Progress Report #3...and more snow

I'm making progress on the Aran cardigan for myself, but it's slow progress. To think I originally planned to knit this in one month! Now I understand why Aran handknit sweaters are outrageously expensive. I've got approximately 70-80 hours into this one, if I figure I knit 2-3 hours a day (which is a fair estimate), and I've still got the other front half and two sleeves to go. It's maybe half done. I'm still enjoying the knitting, but I'm dreaming of taking on a small project, such as a pair of socks, once this project is behind me.

The storm in the Northeast yesterday didn't amount to much for us here in southern Maine. We got maybe 10" of fresh snow. It's darned pretty, though, and I'm eager to get out for my morning walk in it. Here Ken is snowblowing the driveway, a time-consuming task. He says our snowstorms this winter, so far, have been the light, dry variety, so that makes it easier to snowblow the stuff.

Let's Hear It for Bakewell Biscuits

If you like freshly-baked biscuits, then you'll love Bakewell biscuits.

(First a disclaimer, however: I do not own the Bakewell Cream company, own stock in the company, work for the company, or know anyone who works for the company.) Bakewell Cream is made here in Maine, up the coast in Winterport, to be exact, by the New England Cupboard. Mainers have kept a can of Bakewell Cream in their cupboards since the 1940's.  If you click on this link, be prepared to spend some time at The Yankee Grocery site. Lots of good recipes, etc., there.

I simply like the biscuits that result from using Bakewell Cream and following the recipe for biscuits on the Bakewell can.

I just took a fresh batch of Bakewell biscuits from the oven and thought you might enjoy looking at them and seeing for yourself how light and fluffy they are. I've never known the recipe to fail. Trust me, they're tasty, too.

As you can see, I add a sinful little dab of butter to the top of each biscuit before popping them into the oven. The Bakewell recipe used to call for the dab of butter; now it leaves out that step, but I persist in adding the butter. 

I repeat: If you like freshly-baked biscuits, then you'll love Bakewell biscuits.

A Morning of Cross-country Skiing

Yesterday was a perfect day for our annual trip to Jackson, NH, for some cross-country skiing on their beautifully groomed trails. So that's just what we did. We left the house at 7:30 a.m. and were on the trails by 9:00.

We've been going up to the Jackson Ski Touring Center at least once each winter for many years. When we first started going there, the Center's facilities were rudimentary, at best, and the trails (over 140 km  of them around the village) were not as user-friendly or nicely groomed. The Center has come a long way since then.

We always take the scenic Ellis River Trail and ski for perhaps five or six miles. It's a great workout, most of the hills are gentle, and yesterday the snow conditions were perfect because of the cold temperatures.

Here we're about to start the loop back to the village. There are some great runs on the journey back.

 

I got a kick out of this outhouse: It's called the Jackson Hole. There's a warming hut across the trail from the outhouse, but we've never stopped to warm up here. We're too eager to continue on the trail.

 

The covered bridge enables skiers to cross the rather busy highway. We used to cross by skiing through an underground tunnel.

 

Jackson is a pretty little village. Here is the covered bridge leading into town. Actually we were headed home when I snapped this picture. We looked to see if its year of construction was displayed but didn't find it. A sign designates it as "Bridge No. 51." A google search of "New Hampshire's covered bridges" quickly revealed that Bridge No. 51 was built in 1876.

We concluded our visit to NH with lunch at our usual spot, Delaney's, then a stop at the new LL Bean outlet store. It was a good day all 'round.

The Day After

This post is beautifully written. It says what I've wanted to say but for which I couldn't find the words.

And here's a nuthatch for you. My New Brunswick grandfather called these birds "ass-ups," for obvious reasons.

Inauguration Day

"Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and begin again the work of remaking America."

...and even the pileated woodpecker stopped by today to peek through our living room window and watch the inauguration of President Barack Obama. (I love saying "President Barack Obama"!)

Snowstorm and visitors

We're getting a heavy snowstorm here in Maine today (Ken says we have 8-10" so far, and it's still coming down to beat the band).

My bird feeders are especially popular on stormy days, and the front yard has been abuzz with activity.

We've seen the usual visitors: cardinals, juncos, goldfinches, bluejays, nuthatches, but we were shocked to see a flock of robins perched in the crabapple tree and the burning bush. I think they were enjoying the berries on each.

I guess robins in winter aren't that unusual, but they're unusual for us. I read online, though, that a robin's internal temperature is 105°, despite its being in the teens and twenties outside.

Here are some rather eerie photos of the robins, taken through the pelting snowstorm, and one of my ever-faithful cardinal. That's a junco perched on a branch beneath the cardinal, in our bridal wreath.

Of birds and hyphenation

I got all excited yesterday afternoon when this woodpecker appeared at the feeder. I'd never before seen this particular species in our yard. My pulse quickened. I consulted my trusty A Guide to Field Identification Birds of North America. 

Ah ha! It looked to be a Ladder-backed Woodpecker. Only problem was, Ladder-backs are  indigenous to Mexico, and they're non-migratory.

That didn't stop me. I was convinced this was a female Ladder-back. It had all the required features: red spot at base of beak, well-defined red "hat," striped back, buff-colored belly. Yes, this must be a Ladderback.

I pictured the press beating down my door. I pictured the bird and me featured on the front page of tomorrow's paper. I pictured fame. I pictured glory.

Then I decided I'd better contact the Maine Audubon Society. They'd want to know a bird native to Mexico had not only come to Maine, had not only come to my yard, but had done so during the coldest temperatures known to Maine in the past five years. This was truly remarkable.

I sent an e-mail to Maine Audubon. A nice gentleman replied immediately, saying Ladderbacks live in Mexico and do not migrate. I knew this already, but I figured I'd give him the shock of his life when my sighting was confirmed. He tried to tell me the woodpecker was likely a hairy or a downy. I knew he was wrong: we have those at the feeders constantly, and I know 'em when I see 'em.

I told the Audubon gentleman that I could send photos of the bird. He said he's like to see them.

Then he sent this response:  Ah ha! It is a female Red-bellied Woodpecker! Normally a more southerly species, hundreds of Red-bellied Woodpeckers migrated into Maine late this fall. It is not clear why, but reduced acorn crop to our south a lot of people are suggesting. Good bird for Maine, uncommon but increasingly less so.

So that's that. No picture in the newspaper, but a darned pretty bird, just the same. She's been back at the feeder again this morning.

But here's the part that really amazes me: The Audubon guy knows that when a compound proper noun is hyphenated (e.g., Red-bellied), only the first word of the two is capitalized. That blows my socks off.