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| The Hornet's Nest installed in the living room; Deb Marshall photo |
We had a small very pleasant New Year’s mystery this year,
and now we’ve got a larger and much less pleasant one. Besides that, it’s
snowing like crazy, and the cold weather has been quite terrible. Those of us who have lived hereabouts since
we were children pretty much expect that there will be 2 weeks of wicked cold
weather either around Christmas, or sometime in late January – but the bitter
bitter cold we’ve had for way too long now is kinda ridiculous. For the first
time in several years I had to haul out of the deep closet the 30-year-old
winter jackets we bought in Montreal one long-ago fall: they’re knee-length,
have a zipper topped by a flap with snaps, a tall turn-up collar, with more
snaps, that covers the entire neck to the chin, topped by a hood you can pull
tight, that has its own flap with snaps, which covers the face up to the nose.
All closed up, it’s warm and wind-proof, so only from knees down and
cheeks-and-eyes freeze.
Since I wrote that first paragraph a week ago, we morphed
from deep freeze to spring, and today back to windy, horrid and cold again. The
wart deck is a gritty sheet of ice, and poor Abu went down the steps on his
butt earlier today when his feet went out from under him on the ice. The birds
are struggling to make their windy wobbly way towards the deck rail for the
seeds – at least, for the seeds the wind hasn’t blown off yet – and I put down
ice melt, but the wind blew most of it off onto the ground, which is also like
a skating rink. The top of the compost
bin is well above the snow line again, but the weather gods are planning to fix
that later this week, I hear. I’m all for it, if the snow adheres to the ice
and makes safe movement possible again – until it does, no doggie walks are
happening here, the poor Barkie Boy is on his own – he, at least, can skitter
across the top of the snow if he can make it down the stairs, and a slip and
fall is shorter for him than for we two-legged critters.
In Chinese theory, humans, because we stand on two feet, are
the unique connection between heaven and earth – our feet planted on earth, our
heads in the heavens – but on icy windy days, our uprightness isn't necessarily a given, and
our fall from on high can be quite painful. It’s worth noting that Wind is said
to blow evils into our bodies, and considering how many hurt
backs/shoulders/knees/toes/wrists I’ve treated so far this month, not to mention a wide variety of upper respiratory gunk, I know it to be true.
The Furry People have pretty much given up and are
semi-hibernating in various baskets placed not far from the woodstove, on their winter perches, or in a
bundled fur pile they make of themselves. Biscuit does get up once each evening
to make a patrol of the cellar to try to put a check on the mouse colony. The
kitchen mouse has been invisible lately – either Biscuit finally dispatched it,
or it wisely moved on to another spot, and it occurs to me I should hoe out the
pantry sometime soon to see if it’s moved there.* Catman pokes his nose out the
door every so often, then skitters back and gives me the angry glare of a
frustrated Lord of the Universe whose human servant keeps forgetting to flip
the warm weather switch on and the cold weather switch off. Then he stomps back to his warm basket under
the bay tree.
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| Furry People resting on their winter perches; Deb Marshall photo |
The nasty New Year's mystery we had was the furnace dying in the middle
of the coldest of the weather – which hasn’t happened in years, since – well,
since the last horrid below-below-below zero freezing spell. Why does it only act up in the worst
weather? We’re lucky, the woodstove provides most the heat for our house, but
the furnace also heats our water, and in the really frigid weather, the
woodstove needs some overnight and windy-day backup from the furnace. We can
heat water on the woodstove and gas stove, but apart from heating enough to
wash hands and faces and keep the dishes clean, no bathing or laundry will get
done without furnace-heated water. Not only don’t we have time, but we aren’t
set up to do it the old-fashioned way without a lot of jury-rigging. We had
long visits from three different furnace repair guys during that awful weather,
all trying to figure out what was ailing the 35-year-old furnace. One of them arrived the morning of that windy
snow blow day that has gone down in weather infamy (Nor'easter? Cyclone?) and, I’ve got to say, we’re impressed by and grateful to the guys who
do that job, and the many others we usually don’t notice who keep our modern
lives running smoothly. We still don’t know what was wrong with the furnace, but
after some different kinds of fiddling, it seems to be running well again. Fingers crossed.
The pleasant mystery we had arrived close to New Year's Day. Late
one afternoon – but before it was dark – the Husband and I were ensconced
on the couch, him snoozing, me nursing my annual Christmas Vacation Cold and
catching up on Portlandia episodes.
Someone came in the kitchen door, and I expected either the Sailor or Eddie B
would come down the hall momentarily. When no one did, and no one shouted
“Hello!”, I hauled myself out of my tv spaciness and went to see who was there.
By the time I got to the kitchen, no one was there, but a disposable diaper box
holding a gorgeous many-colored knitted blanket was on the floor by the door.
There was no
note; I couldn’t see a car leaving our long driveway; I poked my head out the
door and saw no footprints, only dog pawprints. Had Santa Paws dropped off a
late gift? Or had someone mistaken our house for someone else’s house and
delivered a gift to the wrong place? Usually the long driveway and the
distinctive color of our house is a sure give-away that an uncertain traveler’s
in the wrong place. And this delivery didn’t come by UPS or FedEx or mailman –
the box was open, with no signs of torn wrapping or other identification.
I spread out the blanket and again checked the box for a
hidden note or something identifying. The blanket was in the style of a
patchwork quilt with many bright-colored triangles pieced into squares, and looked like it was complicated to knit. On one corner,
there was a tiny, tiny little piece of cloth with “S. Barrss” written on it,
sewed on by hand. There was a very faint odor of a light perfume, new wool
smell, and an even fainter odor of fir or pine. No cat or dog hairs – that
eliminated a few potential sources.
Huh. I don’t know any Barrss. So I called the two people I
know who would have disposable diaper boxes – Niece, mother of a 16-month-old,
and Brother, grandfather of same diaper-wearer – and they claimed to know
nothing about it. Then I called my mother because one should always call one’s
mother when uncertain what to do, and she knew nothing, either. I emailed the Sailor, and called E. Bear
– still no solution. The Actress and the Tall Dude are away for the winter, so
I couldn’t blame them. I called the next-door neighbor. “Are you missing a delivery that
might have landed at my house?” No. I Googled S.Barrss – a few Barrss showed up
in southern NH, but no S, and no further illumination. A couple of days later,
the British Car Gal was visiting, and she had no idea, either, though she was
aware that there are some Barrss who live down her way, but she doesn’t know
any of them.
All we could do was wait and hope someone solved the mystery
for us.
It reminded me of the time many years ago when, as a joke, I
bought a very naughty cake made by a local baker who specialized in
genitally-decorated pastry, and sent it to the Traveler, who was living in
Seattle at the time, to arrive on Valentine’s Day. She called me when it
arrived and we laughed and shrieked a bit about it, and then I forgot about it;
but the Traveler froze it and pulled it out the next year and sent it back to
us. When I didn’t call her and shriek and laugh again at her trick, she called
me to find out why. Why was because
it hadn’t arrived.
She called UPS on her end, I called on my end, and they
swore they’d delivered it, and the driver even described the doorway he’d left
it by. Of course, it wasn’t my doorway,
and it wasn’t a doorway we recognized. I’ve always wondered which neighbor
received that unexpected delivery, and assume that since they didn’t call us to
say they’d received a package meant for us, they must have opened it. I’ve
always wondered if it was a pleasant surprise for them, and did they eat it?
A week or so later, the New Year’s mystery was solved when
our very sweet librarian asked the Husband how I’d liked the blanket. She’d come
to the house earlier in the day to pick something up and I gave her a quick tour of the house. She enjoyed the many
colors our house is painted in, and thought the blanket would go nicely. Which
it does!
Thank you, Michelle, for the surprise gift and the New
Year’s mystery. Both were greatly enjoyed!
Here are a couple of winter recipes that can help warm body
and soul. These are my versions of classic recipes – alter them to fit your
tastes. Both are Indian in origin; the spices used in Indian cooking all help
warm the body without overheating it, and improve digestion.
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| Carrot and parsley root harvest; even the veggies are colorful! None of these in the following recipes. Deb Marshall photo |
Chai (chai
means “tea”; spiced chai is a lovely winter drink. It can be made with or
without black tea, and is usually served with heated milk or cream. Sweeten, or not,
to taste. I make a quart or more of the basic brew and keep it in the frig, adding milk and reheating as needed.)
In a 3-qt saucepan, put 2 qts of water and the following
spices (or any combination you prefer):
A knob of fresh ginger, smacked with the flat of a knife to
mash it slightly
2-5 cinnamon sticks, depending on size of the stick
9 whole black peppercorns
1 tsp whole cloves
1 tsp whole allspice berries
2-4 tsp whole cardamom pods
a grating of nutmeg, a dash of mace
Cover, bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook for
about 20 minutes. After 20 minutes, turn off the heat and if you like, steep
2-3 black tea bags (or a well-filled tea ball or two) in the hot liquid for 5
minutes. Then strain the chai and add sweetener if desired (sugar, honey, or
maple syrup) and store in frig. This will keep for several weeks. It’s usually
combined half-and-half with hot milk (reheat the chai also!); if you prefer to
drink it without the milk, you may find you want to water down the chai a
little to taste. This is good cold in the summer, also, and isn’t too heating
for hot weather.
Kicharee
This dish takes only about 20 minutes to make once you’ve
gathered your ingredients, keeps well in the frig, and freezes
well. I make it quite thick, so it can be rolled into balls; or if you take a
quantity of it and add broth or water, it can become soup. It’s said of
kicharee that if one eats only it, 3 times/day for 10 days, it can cure most
diseases. I don’t know about that, but it is a complete vegetarian protein (dried legume + grain), and
it’s very good for the digestion: easy to digest, with spices that warm the
stomach and improve digestion, very important in cold weather when our Qi goes deep into the body.
Cooked vegetables may be added afterwards if you
choose to make it into soup.
Carefully rinse 2+ cups of Masoor Dal (the pink/red lentils
you’ll find in the International isle of the grocery store, the Co-op, or in an Asian market) and let them drain,
removing any small stones or chaff that you find. Put them in a 3-quart
saucepan. Traditionally, you would then add about 1 cup of white Basmati rice (white for easy digestion); Thai Jasmine also
works well, and the dish can be made without rice but won’t be a complete vegetarian
protein unless you add some other grain.
Cover the dal/rice mixture with cold water. Rest the tip of your index
finger on top of the layer of dal/rice, and add cold water to cover, up to the closest finger joint (about an inch above the dal). Cover it and bring to a boil,
then turn down to a low simmer, adding a little salt – about a tsp. Keep an eye
on this mixture, it’ll cook faster than you expect! The dal will turn yellow.
Check it in about 5 minutes, and try to turn it off before the water has
completely boiled off – leave it covered while you prepare the spices, more
water will be absorbed as it sits. If the water has absorbed too quickly and the dal/rice isn't yet soft, add a little hot water and cook longer.
While this is cooking, you’re going to prepare the spice
mixture. For this, you’ll want:
Cinnamon, cloves, turmeric, cumin seed, cardamom, fenugreek,
whole mustard seed – preferably brown, fennel seed, ginger, and asafoetida. You
can use garlic powder in place of asafoetida if you prefer. The quantity of each that you’ll use depends
largely on taste, but start with 1 tsp each of cinnamon, cumin seed, cardamom,
ginger, fenugreek and fennel seed; 1 T of turmeric; ½ T of mustard seed. You’ll
probably want 1 tsp or more of garlic if you’re using that, several tsps of
asafoetida if you’re using that instead.
You’ll also need a stick of butter, or the equivalent amount
of ghee (butter with the milk solids removed). Don’t try to replace this with
margarine, it won’t taste right, besides that there really isn't any margarine that's healthy for us.
In your frying pan, melt the butter or ghee, then add the
spices, except the asafoetida, and stir them around until they’re releasing
their oils and smelling fragrant. If you’re using asafoetida, add this during
the last few moments. Once all is fragrant and your dal is cooked, pour the
contents of the fry pan into the the cooked dal and stir in well. At this
point, taste it and adjust for salt; if you need more of the other spices, melt
some more butter and cook spices in it until fragrant before adding to the dal. Some folks
like to add yogurt, also.
To make this a soup rather than the thick paste this recipe
will make, use several cups more of water when cooking the dal.
I often roll the kicharee into bite-size balls for snacking
on – it’s very good at room temperature – and if I want soup, put several balls
to hot broth or hot water and stir to combine. Kicharee freezes well.
Note: asafoetida, or hing, is used in many Indian dishes in
place of garlic or onions, as those two vegetables are considered to be
unclean, as they pull toxins out of the soil. Hing is a pungent flavor like
onions and garlic, but has a distinctive flavor all its own that isn’t really
describable. It’s very strong smelling –
when you buy it, it comes as a powder, usually in a sealed plastic bottle; once
you’ve opened it, you’ll want to store the bottle inside a larger glass
bottle or your pantry will smell of asafoetida.
Readers of Victorian novels may recognize the name – it was
used in the West as an ingredient in medicines during that time, and is still
currently used by some herbalists to treat lung issues and other ailments.
Happy New Year, everyone! May you all have excellent adventures and interesting mysteries this year!
*Overnight note: I roasted the remaining two pumpkins last night to make soup and freeze the leftover pulp, and saved a heaping bowl full of seeds to put out for the birds this morning. This morning, the bowl was empty except for 9 remaining seeds! Our kitchen mousie, wherever it's nesting, is going to be well-fed for the next few days!
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| I may need to sic the living room ghoul on the kitchen mousie, which appears to be clad in a cloak of invisibility. Deb Marshall photo |
