Party On, Dudes

Here we are, poised and ready to begin a new decade.  Time Magazine recently called the 00s the "Decade from Hell."  It was, most certainly, a decade full of change.  But it does seem to have gone by really quickly.  Doesn't it seem like only yesterday that Y2K was a worry?  That we had faith in our election process?  That planes didn't crash into buildings?  That real estate was a good investment?  Remember when this song was. . . ahead of its time?

I don't get too bogged down by time boundaries, but I do think it's fun to welcome the new year.  Wanna see?  Here's a (thankfully) grainy old photo of Tom and I.  Partying like it was . . . 1979 . . . in the streets of San Francisco.  (I'm really loving the lumberjack look there, Tom!).

 

Well, things will be a bit quieter for Tom and I this New Year's Eve.  That I can guarantee.  But, I can also say that. . .

 

copyright Anne Taintor

We made sure to have an answer to my most pressing question (the one in the far right upper corner of my refrigerator). . .

 

by taking advantage of this. . .

 

Thanks, Tom!

 

And, honey. . . no worries.  There will be plenty of your favorite beverages too!

 

It's not every year that you turn over a whole new decade!

So. . . party likes it's 2009!  Dudes, party on!

In My Own Backyard

It's bleak in my backyard right now.  Grey. Blustery. Cold. Snowy.  But there's a bit of a party going on all the same.

The bird feeders are full, and the eatin' is good!

 

 

 

The fat, greedy squirrel (Jenny's nemesis!) is crashing this party.

 

If you like to feed the birds in your backyard, you might want to consider participating in the Great Backyard Bird Count coming up February 12-15.  It's easy and kind of fun -- with all reporting done online. 

 

It's a sure way to brighten a bleak landscape!

Good Eats

Remember this?  

Earlier this month I decided to focus my Christmas food-planning on the holiday meal highlighted in the December issue of Cooking Light magazine.  Oh, there was plenty of warm-up food. . . before the big meal.

Tom and Erin baked cookies.

 

We had plenty of treats and goodies from friends and family -- including a giant treat basket from the fabulous Zingerman's Bakehouse in Ann Arbor.  (Sadly, no photos.  Demolished too quickly by a family of Sweet Tooths.)

And on Christmas morning, we ate our traditional baked French toast breakfast.

 

But then. . . my real cooking adventure began! 

Now, I like to cook.  A lot.  But I don't typically take on an entire menu of new dishes . . . all for one meal.  I usually try to plan meals that come together without a lot of stress at the end, and that don't involve every single pan in the house.  So this. .  . was something of a stretch for me.  Everything needed to be cooked at the same time!  Nothing was a do-ahead dish! 

 

I didn't actually re-create the entire menu from the magazine.  There was just too much food for one meal!  After a careful study, I chose to make the brined pork loin (with a brown sugar-bourbon glaze), the wine-soaked beans and mushrooms, the onions and apples with bacon, and the Yukon gold mashed potatoes with horseradish butter.  Oh, and German chocolate mousse for dessert (which I did make the day before).

It was fun.  It was wild.  It was tasty.  Really tasty.  I didn't get many photos, though, because it was just happening too fast.

 

Yum.

 

Yum.

 

Yum!

Everything tasted great -- and, since I was following a professional menu plan, the dishes all complimented each other. . . perfectly.  I scrambled like a mad-woman for a good 45 minutes, and I made a total mess of my kitchen, but it was adventurous and fun and tasty.  I'll definitely try this again!

And Tom -- bless him -- cleaned up my mess!  (After he ate. . . of course!)

Straight from the Heart

I got some really special gifts this year for Christmas.  Handmade goodies.

 

My Dad made these totally cool bookends for me.

 

They're so very clever!

 

My sister and her husband joined forces to make me something extra-special, too.

 

My brother-in-law made the stunning - and clever - frame, and my sister created a cross-stitch souvenir of our London vacation.

 

And my friend Sandie, who also happens to be a ceramic artist, made this gorgeous dish for me.

 

It's just lovely!

 

I love handmade gifts.  They come. . . straight from the heart!

The Best Part of Christmas

The very best part of Christmas. . .

 

is when it's over!  And you can kick back and relax.

And play with your new toys!

 

 

 

Hope your holiday was lovely.  Mine was! 

But now. . . we need a nap!

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

It's here. . .

May the spirit of the season fill you with peace.

 

Happy Holidays!

Winter Interest

In garden design, the goal is to create a garden that looks great in all seasons.  In the winter. . . here in Michigan. . . you need to consider "winter interest" -- and create a garden that will bring joy -- even in the snow.

 

Seedheads and grasses look magical when they capture and hold a little snow.

 

Back in the fall, when I cleaned up my garden for the season, I intentionally left some of the plants and grasses as they were.  For the snow.

 

 

The snow makes a wonderful contrast on the bark of trees and highlights the bare branches that would otherwise disappear into the background.

 

The snow helps a bleak winter landscape look . . . lovely!

 

(Snow has such magical properties that it can even bring "winter interest" to  a rusty old mildewed hockey net!)

 

I'm enjoying the snow today. . . because the weather forecast says rain is on the way.  Yes, rain for Christmas.  I try not to pay too much attention to weather forecasts -- because weather does . . . whatever it does.  But I really don't like rain on top of snow.  And I really don't like rain at Christmas.  Sigh.  That's Michigan for you!  We get a lot of weather here. 

And, speaking of Michigan, here's a special holiday greeting for you!

 

Enjoy this last push before The Big Day!

O Christmas Tree

In my efforts to reclaim Christmas this year, I considered skipping the Christmas tree.  It takes a lot of effort and futzy-work to set up, decorate, and then undo the whole thing when the celebrating is over.  I think I could enjoy a happy Christmas without the tree.  I really do.  But my family intervened.  They offered to be more involved and to help me "do" the tree.  And so.  Here it is.

 

And now that it's up in our living room, I'm glad it's there.  Because from it's top. . .

 

(. . . what?  Doesn't every Victorian Santa tree topper carry a Spidey?) . . . to it's bottom. . .

 

(a hand-embroidered tree skirt I made in 1983). . . the tree so perfectly reflects my family.  You can tell so much about us when you look at the ornaments on the tree.

We're Swedish. . .

 

and Irish. . .

 

We fish. .

 

and sing. . .

 

and play hockey. . .

 

and garden. . .

 

and knit!

 

The tree has a sense of history, too.  Ornaments from my own childhood. . .

 

and from our early-married-living-on-the-cheap years. . .

 

and from our kids' childhoods.

 

Our tree honors our pets, too.  From our first cat - the beloved Jelly (now THAT was Some Cat!). . .

 

to our current furry pal, Jenny.

 

Now that it's up, I can't imagine reclaiming Christmas without it!  The lights, the symbols, the memories.

 

Ho-Ho-Ho!

Ring Out Those Solstice Bells

Happy Solstice!  It's time to celebrate the longest night of the year:

With music. . .

And light . . .

And cocoa. . .

Celebrate the season.

 

Celebrate the light!

=========================================

And now for something completely different. . .

This is totally off-topic, but Just Dang Impressive.  Brian had his wisdom teeth extracted on Friday.  He is as miserable as might be expected, but improving rapidly.  Anyway. . . check out his teeth!!!

 

He asked for them. . . and is hoping his biology teacher will give him extra credit. . . Always thinking, that kid of mine!

How Old Would You Be?

I've always liked this sentiment. . .

 

It seems quite appropriate today. 

So.  Tom.  How old WOULD you be?

 

Two?

 

Thirteen?

 

Twenty-one?

How about. . .

 

Fifty-one! 

Happiest Birthday, Tom!  I know how old you are. . . and I love every year of you!