Twas the Day After Christmas and All Through the House...

Yesterday we could see the mountains of Glacier

It's freezing in here--well, 52 degrees anyway (inside--26 outside). I have become my parents: they kept our house 50 degrees at night and 62 during the day. I hated it when I was growing up, and Jessie hates it now, but I strangely like it. Fortunately for Jessie, the radiant heat from the floor in the basement keeps her room and bathroom a bit warmer. Today looks like a good day to try out a fire in the stove down there too. There is a vent in the dining room on the main floor for passive heat from it. Today we'll see how well it works. 

Snowing this morning!

I am going on and on about the temperature as this is one of the first mornings I have been out of bed before 9:00 am. I wake early, but it's so cozy under the down comforter that I hang and read for awhile before getting up. This morning, however, I had someone coming to service the gas fireplace on the main floor--our main source of heat--so I was up and dressed by 8:00. I turned on the heat, made coffee, and watched it snow while waiting for the guys. Sadly they forgot to tell me that the unit needed to be cold for them to take it apart and clean it so off they went, promising to return sometime next week. Back to the snow. It's snowing!! Little, fine flakes, but snow!

This Christmas was one of our best ever. I usually overdo, buy too many presents (spend too much money), and burn both myself and everyone around me out. This year we stuck to two presents and stockings, each and it was glorious. Dave got hiking poles for us and we started the afternoon with a long walk up the hill behind our house (it's tribal conservation land). Then, for the first time, we walked around our own property. Wow is it big!! Turi is gong to be one happy horse. The former owner created little resting/viewing areas and cairns across the property which are just stunning--and so fun to stumble upon while walking. our land is also mostly hill slopes so we followed animal trails up and down and around.

Dave and the Pablo Reservoir on our walk

Today I begin work on Dave's Christmas present. I learned my lesson about the necessity for proper fittings from the sweater I knitted him a few years ago, and this year's effort is too precious to waste. Details tomorrow...

Enjoying my new walking poles

The happy campers

Dave heading to the top of the hill

A Carnivore's Responsibility

View from the Nest (tm Anya)

Yesterday I spent the late afternoon arranging the furniture in my Nest. I borrow that name from Anya as for the first time I have a small, cozy (the word of the year) space for sewing, spinning, and other lap fiber crafts. It's almost like a tower room as it is at the top of the house, a smaller mirror-image of the master bedroom and has three sets of windows. The bedroom faces east to the Missions, the Nest faces west towards the Flathead river and the Salish Mountains beyond. Dave helped me wrestle the new cozy chair purchased the other day in, and then made me a Negroni to sip as I watched the sunset from it.

This morning there is fog in the valley and sun up here and across to the mountains. I am, as usual, in the cozy chair in my nook in the dining room, enjoying an iced latte and a Croffle from Bayside Riser. My wonderful spouse went out foraging first thing this morning before I was even awake and brought me sugary goodness and caffeinated sustenance. 

Today marks a new point in life for me: I put my money where my mouth is and I am assisting in butchering and packaging half a steer this afternoon. I like to eat meat. I LOVE steak. I love beef, chicken, pork, duck, venison, elk, bison... the list goes on. I also believe in responsibly and humanely farming the animals. I could go to the grocery store (or, rather, Dave could as he does all the food shopping) and buy cellophane-wrapped, sanitized meat in a package without a care as to where it came from, or how the animal that provided it was treated during its life. I could pay money and support the factory farming system. Or I could pay more and trust the marketers who label meat organic, free-range, grass-fed, etc. Frankly, I don't trust those marketers. Every one of those claims could be "true" and the animal could still have had a miserable life and/or end of life. Being a control freak, I found a way to know about every step in the life of my food. 

There is local rancher who raises all his cattle completely free-range on grass. He supplements with hay and a bit of grain in the winter, but the animals are still out in the field, in their herd. They are hormone, antibiotic, and everything-else free. They are never jammed into cattle cars and trucked to a feed lot to stand in misery and filth, eating grain and not exercising so that their meat gets softer and fat, (the way most people like it) until they are killed one after the other by strangers whose only job is the slaughter and butchering. They live their lives free and as comfortable as living outdoors in Montana in the winter can be until they are humanely killed at home by a person they know and who knows them. No fear, no stress. I know it's weird that all of that makes me more at peace with being a carnivore, but it does.

I do not expect today to be easy. It is hard thinking that an animal that was living a week ago is now not living because I want to eat it. But if I want to eat it, I should own the rest of the process and take part in the rendering of that animal into food. As I do, I will give thanks to it for feeding us. Were I a better person, I would be a vegetarian or only eat meat from hunted--not farmed--animals. And I would also do the hunting myself. (I will not go into the necessity of humans hunting and our responsibility to keep down the prey populations since there are not enough other predators left to do it. That's a rant for another day.) 

However I am not yet that person. Maybe next year.

Life Goes On

It used to be I'd start my posts with what coffee mug I was drinking and what music I was listening too. Now it's where we are in relation to the clouds. We are inbetweeners today: Polson and the wildlife refuge are shrouded in fog below, there are clouds above the tops of the Missions, but we and the mountains are clear and eye-to-eye. And I am never going to get tired of leaning over, sliding open the patio door, and snapping this view from my cozy chair!

Yesterday with Turi (the equine companion) was wonderful!! I spent almost no time with him over the summer between time on renovations of my parents house and moving here--I hadn't seen him at all for two months until yesterday! He let me know it too. He looked at me, and then pointedly looked away when I walked up to the paddock to halter him and take him to the barn for his turn with Sadie the vet. Instead of coming right to me (his usual behavior) he made me slog through the gooey wet mud in my little suede WalMart boots to get him. Ugh. (I put Mucks Tall Chore Boots on my Christmas list when  I got home). But when I brought him into the indoor arena to check him out, he was AMAZING!! I let him off lead and just walked/ran around the arena with him at liberty, and he stayed right with me! Wer swooped and turned and he pranced and kicked up his heels and was my perfect boy. I am sooooo looking forward to bringing him home this spring.

When I got home from the barn (I drove the grey beast--my favorite vehicle) I unpacked my goodies from Harbor Freight which included two truck ramps and a big Yukon tool chest. I put the wheels on the tools chest in the back of the pickup, put the brackets on the ramps, and then Dave and I wheeled the tool chest out of the pickup and down the ramp. There is no way we could have lifted it out. As it was, it skittered kind of fast down the ramp.

By then it was dark, but not too late for either UPS and FedEx who both delivered packages to our door. Our driveway is a half mile long (I measured). It is gravel/dirt, one lane, twisty, narrow, and uphill. And they STILL deliver to our door! USPS, on the other hand, not only doesn't bring packages up the drive--or leave them at the bottom of the drive, but they don't even bother leaving slips! Going to have to have a talk with them today...

And that's enough babbling. I'd forgotten how much I liked the morning ritual of posting. It's not as good as my regular coffee with Zaga, but it's going to have to do till she gets here this summer! Biscuits and gravy are ready (thanks Dave) got to go.

PS-Dee, horse pics tomorrow, and Anya, yes! fulltime!

I Have My View Back!!

Northeast from my cozy chair 

Today is another day out and about, and I still have to shower, but the reemergence of the views from the house merit a quick post! These are pretty much the same shots I took yesterday, but even though it's still cloudy, you can see all the way to the mountains on all sides.

Southeast to the Mission Mountains-my favorite view

Today I am off to the barn where I stable Turi. The vet is coming for vaccinations and deworming, the farrier is coming for winter shoes, the dentist is coming to check and grind (I think), and the chiropractor is coming because every horse needs a good adjustment! For me it means a lovely, chilly, winter day spent with my horse. I won't ride, but I will brush and treat and hang with him. 

South to the hill behind the house

For the near future I am keeping him where I currently board him as what the hell do I know about caring for a horse?!? But this spring I plan to get him a companion (donkey? llama? horse for Dave?) and bring him home. This house has a paddock, a tack room, feed storage, and a loafing shed. No, I did not make that up. Apparently the shelters for animals that have no doors are called loafing sheds. Additionally the entire 33 acres the house sits on is fenced so they could free range (like the llamas that used to live here did).

Off to dress and shower! Long sleeved shirt? check. Jeans? check. Cozy vest? check. Warm glove and scarf? check. Work boots? No, but sneakers!

North to Flathead Lake and towards Glacier Park

West over the Flathead River to the Salish Mountains

A Rural Life

Grey Beast and Scoot Scoot

Pomeranian sleeping on my slipper as I get in a quick post before heading into Missoula for banking and shopping. Going to take the Grey Beast today so I can haul a tool cabinet from Harbor Freight and a chair from Furniture Row. Hope she starts. The Beast is a 1989, 4WD, Ford F150 that I bought from a friend last year so I could Haul Sh*t (including a horse trailer). It turns out to be very useful as it is also the vehicle we are using to truck the garbage from the house down to the bear-proof (saying that never gets old) garbage can at the end of the drive. It's about a 20 minute walk down the drive (no, really... well, maybe only 15), so hauling the bags on foot one at a time is Not Feasible. 

Hoar frost

The world outside my window is also still grey this morning, and the hoar frost is even longer. Makes me just want to cuddle up in a chair with a cozy blanket and read all day, but not today. Today I go to the Big City for supplies. Polson has Safeway and Super One for groceries, Ace and Western Building Supply for Hardware, and WalMart and Murdoch's Ranch and Home Supply for everything else. If you need anything else, you go to Kalispell or Missoula for Home Depot, Lowe's, Target, Costco, Harbor Freight, Butterfly Herbs (not all destinations have to be big box stores), etc.

Still need to shower, set up the printer for Jessie, and get the truck defrosted and warmed up, so I had best finish my coffee and get to it. Got a lunch date and an afternoon visit to old friends to set up too.

Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful, but the Fire is So Delightful!

The view from my cozy chair

Sitting in my cozy corner in the new house (located in the dining room, of all places) and looking out the window at... well, you can see for yourself! This is not the way I remember Montabna winters being--though that is probably because I have always lived down in the valley instead of up on the hill. Up here at Coyote Song (now officially named for the romping and singing we hear almost daily), we are IN the clouds. All day every day for the past several days it has been white as far as the eye can see (which, to be honest, isn't very far). And it's not snow--it's hoar frost! And it is cold... High 20's every day. But I am still soooo glad we finally moved here!

Part of living in Montana in December is (re)learning a whole new skill set. So far I have mastered the gas fireplace (our small, primary source of heat), and am learning how to use the atv with the plow on the front, and manage garbage until we can drive it down to the bear-proof garbage can at the bottom of the drive (which is to say some enormous, to-be-measured-later distance). e got a cord of wood for the stove downstairs but haven't had a real fire in it yet. The closest I have  come is burning packing material and junk mail. That's mostly because we do not have a sitting area set up down there yet (though we got a small love seat last week to put down in front of the stove for cozy reading. The main room down there will house the games table when I finish repairing it from the move. It was badly packed and lost a leg. Once it's up J and I will do puzzles down there, and Dave and I will play games.

Frost whiskers on our porch raccoon

Jessie rarely leaves the downstairs. We have the radiant floor heat on all the time down there, and she also has a small space heater in her room so it's nice and toasty. The main floor is noticeably cooler as the gas fireplace is really small, and there are high ceilings and openings into the rooms on the upstairs floor--which has no heat at all except for a small space heater in Dave's office. The upstairs--our bedroom, the master bath, Dave's office and my sewing room--are quite chilly. But since we have a Mr Big down comforter from Three Dog Down (big enough no one can steal the covers) on the bed, whenever we are are upstairs we are just fine. In fact I am warmer and more comfy in this house than I ever was in Austin when it was cold. I think it's mostly because it's not damp here, and the house isn't as cavernous as there. 

Enough talk of the cold! Time to bindle up and go pick up another load of stuff at the old house--small trailer and sheets of plywood to put up walls in the shed/new glass studio. Pictures are all from today.

Looking down the front porch steps

The garden in front of the front steps

Poor Austin rose on the back deck

The greenhouse behind the house

Looking up at the hill behind the house

The vast, empty nothingness all around

Day 20? Day 43?

We have been in our new home for 43 days, but as I have only been here for 20 days, I'm not sure how to count it! While Dave has held down the fort (and the cats), I have been laboriously transporting our lives and belongings from Austin to Polson in a 16 ft trailer towed by a 2002 Ford Excursion (it's for sale if you want one!) or in 26-ft UHaul trucks. Four trips, two with each vehicle configuration, and I am done. Well sort of done if you don't count the last trip I will have to make with the 4Runner and the small trailer to pick up some wood (ironically purchased a few years ago in Montana and carried down to Texas), a loom, and some finished glass work. That trip will happen when the Austin house sells or spring, whichever comes first.

I meant to start posting again on Day 1 as I am that kind of a girl. The kind that can't watch a series on  tv without starting at Season 1, Episode 1--even if the person with whom I am watching it has already seen all of Season 1 and the first episode of Season 2... (Dave!). The kind that has to have ALL the possible crayon colors (currently Crayola has120 in production of the 400 they ever made). But here I am, breaking the mold, being a little less rigid, and starting in the middle of the beginning...

Dave put up the new Christmas tree today. It is new because the tree we had in the Austin house (9 ft) was just too big for the new house. Now we have a lovely little 7-footer, and it's just right. Too big/too much for the new house is the story of our lives right now, as we have seriously downsized on house (while upsizing on land). When we  moved from Atlanta to Austin eight years ago there were seven UHaul loads (I think--it is a bit of a blur in my memory). To get everything down to the four trips for this move, we had to divest A LOT. 

I didn’t want to add to the landfill so I tried to find homes for the things we decided not to keep. I sold some online, I donated some to various charities and Goodwill (a lot of effort to load, drive, and unload), and I still had mountains of stuff to deal with. I was overwhelmed and in way over my head, and then Angie the Estate Girl stepped in and took care of EVERYTHING. By the time I found her, I would have happily given everything we still had away just to get rid of the headache and stress. Instead I handed it all over to Angie and she not only managed to sell far more than I would have thought possible, but she also coordinated the donation of items that didn't sell, and the disposal of items that couldn't be donated. She (and her crew) were warm, friendly, professional, honest, supportive, and incredibly hard-working. I could not recommend them more. I cannot stress enough how STUPID I was trying to sell and give away our lifetime's worth of belongings without Angie! My recommendation: Do yourself a favor and hire her to help you move on to the next stage in your life or to assist you in dealing with someone else’s lifetime of stuff. If you're not in Austin, find another good estate sales agent.

I wasn't there, but Angie had an estate sale in Austin last weekend and we made out like bandits on stuff that I was trying (and failing) to give away. It was a three-day event, and at the end everything that didn't sell and could be donated was (handled by Angie), and everything that couldn't be donated was hauled off in a dumpster (again, coordinated by Angie). 

The Austin house will probably go on the market in the new year when our fabulous real estate agent Dina deems it ready (repairs, painting, cleaning, staging...). In the meantime, we settle into our new life on in a house on the hill on 33 acres in Montana overlooking Flathead Lake, the Mission Mountains, the one million acre Bob Marshall Wilderness area, and the Pablo National Wildlife Refuge. On a clear day we can almost see Glacier National Park to the north.

Another Storm Cometh

I got back home from Florida a week ago, and I am just now getting back to a normal life and schedule--including posting! When I arrived home (7 pm last Thursday), there were so many trees down on our drive that Dave couldn't pick me up at the airport. The Uber driver even had difficulty getting me home as one of the main highways on the way home was closed due to downed power lines. At home the power had been out since 7:30 am. It was dark, but not too cold as Dave had a fire going. He had done some fancy cooking over the fire when the poower was out the night before (photos in the last post), and I continued the trend by toasting myself a bagel. Best bagel I ever ate--smokey, everything-bagel, and melty cream cheese.

Friday dawned still cold, but no longer freezing, and the last of the ice melted off the ground during the day. Dave was resigned to not being able to get to the office, and we hunkered down by the fire. I wore my Minus33 long underwear, jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater. Zaga came over and I boiled water and heated cream on the fire for French press coffee. It was surprisingly easy and good--albeit the pan of water kept tipping and spilling into the fire when the logs moved...

When I went outdoors I layered up with a sweater vest, a hat, and combo mittens/fingerless gloves. This Montana girl was not daunted! (It actually felt kind of wimpy out for so much devastation and lingering problems--the power outage). In the afternoon an enterprising crew from a tree company came t the door and bid on removing all our downed trees. We took their bid, as did Dan and Zaga next door. They cleared our drive, vowed to come back the next day, and we haven't seen them since. Fortunately no money has changed hands and we can get a car down the drive, so we can wait.

Like other preppers (in our case posters), we went to Walmart that afternoon for supplies, and got candles (not regular ones as they were sold out, but they had a lot of the tall glass religious ones for $1.57 each--sweet!), a grill rack to put in the fireplace to cook over, and a cast-iron griddle to cook grilled cheese sandwiches on over the fire for dinner. 

That evening we lit every pillar candle I ever bought in our married life as well as the new glass-jar ones and some beeswax advent tapers I found from years ago. I thought I had finally thrown all the old pillars away last fall as they were very dusty and we hadn't lit them in YEARS. I was glad to find I hadn't gotten around to it. Proof positive that as soon as you throw something out, you are going to need it. I am never throwing anything away again. Then we moved the games table over in front of the fire and spent the evening playing Terraforming Mars. One game lasts a few hours, and we ended up going through quite a few of the beeswax advent tapers. Pro tip: Take a plate, melt the bottoms of several little advent tapers. and stick them to the plate for a great improve candelabra.

When we finally went to bed (the cotton sheets under a down comforter are FREEZING in a cold room!), we made bets as to when the power would come back on. Dave said Saturday afternoon, and I was sure it wouldn't be till Monday morning. We were both wrong as it was back by Saturday morning. We were lucky. We were only without power for three days. There are still 451 active outages in Austin with over 2,000 people affected a week after the outage started. Austin Energy hopes to have all power restored by Sunday the 12th. In the meantime, flood warnings and thunderstorms today. Definitely time to look into a way to flip our solar over from the grid to us so we can access it during an outage.

Girding My Loins to Arrive Home to Icemageddon

Just finished a Sweetwater beer and a burger in the Atlanta airport, and am now on the plane and charging every device I have with me--laptop, iPad, iPhone, Muse meditation device. I even bought a big laptop charging battery in the airport and am charging it for Dave. We are still without power at home with no idea of when it might be restored. I also heard from both Dave and Zaga that we lost a lot of oak trees from ice and breakage. As I understand it,  there are so many trees down in our drive now that Dave can't get down it with a vehicle until I do 2-3 days of chainsawing. Guess I'll be Ubering home from the airport. 

The pictures are courtesy of Dave, who cooked merguez sausage and leftover golden potatoes in the fireplace tonight. I am convinced he did it as much for experience points as for hunger. Thank heaven we got that half cord of wood earlier in the winter. Now if we just had a generator or a way to switch our solar from the grid to our own use when the power is out...

This is the last time I am caught by stupid winter in Austin. I am going into full-on prepper mode, and will be ready for power outages with their dark, and cold, and meat-ruining abilities next year. I am afraid to know the current state of the meat in the freezer (all of the wild game and other exotic meat I got Dave for his birthday). We can't even get to the store to buy a bunch of bags of ice to throw in there to keep it cold. Never again. We have solar that produces 25-115 kWh of electricity a day--all of which is dumped when the power goes out and the grid is turned off. With the current state of batteries, there is no way to store enough to run the house, but we could go to emergency rationing at night, and probably get by during the day. 

Good-bye Florida Sun, Hello Austin Ice

My time in Florida comes to an end tomorrow. We left the condo in Cedar Key and did a little shopping in Ocala (bead store and quilt store), before splitting up and heading back to our respective lives. I drove to Sarasota to deliver J's car to her, and to meet the boyfriend and have dinner with the two of them. It has been a bittersweet day: I miss Dave, Rémy, and the cats, but the weather here has been particularly fine and my only responsibilities have been to sleep, eat, craft, meditate, do yoga, and be somewhat social. Of course, now that I am not gainfully employed, most of my days may end up being like that! 

Cedar Key had a lovely small-town vibe, and  was relatively empty of tourists. Maybe the majority of the "locals" were snowbirds, but at this time of year there weren't gaggles of families with whiny, sticky, sunburned children clogging everything up. It was refreshing to see a median age of (I'd guess) 65. Or maybe I mean average age... Bah. It's math, and Dave's not here so it'll just be whatever I want it to be. Anyway, they were comfortably rowdy, rumpled, grizzled and grey-haired--and that was just the women! The sunsets could not be beat, and the stillness refreshed my soul.

It was good to spend time with my friends on the annual trip--and I picked a particularly auspicious time to be gone as it's in the 70's and sunny here, while it's freezing ice, downed tree limbs, and electrical outages in Austin! I'm glad my flight tomorrow isn't due in till late--hopefully everything will have had a chance to melt and Dave will have been able to clear the driveway of downed tree limbs. Last night for our farewell dinner we went to the Big Deck Raw Bar & Grill for dinner and some stompin' good live  music (really. everyone was stomping). They had an amaaaazing selection of bourbon, and I ended dinner with a shot of Blanton's, ice on the side. There were only two women working the front of the house and one cook in the back, and it was PACKED). The one who waited on us as we sat at the bar--the only available seats in the place--was VERY generous with her pour... I ended up carrying some of it home there was so much.

In line with being a newly poor, unemployed person, I am staying at a motel called the "Golden Host Resort" in Sarasota. It is also close to Ringling so will be easy to have lunch with J before heading to the airport.

It is cutie-patootie and claims to house Florida's oldest Tiki Bar, the Bahi Hut. It also has a saltwater pool, drag bingo on Sunday, and other scintillating activities throughout the week. It looks to be a 1950's/60's originally side-of-the-highway-now-in-town motel, with a really spiffy remodel. The shower floor is a beautiful pebble mosaic, the fridge and microwave are 1960's baby blue replicas, and the furniture (chair and tables) is Jetson's chic. Seems clean, and has a comfortable bed--what more could I ask? And I might need to stay an extra day if the weather in Austin continues to suck. 

Okay, off to meditate before heading to dinner. Cute as the room is, I don't think I'll get down on the floor--even with my mat--to do yoga.

It's All About the Handwork

Coffee in a lovely sea green ceramic mug, Lynne's podcast on metal clay and the lapping of waves and the calls of the gulls for my music. Photo at right courtesy of Lynne, who is an avid and excellent photographer. This time in Florida is a time of focused, creative recharge. I brought four projects with me--two beading and two textile. I have so far worked on three of the four, and will start the fourth today. I have also meditated at least once a day, done yoga every day, and moved January from "dry" to "moist"... or maybe a little more damp than that. It's not sopping wet yet, but there are still two more days! Oh, and if all that wasn't enough, I finally figured out the premise for an urban fantasy series I have long wanted to write. More on that in another post. Today, it's all about the craft(s). 

Project I is a 3-D beading endeavor. On last year's January trip I visited Jumping Mouse Beads, a friend's bead shop in Blue Ridge GA. She had a frosted blue bottle with a peyote (bead, not hallucinogen) abstract sleeve on the neck that she used for a display prop. I fell in love with it, and convinced her to sell it to me. Since then I have wanted to do my own 3-D bead overlay, and the current project is a beaded deer antler. The idea, antler, and instruction came from Laura at Austin Bead Gallery 

I realized when I arrived here that I had neglected to finish drilling the holes in the antler, and had not bring any kind of hole-making apparatus. I am a resourceful mammal with a credit card so was undaunted. However, Cedar Key is a small town... village... dot on the map. It's smaller than Polson--our summer home in Montana. When we walked around the corner to the town's hardware store we discovered that they don't carry power tools. Nor did they have a manual hand drill. (Insert shocked face emoji here). So we all piled into Becky's car and drove 30 miles to the Ace Hardware in Chiefland to acquire a Dremel and a couple of 1/16" drill bits. 

Back at the house-on-stilts, I drilled the remaining holes and set to beading. It's a completely unstructured project where both the beads and the stitches I use are at will and at random. I have just started this project, so there is a lot of bare antler and not very many beads--though there are more beads on the underside. But hat will change. By today even.

A couple of hours later, I switched to Project II: an art deco-style beaded necklace by Linda Richmond with two gorgeous Swarovski crystal square rings for the focal point. It uses peyote, herringbone, and brick stitches, and came as a kit so I didn't need to design the colors or scrounge the materials--enabling me to just focus on the technique. 

After a couple of hours I had an inch and a quarter done... and three and a half inches more to go on the first small section. A bit daunting, but I reminded myself that it is all about the journey--and went to take a nap. Napping is a HUGE component of creativity--especially when nit is prefaced with a glass of wine.

After napping and before dinner I worked on Project III:Norah's Vintage Afghan, a Berroco pattern which incorporates different colors and stitches in a series of knitted squares. I started this project pre-Covid or early Covid, and am about one quarter of the way through. I am not going to put it down again till I finish it. Ironically, when I first started it, I enthused about it so much to another friend that she also got the pattern... and then knitted the whole thing. To add insult to injury, she made it with the wool I brought back from Iceland for her. I, of course, have done nothing with any of my Icelandic wool. (Insert eye-rolling emoji here). I suppose if I make it a requirement to knit something with the plötulopi (a special kind of Icelandic yarn) I brought home before I can go to Iceland again, I might get in gear and knit a sweater... or maybe a tunic... a scarf?

Today I begin another new project, a crocheted mandala afghan from Annie's Kit Clubs. I'm making the multi-color one on the right, and I know I won't have any trouble finishing this one as I already completed one of their other crocheted afghan patterns (in record time for me) last year, and I loved doing it. I gave it to Jessie, and she liked it enough she took it to college this year as her one blanket from home. This was quite an honor as she has at least three other hand-made blankets she could have chosen. 

Okay, enough with the writing about crafting, on to the crafting!

I am With the Other Old People in Florida

No coffee, the sounds of food prep done by others as music while the house-on-stilts where we are staying in Cedar Key sways beneath us. It's like being back on a cruise ship. Apparently I was able to sway the whole house by doing yoga last night after the others went to bed. I would NOT want to be here in a high wind.

There is no place like Florida in the winter time: Birds, breezes, empty beaches--and golf carts galore. On the way to the beer shack last evening, I saw a cart bedecked with pirate skeletons and sea booty. Now THAT was a golf cart I would drive! I'm sorry I didn't get a picture, but the week is young. Pre-covid, I used to spend a long weekend every January in Destin for a spin-in. Imagine a conference room in a resort, filled with hard-eyed, hard-drinking, hard-shopping, hand spinners of all ages, pronouns, and declensions, and you get the picture. It was my January Joy. But the average age was probably 60 so the Boomer Doom (aka Covid) killed the in-person meeting. It still goes on (it's happening this weekend even), but over zoom. I am so heartily sick of zoom that it would have to be a really incredible live activity for me to be willing to join it. Until we have VR headsets with other sensory input (smells, temperature) for zoom, count me out. Even then, count me out.

Florida is also old people. Wise people. My kind of people. (See above: hard-eyed, hard-drinking...). Except for the dearth of teeth. I'll go gray. I'll take wrinkles and saggy boobs, but I will not give up my teeth. 

So, old people. Let's talk about old people for a moment. When I was 27, a friend and I were making tiropita for the University of Chicago's annual linguistics conference (CLS)--traditionally catered by the first year grad students. Yours truly was the organizer for my year and I decided to do a Greek feast--hence the tiropita. Karen Deaton and I made HUNDREDS of little phyllo pastry cheese pies--many of them while watching Lethal Weapon. There is one scene where Mel Gibson walks to the refrigerator naked. No stunt butt. We were watching on VHS, and we used the rewind button to watch him walk back and forth, and back and forth, and back forth like a Hobbit (there and back again) as we cackled like mad . I see that Mel now, and I could not be less interested. Absolutely zip, zero, zilch attraction for me. But Mel Gibson now, in Fat Man... The Mel Gibson that looks like my spouse on a craggy day... Now THAT is a hot guy. 

I am aware that I have been becoming invisible to younger people. I am gradually being replaced by an old-person cut-out. Arguably, for anyone under 30, I have been unknowingly there for awhile. But it is more apparent to me now as I am more often looked through than looked at. And I remember looking at "old" people when I was in my 20's and thinking how horrible it must be to be old, and no longer attractive, and looked through by the young and vibrant. Now I recognize that thought as spawned by the arrogance and ignorance of youth, and I chuckle, quietly and evilly, to myself realizing that I look through them as much as they look through me. Thirty-somethings are not remotely attractive to me, (apologies to friends in their 30's but...). Instead, they seem larval and I feel parental. I know someday they will be interesting, but right now all they've got is hubris.

Returning to the beer shack of yesterday, my "type" now must have grey hair--or at least salt and pepper, weather-worn skin with lots of laugh lines, and a solid, relaxed, I'm good-in-my-skin-ness that (for most people) does not come before 55 or 60. A man who knows how to laugh, live, and love for today. As I looked at the scruffy, old, hippy guys sitting and watching the world go by, I felt an urge to flirt. Obviously not because I am looking for anything, but because I was attracted, and felt like appreciatively expressing that attraction. Well-oiled, sleek, firm bodies on the beach just irritate me and make me want to yell "Get Out of My Sun!"--the old woman equivalent to "Get Off My Lawn".

There is Still Coffee

(For Bill...) Coffee in the lovely, personalized, travel mug that Zaga laser-engraved for me before our transatlantic cruise last fall, Rémy whimpering for biscotti as my music. Apparently, dogs like anise, and Rémy LOVES biscotti. 

Short post today as I am still in a biscotti coma from yesterday's writing, and I also have a ton of stuff to do before heading off to Florida on Thursday for a crafting trip, and to deliver Jessie's car to her so she can get back and forth to work. Today, I wear many hats. I play:

• An electrician - finishing up wiring three way dimmable smart switches in the house
• A seamstress - can't say what I am sewing as it's a surprise gift
• A small-business owner - orders to ship from my Etsy store

I am purposely going to leave paying bills (including the property taxes... whew!), looking for work, filling out unemployment logs, and moving mesquite wood into the wood shop for turning until tomorrow. Dave is tired of electrical switches hanging out of the wall and catching on his sweater, but the living room switch box is so small and has so many switches in it that I am having a hard time getting everything stuffed back in without accidentally disconnecting a wire or two in the process. Stupid switch box.

Writing all of those to-do's makes it even more weird that I am still struck when I see my Google calendar totally empty for the week. No meetings, no appointments, no time-boxed activities. Wow, is that nice! At some point I am going to have to do taxes. Ah, January. I knew it was more than the dreary weather that made me dislike you so!

Techniques of F*ing Refinement

Intro

La Croix sparkling water in a can as I catch my breath after yoga and post. The sound of the oven, which has been producing delectables all the live-long day, is my music. The post today is named for Dave, as he is usually the one in the house who combines magic, science, and cookery into something really amazing. True to form, he is currently braising the most exquisite-smelling Korean short ribs. But this post isn't about the short ribs--or any of Dave's cookery. Nope. Today was my day to kick butt and take names in the kitchen as I upped my biscotti game. 

Today I made four kinds--two keto two regular--with four different kinds of dark chocolate--one keto (sugar-free) and three regular ranging from 55% to 72% cocoa --in five batches. I planned to make four batches, but I accidentally doubled one of the ingredients in one of the batches and had to double the batch. But that's okay because it was the regular Stella Parks straight recipe that got doubled, and I already know it's perfect so it served as the control group. The biscotti shown above are (from left to right):

• Regular (almond/anise) with Lily's dark chocolate
• Regular with almond flour and monkfruit sweetener
• Regular with Guittard Extra Dark
• Regular with almond flour and allolose
• Regular with Ghirardelli 72% cocoa 

The basics of biscotti

I mentioned previously that Stella Parks is my baking guru. I wrote about her pie crust recipe, and today I delve into her take on biscotti. First, let me say, I do not like licorice. Anise is similar to licorice. I am not usually attracted to recipes that call for anise. The Stella Park's biscotti recipe is loaded with anise, but the flavor profile is so well-balanced that it works. 

What makes good biscotti? First and foremost, it must be hard. Biscotti is meant to be dipped, and there are few things more disappointing than the tip of the biscotti plopping off into your coffee and sluggishly swimming around dissolving in it. It also has to be sturdy--hold together and not crumble in the tin. Finally, it needs a complex, delicate flavor. An additional requirement for me today--as I made five batches and I only eat a piece a day--is it should have a long shelf-life. Stella Parks recipe has all of those things:

• It is satisfyingly rock-like
• It stays in one, perfect piece when cut
• The blend of vanilla, toasted whole almonds, and chopped anise seeds is sublime
• It has no fat in it so it lasts *forever*

I have made this recipe a few times in past couple of months, and though it requires precision and paying attention, it is not difficult. You toast the almonds, roughly chop them and the anise, mix the chopped bits with the rest of the dry ingredients using the stand mixer, add three cold eggs, and blend until smooth. Then you make a loaf from the dough, roll it out till it is as long as the half-sheet pan you bake it on, and pat it flat until it measures 17" x 4" x 1/2". It is baked in three stages. The first, and half the total baking time is unttil it is puffy and just beginning to brown. At that point you take it out of the oven and let it cool five minutes on the pan and then five minutes more on the cutting board. When is just warm and no longer hot, you cut it into 1/2" slices with a thin serrated knife, and put the slices on their sides and they go back into the oven for 12 minutes on one side and then 12 minutes on the other side, and Bob's your uncle! (That means they're done).

Today's bunch of batches is in preparation for meeting up with some friends in Florida at the end of the week. As some of them are big keto-ers, I decided to play with the recipe a bit and make:

• almond/anise (the regular recipe, two batches)
• pistachio (no anise, otherwise the regular recipe)
• keto almond/anise with almond flour and monk fruit
• keto almond/anise with almond flour and allulose

Adding another variable to the experiment

Chocolates used

Even though the biscotti is perfectly flavored on its own, I also wanted to try tempering chocolate and drizzling it over some f the slices. For those who are not familiar with the term "tempering" (like me before the other day), tempered chocolate is chocolate that has melted and hardened in such a way that it forms just the right crystalline structure. Chocolate, you see, is a six-phase polymorphic crystal because of the cocoa butter in it, and the optimal polymorphic form is Form V, also known as beta-V. "Beta crystals are composed of triglyceride molecules interlocked in a way that makes them most resistant to melting (they have a melting point of about 95 or 96 degrees F and most resistant to physical distortion (this is the reason the chocolate snaps rather than bends and doesn't set when cooled)."  Really. 

Getting it to form into the beta V structure is all about managing the heat, and this is the only time that Stella Parks has let me down. She is old-school, and uses a technique called seeding. Seeding it too loosey-goosey (prone to failure) for me so I used the sous-vide technique detailed in this article by  J. Kenji López-Alt. He wrote The Food Lab: Better Home Cooking Through Science (which Dave, of course, has). He is an excellent, knowledgable, engaging writer, and makes the science-y stuff accessible to, well, everyone. In addition to being able to exactly control the temperature changes with the sous vide, another benefit of this method is that there is absolutely no mess and no waste. To do it you vacuum-seal the chocolate, pop it into a sous vide bath at 115 degrees F, after a few minutes (five or so) when it is all melted, drop the temperature to 81 degrees. To drop the temp, you add ice to the sous vide. When it gets down to 80 degrees, set the sous-vide for 90 degrees. As the temperature rises, take the bag(s) of chocolate out every minute oor so and really mash them around to keep the chocolate mixing, and the crystals forming appropriately and evenly. You can then hold the chocolate at 90 degrees until you are ready to use it.

To use it, snip a corner of the vacuum bag like a pastry bag, and drizzle the melted chocolate. When you are done, you just reseal the bag with the vacuum sealer, and the left-over chocolate keeps indefinitely for future melting, re-tempering, and drizzling!

The chocolates I used are:

• Guittard 63% Extra Dark Chocolate Baking Chips
• Guittard Akoma Extra Semisweet Organic 55% Dark Chocolate Baking Chips
• Ghirardelli 72% Cacao Dark Chocolate Premium Baking Chips
• Lily's Dark Chocolate Baking Chips 55% cocoa (sweetened with Stevia)

Labeling

Vacuum-sealed bags of chocolate, labeled

When baking a bunch of different things which end up looking pretty much the same it is wise to label every stage of every batch. To this end, I used a black Sharpie to write the type of biscotti in each batch on the parchment paper. I also numbered the bags of chocolate chips 1-4 and put the corresponding numbers on the vacuum bags after I sealed them. Finally, I have pretty little cellophane bags that I Sharpied on the bottom with the code for the biscotti and the chocolate. Well, that was my INTENT anyway! the reality was pretty much like that, and even where I missed labeling I can tell which is which for the biscotti and most of the chocolate.

Results - biscotti

Pistachio is a wonderful flavor, but just pistachio with no spice counterpoint is not as orally exciting as almond and anise. It made an adequate biscotti, not a brilliant one. Next time I need to find a spice for it...

Almond flour doers not make biscotti. What it makes is closer to a coarse shortbread. It is also MUCH harder to handle as almond flour does not have the structural integrity of wheat flour (i.e., gliuten) so the pieces were prone to crumbling and breaking as they were cut and flipped for baking. The almond flour is richer and sweeter than wheat flour, and chock full of oil--something missing from regular wheat-flour biscotti. The oil also makes it a bit softer and not as dry. I would guess it is also less shelf-stable thanks to the oil. If I want biscotti, I prefer the wheat version. However, if I were gluten-sensitive or on keto, the almond-flour version (made with Stella Park's recipe substituting almond flour for all-purpose flour 1:1 and dusting the rolling surface with almond flour too) is not bad.  

As for sweeteners, I had high hopes for monk fruit as it does not raise your glycemic level, has anti-inflammatory properties, is all natural, and has no calories. It is also 200 times sweeter than sugar. In spite of the disparity in sweetness, different brands of monkfruit sweetener recommend different ratios for substitution for sugar. I used HEB's brand which recommends 1:1, and it was both too sweet and had a weird sweetener flavor that I don't really like. Again, if I couldn't have sugar, the monkfruit version was good enough. It just wasn't great.

On the other hand, the biscotti made with the allulose sugar substitute (Swerve) had a less noticeable taste and adequate sweetness. It is also used 1:1 for sugar. Allulose is another naturally occurring sugar that is 70% as sweet as sugar, does not raise blood sugar, does not cause tooth decay, and is almost calorie free. The biggest downsides to allulose are the price (it is WAY expensive) and that excessive consumption can cause gassiness and bloating. 

I might experiment a little more, but my inclination now is to use allullose whenever I can't use sugar.

Results - chocolate

Wow is this turning into a long post! 

Okay, all chocolate does not melt the same. There seems to be a correlation between flow of the chocolate and the percentage of cocoa. (Interesting note: For something to be called chocolate in the US, it must contain 100% cocoa butter and not any less expensive fat like coconut or palm oil). The Ghirardelli was runny like chocolate syrup and slightly melted into the sides of the biscotti. The Lily's dark and the Guittard dark (both at 55%) were very stiff and kept their shape, just resting on surface of the biscotti slices. The Guittard Akoma (63% and the first one I used) was almost as stiff as the 55% ones. Next time I use them, I think I will up the temperature a bit for the lower % cocoa chocolates to see if they will flow better.

For taste and appearance, all were delicious and glossy with a good snap to them.

Conclusion

I have experimented enough with keto biscotti. I am going to stick with all-purpose flour and sugar, and make keto batches upon request for friends. My next forays will be into spice-nut combinations: 

• pecan/brown sugar, molasses, cinnamon
• walnut/nutmeg, clove
• pistachio/chai spice
• cashews/pumpkin pie spice (cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice, cloves)

As for the chocolate, as easy as it is, I'll do it--but only for half the batch: There is nothing like the pure flavor of the biscotti dipped in coffee to make my morning perfect!

Inadvertent Bead Soup

Sippin a late afternoon diet coke from Mickie D's, and listening to "Find the Cost of Freedom" by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. I am such a Boomer! In the time it took me to write that sentence, the music slid into "The Times They Are A-Changin'" covered by Simon and Garfunkle. Spotify never lets me down. (Although the next song in the Daily Mix is "Love the One You're With" by Crosby, Stills & Nash, and I don't think Dave would approve of me following that sentiment...)

Yesterday was the first just relax, go with the flow, and be creative day I've had since I retired. I did NOTHING on any list, nor did I meditate, yoga, blog, or walk the dog. Instead I: 

• had a facial
• dropped by the Austin Bead Gallery (ABG) for a refresher lesson on Peyote wrapping (I am beading a deer antler)
• started designing labels for the biscotti I want to package and give to friends
• went to the retirement-from-data.world party at Jewboy Subs thrown by my wonderful spouse
• drank an entire bottle of lovely Roederer collection 242 champagne
• went to bed at 8:45 like a really old person

So, bead soup. Where does that come from? I learned about bead soup from Laura at ABG. It refers to the practice of taking a bunch of seed beads and other small to medium beads (usually odds and ends leftover from projects in limited quantities), and mixing them all together in a baggie. This soup is then the material used for any abstract bead project--like the antler I am working on. I have a bead soup that I carefully made for my antler, and yesterday as I was looking for a few more beads to add to it, I dropped a whole tray of little boxes of beads on the floor of my studio. Some of them opened, some of them did not. Those that opened spewed little beads EVERYWHERE. My first thought when they hit the floor was "CRAP that's going to be a mess to sort!" But when I swept them all together to pick up, I saw that they made a really nice bead soup (shown above). As you might guess, I choose to see the inadvertent bead soup as a serendipitous metaphor for my life right now. It's kind of like, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade--only with beads!

CRASH! Something just hit the floor behind me. I looked over at a swinging strand of carabiners and thought, "Huh, how did whatever that was happen?" Then I saw both the 19-lb cat slink under the table and the newly fallen container of red #15 Miyuki delicas spilled open on the floor. After yelling at the cat, banishing him from the studio, and sweeping up the wee beads, I have decided to just take the pile as a new addition to my bead soup of life.

Let the Day Begin

Coffee is long since drunk, "Let the Day Begin" by The Call on Spotify. Another day, another (non-) workweek begins. Yesterday was a holiday so I don't count it. Today Dave is back to work, and in wall-to-wall meetings. I chortle happily and head off to the fiber studio/office/she-cave to get on with MY day. Outside the wall of windows in front of me the sun is shining and the air is still. In the pause between songs, I hear the birds chirping, and my heart cannot help but to lift, to soar. No matter what the future brings, this moment is perfect. My mind races with all the possibilities for the day. A few of the most attractive ones are:

• make biscotti
• order sausage casings and peruse recipes for exotic sausage
• reorganize the freezer so types and cuts of meat can be better organized (and three-year-old riced cauliflower can be humanely disposed of)
• piece Patrick's quilt
• fill frit orders from my Etsy shop
• chat with distant friends
• do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight!

Of course, even in the perfect life, there are the petty annoyances like helping the child cancel the gym membership she forgot to take care of before heading off to school (I have to do it in person), and pay bills. But in the minor scheme of life (much less the grand scheme), these things are so tiny that they won't even make me twitch. 

I may even make croissants! Never before have I had the time to really focus on making them, and now I want to master them. To help me out, a present from Dave arrived yesterday--a 16" x 20" marble slab for rolling pastry--and it's already in the freezer! Also yesterday, I mastered pie crust. Seriously! I think I posted this once before, but it bears repeating now: In seventh grade we all had to give presentations showing how to do something. I made a pie crust. For all of my life up until now I used my grandmother's recipe (oil--not butter or lard--and ice water) and method (rolling it out between sheets of waxed paper).  While others moaned and lamented the difficulty of pie crust, I smugly basked in my superiority. The crust was good in a lean way (my grandmother had MS and controlled it by strictly limiting animal fat), but when I shared it with Dave early in our marriage, he was not impressed. And years (decades) passed.

Then Dave introduced me (literarily, not literally) to Stella Parks and her book BraveTart: Iconic American Desserts, and my perception of pie crust changed forever. Her piecrust recipe--which uses butter, a laminating technique similar to the one used for croissants, and abundant flour--is a game changer. The first couple of times I made it it was good. Or at least, it was okay. It wasn't stellar (get it? Stellar? I crack myself up), and I attribute that to two things: 1) I didn't follow the recipe exactly (right down to the size of the butter cubes), and 2) I didn't give all of my attention and focus to the texture of the dough--both in terms of what I wanted it to be and what it was. Pastry is precise. You don't throw things in, and taste, and modify, and expect to create something perfect every time. 

Sunday I made two crusts (I meant to make one, but I accidentally doubled the water needed so I made two), and I was precise (in spite of the water snafu). I kept the butter big. I didn't overwork or soften it in the mixing, and I folded the crust just so before chilling it and rolling it out. Dave made her Frankie's coconut creme pie recipe (also from BraveTart) and a bacon and cheese quiche with them yesterday. The remains of the pie are shown above. No, we didn't eat it all! We gave half to Zaga and Dan. I haven't tried the quiche yet, but will have it for lunch today. The crust was no kidding the best I have ever had anywhere. Crispy, layered, buttery, salty, a hint sweet, light, flaky... you get the idea.

All this talk of food has made me hungry. Good thing I start every morning with a 30 minute walk!