Happy New Year 2010

       2010      

Blue Moon 12/31/2009

The rarest of blue moons on New Year’s Eve will be seen
Thursday 12/31/2009.

Magic things happen when wishing on a blue moon

My Cat Contemplates

Mimi not only contemplates, she plots. I have come to the conclusion that she is capable of doing so even when she sleeps. Perhaps she fakes sleep to put me off guard because I notice she cocks an ear to catch the direction of sounds when she appears to be sleeping.  Her curiosity knows no bounds, but the inquisitiveness she exhibits usually takes the form of snooping.

Not being a natural born cat person, I am constantly amazed at the machinations’ of cat behavior. Sometimes Mimi is overtly crafty and if caught in some act, quickly pretends loving affection and tries to groom my skin and sniff my hands or face.

One of Mimi’s favorite games is finding the highest level in the apartment where she can sit as watch guard, or safely take a nap. She tests the waters, so to speak, and is clever in finding ways to attain her objective.

A few days ago I repositioned several pieces of furniture, mainly two chests of drawers. Neither had been used by Mimi in her games of mountain climbing since they are too high for her to jump on. The place the chests have been moved to now create the tantalizing possibility of her reaching the highest surface achieved to date in her nine lives.

She hasn’t yet determined that a leap from the window sill to the top of one chest can be achieved without misstep; consequently, she sits on the sill and calculates the distance. An object on top of the chest complicates the situation because she can’t see whether or not it stands where she would land if the leap was successful, thus, a conundrum.

It’s only a matter of time though before Mimi attempts the jump, since cat dilemmas are persistently studied until solutions are found.

Merry Christmas 2009

To the readers of my blog

May your day be merry,
May your day be bright,
And if you want snow,
May your day be white.

Mrs. B.

Seasons Greeting

O, gather me the rose, the rose,
While yet in flower we find it,
For summer smiles, but summer goes,
And winter waits behind it!

By William Ernest

Oh, 'tis a time most fit to see
How beautiful the dawn can be!

Wide, sparkling fields snow-vestured lie
Beneath a blue, unshadowed sky;
A glistening splendor crowns the woods
And bosky, whistling solitudes;
In hemlock glen and reedy mere
The tang of frost is sharp and clear;

By Lucy Maud Montgomery

The Twelve Days of Christmas

[Editor's Note: click to enlarge]

Christmas Trees I’ve Known

I’ve seen Christmas trees for as long as I can remember. My first recollection of Christmas trees and gifts was when I was between 3 and 4 years of age, sitting on the floor of a church looking at a tall, Christmas tree decorated with ornaments and lights while Santa distributed gifts.

My little sister, Adeline received doll dishes, I received a doll. I fervently believed Santa had made a mistake; Adeline should have gotten the doll, and I, the dishes. I knew how to have pretend tea parties, but Adeline did not because she was still a baby. I cried and whined for hours because my parents would not let me make the exchange.

When I was 5 years old, I counted down the days until Christmas and spent hours leafing thru the toy pages in the Sears catalog. I don’t remember a tree that year, but I remember the pretty butterfly on wheels my brother Mickey got. .

I was in the third grade when the family moved to Iowa Falls, Iowa. On Christmas Eve, Mom and Dad helped us hang our stockings and put out a plate of cookies for Santa, then it was off to bed. When we woke Christmas morning, there would be a magnificent tree, glowing with tinsel, ornaments and lights. Toys, wrapped and unwrapped were under the tree and each of our stockings was filled with Oranges, Brazil nuts, ribbon candy and English walnuts. I remember dessert being thin slices of fruit cake that had been made months before and ripened with Kentucky Bourbon.

When Adeline and I along with Mickey and Charles were a little older, we asked the folks to let us have the Christmas tree before Christmas. From that point on, we decorated a tree before December 25, sometimes a few days, sometimes a week before.

I loved the fragile ornaments. They were usually made in Germany and were not only colorful, but had lovely shapes. One rarely sees that kind today; most of the ornaments being plastic colored balls of varying sizes. There were times when we tried to make popcorn and cranberry strings for the tree, but the cranberries usually split and we could never make the popcorn strings long enough to please us. We often made paper chains, but we ALWAYS had ice cycle tinsel.

When I was 8 months pregnant, my husband sold Christmas trees in Redwood City. It was an adventure that happened on the spur of a moment when he read an ad in a newspaper about Oregon shipping Christmas trees to California for sale. With false bravado we gambled our savings of $200 and set up a lot on El Camino in Redwood City and hoped to make a profit, at least break even. Luck and timing was with us. Business was so brisk we had to order more trees and started flocking them for an extra fee. My brothers spent their school vacation helping my husband at the tree lot.

One Christmas, when my husband, baby son and I, along with my sister Esther and her husband, Vernon, lived at the Sky Ranch, on Kings Mountain in Redwood City, I made a model of Kings Mountain on the top of a kitchen table. I moved the table to a corner of the living room and decorated the tiny Sequoia trees around the tiny Sky Ranch.

Over the years Christmas trees came and went. Most of them fir trees, but occasionally a blue spruce was decorated. The fir trees were always bushier, but the fragrance of either added to the holiday festivities. I never decorated an aluminum tree, but they were popular for several years, and then faded from sight.

I once returned a Christmas tree to the lot and demanded an exchange. As I watched the helper nail the wooden stand on the tree I had purchased, I told him it was crooked but he said it would be fine. When I got it home I strung the lights and decorated it but had to turn it so it leaned against the wall in order to stand straight. It looked ok so I went about my house chores and suddenly I heard a crash. The tree had fallen down and decorations scattered all over the floor. I picked up the tree and set it more firmly against the wall and redecorated it. It crashed a second time, breaking many of the decorations. I was really annoyed, and rather than fixing it again, I removed the lights and any ornaments still on the tree and took it back to the lot. An exchange was made, setting the world right again, but I think I’m the only person who ever returned a Christmas tree.

When I lived in France, our French student friends came to help decorate our tree and insisted on candles even though that practice had long disappeared in the states because of fire hazard. With great caution, we lit the candles. The sight was quite enchanting and dramatic.

Plastic Christmas trees have been on the market for a long time, but tree farms offer genuine trees with ideal shapes for holding ornaments and a star at the top. For the last few years I have continued displaying the same 2 foot tall imitation table tree that came with charming tiny wooden ornaments and mini lights.

Winter Snow

The unusual snow fall in Houston brought back memories of snowy winters in Iowa. The degree of pleasure one experiences during a snow fall depends on the way the snow falls. It can float gently down in large flakes, slowly coating surfaces in white, or it can fall thick and steady, quickly deepening the coating of white on surfaces.

Snow can come with the gentlest of breezes or with gusty winds that take your breath away. It’s described as wet, dry or powder. It can be icy slick or sticky wet.

Frequent spells of snow in winter creates layers of new snow on top of old, accumulating in a thickness that often lasts until spring unless there is a ‘January Thaw’.

As children, snow never prevented us from walking to school or playing outdoors. The only time school was closed was during a blizzard. Sometimes the snow on the ground did not last long and it was always a delight to wake on Christmas morning to discover it had snowed during the night.

In day time, the whiteness of snow disguises familiar objects and creates a world apart from the lush green of summer; at night it glistens in moon light. It has been many years since I heard the crunch of snow underfoot as I walked thru deep snow with a crusted surface. What a delight to come into the house and feel the cozy warmth and smell the fragrant odors of cooking or baking from the kitchen after being out in the snow for any length of time.

In those long ago winter evenings the family’s activities were much different from those of most families today. We spent them listening to the radio, which brought news, music and radio stories into the house. As the family listened to Fibber McGee and Molly, Stories from the Black Lagoon or Jack Benny, we children often sat on the floor cracking black walnuts on a brick with a hammer. We ate as many as we saved for Mom to use in baking.

Regardless of whatever amusement we children were involved in, either Adeline or I would suggest hot chocolate. If Mom gave the OK, we made enough for refills which were excuses to double up on marshmallows.

Going to bed in winter meant climbing under the blankets and shivering while we curled up as small possible until our bodies warmed the sheets, then fell asleep in little cave spots among the blankets.

I saw the news video of heavy snow falling on the White House in Washington after it had passed Houston and reached the east coast. It was a Christmas card picture and reminded me of the layered digital photos one sees of animated snow in photos.

Remembering Our Country Christmas

[note: this story was written by my sister Esther]

My sister Marion Elizabeth and I have been trying to remember some of our Mother's recipes that were so very good. We always had great birthday cakes and her pies were the best. As much as we helped in the kitchen as she was making them, we did not really know all she put in the mixing bowl as she had us getting the sugar out and measuring it for her and the amount of flour she needed or the baking powder or soda required to make our favorite deserts for the evening meal.

It was when I was in high school that I wanted to learn her recipes, especially the ones I loved for her to make at Thanksgiving and Christmas time. I know she used the Heresy cocoa recipe on the box for Devils Food Cake. That was my favorite. Then she would put Seven Minute Frosting on top of the three layers she made and covered the top and sides with lots of shredded coconut to help keep her hands clean when she would cut it and serve it to the plate.

But it was the burnt sugar cake recipe I would love to have again. She did not have a recipe to go by; it seems she knew it by heart and did not need to write it down, so I never knew where she got that one from. It was a very good caramel tasting cake.

There are so many more that have been forgetten and that is a loss. When Marion Elizabeth and I would try to think back to those times, we both decided to write the ones we could in the cook book so our children would have the ones they might like to have in their files.

One time, my Mother and my sister Marion Elizabeth decided to see who could make the best lemon pie. They only had two judges: my Father and brother. Of course Dad had to say Mom’s was the best and our brother said he thought Mom’s had just a bit more lemon flavor to her pie, but that in his opinion they were both great tasting lemon pies. Since I was not there for the competition, when I came to visit they both made another set of pies so I could judge too. Mom did have a good pie. So did my sister but I had to say Mom could still cook.

I remember her mince meat pies. They were so good and so were her pumpkin pies which she served with real whip cream. She never made less than a half dozen pies and lots of different cakes. The cookies were also great at Christmas time. Her ginger bread boys and girls were one of my favorite. Mom made happy faces on her boys and girls.

Several days before Christmas, Mom would pop some popcorn. Everyone would sit around with threaded needles and string pop corn and red cranberries to make garlands to hang on the tree that Dad would bring home. We ate as much or more as we were stringing them. Marion had Jerry, Dick and me on the floor pasting together color paper rings to use as garlands also.

At the holiday time, a lot of our relatives would come to spend Christmas with us and bring their children. Relatives made the holiday seasons a lot nicer for me. Aunt Nettie had a brand new baby girl and she was a joy to hold and watch her babble trying to talk. She was adorable and Aunt Nettie let me watch her if I would not try to pick her up.

First thing Dad did when he brought the tree into the house was to string the lights around the tree. Marion and Adeline and Mickey put on the ornaments Mom and Dad had from past Christmases. With Mom’s cooking and the tree the house began to smell just like Christmas. There was cinnamon and cookies and hot chocolate with marshmallows.

And every Christmas Eve Dad would read the story of baby Jesus and tell us that we celebrated his birthday and we should all think of him at that time.

When it was time to go to bed, we would hang our stockings on the mantle. It was hard to think about going to sleep with so many different smells in the house. Cinnamon and nutmeg and a pine tree.

We all wanted it to snow on Christmas Day. Those were the best Christmases. There is nothing better than to get up and see the white snow all over the place. A winter land is so lovely and clean and a picture post card scene.

[editor's note: MrsB's Recipes Vol 1 can be found in the Download Section to the left]

Countrified

After receiving the key to the country house, we walked the three miles back to the train ‘stop’. As we rode the train back to Paris, we enthusiastically talked about the advantages of living in the country, yet still living near enough to Paris to enjoy all the city had to offer.

Over the next few days we told our friends of our plans to move to the country side and assured them they would be welcome visitors and that we would be coming into Paris often to see them. On the day we moved from Paris with our trunk and suitcases, we took the train to the nearest town to Marangis. From there we loaded a taxi with our luggage and rode the 20 or so miles to the house, arriving well before noon.

The house came with a bed in the downstairs bedroom, one in the upstairs room and a dining table and chairs in the large room off the kitchen. As I set about dusting and making beds with the linens we had purchased in Paris, my husband asked a neighbor about getting butane for the stove. At the time we received the key to the house, we had been told butane was available at the little store, but because of our imperfect French, we had not understood that we would have to lug it home with a wheelbarrow.

We were dismayed at the idea of pushing a wheelbarrow three miles to get a tank of butane, then pushing it three miles back, but it was either that or go without. The brick wall stove and oven had not been used for a long time. Never having had the experience using this kind of stove, we were reluctant to start.

Our neighbor was willing to loan his wheelbarrow and without further delay, my husband started down the road, but neither he nor I had any idea how long it would be before he returned. Many hours later he returned only to struggle and overcome the obstacle of connecting the tank to the stove with borrowed tools.

We began to adjust to the problem of keeping enough water from the well on hand for drinking and cooking and the several buckets of water needed in the bathroom for flushing the toilet.

The neighbors across the road were very helpful in telling us which farmer sold milk, chickens and eggs and which took in laundry. A truck made the rounds of the hamlet on a scheduled week day taking orders for meat and veggies which would be delivered his next trip and a bakery truck delivered breads once a week, also on a scheduled week day. Within a short walking distance from the house, a farmer sold cheese. Our little creek provided all the watercress one could use. In a short time, routines, which proved advantageous, developed, and we settled into county living as our French neighbors lived it.