Mother’s March

Mother’s March means the chief cook and bottle washer (aka meeeee) is trying to get rid of leftovers or whatever. I got that term from My Dear Uncle Harry who did a lot of the cooking for his family. (He is alive and kicking but not doing the cooking any more.)

I worked on Mother’s March tonight. I concocted a pasta/veggie/sausage dish that incorporated the remains of a bag of mixed frozen veggies that the GG bought on one of his northern boondoggles. I do not buy veggies in that form factor although I do occasionally buy frozen peas and lima beans, etc.

To be fair, I also used up some fancy blueberry bratwurst that *I* had purchased at Sparrow last June. It was really good but not the right size to put into a bun (waaaaay too long). I wish I could get to freezer zero before turkey day but I will definitely not.

The pic is one of Bill’s Birch Point Beach Bank Benches. Except this one is on the North Country Trail near Tahquamenon Falls. A hiker who encountered this bench a couple months ago posted to the facebook group that they thought someone was burning wood from it (the remains of a campfire was nearby). The GG saw the pic and replied with something like, “Naw, it’s rotted wood and I’ll fix it.” And so he did that this weekend.

We are into snow around here now and so I didn’t really want to ask how his drive back to The Planet was. It turns out that it was intermittently AWFUL. From the Big Mac bridge to Gaylord yesterday it was White Knuckle. Today was better except when it wasn’t. Intermittent snow and sleet and whatever. Himself got home safely this afternoon 🧡🧡🧡

One Response to “Mother’s March”

  1. Margaret Says:

    Pasta is so versatile in what you can add to it. Snow, ugh. White knuckle for those who are used to snow must be particularly horrible.