Anglo Saxon Whattitudes?

I loves me a ham sandwich.   My favorite ham sandwiches are those that are cut on the diagonal, especially if they are packed in one of those triangle "sealed with plastic" boxes that you might get in an Amtrak dining car or any place that sells pre-made "fresh cut" sandwiches in England or the US (in England you do not "make" sandwiches, you "cut" them).

The reason the diagonal cut makes them taste best is due to this Tenniel illustration for chapter 7, "The Lion and the Unicorn" from Lewis Carroll's "Through The Looking Glass".  As soon as I realized that the messenger was handing the King a ham sandwich, I decided that a ham sandwich should always be cut this way.  For some reason, when I was a kid, I thought he was handing the King a slice of pizza or something.  I knew it could not be that, but that picture sure did not look any ham sandwich I had ever seen.  All the ham sandwiches I knew were either on rye or pumpernickel bread and cut straight across, never on an angle.

I still don't know how they got that ham sandwich to have that shape (it still does not resemble any ham sandwich I have ever seen) but I content myself to cut my ham sandwiches, no matter the shape of the bread, on the angle.  Then I can remember Alice, the White King and his messenger with the Anglo Saxon attitudes.  If you do not know what that means, don't feel bad.  Neither does anybody else.  For proof, google Alice Anglo Saxon Attitudes and see what you get.  Or just forget about it and re-read Through The Looking Glass.  It's worth it.

Quotable Quotes; in the category But How Many Does It Feed?

"Hors D'oeuvre:  A ham sandwich cut into forty pieces."
Jack Benny

Mollycoddle?

Last week the subject of soft boiled eggs came up. We agreed that there is something inherently comforting about eating them. I also find comfort in preparing them.

When I was a child my brothers and sisters and I all ate breakfast together before school. In younger days, mom made soft boiled eggs. We ate them over toast, which we crumbled into pieces in our bowl. We did not have egg cups (a friend has egg cups in her cupboard and says she uses them). Instead, the cooked egg was laid on the toast and it was up to us to crack it and scoop out the insides. In those days we probably buttered the toast as well.

As we got older mom left us on our own for breakfast, which by then consisted mainly of toast and cereal, although sometimes fried baloney or salami would find its way into the menu. The toaster would be placed on the dining room table along with cartons of milk and boxes of cereal (or actually bags of cereal since mom had a proclivity for buying generic puffed rice at the A&P - a false economy since few of us actually ate it).

I later learned of an implement called an egg coddler. This was a small ceramic cup with a metal screw on lid. China companies like Royal Worcester made these in patterns to match or complement their china designs.

I heard about and decided I needed to buy an egg coddler. Don't asks me why. I went to J. L. Hudson at the Oakland Mall and asked for an egg coddler. I wanted a bird or flower from the Worcester collection. All they had was a Peter Rabbit. It was made by Wedgewood. At that time Wedgewood owned the licensing privileges for Peter Rabbit and Beatrix Potter's illustrations.

I was a little dismayed that a Peter Rabbit egg coddler was the only one available to me - no other stores seemed to have them in stock at the time. But no matter, I bought the coddler and today it is one of my most prized possessions (I also have some by Wade, an Irish potter, and two floral Worcester bought at e-bay or le shoppe junque. A cursory search of e-bay reveals the Peter Rabbit cup is worth a fair amount of scratch).

The way an egg coddler works is this; butter the cup (or spray with vegetable spray) and crack an egg into it. Butter, salt and pepper may be added (I prefer to add these later). Screw on the lid and place in a pan of water. Bring to the boil and time your eggs. I like mine at just four minutes. The advantage of using the coddler is that the lid can be removed and if it's not done, you can replace the lid and pop it back into the boiling water for another half minute or so.

Coddlers are sized for one or two eggs. Mine are all "singles". I find that the Wade coddlers do not cook at the same rate as the others. Either the porcelain is a different thickness, or the ceramic lid makes a difference or there is some other force at play. No matter, I prefer the other cups anyway.

Soft boiled eggs require a different timing method. They cook faster since they are not sheltered by a thick layer of porcelain. If you want to soft boil eggs and have not done so before, try cooking three, removing one at three minutes, one at four and if necessary, one at 5 minutes. You should then know know long you like your eggs. Make a note and don't forget.

Place your soft boiled egg in an egg cup or just lay it on the toast which you have torn into pieces into your bowl. Crack the shell all around and scoop out the yolky egg. Sprinkle with a little salt and pepper and tuck in.

The disadvantage of an egg coddler is a somewhat oddly shaped "boiled" egg. No matter, you will scoop it onto your toast and smoosh it all up anyway so shape is of little importance. What is important is the comfy cozy feeling you will have eating your warm egg and toast with a spoon.

Find an egg coddler, or just soft boil your eggs, and feel like an English child breakfasting with your Nanny in the Nursery School Room. Be glad I did not instruct you to eat dripping toast for tea.

Quotable quotes; in the category Well At Least She Knows What She Means!

“This recipe is certainly silly. It says to separate the eggs, but it doesn’t say how far to separate them.” - Gracie Allen

Mystery Plant!

My plants at work always seem to flourish even as those at home wither and droop. That's no mystery, at work I have windows and sunshine and a schedule of watering and care. At home available windows look out on brick walls which block any hope of sunshine entering to nourish houseplants. Watering can be sporadic and cats contribute to the general malaise.

Consequently, I get comments at work on my green thumb and my healthy plants - to the extent that at my last job several co-workers asked me to nurse their failing plants back to health. One person finally just asked me to take over her plant - until it died, that is. Then she said I could have the pot and the dirt, if I wanted. I really did not want but I took it anyway and let it languish in a corner by the window. Imagine my surprise when months later, green shoots appeared, growing a few inches weekly, until they were tall and slender. Until I left that job, took the pot home and let them languish.

I brought the pot to my new job along with my other "office" plants. They love the Northwest window and the regular watering and feeding, spritzing in winter and occasional trims. I had no immediate plans for the unknown plant other than to let it sit in a corner of the window until needed.

Imagine my surprise when months later, I again noticed little green shoots. I noted their progress with weekly photos and sent them to friends to see if they knew what the plant might be. I kept sending photos and they guessed "it looks like a hosta" or "I think it's ginger". I knew it was not a hosta and I was pretty sure it was not ginger.


Week by week I watched it grow, wondering what it could be and why it spent so much time pretending to be dead, only to start all over again. I hoped this time I would not kill it, whatever it was. I christened it Junior Bonaparte and encouraged it with plant food and water. I thought it was in the orchid family (that's what the original owner thought) so I treated it like an orchid.

Today the mystery was solved. I came to work and prepared to water plants and was greeted by what was unmistakably a calla lily. Click on the pictures and see for yourself! I did a little reading and found that calla lilies are tropical and like moist soil. They go dormant after blooming and can be allowed to dry out, especially when grown in pots. Apparently I had been doing it right without knowing. Next time I won't worry and I'll hope they bloom again!

Quotable quotes; in the category You Knew I Had To Go There, Didn't You?

"The calla lilies are in bloom again."

Katherine Hepburn in the MGM film Stage Door.

ATCs Again

A while ago I posted about ATCs (artist trading cards). I have been making and trading cards for some time now and recently displayed some of my cards, along with other paper crafts, at the nearby University library (where I worked up until a few weeks ago).

I have to tell you it was a definite thrill to be asked to "show" my art. As a performer I am no stranger to the stage but as an artist, well, I am still quite the novice. My sister, who really is an artist, was encouraging and supportive. "Do it", she said. And since there is no arguing with her, I had to do it.

She gave me advice on how to set up my dispaly. I included some hand bound journals I had made as well as some origami cranes and folded paper stars. On her advice I also included some of the tools and materials I use in making the ATCs such as sciccors, paint, colored pencils, rubber stamps, cutting knife and other tools. She was right - they made an interesting display. It was a strange sensation to know people were coming to look at the things I had made. As I had seen others do, I left a blank book and a pen in case people wanted to leave comments. Some did, all favorable.

Most exciting was the day I dropped in to leave the book and saw someone actually looking at my display. We chatted a bit and she asked me to contact her about leading a workshop. She had an idea the cards would be a good way for her students to express themselves. She wanted to coordinate making the cards with a reading program. Sort of a book report in trading card form. Sounded good to me and I agreed to contact her!

The library likes to keep a display up most of the year. In March, during Women's History Month, they include a display of works by women. Maybe I can show some more of my creations next spring

Quoteable Quotes; in the category Sometimes I Think There's Nobody There!

"Art is when you hear a knocking from your soul - and you answer." Terri Guillemets

Hot Diggity-Dog!

Edited to add: Unfortunately, Bumpas closed a few months after posting this.

I am the queen of the cheap lunch. With the existence of the dollar menu at McDonald's, Burger King & Wendy's, I pride myself on being able to fashion a $2 lunch (sandwich & fries) almost anywhere. $3 if I decide to include a drink. Other places might be more challenging. The Korean grocery stores usually sell Kim Bop (think Korean Sushi rolls) for only $2, sometimes $3 or $3.50. 11 pieces of sushi roll for two bucks can't be beat. Chopsticks & soy sauce included. The school cafeteria was out - the burger alone was over three dollars and was usually pretty inedible anyway.

I am willing to spend a little more for dinner - say $3 to $3.50 for two hot dogs, fries and a drink or $3.50 to $4 for a cheeseburger, fries and drink at our local pizza/Italian Beef/Chicken & Ribs take out. If Bill & I are not too hungry we can get by on a dog and half an order of fries apiece. If we're extra hungry we get both, cut the burger in half and each have our own dog & fries. The only drawback is our local place has crummy soda - RC Cola, Sprite and bad lemonade.

Now I think I have found nirvana. I have outdone even myself for the cheap lunch. Last week Bill stopped at Bumpas Beef. This place opened near us a year or so ago. I tried their BBQ Pork sandwich. Bleech. A few shreds of stewed pork on a bland bun and only a trickle of tasteless BBQ sauce. Friends defended the place saying their burgers were "not bad". That's like saying Jack the Ripper was "an okay guy". Did I mention the prices were nowhere near the bargain levels I demanded?

But things change. Lately, there have been signs at Bumpas advertising a Hot Dogs & Fries for $1.99. Sounds like my two dollar lunch is back! No drink but if you have coke or squirt in the fridge, which you bought for about 50 cents a can at the grocery store, you're still on budget.

Last week Bill brought home a dog & fries for me. $1.99 bought a real Chicago hot dog with a snappy bite, in a soft steamed roll, and the requisite neon green relish. I also prefer onion and mustard. The french fries were hand cut and nicely cooked. A gourmet delight for two bucks and a trip around the corner.

Bill got himself the Foot Long. Anyone from Detroit is familiar with the foot long hot dog. Here they called it a "1 Foot" but lets not quibble about terms. Bill's dog was as good as mine, snappy casing, soft bun and all (Bill only likes mustard on his dog and neither of us are into the Chicago style dog which is usually dressed with tomato, pickle wedges, peppers, mustard, relish, onion and the ubiquitous celery salt). He pronounced it a quality dog and the fries a success (woe the place that sells Bill an undercooked french fry).

A week later we were out on a shopping spree at the Dollar store (can't figure out why they have things priced at $2.75 or $3.99 but whatever). On the way home Bill suggested stopping for a dog at Bumpas since we were both hungry and neither felt like cooking. I agreed.

$3.00 plus Chicago sales tax bought us a 1 Foot (Foot Long) hot dog and a big mess of fries (seems we got more fries by eating there than with our take-out). I finished about half the dog then Bill scraped off the offending relish and onion and ate the rest. We split the fries. Bill likes to dowse the whole pile with ketchup while I like to dip but we have learned to share. I asked the counter guy who told me the dogs weighed in at about 5.3 oz. each. Trivia buffs may be interested to know there is (or was) a cut-rate casino in Vegas that sold a 1 pound Foot Long. We saw it on Public TV. Not an attractive sight. 'Nuff said.

This was the best $3.00 dinner I ever ate. $1.50 each if you want to know the truth. And the cans of soda in the fridge at home promised a 50 cent "dessert" that could not be beat. If you are not a hot dog snob (Hot Doug's serves gourmet dogs made of goose, elk and other glamour meats and cooks their hand cut fries in duck fat) stop in at Bumpas for a dog & fries. Combo's are a little more expensive but come with a 20 oz. bottle of soda.

The place is decorated in standard Chicago Hot Dog Stand red & yellow and has been designed to look like a Taylor Street transplant. Black and white photos of Brando, Marilyn & Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn) are adorned with clever quips. A walk up window and outdoor seating are available in good weather, not that Chicago ever has any.

Quotable Quotes; in the category I've Never Been To The Ball Park But Bogey Wouldn't Lie!

"A hot dog at the ball park is better than a steak at the Ritz."
Humphrey Bogart

Sit alone and talk . . . and watch a hawk . . .

Bill saw hawks fledging. That means babies learning to fly. He was driving home and saw a strange looking bird sitting on a garbage can in an alley. As he got nearer the bird hopped onto the fence and Bill saw that it was a hawk. Then he realized it was a juvenile. Then he saw its brothers (or sisters) in a nearby tree. Being Bill, of course, he stopped to watch. He was rewarded by the sight of young hawklets (hawklings?) on their awkward early flights. He watched until he felt he could legitimately linger no longer. As he pulled away, he looked around and saw the neighbors across the street, sitting quietly in lawn chairs, enjoying the show. They silently acknowledged each other and their fascination with the raptors, and Bill drove home.

Quotable quotes; in the category Yes, I’m Sure That’s What I Saw!

“When the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.”
William Shakespeare: Hamlet

A Penny Found

I found another penny. This one was on my front porch and was caked with dried on mud. I rinsed it off while watering the flower pots. The date was 2003. That is the year I graduated with my Masters degree in Music.

I cannot really think of anything of great significance that happened in that year. Heck, isn't that enough?

Quotable Quotes; in the category Wait, you mean 18 years is not enough?

"Your schooling may be over, but remember that your education still continues." ~Author Unknown

Penny For My Thoughts

A few days ago I was walking with a friend when she found a penny and picked it up. She told me that when she finds a penny, she picks it up and looks at the date. She then reflects on that year and the things that had happened that had relevance to her life. Okay, whatever.

I was used to picking up pennies for good luck, and had even heard that if the penny was laying tail-side up, then picking it up could bring bad luck. Not that I believed in that much. A penny is a penny and worth just as much heads or tails up, so I generally pick up coins of any denomination. But this was the first time I heard about reflecting on the penny’s date of issue.

A few days later, I passed several pennies on the ground. I was in a hurry and there were a lot of people around so I did not stop to pick them up – but the next day, when I passed that spot, one of those pennies was still there. I picked it up and looked at the date. It was the year of my high-school graduation (we really don’t have to concern ourselves with the actual date, do we)?

I carried the penny for a few moments, reflecting on that year, before slipping it into my pocket. Graduation day was also the day of the choir picnic. We had spent the day at the beach, feasting on Kentucky Fried Chicken (nowadays they just call it KFC) and christening the choir director’s balding pate with soda-pop.

Of course, on the way home, the car I was driving (dad’s van, his pride and joy) broke down, stranding me and everyone driving with me. A long afternoon of guessing what was wrong, tow trucks, bent drive shafts and other headaches left me with the prospect of lengthy explanations to my dad, expensive car repairs and being late for graduation. My friend was hardly speaking to me because she wanted to wash, dry and set her hair for the event.

I took a shower when I got home and resigned myself to attending the ceremony with wet hair and a pair of cut off shorts that would not stay buttoned. At least I would have a robe over them for the ceremony. After that, I hardly cared.

When dad got home from work he looked at me, bewildered, and asked where the van was. I told him what had happened and where the car was, at a gas station 20 miles away from home. I fully expected to be blamed for the mishap and even to be expected to pay for the damage caused by the tow service. Instead dad floored me by merely saying “oh” and “I guess we’ll have to go pick it up tomorrow”.

That is when I finally broke down. Now that I knew there were to be no yelling or recrimination, I was able to let go. Dad watched for a moment then said “you need a drink” and went to prepare one for me (people of my age were legal at that time and in that place). It was my first sanctioned drink at home – a bourbon and water on the rocks. I am sure it helped.

Soon, my friend arrived in her dad’s red convertible (we knew exactly how to assign the chauffeur service, the right vehicle for the occasion) and arrived at the high-school in style, our hair air-dried and wind-blown. I remember little else about the ceremony except that my shorts would not stay buttoned and the principal mispronounced my name. Typical. There were a few other notable occasions that year – my first date with my now husband and a presidential election among them.

It was interesting to take that trip down memory lane, inspired by the date on a penny. I will keep an eye out for future coins and future remembrances. Maybe I’ll let you know about them, too.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Look What A Penny Can Do!

"To attract good fortune, spend a new penny on an old friend, share an old pleasure with a new friend and lift up the heart of a true friend by writing his name on the wings of a dragon."

proverb

Deer, Deer!

Imagine my surprise when I came out of church last Sunday to find two deer standing on the lawn near the walk.

There had been a congregational meeting that morning so nobody had left the church yet, except for a few members of the choir. Bill was waiting in the car for me and he had left a good 20 minutes earlier (I had to file some choir music and pull more for the upcoming Easter season) so when I left it was likely there had been little foot traffic to disturb them.

I knew deer had come into the neighborhood because I had seen their tracks in the snow on my way to choir practice a couple Thursday's ago, but I never expected to see them so close, in broad daylight, at 11 am on a Sunday morning.
I should explain I live in a densely populated area (Chicago, IL) and that one does not usually expect to see deer in a busy metropolis. But I also live near the forest preserves which serve as picnic areas and parks to area residents. There has been a thriving population of White Tailed Deer in the area for as long as we have lived there. But it is still a surprise for a "city girl" to come across a pair of deer only a few feet away.

We usually see then in the evening when we drive home past the forested area. They are usually in among the trees but sometimes we see them crossing the road or grazing in the yards of the houses along the road.

It had been quite cold in Chicago, and we have had snow on the ground for the past several weeks. I'm sure the deer in the area are having trouble finding enough to eat, prompting them to be a little bolder in their search for food. That's probably why they were willing to venture through this settled neighborhood during the day.

I stopped, surprised, and stared at the deer closest to me. He (she?) stared back and seemed a little affronted. Probably he (she? it?) expected me to keep walking and was taken aback when I stopped and stared.

After a moment he moved his head side to side (not sure if he was trying to see me or to see past me) and then stamped his front feet in the snow. I continued to stare (am I rude or what?) and he waved his head and stamped again.

His companion began to look uneasy as well so I moved slowly to the car hoping to call Bill's attention to the deer. Bill loves to see deer. Bill was dozing in the car. I pressed on the bumper to wake him and he seemed to nod to tell me he had seen them. But when I got in the car, he said he had not noticed them.

How can you not notice two full grown deer less than 10 feet from your car in broad daylight?

As I walked past, the deer retreated a few feet to stand between the two giant pine trees on the church lawn and stayed there until we drove away. We did not see any more deer on our way home that morning. I think the two I saw, so close, was enough!

Quotable Quotes; in the category There's No I In Team!

"They run like deer, jump like deer and think like deer."
Charles Barkley on the Portland Trail Blazers.

Look At The Orange Marmalade!

Citrus fruits are at their best right now and as usual, I bought too much. Clementines from the grocery store, grapefruits from the place in Texas where I buy pears and cheese for the in-laws for Christmas, something called "Honeybells" from a place in Florida that runs a half price special in the women's magazines every few years. The result is citrus that I have to use NOW or else throw it away, which is something I hate to do.

So I decided to make marmalade.

I love to make marmalade and I love to eat it. Marmalade was something I hated as a kid (I think it's a rule that kids have to hate it) unless it was the generic Smucker's brand that had too much sugar. Marmalade is basically a way to use the whole citrus fruit (including seeds) to make something bitter and sticky to spread on toasted English muffins. As an adult, I love it.

I have made marmalade from grapefruit, from oranges, from the can of Seville oranges you can buy at Le Store Expensive, from the calamondon oranges I got from a little tree that I bought at the grocery store. Twice I got about 6 little oranges from this tree (before it died) - enough to make a jar or two of delicious marmalade. I've even made marmalade from kumquats (the BEST)! This time, I made marmalade from the clementines that were not going to be nice to eat in a few days. The resulting spread is quite tasty.

I am a casual gourmet. I start out with great intentions and slice the fruit as thin as possible. After a while, though, I get a little careless and my slices are less exact, a little chunky, a little misshapen, but I figure the fruit is going to cook for a long time and the rinds will be tender, if chunky, so it really doesn't matter (ask me about the first marmalade I ever made, which found its way to my dad, who loved it).

I have a recipe that I always use. I may look at other recipes but I always return to this one. Mostly because I don't even have to look at the recipe to remember exactly how to make it. It's so easy I can write it down from memory. Making marmalade may look like a lot of work (it's a three day process) but the actual hands on time is only a few minutes a day, once you have sliced and measured all the fruit.

You may wish to process the finished marmalade in sterilized canning jars. Or you may wish to simply put the finished jars into the fridge where it will keep for quite a long while. Either way, you'll have a superior home made product that will be delicious on your morning toast or especially good on a toasted English muffin. And be sure to try it on a toasted bagel with a little cream cheese.

My Favorite Marmalade Recipe

Citrus fruit (use any fruit or any combination of oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit, tangerines, kumquats, Meyer lemons, Calamondons, etc).
Sugar and Water

Slice the fruit, peels and all, as thinly as possible. I usually cut it in half (quarters for the larger fruits) then slice across into thin strips. Place in a large measuring cup as you go and keep track of how much you have. Pull out the seeds and keep them on the side.

Place all the sliced fruit, pulp and juice, into a heavy pot at least twice as deep as the amount of fruit you have. You may place the seeds in a little bit of cheesecloth and tie it into a bundle and place that in the pot. Some recipes say the seeds add flavor and the cheesecloth makes it easy to retrieve them from the pot. They will be discarded later - or just trash them now if you don't want to bother.

Measure water equal to the amount of fruit you have and add it to the pot. Bring to a boil and boil about five minutes. Allow to cool, then cover the pot and place it in a cool place for 24 hours.

Next day, bring to a boil again and boil for 10 minutes. Again cool, cover and let stand in a cool place overnight.

Next day, measure the fruit again and add an equal amount of sugar (I usually skimp a bit on the sugar, adding maybe 3/4 cup sugar for each cup of fruit). Bring to a steady rolling boil and cook until it thickens and gels (or until it measures 220 f on a candy thermometer - 12 degrees above the boiling point of water).

Meanwhile, you will have washed your jars and lids and bands and kept the jars in hot water and simmered the lids and bands in a small saucepan of water, and prepared a canning kettle of water for processing.

Ladle the hot marmalade into the hot jars, wiping off the rim and topping with a lid and band. Place each jar in the canner and when the canner is full, process for 10 minutes, remove jars from the canner and allow to cool in a draft free place. Next day, check the seals and remove the bands. Your marmalade is suitable for gifting if you use a pretty jar and a fancy label.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Do You See What I See?

Q: What did the chick say when he saw an orange?
A: Look at the Orange Mama Laid!!!

Last time, I blogged about this picture and the black shoes. Now I am going to tell you about the coat.

Back in the day, this was popularly known as a "cotton candy coat". Do you remember them? They were very lightweight spring coats, always jacket length and always with wide sleeves and wide cuffs. They were made of an obnoxiously fluffy material not unlike the fleece we know and love today, but without any of the warmth and cuddle quality of today's fleece fabrics. Instead, this was scratchy and had no insulating quality. Not warm enough for cool spring days, too hot for warm spring days, the kind of garment that could only be worn one or two days in alternating years depending on the whims of the weather patterns.

All the girls wanted one.

We used to get boxes of "hand me downs" from friends of our parents. The dress I'm wearing in the picture was another hand me down, possibly from these very same people. They had a grown up adult daughter with the fabulous name of Kippy! Probably her name was really Katherine but who wouldn't rather be called Kippy?

Kippy was tiny, probably not much taller than five feet or so and probably no bigger than a size 6 (the equivalent of today's 2 or even 0). That's why we girls were able to wear her adult clothes, the simpler styles anyway. Mom probably had to hem some of them but at least we had something to wear, even if it might not fit just right or be a season or two out of style.

Kippy must have belonged to a country club or been married to a doctor or some other circumstance which required her to have expensive and glamorous clothes. We suspected her of shopping at Jacobson's in Detroit - not the more globally oriented Hudson's and certainly NOT Federal's or any of those department stores!

How else would she be able to pass down to us pink satin formals cut just like Jackie Kennedy's, or those amazing and wonderful clear acrylic see-through high heels? When we saw those in the box it was every dress-up girl for herself. Can you say Cinderella? And they fit ME!!!!! For a few weeks, anyway, until I had to admit defeat.

But that pink cotton candy coat was the creme de la creme! The magnum opus! The Piece de resistance! Too small for my older sister, too girlish for my mom, it could only be meant for me, and for one glorious spring I got to wear it. So it was a season or two past its prime, who didn't keep a coat and wear it for another year? (Look closely at the picture and you'll see it was too big - but wait another year? Not when I had a genuine fashion item within my grasp! A lifetime of hand me downs and catholic school uniforms made me hungry for any fad or fashion and I was not going to let this one pass me by!

Sadly, the coat came to an unfortunate end. A classmate, who shall remain nameless, fell under the spell of the "popular girls". You probably already know I was not nor was I ever to be a "popular girl". Not then. Not ever.

Funny thing was, this girl and I were friends. We were in scouts together. I went over to her house after school. We played together on the playground at recess (schools still had recess in those days).

But for some reason, the popular girls decided to cause some mischief. Probably they made up some story about something I had said about her or some such thing. Who knows really, all I remember is that suddenly and without any apparent reason, she and I were no longer friends.

One day, open warfare erupted on the playground. I cannot tell you how it started because I have forgotten, if I ever knew. All I know is that suddenly the popular girls were yelling at her to "get her" (meaning me) and then she was chasing me around the playground and throwing an orange from her lunch at me. Of course, I ran.

Although she missed, orange juice found its mark on the fluffy non-washable coat. And then she caught me. She ground both halves of that cut orange deep into the fabric of the back of my coat. Without even looking I knew the coat was ruined. And there was no chance there would ever be another. Even had my mother been willing to buy one, they were out of date and no longer available for sale.

Like air escaping from an popped balloon, like a dream fading in the waking moments of morning, like a gull wheeling on the horizon - - - okay, let's reel it in a little - the point is, that was the end of that fabulous episode in my life. Ground into a sticky, pulpy mess of orange and acrylic fiber. Gone, never to be recovered.

This was just one in a series of childhood disappointments - like the favorite nightgown, outgrown and worn to a tatter, the toy elephant that disappeared mysteriously (probably right at the time my mother decided I was ready to outgrow it), and countless other disappointments, I would get over it. I did get over it. Until a picture from the past arrived in the mail to remind me.

Quotable Quotes; in the category I Guess I Don't Have Either . . .

"Fashions fade, style is eternal."

Yves Saint Laurent

Free Food!

If you have never made soup from your Thanksgiving or Christmas turkey bones, you owe it to yourself to do it. I am an advocate of free food and when it is easy and delicious too, all the better.

The first time I saw this miracle was the year we had Thanksgiving dinner with a friend. As soon as we finished eating and had relaxed briefly, we cleared the table. She went into action, tearing all the meat off the bones and tossing the bones (along with any bits of fat or skin) into a large soup pot. Scrapings left in the roasting pan that did not make it into the gravy went in too, along with any juices from cooking the giblets or from the carving platter.

This was turned on to simmer for hours and eventually became a delicious turkey soup. I have been a convert ever since. One of the best soups I ever made was from the carcass of a turkey cooked on the grill and begged from the hostess, who was going to throw it away, from another Thanksgiving with friends. I have even brought home the carcass from Thanksgiving dinner at the in-laws for making soup without having first made a turkey. Free food!

I now make soup stock from any kind of bones including those from beef or pork roasts and chicken bones - either from chicken cooked at home or fried chicken from the take out place. Sometimes I save them in the freezer until I have a large potful, sometimes I just cook up what I have and then I have enough stock to make gravy or a sauce. Here is how I do it.

After removing all the meat from the bones, toss the bones into your largest pot (break some of them to fit, if you have to, with a meat cleaver or a meat tenderizer hammer). Also add any bits of fat or skin and scrape any juices or drippings from the pan or the platter. I also add things like onion skins and peelings from the scrubbed vegetables I might have cooked with the meal - anything except those from the cabbage family like broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, which will give the stock a strong, unpleasant flavor. The vegetable trimmings - everything from onion skins to carrot scrapings to celery trimmings - will add flavor and color to the stock.

Cover the stuff in the pot with water to cover, even filling it to within an inch of the brim. Add a few bay leaves and several pepper corns and turn the heat on to low. Allow the stock to simmer at the very lowest heat, hardly even shimmering. This will ensure a clear stock. Heavier boiling will cause it to be darker and cloudy. The low simmer extracts all the flavor and goodness from the bones. Allow it to cook several hours or all day long but leave enough time to cool it and to discard the bones and strain the stock.

Strain through cheesecloth lined colander for the clearest stock, and portion into tall narrow containers. The kind that Chinese take-out soup comes in. This allows the fat to congeal in a thicker layer that is easily removed. Chill the stock overnight in the fridge. If you plan to freeze it, remove the fat first. Otherwise, leave the fat layer on until you use the stock for soup or sauces.

I also save the fat for cooking things like hash brown, turkey hash or fried potatoes. It adds flavor and it's free! The stock and the fat will keep a day or two in the fridge and much longer in the freezer.

To make gravy, heat a couple tablespoons of the fat (or butter or olive oil) with an equal amount of flour over medium low heat. Cook, stirring with a whisk, for a minute or so. Add a cup or so of your stock, stirring with the whisk to avoid any lumps. Continue whisking and cooking until the gravy thickens and boils. Season with a little salt and pepper and dried herbs. You can also add a little milk for cream for a "country" gravy to serve over noodles, mashed potatoes or biscuits.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Talk Is Cheap!

"I live on good soup, not on fine words."

Moliere

O I Love Hash!

Anyone who watched Sesame Street In the early days (1970s PBS) will remember that each character had their own song - Kermit and "Being Green", Ernie and "Rubber Duckie" and the curmudgeonly Oscar The Grouch and "I Love Trash". To paraphrase Oscar, I Love Hash!

You can make hash out of anything - corned beef, roast beef, roast pork, ham, turkey, chicken or just vegetables even. Hash is a great way to use up leftover ingredients and have something warm and comforting to sustain you.

My mom used to make hash from the leftover roast beef that was too small to become a French dip sandwich (if there was not enough for hash, it went into a pot of soup). When mom made corned beef hash it was always for breakfast and always from a can. Roast beef hash was supper. I am not sure if dad liked or hated roast beef hash - he had a penchant for meat and potatoes but generally in their own separate and distinct places on the plate, not all mixed together, and he detested anything he called "slop".

We never had, for instance, creamed chipped beef on toast or chicken ala king - dishes my husband grew up on, loved, and craves even to this day. Unfortunately, I did not learn how to make these so they are not a part of my culinary repertoire. Consequently, he only gets them on rare occasions or when we eat at this mothers house. And since she does not generally cook this way any more, those occasions are becoming rarer and, I hope, more special.

But it seems to me roast beef and less often, turkey hash, were not so rare at home. We had roast beef quite often. Of course, it was bought on special, and keep in mind there was a lot of food in a good sized roast. Dinner for the family with leftovers for sandwiches, hash and soup at subsequent meals.

One of the best hash dishes I had was ham hash at a diner. Chunks of ham carved from the bone, potatoes and onions, crisped in the skillet or on the grill and served with the requisite ketchup. Delicious.

I make hash from anything, even leftover lunch meat. The routine is pretty much the same. Dice an onion and toss it in the pan with a little butter, olive oil or bacon grease if you have any. Dice up the leftover potatoes and other vegetables, or a raw potato if there are no leftovers. Finally, dice up the leftover meat and toss it in at the end to finish and heat through. Serve with or without a poached egg and toast and don't forget the ketchup.

If I am using a raw potato I will add it soon after the onion and cover the pan, giving it a stir every few minutes, and letting it cook about 15 minutes until the potato is cooked through. A leftover potato requires just enough time to get it hot and a little crispy before adding the meat.

Season with salt and pepper to taste and a little crushed red pepper flakes, if you like it spicy. A dash of Worcestershire or Tabasco is a good thing.

Enjoy your hash and know that meals like this can feed your soul as well as your tummy. Lets see if I can add a verse to Oscar's song - sing along with me!

I have an old skillet of leftover meat,
potatoes and onions that cannot be beat.
I'll cook it all up over plenty of heat.
I love it because it's hash!

Quotable Quotes; in the category But Gimme The Good Stuff!

"There is nothing worse for the health, or for the palate, than a poor hash, while a good hash is not only a favorite dish in most families, but an essential article of economy and convenience."

Catharine E. Beecher
'Miss Beecher’s Domestic Receipt-Book' (1846)

But What About Those Shoes?

I received this picture in the mail a few weeks ago. It was sent by a friend, tucked into a Christmas card even though it was September. On the envelope, with an arrow pointing to the picture of the shepherds, was written "not yet" and in the card was a message that she was packing to move and this was the only thing she could find in which to mail the picture.

If you go to my sister's blog, you will see the companion picture to this one. Mary is standing in profile, probably to show off the huge bow (no doubt the precursor to the 1980s butt-bow bridal gown). I hope you will agree that these photos epitomize the beauty and innocence of a major childhood event. As Mary said, "Jesus clearly loved us that day, you can tell because our socks aren’t all scrunched down in our shoes like they are in every single other picture that was ever taken of us."

Mary looks beautiful and innocent, as she should. I look like I am about to skin my knee. I think this is the only picture of me as a kid without a band-aid on my leg.

The picture was taken years and years ago in front of the friend's house, maybe by her mom or her dad. The occasion was my sister's first communion. Big sister like, I have my arm around her - either through a protective urge or, more likely, because the photographer told me to!

Click on the picture and enlarge it. I want you to see the beatific expressions on our faces. And the fact that our socks are not all scrunched and falling down. And the fact that I am wearing black shoes.

They are probably not the same shoes I wore for my own first communion two years earlier. As I recall my feet grew rapidly and a few years after this picture was taken I was probably wearing my mom's shoes.

I did wear black shoes at my first communion (see how I make this all about me?) and I suffered because of it. One of my darling little classmates had told me that my black shoes were a sign that my soul was not pure. Of course, I accepted this as gospel. Even though my mother told me my classmate was wrong, I still walked up the communion aisle with a wormy feeling in my tummy, hoping God could not see my black shoes. Luckily they were not black patent leather - that would have been a whole other ball of wax.

Take a good look at the picture. I'll tell you about that coat another time!

Quotable Quotes; in the category This Is What I Should Have Told Her!

“A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes.”
Mark Twain

It's Almost Like Famous!

I occasionally clean out my "cookies" and perform other routine maintenance on my computer. Then I have to google everything because it's no longer stored in my web browser memory banks. Last time I did this, I had to google my blog and to my surprise, I found returns to sites other than my own blog. People had actually blogged about my blog in their own blog posts! Unbelievable!

It was a strange feeling to know that others had not only read my blog but had posted links to it in their blog posts. I felt suddenly revealed and vulnerable. But after reading the blog posts, I felt really, really good. Somebody had found something in my writing that was worthy of commenting on and passing on to others.

This particular post was about the pink turnip pickles from a few posts back. And there were comments about the recipe and the success others had with it. Great feeling!

I contacted the blogger, thanked her for linking to my posting and asked if I could link to her blog. If you look in my blog headings for You May Also Like . . . , you will notice a new link to this blog, the one that highlighted the pickle recipe. I hope you will follow the link to wherever it may take you. I guarantee if you keep going, you will find a lot more than pickled turnips.

Quotable Quotes; in the category I Thought There Was More To It Than This!
“It is strange to be known so universally and yet to be so lonely.”

Albert Einstein

This Is Just Too Easy!

I am morally opposed to most "convenience" food products. Things like Spam, Rice-a-roni, instant ramen noodles and, most especially, Hamburger Helper. The problem with many of these "convenience" foods is that they are more expensive than they are convenient, and they contain more sodium and chemicals than they do food and nutrition.

Then there are the REALLY convenient foods. Shelf stable TV dinners, individual servings of soup, stew, and other things that used to come in a can or live in the freezer. I don't like these because of the extraneous packaging and extra pollution they cause, not to mention they usually taste like $#!+, at least to me.

But there are some convenience foods I cannot do without. Namely, potato chips, spaghetti sauce and frozen puff pastry.

Don't think potato chips are a convenience food? You don't know Oprah, do you? A bag of chips and a stiff martini contain all the major food groups (salt, grease, cold, wet) with a double helping of vegetables. Hey, potatoes are a vegetable, and so are olives. If they are pimento stuffed olives, that's another helping of vegetables. And if they are blue cheese stuffed, you now have your dairy. I am telling you, this is a balanced meal.

Spaghetti sauce, what can I tell you. I used to use Ragu. Then I started making it from scratch. Now I use one of those "fancy" brands, sometimes adding cooked ground beef or Italian sausage. I use it on pizza, on pasta, in lasagna and in making stuffed peppers and other recipes. Yeah, it probably has too much sodium but you are talking to someone who eats potato chips for dinner. Salt is a dietary requirement for me.

That brings me to the frozen puff pastry. You need to get to know this secret ingredient. There is practically no end to what you can make - savory, sweet, and everything in between. And if you have never thought about how this product is made from scratch, all I can say is DON'T!

First you have to make the dough. Then you wrap it around a block of cold butter. Whack it for a while with a rolling pin. When it's sort of flat you start folding it, like a letter, and rolling it, again and again and again. Eventually you end up with a thin sheet of dough that is actually infinitesimal layers of dough and butter. When it bakes, the liquid in the butter heats up and expands, causing the layers to separate and the dough to puff up. Then the liquid evaporates, leaving behind shatteringly flaky layers of buttery pastry. Mmmmmm!

What can you make with this miracle food? Anything! Topping for pot pie; turnovers; cheese puffs; angel cookies (I can't remember the real name - some people call them elephant ears) just to name a few. My favorite is a fruit tart. Couldn't be easier and boy is it tasty! Another one of those "too easy" recipes. Don't blink or you'll miss it.

Place the pastry, tightly wrapped, in the refrigerator to thaw for a day or two. Don't try to hurry this step along. The pastry is going to crack anyway but the longer it takes to thaw, the easier it is to work with. Re-wrap the other piece (usually comes two to a box) and return it to the freezer.

Peel and slice an apple. Or a pear. Or two. Use any fruit you like. Pitted cherries, sliced peaches or nectarines, plums or apricots. Whatever you like, have on hand, or don't want to eat raw.

Unfold the pastry and roll gently on a lightly floured board. If you are fussy you can trim the edges to be square and neat again. This is supposed to make it puff better. Or just leave it as is. You may also have to sort of pinch the creases back together where they broke apart. This area won't rise much but it will be okay.

For individual tarts, cut into equal size pieces about four or six inches square. For family style just leave it whole. Take a sharp paring knife and score the edge of the pastry all around, making about 1/2 to 3/4 inch border. Transfer to a baking sheet. It's best to line the sheet with baking parchment. Don't scoff, you'll be glad later when you don't have anything to clean up.

Now lay your fruit slices all over the pastry, layering them or overlapping them or just jumbling them all over. Be as neat or as messy as you like. Take a spoonful or so of sugar and sprinkle it all over the fruit and the edges of the pastry. Likewise a little ground cinnamon, nutmeg, mace or cloves, whatever you prefer or have on hand.

Pop the tart(s) into a preheated 400 degree oven and bake about 15 minutes or so. The pastry will puff dramatically around the edges, the fruit will cook and the juices and sugar will make their own "sauce". But don't let that deter you from serving the tarts with a dollop of whipped cream.

Luckily, the pastry sheets are kind of small so this makes just enough dessert for two for a day or two, or a nice presentation to take with you to a brunch or your book club meeting. I kid you not, they will think you bought this at Le Patisserie Expensive or that you are a Cordon Bleu chef.

Make this often, using the sheet of pastry left in the freezer. Once you open the package, you don't want to keep this around for too long. Besides, you need the fiber.

Quotable Quotes; in the category What The Heck Is A Runcible Spoon?

And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart,
And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart.

Edward Lear

Hawk Sighting

Yesterday Bill and I went to his favorite store for big & tall jeans and shirts to see if I could find a hooded zipper sweatshirt. They did not have any that I liked (and I secretly don't really want one anyway, I guess) so we left.

This shop is located in a place that is pretty easy to get to, but quite a challenge to get home, as are many places in Chicago. We turned the corner and there in the middle of the block was a red tailed hawk plucking its catch - a pigeon - in preparation for its Sunday meal.

Bill and I see hawks when driving on the expressway and we have seen a variety of wildlife in our little urban wilderness - deer, skunks, opossums, raccoons, chipmunks and yes, even hawks. But this is the first time we have seen one in somebodies front yard!

Earlier this spring Bill watched a hawk building the beginnings of its aerie in the top of a tall tree on someones yard, but the nest was never occupied and he never saw the raptor after the initial sighting.

This bird was apparently at ease and intent on its pending supper, in spite of a row of cars trundling up the street past its dining spot. We resisted the urge to go "around the corner" since in reality it would mean going around several corners, and contented ourselves with this rare and rewarding sighting.

So I didn't get a sweatshirt - I got something better, a happy memory!

Quotable Quotes; in the category I'm Sorry, I Guess I Wasn't Paying Attention.

“The bird hunting a locust is unaware of the hawk hunting him”

Old Proverb

Patches

Once again, the recent postings about Chris have resurrected yet another memory - patchwork quilts.

Sometime around fourth grade, Chris and her sisters invited friends over to her grandmother's house in Ferndale after school for quilting "bees". We would learn to piece patchwork quilts, have an after school snack and a good time, and make new friends.

Actually, the most fun was hearing Chris' grandmother ream out one of the girls for cutting her material in mid-air instead of laying it down on the table. She cut crooked and wasted fabric. A big no-no in the thrift centered world of patchwork quilts.

Chris' grandmother would pick us up in her car (a sedan, not the requisite station wagon that everybody else drove) and drive us to her house. Down to the basement we went to learn to draw and cut out our four-inch-square cardboard template; how to trace it onto fabric (placing it just so to get the greatest benefit from the design of the material and making sure not to waste any); how to stitch the patches together to create our four patch design (Cathy was making a nine-patch - a more advanced pattern that we novices were not yet ready to tackle).

There was some kind of snack of the cookies-and-juice variety and probably some form of gossip, although in the 1960s fourth graders were a bit less worldly than they seem today and we probably did not have a whole lot to gossip about. What was happening at the next Girl Scout meeting, who had a new pair of shoes, who had seen Sister Mary Cool Nun at the dime store the previous Saturday. Still, it made for an enjoyable afternoon, and there was the excitement of the ride home and the beautiful scraps of fabric from somebody else's scrap bag to tide us over until next week.

I don't think many of us ever finished a quilt. I know Chris has made countless quilts and her sister Cathy did as well. At least, I'm sure she finished the nine-patch, I'm not sure about any further progress.

I have made exactly five quilts in my lifetime, including the four-patch I started that year. I first sewed the whole thing together, but later learned that if I pieced out my meager stash of quilt blocks with solid fabric blocks, I would not only have enough for a bed size coverlet, I would have a more interesting design as well. I think I took it apart and finally put it together when I was around 18 years old - a mere nine years after its genesis.

That original quilt lived on my bed for years and went with me to Chicago when I married. Eventually, the backing fell apart and the stuffing disintegrated. I did not replace it but instead cut down an old blanket for a new lining, and added a new backing of fabric that I had purchased for another purpose, then decided I did not like. When that second generation also went the way of all quilts, the remainder became a sort of slip cover for the couch, then for the front porch glider and eventually a sort of de facto picnic blanket. I think we last used it as a moving pad some 14 years ago.

If you want to make a similar quilt, cut a pattern of stiff card four inches square. Using this pattern, cut two patches from solid color fabric, and two more from a coordinating or contrasting print. Mix and match your fabrics for the most whimsical look.

Sew a solid and a print square together with a 1/4 inch seam by hand or by machine. Repeat with the other two patches. Now sew these two together, flipping them so that the two solid squares are next to the two two print squares, with all four corners meeting in the center. Your finished block will be about seven inches square.

Once you have a supply of these "blocks" you can lay them out on the floor with space in between. Twist and turn them and move them around until you like the arrangement. Now, buy some material to coordinate or contrast with your quilt blocks. Chris usually favored small gingham check, the one with the 1/4 inch square checks. This fabric comes in many primary and pastel colors and makes a good background for your quilt.

Cut squares from the gingham the same size as your finished quilt blocks. You will need at least as many as you have pieced blocks. Once again, lay them out alternating the plain and the pieced blocks. Begin sewing the blocks together in strips, then sew the strips together until you have one solid piece. This is your quilt top.

Measure the top and purchase sufficient material for the back. Most material comes 44 inches wide. Your quilt top will be wider. You can sew a seam down the center, but it will look better if you have one 44 inch wide piece down the center, and cut another length of fabric in half, sewing the narrower pieces to each side of the center strip to make your quilt backing. The backing and the top must be the same size.

You will also need a quilt batt. These are sold in standard sizes for single or double beds. You may have to fudge a bit to get your quilt top and your batting the same size. If you trim the batting, you can use leftovers to make pillows, mini quilts, or for other craft projects.

Lay the backing down on the floor, face down. Lay the batting on top of this, then lay the top over all, face up. Line up all the edges and safety pin the whole thing together, all over. There should be a pin every 4 or 6 inches or so. You will need a lot of pins.

Now, thread a heavy darning needle with a length of knitting yarn or embroidery floss. You will want to use this doubled. In the center of every pieced block, where the four points come together, you want to take a double stitch with the needle. The needle goes in one corner and comes out another, then goes in and out the other two corners. Keep your stitches close. Leave a tail of yarn and tie in a double knot. Snip the yarn, leaving tails about 1 - 1/2 inches long.

Repeat this in the center of every pieced block and in the center of every plain block. Repeat also at the corner of every plain block. Eventually, you will have knots all over the quilt about 3 - 1/2 inches apart. This holds the whole thing together.

To be fair, this type of quilt is often called a knotted coverlet to differentiate from a quilt which has been quilted all over with millions of tiny, tiny stitches. I have a quilt I have been working on for 31 years - a wedding gift to my husband, Bill. The pattern is called "Nelson's Victory" and resembles a series of naval flags. It is named for Lord Nelson's battleship, The Victory. It was originally knotted, then I decide to quilt it about 15 years ago. So far, I have not been victorious.

To bind the edges, you can buy quilt binding or make it from strips of leftover fabric. Or you can simply fold the back of the quilt up over the top of the quilt and hem this down, using stout thread and firm stitches. Be sure to leave your backing a few inches larger than the top to allow extra for the hems.

Your quilt is finished, ready to place on the bed or on the wall, or folded over one of those cute little quilt racks at the foot of the bed. Be sure to make a label to sew on the back of your quilt. Or just embroider your name, the date, and the name of the person the quilt was made for on the back. This is important - it gives your quilt "provenance" so that when it shows up on Antiques Roadshow in a few years, they will know it is incredibly valuable and will appraise it for thousands of dollars.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Couldn't I Just Have Some Lemonade?

“When life gives you scraps make quilts” Anonymous

SPAM!

For some reason Mary and I were talking about spam. Probably because the spam blocker on my email has a "spam of the day" recipe. Unfortunately, they are pretty bad recipes and they recycle often - there are probably only about six or seven different recipes - but it's fun to mock them and it brings us together. What can I say.

Just to scare you, you can google many recipes for spam sushi, among others, and lots has been written about the peoples of the world who favor the taste of spam for reasons I will not divulge here. Spam was never a regular at our house. Either it was too expensive or my dad did not like it - seemingly the most common reasons food was or was not purchased by my family. But once in awhile we got to have a taste of it, and Chris often had a spam sandwich in her school lunch. IMHO, spam is nearly inedible unless heated in a skillet or, better, over a charcoal grill or campfire.

Years and years ago, I went camping with Chris and her dad. I think one of her younger sisters came too. It was the most amazing camping trip I've ever been on. Understand that we went camping every summer as a family from the time I was a toddler until I was almost through high school. Dad brought everything including the kitchen sink. A veteran scoutmaster, he was skilled at turning a campsite into a three bedroom suite complete with kitchen, dining room, lounge, and all without electricity or an RV.

On the trip with Chris, we brought next to nothing. A tent for the girls to sleep in, a little grill to put over the fire to cook on, a large spoon, fork, knife and can opener. Instead of a giant cooler and cabinets full of food, Chris' dad brought a grocery bag of goodies. He was amazing. He urged us to drink a whole can of Hi-C right off the bat so we would have a large "pot" to cook in and, later, to wash up the few utensils.

He placed an open can of Dinty Moore beef stew right on the fire grate to heat up, configuring an ingenious method of turning the hot can with the tongs and serving up with the big spoon. Did I mention there were potato chips and Hydrox cookies, delicacies unknown in my world? I told you everything was better at Chris' house.

Chris' dad slept in the car. To stay cool and keep out the bugs, he rigged some kind of mosquito netting into the windows and slept on the back seat of the station wagon (everyone we knew drove a station wagon in the 1960s. That was the law, I guess).

For breakfast the next morning, we had grilled spam sandwiches. The spam was sliced and laid on the grill to brown. Hot dog buns were set there too, to toast. We spread them with mustard and ate them just like that. The most succulent breakfast I ever had the pleasure of eating.

I thought Chris' dad was awesome, and I was floored that he was able to camp, have a great time and get everything done with the barest minimum of fuss, equipment and (need I mention) clean up! It was only years later, when I mentioned this trip-of-a-lifetime to Chris, that she exclaimed that it was the most horrible trip ever because her dad forgot to bring any of the camping gear.

Once again I was stunned. But I learned that not only beauty, but most things, are truly in the eye of the beholder!

Quotable Quotes; in the category I Know It's The Obvious Choice, But This Was All I Could Find

"Shut up! Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam." Monty Python's Flying Circus - the Spam Skit

Autumn Annual

Last year around this time we went to the Hesston Steam Museum, as we do every year, to ride the steam trains and enjoy the fall weather (there was none) the apple cider (there was none) and Joe Jackson's Fruit Stand (there was none).

The weather was in the 80s. Not bad in and of itself but not appropriate for a "crisp, fall day".

The cider shed was closed. It was closed the year before, too. There are other places to get cider but unfortunately the only cider you can get around here has been pasteurized AND costs about $5 a half gallon.

The cider shed presses the cider on the spot, charges $2.50 a gallon (maybe it's $3) and the cider is guaranteed to get "hard" in a couple days. Anybody who knows their cider knows that that's the whole point.

Joe Jackson's moved sometime in the past couple years. On the old site they are building a condo development called "The Cornerstone". Joe Jackson's was the farm market in New Buffalo, MI, that carried produce from local farmers. Apples, melons, squash, onions, potatoes, just about anything you could want. Louise was good for at least an hour, comparing the relative merits of carnival squash against delicata, ambercup against acorn, and did she need three bags of apples or four?

That's all in the past. The new Joe Jackson's is just not the same. It's farther up the road, well away from traffic and the parking lot has lost its chaotic dodge-em-cars charm.

We go to Hesston every year at this time. Several years ago we celebrated our 25th anniversary there with train rides, stops at the apple barn and the sausage shop, and dinner at Hannah's in New Buffalo. It was a great party.

Last year, only Bill's folks made the trip to join us. What the party lacked in numbers it made up for in grim humor. We rode the "ghost train" and took delight in making sure the wussy kids in our car were genuinely scared by the lame witches, ghosts, goblins and silly "scary" story told by the conductor as we chugged along.

But the creepy guy with the chain saw - - - THAT scared the kids, even the ones that were too big and too cool to be scared by ghost stories. I guess there's something about crackly autumn leaves and the smell of burning coal, the chug, smoke and hiss of a vintage steam locomotive, that really sets the mood for an insane lumberjack to emerge from an abandoned sawmill, chain saw growling, as he rushes at the passing train. I think some of the littler kids had to change their costumes before trick-or-treat.

We did not make it to Hesston this year. Beth asked me about it. Our friends were not able to go and Bill and I did not have the heart to go alone. As more of the "attractions" disappear, the disappointment increases. Maybe we'll have to find a new autumn destination - or maybe a year off will put new allure into the outing. We'll let you know next year whether we resume the annual tradition. Maybe you can join us.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Well That's The Way I Remember It!

"It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life." P.D. James