Turnabout

Posted on by
Reply

Just yesterday I was complaining about the cold. This morning I am writing this post out on my front deck! The thermometer reads 42 degrees, but the sun is shining and I am well protected from the wind. We learned early on in the building process that the deck was perfectly positioned for morning coffee, lunch or just reading. We’d like to say we planned it that way, but we didn’t have that much foresight. The deck faces south, which also happens to be the only side of the house that we could not leave wooded in the building process. All that big equipment needed access to the site somewhere. But once we discovered the windfall in sunshine that resulted, we loved it. It’s all the better in the seasons when the leaves are down and the sun lingers longer on the deck. We have planted new trees on that side of the house, and added to them each year so far, but this time we are planning the result – they are strategically placed so as not to shade the deck, even when fully grown.  The addition of Adirondack chairs was a requirement for me.  Nothing denotes relaxation like an Adirondack chair.  And being Polywood, they can be out year-round.  Another necessity.

I can hear Amity Creek flowing, a bit of wind blowing, small animals scurrying in our woods and birds twittering. Can winter really be right around the corner?

Getting Acclimated

Posted on by
1

For all my bravado about eagerly awaiting the start of the cross-country ski season, I have to admit that the season’s first cold temperatures are getting to me.  Stepping outside to go running the other morning when the temperature read 22 degrees was a chilly reminder of what is to come.  It didn’t help that the sky had that dreary winter gray look, and the winds whipped me in the face for the first half of my run.  There’s no getting around it – it felt cold.  I zipped my jacket up under my chin and forged ahead.  My fingers eased themselves out of their individual compartments to snuggle together in the palms of my gloves.  As always, once I got going my body generated enough heat to warm up and eventually I even enjoyed the “freshness” of the air on my face.  It’s getting rolling that’s tough.

Note to self: Hiking does not generate nearly as much warmth as other more intense forms of outdoor exercise.  I had the right idea, dressing in layers, just not enough of them.  It was my hands that suffered the most.  I’m convinced that I frostbit them more than once over the years, leaving them more susceptible to the cold.  Next hike, it’s heavy mittens for me.  It took a cup of hot tea, cradled in my hands to rewarm me both inside and out.  But I still enjoyed the hike.

I’m glad that I took advantage of the nice days last week to get in a long bike ride.  I was just 21 miles shy of 4,000 miles for the year and couldn’t bear the thought of missing that milestone.  I’m now safely 9 miles over.  Anything more is just gravy.  When I took up long distance cycling as a newbie back in March, I had no idea I’d cover so many miles.  Those that know me are probably not surprised, however.  And if the temperatures moderate and the sun peaks out, I’ll probably sneak in another ride or two.

Hopefully I’ll acclimate and get used to winter’s chill by the time it comes in earnest.  Even so, I know I will still have to psyche myself up to head out into the cold.  And I know I’ll return feeling glad that I did.

 

Tick Tock – A very special clock

Posted on by
3

Grandfather has moved in with us.  The grandfather clock, that is.  I grew up with this clock, its slow audible tick and faithful dinging on the hour.  It inhabited the space in our front hallway and its tone was easily distinguishable from the other chiming clocks in the house – and we had a few.  Friends sleeping over were constantly awoken by the myriad bells going off on the quarter, half and full hour while family members easily slept through them all.

Sunday was the day for winding clocks.  Dad would make his rounds, getting out the unique key for each clock and methodically turning it until it was fully wound.  The grandfather clock kept impeccable time until his death.  After that, the clock just wasn’t the same.  They say a clock doesn’t run the same when someone else winds it.  This one was no exception.  No one else had Dad’s touch.

Even as a youngster, I was aware that this clock had a special history.  There were vague stories about its original lead weights being melted down for bullets during the Revolutionary War.  I was never sure if it was fact or just a good story.  But it was indeed born out by a history of the clock, written by my great uncle, and recently unearthed by a distant cousin.  He also related how the “new” canister weights, filled with sand and scrap iron were unable to travel a long enough distance to run the clock for a full 7 days.  So Uncle Henry cut holes in the base of the clock to allow them to travel right down to the floor.  I’m sure that the Antiques Roadshow folks would shudder at his ingenuity, but he reports that he achieved his desired result and the clock then ran for a full week.

The clock was believed to have been purchased by Uncle Henry’s mother around 1872, and therefore was not considered a family heirloom.  But by this time I can’t help but consider it anything else.  It’s simple lines and lack of ornateness add to its appeal and are a testament to its ancient lineage.

On its travels from Mom’s house to mine, I had a local clockmaker take out the works and get the clock running again.  He did a fine job, and once more it is ticking, chiming on the hour and keeping good time.  It stands out as the only antique in a very modern house, but I rather like it that way.  And time will tell if it adapts to my own winding technique.

It’s a Shoe-In

Posted on by
Reply

The UPS guy just deposited the package on our doorstep – my new running shoes are here!  And with that, I leave behind my conservative self and enter the age of brilliance.  Not brain power, footwear.  I don’t know when or where this trend started.  I admit to running my old shoes well past the recommended number of miles, erstwhile ignorant of new offerings on the market.  I did see the occasional runner in blinding foot colors, but passed it off as weird.  Then my daughter replaced her running shoes and found that ordinary color-trimmed white was no longer an option, and came home with deep purple.  She admitted to feeling a big funny when her feet came into view and shocked her with the color.  But she compensated by coordinating with a purple top.

Next my son, Erik, updated his footwear.  “Come see my new running shoes, Mom” he said.  I was unprepared for his unveiling – he bought those goofy looking rubbery foot booties (my terminology), complete with individual toes.  In his terms, they look a bit like skeleton feet, and was disappointed they didn’t have the more colorful version.  But he swears by them, particularly for trail running.  No matter, I don’t do trail running.

When I finally broke down and anted up the price for my own new shoes, I admit that my favorite model still came in white with aqua trim.  It would have been the easy way out.  But something about those colors enticed me.  Why not?  Shocking pink with black trim.  It’s so not me.  Or is it?  Too late to back out now.  I hope they don’t clash too much with my other running gear.

Playing Favorites

Posted on by
1

We have always had a favorite restaurant. A place where we were regulars, could go on a whim, and know we’d be well taken care of and have a good experience. It’s not something we set out to find, it just happened. Over time, we discovered that we consistently chose that particular restaurant when we wanted to relax, spend some time together and have a meal out. In fact, as I look back, we also fell into predictable patterns when it came to ordering as well – we each had our favorites that we ordered consistently.

Our first home was near Trenton, New Jersey. We commuted to work together, and at our exit on the way home was a place called the Yardville Hotel. It was in Yardville, but it hadn’t been a hotel for years. But it was a comfortable, small restaurant that served good Italian food. My favorite was the meatball sub sandwich and I could count on Rich to order a pizza. Including our side salads and requisite half liter of wine, our bill was under $20 including tip. Rich even went there the night after our first baby was born, and baby Karen made her debut just ten days later. She spent many a dinner hour there in her stroller snoozing by our table.

During our child rearing years in the Twin Cities, Marcello’s Pizza became our regular haunt. We all loved the pizza and it was our favorite Friday night place. Suckers for the kids, and Dad the Monster chasing the kids down the deserted hallway of the mall after dinner were part of the ritual.

Since then, D’Amico and Sons has been our hang-out. We know the staff well, enjoy being able to eat outside in the summer months, and like the ambiance. We’re comfortable there and have mulled over issues as well as celebrated good news there. It has a varied menu, although once again we usually stick to our favorites – pepperoni pizza for Rich and the basic Neapolitan for me. Side salads and wine are still requirements, but the bill is higher these days.

Now that we’ve moved to Duluth, we are in need of a new regular spot. There are many good restaurants that we like, but so far none fits the bill for an old standby. Perhaps we’re trying too hard. We’ve gone out several times thinking “this is going to be it” but always leave still searching. We should know better. A favorite isn’t selected, it happens. Until then, we’ll enjoy sampling the local offerings.

Halloween Costumes Revisited

Posted on by
Reply

When we moved out of our family home of 26 years, we had a lot of paraphernalia to sort through and toss.  My voluminous collection of sewing patterns definitely needed pruning.  I had a good laugh at some of the styles I knew I would never revisit.  But some patterns are timeless.  Costumes included.

With Halloween approaching, and my daughter Karen’s desire to dress her kids as Winnie the Pooh and Piglet, I was eager to help.  For Pooh, I was relieved to find that I had indeed saved the costume pattern that I used years ago to fashion a bunny costume for Karen.  What better place to start for Pooh’s costume?  She was three at the time, and her son is nearly two and a half.  It was great fun to pull it out and recreate the suit for a second generation.  With different fabric the bunny became Pooh bear.  And the price on that pattern?  Just $1.75. They don’t make them like that any more!

Piglet was a joint effort.  Karen sought out the pink leggings and shirt, while I adapted a red onesie for Piglet’s body.  All that we lacked was the head and ears.  In step the internet.  With a quick search I was able to find a free downloadable pattern for an adorable cap.  Unfortunately, when finished it turned out to be too small.  No problem, using SnagIt (one of my favorite software tools), I was able to save the pattern as an image, expand it and reprint the larger size.  The second attempt was a perfect fit!  Ears for both Pooh and Piglet were one part sewing experience and two parts imagination.

We had great fun trailing Pooh and Piglet around their neighborhood on Halloween.  No tricks – just seeing them in their costumes was a treat.

Oh, sew much fun!

Posted on by
Reply

I love to sew.  It’s so rewarding to create clothing or household items from scratch.  I have my mom to thank for teaching me her extensive skills, and my faithful Elna sewing machine that was my college graduation present and has served me well ever since.  When the kids were little, I added a serger and went to town creating sweatsuits, t-shirts, pajamas and Zubaz (remember those?) for just pennies.  As work became more demanding and our income rose, my sewing took a holiday while I focused on family time.  But retirement has given me the opportunity to resume, and grandchildren are the perfect excuse to dust off those sewing machines.

My first foray into this renewed sewing venture was pajamas.  Each year for Christmas I would make matching pajamas for our three children.  You’d be surprised at how old they were by the time that tradition was set aside!  This time I started with slipper-jammies.  You know, the soft fluffy kind that have feet and zip

up from one ankle to the neck.  And I’ve  now doubled the ante – one set with Christmas designs to wear leading up to Christmas (and beyond since their mom is as practical as I am) and another in a winter motif to find under the tree.  We’ll see if that keeps up as the number of grandchildren grows…

Next I need to fire up the serger again.  I’m sure I will need to re-educate myself on how to thread it and the intricacies of how to do the different stitches.  I have vivid memories of how tricky it is to get all four spools threaded properly and get good stitches going.  I’ll need patience, I know.  I was amazed, though, at the dearth of knit fabrics and ribbing available in the stores now.  Did women give up their sergers?  I used to have volumes of bolts to choose from, with all sorts of patterns and colors.  Whatever happened to sweatshirt material, or interlock?

Sewing in general seems on the downswing.  I will admit with some regret that I did not foster my daughter’s sewing skills to the same degree.  Fabric stores have closed by the dozens, particularly those that were dedicated to sewing alone.  How well I remember going down to Minneapolis from Duluth just to shop at Amluxen’s downtown.  They had at least two floors full of fabrics, and I always saved my money to buy my favorite fabric there – Pendleton wool.  There was no finer wool or more beautiful plaids.  But then again, we dressed differently in those days, and had more use for those formal fabrics.

I’ve never been big on following trends, so I’ll hang in there and keep sewing as long as I can find fabric.  And it’s time to get going on those PJs that go under the tree.

Morning Muffins

Posted on by
4

I was tired of looking at the two boxes of Raisin Bran that were languishing on the shelf.  I bought them for my son, but he does not appear to be as fond of the cereal as he claimed.  So I dug out an old recipe for refrigerator muffins.  I got it from a co-worker in my very first real job, and that was more than a few years ago.  But I remembered it as being a good one.  The beauty is that it uses a whole box of Raisin Bran cereal and a full quart of buttermilk.  So no leftovers of odd ingredients.  And the batter lasts six weeks in the refrigerator.

I whipped up the recipe, baked a few muffins and stashed the remainder of the batter in the fridge.  Those first muffins were not what I remembered – the bran flakes had not had time to fully soak into the batter and I could discern individual flakes in a white batter.  The next set I baked a few days later, however, were perfect.  Dark brown inside with a hearty flavor.  Good lesson – they improve with time.  The best part was being able to pop a few into the oven early in the morning and Voila! fresh warm muffins.  It worked especially well when we had overnight company.  I could spoil her with home made muffins right out of the oven without the distraction of mixing them up while she was there.  And for several weeks afterwards, I had muffins at will.  I even got that same son to bake up a batch for himself to take to work in his lunches.  Turns out he likes the cereal better in muffins.

If one refrigerator muffin recipe is good, there must be more, right?  Sure enough, a search on the internet turned up numerous variations.  The one that caught my eye was for pumpkin muffins, of course.  It is still a bran muffin, which in my opinion is a good thing – they’re my favorite.  But the addition of pumpkin and fall spices like cinnamon, cloves and allspice make for a tasty muffin.  This one makes a smaller batch, and only lasts two weeks in the refrigerator.  And now I have leftover canned pumpkin and buttermilk.  Maybe that calls for a second batch.  This recipe is from Pillsbury.

Here are versions of the recipes you can print or save:

Raisin Bran Muffins and Refrigerator Pumpkin Bran Muffins

Happy muffin mornings!

Fickle Fall Weather Workouts

Posted on by
Reply

It’s in-between season.  I feel like my workouts are a patchwork of activities.  Some days it still warms up enough to go for a long bike ride.  Given the right layers, I can stretch “warm enough” quite a ways.  The difficult part is having the patience to wait until later in the day when the sun has done its work. I’m within 100 miles of hitting 4,000 miles of cycling for the year, and I’m determined to get there.  Not bad for my first year of cycling.

Running is always a good staple.  I’m used to running year round.  I’m putting more miles on my running shoes these days, trying to get back that old endurance back.  I hate to admit it, but these days I consider I’ve had a good run when I maintain 9 minute miles.  Sad when I remember what I used to do, but I remind myself to accept aging gracefully.

If it’s really ugly, I hit the pool.  I have resumed my Y membership after putting it on hold for the summer, hoping to rebuild some upper body strength.  Those first few sessions in the pool were killers – why did I think it was okay to stop swimming for 6 months?  The payoff is in the locker room, though.  My faithful early morning buddies are there, and it’s great to see them again.  My friend Louise is my inspiration – 20 years older than me, and she works out every single day.

And what’s all this for?  Why cross-country ski season, of course!  Our registrations went in for the big races long ago – City of Lakes, Mora and the Birkie beckon, snow willing.  February is not all that far away, and I’m anxious to get out on my skis.  Not much I can do about it until the snow falls, though.  I’m not about to break my neck attempting roller skis.

We have vacation time coming up Thanksgiving week.  If we hear of snow within driving distance, it’s likely we’ll go find it.  If not, we’re talking about heading a bit further south and substituting a cycling trip.  After all, we can be as fickle as the weather.