Oh, I Set That on Fire Too

It occurred to me after I posted about my most recent oven-fire activity, that I also forgot to tell you about the other thing I set on fire last month.  Well, technically I didn't set it on fire.  But it did burn.  And it was again cookie-related.  What's really interesting is that I don't burn food--just stuff that shouldn't be burned in the first place.  Guess I'm just special that way.

So, again, I'm in the kitchen making cookies.  These particular cookies were covered with a chocolate ganache that I made in a small pot on the cook top.  Since I've got the electric stove and the flat cook top, I occasionally forget to turn off the burners (or I turn on the wrong burner. Like when I turned on the burner under the slow cooker and melted some of the bottom off. It's not my fault--when there's no flame it's hard to tell what's going on!).  Anyway, I took the ganache off the stove, prepped my cookies and went about my business.  At one point I used a potholder and when I was done I placed it on top of the stove.

Apparently I placed it on the burner that was still on (low) because a few minutes later I smelled something funny and turned around to see my potholder smoking.

Crap.

Before Dave could notice (luckily he was in the basement), I turned off the burner, turned the vent on high and took the potholder outside on the deck.

I texted out this photo with the message "didn't actually set the kitchen on fire."  When Dave came upstairs, I told him I needed a new potholder.  He asked why and I told him to look on the deck.

The good news is at least I didn't have the potholder on the burner with the plastic grippy side down.  The bad news is that I think these were a wedding gift (Sorry, Kate!  It was well used while it lasted!).

I've asked Santa for a new potholder.  Or a new stove.  Whichever fits in my stocking.

Oops, I Did It Again

I'm so late posting this, but last week was in.sane.  Just terrible.

So remember when I told you the story of setting the oven on fire?  And how I told you if it happened again I'd tell you.

Well, consider this me telling you I set the oven on fire again.

Not good enough, huh?  Fine, I'll give you the full story.

Despite the fact that Dave thinks I do this to convince him to get me an industrial oven, I didn't do it on purpose.  I waited until the day after Thanksgiving this year to spend the day rolling out all my cookie dough for shapes and cookie cutters.  I was nearly done with my Old Fashioned Sugar Cut-Outs and was rolling out Linzer Tarts when I glanced from my rolling station to the oven. 

Where I saw a spark.

Dave was in the kitchen, so I opened the door and sure enough, there was a flame sparking from the electric heating coil.  

Again.

Me: Fire!

Dave (upon hearing the proper word for the situation) popped into action.  I told me to turn off the oven and ran for the fire extinguisher.  After completing my task, I immediately thought of how to save the cookies cooling on the racks and the dough rolled out on the kitchen table.  Luckily, with no electricity, the sparked subsided then stopped without using the fire extinguisher (and more importantly, without loosing any cookies or having to clean up the mess from the extinguisher). 

And that's the story of how I came to finish baking cookies on Black Friday in my toaster oven, one painful sheet at a time.  Because I'm resourceful.  And because the appliance store was closed that day and Dave couldn't get a replacement coil until Saturday.

So Saturday morning, Dave calls the appliance store as soon as they open to make sure they have the part in stock.  Then he made me go pick it up and pay for it (at least I supported Small Business Saturday).  The guy at the appliance store was very nice, recognizing that he must have just talked to my husband on the phone.  I explained that since I was the one that broke it (again), I had to come and get it. 

Back at home with the new part in hand, Dave put my oven back together and the baking commenced.  Here's hoping I can go longer than 6 years on this one.


PS: Yes I was tempted to video the whole thing, but I didn't want Dave to yell at me.  Later he asked me why I didn't video it.  D'oh!

Operation Baking GALS

As challenging as life has been these past few years, I've continued to seek ways that I can feel rewarded.  I truly believe in the good karma that comes from volunteers and giving of oneself in time, service or goods and money.  Since Dave and I have had to be careful with our budget during his unemployment, the checks once written to the causes we believe in have gotten smaller.  But my willingness to help has probably gotten bigger.

One of the reasons I started crocheting was so that I could give my friends and family beautiful homemade gifts, but also so that I could create items to donate to people in need.  So I've made  Comfort Scarves for women in domestic violence shelters and chemo caps for cancer patients at area hospitals.  We began fostering dogs for All Dog Rescue partly because of our desire to have a dog in our lives, but also to help save a dog and give it a good life while finding it's forever home.  We have the love, time and home to give so it made sense to get involved. 

About once a year my department at work has an opportunity to do a volunteer project.  We are given the opportunity to leave our desks for the morning and join a group of our coworkers to help out an area agency (as a group) for a few hours. Then we come back, have lunch and return to our desks for the afternoon, feeling fulfilled, at least in my part, because spending the morning sorting food at the Greater Boston Food Bank or organizing donated children's clothing at Cradles to Crayons puts everything in perspective and inspires me to be a better person and help those around me.

Even my baking has become a source of goodwill.  A couple weeks ago I was looking for recipes from a fellow blogger, Beantown Baker, and found a link to an organization called Operation Baking GALS (Give A Little Support).  The group is an all volunteer, web-organized effort that succeeds in getting groups of people to rally and bake homemade treats for service members.  The idea is that service members are nominated and each month maybe 5-10 teams are created to bake for one of the nominated individuals.  Team members bake up treats and ship them to their service member, who over about a week's time ends up with as many as a dozen or more packages full of goodies and other items from home.  The idea is to give these heroes a reminder of home and let them know they are supported, even if it's from a complete stranger.  I instantly loved the concept and had to join.

So this weekend I'll be baking for Denny, a first lieutenant in the Marines stationed in Afghanistan.  Denny grew up in Altoona, PA, not far from where I went to college and only a couple of hours from Pittsburgh.  When looking through the 10 nominated service members, I could have baked for any of them, but the almost-hometown connection sealed the deal.  I'll plan to make something yummy and add some extra store-bought comforts lacking in Afghanistan (apparently Denny is a fan of Cheez-its and Pringles).

It's so easy to be kind to people and help others.  Sort of amazing that in a time of financial crisis globally and a tight budget at home, I've found more ways to help people that I probably ever have before.  I plan on saving all these karma points for something big.

Bake Sale Begins Today!

Today's the day!  The Bloggers Bake for Hope Bake Sale has opened with dozens of delicious and tempting treats up for bid.  Please support this group of volunteer bloggers raising money for Race for the Cure by bidding on an item (or more).  Bidding will  close at midnight on Friday, so be sure to get your bids in by then.  And please pass this information along to anyone you know who might be interested!

From my kitchen, I've got Banana Split Cookies and Kid's Candy Cookies up for grabs.

Thanks for the support!

Bake Sale!

Bloggers Bake for Hope

Today I stumbled upon (literally, I was blog hopping and stumbled upon this link) a volunteer effort that I'm excited to join and something I think you might be interested in as well.

I hope you'll join me in supporting this cause.  If you're a baker, please register to donate an item.  If you like sweets, please consider bidding once the bake sale begins.

During the first week of May, a nation-wide, all volunteer virtual bake sale will take place to raise money for breast cancer research.  As a baking blogger, I am donating a batch of cookies I've featured on my baking blog.  Bloggers have until April 30th to register their goods, and already a lot of yummy treats are listed.  I'm sure you'll find something that catches your eye and teases your taste buds. 

Beginning May 4th you'll be able to bid on the treat (or treats) of your choosing.  If you win, your treats will be shipped directly to you.  The goal is raise $2,000 for the Komen Foundation, and I'm sure that can happen.  For more information, visit Bloggers Bake for Hope.

Birthday Celebration Weekend

Cindy's birthday was on Monday.  It was a milestone.  I won't tell you which one, but I will tell you that she and I are no longer the same decade-something.  You may remember last year we celebrated Cindy's birthday with an emergency party since her original plans were thwarted.  And it was awesome.  One would think that since we had ample time to plan and prepare, it would have been easy to be just as awesome as last year's celebration.

One would be wrong.

I didn't want to step on Keith's toes by planning a celebration without consulting him.  After all, he is her fiance.  So I was thrilled when he reached out to me for ideas in mid-February.  We thought of a couple of different options and I said I would explore them.  In January, Cindy and I scheduled an afternoon of manicures and pedicures for this past Saturday, so I knew we had to do something fun to follow in the evening.  I struggled with the idea of hosting a party but thought I could still pull it off even though I'd be with her in the late afternoon and would be crunching time to prepare.  We also considered a big dinner out with friends meeting us at a restaurant or just a bunch of people meeting us for drinks at a local bar.  After much struggling, we decided on just a couples dinner out.

In the meantime, Cindy had planned spa day and invited me to join her.  We decided to go on Monday (the actual birthday).  Mani/pedis on Saturday, and a facials/massages on Monday.  I could love this life.  A plan was coming together.  Now I just needed to add the awesomeness.

I started by making Cherry-Lemon Meringue Mini Pies for my new tradition of "Birthday Baking."  Yes, everyone gets cake on their birthday, but I don't do cakes.  So I pick the birthday boy or girl's favorite recipe (or flavors) of something other than cake and go to town. 

We'll ignore the fact that the picture only shows 11 mini pies and they appear to be stuck in the muffin pan.  For the full story, check out the recipe on the baking blog.  Appearances aside, Cindy was quite happy to receive a stone pan full of tasty lemony goodness at 8:15 am.

Yup, I decided to take them to her at work.  I wanted to kick off her birthday weekend with a bang, so on Saturday morning I arrived at her work and delivered the pies and this mildly obnoxious birthday centerpiece.  And her gift.

Because nothing says "Happy Birthday!  Let's drink!" like a 3 foot floating margarita.  Especially when delivered to your place of employment.  On a Saturday morning.  At 8:15 am.

Later in the afternoon I headed to Cindy's house and we drove to the salon, about a half hour away.  We go to Bella Sante every 6-8 months for some good girl time, and this visit was just as good.  It's a little swanky and far away, so we save it for special occasions.  We had a great time, chatting and generally enjoying ourselves.  Keith and I had decided to keep the dinner plans a secret, so when our nail technicians asked us where we were going afterward, I kept it vague and open.  Afterward, we got in the car and I "suggested" going to a particular restaurant.  My little white lie that is was based on a recommendation from a foodie friend was totally warranted. 

We got the the Beacon Grille and headed to the bar.  The restaurant was great.  It was much bigger than I expected and got pretty busy for the dinner rush while we waited.  I positioned myself facing the door, so I could see Dave and Keith come in and make sure Cindy would have her back to them.  The funny thing was, I kept seeing groups of people who were clearly celebrating birthdays come in.  Multiple groups carrying balloons and gifts kept coming in.  I noticed a balloon with Cindy's milestone come in and said, "oh look--It's somebody else's big birthday too."  Clearly, I'd chosen the right celebration restaurant.

Our bartender, Melissa, was a sweetheart and made great recommendations.  She offered us menus, asking if we'd be eating at the bar.  I casually said, "Oh, maybe in a little while."  She brought us our drinks and eventually we did order an appetizer (the cheese platter which was awesome.  Cindy loves cheese the way I love chocolate, so clearly it was a winner.)  While we were enjoying our cocktails and tasty morsels, Keith showed up behind Cindy and said, "Happy Birthday!"  She was completely surprised.

Dinner was fabulous. The menu wasn't very extensive, but very carefully crafted and everything thoughtfully paired.  True to form, Dave and Cindy--we like to joke that Dave is Cindy's boyfriend, and vice versa--were debating over the same two entrees so each ordered one and they shared.  This is pretty normal behavior.  Our waiter, Ruben, was incredibly attentive and had great recommendations.  He was even successful in recommending a cocktail to Keith that he enjoyed, which was surprising because Keith is generally picky.  They comp'ed Cindy's dessert (and presented it on a huge plate with "Happy Birthday" written in caramel sauce) and we were very pleased with the evening. 

On Monday morning, I picked Cindy up and headed to Essential Therapies Day Spa.  It was a dreary day, but any day is great for pampering.  We were welcomed by the official greeter, Callie.

Isn't she a sweetie?  She's about six months old, super sweet, well trained and has really soft ears.  She loves people so she had no problem when I couldn't keep my hands over her.  We spent some time in the hot tub, eating fruit and drinking mimosas before going off for facials and massages.  I can't even begin to describe the massage other than to say it was positively awesome.  We finished off our morning in the sauna despite the sauna being outside and that it had started to snow.  The snow had nothing to deter us from enjoying the cedar hot house.  We showered, changed and headed out to lunch (yes, that included more cocktails).

After a weekend of fun and much pampering (and some drinking), it was certainly hard to come back to work this week.  I suppose that's the price I pay for celebrating with friends.  I hope Cindy had as much fun as I did.  Now we just need an excuse to do it all again.

Cookies and Darts and Cold, Oh My!

I'm a terrible blogger.

I promise to be better.  Even when stupid work and life get in the way of my precious blogging time.

But this is the 100th blog post, so Happy 100, Blog!

Updates:

We had a fabulous time in Pittsburgh.  I have bunch of side stories, but here are the highlights: I totally rocked the bake-off (although Amy did make a good showing).  I made my famous banana bread with a streusel topping, Peanutbutter Bombs as my cookie entry and classic Whoopie Pies.  It was the first time for the Whoopie Pies and they were awesome.  Recipes will begin to be posted in the Cookie Princess blog tomorrow (yup, Kate--that's a promise).

Gooey but delicious

Our Dart Battle Royale was hilarious.  In the past we'd done teams, but this one was really an every man for himself situation.  There were some alliances, but at one point my niece, Elyse, encouraged anarchy.  When little Abi said, "I thought you were on my team," Elyse responded, "There are no teams!"  Hilarious.

Dave & Nate using the "I'll just sit here and shoot whoever I can see" strategy

JR is street, yo

Aidan decided the tree-stand method might be the best attack mode

We even gave my mom a little single shot Derringer-style dart gun.  She had to wait until someone else hit her to reload though.

But the best is the machine gun.  And the fact that my 4-year-old niece took control of that beast immediately.  She couldn't reload it though, so she would hand it to one of the grown-ups (usually Grandpap) and then go around collecting all the ammo.  The gun only held 20 darts, but she would pick up like 50 and bring them all to my dad.  The nice thing about being little was she could go into the battle zone to pick up ammo and rarely got shot.

Power Up

Unloading on Uncle J

Oh, and the Steelers won that weekend.  Also awesome.  Then the Jets beat the Patriots (can't say I'm sad about that).  Then last weekend, the Steelers beat the Jets and now they're going to the Super Bowl.  I'm totally stoked.

Yes we're wearing the same shirt.  No that wasn't planned.  Yes we're awesome.

But then I found out I was living in the arctic.  Seriously, I thought I was going to see penguins outside.  This was the temperature when I went to bed on Sunday night.

And this was when I woke up on Monday morning.

Seriously?  It never got above 0 on Monday.  That's absurd.  So since I really can't complain about the snow (even though we're having storms of 6-10 inches twice a week), I won't hesitate to complain about the cold.  Freakin' cold.  Ug.

Bake Off and Dart Battle

This weekend Dave and I are headed to Pittsburgh to visit my parents.  JR will be there with his daughter and Amy is coming with her family.  It'll be a fun time. 

What's that?  You remember a bake off challenge posed to my sister and I, instigated by my brother?  Why yes, this would be the opportunity to settle the score.  I'm not sure what we're calling it--Baker Death Match seems a little extreme.  but we will have three rounds (cookies, banana bread and baker's choice dessert).

We decided JR had to come up with judging criteria and a scoring sheet since he started all this.  He responded that he would and the judging would consist of all factors, including bribery.  Lucky for me I had already planned on giving Elyse my old laptop.

I'm so winning this bake off.

Additionally, we have a bit of a Nerf dart gun challenge to settle.  I think we have about 300 rounds of ammo and some sort of Nerf blaster for each of us (my parents included).  We had one of these battles last Christmas (2009).  In November 2010, my dad found more rogue darts around the living room.

This isn't the exact one I have, but it's a rotating canister.
And safety glasses?  Really?

Perhaps we should have the bake off after the Nerf challenge.  Between being hopped up on sugar and the possibility of Amy gunning for me from kicking her butt, I may not survive.

And the answer is yes, the adults absolutely have more fun than the kids.

Bake Off

While my family was visiting over Thanksgiving, my brother decided to start some trouble.  While playing some games after dinner, somehow we got into a conversation about my baking and then it turned to my sister and eventually someone said, "You and Amy should have a bake off."  To which I replied, jokingly, "I would kick Amy's ass in a bake off."

Never one to let something go, and always willing to instigate something that will bring him food, JR took my phone and immediately texted that comment to Amy.  The following is a transcript of the frezied texting exchange.  Allow me to set the scene:  It's 10:00 pm on Thanksgiving night.  I am at home, having enjoyed a great Thanksgiving dinner, playing games with my parents, husband, brother and his girlfriend.  Amy as at her in-laws, having enjoyed a great Thanksgiving dinner, playing games with her in-laws, husband, sister-in-law and her husband, and there are four children under 7 who may or may not be around or awake.

Amy: No way lady...

Me:  oh, it's on...like donkey kong.

Amy: Bring it...

Me: oh it's already brought

Amy: Is that the eggnog talking? 

Amy: Even Ceil can't help you there. (referring to Grandma's "curse" on Amy)

Amy: Name your medium.

Me: um, cookies...bitch :)

Amy: I knew that...can you do anything else? :-P

Me: fine banana bread it is sucka

Amy: Love you!

Amy: That's fine.  But cookies is good too. Really.  It will be tasty.  I bake banana bread, but I don't eat it.

Me: betty crocker is my homegirl


Me: scared much? sounds like you're backpedaling. :)

Amy: Yes I'm scared.  Can you do a cookie from scratch?  no mixes or refrigerated dough allowed. (seriously?  I'm actually offended by this comment.)

Me: oh no you didn't

Amy:  Or...let's go straight to cake.  Paula deen is my bitch

Me: did karen (Amy's mother-in-law) just tell you to tell me that paula deen was your bitch?

Amy: Love ya...mean it!!

Amy: No.  Walter (Amy's father-in-law) actually.  And Shelley (Amy's sister-in-law)

Me: check betty crocker's facebook wall. you'll find the cookie princess featured.  you still wanna rumble? ;)

Amy:  Yeah why not?  Seriously...how much fun & tasty will that be?

Me: i make sara lee look like a hot dog stand with health code violations


Amy: Margaritas much?  Nobody does it like amy!! (Is this not the most random comment in this entire exchange?  How could I not ask her about her alcohol intake?)

Me:  how jack [daniels] have you had tonight?

Amy: "How jack"? You mean how much? Just one so far.  You?

Me: two yuenglings while cooking :)

Amy: Nice!

And that about ended it for the night.  Thirty minutes of texting ending with confirmation that perhaps we should not engage in drunk texting if were not even drunk.  A few days later we were actually talking on the phone and I explained that it all started because JR had sent the first comment.  And then we both admitted to be egged on by the co-conspirators around us who are really just looking for a means of getting to sample a bunch of yummy baked goods. 

Amy: But really, we should do this. I've been thinking about it.  We could have three rounds.  Round one would be a cookie. Round two would be banana bread.  And round three would be a dessert of your choosing.

Me:  You've put a lot of thought into this.

Amy:  I watch too much Top Chef Desserts.

Time and place to be determined, but looks like next time we get together, some lucky judge is going into a diabetic coma.

Umm...Fire?

In Tuesday's post, I mentioned that if I ever set the oven on fire again, I'd tell you.  Well, this prompted a few people to ask, "Again?"  Implying there had been a first instance.  So even though it happened 5 years ago, well before I turned 30, I suppose it's a good enough story to share with you here.

When Dave and I were still dating, we were long distance for about 2 years.  We would make the 7 hour drive to visit about once a month or so.  This included one Thanksgiving weekend that I came to visit Dave.  Since Thanksgiving is a great bunch days off in a row, perfect for cookie baking, I decided I would make a few batches during my visit.

Dave had moved into the house about a year prior, and while he's pretty handy in the kitchen, he hadn't really used the electric oven all that often.  Less than a handful of times in the year.  In I march, ready to bake, and really gave the oven a workout, having it on for a few hours while I bakeds batch after batch of cookies.  Busying myself in the kitchen, Dave was in the living room watching TV or playing video games.  I had several cooling racks full of cookies, having just completed a batch of Peanut Butter Cookies, and just starting on a recipe of Oatmeal Cranberry.  My first two sheets of oatmeal cookies were in the oven when the timer went off and  I opened the oven door.

There was a flame.

In the electric oven.

So I did what any logical person would do.  I shut the door.  I stood there for a second and thought, "Surely that wasn't a flame."  Assuming the flour had officially gone to my head, I chalked it up to me seeing things, and opened the oven door again.

Nope, there's still a flame in there.

Me: S#!T!

Dave: (no response)

Me: S#!T! S#!T! S#!T!

Dave: (no response)

See, here's the thing.  Even at this early stage in our relationship, and only seeing each other for a few days each month, Dave had already become immune to my use of the word S#!T!.  Turns out I use it so frequently that when Dave would ask, "What's wrong?", my standard response was, "Nothing."  It became a new twist on crying wolf.  Only I was crying S#!T! and needed to find a way to get his attention.  So I searched my vocabulary for a word that would express the dire situation unfolding in the oven.

Me: FIRE!

Dave, boy scout and lab safety professional that he is, sprang to his feet and practically jumped over the couch.  He grabbed the fire extinguisher (I'm not sure I knew where that was) and asked where the fire was.  I opened the oven door and then immediately began opening doors and windows to blow the smoke out, sort of stunned and a little scared.  I just set my boyfriend's kitchen on fire!

I should have gotten Dave these cookies from www.sunflowerbaking.com

After the fire was out and the smoke cleared, Dave calmed me down and we went about cleaning up (all those poor, innocent, extinguished cookies) and figuring out what had happened.  Apparently at some point in the oven's life prior to Dave, someone had a messy oven episode and something had dropped onto the heating element in the oven (the black oval shaped thing on the bottom of the oven that turns red when it gets hot).  Whatever the mess was got stuck on the element and was never cleaned off.  It had never been a problem before since Dave never left the oven on for that long.  But since I had the oven cranking for so many hours, eventually the goop just combusted and when it did, the element caught on fire as well, completely ruining it.

Luckily, Dave is also very handy and knows how to fix things.  This was the day before Thanksgiving. So the day after Thanksgiving, he called a local appliance store, explained what he needed and started to give the serviceman the part number.  The guy at the store actually rattled off the last few digits of the part number and said, "Yeah, I've got one of those left.  We always have a few people who need one of those the day after Thanksgiving."  

It made me feel better to know I wasn't the only one in town to set the oven on fire that weekend.

Apple Picking!

Fall in New England means it's time to hit the orchards and pick delicious apples right off the trees. Dave and I are lucky that we have a volunteer run orchard right in our town, which just happens to be the birthplace of Johnny Appleseed. We've actually been picking three times this season, but yesterday was the first day we remembered the camera.

Since part of our task with fostering Chiquita is to get her exposed to people and social situations, we decided to take her with us. She loves to ride in the car, but prefers the highway. She actually starts to whimper when you slow down.

Monday morning we called Red Apple Farm to see if they allowed pets. They do! So we got our stuff together and headed about 30 minutes west. It's a great little farm that has a lot of activity for the whole family. In addition to pick your own fruits (seasonal apples, pumpkins, peaches, berries, and more), they also offer hayrides, farm animals, a BBQ pit set up on weekends, and a country store full of all the apple-y goodness fall has to offer.

Chiquita did pretty good on the way to the farm but was so excited once we pulled into the lot. She rode the whole way in the tailgate area of Dave's Jeep, but having to stop and get directed by a guy in the parking lot caused her to spring to the back seat and practically lick Dave's ear off trying to meet this new person. Once parked, she did get back into the tailgate for Dave to let her out, so there is progress.


We got directions to the apply picking, and Chiquita was in seventh heaven with all the attention. She got lots of pets and even got to lick some friendly people. There were an awful lot of distractions, but she did pretty well. There were even times when she listened! She made friends with a few little kids and gave them gentle licks, which was good to see her interact well with little ones. And she even met another doggie friend. That went...OK. They were friendly at first and then something happened. We're not sure if the other dog aggressed or if there was some misinterpreted barking, but she let Dave pull her away onto other things.


One cool thing about the farm is it's wind turbine. The farm is powered by a recently installed 15kw windmill. A brisk New England day, the turbine spun the whole time we were there, and it was remarkably quiet.

You can sort of see it behind this barn. I was trying to take a picture of the hayride, but didn't turn out so much. :)

At least the orchard had other things going on and Chiquita got some good exercise, because the apples left a lot to be desired. We were able to pick about a dozen Yellow Newtown Pippins (yeah, I'd never heard of them either), but the Baldwin trees were wiped clean save for the tiny and frost damaged ones. Disappointed, I ended up taking my meager bag to the country store to pay, only to find some beautiful McIntosh apples there. So I picked up a bag there.

I showed true restraint in the country store, because all you could smell were amazing apple baked goods. I did cave in and bought one apple cider doughnut for Dave and I to share, but I refrained from the pies, the dozens of doughnuts to take home, the apple cider and even the homemade fudge.

We got back to the car and enjoyed our doughnut while Chiquita got a cookie and a last little lick on a 2 year old girl coming by on a wagon. Lucky for her she had the sense to keep her cookie in the hand farthest from Chiquita.

We figured the ride home would result in a sleepy puppy, passed out in the back. Unfortunately she was still wound up, and as we were on the highway, before I could stop her, she had jumped into the back seat with no hope in getting her back.

This is what a bad dog looks like.

So Chiquita didn't earn any cookies for the ride home. But considering she's probably never been exposed to that many people and animals (and pigs at the farm) at one time, she did pretty well. She's only a year old, and still a puppy in many ways, so we're calling it a win. We'll just have to keep exposing her to break some bad habits.

Meanwhile, I have to find some recipes so I can bake up some apple cookies with my Yellow Pippins.