Bulbs

I planted the last of the bulbs, about 25 species crocus of assorted colors, next to the front sidewalk today. I had to bruch aside the snow and then leaves but the soil was warm and crumbly.

Babushka

Babushki of the Revolution
If you are having a hard time understanding the situation in the Ukraine, or if you are relying solely on mainstream media for your understanding, check out Tulip Girl's November 27th entry. I've been reading her for some time now, drawn in by her passion for life - family, homelife, infant care, spirituality. Then she finds herself living in the Ukraine during this political upheaval and blogging about both the human and political perspective.

Christmas Tree

Christmas Tree
One of our holiday traditions is to cut our Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving from the 25 scotch pines we planted at our tree farm for just this purpose. The first year it was a wee spindly tree, but the last several years, the trees have been gorgeous. This year it is huge, perhaps 12 feet tall. It only fits in the enclosed front porch which has a high ceiling. The males in the house wrestled it into our standard-sized tree stand and we started putting lights on it last night. The tree fell over several times, so now there is a hook in the ceiling with a cord holding the tree upright. It works for me, just don't look too close. The mini lights look ridiculous on the huge tree, so we invested in some larger lights today. I also bought a dozen very large golden bulbs because I know my ornaments are going to get lost on it. When I got back from the store today the twins had hung the lighted window/lawn decorations on the tree (candy canes, star, Rudolph) and it looks just fine.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving
I just talked to Mom on the phone and she reminded me that it's been about a week since I posted anything, so here it is. Thanksgiving was at my sister' home. Peg and I take turns hosting the holidays. This year she has Thanksgiving, I have Christmas, she has Easter and then I have Thanksgiving next year. Meanwhile the three brothers have parties in the summer and I have my fall river party. Sprinkled in between are special events such as graduations and birthdays. I am so blessed to have a family that enjoys each other's company. When I was in my early 30s, I had dinner for my family before we went to the theater. I didn't remember my roommate's remark, but my Mom did, "Does your family always have so much fun?" Yes, we do. What a legacy from my parents and grandparents.

The whole family usually goes for a long walk after we eat, but with several inches of wet snow on the ground, we had a raucous snowball fight. I was an observer along with my niece Jennifer, until we were walking back to the house and I nailed her with a snowball. She sputtered, "but, but I'm wearing a skirt!" and then proceeded to pummel her sister with snowballs. Jon, my 12-year- old great nephew, came in last, soaking wet and asked each person in turn, "Who was the super star today?" Of course, he was.

My contributions to the meal were homemade yeast rolls, our family's traditional cranberry nut bread, broccoli health salad (totally misleading name with the bacon and mayo), and my special spinach (baked in a bechamel sauce with onions and Parmesan cheese.) Last night I cooked noodles, added the leftover spinach and ham and baked it for dinner. Yum. Here's the cranberry bread recipe:

Cranberry Nut Bread
Sift together:
2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1-1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt

Combine juice and zest of one orange, 2 tsp. melted butter and enough water
to make 3/4 cup all together. Add one well-beaten egg. Blend dry
ingredients and liquids just enough to dampen all.

Add 1/2 to 1 cup chopped nuts and 1 cup raw cranberries, washed, dried and
cut in half. Pour into greased loaf pan and bake 350 degrees for 60-70 minutes.

Close to the Earth

Close to The Good Earth
Sunday evening I tackled the ivy again. One square yard to go but it is the last remnant of the landscaping that came with the house: black plastic covered with large stones and 20 years of accumulated top soil overgrown with English ivy. Three five-gallon buckets of stones so far, but I was interrupted when Sam, our yellow lab, sensed a deer in the field and bolted over the fence to protect his territory. I followed, not through the fence opening, but through the path the dog has worn and over the wire fence he smashed down to about 18 inches. Deer in the distance hesitates and looks at Sam who hesitates and looks at me, trying to decide whether to obey me or the primal urge to track the animal. He decides to obey me but not wanting to give me too much pleasure in his behavior, he meanders around the field sniffing. Meanwhile I find THE PERFECT FIELDSTONE to add to my collection for that far distant day when I build a fieldstone retaining wall. It is almost past dusk now and I pick up the stone, call Sam and trundle back to the house, through the dog path and not quite over the wire fence.

Time slows as my body creates ever smaller acute angles with the ground. I have enough time to lift the field stone over my head so my face won't smash into it. Contact. Face buried in soft forest duff. Right hand resting on a rotting stump. Left hand awkwardly wrapped around the field stone. Ok. Take stock. I'm breathing. I can wiggle my toes. Boys are in house electronically engaged. Hubby is studying at the Boys Club. I will just lay here until they miss me. Sam comes over to check me out and starts nudging/licking my face. Better take action. Get up. Stumble into the house. Ron's eyes get big at his moaning, dirt covered mother whose shirt is ripped down the sleeve. He leads me to the bathroom to clean my wounds, gets me an ice pack and proceeds to fix supper. Rick covers me with blankets, brings me a glass of OJ and finds my book for me. Hubby gets home and, after ascertaining my injuries are not serious (severely strained left thumb and backache), inquires, "Help me understand. It is dark. You are carrying a heavy stone. You come up to the fence and stop. Lift one leg over and then the other leg over."

In small voice I answer, "Nooo I'm striding back to the house and totally forget about the fence."

Titles
Ron spent the weekend at a regional Campus Life high school event called "Go Mad 2004." He ran the first two words together every time he said it and I giggled to myself. Try it.

I just started subscribing to Better Homes and Gardens and the first issue I received had an article titled, "The Pie That Binds." No thank you.

Show Choir Fall Preview

Show Choir Fall Preview
Ricky made his debut last night, as did his cousin Caecilia, with a Gershwin medley. It was beautiful. The joy in Ricky’s face, a grin that wouldn’t stop and sparkling eyes, was evident to all based on comments after the performance. This happened in the 7th grade talent contest, when he sang acapello “Down in the River to Pray” from “Oh Brother Where Art Thou” and we locked eyes, the joy escalating between us until all else faded away and he was just singing to his Mama. I had to look away, afraid he would float off the stage – which of course would make him lose his place!

Morgan, his three-year-old cousin, sat behind us last night and her father told me that she pointed to Ricky on stage and then pointed to me several times. Then in the "meet and greet" time after the concert, Caleb, her 18 month old brother, became enamored of kissing my mom, his great-grandmother. With a serious little boy face, he leaned to her for a kiss about twenty times. My sister and I couldn’t stop laughing.

The highlight of Ricky’s night was the "meet and greet". Dressed in a white tux, it was a time when this freshman man-boy could hug and kiss all the pretty Show Choir girls in congratulations. When he got in the car to go home (after a mild argument “No, you cannot ride with the senior boys to the Mexican restaurant.”) he asked me, with a big grin, “Do I have lipstick on my face?”

Last Bouquet?

Latest Additions to Fall Bouquet
Yesterday I added a viola (purple and light yellow blooms) and another sprig of purple veronica to the dining room bouquet. These are the latest blooms; are they the last blooms?

Update on Ivy
As I spent five hours yesterday grubbing up the English ivy, I kept muttering about the fool who said, "Well begun is half done." Ha! That person never tried to clear a bed of forty years of ivy. I figure I have about five more hours to get the roots dug up.

Accident Update

Our Litigious Society
I had an accident last week and so far I've received four (!) letters from personal injury lawyers. One lawyer strongly recommended that I go to the doctor even if I did not have any evident injuries. One included a business card that looked like a credit card. One gave some good advice (reminder to file form with state) before soliciting my business. The one I received yesterday was from Indianapolis! No wonder Alan (my friend who pulled out in front of me) said he was so glad that if he had to cause an accident, he was so glad it was someone nice like me.

Third Day

Yesterday I wondered what today would bring. I walked out onto the back deck just in time to see a great blue heron fly out of the pond with a six inch fish in his mouth. He flew through the woods, dodging trees, turned around in a clearing and flew over my head. Losing a game fish was a lot less traumatic for me than when a heron ate the prized pet kois from my friend's pond earlier this year.

Sandhill Cranes

Sandhill Cranes
Steve just called me outside to listen to the sandhill cranes as they regrouped in the woods behind the house. What an unusual call -- warbling? yodeling?

Last night - northern lights. Tonight - sandhill cranes. Wonder what tomorrow will bring?

Weekend
We saw the aurora borealis last night, thanks to the heads-up phone call from my sister. As we were watching the dancing sky, I said, "Now all we need is a shooting star." Less than two minutes later, a huge star shot across the sky.

The first hard frost withered my garden last night...at last. I kept picking what I thought was the last bouquet of the season. Last week was tansy, hyrdrangea and black-eyed susan. Yesterday, rosebuds, dark blue veronica, cosmos, foxglove and a large white fringed dahlia. The bittersweet in the woods is glowing so that will be what I gather next to bring the outside in.

Saturday both boys had all day classes. Ron went to a daylong Hapkido seminar taught by Master West and Ricky had a daylong show choir rehearsal with guest choreographers in preparation of the first show next weekend. Yesterday we cleaned out the shed and garage, preparing for winter. Ron brought down all the Christmas decorations from the attic (decorating the house for each season is his thing), but we wouldn't let him start decorating. That is a Thanksgiving weekend tradition for our family.

Election Day Accident
No, I didn't hit the wrong button. I double-checked. But voting was delayed from early morning until early afternoon.

The fog came in quickly this morning, too late for a school delay. So as I was running Ricky to the high school for early basketball practice, we drove by the middle school which is a voting site. The stream of cars in front of me all were turning right into the school but I was going straight. I slowed down as the car in front of me turned and then slammed on my brakes as someone pulled in front of me turning left. I had about ten feet to stop. I was not successful.

Check Rick. He's wide-eyed but fine. Call 911. Call Steve. Check other driver. It's Alan! I know him. A former co-worker and fellow Master Gardener. He's in severe pain, but gracious as usual. EMTs load him on back board and take him away. My prayers go with him, as he has a hip and back that occasionally require him to use a cane (although he's only in his 40s). Steve takes Rick to school. Tow truck comes and hauls away vehicles. Cops leave. Steve picks me up and takes me home. Iron pants and shirt for Steve and then clean the house.

A few minutes ago, Steve said you don't look so hot. Actually I feel like H-E-double toothpicks. (Radarism via Little A) So I'm off to bed. I'm a little sore. I called Alan this afternoon and he will be fine.

The other insurance company called this afternoon and suggested that I have my insurance company pay the damages and then subrogate the claim. ha! I was in the insurance business and I know better.

I Would Have Won
I took Ron to the Halloween party at the martial arts studio tonight. I was not in costume, but I told him I was going to sign up for the costume contest as a middle-aged woman. You had to act out your costume and I was going to walk across the stage: fan face "Is it hot in here?" wipe brow "Or is it just me" flutter bottom of blouse "I'm sweating." blow down front of blouse.

Even without telling him my vignetter, he was aghast at the thought.

A word for younger women reading my blog: PMS is nothing. It's just getting you prepared for the next stage.

Bringing in the Pots

Bringing in the Pots
Yesterday I tackled my outdoor containers. Every year I try to overwinter the unusual (and overpriced) annuals that I can't resist in the spring. I'm usually not sucessful, but it doesn't keep me from trying. Eternally optimistic, I am. So I started some leaf cuttings as well as trimming back plants and bringing the pots into the heated, enclosed front porch. It's starting to look like a jungle, but I love it.

Can you believe that the tender tubers cannot yet be lifted? The dahlias are still blooming.

Bouquets

Spring Bouquet for Halloween
It has been very warm this fall and some spring flowers are blooming. I picked a bouquet yesterday of the last of petunias combine with the annual Pentas. The forecast today is in the 70s so I'm waiting to pick the rest of the flowers to give them a chance to blossom out some more. Forsythia. Forget-me-nots. Foxglove. Hydrangea (one small bloom). Roses. Bells of Heaven. Daylilies. Of course, the cosmos and black-eyed Susans are still blooming.

Raisin Brownies

Brownies
Tulip Girl asked for a brownie recipe that uses cocoa, no baking powder and white sugar because certain ingredients are difficult to obtain in the Ukraine. I thought of Aunt Joan's Raisin Brownies immediately. They are super moist, not chewy, melt-in-your mouth chocolately goodness.

Raisin Brownies
1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup flour
3 Tbs. cocoa
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp vanilla
2/3 cup raisins (or 1/2 cup nuts or nothing)

Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs and mix well. Combine dry ingredients and add. Add vanilla and raisins. Pour into an 8 inch square pan, greased and floured. Bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes. Dust with powdered sugar while warm.

2005 Books

Book Ideas
After several years, my book club has refined how we choose the books we read and discuss. Everyone submits three books, we vote on one book from each person, and vote for three books at large from the remaining books. If you are a reader, you may be interested in the recommendations. As usual there are several books that I will read whether they are selected or not and there are several books that I'm not interested in at all.

Ivy Update
With the English ivy partially dug out of the driveway bed, I'm now wondering why I ever wanted to do this. Some of the stems are an inch across and I am having to use a heavy mattock to dig the roots out. Jumping up and down on a sharp shovel does not cut it.

Ivy Bed

Another new bed!
Even thought I went furniture shopping with Mom today, this bed is not a sleigh bed, poster bed or even the pencil bed that I’ve been eyeing for some time. This winter I will have the pleasure of designing another gardening spot, about 15’ by 5’ between the driveway and the house, with the bay window jutting into it. Until yesterday, this little piece of land was filled with ivy, which looked lovely against the brick façade of the house, but it kept trying to sneak into the house by creeping through the windows.

So this week I cut the ivy back to the ground. Cut is actually much too dainty of a word for this activity. I used a garden knife, clippers, and a mini-mattock. Despite the tools, my knuckles are raw from scraping the brick. The next step is to eradicate the ivy by spraying and/or digging. The dense woody roots may require use of a pickaxe! Once clean, I can amend the soil, probably with shredded leaves, so next spring I will be ready to plant.

As the bed rests this winter, I’ll be snug inside dreaming of how I will use this good earth. It segues into my cottage garden, so I will need to keep a similar style. Height is needed between the garage doors and the bay window. I’m thinking about a trellis with clematis or roses, tall grasses, or perhaps a columnar evergreen for winter color. I’ve decided to put window boxes around the bay window. Not only will they be attractive accents in the landscape, it will improve our view from the inside.

The bed is limited to 5’ in width by the house and the driveway. Actually, it is more like a parking lot. It has bugged me for years. They could have put a parking pad on the other side of the driveway, but they chose to put it in front of the house. I've asked Steve to rent a jack hammer and dig it up for flower gardens. He responds with either an incredulous look or “Put it on the list.”

Applesauce

Applesauce
Three bushels of apples are now off my counter and in my freezer. About half of the apples I sliced, fried in butter, and stirred in brown sugar and cinnamon. We will use these as warm side dishes or as toppings for pancakes (especially the gingerbread pancakes) or ice cream.

With the rest of the apples, I attempted applesauce. I was up until 1 am making it one night this week and it turned out runny - like pulpy apple cider. I stuck it in fridge and went to bed. The next morning, I strained it through cheesecloth and all was well. When I served the applesauce and apple sauce juice last night (with spinach quiche), my family raved. So I ended up with about $5.00 worth of applesauce and juice and it only took me seven hours. Tell me again why I'm doing this?

Katherine Hilliard Bennett Young

Katherine Hilliard Bennett Young
Or Kitty as her brother John called her in the Rondeau just posted. She is my paternal great-grandmother. I cherish my grandmother's locket that has a picture of Kitty (her mother) and Lawrence (her son and my father) in it. I framed a newpaper article Kitty wrote for the Buffalo Courier interviewing a female drummer (traveling salespeople).

I also have several of her books with correspondence and clippings stashed inside. Inserted in one of the books, Wild Earth and Other Poems by Padraic Colum, are several letters from the poet including some interesting discussion of the unrest in Ireland and how his friend (whom my great-grandmother admired) was executed for treason. The poet inscribed the book with the following blessing:

May the Olden
One whom Fairy
Women nurtured
Thro' seven ages,
Bring you seven
Waves of Fortune!

For Katherine Hilliard Young
Padriaic Colum
April 1921

To Kitty - A Rondeau

To Kitty - A Rondeau

"And after partaking of Sunday eatables he was bidden to write." - G. Innesly

You bid me try, Dear Kit, to write

An impromptu, at once, to night!

A rondeau, too, with thirteen lines,

And with the choice of just two rhymes;

Think of the task! at best - not light,

But when the muse, that nimble sprite,

Be stuffed with turkey, it is quite

Beyond my pen, and yet - pass lines!

You bid me try.

But still I strive; I'm in a plight;

Ah! Curses be on appetite,

And woe to him that overdines,

His verse with humor never shines,

And though my form "twill blast and blight,

You bid me try.

From John M. Hilliard, Medina, N.Y. Christmas,
1901.

Carnival of Recipes

Check out the Carnival of Recipies.

Syrian Nutmeg Cake

Carnival of the Recipes
I submitted my first recipe to the Carnival. This is a favorite from my childhood that I took with me when I established my first kitchen many moons ago. It is an easy and elegant dessert and always gets raves. The bottom crumb layer forms a crunchy crust for the moist cake, unless you pat the crumbs down and then it becomes rockhard. I use the 9 inch pan and I find it usually takes a lot a longer to bake than indicated.

A friend made a similar cake but used almonds and added orange zest to the batter. She didn't use nutmeg, but some other spice that I simply can't recall (cloves? ginger?). It was very good.

Look for other great recipes this Friday when She Who Will Be Obeyed hosts the carnival.

Syrian Nutmeg Cake
2 cups brown sugar
2 cups flour
1/2 cup butter
1 egg
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 cup sour cream
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Cut butter into sugar and flour until finely crumbed. Sprinkle half of the crumb mixture in a well-greased 7" springform pan (do not pat!). Mix baking soda and sour cream and add to the remaining crumbs along with egg and nutmeg. Beat until smooth. Pour batter over crumbs and sprinkle with nuts. Bake 1.5 hours at 325 degrees or until center is set. Can also use a 9" square pan and bake at 350 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes.

Serve warm or cold, with or without whipped cream.

River Party

Fall River Party
Saturday was the tenth annual Bishop gathering at the St. Joseph River. Not having a rain plan, I was pleased to awake to blue skies and sunshine, and the cool air made it a perfect fall day.

At 2:00, 25 of us gathered - from 18 months old to 81 years old. We cooked Beef Gascon in a large kettle over the open fire while the rest of the family brought side dishes and desserts. Tim brought bushels of apples from his trees, which has become part of the fall ritual.

In the afternoon, part of us went up to the Highlands and part of us stayed at the Property. (Yes, we own two river properties in addition to our home - which makes for LOTS of mowing.) In the barn at the Highlands, Mom was giving away some of her stuff she couldn't fit in her new apartment. The brothers and sister and I were reluctant to select anything in case others may want it, but the grandkids had no such compunction. (My son Ron has been reading Dad's WWII training manuals all week.) Tim brought his black powder musket and made some loud noises shooting the targets while the teenagers played a game of football.

Back at the property, Steve gave rides on the riverboat, even after night fell. The teenagers also took the canoes out; luckily no one fell in this year. Last year, Caecilia fell in after her canoe was rammed by her brother. I never saw anyone move so fast for shore as the canoe floated downstream.

The stew was done so we gathered to eat after praising God for our family and the day. After we took the kettle off the fire, Jennifer fried some bacon and mush for entertainment as the bacon grease caught on fire. Sated, we sat around the fire and told scary stories. One story made even the adults shriek in horror: President Kerry. We hid in the dark to scare the returning nighttime river boat riders. However, Grandma hid in her car and had trouble with her automatic headlights, etc.-our sides were splitting watching her antics. Andy's title is still secure though-the kids said that no one at the river has ever hidden and scared them as much as Andy once did. Then the storytelling started again as Mike softly played his guitar with Jennifer on harmonica with 3-year-old Morgan helping her. Each story outdid the previous one until Jenny capped off the evening with a thinly disguised Stephen King tale adapted to the Saint Frances Bass Mansion.

Gardener of My Soul

Be the Gardener of my Soul

I was exchanging e-mails with a friend from church this morning and she shared this prayer with me which I'm sharing with you.

Spirit of the living God, be the Gardener of my soul.
For so long I have been waiting, silent and still -
experiencing a winter of the soul.
But now, in the strong name of Jesus Christ, I dare to ask:
Clear away the dead growth of the past,
Break up the hard clods of custom and routine
Stir in the rich compost of vision and challenge.
Bury deep in my soul the implanted Word,
Cultivate and water and tend my heart,
until new life buds and opens and flowers.
Amen.

UPDATE: I tracked down the author - Richard Foster. In his book "Prayers from the Heart" he says he is indebted to Carol Mullikin for the image of God as Gardner of my Soul.

Ricky's Rant

Ricky's Rant
The twins had their 6-month dental check-up yesterday with their pediatric dentist. Ricky needs work on his permanent teeth that the pediatric dentist is not comfortable doing. He released Ricky and referred him to a dentist who treats adults. (I first wrote "adult dentist" as if they've been going to a child dentist.) For some reason, the switch upset Ricky mightily. Can you believe that both Dr. Olinger and I teared up? We've been through so much with the boys and I also saw it as another sign of my boys growing up too quickly for my comfort (although sometimes they are not maturing fast enough for my comfort.)

So on the way home, Ricky starts talking about the switch, getting more and more upset and not listening to any reason. His emotional outburst then extended to the recent switch in medical doctor due to HMO changes. Ron tried to get him to stop, but I wanted to hear what Ricky was thinking. Here's Ricky's conclusion:

"And it won't be long before we are going to school dirty, wearing rags
with oozing sores all over our bodies and no one will want to be our
friend."

Mainstream Media Reformation

MainStream Media Reformation
This article (via Instapundit) elegantly captured my opinion about the mainstream media. I thought you may enjoy it also.

Volunteer Army

Volunteer Army
Ron has decided to volunteer for the Army when he graduates high school. This is more than idle chatter. He has talked to new recruits, only checks out war books in the library, researched it on the web. Halfway through the presidential debates last night, he turned to me and said, "If Kerry wins, I'm going to wait until he is no longer commander-in-chief."

If Kerry is elected, the volunteer army may be in trouble if other young men feel the same way about the danger of being under Kerry's leadership. So return of draft may be a self-fulfilling prophecy.