Gung Hay Fat Choy!

Only a month late.  (since we're not officially Chinese we decided we could celebrate late)  Last night was our March Family Supper and JZ & DIL1 made Chinese food.  JZ didn't realize how much work it is to make Chinese food and looked a bit frazzled by the time dinner was served, but it was delicious, every morsel.  They made pot stickers and spring rolls for appetizers, teriyaki ribs rubbed with 5 Spice Powder, stir fried veggies, and rice for the main course, and for dessert we had fortune cookies (they didn't make those) and little balls of green tea ice cream wrapped in rice cake (they didn't make those either and I forgot to take their picture)--all yummy.  DS made homemade ginger ale and then made everyone Dark 'n Stormy cocktails with rum, ginger ale, and lime.  We had sake and tea with our meal.  It was all so good.  While I ran errands yesterday Durwood pored over the Chinese Astrology books and worked up a horoscope for each of us that I then typed into Print Shop and printed out on business cards.  We also folded six little "purses" that we tucked a gold dollar coin into for lucky money that we tucked into little red straw boxes.  DIL1 had place card holders that look like Chinese take-out boxes that I tucked the horoscopes into and she borrowed my little statuettes of the Chinese zodiac animals.  It was a great night.  We have such a good time at those monthly suppers.

I'm going snowshoeing this afternoon with my knitting friend KW.  She suggested that we trek out to a viewing platform over the bay at the far southern end of the Barkhausen Waterfowl Preserve.  I'm looking forward to it.  I'll remember to underdress so I don't die of sweating this time and I'll tuck a couple of clementines in my pockets for a snack since she brought rice crackers last time.  It's a gorgeous sunny day and not windy.  By 3:30 this afternoon when she's picking me up it should be in the mid-20s so a perfect day to snowshoe.  I'll need my shades and some sunscreen.  Oh, gotta fix a stretched stitch in my one fingerless mitt too.

March 3--Velazquez, Don Gaspar de Guzman.  Don patted the neck of the white horse as it galloped over the field.  He had been riding for miles and it seemed like hours since he'd seen another person.  He was hot and thirsty and he knew that Archangel was probably thirsty too.  He felt the ripple of the horse's muscles under his thighs as the pounding hooves ate up the miles.  He enjoyed the feeling of oneness he had achieved with the big white horse as they moved together.

I've never ridden a horse.  Well, I sat on one once and it walked about 20 feet before I made them let me off.  See, I told the guy that I wanted an old, placid horse so he hoisted me up into the saddle on Daisy.  Then as I followed the other horses toward the trail he said, "don't let her get too close to the horse in front, she'll bite them, and don't let her get near a fence or she'll try to scrape you off."  That was enough for me, I'm outta here.  I was 19.  I patted one of the draft horses that pulled our wagon out in Yellowstone and evidently I did it wrong because I stood in front of him where he really couldn't see me well.  Not a horsewoman, no way, no how.  C'est la vie.  Enjoy your Sunday and if you want to come snowshoeing let me know.
--Barbara