Around the Homestead

Up the valley, at the home place, there is no computer, no TV, the radio only works if it's pointed in the right direction, and cell phones don't work at all. Spending a few days up there leaves you out of touch with the outside world. Coming back down the valley, it's always surprising how little's been missed.

Because of work schedules, our family Christmas will come two days early, and the gathering place is almost ready. Just a little more baking, a few things to wrap, and a touch of cleaning will make the house holiday ready.

The cottage on the back road will be occupied again by the end of the week. Until then have the happiest of holidays with your family and friends. Much love is sent to each one of you from my little valley in the mountains.

A Blessed Christmas to You All!

Little Gal's Christmas Fashion Show

(She does wear shoes!)

Baking Sugar Cookies

(Sorry, no time for the story)

Riding the Christmas Train

(Oops, we lost Santa Claus!)

When the weather turns cold in the valley,

and Christmas lights start twinkling

on houses in the village,

the quest begins.

Every year the anxiety and excitement mounts

until a new guy is added to Little Gal's collection.

It's been so since the year of her birth,

when the first guy came into her life

and shocked her mother at his size

and the rest of the family

because he looked so bazaar.

He was the size of Little Gal,

and then some.

She wasn't quite two months old.

To find the perfect guy for Little Gal,

the Internet is searched,

the pattern box is searched

and Grandma's cluttered mind is searched.

Because it can't be just any guy.

It has to be the right guy

for Grandma's Little Gal.

Sometimes a pattern is used,

Or, sometimes Grandma dreams up one of her own.

This year's guy came from a picture chosen

From all the pictures of guys

saved and kept in a folder.

A pattern was drawn,

then enlarged onto tissue paper.

Cut from muslin dyed a gingerbread tan,

Little Gal's guy took shape

with well stuffed

legs, arms, body and head.

Clothed in a vest with holiday theme,

Red buttons lined his chest and belly.

White rickrack circled his arms, legs and head,

And black eyes looked out

from his rosy cheeked face.

A wide smile stretched

from one ear to the other -

(But the certainty of ears is in question).

Snowflakes were danced across his forehead

and one of his legs.

A plaid heart,

matching the lining of his vest,

Was needled and threaded to the opposite leg.

Lastly, for remembering, a tag with Little Gal's name

and the year the new guy entered her life

was hung around his neck.

For six Christmas'

Little Gal has gotten her guy.

In some of those years, though,

to be truthful,

she's gotten a gal instead of a guy.

This year, there is question

whether she has a gal or

whether she has a guy.

It isn't known for sure,

But, whatever it is,

it has a new home

with the five other members of

Little Gal's Gingerbread Clan.

2008 Gingerbread

2008 Gingerbread With Gingerbreads From Little Gal's Past

(You might recognize

Kermit the Gingerbread Frog

in the above picture,

the first gingerbread oddity

that had family members chuckling

and tongues wagging.

He was named by an amused uncle

who recognized his froggy characteristics.)

Last Year's Gingerbread - 2007

  At the head of the valley snow often comes sooner, falls heavier and lasts longer than it does down below, Around the Homestead. Over Thanksgiving, throughout the valley, an uncommon snow fell, and fell, and fell some more.

It fell deep and stayed long in the upper reaches of the valley, where as a family, we gather, coming from all directions, on most holidays during the year.

With her family and Jack the Dog (also known as JackiePoo), Little Gal came from the Big City, where snow isn't as frequent, as lasting or as deep, to the little house in the bend of the creek, at the edge of the wood, where snow can keep you snuggled inside or give you a purpose to go out.

Little Gal came with a firm purpose in her expanding mind. Her purpose was to have some rousing fun in the snow. Little Gal's intention was to go out.

To go out, she was longjohnned, tobogganed, gloved, jacketed, hooded and, finally, booted. Little Gal was raring to go. She couldn't wait to go out, to romp in the glorious snow. But before she got to the door, she had to quit. Her boots didn't fit!

A wintertime tragedy for Little Gal! Playing in the snow had been talked all the way from the Big City to Grandma's, then all the way up the valley from there.

Maybe she could wear her boots without socks? Grandma vetoed that suggestion. She needed more protection than that.

Well, Grandma had worn her boots. Perhaps with some extra pairs of socks? No, it didn't work. Little Gal clopped and flopped. 

Couldn't she just wear her Sketchers and socks? This idea got an emphatic "No" from Mother. Her feet would get too cold and wet.

Heartrending times like these require serious innovation. These are the times when Super Wise Grandma must assert herself and commandeer the situation.

These are the times when everyone knows (who has good sense and distaste for family discord) to disagree with Grandma is a total waste of verbiage. Because she's Grandma, and Grandmas always know best! 

Post haste, Little Gal was socked and shoed. Next, she was plastic bagged to her knees to keep out the cold, wet snow. Then, with a final stroke of genius, she was socked with a pair of her Daddy's huge, sixteen size socks (with a hole in the bottom, so it didn't matter) to keep her from slipping around in the snow.

Little Gal's foot cover was a Thanksgiving masterpiece, one of Grandma's best quick-thinking inventions. From such Grandma-based brainstorms springeth a happy Grandchild. 

Excitedly outside in the wonderful, marvelous snow, the first thing to do was build a fort. Using a garbage can to form the snow into firm blocks, Little Gal and her Daddy, a think-on-your-feet inventor himself, built a snow fort in the side yard, and the snow battle was on.

Fists full of packed snow flew back and forth between father and daughter, with Little Gal hunched behind the fort, popping up to pelt Daddy with all the snow her five-year-old hands could hold.

The battle ended, but for Little Gal there was no thought of abandoning the cold and snow for the warmth she would find in the house. 

A day in the snow wouldn't be fun in the snow without a ride downhill on a sled. And Little Gal had her saucer, an end of season purchase last year and never used.

With some nudging from Daddy, she flew down the hill (a little girl size hill) on her saucer of green. Trudging back up, with Little Gal determination, she did it all over again.

Going down the hill was cinchy, even for a little girl like Little Gal. Coming back, not so much.

Carrying her saucer in pink mittened fingers, the climb back to the top was a chugging effort. But, Little Gal made the trip several times, enjoying the zippy ride back down to the bottom. What luck to have a hill in the side yard!

In time, Little Gal's snowy adventure came to an end, except for the memory she carried with her when she left the valley to return home to the Big City.

The snow fort was left to melt and break apart in the side yard, to be remembered in pictures taken of the day.

The boot socks that had kept Little Gal's feet warm and dry were tossed into the garbage, no longer an important accessory for a little girl who had come in from the cold. Their important purpose for Little Gal's Thanksgiving escapade in the snow had expired.

Sometime soon, she'll return to the valley, a valley that will likely be covered with snow. This time, though, inside her bag of this and thats will be a good pair of little girl boots. Boots made for hours of playtime in the snow. Boots that will fit Little Gal perfectly.

WARNING!

NOT FOR VEGETARIANS

TURDUCKEN

A TURDUCKEN is three birds nested together. The  tur is (turkey). The duck is (duck). The en is (chicken).

From YUMSUGAR

Turducken
A deboned turkey that's stuffed with a deboned duck that's stuffed with a deboned chicken. The cavity of the chicken is usually filled with sausage, breadcrumbs, or stuffing. Born in the South in the 1980s, it can be braised, roasted, grilled, or barbecued. Many people serve a turducken in place of the turkey on Thanksgiving.

From The Cartoon Lounge - The New Yorker

November 19, 2008

More on Turducken

I have to say the whole idea of turducken grosses me out a little. Maybe it’s because it starts with the word “t--d.”

But just the idea of stuffing one animal carcass into the hollowed out cavity of another seems disturbing to me. It’s like something from a horror film. It’s like those Russian dolls that fit inside each other except it’s made of pimpled, pink poultry flesh. But if you’re into that sort of thing, why stop with just three birds? How about this—how about you cram a quail into the chicken and then you’ve got yourself turduckenquail. I’d even go a step further and farther afield and stuff the quail with a shrimp.

What else? Maybe wrap the shrimp in bacon? Then stick the whole thing in a goat in a pig in a cow and then deep fry that sucker.

Delicious.

Posted by Matthew Diffee

TURDUCKEN at the History Channel

Paula Deen's TURDUCKEN Recipe

TURDUCKEN Recipe

Another TURDUCKEN Recipe

TURDUCKEN Song 

No TURDUCKEN  at our house.

 We'll feast on turkey and ham.

Trudging gamely onward,
Carrying extra clothing load,
Conversation wasn't hindered,
No, it literally flowed,

About how this November
We'd been thoroughly snowed!

Growing up, it wouldn't have been Sunday without the funny papers and L'il Abner.

November 15, 1937 
Debut of Sadie Hawkins Day in Al Capp’s “L’il Abner” comic strip.

Lil-Abner Sadie Hawkins Day

November 15, 2008 Sadie Hawkins Day

Not a typical holiday, Sadie Hawkins Day is the invention of Al Capp, creator of the Li'l Abner comic strip. Capp conceived of a day in Dogpatch, U.S.A., when all the unmarried ladies could pursue (literally) their men. If caught, the hapless bachelors were soon trudging down the aisle. This fictional world so captured people's imaginations that Sadie Hawkins Day passed into the realm of modern folklore. The first Sadie Hawkins Day took place in November 1938. Today, it's usually celebrated on the second Saturday in November to accommodate all the "girls-ask-boys" school dances and other events.

                             Copyright ©1999, Yankee Publishing Inc. All rights reserved.

Veteran's Day

Veteran's Day is the anniversary of the signing of the armistice which ended World War I in 1918. This day is also known as Armistice Day in Europe and Remembrance Day in Canada. It is celebrated on November 11th.

In Flanders Fields

John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Little Gal arrived Thursday evening, and we haven't stopped since. We've been preparing -rolls, cookies, pies - for our annual fall family get together up the valley.

In the middle of it all we were slowed down when company came to visit. Happy we were to see them but the longer we visited, the behinder we got.

Little Gal has to have her hand in everything, so she shaped dinner rolls, rolled pie dough and stirred the makings for cowboy cookies.

All this in between Noggin, Disney and a letter find computer program. (How many times can a grandmother say "Wash your hands before you help me with the food" before she locks herself in the bedroom and weeps?) Little Gal and I were almost there yesterday.

But today is another day, and we're packed and ready to go. (How many times can a grandmother hear "Grandma, can we go now?" before she logs off the computer and says, "All right, let's go?)

So we are out of here and heading south. All of you have a great weekend.

Walking down the back road this morning we found the day to be fine. Fog was lifting from the river, and the autumn browns blended well with the sky's blue.

Cows watched us curiously, as they usually do, and milkweed pods were bursting open, spreading their seed. They'd be popping up again next spring, in larger numbers, and in many different places.

All the sounds were there that perk our ears every early morning. Birds chirping, still flying from one wild plant to another in their constant browsing for daily nourishment. Vehicles humming toward us or from behind us, shooing us quickly to the side of the road. Whisking traffic sounds reached us, too, from the main highway a few miles distant.

All things were in their place that had a place. A few clouds graced the sky, and the cows held claim to their pen.

Everything was in its place, that is, except the donkeys. Most often spending their time at the far end of their grazing area, they had grazed themselves closer to the tempting grass near the fence by the road. 

Some time ago a neighbor had brought two donkeys home to bray in his field on the back road. It wasn't long till a donkey baby joined them. A while later one little, two little, three little donkeys had become five.

Discussing them as we walked past, Walking Partner became agitated that she had lost a glove. Looking around and turning back to search for it, we laughed to see that she had one on her hand and one in her pocket.

Not to be upstaged by WP's senior moment, I, who had dressed warmly for the weather, suddenly felt uncomfortable about the legs. Feeling the snugness of my long underwear as I walked along, it rushed through my mind that I had forgotten to slip into my baggy sweat pants. A quick look reassured me that they were there, a little too long but saved from dragging the asphalt by elastic.

Anyway, I knew without a doubt that WP would have informed me if I had, in fact, been without pants. With a chuckle, the nightmare was explained to WP.

With a chuckle of her own, she let me know that she never pays any attention to what I throw on my body.

I could have been naked, and she wouldn't have noticed it. Well, maybe that's stretching her lack of interest and observation a little too much.

On second thought, back to the donkeys, that count of five might be too low. They aren't the only Jackie Patooties on the back road.

When we go out in the morning for our walk down the back road, it's always in our minds that maybe today we'll see the deer. From our observations, they spend the night bedded down in the wooded areas by the river. We've never seen them in their sleeping quarters, that's just what two Back Road Busy Bodies think they do.

Then after a night of rest, in early morning, they make their way through the grassy fields belonging to our neighbors. From there, they leap the fence and hop the bank that runs along the back road. Crossing the road, they climb the hill on the other side to spend their day browsing in the woods.

Any deer still lingering there would be hidden by the fog that fronted the river. Signs of wet, muddy hoof marks at familiar deer crossings made us believe the deer had long since crossed and were gone.

Reaching our distance and turning around, back and forth conversation diverted our attention from the fields and river. Happenings being hashed over took precedence over anything in our surroundings.

Then a snort came to the left of us, out of a break in the brush, disrupting talk that wouldn't be remembered later. Turning towards it, our approach had already frightened them. A herd of bounding white-tails were heading back to the river.

Not always appearing when we want them to, with every walk down the back road, they sometimes surprise us when we think there's little chance. Today was a day of the deer.  

Deer in October