It's time for Coffee Cake

My mom left me a tattered, well-used and well-loved American Woman's Cookbook published by the Culinary Arts Institute of Chicago in 1947. Last night, as it was chilly and there was nothing to have with coffee, I pulled it out and found a somewhat splattered dog-eared page containing the recipe for Spicy Apple Coffee Cake. It took only minutes to prepare, and as I did, I thought of my mom, her great cooking and how, one day, I'd pass this cookbook on to my daughter. And maybe, just maybe, being a great cook herself, my daughter too might peruse this old book with its yellowed pages, with its cracked decaying spine and worn bluey-green cover, to produce this same cake for her loved ones.

The cake was so good, I hate to admit that it's already gone as we finished it off for breakfast!! Here's the recipe:

2 c sifted flour 2/3 to 3/4 c milk

1 tbsp sugar 2 or 3 apples

3 tsp baking powder 1/3 c brown sugar

3/4 tsp salt 1/2 tsp cinnamon

4 tbsp shortening (I used butter) 1 tbsp butter

1/2 c grated nippy cheese

Sift flour, b.powder, and salt together. Cut in shortening & cheese. Add milk to make a soft dough. Turn out on lightly floured board & knead for 1/2 minute. Pat the dough in ungreased 9" layer-cake pan. Pare apples, core and slice thin. Arrange apples in petal design over top. Sprinkle with brown sugar & cinnamon and dot with butter. Bake in hot over 425 degrees for 25 minutes. It's delish! Enjoy...we certainly did.

Our new vocation or Who says you can't herd cats?

In a recent post about our cat family, I must update you! Momsie and her little crew, Roamer, Mr. Big and Frexie have all, happily, been adopted and are already in their forever homes. Sister and her husband adopted Roamer, promptly renamed him and he's now making their lives more interesting, not to mention their dog's life too!

The Shelter's foster coordinator, never one to miss a chance at filling an empty home, quickly loaded us up with 6 more kittens: a male and his five sisters. They were the offspring of a feral cat who was captured, spayed and now is likely on death row as her wild nature prevents her from ever being tamed, poor thing. Her babies had taken up residence in the woodpile in a lady's garage. The kind lady managed to capture them; hence, our new additions. Mission impossible is to tame and socialize these little wildcats so they too can find new homes.

For a week we kept them confined in a carpeted room, complete with ironing board so they could enjoy the window. They were extremely skittish and scared, hiding in anything that even remotely cover their backs. Here's how we found them, their first night at our place...all gathered in a row.

Left to right, they are:

Minnie (Mouse), Blaze (the trailblazer), Hillary (after the mountain climber), Dot-the-Spot, Pinky (ever shy) and Kally (the calico). The two grays have very different textured coats; the others all have calico faces but three are quite white-bodies, while the fourth is very calico.

We had a few worries in the early days as three came down with cat "colds" (upper respiratory infection) but the Shelter provided meds that quickly fixed that. Although it's an airborne bug, we dosed everyone for a week, and managed to fend off more infection. One, Dot-the-Spot, like the meds so much she'd come up to you asking for it! The rest, not so much.

Our next problem was moving the freezer as, being expert woodpiler-hiders, the kits had no problem burrowing behind the freezer! Check out the photos on Facebook to see how we found them. Out of the kitten room and into the kitchen the freezer went.

We have gradually introduced them to more of the house, taking care to eliminate hidey-holes to they can't sequester themselves away from us. We handle them as much as possible, brushing them, checking for ticks & fleas, and of course, just lots of petting so they do get lots of loving. There's nothing like a blanket of 6 purring, warm little fuzzballs on your lap.


When it's feeding time, I call them in a falsetto voice: Here, babies! Here, babies! and they come running. Who says you can't herd cats? But what's funniest is when hubby does the call, imitating me. They still come running and it's a hoot to see them all milling around his slippers! Food is a really big incentive!

Apart from those who've shown potential as computer programmers (a couple are helping me type this very minute), we've also discovered several of the kits aspire to be sanitation engineers. As soon as the scoop starts disturbing matters in the litter box, 2 or 3 jump right in to "assist", and of course, add to the "matter"! It's an unceasingly interesting activity to them, a little less so to us, naturally.

A friend gave them a magic wand, yes, a magic wand which they love to chase. For us, its magic is in the fact that all six will follow it avidly which is how we get them back to their room at night so we can enjoy a night's rest. Who says you can't herd cats?

Our life is enriched by these little comedians in fur coats. Their purring is calming, their antics better than anything TV can provide, and their trusting eyes, as they slowly learn how to handle us (yes, the shoe is soon on the other foot), make this one of the most satisfying volunteer "jobs" we've ever had!

Parting's sweet sorrow

The past two weeks have been veiled in sadness like a damp scotch mist with the odd ray of sunshine to help push us back to the happy side of life. With heavy hearts, we handed off our first two kittens, Mr. Big & Frexie, to the local humane society for adoption.

Shortly after, we learned our sister-in-law had suddenly passed on. The eulogies at the memorial service paid homage to her memory and it was with mixed emotions we greeted family and old friends not seen in ages. Happy to see people but not under those circumstances. Such is a funeral. It's sobering to think my brother is now a widower, the first of our family to lose his spouse. And the rest of us have lost someone we've all known since childhood.

The family reunion too was bittersweet as we gladly reconnected with distant family members but regretfully, they too had to leave the party earlier than planned as a dear cousin on our cousin's mother's side had passed on.

We were pleased to reconnect with an old friend in Orangeville, enjoy her company and a fine meal plus a tour of the town. Our stay in the McKittrick Bed & Breakfast was also a highlight, as the bed was so fantastic we almost missed breakfast which was a gastronomic delight: a "cocktail" of fruit/yogurt/granola followed by farmers' market delectables, thickly buttered toasty fruit bread and strong coffee.

Happily in Whitby we surprised hubby's niece's family on the hot Saturday afternoon & enjoyed their company with a cool one poolside. On the way home, near Tweed, we picked up some home-made blue berry pies to share with friends. So good to be home.

Then sister came to pick up our last kitten, Roamer. We put that crazy little guy in the cat cage for transport. Of course, Mumsie showed her concern by walking around the cage and mewling to her last kit; she knew what was about to happen. When he reached thru the cage to pat his mum with his little white paw, my heart broke. Sister's renamed him already thus more finally cutting any ties that bind.

The next day hubby took Mumsie to the H.S. while I avoided the teary farewell by making a blood donation. Mumsie will be spayed then given to her new owner. We mentioned her predilection for licking venetian blind cords and chewing on the tassels. I imagine that was what she did when abandoned in her former home.

We went back to the H.S. however, to pick up our next family of kits: a 6-pack who'd been living, wildly, in a woodpile. I got to give Mumsie a final bit of loving then we headed home with the little ones ~ 5 girls and 1 boy ~ to spend the next few weeks nurturing and socializing them. So far we identify them by their physical traits: Bigspots, Littlespots, Fuzzyspots, Mickey (has arches over his eyes like Mickey Mouse ears), Blaze (who has a white "blaze" between his shoulders) and Callie who is calico. Three are hearty and active, one is fair to middling and the other 2 seem weak and traumatized. We hope to get them all on an even keel.

Yes, I get too attached. Yes, it hurts to give them back to the H.S. although I know they'll end up in good homes. All in our first "family" have. I've done my ugly cry and hope I'm over it...but no doubt the tears will fall again in a few weeks time when I fall apart at the Humane Society in front of the inventory they have of 110 cats + the 6 we'll be returning.

Wherever, whoever you are...please consider adopting a cat. Having a cat in your life is a wonderful experience for both you and the lucky cat.

The Little Blackfly

My blogname is derived from that most infamous of pests: the blackfly. Growing up as we did in Northern Ontario alongside the Abitibi River, it behooved us - thanks to our teacher, Miss Glendenning's not-so-subtle encouragement - to learn Wade Hemsworth's song "the Blackfly". What is wonderful is that Christopher Hinton (National Film Board) used Hemsworth's song to create this marvelous little film. Do enjoy it.

At the same time this brings back memories of what we wore to save our scalps from the pernicious little buggers: fly hats. Now a fly hat was not a thing of beauty but we kids did look kind of cute. You take your standard men's handkerchief (now a rare thing to find) and you tied a knot in the top right and left hand corners. You placed the kerchief on your child's head with these little "rabbit ears" knotted corners at the child's temple then knotted the remaining two corners under his or her chin. It did save most of the scalp but many of us came home with bites running with blood (as blackflies don't seal their bites with anticoagulents the way skitters do) all along the backs of our necks. Ahhhh, the good old days!

Our new "family"

As many of you may know, we are fostering a pregnant cat we'll call Momsie for the Humane Society. Not knowing how pregnant she was, we didn't know when to expect her litter. Four days later, we knew.

I'd been out socializing with the girls but got home at noon in time for hubby to nervously exclaim "You're just in time! The contractions have started!" I check her nether regions and sure enough there's a little black tail protruding. Oh no! Breech. We check a website for advice; they tell us not to worry so we massage her long spine which seems to comfort her although her contractions are quite intermittent.

At 12:55, no. 1 arrived safe and sound. Momsie did her job cleaning up her kit and chewing the umbilical cord to enable baby to separate. We're not sure of the kit's sex but it's black and white with a pretty white swoosh on the crown of his head. Already, s/he's a good rooter, looking for milk.

Half an hour later, no. 2 arrived but in the usual way: head first. And what a large head. Even Momsie squealed a little when he arrived. He's larger than no. 1 and an orangey/blonde colour. Again, Momsie dedicates herself to his cleanup & detachment.

At 2:10pm, the contractions produce a back foot! Oh, no, not another breech! All goes well and Momsie produces a tiny replica of herself, a black, white and orange calico. Once all Momsie's administrations are done, all 3 bobbleheads inch their way around, toward their just rewards and all settle down.

Ah, what a relief. Momsie's done a great job, all three kittens look healthy. No. 1 has turned in feet but they straighten out after a couple of days. No. 2 is definitely the largest and most likely male. No. 3 seems very assertive and is the most active. All is well, and we now have a beautiful little cat family.

Anniversary

We celebrated 40 years of marriage yesterday: it was a lovely warm sunny day, full of activity and friendship. We updated some of the gardens around the pool with Barb, Doris and Jack, Don and Bill. Then, while hubby headed back to the condo for a nap, I caught some rays and hot tubbed. Then, all dolled up, we were off to a lovely meal at the Bon Appetit in Dunedin with Fran & Bob, Judith and Paul, while the sun slowly set in the Gulf. A pianist played and we danced to the Tennessee Waltz. We lingered over coffee, conversing with our friends and soaking up the lovely ambiance. Not wanting the evening to end, we indulged in dessert & coffee at Hellas Bakery on our way home - damn the calories, full speed ahead!

And today, reflecting on yesterday, I realize what "happy" is...it's the above. Time, effort, food, conversation shared with others. When I'd asked my friend to join us for our anniversary, she asked, "Wouldn't you rather be alone, the two of you?" And while I love [relish !] being alone with my man, I have to say the inclusion of others while we enjoyed this milestone intensified our enjoyment.

David Brooks of the New York Times wrote about happiness in a recent column : "the daily activities most associated with happiness are sex, socializing [after work] and having dinner with others." What more can I say? We's happy!!

Repetitive Emails

This is a simple request for all my friends and relatives to review their group contact lists to help avoid sending duplicate emails. Here's what I really mean:

A receives an email from B. B has also included addressees C thru Z. A also has a distribution list for C thru Z and forwards B's email on to these same people. The result is an email, most usually a joke, getting sent umpty-ump times to the same people....and so on.

So just a word to the wise: please check (if it's not a blind cc) to ensure you're not contributing to email spam. Thank U!

Dance ~

I've been dancing for years yet I've never fully understood until recently that dance is really language. As I dance with my partner, I realize he is "speaking" a language, conveying messages with his hands, his eyes, a turn of his head or body. In partner dance, the hands are the most important. For a man to lead, his hands must braille moves onto his partner's back or to the palm of her hand. His hand pressing on a lady's "angel wings"...he pulls her in here, pushes her there, a touch to the side,...a lifted hand, a hand pulled down, or out or away...it's all an indication of go here, go there, twirl now, keep twirling, swivel, stop, go past me, come back, do this move, do that move. Oh so easy.

But: when the touch is too light, it's hard for a lady to know where to go or what to do. If she guesses, she could make a wrong move. Also, the lady needs her partner's support, particularly when doing certain spins like "ochos". Being a pushy broad, I'm often told I'm "leading" but gentlemen: really, I only do it in the absence of your lead. I've recently tried leading (in our dance class there's a shortage of men) and now I understand why men sometimes have a soft lead. It takes a certain confidence to insist via pressure points on where you want someone else to go. So even though I am pushy (yes, I'm admitting it), I too find it hard to convey with a touch what I want my partner to do.

As with any language, it takes time. My partner and I, though we've been dancing for over 40 years, are still perfecting our "vocabulary" in dance. We have good days and bad days. When I insist on a stronger lead, he tells me he can't concentrate on the steps and me too! Dance is dance. As they say, it takes two to tango and we are learning the Argentine Tango so we must bear with each other while we learn this new "language". We love it though as it has drama, and unexpected action, and a sensuality we don't find in most North American dances. We ardently hope to become "fluent". Wish us luck!

Here's a little taste of the Argentine Tango music we dance to. It's on Youtube and is called Gotan Project's Epocha. Enjoy!

I believe

I do believe in miracles altho admit in my own life they've happened rarely. We each define miracles differently as Oxford in its definition acknowledges:

miracle
• noun 1 an extraordinary and welcome event attributed to a divine agency. 2 a remarkable and very welcome occurrence. 3 an outstanding example, specimen, or achievement.

— ORIGIN Latin miraculum ‘object of wonder’.

My object of wonder was a miraculous recovery of goods. I'd been shopping for pillows last Sunday at Sears, and my next stop was at Pier One where I bought a tacky little ring, a bracelet and an evening purse, all on sale. But once back home, I got busy, stuffing the pillows into their cases and prepping the house for my soon to arrive guest. I meant to show my hubby my purchases but time and busy-ness precluded that and it wasn't until after my guest arrived that I thought to dig out my latest buys. They were not to be found. Not under the bed, not in the closet, not in any drawer, not, not, not.

My guest, ever logical, had me retrace all my steps. Retracing my steps in itself is a miracle as "memory serves" is an expression that no longer applies to me. But I did recall putting my Pier One bag in with the pillows to carry them into the house more easily. Well then, my bag must still be in the Sears bag. Where is the Sears bag? Well, it's over at the local charity, the Gulf Hospice, where we weekly deposit all our plastic bags for them to bag their clients' goods. Now that happened on Monday; it was now Friday.

Being an optimist, I go to the Gulf Hospice and enquire. The ladies check all the bags. Nothing. But the manager asks what I lost; I describe the items. "Here's one," she says taking me over to the jewellry counter where my bracelet is hanging still with the Pier One original sales tag and the discount tag! Amazing. "Give me a minute," she says then returns with a big bag of jewellry which contains, miraculously, my evening bag and ring!

Now understand that Gulf Hospice is an extremely busy second hand store, with all kinds of goodies at very cheap prices. It's incredible that my items weren't sold in minutes. Or maybe it was Divine Intervention. Or maybe my taste is sooooo tacky, that one one else in their right mind would buy my stuff even at bargain prices!!

Christmas 2009

2009 was our first Christmas in Florida and I faced it with some trepidation. Yes, we are here by choice, having chosen a temperate clime over a frigid one, but that also meant choosing to leave family and our own little traditions behind at a very special time of year.

But friends, old and new, made the days before, during and after Christmas a joy. The marvels of modern technology too meant we could communicate with our loved ones to share the joy of Christmas season.

I practiced Christmas carols daily on my new piano, and my friend from down the street dropped in regularly as well to practice her piano carols and we actually played some duets which I really enjoyed.

We attended a Living Christmas Tree concert and enjoyed looking at the spectacle (similar to the one pictured here ) as well as listening to the many carols, old and new, which the “tree” presented. There were also short skits and scenarios representing various aspects of the Christmas story, all very entrancing.

Friends made sure that early in December we enjoyed a good, old homemade turkey dinner replete with all the fixin’s including very potent rum balls! Boy, was it every good!

Friends made sure we were invited to a pre-Christmas party, where we enjoyed meeting new people, renewing our acquaintance with others and sampling a wonderful table groaning with a variety of decadent hors d’oeuvres!

Friends made sure we had a Canadian friendship Christmas Eve...we both invited other friends over to our place to share an evening of music, singing, conversation and good food and drink. That it was the “White Lake contingent” but for a few other Canadians and Americans, was lovely.

Hubby made sure we attended an almost midnight mass...so it started at 9pm but the well-practised choir made sure we enjoyed and participated in singing carols for an hour with the occasional solo by very good singers, a trumpeter (female!) and a flutist. Then the actual mass began, and although everyone was in warm weather attire - I was sleeveless! (no parkas or tuques to be seen), it could have been a Christmas Eve mass anywhere.

Friends made sure we went out to a lovely restaurant for Christmas dinner and again, turkey, dressing, all the trimmings made sure our tummies felt the usual over-stuffing despite our annual best of intentions! And the margaritas were an added touch!

Floridians are like people all around the world when it comes to Christmas lights. The home and store displays were spectacular! Some homes have actual poinsettia TREES! Beautiful. So, there’s no snow but there is still plenty of beauty for the eye to soak up. And in the dark, one barely misses the lights’ reflection on snow.

Our tree was the smallest tree we’ve ever had (a tiny fake evergreen, festooned in pink and gold). But it twinkled merrily and red candles, a flaming red poinsettia (a gift from our neighbours), cookies from friends and my painting of a great big Christmas tree on our patio door, all added to the festive look of our condo. Our neighbour festooned our joint condo with outdoor lights which illuminated our corner of the street, always a welcome sight driving home at night after being out dancing.

One thing I didn’t miss was the trepidation of driving in the snow...and I breath a sigh of relief as I write that.

So, in sum, Christmas in Florida ain’t half bad. It came and went as it always does, too quickly. We enjoyed each other, our family and friends, and our little home-away-from-home albeit in somewhat different ways from what we are used to. But the fellowship of Christmas remained intact as did the spiritual celebration. After all, isn’t that what it’s all about?

The above image is thanks to Dave Dieter / Huntsville Times.

No more mortgage hunting

Now, where was I? Oh, yes...we'd looked at a fixer-upper. And decided after 1) seeing it and 2) after the cruise that yes, we'd like to buy. But as you know, you cruise - you lose! We should have made our move right after point 1! Someone made a successful bid the very day we looked. So you guessed it, we lost out. Now there are at least 18 units for sale here, some on MLS, some privately. We made a contract offer with another lady but were refused.

So, despite our yearnings, we're going to follow our investment counsellor's advice and sit tight and rent again next year. So far, we've maybe 3 or 4 choices (2 for sure, 2 iffy). We have decided to rent one upper on the water, with a kitchen balcony facing the morning sun and a lanai facing the evening sunset. The best part is it has a King in the Master Bedroom, and a queen in the guest room. Why is that the best part? Because you have to sleep 7 or 8 hours as do your guests and if no one is comfie, then you're in a dud. The orientation to the sun is also important as we are Canadians looking (like geckos) to bask in the sun! The price is a consideration but you get what you pay for so for us, that's just part of the whole negotiation. That it be furnished is a must as we only bring clothes and golf clubs down with us (and occasionally a piano, or a living room set).

So, now we actually relax (people who know me will doubt this) and enjoy what Florida has to offer. No more real estate conniving...it's a hard addiction to give up but I AM TRYING!!!!