Snow, Sweet Potato and Grass

It is quiet here this evening. The kids and parents are off to the Apple Store, and getting something to eat, no doubt.

I just finished the most delicious sweet potato I've ever eaten. While my supper's chicken legs and thighs were roasting, the potato was their neighbor baking away. It was beautiful and perfect when I split it open. Butter, salt and pepper were all that was needed. The two small chicken legs were a plain and simple treat, as well. A tribute to locally raised fare they were flavorful with only a touch of salt, pepper and a whisper of cayenne while they roasted in a pie plate. The apple, celery and pecan salad was the perfect addition.

It's funny how simple stuff can be so comforting. The sweet potato came from Landis Supermarket that had its beginnings in Telford 76 years ago. The link takes you to its history. It's my favorite bigger store. The celery, apple and chicken came from R & J Farm Market on Allentown Road, Souderton, about 4 miles from here. No web site, but they can be found on Facebook. We get all our milk from them. They get the glass bottled milk from a small dairy over in Bucks County that doesn't add the hormones and such truck. R & J raises and butchers the chickens themselves. They must be a smaller breed since they are in the 2 1/2 - 4 lb. ranges. Really, really good eating. Two of Aidan's fresh-made, chocolate chip cookies rounded it off.

Aidan, our champion cookie maker.

The cold is really and truly here with single digits this early morning and a howling wind. Toby is surviving well in his duct tape, blanket igloo. Thank goodness for his kitty heating element, too. Between episodes of wind this week, I took a walk or two.

Austin and Twyla.

Wind.

The deer went through ahead of me.

Behind me...

...ahead of me.

Another afternoon while getting the mail across Ridge Road and a view of my home. Yes, we do have to cross the road to get the mail. Sometimes, the post person pulls into the driveway and sticks it behind the storm door if there is a box too large for the mailbox. They back out onto Ridge Road. Scary, but everybody does it.

Then, a few minutes ago Carol sent along proof of the rain Tucson is getting; actual grass is growing! Soon their horses will have a happy taste. I'll bet they'll love it as much as I loved my sweet potato.

Montana is paying attention over his gate.

My cousin is visiting in Florida, grass is growing in Tucson, a new baby great-grandson is in Utah. Maybe a road trip is calling. I'll listen...

Weather Watch

Central now to everyday life is the cold. This morning it went like this: early morning John searched for his little electric heater that warms his shower; found it in Keoni's bedroom where it warmed violin practice the afternoon before--so much for Keoni's sleep-in on a "delayed start" high school morning after the snow "bomb" turned out to be two inches. The boys' dressing goes far beyond the usual "Where are my shoes?" to "Where's my hat...gloves...coat...muffler...?"--you get the picture.

After my first layer of undies it takes me considerable time to crawl into the layer of long johns, pants, shirts, one or two pairs of socks, shoes, and Polartec vest--nevermind all the outdoor wear. Last year when I slipped on the thick snow crust and lay out in the front yard looking at the sky, I knew how Schultz' Charlie Brown felt after falling over in winter.

Of course, driving somewhere presents more time-eating attention. Warm up the engine while brushing or scraping the white fluff or frozen window ice off the car. Thank you, Subaru, for the heated front seats and all-wheel drive. Some days it's just better to stay home. Black ice days come to mind when you can watch the salt trucks whiz by, and the snowy days when the snow plows join the efforts.

Mostly, our road is kept clear. Getting on the road is up to us.

Last Friday--the road is salt-melted ice--the driveway is sheer glass.

Franconia Park has a flooded area for skaters and hockey games.

Headwaters of "Crooked Creek".

Crooked Creek on the other side of the new road.

Early Saturday morning glimpse of the night's snow-fall.

Aidan knows exactly what to do with a good snow-fall. The snowman lost the battle.

By afternoon Saturday, we piled in the car and met Keoni for his recital. Bob de Pasquale is his teacher and the church where this takes place houses a music academy, as well.

Bob de Pasquale.

Keoni at work doing what he loves.

Monday afternoon before the snow "bomb" that didn't happen there was, nevertheless, snow falling; just not very much in our area. Aidan called me outside to see what he'd discovered--every single snowflake is different from the others.

The flakes are better seen with his dad's magnifying glass.

Ice, Snow & How To Train Your Dragon

Texts to parents went out, schools closed early. The predicted snowfall came an hour or two later and after about a couple of hours it was over. An inch or two, at most. But pretty and went away fast today. So much for weather prediction drama.

It ain't over 'til it's over though.

For several evenings after most of the day's work, play and practices are over, Keoni and Aidan get together and practice the music to How To Train Your Dragon. Keoni plays it on the piano while the piano feeds it to the computer. Then, he and Aidan pick up their strings and accompany the piano playback from the computer via an amplifier they attached. It's from the scene where Hiccup and the injured dragon draw in the sand and become friends.

Quiet Reading, Basketball and Fox Calls

It's been a quiet few days at Ye Olde Homestead catching up on reading; books from under the Christmas tree, and my favorite e-news sites. Then, there are the magazine subscriptions I let lapse in Tucson that found me eight or ten months ago, making such rock-bottom, fantastic offers to "please come back" that I got too many of them. Now I'm trimming the fat by programming them all, except my three favorites (Harper's, The Atlantic, Arbor Day newsletter), to go away when the subscriptions run out--and NOT automatically renew!

Going away: National Geographic is a beautiful magazine and I always love the pictures, seldom reading the actual stories (too many are a present tense narrative of past happenings--what is that?), though I read a few of their series on world food. Mostly, their stories leave me sad and discouraged, as does the Audubon magazine. Smithsonian at $8 was the cheapest, and the coverage seems sort of like being in an emergency room looking at Reader's Digest--just eludes my attention. A sleeper good one turned out to be Arbor Day newsletters packed with good information, steadily adding trees to the planet, simple, upbeat. Cook's Illustrated has recipes I'll never cook, with an excellent editorial "Letter from Vermont" (that I get in email whether or not I'm subscribed as it turns out), lots of great drawings of kitchen stuff, helpful quick tips and equipment reviews, and no advertising except for the barrage of advertising for their own books in my mailbox both e- and snail-, and a very tricky maze of a web site that automatically subscribes you for you know not what until you get the bill--but they are good about canceling the "mistake" if you call them.

Somewhere, Cousin Jackie commented on a declining interest in the John Grisham books. I'll concur at this time after getting three-quarters through his latest, Gray Mountain. I actually like his Theodore Boone, Kid Lawyer ones better. Aidan enjoys them, and so do I.

The Beekeeper's Apprentice is a keeper. Reminds me a little of the recent BBC Sherlock series only with a female protagonist, yet written in a style reminiscent of Conan Doyle. The Language of Flowers is a page turner. I stopped Zoologies, by a Tucson writer and professor at U of A, for the same reason as NG, but I may pick it up later and see if the next story in it dispels that feeling. I'll be thinking about how the NG and Zoologies contrast with the Arbor Day newsletters.

Afternoons/evenings is cello practice...

Karma helping.

...Aidan had time to work in a short run over to Franconia Park to improve his basketball skills before the sun set. PE has moved to basketball and he wasn't satisfied with missing baskets.

Thursday.

It was interesting to watch him shoot baskets--or try, as the case may be--and catch the ball by stopping it with his foot mid-air as if it was soccer practice.

Friday: Sideways snow flurries don't show up in the photo.

Nearby geese were swirling around and honking.

Aidan said he could really tell the difference at school at Friday PE after his Thursday evening's efforts.

It is nearing lunchtime, the sun is beautiful, I'm hungry, and I'm taking Aidan to the park at 2 p.m. and no doubt there is time to finish Grisham before we get some pie or ice cream.

This morning's moonrise across Ridge Road. There were fox calls. 

Welcome, Kingston

Over in Utah, my granddaughter Sonja just delivered a 7 lb., 15 oz. baby boy. Kingston is my newest great-grandson. My family and my heart just got bigger.

Here are first looks...

Igloo

Winter has blasted away any doubts about her presence in Pennsylvania, or a lot of the nation the e-news tells me.

Yesterday, Toby gave up on his barn cat supremacy and begged at the back door for some wintertime relief; perhaps, remembering that he'd had a blanket-swathed, heating-padded hutch improvised just for him on the back porch last winter. Now the porch is situated to capture cool summer currents of air, so I was disappointed that he has stopped snuggling into the barn hay bales. I got busy early yesterday and had a hutch ready for him while he watched and sat on the swathing blankets, climbing into the structure before I could finish.

When I completed wrapping and duct-taping all in place while the wind deepened the 14 degree temperature, I could hear him purring in his "igloo".

The frame is Toby's wire crate atop a table, on cushions, rug, outdoor-proof electric pad, folded blanket layer, taped to table -- five throw-type blankets, taped again to table and door position taped.

Ahhhh...

Indoors, Karma the Fierce, parks on top the dishwasher or the clothes dryer when in use. Failing that she sits below the kitchen sink where a vent blows in hot air from some apparatus in the basement. she is the same color as the mat, and I've nearly stepped on her numerous times.

The temp stayed in the teens. When Keoni got off the bus from school he followed Karma's example...

...and fell asleep.

School started late a couple of mornings this week for the high school kids who weren't taking one of the mandatory tests they all have to do sometime during the tenth or eleventh (?) grades. I enjoyed listening to Keoni's morning practicing in the music room before he was driven to school.

He's starting a beard.

Scrape, Scrape, Scrape

Since dawn, a light powdery snow has fallen. Wendy and one of the boys is out there scraping away snow along the walkways and parking. Her day began early this morning...

Wendy putting hay out in the pasture for the goats.

This late afternoon a weak winter sun went down behind Neighbor Joe's barn.

It is interesting how Keoni and Aidan's snow appreciation evolved in a mere year's time. November's snow held their interest for a little while -- today's has raised little comment. They already know they can't build much of a snowman out of powdery snow. They now know from experience the wet stuff works best --and, of course, the better snowball.

Shopping at Walmart with Aidan on Sunday afternoon...

A tour through Walmart sporting goods was part of a quick trip for ink jet cartridges.

School is back in session as of Monday. Homework litters the tables. I'm enjoying a lot of reading and huddle near my wonderful room oil heater John brought from the basement for me.

It's time to ferry Keoni over to his friend Nathan's house for their movie evening before Nathan heads back to U Penn.

Monday morning we saw the clouds parting while the moon set.

Come in 2015 and Stay Awhile

First, a hearty, healthy, Happy New Year!

Then, let's catch up a bit with the last of the December days; providing I can piece it all together...

Somewhere in there I caught cold, coughed a lot, got better, joined Silver Sneakers at the Y, swam and showered at the Y (helped the well-water supply while visitor was here), ate Wendy's roast beast Christmas dinner, ate at a minimum of two potlucks, ate Wendy's wonderful caramel rolls Christmas morning, opened presents, played cards and games, got a weird itchy skin allergy (thanks for being there, Benedryll), tried out new hearing aids, attended concerts, taxied busy Keoni to/from Lansdale train station, Aidan and he to/from rehearsals...hmm, lost a pound, too!...

Well, you get the picture.

Here's some catch up in the visual department...

Aidan's school Christmas concert.

Aidan accompanied the church choir's Christmas Concert.

Chef Aidan's Saturday breakfast for us: including table service!

Pumpkin and Coconut Pancakes. Yum!

Aidan and Keoni rehearse with Seth for Sunday 28th service.

Sunday the 28th.

A friend at church took pictures of us after the Sunday service.

Keoni and Aidan.

...and with their cousin Iliana who visited Christmas week.

Happy grandma.

John and Wendy

...and a mom and daughter.

Where Keoni is going to high school there is a remarkably wonderful chorus. The Phillies have invited them back to sing at a home game in April. Keoni accompanied some of their Christmas concert choral pieces. Here is one by Andrew Lloyd Webber which is a favorite of mine.




Frezz rattled the household late one night having somehow yanked down a section of fence and escaped into the darkness. One and a half hours later two of the family members found him panting and filthy at the edge of a neighbor's pasture and heading toward home. His collar was gone and he was really, really tired. He was actually quite subdued for a couple of days. My speculation runs that he found deer to chase a long way; then, had to figure out how he got wherever he was and negotiate possible fences to get himself back home. Plus, he's a good part Anatolian shepherd and doesn't care a bit when you call him if he's not really hungry.

A shoutout to Carol...thanks, for the beautiful Tucson sunrise picture to remember this view that was a part of my mornings so many, many times.

This had a very similar view from where I lived.

Wendy set the stage last night for caramel rolls again this holiday morning. I was asleep early for a New Year's Eve; so, I don't know what might have taken place at midnight.