Rudi is away and the weather is crummy and I’m PMSing, so I need to come up with a game plan for getting through this weekend — a mix of fun and accomplishment and self-care. Here’s what I’m thinking:

• Bake. I picked up buttermilk to give the aebelskiver pan my folks gave me for Christmas a try. And, as you can see, I have some Hubbard squash to play with. This was a medium-small one, coming in at less than 8 pounds and giving around 8 cups of baked squash to do something with. (The internet suggested I was going to have a problem getting into the squash, but I put it in the sink to give me the height leverage I needed and used Rudi’s big chef’s knife. I’m almost disappointed I didn’t have to resort to the tip I saw on more than one site, which was to throw it, with some force, on the kitchen floor to crack it. (I was going to put it in a bag first so as not to cover my entire kitchen with pumpkin.) I did use an ice cream scoop to empty out the cooked shells, an easy tip, which I pass along to any of you who have brought home gigantic squash.) I didn’t season it at all, so I’m free to use it for sweet or savory recipes, but it is naturally quite sweet, so I’m leaning toward the former.
• Paint my nails. I’m thinking Mardi Gras colors.
• Do laundry — sheets and underwear, not together.
• Partake of the member sale at the bookstore.
• Take myself out for pizza. Well, courtesy of Mum and Dad.
• Get outside tomorrow, when there’s hope for some sun, or, at least, a lack of precipitation.
• Pull together my tax documents so I can do a preliminary evaluation this coming week. My severance package was already going to make things interesting, but I’m even more nervous after hearing friends’ bill amounts this year. I’m hopeful that since the government deems nothing I own to be of value, it won’t be thousands more than last year, like some people I know.
• Mop (swiffer) the bathroom and kitchen floors.
• Play music loudly. My usual songs weren’t doing it for me earlier this week, but I’m thinking it’s because my phone wasn’t turned up enough. Note to self: Charge the speakers before going to bed.
• Block my shawl. (Kat asked what the yarn was earlier this week. It’s Crazy Zauberball in 1564 Frische Fische. So far, my query for leftovers on Ravelry has come up empty, although someone came close earlier tonight.) It’s modular garter stitch, so I don’t want to block it too vigorously, or it’ll lose all its nice squish, but I’m hopeful it could get a little deeper without affecting its texture.
• Get to the farmers market early enough for milk.
• Start my Sock Madness sock (once the pattern becomes available.
• Read.

How about you? What’s your weekend looking like?

Walking up to the park this afternoon, I saw signs everywhere that spring has nearly arrived.

This bunch of crocuses:

The daffodil finally popped:

And its brethren are set to follow suit:

I know many of you are buried under feet of snow and these signs are still a long way off in your own neighborhoods. But I hope you’ll take them, as I do, of signs that winter will not last forever.

(In that spirit, I wore footie socks out today. It was a mistake, but I did it anyway.)

This weekend included:

• A talk by an artist
• Knitting outside over hot chocolate
• Enjoying all the winter/sprint flowers

• Fewer chores than there should have been
• A lot more streaming tv than necessary (I discovered one of the libraries I belong to lets you borrow Acorn memberships!)
• Not flooding
• Cuddling Corey

• A very large (and delicious) salad
• A bagful of produce from the farmers market (including ingredients for cottage pie)

• Reading on Book Hill
• Enjoying zataar fries before the sun set

• Chatting with my folks
• Welcoming Rudi home

How was your weekend?

Spring seems to be just around the corner, according to some of what I noticed while walking around my neighborhood today:

Gramma used to think, not incorrectly, that sometimes my head got in my way. You just can’t do things the easy way, can you, she’d ask. Often this isn’t true, except when it utterly is.

I’ve been hankering after her Blitz torte, which is a two-layer, meringue-topped cake with pineapple and cream filling, something she used to make quite frequently and which I haven’t had since, I think, before she went to live with my folks. It’s been a long time. I have the recipe for it, though, so I decided that this year I was going to make a birthday cake and that that was going to be it.

There are a few minor causes for concern to that plan. I have never successfully made meringue. I don’t especially like to follow directions exactly. I don’t have two cake pans of the same size.

While I knew I could wash and reuse my one round cake pan, I decided instead that I had these heart-shaped mini cake pans Karen gave to me years ago and that they were probably together roughly the same size as what was called for in the recipe. Never mind that this was going to make it far more challenging to remove each piece from the pan intact. I’d decided this was the best way to go, and we were going this way.

I ended up not making the cake last week for a couple reasons, but ultimately this was a good thing, I think. Instead, I embarked upon it this afternoon and finished it up tonight.

I separated nearly twice as many eggs as the recipe called for, first because one egg was bad and I hadn’t been pouring the egg whites into a fresh container from the one I was separating them over, so I lost two egg whites when the third was bad. Another I broke the yolk when I cracked the egg. (The two spare yolks and the broken egg went into the fridge for use another day.) I’d originally intended to whip the egg whites first using my Kitchen Aid beater attachment, but then I made the cake batter first and didn’t have the bowl available. So I had to whip the egg whites by hand. After half an hour of whisking, I didn’t have any peaks, let alone stiff ones, but it was definitely thicker, so I decided it was good enough.

Four-plus hours after embarking upon this baking journey, I have at least two loads of dishes to handwash, ten wonky cakelets (in which nine of them had the meringue topping separate from the cake when I attempted to get them out of the pans — why does meringue want to stick to everything except the cake itself?!), and still no cake. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll make the filling using the cream I had to buy after we discovered my older cream had clotted (I’ll make scones).

There were tears earlier, so it’s good I didn’t try to make this on my birthday. God, I hope it tastes okay. I’ll have put six hours into this damn thing before we ever get a bite…

I could have done things the easy way, but then it wouldn’t have been my way, would it?

Now pardon me while I go put a dent in those dishes…

Tomorrow would be my guess, but maybe Monday if the sun doesn’t come out until then…