I Outfoxed The Weather

Today is Memorial Day, right?  Everyone thinks of Memorial Day as the beginning of summer so people go camping, plan cookouts, all the summer-y things we've ached to do for the last 6 months or so.  But.  It's still spring and the weather in spring (especially this spring, it seems) is nothing if not unpredictable.  Years and years ago we used to be among the Memorial Day campers but after being drenched and frozen a few times, we got smart and stopped.  I found a NY Strip steak in the freezer yesterday and thought it'd be a good "holiday" supper so I brought it up to thaw.  This morning I checked the weather only to discover that it was supposed to rain all afternoon.  ALL afternoon.  So I decided that I'd fire up the grill about 11:30, grill my steak before it started raining, and have my "holiday" supper for lunch.  It was delicious.  After lunch I went to the garden center for a replacement summer squash plant and to peruse the herb-eating-rodent/mammal repellents.  I got my squash plant and some pellets to sprinkle around.  Fingers crossed.

On my way home from the garden center I stopped at Joann Fabrics to look at robe patterns.  I got one for only $1.99 but I also go two lengths of fabric for more dresses.  I'm addicted, I know, but I really enjoy making them and these fabrics were 70% off.









Right in the door of the fabric store was a display of umbrellas for $4.99 printed with vintage Simplicity patterns.  I couldn't resist.  Besides it was raining when I left home and continued to rain until I sat down here to write this blog post so I was in an umbrella state of mind.




Here's how the caramelized onions looked when I got up this morning after 10 hours of cooking.  Then there was three more hours of cooking after herbs, broths, garlic, and sherry were added.  My house smelled heavenly.




This evening I figured out how to cut out a dress from two different lengths of denim.  Instead of making the front in one and the back out of the other, I calculated how much of it I could get out of the lighter blue, made a little mark on the pattern, then cut the rest of the skirt out of the darker blue.  I'll seam them together, stitch the seam down so it behaves, and sew it up.  I love the bug fabric of the pockets.


27 May--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon.

Putting the stained and faded pickle card into the recipe holder that Matthew had made in Cub Scouts, I reached into the pantry cupboard and pulled out the canning jars and kettles.  “Just in time,” I said, as the back door opened and Clara came in.  “How’s ‘the It girl’ today?”

“Oh, you,” she said, fists on her generous hips, “I wish you’d quit with that ‘It girl’ stuff.  Nobody remembers Clara Bow anymore except old farts and they’re dying off.”  She paused.  “I guess that makes you an old fart, just don’t you die on me.”

We got to work and started the cauliflower pickles, letting the chopped vegetables for the pickles sit in big bowls with ice and salt, while we made three kinds of jam.

“You know, I’m glad your mom gave you a pickle recipe that has a lemonade break built in,” said Clara as we sat on the porch after finishing the jam.  “It’s always so blamed hot this time of year when there’s so much canning and freezing to be done.”

“It sure it hot today.  When I was a kid, I always volunteered to make the pickles because of that three-hour sitting time.  Lydie helped with the jam because she loved it so much, but by the end of the day she looked like a wet rag.  And I was as cool as a cucumber, or in this case, a cauliflower.”  We laughed at my pun.  “Of course, we made cucumber ones, too.  Pop had to have regular pickles on his sandwich every day, with cauliflower pickles on the side.  He was a man who really loved pickles.”

Clara reached to put her sweating glass on the porch rail and saw the stripe.  “Oh, honey, you got black paint on here.  You’d better get some thinner and see if you can’t get it off.”

“It’s not a mistake, Clara.”  I took a sip of lemonade.  “I was watching the sunset the other night and thought about how I’d sat here so many nights, I knew where it would touch the railing, so I made that little stripe.”  With an embarrassed chuckle I pointed at the slat below, “I dated it there.”

“Esther the chicken died,” Clara read.  “I didn’t know you named your chickens.”

“Just Esther.  She was the old, feisty hen that always chased the grandkids, so I made her into soup the other day.  Serves her right for scaring them.”

I'm happy to say that I got a call from the landscaper this evening.  He's coming over tomorrow morning to finalize the plans for the retaining wall and said that they'll be starting work this week.  Yay!  I'll be glad to get that done.
--Barbara