tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123402862024-03-13T14:59:08.689-04:00. . . in the pantryDomestic Musings and Interior Monologues from Kentucky to New England • • FAMILY • • FARM • • FOOD • • FRIENDS • • HOME PLACE • • PANTRY • •Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.comBlogger351125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-49603436816446324932017-04-21T14:13:00.001-04:002017-04-21T14:13:36.605-04:00THE PANTRY is 10 years old!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span> <span style="font-size: large;">will never forget that moment when I held and opened a copy of my first book, <i>The Pantry–Its History and Modern Uses</i>, for the first time. </span>It was more euphoric than when I saw my first published article, back in the January 1990 issue of <i>Victoria</i> Magazine (the original Hearst version) on my several years living and giving tours at the Victorian-era <a href="http://www.thegibsonhouse.org/">Gibson House Museum</a> in Boston, Massachusetts. But it was a similar, once-in-a-lifetime experience: because there will never be a first book, or a first article, again.<br />
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The comparison to writers opening up their published books for the first time to holding their first child, or any of their babies, is very apt. The labor that goes into a book, the timeframe, the expectancy, the wondering, the fretting (the "will other people like it?"). All of it. It's very similar because, as with a child, you are birthing something from your heart and soul and mind. And unlike a child, a book has a longer shelf-life. It might exist for centuries and it is its own kind of legacy.<br />
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But yet, no, nothing is like holding your newborn for the first time. That is in its own special realm!<br />
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I am working on several other books right now and will keep this blog updated and at my more active blog on our farm life in Kentucky, <a href="http://www.farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/">Farmwife At Midlife</a>.<br />
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<i>The Pantry</i> is still available <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/p/order-pantry-signed.html">via my website</a>, only $20 postage paid (USA). The original cover price was $16.95 and is still that, if not less when you consider that postage has gone up in the past decade (even media mail, which is the most affordable way to send and actually quite quick, too).<br />
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I am happy to sign your copy, or inscribe it, and send it out as soon as possible (which is faster now that spring is here and the roads are clearer...well, or as life is less complicated as it has been).<br />
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Today, April 21st, is also the 12th anniversary of this very blog, started while researching and writing the book. A lot has happened in social media since that time and I still enjoy blogging over at "Farmwife at Midlife" which has had a recent revival of sorts.<br />
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-10970679387495775142015-04-21T16:33:00.000-04:002015-04-21T16:33:29.506-04:0010 Years of Blogging!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today, April 21st, 2015</span> is the 10th anniversary of this blog and of my blogging anything at all, in fact. I don't post regularly here any more but there are many changes taking place over at, or related to, my <a href="http://www.farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/">Farmwife at Midlife</a> blog writing. I'll be detailing everything there in the coming weeks.<br />
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In the meantime, <i>The Pantry-Its History and Modern Uses</i> is still available from my <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/">website</a>.<br />
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I will continue to post pantry-related updates as I can as pantries will always be in our lives. You can follow our continued farm life over at my other blog even though I detailed it here until 2011.<br />
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My very best wishes and thanks for your readership over the years.<br />
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––<i><span style="font-size: large;">Catherine</span></i>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-55986964114004433792014-09-11T19:39:00.002-04:002014-09-11T19:49:15.875-04:00The Pantry in The Wall Street Journal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.600000381469727px;"><a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/">Catherine Seiberling Pond </a>was interviewed about the history of pantries in </span><span style="font-size: 15.600000381469727px;">"The Rise of the Super Pantry," by Nancy Keates, </span><i style="font-size: 15.600000381469727px;">The Wall Street Journal</i><span style="font-size: 15.600000381469727px;">, September 11, 2014 [print edition: September 12, 2014]. </span><a href="http://online.wsj.com/articles/the-rise-of-the-super-pantry-1410449896" style="font-size: 15.600000381469727px;">Click here</a><span style="font-size: 15.600000381469727px;"> for a link to the article.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.600000381469727px;"><i>The Pantry–Its History and Modern Uses</i> is no longer in print but <u>still available for purchase</u> from my <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/">website</a>.</span> I bought it back from my publisher, Gibbs Smith, in 2009 when it was remaindered, knowing that pantries were only just beginning to enjoy a design resurgence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 21px;">Hardbound, signed and beautifully photographed, copies of the only printing of<i> The Pantry–Its History and Modern Uses</i> are </span><span style="line-height: 21px;">available for only $20.00 (<i>including shipping</i>) </span><span style="line-height: 21px;">exclusively from the author. Click on the "<a href="http://catherinepond.blogspot.com/p/order-pantry-signed.html">Order THE PANTRY</a>" link, above, for more information or to order, or contact Catherine Pond at <a href="mailto:info@CatherinePond.com">info@CatherinePond.com</a> [PayPal or check.] </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">T</span><span style="font-size: large;">here is much to love about </span><i><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/downtonabbey/">Downton Abbey</a>.</span> </i>Airing here on PBS as part of "Masterpiece Classics" and now ending its second season, the series is filmed in an historic English estate, there are marvelous clothes and real settings, and the characters are feisty and largely likeable, with fast-paced plots just sudsy enough to keep our interest. It is written by <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2002/05/09/1020906531442.html">Julian Fellowes</a>, who also wrote the equally frothy motion picture <i>Gosford Park </i>(and whom you may remember as the rascal Killwillie in the Scottish-based<i> Monarch of the Glen</i>, a more modern take on the aristocratic and sporting life that remains in Great Britain). The series is a glimpse into the large scale country house era that once existed on both sides of the Atlantic and, seemingly, something of which we can not get enough. Of course, there are pantries and larders and silver vaults, too.</div>
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Carson, the loyal butler of Downton Abbey, awaits his supper below stairs.</div>
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As in <i>Gosford Park</i>, Fellowes has created a world where the servant and sire know their position and everything runs within well-oiled systems, precise order, and an awareness of one's place. World War I was a game-changer for all of that, even for our American "aristocracy." What I like about Fellowes' approach is that he pays equal attention to the domestic staff, which outnumbered the family members several times over, as he does the lives of those who are on the receiving end of such loyal service. In the past several decades, the museum world in Britain and the United States has begun to <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1320949/Downstairs-Downton-Abbey-How-real-servants-worked-14-hour-days-maids-confined-virgin-quarters.html">take notice of this importance</a>. No house museum tour is worth its admission without seeing a glimpse into the "below stairs" life. Kitchens, sculleries, pantries, cellars, laundries, and servant bedrooms are now regular parts of most house museum experiences with the names, faces and histories of the domestic staff of a household often researched in detail. [Of course, a love of these spaces fueled my interest in writing, <i><a href="http://inthepantry.blogspot.com/p/order-pantry.html">The Pantry-Its History and Modern Uses</a></i>.]</div>
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Stan Hywet Hall in Akron, Ohio is an architectural nod to English manors and an</div>
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I have always been an Anglophile. This is motivated by architectural and historical interest as much as great literature, a rainy and lush climate (but notice how it never seems to rain at Downton Abbey?), stodgy nursery food and a good cup of tea (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">OK</span>, and for a brief few pubescent years I read a lot of Regency romances). My great-grandparents, of German and English heritage, were über Anglophiles. In 1912 they set out with their architect and decorator on buying trips to Great Britain to find suitable furnishings–even buying old bits of manors and castles that were for sale–for the Tudor Revival estate they were creating back in Akron, Ohio. Enamored as they were with their British travels (<a href="http://englishbuildings.blogspot.com/2011/09/compton-wynyates-warwickshire_08.html">Compton Wynyates</a> and <a href="http://www.haddonhall.co.uk/">Haddon Hall</a> were especially inspiring), they decided to stay a few extra weeks and went ahead and cancelled their homeward trip on the Titanic in April 1912. <a href="http://www.stanhywet.org/">Stan Hywet Hall</a> likely owes it ultimate completion to that fateful decision. That it even exists today is because it was signed over in 1957 by the six Seiberling children to a non-profit museum foundation and left as originally furnished and decorated–complete with paintings, china, silver, full cupboards, closets and drawers.</div>
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Gertrude Penfield Seiberling, c. 1925.</div>
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The house, which opened in 1915, had all of the grandiose trappings of its era and yet always maintained a cozier sense of home and family. There were balls and galas, events in the Music Room, garden parties and large family dinners (<a href="http://seiberlingvisualhistory.org/Barberton_Herald_biography/">F.A. Seiberling</a>, my great-grandfather, was one of nine children who lived in the Akron area and he liked to gather the clan together often). Christmas was a beloved time and my father's childhood Christmases at the manor were a source of many happy memories. On certain occasions, the manor and its grounds were also opened to the public or to employees of Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company. The English would have scoffed, I'm sure, but the attention to detail in the house is transporting and the intended effect has succeeded in the appearance of an estate that has evolved over centuries. <a href="http://ech.case.edu/ech-cgi/article.pl?id=SCS1">Charles Schneider</a>, a Cleveland architect, won the commission because his design was warm and appealing, not at all like the marbled halls of many of the <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/carnegie/gildedage.html">Gilded Age</a> homes in Newport and New York that the Seiberling family found wanting.</div>
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<i>Downton Abbey</i> incorporates aspects of the American Gilded Age in the newer wealth of Cora, Lady Grantham's heritage paired with the aristocratic, but slowly impoverished, Edwardian English estate of her husband Lord Grantham. Despite his wife's money, and their three daughters, the estate and its contents must pass by law to the next male heir, ideally with sufficient funds for its maintenance to keep it within direct lineage–an example of the male heir primogeniture holdover of feudal law. Marriages of this kind were not uncommon during this time when wealthy women from American industrial families were paired with English noblemen to infuse dwindling estates with cash and uphold their preservation. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Thus, a tentative "marriage of convenience" was forged between pockets of the American nouveau riche and a few bastions of fading English aristocracy.</span></i><br />
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The F.A. Seiberling family around 1915, after Stan Hywet was completed. My grandfather, James Penfield, is at the upper left, alongside his sister-in-law Henrietta Buckler Seiberling (who would later be instrumental in the creation of Alcoholic's Anonymous), brothers Fred and Willard, and in front (from left), sister Virginia Seiberling Handy, parents F.A. Seiberling and Gertrude Penfield Seiberling, flanking youngest sibling, Franklin, Jr., and sister Irene S. Harrison.</div>
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One of the many reasons I continue to enjoy Stan Hywet today is because it is the only repository of family memory that I have left in Akron: we long ago left the small house across town where I grew up and my grandparents' home, just up the road from Stan Hywet, was sold in 1983. Where there were once several dozen staff, by the end of World War II there were only a few servants (and the once well-manicured grounds more or less went wild). Meanwhile, my father's household in a comfortable 1923 Spanish Mission style house nearby had two live-in staff and several hired as needed. He and my mother spent their married years in a much smaller suburban Colonial, across town, with no maids. By the 1960s, the world that my family had known no longer existed and paralleled the demise of the midwestern Rust Belt's industrial heyday. While I can't deny that I am grateful for a glimpse into this other world––or that I take pride in my heritage on both sides of my family––at the same time I am blessed to have had a grounded upbringing from each of my parents that focused on values, kindness and the merits of a good education: part middle class suburban offerings and part New Hampshire farm.</div>
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F.A. Seiberling in front of Stan Hywet in 1942.</div>
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It's fun to speculate "what if?" What if the family had returned on the Titanic? Would Stan Hywet still have been built? What if there hadn't been a hostile takeover of Goodyear Tire & Rubber in 1921? What if the family had still been involved with Goodyear and never founded Seiberling Tire & Rubber (when F.A. lost Goodyear he turned around after a few months and started another tire company, which stayed in the family until a corporate raid in 1960)? What if the family still owned Stan Hywet? Would there have been a pattern of primogeniture as there was in Great Britain or would my grandfather, the second of two sons, who ran Seiberling Tire after his father passed the baton, been the heir apparent to the home? The speculation is fun but the reality is that, in deeding the entire estate and its contents in 1957, the six siblings guaranteed that the property and grounds would never be divided, sold or destroyed. Today it continues to live up to its noblesse oblige Latin motto carved over the door: "Non Nobis Solum" (Not for us alone) with a well-preserved house, collections and accurately restored landscapes and gardens. [Meanwhile, <a href="http://www.highclerecastle.co.uk/">Highclere Castle</a>, the very English and historic setting of <i>Downton Abbey</i>, remains privately owned through direct lineage of the Carnarvon family since 1679, and is also open to the public.]</div>
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So as my husband and I watch <i>Downton Abbey</i> from our humble doublewide on our Kentucky farm, it seems a rather strange way of glimpsing a reassuring sense of order and family life in a changing world. While the fictional characters in the household of Downton Abbey mourn the way it was before World War I, nearly one hundred years later we look back at a past we did, or did not, know with the same, odd kind of longing. No matter what era we're in, it's usually about one's sense of place in the world, family hierarchy and relations, a well-appointed house (or hopes and plans of one), great dinner parties, and the intricacies of romance and relationships. Strong and imperious no-nonsense matriarchs with great one-liners go a long way, too, even if snark was probably not very fashionable in those days. I want to be like the Dowager Countess when I grow up! And, while we're being silly (sort of), a devoted butler would be fabulous.</div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-10675886479565774192012-01-15T16:43:00.001-05:002012-06-10T18:58:13.675-04:00Housekeeping<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">t's that time of year!</span> 2012 is upon us and I'm doing some major housekeeping: of our home spaces, my office, and my blog and web presence. I have a new personal author site that I will now be able to keep routinely updated at <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/">CatherinePond.com</a>. In the next few months I will also be uploading and linking direct PDF links to published magazine articles and online articles. You can also browse pantry-related things on a new tabs feature, above, for more information on pantries and specific book-related information.</div>
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In honor of this organizational frenzy (which includes my actual pantries) and a new self-imposed frugality (I haven't spent a penny on anything since before New Year's, including groceries), I am happy to announce that copies of my book, <i>The Pantry</i>, are now available for only $10, plus shipping! This is not a book you'd want on an e-reader and, at this price, it's worth having it on your coffee table. They make a great gift or inspiration for your own home.</div>
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Why am I doing this, you ask? Several years ago my publisher was going to remainder the books, originally sold at $16.95 (and a bargain at that price). I knew there was still a market for <i>The Pantry</i>, based on people who follow my blog and who often ask me pantry-related questions. And, it remains the only book exclusively on pantries and their history and design in the American home. So I bought all copies back from the publisher that hadn't sold, save for a few they held back for Amazon (about 100 and I believe they are all gone now), and have been selling them ever since.</div>
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It's hard to write and market your own work but there it is. I just want to share something with you of which I am proud and that I also believe in: a pantry, of some kind, in every home. And to thank you for your loyal readership over the years: at my blogs and elsewhere.</div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Now available for only $10.00 (plus $4.95 shipping and handling) </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #561e17; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 21px;">Click "<a href="http://inthepantry.blogspot.com/p/order-pantry.html">Order THE PANTRY</a>" for more information, or to order.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #561e17; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15.84px; line-height: 14px;">Includes autographing and/or inscribing, if desired. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #561e17; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.84px;">Inquire about wholesale discounts or other sales at <a href="mailto:info@CatherinePond.com">info@CatherinePond.com</a></span></span></div>
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</span>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-32403258217424526942011-12-01T14:34:00.001-05:002011-12-08T16:18:08.805-05:00Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7eYtBnb7rO0/TtfYwdQGkoI/AAAAAAAAF44/qFnvLM8RpN4/s1600/card00157_fr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7eYtBnb7rO0/TtfYwdQGkoI/AAAAAAAAF44/qFnvLM8RpN4/s400/card00157_fr.jpg" width="257" /></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">In the spirit of simplicity, this will be my only blog post this month.</span> If you'd like to read more about our Christmas this year, check out my<i> Farmwife at Midlife</i> blog where I've posted today about <a href="http://farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/2011/12/at-holidays-less-is-always-more.html">"Less is Always More"</a> at the holidays. I'm deliberately not going to blog any more this month on any of my three blogs––even if I have to sit on my hands!––to save up time and room for a simple, relaxing holiday––and to spend more time with my family: how, may I ask, do we do that if we're always on the computer? Also, there is a link back to some <a href="http://inthepantry.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-cookie-recipes.html">Christmas cookie recipes on this blog</a> and you can always search <i>In the Pantry</i> (see column at right) for more holiday and food-related blogs from Christmas Past. As this blog is now over six years old, there is plenty of fodder in that department.<br />
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Father Christmas visiting Stan Hywet Hall, c. 1940. </div>
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[That's my grandmother on the right.]</div>
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If you are in the Akron, Ohio area this season you can visit this </div>
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historic manor during the holidays and enjoy their decorated Tudor Revival-era </div>
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rooms and beautifully lit grounds. Click <a href="http://www.stanhywet.org/"><span class="s1">here</span></a> for more information.</div>
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Also, please remember that I still have copies of <i>The Pantry–Its History and Modern Uses</i> available for sale at my <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/html/order_the_pantry.html">website</a>. They make excellent gifts and I am happy to sign, and inscribe, copies and even ship them directly to anyone on your list. Hardbound, and filled with beautiful color photography, the book is an affordable addition to your home library. And still only $16.90, including shipping! <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/html/order_the_pantry.html">Order today</a> in time for the holidays ~<br />
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Blessings to you and your family this holiday season, and always,</div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Catherine</span></i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My father, left, admiring the Yule Log in the Great Hall of Stan Hywet Hall, c. 1940.</td></tr>
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PS For more great images of <a href="http://www.stanhywet.org/">Stan Hywet Hall and Gardens</a>––at Christmas and through the years (both archival and promotional)––check out this new blog by architectural historian <a href="http://mrmhadams.typepad.com/">Michael Henry Adams</a>, a fellow Akronite who now resides New York City.<br />
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</div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-89697944282424854562011-11-23T23:31:00.001-05:002011-11-23T23:33:50.261-05:00Happy Thanksgiving from My Larder to Yours!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-81952456239888313372011-10-06T23:06:00.001-04:002011-10-06T23:16:03.511-04:00At a Newsstand Near You! Yummy Kitchens-and pantries!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Just a note to say that if you are looking for some great ideas for your new or old kitchen, inspired by vintage and historic prototypes, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Old House Journal</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Old-House Interiors</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> magazines have joined forces to produce a special issue, </span><i><a href="http://www.oldhouseonline.com/tag/kitchen-classics/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Kitchen Classics</span></a></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">.</span> It is available for a limited time at larger bookstores and/or certain magazine stands (and possibly via their website, although I'm not certain).<br />
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The editors were also kind to include two articles I had written several years back for <i>Old-House Interiors</i> on pantries and Hoosier cabinets. It is online <a href="http://www.oldhouseonline.com/pantry-design-ideas/">here</a> (although the layout in the magazine––with more photographs–-is much better!). The publication of the original pantry article was what inspired me to put together the book proposal for <i>The Pantry</i>.<br />
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This special issue is a keeper for any kitchen (and pantry) enthusiast for new-old design ideas, resources and wonderful photography. I'm going to tuck it away in my file marked "Future Farmhouse Kitchen." I can dream, can't I?<br />
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In the meantime, I've been promising photos of our new cottage pantry at the farm which is a great stand-in for the time being: we don't live in the cottage because it is too small for all of us, so, naturally, I have adopted it. [And it will one day be our 'doty house' for our older years.] It also has a great canning kitchen that has been in constant use these past two months. So, I will make those photos a priority as soon as I get organized post-canning!<br />
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Best wishes and have a lovely autumn season wherever you may be,<br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Catherine</span></i>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-51580926030640480862011-08-22T02:33:00.002-04:002011-09-26T00:44:33.978-04:00Canning Season<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It is full-fledged canning season at the farm so come on over to my other blog </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/">Farmwife at Midlife</a></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> and visit me in my cottage canning kitchen. </span>There are gently cooling breezes down from the knob and we can enjoy the porch again after a long heat wave and drought-like conditions here in south-central Kentucky.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span>I promise there will be more regular updates here at <i>In the Pantry</i> with pantry-related posts throughout the autumn and winter months ahead.<br />
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In the meantime, I'm filling our pantries and freezers from now until the colder weather. Getting a woodstove installed–oh how I miss a woodstove!–and we will soon be piling up many cords of seasoned wood from our farm on our back porch. Here in the very hot and dry South we will welcome Fall sooner than we did in the Northeast. And Fall rains will be welcome as will the cozier and cooler days ahead. I used to mourn the summer's passing in late August–now I embrace it like an old friend or my favorite shawl.<br />
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And oh how I still love to fill a pantry, our many freezers, and a wood box. There is something immensely gratifying about seeing your jars of the summer harvest lined up in rows on the shelf. It is a visual record of a day's work, of self-sustenance and good nourishment, too. The idea of living out of our own food stores, with our own animals and eggs, local produce from farmers we know, and avoiding the store? Priceless.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-14990411452667526862011-08-16T20:54:00.003-04:002011-08-16T20:58:45.120-04:00Pantries I Saw on My Summer Vacation<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An old Hoosier-esque cupboard in the shed at <a href="http://www.pickaway.com/visitors.html">Green's Heritage Museum</a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">W</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">e took several trips to Ohio this summer and, of course, I brought my camera along. </span>I'm always on the lookout for unusual spaces and pantry places along the way. What's fun about visiting Ohio is that even though I have spent much time there––as a child and adult––there is always something new to see or find. [For more about <a href="http://farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-i-learned-on-my-vacation.html">"What I Learned on My Summer Vacation,"</a> please see my <i><a href="http://www.farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/">Farmwife at Midlife</a></i> blog.] We don't go far together now that we have a cattle farm and much responsibility here in Kentucky, so we do try to pack as much time as we can into our short trips.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The butler's pantry at the <a href="http://www.nps.gov/jaga/index.htm">James A. Garfield Historic Site</a> in Mentor, Ohio.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The interior of the small field worker's wagon at Green's Heritage Museum.<br />
It was used by migrant workers from Kentucky who came up to Ohio each summer.<br />
There is a small bedroom and an open area for cooking and living space––like a Gypsy caravan.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xvvMDj_BBzE/TkrkEArkeUI/AAAAAAAAEdo/gx20R5sv1OQ/s1600/IMG_0342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xvvMDj_BBzE/TkrkEArkeUI/AAAAAAAAEdo/gx20R5sv1OQ/s400/IMG_0342.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cupboard and counter in the field worker's wagon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A former tourist cabin.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cupboard and kitchen area of the tiny tourist cabin<br />
at Green's Heritage Museum. What little girl, or grown woman,<br />
would not want this as a playhouse of their own?</td></tr>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8ObRpFxvLA4/Tkrg3qux2CI/AAAAAAAAEdY/_3OesgPj8eY/s1600/IMG_0303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8ObRpFxvLA4/Tkrg3qux2CI/AAAAAAAAEdY/_3OesgPj8eY/s320/IMG_0303.JPG" width="211" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zZIPoID4uzA/TkrhTcpRAmI/AAAAAAAAEdc/zIesZ-uAuc8/s1600/IMG_0302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zZIPoID4uzA/TkrhTcpRAmI/AAAAAAAAEdc/zIesZ-uAuc8/s320/IMG_0302.JPG" width="211" /></a><br />
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Two views of the kitchen and pantry area that was in the old store at Green's Heritage Museum. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A row of old oatmeal boxes in the old store.</td></tr>
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A "Portable Pantry," made in Ohio in the latter part of the 19th century. I'd heard about them but had never seen one before. I found this in an antique shop in Berlin, Ohio (but did not buy it!).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A flower arranging volunteer in the room made for the same purpose at<br />
<a href="http://www.stanhywet.org/">Stan Hywet Hall and Gardens</a> in Akron, Ohio. Above this space,<br />
on the second story, is a commodious linen closet with cupboards and drawers.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last but not least, my friend Linda spotted a copy of my book on the upper shelf<br />
of the gift shop of <a href="http://www.stanhywet.org/">Stan Hywet Hall and Gardens</a>. I was glad to see it and <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/">they ordered more copies</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-32067924738534702052011-04-09T22:23:00.003-04:002011-07-22T20:50:25.617-04:00A Nice Nod to Pantries ~ and THE PANTRY<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6TpJlUn72I/Szug6jwqmvI/AAAAAAAADHs/B69zHC4WdL8/s1600/Green+Pantry+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6TpJlUn72I/Szug6jwqmvI/AAAAAAAADHs/B69zHC4WdL8/s400/Green+Pantry+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Catherine Seiberling Pond</td></tr>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/goog_1401362329">T</a></span><a href="http://catherinepond.com/html/order_the_pantry.html">he Pantry––Its History and Modern Uses</a></i> was mentioned (and quoted) in an article called <a href="http://www.oldhouseonline.com/tips-on-designing-a-pantry/">"Tips on Designing a Pantry"</a> in the Winter 2009 issue of <i>New Old Houses</i> [through the wonders of the internet, I am only now discovering this article as it was just posted <a href="http://www.oldhouseonline.com/tips-on-designing-a-pantry/">on line</a>]. You will find <a href="http://oldhouseonline.com/">OldHouseOnline.com</a> to be an invaluble resource for all of your old house questions.<br />
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Thank you for the informative tribute to pantries, Jennifer Sperry!Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-83677251005246945212011-02-14T14:20:00.000-05:002011-02-14T14:20:31.019-05:00Happy Valentine's Day from my Pantry to Yours! <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uAN-F3zH56E/TVl_EnVohgI/AAAAAAAADyo/n7vVuOm1P5g/s1600/can.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uAN-F3zH56E/TVl_EnVohgI/AAAAAAAADyo/n7vVuOm1P5g/s400/can.jpg" width="341" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqvE5SW6Y9o/TVl_BP6KM3I/AAAAAAAADyk/-dzWklu5xIc/s1600/cat2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqvE5SW6Y9o/TVl_BP6KM3I/AAAAAAAADyk/-dzWklu5xIc/s400/cat2.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">World War II era Valentine that I could not resist on eBay!</span> So I wanted to share with all of you, too.<br />
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Thanks for stopping by, as always, here in the pantry. I will continue to post on occasion here, with pantry-related tidbits, but you'll find me most of the time now at <i><a href="http://www.farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/">Farmwife at Midlife</a></i>.<br />
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Happy Valentine's Day!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Catherine</span></i></span>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-63641113262149504862011-01-01T13:15:00.029-05:002011-01-02T13:31:43.097-05:00Farmwife at Midlife<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TE3PssAr_OI/AAAAAAAADfc/-VZR5OG2T3U/s1600/IMG_0319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TE3PssAr_OI/AAAAAAAADfc/-VZR5OG2T3U/s400/IMG_0319.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Dear Friends In the Pantry,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It's official! I have a new <i><a href="http://www.farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/">blog</a></i> that I've been mulling over for the past few months and it's just been launched in 2011.</span> <i><a href="http://farmwifeatmidlife.blogspot.com/">Farmwife at Midlife</a></i> better reflects my life as it has evolved over the past few years, and yet will continue what I've enjoyed so much here <i>In the Pantry</i> (as I hope you have, too). I promise that it will only enlarge upon everything here in a very different format. Sometimes we just need a change and this one, like so many in my life, just feels right.<br />
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But don't worry, I'm not leaving <i>In the Pantry</i> behind. In fact, you'd be hard pressed to get me out of it! I will just be focusing on my new blog, and other ventures from our farm, including more freelance writing, and hope you will join me there.<br />
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I will still blog here on occasion, but with quite specific pantry-related references [and Carolyn MacDonald, I haven't forgotten you!], links and other information as it pertains to pantries or my book. Of course, you can still purchase signed copies of <i><a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/html/pantry_excerpt.html">The Pantry–Its History and Modern Uses</a></i> [Gibbs Smith: 2007] from my <a href="http://www.catherinepond.com/html/order_the_pantry.html">website</a>.<br />
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I wish you all good things in the year ahead!<br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Catherine</span></i>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-81165164229038624592010-12-31T12:48:00.005-05:002010-12-31T14:25:19.859-05:00Auld Acquaintance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4MwcMMqMI/AAAAAAAADmM/LsRVnRvOS54/s1600/Gnome+New+Year+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4MwcMMqMI/AAAAAAAADmM/LsRVnRvOS54/s400/Gnome+New+Year+2.jpg" width="252" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Perhaps you have often wondered where I've been this year. Well, I have, too. </span>It's been a busy one, full of many continued transitions, adjustments and a few minor blips on the radar. Nothing bad–just disconcerting at times and occasionally transformative. I realize it is the year, of the five of the <i>In the Pantry </i>blog, that I've written the least. It's not that I haven't wanted or intended to blog, it's just that some things–like real life–take precedence at times.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Books and gnomes––two of my favorite things.</i></td></tr>
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We have been busy on the farm and building more needed buildings, while increasing our cattle herd. I tried, for much of the year, to pursue several full-time writing-related jobs off of the farm. Several potentially ideal opportunities were presented to me but none came of anything. What did happen, after six months of pursuit and follow-up, is that I realized, for now, that I'm supposed to stay in my own back yard. And I'm meant to write, right here. I've been publishing, too: several articles this year. It's never all for naught, just remember that!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4SWqUpeNI/AAAAAAAADmY/CUYt9wa_uBk/s1600/IMG_0866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4SWqUpeNI/AAAAAAAADmY/CUYt9wa_uBk/s400/IMG_0866.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I've been told these gnomes are really creepy, perhaps even inebriated.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4S-9GBNBI/AAAAAAAADmc/cluY2PU01LE/s1600/IMG_0947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4S-9GBNBI/AAAAAAAADmc/cluY2PU01LE/s200/IMG_0947.JPG" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A favorite gnome from a dear friend.</i></td></tr>
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So, 2011 will begin with a new and renewed focus. I'm going to be launching a new blog in the coming weeks, one that better reflects my life as it is now. When I started <i>In the Pantry</i> I was living in an 1803 Federal mansion, filled with family heirlooms and layers of history. We were in the midst of a Currier and Ives New England village setting. I was writing my first book. Our daughter was a teenager and our boys were eight and five! Visions of a farm of our own were dancing in our heads with various scenarios and outcomes. I have often shared those here and will continue to do so in the new format.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our hen house on Christmas morning––of course we were up before dawn!</i></td></tr>
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Fast forward and here we are, five years later, on a farm on a ridge in Kentucky. Now we have land spreading out so far and wide, we have stuff in storage and we live in a comfortable doublewide. We raise much of our own food or buy it from local farmers. While there is much I often think about or miss in New England, we are blessed!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4VBdHIQOI/AAAAAAAADmg/6s0vJYyDKD0/s1600/IMG_0975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4VBdHIQOI/AAAAAAAADmg/6s0vJYyDKD0/s320/IMG_0975.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My husband's birthday "Robert E. Lee" cake.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I promise that my new blog will be integrating the essence of <i>In the Pantry</i> that you enjoy, while also adding other "bits and pieces" of my life [thank you, Katherine Mansfield for forever imbedding that quote in my mind]. I will also still post here on occasion, especially if it is pantry-related, or <i>The Pantry</i> book-related. [And copies of the book are still available from my website at <a href="http://catherinepond.com/">CatherinePond.com</a>]<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4VfSgpnQI/AAAAAAAADmk/HXCZWrHrg7A/s1600/IMG_0950.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="193" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4VfSgpnQI/AAAAAAAADmk/HXCZWrHrg7A/s400/IMG_0950.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our annual pudding of York! [Yes, that's its real color: from our own eggs!]</i></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4tp4FRKJI/AAAAAAAADmw/rBNaFeWisA8/s1600/1148610.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TR4tp4FRKJI/AAAAAAAADmw/rBNaFeWisA8/s200/1148610.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>I am also looking forward to starting my 11-year journal tomorrow! I just ordered a <i>10+ Journal</i> from <a href="http://www.lehmans.com/store/Clearance___Books_and_Calendars___10_Year_Journal___1148610?Args=">Lehman's (on sale!)</a> and it chronicles 11 years (A decade plus) in small format on one page per date (with eleven entries: one for each year's date, in five lines or less). So you can track, in Twitter-like brevity (or let's make that more like haiku-style notation, as I will never be a Twitterer!), the events of your life, day by day: or the weather, or your diet, or highlights in your family. I used to keep many extensive hand-written journals, many years ago, but this will be a short chronicle. I'm looking forward to the exercise and the meditation of it, while the blogs will continue to be my postcards to the world.<br />
<br />
I wish you a very happy, healthy and special New Year and thank you for visiting here all of these years! I'm not going anywhere, I'm just shape-shifting a bit. Stay tuned for an announcement of the new blog in the weeks ahead.<br />
<br />
My very best wishes to you and yours,<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Catherine</span></i>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-86327933146578179642010-12-02T14:01:00.006-05:002010-12-02T14:32:58.641-05:00"Snow Sifting Down"<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPfpzDfZZvI/AAAAAAAADkM/J7HPqTcbZSw/s1600/IMG_1781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPfpzDfZZvI/AAAAAAAADkM/J7HPqTcbZSw/s400/IMG_1781.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Snow on the ridge ~ a few winters ago.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Today there are flurries on the ridge and a scurry of activity inside, too. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yesterday it was snowing starlings: thousands of them, in great whirls of blackness and clatter. I am reminded every year at this time of our </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://inthepantry.blogspot.com/2008/12/lucy-august-26-1996-december-3-2008.html">dear Lucy</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, who the starlings seemed to lift heavenwards in the days after she died on December 3rd.</span><br />
<div class="yiv605575806author"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="yiv605575806author"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It is December, the darkest month of the year and yet a time of shining light within our hearts, within ourselves and our families, too. Let there be light and peace on Earth (please?)!</span></span></div><div class="yiv605575806author"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="yiv605575806author"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I just wanted to share this beautiful poem which arrived in my inbox today, as they do, every day, from <i><a href="http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/">The Writer's Almanac</a></i> with Garrison Keillor: a most wonderful compendium of literary tidbits and poetry.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"><b>Manna</b></span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Everywhere, everywhere, snow sifting down</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">a world becoming white, no more sounds, </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><blockquote>no longer possible to find the heart of the day,</blockquote><blockquote>the sun is gone, the sky is nowhere, and of all</blockquote><blockquote>I wanted in life – so be it – whatever it is</blockquote><blockquote>that brought me here, chance, fortune, whatever</blockquote><blockquote>blessing each flake of snow is the hint of, I am</blockquote><blockquote>grateful, I bear witness, I hold out my arms,</blockquote><blockquote>palms up, I know it is impossible to hold</blockquote><blockquote>for long what we love of the world, but look</blockquote><blockquote>at me, is it foolish, shameful, arrogant to say this,</blockquote><blockquote>see how the snow drifts down, look how happy</blockquote><blockquote>I am.</blockquote></span><br />
<div class="yiv605575806author"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Manna" by Joseph Stroud, from </span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of This World</span></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. © </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Copper Canyon Press, 2009. </span></span></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-14934276032768038352010-11-28T11:31:00.001-05:002010-11-27T23:52:32.803-05:00How to "Pie Up!" in the Pantry<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPHYWsBbz_I/AAAAAAAADkI/_GaZYiZgXsE/s1600/jitcrunch.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPHYWsBbz_I/AAAAAAAADkI/_GaZYiZgXsE/s320/jitcrunch.jpeg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From my vintage postcard collection.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yesterday I cooked another large second turkey, just because it was at the bottom of the freezer. </span>Time to "pantry up," as my friend Edie recently said (and "freezer up," too). Throughout the busy week ahead the juicy 25+ free ranger, from an Amish farm last winter, will be transformed into turkey salad, turkey soup, turkey pie, creamed turkey and sandwiches. [One reason is because I have an article deadline on December 1st and many book orders to process].<br />
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Today I'll be making turkey tetrazzini, with roasted beets and parsnips on the side and more rhubarb and pumpkin pies. We're having our Mennonite friends Melvin and Anna Hurst over for a Sunday supper of "leftovers" (well, not really, but that was the premise) later this afternoon and I'm looking forward to a nice leisurely "catch up" as I haven't seen either of them in a month. I'd even intended to host a "leftover" potluck for friends last night but it just never materialized.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGAA7N1JQI/AAAAAAAADjU/-Vuj-ma5PKM/s1600/IMG_0312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGAA7N1JQI/AAAAAAAADjU/-Vuj-ma5PKM/s320/IMG_0312.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">As for food this Thanksgiving, back to our "simplicity" kick. I didn't make homemade cranberry sauce this year, or homemade rolls, or even cranberry nut bread. But the stuffing was arguably my best yet––from a recipe I came up with in college that I've been tweaking for the past 30 years. This year I added dried cherries and chopped pecans, as well as the Italian sausage, chopped apples and fresh cranberries that I have always included.<br />
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<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPHWEOnhjKI/AAAAAAAADkA/VZRyyRa4FVg/s1600/000_994_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPHWEOnhjKI/AAAAAAAADkA/VZRyyRa4FVg/s200/000_994_large.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© <a href="http://www.annetaintor.com/">Anne Taintor, Inc.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>But we also had <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">P I E</span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">!</span></span></i> <u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Homemade</span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">!</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">By </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">me</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">!</span> I say this so enthusiastically, and with great unabashed pride in my heart, because I've always had pie phobia–big time. The fillings are never the problem, it's the crust. Usually it is the one thing I ask guests to bring at Thanksgiving: dessert (and dessert at Thanksgiving usually equals pie). A few weeks ago my friend Rosemary back in New Hampshire sent me a pie dough recipe she had tweaked from Joanne Chang's <a href="http://flourbakery.com/">Flour Bakery</a> in Boston. It was the best pie dough, and easiest, I've made yet. If it sounds like there is a lot of butter, there is: but you're worth it (Rosemary also added a few more tablespoons to the original recipe). Rosemary, I should also add, was the frequent pie lady at our house (as well as my friend Linda, but I don't want to start a pie war between these two friends!).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF_BttujvI/AAAAAAAADjM/_R7xneOttn4/s1600/IMG_0362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF_BttujvI/AAAAAAAADjM/_R7xneOttn4/s320/IMG_0362.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhubarb pie awaits baking on Thanksgiving morning.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Rosemary's Second Amazing(ly Simple) Pie Dough</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">[Here is her first recipe: <a href="http://inthepantry.blogspot.com/2007/06/perfect-pie-day.html">click here</a> for blog archive!]</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">• 1 cup flour</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">• 1/2 tsp salt</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">• 10 Tbsps <i>cold</i> butter</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">• 1 egg yolk</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">• 2 Tbsps milk</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGA-yA4bQI/AAAAAAAADjc/yAZfDLi5ff8/s1600/IMG_0302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGA-yA4bQI/AAAAAAAADjc/yAZfDLi5ff8/s200/IMG_0302.JPG" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eli loves to help.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Put flour and salt into food processor, with blade (I used my plastic blade). Add <i>cold</i> butter, one tablespoon at a time, while pulsing. I combined the egg yolk and milk in a bowl and beat it quickly before adding to the flour-butter mixture in the food processor. Pulse all ingredients a few times until mixed and turn out onto floured board. Knead and flip several times and press with the back of your palm. (Rosemary said this is called "fraisaging" the dough–rhymes with "massage" and that's exactly what you are doing.) Then pat into a disk, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and chill for at least an hour. The chilling is absolutely essential for ease of roll and a resulting flaky crust. [I doubled this for a 2-crust dough and you can also freeze your disks of dough for another day.]</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF8iBEyydI/AAAAAAAADi4/H6KbSaKgyqQ/s1600/IMG_0399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF8iBEyydI/AAAAAAAADi4/H6KbSaKgyqQ/s200/IMG_0399.JPG" width="140" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A perfect pie trifecta!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>When sufficiently chilled, roll out dough disk on a floured board to the desired size. You will find, having chilled it, that it will roll very nicely and should feel all satiny to the touch. After it bakes, your pie will have the flakiest, melt-in-your mouth flavor and texture. I can't wait to try it with turkey pot pie later this week! As much as I like <a href="http://inthepantry.blogspot.com/2007/06/perfect-pie-day.html">Rosemary's other pie recipe</a>, I might just be a convert to this one.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF7_1b89LI/AAAAAAAADi0/YIfP2NStVdM/s1600/IMG_0322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF7_1b89LI/AAAAAAAADi0/YIfP2NStVdM/s400/IMG_0322.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie is akin to sacrilege.</td></tr>
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</div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-40886514661392239402010-11-27T19:30:00.013-05:002010-11-27T20:45:32.033-05:00The Afterglow<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF-X2xLltI/AAAAAAAADjI/XHKGoS_Xg9E/s1600/IMG_0372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF-X2xLltI/AAAAAAAADjI/XHKGoS_Xg9E/s320/IMG_0372.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A locally-made wooden painted turkey kit from nearby Bear Wallow Farm and a lovely pumpkin from Casey County, just a bit nibbled on by our chickens. The kit would be an easy thing to make with your children if you are crafty. (Alas, I am not.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here's what I love about Thanksgiving–it just extends into a nice, long weekend of leftovers and doing whatever it is that we want to do.</span> Like hunker in on our ridge: playing games, watching old movies and family programs on television, chopping wood, general puttering around. Thanksgiving remains my favorite holiday, even though this year it was just our immediate family (minus our daughter, for the third year in a row, who works at a ski resort back in Vermont where the holidays are a blur of accommodating skiers and their families). Our boys even had an entire week off from school, which we appreciated, even though we didn't travel anywhere. [And who wants to these days?]<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGB1YeD64I/AAAAAAAADjo/zrzlH2TI62o/s1600/IMG_0089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGB1YeD64I/AAAAAAAADjo/zrzlH2TI62o/s320/IMG_0089.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">This little fellow has the right idea after a hearty bowl of slop.</span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGBm_f9VVI/AAAAAAAADjk/jN9KvGWNuw8/s1600/IMG_0167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGBm_f9VVI/AAAAAAAADjk/jN9KvGWNuw8/s320/IMG_0167.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry chops pumpkins for the pigs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We were thinking of going to the Liberty Christmas parade last night, and to the Clementsville Variety Show later on today (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">MC</span>ed this year by our friend Joberta Wells: and <a href="http://www.caseynews.net/content/judge-judy-hoot">check out her new blog </a>at <i>The Casey County News</i> where she is a columnist–she is our local "hoot" and deservedly so, as well as having coined the phrase). We were even going to see the new Harry Potter movie (which would be Henry's second time in a week). But we're not.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGBHTknkzI/AAAAAAAADjg/xUWs_omL_Lk/s1600/IMG_0233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGBHTknkzI/AAAAAAAADjg/xUWs_omL_Lk/s320/IMG_0233.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A late fall bull calf, born just before Thanksgiving on our farm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF7bqLiLqI/AAAAAAAADis/dkEniA5rRHw/s1600/IMG_0330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF7bqLiLqI/AAAAAAAADis/dkEniA5rRHw/s200/IMG_0330.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Instead, our entertainment over the past few days has consisted of moving some cattle (including some of the neighbor's that had escaped). We watched our great friend, Chuckie Willard, back in New Hampshire, and the coverage of his trebuchet-building for Science Channel's <i><a href="http://science.discovery.com/videos/road-to-punkin-chunkin-2010/">On the Road to Punkin Chunkin</a> </i>[on the link, click on the "Tired Iron" video]. We also watched <i><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/goog_1229774375">The Fabulous </a><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/goog_1229774375">Beekman</a><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/goog_1229774375"> Boys</a></i><a href="http://www.beekman1802.com/"> </a>first-season marathon on Planet Green (what a joy they are, and their animals, friends and Farmer John, who lives on the premises, and we can't wait for their Christmas special on December 8–on so many levels this is a worthwhile new reality series). Oh, yes: my husband's favorite actress of all time, Marjorie Main, had several feature movies on <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">TCM</span> this week, too. And who can not watch the annual reshowing of <i>The Wizard of Oz</i>? I still cry each time that Dorothy goes home again and it is delightful to experience this movie with our own children.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF9gMUJVRI/AAAAAAAADjA/p5vzqFMceRI/s1600/IMG_0390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF9gMUJVRI/AAAAAAAADjA/p5vzqFMceRI/s320/IMG_0390.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A daily reminder on my mantel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF9_Hz7DDI/AAAAAAAADjE/N_pSDakdIu4/s1600/IMG_0379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF9_Hz7DDI/AAAAAAAADjE/N_pSDakdIu4/s200/IMG_0379.JPG" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our wine glasses!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This year our holiday mantra will continue to be "simplify." Our Thanksgiving set the tone for that: we were all clean and well-scrubbed but changed into our comfortable pajamas after feeding the animals on the farm. Our boys wanted a "Jammy Thanksgiving" and they got it. If you are not entertaining anyone but yourselves, I highly recommend it! I didn't even pull out all of the decorative stops that I usually do. And we used paper towels for napkins! (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">OK</span>, so I haven't ironed in a while.)<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGgsggLhjI/AAAAAAAADj4/fG0O1z9H1AA/s1600/IMG_0142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGgsggLhjI/AAAAAAAADj4/fG0O1z9H1AA/s320/IMG_0142.JPG" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of my "Country Fare" in the hutch in NH.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We did pull out our silver and paired it with our Country Fare–my favorite every day pottery, made by Zanesville Pottery from the 1940s-60s (eventually bought out by Louisville Stoneware in Kentucky). Who knew one day that I–an Ohio girl, born and bred, raised in New England–would eventually be living in the state that adopted my favorite Ohio pottery?! Those are our farmer friends Peter Sawyer and Eric Tenney in our kitchen in Hancock in early December 2007, when we had another Thanksgiving dinner all over again, but our last in New Hampshire. [Our dear bull mastiff, Lucy, is curled up for a nap: she passed away here in Kentucky almost two years ago now.]<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGmw3vN0kI/AAAAAAAADj8/Wh-OTwPfB08/s1600/IMG_0246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGmw3vN0kI/AAAAAAAADj8/Wh-OTwPfB08/s320/IMG_0246.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John, Tom and Patch in January 2009. Today was their second birthday (but Patch disappeared when he was six months). This is my favorite photo of them altogether, on my favorite chair.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF6N7Avq5I/AAAAAAAADik/ZSOCxSsnxmc/s1600/IMG_0356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF6N7Avq5I/AAAAAAAADik/ZSOCxSsnxmc/s320/IMG_0356.JPG" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our former Hancock home in a Wallace Nutting print.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Thanksgiving is time to give pause to our many blessings, the love of each other, and memories of holidays past. I'm glad that I am at a point in my life now where I can remember the magical holidays of childhood and beyond without a full immersion of bittersweet sorrow, or even a tinge of it–where I can be in a memory or a feeling or a place in my mind and linger there, a bit, but not dwell too much in what has past. It's not always an easy thing for me. ["Dwell, Stew, Obsess!" in the words of cartoonist Roz Chast.]<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGN1IdGXjI/AAAAAAAADjw/1gyOuqKIxR8/s1600/Cold_Courbold.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGN1IdGXjI/AAAAAAAADjw/1gyOuqKIxR8/s320/Cold_Courbold.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edward Henry Corbould (1869), <i>Cold</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>I know why the holidays can be the hardest time of year for some people: I have been in that place. I now embrace the winter months like a warm, cozy throw. It is admittedly less wintry here in Kentucky but still just as dark, cold and bleak as any mild winter we have experienced in New Hampshire. Winter is now something I am happy to put on and to wear, like a shroud, as I tuck in for a few months of reflection and repurposing. It's a necessary system reboot for the soul.<br />
<br />
What Sting said so poetically about the winter season of darkness in his <a href="http://www.sting.com/news/news.php?uid=6286">notes</a> for his beautiful album, <i>If On a Winter's Night, </i>captures what I feel about winter now:<br />
<blockquote><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGPq4EfM9I/AAAAAAAADj0/Dw784qVyERg/s1600/6a00d8341c69f653ef0133f212ff3a970b-320wi.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPGPq4EfM9I/AAAAAAAADj0/Dw784qVyERg/s200/6a00d8341c69f653ef0133f212ff3a970b-320wi.jpeg" width="158" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Peter Ilsted (1861-1933), <i>Woman Reading by Candlelight</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><i>Walking amid the snows of Winter, or sitting entranced in a darkened room gazing at the firelight, usually evokes in me a mood of reflection, a mood that can be at times philosophical, at others wildly irrational; I find myself haunted by memories. For Winter is the season of ghosts; and ghosts, if they can be said to reside anywhere, reside here in this season of frosts and in these long hours of darkness. We must treat with them calmly and civilly, before the snows melt, and the cycle of the seasons begins once more. </i></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A Footnote:</span></b></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF60hGr-II/AAAAAAAADio/zkqzTXwKRUs/s1600/IMG_0347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF60hGr-II/AAAAAAAADio/zkqzTXwKRUs/s320/IMG_0347.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF_dZ-NbtI/AAAAAAAADjQ/UoAiXWZDZGo/s1600/IMG_0336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TPF_dZ-NbtI/AAAAAAAADjQ/UoAiXWZDZGo/s320/IMG_0336.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Seeing the credits roll past at the end of <i>On the Road to Punkin Chunkin</i>, we realized it was Chucky's tractor trailer driving out of town, east on Main Street in Hancock where we used to live in New Hampshire. But seeing it, in such a blur, we were able to stop the frames with the slow motion feature of TeVo, and there was our old house, in the top photo (at left, with the brick end). A strange encounter, indeed. The whirring of the sped up film also reminded me of how I process memory: that it flies through me in a blur and then it is gone again, like the wind. But where does it go?</span></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-5236598327709620162010-11-24T13:01:00.007-05:002010-11-24T13:53:31.387-05:00Happy Thanksgiving!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TO1bYF5A4mI/AAAAAAAADic/09gloSKAwho/s1600/8020-1586-thickbox_2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TO1bYF5A4mI/AAAAAAAADic/09gloSKAwho/s400/8020-1586-thickbox_2.jpeg" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours ~ may your blessings and gratitude be in abundance and your hearts and kitchens filled with family and friends ~ and good things to eat!</span></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><br />
</span></span></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TO1QOlMxZPI/AAAAAAAADiI/0M501Ead1z4/s1600/IMG_0074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TO1QOlMxZPI/AAAAAAAADiI/0M501Ead1z4/s400/IMG_0074.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our boys, now 13 and 10 1/2, and my husband, happy on our farm. The only thing missing is daughter Addie, working hard back in New England--we love and miss you! </i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
We are having a PJ Thanksgiving this year: all the food and fixins and best silver (not polished in a while, however!) but in our comfortable pajamas (a good call, too, because our boys have bad chest colds). Really the opposite of what we've done for so many years and a fun change this year as we hunker in from the raw stormy weather after an eventful year and fall. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i></i></span>I am sorry not to have been posting regularly. If you troll through the archives at this time for the past five years you can read about Thanksgivings Past in the Pond home or search on any number of ingredients for recipes: I highly recommend Rosemary's pie dough and I'm about to make a rhubarb pie with her crust.<br />
<br />
If you've ordered a copy of <i>The Pantry</i> it will be on its way to you very soon and I appreciate your patience. And, a reminder that they make wonderful holiday gifts: I am happy to inscribe them and ship them to anyone on your gift list.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TO1aRuNK3SI/AAAAAAAADiQ/NOI2-VbbW6k/s1600/8106-1715-thickbox.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TO1aRuNK3SI/AAAAAAAADiQ/NOI2-VbbW6k/s400/8106-1715-thickbox.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As always, thank you so much for stopping by here in <i>The Pantry</i> and reading along with me for the past five years. There are changes to come, but all good ones.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are blessed and so very grateful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Catherine</span></span></i></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-16609369602119622992010-10-08T16:33:00.008-04:002010-10-08T17:01:09.860-04:00October<div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TK9-4SlD1nI/AAAAAAAADg0/4TIw2gD2b-k/s1600/IMG_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TK9-4SlD1nI/AAAAAAAADg0/4TIw2gD2b-k/s400/IMG_0711.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our creek pasture in the fading late afternoon October light.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TK9_OfzsuBI/AAAAAAAADg4/VmxfEr_-2TE/s1600/IMG_6570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TK9_OfzsuBI/AAAAAAAADg4/VmxfEr_-2TE/s200/IMG_6570.JPG" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Concord grapes in NH.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;">O hushed October morning mild, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;">Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; </span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild, </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Should waste them all. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The crows above the forest call; </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tomorrow they may form and go. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">O hushed October morning mild, </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Begin the hours of this day slow. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Make the day seem to us less brief. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hearts not averse to being beguiled, </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Beguile us in the way you know. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Release one leaf at break of day; </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At noon release another leaf; </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One from our trees, one far away. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Retard the sun with gentle mist; </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Enchant the land with amethyst. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Slow, slow! </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the grapes' sake, if they were all, </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Whose leaves already are burnt with frost, </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Whose clustered fruit must else be lost-- </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the grapes' sake along the wall. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #333333; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">~</span> <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Robert Frost</span></i></span></span></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-65486713344044721702010-10-06T12:32:00.001-04:002010-10-06T12:33:36.044-04:00Coming Soon to a Ridge Near You!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TKykT8kFiuI/AAAAAAAADgw/aFAdCZ93IUk/s1600/Chick-a-Biddy+Cottage+Sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TKykT8kFiuI/AAAAAAAADgw/aFAdCZ93IUk/s400/Chick-a-Biddy+Cottage+Sign.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-92118035371143440272010-10-04T19:15:00.005-04:002010-10-04T23:30:38.278-04:00The Things He Carries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TKpd3QIzIFI/AAAAAAAADgo/03sMOpYfi9Y/s1600/IMG_0817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TKpd3QIzIFI/AAAAAAAADgo/03sMOpYfi9Y/s400/IMG_0817.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><i><b>One of the things I love about doing laundry is discovering what is in my sons' pockets. </b></i>Unlike my husband, they tend to forget to empty their pockets before tossing their stuff in the laundry room (perhaps this is a learned behavior only when one does their own laundry?). Eli, in particular, is a pack rat (like his mother) and thinks nothing of cramming in his pocket a few pebbles (he is an avid rock collector) or recent fortunes from a Chinese restaurant dinner. He is also sentimental and I suppose that tweaks a few extra heart strings in me. Just as long as he doesn't become a hoarder, like his mother!<br />
<br />
Little boys are so different than little girls. It's trite and stereotypical, but true enough.<br />
<br />
Pebbles and pocket knives and keys to the tractor: that's what little farm boys are made of.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TKpfj7bKQ8I/AAAAAAAADgs/2Wz1IbDyVNk/s1600/IMG_0818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TKpfj7bKQ8I/AAAAAAAADgs/2Wz1IbDyVNk/s400/IMG_0818.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our son is also an "old soul" who appreciates the the wisdom of his elders––on occasion!</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-92124303427045898202010-09-22T23:36:00.005-04:002010-09-23T00:06:50.550-04:00Harvest Home<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"></div><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrP3Eg4j6I/AAAAAAAADgc/wqiWWwML-4s/s1600/IMG_0559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrP3Eg4j6I/AAAAAAAADgc/wqiWWwML-4s/s320/IMG_0559.JPG" width="268" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">I've never been so glad to see the summer end. </span>It's not that I don't enjoy summer, it's just that it is prolonged here in Kentucky and sometimes unbearably hot. By early August you're done already! Fall and spring are lovely, and also long, and you enjoy going outside whenever possible. [We have four seasons here, which I am glad about, and this reshifting of what we're used to having back in the northeast for seasonal duration also provides us with a much shorter winter in Kentucky.] Today was in the 90s, but it's a dry heat and a cold front this weekend will bring more seasonable nights and days again. Despite the lingering heat, fall has arrived in the landscape and in the air. IMAGE: <i>The last of the summer watermelon, along with an assortment of knobbly pumpkins and giant cushaws at our local Casey County Produce Auction.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Usually I get a bit melancholy with the earlier darkness, the shorter days and the cooler weather. Or saddened to see the Big Dipper start to drop down into the starry night of the northern skies by late August. Not any more. This year, summer's end is like a welcome balm. I am glad to see pumpkins and squash, crisp apples, withering cornstalks. I continue to can great quantities of things from summer's bounty. </span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrQbxQBqVI/AAAAAAAADgg/NAwZOMUB2_E/s400/IMG_0298.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This was the sunset exactly a month ago, on August 22, 2010, with a tinge of fall in it. I love to watch the changing big skies throughout the seasons here in Kentucky. This is the view from my office window looking up towards the knob.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrQbxQBqVI/AAAAAAAADgg/NAwZOMUB2_E/s1600/IMG_0298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><span style="font-size: small;">We have already enjoyed some cooler nights. I look forward to quiet time spent knitting, reading, and long hours working on new writing projects and other lingering tasks. I like a reason to be indoors and yet, here in winter, it is often possible to be outside, too. It will be great to go out walking again without misery.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="166" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrQ0IvJPwI/AAAAAAAADgk/ZZ5lYR_L7XQ/s400/IMG_0518.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="color: #b45f06; text-align: center;"><i><b>Come, ye thankful people, come, raise the song of harvest home;<br />
All is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin.<br />
God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied;<br />
Come to God’s own temple, come, raise the song of harvest home.</b></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrQ0IvJPwI/AAAAAAAADgk/ZZ5lYR_L7XQ/s1600/IMG_0518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In the coming weeks and months I will try to blog more, too, and have some photos and other things to share along the way. Thank you, as always, for stopping by here in the pantry!</span><i><br />
</i><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrC0mdUvfI/AAAAAAAADgI/hBU6OZFl27A/s400/IMG_0766.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>As the sun set on summer for the last time in 2010, the Harvest Moon was rising to the east over a distant storm front. Both photographs were shot around moon rise/sun set at 7:15pm on September 22, 2010 from the top of our knob on the farm.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrDVw22ZQI/AAAAAAAADgM/ggLZ6_pViig/s400/IMG_0753.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My son Henry and I had supper together on a rare after school time to ourselves. At dusk we went to the top of the knob to watch the Harvest Moon rise and the sun set on summer 2010. Today is the first day of Autumn ~ one of my favorite words in the English language (next to "summer afternoon" and "crisp" and "luscious," of course).</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrEGwza_FI/AAAAAAAADgQ/zbt-FBi-j30/s400/IMG_0793.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Meet Woodrow. Bull about town. He's a ladies' man who knows what he likes. Prefers green pastures and strong women. Not into the dating scene or even monogamy and wants to get right down to business. Loves children. Surprisingly sweet, too (but you can never turn your back on a bull!).</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrEykYyY2I/AAAAAAAADgU/otCmYbgW6TI/s400/IMG_0801.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our first eight Angus calves, here with some of their mamas: born from early May to early August. This is our "Long Field" where they will spend much of their autumn days munching on Kentucky grasses.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrEykYyY2I/AAAAAAAADgU/otCmYbgW6TI/s1600/IMG_0801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrCUm8oQmI/AAAAAAAADgE/Y4aRoV4e5C4/s400/IMG_0744.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Farewell to the summer!</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TJrCUm8oQmI/AAAAAAAADgE/Y4aRoV4e5C4/s1600/IMG_0744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-53783334178022868722010-09-13T12:04:00.008-04:002010-09-13T12:35:52.213-04:00Try to Remember<div style="-moz-border-radius: 4px; -webkit-border-radius: 4px; background: #fff; border-bottom: #C0CFE0 1px solid; clear: both; color: #2f363b; margin: 5px 0; position: relative; width: 290px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/SxP_CfCJXCI/AAAAAAAADAk/_FIXyRKGW2k/s1600/IMG_0144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/SxP_CfCJXCI/AAAAAAAADAk/_FIXyRKGW2k/s400/IMG_0144.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>Our Valley View Farm from the top of our knob.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">This song, sung by Patti Page and written for the musical, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The Fantasicks</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> (1959), has always prompted a nostalgic longing for me, even when I was barely verbal and first heard it on my parents hi-fi in our Akron living room in the early 1960s. What thoughts or memories does it conjure for you?</span><br />
<br />
<div style="-moz-border-radius: 4px; -webkit-border-radius: 4px; background: #fff; border-bottom: #C0CFE0 1px solid; clear: both; color: #2f363b; margin: 5px 0; position: relative; width: 290px;"><div style="border-bottom: #5a84ae 1px solid; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1em; margin: 1px 4px; padding: 4px 0 2px 2px;">Try to remember – <span style="color: #5a84ae;">Patti Page</span></div><br />
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<br />
<div style="margin: 2px 0; padding: 2px 0 0; position: relative;"></div><br />
<object data="http://www.mp3hunting.com/player/player_mp3.swf" height="20" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="200"></p><p></p><p><param name="movie" value="http://www.mp3hunting.com/player/player_mp3.swf" /></p><p></p><p><param name="FlashVars" value="mp3=http://www.mp3hunting.com/listen.php?track=-6177343822238816445" /></p><p></object><br />
<br />
<a class="logo-link" href="http://www.mp3hunting.com/" style="background: transparent url(http://www.mp3hunting.com/player/mp3hunting.gif) no-repeat 0 0; bottom: 2px; display: block; font-size: 1%; height: 20px; position: absolute; right: 6px; text-decoration: none; text-indent: -9999em; width: 77px;" title="www.MP3hunting.com">MP3 search on MP3hunting </a></div><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">And a Happy 100th to RMG ~ wherever you are!</span></i><br />
<div><br />
</div></div>Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-61837833944044565822010-09-11T13:52:00.008-04:002010-09-11T15:23:40.906-04:00Reclamation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TIu9UIi21yI/AAAAAAAADfw/9oUpoqTASEc/s1600/IMG_3318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TIu9UIi21yI/AAAAAAAADfw/9oUpoqTASEc/s320/IMG_3318.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes I land upright and realize, yes, that's it, it's been this way all along.</span> Perhaps it was there all the time but I wasn't seeing and I wasn't listening. Rather than have that "ruthlessness to rest," as my great-grandmother used to write to her children (here "rest" as in "pause"), I have had a wanderlust for many months.<br />
<br />
The Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts" speaks to this necessity to pause right where we are: "Till by turning, turning we come round right." That's exactly what I've done these past few months: whirling and twirling and now fortunate to have landed on my feet again, but glad for having had the journey.<br />
<br />
<dl><dd>
<dl><dd><i>'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free, </i>
<dl><dd><i>'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,</i></dd></dl></dd><dd><i>And when we find ourselves in the place just right, </i><br />
<dl><dd><i>'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.</i></dd></dl></dd><dd><i>When true simplicity is gain'd, </i><br />
<dl><dd><i>To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,</i></dd></dl></dd><dd><i>To turn, turn will be our delight, </i><br />
<dl><dd><i>Till by turning, turning we come round right.</i></dd></dl></dd></dl></dd></dl><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TIu7aLU8G-I/AAAAAAAADfs/Qb1Z9PtIQFY/s1600/SimpleGifts.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TIu7aLU8G-I/AAAAAAAADfs/Qb1Z9PtIQFY/s400/SimpleGifts.png" width="400" /></a></div>In the past six months I have been presented with several job opportunities, all from my own searching but each one, in its own way, something I feel I have been qualified to do and to do well. Problem is, I sense, with an especially tough job market now, that options are limited for writers or historians and certainly more competitive. I made the deliberate choice when my last job was downsized in 1997–– from site manager of an historic museum house to a part-time docent: I chose "I don't think so"––that it was time to have more children. We had been married not even a year and I was thirty-three, my husband forty-one. Our two boys were born within two-and-a-half years. ["The heir and the spare," as it is often referred to in jolly old primogenitured England.] I had our daughter in my mid-20s but that's another long and wonderful story.<br />
<br />
My point is that well-educated little old me, who had worked hard at developing her career in historic preservation, public relations and freelance writing, felt it was important to be at home with her children. I had been reared in the "you can have everything you want" school: career, husband, children. But I knew better and I knew myself better than that: I have believed, for some time, that you can have everything you want, within reason, but certainly not all at the same time. If someone tells you otherwise, they are fooling themselves: their house-of-cards has to give somewhere (or they have a lot of hired help).<br />
<br />
So I was able to be a stay-at-home mother and I hope it has served my children well (although perfectly organized, crafty and polished mother, I am not). Then we moved here several years ago, over the span of a year, and life has been busy and hectic and still not quite settled. We still have things in boxes and our real estate situation has more settling out to do yet. As my husband stretches out into the farm that we are creating, I'm often running around like some of my hens, cackling and scratching and generally in a twirl. He is project-based and linear where I am circular: he moves from A. to B. with great finesse, while I am dabbling in G., thinking about finishing A. and pondering X., Y. and Z. Occasionally I screech or peck at those around me, but I've been able to keep that to a dull roar. And, I've kept writing in some form, still selling the occasional magazine or newspaper article or copy of <i>The Pantry </i>from my home coffers<i> </i>(thank you all, for that!).<br />
<br />
With each potential job opportunity there has been this expectation: what would the job bring in terms of challenges and income and benefits? How would it change our lives? But each job, as great it has been on paper, and as polished as I've been on paper, has not even led to an interview. This has been a bit discouraging, and also quite humbling. It has also been illuminating because I realize, finally, that I am meant to remain at home for the foreseeable future, perhaps consulting or working away from the ridge when the right opportunity may present itself, but not now. A few weeks ago when I realized this, I received a hearty check for a forthcoming article and some press-related queries on <i>The Pantry</i>. Around the same time I found some amazing writings from my grandmother, in an old college trunk of mine, some of which seemed to speak right to me [she was also a farm wife and a published magazine writer––and we share a focus issue, too]. The Universe was speaking to me and with a big, LOUD BANG!<br />
<br />
So what am I going to do with all of this newly allowed "free" time, you may be asking? Well, I've given myself permission to write the stuff I want to write, to try to sell more articles and books. To blog more. To can food for winter and organize our house while we transition some more on the ridge. To be a more organized wife and mother. To start tackling a family archives project at last: for myself, for my extended family, for posterity. To walk again now that the hot summer is behind us and glorious warm fall days are here. To be more present with my family and have no regrets about what I'm <i>not</i> doing in the world, but to better focus on what I am doing. To be right where I am, "where I ought to be."<br />
<br />
I've felt a bit like Dorothy in the past few months: looking for a different scenario than the one in my own back yard. Not only did I try so hard to get the right job that sometimes things backfired on me, despite my own efforts: like the time I was a "strong contender" last spring for a publications manager position, but they never received several key emails from me that would have weaned out the group to be interviewed. [I found this out two months after I first applied, when I had the guts to inquire as to what was going on: I have never had "dropped" emails before in my life, at least for something so significant!] There are other stories, some humorous, some pathetic: like when I virtually begged a headhunter (excuse me, a "Culture Catalyst"–don't ask) to convince the ad agency to let me write them some sample copy. I think that guy went running, and fast, leaving me a mere quip: "The agency is no longer in a particular urgency to hire at this time."<br />
<br />
Finally, my own personal catalyst for this recent epiphany was this email response, when I inquired as to my status, after spending eight hours about a month ago crafting the pitch-perfect college development letter as another test of my writing abilities: <i><span style="font-size: small;">"Thank you for your inquiry. We are in the interviewing stage for the position now but will bring in additional candidates as necessary. We hope to have some resolution to this search soon and will be informing all candidates of our decision."</span> </i>Perhaps I am reading too much into this but my gut says that, in other words: <i>"You are way overqualified for this position (you nitwit), you will probably want a lot of money, and, most of all, you are old. And remember, don't call us, we'll call you for an interview, but only if our other younger, less qualified candidates don't pan out. As a lovely parting gift, you will eventually receive our generic 'We've filled this position but thank you and we wish you the very best in your job search' email. Now, thank you and go away."</i><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Sally O'Malley. I'm proud to say I'm fifty years old and I like to kick, stretch, and KICK! I'm FIFTY! Fifty years old..."</i></span></b></div><br />
I've been out of the workforce for some time. I'm graying naturally and I kind of like that. I'm definitely middle-aged but my eyes can still laugh and twinkle or be tinged with melancholy. In my heart and my head I am still that idealistic, passionate twenty-five year old young woman. So, that woman is going to be my driving force now to accomplish the things at home and with my family, and in the world via my writing, that I want to do. Let's face it: writing is an ageless profession. Many women novelists, especially those who raised a family, got their start later in life. One of my favorite books on farm life, <a href="http://www.little-heathens.com/"><i>Little Heathens</i></a>, was written and published by a woman in her 80s! <br />
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Now that this midlife crisis is effectively over (unless it is just beginning), I'm going to finish my canning this weekend: salsa today, peach jam and bread & butter pickles tomorrow. Then I'm going to tackle projects: both writing and otherwise. Little bites, one life at a time. Most of all, I'm going to "write and KICK!" as my now twenty-two year old daughter has so wisely advised. Because I'm (almost) fifty: fifty years old! And time waits for no one.Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12340286.post-25348665641182443892010-08-06T15:34:00.004-04:002010-08-06T15:48:26.106-04:00Blackberries!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TFxcsnNtW4I/AAAAAAAADfk/n-acDGBgQ7w/s1600/IMG_0095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TFxcsnNtW4I/AAAAAAAADfk/n-acDGBgQ7w/s400/IMG_0095.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As I've posted in this blog before on numerous occasions, I love berries but especially blackberries. </span>[Just do a blog search of my blog on "blackberries" in the column at left: yes, it's too hot and I'm too lazy to link them for you today!] Blackberries are the blueberries of the South and if you live in the Northeast or northern locations where blueberries prefer the acid soil and grow readily, you will know what I mean. Warm and juicy from the sun, not too sweet and a bit tart, all purply and plump, they are the perfect medium for so many things: fruit salad, peach-blackberry cobbler, jam, yogurt and even tossed onto French toast. Oh yes, and muffins: we've already made several batches of those, too.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TFxhNZG1LPI/AAAAAAAADfo/GZqZ9XFynKg/s1600/x2800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3hiDPQbAnzQ/TFxhNZG1LPI/AAAAAAAADfo/GZqZ9XFynKg/s400/x2800.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An early trade card for Butter-Nut Bread, with gnomes!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Here is my easy recipe for French toast: it is the only breakfast I can get everyone to agree upon without a fuss. Of course, when you make it with your own farm-fresh eggs, maple syrup from a former neighbor in New Hampshire, and blackberries picked right from your own bushes, you can't go wrong. I have to say, however, that Butternut® White Bread, the equivalent of Wonder®, makes a fine vehicle for the egg batter. It is even better when you've left the bread out overnight or just barely soak it in the egg mixture. Otherwise, you will have French glop!<br />
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<b>French Toast</b> (serves four)<br />
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• 4 large eggs<br />
• 3 cups milk (or combine cream, milk, Half-n-Half or whatever is on hand**)<br />
• 1 teaspoon vanilla<br />
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon<br />
• 2-4 slices of white bread per person<br />
• butter for your skillet and for slathering<br />
• <i>real</i> maple syrup (accept <b><i>no</i></b> substitutes: otherwise you are drinking high fructose corn syrup! OK, so you could also use sorghum molasses, too, a favorite here on biscuits)<br />
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**just don't use skim milk <br />
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Mix all ingredients with an egg beater, except for bread. In the meantime, heat a generous tablespoon of butter in your skillet on medium high. Let sizzle. Have plates ready. Briefly, especially if bread is fresh, dip one piece at a time in the prepared egg batter (I can fry 3-4 pieces at once in my skillet) and take right out of the batter and place on skillet. Cook, briefly, on each side of bread until firm, browned and no liquid is showing.<br />
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Stack and serve with butter, maple syrup and a handful of your favorite berries or fruit. Also goes well with thick bacon or sausage patties.<br />
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We'll probably have this in our house on our first day back to school on Wednesday. Yes, the school year is here again, even though August is probably the hottest, most summer-like month in Kentucky. This was the fastest summer ever, even though the boys had three months off (but we get a lovely temperate May and all of June on the other end so we can't complain). Despite the heat here, we do enjoy this season on the farm and we plan to languish in our last days of summer vacation together.<br />
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On that note, I'm nursing a summer cold so I'm off for a nap and a good read--not necessarily in that order. For me, and with everyone in a routine again, the fall months will bring more structured time for writing and I'm looking forward to that. I may, if the fates allow, even have a real, live salaried writing-related job opportunity in the wings, too. I'll keep you posted. Either way, I'll keep blogging when I can. And I may as well nap while I still can, too!Catherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11361090241108323002noreply@blogger.com7