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Thursday, August 8, 2013

 What would you do with a beautiful pot of Basil like this one?   Make Pesto, of course!  
(Warning to people like Mr. RWP......recipe to follow.......)
 The first time I tasted Pesto, I thought it revolting.  Perhaps it is an acquired taste.  If so, I have acquired it!  
 I'm working at the Fairgrounds in preparation for next week's Fair, but while I'm 'resting', I thought I'd just mention a few things we've been up to BESIDES working at the fairgrounds....
Like harvesting our onions and garlic.  Food without onions & garlic is bland and boring.   Unless it's chocolate.   Or coffee.
 So, I picked the basic leaves, rinsed & spun them dry in my newly-acquired-for-$2.50 at a thrift store salad spinner.  I added all these ingredients, whizzed it all up in the Cuisinart and PRESTO!......PESTO!!!!!

(Mr. RWP, at least it was a QUICK recipe, yes??)
 No, I didn't grow the walnuts and I didn't make the parmesan cheese. 

 I did quadruple the recipe to use up all the lovely, lovely basil leaves and then stuffed it all into the freezer for another day when I shall make Italian Herbs Sourdough Bread to SHMEAR it upon.

 I spent a couple days making primitives while I wasn't outside (and wasn't doing housework....)

I made tags, printed out graphics, gathered up Fair entries, made three pizzas, two batches of salisbury steaks, 24 hamburger patties and three loaves of pumpkin bread for the freezer for the days I'm off to the fairgrounds.  

I should have cleaned rabbit pans and watered the raspberries & strawberries, but I got tired.   When I get too tired, I get silly.  I remembered one of my favorite parts of the book The Blue Castle by Lucy Maude Montgomery....

Aunt Alberta, to save her dinner, plunged into an account of how a
dog had bitten her recently.  Uncle James, to back her up, asked
where the dog had bitten her.

"Just a little below the Catholic church," said Aunt Alberta.

At that point Valancy laughed.  Nobody else laughed.  What was
there to laugh at?

"Is that a vital part?" asked Valancy.

"What do you mean?" said bewildered Aunt Alberta, and Mrs.
Frederick was almost driven to believe that she had served God all
her years for naught.
Did I mention I was tired? 
We've spent two days at the Fair now - Check In Day, Judgement Day are over.
Tomorrow we get chores done, load the truck and head back again to Decorate.  That
actually means artfully arranging all the entries so that when the fairgoers come 
next week, they will be able to see & enjoy all the wonderful entries - Quilts,
table runners, afghans, tablecloths, knitted sweaters, embroidered pillows,
canned beef, chocolate chip cookies.....well, you know.
Off I go, tomorrow is a long long day.  Be sure to come see the Living Arts building
August 13-19th at the Southwest Washington Fair!!! 


  1. Mmm, Pesto! It really IS an acquired taste that I finally GOT. My basil leaves are only a 1/2" long. Thanks for the reminder to use the salad spinner...duh!
    I look forward to the Sourdough recipe!
    It was a long day at the Fair but "it was good".
    ;-) .....and always good to see you!
    I look forward to seeing the items displayed!

  2. oh I miss that fair. We have a tiny, tiny,tiny fair here but it still is fun. My children are all riding in the youth rodeo for the second year. Hopeing to enter items in living arts. I loved entering and going to the SWW Fair. In North Dakota the turtle races are the main event...we are looking for turtles!!!!!

  3. Well, that was a great line Aunt Alberta tossed off, and she didn't even seem to be aware of it. Isn't that the way it always is?

    I knew an old woman several years back named Lucy Maude who was in her eighties, but her last name wasn't Montgomery, it was Bryson. She lived in Roswell, Georgia, and never went anywhere except one time with her husband, Clyde, to Rochester, New York. So you can imagine my surprise and delight while spending a night in Vicksburg, Mississippi, on a trip to Texas that I saw, close to the Mississippi River, a green and white road sign that said "Lucy Bryson Street." I took a photograph of it to prove it was there and showed it to Lucy Maude the next time I saw her at church. She was shocked to see it, and even more so when I said, "My Daddy grew up in Iowa not far from the Mississippi and he warned me about girls in the river towns." I laughed and laughed, but Lucy didn't.

    I know this isn't related to your post except in the most tangential way, but I felt I had to tell it anyway.