Fishcakes, Maisie Dobbs and the Sock Ministry

Today was all rain with intervals of more rain. I used the last of the cod for fishcakes, the homemade kind with a lot of fish, not too much filler. 

Enough for two meals.

Served with a tomato salad and garlic scapes. No need for fancy sauces, just fish mashed with potatoes, an egg to bind it.  I do like fishcakes.

And the weather lent itself to reading and knitting, 

A Dangerous Place, a Maisie Dobbs novel by Jacqueline Winspear. I've read it before but it can stand a second reading. Set in Gibraltar and Spain during the Spanish civil war, at the time of Guernica. It's wonderfully written.

And knitting -- today I finished knitting and pressing the last sock of Pair Twelve of the Sock Ministry.  This last pair is the spiral design you've seen before but reversed, using the other side as the "right" side. It's pretty much reversible socks.

So I'll send off the package on Monday. I did send an email alerting them to socks incoming.

Then I'll get to a bit of stitching. 

Since I seem to be on a Hopkins Thompson thing, I'm picking up the DVD of Howard's End tomorrow. 

Keep dry! If you marched for human rights, thank you. If you donated to Ukraine, thank you.

Photo by AC

Long time no figs, and other shouts from the past

Ages since I made Figgy Snack Cake, and I've had great Misfits dried figs in the freezer for a while. So last night I got one package out and left the figs overnight in water to soften and shape up.

Which they did, then I hauled out the Melissa Clark recipe, which you see here, not to squint at in order to use, just to get the reference if you're interested.

 

Usual disclaimers: I don't have demerera sugar and couldn't be bothered to mix molasses with white as a sub, so white it was. I don't have brandy, so added in extra milk for the liquid missing.  None of these makes a discernible difference, to me.

So here's the dough in process about to have an egg added. After this, alternating flour mixture and milk, and it's done, a spreadable dough. This makes a ton of cake.

And you halve the figs, press them in cut side down. The whole container did it. You could use any sturdy stone fruit.

And since I noticed the oven temp needed was 400°f, just right also for a pasty, I put the cake in the oven, then rolled out a chunk of dough to make a chicken pasty.

The cake was in for 45 minutes, so the pasty went in for the last 20. Worked fine.  

The filling was the rest of the chicken salad I'd made using a fancy flavored spreading cheese I found at a terrific price in my recent grocery outing. Close to sell by date, but I planned on using it right away, it was reduced from 4.99 to .99 that is not a typo. And it's Rondele, a brand I haven't thought of for years. 

You forget these little occasional treats when you don't shop at Western supermarkets for years. Between farm and Asian store and Misfits, I'm a stranger in the supermarket. 

Not a sad heart though. Do you know Randall Jarrell's A Sad Heart st the Supermarket? Wonderful writing, wonderful person, gone too soon.

Anyway here's lunch ready to go in.

And the cake and pie a while later. Both pretty good. After the cook's sample, there are containers in freezer and fridge. We're caked to saturation point for now.

It's fruit and whole wheat flour, milk, all suitable for breakfast. Or any time really.

Which is good because I have plenty of stuff to attend to. This is the latest Maisie Dobbs, and it's excellent. Runs from 1940 to  late 1941 in Britain. 

Great complications of spies being smuggled into occupied France, French spies in Britain liaising with secret operations, you never knew who would turn out to be an agent. 

Historically accurate even to the fast running little schoolboys acting as foot couriers for MI 5, under bombardment, everything, incredibly brave little kids, news to me. But the author's father was one of them, so she can attest.

And since I'm ready to assemble these pieces any time now, I need listening material, too.

Turns out this will be my Martha Stewart skirt, it evidently being a MS pillowslip, nice quality cotton, drapes well.

So here's an Angela Thirkell, she wrote a lot and you think of the books as thirkells like a unit of currency. 

I can't read her much in print, but with a terrific narrator like this one, known under various names, Nadia May, Wanda McCarron probably because she did a lot of work, it goes well.

She is excellent, well worth finding. Great perception of the subtleties, knows how the rhythm goes, plenty of energy but doesn't draw attention to herself. 

Thirkell wrote comedies of manners, similar social context as Austen, Pym, Benson, very wry, gentle but astute. Great to sew by.

And here's an ancient one I put on my Kindle for old times' sake, classic advice to writers which I read long ago, as a kid, and even then the library copy was tattered. 

This is a bit of memory lane as much as a reading event. It's about writing without trying to impress on the reader how hard it is to write material that's easy to read. She realizes there's no need, they'll find that out soon enough. It's encouraging instead, what a concept.

The decks are cleared for the arrival of the Misfits box this afternoon, all being well.  Then it's a frenzy of washing and slicing and chopping and freezing. And gloating, don't forget gloating.

Blueberry Newtons, mitered knitting

Slow start, cool rainy Sunday, reading Maisie Dobbs An Incomplete Revenge, knitted another square 

while listening to p g Wodehouse audiobook, Galahad at Blandings, then finally had to get to today's task.

I started last night, making blueberry jam, ready for a filling. The idea is a fruit filled soft cookie, like Fig Newtons, but I had blueberries. 

Dough mixed, some reserved for topping, the rest pressed into parchment lined dish. The parchment is important here if you ever plan to get the finished product out again. Soft rich dough.

Base baked, now the filling is spooned in. I made a lot of jam, using all the blueberries, so there will be extra.

That extra bit I rolled out and kept in the freezer until ready to put the lid on. I had just guessed at the size of the top, because the rest of it was in the oven, couldn't measure.

When I peeled it off the parchment paper, it was exactly like taking handmade paper off the felt, same process, same attention to edges in order to retrieve it in one piece.

Pretty good guess about size. Now it all goes back in a 350°f oven to finish baking.

It better be good after this performance. Now it has to cool in the pan for two hours. Two hours. I'll have forgotten baking it by then.

I cut into it while still warm, no harm done and here's the result

And here's the extras

Jar for the neighbor who's driving me to my second vax, and one for home consumption. I had some for breakfast, on toast, pretty good.

This may be one of those recipes that turns out well, takes ages, you're glad you did it, you're not hurrying to repeat it.

And there are various versions of why Newtons, ranging from Isaac to a town in Massachusetts. That usually means nobody really knows. Probably some colonial Mom, Mrs Newton, making a treat for the kids to use the ripe blueberries. Oh no, that was me. It's supposed to be dried figs. But who's counting.

More snow, olive oil, soup, wisdom of Maisie

Another storm started this morning, and is now at the point where police are begging people to stay off the roads, at home, that is, since a whole lot of optimistic drivers set off this morning and went off the road in no time.  Impassable bridges, slippery corners, ditches, fill in the blanks.

But there's always soup.  Which reminds me, it beats me when I read other bloggers who complain they have nothing to write about! Because they're home, some even with families and pets.  How do they manage it? I seem to have enough ideas that I choose which to bother with each day.  Well, moving along here.

Last night I roasted potatoes for supper with a fried egg, comfort food, and put the butternut squash in at the same time, 400F for half an hour, so it was nicely done ready to use this morning.  The seeds are now flung out on the patio for the squirrels who love them. They're still warm, too, so they have a hot meal coming.

 

Butternut squash, cashews, carrot greens.  And the usual cast of assistant spices, kosher salt, nutmeg, turmeric, Old Bay, chicken stock.  I added milk powder after I'd blended, and it's definitely a good idea.

 This is my current Misfits olive oil, the best, lovely stuff, great flavor.  Which brings up a point: I don't agree that there's a cooking grade of olive oil.  Or of wine, come to that.  If you don't want to drink the sherry, why on earth would you cook with it? Likewise, people insist that this very high grade of oil is for finishing, for salads, and so on.  Yes, but I see no reason why I can't use it for anything else.  And that malarkey about the smoking point doesn't apply to soup.  So I use the best, and it's lovely.

 

And I like these people, too, note the instructions on storing it.

 And here's lunch.  It's very good, because I soaked the cashews overnight, better than a couple of hours.  And the color comes from the carrot greens, whose flavor works as well as carrots in this soup, I find. I don't think I'll ever get tired of soup.  Just as well, I suppose.  

This afternoon is Misfits Choice afternoon, where I Build My Box, as they grandly put it.  And where I get to choose salads greens, too.  Last night I dreamed I'd done it all, and the box had arrived, and I woke thinking oh good, I'll have a salad today.  Oh, wait, that was a dream only.

 Then there's the What Would Maisie Do book, which has quite a few helpful thoughts for meditating on, very a propos at this time, though the book came out before the pandemic.  And yes, everyone in the world is facing a change in circumstance just now. So it's worth thinking on this one.  It's like a fortune cookie thought, only it makes sense.

Plant detective alert and other vital issues

 This morning I was doing a bit of housekeeping on this plant, removing spent foliage

 And noticed this little sprig at the base of the plant. 

 

As you see, quite different leaf form, probably a hitch hiker.  But I'm wondering what it might be.  Anyone who can identify it, please do! 

 This plant has been in my collection since it came from next door's collection in late summer last year.  So I don't know what the origin might be.  Could be seeded from another of my own plants, except I don't recognize the foliage at all.  Or it could be an opportunistic weed plant which has lain dormant for who knows how long.  Or a baby tree, planted by squirrels when the plant was outdoors last summer.  My money's on a tree. I'm thinking of digging it up and giving it its own pot, to see what happens.

And, since I'm in contemplative mood, this is my latest book from the library, an actual paper book, with rounded corners, old fashioned diary style.  I don't know much about it, except that the writer drew on her own novels to find interesting paths to think about and maybe act on.  It came out a couple of years ago, but seems relevant right now.

And remember I was wondering about buying a tablet, then suddenly got a new phone? This is why. See the tape.

One of the governing buttons, the sound control rocker switch, fell off  the old phone somewhere, never noticed it was gone until I realized I couldn't change the sound levels at all.  All the internal screens end up directing you to the external button.  And I realized I'd better get a new phone in case the other, the on/off switch, went the same way.

So I did, and I use the old phone like the tablet I nearly bought, same functionality for my purposes, saved me quite a bit. I access websites and audiobooks, take pix, everything except phone and text. And the pix I take on here appear on my new phone anyway, all synced.

Then yesterday, I noticed a little metal thing on the kitchen counter, where I'd been using the old phone to take pix for blogz.  Thought at first it was a bit of tinfoil, nearly swept it into the garbage, then took another look.  And realized it was the other button, the much more important on/off one, which had fallen off.  I set it back in place, and to make sure it didn't get permanently lost, taped it.  It works just fine with this diy fix.  Too bad I didn't find the rocker (sound) switch before it vanished into the ether.

And I scrutinize the new phone, same design, frequently, to make sure its buttons don't go MIA.

And, on the subject of Other Clever Things I Did, I managed to get gas for my car this morning. Only the second tank since I bought it last March.  But the tricky bit is that I couldn't for the life of me get the gas cap open. The switch was awkward to reach, down left of my foot, impossible to see what direction to push or yank or slide or what. And I was wondering whether to get gas after the library and realized that the dopey gas cap control was putting me off.  So I decided I'd just do it.  And to my astonishment, managed for the first time to get it open without the aid of the impatient garage mechanic reaching past me and banging it open with a grunt of annoyance.  So now I can do that.

There was a slight hitch when I found I couldn't open the window because I'd turned the engine off.  I thought I could get the driver side window open without the engine on, but noooo. So I had to pay through an open door, gah.  Anyway, it's done for another four or so months! I have the econo setting for fuel on. Not exactly vital at this time.  

This Fit is well named, considering the fits it's given me in our short relationship to date.

Further medical adjacent adventures

 Nowadays it seems a good idea to have home medical stuff working.  I so rarely use my thermometer that when I saw this screen, saying L, I thought, oh, low battery, better do something about that.

 This entailed an enormous search for the tiny Phillips head screwdriver you need to get the microscopic screw out of the housing to see what sort of battery you may need to replace.  Success finally ensued, in the course of looking for something else.

So I took it all apart, and squinted at the battery to see what it was.  Noted. Trip to pharmacy to replace battery.  They didn't have it.  And Aaron, a lovely kid I always like to see, is a store clerk, not an electronics person, so he didn't realize they probably do have a modern equivalent with a different number.  So we didn't find the battery.

And then I did what I ought to have in the first place, I went online to find out what the L meant, and discovered it's not the battery. It means the ambient temperature. Meaning until you put the thing into use, it shows a low temperature.  Once you have used it, it shows your temp.  Ah.  So I reassembled it, and got this

A little bit high, after a bowl of hot soup, but clearly the thermometer is alive and well. So that was a fail that was also a success in a way.  I guess.

In other gripping adventures, the State health department emailed me to say you can go ahead and schedule a vaccine appointment, yay.  Overjoyed that they remembered I was registered, I quickly went ahead and went through all the hurdles, name, email, date of birth, etc., to get an appointment.

Nothing within five miles, which happens to include the large regional hospital right in my tiny town.  Whose website crashed on Wednesday noon, within two minutes of opening to offer appointments. I wonder if they innocently thought that the minute Biden was sworn in they'd have shipments of vaccine.  And who have taken down the form from the site, now operating again, because they have no further vaccine supplies to schedule.  

Nothing within ten miles.  Reaching out further, I checked the twenty mile radius. And found one location, in a county college, where visitor parking is a country hike from the buildings, three counties away, over some of the most accident prone highways in the state, a three hour round trip.  And they had nothing this month, nor next month, and that's as far as their calendar went.

Then there was a final screen saying, please keep checking, new locations and supplies expected soon...so I guess that's added to my schedule. Wake up, eat breakfast, check website, etc.  But I'm taking the weekend off, since nobody has any vaccine anyway.

NJ is being starved specially, I believe, because Kushner has a deep and abiding hate for us since Christie was NJ federal prosecutor, and caused Kushner senior to be jailed for some financial shenanigans. Before Christie was one of the most disastrous governors ever.  Current Dem governor Murphy still repairing the damage.  What's happening now with the Dem administration in Washington is NJ writ large.  

Kushner is probably the reason Christie was deep sixed by Trump, after hoping for the Veep job.  Not entirely a bad thing, maybe. Anyway, Washington flat out lied about supplies promised to NJ.  A tiny fraction of them ever appeared. We haven't even finished vaccinating first responders and medical personnel yet. Nor seniors in care homes.

Anyway, enough of the politics of health care, and I'm still perfectly well, and will try not to get too anxious about all the things that aren't happening.  I'm not a fan of looking at people who are worse off and feeling better.  That always seems to me to be a small spirited thing to do.  I don't feel better when other people are worse off or sicker or poorer.  I feel responsible for figuring out what I can do about it. But the idea of counting your blessings and comparing them to people who have fewer, no, that's a mean little attitude, to my way of thinking.

And there's always reading and spinning and other things.  

My latest reread was Maisie Dobbs, this one about an artist in the era of World War I and the surrounding politics and mysteries of the time.  As always, Winspear is worth reading.  In fact I reread her.

 Next reread is a couple of novels by Penelope Lively, which I've got on Hoopla, but can't transfer to Kindle, which I really like better for reading, but still, it's available, so that's fine.

It's cold, windy and just the weather for indoor exercise then reading, all wrapped in blankets. I'm getting quite fancy with my scarf flinging.  Now I'm doing figure eights with my arms, and generally thinking I'm all that. I might start naming the moves.  The Infinity!  The Double Silk Jerk and Drop! The Perpetual Motion!  It's really good upper body stuff, vital when you spend time knitting and spinning and doing the sorts of fiber work that tenses up your shoulders and arms without your knowing it.

And last night I dreamed about embroidery and discussing the Robe of Many Colors.  A big step up from dreams of fear and abandonment and being lost in a strange town and it's getting dark.  I'll take it.

Bring a Torch Jeanette, Isabella

 Do you know that old carol?  We learned it at school.  It's about bringing lighted torches, to see the stable and visit with the baby in the manger.  Here's an elf all ready to make his way there.

And reading is gripping this Tonstant Weader (Dorothy Parker, in case you're not familiar), with yet another Maisie Dobbs, on Kindle via my library app

She's in Gibraltar at the time of the Spanish Civil war, intrigue, murder, spying, her own grief to deal with, a very exciting and moving read.  Guernica features.  In fact I had to stop there this morning, overcome by that.  The huge Picasso masterwork based on that atrocity was almost too much to deal with. I saw it in Washington, I believe. I think it's now housed in the UN building.

I knew Spanish people, refugees from Franco's Spain, outlawed by his regime, when I was a kid in England. Along with all the Poles, Latvians, Lithuanians, Estonians, and later Hungarians.  The Spaniards were from Barcelona, an outpost of anti Franco resistance.  They couldn't return until he died.

 Of atrocities, the surprise attack by Italian and German bombers on Guernica, the deliberate slaughter and complete destruction of a small unprotected Spanish  town with women and children out in the marketplace, clearly visible to the bombers, in a supposedly neutral country, ranks as one of the many unforgivable. After I recover, I'll continue reading.

And here's the second part of the Shanghai Girls novel, thank you Ellen, for mentioning it, or I might not have realized there was another part.  This is gripping enough that when I started reading yesterday morning, I put my breakfast toast into the toaster oven, and completely forgot it, so there was a nice piece of buttered charcoal for breakfast.

Here, Joy, the daughter in the Shanghai Girls book, goes to China in a quixotic mission to find her real father, having suddenly found out the person she thought was her mother is her aunt, and the person she thought was her father was no relation, though he cared for her as his own.  And Pearl, one of the Shanghai Girls, her aunt, not her mother, goes in search of her, risking the dangers of red China and the chances of never being able to return.  Neither of them has any idea what China has become, since the American newspapers were anti Communist  propaganda more than news at that time.

Then, in better news, today was the day of the Great Pickup of The Holiday Box Lunch at the town hall.  And it turned out to be very good indeed, well organized, freezing cold Recreation Dept staff out there in the parking lot, checking, running, picking lunches, delivering to drivers, all very cheerful despite the bitter cold and threat of snow.

I've already emailed a huge thank you to all of them.  The police department has undertaken to deliver meals to any seniors who can't get in to pick up, sometime this afternoon. The meals were handed over hot, and only needed a bit of reheating once I got home.  I had thought about doing another errand before I went home but changed my mind, which is good, because the weather changed dramatically.

Veggie lasagna, from a good local caterer, enough for two meals for the likes of me,   As you see, tomorrow's lunch on the left, today's on the right.

And a chocolate chip cookie!  My tax dollars well spent today, anyway. Very happy senior here.

 And as I was almost home, the snow, forecast for today, was just starting.  Home before it got underway.

This afternoon is about being under a warm blankie, reading Maisie and maybe Joy, too.