I don’t know about you, but I LOVE WEEKENDS.  You’ve already heard how I spent my Friday night with a worm-eating boy named Gosling, so let’s cover the rest of the weekend, shall we?

On Saturday morning, I went to a farm.  No, really.

Actually, I’m not sure if it was a farm but I think it was given the fact that there were barns and various animals walking around.  One of my friends, Perry, has decided to go on this whole organic eating kick and thus went to a Mennonite Farmer’s Market about half an hour outside of town.  Even better?  He decided to invite me to come along.

This is the point in the story where I would like to make two observations:

1. I have never spent so much time with the male species in my entire life. I mean, lately I’ve written about Nicholas and Nathan and Clay and Trey and now Perry?  I know what you’re thinking: WHAT’S GOING ON IN EAST TENNESSEE, AMY BETH?  Listen, people, I have no idea. It’s not like any of them are actual potential dating people for me (and even if they were, all joking aside, my heart is still closed to a relationship anyway) but, really, WHERE ARE THESE BOYS COMING FROM?

2. Do you know how weird it is for me to tell y’all about “hanging out” on the weekends?  Like, for the first time in years, I ACTUALLY HAVE A LIFE.  Sure, I had one before Starlite ended but it was mainly work, work, work.  Now it’s work, fun, work, fun AND WHO KNEW LIFE COULD INCLUDE FUN ON THE WEEKENDS?  I was talking to my friend Kelly on the phone this weekend and she said “Can I just tell you how strange it is to hear you say you’re “hanging out” with people?”  You’re telling me, Kelly, you’re telling me.

But back to the Farmer’s Market.  Perry was stocking up on various stuff straight from the Mennonites themselves and there I stood in the midst of various organic fruits and vegetables being sold by men with very unique bowl-shaped haircuts when I decided that HEY, MAYBE I SHOULD BUY SOME STUFF.  AND COOK IT.  FROM SCRATCH.

Listen, I have no idea what in the world would make me think I was capable of cooking something from scratch but hope?  Well, it tends to spring eternal when it comes to me and cooking.

Fast forward to Sunday night, also known as Family Night at my house.  The whole crew was coming over: Gosling, British Boy, Clay (who was joining us late) and Cate and, by goodness, I WAS GONNA HAVE SOME FRESH VEGETABLES ON THE TABLE.

That, my loves, is what fresh green beans (and my darling pink bowl) look like.

And yes, I had to call my grandmother Josie twice in order to get proper instructions for how to cook them.  And yes, upon hearing that I was attempting to cook a full meal for all those people, she ever so gently suggested that I might want to go by my local Kentucky Fried Chicken and just pick up some chicken and sides.

Well, Josie, I hope you’re reading the blog today because your granddaughter is about to MAKE YOU PROUD.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call SUNDAY DINNER.  AND I AM SO PROUD OF THAT PICTURE THAT I MAY JUST HAVE TO TYPE THE REST OF THIS POST IN ALL CAPS.  MAINLY BECAUSE IT’S UNLIKELY WE’LL EVER SEE A PHOTO LIKE THIS ON MY BLOG AGAIN.

Okay, I let go of the caps key.  BUT, REALLY, DID YOU SEE THAT PICTURE JUST NOW?

What you’ve got there is some chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and bread ALL MADE SOLELY BY YOUR VERY OWN AMY BETH AND I CAN’T HELP IT, THE CAPS JUST WANT TO COME OUT FOR THAT DECLARATION.

Now, dinner wasn’t a total success seeing as Gosling and British Boy showed up 37 minutes late therefore causing the food to be cold which caused us to eat it cold because, hey, I haven’t gotten around to buying a microwave yet.  But they ate it anyway and, dare I say it, actually declared it to be good.

After dinner, we engaged in a few recreational activities and by recreational activities I mean Gosling laid down on my kitchen floor and began rolling around with Snuggles y Cuddles.

And Clay and the puppies? Listen, it’s just an absolute love story between those three.  I swear those puppies like Clay better than they like me and I am LIVID about it.

Even Cate gets in on the act when she’s at my house.  Do you know that, for her birthday, I asked her mama if I could buy her a couple of puppies because she loves mine so much?

Her mama said no so, for now, she gets to pretend like mine belong to her when she’s at my house.  And anyway, they love her almost as much as they love Clay and definitely more than they love me which reminds me: ATTENTION SNUGGLES Y CUDDLES, HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHO FEEDS YOU EVERY MORNING AND PUTS YOU IN BED AT NIGHT?

Ahem.  We had dessert, too.

That’s right: I have pink knives. And pink bowls.  And a pink pizza slicer.  And pink measuring cups.  And a pink spatula.

But somehow I get the feeling you’re not surprised given the border of the blog you’re currently reading at this very moment, no?