High on Believing

I was feeling pretty down today, then I saw this.

First signs of winter

We had the first big frost of the year overnight and a bright, but chilly day to follow. I have to admit that I'm a little tremulous about it getting really, really cold as the past few nights our house has been miserably cold. It's a rented house, so there's really not a whole lot we can do about it. I've been in touch with our letting agent and I'm optimistic that they may supply us with some sort of supplemental heating soon. I explained how we spend the evening in coats and hats and scarves and mittens and she shivered along sympathetically on the other end of the line. Keep your fingers crossed for us!!

You can see here where the bullfinches and waxwings have already cleared most of the berries in a feverish binge before winter sets in and means it.

Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life. -Mark Twain

I'll give you two guesses where you can find all of these wonderful titles. Have a good look at them. Did you spot the Biochemistry of Silage? Who among you found Horse-Shoeing in Your Right Mind? The Small-holder's Manual? Microbes and Man? Applied Dog Behavior and Training?

All of these intriguing titles and more (much more!) can be found at my new place of employment. Did I mention I'm now a librarian? Okay, Library Assistant. And not just any library, mind you, but one of the UK's only colleges devoted entirely to the Land-based studies. What are land-based studies, the Americans are grumbling. Well, I'll tell you. You got your agriculture, forestry, and countryside management. Your floristry, landscape architecture and design, and your sensory gardening. Somebody's got to fix your tractor, so we've got training for farm mechanics as well. Then there's the equine unit in which you can get your Master's in Stable Business Management (horse racing or riding school specializations, of course) or else train to be a riding instructor, a groom/stable hand, or in something mysteriously called equitation and maybe someone horsey out there can explain to me what that means. There's also the Veterinary Nursing department where you can train to be a vet nurse, or get your Bachelors in Veterinary Business studies. You can learn to work with lab animals, train guide dogs, become a farrier, a blacksmith, or if construction or joinery's your bag there's courses for you too.

All the girls wear their jodhpurs and riding boots and I have to admit I feel a little out of sorts in my boring old office wear. Truth be told however, so far I'm quite enjoying my new job. Being a librarian is a fiddly sort of profession that suits my selectively perfectionist persuasion. I especially like talking with the students, it's a good mix of kids - the farm machinery boys are only there for 12 weeks and are a bit rough and rowdy and I'm always a little surprised when one of them checks out a book. On the other end of the spectrum are the oh-so-serious Equine Science majors who never leave the library and beg you to let them check out just one more book when they've already gone 4 or 5 over their 10 book allowance.
Speaking of equines, who's that out my office window? We haven't been formally introduced but I hear he's called William. Or was it Harry? I'm quite certain it was one of the princes anyway. All of this horse business has finally prompted me to read the Horse Whisperer. Why didn't you tell me it was so good? It's about time I read the damn thing and now I can't put it down. I'm even seriously considering riding again since I'm so surrounded by the horseys day in and day out. I inhale the alluring aroma of horseshit all day and listen to the clip clopping of their shoes out my window and occasionally Prince Charles here gives me a hearty ole whinny.

I haven't ridden in years. My family had quarter horses and paints when I was a teenager though I'm ashamed to admit how quickly I lost interest once I turned 16 and got a car and discovered boys. It didn't help that every time I got in trouble for something involving the newfound cars or boys, the punishment was always the same: The entire weekend up at dawn stripping stalls and hauling manure out back in a wobbly wheel barrow in the pouring down rain. It sort of killed the romance of horses for me. Particularly when my parents went through their 'we're going to be horse breeders' phase and would have as many as 17 or 18 horses at any one time.

If I'm honest, I'm a bit intimidated by dressage and equitation and show jumping and the like. I've only ever ridden Western and I was hardly disciplined about it. My favorite thing to do (nevermind that I once paid dearly for it with a torn Achilles tendon and a plaster cast on my ankle for 6 weeks when I was 12) was to just plain hop on the horses while they were out at pasture. Even better if I was barefoot. There was something so wildly free and exhilaratingly sensual, even at 11 years old, about riding bareback and barefoot with nothing but a halter and lead for a bridle, or sometimes less. Plainly at the mercy of whatever whim the horse I was riding would take. Which mostly meant my holding on for dear life as they tried desperately to buck me off or hoped that if they ran fast and hard enough under the one tree on the edge of the field with the low branch they might just be rid of me and get back to munching on that fine, green grass. Damn, I had balls back then. (What happened to those, anyway?) Somehow I find the English approach so aristocratic and antiquated - though I know plenty of riders who themselves are neither of these things! Somebody talk me into it, I dare you.

I saved the best for last here's my favorite shelf of all. I especially like the way cheesemaking, trapping, squirrel control and beekeeping are all in one convenient place. Truly one stop shopping.

Autumn Pic of the Week

Though it can hardly be called autumn any longer, it's becoming more and more wintry everyday. It's below freezing tonight, there's already frost on the corners of the window frame, and we're seriously re-thinking how charming living in a quirky Victorian cottage is afterall, bearing in mind it hasn't been updated in 50 years. As the hub says, "It's blowing a gale through here." And that's just through the front door, nevermind the back! I guess we'll just have to cuddle.
Cheers!

Doh!

Which one of these needles is not like the others? Now that you'll be humming that sesame street classic under your breath the rest of the day, I'll explain. I grabbed the wrong friggin needle when rushing about to pack up for the quick trip back to the States last week when I was frantically rummaging through my to-do box. Consequently, one side of the Pippa Bag has this unsightly little bulge where I'd picked it up using the mistakenly identified offending 5 mm needle.
For whatever reason (hmmm, could it be travel exhaustion?) I didn't even notice until I got to Tucson and started in on the second side piece of the bag and began to run out of yarn. "Surely, the pattern called for 4 skeins, why does it look like I'll need six?" I said, puzzled. Apply hand to forehead here.

I'm going with it. It's felted, no one will be any the wiser, right? Any experienced felters out there please feel free to advise. This is my first felted piece.

This led my selectively anal-retentive nature down the long path of an inner monologue regarding how to avoid this in the future. Having worked as a vet nurse for a number of years, an obvious solution strikes me. We label instruments that all belong in the same surgical kit with rings of coloured tape to denote a matching set. I think I may embark on the same endeavor with my needles. Surely, that's the most overly drastic measure I could take. It would probably just be simpler to bind them together with rubber bands or create one of those wonderful needle organizers that I see patterns for all over the place. In fact, there's a pattern for one in the very same Rowan book that the Pippa Bag's pattern is in.

Queen Bee Poll: How do you organize your needles and other implements of mass construction?

Bisbee Friday!

Look who made himself at home on my desk.

Tuesday's Autumn Pic of the Week

Sunrise through the spiderweb.

Remember, Remember the 5th of November

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

Right. So, on the 5th of November in 1605, Guy Fawkes was caught in the cellars of the Houses of Parliament with several dozen barrels of gunpowder. The king frowned upon this, quite obviously, and Fawkes and his fellow plotters were hung, drawn and quartered. Not in that order, of course. You were drawn and quartered first, to make sure it was a most painful sensation before having the breath squeezed out of you by the noose. Did you know the English midlands was at the heart of this plot? In fact, the plotters themselves were caught in the next village over, in fair Dunchurch. Or so I was told by a strikingly convincing primary school teacher last night.

The nursery rhyme, of course, was invented to remind future generations that treason carried with it the most heinous of punishments. And even today, at least in my village, the local children make effigies of old Guy out of old clothes filled with newspapers and the like, to be burned to the general conviviality and camaradarie of the village folk on Bonfire Night, the 5th of November.

It was the Green Man Pub in my village that was responsible for the biggest fireworks display in the county. Whether that is actually true or not remains to be seen, however, the biggest damn bonfire this side of an American High School Homecoming night was certainly in effect. There was beer and hotdogs for all, though my dear neighbor Zoe insisted the queue was much too long for hotdogs and if truth be told, that sausage kind of weirded her out (fair enough) and that the Scampi and Chips at the Harvester (not the chain) were soooo worth the wait. Doesn't she look convincing with that beer at hand?

She was right, of course, about the Scampi, and surely the sausage as well. Oddly enough, British Scampi isn't anything like the North American version of Scampi, but is instead some sort of fish by-product mashed and muddled and then most likely artificially flavored to taste like fish and then rolled liberally and gluttonously in bread crumbs and then deliciously deep fat fried. Yum. Totally worth the wait, especially after all that beer on an empty stomach. Whoa! Did I mention how big the bonfire was?
Then came the fireworks. I am decidedly crap at photographing the fireworks. Luckily, the Green Man display lasted a full 35 minutes and I had plenty of opportunity to practice. Unfortunately, the beer on an empty stomach got the best of me and this, I'm afraid, was the best I could do.Long Live Long Itchington!! And God save the Queen. Or something.

Home Sweet Home (or home is where the heart is)

Well, I made it home after a gruelingly long haul across the Atlantic and an even more punishing journey on England's fine rail system with the 88 pound suitcase of goodies I brought home from America!! The exchange rate is so good right now, I just couldn't help myself! And besides, tis the season for cornbread and those jiffy mixes are only 34 cents a piece!

Despite my inherent grumpiness after the 24 hour door to door, the hub was happy to see me and treated me to fish and chips at our favorite village pub after which, belly full of Duck on the Pond goodness, I crashed hard until about midnight at which point I lay with my eyes wide open for most of the night. What a dumbass!! I'd signed up for a knitting class today to learn more about cables and beading, but can barely keep my eyes open so I ducked out on it. I'm really bummed about missing it, because I've been looking forward to it for weeks. I can hardly string two words together much less gab with the girls whilst learning new skills for the day.

Besides, tonight we get to see Iron & Wine play at the Rescue Rooms in Nottingham. I need to conserve my energy. I heart Sam Beam. And Sarah Beam and well anything and anyone connected to the band..... Here they are in Vienna when I saw them last with Calexico, nearly 2 years ago. I believe Sam is much furrier these days. Tell me what you think of the new album, The Shepherd's Dog. On first listen, I wasn't quite sure what to make of it, I liked it but I was hesitant to say it sounded anything remotely like what I expected from an Iron & Wine album. I listened to it a ton on the flight back home and it's really beginning to grow on me. And behold! You can now actually rock out to an Iron & Wine song courtesy of this album. Thanks, Sam!

Happy Halloween

Coaxing Her Little Brother into the Pool

What follows is a conversation overheard (and overseen by my camera) at the pool this morning. I think the photos speak for themselves, though I thought I'd add a little commentary.

"Oh my gosh, it is so much fun in the pool!! You should soooo come in."
"Come on, kid, do it for me?" I'll be your best friend......"

"Get in, or else!"
And in typical big sister fashion, after exhausting every other negotiation skill at her disposal.... "Loser."

Tucson This Morning

The first thing that's so striking about the Southwest is the architecture. All these colours and textures that just wouldn't work anywhere else. Certainly not in my village back home! This was a jetlag inspired ungodly early morning walk I took this morning.


The next thing that jumps out at you (and in the case of Cholla sometimes literally!) is the plant life here. The variety seen in a 30 minute walk is truly astonishing.

Happy Husband Salmon Chowder

So, what's a girl to do? I can't just leave him to his own devices while I'm away....can I? The solution: Happy Husband Salmon Chowder. I'm guessing it should stave off the late night trips to the chippy and the pizza deliveries for at least the first 3 or 4 days that I'm gone. Hopefully, it'll keep his tummy happy as well.

This is by far my favorite and by far the mostest tastiest soup that I've come up with yet, and a perfect way to end a chilly day. It first happened entirely by accident, when I was panicky about all the food I was leaving behind when I left Seattle for Europe. I was scrambling to pack up and move out of my house and it was one of those.... so I've got a freezer chock full of food, I can't just let it all go to the compost bin, what's a girl to do sort of dilemmas.

See, the biggest bonus about having family in Alaska is that when you go for a visit you inevitably go fishing. And not just any fishing, but Kenai River Red Salmon fishing (Sockeye salmon to those of you not Alaskan). This is the kind of fishing that everybody limits out on, even if you're not really trying. See, I'm not much of a fisherman. I talk the talk, but when it comes down to it I don't really walk the walk. Sure I've got the fly rod and the hip boots and I know how to tie a constriction knot, but I don't really have the "Fishing Force" like the rest of my family. The Force is strong in those ones. Their fingers merely touch a bit of fly line and there's a fish on the end of it. Me? I just get lucky. Or else there's just that many fish in the river!

That said, it's virtually impossible to leave without at least 50 pounds of fresh fish. The upside? A freezer full of fish! The downside? A freezer full of fish and you're about to move 6,000 miles away! The downside to moving 6, 000 miles away? No more fresh Alaskan salmon in the freezer! Nevertheless, this soup is gooooood whatever you can throw at it. In a pinch, I've even used canned salmon and it's turned out just as gorgeous as the day I came up with the recipe.

Today, it was Scottish Salmon (Atlantic salmon, very much like King Salmon - a mushier, pinker meat as opposed to the Sockeye's firm red flesh) that I threw in and a variety of canned veg. To be honest, I think you could throw just about anything at this soup and it would still be delicious. This is one bona fide, genuinely infallible, indubitably foolproof everything-but-the-kitchen-sink soup.

What do you need? I'll list the essentials and then a list of optional additions.

1 cup each, carrots, celery, onion - coarsely chopped
4 cloves garlic minced (or 2 tsp from a jar)
1/2 tbsp olive oil
1-2 cups water, divided
boullion cube - veg, chicken or fish flavor
2 tbsp Italian Seasoning or alternative fresh herbs (anything works!)
1 tbsp each onion and garlic powder
Salt & Pepper to taste
1/4 pound baby new potatoes
1 can chopped tomatoes
1 can corn
5 oz fresh salmon (2 small portions cut into 1 inch cubes)
1 tbsp creme fraische/sour cream


Optional :

Garbanzo beans/ chick peas
Green beans
Peas
Okra
Bell peppers
Any pulses or lentils you can think of!
Any other fish! Or crab, or mussels, or prawns all add to the flavor

It all starts with a good stock. What follows is a description of the stock I use for every soup I make. Don't panic, it's easy. I finished up my last day of work today at the country park, and within an hour of getting home, my bags were packed, my e-mails were answered, my morning train was booked and this stock was at a boil.

It starts with the big three: carrots, celery, and onions. Give 'em a good chop and throw them at the bottom of a soup pot with a bit of olive oil and some minced garlic. I totally cheat and buy the jars of pre-minced garlic. (Have you heard the skinny on garlic?) I gauge the done-ness of sauteeing the stock veg by when the onions go transparent. I've learned the hard way that if you walk away too long and the onions burn, then that's one nasty soup you've got to eat. So do, kindly, stir frequently, won't you? Add some fresh herbs! If you haven't got any, use the dried kind. I find that any good Italian mix will work wonders with this stock. Here I've got some dill, parsley, rosemary and thyme. I like to have basil and oregano around, but the greenhouse is suffering from a bad case of black fly at the mo, and this is all I could rustle up. The soup was gorgeous even without the dynamic duo.
Add a bit of onion and garlic powder, some salt and pepper and then cover with water and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for about 10 minutes. I'll often add a boullion cube (oxocube for the Brits) at this point just to add a bit of depth to the flavor, but I find that it's tasty even if I don't. This is also a good place to add about a tablespoon of flour if you're looking for a nice, thick broth. If you add the flour before the water comes to a boil, you'll never have to worry about the lumpy dumplings that can form later on.
Once you've given it a good simmer, about 15 minutes or so, you can throw the kitchen sink at it. If you're using canned food, include the juices from the can. It all adds to the flavor. Hold out on the salmon and the sour cream/creme fraische until just before serving. Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat and simmer for about 45 minutes to an hour. I've managed it in less time before, but just keep in mind that the longer you simmer it the better the flavors mix.
Meanwhile, cut your salmon into one inch cubes. When you place them in the simmering soup, about 15 minutes before you're ready to serve it, they'll flake up a bit and sort of disintegrate. This is a good thing. That flavor will infuse every square inch of that soup making it the most irresistibly delicious concoction you've ever come across. Trust me. Even 4 year olds will eat their vegetables if given this soup. It's been proven in my own scientific trials. Okay, just with my own nieces and nephews - but damn, they're picky kids. (I lied to them and told them it was chicken nugget soup. Works every time.....)

Just before serving mix in the sour cream, or half and half, or just milk if that's all you got! It turns the soup a lovely orange color and adds a bit of richness to an already rich soup. Go ahead and skip it, if dairy's not your bag.
Serve with garlic bread and a hearty red wine. Voila! Happy husband (or insert significant other title here)!
post script: If this post feels a bit rushed, it's because it is! T-minus 7 hours until lift off!! Tootaloo! More from the other side of the Atlantic!

One For The Road

I'm still not sure how it all happened so fast, but my departure for America is only 3 days away! After digging around in the To-Do box, I pulled out this start on the felted Pippa bag on the cover of the Rowan book. Swoon. Sigh. It's a perfect airplane knit. Since it's felted I opted to do it garter stitch instead of stockingette as there's just that much less thinking involved.

Consider this. Thursday looks like this for me: Leave house 7:30 am to catch train to London Gatwick. Arrive Gatwick at 11:30, flight to Detroit leaves at 2:00. Arrive Detroit at some ungodly time in the morning for me though bright day time for Detroit then catch another flight to Phoenix in which I arrive at 9 pm Phoenix time (6 am GMT). Then it's a 2 hour drive back to Tucson!! So that's a good 24 hours of traveling I've got to look forward to, so any less thinking I have to do, in my view, is a good thing.

Ankle update: Looking good, looking good! Only slightly swollen and just a tinge of green to be seen. Walking now with only a slight a limp. But man, have I got a lot done since I hurt myself in the line of duty! I can't drive yet though, and the anxiety is building regarding all of the running around I need to do before I leave on Thursday. What is that they say.... where there's a will there's a way.