Happily Apple-y

We went apple picking on Sunday at Wellwood Orchards, a family tradition. We had a picnic lunch on the ground amongst the rows of apple trees and then picked a 1/2 bushel of Macouns and Cortlands.Some of the best apples, like these, are beyond arm's reach. I'm sure climbing the trees would be frowned upon, but I couldn't let beauties like these drop to the ground and be pressed into cider.

... so up I went. I thought the red field coat might provide camouflage. Do I look like a giant apple hanging there?

Not to be outdone, Pipsqueak and that handsome guy I call Sweetie, did a little tree climbing of their own. We're just a family of monkeys.

There were plenty of apples right at eye level, too.

Here is the view, while we picked. The sun has not cooperated with my foliage photos this year so far.

Judy Pancoast

We are fortunate to live near a college town... and not just any college town... Hanover, New Hampshire, home of Dartmouth College. College towns are full of cultural events, festivals and celebrations, and we try to take in as many as we can.

Dartmouth College's Hopkins Center for the Performing Arts puts on a HopStop Family series during the school year. Performances are free and they're held one Saturday each month. This month was Judy Pancoast and her Tune Crew. I saw her perform a couple of songs at an entertainer's showcase a couple of years ago, and I loved her enthusiasm and energetic singing style. I picked up one her CDs, and her song "One Big Eyeball" has been a regular in our house. Pipsqueak is also fond of "Stinky Feet". She writes songs that really speak to children. How about this one? "Are We There Yet?" where the title lyrics are sung something like 45 times in 3 minutes.

Before the performance, she was out meeting and greeting the audience. I noticed she repeated each name and many times made comments about the name. During the concert, she could recall many of the names of children in the audience. She encouraged dancing, and audience participation in many of the songs. After the performance, she and her dancers were available for autographs and photos. I thought it was great that she was so accessible; I think it drew the children to her even more.

Check out the music video on her website. She also has a blog.

Monarchs

For two years prior to this one, we've collect so many caterpillars, we were running the Monarch Motel. Caterpillars check in, enjoy the all-you-can-eat milkweed buffet, and check out in about two weeks as butterflies. It was amazing to observe: you could hear them chewing, watch them shed their skin, and later emerge from the chrysalis. We'd usually have 20 "guests" in the fall.

This year, despite many fruitless hunts, we found only one caterpillar. I think it's a cyclical thing... I don't like to blame every phenomenon willy-nilly on global warming. We released her earlier this week. (We know it's a "her" because a "he" has large white spots on the lower point of his wings.) She rested on our mums for a few hours. I happened to look out in time to see her flutter away, soon to be heading to Mexico.

Bellows Falls Opera House and the Vermont Symphy Orchestra

As I've mentioned twice now, we went to see/hear the Vermont Symphony Orchestra in Bellows Falls, Vermont at the newly refurbished Bellows Falls Opera House.

I get a little nostalgic going in that building. Bellows Falls is the town next to the little hamlet where I grew up. We walked to Bellows Falls (just under a mile) for fun and action. It wasn't/isn't exactly a major metropolis but it had a few stores, a movie theater, a handful of dining establishments, a couple of ice cream places and an arcade. My mom would hand me $1 on Saturday afternoon. That would buy me a ticket for the matinee ($0.75) and a popcorn ($0.25). If I had a little change laying around, I could spend $0.10 more and get an orange drink in a paper cone nestled in a plastic holder. We weren't allowed to bring the orange drink in the theater though. It had to be consumed in the lobby during intermission; not a problem since those cones held about 3 ounces of liquid. Much different than the keg of soda they hand you at the theaters now.

This grand theater holds 553 seats, 372 on the main floor and 181 in the balcony. The balcony was never open during my matinee years. The place was in sad shape for a while: peeling plaster, wall sconces holding bare standard light bulbs a la Sybil, frayed and dusty curtains, ripped seats. But ooo-la-la, after a $3.7 million renovation, the place is posh now with two extravagant chandeliers, beautifully upholstered cushiony seats and new velvet curtains, including curtains along with walls which they drew back after dark to reveal floor to ceiling windows. I never even knew there were windows there. They hold movies and live performances. I've got to go to a movie there again sometime. Imagine seeing a movie on a large screen in a grand room instead of the cramped, over sized closets of today's megaplex.

Before I had finished taking in the opulence that surrounded me, the orchestra took their seats and the lights dimmed. I was instantly awash with emotion from the the sight of 30 or more bows rising and falling in synchronicity and the vibration I could feel in my chest from the sound of violins, violas, cellos and basses playing in harmony. I like to listen to classical music at home from time to time, but it doesn't matter what format it's on, what speakers you have or what volume it's played at, it's no match for hearing it played live.

At the end of the first half, they played a commissioned piece by Vermont composer, Pierre Jalbert, called Autumn Rhapsody. While Sweetie thought it demonstrated the cold autumn wind perfectly, I kept picturing a car chase from a Bourne movie. Nevertheless, it was fantastic and moving; Mr. Jalbert is a real talent.

Pipsqueak was asleep before the first half was over. She blamed it on the "smoothing music". That's just one of her many malapropisms which I refuse to correct because I find them so endearing. She was revived during intermission with some ginger ale and cake, so she almost made it through the rest of the concert before dozing off again.

The entire second half was my favorite classical piece, Vivaldi's The Four Season. The music director, Jaime Laredo, took my breath away as his fingers just flew on the strings of his violin. I am stingy with standing ovations, but I couldn't wait to get to my feet at the end. I wouldn't hesitate to see them again.

Foot Note

I was thinking the other day how well everything was going. We were all healthy, everything mechanical was functioning in the manner it was intended, and there have been no large and unexpected expenses or bills. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop... and then it did... figuratively and literally.

We got back from the symphony last night around 10pm. (I'll write about that tomorrow.) I carried sleeping, already pajamaed Pipsqueak to bed, went in my room, kicked off my sensible shoes, took two steps and was halted by intense and sudden pain in my left heal. I couldn't put any weight on it. I hobbled around getting ready for bed while reassuring myself that it would feel fine in the morning.

I woke up about 4am by my heel throbbing like a neon sign outside a cheap hotel. I thought about getting up to take a pain reliever, but I didn't want to get out of bed. (I will lay in bed having to pee for four hours because I don't want to get out of bed. I wonder if the smoke alarm went off if I would get up or wait until I saw flames.) At six thirty, I got up and limped to the bathroom unsure if I wanted to cry or throw up from the pain.

I should explain that I have a high threshold for pain. A yellow jacket flew down my shirt once and stung me four times in the arm, while I thought it was one of those little plastic tag connector things pricking me. I had a c-section, refused Oxycontin and took only ibuprofen during my recovery. So when I say something hurts, IT HURTS!!

I decided that if my doctor couldn't see me today, I would go to the emergency room. (More proof of the level of pain; I have NEVER been to an emergency room.) Luckily, I got in to see my doctor this morning. (A $20 co-pay is much easier to take than an emergency room charge.). After examining me and asking me a couple of questions, he diagnosed Plantar Fasciitis. I have to:

• rest (hmmm, knit, write blog, watch tv),
• ice (my feet are cold all the time already),
• get padded inner soles (the choices were overwhelming)
• and take mega doses of ibuprofen (hmmm, can I drink wine when I take that?).

If I'm a good girl and do as the doctor order, I should have significant improvement in a week or less.

Frozen peas make a great ice pack.

After reviewing the twenty-five choices of padded inner soles, I chose these Dr. Scholl's.

Would You Write Everyday in October for Free Lip Balm?

Apparently, I will... or at least I will try. I hear from Kittalog that it's National Blog Writing Month, starting today. I can't keep up with all these national months, but if free gifts are involved, it gets me interested. If you want to get in on this, go over to NaBloWriMo and leave a comment or drop her an email, and it's as easy as that... well, that and writing blog entries every single day for a whole month.

I wasn't planning to write today since I had to:

• drop my daughter at school
• go to a meeting for Environmental Learning for the Future
• pick up my mom
• go grocery shopping and run misc. errands
• go home, put away food
• eat lunch
• finish getting house ready for guest coming late tonight
• pick up daughter from school
• make early dinner
• go to Vermont Symphony Orchestra

but with lip balm dangling in front of me like a carrot in front of a horse, I found ten minutes.

Italian Chicken Soup

This soup is so easy that you can prepare it in less than an hour, yet it tastes like it's been simmering half the day. It doesn't freeze well (zucchini gets too mushy), but with speed cooking like this, it isn't necessary to make it ahead. First I'll give you the recipe; then I'll put my modifications at the end...

Serves 4.
1 tablespoon olive oil

1 green bell pepper, diced

1 small onion, chopped

3 large garlic cloves, chopped

1 tablespoon dried basil

2 teaspoons fennel seeds

1/4 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper

6 cups canned low-salt chicken broth

2 medium zucchini, diced

1 carrot, diced

1 9-ounce package fresh cheese ravioli

1 1/2 cups diced cooked chicken
Grated Parmesan cheese

Heat oil in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add bell pepper, onion, garlic, basil, fennel seeds and crushed red pepper and sauté until vegetables are just tender, about 10 minutes. Add broth. Cover pot and simmer 10 minutes. Add zucchini and carrot. Cover and simmer until carrot is almost tender, about 5 minutes. Increase heat to high and bring soup to boil. Add ravioli and boil until tender, about 5 minutes. Add chicken and cook just until heated through, about 1 minute. Season soup to taste with salt and pepper.
Ladle soup into bowls. Serve, passing cheese separately.

Now for my notes... I don't put the garlic in until just before the peppers, onion and spices are done. I don't want to take the chances that the garlic will burn or overcook. I'll have to write a whole post on garlic sometime. Finally, I use fresh tortellini instead of ravioli. It's more bite size. Pipsqueak doesn't like cheese filled pastas, so I used a chicken and prosciutto filled tortellini.