One of the worst parts about being married to Ian is that Ian is a man who doesn't like custard. Maybe that doesn't sound too horrible to some people, but for someone who thinks of custard pie as a top tier comfort food, this can be problematic.

I've never been able to figure out just why he doesn't like custard. Every time I ask, I get vague I-just-don't-wanna answers that I tried to accept, but. I mean. Custard.

Cooking: A Sickness

We brought in the groceries, filled the refrigerator and the cupboards, and put the empty tote bags away. I tucked foil lasagna pans onto a shelf and hung my new 16 quart stock pot on the rack. And then, for a moment, I just marveled.

This was SRS BSNS, and it was all mine.

My job as a housewife is to make sure that my family is managed on a day to day basis. I cook, mostly. That's my primary superpower. I am okay at laundry. I am horrible at scrubbing. My bathroom is a failure of sanitation.

How the IRS Made Me a Better Housewife (those jerks)

Two months ago, we got notice from the IRS that our monthly payment on our 2008 tax bill was being increased. We've been chipping away at that gargantuan debt the best we can, but still there's a lien on the house and a hefty lump of cash deducted from our checking account every month. But since the IRS finally calculated that we wouldn't be able to pay off our debt within their 10 year time budget, the hefty lump had to get a bit heftier.

Yeah, totally. Of course I cried.

Beef Coriander like a Wizard

Monday's original meal plan was beef stew, simmered slowly all day until the meat was fall apart tender. But when five o'clock hit and it wasn't in the Dutch oven, I needed a quick replacement. I'd been feeling particularly sad all day so I wanted some comfort food. My flavor of comfort? Is always served on rice.

Crazy Food

Growing up, we had the same rotation of weeknight meals that could be made by a young child armed with a seasoning packet, ground beef and tomato paste. My sister and I alternated cooking and freezing those dinners on the weekend and then reheating them on the appointed evening. When I first discovered that there were other ways to make spaghetti sauce, I nearly lost my biscuits. My high school friends and I went through this phase where we got together at my house and cooked some disgusting concoction in an attempt, I think, to ruin my mother's cookware.

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