I thought I had no use for the arms of this sweater, but the truth is,
thick cashmere is fantastic when the weather outside lurks below zero for days on end and
all the heat from the wood stove goes out the front door.
I snipped the arms from the sweater, cut some curves here and there, added pins and stitched it up.
I ought to start taking process photos.
I ought to practice writing more precise directions.
Mom (Gramma) made the booties.
We have a house full of toys.
Iris plays in the potted plants, moving soil from one pot to another and rearranging the tiny figurines.
Anyone want some awesome toys?
I made up a recipe for sweet potato custard pie before Christmas.
Martin thought it was fantastic; I thought it was imperfect.
So I made up another one. This time I left out the crust. Really, I’m just interested in the formation of custard.
It was real yummy, but then I ate too much, which didn’t feel so good.
Here’s my recipe, because I didn’t see anything like it on line, and because it’s the only thing I photographed today:
2 cups (about 2 medium) sweet potato, boiled and peeled
½ cup sugar
3 eggs
½ Tablespoon cornstarch
2 cups heavy (whipping) cream
½ teaspoon coffee extract
tiny dash of cinnamon
bigger dash of ginger
blob of molasses; about 2 Tbsp
Mix well everything but the eggs and cream. Beat in the eggs. Mix in the cream.
Pour into 4 custard dishes (equivalent of one 9″ pie)
Bake at 400°F for 40 minutes or until a knife inserted halfway between center and outside comes out clean.
Cool.
Iris calls it pie. Now after dinner she chants, “Pie! Pie!”
Now that my mom is Grandma, my grandma needed a new name: Iris needed a name for my grandma. Mom (a.k.a. The New Grandma) chose “Baba.” Thats what Grandma called her grandmother when she was little and a girl could run to the corner store to buy 2¢ of sauerkraut to take home. But here, I am writing this. Grandma is my grandmother; Mom is my mom. Baba is Iris’ great-grandmother and “her Grandma” probably refers to Iris’ grandmother or my mom. “Iris’ mommy” is a roundabout way of saying “me.” Clear?
Grandma’s apartment has nice light. I wanted a portrait Iris with her Baba. It was difficult. Iris was being shy. Mom & Dad had the couch. Ari & I had the floor. Dan had a chair. I took lots of photographs. This one is my favorite:
I like how the lighting turned out in this one:
I like this one because it makes me smile:
Tho this one makes me smile even more:
This one also makes me smile, but Dan might make me remove it:
Iris found a suitable Christmas tree in Grandma’s yard.
It was about yay big.
She cut it down with a handsaw
and a little help from Grandma.
They brought it inside
and picked out some ornaments
to hang on the tree.
There are a lot of ornaments.
Dan dressed the Christmas skeleton in tinsel
and Ari found a heart
to hang amongst the ribs.
And with a bit of trumpeting and revelry,
they decreed the work to be done.
Ari and Dog take Iris and Kitty exploring around my mom’s yard: Grandma’s house.
There are dangerous places
and staircases;
relics
and paths to follow.
It is good to see Ari again.
Mom, Iris & I went to the Regional Market.
Mom chose her cabbages by density.
Iris tasted hot sauce again and again.
It was good.
