BS, recipes, Sweets, The Vault

Grace personified – that’s me

I've kind of been a good girl about my 2011 intentions and kicking my own ass.  For example, this past Sunday I cranked out 45 minutes on the treadmill, at 4 miles an hour, full incline.  For those of you that know me well, this actually had the potential to be a HUGE. DISASTER.  Because I trip over air.  And when you trip over air, damn-near running on motorized equipment on bad knees and ankles installed on runty legs such as mine is just asking for trouble.  From there, I hit the TG for squats, butterflies, and a bunch of other evil exercises designed to get rid of the double wave my arms have going on and get my ass off my knees.  Disaster, however, was averted.

Fast forward to Tuesday, 6:15 AM.  Not so much luck this time with the disaster avoidance. 

Yoga pants?  Check.  Tank top?  Check.  Hair out of the way?  Check.  This is important later in the story, so make a note.

The tushie was little sore from Sunday, so I left the treadmill incline all the way up, but dropped the pace down to 3.5 mph and only did 20 minutes.  Moving to the Total Gym, I only did 2 reps of 20 instead of 3 on all my bottom half  torture.  I set the machine up for my last exercise of the morning – squats.  [I started doing these (and then slacked off) when I was diagnosed with osteoporosis because bones like weight-bearing exercise and the stairs to our basement quite frankly scare me (I'm gonna fall down 'em, I just know it).]  Anyway, I slide the thingy on the machine all the way up, pinching my thumb in the process, but that's nothing out of the ordinary 'round here.  I laughed at The Gidge, who was barking the walls down because she hates all this machinery, and neglected to disconnect the pulley system.

You may already know where this is going if you've looked at my latest photo under "The Lunatics" tab on this site.  See how long my hair is?  On this particular day, I pulled it back into a simple braid and left it hanging. 

Yeah, you know where this is going.  Cuz we're talking about me.

TG at full incline, wing accessory at the bottom of the sliding board.  Pulley NOT disconnected.  Me on my back on the board.  Push…whimper….push….whine….push…. (wait for it)


OWWWWWWWWWWW!  SH**DAMNFU**INGHELL!  This was what came out of my mouth when I pushed the board toward the top of the TG the third time…and MY BRAID GOT CAUGHT IN THE PULLEY.


People, I swear to God I should not be left to my own devices.  Give me a computer, fancy cell phone, software, saw, hammer, broken garbage disposal, plugged plumbing, or a cordless drill (unless I'm expected to drill through 1/4" plywood with the biggest bit – I have proved that I can give myself a concussion doing this and there were witnesses) and I am pretty dang competent.  But anything having to do with my body?  Better wrap my ass in Charmin because there are bruises comin'.

Laughing so hard I almost wet my fave yoga pants, I planted my feet on the floor and slowly let the board back down until my head was straight and I could carefully work my hair out of my latest graceful move.  The Gidge was barking the whole time and I had tears rolling.  Baby just looked at me like he always does – you know, the "this human is beneath me" cat look – before using his litter box and making the whole scene complete. 

Well, not quite.

I got a grip on the giggles, took a drink of water, and went back to my squats AFTER putting my braid into a bun and…you guessed it…disconnecting the pulley.  When I finished,  I let myself slide all the way down to the floor to calm the spastic dog.  I sat for a few minutes petting her, then tried to get up.  Ladies and gentlemen, this movement was a FAILURE.  Go figure – too much with the dancing in hooker shoes and plies and squats and the treadmill ass-beating on my out-of-shape self left my thigh and hip muscles under mutiny.  I finally dragged myself off the floor and got ready for work, but every time I had to get out of my office chair that day was a rather unpleasant experience.  I actually considered just rolling around the building in my chair, but I figured I would find a way to dump myself onto the floor…and me without a "help-I've-fallen-and-I-can't-get-up" button.

Good times.  I'm such a knob.

How does this lead into today's recipe?  I don't have the first clue yet I'm sure it will come to me shortly.  But you have to admit that was funny and we all know I'm all good with poking at my sore spots with a stick.  Now onward to the real reason we're here.

DoDoDoDo….DoDoDooooo….DoDoDoDoDut…DoDoDoDoDo…  Ah, the elusive connection no longer hides from me.

I grew butternut squash in my garden last year for the first time.  I had way too many of them to eat all by my lonesome, so I roasted what I couldn't eat, pureed and froze it.  I got a bunch of pie pumpkins from the farm and did the same thing.  So I have frozen gourd goo coming out my ass.  Perhaps I should have considered stacking them under my ass last fall rather than shoving them up so I wouldn't have to bust those muscles, but then I wouldn't have been able to entertain you with yet another tale about my unparalleled skill for self-inflicted damage.

Aaaaaaannnnnnnnd there's your connection.

Ahhh…pumpkin.  I love me some pumpkin.  I put it in muffins and cakes and pies.  I put it in my morning oatmeal with currants and chopped, unpeeled apple.  I put it in cupcakes.  I put it in risotto.  I roast it and put it in vegetarian lasagna.  But until today, I hadn't put it in a cookie.  So here we are.  Drizzle them with a simple powdered sugar/milk icing, slather them with cream cheese, eat them naked…whatever floats your boat.

Sometimes accidents are awesome; when I did my first test cookie after whipping up the batter, I was a tad horrified by the height and texture (not so much a cookie as we'd think of one).  But they quickly grew on me as they are.  Considerably cakier than anticipated, I'm thinking that I may be eating some for breakfast while I watch my ass creep back toward my knees.

Pumpkin Puff Cookies

Adapted from The Vault

3/4 cup brown rice flour

3/4 cup tapioca flour

1/2 cup millet flour

1/4 cup potato starch

1/4 teff flour

2 1/2 tsp xanthan gum

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

2 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/4 tsp kosher salt

1/2 cup softened butter

3/4 cup sugar

1 cup pumpkin puree (DON'T USE PIE FILLING!)

1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Line cookie sheets with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, stir together the brown rice flour, tapioca flour, millet flour, potato starch, xanthan, baking powder, baking soda, and spices.  In a large bowl (and a hand mixer) or stand mixer bowl, cream together the butter and sugar.  Add the pumpkin, egg, applesauce, and vanilla.  Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet until fully mixed.

Drop the dough by heaping tablespoons onto the prepared pans.  I use my trusty baby ice cream scoop for this (spray it with cooking spray first).  If you don' t like the rustic look I have going here, feel free to slightly flatten the tops before placing in the oven.  Bake for 18-20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of one of the cookies comes out clean.  Let the cookies stand for a minute or two before moving them to a cooling rack to finish the process.  Ice them or leave them plain; they're excellent either way.


Next on Just Not Dinner….Another recipe and maybe a conversation about my latest hooker shoes, the slut skirt and my plans for both.


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