Recipe of the Week: Stuffed Pepper Soup

January is national soup month in the U.S., which makes sense.  Most of us are faced with cold and/or wet and/or snowy weather this time of year, so a bowl of hot and hearty soup warms us from the inside out.  

Like last year, I've focused on soup recipes each Wednesday in January.  (You can find lots of soup recipes in my Recipe Box here.)  Today's recipe is a newer one I recently found on Pinterest.  I made it for our family last week, then made it again for the Bunco girls on Monday night. It was one of those recipes that was on the right track, but needed some modifying; here's my second rendition which was well received:

Stuffed Pepper Soup

Ingredients:
1 pound ground beef
1 onion, diced
2 green peppers, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, or 2 teaspoons minced garlic
1 jar mushroom and pepper spaghetti sauce
1 can petite diced tomatoes
3-4 cups chicken broth
1 cup cooked rice (1/2 cup uncooked)

Directions:
In large stock pot, brown beef.  Drain and remove from pan. Add a tablespoon of olive oil and saute onion and peppers until soft. Add back the beef and all other ingredients except the rice.  Simmer for an hour or longer.  Just before serving, stir cooked rice through.  Makes 6 servings.

The original recipe called for two cans of diced tomatoes and tomato sauce; not spaghetti sauce.  And a LOT more rice. It also had a very short - 35 minute - cooking time.  When we tried it, we found the rice made it very thick; more like a stew. And the flavor of the peppers and tomatoes didn't really meld together, but remained raw and distinct. I gently modified the ingredients and quantities, and adjusted the cooking time. That is key to most soups:  unless you're dealing with ingredients that will toughen or fall apart if cooked too long, be sure to give your soup some time for the flavors to release and come together.

Happy cooking!

A dilettante's guide to garden planning

Roses are red, violets are blue.  I love gardening, do you?

As much as I love actually gardening, I love garden planning almost as much. It is a gardener's winter therapy.  The new plant and seed catalogs are piling up on my desk, full of picture-perfect flowers and bright promises of warmer months ahead.  (Okay, so it's really just daydreaming and doodling, but it's with a purpose.)

I especially love planning when I have a blank slate to work with, like I do now.  First up on my to-do list is to create a potager-style vegetable garden with raised beds.

And my heart's desire:  a long sweeping border full of flowers for cutting.

It would be easy to dive into a planting frenzy - so many plants provide gorgeous bouquets.

But instead of buying and planting willy-nilly, I have a method for designing these beds that will look thoughtfully landscaped, but not formal or boring, offering an evolving sequence of blooms from spring to fall.    It's cottage gardening with some self-control.  If you follow this method, you'll never wind up with a tall plant squatting in front of a delicate, diminutive one, or loud heavy orange blooms squeezing up against a froth of lacy pale pink petals.  Unless you want to, of course.

Step 1:  Determine the size of your bed (it can have curves, but this scheme works best with oblong or rectangle beds. Planting schemes can be adapted for island beds in round, kidney or square shapes - we'll talk about those in a future post.)

Step 2: Plot the bed on a rough grid of 12-inch or 18-inch squares (curves and bends are easily accommodated:  you can drop a plant out, squish it in closer, or ease it to the left or right instead of being perfectly gridlocked.)  Big grids or little grids?  Personally, I plan - and plant - on a 12-15 inch grid for a fuller look.  But I have been known to regret it when a plant sprawls larger than I anticipated. Huge plants and shrubs can be given a double or quadruple spot on the grid.

The top/back row is plotted (left-right): Tall/Early, Tall/Mid, Tall/Late, Tall/Early, Tall/Mid, Tall/Late...repeating as many times as needed.

The middle row is plotted as Medium/Late, Medium/Early, Medium/Mid, Medium/Late, Medium/Early, Medium/Mid....

And the front/bottom row is plotted as Short/Mid, Short/Late, Short/Early, Short/Mid, Short/Late, Short/Early...

Step 3: Choose your plants.  Depending on the size of your space and your sensibilities, you can choose one, two or three different plants for each height and bloom season.  (Fewer choices will give you more repetition and a more formal, polished look. Choosing more varieties will give you a fuller, freer look. However, if you go with more than three different plants for each height and bloom period, try to make sure each plant is included at least 3 times and choose plants that are similar in color and/or texture to provide visual continuity.)

Below is what my planting scheme looks like for each season (each block of color represents a specific plant's bloom color; the green blocks are the foliage on adjacent plants when they are not in bloom at that time.) Each of these plans represents an area 3 feet by 12 feet - I'll just keep repeating it down the fence row, stretching approximately 16 feet on each side of a wide gate.  I'm using two plants per height and bloom season; 18 different plants will be repeated every 6 feet.

See how the flower colors start demure and pastel in spring and become more vibrant in summer and blazing hot colors in the fall?  It's almost impossible to find screaming orange blooms in early spring (except tulips), or muted pastels in the fall, and I think it's easier and more natural looking for your colors to to work with Mother Nature than trying to fight her.

E=early/spring flowers

M=mid/summer flowers

L=late/fall flowers

By staggering your plants by their peak bloom times, you don't wind up with a bunch of competing (or clashing) blooms lined up in front of one another.  Instead, each season builds to a peak, then  gradually gives way to the next. By designating each plant as tall (I classify anything over 4 feet as tall), medium (2-3 feet) and short (under 2 feet), you ensure that the tall ones are always in the back.

What about the advice of planting your perennials in groups of 3s or 5s and creating big swaths of color for impact?  The ugly truth is those swaths tend to turn into huge voids when the bloom season ends. By repeating the plants every second or third spot, you get rhythm and continuity without "busy-ness"  and the entire bed looks fresh and full of blooms from spring to frost.

If you like this idea, you're welcome to borrow it and apply  your plants to it; please send pictures and bragging tales of your success stories!

If you are interested in having a planting scheme and nursery shopping list created for you, please contact me.  I create custom plans based on your climate, sun and shade environment as well as your personal plant preferences, for a small fee. The plans include a planting chart and specific plant recommendations, plus mail order sources for varieties that may not be available in your area.

It's way too soon to get planting, but now is the time to get planning, especially if you are ordering any plants for spring delivery.

Happy gardening,
.

What goes up, must come down

Just like the old Blood Sweat & Tears song and Newton's law of gravity, the Christmas decorations that go up must eventually come down.

When do you take yours down?  I have friends who have them down in the twinkling of an eye, pretty much as soon as Christmas dinner is finished. 

As for me, I let mine linger a bit.  We start our decorating later than most, and I'm just not ready to put it all away on December 26.  But I do make sure it's down shortly after we've ushered in the new year.

Every year for several years, I have vowed to go through all the Christmas bins and straighten them out.  This year, I made good on that promise.  No excuses - the walk-in attic is adjacent to our bonus room, so I had the perfect staging area to spread out all my tubs and really organize them.  I also did a little "Santa's Workshop" repair on a few items that needed re-gluing.

Today marks the 12th day of Christmas (see note), and I'm happy to say my decorations are down and tucked away, and I've even made a little headway on decorating the dining room for the winter months.  Den and foyer are next.

There were two distinct approaches I could take to stowing away my Christmas decorations:

1. Room-by-room (kitchen, dining room, UT stuff for the bonus room....)
2. Like-goes-with-like (garlands, ornaments, lights, nutcrackers, Christmas village...)

I chose...both.

For example, the kitchen tub contains everything I need to set up my kitchen for Christmas:  tree decorations, Christmas mugs and linens, even my party paper goods (of which I have enough to last the next 30 years.  Okay, maybe just the next two or three, but it seems like a lot.)  Next to it is the box with next year's gift mugs for my 3rd graders.  I picked them up on clearance, and it's one less thing to worry about.

Yes, the caroler's book is upside down

On the other hand, my nutcracker collection stays together (albeit in one large tub and two wine boxes - they are the perfect size for storing them.)  I store them as a group even though some go to the sunroom, some to the kitchen, some to the den and some to the foyer.  I always shuffle them up, so each year I can pull them out and decide who-goes-where.  Ditto for the garlands and wreaths.  But the light strands and ornaments are separated in tubs for specific trees: dining room, big tree, UT tree.

I also tucked in some reminders for next year to make decorating easier - you know, those things you tell yourself, "next year, I'll do it this way instead" and next year, you remember it too late?  Yeah, me too.  Maybe my notes will help next year - we'll see.)

Of the stuff I didn't use this year, I designated one tub for Santa Claus decorations, and another for snowmen and the cream/gold ornaments. When I get the urge to switch from silver to gold, or do a Santa or snowman theme, I can "shop" from my own inventory first.

After everything was in tubs and I had tossed all the irreparable, melted, discolored or otherwise unusable stuff, there remained two large bags of "haven't-used-in-forever" (or maybe never) stuff.  I'll take pity on the Goodwill folks who are dealing with the year-end glut, and keep them until early next fall to drop off. They're set aside in one corner, visibly marked for their final destination.

The only remaining to-do is to get some shelving up in the attic so when I need the tub on the bottom of the stack (isn't that always the one you need?) I don't have to offload all the other tubs to fetch it. But that's a task that can wait for a warm Saturday so we don't get frostbite in the process.

Even though Christmas is officially over and the decorations are down, I think I'm going to be vacuuming up glitter and pine needles for a very long time....

Happy cleaning,



P.S.   A big thank-you to Mr. Kurek for setting me straight on how to count the twelve days of Christmas. I'm just glad I was a day ahead, instead of a day behind!

Recipe of the Week: Homemade Hot Cocoa Mix

When our children were young, winter meant hot cocoa - and lots of it.  But small children tend to leave half the mug undrank (undrunk?)  and it pained me to waste so much.  When I considered the cost of each individual pouch of mix, I felt like I was pouring good money down the drain along with the cold, undrinkable cocoa. The bulk canisters of pre-made mix weren't any more cost-effective (on a price-per-serving basis, they were even more expensive than the pouches most of the time.)

But a friend of mine shared with me her recipe for homemade hot cocoa mix.  Score!  It's easy to mix up and very inexpensive if you have a lot of hot cocoa lovers to satisfy.   Over the years, I tweaked her recipe a little her and there, most notably adding the chocolate pudding mix.  Here's my current version, which is still subject to change - feel free to modify to suit your own preferences for taste and texture.

Nancy's Hot Cocoa Mix (with a few tweaks)

Ingredients:
8 cups powdered milk
1/2 cup powdered chocolate drink mix (Nestle is always a favorite but any brand will work)
1 4-ounce box instant chocolate pudding (optional but recommended for thicker texture)
1/3 cup powdered non-dairy creamer (you can use cinnamon, peppermint or other flavored creamer if you prefer)
1/3 cup powdered sugar

Directions:
Sift or mix together in a large bowl or canister - stir well until there are no streaks of brown or white.  (A pasta stirrer makes a good utensil to blend the dry ingredients).

Store in tightly sealed canister or other container.  Use 1/3 cup mix to 8 ounces boiling hot water.  Stir and serve with or without marshmallows (homemade mallows  make it extra yummy!) or whipped topping.  Makes approximately 30 servings.

Happy mixing!

 

My mantel, my mantle

In each home we have owned, I have wanted (and gotten) a fireplace with a mantel. Last home had two fireplaces and three mantels (one fireplace was two-sided.) I love (REALLY love) having a fireplace. And - of course - a mantel. But decorating said mantel doesn't come naturally to yours truly. And this home's fireplace has the added complexity of having a massive brick wall above the mantel. Everything seems to recede into the earth-tone brick.

I know, I know..what a problem to have, right?  But all whining aside, I've developed a real mental block when it comes to decorating this prominent feature of our living space, and each season seems to bring new and bigger challenges for me.  (I never decorate the mantel the same way twice.  Maybe if I found a style I really love - or even really like - I'd just fall back on it each year.  So far, nada.)

So the mantel has become a mantle.  You know, a yoke, a burden, a responsibility that I shoulder alone (because if I left it to the menfolk of this family, there'd be some random UT memorabilia thrown up there willy-nilly.  And that's just not happening.)

So let's back up to last spring, when I put together an homage to our South Carolina spring trip, with blown-up photos of starfish and sea stuff. I really liked that scheme, but:

1. There was a complete and utter DEARTH of tasteful or inspired mantel decoration between the holidays and spring. Oh my.
2. In retrospect, the scale was still a little small. Or maybe it's just me thinking I should somehow cover that vast expanse of brick with SOMETHING?

At any rate, spring and summer, the mantel stayed pretty much the same.  Then came fall and I did pump up the orange with some seasonal items.

And then...the Christmas mantel.  Three days of decorating resulted in this.   Pffft.  And now that has been down for several weeks....and there's a void once again.  I keep looking at blogs with mantel ideas, hoping to get inspired. Or find something I could shamelessly copy item-for-item. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and all that.)

A painting class scheduled for last week got canceled due to snow.  Alas, it was going to be a painting of a winter wonderland scene, which I had hoped would grace my mantel until it is time for another trip to South Carolina.  I decided it was high time to implement Plan B.  (Well, to be more precise, it was time to create and implement Plan B.  And now that you've heard all my excuses and rationalizing, here's this year's winter mantel.

I'm not sure it's worthy of much commentary or explanation, but in case you're interested, here's what I did:

I started out with a print of Monet's "Magpie," one of my favorite winter scenes, in a brushed silver frame.  In front of the print is a mix of old and new candle holders, with crushed oyster shells in the bases.










Hobby Lobby had some fantastic closeout deals on the black candlesticks (which I really wanted last Christmas, so a very early "Merry Christmas 2011" to me!) ;  their flowers were 50% off and I already had the vase sitting around collecting dust.  The mirror was borrowed from the dining room.

The center is another mix of old and new:  the bronze barnstar is new (but was half off!), while the vase, bird statue, candle and "Family" sign are from recycled from seasons and mantels past.  (Okay, some of the floral stems are new, too.)

So what do you think?  Will it carry us through these bleakest months weeks of the year?  Any suggestions or ideas?   I'm really hoping this mantel can be gently transitioned into a spring mantel in a couple of months.  I like the idea of gradually changing it over every few months instead of a total overhaul each season.  Especially since I seem to encounter a mental block when I'm faced with the prospect of a complete change-out.

And in case you're wondering, yes, we've thought about painting the brick or covering it with drywall and painting it the color of the walls, but our time in this house may be ending soon. If that happens, I'm not going to waste the time (and extreme energy) to tape and mud and sand and paint, especially dangling from a ladder, when the next residents may not appreciate or value my efforts.  Of course, if we decide to stay put, then that may be high on my list of honey-do's this spring.

Happy decorating!

It's beginning to smell a lot like brisket...

And yes, the title may be hummed to the tune of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas" - which it is that, too. In fact, if it were December, the white stuff on the ground would be a welcome novelty. As it is, it's just another cold, wintry day. Three days of snowfall. What can it mean? We've never had this much snow since we moved here in 2000. At least it's a good excuse to continue making comfort foods.

And so the crockpot is burbling away with a nice lean brisket, approaching tender perfection. A bowl of bread starter was puffing and bubbling along all day, basking in the radiant heat from the crockpot.

My family's favorite brisket recipe is called "Mrs. Ringle's Brisket" and was part of the Once-a-Month Cooking menu, where it was described as an overnight recipe, cooled and frozen in the morning. (Confession: I have no idea who Mrs. Ringle is.) I rarely prepare it overnight, as I've found the smell of food cooking wreaks havoc with my sleeping pattern: I tend to wake up and smell it in the wee hours, and then I can't go back to sleep. (It's not hunger, it just somehow offends my sensibilities - and olfactory senses - to smell food cooking all night.)

I braved the frigid temps long enough to dart into the greenhouse and find my 20-row seed starting trays. I think I have about 18 varieties of tomatoes, and another 4 or 5 of peppers, plus some eggplants. If my math is correct, I can parlay these into 24 six-packs, nicely filling two flats with 72 cells each. A manageable grouping of plants to keep indoors during the next 6-8 weeks, depending on weather. (Really must get the greenhouse fixed soon.)

In April I'll plant out 1 or 2 of each variety and offer the rest to family and friends. Of course, that assumes the seedlings are up and growing enough to survive a week of neglect at spring break. That week away has been known to throw a real wrench in my seed starting in past years. And can the seed trays stay safe from the threat of the paranoid nocturnal wanderings of Luci(fer), the Mainecoon feline? Only time will tell. Tomorrow, a bag of seed starting mix and a new grow light are on my must-get list.

Makin' Marsala Monday

We awoke this morning to more snow - a half inch or more covered the grass, and a sheen of ice lay on the roads. We slid across the parking lot at the YMCA before the crack of dawn...we're too old to be doing that sort of thing. We could fall and break something.

After the parking lot antics, I got in a 3 mile run, averaging somewhere around 10.5 minutes per. Not bad - just need to do it more frequently. Signed up DD for swim team again, and she got in about an hour in the pool on her own this afternoon. Spring break is just a few weeks away - South Carolina, here we come! Neither of us can do much about the pale skin that will be suddenly exposed to broad daylight, but who wants to be pale and flabby? A pretty good motivator to kick up the exercise regimen a notch or two.

Following Michael Chu's Cooking for Engineers' version of chicken marsala, I had to ad lib on the heavy cream (a little half and half, and a little butter), I served it up with some buttery/pesto-ey noodles, a fresh tossed Romaine salad and garlic bread. Not bad for a Monday night dinner.

Tomorrow is a stick-to-your-ribs family favorite: beef brisket in the crockpot all day. With some yummy au gratin potatoes on the side and probably some homemade bread, too. The weather forecast is shaping up to be another hearty dinner sort of day.

Since all the dinner leftovers wouldn't fit back in the fridge, I cleaned it out. And I discovered that indeed yogurt can go bad. And that you should always look at the date before you lick the lid. Mmmm.

The dreaded four-letter d-word

No, not that one. Another d-word. d-e-s-k. Also answers to "center of my universe," "command central," "arch nemesis," "the black hole," "Bermuda triangle," etc., etc. You get the idea. This relationship is beyond love/hate - it makes the "War of the Roses" (the movie, not the actual war) look like a tale of wedded bliss.

This desk is where I spend the majority of my waking hours, and yet I can't seem to keep any semblance of order, at least not for very long...a day or two at most, and then the detritus slowly builds: papers that should be filed or round-filed, clipped coupons, pens, stamps, paperclips, checkbook, junk mail, is that a bottle of contact lens solution over there? Yep. They all lay here, silently accusing me of sloth and disorganization.

Today is a new day, a time for a fresh start. Today I am cleaning it for real (not just tidying the stacks, or transplanting everything to the floor in my classic Scarlet O'Hara "I'll think about that tomorrow!" maneuver.) Really, truly clean. Filed, tossed, put away. If I'm not heard from in 24 hours, someone put out an APB - you'll know the desk finally swallowed me whole.

In other news, the Dutch oven has been broken in: she gently cradled a pork tenderloin smothered in onions, garlic and seasoning yesterday, at 325 for 2 hours. Yum. The sourdough starter is still going, but it was getting a little watery, so I drained off the hooch and thickened up the flour addition. It bubbles, but doesn't double in size.

Weather-wise, it seems we are deep in the icy frost pocket of winter's thick coat. The 10-day forecast is bleak - the best we can hope for is to edge toward the upper 40s towards the end of the month, but not before we have a few more brushes with some snow next week.

Update: Okay, so it's late afternoon and the desk is *almost* done. (Where have I heard that before?) And as a reward for digging to the bottom? I found a sale ad for new Fiestaware. Square Fiestaware. Be still my beating heart...

The heights and depths and breadths of...well, bread

I pride myself on being a pretty good baker. My sour cream banana bread always gets rave reviews, and my cookie repertoire is quite impressive. It doesn't stop there: muffins, scones, scratch cakes and brownies...all are within my power to whip up at a moment's notice.

But truth be told, my sweet rolls are hit-or-miss. Sometimes they're near-perfection, but sometimes not even close. My Parker House Rolls are usually decent, but could be better. And my regular loaf bread is...well, inconsistent at best, and really awful at times.

I've had great bread, baked by others. So I know what really great bread tastes, feels, and smells like. And now I'm on a quest to find out the secrets of making great bread. Consistently great bread.

If I get a Dutch oven for my birthday this week (and just in case my DH is reading this blog, please make that a 5- or 6-quart red one with molded handles and the self-basting lid, pretty please - doesn't have to be LeCreuset, but Lodge would be nice ;o), I will try my hand at this NYT No-Knead Bread recipe. Apparently I've been living in a cave for the past 3-plus years, while this one made the rounds (and loaves) of bread-making circles.

But I don't plan to stop there: sourdough starter starts today. Artisan breads-- from super-crusty to super-soft--here I come.

While we're still technically in the throes of winter, (as witnessed by this beautiful shot taken today by DD), I hope to experiment with all sorts of shapes, textures, and types, and techniques for bread-making. Guess my running shoes will also be getting some mileage, cuz that's just how I roll.

The mad dash to nowhere

This weekend was to be our youth group's annual ski trip weekend. Part or all of our family have attended this weekend for the past 8 years, which I think qualifies it as a bona fide family tradition.

As with most trips, I procrastinated on packing and other last-minute activities until the 11th hour. (I work better under the pressure of a looming deadline. Really.)

Now, most of the time, our local snowstorm predictions are nothing more than free advertising for the grocery stores, who get an influx of sales on bread and milk anytime the word "snow" is mentioned by a meteorologist. (Sometimes I really suspect there's a racket at work there...)

This time, the prognosticators were right on the money. We got hit, and hit hard. The system that laid down ice and sleet across Oklahoma and Arkansas yesterday marched into the midstate area. By mid-morning, snow began falling - beautiful, fluffy flakes. Within a few hours, it was flurrying furiously. A 5-mile trip home after DD's piano lesson took half an hour, much of it crawling on snow-covered surface streets. Note to city crews: deicer is no match for snow falling at a rate of an inch or two an hour. A for effort, though.

We struggled home (after making the mandatory side trip to the grocery store) and wondered if the trip would be called off. Sure enough, the call came mid-afternoon: ski trip officially canceled. Boo. It's probably the prudent choice, and and certainly welcome news for nervous parents concerned about putting their teens on a bus headed into a blizzard; but disappointing news nonetheless.

To add insult to that injury, now I'm scrambling for cooking inspiration - I was kind of looking forward to a weekend away from the kitchen. Hmmm. Wonder if the pizza places are delivering tonight?

3.75 @10.54 min/mi = tired to the nth degree

I should have just sucked it up and ran the last 1/4 mile, but my legs and feet (and back!) were tired, so I stopped short of my goal. Whimper, whimper. But it did feel really good to get in *almost* 4 miles this morning. And I'm finally hitting a good stride - just a few more clicks and I'll be at 10 minutes/mile. I'll never be the fastest runner in the world, but I'm zeroing in on a respectable pace, all things considered (like my advancing age, the relatively short length of time I've been running, how seriously I take it, etc.)

The local weathermen are predicting a snowfall of epic proportions tomorrow. Histrionics to boost ratings, probably. But along with everyone else in the southeastern U.S. (and parts of the Midwest), I will be hitting the grocery store today and hoping the weather holds up so we can make it to Perfect North tomorrow night without incident.

I guess I should stock up on potatoes while I'm grocery shopping - the pooch has decided she's soooo hungry she is willing to steal potatoes from the pantry and gnaw on them when I'm not looking. This morning, I nearly tripped over a spud lying on the floor near her second bed (yes, the princess has two beds.) It had doggy slobber on it, so it had to be her. (Plus she just looked guilty. And hungry.) Dieting is fit for neither man nor beast, it would seem...

Crockpot-a-palooza

How many meals can a crockpot make? A lot - perhaps even 365 meals, it would seem. Last Saturday it simmered pinto beans. Sunday it *would* have held the chili, but I chanced leaving a dutch oven on the stove top, under DH's somewhat watchful eye, praying he'd at least hear the timer while he enthusiastically set up a (bigger) TV and stereo system in the den. Gotta be ready for Super Bowl weekend, ya know?

All's well that ends well - the chili was actually pretty darn fabulous if I say so myself.

Yesterday the crockpot held a new recipe dish of pork chops smothered with onions, field peas and snaps (a little bland for our taste) and today it's slowly simmering a pot roast. I have had a crockpot since we got married, and I do rely on this trusty appliance for a lot of dishes, especially in the winter. One of my family's favorites is an all-day (or all-night) brisket, topped simply with mustard and a packet of onion soup mix, a recipe I discovered in the original Once-a-Month Cookbook (which I highly recommend to anyone trying to juggle school or job while keeping family dinner a high priority.)

The week is zipping by, and I have two newsletters (one for our children's program and a brand-new newsletter for our youth group) deadlines looming. Both 4-page newsletters need to be finished and ready to print and distribute by Sunday - which means my deadline is more like Thursday or Friday. Eeek!

At least the highlighter's newsletter was published by mid-January; and after this 2-issue pileup, the publishing schedule should become saner, with one quarterly publication, and two bi-monthlies produced on alternating months.

In my 9-to-5 (or 6 or 7 or 10) workaday world, things are a little topsy-turvy at the moment. Our website was recently sold to another organization, and everyone's trying to figure out exactly what that means for everybody. Stay tuned...

To snow or not to snow?

With all due apologies to The Bard, that is the question, at least for today. White pellets hit my window for a few minutes, then they stop as suddenly as they began. Start, stop. Start, stop. It's not sticking, though, so maybe there won't be a run on milk and bread just yet. (Even if there were a stampede, I think we'd be okay, since I did grocery shopping on Saturday. Of course, I didn't buy milk...hmmm.)

Speaking of pellets, the cat managed to rip open one of her krinkly "Kong" toys from Christmas, and spewed little pellets everywhere she carried the poor dead remains before we could stop her. Guess it's a good thing Flylady is focusing on the living areas this week...something tells me that Dyson and I will be busy playing pickup all week.

But back to the topic of snow. Our youth group is preparing for its annual pilgrimage to Perfect North in Lawrenceburg, Indiana for a weekend of snowy fun: tubing, boarding, or skiing - it's all there for us to enjoy. Of course, colder temps and more white stuff coming down from the sky means less manufactured snow and fewer icy patches to contend with on the slopes. So we'll keep our fingers crossed this week for some snowy days here--and in Indiana.

To continue my really random word association: Indiana. Home of the Colts, and to our own beloved UT alum and adopted Tennessee son, Peyton Manning. We'll be rooting for you on the 7th! That's also the day our congregation is holding a SOUP'R Sunday - we'll help restock our food pantry with donated items, and entice members to stay for lunch with a variety of warm and yummy soups while they check out the various service opportunities they can volunteer to help with in 2010. Then we'll all have the evening free to watch Super Bowl XLIV (or 44 for those who have forgotten their Roman numerals.) Definitely a day to look forward to - please come join us if you're in the neighborhood.

The fickleness of January

Winters here in the Midsouth are mercurial in nature, and blessedly short (at least compared to regions north and west of us.) January can bring bitter cold and snow one week, springlike temperatures (and a spring-esque thunderstorm) the next; in fact one is rolling through right now, complete with thunder and lightning.

But I know better than to let this week of warmer temps fool me - winter isn't through with us, even though we're almost through with January. (Wow - one month down already? We'll blink and it'll be fall again.)

This time of year, there's much to do. The seed catalogs are starting an urgent drumbeat: it's time to make the final selections for okra, lettuce, tomato and pepper seeds for the year, and get in orders for onion sets and potatoes. A ski trip next weekend to Perfect North will wrap up the month, and then it's on to Groundhog's Day, Valentine's Day, a few more ups and downs on the thermometer and we'll bid February a fond adieu, too.

March will usher in the start of gardening in earnest - planting peas and setting out cool season crops, and start hardening off the tomato and pepper seedlings for later in the month.


Last year's garden was a complete bust. I set out tomato plants I drove to Jackson to buy from Marianna's Heirloom Tomatoes, and then I walked away, doing almost nothing with them. I'm ashamed I gave my neighbor too much leeway in my psyche last year, but he and his Roundup sprayer apparently had a blast near my flower and herb border two summers ago, and I still see red every time I think about finding dry, crunchy stalks instead of dahlias and roses and thyme.

But I'm determined to shake off the funk and take back my garden spot this year, mentally and physically. I am longing for fresh-from-the-garden vegetables and just-picked bouquets for my table, and a pantry full of jars of tomatoes, pickles and jams next fall. So maybe I'll also get some to-the-point "don't spray" signs to post along the fence...

TGIF

Most weeks are actually fun cruising through, but occasionally I have a week I'm just really glad to put behind me. This one is shaping up to be one of those, so I'm truly grateful it's Friday. (It IS Friday, isn't it?)

Winter finally loosened its icy grip on the South, and we're back to daytime temperatures in the 40s and 50s. It seems almost balmy outside! I happily queued up with every other self-respecting 'boro resident to wash my car yesterday, and was very thankful for the new Super Speed Wash that opened near us, complete with free, unlimited vacuuming. The car is shiny outside and relatively clean inside - hooray!

The final BHS swim meet for 2009/2010 was last night, and our frosh swimmer did awesome, especially in her 100-meter breast stroke event, giving the upperclassmen a real run for their money. I also got to catch up with some friends in Lebanon, whose daughters also swim...it's hard to believe we all have kids in high school (and beyond) these days.

Tomorrow is our annual "reveal" meeting for the Highland Heights Secret Sisters (it was postponed last week due to the cold and snow that lingered.) Amy W. and Courtney D. have done an amazing job of getting members involved in this group, and it has grown and flourished under their super-organized and enthusiastic nurturing. I'm excited to find out who my secret sister has been; I know I have been blessed by her prayers and notes of encouragement throughout this past year. I'm also grateful for the opportunity I've had to get to know my "sister" better over this past year while thinking of her and praying for her and her sweet family.

I think I'll make the hot chicken salad (mine is pretty similar, but I add a bit of cream cheese, and use potato chips instead of corn flakes) that I was planning to carry last week. For dinner I'll try my hand at pan pizzas like these. My family loves pizza, and they say they like my homemade pizza, but I'm always looking for a better crust recipe. We'll see how this one goes.

Second Monday in January

Believe it or not, it is national "Clean Off Your Desk Day." Yes, it's apparently an actual holiday - I found a reference to it in Boardroom.com's Bottom Line. I beat the rush and cleaned mine off yesterday, which could explain why there's a chance of snow again today. Cleaning off my desk is such an unusual activity, it might just trigger a weather phenomenon.

In other news, our dinner party was so much fun, thanks to our guests who joined us for a wonderful meal and time to just sit and talk...something we don't do enough of with friends. Tonight is Bunco, and yes, it does involve dice and money, but it's not gambling. I'm making a pot of potato soup to take with, as the weather is still very much wintery-feeling.

Middle child had his wisdom teeth taken out today. I guess oral surgery has changed - what was a half-a-day ordeal is now 30 minutes from start to finish.

The snow day that (almost) wasn't

I love the South. God thought enough of me to send me a Southern boy to marry, and I have lived more than half my life south of the Mason-Dixon. Lord willing, I hope to live out my days as a Southerner. I made sure my children were all born in the South, so they can claim full citizenship in the land of Dixie. And I truly adore most everything about the South: our idioms, country ham and grits, our lack of familiarity with turn signals, even our strange roadkill laws.

But Southerners have a collective phobia about the s-word. (You know, "s-n-o-w.") Saying the word is akin to yelling "fire" in a theatre - panic will ensue, so utter it at your own peril.

The possibility of snow has created a commotion here in middle Tennessee. Dozens of school districts announced closures last night, while the weather system was still hanging out in St. Louis. The evening news showed a run on milk - the Purity Dairy delivery guys were scrambling to keep up with demand. Bread was also disappearing off the shelves at an alarming rate.

The mere mention of the word sends chills up our spine - school children and their teachers have all their fingers and toes crossed, hoping for a snow day. Parents (and everyone else) apparently all plot a menu of milk and bread.

We awoke this morning to nary a trace of snow - not in the sky, not on the ground. There might be snow later today...we shall see.

Update as of 5 pm - indeed, it did snow today, enough to turn the ground white. Our Samoyed blended right in. And it got the kids out of school for another day. God bless the South.

A blessing in disguise...

For years, I've smiled sympathetically at signs proclaiming "Bless this Mess" - with three kids, I can relate to a little clutter and dust.

Then, when I became a full-time stay-at-home-mom and realized my kids had a casual relationship with the concept of clean, messiness threatened to overwhelm me and my house. Out of desperation, I found and began following Flylady. I can't say I follow her admonishments to the letter by any means, but a couple of her guidelines have stood me in good stead: I shine my kitchen sink each night, and I have learned to appreciate the idea of blessing my family with a clean and tidy home, instead of blessing a mess.

And yesterday, that weekly house blessing was truly a blessing. I scrubbed our shower and turned on both shower heads to rinse away the cleanser. (The 2nd shower head rarely gets used otherwise.) That's when I discovered that it was frozen. It's on an outside wall, and our temps have been beyond cold. That also caused me to realize that the toilet we thought had a faulty shutoff was probably also suffering from frozen pipe syndrome (FPS is pretty common condition this time of year, although we haven't dealt with it until now - in a brand-new bathroom addition finished less than a year ago. Argh.)

A trusty little ceramic heater managed to dethaw* both pipes. We were lulled to sleep last night by the sound of a slow drip, drip, drip in the shower, and the sporadic hum of the space heater kicking on in the water closet. We awoke this morning to both the shower and the toilet operating properly.

So thank you, Flylady. If not for the weekly house blessing she encourages, I might have not turned on the shower head, which hopefully prevented some busted water lines.

*dethaw - a Southernism, combining "thaw" and "defrost" into one great oxymoron. Speaking of which, I need to dethaw my freezer soon...

For starters

I'm late to the blogging party (actually I sat on the edge of the pool and watched my friends merrily splash around and/or flounder with their blogs for a long time before deciding it was time to take the plunge.)

I consider myself a true domestic dilettante. I love gardening (until it gets too hot), I'm a foodie (until I start another diet), and I love organizing and decorating (or, in less flattering terms, I'm a transformation junkie: I let my closets and corners get cluttered, just so I can get the cheap thrill of cleaning and sorting and scrubbing everything back to sparkling condition.)

Speaking of transformations...cleaning up the Christmas detritus has made me realize how much stuff I have amassed over the years, and how much it clutters up our home when we (errr, I) deck the proverbial halls. I thought I had streamlined things this year, comparatively anyway. But next year I'll definitely be more judicious in my selections. (New Year's resolution #1.)

In other news, I'm also starting a notebook to organize the Christmas cookie recipes, the annual Christmas menu and new/special recipes I bring out only for special occasions, along with a printout of the Christmas card list and maybe even some decorating ideas (minimalist, of course.) I looked for a pre-made organizer or tool, but most of what I found were geared toward scrapbookers. And alas, I'm no scrapbooker. (Although sorting through a decades' worth of photos is high on my resolution list for 2010. New Year's resolution #2.)