I've done it again. Yesterday, we had been in Salt Lake City and when we came home I got undressed and went right to bed. I slept three hours and then got up at 9:30 to make buttermilk pies--well, cookie sheets full of buttermilk pie. One was for the luncheon after a funeral, today, and one was for the luncheon after the baptism of our grandson, today.
When I got redressed I put my shirt on backwards and inside out. Phil didn't bother to tell me. He likes to play around with my ego. I wore it that way all night. Luckily no one came to our house. How would I have felt, not only being a slob but showing the size of my shirt too, right there for anyone to read?!
Making a cookie sheet full of buttermilk pie is tricky because you blend everything in the blender and let me tell you, it is FULL. I had the first cookie sheet, full of unbaked goo in the oven when I found the melted butter--that was supposed to be in the goo--still in the a pan on the stove. So, I opened the oven and dumped the goo into a bowl, spilling a whole lot of it on the stove door and even on the floor. I added the butter, stirred like crazy and poured it back into the pan.
I guess it worked okay but really. How Einsteinish can you get in one night? My journal entry will read: "Slob, showing shirt size--which is a whole lot of sizes bigger than she wants it to be--dumps pie filling on floor. Floor needed mopping--no one used straw to slurp up goo. Even though some slobby inside-our-shirt wearing person wanted to."
Recipe here.
And...they made buttermilk pie! The recipe is here. They made two so they could take one home. Taylor called tonight to report. It was a success and the girls each had one and a half pieces. I don't blame them. Buttermilk pie is really good. 
After Liza cracked her second egg she told me what eggs really are. I must confess I have been ignorant of the true facts all these years. 
