Life's a Stitch

I have this thing about serving lasagna, for example, or brownies. I cut them in neat straight lines. God help you if you cut on the diagonal or jaggedly in my kitchen. Is it my need for orderliness in a disorganized world? An excuse to eat just a little more to make it even? My family has quietly accepted this quirk.

Sitting at the dinner table the other night, eating corn on the cob, C says, "You know your thing about cutting in straight lines? I would never eat corn on the cob the way you do." I look at my corn, a couple of random bites taken out of the center. I look at his, neatly eaten like a typewriter, left to right. I'm surprised he doesn't say ding at the end of the row. He has a defined method of salting and buttering as well.

I view my husband as sort of a corn expert, growing up on a farm where it was grown. One of his family's stories involving his inviting a girl over to dinner and eating a dozen ears of corn. I wonder what she thought, this young man gnawing out a thesis of corn, typewriter style. And how have I lived with this man for nearly thirty years and not been aware of our fundamental corn differences?

So my question is simply, how do you eat your corn?

I have no corn pictures but this works well with corn. From my recent East Coast trip:

Mmm, mmm, mmm, I forgot how sweet Long Island steamers are. I'm sure there's some eating OCD associated with steamers. What parts don't you eat? How long do you swish them in the water to get the sand out? Lemon in the butter or squirted on top of the clams? I'll stop.

1975:

2010:

  

I don't know what it is about these pictures makes me so emotional. Rosie and I have known each other since 3rd grade and a lot of life has happened in the 35 years between these photos. Maybe that's it. All that potential, all that life experience. It's a bit overwhelming and I'm thankful we're friends. 

Holy St. Christopher, Batman, the plane only had 18 seats. Every seat an aisle seat and every seat had a window. Even the seaplane I've taken to Vancouver Island is twice the size.
That's what you get when you buy cash plus miles tickets. I figure the cash went to the real jet we had from Vancouver to Toronto and the miles were applied to the propellor job we took the rest of the way to a family East Coast trip. I momentarily considered a sitting meditative stance but I didn't want to unclench my intertwined hands or doubly crossed legs.
Half way into it, flying through yellow grey tinged storm clouds, the captain makes an announcement. Over the din of the engines I caught the gist. "Bad luck, folks……..bumps……..fasten seat belts." How do fluffy clouds produce such big bumps? I observe the pilot utilizing his "oh shit" handles. Comforting.
I've obviously lived to tell the tale, vowing different future travel arrangements, nerves assuaged by an astute sibling serving wine. Good times ahead. Stay tuned for
further vacation adventures. Apologies for IPad formatting difficulties.

I think I insulted the guys at my dinner table tonight when I commented that the sky was the best entertainment all evening:

Those were all in the same evening. It drove me crazy once, visiting Phoenix, where there were walls around single story homes. I need my distant orientation. My mountains and my sky.  

"Did I really knit you?" I asked Marina. Was I really capable of something so complicated? Where did my brain go? Was my vision good enough to digest that chart? Was it just five years ago? Scary. I've been working on this so long it's looking worn as a well loved teddy bear.

It took half a day to find the pattern, the yarn and to pick up the rest of the sleeve stitches. I'm ready to go, but haven't had a solid block of time to muster up the required concentration. My knitting devil sits on one shoulder tempting me to turn Marina into a vest. But the angel always wins. So far.

Today is Canada Day, the Canadian reasoning for a July day off, and off I'm taking. In fact, due to its proximity to the weekend, I took an extra day for a total of four days off in a row. As timing would have it, C has to work the same four days. Still looking forward to it.

My goal for Day #1? No must do's, nothing, nada. No laundry, no paperwork nor fulfilling obligations of any sort. A true day off.

My objectives in achieving that goal?

a. Invite an old friend to visit. Remember Marina?

As happens sometimes in life, I found that time, the wisdom of age and acceptance of differences has erased our major sticking points. I'm ready to pick up where we left off and that involved finishing a premature cutting of the steek to determine there was still a good fit: 

Only obstacle – I have to find the patten with my notes. Never seem find the two in the same room.

b. Spend a bit more time researching GPS's for my other pastime- geocaching. This is a complicated but enjoyable task given our Canadian location and standard maps available on American products.

c. Stay in my jammies all day.

So far, so good. Now I'm off on a pattern hunt.

Who says dogs don't smile?

Really, take a closer look. Click on that picture and tell me she's not smiling.

That's Gracee's new favourite game – Bocce Ball. We play by Gracee's rules, wherever she moves the ball, that's where we leave it for scoring. She's part of the family after all.

Father's Day, plus the lowest lobster prices I've ever seen, equals:

Can you believe that's my boy from this post just five years ago?

Instead of butter we made Thai lime dipping sauce:

Stir together the juice of 2 limes, 5 teaspoons of Thai fish sauce, 2 cloves of garlic, chopped fresh chili peppers to taste – the more the merrier (!). You know how you feel icky after eating melted butter? You don't feel that way with the lime sauce.

More spoils from Vancouver's Dressew's regular price of $1.99 a skein:

 

Blog followers, seriously, if you are in need of major stash enhancement, it might be worth the trip from afar. They have lots of Rowan, Regia, Nashua Handknits… Consider that an invitation.

What do these have in common?

A couple of ducks in sheep's clothing.

Another sheep, this time in wood.

Sterling silver and genuine amber. I like.

These are the spoils of nearby Geocache hunts, where you use a GPS to find hidden treasure. Don't now why it appeals to me so. Is it a genetic influence from the Corsican pirates of my Puerto Rican background?

I'm fortunate to have a BIL who indulges me by accompanying me on hours of these hunts, some in wickedly wild terrain. Unfortunately for him, though, he had more time this visit as C had weekend work and his wife, my poor SIL had to lay low, recovering from a terrible fall she had while she and I were on a knitting adventure. So off we went to the local wilds of North Vancouver:

The first clue was "This is the start of the trail, turn left and go up up up." Honestly, that was the trail behind me – the one with the fallen trees.  "Was" is the operative word here, the trail starting with a warning sign about unmaintained areas. I put on my brave hat and up, up, up I went, sometimes on all fours, crabbing my way hundreds of feet above a raging creek on a slippery slope, to peals of BIL laughter. We made it to the very top.

It was crazy. It was fun. It was unproductive in the geocaching sense. We didn't find the prize. My excuse? The car GPS makes a poor geocaching GPS. I should have learned from past experience (right, sister Jane?). That's my story… 

But wait, still enthusiastic from other decent hauls, and borrowing a quote from the Parent Trap, I had a scathingly brilliant idea. What if I buried a knitting themed cache, in my own front yard, and watched for like-minded geocachers? Turns out it won't be the first, I found six knitting based North American geocaches, but none near me. That's my goal, as soon as I borrow a more reliable GPS, I'm putting one together, with a special prize for the FTF (that's geo speak for first time find). Any takers? Log onto Geocaching.com soon and search for the Life's a Stitch cache.

 

Here it is, the Pavlova recipe that goes along with my previous post:

We have a local bakery that specializes in Pavlova, our favourite celebration wheat free “cake.” It is an expensive, but special treat. Although not quite as pretty as theirs, we were pleasantly surprised that this recipe resulted in an as good, if not better pavlova.

Ingredients:

 6 egg whites (without one smidge of yolk!)

1¼ C sugar

3t cornstarch

1t white vinegar

1t vanilla

Whipped cream (made from 1-2 C of cream)

Fruit for top – bananas, berries, kiwi

Preheat oven to 290 degrees F (a fully preheated oven will assure that there is no moisture present). Line a baking sheet with baking parchment. Draw a 10-11” circle on parchment.

Place egg whites in a large, dry mixing bowl. Beat until soft peaks form. Gradually add sugar beating thoroughly after each addition. Continue to beat for 4-10 minutes until sugar is dissolved. Fold in cornstarch, vanilla and vinegar.

Spread mixture onto circle marked on parchment. Shape evenly, running along edges and top with a flat bladed knife to achieve a smooth look. Run knife vertically up the edges all around (see photo). This is not only decorative but gives the Pavlova structure.

Bake 40 minutes until pale and crisp. Turn off oven and cool with oven door ajar. Top with whipped cream and fruit (recommendation – assemble and refrigerate just prior to meal at which it will be served).

Rowan Kidsilk Haze, Malabrigo Lace, Pavlova. I'm mixing knitting with food, two of my favourite things. No shame in that.  Do you know Pavlova? The Aussie dessert named in honour of ballerina, Anna Pavlova, light as a feather. It looks like a giant meringue, however it's soft on the inside, not crunchy all the way through. Not too bad for you unless you count the sugar and whipped cream 😉

Lucky us, one of our recent guests, Cassie, a genuine Aussie, made one for dessert:

 

Don't have time to post it now, the recipe will follow. Thank you, Cassie, and to your mom, too, for passing on her baking skills.