Pickled garlic, trampolines and chicken coops

Remember the pickled garlic we made and wondered what we’d do with?  Here it is slivered up on my breakfast wrap.  Both Stan and I were pleasantly surprised by its debut onto our table.  The crunchy bursts of flavour were just about right–they didn’t burn down the throat but carried enough of a punch to make it worthwhile.  I ate two cloves this morning with my wraps and washed it all down with a cup of hot mint tea.  I’m feeling confident the tea will help with my breath.  If it doesn’t, don’t tell me.  Ignorance is bliss… and it means more pickled garlic another morning!

Conclusion from the pickled garlic experiment:  It’s so easy, and tasty, it would be silly not to recommend it.  The only caveat is having enough fridge space to store a few jars.

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Last weekend we gave Susanna an early birthday present: a trampoline.  (I’ll spare you the pre-purchase dialogue between Stan and me.)  In any case, she was delighted with her gift and kept gushing about how our backyard is like an amusement park.

“We’ve got got so much to do now.  There’s the trampoline… and the chicken coop!”  A few minutes later she said it again, tacking the chicken coop right next to the trampoline.

No offense, C and S!

This is a perfect example of the lovely, and possibly vexing (particularly if you’ve invested money), way children’s minds work.  The chicken coop was on its way to the dump when we said we would give it a home, in hopes our town’s bylaws will change in the near future.  It is nothing more than a few crude boards and chicken wire sitting on a patch of grass that gets mowed very infrequently.  And yet, it apparently rivals a brand new trampoline for play-appeal.  Oh, and I almost forgot the box the trampoline came in…

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2 thoughts on “Pickled garlic, trampolines and chicken coops

    • It’s 10 feet, 11 feet, or maybe 12 feet in diameter??
      Anyway, it’s big enough for us all to jump together. We decided not to get the plastic poles and netting to surround it. Stan researched trampoline injuries and found that most of them happen on the tramp–not from falling off. Plus, I grew up with out using the net, and the view is so much nicer. 🙂 We also made a rule that only two bodies could be on the tramp at a time. Friends came over the next day and the rule was promptly broken. Again, I reminded myself my sibs. and I all survived without any rules; they were apt to jump off the house roof onto the trampoline strapped into downhill skis and boots! (Thankfully, we’re not at that point in our household yet.)

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