Oh Pioneer!!

I want you to think of me as the new pioneer woman.

I'm writing this by candlelight on a borrowed iPad.

Gg is doing dishes with water heated on the stove and singing it's a hard knock life.

Though not as deadly, thank god, as advertised,the hurricane has left guilford, Connecticut,smack dab on the long island sound powerless.

The streets are filled with tree branches, yards and basements in the harbor are flooded with water and power lines are lying about like piles of spaghetti.

The Hai was out and about for most of the day taking incredible pictures and gg and I were cooking up a storm (so to speak)and feeding anyone who dropped by.

The lab dropped by often.

We have no idea when we will carry on with the rest of our so called vacation. We need to take two boats to get to our next bit of paradise and neither are running tomorrow.

With my luck the blue fish will be and I'll find myself on a fishing trip.

With your luck I'll figure out how to use the caps on this contraption and send out a more mannered report soon.

Think we'll get a movie out of this?

Countdown ......To Eternity

We arrived in Connecticut with the bare essentials:12 gallons of water and clean clothes. No candles were allowed. The Hai " hates" candles??? He has 3 of those " little things"??? ( I have just found out the little things are flashlights, solar powered, we don't need any " stupid batteries").

The Hai threw us in a car and we rushed out to get Hurricane necessities: 3 ga-huge lobsters, bottles of wine, butter lettuce, a baguette and for me, the new Elle Decor.

A half pound of melted garlic butter later we made survival plans.

These include a feast with the neighbors where we will grill everything that currently resides in both freezers.

I have just awoken and GG, The Hai and the Lab are gone.  I presume they are securing the boats and will return home with lattes and pastries. I believe cleaning out the gutters is on the list, and I'm thinking all these plants on the deck need to come indoors before they are flung indoors.

You will have to pardon my constant posting, but as the wind rises so does my anxiety level.

 The 5 year old in me wants to jump in the car and drive home to the imaginary safely of Virginia.  But the blogger in me insists we stay keeping the Hai company and reporting on the storm.

 The only situation I can control is the one on my keyboard.


Buckle up your seatbelts.  It's going to be a bumpy ride.

 

A Slight Chance Of Rain

What's a girl to do?

Having left town moments before an earthquake hit, we now find ourselves caught between the devil, the deep blue sea and an impending hurricane.

Today at the beach the waves were high, the swimmers were brave (I was not among them) and the air was whipping our hats off our heads and our dresses above them.

With winds of up to 120 miles an hour expected here this weekend, we will flee to Connecticut tomorrow and wait out the storm before we board 2 boats and travel to Fire Island, New York.  If there still is a Fire Island left after Sunday.


GG and I have given serious thought as to what you all would advise us to do in these times of stress and then it came to us, as if in a dream:  Eat ice cream you would tell us. Jane, have a scoop of fresh peach ice cream.  And GG, how about a bowl fashioned out of a freshly made waffle, filled with peanut butter cup and oreo ice cream with hot fudge and peanut butter sauce.

There is talk New York City may be evacuated.  Our host and hostess will begin safety measures tomorrow, filling the bathtubs with water, buying a battery operated radio, laying in food and candles. 


May all of you on the East Coast stay safe and out of harms way. 


And for God's sake, have some ice cream.

Let's Hear It For The Food

We hit the road early Sunday morning traveling against traffic.  Butterfly traffic, as they migrated south we headed north on 95. D.C. to Maryland, thru Delaware, the long journey on the New Jersey turnpike and then sitting in masses of traffic in New York waiting to go over the George Washington bridge. 

( First scent of home)

 

Finally Connecticut, home state of the Lab (and GG).

Thus began the eating. Freshly smoked salmon and creamy cheeses, local corn and ginornomous T-bone steaks on the grill.  An early morning stop for lattes and a bag brimming with pastries then onto The Hai's boat  for a ride around the Long Island Sound. We stopped for a lunch of lobster and scallop rolls, plates piled high with thin crispy onion rings and/or french fries and tangy coleslaw.

  While all this is delicious, remember: we are actually heading to beaches where we will be required to put on bathing suits. This will not be pretty. I am eating a piece (or two) of toasted cranberry and pecan bread as I write.

  The word from Virginia is that our house is still standing after the earthquake and our recently repaired ceiling is still that, repaired.  The cat was shaken not stirred.  And our cabinets remain bright white.  (GG thanks all of you for keeping me on the light and narrow road:)

Light and narrow as regards the paint color certainly not my waistline.

Decorating Advice Si Vous Plait

Before I put my kitchen back together, I have a question to ask all of you.
 
The ceiling has just been plastered (Ode To Joy playing in the background here) and the walls have been given a fresh coat of  creamy white. The louvered doors, that conceal the washer and dryer and the boiler respectively, along with the trim, are a glossy white.

As of 5:00pm today everything except the cabinets looks shiny and happy. This includes me.  The low grade depression that comes from living and cooking under a ruined ceiling has lifted.

The cabinets have always been a semi gloss white. Should we change it up?  Dare we paint the cabinets black?  The kitchen is on the west side of the house.  It has 2 windows, a limestone back splash and a creamy tile floor, the back splash and the floors create a yellow glow, hence the creamy white paint.

It's a cottage style kitchen. Until the great ceiling collapse of 2011 black and white box pleated valances hung trimly over the windows.  They might again if I can bring myself to drag out the dreaded iron.

Only we would have a mini construction

project going on a few days before vacation.

Actually that's not true, anyone of you would do it too:)

So tell me true.  What dare we do?

Black, white or blue?

Keeping It Simple

Not ten minutes after I hit publish on my last post another neighbor showed up at the door. Was word  out on the block I was giving thanks?

He was carrying a large bagful of cherry tomatoes from his CSA box. 

This answered the eternal question " What's for dinner".

Grabbing a bowl I finely chopped 3 cloves of GG's garlic, sliced about a cup of garden basil, halved many tomatoes, diced up several ounces of mozzarella cheese, added 1/2 cup of olive oil, ground black pepper and salt, I gave it all a stir, covered the bowl and let it sit and percolate for about 2 hours.

Then I cooked a pound of pasta, I used penne but any would do.  After tossing the warm pasta with the room temperature sauce and picking out a few cubes of melty mozzarella, I grated a shower of fresh Parmesan cheese over all and served.

And gave another thank you to the block.  Dinner in the hood, from the hood.  Nothing could be finer.

Not Too Hip For This Strip

Four hours weeding gives you a lot of time to think ( and curse). And  to swat mosquitoes and find a vole under the dying Miss Kim lilac.  But I digress.

I was mostly thinking about our neighbors Ron and Donna.  They lived on the street long before we all came in the 90's.  Donna is in a wheel chair and Ron works a full time job and then comes home and takes care of Donna.  And of all of us.  While the rest of us plant our heirloom tomatoes and our striped eggplant, only to have them all end up with blossom stem rot, Ron plants his usual crops of tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and watermelon.  Then he picks big bags full and delivers door to door.  Yesterday I gushingly asked him for the name of the fabulous tangerine tomato we have been dining on all week.  They both looked at me like I was mad and said it's low acid.  But what's it's name I asked again, low acid they told me pityingly Oh. Guess I'll never fine out the name of the fat yellow cucumber that tastes like it's already been pickled. 

(This may be our only yellow squash, let's hear it for the girls)

And they love the Lab.  She popped out her hip on Friday and has done a lot of resting and a very little 3 legged hopping since then.  Donna came over yesterday with a treat and some encouraging words for Nika.  Today she had a box of Frosty Treats and a card for her.

I don't know if they have a computer, but they have a police scanner.  Donna is our own neighborhood watch.  We don't discuss politics and I have never heard the word organic pass their lips.They are not one bit cool.  They are something better than cool, they are kind.

And we are very lucky to have them as friends and neighbors.
.