My Grammy's Sunbeam Mixmaster

My Grammy passed away recently. I am extremely thankful that I was able to spend a few weeks with her over the past year at different times. She was such a wonderful woman, and I don't know how life will be without her charm and love.

My uncle gave me her old Mixmaster after the funeral. Of course, it would have been the only material item that I would have liked to take home with me, had I thought of it. He also gave me one of her old straw sun hats and each of the granddaughters took some of her perfume to remember her by. She was a Chanel No. 5 girl forever.

I miss her so.
Maybe I'll dig out her famous brownie recipe and get Niece over here for a photo-op with the old Sunbeam.

Moving is hell on earth, they say.

Every time I think I can't do another thing, I think to myself, "Don't worry, you won't ever have to do this again if you don't want to!" It gives me the strength to go on for another half hour or so. This move is dragging on all month long. I don't know why. Probably because I refuse to take any vacation time for it. Plus I'm not a skilled packer because I hate to organize things but I know I have to, so I procrastinate since that's what I do best. I paid rent on my apt for November so I've put myself in this position. But now I am afraid to look at my bank account for fear that I won't have enough to rent a truck for my second-hand furniture. But I ought to start from the beginning instead of the end.

I found out that the roof needs fixed, the wiring needs updated before I can even put a dryer in or use a microwave and coffee maker at the same time, the carpet had a big hole in it and the lawn needed mowed but I don't know how to turn on a lawn mower!

Last week, I sensed anxiety lurking beneath my typically cocksure exterior when I found myself calling X whining, "Are you going to get out here and help me or not." Thankfully, I recovered from that fit of delusion within 24 hours. On my day off, I arrived at the house early. All by myself, just me. I had made an impulse purchase of some laminate wood flooring because I **thought** it was cheap. And now I had no idea how I'd get the carpet out and the flooring in. I felt lost. I fumbled around with the carpet where there was a big hole, and found that it came up easily. I got a hammer and a flat head screwdriver out of my little tool box and found that, while difficult, these items made it possible to rip out the trim and the pieces of wood nailed to the concrete that have little nails sticking up to somehow hold the carpet in place. I suffered some setbacks. I could not get some of it up and wanted to give up. I rifled around the workshop for something else to use. I cursed the former owner's family, who moved all of her things and took all of the tools out of the workshop. Yeah, I wanted to use Elizabeth's late husband Jack's tools, I'll admit it. But I was also pissed off that they would remove those tools from a place they'd been for 60 years. Jack had painted each tool turquoise and outlined a spot on the wall for each, so anyone would know where to return it. Now there are just outlines.

But I still rifled around. Then something caught my eye. An oddly shaped tool was hanging off one of the workbenches. Obviously they missed one. It was turquoise, after all. I pulled it out and thought, "hey this would work!" It looked like an iron snake, about 1 ft long. In minutes I had all the nasty wood strips with nails in them up and in a box, ready for the alley. I cut the carpet and padding up, rolled it all up neatly into small bundles and tied them with string. Then I called my brother and told him I needed him to help me with something.

He was worried. He knew what I wanted. I wanted him to get over there and take the carpet out for me. But when he got there, he was surprised to find that I had already done it! He helped carry the junk to the alley. Next day, I knew I had to paint at least the living room and dining room because I don't like dusty pink in EVERY room! I got my supplies and even bought a paint sprayer that ultimately didn't do much but waste my time and expensive paint.
And splatter the ceiling. By 2 pm the next day, the painting was complete. Good thing, because I had to be back working by around 2 a.m. The day after that, I checked my personal cell phone on my way home from work. Two missed calls from Brother. I called him back. "Where you at?" he questioned.

"On my way home."
"Which home?"
"A. P. T."
"Well come over to your new house. I want you to see something."
"What, what's the matter."
"Nothing, just come over."
"What are you doing over there?"
"Just get over here."

Lo and behold, Brother had spent all day laying my flooring. It looked incredible. And it helped make the paint color look not so much like a circa 1987 Golden Girls episode. I was SO grateful.

Finally, I wanted to thank Jack for having that tool in the first place and then hiding it so the evil family members couldn't steal it from us! I was grateful to Elizabeth for taking such meticulous care of the house for all those years. I was grateful to Brother for being such a good, kind guy. How'd he ever finally grow up to be this wonderful man? Finally, I was grateful to X for being SUCH A jerk on the phone that I decided I'd rather sleep on a floor with no electricity at ALL then to seriously consider begging him for his unskilled, grudging assistance.

Because you know what? I don't need him! All I need is to accept that I can take care of it myself.
I'm going to get a part time job at Home Depot if they give discounts. I have LOTS of stuff to do.

Yummy Pumpkin Dip

In the process of moving, I found a recipe I must have copied from somewhere. Sounds like something to try, perhaps.

Yummy Pumpkin Dip

2 8-oz pkgs cream cheese, softened
1 lg can pumpkin
2 c. powdered sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp ginger

Whip together and serve in hollowed out small pumpkin. Serve on a plate covered with black licorice "worms" or any halloweenish candy such as candy corn. On the side, place ginger snaps for dipping....

Cranberry Pumpkin Upside Down cake with Niece

Niece and I made the most wonderful cake. It was SO easy. Niece wanted to stay at my apt all day, and our habits are simple: we either go to a museum or make something yummy. I had to make something anyway for a potluck the following day, so it worked out perfectly. She wore a brand new apron that I WAS going to give her for Christmas. I found the recipe in a friend's current Sunset magazine (Nov 07)

Ingredients

1/4 cup butter, + more for pans
1/2 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1 tablespoon dark or light rum (used dark)
1 1/3 cups cranberries , thawed or fresh (used fresh)
2/3 cup toasted coarsely chopped, toasted walnuts
2 large eggs
1 cup canned pumpkin
1/3 cup vegetable oil (used safflower, all I had)
1 cup granulated sugar
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
Whipped cream (eh, used cool whip because it was for a potluck)

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Butter a 9-in. square pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.

2. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt butter. Whisk in brown sugar until blended. Remove from heat and whisk in rum. Pour mixture into prepared pan, evenly covering the bottom.

3. In a small bowl, combine cranberries and walnuts; arrange evenly over brown sugar mixture.

4. In a large bowl with a mixer on medium speed, beat eggs, pumpkin, oil, and granulated sugar until smooth. In another bowl, stir together flour, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt. Stir flour mixture into pumpkin mixture. Spread batter evenly over cranberries and walnuts.

5. Bake until a skewer inserted in the center of cake comes out clean, 35 to 45 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool 10 minutes in pan. Run a thin-bladed knife between cake and sides of pan, then invert cake onto a serving platter. Remove pan and parchment, and let cool at least 20 minutes. Serve slightly warm or cool, with whipped cream.

Holiday Dos and Don'ts

From our good friends who gave us the Woman's Home Companion and its wonderful "Cook Book."

In light of my tentative plans to bully every relation into coming to my (soon - to - be - I - hope) new home for Thanksgiving, I've been flipping through old magazines and cookbooks like a crazed fiend.

But of course, the plain sensibility of these tips in the small excerpt below have brought me back to reality. Somewhat.

Don't do more than your household is equipped to do with ease and distinction. The secret of good service is not to attempt too much.

Don't have more guests than you can take care of easily. People remember a restful well-served little dinner. No one has a good time at a crowded badly managed party.

Don't attempt dishes beyond your culinary skill. Try the fancy ones on your family before springing them on your friends.

Don't try to be grand. Everyone sees through it and nothing is so forlorn as a pretentious party. The most distinguished entertaining is simple, done with ease and naturalness.

Don't leave everything until the last minute. A tired flustered hostess is no good to herself or friends.

Do let the menu, service, decorations, etc., have the stamp of your personality. The talked-of party is the one reflecting the taste and individuality of the hostess. Mere correctness and routine are dull.

Do keep your table decorations low and the candles high. Your guests might like to see one another; mounds of flowers never furthered good table talk.

My new kitchen

I never knew how much time and money getting a freaking mortgage costs, but will it ever be worth it!

There have been few opportunities like this in my life, and I am ever so grateful that someone is willing to loan me money to buy a house that someone is willing to sell to me for the amount I can pay. It's worth much more. And I think it's the best house in the whole world.

Yes, that's a pink stove. I move in two weeks!

Belated vacation thoughts

I spent a week up North taking care of my elderly grandmother.
Couple cute things Grammy says:
"Swell"
"I don't give a rat's nose..."
"MH, would you be kind enough to..."

I mentioned that I enjoyed hearing some of those and she commented that my grandpa (who died while my mother was still a child) used to say, "I'll be go to hell" about everything, even when they were in public. She claims that it embarrassed her for years but talking about it to me produced a giggle. She told me again the famous War Story. He was on Iwo Jima. It's pretty much the exact story of Flags of our Fathers, except for a few small details. He wasn't one of the guys raising the flag, but he did endure some terrible things. What I love is how this has been talked about in our family for years, and we thought it was OUR story. I guess it wasn't!

Although I can't stand the sight or smell of any meat, I knew that Grammy would not be happy without her regular meat-centered meals.

For breakfast, I usually made for her eggs and bacon or sausage. Good thing she likes her bacon crispy. I tried making a dish fondly referred to as potato-egg-cheese-stuff (pictured before I threw everything in a skillet). She loves that. It's a mixture of omelette ingredients plus whatever meat and cheese is sitting around.

One morning we had french toast. Another morning, we made cinnamon rolls and Grammy "made" a heavenly cream cheese frosting for them. I measured and mixed, but she told me exactly what she wanted done! She used to make cinnamon toast for my brother and I when we would spend the night at her house.

For dinner, I was on my own in deciding what to make. She naps during the day, so I couldn't very well wake her up to ask what she'd prefer to eat in a couple hours.

I dug out a few of her old cookbooks and used the local fundraiser ones. I found recipes that she had submitted and used them! I made a salmon loaf, fried chicken and beef stroganoff. Chicken salad (pictured) for lunch once. I found it curious that she didn't have there any of her Irish recipes. She said, "Now why would I give my best recipes to people I don't even know?"

We drank coffee all day long, but went without the whiskey, thankfully. Although, I did see a stockpile of Irish and Scotch whiskey in one of the pantries. I wondered why she didn't ask for it. Her chief duty was to think up things for me to get for her at the store. One trip was to satisfy her sweet tooth. Although there were already countless sugar-packed goodies scattered about in little dishes or shut away in cupboards, I ended up with a list for the following:
Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (the small ones)
Small Hershey's Candy Bars
3 Kinds of chocolate, small sized in a big bag
Pepperridge Farm Milanos
Pepperridge Farm Sugar Cookies
Pepperridge Farm cookie of your choice

But I made sure that she had lots of fresh fruits and vegetables. It was Peach season so they were a staple.

A couple of days, Grammy was tired and crabby. She sometimes had trouble walking. It was a pleasure to wait on her and take care of every small need.

She now lives in a house that my uncle bought for her to live in. It has extra bedrooms for family members to visit for extended periods. It is a beautiful house. The kitchen is amazing. I can't remember ever having so much fun just cleaning a space. Her bedroom looks like a young girl's dream room. The bed linens are pink and white, and the bedroom set is from her old house, except it was from one of the girl's rooms. Funny that she is now using her children's furniture. It works very well for her needs.

We did indeed spend many hours playing Scrabble. I won maybe two or three games out of the dozens we played. I think she has the whole Scrabble Dictionary memorized.