Mushroom Mania

  It's here. What I've been yearning and waiting for: April! O month of many joys! Bright green leaves emerging. Birds singing. And - mushrooms sprouting! (insert happy dance here) It will soon be time for the Great Morel Hunt. It's an annual weeks-long tradition for me, Mr. Curious, and my outdoorsy friend, Cheryl. Cheryl & I take a week's vacation from work. We pack lunches, coat ourselves with tick spray, and don backpacks stuffed with paper bags for our finds. We spend our days skulking through the woods, carefully scanning the forest floor for that coveted prize - morel mushrooms.
 Normal folks are out in the local parks enjoying the spring air, playing ball, walking their dogs, etc. They look at us with raised eyebrows when we suddenly emerge from a side trail, all disheveled and dirty, with scratches on our arms and sticks in our hair... How did we get so crazy?

 

 

 
Aahh - to be out in the spring woods again!

 
 
 It all started back in the spring of 2008 when I dragged Mr. Curious to a guided mushroom walk at a local park just for kicks. Very interesting! That summer, I noticed quite a few different mushrooms in our yard. I took pictures of them and then of course I grew curious as to what species they were. My old Golden field guide I’ve had since childhood just didn’t cut it. So, I went out & bought some more in-depth field guides to mushrooms. I found my species and then some. I read the books cover to cover – hmmm, what’s this about edible species?…. Think I’ll go down in the woods here & try to find this one…That was it. I was obsessed. I got Cheryl involved and she’s even more obsessed than I am. We’ve gone ‘shrooming ever since whenever we can and we've found many different types of edible mushrooms. 
 Mr. Curious enjoys ‘shrooming, too. It’s a traditional activity in this area among the old timers and he’d done it as a kid with his dad & uncle. He & I have enjoyed many an afternoon riding our bikes on the local trails and mushroom hunting at the same time.
  It’s true that there are absolutely deadly mushrooms out there, but it’s not as hard as I thought it would be to find safe edible kinds. However, I must warn you if you're thinking of trying this - you HAVE to be certain of what you're doing! Attend a mushroom outing. Read books. Learn all about the poisonous species in your area. Seriously - you can die.
 But I'm mostly discussing morels in this post. I don't want to scare you off - morels are a great beginner's mushroom as far as safety goes. They're unique in appearance. There is only one lookalike to morels - the aptly named false morel. Luckily, the foolproof way to tell the difference is this: morels are completely hollow and false morels are not. If you slice a morel in half, it is empty inside. False morels are stuffed with convoluted fleshy walls and cottony stuff. False morels are (usually) poisonous. Some people have eaten them anyway. Apparently, sometimes they can be consumed with no ill effects, sometimes they cause severe illness, and sometimes they cause kidney failure and death. To me, that's another intriguing facet of mushrooms... Why? How can it be non-toxic, sort of toxic, and/or totally toxic? Are there actually different false morel species? Could be... Anyway, we don't come across them very often, and they do look different on the outside, once you get used to seeing true morels. 

 

                                                           
                                                         Morel -  HOLLOW

                                             
                                                                                   False morel - NOT hollow           
                                                                


 Now that 5 years have passed since that first guided mushroom outing, we've calmed down a bit and narrowed our mushroom target species to several favorites. Each has a time of year and type of location that it prefers. Here in my area, the edible 'shroom seasons are these: Late April is Morel season, and they grow around dead & dying elm trees. July is Chanterelle and Black Trumpet season - more random, they grow in woods with various tree species. September/October is Sheepshead (Maitake) which grow on oak trees, and also Horse Mushrooms, which grow on open lawns or under spruces.

 

 

                                                
                                           A few morels trying to hide from us!

 

 Well, look who we found...

 

 

 But morel season is by far our favorite! It's a combination of things: getting out in the woods at the peak of spring after a long dreary winter indoors. Seeing wildflowers everywhere, listening to birds, even finding box turtles newly emerged from hibernation. We always have a memorable nature adventure on every hike. We enjoy all the little things the woods have to offer whether or not we find any morels. But then if we do find some, or hit a mother lode of morels, we excitedly stuff our packs and go skipping down the trail high-fiving each other.
Another exciting aspect of morel hunting is the secretive mind set that 'shroomers have. We don't divulge our hot spots - or any spots for that matter. All 'shroomers act this way. There's nothing worse than arriving at a favorite spot, only to find that another morel hunter has beaten you to it and all that's left is 'stumps' - what remains after a morel is cut from the ground. (Good 'shroomers cut or pinch them off; we don't pull them out and disrupt the 'roots') We act all cagey when we see another person out on the trails. Who, us? We're not mushroom hunting! We're just taking pictures of wildflowers (we always have our cameras along). No mushrooms here; nothing to see here, move along. Cheryl & I are always muttering to each other "What's that guy doing over there? He's morel hunting, isn't he? Should we kill him?" Ha!

 

 

 

 

 

  WaHOOO - a mother lode! Look at the photo carefully - there are morels all

  over this little patch of ground.  About 20 mushrooms are visible. We picked 320 morels in this one spot!

 Yet another fun part of this pursuit is the fact that morels can be very elusive, with the seeming ability to appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. They resemble other things - or rather, other things resemble them. Pine cones. Rocks. Leaves. Lumps of dirt. Dirty golf balls. As a side note: we seem to find golf balls in the woods no matter where we go, even when we're nowhere near a driving range or golf course, or even houses. I am not kidding; there are golf balls everywhere. I'm starting to think that golf balls have come to life and are breeding in the woods of America. But anyway, back to morels. You need to develop your 'morel eyes'. Once you've found some, this gets easier and you do get better at spotting them. We squat down to get a ground level view and circle around looking from different angles. We ruffle through the green undergrowth with our hiking sticks, looking for morels hiding underneath. You wouldn't believe how often we accidentally step on one. Aargh! Then we freeze in place, afraid to move at all as we strain our eyeballs even further.

 To be successful at all, you need to know your trees. Once you're familiar with trees, it's easy to spot elms and in our area that's where most of the morels grow. They can also be found under tulip poplar and ash trees. They have a symbiotic relationship with elms (as do a lot of mushrooms and trees). I think it's incredible how fungi and trees live together - it's another hidden world in nature. Mushrooms that have this relationship with trees are termed mycorrhizal.

All fungi have extensive networks of  'roots' called the mycelium. In the case of mycorrhizal fungi, the mycelium stretches through the soils underground and attaches to the fine networks of feeder roots from the trees above. They have a mutually beneficial arrangement. The fungi help to fix soil nutrients to the tree roots and the tree roots give glucose to the fungi. Here's the crazy part: the fungi mycelium are actually not roots. The mycelium is the real organism (like a tree) - the mushrooms that appear above ground are just the fruiting body. So really, picking mushrooms is like picking berries or apples. The mushroom appears above ground to spread spores (like the fruits spread seeds). In the case of morels, it is said that when the host elm tree begins to die, the underground morel mycelium sends up numerous mushrooms in an effort to spread spores and reproduce before the host tree dies. For the morel hunter, the tree's loss is our gain! Healthy elm trees don't usually have any morels growing under them. The mycelium is probably there, but it hasn't sent up any fruiting bodies. Cool, huh?
 We've found the most morels under elms that we term "crusty".  A crusty elm is half dead with the bark on the smaller branches starting to crack and slip off. It might still be alive with leaves on some of the twigs, but you can tell that it's days are numbered. Once the elm is bald and dead, no more morels.

 

 

                      

                                                The happy result of a day foraging


 I can’t say why mushrooms are so intriguing to me. I think they’re all fascinating - poisonous, edible, whatever. They’re pretty, and they just sit there begging to be photographed. It’s strangely thrilling to forage for them, discover them, and then eat them if possible. Maybe it stirs up some kind of primal hunter-gatherer instinct. Whatever it is, I urge you to get a good mushroom guide, study it, and then join us in the wonderful world of mushroom hunting! It's a great way to get some exercise, enjoy nature, and receive the ultimate reward for all this craziness - the unbelievably rich, nutty gourmet flavor of these fabulous fungi. As an added bonus, many studies have been showing the powerful medicinal and immune system boosting properties of various wild mushrooms, not just morels. So when we eat them, it's nice to know they're actually doing us some good. Just remember, wild mushrooms must be cooked - no eating them raw or you'll have a day of, er, intestinal upset.

 I will continue with a second installment regarding morels next time. After all, you'll need to know what to do once you return home with a big ol' bag of mushrooms. Meanwhile, enjoy yourself out there!


 

 

 

 

Critters gotta to eat, too

 Now that February is finally drawing to a close, we've been getting the occasional warm-ish day, causing the frozen ground to soften up a bit. I was out in the yard the other day and I noticed numerous little piles of mud erupted out of the grass. These piles of mud are joined by long ridges of disrupted soil, soft and mushy underfoot. Are you curious yet? This is the handiwork of moles. I suppose most homeowners would get upset over this defacement of their grass, but it really doesn't bother me that they're out there busily tunneling across our yard. Moles are not rodents and they don't hibernate. They're active during winter and they are insectivores - they eat insects, worms, centipedes, and the like. They're actually helping us by eating various pest insect grubs that are tucked underground, among which are Japanese Beetle larvae. Thank you, moles!
 It pains me to see the various poisons in garden centers that are used to kill not only insect pests, but moles too. I prefer to let nature operate undisturbed as much as possible, plus I think moles are interesting little critters.
 One species of mole we have around here is the star-nosed mole. Talk about bizarre - this thing is simply crazy looking! Moles are odd looking to begin with, but the star-nosed really kicks it up a notch. It looks like someone gave it one of those cartoon exploding cigars. Here is a good article about them, with photos. While I have seen star-nosed moles out there now & then, the molehills were more likely the work of the eastern mole, the kind that comes to mind when you think "mole". But anyway, why would you want to kill any mole? They're fascinating ( as all creatures are to me ) and they're just doing their job out there.

I extend this same philosophy to spiders and snakes - they're just doing their job. They gotta eat, too. I personally have a strong aversion to spiders. Okay, well, they freak me out. All right, I admit it - they make me scream and jump around as if I grabbed an electric fence... But that's only when I suddenly see one. Once I know where a spider has set up housekeeping, I leave it alone to make a living - giving it a wide berth, mind you. ( This only applies to outdoor spiders. If they're in the house, I'm sorry to say they are, er, disposed of. )
I think spiders and snakes are just as fascinating as any other critter. Last year I was trimming back a clump of irises when I was startled ( okay - I screamed. And jumped around. ) by a large wolf spider in between the sheltering leaves. After I recovered my nerve, I noticed it was sitting on its egg case. Believe it or not, I got my camera & documented it. I liked how it was guarding the egg case. So I worked around it and left those few leaves standing there, which served the double purpose of saving the spider and avoiding putting my hands anywhere near it. Eventually, it moved on. But there's more of 'em out there - LOTS more - doing their jobs and eating insects.

                                                         
                                                       Arachnid mother love


As to snakes, we leave them alone too. I'm not freaked out by snakes like I am by spiders. I used to catch them when I was a kid. We never kill snakes. ( I hope you don't either! ) They're another helpful creature to have around the yard & gardens, since they eat all manner of things, many of which are garden pests. We commonly see garter snakes and black rat snakes here. We see garter snakes quite often around our yard. I frequently come across one as I'm weeding the landscaped areas. We see them all the time in the vegetable garden, which is great since insects are a large part of their diet. It's nice to know that they're out there patrolling for pests and helping us.

 

                                          Garter snake - a helpful garden ally


 We don't see black rat snakes as often - maybe two or three times a summer - often enough to know they're out there. These snakes are quite large, often 6 feet long. They eat a lot of mice and chipmunks. Unfortunately, they also eat birds. But that's part of nature - snakes gotta eat, too. You might recall my first blog post about bluebirds - we install snake-proof guards under the bluebird boxes. Yeah, snakes gotta eat, but we put the bird boxes there so we have to be responsible about it!
 One summer Mr. Curious & I were doing yard work when suddenly there was a shrill racket and commotion in one the rhododendron bushes. Robins were screeching and fluttering around the bush. I guess you know where I'm going with this... The robins had a nest with young in there and a rat snake had found it. By the time we got close enough to see it, the snake was coiled around the nest - and the young robins. It sat there looking like a nightmarish fist clenching the birds. Beaks protruded from the coils at different angles. Rat snakes are powerful constrictors. We let nature take its course. At first it was horrifying. I hate to see any animal die. But it's life, too. So we crouched there and watched. Then I ran for my camera. It was actually an awe-inspiring spectacle. And it's astonishing how a small snake mouth can unhinge and consume a nearly grown robin! The snake ate 3 birds. Below is a picture of it with its body stretched out of proportion, stuffed with young robins.

                                                           I need a nap now

It's also cool how a creature with no appendages can expertly climb trees and shrubs. I have to say that this was one of the most amazing things I've ever witnessed in nature. Hard to watch, but amazing. Shocking, perhaps, to some of you. But nature needs predators to keep things in check. If not for moles, spiders, and snakes ( not to mention bats and countless other creatures ) we would be completely overrun with bugs, mice, and what have you. It would be impossible to grow anything, diseases would spread - it would be a disaster of epic proportion. Usually when you think of predators, you think of the big mammals like tigers & wolves. But you don't need to watch a documentary to see predators in action - just think smaller and you'll see all the action you ever wanted to see. Thousands of little life & death dramas play out every day in our yards & gardens. That's how it is, and how it should be. Critters gotta eat. And their quest for food can provide the curious and observant person with some incredible experiences! I'm quite happy to live here, thank you very much, with a lumpy lawn, spiderwebs festooning the gardens, and snakes hanging from the shrubs. So, who's ready to come over for a cookout this summer? Ha!

Groundhogs & Grandpa - a legacy of curiosity

Today is Groundhog Day. Every year it brings vivid memories of my grandfather. I give him a lot of the credit for my lifelong fascination with the natural world. Although I'm pretty sure I was just born curious & outdoorsy, he did much to really bring it out of me. When I was a kid I often spent a few weeks staying with him and Grandma during summer vacation. They lived in a 150 year old house on several acres at the edge of the suburbs. Oh, how I loved going to stay with them! To me, it was a kingdom to explore. There was a small creek running through the middle of the property and Grandpa had built a little wooden bridge over it. Beyond the bridge he mostly let things alone, so it was brambly and overgrown there, with a small woods. I spent countless happy days roaming through this mini paradise, making forts and castles with branches and building little dams in the creek. Grandpa showed me how to flip over stones in the creek to find crayfish and answered the typical thousand questions a kid can come up with.

There was a groundhog burrow by the creek, and Grandpa spent hours in front of the hole, sitting motionless on a lawn chair holding rye crackers until finally he tamed the groundhog. I can't say how long it took him to win the critter's confidence; it seemed to me at the time that it had always been that way. I can never forget going out to the burrow with him to feed it. He did his best to get me to sit quiet and still in my lawn chair, cracker in my outstretched hand. And I did it! I was ecstatic when the groundhog slowly came towards me, took the cracker, and then sat there in front of us nibbling away. Somehow the local newspaper became aware of Grandpa's tame groundhog and did a little piece on it. Grandpa cut it out of the paper and hung it over his desk in the kitchen. I have the article now. I framed it and put it over my desk and I smile every time I look at it:

 

 

 

                                                      Thank you, Grandpa


I can recall every detail of those days - the dry and tasteless rye crackers ( of course I tried them! ) and the maroon metal cigar tin in which they were kept on the screened porch railing. The hollow sound my feet made on the old wood floor when I ran across the porch to get the tin. Grandpa telling me to calm down and be patient... One time we were out there by the burrow at dusk when I was startled by a sudden noise overhead in the trees. I was scared, but he explained to me that it was a screech owl, it wasn't going to bother me, that was just its call, it was looking for mice, etc. I settled back down in my chair, absorbing my newfound owl knowledge.

Grandpa also made apple cider. There were two ancient drooping Baldwin apple trees in the yard which yielded bushel baskets of sweet and tangy fruit. He had a cider press and would sit in his trusty lawn chair out by the porch, pressing and straining. Honeybees and yellowjackets would be hovering around him in a cloud and crawling on his arms. I was alarmed at first until he once again exerted his influence over me, teaching me to be quiet and patient and enjoy nature. He told me that if I didn't swat at them and hurt them, they wouldn't hurt me; they were just looking for food, and if I held still they would just crawl around tickling me and licking up the sweet juice. He was right of course. I actually held out my hand and let a bee crawl on it. I always think of that, too, now that we are beekeepers.

I also must give some recognition to my grandmother ( on my dad's side ) for my appreciation of nature. Granny had bird feeders on her back porch, and I would stand at the window with her, watching the birds as she explained to me what each bird was. The winter wind would be making the hanging feeders sway while we were toasty warm in the kitchen with the little potbelly stove. In summer she told me stories about "Jenny Wren" as we watched house wrens darting in & out of the birdhouses on the fence posts. One summer she pointed out an oriole nest to me, hanging high in the maple tree by the driveway. Their house was out in the country surrounded by cornfields. She told me tales of wandering the fields and picking berries. It was another little paradise to me and I spent hours in those fields. One time I found a ring-necked pheasant nest and was totally smitten by the clutch of beautiful greenish-brown eggs. I took one and kept it as a souvenir. In retrospect, Granny should have made me put it back; maybe she suggested that and I resisted; I can't remember. Anyway, I saved the egg and brought it home with me. Then I took it to school for show and tell. I do remember that. How could I forget it?!  I had an old egg in a baggie in my bookbag. You can guess what happened... I proudly brought it out & plopped it on my desk, where it exploded and funked up the whole room with an awful stench. The teacher had to open the windows... luckily I was only in 3rd grade, so my embarrassment wasn't too traumatic. Served me right for egg stealing!

 I still enjoy exploring, patiently observing any creature I find, flipping over rocks in creeks to find crayfish and salamanders, and peeking into bird nests. When I was a kid I made countless collections of feathers, shells, dead bugs, rocks, bones - you name it & I had it glued to cardboard and labeled. Nowadays I take photos instead. Well, I do tend to keep interesting rocks. And bones, mostly skulls. Okay, I have a hummingbird nest too. But mostly photos.

                                                        the hummingbird nest


So I'm very grateful to Grandpa and Granny for instilling in me a wonder and curiosity for the outdoors. Their legacy has given me a lifetime of enjoyment. It also illustrates how powerful the little things can be. My grandparents didn't spend a lot of money on me, but they did spend a lot of time. Quality time teaching me things while having fun at the same time. Now, I try to pay it forward, doing the same things with my nieces and nephews and anyone else who will listen to me. Frankly, I can't help myself!

Happy Groundhog Day!

Owl Anniversary

It is 5 degrees outside this morning and I was just standing at the window, marveling at the birds around our feeder. They're all at maximum fluff in this arctic blast we're experiencing. This reminded me of an upcoming anniversary: it is almost one year ago that the chance of a lifetime presented itself to me - a chance to a see an arctic wonder, the Snowy Owl. Unless I ever manage to reach all of my bucket list goals and travel to the Yukon Territory or some other remote northern location, this was my only chance to see one of these magnificent creatures.

Snowy Owls live and breed in the far north around the Arctic Circle. Their primary food source is lemmings. Most winters, a scattering of Snowy Owls will show up in the lower 48 states; usually first year juvenile birds wandering about. Last winter there was an invasion of the owls due to a crash of the lemming population in their northern habitat. This is a natural phenomenon and it happens now & then. The owls spread to the south seeking prey. They look for terrain reminiscent of their familiar arctic habitat: open plains, airports, and treeless wide open farmlands. Sometimes the bird will stay a few days, other times it will hang out in the same spot for a month or more. Eventually, in all cases, the bird will wander off, back up north. This particular owl stayed at the same farmhouse location for about 3 weeks.
They generally cause quite a stir wherever they show up. Here is an article from our local paper regarding this particular Snowy Owl visit in March of 2012. http://triblive.com/news/1029768-74/owl-shema-snowy-owls-pennsylvania-mdash-west-bird-farm-armstrong#axzz2HILQHuht

I belong to an email listserv about birding in Pennsylvania. Often, reports of rare birds will pop up on the list. I enjoy birding, but I'm not hard core as a lot of my fellow birders are. Some folks will drop everything and drive across the state - or states - for a glimpse of a rarity. Me, not so much! But this owl was within 30 miles of our house, so that proved irresistible. Mr. Curious & I loaded up the camera & binocs and off we went. As we neared the area of the owl sighting, we were remarking how the terrain did resemble a rolling treeless arctic plain. Since it was March, the farmlands were wide open and fallow. I was worried that the owl would be off somewhere across those long fields hunting and we wouldn't see it. Then as we crested a slight rise all my doubts evaporated.

The vehicles lining the country road and parked every which way around a farmhouse! The paparazzi! The thicket of tripods and spotting scopes bristling in the yard! The people with necks straining upwards, binoculars plastered to their eyes! And there, the star of the show - on the roof perched among a sea of owl poop - The Owl!! Its eyes were closed. It sat there seemingly oblivious to the hushed craziness below. It was awesome. I can't describe it any other way. Okay, well, I can: Beautiful. Amazing. Incredible protruding talons. Soft. White. Poufy. BIG.
Here are some photos I managed to take, bracing my camera on Mr. Curious' shoulder, since I didn't have a tripod.

                                                                          Check out those talons!

                                                      Can't believe there's a killer beak in there.

                                                  The famous owl 180 degree head turn.

                                An owl pellet. Owls barf up the indigestible bones & hair of what they've eaten.


Unfortunately, the owl kept its eyes shut the entire time we were there (they have beautiful yellow eyes). But this owl was taking a siesta after its morning meal of meadow voles, according to the farmer who was the lucky host to the bird. Looking at its smooth and thick feathering - even its toes - you can see how it is superbly adapted to live on the tundra. Those feathers trap its body heat and allow it to shrug off temperatures that keep us sequestered indoors huddled in blankets. This owl species is also diurnal - meaning it is active during the day as well as in darkness. Why? Well, since it lives and breeds above the arctic circle, it needs to be flexible - the sun never sets there in summer. What a fascinating bird!
We stayed for maybe 45 minutes, taking pictures and just plain enjoying the experience of seeing it. How I wish I could have seen it open those wings and silently flap off! But that's okay, it made my day (month, year) to see it. As I always say, it doesn't take much to thrill me. Until the next rare bird alert occurs (within an hour's drive, anyway) I'll be quite content with watching the birds in our yard. Nature is so cool!



 

The early risers secret world

  **Note** I wrote the following post before the holidays, however since then my wonderful husband Mr. Curious gave me my coveted night vision scope as a Christmas gift! I decided to go ahead and leave this post as it was - I will write another dedicated to night vision adventures in the future! 

*************************************************************************

As I get older, my body seems to do its own thing, and I just try to roll with it. For instance, recently I've been waking up early for no apparent reason. By early, I'm talking 4:00 am. or so. Wide awake. Sigh. So I just go ahead and make coffee and let the dog out. When I go back outside - coffee in hand - to call the dog, I stand there gazing at the sky. If I'm lucky, the sky will be clear (this is Pennsylvania, after all, Land of Perpetual Overcast Dreariness). If the sky is in fact clear, it takes my breath away.

There's something about the pre-dawn silence and the brilliance of millions of stars that makes me shake my head in amazement. The past few mornings, several planets are prominent in the skies above. Saturn is overhead and Venus is in the east. Beautiful! To add to the spectacle, I usually see a meteor or two streak across the sky. And I sometimes hear things in the woods: strange squawks, grumblings, screeches, or yelps. There are surreptitious shuffles in the dry leaves. It's my own personal safari of darkness. Oh, how I yearn for a good pair of night vision goggles!
 
But back to the sky - star and sky-gazing isn't strictly a pre-dawn activity, unless you're weird like me (I do a lot of it at night, too). My favorite internet reference for what's up there is heavens-above.com. This site contains everything you'd want to know about what you see up there. It's easy enough - and free - to register and once you do, the site is tailored to your location, which is necessary for accurate predictions of what you'll see and where. There is a whole-sky chart, which is how I found out which planets I was seeing the other morning. There is info on where to look and when to see the International Space Station passing overhead. My favorite feature of all, though, is the section on Iridium flares. Most people are unaware of these, so this Wikipedia article should be of some help. Using the charts on heavens-above, you can get the timing and the location in the sky of the next iridium flare and easily observe it. WooHoo! Flare time - whatta blast! You will have to get familiar with a few terms, namely altitude and azimuth, but they're easy enough to understand. Besides, it's great fun to toss off nerd-isms in front of company! " Well, you gotta remember your azimuth there, Bob". Haha! As I've mentioned before, it doesn't take much to give me a thrill. But it really is a fun way to pass an evening, although ideally in warmer weather.

This morning it was about 34 degrees. However, if properly bundled up, it isn't so bad. One more fascinating star gazing pastime is to use binoculars to scan the skies. Yes, binoculars, not a telescope. For one thing, I don't own a telescope - though I surely would like one. Bundle that with those night vision goggles and there you have the ultimate gift for Curious Girl! In any case, using binoculars reveals depths upon depths of stars not visible to the naked eye. Galaxies, nebulae, open star clusters - it is truly an astounding sight. When I finish up a session of binocular-gazing, I'm mentally exhausted from mulling over all the possibilities and theories that this infinite spectacle presents to me.

A few tips to keep in mind if you want to try some stargazing: You will get a stiff neck. Laying back in a lounge chair is the most comfortable. Ambient light will mess with your night vision, so turn off the lights inside and out. And, it is of course best to have no moon in the sky. If the moon is up one night, you can time your next evening's session by remembering that the moon rises 50 minutes later every night. Thus, you know you'll have an extra 50 minutes of dark sky the next night before the moon rises and blots out all the juicy details.

 

                                            Not optimal stargazing conditions

But perhaps I should bring myself down to earth a little more and try to figure out what makes those odd noises I mentioned! I think a headlamp would be good start, until someone gifts me those night vision goggles. In the meantime, if you wake up early as I do, bundle up and get on outside for a thrilling adventure, without even leaving your porch!

Of Grandmothers & Christmas Cookies

I know we all have our treasured family Christmas cookie recipes. Some of you might have them on neatly filed recipe cards or if you're an overachiever, they might be laminated or on an iPad. Then there's the rest of us. Most of mine are scribbled on paper, creased and dog-eared, with greasy butter stains and chocolate blotches. I have one special recipe that my grandmother mailed to me - she scribbled extra instructions on the back of the envelope. It's amazing how just reading over a recipe can bring so many fond memories flooding back!

Take my Granny - she of the scribbled envelope. She was a baker extraordinaire. She made scores of different cookies, all beautifully done and delicious. My favorite was the recipe that came in the envelope: her paper-thin sugar cookies, cut out with her large collection of cookie cutters. On some of them she would place tiny silver dragees as decoration. Those cookies were almost as thin as parchment paper. I am not exaggerating. How she rolled them that thin and cut them out so precisely I'll never know. Okay, I lied - I do know. She told me how: by keeping everything chilled and being patient when rolling & cutting - but I cannot recreate her magic. I tried it, but I gave up on it after one session with paper thin gooey dough ripping in pieces and sticking to everything but where it was supposed to stick. I kept the dough chilled, I swear! I didn't want to waste all that dough, so I baked them anyway. The resulting cookies were an assortment of strange distorted blobs, pitiful half-stars, decapitated snowmen, reindeer torsos, and so on... Sigh.
 
 Granny was vigilant and quite rigid with her 'cookie rules'. No grabbing any from the kitchen stash ( where some were always kept year-round) without asking. Not more than ONE cookie at a time. NO picking out raisins - that was cookie defacement. If you didn't like raisins ( I didn't and I still don't ) then too bad. You choked 'em down or you didn't have the cookie. NEVER any cookie before lunch or dinner. And then there was her cookie storage method. All the cookies were packed in tins and stacked in the unheated spare bedroom upstairs. Woe to the kid who tried to sneak up there for a pre-Christmas taste!
One time I committed the Ultimate Cookie Offense: I snuck upstairs to the forbidden room. I had an excuse; it was my aunt's idea. Can you blame a 10 year old? How could I resist my aunt's tempting whispers of this illicit adventure? It was a thrilling experience. We creaked the door open, my eyes like saucers at the sight of all those colorful cookie tins. It was cold in there. I grabbed some random cookies (but none with raisins - I was in a hurry but I could spot raisins in a flash from years of expertly avoiding them), gobbled them down, and then we snuck back down before we were busted. And amazingly, we got away with it. I think Granny was busy cooking dinner or something, the clanking of pans drowning out the sounds of our footsteps up & down the squeaky old staircase. I can't remember if I ever told her that story; I tend to think I kept it secret all those long years since. For all that and despite her strict cookie protocols, Granny was a wonderful, loving grandmother, and even if I can't make her cookies, I can hold that old envelope and smile.

 

 

 

                          Some of my grandmothers vintage cookie tins

Then there was Gramma. My copies of her recipes are scribbled on paper, as I copied them from the originals. They're well worn and stained. There are two of them: Sand Tarts and Gramma's Chocolate Cookies. Her cookies were always so small, neat and uniform that they're legendary in our family. She tended towards drop cookies, rather than cut-outs. But she had an uncanny knack for making each spooned-off drop or rolled dough ball exactly the same size. And small. They almost looked machine made. Every year, I put on my holiday music playlist and bake those cookies. I make a heroic effort to recreate Gramma's tidy little circles. Most of the time, my version comes out over sized, lumpy, and uneven. I redouble my efforts on the next batch, going ever so sloowly and carefully. I have been successful some of the time and when I am, I phone my mother to triumphantly announce "I DID IT!!" Then we laugh and reminisce about Gramma and her quiet, patient baking. Sometimes as I'm baking the cookies and singing Christmas songs, I actually get all choked up. But that's a good thing, right? It's a testament to the close and loving relationship I had with my grandmothers. When I see my tins full of neat little circular cookies - just like Gramma's! - I smile. Cookies and memories - a few more of my favorite little things in life!

So here's the recipe for my Gramma's Sand Tarts. They're a crispy little butter cookie. The thinner they are, the better - for maximum crispiness.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
 

Sand Tarts

(makes 4-5 doz.)

2 C sifted flour
½ C butter, softened to room temperature
1 ½ tsp baking powder
1 C Sugar
1 egg, well beaten

Topping ingredients:

1 TBSP sugar
¼ tsp cinnamon

Sift flour once & measure again. Add baking powder & sift again. Add to mixer bowl. Add sugar gradually. Cream together until light & fluffy. Add egg & flour, blend. Turn out of bowl, wrap, and chill thoroughly in refrigerator. (you can freeze the dough at this point if you want to bake later on)

 Once chilled, roll into small uniform balls (maybe the size of a large grape). Lay balls on parchment-lined baking sheet. Flatten balls using a piece of parchment under a juice glass to press. The dough will stick, hence the parchment paper under the juice glass. I press down the glass and then twist it back & forth. It helps to keep the dough chilled.

Bake at 375 degrees for 7-8 minutes or until golden.

Sprinkle on topping while hot.

 

Merry Christmas!

Favorite Things: Christmas Edition

 
It doesn't take much to please me. I get so many little thrills from Christmas and its traditions! I get a huge kick out of opening those storage boxes and pulling out my holiday decor. Some things are old, some are newer, but they all bring a grin to my face. One of these is a large jingle bell. I tied a red ribbon onto it to turn it into the sleigh bell from the film "The Polar Express". The movie rings true (no pun intended) for me, as a kid who desperately wanted to keep believing in Santa Claus, even as all the evidence pointed against such a thing. Here's a short clip from the movie: The sleigh bell from the Polar Express .  I love that movie! It's precisely how I always imagined a North Pole visit should be. I mean, c'mon - a hot chocolate-filled train pulls up at your house?? I don't care if the conductor is kind of creepy - count me in!  So I like having the bell sitting there as a reminder to think like a kid and not be too serious.

 



I like to think that I can STILL hear it ring!

Then there are my bottle brush animals. They're another newer addition to my holiday decor. I just love 'em! The photo doesn't quite capture their glittery coating - but they do sparkle in the sunshine. They have a slight problem with proportion; that is one gargantuan owl. Although, now that I think about it, wouldn't it be cool if there were owls the size of bears? Hmm... then again, maybe not. The nighttime hooting alone would destroy life as we know it! But then, if the owl was in proportion to the other two animals, it would be a ridiculous thimble-sized thing sitting there... Anyway, every time I walk past their display I smile. The little things, you know!

 

 The sparkly menagerie

I also have a Christmas village of sorts. It's rather lame as such things go, but I like it. It is a conglomeration of some newer things and some really old things. I got a few of the bottle brush trees from my aunt, a few more from my mother, and the rest at yard sales. Some were in my grandparents under-tree display - a few of those are plastic and chalkware. I have an old dime bank in the shape of a house and a tiny horse-drawn wagon that is a true antique. My grandmother gave that to me and told me it was her aunt's. On the other side of my tableau are two Steiff hedgehogs lurking among the trees. Like the bottle brush animals above, they are way out of proportion to the rest of the scenery. I like to say that they are the monster hedgehogs emerging from the deep forest to raid the village. Then, in the middle, are the remains of a fort that my nephew carefully made and gave me as a Christmas gift a few years back. It was quite impressive when new but has since fallen apart, so until I get around to re-gluing it, it's set up in a ramshackle fashion: a rickety stockade fence and 3 tiny cabins. I've dubbed it Fort Decrepit. It seems doubtful that this fortification will be able to hold off the onslaught of the giant mutant hedgehogs - maybe the huge invisible army that's hidden behind the fence will rout the beasts. This little scene cracks me up - in fact I often let out an amused "HAH!" when I look at it.

The whole tableau - Fort Decrepit is in the center

   The tiny village.
The little wagon driver is frantically waving to warn the village of....

   The giant mutant hedgehogs on the prowl!

I'm sure a lot of us have Christmas memories of train sets under the tree. We had that, too - at first it was actually under the tree, but as my dad added on to his train set-up, he built a large L-shaped platform for the display. At that point, the whole thing had to be moved to the basement playroom. My brother now has my dad's trains and sets them up during the holidays, so although I don't actually have the trains here at my house, I still get to enjoy them & decided to include them here. I suppose it wouldn't be surprising to anyone that knows me that it's not so much the trains that amuse me, but the props and scenery. My favorite part of the display is the box full of plastic people labeled "Citizens". I mean, what do you call a box of plastic people anyway? They aren't plastic army men or dinosaurs; they're random people - a milkman, a mailman, gentlemen with suits and hats, ladies with shopping bags, a paper boy... you could call them 'townspeople' I suppose. But really, 'citizens' does describe them the best. It's too funny. It might as well be labeled 'Acme Citizens'.
 We used to place them in ludicrous spots on the display, causing our easily perturbed dad to yell at us - "Get those damn people off of there they're going to fall on the tracks and derail the train do you know how much that train cost all right that's IT you are forbidden to touch ANYthing!!" Ha! The citizens are still around ( Dad's still around, too, but now he has no say in the train operations; he can only watch and shake his head in dismay) and they still get messed around with. You have no idea how much mileage we can get out of a hobo camp... Ah, good times!


Of course, my Christmas decorations aren't all just sources of amusement from my overactive imagination. There are plenty of sentimental things, vintage things from my grandparents that practically shout "Granny's house!!", things that family and friends have given me, things that just sit there looking pretty - just the small things that make me smile. Isn't that what it's all about anyway? :)