Dream bars and Dreamliners

Yesterday was "Bake Cookie Day" and so I did. Two batches of coconut dream bars (everyone's favorite and frankly a pain to make) then a bunch of decorated cookie airplanes for John to take to work today. My annual holiday contribution to the dedicated Boeing workforce. Over the years, surely I've made a cookie for every single employee?  I'm cookied out for another year.

The rain held off yesterday and I walked to the store. My lower back is bothering me and I hoped the exercise would help. Honestly, this cold and damp climate is hard on the old bones. Those snow birds are really onto something.

It was a nice uneventful afternoon in retail land. Not to brag, but I'm getting pretty good at my cashier job. Probably because I've now worked through the entire list of common mistakes, at least once, and I tend to learn from my goofs. For some reason, people had wads of money to spend yesterday.  Real money.  Was it social security day? Usually folks are thrown into a tizzy because they can't charge a $2 coffee mug (we have a $5 minimum for charges.)

Next Wednesday is Christmas, then the following New Years Day, so I'm on furlough for a couple of weeks. I'm ready for a break from the store. I've only missed one day since I started last spring.

I still have quite a bit to do before Tuesday and most of it revolves around food, my favorite subject. I got in a final trip to Costco on a dry day. Yea. Purgatory?  Pushing a loaded cart across the vast Costco parking lot in the pouring rain.  I bought a nice smoked ham for Christmas dinner. At least I hope it's good, the big thing is wrapped in gold foil so you can't see what you're buying.

The kids are too excited to eat on Christmas morning, and by afternoon, too tired and distracted with their new stuff. After weeks of preparations, I just wish the holiday stretched out longer. It's a awful lot to pack into a single day. Both for children and adults.

Wordless Wednesday

The Ghost of Christmas Present

"A Christmas Carol" movies

Inversions

Amanda took this sparkling picture last Sunday on a hike in the mountains. Behind the girls, far below, see that layer of clouds filling the Methow Valley.  This happens when the air temperature increases with elevation, the opposite of normal.

We have winter inversions in Seattle occasionally. It's nasty, because pollutants and cold, foggy air gets trapped on the surface.  Inversions are a nice thing to look DOWN on.

Nothing like that this week in western Washington. We'll be squeaky clean after several inches of incoming rain. Heavy snow in the mountains.  I say, get it over with now, before the family drives over the passes on the 24th.

Speaking of Christmas, in a week it will be over. How about that? Except for the mess, that is, ha ha. I still need to get the house ready for company, put the leaves in the table, and plan the meals. Buy the food. Our usual Christmas lunch is ham with scalloped potatoes. Green salad. Fruit salad. Cheesecake for dessert. Fresh lemonade. The sugar cookies still need to be decorated, the dream bars haven't been made yet. Cookie platters made for friends and work. And a final trip to Costco today, before it really starts raining.

Well, I won't get it done lying in bed, blogging and drinking coffee. Till tomorrow, Ciao.

December 15

Today is National Lemon Cupcake Day. Marji's preserved lemon peel made these humble cupcakes special. Honestly, I'm not much of a baker.

The quiche turned out OK, but why did the crust stick to the pan like glue? It was much better for breakfast this morning, go figure. Anyway, everyone said they liked it, and what a nice time we had visiting. Such a dear group of precious friends.

Our old craftsman house is small but pretty, and decorated at Christmas, I have to admit, quite beautiful. The tree is covered in heirloom ornaments. No one could understand how I could possibly want to move somewhere else.

Like some sour Grinch, I pointed out things like my kitchen "pantry" in the far corner of the basement, endlessly carrying laundry up and down steep steps, the tiny bottleneck of a kitchen, lack of parking, the noisy, built-up neighborhood, and so on. It fell on deaf ears. 

Well, sometimes it helps to see our familiar, taken-for-granted things through the eyes of others. Surely the secret to happiness is hanging on to your dreams, and at the same time, appreciating what you have at the moment.

You might wonder what does this dream house of mine look like?  How about a low-slung ranch style adobe, with a spacious floor plan and private courtyard. Birds. Fountain. Quiet. A sunny climate wouldn't hurt, either.

This is definitely not Seattle.

Friday

Officially, winter doesn't even start for about a week. The TV weathermen are excited this morning because it's snowing heavily in the mountains.  The ski areas can finally open and travel looks dicey over the passes.

In a typical winter, down in the lowlands, we are treated to cold rain, while snow dumps by the foot up in the mountains. Of course, last year was anything but typical, with record February snow in Seattle. Who knows? 

Anyway, we like the Solstice in the Northwest because more than the start of winter, it signals the slow return of light and spring. The garden is such a sad and soggy sight.  This is the one time of year it's hard to believe it was ever beautiful, or will be beautiful again. (See above sad canna lily.) But by late January, the first bulbs are poking up and we've already turned the corner. Or so it feels.

Fortunately, there's plenty to keep us busy indoors in December.  Tomorrow I'm hosting a lunch for some old friends from the barn where I once kept my horse Sizzle. My, those happy days seem almost like a dream now.  Anyway, these nice barn ladies seldom see each other anymore, and never all at once, so it should be fun.  I'm making quiche and salad, with lemon cupcakes for dessert. Thank you Marji, for the delicious lemons from the sunny south!

Have a good weekend. 

Bucks County farms

Mom in front of the "Hill Farm"

In the 1940's, our maternal grandparents Herman and Anna (along with their grown daughters Margaret and Ruth) moved from Philadelphia to this farm on the outskirts of Quakertown, PA. They raised rabbits and sheep for meat, and kept an orchard and garden on a few acres.

Those old immigrant Germans were quite frugal and resourceful, so they were probably self-sufficient here for a few years. But our grandfather had restless feet, and they later moved to Colorado. That's another story.

Anyway, this farmhouse is where dad asked Herman for the hand of "city girl" Margaret, who became his wife in 1947. We three kids followed soon after. The Hill Farm was close to our own dairy farm, and I remember happy times there with Dutzie and Grandpa, especially on holidays like Christmas and Easter when they had bunnies and lambs.

Dad said yesterday that the Kenneth Nunamaker painting on the blog looked just like the Hill Farm. I agreed, so I dug out that picture taken of mom, on a visit to Pennsylvania in 1995.  

Yes, the houses are indeed very similar, especially how they sit above the road. However, the roof line is slightly different, and Herman and Anna's house didn't have the upstairs sleeping porch. Of course, the artist may have taken liberties with these things.

There were once dozens of small farms like that scattered through rural Bucks County. The old picture above is our Grammy's farm, where dad grew up in a large extended family.

And it also reminds me of other farm paintings by Nunamaker. I'm so glad we stumbled on this beautiful and evocative artist.