In the wee hours of Saturday morning Mama Nature brought four inches of fluffy Lake Effect to my deck and left it there as a nice surprise. Thoughtful of her. The Duo were delighted, and nothing would do but that we get out and about in it before it was spoiled. That explains why I was shuffling along the road in my pajamas and boots and down coat and heavy mittens at 4:30 a.m. We all enjoyed it. No wind, no motors, no birdcalls. Restful.
Afterward we tucked ourselves inside and tended to homely duties. I wrote, they slept, waking only to bark at passing squirrels and golden retrievers. I made a big pot of chicken soup and accidentally dropped the entire contents of a bag of frozen peas into it. Well, I thought, maybe I should just add more noodles and make it into a sort of casserole.
It smelled really good, better than it tastes, which is mostly like peas. I like peas, but maybe not so many. Sigh. It turns out that the Cowboy and Miss Sadie love peas, particularly with noodles and chicken, so we’ll use up the casserole in short order and go on to the next culinary adventure.
After all that excitement we went out again. It was still peaceful, and there was still a lot of fluffy Lake Effect in the driveway. I have no idea where Dale Reedy has gotten to. Maybe it didn’t snow up on the Flat Road and he doesn’t know that plowing awaits him. Mama Nature and her little jokes.
Right after I took this picture I swept all the snow off the steps like a responsible grownup. (Just wanted Rob the Firefighter to know that. I wish to make a good impression on him, although at this late date that’s possibly a lost cause. Especially since I’ve already admitted to the disaster with the peas.) I am not a responsible grownup, though. Witness this.
That is a little custard cup full of schmaltz. Rendered chicken fat. Sort of rendered. It’s the fat that congealed at the top of the chicken broth during the process of, er, soup-making. I reserved it for a special occasion, when I am feeling like throwing caution and heart health to the winds and frying some chicken livers. The way things are going that might happen any day now. At the moment I have another secret weapon from the Gloom Resistance Underground.
That is creamed star thistle honey with lemons blended in. It is exactly what it says on the label: Sunshine in a jar. I found it at the Village Market, where they were giving out little samples on crackers. I am a fool for samples on crackers. A tiny dab of the Lemon Honey Crême can brighten up an entire afternoon, which is a good thing because it cost a fortune and I cannot imagine how I came to buy it. Must have been the circumflex. Or more likely just winter. I do things like that in winter. At least it’s a locally concocted indulgence, from Sleeping Bear Farms over in Benzie County. If you’re going to throw your money away, don’t throw it very far.
The sun’s shining out there now. Maybe the Lake Effect in the driveway will disappear without the assistance of Dale’s teal truck. Stranger things have happened and will again.
Torch Lake Views 
Dawn
February 19, 2012
I was in my pj’s, bare feet in clogs outside this morning with Katie at 2:30. Not a snow flake in sight and the most glorious stars…which I took a moment to watch. I even thought about thanking Katie for getting me up in the middle of the night, but then thought better of it as she’ll make it a habit, and the stars are not always out.
Glad Cowboy and Sadie get to share in the pea adventure!
Gerry
February 19, 2012
I know that starry experience, bare feet in clogs and all. However would we manage without dogs? The duo always get to share in adventures, and especially in misadventures. It’s in their contract.
tootlepedal
February 19, 2012
Sorry about the excess peas. I know the feeling of living in hope after a culinary accident.
Gerry
February 19, 2012
It’s surprising how often something can be salvaged, given enough cheese. That didn’t seem to be called for here, though. Sigh again.
tootlepedal
February 19, 2012
Sympathetic sigh.
shoreacres
February 19, 2012
Tuna hotdish. That’s what it was in Iowa – tuna, noodles, peas and cream of mushroom soup. It’s been a while since I’ve thought of it, but your peas brought it all back.
And now I’m going to have to get out the toaster and fix up an English muffin with some lemon curd from those nice folks up in Petosky. I think it’s an absolute hoot that American spoon foods makes the best lemon curd in the world – the English are a poor second.
By the way – have you ever read the page-long intro to the Spoon Foods catalogue? I don’t mean to be sounding like a commerical for them, but it’s the writing that’s superb. The fellow who’s the owner writes the intro, and when I finished his latest entry, I was stunned at how beautifully descriptive it was. Made me buy the lemon curd in gratitude.
Gerry
February 19, 2012
What–no topping of crispy fried onions? Or crumbled potato chips, that was another option.
So now I’ve made chicken hotdish with too many peas. Coals heaped on my head.
I have given up perusing American Spoon Foods materials. Just reading them was making me fat. I’m pretty sure that’s what it was.
P.j. grath
February 19, 2012
Big pot of chicken and broth here, too. Lucky for us–no frozen peas in the house.
Honey? Can’t go wrong with honey in any form. It won’t go bad, either.
Gerry
February 19, 2012
Unlike, say, the Cowboy.
Karma
February 20, 2012
Bummer on the pea-overload. I like peas too, but in their place, and an entire bagful in the soup (or casserole) is definitely not their place. I had a basset hound when I was child and she most definitely did not like peas: if you offered her a plate of leftovers, she would eat everything on the plate but the peas, which ended up flung every which way around the plate and floor.
Gerry
February 20, 2012
We did not fling our excess peas about, but we are a bit weary of them. We might eat no more peas until July.
Heather
February 20, 2012
Sorry about the peas; that’s exactly how I would have made it, though, because I LOVE peas.
We’ve only used the snow blower twice this year, and are hoping that the sun will take care of the fluff. It has in the past, and especially this winter.
Gerry
February 21, 2012
Round and round the snow it blows, where it stops, nobody knows. At least we’ve managed to finish off the peas. (Miss Sadie and the Cowboy have been a big help.)
flandrumhill
February 21, 2012
Those chicken livers sound so good as does the sunshine in a jar. Never mind Christmas. This has to be the worst time of year for gaining weight!
Gerry
February 21, 2012
We’ll see. I’ve had altogether enough kitchen misadventures to last me for awhile.
Sybil
February 22, 2012
As John Lennon would say: “Give peas a chance …”