Joann's Peach Glop Ballet

The chicken soup and peach glop came out pretty good last night. I highly recommend peach glop. It consisted of one big can of peaches (the next size up from the “normal” size) a half cup of brown sugar, 2/3 cup of quick oats, 1/3 cup baking mix, 1 teaspoon cinnamon and half a cup of water. You throw it all in a crock pot stir and cook it on low for about 5 hours. If it’s to liquidey at the end, you just take the lid off and cook it a little longer. It was really easy and pretty good. Next time I’m gonna try a recipe with cherry pie filling and cake mix and see how that turns out.

It’s crafting season and Davey moved a scarf I was knitting and dropped one of my needles behind a shelf. Smooth move. I went to Jo-Ann’s last night (even though that store irratates me) to get some embossing stuff. You can melt your embossed images onto candles. It’s fun. I put a bunch of red stars on a taper and the candle’s a little lumpy now, but it still looks kinda neat.

Roan fell in love with everything in the store. “It’s soooo beautiful.” She also kept talking really loud. I wish I could remember all of the stuff she was saying. The only thing I remember exactly is “Mommy, my skin itches!” Nice. Then I got the weirdo guy at the cash register. He would not stop talking. First about his relatives in the service, one who was shot down in WWII and was put in a concentration camp, but it was liberated a day later, then about how he thought a guy who walked out of the store was stealing something, but his reaction was “oh well.”

Roan is obsessed with ballet now. So much so that we are looking for a class for her. I don’t know how I ended up with such a girlie-girl. I did take a lot of dance classes as a kid and generally liked them. Ballet was the only one I hated. The teacher said when I "plie-ed" it looked like I was sitting on a horse. Since my favorite hobby was (is) riding, I took some pride in that. You would have never caught me dead wearing pink, though. Roan loves pink and princess stuff and Barbies. She puts her Barbie tiara on and runs around calling herself “princess Roanie.” She was stoked the other night when I called her “ballerina Roanie.” She also really wants ballet shoes.