MY TIME HAS COME

And the heavens opened...and rained down upon us, pure and white, light and fluffy, our first real snow!

It did not take me long to don my skis and take the loop from my garden, up through the woods, over the hills, across the road, along Jug Creek and back.

My dog, leaping eagerly as she heard me coming up the basement stairs clanking the skis and poles.

I know I've said this here before, but even the lowliest of weeds seem so beautiful
when framed by the snow.

It is difficult for me not to take a photo of each and every of the thousands upon thousands of dried 'weeds' covering the fields. Their beauty is truly stunning to me.

They seem graceful and poised at the same time, and perfect in their place.

And the burdock bends and curves while inviting one to really look at what it is, stark against the pure white.

This lovely bunch of red berries hanging from the bush on our front lawn
shouts out to be noticed.

How beautiful the world is in the winter!

!! ALLELUIA !!

MISSING WINTER

Today is January 10th and this is what it looks like out my cabin window. It is in the low fifties, and despite the beauty of the day, I am lamenting we have no winter.

The ground is bare
and brown.
Dried and broken,
nearly beyond recognition,
leaves scatter themselves in the breeze,

and as I walk back to my cabin
my feet cannot avoid the plethora

of pine cones
littered in my path.
I do not mind the
crunch, crunch, crunch.

Still I ache for snow
on this January day,
when at 50 degrees
it seems more like spring.


My skis,
forlorn upright soldiers
lean against the too
warm bricks
of the basement wall
dejectedly,
longing,
longing as do I
for the shush, shush, shush
of winters past.


Longing for the woods,
for the densely white silence
that opens up
and takes us deeply in
until we disperse
our cellular structure
and are no more.

And there just alongside our spring, the grass is winter beautiful, but it is days gone now, for it is no longer cold enough. I pray that global warming has not so altered our seasons that we bypass winter...where silence and beauty prevail.

MOMENTS

January 2012.
Winter...
my favorite season. Yet, there is no snow upon the ground, and I have skied but once this year. I can't help but regret the dire lack of snow, and with the 2 degrees below zero this morning, wish deeply that along with this bitter cold, were the beauty of the snow.

Still, as I walked back to the house from my cabin this morning, I could not help but be struck by the intense beauty of the trees against the sky...

assuring me that there are many facets of winter, and beauty is abundant everywhere, at all times.

These trees, abandon in their beauty, offer a wildness that hints of surprises as they fling themselves into the morning. I, too, shall fling myself into this day, into this year, hopefully with a little wildness of my own. I hope in this coming year to keep in the forefront of my mind, that the present moment offers everything.

One of the reasons that winter is my favorite season is the trees. Bereft of their leaves, stark against the sky, they seem filled with life, and vigor, and a beauty I can not elucidate, no matter how I try.

May I be always be awake in the moment.

LOCAL AND FRESH

A while back, in the late fall, a friend gave me a huge amount of fresh from the bogs, cranberries. Huge amount as in a 5 gallon bucket. Her brother-in-law lives right by a bog and gets some most years. They were beautiful, so red and so large, and once cooked, so tasty. After having cleaned out the culls, I packaged much of the bucket and gave away gallon bags full. The rest I froze, awaiting a turkey.

We bought a turkey from an Amish friend, freshly slaughtered then frozen until Christmas. (One of the best turkeys in memory.) My opportunity to make cranberry sauce. I did make the sauce...

Cranberries simmering slowly...while I listen to the musical pop of the skins...

I made several batches of sauce to eat, a little orange zest added for flavor, a powerful, pungent and utterly delicious sauce. Still having a large amount of cranberries in the freezer, I wanted to make a colorful, flavorful dessert for Christmas.

...a baked pie shell...

*1 pkg. Organic Valley Cream Cheese softened
*1 c. Organic Valley heavy whipping cream, whipped
*4 c. cranberry sauce

Beat the cream cheese until fluffy. Whip the cream until thick but not stiff. Place it in the bowl with the cream cheese and beat until incorporated and thick. Gently fold in the cranberry sauce, pour into the shell, and freeze.

Take it out of the freezer and refrigerate several hours prior to serving, cut and serve. This is a so simple and really delicious pie, that could have, but definitely does not need a dollop of whipped cream atop each slice.

For Christmas I received a cookbook I had wanted, called Rustic Italian Food, by Marc Vetri. I decided, despite the fact that I have my own bread recipe down pat, to try this rustic Italian loaf of bread which begins with a biga. A biga is something like a sourdough starter, but not as thin, more like a loose dough.

The recipe came with a story about a famous chef who 'invented' this loaf, who always called out to the baker, burnt, burnt, I want it burnt. Supposedly it is best fully and terribly dark brown. Well, I heeded this to some extent, but I couldn't bring myself to let it go 'burnt'.

It is a beautiful, hearty, loaf....

with all the air holes one really wants in the 'crumb'...

we tasted it alongside my regular loaf, and found it wonderful, perhaps equally wonderful, but we did not think it surpassed the usual baguette I make from a sour dough starter. Still, it is impressive.

Still having a crate load of butternut squash from the garden, I decided to make Butternut Squash Risotto for supper along with a salad and this rustic bread.

MMmmm, did we eat well last night! !

THE ORGANIC WAY OF LIFE
(Vote for your favorite essay)


Several weeks ago I entered a contest for Organic Valley/Stoneyfield Farms and am now one of six finalists. The contest was a 200 word essay (which in its brevity was difficult for me to do, loquacious as I am) and the subject matter was: How do you celebrate organic in your kitchen and in your life?

This was a subject that was near and dear to me, although I had given it no direct thought prior to writing the essay. When I was a girl we lived with my grandmother until her death. She was an avid gardener, and I trailed behind her in the garden incessantly. She was naturally, an organic gardener, and the food she prepared in our kitchen was always fresh or preserved from the garden. The kitchen was truly the heart of our Sicilian home.

I learned much from her, and she lives still so vividly in me.

If you go to http://www.celebratewithorganic.com/winners you can read all six of the essays and vote for the one of your choice. I, of course, would like your vote, but honestly, I can't ask for it unless you truly feel that mine is the 'top' essay. If you do, you are able to vote once per day under the same email until January 31.

And by the way, thanks for reading this blog...and I hope you celebrate organic in your kitchen and your life, too!

FROM BACK....TO BACK

These adorable little lambs, Robin and Primrose respectively, now grown, live a very good life on Iris' and Elsa's 'farm'. I have seen them romp and run, and be led on a lease. They surely were sweet little ones.

Staying little was not for long, as they grew in size as well as in a luxurious coat of fine wool.

In March we all went to the sheep shearing gathering at the Ashley-Wright farm, where

...Robin met the sheep-shearer's shears...

...as well as Primrose...
neither seemed to mind too much, and given the heat of the summer, I am sure they were relieved.

The huge bags of raw and dirty wool was taken to Heavenly Fiber Woolen Mill in Readstown to be washed, combed, and spun into yarn.

A lovely unbleached cream color came from Primrose, and the black from Robin was twined with the cream to make a beautiful heather yarn.

Iris and Elsa helped me to wind the hanks into balls ready for knitting.

One sweater nearly finished and the second begun...needling away as fast as I can as I wish these to be for Christmas.

There is something that fills the heart knowing the girls will be wearing sweaters knit from the wool of their very own lambs. Sustainability at its finest.