I love budgeting.

Most people who know me are wondering who I am and what I did with Lisa.  I know it sounds weird.  And you can bet I wouldn't have said, "I love budgeting" 3 months ago when I likened it to having my hair pulled out while living like an ascetic.  But I've come around to the idea.  Guess it's because I'm just anal and controlling enough that seeing where every penny goes give me a giddy sense of empowerment.

In the past three months, I've paid more on my one remaining credit card than I would have thought possible, and have gone no further into debt.  CC is paying off his last card as well, and when we finish, we'll only owe on the mortgage.

My biggest weakness is dining out (because I LOVE food), but having a set budget for that means we get to eat out once a week, and the anticipation makes it even more special.  And CC has been great about talking me down when I'm weak.  I've also discovered I can make many things I love at home.  I mean, I've always enjoyed cooking, but I just never thought about making my own satay or kimchi or yogurt.  Did I mention empowerment?  It's so cool to realize I can easily make food that would cost $3.69+ a pint at the grocery store for only about $1.50 and a little time.

I was under the mistaken impression I was in control of my money without a budget. I was of the "Budget?  We don't need no stinkin' budget!" school.  Now I've seen the light.  And, while I don't expect this post to convert everyone to budgeting (I'm not a missionary on any level), I just wanted you to know it's working for me.

Mujadara

Dinner last night was a vegetarian meal of mujadara (lentils and rice with caramelized onions),  roasted rutabaga and parsnips, and sauteed spinach with garlic.  Mmmmm.  Comfort food.

Owls are scary smart.

I just finished reading Wesley the Owl by Stacey O'Brien after stumbling upon it at my local public library.  If you love animals or just love animal stories, I highly recommend reading this book about a biologist's experiences living 18 years with a barn owl.  It's amazing.

Andouille gumbo

After a trip this weekend to the Farmers' Market (the store, not the gathering), I decided to make andouille gumbo last night.  I love Liz and Frank and their Market so much that I'm touting them without any compensation.  They have great meat, veggies, spices, bulk goods, dairy, international goods, and prices.  Stop by and see them sometime.

I used their andouille sausage, okra I had frozen last summer and homemade shrimp broth.  Hopefully, next time I make this, I can use homegrown parsley, onions and garlic as well.  Keep your fingers crossed for my garden!

Science project?

Ode to crawfish

Colorful cajun crustaceans, how I love you.  I do things to you I wouldn't do to any other food.  I twist you, I suck your head, I pinch your tail.  All in the name of love.  And love hurts.  You make my lips burn.  You make my fingers raw.  And if I happen to scratch something delicate, like my eye (why oh why does my eye always betray me and itch after I've dipped into the spice?), you reward me with a blazing explosion of pain.  Yet I love you still.  You are my drug.  Please don't ever leave me.

The afterglow aftermath.

Crab boil...mmmmm

We LOVE snow crab legs.  A couple of nights ago, we decided to boil some crab legs I had bought on sale for $4.99/lb.  Wow...I don't think I'll ever pay retail price for crab again!  And we were out of crab boil, so I made it myself from spices we had on hand.  Virtually free, and TASTY.  Here's what the boil looked like:

Sorry, no pictures of the crab legs.  I was too intent on eating them to photograph them.

Maybe I was wrong.

It's beautiful here today.  The temperature is supposed to climb to 60 degrees today and 65 degrees over the weekend.  Perfect for the little daffodils.  And perfect for my state of mind.  Maybe I won't have to take to the bed after all.  At least not this weekend.

I think the daffodils have jumped the gun

My daffodils are ready to pop.  That's encouraging, since I've been wondering if this bitter winter would EVER end.  But it's still cold, and I hope the daffodils aren't just teasing me.  My fragile psyche can't take it.