Thanksgiving for Two

What I love about menu planning and cooking is the challenge. How do you plan dinner for out of town company when you might be working until 4:30 pm? How do you plan an elegant brunch by the pond? And here was my clincher, Thanksgiving Dinner for Two. For years we have shared turkey with Brad and Andrew, here at our house with our parents, and then, after our parents departed or could no longer make the long drive, out in Cambridge, which is the ultimate in elegance. It has always been such fun doing turkey with these two. The boys are so into this holiday with the decorating, the cooking, and the service of this annual feast. We will look forward to joining them again next year, but for this year, how would we manage with just the two of us, and with Bruce as my main and only helper, who is not a cooking afficionado?

My first puzzle was how to keep Bruce engaged in the process. He has been wanting to make a lobster bisque, which he orders at our favortie restaurants when it shows up on the menu. I found a recipe for Bruce to use, and frozen lobster pieces at Krogers which cost nearly as much as the turkey. Bruce took charge of lunch, which we served out on the sunporch with a glass of chardonnay.

What made this Thanksgiving unusual was retirement. I cleaned the house on Tuesday morning, shopped in the afternoon, then did a lot of prep on Wednesday. Also, we had plenty of garnishes still growing out in the garden, which is most unusual. We usually have a hard frost sometime in September which kills the parsley.

My plan was to forge ahead with the table service, so out came the silver, crystal, and finer china. Since there would be no extra hands for all the hand dishwashing, we kept the plates to a minimum. No salad plates nor bread and butter plates. We still had the glitz and the glamour, just not so much of it. Then for the menu - We wanted all the tradition of turkey, dressing, cranberries and sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. I added a gratin of brussel sprouts that could be thrown together once the turkey was out of the oven. Most everything was done the day ahead. In fact, Wednesday was much busier than Thursday. Gravy is always my nemesis. I start out with so much, but end up cooking it down to next to nothing. The gravy was divine, and Bruce reveled in not having to share with too many people.

Dressing flavoring in Mother's bowl. Brad's candied crabapples in jar on right.



The Host serves the Guest (1)



Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Lull before Thanksgiving

What a luxury it is to be home and be able to dibble and dabble around the house and camp. Yesterday I cleaned up all my mess in the garage and yard that I made during my garden frame project. My neighbor, Susan Case stopped by to see the frames (her husband Ken drilled the handles), and referred to them as lobster traps. Funny, that's my same first reaction as to what would work on the garden. So, lobster traps they are.  As I watched 'Dancing with the Stars' last night, I planned the first twig table during the commercials. Still have a few unknowns there, but at least we have a starting point when the bad weather hits.

Ah, Grace just hit the window screen in the office. A little tardy this morning, especially for a cold morning. Yesterday in the middle of the afternoon, I was putting the drill away in the basement, and noticed a shadow outside the basement window. As I moved in closer, I saw it was Grace, warming in the last rays of the sun against the brick, cement, and glass of the house. This is one of her favorite spots on a cold, sunny day. Of course, she had moved elsewhere before I made it upstairs to my camera.

Earlier in the day I had taken my camera outdoors to snap a few photos that I had been wanting to share with my friends and family. Having purchased a relatively flat, barren field, we are always amazed at our new layers color and pattern. I love it when the leaves drop, and we see the underlying sculpture of the trees.

Pyracantha berries in the foreground

Years ago I watched an Oprah show about 'spirit trees'. She reported that she goes out and talks to some of her very special trees. After that show I went out and identified several of our biggest trees, and then had Bruce make cutouts into the hedgerow so we could better access those trees. Suddenly, we paid more attention to the highlighted trees, which before had blended into the hedgerow. Below is our biggest oak, actually on Todd's property, and believe me, impossible to capture as a noteworthy tree in its entirety (makes it look very small and unremarkable). Our oaks hold onto their bronze leaves into the middle of winter.

Last night was clear and full moon. During the months of October through February, the moon rises directly in front of our house. On a clear night it is spectacular, something that cannot be observed in the suburbs due to the rooftops. Here the moon is just breaking the horizon of trees, which you can see at the bottom of the rising moon. Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Hoar Frost

Every morning at CC seems to be different and gorgeous. I thank the hens for giving me the opportunity to step outside early in the day to catch those sunrises, and on Thursday, beautiful hoar frost. I must admit that the showiest display of this phenomenon occurred years ago when I was driving down South. As day broke over northern Kentucky, I was treated to an outstanding display of hoar frost for several miles. An explanation of hoar frost can be found at the following website: http://www.weatheronline.co.uk/reports/wxfacts/Hoar-Frost.htm

I snapped a few photos of our meager but pretty display.

Tying Up Loose Ends

I am going to have to get over my procrastination problem and get moving. I was talking to grandson Grant last night, who asked me if I were working on his crocheted hat. Oh my, how I've been distracted with the outdoors. I explained to Grant that one needed to be outdoors when the weather permitted, but I really do waste a lot of time just gazing out the windows at our beautiful Camp Colegate. I don't always walk/round with purpose for aerobic benefit, but stroll and take it all in. I am just loving luxuriating in this fabulous fall.

Anyway, for those of you who can't live at Camp Colegate on a daily basis, here are some of the joys from this week. On my way to the hen house earlier in the week, I caught this rare, very clear sunrise. Something that did not exist in the suburbs.

I've included a snapshot of my amazing Christmas Cactus in earlier blogs. This is the week that this amazing plant exploded in a riot of lovely pink and red color. I was talking to my sister Annie in Florida this week, and my photo has inspired her to bring a Christmas Cactus into her plant mix. Of course, we will be seeing them in the big box stores floral displays from here on out through Christmas, but nothing surpasses the joy of watching the little red buds form and then over a few weeks develop into this showy display.

Yesterday I put the final touches on my Varmit Frame for the garden. I so wanted a wooden handle in the center, threaded with grapevine, to better maneuver the frame more easily in and out of the gardens. I had cut the perfect handle, smoothed the outer edges, but then could not drill it at all. Bruce's drill simply wasn't strong enough, and kept bouncing off the wood. Who would have thought that locust was so hard? So I called my neighbors, and after the midweek rains drove over to the Cases, exchanged a carton of eggs for Ken's efforts. He drilled this and another handle for frame number 2 in no time at all. I ran back home, threaded the handle with the grapevine and attached it to the center of the frame. I designed the frame to fit half the garden, as anything larger would be too cumbersome to work with. The marauders seem to ignore half a garden, and targeting mostly my beets, carrots, and lettuce. As I headed out to the garden, I worried that the frame had wobbled a little too much diagonally during construction, and would no longer fit the garden. As you can see, we have a perfect fit! And here comes Grace to my window. I've wondered where she's been.

Check out the handle

Varmit Frames for the Garden

MONDAY MORNING:  I'm referring to the garden frames that I'm going to construct with found objects. The purpose is to keep birds, rabbits, and deer from select rows of my culinary garden. The framing/fencing must keep varmits out, but be easy to place and remove, so that the gardener is not fenced from the garden. Why call this project varmit frames? When finished, they will be the size of varmit traps, all frame and space, similar to raccoon traps sold at TSC.

While grooming our trails this past weekend, I realized there were a number of saplings and grapevine we were tossing into the inner meadows that would be great for small projects such as varmit frames and twig furniture. I saved several pieces, and just now pulled down some grapevine out of some young walnut. The grapevine were coaxed into a galvanized tub of water to soften, and I'm enjoying a warmup of my coffee from this morning while I wait for the pliability to happen. I only wish I had been with Dad when he was working with grapevine. He did such a lovely job, crafting wreaths, Christmas trees, and cornucopias. I was five-hundred miles away, and one of several grateful recipients of his artistic gifts, but missed out on the process and technique.

I love working with found objects. There is a certain thrill that comes with locating something in the woods or elsewhere in the house that I can use for a newly discovered purpose. It's almost a child-like joy, which reminds me of my granddaughter, Anna Kate. You had better be prepared when taking her through a corn maze or an apple orchard. She stops every five seconds to pick up a found object, corn or apple, and carry it home. If only we could see those wheels spinning in that sweet little head of hers, and find out what she plans for her armload of goodies.

MONDAY AFTERNOON
Lessons Revisited: (1) It is very hard to work with bifocals. I work in the garage, which is relatively dark, but with the luxury of Dad's workbench and vice. Oh, how I wish we had better light in there, and everything I need to really evaluate is directly in the midline of my bifocal. (2) I can't hammer worth a flip. I'm using whatever nails I find in our inventory. I did learn from the Chicken Chateau project and am drilling the holes for the wood screws, which will hold the bottom frames together. Thank you Schemms for giving Bruce that power drill. We'd be helpless without it. I'm nailing the overhead grapevine hoops with small finish nails. (3) When doing woodworking, one needs to hammer and saw into a fixed product. Since this project is all frame, it is really hard to confine and stabilize. It will be even more of a challenge when I add the chicken wire. I'll be stapling that on, and need to find a way to restrain that frame. We learned all this before, working on the Chicken Chateau.

Lessons Learned: (1) This project works better with really straight, uniform pieces. I thought my wood was straight and uniform until I began to work with it. Of course there is that gradual taper to the top and twisting of the limbs. Therefore, this project requires a great deal of product and culminates with a lot of waste. I recall this phenomenon watching Pat Bennett create her gorgeous wedding flowers. They were knockout when she was all done, but the floor of her basement was strewn with three times as many stems, leaves, and flowers that were cut from the final selection. I am amazed with how much more wood and grapevine I'm needing. Although there is a bounty of natural product on this five acres, there is a limit. (2) It's really cold in the garage, even on a mild day. Shame on me. I have plenty of warm, outdoor gear. Also, one can never have enough old, worn out, loose, garments for grunge projects. When I finish up tomorrow, I'll be dressed for the activity.

Value of Project: This project will be so helpful in the garden, streamlining my work and protecting our produce. This project is also a dry run for the twig furniture. I don't really care how this looks, but I'm evaluating all the processes and challenges for the tables, which will have to be both solid and attractive.

TUESDAY MORNING: We have 24 hours of rain coming in this morning, so I ran out and fed and watered the hens, gathered my grapevine, brought the galvanized tub from the Bonfire Shed up to the house and added water and grapevine, and gathered twine and plastic coated wire from the Garden Shed. I'll finish my indoor chores and then hopefully finish late this morning.

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Oh my goodness, this has been a typical Colegate project, which historically takes 2 to 3 times as long as one anticipates. Working with wobbling tree limbs, corkscrew grapevine, and rusted chicken wire didn't help break the curse. It doesn't look like much, since it's mostly space, but this construction was a physical challenge. This project was quite the contortionl workout, too. I crawled under, into, and bent upside down hammering and stapling. I also made multiple trips to the Garden Shed, scrounging for more appropriate nails and pieces of chicken wire.

What I regretted but had to do was cut off the tendrils of the grapevine. There was no way I could stretch the chicken wire over the grapevine frame with the tendrils in place. I used the grapevine not for decorative purposes, but for the curve of the wood. Broke my heart. Nor could I drill the handle, a 5 inch piece of locust that I wanted to perhaps thread with grapevine. I'll take that over to Ken Case on Thursday or Friday, and he'll drill that for me with a heavier drill. Then I'll be done. I'll store the frame in the hedgerow opening by the garden. We'll see how it overwinters.



Varmit Frame for Garden



Last Day of Indian Summer

How strange to spend this Sunday morning in leisure. When I was working, I would often clean house on Sunday morning, while trying to catch a glimpse of  'Sunday Morning' on television. So glad those days are over. It's still early this AM, Bruce is snoozing, Grace has already announced her presence at my office window, and is now content on the heated back porch. I appreciate her routine. Makes the world so orderly and right. Nice to snuggle with her for a few brief moments before leaving her on the porch.

Yesterday Bruce and I tackled our Camp Colegate trails with some more major grooming. Last spring we had widened, really widened our pond trail. What we had realized over the years, despite all our mowing and trimming of the branches that stray in from the side, was that the 'walls' of the trail will grow up - looks nice - and then grow over. We eventually end up with trails that are enclosed in lovely, treed canopies. That sounds heavenly, but there is really no way for two short people maintain that growth that keeps on growing over their heads.  It seems odd that our flat, former field requires so much chain sawing, not to keep it clean, but to allow us free movement over our property.

This is only a problem with our 'vista' trails and 'service' trails. Vista trails lead the eye to a point of interest. George Washington had one at Mt. Vernon, leading down to the Potomac River. I believe he referred to this as his bowling green. Nevertheless, the vista trail should be somewhat grand. Even grander to the eye when cut, because it still will grow up and then over. There are simply some trails that should remain as open as possible, and not tunneled. The service roads obviously have to be maintained with enough opening to allow vehicles to travel without being scratched by raspberry and rose vines, which can really damage a nice paint job.

So we went to work on our short vista trail leading to Todd's pasture. While we were selecting, debating, trimming and cutting, I kept my eye out for saplings that could be used for future wood working projects. I've been frustrated the past few years with my culinary garden. I really micromanage those plantings and weeding, only to discover one morning that the rabbits or deer have munched away overnight. For the past two years we've secured those selected gardens with the green plastic fencing. Not too ugly, but oh, no! I'm then fenced out of my gardens. Every time I want to weed or harvest a little here, a little there, I have to unwrap the garden, work, then rewrap. Not fun for me, but my crop is protected. I kept thinking I needed a box of screen that was heavy enough to keep from being blown away, but light enough for me to lift and move easily.

As we were preparing to chainsaw, I realized that many of the young trees we were targeting would make great frames for my chicken wire. The only other puzzle was how to support the top of the boxes without making them too heavy. As we continued to work, I found the answer: grapevine. Oh my goodness, are we ever our parents' children. I now have a plan for my frames, even figured out how I might make handles for them. And that sounds like another chapter in our chronicles.

Another project we've been contemplating is making twig furniture. I had been browsing some of my catalogues that came in the mail before I tossed them, and marveled at the twig furniture tables. Twig chairs are much too uncomfortable to sit in, but twig tables seem very useful. Wouldn't those be neat at Bonfire instead of the white plastic tables (I always want to sit with one near my chair, so nice to rest your drink or plate), or better yet, down South on a big porch overlooking the woods? So I targeted some saplings for that purpose, tagged them, and located some more grapevine. Ah, winter projects just waiting for the perfect weekend. I love to have something to look forward to in the winter: peanut brittle, twig furniture, and chili. Makes the winter fly.


Vista Trail to Todd's Pasture
The young trees are cut, but were already closing in



Service Road from Lane to Bonfire
Bruce has done the widening on the left

Grapevine marked with blue string

Saplings stripped and ready for garden frames

 We took time out in the afternoon to head to Landen for a late lunch and a movie. Bravos served a fabulous Mah iMahi over a bed of romaine, roasted fennel and carrots in a rich broth, garnished with grape tomato halves. There was some sort of cheese/cream sauce sandwiched in the middle there too. Wonderful. We watched 'Social Network' which was great, then headed home in the dark. I was concerned, as Bruce had deer hit last week on his way to work in the dark. We spied a deer as we headed down into Clarksville, then, as we pulled into our lane, another deer ambline across our field to the Bakers'. I am so greatful that I don't have to commute to and from work in the dark.

Enjoying Our Indian Summer

I keep reminding myself to move indoors and paint, but our weather for this week is an unprecedented week of Indian Summer. Yesterday I had the doors and windows open in the afternoon, which I'll continue through this week. I had postponed raking leaves in October because of our drought, not wanting to put any more stress on the trails near the woods,. Now I'm nearly scrambling to get some leaves raked and stashed in their cages. The leaves are a key ingredient in our composting practice for our gardens, and we need as many as we can rake. Actually, we don't have to worry about leaves here at Camp Colegate at all, because the winds quickly dispose of them over the flat fields. We can never quite figure out where they end up, some in the pond and the rest to the whims of the winds.

Years ago Bruce strategically placed these chicken wire enclosures along the trails, positioned near the areas of greater leaf fall. I truly enjoy raking leaves, but have never derived any pleasure from bagging or dragging them too far. This system works out well for me. The leaves stay contained in their cages, pack down over the winter with the rain and snow, and can be easily removed in the spring and added to our larger compost pile. I top them off with the bedding from the Chicken Chateau, and they then undergo a quick compost, ready for the garden.

There's something therapeutic and restorative about being outdoors in good weather, raking leaves. I take in the bird songs, the wind, marvel over the warmth of the sun and the cool of the shade. The year Mother died within two weeks after Bruce's Father, I couldn't find time to rake my leaves. We had Bernice to settle up at Cape May, family coming in to visit, attorneys to meet with, and paperwork to process. When I was finally able to make it outdoors, raking leaves was the perfect activity to find peace, reflect, and restore.

While I'm thinking about my terrible habit of procrastination, there is another chore/project that has been on reappearing on every daily list: repotting my plants. This is one activity that I detest, but as the water was running straight through my plants, some were sporting brown leaves, and others were growing better outside their pots rather than within the parameters of their pots, I knew I had to act, not rewrite on my to do list. So I spread out my newspapers and brought the plants in one by one, divided them and returned the smaller, stronger members to their clean pots with new soil. The heinous chore is over and done with, and I'll mop the kitchen floor later this afternoon. I understand why the wealthy have their potting sheds for these chores. The plant rejects are now gracing the compost pile. Please take notice of our Christmas Cactus, which I should rename the Holiday Cactus, as it has set forth and beginning to open up. I think the Rabbit's Foot and Holiday Cactus like where they are - Perfect Plant, Perfect Spot. Makes for beautiful plantings.

Rabbit's Foot, Christmas Cactus, and Begonia

Closeup of Christmas Cactus

Road Trip

Taking a little road trip to visit the Grands. How good to be back in the mountains again. I passed my favorite scenic vistas, but my camera was not where I could reach it. After a lunch break, I placed my camera within reach on the passenger seat. Periodically I'd snap a photo. I was disappointed that my shots were more of the road than anything, but was delighted to find the clarity of detail that was captured. Nothing makes an eight hour trip better than gorgeous scenery. Next time I'll have my camera at hand for the entire trip. There are so many drop dead gorgeous vistas all the way down South.



Love those mountains going into Asheville

Now that I'm not working, I find I have so much more energy on my visits. I stopped in at Julia's for a short visit, take some photos of Anna Kate in her new hat, and ran out for a quick dinner with Julia and her children. At Chris's we were busy with school Halloween parties, soccer games, pumpkin carving, tennis matches, and walking at the lovely park near her home.  Someday we'll make it over those higher trails, but  even the 2.2 loop at Mulberry is an invigorating hike. We took a drive to Lake Hartwell to look at property that Paul and his brother are developing. Gorgeous, very tempting, and I'm thinking about it constantly. My daily walks would have views of the lake and mountains. Rocky Mountain High 24/7!

Henry on the left with his coach. He scored a goal while I was watching.

Grant in the center with glasses

Trick or Treating with the Dalrymples

Hunterette!

A Return to Crochet

Our Mother, Ruth Jones, could do anything she set her mind to. She never took a class, but could purchase a guide and run with it. Her first challenge came from her country cousins who told her that city girls could never learn to quilt. Nothing like throwing down the gauntlet. Ruth proceeded to create lovely, durable quilts, that we girls used, unfortunately, and have only survival scraps to remind us of her triumph. She made all our  clothes, her curtains and drapes (then ours as we moved out and started our own families), and even Dad's boxer shorts from our discarded/outgrown skirts. That was during her down time. She washed our clothes in her wringer washer and hung them up to dry. All our food came from the garden or butchered livestock. During the winter we feasted from her canning and frozen foods.

When I was in high school, I loved those gorgeous Villager cabled sweaters, which were beyond our budget. Mother took one look at them and returned, "We could make those." She made notes of the basic cable pattern, so wide, so tall, and then we went to  craft store and purchased a basic sweater pattern. Mother was left-handed, and I was right-handed, so instead of sitting next to her, I'd sit opposite, and somehow, we figured it out. I remember that I hand knit seven sweaters my senior year (and worked at Davidson's Photo Shop and engaged in all the extracurricular activities that I loved). I'd stay up until midnight knitting, then get up at 6AM for school. Ah, those were the days. Mother branched out into caning chairs with her sister, Harriet Halderman, and just about anything that caught her eye. She never enjoyed the design or beauty of the end product, but derived her personal satisfaction from creating technically perfect product.

When I lived down South I dabbled into crochet, which I enjoyed more. For the most part, one pretty much created a product as a whole, rather than pieces of a product that were later sewn/woven together. I made two elaborate afghans, one of which is perfect, the other one has a flaw in it. Not my Mother's daughter. I started this in Toccoa, GA, and would visit a woman who had a studio in a log cabin at the back of her house. I distinctly remember her telling me that children were not appreciated, looking deliberately at my Chris and Julia. Oh, dear. I never went back. I would pack up my work and ask Mother for help when we visited in Ohio.

How I ramble. Focus. After Bonfire this year, Julia mentioned to her cousin, Valerie Timmerman, that she loved Val's daughters' hats. Mother's words popped into my mouth, and I remarked, "I can make that." So I went onto the internet and found a darling pattern for three hats (two boys and a girl - how perfect!), and began a darling hat for Anna Kate. The pattern should pop up at this link from Crochet World: http://www.crochetmagazine.com/newsletters.php?mode=article&article_id=515.  I was a little rusty, but how great to have the internet as a resource for your questions and problems. I've so enjoyed working on this, a perfect project for  winter evenings. My challenge is having six grandchildren, mostly boys, to find projects for. The older boys may just roll their eyes, but I'll see what happens. Returning to crochet has brought back so many memories.

My Crochet Basket



Anna Kate in her Crazy Hat




Crazy Hat Close-Up

I think she likes it. Next Project: Crazy Hats for the Boys!