Pillow Talk

A while back, I bought myself a new pillow. It was soft and squishy and really quite marvelous ... and, unfortunately, it didn't last.

Just last night I laid my head upon what was, only a few months ago, a big, fluffy pillow and it was flat and ... really quite horrible.

My mother has always been of the opinion that down pillows are the best. I beg to differ. Down pillows tend to "wad up" and to me are extremely uncomfortable. And, being an organic object, in an environment where heat is not available 24/7 (think winter at our cottage), they tend to get ... iky (and musty, too).

That said, there's a big difference between a good synthetic pillow and a bad one.

Sometime in the past, my mother bought a really, REALLY nice synthetic pillow. I use it when I'm at our family's cottage. It's MINE. It 's fluffy and bouncy and something you can nestle your face into and fall into a deep, comforting sleep.

Okay, I don't always fall into a deep sleep when I lay my head down upon that particular pillow...but during the last few months without that pillow I have not slept well. I could have brought it back home when we closed the cottage down last fall--but I didn't. Sometimes I think I was a fool to leave it behind, and sometimes I think--wow--I can't wait to go back in the spring and be reunited with the pillow of my dreams.

When I've tested pillows at J.C. Penney and Sam's Club and everywhere in between--I've often thought that "this is the pillow of my dreams" but...they aren't, either.

Let's face it, a pillow is a pillow is a pillow. Something to raise your head above the mattress. There should be no emotional attachment to an inanimate object. And yet ... on the many, MANY nights when I can't get back to sleep, I think back to hot summer nights lying under a slowly rotating ceiling fan in that celery green bedroom in the town of Huron and think of my squishy, sort of foamish pillow and wish I had it under my head.

I'm spoiled...and I like it. And why shouldn't I?

How about you?

Where have all GOOD the Christmas Catalogs Gone?

When I was a kid, back in the dark ages, my brothers and I would look forward each fall to snagging the Sears and Penney's Christmas catalogs when they came in the mail. We'd study the toy section and make L-O-N-G lists, noting the name of the item, the page number and the price. (Somehow we managed to NOT include the total at the bottom of the page, probably because we didn't have a calculator.) I don't remember if we ever got anything that was on the lists, but we did always have about a million presents under the tree, and I don't remember ever being disappointed.

For for more than a month now, I've been receiving two Penney "Christmas" catalogs a week. They're filled with all kinds of wonderful things like tableware, linens, small appliances, and Cindy Crawford, in front of "her" holiday table with glassware and a bottle of wine. Doesn't everybody serve Christmas dinner in a little black sheath and dripping with diamonds? (Um...I don't. I usually have on a Christmas sweatshirt, sweatpants, and if I remember, my Christmas socks, which are invisible because my feet are stuffed inside my Wicked-Good slippers.)

The other catalog was a bit bigger, but nothing like the old days, when the Christmas catalog would be up to 500 pages long. (This one was 196.) Of course, like the days of old, this catalog is stuffed with clothes. (BORING!) As far as we were concerned, getting clothes was the ultimate BAD Christmas present, but someone (usually our godparents) gave us pajamas or a scarf/mitten/hat set. You just knew when you got a box that certain size, that there wasn't going to be a record or tape player, or a board game (MONOPOLY!!!), or a Mattel Vac-U-Form in it. (Yes, one year we got a Vac-U-Form and it was fantastic! I think we used up all the provided plastic sheets on Christmas Day.)

The new-improved 2009 Penney Christmas catalog does have toys, but they're scattered throughout the last fifth of the catalog, mixed in with the PJs and the kid bed linens. In total, there's about ten pages.

ONLY TEN PAGES OF TOYS?????

Maybe it's just as well I grew up. That would just be too hard to take.

Of course, I really don't approve of the glut of catalogs that show up in my mailbox this time of year. (The US Postal Service, which is currently going down the tubes, does, however celebrate.) I wouldn't mind so much if the catalogs were from companies I do business on a regular basis--like JCPenny--but mostly they're from places I would never do business with. Say, Harry and David. Mind you, I've received gifts that were purchased from Harry and David -- just last year, as a matter of fact (a lovely box of chocolates), but there are too many diabetics on my Christmas list to purchase anything from that company. And way too many trees are sacrificed for catalogs that will end up, unread, in the recycling bin.

For the past couple of years, I've done most of my Christmas shopping on the Internet. Much as I love to see the lights, to hear the music, and gaze through the seasonally decorated shop windows, I can't bear to tackle the traffic, the crowds, and the germs that are the Christmas season.

Too bad we can't time travel back to our childhoods, when everything seemed so much better, fun, and happy. When lying on your stomach on the living room, gazing at those Christmas catalogs and dreaming of the BIG day was a thrill with no compare.

What do you remember about the old Christmas catalogs?

A Magical Mystery B&B Tour

A couple of weeks ago, my husband took me on a Magical Mystery tour of some of the Bed & Breakfasts in Wayne County, NY. Ten B&Bs were to participate, but at the last minute one of them was pulled from the tour due to a death in the family. Still, we only managed to fit in eight in the five hours allotted for the tour. They were in all corners of the county, so we had to hustle to do that.

Our first stop on the tour was actually the third B&B listed. We'd signed up too late to have our tickets mailed, and had to pick them up. Peppermint Cottage and Jackson School House was a delight. It seems the area (Lyons) was once the peppermint oil capital of the world. The B&B itself consists of a cottage (will full kitchen, and two bedrooms) and a lovely room inside the owner's home (a converted school house). We sampled all kinds of goodies flavored with (what else?) peppermint, and there were several huge bowls of peppermint candies out for guests. They also boast a hot tub and a sauna--but you'd better have good knees to walk up the steps to get to the sauna.

Next, we traveled east to the Old Duck Inn. What a beautiful old farm house. It was built in 1840, and has two bedrooms. The Grandma's room was our favorite, probably because of the king-sized bed (instead of twin beds, which were in the other room). What struck me about the house was all the original woodwork that had never been painted. And the floors were in terrific condition, too. The owner told us the original pocket doors between the dining room and parlor had their original beveled glass. (Although the doors had been painted. I guess stripping them is on the docket for the future.) Like the previous B&B, they had quite a spread, including duckie cut-out cookies. De-lish!

The highlight of the tour was the Vintage Gardens Bed & Breakfast in Newark. Whoa! Talk about gorgeous. The house was originally built by the owners of Jackson & Perkins roses, and because of them, Newark was once known as Rose City. (Of course, they're long gone--moved to Oregon, and what once was their magnificent rose testing grounds is now a bunch of nondescript condos.) The current owner said she has 300 roses, none of which were in bloom in November. We intend to make a repeat visit in June when they should at his peak. We partook of the homemade pumpkin bread at this stop, from a table in the enclosed porch. They had a wood fire going, which was really neat. (This was my favorite stop on the tour--but don't tell the other innkeepers.)

Close to my family's cottage was the New Hartford On the Ridge B&B in Wolcott. We see this B&B everytime we go through the village, so it was neat to be able to go inside and see everything. The owner is an accomplished seamstress, and there were examples of her work all over the house. They had three bedrooms. Also near to "home" was the Oak Park Inn. We can see the marina it's a part of from our cottage. (The house is set back farther.) This was also an old farmhouse with four bedrooms. While it's got original woodwork, the house has been heavily remodels and decorated in a contemporary fashion. While very nice, it was more masculine than most, and perhaps a little stark. Still, anyone who stays there will be very happy. And wouldn't you know, my camera's battery was fading and the only picture I took was messed up.

I could go on and on -- but this is already getting long.

So, have you ever been to a B&B -- if so, what do you remember most about the experience?

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Old Cookbooks

There was a time that I wouldn’t buy a cookbook that didn’t have gorgeous photography on virtually every page. “I like to see what my food is supposed to look like,” I told my family and friends.

In addition to my hundred or so filled-with-lovely-photography cookbooks, I now eight or ten old cookbooks that range in age from fifty to
seventy years old. It’s fun to flip through the pages and find recipes like Pineapple and Grated Swiss Cheese Salad, Glazed Lamb Hearts, Breaded Sweetbreads with Mushroom Sauce, Deviled Tongue Mold, Parboiled Fish Roe – and lots of other things you’re not likely to find these days in a Rachael Ray or Emeril cookbook.

What I also like about these old books is that theygive you lots of cooking tips. Like thechapter on Food Stretchers and Alternates included in The Good Housekeeping Cook Book (my edition is dated 1946). What do you do to save butter? Why, use margarine. Or make your butter pats smaller. Caution your family to use smaller portions (like that will work in this age of supersizing everything), or make a butter spread (by letting it soften and adding unflavored gelatin, water, a little salt, and some evaporated milk).

Yum-yum!

Do you ever use an old cookbook?

What's YOUR favorite cookie?

USA Today has a sidebar feature called Snapshots where they'll give a cute little graphic and some kind of statistical data.  The other day, they featured a survey on cookies.

 I guess it should come as no surprise that the chocolate chip cookie was the favorite--by a whopping 53%.  Yeah, I like chocolate chip cookies, and prefer the homemade variety (of which there seem to be about a million variations).  For my money, the very best recipe comes right off the Nestles morsels package.  Yup, the good old Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie.  If I'm making chocolate chip cookies (which I do only about every other year), there's no reason to try another recipe.  This one comes out perfect every time.  (No lie!)

Next up, was the peanut butter cookie at 16%.  I happen to have the perfect recipe for that one, too.  It was given to me by a friend of my parents.  I must have been ten at the time, so for her to take the time to write out that recipe and give it to me meant a lot.  And the fact that I'm still making that version (mumble, mumble, mumble) years later, is a testament to the quality of that recipe.

I was disappointed that my favorite cookie, oatmeal (no mention of raisins and walnuts) came in at #3 with 15% of the vote.  Oddly enough, I don't have a favorite version of this recipe.  For years I made the version listed in my Betty Crocker cookbook (okay, mostly I ate the raw cookie dough--but those days are long gone), but it's not the best.  I've never really found the ultimate oatmeal cookie recipe, but I have discovered that commercially made oatmeal cookies are generally horrible, and any homemade oatmeal cookie recipe is bound to be infinitely better. (And if you've got a great recipe, please share it.)

Next up on the list:  sugar and/or shortbread with 11% of the vote.  I love shortbread, and have made a sugar cookies, but must admit not often.  (I think because I may have singed the shortbread.)

What I found amazing was that the "other" category was only 5%.  Does that mean that Oreos are NOT America's favorite cookie?  (Does Nabisco know this?)

What's YOUR favorite cookie?

Christmas Goody Basket

 One of the most fun gifts to give (and get) is a gift basket.  Not one of those assembled in some factory in China, but one that is put together with items selected just for you.

As is happens, I just LOVE to assemble these kinds of gift baskets.  Unfortunately, my "give-to Christmas List" has gotten smaller over the years.  (Bummer.)  But already I've started accumulating things for someone special on my Christmas list.  In fact, in no time, I've accumulated enough for at least two baskets.

I can't tell you how much fun I've had on my hunt for cool stuff, and I can't wait to see the look on my friend's face when she gets her Christmas goody basket.

What would you like to see in such a basket?

A card for every occasion

I can't be the only person around who is appalled at the cost of greeting cards.  What used to cost a dollar or so, now costs at least $4 to wish your friends or loved ones a Happy Birthday, Anniversary, Thank You, or just to send a Thinking Of You card.

Okay, I admit it, I'm cheap.  Apparently, a lot o f other people fee that way, too, because I now get (and give) many electronic cards.  I've got a subscription to Jacquie Lawson's online greetings.  They're wonderful animated cards that feature flowers, animals, and nature.  Just wonderful.

 But there are still occasions when I want to send a REAL greeting card.  The cards I send out the most are Thank You cards.  I get the majority of them at yard sales and most of them are blank cards,  You name it, I probably have a blank card on it.  Flowers, cats, dogs, fairies, I must have 200-300 blank cards.  (It's always tough to choose.)  But for Birthday Cards, I usually make them myself. 

I have to admit, I love to receive "made-it-myself cards."  My sister in law makes gorgeous cards.  She must have one of those little die cut machines.  She makes all her cards and it must take hours.  She uses different papers, textures, and rubber stamps with embossing ink.  I always anticipate the cards she sends for holidays and birthdays.

My brother has a computer program that lets him make cards.  He recently made a thank you card for someone and wondered if he was going to look "cheap" with his DIY effort.  But the words he wrote were from the heart and the card was lovely.

I'm not real "crafty," so my cards aren't all that elaborate, and I mostly give them to my immediate family.  My husband set up a template in Abobe Illustrator, and I can choose the graphics and wording myself. That means the cards I make I can personalize.  I like to use my own photography (like this picture I used for this year's Father's Day Card.)  And I get a lot of pleasure putting these cards together.  Usually, it takes between 20-40 minutes to pull one off.  (Mostly because I don't do it often enough and forget how to use the program.)

I have to admit, I'm a bit of a card freak.  I save them.  In fact, I have every birthday card I've received since age eight.  I keep holiday cards.  My favorite Christmas card is from my Grandfather, who's been gone more than 25 years now.  Every year, I take out the last card he sent me and put it up with the current year's holiday greetings.  I look at his handwriting and I miss him, but because I have that card--he's still with me. 

Maybe I'm a nut to hang onto these cards, but they don't take up that much room, and it's nice to revisit those happy occasions when someone thought of me. 

Garden Update

I've blogged before about my wonderful garden.  This is the first true veggie garden I've had in years.  (Uh, about 25 years.)  I planted my little plants and lovingly nurtured them. (This picture was taken in June, before everything took off!) 

Of course the first assault on the garden was the hail storm.  For about 15 minutes my little garden was pelted first with huge raindrops, and then huge hailstones.  I feared my little heirloom seedlings were doomed--likewise the beans.  (Those are bean leaves to the left.)  The broccoli and Brussels sprouts had huge holes in the leaves, but they, too, survived.

Then just as the Brussels sprouts were starting to form, we had a visit from Mr. Groundhog.  Mr. Groundhog roared through my little garden like an angry tornado, eating the broccoli and every leaf he could reach on the sprouts. (That poor first plant reminds me of a very skinny person with a big mop of hair.)

Since the beginning of the summer, I'd heard horror stories about the tomato blight, which is actually a mutation of the potato blight that devastated Ireland in 1844.  Word on the street was that the blight was attacking plants from big-box stores.  Whew!  I bought my plants from a small farm market, and grew my heirloom tomatoes from seeds.  I was safe.

NOT!

Last week I noticed the leaves on the tomato plants were turning brown.  Since then, some of the tomatoes have spots and some are just falling off the plants.  Boo hoo hoo!  All my hard work--and the blight still got my darlings.  Still, we are eating the tomatoes (and cutting off the bad bits) and they are soooooo much better that those hothouse ones at the grocery store.  And hopefully, I'll have at least a couple of heirloom tomatoes, too.

Gardening can be heartbreaking.  But I'm already making plans for next year's garden.

The beginning of the end?

I’m convinced this summer was cursed—at least as far as yard sales goes. But this weekend I did better than I have in almost a month. I scored at the very first sale of the day with two cute little picture frames I have a special use for. Also, I got a CD of the best of Gershwin for a mere 50 cents. (Have been wanting to hear Rhapsody in Blue after rereading Jeanne Ray’s wonderful novel EAT CAKE. That tune has a special place in the book and it just seemed fitting to get the CD.)

But the prize was the hand-painted salt and pepper shakers. I thought they were pretty and at only a dollar, a bargain, too.

We left our comfort zone and traveled a good part across the state because we wanted to go to lunch in one of our favorite Irish pubs (Coleman’s in Syracuse. I had the chicken pub pie. De-lish!). There seemed to be a lot more sales in Syracuse than in my area, so I went to as many as I could. Of course, by the time we got there, most of the sales had been picked over. But I still got some Made In England cork coasters (from Harrod’s no less) with views of London.

I also got a very cute butterfly hairclip for the vast fortune of ten cents, and this lovely little rose bowl—which cost only a quarter, so I can’t say that the prices weren’t right.

But all and all it was yet another disappointing “junking” weekend. Labor Day often means the beginning of the end of yard sale season in this part of the country. 

Bummer.

Mr. Groundhog Returns

Much as I'm a fan of the movie Groundhog Day -- I am NOT a fan of groundhogs.  Let us walk through the mists of time to remember what happened about a decade ago . . . (insert a little harp music here).

All those years ago, we had an unwanted visitor in our garden.  He would take a dip in the pool, walk up the steps, walk around the pool, and sun himself on our little garden bench.  We thought this was kind of cute . . . until he started eating all our flowers.

It turns out, Mr. Groundhog lived in a hole in the arborvitae that grows on the west end of our yard.  My husband Frank was furious--as at the time, the garden was his domain.  We live behind a farmette and Frank passed through the magic door (a space between the arborvitae) into the farm and found that Mr. Groundhog had been feasting on their crops.  One phone call and an hour later, a Havahart trap arrived behind our yard.  An hour after that, Mr. Groundhog had been captured.  He was taken away and we never knew (but did suspect) his fate.  And our flowers flourished for the rest of that season.

Bunnies have been the bane of my bean crops, eating them down to the dirt.  But this year, we sprinkled (and rather liberally) dried blood and consequently are having the best pole bean season ever.

All was well until last night.  I was sitting there reading in our enclosed porch when Chester jumped onto his little box all attentive.  Omigod!  There was a skinny groundhog walking on the concrete deck, heading toward MY CROPS.  I shot out of my chair, hands clapping, and new Mr. Groundhog fled into the arborvitae and I flew out the door to reassure myself that all was well in the garden.

IT WAS NOT.

The pride and joy of my Brussells sprouts had been severely chewed!  And, in fact, one of the leaves had been ripped from the plant.  As it happened, I'd been bragging to my Dad earlier in the afternoon that the first plant was growing by leaps and bounds--and that it was nearly four feet tall.  We had been out picking beans just a couple of hours before I discovered my poor sprout plant had been savagely CHEWED!!!!!

As we looked closer, we saw that one of the broccoli plants had not only been chewed, it had been stripped!  Yum-yum!  Mr. Groundhog had been having a lovely vegetarian dinner and apparently enjoying himself immensely--hence his return for a second meal of the day.

Look at the close up of my Brussels Sprout plant (my pride and joy) where he ripped off the leaf--and note the sprouts are just starting to form.  (Aren't they cute?)  Leaves are one thing, but he'd better not nibble my sprouts.

Of course you know, this first offense will not be taken lightly.  This means war!  First, the last of the dried blood has been spread.  Next up, taking a look at the farm behind us.  If their crops have been decimated, another call to the owner is in order.

Mr. Groundhog, you are no Punxsutawney Phil and this is not Gobbler's Knob.  If you know what's good for you, you will make like Elvis and leave the area.

For good.

And what critters are dining in your yard?

UPDATE:  Mr. Groundhog returned later this afternoon and completely destroyed four of the five Brussels sprouts plants.  We are buying a trap.

Where have I been?

I haven't posted much this summer.  In addition to there being very few sales--and therefore I've bought very little . . . I've been preoccupied with  other matters.

The biggest being my elderly father being admitted to a nursing home.  Why is he there?  He went to the hospital in early July suffering from dehydration.  That small problem escalated and during the 17 days he was there, he developed severe bedsores--FIVE OF THEM.

Now, he's in a nursing home.  My mother stays with him from 8-10 hours a day.  In the meantime, I'm taking care of their home, their errands, their shopping, their laundry.  Did I mention I have a home of my own?  Oh, and I have a job, too.  (Luckily it's a job with flexible hours.)

So I haven't posted much.  But I'll try to do better.  And will post something else later today.

What happened to all the sales?

The yard sales have been a huge disappointment this year.  We're talking TERRIBLE, which is why I haven't posted in a while.  So is it any wonder that sometimes the best thing I can find on my weekly travels is a vegetable?

Last week, after wasting too much gas and not finding anything fun at the yard sales, we stopped at a farm stand and found the world's most perfect cauliflower.  Even better--it was only a dollar!

I LOVE cauliflower and I have a really easy recipe that uses only three ingredients.

Boil as much cauliflower as your family can eat.  When it's almost done, remove it from the boiling water and place in an oven proof dish.  Sprinkle (or dump on) it with your favorite cheese.  (I've used Parmesan, cheddar and mozzarella), and then sprinkle (or dump on) seasoned (or unseasoned--depending on your preference) breadcrumbs.  Bake at 360 until the cheese melts and the breadcrumbs are golden brown (10-15 minutes).

Yum!

A PIECE OF THE PAST

You never know what you're going to find when you go out junking, and lately the pickings have been mighty slim. But last weekend I found a piece of Western New York history in the little town of North Rose (which is NOT in Western New York).

One of my favorite hunting spots is a little church-run thrift shop. Okay, I haven't found anything spectacular there, but they always seem to have something I need or, more importantly, want, and for not much money. Last week's gem cost me all of a quarter.

The Arts and Crafts movement was very big in East Aurora, NY back in the early 20th century, thanks to Elbert Hubbard, a writer, publisher, artist and philosopher, and his Roycroft Press. The village became famous for its artisan shops, and the beautiful Roycroft Inn.

The inn originally opened in 1905 and closed in 1938. (It has since reopened (1995) and has rooms furnished in the arts and crafts style, and a wonderful restaurant.) It's lovely, as is the whole village. (Which is also the home of Fisher-Price Toys.)

What's that got to do with me? I've been fascinated with the whole Arts and Crafts movement (we have a lot of books on it) and so I was psyched when I found a Roycroft Inn butter pat, made by the Buffalo Pottery Company, and dated 1925. Just to have a piece of the not only the inn, but of the whole Roycroft past, is really cool. It just so happens I have a number of other butter pats and have hung them with mini plate hangers. This one's going right over my desk.

What pieces of history are you pleased to own?

Finally--Roses!!!

Several years ago, my husband bought me two climbing roses; one yellow, one red.

Mr. Yellow Rose never did very much, and, sadly, passed away after a valiant two-year struggle to live. Mr. Red Rose managed to hang in there, but never did very much.

Until this year.

My husband has been threatening to yank out Mr. Red Rose because I'd get one, maybe two blooms a year. Whereas my heirloom rosebush explodes into bloom in late June and keeps blooming (although not quite as enthusiastically) all summer long. In contrast, Mr. Red Rose was a real non-performer.

This year looks to be different. After an attack of aphids, I was afraid I wouldn't get any blooms. But, Mr. Rose has been diligent and rewarded me with the first rose of the season. And now there's a second one about to bloom. Not only that, but there are six more buds forming.

Wow--this is a real rose extravaganza -- or at least compared to years past.

Maybe I should threaten to yank all the non-performers. That might give them incentive to bloom, too.