Category: Uncategorized

Happy Easter. Chocolate Bunny, yes. Peeps, no.

As easter approaches I feel the need to remind you that peeps ™ are not food.

The ubiquitous marshmallow critters were a part of my spring tradition for decades. I don’t like marshmallows, and yet, each year I found myself putting one small sleeve of little yellow chicks into the easter basket. For a brief period I thought of myself as a kitchy version of Martha Stewart and baked cupcakes topped with frosting and a toasted coconut nest with a brooding peep upon her jelly bean eggs. There were years I would walk a mile to visit choclatier Jacques Torres. I would purchase hand crafted chocolate wonders and place them next to the yellow, sugar-covered, industrial lab created treats. More recently, I nestled the peeps in with organic jelly beans and organic gummy bunnies and fair trade organic chocolate bunnies.

On the left are peepcakes circa 2015. Peep Gothic and Peep Camp are awesome but, sadly, not mine.

I understand that they are not a healthy treat. But sugar, corn syrup, gelatin and less than ½ of a percent of color, preservative, and carnuba wax? come on. Two little birds. Once year. By the way, yellow birds. Bunnies are not peeps. Bunnies do not peep. Pink and blue chicks? Really? No, anything other than yellow chicks is just wrong. But I digress. Two birds. Once a year.

And then we moved to Greenville. We lived in a little house just at the edge of downtown where children from the neighborhood would walk by on their way to school. Some one dropped a peep. Technically they dropped a purple, bunny shaped thing sold under the peep brand, not a yellow bird, so you know…

It was at the edge of the side walk directly in front of our house. Perky eared, smiley bunny. No ants approached the peep. Interesting. In the warm spring evenings cockroaches could be found on the sidewalks. They did not appear to eat the peep. Surprising. The parade of dogs, practically a westminster dog show of mixed breed with mixed success, who walked their owners each day did not eat the peep. Sunshine did not fade the peep. Light rain did not run the color of the peep. Perky eared, smiley bunny remained for well over a month before we swept him away with organic debris.

That was the last time I ate a peep. Mystery of culinary science: peeps are not food.

A Source of Hope for the New Year

Happy New Year. Many of us are approaching this one with some caution. Full of joy that the last one has passed, but struggling to find optimism in this one. I hope these two stories, one from December and one from yesterday, will help.

A bit more than a year ago several oak trees came down in a storm. I was heartbroken to lose those beautiful forest elders. Aidan cut great lengths and slabbed them into lumber that we hope to use in the future. We’ll create shelves and tables that will help us remember and honor what was. We cut up the rest into movable sizes, knowing it was way too much firewood for our needs. Unlike any other winter in recent history, we are home. Everyday. We need more firewood than we could have predicted. We were thankful as we cut and split the wood in November. But there was still so much. December was colder than usual and we asked a neighbor if she knew anyone in need. She did. Five members of her church showed up and loaded four trucks of wood for folks who don’t have money for heating fuel this winter. They will probably be back for more this month. We didn’t know what would be needed. We couldn’t see why the trees had sacrificed themselves. But they knew, and they did what needed to be done. For us. I hope that we do what needs to be done, for each other, and for the trees.

Yesterday a tufted titmouse flew into our window. Hard. I was sitting just a few feet away and the sound stunned me. The bird did what I can only describe as a few seconds of incredible break-dancing and then lay on its side on the porch. A dove had been sitting on the railing. She flew down to the porch a few feet from the titmouse and sat motionless. Minutes ticked on. I couldn’t look away, trying to will the one bird to fly while wondering what the other was doing there. At the ten minute mark I was sure he was a goner. But then he lifted his head a bit. The dove flew off. It took another minute for the titmouse to right it self and then a grueling (for me) twenty or so before it finally flew. I don’t know anything about bird behavior, but all of my hopes for this new year ride on the narrow shoulders of that dove. Did she offer comfort? protection? I say yes.

Happy New Year. If we listen to the true voice within us we will be okay. It is in our nature to help each other move forward.

The Farmers Almanac is back

I have been busy changing the look of our web site and migrating to another host. I don’t know how to do these things. Would some one please remind me of that the next time I try do something. However, somehow I got lucky and this work in progress is actually working while in progress.

If you were a subscriber to the old blog, alas you must re-subscribe. Sorry, I just couldn’t make that part happen. I debated about moving old stuff over here. Much like real life, I was sorting and packing and getting rid of things. I chose a half dozen or so from the archives that received lots of comment and feedback. You are an interesting lot… you like the ones with no pictures. All of the marketing gurus say that’s not normal. I knew there was a reason I liked you. I’ll post those when we return home in September, or sooner if I can’t sleep for the next two nights. And then, I will start anew, with fresh ideas and stories to share. See you soon.