tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-315428202024-03-07T18:28:24.315-05:00Magpie MusingRandom thoughts and bits of ephemera from the woods outside of New York City.Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.comBlogger1874125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-43151092647309160712024-03-02T10:00:00.002-05:002024-03-02T10:00:00.239-05:00In Which We Attempt That Baked Icing<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAlkLLvD1GGQtzIKW6FDBegWH5wWNue740QZ-mboJKK5Q3q7wDeFg7P2Sw6zJC8nVBreDiZ1YljHjsiL6gj2lyKLsruB-mDcAhBLYo9Z6s2tq4VyY3PkqTPpdDrkFJGwD4KPB1LHzl0G_a9LLRm5c04wNuTOCPSX6eWG1433xSk0hnjuYBeoSfA/s3020/spice%20cake.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="2300" data-original-width="3020" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAlkLLvD1GGQtzIKW6FDBegWH5wWNue740QZ-mboJKK5Q3q7wDeFg7P2Sw6zJC8nVBreDiZ1YljHjsiL6gj2lyKLsruB-mDcAhBLYo9Z6s2tq4VyY3PkqTPpdDrkFJGwD4KPB1LHzl0G_a9LLRm5c04wNuTOCPSX6eWG1433xSk0hnjuYBeoSfA/s320/spice%20cake.jpg"/></a></div><P>
I'm not going to lie: the <a href="http://www.magpiemusing.com/2024/02/time-for-dessert-part-3-of-3.html" target="_blank">spice cake with the baked icing</a> intrigued me, because "baked icing". I had never heard of such a thing. But I am a person that owns two copies of The Joy of Cooking, 1953 and 1975, so I pulled them out and sure enough, both editions had a baked icing recipe.<p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwo2vbudn2ITTxFIPlOJ5JXYdXCZoHzE-G01KecSPJaOoZtSM90NX07ePZDk0VVqV_d0blK_4cAXIoNuQ2VAxAPJdaEoLhYPfN7BT5cD874VQaVHgMJTT-zjuBovdkePNNgqRtTQHZYn9YsX2RSpVKcSvQpLiFcLBwEuBP8judc266_rjmdQppsg/s2566/Baked%20Icing%201953.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2566" data-original-width="2292" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwo2vbudn2ITTxFIPlOJ5JXYdXCZoHzE-G01KecSPJaOoZtSM90NX07ePZDk0VVqV_d0blK_4cAXIoNuQ2VAxAPJdaEoLhYPfN7BT5cD874VQaVHgMJTT-zjuBovdkePNNgqRtTQHZYn9YsX2RSpVKcSvQpLiFcLBwEuBP8judc266_rjmdQppsg/s320/Baked%20Icing%201953.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Joy of Cooking, 1953</td></tr></tbody></table><p>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23UypE-dcEtQmRwzWKf7tYGCwyR3ly4pkNsfKqOGczRItpoYnzXhyyI8tW0f7I3zHVZKHk2F1-_ne80A4GOGikKt-tpgbjoJ4enG9e1v3O7thdQPSUCDCYcKE06Ed7t6ho2tHpHi1y0RWkpwP6EAmbEuVo7qcUvwGJXgE-rN1Zvy91YqWxYQm2Q/s2343/baked%20icing%201975.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1801" data-original-width="2343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23UypE-dcEtQmRwzWKf7tYGCwyR3ly4pkNsfKqOGczRItpoYnzXhyyI8tW0f7I3zHVZKHk2F1-_ne80A4GOGikKt-tpgbjoJ4enG9e1v3O7thdQPSUCDCYcKE06Ed7t6ho2tHpHi1y0RWkpwP6EAmbEuVo7qcUvwGJXgE-rN1Zvy91YqWxYQm2Q/s320/baked%20icing%201975.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Joy of Cooking, 1975</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>
How about that language change around the addition of cocoa? In 1953, cocoa varies the flavor, but in 1975 it provides an exciting new taste! </p><p>
I made Mrs. Wright's recipe more or less as written, and while it was okay, I don't think I'll do it again - mostly because it's hella sweet. The icing is interesting though - it's essentially a baked meringue topping, spread thinly and baked long enough that it's brittle. Also - it's fragile and a little tricky to get out of the pan - it would probably be best baked in a loose bottomed pan. </p><p>
If you want to try it, here's a slightly tweaked version of Mrs. Wright's recipe. (I used butter and yogurt in place of shortening and soured milk, added ginger, and left off the nuts.)</p><p>
<u>SPICE CAKE WITH BAKED ICING</u></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>1/2 cup softened butter (1 stick) </li><li>1 cup brown sugar </li><li>1 egg + 1 egg yolk </li><li>1 1/2 cups flour </li><li>1/4 t. salt </li><li>1/2 t. cinnamon </li><li>1/2 t. ground ginger </li><li>1/2 t. ground cloves </li><li>1/2 cup yogurt (not greek)</li></ul><P>
Preheat oven to 350° F. Cream butter and sugar. Add egg and egg yolk; beat well. In a separate bowl, stir together all dry ingredients. Add flour mixture to the butter/sugar/egg, alternately with the yogurt.<p></p><p>
Spread into a greased & floured pan (1 8" square, or two loaf pans). Use a parchment sling, or a loose bottomed pan, if you want to be able to get the cake out of the pan in one piece.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>1 egg white </li><li>pinch of salt </li><li>1/2 cup brown sugar</li></ul><P>
Beat egg white until it forms stiff peaks. Mix in the salt and brown sugar. Gently spread this meringue on top of the batter. Bake 30-35 minutes. Cool on a rack for 10 minutes, and then gently move the cake to a serving plate.<p>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-18953397561907706392024-02-29T18:32:00.001-05:002024-02-29T18:32:00.140-05:00Time For Dessert (part 3 of 3)The last two of Mrs. Wright's recipe cards are for desserts that are a little off the beaten path. When was the last time you had a dessert with concord grades, or a baked icing? Indeed, when have you even heard of a baked icing? <P>
If you've been around my blog for a while, you may remember a concord grape pie courtesy of a different neighbor, <a href="http://www.magpiemusing.com/2008/09/ode-to-ruth.html" target="_blank">Ruth</a>. Marian's Concord Grape Crunch isn't a pie - it's got an crust of oatmeal/butter/sugar pressed into a pan, spread with concord grape "filling", and topped with crumbles of the rest of the oatmeal/butter/sugar mix. Of course, true to form, there is no recipe for the filling - once agin, as in so many of Marian's recipes, one is just expected to know how to make a [fill in the blank]. This card's in someone else's handwriting, but I'm pretty sure it's not the next door neighbor Ruth's hand. <P>
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I confess that the part of this next and last recipe that attracted me was the "baked" icing. Reading the card, it's a pretty basic spice cake, but the last step before it goes in the oven is to make an egg white & brown sugar meringue, and spread that on top of the raw cake batter. I'm a little intrigued. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUvwuUd3v9Bf9XZXKmdnJFP4eTa6w_Mh27saWLQd92q6kfXeMd5zq35g51G343ASz35X5rVN3SujZSDZ4T43pkmrOXeuY85UseJlTRbRxclu2CtaFKvwI5XOutiK20y2yGQrST2lhd9k_9n0A3VxWhOExh-MWsajv8E-UDMkEDAwIOGNcMi4h-g/s1800/Spice%20Cake%20with%20Baked%20Icing.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUvwuUd3v9Bf9XZXKmdnJFP4eTa6w_Mh27saWLQd92q6kfXeMd5zq35g51G343ASz35X5rVN3SujZSDZ4T43pkmrOXeuY85UseJlTRbRxclu2CtaFKvwI5XOutiK20y2yGQrST2lhd9k_9n0A3VxWhOExh-MWsajv8E-UDMkEDAwIOGNcMi4h-g/s320/Spice%20Cake%20with%20Baked%20Icing.jpg"/></a></div><P>
I also love the addendum with the instructions on how to sour milk. <P>
I think March will be "make all the things" month. Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-16398677745978664412024-02-28T18:10:00.002-05:002024-02-29T13:44:58.982-05:00Time For Dessert (part 2 of 3)The next two desserts are both familiar and not particularly exotic: Pecan Tassies and a Lemon Loaf Cake. It is possible that I kept the card for the pecan tassies because of another neighbor who always made them (and who, together with her husband and 215 other people died in the crash of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EgyptAir_Flight_990" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">EgyptAir 990</a>), but I don't know that Marian got this particular recipe from Sharon. Maybe, maybe not. If you've never had pecan tassies, they are a bit like tiny pecan pies, with a hint towards rugelach since they're made with a cream cheese dough. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1nA5i9sEp6Qzi_si1thZeR2FbmafMl5bgD3zoPO4mKXgm2e7LMrF12yUeuoiqZnL_osQVDNfVGiYTYu1Nj2Gds79NJMwhAxtj655COWeGEY57q62vJ6iGaTDs9kOoa7ffWnVTi0Qr37FpoCECg9BpK06tgeDprRh7jJJvBpDdBbI3ai4aLuUu-Q/s1800/Pecan%20Tassies.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1nA5i9sEp6Qzi_si1thZeR2FbmafMl5bgD3zoPO4mKXgm2e7LMrF12yUeuoiqZnL_osQVDNfVGiYTYu1Nj2Gds79NJMwhAxtj655COWeGEY57q62vJ6iGaTDs9kOoa7ffWnVTi0Qr37FpoCECg9BpK06tgeDprRh7jJJvBpDdBbI3ai4aLuUu-Q/s320/Pecan%20Tassies.jpg"/></a></div><P>
There are a million recipes for lemon loaf cakes - and yet, this one spoke to me. Maybe because it's typed? With a pencil direction "For Mrs. Wright"? Maybe because it's got BUTTER (instead of the margarine in other of Marian's recipes - like the pecan tassies)? Maybe because of the precision of the recipe with its admonition to "not beat the eggs". Although, the oven temperature is merely given as "moderate", and when do you add the grated rind of one lemon which "furnishes the flavoring"? I might make this. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheu9GhAqV7KUzPheb9bvw4Di6oqx48QeeWcPGIaA3TjWFt8JLlnfUienTrdcGqhrWV23o0dkBEq-nlQ2CJyh_5cnLfhOfI7OJ_gQed5V6xMAcmwtB2KgdErPElHp48SsZAcFo_Rn8eZuil5wit8BeXGpTnw4f1KbRMpv-wJGovKJJGGeYFt15R9g/s2124/Lemon%20Loaf.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1263" data-original-width="2124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheu9GhAqV7KUzPheb9bvw4Di6oqx48QeeWcPGIaA3TjWFt8JLlnfUienTrdcGqhrWV23o0dkBEq-nlQ2CJyh_5cnLfhOfI7OJ_gQed5V6xMAcmwtB2KgdErPElHp48SsZAcFo_Rn8eZuil5wit8BeXGpTnw4f1KbRMpv-wJGovKJJGGeYFt15R9g/s320/Lemon%20Loaf.jpg"/></a></div>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-64618080531402297762024-02-25T17:45:00.001-05:002024-02-25T17:45:00.125-05:00Time For Dessert (part 1 of 3)In all the time that I knew Mrs. Wright, what I knew her for - kitchen-wise - was dessert. It is, therefore, no surprise to me that I kept six recipes for sweets (seven if you include the "dessert" in the <a href="http://www.magpiemusing.com/2024/02/all-about-jello.html" target="_blank">jello</a> post).<p>
Today's installment of Mrs. Wright's recipes includes two. The first one confuses me, and I kind of want to send it to <a href="https://www.instagram.com/bdylanhollis" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">B. Dylan Hollis</a> for his take. It includes cooked mashed potatoes, and peanut butter, but after you make a dough with the mashed potates, and smear the peanut butter on, and roll it up, what then? Is it done? Does it need further baking, chilling, anything? Peculiar. <p>
Also it's on a larger than usual index card, which had to be folded to fit in the standard 3" x 5" box, and it's in someone else's handwriting. Where did it come from? <P>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6LjU3YL7enbjWZYaMW25EMvu2OK_zB-CBwf0HtqCm9c2aCy3yxDdenYz3QiIsqzqXhai8JOqmBkMCRNPCyTbrS3Iaw5H8w7pHPK6xcw6e1nqEbvGAlce4X5FaeqLStNO25t-SLVKDInZKljyhaeHl8t9DepzdaYik9N28sLNVn9rBlqn0BA__w/s1788/Peanut%20Butter%20Pinwheels.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1191" data-original-width="1788" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6LjU3YL7enbjWZYaMW25EMvu2OK_zB-CBwf0HtqCm9c2aCy3yxDdenYz3QiIsqzqXhai8JOqmBkMCRNPCyTbrS3Iaw5H8w7pHPK6xcw6e1nqEbvGAlce4X5FaeqLStNO25t-SLVKDInZKljyhaeHl8t9DepzdaYik9N28sLNVn9rBlqn0BA__w/s320/Peanut%20Butter%20Pinwheels.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>
Mrs. Wright was terrific at pizzele. She and my mother would compare notes and my mother's were never as good as Marian's. This is another example of a recipe for someone who knows how to cook. No instructions whatsoever - just a list of ingredients. If you want to be picky, there are two verbs: melt and add. But the proof of pizzele is in the baking. (And I wonder what happened to my mother's pizzele iron...and Marian's for that matter.)
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisjdQSuxMNh1PKKvwg5JBig5SEVhLPuqW-Z64UfsOolCnelbLrXY2etbho5YWIOOUtdkzUUoRuz4AQYZ8LSBBaeNqEH9SIif99F0_Go5rvDWUifpeE3Mmc4boFEhh94MlaGBDHw36NYpIjxLp9MIyjTUe2fQAEHuHJj6FdNSc_Xcca0h8cpJiC8w/s1500/Pizzele.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisjdQSuxMNh1PKKvwg5JBig5SEVhLPuqW-Z64UfsOolCnelbLrXY2etbho5YWIOOUtdkzUUoRuz4AQYZ8LSBBaeNqEH9SIif99F0_Go5rvDWUifpeE3Mmc4boFEhh94MlaGBDHw36NYpIjxLp9MIyjTUe2fQAEHuHJj6FdNSc_Xcca0h8cpJiC8w/s320/Pizzele.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p></p>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-11591491802476098022024-02-23T16:35:00.001-05:002024-02-23T16:35:00.130-05:00Never Olive OilNext up in the cavalcade of index cards: Dressings and Condiments. <P>
Mrs. Wright's raw cranberry relish is much like my mother's - that is, raw cranberries and a whole orange, with some sugar - but it has the addition of a ground up apple or two. I might try that one day. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfM4jNlgVUehLtapZZ59kfJqwcztu3avmGxkhk4bUasNVy4aGTxSCfvGyam6sKU8RkXfg5o0n2JAdSjckNe1hzEDL35DCnmVr3xlci1xy7eHj_kVmdz1ZCnQ7rQvhXIQaVxd34QlBNxVY5FfhJ0_dDG0ZkaUSXMmvmZs8AZnJRt5XxOz9dAra_w/s1500/Cranberry%20Relish.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfM4jNlgVUehLtapZZ59kfJqwcztu3avmGxkhk4bUasNVy4aGTxSCfvGyam6sKU8RkXfg5o0n2JAdSjckNe1hzEDL35DCnmVr3xlci1xy7eHj_kVmdz1ZCnQ7rQvhXIQaVxd34QlBNxVY5FfhJ0_dDG0ZkaUSXMmvmZs8AZnJRt5XxOz9dAra_w/s320/Cranberry%20Relish.jpg"/></a></div><P>
I think I kept the poppy seed dressing recipe solely for the admonition - in a different hand! - that the salad oil should never be olive oil. It sounds terribly sweet, what with twice as much sugar as vinegar. What would you dress with this? [Nothing. I can't imagine making this.] <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMS-XP_GEEmsabKfZSbHgdUZAVtfLp_7vfu8_E0AJ1sfscnXkWX8tSI1-MLe6w7FUoxEPbi3h3_zOnsJAQcYByGp-uSrMI5IRKTSuGEhF-_xGSM0FQhMPcUMdVZeWT3IpWflt_KYgj458-Pf-OktmnjZqU5d1_Irea8NBXBoF5UB68hc_RA9r4qA/s1500/Poppy%20Seed%20Dressing.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMS-XP_GEEmsabKfZSbHgdUZAVtfLp_7vfu8_E0AJ1sfscnXkWX8tSI1-MLe6w7FUoxEPbi3h3_zOnsJAQcYByGp-uSrMI5IRKTSuGEhF-_xGSM0FQhMPcUMdVZeWT3IpWflt_KYgj458-Pf-OktmnjZqU5d1_Irea8NBXBoF5UB68hc_RA9r4qA/s320/Poppy%20Seed%20Dressing.jpg"/></a></div><P>
And I know I kept the Tomato Conserve card because of the handwriting. Such a beautiful old hand, with the title leaning to the left, and the body copy leaning to the right. Also, this is a recipe meant to be canned, and sealed with hot paraffin. My grandmother, and several of the neighbors, used to can with paraffin, and I remember that satisfying pop when you gently rocked the paraffin off the top of the jam. And of course, you washed off the paraffin disk so it could be remelted and reused. Thrift! The Tomato Conserve, though. It sounds rather like a chutney - tomatoes, lemon, raisins, walnuts - but it lacks any seasoning, and might be kind of boring. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmEfQag1K0ncTugJhun16PZTeykf2SZd6pRfsnZy6HvI9k3xq4xU-euVcNX-YOnn-879wgFNJOT-M27TMLmVBSqPqCJTaJHA0CTpO8cjm0ca0f3D4Fo7fNm4MvP9k37mbVm4LHtJ0lpsRTRKKeQboJ8fp-uxIPwO_syA2_O_qDHrlrcOBzKrepZA/s1500/Tomato%20Conserve.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmEfQag1K0ncTugJhun16PZTeykf2SZd6pRfsnZy6HvI9k3xq4xU-euVcNX-YOnn-879wgFNJOT-M27TMLmVBSqPqCJTaJHA0CTpO8cjm0ca0f3D4Fo7fNm4MvP9k37mbVm4LHtJ0lpsRTRKKeQboJ8fp-uxIPwO_syA2_O_qDHrlrcOBzKrepZA/s320/Tomato%20Conserve.jpg"/></a></div>
Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-47170892593161291442024-02-21T17:45:00.004-05:002024-02-21T17:45:00.253-05:00Mrs. Wright's Main CoursesAs promised, here are some more of Mrs. Wright's recipe cards. I kept only a tiny handful that fall into the category of main courses - a pot roast, some meatballs, a chicken dish, and a thoroughly gross sounding recipe for tuna on biscuits.<p>
Pot roast might be my favorite. This is clearly the recipe of someone who knows how to cook, and just needs an outline. There is no cooking time, there are no instructions. It's really just fling a piece of meat in the crockpot with a package of onion soup mix and bob's your uncle. </p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJIyqtpss2iQdh1Ry92rDe89UwlLNkonIrQWDFpRHh2rDU_roghkwWpLPpgo90NIdiNEf79y0gYjn6JZvVvcuFMZqa6Rm6I5W3GSY0h62L1tudwjKicczu9ih0UwodnvZehBTjXVjgitbqxozhta5gPuUSIssD1KJANVpeaEFl6VMdJeTh-p6vg/s1500/Crockpot%20Pot%20Roast.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJIyqtpss2iQdh1Ry92rDe89UwlLNkonIrQWDFpRHh2rDU_roghkwWpLPpgo90NIdiNEf79y0gYjn6JZvVvcuFMZqa6Rm6I5W3GSY0h62L1tudwjKicczu9ih0UwodnvZehBTjXVjgitbqxozhta5gPuUSIssD1KJANVpeaEFl6VMdJeTh-p6vg/s320/Crockpot%20Pot%20Roast.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>
Buzzy's meatballs are similarly vague - do you sauté the meatballs, or cook them in the gravy? I guess you sauté them, because the gravy calls for "fat from the meat". And what makes them Swedish anyway? It's not like they've got lingonberry jam on the side. Like the pot roast recipe, this one's gonna be useless to anyone doesn't know how to cook. (And who is Buzzy??)</p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYDFE32L5vzVcT77eBjzN2dzx4SlEYUK7lHiwcgd3fxEHjEcTMaO-bN4mStP020ZeBQMSzUUMOo5njB3-SYJj0TolpxnBhmJzqWBXTg7Dbrta4JEoDrcF2f6x9owwiBU0d9Ae9WdaJA3Yaw7G8TUAVZDlTtrSjul8B7jUEa-7z-YsueOJyoZUIw/s1500/Buzzy%27s%20Swedish%20Meatballs.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYDFE32L5vzVcT77eBjzN2dzx4SlEYUK7lHiwcgd3fxEHjEcTMaO-bN4mStP020ZeBQMSzUUMOo5njB3-SYJj0TolpxnBhmJzqWBXTg7Dbrta4JEoDrcF2f6x9owwiBU0d9Ae9WdaJA3Yaw7G8TUAVZDlTtrSjul8B7jUEa-7z-YsueOJyoZUIw/w320-h192/Buzzy's%20Swedish%20Meatballs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>
I would guess that the Chicken Oahu is Hawaiian in that it has pineapple. Interestingly, though, it's the sauce that's called "Oahu sauce" - and the pineapple isn't in the sauce. In short - you brown some chicken, cook it in the crockpot on a bed of stuffing cubes and pineapple, and then spoon an odd sauce over the top. The sauce is celery, onion and green pepper, simmered in a bit of water, and enriched with sour cream and cream of mushroom soup, and seasoned with a bit of soy sauce. To be honest, the whole thing sounds nasty. <p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKn8aMMRTYW4yBVijd6myNXMsCjMQAALbXhr12BUoV74Fn_D2oT-leQhT1IQunzAq1GayhXSejx6P9YJSPpLAM0JMYe0XVKFevgPjZAmdz8n3KE17GwZ_wgunzQEGqrMqL3TRd3HjsFSblWwH0LyxEKTCcnadrxKsxfYSKcJ9gxjpaxGBtI56rIA/s2770/Chicken%20Oahu.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2549" data-original-width="2770" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKn8aMMRTYW4yBVijd6myNXMsCjMQAALbXhr12BUoV74Fn_D2oT-leQhT1IQunzAq1GayhXSejx6P9YJSPpLAM0JMYe0XVKFevgPjZAmdz8n3KE17GwZ_wgunzQEGqrMqL3TRd3HjsFSblWwH0LyxEKTCcnadrxKsxfYSKcJ9gxjpaxGBtI56rIA/s320/Chicken%20Oahu.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>
But Tuna on Biscuits takes the cake for nasty. Hot tuna, in a milky sauce, with hard boiled eggs. Poor biscuits. What did they do to deserve that?
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2WzECFqajmPZ4zOuQizMwgRgXT5s6r7OJmrDeqgda06QNVQ_3WLfTwBuZW1dFVEsS-OIdvwuRzPI_sF8Aoogq2JVVYXppplUHThV_MRKh9kDiJpq1XXmZL83_AhaypxBhnS4RQfebZoiOVxozhtJEM8fCfbDCOtOMl4Tz0ZWBqCkRoAy_cvJBQ/s1500/Tuna%20on%20Biscuits.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2WzECFqajmPZ4zOuQizMwgRgXT5s6r7OJmrDeqgda06QNVQ_3WLfTwBuZW1dFVEsS-OIdvwuRzPI_sF8Aoogq2JVVYXppplUHThV_MRKh9kDiJpq1XXmZL83_AhaypxBhnS4RQfebZoiOVxozhtJEM8fCfbDCOtOMl4Tz0ZWBqCkRoAy_cvJBQ/s320/Tuna%20on%20Biscuits.jpg" width="320" /></a>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-18551791425234961152024-02-19T14:34:00.003-05:002024-02-19T14:34:53.580-05:00All About JelloFor years, really, like (counts on fingers) 18 years, I have had an envelope with a little stack of recipe cards in it. I move it from time to time, not wanting to throw the cards out, but not ready to *do* something with them. You see, they were part of a dumpster-dive haul when the lady across the street from my mom got moved to assisted living, and her house was emptied and sold and torn down and replaced with a shitty McMansion. Lots of the cards are in Marian's handwriting, but some aren't and one's typed and finally today I got them scanned. <P>
Five are for jello or jello "salads". I mean, when was the last time you had jello salad or gelatinized anything? <P>
First up - Cucumber Jello salad. It's definitely in the "not a dessert" category, what with the onion. I'm going to guess that you have to chill it again after you stir in the sour cream and cucumber "cut in tiny chunks"? <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rY-2BhJl1vg9-llXKAfj8L-KmoMIil094URmNUCxckvsVxwvEzAa1uu2ECfLxxxfswkCQvmB_tqu8lXKnT8O1ozLlcoibU_u7unouMZvbnWAqnqax1GSVn1Vd_aLv_lu51C2umWfWytAiE7Th1W94Tpy-wZ8h7XnL3EqPf6vv0RyS6Dg6aa4nA/s1500/Cucumber%20Jello%20Salad.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rY-2BhJl1vg9-llXKAfj8L-KmoMIil094URmNUCxckvsVxwvEzAa1uu2ECfLxxxfswkCQvmB_tqu8lXKnT8O1ozLlcoibU_u7unouMZvbnWAqnqax1GSVn1Vd_aLv_lu51C2umWfWytAiE7Th1W94Tpy-wZ8h7XnL3EqPf6vv0RyS6Dg6aa4nA/s320/Cucumber%20Jello%20Salad.jpg"/></a></div> <P>
Next, another "not a dessert" jello: Tomato jello. Raspberry jello and a can of stewed tomatoes. I mean, I think that isn't a dessert - but what the hell is it? A side dish for a roast chicken? I wonder who Louise Reiss is (or more likely, was). <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitr3uAQh3DQjXZcLeHVA9xj_HlmAlO-VZE9YCoGOg1AuFKcU1VKyCTO6PEYOmMr8W02j0Lr0Tw4EJuxgWDPI4E0DvrvDISPoaHMbwNuAR7Qc1MqaYsn614qQ543pui4hnBY4-_hsTYsSh_DIo460mPris7jc-qHOrAQK84qc7gUQvQxE5Oh6r9Q/s1500/Louise%20Reiss%27s%20Tomato%20Jello.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitr3uAQh3DQjXZcLeHVA9xj_HlmAlO-VZE9YCoGOg1AuFKcU1VKyCTO6PEYOmMr8W02j0Lr0Tw4EJuxgWDPI4E0DvrvDISPoaHMbwNuAR7Qc1MqaYsn614qQ543pui4hnBY4-_hsTYsSh_DIo460mPris7jc-qHOrAQK84qc7gUQvQxE5Oh6r9Q/s320/Louise%20Reiss%27s%20Tomato%20Jello.jpg"/></a></div> <P>
Moving on, we have two things called "salad" but both skew more towards dessert for me. <P>
Jan's Salad is black cherry jello with fruit cocktail and frozen rasperries - with the option of chopped pecans or chopped apples. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKwroqdq68rS04hv4C51_fkGY9dLXUaQTqnfcEsbyvPUPXPEN0OxX6Vu1nbub0l7N1r3FgjvelqwY0YNztTZSB_w3ViBkeSzKYGkiaoe-VMBwRdHUYmHn4JbSDDD8mEax2eh111QxgoQDOsEjKi0AzfA-Giv3OlTmxs0gJyXxqUAZQjmWHPigqw/s1500/Jan%27s%20Salad.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKwroqdq68rS04hv4C51_fkGY9dLXUaQTqnfcEsbyvPUPXPEN0OxX6Vu1nbub0l7N1r3FgjvelqwY0YNztTZSB_w3ViBkeSzKYGkiaoe-VMBwRdHUYmHn4JbSDDD8mEax2eh111QxgoQDOsEjKi0AzfA-Giv3OlTmxs0gJyXxqUAZQjmWHPigqw/s320/Jan%27s%20Salad.jpg"/></a></div> <P>
And Fruited Nectar Salad mostly kind of sounds dessert-y - with ingredients like apricot nectar, mandarin oranges, seedless grapes and chopped apple. EXCEPT she's got a note to serve it with mayonnaise...so maybe it's not dessert after all. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBylmn5X0YHnHP3zisg0wutGSdCWGNYwcKJTdL8PXe5d3eJulecXR2ICIMC9uxmzamRyRwyF8mNk2HhoIoj3asYzzO0pwJc_LI1agHADxKVJLH7_MI3b0ebMCny6TESRCDDuOKswuORo_IxkDSYLzUUeu2wM_gj2QqpyURXBlyd6XkqtHbUbsXvQ/s1500/Fruited%20Nectar%20Salad.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBylmn5X0YHnHP3zisg0wutGSdCWGNYwcKJTdL8PXe5d3eJulecXR2ICIMC9uxmzamRyRwyF8mNk2HhoIoj3asYzzO0pwJc_LI1agHADxKVJLH7_MI3b0ebMCny6TESRCDDuOKswuORo_IxkDSYLzUUeu2wM_gj2QqpyURXBlyd6XkqtHbUbsXvQ/s320/Fruited%20Nectar%20Salad.jpg"/></a></div> <P>
Finally, we have Dessert. Just that - the card is titled dessert, the name of the recipe is dessert. It sounds a little like a lemon mousse - an egg yolk custard stirred into orange jello and then folded into beaten egg whites. Honestly, it doesn't sound too terrible. If I had some orange jello in the house, I might make it. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojdI74K89lIhNX9TZbNFwNigdeUnTluYm8UzzYY-uGV1oOcggKxaxw_77DOaNT52rHyyWXlTxtgVSZbUejmOHpmuNDojDyIzrlgp8m_0Z6UG1CkBO01lv0fVE-XK0TpdU4G9nyO-wqrerrCBDmqiEi9wmXJEzEf3K8DsKqmEfYrj5QbVioT46wA/s1800/Dessert.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojdI74K89lIhNX9TZbNFwNigdeUnTluYm8UzzYY-uGV1oOcggKxaxw_77DOaNT52rHyyWXlTxtgVSZbUejmOHpmuNDojDyIzrlgp8m_0Z6UG1CkBO01lv0fVE-XK0TpdU4G9nyO-wqrerrCBDmqiEi9wmXJEzEf3K8DsKqmEfYrj5QbVioT46wA/s320/Dessert.jpg"/></a></div><P>
Still to come: meat, condiments & dressings, non-jello desserts. Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-64989598662694416372024-01-31T20:39:00.001-05:002024-01-31T20:39:52.159-05:00I did it. I am feeling reasonably chuffed because tonight I finished <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1-mbo1nbUM" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Adriene's 30 day FLOW journey</a> - and the last practice was wordless. Yeah, I had to keep peeking at the screen, but yeah, I did it.* <P>
<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoyg36NmlbKPPqFidnfKOVX1oeQ6ewkxqbaN9LWuh7tTBnauoitBlaunOl8cotS-IztKQeGeE6A-XCgvB-E_LmtQDT8KAPCx2bt9cIqfFLK0RSlrM7UniWHRhEqRVOidxvmJbGNvLihT8MqjrYwYCNuG-6TQikqC4d7ZHpyPz37elZ6oebpxOi8w"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7330438732226918642" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoyg36NmlbKPPqFidnfKOVX1oeQ6ewkxqbaN9LWuh7tTBnauoitBlaunOl8cotS-IztKQeGeE6A-XCgvB-E_LmtQDT8KAPCx2bt9cIqfFLK0RSlrM7UniWHRhEqRVOidxvmJbGNvLihT8MqjrYwYCNuG-6TQikqC4d7ZHpyPz37elZ6oebpxOi8w=s320" /></a></p><P>
Now, on to February. <P><P><P><P>
*Cue: My Way
<iframe style="border-radius:12px" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/3spdoTYpuCpmq19tuD0bOe?utm_source=generator" width="100%" height="75" frameBorder="0" allowfullscreen="" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; fullscreen; picture-in-picture" loading="lazy"></iframe>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-32648094228749232402024-01-29T17:35:00.003-05:002024-01-29T17:35:50.253-05:00Two Truths And A Lie, musician edition<p> Jeff Buckley stroked my cheek and told me I had beautiful skin. </p><p><br /></p><p>I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art with Jimmie Dale Gilmore.</p><p><br /></p><p>Lou Reed gave me a scented candle. (Actually his first wife did, but yeah, I worked on something with him.)</p>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-62274994642141430642024-01-26T15:27:00.002-05:002024-01-27T12:26:12.355-05:0026 Days Into A New YearIt’s almost the end of January, but it’s not too late to report on New Year’s Resolutions, is it? Although, maybe they aren’t really *new year* resolutions – because some are short term, and at least one began back in the summer.<p>
1) Last summer, I started learning French in Duolingo – I have a 148 day streak. At this rate, I don’t think I’ll be fluent any time soon, but I like spending a few minutes a day working on my French.</p><p>2) A few years ago, my sister talked me into one of <a href="https://yogawithadriene.com/free-yoga-videos/ " rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Adriene</a>’s 30 day yoga journeys. I’m doing it again this year: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLui6Eyny-UzwwBB_riVPMdOF3cmheEPpy " rel="nofollow" target="_blank">FLOW</a>. I missed one day a couple of weeks ago – but made it up by doing two a couple of days later. I missed another earlier this week – and I’ll make it up this weekend. Adriene’s yoga classes are on demand on YouTube, and are mostly about 20 minutes long. 20 minutes of not-difficult yoga before bed has helped me sleep better.</p><p>3) In a fit of madness, I signed up for tap dancing classes. It was a bit of synchronicity – someone in my office had spread out 57 pairs of tap shoes on the same day that someone on Facebook posted a link to a class in the town next to me at a time I could actually make. So I borrowed a pair of tap shoes, and I’m working on coordinated noise.</p><p>
4) Right before the end of December, I saw a Facebook post about a <a href="https://footnotesandtangents.substack.com/p/war-and-peace" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">slow read of War & Peace</a>, so I’m doing that too. War & Peace is approximately 360 chapters (different editions are differently chaptered), so it’s a chapter a day for a year. There’s a guy who moderates; he provides a daily prompt for a reader chat, and a weekly sum up. And yesterday we finished book one/part one. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzt8gu8R8V0radYEHQxE4nVCL1Pxzai9GBJhJlHHQ_XXTVY6RzMtzNYni4iXZgGtjPKE1WoMd03_fNhkplDKdZDYDRLhXqoqv0hZmysQA-qIhXnTuPdhSkkvGrhlfVm4xnSnlJwtWyMZtyDlvyYn12XwkfopELvLmGEutcX3OlIgZLwDPHWLS48g"><img alt="" border="0" height="287" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7328483526647046738" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzt8gu8R8V0radYEHQxE4nVCL1Pxzai9GBJhJlHHQ_XXTVY6RzMtzNYni4iXZgGtjPKE1WoMd03_fNhkplDKdZDYDRLhXqoqv0hZmysQA-qIhXnTuPdhSkkvGrhlfVm4xnSnlJwtWyMZtyDlvyYn12XwkfopELvLmGEutcX3OlIgZLwDPHWLS48g=w320-h287" width="320" /></a></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>
<p>
Daily yoga, daily French, daily Tolstoy, weekly tap, and the daily puzzles* that I was already doing - all that adds up to a lot of regular tasks. But they are all enjoyable and maybe even rungs on a self-improvement ladder. Huh. I don't think I've ever done New Year's Resolutions before - but this year, not only have I done so, I've kept on keeping on. </p><p>
</p><p>
* So many puzzles:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>
New York Times Crossword (daily in pen, on the train, and usually I follow it up by checking on how <a href="https://rexwordpuzzle.blogspot.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Rex</a> felt about the puzzle)</li><li>
NYT Wordle (first thing in the morning, results texted to the kid, and occasionally shared more broadly if the grid of blocks is pleasing)</li><li>
NYT Connections (also in the morning)</li><li>
WAPO Keyword</li></ul><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-5470307494350587202023-05-05T19:06:00.001-04:002023-05-05T19:06:00.139-04:00Annals of Gardening: 5 May 2019Hmm. The folder of draft posts coughed up this picture of a list from 5 May 2019
- yes, four years ago. What was I thinking?
<p></p>
<p class="mobile-photo">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8J5eWYoKqjmhENvAQkt2XJ6QStXqHdDiFVST5HZikE4kliyvAzJoc8_XgtwgEjeFPVdZd9dAJdBQnSOYBUUzsRh4gdHYD2Kao6ogarKs72U0tIiMXPmJ_ZKVKmajFYHidSmGPA/s1600/IMG_2293-784776.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6687683207418017762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8J5eWYoKqjmhENvAQkt2XJ6QStXqHdDiFVST5HZikE4kliyvAzJoc8_XgtwgEjeFPVdZd9dAJdBQnSOYBUUzsRh4gdHYD2Kao6ogarKs72U0tIiMXPmJ_ZKVKmajFYHidSmGPA/s400/IMG_2293-784776.jpg" /></a>
</p>
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li>I believe I moved the nine bark, and it died where I put it. </li><li>The leucothoe is
happy in its new home; it has more light than it used to, and a stone wall to
droop over. It is not the best of shrubs, but I keep it because I dug it up at
my mother's house rather a while ago. </li><li>I planted a ton of Carex pensylvanica, and
none of it is still around. </li><li>The "lawn" is a perpetual disaster and there is a
shady sloped area that just will not grow a goddamned thing. I'm ready to pebble
it over. (It needs to be a walking path or I could fill it in with things that
would be happy.) </li><li>Dumping/deploying pots happens every year. </li></ul><div><br /></div><div>What's on your
garden list for today?
</div>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-31817536673070244672023-03-26T19:59:00.000-04:002023-03-26T19:59:09.411-04:00Library books and ephemeraNeed I tell you of the wonders of library books? Of course not, but I will. They are free (well, but for the modest sums folded into our taxes)! You don't need to give them house room when you are done! Sometimes other people have written bits in the margins (though they aren't supposed to). And sometimes people leave ephemera - a book mark, a ticket stub, a scrap of newspaer, or the checkout receipt if your library system is barcoded and computerized up to the hilt.<p><a href="https://amzn.to/40tR1Ka" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7214977851655934162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCxZJPH4w7DMsWUu84CUwLHXpEXMj8bFezlH8y0MJ5uQH1SIlsL75f5Vr9MNUUbgz0z5tLfjrZFYqgR0tgYIh-XyHd6hqY3eu32ZDDKA88DcuePuJkWvK-5hmtA8mwOyWFm-SaKfUJJ6j2aZ6ygfOAUDDj6zuh7CotkNLRBH3pv0bG9PlHhrQ=w234-h320" title="encyclopedia of an ordinary life" width="234" /></a></p><P>I can't remember why, but I recently took <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amy_Krouse_Rosenthal" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Amy Krouse Rosenthal</a>'s “<a href="https://amzn.to/40tR1Ka" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life</a>” out of my public library. It's lovely and heartbreaking and inspirational and funny. And its form - an encyclopedia, galloping alphabetically from entry to entry - is charmingly idiosyncratic.<P>Why heartbreaking? This book was published in 2005, and Rosenthal died in 2017 (at 51). In other words, she *had* died by the time I read this, but she didn't know how soon she was going to die, and how early.<P>DISTRACTION (p. 88)<P><i>I recognize that everything I do, from my work to going to the movies to raising children to vacuuming, might also be viewed as just one big distraction- Hey, look over here! And now, over here!-from belaboring the real issue at hand: One day I'm going to die. </i><P>It's one thing to say "I'm going to die" - it's another to up and do it.<P>How funny? Nuns. Or maybe blue jeans. Or even conversations with strangers.<P>
NUN (p. 149)<P><i>A friend sat next to a nun on a plane. He asked her what she missed most. "Wearing blue jeans," she replied.</i><P>Halfway through my reading, a prior borrower's checkout receipt fell out. It felt like the kind of random synchronicity that Rosenthal would have appreciated.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikuFm69JPphlu5WFh-w4hej2GiCxAm8WhvJ-7mRIwjeY-ivBrB1I27miqbFB3pJdqXZRUWJm2jiW5zQos03H9gWKkFw2JfNos7GyP3O7RM2R5XSzc3YA6zLfYb6lIsLxL2txDtxvpep56DdIw2cJgC5SlHhb1k2zqVlcte-bfRUUrawCHBisg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_7214977863755312562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikuFm69JPphlu5WFh-w4hej2GiCxAm8WhvJ-7mRIwjeY-ivBrB1I27miqbFB3pJdqXZRUWJm2jiW5zQos03H9gWKkFw2JfNos7GyP3O7RM2R5XSzc3YA6zLfYb6lIsLxL2txDtxvpep56DdIw2cJgC5SlHhb1k2zqVlcte-bfRUUrawCHBisg=s320" /></a><p>My curiosity was, of course, piqued. Usually the slips that fall out of library books are just for that single only solitary book - but here was a receipt with FOUR items on it. I looked them all up. <P>
Besides the Rosenthal, the other items were:<P><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><a href="https://amzn.to/40lTSVY" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">March</a>, by Geraldine Brooks </li><li><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57007683-the-apollo-murders" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">The Apollo Murders: A Novel</a>, by Chris Hadfield </li><li><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cave_of_Forgotten_Dreams" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Cave of Forgotten Dreams</a> (DVD), a documentary by Werner Herzog about the Chauvet Cave</li></ul><P>
I have a soft spot for murder mysteries (even if this one is about space), I recently finished one Geraldine Brooks book, a second of hers is on the to-be-read pile next to my bed, I am quite fond of <a href="https://amzn.to/3zebua0" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Little Women</a>, and while I am unlikely to watch a documentary on cave painting, I deeply appreciated the catholic range of the other borrower's library haul of November 2021. And I think Rosenthal would have liked this list as well. Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-87773256343459956722023-02-27T16:21:00.001-05:002023-02-27T16:21:00.232-05:00In Which Some Oatmeal Cookies Lead To A Rabbit HoleEvery few weeks, I bake a batch of cookies and mail them off to the college kid. This morning, I was looking for a gingersnap/<a href="http://www.magpiemusing.com/2008/12/cookies-christmas-and-otherwise.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">molasses cookie</a> recipe in my mother's <a href="http://www.magpiemusing.com/2014/01/mokys-black-book.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">black book</a>, but I got sidetracked by Lady Harlech's oatmeal cookies. <P>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTm65Qaaquc_Ev90aTMKRZCV-ew2P33XWZQD3U-A-RWxCEPd_Lhehn45kcEmW9Usi_rOkv2aWU7T_89aGVwST98b1WEdNDF6tCpS26gIELmK_sZ9lA2nn79porZ7Wcgo2LN8O-CbcchTKDRw6-ZPih3qiwaumW18ZCa360mKiCkA_l7Y3KYvY/s1374/lady%20harlech.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="927" data-original-width="1374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTm65Qaaquc_Ev90aTMKRZCV-ew2P33XWZQD3U-A-RWxCEPd_Lhehn45kcEmW9Usi_rOkv2aWU7T_89aGVwST98b1WEdNDF6tCpS26gIELmK_sZ9lA2nn79porZ7Wcgo2LN8O-CbcchTKDRw6-ZPih3qiwaumW18ZCa360mKiCkA_l7Y3KYvY/s320/lady%20harlech.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><P>
So I made them, with shortening even. After the dough was made, I realized that there is no salt in the recipe. So instead of squishing the cookies with a sugar-dipped glass, I seasoned the sugar with a bit of salt and cinnamon. The cookies were definitely too sweet, and sort of boring. If I try them again, I will use salted butter, and a half teaspoon of salt, and only a half a cup of white sugar. And then they won't be Lady Harlech's, they'll be mine.<P>
Cookies aside though, I started wondering about Lady Harlech. The recipe was photocopied from somewhere, but I don't know where. Google turned up NOTHING tying Lady Harlech to any oatmeal cookies. <P>
I detoured into ChatGPT for my own amusement, and it produced a semi-plausible bio:
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2iHI8pqsutWB_lgB1HN4J_Cnou-eDYsoJINWnh70OYSIsbejPiFScRa33fHOzUNoSqKz-0IVgo1MtNnbjv_QvuBFHfPtfaZygIKPG1GFX2nqb1D8XpE-cXgEKxDSLKkkcl-xR9Eeh9Kd-9Sfs8_yM-zWTG9T_wh5LAmEmO081Et3wJnSPFJw/s1600/Screenshot%202023-02-26%20at%204.48.32%20PM.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="938" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2iHI8pqsutWB_lgB1HN4J_Cnou-eDYsoJINWnh70OYSIsbejPiFScRa33fHOzUNoSqKz-0IVgo1MtNnbjv_QvuBFHfPtfaZygIKPG1GFX2nqb1D8XpE-cXgEKxDSLKkkcl-xR9Eeh9Kd-9Sfs8_yM-zWTG9T_wh5LAmEmO081Et3wJnSPFJw/s320/Screenshot%202023-02-26%20at%204.48.32%20PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><P>
Except that said bio doesn't actually track with other information I found about her - like: <div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li> She married Lord Harlech in 1969. </li><li>I don't know where the Guiness bit came from, because her maiden name was Pamela Colin. </li><li>I think she was born in 1934.</li><li>While she worked for Vogue, it was as a food editor. </li><li>And I think she's not <a href="https://prabook.com/web/pamela.harlech/27176" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">dead</a>. </li></ul> <P><P>
The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Ormsby-Gore,_5th_Baron_Harlech" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a> entry on her husband seems a whole lot more sound. <P>
Eventually, I figured out that she published two cookbooks as Pamela Harlech. Both cookbooks (<a href="https://archive.org/search?query=creator%3A%22Harlech%2C+Pamela%22" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Feast Without Fuss and Practical Guide to Cooking, Entertaining, and Household Management</a>) had been scanned into the Internet Archive, and while one contains an oatmeal cooky recipe, it's not this one.</div><P>
WHERE DID IT COME FROM? Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-30591883864375020022023-02-26T16:06:00.002-05:002023-02-26T16:06:46.325-05:00Who Sits On Boards?An article in the Times about a handful of states that are trying to legislate against ESG investing included this aside:<P>
<blockquote><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/24/your-money/anti-esg-investing-kentucky.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Keeping an eye on how climate change may affect a stock holding (or the place for a retirement home), or whether a board is made up mainly of white men from fancy colleges, is part of what anyone should consider when picking stocks.</a>
</blockquote><P>
I have teensy bits of money invested in a handful of places, and from time to time, I get proxy notices and an opportunity to vote for directors. I - without researching them - vote only for the women. It could be that I'm voting for horrible people with abhorrent opinions, but I also know that my vote is essentially meaningless and so I persist. Because boards shouldn't be only white men from fancy colleges.
Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-26408462463192895362023-02-03T15:45:00.004-05:002023-02-03T15:45:40.059-05:00CracksMy day, two days ago, my Wednesday, was bookended by cracks.<P>
Wednesday, 8:30 am<P>
I am fascinated by the marking paint that touches nearly every bit of the train platform. It’s neon orange, pink, green, and it traces out the hairline cracks that snake hither and yon across the concrete. Presumably someone has a crack filling plan, but to my eye it looks like they should rip up the whole platform and start over.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDGlK8bDpJ7rPrPoR8JN1I4FDHHgy7bq6XxpqrzJcJJUNiwWcbNjkiw9HiPpTOB52N_JOZtBNwOkDCjrbiDJo1H11JHNWPVccPO77vgaGYhhhg17_I-2UTYMWI9O-pIn-IQZvpdGBE9hbou7Tv2Nep3PRa8AM9Qj8qGoKC98o67viBpL-DfE/s4032/IMG_8468.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDGlK8bDpJ7rPrPoR8JN1I4FDHHgy7bq6XxpqrzJcJJUNiwWcbNjkiw9HiPpTOB52N_JOZtBNwOkDCjrbiDJo1H11JHNWPVccPO77vgaGYhhhg17_I-2UTYMWI9O-pIn-IQZvpdGBE9hbou7Tv2Nep3PRa8AM9Qj8qGoKC98o67viBpL-DfE/s320/IMG_8468.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><P>
Wednesday, 6:30pm<P>
I missed my train and had 20+ minutes to kill so I went sightseeing through a bit of the new LIRR terminal at GCT. It’s very clean (still!) and doesn’t (yet!) have that Penn Station aroma of glazed donuts overlaid with beer. It also has some nice huge mosaics. This is a small section of Kiki Smith’s River Light.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEBlzNw4wrnswppdfyabgcLmsK9C4KHgGzaeA-ZKV9c1FI6c8Difd2kd8HG4iJY-j01k42vPOEvZ7cOfgJt7kHK7pt1YCnWSp_rf4tDYgpO0fJQjnz8lzyALwH-wRmgAwGawMMQA4zjbKQc5LQ46N6C5PpI2XalJweR4L8Q4tDCtA1LD2o-Q/s3024/IMG_8474.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEBlzNw4wrnswppdfyabgcLmsK9C4KHgGzaeA-ZKV9c1FI6c8Difd2kd8HG4iJY-j01k42vPOEvZ7cOfgJt7kHK7pt1YCnWSp_rf4tDYgpO0fJQjnz8lzyALwH-wRmgAwGawMMQA4zjbKQc5LQ46N6C5PpI2XalJweR4L8Q4tDCtA1LD2o-Q/s320/IMG_8474.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><P>
At the north end of my train commute, the platform is in high disrepair. At the south end, new construction is enlivened with mosaics.<P>
Cracks, undesired.<P>
Cracks, desired.<P>
<a href="https://genius.com/Leonard-cohen-anthem-lyrics" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.</a></div>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-67098610311610179132022-04-17T17:59:00.001-04:002022-04-17T17:59:50.595-04:00Magpie on MagpiesSometimes the universe conspires and magpies come at you from all sides. All three of these magpies came to me this past week.(Click the pix for more information.)<p>
A friend sent a link to a podcast about a Japanese boy in an internment camp who befriended a magpie - or the magpie befriended him:<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://thisiscriminal.com/episode-186-the-magpie-4-8-2022/" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" src="https://thisiscriminal.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/Magpie_Art-1024x1024.png"/></a></div><p>
Another friend snapped a picture of a painting in a museum in Philadelphia, of a magpie eating cake:<p>
<a title="Rubens Peale, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Magpie_eating_cake-rubens_peale.JPG"><img width="512" alt="Magpie eating cake-rubens peale" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c4/Magpie_eating_cake-rubens_peale.JPG/512px-Magpie_eating_cake-rubens_peale.JPG"></a><p>
And the New York Times had an article about very very clever magpies in Australia, helping other magpies:<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/17/science/australian-magpies-clever.html" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="535" data-original-width="800" src="https://static01.nyt.com/images/2022/04/12/science/17tb-magpies/17tb-magpies-superJumbo.jpg?quality=75&auto=webp"/></a></div><p>
I do like magpies. They are smart and charismatic and nicely graphic.
Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-40600811025546792712022-02-26T15:19:00.014-05:002022-02-27T13:47:30.198-05:00I Have Solved the Buttermilk ProblemYou know how you buy a QUART of buttermilk because a recipe needs a little bit, and then the quart sits there in the fridge until it's over the hill and you throw it out, thereby wasting most of the quart? (And then you feel terrible because food waste is actually an enormous problem - the <a href="https://www.usda.gov/foodwaste/faqs" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">USDA estimate</a>s that more than 30% of the food supply gets wasted.)<p>I have figured it out, or - to be specific - I have found a way to buy one quart of buttermilk and use it all up in two recipes: Whole Grain Pancakes for breakfast, and Buttermilk Brined Chicken for dinner.</p><p>The recipe for the pancakes is something I adapted from the New York Times site; I changed up the flours a bit to reduce the carbohydrate load. They are very tender, and complexly flavored. We make up the whole batch and then I freeze what we don't eat for breakfast. They reheat well, in the toaster. In lieu of syrup, I usually blitz a handful of frozen strawberries in the microwave; they kind of fall apart and become a good syrup analog. Feel free to use maple syrup, if that's how you roll. </p><p></p><blockquote><div><br /></div><div>WHOLE GRAIN PANCAKES (makes about 14 good sized pancakes)</div><div>1 cup spelt (or whole wheat flour) </div><div>3/4 cup almond meal </div><div>1/2 cup cornmeal </div><div>1/4 cup rolled oats </div><div>2 teaspoons baking powder </div><div>1 teaspoon kosher salt </div><div>1/2 teaspoon baking soda </div><div>2 1/4 cups buttermilk </div><div>3 eggs </div><div>1/4 cup melted butter</div><div><br /></div><div> In a large bowl, mix together spelt, almond meal, cornmeal, oats, baking powder, salt and baking soda. In a medium bowl, mix together buttermilk, eggs, and melted butter. Add the egg mixture to the flour mixture and stir gently until smooth. </div><div><br /></div><div>Heat up a griddle over medium heat.
Add a little butter to the pan and let it melt. Using a 1/3 cup measure, pour batter onto griddle - make as many as you can at a time. Leave space for pancakes to spread. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cook until bubbles form and start to burst, about 3 minutes. Flip and cook until golden on the other side, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer to a plate as they finish, and serve immediately with butter and maple syrup or melted strawberries. </div><div><br /></div><div>Repeat with the remaining batter, until done. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you are going to freeze the excess, cool them on a baking rack. When cool, separate with waxed paper or parchment, and stack them into an airtight freezer container.
</div></blockquote><div></div><div><br /><p>Once you've finished breakfast, you're going to want to brine the chicken. Back up. You've been roasting chicken for years. You shove a lemon or some herbs in the cavity, fling the bird in a cast iron skillet in a hot oven, and bob's your uncle. Roast chicken gets A LOT of ink, but it's not hard; it's just roast chicken. But. Brining your chicken in buttermilk? It's kind of magic. You think there's nothing new under the sun, and then you decide to make the quart of buttermilk come out even, and yeah. Do it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6fZBBTfhhLlcjYDAvXCvz4AVmVff_2Fyg5pdsiS2k0EkEsHdz51MNWUdLIdjcrujo1h9ucXkhq_bVUf7WT5WKrBgGXrpGKXqgYSyCY0GRyqlVRjS4Nb68hXUe75DemSbmSYXGiDC_PQ2fEbwkLKc1FM6TLTLJWkjuHXrwn1GbdOk0efYXHwY=s3024" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6fZBBTfhhLlcjYDAvXCvz4AVmVff_2Fyg5pdsiS2k0EkEsHdz51MNWUdLIdjcrujo1h9ucXkhq_bVUf7WT5WKrBgGXrpGKXqgYSyCY0GRyqlVRjS4Nb68hXUe75DemSbmSYXGiDC_PQ2fEbwkLKc1FM6TLTLJWkjuHXrwn1GbdOk0efYXHwY=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><P>Here's the thing: Samin Nosrat tells you to use 2 cups of buttermilk for one chicken in a gallon ziplock bag. BUT 1 3/4 cups is fine too, and 1 3/4 cups is what you have left after you're done making pancakes. Nosrat's recipe is divine and it's on her <a href="https://www.saltfatacidheat.com/buttermilkmarinated-roast-chicken" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">website</a>. But you should get her book - <a href="https://amzn.to/3snLnee" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Salt Fat Acid Heat</a> - because it's good and useful and informative. <p></p></div><p>
And there you have it. Two recipes, one quart of buttermilk, no science experiments with the leftover lurking in the back of the refrigerator. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-7322587255129016392022-02-25T16:11:00.000-05:002022-02-25T16:11:43.130-05:00My Crankiness Knows No Bounds, and Yet...About a month ago, I posted a picture of an envelope on Facebook...
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgY_R16QusG_SWBk5MDdcE2Nz2d9D2T6SZX32oCqzIMB23eFBL7XV_mZ1rPBOZXLTrhNKAmef2vhJoGs09AU2I8Bn0DFLbq-5h4VU2__pyfbdnOuapCxLOBt9W9CEjQsTLrY-MtFnXmFN4tAj56bRopYohXRx4H0b1X7tSLcrDMwQG4SjpYQTU=s4032" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="PICTURE OF AN ENVELOPE WITH SOME 1-CENT STAMPS" border="0" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgY_R16QusG_SWBk5MDdcE2Nz2d9D2T6SZX32oCqzIMB23eFBL7XV_mZ1rPBOZXLTrhNKAmef2vhJoGs09AU2I8Bn0DFLbq-5h4VU2__pyfbdnOuapCxLOBt9W9CEjQsTLrY-MtFnXmFN4tAj56bRopYohXRx4H0b1X7tSLcrDMwQG4SjpYQTU=s320" width="320" /></a>
</div>
<p>
...with a comment:
<i>See that envelope? That's in the outgoing mail. Does it have a check in it?
It does not. It has a note asking that they take me off of their list
because of that ridiculous stunt with the five 1-cent stamps.</i>
</p>
<p>
Incidentally, this is not the first time that Human Rights Watch has used this
direct mail ploy; I wrote about it two years ago, on this very
<a href="http://www.magpiemusing.com/.../what-were-they-thinking.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">blog</a>!
</p>
<p>
Today's mail included ANOTHER solicitation from Human Rights Watch. I opened
it. (I always open the solicitations, it's like a busman's holiday - you have
to check out what other non-profits are doing - and if they're really
appealing I might even send them to my Development Department. And sometimes the March of Dimes sends you an actual dime - free money! I digress.)
</p>
<p>
I had to laugh. Instead of a bunch of live 1-cent stamps, it had printed
images of stamp-like doodles.
</p>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBlVJYIaqDdYr23idYkW4-gf_Xb6de1hlbC6nD3cIofSHsb_gFyD2oR__gjiCO5XRCbEKrMDW86Ehca69Qy2DxPlCW5lUkU2Y30zIWkQqB6_CWsieUa-XvL2HXeeHEwX7uB9COeGuModRHdW9D8_DqJkgkYpmNPme5hTTXVFStyHInsMktDco=s2554" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1502" data-original-width="2554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBlVJYIaqDdYr23idYkW4-gf_Xb6de1hlbC6nD3cIofSHsb_gFyD2oR__gjiCO5XRCbEKrMDW86Ehca69Qy2DxPlCW5lUkU2Y30zIWkQqB6_CWsieUa-XvL2HXeeHEwX7uB9COeGuModRHdW9D8_DqJkgkYpmNPme5hTTXVFStyHInsMktDco=s320" width="320" /></a>
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<p>
Well played, Human Rights Watch, well played. (But no, don't put me back on
your list.)</p>
Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-29986892531655103132022-01-23T16:56:00.000-05:002022-01-23T16:56:42.373-05:00The Warmth Of A QuiltThe summer before I went to college, my mother and I made a patchwork quilt for
my dorm room. It wasn’t fancy, just a log cabin pattern made of 2” x 6” strips
made into 6” blocks. And it wasn’t actually quilted - it was tied through to the blue and white gingham backing with yarn at the intersections of the blocks. On one of the corner
blocks, I embroidered my initials and the year.<p>
That quilt cheerfully lived on my dorm bed for four years, but once I graduated, it got stored away at my mother’s house.</p><p>
Years later, after my daughter moved from a crib to a bed, I pulled the quilt
out of storage. It looked perfect in her room. But over time, small person
shenanigans, coupled with the age of the quilt, meant that the fabric was springing holes at the drop of a hat. Periodically, I’d haul it off
the bed and appliqué new patches in place - patching the patchwork - but
eventually I put it away and bought a down comforter for her bed.</p><p>
This past September, she went off to college - to my alma mater, as it
happens. Her dorm room is on a corner, and her bed is hard up against the
window, and it’s a little chilly. She told me she thought she needed another
blanket - and the quilt popped into my head.</p><p>
So we pulled it out, and carefully catalogued the fragile spots, and I taught
her how to cut the strips, turn and iron the edges, wrestle the quilt into
position in the sewing machine, and patch patch patch.</p><p>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaER4YqHkRrHLPsFv9d3109jVT_Fn0s4EPkN9M4h4qtl9S1nseptvKxMTEjMWE2QBZqmcrLUyBnMDawhZEkXElycgYhftcMGc4rPE5Pv0MJ0SeXB-cVb-HTq_1NQuacs-HH2xEWXzEoO-vV9fMXQnzEpzVQiv11sD51J6v2RKv9GUYs1mws-M=s2048" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaER4YqHkRrHLPsFv9d3109jVT_Fn0s4EPkN9M4h4qtl9S1nseptvKxMTEjMWE2QBZqmcrLUyBnMDawhZEkXElycgYhftcMGc4rPE5Pv0MJ0SeXB-cVb-HTq_1NQuacs-HH2xEWXzEoO-vV9fMXQnzEpzVQiv11sD51J6v2RKv9GUYs1mws-M=s320" width="320" /></a><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">We rebound the edges, and she embroidered a strip with her initials and
2022. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisWMsd9diONsvAg0fcbLGq5DlQALKd3dMQvmh0tr001cRIqcFg6bUN6bqOaQtwscFfTmnulWvib-78y91ErbB7K7Ncc5G-Ka5MOJhkMUmkXMC9cVqtF1ZwrNlZdHVvnEKtIXueIAnVVC_Ws3gb4LSLpvNqXXOhK6Q1WwyUOezWjDG9B4vlHR4=s3052" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="3052" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisWMsd9diONsvAg0fcbLGq5DlQALKd3dMQvmh0tr001cRIqcFg6bUN6bqOaQtwscFfTmnulWvib-78y91ErbB7K7Ncc5G-Ka5MOJhkMUmkXMC9cVqtF1ZwrNlZdHVvnEKtIXueIAnVVC_Ws3gb4LSLpvNqXXOhK6Q1WwyUOezWjDG9B4vlHR4=s320" /></a>The quilt went back to school with her yesterday. <br /> <br /></div>
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It is crudely made, as far as quilts go, but it is full of love - my mother's, mine, and now my daughter's. And I hope it keeps her warm for years to come. Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-87262037157398791752021-05-31T18:25:00.005-04:002021-05-31T18:27:39.711-04:00Punch Line: Absence<div></div>An old family friend died today. They lived around the corner from us, and when we moved around the block, they lived down the street. <div><br /></div><div>My father first met Wally when he came around a corner and discovered a guy with a beat up Land Rover and a trailer ... and a boat that had fallen off the trailer into the street. They became fast friends - and remained friends for the next 50 years. <div><br /></div><div> Wally was a musician, a raconteur, a delight.
He loved to fish; here he is in the Deschutes, with his first steelhead, wearing an inimitable hat.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfujSnsSsMN97wtpaAtzqdhT_mo8u-yk4eOlnbbZQoX-cWvzDbE26J7SExXBgdbjnn900J1qbgmdmIo30v54WhGAOw5sNykdFdMx6BQraYT4E-v8WSyJ4QJiiWHxb9oy8EqTg6A/s1824/003_3.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1824" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfujSnsSsMN97wtpaAtzqdhT_mo8u-yk4eOlnbbZQoX-cWvzDbE26J7SExXBgdbjnn900J1qbgmdmIo30v54WhGAOw5sNykdFdMx6BQraYT4E-v8WSyJ4QJiiWHxb9oy8EqTg6A/s320/003_3.JPG" /></a></div>
And he was an inveterate joke teller. Here's one: </div><div><br /></div><div> A guy went to the doctor and said, <i>Doctor, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but every time I fart, it sounds like the word
honda. </i></div><div><i>That’s interesting. I've never heard of anything like that before. Do you think you could fart for me?</i> says the doctor. </div><div>The guy said <i>okay</i> and sure enough, the doctor heard <i>honda</i>. </div><div>After several attempts to figure out what was wrong with the guy, the doctor ran out of ideas, so he sent him to all sorts of specialists, but none of them could figure out why the guy's farts sounded like <i>honda</i>.
Finally, as a last resort, someone suggested that the guy see a dentist. </div><div>After explaining the problem to the dentist, the dentist opened the guy's mouth and examined his teeth.
The dentist said <i>Aha! You have an abscessed tooth</i>. </div><div>The guy said <i>Okay, but what has that got to do with my farts?</i></div><div><i>Don't you see?</i> said the dentist, <i>Abscess Makes The Fart Go Honda</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wally, I hope you are telling your jokes to the angels. </div></div>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-17697099448326807782021-01-29T17:17:00.000-05:002021-01-29T17:17:52.093-05:00On saints and plumbing parts"Why," asked my husband, "do you have a reducer on your desk?"
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href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmQx_2xHQQaznaQ8eXAbh-zwdvRzh-sOpaxYlHsUN3oRke9EIA8pB_H8xhLE4Q-5g93jeqJ0-ktop0cE-A4z5Y_U_EoIboqlNpEm2R3BFU4PmlsEFYU_4qRlq4m4RdLZT-fbO8g/s1600/reducer-787124.jpeg"
><img
alt=""
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id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6922496810547108994"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmQx_2xHQQaznaQ8eXAbh-zwdvRzh-sOpaxYlHsUN3oRke9EIA8pB_H8xhLE4Q-5g93jeqJ0-ktop0cE-A4z5Y_U_EoIboqlNpEm2R3BFU4PmlsEFYU_4qRlq4m4RdLZT-fbO8g/s320/reducer-787124.jpeg"
/></a>
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<div>
Well, it's not really my *desk* - it's really our dining room table, but I
have been working from home for ten and a half months and it's not like we're
throwing dinner parties, and yes, I had been rummaging around in the bin of
spare plumbing bits in the cellar, because I needed something to act as a
candlestick. As one does.
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<div>
Over time, I've accumulated many many candles - mostly tapers, some pillars, a
few in jars or tins. Some I've bought, some were gifts, a couple of dozen were
a score from our local Buy Nothing page (a super useful iteration of
Facebook). And yes, some of the candle stash came home with me when we cleaned
out our mother's house. Since about mid-December, because it's dark and cold
out, we've been lighting candles on the mantle almost every night. I have, as
a result, been working through the candle drawer.
</div>
<div><br /></div>
<div>
Stuffed way in the back was a plastic bag, clear plastic, the long narrow kind
the newspaper comes in. (My mother was the queen of reusing every single
plastic bag, even the ones that had had newsprint in them and probably
shouldn't have had celery stored in them later.) Inside, wrapped in tattered
newsprint, I could feel several candles. My fingers knew that they were bigger
wider taller than standard tapers, so I've ignored them for years, thinking
they were some kind of utility candle. But the other day, I pulled them out
and unwrapped them. Huh. Two tapers, and one half taper. The half taper had
been sawed cleanly across - so the wick was merely visible in cross section,
no little loose bit of string emerged. More mysteriously, all three were
stamped STA. ISABEL down towards the bottom.
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And because they were bigger than normal, they weren't going to fit in any
candlestick I own. Happily, the reducer worked PERFECTLY.<br />
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Many questions remain, though. Where did my mother come by three clearly
ecclesiastical candles? Who was
<a
href="https://www.saintisabel.org/Who-Is-Saint-Isabel-"
rel="nofollow"
target="_blank"
>Saint Isabel</a
>? Why did someone saw the third candle in half? And how did it take me so
long to surface these mysteries?
</div>
Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-8628409208681421772021-01-02T17:02:00.000-05:002021-01-02T17:02:02.082-05:00Book Log 2020It is a perennial conundrum that I used to rail about the child's "required" book logs, back when she was in elementary school, and yet I delight in recording the books I've read via my Goodreads account.
I *think* I read 68 books in 2020.
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Last year, I started tagging books as male/female authors, and fiction/non-fiction. </p><p>It took a little data manipulation to figure out what I'd read, but I can report that I made a conscious effort to read books by women and in fact, did so: I read 46 books by women, and 21 by male authors. (One book was an anthology, hence 46 + 21 does not equal 68.) </p><p>Other stats:
I read 19 library books, 7 mysteries, 2 books of poetry, and 2 cookbooks. 11 books were non-fiction, 6 were re-reads, and I abandoned 6. </p><p>I rarely give star ratings to the books I log on Goodreads, and my "reviews" are really just notes to self - they aren't intended to be comprehensive reviews.
That said, I did give four stars to these good books: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/11/19/books/review/the-corner-that-held-them-sylvia-townsend-warner-medieval-bodies-jack-hartnell.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">The Corner That Held Them (Sylvia Townsend Warner) </a></li><li><a href="https://www.npr.org/2014/02/04/268951211/a-widows-quiet-life-leaves-room-for-sex-guns-and-literature" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">An Unnecessary Woman (Rabih
Alameddine) </a></li><li><a href="https://amzn.to/389RGZ0" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">A Wall of Light (Edeet Ravel) </a></li></ul><p></p><p>And five stars to these: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><a href="https://amzn.to/3rKh4fw" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Becoming Duchess Goldblatt: A Memoir (Anonymous) </a></li><li><a href="https://amzn.to/3rJ0BbD" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">The Dutch House (Ann Patchett) </a></li><li><a href="https://amzn.to/3nf7w92" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Here (Richard McGuire) </a></li><li><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/18/books/review/review-an-odyssey-daniel-mendelsohn.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">An Odyssey: A Father, a Son, and an Epic (Daniel Mendelsohn) </a></li><li><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/09/books/review/the-old-ways-by-robert-macfarlane.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot (Robert Macfarlane) </a></li><li><a href="https://amzn.to/2LiN0Xq" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Olive, Again (Elizabeth Strout) </a></li></ul><p></p><p>The Mendelsohn reminds me - I read <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/books/the-first-english-translation-of-the-odyssey-by-a-woman-was-worth-the-wait/2017/11/16/692cdf82-c59a-11e7-aae0-cb18a8c29c65_story.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Emily Wilson's translation of The Odyssey,</a> as well as <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/08/31/a-beowulf-for-our-moment" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Maria Dahvana Headley's translation of Beowulf</a>. And I was amused to find myself shelving the Headley RIGHT NEXT TO the <a href="https://amzn.to/385aqJ1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf</a>. How convenient to have the translator's names so similar, so as to make the filing of Beowulf so satisfying. (It is entirely possible that we have at least another Beowulf, but I did not check.) Reading An Odyssey shortly after The Odyssey was good - it gave me a lot of insight into the book. Similarly, I read <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mere_Wife" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Headley's The Mere Wife</a> before I read her Beowulf; The Mere Wife is a modern day novel riffing on the Beowulf tale, and helped me figure out some of the bones of the poem.
[It occurs to me that I tagged neither Beowulf nor The Odyssey as poetry...perhaps I should have!] </p><p>Possibly the oddest book I read was one on fungi. Funguses. Merlin Sheldrake's book is called Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds & Shape Our Futures - and it is FASCINATING, so much so that I gave two copies away to friends. If you don't want to read a book about fungi, check out <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CBySfWtlOT4/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Sheldrake's Instagram post, where he eats his book</a>. There's a fungus among us. </p><p>The last book I finished in 2020 was one I got for Christmas: <a href="http://www.windychien.com/theyearofknots" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">The Year of Knots</a>. It's kind of a "how to" book - but it's both how to tie (some knots) and how to be more creative in your life. I've now learned to tie three new decorative flat knots, and I've even memorized one of them. I'm not sure that I'll be taking up macrame in 2021, but stranger things have happened. </p>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-88930473299326045082020-12-30T15:38:00.000-05:002020-12-30T15:38:11.464-05:00Technical ChallengeHas 2020 been anything but a technical challenge? It's certainly not been a signature bake, and if it's a showstopper, it's the kind that falls down and uses salt in place of sugar.
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Our Christmas was a technical challenge. My husband woke up in the middle of the night and discovered that our power was out, due to a crazy tropical storm. Con Ed promised restoration by 3pm, so we sent the kid to Starbucks for coffee and breakfast snacks, opened our presents 'round the unlit tree, read books and played Gin Rummy, and ate shelf-stable soup for lunch. In mid-afternoon, Con Ed revised the restoration estimate to 11am the next day, so we pulled out the portable generator, started her up (yay!), and began running extension cords. And ... POWER. But by then it was about 4:30, so we ordered Chinese food for dinner.<P>
On Boxing Day, we made popovers for breakfast, and roasted the (insanely large for three people) roast for dinner - all the Christmas day meals, delayed a day.
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(Yes, we are still eating leftover pork.)<P>
So, it was somewhat fitting that my birthday present from my daughter - yes, my birthday is four days after Christmas - was a technical challenge.
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She measured out most of the ingredients, and gave me an untitled <a href="https://www.pbs.org/food/recipes/marys-victoria-sandwich/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">recipe</a> (the full recipe, not a GBBS sketch).
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I elected to make it as a "regular" Victoria sandwich, without the layer of buttercream. And it was delicious - even if it meant that I had to make my own birthday cake.
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Technical challenge, WON. Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-20733428178750540382020-11-25T09:54:00.003-05:002020-12-11T09:56:16.707-05:00The Punch-fueled Post-pandemic Pot-luck Party that I am Planning<div style="clear: both;">When I got married, one of my cousins put together a recipe book, of family recipes from my paternal grandparents side of the family. The recipes had originally been written out by our grandfather's mother, and given to our grandmother Marion back in 1931.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1p4BgBNRxaFGUaYtL_bKys2ruJREy7gXWI3O7lGeXy8Fm7XcZTshSi0yOTqR0UtC8Br8viSIvnWXzKr1sdF3_rRyM9ej9JhHkh-23HkSWcMo8Z_qORSqgQ2BFFXiG4QYf3xT05g/s0/Anna+to+Marion.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="To Marion, from Anna" border="0" data-original-height="1040" data-original-width="2048" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1p4BgBNRxaFGUaYtL_bKys2ruJREy7gXWI3O7lGeXy8Fm7XcZTshSi0yOTqR0UtC8Br8viSIvnWXzKr1sdF3_rRyM9ej9JhHkh-23HkSWcMo8Z_qORSqgQ2BFFXiG4QYf3xT05g/w320-h163/Anna+to+Marion.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>It wasn't a wedding present; my grandparents had already been married for several years.
Truth be told, I've never made anything out of that recipe book. It's mostly baked goods and sweets: cakes and cookies and brownies and icings and rice puddings.
But I pulled it out because I was casting about for a Christmas gift for my father, and came across an <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/212953437/handwritten-recipe-tea-towel-recipe" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Etsy seller</a> who prints your scanned recipes on tea towels.
I chose the New Year punch for him, as it seemed holiday-ish.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xyVKg5rtdUng40CUDKWdMG4_TPFswNzHz0pWEh_nC4KvqauRtEt72J82vhbdYOAAK8pAU5GicvnIUM30Hpxd-rzHNhKwU2k5bExcs9dVSX87_lDBpZmgyOHngsuFb54U7R-Wlw/s0/Oma+Gottsch+Recipe.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="New Year Punch" border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="2048" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xyVKg5rtdUng40CUDKWdMG4_TPFswNzHz0pWEh_nC4KvqauRtEt72J82vhbdYOAAK8pAU5GicvnIUM30Hpxd-rzHNhKwU2k5bExcs9dVSX87_lDBpZmgyOHngsuFb54U7R-Wlw/w320-h192/Oma+Gottsch+Recipe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It's a perfectly ordinary sounding punch: red wine, white wine, strong tea, oranges & lemons, sugar, and dark rum. If one were in the habit of serving punch, and one weren't in the middle of a pandemic, it's probably a great recipe.<div><br /></div><div>I am, however, oddly intrigued and disgusted by the War Cake.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBibwbNtqJgeTTCgR-dAa9-HOpPKr0xgJ0et63t4t4WGW06V9HH0s-kknxkSmV4B4v1BuvHqLo1Qns7pUGStjDrzORlHuyq2w3NB4KOtW_gHspJlJLB7Fl66F-93C99av_ymNyg/s0/War+Cake.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="War Cake" border="0" data-original-height="1120" data-original-width="2048" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBibwbNtqJgeTTCgR-dAa9-HOpPKr0xgJ0et63t4t4WGW06V9HH0s-kknxkSmV4B4v1BuvHqLo1Qns7pUGStjDrzORlHuyq2w3NB4KOtW_gHspJlJLB7Fl66F-93C99av_ymNyg/w320-h175/War+Cake.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Boil up some lard, raisins and coffee. Add flour, baking soda, and spices. Bake for an hour. There's no sugar, except what comes from the raisins. There aren't any eggs. There's very little fat. Maybe I'll make it for the next punch-fueled post-pandemic pot-luck party. </div></div>Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31542820.post-47189953952995151912020-10-27T14:35:00.004-04:002020-10-27T17:24:16.824-04:00LewisI am heartbroken today. My priest died early this morning. <P>
If you know me, you know that I’m a dyed in the wool atheist. But once upon a time, I worked at a non-profit organization that was housed in an Episcopal church. Lewis arrived one day as the assistant rector, and we’ve been friends ever since.<P>
Lewis’s sister asked that we send our “favorite Lewis memories out into the universe to do good and to ease his passage as he becomes one with cosmos”. Lewis, this one’s for you.<P>
Lewis was smart as hell, and foul-mouthed in a way you don’t expect from a priest. He’s the person I called when I needed to figure out if I was a heathen-atheist, or a pagan-atheist. I think we settled on heathen, but I do like the prosody of heathenpaganatheist. Lewis had a huge appetite for life, and was full of stories. Did you know that Saabs once came with two engines? I learned that from Lewis, who had one once.<P>
When my husband and I were planning our wedding, we scratched our heads about who was going to perform the ceremony. I had the whimsical idea that we could call in three of the wise men from the neighborhood: the Methodist minister from across the street, the rabbi from next door, and the Joyce scholar from down the hill – but instead I asked Lewis, with a smidgeon of trepidation because of the whole atheist business. He agreed in a heartbeat– and married us, using a secular edit of the ceremony out of the Book of Common Prayer. I had a moment of horror when he wrapped his stole around our hands, but whatever prayer he sent up, he kept to himself.<P>
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Years later, after my daughter was born, Lewis came to visit. She was tiny – a month or so old – and he brought her a huge-looking toddler-sized pair of red glitter-encrusted Mary Janes, merrily decreeing that “every little girl needs a pair of ruby slippers from an old queen!”<P>
A few weeks after my mother died, we had a memorial celebration at her house. Lewis came, carrying a shovel because I told him to, and dug up bits of her plants to take to his new garden. I love knowing that my mother’s garden extends to a churchyard on Staten Island<P>
Lewis, my friend, my life is richer for having known you.
Magpiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15460136246441367993noreply@blogger.com8