Still Hanging Out Upstairs

Blanket Collection
Chilhuly Garden and Glass

I'm still hanging out here upstairs in the house. The kitchen remodel is plugging along. Plodding forward a full two months after I thought I would be moving our furniture back in (I know........). I am now more realistically referring to this project as the 'downstairs remodel' due to some flooring and millwork that were included. 

Right up front I should tell you that I am so very happy with the couple of guys measuring, sawing, hammering and finishing away down there. I can't say enough about their honesty, work ethic, communication, attention to detail and excellent craftsmanship. But certain things appear to be beyond the control of those spending their days here....and well, during the past week this has become more than obvious: Door/window millwork lumber was returned for the second time because the entire order arrived wrong yet again. The fire door to the garage was for some reason drilled for a different deadbolt than the one that was brought directly to the door store when the order was placed.....just so that type of thing would NOT happen.  Hardware was back ordered. Certain phone calls weren't returned promptly. In the on going saga of our front door lock (you didn't know there was one did you?) we were locked out of our house Friday evening.

And my dog died. I had a week last week....

Normally this might call for diving into a pan of warm homemade brownies while snuggled under my favorite blanket in front of the television, a cold glass of milk at the ready. Since most of my baking equipment is still packed away in the garage......I turned to the next best comfort food: Pasta. 

I began thinking about the way my mom loves macaroni best (and often mentions it!)...... warmed together with canned chopped tomatoes and their juice...... and started out to buy the ingredients for this simple dish. Somehow, my recent passion for kale got in the way......and then my craving for Beecher's Cheese. A can of  cannellini beans made their way into my cart, and well.....this is what I came up with. It was honestly so good, simple and comforting that I made it twice.

~~~~~

Tomat0, Kale and Cheese Pasta

2 14.5 oz cans of chopped tomatoes with their juice
2 cloves minced garlic
1/2 lb kale, washed, de-stemmed, de-ribbed, rolled up and cut into ribbons
2 tsp dried basil (although I think fresh would have been wonderful)
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp salt
freshly ground pepper to taste
3/4 lb of conchiglia pasta (kind of a cross between a fat macaroni and a shell     
  shape....other similar shapes will do!)
1 can cannellini beans (Italian white beans), rinsed and drained
2 or more cups shredded Beecher's cheese

Place tomatoes and their juice, along with the minced garlic, chopped kale, basil oregano, salt and pepper into a large sauté pan or saucepan. Simmer 5-10 minutes until the kale has softened to your liking. Then add the beans.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta to just al dente. Save out a couple cups of the cooking water, then drain the rest from the pasta. Gently toss pasta thoroughly with the tomato/kale/bean mixture in its pan. Add about a cup of the shredded cheese and gently fold until the cheese melts into the hot tomato mixture, there is kale sticking to the sides of the pasta and some of the white beans are lodged into the ends. If you feel the need (and depending on the consistency of sauce you enjoy with your pasta), add some of the reserved pasta cooking water to the pan. Correct the salt and pepper seasonings.

Sprinkle the remaining cup or more of cheese on top and dig in while it's warm.

Makes 4-6 generous servings.

**Marc thought another can of beans would have been nice, but I thought it turned out perfect this way. Your decision!

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead!

Warmly, Margaret

~~~~~

PS. Have you  noticed that I haven't necessarily been sticking to a regular day for my posts. The first year it was EVERY Tuesday and Friday without fail. Then as life changed, I changed......to every Wednesday. Which sort of shifted toward Thursday. Which then became the occasional skipped week of posting. 

One thing I know about this process is that both writing and photography are important to me. So important that if I'm rushed or hurried or simply uninspired and don't feel I can put something 'out there' that I'm happy with, that I'd rather put it off until I can. It's such a great discipline to post once a week with regularity, but on the off chance that I don't show up, please do continue to check back in. Or join me through Blogger. Or sign up to receive an email with each new post. And by all means...please feel free to leave comments. I LOVE hearing from you!

Logan

I met him in a Target parking lot and fell in love in an instant. 

He wasn’t the first puppy I had looked at, but the right one. Just a few months prior, at a breeders suggestion, I was allowed to bring a pup home from her litter for a trial run. Pedro. He was absolutely adorable. Everything one might want in a Golden Retriever pup, except that after our allotted four hours, I knew the timing wasn’t right. The connection wasn’t there. I returned him to the breeder with thanks and an explanation. I had not a doubt that he belonged with another family.

I wanted another pup and knew it would happen at some point in the future but was OK with putting the idea on the back burner for awhile. And then, after stopping in at a friends house one February day I was greeted at the door by her, an eight week old, red-haired Golden Retriever babe in her arms. I oohed and ahhhed and petted and cuddled ......loosing track of the fact that she was even standing there. When I mentioned that a new member of our family was something I’d considered for awhile, she followed up with the information that she thought one of her pups litter mates was still available. Did I want the phone number? It couldn’t hurt to check it out.

I knew how I had felt holding her pup, but wasn’t completely sure I was ready to bring another living, breathing, shedding and un-trained being into our home, which was why I mentioned to Marc that I meant to simply ‘take a look’.  The breeder offered to meet me at a location closer to my home since she would be out that way anyway. 

The Target parking lot.

Round body. Soft red coat. Black marble eyes. Gentle demeanor. Without question or hesitation I transferred him from her arms to mine where his nose settled into the hollow of my neck and his warmth settled into my chest. With barely a word the deal was sealed. As it turned out, he had been returned to his breeder after spending three days with a couple who knew he wasn’t the dog for them (thank you). But I didn't have a doubt. This dog belonged in our family. With that first nuzzle I knew he had a place alongside me, Marc, our three boys, a dog and a cat. And I knew his name: Logan after one of our favorite places on earth, Logan’s Pass in Glacier National Park.

~~~~~

Seven years later his symptoms came on quickly. In retrospect maybe they had been there for a month or so, but it wasn't so unusual for him to throw his food up after gobbling it down all too fast, occasionally skip a meal or to sleep the day away. He was a dog after all. I took him in one day, when after giving him a pat on his way out the back door, I was shocked to feel the bony protrusions of  his scapula. A split second glance registered the outline of vertebrae down the center of his back. Afterward, he declined my offer of cheese. This is a creature that hung out with me almost all day, every day, and in just a few minutes I noticed that he, all of a sudden, looked and acted uncharacteristically different. Like a different dog.

A couple of visits to our regular vet, then an ultrasound at a specialty clinic showed the grim prognosis. The cancer, by the time it was discovered (most probably histiocytic sarcoma) had spread throughout his GI tract and other internal organs. An aggressive bully, insensitive and out for its own gain, it robbed him of 10 pounds, his ability to ingest food or water and stole most of his energy except for an occasional tail wag. 

In the face of bad news I can be logical. Stoic. Able to take the next step forward in order to move through the motions of whatever needs to be done. I was able to ask questions, listen to their answers, take notes, make phone calls, talk to my husband and our sons. I relayed information and knew that the rest of his family was in agreement: whatever we chose to do had to be all about Logan and not one bit about us. He was a loving, loyal, gentle, appreciative, generous and happy creature. Not one of us wanted to prolong his life in the face of pain or suffering. The decision, when the time came, was simple, easy and made painful sense. It was time......and before either of us voiced it, Marc and I had been seated quietly together, independently thinking the same thing. So at 9-something PM on a Sunday night, he was loaded onto a rug in the backseat of our car for the last time.

~~~~~

On this day it is difficult to realize that I will no longer hear a groan as he changes position in his sleep. No wet panting in my face when it’s time for me to ‘GET UP!’ No eager offer (from him) of a morning game of chase around the coffee table. There will be no sound of tail thumping before I even make it ‘round a corner or into a room. No cheering him on right around 7 PM each evening in his frantic search to find a sock he can present to Marc at the front door.  No bits of kibble strategically placed under the kitchen table for who-knows-what doggie reason. 

I have a washer full sheets and a blanket that made him comfortable during his last few days. His bed lays empty at the foot of mine. I miss him deeply and with my whole being. There will be routines to undo; moments I will need to correct in order to remind myself that my anticipation at seeing him is no longer useful.

And I have spent brief moments...... vacillating........wondering...... ‘Did we let him go too soon?’ ‘Allow him to suffer a couple of days too long?’ Sometime ago I remember hearing or reading or being told that the best day to put a pet down is the day before you think you need to.

We did the right thing.

And he is making a bunch of souls very happy in Heaven right now. I am sure of it. Smiling, running, chasing, protecting, patrolling and announcing his presence. Laughing (because research shows that dogs do laugh) and twirling ‘round and ‘round, chasing his tail, in his signature happy-dance move.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead. XO Margaret

Holiday Dream

Last night I had one of those dreams. You know the one: Where you wake up engulfed in panic because you arrived late to a test or slept through a job interview. Nearly everyone I know has experienced a version of this dream at one time or another. 

My own personal twist on this nighttime theme of missing-out-on-something-important was that I showed up on time but forgot to bring my camera. In this scenario I was at a photo workshop, riding along merrily with a few others toward the location of our shoot. I remember being happy and chatty and looking out at the passing scenery, excited for all of its potential...... but as we piled out of the car and onto a rocky beach near sunset, I realized I had forgotten my gear. As everyone else, carrying cameras and tripods and backpacks with lenses in them, raced toward a variety of shooting possibilities, I stayed behind to dig through the trunk and circle 'round the vehicle in order to scan its seats thoroughly just one more time. 

Nope. I had arrived without a camera, I was away from home, and the hotel we were staying at was miles away. In this dream I wasn't the driver of the group of photographers, but a passenger, and I remember thinking that I couldn't very well ask him or her to drive me back to collect it. There would be no use, because by the time we both returned, all of that glorious evening light bathing the sand and rocks and driftwood and shore life would have disappeared. While normally I check and double check to make sure I have every piece of equipment I might need for a shoot, apparently I was so distracted by the fun and conversation of the people around me that I had neglected to bring any of it. To focus on the one necessary thing.

In the next scene......because, you know, my dreams have scenes......I was sitting back on a log watching the others in their excitement, wondering how to creatively stretch the limits of the Instagram app on my cell phone. 

~~~~~

So 'What is going on in your life, Margaret?' you might ask? Well.....a lot. Wonderful things, but a lot. And I'm theorizing maybe too-much-at-once, because...... I had that dream last night. 

We are inching closer to the Holidays......what am I saying? The holidays are HERE. 
Meanwhile, the remodel on the main floor of our house is inching along. I will not complain (not one bit) but I've been without use of a kitchen since October 29th. And without my favorite writing, gift wrapping, photo editing, and gazing-out-the-window-into-the-backyard table. The table where I set my baked goods on racks to cool, work on Christmas projects and the one which, I think, prompts me to write a few lines on this blog. (See, I knew I could fit in a great excuse for skipping out on a post for last week!) The Holidays are......errr......HERE, not one cookie has been baked and I'm feeling a bit stressed and behind and wondering if I will be be able to pull it all together by the time two of our boys return home from afar. Or at the very least by Dec 25th.

Amidst all of this sort of chaos, I do, every day, know and understand that I have much to be thankful for. Here is a list I made last year: Thankful . It still applies. I'm going to re-read it now as a good reminder to myself. Then I will take a few deep breathes and try to slow down and compartmentalize and do what I want/need to get done. I will visualize and dream about it all coming together.....or at the very least appreciate each moment as I move forward.

Wishing you a Wonderful Week ahead!

XO. 

Warmly, Margaret

Happy Easter / Happy Spring

Well, the flu....or what I'm assuming was the flu......grabbed hold here and the stubborn virus, it just didn't want to let go. My best intentions to do anything at all were sidelined and my favorite couch blanket and new mattress were appreciated more than ever. Marc spent two days home sick from work which is almost unheard of.

As luck would have it, we had Easter dinner on Palm Sunday. It just worked out that way being the one day we had someone home. And that someone made sure I knew that although he felt a little bad about leaving before the holiday itself, that he would indeed appreciate the full holiday meal before he left.

Thank goodness I mustered up the energy to make the above cinnamon rolls Easter morning. I pretty much can't imagine a holiday without them......so even though our meal that evening was from the take-out barbecue place.....I kept at least an ounce of tradition intact! In my rush to enjoy one warm from the oven I forgot to take a picture after they had been turned out of the pan and onto a foil lined baking sheet, pecan halves clinging to the caramel syrup they were baked in. The rolls that, to me, make holidays...... holidays. 

I'm now on the mend and looking forward to spending some time out of doors soon.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead!

Warmly, Margaret

Dedicated Space

Natural light. Uncluttered surfaces. Clean lines. Neutral gray. Blank walls. A dedicated space. Minimal distractions. This is the workspace I dream about.

I'm in need of a place to work and create that doesn't affect other people. Where their needs don't affect what I'm attempting to distill onto the computer screen or on paper. There are times when Marc hesitates to come downstairs if he thinks I'm in the middle of something at my spot at the kitchen table. He doesn't want to interrupt. I've asked people to turn down the TV or watch it in their room. They trip over my computer cord. I move my 'stuff' from the kitchen table then back again depending on mealtime. I've been known to write in the downstairs bathroom in order to have a little quiet, think clearly and complete a thought. 

Not fair to them. Not fair to me.

So I'm setting out to transform the tiny office upstairs. When the room was built for the former owners of this house, it apparently worked well for them and their home business, but it doesn't work at all well for me.

For one thing it's PINK. I've occasionally been described as a 'girly' girl and for a very long time my favorite color was pink. The other day, in fact, I returned home with a bright pink rain jacket to wear when I walk and was so very OK about that. Wearing it makes me feel happy and energetic......so I have nothing at all against PINK. But surround me with muted PINK cabinets and walls, PINK wall to wall counter top and a PINK toned vinyl floor and I become nothing but sleepy and distracted. Colors on my computer screen are skewed by light bouncing off the surfaces. Writing seems nearly impossible because......well......I'm surrounded by this set up. Ever since I discovered how well the natural light and backyard view from the kitchen table work for me, I've been planted there in the main center of our home, thinking that was just fine....until I realized it wasn't. 

First I've got to sift through what has found it's way into this office space. Placing things in there began with all good intentions. Important papers were kept in labeled file folders. Photo albums, baby books, journals, computer discs, owners manuals and supplies lived neatly inside cupboards. And then slowly I guess, because I don't remember ever consciously DECIDING to use the room for this....it became a place to put things that I either didn't want to deal with at the moment, or didn't have time to deal with at the moment. At some point I began to avoid opening the door......unless of course I needed to stash something I planned to get to later. Once I found my perch with the nature-view-downstairs-in-the-light, the little upstairs office became stuck in kind of a time warp. And there is the slightest chance that in the last few months, so have I. Until I saw possibility. Then I began to dig in.  

At this point there are piles in the upstairs hallway on either side of the office door. Meaningful piles. Small manageable piles that make this clean out easier to deal with. Whatever happens to be saved from the shredder, the recycling bin or the donation truck is put away for real someplace else in the house. And rather than allowing myself to become overwhelmed by this (very large and involved) task,  I can see how each pile represents an opportunity I've taken during the past few years to hang out with one of my kids, invest in some fun or to take time for some other important responsibility.

Just a few minutes of sifting through paper, photographs and books each day, that's all I'm asking of myself. It should take another week or two, and after that I'm going to give someone a call to find out what it would take to remove the cabinets, counter top and floor. If I can afford it I'll make the window larger in order to have the backyard view I love so much. I'm planning to replace the lighting, find a neutral shade of paint and put a functional desk in there. One of my sons showed me how I could add a few extra feet of workspace by eliminating the linen closet on the other side of the wall. He also helped me visualize a whole new work flow.

Really......this isn't going to be as difficult as I thought.

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

Warmly, Margaret

This Week

This is the email I sent to my mom at 10:09 PM last night:

Hello,

Oh my goodness I have just realized what time it is....and I have missed posting
on my blog for only the second time in 15 months. I guess having the boys home
and helping them out has caught up with me. I will do it tomorrow.

On a funny note: yesterday I went on a long walk with my walking group. 5.6
miles, up and down so many hills. I was very tired when we stopped at Starbucks
for coffee.....so much so that I didn't even realize I had gone into the men's
bathroom until I was quite a few steps back out. I even wondered why the seat was up, which should have
been a good solid clue.  In fact, as I was exiting I saw a woman coming out of the other bathroom
.......(which at the time I could only assume was the men's, of course, not knowing that I
had just come out of it) and I kind of judged her for not being able to wait. At
some point I put two and two together.

Goodnight,

Love, Marg

~~~~~

I fill my mom in on certain incidents like this partly because she raised five children and I know she can relate, and partly because I know she will laugh with me. Thank goodness.

Now that the boys are gone, I keep myself busy. I've paid attention to prioritizing the ways I want to spend my time and taken advantage of the amount of time that I now have. The past couple of weeks have served as a reminder of just how busy being a mom can be. And just how different the 'busy' is depending whether the boys are home or not.

At this point in my empty nest I've developed a regular routine. Certain days mean certain things. College breaks and vacations are on the calendar and mentally and otherwise prepared for well in advance. For some reason (even though I knew about them somewhat in advance) the hospital visits, doctors appointments and meal prep of the last couple of weeks threw me.

And there you have it: This is the only explanation I can come up with about why I inadvertently missed my Wednesday post or why I would have unknowingly chosen the men's room.

Wishing you a wonderful week and weekend ahead!

Warmly, Margaret

In Training

This past week I made an incredibly spicy gumbo with chicken thighs and okra, which was followed by a visit to an Italian restaurant the following night. I chopped, simmered and pureed my way into pots of Potato, Carrot and Cheddar, and then Split Pea Minus-The-Ham soups. I discovered that dinner with three smooth side dishes (Pureed Roasted Cauliflower,  Sweet Potatoes Whipped with Butter and Maple Syrup, and Russet Potatoes Mashed with Sour cream) is actually kind of fun for the palate.

I baked loaves of Banana Bread with no nuts and a 9x13 dish of Pumpkin Custard. Stocked the refrigerator with tubs of store bought pudding and the freezer with boxes of popsicles. At some point I became concerned about the sugar intake of our household but attempted to make myself feel better by taking into account the amount of fiber served. (I so want to believe this makes a difference.....)

A few intentionally spicy meals with lots of texture and then a weeks worth of ones that slid down easily. Cooking this week has been a fun and interesting challenge.

~~~~~

I sat in the waiting room of the hospital and the waiting room of the doctors office. In the curtained off pre-op and the post-op rooms. I tried to ask helpful questions, but not too many. I made conscious choices about where to physically place myself in the above spaces and thought a lot about what it means to be the parent of a child in their mid-twenties versus one in their teens or younger. I played Words With Friends, watched a few movies and sat in on occasional episodes of Mad Men during the apparent viewing marathon that played around here.

I tried hard to find the line between helping out too much and too little. Between giving unnecessary advice and not enough. Between stepping in and stepping back. There was a lot of ruminating on my part regarding what used to be, what is now and what will be. I continued to return to my current theme of  "Have I (We) Taught Them Everything They Need To Know In Order To Get Along In This Great Big World?" I still evaluate, re-evaluate and try to make sure.

One of the boys had his tonsils out last week. Believe it or not, I may be repeating and adjusting to certain elements of the above scenario in just a few days with a different son.

During the waiting, the chopping, cooking, stirring and pureeing, I've had some time and inclination to think. There is nothing quite like squarely facing the adulthood of your offspring that nudges you to consider your own.

I am......as they are......still in training.

Wishing you a warm and wonderful weekend, where ever you may be!

Margaret

Cool.

So, a couple of days ago I was sitting around with my nineteen year old and two of his friends. We're in Montana for the week, and since where we stay is within sight of Big Mountain, the three of them made the drive north for the weekend to get some time in on their boards. After sharing cool stories about a great day spent taking advantage of fresh, deep powder, and right in front of his friends, he very coolly said, "Hey Mom...if an old band comes to Seattle, you and dad should let me know and I can come home so we can all go together."

I  looked up from my knitting......which may or may not be interpreted as a cool activity by this crowd......and said, "Like how old?"

He answered without hesitation. "Bruce Springsteen or James Taylor. You know....someone that you and dad would want to go see."

Did you catch that, too?? My son just offered to go see The Boss with me?! And later on that day, I overheard him mention the same thing to his dad.  And all with a smile on his face. Not an ounce of holding back for the benefit of his friends.

This empty nest thing....this having kids leave home thing: I sure hope I haven't made it seem any easier than it really is. I sure hope that because I've enjoyed sharing the good parts....the parts that make my eyes tear up with pride and my heart nearly burst with love, that I have in any way sugar-coated the experiences involved. Because it IS difficult.  Even when I know without a doubt that each of my boys are doing exactly what it is that they should be doing......whatever it is that they NEED to do be doing......to become the autonomous, self reliant, independently functioning adults that they are supposed to become, it is still sometimes difficult.

Put simply: No matter how logically I understand that life is moving forward as it should......and that this moving forward is all normal, right and good......it still kind of sucks (I actually don't LIKE that word, but sometimes it just fits) when your kids grow up and leave home. When they now live far away and you pretty much know they aren't thinking about you even one one-millionth of the number of times you are thinking about them. And worrying about them. And of course, they shouldn't be.

And it makes you wonder: Will we stay close? Become close again? Even closer? What will our relationship be like now? What will it evolve into in the future? To what extent will I, his dad, his family, remain a part of his life? Will any of them ever think I know what I'm talking about? That some of my advice is actually pretty good?

At my most patient, I quietly stand back, observe and feel proud. I allow and encourage the process to unfold as the universe intends. At my most anxious, I want to call or text or give helpful suggestions or ask helpful questions in order to grasp hold of just how this 'growing up-and-becoming-an-adult-thing' is progressing so far.  Sometimes I want up to the minutes details. Personally, I think I'm doing great at remaining on the 'patient observer' side of the line. I'm pretty sure, however, that each of my boys thinks I ask far too many questions.

So back to Bruce.......

"Hmmmm, " I nodded.

"Sounds great.........." I said, while attempting to still remain somewhere within the boundaries of cool. While forcing a too-big smile from escaping and ruining the moment. While holding myself back from running up the stairs and spilling to Marc that 'if an acceptably good concert comes to Seattle, our kid just offered in front of his friends to come all the way home and go rock out with his parents!! And if an acceptably good concert DOES come to Seattle, should we have him drive home or fly? Oh and by the way...... he's been wearing the hat I knit for him for Christmas and even told his friends that I made
it!!........."

But I managed to stay there.....within those boundaries.....

Sometimes this empty nest thing......it's not so bad. As it turns out, they still want to be  a part of the nest, they just need some time and space in order to figure that out.
  
Wishing you a wonderful week in your own nest....wherever that may be.

Warmly,

Margaret

Ice. Warmth.

The  beautiful snow that fell earlier in the week is melting. We knew it couldn't last! There was one full day when fluffy flakes turned to freezing rain then back to flakes again. All of the precipitation, freezing and thawing turned into probably the biggest ice storm our area has ever seen. Trees became encased in ice and snapped from the weight of it all. Branches and needles were littered about. Roads were a mess. 300,000 homes, as well an abundance of businesses, were without power.

Local stations kept news broadcasts on throughout the entire day instead of switching to regular programing, highlighting constantly changing conditions and how to stay safe. Lists of roadways hampered by fallen trees and downed power lines followed the typical reports of accidents and spinouts. Weather reports contained forecasts laced with encouragement about when all of this might be over.....but not before a flood watch and wind advisory alert.

It was all a bit frightening. Trees cracked and popped. Large branches landed with huge thuds. I stopped taking the above photos and decided stayed inside for the rest of the day when I realized what was happening in our yard, then called Marc to let him know I was worried about one of our trees and to be careful on his way home.

 And on that very day.......and I just have to say, against my better judgement......Joey and his friend insisted on making their way back to Missoula across three mountain passes and two states with severe weather issues of their own.

I will also say that once again I was reminded there is goodness and wonder everywhere. Ice crystals formed beautiful shapes around clusters of pine needles. The local grocery store and Starbucks......the only ones open and with power for miles......teamed with friendly people. All chattering and shaking their heads. Sharing their stories. Good friends sent texts and worried about my boy with me. Another offered to take care of our dog if the place we intended to board him was still without power on the day we planned to leave town. Several facebook friends who had not lost power offered to share a warm meal and place to stay with those in need.

It's good to be reminded about the power of nature. The power of friendship. The goodness of those in our lives.

Wishing you a warm, safe and wonderful weekend.

Warmly, Margaret

Snowfall

It snowed lightly yesterday on and off. Joey was supposed to head back to Montana but the necessity to close Snoqualmie Pass for most of the day kept him home. There was some left over snowfall on side streets and in neighborhoods from this past weekends storm , but most of the main roads were clear so I headed out and accomplished as many errands as I could fit in. Added a few more things to the already pretty full fridge. Put gas is in the tank. Stopped in at the yarn store. I was mostly happy to have made my hair appointment before the BIG storm moved in.

Today, it's been snowing for hours.......just like I'd hoped. Just as the weather forecasters had predicted. Today we received a wallop of a snowstorm.

Snow is piling high on patio furniture and plant pots and  frosting evergreens and ferns. Fence posts and bushes have donned tall hats. Trees previously undressed by fall are now wearing winter garb: In shimmering gowns and full length gloves of white, each branch is outlined, highlighted, made visible...... the crystalline fabric hiding nothing.

I don't know how long this will last.....it is supposed to turn to rain soon, but until then, I'm going to enjoy every peaceful minute.

Wishing you a wonderful week. Stay safe in this winter weather......wherever you are!

Warmly,

Margaret

Hoping For A Snow Day.......

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls

 The prediction around here for the next few days is suggesting snow, beginning possibly as early as this evening. Living in the Pacific Northwest, the mention of even a few flakes in the lowlands is cause for a somewhat heady mix of alarm and excitement. Radio and television stations tease with short bites of information. They want us to stay tuned in.....and mostly we do. When gray skies turn white and the drizzle that is winter turns fluffy......we Pacific North-westerners pay attention. 

I grew up and lived for many years in Eastern Washington. Here, on the other side of the state, we call that 'east of the mountains'. The Cascade Range and it's peaks asymmetrically divide our state in two, keeping Pacific Ocean clouds and moisture sort of backed up and stuck on this side of the range. The 'west side' has more rain and a milder climate. We are cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter, while 'east of the mountains' has more distinct markers that herald the changing of the seasons. For snow or sun......many of us head east (or might I add, north to Canada) for the day, the weekend or the week. (I should note here that this has been a particularly beautiful winter here on the west side so far, with little rain and far more sunny days that normal!)

I will acknowledge that the above description of our seasonal weather patterns is somewhat lacking. I was only attempting to illustrate that, although we may have a lowland snowstorm here once or twice a season, wind and rainstorms are the norm.  I have now lived on the west side of this state over twice as long as I did the more seasonal east side. You would think that I might have grown up a bit by now and be grumbling at the mention of the possibility of cold, icy roads and poor driving conditions. But the truth is, the mention of the possibility of snow brings out the Eastern Washington kid in me. I will ignore those who complain, put on a pot of soup and watch it fall. Or pull on warm boots and a puffy coat and go outside.

When the boys were younger, I secretly welcomed snow days. I loved whispering in the still dark early morning doorways of their rooms that they had a surprise day off from school. I loved the four of us stuck here with books and movies, hot chocolate and Legos. I loved their red cheeks after a few hours playing in the yard, rolling up balls as big as they could and then searching for decorations for the one snowman they might be able to build all year. That there is a storm water storage basin a short block away where they could meet up with friends for an afternoon of sledding.

I'm often without a car on days that the white stuff is falling. Since mine handles best up and down slippery hills there are no other ways around, and since I can do what I do from home.....and since I've often planned ahead for food......Marc takes it back and forth to work and that's OK with me. Now that the boys are older and live other places during most of the winter, I email photos of our smiling Golden Retriever, hair clumped with white, after some play time outside. Or shots of bare tree branches turned lacy in our yard. These days I enjoy the peaceful beauty of a snow day and use it as inspiration for knitting or baking or picking up my camera.

It might snow tonight and for the next few days. I hope the weather forecasters aren't just teasing me. I have a full refrigerator and pantry. I have a knitting project, an empty card in my camera and a great book I'm in the middle of. Bring it on...... please!

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

Warmly,
Margaret

9 AM, Sunday, January 15, 2011: Big, fluffy flakes are falling! Breakfast is just about on the table , but hoping to get outside afterward.

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls

As a youngster coming home from school, I was occasionally greeted by the scent of  banana bread before I even hit the steps leading up to the back door. Once inside I knew I'd find a couple loaves resting on the counter......because "there were some bananas turning black and I didn't want to waste them."  On another day I might see a pie cooling on a rack and be informed, "I had a little sour cream so I made a raisin pie." Short sentences or comments casually uttered years ago by one or the other of my parents surface every once in awhile, which I realize, still make a difference in my days. Remembering this makes me hope that I've provided my boys with useful snippets of conversation to take away for their futures, especially knowing how they squirm at the mention of a 'few suggestions', a 'talk' or worse yet a lecture. (I try hard not to............)

Remember last week when I made Pumpkin Gingersnap Ice Cream? Since the recipe only called for one cup of pumpkin puree, and since I only had a large can of it in the pantry, I ended up with a leftover bowl in the fridge. Not wanting to waste, I planned at some point to make muffins with the remainder. As I set out to do so yesterday morning....thinking that the scent would be kind of a nice thing for the two boys I still have at home to wake up to (not to mention the finished product.....the ones I make have chocolate chips in them....) I became side tracked by a memory of a recipe for Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls rattling around in my brain. Once it popped in there, I couldn't seem to let it and the fact that I want to become more successful with my yeast dough baking go, so I searched my cookbooks to find one. I finally chose one from AllRecipes.com.

Although it took a bit longer than muffins would have, I was more than happy with the finished product. The extra time I hadn't planned to spend baking was worth it. I didn't waste leftover ingredients. The scent of cinnamon, ginger and cloves that wafted up the stairs, may have been even more delicious and tempting than the pumpkin chocolate chip muffins I intended to make. I happened to have all of the ingredients on hand (including a can of evaporated milk....which I normally wouldn't have around except for the recent holidays). Working with yeast dough, which has always been a little awkward for me, most likely due to my lack of practice, seemed a bit easier.......less awkward this time.

I remembered some things. I learned some things.

Here is a link to the recipe I used: Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls. My computer is in the shop (again), but I'll come back and post a couple of photos here on Monday. 

Some notes:
 - I made 'pumpkin pie spice' by mixing together the spices I would normally use when making two pies into a small bowl. Two tsp went into the dough, then enough cinnamon was added to what was left over to make two tbsp for the filling.
 - I baked the rolls for 30 minutes, but they could have used another five or maybe ten.
 - I didn't have cream cheese in the house, so made a buttercream frosting and added a bit of almond extract to it as well as the vanilla called for.

Wishing you a Wonderful Weekend!

Warmly, Margaret

PS. Have you noticed I've made a shift from Tues/Fri posts to Wed/Sat posts? I'm not even sure how or why that happened! Probably due to one extra-busy day during the holiday season......and then it seemed to stick. I'll still be posting twice a week on what ever combination of days that seem to work best this year. Thank you so much for reading and for checking in! XO

About Giving and Receiving

Giving and receiving gifts, to me, is not about quantity or expense.  It is about time and thoughtfulness and appreciation. It is about looking for and finding.  About saying 'it makes me very happy to know that you have this'.

More than one special person let me know, "I had a lot of fun picking out your gift this year." This sentiment was a gift in and of itself ......knowing that someone enjoyed the process! Hearing it reminded me once again how much I, too, enjoy the giving. The connections that deepen with each choice made, wrapped and presented.

I appreciate that my parents know that ice cream and chocolate in pretty dishes makes us happy.  The cookbook, the finished novel, the homemade wine, the box of handpicked micro brews, the indoor garden planted in a dish that were presented to us. The cards that hold photographs and stories and sentiments. The gifts of homemade candy, jam or snacks left at our door. The thoughtfulness of something chosen to make a portion of each day easier......sweeter. Something that helps to get me where I want to go. That says 'join in' or 'this made me think of you.'

At this time of year, I'm so very thankful for the people in my life. The ones that bring warmth or comfort or a sense of excitement through the door, in the mail, over the Internet or on the phone. Those that understand what I might want, need or dream about. I'm thankful for those willing to share some of themselves and what they dream about.  Those I'm just getting to know and who make the effort in return.

As the New Year approaches, wishing you a wonderful week ahead!

With warmth and appreciation,

Margaret

It's That Week Of The Season

 

It's that week of the season where my 'to do' list is filled with 'have nots'.
As in, I have not yet:

Finished baking all of the Christmas cookies I had planned to.
Put together a platter of said cookies for Marc to bring in to his office.
Addressed the last of the Christmas cards.
Written a letter to enclose with the cards.
Finished two of the hats I want to make.
Picked up the remainder of the stocking stuffers on my list.
Wrapped the last three gifts.
Planned Christmas breakfast.
Planned Christmas Eve dinner.
Planned Christmas dinner.
Delivered a gift to my friend and her daughter.
Found gifts for the pets.
Shopped at Costco for the final time
Vacuumed this week.

So, this is what I plan to do today:

Relax.
Take a much needed nap.
Enjoy the tree and our decorations.
Go to dinner with Marc and the boys, after which we will see the Nutcracker.
Celebrate our wedding anniversary.
Forget about baking until the week after Christmas.
Catch up with Joey, Peter (and Lewis, the dog) who are now home.
Prepare for Patrick to come home.
Mail cards without an enclosed letter.
Cross whatever is not absolutely necessary off my list. (The pets won't have a clue if they don't get a treat Christmas morning and I'm pretty sure the stockings will do.)

Christmastime is too special to become stressed out. There are four days left....... I plan to enjoy them. I hope that you do to.

Wishing you some meaningful days ahead. XO

Warmly,
Margaret

This Time Of Year

This time of year......

Busy.  Fun.  Exhausting.  Joyful.

Earlier in the week Marc strung lights around the outside of our house and onto some of the landscaping in front. He placed the lit wire moose (my favorite holiday item) in between two of the ancient maples in back. Last night we got our tree. This weekend we will finish decorating and look forward to the boys arrival one by one.

This past Sunday we met up with some family for a lovely holiday brunch at Volterra. The rest of them sipped Peach Thyme Bellinis, while I sipped coffee. I know the breakfast cocktails would have just made me sleepy, but I did take a taste before my order of chestnut pancakes came to the table, and they were delicious.

Afterward, we took a walk through the Ballard Farmer's Market, one of the few local outdoor markets that I know of that operate at this time of year. We wandered in and out of the interesting and eclectic mix of shops in Ballard. Noted a few gift ideas. Picked up a few things.  There were carolers under a gazebo where the streets meet up. The passing shoppers were chatty and festive. A friend commented that it seemed like a scene out of a Christmas movie.

This week I will bake and put the finishes touches on gifts that I'm making. I'll wrap and pack boxes and ship. I will hope to finish up the shopping I still have left to do and plan to figure out a Christmas card, photo and letter.

I'll visit with friends. Exchange cookies. Hand deliver a few gifts. Hopefully make time to watch It's A Wonderful Life. Light Advent candles, take a deep breath and try to remember what this time of year is all about. It's the Christmas season and I can't escape the work and busy-ness...nor would I want to. But I also want to be sure to appropriately reflect. To remember to pay attention to why we do all that we do to celebrate.

 (A note: The ornaments pictured above can be found in Souvenir on Ballard Avenue. They are handmade, unique and exquisitely beautiful. Any photograph could not do them justice! The photographs were taken inside of the shop with the owner's permission.)

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

XO Margaret

The Day After

This year Thanksgiving dinner was just the five of us. All of the extended family was out of town and no relatives came into town. I told the boys to be sure to invite anyone that they knew who didn't have a place to go......but, it seems, that everyone did. I shouldn't say 'just us'. Although I missed the family and the liveliness of a crowd, the day was nice and low key. We all had a chance to come together and catch up.

I have to say, I enjoy the day after a holiday. Maybe it's because I function as the head planner and cook. When all of the preparations are finished and the the meal has been served and cleaned up, I can put my feet up and appreciate the holiday in a different sort of way.

No one except Marc had to work the day after this year, and he was home by about 10 AM.  The rest of us slept in and stayed in our pajamas for as long as we felt like it. Ate a left-over lunch and then went to a late afternoon movie. In a couple of days everyone will be back at work or at school. I'm so thankful they all made it home.

 And now...... Christmas preparations begin........ 

Wishing you a wonderful weekend and safe travels for your loved ones.

Warmly,

Margaret