What's in the smoke?

I, admittedly, am dangerous around fire. I have the scars to prove it. A long time ago I swore off lighter fluids and have perfected the art of starting my charcoal fires using a chimney charcoal starter. If you don't have one - get one, unless you don't have a grill, then you don't need one. I have to thank my friend and colleague, Hal Forman, for introducing me to this miracle of fire. It is, first of all, a no-brainer. Secondly, it always works, as long as you can set paper on fire. I never use starter fluid. I don't like to use charcoal because of the benzopyrines, but I left my propane-fired, second-hand grill behind with the next-door Mormons in Germany. I think that is what I did. Maybe it went to Rita's along with the dogwood tree. Anyone with the answer is welcome to set me straight.

I have in my possession the beautiful royal blue Weber grill I bought on Easter Sunday at the Exchange at Vogelweh. It has a few more chips of enamel off the outside but all in all it is in great shape. In addition to that I have our CharBroil Smoker. Since moving to Pennsylvania I have been able to find all of its parts. That is what this blog is about. I am trying to learn how to use the smoker. Last week I shopped at the the market for the first time in many weeks. In the process I bought turkey burgers, chicken sausages, tuna steaks, butterfly pork chops and the buy one get one free specials - pork roast, London broil and chicken breast with back bone. A lot of meat.

For the Memorial Day feast I cooked on the Weber grill - the sausage, burgers, chops and tuna steaks. I forgot to mention the butterflied shrimp. I offered my honey whatever he wanted. He was a happy camper and had plenty to take to work in his lunch. It was really good I have to admit. Last night we had all the leftovers from the week. Today, after having read up on using a water smoker I fired up the CharBroil. Somehow I just kept remembering how much Harry and my mother liked using the smoker. I may be wrong, but I think that is why I bought one in the first place - because they liked it. I think I got this one from the Navy Exchange when we were in La Maddalena. I think I used it once. In the interim, being packed up and moved around, it got sort of bent out of round, so when I used it today I wasn't at all sure it was working right. But I fired it up anyway, following the instructions from various videos and descriptions I had watched and read on the Internet.

I put six chicken breasts and a pork roast in the smoker along with a pan full of water, vinegar, juniper berries, rosemary, thyme, summer savory, onion and apple. No particular "recipe" - just what I had on hand. After many hours of adding hickory chips soaked in water and coals I was not very confident that I was going to have meat that would not kill us when we ate it. To make sure it was OK I made up one last chimney full of coals and finished off the meat in the Weber grill. I think that eventually the meat would have been OK, but I was a worried novice. So, after testing each piece with the thermometer I concluded we were safe. I swooped them all into to the house and proceeded to carve. It was just yummy. I'm pretty ready to try it again, but know a lot more than when I started. One of the things I know - which I read somewhere, was to not hang out the wash before you start up the smoker. Only I forgot that and now Jay will get to wear his dinner to work every day until the next wash day. The price for being green.

Now I have all kinds of protein stored away for future use. One of my discoveries since moving here was the freezer in the basement. Kim cleaned it recently and we have fired it up. Seems it works just fine and now I have a place to store my future excess from the garden.

I have not met some of my goals set in earlier weeks, but one thing I have done is to make myself an outdoor haven to enjoy. While waiting for the last of the meat to come off the grill I sat back with a glass of wine and watched the mama Robin feed her baby in the spot we had just tilled for the herb garden. Tomorrow I will cover the tilled dirt - currently full of worms and goodies enjoyed by the birdies - with weed block plastic, and put in my herbs. I have actually grown Italian parsley from seed, and curly parsley and cress and cilantro. They are in the other garden but I am moving them to the home of the herbs where they will live with rosemary and thyme and sage - purple sage at that. My garden is a song.

So - as for what is in the smoke - there is learning, memory, smell, taste and a sense of satisfaction - along with anticipation of what tomorrow holds.

Helplessness but not hopelessness

I went out for coffee and a bagel this morning, as I sometimes do, to break the monotony of being at home. I go to the Coffee Express, a little hot spot in Pickletown, where large and small groups gather in the morning for meetings, chat and breakfast. There is a TV with closed captions that I usually watch because I am not a part of the Coffee Express crowd. It's enough to know the owner who is a friendly entrepreneur with a rather thriving business (she puts mustard on my bagel and sausage sandwich for me.)

I watched part of Good Morning, America with a crowd of people jumping and waving in Bryant Park in NYC. It is Fleet Week there and lots going on. There was some local news and weather, including an update on a 24-year-old Iraqi amputee who is missing in the Susquehanna River near York, PA.

I was suddenly in need of writing about my state of mind in general, and world events in particular, so this is what spilled out.

In the coffee shop
People jumping up and down on TV
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
A great wind just blew through Colorado
and there's sickness in Myanmar.

All around the people talking
Some choosing shade grown fair trade
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
Rain is pouring on the city
and there's no rice in Myanmar.

They just built another house in Louisiana
and celebrated with tears
The cameras have gone home now
and the city left behind.
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
There's no hope for those crushed in China
and no clean water in Myanmar.

I can drink the coffee black
and watch the people talk
There's a man missing on the river
His arms are in his boat.
I can't go to China, Colorado or Louisiana
or make them happy in Myanmar. (c) Patricia G. McKellar, May 23, 2008

Impulsivity and Good Works

I am beginning this with this photo because it is symbolic of how our hearts and mouths can get us into predicaments that are challenging. I am in an on-going discussion with Ellen about finishing projects. She admires me because I seem to be able to finish things and she finds that difficult for herself. I believe that I am an unreliable person that cannot be counted on to do what I say I will do. Because of that I hesitate to "sign up". At least that is what I think. I have a penchant for offering help and then becoming bogged-down in the execution.

My most recent example is offering to make covers for kneelers for the Chapel at the R-Ranch. The R-Ranch is a form of intentional community we have chosen for recreation and relaxation. The problem is that it offers me precious little relaxation. I have some skills and talents and even vision that others often lack. I think that is due to my environment, my experiences and the fact that I was reared with the rule "Can't never could do anything." So, in addition to making the rather rustic looking cushions for the Chapel I offered to also make a cover to be used at weddings. It is a lovely place for a smallish ceremony, seating only about 60-75 people. I could not imagine having a ceremony there with a kneeler at the altar rail that was covered with neutral and brown, woodsy colored fabric.

I shopped for fabric last weekend and found a nice white satin to cover a 66" X 10.5" foam cushion. I found that the piece I bought was not quite long enough and needed some "fiddling with." It has to be removable so it can be stored. That meant that at least one of the other covers has to be removable as well. And, to make them match, they all have to be removable. So that meant zippers. Zippers come in various lengths, and the nearest length I found was 72". See the problem? This is "growing like Topsy" as I used to hear my mother say. It is like taking one of those tiny little dried, compressed sponges that you drop in the tub with your kids and they swell into a 5 foot long fish that throws the kids out of the tub.

Last night I decided that I could sew a few more inches on the machine instead of doing the finishing touches by hand. I was going to be able to make the satin cover removable after all (that had been in doubt because of the length of the zipper). I put it aside until this morning. I felt good - like I was not in over my head. I went to bed, slept well and got up ready to do it right after cereal and coffee. It began to go well, but I kept going back over work I had done by hand, extending the amount of work I had intended to do. It is called perfectionism and not knowing when to stop, another thing of which I have been accused. Just go over this last little part to fasten it down - and BAM - the result in the picture! My machine is a slant needle model, not a curved needle model. I hit the damn zipper. I want to quit.

My discussion with Ellen has included her desire to write and not being able to finish, and my approach to writing. I have a topic. I start. I review. I try to limit it to the topic at hand and not digress. I check my spelling. This is a perfect example. This bent needle is characteristic of the things I run into that could make me quit-the topic. I have made a commitment to others, however, so am going to have to stick with it. Rather, I have made a commitment to myself-the real issue and body of the story. That is something else she has taught me. I don't do it for others. I do it for myself. To feel satisfaction about finishing what I have started. I have to go upstairs and get another needle. I have to get out of this chair and go upstairs and get another needle. I have to. I want to.

The coat of many origins

A number of years ago I lived in Germany with my sister. We had very little furniture as most of my furniture had gone to Italy with my husband for his house there. I got a job in Germany, instead of Italy, so the reason for no furnishings. So we set out to find things by going "junking". We were the recipients of living room furnishings that were to go to the street for junking but took a detour to our house instead. The coverings were fuzzy, old, cut velvet type stuff that was just UGH! And an awful yellow green color. While attending a flea market I happened upon a man who had bolts of flax and hemp fabric that had been hand-woven in homes in East Germany until the 50's when hemp was outlawed - I guess they thought it was marijuana. After the wall came down this man went around buying up the stockpile of this now very desirable fabric to sell to folks like me. I bought as much as I could afford. It was not very wide - about 40 inches - because of the size of the looms that could be kept in a house. These bolts were sold to the factories that manufactured the shirts, sheets, tablecloths and duvet covers for the masses. The weave differed, as did the weight of each. I was fascinated, of course, since this was such a treasure trove into the lives of people - just up my little anthropological alley.

My sister liked the stuff as well and we set out to make vests lined with wonderful fabrics from another treasure trove of fabric that I brought to Germany. I still have those upstairs in my closet and hope to finish them some day. However, as we visited other flea markets and fests and places we began to pick up other pieces of linen and coverings that Ellen decided to turn into a cover for the living room furniture. She worked like a Trojan, cutting and pressing and piecing and sewing. A few articles of clothing went into the work as well. In the end she covered a three cushion sofa, a chair and an ottoman.





But, alas, I had to return to the States, so I left all of that furniture behind with Ellen. She moved into an apartment and took the furniture with her. After a couple of years she had an opportunity to buy some really nice leather living room furniture, so she removed all of the covers from the furniture, packed them up and mailed them to me. I was overjoyed at her thoughtfulness but really didn't know quite how I was going to use the fabric. Last year we visited Spain together and in a shop I found a coat I really liked. It was quilted and warm and comforting. I was determined to duplicate it and to use some of the natural fabric that remained from the original stash. However, at some point it occurred to me that I should use the wonderful patchwork for it. I spent a very long time taking the piping off of the pieces and eventually had yards of it rolled up in balls, along with pieces of sofa and chair cover in bags and boxes. In the middle of this I moved - to a much colder climate. I thought I should hurry to get this coat made, so in January I visited Ellen with the bags and boxes and pattern so that she could help me put together the fabric to be cut into a coat. We again pieced and sewed and cut.

One of our cousins many times removed, Fran, visited while this was in progress. She is an accomplished quilter. Boy was that a blessing. She gave us many tips on how to move forward with the project. After I came back home I left the stuff to rest for awhile, but winter was still needing a warm coat. I drew all of the lines on the coat with disappearing ink and spent many hours quilting all of the pieces. I learned so much - mostly that I could do it. In the process I decided that I would sew the piping back into the seams. That was a great idea, until I started doing it. However, I had started it and had to finish. So, if you examine the pictures you will see the piping clearly. Sewing over those lumps took a thing called a "jean-a-ma-jig", a thingy Fran told me about.

One problem was preserving some of the characteristics of the original pieces. In the picture of the ottoman you will see a ribbon tied into a bow. That was originally a tie on a duvet cover. When we cut out the coat it was at the lower edge of one of the sleeves. When it came time to finish the coat the sleeve was about 6 inches too long and I, sadly, had to cut it off.

I loved that feature and am still trying to figure out what to do with it. There was some lace from a tablecloth that I have not been able to use yet. Perhaps they will be framed. If you have any suggestions let me know. One of the features of using old garments is that there are often flaws. The pocket on the left side of the coat has a very worn spot patched with another piece of fabric behind it. That pocket came from one of Ellen's old, comfortable dresses. In the back, where three pieces of fabric were pieced, there was a very big boo-boo, made by me. Ellen came up with the perfect solution when she found this big red button at a yarn shop in Roswell, GA (The Cast-on Cottage). I used cording and sewed it on. I'm just glad I won't have to sleep on that big lump.

So, the coat is finished. It is warm, but it is May. When Fall comes I will happily begin wearing it. I wish it fit better, as it is rather large in the lapels, but overall I think it is going to be great with jeans or other pants and my snow boots as I slog through the Pennsylvania weather to the Library and coffee shop in greater metropolitan Picklesburg.

Bird Count

I'm not really counting birds - but I am counting my blessings. Today I worked my buns off building a new "step" off of our deck. It is actually a temporary replacement for the very precarious footing to exit our deck to the yard. After I removed it from it's location at the exit from the deck to the back yard I discovered that the former owner had no reservations about burying his trash under the deck. While raking out dirt from a newly discovered concrete structure at the edge of the porch I discovered pieces of wood, lengths of pipe, some sheet metal somethings and - a pair of socks. One sock would have been no surprise, but two matching socks -that was really different. Of course, since I am such a "sock warrior" I was tempted to rush them to the washer but I resisted. What was a blessing was the fact that I built this new "step" from materials that I found in the garage. I also did some creative wood cutting with my old, but trusty, Craftsman Skil Saw. Even I was impressed after I ripped a 2X6 to the size I needed. And, I did it on the saw horses I had constructed myself. You should see my work - it's getting better, but I will admit that I am no pro.

One of the things I have committed to is making things plumb and level. It paid off today when I sat the new base for the step on the concrete "pad" and had very little to do to make it not rock and roll because everything was not square. It does make sense and you will not find me out carpentering without a level or construction square nearby.

After I had screwed the piece of "sub-flooring" that used to be the ramp onto the porch to the base, I began to clean up. I used to laugh at my nephew, Dwayne, because he could get out more tools in 10 minutes than I owned. Well, at the end of this job I thought I had him beat. I groaned when I realized that I had to put away two cordless drills, two sawhorses, a shovel, a SkilSaw, an extension cord, a hammer, nails, trash, a dolly, excess pieces of wood, two empty Coke Zero cans, the stuff for the compost pile, etc., etc. and etc. Because I am a one-woman show and have only two arms and one back I got most of it done but asserted myself and left the sawhorses on the back porch. Then I had to put out the trash and recycling. I did it! and collapsed into a chair to watch the birds. Thus the bird count.

I have been keeping track of what is coming to our backyard to feed. We have grackles, house finches, goldfinches, robins, doves, some pretty little grey juncos, a pair of cardinals - but, alas, no JAYBIRDS! Well, today my goal was reached when finally Mr. Jay showed up to eat. I felt that we now were complete - did I mention the squirrels and the rabbit? I am declaring that we are a Certified Wildlife Habitat - except for the deer and bears. I'm working on the butterflies and bees. We do have some of the big bumbles, but too few honeybees. I'm going to do my part though. I have lots of annuals to put in their flowerboxes, and some perennials on the way at the end of the month. Did I mention the garden? I figured out today that I have spinach. I am so excited. By the end of the week I may have a little crop of baby spinach to go with the mesclun that is bigger every day. So, not only is the bird count up so are my spirits. And - I can step down without fear. Please come for a visit.

Not so friendly Friendship Cake

Have you ever been presented with a gallon Ziploc back with about a cup of goo in it called "Friendship Cake"? Well, as soon as you took it into your possession the person who gave it to you breathed a HUGE sigh of relief. Sure, they told you "It tastes great! Just follow the directions for each day." So I took it, and kept it on the front seat of the car on my way home from Georgia. My problem was that on the day I was supposed to add sugar and milk and flour I was in a hotel room in Dobson, NC. Do you know where that is? In the middle of nowhere NC. So by the time I got home and dragged myself, luggage, dirty clothes, computer and cooler and the bag of goo I had mushed daily, into the house, did I care what day it was? NO.

The next day I added the three things needed, after I mixed up milk from the dried milk in the cabinet. I mushed for three or four more days until today when I discovered it was Day 10, or in my case, Day 11, and time to bring the "Friendship Cake" to fruition. I started adding things I didn't even know I had. First I had to add ingredients so the batter could be divided into four more portions to be foisted on unsuspecting "friends." Well, first, I don't have any friends in this town, or this Commonwealth, as Pennsylvania is called. I guess I could drive to Brenda's house in Allentown (I had considered visiting for a few days). But that wasn't even necessary I found when I started looking for four gallon sized Ziploc bags to put one cup of goo in. So I put all four portions in the old bag given to me by my "friend." Next, I had to add more stuff to the remainder of the goo. When it came to the cup of oil I took a bottle from the cabinet and let 'er rip. As I closed the bottle I thought "my that has a sort of nutty fragrance." I looked at the bottle and saw that it was oil saved from my deep fat fryer in which I had made chicken wings for husband's birthday in February. Oh well. It was too late now. I kept adding things until I saw that I needed a large box of instant vanilla pudding. What the H___! But, my cabinet even gave up two regular boxes of sugar free instant vanilla pudding. OK. My good fortune - until... The recipe called for the batter to be divided into two loaf pans and baked at 325 degrees for an hour. Well, I didn't have two loaf pans - and I had an appointment to get my hair colored in York at 2:30. It was 12:30 and it takes about 40 minutes to get there. So, I found four round cake pans and discovered I had to grease them and dust them with a mixture of sugar and cinnamon. This would be about the 3rd or 4th cup of sugar added to this stuff since Day 6. What friend would ever give anybody something that has that much sugar in it - added to the cup of fried chicken oil. A surefire heart attack in the making. So, I divvied up the batter into the four pans I dusted, and put them in the oven. I got dressed, ate lunch, and an hour later pulled the Friendship Cakes from the oven. They were about an inch high. I slapped one into an aluminum pie pan I found in the cabinet, left the others on the stove, and ran for the car. On my arrival at the salon I put the cake down on the front desk and the receptionist asked what it was. I said it was Friendship Cake and to prove it I had not brought them a cup of the batter to mush for 10 days and then try to figure out what to do with it. The receptionist said I was indeed a friend, as she had been through that one already. She offered me a piece with a cup of coffee. The owner got me the coffee and the cake never appeared, although one person told me it was really good. I wondered if they could taste the fried chicken in it. I gave another one to my neighborhood guys, but gave them no batter as they can barely make it to work on time and eat off of their grill in the back yard. Only two to go. New secret ingredient - fried chicken oil. Final word - only the Amish have the secret to starting the batter. I have the secret to ending the batter - it is going in the toilet.

Wonderful weather here

The most wonderful thing happened this morning. I laid in bed anticipating another day of yard work, after breakfast, coffee and bird-watching. Much to my surprise, and joy, when I opened my blinds to see the backyard it was raining! Yeah - I'm saved. I was so tired last night after doing-in almost two weeks worth of grass in the back yard that I could barely move. So, I took my towel, coffee and cereal out under the eaves, dried off a chair, and proceeded to watch the birds. All of the time my mind was on blogging and poetry. So, I think this will be a pretty long offering.

Update on the R-Ranch and the Butterfly Garden. I worked hard on it, raking out all of the winter leaves and old mulch, tying down the spent foliage on the daffodils, mourning the loss of a pink coneflower and the deer-eaten red tulips, putting in new plants and herbs and renewing the mini-nugget mulch for the season. Here is a picture as it was a couple of days before I left.

Update on the Spelling Bee - I did not win. I could have won had I not gotten cocky. I was third because I did not take the time to review the letters that had already rolled off my "smart" tongue - "pleur" for pleurisy. I left out the "i" and clearly pronounced "sy". I am still mad at myself. I should have won. I could have won. I would have had more attention, bragging rights and things to mess up my schedule. I did not feel a sense of relief; I was not embarrassed, only piqued at my "cockiness." We were not even into the difficult word list yet. And - I've had pleurisy. It hurts. This is the only way I would ever want to have it again - in a Spelling Bee. I learned a lesson. I liked the venue, and I do want to do it again. The winner and runner-up had to have been 15 years older than I. However, I did get a $20 Borders gift card. There is a book I have been wanting, so I feel fine about that.

Speaking of books, did you know that at the Dollar Store you can buy books for one dollar? They are the left-overs from Wal-Mart, etc. That's where I got the last Dunning book I read. Forgot to tell you that. Why pay more? Then I remembered the Library, where I pay nothing. Oh, well - so much for economy.

About poetry. I had a poem forming in my mind right before I came inside for a refill on my coffee. It was once again about rain and worms. I just love the way that worms come out in the rain. This was sparked by the sight of a bird flying by with a worm in it's beak. I'll give it some more thought.

The Garden - vegetable part. We delayed our recent trip to Georgia so that we could plant the seedlings I had grown. When I returned the other day I could see very little progress, and practically nothing that even the rabbit would have eaten. There is some tiny lettuce. My neighbor, Henry, has big bunches of stuff. I am tempted... It looks as if I will be getting plants from the highschool horticulture class to put in - at least the tomatoe, peppers and beans. I do have onions coming up. The good news is about water. Before I left I bought two 60-gallon rain barrels and got one hooked up to the down spout from the garage gutter system. The other is right below the downspout from the house and doesn't require a direct hook-up. Both were full so I was able to 1) hook up a hose and soaker hose and water the quite dry-looking vegetables (or non-vegetables), and 2) I was able to fill the watering can from the other and water the deck plants. I do feel a sense of accomplishment and feel quite "green". Today's rain will refill the barrels and there will be rain everyday for the next 10 days, according to the forcast. Next green project will be the solar power for the garage - in the green category.

The Garden - flower part. I have huge weeds with stickers on them. Part of the work today was to dig them out. Actually, it will be easier to remove them from the wet ground, so God did me a favor. The Shasta Daisy foliage must have tripled in size during the time I was away. I always wanted Shasta Daisies. I am thrilled about this. The peonies are getting big buds on them; I always wanted to have peonies as well. And-to my surprise and joy, when I returned I saw that the next door neighbor has a lilac tree that hangs into my yard. I love Lilacs. These are some of the redeeming factors about the house (I'm working on feeling more positive about it). I drove over to York for the Spelling Bee, and the whole area is blooming with every color of lilac, and I saw more pink dogwoods than ever down South. Another of my goals is to have a pink dogwood in my yard. I'm just waiting to determine the right spot for it. All the blooms make a big mess - like the double cherry in my front yard, but it is really a beautiful place. I can't wait until my new perennials are ready to put in the ground. They are currently being nurtured at the local highschool by the horticulture students.

Since it is raining, I cannot hang out laundry - which is a need. Back to the dryer. I will be able to work inside the garage, clearing away more dust, rearranging, hauling lumber up-stairs, and getting the stairway ready to paint. That is my goal before Jay returns from his latest trip - that and stripping the wallpaper from the upstairs bathroom and painting it. Thank God for rain.