Marvelously Mundane

Triple (Dog Dare You...) The Ginger Cookies

2012-01-16T15:21:00.000-05:00

Ah....sweet memories of holiday baking!

I tried a new to me ginger cookie recipe this holiday season - Triple The Ginger Cookies from Allrecipes. And they stayed fresh and soft and chewy in an airtight container for three weeks (ask me how I know...go ahead!) Yup, after the cookie platters and tins were distributed, and the Christmas decorations packed away, I came across a sealed container of these in my cookie storage room (aka home office...where no dogs are allowed...the only place a cookie can remain safe!) and yes, I triple dog dared myself to take a nibble.

And I'm still here!

No holiday cookie tray would be complete without some sort of ginger cookie. Or two....or three. This year I added this recipe to my baking to-do list. Not only do these cookies have dried ground ginger in them, but also fresh grated ginger AND crystallized ginger. The recipe scared me a little at first - would the ginger be too predominant? I mean, it CAN have quite a kick to it. But I forged ahead and grated some gingerroot and minced some crystallized ginger...and I am so happy I did!

The dough was a bit sticky after mixing, but after just an hour or so chilling in the refrigerator, it was easy to handle. I rolled it into balls, using my cookie scoop for measuring.

I call this photo "Way too much time on my hands! Please hire me"

See? It really is a friendly little cookie!

My kitchen was filled with the warm aroma of ginger as the balls of dough were transformed into these...

Absolute perfect crisp-chewy texture, three distinct levels of ginger flavor, but just the right amount of ginger kick, this recipe catapulted itself into my top ten favorites before the first of the cookies had cooled completely.

They store beautifully in an airtight container, but both the cookie dough (rolled into balls) and the baked cookies also freeze well for longer storage.

Perfect with a cup of tea on a cold winter day!

Spicy Cauliflower Poblano Soup

2012-01-15T17:49:00.001-05:00

I think the only good thing I can say about being in a cooking rut is getting out of it. As frustrating as being in a rut is, that split second when you're standing in the grocery store and you spot that ingredient that triggers the avalanche of creativity almost makes it worth the trouble. That happened to me at Wegman's recently. The first Wegman's in Massachusetts opened back in October 2011 (same day as the premier of the second season of "The Walking Dead"..... I loved that day...) so yesterday I visited again. Most of my 2,000 grand opening friends were absent, so I actually got a chance to browse areas I hadn't been able to get near that day. I knew I had been in a rut. Sure, I had cooked a few good meals, even a few new-to-me ones, but I hadn't "invented" anything in a long time. I hadn't found myself inspired enough to do so lately.

The first thing I spotted when I walked into Wegman's this time was a display of huge, beautiful, snow white heads of cauliflower. Funny, that was the first thing I spotted back in October, too, and now I will forever associate cauliflower with zombies. It's not just me... in the book "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies", there is a reference to the carnivorous undead being tricked into feasting on heads of cauliflower instead of human beings. So don't call me weird or crazy, okay? It's a perfectly logical association, I assure you.

I remembered this amazing cauliflower soup I made once or twice and thought about making that again, but I really wanted to be inspired to make something different. I picked one up...put it down....picked it up again...put it down again. I decided to come back if nothing else piqued my interest, and started wandering through the rest of the produce department. Last time I was here, I had picked up two poblano peppers - I had never cooked with them before - and promptly fell into my cooking rut, letting them rot in the bottom of by crisper drawer in the fridge. I spotted them and thought about giving it another try, but passed with an empty basket and headed over to the cheese department. Ah, to find something new (to me).

And there it was.... a small selection of cheeses I had never tried before! Among them some Mexican style cheeses, like Cotija, a sort of sharp, crumbly goat cheese; and Queso Panela, a soft, white cheese; and Queso Blanco, a creamy white cow's milk cheese, kind of a fresh mozzarella texture and flavor, but it doesn't exactly melt, it just softens up. The sign said it can be sprinkled over, among other things, soups as a garnish....

Soup, you say?
Cauliflower....
Poblano....
Soup....

Egads! I think I feel a recipe coming on!

I grabbed some cheese, then retraced my steps through produce, snagging one of those gorgeous heads of cauliflower, a poblano pepper, a jalapeno, and some of my staple veggies, onions, garlic, red bell pepper and carrots. I grabbed an avocado, too, because, well, it was there.

Once I got home, I chopped up the poblano pepper, minced three cloves of garlic and separated the cauliflower into bite-sized florets. I tossed them with some olive oil and seasonings - salt, pepper, cumin, chili powder and cayenne.

I spread this mixture on a baking sheet and roasted them, stirring occasionally, until golden brown.

Meanwhile, I diced some onion, celery and carrots and sauteed them in a little olive oil.

When the onions were translucent, I added some diced red pepper. I like red pepper to stay a little crisper, so that's why I added it later.

After that, I forgot to take pictures, but basically I added some chicken stock and seasonings to the sauteed onion mixture, then stirred in the roasted cauliflower. I also added a minced fresh jalapeno pepper. I made a roux out of butter and flour, whisked in milk and added that to the mixture and let it come up to a heavy simmer and thicken up. I then sort of half-mashed, half pureed the soup. I like to leave some cauliflower in floret form. When serving, you can swirl in sour cream and garnish with cilantro, sliced scallions and/or avocado chunks. and maybe a few hunks of that queso blanco or even some shredded cheddar would work..

Roasted Cauliflower Poblano Soup....Creamy, but light, with a bit of a kick. Just enough to keep you safe from zombies.

The Recipe.....

Roasted Cauliflower Poblano Soup

1 large head cauliflower, broken into florets

1 poblano pepper, seeded and diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 Tbsp olive oil

Salt & pepper

1 tsp. cumin

1/2 tsp chili powder

1/4 tsp cayenne

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 cup diced onion

1/3 cup diced celery

1/2 cup diced carrot

1/2 cup diced red bell pepper

2 cups chicken stock

1 tsp Mexican oregano

1 Tbsp flour

2 Tbsp butter

1/4 cup chopped cilantro

Sour cream

For garnish, crumbled queso blanco, sliced scallions, diced avocado and/or chopped cilantro.

Combine cauliflower, poblano and garlic; drizzle with 2 Tbsp olive oil and toss to coat. Add cumin, chili powder, cayenne and salt & pepper, and toss again. Spread on baking sheet. Bake at 375F, stirring occasionally, until golden brown and tender.

Meanwhile, heat 1 Tbsp olive oil in large skillet or stock pot. Saute onion, celery and carrot until onion is translucent (about 7 minutes). Add red pepper and cook an additional 3 or 4 minutes. Add chicken stock, oregano and roasted cauliflower mixture to the onion mixture, and simmer 15 minutes.

In small pan, melt butter; whisk in flour, then milk. Whisk until smooth, bringing to a boil. Add to soup.

Mash or puree soup, if desired.

Swirl sour cream into individual servings and garnish as desired.

A Very Festive Pumpkin Bread

2011-12-13T15:02:00.018-05:00

Greetings!

My, it sure has been a while! Hope everyone out there had a good year!

We're doing well - despite a couple setbacks, every day I realize how lucky I am. The biggest news is that I am unemployed for first time since my teenage years (which was, by the way, a kind of long time ago!) But it was the inevitable result of the sale of a company, one of those things that happens and eventually you just need to deal with it emotionally and move on. So, once I got over the initial shock I decided to twist my attitude in to one of optimism instead of despair.

Believe me, we are by no means wealthy and I simply have to work - no amount of clipping coupons and cutting back will do it for us. But a very wise colleague of mine had a saying about times like this: "There are no problems, just opportunities." And for me, that translates into an opportunity to spend more time with my family this December, as well as an opportunity to explore other careers, other employers, to build my professional network, maybe further my education....oh, and clean my house. Kind of.

Or totally skip cleaning and get right down to baking something yummy!

Say hello to Cherry Chocolate Pumpkin Nut Bread!

So easy, yet sweet/tart dried cherries and hunks of chocolate make this no ordinary pumpkin bread. All I did was take a perfectly lovely pumpkin bread recipe, Pumpkin Cranberry Bread from Allrecipes, and make a few changes - sub cherries for cranberries, add some chocolate chips and instead of canned, I used my own fresh (frozen/thawed) pumpkin from the freezer.

I also used my own Pumpkin Pie Spice Blend.

The original recipe can be found HERE.

First, whisk or sift the dry ingredients together.

Since dried cherries tend to be a bit larger than cranberries, I went ahead and chopped them coarsely. Set them aside with the chocolate chips and chopped walnuts.

In a separate bowl, blend together the sugar, eggs, pumpkin and oil. Fold that into the flour mixture until just barely blended, then fold in the cherries, chips and nuts. I sprinkled about a teaspoon of flour over those and tossed them to coat before adding them to the batter. The batter was a bit thin and I was afraid everything would sink to the bottom of each loaf. A dusting of flour will help the bits stay suspended as the bread bakes.

I used three 8" x 4" foil loaf pans - you could certainly use large or smaller pans, just adjust the baking time accordingly.

Bake at 350 F for about 50 minutes or until golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Let cool completely before slicing.

I love this bread - very moist and tender, great balance of flavors and best of all, delicious!

Cherry Chocolate Pumpkin Nut Bread

2 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 Tbsp. pumpkin pie spice

2 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

2 large eggs

2 cups granulated sugar

2 cups pumpkin puree

1/2 cup vegetable or canola oil

1 cup chopped dried cherries

3/4 cup chocolate chips

3/4 cup chopped walnuts (or pecans)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease three 8" x 4" loaf pans.

Whisk or sift together flour, pumpkin pie spice, baking powder and salt; set aside.

In another bowl, blend together eggs, sugar, pumpkin and oil.

Pour over flour mixture and stir until just blended. Fold in cherries, chocolate chips and nuts.

Fill loaf pans half way. Bake for about 50 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean and tops are golden brown/

Let cool completely on wire racks (I remove from loaf pans after abut 10 or 15 minutes).

Super Salads: Mango, Spinach And....

2011-02-26T13:45:00.014-05:00

I had a GREAT salad for lunch the other day - got the original recipe from the Weight Watchers website, but naturally I had to make changes based upon what I had on hand. The salad part remained the same (plus cucumbers), but I think I inadvertently improved upon the dressing!

The original salad is Chicken, Mango and Spinach Salad - I used leftover baked chicken, seasoned only with salt and crushed red pepper, baked on a bed of vegetables and white wine. (That was another recipe!). This one caught my eye because I just happened to have two bags of baby spinach and two mangos, both looking to become a part of something edible before they became inedible themselves. That and the leftover chicken, along with my addiction to MySpiceSage.com, where I procured Maharajah Curry Powder, lead me to this recipe. The original dressing called for prepared honey-mustard - I had none, so I used 1 tsp. honey and 1 tsp Trader Joe's Dijon Mustard. That wonderful, spicy mustard really put this over the top, and as I sat at my desk at lunchtime, in the midst of a particularly bad, sad week at work, I found that the sweet, spicy, smoky, sour-y salad really hit the spot. Curry in a salad dressing is pretty unusual for me, but I really enjoyed this.

So this afternoon, I decided to have another helping for lunch - I was out of chicken so I used chick peas instead, and found that not only is this a super salad, it's a marvelous meatless light meal, too! So I think I'll be seeing more of this.... I do like it better with chicken, though, and I think next time I'll glaze it with some of the dressing before baking/broiling/grilling the chicken. This wonderful blend of flavors would also compliment a number of proteins - thinly sliced steak, grilled shrimp, tuna or salmon.

Here's the recipe (chicken version) with my tweaks:

Mango, Chicken and Spinach Salad with Mango-Curry Dressing

Salad:

4 cups baby spinach

2 small mangoes, diced

1 cup diced English cucumber

2 chicken breasts, cooked and cut into bite-sized pieces (or beef, or chick peas, or shrimp...)

Dressing:

Whisk together:

1/3 cup mango nectar (or puree half a mango with a little water)

1 tsp honey

1 tsp dijon mustard

1/2 tsp curry powder

1 tbsp cider vinegar

1 tsp grapeseed or canola oil

1/2 tsp pepper

1/2 tsp sea salt

Arrange salad on plate and pour dressing over top.

Enjoy!

(Chick pea version!)

Marvelous Meatless Meals - Potato and Tofu Vindaloo

2011-02-07T19:32:00.023-05:00

It seems I have a little problem....

I have a thing for exotic spices in neat little resealable plastic bags....

Especially when the company that sells them offers free Madagascar Vanilla Beans with your order one month, then free Applewood Smoked Sea Salt the next. And when said company also happens to stock exotic or unusual items like Jalapeno Powder, Za'atar, Honey Powder and numerous varieties of curry powders, cinnamon, and cocoa, all reasonably priced and available in a variety of sizes, free shipping over $40....well, I just can't resist!

And so began my love affair with MySpiceSage.com. I think it's the "free shipping for orders over $40" that gets me. Regular shipping charges are pretty reasonable to begin with, but when I just need one more little nudge to buy items I gaze lovingly at on-line, that's usually the clincher for me!

And unlike some other promotions, I don't feel suckered when I do it (although, I have been on my BEST behavior lately - I refuse to buy anything new until I've opened at least a few more packages of spices!) I have actually delved into my stash and tried many new things, although a few of the more exotics have kind of scared me a little.

Since some of this stuff is a little "out there" for me, I've been kind winging it to find uses for some of these spices. So tonight, inspired by the "Meatless Mondays" craze (and the fact that my Meat-and-Potatoes husband, whose idea of spices is "salt" - not Kosher, not sea, and certainly not applewood smoked....just "salt") is not home tonight, I decided to open my overflowing spice cupboard and use whatever item fell out as part of a meatless meal....and the winner is:

Vindaloo Curry Spice! A fragrant blend of coriander, cumin, red pepper, black pepper, cinnamon, cloves and turmeric.

I had heard of the term Vindaloo before - I think in an interview with Bon Appetit, actor Sir Anthony Hopkins listed his favorite dish as Chicken Vindaloo, an Indian dish but with the influence of those worldy sea-faring Portuguese. From Wikipedia: "The name Vindaloo is derived from the Portuguese dish "Carne de Vinha d' Alhos", which is a dish of meat, usually pork, with wine and garlic. The dish was originally modified in Mumbai by the substitution of vinegar for the wine, and the addition of red Kashmir chillies (not as spicy but abundant in colour). The dish evolved into the vindaloo curry dish in Goa, with the addition of plentiful amounts of traditional spice and using palm vinegar instead of red wine. Alternate terms are vindalho or vindallo."

I think there's so many reasons why even just the name appeals to me - Sir Anthony Hopkins is one of my favorite actors. Howard's End, World's Fastest Indian, Remains of The Day, Legends of The Fall...all movies I could watch over and over again. He's been in TWO movies that also starred a certain actor I (sigh) admire, Benicio Del Toro. Celebrity stalking (in my dreams) aside, I've always been intrigued by India, probably since my Dad served in the China-Burma-India theater of WWII. And Portugal has always been another obsession of mine - the food, the country, the culture, the music, the people....wrap all those things together and it seems only natural that the vindaloo curry powder would be the one to jump out at me!

So, after browsing around on-line, here's what I came up with for tonight's Marvelous Meatless Meal....

Potato and Tofu Vindaloo

Inspired by THIS recipe, here's the one I came up with, and it was wonderful! I made some changes based on what I had on hand as well as healthier, Weight Watchers-friendly substitutions and a weeknight-friendly process.

Ingredients:

1 14 oz. package firm or extra firm tofu

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp onion powder

1 tbsp flour

2 tbsp canola oil, separated

1 tbsp minced fresh ginger

5 cloves garlic

1/2 cup finely diced onion

1 tsp black pepper

1/2 tsp salt

1 tbsp brown sugar

1 tbsp Vindaloo Curry Spice

About 2 tsp water plus 1 cup water

4 tbsp white vinegar

1 large sweet potato (about 1 1/2 c, diced small)

1 cup garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed if using canned

1 cup tomato sauce

Direction:

Slice block of tofu horizontally. Press between paper towels to remove excess liquid. (I place a pan on it for about 20 minutes to help squeeze the liquid out.) Cut into cubes. Mix garlic and onion powder with flour; toss with tofu cubes. Set aside.

In large skillet, heat 1 tbsp. oil. Add onions, garlic and ginger and cook until tender, about 5 minutes. Remove to a blender or small food processor. Add pepper, salt, brown sugar and curry powder with about 2 tsp water. Blend into a paste. Add vinegar and set aside.

Add remaining tbsp of oil to skillet and increase heat to medium-high. Stir fry tofu until browned, about 5 minutes. Add diced sweet potatoes and cook another 4 or 5 minutes. Stir in vindaloo paste, tomato sauce, 1 cup water and garbanzo beans. Bring to boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes or until potatoes are thoroughly cooked.

Recipe notes:

First, this is not a "true" vindaloo paste - for authenticity, use whole spice seeds, toast them in a pan and grind yourself (MySpiceSage has a lot of whole spices and seeds, too!) Then cook the paste mixture with the tomato sauce and additional oil until fragrant and reduced. But for a quick weeknight meal, I'm all for shortcuts!

This could be served with rice...but I'm saving my carbs for things like chocolate cake or brownies. So I opted to serve mine over steamed spinach. As is, the above recipe is more like 4 servings, but over spinach I can get 6 servings out of one skillet, at only 6 PointsPlus per serving (far anyone following Weight Watchers).

The Verdict: This was delicious! And very mild, as far as curries go. The Vindaloo Curry Spice is more along the lines of Garam Masala - fragrant, warm, exotic, with just a hint of heat, really. I could totally see myself adding some dried chili powder to this to make it more of a traditional spicy vindaloo. And I'm a wimp when it comes to spiciness!

Sunday In My City - Road Trip, Auburn NY

2011-01-30T11:21:00.015-05:00

This weekend, for Unknown Mami's Sunday In My City, we took a trip back in time.

Sort of.

Even though Auburn, NY is a bit of a hike from where I live, the ride really didn't seem that long. Perhaps it was because after the multiple snowstorms we've experienced over the past several weeks since Christmas, it felt good to finally get out and just relax, enjoy the scenery without having to shovel a path to it. The roads were clear, the sun was shining and the snow was slowly melting, the 8-foot bank at the edge of my driveway is down to about 5 feet. It almost makes me want to put on some shorts!

Almost.

The first thing I thought as we approached Auburn was how it looked like we were stepping back in time. Check out this old image from the late 1940's or early 1950's...

And this one....

The Auburn of today is remarkably unchanged. They've left a lot of the historic buildings intact, lending charm to the city.

And they didn't get as much snow as we've gotten, and the weather was unseasonably warm. Warm enough for that crew to be out painting that old bridge...

Well actually .......

We only made it as far as Springfield, MA to the Eastern States Exposition where every January they hold the Amherst Railway Society Railroad Hobby Show!

Here are the "colorized" versions of those photos!

And photos do not do it justice...as the wife of a sometimes model railroad hobbyist, I can assure you, A LOT of work went into these displays.

The detail is just amazing.

And a special thanks to the Pepperell Siding Model Railroad Club for taking me "home" every year....

Part of their display includes a model of Pepperell, MA where I was born and my Dad's family lived for generations.

(Pepperell photos are is from the 2010 Model Railroad show...because I can't find the cord to download photos from my daughter's camera...)

Maybe next Sunday in My City I'll take you to the real Pepperell!

My First Ever Gingerbread House - Part 1

2010-12-06T07:00:00.002-05:00

One of the regulars over on Allrecipes, Carrie, came up with a great idea - a virtual Gingerbread Village! Folks who wanted to participate would create their own ginger bread house to be part of a village. I loved the idea! I love diversity, and when you have people from all over the world, with many different backgrounds and memories of Christmas, likes and dislikes, it would be so cool to see what people come up with!

So, even though I don't exactly have a degree in architecture...for example:

Me: "Can we get some skylights put in the kitchen?"

Him: "Uh....no."

Me: "Why not?"

Him: "Our bedroom is above our kitchen."

Bearing walls, structural support, blah blah blah...apparently you can't just take a chainsaw and cut the house in half, shift the bedroom over and nail it into place so I can get some decent light in my kitchen....

Anyway, I KNOW my architectural limitations, so I relied on Google to point me in the right direction. It led me to this recipe and tutorial. I was intimidated - it involved rolling out dough, so immediately my fear of pie crust reared it's ugly, vicious head, like the imaginary flesh-eating zombie that you know isn't (but could be) lurking in your basement when you have to run downstairs to throw clothes in the dryer at 11:05 PM on a Sunday night after watching "The Walking Dead".

Yes, I fear pie crust that much.

But I read the instructions over and over again until it sounded....well, easy! And now that it is in the past, I can tell you it WAS easy!

Here's what you do:

Print out the templates from the site. There are many others, but frankly I just liked this simple design. Cut them out, then trace them onto cardboard and cut out the cardboard shapes.

You can just cut out one of each and just use them twice. But if you're going to play around with your own unique design, it might be a good idea to cut all the pieces out and kind of piece them together to achieve the look you want.

Then, make the dough. This is soooo easy!

For one house, in a microwave-safe bowl, mix together 1 cup light corn syrup...

Add to it 3/4 cup packed brown sugar (light or dark, depending on the color dough you want - I used light)...

...and 1/2 cup plus 2 tbsp. margarine...

And then microwave on high until sugar is dissolved. I ran mine for 2 minutes, stirred, then maybe another 1 1/2 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine 4 1/2 cups flour and 1/4 tsp. salt...totally optional, but I added a tablespoon of cinnamon and a teaspoon of ground cloves, strictly for their aromatic qualities.

Whisk the dry ingredients together then add the melted corn syrup, sugar & margarine mixture and stir...

It will become kind of crumbly...

...but go ahead an knead it a bit or let the kids squish it until it comes together - just make sure there are no "hot spots" from the liquid. The dough will be warm.

Don't worry if it seems a little dry. Now you want to wrap it in plastic and just let it sit at room temperature for about 30 minutes. A little bit of condensation builds up (because the dough is still warm) and it turns it into this lovely, smooth dough - it looks almost like penuche fudge as it's setting.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Lay out a sheet of foil the size of your cookie sheet on a flat surface (the link mentioned using a flat on or one with only one side vs. a rimmed baking sheet. A flat sheet will help the air to circulate more freely).

Roll the dough to 1/4" thickness - don't worry about it cracking.

Unlike pie crust dough, that you should handle as little as possible, this dough can be worked with. Just patch up or pinch together any cracks, tears or thin spots and roll smooth. Lumps of dough can be reheated in the microwave if the are not cooperating.

Keep the scraps wrapped up in plastic for other projects or decorations. I left a plastic-wrapped blob out overnight at room temperature, popped it in the microwave for ten or fifteen seconds, and I had a nice workable dough again!

"Yeah? How you like me NOW, zombie-pie crust!!!!"

Oops...sorry about that....I got a little excited for a minute. It's not often rolled out dough bows down to me like this.

Place your lightly floured cardboard templates on the dough - try to leave a good inch between them. Cut them out using a pizza cutter or a ravioli cutter...

...and carefully remove the scraps in between your shapes.

Set the cardboard pieces aside.

You can go ahead and bake them (like I did the first time...duh) OR cut doors or windows out.

I just cut additional cardboard templates and used a small paring knife to cut them, but you could use little cookies cutters, too!

Slip your baking sheet under the foil, and place the cutouts in the oven. Total baking time is about 10 - 12 minutes. If you want to create "colored glass" windows....

Unwrap some butterscotch (or other hard) candies...

Place them in a heavy duty plastic Ziploc bag and tap a few times with a hammer.

After the dough has baked about ten minutes, sprinkle the crushed candy into the window openings...

...and bake another 5 minutes or so until smooth and melted. I swirled it a couple times with a toothpick. Remove and let cool completely before trying to remove from the foil. The dough hardens quickly, but the candy will take longer - overnight would be best, but I just stuck mine in our chilly garage for about an hour and it was good to go!

Don't worry about imperfections. We're going to slap so much royal icing and candy decorations on this baby, we can cover up just about anything!

Next up: Part 2 - Assembly and royal crazy glue!

Let It Glow, Let It Glow, LetIt Glow!

2010-12-05T07:00:00.001-05:00

"Ohhh.......

My electric bill is going to be frightful.....

But the lights are so delightful....

And as long as she loves it so......

Let it glow!

Ho - Ho- Ho!

LET IT GLOOOOOOW!"

(This is Santa, in January, when the light bill comes in.....)

Happy Holidays!

2010 Christmas Cookie #2 - Mexican Chocolate Cookies

2010-12-04T10:14:00.016-05:00

Mmmm...Chocolate....Cinnamon....Chili Pepper

Huh? Chili Pepper? Yes!

Christmas cookie #2 comes from Mrs Williams who posted her recipe over on Grouprecipes, and also blogged about it HERE.

The cookie dough itself is soooooo chocolatey - it looks almost like fudge!

The dough starts with butter, brown sugar and water, cooked together on the stove. Then, semi-sweet chocolate chips are added to the hot mixture and melted. You let that cool for about ten minutes, the add in an egg, vanilla, flour, baking soda, salt and chili pepper.

I've often added chocolate - either cocoa or grated unsweetened chocolate - to my chili recipes. The chocolate adds a nice richness to it. In this cookie recipe, roles are kind of reversed: chocolate is the star and the chili powder is like a back-up singer. Of course, you want a back-up singer with a great voice! Not one who's just there because of their looks, right? ;) So I used some nice Ancho Chili Powder that I purchased from MySpiceSage.com.

And can I just say.... I heart MySpiceSage.com. They always add in a couple freebies with your order - one is a current promotional item (nice ones, too, like Applewood Smoked Sea Salt or Madagascar Vanilla Bean Pods) plus, depending on the size of your order, you get to choose your own sample(s) to be included in your order! Which is how I came to obtain my Ancho Chili Powder. Shipping is very reasonable, especially if you order $40 or more - then it's FREE! And to top it off, their prices are very reasonable and the product is of very nice quality. It comes packaged in airtight zipper top plastic bags...I'm still getting used to that. You can always transfer your herbs and spices to container of your choice. I've been doing that with the ones I use frequently as I'm not real good about making sure my plastic bags are re-zipped tightly after I've opened them!

Anyhoo.....back to these yummy cookies!

After the dough's mixed, you stir in some of those Hershey's Cinnamon Baking Chips. The combination of cinnamon, chocolate and chili powder is so warm, aromatic and even a bit exotic! I chilled my dough in the fridge for easier handling....actually overnight. In the morning, the dough was HARD, so I just popped it in the microwave for about two ten-second intervals to warm it up, and after that it was easy to work with.

Used my cookie scoop to make uniform sized balls of dough...

Bakes as directed and here they are....

Very chocolatey and delicious - they keep well in airtight plastic bags or containers. I've even frozen the dough in balls and baked. (I do let them thaw slightly before baking). And if you fear chili powder, let me just say that I don't really "taste" the chili powder as much as I "feel" it - it adds a nice warmth to the cookies, that compliments the chocolate and cinnamon flavors beautifully.

So if you want something different for this year's cookie trays, definitely check these out!

Here's a link to the original recipe: Mexican Chocolate Cookies

Tis The Season....

2010-11-21T08:26:00.017-05:00

Well, hello there! (Um, if you're still there...)

Sorry I've been away for a while...things got kind of hectic with my Punkin starting school...

(I swear, I did not cry....)

...and her budding soccer career....

She liked this MUCH more than T-ball, although her T-ball coaches and team mates were nice. We're not real big baseball people, so she really didn't understand the game, so it took her a while to feel like she knew what to do. She did enjoy playing outfield, though, and spinning around until she was dizzy...

Soccer, on the other hand, she had at least seen before and kicked around a soccer ball from time to time. She did great! She may have only gotten one goal the whole season, but I was always so proud of her and the way she acted out on the field - listening to her coaches, high-fiving the other players and always - and I mean ALWAYS - smiling!

I did some baking during pumpkin season...and I have about 20 cups of pumpkin puree in my freezer. I have a new favorite use for pumpkin.....

Pumpkin Whoopie Pies!

Oh my, they were good! And pretty easy! You can click here for the recipe - I made a couple of minor changes: used my own Pumpkin Pie Spice Blend for the spices, and added and extra 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar to the filling (just to get a better texture) along with abut 1/4 tsp. orange extract. I know we're getting closer to Christmas, but it's not too late for a fall treat! I highly recommend these!

Speaking of Christmas and baking...

(Sing with me, now....)

"It's the most wonderful time of the year..."

Time for CHRISTMAS COOKIES! :)

So I've put up some decorations, put the Christmas music on and I'm getting ready for my annual baking adventures! I had this idea of doing "25 Days of Baking", like a cookie a day for 25 days, but .... it's December 3rd already. So let's just say I'll be doing "a lot" of baking, but I won't put a number on it! ;)

It's not too early to start, you know! Most cookies - or at least cookie doughs - freeze beautifully~just wrap them as airtight as possible. For the short term, plastic zip-type freezer bags work great!

I've already stashed some of these in the freezer...

2010 Recipe #1 - Hermit Bar Cookies from Allrecipes

Hermits remind me of my elementary school days - they were a favorite dessert of mine. Softly spiced, chewy bars, loaded with raisins and back in those seemingly pre-allergy days, walnuts. Although I was hoping to recreate the Hermit bar of my childhood, I didn't add nuts because some went to my Dad and he has no teeth :) These were not as chewy as the ones I remember, but they have a nice flavor and soft texture that keeps very well, and are a great snack with a cup of tea or coffee. These also freeze well after baking.

Thanks for stopping by! Help yourself to a Hermit and I'll pour you a cup of coffee... (or if you want a good cup of coffee, I'll run up the street to Dunkin's and get you one. I am admittedly not known for my coffee-making skills!)

Hope you come back soon to see what I'm cookin' up for this holiday season! ;)

Monumental Mountains - Part I

2010-08-30T07:00:00.005-04:00

"...to live in a country where you can take an ugly old mountain and put faces on it, faces of great Americans who did so much to make our country super great, well that makes me, Rebecca Leeman, proud to be an American."

-Becky Ann Leeman, "Drop Dead Gorgeous"

Well, I have a feeling after seeing the area around Mount Rushmore that the big old mountain that Becky speaks of was never ugly...

We just returned from vacation - one that rivals the best vacation I've ever been on, which was our southwest road trip from Vegas to the Grand Canyon to Sedona to Phoenix. We came home realizing that the one thing you absolutely must see if you live or visit North America is the Grand Canyon, and it piqued our interest in visiting other National Parks throughout the country. We knew somewhere down the road, Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills National Park would be another destination.

Flash forward six years, where we went from two to three in our family. We put off any big vacations for a while, because we wanted out daughter to be old enough to appreciate it and after several east coast road trips and a venture into Ohio last year, we felt she was ready for a "big" trip. Funny thing, though, we booked this whole trip about three weeks before our departure! We weren't sure we'd be able to swing it until the very last minute, but thanks to a few things going our way and cashing in some rewards points, it all worked out.

You may have noticed - we're movie buffs. Any chance we get, we try to work in some sort of movie reference, so as we tossed around the idea of visiting Mt Rushmore, I kept repeating the "big ugly mountain" quote from "Drop Dead Gorgeous". Sure, I was joking, but a part of me - maybe because I hated the Becky Leeman character and secretly snickered when (****SPOILER ALERT!!!) the gasoline soaked swan float she was riding on exploded - kind of felt a bit of animosity toward people that feel they have to make their mark on something pure and natural. I mean, I love my country - I bitch about it a lot less than most people I know, taking the good with the bad, voting every chance I get and trying to be a good citizen and do my part to make it work - but why oh why do you have to take a perfectly beautiful mountain and totally reshape it? Of course, I DID want to see it, and I knew I would ooh and aah over it, but pride and patriotism aside, I think that some of the most beautiful things about this country are the things we haven't touched.

One visit to the Grand Canyon instilled that in me.

Our first night in Hill City, SD, we took a little ride around town then past Mt Rushmore to get our first glimpse, and in a way I was relieved to see that it looked a lot smaller than I had imagined, so it didn't seem so "fake" to me. I was able to appreciate the man-made beauty it possesses.

Ok, so it's pretty. It's majestic. It makes you think about the foundations of this country, and some of the men who made it "super great". George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln. When you think about the times they live during, their individual stories and their contributions to our country, you tend to forgive that a tiny piece of natural beauty was given up in their honor, so that we may be reminded of their history, and of ours.

You enter through the visitors' center, passing by columns adorned with each state's flag, as well as a few U.S Territories'. The sculpture seems kind of small at first.

At the base is an amphitheater, where people gather at night to watch a presentation as lights flicker on to illuminate the faces on the mountain.

What I didn't expect was how close you are able to get to the mountain. All around the base are trails you can walk to get different views of the mountain.

This one was taken from a chasm below the mountain, between two huge slabs of stone...

The walk goes on for quite a distance, some parts easy, some parts a little more challenging, but there are plenty of places to stop and rest.

It takes about an hour to walk all along the base of the mountain.

Finally you get back to your starting point and walk up a few flights of stairs to the vistors' center.

Turns out, George, Thomas, Teddy and Abe have a pretty decent view, too!

After leaving the monument, most people head back the way they came, ignoring the little sign that reads "George Washington Profile View" but we continued around the mountain and came upon this....

I left Mt. Rushmore without any feelings that the beauty of nature had been violated somehow. It's another must-see for anyone who makes it to this part of the country. And not just because of the happy, feel-good, patriotic emotions it brings, but as you travel throughout the area you also have to, as a citizen of the United States of America, take a long, hard look in the mirror and realize that in addition to all the greatness our forefathers brought to this land, there is a dark side that we should not forget, either....

Our accomplishments and our mistakes, both personal and as a nation, make us who we are, and neither should be forgotten.

To be continued.....

Sunday In My City: Back From Vacation

2010-08-29T10:10:00.009-04:00

We arrived home from our awesome vacation yesterday, so for this week's Sunday In My City, hosted by Unknown Mami, I'm not going anywhere except maybe the home office so I can finish downloaded the gazillion photos we took!

We flew into Denver, Colorado on Saturday, August 21st and stayed two nights so we could have a full day in and around Denver. Really nice city - people are very friendly and the weather was in the 90's but none of that humidity that we tend to get in the northeast. Monday we made the 6-hour drive to South Dakota, through eastern Wyoming, and made it to our home base in Hill City, SD.

Tuesday we visited....

Mount Rushmore...here's George Washington's profile....

...and the better known view of Mount Rushmore...

Just a few minutes away is the Crazy Horse Monument (in progress) When complete, those four faces you see at Mount Rushmore? They will fit into that space behind Crazy Horse's head...

After spending a considerable amount of time at those two places, we headed to Custer State Park and drove the Needle Highway....wonder why they call it that?

Maybe because driving your rented Chevy Tahoe through this is kind of like threading a needle? :)

Custer State Park was beautiful!

We made some friends with the wildlife....

Wednesday is head to Wyoming Day to visit the first National Landmark, Devil's Tower....

I cannot aptly describe the coolness of this place....just amazing! This is sacred ground to Native Americans, and I can see why.

Thursday we headed out to the Badlands of South Dakota, stopping at the famous Wall Drug...

Then onto the mysterious, beautiful, rugged Badlands. You drive through Nationals Grasslands, vast stretches of flat prairie, then suddenly you are here....

Much like the Grand Canyon, you just can't capture it on film.

Friday we headed back to Denver - a long ride, but beautiful land.

And yesterday we arrived back in Boston.

Looking forward to sharing more with you! It was a great trip!

Thanks for stopping by and happy Sunday to you!

Be sure to stop by Unknown Mami's to share your Sunday with us!

Sunday In My City - Green Hill Park

2010-08-08T16:50:00.010-04:00

This week for Sunday In My City we visited one of the many parks in Worcester, MA, Green Hill Park...

Worcester is sometimes referred to as the City of Seven Hills...my mother-in-law could name them all, but to me it seems like there's a heck of a lot more hills here! Anyway, Green Hill Park sits atop one of the official seven, Belmont Hill.

Green Hill has a golf course, playground, basketball/tennis courts, lots of grassy areas for picnicking, beautiful views and a small farm.

I had only driven by this once before and it had seemed rather shabby. I was quite pleased to see that it was nicely maintained, and the handful of animals seemed happy and healthy.

First we visited the sheep....

Then the pigs...

Then my favorite, the miniature horse

(she was very friendly...came trotting right over to us!)

The llamas (I thought they were alpaca, but they're not!) kept their distance...

Which is a good thing...llamas always seem to spit at me.

The goats were friendly...

On our way out we saw a kite flying in the sky...next time we're bringing ours! Being on top of a big hill, it's usually pretty breezy here.

The last time I had visited here, it was shortly after the park's Vietnam Memorial was dedicated. We didn't get a chance to get out and walk around this time - my little one was tired after our two-mile bike ride earlier today! But it is a lovely memorial....

Maybe we'll come back next Sunday!

Thank you Unknown Mami for hosting Sunday In My City once again! If you'd like to share your Sunday with her, click here!

Happy Sunday!

Saturday Splurge - Makin' Whoopie...Pies, that is!

2010-08-07T16:30:00.010-04:00

Last night we went out to dinner with friends to one of our old faithful places, The Boynton, in Worcester. The boys both got baked haddock and Tracy and I both got one of the specials, Brewster Striped Bass with green beans, onions and shaved fennel. Yum. And White Mango Sangria. Really good! I could go for another one right now!

The Boynton does have it's share of fine desserts, but when we dine there we usually forego the dessert menu and skip next door to The Bean Counter, a little coffee shop with some of the best pastry and desserts, and a huge variety of coffees and teas to choose from. Glass cases display everything from wedges of cheesecake, to cupcakes, to single-serving tiramisu or chocolate molten cakes, brownies, cookies, biscotti, and in large glass apothecary jars up on top, an assortment of big chunky cookies - mostly vegan. And as far as Tracy is concerned, the holy grail of vegan desserts, their Vegan Whoopie Pies. She's not vegan (hence the fish dinner) she loves these things!

I much preferred the Double Chocolate Biscotti, or the Vegan Peanut Butter Chip cookies (my choice last night!), as "Vegan Whoopie Pies" didn't sound all that tempting to me. Then one night, Tracy asked "What's in these?" and the girl behind the counter replied, "Well, they're basically just oatmeal cookies with a vegan buttercream-type filling, that's all".

I must have dreamed about them, because today I started dreaming up whoopie-pie type recipes. Tracy has us over for dinner quite a bit and I would love to surprise her next time with homemade vegan whoopie pies, maybe with a little twist. And here's what I ended up making....

MAPLE WALNUT OATMEAL WHOOPIE PIES

The cookie part came out perfect - as a cookie or whoopie pie component - but I think I need to work on the filling. Of course, I de-veganized it this time around, just to see if my theories would work. First, I subbed 1/2 cup mashed banana in place of the eggs I normally would use. Then I wanted maple flavor, but maple syrup tends to lose its flavor when cooked, so I went with maple flavoring, saving a touch of the real stuff for the filling...which is very....shortening-y and sweet. I need to work on that!

But the end result isn't bad at all! So if you're in the mood - even if for only the cookie - give this one a shot!

MAPLE WALNUT OATMEAL WHOOPIE PIES

For the cookies....
1/4 cup butter, softened

1/4 cup sugar

3/4 cup brown sugar

1 tbsp molasses

1/2 cup mashed ripe banana

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/2 tsp maple flavoring

1/2 cup buttermilk

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour (or white whole wheat flour)

1/2 tsp, baking powder

1/2 tsp. Baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/4 tsp ground cloves

3 cups old fashioned oats

1/2 cup walnuts, very finely chopped

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Cream together butter, sugar and brown sugar. Beat in banana, molasses, vanilla and maple extract.

In a separate bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and spices. Stir in oats.

Add the flour/oat mixture alternately with the buttermilk to the batter (1/3 of the flour/oat mixture, 1/4 cup buttermilk, another 1/3 flour/oats, rest of the buttermilk, rest of the flour/oats) beating well after each addition. Stir in nuts.

Using a large cookie scoop or ice cream scoop, place cookie dough on greased baking sheets, 2” apart. Press down slightly, if desired (cookies will not spread a whole lot,so they retain their shape)

Bake 10-12 minutes or until tops look dry and cookies are just golden around the edges. Remove to wire racks to cool completely.

For the filling...

1 cup shortening

1 tbsp maple syrup

1/2 tsp vanilla

4 c confectioner’s sugar

pinch salt
2 tbsp (or so) milk
Beat shortening until smooth.
Beat in vanilla and maple syrup, then beat in confectioner's sugar, one cup at a time, beating well after each addition. Add a little milk as needed to achieve desired consistency.

Sandwich filling between two cooled cookies.
(You can also make smaller cookies - this makes 12 4"-5" cookies or 12 whoopie pies.)

Sunday In My City - Of Bridges and Bicycles

2010-08-01T16:47:00.009-04:00

Greetings fellow Sunday In My City participants!

Not much going on in central Massachusetts this weekend...just a few errands around Worcester.

We saw a big bridge....

Here's a close up as we passed underneath...

...and a little bridge...

And somehow came home with a new bike!

Still trying to figure out how that happened! ;)

Actually our girl is growing by leaps and bounds, and yesterday she had a friend over to ride bikes. I noticed that she kept bumping her knees on the handlebars, so it was time for a new bike. Not quite ready to take the training wheels of yet, though!

Big Bridge = Southbridge Street Bridge in Worcester, MA (Miss Worcester Diner is slightly visible to the right...I heart diners).

Little Bridge = one of the many Providence & Worcester Railroad bridges around here, and this one is in my town. Growing up, the P&W trains ran pretty much right through my back yard. I remember running down and placing rocks or pennies on the tracks before the train came through every afternoon.

Hope you are having a lovely Sunday!

Check out the other Sundays in My City over at Unkown Mami's!

Sunday In My City - 9th Annual George Street Challenge, Worcester, MA

2010-07-25T17:49:00.022-04:00

Unknown Mami hosts a wonderful feature called Sunday In My City, where you share something that's going on in your area each Sunday - it's lots of fun! If you haven't already, head on over to her place to check out everyone who's participating this week....and maybe share something about your Sunday!

I was very excited about sharing this Sunday with you all... I figured as lovely as they are, you may think that my area is all about small New England towns and hiking trails, but the fact is I live about a quarter mile from the second largest city in New England, right behind Boston. At least I think it is...Worcester, MA and Providence, RI keep swapping the "2nd largest" title back and forth.

Worcester has had it's struggles economically, and sometimes it gets a reputation that I don't really think it deserves. Naturally, in a city this size, there will be crime, but Worcester is surprisingly safe...it just doesn't always look that way. It tends to have that "run down" look. However, rich in history, architecture, culture and diversity, to me Worcester is a diamond in the rough. It is a city of many hidden treasures, and host to some really cool events.

This is one of them.....

The Annual George Street Challenge

Unless you are a cyclist, you probably have never heard of Major Taylor, but he lived in Worcester, moving here in 1895, just as he began to make his mark on the world. Marshall W. "Major" Taylor was not only a champion cyclist, but a man way ahead of his time, an African-American fighting for social equality for himself as well as others less fortunate, while promoting athletics and the virtues of healthy, clean living. You can read all about him here, and if you're lucky enough to get your hands on one there are a couple good books about him.

As part of his training regiment just before the turn of the century in 1899, he would ride his bike up George Street, a narrow one-way off of the north end of Main Street. My daughter calls it "The Steep Road" - 500 feet long, average grade about 17.5%. Several years ago, cycling enthusiasts and businesses began this event. One at a time, 100 to 150 riders attempt to ride up George Street, while their families, friends and some of us locals cheer them on. Here are some shots of this year's event....did I mention it takes place in July? Temperatures usually run from about 85 - 90+ degrees F, and we have this evil thing called "humidity"....it should be a four-letter word, if you ask me.

But it doesn't stop these amazing athletes from accepting the challenge....

This is the northern section of Main Street....

Here's the starting line, atthe bottom of George Street...

Here's one of the many cyclists who participated...you can't see the whole street here, just the very bottom.

A little better view of the incline..it curves slightly so you can't quite see the top...but you get the idea!

Here's the view down from maybe a quarter of the way up....

I have some good hills near where I live, and I can honestly say, I could make it this far...

Which isn't really that far....here's the view from about a third of the way up...

I'll tell you, some of these people make it look easy.

Here are some crowd favorites!

The finish line is still out of view here, but this family did indeed make it!

We moved up a bit further and cheered on several more participants. Each rider's name is announced, as well as where they're from - locals, students at one of the many colleges in Worcester, and visitors from Wisconsin, California, Chicago, to name a few.

Here's the view from about two-thirds of the way up...no, not from the top yet! If you look closely you can make out a participant taking off at the bottom...

Here he is about a third of the way up...

And maybe half way here...

Everyone gets cheered on - this rider did great, but that last twenty or thirty feet is almost a heartbreak hill of sorts, and he slowed down quite a bit. Another cyclist jumped out and walked alongside him, encouraging him.....

I don't know if they new eachother or not, but everyone supports eachother. There's no real air of "winning", it's really more like 150 people each committing to a personal challenge.

Here he is, about a foot from the finish line! He made it and, like everyone else, got a big round of applause.

Not everyone made it this day, but just accepting this challenge makes you a winner.

It was tough enough walking it....hats off to everyone who tried to ride it!

Major Taylor fought his own battle, and went on to become a well-respected cycling champion. At the age of 32, he retired from racing. The following years were tough ones. After several failed business attempts and a failed marriage, he moved to Chicago. He died in 1932 at the age of 53, a poor man, and was buried in an unmarked grave. Eventually a group of cycling enthusiasts had his body exhumed and interred in his final resting place. His old hometown of Worcester has also started to give him the recognition he deserves, naming one of the main streets after him - Major Taylor Boulevard - and dedicating a beautiful memorial to him at the library (of course, I forgot to go snap a photo, but I will in the near future....) and the Major Taylor Association, formed by a group of Worcester citizens in honor of Major Taylor.

Thanks for stopping by! Hope you enjoyed your visit! The George Street Challenge takes place every July...if you're ever in the area, be sure to stop by and cheer everyone on...or better yet...BRING YOUR BIKE!!!!!

Sunday In My City - Moore State Park, Paxton

2010-07-18T12:35:00.023-04:00

Unknown Mami hosts a great feature called Sunday in My City, where you share with the world what's going on in your city each Sunday. I have had so much fun participating as well as catching a glimpse into other bloggers' Sundays!

This Sunday, my little one (who has her first loose tooth!) and I went for yet another hike. This time we traveled to our neighboring town of Paxton, Massachusetts to visit Moore State Park, a lovely and serene 400-acre piece of conservation land.

We passed through Paxton Center, another typical New England town center. Here's the church (I show you a lot of these, don't I? I have a thing for steeples, I guess!)

And just beyond the church is the town hall...

A bit further down the road is the entrance to today's destination...

Moore State Park...and I must say that so far this has been my favorite place to hike/walk. Of course, the fact that it was a gorgeous warm but breezy day helped, but the park is beautifully maintained without feeling too "civilized". It was one of the most serene and glorious places I have visited.

You start out near a beautiful meadow near the parking lot...

Moore State Park is a bit different than the trails we hiked last week in that our four-legged friends are welcome!

The paved road that leads from the parking area is open to pedestrians and bicyclists only, and is a pretty gentle and shady hike.

A good thing when you're accompanied by a five year-old with a loose tooth! I don't recall them being so debilitating....

I don't think I captured it on film, but this road is lined with rhododendron bushes - you can bet I'll be back next spring when they're in bloom! Must be gorgeous!

There's lots of greenery though, like these beautiful ferns....

It took me 27 shots before this shy butterfly showed me her wings....so pretty!

We passed another smaller meadow, framed by one of the ubiquitous stone walls that criss-cross the New England landscape.

Not far from the entrance is a pretty pond, Eames Pond...

And in the distance we came upon this sight...

Aptly named "Enchanta Bridge", it turned out to be a beautiful spot to sit and rest, gazing out over the tranquil pond....

Sigh....

The water runs below it into a stream - this is the view from behind as we moved along...

Just around the bend we spotted another structure, the Old Sawmill....

On the way, some "wild animals" made their way over to say hello....

"Quack! Quack!"

The Old Sawmill was pretty cool...

Other than a brief thunderstorm the other day, we haven't had much rainfall so the water hasn't risen high enough to pour over the dam more than a trickle...

Here's the side...the water would normally flow right underneath the building...

And here's the view from behind....

There were several other trails nearby, as well as an orchard and some historic buildings, but we had to head home, so we said goodbye to Moore State Park.

But we'll be back!

Thanks for joining us on our hike! I'm pretty excited about next Sunday in My City...first of all, it will actually be in a city for a change (not that there's anything wrong with woods and hiking and wildlife, but I do live a stone's throw from the second largest city in New England...) and there is a really cool event taking place that I hope to share with you! It might be a bit of a major challenge ( <- Hint, hint....) to capture it on film, but I'll give it my best!

What's happening in your neck of the woods this fine Sunday? Hope you pop on over to Unknown Mami and join the fun!

Happy Sunday to all!

Saturday Splurge - Grilled Spiced Peaches with Orange-Vanilla Mascarpone

2010-07-17T19:02:00.009-04:00

"You had me at mascarpone....."

I love mascarpone. I love Italian, I love cream cheese, I love tiramisu. I love that cannoli place near me that makes mascarpone-filled cannoli.

I thought of those delectable things as I waited my turn at the deli today, and glanced over into the cheese case. Before I knew it, a cute little package of mascarpone had stowed away in my shopping cart. Over in produce, I noticed it as it winked at me and pointed to some beautiful peaches.

Hmmm...well, okay. You can come home with me. Peaches have to be healthier than deep-fried cannoli shells sprinkled with powdered sugar and drizzled with chocolate, right?

So, here's what I had for dinner tonight....you might want to make this for dessert, but frankly it was so hot and humid today (again) that I wasn't hungry enough for actual dinner, so I skipped right to dessert. I mean, there's ALWAYS room for dessert...especially when you don't eat your dinner.

Along with peaches, you'll need some mascarpone, an orange (or a tbsp of orange zest and maybe 1/4 cup or so of orange juice) and some honey.

And ....

...some brown sugar, ground allspice, ground ginger and a vanilla bean pod. (Which I was very excited about....first time I've ever used one!)

Why do I not have a picture of this part?

Anyway, cut around the peaches to cut them into halves. Twist gently but firmly and they should come apart, leaving the pit in one side. Carefully pry that out.

Zest the orange and set the orange zest aside. (That sounds strangely redundant, but I can't think of another word for orange zest....or even just zest)

Squeeze the juice into a bowl and add the brown sugar, allspice and ginger. Place the peaches into a bowl or, better yet, plastic zipper-type bag and pour the orange juice mixture over them. Seal and let them marinate a bit - just a few minutes will do!

Meanwhile, you can make the topping. Whip together the mascarpone, orange zest and a couple teaspoons of honey. Split the vanilla pod and scrape the inside with a sharp knife. Blend that into the mascarpone. Cover and refrigerate it.

Lightly oil your grill and preheat it to medium. Place the peaches, cut side down, on the grill. Cover and grill about three minutes, then flip them and grill the skin side another 3 to 4 minutes.

If you sampled that orange juice marinade (like I did) you'll notice it's pretty spicy! The spice flavors are really subtle once the peaches are grilled, but it smells divine.

To serve, arrange one half peach on a plate, top with a dollop of mascarpone and garnish with some fresh berries.

There you have it! A lovely dessert! Or you can eat this, then take another grilled peach half, dip it in more mascarpone topping and call it dinner on a hot summer night!

Grilled Spiced Peaches with Orange-Vanilla Mascarpone

2 large firm peaches

1 large orange

2 tbsp brown sugar

1/2 tsp ground allspice

1/2 tsp ground ginger

6 oz. mascarpone cheese

2 tsp honey (or to taste)*

1 or 1/2 vanilla pod

1 cup berries for garnish (blueberries, raspberries, black raspberries or any combination)

*For a slightly firmer and sweeter mascarpone topping, add about 1/2 cup of confectioner's sugar and beat with an electric mixer

Directions press "ENTER" after each step

Add Sections

Cut peaches in half, twisting to separate halves and remove pit.

Grate about 1 tbsp of orange zest and set aside; squeeze the juice from the orange into a bowl.

Add brown sugar, allspice and ginger to the orange juice and mix together. Place peaches into large Ziploc bag and pour orange juice mixture over peaches. Seal bag, tossing to coat peaches evenly with mixture.

Place mascarpone in a bowl. Split vanilla pod with a sharp knife and scrape the inside - add to the mascarpone and discard pod. Add orange zest and honey and combine well. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.

Preheat lightly oiled grill to medium heat. Place peach halves, cut side down, onto grill and close cover. Grill about 3 minutes or until you get good grill marks. Flip over and grill skin side another 3 minutes or so. Remove from grill.

To serve, place one peach half on plate and top with a dollop of mascarpone filling. Garnish with berries and serve.

Lovely Leftovers - Mediterranean Fish Tacos

2010-07-12T07:00:00.005-04:00

The other night, I was in the mood for fish and in the mood for something "Mediterranean"...tomatoes, basil, mint, kalamata olives (which I suddenly have found myself suddenly loving after despising for many, many years...), so I stopped by the local fish market and splurged on some halibut and set off to find a recipe that would transport me to Greece or Italy.

While I went back and forth between creating a recipe or finding the right one, I decided to play around with a couple ideas I had...

First, a bulb of fennel had been sitting in my refrigerator for almost too long, and I needed to do something with it. I decided to roast it with some other veggies, add some chopped tomatoes and seasonings and call it a Mediterranean salsa of sorts....

I love when experiments turn out successful!

The end result was Roasted Fennel and Tomato Salsa. I roasted fennel, onions, garlic and red pepper, and mixed it with fresh tomatoes. You could leave everything raw, too, or you could roast the tomatoes. But I love the sweetness of roasted fennel and onions, but not mushy overcooked tomatoes, so I went half and half. This really came out well! I can see it as a side for fish or chicken, or even as a dip for toasted pita wedges or a bruschetta topping.

Next up was something to make with this gorgeous bunch of fresh mint I bought at Davidian Farms - it called to me from between the cilantro and parsley. I was getting ideas for uses for my new "salsa" so I decided to make this with half the mint...

Zesty Mint Pesto.

Half mint, half parsley, garlic, shallot, toasted walnuts and olive oil. I honestly don't eat a lot of mint, but I have found that I enjoy it.

So, since I spent so much time being creative with my condiments, I was running out of ideas for my fish dinner. I ended up finding a perfectly lovely halibut recipe on Allrecipes, Easy Mediterranean Fish...halibut baked in foil packets with tomatoes, onions, kalamata olives, capers and seasonings. It was DELICIOUS!!!!

In the background is another fabulous side dish from AR, Herbed Greek Roasted Potatoes with Feta Cheese. Oh, my! I highly recommend that one!

So, I had leftover halibut (that they don't exactly give away these days, so you KNOW there was no way the dogs were getting their chops on this one) and a couple of interesting condiments. Whatever shall I do?

How about Mediterranean Fish Tacos? After all, when you think Mediterranean, you think tacos, right?

If I was the kind of girl who planned ahead, I would have had some nice sundried tomato and basil wraps to use, but I used plain old flour tortillas, warmed slightly in the microwave. A little reheated fish, along with the toppings, some Roasted Fennel and Tomato Salsa and a dribble of Zesty Mint Pesto....

Fold it over and enjoy!

I totally forgot feta cheese! I meant to add some, but I just couldn't restrain myself any further! These were really, REALLY tasty! So good that I might not wait for leftover fish to have them again!

And my two new concoctions have lots of promise...I'm planning on using the pesto on some pasta, a marinade and to toss some roasted potatoes in. The salsa will be a great side to chicken, fish or maybe I'll do that bruschetta type appy I was thinking of. Maybe even use it - or both - on some funky new pizza!

Sunday in My City - Mass Central Rail Trail

2010-07-11T12:52:00.014-04:00

Well, HELLO THERE! Remember me?

I haven't been around too much lately - you know, that thing called life has been pretty demanding. I guess that's a good thing!

Like most of the United States, it's been unbearably hot and humid here in New England. Really messed up my plans! By the time I was ready to fit strawberry picking in my schedule, the strawberries (which came about 2 to 3 weeks early in these parts) were gone. Blueberry season is usually starting full force in mid-July...nope, those beautiful blue babies were ripe and ready two weeks ago, although they will be around into July, thankfully. They are my favorite so it would be a shame to miss them completely!

A brief, but relieving rain storm came through these parts yesterday afternoon, so I figured today would be a good day to get out and maybe go for a little walk or hike, and of course, document it for Sunday in My City. If you're not familiar, Unknown Mami started this great idea of getting out and showing folks what's going on in your neck of the woods this Sunday! She's visiting Golden Gate Park today, and has some beautiful shots of a heron on her blog!

Anyway, here's what went down in my "city" today....

My husband worked 38 hours straight (yes, 38) so he was napping. I decided it would be best to get my 5 year old (as of last Saturday - Happy Birthday, Gracie!!) out of the house. I figured that rain and the slightly cooler weather that followed would make hiking a good choice. So we headed out to the Central Mass Rail Trail, which runs right through my town.

Rail Trails have been popping up all over the place, and they are wonderful! Around here, old railroad lines have been pulled up and converted into walking/hiking/biking trails, hence the name "Rail Trail". Eventually, you'll be able to walk right across Massachusetts, from Cape Cod to the Berkshires, but they're still working on a few gaps. Lucky for us, we have several well-established trails here in central Massachusetts. The one we visited today runs from Sterling to Oakham, through some of the prettiest woodlands I've seen.

There are many places you can jump onto the trail - we chose one not too far away, and pulled into the tiny parking lot. Our first site was this...

A quaint, charming little garden! It really was a nice surprise.

We even got our first glimpse of wildlife....

Then we headed down the trail. We were near the Quinapoxet River, which is part of the Wachusett Watershed...we visited Wachusett Reservoir a while back. Well, the Quinapoxet River leads to Wachusett Reservoir, which is the second larger reservoir in Massachusetts, and supplies drinking water to many communities between Worcester and Boston. For that reason, motorized vehicles are not allowed, and the trails are well-maintained and patrolled. In different areas, you may be limited as to what you can and cannot do. These signs are all over the place...

Where we were today, there were no dogs, no horseback riding, no motorized vehicles, no camping...basically you can walk, bike, fish, picnic (no fires, of course), canoe and in the winter, cross country ski.

At first the trail was comfortable, cool and shady, and a little breeze in the air.

I'm convinced my daughter is going to be something of a naturalist, because all she talked about was all the wild animals she wanted to see. This was one of them...

We walked along and came to a river - I;m not sure if it was actually the Quinapoxet, as I think that was on the other side of the road we drove in on, but down a steep hill was a pretty rambling river. Nearby, here and there, are stone benches you can take a break on.

"Mommy, look! Green stuff! What's that called again?"

Moss. I have a thing for moss, the cool feel of it, the earthy scent of it. I guess she inherited that from me, because she is fascinated by moss!

The main trail is wide enough to support a car, however there are hundred of footpaths and bike trails that run off the main trail.

We explored a few but never did find a way to get down to the river's edge.

We DID find some wild blueberries! A few were ripe, but I'm not sure you're allowed to pick berries here. I'll check on that for next time, because wild blueberries are amazing.

Here's another bike path than wandered off into the woods.

Back on the main trail, the sun started beating down on us and it was MUGGY! Thankfully, regular patches of shade sheltered us from the heat.

Eventually we came upon a bridge. We had seen this from above and finally found our way to it.

Here's the river from one side of the bridge.

All in all, we were out for about an hour and a half, yet we were never more than several miles from our house, and probably not more than a mile from the main road. Aside from insects, the only wildlife we saw were several birds and 762 chipmunks. Perhaps next time we'll make it to the river to see some frogs, turtles and fish!

Well, hope you enjoyed our little hike! What's going on in your neck of the woods today?

Sunday In My City - #1...There's a City Over There

2010-04-18T15:07:00.025-04:00

Well, I had big plans for this weekend...cleaning, of course, that oft-ignored chore of mine. But lucky for me as I was chopping up veggies for a chopped salad yesterday afternoon, my trusty Wusthof knife revolted and, well, I nearly chopped my thumb off.

So maybe that's not lucky...I don't know, I guess it depends on how much you hate housework.

And maybe I exaggerate ever so slightly...I cut my thumb, but not enough to need stitches, so I guess it's not that bad.

Just enough to get me out of any really heavy-duty cleaning! So, yeah....let's call it lucky!

Today was the day two of a rather dismal, drizzly, cool spring weekend here in Massachusetts, the eve of the esteemed Boston Marathon which I won't be running this year due to my injured thumb (and the fact that, well, I don't run....) and although I'm reading a really good book right now, "Water For Elephants" by Sara Gruen, I was feeling kind of bored. And it wasn't just me...someone else had a touch of cabin fever, too...

So, off we went for a ride, not knowing where to go or what to do. I did have my camera with me, and as we headed north I remembered Joanna from The Fifty Factor participates in a really cool feature called Sunday In My City, inspired by Unknown Mami's Sunday In My City. I always thought it was a cool idea! So, there it was settled - I would set out to do my own "Sunday In My City" post.

Only thing is....I don't live in a city. I live in a town. And while I live in the pretty much residential side of town, near a city, the further north you go, the more rural it gets. I'm talking quaint farmland, unspoiled forest and herds of buffalo roaming the fields.

Oh, you don't believe me?

Here, take a closer look!

Yes, just north of here, off a winding rural road near the center of a small New England town is the Alta Vista Bison Farm. It started out as a dairy farmed nestled on a hillside in Rutland, MA but a while back they sold all the cows and started raising bison. It's a neat place, with a little gift shop that sells bison meat, chicken, fresh eggs as well as Native American crafts and music. I make a pretty mean bison burger, but have not cooked a whole lot with other cuts of meat yet. Visiting the farm made me realize I should do that, supporting a local business and expand my horizons a little bit.

Anyway, it's a quaint little farm with a breathtaking view, even on a gloomy day...

We left the farm and headed back to civilization. I think I'm liking this "Sunday In My City" idea, but my little two-horse town (Seriously. Their names are Lexi and Brandy) surely isn't enough fodder for a weekly blog post, so maybe in the future I'll travel to neighboring towns or cities and capture what's going on there!

Next stop was another quaint New England town, Princeton. This is one of my favorite New England towns - it has the prettiest town center, scenic roads, lots of conservation land, places to hike and even a ski resort at Mount Wachusett. Although you're only 40 miles west of Boston, Princeton takes you back in time when you visit.

In the center of town is a wide, grassy common near the junction of several scenic roads. The shot above is from the top of the common near the library and town hall.

This is the town hall....

...and this is the library.

Isn't it gorgeous? There a lot of granite buildings here in New England - nearly every town or village has a church or historic municipal building built with granite from New England. The bell in the clock tower chimes every hour (we learned that about 7 minutes after that photo was taken).

Across the street from the library is a church.

I don't attend church that often, but churches are perhaps my favorite type of building, particularly old ones like this. The combination of architecture and spirituality always warms my heart.

As you cross the common, there's a gazebo - they do use it for band concerts in the summer time. Today, the only visitors were me and Grace.

Beyond the gazebo there's another church. perched on the side of a hill.

I always liked this one, too. It may be small in stature, but the view behind it is very cool.

Today I could just barely make it out with my eyes - you probably can't see it in this photo - but off in the distance is the Boston skyline. On a clear day you can easily make out the Prudential Center and sometimes even see teeny little birds (airplanes) take off and descend towards Logan Airport.

Funny how my daughter and I could be the only two people standing on a town common, looking at a city 40 miles away where one of the most famous marathons, the Boston Marathon, will begin in less than 24 hours.

That's one of the things I love about where I live. Nothing is far away.

What's your Sunday like? Head over to Unknown Mami and join the fun!

Sunday Morning Smoothie and a Not So Smooth Afternoon

2010-04-11T14:36:00.021-04:00

I inadvertently resurrected my Sunday Morning Smoothie feature....

We had a busy day planned, as we're finishing up cleaning out my late mother-in-law's house, preparing to put it on the market. My job today was going to be to steam clean the living room carpet once they got the last of the junk out to the dumpster. I needed something refreshing to get me going so here's what I threw into a blender:

Chocolate Berry Almond Smoothie

1/2 cup nonfat plain yogurt

1/2 cup chocolate flavored soy milk

1/2 cup frozen blueberries

5 or 6 strawberries, fresh or frozen

2 tsp. ground flaxmeal*

1 tbsp. almond butter

1 tsp. honey or sweetener of your choice (optional)

Whizz everything except the honey in your blender - add honey if necessary.

Yum! Usually I toss in a half of a frozen banana, but I was out of stock today. And on the flax, the last bag of flax I bought was Bob's Red Mill Golden Flax, and I love it. It's much "softer" than regular flax, so in smoothies you don't get that gritty texture of milled seeds, it's more velvety. Baked goods I can go either way, but for smoothies the golden flax is my new best smoothie friend!

But not all that starts out smoothly ends smoothly. Plans for steam cleaning were nixed (okay, so that's not a bad thing, really!) and it was decided by the powers that be (my husband and his sister, who is heading back home to Florida tomorrow) that the family was going to take a ride to the happiest place on earth, Kimball Farm. Home of the most awesomest ice cream (sometimes) in the world. German Chocolate Fudge - fabulously chocolate ice cream with ripples of caramel, coconut, pecans and fudge. Heaven in a cone, I tell you!

But what's wrong with that, you ask?

This.

It's our broken thermostat. My husband bought new stereo speakers for himself for Christmas, so he decided to give his old ones to one of his brothers who tinkers with stuff like that. As he carried one through the hallway - WHACK! Blood flowed (only a teeny bit), the plastic housing for the thermostat hung precariously from its perch on the wall and the furnace in the basement roared to life...and started to heat the house to a balmy 85 degrees.

There goes my trip to Kimball's! Maybe....

So as we waited for the service guy to arrive, I went and grabbed an iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts and as I drove home I got happy. It's pretty breezy and cool out today, but it feels like spring. Out of nowhere bursts of yellow have appeared, forsythias in bloom.

Ah, the hazy filtering of my filthy windshield.

"You see, officer, I have a blog and wanted to share images of spring with my readers..."

I arrived home to see a loyal pal waiting on the other side of the gate.

I love when Merlin does this, bow down in his "Wanna play?!" stance! He's growling like a polar bear here, a happy playful polar bear.

Since my trip to ice cream heaven may (or may not, depending on how fast Mr Furnace Fixer can get here) be canceled postponed, I took a few minutes to check out some of the sites of spring in my own yard.

The Bradford Pear near our driveway is just about ready to bloom.

Below, our Grape Hyacinths (which I planted here 12 years ago and forgot about...) are about one-third in bloom...

I love the color of these!

The blinding white of our Star Magnolia Shrub contrasts it nicely, don't you think?

(GRRRR! Hey! Who left the camera on "M" for Manual setting????)

Yeah, we'll try that one again later, but not too much later. This beauty doesn't stay in bloom too long.

And in the shade closer to the house, our rhododenrons will soon be in bloom......

We'll revisit this one in a couple weeks!

We've been so busy at my mother-in-laws house that we have not lifted a rake in our own yard, but this little cluster of Forget-Me-Nots doesn't care....

I can't wait to see these in bloom - one of my all-time favorite flowers!

Last Halloween, I dropped one of my decorations, shattering his wing....

As I was holding him over the trash can, I heard the painful cry of a four year old:

"You broke our flying monkey!!! Waaaaaaaah!"

Guiltily, I plopped him on the retaining wall. He will remain there as long as he wants to, watching over the entrance to our home.

And thankfully, protecting Mr Furnace Fixer as he pulls into the driveway...

But is he in time?

The suspense (and lack of ice cream) is killing me!

Later..........

So worth the wait!!!

Spring Colors

2010-04-04T08:52:00.016-04:00

Why is it that I seem to want to take on huge decorating projects the day before a major holiday?

Our house was new - and unfinished - when we bought it, and the first thing that began to get on our nerves as we descended into the realm of home ownership was the fact that every wall, every piece of woodwork, was white. What started out as a bright, clean, crisp look quickly turned into a boring, cold canvas for specks of dirt and fingerprints to appear on. So before long, we had painted every room a different color...and repainted a few. I thought I was happy with the warm, earthy tones we had finally settled upon....golden antique yellow, and array of taupes, deep barn red, a little cool spring green and pale creamy yellow. But suddenly, spring and Easter are in the air and I found myself craving more pastel in my life. So I grabbed a can of base white latex and went about trying to decide what color I should paint the downstairs bathroom...on the eve of Easter.

What most people don't realize is that you can save yourself A LOT of money by blending your own paint. We always have basic white on hand for various touch up work, and I've successfully produced perfect matches to colors we previously had custom-blended at the paint store. So easy, and kind of fun, too!

Yesterday, though, I was working with a plain canvas, so to speak, and divvied up five bowls of white paint, tinted each one a different pastel shade and brushed a little of each on the wall to see if I could decide which one I would go with.

The dyes I used are non-toxic, made from all natural sources (green from kale extract, pink from beets, yellow from turmeric and ground mustard seeds...). This particular paint is not only biodegradable, environment-friendly and made from sustainable products, it's even edible!

In fact, you could pour it into paper liners, bake it at 350 for about 25 minutes and eat it....

Yeah...it's actually cupcake batter!

(April Fool's!)

No, I don't really think I fooled anyone...it's just MBG (Me Being Goofy). Too much sugar in the house does that to me!

Anyway, we're having a pretty low-key Easter so we opted for cupcakes. Allrecipes' Rainbow Clown Cake (affectionately known as Clown Vomit Cake) recipe, to be exact!

The recipe is for 2 8" layers, but I got 18 cupcakes out of it. For cupcakes, you place about a teaspoon or two of each color in the paper liners.

You can swirl with a toothpick, or leave as is for a "rainbow" layered look. I did swirl a little.

Now for the fun part!

Traditionally, we use two designs for Easter - Bunny Cupcakes and Easter Basket Cupcakes. Neither are my idea, and both are easy enough for a four year old to assemble.

Make your cupcakes, frost and dip in some shredded coconut, if you want that fluffy bunny look. Then, ask a grown up (or me) to help with the ears.

Take a large marshmallow and cut it in half lengthwise/diagonally with a pair of scissors.

Then dip the sticky inside of the marshmallow halves ...

into colored sugar crystals...

and voila'! Bunny ears! Actually, cat ears, but you can squeeze the marshmallows to make them look longer, thinner like bunny ears.

I spread a little frosting on the bottoms to help adhere to the cupcakes better - stick two on each cupcake like so....

Then make the faces....there are lots of choices. Jellybeans or M&Ms for the eyes, string licorice or icing for the whiskers. We were limited so I used jellybeans for eyes, two mini-marshmallows for the bunny "face" or cheeks, I guess, and icing for the whiskers and mouth.

Cute and fun!

Here's what the cupcake looks like on the inside...

I thought they came out very pretty! And they are pretty tasty, too.

(Ahem....You in the upper left corner! STEP AWAY FROM THE CUPCAKES!)

oh well, LET THE SUGAR RUSH...BEGIN!!!

The other design is oh-so-simple....Easter baskets!

Frost the cupcakes, then dip in coconut tinted with food coloring, a few jelly beans and a stick of licorice. I found brown Hershey's chocolate licorice this year...

Another easy and pretty Easter treat!

Enjoy your Easter, everyone! :)

P.S. ....I really DO feel like painting now!

EGGS-actly!

2010-04-03T15:40:00.011-04:00

We used to always see this commercial on television when we were younger. The theme song has been going through my head all day...

See, here in New England, we pretty much only see white eggs around Easter time. The rest of the year you tend to avoid them because, well, they must be sub-standard, rejects, overstock from some far away place because...

Brown Eggs Are Local Eggs, And Local-Eggs-Are-Fresh!!

Yes, I have no idea if it's true or not, but I always lean towards the brown eggs because brown-eggs-are-local-eggs-and-local-eggs-are-fresh. It's been drilled into my head since infancy.

Now THESE! ...I have no idea where these came from....

I'm going to guess this one is from the midwest, where amber waves of grain blow in the breeze...

This one? Hawaii...

This has got to from the Amazon, so I'll say Brazil....

Who Dat?! Hello, New Orleans....

Ah, some place in the Caribbean, maybe Aruba ...

This one? It reminds me of the ocean, so I'm going to say somewhere off the coast of Maine...or maybe the Azores...

This one reminds me of Arizona for some reason...must be the turquoise in it!

THIS is my favorite one....

All the way from Romania, where one of the Weasley brothers is working with dragons....

It looks like a dragon egg, doesn't it?

Just for the record, we did nothing special to achieve this special effect...we just plopped this one in the blue dye and, um, forgot about it...for about an hour.

I'm doing that again NEXT year!

Happy Easter, everyone!

Spring Has Sprung!

2010-03-25T15:54:00.007-04:00

Do you see what I see????

That's what I saw yesterday afternoon when I went to check on my little pots of dirt...if you look really close, you can see one - yes! - One little sproutlet! An itsy bitsy, teeny weeny Green Zebra Tomato Plant!

And the shocking thing - to me anyway - is that it was a seed in an envelope 6 days earlier! AND, it was a packet of seeds I had purchased LAST year, but never opened!

I always say, I usually do pretty good with outdoor plants, but houseplants I destroy nearly as soon as they arrive, so I always get nervous when I try to start seeds indoors. Will my black houseplant thumb mistake these "outdoor" sprouts for its victims? I hope not...I have a lot of little pots of dirt hanging around!

But 24 four hours later - exactly one week from planting half of my seeds - I came home to this....

Front row is Morning Sun - they are taking the lead! I can't believe they grew this fast in one day - I must have missed them yesterday.

Here's some new friends for Green Zebra...Steve will be happy. Looks like his Fox Cherry tomatoes are going strong!

A couple other tomatoes are starting to peep out, too, but I couldn't get a good enough shot.

This is the most remarkable one, though.

Hard to see, but there are two little greenish sprouts coming up, one in each of these two pots. Those are broccoli....that I planted Sunday. Four days ago!

I hope that's a good sign!

I can breathe a little sigh of relief now that some of the seeds have germinated. I always have that fear that I'll plant all these seeds and nothing will grow.

Now if I can just keep the cats away...

Thanks for stopping by!

Come On, Spring!

2010-03-21T21:21:00.016-04:00

It don't look like much.....yet.

But the season has begun!

And this year I seem to be more excited about the vegetable garden than ever. I think that's maybe because Grace is almost five, so when we're out in the yard she no longer demands my complete attention. She likes to go off on her own a bit and go on "treasure hunts" or work on her own "garden" ... both involve piles of rocks, a shovel and mud. And this year she even planted her own tray of flowers and food, although I'm not sure how those twelve watermelon plants are going to do in that one four-inch pot.

I started my seedlings March 18th, and pretty much finished them up today. Just about everything else has to be planted where it will grow - things like winter squash, zucchini, cucumbers don't transplant well for me, and of course root vegetables don't either. I even decided to keep a journal, especially since this year I, um, went a little overboard purchasing seeds!

So far, this is what I've got:

Tomatoes: Green Zebra (green, striped), Sungold Select (small, orange cherry variety), Striped Roman (really cool-looking! Red roma type with yellow striping), Fox Cherry Red (hubby's favorite), Hazelfield Farm (big red heirloom from Appalachia), Orange Flesh Purple Smudge (I can't even picture it...), Morning Sun (where'd THAT come from? Did I even buy those seeds?)

Peppers: Italian Pepperoncini, Jimmy Nardello Italian (sweet Italian pepper), Anaheim, Patio Red Marconi (these might end up in pots on the deck - they're like an Italian all-purpose sweet pepper, bright red when ripe), Cayenne chili peppers, good ol' California Wonder Bell, and eight - yes, eight - Jalapeno's!

Cruciferous: Cauliflower - Purple of Sicily, and Broccoli - George's Favorite Blend (my grandfather's name was George, so that's why I picked this one)

And I even started some of the herbs, although I usually have good luck throwing the seeds in a pot or the garden and forgetting about them. So far, Thai Sweet Basil, Lime Basil, Siam Queen Thai Basil (clove-scented, they say) and lots of Oregano. Two other Italian Sweet Basil's will once again be sown in a window box I keep on my deck as well as a couple rows in the garden. And finally, Summer Savory.

All that's left to do now is wait....

Meanwhile, here's a glance at gardens past....

"Memories....Light the corner of my mind...."

Herbs and peppers on the corner of the deck....

Hot cherry peppers and jalapenos after a summer rain....

"Misty, watercolor memories.....

The vegetable garden of 2008 - my first "real" one on a long time...tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, cucumbers, spaghetti squash, butternut, zucchini, summer squash and even a pumpkin (didn't make it, though)

"What's too painful to remember......

....We simply choose to-oooh fo-orget...."

Yes, 2008 was the ice storm, so 2009 we decided we should count our blessings that it didn't fall on us and take down the old maple...

Some of us were more upset about that than others...

Even Martha helped with the clean up...

In fact, it didn't cost us a thing to have it hauled away...Martha just ate it.

BURP!

And as I was browsing through old garden photos, I came upon this one.

That's the one good thing about this time of year...everything is cleared out, so hopefully THIS YEAR we'll be able to maintain this area behind our garage!

So tell me, how does YOUR garden grow? :)

(P.S. Martha can be rented out - cheap! - if you have any major cleaning up to do!)

Our Life In Pets - A Tale of Two Newfoundlands

2010-03-19T19:09:00.072-04:00

A long, long time ago...at an animal shelter far far away....

Well, no, it was Halloween 2008, and only about four miles from my house actually! Funny how fate steps in sometimes.....

It had been over three years, and although I knew I wanted another Newfoundland some day, I was not ready. In fact, I wasn't even thinking of it that day I clicked on the Worcester Animal Rescue League's website - I intended to just send an email to the director, offering to donate something, a television we had received as part of a furniture store promotion, for them to use or sell or raffle off. Of course, how can you not take a quick glance through the pets available for adoption! So I did, and the first photo was a Newfoundland named "Snowflake".

But was I ready?.....

***********************************************

In August of 2005, my daughter was 6 weeks old. Our beloved Newfoundland, Daisy, was the ideal family pet - she was obviously enamored of the new little person we had brought home, but Daisy maintained a respectful distance, never poking her nose where it didn't belong, showing the perfect balance of interest and indifference towards our new baby girl. She would wait patiently, without being told to, in the hall outside of Grace's room while I changed a diaper or put her down in her crib. During those 2:00 A.M. feedings, Daisy would yawn, stretch and come lay at my feet, and would be snoring away by the time we finished up and went back to bed. She proudly strutted along side me, never pulling or tugging at the leash, as I pushed the stroller up and down the street, and when people came over to see the new baby, Daisy patiently waited her turn, tag eternally wagging.

We had had her since puppyhood. In fact, she was the only "puppy" my husband, Steve, or I had ever owned. We had a four year old Great Pyrenees named Seiko at the time and felt it would be best not only to make dog #2 a female, but to get a puppy who would grow up in Seiko's shadow as opposed to coming into the house as an "equal" or potential challenger. Through word of mouth we found a breeder here in Massachusetts who just happened to have a litter due soon. We called back at the appointed time and sure enough, eight baby Newfoundland's had made their way into the world. When we first laid eyes on them, they looked more like chubby black guinea pigs, but one look at the nine adult Newfoundlands that called this 200-plus year old farm their home, including their bouncy, friendly mother, Starr King's China, and their massive and impressively confident father, Apogee's Dimitri of Starr King, and we couldn't write out our deposit check quick enough. Puppy #7-Girl would soon be ours, pending results of her heart check at 10 to 12 weeks.

We were invited back when the puppies were a bit older, but still not ready to go home. Due to the genetic predisposition for some large breed dogs to have heart problems, most breeders won't part with them at the usual six to eight weeks. Registered with the AKC, these puppies would go on to represent the breeder's kennel, be it in the show ring or in regular life, and a good breeder will insist that a puppy with any physical issues be spayed or neutered if they have anything less than perfection to offer the gene pool. Those tests, performed by a board certified cardiologist, can be inconclusive until the age of ten to twelve weeks, so we patiently waited. We visited the old yellow farmhouse once again, this time to frolic with a happy, and apparently healthy litter of eight week old Newfoundland puppies.

One of them, a puppy with a Lavender string around her neck, sat on my foot, chewed on my boot laces and then rolled over for a tummy rub. Ironically, she was also Puppy #7-Girl.

She was our's! And a few weeks later when we received the all-clear from the cardiologist, she came home. After debating between Molly and Ursa and several other names, we named her Daisy. And since "Swamp Thing" was on tv that day, her official registered name was Starr King's Swamp Daisy.

Daisy had personality to spare from the get-go. She was a little shell-shocked from the upheaval, and when we arrived home to be greeted by our neighbor's barking Pomeranian, she hid behind me, terrified. However, when 160-pound Seiko came outside for an introduction, she lit up as if to say "I don't know what the heck that little yapping thing is, but I know YOU! You're a DOG!" She took to him immediately, and he, being the good dog that he was, tolerated her until he realized several days later "Hey! I can PLAY with this thing!" Daisy, it turned out, loved cats and children and fetching and cuddling. She was housebroken in about two days, and made friends everywhere she went.

As she grew, we realized part of her sweetness was that little touch of insecurity, like when the electricity went out and she felt the need to sit in my lap. At 100-plus pounds. Or when she barked, particularly when someone was walking up the driveway...she gave it everything she had, her whole body flowing into that "AAAAHH-WOOOOOOO-WOOOOO-WOOOOOO!" She was very vocal, greeting you with either throaty but friendly growls, or a symphony of whining. She loved the outdoors...but not alone. She would go outside and 30 seconds later would be at the door, whining to come in. If we were outside and she was in, we were inevitably made aware of her dissatisfaction by her plaintive howls. She was lazy, much preferring rides in the car to long walks, she disliked the cold, disliked the extreme heat - she could not sleep without the air conditioner on in the summer, and would sit in front of it, willing it to suddenly roar to life on hot days. She ate her food, then pushed Seiko out of the way to finish his food for him. She slept on her back with four paws in the air. She snored. She was afraid of "people on wheels", bicycles, skateboards, wheelchairs. She loved cats and children and holding her leash in her mouth while you took her...or maybe, she took YOU... for a walk. And while most Newfoundlands are instinctively attracted to water and swimming, Daisy's idea of water rescue was to drink the lake so the drowning person could get up and walk to shore.

But she was sweet, loyal, loving and had a personality that always made you smile. Even when you were miserable at work, or you began to feel fat and ugly, or destined to be childless, or your mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, or you watched as the families of six fallen firefighters mourned them, and eventually buried them. I could not look at Daisy without smiling. Her goofy, lovable attitude was contagious! She was the definition of unconditional love.

Daisy, October 2004

After the initial shock, several years later, of finding out I was pregnant, we started to think of practical things, like work schedules, and whose insurance plan we should go on and, oh yeah, guess we should get married, huh? When it came time to the pets, we were more apprehensive about the new dog, Merlin, and the three spoiled rotten cats, Max, Elsa And Wally, than we were Daisy. We did not know Merlin well, but Daisy was like a soulmate and a nanny, and we trusted her implicitly with all things great or small. She had adopted Max when he came to us as an orphaned kitten, and you could see the pride in her as she licked him and nudged him and wagged her tail so he could amuse himself by chasing it. We knew Daisy was getting older, but I envisioned my old, gentle, wise Newfoundland and a young toddler, just learning to walk, being the best of friends. There wasn't a better dog to be a child's first dog than Daisy. We looked forward to those days.

Saturday, August 13th, 2005, started out normal. Steve's birthday was the following day, but he had to work so we were celebrating that night with steaks, baked potato, corn on the cob and for dessert, his favorite, Duncan Hines Fudge Marble Cake with Betty Crocker Chocolate Frosting. Even the dogs, Daisy and Merlin, got a treat - ground beef and brown rice - for we always liked to include our pets in our family celebrations. Funny thing was, though, that Daisy took one nibble, then just stood there looking at her bowl. Very strange for her. But she wasn't acting sick or anything, so we just figured she wasn't in the mood for hamburger and rice.

But the next morning, I became increasingly worried. As I doled out two scoops of dry kibble for each dog, Daisy trotted happily to her bowl, sniffed, looked at me and walked away. I had saved some of the beef and rice from the night before so I warmed it and added it to her bowl. She would not eat it. While she did not exhibit signs of illness, I began to grow paranoid. We live at the corner of a somewhat busy street, and while I totally trusted my neighbors, the fear that a stranger had thrown something into the yard - something toxic - began to grow. On that hot and humid August day, I wrapped Grace in a light cotton blanket and went out into the yard to look for evidence. Of course there was nothing.

Daisy still showed no signs of illness, other than loss of appetite, when Monday morning came but she still wouldn't eat so I called the vet. They heard the worry in my voice, and squeezed in an appointment that afternoon. We were relieved, expecting that perhaps tests would show some sort of parasite, maybe? Or very worst case scenario, a mild blockage of sorts. Something curable.

We were wrong.

Within two minutes of greeting us in the examination room, the kindly, female veterinarian, a new mom herself, sadly nodded her head as she listened to Daisy's heart. It didn't take a battery of tests to determine the diagnoses: dilated cardiomyopathy. Basically, an enlarged heart, resulting in poor circulation. The loss of appetite was part of a vicious cycle - since she wasn't eating or drinking, Daisy was becoming dehydrated, and therefore her circulation was getting poorer, resulting in her feeling worse and an increased loss of appetite. Heart condition aside, Daisy was going to starve to death and her other organs would start to fail if we didn't get her to eat.

At first, it wasn't all bleak. The vet said with medication, she would feel better, eat and drink, and we could conceivably have another ten months with her, living a good quality of life. She suggested blood work, to make sure she didn't have anything else going on, as well as perhaps and ultrasound to see if there was anything physical that might be contributing to her illness. They drew the blood, and we scheduled an appointment for the ultrasound for the very next day.

Tuesday morning rolled around, and as usual I was up early with the baby. I cooked a chicken breast for Daisy, and while she seemed excited at first, she just sniffed and walked away. When the clock struck nine, I called the vet to see if they had the results of the bloodwork.

It was not good.

"Unfortunately, Daisy is not a candidate for the heart meds. There's something going on with her liver..."

I grappled with this, having lost my cat, Sabrina to some obscure, never actually diagnosed liver disease...to this day, they refer to it as "The Sabrina Syndrome".

The vet continued..."Why don't you bring her in. We can still do the ultrasound, or maybe even an x-ray to see if there's anything we might have missed. Anything physical."

Turns out, her liver was enlarged, and our last hope of perhaps finding some sort of scar tissue on her heart, a faulty valve or a tumor - all scary, but potentially operable - went down the toilet. It was DCM and only DCM, and her organs were indeed beginning to shut down. If we could get some food into her, we could get at best another two weeks. The drugs that would have extended her life would now destroy her liver in its fragile state and kill her.

Wednesday we knew it was inevitable. Daisy had not eaten a thing. Not steak or tuna or ice cream. And now she was beginning to look sick, beginning to get weak. She could no longer walk up or down stairs, and needed help getting up. Steve had taken to sleeping downstairs with her. That night, I patted Daisy goodnight, put Grace in her crib and fell into bed, emotionally exhausted, hoping to catch a few hours sleep. And after crying myself to sleep, I drifted off.

I had a dream. I dreamed that Daisy, like she had done pretty much every night since she earned the right to roam free in the house, flung open the bedroom door with her nose, trudged into the room and like so many times before, sniffed my face before settling down on the floor next to my side of the bed. I felt the real-life tears well up inside me, and I fought them, wanting to stay asleep and enjoy this beautiful dream of my dying dog. And then, in a flash of realization, I felt panting on my face just before Daisy greeted me with big lick to my cheek! It was no dream! She had indeed dragged herself up the stairs to resume her normal sleeping position on the floor next to our bed!

I jumped up and ran downstairs to tell Steve. He was thrilled, and grabbed his blanket and pillow and came upstairs. Relief flooded our hearts, as maybe, just maybe, the doctor had been wrong. Maybe she was feeling better. Maybe her circulation had improved and her heart was maybe...less enlarged. We would call the vet the next day to report the wonderful news! We slept soundly for the first time in days.

The next morning, my baby began to stir so I crept out of bed. At some point, Daisy had moved to the cool tile of the bathroom floor, which was not at all uncommon. I gave her a smile and a quick pat and then my heart came crashing down again. Her hind legs were splayed outward at uncomfortable angles. No telling how long she had been there, but it was obvious she could not stand on her own. I helped her up, and walked her into our room, a towel holding her up as she could not stand or walk on her own, and fetched her a bowl of water. She lapped at it, but was obviously tired and stressed. I realized why she had made the journey up that flight of stairs to see me. It was to say goodbye.

After the baby was nursed and dressed and placed in the safety of her baby swing, Steve and I helped Daisy downstairs, something that was painfully difficult for her. We called the vet and scheduled an appointment for the next day, Thursday, August 19th, at 11:00 AM. The receptionist who took my call kindly and professionally explained the procedure and our options. We could drop her off, if we preferred, for some pet owners simply cannot bring themselves to be in the room when their dog or cat is euthanized. We had been through this before so I kindly told her we had to be with her. Then she explained that her remains could be disposed of, or we could make arrangements to have Angelview, the pet crematory and cemetary, come pick her up and return her ashes to us via UPS. No thank you, I said, we would take her with us when it was done. Once again, we have been through this before. It was a part of our healing to show our respect and devotion right until the very end.

We cried. Even Merlin, our relative newcomer, seemed to know what was going on. Learning from past mistakes, we took photographs of Daisy, to have something to remember her by.

Max and Daisy, August 17, 2005

The next morning, we arrived, struggling to keep our emotions in check. The receptionist had the paperwork ready for our signature. She explained that there would be no need to come wait in line to pay the fee, they would, as was customary for euthanasia, simply mail us a bill. The ride had been difficult for Daisy and she could not stand. The sweet receptionist punched a few keys on the phone, spoke softly into the mouthpiece and within a few seconds four technicians trotted out with a stretcher, lifted our dog onto it and carried her into the examination room.

So many tears. My husband has seen during his career a thousand people dead or dying, and rarely shed a tear. He had literally sifted through the rubble of a tragic fire, finding pieces of bone and teeth of men he knew and worked with. He had been present when the body of a missing child was found under the ice in the western part of Massachusetts, after days of searching for her. But through all of those events, he never cried the way he did at the animal hospital that day. And although I had just told my doctor at my six-week post partum check up, "Nope! Not a sign of depression or baby blues at all!", the floodgates opened as Daisy silently slipped away, and I cried like I had never cried before. Even the vet, and the tough-as-nails technician, struggled to hold back tears. Being a man, Steve felt he needed to go take care of the bill as they prepared Daisy's body to be loaded into our car for the ride to the pet crematory. I numbly followed him, and I know this sounds weird, but I was so comforted when I saw that the receptionist was drying her eyes, too. For nearly nine years, the staff had tended to our pets, and the "people with the big white dog and the big black dog" were no strangers to them. It was a comfort to know they loved our Daisy, too. I felt sorry for all those who had never had the opportunity to meet her. We finished what needed to be done, endured yet another wave of tears at Angelview, and returned to a seemingly empty house. Yes, even though we had a beautiful new baby, a big white dog and three cats. The house felt cold and empty.

I saw about four Newfies over the next couple of years, and cried every time. It got to be a joke of sorts - we'd run into a Newfie and her owner at the pet store, and as my husband rolled his eyes, I'd be on my knees, arms wrapped around the neck of a bewildered but patient Newf, sobbing into her fur as the owner awkwardly tugged at the leash. I didn't think I could ever own another one. Daisy had been too special.

But then came "Snowflake".....

(This phot0 is entitled "Snowflake Marla Martha in The Back Yard"....or simply, "DUH")

Turns out, Snowflake's photo had been posted minutes before I coincidentally clicked on the "Dogs Available for Adoption" link. I called Steve. He called me back twenty minutes later, after taking a ride to the shelter.

"You're gonna want to take her"

Snowflake had been a stray, and had been at the shelter for over a month. Finally, with no luck locating an owner, they spayed her, let her recover and placed her on the available list. I fell in love with her not because she reminded me of Daisy, but because she was so different from Daisy! Daisy, as goofy as she was, had an air of dignity around her. Snowflake? Snowflake was hyper, crazy, stupid, happy from the moment I saw her. The differences between her and Daisy made me really consider taking her home.

Was I ready for another Newfoundland?

To be honest, I still wasn't totally sure when on Halloween, we brought her home.

And somewhere in doggie heaven, Daisy is laughing.

"I never did that!" Ah, sweet Daisy! Some day I shall tell them about the Sunflower Saga....

Meanwhile, Martha (named after the talking dog in PBS' show, "Martha Speaks"), has endeared herself to us. No, Daisy never ate our dinner, and with the exception of her puppy-teething years, was not destructive in any way, shape or form. Daisy trotted happily to greet you when you walked in the door, she didn't gallop at you full speed, knocking over chairs and children in her wake. Daisy never charged at the television set at a dog in a commercial, nor did she ever crash head first into the sliding glass door. Daisy didn't eat...everything. Martha sleeps downstairs, barricaded in the hallway, because she not only EATS EVERYTHING, she has a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and pounce on you as you sleep.

But as our daughter grew, Martha calmed down. She still makes me crazy with the disasters that seem to follow her around, but I can handle a bit of destructive behavior when it's accompanied by the undying devotion Martha has shown towards Grace.

I guess we ended up realizing those visions of Newf and child after all.

So, a couple weeks ago we noticed that Martha's fur had gotten out of control. You see, unlike Daisy, Martha thinks grooming is a game and she won't stand still for it very long.

So, we decided to take her to the groomers. The mats in her fur were insurmountable to the average pet owners, so we agree to let the groomer pretty much shave her down, leaving just about an inch of coat. She came home looking like a Labrador Retriever on steroids.

Once again, I found comfort in knowing this was NOT Daisy!

They did leave a "poof" at the tip of her tail, though!

No, not Daisy.....

...but we love her just the same. :)

Sunday Morning ...And The Consequences of A Noisy Blender

2010-02-28T10:54:00.024-05:00

Well, my little scheme for enjoying a Sunday morning smoothie kind of fizzled out, didn't it? :)

Honestly, I love the idea, but I also love the peace and quiet I get when I'm the only one up on weekend mornings...my blender, on the other hand, thinks that if IT has to be woken up at 7:00 AM on a Sunday morning, then EVERYONE has to wake up at 7:00.

It's very, very...VERY loud.

So this morning, when I woke up (first...yeah!), I really wanted a smoothie, but we were all up past our bedtimes last night and the man and the child needed to catch up on sleep. They don't drink coffee. I do. Sleep? Schmeep! Just pour me another cup, Martha! So I started looking around for something quick, but good and different...something that would be a splurge, but not extremely decadent, like oh, I don't know...Biscuits and Chocolate Gravy? Nah, that's not decadent at all.....

Luckily, I remembered a pancake recipe I came across on Allrecipes recently - Peanut Butter and Jelly Oatmeal Pancakes. Oatmeal's good for you, right? :) Actually, it's not a bad recipe, nutritionally, and I replaced the eggs with egg substitute to further improve it. I wish I had taken pictures while they cooked, but alas, the dogs, Martha and Merlin, and the human child had awoken....they are a tag team, you know. One distracts while the other two maneuver within snatching distance. So I sort of had my hands full! Some of the reviews on Allrecipes indicated the pancakes were thin...not so here! Not sure if it was the egg substitute instead of eggs, if that makes any sense, or the fact that I do not know the meaning of "until just blended" and I mixed the crap out of my batter, but then let it sit while I refereed a game of touch football between two dogs and a 4 year old in the dining room. Whatever mystical chemical reaction happened in my kitchen this morning, it resulted in very thick, beautiful, golden brown pancakes that, when topped with melted raspberry preserves and a few banana slices, looked like this:

The pancake recipe, which you can find HERE, only calls for a teaspoon of sugar, so the cakes themselves are not very sweet at all...a good thing if you're going to microwave some fruits preserves and drizzle them all over. Chocolate syrup wouldn't be bad, either! I mean, it would be bad, but in a good kind of way...I can picture this as a birthday special request breakfast or maybe a morning after sleepover breakfast with maybe chocolate chips in the batter, a dollop of marshmallow fluff and some chocolate syrup...

See, I knew I'd lead myself back to Biscuits and Chocolate Gravy!

Which reminds me! I am flattered to receive this from The Ordinary Housewife:

and

It was she who introduced me to Biscuits and Chocolate Gravy on her blog - make sure you stop by and visit her if you're not already a regular like me!

I'm horrible at doing this, but I do want to share these with a few other blogs:

First my new bloggie buddy, Angeltastic at Full Circle...she's not only a friend, but she's like a blood relative to me. Probably because...SHE IS! Her mother and my mother are sisters! Yes, I have mentioned my sweet cousin before, perhaps when I had a little too much to drink at a certain cocktail party at my dear friend, Willoughby's place, This Stop Willoughby. So, stop by her brand new blog and say hello to "Beth" (not her real name, she just likes to be called that...tee hee!).

I also wanted to mention Bella Della - she lives on a farm that to me is a little piece of heaven and I just love her photography and stories! I stumbled upon her blog looking for information on Texasware bowls, and I keep coming back for more!

And finally, a shout out to MySweetCreations - I've been an admirer of her photography and talent with all things sweet over on Allrecipes, and I'm so happy she decided to start a blog of her own. You'll like it, too!

Since I never know what to do with awards, I'm also breaking the rules a bit! So please accept these awards - pass them on if you like, play along if you feel like it, but just know that I wanted to give you a shout out because I enjoy your blogs! ,I think you're supposed to share seven things about yourself...but what don't you know about me?

1.) I own a noisy blender

2.) Nearly all of my food photos are taken in the bay window of my living room

3.) I often wonder if Gene Simmons (if it was him) ever thinks of that weird girl he saw at Logan Airport circa 1979...

4.) I want to own a farm some day...meanwhile, I'm keeping Baker Creek Seeds in business with my insanity.

5.) I'm still looking for a Texasware bowl to replace the one that broke several years ago

6.) I haven't set foot in an antique shop in almost five years (the perils of having a four and a half year old!)

7.) We had Martha shaved down yesterday because her coat was just incredibly matted....If I can stop laughing at her long enough, I'll post some pictures soon!

Happy Sunday, everyone!

The Snowman Returns

2010-02-24T23:03:00.009-05:00

Hey...

I know you!

It's Mr. Frosty! Welcome back, friend! We were saddened by your sudden departure last December, but glad to see you again...maybe the back yard will be a safer place for you to hang out.

We've been pretty lucky so far this winter, what with the mid-Atlantic states getting pummeled with snow and places like Texas seeing the white stuff - for the first time for some residents! We really can't complain about this winter.

But today I had a planned day off from work, and that ended up being a good decision because we got hit with a pretty messy storm - technically, we got about 10 inches of snow, but it quickly got packed down when it turned to rain. Yuck! Messy and heavy! I was pooped after just shoveling off our deck!

After the wet, heavy snow was cleared, we decided to go out in the back yard and have some fun. I was hoping the snow would be just right for snowman construction - we caught it just in time! It was actually almost too wet to stick together, and by the time we were putting on the finishing touches, we had to do so delicately. But our old pal, Frosty held himself together pretty well, and cheered us on as we got in a bit of sledding.

We have the perfect kiddie-sized slope in our back yard, and although I miss the mighty maple, it's now much safer for sledding without the danger of crashing into a four foot thick tree trunk at the bottom of the hill.

The best part was, I got to spend time with two of my favorite faces...

This is one of them...

And this is the other...

(Don't you just want to say "Duh" when you look at Martha? Trust me...you do)

Before I thought to get the camera, we hurled a few snowballs for Martha to fetch. Only she doesn't fetch. She just eats the snowballs. And if she can't find the snowball that burrowed under the freshly fallen snow, she eats the freshly fallen snow.

Hmmm. A dog that eats snow.

THAT doesn't bode well for Mr Frosty!

"Oh, hello! What lovely, twiggy arms you have!"

Sniff sniff sniff

"What! I'm being a good dog! Just checking out the scenery....

"Yawn! Kinda boring, actually...."

Wait a minute..."

Smooch! "I love you, man!"

WAIT! MARTHA! Nooooooooooo!

The rest was just too disturbing to photograph.

Maybe the back yard WASN'T the safest place for Mr Frosty to show up after all!

F is for...Fennel

2010-02-21T15:46:00.048-05:00

Finally, I get to share my favorite recipe that utilizes fennel seed!

But first, a story...or maybe a song...

"There was a farmer had a pig, and Thelma was her name-o...."

When I was a kid, we ate whatever was placed in front of us. Fortunately, aside from her penchant for canned green beans, my mother was (and still is) an excellent cook. We did occasionally have Hamburger Helper or frozen pizza, or other hurry up meals like mom's creamed salmon over mashed potatoes (so very ugly, but oh so good!), but she knew her way around a somewhat frugal kitchen and usually there were no complaints about what was on the table come dinnertime. Not like today, when a four year old usually knows that burgers come from cows or ham comes from pig or chicken comes from...well, chicken. I guess that one's pretty easy!

We were animal lovers, yet even though Uncle Frances owned a hobby farm with ducks, chickens, goats, rabbits and three pigs, we always knew which animals it was ok to make friends with and which ones to maintain a certain emotional distance from.

So, despite the fact that I adored Uncle Franny's giant pet pig, Thelma, it never crossed my mind to think of her as we dug into grilled Italian sausages or pork chops or ham. Until one day, several years later, when we had Uncle Franny and Aunt Betty over our house for dinner, serving the best lasagna I ever made - loaded with beef and Italian sausage - salad, homemade rolls and chocolate cream pie for dessert.

At least, not until my mother asked, "Do you still have those pigs of your's, Frances?"

"Oh, no....we slaughtered Willie, but no one could eat him. We sold the other one. And Thelma.....we had to give her up a few years back," my uncle responded with more than a hint of sadness.

Gulp. A mouthful of suddenly sausage-laden lasagna stalled at the back of my throat. Turns out, Thelma got so big (Aunt Betty said she was just under 1,300 pounds, although maybe that could have been a generous estimate....she DID weigh in at over 800 the last time I had seen her...) that she could not be restrained by any man-made pen. Day after day, Thelma broke loose and had to be tracked down and lured back home by a loaf of Wonderbread dangled in front of her snout. It wasn't until Thelma was long gone that I realized, I mean, REALLY realized, where pork came from. And it was at that moment that I developed a bit of an aversion to it. Soon, the subject turned to other matters and memories. But the next time my mom served pork chops for dinner, I couldn't bear it to think of Thelma, and all the other Thelma's out there. It's different when hogs are raised as food, but when you're standing at the meat counter, how do you know that at some point a family pet didn't just got too darn big?

Never say never, but I kind of shied away from pork.

Pork chops??? "Ewwwww...."

Roast pork? "Nuh-uh..."

Italian sausage? "Waaaaah!" (Double whammy - not only is it pork, I was eating it the moment I was told of Thelma being lured up that ramp into the waiting trailer with a loaf of Wonderbread)

Bacon? "Oh gross! Wait a minute....that smells goooooood."

Yeah, I did not suffer from a TOTAL aversion to pork....just a lot of heavy guilt, I suppose, to the point that sometimes it just wasn't worth it.

Flash forward several years...my sister was a new mom, married into a wonderful Italian family, and we were invited over for dinner. On the menu was this thing called....porketta.

I could tell I would be eating a lot of vegetables that day. "Porketta" sounded like some sort of cutesy nickname one would perhaps give to their pet pig. But when I arrived at Sue's house, this amazing aroma of roasted meat and garlic and some new spice greeted me in the kitchen. Soon a platter of sliced meat, roasted potatoes and carrots was placed upon the table and I was too tempted to resist. And that first taste was divine! Moist, succulent pork with a crisp, spicy, savory crust. I had never even heard of "fennel seed" before, but recognized the whole seeds as what I had seen before in Italian sausage.

These days our Christmas dinner tradition is not turkey or ham or roast beef. It's porketta. And I may go a whole year without eating a pork chop, roast pork or slice of ham, but when December rolls around I start imaging the scent of toasting fennel seed and garlic wafting through the air, and the yummy caramelized goodness of oven roasted vegetables. Sue usually orders her's prepared from a small family-owned Italian shop, but I always wanted to try to make my own.

And finally, I did....

First, you'll need to make the seasoning rub - grab some fennel seed, along with some onion powder, garlic powder, black pepper, Italian seasoning, crushed red pepper flakes, and dried rosemary. You might as well wrestle up some fresh garlic and rosemary, too!

Then, dust of that cool looking thing you bought for five bucks, hoping for the opportunity to some day say "Poppies....poppies will put them to sleeeeeep!"

They tell me it's called a mortar and pestle.

Or if you have better restraint than I do and don't own one, you can grind the rub ingredients in a coffee grinder or just stick 'em in a heavy duty plastic bag and smash them with a meat mallet.

But I got no movie quotes to go with that, so I dusted off the mortar and pestle.

There are no real measurements. I was making this for my parents, so I actually went a little light. If you like a little more heat and spice, doubling everything would work well, and would probably be a better representation of the porketta we enjoy every Christmas...it's pretty spicy around the edges!

So, start out with a heaping tablespoon of fennel seeds.

Add to that, 1 tsp. onion powder, 1 tsp. garlic powder, 2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper, 1 tsp. Italian seasoning (or mix of oregano, basil, thyme & marjoram), a couple shakes of crushed red pepper flakes, 1/2 tsp dried rosemary, 1 tsp. kosher salt and about 4 or 5 cloves of garlic, peeled and sliced.

The moisture from the garlic and the texture of the salt crystals will help blend everything together into a somewhat dry paste as you mash and grind everything together (and cackle about poppies).

Set that aside and prepare your meat. You'll want a 3 1/2 to 4 lb. boneless pork butt...

heheheh...you said butt!

Yeah, well, it's actually part of the shoulder, dude. You might find it labeled "Boston butt" or something. If you can't find it, a pork loin roast will do nicely.

This is my butt...oh shut up!

You can trim some of the fat away, or not. I chose not.

Then make an incision along the side of the roast so you can kind of open it up like a book.

Drizzle on a good tablespoon or so of oil, and rub that all over the meat. You might notice below that I made a few small cuts into the meat and inserted whole cloves of garlic. I highly recommend it!

Then take about a third or so of the mashed up rub blend and spread it evenly on the two open "pages" of your pork book.

Close the flaps and repeat with another tablespoon of oil and the remaining rub on the outside. If you want, you can use some kitchen twine to tie up the roast, but it's really not necessary.

Plop that hunk of meat into a nice big roasting pan, one that leaves enough room for these...

...and these....

Scrub the potatoes and cut them into big chunks - not too little or else they'll cook to death before the porketta is even done. These were kind of large, so I cut most of them into eighth's, the smallish ones into quarters.

Drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and pepper and toss into the roasting pan.

Peel and slice up those carrots, again into kind of thick slices. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper and add them to the pan.

If you think you haven't seasoned enough, or heaven forbid haven't used ENOUGH OLIVE OIL, feel free to add a little more. I chose to just sprinkle a little dried thyme over the whole shebang.

I also added in a couple sprigs of fresh rosemary.

Roast in a preheated oven at 325 degrees F for about 1 1/2 to 2 hours or until a meat thermometer inserted into a thick area of pork reads 160 to 165 degrees. You'll want to stir around those veggies a few times so they brown evenly and don't burn.

And here it is.....

Let the meat sit for 10 or 15 minutes before slicing and serving. I give you permission to pick on a few of those yummy vegetables while you wait!

Oh my...and it's not even Christmas!

I do think of Thelma when I dig into this meal. I imagine she's 37 years old, weighs 3,000 pounds and is lounging in the sun on that farm she went to live on all those years ago.

*************************************

Italian Porketta Roast

The Meat:

1 boneless 3 1/2 to 4 lb pork butt roast (or loin)

The Rub:

1 1/2 Tbsp. fennel seeds

1 tsp onion powder

1 tsp. garlic powder

2 tsp. black pepper

1 tsp. Italian seasoning

1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes

1/2 tsp. dried rosemary

1 tsp kosher salt

4 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced

The Rest:

4 or 6 additional cloves of garlic, peeled

About 3 tbsp olive oil

3 lbs. potatoes

5 or 6 big carrots

Salt & Pepper

1 tsp dried thyme

2 sprigs fresh rosemary.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Mash together rub ingredients until paste-like.

Cut slit in meat so you can open it up like a book. Make a few incisions in the meat and insert whole cloves of garlic. Drizzle with about 1 Tbsp. olive oil and rub into meat. Slather with about 1/3 of the rub mixture. Close flap, and if desired, tie roast with kitchen twine. Drizzle another tbsp. of oil on the outside of the roast and rub in; coat the outside with the remaining rub mixture and place in a large roasting pan.

Scrub and cut potatoes into large chunks. Peel and cut carrots into thick sticks. Drizzle with olive oil and season to taste with salt and pepper. Place around the roast in the pan. Adjust seasonings if desired, and sprinkle with 1 tsp, dried thyme. Add a couple sprigs of fresh rosemary.

Bake, stirring vegetables occasionally, for 1 1/2 to 2 hours or until meat thermometer reads 160 to 165 degrees F. Let sit for 10 to 15 minutes before slicing and serving.

Anticipation...

2010-02-20T08:19:00.027-05:00

Late January and early February tend to be pretty dreary in these parts.

The sparkle and excitement from the holidays is gone, and the days are cold and bleak. We've been lucky so far this year - just a few smatterings of snow, really, but by day two the pure white wonder of new fallen snow has turned a dingy, dirty gray, thanks to the sand and salt used to treat the roads.

I was leaving work one night recently, my usual time (5:01 P.M.) and I noticed something different....the sky was still light on the horizon, all purpley and orangey. Funny how it hits you all of a sudden: The days are getting LONGER! And suddenly you realize that there IS a light at the end of the tunnel. Spring is slowly but surely sneaking up on us.

It was dark by the time I got home - I have a half hour commute, so I watched as the sky slowly darkened as I made my way home. But even though there was blackness above me as I pulled into the driveway, I still felt light and happy, giddy with anticipation of spring's arrival.

And it was for good reason...when I walked into the house, I found I had gotten mail. Just like that fateful day when Ralphie finally gets is Little Orphan Annie Secret Society Decoder Pin, the package I had been yearning for (um, for like, 4 whole days....) had arrived...

"My Baker Creek Seeds have arrived! Come to me, my precious....."

Yes, I had ordered a few packets of seeds from them last year, and lo and behold a couple weeks earlier a beautiful catalog arrived in my mailbox. And I was totally seduced by the glossy photographs, the cheerful descriptions of each item that screamed to me subliminally, "You know you want me...No one else on this street has some Jaune d'Or Ovale radishes." Not to mention, the thought of "heirloom" seeds, nothing genetically modified, no "frankenfoods".

OK, I don't even LIKE radishes, yet I found myself trudging towards the computer, glossy-eyed, arms out-stretched in front of me...."Yes, Master...."

I mean, just look at these!

And don't get me started on the tomatoes...

Virtually every color of the rainbow...red, pink, purple, yellow, green, orange.

Striped, spotted, plaid...

Just kidding... they're still working on plaid.

Oh, and blue. No blue, yet! But I did order those Striped Romas in the lower right corner of the page.

Melon, anyone? Look at these....

And squash...

I am MOST excited about a few bush varieties of squash they offer...bush buttercup, bush zucchini. My puny little garden can be so overrun with those greedy vining plants that both my squash and my other veggies usually suffer.

Wait, instead of showing you the whole catalog here, I'll just post a link at the end of this entry so you can come over to the dark side with me and start your own wish list! Come on! We can all dream about growing fields of Amaranth, eating the leaves and grinding up the seeds into amaranth flour! I was going to use my coffee grinder, but wouldn't it be cool to build a mill, with a water wheel and redirect a river through your yard and mill your own flour?!?

Then I realized I have just under a quarter-acre of land...including where my house and driveway sit. And half of what's remaining is the front yard, my husband's domain, where he crawls on hands and knees with tweezers and scissors, tending to his grass. My back yard garden is currently....6' by 10'? Amaranth will have to stay on my wish list for now...

ANYWAY! As a little public service announcement, I thought I would share with you the dangers of browsing fabulous heirloom seed websites in February.

This is what was in my package...

Wait, let me organize them for you.

I can barely fit them all on the table, yet somehow I want to cram all these plants into a 8' x 12' plot of land?

Better get the pick axe, honey! We need to expand!

Did I mention my husband's idea of a vegetable is a potato? He's going to hate me....

Nine...yes, NINE...kinds of tomatoes!

Four kinds of peppers...soon to be six, when I add jalapenos and bell peppers.

Pak choy and spinach and fennel and purple cauliflower...these are a few of my favorite things!

Oh, did I mention rutabaga and dragon tongue beans? Seduced by the beautiful artwork on the packages....

And despite the fact that I have very rocky soil and no luck with root crops, I couldn't resist golden beets or little carrots.

And I like lima beans...LOVE fava beans.

And herbs, glorious herbs!

Including, four types of basil...two Thai varieties, lime basil and normal basil. I also scored some slo-bolt (yeah, we'll see about that!) cilantro, dill, parsley, oregano and another one I am somewhat excited about, summer savory. Luckily, most of these herbs will be residing someplace other than the aforementioned 10' x 16' plot of earth, like in pots on my deck or an empty patch of dirt above a retaining wall.

(Wait a minute...is it my imagination, or is my garden ... growing?)

Anyway! I refuse to admit I overdid it. Instead, I can't wait to get those seeds started and stick my hands in the earth. More importantly, I can't wait to taste that lime basil, slice up those striped romas and pluck buttercup squashes from a bush.

And if you'd like to join me in my madness, go visit the wonderful folks at Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds.

If you dare.... :)

Healthy Choices - Revamped Egg Salad and More

2010-02-06T19:26:00.018-05:00

One of the cards that has always been stacked against me in my quest for a slimmer waistline has been the fact that in general, I just don't like fat-free foods...things like dressings, cheeses, mayonnaise. Things like that. I've always said they seem to try to overcompensate for the lack of fat by adding too much sweetness - in the form of either sugar or artificial sweeteners. I don't know if it's the non-fat part I hate, or the sickeningly sweet part!

On sandwiches, I am usually perfectly happy with mustard, but then comes that craving for one of those mayo-based sandwich fillings - tuna salad, chicken salad, egg salad.... and as much as I've tried to like the low fat or fat free versions of those, I just don't, and I walk away from my plate feeling let down, somehow, and looking for something else to appease me.

Usually something chocolate.

When my daughter asked for hard-boiled eggs the other day - she LOVES them, but will only eat the whites! - my mind immediately thought "When was the last time you had egg salad?" I'm not a huge egg salad fan, but when the craving hits I really, really, REALLY want it! As the eggs were cooking on the stove, I browsed through the refrigerator, reading labels, calculating "points" (I'm doing the Weight Watchers thing again, and kind of in the WW Zone, so to speak!) I tried looking at alternatives for the big gob of mayonnaise that would have historically found its way into my egg salad. I know people use yogurt as a mayo substitute, but the thought of yogurty egg salad didn't appeal to me. What did I have on hand that could maybe cover up that yogurt flavor? Whatever it was, it would have to be good, because I was already hell-bent on making a healthy egg salad using one whole egg and a couple whites only. Not only would it have to cover up yogurt, it would have to cover up the fact that a couple rich, creamy yolks were missing, having been sacrificed to the dogs. (Insert dog burp and happy tail-wagging here)

This came to my rescue.

A nice spicy dijon mustard which would add flavor as well as a hint of yellow, tricking the eyes into thinking there were more egg yolks in the egg salad.

Dijon had an accomplice, too!

One of the most under-utilized items in my cupboard. I've never actually been sure if I liked them or not, but I always seem to have capers on hand.

I went on, measuring out some non-fat yogurt, a spoonful of mustard, and I did add a spoonful of mayonnaise for a little bit of luxury, then capers, scallion and salt and pepper. Stirred in my one chopped whole hard-boiled egg, and two hard boiled egg whites, pulled out a nice low-carb, multi-grain wrap and some fresh veggies, and this was my lunch:

And it worked! I really didn't feel like I was being cheated, and there was very little of that "diet" taste.

Here's my new egg salad recipe - even if you want to use whole eggs, this ended up being a great way to cut back on the mayo:

Lighter Egg Salad Wraps (2 servings)

Ingredients

1 whole hard boiled egg

2 additional hard boiled eggs, yolks removed (if doing the lighter version)

1/4 cup plain nonfat yogurt

1 tsp dijon mustard ( a nice spicy one)

1 1/2 tsp capers, drained and chopped

1 scallion, chopped

1 Tbsp. mayonnaise ( I use a canola-based mayo)

Salt & pepper to taste

2 8" multi-grain low carb tortillas (or other bread item)

Lettuce

Cucumber Slices

Chopped fresh dill or paprika (optional)

Directions

Chop eggs.

Mix together yogurt, mustard, capers, scallion, mayonnaise, salt and pepper. Stir in eggs.

Arrange sliced cucumber and lettuce on each tortilla and top with half the egg salad. Sprinkle with dill or paprika, if desired, roll up and serve.

But wait! There's more!

Yes, the whole inspiration for this egg salad actually came from something I had made the weekend before to use up some leftover salmon. Here's my Salmon Salad recipe (the dressing part actually makes a nice tartar sauce, too!)

Dijon Salmon Salad With Lemon and Capers

Ingredients

4 or 5 oz. cooked salmon (about 1 1/2 cups, flaked), chilled

1 1/2 tsp. capers, drained and chopped

1 1/2 tsp. fresh dill, chopped

1 scallion, chopped

1/4 cup non-fat yogurt

1 tbsp. mayonnaise

1 tsp. dijon mustard

1 tsp. fresh squeezed lemon juice

Salt & Pepper to taste

Directions

In a small bowl, whisk together yogurt, mayonnaise, dijon mustard and lemon juice.

Stir in capers, dill and scallion.

Season to taste with salt and pepper.

(This can also be used as a nice tartar sauce)

Fold in flaked salmon.

Serve on top of salad greens, in a sandwich, on a toasted English muffin, as a spread for cracker, etc....

Blogging Therapy and A Revelation

2010-01-28T15:05:00.025-05:00

I'm not sure exactly what my intention was when I started blogging... I think I just wanted to be a part of it, as at the time several of my Allrecipes buddies either had blogs or were delving into this unchartered territory along with me when I first took my plunge. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had visions of being the next Pioneer Woman, as if somehow writing about my day-to-day existence and sharing a few recipes would catapult me to international stardom. But in real life, I just wanted to write about random thoughts and experiences, just to get it out. I've always found writing to be very therapeutic for me, regardless of who may or may not read it. Once in a while you write something and it teaches you something about yourself that really changes some aspect of your life.

And that is what happened to me a couple posts ago.

After months of warily eyeing the intimidating machine on my desk called "the scanner", I finally decided to put it to use. And much like I do in my cooking, I winged it, because I was too impatient to wait for my husband to get home and explain the goings on and I hate reading manuals. And like many other things, the scanner turned out to be a all bark, no bite and a surprisingly user-friendly piece of equipment. It is my new best friend!

So, if you look back at recent posts you'll see a bit of my family history. Posting those photos of my Dad's family has inspired me to delve back into genealogy, a hobby I've really only tinkered with until now. I know that one of my ancestors, Samuel Woods, came to Massachusetts in 1620. That's the year the Mayflower landed at Plymouth Rock! Of course, you know me, day late and a dollar short....I am as much a Mayflower descendent as I am an extra in Motley Crue's "Kick Start My Heart" video. Samuel must have missed the first boat and showed up on the next one, and centuries later, I stood on my hotel balcony wondering what all those floodlights swirling around from the vicinity of the Whiskey-A-Go-Go were all about, opting to order a big platter of nachos and watch "The Bear" on HBO instead of mosying down the strip into MTV stardom.

But I'm not bitter. Samuel actually did some pretty cool stuff himself, and his grandson was a Revolutionary War hero. Hey, we are who we are.

Then came Mom's family, and the sad story of her childhood, how the kids were split up and how they reunited. All that stuff I knew about before I told you about Ma & Pa, aka Zelica and Arthur, my grandparents on my mother's side. But now I wanted to share with you something I did not know until I finished writing that post.

You see, Pa was the only grandparent I ever met, but he was not the kind of grandfather you went to visit often, or who showered you with gifts and attention. By the time I came around, Pa had a tough time keeping his own ten kids straight, never mind his many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I have memories of him, memories I am proud of, because I would tell my friends at school on Monday that I had attended my grandfather's 80th birthday party the day before...just so I could brag about having a grandfather. But I never really knew him. Over the years, we sort of interpreted Pa based upon the stories our parents told about him, and my only personal impression of him was of the old man, sitting in the corner smiling, and occasionally mumbling something in French to one of the few people who understood the language. I can't say I knew him well, if I knew him at all.

When my grandmother, Zelica, died, leaving behind Pa and ten children, mom and my aunts always said "Pa couldn't take care of ten kids. He was an alcoholic, he was poor and they took us all away from him. He was not fit to raise us." One Christmas, my Aunt Loretta, who lived near Pa and his second wife, was all up in arms because Pa had knocked on her door and run away after leaving a Christmas gift on her doorstep - a carton of cigarettes and a bottle of Scotch. I remember her ranting, "What kind of father does that? And he signed the card 'Love, Arthur!'???"

His alcoholism was never a secret. In his retirement he would walk a mile or so through his neighborhood to the local bar, have a few drinks, and pick up a loaf of bread on the way home so he could feed the pigeons that congregated in his back yard. I would see him as we drove to my aunt's house, either walking along the road or feeding the pigeons in his yard. After his death, I discovered that after Ma died, Pa was actually committed to an asylum, because that's how they "treated" alcoholism in those days. My mother, aunts and uncles never spoke ill of him - they maintained a certain amount of familial respect towards him, but I always got the feeling that a part of them blamed him for the loss of their mother, and subsequently the childhoods they found themselves trying to forget.

I never harbored any animosity towards my grandfather for who he was. I was just happy I actually had a living, breathing grandparent. My mother had such a horrible upbringing in her foster home that I do believe part of her blamed him for the course her life took. Again, "He was an alcoholic, so of course the state wouldn't let him keep us". When he entered the nursing home at the age of 86, she rarely visited. When his second wife passed away eight years later, we attended her funeral - by all accounts she was a lovely, wonderful lady - then tagged along to visit him. At that point he was semi-catatonic. He was blind, deaf, and did not speak. They recommended you call before you visited, so they could dress him and prop him up in a chair for you. That's how he was on that day, and it saddened me to think his life had come to this. A tall, thin, frail old man, sitting in a chair, grasping the attached tray for dear life so hard that his arms trembled. You knew he felt as if he was going to fall, even though he did not communicate in any way, shape or form. The nurse told us he could not hear any more, but you could touch his hand and he may or may not realize you were there - she wasn't really sure.

Pa shared his room with a young man who was dying of brain cancer. He was about 40 years old, but had a stack of coloring books and 1st grade level story books that he gazed at in awe. He was very friendly, and seemed to enjoy the company although his speech slurred occasionally, and after the nurse exited, he excitedly told us that yes, Arthur does speak! But only when he's sleeping, and he only speaks French. He said "I think he can hear you, but you need to yell into his left ear as that one seems better."

My Uncle Paul and Aunt Rose visited him faithfully every single week. That day, Paul leaned over and said "Hi Daddy!" and received his usual no response. Aunt Rose spoke to him, too. She said, "Pa! Someone else is here to visit...it's Blanche and her daughter, Christine!" Of course Pa did not respond. He couldn't see, hear or speak. And at this point, no one was sure that he would be able to comprehend anything anyway.

My mother approached, and leaning over toward his left ear, said loudly, "Hi Pa! Its me, Blanche! Your daughter...BLANCHE!"

And the strangest thing happened. Pa took a deep breath. His arms and legs shook, as if he felt like he was going to fall. He clenched the edge of the tray for dear life. And he smiled.

Of the few memories I personally have of my grandfather, that is my favorite. Somewhere inside, my grandfather was still there, and at that precise moment a weight was lifted off my mother's shoulders when she realized she had a father, and the sound of her voice made him happy. It is because of that moment that I let go of any disappointment I might have felt towards my grandfather for not being there for his kids, for not fighting to keep them. Whatever decisions he had made in 1935, he had paid for his entire life. And now, here he was, three months away from taking his final breath, and there was simply no reason to hold any kind of grudge. I had a grandfather whose children were taken away from him because he was an alcoholic. I accept that. That's just how it was, and there's nothing to forgive.

Only now, after reading through my aunt's scrapbook, scanning in some photos and putting my thoughts into words, I've changed my mind. I realize I was wrong - we ALL were wrong - in our assessment of Pa. He did not lose his children because he was an alcoholic. He was an alcoholic because he had lost his children. He failed them. He let them go, releasing his paternal rights in the hopes they would all be adopted into better homes, and he regretted it the rest of his life. He drank to forget, he remarried to have someone to talk to because he was afraid of his children rejecting him. He did not pretend to be a father, because he felt he had been an unworthy one. That is why he kept his distance. That is why he chose to speak in French, even though he knew English. That is why he signed his Christmas cards "Love, Arthur".

And so, Pa, Grandpa, Arthur....I do not forgive you because there is nothing to forgive. But I hope you can forgive us for the way we thought of you all those years. Some of your children are with you now, probably laughing with you over the big misunderstanding that life can sometimes be, and I just wanted to let you know that I can laugh with you now, too. I am sorry none of us had the insight to realize the loss, the humiliation and the pain you endured over the years, and that our perception of you was clouded by our own insecurities. But this crazy world of blogging, which you know absolutely nothing about, has shown its worth to me by letting me learn to know who you were and who you are.

Our Life In Pets - Sabrina & Seiko

2010-01-23T08:26:00.029-05:00

My husband, Steve, and I have always loved animals.

When we met, he had a dog, Seiko

and I had a cat, Sabrina.

For our second date, Steve took me home to meet his dog. Upon receiving Seiko's approval, we then took a ride over to Steve's parents' house a few miles up the road where I met my future in-laws. Yes, after I met the dog! A year later, Seiko was just as much my dog as he was Steve's (don't tell Steve that!) and as we were about to merge our households together by introducing Sabrina to Seiko, Steve seemed a little apprehensive.

"I just don't see what people see in cats," he would say. He didn't hate them, but just didn't see the attraction.

"I'm just afraid I'm not going to like ....what's her name? Oh yeah, Sabrina. I mean, what do cats DO?"

I, on the other hand, was more nervous about Seiko's reaction. On walks, he would try to charge after anything "cat-sized" that would scamper away - squirrels, rabbits, and actual cats. Weighing in at 160 pounds, with a thick fur coat that visually added another 30 pounds to his appearance, Seiko looked like anything but the gentle giant he was...at least when he saw a squirrel. Or a cat. I was even beginning to wonder if Sabrina should stay at my parents' house. After all, she had never even seen an actual dog before, never mind a 160-pound one that was sure to chase her.

Sabrina's story was kind of interesting. This is how she came to be mine:

We had has a white cat living on our porch for several years. She had been a stray, and we soon found out she was deaf. We tried bringing her in the house, particularly during cold weather, but she didn't like it. I think her deafness made her other senses hyperactive, and she would constantly flinch or skulk away if she felt the vibration of someone walking around on the other side of the house. So, since she seemed to prefer the porch, and to make it more comfortable for her, my Dad built her a little house, insulated, and we bought her a cozy, fleece bed to put in it. She lived there for about six years.

One day she disappeared. She had been looking pretty old, so I kind of figured she had wandered off to die. But just to be sure, I placed an ad in the local paper for a missing cat, pure white with a purple flea collar. Old and deaf. Surprisingly, I got a call.

"I think I have your cat!"

I was kind of excited, to be honest, even though part of of me had already accepted that she was gone.

"She's all white, has a purple color and a little gray spot on her head. She's a very playful kitten"

I thanked the girl on the other end of the phone, but assured her that could not be my cat. Whitey was all white, old, and not in the least bit playful.

The next day, I received a second call.

"Have you found your cat yet?"

I had not.

"Well, I'm at the XtraMart (gas station next town over from where I lived) and we just found a white cat. Kind of old. With, um, looks like some dirt on her head or something. She's very hungry."

The thought of a stray cat tugged at my heartstrings, but at this point in my life I was actually seriously considering a move to New York City. I did not know if a pet would be part of that scenario. The ad in the newspaper was done more to honor Whitey. She had been a faithful friend, waiting up for me whenever I went out, accompanying my Dad on his daily walks around the "estate", inspecting the various flowerbeds we had planted.

"Thank you," I responded, "But I'm pretty sure my cat is gone." No way could she have made the 4-plus mile journey on her own. Too many cars, coyotes and Lord knows what else between here and there.

After I hung up, something nagged at me. I couldn't quite put my finger on it until the next night when the phone rang.

"I'm really sorry!" she said. "But...well...I know this is not your cat, and I don't expect you to be able to replace your missing cat but...."

It was the same girl that had called the day before...and the day before that.

She was moving, and could not bring their new kitten with them. At first the new landlord and mentioned that a cat would be ok, but he later changed his mind. Their three year-old daughter was devastated. To make matters worse, the kitten had a cold or something, and if she brought it back to the shelter it would surely be put to sleep. That's why she had been desperate enough to lie to me, hoping that if I laid eyes on this kitten I would not be able to turn her away.

Funny how when you think your life is going to head in a certain direction, something as simple as a sick kitten in need of a home can cause it to change course. As I said, I was about a week away from making a serious decision that would have changed my life...had I ever actually made that decision. I had a place to stay on Staten Island until I could find my own place, I had a love interest, although not serious - just in the flirtation phase, and I even had two people that swore they could get me a job. I told her I would think about it and call her back, and asked when was she moving.

"Tomorrow." she replied.

Well, okay then.

I never got to meet Sue. The following day was spent moving and by that evening she had to get their three year-old daughter settled in their new apartment, so her husband picked up the last thing at the old place, a kitten named Sabrina, and drove her to my house.

It's been years since that night, but I think of this family fondly very often. You just know when you cross paths with "good people". The car lumbered up my winding street, leaking transmission fluid and sputtering to a stop. It looked as though bubblegum and duct tape was holding it together. A very young man, no more than 22, knocked on the door. Before he brought the kitten to my house, he said his wife was so grateful I decided to take Sabrina that she wanted me to have these things - a brand new litter box, bag of kitty litter, dishes, box of kitten chow, toys, and last but not least, $20. The thought never crossed my mind to take the money, but he held his hands up, refusing to take it back, even though I knew they needed it.

And then came Sabrina. Actually, I went to get her. She refused to come out from underneath the front seat of the car, but I finally pried her loose, trembling and mewing away. In the light of my kitchen, I noticed her eyes were goopy and runny, and I could hear a slight wheezing as she breathed. What was even more painful was the uncomfortable guilt I felt radiating from this young man, trying to do the right thing. In one of my proudest moments, I tried to insist he take the $20 back. I even lied, saying I had a credit balance at the animal hospital (What? You should have just said your uncle was a vet or something...) But no, he was under strict orders. He said, sheepishly, "We know you're probably going to have a higher vet bill than you were expecting".

And so it came to be that I owned a cat named Sabrina. We got her respiratory infection cleared up in a jiffy, but for the majority of her thirteen years she had a chronic runny-eye problem. The consensus was, after trying ointments and antibiotics and examining her eyes for injury, that, well, she was a white cat. All cats' tears are brownish-tinged anyway, so they just show up better on white cats. Plus, she had no pigment in her skin (the rims of her eyes were pink, not black or brown) so she would be more sensitive to dust and things. Whatever it was, it didn't hold her back. She was playful and cuddly, around me, although terrified whenever anyone came over.

Which is why I was nervous about her introduction to Seiko, but we figured it was inevitable. I felt really bad at first, because she was TERRIFIED of him. She literally hid underneath a nightstand for two days, creeping out only when Seiko was outside, dashing back undercover if she so much as heard him bark.

Seiko, on the other hand, was curious. Thankfully he showed no aggression towards her, but to Sabrina his relentless curiousity was the same as if he was chasing her. Finally, one night I decided it was time to intervene. I grabbed Sabrina and brought her into the living room, holding her protectively yet firmly while Seiko approached. The massive dog poked and jabbed at her with his muzzle, tail wagging, ears perked up. Sabrina just shrunk away.

"Oh, Sabrina! Come on! Stand up to him!" I said, and I grabbed her paw and tapped Seiko's nose with it. Amazingly, she got the hint! And repeated the motion. Of course it did not hurt Seiko at all, but he backed off with the poking and prodding. And little by little, Sabrina came out of her shell.

She never ran from Seiko again, and in fact would commandeer his water dish when she was thirsty. He would step back and wait his turn.

She eventually lost her fear of people, too. We found that out one day when a contractor was in our kitchen, writing up a proposal for us. As he leaned over the kitchen counter, filling out his form, Sabrina hopped up, strolled across the counter onto his pad of paper, and head-butted him. I never saw fear in her again.

Guess she figured since she had defeated a giant drooling colossus of a dog, she must be invincible.

Old Family Photographs - Mom's Family

2010-01-19T07:00:00.002-05:00

One of my pie-in-the-sky dreams is to write a book, preferably some sort of historical fiction type of work.

That fantasy usually seems so out of reach for me - what would I write about? What would I say? How do I get it to be interesting, without stealing some other author's ideas? And the big one...when would I have the time to do this, to research it properly? Well, I know in my heart of hearts, there is always time to do something you want to do. Frankly, if I had started this book twenty odd years ago when the idea first struck, I probably would have it done by now. And the idea came in a Creative Writing class I was taking, when my instructor, Bill Meeks, said this: "Write about what you know."

And the most interesting thing I know about is definitely my mom's family.

Unlike my father's side, which was always a little bit of an enigma to me since I had never met my grandparents and didn't really know my aunts, uncles and cousins too well, I virtually grew up surrounded by my mother's family - her nine siblings, in-laws and their children. Even as some of them moved away, or in some cases moved frequently, letters and phone calls always kept the family posted on the goings on in places like Florida, Maryland, Ohio, Washington and even Australia. Nearly every Sunday we gathered at Uncle Paul's house, where seven of my cousins (six boys and one girl) lived, and my second home was at Aunt Rose and Uncle Jim's house where my cousin Maureen and I grew up more like sisters than cousins.

(Note: My second idea for a novel is one tentatively titled "Between Sisters and Cousins", by the way...)

Anyway! The point is, on my mother's side of the family, I knew who I was and where we came from, long before I knew anything about my Dad's ancestry. I didn't even know what ethnic background I was, paternally, but I knew my mother was 100% French-Canadian, and that my grandfather's family had immigrated to Canada from France through Louisborg in New Brunswick. We even visited Fort Louisborg once on a family vacation. At one point, my Aunt Peg (not her real name, although we all call her that...there's a lot of that in my family! Read my comment on Tattoo's and Teething Rings post about names!) really researched the family tree and I was hooked on genealogy. Not only did I have those facts, but I had interaction regularly with people who knew my grandparents, and I even met my maternal grandfather on several occasions. We had a handful of pictures, and lots of first and second-hand memories from the ten children born to my grandparents, Arthur and Zelica.

Oh, and I had a grandmother with a very unique, exotic name, too!

Like many French-Canadian families, everyone refers to my grandparents as "Ma and Pa". This is Ma and Pa's wedding photo, which was one of the few photos we had of them.

They were married on October 30, 1922. This photo always fascinated me because it was one of maybe four photos I had of my grandmother, Zelica. Later, when Aunt Peg put together her scrapbooks for us, she was able to locate more photos of our relatives, including some from their wedding day...

From Left to right, Ma's sister, Mary; Pa's brother, Fleuriand; Pa and Ma, Ma's father, Patrique, and Ma's sister, Exilda. (Again with the names!)

Here's one of the boys...the third from the left, top row is my great-great-great grandfather.

Pretty cool to have a photo of your great-great-great grandfather, even if you don't know his name. I do know, from Aunt Peg's notes, that it is either Fabien or Dominic.

Here's the whole extended family.

It looked like such a happy day, and there definitely were happy times ahead. But it would be relatively short-lived.

Married in 1922, her first child was born in February of 1924, her tenth in February 1934. Then, early one morning, around 2:00 AM on November 26, 1935, my grandmother Zelica woke up, got out of bed, not feeling well (she had pneumonia at the time) and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water. My grandfather heard a crash and rushed in to see what had happened, and found his wife dead on the floor. I've heard it said that she was six months pregnant with her eleventh child. Even though only twelve years had passed, if you put her wedding photo next to the other one we had with her shortly before her death, you wouldn't have thought they were the same person. The resemblance was certainly there, but you'd think it was a woman and her grandmother.

My grandfather could not physically, mentally or financially care for the ten children, so they became wards of the state and while some went to live with relatives, others went into the foster care system.

My Aunt Peg wrote the following in the scrapbook she put together for each of her brothers and sisters:

"With the depression things were very hard and Pa just couldn't cope with both it and raising a family. All of us became wards of the state of Massachusetts. We were separated and, some in pairs, some singly, were placed with other families. Each of us has our own memories of these times. Prior to this, a neighbor came and took a family picture.

We all then went our separate ways. In order to give a chance at a good life, Pa authorized us to be adopted but only Loretta was in fact adopted. As time went on, our relatives started to take us out of foster homes.

In 1946 the family was reunited and a second family picture was taken. The order is the same as the earlier one.

From left to right, starting with the top row: Paul, Francis, Rose, Loretta, Cecile, Florence, Germaine, Simone (aka Peg), Blanche (my mom) and Ferdinand.

One of the first things we did when we reassembled was to have a monument made for Ma's grave. It was such a shock to find that she only had a number.

Coming from such a large loving family, it was hard to understand why no one had thought of this before."

I think it was a good idea for her to say "each of us has our own memories of those times" and leave it at that. It's true, those ten children all grew up in very different circumstances. My mother, for instance, was raised by an Irish foster family in Dorchester, a section of Boston that at the time was predominately Irish. Irish and French people didn't get along that well, so basically she was there as a servant and a source of a little extra income from the State. My mother is not one to exaggerate - in fact, she usually downplays events that touch her life - and I remember that she said "the family dog was fed better than I was". If they had pork chops for dinner, the family's biological daughter, Mary, would eat the meat, the give the bone and the gristle to my mother. They gave Mary the cream, and gave the rest to my mother (which years later would make mom laugh, saying "I was getting the healthier milk! Mary got all that fat! I bet she has cholesterol problems!")

But my mother was lucky, for a foster kid growing up during the depression. After the death of her mother, she had very few good memories of her childhood but at least there was no physical abuse. Her foster mother (and her daughter) treated her like the second-class citizen they perceived her to be. But between the near starvation, the long nights sleeping on the cot in the basement next to the furnace (at least it was warm, for when she was about eight years old, it was her job to stoke more coal in the furnace when necessary) and the constant reminder that her ethnic background was anything but desirable, she remembers with fondness the nuns at the hospital she passed on her way home from school - they would be waiting for her as she passed, telling her she was too skinny and giving her some oranges or apples to eat. She remembers the occasional visits with her sister, Germaine, who was with another foster family. And she remembers when, at the age of fifteen, she found she was going to live with her Aunt Rose and be reunited with the rest of her family.

I'm sure they all had similar stories. I've heard bits and pieces, but like Bill Meeks told me, "Write about what you know". So I'll leave it at that.

Perhaps it is because of their history, and because of the tragedy that touched them when they were children, that they grew up into the people they became. I can tell you that on my mother's side I have about 30 cousins, and every single one of them is kind, funny, loving, honest, hard-working, compassionate and in various ways, successful, whether measured by material things or their own wonderful families. The next generation will prove to be even happier, I think, because we all put our families first. I've heard my mother and my Aunt Rose both say "How on earth did we ever learn to be parents?" The younger ones have only scattered memories of their mother, Zelica, and all were raised in less than ideal conditions, to put it mildly. Yet each and every one grew up to be wonderful parents. It's as if someone decided that since they were denied worthy childhoods themselves, that they deserved to be better-than-average parents, knowing their children will never know the sadness that they knew as children.

I think it was in 1989, we had a family reunion. Nine of them came (Freddie was later Photoshopped into the picture!) At one point, I drove a few of them up to the city they were from and saw the house that they had all been born in. They knocked on the door to ask permission to have a photograph taken in front of their old home, and to our surprise and excitement, we were all invited in to take a look around. I remember my mother commenting on the kitchen - with the exception of updated appliances and new linoleum and paint, it looked the same as it did in 1935. That sent chills up my spine, as I looked at the floor wondering where exactly Zelica had fallen. As we walked out, I felt as if some sort of closure had descended on the group. There were no tears, just calm and peace as we left to meet other family members for dinner.

It was a blessing to get them all together, from the somewhat reclusive sibling to the one who had spent the past 25 years in Australia. They talked, they laughed, they sang, and they bragged about their children and grandchildren, many of whom were also in attendance at some point during the multi-week event. I just sat back and soaked it all in, watching my mother in her glory, absorbing stories from all directions and all points of view.

And reminding myself every moment how lucky I am to have been born into such an amazing family. And how much I love them all.

My New Favorite Salad (This Week)

2010-01-18T06:00:00.001-05:00

At some point last weekend I found a moment for myself to sit down and channel surf for a minute. Since I'm trying to maintain a healthy diet I've actually been staying away from FoodNetwork, and to a certain extent, Allrecipes. Much too tempting! But I came upon Martha Stewart, and her guest was actress Ellen Burstyn, and I arrived just in time to hear Ms. Burstyn say she sticks to a raw diet for breakfast and lunch, and then eats cooked food for dinner.

Hmmm. Interesting! I've been curious about raw diets - not that I want to actually change to a completely raw diet, but let's face it. Most of us could use a couple raw "meals" every now and then, and I don't mean sushi. So I watched to see what would happen next and she went on to say she loves salads. What followed was a simple, but interesting salad that I've been thinking about ever since.

Red Cabbage Salad - Click here for the recipe - I did tweak ever so slightly, but there's definitely room for adjustments based on your preferences. And let me tell you, if you're getting tired of lettuce based salads (like I am...did I mention I've lost 4.2 pounds since January 1st? Well, just in case you missed it...)

Mix together the vegetables - for about half a recipe, I used:

1/2 head red cabbage

1 cup English cucumber, diced

1/4 cup chopped red onion

1 large carrot, grated

2 tbsp. raisins

2 tbsp. cilantro

Then, because someone was using the computer, I made the following dressing from memory (I was amazingly accurate!):

Juice of one large lemon

2 tbsp olive oil

2 tsp. garam masala

Salt & pepper to taste

I was really tempted to add some more vinegar, but luckily I did not. The dressing is perfect as is!

Then I remember she put in sunflower seeds...I can't find mine. (I know I have them, though - doesn't that make you crazy when you know you have something but can't find it?!) Anyway, walnuts seemed like a good substitute, and it turned out to be a good choice!

Lemon juice, olive oil and garam masala - an EXCELLENT dressing! And this salad is crisp, colorful and delicious!

And along with Grilled Lemon Chicken from Allrecipes, it's going to be my lunch every day this week!

I'm going to need more cabbage.

***Note: Garam masala is a blend of various spices commonly used in Indian cooking. The best garam masala is made fresh from whole toasted spices ground together, but frankly since I have an overflowing spice cabinet, I use a simple recipe from Allrecipes for Easy Garam Masala. You can also find bottled blends (or packets of the whole spices, ready for grinding) in many supermarkets and ethnic shops.

Sunday Morning Smoothie: Pineapple Berry Blast

2010-01-17T06:00:00.001-05:00

SLUUUUURRRP!

Way back when I started writing this blog, I came up with the idea of doing Sunday Morning Smoothies. I like smoothies for a quick breakfast treat, and by making them at home I can be sure of what goes into them. In addition to costing about $4 or $5 for a medium (and costing you 400 to 1,000 calories a pop), a lot of the coffee shop smoothies contain dyes, artificial flavors and fruit-flavored high fructose corn syrup. If I'm going to drink a 600 calories beverage, it better pack a pretty serious nutritional punch. And they just don't, usually.

These days there are healthier versions of smoothies on the market - Starbucks actually has a couple pretty healthy ones (made without any of the nasties you find at other places) that run less than 300 calories for a 24 ounce drink, and contain around 15 g protein, 6 g fiber and between 1.5 and 4.5g of fat. If you're making this a meal, that's not a bad choice!

But me? I'm cheap. And I like to photograph my food - they look at me weird when I do that at the coffee shop. And I've kind of developed my own little formula for making a smoothie. I always start out with plain yogurt and a half of a frozen banana. Then I add fruit, milk or juice, and if necessary a little sweetener. I also might throw in some ground flax, wheat germ or even some sort of nut butter for a little extra protein. Throw it all into a blender, push the button, pour and enjoy.

I'm going to try to keep up this Sunday Morning Smoothie trend. I kind of stick to the same things for breakfast during the week, so it's nice to treat yourself on the weekends. BUT, I'm not ready to go so far as to bake something or make French toast. I've been tracking like crazy over the past two weeks, getting in a little more exercise and I even joined Weight Watchers on Friday - I'm down 4.2 lbs. since January 1st and got my first reward yesterday when I tried on a pair of jeans I had not been able to fit into for the past five years...and they fit! And fit well, I might add.

Here's this week's Sunday Morning Smoothie - it's about 320 calories, but there's 10g of fiber and about 7g protein. Looking at it as a meal, that's pretty good!

PINEAPPLE BERRY BLAST SMOOTHIE:

1/2 cup nonfat yogurt, plain or vanilla

1/2 medium banana, frozen and sliced

1/2 cup blueberries, fresh or frozen

1/2 cup blackberries, fresh or frozen

1/2 cup pineapple chunks, fresh or canned and drained

3/4 cup skim milk (give or take)

1 tbsp. ground flax

Blend, pour and enjoy!

Then, it's off to do some housework. I have a few extra chores this week because yesterday was arts and crafts day at our house.....

Sorry, Elsa!

Old Family Photographs...Dad's Family

2010-01-15T23:25:00.018-05:00

I have always loved the look of old, black and white photos. They bring to life one's history, one's ancestry, and make you think of days gone by. They make you want to learn more about he people in them.

See this picture?

Well, until several years ago, I never knew it existed, but it is a family portrait of my Dad, his parents and three sisters. It was taken in 1929.

Dad is the little boy in the lower right (I had to say that, because some people mistake this shot of my Aunt Dottie as a little boy! Oddly enough, she was quite a beautiful girl her whole life.) Anyway, the girl in the upper right is my dear Aunt Lorraine. She was well-loved by everyone, including me, and was sort of the family historian, keeping all the old family photos, letters, papers and trinkets safely tucked away.

Sadly, Lorraine was diagnosed with lung cancer in the late 1970's, and passed away in the summer of 1981. I "met" my cousin, Shirley, at her funeral. I'm sure I had met her before, but this was the first time I remember meeting her, and I was quite taken with her. She was very sweet, kind and pretty, and she also provided me with something I had not had before and that was a new perspective into my ancestry. You see, Shirley and I shared the same grandparents, but she had been blessed to have actually known them, while I only had a faded photo or two of my grandfather, George. There were none of my grandmother. I'm sure Lorraine had some, but for some reason, when she was alive, we never sat around and went through those old boxes. I think she was more interested in talking about what we kids were doing now, as opposed to what things were like back in the day.

A year after Lorraine's funeral, we went to a family gathering at another cousin's house. While I very often got to see my mom's side of the family, we only saw Dad's family once in a while because they all lived just a little too far away, and were kind of scattered about. There, by the pool, as everyone told stories and got caught up on the goings on in each other's lives, a bit of family drama erupted. Someone brought up Lorraine's husband's name and Aunt Dottie reacted as if she had been bitten by a snake.

"I hope he rots in hell!!!"

Wow. This shocked me, because Dottie was sweet and fun, "young" for an aunt. I had never heard her speak this way about anyone! But come to find out, the problem was this: After several months, Lorraine's husband met someone. They eventually married, but that was years later. No one really minded about that, for he had been loyal and faithful to Lorraine until the very end, and devastated by her loss. The kicker was, when this new lady came into his life, he decided he no longer wanted the boxes that Lorraine had accumulated over the years, and instead of calling one of her sisters, he simply hauled them to the dump.

"All those photographs, gone!" Dottie cried. "Either burned or rotting in the bottom of the town dump! I'll never see my mother's face again"

With that, I kind of shared her anger towards the uncle I had once loved. I realized that now I would probably never see what my grandmother looked like. Lorraine was the only one who ever thought to collect those old photos.

But thanks to my great aunt Myrtle, I was wrong!

Meet my Grandma, Ruth....

There's not much I know about her personally. Through dabbling in genealogy, I know a lot of names of her relatives and ancestors and where they lived and where they are buried. I know she made hot cross buns at Easter, named my father after her favorite actor (who shared the same name as a brother of hers who died as a child), that she loved to have her family around her, loved to cook (well, duh!) loved baseball and the Red Sox, suffered the loss of one baby, but raised four others, and she collected things. LOTS of thing! When my mother met my father, the family still lived at the old homestead, a giant saltbox on acres of land where they had apple orchards and raised chickens. And every spare inch of shelving and windowsill was adorned with knick knacks.

One day, out of the blue, a letter arrived from my Dad's Aunt Myrtle. Again, I know I have met her, but I really don't remember her. Anyway, she was probably in her late 80's at the time, but spry as a spring chicken nonetheless. The letter had me rolling on the floor - she asked how we were, wondered if we could get together for a visit as she was cooped up and bored, then went on to say "I don't know why people are so afraid of people with AIDS, but if I was still young enough to fool around with strangers, you better believe I'd get myself some condoms!"

Love, Myrtle

I was so disappointed that I could not go (and believe me, I was SOOOOO curious about this out-of-the-blue, eccentric relative!), but my parents surely did pay her a visit. Oh, the stories they told. This woman was QUITE a character!!! But the best part of all was what she sent them home with - a cigar box, filled with old photographs, including the family portrait, the above photo of my grandmother as well as another of Grandmother Ruth...

Best of all, on the back of this photo was, in Myrtle's handwriting, "this is the one I want to have done. You know just the head. It's not very recent but its the best one I can find. She hated to have her picture taken."

Ah! I learned something else about my grandmother! Every little bit is precious.

Here's another portrait done a few years later of the two older girls, Bev and Lorraine...

"To Gram, with Love"

And here's "Gram", my grandfather's mother, Delia on the left...

...my Dad in the middle, and his other grandfather (Ruth's father, Grant) on the right.

This one is Dad and his parents, taken the same day as the one above...

"She was so mad at me for goofing around! She could be so serious."

Grandma Ruth had reason to be somber. These photos were taken, I believe, the day before Dad shipped off to boot camp in 1943. He had enlisted on his 19th birthday and within a couple months would be in North Africa, and later India, China and Burma. I can only imagine what was going through this woman's mind, wondering if this would be the last time she saw her only son alive.

She probably didn't like the fact that my Dad was a born comedian, always smiling, always a twinkle in his eye.

I bet he got in trouble for wearing his hat tilted off to one side like that!

Well, we can't forget Grandpa George! He had also enlisted in the Army years earlier, but never made it out of Fort Devens in Massachusetts - World War I came to an end just as he finished basic training. I know he was proud of his son to choose to serve his country. But from what I hear about my grandfather, he was rough and gruff and prone to curse...a lot. For a while I was kind of glad I didn't get the chance to know him (or his temper), for fear he would *gulp* yell at me.

But then came this photo...

"Shirley and Gramp. Isn't she a darling? She is never much farther away from Grampa when he is home"

Yeah, he seems like a nice enough guy!

I don't know why, but I love this one...Grandfather George standing at the edge of a lake in New Hampshire near the family "camp"...

I always wonder what he was thinking at that moment. Let's read the inscription for some clues, shall we?

So either he was looking for deer and bear tracks, OR he was wondering where the heck Al was with the beer!

Here he is again.

And finally, the kids - Dottie, Dad, Bev and Lorraine, this one from the late 40's.

I love this one, too. They just seem so happy, like they're smiling not because someone is taking a picture, but because they want to smile. It captures the spirit of family, the era of post-war America, when life was getting back to normal and good times were ahead, and the Great Depression was just a shadow of a memory. I'm proud to own this picture and to have known these four people, even if I did miss out on meeting their parents.

And I wonder if my daughter, years down the road, will browse through boxes of photos from my childhood, and be just as proud of her mom as I am of my Dad.

Yeah.....maybe not!