Sometimes, the silliest things make me happy and proud of myself.
Far and away, my most important super-power is shopping. I don’t mean that I can spend money with the best of them. No, I mean that I can find the perfect gift for anyone, and I can find it at phenomenally low prices. I knit like a fiend, and I’m damn good at it. As well, I’m learning to spin, and I can get pretty damn good singles. I’m also learning how to cook, and I’m learning how to make foods work better for our diet.
Tonight, though, I made butter. Yes, much like the argument Muggles use when I tell them I’m knitting socks, I know, I can get butter at [insert grocery store here] for blah dollars and not have to worry about making it. So very missing the point, darling. I took a quart jar, poured in a pint of heavy cream, screwed the lid on, turned on Castle, and started shaking. By the end of it, I still had what looked like some sort of goo. So I started up Body of Proof. Fifteen minutes into it, I looked at my jar. There was starting to be clear spots in the glass. I watched it while I shook it. All of a sudden, *POOF*! SOLID STUFF AND BUTTERMILK! Holy SHIT, I made BUTTER! I was skeptical, but by the Blessed Saint Elsie (the cow from the Borden logo — whose husband, incidentally is Elmer the Bull, from the GLUE FACTORY! SICK MOFOS!), I HAVE MADE BUTTER! I feel all Tom Hanks in Cast Away.
Yes, I also know that people have been making their own dairy products for millenia. However, this is the first time that I did it. By myself. I feel like the Amish have been hiding their little folk magics away from us on purpose. Just mark this up as one more thing on my Skills List for the Zombie-Pocalypse.