Dear Diary,
It is Day #9161 and my captives have taken advantage of my unwillingness to leave the house by subjecting me to domestic chores. The one called "husband" left early for "work" as did "oldest child". This left me at the hands of "middle child" and "youngest child" who thought it fitting to drag two dead deer home yesterday and force me and the others to butcher the same. Today was processing day.
While I put a deer roast in the crockpot for supper, washed breakfast dishes and prepared equipment then cut up 14 pounds of meat and crammed it into canning jars, "middle child" and "youngest child" used the meat grinder to make ground meat. Then after some confusion on "middle child's" part, 10 pounds of the ground meat was mixed with spices, flavorings and salt cure. I was forced to start and re-start the pressure canner four times because of, shall we say, user error. A good time was not had by all. By then it was time for lunch and I prepared deer steaks, cream corn (out of a can) and creamed peas. "Middle child" invited Girlfriend 2.0 for lunch, who suspiciously eyeballed the chicken breast in the oven that I had reserved for myself. Deer for two meals in one day is too much for even me. After cleaning the kitchen again of dirty dishes left behind by my captures, I used the devilish contraption called "the jerky gun" which fought me tooth and nail. By this time I wanted to tell "middle child" and "youngest child" that they should process their own deer if they think this hunting thing is so grand, but my royal upbringing and these darn manners kept me from speaking out. I blame my parents for such a noble childhood.
But I digress.
"Middle child" and "youngest child" had left me under the watchful eye of Girlfriend 2.0 as she helped put jerky in the dehydrator. I was to get no rest, for while doing so they were in the attic digging out a large, fake Christmas tree. Once it was assembled, "middle child" and Girlfriend 2.0 decided it was time to go shopping and left me in the hands of "youngest child" until "husband" came home from "work." Once home, "husband" declared that he was hungry, so I prepared Brussels sprouts and stuffing (from a box) as well as gravy to go with the aforementioned roast in the crockpot. Then it was time to - once again - wash the dirty dishes left behind by my captures.
I have sneaked off to my room to write this latest diary entry with my dishpan hands. Who knows what I will be subjected to tomorrow for all my plans for making Christmas goodies this week have been thwarted.
The only sign that Christmas is fast approaching is a sad, naked tree in my living room.
At least we eat well.
