Fat rascals

My dad has periodically reminisced with fondness over the fat rascals we ate at Betty's in York during our first family trip to Great Britain 12 years ago. Spurred on by my recent cravings for British food (thanks to My Love Affair With England), I decided to try to recreate them. I found a decent-looking recipe online, in metric! So my measurements were rather hazy ("150g flour = between 1 1/3 cup and 1 1/2 cup flour, I think!"). With some experimentation I could probably get the recipe to be a little more friendly to American cooks.

I also wasn't exactly sure what glacé cherries were; I figured if our grocery store carried them, they would be labeled as such. Wrong. After I got home from the store, I looked it up online and found that they are essentially candied cherries. So, I made do and used dried cherries -- though they are not as aesthetically appealing, they're probably better for you.

I made some decadent whipped cream to eat with the fat rascals, and guess what? They're delicious! (My friend Susan suggests that they are so named because if you eat too many, you'll become a fat rascal.)

A humorous anecdote

I'm "keeping house" for Dad for two days while Mom is in Kansas. Today I cooked him some pancakes and scrambled eggs for lunch. I set out all sorts of tempting syrups and toppings for the pancakes, including some homemade corncob syrup, which I later noticed had some mold growing inside. Here's an exchange from our tête-à-tête lunch:

SELF: [horrified, having just watched Dad pour said corncob syrup on his pancake] Dad, that syrup was moldy!
DAD: Well, it tastes all right and I kind of poured it out the non-moldy side.

:)

Wild roses

These beauties are near our back fence. However, they do not compare to the lovely rambling red roses our neighbor Velda has growing all over her white picket fence and front doorstep. It's quite a sight!

Excerpt from my current reading

"Perhaps no one is as vulnerable to the lure of England's many-layered past as a young American reader who has grown up under the wide empty skies of the Midwest. To me, the Midwest was almost featureless, compared, for instance, with New England, home of the House of the Seven Gables, or to the myth-ridden Far West. Nothing in Ames [Iowa] seemed historic or even very old. If a building did age, it was eventually renovated beyond recognition or else torn down. If I had known where to stand and how to listen, somewhere in Ames I might have been able to catch an echo from the past of the heavy rumble of wagon wheels on a prairie schooner heading west. But history seemed to have vanished from Iowa. In England, it was still alive."

--My Love Affair With England by Susan Allen Toth, published 1992

New skirt

I whipped up this summer skirt from Simplicity 3841 using a floral fabric from Robert Kaufman's Piccadilly line. I forced myself to get something bright and cheerful that I would normally admire in the fabric store, but not buy. I'm so glad I did, because I love the colorful roses!

Teacup dishtowel

I gave these items to my mom on Mother's Day. The embroidery was inspired by an image on Pattern Bee, though I just drew the pattern myself. My embroidery isn't quite perfect, but I'm just telling myself that it adds to the charm. :)

Prydain

Last week, my brother passed along the news that Lloyd Alexander has died. He wrote my favorite childhood series, The Chronicles of Prydain. The five books in the series are special to our family -- my parents first read them together when they were dating. My mom even made an embroidered banner of Hen-Wen for my dad, like Eilonwy did for Taran in The High King.

Mom started reading me the books when I was 11, and I immediately loved them. She even had to hide them from me so I wouldn't read ahead without her! I found most of her hiding places, though, and would take the books into the bathroom so I could read in peace for a few moments, before she'd get suspicious.

The last time I read through the series was about three years ago, when I read them aloud to a (then) 13-year-old friend of ours. He enjoyed them as much as I did, so I was happy to be able to pass along the pleasure that the books have given me. I'm thinking now might be a good time for another re-read.

Emily graduates

Today my good friend Emily graduated with a Bachelor's of Music from the college down the street from our house. She lived with us for two and a half years while she attended classes, so I'd gotten quite used to having a "sister" around!

For the weekend festivities, her mother made her a gown using Sense & Sensibility's 1914 afternoon dress pattern.


After the ceremony, we had a delicious lunch of roast beef, herb-roasted potatoes, cooked asparagus, and cranberry and pear green salad. I made a milk chocolate cake for dessert, which I decorated with frosting polka-dots and three fresh roses.

Dress sketch

My Grandma Leora gave me this sketch that she found in an old letter (I didn't see the letter, so I don't know anything about where it came from or why it was drawn). Judging by the style, I'd say it's from the early to mid-1930s. The clothes at this time were so elegant because of the columnar lines. No wonder it's my favorite era!

Mother's Day

Mahler

Last night my dad took me to the Lincoln Symphony Orchestra's performance of Mahler's second symphony ("Resurrection"). It was splendid! Attending a live performance really enhances the music, not only because of the better sound quality but because of all the motion and liveliness of the orchestra. You couldn't have asked for a more animated and entertaining conductor, either. The soprano, seated nearby, was obviously concerned she was going to get whacked in the head with his baton!

A favorite passage

"'Oh,' Kay said, as he looked, 'there's someone wonderful coming.'

At first he thought that the figure was one of those giant red deer, long since extinct: it bore enormous antlers. Then he saw that it was a great man, antlered at the brow, dressed in deerskin and moving with the silent slow grace of a stag; and, although he was so like a stag, he was hung about with little silver chains and bells.

Kay knew at once that this was Herne the Hunter, of whom he had often heard. 'Ha, Kay,' Herne the Hunter said, 'are you coming into my wild wood?'

'Yes, if you please, sir,' Kay said. Herne stretched out his hand. Kay took it and at once he was glad that he had taken it, for there he was in the forest between the two hawthorn trees, with the petals of the may-blossom falling on him. All the may-blossoms that fell were talking to him, and he was aware of what all the creatures of the forest were saying to each other: what the birds were singing, and what it was that the flowers and trees were thinking. And he realised that the forest went on and on for ever, and all of it was full of life beyond anything that he had ever imagined: for in the trees, in each leaf, and on every twig, and in every inch of soil there were ants, grubs, worms; little, tiny, moving things, incredibly small yet all thrilling with life.

'Oh dear,' Kay said, 'I shall never know a hundredth part of all the things there are to know.'"

--The Box of Delights by John Masefield, published 1935

McCall's 9698

I bought this pattern off eBay last week, mostly because I love the way the pleats go all the way up the waist! I'm inspired to make two versions of this dress; one sleeveless with a scoopneck, and one with a bateau neckline. (Yes, I do seem to alter just about every single pattern I make.)

Anyway, what I love most of all is that the woman on the left has POODLES all over her dress!

Nebraska's Best-Kept Secrets, Part II

Another flower farm -- this one off of I-80, near Ogallala. The Petersons have planted hundreds of varieties of lilacs and will allow you to come and amble among the rows when the lilacs are in bloom (May). There are all shades of colors from deep purple to pure white, some scented and some not, and differently-shaped blossoms, too. Actually, the sheer amount of lilacs is almost overwhelming! If you're travelling along I-80 around this time of year, arrange to stop by and enjoy the lilacs.

The caterpillar

I find among the poems of Schiller
No mention of the caterpillar,
Nor can I find one anywhere
In Petrarch or in Baudelaire,
So here I sit in extra session
To give my personal impression.
The caterpillar, as it's called,
Is often hairy, seldom bald;
It looks as if it never shaves;
When as it walks, it walks in waves;
And from the cradle to the chrysalis
It's utterly speechless, songless, whistleless.

--from The Private Dining Room by Ogden Nash, published 1953

Lily of the valley

Sidewalk chalk

...plus French vocabulary. (My dad is teaching me snippets of French here and there.)

Rond de jambe en l'air

This year I've taken up ballet again at a local dance studio. Juilliard it ain't, but I've been enjoying the weekly stretches and exercise. Ballet is one of the most difficult dance forms to excel at, because you are constantly using every muscle and you must be aware of every part of your body, all at once. But when you are dancing along with beautiful music, the feeling is wonderful!

I'm planning on looking into taking a beginning pointe class over the summer or next autumn, if I can. Dancing on pointe was always a girlhood dream of mine. I didn't stick with ballet long enough to get that advanced before, but why not try it now? Better late than never!