This blog is all about honesty, y'all and I have to be honest- I'm on my way to becoming Martha Stewart! Without all the legal infractions, of course.
It may be a teeny bit of a stretch to claim to be achieving the domestic godessness of Marty (that's what I call her- we're BFFs) because I still don't know how to zest a lemon or fold a fitted sheet properly.
But this weekend? I roasted a chicken in the crockpot and then used the bones to make HOMEMADE CHICKEN STOCK. After that, since the crockpot and I were getting to be so buddy-buddy and sharing all our deepest secrets with one another, I used my crockpot again to make HOMEMADE APPLESAUCE. And it was DELISH!
But then J. said "Depart foul spirit of Martha Stewart, in the name of Jay-eee-zuhs!" and I was exorcised right then and there. Because after the chicken stock and the applesuce experiment, I caught up on DVR'ed shows and then went to bed, leaving the kitchen in shambles, 5 or 6 (maybe more!) loads of clean laundry unfolded and innumerable other chores unaccomplished.
Domesticity is exhausting.