Scout Moves

Before our trip to Maine, No. 1 and I paid a visit to the potter , and I discovered his new bread baker . It makes baguettes, and I couldn't resist. I tried it out this past weekend, and the bread was a success. It turns out to be perfect for sandwiches or croutons or just as a snack with a thin layer of cream cheese and a slathering of pumpkin butter. The only problem I can see is that I should have bought two. The bakers are kind of small, and most bread recipes make enough for two loaves. I guess that means I have to go back to the shop. Darn it. Here is the recipe I used: French Bread 1 1/4 cups warm water 1 package active dry yeast (2 1/2 teaspoons) 1 tablespoon sugar 1 1/2 teaspoons salt 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 1 large egg, beaten Pour warm water into a large bowl and sprinkle yeast and sugar over top. Stir and let rest 10 minutes. Stir in salt and flour, 1/2 cup at a time, until mixture forms a soft dough. Knead until smooth, about 5 minutes. Cover with a tea towel in a

I am SO out of vacation mode now after taking two nearly back to back trips, but I've got a few stray photos left over from this past week. First up, the Portland Head Light. This was just a short drive across a bridge and across an island from Portland. Very near the lighthouse was a plaque explaining that Longfellow used to walk to this place for inspiration. He knew the light keeper and liked to sit here and write. Longfellow's house is in the art district in Portland, as is a statue and museum. The lighthouse was beautiful, but right next door was something that looked a little more...well, sinister. We thought it was the remains of a fort, but there were no signs around it. The roof is missing, making the walls dangerous, I suppose, so all entrances were gated off. It just seemed abandoned and the perfect place for something bad to happen. Creepy, huh? And I'd like to say more to encourage anyone thinking of visiting Portland to reserve a room at the Pomegranate Inn. T

Yesterday was an interesting mix of delight and frustration. We began with breakfast where two relatively local couples talked about what to do and see near here. A woman—that kind of stereotypical North Eastern all-the-best-school types who speaks with soft As like Katheryn Hepburn—suggested driving north on Route 1 and heading east when something looks interesting. "If it's ugly, turn around," she said. So, that's generally what we did. We started out in Freeport because everyone said to at least stop by. It's an outlet place but not like the average outlet mall in the midwest. It's an actual village with stores and street. Mainly it's got an LL Bean store, and I mean an LL BEAN STORE. We each got a few things and then got back on Route 1. We headed east at Georgetown and drove down a winding, hilly road for what felt like hours —probably more like 20 minutes, or maybe 10—with the sun shining through the trees and Beethoven's 5th pounding away on the

Day 2 in Portland brought nicer weather wise. It was windy yesterday but not nearly as cold as the day before. The inn provides breakfast in the dining room, and so far it has been a treat. One morning we sat with a couple from Boston, and they gave us tips on what to see and do while we had roasted veggie fritattas. Yesterday, it was just the two of us, and we were served stuffed French toast. It was basically dessert for breakfast but very good dessert. After that, we walked to the art district and toured the museum of art. The main building was designed by I. M. Pei (and partners) and looks like this. There was noisy construction going on in the lobby, so there was no fee to enter. I was expecting the American painters—Andrew Wyeth and Winslow Homer—but I did not expect to see Monet and Cassatt and Renoir. There were a few pieces by these and others, so every room was a surprise. There was also an exhibit about exploring the arctic with photos of Admiral Peary and his wife along wit

Maine is cold because it's March, but yesterday I heard a local say this is January weather. When we woke up yesterday, the temperature was 19˚ with a wind chill of 7˚. It warmed up to the mid 20s, but gusting winds kept it feeling like the arctic, or at least how I imagine the arctic on one of its warmer days. We are staying at a beautiful little inn that is sandwiched inbetween old houses on tiny streets. It's the Pomegranate Inn, and this is the front door. Our room has fascinating hand-painted walls so no two flowers or birds are exactly alike. This is the fireplace. I could have used it last night if I had known how to operate the thing. This old house has big windows that rattle with wind, and I'm sure they are not sufficiently sealed. I'm not complaining, mind you. Just observing. Besides being cold, Maine is also nice. Everyone is nice. And this sign at one of the piers proves it. While trying to navigate through town, we found ourselves on a bridge with no choi

I'm leaving on a road trip to Maine tomorrow with Daughter No. 1. we'll be spending a few days in Portland, going to the symphony and possibly visiting the Shakers, although they are slow to answer their email. And then we'll be heading to Boston to meet Rich and Sassy Sundry. Yippee!! While I'm gone, amuse yourself with this: Balldroppings

My family is in the news today, even though this piece has nothing to do with the news. Two weeks ago, a family in my church sang a song I grew up with, and they did it in a way that caused me to reminisce for over a week. We all sang in my house, and we covered all the parts. When we would visit my grandparents in Alabama every summer, they would sing, too. Actually, my grandmother would often play the piano, and Granddaddy would stand with the rest of us and belt out this bass voice that would pop the pennies off of a dead Irishman. That phrase makes no sense here, but I've always wanted to use it. Anyway, I have been talking to my mother a lot the last few days because my sister had surgery (she's recovering, by the way, and does not have lymphoma. At this point, we're confident that even though the tumor was malignant, the badness was contained and removed). But back to my mother, she filled me in on how her family worked their cotton field in Alabama before the stuff

It's going to be 70˚ in the middle of Ohio today. Just knowing that makes the place look a little greener. When Eustacia got off the plane in Cleveland the other day after a week in the lush green of Orlando, this entire state looked black and white. It was like Kansas before the tornado. Once I got settled in at home, looked through my latest issue of Bon Appétit and bought groceries for the week's menu, I decided to make a cake. I hardly ever make cake, but this one seemed like spring. And I was in desperate need of spring. Well, it not only seems like spring, it smells and tastes like it, too, with lemon and blueberries. Yum. Make this, and bring out some much needed color. One large lemon should be enough for both the glaze and the blueberry sauce. Lemon Cornmeal Cake with Lemon Glaze and Blueberry Sauce Serves 8 to 10 Glaze 1 1/2 cups (packed) powdered sugar, sifted 2 tablespoons (or more) fresh lemon juice Cake 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour 1/3 cup yellow cornmeal 3/4 cup

This is Daughter No. 1 napping at her first Thanksgiving. What a little bug. She grew to love this plaid blanket even though it eventually ended up in tatters. She has managed to save a bit of it still. So, what is No. 1 up to now, you may wonder. Well, I'll tell you. She has just enrolled in the graduate program at Berkeley and will most likely be known as Doctor No. 1 in five years—chemistry is her thing. She has been touring universities these last few weekends to decide which of the chemistry departments best suits her, and Berkeley is the one. We'll move her to California some time in July—I'll tell you, having a child leave home for college is one thing, but having them move half-way across the country to be completely on their own is another. But let's not talk about that now. Let's just be glad the kid has found her niche, and one she is apparently very good at. Yippee for No. 1.

A weird thing happened yesterday. Husband had a random thought about an old friend we have lost track of. Joan was a woman we knew when we lived in New Jersey years ago but haven't kept in contact with. He was trying to factor how old she was, knowing she was older than we were but not by much. It was just a random thought. You know how those things pop into your head and pop right out again. Last night, husband received an email from someone we have known since those New Jersey years telling him that our old friend died the night before. She had apparently been ill, but because we didn't communicate, we didn't know. Joan was one of my first friends when we moved to New Jersey as newlyweds. Husband had friends there, and they eventually became my friends as well, but Joan stepped in right off the bat. A couple of years ago, I wrote a post about a memorable Thanksgiving —she hosted that raucous affair. She also hosted my baby shower before Number 1 was born, and she gave us

OK, this will be the final post about Disney, and then I'll drop it. I promise. Dive made a good point—not everyone knows what the place looks like, so I've got a few pictures. First, I want to explain how we arranged for the trip. I planned it through AAA, which gave us a package deal that I paid for ahead of time. It included hotel (Wilderness Lodge) and a meal plan that gave us so many snacks, quick-service meals and table-service meals. It's a good deal because some of the table-service meals can be pretty pricey, while others are reasonable. It all balances out in the end and is a cheaper than paying per meal. Disney had a promotion when I made the reservations that included a $200 gift card to cover souvenirs and stuff not included in the meal plan like wine and appetizers. And because we stayed more than four nights, we got the fifth night free. I chose the Wilderness Lodge because it's on the lake beside Magic Kingdom, and you can take a ferry boat to get there

Yesterday, we spent all day at the Animal Kingdom park, and our bones were tired. After walking around on cement for three days, we just wanted to sit down, in the shade. It's been 85 degrees and sunny every day, and all the little kids in the place seemed to be misbehaving, and I was cranky about having to be anywhere near them and their whining. The park was interesting, and some of the attractions were fun, but something seemed to be missing. I kept thinking we should wander over to "fake" Asia, and maybe then we could go to "fake" Africa for the safari through the "savanna." I overheard a little girl say to her father, "Dad, look at this fake bamboo?" He assured her it was real, but she had become accustomed to assuming everything fake. It's all very clever, but it gets to you after a while. You start to question the validity of everything. Because the moon is bright and full every night, Eustacia and I have concluded it's actuall

So...yesterday, we spent a week at EPCOT. It's possible we arrived too early for the things we wanted to do, and then we had to stick around for a dinner reservation in France. You miss your dinner reservation, and you're left out in the cold. We did the usual stuff in the future world area, like riding through the giant ball. I remember that as being a dull ride, but it was actually interesting. The ride got stuck for a few minutes, but this time instead of being trapped in a haunted cemetery, we were stranded in the renaissance, with da Vinci or somebody sculpting on one side and Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel on the other. It was serene and beautiful, and a choir was chanting "Hallelujah." Once the ride got going again, though, we turned the corner into a new age and were confronted by the harsh, dirty and ugly world of the industrial revolution. I wanted to go back to the chanting and the painting and the sculpting. Finally, we got to rest our aching bon

In case you were wondering, it's a pleasant 80-plus degrees in Orlando and perfectly lovely. Normally I would have temperatures above 70 or so, but this isn't so bad—low humidity and nice breezes. Yesterday, we were sitting in Fantasy Land having a pleasant lunch, and Eustacia looked up at the blue skies and said, "Even the sky is happy here." That's Eustacia. My only regret at the magic kingdom yesterday was that we only got to ride Peter Pan's Flight once, but we've got a few more days, so we might take the ferry over to the Magic Kingdom one evening and give it another shot when the line is shorter. We only rode It's A Small World twice (hee hee), and though I know once would be more than enough for a lot of people, I find the thing mesmerizing. Here is a photo of Don Quixote challenging the evil wind mill. While going through the Haunted Mansion on those weird black cars that revolve around, the ride broke down for a few minutes. We happened to be

This is the dialog that occurred today: Coffee maker: (after submitting to a thorough cleaning) Sigh. Please don't run me through another cycle. I'm exhausted. Me: I'm sorry. I know you've been through a lot today, but I need you to do this one last thing. Eustacia: I don't think the coffee maker actually said those things. Me: I prefer that my appliances talk to me. Eustacia: Then you should watch The Brave Little Toaster Me: Ohhh, I love that movie!! Disney World, here we come.

The best toy ever, the View-Master, is being put to sleep after 70 years of making kids happy. It seems the new kids aren't amused by the View-Master. It doesn't have enough moving parts, doesn't make interesting noises and doesn't do all the work for you. You actually have to use your imagination to play with it. I treasured my View-Master when I was a kid. Maybe that's because I didn't have a closet full of toys, or maybe that's because I was the type who liked being drawn into another world that seemed to be on another plane. I had Quick Draw McGraw and Deputy Dawg. I had the Flintstones and famous places and wild animals. I had Jungle Book and Disney Land and Snoopy and space images. You could hold the red viewer up to your eyes so close you couldn't see anything of the real world but could focus just on the 3-D images in front of your eyes. And you could live in that world as long as you could hold your arms up to your face. Yep. I loved my View-Mas

More people than I could possibly count without losing track have lost their jobs in this sucky economic situation. Well, not to be insensitive to the plight of the unemployed, but I have quit my job. Yep, voluntarily gave it up. I have been a graphic designer since Eustacia, now 18, was three months old. No. 1 was three, and we were spending our days governed by snack time and nap time and Baby Beluga. I remember the day Husband called from work and asked if I'd like a job—it's something new—it's called desktop publishing. I learned to use a computer and a mouse and everything Adobe could come up with. Well, not quite everything because I stopped at web design. Through everything that happens to people—the death of my father, the ups and downs of the economy, the growing up of our children, the growing up of me—I have designed book covers and catalogs and CD packaging, and that mouse I hardly knew what to do with 18 years ago has become an extension of my right hand. But

It's all of 9 degrees in Small Town this morning, and the headline in Small Town Newspaper reads "Jobless Rate On the Rise." sigh. With those things in mind, I present you with this .

That's a suggestion for me, not so much for you unless you've got what I've got—circle vision. Instead of tunnel vision where you see only one thing, you see everything in circles and have to force yourself to focus on the task at hand. Look, something shiny? I've actually been pretty focused lately trying to handle one task or event at a time, but my brain is actually juggling lots of things. I had a horn lesson yesterday, so I practiced and drove to Mt. Union and paid attention for the hour of instruction (I even played pretty well), but I also interviewed a woman from the local Hospice office and polished up a news piece about it and thought about another news idea—or two or three. And I bought groceries and stopped by the dry cleaners and the gas station and the coffee shop and AAA. And I cooked pork in the slow cooker. And I thought about all the upcoming trips I'm going to be taking. Eustacia's spring break is next week, but no one else is free, so she and

I found this on Postsecret.com today. I'm posting it here because I went to this Bible college, and I remember the PDA rules that defined "physically appropriate." The couple is now holding hands.