Its all true, the boogie girl is real, and you've found her. She knits, sews, spins, does pottery and writes it all down in this blog.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Banana Walnut Pancakes
Vegan, Sugar free, Gluten free.
Yes, they're good - see:
They each ate 2. Of course Girl beast had the ones with chocolate chips.
1.5 cups Rice Flour
2 tsp Baking Powder
1 shake of Cinnamon
1 TBs Vegetable oil
1 tsp Vanilla
2 large old Bananas, mushed
.5 cup Pecans, crushed well
1.25 cups of Soy milk (if you want thinner batter, you can add more)
Mix it all up and cook like regular pancakes.
At the request of the big one, I added in Chocolate chips. The ones I have are Malt sweetened so they're not exactly Glutten free but they are good. If you're on a glutten free diet, add in your favorite chocolate chips if you need that little chocolate kick in the morning.
Proof that I do actually get knitting time. It's a sample of a pattern that I made several years ago to go with handspun yarn. I finally redid it in regular handpaint. Superwash too. It's cute. I'm sure to find a baby that needs this soon enough. It was actually so quick to knit, I'm thinking of making some for the premie project (and dowsize it of course) or making some for ronald Mc Donald house.
Finally, I thought this needed to be published. I received this email from fellow crazy Orange crayon loving Mom, PippiKneeSocks. Thank you lady for the Xmas wish list, now I don't have to find the orange crayon to write mine out, I'll send this one to Santa:
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's orange crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years. Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone. On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes,Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container. If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always, MOM...!
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.