Welcome 2012

You can tell it's been a while since my last post when I go from "Welcome November" to "Welcome 2012."  Looking out my window, not much has changed since that last post.  Unlike last year, we've had very little snow so far this winter, so the ground is still bare, the leaves are still blowing around, and the birds and squirrels are still scrounging around the yard and garden for the last of the seeds left on frozen plants.

In reality, during those few weeks, almost everything has changed, and the routine of life---that I'll admit I'm known to grumble about from time to time---has become very different due to a recent diagnosis of cancer.  The big "C."  I got the news just a few days before Thanksgiving, and so I've been getting used to this life change while lots of other things are going on a the same time.  As you can imagine, writing blog entries sort of went to the bottom of the list.

Besides, I had to ask myself, how much do I really share?  I'm a pretty private person and news like this exposes an awful lot more to people around you than is comfortable.  I wasn't ready to write about it here.  But I have thought about it, and now this is a part of my life.  So now, I garden, I cook, I knit, I travel, I keep house, I play piano, I volunteer, I do all the same things, and I have cancer.  Some of those things I do less while I'm trying to get rid of that cancer, but I'm still the same person.

Last year at the end of December, I made some resolutions.  I just read over them.  Some I kept.  Some not.  (Not too surprising.)  I think that during the coming year the plan is not to make a plan.  Or maybe the better plan is to improvise, to do what needs to be done during 2012 to keep enjoying all the things that I enjoy and continue to see uncommon beauty in this common life.

Welcome, November

What turns gold, must come down.

Fall clean up in the yard and garden is under way, and we've had a beautiful fall to get things done.  It's incredible the piles of leaves that accumulate week after week.  Just about the time you think you've made a dent, the wind comes and sets you straight.  I guess our motto is, "Rake until you shovel"--snow, that is.  No rush, by the way.

While there is a never-ending abundance of leaves, there seems to be a light crop of acorns this year.  I'm sure that must mean something.  Is it that the squirrels know it's going to be a tough winter and they've already "squirreled" them away, so to speak?  Or is it because there were so many last year, which by the way there were, that the trees are taking it easy this time around?

Regardless, here's to a warm welcome to November, one of my favorite months of the year.  A month for putting things in order and  planning for feasts and celebrations ahead.  A month of long and cool evenings for reading or knitting by a fire with a glass of something strong and smooth.  A month of soup and stew, squash and pumpkin, breads and pie.  A month for settling in.

Summer? Fall!

Feels like summer, looks like fall.  What more could you ask for?  The squirrels know as well as we do that this won't last much longer, but let's enjoy it while we can.

Last weekend we had a "function" that brought us to Duluth and the North Shore.  Lucky us.  In past years, we haven't had the best timing for our fall trips North.  It's either been too early, too late, cold, rainy, grey.  Sort of nice, but not great.  This year I think we hit it just right.

The sky was intensely blue, the leaves gorgeous, and it was close to balmy.  Short sleeve weather.  And you know what I love?  That fragrant, musky scent that hangs in the air while your trekking along a trail.  I know it's the scent of decay, which isn't terribly poetic, but is there anything better?  Bottle that and you've got something!

Besides the scenery, we always look forward to visiting some of our favorite restaurants in the area.  Duluth has some of the best dining spots in Minnesota, and we always look forward to a dinner of fresh fish at the Angry Trout in Grand Marais.  And of course, breakfast has to include a World's Greatest Donut--or two.  (That name may seem presumptuous, but they do not exaggerate.)

Just a week later, the show of fall colors have come to us.  Maybe this weekend we'll take a drive closer to home to admire some scenery. 

A Bushel of Roma Tomatoes...with My Name On It

So, we're walking around the Minneapolis Farmer's Market last Saturday picking up the usual stuff--corn on the cob, green beans, squash, etc.--and I see these bushels of Roma tomatoes.  Right away I'm thinking about big pots of tomato sauce bubbling on the stove and how it will be so great to have this fresh sauce at the ready for the winter months.  But I walk away.  Are you crazy?  You've got too much to do.  You don't have time for that right now.  Keep moving.

We bring a couple of bags back to the car and decide to head back to share a cinnamon roll and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.  We still have time on our parking spot, and the rolls did look really good.  Okay.  But I'm not saying anything out loud about those Roma tomatoes.

We're trying to get the sticky frosting off of our hands and walking through a few more rows of booths just to make sure we didn't miss anything, and I say, "Look at those bushels of Roma tomatoes.  Do you think I should get one a make tomato sauce." 
Now it's out there, and my husband looks very interested. 
"Would you make some of your Putanesca sauce?", he asks.
"I could."
"It's totally up to you.", he adds.  This is code for, "If you do get a whole bushel of tomatoes, don't expect me to get involved in your hair-brained scheme.  Just call me when it's ready to eat."

Now we're lugging about twenty-five pounds of Roma tomatoes back to the car, and I'm trying to figure out how many onions and heads of garlic I need and whether or not I still have enough fresh basil and Italian parsley in the garden to season the sauce.

In case you succumb to the temptation of a bushel of tomatoes, here's what I've learned over the years to make the process easier and, I don't mind saying, the final product darn tasty.
1) Don't bother peeling and seeding the tomatoes.  Cut them into chunks, eliminating the spot where the stem was attached, and toss them in the blender in batches to puree.  You can put them through the food mill to get rid of the larger bits of seeds and skin if you want.  I used to, but don't bother anymore.  We don't mind it.
2) If you add good stuff to a sauce--good stuff that you like--the sauce will be good.  I don't use a recipe.  If you like onion, add onion.  If you like lots of garlic, add lots of garlic.  You get the idea.  I  put in onion, garlic, olive oil, basil, oregano, parsley, and tomato paste.  Later I might add olives, Italian sausage, peppers--whatever I want--to this basic sauce before I toss it with pasta.
3) Freeze it.  I used to can my sauce; I don't anymore.  It doesn't taste any different to me, and it saves me that extra step.

Twelve Quarts of Tomato-y Goodness

Pickled Peppers

Pounds of peppers.  At least that's what seems has been coming out of the garden this summer.  Last Saturday I noticed that the Farmer's Market booths were plenty lousy with them too, so I'm not the only one experiencing a pepper boon.

I'll even admit that when I picked this last batch of jalapenos, they almost ended up getting tossed in the compost heap when no one was looking, but I couldn't do it.  I just couldn't waste them.

So, as long as I was doing a marathon kitchen session anyway, I decided to add some more Pickled Peppers to the pantry.  The last batch were Sweet Banana Peppers; this time it's straight up Pickled Jalapenos.

This was no fuss.  Vinegar, water, olive oil, salt, pepper, and a few pickling spices.  Quick chop of the peppers, pack them into clean jars, process, and done.  Toppings for enough Nachos for the entire neighborhood.

Tonight I have a clean refrigerator, fresh Cucumber Soup chilling in that clean refrigerator, a bowl full of Marinating Vegetables for dinner, and couple of jars of pesto.  It's definitely harvest time.

Summer's Over; Time for a List

Last night was our final concert of our summer of concerts---Steely Dan at the State Fair. We just can't seem to stay dry at anything with an outdoor venue this year. The chilly, steady, misty drizzle that we had last night didn't compare with the deluge at the U2 concert, but it counts.

They sounded great and played a good mix of old and older. And how 70's can you get than to get a whiff of pot in the air while listening to Reelin' In the Years? This wasn't the greatest venue for the band, but we missed them the last time they were in town and we weren't going to make that mistake again.

So now with Labor Day only a few days away, Summer 2011 fast becomes the summer that was and it's time to think about getting back to business. Since our son started school a couple of weeks earlier than usual, I feel like I've already gotten a head start. I have a list. That's something.

Harvest

Cool mornings and earlier sunsets are here to remind us that our summer days are numbered. It's always a bittersweet time of year; sad to see summer come to a close, but we look forward to what's ahead.

It's harvest time.

This has been a strange year in the garden. After a very cool spring, our summer has been HOT and WET. Since I usually struggle with cool and dry, all the plants that tend to be my old reliables suffered while the ones I plant on a whim have flourished.

Except for the tiny tomatoes, which have been prolific as usual, nearly every one of my tomato plants succumbed to some kind of a blight or disease. The Romas gave me enough for a few good pasta meals, but the rest of them barely eeked out a handful of baseball-sized fruits. The bean plants that positively withered in the extreme heat are finally recovering, so instead of getting our fill in July, we've been enjoying our glut of green beans in August.

On the positive side, there's been dozens of peppers. I've stuffed them, pickled them, wrapped them in bacon, and they keep coming. And I've got eggplant! MN weather is not terribly conducive to growing these little beauties, but a miniature variety in this heat has given me a good crop. Caponata by next week, I'm thinking.

Tons of cucumbers. And basil! Holy pesto, have I harvested the basil. So far, I've been using it all fresh, but I need to spend some time making some pesto sauce to freeze for the winter.

The cooler weather has me thinking about sweater days, too. After setting aside the Fyingdales cardigan for a few weeks, I got back to it and now it's ready for fall.

I think this could become a good workhorse sweater in my closet providing it stops with the shedding. It seems to have slowed down after giving it a soak for blocking. A white t-shirt underneath is still not the best idea--unless I would have no intention of taking my sweater off at any point through the day.

The pattern was well written--one minor spot of confusion that I noted on my Ravelry post. There are knitters who have complained about sizing with the patterns in this book, but I thought this was right on. I am a fan of drop shouldered sweaters which tend to be a little on the bulky side. If you're looking for a fitted garment, this is just not your book.

I no more than got the buttons sewn on this one than I cast on another pattern out of A Fine Fleece--Two Hearts. This one I'm doing up in Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride in the color Sable. I even like the name of that color. The cable pattern is easy with great looking results.

Enough. Time to get out and enjoy our late summer day.