The story of the Three Bears

Making my Christmas cakes today, I started with the blue silicone spatula.  It was great for scraping down the sides of the bowl, but somehow, it was way too bendy to do any mixing.

So I took out the bright orange plastic spoon from the drawer.  It was stronger and that nifty little hook on the side meant that it didn’t fall into the mixture when I stopped stirring to add a bit more beaten egg.  But it was too big and too awkward to do any serious mixing.

It was time to get out the old favourite; the wooden spoon with a long handle.  It was strong enough to do the mixing, the handle didn’t fall into the bowl and it was just the right spoon for the job.

In no time at all, the cakes were in the oven, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma of Christmas baking.

Four hours later, the three cakes were ready to take out and are now cooling.  I must get them wrapped and ready for when Goldilocks comes to visit

At home

December has a habit of creeping up on me, which is mostly my own fault for skipping off and forgetting about real life for a while in late November.

We came home to find the first card on the mat from our sweet friend Sandy in Tasmania, who is so organised, she probably wrote her cards in July or something.  Seeing it was a very cool reminder that really, I need to get a bit of a jingle on!

But a house with no food isn’t a home, is it?  And it’s impossible to make a Christmas cake without the ingredients.  So, first thing on Thursday I went shopping. 

Thursday afternoon, I made a start and measured out the fruit to soak in the rum.  So far it’s drunk half a bottle!

Then there were other errands to run, prescriptions to collect and Advent Calendars to post.  Whilst I was in the post office queue, I thought I’d buy the Christmas stamps too and felt good about remembering to get them whilst there were still some of the special designs left.  But I wonder why the Royal Mail decided not to issue a Christmas design for the European stamp this year?  Our friends in Europe will have the usual portrait of HMQ instead and I’ll have to do what I can to jolly up the envelopes myself.

Today, I was putting some of my new-found skills into practice as I began work on our Christmas cards for this year.  I’d been thinking over a few ideas whilst we were away and this morning, sat down and started to play with the stitch design feature of my machine.

In no time at all, I was ready to give it a test run, so having saved it all to the USB stick as well as the machine memory – just in case - out came the red embroidery thread and the gold embroidery needles I’d bought in JoAnns last week.

Just as all was set and ready to go, I heard a shout from my hero, though, who was busy laying a wooden floor in an upstairs bedroom.  As I went to the stairs to see what’s what, I saw him coming down holding his hand… 

A nasty cut to his finger leaves him hors de combat for the weekend but thankfully, no permanent damage is done.  His visit to the Minor Injuries unit in Cirencester combined nicely with my hairdressing appointment and took less time than a cut and blow dry.  But he’s finding  single handed typing a challenge and it looks like I’ll be doing the driving for a few days.

So what became of the Christmas stitch?  You’ll just have to wait and see!

New trend or a local custom?

Whilst we’ve been here, we’ve noticed an unusual – to us – greeting.  When bidding someone goodbye in a shop or in the hotel, during the last few days we’ve heard a different reply from the norm.

“Be well” was the response in the drugstore.

“Stay Safe” said the hotel staff as we went out the door each morning.

“Be Thankful” was the reply from the museum docent.

“Be blessed” wished the waiter in the restaurant last night.

I don’t know if these are the latest variation on “have a nice day” or if such things are the norm in Washington DC.  I don’t even know if I appreciate such responses and certainly can’t decide if they are over pious or totally insincere.  Being the bumbling Englishwoman that I am, I’ve simply smiled and muttered “oh…er…thankyou”.  What I perhaps ought to have mastered is the simple, non-commital American reply of “uh-huh”.

Give me a bit more time and I’ll get it.

Almost time to go home

Just a few more hours to spend before heading to the airport, so after “our usual” breakfast, we collected the car and headed off west, into Virginia, with the intention of exploring a couple of small towns on our way.

This sign confused us a little – a National Park for the Performing Arts?  We need to find out more, but till then, we’d better keep going.

Out in the fields of Virginia, we were fascinated to see the landscape littered with huge houses – I mean h-u-g-e by anyone’s standards, each on a five acre plot or so, many of them situated on hilltops overlooking the others or worse, the freeway.  No fences separating them, no hedges or tree-planted windbreaks, just acres of lawn.

We couldn’t imagine living somewhere like this; so exposed and so “in your face affluent”.

But further affluence was just around the corner, in Waterford, an old village of fine houses situated on a hillside just off the freeway. 

Though many of the homes were modest, elegant and clearly cherished, the village itself felt bleak and empty, devoid of the character and personality that warmed us to Chestertown the other day.

Still, if the idea of living in this historic Virginian village tickles your fancy, there’s a fine property for sale.

We’re quite happy where we are, thank you, so we let the satnav guide us on through the byways until we hit an unsealed road and some signs.  Not wanting to upset anyone, we drove a little further to find somewhere to turn around.

There, we found further signs which did make us wonder, what on earth is going on down there and what do they have to hide?  We continued on the byways until our car creepily found its way to Leesburg Corner.

With a couple of hours to kill, the outlet mall seemed like as good a place as any in which to spend them.

Though I think that for a while, we might have been the only shoppers there.

But hey, black jeans needs were satisfied!

Then, shortly afterwards, underwear supplies were replenished too.

Though I think that some Virginian men might have a story to tell?

Then, having discovered the “search for shops” facility on the satnav, we found ourselves in JoAnns again – this time, without the crowds and with coupons in my hand.  I had a printed coupon from my last visit, but as I entered the store, I thought I’d check on my phone to see if there was a better one.  Sure enough, there it was – 60%. 

It was clear from the abundance of blue and white sparkly fabric that Frozen remains the inspiration for dressing up outfits around here!  But I wasn’t looking for such frippery and was delighted to find a huge roll of stitch’n’tear for my 60% off purchase.  Needless to say, I found a couple of other things too, so was pleased to find that my printed 40% off coupon worked on everything else, too.

The thing is, where there’s a JoAnns, there’s often a Michaels not very far away and it being the cut-throat commercial world that it is, each accepts the other’s coupons…

Sure enough, just around the corner, there it was.  Heaps and heaps of tacky Christmas decorations, all heavily reduced – if only someone was after such things!  I wasn’t – but I did find some papers for my December Daily journal at 50% off and a couple of Heidi Swapp Colourshine sprays which were half price too. 

I have no idea what people are doing with multicoloured cable ties, but they were all over the place.  Maybe next year’s big hit?  Leaving them on the shelf I went to check out, spotting a pack of my favourite MaryJane sweets by the cash register.  As everything was half price already, my coupon didn’t work – but lo and behold, I got 60% off the price of the sweets!

(Meanwhile, my hero was enjoying the peace and quiet of the car, sitting reading his book which is unputdownable, he tells me)

And that was that.  We opened the suitcases to put our purchases inside, to check in, and continued along the freeway for a short distance to the airport.

We said goodbye to our car and made our way to the terminal to check in.

We’ve already reserved our favourite seats behind the red swoosh and so we simply dropped off our luggage and are now enjoying a glass of something cold and white and a bite to eat whilst we await our flight home.

What a great time we had!

What to do with all of those Tunnocks Tea Cake wrappers

I left you ogling that full on scene of silverware, labelled “The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nation’s Millennium General Assembly”, by James Hampton.  Looking more closely, it becomes clear that it’s not silverware at all, but aluminium foil wrapped over wooden frames, or scrunched up into balls.

Actually, when you take a closer look, it’s not that good at all!  But the overall effect is pretty eyecatching, wouldn’t you say?

So there.  Something to work on.

We followed on round into the American art section, immediately recognising this work by Edward Hopper.  Just around the corner was another exhibit of Presidential portraits, one of only two complete sets in the whole country.  Two stood out for me, firstly a warm and affectionate portrait of Richard Nixon, by our favourite Normal Rockwell.

Quite how Rockwell does it, I have no idea.  But his work always has a friendliness and approachability to it, regardless of the subject.

The other one is of JFK.  I’m not sure I like the style, don’t think I’d want to live with the portrait either.  But having read that the man never stood still for more than thirty seconds, the impression it gives could well be quite accurate.  Since his is one of the most photographed faces too, I was glad to see something a little different from the norm.

There was more to see, but mindful of our aching feet and dwindling attention span, we decided to call it a day and leave the rest for next time.  We collected our coats and made our way outside.

Look what we spotted opposite!

Our favourite Shake Shack from NYC, there on the other corner, large as life.  Of course we had to go and get something – we weren’t hungry at all, but shakes and floats and custards and concretes beckoned.  We sat outside for half an hour, savouring our choices and watching the world go by.  Perfect!

Slightly fortified, we staggered back towards the hotel, passing the alleyway on F street behind Ford’s Theatre, where Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.

Half an hour in Barnes and Noble, perusing craft books, magazines and road trip maps was a fun diversion, too, but the meanies have taken away all the chairs so it’s not the refuge for weary feet it used to be!

So we really did feel the need to go back to the hotel this time.  4pm in Thanksgiving week and here was a young woman walking in front of us wearing a light dress and cardigan, no coat nor tights and open sandals on her feet.

The weather forecasts snow for the day after tomorrow, incidentally.

We did manage to stagger out for some dinner later, in the still balmy evening air where the reindeer and Christmas lights just seemed totally out of place.

We’ll sleep well tonight, I’m sure!