|This week: No More Exposed Attic|
The painters took down the hideous aluminum triple track storm windows. This is a golden opportunity to wash the windows, which I pointed out to Jon on Saturday morning, but he was not nearly as enthusiastic as I was.
I know storm windows are a necessity, but they are ugly and the view is better and the house is prettier without them. I've been researching storm window alternatives for old houses, but there don't seem to be many options unless you have an unlimited cash flow. Indeed, according to the internet, storm windows are getting hard to find because everyone has replacement windows that don't need storms. Old houses with shitty replacement windows are an abomination.
|Our basement window needs some attention.|
Brigid came home for dinner on Saturday, so I made a peach pie. The Piled High Peach Pie from the August, 1995 issue of Bon Apetit is, as far as we're concerned, the only peach pie recipe. I don't make it often because it is so much work. Seamus made barbeque ribs for the occasion, with homemade succotash.
|Pie: it's not just for breakfast|
Before dinner, Seamus and I inspected the garden.
|A bumper crop of habaneros|
Sunday, I made cherry butter. I'm not so sure about the finished product. According to the recipe, three cups of chopped, pitted cherries should yield one pint of butter, but I got just a half pint. Maybe I cooked it down too much? I was in a rush and turned the heat to high to shorten the cooking time. The consistency is a bit stiff, almost approaching leather territory, but it tastes nice, and used up a bag of cherries that nobody seemed interested in eating. We like cherries in theory, but we don't like dealing with the pits. I'll call this a job well done.
|The saints approve.|