the jumping off place

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-23T17:08:00.000-08:00

Without getting too long and drawn out, I shall say that my blogging absence has been both for lack of time and lack of sometimes knowing what to say. In the last month, I've struggled with a sudden health issue that was picked up on in routine bloodwork. After a week fraught with tests and scans and worry, and being taken off several medications, I am settling back down. It's amazing what medications can do to you and I tend toward the side of having most, if not all, of the 'less common' side effects.

I am eternally grateful for the love and support of my friends when these things come up and I am blessed beyond measure to be feeling much, much better.

I am perplexed that is it hot enough here that on this 23 day of December we have turned on the air conditioner in the house. Sleeping at night with the windows open... It's very hard to get in the mood to decorate or bake cookies while wearing a tank top and shorts.

As we prepare to attend Christmas Eve Holy Communion services, I look forward to having my children all together for the blessing that comes from the sacrament. There is nothing that touches my heart more than seeing them kneel at an altar. They bless the mother heart of me in ways that can not be put into words.

This is the time of year that I always thank God for the life that he's given me another year of, and for the blessing of family to love, and friends to hold dear and the deep and abiding faith that is mine. Celebrating the birth of Christ gives me a renewed spirit to see me through the next year, no matter what challenges I may face and what new blessings abound.

I wish you, my friends, a Holy holiday in every respect, a Merry Christmas, with family and friends and the sweetness of many blessings and a blessed life in the new year to come.

Let the games begin!

2011-11-19T15:09:00.000-08:00

On the way to Thanksgiving day, there's a lot of things that happen in advance.

One of those things is making bread.
I like to use cornbread and day old french bread in my dressing (loaf bread or day old biscuits work too).
So today, I baked a round of french baguettes.

Now, I know better than to think that there will be any left for dressing, but that is why I started today.
Two days, consecutively, making 4 baguettes each time, and I'll surely have a few little hunks tossed into the fridge by Wednesday.

This is the recipe I use. Easy and not much trouble, as far as homemade breads go, it's nice and hard on the outside and wonderfully chewy on the inside. This is not a traditional French bread recipe that begins with a poolish and takes several days. This is simplified, get it done today version that works well for me.

French Bread

Makes 1 boule, 2 batards, 4 baguettes or 8 petite pains

2 1/2 teaspoons of active dry yeast
1 teaspoon of sugar
2/3 cup of warm water (I use hot tap water)
4 cups of flour (I use a combination of bread flour, semolina and white wheat, heavily loaded toward bread)
1 cup of cool water
1 1/2 teaspoons of salt

In a large bowl, pour the warm water over the yeast and sugar. Stir it and let it sit about 10 minutes. It should become foamy and bubbly.

Alternating a cup full of the flour mixture and the cool water, make additions while stirring. Keep adding until you get a dough ball formed which is soft and elastic. Adjust water and flour to gain the proper 'feel' of elasticity. When you get a good texture, knead this dough for 8 to 10 minutes.

Oil the dough on all sides, lightly, and set it to rise in a large container until it triples in size. This should take between 1 and 2 hours, depending on temperature and humidity.

Turn the dough out on a floured surface. Divide the dough equally. ( I eyeball it, it's bread, for goodness sakes, not rocket science!) Make which ever shape your little heart desires. We love baguettes and the four of them look like so much 'more' bread than one large round boule. I also don't get crazy forming baguettes (which explains a lot about how they look). I grab a ball of dough, and 'playdough' roll it to form a long skinny 'stick', then stretch the stick to the length desired. You see in the photo above, that I got 4 different lengths (even if you discount the one with a small hunk missing).

I bake the french bread on a baking sheet, with a silicone baking mat, onto which I toss a tablespoon or so of cornmeal. Lay your bread (which ever shape) on the mat, and cover it. Let it rise again, between 1 and 2 hours, till it more than doubles in size.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. You can brush the bread with an egg glaze (one egg white, one Tablespoon of water, whisked thoroughly) or not. I didn't. I kind of prefer it with a brushing of butter when it comes out of the oven. Either way, I get a nice crispy crust.

You also need to take a nice sharp razor blade or knife (note in the photos that I need to get a new razor blade, as mine is getting dull and drags through the dough) and cut diagonal slices in the bread at intervals. This allows for oven rise and keeps the bread from becoming misshapen while baking.

For one round boule, you bake it about 35 minutes.
For batards, and baguettes, about 22 minutes.
For buns, about 18 to 20 minutes.
When done, the bread, when tapped, should sound hollow.

French bread is best eaten the day that it's cooked.
This is never a problem here.
If I do happen to bake it on a day when everyone suddenly develops dinner plans elsewhere, I simply a baguette or two to the neighbors.
This makes for happy neighbors and less enticement every time I walk back through the kitchen.

Printable version of the recipe: French Bread

Frosty morning wake up call

2011-11-12T16:41:00.000-08:00

First this disclaimer. If you are not inclined toward harvest of wild game, then this post is not for you.
Move along and come back another day.
It's part of what we do here... what surely has been done since the Native Americans lived on the banks of the river and every generation since. Venison is a part of our diet. We know where it comes from. It is hunted for that purpose. None of it goes to waste.

This morning, about 6 am, I was sitting in my chair having my morning cup of coffee, warm pup at my feet.
As usual, the house was quiet, the tv news was on, but nothing was really stirring around.
The oldest boy* was in the woods hunting, like many mornings this time of year.

* The oldest boy is a grown man, in every respect. Definitely not a child, but he is my boy, a child of my heart, my first son. He'll always be my 'boy'. For the rest of this story, he'll be referred to as my boy.

A solid hard frost was still lingering after our first good freeze.

Suddenly, my cell phone rang.

What did we do in the world before cell phones?
I do remember those days, but will admit to 'needing' my connections through that phone.

Anyway, I answer and it's my boy. He's hit a doe, she went down and then got up and ran. He'll wait a few minutes then track her. In just a few minutes, I get the call that she is maybe in the gully.

Now, for the uninitiated, let me explain the gully. In the early part of the last century, this property was farmed in cotton. Not a big plantation, mind you... but the kind of cotton you'd grow and harvest with your family members, to sell and pay for the very few things that you didn't raise or grow yourself. Horticulture wasn't then what it is now. Very few soil amendments went into the large fields and the topsoil and ecology of the land suffered. Rains came and erosion began and huge, gigantic gullies,,, great chasms of dense red soil, deep enough to sit a large house in... grew. And they grew all over the south... not just on this place. With many years of consistent hard work, we have managed to stop the erosion and now the steep hillsides began to grow pines and brush.

So, we have a deep, steep brush and pine filled gully. The perfect place for a deer to hide.
The boy knew that he'd delivered a kill shot... so we have to find the deer.

So I ask, "Shall I bring the dog?" Here I am referring to the soft warm pup at my feet, not quite a year old, one week out of surgery to spay her, but very smart, very trainable and very willing to do work.
I put on my bathrobe... my purple polarfleece bathrobe. and some tennis shoes. Otherwise, I'm wearing my pajamas.
I leash up the pup and we head off to the site of the initial hit.
My boy meets us. Flushed with warmth, he looks like an advertisement for country living.
Tall and striking, gun slung over his shoulder, he points to where we need to start the trail.
The pup takes the hint and nose down, starts to track.

I hand over the leash... thinking that I'm going back in to finish my coffee.

There's a fire in the fireplace, all cozy and warm.
I want to sit beside it.

And for about 15 seconds, things are fine. She's tracking off in the right direction......
... then I turn to leave.

And she looks back.

And then she sits down and refuses to budge.

She begins to whine and fuss and try to run to me.

NOOOOooooooo.... I think.... No. No. No.
I do not want to take a hike about the back 90 acres... I do NOT.

And there they stand... beautiful boy... beautiful dog... beautiful frosty, clear, clear cold field, dense, thick woods...
... deer down somewhere in the woods close by that needs to be prepped and on the way to the freezer.

Sigh...

So, looking very much like someone's mother in a purple bathrobe, I join the search party.
Through brambles and bushes, up hill and down vale, we track.

At some point, I realize that she's tracking where the boy has gone looking for the deer.

We go back to the last point on the tracking trail where there was blood, and give her her nose...
and were suddenly off in a new direction. Less than 20 feet away, we found the deer.
In a very short time, the doe was off to the processor and the very excited puppy and I were sitting by the fire...

... thinking how invigorating that it was to start the day, in the freezing cold, hiking about the place...

                                               ... picking out the thorns and twigs.

River adventure

2011-11-08T16:22:00.000-08:00

I have lived on the river for the majority of my life.
I learned to swim in it.
I have fished in it.
I have canoed and kayaked upon it.
I have played in it.
I have put my children in it from their infant days.
I have slept beside it and I have sat and contemplated life from it's banks.

It is, for me, peace and tranquility and a centering force. When all the world around me is nuts,
the river is there , yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Several months ago, I attended a class to learn how to monitor streams and rivers for quality of the environment.
I recently got my 'kit' for water testing from a 'friends of the river' group. Kits were paid for by grant money and were instrumental in many of us being able to volunteer our time to begin to record and monitor on a regular basis.

The requirement is to routinely and regularly test the water according to the specifications of the Izaak Walton League of America Save our Streams Quality Survey. Using standard scientific method, you sample several different areas (the same area each quarter) and do a count of macroinvertebrates. Having records over time may be invaluable if and when changes occur or the river economy is threatened.

Macroinvertebrates are sorted into Taxa Groups and the water quality is rated depending upon the quantity and variety of 'little critters'. Group One organisms are not tolerant of pollution and their presence generally signified good water qualities. Group Two organisms can exist in a wide variety of water quality conditions and Group Three organisms are tolerant of pollution thereby signifying by their presence that the water quality is poor.

Group One macroinvertebrates were largely what was found in the class that I took, roughly 1/2 mile downstream from my own property river edge. We found only a few individuals from Group 2 and no individuals from Group 3.

The last Sunday of October, I talked my main sidekick on the weekends into accompanying me to the river to do my first official volunteer testing. He volunteered to drive me and while interested, at first was sort of "'ho-hum' what are you up to now?"

First and foremost, I learned that it was VERY cold for October to go barefoot into the river.

It was achingly cold... and there's really no way around it, unless I had the forethought to have brought some waders with me. (Bet your bottom dollar that I'll do that in January!)

So, I start the sampling and right away, I get a number of very lively specimens.

Now, we aren't exactly going after the tiny fish, but this one was in the net. All counted creatures were released unharmed back to their home location after the count.

And there were numerous macroinvertebrates so small that I had to use the magnifying glass AND my reading glasses.

A take away tidbit is that if you find snails, you can easily determine if they're indicators of clean water, or poor quality. By holding the snail oriented up and down, if the operculum opens 'right facing', then it is a 'clean water' indicator.

A bit of an amusing observation is that as the organisms were sorted into the trays as they sat in the sunshine, and the water became warmer than the temperature of the river, they became much more active.

Overall, I was happy to determine that my little stretch of the river had excellent indications of being healthy and clean. Wetland conservation and sustainability is important now and for our future.

And by the time I was done, I had not only a willing participant sidekick, but an excited one who wants to see how the future surveys go. I had also determined that 4 hands were necessary and 6 would have been ideal!

Renewed intentions

2011-11-02T06:48:00.000-07:00

So, I intend to get back to visiting with you regularly.

I've actually intended before but so many things have taken the spotlight.

Seasonal employment has come and gone. When added to the heat and humidity of summer, it zapped my desire to do anything more than really necessary and not even all of the necessary things.

I find myself headed into the holiday season with a serious backlog of household chores and an intense desire to sit on the porch rocker and watch the leaves turn their beautiful autumnal tones...
... and to pick up the pecans before the squirrels get to them...

... or to lunch with friends whom I have missed during all of this.

The knitting group at church goes on, and really merits a post of it's own. It's a small group ministry and it's become so very meaningful to me, and I believe, to others. We have taught beginners and brought together experienced knitters and crocheters of all ages to make items with our hands to bless others. And on the way, we've discovered the blessings that always abound when folks of like-spirits get together and share their lives regularly. You find yourself thinking of them on other days and other times, and praying for the concerns of their hearts and lives.

I love the cooler, crisp mornings, but kind of miss the longer daylight hours of summer.
I enjoy planning a holiday meal and look forward to a time when kith and kin draw near.

New Fall Bread Recipe

2011-10-05T10:18:00.000-07:00

One day this last week, I bought some Bob's Red Mill 5 grain rolled cereal.

I love really hearty grain mixtures. This one is a blend of coarsely rolled whole wheat, rye, oats, flax seed, barley, and triticale.

I love these sorts of grains even more in the fall, just as the weather turns, which makes something instinctual in me want to bake bread.

I've been counting calories and attempting to behave, so have been making far less bread products.
With only two of us home most days, I really can't rationalize baking multiple loaves of bread, or multiple times a week.

In an effort to find a recipe for bread that worked with the cereal blend in the 5 grain cereal, I went to the website for Bob's Red Mill and spent a happy hour reading recipes. Then, I printed off a recipe entitled 'Freckles and Warts' and proceeded to alter/change/exchange ingredients until I had what I now consider a perfect fall afternoon bread, that also makes perfect fall morning toast, and with which I will make a positively yummy bread pudding or some fall morning french toast, depending on which way the wind blows this afternoon!

The bread is a mid density bread, with a barely sweet flavor and a pleasant chewy texture. It has remained soft for several days and is so very fragrant.

This is a remarkably poor photo of the bread, but it does give you an idea of texture.

This is MY version of the recipe!

And I'm not a fan of the descriptive name 'Freckles and Warts', so I'm going to be every so creative and call it 5 grain cereal bread!

Five Grain Cereal Bread

1 1/3 cup of warm water (I used it right from the tap)
2 1/2 teaspoons active dried yeast
1 cup of Bob's Red Mill 5 grain rolled cereal
1/2 cup orange juice
4 Tablespoons of demerara sugar
2 tablespoons of olive oil
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon of cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg
pinch of cloves
1/2 teaspoon of ginger (all spices are ground spices and I didn't actually measure... I'm a spice tosser!)
2 1/2 cups bread flour
3 tablespoons of buttermilk
1/2 cup of dried, sweetened cranberries

In a large bowl, pour the hot water, the juice (at room temp), the buttermilk and the oil over the 5 grain cereal. Add the yeast and the sugar. Let it sit about 15 minutes for the yeast to begin working and the grains to soften.
Add all other ingredients and stir until it comes to a ball of dough. I needed to add a couple more handfuls of flour. Amount of flour always depends on moisture in the flour and in the environment, and practice teaches you what good bread dough 'feels' like.

I kneaded in the large bowl for four or five minutes, then tossed in the cranberries and kneaded till they were mixed into the dough. I greased it lightly with a little olive oil and let it rise for about an hour, or until doubled.

I then shaped it into a loaf and put in a well greased glass loaf dish (because I couldn't find my best metal one)
and covered it to rise, until it was a good inch over the top of the loaf dish.

Bake at 325 degrees for 35 minutes and check it for doneness. Mine was done to utter perfection.
Had I found the metal pan (which has a shape that I prefer) I'd have cooked it at 350 degrees and checked it at about 32 minutes.

Here's the printable recipe: 5 cereal bread

Oh, my...

2011-09-30T06:59:00.000-07:00

I have really fallen down on my blog... and I promise to do better.

This has been more of a challenging summer and early autumn than I've had in a while.

So much heat, so many changes...

First and foremost, let me whine... (yes,,, I am going to whine).

I'm a bit more than 5 months into the Tamoxifen regimen, which is a preventative for breast cancer in my case, and I'm still struggling with the side effects of the drugs.
The struggle has been far greater than I had imagined.

With that being said, I have seen the doctor several times and I'm not willing to go off of the drug, which greatly reduces future chances of cancer. In the weighing and balancing of things, dealing with the side effects of tamoxifen is preferred to dealing with the side effects of surgery, chemo and radiation that I've watched a number of friends and family endure. Its' not a promise or a certainty... this tamoxifen regiment, but it's a pretty good shot ... and so I continue on the drug. Pretty much the only issue is some serious hot flashes... hot flashes on drugs if you will, which are far more manageable during the day, than at night. I've always been a person who needs their sleep, I LIKE to turn in early and I love to rise early for the day. Lack of undisturbed sleep has been a serious issue this summer.

I struggle onward with this issue.

Ok... that's enough whining.

Uhm... maybe not....

I've been temporarily back at work... such is the life of the part time folks of state parks. State parks in every state, and national parks as well have suffered tremendously in the economic melee that has been our lot these last years. Having found something that I absolutely adore doing, and knowing what it takes to run a park while short staffed, and having much respect and admiration for the dedicated few who persevere when it would be so much easier to look elsewhere, I am again facing the time of 'job not funded.'...

It's not that I can't find things to do... I can... It's that's where I want to be... where my heart is...
and it's tough, tough, tough to not just get up and go.

Somedays,,, a lot of days,,, you simply don't get what you want.

Ok, so NOW, maybe I'm done whining...

Okay... so maybe not...

The heat this summer really laid waste to the garden. We had some vegetables, but everything burned up supper early, even given the best efforts that we could manage. As folks on a country well, we are not able to run water day and night to the garden, and so the garden is effected by serious drought and weeks of 90 to 100 degree temperatures do not make it easier. I miss the gardens of better days... miss the leisurely stroll to pick 'supper' from the rows, in the late summer sun, miss being able to can and preserve for the winter and miss being able to share the bounty.

We are rethinking the garden... considering raised beds, which will be easier, I think, as we age.
Rethinking what to grow.
I've evolved to a more 'year round' garden perspective, rather than canning and preserving so much as I used to do, but instead, eating more in season,with what will grow at the time. I'm liking that approach... it's working with the fewer mouths that I have to feed.

This summer we ran an experiment. We did not purchase any plants, but started everything from seed.
I started at least a dozen types of heirloom tomatoes and also that many types of peppers from seed.
Some of the tomatoes were amazing... with the heirlooms faring much better with the heat and drought than the 'standards' that are sold in town. The heirloom seeds were pricey, but I have saved enough for next year, making it a more cost effective process... certainly more effective than purchasing the plants at $3/plant.

The pepper experiment was a resounding failure... planted too late, they didn't survive transplant, leaving us with a deficit of peppers, which add much to our diet. Will try that one again next year, but also be prepared to purchase some, if again faced with failure in the pepper department.

The other experiment was to purchase cheap seeds... at discount places, for things like squash and beans.
I'd really not consider it a success either... Perhaps, I'm snooty where seeds are concerned.

The cheap seeds did come up, but did not produce true to what they were supposed to be, in some cases. The beans did not produce nearly as well as our previous 'high end' seed, nor did they hold up to the difficult weather circumstances.

The only area that did produce beautifully from cheap seeds were the lettuces... Amazing turnout from packages of seeds that costs ten cents. Variety was nice, though not as much as from a pack of seed that costs $5, but for the price difference, fresh, beautiful lettuces were an acceptable 'cost cutting' measure.

Ok, so that's about all the whining I can take for today...

I promise to return with a better attitude, promptly!

Laughter in the night.

2011-08-27T06:31:00.000-07:00

I've not said a lot about this latest venture of taking the last child off to college.

Largely, because it's sort of side swiped me and I'm not sure what to say... most days.

Perhaps we'll discuss that a different day.

But the experience has gone to prove that old adage that every child is different than it's siblings and hence you must react differently as a parent.

Now, this is not to say that things aren't going well... they are, but one of the differences is that he's been home both weekends that have comprised his college career so far.

Last night, quite late, he came grinning through the door... and regaled us with tales of the week and all that entails.

And then, really quite late, from my bed, I could hear the laughter of two brothers... one of whom just graduated from the same institution and one, who's career there has just started.

Low, adult male voices, serious by turns and then the laughter... until the early hours,,, when I drifted off to sleep.

Oh, preciousness ... this sibling love.

2011-08-21T15:50:00.000-07:00

Regardless of how busy I find myself, I've nearly always got my camera in my pocket.

While uploading the photos, I realized that the photos were sort of an essay in and off themselves.

I made myself a birthday apple pie... cute.. huh?

Young 'jakes' in the early morning, out for a stroll.

A celebration to honor those who fought and those who died in the American Revolution.

A frequent reminder that people still die for our freedom today...

And I caught my favorite fellow, rocking and reading on a Saturday afternoon...

August

2011-08-15T18:47:00.000-07:00

So, here I sit on the eve of my fifty-first birthday...

taken quite by storm of having the last child leave home this week for college...

I will admit to the house being much too quiet, just now. But we'll adjust, as we always do.

Physically, I am rather very tired of the extreme heat of the summer and looking forward to a few things.

... the fall garden, which begins to be my 'favorite' gardening season, while there's still warmth and sunshine to get things growing to carry into the late fall and after the crisp toastiness of the summer has worn off.

Gardening is so very different now than just a few years ago... we practice a 'graze' style harvest...

Instead of picking huge bushels and baskets and canning and freezing, I find myself living more seasonally. I head to the garden and pick 6 collard leaves and 3 tomatoes and a single squash and make a pasta sauce... just enough for a meal. A hand full of peppers, a small onion and a zucchini, tossed in with a chicken breast and some white wine or lemon juice also make a nice pasta sauce. A hand full of basil or two twigs of rosemary... two fresh hen eggs and a ripe tomato.

I've had to force myself to work on knitting projects for a knitting class of very special women at my church. I love teaching others to knit, but simply haven't wanted to knit anything at all in the heat. I look forward to cooler weather when sitting and knitting 'feels' right and the race gets on to make some new caps in advance of winter's chill.

I realized that it's been weeks since I sat on the porch... so long, in fact, that when I sat in the rocker over the weekend, it was 'dusty' and dirty from lack of use. So it's time to dust off the rockers on the porch and rock a spell.

I look forward to planning Thanksgiving and seeing friends and loved ones gather in for what can only be described as a very rambunctious affair. It's a highlight for me, and I very much look forward to it.

Current tomatoes

2011-07-31T18:02:00.000-07:00

This summer, we've run an experiment with growing everything from seed. And because of issues with our previous seed company, we decided to take a two pronged approach.

We ordered heirloom seed from a couple of different companies and we tried some 'cheap' seed from places like Dollar General and Walmart.

I'm sure I'll sit down, after the summer is done and size up what I think about the different approach. I will say that this summer has been far less expensive from a standpoint of the garden input and while there's been serious heat, which has taken it's toll, I've been impressed with a few of these plants.

By far, the favorite fun new little tomato is the 'current' tomato.

You can see it's size compared to a penny. The little tomatoes are not only quite tiny, but they're absolutely packed with the most delicious flavor I've ever eaten in tomato form. Their texture is different than other small tomatoes as well and is quite firm. When you bite into the current tomato, they absolutely explode with flavor.
For the first week that any were ripening, we had a terrible time getting any into the house, but instead , stood and snacked on them in the garden, still warm from the sun.

They're very good in salads and in sauces and make the very best fresh out of hand snacks.
The tiny tomato comes from a delicate but rangy plant that has borne up well under the vicious sun and heat indexes of more than 100 degrees F for several weeks now.

The tiny current tomato will join our garden plan for years to come as it's proven itself for us this year.
Edited to add. These seed came from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. Their website is www.rareseeds.com.

On becoming a mother

2011-07-27T06:14:00.000-07:00

So I've been spending a lot of time awake at night, which is a bit unusual for me.

And I'll admit that a lot of that time is spent trying to refocus from the things that worry me, to regroup in the deep abiding trust that makes it easy to sleep deeply and soundly.

But last night, as I lay there and thought, I thought about the fact that today marks the day that, twenty six years ago, I became a mother. We, as a couple, became parents.

While there are lots of moments that define a couple and a person, becoming a mother singularly meant more to me than any other of my life.

No long exclamations about the daughter who brought this to my life... simply to say that having her in my life was then and what still today makes the sun shine on each new day for me. To hear her voice, to put my arms around her reminds me that my life is blessed beyond compare.

What I remember about that day were a couple of things...

The morning of her birth I picked green beans. Truly, hugely pregnant, I did the squat and pick, heave my heavy belly up and squat and pick and repeat so forth on down the long rows of beans. That morning, like today, was blistering hot. So, the very last thing that we did together, as a pair, before her birth, was garden.

And then, I remember her eyes... at birth, even while still attached to her umbilical cord, she was perfectly silent, but her eyes were so huge and so expressive. At the moment of birth, she looked so very deeply at her father and then at me, as if to say "I'm here to change your life"...

and so she did.

An hour...

2011-07-14T05:57:00.000-07:00

This morning, I found an hour...

What happened was this... instead of my normal 5 am wakeup cold dog nose to my sleeping hand, Stormy slept until 6.

And when I did awake to her smiling face, doggy breath, I realized that for the first night in a while, I'd slept soundly and peacefully... awake and fresh for the morning.

So, instead of going back to bed and passing out until 7 something, when I'd need to rush to get the animals cared for before leaving for work...

... I found an hour.

An hour... for a brief, day brightening devotion...

... for a egg, fried in olive oil and a sliced tomato on a piece of toast...

...kitten snuggling, chicken feeding, garden plundering...

...bird watching, dog romping, porch sitting...

The extra hour gave me time to breathe, to choose to take a moment

to think.

I realize that I've been complaining about the heat... and the 'busy - ness',,,
and not looking near enough for the beauty in it all.

Oh, my... so good.

2011-07-07T16:16:00.000-07:00

One flour tortilla...

One peach, diced...

...sprinkled with a little sugar...

...maybe cinnamon, if you like.

Fold the tortilla in half, chock full of peaches.

One teaspoon of butter in a little black iron skillet.

Flip it a couple of times, till it browns...

A peach sort of quesadilla, but without the cheese.

Updates and such...

2011-07-05T18:34:00.000-07:00

No... we have not fallen off the face of the earth!

We've been adjusting to:

having TWO boys rambling around the place, again....

and a return, albeit temporarily, to work at the State Park...

...and a garden growing beautifully.

... a kitchen full of fruits and veggies...

...excessive heat...

... emergency eldercare... my mother in law broke her hip and needed a partial hip implant...

The days have been too short to get it all done.

Though there have been greater than average challenges this month, Tommy and I have managed to escape not once, but twice on lovely, day-long 'dates' that left us refreshed and sneaking in at midnight giggling like teenagers. I'd forgotten the simple pleasure of spending time away from the cares of the day to day things in helping to counterbalance the 'heavier' things in life.

I promise that I'll catch you up on things...

promise!

The recipe for the best batter.

2011-05-29T17:46:00.000-07:00

Right now, I'll go ahead and tell you that I KNOW that this is not the healthiest recipe that I'll ever share.

And it ranks right up there with strange things that work out very well.... recipes that you look at and say "what?!!!".

You know how sometimes you need a batter for things that you want to fry?

Like those first tender, sweet squash, or stuffed squash blossoms, or green tomatoes or okra or onion rings...
I could go on.

This recipe makes onion rings that I promise you, are unrivaled.

And it doesn't require any special tricks or equipment.

It does require that you do NOT taste one as you're cooking,,, unless you're home alone and you expect to eat dinner while standing at the stove. They're addictive and quite, quite yummy. If that IS the plan for dinner, then go ahead... knock yourself out... you have my permission.

When I make onion rings, as I did this evening, I peel and slice up a couple of large white onions. Separate them into rings. Get some oil screaming hot! Toss the onions into the batter. Use a fork to grab one and toss it into the oil. Very quickly, it should sizzle and 'float' to the top. Flip it once and let it turn a nice golden brown, then take it out to drain on a paper towel.

I don't have a deep fryer... I simply put a cup and a half or so of cooking oil into a saucepan. I don't fry food often enough to use a deep fryer, and when I did have one, it required an awful lot of oil, that I had to store and reuse, and it made such a mess. Better a saucepan and an occasional 'frying' event.

On to the recipe:

Batter for Frying

3/4 cup of plain flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt (depending on what's being fried, I might make this 1/2 teaspoon of salt)
2 Tablespoons of corn starch
3/4 cup of water

Whisk all ingredients together. Will make a very watery batter. So watery and thin, in fact, it will not look like it's going to work,,, but go ahead and do it anyway... you'll see! Dip your veggies, which have previously been prepared, into the batter, let the excess drip off and put it in the hot oil. It should pop up off the bottom and start to float pretty quickly. Turn the battered veggie and let it cook until it's a beautiful golden brown.

Drain on paper towels. Try HARD not to eat one... really hard... and try to keep the boys/girls/spouses from starting in on the goodies before you get them on the table, because otherwise, you're gonna need to go cut up some more veggies and mix up some more batter....

... ask me how I know.

Graduation

2011-05-28T18:34:00.000-07:00

So, the youngest one graduated from high school.... and except for the moment when his sister mentioned that this was the first time in 12 years that there wasn't one of my children playing "Pomp and Circumstance" in the band ensemble, I kept my chin up.

Luckily, there was a malfunction of the equipment that would have played the DVD of photos of all the graduates set to the sort of music that makes mothers dissolve into helpless puddles all over the gym.
So, I escaped having to snort and sniffle my way through the last hour or so of the ceremony.

I've been a mom for a long, long time...25 years, to be exact, and I'll tell you, nothing feels quite as right as
realizing that the kids are going to be ok in life, regardless. Ten years ago, I was critically ill and there were days that it did not seem that I might see this day. For this day, I am grateful.

Solid education, multiples of diplomas and degrees represents several things. It does represent the fact that their father and I have consistently demanded a high standard of achievement. As a parent, I do believe that you have to require their best. But more than anything, it represents kids who have been sturdy and capable in doing what was required of them, by their parents and their teachers, professors and mentors consistently and constantly for years. It represent their understanding that hard work, day in and day out, pays off. It represents that from the oldest to the youngest was a steady stream of excellent examples and support of each other... they've been each other's best cheerleaders. It represents that they have been blessed with bright minds and healthy bodies and solid character to do the job at hand.

It represents a beginning...the taking in hand of all that they've learned and setting forth on life's journey, better prepared and ready and willing to work hard and undertake the tasks that they'll come up against in life.

For these young adults,,, my children,,, I have prayed every day, every single morning and night of their time on the planet, for their lives to be as God would plan. I have prayed that their educational road will serve them in the lives that they are meant to lead. I expect them to use their knowledge and their skills to the best of their abilities and I pray for them to have family and friends who love them and support them on their journeys, not just on the happy days, but when the days are long and hard and when the struggles come, as they certainly do. I pray that they always have each other to stand beside, shoulder to shoulder, arms around each other, love and support that only siblings can know. I hope and pray that their closeness as siblings, continues through their lives of work and busy-ness.

I pray that their world of work and their spiritual journey are not far from each other, so that they may serve God and mankind as they were made to do.

I pray that I live to see their lives unfold and that they know how much their mother loves them every single day of the rest of their lives.

How not to be bored

2011-05-25T17:51:00.000-07:00

Last year, about this time, I realized that more than half the teenagers that I know were spending a LOT of time posting on Facebook about how bored they were.

Now early on, as a parent, one of my pet peeves was the whiney intonation "I'mmmmm bored!!!!"

I made my children the ultimatum that if I were to so much as hear the B word (bored) that I'd be arranging for them to do the very many things that I could think of that needed doing.

And as they are smart children, it did not take very many times for them to 1. learn to entertain themselves better and 2. develop a widely ranging vocabulary of words that were synonyms for 'bored'.

Anyway, last year, I wrote out the following and issued it as a challenge to the group of kids that I love most in the world. I'm sharing it here, because we're right at the cusp of summer, when so many parents will begin to hear those fateful words... I'm so bored...

Share the list... and share with me the amazing things that happen when you employ the list...

Things to do to prevent boredom

I am discovering, thanks to FaceBook that lots and lots of teenagers haven't been given the dictate that is in force at the Weaver household... "If you use the word 'bored', even a single time, I will FIND something for you to do!"

Here you go, kiddo's... and I don't want to hear anymore about being bored!

1. Take your UNhappy little hinney outside for a walk, a run, a bike ride.
If THAT bores you, then pick up a broom, a rake, a shovel and rearrange dirt, dust or landscaping (check with parents first about that last one). Walk the dog, brush the cat, teach them new tricks. Take a nap under a tree, camp outside overnight, even in the back yard. GET OUT!

2. RUN, do not walk, to the next nearest home of an elderly person (do NOT mistake 50 for elderly!)
Knock on the door, introduce yourself, and then procceed to 1. sit and visit and 2. ask them what they need help with. then DO IT! This should keep you busy for quite a while... and you will learn some valuable lessons and loneliness will be averted on more than one count!

3. Find a kid... preferable another kid that is being bored... Not one your age, but one younger than you. Think (*yes, you can do that in the summertime) of 3 things that you know, or can do that this kid cannot and TEACH them. Spend some time making, building, working on something. Take them on a walk and see how many different birds you can identify. Teach them to make lemonade. Build a sculpture of found objects. Get creative!

4. Pick a new skill,,, something that YOU want to do, or have been interested in. Get your parents on board here... do some research... figure it out. implement a plan for learning about your new passion and be better for it at the end of the summer!

5. Do a good turn daily... a good deed... even small ones... You will smile at yourself when you're all alone. Pick up some trash and put it in the proper place, return the shopping cart to the store, smile at the angriest person you see. YOU will be better for it.

6. Go fishing (catch and release), take a hike, a serious hike... there's a state park IN THIS COUNTY with two trails 2 1/3 miles) that is free for you to walk. Take a bottle of water and explore the outdoors.
(THEN you will not die of heatstroke that first two days of band camp!) Ride a bike.

7. Make a plan for your family and implement it... how can you reduce and recycle? Your parents are tired of telling you to turn off the lights and not waste stuff... they get worn down...you pick up the charge for a while and see the savings (of finances AND the planet!).

8. Be an official volunteer... The local hospital has need of volunteers,,, the local nursing homes...
take your instrument and simply practice in the day room at the local nursing home... get three friends together and play together...brighten the day of all who live there and all who work there. Smile while you play!

9. Thank people... thank a police officer, thank a teacher, thank the folks at the YMCA, thank the person who checks you out at the store. If you have time to be bored, you have time to sit down and write a thank you note,,, to your parents, your grandparents, your friends, the mailperson!

10. Catch up with folks who have moved away. Sit down and take pencil and paper in hand and WRITE a letter.

11. Clean your room! Move the furniture around (amazing what you find under the bed!) REdecorate. Do a good job and your parents will be stunned... stunned, I tell you!

12. Clean something that is not your room... the fridge (do you KNOW how happy this makes parents?)
the laundry room, the utility closet... Your parents will wonder what is wrong , but they will NOT question this!?!

13. Go the public library and use this free resource... read magazines while you're there and read a BOOK A WEEK over the summer. (some of you can do way better than that, and if you do and report it to me, we shall find a treat!)

14. Practice that instrument DAILY. Annoy your family, the neighbors, the animals in the neighborhood. Practice early and late and in between. Become the BEST at what you do!

15. LASTLY, Study for the SAT... I don't care what age you are, what grade you're in, what you're doing after highschool... go online to the study places and DO it. Go to the public library and check out the study books. DO NOT ROll your eyes... you KNOW I'm right! If you each send me (or post) a word of the day from the SAT lists, then we're all gonna learn a lot of new words this summer!

Do not waste the summer! Wake up each day, every single day, and make a plan.
Dont' get to the end of it and only be able to say "I was so BORED!".

Report what you're doing... I shall be so proud and you shall not have to work at Camp Weaver all summer!

hugs all around,
dawn

You wanna go for a walk?

2011-05-17T16:20:00.000-07:00

Such sweet words... when said while clearing the dinner table...

.... from the oldest brother to the youngest.

They'd eaten more in a few short minutes than I can remember them eating in a while, which reminds me to step up the meal planning and preparation to keep up with the new demand of having both boys at home for a while. The leftovers consisted of a single half ring of a slice of red onion and less than a half cup of baked beans...

Dinner was full of good natured jostling and recounting the day's tales.
Stories broken by serious chowing down.

And then the older one said "you wanna go for a walk?"

Quiet settled in as the old door creaked shut behind them.

I count my blessings that they're good brothers to each other... that they love each other and crave time to spend together. I love that they're outdoorsy and are competent in the wild. I love that being afield and in the woods brings them peace of mind and I love that it brings them together.

jumping off place, indeed or Landscaping run amok II

2011-05-12T08:48:00.000-07:00

This last week, as I have already reported, we've had a little too much snake action.

Part of the problem is that I live in the country, in the wilderness, where nature abounds... snakes are part of nature, you know.

I do not begrudge them their place... it's when they encroach upon MY place that we began to have issues.

I do not mind an occasional slither by... I DO mind discovering a satisfied, lumpy snake in my chicken coop.
I do mind looking down while I'm hanging out the laundry, to discover a 7 footer 'smelling me'....

...uh. no...

This leads me to conclude that it's time to mow. The grass has been mowed this year, a time or two.

Admittedly we take a very relaxed view of mowing... as mentioned before, we don't have a lawn, so much, as we have a grassy collection of stuff in the general vacinity of the house, barns and hundred acre wood.
When we were first married, the Chief Grass Mower Man wouldn't get the job done before he started over, spending every waking moment that he was not at work mowing the grass... not fishing, not napping, not playing with the kiddies... mowing the grass. Sort of like once upon a time, I mopped the kitchen every night before I went to bed...

Really.

Then, somewhere along the way, we caught on to the fact that the children were growing faster than we could imagine and by doing all the repetitive chores with obsessive compulsion we were missing out.

That, and when it takes 15 gallons of gas to mow to the place and gas is $4 a gallon, then we can also use the excuse that it's simply ecologically sound to let the permaculture take over.

Until the snakes of spring arrive.

Yesterday, after a snake relocation event and another 'getaway' failed attempt at the second relocation of the day, I'd had all I could take.

I set off to mow the grass. Now here, I'll refer you to the previous story of my moving mowing experiences on the new mower. Yesterday, I dutifully sunscreened myself, fixed a water bottle, grabbed a hat and toodled off down to the barn to do a little rearranging of the snake habitat. To discover that there was no key...

With the assistance of the now fully engaged side effects of tamoxifen, I became rather furious. After searching for an hour for the key, to no avail, and sending several obnoxiously repetitive text messages to the Chief Grass Mowing man, demanding to know the location of the key, I abandoned all hope of fixing the problem and moved along to something else.

I spoke to the Chief Grass Mowing man on the phone later in the day, from work, and felt rather foolish, to discover that the key had been, all along, right on the hall stand, front and center in front of the door, for all the world to see. Like I said,,, I'm gonna blame fury on the drug....

Anyway, this morning, I watched the kid get off to school, ... really there's not so much to do when they're 17, sort of a 'tell me your schedule, do you have your suit for the concert?, have a good day!' sort of thing.
By 7:15, I was out the door, key in hand, sunscreen in place, to take advantage of the early morning cool.
Alas, filled the tank and attempted to crank to discover a dead battery. Now, I'd been warned that this might be the case... so I had to 'jump off' the mower, so that I could hop to it~!

I'd never jumped off a mower before... luckily, I grew up pretty self sufficient and luckily we have the necessary equipment on hand. For a few moments there, I was literally, in the jumping off place.

Anyway, finally,,, finally... I was off an mowing. While I mowed, I had time to think about a list of things that one should know when mowing with one of these machines:

~ I know I repeat myself, but if you remove one hand from the control bar of the speeding demon, to, oh, say wipe your nose or get some spider web out of your mouth, it WILL begin to spin... in circles... at full speed. Yeah... Remember that next time.

~ There is no intuition on the part of the machine when you are too close to things,,, laundry lines, specifically... If your hand/eye coordination fails you in that moment and you zip on under the laundry line, at full speed, of course, you just MIGHT get snagged by the adjustable drawstring of your apron, which was innocently minding it's own business on the clothesline. Luckily for you, the adjustable feature of the apron strings, after a nice firm tightening around your neck, gives way, leaving you with a rakishly good looking 1 inch wide 'scarf'. Refer to item above as to why you cannot use your hands to remove the rakish apron strings turned scarf.

~ If after two hours of mowing, you feel the call of nature AND you need to do things that you should have done before cranking the machine, like move the water hoses, giant tree limbs and all the stuff that puppies can drag about your yard, and you stop... you have to jump the machine off again. It's ok... was time to re-up the sunscreen anyway!

~ You should never let things distract you... beautiful wild roses... tiny wild strawberries...wild daisies blowing on the breeze... because, again, you are traveling at warp speed. The tiniest lapse in attention can net you a newly cleared path through the hedges or the excitable enjoyment of coming upon an embankment too fast, AND the understanding of how these things happened in the past...

~If during the middle of mowing, at warp speed, you suddenly round a bush, to discover a 7 foot version of the EXACT reason why you are doing this chore, all coiled and excited and ready to strike, and you do NOT react quickly enough, it IS possible, instead of running over the innocent snake that it's coiled body can be lofted onto your right foot (with which you were attempted to apply the non-existent in this machine brakes) and subsequent to which you MIGHT scream like a little girl and shake your foot violently. (No woman or snake was harmed in this incident, by the way!) The snake escaped to the pasture across the road, probably to come visit with my chickens tomorrow.

~ You realize that it's time, again, to do some serious trimming of low hanging limbs and some of the aforementioned permaculture. You realize that you should not turn so that the grass clippings land on the ornamental pond and float there, like so much green confetti to amuse the fish. You consider changing the shape of things like the herb bed to make it more easily mowed around (and give you more room for basil).
You decide to mow 'paths' in places where footpaths are, in the direction of the river and the woods.

~You might get to thinking that this is just the most fun you've had since the last time you rode a rollercoaster, or at the very least, any theme park ride where you don't know what might happen next. You get kind of 'revved up' and 'wide open' and all kinds of delighted with how the yard begins to look. That's a good thing... you need to be wide awake when you're on this mower!

So, I have put the snakes on notice... please, pretty please, go back to the woods and to the river, or visit the neighbors and leave me to my yard and chicken coops undisturbed.

Happy Mother'sssssss Day!

2011-05-08T15:22:00.000-07:00

But not the pretty, quiet, happy Hallmark version...

No... not us...

We hugely prefer to be original in our approach.

Just a little before midnight last night, Stormy made a discovery about poisonous snakes.

She discovered you should not try to eat one.

After several hours of obvious pain, hysteria on the part of the paternal unit here, and admittedly, significant worry on the part of the maternal person, we have a tail wagging, swollen head, I survived eating a copperhead dog.

We didn't sleep very much last night.

After sleeping in and enjoying a late breakfast with our 'just home from college' boy, we settled into various pursuits about the farm.

During my (very late) run to the chicken pen, I discovered a little Mother's Day surprise...

right on time, we began this adventure every year, usually early in May...

It's called...

Snake relocation program... or "GET DOWN HERE and get this snake out of MY CHICKEN PEN!"

Prior to marrying my husband, when this happened on the farm, we dispatched the snake with no questions asked and no friendly hands-on relocation program.

Then, I married this fellow and he preferred to catch them and relocate them.
I am now convinced, especially if I don't have to do it by myself.

So that is what we do now....

We take them for a scenic drive about the country. Often they are accomanpied by people in varying states of country dress, because it next to never happens at a convenient time when we are properly dressed for a Sunday afternoon drive.

The snakes never seem to mind.

We make sure that our snakes get a nice location to began their new lease on life, someplace other than my chicken pens.

This is Sis... You will notice that Sis is nice and trim... this means that we need to look for the kittens.

Happy Mother's Day, Sis!

Sis is the provider of barn kitties, which keep us rodent and snake free... obviously we need to step up the work on that front...

Truthfully, Sis has been trying to do the job alone, after coyotes and dogs took a toll on the barn kitty population. I'm sure we'll be reporting on the new additions shortly.

I watched the boy working in the garden for a while this afternoon... I'm so glad he's home.

He helped his daddy put up the deer netting around the garden ...

...after a while, I wandered down there to see what it was that he was up to...

He was adding his own special touch. You see, he's a fan of deer hunting AND gardening and especially cooking fresh wonderful things from the garden. We'll see how these new additions help in the never ending job of trying to keep the deer at bay.

And last, but not least, Daisy came up missing this morning or late yesterday... she's so quiet and good you don't notice her, but we do miss our creatures if we come up short. After a bit of searching and angst, she reappeared this afternoon, so we are no longer worried.

The boys are presently lighting the grill to grill some dry rubbed chicken and I'm looking forward to a late meal and things settling down.... we've had enough excitement for several days.

Graduation

2011-05-07T18:30:00.000-07:00

Today, my middle child, my oldest son graduated from college.

We had to get up LONG before the sun arose and for the first time in years, I had to run around the house waking everyone up. We stumbled around and dressed and drove into a heavy,thick fog in to the capital city.

In the last three days, more than 6000 students received degrees from the University of South Carolina.

And in the midst of the mayhem that comes with that, my boy received his degree in Biology, with honors.

This past Thursday, in a downpour of rain, we moved him home...from his apartment, with all his worldly belongings. His younger brother, who will head to this same college in the fall, helped to move his brother one more time. He lovingly points out that he has been moving people to colleges for more than 9 years now.
It's good to have a brother who loves you.

As we found seats in the arena where the 9 am service was held, with thousands of other happy families all around us, the younger one said "Man, I'm hungry... does this place have hotdogs?"

No, son... no hotdogs at graduations....

We sat with his girlfriend's family and we anxiously watched and waited while the graduates assembled until we saw our own take their place.

And then that familiar, beautiful ceremony, the conferring of degrees, took place.

And somewhere in there, about the time he got up to take his place in line, my heart filled until tears poured from my eyes. In an overwhelming moment, in a single flash, I recalled two things.

I recalled that for virtually every single day that I was pregnant with him, I was on bedrest.
I laid, on doctor's orders, on my left side and I prayed so very hard for him to come to be and for him to be alright.

And he was.

And then I thought about when he was not quite three and through a series of medical issues that began with the flu, he and I spent weeks in a pediatric care unit, some if it in intensive care, as he fought for his life and as I prayed, again, for his life to be spared and for him to still be alive to be my child.

And he was.

For this, I am so grateful.

His very life has been an extraordinary gift to me, in so very many ways.

For his being so many good things... honest and hard working, calm in the face of trouble and life, in general, sensible and sensitive and funny, intelligent and a very thoughtful and loving man, I am so very grateful.

I am thankful for this young woman, who is a special part of his life. She, likewise, is one of the most genuine, sincere and beautiful young women that I have ever known. We are all blessed for her presence in our life and I am delighted by the love she shares with my son. As she continues her education this fall, she will be in my prayers continually.

And so today, as he stood, tall and handsome, clad in the garb of academia, striding forward to take what he has worked so hard to earn, I prayed again, for this amazing man, who is my son. I wish him every hope and dream come true, but I also wish him a life filled with love and family. I pray for strength to face all that his life will bring him, for through him, I was brought to realize how fragile, how very tenuous is that attachment.

WHAT?!!?

2011-05-06T14:24:00.000-07:00

So, I go into the chicken pen to feed up and collect the eggs... I toss out some lettuce and some leftover grits and other assorted 'treats' from the 'compost' bucket...

and about the time the food hits the ground, the chickens explode....

... I mean they literally explode into my face, squawking, flapping... they hit me with full force and I dropped the feed bucket that I was carrying.

It is then that I realize that a very quiet German Shepherd has entered the pen behind me...

I almost had a heart attack... and though my girls had gone nuts.

There was no bad behavior... merely curiosity, so I didn't scold, but it was one of those 'have a heart attack moments' that you get sometimes.

I suspect the same is true for the chickens... who went back to feeding as soon as the situation was corrected. Dog outside, calm reigns in chicken land.

Daisy sits!

2011-05-04T18:52:00.000-07:00

So, it's cold... and no, though my personal thermostat is rather wonky, I'm pretty sure that it's cold.... in South Carolina... in May!

And I have my baby tomato plants outside hardening off and my even more precariously small pepper plants...

and an angel wing begonia, which had actually reached the ceiling in it's indoor location, that was repotted today...

and the two penis plants...

Ok, so they are actually plumaeia plants that I could not resist after we'd taken the tour of the greenhouses at Disney World some many years ago. We have lovingly (ok, begrudgingly) cared for these two plants for years and years and we never get anything more impressive than two massive phallic stalks.

I mean we jokingly said that we'd grow them for wedding flowers for our then early teenage daughter. And every single spring and summer we coddle and fuss and make all kinds of 'to do' over the plumarias, which reward us by standing sentinel and stately and occasionally bearing a few awesome leaves on top. By 'we' here, I mean me... with the exception of the boys giving them the awesome name of 'penis plants', the plants have been my personal cross to bear.
The daughter has grown up, gone to college and to medical school and gotten married with nary a plumaeia blossom having shown it's face.

Sigh...

Anyway, they can't get below 40 degrees or some such....

and it's cold outside...

And for some reason, I still care...Perhaps I should go watch the weather to find out WHY is so unseasonably cold tonight... but I digress...

Anyway. I went out onto the front porch to retrieve the plants and when I opened the door, Daisy sauntered in....

Now Daisy has lived here for many years... and for the most part, she asks for little, and she likes to be left alone. Most days, she dislikes, immensely being singled out for petting and she especially despises any sort of need to get in the car and go, oh, say, to the vet. In all this time, she has NEVER come into the house.

I open the door and here she prisses...

Daisy... in the house...

She goes right over to the table with the dog treats on it, barks twice and SITS DOWN.

Daisy has never , ever, never, ever sat on command.

That little rascal... she has been watching the pup training,this week, as I've been working with Tank, and she has been looking in the door apparently, to see where the treats were coming from.

The little bugger walked right in, barked and SAT.

Daisy got a LOT of treats... and she got petted

and then she freaked, because freaking is what Daisy does best.

She barreled out the door, mouth full of treats, back to her pillow on the porch.

Maybe the plumeria will bloom this year...

Random thoughts

2011-05-04T17:36:00.000-07:00

Things have been crazy busy here the last little bit.

Spring is in full swing (we are all polinated, sneeze, snort!)

People are winding down college careers and beginning to move. The shift of worldly belongings that has happened here for 9 years (wow... time sure does fly!) will happen again this week. The old house will finish squeezing to near bursting and things may or may not settle down to a new kind of normal. When the graduate gets home, we'll sort through his things, and some things I've been waiting to have sturdy help to do.

The baby chickens are growing ... crazy growing... I must get some photos... they're at the wonderful, juvenile, oh-so-ugly phase... it's awesome.

The dog has outgrown my wildest imaginings, but continues to learn and be an amazing companion. We have managed to capture a clip of her 'singing' to the baby on a phone... she is a delight.

People are finishing up highschool careers and planning the move to college. Ironically, the same college that will be shedding one of our own, will be gaining a new one in the fall.

A bit of gardening, though not much to see yet...

A bit of sewing....

A bit of complaining, on my part, about generally feeling like I've been hit by a hay truck.
The side effects of Tamoxifen are beating me about and I was growing increasingly irritable until yesterday, when I saw the doctor, to discover that that wasn't all. Medication for bronchitis and a sinus infection should help to clear up some of what I've found so oppressive this last couple of week.

I left the doctor's office, feeling somehow instantly better, as though having a valid reason for the puny-ness of late. I have a physician who is so gentle and so calm and who both listens and hears what I say. One of life's greatest blessings is having a doctor that I'm comfortable with, who serves as my medical 'home' and who listens and weighs in and helps me find a balance on the health care see-saw that I've been on lately.

I didn't need to be anywhere on a time schedule, so stopped at the local library in the big city.

I love libraries. I love the little local library. But I've been needing a couple of resource books so decided to stop at the bigger library, where I proceeded to get lost in the reference area for quite some time. I didn't realize exactly how lost I was until I heard giggles and looked up to see an adorable teenage girl reversing herself to go down another aisle... because I was seated, cross legged in the middle of the aisle, shoes off, reading, as though I were right at home.

Home to cook dinner and get in the last of the eggs of the day.
Petting the pups and the old dogs, herding in the chicken escapees...
A little weaving, a little reading till the kid gets home...
A late meal, conversation, coordination for the next few days, so that we're on the same sheet of music, so to speak.

The last thing that I did before bed was change over some laundry. Having forgotten to hang it out, it was much too late and the weather had been storming pretty fiercely earlier. As I worked in the laundry, I noticed the night noises coming through the open window. Frogs and bugs and night animal chorus, refreshed from the rain and the cool of night. A large moth fluttered softly against the screen, which kept it from it's journey to the light and as I turned off the light and headed to bed, followed by the thumping of Stormy's feet and her nose, cold against my leg, her singular vocal yawn which signals that it's time to rest for a while, so that we can get up tomorrow and do it again.

Almost wordless Wednesday

2011-04-27T05:51:00.000-07:00

A very normal boy...

Faith filled service transforms us....

Maundy Thursday Service

Looking into eyes

2011-04-26T11:10:00.000-07:00

This morning I attended the funeral of a dear friend. Someone I've known since childhood and in these past years, we've shared a church family. A fairly sudden serious illness, a sudden loss of one among us who will be missed. The hope of Easter fullfilled in our midst, so real that we can touch it.

Today was filled with all of those up and down emotions that come with these living life experiences.
Sadness for your loss and for the pain of his loved ones, laughter at memories so very true and sweet,
that ridiculous intermingling of all of those emotions where at one instant you don't know exactly how to describe the feeling... except that it is certainly one of those times in life that you are presently aware of the fact that you are, indeed, alive.

I became very, very aware, while standing in the cemetery, of the eyes that I looked into.

Brightest, clearest blue, crinkled with a smile.
Darkest, deepest brown filled with a tear that has yet to drop.
Green with gold flecks that radiate.
Blankness of expression or
Glint of depth of pain.

We are beautifully and wonderfully made.

Eewwww...

2011-04-21T05:41:00.000-07:00

I dropped a dozen eggs....

I opened the deli drawer in the fridge and it was sort of , slightly wonky... and when I pulled the drawer, the dozen eggs just below it leapt from the fridge

and landed

on my feet.

Beautiful, blues and browns of every hue, burst forth with golden orbs and albumen

onto my feet.

I am not amused.

Might want to go get a tissue....

2011-04-20T08:12:00.000-07:00

... the mama's reading this... you're gonna need a tissue... maybe some of the rest of you too...

Last night was the Band Awards Banquet... of his senior year.

Truthfully, he's only had two band banquets...before last year, we didn't have these.
Awards, when they were given, were passed out at the end of year concert.
This is way different... and I offer up a special gratitude to those who made this happen, those who planned and prepared, cooked and decorated and made it pull off without a hitch.

I love the banquet. I love to see the light in their eyes, their 'spit-shined' appearance, all curls and glitter and heels, suits,ties and dress shoes and a dozen fragrances rolled into a happy, twitter-pated moment. In a world where casual is the 'standard' and slouch is an actual fashion term, there is a night were they're so beautiful that that alone brings tears to my eyes.

And then there's this

and this

Time and time and time again, child after child, after child, no formal handshake... no arms length presentation...

In a world where people on a momentary basis hurt each other physically,where the evening news is often horrifying, in a world where teachers and professionals of all types have been relegated to sterile distance, thank you, Lord in Heaven above, for a program where children are touched and hugged and physically cheered on, encouraged and connected with, their mentors and teachers and each other.
For growth to occur and for love to connect, we must touch each other. Plain and simple, there is no alternative to it. Hand to hand, arms encircling, head to shoulder, cheek to cheek, toe to toe in a circle on the floor. Family, in whatever form it takes, must touch each other.

There were awards. And it's nice to be recognized for hard work and consistency and excellence.
It's nice to be singled out or honored as a part of a team.
Very important... this business of positive reinforcement... very important.

Of equal importance is continuity. Show them what it takes to earn those awards. And give them the opportunities to earn them for themselves. Exact excellence... help them to get there for themselves.

A significant part of the banquet, especially for those who come next, is finding out who the officers and drum major will be for next year's marching season.

He made them stand, to wait for the call...

Tense and beautiful... a learning moment if ever there was one.

And there they are... the future of the program ,,, leaders every one, charged to work together, for the betterment of the program and charged with uplifting each and every member, as they, themselves have been helped to achieve. A better life lesson in teamwork they will never encounter, regardless of how long they live or what they choose to do in life.

Look at their smiles... eager anticipation for the future, but in the moment, excitement and happiness. A couple of them were missing... not rounded up in the fray of 'after ceremony' crush of hugs and tears. They are included, if not in a snapshot of the moment, in the year that follows this one.

And speaking of the future... these two are among the graduates... and it puts that ache in my throat to see this photo. CJ's father and I went to high school together. We go WAY back. And as little 6th graders, these two found the drumsticks and the snare drum, and all the rest of the percussion equipment too tempting to resist. And side by side, they have daily beat their way through a thousand pairs of sticks at least. I have a photo of them as 'band babies' and they were both wearing the child size uniforms... but those faces,,, those same exact smiles... and those arms around each other...

... that's all that I can say about that.

The future of the drum line is safe.... safe and in good hands, literally and figuratively.
The energy and the drive and the sticks were handed over last night. Taariq, there in the middle, steps up to the position of captain and he is so, so ready for it. He'll lead a line that will feel a momentary adjustment without it's seniors and they will all look to him... for that strike of the snare that signals 'go'... for the leadership and the 'push' when they need it and for a calm, steady hand with a group that is known for it's sheer energy and pulse. To the left is a kid that the band lovingly nicknamed LT... little Trent, and yes, he does remind me of Trent in those early days... Oh, the adventures that band can hold, the lessons they learn, the important and life changing things that lies before them.

Last year, began a new tradition of giving the seniors a blanket. Embroidered with the band logo and their name and the number of years that they were in marching band. A beautiful keepsake to take with them, where ever their future takes them, to wrap around them for warmth and comfort, symbolic sign of the family that remains with you when you go. Send them on their way surrounded with that connection, covered with the warmth of their past, to places where they may need that strength... that touch connection... a physical symbol of an inward lifeflow of which they have been a part.

One by one... hand to hand...

standing in a line together... for the last time...

Standing acknowledgement of their peers for that moment...

Thank you to a school district and administrators who continue to see the importance in Fine Arts Education.
Continue to fight to keep the program and advance it. The world without the music will be a dull place indeed and these children, from every end of the school, need this for them and in them. It takes them places... it fills them with confidence in a way that nothing else does.
It teaches...
it teaches.

Thank you to Hugh, who when Trent was 3 and 4 and 5... tossed him on the band golf cart, let him be the water boy...gave him drum sticks and turned him loose.

Thank you for patience and life lessons and giving each of my three children individual attention and letting them be who they were. Thank you for guidance and friendship and for caring. Thank you for that video tape of Elizabeth's graduation, when I was too ill to be there. I shall never, ever, ever forget it. Thank you for doing all of the above for the children who will never say thank you, and for the parents that you'll never see. You and I both know that you don't do it for the thank you's... you do it because it's the right thing to do. I do appreciate that, more than words can ever say.

Thank you to these beautiful young people, our future in every sense of the word. Thank you for loving each other, for those smiles when I hit the band room door. Thank you for sharing your tears and laughter, your life stories and your future hopes and aspirations. Know that as surely as the sun comes up on the morning, that I pray for you, asking God to guide you and to bless you, to hold you close and let you know that you are loved. I ask for a light for your path and friends to make the way easier.

You know where to find me if ever you need me and there's not one of you, for which I will not answer the call.

A special thanks to Graham, for giving me a gift last night... for putting into actual words a precious thought.
You touched my heart.

Thank you David...

... for calling them children, for they are. Too often they are rushed... call them children and when they act like children, as they sometimes do, give them that moment, instruct them and move on.

...for telling them that you learned from them... for an open sharing of what it's meant to have these particular participants on the beginning of your life's journey as a band director.... for letting them see the human side and the struggle sometimes, but for keeping the 'push' on for excellence, even when the going is rough.

...for that positive "yes?" at the end of your sentences. For the expectation that their answer will be another positive 'yes'... From the first time that I heard it from the tower that first day of band camp, until the last time last night, it will be, in my mind, your trademark stamp on my child's band career and on my heart and soul.

Biddies...

2011-04-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

Hello, nutmeg!

Hello, Marigold!

The ladies Rose, Dorothy, Blanche and Sophia (yes, the golden girls!),Chipmunk, Michelle, Eleanor and one who's name escapes me just now will have their photo ops shortly. Edited to add Ahh! The missing name was Hillary, one of the three named after First Ladies...I don't know why I couldn't remember that one!

The girls accidentally joined us, here on the homestead, because I stopped by the feed store at an inopportune time. I was weak, weak, weak willed... I was.

And they peeped and ran around the pens and I thought about how I didn't need any babies just now, but that I needed a new infusion of genes in the chicken coops.

Next thing I know, I have a box of peeping biddies and a bag of chick starter and I'm on my way home.

Baby chickens make me strangely happy... and I obviously shouldn't trust myself to go to the feed store alone for the remainder of the spring.

The chickens are laying ....

2011-04-16T17:47:00.000-07:00

After an extended vacation from their duties, the girls have returned to the task they were made for.

Gotta love it!

Preciousness...

2011-04-16T17:41:00.000-07:00

Picking snow peas...

walking the dog...

naming the biddies...

ready for the prom...

a good old fashioned case of the giggles...

I adore teenagers!

April is a busy month

2011-04-16T17:19:00.000-07:00

This year April has been as busy a month as May is, traditionally, for us.

After April, I'm thinking we may have to eat some extra wheaties and vitamins....

However, before April could play her tricks on us, we encountered spring break.

Spring break meant a nice trip to the beach for a few very relaxing days.
Stormy, being inside with me and being my ever present shadow, went with us.
I really enjoyed seeing the beach through her eyes....

and I'll admit to walking about 20 times more than I normally do when we're there.

By the end of the first day, she knew where the other friendly dogs were located on the island and she wanted to walk in that direction.

There was that first encounter with salt water.

and mud flats...

and a speedy little ghost crab, that was snapped up...

then I tossed down the camera....

and for a precarious moment, the crab dangled from her tongue like an awkward piercing, before being safely and unceremoniously deposited back to shore.

No crabs, or dogs were harmed in this encounter.

Several creatures took naps in the sun...

I might have been one of them...

This little fellow, about 6 feet long, was taking in the first warm rays of spring so placidly... very much belying the aggressive feeding machine that he actually is.

Not a great shot, but the first time I've ever encountered while bald eagles nesting, prompting a sudden stop on the roadside and a leap from the car to photograph it.

As the month has worn on (we're just now to the middle of it!), I've taken several occasions to reflect on the days at the shore. Days away from the rush of normal days are so very nice. Having time to walk and reflect, and sometimes do nothing more than follow the pup on the long expanse of beach was quite therapeutic.
I resolve to do that more often.

Daily reminders

2011-04-12T15:48:00.000-07:00

I get daily reminders that Stormy is still a puppy...

and while she's coming along very nicely in her training, every once in a while, there's a moment...

Juvenile dogs who stick their heads in trashcans sometimes get stuck...

sigh....

The 23 hour day....

2011-04-03T15:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning, I got up at 5:30 and hit the floor going fast and furious.
I'd prepared for nearly a week for the day ahead and was excited and looked forward to it.
When everything was said and done, I walked back through my door this morning at 4:45...

... 45 minutes short of a 24 hour day.

Phew... AND right this moment, I feel like I've been run over by the proverbial band bus.

But here's what happened over the course of that day.

Carolina Indoor Percussion Association Championships were held yesterday in Cullowhee, North Carolina on the campus of Western Carolina University. My boy is part of an indoor percussion group that competes in this division. Not only does my boy compete, but 22 other children whom I love nearly as much as my own are a part of this effort.

Moving a percussion ensemble some 2 1/2 hours from home, to spend the day and compete is no small feat.
It involves charter buses and moving trucks, logistics enough to move a small army (which ironically, is exactly what it looked like we were doing). The details for making the day run smoothly must be pre-thought and then put into motion by the kids themselves and their attending instructors and parents.

Two professional music instructors gave so much time and attention to the kids this season. From early days of planning , to constant instruction, hours of 'after hours' practice, to intense devotion to the emotional aspects of competing and 'winning' very little was left undone. Our instructors are young and learning themselves, but deeply devoted and very invested in the welfare and growth of my child and the others. To take 23 individual teenagers and turn them into a cohesive working unit who all but breathe together, all the while performing music and moving in a synchronized fashion still, even after 14 years of being a band parent, takes my breath away. To tell a story while doing it, is even more impressive. To not rip your hair out when days and nights are long, when the kids don't understand or are mischievous or wild, speaks volumes to the skill set and maturity level of our young instructors.

I will say that while the parent team yesterday was small, it was as well 'oiled' a machine of parent support as I have ever worked with. We each fell to work in our self assigned tasks, would drop our task and help where needed and except for a wee amount of complaining about the occasional physical discomfort, every parent face that I saw was nearly always smiling. Those that weren't smiling were very intent on the task at hand or on the face of a child. We dealt with small emergencies and larger ones. A grandmother jumped in to help transport our bus driver to a hotel, in order to meet the requirements of the law about numbers of hours worked for bus drivers. I'm not sure what we'd have done without her. By her stepping in and taking him, we were able to keep the charter bus as our 'camp' or our home away from home for the day, which added immeasurably to our comfort and safety. A pair of parents drove the massive truck, after loading it with equipment and followed us back down the mountain in the middle of the night, keeping thousands of dollars of equipment safe and sound and right where we needed it. Myself and another mom did just that... we managed the kids, their Maslow needs and kept things running and organized.

Not to say at all that this was entirely work.. for it was not. There were silly lighthearted moments...There was that fun description that I gave about how to use a moving toilet... There were some brief moments where kids and adults broke forth in song, from Gospel to opera and everything in between, when you realized why we were band people and not a choral group.

There were hugs and tears and hand holding.
There were band-aids and ice packs and barf bags.

There were sunshine and wind, peanut butter sandwiches and homemade chocolate chip cookies.
There was the rivalry and the camaraderie and the nerves.

There was tension and jitters and practice and lectures and more practice.

The first business at hand was warm-ups, in a brisk 45 mile per hour wind, which whipped up dust devils into our eyes and made the progress much harder. There were pink noses and cheeks from the sun and bumps and bruises from moving equipment. Because we were short of help, there were 5 or 6 students from the university who adopted us for the day and pitched in on every hands front, going WAY above and beyond the call of duty and reminding me again, that there are so many good people willing to lend a helping hand, just when you need it most.

There was a tense wait, in the tunnel leading to the arena.

And then there were drums... and other instruments to be sure.

At the end of the performance, our kids left the arena with a very unsettled feeling. I, myself, couldn't lay my hands or mind on exactly what was going on. It's interesting to watch... you could read their body language... they'd done what they could do, and almost without exception, they felt that they hadn't done enough.

There was tears from the youngest and from the oldest, who had just performed their final competitive act.
There was love apparent, on every front, in every eye and every breathable touchable moment.

They reached out to each other... they revealed themselves to be deep and precious human beings, so very connected to each other, a band of brothers and sisters in every sense of the word, connected beyond the color of their skin, their ages and all the life experiences they bring.

They came in 5th. A very respectable showing.

Putting aside anything they earned from CIPA, they came in first in my heart and soul and made me so very glad to have been along for the ride.

What comes next can, in no way, thank each and every person who helped and was a part of the day. These are the ones that come to my very tired mind today. I do appreciate every part played and every thing that everyone did to make the day a success.

To the beautiful children of the Indoor Percussion group, thank you for loving my boy and each other.
Thank you for loving me, for always being respectful and the most delightful kids in the world to work for and with. Always remember in the 'game' of life to stay connected to each other and to work hard and give it your best. This will take you far in life and give you a better life than you can begin to imagine.

To Paisha, Dan, Tyler, CJ and Trent, our seniors, thank you for years of leadership and experience, hard work and flat out sticking to it in a world where it's far easier to quit and take the easy way out. I can hardly wait to see where your life's journeys lead you. I expect you to keep in touch with me and I expect great things!

To Nana, Bop,Chris, Will and Laney - Thank you for driving hundreds of miles during this season and being an enthusiastic cheering section for not just Trent, but for our band. Thank you for feeding him and encouraging him. Laney, thank you for being a classy little lady, well beyond your age in maturity. I do adore you.

To Ms Mary... thank you for driving all over the mountains so that the bus driver could drive safely and jumping in and taking that worry away. Thank you for last minute phone calls, for an emergency shopping trip and going way above the call of duty.

To Al and Debbie and Michelle, from the bottom of my heart, and my very tired toes, thank you for your undying devotion and endless backbreaking work, for being up at all hours and staying focused on what we all know is both an important task and one that, in the grand scheme of things is actually pretty short in duration. Thank you for walking a million miles, for feeding them from boxes and bags, for cajoling and correcting, for hugs and helping wipe tears. Thank you for the laughter and for what you've done for my child. I do appreciate it.

To Carmen... Do not worry about the search for where your life will lead you... the work will teach you.
Whatever it is, I know that you'll be amazing at it. Thank you for loving my boy and being his teacher and his guide on this journey. Thank you for the energy and the knowledge that you brought to Trent's final days in high school band. Thank you for not killing him at times, and for encouraging him always. And not just for Trent but for the other 22 kids as well. Most of these kids are not percussion kids... you've taken a crew of saxophone players and trumpet players and guard girls, flutist and players of pretty much every class of instruments and run percussion through their brains. That's no small feat. May you have gained 1/10th as much as they have learned.

To David...You're right... words to describe what we need to say are hard to find. Perhaps impossible.
At risk of repeating myself, thank you for being there and bringing my boy back to band. Thank you for being his mentor and teacher and friend. Thank you for the silly moments and the serious ones, for loving each and every kid and working so hard to help them succeed. These first two years of the career that you are so obvious suited for have certainly been a challenge. A learning and growing experience should not be easy and it should push you to the limit of what you can do. I think we've succeeding in doing that.

Sometimes when words fail, a picture is worth a thousand words. When I uploaded the photos from my camera, I was pleased to find a photo, in which if you look closely, you can see the children reflected in the lens of your glasses. How very appropriate... the band through your eyes... Thank you for your vision, in every sense of the word. Thank you for returning the music to my boy and to me.

Thank you to Tommy, who pretty much never complains... who comes home to an empty house for seasons at a time, washes the dishes, deals with the dogs and every domestic emergency and supports this effort financially, making it possible for both Trent and for me.

And finally, to Trent... my baby boy... in whose eyes I can see the future. Take the lessons that band has taught you and move on to the edge. As you step boldly from your childhood into all that comes next, know that your mother loves you. I have enjoyed every single moment. May the rhythm of your drums and of the heartbeat of our home tide you over when life is tough.

Fly strong and free from our home into your future, always knowing that the road leads back to home.

Where did it go?

2011-03-28T08:30:00.000-07:00

There is no denying that spring is here...

... there are tomato and pepper plants growing inside...

... the beautiful mixed lettuces and the basil are up outside...

...the dogwoods are about to burst into bloom....

and yet, this morning, it is raining....

... a cold, cold rain....

sort of a cold winter rain....

...windy, bone chillingly cold.

My morning visit from the red tailed hawk, noted by his shrill cry whether I see him or not, did not happen.

My early morning wait on the porch for the pup to 'go now' was a bitter, cold, damp awakening.

And though there is much to get done, I simply do not wish to move...

... I wish to sit in my chair, pup at my feet and knit...

... in front of the fire,

...coffee cup steaming beside my elbow.

Leftover bowl of cabbage and potato cream soup from yesterday for lunch.

Gardening book sort of mocking me from the table.

Every ounce of me knows better... knows the things that I should be getting done...

... but somehow... I'm thinking and knitting instead.

Trip back in time

2011-03-22T09:10:00.000-07:00

For the last two weeks, Tank has turned up with three different old fashioned feed sacks...

the kind that were immeasurably useful on farms in days past.

Yesterday, as he went walking by with one, I decided to investigate the source.

One of our outbuildings (most of which predate the house) seemed to be the center of interest for him at times and the door to the building is down, thereby giving him access.

Going to the building is really a trip back in time anyway.

It has always been known as the Commodity house... and therein was stored many of the necessities that were not in use at the time. There hangs three of the four boards which made up my great grandmother's quilting frame. You'd have to wonder what the fourth board was used for, as I've searched for it a number of times to no avail. It contains a treasure trove of canning jars, both antiquated and the ones that I use today.

Anyway, sure enough, on a table, just out of comfortable reach was a black plastic bag, circa late 1960's, which had disintegrated to bits and hanging down behind the table, just in reach of a curious pup were several more feed sacks.

As I reached for the stack, the first thing that I grabbed had strings...

... apron strings....

Now in my head, I hear the great aunt that raised me "Don't go dragging those rags back into the house! There's enough dust in there to kill a person!"

Which might, indeed, be true...

But that seldom stops me.

In going through the 'rags', I found several extant garments, likely from the late twenties, early 30s based on fabrics and a selection of well used and stained feed bags. Most were worn threadbare and many were, I'm sure, used to hang hams and shoulders which were cured. I remember this being done in my lifetime and old soft feedbags were what we used.

A couple of garments will definitely deserve a blog post of their own. One is a night gown and I have a story of a nightgown with such strong memories for me that it's both hard to tell and wonderful at the same time.

But this story is about the feed bags and the aprons.

Ironically, I'd spent several hours cutting out several new aprons, for myself and for gifts yesterday morning.
I wear aprons... and love them and tend to have favorites.

There, in the stack of towels were 6 or 7 aprons... utilitarian aprons created from feed sacks.

Now, my great grandmother had some interesting sewing skills. Self taught, I'm sure, her quilts were beautiful and always well made, but for some of the day to day utilitarian sewing, the work was rather "slapdash".
These aprons fall into that category.

The aprons ranged in 'pattern', which meant that she cut without a pattern, likely, making best use of the fabric at hand. Three of the aprons were identical, meaning of course that this apron was a favorite... worth reproducing. One of this particular cut was embellished by a small amount of dress fabric, definitely 30's era.

One apron was a 'half' apron and it was obviously copied from something... a catalog or magazine perhaps. I've found clippings from catalogs from that time period, and rather than order patterns, it's very likely that the aprons were freehand cut and then figured out. It's likely that they were speedily done, based on need, as well.

This morning, my findings were washed and hung on the line, like they were so many countless times.

I'm gonna wear one of those aprons around and determine if I like the fit and function and then I'll reproduce it.

Last night as I lay down, I felt again that I had reached out just beyond today and touched my female relatives in a way that is both sweet and tinged with sadness. The connection to them is palpable in my day to day life... I live my modern life in a home made of their will and strength and surrounded by their belongings that have come to be mine. It's really quite sweet. Some days, you just get to actually touch it.

Spring

2011-03-17T08:33:00.000-07:00

I'm officially ignoring the mess in the yard.

Nope... nuh uh .... not gonna look at it!

Hope I don't fall in it while I'm ignoring it!

Today, I'm gonna look on the sunny side....

Oh. how I love my Lenton roses... hellebores are a happy thing.

and I have a yard full of heirlooms... this one is never fails to please.

naturalized vinca... springs happy little pinwheels

grape hyacinths....

red bud trees getting on their springtime colors...

one of four types of baby's breath....

wild violets

daffodils

Spring.... ah....

Ditch witch II

2011-03-17T06:05:00.000-07:00

I am going to change my official opinion of the ditch witch.

Unless it comes back and turns my garden to the 4 foot depth level, I'm officially out of love with this piece of heavy equipment.

Thanks to a cruel weather streak combining with plumbing hijinx and plumbing that exceeded 60 years in age, we have had to go round two with the ditch witch.

And last time, the ditch went across the drive and to the back of the house.
This time, it had to run to the 'side' house, which we use for various things.

This meant that it had to run through far more of the drive, and across the front yard of the house....

over a beautifully full bed of moss (not cultivated, but naturally occuring)

under the brick walk

through the ivy

and too close for comfort to a beautiful 70 plus year old dogwood that was planted by my grandfather, which was the first and best 'climbing tree' for the three children who grew up here last, and for countless others.

I am not amused.

Recycled plant pots

2011-03-15T08:14:00.000-07:00

A lot of years ago, I used recycled plant pots before I ordered up a set of those amazing grow systems.

And for years, I used the grow systems to start my young plants.
I still have them, but they're getting sad and it's getting hard to clean them and various parts have broken, namely the clear plastic tops and the water catching bottoms.

This is not the time, just now, to order up a new batch.

So, I'll share here, the system that works and is virtually free.

First you need a 'mold'. At first glance, I found a medicine bottle that was about the size I wanted.
You need some newspapers and a pair of scissors, and some masking tape.

In this case, I used some taped that's been puppy chewed, making it unusable for anything where you need nice consistent pieces of tape. Those little teeth do a number on a roll of tape, huh?

For this size container, I cut the newspaper into thirds (or sixths, if you open it out flat). You want about this much extra length for making your bottom.

You're gonna fold down the top to make it easier to stand, hold it's shape and fill.

And you just roll it, loosely enough that you can retrieve your 'mold'.

You want the open end of the mold on the bottom. The 'top' is the folded down edge, and should be relatively even with the top of the 'mold'. (depending on how tall you want your little pots).

Twist the bottom. A good hard twist. And give it a little push up inside the open end of the mold.

Use a little piece of tape to secure the top side. Once it gets soil and water on it, it'll hold together very well.

So here you have to 'top'....

the bottom...

Slide the mold out and you have a little pot!

or three...

or thirty...

Cute little buggers, huh?

Fill those babies with potting mix (I used a blend of compost, perlite and vermiculite and sand) and plant them up.

Kept watered and warm, I'm days away from a nice variety of tomatoes.

Next up, a pan of pepper starts.... the garden is calling my name!

Oh, my...

2011-03-15T07:10:00.000-07:00

Some days... some days.....

Stormy has learned to open the wooden door to the outside...

and she has a 'baby' (stuffed animal) that she takes to her bed and sings to...

... outrageous singing... so much so that people that I'm on the phone with giggle...

... they giggle a LOT... 'What is that noise?'... they say.

It's Stormy singing. (Yes... her eyes beautifully match the 'baby'... I tried... will try again later!)

Tank is near naked... as near naked as I have ever seen a living dog.

He looks like a misplaced sharpei in a rottweiler body. The wrinkles of more skin than pup are evident with no fur covering.
But his spirits remain high and frisky.
And I remain hopeful that the medication is working and that he'll survive.

Yesterday, I watched a very pesky rooster continuously go over and peck on the pup's sore, sore skin.
And the pup would yelp and snap, but get up an move away.
Now you and I both know how things work in the animal kingdom.
Sometimes, the sick and frail are picked upon.

After what I would say was a very acceptable number of times of ignoring the rooster and moving to another little place in the sunshine, Tank got up quietly and followed the retreating rooster.
About 6 feet away, he snagged the rooster and one quick snap latter, it was over.
No more pesky pecking from that rooster.
Survival of the fittest.

Now, I watched all this... from my rocker on the porch. Stormy was sleeping nearby on the porch, firmly attached to a long leash (another story) so she missed out on the moment.

What was the lesson to teach? Don't kill chickens? When the chicken is actively aggravating you?
Frankly, a chicken or a rooster that were to do such a thing to me would be on the fast tract to the crock pot.
On record this morning, the rooster is still present evidence of the need to 'leave Tank alone". I'll go bury him in a bit.
I will be vigilant to see that the dog doesn't take this up as a habit, but frankly, I'm glad that Tank defended himself... and I'm glad that I saw it. Otherwise, I'd have been more worried about predation and my flock.

Frankly, there are roosters to spare.

And the young ones are getting .... peckish.

It's spring. This is one of the reasons that I keep a spare rooster or two until early summer... young roosters tend toward self destructive behavior, that rules out 'stupid' and rules out 'genes that we don't need to perpetuate.

One of life's lessons on the farm.

Weaving

2011-03-10T16:04:00.000-08:00

Since long before I married into the name, I've wanted to weave.

Indeed, even as a kid, I watched a man weave at a loom at an antebellum mansion, during a reenactment and I really, really wanted to weave.

Every year, I go to SAFF and I play with looms, or I stand and watch.

It just seems like an additional 'fiber thing' that I NEED to do.

Most mornings, I check my emails early. Most days for the last 6 or 8 months, I"ve checked various sites for job listings and other pertinent postings.

A couple of weeks ago, I found this post:

Antique 4 harness floor loom for sale.

And it called my name.

I went to visit it and the next thing that I knew, it was in my van and I was so excited as I drove it home.

Now, at first, my darling husband inquired as to if there was a need for such a thing.

And where, pray tell, would it be put?

And however would we know if it would actually work.

And as often happens here, my answers were these:

I need it, for reasons that I can't describe, and as I have never woven, I have no idea if it will work, nor if I can actually make it work and I have no clue where it would go.

So, logically, that meant that it had to come home with me, right?

So, here she is:

Obviously in working order, right in the middle of my living room.
Not forever... she'll make her way to the sewing room, as soon as I get in there and rearrange and sort this out.

Crash course with weaving began when my darling husband put the thing together and we decided that the front right and rear left posts were in the wrong places. Slowly but surely, with every little piece, it assembled.

And I rushed to the library for the 'standard' Learning to Weave book that every online resource indicated would be the 'go to manual' and I poured over the details.

Now, I was, prior to this, already working on a project that I'd simply not been to the place to share.
The aforementioned antebellum plantation house is now an historic site, and the loom has sat, unused for many years. I've been working on a volunteer project there to get that loom up and running.

In doing my research, I learned that about an hours drive north would get me to an historic site with not only a working loom, but an opportunity to watch as the loom was warped.

Thank goodness for that... I'd have hit the panic button fast if the first time I saw that process was in my own living room.

But, the process went fairly smoothly, if you discount the fact that I decided that my first project needed to be towels of an irregular plaid.

Oh, my goodness, it is fun...

and for a first project, I think it's beautiful.

The learning curve has been a bit of a circus ride, but a very pleasant one.

I will admit to using it to keep my mind off of things while I waited on all the test results.
I do believe that it's been therapeutic in the aftermath of the procedures.

And the loom itself is so beautiful, that I'm glad that I've never bought one of the newer ones before.

Sometimes, an old home calls for an old amusement.

March

2011-03-10T15:11:00.000-08:00

March has sure been trying so far. Actually, it's not March, so much, as is it life in general, just so happens that it's been in March.

I had a mammogram call back.

Which is never good.

And I had a stereotactic biopsy.

The pathology reports atypical hyperplasia, which throws me into a new category of 'risk' for future cancer.

I then had a surgical biopsy to remove any other atypical cells.

I now fall into a different schedule for screening, and will discuss with a preventative oncologist the use of the drug tamoxifen.

I share all this to encourage you, if you are female, to get the your mammograms done, regularly.
If you are male, then you know and love women who need to be encouraged.
Noone enjoys a mammogram, but they do find changes early, sometimes even before cancer, as in my case.

And while what I've been through has been,at times. uncomfortable and aggravating, it beats the daylights out of discovering cancer a couple of years from now.

On a similarly preventative care note, we've hit 50 this year... which brings on the often dreaded colonoscopy.

Now, folks, having had my colon removed nearly 10 years ago, also removes that issue from me.
Surely there are benefits to radically redirecting the digestive tract!

But this was not the case for my husband, so he diligently signed up and checked in, and got it over with.
And the great news is that he gets to go another 10 years before another screening.

If you fall in that 50 or over category, you know what you need to do.
The ONLY problem is the prep, which is sort of like jet fuel laxatives and a ridiculous afternoon tethered to the toilet. After that, the procedure itself is a walk in the park. You sleep away while the exam occurs.
The huge plus to colonoscopies is that they very effectively remove anything that is a precursor to cancer, so you need never, never go there!

One of the beautiful senior ladies at my church gave this advice... " After 50, it's maintenance, maintenance, maintenance!"

One could beg that most of adult life is 'maintenance, maintenance, maintenance.'

I'm looking forward to March settling down a bit now.

We need some cooperative weather as we begin gardening season and we'd very much like to stay out of doctor's offices, hospitals and clinics.

Tank

2011-02-28T17:31:00.000-08:00

A few concerned readers have wondered if something has happened to Tank.

Yes,,, something has happened to Tank.

But it's not as bad as it could be....

I don't think.

I've hesitated to report it till now, as it could have (and still might) have a bad outcome.

Tank was born with demodectic mange.

He had a spot on him when I got him from the pound.
I have never dealt with demodectic mange. I was so unfamiliar with it.
The man at the pound and I had a conversation that went something like :

" He was brought in on abuse charges"
" Well, he's the one that I want"
" He's not up for adoption yet"
"WHAT? You're gonna wait for abusive people to come claim him?"

It was the day before a predicted record snowfall for us... at a shelter that is underfunded and understaffed.
A shelter where I am known for my love of big dogs, and possibly, just possibly for taking on a hard case.

Yeah...

Then we get the bad news from the vet... demodectic mange.

This is passed from infected mother to puppies. ALL animals that possess it should be spayed or neutered and not allowed to reproduce. The fix is expensive, does not work every time and of significant issue to me, is downright toxic.

But alas... we were in love. Our rascally boy, stocky, sturdy little Tank.

Every morning begins with administration of medication. And things will get far worse looking before it gets better and we're hoping and praying it gets better. The result is the loss of hair, sore, blackened skin, great sores, secondary infections, scars and all manner of more sinister things. So far, we're dealing with everything on the list, but not the things like seizures. Oh, and blindness... which I'm also happy to report that we're not dealing with. Right now, we're at the phase where great handfuls of hair fall out daily, his skin is itchy and scaley and in places open and sore.

It's been rough. People see him and draw back. It's ugly and he's so sore to the touch that its' hard for him to run and play.

What it's not is this: It's NOT contagious... He and Stormy have been together every day and she's as thickly, handsomely coated as any little German Shepherd.

It's not going to stop us from trying...

In the discussion of the notion that treatments can be deadly, and some 20% of dogs don't respond to treatment and do not survive, or worse, need to be put down, we decided that we'd make every effort and we'd know that the worse case scenario would be that if we lost him, then he'd at least have had the time here where he knew that he was loved, part of a pack of happy dogs.

What he is is a ferocious barker (exactly what we needed). He's fierce and protective and very, very observant. He's a wiggly little affectionate puppy to his 'people'. He's occasionally dangerous to chickens... and to shoes left on the porch and to rugs hung out to dry. He's wiggly and full of fun but can be quiet and sweet.

When I take my cup of coffee to the porch to enjoy these crisp clear mornings of 'not quite' spring, his little head perches on my pajama covered knees and he looks at me...

and I realize that he is where he needs to be. He might just turn out to be the ugliest dog around, but he's ours.

sigh...

2011-02-28T17:02:00.000-08:00

Wow... just wow... there are days that I wonder where all the time went...

... when did he change from the chubby little newborn, into a happy crawler, into the rambunctuous toddler?

It seems like yesterday, when he discovered mud... or when he put the cat in the dryer.

One day last week, we bought a tuxedo...

Try as I might to insist that he fit beautifully in his brother's tux, I was forced to admit that was not the case and we went on a whirlwind tour of the areas menswear shops to locate the appropriate fit.

And here we are... the social season of his senior year.

Corsages and dances, dinners and proms, proper manners and celebrations of coming of age.

Oh, my... how the days have passed quickly.

A lot can happen

2011-02-17T05:01:00.000-08:00

A lot can happen when you go away for 4 days!

Puppy training can go far, far awry.

Oh, wait... that's her cute little face.

Actually, that's a people problem... bag of packing peanuts not put away properly... but you can see my point, I'm sure.

Then there's the issue of the suicidal cat...

Have you ever seen a better advertisement for reusable bags?

There are chickens who want to see you and spend time with you and sit on the porch!

There is now the need to mop the front porch...

But wait... what is this?

Several hundred peach and pink tulips have pushed their way through the leaves and detritus of winter, living proof that spring is on the way.

And this...

a hundred years worth of daffodils and jonquils and narcissus begin to push their way forth, reminders not only of spring but of my inheritance of earth and love of a garden.

The first of the crocus, always, ALWAYS says "hang in there... warmer days are coming soon."

This is the promise of fresh eggs soon, round fat hens, out pecking away, nearly re-feathered after some down time.

This is the promise of early morning wake up calls and little peepers...

And this is the promise of a companion animal... rapt attention to my every move, good progress on training, the undying devotion in her eyes...

Ah... it's good to be home!

* * *

A time away.

2011-02-15T16:48:00.000-08:00

I seldom spend very much time away from home. I next to never go away without at least one family member or another, or, less frequently these days, all of them.

Last week, I attended the National Association of Interpretation's Regional meeting. It's a professional organization, of which I am a member. The NAI is a connecting place for people who interpret natural and cultural heritage resources and the regional meetings are places for training, which is largely peer driven and connecting the members to one another in a supportive way.

I attended this meeting on the strength of a scholarship for new interpreters. Without the scholarship assistance, I'd have missed a pretty amazing 4 days. I took my certified interpretive guide training last January. Since the loss of my job at an historic site in June, I've pondered which path to take on the journey back to employment. Having found this field, almost by accident, some 25 years after graduating college, I've really enjoyed it more than anything else I've ever done professionally. The scholarship enabled me to attend this first regional conference where I found support and encouragement, insight and new ideas and met many folks who expanded my idea of what an interpreter is and what they do.

I met with 50 or so others who work in zoo's and aquariums, historic sites and natural history sites, National and State parks, museums, gardens and nature preserves. Everyone works to relate their site to the visitors though tours and interpretive talks, living history and many other ways which are creative and informative.
There's nothing quite like seeing the 'spark' in the eyes of child or adult visitor that says "Wow, I get that!".

This conference was held on Jekyll Island, Georgia. I've passed the exit on I-95 a number of times, during family treks to the Magic Kingdom, but had never managed to go there. It's a beautiful natural island, once the playground of wealthy Northerners, who built a hunt club there in the late 1800's. Today, the Jekyll Island Club is an historic landmark and very much available to anyone who would like to rest and relax there. There's nothing quite like waking up in the morning, stepping into your own private sunroom and watching guests, clad all in white, playing croquet on the lawn. Soft, sweet Southern manners abound and staff are set to pamper and always greet you with a smile. I've never been better cared for, more relaxed nor have I ever wanted to simply stay a few more days at any place that I've ever been. The conference facilities were very nice and everything was within a short walking distance of my room.

The NAI conference itself was well run, with daily concurrent sessions that ranged from Developing a Master Naturalist program, to the Sounds of Interpretation - A Mariner's Song and many other engaging programs in between.

I attended the Master Naturalist program, something that I'd been contemplating for quite some time and I left the session more motivated than ever to sign on to the program here in South Carolina. It was just the thing that I needed to tip the scales and get me enrolled. Information and the opportunity to ask questions made it easy to turn thoughtful contemplation into action.

I learned about Audio/Visual tours as part of the Interpretive Experience. During an informal presentation and a walk about the grounds, we learned about the use of new technology to create another 'layer' of information for the ever more 'connected' visitor to our sites. We learned of specifics of costs and the time it takes to produce the tours and contemplated how these applications would work for the places where we spend our days.

There were tips and techniques and hands on learning. I took part in a particularly fun session where we learned to write engaging program titles. We did a creative exercise, perhaps a little before our morning coffee kicked in, but we saw how many ways there were to label the same program from many different angles. Since the conference, I keep looking at titles of things and my mind jumps to renaming the titles using techniques that I learned.

Probably the most contemplated session was the last one, which concerned itself with music's place in the interpretive program. I'd taken my CIG course with the young man who interprets a 17th century sailor at Charles Towne Landing State Historic Site in South Carolina. I knew that he was engaging and entertaining, so I headed to that program as the conference wound down. I learned so much more than I expected to. Two interpreters from the site shared much about their site in general and included a hands-on activity that incorporates song and how it relates to sailing the vessel Adventure that is at their site. I'll admit to often saying that I was going to Charles Towne Landing and never actually making it there. This is one oversight that I will correct very shortly, after sitting through the fascinating session.

During the Regional conference, one day was devoted to off site sessions and trips. I signed up to go to Cumberland Island National Seashore. Though the day dawned with a cold, cold rain falling, I put on my gear and grabbed my backpack and jumped in the van for the drive to the ferry. A congenial group of fellow trekkers departed the mainland for Cumberland, with the admonishment of the ranger that you did NOT want to be on the island at 4:46 pm, when the last ferry for the day had departed.

We had an informative tour with an interpretive ranger, we met the head ranger for lunch and a brief talk before setting off to explore the island on our own.

We saw the wild horses (which are actually feral horses, a genetic detail, but as a horse lover, one that matters to me) and I met, up close and personal, my first armadillo.

We toured the ruins of Dungeness and heard the story of the Carnegie family.

We traipsed across the 3/4 mile dune,which is my personal 'largest dune I've ever seen'. I found a lettered olive shell on the ocean side and enjoyed the hike with some of the most engaging companions. There was birding and some of the most amazing trees. It was nature overload and I intend to go back and camp there for enough days that I can do justice to this amazing National Park.

After the day of enjoying nature's expanse, we headed back to Jekyll Island Club on the ferry and two porpoises raced along the bow of the boat, providing me with a last memory of Cumberland and it's vast wildness.

Taking a time away was very nice. Though I've been busy making up for 'lost time' here at home, my mind keeps going back to Jekyll and pondering the things that I learned and the people that I spent time with. I fall asleep thinking of Cumberland Island.

Sometimes, it's very good to have some time away.

.

Sometimes, it takes you by storm...

2011-02-02T05:40:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I needed to 'connect' with my boy.

I don't know how I did it without the cell phones when my other two were this age.

Except that they had to be adult and manage things for themselves, like flat tires and 'I don't have enough gas to get home'.

I digress.

I called him to do a bit of coordination of our afternoon, evening schedule and he answered his phone.

And he sounded ...

.... like a grown man...

... not a manly boy...

but a fully grown man.

For a long, long moment, I could hardly breathe.

Then he said that he didn't have gas to get home...

which reminded me that he's not..

quite...

there.... yet.

He's well underway... don't get me wrong...

... but sometimes, you just need a little bit of help on the way.

Beautiful day for a competition...

2011-02-01T08:15:00.000-08:00

Winter percussion competition season has begun.

And this first day dawned nice and clear and warm enough for the 'indoor' percussion team to practice out of doors.

So sunny in fact, that I got the call to bring sunscreen!

In a world where teens can be up to all kinds of 'no good', I'm so grateful for the fact that I know where my 'noisemaker' is and what he's up to.

He doesn't get to wear a different outfit... I also got the call that he'd locked his keys in his car, along with his uniform.

It's ok... I was going to help chaperone anyway.

An hour on a bus with the world's most adorable teens, a warm up and a performance for 'qualifying' for the season...

I can think of far worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon...

Thank you to the ditch witch...

2011-01-28T07:14:00.000-08:00

I have discovered a new 'tool'... it's called a ditch witch.

I like this machine! It does an awesome job.

While it was here, I tried to get the man to use it to break up a new garden area!

After two weeks or more of 'water hijinx', I am eternally grateful to say that our
nearly 70 year old pipes running from the well to the house, which disintegrated when touched,
have been replaced....

... and once again, water flows, we have 'indoor' plumbing, toilets flush and we have clean hair!
Laundry can be done and meal preparation is so much easier. I didn't realize how many times a day I wash my hands until I had to do it with more primitive equipment.

I hope that we're seeing the end in sight of bad run of 'aged utilities/appliances, bad weather and just
aggravating inconveniences.

The chickens also hope that the end is in sight.
They HATE the very cold. Naturally, this is just when their bodies went through the molt.
Otherwise proud rooster without his gorgeous tail, his comb discolored from the very cold weather.

A hen, so embarrassed by her plumage that she refused to have a face shot:

Actually, she was busy running to where the ditch witch was turning up grubs and bugs.

For the uninitiated in chicken life, the molt will happen, their feathers will fall out, leaving you a comical looking bird, but during this time, they 'rest' from egg production. When the molt is over, which takes about 6 weeks or so for my chickens, because I do not supplement with artificial light, they'll return to laying my morning eggs and filling the early mornings with their productive cackling. Adding lights at night, to lengthen their days, will return them to condition earlier, but I give my flock it's natural break, even while I despise storebought eggs during the ahem... layoff period... tehehehe. Rest is good and rest is natural and as it should be in the grand cycle of things.

And might you wonder what these girls are looking at?

Tank, who was having a shy moment... something rare for him.

In his defense, this is a particularly forward batch of hens.

Stormy simply refuses to be out and about when the chickens are running loose.
She sat on the porch and guarded my knitting, just in case the plumber guys might decide to rest and knit a spell in the rockers.

I did my first of the year 'front porch knitting'... which certainly has a way of making me feel better.
Though it was nice and brisk, in the low 50's, my rocker on the porch is protected from the wind and for a while each day, is in the nicest little late winter sunbeam... from my happy perch, I could survey the 'kingdom' and chat with the workmen, who periodically needed me to turn water in the house on and off. I could supervise rumpus time for the puppies and start a project with the nice strong natural light. I could hear the cluck of the rooster when he found a particularly tasty morsel and called his girls to 'come and get it'...

I spent a while chatting with the neighbor, who heard all the commotion of the machinery and came to 'check on me'... we caught up on the 'goings on' in both families and lamented over the inconveniences of the season.

I'm not sure that I say often enough how very much I love living in the country.

I do...

...while there are always trials, it abounds with blessings.
Simply taking the time to see it gives a new perspective on the troubles and reminds me that
life is best lived, one day at a time.

Animal adjustments

2011-01-26T05:33:00.000-08:00

I am trying to get a photo of this... I really am.

After nearly two weeks with the pups, the kitten has decided that they're not going away.

And she's decided that Stormy, who's inside when I'm inside, might... just might... make a suitable play date.

Yesterday, I witnessed this, and again, this morning...

She, Phoebe (also widely known as Damn Cat, hereafter on this blog she might be called DC, because even I have a hard time calling her Phoebe... I simply call her 'the cat'), was sitting at the dog food bowl.

Now, I do not have a clue as to why she wants to eat dog food and Stormy is extremely desirous of eating cat food, especially since it seems to cause digestive dilemnas on both fronts, but there she sat.

And just behind her, very quiet like, Stormy stood, tail wagging fiercely.
And in her mouth, Stormy's mouth, that is, was the cat's tail.

Now the cat has a very fluffy tail, and the tail is black, though the cat is white... and it's a twitchy, bewitchey sort of tail. I can see how it might be something you'd want to play with. Indeed, the boys are frequently seen attempting to attach themselves to the cat's tail, but that's another story, for another day.

Anyway, it took a solid three minutes before the cat became aware that her tail was attached to a small, but fast growing German Shepherd. There was a pregnant moment where she (the cat) had a look of consternation, before...

... she went back to eating.

This morning, while I was still sleepy and having that first cup of coffee, sitting in 'my' chair... I realized that the cat, who was sitting on the coffee table, tail twitching was being stalked. And sure enough, the fluffy tail was apprehended by the curious pup. A single swat from the cat netted the tail it's freedom and some happy, yappy barking.

These two are PLAYING with each other.

There are happy hide and seek games under the table cloth in the dining room. There is 'I don't fit behind the couch' sorts of yowling. There are races up and down the stairs.

But most importantly, we now have some nice quiet lap time, with BOTH animals sitting quietly, side by side in the chair with me. (Yes, at the risk of being quite repetative, I realize that she's a German Shepherd and that they are LARGE dogs!) Last night, I was knitting when the cat joined Stormy and me, and while neither animal seemed to want to get involved with the knitting, it just seemed like too much going on in the chair at the same time.

Country life moment.

2011-01-15T15:57:00.000-08:00

So, mid afternoon, like so many other times in the last week, the puppy needed to go out.

And instead of going out the front door, I went out the back...

...because the sun was shining brightly and the deck steps were dry.

I had a cook book with me... the kind that are fundraisers for churches and such, so I sat down, there, in the sun.

Now earlier in the day I had turned the chickens out for a walkabout.
They've been penned in the bad weather, and I'll admit that I thought it would be sorta funny to watch them on the nice hard skating rink, that in the summer months doubles as our garden.

And it was funny... (not for them)... quite funny! Chickens are fun to watch on an average day, but throw in some hard, solid ice and it's a surefire giggle inducer.

I have been housebound for a week and so will take my giggles where I can get them.

Anyway, back to the sunshine and the steps and the pup.

She headed out to find a patch of grass, which we just now have resurfacing, when suddenly, she came barreling back to lodge her little pudgy self between my feet and knees... solidly in that place that all small puppies whose lives are being threatened stick fast to.

I looked up... to see a HERD of chickens trotting as fast as their little ice skating show feet would carry them.
And they were making pretty good time.
I can see Stormy's point... they are her weight, and significantly taller and she's not seen them on the loose before.

So we sit there, soaking up the sun, reading the cookbook and hatching a plan for supper, when I realized that I had company. Sitting on my shoulder was a chicken... for the life of me, she was just sitting there, for all the world like she'd joined the reading party.

Sigh...

Such a shame there was no camera.

How?

2011-01-14T11:04:00.000-08:00

Can anyone tell me how it can take two small, very young puppies SOOOOOOOOOOOOO long to find just the right spot to relieve themselves?

Don't they care that I'm standing out there in my clogs without socks, freezing my tushy off?

What can possibly be more acceptable about a tiny little piece of real estate than say, that area right there, where they are standing?

Why must they smell every single inch of the place before deciding that 1. they need to start over, or 2. this last place will be just right?

Come ON, puppies of mine, it's COLD outside!

A walk in the park

2011-01-14T10:26:00.000-08:00

This is the winter, snow version of the walk in the park.
Awesome beauty, just far enough away from the house to qualify as exercise, especially if you're contending with 6 to 8 inches of snow.

By the time we went walking, birds were out and about... a red tailed hawk on the hunt, song birds foraging anywhere the earth was exposed. Bailey, of course, needed to get INTO the river to drink and it was neat to see how the creek had only a small central water flow with much of the edges frozen rather solid.

We still have snow, and plenty of it.

2011-01-14T09:57:00.000-08:00

A week out of school, days home from work, the slow, easy rhythm of 'down days' at home, cloaked in a blanket of snow and ice.

The mail didn't run for days! It's ok... noone wanted to stand out by the mailbox and wait.

We stayed in the house, when we didn't have to be out feeding up the critters, or when we weren't feeling punkish at having been housebound and needed a walk. We read and and cooked and napped and ate, and knitted ...

*I knitted, the men folk did not knit and the puppy unknitted a cap for me.

We read some more... I organized a bit (one of my resolves for this year) and netted a bag for Goodwill, two bags for trash and recycling and found some patterns and recipes that I'd temporarily misplaced. (Ok, so they were MIA for 2 years, you caught me!)

I read some seed catalogs... that gardener's January dream. I actually feel asleep once, warm pup in lap, seed catalog open to the heirloom tomatoes... not a bad dream for a snowy winter day.

Frozen fennel, beautiful in it's own right, reminded me to spend some time on the herb garden this year. 26 years ago, the herb garden was my very first ever Mother's Day gift from my husband... a gift that has given so many flavors and depth to life, much like the little girl that joined us. Few days go by that I don't run out and grab some rosemary, or thyme. Dreaming of summer basil right now, I can almost smell it.

The fields that were pasture, which are no longer needed for pasture, are being planned for our 'next round' of orchards. Many of the fruit trees that were planted when we were married were dwarfs, with relatively limited lifespans and few remain. Orchard Round II will be heirlooms and standards.

Massive cedars, towering majestically in the snow, make such awesome natural Christmas trees, that it makes me wonder anew why in the world we go to all the effort of late December... a few short days brought us the natural beauty. This snow was particularly light and fluffy on the initial fall, and we escaped the heavy icing of so many winter storms, thereby retaining our electrical service.... for which I am grateful!

The sculptural beauty of the crepe myrtle is season-less, the smoothness of it's bark wrapped in a blanket of snow.

My smallest walking companion would give it a go for a while, but when she got the shakes, she hitched along, in the warmth of my jacket, little feet safe from the cold and ice.

Enough already... spring can't get here fast enough!

Snowdogs!

2011-01-10T07:58:00.000-08:00

Morning came and Bailey was the first one out!
A veteran at snow and pretty much everything else that happens here, she was full of energy and excited to see the puppies.

Tank has turned out to be amazingly well trained to the crate at night. He's so full of himself and excited to not be at the pound. I'll have to post better photos of him later, as the camera batteries quit on me right in the middle of feeding up round this morning.

Stormy is shorter than the number of inches of snowfall... which looks to be about 8 inches in most places.
The snow continues to pelt down, rather hard, in fact, hard enough to hurt your eyes as you walk about.
I'll admit that walking around the backyard this morning with my eyes closed wasn't the smartest thing, as I stepped in a fed pan and took a tumble.

Daisy followed me to the chicken coop and amusedly enough discovered that one of the empty coops was blissfully free of the cold white stuff and she's happily holed up in there.

And true to form, the well pump quit, totally unrelated to the weather adventure. The well pump man braved the storm this morning and will return, if he is able to find a motor and if the road stays passable. Until then, we're in full out camping mode. In anticipation of the weather, we'd gathered up plenty of drinking water and water for cooking, and a bathtub full for the extra stuff. Let's hope the water gets back up and running and the power stays on. The last time we had a snow of this magnitude, we had one little child and the power was out for 4 days!

I look forward to getting out with the camera and a fresh set of batteries when the snowfall lets up a bit.

What with all this little dog housetraining, I'll have ample opportunity to enjoy the weather up close and personally.

Here's to a big pot of soup, a loaf of homemade bread, a bit of challenging knitting and three good books by the chair. If you don't hear from me again, know that we're better equipped than most.
The old house was built at a time when heat was had from the fireplace and the firewood racks are loaded and full. Every person here is capable and prepared for emergencies and noone here is very spoiled.

Well, maybe Stormy, who will have to outgrow this business of lap sitting before she grows up, but for today, for this snowstorm, a little warm dog asleep in your lap is a nice, nice thing.

Ya'll stay warm and cozy!

You just never know what will happen...

2011-01-09T15:09:00.000-08:00

Some days, most days in fact, I go about my day without worrying too much. I tend to be a happy camper and am seldom prone to being down and out. I'll admit to an occasional blue day, but most days, I find too much to do that's positive to let it keep me down too long.

I often deal with the doldrums by employing the 10 minute rule... go ahead and have a pity party... but only for 10 minutes, then, for goodness sake, get up and get on about something constructive.

It's sure worked with what can, at times, be a challenging life.

But lately, I've really struggled with the loss of the dogs. Inside of 6 or 7 months, we lost Nick, Maggie, Nana and Booger. And the place is too quiet... when I drive up, there's no welcome wagging... when other people drive up, there's no audible warning... Mornings and nights, there's no companionable four legged pals who 'help' me feed up, or sit with me on the porch. Bailey, who is more than 9 years old, has felt it too. She's my daughter's dog, really, but has lived here all of the education years. She's always been the head lady of the pack, usually even when the other dogs have been bigger. But she's slowed down a lot, and spends a lot of her mornings visiting my neighbor. My neighbor, who's in her 80's, loves the company and I can't bring myself to try to make Bailey stay home. There are no roads to cross to get there... honestly, I enjoy walking up there and sitting a spell myself. Daisy, bless her little neurotic heart, has never been a companion animal.

Morning, noon and night... I miss my dogs. Achingly silent, the barnyard and the front porch is not the same.

This week, while filing another "missing in action" report on Nana, I took a walk through a large regional shelter. Chock full to capacity of black labs and pit bulls and mixed breeds of every type, they all looked at me with their big sad eyes, or barked and tried to get my attention and it only made the loneliness deeper and more real. Luckily, people who work at pounds know what to do and what to say to women who stand and bawl like babies.

I left the big animal shelter and headed home.

Then, without much effort at all, I turned and went to the small local pound where I got Nana.

Now, it's never very good when the pound worker looks at you and recoils and says "Oh, I remember YOU!" " You're the lady that came every day for a week before you made up your mind!"

Yeah... that'd be me...

and here I am, again.

A very friendly, helpful animal loving sort, he nearly drug me to see a genteel, old, very fat golden lab.
And yes, he was a sweetheart (the lab, not the man... though he's a great guy too!).
But he wasn't 'mine'... We looked at all the dogs. 30 had been removed just this week by rescue groups, as this is a shelter where your time is up in a certain number of days.

After much mind wrangling, the very thing that I wanted most was a German Shepherd, a young one, female preferably. The breed generally suits my needs of companion and guardian, intelligent and quiet, very trainable and a strong, big dog. I'd seen no such dog.
One of the deals with going back time and again, is making sure that I don't make a mistake.
It's not like we don't get 'dumped out animals' often enough, where we have to make choices based on stupidity on the part of other people. I'd rather not make a hasty choice, or choose some animal when I know, in my heart, what I want.

There was one male pup, a Rottweiler, who came close to meeting a lot of the qualifications... and he was precious... engaging enough, but after a few attempts, he simply sat down and looked at me with those droopy sad eyes. His story was that he'd been brought in on abuse and neglect charges, so he was not waiting for his owner to come find him. He'd not be going home.

I looked, smiled and said "If I think about it, I'll see you tomorrow!~" and left.

Less than two miles from the pound, was a small, hand written sign.
...German Shepherd Pups...

I turned down the tiny little dead end road, feeling both hope and trying hard to keep myself from 'going there' in my head. Without running on forever, after a few minutes of what can only be described as 'something you knew that you shouldn't do, but you keep going", I was standing in a whelping pen with 14 6 week old German Shepherds. Surrounded by happy leaping, healthy pups, I saw her... over by the tree, quietly sitting, watching me intently. She watched my every move... every pup I examined, ever move I made.
I could hardly breathe... the very pup that I was looking for.

There are more details, maybe for later... what you need to know is this...

She likes to sit in my lap (yes, I realize that she'll get big)...
... we like to read... I like to look at her while she naps...
As a matter of fact, her 'safe place' is that chair... if she happens to lose track of me in the house, that's where I can find her.

She's quiet and oh, so handsome! She's quite popular.

In the face of the coldest days of the year, and in the face of house training a tiny little dog, I had to hit the sewing machine and whip her up a fashionable sweater, to stave off the shaking and quaking during our frequent outside forays.

She weighs 7 pounds, is 7 inches tall.

Her name is Stormy.

She's my girl!

And for reasons that I cannot explain... with many thanks to my long caring husband, who has been down this road before and who NEVER flinches when he arrives home to discover 'surprises'...

you should also meet Tank...

yeah...

He's between 3 and 4 months old... we'll know more when we see the vet next week.
We're treating some injuries and some degraded skin.

He's wild and rambunctious... the most surprising thing about Tank so far, is that he's vocal... very, very, very vocal. He grunts and yowls, he howls with all kinds of intonation... he 'talk's all the time...

He's all big head and big feet. He's an excellent barker... with a nice booming bark at appropriate times.

He's my boy!

So, there's lot of puppy breathe around here... and it feels so much more like home.

Knitting galore!

2011-01-04T08:20:00.000-08:00

December was truly a knitfest romp here! With time on my hand, and without a steady paycheck, it was time to do some serious production line knitting.

First, I made myself something. (And I WILL get someone to make a photo of me wearing it, as I'm wearing it often and loving it.) Worn as a scarf, it's provided the certain something that I needed for the holidays, proving once again, that I should knit more for myself than I do.

These weird light photos do nothing to display the color of this amazing hand dyed from Miss Babs' yarn.
Thank you, Miss Babs for my treat yarn and the inspiration, even after a rough year with the fire in your studio. This would be a color indicator, until I can get you a shot or two of the finished garment.

Yes, I realize that's not a way to get going on the gift list. But I'd purchased my 'treat' at SAFF and it just kept calling my name. The day the pattern came in, I was consumed with the notion that I should sit and knit and not feed anyone, nor do any housework, nor do anything else that might be construed as productive until I'd finished the Damson. I seldom purchase patterns, but this is one that I not only purchased, but I recommend highly. It was a fun pattern to knit, well written and simple enough, once I started over three times to get the numbers right. To do this, I actually laminated my pattern and used a dry erase marker to keep track of what line I was one... you see the pattern gives you a line by line breakdown on where you should be, number wise. The designer of this one is Ysolda Teague, an awesome young Scottish designer with a style all her own.

Next, I made a stack of caps for band kids. Back in November, the band director assigned classwork where the kids were allowed to choose a person to whom they would dedicate their performance at the Christmas concert. I got four of the types of letters that both warm your heart and wet your cheeks... the sorts of notes that remind you why you spend endless hours helping out where you can. I decided that they needed a tangible object as a token of my affection and so produced these... (Two of them did not manage to get photographed, it seems... will chase those two down soon, now that school is back in session.

This cap is a free pattern called Rib a Roni. Pattern designer is Jane Tanner from Knit Jane Knit. It's an easy, fun knit... so easy and so much fun in fact that I believe that I've made 4 or 5 of them this season. It rolls a bit at the bottom, so I ran a row of single crochet along the bottom to stop the roll. It has an awesome decrease feature.

This pattern is also a free pattern called Dean Street Hat. Designer here is Nina Machlin Dayton. The pattern contains a variety of sizes and two different bands.

Another free pattern that I've done several times this season is The Natural by designer Homero Luna. It's a very nice unisex cabled cap with a just right amount of cabling. I got ahold of the pattern before errata was posted, but figured it out for myself on the fly. I made this one in a blue heathered wool and also in a cream alpaca.

I wanted to include a scarf as part of a gift with the cream alpaca cap and not finding a pattern that would match closely enough, I wrote up the pattern as I knitted. I will share my pattern here as soon as it has been test knit for errors and technical glitches.

I knit a pattern called Snowtracks Cap, by designer Timothy Peters for my daughter. It was published by Stitch Nation. Ironically, as I sat down to knit it on Christmas afternoon it began to snow. Made of soft pink alpaca, it was a happy, feel good knit. A slightly more complicated pattern with a lovely celtic knot, this cap kept me busy for a bit longer than some of the others this season. It was worth every minute.

See this cute smile...yeah.... worth every minute...

We could go on... and on... by last count, over the Thanksgiving to New Year holiday, I've knit 18 caps.

I still have a few to finish up... caps for a favorite family and caps for a pair of special girls. If I can land some yarn, I might just make the Damson in a dark red. If the cold weather holds out, I'll wind up this knitting frenzy just in time to spend a few days with the seed catalogs.
You see, seed catalogs are my other 'cold winters night' indulgence.

An amazing resource, and an excellent way to get lost in cyber space is Ravelry. If you knit and if you have not begun to Ravel, then you should join the more than one million enthusiasts who gather there. It's a user friendly social media where you have your own space, friends, projects and where you can keep track of all things knitting. I recommend it as a frugal resource as well, as it's a clearing house for so many free patterns.

Last but not least, I'll again reiterate... when the world around me feels like it's spinning all out of sorts, or when I need to soothe my mind, or for simply no reason at all, I can head to my chair (front porch rocker, van seat, rock at the river or insert any other seating locale you can imagine) with a ball of yarn and needles and set the world to rights with a peaceful, rhythmic past time that in the end produces warmth and comfort on so many levels. In a meditative prayerful way, every stitch begs a blessing for the recipient and for me as well.

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T17:13:00.000-08:00

I wish you all a happy, healthy New Year!
May we all see clearly our way to enjoy the blessings that we have and hold dear our loved ones!

Today, as is tradition in the South, we had black eyed peas and collard greens.

They were so very good... with cornbread and a pork roast ...yummy.

When I was growing up, we had to observe all sorts of New Years day superstitions and I promptly disregarded the first one which was to get up very early... the whole rise and shine thing...
I never sleep in, but did today and frankly, it was wonderful.

I finished a knitting project and did a bit of tidying up.

The weather was quite balmy, compared to the temperatures of late, and with the notion that there were no longer dogs to contend with during my walk, I popped in some music and set off to walk. I did not get out of the driveway before I was attended by Daisy, who hasn't gone on walks in several years, and Leo, the pitiful OLD cat, directly underfoot. No amount of shooing and scolding could get them to turn and go home, so I had to cut my walk short, less the cat and dog also get run over by a car. It wasn't the pleasant walk for exercise and peace of mind that I'd imagined and honestly, it made me miss the dogs even more. Both Daisy and Leo seem to be keenly aware of the loss I feel and are, in their own way, trying to make it better.

A really fun job today was shelling pecans. My son in law"s parents sent a very generous box full of pecans from their tree. Our two trees didn't have two dozen pecans this year between them.
So, these lovely pecans will be a real boon to my baking and cooking for quite some time.

Turns out the teenager is excellent with the old timey nut cracker. Set properly, the nuts come out whole and beautiful. We got a chuckle out of the fact that the nutcracker was here long before I was and it's still in it's original box.

My goal this year is to get some things organized around here, starting with my sewing room, which has been neglected to the point of not even wanting to get in there and sew. I figure if I pick an area that needs organizing each month and get that done, at the end of the year, I'll be in a better place... or at least a neater, more organized place.

As much as I've loved having everyone home for the holidays, I'm very much, it turns out, a creature of habit... I'll be glad to get back to the 'normal' routine of school and work next week. Routine is a nice thing sometimes!

A funny...

2010-12-27T18:12:00.000-08:00

So, this evening, after a dinner of homemade chicken noodle soup, we all kind of settled in to our various pursuits.

This was when I discovered that my cable needle was missing.

Now for those of you who do not knit, a cable needle is an odd shaped little needle that is used for making those lovely 'twists' or the intricacies in the Celtic knot type knitted patterns. I'm presently working on a cap which dome is overtaken by an entwined Celtic knot.

Anyway,,, the needle is missing.

This is something that's been happening for the last two days as I have knit.
"Where'd the orange needle go?"
" You mean the pink needle" asks my husband.
"Orange, pink... whatever,,, the little needle that's bent to look like a seagull. Have you seen it?"

"I saw it earlier on the coffee maker, you must have put it down in there"

Ok, so I'm absent minded when it comes to the cable needle...

Anyway, he decided that the cat might have knocked it under the couch...

a likely assumption...

"Hand me that little flashlight" he says.
With flashlight in hand, my substantially built husband goes sleuthing under the couch, until...

"Wait a minute!" he says... "I'm hooked on something".

"What?"

"You know, hooked on something, something's got the back of my overalls!"

And I looked and he was correct. The back of his overalls were, indeed, snared by the knob on the drawer in the coffee table and he was stuck, rather immobile and unable to do anything about it.

tehehe... I recall why I so loved to put my toddlers in Osh Kosh overalls... such a convenient handle.

Ahh... a husband catching device.... wonderful idea!

After going to his aid, and after he determined that the only things under the couch were several items of the teenagers clothing and a flip flop, I recalled where the cable needle might be.

See, sometimes, when knitting, I place the cable needle safely in my bosom...

yeah... I found it!

with heavy hearts...

2010-12-26T14:27:00.000-08:00

It is with a heavy heart and a considerable loss of faith in the common decency of mankind that I write this.

This afternoon, as my boys prepared to go fishing (yes, in the snow)
a large truck which had been racing up and down our little road all day
ran over our little pup... Booger.

Without so much as a word, they stopped, then drove away.

It's been a really rough last month. Two days before Thanksgiving, Nana went missing.

Now, Nana was known to go to the river, but stayed close to home and never missed a meal.
For more than a week, we searched... and searched and searched.
120+ pound dogs do not vanish into thin air.
If there is a carcass, you will know it... this is the country after all, and we're obviously not unfamiliar with animals dying. There was no body.

One one other occasion, some 10 years ago, in the weeks leading up to Christmas, we lost two purebred dogs when they were let out to potty. In less than 15 minutes, they were picked up and gone.
On that occasion, seven other people in the area, who had all gotten pups from the same litter, suffered the same loss.

We still are mourning the loss of Nana, our big girl.

So, as the sun goes down this evening, we have buried the pup, that was so unceremoniously dropped off here about 6 weeks ago. She'd been spayed and had all her shots about two weeks ago. She and I walked in the snow and made pictures this morning. As I photographed the cedars in the pasture, she sat in front of me, facing me... just learning to sit and stay...

I cannot do this again, just now.

Snow in the sunny south!

2010-12-26T14:10:00.000-08:00

The weather forecasters have been warning us, but even late yesterday, it didn't seem right....
the skies were not the right kind of gray, nor was the air that sort of cold that said it came off of ice.

Then we went to bed, and awoke this morning to that hushed winter wonderland of a fresh snow blanket.
Nothing heavy or dangerous or hard to live with.
Nothing requiring the 4 alarm run to the grocers ...

In anticipation of this wintery white stuff, we made a few non-traditional sugar cookies...

Perfect for a snowy day after Christmas in South Carolina!

Biegnets on Christmas morning.

2010-12-23T09:04:00.000-08:00

I don't recall when we started this tradition.
But for many years, we've started Christmas morning with an early, early call to open presents and then I make some biegnets. Biegnets are little pillows of dough, fried and powdered with confectioner's sugar and eaten, still quite hot from the oil, with liberal amounts of piping hot cafe au lait. The coffee gets started by the first person who's feet hit the floor.

Ironically, this week, as we've been preparing for Christmas, each boy has asked if we had the ingredients for the biegnets. My husband asked as well,,, twice. No one here is willing to skip the biegnets!

Biegnets are not terribly difficult to prepare at home. Given that we're southern, we, conversetly, really don't fry much food at all and so the fried biegnets are a once a year treat. They take the place of doughnuts at our house. The yeast dough must be prepared in advance and refrigerated overnight. It seems that the larger quantity of this recipe works better than trying to cut the recipe in half. This recipe makes about 5 dozen 2 to 2 1/2 inch square biegnets. The dough keeps very well under refrigeration for about a week and makes an excellent quick snack if visitors pop in later in the day.

I'm make up the biegnet dough today and keep it in an airtight container in the fridge until I use it on Christmas morning.

I'm sharing my recipe so that if you want to try them, or start a new tradition in your family, you can.

Biegnets

2 1/4 teaspoons of active dry yeast
1 1/2 cups warm water (110 to 115 degrees F)
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 cup evaporated milk
7 cups of plain flour
1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg
1/4 cup of shortening (I use Crisco)
vegetable oil for deep frying
confectioner's sugar for dusting (rolling in, depending on taste)

Put the warm water into a large bowl, then sprinkle in the yeast and a couple of teaspoons of the sugar and stir until thoroughly dissolved. Let proof for 10 minutes. Add the rest of the sugar, salt, eggs and evaporated milk. Gradually stir in 4 cups of the flour and the nutmeg and beat with a wooden spoon until smooth and thoroughly blended. Beat in the shortening, then add the remaining flour, about 1/3 cup at a time, beating it with a spoon until it becomes too stiff to stir, then working in the rest with our hands. Place in a greased bowl and cover with plastic wrap or bowl lid and refrigerate overnight.

Roll the dough out onto a floured board to a thickness of 1/8 inch, then cut it into rectangles about 2 1/2 inches by 3 1/2 inches with a sharp knife. Heat the oil in a deep fryer to 360 degree F. Fry the biegnets about 3 or 4 minutes per bath. Turn them over in the oil with tongs once of twice to get them evenly brown, since the rise to the surface of the oil as soon as they begin to puff out. Drain each batch, place on a platter lined with several layers of paper towels, and keep warm in a 200 degree oven until they're all done.

Actually, that business of them waiting on a platter in the oven doesn't happen here. They come out of the saucepan (which functions as my deep fryer), onto the platter with the paper towels to drain briefly and get tossed into a bowl full of confectioner's sugar. They're eaten in small batches as they're done by hovering family members, still half asleep, clad in their Christmas pajamas and robes and toting big cups of coffee. And yes, since they were small, most of them drank coffee!

None of them died, none of them had stunted growth and only one of them does the 'spin around the light fixture because I've had too much caffeine' thing.

Here's your link to a printable version of the recipe:
Biegnet recipe

Here's to a sweet and happy Christmas morning treat!

Pimiento cheese recipe

2010-12-21T17:23:00.000-08:00

A friend requested my pimiento cheese recipe. While I do actually have several pimiento cheese recipes, they're a little fussier and include things like cream cheese and one of the recipes needs to be cooked. This is the way pimiento cheese is made here on a regular basis. It's served as a sandwich filling, and is awesome with homemade breads, or with crackers as a snack or a light lunch.

It's not so much a recipe as instructions. And it varies wildly, I tell you.

~I use block cheese as the pre grated kind is drier and takes up the mayonnaise too well.
So, I use two 8 ounce blocks of cheese, of two different kinds...
most commonly, I use a medium cheddar and a colby jack.
Sometimes, I use a sharp cheddar and a mild cheddar,
or pepperjack and mozzarella...
you get the idea.

~Usually, instead of pimentos, I go over to the pickle aisle and get a jar of roasted red peppers. They're about 100 times cheaper (per ounce) and at least that much better.... they come in big jars so I can make pimiento cheese whenever I've a mind to. Keeps in the fridge and is wonderful in things like potato salad, especially in the winter, when there are no fresh peppers in the garden (and when I refuse to pay $2 for a red bell pepper!)

Sometimes in the summer, I use whatever pepper is in the garden... sweet peppers mostly, chopped fine.
We actually grow pimiento peppers for this purpose... but find we love them in so many other things as well.
Though I've intended to can some each year, I never do. They'll keep weeks in the fridge and I do freeze some, finely chopped for use in the pimiento cheese too.

~Onion, grate a cut onion over the grater after you grate the cheese, about three passes... a good teaspoon full. You don't want to see or crunch down on onion, but you want the mildest of onion flavor in the background.

~You're gonna need some Texas Pete hot sauce. I sometimes use store brand hot sauce... you want the cheap, mildly spicy, very vinegary flavor... not the kind that sets fire to your inards.

~Mayonnaise - just use Dukes brand... ; ) Once, when I was on vacation, I couldn't find Dukes and used Hellman's. We did not die but I hyperventilated a little bit when I mixed it up. Sometimes, I use half mayo and half plain Greek yogurt, if there's yogurt in the fridge.

***So, into a big bowl, put 1 pound of grated cheese, a good three tablespoons or more (to your taste) of chopped peppers, pimientos, or whatever floats your boat, a teaspoon of finely grated onion, a half to one teaspoon of hot sauce and a good half cup of mayo. Stir it up good, look at it and decide if it needs more mayo to be the right texture for spreading. You want to stir it good enough so as to break up the grated cheese a bit. If I enjoyed washing dishes, I might be tempted to put it into the mixer for a while, but I don't.
Some cheeses are dry and will soak up the mayo in the fridge, you'll need to add more when you use it next. I throw in a half teaspoon, at least, of coursely ground black pepper.

It's so good almost anyway you want to serve it. On bread for a sandwich, on a cracker, tossed into a bread bowl and baked for about 30 minutes at 350 degrees. Keeps well in the fridge.

I recently perfected a recipe that I'd been twiddling with for a while for a cornbread cracker (a knock off of the Keebler cornbread cracker that is now approaching $4 a box for something like 20 crackers) and they're so easy and so good that folks think you're a genius. I'll have to go look it up and type it up too... it's worth the little extra fuss. For a Sunday evening ball game treat, the cornbread crackers and the spiced up pimento cheese can't be beat!

Advent and other things...

2010-12-20T14:54:00.000-08:00

For all the years since we were married, this is what sits on the hall stand, just as you enter the door.
With anticipation, we await the lighting of the Christ candle on Christmas day.

Shortly after the birth of our first child, we realized that we very quickly had to take matters in hand, if we wanted our children to learn to observe the real meaning of Christmas.
Our holidays are simple... so simple in fact, many wonder.

We decorate simply and close to Christmas, except for the Advent wreath.
The wreath contains five candles, three purple ones and one pink one and in the center a white candle.
The light from the candles represent the light of Christ come to the world.
Each week, in the four weeks leading up to Christmas day, we light another candle, and increase the light, bringing us closer to Christmas day.
Three of the candles are purple, representing repentance as we prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ again in our hearts and home. One candle is pink and represents joy.
Lighting the first candle signals our expectation.
Lighting the second candle is hope.
The third candle, when lit, represents joy.
The fourth candle represents purity.
The white candle is lit on Christmas day.

Late, by comparison to many, we cut a tree from the woods. Our trees have always been part of the hilarity of our holidays as they are always challenged in some special way. Put up often within the week of Christmas, we decorate our tree with ornaments which are like so many families, that the children have made and that we've accumulated over time. Falling trees, cats climbing trees and discovering 'hitchhikers' on the trees are common. Most memorable among the hitchhikers were thousands of small praying mantis which hatched from their egg case.

We give modest gifts, by any comparison and have always stressed giving to others.
We give to symbolize the gifts that were given the Christ child.
We've encouraged our children to give of themselves, not just at Christmas time, but year round as a gift not only to others but to grace their own lives with the abundance that comes from doing for and sharing with others.

We share holiday meals and traditions. Every year, while we decorate the tree, we make homemade chocolate pudding. We joke about how my husband's brother can tell that we're making this pudding and magically appear just as it's ready.

We love to sit and read with the lights on the tree and a roaring fire.

Most importantly, we attend services on Christmas Eve and receive Holy Communion in a reverent service with our church family.

When our children were small, Santa came on Christmas morning. Like all families, we got up way too early (one child is a real morning person!) and took photos and looked at the things that Santa left.
After that first couple of years of being parents, we truly took the Santa routine down to size by letting the children ask for three things. By the time we added gifts from grandparents and others, there was always more than enough to keep them very busy.

As we've been bustling about this December, I've been more than a little contemplative about the holidays.
I've been busy knitting gifts and baking goodies.

I sat a while yesterday with my mother in law and thought about all the years that I've known her.
Her presence of mind did not realize that there was a holiday at hand and my heart was quite heavy when I hugged her and left. I pray for her and all who, like her, struggle against mental illness and age related dementia. I pray for those who care for her constant needs and who also love her.

I talked with my daughter, who will work round the clock on Christmas day. I will pray with her and for her that she may bring comfort to those parents and children who are hospitalized. I recall a Christmas season that I spent in a pediatric unit with my own little boy, apart from my young daughter and I recall the feelings to this day.
I am grateful that there are health care providers who work their assigned duties on holidays to care for and watch over those who suffer.

I am critically aware that next year, when Advent season begins, even the youngest will be in college.
I'll be needing to change a few of my Advent traditions.
As my children grow up and go out into the world, for their own holidays, I pray that they find meaningful traditions and will always continue to focus on the true meaning of the season and hold it close in their hearts.
The true spirit of Christmas, the Grace of God come to earth in the form of a child, for each of us, is something that resides within, that no other person can take from you, or give to you.
I wish for you, my family and friends, the spirit of Christmas, a calm and gentleness abiding in your heart for this holiday and beyond.

Christmas concert

2010-12-11T07:01:00.000-08:00

Sorry, I can't help what comes next...

What's any Christmas celebration without a little drummer boy?

Actually, my little drummer boy is all grown up.

And that's a good thing.

Thursday evening, we were treated to a beautiful evening of festive music, songs and a choreographed flag/dance number by the combined music departments at our local highschool.

Words can't adequately express how much work goes on behind the scenes, against the odds of restrictive budget times, moving to a new facility, scheduling dilemna's, busy teens and coordination to use facilities.
When it all comes together, what impresses is the calm composure of young musicians in front of an auditorium full of appreciative folks. In a community where little is done to give fine arts to all children, these children have sought out their particular muse and persevered to stand before an audience in celebration.
In a new facility, for the first time, we were able to have a concert at 'home', instead of packing the entirety of the concert up and moving to a local college. What a joy to be at 'home'!

Before a very responsive crowd, they played their hearts out.

What a beautiful, talented group!
What an amazing Christmas gift ~!

My undying gratitude goes to the two teachers of the music department, who's constant devotion to music education, to the students and their development against all odds continue to persevere.

Thank you for guidance of my boy, for attention to his needs, for structure in an unstructured world, for a happy place to exist in the world of being a teenager. Thank you for music instruction, for a thoughtful ear and for pushing him when he needs it. Bless you for holding high expectations for all of them, not just mine and for steadfast enthusiasm and positivity in what can be a crazy world.

Knitting and other stuff...

2010-12-07T06:35:00.000-08:00

So, we're settled in for a really cold streak.

And nothing suits a really cold streak better than a little knitting.

Back in October, I treated myself to some hand dyed yarn and a pattern.
This is a shot of the beautiful yarn on my magnificent ball-winder.

And I've enjoyed the resulting knitting more than anything that I have knit in a long, long time.
I'll post about the project in full at a later date, today is actually when I expect to get around to blocking.

I'm also in the process of a fun knitting project that I simply can't post about yet. The recipients of my most recent knitting spree read this blog. But there's been a flurry of small fun projects and a short deadline.
Each evening, after dinner, I settle into my chair, which is flanked on both sides by the necessities of knitting life. If I have companions for the evening, I enjoy the conversation and if I am alone, I turn on the television and knit my way through miles of wool.

I'm certain that my Aunt Jo, who taught me to knit on the day I turned 8, had no idea what pleasure it would bring me over my lifetime. Her specialty was a little ribbed cap that she made in cashmere and as little girls in the family, we all had one. I know that she knitted a sweater or two, but other than that, I believe she only knitted the little caps and a single pattern of house slippers.

Her gift to me, on that birthday, 42 years ago, was a pair of vintage needles of the nylon variety. They were size 6 circulars. I also got a skein of peach colored pure wool. In retrospect, it was a lovely way to start. She sat me down and taught me to knit and purl, cast on and bind off, and then had me write down the pattern for the little slippers. I recall a few frustrated restarts, but by the end of the second day, I had a wearable pair of slippers... and I've enjoyed quite a lot of knitting since that time.

Fast forwarding a bit to my wedding... I had another 'aunt' whose name was Josephine. Josephine was a true inspiration, in that she married during the depression and moved away to Florida, far from the safety net of her family and with her husband, built her own home from scratch. She was an amazing woman who never failed to inspire. For my wedding, she brought me a 'dishcloth' made with kitchen string and a 3 by 5 card that had the handwritten pattern on it. It's the standard old cloth pattern knit from corner to corner with the yarn over holes along the sides. Her admonition to me was for me not to lose the pattern and to learn it and commit it to memory and then I would always have a way to make a dishcloth, which was one of life's most essential tools.
While I've never knit a dishcloth from actual string, I've made hundreds of them in cotton and use this pattern as a learning tool in all of the knitting classes that I've taught and for gifts and for personal use in my own home.

I will say that knitting brings me great joy in several ways.

I enjoy knitting for others, especially those that I love. While I knit for those I love, it is quite normal for me to offer up prayer on their behalf. I did this long, long before the advent of the prayer shawl ministries, so I understand and support that effort. I love that the work of my hands, completed can be used to keep someone warm... sort of like love wrapped around them, on days that I can't be there in person.
To ask for Divine blessings for the recipient is quite natural.

With caps, especially, I love trying out a new pattern, choosing something to fit the person's personality and yarn in colors that I think will suit.

I've knit for those that I do not know... I've sent a lot of caps and booties to ships at sea for our armed services. There is no better way to stash bust when the yarn overflows your storage (also known as your hiding places). I've hoped and prayed that those who wear my caps safely do their mission and head home to their loved ones.

I've taught a lot of people to knit... the folks you'd expect me to teach, like my daughter... but also many others...classes full of ladies who have taken my Knitting 101 class... students at school while I have substituted and sat at after school functions. I once taught an awesome football player to knit well enough that he made his mother a purse for Christmas! I've accommodated knitting instructions for left handers and for a student with a birth anomaly that affected her hands.

What I love most is the soothing, calming rhythm of knitting...
like rocking a baby in a rocking chair, or swaying to sooth a little one...
like the gentle rise and fall of waves on an incoming tide...
or the very rhythm of your heart...
to share that is a blessing.

"how do you get the kid to look comfortable in a suit?"

2010-12-06T08:06:00.000-08:00

In light of the fact that this question has been asked of me at least 10 times in the last month, I've decided, in the middle of the night, while I was pondering exactly how this came to pass, that I'd share my thoughts on the matter.

So, in light of parenting advice (which means you take what makes sense to you and make it work for your situation) here goes.

First and foremost... a LONG time ago, when this child was yet a baby, then as a toddler, he had no choice but to attend functions, related to his older siblings being talented, busy folks.

I've decided that the first step to 'comfort in dress clothes' is that he was always 'along for the ride' and always dressed appropriately. In other words, from way before he can remember, he didn't know there was any other choice. Frankly, with me as his mom, there wasn't any other choice... We simply dressed him, like you'd dress any little southern boy for dressy occasions and tossed him into the car seat and carried him along.

His siblings before him were also appropriately dressed and carried to many 'adult functions' where they too, had no choice in the matter.

We had neither the option to leave them with a sitter, nor the desire. Not only does this produce kids that willingly wear dress clothes, but also produces kids who grow to appreciate many of the fine arts and grow to tolerate many of the things that we as adults must attend.

Had I not carted the kids along, during those critical 'small children' years, then I'd have had to stay home and miss way too much. So, for my need for intellectual stimulation and my belief that they learned much that they needed for later, they got to do what I wanted to do.

So, from a young age, the little man wore his dress clothes and sat through hundreds, if not thousands, of church functions, concerts, ballet performances, recitals and family functions in general.

Now, I am mindful of the fact that he sat through roughly three times as much as say, his oldest sibling.

I think that plays a part.

Part two involved the clothing itself. You simply have to get it right. It's not negotiable that it be a proper fit, adequate for the weather/event, that it be in good repair and here comes the biggie...

... that the kid like it. This means that you have to spring for GOOD clothing. A good brand will fit and feel 'better', often, and it will wear better and longer and the kid will simply be far more inclined to wear it because people say things like, "My goodness, don't you look handsome tonight!" This means that you cannot wait until the last minute to throw together a dress outfit. This means that you need, in the closet, two choices, ready to go. In the case of boys, this means a navy sports jacket/khaki pants combination and by the time they're teens, a good fitting suit. You need solidly 4 dress shirts, including two white ones and a selection of ties. NOT dad's ties... not grandpa's ties... not kiddie clip on ties... nice quality ties. Dress shoes are also necessary...

While I do believe in doing things yourself, and I know how to do it, this is where I part ways with frugal beliefs and I take the dress clothing to the cleaners. Crisply starched shirts and khakis can't be substituted for 'let me see if I can get this ironed well enough for a concert?" sort of wear.

Yes, boys grow... fiercely at times... so this means that by the time I got to the second boy, he wore some of his brother's former dress clothes and I've needed to purchase some just for him. Luckily for the budget, the boys have similar tall, slender frames.

Anyway, before any dressy event, you have to try the dress clothes on for fit.
And making sure that the garments are good quality and stylish is important if you want the kid to LIKE to do this.

Third... as a parent, you must NEVER say things like "Don't do that... you'll get dirty!" "Be careful... you'll scuff your shoes"... You must actively encourage them to behave normally in their dress clothing. This means that when they're small, you're gonna have to go back into the closet for the 'back up' dress clothes sometimes. This means that your heart will lurch when you see an expensive dress up near the top of a tree or you come out of the house and see a little dressy pair of starched khakis in mid-flight over a mud puddle.
You just tell yourself to calm down... it's clothing, after all, nothing more.
I'm convinced that half of the battle at least is this. If they're allowed to be 'normal' children in their dress clothes, then they will not mind wearing them. They will learn to 'look comfortable' in the moment, regardless of the clothes.

And finally, you yourself, must make it a priority. You have to dress and go. You have to do the 'sit and cheer' things, regardless of whether you want to each and every time or not. As much or more than anything else, you must be their biggest fan. For most of us parents, this is an easy thing to do. But from looking around, it's getting harder and harder for parents to make it a priority. Yes, you have to alter your work schedule, yes, you have to plan ahead, but YOUR willingness to be present and accounted for makes that kid more comfortable in his or her own skin. I promise. The confidence and self assurance that any child has begins in knowing where they stand in their own family... that they come in high on the list of priorities... that they matter enough.

As I have said more than a few times here... the days are short that you'll need to do this... make sure that they know by your presence. There's plenty of time to do the other stuff when they're gone.

Sometimes, crazy things happen.

2010-11-29T07:26:00.000-08:00

We live in an old, old house.

Built without modern tools or equipment, by the hands of the man who would live there with his wife and children.

I sometimes wonder if he ever imagined that a hundred years would pass and his offspring would be living here, keeping traditions in the home that he built from the timber that he cut on the place.

And many changes have happened to this house over the years.

Much living goes on here and has for more than a century.

Fairly recently , in the life of the house, a ceiling board in the living room 'popped' loose.

Possibly because a rowdy teenager lives overhead with much electronic equipment,,,

possibly because the rowdy teenager 'overcooled' his room with an improperly installed window unit last summer and condensation water ran down the wall and along the ceiling in the room below (that would be my living room).

But most likely, the board popped loose because it's a 'way over a hundred' year old house that still comforts and covers a living, breathing family... that we all come home to when we can...and that the board simply got exhausted during it's extended time of hanging out.

Anyway,,,

the board came loose and hung around a while, until the "man who fixes things here" got his hammer, his ladder and his other fix-it stuff the day before Thanksgiving and set about to put the board in it's proper place.

Before doing so, the man broke out the vacuum cleaner and sucked out a bit more than 100 years of accumulated dust and dirt...

and this...

It is a seed packet.... an onion seed packet.

Dated 1895 and Labeled Onions- Eight best varieties.

It contains 4 seed...

and you know what comes next...

a science/gardening experiment in the spring, to determine if seed that is over a hundred years old will germinate and grow...

Talk about heirloom seed!

We shall see.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-25T03:20:00.000-08:00

I'm up early, in a very quiet house.
There are a few things left to do.

But, first, like every morning, I am truly thankful to God, by whose grace I have life and health.

I am thankful for my family... for my husband and for my children, for a new son in law.
I am thankful for my extended family who bring much to my life.
And I'm thankful for my friends, who keep me in their care.

This year has been a challenging one, but one full of growth and experiences that have made my life richer.

Starting the day in meditative prayer balances everything that can possibly happen after that.

It centers my soul.

I wish for you all the blessings of family and friends and for a thanks giving in your heart and soul.

So, the countdown begins...

2010-11-24T14:14:00.000-08:00

... and true to what is very normal for us, this is a photo made in my dining room...

... seems that we've sprung a leak, in the bathroom, under the sink...

the ONE bathroom that is in this house.

And I do believe that we have upwards of 20 people coming for lunch... so the new handwashing station is in the kitchen, unless Mr. Plumber guy gets the bathroom repaired.

You know, real people do live lives like you see on those crazy holiday movies...

and sometimes, we resemble that very, very much.

And as I pour up two pans of cornbread into skillets, the cat runs by, all stealthily.. like she doesn't want you to notice.... (very not normal for her)... so I go check and she has a lizard! IN the house... and she's growling... Now thinking forward just a wee bit, I can see that a lunch of lizard could cause upset stomach, so I wrestle the little cat for her prey. I am only bleeding a small amount... not near enough for a transfusion.

The preparations go on.

Many casseroles are made today, Wednesday, in advance of the frantic bake off in the morning.
They're tagged with their content and cooking instructions and popped into fridge I or fridge II to spend the night.

The cheesecake is ready and the aroma of baking cheesecake and toasty graham cracker crust fill the kitchen.

Now I do not make the dinner rolls until the morning of. But this is what they'll look like.

Yesterday, the teenager brought home his buddies for a 'boys night in' of video games.

The college age son made his way home, weary of exams and the senior year rush.

The younger boys grabbed an entire pan of rolls and headed up the stairs with them when they came in.

Really... is there a nicer compliment to one's rolls~?

It did sound like the boys had a good time.

I am not a fan of celery... I think I've told you that already. But you have to put it in dressing, and it's on sale this time of year, so I buy a bunch or three and chop it for future use.

I noticed that they're selling it pre-chopped this year.

An 8 ounce cup of chopped celery was $3.99.

I chopped up three stalks of celery that I paid 69 cents each for and netted 3 quarts for the freezer, in addition to what I'll use in the Thanksgiving meal.

I'll admit it was beautiful... so pretty and crunchy and green.

This years sweet potatoes are huge! And a gorgeous dark color... and so very sweet.

I used the hand blender stick for the task of creaming the sweet potato casseroles.

Two topped sweet potato casseroles, which will hang out in the fridge overnight!

Because I'm some weird mix of organized and obsessive compulsive, and because last year, I lost two old hand written recipes during the holiday rush to prepare, the usual stack of recipes on the end of the table has been put into a binder. Several days or a week before, while I'm planning, I pull together the recipes.
This year, it was rather easy, as I used the printable ones that I'd been typing up for the blog.
Slid into plastic sleeves, they're also tagged with the labels that will go on the casseroles in the fridge.
It's a small thing, but it streamlines the morning and helps to organize the oven time. I'll line things up by
temperature and time spent in the oven and proceed without much drama.
By backing up the lineup from the time I expect to serve dinner, I've determined that if everything is underway by 9 am, I'll be putting it all on the table at 12:15.

So, that's about where I am.... turkeys are nearly thawed, casseroles are done, tables are waiting for tableclothes and there'll be one last crazy relocation of furniture to make everything fit.
Everyone's calling... " Do I need to pick up anything before I come?" and the sweetest....

"I'll see you tomorrow", "I'll be there as early as I can", and " I'll be so glad to be home."

So, no matter how long since they traveled the road to get here, and regardless of the craziness of broken plumbing and anything else that can go wrong, I'm so looking forward to seeing my folks, and feeding them and watching their twinkly eyes over the plates in the dining room. I love to hear them talking and laughing and sharing with each other. I love the hugs and the kisses.

I love the connection and the coming together for a holiday designed for thankfulness.

I am blessed another year with health and love and family.

For this, I am grateful.

Pumpkin Pie - Sweet Potato Pie

2010-11-23T06:25:00.000-08:00

You must have pie...

you must.

and though I have tried many variations of pumpkin pie, from complex to very old fashioned,
this one is my favorite, both in taste and texture and in ease of prep.

Some of us prefer sweet potato pie.... some of us love pumpkin pie.

This recipe works for both (another reason why I love the recipe!)

For either recipe, you may prepare the fruits or vegetables from scratch. Baked pumpkin or sweet potato yields a nice texture for the pie. Both items may be boiled as well, resulting in a soupier base.

The best case scenario is a homemade pie crust. They take a bit of practice to get right and once you're good at it, you'll find it no trouble at all. When time permits there will be a recipe and thoughts on pie crusts forthcoming.

A prepared crust will work. When I need to use a purchased pie crust, I usually opt for the 'rolled' kind in the refrigerated section of the grocers, instead of the frozen kind, but either one will work. When purchasing the frozen sort, I get the deep dish size... as I don't like pie fillings burning on the bottom of my oven.

Without further ado, you will find the printable recipe here:

Pumpkin - Sweet Potato Pie

Dinner Rolls

2010-11-23T03:40:00.000-08:00

No Thanksgiving meal is complete with out soft, warm dinner rolls.

Because I love baking bread and because I love changing up things, I often use a tried, but relatively new recipe... whatever floats the boat at the moment.
I find that excellent rolls are often made from loaf recipes and some add more flavor than others.
A favorite to use for rolls was posted on a very early blog entry.
Try this recipe, if you have sourdough on hand, for an interesting complex flavor (will attempt to get it in printable form later today).

But, by far and away the 'fall back' plan for rolls, for me, begins with a recipe that has been a standard for years at the Fleishman yeast company. I made a handwritten copy from a very old booklet which had been a freebie. It's a much loved and much used recipe.

The reason that this is the fall back recipe is stated clearly in the title...
Sixty Minute rolls.
When the other ' I want to try this" recipe falls flat,,,
when the folks are gathering from everywhere
and small children are snitching food already from the table,,,
these can be relied upon to produce in sixty minutes.

From start to finish, you can put beautiful rolls on the table in an hour and the house will smell divine!

For most Thanksgiving meals, I will make two of these recipes (48 rolls) before lunch,
and while I'm cleaning up, I'll make a fresh batch for the snacks and 'leftover' meal that happens as the afternoon and evening progress.

Here's the printable version:

Sixty Minute Dinner Rolls

Cornbread

2010-11-22T14:05:00.000-08:00

So it comes to mind that for making the Thanksgiving dressing, you have to have a pan of cornbread.

I do apologize for the oversight, after receiving an email that inquired if it would work out well if one were to use storebought cornbread.

I am so, so sorry... I honestly did not realize that there was such a thing as store bought cornbread.

I genuinely had taken for granted the whole cornbread thing.

It's like the biscuits... throw things into a bowl, then into the oven and voila... cornbread.

As I do understand that simply will not work, and lest folks have to use storebought cornbread, I took myself off to the kitchen to see if I could come up with a plan.

While I suspect that my homemade cornbread is slightly different every time, I did measure as I cooked, and the results were my 'usual' cornbread in taste and appearance, and that is the recipe that I'll share with you now.

Notes of importance for this southern cornbread:

~ Cornbread in these parts is NOT sweet... never, never, never does sugar or any sweetener go into cornbread. If you want sweet cornbread, buy a jiffy mix and make it up, but for goodness sake, do not use sweet cornbread in cornbread dressing.

~ Again, much like my biscuits, I use self rising flour and corn meal. And again, I'm rather picky.
I use the Southern Biscuit self rising flour (mainly because it's perfect for biscuits and I'm not gonna have several kinds sitting around). And I use yellow self rising corn meal.... not cornmeal mix, not any kind of white meal... it bears repeating, .... yellow.... self rising corn meal. I use Adluh brand, because it's made here in South Carolina. For this holiday, I happen to have cornmeal ground at a stone mill... it's even better.

~ You're gonna bake this in an iron skillet. An 8 inch skillet or a 9 inch skillet will work well. A good, old fashioned, properly seasoned iron skillet. With any other pan, you'll not have the proper crust. Before mixing up the cornbread, you're gonna fire up the oven to 425 degrees and get that dry skillet nice and hot... and then, at the moment that you mix the buttermilk into the meal/flour mixture, you're gonna whip that skillet out of the hot oven, pour a good glug (couple or three tablespoons) of a good oil (olive, corn, vegetable) in and swirl it around to coat the pan. Yes, it looks like a lot... you'll understand it, when the batter hits and sizzles.

~ I use full fat buttermilk... again, that's what I try to keep in the house. I use, maybe, one half gallon a month. The no fat version of buttermilk does not make for an excellent baking ingredient. Nor does the low fat version. The 'whole milk' buttermilk is very thick and rich and you need the richness for an excellent quality recipe. This is not up for debate at my house. If you choose to use the no fat version, you certainly still have cornbread, but it's fullness of flavor and texture are compromised. This is not where I cut calories or fat.

~ Note that you can tinker with the proportions of meal to flour. If I'm serving a very simple down to earth meal, I often opt to increase the cornmeal quotient and decrease the flour measure for a more tooth, crunchy, corny bread. If served with a meal that I'd normally serve dinner rolls with and for whatever reason (likely that I did not start the yeast rolls raising in time) I decide to make corn bread, I up the flour portion and decrease the meal portion, for a more 'bread like' texture, with just a little of that nutty cornmeal crunch.

Last but not least, invest in learning to make the cornbread. After a few go rounds, you'll not need the recipe... just pour and mix and toss it in the oven and then, for the rest of your life, you have the means to add comfort to soups and stews and simple vegetable plates in the form of cornbread perfection.

Printable version of the recipe:

Cornbread, plain and simple

(Ok, so it wasn't last... a note to my darling daughter... If I recall, I had to do the "measure as I make recipe" for you some time during your medical school days. If I'm way off here in the proportions, please make a notation. I'm hoping by now, you're just tossing things in bowls and skillets when you need cornbread.)
((oh, my... I've spoken with her and it seems that she's not making cornbread these days because her skillet made it's way 'home' with me at some juncture. It makes me a very happy mama that she knows better than to make cornbread in anything else! ))

I'll be looking for that skillet now...

Roasted Turkey

2010-11-22T12:59:00.000-08:00

I roasted my first "solo" turkey in 1982. We were engaged to be married and were working to renovate the house. We made our first traditional dinner and had the soon to be in-laws, my aunts and extended family for lunch. At the time, there was not yet central heat, so we enjoyed the day in the cozy confines of the closed off living room, kitchen and dining room which was heated by the wood heater.

Never one to be intimidated by a recipe or a menu, I sought the advice of a great uncle, who was an excellent cook. The vast majority of my turkey 'rules' today, are those that were dictated to me in 1982.
The resulting turkey has always been perfect and has never disappointed.

First and foremost, the choice of a bird is critical. While a fresh bird and a home grown one is optimal there have been no years here where the turkey growing adventures have netted us a Thanksgiving bird.

I have decided that baby turkeys are, without doubt, the dumbest creatures. They simply don't thrive for me.

The few that have survived the first few days after hatch, did themselves in, fairly shortly, in the most ridiculous of ways.
That's another story, for another day... or an extended post, should I ever decide to raise turkeys again.

Therefore, I join the crowd who purchases a turkey (or three) for Thanksgiving day feasts.

What is critical about the purchase of the bird is the size.
The ideal turkey, in my opinion, is between 11 and 12 pounds and a hen.
Turkey's that are huge must be cooked to a miserable degree of dryness to achieve a safe state of doneness!

I'll swear that I have eaten turkeys that were the consistency of sawdust, and equally as flavorless.
I've followed these rules and never served such as that on my table.

If you've not cooked a turkey before, successfully, don't question this... just purchase an 11 to 12 pound bird.
An 11 pound bird should feed about 8 people, maybe six if a lot of these people are fine strapping lads.
If you are having a big crowd, buy two turkeys in this size range.
If you are having a really big crowd, get as many 11 pound turkeys as you need and convince someone to let you borrow oven time.

If you're using a frozen bird, it takes two to two and a half days in the fridge to thaw the bird.
This means for a Thursday table date, you must pop the turkey out of the freezer on Monday evening... about bed time, in my case. Put it in a basin, in the fridge. When you're thawing two or three turkeys, it helps to have at least one spare fridge. (I highly recommend having a spare fridge!)

On the morning of the feast, get up early and put the birds on to cook. Wash them thoroughly and rub the outside of the turkey with olive oil, then with a mixture of sage, salt and pepper. I use kosher salt and fresh ground pepper. I squeeze a lemon into the cavity of the bird and drop the entire lemon inside to bake.

Use an old fashioned roasting pan with a lid.
You are gonna bake the bird (birds) at 325 degrees for 2 1/2 hours.
At the end of the first hour, pour in a cup of water.
After two hours, take the lid off. Turn the heat to 400 degrees, which will brown the turkey beautifully. Watch it carefully.

Allow the roasted turkey to rest for at least 20 minutes., so that the juices settle into the meat.

Carve it up, serve it up and bat your eyelashes at the compliments!

Here's the printable version:

Roasted Turkey

Baked Corn Casserole

2010-11-22T12:24:00.000-08:00

This is a recipe that I use nearly every year. It puts another veggie on the table in a form that goes into the oven alongside several other dishes and it's always gone after the lunch meal, which no doubt, means it's a crowd favorite.

You can use either fresh corn from the cob, or canned corn or corn that you've frozen.
The dish is creamy and good and easy to make ahead and pop in the fridge until time to bake.

Here's your link to a printable recipe:

Baked Corn Casserole

Pumpkin Roll with Cream Cheese Filling

2010-11-21T13:22:00.000-08:00

Because I believe that all holiday traditions can be improved upon, and because I've never been a fan of pumpkin pie, a number of years ago, I decided to try the recipe for Pumpkin Roll that is often on the label of the Libby's brand pumpkin. After one trial, this became a necessity, in addition to an old fashioned pumpkin pie, as my Father-in-law felt that it wasn't a proper holiday meal without it.

I must digress for a moment to tell you a bit about how I learned to make a jelly roll style cake.

Years ago, we attended a small country church that, like many churches, had frequent (very, very frequent) covered dish dinners.
Also attending this church was a wonderful woman named Millie...

Millie was a very outgoing, warm and friendly woman with a commanding presence...
and Millie was also the maker of the jelly rolls. She made the most awesome jelly rolls and brought them to covered dish dinners.

I was fascinated.

Like many things in the world of food, I sought to accomplish this for myself...

And I failed,

miserably...

time after time....

after time.

And one day, after listening to my whining about how my 'rolls' always ended up with cracks and collapsed in a pile, if indeed they did not contain an actual dishtowel in the finished product, Millie knocked on my front door, with her arms laden with the necessities for baking jelly rolls and she walked right in.

I had a tiny infant at the time.

For round one, I nursed the baby and watched Millie perform her magic.

For round two, after ASSURING me that it was impossible to follow her directions and mess up, we made jelly rolls side by side.

If you're keeping count, we're up to three jelly rolls.

Then, she made me make a final jelly roll, unassisted, before she left me with the four jelly rolls and went home.

Today, and many days, I've recalled this afternoon as one spent laughing and being given quite the education about all manner of things that came in in the way of conversation. And I've never forgotten the secret to making a roll style cake...

and here it is.... For starters find the simplest recipe... the easiest one with the fewest, most basic ingredients.
Where the recipe calls for beating the eggs and the sugar, you need to beat the eggs and sugar WAY past the time that seems reasonable...and when you do, the texture changes and THAT, dear folks, is what holds the cake roll together.

The whole business of rolling up the hot cake with the prepared (lots and lots and lots of powdered sugar) towel is so much easier when the cake, with properly beaten eggs does not fall to pieces.

So, for Thanksgiving, I'll spend the afternoon before making this pumpkin roll, and I'll sit down and have a cup of tea while it bakes and remember Millie.

If you have never made a rolled cake, I'd really encourage you to make a 'draft' a time or two (or even four) before attempting it for a holiday meal for guests.

But I'd really encourage you to make one... life is too short, not to know how to make a jelly roll!

Pumpkin Roll with Cream Cheese Filling

Really Good Cheesecake

2010-11-21T12:54:00.000-08:00

Most holidays and many special events and some ordinary days merit the addition of the Really Good Cheesecake. It's been a part of my repertoire for more than 25 years. It's as plain as can be, but oh, so good and really needs to be made a day or two in advance of your wanting to serve it!

Every kitchen needs more than one springform pan. You need at least two, so that you can make one of these to take somewhere, while you also have one in the fridge for yourself.

This is one recipe where I do cut calories and fat.
This cheesecake is still awesome when made with Neufchatel cheese, which is 25% lighter and the lower fat sour cream.

I do find that this cheesecake is universally appreciated for all of those situations where you need to take food, illness and injury of friends and loved ones, covered dish dinners and funerals... simply put, everyone will think you're a wonderful cook, for very little effort!

Really!

This recipe is self explanatory...

Really Good Cheesecake