OK, I ripped off the title for this entry: It's from a children's book I've never read, but I guess I must have seen the title a few times; all I did was substitute my name for Alexander's. It seems to describe my day yesterday.
"But Donna, you seemed to be so happy making pumpkin pie filling. What happened?"
Yes. Yes, I was happy and feeling like a character out of "Little House on the Prairie" making my own pumpkin pie filling from scratch. I didn't mind that the crustless pie I baked was a little watery; I just knuckled down and learned how to reduce the liquid in the next batch of puree. Well, I only got about four cups of puree made before my food processor breathed its last breath. Not to worry, the instructions on processing pumpkin from it's natural state included the fact that you can also use a blender to get the fibrous strands broken down. I don't have a blender, but I thought my daughter did. I put the baked pumpkin flesh in a measuring cup and set it in the refrigerator, planning to borrow her blender when she was home from work.
Cliff's brother was here so so the two of them could work on their progress getting the loader to work with Phil's tractor, so I decided to make mashed potatoes and meat loaf and macaroni-and-tomatoes and corn (too much starch, but who's counting? I know what those guys like.)
Somewhere in the preparation of that meal, I stabbed my thumb with my granny knife. Notice that sharp little stabbing tip.