A bit of ridiculousness, or Only boring people get bored

That's not true. I'm sure many interesting people get bored sometimes. That's just the phrase we would use when our children would say, "I'm bored". What does this have to do with what I'm about to show? I don't know. Anyhow, we were snowed in over the weekend. The media called it "an epic storm". Thirty-plus inches. And guess what? We're in the midst of a second one, promising twenty-four more inches on top of that. What should we do? I know - let's make snow candles. I read about them somewhere a long time ago. And if I could honestly remember where, I'd give credit, or at least ask, "Hey, what did I do wrong?"

To make snow candles, you will need:

snow...

candle wicks (you can buy them in a craft store)...

Make depressions in the snow using a small bowl. Place the wicks in the center.

Melt some old candle stubs. You must use a double boiler for this - wax is flammable and cannot be placed directly on the burner.

I used a chopstick to fish out the old wicks from the recycled candles.

Pour the melted wax into your snow cups.

Let them sit in the snow for at least an hour.

When I fished them out of the snow, I found these oddly shaped wax islands. So I floated them in a bowl of water. Pretty, aren't they? Pretty ridiculous - sorry, I was bored...

Wakey, Wakey

"whaaaaaaaatt??"

"Gimme five more minutes..."

"FINE - I'm AWAKE!"




71 - Afternoon light

When I got to be Marmee

Around this time last year while experiencing another round of color deprivation, I got the urge to make valentine hearts with felt and embroidery thread. My older daughter joined me. Then my daughter-in-law and soon-to-be-daughter-in-law who were visiting thought they'd give it a try. Finally the youngest jumped in as well. It was a Little Women moment with Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy on a winter's evening. I know, I know, but it's my blog and I can be hokey if I want to...

Anyhoo, I wasn't blogging back then so I don't have any how-to pictures. But it's easy enough to explain.

Draw or trace the shape of a heart on a light-colored piece of felt. I used a heart-shaped cookie cutter as a template. You'll need two pieces to make one heart. Pure wool felt is best - its colors are richer and it's easier to embroider on than the synthetic stuff.

After your heart is cut out (ha, ha - no, wait, that's a different book...), that is to say, you need to cut the shapes out and save the felt scraps for later use.

Draw whatever you like on the heart. Keep it simple.

Next, using embroidery floss, stitch away. We mostly used satin stitch and chain stitch.

Take your leftover scraps of wool and cut them up into smaller pieces. You'll use them for stuffing the hearts, making them look nice and puffy.

Sew the two pieces together using a blanket stitch.

Happy memories!

"Other people's domesticities"

If we read books to know we're not alone, how much more blogging?

It's been such a blessing over these past several months to participate in the blogging community. What a delight meeting so many interesting people, sharing ideas, books, recipes and what-not. It's exciting discovering a rapport with someone quite different from you, from another walk of life or another country. At the risk of sounding cheesy, it seems to make the world sweeter, and though we may never meet face to face, I value these "brotherhood of man" moments. They really add a spark to my day. So, fellow bloggers, anonymous readers, and commenters, thank you.

"It was early evening when my journey began. The train was full, but not yet uncomfortably so, of people going home....I could not help it - the clicking of all those garden gates, the opening of all those front doors....came over my imagination with all the caress of a half-remembered bit of music. There is an extraordinary charm in other people's domesticities....The pleasure is, once more, the mirror pleasure - the pleasure of seeing as an outsider what is to others an inside, and realizing that your are doing so...." C.S. Lewis Hedonics



70 - your slice of life

Color, pleeeaase, I neeeed COLOR

There's a scene from the movie Shadowlands that captures my mood this time of year. C.S. Lewis and a colleague are sitting together in a library on a gray day in late winter.

"I've always found this a trying time of the year."
"Trying? To do what, Jack?"
"The leaves not yet out, mud everywhere you go,
Frosty mornings gone, sunny mornings not yet come.
Give me blizzards and frozen pipes, but not this nothing time, not this waiting room of the world."

Yes, Jack, my sentiments exactly. These damp, gray days are getting to me, and the Philadelphia Flower Show is still two months away. The next best thing is to find something colorful and stare at it for a long time, like this glowing basket of plant-dyed wool roving which I placed on the sofa in a patch of sunlight that I knew wasn't going to last. But while it did I was going to make the most of it.

Ahhhhh, starting to feel better already. What other colorful thing can we do?

I know, let's make a yarn of sorts from pot holder loops. Remember those?

Loop them together into long chains.

Roll them into balls so they don't get tangled.

Next, using a large crochet hook, make a simple chain stitch. Chain the whole ball of "yarn".

You'll wind up with these thick cords...

...which could possibly eventually become a cheerful rag rug once I learn how to sew the strips together.

Potage parmentier...

...or potato and leek soup, was the first "from scratch" soup I ever made. It was also when I fell in love with cooking. I was about twelve years old. I found the recipe in The Bulletin, a now defunct Philadelphia city newspaper. The soup seemed so fancy, yet easy to make, and I couldn't wait to try it. On my first attempt it came out beautifully--very encouraging to a novice cook--and I've been making it ever since. It's very versatile. I remember that the recipe said you can serve it cold and call it Vicyssoise (ooh la la). I've also used it as a base for New England clam chowder.

To make it you'll need:

2 leeks
6 small or 4 large potatoes
4 tablespoons butter
8 cups water
1/2 pint half and half or light cream
salt and pepper

Anyone who has used leeks knows that they hold a lot of grit and sand. I slit them with a knife lengthwise and rinse them in a bowl of cold water.

When they are clean, slice them up like this. Sautee them in a 5 quart pot with butter until soft, but don't let them brown. Add your peeled and sliced potatoes (sorry, no picture - you know what a sliced and peeled potato looks like, right?). Salt and pepper to taste, and add just enough water to cover the potatoes. Bring to a boil, then simmer on low until the potatoes are fork tender.

At this point you need to puree the contents of the pot. I used to pour it all into a blender, then back into the pot--until my thoughtful son Alex, who's an awesome cook, gifted me with this handheld mixer. When it's completely pureed, add your half pint of cream. Done.

I like to serve it with cornbread. Any recipe will do - even a mix. But here's the key to delicious corn bread: bake it in a cast iron skillet. Most recipes call for a 400 degree oven. Add at least two tablespoons of vegetable oil to the skillet. Pop the skillet in while the oven is preheating. When the oven is fully preheated, open it and pour your batter into the skillet without removing it. The hot skillet causes the cornbread to be crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and out of this world delicious.

The photo is not very good, but trust me, the soup is.

Taking a stab at making preserved lemons. The how-to came from Quotidian Life, a most interesting blog. Thank you, Melissa.

Counting Blessings #13

65 - "You keep no record of my sin...You don't remember all my shame..."

66 - "I will not forget, I won't forget Your promises..."

67 - Parlor entertainment on Thursday nights

68 - Purrs and patterns

69 - sister love