It's the End of the Blog as I Know It

Here it is -- the last legitimate comment-open post of Ordinary Time.

I know that many of you will not see this until Wednesday, but since I post at night, this one makes it in under the wire. Comments will be open one last time.

Loopholes, they are my friends.

In other Lenten related news, the whole house smells like fried food since we have had a very FAT Tuesday. I basically let the children belly up to the trough and eat whatever they wanted.

In the Pennsylvania Dutch tradition, today is called Fastnacht Day, which I detailed here, and I look forward to these dense little gems every winter. This year, I channeled my inner PA Dutch housewife, and I made my own.

Part of the motivation in making my own fastnachts was the consideration our family Lenten sacrifice.

Every Sunday, we leave Mass and drive over to the local Dunkin' Donuts. Rob and I get coffee, and the kids get donuts for home and bagels for the car. We are not good at waiting, in case you haven't noticed.

As of Wednesday, we are saying goodbye to DD for the duration of Lent and we are putting the money we would have spent on post-Mass goodies towards Operation Rice Bowl. I think it will be harder than the children anticipate, because we have come to dearly love that little family ritual. (Do you think DD is open on Easter Sunday? Forget chocolate bunnies, we need coffee and donuts!)

I tried to get fancy and take pictures of the ingredients and each step of the fastnacht making, but who am I kidding? I had a pot of hot oil on the stove and two kids on my legs. If I had tried to handle my camera at the same time, I would have ended up with a deep fried Nikon.

This is as far as I got with the fancy staging. Never mind all the Crisco -- that's just for the deep frying. And it could be worse. The original recipe calls for straight up lard.

Traditionally, fastnachts are left plain and eaten with molasses or syrup, but these days you can find every variation in local grocery stores. (My favorite are the glazed ones. Yum times infinity.)

I just dusted my fastnachts with a little cinnamon sugar since my kids are not big syrup or glaze fans. Obviously they suffer from a genetic defect of some sort.

My biggest mistake was making little "fastnacht bites." I had popped about five in a row before I realized I should slow up or Fat Tuesday would become Angioplasty Tuesday.

Sally, bless her little Dutchie heart, just walked around shirtless all morning, eating fastnachts straight off of the cooling rack. She's no dummy, that one.

Now everything in the larder has been put away, and I'm feeling the relief of being able to make a fresh start. I'm putting the finishing touches on my ambitious Lenten house cleaning schedule, and it's almost time for radio silence here at the old HomeFront blog.

I'll see you around the web, and I'll hear you at Easter. Happy Lent, my friends.