Dandelion Jelly: We're Back And It's Spring!

First of all, let me apologize for my long absence. Two weeks of it are readily attributable to moving and not having internet access, but the rest is just plain life.

It's great to be back home. There are still boxes acting like decoration in several rooms, but enough has been settled back into its place to make it feel like home again and everyone is functioning well. The emotional transition took all of about 3 days, I think. We've traded the frustration of traffic for the frustration of slow drivers, but I'll take it any day. We've had very nice weather for the most part, and the hammock has been up occasionally. The lawn has had its first haircut, we had a wet, heavy snowstorm (yes, in that order), the early seeds are in (peas, beets, lettuce) even though it's a bit late. They yard needs all kinds of work, but I'm up to the task.

Yesterday, my two young sons picked an insane amount of dandelions in our meadow and piled them in my lap. What's a mom to do? Make jelly, of course! I knew dandelion leaves were edible, so it makes sense that the petals are too. I'd bet you could also substitute violets, since I know they also come from an edible family. I make a very pretty rose petal jam annually which we learned to love in Turkey. I've tried rose hip marmalade, but it was horribly labor-intensive and the recipe wasn't that good. This, too, requires patience or maybe a small party of friends/children to help. But this jelly is actually worth it! It has a delicate, light flavor reminiscent of lemon honey. Makes roughly 4 (6oz) jelly jars. Easily doubled, if you have that kind of time....

Maren's Dandelion Jelly

2 cups yellow parts of dandelion blossoms (no green at all), plus about 3 blossoms' worth for garnish

1 1/2 cups boiling water

2 1/4 cups sugar

1 Tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

fine zest from 1/2 lemon

1/2 package powdered pectin (about 2 1/4 Tablespoons)

small amount of yellow food coloring, optional

Gather a basket full of the biggest dandelions you can find. Pull the yellow from the green (easier said than done, but you don't want any bitter greens at all). You can process them in batches, freezing what you have till you have enough.

Place half the blossoms in the boiling water. Simmer over medium heat for 10 minutes. Strain, then repeat with the other half. Strain very well. If the water no longer measures 1 1/2 cups, add water to make up the amount. To the water, add lemon juice, sugar, pectin, zest and garnish blossom petals. Bring to a rolling boil and stir till sugar is dissolved, then boil hard for 1 minute. Pour into hot jars and seal. Process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

Adapted from a recipe by Mary Fillmore on Recipe Gal website. Recommended listening while working: copenhagencast.com. The Danish you'll learn is just a bonus.

Relocation Nursery Rhyme

One, two,

Do I need this shoe?

Three, four,

Wash the door.

Five, six,

Pack up sticks.

Seven, eight,

Keep it all straight.

Nine, ten,

We're moving again. 

Seven days till moving day and I think we're going to make it. I am so fortunate to have such good friends. There were many offers for help and I've even accepted some. One friend arranged dinners, one came over and scrubbed the kitchen cupboards and washed the windows, one came and took all four kids (two days in a row), and one brought me Daily Chocolate. You can't ask for better friends! You all are the BEST and I'm very sad to be leaving your circle even for a little while. The excitement of being in a new place will hit me about the time we get to Maryland, and I fully expect to be able to enjoy it, despite this dismal feeling of leaving Vermont. But it's still hard, and it still hurts. 

In the mean time, my porch is now like a giant game of Tetris as I fit boxes and odd-shaped items here and there. We are also having a birthday party at the park for the 5-turning-6 year old, so there was some prep for that today. Many of the list leeches (items that I have been meaning to do but never got around to) are being crossed off. Whew!

Now the countdown is on. Switch to plastic dishes and cutlery: check. Kids down to a suitcase of clothes: check. Renters have keys: check. Last mow of the yard: check. Tears: check. Faith: check. 

I should be just fine.

I Have a History With This Field

(A Driving Tour of Vermont Route 116)

By Maren Mecham

I have a history with this field. 

I watched through the summer as the short soybeans grew like a carpet

and white morning glory vines took over the hedgerows. 

I have a history with this field. 

Every time manure was spread here, I had to shut my windows.

I have a history with this field.

It was here that I remembered how my friend mourns the end of summer 

when the corn is finally harvested and the field is left 

with stiff, dry, truncated reminders of the green that is gone.

I have a history with this field. 

This field made me marvel as the low October morning sun and shimmering dew

collaborated to illuminate a thousand sparkling spider webs in the grass. 

I have a history with this field.

This is the one that made my children shout, “Horses! Horses on the right!” 

and as I passed I knew my favorite pond was just around the bend.

I have a history with this field. 

Here I saw a flock of turkeys in November, 

hunting and pecking between the corn stalks. 

My daughter asked, “What color are turkeys’ eyes?” 

“Red, I think. Let’s ask Grandma.”

I have a history with this field. 

It isn’t very big. In fact, it’s child-sized.

Not more than an acre by the barn. 

But this one is my favorite. 

This is the field in which I grew my children. 

(Someday I'd like to make this into a book with illustrations, but maybe not this year.)

More of the Same Chaos

A thousand excuses come to mind, not one of them worth much. It's a busy time.

My days are filled with the same joys, challenges, and duties as usual and my precious evening hours are spent cleaning the cellar and packing boxes. Tape, permanent markers, and a certain clipboard are my companions as I track the fate of everything we own. A baseball cap, jeans, a work shirt and rubber gloves are my uniform late at night as I separate the good cardboard boxes from the moldy ones and sweep up little piles of basement filth.

My poor husband's office is being slowly overtaken by piles of long-term storage items as we fill it with non-essentials to which we are sentimentally attached. Skis. Half of the children's storybooks. Living room decor. The Egyptian hassock. Items from Deseret Book. Fabric. Still to do: add more cd's to my iTunes library so I don't have to take them. Clean out the bathroom closet. Pack the craft room. Et cetera.

The first potential renters came today to see the house and it went well. They are looking at a few places, but I think they liked it here. They have an almost-3 boy and a new baby boy and will be renting for a year while they are looking for a place to buy. One of them is a doctor and will be working at the local hospital. I do hope it works out... one less thing to lay awake at night thinking about. Next week, Q will be driving a car down to VA to see the house we hope to rent there- the one my sister's family is moving out of in Arlington. He will visit the school, his bosses at the State Department, and take a small load of items with him on the assumption that this house will be the one.

And so I continue my double-life: by day I'm an unassuming Super Mom but by night I become a ruthless sorter, a packing master-mind, and a terrifying cleaner. I strike fear into the hearts of spiders, dust, and empty boxes everywhere! (Insert dramatic super-hero music) Beware!

Spring Love

Happy Mother's Day to everyone!

A Short Part of the Long Trail

Yesterday was hectic. We had hoped to go on a family hike but couldn't fit it in among the other Saturday demands: chores, ballet lessons, helping friends move, toddler naps, play dates, and the church potluck dinner. But the idea of a "family hike" struck a chord with the 2 year old and he expressed his desire to go many times during the day. It wasn't forgotten overnight, either. He preferred it to going to church this morning but was overruled by the rest of us.

So, after his nap today, we finally went on the family hike. Our usual Sunday family "hike" is a leisurely stroll around the Robert Frost Interpretive Trail just up the mountain, but that trail suffered serious damage in last August's flood and most of it is still closed. So Q looked up a new one which was labeled "easy" in the Vermont Gazetteer. It was actually a 600 ft gain in elevation and 2.5 miles total from car to cliff and back. Post-hike research revealed that other sources label it "moderate to difficult" and I concur. 

We started at Middlebury Gap, where the Long Trail (which is part of the Appalachian Trail) intersects Route 125, roughly 15 minutes from our house. Q took the baby in the backpack and I was companion to Mr. Junior Collector who was fascinated by everything on the forest floor and stuffed his pockets full of goodies as he plodded along. He had to be convinced to put down the handfuls of sticks from time to time so he could be assisted up the terrain. I suffered from museum sickness* but tried to deal with it for his sake. The girls darted between Dad in the front and me in the back, with the 5 year old reporting all sorts of hiking "news" to her older sister who promptly jotted it all down with melodramatic flair in a small notebook. 

Silent Cliff Trail was enjoyable in a difficult sort of way and it was worth the sore quadriceps I will have tomorrow. The view was really amazing. I felt like I could see Colorado although it was really the Adirondack Mountains. And it was truly a cliff. Don't walk that path in dim light because it ends abruptly at a small rocky ledge and you are suddenly looking down 600 feet to Route 125. Perhaps it is called Silent Cliff because the cliff part sort of sneaks up on you at the end.

The little boys didn't get all the way to the cliff- don't worry. Part of the trail was still snowy and muddy (not to mention also steep), so Q and I tag-teamed at the end and I went first with the girls, then came back and let him go with them while the boys and I started back. The combination of steep downhill, a baby in a backpack, and wearing bifocals slowed me down and I felt conspicuously like a packhorse picking my way down the tree root stairs, holding on to the tendrils of saplings for assistance. 

Mr. Junior Collector had turned into Captain Belligerent and was carried part of the way on his Dad's shoulders. But the baby was singing lovely monosyllabic songs of contentment on the way down and the girls ran ahead of me, reaching the registration post first. The conscientious 9 year old signed us out so the rangers wouldn't worry about us. We all ended the family hike in good spirits- even the 2 year old- and headed home as the sun set, looking forward to a round of warm toast and jam and soft beds. 


*Museum sickness is something I get when I have to walk too slowly, as in museums. I get bored, impatient, can't concentrate, look up at the ceiling a lot and want to sprint. I have discovered that I do better at museums when I walk rather quickly and cover the whole place several times over- or sit down.

Spring Saunters In

The transition from Winter to Mud Season to Spring has been very gradual this year. We've not had any major disasters like ice storms, late snows (knock on wood), flooding or the like, so there's not much to complain about. It's gotten steadily warmer each week and the grass is slowly waking up from its comatose existence. The crocuses are fading and daffodils are taking over with their sunny-side-up faces and fresh fragrance. Hyacinths and tulips are on their way. No hurry, though. I'm willing to stretch things out this year knowing that it is likely I will not see these particular beauties next spring.

My spare time is now spent in real preparations for packing this mess of a house. Lately, I've been sorting through the boxes of clothes and shoes that various kids have yet to grow into. I have been the recipient of some truly fabulous hand-me-downs for the boys- really good stuff that is one, two, or three sizes too big for the older of them. So there's the stuff he will wear this summer, the clothes and gear for next winter, and then the items I think might fit him by the next summer. It's a bit of a guessing game, but it must be done- and for each child. Not as much for the oldest, but there is still some sorting to do for her.

The enclosed front porch has become the dumping ground for bags of clothes and piles of items to give away, and it's getting crowded. I suppose I ought to be making weekly trips to Neat Repeats and H.O.P.E. to keep it manageable. It is nice to be done with some of the bigger infant paraphernalia (anybody need an Excer-saucer?). Maybe we'll host a "tag sale" or perhaps it is time to figure out FreeCycle.

This year, spring cleaning will also include a trip to the dump to finally get rid of some broken items which cannot be fixed and have been accumulating in the basement for a few years. What a relief that will be! I am reminded that there can be advantages to moving occasionally. The eradication of useless (or seldom-used) junk, the critical eye which asks everything to earn its place in the long-term storage unit, the paring down to just-above-essentials for the year ahead- these are all very useful parts of the moving process. And I am also reminded that we will have the unique opportunity to move back into this same space; maybe we can be a bit smarter about how things get arranged the second time around.

So the general themes that run through my days are: Spring (yay!), Gardening (yay!), Moving (ack!), Two-and-a-half-year-old (!), and 11-month-old (!). We don't lack for excitement around here.

New York Crank Caller

So, the other day I had the following phone conversation:

Me: Hello?

Caller: (Older male) Hi. You're probably going to think this is a crank call...

Me: Hmmm. They don't usually start out that way, do they?

Caller: ... but I'm really just looking for any number in Middlebury because, y'see, I live across the Lake in New York and we have this stray alpaca here that everybody seems to think has come over from Middlebury. Do you know of any alpaca farms over there that might be missing one?

Me: (Trying to catch up) Uh... hmmm. Now let me think. I know there are some alpacas up on Route 116. I wonder if- let me pull out the yellow pages here and see what I can find.

Caller: Thanks. They keep stopping at the woman's house on the corner and saying that her goat is in the road- or some people think it's a deer or a llama, but I know it's an alpaca for sure.

Me: Rrriiight. Here we go- under "Alpaca". Looks like we have 3 farms in the county. I'll give you the numbers and you can give them a call. (Read phone numbers.)

Caller: (Relieved) Thank you so much. I really appreciate you taking the time to look that up for me. I'll call them right away.

Me: Sure- no problem. Good luck finding the owner. Have a great day.

Caller: You, too.

Click.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I love this town!

Tapping Tradition

It's the perfect March activity, especially for farmers. It gets Vermonters outdoors regardless of the weather and produces that liquid gold that we love so much. The tourist dollars and soaring maple syrup prices are a bonus. I wish I was in on the fun this year, but my sap bucket remains in the cellar for another time. I will do it again, though. And better than last time.

And this gave me reason to chuckle for a long time. Someone in my neighborhood has a, ahem, DRY sense of humor.

Winter Gallery

Recent images from Farmingdale and West Salisbury, Vermont. If I could print them as gum bichromates, you know I would....












©2009 Maren Mecham. Do not remove from this blog.

The Natives Are Getting Restless

It wasn't particularly warm today. There was still plenty of patchy snow on the ground. The sun set at 5:30, which isn't very late.

But still, still there was a feeling of restlessness among the family members today. The kind that usually comes with spring weather. It was containable, nothing out of control, but it was there. We decided to go for an afternoon drive.

We drove to Bristol and visited two friends. One had refinished part of their upstairs and we wanted to see the result. (It was very nice!) The other was a friend who requested I stop in whenever I was in town... so I did. Next we ventured to Vergennes to see if anyone else was home. Another family welcomed us and included us in the Sunday afternoon board game they were playing. We chatted about books, houses, whatever came to mind. The girls played upstairs- a rare "play date" for the four of them.

It felt good, reckless even, to go out spontaneously- without coats!- and visit friends mostly unannounced. We laughed in the face of the dying winter. We will outlast it, I'm sure of that now. Its unwelcome occupation will end as the earth revolts, rises up in her strength and breaks the chains of winter's hold. Spring! There is hope of spring.

Just feeling a little dramatic tonight.

In Vermont, Sunglasses Are Winter Gear

This is the time of year when I am especially grateful for sunshine. I know, sunshine usually goes with summer. But it's the low, glaring winter light reflecting off the pure white snow that keeps me from winter depression. I can even handle the seemingly endless days of below-freezing temperatures so long as the sun shines and fills my house with bright white light. It helps that the days are a bit longer, too.

It makes this favorite Mormon hymn float through my head.

Dreaming of Warmer Climes

The little boy loves to play in his ocean.

Dorothy Hamil Was My Hero

In January it's so nice
While slipping on the sliding ice
To sip hot chicken soup with rice
Sipping once, sipping twice
Sipping chicken soup with rice

Now that I have that old Carole King/Maurice Sendak favorite in your head, let me tell you what I did today. I started ice skating lessons! I didn't bring my chicken soup, but I did bring my stiff new ice skates (ouch!) and my courage.

A month ago, while perusing the list of available Middlebury College Winter Workshops, Q suggested I pick a 4-week class to try this year. Since I have little interest in Advanced Wine Education and Appreciation or Fly Casting or Kathak dancing, I chose something I've always wanted to do better: skating. I can keep myself up on the ice without holding on to the boards, but I've never had any formal instruction. As my in-law family members can attest, I could use it.

I missed the first two lessons last week due to travel, so I was not nearly as confident today as the other beginners. They were already doing swizzles and backward wiggles and pumps and stuff. They even knew how to stop- well, most of them did. But all 7 of us were clearly out of our comfort zones, wishing we didn't wobble so much and wondering when we were going to biff it. Luckily, none of us did.

I enjoyed it immensely despite the uncomfortable skates and slippery surface. It was fun to try something new that I'm most definitely NOT good at and see an improvement in an hour of guidance and practice. And the fun doesn't end there; tomorrow I get to see which muscles I only use on the ice!

Snow Loaf

We've had a bit of snow. Happy Holidays!

Sharing the Love

We have an advent calendar of holiday activities and each day the girls put a tiny ornament on the Christmas tree wall hanging and read a little slip of paper which gives us the day's activity. Some days it says "read a Christmas story book", sometimes it's "sing a Christmas song together". Once it says "visit the gingerbread house exhibit" and we go to the Vermont Folklife Museum. Once it says "Branch Activity" and we all go up to the church for great food, music and company.

Today it said "treat plates". Since it was about 12ºF outside, I left the napping boys at home with Dad and took the geared-up girls around the neighborhood. I carried the plates in a box and we went to most of our immediate neighbors' doors. As I've mentioned before I'm sure, Halloween is tolerable mainly because we get to go to all the houses around and say hello. But Halloween is just about as different from Christmas as any holiday can be aside from this one thing: I get to go around again. It's one of my very favorite parts of Christmas.

Making the treats is fun for me. I like a culinary challenge, so I rarely repeat my holiday offerings two years in a row (except for fudge). Taking the plates around to ten or so neighbors is more fun. There are a few neighbors who invite us inside the door to chat. This time with them is special because it's an education in local culture for the girls and bonding time for neighbors with whom we rarely have full conversations. I notice the little things, like religious sayings near the doorway, holiday decorations and the brightness of people's eyes. Some neighbors stand at the door and smile, accepting the goodies quietly and gracefully. Some aren't home, but will find the offerings as they return later.

Those who receive gifts which are freely given gain not just the gift, but joy as well. This is a concept we discussed last week in the LDS Religious Institute class I teach. We referenced the scripture found in the Doctrine and Covenants section 88:33 which reads: "For what doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receive not the gift? Behold, he rejoices not in that which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift." This is in reference to the gift of the Atonement and exaltation, but I found that it worked in a small way today as well. Anyone who happily receives a plate of cookies is better off in two ways.

But the receivers of gifts are not the only ones who come away with more. The givers also receive. We spent much of the mid-day high on the giddy feeling which comes from making other people happy without any expectation of reciprocation. In his recent talk on happiness President Uchtdorf mentioned the words of James Barrie, the author of Peter Pan: “Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” It's true. Despite the cold and falling snow, our day today was sunny and bright with the essential gift of Christmas: love.

In The Bleak Midwinter

The light of a mid-December afternoon is blue and dim, but there's still time for some outdoor fun. Life in Vermont is sweet.

I've Been Shot!

Yesterday, I was playing outside with the boys and I ran my hands over a yellow plastic rope. This was old rope, and I got several nasty splinters which were hard to see and quite painful. One of them made my thumb stiffen up and hurt all over. "Oh no, " I thought, "it's tetanus for sure!"

The nurse at my doctor's office was not as worried as I was. She said that if it was, I had 72 hours to get the shot. I opted for the next available appointment which was this morning. Driving up to Bristol, I was very glad to see gasoline at $1.89. Who would have guessed that it would ever be so low again?

My boys were great at the doctor's office. It's an Internal Medicine practice, so they don't see a whole lot of kids there and all the grandmas had to see if they could make the baby smile (which they did). I was ushered right in and the DTP booster (that's Diphtheria, Tetanus and Pertussis) took all of 2 seconds (whew!) and I wished I had brought myself a lollipop for being so brave. They asked me to stay there for a few minutes to make sure I wasn't going to have an adverse reaction, which was fine because the 2 year old had found several books in the waiting room he wanted me to read.

I love this place. I call the doctor one day, go in the next morning, get it done, then have to stay and read the stuff we didn't have time to read before the appointment because there was no wait- and this is not an isolated experience. I'm feeling grateful for good medical care.

Button Up

It's the buzz-word around here these days. Our first real snowy day has come and we are all reminded of how black ice feel under the tires. Coats are no longer optional (for the kids) and the full array of gear must be shoved into the backpacks. It's hat season.

The local paper has been advertising a little traveling seminar called "Button up Vermont" ( or maybe it's "Button Up, Vermont"). Anyway, it's about how to make your home more energy efficient and weatherproof. Homes around here are old and many of them were owner-built. Only the newest ones have any hope of being draft-free.

This week, the carpenter finished our new side door and I am really excited. We now have a beautiful wood door with six small windows along the top and a full-view storm door to help seal out the drafts. Gone is the cold metal door with the rusty, leaky corner! I still need a 40º day to paint the exterior trim, but I can be patient. One of these jobs makes room for another, and now I am itching to paint the family room. It is part of the addition that was added to the house in 1991 (long before we were here), and is still the oyster-white color hastily applied by the builders.

There are so many ways this little 1946 house could be improved... I suppose it could go on forever, really. New windows would do wonders. So would updated insulation and finishing the basement. I'll add an attached garage and paved driveway, while I'm at it. The office needs a complete remodel and the kitchen could use an update sometime in the next 10 years. Oh, and I've always meant to tear down the wallpaper and paint the dining room cobalt blue. There are floors to refinish and lighting fixtures to replace, but all in good time. For now I'm satisfied with the new door project. I'll apply shrink film to the draftiest windows again and maybe next year this old house will get another well-deserved button in its winter coat.

November in Vermont

November, the opposite of spring.

The mountains have been dusted with powdered sugar, there are ghostly wisps of clouds hanging above the foothills, and the valley is a patchwork quilt of all the hues surrounding chartreuse. The leaves that are still hanging on tight are not the brilliant colors of last month, but peachy-amber and thin. When the sky is not gray, it is an icy pale blue, held in place by white and ashen smudges. In my neighborhood, smoke has begun to curl out of chimneys, all bluish gray like that which is left over from making heat.

It's tempting to think of November as dreary- especially if it's compared to the recent past. But if contemplated purely in the present, November has glimmers of glory all its own. Around here, it has a fistful of family birthdays and of course there is the magnificently understated American holiday of Thanksgiving. (But now I'm getting into the future, aren't I?)

Last Saturday, our family put the morning chores off till afternoon and went for a walk. It was the kind of overcast day when one opens the door expecting cold air, but instead the temperature was the same outside and in. We walked to a river along a new boardwalk, over a marsh, and looked for birds. We discovered a meadow path with a circle of granite benches and decided it would be the new setting of future family councils. I cut across the field with the baby in my arms and found rainbow-colored grasses hidden between the tractor tracks. We ran along a windy trail, next to pastures that were done for the season. When the energy was gone, we went home for lunch. It was just the kind of November day I love: subtle, intricate, and peaceful.

What do you love about November?