Seeing the old year out

Tuesday was about a final lovely walk in the old year, starring beeches, seizing the sunny day before rain returns 

Then Misfits arrived, small order, but you'll notice celebratory chocolate cherries.

And the limes for cordial which has become a staple around here. Ground chicken for chick burgers, yogurt and blueberries, a squash for a possible bread. And that's all she wrote.

A start on a long sprawling Delderfield 

Exactly as corny and readable as you'd expect from a Delderfield, great for a cosy long read, just the ticket.

The afternoon reading seems to have included a nap, the result of all the morning activity.

Then I decided I didn't need to keep up the decorations till twelfth night this year, so they're all packed, in one small box. Not a lavish decorator, me.

And all the garbage out, mail picked up, floors swept,  crocheting continued, into a lovely quiet evening at home.

You'll see suggestions for New Year resolutions in my New Year's Day post!

Happy evening, everyone, whatever your exciting plans!

Tofu Masala ftw

Today I finally got around to making that Yeung Man Cooking recipe, and it's the kind where you need to be in the zone of process. Also have plenty of spices.

As you see, two counters in play, one for the spices, one for the two boards of veggies and tofu for chopping, mincing, dicing.  

I had to do  a couple of substitutions, crushed for sliced tomatoes, no shallots, used extra red onions, and I added in a handful of chard. I thought it would work okay and it did. I like my green leafy vegetables every day.

Since my adventure a while back when I got hot pepper somehow into my eye, hours after I'd handled it, I  now use kitchen gloves to handle hot peppers, also I chop them when they're frozen, so the oils aren't in action. Likewise I chop onions frozen, same reason.

Will Yeung never does these workarounds, he must be ironclad.

It's a lot of sequences, each needing a couple of minutes sauteeing, until the last stage of cooking covered for ten minutes.

That's when I put away all the spices and cleaned up the counters, and took a rest. But that sequential cooking is why it's so good. You literally experience layers of flavor when you eat, every forkful a bit different from the others.

This one is spicy, so if you're not spice friendly you'd need to dial it back. The coconut milk at the end is vital to take the raw edge off the spices leaving a lovely heat. 

I suppose other equivalents would work if you don't like coconut milk or cream. Other milks, maybe. Or dairy cream if you're not vegan. I'm not vegan, I just like how interesting and light to digest Will's dishes are.

And here's the last stage, before the tofu and red onions are reintroduced to the spicy sauce, then lunch 

This is really an Indian dish, though presented by a Chinese Canadian chef. 

I got three meals from this recipe. For Will it's one!

And I did some urgent winnowing too dull for pictures. It's that deep cabinet in the corner under the counter where stuff falls about and mounts up and gets a person really annoyed when she can't find things and they fall down the back out of reach.

Mostly its reusable containers from yogurt and cheeses, useful but I don't need that many. Also glass jars, lidless, lids, jarless, you know.

A large bag went into the recycling and now I have the number of containers I need, all with lids, so smug.

A late note about birds. As you know if you keep them, birds are social and ready to join in any conversation that's going. That includes when you're trying to do serious business on the telephone if you work from home as I did for many years.

One client stopped me in mid negotiation to ask "Is that a tape running or are you calling from a jungle paradise?"  I explained and he sounded so envious. 

And as I was about to finish this post, and make a pot of tea, this happened 

A present from dear Mary! As you see, perfectly timed to appear on the teatable with English Breakfast tea and sharp cheddar, Yorkshire style.  

Thank you for all of it! So good. And the fruitcake is definitely staying here, despite being 40proof! Perfect afternoon tea doings. I love it.  And you.

Happy day everyone, let's do like Jimmy did in his long life! And I note that the country's flags will be at half staff throughout January and beyond. That includes the inauguration..

The strange ruggy thing starts to develop, and fitness Boud style. Late: a great man has left us

 I'm glad the bird stories amused you, so much more, but that was enough to pack into one post. My posts sometimes make me think of an overstuffed suitcase with all kinds of unrelated items sticking out. Which is pretty much a description of my mind, come to think of it.

Anyway I've been doing something or other with the Granny square project, which is getting big enough to warm my legs while I work.

I've tried various ways of incorporating the small squares, and keep having better ideas. It will eventually look like something. That's my story anyway. 

I also report that the dodgy hip might be healing finally. I quit the stretches when I suspected that they were irritating the tissue rather than healing, and I've felt better since. I'm still moving, out walking today in an amazingly mild temperature, in the 60s f. 

There were multiple skeins  of Canada geese wheeling about, all making a right angle turn right over me and heading to the next town. They claim this is migration, big fibbers.

Back home I did some walking backwards in the kitchen, beside the counter, nine steps along its length. This is supposed to rebalance your muscles and tendons or something, after the forward motion of walking.  It did help the hip, so maybe there's something in it.

And while I'm waiting for something in the microwave, I do the standing on one foot exercise. I used to do the tree pose, as near as I can get to it, but now I do two in one -- balance on one leg while doing the upper body thing. 

You hold up your hands shoulder high, palms forward, elbows out to the side,  and shoulders pressed back. This is great for unkinking your neck. I do this to reverse the effect of all the forward positions of crochet. You can also do this in a doorway, hands on the frame,then leaning forward. 

Most of my exercise is brief and focused, short attention span, variety required, no surprise there. 

Despite my plans I wasn't feeling like cooking today, maybe tomorrow. I plan on Tofu Masala, for which I have pretty much all the ingredients, from Yeung Man Cooking. 

And a new recipe for little crisp cheese biscuits to try, from Marion's  World. She uploaded it a year ago and I found it today. 

Also I'm making mayo, maybe this time I'll try chickpea mayo, from Yeung Man, just to see what it's like.  Such ambition.

Happy day everyone, when in doubt do everything. Then you have no regrets.

Late addition:

I just heard Jimmy Carter has died. There's someone who always walked the walk. RIP.

The GS goes on, shrimp happens and bird memories

Today, I think it's Saturday, I broke away from holiday leftovers and decided on the shrimp. Also found a frozen container of cooked rice and black beans. Cool. A couple of spoonsful of red chili oil livened up the rice

I cooked the shrimp in butter and olive oil, while I heated the rice separately. Then removed the salad shrimp and added rice to what was still in the pan.

The sprinkling of curry leaves suggests a stitch design, bonus. This is about a third of the rice and shrimp, one third for another dish like this tomorrow, and the rest of the shrimp set aside for a shrimp salad once I make some mayo. 

This morning I realized that when I ran the car yesterday,  I seem to have knocked the wipers into action, then switched off the engine. Last time I did a thing like this, I left the engine in drive and switched off. It drained the battery completely. So I hoped this didn't apply to wipers and went out nervously to check.

Two guys coming out of Gary's house with some huge piece of furniture wanted to let me by and I said no, no, figuring they'd got it balanced, it was heavy, they should keep the momentum. 

One said, wait, that's an Irish voice! Nope, English. But my grandmother was Irish. Whereupon he went off into praise of the UK, especially London and most especially Petticoat Lane.  Lovely chat, nice guy, checked if I wanted to leave he'd move the van, no, no, all good. Then we  all wished each other a happy New Year and they left.

Then finally I got in the car and no problem, it leapt into life. Tire pressure low because of cold snap, Gary, who also thought I was blocked, promised to inflate them.  So that was in the end a happy start in both senses.

I sorted the colors for the GS -- granny square, and decided this warm grey would be a good divider between sections, and I'll join all the various little squares with it, to unify the piece.

Like this.

About birds!

I had a series of birds, all rescues, from situations ranging from abusive to fairly neglectful. I didn't take parrots because they're too noisy for condo living. It drives the neighbors mad when they do their dawn and dusk flock calling. Screams, really.

But parakeets and my dear Emily the lutino cockatiel were resident chez Boud. 

Often people buy pairs of parakeets as presents, terrible idea, unless someone really wants them, so I ended up accepting them through various means, to give them a good home.

Now, parakeets in pet stores are often represented as young birds, when in fact very often they're old failed breeders. The females have not developed ovulation, probably from over breeding the line, and males are sterile, similar reason, or unable to mount the female. Many reasons for these situations, but careless breeding may be a big one.

So when I had them at home, no concerns about accidental reproduction, I only caged them at night for safety, and they flew about freely otherwise. Unless I had guests who were afraid of them, and it's surprising how many people are.

So when green Harriet,  the self appointed flock leader, such an intelligent bird, egged, I figured they were sterile eggs. She was the widow of Peter, hence the name, never egged before.

Until she and Opal, her beautiful turquoise and cobalt young boytoy, evidently not a failed breeder at all, produced a clutch of babies which Harriet cared for and kept jealous Opal away from.  I handfed her while she was caring for them until they fledged and joined the flock, now up to nine.

They were jewel-like babies, easy to find trustworthy homes for.  So I was back to three pairs. I thought I'd kept Harriet and Opal apart but bird mating can happen in seconds, even when one bird is free, one caged. It looks like a couple of little pushes, very pragmatic.

And so they had another clutch, and I found homes for them, too, with friends who owned a pet supply store and were very picky about who took their birds. 

Harriet was an artist, too, always ready to improve my work. Here's a detail of a large handmade paper piece I'd created as a final in my paper making course 

See all the bits pecked off the top edge? Harriet, her work.

Then Harriet died, she was maybe eight or nine, birds with poor beginnings don't usually live a normal lifetime. 

Poor Opal moped about his lost partner, but was soon very active on his perch. Innocent visitors would ask if he was okay, what was he doing so intently. Then wished they hadn't asked!

And there was Emily the lutino cockatiel, this is not her but you get the idea 

I found Emily in blazing sun, July, no water, caged at a garage sale. I asked the owners about her, found she was three years old, caged all that time, in a back bedroom, no toys, fed cheap wild bird food, and never made a  sound. 

I was so angry I said she's coming with me, offered them $20 for her, cage, any toys. They had no food nor toys for her, but after I made noises about reporting, looking at their other -- cared for -- animals, they accepted my offer. They must have been scared, because they could easily have got $50 for the cage alone. 

I made them give me a sheet to throw over the cage to protect her from the sun in the car, and water for her bowl. Then I left full of determination to give her a real life. 

On the way home I talked quietly to her -- birds tend to respond to women's voices -- and after a few minutes I heard that little conversational sound cockatiels make, sounds like "how're you?" So we talked all the way home. She knew.

I had to devise ways to teach her to fly, because her wings were weak from caging, and as she strengthened, she eventually bravely tried a flight off my hand, bit by bit, eventually making it across the room in one try. 

She would eat literally anything I offered, though lutinos can be very cautious. She trusted that I could deliver a decent seed, fruit and veggie menu. 

And she and kitty Boud, from whom I took my screen name, were friends. Emily would nibble Boud's nose gently, both on the floor, while Boud purred. For a bird to even be on the floor is a great trust action. Birds fly upward for safety at any threat. But Boud was no threat to her friend.

I had two other cats at that time, Annabelle, found in a dumpster and living like a queen now, and Vico, Boud's sister and twice her size. 

Annabelle took charge of notifying me of lost or stuck birds. Because they were out flying freely,  there were times a bird vanished. If a bird's in trouble,they go totally silent and still. Which doesn't help you find them. 

Annabelle used to come get me and indicate there's someone  stuck. One time I had to turn over a sofabed and found Mary, I think it was, widow of William, jammed into the spring underneath. She was fine once rescued, if a bit dishevelled. Annabelle earned her keep(!) as a Feline Birdkeeper.

Emily the cockatiel egged a lot once she was properly fed, and of course the eggs, in the absence of a male, were infertile. A visitor once said, but you could hatch all these eggs and sell the baby birds easily. 

I explained that a solo female can't generate fertilized eggs so no hatching, no birds. She insisted that every egg always had a baby bird to hatch, because you couldn't have eggs that didn't. 

When I explained the process of fertilizing, and how it needed a male,  she got a bit flustered. Especially when I pointed out that she and I could also ovulate without resulting in pregnancy. That finished her off, so uncouth to compare birds to humans. She concluded "You don't know much about birds!"

I saved Emily's final clutch, painted them, and they're part of my Easter display, here in a miniature teacup

Another time a friend and I were in the living room watching a couple of finches on a branch near the window, mating up a storm. I mentioned it was mating season, and she, evidently unaware of the show she was getting, said she'd seen birds touching beaks, was that how they mated. Well, just look.  She was a library director, with Ph.D.  Not in biology, I guess.

I think the birds are smarter than certain bird brained humans!

Happy day, everyone, keep warm, cool, dry whatever applies, rayez ce qui est inutile, and carry on.

Chop wood, carry water, finish yarn

Natural art happened early this morning. It's that time of year when early sun reflects off east facing windows across the street then back across to my west facing kitchen window and through to the living room.

So I get morning sun from the west, which amuses me every year. Here it's lighting up, among other things, some hand stitched ornaments Handsome Partner used to put on his little tree. A colleague of his made them. 

Today was chop wood, meaning peel and steam that big haul of carrots, carry water meaning realize I needed clean clothes and doing a load of laundry, also wash a sinkful of  dishes,  start engine, meaning run car a few minutes, she started lovely, and take out garbage. 

Also walk a bit, sniffing lovely cold wake you up air.  

Then home to a pot of tea with bread sticks and havarti cheese, courtesy of Handsome Son.

I caught up on podcasts while I finished that yarn, I think. I believe it was one skein.

But I think I'll continue the giant granny square a bit, because it's fun to do and I have colors that will work with it. 

I also have a stack of granny squares and pinloom woven squares which will work. 

I had a dream that one of my sisters gave birth to quintuplets. All dressed differently, she told me their names, and seemingly already toddlers! I was very worried in case I had to take over their care. Quite glad to wake up. Dreams are brain circuits criss -crossing I suppose.  

And I had a hilarious online exchange about avian reproduction, and what people don't understand about it. Which I'll expand on if you would like. It's pretty funny to anyone who's bred birds, as I have, though inadvertently. That's also funny. Lemme know if it's something you'd like to read, rather than tldr.

Happy day everyone, don't count your chickens..

And look who sent me Christmas greetings, the last of a wonderful presidency 

Sunny day after Christmas, freecycle sadness, and Boxing Day

Beautiful day today, in the 30s but sunny, and I made it out for a walk, on the sidewalk because everywhere else is wet snow or slippery mud. A downy woodpecker stayed ahead of me, pecking from tree to tree until some juncoes pushed in to see what was good. 

I'm getting pretty adept with Carol Cane now, but need a little practice cornering.  Pro tip: when you're holding Carol in your right hand and make a right turn, don't put the cane down in front of your right foot then find you're kicking it away. I didn't fall but I'm watching for that  cane-before-foot move from now on. Cornering is the advanced course. Possibly above my pay grade.

Home to German cookies and English Breakfast tea. 

And free cycle, which I often check into for comic value. Sometimes heartbreak

Read on, next line

Oh. 

Meanwhile one of my food suppliers clearly needs a break. This arrived

They rushed to correct this great message -- I particularly liked the insistence that if your account says different, it's wrong! Anyway I think they'll deliver at least in January.  I have leftovers to keep me going.

Meanwhile I hope they get a nice walk with birds flying on ahead. It's calming.

I'm now officially confused about what day it is, what with misfits arriving Tuesday instead of the usual Thursday, and Christmas being Wednesday. I think I'm up to Saturday.  Maybe I'll just crochet until I get it clear. 

I'm writing on Boxing Day. I saw a lovely little video about making a crafty little box from the cardboard tube from a tp  roll. 

I usually keep these tubes for storing my spun yarn, but maybe I'll make a box, why not. The alternative is to challenge Mike Tyson. I bet I could land at least one swipe while he's laughing helplessly at the challenge. 

I found a different, less fussy tp tube box idea, a pillow box. Five minutes fun including finding the glue, and smoothing out the chocolate snowman foil.

The glue dish is Rosenthal porcelain with sterling silver rim.  I have two others and they serve multiple uses beyond what I suppose their makers were thinking.

Moving along, have a happy day, whether or not you make stuff. Remember making fun of people counts, too.

Christmas Day is done, and it was good

 Our rather haphazard potluck worked again.

Two kinds of cheese, bread sticks, then ham, mushrooms, sugar snap peas, roasted sweet potato, baked sweet potato, with Colman's English mustard on the ham. Ginger ale and lime ginger cordial.

Then after an interval, German cookies, chocolate snowmen, eggnog, big pot of tea.

We divided the leftovers and after Handsome Son left, I fell into  a deep sleep, woke thinking it was Christmas morning (!) 

Our talk as always was lovely, about food and dog shows, politics, primaries, walking backwards, his memories of the Delaware Crossing on Christmas Days in childhood, local parks, food bank donations, self checkout, steamed clams, oysters,  Howard Johnson's, and more. 

Lovely day and it's almost over. Now to crochet. With a wonderful rendition of Vivaldi's Winter on period instruments, lovely sound. 

I do like early music played on early instruments, more than the piercing silvery sound of modern ones designed to fill a concert hall with sound. Vivaldi was composing for much smaller groups of musicians  in smaller places.

Happy day everyone, with your crochet equivalent.

Christmas Day here, as you read

Writing this on Christmas Eve, and I'd forgotten about Misfits, coming on a different day because of the holiday, their email reminded me to put out the packaging.

Looking exactly like a Christmas figure of some kind, crouching on the step.

And dear Haleem arrived exactly on time.

With a very small haul this week.  Apples are my morning snack, berries are often breakfast food with toast or dessert with yogurt. Carrots are vital staples, likewise extra black beans.

Earlier I'd been watching a flock of house finches feeding on the Russian sage, which I'd forgotten to cut back. 

Just as well, since there's evidently good food there, for cold weather birds.  I won't be too quick to clean up next year now that I know this.

We had more snow, enough for a,  more or less,  white Christmas. 

And one year when Handsome Son was small we took him to this Christmas Day reenactment of Washington crossing the Delaware. This was when he crossed from Pennsylvania into NJ on Christmas Day 1776.   Washington, not Handsome Son.

They headed for Trenton where his ragged, hungry bunch of farmers-turned-fighters, some with feet in rags, no boots, on December 26, routed the heavily armed and trained Hessians resting there.

Then they finished off the British troops at the Battle of Princeton in early January. These two battles were the turning point of the revolution, which had seemed lost at that point. 

It had been the lowest darkest point of the time, when trained and armed British and Hessian mercenaries seemed to be sweeping to victory.  But that's not how it worked out. 

This is worth remembering at this dangerous point in our history. There's always room for action and hope.

And for good wishes, and good works 

Meanwhile, happy day, enjoy whatever your day is. First time in ages that Hannukah and Christmas coincide, Kwanzaa always at this time.

Boxing Day already in the Southern hemisphere.

Two flying visits from Gary, one to see I was okay before he went out, later to get garlic powder and ask if I fancied any steamed clams because he had a lot nearly ready! Yes to garlic powder, no, not right now, to clams.