hey jud

Maybe my ingredients are improving, maybe I'm getting a better sense of what will go together, and maybe the recipes to be found are just much better than they used to be. The past two days I've had particularly successful, Google cooking meals. Both times the recipe was the top result and both times it was from a food blog I had never read before.

My first search, for pork loin red cabbage, brought me a very tasty horse radish crusted pork tenderloin on a bed of red cabbage from the Broadsheet blog. The bonus by good fortune, was that I already had the crucial other ingredients; horseradish just bought for something else and goat cheese which I do pretty much keep on hand. Alas, that blog is no longer active but the archives are still there.

The next night I googled mushrooms farro potatoes, and discovered the Purple Foodie blog, after which we sat down to a lovely bowl of farro, potato and mushroom stew. Enticing pictures on the right side of the home page linked to other, particularly favorite recipes, so soon I'll be baking Hasselback Potatoes, the most scrumptious looking crispy baked potatoes topped with pesto, and saying South Beach be damned.

I do love my cookbooks where I discover new things to try and often return to old favorites, but when you've got that certain combination of stuff in the fridge needing to be used up, there's really nothing so quick and easy as Google cooking.

Somehow I'd forgotten just how much energy two young kids can have, but our NYC weekend brought it all back - the nonstop energy plus the copycat syndrome. Whatever Ollie did, Minna did the same. That may bode well for her on skis this winter because she'll certainly be out there trying. We got to play with the kids a lot but also walked around on our own a bit. That's when we stopped to listen and watch some guys on Bleecker Street singing doo wop like it was still the 50's. When I spotted the rising sun making the buildings across the river gleam like gold, I couldn't resist exposing myself to get a quick photo. I just hope pretty much everyone else at the Standard was still asleep.

This time last year we were at the top of Mt. Philo looking at the view across Lake Champlain, trying to reconcile a life of new possibilities with an unexpectedly sudden ending. Just two months after her move to an independent living apartment in Vermont, my Mom passed away on Veterans' Day.

I spent time last night and again this morning, playing the piano and letting the music both remind me of her, and soothe me. Some songs made me feel like I was practicing on the old spinet on Castle Street and she was just in the kitchen, doing dishes and calling out occasional words of encouragement. Other songs I knew were particular old favorites of hers and I wished I had played them for her in recent years. She knew those years of lessons had inspired my constant playing while I lived at home, but did she know how it continues even now?

Among the many songs I play, the one that brings Mom closest is 'Mother's Evening Prayer', a hymn by Mary Baker Eddy. I learned it in Sunday School and always loved it, but when it was sung at my Grandma Engel's funeral, it took on deeper associations of a mother's presence, peace and joy, and constant, comforting love. On one of her last days in the hospital, when she had stopped talking or opening her eyes, I read the words of that hymn to her. As I finished the last line, 'And mother finds her home and heavenly rest', she opened her eyes for just a minute, and smiled. She knew her mother's work was done.

It was just a year ago, this past summer, when we went together to empty out Dad's safe deposit box and to make me a joint signer on his credit union account. For some time, we'd been trying to get him to close out the account, or at least start accessing it online, but he paid no attention to our advice. What seemed like such a bother to us, the drive down to the North End taking his baffling combination of city streets since he wouldn't drive on the highway and didn't think anyone else would want to either, was no bother at all for him. On arrival, he would insist on going inside, not struggling too much with his walker, but enough to get a little special service, and then upping the ante by announcing how he was one of their very first customers when the phone company credit union was founded. How proud he was of his years at the telephone company, and I think visiting the credit union brought him back to those days of working and earning and supporting a family.

When I arrived by myself to close the account, his presence was so strong, I held the door open an extra moment for him to pass through with me. Inside I announced to the receptionist that I was there to close the account of one of their very first customers. Since I'd called earlier in the morning, the closing check was waiting for me and the whole process only took a few minutes. But I could sense Dad sitting there next to me, so I didn't turn my head to look at the empty chair. I kept the moment going, and lingered a bit chatting with the bank officer just as he would have done. Then I left quickly, and outside in the car, cried harder than anytime since he died.

My plan was to drive back through downtown, along Main Street, and stop in the South End for lunch before heading back home. But in a couple of blocks my plan changed. I turned onto Fort Street and pulled into an empty parking space in front of the Student Prince restaurant. That made me chuckle because more than once when I brought Mom and Dad there, I had been lucky enough to get that exact parking spot right in front of the door. If the spot hadn't been open, I might have just driven by, but I filled the meter with coins and went inside.

Again he was there with me. He was telling the same story he told every time we came, all about how he and his telephone company cronies would meet there for long lunches back in the day. He would have had his favorite, the liver and onions special, but I passed on it, knowing I wouldn't enjoy it equally. Instead I had a small cucumber and vinegar salad, followed by a bowl of goulash soup. A dark beer would have been perfect for toasting him, but with more driving ahead, I made do with a dark coke. I took my time at lunch, thinking back over all the years with Dad, pleased that a simple errand offered this unexpected way to say goodbye.

One of my most favorites from this set of photos taken over the past two weekends - first in Orange for my Mom and Dad's Memorial Service and then in Vermont for Ollie's birthday and the 4th of July.

We got back from our Chicago trip around noon Sunday, unpacked quickly, and got in the car to drive to Orange in time for dinner. The change in weather was dramatic, from a Chicago morning temp of 49 degrees early in the week to high 80's in Orange. The kids got to cool off in their little pool, but I settled for a cool beer instead. Then there was some early detail training to the benefit of both cars, and the garden got a weeding to make GG Pa proud. A few pix document the days.

However you look at it, it would have been nice to have posted on March 25, 2011, exactly ten years from a day when I was singing April in Paris, and posting my very first blog entry. And it would have been equally nice last May or June, when Minna was around eight or nine months, to have posted this photo of Meg at the same age, noting how much Minna looked, and still looks, like Meg as a toddler.

But you know what? The memories of both events are just as strong, so in spite of missing that perfect timing, tonight I'm celebrating a blog that's lasted more than ten years, and a terrific granddaughter who not only looks, but often acts, much like her terrific mother. I'll open my usual bottle of red wine in anticipation of another return visit to Paris, and I'll think back to sunny days on our back porch in Buffalo, where I never imagined the changes and joys the little girl sitting there would bring.

We spent a lovely long weekend at the house with Meg, Jason, Ollie and Minna. Much was accomplished as you'll see in these photos.

I saw this on stellar, Jason's aggregator of friends favorite links, and it's just superb. Really, it takes your breath away. By sakura4250 on youtube.

From riding a horse-drawn wagon into the woods to cut down our own Christmas tree, to getting decorations put up just right, to little helpers making Christmas cookies, and more, it's all here in a huge photo set that's just a small part of our well-documented holiday. Though there was great joy in being together, fueled especially by Ollie and Minna, at the same time it was bittersweet to celebrate for the first time without Mom. How she would have laughed to see Minna working so hard to roll out the Christmas cookie dough and how she would have enjoyed reading Ollie's gift books with him. And would she have been as surprised as I was to see Dad sitting so comfortably in his favorite red chair at Marcia's house, idly petting the cat as he drifted off to sleep?