Stephanie says

A constant in my life, 12 years older than me, Helene's youngest brother, who has been right there for me through thick and thin.  Great guy.  At one point I had nine uncles.  Howard is the last one standing, always steadfast.  The kind of man who loves his sister and buys frilly stuff just for her, things I've inherited like French clocks and pearl handled manicure sets.  I'm thinking my brothers have been remiss in the gift department.  Hmmm.  You boys need to pony up for your wonderful sister.  Pearls are good. This is the uncle who thought he might be balding in his college days and came to our dinner table wearing weird green holistic cure stuff on his head.  To much ridicule.  Same uncle who bought seven or nine or whatever cashmere sweaters for some college girls.  Hmmm.  He's this exuberant man who brought his many, many girlfriends home to our house to make fudge.  Not good fudge for the record.  And when h...

My girl requested a Christmas goody package as she won't be home for the holiday this year. I made some pretzels dipped in white chocolate then dusted with crushed peppermint candy - they have a nice sweet-salty flavor.  And so easy! White Chocolate Dipped Pretzels 6 oz. white baking chocolate, broken into chunks 1 1/2 tbsp. light corn syrup 1 1/2 tbsp. butter 2 tsp. water About 50 miniature, bow-shaped pretzels or 25 lg. bow shaped pretzels In 1 quart microwave casserole, combine chocolate, syrup, butter and water. Microwave at medium (50% power) 2-4 minutes just until mixture can be stirred smooth. Dip pretzels into chocolate. Arrange on wire racks placed on waxed paper lined trays. Cool or refrigerate until set. Rewarm chocolate mixture if it becomes too stiff to dip.  Dust with  crushed peppermint hard candy . Last year SIL’s favorite was a variation of the following.   I was loathe to over-blend the dough which resulted in a cookie ...

Teresa phoned saying she was closing up early and stopping by my office in a few minutes to deliver my Christmas presents. Christmas Eve today.  Card in-hand, a photo of my holiday fireplace mantle decorated in sparkling red and warm yellow tones with a darling photo of sweet Henry on the reverse.  That was the extent of my preparation, (I deserve kudos for that really cool card.) My intent to bake and take a plate of spectacularly delicious cookies to her remained just that, an intention.  There was however, a beautiful variegated poinsettia plant sitting on my desk, a gift from a client.  A flash of inspiration:  re-gift!   I've got one at home, this is a short week, give this one to Teresa. Great idea. Teresa arrived and I gave her the card and plant.  As I opened my gifts, I noticed the forgotten gift card "Thank you Stephanie, United Methodist Church" just sticking out there, under a leaf, on a florist card display rod.  So annoyed ...

My big dog died.   Suddenly.   Out of nowhere.   Fit as a fiddle until he wasn’t.   Off his food Wednesday, dead on Friday.   I don’t know why.   That dog had a sense of humor.   He’d do anything for a laugh.   Pick up errant socks, glasses, newspaper, whatever -   make eye contact then take off chortling “catch me if you can,” all the while listening for my chuckle at which point his cropped tail wagging and rear section wiggling, he’d be doing his dog flirt.      He snored horribly, his cheeks filling with a breath then a slow “phhp, phhp, phhp,” of escaping air, cheeks moving in and out.   Big suck in of fresh air.   Repeat.   I’d laugh watching him sleep. A major personality, sweet and loving boy, total pain in the ass when I got on the phone talking and pacing, he'd herd me to the box of dog biscuits.  He had me well trained. It's awfully quiet around here without him. ...

Terry popped in yesterday saying his sister had invited the two of us for Christmas with their extended family.   That was a kind gesture on a couple levels:   sisterly solidarity toward her brother and a welcoming acceptance of me.   I was touched.   So today I get a phone call from his mother, (I do some work for her, it is a family business after all,) asking how my recent visit with baby Henry went.   I mentioned receiving new photos today and she asked if they were on Facebook.   No, in Dropbox, but it occurred to me (I am a bit dense) that she was making a friendly overture and is likely curious about the fat and much older woman who has her son’s heart.     There is just no accounting for taste. That makes me chuckle.

I've got total recall, (and if I can't actually remember it, I can make it up; a little humor...  For the most part, I remember it.)  My former husband and my daughter don't have this ability.  My husband once lost an entire day.  We were mid 20s then, in the peak of health, and he just flat out lost a day.  We had a rare and beautiful Austin Healy 3000 Mark 1, worth its weight in gold, built with British style, but typically the engineering sucked.  We were waiting for a part with great anticipation, delivered on that forgotten day.  Next night me and the hubby dined with his parents and hubby had no recollection of the car part being delivered.  It was just another day for him screwing in screws at his short lived job at the Terry Trailer Plant in LaGrande Oregon.  It was disconcerting to realize that he honestly had no recollection of a day in his life.  On the next day... Fast forward ten years and we've got a little girl, for whom...

My daughter cooked this for me on my recent trip to Flagstaff .  It was so good that I made it when I got home.  It is delicious.   Garbanzo Beans and Greens Substitute escarole or another hearty green like collards if you don't like kale . Serve with torn baguette bread to soak up all the tasty juices. Cooking Light JANUARY 2011 Yield: 4 servings Total: 45 Minutes Ingredients 2 center-cut bacon slices 1 cup chopped carrot 1/2 cup chopped onion 2 garlic cloves, minced 1 teaspoon paprika 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper 2 1/2 cups fat-free, lower-sodium chicken broth 1 cup water 2 (15-ounce) cans organic chickpeas (garbanzo beans), rinsed and drained 4 cups chopped fresh kale 1/2 cup plain 2% reduced-fat Greek yogurt 4 lemon wedges (optional) Preparation 1. Coo...

Middle of the night.  Let the dogs out.  Back in.  Through a haze of sleep my brain slowly registers a familiar odor, an awful taste builds in the back of  my throat.  I am awake now.  Damn it, they got skunked.   3:00 a.m.  washing dog bedding, sprinkling baking soda on the carpet, dousing Moose with peroxide. Remind me again why I have dogs.

Up at 2 a.m. to make the 5 a.m. flight, first stop on the way to Flagstaff.  Cocooned in my car in the dark on a dry and nearly empty freeway; my stream of consciousness did just that - streamed.  It was quite lovely. Later, sitting in an airport restaurant it occurs I could be enjoying a flaky, preservative-free croissant and freshly squeezed orange juice if only I were on a different continent.  But no, it's an Egg McMuffin at Pdx followed by a two hour layover. My personable Eugene seatmate directed most conversation to his traveling companion across the aisle. His buddy was a "you know" type, liberally sprinkling each and every sentence with that lazy language habit at least once. Often twice.  It stabbed my ear with every occurrence try as I might to tune him out.  Ya know? Breathe deeply. Practice tolerance. My Phoenix seatmate never spoke. Works for me. I discovered I'd pack earplugs that wonderfully blocked out the deeply penetrating voices of tw...

I went Chanterelle hunting over the weekend.  It'd been two weeks since deer season ended, the last time we'd checked, with none spotted in Terry's favored patch.  Since then we'd had a hard frost and rain.  Torrential rains actually.  Deciduous trees had dropped their leaves.  The road was blanketed in bright yellow alder and red maple; decaying leaf mold adding to the fragrance of damp moss and fir needles in the moist air.  I was instructed to watch for bright orange patches, large maple leaf size, as we languidly drove along. And sure enough, I spotted some.  Ah, the thrill of the hunt!   The mushrooms were at the very end of their short season; the few still intact were water logged, spongy from all the rain, and kind of slimy.  So no Chanterelles this season.  I'm good though as there are some in the freezer. I found this site that specialize in "wild-harvested, traditional and artisanal foods" from the wilds of the Mid West,...

I know, math nerd here.  It's a simple aid to quantify happiness in a myriad of relationships.  How much do you make me crazy?  16% of the time.  So conversely you make me happy 84% of the time.  Go figure.  And I know that I allow myself to be happy, or crazy, blah, blah, blah. It's not up to anyone but me.

I got a good sized pumpkin for $2, after Halloween of course.  I roasted it whole, such an easy method requiring a few slits for vent holes then roast until fork tender.  The end result was 12-cups of pureed pumpkin.  I decided to make pumpkin butter, it sounds very autumn-ish. I figured if crock pot apple butter was do-able, then so was crock pot pumpkin butter.  I browsed the internet and sure enough, there were many recipes and many cooking methods. I doubled the following recipe and have eight half-pints cooling on the counter.  I also have six-cups of puree cooling in the fridge waiting for my next inspiration.  Crock Pot Pumpkin Butter makes approximately 3 cups 4 cups pumpkin puree (fresh homemade puree from a 3 to 4 lb pumpkin or approximately 2 15oz cans) 1 cup raw honey or maple syrup 1/2 cup apple juice or apple cider 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, optional 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon g...

Just finished watching the HBO mini series.   I knew better; I read the book when published some years ago and my general impression was a seriously depressing story.   I got sucked in because the movie version starred Frances McDormand, who I admire greatly.   Go figure, the story hasn’t lightened in any measure in the retelling.   It slowly, slowly builds the dark gloom of depression.   Hand me a dull exacto knife now.   Suppressed emotions, mental illness, withheld love, misplaced affection, ungrateful children; it’s got it all in terms of doom and gloom.   The absolute clincher is the trip to the vet to put the aged family dog down (While my sweet Mooser is perched on the ottoman with his head on my lap, gazing at me in adoration as I stroke his paw.   Rip my heart out now.) It’ll probably take a couple days to regain my equanimity.  

My next door neighbor has a enormous Ponderosa Pine, a diseased tree clogging my gutters with spiny pine needles after every storm, measuring a couple hundred feet (and we all know that my head for this sort of detail is oh, so limited.  But I lost a tree in a wind storm that was something like 175' and this puppy was taller. So I'm sticking with 200 feet.)  I also mention this tree could easily topple right over my bedroom and kill me in my bed.  Not being dramatic or anything...  I do consider this when the wind roars! This lovely Saturday morning dawned; I drank coffee and decided I'd gotten up way too early.  I went back to bed and was enjoying a snuggle with Rosie whose enthusiastic tale wagging often destroys the peace.  This morning, however, it was a mechanical roar outside my bedroom.  And lots of very loud conversation.    It was loggers and the roar was revving chain saws. That tree was coming down.  I am a loggers dau...

I queued up at the hunting license station at the local market and purchased my first ever deer tag that states "2014 Resident Western Deer Rifle," as well as a hunting license.  I had a note in hand just in case it got confusing but the clerks were knowledgeable and encouraging about my first hunt. There is likely a state pamphlet detailing the various rules governing each species but since I'm with a life-long hunter, I didn't bother reading anything.  At some time on our first outing it occurred to me that we were hunting for stags, bucks, the male species.  Which effectively cut our odds by half.  I ran that observation by Terry, who looked questioningly at me but refrained from scoffing.   We spotted an inordinate number of does, to the point that I wondered if I'd be able to recognize a buck.  We peered through field glasses over hill and dale looking for a white-spotted nose with vertical spikes that would focus into a buck camouflaged into its s...

Fog bank on Bell Mountain Spotted a coyote here a few weeks back.  No deer though. Mushroom are flourishing on the forest floor Or just out in the road

I subscribed to Bon Appetit back in the late 1990s.  It was a treat each month to leaf through the magazine, (reading about food is almost as fun as eating it.  Almost.)  I tried many, many recipes and learned a lot about cooking in the process. I got thinking about one particular recipe, Cranberry-Orange Scones, and visualized searching my big stack of archived magazines, archived in the sense they're on a bookshelf, spines out, in the laundry room.  The scones were really good but that seemed excessive. So I Googled "Cranberry Orange Scone Bon Appetit" and the exact recipe I wanted was before my eyes in a nano second.  I love computers.  They are as good as I remember.  I baked half the batch and froze the other on a parchment lined cookie sheet, then carefully folded them still in parchment into a freezer bag.  I've baked one since in the toaster oven, same time and temperature, with favorable results.  ...

High winds resulted in outages between here and Elkton.  I had this from a completely unreliable source at the local market who claimed we'd be without power until tomorrow.  I came home and lit all the candles on the mantle and a fire in the fireplace, first time this year and I'm pretty sure I didn't have a single one last year.  It's fairly warm outside so it's more for a light source than heat.  It's getting dark now and I've been reading by flashlight.  I'm already bored.  I go in search of the propane lantern in the camping box but it has vanished.  Too dark now.  Tomorrow. So here I sit, gazing at the fire and listening the the snap and crackle of burning wood.  And also to long sibilant hisses when Moose breaks wind.  

Photo by Nature Mapping A flurry of birds around the bird feeder catch my eye this afternoon.  I've been waiting since July for them to discover this well-stocked feeder. The hawthorn tree is full of ripe, red berries and I actually identify a cedar waxwing, (cute little bandit face) feasting on them.  I'm learning to identify the birds, slowly.  I've got my binoculars and bird book at the breakfast table window with the best view of the feeder.  Amid much dive-bombing and pushing and shoving on the narrow feeder perches I managed to get the binocs in focus and actually identify a black capped chickadee.  Definitely a novice. A house Finch (per my guest expert) at my bird feeder

And you might rightly suspect this is yet another diversion on my long road of inactivity, which pretty much resulted in any and every piece of exercise equipment purchased eventually turned into a clothes hanger.  I am riding my latest stationery bike several times a week though, nothing hanging on it except dust.   I think a fitness tracker would be a great motivator when I am forced to recognize how infinitely little exercise I get on a daily basis.   I love gadgets and I really want one.  It needs to be one that recognizes bike riding.  I found one that does, and it's at the pricey end of the scale.  I tend to fantasize my whatever craze will result in the magic beans.  Yeah, me and Jack.  Sort of like my recent Yoga video purchase that took soooo long to get here.  I whined big time to whoever would listen and then, once it showed up, I did the routine once.  Yep.   Once.  I should emulate Teresa and just do it....

A title that doesn't do a bit of justice to this dish. I had left-over peppered beef tip roast (see, I do have great left-overs!) and just harvested Anaheim Green Chilis so a combination of the two was the order of the day.  I love, love chilis but dread the labor intensive task of charring them on my cruddy electric broiler, then skinning them . New and improved technique!  I trimmed the stem end, cut the pepper in half and deseeded, broiled them, then sweated them in a zip lock bag.  The skin came off in a single sheet on most and I didn't lose any substantial part of the pepper.  Huge improvement in prep time and yield. Today's approach is just adding whatever strikes my fancy to the pot, then measuring it as I go, so the end result is an actual recipe.  A written accounting for me just in case I cook up something incredibly fab!  9 ounces green chili peppers, prepared as above 12 ounces diced yellow onion 3/4 ounce diced garlic oil to saute o...

I've sighted a lone bull elk lately in a particular treed setting on my way to work.  It is only visible on the way.  I fancy myself an attentive observer which is total fiction because I can't recall exactly where that stand of trees is located on my way home, and we're talking a distance of approximately five miles.  Terry and I were out over the weekend, supposedly deer hunting, but neither of us mustered the energy to get out of bed early enough to actually have a remote chance of spotting a stag nibbling on grass in the cool of the morning.  It was hot and dry by the time we got out there and the animals had enough sense to be sleeping and keeping away from our fire power. We decided to reconnoiter potentially good sites and as we're driving along, I spotted that elk again.  I asked Terry if he'd noticed it?  No.  The sighting frequency was bugging me and I made a mental note to take a closer look on the way back. Which we did after a couple...

Annual obligatory hydrangea photo

Picture me as a deer hunter.  Yes, I'm going off into the woods, skulking a poor defenseless deer, (wearing my new hiking boots, ya just can't beat proper footwear.) maybe actually shooting a rifle - or not - depends on the whim of my trusted guide/mentor who plans to blood me.  Sounds kinda kinky.   Oooooh baby. This is a totally new experience for me.  My philosophy of "if you eat it, you should be able to kill it" stands unchallenged.  Stands untested for that matter.  A Styrofoam package in a perfectly chilled refrigerator is my favorite form of meat.  As yet. This may end with me as a total veg head.  I'll get back to ya.

Just a typical Monday until Terry stumbled past my office saying “Call an ambulance, I’ve got a puncture in my thigh.”   I called 911; all the while hearing commotion down the hall, no clue what is happening.   I’m in hyperdrive and everyone else is in slo-mo but eventually the ambulance has dispatched and I can hang up the phone.   I follow voices down the hall to the lunchroom and there Terry lies on the floor, head resting on a roll of paper towels; Rance has cut his left pant leg off at the thigh to check the damage, dark blood soaked into the remnant.   I think I might faint. He’s not bleeding out.   He looks a little panicked (or probably that’s me) so I stroke his forehead.   Which calms me – a bit.   I hear the ambulance crew at the front door and get them directed.   Whew.   He’s gonna be okay.     It’s off to the emergency room for us.   The wickedly sharp 30 inch wood splinter spit from a saw missed the ...

It strikes me that I have very tasty leftovers to repurpose, (not exactly the word I'm seeking but wafting aromas of warming fish and corn tortillas are clouding my brain.)  There's a lone hazelnut crusted halibut steak sitting in the fridge.  There's a packet of corn tortillas.  Fish tacos is the obvious answer tonight. I made salsa: Diced garlic Diced onion Diced tomato Diced avocado Diced pickled jalapenos Black beans, rinsed and drained Splash of olive oil Splash of blackberry vinegar Salt, pepper, cumin Heated the fish on the tortilla, added the salsa.  And it was excellent.  The fish was moist, the salsa flavorful, the tortilla crisp. Good job Steph. A very good salesperson (okay, being politically correct.)  A very good salesman blew through Coos County circa 1950 and sold a set of these pans to damn near every woman who'd graduated high school within four or five years.  I snagged this from my mother, who foolishly let me h...

Tyler and baby Henry are here for a visit so I’m enjoying having an appreciative diner in-house, (Henry is toothless and on a liquid diet.)   They do provide distraction to the detriment of my cooking however.   At least, I guess that’s what happened yesterday. I baked a batch of cookies first thing to accompany an almond pudding for dessert. I was congratulating myself for saving the last egg in the house for the pudding and entirely overlooked adding any sugar.   I discovered this after I’d cooked the pudding so I improvised by adding honey since it’s already liquid.   The dinner menu was Hazelnut-coated Halibut steaks on a bed of **grilled Romaine lettuce with a blackberry Gastrique sauce and a fresh Corn Salad.   Pretty straight forward cooking.   I allowed 45 minutes for the mesquite chips to achieve temperature in my Smoky Joe bbq-uer where I planned to grill corn-on-the-cob followed by the lettuce.       I got the ...