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At last, as I hoped, we received our best snow well into spring, two storms in one week, beautifully blanketing the land, finally whitening our most revered neighbor, and sending Juni B. into paroxysms of glee!
I, this morning, with remnants of meals past, made a most delicious bread pudding, not quite in celebration, because it wasn’t as deliberate as that, but certainly elevating the mood of the day.
Our dearest Colorado Springs friends trekked all the way across the street for a day of fun. I made chicken noodle soup for lunch, but it was difficult for everyone to eat because there were cookies RIGHT there and waiting to be decorated!
I decorated each cookie to order and could scarcely keep up with demand. More Colleen, more!! L only wanted pink frosting, E only wanted blue, and C (giving his best thumb’s up) only wanted white. Though they were each pleased with a wide variety of sugar and jimmy sprinkles.
Post cookie sugar coma. E was asleep with his eyes open, not watching television. I kid you not.
All done…
A super fun day!
I don’t know that I’ve ever told you that I am a gleaner. A spotter and collector of edibles, mostly fruits. Yesterday, while out with the hubster at the hardware store to buy a post hole digger (Oh, yeah! We dig.), I spied a passel of trees heavy with tiny apples. I’d seen them other places, but this was somewhat less conspicuous than collecting them at the library. So, while the hubster shopped, I picked. They were mostly overripe, so I didn’t get as many as I would have liked, but enough to try a batch of jelly. I hadn’t made jelly before, generally preferring jams and other whole fruit preserves. It’s a bit more labor intensive, as I forgot to document the step where I strain what is essentially apple sauce in a drawstring bag dangling (by tying it to a broom handle balanced on dining chairs – fancy!) over a glass bowl. In this case, it was WELL worth the effort. It is as delicious as it is beautiful, slightly tart and fragrant, the skins of the apple turning it that marvelous color! I’m calling it, with a serious nod to my 80s roots, Pretty in Pink.
Grandpa, are you ready for a jar?
I think, perhaps, one of the best things in this life is to rise early and walk or hike or bike, while the world is mostly still and mostly quiet, and the sun hasn’t yet reached its zenith, steam rising, plants dewy, the air redolent of pine and damp earth. This, of course, is made even better if one is accompanied by the dearest of dear friends and kisses and hugs are exchanged, hands held, and exultations are made about beauty and luck and fine art (Patrick Dougherty) and wild scents on the breeze.
Follow this with a trip to the market, small batch jam making, strawberry and the best peach ever, the reading of books while enjoying the gentlest of window breezes, before an early bed-time, and you have, my dear peeps, the makings of a most perfect day. Yes, you do.
Oh, and Happy Birthday America!!
Tags: Colorado
Today is my Grandma’s birthday. I am dancing to Motown and baking Biscochitos, some of her favorite cookies, in between great belly laughs at our shared memories and hearty sobs that she is not alive. Since I cannot call her to say Happy Birthday and am glad she was born, I talk to her in my head. I tell her that I miss her and that I love these pictures, that they capture her spirit and make me glad to have known her for so long. I tell her that I am well and the hubster, too. The neighbors put up their holiday lights, and the block looks so pretty. I tell her that it is raining, and November in Pittsburgh was the warmest since the Hoover Administration. I wonder, how old were you then? A teenager, maybe? Oh, and I’m trying something a little different with the cookies. Hopefully they’ll turn out the way I am anticipating. I’ll let you know. I love you, Grandma. Have a great day…
