Everywhere I go, it looks like this.
Briars and broken trees.
So much for the Christmas lights…
View from the dining room windows.
Note to self: learn how to use a chain saw.
Pie
MorePie
Fourth of July
Banjo Man
Glen the Banjo Man
sweet fiddles
The Scottish dinner needed a Scottish dessert, so I dug out my ancient shortbread recipe, along with a gift from Julie in Montana (you can read about her family’s exploits HERE). Check out this cookie cutter! You can call it a fiddle, a bass or a cello. Or even a viola! I preferred to go with “fiddle”, because I love my fiddles.
Here’s the recipe:
SHORTBREAD COOKIES
1 cup butter
3/4 cup sifted powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups sifted flour
1/2 tsp salt
Cream butter, powdered sugar and vanilla until fluffy. Gently stir in flour mixed with salt. Chill for at least 20 minutes. Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Roll dough 3/8″ thick on a floured board. Bake cookies on an ungreased baking sheet for 20-25 minutes, until dry but not brown.
You can dip these in chocolate (melt 6 oz chocolate with 1 tsp shortening) and refrigerate to harden. I’ve frosted them with pink frosting for Valentine’s Day (when the children were little and a heart-shaped cookie was the most exciting thing they’d ever seen). 
I drizzled a powdered sugar glaze on these because they didn’t look pretty enough by themselves. 
Here’s one of my favorite Scottish fiddle songs, Neil Gow’s Lament for his Second Wife. Enjoy.
no such thing as a free ride?
Or is there?
Rhode Island’s metro train system offered free rides from Wickford Junction to Providence each Wednesday in February. And free parking at the station!
I organized a trip. A free trip. My mother, my daughter and my daughter’s mother-in-law were up for it.
The Providence train station is across the street from the high-fallutin’ Providence Place Mall, a place I rarely enter (a) because I’m not much of a shopper, (b) the parking garage is scary and (c) the drive to Providence includes lots of traffic.
I bite my fingernails in traffic.
Two little glitches popped up: my daughter’s sweet mother-in-law had to cancel due to a miserable head cold, and there was a storm. This was a rainstorm worthy of Noah and the Ark, the kind of drenching rain I hadn’t experienced since one frightening day in Scotland, on the Isle of Skye, in a van of Texans who were so sure we were all going to die they became hysterical with laughter. It was either laugh or run off to vomit into the foggy heather.
But I digress.
It was raining yesterday. Trust me on this.
Wickford Station is about 15 minutes from my house in the woods. It was optimistically built as a commuter station, but Rhode Islanders love their cars and most of them are accustomed to traffic, so business is a little slow. The lobby was filled with other rain-soaked day-trippers taking advantage of the free ride. We saw retired teachers we knew, grandparents with grandchildren, older couples, ladies who looked as if they were getting ready to shop.
We braved the rain and boarded the train. Two words: Party bus.
In other words, it was a happy group on the 9:10 train to Providence.
We were pretty wet after walking to the mall, so our first stop was for tea outside of Nordstroms. We strolled through some stores, but had the most fun at the Apple store trying out the new Ipads. I think my mother wants one now. I’m still lusting for an Ipod and speaker dock.
Then we ate lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. Be still my heart.
Daughter Nancy!
Mom with shrimp and pasta.
MorePie with More Shrimp!
Mushroom burger–yum.
Lemoncello Cake
After a most spectacular lunch, we went to Macy’s, where we witnessed an incredible shoplifting display, complete with security guards, managers, two screaming women and bags of fancy dresses thrown to the floor in front of the register.
I was afraid there was going to be a fight.
Then we trudged through the rain again to the train station, where most of our fellow passengers held doggy bags from the Cheesecake Factory, too.
The final fun event of the day was back in Wickford, on the elevator to a lower level of the parking garage. A three-year old boy, still jubilant over his very first train ride, began to shout “Wheeee!” as the elevator descended. The rest of us old folks joined in, which resulted in eleven people shouting “Wheeeeeee!” at the top of our lungs.
A fitting end to the day.
Posted in family, food, rhode island
2 Comments
second annual single malt scotch tasting dinner
Selected for tasting:
Dalwhinnie, 15 year old
Talisker, 10 yo
Cragganmore, 12 yo
Lagavulin, 16 yo
Oban, 14 yo
Glenkinchie, 12 yo
and returning favorite, Laphroig 10 yo
MENU
Assorted Appetizers
Traditional Scottish Cauliflower and Cheddar Soup
Hearty Grain Bread
Bibb lettuce salad with Lemon Tarragon Dressing
Baked Seafood Pie with Potato Crust
Roasted Asparagus
Butties
Strawberries with Cognac Glaze & Cream
Scottish Shortbread Fiddles
Saturday night was the second annual Scotch-tasting dinner. Last year it was here, but our driveway has been damaged by the snowplowing and isn’t fit for company. Banjo Man and I need to move some rocks and get out the shovels. Somehow we don’t seem to be in a lot of hurry to get out there in the mud and the snow and the ice. Go figure.
Bachelor Steve (who, he announced, will not be a bachelor much longer–congratulations!!) graciously agreed to host the dinner at his place, so Banjo Man and I brought all of the food. The cauliflower soup was transported in a crock pot, the seafood pies were preassembled in individual crocks and the asparagus was cooked on site. The strawberries were soaked in cognac ahead of time, which made it all easy.
One of us drank red wine and one of us drank margaritas, but the other six sipped whisky and gave opinions. Great fun!!!!!!
Comments:
Dalwhinnie: mild, one of the favorites of the night
Cragganmore: Banjo Man liked this one the best
Glenkinchie: very strong, definitely needs water
Lagavulin: serious, tastes of “bandaids” and “dirty socks”, but other palates enjoyed the flavors
Oban: always good
Talisker: peppery
Next winter we’re switching it up and testing bourbon. I’m just about out of Scottish menu ideas.
Posted in food, rhode island
2 Comments
this writing life, revised
My editor loved the revisions.
This was a good news/bad news kind of phone call.
Good news? I don’t have to do any more revisions. The check is in the mail.
Bad news? I have no excuse not to write the next two books. I’d planned to give it all up and limp off into the sunset, but…my editor loved the revisions, loved the story and the characters and everything else. I have created a town. I have created tons of characters and many storylines and lots and lots of things going on. I hate to waste the research and the planning.
But…I want a life apart from writing and working and self-pity. I want to play my violin and work my way through the rest of the Blues Fiddle dvd, because it is so good and there is so much I want to learn. I have a baby quilt to finish. And a family. And friends!
So…I guess it boils down to finding a balance. If I can figure out how to write the books and have the life I want too, I will do it.
I’m working on rules for myself:
There will be no bitching.
There will be no crying.
There will be fiddle practice 2 hours a day, even on days when the writing is slow and frustrating.
There will be sewing on Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings (my favorite times at the sewing machine, don’t know why).
There will be no writing after 5 pm.
There will be no writing before 5 am.
Can you think of anything I’ve missed?????
Posted in writing
5 Comments
blizzard, tacos and ikea part 3
Blizzard: Banjo Man and Mom continued to wait for a plow and electricity. Both arrived by Sunday night. Mom would stay with Banjo Man for a few more days, until her walk was shoveled later on in the week.
Tacos: I ate 3 fried avocado tacos from Torchy’s, chicken enchiladas from Guerro’s and a burger from the Magnolia Café.
Ikea: Son #2 and I spent Monday and Tuesday putting more bookcases together (him) and cleaning and cooking and nagging (me). We actually had a pretty good time. We even sold this thing:
It was taking up too much precious closet space, so I put an ad in Craigslist. We sold it the next day to a woman with seven children. Keep in mind this is the smallest washing machine anyone has ever invented. It’s almost useless, even for one person. Why anyone would want it—especially someone with seven children—is one of life’s little mysteries.
Note: I wish I could figure out how to make this blog post interesting.
How about a before and after photo?
BEFORE
AFTER
and long after…
My feet get very tired in Texas.
blizzard, tacos and ikea, part 2
I apologize for having kept you waiting. I have some great storm pics taken by daughter Nancy, but I’ve had no luck transferring them to the blog. Darn. I kept hoping that if I tried enough times, something would work. It didn’t.
So…where were we?
Oh, yes. Saturday. Banjo Man and My Mother were stranded without electricity or water with 2 feet of snow on the ground and the temperature starting to drop to 9 degrees. No one had showed up to shovel or plow. Branches covered the long, wooded driveway. It was time for Banjo Man to once again put on his boots and cold weather gear and hike to Mom’s house. This time he would bring her home, where the propane stove was keeping things warm and toasty in the lower level of the house.
Mom fell outside her back door. She fell again at the bottom of her hill, by the garage. She had hip spasms and couldn’t move. So Banjo Man left her sitting in the snow and hiked back into the woods to find an old toboggan in an old shed. Then he hauled her by toboggan back to the house.
This was no easy feat. It still gives me nightmares.
They celebrated their survival by eating dinner by candlelight near the stove and drinking one or two bottles of wine. At least that’s the rumor.
Meanwhile daughter Nancy and Mike were stranded in the middle of town, six miles away.
Snow up to the roof of the Toyota Highlander
Banjo Man spent the weekend melting snow to flush the toilets. And he built a “hibachi” (as he put it) in the birdbath to heat up meals. My portable radio—complete with batteries—gave them news from the outside world. Their cell phones were kept for quick updates to me and for possible emergencies.
Electricity was restored Sunday night, in time for two hours of Downton Abbey and a non-birdbath dinner. But they were still stranded.
That’s when Jeff showed up with his chainsaw and helped Banjo Man clear the driveway.
We love Jeff. I owe him many chicken enchilada casseroles and all the artichoke dip he can eat.
Meanwhile, Son #2 and I were assembling Ikea bookcases (him) and expounding on the benefits of getting rid of clutter and unnecessary collections of weird things (me). Believe it or not, I can dispense opinions and wisdom while also cooking chicken, pork roast, macaroni and cheese and brownies (Son #1, Sweet D-i-l and Most Handsome Grandson were coming for dinner).
On Sunday we returned to Ikea to fine tune the reorganization plan and ate the Saturday night leftovers with Son #1, etc. My daughter-in-law provided special wine and chocolate-dipped strawberries (the biggest strawberries I’ve ever seen) for our women-only Downton Abbey Watch Party.
Note: it was good to see Mr. Bates get out of prison before he killed someone. How strange to see Thomas cry. Poor Edith can’t catch a break when it comes to men, but it’s good to see her smiling. The clothes aren’t as beautiful as the seasons before. Good for Matthew for manning up and taking control. Lord Wrentham looks dumber every day. Where’s his dog? Who the heck is Rose?
Could any of these people cook hamburgers in a bird bath???????
Posted in austin, family, rhode island
3 Comments
blizzard, austin and ikea, part 1
I have so much to say. Too much, actually. I haven’t blogged because I don’t know where to start. Storm? Grandson? Tacos? What do you want to hear about?
I am in Austin. I left Rhode Island early Thursday morning, landed in Chicago in the midst of light snow and arrived in Texas before noon. The planes were half empty, so having a row of three seats to myself felt absolutely luxurious.
Blizzard Nemo hit home on Friday morning.
While all of this was going on, Son #2 and I were in Ikea.
An Ikea store is approximately the size of London. At the entrance they give you a map and a pencil. There are arrows painted on the floor, and secret passageways to take shortcuts, but the shortcuts are not really short.
We returned a wobbly bookcase and got a store credit. Then we ate in the cafeteria. And then we walked for eight or nine miles looking for solutions to storage problems.
After what seemed like an eternity, we loaded up a couple of hundred pounds of cardboard-encased storage solutions and headed to Son #1’s house to accompany the family to my grandson’s first swimming lesson.
My sweet grandson wasn’t happy. Like his father at that age, he is very suspicious of new things, even with his daddy joining him in the pool.
They both survived and ate plenty of bbq at the restaurant next to Aqua Tots.
Back in Rhode Island, our county was one of the hardest hit. Two feet of heavy snow, a snow that broke plows, would paralyze the Northeast for several days. Banjo Man and my mother (who lives over the hill and through the woods) lost power at 10 PM. The storm was a ferocious combination of blizzard and nor’easter, with a moon tide and high tide complicating things at the height of the winds (up to 80 mph along the coastline of Nantucket).
Banjo Man hiked to my mother’s Saturday morning to check on her, because it was still snowing and she had no heat. He told me this while he was trudging through the snow and explaining how he’d been careful to stop every few minutes to catch his breath. There were branches (or trees?) blocking the long driveway; the plow would not be able to enter. No one was allowed on the roads anyway. 80% of the state was out of power. The temperature was dropping and predicted to be 9 degrees before midnight.
I promptly began having a nervous breakdown, one that would last for the next two days.
To be continued…
Posted in austin, family, grandmother stuff, rhode island
3 Comments
is there any more pie? 