Still Recovering

 

Slowly getting back to normal. I am proud to say that the turkey has been deconstructed and bagged for future use, the carcass has been boiled for broth, more gravy has been made with the pan drippings, and,  for the first time EVER, the roasting pan has been washed and returned to the top of the refrigerator rather than being left in the outdoor grill to be discovered a month later.

It Was Like This

A dozen grown-ups . . .

Three little girls at the kids' table, plus four dogs. (The cats wisely stayed in the back of the house, probably under the bed.)

To fit twelve folks at one table required a great upheaval of furniture managed by Justin and John--sofa and love seat to the dining room  . . .

Other odds and ends redistributed throughout the house . . .

Dining table to the living room . . .

Supplemented by sawhorses and a big sheet of plywood.

                                And we're good to go. 

  It was a HUGE feast. Everyone brought something. Shrimp cocktail, charcuterie board, Bloody Marys, turkey, dressing, gravy, mushroom wellington, spanakopita, mashed potatoes, squash au gratin, green beans with yellow peppers, Brussels Sprouts, green salad, and butter flake rolls. (I never even put out the gelatin salad for lack of room--we'll enjoy it today.)

But wait, there's more-- frozen pumpkin chiffon pie with whipped cream and almond brittle, apple pie, pecan and chocolate chip pie, and a yellow cake with chocolate frosting and LOTS of sprinkles, made by Josie with the help of Grandma Nancy. Coffee and Port for those still standing,

It was a fine way to celebrate family and friends, in laws and outlaws. Two of our friends have done Thanksgiving with us since 1978. Two of the new faces at the table (and their two girls) were uprooted by the flood. And we all have much to be thankful for.

 

Celebrating Immigrants and Those Americans Who Helped Them

 

A Very Happy Thanksgiving to all! 

With the Ongoing Nightmare . . .

 Ever since the election and as each new and horrific policy/cabinet pick is announced, I find myself striving for normalcy and indulging in self-care.

Getting ready for Thanksgiving feels normal right down to my grandmother's gelatin salad. And of course there's all the everyday stuff--laundry, cooking, picking up Josie from school--that's blessedly normal.

What isn't normal is my inability to read new stuff. I always have a book or two going as well as one on audio that I listen to before I fall asleep. And though I have a pile of interesting and unread books, I find myself reaching for old favorites--Calvin Trillin's Let's Eat, or Clementine in the Kitchen by Phineas Beck --both foodie books. Coincidently, I've been doing a lot of comfort food cooking--whatever it takes, hey?

As for my audio listens, I went to Jane Austen--Emma and then Pride and Prejudice, along with hours and hours of P.G. Wodehouse--a favorite since I was in my teens. 

Currently I'm listening to an excellent audio read of James, by Perceval Everett. I read it some time ago but decided I'd like to hear how the narrator dealt with the various dialects --very well, in my opinion.

Continuing with the self-care, I'm reading headlines but often skipping the articles. And trying to concentrate on the good things in life.

I want to figure out what I can do to oppose the disaster on the horizon--but for the life of me I don't know what I, at my age, can do.  

It may be that maintaining a bit of normalcy is it.  

New Calfies!!!

 Last week brought us two new calves one day, a third the next, and, sadly, a still born on the next. It was a breech (hind feet first) presentation and things went wrong--a sad lesson for Josie about farm life.

But she dealt with it and is delighted with the three new heifers whom she has named Goldie, Luna, and Silky.

I could only get a picture of one as the others were out of range.

 But I did get a picture of this hardy little rose still blooming in our dooryard. It was a gift back in '76 or '77 from the lady whose farm this was. She propagated it by cutting a slip from her rose, sticking it in the ground and covering it with a glass jar.  And it's still going strong. 

                                                

Thanksgiving Preparations

Thanksgiving preparations are underway, beginning with pots of magnolia leaves inside and out. (I planted that magnolia maybe thirty years ago and it's been a standby for this sort of thing.

I've made two pumpkin chiffon pies. They're in the freezer awaiting fresh whipped cream and almond brittle on the big day. I've also made my grandmother's cranberry, celery, pecan gelatin salad. The younger folk tend to scorn jiggly 'salads' but John and I love the clean refreshing taste late on Thanksgiving Day.

More cooking and cleaning to come . . .

 

Another Widower?

 

Anyone else notice that the Orange One's pick for Secretary of Defense looks like one of those guys (they're always widowers) who want to be your friend on Facebook? 

Snow Day

First thing, the very brief barefoot walk in the first snow to ensure good health in the coming year. I'd walk farther because it really feels good on my feet, but I'm terrified of slipping, falling, breaking a hip or something, and then having to explain to the folks in the ER that I was doing it for my health.

It was a beautiful snow.

School was closed and Josie spent the day with me.

After the usual pancakes, I pretty much left Josie to do what she wanted. She's much more self-directed these days and it's always interesting to see what she does. She started by making a bunch of cards.

There will be writing on the inside. She had me write out MERRY CHRISTMAS for her to go by.

When she'd had enough of art, she brought in a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals and set up various elaborate games, one of which was sliding them down the bannisters into a pile of throw pillows.

Then she read to her gang--from a really pretty advanced book.

Lot of big words didn't slow her down. I feel like she's well on her way a a reader.

More cards made, some work in a workbook, a few games of Go Fish, and more time on her tablet than I like, but it was a snow day, and I was really pleased with all she did on her own.

 She wound up the day with leaping and bounding around in some sort of martial arts maneuvers and then sitting on a cushion and meditating for about fifteen minutes.

She is really growing up.

 

Final Things

What more perfect occupation for a dreary November day with snow in the offing than updating our folder of Important Information for our survivors?

I put this compilation together about seven years ago and, unsurprisingly, a good bit of the important info has changed or is no longer important. 

All this in hopes that it won't be needed for a good while and that I'll need to update it at some time down the road.

The relevance was driven home by an email to let me know that an old and dear friend on the other side of the country is nearing her end, gracefully and gallantly as was always her wont. 

Compounding the somber mood is that I'm currently listening to Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go--beautifully written and read but not exactly cheerful.

We're none of us getting out of this alive. 

 

Change of Weather Coming

 

An Old Debt Repaid

On Monday Josie asked if 'we' could make god's eyes as Christmas ornaments for the classroom tree and presents for her classmates.  Her job appeared to be putting initials of each recipient on popsicle sticks and picking out the colors for the first two.  

I'd tried earlier to teach her how to make these, but the yarn proved slippery, and the super glue needed to finish the work off was tricky and messy, and she only got frustrated. I made two with her choosing the yarn but realized that it would be better just to devote my time on Tuesday to listening to Pride and Prejudice and making the rest of the needed ornaments.

When I was in Junior High Home Ec., I had a home project which was to sew a muu-muu--which I did with quite a bit of help from my grandmother and her treadle machine. In fact, I rather suspect that she did most of the work.

We got an A on the project. And now, I feel, I've done my grandmotherly part on Josie's project.

 

The Last Rose?

 

Untended, unfertilized, but never unappreciated, this rose down in the garden blooms on . . . As may we all.

Back At It

                                                                         

With Thanksgiving looming, I'm trying to take care of some long-postponed deep cleaning'. Baseboards and the unexplored areas of the kitchen, including the wodge of printed out or torn out recipes-- some that have become staples like the quick and easy mushroom pasta we had last night, or the very excellent coleslaw recipe, or the salmon/citrus slaw that is a summertime favorite. 

All I have to do is to winnow through this mess, organize it, and save the good ones.

As I work, I listen to classic P.G. Wodehouse--Jeeves and Wooster and the redoubtable Psmith. It's a good way to keep my mind off politics and the looming apocalypse.

Moon Bathing

 

Just a few moments are good for the soul. 

Long Gone

During these fraught times, I find that one way of turning off the mental doom-scrolling is to work on a piece with lots of detail. I don't know why I find these old filling stations and country stores so appealing, but I do.

The one below is from a year ago--and of a different place, despite some similarities. 

                                                         

Just Wondering . . .

 Thinking of JD Vance's comments about childless cat ladies with no stake in the future having no place in government, I am compelled to ask---What about those whose religion tells them this world is only their temporary home, so climate change doesn't matter? Those who look forward to an apocalyptic war in the middle east that will usher in the End Times? Those who count on thoughts and prayers to do the heavy lifting?

Just wondering . . .

Dogs Just Wanna Have Fun

They don't reel with each new announcement of the coming administrations plans to gut the government.

They don't wake up in the middle of the night, thinking about the Afghan women whose voices must not be heard in public. Or the Ukrainians, fighting for their homeland.

They don't worry about the fate of public education and public health.

                                                                                     

They don't worry about coming spate of pardons for the Jan. 6 rioters.

They don't envision a Cabinet made up of incompetents, chosen for amorality and absolute loyalty to the orange guy.

Dogs just wanna have fun.

What a Piece of Work Is Man

 

What a piece of work is man

How noble in reason

How infinite in faculties

In form and moving how express and admirable

In action how like an angel

In apprehension how like a god

The beauty of the world

The paragon of animals

I have of late

But wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth

This goodly frame

The earth seems to me a sterile promontory

This most excellent canopy

The air look you

This brave o'erhanging firmament

This majestical roof

Fretted with golden fire

Why it appears no other thing to me

Than a foul and pestilent congregation

Of vapors.

from Hamlet and the musical Hair--for some reason it's been running through my thoughts. Only now and then, when I read the news, which I'm doing less of these days.