Last day of 2009: ramblings

Molly and I took our last long walk for 2009 this morning. We like to get out for a walk each day, rain or shine, snow or cold. That's not to say we do get out for a walk each day, but we have a fairly decent walking record. Molly and I have walked many miles together over the past seven years.

That's my ironing board behind Molly. Lovely, isn't it, with a just-ironed shirt hanging from it? I know how to frame a picture!

It's difficult to believe it's the last day for 2009, isn't it? It seems like such a short time ago that we were being scared senseless by the possibilities of the Y2K bug. So much for that.

Molly scared the bejeepers out of me this morning as I was getting dressed. She wandered into the bedroom and settled down at my feet. Suddenly I realized she was working on a little project of some kind. I looked down...only to discover my size 8 wooden circular knitting needles in her mouth. She looked up at me calmly. I reached to grab the needles. She dropped them. Usually she enjoys a good game of I'll run around the house while you chase me and try to take back what I've stolen. This time I guess she knew she'd gone too far by stealing my precious knitting needles. Crisis averted.

I took this photo of one of my orchids in early December but thought I'd share it today because, really, I have nothing to write about, which I'm sure you've already figured out, so I thought a picture might be worth a thousand more words. I got a kick out of this particular orchid when it bloomed, because the bottom blossom is turned sideways. I checked it yesterday, though; that blossom has seen the error of its ways and is now posing correctly. The third bud has opened, too.

I do enjoy my orchids. What I really enjoy about them is that their blossoms last for several weeks.

On Monday of this week the local weather forecasters started predicting a major storm for this weekend. One even said we'd be measuring the snowfall in "feet, not inches." That kind of talk gets my attention.

Today, though, the forecasters seem to be saying we'll get intermittent snow starting late this afternoon and still sputtering along into late Sunday. We shall see.

Meanwhile, Happy New Year. I wish you good health and happiness.

So that was Christmas

The tiramisu has been made and devoured.

Molly received a new stuffed toy.

Four-year-old Miss V. received dolls and clothes...and demonstrated during dinner that she can now count to 39 without a hitch.

The cardinal stopped by to wish us a Merry Christmas.

The treasured stuffed toy got dismembered and eviscerated in order to remove the squeaker.

I feel as if I've eaten little besides sugar for the past several days. I need a fresh start.

It's time to put 2009 to bed and move on to 2010.

A pomegranate and some sill

I've wanted to see what pomegranates are all about ever since I taught an annual Greek and Roman mythology unit. That's where I first heard of pomegranates: Demeter's daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped and taken to the Underworld by Hades. She was rescued, but not before she'd eaten a few pomegranate seeds. Because she ate four or six seeds (versions of the myth differ), she has to return to the Underworld to be with Hades that number of months each year. During the months Persephone is gone, her mother Demeter grieves, neglecting the earth and causing winter to arrive. So that's the story, but what about the fruit?

I finally bought a pomegranate last week, and I was wise enough to snag a pamphlet with directions for opening it.

It quickly became a messier job than I'd hoped for, but my, the seeds are sweet and delicious! I was surprised to discover the pomegranate was packed full of seeds.

They're all gone now: I put some in our daily smoothies, along with the frozen blueberries, yogurt, milk, ground flax seed, wheat germ, oat bran, and psyllium. Delicious.

And then there's the inlagd sill. (I don't recommend eating pomegranate seeds and sill together!)

The salt herring arrived from northern Maine on Monday, and before I knew it, I was doing Ken's job for him. He usually makes the sill, but I could see he was busy with hauling lumber he'd had sawed from trees he'd cut out back, so I decided I could take over the sill-making task.

Ken said the sill was delicious, but then the next morning he pointed out that I'd forgotten to add the chopped onions! I quickly chopped a large onion and added it to the dish of sill. No harm done, but I do wonder why I didn't notice the missing onions myself.

Next on my list: making a tiramisu. That'll happen on Thursday.

The Christmas dolls

Last evening Ken was looking through a Target flyer, ogling the toy cars and trucks and wishing he'd had some of those toys when he was a small boy.

That got me to thinking about Christmases of my childhood, especially the Christmas Roberta and I got our dolls.

Roberta and I are the youngest of six. Our older siblings are from 12 to 18 years older than I, and Roberta is almost two years older than I.

On Christmas morning we never found our tree over-laden with gifts, as some did then and many do today. We always had a Christmas, though, and we cherished the gifts we received from Santa.

I clearly remember the day, a week or two before Christmas, when Mum or our older sister Shirley sent Roberta to the upstairs closet to get something. Roberta returned with the item, and her eyes were as large as dinner plates.

I knew something was up. Roberta and I sneaked to a quiet spot where Roberta confessed to me, "There are two dolls hidden in the back of the closet."

Wow! We were about five and six-and-a-half at the time, and the thought of those dolls, hiding in the closet, beautiful dolls that just might be for us, was about all I could handle.

Christmas morning finally came, and sure enough, two beautiful dolls sat under the tree. My doll had blonde hair; Roberta's had brown hair. They were elegantly dressed, complete with tiny shoes, and they were ours.

As I look at photos of that Christmas morning, I see Roberta and I are wearing our Korean silk embroidered pajamas. One of our brothers, Eldon, was stationed in Korea, for this was during the Korean War, and Eldon had sent home to his family various Korean gifts. For his sisters, he sent beautiful pajamas. I remember my mother got a silk bed jacket and my father received a silk smoking jacket.

So this was, indeed, an exciting Christmas for Roberta and me.

I didn't realize until just this year that it was Shirley, our older sister, who'd given the dolls to us.

Perhaps I should have realized it was Shirley, because she was always so good to her two little sisters. She watched out for us and often gave us what we might not have had otherwise. It was she who brought home to us one summer day brand new bathing suits! I remember Roberta and I put on our bathing suits immediately and sashayed around the kitchen in them, feeling like princesses.
It was Shirley who became my rock when I was a teenager and life was not as happy as I wanted it to be. She was always supportive of me, encouraging to me, even though she was now a busy mother herself and giving endless love to her children.

The year we got our Christmas dolls will always be a favorite memory of mine. I still have my doll, although time has not been kind to her.

What I need to do is send her to a doll hospital and have her brought back to the beauty she had that Christmas morning so long ago.

Aunt Judith's spritz

Aunt Judith wasn't really my aunt, or Ken's, but we thought of her as our very own aunt. She was actually our friend Lynn's aunt.

Judith was a lovely Swedish lady who taught everyone she knew the meaning of ambition and kindness and grace and creativity.

She was born and grew up in New Sweden, Maine, which is in the far northern tip of this state. Her parents were descended from the original immigrants who sailed from Sweden to New Brunswick in the late 1800's, then walked across New Brunswick and into Maine. There they established a Swedish colony which still exists today.

Judith and her siblings spoke Swedish before starting school, then they learned English. Once in awhile one could detect a bit of a Swedish accent in Judith's speech even 90 years later.

In Judith's later years she moved down to this area of the state to live with Lynn and her family. That's when Ken and I got to know her well.

Judith could knit, sew, crochet, cook, and bake like no one else. Ken and I each have a pair of handknitted socks which Aunt Judith made for us one Christmas. Ken's are blue, mine are red.

Beyond Judith's loving personality, it was her Swedish cooking and baking which endeared her to so many. Each Christmas she made, among other specialties, rye bread, coffee bread, spritz, and inlagd sill.

The rye bread and cofffee bread probably need no explanation; the inlagd sill probably does. It's raw salt herring layered in a glass dish with onions, whole cloves and a vinegar/sugar sauce. Bay leaves and pepper are added for good measure, then the dish is refrigerated and dished into throughout the holiday season. Ken likes to make a batch of Judith's inlagd sill every Christmas. Believe it or not, it's delicious! (It's about time to order our 2 lbs. of salt herring from New Sweden, I just realized.)

It's Judith's spritz, however, which I enjoy making. Judith dictated the recipe to me, from memory, several years ago, and I've made a batch of them each Christmas since then.

Spritz require a cookie press. This isn't such a difficult contraption to use, really. Mine is the old style, which requires some slight muscle power to use. I noticed in a flyer yesterday, though, that there are now electric cookie presses. What'll they think of next?

You simply mix up the dough, fill the press's barrel, screw on the plunger, and make long lines of dough on the cookie sheet. Then you cut the dough into approximately 4" sections, form these into circles, and bake them.

Here's Judith's recipe for spritz:

Cream 1 lb. butter, 1 c. sugar, and 1 egg yolk. Judith was adamant that the egg's white should not be included, although some spritz recipes, I've noticed, do include it.

Cream together the butter, sugar, and egg yolk. Add 4 1/2 c. sifted flour and 2 t. almond extract.

Put dough into cookie press, form into circles on cookie sheet, and bake at 375° approximately 12 minutes. (Judith said 11 minutes, but I find my oven requires 13 minutes.) Bake until the cookies are just beginning to darken.

This recipe makes 10 dozen spritz. I made half a batch this past weekend and have them hidden away in the pantry so we'll stay out of them until Christmas.

Spritz are a delicate delight.

Aunt Judith died a few years ago, just before her 100th birthday. We miss her but remember her in so many good ways. Ken and I both realize we are fortunate to have known her.

This just in from my sister, who's a beginning knitter....

I don't know whether to laugh or cry for her:

"Okay, so I got up early to knit this morning. I put my extra yarn in my 19 stitches and was looking at the video to refresh my memory of how to add 3 stitches on the thumb when Coco [the cat] walked by, got her foot caught in my yarn, ran around the coffee table with the mitten and needles flying everywhere, into the dining room, around the table, around each chair, and out into the kitchen. Buzz caught her at the kitchen door, but by then I had a raveled mess. I thought I salvaged it, but my stitches don't make sense. I have to sit and breathe deeply for a bit, but I think I've got to start over again. Pity because I'd done so well on this one."

But what impresses me is the ending, where she doesn't say, "I give up."

Update: In a follow-up e-mail, my sister says the cat is now mad at her, blaming her because it got tangled in her knitting project. Sounds just like a cat.

I've been busily knitting sweaters for small rodents

Just kiddin'.

They're actually going to be tree ornaments, if I survive the ordeal of knitting them.

What tiny, hard-to-see, easy-to-tangle work.

I had grand plans of making at least a dozen little sweaters, so I could put some on gift packages, too, but these three have prit'near done me in.

Meanwhile, I'm trying hard to fire myself up for Christmas.

There was a time when I began addressing holiday cards the late afternoon of Thanksgiving. I Christmas shopped all year. I started my holiday baking in early November.

We threw a big party back in those days, too.

Now, just the thought of dragging boxes of ornaments from upstairs puts me in a funk.

I've had to put myself on a strict schedule of gift wrapping, one gift per day, in order to make the December 25 deadline.

I don't know if it's old age, a touch of Scrooge-ism, or what that's causing me to have a less-than-joyful attitude toward the season.

I do know some snow would help. Snow always puts me in a holiday mood. I hope we get some soon.

Another Thanksgiving

My sister Roberta and I take turns hosting the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. We've done this for years, since way back when her children were very small.

(I just realized this means we've been doing this for at least 35 years.)

This year it was my turn to do Thanksgiving dinner. For some reason, I always think of Thanksgiving dinner as being much more work than Christmas dinner.

That's a silly idea, of course, because both are a lot of work. Instead, it's important to be thankful that we can put on such lavish dinners.

And besides, I had much help from Roberta, her husband Buzz, and their son and his wife, Kevin and Rachel. Roberta brought a carrot side dish, a pumpkin pie, and the wine. Rachel brought cranberry creme brulée tarts and a sweet potato side dish.

The minute Miss V arrived, she settled right down to the coloring "assignment" I gave her. She takes her coloring very seriously. As she colored, she'd say, "Nana, What color do you think I will choose next?" If my sister replied, oh, let's say, "Red," Miss V would say, "Yes! That's right! I'm going to choose the red crayon next!"

Then she'd say, "Aunt Jean, Which color do you think I'm going to choose next?" I'd say, for instance, purple, and she'd exclaim, "Yes! That's right! I'm going to choose the purple crayon next."

She almost had us believing we were psychic, I swear.

My brother-in-law once again agreed to make the gravy. I can roast a turkey like no one's business, but oh, do I hate to make gravy. Buzz has kindly agreed to do this task for years.

Finally the food was ready and the seven of us sat down to eat. Today we have another Thanksgiving dinner under our expanding belts.

Day-after-Thanksgiving recipe

This is the dish I serve the day after Thanksgiving, for obvious reasons. It's quick and tasty. The only change I make is to leave out the curry powder, because I don't care for it.

Turkey Divan

1 pkg. frozen broccoli or asparagus

2-3 cups leftover turkey

1/2 cup stuffing mix

1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Sauce:

1 can cream of chicken soup

1/4 cup mayonnaise

1/4 cup milk

1/2 tsp. curry powder

1/2 tsp. lemon juice

Prepare vegetable according to package directions. Spread on bottom of greased 9X13 baking dish. Add turkey, cut into small pieces. Cover with sauce. Sprinkle stuffing over sauce, then sprinkle Parmesan cheese over the top. Bake at 350° for 30-40 minutes. Delicious served with rice.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Former student

Yesterday, at a concert, I ran into and sat with a former student who confided that she's 51-years-old.

Now how is that supposed to make ME feel? She was 14 the last I knew.

Geez.

Thinking Green

"All I ask is that one post be devoted to how you try to take care of the planet by living green and being more environmentally conscious. Do you recycle, eat more local foods, avoid plastic bags to name a few. Grab the award and link back to Rambling Woods."

Ken and I have been "green thinkers" for years. We shut off lights where they're not in use; we use low-energy bulbs; we recycle paper, plastic, aluminum, glass; we grow many of our own vegetables (although this summer's garden gets an "F.") we combine shopping trips so as to limit the number of times we need to be consuming gasoline; we chose our last new car (a Honda Accord) specifically because of its high mpg. I use the dishwasher and washing machines only when I have full loads; I hang clothes outside to dry when the weather cooperates. When the weather doesn't cooperate, I partially dry the laundry in the dryer, then finish the drying on a drying rack. Finally, we use canvas bags when we go shopping, and we put all food wastes into a compost bin.

I feel each of us on this earth has a right to a small share of its resources, but overuse, with no attention to how much we're using, is inexcusable in this day and age.

Fresh from the Department of Stupidity

True story: Yesterday a man in southern Maine walked into a store, filled out a job application, and dropped it into the application box. Then he noticed a money-collection jar on the counter, dashed into the restroom with it, emptied it, and returned it to the counter.

He neglected to notice the surveillance camera, apparently.

The police retrieved his job application from the box, noted his address, and promptly went to his residence and arrested him.

It's time to pack a shoe box

This is the week for dropping off shoe boxes filled with gifts for a deserving child in a less fortunate country.

Samaritan's Purse sponsors this project, called Operation Christmas Child, each November and designates times and places for dropping off the boxes.

I first learned about this project last year, from my niece Cheryl. I've had fun during the past few months selecting gift items as I've been out shopping. The box contains: soap, toothpaste, a tooth brush, a pencil box, pencils, markers, crayons, a small purse, a small calculator, a stuffed animal, a tablet, stickers, a bag of hard candy....

I've designated this box of small gifts for a girl five to seven years of age. I've enclosed a small note and a photo of Ken and me, to give the box a more personal touch. I've also enclosed a check for $7 to help defray shipping expenses.

This afternoon we'll take the box to a nearby church, and it will be sent somewhere in the world to a deserving child. I hope the gifts lighten her life a bit and let her know others care.

A thoughtful gesture, a major frustration, and (sob!) a death

The thoughtful gesture:

In August I gave my good teaching friend's daughter, M, a colorful Baby Surprise Jacket and matching hat when M's daughter was born. I'd hoped throughout M's pregnancy that the baby would be a girl because I'd chosen what I thought was rather feminine-looking yarn for the sweater and hat.

M, who's in her mid-twenties, promptly sent me a lovely thank-you note, saying she loved the sweater set and knew little E would love it, too.

Last weekend I received another note from M. Before opening it, I thought, "Oops. M must've forgotten she's already sent me a thank-you note."

I was wrong. This was, indeed, a second thank-you note, but enclosed was this photo of her baby daughter, E, wearing the outfit. M's note said the outfit fits perfectly and she just had to send me a photo to show me how cute baby E looks in it.

This was such a kind and thoughtful thing for M to do. I mean, she's a young mother, but yet she knew how pleased I'd be to see a photo of the sweater set being worn by her baby. And really, can anyone look at this photo without smiling?

I immediately fired off an e-mail to my teaching buddy, thanking her for raising her daughter to be so thoughtful and appreciative.

Second: A frustration.

I've finally mustered the courage to "open an Etsy shop," as they say. I registered for it on Sunday and spent the last four days convincing myself this was a good move and I just might sell some of my handknits and other little needlework items. I sat down this morning to post the first item (another Baby Surprise Jacket, it so happens), and discovered my photos of it are too large to be uploaded. I've tried everything I can think of to reduce the size of the photos, and nothing has worked. I've been able to get them down to 500 or so kb, or whatever it's called, but I can't seem to get them to the required maximum of just over 400. I'm at the end of my rope.

And last: I guess I spoke too soon when I wrote so glowingly of my beloved crock pot a few weeks ago. On Saturday I prepared a chicken and dumplings dish, placed it in the crock pot, waited a few minutes to feel the outside getting warm, felt nothing, jiggled the cord where it connects to the pot, felt no warmth, jiggled the cord where it connects to the outlet, felt no warmth, waited awhile, tried again, felt no warmth, waited....

After an hour of firmly believing the crock pot would heat up any minute now, I admitted defeat, removed the chicken mixture from it, got out another crock pot (which had been waiting in the wings for years, waiting for just such an event), placed the chicken mixture into it, gave my beloved red crock pot one final washing, and set it by the back door. I couldn't bear to take that final step of removing it from the house, though.

Yesterday I heard Ken pick it up and carry it into the garage, for disposal. End of an era. Rest well, my lovely. Thirty-five years of service isn't bad, but I'm gonna miss you.

Time to go look at the photo of Baby E again. That'll calm me down.

Simple (very simple) Fair Isle hats

I stumbled upon a quick and easy hat pattern the other day. I'd gone to the Knitting Pure & Simple website to see if perhaps the designer was offering a new sweater pattern that I'd want to knit. I love her patterns because they're neck-down knitting with no seams, if you can imagine such a thing. Also, her patterns are well written and easy to follow.

I didn't find a new sweater pattern, but I did notice she now offers a few free patterns. I do so love free patterns! The "Simple Fair Isle hat" caught my eye because it's so colorful. What a neat way to use up bits of leftover yarns.

It really is a simple pattern: You just cast on 80 stitches, knit most rows but purl a few, and do a "double decrease," which isn't complicated, to knit the top of the hat.

So I've been cranking out Simple Fair Isle hats since last Saturday. I've used various combinations of colors of wool yarns, and I've experimented with needle sizes 7 through 9. Oh, and I've used both worsted and heavy worsted weight yarns.

Just thought I'd share this find with anyone out there who loves knitting and has plenty of leftover wool yarns that they don't know what to do with.

The Pioneer Woman Doesn't Disappoint

Are you familiar with The Pioneer Woman? I love her recipes and have tried many of them in the past couple of years or more. I've never tried one that wasn't a hit.

On Sunday we celebrated four birthdays here: for a 4-year-old, a 41-year-old, a 43-year-old, and a (a-hem) 64-year-old.

I'd found a recipe from The Pioneer Woman weeks ago and decided it looked quick, easy, and tasty. These are my three requirements when I'm preparing a meal for guests. There's nothing I dislike more than being trapped in the kitchen while everyone else is relaxing and having fun in the livingroom.

Early in the morning I prepared the sauce for the Spaghetti with Artichoke Hearts and Tomatoes, so that saved me even more time when the guests arrived.

I decided, however, to go back to The Pioneer Woman's website one more time, after the sauce was made, to make sure she hadn't included a vital tip in her narration that she had left out of the recipe itself. I should know by now she wouldn't do such a thing, but anyway....

When I went back to her site, what should greet me but another irresistable-sounding recipe: Buttery Rosemany Rolls. Before I could say, "The guests will be here in less than two hours," my bread machine was set up on the kitchen counter, cranking away at the dough for the rosemary rolls.

What intrigued me about the rolls is that they're baked in a cast iron skillet. I happen to LOVE my cast iron skillet (and my cast iron Dutch oven), so any excuse to use it is enticement enough.

I knew the meal was a hit when Miss V, the 4-year-old, said as she ate her Spaghetti with Artichoke Hearts and Tomatoes, "This is yummy."

A four-year-old liking something other than macaroni and cheese? Amazing.

It's official!

We're knee-deep in fall around here.

Yesterday I took a walk around our lawns and gardens to see what had happened since the last time I'd been out there. I allow myself to become practically a hermit as fall and winter arrive, I'm afraid. Once the snow arrives and becomes deep, I can't walk around the outside of the house anymore anyway, until spring.

I do go for my daily walk, but I tend to turn my back on my flower gardens and all but forget they're even there.

Our burning bush, seen in the background of the header photo, is "ablaze." I think this is its most spectacular showing yet. And the flowering crabapple tree, in the foreground, is heavy with berries. These will become good eating for various birds this winter, especially the cedar waxwings, which enjoy getting drunk on the fermented berries.

Yesterday our lawns were covered deeply with fallen leaves. It's a good thing I happened to take my stroll and get these photos of the leaves in the morning, because in the afternoon I heard the sound of Ken's little garden tractor approaching and realized he had the big lawn vacuum attached. He was madly sucking up leaves, or actually the vacuum attachment was.
If it's any consolation to him, though, the wind and rain in the night have put a new blanket of leaves on our lawns.

I was pleased to see so many berries on the holly bush. We've had our holly bushes, one male and one female (or a "prince" and a "princess", about four years, and this is the best year for berries on the female. Good going, girl! Good job with the pollination, guy!

This small hydrangea came into bloom in mid summer, and it's been fun to watch the colors of the blossom change from a pale blue to a dark indigo to now, a rather antique-looking violet. Its leaves to the left of the blossom are taking on new colors, too: from green to yellow and now red-leaning-towards-purple.

This is what's left of one of my Jack-in-the-pulpits. Just beautiful red berries. Last spring after I'd counted four or five "Jacks" around our foundation, Ken spotted at least a hundred of them growing to the left of his workshop, in an area that he has started mowing each fall but which had been ignored for years. So then I went out behind his workshop and found a few more Jacks growing in the woods. We live in Jackk-in-the-pulpit country, apparently.

And finally, my shasta daisies haven't received the memo, I guess. They're still blooming away despite the cold temperatures.

Earlier this past week I emptied out all the flower pots and put them away and removed ornaments from the flower gardens. Today Ken removed our window screens and put on the storm doors.

It's time to batten the hatches and await another Maine winter.

Back to Lake Winnipesaukee

After driving through the Lake Winnipesaukee, NH, area on my way to Vermont a couple of weeks ago, I was itching to go back to the Lake area on a day when I could spend some time.

I told Ken I'd like to see more of that area again, so that's just what we did last Thursday.

The Lake Winnipesaukee area is only 90 minutes from our home, so it's not a long drive.

It was an overcast, rather raw, day, but we didn't let that dampen our spirits.

We went first to Meredith. There we browsed in several shops at the Inn at Mill Falls. We've stayed at this inn many times, but it's always been in winter and several of the shops have been closed. Last Thursday, however, they were open.

After we'd had enough of shopping...or Ken had had enough...we decided it was time for lunch. Guiseppe's, on the ground floor of the Inn, proved to be a good choice. (Italian restaurants seldom disappoint me.) We each ordered the chicken Caesar wrap, which was delicious.

Now it was time for one of the highlights of the trip: A stop at Patternworks yarn shop in Center Harbor, just a few miles east of Meredith. I'd heard of this shop many times but had never visited it. It's a good thing it had been pointed out to me as we drove past it a week earlier, because I never would have spotted it on my own. A very small sign says, simply, "Patternworks," with no mention of its being a yarn shop. The shop's name sounds more like that of a fabric store, I think.

Anyway, we arrived at Patternworks, my pulse racing as it always does when a yarn shop is nearby. Ken said he'd sit in the car and relax while I went to ogle the yarns. I assured him I'd be gone only fifteen minutes.

Forty-five minutes later I emerged from Patternworks carrying my purchases: three skeins of yarn (two of them for a Baby Surprise Jacket, one simply because it's a beautiful tweed that will look great as a hat or mittens) and a pattern book of ladies' sweaters.

So. That need was satisfied, and we headed home.

Along the way, however, we decided to stop at The Old Country Store in Moultonborough, NH. It's a good thing Lynn, Jackie, and I didn't stop there on our trip to VT the previous week, or we'd still be in there browsing. The store is truly an old country store, complete with large barrels of pickles, penny candy, kitchen gadgets, clothings, toys, pottery, stationery, candles, bath soaps and lotions, wrought iron items, cheese,...You get the idea.

Ken gravitated to the tools, of course, while I flitted from one area to another. The thing about this place is that the outside is deceiving: It looks like a moderately-sized store, but once you're inside you realize one room leads to another and another and another.

After a good browse and a stop at their penny candy counter for a little sustenance for the drive home, we left.

It was a good day in the Lake Winnipesaukee area. Now I want to go back again soon.

Vermont Hospitality

Bright and early (6:00) yesterday morning, two friends and I began our drive to Fairlee, Vermont, to attend an Alpha Delta Kappa Tri-state (ME, NH, VT) Conference. I was the designated driver, and Lynn served as co-pilot. Jackie, in the back seat, served as our vital support system.

Most of the long-distance driving in this household is done by Ken, so I'm always a bit nervous to set out in the car and travel hitherto untraveled roads. Or at least roads never before driven by me.

I printed out our driving route at Mapquest and learned the drive would take two hours, 58 minutes. Lynn and I rendezvoused with Jackie in Cornish, ME, at precisely 6:30. We were off.

After we'd traveled Route 25 for about an hour, we came to Meredith, NH. This is a beautiful town on the northwest shore of Lake Winnipesaukee. My header photo, in fact, was taken of the lake yesterday at 7:30 a.m. The fog rising off the lake was eerie and beautiful. (Ken and I used to visit Meredith every summer, but we haven't been back there in years. That's something we need to do soon.)

After my brief photo stop, we continued on to Vermont. Lynn gave the directions from the Mapquest printout: Take a right onto I-93, go 11 miles, take a left onto__, go 11 miles; now take another left, go 11 miles. None of the three of us could figure out why each distance after turning seemed to be eleven miles, but there you have it.

We crossed the Connecticut River into Fairlee, VT, around 8:30 a.m. This came as a surprise to us, since we'd fully expected to arrive in Fairless around 9:00-9:30 a.m. What to do?

Since we were three females who'd sat in a car for 2 1/2 hours, the first order of business was, of course, to find a rest room. I pulled into a convenience store parking lot, dashed inside, and asked the kind girl behind the counter if they had a public restroom. "Sure," she said. "Go to the back, to the door on the left."

I motioned through the front window for Lynn and Jackie to some inside because I'd struck gold. They arrived, and the three of us made use of the "facilities," which were clearly not intended for public use unless the member of the public makes a request with a look of terror and urgency on her face.

While waiting for all three of us to be ready to leave for Lake Morey Resort, I asked the clerk if there were any gift shops open or something of that persuasion. We needed to kill time before heading to the conference, which would start at 9:30.

Just as I asked the question, into the convenience store came one of Fairlee's residents, a very friendly lady of perhaps 60.

She heard me inquire about gift shops, so she dashed over to now the three of us and said, "Oh, you must go to Chapman's!"

We asked where it was, and she pointed up the street, saying, "See? You can see the sign from here."

We then wondered if it would be open at this early hour. "Oh, sure," she replied.

We thanked her and drove the short distance up the street to Chapman's.

What a gold mine! It's a lovely gift shop full of jewelry, handmade Vermont candy, toys, cards, you name it.

Jackie chose a necklace; Lynn chose a bracelet; I chose a bracelet.

As we were browsing, the local customer from the convenience store walked in. "I've thought of another place you should visit if you have time," she said. She then went on to describe a gift shop about twenty minutes away. By this time, though, it was getting close to 9:30 and we knew we'd better hustle to the Lake Morey Resort. We had, after all, come to Vermont for a conference.

We were touched by the hospitality of this lady. She'd gone out of her way to help us have a good time in Fairlee. And we did just that.

I (heart) my crock pot, Final chapter

This is another great recipe from allrecipes.com. I find that when I'm searching for just the right recipe, allrecipes.com always comes through for me. I've made this recipe for baby back ribs many times, and aside from once when I severely overcooked them, they've always come out perfectly. (They were still delicious the time I overcooked them, but they fell off the bone before getting to our mouths. Very messy.)

Baby Back Ribs

2 1/2 lbs. pork baby back ribs, cut into serving size pieces

5 c. water

1 medium onion, sliced

2 celery ribs, cut in half

2 t. minced garlic, divided

1 t. peppercorns

1/2 c. barbecue sauce

1/4 c. plum sauce

1 dash hot pepper sauce

1. Place ribs in 5-qt. slow cooker (crock pot). Add water, onion, celery, 1 t. garlic, and peppercorns. Cover and cook on low 6 hours or until meat is tender.

2. In small saucepan, combine barbecue sauce, plum sauce, hot pepper sauce, and remaining garlic. Cook and stir over medium heat for 5 minutes or until heated through. Remove ribs from slow cooker. Discard cooking juices and vegetables

3. Coat grill rack with nonstick cooking spray before starting the grill. Brush ribs with sauce. Grill, uncovered, over med-low heat for 6-10 minutes or until browned, turning occasionally and brushing with remaining sauce.

Confession: All I've done is follow this recipe to the end of step 1. Then I slather the ribs with some barbecue sauce and serve 'em then and there!

I (heart) my crock pot, Part IV

Today's recipe isn't quite as quick and easy as yesterday's, but it's still quick and easy. In fact, I just threw this into my crock pot about five minutes ago.

New England Pot Roast

In gallon-size plastic bag, mix 1/4 c. flour, 1 T. salt, and 1/2 t. pepper. Place pot roast in bag and shake to cover it well with the flour mixture. Heat 2 T. oil in skillet; brown roast on all sides.

Pare and quarter 2-3 potatoes, 2-3 carrots, and 1-2 onions.

Put vegetables in bottom of crock pot. Place browned roast on top of vegetables. Spread 1 T. horseradish on top of roast. Add 1/2 c. water to crock pot.

Cover and cook on low 10-12 hours. (Or cook on high 4-5 hours)

Remove meat and vegetables with spatula.

(This recipe comes from the little recipe booklet that accompanied my crock pot when purchased in 1974. In the introduction, the crock pot, which "cooks all day while the cook's away," is referred to as a "revolutionary slow cooker.")

I (heart) my crock pot, Part III

Today's crock pot recipe is so quick and easy that even my dog could make it, if I allowed her on my counter. But I don't. Not that she hasn't tried.

Pork Chops Abracadabra

Brown pork chops in fry pan; season with salt and pepper.

Place browned chops in crock pot. Pour one can cream of mushroom or cream of chicken soup over chops.

Cook on low 7-9 hours. Ummm-um good.

I like to serve these chops with whipped potatoes, because the gravy formed in the crock pot is yummy on whipped potatoes.

I (heart) my crock pot, Part II

In honor of my beloved but old and worn-looking crock pot, here's another favorite recipe. It comes from allrecipes.com.

This recipe makes 20 servings, which would feed a small army (or Ken and me for weeks), so I par it down to make 4-5 servings. In other words, I cut everything by approximately 1/4.

Pasta e Fagioli

3 lbs. lean ground beef

1/2 c. olive oil

4 c. chopped onion

2 c. chopped celery

2 (4.5 oz.) jars minced garlic (I always use fresh garlic, 3-4 cloves)

1 t. coarsely ground black pepper

8 (14.5 oz) cans beef consommé (I use beef bouillon and water)

1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes

1 6 oz. can tomato paste (I use 1 T. tomato paste and freeze the remaining paste in 1 T. "globs" in a plastic bag for later use.)

2 1/2 t. dried thyme

2 1/2 t. dried basil

2 1/2 t. dried oregano

2 T. dried parsley

2 15 oz. cans kidney beans, drained and rinsed

2 c. ditalini pasta

1. In fry pan, cook beef, onions, celery, and garlic until beef is no longer pink.

2. Put beef mixture into crock pot.

3. Add pepper, beef bouillon, water, tomatoes, tomato paste, thyme, basil, oregano, parsley and kidney beans. Stir.

4. Set crock pot to low. Cook for 6 hours.

5. Stir in pasta and cook on high for 30 minutes or until pasta is al dente.

Enjoy!

I (heart) my crock pot

I love my crock pot. I know it looks old and well used, but that's only because it's old and well used. I bought it in 1974, and it has been my steady assistant for thirty-five years. I get it out every fall and use it from then until spring.

Since it's so old, I do worry that it'll some day die. It's hard to even contemplate the possibility. I saw an identical one, even red, at a yard sale a few years ago and kicked myself afterwards for not buying it. For a mere $5 I could have had a back-up crock pot for when this one quits. I think this one was $14.99, or maybe $19.99. I'm sure it wasn't over $20.

It's great for making beef stew, a pot roast, spaghetti sauce, mulled cider,....

Here's a great soup recipe I made in my beloved crock pot this past weekend.

Taco Soup

1 lg. can crushed tomatoes

1 15 oz. can kidney beans, undrained

1 15 oz. can black beans, undrained

1 can corn, undrained

1 lb. hamburg, browned

1 onion, diced and sautéed

1 envelope Hidden Valley Ranch dressing mix

1 envelope taco seasoning

Put all ingredients into crock pot on high for about six hours.

Serve with Mexican cheese, sour cream, and tortilla chips.

(I have to admit that when my friend gave me this soup recipe last year, it didn't sound appealing. I love tacos, but taco soup??? I decided to give it a try, and Ken and I both love it.)

I made a photo book....

I decided before we left for Hawaii that I'd make a photo book for Jim and Lynn when we returned home. This was a special trip for them, and I wanted to commemorate it in a special memento.

I'd seen two photo books before my attempt at making one: One was of a family reunion weekend, and the other was of a wedding. These books looked so much more "intimate" and meaningful than a formal album does. At the same time, a photo book looks more "put together" than a typical photo album.

So while we were traveling, I tried to snap several candid photos of Jim and Lynn as they enjoyed their Hawaiian adventures.
Once home, it was time for me to get to work. Boy, was this ever a learning experience.

I chose to make the book at Shutterfly simply because I'd seen a Shutterfly photo book and thought the quality looked good. (Oh, also Shutterfly was having a "free shipping" special and, at the same time, was offering 20% off on all photo book orders. That did it for me.)

It was fun to "paste" photos into the layouts I chose for the various pages. The challenge, though, was to word the captions efficiently, because the space given for the caption was quite deceiving: I couldn't tell at what point the various captions would be "cut off" when they appeared on the actual photo pages.

Then there was the problem that came from removing photos, replacing them with new ones, and forgetting to change the original caption.

I plugged away at this project for several days, until I reached a point where I couldn't bear to look at it any more. So I clicked on "Place order" and hoped for the best.

I knew the photo book would arrive via UPS five days after I submitted the order. I was so worried about the final product that I couldn't bear to go back to the Shutterfly website and review the book.
Finally the photo book arrived. I was shocked at how lightweight it was. I'd chosen a leather cover with 22 pages. I thought that sounded like a substantial book. If I had it to do over again, I'd make it a 40-page book.

As I browsed through the finished product, I did find two errors, which are nagging at me still: I put an incorrect caption with one photo, and one of my captions got cut off mid-sentence. I constantly remind myself of these errors when I think of the finished book.

But still, I did learn a lot about the process with this first attempt, and I'd definitely make another photo book. It was fun to see Jim and Lynn look through the book and reminisce about our adventure together. I think they appreciate the book despite my two boo-boos.

And I'm hoping that anyone else who looks through the book won't see the errors anyway. So there. That's that. Back to my knitting.