Zig Zags

Last week I sent John to the store to pick up Heather’s prescriptions. He came back with beef sirloins, chicken breasts, pork chops and salmon steaks. It was apparently a meat sale he couldn’t resist. I re-wrapped and froze everything else, but it seemed such a shame to freeze fresh salmon.

Lemon Pepper Salmon

4 filleted salmon steaks

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons butter

2 cloves garlic, minced

Juice of 1 lemon

2 tablespoons honey

1/4 teaspoon crushed pepper

Season salmon on both sides with salt and pepper. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, heat oil and butter. Add salmon and cook until bottom is golden – five minutes – then flip. Add garlic, lemon juice, honey, and red pepper flakes. Cook until salmon is cooked through, another 5 minutes, spooning sauce over salmon as it cooks. Serve with lemon wedges.

Raspberries

Last Christmas we gave our neighbors foaming hand soaps from Bath & Body Works – an unusually perspicacious gift, considering what’s happened since. When I purchased them, I made sure our own shelves were fully stocked as well. But that was eight months ago, with a lot of hand-washing going on. A month ago, I’d nearly run out and was using the bars of Irish Spring I’d bought to keep rodents out of my food storage. (Note: Irish Spring CAN also keep hands clean. It’s just much less FUN.) The store’s website had hand soap on sale, but the shipping cost made the sale price sort of pointless. I briefly considered an excursion to the mall to pick up soap in person. But the six nearest shops are DEEP inside airless buildings full of people who don’t believe in science, face masks, hygiene or personal space. Then I remembered there’s a Bath & Body Works at an open-air shopping center downtown. Problem solved.

Scrap Squares

Sour Cream Blueberry/Banana Bread

1 cup mashed ripe bananas

2 cups flour

3/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

1/2 teaspoons salt

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 cup chopped pecans

2 eggs, lightly beaten

1/2 cup sour cream

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 stick butter, plus more for greasing

1 cup blueberries

Grease 9x5 loaf pan; heat oven to 350F. Stir together flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and nuts. In a separate bowl, blend together eggs, sour cream, vanilla, butter and mashed banana. Pour wet mixture into dry and stir until just combined. Gently fold in blueberries. (If you break the berries, the bread will be green!) Pour into prepared pan. Bake about 60 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool 30 minutes before turning out of pan. Finish cooling completely before slicing.

The Jolly Roger

Inside my local grocery there were large bins between the check stands and the exit. Non-perishables placed in these bins would go to the local food bank. Are the bins still there? I’ve no idea. I haven’t been inside the store since March. I know most shops don’t accept returns for fear of COVID contamination. The local good will takes donations by appointment only, and the items sit in “quarantine” for a while before anyone will handle them. I suspect there are more people going hungry today than in March, but I’m not sure how to help. Some creative New Yorkers are less blocked than I. They’ve rounded up more than a dozen used refrigerators, painted them and planted them in boroughs all over the city. The new paint reads, “This fridge belongs to you, and so does what’s inside. Take food. Leave food. Be well.” Is it safe? Maybe not. But it IS feeding people.

Bug Jar Top

“Take time to think prayerfully about these facts: You are an elect son or daughter of God. You are created in His image. You were taught in the spirit world to prepare you for anything and everything you would encounter during this latter part of these latter days. That teaching endures within you! You are living in the eleventh hour. My first recommendation is to learn for yourselves who you really are. Ask your Heavenly Father in the name of Jesus Christ how He feels about you and your mission here on earth. If you ask with real intent, over time the Spirit will whisper the life-changing truth to you. Record those impressions, review them often, and follow through with exactness. I promise you when you begin to catch even a glimpse of how your Heavenly Father sees you and what He is counting on you to do for Him, your life will never be the same!” – M. Russell Nelson

The Proposal

For 114 days the only way Mary Daniel could see her husband was through a window. Steve, an Alzheimer's patient in Jacksonville, doesn’t understand about the coronavirus pandemic. He doesn’t know his memory care facility is closed to all but essential employees. He only knew Mary wasn’t there anymore. It made him inexpressibly sad. When a dishwasher position came open, the care center offered it to Mary, who jumped at the chance. "I told them, 'I'm gonna be the best dishwasher you ever had. I want to be here. I need to be with him.'" Since July 3, Mary has been scrubbing dishes, mopping floors and cleaning the kitchen. “I did a COVID test, a TB test, a drug test, and 20 hours of video training," she said. But it’s all worth it, because after her shift she can be with Steve. He recognizes her, even with her mask. “When he said my name, we both cried.”

Three Dozen Log Cabins

In the 1940’s, bus #142 was part of the Fairbanks Transit System. In the 60’s it was hauled into the Alaskan wilderness by a construction company to serve as shelter during a short-lived road project. It sat abandoned and forgotten until 1992 when an ill-prepared, inexperienced tramp stumbled by. 24-year-old Chris McCandless meant to hike solo to the Bering Sea. Thick Alaskan brush halted his trek, but by then the Teklanika River was too swollen to cross back to civilization. He starved here, about 30 miles from the nearest road. Within weeks of the body’s discovery, Jon Krakauer published an article romanticizing McCandless’ life and death. Then there was a novel and a feature movie. Suddenly bus #142 became the object of pilgrimage to many more “free spirits,” several of whom also died or had to be rescued as they tried to reach it. June 18 a National Guard helicopter airlifted bus #142. For now, it’s safely in state-owned storage.

Tabby Cat

Toodles will have been a member of our family eight years this autumn. In early October, 2012, she was an adolescent stray cat mooching breakfast in the parking lot of the Midvalley Crystal Inn. My daughter-in-law took pity on her and brought her to our house, and she’s been here ever since. We know she was a house cat before we met her, because she already knew exactly what can openers and litter boxes were about. She’s never been impressed by any of the cat toys or kitty treats we’ve offered her, but I once watched her entertain herself for nearly an hour with a toddler-proof outlet cover. She has completely shredded my rocking chair, but for the most part she leaves the other furniture alone. Generally speaking, she shuns the company of both our dogs. But every now and then I find all three of them stretched out together, sharing a sunny spot on the stairs.

Twenty Bug Jars

When I was in my teens, Daddy built a house. It was a split-level with five bedrooms, three baths, and an attached garage. I remember helping to lay shingles and mix cement. Mostly I remember thinking it would NEVER be finished. During much of that time we lived in a small camper parked on the lot: Mother, Daddy, my two sisters, our kid brother, and me. I think the experience has put me off vacationing in an RV to this day. Last week we had some work done on our current house. We replaced a tub that hasn’t aged well and a shower that wasn’t built to code, and added a bathroom door. (What kind of idiot builds a doorless bathroom?) The ordeal brought those old memories into sharper focus. It ALMOST made me wish I owned a motor home to escape to – a safe place to avoid the noise, the dust and the chaos until it was all over.

Scottie Dog

I was browsing through old blog posts, looking for my blueberry bread recipe. I eventually found it, but not in the blog. I’ll post it here in a day or two. I discovered a seven-year-old entry where I talked about previous pets and mentioned that I’ve always wanted a Scottish terrier. Lassie came to live with us a little more than four years later. Lassie is about 30 – in dog years – and I can’t imagine life without her. She loves bits of carrot, sweet potato, chicken, rice, and eggs. She doesn’t care for apples or oranges. She chases birds like she thinks she has wings. No running hose or sprinkler head is safe from her. Lassie’s reactive with dogs she doesn’t know, but extremely gentle with children. She adores her groomer and loves car trips. She’s slow to settle down at night and even slower to drag herself out of bed in the morning. And she’s an excellent companion.

Thirty-two Log Cabins

“You might be thinking, ‘I’ve made mistakes in my life. I’m not sure I could ever feel like I belong in the Church of Jesus Christ. God couldn’t be interested in someone like me.’ Jesus the Christ, though He is King of kings, the Messiah, Son of the living God, does care deeply about each and every one of God’s children. He cares regardless of a person’s position—how poor or rich, how imperfect or proven someone is. During His mortal life, the Savior ministered to all: to the happy and accomplished, to the broken and lost, and to those without hope. Often the people He served and ministered to were not individuals of prominence, beauty, or wealth. Often the people He lifted up had little to offer in return but gratitude, a humble heart, and the desire to have faith. If Jesus spent His mortal life ministering to the least of these, would He not love them today?” - Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Corner Garden

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat." – Theodore Roosevelt

Sixteen Bug Jars

In case you needed another reason for a staycation, Orkin has released a list of the American cities with the most bed bugs. These are the places that received the most bed bug treatments – residential and commercial – between December 1, 2018 and November 30, 2019. Washington D.C. and Baltimore were numbers one and two (they’re usually at the very top of the list) followed by Chicago, Los Angeles, Columbus, New York, Detroit, Cincinnati, Indianapolis and Atlanta. Essentially, you’ll find the most of these little nasties wherever you find the most humans. Bed bugs are about the same size, shape and color of apple seeds. They’re excellent hitchhikers. If you want to avoid becoming their food source, use white sheets and pillow cases. Don’t buy second-hand furniture or bedding. Change sheets and vacuum frequently. Get your own washer and dryer so you can skip the laundromat. Never put your luggage on a hotel bed. Or just stay home.

Four Corner Flowers

One of our favorite Hawaiian poke bowl spots offers “tunavocado,” a delightful blend of fresh avocado, raw sushi-grade tuna, and sliced scallions. This salad is just as delicious, and maybe a bit more palatable for those who are less adventurous.

Tunavocado Salad

12 ounces solid white albacore, drained and flaked

1 English cucumber, sliced

2 ripe avocados peeled, pitted and chopped

1 small red onion, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons olive oil

In a large salad bowl, combine tuna, cucumber, avocado and onion. Drizzle with lemon juice and oil. Add salt and pepper to taste; gently toss. Serve immediately.

Twenty-five Log Cabins

It’s said that travel is fatal to prejudice. I’ll go one step further. I think you can’t really know your own country until you’ve seen it through foreign eyes. When we lived in England, nearly everyone we knew had been to the United States at least once. They’d visited New York or Las Vegas or Disney World; sometimes all three. They’re unanimous in the things they dislike: our healthcare system sucks. Restaurant portions are laughably huge. And the peek-through stalls in public restrooms are downright creepy. But they’re generous with their praise as well: no country on earth has better accommodations for the handicapped. We, as a people, are typically well-educated, friendly and optimistic. We demand variety in our entertainment: concerts, museums, shows, theme parks, movies, sports, arcades, etc. We’re a creative, industrious people, and we’ve developed a culture of freedom. We’re allowed – no, expected – to be watchful and openly critical of our own leaders.

Corner Flower

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but I’m sure someone does. Unless you use those clever little laundry pods, you’re probably measuring liquid detergent using the cap the bottle came with. Then you pour the measured detergent into the machine with your dirty clothes, or into the little dispenser compartment in your front-loader. Before long, detergent residue builds up in the measuring cap, and also in the dispenser. It’s sticky and disgusting, and can make a tedious job even worse. There’s a really simple solution: instead of pouring detergent and then shelving the dirty cap, pop the cap into the machine along with your clothes. When the cycle is done, fish the now squeaky-clean cap out as you load the clothes into the dryer. Some detergent bottles actually tell you to do this, if you take the trouble to read all the fine print. You can also do the same thing with the liquid fabric softener cap.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

“The Apostle Paul taught that faith works by love. What a valuable doctrine to understand! Love is the driving force behind faith. Just as a fire at home on a cold winter night makes it warm, so love of God and neighbor gives us faith, with which anything is possible. Most of us profess to love God. The challenge is loving our neighbor. The term neighbor includes family, people with whom we work, those whom we see in geographical proximity to our home and at church, and even the enemy, though we do not condone what the latter does. If we do not love all of these, our brothers and sisters, can we truly say that we love God? The Apostle John declared ‘that he who loveth God love his brother also,’ and added, ‘If a man say I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar.’ Love of God and neighbor must therefore be inseparably connected.” – Robert F. Orton

A Dozen Bug Bottles

I occasionally buy Heather a 12-pack of A&W root beer, because she loves it, because it doesn’t have caffeine (some root beers do) and because she doesn’t mind sharing. A few weeks ago, I opened a can and poured half into a glass with ice for Heather. The other half I poured into my stainless-steel tumbler (a gift for the hospital volunteers) and stuck in my stainless-steel straw (also a volunteer gift). I’d washed both the night before and had left them to dry on the counter. I took a sip and realized instantly something didn’t taste or feel right. I spat out a large, unhappy earwig. I’ve never brushed my teeth with more energy. Afterwards I looked it up: earwigs are safe to eat, though they’re best cooked. What does an earwig taste like? This one was iodine-flavored, with strong hints of jalapeno. That may mean he’s responsible for decimating my pepper plants. I should have swallowed him.

Stacy's House

I was re-watching Downton Abbey the other day (you can tell I’m missing Yorkshire) and got to the part where Mary Crawley sings “If You Were the Only Girl” for WWI soldiers. I was thinking not many 100-year-old songs would be familiar today. There’s “Over There,” of course, and “Smiles,” “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows,” and “Look for the Silver Lining,” which shows up in another Downton episode. Our nursing home singalongs often included much older hits. “By the Light of the Silvery Moon,” “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” and “Shine on Harvest Moon” were golden oldies long before the 80- and 90-something residents were born. But they still know and love them. My dad was fond of “Yes We Have No Bananas,” which was written fifteen years before his birth. In general, any generation’s favorite songs would be those popular during their teens. But they might also be the songs their parents and grandparents taught them.

Nine Jars of Bugs

I’m shocked to discover I’ve been holding on to this buggy fabric for fifteen years! Generally speaking, it’s a bad idea to hoard stuff like this. Fabric has a shelf life. If it’s exposed to light, it can fade and become brittle. Moisture can destroy it even faster. But even if it’s safely tucked away in a dark, dry cupboard, it will deteriorate, beginning with the folded bits. If I’d pieced these bug jar blocks when the fabric was new, finding matching prints for sashing, cornerstones, borders, back and binding would have been a simple matter. Now I’ll have to get creative and hope the result doesn’t look too “cobbled together.” To be completely honest, I’ve had these scraps so long, I’d forgotten I owned them. I was making face masks for my grandchildren to wear to church, and I dug them up in a bin of novelty prints looking for something that would make them smile.

Lil' Monsters with Borders

Now and then, one of my quilt projects goes horribly wrong. If I can’t fix it, I put it in a “time out” bag in the closet. Sometimes when I check again, a solution presents itself. If not, the bag gets donated. Or at least it did before this year. Last time I hauled stuff to good will was around Valentine’s. These days, I limit myself to projects I can do with the supplies on hand, so I don’t have to visit the quilt store. I pieced these log cabin blocks three years ago, but when I tried to put them together, I discovered my seam allowance was off and they were wonky. I tried straightening them, but the seam ripper tore a big hole in one. This week I realized the backing fabric matched the ripped piece. I could cut a new “log” and have plenty backing left over. Voilà! My Halloween log cabin’s back in business!

Bees in Four Bottles

People have cultivated honey bees since the dawn of time. The old testament mentions bees and honey several times. Honey was described as a precious gift; something you might offer as a token of highest esteem. An area blessed with prosperity was said to flow with milk and honey. Honey can attract and retain moisture, so it’s no wonder it is used in ointments and cosmetics. Honey is said to have been part of Cleopatra’s daily beauty ritual. If honey is exposed to moisture it can spoil. But a sealed jar can last indefinitely. (Explorers who found a 2000-year-old jar of honey in an Egyptian tomb said it tasted delicious!) Honey isn’t just a sugar substitute. It includes enzymes, vitamins, minerals. It’s the only food that contains pinocembrin, an antioxidant associated with improved brain function. For centuries honey has been used as a medicine. Raw honey can help relieve coughs, sore throats, digestive disorders, skin problems and allergies.

Lucky Penny

“Many in this world are afraid and angry with one another. While we understand these feelings, we need to be civil in our discourse and respectful in our interactions. This is especially true when we disagree. The Savior taught us to love even our enemies. The vast majority of our members heed this counsel. Yet there are some who feel that venting their personal anger or deeply held opinions is more important than conducting themselves as Jesus Christ lived and taught. I invite each one of us individually to recognize that how we disagree is a real measure of who we are and whether we truly follow the Savior. It is appropriate to disagree, but it is not appropriate to be disagreeable. Violence and vandalism are not the answer to our disagreements. If we show love and respect even in adverse circumstances, we become more like Christ.” – Quentin L. Cook

Another Thimble Flag

“Violence as a way of achieving racial justice is both impractical and immoral. I am not unmindful of the fact that violence often brings about momentary results. Nations have frequently won their independence in battle. But in spite of temporary victories, violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones. Violence is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all. It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the opponent rather than win his understanding: it seeks to annihilate rather than convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love. It destroys community and makes brotherhood impossible. It leaves society in monologue rather than dialogue. Violence ends up defeating itself. It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

Hen and Chicks

Slow Cooker Chicken with Stuffing

2 carrots, diced

1 onion, diced

2 celery stalks, diced

5 pounds whole chicken

1/2 cup salted butter melted

1 teaspoon thyme

1 teaspoon sage

1/2 teaspoon paprika

Pepper to taste

6 ounces boxed stuffing mix

Rinse bird and pat dry with paper towels. Add vegetables to slow cooker; place bird on top. Pour melted butter and seasonings on top of bird. Cover and cook on low for seven to eight hours. Remove bird to a platter; cover with foil. Drain vegetables, reserving liquid. Return vegetables and 1 1/2 cups liquid to slow cooker. (You can make gravy with the remaining liquid.) Add stuffing mix to vegetables. Cover and cook ten more minutes. Fluff with fork. Serve.  

Ants Under Glass

A colony of ants is called a “formicary.” It can consist of one or more egg-laying queens and a large number of workers who tend to her (or their) needs, build and maintain the nest, forage for food and care for the young. Some insects live only a few days or hours, but the queen ant of one particular species – Pogonomyrmex Occidentalis Owyheei or Western Harvester Ant – can live as long as thirty years. A single ant can lift up to fifty times its own weight, and when they work together, they can carry even more. Ants don’t have ears, and many of them don’t have eyes. They “hear” vibrations through their feet, and they can use their antennae to communicate. They also send chemical messages, or pheromones, to tell of danger or to give directions to a food source. The world’s largest ant colony (so far) was found in Argentina; it housed 33 populations and was 3,700 miles wide!

Nine Patch

Most days we walk the dogs twice: once in the morning when the air is fresh and the sidewalks are cool, and once just before bedtime because it improves sleep (both ours and the dogs’). For several weeks during our evening walks, as we pass by a house northwest of our own, we’ve noticed a neighbor sewing. In the frontmost room in her house, where I’d have put a grand piano, she has a sewing machine. She’s pulled her blinds wide open to catch the fading evening light, and her tabby cat supervises the work from atop the cutting table behind her. I’m not sure what she’s making – if she has a design wall, it’s not visible from the street – but I like to imagine she’s stitching face masks. I feel bad that I don’t know this woman, and she doesn’t know me. We live just a few yards away from each other, and we clearly have other things in common.