All right, K, just for you
Mar. 19th, 2008 11:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanA very happy birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
minnehaha K.
And a kind of mulligatawny of an entry, because I have been remiss of late.
Spring is thinking about coming in. Woodpeckers have been drumming for weeks now, and the sound is interspersed with the rattling of crows. A little later chickadees began singing "phoebe, phoebe," and the cardinals warmed up with a kind of hoo-wa, hoo-wa and have now moved to the full-blown "what cheer, what cheer." Lilacs that lean over west- and south-facing pavements have swelling red buds. My periwinkle and creeping phlox have emerged from the snow all evergreen and fresh.
A few years ago, my mother gave me a metal, ivory-painted figure of a cat, curled up but with its head raised, as if it had just sighted a bird. It's a curly ornate cat in a vaguely Victorian style. I put it in the front flower bed where it could look out from underneath the irises. The last few years it's looked out from under hairy bellflower, but it seemed happy enough with that too. A few weeks ago I was getting ready to go for a walk, and I saw a young woman with a toddler coming slowly down the street. Except that there was no leash, she was proceeding as a person with an elderly curious dog might do, letting the toddler look at whatever seemed interesting, sit down on the sidewalk, reverse direction, or be carried. They passed the sidewalk leading up to our house, and then the toddler stopped and backtracked. They came a little way up the walk and peered earnestly at the north-facing snowbank for some time. I wondered if there was an injured bird or something like that, and whether I should go offer assistance. But they didn't seem distressed, only interested. So I stayed inside, in case the toddler was shy. Eventually they took themselves off, and I went out. Sure enough, the snow had melted from around the head of the little cat figure, so that it was peering out of the snowbank. I saw the same adult and toddler just a few days ago, checking the cat out again.
David and Greg spent last week working in the basement, moving the shop out of the space designated as the new bathroom and putting up a lot of sheetrock in the shop and laundry room. On Saturday, the upstairs furnace went out. Greg heroically, after spending the whole day here, came back over at 11:00 in the evening and helped David rig the furnace for manual operation. The next day he replaced the thermocouple, and now all's well. That is, aside from the fact that the new expansion tank achieved with such trauma ten years ago is already rusting out.
I'm working on my revisions, and hosted my tea group on the Ides of March with a spread that included two kinds of Roman fish-pickle and some stuffed dates fried in honey and red wine. The dates got a little lost in the shuffle of rosemary shortbread, gingerbread, and chocolate tofu pie, but we're enjoying the leftovers.
It's almost time for Minicon, and I'm looking forward to it a lot.
P.
minnehaha K.And a kind of mulligatawny of an entry, because I have been remiss of late.
Spring is thinking about coming in. Woodpeckers have been drumming for weeks now, and the sound is interspersed with the rattling of crows. A little later chickadees began singing "phoebe, phoebe," and the cardinals warmed up with a kind of hoo-wa, hoo-wa and have now moved to the full-blown "what cheer, what cheer." Lilacs that lean over west- and south-facing pavements have swelling red buds. My periwinkle and creeping phlox have emerged from the snow all evergreen and fresh.
A few years ago, my mother gave me a metal, ivory-painted figure of a cat, curled up but with its head raised, as if it had just sighted a bird. It's a curly ornate cat in a vaguely Victorian style. I put it in the front flower bed where it could look out from underneath the irises. The last few years it's looked out from under hairy bellflower, but it seemed happy enough with that too. A few weeks ago I was getting ready to go for a walk, and I saw a young woman with a toddler coming slowly down the street. Except that there was no leash, she was proceeding as a person with an elderly curious dog might do, letting the toddler look at whatever seemed interesting, sit down on the sidewalk, reverse direction, or be carried. They passed the sidewalk leading up to our house, and then the toddler stopped and backtracked. They came a little way up the walk and peered earnestly at the north-facing snowbank for some time. I wondered if there was an injured bird or something like that, and whether I should go offer assistance. But they didn't seem distressed, only interested. So I stayed inside, in case the toddler was shy. Eventually they took themselves off, and I went out. Sure enough, the snow had melted from around the head of the little cat figure, so that it was peering out of the snowbank. I saw the same adult and toddler just a few days ago, checking the cat out again.
David and Greg spent last week working in the basement, moving the shop out of the space designated as the new bathroom and putting up a lot of sheetrock in the shop and laundry room. On Saturday, the upstairs furnace went out. Greg heroically, after spending the whole day here, came back over at 11:00 in the evening and helped David rig the furnace for manual operation. The next day he replaced the thermocouple, and now all's well. That is, aside from the fact that the new expansion tank achieved with such trauma ten years ago is already rusting out.
I'm working on my revisions, and hosted my tea group on the Ides of March with a spread that included two kinds of Roman fish-pickle and some stuffed dates fried in honey and red wine. The dates got a little lost in the shuffle of rosemary shortbread, gingerbread, and chocolate tofu pie, but we're enjoying the leftovers.
It's almost time for Minicon, and I'm looking forward to it a lot.
P.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Woodpeckers
Date: 2008-03-19 05:31 pm (UTC)There was a pair of mallards at Minnehaha Falls ealier this week.
I haven't seen my first robin yet.
B
Re: Woodpeckers
Date: 2008-03-19 09:11 pm (UTC)K. [thanks for the kind thoughts]
Re: Woodpeckers
Date: 2008-03-19 11:54 pm (UTC)My snowdrops are coming up.
P.
Re: Woodpeckers
Date: 2008-03-19 11:54 pm (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-19 06:00 pm (UTC)Nice new userpic there! It reminds me of the Rittenhouse Orrery at Penn, but with flowers.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-19 11:56 pm (UTC)The icon is actually quite old, though possibly I have never used it before.
P.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-19 06:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-19 11:57 pm (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-20 12:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-20 01:20 am (UTC)Mild
3 oz, drained and washed, canned tuna or salmon, or unsalted sardines or unsalted anchovies
2 t white wine
1 T vinegar
1/2 t mustard seed
1/2 t oregano
1/2 t celery seed (or lovage)
1 T olive oil
1/2 t honey
pinch of basil
1/4 t thyme
1 mint leaf, finely chopped
Hot
3 oz, drained and washed, canned tuna or salmon, or unsalted sardines or unsalted anchovies
1 T white wine
1 T vinegar
1 T olive oil
1 small garlic clove, crushed
1/4 t rosemary, ground
1/4 t sage
1 mint leaf, finely chopped
pinch of basil
In a mixing bowl, thoroughly combine all ingredients. This fish-pickle may be stored in the refrigerator in a glass jar for up to 2 weeks, and should then be replaced.
It's amazingly tasty.
P.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-20 01:44 am (UTC)The "hot" one gets very garlicky after a day or two, but isn't hot by the standards of people who have chili peppers.
P.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-21 02:58 am (UTC)Oooh!
Date: 2008-03-21 05:46 pm (UTC)