Home Economics-an oldie but goodie

I took many random classes as a college undergraduate. My classes ranged from Alfred Hitchcock to a gods and goddesses course. Were these classes practical? No. Were they interesting? You bet! But as my years outside of the college classroom increase, I have come to realize that I may have made a mistake.

I went to Albright College. Their motto is something like "a different way of thinking." Well, they succeeded at that. The array of miscellaneous classes I took provided me with an arsenal of different thoughts. As a result, I tend to be halfway decent at random trivia games.

What class did I need? Home Economics. I see no reason why colleges don't offer home economics as an elective. I had home economics in middle school. We sewed a few things by hand and made a couple of meals. If the ability to sew on a button, repair a small hole or tear and keep from starving isn't invaluable, I don't know what is.

No matter what path you take in life, a solid home economics course could do nothing but help. You wouldn't even have to call it home economics. You could call it basic life skills. The final exam could be seeing if you can fix an entire Thanksgiving meal by yourself. Again, it's practical.

I don't proclaim to be a cook. I can, however, keep from starving. I can sew on a button or fix a small hole on an article of clothing. Now, as I was looking through the supermarket circular I was honest with myself. I have no idea how to fix a whole chicken or turkey. I know how it's done in theory, but a theory is far from a fact and nothing more than a strong maybe.

I can admit, he's a better cook.

My husband has been cooking up a storm lately, and dinner has been awesome. He comes at dinner with a whole entire plan. His preparation routine is vicious. He makes brews it over in his mind, makes phone calls...it's intense! Me? I think about dinner, let it go, search the 'net for ideas, and call my grandma. What's the difference between his tactics and mine? He has one meal in mind and follows through. Me on the other hand, I pick a meat, pick what I like from the advice, and hope it works out for the best.

This past week, I made a breaded chicken breast. Ingredients: cheese, garlic powder, bread crumbs I made from leftover buttery biscuits, and a bunch of other seasonings. It turned out pretty good. My husband made steak(w/ onions and peppers of course) w/ roux, broccoli and rice. I'd never even heard of roux before, but I won't ever forget it now!

So, why do I think my husband is a better cook? Well, because he's more methodical with his cooking. I'm more helter skelter. Yumminess tends to occur at any rate, so hey.

Chicken cooking in the oven

Finished chicken dinner

Steak in the making

Finished Steak dinner

If I were a T.V. wife

I like shows that are centered around families-not to be confused with family shows. So I was watching reruns of one of my favorite shows-That 70's show. As I watched Kitty try to solve everyones' problems with food,I came to a realization: Hey, I tend to do that. I started wondering if I were like any other T.V. wife. Have you ever done that? I don't think I am fully like one particular wife, but I do think that I have a characteristic or two from a few different ones.

Here are the ones I came up with for me and why:

Kitty (That 70's show) - for how she deals with food (not her alcoholism)

Roseanne (Roseanne) - for her constant sarcasm & willingness to do whatever she needs to do for her family...& and maybe even for her odd relationship with her mother (lol)

Carrie Heffernan (The King of Queens) - for her overall awesomeness and her stick-to-itiveness when overcoming any obstacles she and her husband face

That's just my opinion. My husband may have a different one, but I'll have to ask him.The longer I'm married, maybe the list will change. We'll see.

Sporting my new last name

I became legitimate a couple weeks ago when I got my new social security card.(They have dates on them now. Did you know?)

I took my husband's last name. It was a big decision. Taking my husband's name wasn't the big decision. I knew I was going to do that. I didn't know what to do with my last name.

When I was in college (round 1), I took several gender/ feminist courses. At one point I even thought about making that a focal point of my studies. However, I was honest with myself. I was a little too wishy-washy. While I loved the idea of women's empowerment and all that comes with it, I was secretly coveting a traditional happily-ever-after.

All of the feminist theories I'd studied came flooding back at the exact moment the woman on the opposite side of my desk asked if I wanted to keep my last name and make it my middle name. At the time, my last name was my mother's maiden name. Keeping it would maintain the matriarchal thread. Sounds awesome, right? On the other hand, getting rid of my middle name would mean shedding a name that my mother actually chose for me. If you look at it like that, your last name is pretty much thrown upon you. So, is it really all that important?

I decided to keep my middle name and shed the last name that I'd sported for over a quarter of my life. What was the deciding factor? I love my middle name. That's pretty much it.Isn't the right to choose a pivotal component of women's rights? I chose.

How do I feel? I wasn't sure how I was going to feel at first. I feel like a new person. I feel like I can reinvent myself since I have a new name. It's exciting. All at once I feel independent and brand new while closer to my husband.

Crock pot success and a gravy miracle

Once again, I decided to break out the trusty crock pot. Seriously, how many mishaps can you possibly have with one appliance? And with the toaster oven out of the way, I was sure to get it going without a hitch this time.

I didn't make chicken this time. I made a roast. I've seen my mom make roast beef hundreds of times. I figured it couldn't be that hard. She seasoned it, tossed in onions and peppers, and let it do it's thing. That's just my style! The roast turned went over without a hitch. But, of course you know there was a slight issue. I only had one jar of gravy.

What on earth do you do with an entire roast,a tiny jar of gravy, and your spouse coming home in 15 minutes? Well, here's what I did: I pouted. After that, I did the thing I know how to do best. I called my mom. She laughed and told me good luck because she only uses gravy from a jar. I obviously phoned the wrong lifeline. I called my grandmother. Of course mom-mom, as I call her, knew how to make gravy. Her explanation of how to make it was so long that by the time she got to the end I was at more of a loss than when I started. My aunt laughing in the background and yelling out "You better dig up another jar!" wasn't exactly helpful either.

With that, I went to old reliable: Google. I knew I had to use the essence from the roast, so I'd dumped that into a pan. That, however, is all I knew. A quick Google search told me the easiest possible way to make gravy:

1. Bring the essence from the meat to a boil.
2. Find a container (like a small Tupperware bowl) with a lid.
3. Put super cold water into the container.
4. Add flour.
5. Shake. Cover. Pray. (Well, the pray part is mine. I always think a dash of prayer is needed when cooking something for the first time, but it's completely optional.)

Keep in mind, I'd never made gravy before, but this seemed doable even for me. What do you think?

Case of the unsexy: Snoring

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I love the show "Reba." I started watching it a few years ago, and I catch it every now and then still. I snore. I've always known that I snore. What I didn't know was the extent of my snoring. Ah, the things you learn when married. My poor, poor husband. I woke up one morning, fresh-faced and chipper. He, unfortunately, looked disheveled and haggard.

It was at that moment that I realized I snore with a sound which I equate to a chainsaw wielding lumberjack being gargled by a grizzly bear. How unsexy is that? I was so distraught that I Googled products to reduce snoring. Of course there were mixed reviews for inexpensive and expensive products alike. So, aside from trying to fall asleep after him, I guess my sexy will be limited to the daytime.

Wife vs. Linen...Let the ironing begin!

I'll cut to the chase. I lose the linen battle. It's not a small loss. It's one of those painful defeats you like to watch between your fingers. Yeah, it's just that bad.

My husband is always on the move, so I try to do little things to help him out like iron his work clothes. If I was any good at ironing, this wouldn't be that big of a deal. I give it a good try, so he never complains. I even looked up how to iron men's dress shirts on e-how. Those guys really do let you know how to do just about anything.

At any rate, I've greatly improved at ironing dress shirts. My most recent foe: linen pants. Yes, they look dashing. But, how do you really iron these? They laugh in the face of steam. Unfortunately, e-how tells me how to iron pants in general (not linen pants). After several website fails, I stumbled upon an AskMen.com post about linen.

So, you're apparently supposed to iron linen when it's damp. There's something my intuition never would have told me. And it should be ironed not once, but twice (once on each side). Yet again, that's just not something I would've known. Let's make a rule that retailers shouldn't be able to sell linen if they're not going to tell you how to care for it. It just may increase linen sales if you're not angrily ironing the linen garment that you purchased. Who would buy lots of linen garments if they're ferociously frustrated by them?

Are there any other linen tips or tricks? Who am I kidding? I'll take any ironing tips.