I'm Dreaming of a Ice Glazed, Snowy, Wintery Mixed Christmas...

It is early Sunday morning, a week before Christmas, and I am sitting in the kitchen anxiously awaiting the ‘wintery mix’ I have been promised by our Doppler Radar Weather People.

this was taken at the beginning of writing this post

For those of you unfamiliar with weather patterns here on the Coast of Illinois – ‘wintery mix’ is not a delicious chocolate blend but more of a disastrous coating of freezing rain, covered by  about 4 hours of beautiful snow which is then topped with a final coating of sleet. This can occur in no particular order but is ALWAYS topped with that freezing icing of…ice.

It is a Parfait of Precipitation.

Which nearly always occurs on Sunday afternoon leading into Sunday night and concluding on Monday morning about 7 minutes before rush hour.

The threat of this sends ordinarily sane humans into frenzied French toast chefs, leaving grocery stores ransacked of all bread, eggs and milk. Which seems like a ridiculous supply list.

Personally, I opt for popcorn, soda, a nice bottle of cabernet and bologna.

The fact that this particular storm threatens to hit on the next to last weekend before Christmas is just a cruel reminder by Mother Nature that the most important part of the holidays is not the perfect gift but being trapped in the house by six feet of ice…with loved ones ….

However, around here, the most important part of the holiday this year is the addition of Chrome Boy – better known around the Christmas Tree lot as That Tacky Silver Tinsel Tree with Color Wheel which graced many homes back in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s.

Every year Rob tells me about their tinsel tree with color wheel. And every year I cringe and give him my best Charlie Brown ‘Good Grief!’.

But thanks to the artificial intelligence of on-line shopping and the miracle of instant delivery, I managed to find both a small tinsel tree and color wheel for less than the typical ‘retro-vintage’ price.

It was delivered secretly to my parents’ home where I picked it up after work late one night, then hastily put it together before going back to work in order to surprise Rob. 

He was appropriately surprised and excited and now ‘Chrome Boy’ lives in the Tiki basement, decorated with random left over ‘vintage’ style ornaments and topped with Santa Pirate.

Which, in a nutshell, is our decorating style.

Ho Ho Ho!

And why I love seeing other people’s holiday pictures. In our little circle we have the traditional decorators, the elegant decorators and then there’s us, the eclectics.

our more traditional tree

Each is beautiful in its own way and works so well for each individual. There is no way to compare.

Yet, with all the hype of the holiday season, the Hallmark vignettes, the Pinterest suggestions, the emotional blackmail, it’s easy to fall into a psyched out, frenzy of overblown perfection driven crazy.

I have been there.

Every year I visit the land of Holiday Hysteria at some point.

This year it was the day the nose piece broke off my glasses forcing me to work two shifts with crooked bifocals, giving myself a migraine with accompanying nausea and culminating in a day spent walking around the house in my Jackie O prescription sunglasses while waiting for the repair place to call with my newly reattached nose piece. Thanks to the vision disorientation and dizziness I couldn’t do anything but sit on the couch and enjoy the ornaments sitting at the perfect diopter distance away from my stigmatic eyeballs.

This just happened to be the goofy shepherd ornament we made with the kids for Sunday School. I can’t even remember how I managed to sew up 24 of those little bodies to be stuffed and dressed by 24 tiny pairs of hands. They are silly and sweet, and both of our kids love them. And although they weren’t able to help decorate the tree this year, I made sure their favorites still made the cut.

Especially these little shepherds.

pretty sure all shepherds smile like this

And as I sat, trying to focus on just one thing, I remembered the delight in our daughter’s voice when she found the shepherds this year. And the laughter as the kids talked about holidays past.

And those immortal words of Dr. Seuss came to me, as they do every year:

“It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!  Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store…Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more…!” 

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Whether your holiday is shiny and bright, or quiet and still, may you be surrounded by the people who make your heart swell!

Happy Happy Holidays from the Coast of Illinois

                                        

And ps – We have FLAKES!! The first layer of Wintery Mix is beginning!

note the lovely, sparkly ice crystals

 

Flamingos and Light Hats

Wow.

Is it really January 22?

I swear I have not seen the sun in 21 days. I was just about to go on Amazon and search for 'stylish light hat'. 

except for the lack of ice, this bleakness truly belongs to January

It has been such a dreary January, I was actually sort of looking forward to the ICE STORM of the CENTURY which was predicted for our area last weekend. Even that was a thankful disappointment, leaving only a treacherous coating of ice on the deck which I walk across every morning in my robe and snow boots to feed the birds. I make quite a picture on a good day, but add in the slipping and flailing and well, good thing Rob doesn't have a good camera on his phone... Today a pale yellow sun actually shined down for approximately four hours and it was warm enough that, wrapped in a sweater, I ate my lunch on the deck while JoeyKatt monitored the perimeter for stray chickadees.

What a welcome change.

Which is how the New Year always hits me.

Fresh, clean and ripe for change.

I was hoping to make my Word of the Year 'fulfillment'.

As in, fulfilling those things I keep saying I want to do: write daily, exercise daily, lose fifteen pounds, read more...

But the Universe put a great big International Symbol for NO on that plan by hitting me with several weird, random nearly anaphylactic episodes.

This has resulted in the realization that I am a terrible patient. Even though I have spent over half my life as a nurse, I have been depressed, tearful, angry, obstinate, pissy, anxious and did I mention pissy?

Today has been a good day. Thanks to the sunshine, breakfast with the family, enough anti-histamine to send a meth-head to Walter White Mountain.

I have been doing yoga nearly every day. And if you count writing in my food log, that writing thing is back on track...

I have so many things to bring back to the Coast of Illinois – more of the Keys, a new 'floating' project, some interesting books – I think my new Word of the Year will be:

Hopeful

I am hopeful that I will get back on track with the writing.

I am hopeful that, thanks to the evil diet I am following to prevent more Stay-Puft episodes, I will lose that last 15 pounds before this summer's vacation.

I am hopeful that the two story pile of books on my desk will decrease before that poor bottom book becomes nothing more than a crushed piece of cardboard.

And after watching the streets of St. Louis, Chicago, New York, The World, fill with women and men of all colors and creeds to peacefully bring attention to the need to protect women's/everyone's rights, I am hopeful that we, as Americans, can come together to facilitate change in a peaceful productive manner.

Happy New Year

from

The Coast of Illinois

Harvey would like you to know that is actual greenery sprouting behind him. Not some terrible end product of a distressing GI illness.

And This is What Cabin Fever Tastes Like...

It has been a slow January here on the Coast of Illinois.

This is a good thing.

Slow means little to no bad weather requiring no extra hours donning five layers of clothing, scraping cars, stocking up on french toast supplies. Slow also means no one has been sick, despite the discount quality of the flu shot I am manditory-ly required to take every year. However, slow has the added quality of complacency.

It has become my new pastime.

I am raising sloth to an entirely new level.

I think I may have finally cracked....because today I made cheese.

Yes.

Cheese.

Thanks to Mark Bittman and his 'How to Cook Everything' book I thought it sounded like fun. (I am clearly a victim of loca-vore, all organic, DIY peer pressure.)

I blame the media.

Truthfully, I blame my lack of original breakfast ideas and thought maybe homemade cottage cheese might fill that void.

I think the rest of my family, including the cat, would prefer I just buy pop-tarts.

Anyway...it is another grey and rainy January Sunday, there are no ridiculously bad movies on SyFy, I can't seem to focus on anything else productive so cheese making it is.

The required stuff:

Que the Benny Hill Theme Song...

1/2 gallon good quality milk (I went with Oberweiss Dairy 2% from our new organic grocery-Fresh Thyme)

1 quart buttermilk (Fresh Thyme didn't have organic so I went with Prairie Farms as my cousin works for them and he is very nice, and clean.)

One ridiculously heavy pot (Which was a gift from my son. One day I will be too old to lift it but I love it anyway, even if it eventually kills me by cracking my skull when I pull it off the top shelf of the cupboard.)

One strainer (More on this in the caption.)

Cheesecloth (which Target sells! I had no idea and only halfheartedly looked in the cooking utensil aisle but there it was near a small display of mason jars and Hipster wedding idea books.)

One thirty year old plastic pasta strainer with two layers of cheesecloth. It will never be satisfied straining plain pasta again.

And here is how it works. Get ready for science people. Dairy science.

It is really difficult to get a picture of good quality milk, especially when the interior of the ridiculously heavy pot is also white.

Pour the regular milk into the ridiculously heavy pot. Place it over medium high heat and stir occassionally so it doesn't scorch (Which is fancy cooking for burn, leaving gross little brown burn worms floating in your lovely white milk.) Bring to a gentle boil at which point you add the buttermilk and prepare to be grossed out.

Whey??? WHEY!

What you have is a gently boiling pot of grossness which looks like tiny bits of cooked egg white - or curds -  surrounded by sausage grease - or whey. It starts the minute you add the buttermilk and takes about two minutes to completely curd up.

Now VERY CAREFULLY pour this ridiculously heavy and HOT pan of curds and whey into the cheesecloth which is precariously lining the plastic strainer which is sitting in the clean sink. If you have a fancy metal strainer which would sit over an equally fancy pot then you could skip the step of praying that you don't dump the entire contents into the sink thus wasting about six dollars worth of milk. 

Curds and whey. The signature dish of Miss Muffett. I can't believe she was frightened by a spider because this stuff is quite horrifying.

It was amazing how quickly this pot of grossness began to transform into a semi-sold mass in the cheesecloth. After letting it drain for about five minutes I twisted the cheesecloth into a ball, tied it closed with string and rinsed the rapidly solidifying mass under cold water until it was cool enough to squeeze the remaining whey out of it. If I wanted to make cottage cheese I would have skipped this step and just allowed some of the whey to drain but as the rest of my family despises cottage cheese I went ahead and completely cheesified it. It would have been wrong to deny them the experience of fresh homemade cheese. 

The cheese drains alone.

Now the cheese ball is left to hang and drain for up to 90 minutes depending on how dry you want the finished product. After you are tired of waiting for the cheese ball to finish draining (approximately twenty minutes) you get to unwrap the finished product. This is surprisingly difficult yet fun as the cheese has now taken on the pattern of the cheesecloth and somehow managed to get between the layers of cheesecloth.

Place cheese in beautiful hand thrown pottery bowl which your daughter made under the direction of one of your best friends.

And there you have it.

Cheese.

Sort of bland but I think it will be good for breakfast with toast and fruit. Not really so much creamy as crumbly, sort of like queso fresco, which is Spanish for fresh cheese, which I guess it is.

I have literally crossed multiple cultural borders. (Spanish. Cheese. Cultures. Think about it.)

I might need a nap.

And some professional counseling.

*The recipe for this cheese an be found in 'How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman. It is an amazing cookbook and truly does cover how to cook everything. Neither the publisher nor Mr. Bittman endorse this blog or the results of my cheese making experiment.And now that I think of it, neither does Oberweiss Dairy, Prairie Farms or Fresh Thyme. But they really should. 

**I believe I mentioned in my previous post just how apathetic and uninspired I have been. Seriously. 

***I am hoping the next week will burst me out of my funk. I am giving a cucumber eye-pad wake up regime a try. I'll keep you posted.

UPDATE!!

Just wanted to share my breakfast cheese event:

Looks healthy but still no whip cream filled donut.

I measured 1/2 cup of cheese and topped it with a little honey and added a cup of raspberries. Pretty tasty, although the cheese was quite dry - probably from cooking it a little too long. The curds were a little chewy, which increased calorie burning from all the extra chewing so WIN-WIN!

Apathetic Monday

Good morning.
Is it?
Is it really a good morning?
It is a grey, cold, damp Monday. I should clarify. It is 33F dropping to 16F by 4pm this afternoon. Which would mean Monday has already peaked. AND - it is lightly raining. Do you know what a dropping temperature does to light rain??? It magically turns light rain into invisible sheets of ice that glazes the roads and hangs tauntingly from the power lines, begging for a human sacrifice before plunging us into darkness just as House Hunters International begins.

Sorry.
I am usually not in such a mood here on the Coast of Illinois. I started the new year strong with several strong, well laid plans. But I seem to have contracted a raging case of apathy.
I blame geography.

So, in order to reclaim my normal sense of slightly annoying optimism and sunshine spreading I am taking us all back to the Islands...

Ahhhhhhh......I feel better already.

Blah...

Been meaning to update the blog...have had several great ideas, which are now titled files under which I have put nothing meaning that most likely I will completely forget what it was I was going to write about...I have also needed to move my sewing stuff into the newly designated craft/office...would love to read the book I started two weeks ago...

But instead I have just been Blah.

Outside of work clothes, I only have pajamas in the wash but I don't care that I haven't left the house except for work...Blah.

I am not sure what is up with this.

It might be the cold...weather and nasal.

Or the routine...work, work, work

work...

Possibly it is the unbelievably full moon we have had this week which thoughtfully shines directly into my bedroom window all night...

I am quite sure the Full Moon is responsible for this: 

I do not want to see his ticket or pass.

Even a grown man in Elmo underwear on the train didn't shake me for long. It just seems that I have moved to the less than great state of Apathy.

Perhaps it is the lack of toxins from the detox diet I am attempting with some co-workers...

although with all that roughage and brown rice...

or possibly I am just exhausted from lugging around the extra weight of all the containers I must now pack in my lunch for my healthy eating such as this delightful snack: 

Yes. Apple and roasted garbanzo beans. Don't judge me.

It could be all the emails and Facebook updates of beaches I am getting from the Four Seasons Hotel chain...

just what was I thinking subscribing to their Five Star Newsletter of Wonderful

But then something wonderful happened.

The SUN came out for nearly seven minutes!

It became SATURDAY!!!

cue heavenly choir.....

Can you believe she hasn't fed us for FOUR days? It's not like this feeder is in TAHITI!

And then it snowed briefly which seems to scare the sun away.

It looks like I may have to invest in one of those Light Hats or max out the credit card and take the Four Seasons up on that offer to go to Tahiti...

But...I am also being fiscally responsible...and in only approximately 158 days it will be summer...

So until then I will go here...

Happy Place

And dream of this...

Oh...there's somethin' bout a boat...

Happy Dead of Winter Everyone!!!

Snowmeggehdon...is that enough 'g's? Because I can add more.

Ah, January. The New Year is coming in like a Sharknado...only with snow...and stupid cold temps...and power outages...but no sharks.

But hey, it's winter, so what did we expect?

Harvey Flamingo and Moe Cabesa the Head are not amused.

Normally, I wind up working if there is a huge storm predicted. This includes, but is not limited to snow, rain, high winds, sharks. Okay, maybe not sharks. This really annoys me. Not because I must brave the elements to get to work but rather because I am a closet weather groupie. (plus wouldn't it be awesome to actually SEE a sharknado.)

The family blames it on the fact that I was born in Oklahoma.

Give me a Defcon 4 weather alert from the local news guys and I am ready and watching the 24 hour coverage.

Exaggeration?

Nope...maybe...

This storm actually brought on continuous coverage, relocating normal programming to the digital channels. Which was thoughtful as I am also a Today Show junkie. But also ridiculous. It was snowing. And cold. And while we got about seventy three feet fourteen inches of powder, it's not like the snow was DUMPed from a bucket. It vigorously fell for many hours.

This is entirely too much weather map action, even for me.

So, how did I spend my snow day?

Out in the snow. Der!

Look at the professional manner by which I hold onto my poles and the confident manner by which I use my daughter to hold me up.

Because it seems, that while I am a total klutz and completely inept at nearly every sport invented, if you strap two long wooden/fiberglass boards to my feet I become:

Jean-Claude Killy on Downhill Skis

Ester Williams on Water Skis

and

Some Nordic Dude in a big sweater with a lye preserved fish on Cross-Country Skis.

This may be a slight exaggeration. (and somewhat insulting to those of Nordic descent.) But, in my mind, I am shushing and swishing with enough form to win a 9.5 from the East German Judge. According to my husband I am more of a 911 call waiting to happen, not because of my excessive speed or recklessness but rather because of my ability to stop by flinging my appendages in a circular motion while spinning on my back like a turtle on the highway.

Still, it's nice to have a sport to call your own.

These are the professionals.The quiet day was rudely disrupted by their constant inquiry "Are you okay back there?"

And is there nothing more beautiful than a quiet snowy day.

Until the power goes out at midnight and the temperature is -7 with a wind chill of Frigidaire.

And the river freezes.

No worries New Orleans! We're sending the Ice.

Just Spreading some Sunshine...

It is the last full day of winter. Here on the Coast of Illinois we have had rain, sleet, snow, lightning and thunder, more rain, wind and did I mention sleet and rain. All of this has been withing the last 48 hours. Today it is 31degrees...damp and windy...with a chance for snow.*

Which is why I am having my morning coffee in Miami.

I am sorry. Was the SoundMachine being too noise? I'll just talk to Gloria. (Give it a minute...there you go!)

 

 

 

 

Enjoy it now fellow Coasters. When July rolls around and we think we have accidently moved to the surface of the sun we will be reminiscing about March with the conviction** of Lindsay Lohan argueing her case to the traffic courts.

*Yes, I know my friends in the Great White North will laugh at my whining and point out that they still can't find the dog they let out because the snow drifts covered him up. I am sorry but seriously, you are so far from the equator that really, what do you expect. I mean, Great and White are in the informal title of your part of the country. Put on your big snow pants and join me in the Great State of Delusion.

**Perhaps 'conviction' was a poor choice of words?