How could there be more...

Between posting and actually carrying the bags out of the car, I added in a set of dishrags, a set of dish towels, and a tablecloth that were in a box in the basement.  The rags and towels were a back-up set to the camping set I already donated.  I have four perfectly usable dish towels that I bought when I moved into my first home 13 years ago—mustard gold to match my dishes.  I also have repurposed my favorite set of napkins, a madras plaid from my childhood, as cooking towels, to save on paper towel use.  And I have this really funky colored waffle weave dish towel that is so wild and wonderful whenever I sneak it into the kitchen I get a bit of a pick-me-up.  So my kitchen linen needs are fully met.  Those in the basement were languishing, in need of a home where they would be put to good use.

I also added the cups and plates I had held onto for picnics, seeing as I have had no picnics since moving here.  And then I went searching through my kitchen drawers and cabinets to see if there were utensils and things that I had not used since I started.  I culled some more things, including stainless serving utensils that are really, really nice, but I still never used them.  Because I never cook for groups.  And, if I did somehow magically become social and start cooking for groups, I could pull out the silver serving utensils I have.

Finally, I let go of my two sets of holiday mugs.  They were not coffee mugs, mind you, but hot chocolate ones.  However, I've only used them a few times since, again, visitors sitting around drinking hot chocolate/tea/coffee are simply not really an activity that occurs in my home.  Perhaps some family will sit around drinking hot chocolate together.

I also found a cache of audio books to donate.  Truly, I am not sure how these could have been missed.  I did keep two—one for each hand, since these are treats to me:  First Contact, read by Gates McFadden, and Pride and Prejudice.  The rest I put into two bags for Goodwill.

Somehow, the whole back end of the Highlander is filled up again.  How could there be more to donate??

Something I have wondered about:  Do I keep travel coffee mugs for visitors?  I, of course, do not drink the wretched stuff.  But I have four rather nice double-walled aluminum travel mugs.  I have held onto them thinking that visitors might want to sip coffee on the way out some place.  But this has never happened.  And I cannot drink things in metal containers, just as I cannot use metal utensils.  Ought not the travel mugs be added to the household goods bags??  I do so enjoy being a good host, having things of need on hand.  Yet, to date, they have never been of need.  Maybe just keep one???

I stood in the servant's closet for a long while, staring at my work wardrobe.  I would like to say that my obstacle for donating them is that Dress for Success requires things to be on hangers and I am just not willing to donate my very, very nice hangers.  In fact, were the work clothing gone, I would hang some items that are piled on wire mesh shelves just now.  However, I could just donate the clothing to the Salvation Army or Goodwill.  In doing so, I could finally close the door on that part of my life.  But, you know, that utter dearth of hoards of visitors means that it really doesn't matter if I have a full closet in one of the three extra bedrooms.

I think I would need some sort of support to actually go through with that.
Or copious amounts of haranguing about the matter.
Maybe stories of naked women on the streets or something.

After hauling everything to the car, I made dinner.  Somehow, I have actually not yet made a chicken enchilada in my new oven.  How in the world that possibly be is beyond my ability to fathom.  Yet, somehow, it has come to pass that I have not put chicken enchilada into my belly since the end of May, when the old stove was removed from the kitchen.

First, I shredded the final piece of grilled chicken.  Being a rather large piece, I split it in half.  This, here, is what it looks like (the half I put in a container for the morrow):

This is what it looks like after I mix together evaporated milk (5 oz.) and enchilada sauce (10 oz.), pile the chicken on a flour tortilla, sprinkle roasted cumin, salt, and pepper over the meat, drench it with the sauce, toss on a dollop of sour cream, top it with cheddar cheese, fold it up, put it in a French oval, top it with more sauce and more cheddar cheese, and then bake it for 30 minutes or so at 350 degrees:

Much tastiness if you ask me.  [The rest of the world, I am sure, would add some onions and green chillies before folding it up.]  Amos nearly incapacitated himself with anticipation at getting to pre-clean an enchilada dish once more.  He has clearly missed my eating chicken enchiladas.

[Note:  I store my leftover enchilada sauce mixture in a Snapple bottle.  Doing so makes it very easy to pour it over future enchiladas]

Then, I made this:

The last one from my first rank of wood for the winter.  That bed of coals is radiating rather intense heat.  Taking the photo, my phone shut down!  So, both Amos and I are rather toasty at the moment, resting in the GREEN chair beneath the quilt and savoring the warmth, the crackling and popping, and the roaring of the fire.

Yesterday, I had very low-ball offer on the guitar.  After much agonizing, I decided to accept it.  Then, the guy decided he wanted me to deliver it.  A two-hour drive each way!  I declined.  However, I would note that had I sold it I could have ordered my new glasses tomorrow.

This is important, you see, because Baby Bunny is back!!  He is, honestly.  I had been rather worried about him, having not seen him all summer.  But he is back in the yard.  Amos has not been all that welcoming, so several times I have had to console a frightened Baby Bunny huffing and puffing on the other side of the fence, having just narrowly avoided the wrath of my fluff-ball-puppy.

Well, last night, Amos raced down the steps and when charging over to the side fence.  I chased him away and saw a quivering face just on the other side of the gate.  Whilst Amos tended to his business, I consoled Baby Bunny by whispering sweet nothings to him and telling him all sorts of stories about how loved he has been, from the time I first spotted him three Springs ago as a tiny bit of brown fur in the grass.  I told him how proud I was that he had grown big and strong.  And I apologized for Amos' uncharitable behavior.  Amos came over to let me know he had finished and to growl a bit at Baby Bunny once more.  I picked Amos up and carried him back inside, scolding him about the need to show mercy.

Once inside, I saw the side door motion sensor light switch on and looked out the window.  Much to my dismay, I discovered that I had been consoling that horrid possum!  The possum Amos peed on.  The possum who is much, much larger now than when Amos first encountered him in the summer.

I really do need new glasses.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!