I live on a farm ... — recipes

When I make my special cranberry apple pie during the holidays, I save a bit of crust to cut into the shape of leaves to decorate the center of the top crust. I usually cut out four leaves freehand, place them in the center and then form three berries for the center of the leaves. It makes a beautiful presentation. It is raining here again, as it has for the past three days. To me, this weather looks and feels much like winter because this is about what winter was like in Los Angeles. I realize I am in for...

... oh wait, it isn't Christmas yet. The snow had me confused there for a couple of days. Well , now I have had a preview of what it might look like here if we get snow on Christmas; the white Christmas I illogically prayed and hoped for every year in Los Angeles. I just had to move a bit more than 3,000 miles in a north easterly direction in order to find it. The snow definitely heightening my anticipation of the approaching moods of the holidays and gave my husband and I even more incentive to have a cuddle....

It started snowing yesterday afternoon at about four, but it didn't stick much at all. It snowed more last night and during the night, again not sticking. But this morning it started snowing again while it was still dark out and it did begin to stick. The power flicked on and off several times and our Internet connection left us completely for many hours. It on right now, and the sun is actually coming and going. We got a few inches of snow, and it is out there melting quickly. I have been out on three photo journeys this morning,...

My mother's recipe box is a treasure chest filled with jewels. I used to love to browse through it, gazing and the various hand-written index cards and clippings from newspapers, magazines, and product packaging. In that magic treasure box she has recipes from her mother's farm, my father's mother's farm, her own recipes of all the dishes she made when she was raising her children, and those shared by sisters, neighbors, cousins, a nanny, and even strangers in some cases, I would imagine. My parents are wonderful people; they grew up on farms in Mt. Airy, North Carolina, the boyhood...

As I knit the tiny baby hat for the Caps to the Capital campaign, I consider the fact that perhaps a one-day premmie baby out there in the wide world, somewhere, will live because she (or he) had this little cap to keep her head warm. Quite an opportunity I have in this wee little bit of yarn and stitches to possibly make a difference in my own little way somewhere in our world. I catch myself saying a little prayer for that child as I knit, like those nuns who knit prayer shawls and use knitting as a means...