Friday, August 24, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Cooking moments
It has been a long time, maybe a few years, since Alice and I have been able to spend any more time together than having breakfast at the Nevada Diner or lunch someplace. Alice spent all last week with me, reintroducing me to my own house and working herself to death on my behalf despite the warm weather. Her visit was wonderful in so many ways. We had time to really visit, and to talk about so many of the things that are important to her. Alice is a force to be reckoned with, and when she sets her mind to accomplishing something, whether it's graduate school, taking charge of her health, or cleaning my house, she does not stray from her mission. Alice is also a wonderful cook. We got our own breakfasts, but Alice fixed lunches and dinners and they were superb. Her crowning glory was a blueberry/raspberry/blackberry tart. Heaven on earth, it was.
Alice left Saturday morning, and I went to the office to get some work done. I am really behind, because working at home was a complete failure, thanks to dial-up, and working at Thelma's was OK but not great because I had no access to the Norwich network. In any case, it was growing close to 4:30 pm when I realized that I hadn't taken anything out of the freezer, and that I had to make my own dinner. Luckily, a co-worker showed up and at about 6 we went out to eat! Good grief, it's been seven weeks since I had to get my own dinner. That will take getting used to.
On this Wednesday, August 15, Julia Child would have been 100 years old. In 1966 four of us young women, who carpooled together to our first-job-out-of-college, learned about cooking from Julia Child. One of our group of four went to Kroch and Brentano's, the fancy and imposing NYC bookstore, and wangled a "group discount" for our copies of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". Whatever weeknight The French Chef was on PBS, we went from work to the home of whoever had the TV (not me) and watched the program, with our cookbooks open in front of us. Then we went to our own apartments and during the rest of the week tried to cook what Julia had cooked on the show.
If you followed Julia's directions carefully, you could not go wrong, you learned a lot, and you ate a good dinner. It's still true, and I still use that cookbook.
Alice left Saturday morning, and I went to the office to get some work done. I am really behind, because working at home was a complete failure, thanks to dial-up, and working at Thelma's was OK but not great because I had no access to the Norwich network. In any case, it was growing close to 4:30 pm when I realized that I hadn't taken anything out of the freezer, and that I had to make my own dinner. Luckily, a co-worker showed up and at about 6 we went out to eat! Good grief, it's been seven weeks since I had to get my own dinner. That will take getting used to.
On this Wednesday, August 15, Julia Child would have been 100 years old. In 1966 four of us young women, who carpooled together to our first-job-out-of-college, learned about cooking from Julia Child. One of our group of four went to Kroch and Brentano's, the fancy and imposing NYC bookstore, and wangled a "group discount" for our copies of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". Whatever weeknight The French Chef was on PBS, we went from work to the home of whoever had the TV (not me) and watched the program, with our cookbooks open in front of us. Then we went to our own apartments and during the rest of the week tried to cook what Julia had cooked on the show.
If you followed Julia's directions carefully, you could not go wrong, you learned a lot, and you ate a good dinner. It's still true, and I still use that cookbook.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Residency is done for 2012
Every year Sophia and I think that Residency will be more "automatic", and less intense. It never is. Nothing bad happened, but this year we had two programs to manage, and that was intense indeed. No stories worth telling, except for the annual awards. You may remember last year's award, which I got because I was spied taking a nap in a hallway. This year it was about the weather. Last Tuesday we were leaving one of the campus buildings for the dining hall and the skies opened.
We waited for the initial cloudburst to end but then it morphed into a steady rain, and my umbrella was in the car. We had to cross a sizeable courtyard/plaza to get to the dining hall. I had an honor society initiation to conduct after dinner and did not want to look like a drowned rat.
At the entrance to the larger campus buildings we have 8-foot tables with water setups so people can refresh themselves during the day. These tables have plain white tablecloths covered with two large, decorative square cloths, one gold and one maroon (Norwich colors). I whisked the gold cloth off the table, put it over my head and made a run for the dining room. Someone there saw this large yellow thing flapping across the courtyard in the dark ...
I got the Flying Nun Award.
The second batch of baby robins is growing fast. FOUR of 'em. This morning two are starting to stretch shoulders and wings. Here's the facebook link.
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.463999106946318.111309.100000086971614&type=1&l=c59547d7ad
And here are two of the best flower pictures I've ever taken. Absolutely no image "improvement" except for resizing to making uploading easier.
We waited for the initial cloudburst to end but then it morphed into a steady rain, and my umbrella was in the car. We had to cross a sizeable courtyard/plaza to get to the dining hall. I had an honor society initiation to conduct after dinner and did not want to look like a drowned rat.
At the entrance to the larger campus buildings we have 8-foot tables with water setups so people can refresh themselves during the day. These tables have plain white tablecloths covered with two large, decorative square cloths, one gold and one maroon (Norwich colors). I whisked the gold cloth off the table, put it over my head and made a run for the dining room. Someone there saw this large yellow thing flapping across the courtyard in the dark ...
I got the Flying Nun Award.
The second batch of baby robins is growing fast. FOUR of 'em. This morning two are starting to stretch shoulders and wings. Here's the facebook link.
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.463999106946318.111309.100000086971614&type=1&l=c59547d7ad
And here are two of the best flower pictures I've ever taken. Absolutely no image "improvement" except for resizing to making uploading easier.
Monday, June 4, 2012
More bird adventures
Oh, how I am regretting the loss of a photo op.
My good friend Kris Rowley came over yesterday to give a new home to a small, not thriving peegee hydrangea that I've been nursing along for a couple of years but really don't like. It's probably failing to thrive because it's too wet there, but also maybe because I don't pay much attention to it.
Be that as it may, it IS baby bird season, and as we were walking past the flower bed in front of the house, Kris exclaimed "You have a bird on your leg!" This was a great surprise, and it was hard to find the bird because it was toward the back of my (jeans-covered) leg. A baby chickadee. Hopping up my leg. Quickly and with some determination. (What will I do if it heads for my face or my head???).
Chickadees are not that big, and this was a cute and truly tiny bird. Kris was trying valiantly to get her phone out of her pocket, and on, and ready to take a picture. The bird had moved around my leg was on the front of the leg, about mid-thigh (perfect for a camera shot) but Kris couldn't get it framed properly. I must have moved a little because baby birdie flew off (not the strongest flier I've ever seen), fell into the ferns, ascended to the rough concrete foundation on the north side of the house (visualize a chickadee-sized climbing wall) and then flew to the birch tree, where it hid in the leaves.
I've never had a bird light on me before!! What a picture that would have been! That, and a picture of the look on Kris's face.
Earlier I'd been out in the yarn, doing some plant rearranging in between the rain showers, and I heard a loud "thwock" near the front door. Looked around, saw nothing. Heard it again, looked, and saw either Mama or Dad robin flying back to the fence. I had put the plexiglass back into the storm door so I could take more bird pix when the time comes. Behind the storm door is the house door with its glass window.
Clearly, the robin had seen its own reflection in the doorway, very close to the nest, and had attacked this "interloper". I opened the inside door and that has made the threat go away. Mama is still sitting, more quietly this time.
My good friend Kris Rowley came over yesterday to give a new home to a small, not thriving peegee hydrangea that I've been nursing along for a couple of years but really don't like. It's probably failing to thrive because it's too wet there, but also maybe because I don't pay much attention to it.
Be that as it may, it IS baby bird season, and as we were walking past the flower bed in front of the house, Kris exclaimed "You have a bird on your leg!" This was a great surprise, and it was hard to find the bird because it was toward the back of my (jeans-covered) leg. A baby chickadee. Hopping up my leg. Quickly and with some determination. (What will I do if it heads for my face or my head???).
Chickadees are not that big, and this was a cute and truly tiny bird. Kris was trying valiantly to get her phone out of her pocket, and on, and ready to take a picture. The bird had moved around my leg was on the front of the leg, about mid-thigh (perfect for a camera shot) but Kris couldn't get it framed properly. I must have moved a little because baby birdie flew off (not the strongest flier I've ever seen), fell into the ferns, ascended to the rough concrete foundation on the north side of the house (visualize a chickadee-sized climbing wall) and then flew to the birch tree, where it hid in the leaves.
I've never had a bird light on me before!! What a picture that would have been! That, and a picture of the look on Kris's face.
Earlier I'd been out in the yarn, doing some plant rearranging in between the rain showers, and I heard a loud "thwock" near the front door. Looked around, saw nothing. Heard it again, looked, and saw either Mama or Dad robin flying back to the fence. I had put the plexiglass back into the storm door so I could take more bird pix when the time comes. Behind the storm door is the house door with its glass window.
Clearly, the robin had seen its own reflection in the doorway, very close to the nest, and had attacked this "interloper". I opened the inside door and that has made the threat go away. Mama is still sitting, more quietly this time.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Baby Robins again???
Yes, folks, Mom has returned to the nest for another round of baby-raising. I startled her away from under the eaves a few times over the weekend and finally took a judicious peek this morning. Sure enough, there she is. How do I know it's the same bird?
Because she looks just like before: April 27 Same sidewise look, head tilt, everything.
Further reports to follow, perhaps not quite so obsessively as before.
Because she looks just like before: April 27 Same sidewise look, head tilt, everything.
Further reports to follow, perhaps not quite so obsessively as before.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Baby robins 3
This was supposed to be titled "Hungry baby robins", because the generator work, right next to the front door, kept both Mom and Dad away from the nest (and fussing mightily) from 9 am to about 3pm. Every time I took a look through the camera those babies were yelling and screaming and stretching their necks, and pushing one another around so that if anyone ever showed up with food, whoever pushed hardest and latest would be first up. Great pictures, despite baby robin distress.
But the camera battery was dying (it doesn't tell me that until it's about to shut the camera down) and not a single picture came out well. Mostly out of focus (or focused on the dust on the storm door).
The good news is that Puny is alive and well. Lots of pictures. If you look closely (enlarge the picture), you'll see three little bills peeping up.
But the camera battery was dying (it doesn't tell me that until it's about to shut the camera down) and not a single picture came out well. Mostly out of focus (or focused on the dust on the storm door).
The good news is that Puny is alive and well. Lots of pictures. If you look closely (enlarge the picture), you'll see three little bills peeping up.
I have a generator
I thought it would be an ugly, messy mess. Not hardly. Neat as a pin.
First, for those of you who are fascinated by machinery, a walk-behind Bobcat. (What will they think of next?)
Only 4 daylilies had their leaves sacrificed! They might not bloom this year, but you can't kill a daylily.
Once again the Bobcat does its job, raising the generator up to the frame. You can see the concrete slab in place.
And with the generator at the right height, it's just a small bit of lifting. Yeah, so you say ...
There it is, right in the garden. Have I got a lot of replanting to do. There are supposed to be propane tanks by the tree to the right of the generator. But Gillespie forgot to come to install them. They're coming Monday, they say.
First, for those of you who are fascinated by machinery, a walk-behind Bobcat. (What will they think of next?)
Navigating the ditch with the forklift carrying the concrete slab on which the generator will rest.
Using the forklift to put the generator unit behind the woodpile, temporarily. .
Looks like a giant chain saw, doesn't it?
But no! It's a ditcher, and digs a trench about 8" wide, if that. Here they are, marking the start of the ditch. The tool can be placed accurately to about 3 inches.
And away we go!
Assembling the circuit and switching boxes
Right by where the power comes into the house. You can imagine how the robins felt about this ...
Only 4 daylilies had their leaves sacrificed! They might not bloom this year, but you can't kill a daylily.
Once again the Bobcat does its job, raising the generator up to the frame. You can see the concrete slab in place.
And with the generator at the right height, it's just a small bit of lifting. Yeah, so you say ...
There it is, right in the garden. Have I got a lot of replanting to do. There are supposed to be propane tanks by the tree to the right of the generator. But Gillespie forgot to come to install them. They're coming Monday, they say.
And there's the house hookup. Tiny ditch across the driveway, properly tamped down (the Bobcat again). This nifty generator knows when the power goes out, and turns itself on and then off when power is restored. It tests itself every month. If something takes the power out when I'm away for several days, the house is safe. Probably a good thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)