2009- more or less the same?

The snow was up to out butts, and we had not seen the ground in 5 weeks. It was definitely time for a road trip to Virginia and a nice visit with DD, DSIL, and DGS. It was marvelous to take the dogs for a walk around to Dunkin Donuts and back. The dogs were happy to go, anytime a leash was offered. On Saturday the 27th, the temperature was in the high sixties. We watched the weather at home, and it rose into the 40's there, as well. It rained at home. Perhaps some of that g--awful snow will be gone by the time we get home.
Aunt Ida called me today, to wish me a merry christmas and catch me up on my cousins' doings. It was a wonderful holiday surprise. I sent her greetings from all my siblings. I am making my plans for the new year. I wonder if I can forego resolutions that involve self-denial or self improvement. Do you think I could just promise not to be any worse than I was last year?

Some unfortunate physics involving knit cotton underwear

It was 19 below last night. It got up to zero today. (That's farenheit, so another 32 degrees before anything actually melts.) We went to our Monday bowling league. Now a bowling center is not an easy or cheap thing to keep heated. Lots of square feet and cubic feet, and big blowers and fans... So the bowling alley does not keep the place heated overnight (except the rest rooms so the plumbing doesn't freeze.)
We got to the bowling alley on Ft. Drum at noon, and the temperature inside was 44 degrees (again, farenheit!) We kept our coats on. I kept my mittens on between frames. Three hours later, we were done with bowling, and the temperature was up to 57 degrees. I made a few unnecessary trips to the ladies' room, just to warm up.
Oh yeah, underwear. In dressing for bowling, I gave consideration to the fact that the bowling alley would be cold. (My estimate was seriously warmer than the alley. Nevermind.) I put on a cotton knit turtleneck and a wool pullover sweater. These two garments generally get along well, acting as one shirt. However, when throwing a cotton knit sports bra into the formula, things get to fighting with one another. I was doing a clothing adjustment after every frame. The turtleneck crept up with each arm swing, taking the sweater with it, and the bra did not allow the shirts to get back down on their own. They had to be wiggled and yanked back into modest compliance. This probably explains why I was not as cold as some people. I was working it!

Has the snow let up?

No it has not. It has pretty much been snowing since Thanksgiving, though the weather has cooled off, so no more power outages from trees falling over with the weight of heavy wet snow. Now the snow is anything but wet. It has reliably remained below freezing for the last 4 days, and the snow (lake effect) keeps coming. Going anywhere is an adventure. The roads are plowed, but not salted, so things are slippery (packed snow on the roads) and visibility comes and goes. When it goes, you'd like to not be on the road. We check the radar before we go to the store (1.7 miles away.)
Our foster dog, Buddy, has been here for the weekend. Since the Old Lady is gone, he finally had permission to go upstairs. (That was her bailiwick, and no visiting dogs were allowed.) I put his bed in my bedroom, so he could sleep in the same room with the rest of the pack.
The dogs went out, the dogs came in, the dogs went out again. And so it went all weekend. It kept the blood from settling in my butt.
When I was not shoveling, I spent several hours sampling on the passap (knitting machine). I really made a lot of progress. DH was working in the shop doing the christmas present thing.
It's fun to wander out to the shop, warm yourself by the stove, have a cup of tea, then go back to my own projects.
Well, it's time to shovel again. This is getting old.

Half a Turkey is better?

The snowfall was gorgeous. The power outage was predictable. Cooking the turkey was the problem.
What a wonderful Thanksgiving day we had. We spent the day hauling firewood in to feed the woodstove in the living room, and sweeping up chunks of snow from everyone's boots and from the dogs going in and out as well. The boy, who is too cool to wear snow gear, was changing out of wet jeans and socks every half hour, and the wet things were piling up. We put stuff near the stove to dry. Gin rummy was played.
Most of the cooking was done the day before, including the cranberries, the squash, the rutabaga, the rolls., the pumpkin pies. We just had to cook a 24 pound bird, make gravy and mashed potatoes. The resources available, and the clock moving steadily onward, figured in the final solution: cut the turkey in half, and cook one half on the gas grill. With the second half of the bird safely in a cooler on the back porch (38 degrees), our fearless grillmaster left the house carrying the roasting pan to the back shed, where the grill was set up, out of the snow. Thirty minutes later, the power was back on.
Cooking was finished in the kitchen. (In the evening, I cooked the second half, and made more gravy, as we all know, there is no such thing as too much gravy.)
I hope your day was as satisfying, though if you did without the snow and the power outage, you don't lose any points.

Hope for Chicken Cacciatore. Expect Chili.

In my mother's kitchen, you did not stop your meal preparation to go get a missing ingredient. Actually, you did not stop if you were missing all the ingredients. You substituted. We still recall Mom's recipe for chicken cacciatore: Brown a pound of ground beef. Add tomatoes, onions, celery, and beans. Season with chili powder. Serve over mashed potatoes. We all faithfully follow this recipe.
I was thinking about this yesterday, when DH said, by the way, there are some really great frozen tacos in the freezer. I asked him how he had failed to tell me this last night, as he watched me eat a swanson mexican combo frozen dinner. He had no answer. Actually, his excuse was that he was nearly comatose in front of the tube when I got home from my bowling league, but this is not where I want to go with this post. Back on track!
Oh, yes. recipes. Actually, my chili recipe is constantly evolving. (Sounds much more creative than 'substitute'.) It has gone low-fat (ground turkey) or vegetarian (tofu) or shabby chic frugal (diced pork roast). It has gone 'green' (Verde). Apparently, that's what recipe's do- they evolve. Which leads to interesting questions, like do recipes arise, like life in the premordial soup, over and over again, or does a recipe arise once, and evolve endlessly into a thousand diverse offspring? And who cares?
I plan to make chili on Wednesday. People are driving a long way to visit for the holiday, and they will need something familiar and tasty to eat when they get here. It has to be no-fuss. But it needs to demonstrate just the tiniest shred of having evolved from the last time. Can't say what that will be until it happens. I see some chicken in the freezer.

Birthdays for House Plants

It's official. One of my house plants is old enough to vote. Now I know that most people do not know how old their plants are. Tell me: How can that be? (You don't know either, right?)
It's the Grapefruit tree. Of course, I didn't find her, she found me. One day in November 1990, I was eating a grapefruit. (duh.) One of the seeds was already sprouted. I shoved it into the soil of the nearest potted plant, a very maternal philodendron. It grew and it grew. By the time it was 7 or 8 years old, she lived in a huge pot, and I tried to get her to spend the summers outside, and her winters on the porch. She suffered severe winter kill in her 8th year. Nothing budded in the spring. I was whacking her trunk off to make it easier to get the body off the porch, when .... TOO LATE!!!! I saw the green rim of live just beneath the bark in the very terminal cut I had made. I was miserable. I dragged the tree outside, and went back for the pot. That's when I saw the tiny leaf budding an inch below the cut. She wasn't gone after all.
She just had to start over. I don't prune her. My Big Guy keeps talking about how she needs a good clipping, take out those crossed branches, thin out the limbs where they are too close. I can't bring myself to do it. Who does he want her to get pretty for? I say, leave her wild. She looks good to me.

The Old Lady's nap

The Old Lady has taken up napping in the dog's bed. This leaves Sally flummoxed, since she recognizes that the cat has higher pack status than she does, and if the cat is in the Sally's bed, the dog cannot get into the bed until the cat invites her. The Old Lady will not be inviting her, as she cannot imagine anyone waiting for an invitation. This is how I know that we will not be able to effectively communicate with creatures from other parts of the galaxy, when they arrive on earth. Maybe they've already been here and left, looking for a more understandable species.
At any rate, the Old lady is in the dog bed only because she cannot jump up on the couch, her preferred nap space. When I do find her napping on the couch, I know that she tried and failed at least twice, before her old, wasting hind quarters could launch her from the floor to the couch. She will not use the kitty steps I have placed for her.
Everything has changed, and nothing has changed. Youth is gone, and with it, the competent comfortable body. Expectations have not changed. I expect to nap on the couch. I will probably use the kitty steps.