Who even knew such a thing existed? But thank the Lord it does. Your bagel is toasted on the cut side, while the other side (usually burnt by inferior toasters lacking Breakthrough Bagel Technology) is gently warmed. Gently. I'm also relieved to see this model has some "daftey" featured, becaude you wouldn't want to burn yourdelf when toadting bread and bageld and dtuff. Found while Christmas shopping on Amazon. (I won't spoil anyone's surprise; the person who asked for a toaster doesn't read this blog.)
The moral of the story is: it is much easier (and safer) to go out and just buy doughnuts. Vintage ads...so much fun. On the other hand, I was born several decades too late. My fiction could have had a market.
What a lovely tea kettle (too bad it's just a tad pricey for me). Lately, I have been rawther obsessed with kitchen things that are red. Not really sure why. Maybe I'm just getting too old to be neutral.
It will become my favourite coffee mug, and I will drink from it EVERY MORNING and meditate upon the message. I hope it's printed on both sides, so that Mr. P can see it too and follow instructions when the time comes (and it always does). Mrs. Beazly gets credit for discovering the image. Now all that remains is to find a Canadian gift shop that stocks the mugs, cuz Ann Taintor's site won't ship to Canada. (Frowny face!)
In a million different little ways. For at least the last 18 months, I have been trying to get to the nearest IKEA store (in Edmonton) to check out some kitchen cabinets and other stuff related to our ongoing reno. I would prefer to order my cabinets during one of their "Kitchen Events" because they give back a percentage (10% minimum) in gift cards. When you are spending in the thousands, that's hundreds of dollars worth of basically free stuff.
However, life has just been too busy for us to get away, even for a weekend (how does that happen?). Fate must step in and lend a hand. I had a not-great result on a medical test two weeks ago, and lo, I'm being sent for more testing this Thursday and Friday... in Edmonton.
Then I get an email this morning from IKEA: the next Kitchen Event starts today.
It's not likely that my reno will be completed by Christmas, but if my cabinets are ordered, that's a big step in that direction. And that should do my heart some good.
But if I don't remember it, my readers surely won't. My favourite St. Michael poem, with my favourite picture of St. Michael (on account of its looking all sort of Art Nouveau and stuff). And boy, do we need peace. Happy Feast of the Archangels.
To St. Michael in Time of Peace
Michael, Michael: Michael of the Morning,
Michael of the Army of the Lord,
Stiffen thou the hand upon the still sword, Michael,
Folded and shut upon the sheathed sword, Michael,
Under the fullness of the white robes falling,
Gird us with the secret of the sword.
When the world cracked because of a sneer in heaven,
Leaving out for all time a scar upon the sky,
Thou didst rise up against the Horror in the highest,
Dragging down the highest that looked down on the Most High:
Rending from the seventh heaven the hell of exaltation
Down the seven heavens till the dark seas burn:
Thou that in thunder threwest down the Dragon
Knowest in what silence the Serpent can return.
Down through the universe the vast night falling
(Michael, Michael: Michael of the Morning!)
Far down the universe the deep calms calling
(Michael, Michael: Michael of the Sword!)
Bid us not forget in the baths of all forgetfulness,
In the sigh long drawn from the frenzy and the fretfulness
In the huge holy sempiternal silence
In the beginning was the Word.
When from the deeps of dying God astounded
Angels and devils who do all but die
Seeing Him fallen where thou couldst not follow,
Seeing Him mounted where thou couldst not fly,
Hand on the hilt, thou hast halted all thy legions
Waiting the Tetelestai and the acclaim,
Swords that salute Him dead and everlasting
God beyond God and greater than His Name.
Round us and over us the cold thoughts creeping
(Michael, Michael: Michael of the battle-cry!)
Round us and under us the thronged world sleeping
(Michael, Michael: Michael of the Charge!)
Guard us the Word; the trysting and the trusting
Edge upon the honour and the blade unrusting
Fine as the hair and tauter than the harpstring
Ready as when it rang upon the targe.
He that giveth peace unto us; not as the world giveth:
He that giveth law unto us; not as the scribes:
Shall he be softened for the softening of the cities
Patient in usury; delicate in bribes?
They that come to quiet us, saying the sword is broken,
Break man with famine, fetter them with gold,
Sell them as sheep; and He shall know the selling
For He was more than murdered. He was sold.
Michael, Michael: Michael of the Mustering,
Michael of the marching on the mountains of the Lord,
Marshal the world and purge of rot and riot
Rule through the world till all the world be quiet:
Only establish when the world is broken
What is unbroken is the word.
I had a hankering to make pumpkin pie yesterday, so I told Miss P #4 to go find the smallest orange pumpkin in the patch. Oh dear. This baby weighed 15 pounds. I think we'll also have Pumpkin Corn Chowder for dinner tonight. I may post the recipe if it turns out.
Although it would seem, depending on whom you consult, that both of them could be spelled both ways, so that just makes life more confusing. While I'm sure you could make some form of music with a kitchen slicer, you would not likely be able to julienne carrots with the musical instrument (unless you had really, really sharp strings).
Part of the reason I was not online much this past summer is that I was having a difficult time keeping up with the garden. Still am. As I speak, there are three boxes of tomatoes in varying stages of ripeness, staring me in the face. We have already processed 2-3 large boxes: I made two huge batches of salsa and Mr. P and I have frozen countless 1-liter bags of tomatoes for cooking. And if I see another cucumber before next June, it will be too soon. We discovered, over the course of making a type of marinated sweet pickle, that our two (TWO) food processors cannot slice cukes thin enough. So I decided to buy a mandoline. (Though it will not, I fear, help in any way whatsoever to deal with the 15 or so huge pumpkins still lying outside in the garden...)
I read about a thousand reviews covering mandolines in every price range from $20 to $400. I looked at French models, German models and the ubiquitous models made in China. I'm ashamed to say that I bought a Chinese one (the model pictured above, actually), but in the end I was reluctant to spend a lot of money. The reason for this is that no matter how expensive a mandoline was, it still had some bad reviews. So what's a hausfrau to do? I paid under $21 for it on Amazon. If it ends up getting broken in the next few weeks, I will probably return it and go buy a $139 French one at Lee Valley. (This model was not reviewed on Amazon, but Lee Valley generally carries only good quality merchandise and in any event is very good about returns.)
The Amazon ("Progressive" brand) model arrived the other day, and it seems to work OK. It did a good job of cutting beets (which are super-hard) into matchstick juliennes (raw beets are a great addition to salad, but grating them is incredibly messy. Hint: grate or shred directly onto paper towel, then blot). It also sliced effortlessly through orange skin, to make lovely even slices (Mrs. Jones will be happy to hear this, as it will speed up our sangria-making sessions). And it slices cucumbers very thin, so the sweet-pickle job will not be so onerous next year (we made about 16 liters of sweet pickles this year: that's a lot of hand-sliced cucumbers).
It should also be good for making home-made potato chips (or crisps, as they say in the UK; over there, fries are chips.) And speaking of which, the only thing I was not thrilled with was the fries--the Progressive cuts them too thin and too short. This mandoline will never do the same job as my old Starfrit potato chipper, which gave up the ghost (and several blades) last year.
Also, the Progressive's finger-guard (thing that resembes a derby hat) is a little clumsy to use, so I will probably buy a cut resistant glove to speed jobs along. All in all, I hope it will make a difference making things like soups, salads, stir fry, and pizza, which require a lot of finicky cutting and slicing of veggies. I have had to go on a heart-smart diet recently, so I need to eat a lot more raw veggies.
Lastly, DOES ANYONE WANT A 30-POUND PUMPKIN (or six)?????
Sat and listened to this. Heaven, but then Chopin usually is. What made it even more wonderful was that it was played by our own western Canadian world-superstar Jan Lisiecki (and AHEM, whoever posted this video, Jan is CANADIAN-Polish, not the other way around. He was born and raised not five hours from where I live.)
Jan played this same Nocturne for his first (of two) encores Friday night. Just beautiful. He is so very talented and yet is still sweet and humble. He treats his audiences with the same professionalism and respect whether he is at the Royal Albert Hall (below) or in a significantly smaller venue, like Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Long may he continue to delight audiences (he is all of 18 years old).
Nay, I need it, which is saying something more. Looking forward to November 12.
Many thanks to Deborah G, who posted a link about it on Facebook; otherwise I would not have heard of its existence. UPDATE: Many more thanks to Mrs. Beazly, who wrote to me about this book a full FOUR months ago. Ye gods, it's a depressing thing when your memory starts to go...
I am by no means an expert on grammar (or anything, except perhaps laziness and procrastination) but it makes me crazy when I find mistakes in homeschooling teachers' manuals or texts and workbooks. And not just typos, but grammatical errors or incorrect answers. Such as:
I was watching "Bewitched" on Netflix with my two youngest gals the other evening, and Darren's mom was pouring coffee with a similar carafe. My mother did not have one of these, but I had a toy one. I wish I had the full size verision. So cute. I have a thing for coffee carafes, tea pots, pitchers and jugs.
There is a reason for studying great literature. It gives us insight into human nature, with the hope that we will learn something, especially about ourselves, and thus attempt to remedy our defects. I'm willing to wager that President Obama has never studied (or even read) Pride and Prejudice.
Man enough to admit he is not perfect; fuller self-awareness (and repentance) achieved by plot denouement
Eariler in the novel...
Mr. Darcy: "I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding."
Rough translation: I want to appear just muscular enough not to be mocked.
Americans who support Obama have truly gone down the rabbit hole: they are willing to start a world conflagration so that their self-delusional leader won't look like a fool. Hint: that ship has sailed.
Americans don't agree with my policies because they are too stupid to understand them. Do they not realize that I have much to recommend me, and that it is by no means certain that another offer of such a president may ever be made to them? I must therefore conclude that they are not serious in their rejection of me and my war-mongering; I shall chuse to attribute it to their wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of inelegantly obtuse subjects and serfs.
Jane Austen would have known how to deal with Obama: "Nothing so easy...laugh at him."
Happy September! Here we are, on the first day of school. Found this video this morning on Facebook and just had to share it with you. If it doesn't make you smile, then you are probably comatose or possibly dead. It is totally worth the entire 7 minutes. You don't even have to like Irish fiddle music (but it helps.)
For those of you who don't know of her, Natalie MacMaster is a very lovely, talented, energetic lady from Canada who plays traditional fiddle music and can dance up a storm. Frequently both at the same time. My husband and older girls saw her in concert some years back, and she is an amazing, amazing performer.
For a celebrity, she also has her head on straight. Many years ago, I saw her being interviewed on TV by a (secular) journalist. The interviewer asked Natalie what her ambition was for the future. (By this time the young, vivacious Natalie had already achieved much recording success and worldwide recognition for her art). Her answer? She hoped to get married and have babies. And did she ever.
Quotation from her website bio: "If anything, family has reinvigorated Natalie MacMaster’s commitment to the stage and her audience.“I like being on stage even more,” enthuses the mother of five, who gave birth to son Alec in August 2012."
Good on you, Natalie (and husband, Donnell Leahy, who is also a professional musician)! They are Catholic, by the way.