Cat? What cat?

Sophie and I used to share a house with a three-legged cat named Hobbes. There were a lot of jokes about what happened to Hobbes' fourth leg ("We ate it." "It's in a reliquary at the Vatican." "We donated it to a two-legged cat"). The truth is he was hit by a car as a kitten. Didn't slow him down, happily.

Sophie learned quickly that Hobbes was not fair game for chasing, though she would lick his face in an attempt to get him to run. When he got tired of that, he would retreat to the basement where she wasn't allowed.

Then Doogie came along, and he hated cats. Sophie picked up from him that felines must be chased at all costs. After Doogie died, she had to unlearn her bad behavior with some help from the Voice of Doom. She still lunges if she sees a cat, but a sharp "Leave it!" from me pulls her up short. Friendly cats will even get a suspicious sniff (and I get an accusing look of betrayal).

Most of the time now, though, she doesn't see cats at all. As long as they don't move, she's clueless.

I hope my next poodle is as easy to teach that Kitties Are Our Friends.

Gleaning

I thought I had found all the green tomatoes the other night, but apparently picking by flashlight isn't as effective as I thought.

With the killing frost, the vines are done for, but a passel of fruits appear to have survived. Plus a wee acorn squash. These tomatoes were the ones that were still firm, most of them lurking near the ground where they were protected. I found some higher up that were mushy. Those will go in the seedy compost along with a bunch of very mushy tomatillos. I may get some seedlings out of that pile next year.

Brunch at Lucile's in Boulder

Back up to Boulder today for the handoff of NaBloWriMo art from Jen of Use Real Butter. We were sorry Manisha couldn't make it this time.

I've been to the Lucile's in Denver several times and knew exactly what I was going to order at the original location in Boulder. Mmmmm .... creamy rice pudding porridge. I forgot to order beignets, but it's probably just as well; the porridge was sweet enough.

The restaurant is in an old house. We were seated in the glassed-in front porch. The service was attentive and unobtrusive. I liked that I never had to look around for a coffee refill. Good coffee, too.

If you like Cajun/Creole food, check out Lucile's:
2124 14th St
Boulder, CO 80302
303-442-4743

I came home to find a certain poodle still crashed out in bed where I'd left her earlier.
She didn't appreciate being woken up with a camera in her face.

Winterizing

Houses as old as mine (built in 1894) often did not have any heat ducted to the upstairs. There would be registers in the floor to allow warmth from downstairs to rise. At some point, a furnace was put in the attic, so I have two. Until the swamp cooler was winterized, I couldn't fire up the attic furnace because it's tied in to the same ductwork.

Here's where having two ladders comes in handy. I can climb one to haul the other up to the deck without trying to navigate through the house with it.
I needed to get up there to change the filter. You can see the old and new filters above. Yech. I sprang for the super-duper filter because it's pretty dusty here.

I keep the upstairs thermostat at 58, so it doesn't have to run very often. There's enough residual heat coming up the stairwell and I have lots of quilts. Tonight I'll need them; it's supposed to get down to 25. Brrrr!

I kept the kitchen warm today with a little supplemental heat from the oven – making another batch of roasted tomatoes:
I really liked the ones from the muffin tins in the last batch, so I used two tins this time.

Whipped up a batch of creamed chard, too. Sautee shallots in olive oil and butter, add the chard and cook until it's wilted, then add some heavy cream and let it cook until the cream thickens, stirring frequently.
Serve it with pasta or as a side dish. Yum.

Hope you're staying warm, too!

More gummy worms

Digging out a bunch of grass for a planting bed turned up a lot of worms the other day. That's good; it means the soil is healthy. Most of the worms were of pretty average size, but this one was a monster.
I didn't end up with a black tongue this time. Just hands.

Nothing lasts

Oh look, another "Lot for sale." Are you getting tired of seeing these?

What makes me sad about this one is that someone has worked really hard on that yard to make it look nice. But it's all going to be scraped away.

The brochure says they won't even show the house until the property is under contract. "Rent until you're ready to build," it says.

That's a double lot, so someone can put up a duplex there. Just like the one next door.

Garden art

Walking the dog has health benefits, and it keeps me in touch with neighborhood goings-on. I meet people working in their yards or out walking, too, and I look at houses and landscaping to see what works and what doesn't.

Some people like to load their gardens up with "whimsy." To me, there's a not-very-fine line between intriguing and tacky. A weathered piece of old iron can make an interesting statement. A herd of mismatched ceramic figurines not so much. The latter tends to be rare around here, though. And I never see that old classic, the cutouts of the farmer and his wife, bending over.

This spot of color in a nicely landscaped parkway (a.k.a. hellstrip) caught my eye the other day.

Mushrooms!
How pretty, and unobtrusive. You wouldn't notice them unless you were right there.

I find it reassuring that the homeowners don't fear vandalism. In some parts of the city such a thing would be stolen or broken in short order. I have friends who can't even put a flower pot on their porch for fear of it being taken (they learned the hard way).
Another house in the neighborhood, on a more heavily trafficked corner, has some clever, handmade fence-post toppers that I like. You'd think someone might try to swipe them, but they show no signs of damage.

What tchotchkes are in your yard?

Strangers in the night

Sophie and I walked 1.15 miles this morning. Enough walking for an old dog? Nope. Home from work, I was greeted by leaping and spinning and multiple attempts to rescue Timmy from the well (i.e. concerted efforts to lead me to the treats in the kitchen).

It had rained earlier and the air was chill and misty, so I put on a hat and gloves and we headed out again, for another 1.3 miles.

Sophie frolicked the whole way, which I always find encouraging. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the Orionids meteor shower, but the sky was hazy, and it was probably too early yet. It's supposedly best just before dawn.

Near the end of the walk we passed a guy out with his Tibetan mastiff and said hello. At the next corner I made Sophie stop so I could try to capture her silhouette against the streetlight. I crouched down, bracing the camera on the sidewalk, and took a few shots, but heard footsteps. The mastiff-walker had doubled back.

"Hey, are you OK?" he called out. I stood up. "Oh yeah! Just taking pictures!"

It probably looked like I was ill, maybe doubled over in pain or something. Or it just looked strange.

Modern Mango

Finally met my neighbors the other day who built a gorgeous modern home. I'd been checking out their blog for a while after a mutual friend of a friend sent it to me. It's a very nicely designed home, with lots of clean lines, open space and light. They used green materials and were able to economize in some areas with Ikea elements such as closets that they built in. As I've said before, it's nice to see a new home that doesn't cover the entire lot and overwhelm the the neighbors, with a design that is interesting and attractive. It's not some cookie-cutter off-the-shelf Home Depot plan that has no character.

They have a sweet little kitty named Mango, too. Who didn't know what to make of Sophie.

Silly kitchen gadget No. 26

I like donuts. And doughnuts. I like 'em big and small, and sugared and glazed. I like 'em filled with stuff. Custard, jelly, it's all good.

So you'd think I'd like the Dough-Nu-Matic automatic mini-doughnut maker. Um, no. Something tells me that this thing is more of a pain in the ass than it's worth. And at $130, it's worth way too much.

"Just add dough," it says. So there's still prep involved, and cleanup. I was looking around online for the dough recipe and found that Boingboing reviewed the machine a while back. One commenter wrote an excellent critique, based on first-hand experience. It confirmed my suspicions. If you can get the damn thing to work right, after endless fiddling with batter and machinery, you will get doughnuts.

And then you have to clean it. Turns out that's a bitch.

I think I'll stick with the doughnut shop.

No, seriously ...

These are (probably) the last raspberries.

OK, maybe I shouldn't keep saying that. But they look so much prettier than green tomato casserole photographed in the middle of the night, so I'm posting them for some visual relief.

And look! Autumn-blooming crocus!

Green tomato casserole

Rooie suggested I might make a green tomato casserole with my abundant harvest. That struck me as easier than trying to fry up so many slices singly. And maybe it would be reheatable or good cold.

Following Rooie's directions, I layered tomatoes with seasoned bread crumbs, parmesan cheese, a sprinkling of salt and bits of butter. I did maybe five layers.

Baked it at 350 covered for 15 minutes and uncovered for another 20. I turned the broiler on for a minute at the end to make the top a little crispier.

Rooie didn't give temps and times, so I just guessed.

Well, this photo just doesn't capture it very well.
But, um, I ate three-quarters of the entire casserole in a very short span. I can attest that it is good at room temperature as well as hot.

I will make it again in a larger, shallow casserole so I can have more of the crispy top.

You should make it, too.

Squirreling away

Pam commented about the alleys in my neighborhood. Most of Denver has them, and I like them a lot. For one thing, it means that streetscapes are not garage-centric, as you see in many suburbs. The houses look more welcoming, with porches and walkways and gardens instead of vast expanses of driveway concrete and big, blank garage doors. (Did you know that snout houses are banned in Portland?)

The Dumpsters in the alleys are very convenient. You never have to remember when trash day is, and if you're out walking the dog, poop bag disposal is always handy.

The alleys do attract scavengers, both human and animal. If you have an item to get rid of that may still be useful, you can put it next to the Dumpster and someone will take it.

As you can see from the picture above, the squirrels are always Dumpster-diving. That one found a big hunk of chocolate cake.

And speaking of squirrels, I finally broke down and squirreled away the last two years of photos on my external hard drive. I had more than 10,000 photos, and the laptop was slowing down because of it.
While iPhoto is convenient and easy to use, it has one big flaw: It has no means of archiving just a portion of your photos. You can't move, say, last year's pics to another drive and free up space. You have to archive the whole damn library and start a new library from scratch. So I've just done that, and I'm kicking myself for not naming the photo rolls in more detail. It'll be a bitch to find things if I don't know the exact date. But the laptop should be speedier now.

Autumn leaves

Now showing in Denver.

Pasted up

No worries on the paste cubes! They slid right out of the tray and into a bag. A much more efficient use of freezer space than lots of little containers.

I had a hankering last night for eggs on toast, but lacked the bread, so I cheated on my cold-oven experimenting and made a loaf I knew would turn out.

Voilà, cheesy swirl:
Nom nom nom.