All posts by verily sherrilee

Directionally challenged, crafty, reading mother of young adult
Food, The Baboon Congress

Pumpkin Wasteland

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Today’s post comes from Verily Sherrilee.

I’m not crazy about pumpkin.

My earliest career was in the bakery industry. I took several classes and then got my first job as a cake decorated at Shorewood Village Bakery in Milwaukee. It was a large bakery, as bakeries go, but there were times when I had to pitch in and help with other jobs in addition to making icing roses and piping out “Happy Anniversary Gramma and Gramps”.

One of those jobs was pumpkin pies. Beginning about a week before Thanksgiving and going until the New Year, we cranked out hundreds of pumpkin pies each week. In order to save time, the pies were filled while they were IN the oven, a big reel oven with rotating shelves. Each shelf held 24 pie crusts, par-baked for about 15 minutes.PumpkinPie1 Then one by one, we would stop the shelves and pour the pumpkin mixture into each shell. This took about 15 minutes per shelf. The fun part is that if you keep your arms in a very hot oven for 15 minutes times 5 shelves, you burn your arms off. So when it was your turn, you had to wrap bakery towels around your arms, secure them with bakery twine and then another employee would pour cold water over the towels. After you were about half way done with a full rotation, you’d get another douse of cold water. We took turns, so you usually only had to do this once a day, but it was every day from mid-November to January, including Sundays. Actually on Sundays the only baking that happened was pies, so you sometimes had to pour twice.

I’m sure it doesn’t surprise anybody that I don’t eat pumpkin pie. In fact, because the smell catapults me right back to those bakery days, I don’t really like anything with pumpkin in it. (I do make an exception for Breadsmith’s Pumpkin Muffins w/ Walnuts, but that’s about it.)

So this time of year is particularly hard for me. Everything has pumpkin in it. EVERYTHING. I follow several food blogs and nobody has made a thing for a few weeks now that doesn’t feature pumpkin. My coffee place has pumpkin lattes and pumpkin scones. My bagel place has pumpkin bagels. I’m sure if I could remember my dreams, they would be pumpkin dreams. I figure I have a good four weeks before we’re safely out of pumpkin season until next year. I can’t wait.

Mind you, I don’t have a problem with the other members of the squash family – just pumpkin.

What food has been spoiled for you?

The Baboon Congress

The Egg Table

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Today’s post comes from Verily Sherrilee

Most everyone I know understands what it means when I say “the egg table is up”.

I do Ukrainian eggs (no I’m not Ukrainian); I make ornaments for Solstice every year – it is my main gift. This year there were 36 to make – all the same design.  In addition, the last few years I have been replacing all my baby sister’s eggs that were destroyed 3 years by a nasty mouse invasion at her house; this year I’m doing the last six.  I also usually make 4-5 extra eggs as cushion, since making ornaments out of eggs can be a little dicey. This year’s design was a bit intricate so each egg averaged about an hour to do.  Since this is so much time and I do need access to the kitchen fairly frequently, I do this downstairs in the living room.  At the egg table.

The egg table is just the card table from the front porch, but it has to be set up just the way I like it: plastic tablecloth, desk lamp, electric kiskas plugged in my left hand side, candle, wax and non-electric kiskas in front of me, jars of dye in a semi-circle behind them, eggs to my right. Assorted paper towels, pencils, kraft knives, plastic spoons and other accouterments behind the dyes.

Once the table is set up the way I like, I can’t wait to take it down again – my main goal is to get done and get it all put away until next year. This means that I’m fairly fanatical about my time at the table; all spare minutes are at the table. I usually have the tv on or a book on cd and I tend to eat at the table as well. On most of the days the table is up, I drag into work because I haven’t gone to bed on time and my fingers are stained with dye because I don’t want to spend too much time scrubbing when they’ll just get stained again the next day. Once all the eggs are finished with their layers of wax and dye, I melt the dye off, varnish them, blow out the innards and then affix the ornament holder to the top. Since melting the wax off is actually the most dangerous (to the eggs, not to me) part of the process, I leave the table up until that step is done.  I’ve had it happen more than once that I’ve broken enough during the de-waxing that I’ve had to make a couple more!

This year the table was up a few more days than usual – lots of things going on (hosta digging, choir rehearsals I couldn’t miss, kitty sitting for a friend). But even though I can’t wait to be done and pack up all my supplies, I also miss it a little when I’m finished. I enjoy the relaxation that comes from sitting with a craft and not really focusing on anything else for a while, as well as having a beautiful gift to give for the holidays.  I have already started thinking about next year’s design!

The Baboon Congress

Baboon Redux – Fawn Doe Rosa

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Today’s post by Sherrilee was first published in 2010.

Most of my growing up years were spent in a big city in the Midwest, where the wildlife consisted mostly of squirrels and sparrows. So it was a big deal when we vacationed every summer in the northern part of Wisconsin at the family homestead. We saw deer from the car windows and even the occasional black bear at the town dump. When I was seven, an animal park opened up in St. Croix Falls, which was along the route my family always drove to get to Wisconsin.

Fawn Doe Rosa was (and still is) a place where you can feed and pet a variety of animals, from deer to ponies to geese and ducks. Always looking for a way to break up the long drive to and from up north, I’m sure my parents were delighted to find anything to get us girls out of the car and out of their hair for awhile.

That first year, when I was seven, my sister and I wandered all over the park. Except for dogs and cats, I had never had any interaction with an animal before and was a little leery of the deer, some of whom were bigger than I was. So I opted for the smaller and safer geese and ducks that abounded at the park. At one point, as I was feeding some geese along the little pond, a young elk spotted me.

A Stealthy Approach

Clearly understanding that I was the repository of food, he headed right for me, although I didn’t notice him, so intent was I on my task. My father, who was capturing our day with the camera, snapped a shot as the elk approached me, but didn’t feel the need to warn me. Of course, even though the elk was quite small (as elk go), he did scare me out of my wits and I stepped into the pond and got my feet wet.

It took my mother several minutes to get me to approach the poor elk, who was probably as scared by my antics as I was by his, but was willing to forgive me for my outburst, since I still had food. Within a little bit, I was petting him and feeding him, like he was no more different than the family dog.

Friends for Life

I think about this day often, as the teenager and I still visit Fawn Doe Rosa at least once a summer. What would have been a scarring experience that scared me off animals for a lifetime, turned out to be the beginning of a lifelong love of creatures great and small. We trek out to our two zoos here several times a year, love the Wolf Center in Ely, visit any animal park we find along the way and I believe my love of animals may have rubbed off; the teenager has expressed an interest for a career with animals, although it’s still a little too early to tell.

What memorable childhood experience was captured on film? 

The Baboon Congress

The Handy Apple

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Today’s post comes from Sherrilee

Two weeks ago I received a box from Centerpoint Energy with a couple of new shower heads. It took me a little bit to remember that they had been offered to me several months ago as an energy-saving strategy. Being free, I jumped at the offer but then promptly forgot about it until the box showed up.

I’m fairly handy and all self-taught. I’ve sanded a wood floor, replaced a sash window, changed out electrical outlets and even installed new faucets in the bathroom. I do know my limits – no serious plumbing, no building of anything, no anything that requires I get farther than 5-6 feet off the ground.

So when I got the new shower heads, I thought “I can do this”.  Then I thought about having to find the right wrench, the plumber’s tape and most importantly, the time!  I shoved the box to the back of the counter, figuring I might get to it over the weekend or the next.

ShowerHead1

Last night when I got home and was feeding all the beasts, out of the corner of my eye I noticed the crescent wrench sitting on the counter.  And one of the shower heads was gone from the box.  I wandered upstairs and saw that the new shower head was installed in the shower, complete with new plumbing tape. Since I was pretty sure that nobody broke into the house to change my shower head, the only solution was that Young Adult had done the installation.  Here is our conversation when she got home:

YA: Did you see that I put on the new shower head?

VS:  Yep.  Why did you do it?

YA:  Because you weren’t getting around to it.

VS: How did you know which wrench to use?

YA: I don’t know – I just chose a wrench.

VS: How did you know to use the plumbing tape?

YA:  I don’t know – I just used it.

VS:  How did you know where the tape was kept?

YA: (Now rolling her eyes).  It’s in the bathroom drawer; I see it every time I open it.

I guess maybe she has been paying attention all these years.  If you had asked me yesterday I would have said she didn’t even know where the wrenches were or that she even knew that plumbing tape existed. Guess the apple didn’t fall that far from the tree after all!

What skill/talent would you like to pass down?

The Baboon Congress

Knock Knock Joke

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Today’s post comes from Sherrilee

We have dog issues at our house.

The first issue is that my dog isn’t all that well-trained, but she usually doesn’t bug me, so I have let things slide. The second issue that that Young Adult’s dog isn’t even CLOSE to well-trained. And the third issue is that when our big dog Thorin passed away this summer, we realized that he had been the buffer between the other two dogs. We discovered this the hard way last month when they fought over food, I slipped in the melee and got very badly bitten (there were 3 of us there and none of us can even  say which dog bit me).

So we bit the bullet and had a dog trainer/behaviorist out last week and now we have doggie homework. One of the things I wanted to tackle was the fracas made when people come over: the jumping and the barking. But it’s hard to train at the front door by yourself. You really need at least one other person to stand outside and ring the doorbell or knock. During the week, Young Adult and I are like trains passing in the night so yesterday I decided that I would work on the froDogDoorbell2nt door training by myself. I downloaded a doorbell app (yes, there are such things) onto my phone, selected the tone that sounded most like our doorbell, put some painter’s tape down on the floor near the door and called the dogs.

 

I hit the doorbell app; the lovely tones peeled out a la Big Ben. The dogs stood and looked at me. I hit the app again. And again. And again. Nothing.   I went outside and pushed the regular doorbell and they went wild.    DogDoorbell3

Trying not to be outdone, then I downloaded a “knocking on wood” app. It was very realistic sounding. The canines didn’t bat an eye, although they erupted when I went onto the porch and knocked with my knuckles. As I retreated to the sofa, I realized that while they’re not rocket scientists, my dogs are smart enough to tell the real doorbell from the app on my phone.

What’s really sad is that I’m not sure I’M smart enough for that!

When have YOU been fooled?

The Baboon Congress

Cleaning for Nonny

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Today’s post comes from Sherrilee.

Nonny is coming on Monday. Those of you who know me, know that I have “a list”. And it’s a long list; I did it on the computer, complete with pictures of Nonny across the top, three columns and a multi-colored font (fall colors, since those are Nonny’s favorites). It’s gone onto a second page at this point.

Of course my list has a title… “Cleaning for Nonny”, since much of the list has to do with cleaning. Nonny says she doesn’t care if my house is clean or not and I believe her; my sister has a house that could make the cut for one of those hoarding shows and Nonny still goes over there. But I let things go during the winter due to how busy I am at work and then I kept letting things go as we got to spring and summer, since my energies tend to go to the yard. I just can’t stand to have her see it quite this messy.

I started to rename my list a couple of times because for some reason “Cleaning for Nonny” keeps reminding me of Bowling for Columbine; ultimately I left the title be. I haven’t even printed this list since it is quite long, but I am highlighting the finished items each night before I go to bed. I don’t really need to worry that I’ve named my list, right? Nobody on the planet even knows that I have a list, or that I’ve named the list – except you guys. You won’t tell will you?

Do you make lists? Do you give them titles?

The Baboon Congress

Tomato-zilla

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Today’s guest post comes from Sherrilee

As some of you may know I am a straw bale gardener. I got interested in straw bales after I had determined that I really wanted to grow tomatoes on my own every summer – after someone on the Trail recommended the expose Tomatoland by Barry Estabrook.

I’ve had varying results over the last few years but this summer the tomatoes are doing quite well and have taken over the corner of my yard that is dedicated to my bales. I’m harvesting enough that the occasional tomato that I’m losing to the squirrels is not driving me too crazy and I’m starting to think about ways to preserve them since they are coming off the vines faster than we can eat them.

Yesterday I pulled a whooper off the vine – I’m calling it Tomato-zilla. Unfortunately I don’t know what kind of tomato it is because I didn’t write down what kind of plants I planted and the little stakes have all gone missing.

But here are a couple of dishes we’ve made recently. These are Verily Sherrilee creations, not out of a cookbook, using what was on hand!

Tomato Corn Bean Salad

4 ears of corn from the farmer’s market, kernels cut from cobs

1 can of black beans, rinsed

20 cherry tomatoes, cut in half (we actually have Santa tomatoes in our garden, which are shaped like little tears)

Handful of basil, chopped (basil also from our garden)

About ½ tsp cumin

Salt / pepper

  • Mix all the items together.  You can add more cumin (or less) to taste.

Roasted Tomato Pasta

4 large leeks from farmer’s market, chopped

1 large clove of garlic, chopped or minced (depends on how you like it)

Handful of basil, chopped

3-4 T. olive oil

4-5 tomatoes, chopped

Olives, pitted & chopped (this is optional)

Cooked pasta of your choice (I used spaghetti)

Parmesan cheese (also optional)

  • Sauté the leeks, garlic and basil until the oil is absorbed.  Then add tomatoes and let them roast a bit.  Add cooked pasta and stir.  If you’re going w/ olives and parmesan, you can add them at this point or put them on the table and let folks add themselves to their own dish!

Do you have a favorite summer recipe?

The Baboon Congress, Travel

Rafting!

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Today’s guest post comes from Sherrilee.

My daughter is a traditionalist. She wouldn’t admit to this of course, but just ask her what she wants to do on vacation and that will tell the whole story. You’ll end up with the same vacation you took last year. And the year before.

Raft2

So it didn’t surprise me that when we settled on Colorado as our vacation destination this summer, she wanted the same trip we took 3 years ago. I got the big glossy state tourism booklet in the mail and I asked her more than once what she wanted to do, but I’m not sure she looked at it. Same campground on the way out, same campground in Larkspur (south of Denver) and same activities on her list (Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado Springs, Aquarium in Denver and the Wildlife Sanctuary in Keenesburg).

Generally I’m OK with this, but after a rocky start to our trip (bad news from home on our second morning), I was just itching to make the trip a little different. After flipping through some of the pages of our glossy book, I asked Young Adult if she wanted to go rafting. You’d think that most young folks would jump at the chance to do something new and exciting. Nope. I had to talk her into it!

Raft3
That little hole-in-the-wall post-rafting pizza place

It was a slightly overcast morning, which turned out to be perfect – not too warm. We had wetsuits and helmets and “flotation devices” (they don’t say “life preservers” anymore), lessons in how to lean and lectures on what happens if you end up in the water. We both stayed in the raft, although not all our raft mates were that lucky and didn’t end up too sore from paddling. Then we had lunch at a little hole-in-the-wall pizza place up the street.

Since Young Adult hadn’t been super-enthusiastic prior to the rafting to begin with, I was happy to hear her say that the trip could have been a little longer. Of course this means that now rafting will be part of the tradition and any vacations to Colorado in the future will have to include it!

What do you like to do on vacation?

The Baboon Congress

Sanctuary

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Today’s guest post comes from Sherrilee.

My child is an animal lover. When we came home from China I was a little worried about her reaction to the two big dogs I had at the time. Didn’t need to worry about that. In fact, it was my Irish Setter who seemed to think that my bringing home an infant wasn’t the best thing I’d ever done.

From an early age, we did lots of activities that involved animals. We became zoo members at the new zoo, visited Como as well. She’s petted snakes at the Science Museum and sting rays at the State Fair. Vacations usually have animal components as well. Zoos in St. Louis, Indianapolis, Colorado Springs, Chicago. Grant’s Farm, Wilderness Walk, Fawn Doe Rosa, International Wolf Center – if there are animals there, she wants to go.

Sanctuary2

It didn’t surprise me three years ago when we visited colleges in Colorado that she wanted to visit the Wildlife Sanctuary outside of Denver. I’m not even sure how she KNEW there was such a place, but off we went one afternoon after a morning campus visit.

The Wildlife Sanctuary was started 1980 and is home to rescued “exotic” animals: tigers, bears, mountain lions, wolves, African lions and many others. Most of the animals were rescued from abusive situations and some of the animals started as “pets” that quickly became too large and too uncontrollable. It is an Sanctuary1amazing facility, run by staff who clearly care deeply about the plight of these animals. There is a mile long overhead walkway so that visitors can see into the various habitats as well as an education center with various videos playing that document some of the animal rescues and the ongoing mission of the place. We spent hours there, we’ve donated ever since and get their newsletter every quarter.

Sanctuary3

So it also didn’t surprise me that when we decided on Colorado again this year for vacation that Young Adult wanted to go BACK to the animal sanctuary. The sanctuary has grown a little but is still taking great care of the animals that have been fortunate enough to find a home there. Again we spent hours there.

Where do YOU find sanctuary?

Poems, The Baboon Congress

Century House

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Today’s guest post comes from Verily Sherrilee

My house is 100 years old this year. When I purchased it, it was a ways off from the big 1-0-0 and I didn’t think too much about the age, but now that we’re at the century mark, it occurs to me that this is a remarkable number. If the house were a person, a birthday card from Obama would be showing up this year.

I never learned any house-handy maintenance tricks when I was growing up. My mother was a great gardener and both my parents were terrific at remodeling rooms, steaming off wall paper and hanging new. But other than that, neither of them was all that handy. Of course we moved around A LOT when I was growing up so may we weren’t in a house long enough for anything to go wrong.

100House3

So I’ve had to learn my own maintenance skills. Luckily I live near a GREAT hardware store with great staff who are very patient with my questions; they didn’t even laugh when it took me FOUR trips one weekend to finally finish the great woodwork mitering project before Baby came. These days the internet helps as well; I was able to figure out how to change the insides of my kitchen faucet by looking it up on YouTube! Among other things over the years I’ve 100House2replaced sash windows, changed out electrical switches, redone the baseboard woodwork, cemented a gap between the house and steps and, of course, put in many new toilet flush valves and flappers. It’s always something around an old house.

So this poem really resonated with me when I ran across it.

Handyman

The morning brought such a lashing rain

I decided I might as well stay inside

And tackle those jobs that had multiplied

Like an old man’s minor aches and pains.

I found a screw for the strikerplate,

Tightened the handle on the bathroom door,

Cleared the drain in the basement floor,

And straightened the hinge for the backyard gate.

Each task had been a nagging distraction,

An itch in the mind, a dangling thread;

Knocking a tiny brass brad on the head,

I felt an insane sense of satisfaction.

Then I heard a great crash in the yard.

The maple had fallen and smashed our car.

“Handyman” by Barton Sutter from Farewell to the Starlight in Whiskey. © BOA Editions, 2004.

Do you have a maintenance skill you’re proud of?