Happy Thanksgiving, and never mind the burnt potatoes

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!  As I write this, Boy C is in his crib letting me know he is not ready for bed yet and Girl C is beside me having herself a lovely tea party in the tub.

We spent our holiday with some in-town friends who can't go out of town due to medical reasons, so we had them over for a noon(ish) meal.  We had your standard fare - turkey, stuffing, corn, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, and sweet potatoes.  But the mashed potatoes almost were not.  Had Papa B not been paying attention, I would have burned the kitchen down in spectacular fashion.

Let's rewind to yesterday and get this story started:

Papa B took Girl C to go see Frozen.  She was SO excited, and she'd been talking about it for days.  I know, because I heard about it every five minutes.  They head to the theater and Boy C goes down for his nap leaving me about 1.5 glorious hours to clean and prep for Thanksgiving.  It was truly a thing of beauty, this time to myself.  On my list of things to do was wash, peel and cut potatoes.  Easy.  Mission accomplished.  I put them all in the pressure cooker and put the lid on and put it in the fridge for tomorrow.  Tomorrow comes, and I take the pot out (which has the lid on the pressure cooker) to come to room temperature before I cook it.  Now, if you've never used a pressure cooker, or even cooked potatoes ever, you may not yet have recognized my error.  If you have, I'm sure you know where this is headed.  I put them on the stove, fire up the burner and wait.  WITHOUT WATER IN THE POT.  Papa B sniffs the air and asks if something is burning.  I nonchalantly tell him it's probably something on the burner.  He says, uh, no, there's smoke coming from the pressure cooker and did you even put water in here?

Shit, I didn't.

So, thanks to Papa B's presence and quick thinking, I not only didn't burn the kitchen down, but we were able to rescue the potatoes and serve them!

I'm really not this funny in real life.

Or, Blog - the Resurrection.

On Facebook I always have people telling me how funny I am.  But I really don't think I'm that funny.  I mean, I can capture humor in 140 characters or less, but I really don't think I'm that profound.  I guess I'm as profound as the next girl on the internet (and there's a LOT of girls on the internet, doing, uh, un-profound things...).  I hear all the time, "You should start a blog!"  And my little inner voice laughs a little because I do have a blog.  I just lack the dedication and time to write.  And when I post these profound things on Facebook, I don't see how I can develop them into a meaningful, insightful, and profoundly funny blog post.  And therefore, you get my musings about whatever has struck me at the time.  By the time I think about what I would say in such a post, life has happened as it is wont to do, and my idea has gone out of my head, replaced by someone's need to find her Blankie, or a cat horking up a stick of butter onto the living room carpet, or a baby needing to be fed or changed.

So, I have decided to resurrect the blog and try to make a dent in my little corner of the interwebs.  Hopefully, I'll be dedicated and will amuse you all with the current goings-on at Beer Run farm (and there's lots!!)

Happy Internetting, y'all!