Beef and a sturdy red wine

For close to 30 years I have cooked under the tutelage of books by Marcella Hazan. If, as she urges, you do exactly as she directs, you are assured of excellent results. I don't always have access to the wines she wants in her recipes--like I can afford to cook with a Barbera or Barolo? I can't even afford to drink it. While she would not approve, I'm certain, I substitute much lower end South American wines and occasionally an Australian. These wines, in the price range I can afford, often don't have the depth and richness of their Italian cousins, but they're pretty damn good even so.

Today I'm in quest of a good beef stew and Marcella's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking has the simplest and tastiest of anything I've made. Mine will be made with (gasp!) the heel of an Australian wine, but with the best beef I can buy at the butcher's (never the supermarket). It will be a stove top stew, as I still don't have a working oven. 

I do have a recurring but as yet unfulfilled dream of getting under the stove, via the drawer at the bottom, and seeing if I can remove the element prior to replacing it with a new one. It is one of those jobs that require contortions that make my 61 year old bones rebel at the very thought, never mind the reality. But I rebel even more at the idea of forking out a hundred and fifty bucks to find out that this still won't get the oven working. In truth I need a new stove. This very pricey unit, a mere 7 years old, now has a wipe off surface finish--a soft cloth removes the enamel (enamel I always believe adhered to metal, but now I learn what powder coat really means--that wipes off). 

A stove/oven rant could easily take up the rest of the day. I've been baking and cooking in a 'toaster' oven for 18 plus months. And yes, that's too much fun.

So, back to the beef stew in red wine and happier thoughts....all I need is 2 lbs of flank steak stew meat, a 'sturdy' red wine, onions, carrots, celery, peas and olive oil. Yum.

A white white world

First snow storm of the season arrived overnight and what a dump it was. Nothing is moving on the street, don't even think the plows have been through yet, or if they have it hasn't made a significant difference to the state of the road. I won't be getting out of the driveway any time soon either. There's a foot of snow blown up against the kitchen door which I opened (and got a face full of blowing snow) in an effort to see if I could make it to the ash can to dump a load of warm ashes from the wood stove. Nope, there needs to be shovelling to get to the ash can. Snow shovelling will ensue later in the day because I'll need to dump those ashes if I want to keep a fire going over the next few days. 

While it is very white, windy and surprisingly cold this morning I'm toasty beside the wood stove and won't be moving very far from it for the next five months or so. 

Ah, I hear a snow plow; there he is filling up the driveways as he passes and clears the street. How nice is that? Once I had a look, I'm not sure 'nice' even in a snarky way, quite covers the four foot high bank the plow deposited at the bottom of my driveway.

I can't actually shovel to any degree anymore, maybe make a little path to the ash can or remove an inch of snow from the back porch so I don't track it in when I fetch firewood. I'm hoping Doug my neighbour is still willing to do the big stuff, haven't talked to him in a while so I don't know if he's up for that this winter. Last winter he wasn't working but I think he's now back at work.

And there's no hope today of the lovely dinner I was invited to and so looking forward to at Trattoria della Nonna in Lunenburg. The weather's too icky and the roads will be a miserable slidey mess. Sadly it ain't worth the risk or aggravation. And neither Lisa or I have winter tires.

Meanwhile I'm knitting away on the arm warmers and little fingerless mitts that are really cute in left over Noro from the felted bag project of last summer. You know, my trombone bag. It has a role in my world as a stash bag, but would easily be useful as a trombone cosy. The proportions are all out of whack. Colour's nice though... Maybe I should make a hat from the Noro too?

Fibery decor

Today I propose to own up to the fact that all things fibre is my decorating standard. The sofa is completely overwhelmed with projects, there are baskets of yarn everywhere in my sitting room (the room with the wood stove). Slightly further afield, in the living room the spinning wheels, a drum carder, swift, ball winder, skein winder and rocking chair jostle for position with baskets of fleece or prepared fibre and more baskets of yarn. 

There's no way this decor could be considered tidy in my current application of it. I do live in hope of organizing the stash(es) one of these days, or perhaps simply creating space to move in each room. Every available surface in the living room holds fibre in some form: batts, roving, skeins, balls and bobbins. I'm a busy, and clearly very disorganized little worker bee. Oh, and do spider web swags count as fibery decor? And no, there will NOT be pictures!  

The kitchen is not immune from this decor style either. There's a bag of fresh fleece (fresh from the sheep!) by the door and a bucket of draining washed fleece by the sink. Gotta keep the supply coming, eh what?

Now if only I could figure out how to spin or knit in my sleep.

There's currently almost a sense of urgency to my efforts with fibre. I feel I've lost so much time. Time I've spent doing other things like making a living, and then not working on fibre projects. Then again, cruising to 62 and being a Capricorn messes with my sense of time anyway. Could be we need a bit of balance. And how bloody likely is that??? 

'Tis the season...

For 'startitis'. Oh but I have it baaaadddd! What else is a person to do with a lot of time attached to the sofa enduring a virus that simply will not let go? Come up with too many exciting projects, that's what. 

So far we have another version of the Eye of Partridge Shawl because the one I made last summer, and thought very little of at the time, has proven to be such a treasure in the wearing that I want/need to make another in a fun colour: purples, blues & lavenders. There's the Orkney Pi from a previous post.  There are three new pairs of socks, one pair completed. The arm warmers are making good progress, as is the Rhinebeck Sweater. A sweet little neck warmer in merino cashmere was done early in the week. The top down roll neck sweater in cochineal dyed merino has the neck portion done and miscellaneous other still orphaned socks get picked up and put down as I madly try to do a little of everything. It helps me feel that I just might live through this stupid endless virus. 

And just in case you are shaking your head at my knitting folly, please note that the Farmer's Almanac is calling for a 'numbingly cold' winter. I'm simply making sure that I have something to warm every single part of my person for the duration, with multiple layers should that prove necessary.

What I really want to be doing though is preparing content for my website project, but sadly there's nothing I can do to clear my head of virus & snot to make that possible at the moment.

I did spin on my Quebec wheel (aka Ida) for about 20 minutes a few days ago, but that was all I could manage for upright in several days. The new bobbins my friend Soren turned out on his lathe work wonderfully well and the wheel 'goes like stink'. Once we make friends a bit more, Ida and I, she'll be the dedicated sock yarn wheel because of her incredible speed. I'm still learning how to make my twist consistent, I think we need a good long draw technique--but she's a lovely old lady and we'll be fine once we spend more quality time together.  

Pictures of all of the above to be posted soon....

9 Gift Sock Scenarios

I recently forwarded a pair of hand knit socks to a friend, and for some as yet unknown reason I have not heard anything about how these have been received, except that the post office at least has done its part.  This leaves me with no reasonable option but to list the scenarios which have been running through my mind, namely:

1. Socks received, hated them on sight.

2. Socks received but feet have been abducted by aliens and socks don't fit the stumps.

3. Feet so precious now, married as they are, that hand knit socks from the past too embarrassing to own.

4. Socks have been wickedly 'short sheeted' so recipient can't get them on.

5. Sock recipient in a daze from recent pie eating event, can no longer find feet, so socks now irrelevant.

6. Socks immediately re-gifted (to the postman?) and original recipient too ashamed to own up to this.

7. Advancing age has made sock recipient forget that the postman brought a package, or where it was placed; possibly also forgot what socks are for?

8. Wearing socks on hands, so don't have to acknowledge socks, but will get around to saying something about the wonky mitts one of these days, working up to it.

9. Oh, those were socks? From you? Thought it was junk mail so put it in the blue box.  All gone now.