Baby Turnips

 Despite the disappointment of the peas, the fall garden DOES have some really nice things happening, and turnips are among them. 

These are some baby ones we pulled to thin our row of purple-topped globe turnips. Jack cooked these whole in the InstantPot with a double-handful of ham-hock flibberts, and they were delicious.

With cornbread.

The Great 2021 Pea Patch Disaster

Maybe I bragged too much about my beautiful, wonderful, perfect peas and jinxed them.

Because GodLord, they're now miserably miserable. Two three teepees'worth have completely given up.

When they fell off the supports, slumping toward the fence instead of growing upward, I lied to myself and said they were just confused, redirecting them, lovingly tying their sad arms to the teepee.  

They aren't confused; they are dying. 

The soil in that bed is heavy and not ideal for peas, which I knew from the get-go, but I sincerely believed my enthusiasm and good seeds would overcome dank and fungus and too many gravels and too much shade. We grew nice tomatoes in this same bed during the summer, but my pea crop is proof that "good dirt" for one thing isn't "good dirt" for all things. 

The snow peas along the fence aren't as near-death as the snap peas on the teepees, but they're close. They look OK at the roots, but have developed what appears to be powdery mildew, and other thing I worried about from the get-go. 

We had okra in that bed all summer, and by the time I planted peas in late August, the leaves on the okra plants were completely consumed with mildew. The plants were still producing, but they were sick and looked horrible with shriveled, powder-covered leaves. I probably should have held off on planting peas until those were torn out and dragged off, but again, I believed in my enthusiasm. 

Now, the pea plants are consumed with leaf mold or dying of dank dirt cooties, and my incredible effort in the pea patch goes down as just that: incredible effort. 

Oh well, lessons learned...

In the next few days, I'm pulling those peas out, dis-assembling the teepees, and regrouping for another attempt at "pea-topia" for Spring 2022.

Pea Porn

 

Y'all are probably going to get tired of hearing about these peas before I get tired of talking about them. 

Or eating them.

Or taking pictures of them. 

Peas of Mine

 

(Peas may or may not be shown actual size)

Get it? Peas of mine... peace of mind... 

No? 

Maybe I'm not as clever as I tell myself I am, but it's a better effort than I expected when I sat down to type this brisk fall evening. 

Y'all might remember when I planted about a thousand peas on the hottest day of late August - the 27th to be exact - and predicted the first harvest on or about October 20th. Well, this is it. 

This is actually a third of it, because somebody called ME kept eating precious tasty pods as soon as I picked them, because they are 100% as delicious as I want them to be. These are little, but I had to have something to show for myself for the on-time harvest, right?

I'm trying not to brag too much or be too proud of the way the fall garden project is coming along, because deer, rabbits, raccoons, groundhogs, squirrels, and stuff I don't even know to worry about could eat it all to the ground in a single evening. 

Aside from that, the garden is on the edge of a walnut grove and might be susceptible to jugalone poisoning, which I'd never heard of until we had a bunch of stuff planted already. Here's an article about it from The Morton Arboretum if you're interested:

https://mortonarb.org/plant-and-protect/tree-plant-care/plant-care-resources/black-walnut-toxicity/#!

Back to the peas, though. 

After I picked those, I harvested the last bit of okra - six tiny, blotchy, mildew'ish pods - and said goodbye to the gigantic stalks Dad and I grew over the summer. Some were more than 2 inches in diameter at the ground and grew tall - 7 to 8 feet tall and were GENEROUS with the pods they gave us. They were beautiful in their prime but had gotten spindly and piddling in recent weeks with a frosting of powdery mildew on the larger plants. I worried about that stuff spreading to the pea plants before I could get them whacked-out and dragged-off.

This sheet pan dinner included both, so I guess you could call it a transition in seasons with the last of summer and the first of fall on the same plate. The peppers were from the garden and the other things, carrots (always carrots), mushrooms (ALWAYS mushrooms), and broccoli, from the store, it was perfectly delicious over some brown rice.

(Peas were added at the end to keep them lively. Throw them on, cut the heat, wait 5 minutes, PERFECT.)

Fall Break with Lu and Bea

Beatrice and Lucia visited Mom and Dad on the farm for part of their fall break last week, and spending time with them was wondrous. I don't use that word very often, but when I do I mean it *THIS BIG*. Shew! Some of y'all know how much I miss them on the regular, especially when I haven't seen them since July. 

OR SIS!! 

Beatrice arrived a day earlier than Lucia and enjoyed having "run of the place," as the old-timers say.

She did "miss her Sis," because that's how it works with sisters in this family and was glad to see Lucia on Tuesday. 

The next day, Jack and I loaded them up and carried them for some dorking around - that's what we call it - at Rock Island State Park. LOVE that place. I'm sad that our family didn't know about it when we were growing up, because it's a beautiful state park almost literally in our back yard. 

Anyhoo - 

Here are some photos I took during their visit: 

Beatrice

Beatrice and NanNan

Lu and Bea with an American beauty berry bush at Rock Island State Park.

Lu and Bea at the spring house at Rock Island State Park

Girls at Great Falls 

Girls at Great Falls

Beatrice doing a perfect cartwheel. Look at those sweet pink toes!!!

Garden Update, Up a Ladder, Other Stuff

Is everybody surviving pumpkin spice and decorative gourd season? 

Have you worn a sweater because it's October and we're supposed to? Are y'all OK? 😅

God help me, I've used an emoji in a blog post, but so what? Traffic through this joint is so sluggish that stooping to smilie use probably isn't going to kill my monthly visitor count of "about 5." 

I would put another one here, but no - too much.

Fall rolls on, but my sweaters are still in the closet. 

The garden is coming along nicely, if I do say so myself. This is what it looked after Jack and I finished prepping for the rain we got early last week.

From left to right, we've got purple-top turnips, broccoli, early wonder beets, French breakfast radishes/Nantes carrots/white icicle radishes (interplanted into layered row), bok choy, three kinds of branching broccoli, Georgia collards, cabbage, and cherry belle radishes/Detroit beets interplanted.

Dad said to plant enough to share with the critters - there's a den with at least three generations of groundhogs less than 50 yards from where I stood to take this picture - so I did. Especially if they like radishes.

So far, knock on wood, we haven't had problems with pests other than weeds. 

Two days after the Hurricane Ida rains passed, morning glories, wild violets, and all manner of grass came for us, but I threw down like a rug on fire with our little electric tiller, Jack muscled a hoe until damn-near-dark, and we got everything in order before the last batch of rain moved through.

The pea patch I talked about last time is still plugging along and will hopefully give us some goodies in just a couple more weeks. Blooms are here.

We've also got a bed for a gazillion turnip greens, a bed of spinach and (crossed-fingers) artichokes come spring, and a bed for bulb fennel, because fennel has no friends and needs its own private space. 

Now we wait. And weed and wait some more. And weed some more. And wait.

What else has been going on?

Carpentry and power tools is what!

Dad's been wanting to complete the finish-work on the back porch he and Mom had built this time last year and hit me up to help him out with it. He helped me craft a bread peel from red oak in the spring, and I demonstrated appropriate safety and basic competence in using the power tools, so I got invited back for another round. 

I don't have any pictures of that, but I should add some, because we did AWESOME, and the finished product is A+. I got checked off on the mitre saw and demonstrated my competence with the nail gun. We worked hard for two days, and I had to <gasp> climb the ladder, and some of y'all know how I feel about climbing more than a step stool. It's all good, though, but wow! 

"MY FEET FEEL BROKEN!" I chatted to my friend Matt. 

"You were up a ladder, silly," he immediately countered, like I completely failed to put two and two together.

Well, duh.

Anyway, I dealt with my fear of falling from a ladder and breaking my bones into pieces, got more experience using a nail gun (which is fun and you need to try it), and hung with two of my favorite people. PLUS, the porch looks GREAT!!

Sunset at the farm

10/07/2021

Fall Garden, Dr. Jason Martin, and Everything is Fine

Happy fall, y'all! 

It's here, too. I stepped outside with Josie a little bit ago, and it's downright chipper. The harvest moon from earlier in the week still looks mostly full, and I had a hard time getting back to sleep at 3:00 this morning because so much moonlight was streaming into our bedroom. There were moonshadows on the wall! Aside from the insomnia and the cats all-hours playfulness, it's a cool experience. 

Since the last time I wrote anything here, Jack and I have jumped head and ears into planting a fall garden. For years now, October comes around, and I'm sad that we have no snap peas planted. This year I got on the stick and planted a BUNCH of peas the last week in August. Four varieties. Some are doing better than others, but all-in-all, I'm pleased with the outcome of the ones that are making it and determined to have make the best of the situation. I ordered seeds from two different sources and am pleasantly surprised to have almost 100% germination of the seeds we purchased from Botanical Interests, a newish company in Colorado. If you need seeds, check them out.

In addition to peas, we have turnips and beets, radishes, broccoli, cabbage (we think - it may have been mislabeled), carrots, collards, bok choy, more broccoli, turnips for greens, fennel, and all kinds of salad greens.

Ambitious, yes. Hopeful, yes. Vulnerable, yes. To weeds, which are growing like freaking gangbusters and maybe rabbits, because half of the beets are MIA already, and the first round of radishes look spindly. Dad says we may not have used enough fertilizer, so inexperience is another weak spot, but before the next rain, I plan on getting some close consultation from him about fertilizing specifics for  whatever is still kicking when the garden dries out enough for us to at least walk across it.

I tried to do some assessment and planning today, but yikes, the earth stuck to my hoe and I nearly got the truck stuck in the earth. 

It's fine, though, I tell myself. Everything is fine. 

I also tell myself that same stuff about the COVID pandemic, which continues to rage, especially in red states like Tennessee with governors like Bill Lee who are fine with letting their people die, because they know they can use it against Democrats in the mid-term elections of 2022, but again, 

it's fine. 

On Wednesday of last week, I joined some DeKalb County friends and neighbors in welcoming Dr. Jason Martin to town. He's an ICU physician from Hendersonville who's announced his candidacy for the Democratic nomination for Tennessee governor next year. His main priority is moving us past the pandemic into solid economic territory for the benefit of middle, working class folks and families with children. He supports Medicaid expansion and is outraged that since Bill Lee was elected in 2018, fourteen rural Tennessee hospitals have closed leaving thousands of people without a place to go for emergencies in their home communities. He and his wife have three school-age children, daughters, so both strong public education and abortion rights are important to him. He talked about the importance of rural broadband and providing infrastructure services to people in counties like DeKalb and talked knowledgeably and respectfully about the effectiveness of rural phone and electric cooperatives. 

The only thing I didn't like about him were his pants. 

  

COVID19: Words on a Saturday Evening

As much as I thought we probably weren't out of the woods when I stopped my routine "COVID 19"-themed posts back in the spring, I clung to hope that people would be responsible enough to get the vaccine and wear masks around other people to minimize the destruction of this mess.

Nope. Right now, DeKalb County's vaccination rate is closer to 25% than 30. Our numbers are back up. We currently have 90'ish active cases.

A bunch of folks are ready tell you that they're just being smart and not falling for any of that science stuff. Because those science people will trick you with facts and truth. 

They've done their own research. They've googled and googled and googled some more until they found an obscure something-or-other to support their specific belief. 

Others have decided they won't give Joe Biden and Democrats the satisfaction of surviving the pandemic and are willing to die - or allow their children to die - for the spite of it. 

A Few Words about These Vegetables

How gorgeous are these veggies?

Dad and I grew some of them, too. The squash and okra are homegrown. So are the tomatoes, but I forgot to put any of them on the board for the photo. I'll have to share some of those on a different post which reminds me that I DO need to tell you about tomatoes. Not today. 

The beautiful red pepper is from Griffin's Produce in S'ville. The beets and brocco are from Food Lion, and everything else is part of a minor haul from Aldi last week when I had business in Cookeville. 

Note: Aldi always has the deal on Brussels sprouts. They're always a dollar a pound cheaper than the ones and WalMart and a heck of a lot fresher.

The beautiful knife is from New West Knifeworks of Jackson Hole, Wyoming and a splurge I bought with Christmas money. It's all handmade, perfectly balanced, and what can only be described as surgically sharp. It's fancier than any kind of knife I ever thought I'd want, and I honestly don't know when in 2020 I started wanting it, but I did. The 25% off after-Christmas sale got my attention and my money for the last blue utility knife they had in stock. 

It came in a box within a box with a strip of warning tape across the top which read "VERY SHARP - USE EXTREME CAUTION" and was serious enough that the first thing I encountered inside was a 4-pack of complimentary bandaids printed with the same warning. Knock on wood, I haven't had to use them, because I'm super careful about my fingertips and everything else while slicing and dicing with this sharp guy. 

Truth be told, though, when it comes to cooking dinner every night, my go-to knife is a Tramotina all-metal 8" chef's knife which, along with a paring knife and a slicing knife, came as a freebie with our cookware. It sharpens easily with one of those things with the slits and has a nice wide blade. I can hack up a pile of veggies and not worry about a repeat of the mandolin incident. 

The mandolin incident, in case you're wondering, is exactly what you think. Jack got a mandolin slicer for Christmas, and the first time I used it, I immediately whacked my thumb and was bleeding all over the kitchen by the time Jack yelled, "Be careful, it's sharp!" from the other room. 

What you see here became a delicious, nutritious sheet pan dinner one night last week. 

Cranberry - Orange Oatmeal Cookies

14 T (a stick + 6 T) softened butter

3/4 cup brown sugar (light or dark is fine)

1/2 to 3/4 cup white sugar (more sugar = thinner cookies with a crispier edge)

3/4 cup AP flour

3/4 cup whole wheat flour (if you prefer, use either all AP or all WW - recipe works fine both ways)

1 t baking powder

1/4 t baking soda

1 t cinnamon

1 t dried orange zest OR the zest of one fresh orange (I use Great Value Organic Orange Peel from WalMart)

pinch salt

2 eggs

1 - 2 t vanilla

1 t orange extract (I use Penzeys Orange Extract, but McCormick, available at WalMart, is very good)

3 cups old fashioned oats

1/2 cup candied orange peel, chopped (I use this kind from Amazon)

1/2 - 3/4 cup dried cranberries 

Mix together flours, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and dry orange zest. (If using fresh zest, add it with the eggs)

Cream butter and sugar in a large bowl until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs and extracts (and fresh orange zest, if that's what you're using) until well incorporated. Add dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon or dough whisk only long enough for the dough to come together, scraping down the sides as needed. Add oats, orange peel, and cranberries and stir meaningfully until those things are evenly distributed through the dough. 

When you're ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 and spoon the dough onto parchment- or silpat-lined sheets leaving 2 - 2 1/2 inches between each mound of dough. Bake a total of 14 - 17 minutes, rotating at the 7 minute mark, until cookies are golden brown. 

I've found that leaving the cookies on the baking sheet for about 3 minutes makes them a bit easier to transfer to a cooling rack, especially if there's whole wheat flour in the mix.

The dough does GREAT with a good chill in the fridge before the scoop-and-bake stuff happens. That's what I did for these chubby little cookies I shared on Facebook. Those also had only 1/2 cup of white sugar in them. 

THESE I baked immediately after mixing together the dough. These also have 3/4 cup white sugar. I was going for a flatter, crispier cookie and got it. They are dynamite. 

Today's lesson: Don't be afraid to play with your sugar. 

New Glasses

I have new glasses, and I love them. 

They're exactly like my old glasses, except they don't have a giant scratch blind-spot across the right lens where the close-up part of the bifocal meets the distance part of the bifocal. 

Hooray!

When I started wearing glasses in December 2018,  I had to leap from nothing to transitional bifocals in a single bound. I'd been buying non-prescription readers like tacos (by the sackful) from Dollar Tree and Amazon for a few years already, because I couldn't read a menu or the nutritional information on food packaging in normal grocery store light without intense magnification and a maybe a spotlight. 

Jack and everybody kept saying, "You need to have your eyes checked," and I mouthed "go to hell," behind their backs, but they were right.

The first day in prescription lenses was rough. I stumbled around the house like a day-drunk with my depth- and spatial-perceptions tenuously adjusting to working through glass. Day two was better, and on the third, I was able to go down the front porch steps without a stick. 

Jack and I got eye exams and needed glasses at the same time, and after hearing/reading rave reviews from trusted friends, we ordered our new spectacles from Zenni. 

I'm not getting into a whole thing about all the ways Zenni is a great place to buy glasses, but Zenni is totally legit, and I love being a customer. Nurses, first responders, firemen, and teachers all get a 10% discount for doing the work nobody else wants to do, so there's that, and if you don't like your glasses, you can send them back for credit on a replacement.

Like I said, I got the same pair "all over again," because I like the way they look and feel, and while I'm not big on people who lay claim to "signature style," I mostly have one, and the cat-eye frames I'm wearing at this moment are part of mine. 

They really are slick, and I really do love them. 

Love My Compression Socks

What can I do to put you into a pair of compression socks today?

Some weeks ago, I read a Cleveland Clinic Vascular Department piece about the benefits of compression socks for people "my age" and immediately trotted over to Amazon to find a mind-blowing selection socks for every budget. Two days later I took delivery on a three-pack in basic black and my transformation into a compression sock devotee began.

I'm familiar with the tightness and general "feel" of compression socks from my years in healthcare. Patients having surgery generally wear medical grade ones throughout their procedures and into the post-op period to prevent blood clots, and I've had to help my share of patients into their stockings. If they're correctly-sized, they're' incredibly snug, but there's something to be said for extreme leg support. 

I've worn super-support pantyhose myself and know how much better everything-from-the-waist-down feels after a busy 12 to 16 hour shift. There's a very valid reason waitresses at Hooters swear by them. 

 

Along the line, I moved into the leadership side of things, worked in an office, and started wearing regular tights and again. I didn't give compression socks or stockings another thought until that Cleveland Clinic article hit my Google newsfeed mid-April'ish. With the persistent pain I have in my knees and ankles and nighttime discomfort which sometimes wakes me up from a dead sleep, giving over-the-counter compression stockings a try was a no-brainer. 

When I say the selection at Amazon was overwhelming, I'm not kidding. Along with solid and expected colors like black, beige, and navy, there are limitless other options. Stripes, plain hearts, rainbow hearts, cats, dogs, dinosaurs, the solar system, tie dye. The growing prevalence of compression socks with the general population means you can get what you want.

The first time I browsed, I grabbed a 5-star-rated three-pack in L/XL based on my shoe size and the circumference of my calf. I was a bit afraid they'd be too tight or uncomfortable because of my calf size, but they worked great from the get-go.

I pulled them on and haven't looked back. I don't wear them absolutely every day, but if I'm going to be either on my feet a lot or planning to for extra exertion, I sock-up. I can absolutely feel a difference when I take them off a the end of the day and my legs don't feel destroyed. Tired? Yes. Ready to rest? Absolutely. Destroyed? No. 

And when bedtime comes, I know I'm probably not going to awaken with cramps in my calves and/or ankles, especially if I've been mindful of my water and sodium intake. 

Click on THESE SOCKS at Amazon when you're ready to order. I ordered some different ones for cheaper, and they didn't work - one of five pair fit but the rest were too tight. 

Mother's Day and More

I've added a photo of myself to the blog. I accidentally took a selfie with the webcam on my Chromebook which didn't look half bad, so I took an on-purpose one which looked a little better. 

Tah-dah! It's not the best photo - the built-in cameras on inexpensive Chromebooks aren't the best, but it's a fairly accurate representation of my current look, so <waves> hi there!!

Yesterday we celebrated Mothers Day on the farm with homemade pizza and an A+ strawberry cake and had a wonderful time visiting with Mom and Dad. Family get-togethers are so much nicer when we can get close enough to hug and actually be inside the house together. 

Lucia was in a school production of the musical "Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" over the weekend, so Mom and Dad went to the matinee and celebrated Mothers Day with Sis, Chris, and the girls in Franklin on Saturday. 

The reviews of the production are RAVE. Mom and Dad said all the kids, but especially Lucia, did a wonderful job and put in stellar performances. Apparently, some of these kids have impressive little bios touting their dramatic experiences, and I think it's wonderful that today's children - my nieces - have opportunities to explore their interests a lot more than kids of my generation. My first chance to try out for a play was my junior year in high school. Lucia and Beatrice both play soccer and are quite good at it like their Dad. 

Growing up in rural Middle Tennessee in the 70s, nobody played soccer. We'd barely heard of it. Pele. We knew about Pele and could identify a soccer ball. We knew that in South American and Europe, soccer is called football, which was crazy, and (probably still) more popular than any other sport. 

I started to say "organized sport," but what would that be saying? That there's the slight possibility of an unorganized sport being MORE popular than soccer? 

I've rambled away, but the weekend and our celebrations were lovely, and Mom shared photos from Lucia's performance, including Beatrice giving her a gorgeous bouquet of flowers for her premiere. I wish I had some of those handy to share here, but I don't. One of Lucia's costumes was, I believe, a red/orange Oompa-Loompa, and she looked SO cool. 

Saturday, while Mom and Dad were preparing to attend the theater, I did catering. HA! No, really... I delivered a lunch snack to my friend Ward and his posse of helpers at the site of the Goddard Mountain Farm fire, which I blogged about back in December. The ruins of the house are tragic and painful to see, but the family is coping nicely.

 

In Loving Memory of David McDowell

David McDowell never said an unkind word about anyone. He loved his family and friends with a whole and open heart and committed his life to working hard, experiencing the world, championing justice and equality, enthusiastically cheering for Big Orange sports, and being the kind of man he promised his mother he would be.

During a recent chat about his retirement plans and the get-together he wanted to have in celebration, I told him how grateful I am to have been a peripheral part of his risk/safety team at Averitt a few years back. We talked about how glad we are to have avoided COVID and chit-chatted some politics, because David could chit-chat some politics. That's what he's doing (and loving it at

Father Tom's Pub

) in this photo I took back in 2014.

David, tragically, died while snorkeling in Miami on May 2. He was vacationing with friends on an Ernest Hemingway pilgrimage to Key West the three of them cooked-up during pandemic while reading back through the Hemingway's collected works. His death has left his friends and loved ones, including Jack and myself, stunned and heartbroken.

Rest in peace,

David

, my friend.

Birthday Bulletin

You may have noticed that I've dropped the COVID19 designation from the title of the post. COVID19 is going to be with us from here on out. The United States' response to the virus this time last year was so politicized and intentionally bumbled that the concept of "herd immunity" isn't even an option for us now.

Folks who live their lives by "Fear not," saith the Lord are more afraid of the virus than the vaccine, even though one thing is known to be deadly and the other one isn't. Those same "fear nots" are also the ones cheering the new Tennessee state law allowing anyone who wants to carry a handgun openly to by-God-strap-one-on because they're terrified of whatever might need to be shot and killed, but that's a whole different box of snakes.

I celebrated my 56th birthday on Tuesday the 27th, and I don't feel any older. In fact, I currently feel better than I've felt in a few years. Back in December'ish, Jack and I switched to a healthier diet with lots of vegetables, healthy fats, and almost no fried food ever, and now four months into "improved diet," we both feel physically improved, which at our age is the best gift we can give ourselves.

Bea's birthday was the 23rd, and the family got together for a joint celebration on Sunday afternoon. It was for Bea and myself, but it was truly a celebration of our entire family. This marked the first time we've been together as a family - all of us - since we got vaccinated. Vaccines have still not been approved for children, but surely to goodness they'll be eligible soon since young people are the newest high risk group.

Here are a few pictures from the party:

 

Blooms in the Yard

April is a beautiful month. I want to say it's the most beautiful, but every month has spectacular moments. April just has a whole lot of spectacular moments.

Like Beatrice's birthday, which is today!! (Happy Birthday, Bea!!)

And my birthday, which is Tuesday! (Happy Birthday, Pammy!!)

Aside from those two special days, our April yard is full of some of my favorite perennials, and the last couple of weeks have been delightful.

COVID19: Vaccinated, Easter on the Farm, Photos of the Girls

Even though the COVID19 is still with us and will be for a long time, I'm not going to preface my titles with it any longer. We've been isolating and taking precautions for a year now, and this is our new reality.

Jack and I have received both rounds of the Moderna vaccine, and while we still have about ten days before we have maximum protection, the relief feels sweet. 

That said, there's still no place I want to go and nothing I want to do other than some serious hanging with Sis and the girls. Mom and Dad and I got huggy last week, and the situation feels overall better, but  news of dangerous variants and Canada on lockdown and young people now at increased danger of illness, death, and transmission have me on high alert. All of us really, and all I can do is hope that everyone stays as safe and well as they can. 

We had Easter on the farm last Saturday (the day before Easter) with Sis, Chris, and the girls coming for a longer, visit with inside-time and a more normal feel to it. Because Jack and I are not quite protected, we had to hang back and refrain from hugs, but that time's coming with a couple of birthdays - Bea's and mine - later in April.

I was so excited about seeing everybody and volunteered to make a beautiful and perfect strawberry cake using a recipe from Jack's side of the family. I filled it with strawberry jam and was on Cloud9 about how much everyone was going to love that cake. Until I dropped it putting it into the car. At least it landed right side up, and aside from some grime from the side of the car that scraped off easily enough with a spatula, it was fine and tasted delicious.

Mom posed with the big spruce tree in the yard. It was our first Christmas tree after we moved into the house 1978. Forty two years now! It's huge and beautiful. When I posted the photo on Facebook, my friend Mike commented, "It's a Christmas tree with the angel at the bottom." 

We all love kitties. This is Mom's cat, Bingo.

COVID19: Meatloaf on a Sheet Pan

Jack and I have talked about how a meatloaf might work as a sheet pan dinner, and this week I fetched some homegrown beef from the freezer at Mom and Dad's and gave it a whirl. The result was exactly on target, and Jack says it's maybe the best meatloaf he's ever eaten. 

I think the difference is in what the sauce/glaze does at 450 degrees on a sheet pan. 

I stirred together well three tablespoons each of ketchup, mustard, brown sugar, and red wine vinegar with a couple of big grinds of black pepper and pour-smeared it over the top of the meatloaf. Roasting caramelized it into shiny, sweet-savory coating which was a delicious complement to the meatloaf, which was standard fare - hamburger, bread crumbs, handful of oats, squirt mustard, dry mustard, ketchup, dehydrated onions, garlic salt, black pepper, Worcestershire sauce, what am I forgetting? 

Anyway, just a regular meatloaf. On a sheet pan with vegetables. 

It looked like this:

A pound of hamburger yielded a meatloaf loaf big enough for dinner plus leftovers for a couple of  meatloaf sandwiches. 

Jack and I have lately been diligent about "eating a rainbow" of dark-colored vegetables daily when possible, and sheet pan dinner helps us make it happen. This pan looks like a whole bunch of food, which it kind of is, but it's not too much. and it's healthy stuff - one beet with the leaves and stems chopped and cooked underneath, a small white onion, four thin slices of purple cabbage, two carrots, four strips of red pepper, eight spears of asparagus, four mushrooms, eight pieces of broccoli, and fifteen and a half green beans. 

Count it yourself the pieces yourself if you don't believe me. It makes a nice bowl of food. 

Mom and Dad gave us a great set of "pasta bowls" for Christmas, but we've only used them for pasta twice, even though we use them every single day. They're also great for rice and sheet pan dinner. Also, pie. 

This is from a different night, but the effect is practically the same. Roasty and toasty. 

COVID19: We're All Glad Spring Is Here

Today is the official start of spring, and I couldn't be happier about it.

Winter wasn't awful weather-wise, but it wasn't great in the overall view. We know a lot of people who have lost loved ones to COVID in the past three months. Some of our friends and their family members continue to struggle with the long-term impact of having COVID themselves and don't know if they'll ever feel vital or even well again. I want so much for the coming season and summer months afterward to bring hope and health, a much-needed respite, to all of us.

Earlier this week, the US passed the 100 million vaccines mark, which beats the goal President Biden set when he took office on January 20th. Mass vaccination clinics were staged in cities all across the nation today, and the Nashville folks at Nissan Stadium (where the Titans play) vaccinated 10,000 people. 

Here in DeKalb County, the health department is moving its vaccine operation to Alexandria in hopes of expanding access to people who aren't close to anything but I-40 since there are three vaccine clinics here in Smithville. My fingers are crossed that three months from now at the beginning of summer, we'll have a considerable percentage of people across the state and nation vaccinated and safer practices implemented for all of us.

Springing forward last weekend gave Jack and myself a big boost. It always does once we've adjusted to the different boundaries of morning and night and where fall the needs of the daily routine.

Weird as it seems, the cats anticipated the return of Daylight Savings Time by getting hungry about 45 minutes early in the week-plus leading up to the change.