2014: Lion or Lamb?

2014 came in like a lion, or at least I think it did.  After a 50 degree weather reprieve on New Years Eve, the first day of the new year brought us sub-20 degree weather and an inch of snow.  J. and I brought Henrietta in to her second home in the basement because the temps are expected to drop significantly from here as that storm passes by up north.  The heated doggie water bowl just isn't able to keep up with such low temps, so her water is constantly frozen.  And, despite having a heater in her house, she would rather roost on its roof.  I would hate to go out and check on her only to find a hencicle!

 

I suspect, like all of you, I am hoping for a better year than last.  2013 was a year of ups and downs and it ended with me being sick for the last 3 weeks.  Lucky me...December was a whirlwind of trying to get shopping done in between two bouts of the stomach flu and a nasty cold.  Modern medicine is to blame...I went in for to get a prescription refilled and came out with sulfa meds for a sinus infection.  Those totally screwed me up and started the whole downward spiral.  (I'll never take those again!)  I'll spare you the details but suffice it to say that it was NOT a lot of fun. I almost missed the big family Christmas gathering at his mom's house because I was still running a fever.  I'm oh-so-glad I went though, as it was a ton of fun even if I didn't feel all that great.  J. and I didn't even wrap our presents to each other this year, there was no tree (and I LOVE Christmas trees!) - we just didn't have the energy for all of it.  And you can tell from my absence over the last 3 weeks that I haven't had the energy for blogging either.

 

But I'm still vertical, back to 100% and that's all behind us now...and we are ALL going to have a great year in 2014, right?

 

Right!

A Spooky (Persimmon) Tale

Fall is my favorite time of year so it seems my memories of falls past seem to glow a little brighter than just about everything else.  Growing up, my grandfather would always send us over to Old Man Simmons' place to ask him for some persimmons.  My grandfather loved to eat 'em and the Old Man had the only trees in town.  He lived over by an old bridge on the outskirts of town in this decrepit old Victorian farmhouse that just about every kid in town (including me) thought was haunted.  It was pretty dilapidated with a weathered grey exterior and, quite frankly, looked somewhat abandoned.  The one sign of life was a light that burned constantly in one of the downstairs windows behind some tattered curtains.  In fact, every kid in town KNEW with absolute certainty that Old Man Simmons' house was haunted.

And, of course, persimmons ripen in October and we all had our young minds on the scares of Halloween, so the effect of the creepy exterior and crooked, bare persimmon trees in front just heightened our fear. Put the persimmon trees in front and a bunch more junk in the yard and this could be the Simmons' house :

Did I mention it was supposed to rain that afternoon, so the day was cold and very overcast?  The clouds were dark and low in the sky, pregnant with the rain that would later pelt me as I pedaled home.

That first year, I convinced a couple of strong-hearted friends to make the bike ride over to the Simmons house with me.  I was scared as a kid can be and no one - not one of my friends would cross the curb and go to the door.  My grandfather was adamant that I had to go ask permission before I took any persimmons.  The leaves swirled around us as we stood there for 10 minutes while I pulled together as much courage as I could to step onto the stone sidewalk, half buried and forgotten under the swirling autumn leaves.  I was feet from the luscious orange persimmons, but the thought of instantaneous death or entrapment by Old Man Simmons should I dare to try to steal one was enough to keep me from temptation.

I inched my way up the sidewalk to the porch and turned around to find every stinkin' one of my friends gone!  I pictured them furiously pedaling back home to tell their Mom to call the police, certain that I had become the "latest victim".  Do I run back to my bike or keep going?  Before I had a chance to decide, the door creaked open.  I'm now quaking in the new tennis shoes I'd gotten for school.  And then I hear "Well, hello!" in the sweetest little voice.  A small, grandmotherly-looking woman with her hair in a bun stepped into the doorway, drying her hands on her apron as if she'd just finished making cookies.  I could almost smell them wafting out of the doorway.  Wait...was she one of those evil witches who tempted kids into her lair with the promise of candy, cakes, ice cream and all those other sugary goodnesses that our parents wouldn't let us have?  Aaaaarrrghhhhh....the urge to run had come back with an urgency!

"What can I do for you, sweetheart?"  The question snapped me back into the moment.  "Uh...uh..uh....my grandpa sent me to ask if we could have some of your persimmons".  The words tumbled out with the alacrity of a jet engine.  I was shaking like there was an 8.3 earthquake going on underneath me.

"I see. Who's your grandpa?"

I swear my teeth were chattering as I told her.  The cold October wind picked up and the leaves  dance around me like some kind of evil ballet troupe.

"Well, of course.  We've known your grandfather for years.  You can take as many as you want.  Do you want to come in and warm up a bit before you go pick them?"

It was starting to rain.  One of the shutters, missing one of its hinges, creaked in the wind.

I didn't take her up on that offer, instead opting for thanking her and tucking as many persimmons into my backpack as it would hold and then doing the kid's version of "getting the hell out of there."

I would, however, in the following years, get to know both Mr. and Mrs. Simmons for the wonderful people they were.  They ran an antique shop out of the bottom of their house that was actually more of a junk shop, but it was filled from floor to ceiling with things that kids considered to be wonderous treasures.  Their house became a haunt of mine (no pun intended) and they would often let me paw through their items for sale and choose one for free.  I spent alot of my allowance money there also.

The Simmons' were both such nice people and it was until much later that I learned from someone else that they had lost their son, their only child, in a tragic accident several years before the day I set foot on their crumbling front porch.  I suppose they had become introverts after that, given the state of the house.  To this day, I think of them with a sense of both wonder and sadness.  They are both long gone and I wonder if the house is still standing.  If I ever make it back there, I'm making it a point to go by there and check.

I never told my grandfather about that first venture to see Old Man Simmons.  I've always wondered if he sent me there knowing  the absolute ghoulish fright it would cause in all of us.  I suspect he was grinning as we gathered our backpacks and took off on our bikes that gray afternoon to go get him his beloved persimmons. 

Do you have a frightful tale from your childhood?  Somebody make the hair stand up on the back of your neck?  Scare the heck out of all of us - leave a comment!

You Don't Look a Day Over 237

It's our birthday!

 

 

This is perhaps my most favorite picture from our D.C. trip back in 2002.  It was a cold evening, with snow on the ground - so cold we couldn't feel our legs as we walked around the National Mall.  The sunset, as you can see, was gorgeous.  I fell in love with this statue of Thomas Jefferson and, in particular, the quote from one of his letters that rings the rotunda right above it:

"I have sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against
every form of tyranny over the mind of man."

 

On this Fourth of July, please take some time from the fireworks, tasty barbecue, and fun to gather your friends and family and remember why we celebrate this holiday.  It isn't about all that.  Today is all about the birth of this great nation and the freedom that we hold so dear.  We shouldn't take it for granted because it can slip away when we're not looking.  It's already happening.

I hope all of you have a safe and happy 4th!

 

The Brave and the Fallen

“Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and the success of liberty.”

--John F. Kennedy, Inaugural Address

Back in 2002, J. went along with me on a trip to D.C. and it's so long ago that I can't even remember why we went in the dead of winter.  It was magical, though....the snow laid thick on the ground and the cold nipped at us as we walked around the National Mall until we couldn't feel our legs.   All the way out to the Lincoln and Jefferson memorials to the Capitol where we found the Missouri Christmas tree.

Looking at all the white crosses so neatly lined up at Arlington Cemetery caused us to pause before moving on.  I'm not sure what J. was thinking, but I was thinking about all those brave men who fought and died so that I could be free.  Think about what that really means.  It is truly a solemn place.  Going just a little further, I was brought to tears by the sight of J. saluting the fellow Marine who guards the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

It's Memorial Day.  Let's celebrate and remember all of those heroes that have sacrificed to make our celebration possible. 

Happy Memorial Day!

St. Paddy's Ba-Dump-Bump

The remains of one of my ancestor's castles in Dromaneen, Cork.  Photo courtesy of Mike Searle.

Ah, the emerald isle calls to me with a siren's voice!  My family name on both my mother and father's sides are unmistakably Irish, my great grandfather was an Irishman, and my sister has traced our family's lineage all the way back to an ancient king.  Every year I say I'm going "across the pond" to visit and we never make it.  *sigh* Someday....

We celebrated the American Irish Lovefest (better known as St. Patrick's Day) last night by rocking out with Irish folk rock legends, The Elders, at the Uptown Theater.  Aaaaagh...Irish fiddle!  You can listen to them here.  And if you like what you hear and are anywhere near KC, they'll be blowing the roof off the Irish Center's Gala on April 18th.  You can bet I'll be there.

Anyway, I thought I would leave you with an Irish funny to get your St. Paddy's Day started off right.  Hope you enjoy!

A few years ago we toured Europe. Shortly after arriving in Italy, we noticed that outside every cathedral was a small golden pillar, holding a golden phone. The plaque invariably read: "Direct line to heaven. $1,000." Not having the extra cash, we didn't call.

After seeing much of the continent, we visited the UK. Our first cathedral there was an Irish one, and more of a chapel, really. Outside ...was the now-familiar golden phone. But the plaque read: "Direct line to heaven. $0.25."

We grabbed the priest and asked, "Father, how can this be? All over Europe, these Direct lines to heaven cost $1,000. Why is this one only twenty-five cents?"

He smiled gently and replied, "Aye, but you're in Ireland now. It's a local call."



The Music of Spring

This was my reaction when I heard that Mr. FluffyPants didn't see his shadow this morning.

One must wonder if ol' Phil doesn't get a bit tired of being dragged out of bed early on February 2nd, only to be assaulted in front of a large group of people before he even had time for morning coffee.  I certainly would be a bit curmudgeonly.

 

I have found myself piled on the sofa today, surrounded by stacks of gardening magazines and seed catalogs. The pile keeps growing, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the stacks are breeding like rabbits.  Certainly, I haven't made a dent in them at all.

 

As I flip the pages, I have an idea buzzing around my head like a busy Spring bee:  should we rip out the raised beds and go full tilt on a huge garden?  Methinks that it might be time.  It certainly would be alot more work, particularly since the soil isn't ideal.  We'd need to truck in some really good nursery soil to get started and then work hard on amending it every year with overplanting and compost.  Given the list of things we'd like to plant, we may not have a choice but to do this.

 

But like fine honey, this idea needs more time.

Hello, 2013!

Christmas with Grandma

 

Is that not a beautiful rendition of Santa?  That's a late 1800's woodcut image of the Jolly Old Man himself from Harper's Weekly.  I think it's just stunningly beautiful.

My doctor says I have bronchitis and should stay home and rest this week, so that's right where I am right now now.  On the sofa with some more hot chocolate!  My sister-in-law sent me an email with a really cute story that made me smile, so I thought I would share it with you today.   I hope it makes you smile as well.

~~**~~**~~ Christmas with Grandma ~~**~~**~~

(author unknown)

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.

Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside:$19.95.

May you always have LOVE to share,

HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...

And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

 

I've shared this post with Homestead Revival's Barn Hop for this week.  It's a great place to learn and share - go check it out!

Easy Cinnamon Roll Pie Crust

How are you coming on your Christmas decs, meal plans, and gift wrapping?  J. and I are a little late because, while the weather has been cooperating with a balmy 60+ degrees every day, we both have both been under the weather.  He woke up Saturday morning with a terrible migraine and sinus pressure that quickly turned into a snot fountain.  I ran the errands by myself on Saturday only to come home with the same thing.  It's kept me home from work both Monday and today with no voice and the snots.  I suspect Kleenex stock is shooting up because of me right now, but I haven't the energy to look.

J., on the other hand, is back at work and he felt good enough last night to put up some of our outside decorations.  He did a good job, don't you think?  I had some of those cheap red outdoor bows and they faded after a year.  I priced some replacements at anywhere between $4.99 and $11.99 not on sale (but who pays retail anyway?!) and decided to buy some big rolls of ribbon and make my own.  The green and red mesh was $1.00 and red and gold ribbon was $5.00 at Old Time Pottery. I have enough to make another entire set next year if these fade or get torn up.  And, for some reason, I'm really into lime and red this year.  If anyone really wants to know how I made these, let me know and I'll post a tutorial.

Anyway, what else is there to do when you're sick except sit around and wish you could do something else?  I was craving apple pie yesterday and surfing around on the web and found a recipe for cinnamon roll pie crust made with Pillsbury ready-made pie crusts.  It is so easy and SOOOOO yummy, that you have to try it.  Here's what I did:

Beautiful Jonagold and Honeycrisps made their way into my pie. Aren't they gorgeous?

Ingredients for Dutch Apple Pie with Cinnamon Roll Pie Crust

Pie Crust
1 package Pillsbury Ready-Made pie crust (or make your own)
Cinnamon, to suit 

Pie filling
7 to 10 large apples, preferably of 2 different varieties (5 1/2 cups prepped)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar (omit if using super-sweet apples)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon 

Streusel topping (optional)
3/4 cup flour
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup butter or margarine at room temperature 

Step 1.  Prepare the pie filling

1.  Prep the apples by peeling them, removing the cores and seeds, and then either slicing in thin slices or cubing them.  I've found that small cubes or thin slices tend to fill the pie a little better.

Mixing in the huge Ironstone bowl that J. gave me last Christmas!  Just like my grandma's....

2. In a large bowl, mix the sliced apples, lemon juice, sugar and cinnamon together.
3. Set aside.  Now you're ready to.....

Step 2.  Prepare the pie crust

1.  Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Prepare the Pillsbury pie crust.  It needs to be room temperature, so follow the steps on the box if you just took it out of the freezer.
3.  On a piece of parchment paper, carefully unroll one of the pie crusts.  Brush the entire crust with melted butter.
4.  Sprinkle cinnamon liberally over the whole crust.  You can add as much cinnamon as you want.
5. Roll the crust back up as tightly as you can.
6. With a sharp knife, cut the roll into 1/4" pieces.  These will look like tiny little cinnamon rolls when you're done!
7.  Press these into the bottom of your pie plate and press them together so that there are no spaces between the pieces.  You can also use a spring form pan to make it easier to get the pie out.  Personally, I like glass pie plates because they seem to bake more evenly.  I just wish I had a deep dish glass one!  (*hint hint* to J. if you're reading this...Christmas is coming up, ya know!)

By the way, I know mine is not as pretty as this one.  But I'm sick and I'm going to eat it anyway. So pppbbbbbbbtttttt!

8.  At this point, you can top the pie any way you like.  I considered doing a lattice top with the other pie crust but then decided that there just wasn't enough sweetness in the pie to cure my cold.  So I made a dutch streusel.  It's much quicker and my recipe is below.

Step 3.  Prepare the topping (optional)

1.  In a medium bowl, add all the topping ingredients together and mix with a fork until coarsely crumbled.
2.  Cover all of the apples evently with the streusel mixture.  The pie is going to look ridiculously tall when you're done but don't worry...it will bake down to normal size.
3:   Bake for 50 minutes at 400 degrees (or whatever your pie recipe calls for).


While it didn't cure my cold, it did made me feel better while I was eating it.  Warm apple pie with fresh vanilla bean ice cream.  Yum!  I hope you'll give this one a try.

This post was shared as part of the Backyard Farming Connection Hop and Barn Hop.  Go check out what everybody else is up to!

A Day of Thanks

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.

 

--"Thanksgiving" 

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

A Day of Honor

“We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

-- "Ulysses" by Lord Alfred Tennyson

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

If you've seen the new James Bond movie, "Skyfall", you'll recognize this as the poem that M (Judy Dench) recites so gracefully about halfway through the movie.  It solidifies a theme that runs through the whole movie of old vs. new, renewal, destruction and resurrection.  The poem moved me to think about Veteran's Day and the trials that our servicemen and women have endured to keep this country free.

 

The brave soldiers that serve and have served in our military have moved earth and heaven.  They are a force for good on this planet, ever vigilant, a steadfast friend or unyielding foe, a savior to many. Time and again, they have been called upon to lay their lives on the line for America and others. Today is the day that we recognize their heroicism, their honor, their sacrifice.

 

The Heritage and Guardianship status outside the National Archives during our trip to DC in 2005.
 

If you meet a veteran today, please thank them for their service.  Today is their day.

 

 

Teufelshunde

Today is J.'s birthday.  That is to say, his second birthday.  You see, he's a United States Marine, a vet who served in Operation Desert Storm.  He's a proud Teufelshunde or "devil dog", which is what the Germans in World War I referred to the Marines as because they "fought like dogs from hell".

When you want something done, you send in the Marines.  Born on November 10, 1775 and still going strong.

These brave men, and those in the other branches of the military, put their lives on the line to protect the freedom that you and I enjoy (and others seem to take for granted.)  They are heroes, every one of them and they deserve our utmost honor and respect.

Oorah, boys!  Oorah!

We Are the Brave

Wow, check out this hard rockin' version of the Star-Spangled Banner.  

I love it!

Happy Birthday, America!

Several years ago, J. and I set off on a visit to New York to see the sites and visit a friend after 9/11.  The highlight of the trip for me was the boat ride to Ellis Island to see Lady Liberty.  The sky was beautiful on this windy, crisp January day and the waters were choppy.  But once we arrived, I was awestruck by this piece of history and what she stands for.  Pictures simply cannot do her justice.

This picture is my favorite, so I thought I would share it with you today, America's birthday.

On this Fourth of July, please take some time from the fireworks, tasty barbecue, and fun to gather your friends and family and remember why we celebrate this holiday.  Today is all about the birth of this great nation and the freedom that we hold so dear.  We shouldn't take it for granted because it can slip away when we're not looking. 

I hope all of you have a safe and happy 4th!

It's National Dance Like a Chicken Day!

And these birds have some serious moves!



Thanks to J. for the calendar reference. It's amazing what you can find when you take a break from reading a week's worth of vacation email at work.

I'm a Really Cheap Date

Well, happy V-Day!  Or should I say Happy "completely unimaginative, consumerist-oriented and entirely arbitrary, manipulative and shallow interpretation of romance" Day?

Just kidding.  Well, sort of.  J. and I have never celebrated Valentine's Day.  It pains my fiscally conservative upbringing to see someone spend $30 on a dozen roses, only to have them die in a week.  And I've never felt the need to be given material things to know that I'm loved.  I don't begrudge the holiday for other folks - it's just not my thing.

But that doesn't mean we didn't celebrate in some form or fashion.  The evening started out with a trip to Sears Outlet for 2 more pieces of FREE clothing:  a really nice black Levi's buttoned dress shirt and a  package of Hanes undershirts for J.  Then we were off to grab some free Redbox movies (use code HEART today only for a free rental).  And, finally, dinner at Houlihan's where J. had received a FREE $15 entree coupon because his birthday is this week.  The waiter screwed up our bill and ended up taking our drinks and my soup off, so we paid just $10 for dinner.  Score!

So there you have it...I'm a cheap Valentine's date.  But a night out with my sweetie?  Priceless.

Oh, and a shout out to my buddy, Tom, who turned the big 4-OH today.  Remember: growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional!

Sam the Groundhog

Happy Groundhog Day! 

That pesky prognosticator Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow this morning.  As if that's a surprise, and as if we couldn't figure out all on our own by looking at the calendar that we have 6 more weeks of winter left.  Of course, I'll take another 6 weeks of this weather:  it's been 67, 63 and 58 the last couple of days.  The weatherguessers say that's coming to an end this weekend with rain and maybe even a glancing blow of snow!  We definitely need it.

But groundhogs aren't all bad.  A long, long time ago in a land far away (okay, in Columbia, Missouri 100 miles from here), I had a furry friend of the groundhog persusasion that lived right outside my apartment.  I had sliding glass doors that opened from my living room out onto this little patio and just beyond that was an earth berm that "Sam" called his home.  It wasn't unusual for my friends and I to be hanging out and see Sam waddle right up to the door, sit on his haunches and look inside.  Yep, I had my very own groundhog peeper.  And I didn't mind because he was absolutely adorable.

Say Cheese! It's National Cheese Lover's Day

As connosieurs of all thing cheese, CrankyPuppy and my other fuzzy companions are absolutely delighted that today is National Cheese Lovers Day. They're looking at me expectantly right now, wondering what kind of cheese we're going to eat first. Well, some of us didn't get this great day off (what's up with that!?) so I'm going to have to dash their hopes about sitting around and eating cheese all day.

But, in honor of such a momentous occasion, let's look at a recipe that is oh so yummy, easy and cheesy to boot. I give you Cheese Hand Pies!

Cheese Hand Pies

Pastry Ingredients
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
6 tbs butter cut into blocks
1/2 tsp salt
1 small egg, lightly beaten
3 1/2 tbs milk
2 tsp white vinegar

Filling Ingredients (**you can fill these with anything, like apples and butter!)
3/4 cup cottage cheese (drained)
1/2 cup smooth ricotta cheese
2 tsp finely grated Romano cheese
pinch salt & pepper
2 small eggs
1/2 tsp paprika
1 tsp milk

Directions

1. To make the pastry, combine flour, butter and salt.
2. Rub the butter into the flour with your fingertips until it is crumbly.
3. Add the eggs, milk, and then vinegar. Mix well until the dough forms a loose ball. Flatten it slightly.
4. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour.
5. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
6. To make the pastry filling, mash the cheeses together.
7. Mix in salt, pepper, paprika, and 1 egg.
8. In a separate bowl, whip the remaining egg and 1 tsp of milk together to make a glaze.
9. Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured surface to about 1/8" thick.
10. Cut 4 inch rounds with a cookie cutter or a glass, cutting them as closely together as you can. Re-roll the scraps if you needed.
11. Brush around the edges of the pastry circles with the glaze.
12. Place about 1/2 tsp to 1 tsp of filling in the middle of each round, spreading it out lightly into an oval.
13. Flip one half of the pastry over the filling to create a half circle.
14. Press the edges together to seal them and then fold them up and over to make a lip.  This will keep the cheese filling from leakingout.  You may need to stretch the ends slightly to make them  match up.
15. Place the pies on the baking sheet and brush the tops with glaze.
16. Bake for 20 minutes or until they are nicely browned on top and bottom. Let them cool slightly before eating, as they will be piping hot on the inside.
17. Enjoy!

And All Through The House



Is this Prancer permanently preserved in ice? 



I confess...I cannot resist Victorian ornaments.

Happy Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!

O Christmas Tree

Our annual tradition (if you can call it that) has been to make hot cocoa and decorate the Christmas tree while we listen to some beautiful classical Christmas renditions.  J. hauled the tree up from the basement for me and, while it's been much too warm outside to stir up the cocoa cravings, we still had a good time decorating.  My other tradition has been to buy or create one new ornament every year and I think this is the first year that I haven't gone out on my annual ornament hunt.  I am having a hard time getting in the holiday spirit - possibly because of the weather or maybe it's the economy that has everybody down.  But the tree always helps my mood and I think it is beautiful.  Someday, *crossing my fingers*,  we will throw away this fake tree and replace it with one grown on our farm.