December 2009

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Wonderful

The more I wonder…the more I love.

Alice Walker

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May your holidays be filled with much wonder and love, my sweet blog friends.  I’ll see you back here in the New Year.

Big Hug,

Colleen

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For a long stretch of time last year, I wanted to move to the country.  I thought it would be nice to have quiet, to see the stars shine, and a bit more space between me and some of my neighbors, without a view of their varying, ahem, decorating styles (snob).  I also thought raising my own livestock, like chickens and a pig, would be fulfilling.  I’d know where everything came from, what it was fed, and that it had a good life.  I have since changed my mind – loving the easy walk to Hawthorne, Woodstock, and downtown, the lure of the Academy Theater, and best of all, my dear friends who live nearby.

This, however, does not mean that I don’t like to occasionally wax poetic on the virtues of a hobby farm, and so I read about them in wonderful blogs and books like today’s.  In Made from Scratch, Jenna Woginrich writes in simple, yet beautiful prose about her life as a homesteader: baking, raising animals, growing vegetables, keeping bees, even making music on a fiddle.

What I liked best about the book is her honesty.  She’s never done any of this before, but is willing to “Research, Son” and ask questions (and for help) like nobody’s business.  As she writes about her experiences, we learn that, while there are many, many joys to a more earth driven and sustainable life, homesteading isn’t always easy, poetic, or romantic.  There are many hurdles and much to learn, like how to plant a sensible garden, keep bears from a bee hive, or to put down an animal in dire pain (the hardest part of all, I think).

It is a wonderfully rewarding journey, even if it was only vicarious.  She’s also got a blog if you’d like to see what she’s up to at the moment.  It’s pretty interesting: Cold Antler Farm.

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Day Dreaming

Imagination is the highest kite one can fly.

Lauren Bacall

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Isn’t it neat how life works out?  You think you are going to do one thing, but for some reason it doesn’t happen, and there you are doing something better.  That was our Sunday.  We got up and moving rather leisurely with the intention of walking to get the hubster’s hair cut.  However, once we found the coupon we were to use (our household is quite thrifty) and realized it wasn’t a walking distance affair, we had a change of plan.

Still determined to walk, we set out in a different direction and collected the greens for this year’s holiday mantel and window.  Though I was a bit worried about finding enough, there was plenty.  There always is.  Then we came home and decorated, taking in the heady scent of evergreen.  If Christmas has a scent, that is it for me.  Wonderful.   New additions include the diamond church (Gregory’s name for the sparkle) and the tall white house.  It is simple and pretty and a bit of a hodge podge, but I like it just the same.  The hubster thinks it’s pretty neat, too, especially since we have one small box of decorations and use what nature provides on a fun walk, together.  He is also quite fond of the fact that the greens go right into the fireplace when we’re done, filling the house with the scent of the holidays one last time.

This last shot is for my Dad.  When I lived at home, and all the decorating was done, he would turn off the lights.  We’d sit quietly in the glow of the tree and admire the beauty of it all.  Shh…

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When I was a kid, I loved spinning.  Loved it.  I would go out in our rather capacious yard, extend my arms and go like a top.  I’d focus on the undulation of my fingers as I twirled, greens and browns streaking by.  Then when I couldn’t take another second, I’d drop dramatically to the ground, look up at the sky and marvel in the sensation that, despite my stillness, my body was still spinning.  Heaven.  This was such a habit that my Mom told me I’d likely grow up to be a dervish.  While I do love watching them, I’ve never actually become one, save, I suppose, for the occasional wild romp in the yard and cleaning.

Mondays are top to bottom cleaning days around here – laundry, vacuuming, mopping, dusting, toilet scrubbing – the whole kit and kaboodle.  I used to do a little each day but then felt like that was all I was doing, and it left me kind of depressed.  Now that it is condensed into one day, I get a pretty good workout and a gleaming, sweet smelling house at the end.  By the way, is it wrong to be in love with the scent of Murphy’s Oil Soap?  If it is, sign me up for the program to get me off the stuff.  Gosh it smells gooood.

The only problem with my dervish style clean is that I am pretty tuckered out by the end of the day and not terribly keen on making dinner.  Thankfully there are fast, make at home meals like this that are delicious without being at all taxing.  Otherwise, I don’t know what we’d be eating; maybe chips and salsa?

Roasted Cauliflower Soup

1 head cauliflower

olive oil

1/2 of one small onion

2 cloves garlic

1/4 cup raw cashews

3 cups chicken or vegetable broth

salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.  Remove the stem and leaves from the cauliflower.  Break up the head into florets.  Place on a baking pan and roast for 15 minutes, until golden brown.

Meanwhile, roughly chop the onion and garlic.  Saute with a bit of olive oil in a medium soup pot over medium heat until translucent.  Add roasted cauliflower, cashews, and broth; bring to a boil.  Turn the heat to low and puree with an immersion blender or process in a blender in batches until smooth.  Season with salt and pepper.  Makes about four adult sized bowls (I know, so precise).

We had ours with a little cheese toast (with Dave’s Killer Bread! Good bread and an even better story) sprinkle with smoked paprika.  It was delicious and warm.  Warm is good, too.

Enjoy!

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By Chance

One cannot divine nor forecast the conditions that will make happiness; one only stumbles upon them by chance, in a lucky hour, at the world’s end somewhere, and holds fast to the days…

Willa Cather

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As promised, evening photos of our sojourn to Seattle – beautiful, a little blurry, and very chilly, but no rain!

We’re here!

After Etta’s.

So much neon!

Like candy canes.

For one of our favorite little friends.

Bookstore Bar.

Evening sculpture.

The name says it all.

The Harbor Steps.

Here’s the soundtrack.

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My friend Carolyn and I hosted a party and gift exchange for a group of our best girlfriends.  I came away with  an adorable flower brooch – just my style.  It was a fun evening of chatter, drinking (delicious cranberry punch), and, of course, eating.   I contributed artichoke dip (Bridget’s favorite!), cranberry pecan cookies with a white chocolate glaze, and the best mint filled sandwich cookies I’ve ever tasted.  EVER.  This is saying a lot.  I am very particular people!

This mess is totally worth it!

Mint Sandwich Cookies

- adapted from Martha Stewart Holiday Baking  2002

1 1/4 cups flour

3/4 cups cocoa powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup sugar

10 tablespoons butter

1 large egg

Peppermint Cream Filling

1 1/2 candy canes (six inch size)

1/2 cup butter, room temperature

1/2 cup vegetable shortening

3 cups powdered sugar

1 tablespoon vanilla

For the cookies

Preheat oven to 375.  Grease two baking sheets, set aside.

Into a medium bowl, sift together flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt; set aside.  In a separate bowl, cream together the sugar and butter until light and fluffy, about two minutes.  Add egg – beat to combine.  Slowly add the flour mixture, beating until dough is well combined.

Divide dough in two, so it is more manageable.  Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface, to about 1/4 inch thickness.  Cut with a 2″ round cutter and space about 1 1/2 inches apart on the greased baking sheet.

Transfer to oven and bake until cookies are firm, about 10-12 minutes, rotating baking sheets halfway through.  Cool cookies completely.

For the peppermint cream filling

Pulverize the candy cane until it is nearly all powder.  I kept it in its wrapper and whacked it with a hammer – satisfying!  Cream butter and shortening until well combined.  Gradually add the powdered sugar and pulverized peppermint, beating until light and fluffy.  Add the vanilla, and beat to combine.

Place cream filling in a pastry bag fitted with a coupler or a sandwich bag with the corner cut off, and pipe about 1 tablespoon filling onto the flat side of half the cookies.  Place remaining cookies on top, and gently press on each to squeeze the filling to the edges.  It’s a good idea to match up cookies with their best mate to avoid having uneven looking cookies.  Makes about 30.

Enjoy!

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I was certain the bright red Netflix envelope contained the final DVD of season two of Mad Men, so when I saw this film instead, I found myself a bit miffed.  Thankfully, I am rather pleased to say that I got over my pout in a jiffy.  This is one terrific movie!

Ralph, in many ways,  is a typical teenager.  He is a bit of an outcast, save his one friend Chester, frequently the butt of jokes and ill treatment by the boys at school, is mystified by girls, and despite knowing that he is committing a sin (venal or mortal?) he cannot help indulge in pleasures of the flesh (gulp!).  When his mother, suffering from a serious mystery illness, falls into a coma, Ralph finds himself at a crossroads. Not wanting to become an orphan (his father died in the war – presumably Korea, as it is 1954), Ralph is in dire need of a miracle.

After hearing a lecture on saints and miracles in religion class, Ralph decides he will perform one himself  and save his mother’s life by winning the Boston Marathon, despite the fact that he’s only just started to run (as punishment for a multitude of sins).  What ensues is a touching and, at times, hilarious account of his path to Boston.  A great story, full of wit, warmth, and humor – really quite fulfilling.  Five stars!

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Recognize that you are the truth.

Self reliance conquers any difficulty.

Recognize that the other person is you.

Share your strengths, not your weaknesses.

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