Oh, I love cannolis. I went to the William Sonoma store to look at the "Cannoli Kit" to see if I really thought $48.00 was a good price to pay for 6 cannoli (steel) forms, a pastry cutter, a little recipe book and I think they threw in a coupon for a $1.00 off a name brand of Ricotta cheese. I decided against the kit. Home Depot, however, has stainless steel rods and I can have 12 cut into 6" pieces for about $10.00 (more cannolis for me!)
As spring actually breaks dawn tomorrow morning there is sure to be a few ethnic festivals in our fair city! The two I go to every year are the Orthodox Greeks and the Czechs (Although the Czechs have their festival in October). I love the food, I love the food, I love the food! So close to the time I think I should go on a diet - so it looks like I'll have to behave myself and only dibble where I would rather dive into the cuisine. Dibble. Damn word. Oh, but still - cannolis!
Today's shopping spree was all about the food supply in my house. I have two hungry girls out of school for Spring Break and for some reason they want to eat everything. Shopping was not an option, it was a mission. Because I have girls and because its Spring Break the girls are having parties, gatherings, meetings, fights, walks, and then yesterday the two of them - found a real dead daddy beaver in the pond just about a 1/2 mile from the house. JOY! They turned him over, they poked on him with sticks because that’s what you do with dead beavers that you find laying around the neighborhood, you poke them with sticks. They discovered that his demise was not natural - he had been shot. The girls ran home (this is hilarious) they put on their CSI-Miami and CSI-NY t-shirts, hats, and took a box of rubber gloves (Yes, we have them) and they took little plastic bags with them so they could - - - wait for it - - - collect the evidence!
Here I am, minding my own business, making cannolis! Just trying to let the girls know how much I love them - and Caity wants to dissect a dead beaver over by the pond. No, I didn't let her run to the park with kitchen shears or the butcher knife. I made her walk slowly with her tools of the trade in her cute little doggy backpack, of course; and I made her take plenty of alcohol, old rags, plastic bags, and a pen & paper set. Both girls decided to go, Laura went to make sure Caity didn’t cut herself; always the big sister. They took their digital cameras and they set off for the pond. Why couldn't I have had all boys? Sometimes I wonder - but then again, God made little girls for a reason. (Probably not this reason, but a reason, nevertheless). Boys would have probably poked the damn thing and been done with it, but my girls were all about the guts and glory, at least Caity was. I think she could be a surgeon but they’d expect her to show up on time and that may or may not actually happen.
After arriving at the pond Caity, because she’s a girl of faith, took Laura by the hand and said a wee prayer over the dead daddy beaver, who at that very moment with bowed head, decided to name him Oscar. Oscar was no doubt loved, he was cared for, and until he was shot dead recently by someone who had no sense at all (her words to God) Oscar was simply living his life as the best beaver to ever walk the paths in Edmond, Oklahoma. He will be sorely missed, and with that, she sterilized her tools with alcohol before making her first incision.
Why in the world she and Laura felt it was necessary or needed to tell me every detail of the autopsy, I don’t know, they took enough photos, you’d think they could just flip through them and give me the highlights. I didn’t even want to stuff the cannolis now. I just wanted to sneak off and take a hot bath with Dr. Teal’s Lavender Epsom salts and forget the entire thing! Take me away – wait, that’s not Dr. Teal’s, that’s some other brand, anyway, just don’t tell me that the beaver’s liver was discolored. Who knows what color a beaver’s liver is supposed to be anyway? Tell me that Oscar was a great beaver, that he played in the pond, that he loved to catch fish, climb trees, cut down smaller trees, build little dams for his family, but no, no, I don’t want to know that his intestines were filled at the time of his death or that his tongue was thinner than you would have imagined a beaver’s tongue to be. STOP BEING WEIRD and I don’t know, play with Barbies....or do your homework! Why God? Why?
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