Winter solstice 2017 swept through on wind-driven snow, leaving white knuckle road conditions between Prairie Island and our Christmas Eve gathering with family in Missoula. Signs of spin outs and unintended exits were numerous en route, including a fully loaded highway department plow truck nosed into the borrow pit at the base of Roger's Pass. Though the driver was shoveling energetically to clear snow from behind his front wheels, surely he had radioed for heavy extractive horsepower and a stout tow chain to come to his rescue; backing out of his predicament looked unlikely, and his services were much-needed on the highway. I hope all such off-road adventurers arrived home safely for gatherings as festive as ours.
Over the years, gifts have become peripheral to our celebration of family, food, and fun. This year, my sister Carolyn's gift topped the fun: wine glasses engraved with memorable sayings from our late brother, Philip. They call for toasts to his memory while sparing us any future need to keep track of which glass belongs to whom in the hubbub of our rowdy gatherings. Of the sayings commemorated on mine, my favorites are: 2 feathers short, a descriptive phrase Philip reserved for those needing psychological services, such as his landlord, Keep on rollin' like the Fremont River, a reference to the need for perseverance in the face of adversity, and Say, Margaret!, Philip's classic opener whenever he needed assistance on some chore needing immediate--and I mean immediate--attention, like repairing torn jeans, holding a post upright in a newly dug post hole while he shoveled in fill and tamped it, or loosening lug nuts on a flat tire on the old tractor with a dead battery. You know, urgent chores.
Over the years, gifts have become peripheral to our celebration of family, food, and fun. This year, my sister Carolyn's gift topped the fun: wine glasses engraved with memorable sayings from our late brother, Philip. They call for toasts to his memory while sparing us any future need to keep track of which glass belongs to whom in the hubbub of our rowdy gatherings. Of the sayings commemorated on mine, my favorites are: 2 feathers short, a descriptive phrase Philip reserved for those needing psychological services, such as his landlord, Keep on rollin' like the Fremont River, a reference to the need for perseverance in the face of adversity, and Say, Margaret!, Philip's classic opener whenever he needed assistance on some chore needing immediate--and I mean immediate--attention, like repairing torn jeans, holding a post upright in a newly dug post hole while he shoveled in fill and tamped it, or loosening lug nuts on a flat tire on the old tractor with a dead battery. You know, urgent chores.
Katrina's selection of artisan breads were favorites: pumpkin pull-apart, antipasto braids, and pesto pumpkin seed swirls. All are stand-alone delicious and perfect with our favorite winter soups, so I'm glad she baked extras of each. The photo features her late-night production line.
We're now braced against heavy snow and deep cold predicted for these final days of 2017 and into the new year. Though sheep and cows continue to dig for their dinners, should our snow reality match the prediction, we will start daily feeding. That necessitates diesel anti-gel additive and all the cold weather tractor hassles that we have been able to postpone thus far.
Whether or not feeding chores loom, we look forward to a small gathering of neighbors at our home on New Year's Eve. On the menu: meatballs, smoked turkey, marinated veggies, various dips, chips, and crackers, a salad of fat pink grapefruit segments topped with sliced kiwis and pomegranate seeds (on my favorite red glass platter), accompanied by wine, sparkling cider, or cranberry juice, plus a tray of holiday cookies. If anybody's in the mood, join us. We make no promises about the county roads, but we'll have our driveway plowed, the wood stove crackling, food and drink a'plenty, and candles a'glow.
We're eager to greet 2018. Let 'er rip!
We're now braced against heavy snow and deep cold predicted for these final days of 2017 and into the new year. Though sheep and cows continue to dig for their dinners, should our snow reality match the prediction, we will start daily feeding. That necessitates diesel anti-gel additive and all the cold weather tractor hassles that we have been able to postpone thus far.
Whether or not feeding chores loom, we look forward to a small gathering of neighbors at our home on New Year's Eve. On the menu: meatballs, smoked turkey, marinated veggies, various dips, chips, and crackers, a salad of fat pink grapefruit segments topped with sliced kiwis and pomegranate seeds (on my favorite red glass platter), accompanied by wine, sparkling cider, or cranberry juice, plus a tray of holiday cookies. If anybody's in the mood, join us. We make no promises about the county roads, but we'll have our driveway plowed, the wood stove crackling, food and drink a'plenty, and candles a'glow.
We're eager to greet 2018. Let 'er rip!
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