thunderbirds are go

It looks like L. will be moving here in January for her next semester of school, and hopefully, the summer of 2010. We're sorting details, schools, bedrooms, etc. but it's all a very exciting prospect. I'll have more details, as if those are needed, in the near future.

X. decided while out-and-about over the weekend that she was meant to create a desk/computer/work corner in the living room. The area was already set with a table, computer, chair, and whatnot but she decided - at the store - that what it really needed to be was a corner full of a memory-foam pad, nice linens, pillows, and other accouterments required by queen-like entities. What we have now is a removed table and a floor-based semi-harem looking area where she can sit on the floor or kneel whilst doing whatever it is she does in that corner. My very first input/question was this: what are the odds, do you think, of both cats and both of your children deciding that your pillow carnavale is the best place in the World to sit, nap, sleep, or just mill about? She feigned surprise that any of those four would even contemplate entering her castle. Sure...that hope will work out just fine. Pumpkin spends time curled up in the wall-corner beneath the bookshelves so that he's protected from any "death from above". Of course, she was correct on Lemon; Lemon would just as soon die than spend any time in or near her competition. Lemon looks at the entire configuration in disgust - as well she should.

We've got a jaunt to Vermont next week. We'll leave here on Tuesday night and drive halfway with the finish on Wednesday morning. The plan is to avoid the I-95 traffic and run the left/right-hook through Pennsylvania and New York State (see you various 80s interstates). I'll keep everyone posted from the road. X's cousins are hosting Thanksgiving and I'm working that day merely as a sous and then fully running the day-after-Thanksgiving festivities and cooking. Interesting...

eat drink

Our drive through eight states was a grand success: Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Maine. Normally, where I was raised, 660 miles might get you two or three states – eight was a number that required flight. We cut the trip down the middle and spend Wednesday night in Middleton, NY, appropriately enough. We arrived at the farm in Gray, ME at 1pm sharp and walked into Christian’s full-fledged Thanksgiving cookery show. My attempt to jump in upon arrival – as planned in my own little mind – was thwarted by my forgetting to score the chestnuts before roasting. What you get in that type of situation is the first exploding nut causing everyone to hit the ground in avoidance of shrapnel. X immediately recognized the sound – experience teaches – and Chris pulled the pan out and immediately covered the ammo with a towel. There was much exploding and chestnut guts on the kitchen floor. We managed to save more than was needed and had a good laugh at my well-deserved expense. Chris flew through the Turkey, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, roasted mushrooms, parsnips, and beets, gravy, brussel sprouts with green beans, pumpkin and cherry pie, a beautiful apple crisp, and lord knows what else. I did the apple and chestnut stuffing along with a way too big pan of oyster stuffing. Christian’s mother brought along a fantastic pile of pearl onions and the homemade cranberry sauce to finish out the spread. I think that covers it all but I’m making no guarantees. Amongst the eight of us sitting around the Norman Rockwell farm table we might have damaged about 10% of the product.

We all headed into Portland this morning for shopping, tea, and menu planning – as if we need more food. Christian and I parted with the rest of the crew and he showed me the dreamy food shopping available in the city. We have five live lobsters that we’ll (he…with my oohing and ahhing) turn into fresh stuffed lobster pasta that he’s throwing onto of the lobster bisque. I’m going to try to put together a lobster-spinach pizza thing as an opener for the clan when they start sniffing about the kitchen.

Our last stop on the way out of town was at an Italian shop (restaurant and personal shopping) where I stocked up on a bunch of stuff I can haul home for the kitchen. But, the most awesome part of the joint was the baker who presides over his oven and goods. He does primarily fresh bread and pizza that come out on 30-minute intervals indicated by signs that keep the folk away from the artist. We waited for the bread train for about twenty minutes and grabbed a half-dozen loaves of the most amazing bread I’ve ever eaten. There was some idea of driving back to the farm with hot, fresh bread in the backseat – and we did drive to the farm – but one loaf was quickly devoured by those in the front seat.

It’s a bit cold. It’s November. It’s Maine.

Happy belated Thanksgiving to all.

t