For the Love of Pumpkin Bread

So, I think I've mentioned that I love fall a few times here, but there's something I forgot to include in my list of things I love about this season. And that is, (imaginary drumroll, please) the glorious pumpkin. Every fall, I can't wait to figure out the loads of ways I can fit pumpkin into my life. I know I've already shared my affection for pumpkin spice lattes, but the world of pumpkin includes so much more than a mere latte. For starters, there's pumpkin pie, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin cookies (with chocolate chips, obviously), and then there's my favorite pumpkin-laden food, The Pumpkin Bread.

In honor of my love of pumpkin and my love of people who read this blog, I'd like to share the recipe I'm currently using (thank you, Allrecipes.com) with you and highly encourage you to make this as soon as you are physically able. Once you make it (if you start now, you'll be eating it an hour from this moment), you should probably slip into your favorite wool cardigan, turn the air-conditioning way down (so that it feels like fall inside, obviously), warm your hands around a mug of tea and then take a big, bite of warm, aromatic, delectable pumpkin bread. And then you should call me and we'll talk about how much we love fall.

Ok, now that you know what the next couple hours of your life include, here's the recipe for pumpkin nirvana, I mean, bread...


Ingredients:
* 1 cup butter or margarine, softened
* 3 cups sugar
* 3 eggs
* 3 cups all-purpose flour
* 1 tablespoon baking powder
* 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
* 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
* 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cloves
* 1 1/2 teaspoons ground nutmeg
* 1 (16 ounce) can solid pack pumpkin


Directions:
1. In a mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs; mix well. Combine dry ingredients; stir into creamed mixture just until moistened. Stir in pumpkin. Pour into two greased 9-in. x 5-in. x 3-in. loaf pans. Bake at 350 degrees F for 1 hour or until bread tests done.

You can thank me later.

Late Night Auto Insurance

Last Night:
1:15am
The scene: Sam wakes up crying in the nursery down the hall.

1:16am
The scene: Sam's parents wake up to the sound of Sam yelling.

Dara Lynn: Matt, can you go check on Sam?
Matt: (slightly slurred) Yeah. (pause) Who's he with?
Dara Lynn: (quickly recognizing this is somehow related to Matt's job in insurance) He's with State Farm.
Matt: (skeptical) How do you know that?
Dara Lynn: (trying not to shake the bed from laughing) Because he told me.
Matt: (pause) No, he didn't. Wait, are you talking about Sam or the other guy?
Dara Lynn: Other guy? (laughing now and shaking the bed)
Matt: (getting up and stumbling towards the door.) Hmph.

I had no idea that an additional benefit to marriage would be the unexpected entertainment of sleep-talking. A few weeks ago we had a very similar conversation about insurance that included Matt turning to me at 3am and very seriously asking if I was looking for liability or full-coverage. It doesn't get much better than late-night pillow talk about auto insurance.

We've also had a couple of sleep-talking instances that were less entertaining, however. One actually wasn't a conversation, but included Matt acting out a dream he was having that involved his slapping an imaginary horsefly on my forehead. I woke up with fireworks behind my eyes and Matt's palm flat against my face. I yelled loudly. The explanation? He was dream-canoeing and had seen a big horsefly and literally told himself (in his dream, mind you) to hit it as hard as he could. And so he did. On my face. At 2am. It was funny later.

There was also the night when Matt turned over and put his arm around me and said "So, where are you from?" in his most charming voice. I rolled over and said "What?" in my less charming voice. Then he woke up a bit and said that he'd been dreaming he was at a wedding and found himself hanging out with a bridesmaid that he knew wasn't me (much to his surprise, obviously). So, he tried to play it cool and pretend like he knew what was going on, while fishing for information about who the heck she was. I was less amused by this dream. I wanted to punch that imaginary bridesmaid in the face. Or maybe slap an imaginary horsefly on her forehead.

I'm eagerly awaiting the next round of sleep-talking entertainment. I have a sneaking suspicion it may involve homeowners insurance, or maybe even renters. I'm just hoping no more horseflies or hussy bridesmaids. I'll keep you posted.