Even though the landscape is stripped of leaves and blossoms, winter is by no means drab. However, the soft glow of strategically-placed lights add a welcoming touch.
Although summer's outdoor furniture has been stored away, a spiral lighted tree threesome and a 10-bulb set of Smith & Hawken drop string lights, hung from our front porch roof, provide a cozy glow at nightfall. The lights were a thoughtful gift from our daughter, Heather.
Not so much changes. If we choose for it not to. Letters and laundry. Two examples. An email is quickly deleted after reading. A handwritten letter is cherished from the moment it is retrieved from the mailbox and often saved to reread over the years. Laundry can be a dreaded task to complete as quickly as possible or it can be savoured as a cup of tea. It's about being in the moment. Allowing oneself to sense what is all around. Beyond the task itself. Hanging laundry to dry on a line outside in the coolness of the morning, when the birds' chorus is lively, and the dew still wet on the ground. A dryer may be less effort, but what are we missing? The photo below is one of my favorites. It is Dick's mother. The setting is the backyard of the house where he lived on the dividing line between Crosby and Ironton, twelve miles northeast of Brainerd. His family moved to Brainerd prior to the start of his 4th grade school year, so this photo was taken in 1957 or earlier.
I have a mission, now. To seek photos of my mother and grandmother hanging laundry on their clotheslines. To hang on my wall. Together. To tell a story. Personal and historical. To document change. Or encourage lack of it.
In the morning, I rearranged my twig furniture to create a banquet table.
Dick carved a jack-o-lantern after selecting a face from a printout that our granddaughter had sent us...
and cut slabs from the trunk of a fallen tree to use for plate/bowl chargers.
In the cool evening, we gathered. Warmed by a wood fire on the backporch, we ate bowls of soup and chunks of rustic bread. Game night with my siblings. At our home. Our bed and breakfast.
I do love laundry flapping in the breeze. A rope tied around two trees, a retractable line, or permanent wires stretched taut between poles. That part doesn't matter. It's the act of hanging out laundry to dry in the freshness of nature. (One of my go green postage stamps with a drawing of a clothesline wisely advises us to "let nature do the work.") It's recreating an era before automatic dryers. It's the cozy feeling it elicits... like oven mitt-covered hands removing a rhubarb strawberry pie or a pan of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven on a rainy day.
Growing up, we didn't own a dryer. So, it was out of neccessity that we utilized a clothesline. I vividly remember the scent of lilacs as I hung laundry outside in the springtime, as a large bush grew at each end of the poles. When we installed our clothesline, I knew it must have lilac bushes... one at each end.
Yesterday, I received a sweet email from an Illinois resident who I had the pleasure of meeting when she stopped by my bed and breakfast last August, accompanied by her sister who lives in the area. A snippet of her email... "I just thought I would let you know that I was just looking at your website for a little apron-inspiration, and got sidetracked by your blog about the "fruit" cake. I am now full of curiosity about whether Jessica actually took a bite of the cake/bread that you'd left aside for her with the lentil soup." Yes, Sharon, after a wary, skeptical, miniscule sampling of my fruit cake, my daughter Jessica single-handedly put away an entire mini loaf during her 3-day visit. Perchance there are other apron lovers in the blogosphere, so I thought I'd dedicate this blog post to you, Sharon, and others that are also looking for a little "apron-inspiration."
We all have dreams. Over the years, I have concluded that, no matter what generation, we are more alike than not. We dream of where we'd like to live, the house we'd like to build, the interior furnishings, and the layout of our gardens and farm buildings. My parents, I recently tangibly discovered, were no different. While sorting through their personal belongings upon their deaths (my mother on April 22, 2011 at age 93 and my father on January 26, 2005 at age 94), an assortment of house plans from various sources surfaced. The before and after house plans shown below from The Business of Farming J.F. Anderson Lumber Co. Copyright 1945, show how a "typical L-shaped farmhouse lends itself ideally to modernization inside and out." The farmhouse style is practically identical to the one I love so much at the Rollag Farm Show! (See yesterday's post.)
In 1946, my parents purchased acreage ten miles southeast of Brainerd that increased to its present 160 acres through acquisition of adjoining land. The original property included an early 1900s house that had a kitchen, living room, and one bedroom. A family that was rapidly increasing in size, to eventually total twelve children, required the addition of two bedrooms and a "backroom" for a chest freezer to store garden produce and meat, a wringer washing machine, a wood stove to heat water in a copper boiler for laundry, a cupboard to set a water pail and dipper for drinking and cooking use, and a combination wood bin/wash basin unit. My father and mother may have referenced some of the house plans, that had so carefully been filed away in the top shelf of my father's bedroom closet, for their house's additions. I am not sure.
In the same publication as the farmhouse renovation article is a farmstead layout. I envision my father, who generated a supplemental income through farming, gleaning ideas for his farm. His dream.
These are three of my go-to kitchen cleanup aids. I prefer the Bon Ami Powder Cleanser because of its simple ingredients: limestone, feldspar, biodegradable cleaning agents (from corn, coconut, and palm), soda ash, and baking soda... and the label's cute baby chick.
The sponge brush is perfect for cleaning two-quart canning jars that I use for raw milk storage and one-quart canning jars that I use for culturing buttermilk and yogurt. With a quick twist of the wrist, the brush swipes away the slight coating of nonhomogenized milk's cream that clings to the jars' sides before its dishwasher sterilization. The brush's adjustable handle lengthens to accommodate taller jars and bottles. It was a bonus gift when I purchased my eco mugs.
The hand crocheted or knitted scrubber is made from netting. I learned that tidbit of info after my curiosity led me to pull a bit of material out of the scrubber's center. In most instances, the scrubber is all that is needed to snuff out a stubborn spot in a pan's bottom. With a squirt of dish soap, it's also perfect for cleaning wooden cutting boards. Toss it in the washing machine's hot water cycle and it's good for another round.
The raw (unpasteurized and non-homogenized) milk that I purchase comes in plastic gallon jugs. As soon as I get home, I transfer it to glass jars. You can imagine my excitement when I came across two half gallon glass milk bottles in a cheery red carrier during Dick's and my farm show outing last weekend. Functional and cute... crucial attributes in my book.
Did you know that the best spot to store milk is on the bottom shelf to the back of the fridge? Strangely enough, many models are designed with a wide shelf in the door to accommodate gallon milk jugs. Everytime it's opened, a refrigerator's temperature increases. Food stored in the door and to the front of the shelves are most affected by temperature fluctuations (at least 5° warmer than the remainder of the fridge). To prevent bacteria from forming, milk must be kept as cold as possible. A refrigerator's overall temperature should be 41° or below. Milk is best stored at 34°-39°. Hmmm... milk stored in the refrigerator's door is convenient for pouring a quick glass of milk, but think about it.
One component of the farm show that Dick and I attended last weekend included antique dealers displaying their wares. Table after table up one aisle and down another... row after row beckoning visitors to take a closer look... to discover that special little treasure that would find a home... to be lovingly placed as a memory of the day... just one day in a lifetime. I was drawn to a simple, brightly colored, magnetic board spelling out the word cookbooks. The second "o" in the word "books" was missing, but I found a replacement in my craft stash... smaller in size, but no matter.
I displayed it by... what else... my coookbook collection. Above it, on the side of my pantry, I posted recipes that I plan to try in the future. I chose ones that use skills in upcoming lessons in my Cultured Dairy and Cheesemaking eCourse - Ricotta & Spinach Frittata (ricotta cheese), and Baked Manicotti Bundles (cream cheese and mozzarella)... recipes from my March 2011 Clean Eating Magazine, and Spinach and Ricotta Lasagna (ricotta cheese)... recipes from my March 2011 Real Simple Magazine. Because my mind is beginning to switch gears to spring, I also posted a Chive Goat-Cheese Souffles recipe to test and expand my seasonal (spring - chives) recipe collection.
A row of cookbooks sit atop an old library card catalog that holds my time-worn, handwritten recipe card collection The shelves in the cabinet above hold more cookbooks. Inside the cabinet door, I taped food preparation instructions that I use frequently so that I can refer to them easily. After the preparation methods and quantities for making foods such as soaked muffins and soaked oatmeal have become second nature, I will replace the instructions with other healthy cooking methods I want to master. I also post abbreviated instructions for foods that I make regularly such as sour cream, buttermilk, butter, and yogurt.
In my mailbox... it awaited. I reached in and pulled out a little box addressed to me. It was from my friend, Deb. Inside was the most perfect Valentine's Day gift... an over cabinet towel bar that requires no drilled holes. It is up and functional in seconds. I purchased a new dishtowel to drape over my new towel bar... a perfect duo. (Click photo to enlarge.)
To make my gift's presentation special, Deb included this photo of her own towel bar.
Over cabinet towel bar and black and white stenciled dishtowel? Target and Target.