Sugar Makes The World Go 'Round

Ever feel like you're moving at warp speed?  I work with a woman who moves like that......constantly!  I don't even need to look up from my desk to see who's coming. If I hesitate looking up, she's gone!  Ever wonder what makes them tick?  Caffeine?  It could be.  I used to think that enough caffeine could keep me going.  When I was younger, a coffee drink in the evening would pretty much guarantee a restless night.  Over the years, however, I've become an espresso affection-ado and 6-8 shots of the thick, rich stuff does nothing to effect my sleep.   On the other hand, give me a piece of chocolate or something laden with sugar and I'll toss and turn all night!

Ah, sugar!  That sweet wonderful stuff! This time of the year I'm wallowing in it, up to my neck in it, rolling in it......get the picture?  I'm already sick of it and the holidays are barely getting started.  But allow me to digress a bit.  My pantry boasts two 25 pound sacks of the white granulated stuff and I'm hoping that'll be enough.  It's fudge season!  When I was a child, my mother stumbled upon a recipe that was touted to be the recipe for See's fudge.  We made a five pound batch for Thanksgiving and that had to last a family of five for the holiday season.  Let's see, a pound a piece for 2 months, maybe more if you had to wait until Easter when you were assured that the Easter bunny would bring a fudge egg from See's Candies.  Needless to say, it was a scramble to get your share.

For me, I take that recipe, which is over 50 years old now, and put it to good use.  I spend my "free" time standing over a pot of bubbling milk and sugar, almost like a witch at her cauldron, stirring it up at the stove until it's just the right temperature to blend with the chocolate, butter and marshmallow cream to transform into the most delightfully delicious fudge ever!  It used to be when my daughters were home, this was a popular time to be around the kitchen.  The privilege of licking the bowl and the beaters had to be divied up.  Now, it's just me and if I had to sample every batch it'd put me into a diabetic coma!  I had to laugh recently when I posted on my facebook page that I was making my first batch of fudge.  I lamented that my daughters weren't around to help "clean up" the bowl.  Now, mind you, I post things all the time and rarely get a response, but all three of them responded to this one!

So, the production is well under way.  By the end of the 'season', I'll probably have made somewhere between 75-100 pounds.  Some gets sold at the Highland Hills Elementary school bazaar in November, some is sold by special order, and some is given (as demanded) by my friends who will not let a year go by without their annual "fudge fix".

A year or so ago I must have decided that making fudge wasn't enough work.  I just couldn't bear to throw the marshmallow cream jars away.  They were re-recyclable, but where I live, recycling is no easy task!  I stumbled across a way to use them for something totally unrelated to fudge, but - you guessed it - more sugar.  I started producing a Lavender-Rosemary Sugar Scrub for the bath and shower.  It was another instant success.  Again, more friends I had gifted it to are clamoring for refills.  On a positive note:  I definitely have my Christmas shopping done ~ fudge for the men, sugar scrub for the ladies (oh and fudge for the ladies, too!)

So if you see me later this season, blurry eyed, incoherent from lack of sleep but wired and moving at the speed of light, it'll only be because I've not only ingested a load of sugar from doing the "quality control" sampling of every batch of fudge, I've also been using the sugar scrub and have it oozing both into and out of my pores!

Never Underestimate

When I moved to my small town nearly 8 years ago, I must confess, I felt like I was moving to outer Mongolia.  Having grown up in Southern California, lived in San Francisco, then Portland, Oregon, the idea of living in a town of 18,000 didn't sound very exciting.  But, the traffic in Portland was getting crazy as was the cost of living.  At the core of the issue was the public schooling which left much to be desired.  So, we packed up the last daughter, who was entering high school, and moved to eastern Oregon.

My friends pitied me.  I mean, who wouldn't?  There was nothing in this town!  The nicest restaurant was a Shari's.  The closest mall was a 40 minute drive and Costco, well, let's say you definitely had to plan your trips. But that wasn't even the worst of it.  Little by little I began to recognize the tiny snips of snobbery that would pop up over the 'big city' and all it had to offer versus the 'small town' and all its limitations.  I actually caught myself apologizing for the place I lived, making excuses for its, well, smallness!

I felt a little guilty about my attitude.  I mean, shouldn't I have a sense of pride about where I live?  Probably.  I actually wrote a blog about "You know You Live in a Small Town When...." which brought a touch of humor to the topic, siting all sorts of things like drive through animal feed stations and traffic jams brought on by goats in the road.  It helped......a little.  What didn't help was the fact that I'd moved from the lush, green side of the state to the dry, barren side of the state where everything has to be irrigated in order to grow.  Brown was just not my color.  I missed all those gorgeous trees!  But somewhere during all those times driving back and forth to Portland through the gorge to visit friends I came to appreciate the beauty in the browns.  I caught myself commenting to a friend the other day how I choose my interior home colors from the pallet of muted browns and greens that line the highways where I live.  Imagine that?  When I go to Portland, I actually look forward to returning home.  Wow.  When did that happen?  I guess the green got to be overwhelming.  Obviously I've adjusted to the landscape.

But I've learned a few other things about small places and the people who live there:  Never, never assume they are ignorant, backwards or behind the times.  I can actually puff myself up now and crow about my town.  We are in the forefront of some important advances.  I thought it was rather impressive a few years ago when my daughter, an IT person (from Portland, no less) told me about an article she'd read about the largest WiFi cloud in the world.  Guess where it is?  Yep....right here in my town.  So farmer John, who some people may think is beneath them, can sit in his field, open his laptop, control his irrigation system, or even take a picture of his crops and send it to one of his customers.  My police department is ahead of the game as well with laptops in their cars where they can file reports.

You can imagine my surprise also when a week ago I learned of another area where we are ahead of the game.  I had to have fingerprints for a background check.  The list of approved agencies from the capital city was extensive, but there was nothing listed that was close to where I live.  I  called Salem and asked if it was alright for me to go to my local police department to be printed and was reluctantly told, yes.  I was a bit apprehensive about the whole thing since my new job depended on getting these prints done and processed in a timely manner.  I couldn't afford anything to go wrong and I was concerned that I wasn't going to one of their "approved" agencies that had the LiveScan machines.  I showed up for my appointment at the police department and was ushered into the room with the "machine".  Oh my goodness!  it was none other than a LiveScan!  I told my story to the officer about them 'not making the cut' on the list of approved agencies and he just laughed.  Apparently, my police department was the first one in the country to have this machine!  In fact, when Salem was determining whether or not to purchase one, they called here to ask their opinion.  Go figure!  But they didn't want to include them on the list of approved agencies.  A touch of snobbery there?  Possibly.

Do I still live in a small town?  Well, yes I do.  But it's a great little place live.  It still does take close to 40 minutes to drive to the mall, but I've learned to plan my trips to include Costco, the pet store and anything else in the general vicinity, even the possibility of dinner.  Is Shari's the best restaurant in town?  Not any more!  We have a great local place and more places opening up all the time.  We have awesome community events where I actually know the people in them and people take pride in them.  The high school football games are very well attended.  Church parking lots are full on Sundays, and other times during the week as well.  Community involvement is appreciated and encouraged.  The grocery store can be a social gathering place.  And we all seem to share the same sense of pride in this great little town we are building.  Are there still goats blocking traffic?  I wouldn't know.  I moved to a different neighborhood.

Ready For The Change

I awoke this morning to the first real signs of Fall.  Oh, sure, there have been all too brief glimpses of it here and there ~ a cool evening, an even cooler brisk morning.  But this morning was different.  My view out over the river was of overcast skies, of gray waters blending into the gray of the cloudy skies.  Ah!  Fall! 

It has become my morning ritual to brew my double shot Americano,  scoot the dogs out the back door and greet the day. The deck overlooks an expanse of green lawn that slopes down, connecting with sage, river rock, and eventually the mighty Columbia River.  On mornings of late, the quiet has been interrupted by the slap of a fish on the water's surface as they feed on the insects that are swarming just above the surface.  Or perhaps, it's the call of a gull as they circle over head.  On my most fortunate mornings, these calming sounds are not broken by the dogs barking at some random noise and I have the luxury of easing into the day.  Quite the life!

But this morning was especially wonderful with the obvious approach of Fall.  Those who live here will say that summer was forever in arriving!  Spring rains and cooler temperatures lingered for months, it seemed.  It felt like it was mid-July before we had decent weather.  But summer heat arrived finally with a vengeance with the blistering temperatures, perfect for outdoor meals and water adventures.  I'm the first to admit that I love the summer meals and dining alfresco.  But, you know, all good things become dull after a while.  Those summer days drone on and on until - for me anyway - I'm ready for a change.  I look forward to the briskness of the mornings.  The sounds of the geese as they dot the skies heading for the corn fields to glean the pickings before they begin their trek for the winter months.  Sweaters!  Bundling up in the warmth, feeling soft and snug
(and actually being able to hide those extra pounds rather than have them out there for public notice in a tank top!) 

The savory smells of soups and stews coming from the kitchen and permeating throughout the house is another favorite one of my favorite signs of fall.  And who can resist a crackling fire, or watching a movie while the wind and rain carries on outside the window? 

I'm hoping this morning was not just another one of those "false alarms" for fall.  I mean, I don't want to break out the winter clothes and then end up in shorts and flip flops again.  I want to really go for it and commit to the warmer clothes.  For now.  Yes, absolutely for now.  But come January I'll be complaining about the cold and praying for warmer weather.  You know, just that break in the clouds and the temperatures in the 70's, right?  Perhaps I need to write myself a note and put it in my calendar somewhere in January, or maybe February to remind myself of how anxious I was this day for the cold.  Right about the time I'm facing my third head cold and replacing my windshield wipers - again!