You are an Anti-government Gunslinger, also known as a libertarian conservative or Tea Partier. You believe in smaller government, states’ rights, gun rights, and that, as Reagan once said, "The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, ‘I’m from the government and I’m here to help.’"
As promised to a few of the party goers at Christina's Shindig last night - I am posting the recipe for the Homemade Blackberry Pie that I brought as part of the potluck. This is not your standard blackberry Pie recipe. I went in to get started on it only to find out that my roommates had wiped out all of the regular, granulated sugar in my kitchen some time in the past couple of weeks. I was left scambling through the cupboard to figure out how I was going to make this pie with no granulated sugar, since I knew that I didn't have enough brown sugar on hand to do so - and I wasn't pleased with the idea of what sort of flavor change it would cause if I did.
What I DID happen to have on hand (other than the brown sugar that I knew I didn't want to use) was HONEY. Lots and lots and LOTS of Sage Blossom Honey, in fact, which I had originally purchased to brew Mead out of. It had been sitting in the cupboard waiting to be used, and it just screamed at me "Now Is The Time!"
This is what The Pie looked like prior to be Devistated by the partygoers, who decended on it like a veritable plague of locusts, or sharks in a feeding frenzy....
The photo was taken while we were en-route to Christina's, so no one had been given an opportunity to start munching on it yet.
3 lbs (about 5 1/2 cups) fresh Blackberries (while you could probably use frozen, they tend to juice out to quickly as they thaw)
3 1/2 lbs (about 2 3/4 cups) Honey - preferably a mildly flavored single source variatel honey, rather than the generic clover honey that's so readily available, though I'm guessing it would work just as well.
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground clove
1 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
double recipe of your favorite pie crust - or just get a package of pie crust ready made as long as it has 2 crusts available.
Heat blackberries and juice until just warmed through. Add honey and stir thoroughly to mix completely. Add spices, and bring to a boil for 3 to 5 minutes, to thicken a bit and reduce the amount of liquid. (You'll still probably have more Juice than you can shake a stick at, but it's great to drink over ice once it's cooled down and the pie is baking!)
In a 9 inch pie pan, lay out bottom crust, then cover with the blackberries and a small amount of the juice. Latice second crust over the top (or just lay it over, and slit it several times). Take 1/4 cup of the remaining juice and add 1/2 cup extra honey to thin out the honey, then brush the top crust liberally with the honey/juice mixture. Sprinkle brown sugar liberally over the honey moistened top crust -enough that it quits disolving in the moisture.
Bake at 400 degrees in a preheated oven for 35 minutes, or until top crust in golden brown.
Yes folks, it really was That Simple! It's not all that difficult to cook some truly amazing food, with just a bit of creativity, and the will not to tell yourself you "can't" make this or that because you're out of 1 ingredient that can be substituted.
Its difficult on some levels to truly express things concerning Christina's party last night. This is not a Bad thing. I'm simply having a great deal of difficulty finding words that accurately describe just how much I enjoyed having a chance to finally meet & put faces to several of the names I've gotten used to interacting with in the GBC chat on IRC and reading their blogs.
I rode down to Texas with Mike (evylrobot) and his wife, Jenni. And the irony came home to roost concerning just how small this little mudball really is. I had, during the process of finalizing plans to attend this party, exchanged several emails with the couple - during the course of which, I had seen their last name. It was familiar to me from my own childhood and youth, but I didn't think much of it, as coincidences Do sometimes happen in life.
So. The three of us are headed from OKC down I35, stuck in traffic due to one of the construction zones of perpetual roadwork, chitchatting. And then Mike mentions something about his father that gives me cause to go, "wait - you're THAT Mr X's kid???"
After a few more minutes of discussing Mike's parental unit, we (I) came to the realization that I knew him. His father was one of my favorite teachers while growing up. And on more than one occasion I babysat Mike & his younger brother! Mike is all grown up from the last time I saw him, some 20+ years ago. And surprisingly enough, he's no longer the bratty little hellion that I remember from my teens.
The blur of faces and names to put to them is still a bit of a blur in my brain at the moment, as I sit here drinking coffee & sorting through all the various impressions I got during the course of the evening. A few folks stood out more than others - but all in a good way. I can honestly say that everyone who was there from GBC came across face to face exactly as I expected them to from seeing them in chat. And that was a rather pleasant surprise, to say the least!
The food was abundant and fantastic. And for those who were so fond of the Blackberry Pie (which disapeared as quickly as Bridget's Disappearing Appetizer which DanielS and his rather stunningly pretty wife brought) I will be posting the incredibly simple recipe in a seperate post within the next couple of days.
Christina - kuduos on a fantastic party, and a great time! You are, without a doubt, an incredible woman, and one hell of a hostess!
You'd be surprised at how rapidly life can become pleasant again, and you can start finding enjoyment in living again, once you cut dead weight people out of your life. I've been doing so since the end of April/ beginning of May, and regardless of what minor irritations happen to crop up, they aren't affecting me the way they were a few months ago.
Minor irritants have become, once again, just that... MINOR. I'm finding that I look forward to getting up in the morning again, which hasn't been the case for a few years now. I'm not waking up depressed, I'm not wanting to pull the covers over my head and hide from life, I'm not isolating myself from the better portions of humanity and hoping that it will all just go away any more.
I think I'm really liking getting ME back. The old me. The me I used to know when I looked in the mirror. And she IS back - not completely yet, but she's rushing up with a vengence, and is leaving no room for the bleh that has been going on for far too long.
For the past several weeks - perhaps even the past few months - I've been doing a bit of examination as to what it is that I actually need in a relationship. Considering my past lack of success in that area, I've come to the conclusion that either (a) what I'm looking for doesn't actually exist or (b) my expectations are set way to high to ever be achieved. Granted, I haven't (yet) completely given up hope that I'm proven wrong on both those counts - but the more years go by, the less that hope is willing to remain in place.
Anyone who happens to feel that this little list of expectations and needs isn't reasonable is welcome to call 1-800-Fuck-You, and leave a complaint with their customer service department. If you get a recording there, why not try 1-900-Eat-Shit. Either way, that's about what your less than favorable opinion means to me these days.
I Don't need Pity, I Don't need Sympathy, and I Don't need "fixing."
I need to be accepted for who I am - not in some idealized version of me that someone thinks they can turn me into. Don't get involved with me thinking that you're going to somehow miraculously Change me. This is who I am, like it or get the fuck outta my life - cause I'm sure as shit not gonna be changing to suit anyone other than ME. Don't like my weight? Go talk to some brain dead bulimic bimbo. Don't like my attitude? Go hunt up a doormat. Don't like my honesty? Then go lie to yourself in a mirror, cause I'm not gonna pussyfoot around things to satisfy someone else's ego.
I expect Respect. It's not given, it's earned. You'll earn it, just like I will. And I have no use for those who expect to be given ass kissing in place of real respect, or who demand respect without having done anything to earn it. Until it's been earned - common courtesy will suffice - in both directions.
I expect Consistency. I expect not to be intentionally placed in Lose/Lose situations. And if you're consistently a jackass, that doesn't mean that I'll put up with it - it just means that I'll kick you out of my universe that much more rapidly.
I expect Loyalty. I'm the most loyal friend you'll ever find - or the most implacable enemy if my loyalty is misused. Cheating is never acceptable, nor is it ever justifiable. Betraying my friendship will earn you a quick trip to the list of those whom I either refuse to acknowledge as living, or a return of the knife in the back, whichever I happen to find more convenient and more satisfying at the time.
I expect Integrity. Say what you mean, mean what you say, and for fuck sake, back up your words with deeds. If you say you're going to do something, then I expect you to by gods do that something, not blow it off. If you're going to make a promise - then keep it. Accept the fact that if you do Not keep your word, I will quit trusting you - and once I quit trusting you, it's all over but the shootin. I'm not unreasonable, nor am I an absolutist - if there are Legitimate reasons why you can't do what you've said you'll do, then I'm willing to cut some slack. Unless it becomes a pattern that you say one thing, do another, make excuses that are "reasonable" excuses, and expect me to continually buy into it.
I expect Honesty. Don't bother to lie to me, because I WILL find out the truth - and when I do, I'll make certain that you're miserable for a while. Trust demands honesty. If I can't trust you - I have no use for you. I'm not talking about the whole cliched "Honey does this make me look fat" kind of honesty where you figure you're gonna get slapped regardless of how diplomatically you happen to answer. I don't mean keeping a surprise a surprise. I mean don't tell me you're going to be working when the truth is you're going to be at the bar looking for a quick, easy pick up.
It's not a long list. It's not a difficult list. It's certain not an unreasonable or unattainable list. And eventually, I will manage to meet at least one person on this farking planet who can live up to that list.
54, divorced, 2 children who don't live with me, medically retired due to Lupus and Fibromyalgia, a full time job attempting to maintain a domestic partner, my fading sanity, 2 cats, and a mutt. Can we say Chaos?