Update 1 of ?: Rosie

 

Sometime this year Rosie turns 11.

You’d hardly know it, short of looking closely at her eyes, which have developed the typical cloudiness for an older dog. She’s as energetic as ever when she grabs a toy and does her “I want to go outside” dance (which closely resembles her “I’m hungry” and “I want some attention now” dances.) And while she’s developed at least one white whisker and the little patch on her chin nobody ever sees has grown a bit, by all appearances she hasn’t aged a day since she walked in the door almost 9 years ago.

So fierce

Yet one telltale change is marking her time on Earth. Over the past several months I noticed her hearing seemed to be diminishing. Her ignoring of my “c’mere”s seemed a little beyond passive stubbornness, and it was obvious from her startled waking growls that she was no longer able to hear the cat’s plaintive greeting meows. I mentioned this to the vet during her annual checkup in May, and she confirmed there was nothing outwardly wrong with Rosie’s ears, so it was surely age catching up with her. She’s such a sweet, responsive girl it didn’t really matter; she rarely used “I didn’t hear you” as an excuse.

But one morning last week at breakfast, Rosie was looking me right in the face when I gave her the “ok” to eat. (I make her sit and wait when I place her bowl on the floor. I told you she was a Good Dog.) After I gave her the command she just continued to smile eagerly at me, awaiting permission. I tried again louder, then a third time, at a shout. It wasn’t until I added a swipe of the hand in the direction of her bowl that she jumped up and dove in.

She’d done this before, hesitating as if she weren’t sure I really meant “ok.” But usually that was accompanied by a false start and some tail swishes. Not today. It was as if she’d forgotten to turn the volume up in her world.

Over the next few days Miss Chef and I repeatedly tested the dog’s hearing, calling her loudly from right behind. It became apparent from Rosie’s startled reactions whenever we touched her that she had no idea we were anywhere nearby. Seemingly overnight, her hearing had gone from “poor” to “practically nonexistent.” Thank goodness she’s such a calm dog and never reacts aggressively when we frighten her. I’ve been searching for gentle ways to awake her from her naps—waving my hand in front of her nose worked once, and tapping the floor if she’s not on the carpet works too.

Though it may seem like “aw, such a shame,” I’ve actually been kind of enjoying this new adjustment. I guess it’s the scientist in me, testing new ways of communicating and interacting with her. Fortunately I had already taught Rosie many hand signals—come, sit, stay, look over there cover most of our daily needs. Oh, and the “Where’s your toy?” shrug. Yes, I taught her that! I’m glad she’s such a quick learner, and had picked them up almost effortlessly along the way.

This is not me. Also, crazy eyes are not part of the signal.

The only thing I wish I’d developed a signal for was “good girl.” Because I can tell she misses the balm of verbal praise. She often comes over just for a little pet-pet, seeming to want that reassurance that she used to get so frequently via tone of voice. I’m trying to teach her a “good girl” sign now, but it doesn’t seem to have clicked yet. That’s ok, pet-pets are a nice substitute, if a little hard to achieve when one’s hands are full.

And then there are some other benefits. Like when I want to go from bed to bathroom to bed again without a dancing, huffy escort who thinks any post-sleep movement means it’s time for breakfast. Or when I let her in the backyard, she no longer hears me close the door and turns around with a look of betrayal; she just goes on about her sniffing and peeing business.

So, all in all, I’m content that it’s her hearing that’s gone, rather than sight, mobility or general well-being. And aside from missing her “good girls,” she doesn’t seem to care at all. As long as she’s still able to hang out in the front yard and sniff the world wafting by, Rosie’s a happy pup.

 

In case you were wondering, that second picture is her yawning. Not so fierce, actually.

More Snow!

Apparently the last dusting of snow and ice we got was simply a warm-up for the next big storm.  I feel very lucky to have an employer who is free and willing to shut down for this.  And rather generously, too.  We were released at noon on Tuesday, and have all of Wednesday off.  I won’t be surprised if we open late on Thursday, too.  I told Miss Chef last night, between holidays, illness and weather, I think I’ve worked only one solid week since Christmas!

Which means I’m losing ways to entertain myself around the house.  It’s a bit after 9:00 am on Wednesday as I write this, and it has just started snowing again.  I’m sure things will get much more interesting as the day wears on, but in the meantime I thought I’d share some of the photos I took yesterday.  As I said, I was sent home early, and the first thing I did was change clothes and head out the door with Rosie. 

Rosie loves the snow…but not like most dogs.

 

I did manage to get her attention long enough to put on her leash and head down to the park.

 

 

The snow was just wet enough to cling to the bare branches, and the woods were filled with a lacy brightness on this otherwise gray day.

 

 

 

I like to take Rosie back into a wooded area behind the pond, where I am comfortable letting her off the leash.  This copse of mostly evergreen trees with their regular, parallel trunks and reddish bark, is very different than the woods I grew up with.

I couldn’t resist posing Rosie, though she hates having her picture taken.

 

This ended up being a short walk, since I hadn’t bothered to put a scarf on, and the snow was finding its way down the back of my neck.  Brrrr!  I’m glad to get some snow and be able to enjoy it.  Because here in the South, spring generally comes early enough to make winter kind of fun.

 

Oh, and in case you were curious, McKenna is quite happy being an indoor cat when the weather is cold.

Mountain Getaway

Three years ago, Miss Chef and I celebrated our 10th anniversary by renting a cabin in the woods in the mountains of western North Carolina.  We enjoyed the entire weekend so much that it’s become our annual tradition.  Just as the long nights close in and winter signals its intent to return, we enjoy a last hurrah of sunshine (usually), beautiful color, and apples.

We have never stayed in the same place twice, and this year found us heading to Lake Lure, just down the road from Chimney Rock, which we visited a couple of years ago.  It seemed more difficult to us to find the kind of place we wanted this year within our price range.  Miss Chef found one in a gated community, which I assumed meant more of a townhome kind of arrangement, or at least not quite the isolated cabin experience we’ve had in the past.

Regardless, I was excited to get away for a long weekend.  It’s only about 2 1/2 hours to drive to the Asheville area, and it seems only an hour or so before we are already enjoying our first mountain views.

 

Although Lake Lure is on the near side of Asheville, we couldn’t check in to the cabin until 3:00.  So Miss Chef assumed that we would naturally head on into Asheville for lunch at her favorite area restaurant…

…again.  We haven’t been to Asheville without eating here, since we first discovered it.  So I didn’t bother to suggest we try something different.  Besides, there are always a few more items left to explore on this menu.

Miss Chef leapt at the chance to sit at the bar, which is prime seating for the open kitchen.  We both enjoyed watching the many cooks at work, serving up our lunches while also prepping for dinner.  I swear one cook stood in front of me separating cloves from heads of garlic for half an hour.

With all the movement going on, it was impossible to get a good, clean panorama shot, but I like the sense of energy.  I was impressed at how quietly the cooks worked, and how they seemed more or less oblivious of their audience.  Even the sauté pans were shiny and clean.  No cursing or sex jokes out here!

After lunch, we wandered Asheville for a bit, visiting Mast General Store and French Broad Chocolate Lounge…yum!

 

Then we headed on a rather lengthy drive down (and up, and down…) a lovely, winding mountain road toward Lake Lure to get the key to the cabin.  Though we had been getting hints of early fall color for the past week or so in  Charlotte, everything was still mostly green.

 

Once we had keys and directions in hand, we found our way to the “gated community” and quickly realized this wasn’t your average neighborhood.  Almost immediately we were driving up a narrow, twisty gravel road with cabins strewn here and there on the wooded slope.  And when we finally reached our cabin, I had to give Miss Chef her due…she had found us a perfect mountain getaway.

 

It was small and warm, with a second-story loft area serving as master bedroom.   The opposite wall of the cabin promised a lovely first view in the morning.

 

It wasn’t until I looked out the back window, and stepped onto the balcony that I fully appreciated where we had landed.

The name of the property is “Me, You and the View,” which had stuck me as just too cutesy, but I have to hand it to them…it’s a perfect name.

After settling in, we drove back out to get a few essentials—coffee for the morning, deli sandwiches for dinner, and our first gallon of apple cider.  Then we retired to our cozy getaway and enjoyed a few hours snuggled in front of the tv with hot mulled cider.

The next morning, I arose just before dawn and discovered the view had many faces…

…and that it changed quickly and frequently.  The fog rising off Lake Lure became rosy in the morning sun before slowly dissipating.

 

 

 

The temperature had dropped well below freezing the previous night, and neither of us was eager to head out on a tromp through the woods on this chilly morning.  So we opted to drive back to Hickory Nut Gap Farm, which we had passed the day before.  Miss Chef has been here before to pick up pork and beef for the school, and for one of the restaurants she’s worked at.  Today it was time to pick up some supplies for ourselves.

Which included apples.

 

Once we’d cleared out a good portion of their inventory, we decided to head on back to Asheville, since the farm was about halfway there anyway.  The day was still chilly, so we stopped to eat at a noodle shop right on Pack Square.  The place was teeny-tiny, reminding me of some of the no-frills restaurants I’d enjoyed as a student in Paris, many years ago.  The food was warm, delicious and filling, and we were soon back on the sidewalks, exploring the storefronts of this funky, creative city.

We stopped at the renowned Malaprops independent bookstore.

 

We tried out a new business, the Gourmet Chip Company.

I got the plain-Jane salt and pepper chips, Miss Chef tried “the Parisian:” white truffle spritz, herb crusted goat cheese, rosemary and thyme.

We checked out any number of gift shops, food stores and art galleries as the day warmed a bit.  We eventually found ourselves in the general area of the parking garage where we had left the car, and decided to head out of the city.  My vote was to enjoy a drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

For those who aren’t familiar with it, this is a beautiful two-way roadway constructed in the 1930s.  Today it is, in a sense, the longest National Park in the country.  According to Wikipedia,

“[i]t runs for 469 miles (755 km) through twenty-nine Virginia and North Carolina counties, mostly along the Blue Ridge, a major mountain chain that is part of the Appalachian Mountains. Its southern terminus is on the boundary between Great Smoky Mountains National Park and the Cherokee Indian Reservation in North Carolina, from which it travels north to Shenandoah National Park in Virginia and offers access to the Skyline Drive.”

And according to the official National Park website, construction began in 1935 as part of the New Deal, offering jobs for the unemployed.  Today it is a lovely tourist attraction, but considering the state of technology nearly 80 years ago, it’s also a monument to human determination and ingenuity.

Ride along with us for a minute or so (please ignore the windshield specks).

 

The construction of the parkway tunnels gives testimony to the careful craftmanship of a bygone era.

 

The parkway also features many, many pullouts to stop and enjoy scenic overlooks.  We took advantage of several.

 

 

It seemed that the overnight cold snap had finally started some of the trees into their first bright show of color.

 

However, as you can tell, the sun was promising to soon drop behind the distant ridge, so we headed back to the the nearby town of Hendersonville for a warm, tasty dinner.  It was close to bedtime when we drove our way back up the gravel road to our home away from home, and we didn’t waste any time snuggling in for another cozy night.

Sunday morning I slept a bit later than the day before, and was eager to see what the view offered this day.

 

After snapping this shot, I settled into breakfast, only to look up no more than five minutes later and discover the scene had changed remarkably!

And ten minutes after that…

 

Did you notice the fake owl sitting on the balcony railing in a couple of those shots?  Miss Chef found it a bit unsettling…I can’t imagine why…

 

This was checkout day, so Miss Chef was busy cleaning up while I finished breakfast and stripped the bed.  I decided that, although we’d missed our chance for stargazing with the telescope near the back window, it might be interesting to see what it could do in gazing across the valley.  I’d never used a telescope before, and it took me forever to see anything besides white haze.  But in a one-in-a-million stroke of luck, I happened to zero in on the top of Chimney Rock!  I had Miss Chef come out to see, and we were both surprised to realize our cabin was sitting at least as high as that formation. 

Before driving back to the office of the rental agency, we went a little out of our way to visit the small lake where a kayak belonging to the property had been available for our use.  It had been too cold the previous day, but we were interested to see what the lakeside looked like.  And we were quite glad we took the time!

 

We also discovered a short nature trail across the road, and were happy to get in at least a short hike in the woods.  There was a picturesque waterfall…

 

…and a gorgeous wide, rocky river alive with swirling eddies.

 

 

We spent quite a while here, seated on a huge boulder, just watching the water flow by.  Isn’t that what vacation is all about.

 

Soon enough though, we were headed back to the highway—a couple of stops for more cider and other regional treats, as well as lunch in Hendersonville, and then back down to the flatlands.  We collected Rosie from “camp,” where she stays with a friend in the country, and then finally home.

Only to realize, fall had followed us into our own front yard.

Summer Hibernation

One of these years, I may just learn to lower my expectations of myself from mid-June through August.  Apparently, once the thermometer creeps over the 80-degree mark (that’s about 27 for you centigrade folks), I become allergic to the outdoors.  Oh, sure I may convince myself that an early-morning paddle or cloudy-evening hedge trimming is necessary, but in general I become a fat, lazy bear.  Polar bear, I guess.

I’d rather be a long, lazy cat.

Has she really grown much in the past two months?

Yes, yes she has!

Sometimes I’d swear she looks bigger at the end of the day than she did when I left for work that morning.  I look at her and think, “You’re a big cat now,” but I have to remind myself she’s got a lot of growing to do.  We may need to get a bigger couch.

It’s been a learning experience, having a permanent cat in the home.  She’s a great cat, very friendly and relatively responsive to our polite requests to please not jump on the kitchen table.  We recently invited three of our cat-owning friends over, and they all declared her exceptionally personable.  She’s not a scaredy-cat, hide-under-the-couch kind of girl.  She was quite happy to show off her playful charm.

No matter how user-friendly the cat, however, I have learned there are a few ground rules to be aware of:

1. Every new toy must be taken under the bed for closer examination.

2. If possible, wait until the litter box has been freshly cleaned before pooping in it.  This is best when it occurs right before bedtime.  (I should explain that the litter box is in our master bathroom).

3. Cat Olympics begin no later than 9:30 pm daily.  Warm ups may begin up to two hours prior.

4. Everything that moves is a toy.  Some things that don’t move may also be toys.  Test everything.

5. Dogs fall under Rule 4, but beware of the Growly Warning System.  This indicates imminent failure of the Docility Moderator, at which point it is important to vacate the premises immediately.

6. Flowing water must be carefully monitored, even if it is emanating from your human.

7. The more a human indicates a desire to remain motionless, the more active you must become.

 

I’m sure there will be more rules to learn.  It’s a mutual training experience.  On the other hand, McKenna and Rosie have pretty well established their relationship.  The cat uses Rosie as a moving target, and Rosie ignores her as best she can. As Rosie trots through the living room, it’s an amazing sight when McKenna leaps from behind a chair, rears up on her hind legs and plants her little white-gloved paws smack on the dog’s face.  Rosie pauses, shakes her off, and continues on her way.  One of these days I’ve got to get it on video. 

In the meantime, here’s my current favorite still photo of Little Miss Troublemaker.

 

 

Now, that gathering I mentioned earlier was a very casual make-your-own-pizza party we had over Labor Day weekend.  Miss Chef mixed up some pizza dough, and we prepped lots of ingredients: sautéed mushrooms, sweet red marinated peppers, caramelized onions, Italian sausage, goat cheese, arugula, tomatoes, pesto, garlic butter, grated parmesan… 

When our guests arrived, Miss Chef fired up the grill outside, put a pizza stone on the grate, and started rolling out mini-sized pizzas.

 

We took turns creating our own combinations and sliding them onto the stone.  After 10 or 15 minutes, we pulled off the tastiest little gourmet creations you could ask for.

This was my pesto-onion-pepper-goat cheese combo.  It tasted even better than it looked!  We finished off with some dessert pizzas, at which point Miss Chef accidentally invented Nutella-strawberry calzone.  Even her mistakes are delicious.

These days I’m especially happy for every bit of cooking Miss Chef does around the house, because her schedule this quarter sucks!  She’s teaching five days a week, with classes ranging from 8 am start times to midnight end times.  The cooking labs are five-hour classes, so a reasonable start time like 7:30 pm turns into a long, tiring night.  The worst is going from her midnight Thursday class to her 10 am Friday class.  During the week, I only see her Monday evening and late Tuesday; by the time she stumbles in at 8 pm on Friday, there’s only an hour or two of couch slouching together before bedtime.

So I’ve tried to be a little more proactive in the kitchen, but it’s a struggle.  I have long recognized my lack of creativity when it comes to figuring out what’s for dinner.  Lately, Miss Chef has resorted to pulling cookbooks off the shelf and leafing through them until something appeals to both of us.  My whole point to this paragraph is that I want to share with you an absolutely fantastic recipe I made from a book called Poulet by Cree LeFavour.  It’s called Ginger-Coriander Chicken and was so good Miss Chef and I both decided independently that it will be made again.

I don’t usually share recipes—frankly, we don’t use recipes much anymore, outside of baking—but this is too good to keep to myself.  I’ll give you the measurements from the book, but will try to summarize the steps.  If I leave anything out or you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment.

Ingredients

• 8 to 10 chicken thighs (bone-in, skin-on)
• 1 red or orange bell pepper, seeded and diced
• one 6-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated (she calls for sliced, but unless you can get super-fresh ginger, this leaves you with nasty, tough disks you’ll be pulling off your plate)
• 1 tbsp coriander seeds
• 1 tbsp mustard seeds
• 4 garlic cloves, crushed
• 3 cups chicken stock
• For garnish, 1/2 cup chopped cilantro and 1/2 cup chopped green onion (white and tender green parts only)

 

Method

Preheat your oven to 450°F/230°C.  Rub the chicken with oil and sprinkle with salt, (I let it sit at room temperature for 20-30 minutes before starting, to bring it to room temperature).  Over medium-high heat in a Dutch oven or high-sided oven-safe skillet, brown the chicken on both sides with a little oil.  Remove the chicken and pour off any excess fat.  Reduce heat to low and put in the ginger, garlic, bell pepper and seeds.  Stir them around for 2 or 3 minutes ( or “until the mustard seeds begin to pop,” which they didn’t do for me).  Pour in the stock, put the chicken back in, and bang the whole thing into the oven, uncovered, for about 30 minutes.  Put on some basmati rice while you’re waiting, and when it’s all ready, use the cooking liquid as a sauce.  It’s good without the cilantro-green onion garnish, but it’s even better with it.  Also, if you don’t want the seeds on your plate, you could tie them up in cheesecloth when you add them, but it didn’t bother me.

The most time-consuming part of this was prepping the ginger, mostly because the grocery-store stuff is pretty old and tough (tip: use a spoon or the back of a knife to peel it).  I’m sure you can buy pre-grated ginger if you don’t enjoy a good session with the cutting board—please, though, don’t use the dry stuff.

So that’s it—some cat pictures, some food pictures and a recipe.  Not bad for being in hibernation.  By October, I might even have some outdoor stories to share.  I’m going to have to do something to occupy myself, because Miss Chef’s fall quarter is looking similar to the current one.