I always seem to leave it until the last minute. But I always carve the same thing, with minor variations, so it never takes long.
Bring on the kids!
My trusty De Smet Farm Insurance Co. of South Dakota yardstick from the Brown County fair showed 17 inches on the patio table this morning. And it's still snowing. It's a good insulator for the hive:
Jackson thinks the snow is dandy.
Lucy, not so much. Not only is it too deep ...
... Jackson already has a size and weight advantage. In the snow, Lucy just gets buried.
So Lucy spends a lot of time standing by the back door, hoping I'll let her back in to her snug bed.
Sorry for the crummy cellphone pic. I should go out and take better ones. But I just spent an hour snowblowing and shoveling. That's after doing the same at noon. And likely again tomorrow morning. We're supposed to get about 18 inches.
Well, I blew it. With Mom visiting, I just couldn't manage to keep up with the daily blogging. But I've been having a good time, anyway! Yesterday we went to Manisha's for a Diwali dinner. Jen was there and took awesome pics. Manisha made a fabulous spread, to which Teri contribute pomegranate mimosas, Nichole added punjab potatoes and cauliflower and I brought chivda. Mom had the bright idea to bring soan papdi, which is a super-tasty flaky sweet. I'd introduced her to it the week before. We laughed when we found out Manisha had bought some for the party, too.
This is what you get when I can't think of anything coherent a random selection of cell phone photos from my day. It started with a nice long walk and then lunch at Lucile's, where I indulged in the oh-so-tasty rice pudding porridge, artfully drizzled with raspberry coulis and currants.
Then some Asian grocery shopping, where I often take pictures of things I don't recognize so I can look them up later. Nagaimo root is Chinese yam, according to the Wikipedia entry and has some interesting history (check out the "non-food uses").
I was whining about the lettuce wrap recipe because it requires you to make your own ground pork and grind your own rice flour, which is so typical of Cook's. But it turned out stellar. You should try it sometime.
That's the name of a store on Pearl Street that carries everything you could want for your feline friends. They also carry dog food, including the fancy stuff the poodles eat (which costs twice as much as Sophie's food and gets consumed twice as fast, there being two of them).
Household appliances seem to know when it's the optimum (i.e. worst) time to fail. In this case, it was the washing machine cringing before the onslaught of laundry day, when I had about five loads lined up and the time to process it all.
When I last reported on the "mansion home" for sale In April 2008 (!) after first noting it in August 2007, the price had been dropped from $1.15 million to $999,800.
I took the picture above with my cellphone on Aug. 1 of the door plastered with warning noticed from the city to clean up the weeds and trash in the yard or face a $200 fine. There was also a note from an enterprising soul offering to do it for $20. Which I'm guessing didn't happen, since a city crew showed up the next day.
I would feel more sorry for the builders, who I think did a nice job with the design, if they hadn't been asking such a ludicrous price to begin with. Being way overpriced even before the market imploded means someone will now get it for a song, most likely, and all the subcontractors who worked on it will go begging.
I imagine whoever found this little guy was rather surprised.
Someone "adopted" Comet the beagle puppy, then turned around and tried to make a profit on him. Grrr.
I sure hope they got their Buzzkill back!
I know Patch well, as he is always running loose. His owner cultivates a macho Buffalo Bill persona, complete with cowboy hat, goatee and cowboy boots. He refuses to get the dog neutered. And I've seen him kick the dog. He's an asshole.
Of course, Patch showed up again, this time at my house, a mile from his. And of course it was right as I was running out the door and didn't have any options for locking him up safely while I was gone.
So much for dining in peace.
Probably not for good, but this is one heck of an early warning. It's 20 degrees out and a light snow is falling, spelling the end of the annuals. When it warms up again next week, I'll pull out the cosmos and pile them at the end of the garden. Last year I left them in a heap by the gate and didn't get around to dumping them for a couple weeks, resulting this year in a big, vigorous stand of them in that spot. Instant flower bed! So this year I'll do the same next to the beehives.
I'll drag them out for a walk later and then make a pan of lasagna with the mystery squash from my garden.
Jonathan and Barb at Mile High Eater gave me the heads up that Chef Eric Skokan (above) of the Black Cat in Boulder has been invited to cook at the James Beard House on Oct. 13, which is a nice honor. There's an article about it in the Daily Camera.
When I was a kid, everyone called me "Sally" because I was so very much like my mother's younger sister in speech and mannerisms. She didn't even live nearby, so the connection was clearly genetic. For a while I even speculated that I was the result of a youthful indiscretion on Sally's part and given to her sister to raise.
When I was in Wisconsin in August, someone mentioned they'd seen some sandhill cranes in a particular area, so Mom and I had our eyes peeled. We spotted a few flying one evening, and the next saw more. I have photos of little specks in the sky. They looked bigger in person, and prehistoric, with their huge, slow flapping wings.
I finally found one at Safeway. No fever here, so the achy must be from digging, topped with a nasty sore throat. I took the day off work and tried to get a lot of sleep. The dogs' love of cuddling is both a help and a hindrance; they take up a lot of real estate on the bed. Here's Lucy, practicing her paw extensions for tonight:
One of those paws will likely end up on my face.
Besides blogging, I have also gotten out of the habit of taking pictures of everything, which means I don't have a Before picture of the silver lace vine.
In the foreground is the hole I dug for a Frontier Elm, which I'm getting from the city for $25 as part of their shade tree program. I wanted a Linden, but they were out, darn it. Still, this is supposed to be a nice, smallish tree that turns burgundy in the fall. Tree pickup is tomorrow morning.
A year ago when Amy (a.k.a. Groovygrrl) asked me to participate in National Blog Writing Month, I thought, "Well, I blog every day anyway, so that won't be much of a challenge!" How times change. It took a little arm-twisting this time, but it's probably good to have something to push me back into it. I seem to have lost that blogging muscle tone.