Kenzie is 9

Our (not so) little McKenzie was nine on Saturday. Jonnie had worked Friday night so Jeff and I picked up Jenny and the boys.

They were ready and waiting for us, eager for the festivities. These three love a good party. I am often sad that I can't better communicate with Jenny because I hear from those who know that she is a very fun person.
The four grandsons revel in each others' company and their enthusiasm is hard to dampen. They are like bouncy little puppies, but I managed to get them to sit still for a few moments while they kept saying"cheese" and waiting for me to figure out my camera's settings.

Kenzie loved this jewelry box from Jon and Jenny.

I think that the part Thomy and Jeff like best about parties is when they get to play with the new toys.

There are rodents in my Christmas tree!

Christmas is a'comin'...

...and the goose is getting fat,
Please to put a penny in the old man's hat.
If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do.
If you haven't got a ha'penny, God bless you!

In the good old days when the kids were young and we dragged Jeff out every year to cut our own Christmas tree, we sang this and other memorable Christmas carols all the way home. Jeff was inevitably grumpy because he hated cutting the tree, so we had to be careful not to push the merriment too far. It was always a fine line that we trod.
As Jonnie got big and manly enough to wield a saw, I would take the kids out while Jeff was at work and we did the dirty deed without his cantankerous presence. Then we just had to deal with "putting the tree in the tree stand," a whole other onerous chore.
Then I found a nice little tree farm close to home that cut the tree for you after you tromped around in the mud and chose it. The trees were not magnificent, but we tolerated them because the season became more peaceful and they were cheap. I will not mention certain children of mine who accused us of copping out. For a couple of years, I got away with doing it on my own. Then the remaining children insisted on being included and Jeff even tagged along.
About three years ago, our neighbours gave us their artificial, pre-lit tree because it was too big for their living room. Jeff has been in Christmas tree heaven ever since. This year, Jonnie lugged it down from the high shelf in the shed because Jeff had knee surgery the week before. On Monday night, Jeff set up the tree, carefully arranging the branches to his satisfaction.


It really is a pretty tree.


I have a thing for beautiful boxes. This one stores some of our bird ornaments.


I see that it is now Friday.
Today, I shall finish decorating for Christmas.
Really.

Menopausal Marauders

Last Friday was the annual World's Largest Christmas Bazaar in Portland. I've been attending, with various and sundry friends and relatives, for a few years. Memory being what it is these days, I couldn't tell you how many years, but I do know that at my first bazaar I bought the balloon guys that hang in the rec room. So I'm thinking maybe eight or ten years ago. (Missing balloon picture)
Kind of freaky aren't they? That corner is a cobweb magnet. I should've remembered before I took the photo. Or at least climbed on a chair and dusted it. But they fitted my adventurous hot-air-balloon-chasing lifestyle of the day. And my rec room decor. So home they came, from the World's Largest Christmas Bazaar. Which will be referred to hence as TWLCB. Six friends, including Bethany, joined me on the expedition. Intrepid souls one and all. I mean, I take these things seriously, no wimps allowed on my shopping excursions. We spent four hours wandering the two cavernous spaces of the Expo Centre, spending our cash on such delights as creamy fudge and telescoping Santas. The fudge was one slice for $8 or 4 slices for $12. What is a fudge lover to do? Hitting the bargains at the Avon booth, hoping for some magical anti-wrinkle cream. Contemplating buying $220 Z-coil shoes so that I can spend more time meandering the corridors of capitalism without leg pain. I may still visit the store and spend the money, although my doctor questions the validity of their claims. She actually CHUCKLED at the thought of springs in the heels. Bouncy gait. But it feels so good! We were supposed to meet at one o'clock to go home, but Karen and I decided we needed another hour. Somehow Bethany didn't get the message and sat in the foyer for almost an hour, thinking that we had gone home without her. For some reason, I didn't hear any of her calls to my cell phone. So sad. I felt like a terrible mother. On the way home we stopped for Thai food, in spite of my protestations. I despise Thai food. I had orange chicken. Much yummier. But a slight detour brought us to this adorable cottage. I couldn't resist the juxtaposition of these photos. Hot women, one and all. Who could not resist making rowdy comments about the aforementioned detour. Yes, Lori may look all sweet and innocent, but let me tell you, she has a sublime comment for every occasion. And Karen, driver extraordinaire, who blamed my navigating for the detour. And many other things. On the way home, a final note of irony. This was before the sheer numbers of his infidelity had come to light. Poor Tiger.

Post-Thanksgiving delight

I love a good cooking blog. A friend put me onto The Pioneer Woman Cooks, which is entertaining as well as full of great photos and delicious-and-decadent recipes. There is also Gluten-free Girl, whose blog I frequent in aid of Josh and Bethany's gluten-free-ness. Then I ran across this one, Mennonite Girls can Cook. So if you love cooking blogs too, check them out.
After Thanksgiving, I had a hankering for some good squash soup from one of my famous kabochas. It's a recent discovery of mine, that squash is good for something besides cookies and breads. So here are my instructions, with some pretty pictures.
Note, my recipe is, as always, flexible and adaptable. I never met a recipe that I didn't like to play with!

So first, roast the squash upside down in the oven till tender. Or microwave it, like the recipe says. I roasted mine, not having read the recipe yet. Here it is, nice and steamy and juicy.


Nasty, tough shell goes into the compost bin, of course, along with the seeds. I may have volunteer mystery squash vines in my compost next year.


I added sweet peppers to the original recipe, I like the slight tanginess that it adds to the soup. I used some from my freezer that were already sauteed.

I used vegetable water along with the turkey stock that was left over from Thanksgiving, then added a dollop of cream instead of the milk.
Flexible, remember?


A deliciously orange pot of soup.


KABOCHA SOUP

1 lb kabocha squash, seeds removed
1/2 onion, thinly sliced
1 yellow or orange sweet pepper, thinly sliced
1 Tbsp butter
2 cups chicken or beef stock
1 2/3 cup milk
salt and pepper to season

Place kabocha in microwave for a minute. Cut kabocha into small pieces. Saute onion and pepper slices with butter in a soup pot until softened. Add kabocha and saute together. Pour chicken stock in the pot. Simmer on low heat for about 20 minutes, or until kabocha is softened. Blend the mixture in blender and put it back in the pan. Add milk and bring to a boil, stirring the soup. Season with salt and pepper.
*Makes 4 servings

Haircuts

My Mum took the plunge, after seventy-odd years of long-hair-in-a-bun.


She loves it and wishes she had done it years ago.

Feeling inspired, I told my hairdresser, "Do whatever you want."
Hence, this particularly unflattering self-portrait.
Bearing in mind that it was on the way home from a grueling day at the World's Largest Christmas Bazaar.


It actually looks quite nice most of the time, although I had a hard time keeping hair out of my eyes while conducting a rousing music therapy session at the retirement home this morning. The activities director raved over my hair and said it made me look younger.
Hmmm.

'Tis the season...

...to be sociable, fala-lala-laaah, la-la-la-la.

So, since my whiny little blog post of a few weeks ago, there have been some lovely social developments.
First, my friend Lisa, who totally got it, instigated a Lunch. I truly believe that menopausal women appreciate the significance of Lunch better than any other demographic in the world. When someone actually INVITES you to lunch, as opposed to saying, "We must do Lunch sometime," it means they REALLY want to spend time with you. Doing two of the favourite things of menopausal women everywhere. Eating. And Talking.
So on Monday, after a few false starts, we met in Portland for a party. Our daughters were there, and Bayra, Lisa's daughter-in-law, and our old friend June. There should be a better way to say that. Long-standing friend? Perennial friend? Venerable friend? Antediluvian friend? I dunno, the thesaurus kind of fails me on this one. We ended up at Jake's Grill, after finding the great big wooden doors of the Western Culinary Institute's restaurant closed firmly against our pleas. Jake's was a good default. Fairly good food, reasonable prices, and a cosy booth in the bar. We insisted on a booth in deference to the other customers. Noisy women! Exceptional desserts, which is the most important thing, don't you agree?
So we spent two delightful hours catching up with each other's lives and could have spent longer, but duty called. So the pregnancy-and-childbirth side of the table and the menopausal side of the table hugged, said goodbye, and went our separate ways. I hope we do it again soon. Too bad I forgot my camera.

On Thursday, our Relief Society group has its annual soup dinner at Sleighbells, the ultimate Christmas store. It was fun, but the reason I am telling you this is to give me an excuse to post this photo of my dessert plate. Pumpkin roll, one of my favourite Thanksgiving treats.


I spent another delightful afternoon last Saturday with Bethany (Associate Event Planner) and her friends. We ate a potluck lunch and watched Twilight, the movie. We were a little tough on the movie, although it kind of screams out for criticism in many instances. For example, Edward's glittery skin. Um, not appealing at all. Crusty lizard skin, more like. In the book it sounded so, delicious, somehow. Anyway, I digress. After that treat, we drove over to the local theatre and watched "New Moon," which was infinitely better. Although, have you noticed how Bella NEVER smiles. I'm sure she was happier in the book.
So.
I have to ask.
Jacob?
Or Edward?