On the Road Again...

Hi, friends.

After another completely wonderful weekend away with one of my very favorite friends and the kind of baby who makes you want to have lots of babies, I came home to a clean house, my two sweet babes, and the world's best husband. Hugh and I both took an impromptu afternoon off yesterday and celebrated the fact that it's been one year since we uprooted our life in Savannah to start this med school journey. There was shopping, a leisurely lunch, a long walk with the pup, and lots of chatting. Seriously, that guy of mine just makes me feel like my heart will burst with happiness.

And with that, I'm back on the road for work.

Won't you bear with me until I can get my act together and catch up on blogging this weekend?

I promise travel recaps, a garden update, holiday weekend plans, a few tasty recipes, and general ramblings longer than six sentences.

Weekly Menu

I love taking trips on the weekend. I hate coming home Sunday night and racing to get ready for the week ahead. It makes for boring meal plans.

And with that great buildup, here's what's on the menu at the White Hot household this week:

Sunday: Carbonara - We had this on Sunday night after driving for eight hours. I figured our weekend was already a bust nutritionally (albeit a delicious one), so why not go out with a bang? Plus, this is one of Hugh's specialties which meant I didn't have to cook. Plus it's freaking delicious.

Monday: Southwestern Chicken Salad - Decided to start things off right on Monday with a veggie loaded salad.

Tuesday: I will be dining at Casa de M Cubed and Hugh will be having leftovers. That's the price you pay for getting to pursue your life's dreams.

Wednesday: Crockpot BBQ Pork Tenderloin, Vinegary Coleslaw, Sweet Potato Oven Fries

Thursday: Chicken Sausage on Whole Wheat Buns, Green Beans

And, with that, we're back on the healthy-eating horse.

What are you eating for dinner this week?

Is it Friday Yet?

No posting this week, mainly because there seems to be a dearth of postable activity going on at the White Hot household. Unless you want to hear about how I made Blackberry Peach Cobbler on Sunday, and Hugh and I ate it all for dinner that night, and I haven't used my kitchen for anything except making coffee since. What can I say? The inspiration ebbs and flows around this place.

However, the weekend is almost upon us. And it promises to be a fun one. I will wait until Monday to fill you in, lest the some creepy internet stalkers are reading (see, Mom? I'm totally conscientious of safety!).

I will tell you that many of my very favorite people will be included.

Like these sweet and funny friends:

Newlyweds!

And their beautiful boy:

Couldn't you just eat him right up?

And my favorite fam:

The parents, all snazzed up.

I'm sorry, but aren't you still like seven?

And these lovely, long-time, been-there-for-it-all girls:

Is it scary that this was three and a half years ago?!

Hope your weekend is full of many reasons to celebrate. See you on Monday!

Oh, Monday...

I work from home most Mondays. You would think that this would all but eliminate the unpleasantness typically associated with the end of the weekend. Not today.

Up bright and early this morning, I headed out to do some gardening before I started working. I usually love this part of my day.

I had Fletcher out in the yard with me because he also loves this part of the day. We hadn't been outside for three minutes when I saw him sneaking around the side of the house looking suspicious - a clear indicator that he is about to eat something he shouldn't. If there is any type of plant that could possibly be dangerous to a dog you can bet that a) Fletcher is going to find and eat it, and b) it is going to make him very sick.

Thus I head over to the side yard to see what he's doing. And he immediately starts sprinting away from me. I should note, our backyard is very large and Fletcher is a crazy-fast runner so I know better than to chase him. Instead, I pick up a leaf and start walking toward him very slowly pretending like it's a treat and coaxing him to drop whatever is in his mouth. This strategy is about fifty percent effective about fifty percent of the time. Probably because my dog is not an idiot. So of course he tears away from me and does two laps around the yard like a Derby horse, all the while, the foreign object of doom is still in his mouth.

Long story short, after trying the treat-that-is-actually-a-leaf-trick three more times, it finally works. Probably because he's just so tired at this point. I grab his mouth and reach in to remove the poisonous plant. Except, it's a dead bird. In my bare hand. And I can't put it down because that will start this whole process over again. So I have to carry a DEAD BIRD back up to the house IN MY BARE HAND and put it in a plastic bag.

Now, I still had to water the plants. While Fletcher was following me around trying to lick me with his dead bird tongue. Also, it was already eighty-nine degrees at this point.

Near the end of my watering (while I was stomping around in a huff), I managed to knock one of my marigold pots over, spilling dirt and plants on the patio. I threw the hose down and picked up the plant and swept the dirt back in pot. As I was rearranging the plants in the pot, I noticed that there was a large clot of potting soil, so I reached down to break it up. As soon as I got my fingers around it, my brain registered that it was not, in fact, a clot of dirt.

It was a toad the size of my fist.

I have never dropped anything so quickly. Somehow, Hugh did not understand how this incident justified the very loud scream that brought him and Fletcher running to my aid. I'm sorry, but what is the confusion?

And then I went inside. And it was only 9:00am. Happy Monday.

The Pimm's Cup

So, here's the thing: we at the White Hot household are all about some cocktails. But we're picky. No overly sweet. Or fruity. Or poorly executed. We love a good margarita and a well-done mojito, but finding those anywhere but your own kitchen is next to impossible. And we have about exhausted our want for these two drinks after just a few weeks of warm weather cocktail hour on the porch. So, mainly I drink wine. And Hugh drinks beer. Or bourbon. Until now. Now, we drink this:

Oh goodness gracious, you glass of delicious perfection.

The Pimm's Cup is the perfect combination of boozy and spicy and refreshing and sweet.

I should mention, my darling husband started his working life as a bartender (one of the many, many reasons I married him). So he makes the cocktails around this place. Just call me spoiled.

He is using this recipe from Bon Appetit. But without all of those over-the-top garnishes. We go for two sprigs of mint and a slice of cucumber. Just call us minimalists.

Ingredients

• 1 3-inch piece English cucumber, cut into 1/2-inch slices, plus 2 spears (for garnish)
• 3/4 cup Pimm's No. 1*
• 3 tablespoons fresh Meyer lemon juice or regular lemon juice
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar
• Ice cubes
• 2 sprigs each fresh rosemary, thyme, and mint
• 2 lemon slices
• 2 fresh strawberries, halved
• Ginger beer, chilled
• 2 rhubarb stalks (for garnish)

• *A blend of gin, liqueurs, and fruit extracts; available at some specialty foods stores and liquor stores.

Preparation

• Place 1/2-inch-thick cucumber slices in cocktail shaker. Using muddler or handle of wooden spoon, mash well. Add Pimm's, lemon juice, and sugar. Fill 2 pilsner glasses with ice; set aside. Add ice to Pimm's mixture, cover, and shake vigorously 20 times. Strain into glasses. Push 1 rosemary sprig, 1 thyme sprig, 1 mint sprig, 1 lemon slice, and 2 strawberry halves down into each glass. Fill glasses with ginger beer. Garnish with cucumber spears and rhubarb stalks.

Ingredient note: We're partial to the spicy version (pink-capped) of Blenheim's Ginger Beer, available at your local Fresh Market. Yum.

Side note: When we decided to make this, we went to the package store we always frequent. The owner told us they were out of Pimm's, as was everyone in the state due to a dearth from the distributor. So we came home and I pouted and we wondered what to do. And then Hugh decided to pop into the store down the street. And they had three bottles. We bought them all. Moral: don't be defeated in the face of cocktail hardship. Persevere.

T.G.I.F.

Seriously.

Plans for the weekend:

• Take Fletcher to the vet this afternoon for follow-up bloodwork to make sure he is really as well as he's acting.
• Lots of grilling. We're making these tonight: Muffuletta Hot Dogs because, let's be honest: hot dogs are delicious, and if you don't think so, well, you're just lying to yourself.
  

Photo courtesy of The Bitten Word

• Visit the Farmer's Market tomorrow morning, with the crazy pup in tow.
• Make Sunday brunch and homemade pasta (this is an example of lofty Friday morning goals).
  
• That's about all we have planned. And it makes me happy.

Enjoy your weekend my lovely friends. And check back tomorrow for the best new (to us) drink recipe that is surely missing from your life. Perfect for a summer afternoon on the porch.

Happy Thursday!

Sitting on the couch with Fletcher dreaming away on one side of me (don't you love their dog dreams, running and growling and kicking away in their sleep?) and Hugh sleeping (and probably dreaming but not kicking or growling) on the other, the mood around this house is very happy (not just because it's quiet, but that may be like fifty percent of the reason). When I got back into town last night, sweet Fletcher was bouncing around like his normal crazy dog self. What a relief.

Today we spent the day playing in the yard and in the garden. Once Hugh got home from school we went on a family walk. There is nothing like a scare to make you appreciate your uneventful, everyday life.

In the interest of keeping in real, a meal planning update: we had spicy tuna pasta last night because the salmon was still frozen. And then tonight we had veggie tacos because the salmon was a disaster. Wtf, Salmon? This is why I don't like you that much. However, in the face of these setbacks, we did not go out to eat, which is a huge step for the White Hot household.

Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday. This little family is ready for a relaxing weekend.

Gratuitous cuteness (and wonderful peace and quiet) from this afternoon:

Eleven months later, I think this is as close as they'll ever get to being best friends.

Meal Time

After way too much dining out last week, I am back in the meal planning saddle.

Image courtesy of Martha Stewart

Here it is:

Grilled Chicken, Potatoes, and Asparagus with Garlic Vinaigrette (via Mandy via Martha, slightly modified)

Penne with Pink Sauce, Roasted Baby Carrots (from the garden!), and Bibb Lettuce Salad with Herb Vinaigrette

Spicy Salmon Tacos with Guacamole and Pico de Gallo, Spicy Citrus Black Beans

Thai Noodle Salad with Pork, Sugar Snap Peas

Breakfast: English Muffins with Avocado and Hard-boiled Eggs or Granola with Yogurt

Lunch: Grilled Chicken, Spinach Salad, and Baked Sweet Potatoes or Tex Mex Salad with Spicy Salmon

Happy Eating!

side note: Meals without links are recipes that I made up. Next step: start actually blogging these recipes. Baby steps, friends, baby steps.

Safe and Sound

Fletcher came home yesterday. Needless to say, we are thrilled. The time from our call from the emergency vet telling us we could come pick him up to the time we arrived was less than ten minutes.

He is still running a low-grade fever and is very weak, but we have been approved to monitor him from home.

We spent all of yesterday and most of today doing this:

Fletcher would like you to note his shaved right leg. He had a lot of IVs in two days.

Honestly, I feel like I might cry every time I look at him. I know that many people think of pets as just pets, but these two are our children. I told Hugh that after this weekend I cannot imagine having a baby because supposedly people love those even more than their pets. And I just don't know if my heart can handle that kind of love.

Quiet

My apologies for the radio-silence around the blog.

We rushed a high-fevered, shallow-breathing, unresponsive Fletcher to the emergency vet in the middle of the night on Friday.

The diagnosis is an unknown bacterial infection. He's still there this morning and doing a little bit better. We are anxiously awaiting an update call from the vet and hope to bring him home this afternoon.

Please send your positive thoughts this way. Our house sure is lonely without this boy.

Even Henry seems despondent.

Five!

Happy Birthday, Henry!

Our sweet boy is five years old today. It seems like only a blink since he's gone from this:


to this:


to this:


Henry is not a fan of anyone but his parents, and we (not that secretly) love that about him. We are so glad he chose us at the pound five short years ago.

We love you so, Henry Parker.

Spoiled.

So, my dog son is kind of spoiled. Or really, really spoiled, depending on whether or not you are an overly-indulgent dog mom yourself.

Last week when Hugh and I were out picking up some Five Guys for dinner (don't judge, sometimes a girl just needs a delicious bacon cheeseburger), I started feeling sad. Sad that Fletcher would just be staring longingly when we arrived home with our tasty dinner. Also sad for myself that I would have to push his face away from my plate every thirty seconds whilst trying to enjoy said burger. So I decided to ask the order-taker to give me an extra hamburger, sans bun.

Lucky for Fletcher, I can be quite charming. And I scored two hamburgers. For free!

Sorry for the blurry photo. Mandy is teaching me to take pictures without the flash. I am failing, obviously.

Clearly, Fletcher and I are soulmates. The dog loves some Five Guys.

This bowl full of amazingness disappeared in fourteen seconds. Literally.

Not quite.

I'm not quite ready for the week, which is unfortunate because the week tends to start regardless of my level of preparedness. So, here we are on Tuesday. That feels like a Monday.

However, the reason for my not being ready for the weekend to be over is pretty delightful. It's because we had a wonderful time this weekend. Because we ate too much, drank too much, and stayed up too late talking. As expected, we spent the whole weekend generally feeling like this:

I love it when the four of us are together. It is guaranteed that a good time will be had by all. And that our four-legged children will act like they've lost their minds for the entire visit.

So glad you came to visit, M Cubed! Now hurry up and move here.

PS Full recap of the food and drink (a new favorite) to come later this week when I can get my act together. If you want a recap of the activities, just imagine it pouring down rain for two solid days while the four of us sat in the kitchen talking and laughing and eating and drinking and the dogs ran around generally acting like feral and very spoiled heathens. That would be most accurate.