Surf's Up at the Lake

Hey Peas,
The lake is once again full from the spring rains and it is time to get the Woody out of storage for another year of surfing on the lake. The constant winds through the valley make medium swells that are easy for an oldie like me. Charlie, our Golden Retriever, is once again excited at the prospect of riding in the old Ford. Windows down, breeze flapping his ears in the wind, as we motor around the lake looking for the perfect spot to hang ten.Last year Charlie's friend Pete came for a visit over the 4th of July. They had all the female dog hearts a-twitter.
This year, Pud, our tabby cat, has shown an interest in joining me on the lake. Hubby has set the surfboard up on horses in the garage, in front of a large standing fan (for wind effect), so we can practice every afternoon on our balance. Coming along nicely.
Well, it's been b*tchin' and I would love to sit and chat, but I need to get a Chinese wax job (wax on the bottom) on the board.
SF
April Fool You All!

Top of the Morning……………..

.........and the Rest of the Day to You.
That is what my Irish father-in-law would say every morning to his family. So on St. Patrick’s Day, I say it to all.

The pics are of a wee folk Charlie and I spied this morn on our walk through the woodlands.

We spied him several times and Charlie very nearly had him.

But alas, we could not capture him. Nor did we see a leprechaun or his pot of gold.

But just once, off in the distance I do believe that Charlie spotted one.
Anyway, I just dusted my Ginger Cake and have put my Brown Soda Bread in the oven. Later I will start my beef stew and freshly grind some coffee beans for tonight’s Irish coffee. And trust me, no Irishman worth his weight would be caught dead using anything but Jameson’s whiskey in their brew.

But let me digress and embarrass my youngest Sweet Pea for a moment. When she was around four, I taught her a little Irish ditty. She had the brogue down perfect. I hope she still can.
Perchance she remembers?

Ahem!

Ahem!

Me mother has gone to church.

She told me not to play with you

because you're in the dirt.

It tisn't because you're dirty,

It tisn't because you're clean,

It's because you have the whooping cough

and eat margarine!

And, I give you my favorite poem by William Butler Yeats:

THE HOST OF THE AIR

O’Driscoll drove with a song
The wild duck and the drake
From the tall and the tufted reeds
Of the drear Hart Lake.

And he saw how the reeds grew dark
At the coming of night-tide,
And dreamed of the long dim hair
Of Bridget his bride.

He heard while he sang and dreamed
A piper piping away,
And never was piping so sad,
And never was piping so gay.

And he saw young men and young girls
Who danced on a level place,
And Bridget his bride among them,
With a sad and a gay face.

The dancers crowded about him
And many a sweet thing said,
And a young man brought him red wine
And a young girl white bread.

But Bridget drew him by the sleeve
Away from the merry bands,
To old men playing at cards
With a twinkling of ancient hands.

The bread and the wine had a doom,
For these were the host of the air;
He sat and played in a dream
Of her long dim hair.

He played with the merry old men
And thought not of evil chance,
Until one bore Bridget his bride
Away from the merry dance.

He bore her away in his arms,
The handsomest young man there,
And his neck and his breast and his arms
Were drowned in her long dim hair.

O'Driscoll scattered the cards
And out of his dream awoke:
Old men and young men and young girls
Were gone like a drifting smoke;

But he heard high up in the air
A piper piping away,
And never was piping so sad,
And never was piping so gay.

And it wouldn’t be St. Pat’s Day without a good laugh, so I give you a favorite Pat and Mike joke of hubby’s.

Pat met Mike outside church one morn with two blackened eyes.
“Pat,” asked Mike, “Whatever happened to your eyes?”
“Well,” say Pat, “You know the widow, Mrs. Murphy?”
“I do,” says Mike.
“Well,” says Pat, “She was in the pew in front of me, when we all raised and her dress stuck in her crack. Seeing her great need, I released it. And she put out me eye.”
“But Pat,” asked Mike, “Whatever happened to your other eye?”
“Oh,” says Pat, “Being the gentleman that I am, that happened when I put it back.”

So in closing, we will be watching The Quiet Man tonight (If you can find a copy of Maurice Walsh’s Quiet Man stories, you will get an understanding of the Irish). Over the weekend we will be watching Waking Ned Devine. If ever a movie proves that a ‘b*tch on wheels’ gets hers, this is the movie.

And I leave you with, The Parting Glass……

Of all the money e'er I had,

I spent it in good company.

And all the harm I've ever done,

Alas! it was to none but me.

And all I've done for want of wit

To mem'ry now I can't recall

So fill to me the parting glass

Good night and joy be with you all

Oh, all the comrades e'er I had,

They're sorry for my going away,

And all the sweethearts e'er I had,

They'd wish me one more day to stay,

But since it falls unto my lot,

That I should go and you should not,

I gently rise and softly call,

Good night and joy be with you all.

If I had money enough to spend,

And leisure time to sit awhile,

There is a fair maid in this town,

That sorely has my heart beguiled.

Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips,

I own she has my heart in thrall,

Then fill to me the parting glass,

Good night and joy be with you all.

Slainte,
SF

Pre-St Patrick’s Day Recipes

Here’s what on the menu for tomorrow night’s dinner:

Smoke Cured Salmon on Brown Soda Bread
Guinness Beef Stew
Champ with Peas
Ginger Cake
Irish Coffee

I wasn't going to provide the recipe for the stew, as most of the Sweet Peas are following a vegan or pescetarian (gussy-upped sort of oxymoron word for fish eating vegetarians) diet. However, I decided to add a link because I feel it can be adjusted for non-meat eaters. I also added butternut squash and substituted rutabaga for the turnip (I hate turnips). Please read the reviews of this recipe about the broth cooking away. I intend to make mine in a crockpot to solve that problem. You would follow the recipe, sauteing all the veggies instead of the beef. Then toss it into the crockpot to simmer.

And as to the Champ, I add a package of thawed frozen peas at the end. Sometimes I make the Champ with diced sweet onion sautéed in butter instead of the boiled scallions. I cook the package of frozen peas in the milk and add the onions, peas and milk according to the recipe. Talk about comfort food!

And here is a recipe, passed down from generations of hubby's family, for Irish Ginger Cake:
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
½ cup butter
¼ cup unsulfured molasses
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teas. ground ginger
1 ½ teas. baking powder
½ teas. baking soda
pinch of salt
1 egg, slightly beaten
½ cup milk, warmed

Combine brown sugar, butter and molasses in small saucepan; cook over low heat until sugar is dissolved. Cool.
Preheat oven to 325°F. Grease and flour an 8 inch, square cake pan (do not use a flimsy aluminum pan); set aside.
Sift together flour, ginger, baking powder, baking soda and salt into a mixing bowl. Make well in center. Add cooled sugar mixture; mix well. Add egg and milk; continue beating 3 minutes. Pour mixture into prepared pan. (This can also be done with an electric mixer.) Bake for 45 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean. Let cake stand 5 minutes. Loosen from pan; turn out onto wire rack to cool completely. Place cake on serving dish. Dust with powdered sugar.
Note: This may also be made in a round cake pan. When completely cooled, I place a fancy paper doily on top of the cake and dust with powdered sugar shaken thru a sieve. Carefully remove the doily and serve.
Or you can try the optional Lemon Butter Icing:
3 tblsp. soft butter
1 ½ cups powdered sugar
1 tblsp. fresh squeezed lemon juice
Beat together the soft butter, sugar and juice to make a spreadable icing. Coat top of cake. Serves 6-8.

Well, that’s enough for now. Tomorrow I will post some anecdotes and poems for the occasion.
Tis,
SF

Beware the Ides of March

I guess we all know how that Ides thing worked out for Julius Caesar.

But actually in Roman history, this was the day the ancient Roman’s celebrated with military parades and toga parties (think National Lampoon's Animal House) in honor of the war god Mars. I can’t see myself celebrating war, but I will say a prayer of thanks in support of all our men and women who serve.

Anyway, it is still raining here in soggy PA, but on a more cheerier note, my tulips and daffodils are awakening from their winter sleep. Also the ice has finally melted on the lake, so the migrating water fowl are having fly-ins 24/7. And I have started my San Marzano tomato seeds. If you ever have the opportunity to have sauce made from these ruby jewels, by all means do so. I am hoping that this year’s growing season will be better than last. We had way too much rain and many vegetable varieties suffered from blight. Mine included. So this year, although I try to maintain an organic, pesticide free environment, I will be treating both the soil and plants with a fungicide. Well, need to run. Laundry and shopping day.

Later,

SF

Parades & Sweet Pea Explanation…….

What a dreary day here in PA. Most of the St. Pat’s Day parades were cancelled due to heavy rain and high winds. Not to mention flood warnings. Cripes! All we need now is a horde of locusts.

But back to the parades. If anyone has had the good fortune to see a coal region St. Pat’s parade or the one in Philly on New Year’s Day, you probably heard an Irish mummers string band playing “I’m Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover”. One word of advice; Never go to the New Year’s Day mummers parade with a hangover. Enough said!

Anyway, one of my Sweet Peas asked me about their pecking order, so here’s an explanation.I tend to put them in numerical order by gender and age rather than lineage. Isn’t that a great old word? I think I’ve been reading too much Jane Austen of late. So here are two clarifications.

My personal pecking order has the oldest Sweet Pea in Boston. Next is the latest transplant to Philly. Next has been in Philly for a few years. And the last, residence flexible.

In terms of lineage, the oldest Sweet Pea is addicted to knitting. The next is ‘working on the railroad, all the live long day’. The next I believe may be a crafter……with beads??? The last is a talented shutterbug. All of them thoroughbreds to boot!

If you scroll back to one of my previous posts, you can see a pic of them when they truly were my “little” Sweet Peas.

And it is the male heir to the throne that owes me a few yardsticks from back in the day when he was pretending to be a Transformer or Mutant Ninja Turtle. Kept forgetting to turn the yardstick before trying to run thru a doorway. It’s a wonder he still has both eyes or didn’t impale himself.

In a few days I will post some recipes and anecdotes for St. Pat’s Day.

So in closing, here are the lyrics to Four Leaf Clover:

I'm looking over a four-leaf clover

That I overlooked before

One leaf is sunshine, the second is rain

Third is the roses that grow in the lane

No need explaining, the one remaining

Is somebody I adore

I'm looking over a four-leaf clover

That I overlooked before

‘Tis,

SF

It’s March 12………Seraphina’s Day

One of my volunteer jobs is to make dog collar scarves and catnip toys to sell at fundraisers for our local SPCA. There is a patron saint for those who sew and her name is St. Seraphina. She had a most awful life and here is a short bio……..

St. Seraphina was born in San Geminiano, Tuscany during the early part of the 13th century. She was said to be a very pretty girl with a generous nature. She would save half her dinner and give it to someone poor in town. After her father died, she helped her mother sew and spin to support themselves. She frequently made clothing for the poor. At a young age, she contracted a debilitating disease that left her limbs deformed, with any movement causing unbearable pain. She was confined for six years to lying on her side on a wooden plank. Left alone for long periods every day, she had few visitors because her open sores kept people away. After her mother died, a kind neighbor did look in on her from time to time. But mostly she was left to suffer alone. She was told that St. Gregory suffered from a similar affliction and she became devoted to him. It is said that he visited her in a dream and told her that her suffering would soon come to an end on his feast day, March 12. And as foretold, she passed away March 12, 1253. Many miracles claim to have occurred as she lay in state which led to her sainthood.
Seraphina has become the patron saint of those who are paralyzed or physically handicapped. She is also the patron saint of sewers and spinners.
So today, March 12, I celebrate her feast day.
SF

Latest Recycling Light Bulb Moment

Monday is glass, plastic and cardboard recycling day. As I was sorting things this morning, I had one of those “BING, the light bulb lit” moments. Thanks to Winter Foliage’s recycling efforts I now have spice bottles.
I buy my herbs, spices, baking supplies, at the bulk food store down the street. They come in plastic containers that are strong enough to reuse for leftovers or in the freezer. However, the lids are so tight-fitting that just this week I went to open one and found myself wearing smoked paprika. I had on a white tee-shirt at the time. Need I say more?????
Anyway, I now have easy to open and close spice jars recycled from small horseradish bottles. I have enlisted my neighbors into saving them for me also. Being Russian, they go through a lot of horseradish!
And to my Sweet Peas:
Sweet Pea # 1…How is C doing?
Sweet Pea # 2…Hello? Helloooooooooooo?
Sweet Pea # 3…Loved the slideshow and we are scouring the Inquire for pics.
Sweet Pea # 4…You still owe me three yardsticks!
Oh, and when I get pics, I have some vintage clothing that the female Sweet Peas may be interested in.
We are having a gorgeous spring-like day here in PA and I plan to fully enjoy it.
SF