Vegetarian Bird Suet

Winter has finally arrived with below zero temps and I find myself wanting to help out the birds as much as possible. Recently I went to buy some suet and was surprised when I looked at the ingredients on the back and saw that beef was on the list. I had never seen a bird dining on cow before and so I put the suet back and thought I'd figure out how to make my own.

After researching how to make suet, I have come to the conclusion that I am far from being an ornithologist and knowing what's best for the birds in my yard. As it turns out, suet is also known as beef fat and can be safely fed to birds.

However, there was no turning back. I was not going to return to the store to buy the suet, I would make my own. I found an easy recipe and had most of the ingredients at home:

4 tbsp crisco

2 tbsp peanut butter

2 tbsp sugar

6 tbsp polenta

3 tbsp quick oats

2 tbsp flour

2 tbsp chopped sunflower seeds

2 tbsp chopped raisins

I melted the crisco, peanut butter and sugar in a pyrex cup in the microwave. Meanwhile, I combined the rest of the ingredients in a medium bowl and then poured the melted ingredients on top and stirred it all together. Then I took my suet holder and figured out an approximate shape to press the ingredients into a dish.

This all went into the fridge for the night so it could solidify. Once it hardened up, it was super easy to place it inside the suet feeder. I think it took all of five minutes for the birds to discover their homemade treat and now I can watch them enjoy it from the warmth of our living room.

I just hope they like my variety more than the neighbor's. Now, what should I do with the rest of that polenta?

Junk In My Trunk

We had put off the chore of taking the garbage to the dump for over a month. I should point out that it is much easier to get away with this in the winter because the garbage freezes and maggots don't form. Alas, the guilt formulated and began to hover over the garbage, so it was time.

Drew was off doing his own thing so he left the task up to me. This was a mistake. As I pulled up to the dumpster, I spotted a lamp. A lamp with a pottery base that just happened to match the decor of our living room. Upon my first inspection, I saw that it was sitting on top of a table and was oddly screwed into it. I contemplated the lamp and threw the first 2 bags into the bin. I spun around and Jim was already getting his tools out to make sure the lamp went home with me.

He told me how easy it would be to re-wire the lamp when we saw the cord had been cut. I hadn't looked to see if it was functional. I had only thought about where to find the perfect lamp shade for it, but I guess I'll be looking into becoming an electrician too. As the lamp made it to the back of my trunk, I had a few more bags to toss.

Just when I was throwing the last of the trash in, a man unloaded from his minivan an old milk can and put it to the side. Jim gave me a wink. This too would be mine.

I'm not a fan of the previous owner's paint job, but it's nothing a can of spray paint in the right color can't fix, right? Do you see where I'm going with this? I should probably not go to the dump alone or I'll end up with more junk in my trunk than I started with.

Annual Free Tree

We spent the afternoon walking around an undisclosed property along the Ausable searching for a Christmas tree to add a little holiday cheer. Yes, we were permitted to cut this gem down from the secret forest.

I'm thinking there are slightly more branches than last year's tree. After adding lights and decorations, Charlie Brown ain't got nothing on us!

A Little Bit of Brooklyn

Recently I had one of my childhood bff's swing by for a brief visit before Thanksgiving. He always seems to visit during the shoulder season when not a whole lot is going on and I can never figure out what to do with him, not that it really matters because no matter what, there is always laughter.

This time was no exception. After meeting for lunch in Lake Placid we headed back to my house and I showed him the two additions to our home in the last year, saloon doors and the Soda Stream. Many of my friends own a Soda Stream and share the love of the seltzer, but if like Phil you have been hiding under a rock, you must watch this:

He immediately wanted a demonstration and after his first few sips he suggested we make egg creams. I had never tasted an egg cream before and he informed me that it contains neither eggs or cream. All we needed was the Soda Stream to make our soda water, milk, and chocolate syrup to create the fizzy beverage.

Although the fountain drink is highly associated with Brooklyn, you can make it anywhere, even along the Au Sable. His father was from the Bronx and that never stopped him from treating his kids to an old fashioned egg cream.

Phil was in charge of mixing the drink for us and used the following recipe: equal parts milk and seltzer (about 1/2 cup each) and three big squeezes of chocolate syrup. He tested it out before serving it.

When I asked him what the verdict was, he said, "It's not the best thing in the world." Drew said, "sure, sure." After a couple more gulps it turned into, "yeah, good." Always an optimist and not wanting to hurt Sal the Soda Stream's feelings, I thought it was okay but it would probably have been better if we weren't using 1% milk and tap water. Or maybe, just maybe we needed to follow a previously tested recipe? Phil admitted that he remembers feeling obligated as a kid to liking egg creams because it was considered a treat.

Bad egg cream or good, it's always a treat to see my pal Phil.

RIP Rosa

It has been an emotional week. My beloved car Rosa's little body couldn't take it any longer and was put out to pasture. On her final journey along the Ausable this morning, we shared one last song on the radio together, Bust A Move.



I don't think there could ever be a better farewell song for a car like Rosa. She moved all the way to her final resting place.

I leave you with the last picture from our final photo shoot today next to a phone booth in Keeseville.

R.I.P. Rosa, Honda Civic LX, 1997 - 2011

Auto Repair Sign

Imagine for a moment that your nickname is Al or to some, Big Al and then picture yourself in a happy mood listening to music at the Recovery Lounge and having a slight buzz. Now keeping all of this in mind, you notice a sign in a corner of the basement that says, "Cal's Auto Repair." You inquire about the sign and someone tells you that you can take it. For free.

Jump ahead a few months, the monstrous sign is in your garage and you start thinking winter is around the corner and it would be nice to park your car inside. So, you drag the giant sign outside and clean it and ponder the name Cal. Cal not Al.

Next thing you know, you see your husband getting out the blow torch and a razor blade and starts focusing his energy on the letter, C. After only a few minutes, the C is gone. You now have a white spot in front of Al's. Then, as any Fine Arts major would do, you get out the art supplies.

You discover the best way to blend the white into the aged sign is by using a combination of colored pencils and the Milk Yellow and Golden Ochre oil pastels with a paper towel. Your neighbor stands above you shaking her head and you find yourself taking pride in your work.

Then, the moment you had been waiting for arrives and you are standing inside your garage with your husband admiring your new sign, Al's Auto Repair.

After all that, you can finally pull your car into the garage. It's just too bad there's no Al that can actually do any auto repair that lives there.

Gone Postal

The time has come when I can finally reveal the use of the thingamajig that we purchased at the Adirondack Attic last week. A mailbox post to rest the fabulous mailbox my crafty sister painted for us!

I'll provide you with a close up of her paint job.

Landscape with Covered Bridge, Jay, NY

I have to say, I'm pretty lucky to have her as my big sister. As kids we frequented a mailbox that played music and since she remembered how obsessed I was by it, she took a musical card that played, "Super Freak" and had an engineer at work attach it so when you opened the mailbox, it would burst into song. The postman first opened it this morning and had a surprise tune. I'm guessing the music startled him because he delivered a letter addressed to the wrong person.

After 3 1/2 years of driving to the post office for our mail, we can simply walk down the driveway to retrieve it. Now we'll just have to see how our mailbox does against the snow plow this winter.

Gnome Juice

This was the scene on my porch when I returned from work this evening.

After using my amazing detective skills, I discovered that a fellow book club member had been surveying the property across the way and had a little help from our garden gnomes and kindly rewarded them with some Gnome Juice.

Making Porch History

Last month I wrote about the saga of the missing porch. We had some issues with losing our cat to its scary underworld and thought we needed to remedy the problem. In general, the porch was a little shabby to begin with and no, I don't mean shabby chic.

So, the porch was destroyed and my thoughts went to fabulous porches and reconstruction. Just across the covered bridge from us was a beautiful Victorian house that had a gorgeous wrap-around porch.

Running across the covered bridge through to the other side, the big old porch would greet me with its intricate architectural elements and I would daydream about sitting up there looking out at the river rapids. One morning, I took another running route and did not start my day passing the vacant 19th century home. Instead, a neighbor walked her dog and saw smoke coming from the home. I was already at work when I found out.

The house had been destroyed and was considered a complete loss. The charred porch, still showed signs of grandness.

This spring, demolition on that home began and we were able to purchase two of the salvaged columns. Drew rebuilt our porch and although it is small, we are very pleased that a piece of Jay's history is now a part of our home sweet home.

Thank you to Patti F for providing photos

Missing Porch

Do you know what it's like to come home after work and see that your porch has gone missing?

Um yeah, gone. Drew had timed it to so he could be secretly sitting in his car to see my expression when I pulled into the driveway. Yes, my mouth dropped. Now, the funny thing here is that I did not panic. Does this mean I'm starting to get used to these outrageous surprises?

I have to admit, when I came home one day to a cedar tree cut down without any previous discussion, I was mad. I thought it gave us some privacy and I loved being in bed and looking out at the birds in the tree. He did not have the same love for the cedar. Now, in place of the cedar tree we have a cauldron that he secretly purchased and dragged around the house leaving a trail.

Full disclosure here, I now love that the cedar tree is gone. Sitting around it with friends while a fire is going is one of my favorite activities.

Secret projects are something that I suppose I'm getting used to. Tearing up kitchen floors before I've wrapped my head around the idea of refinishing it and introducing saloon doors to me before I had fully investigated all the styles does frustrate me immensely, but it always turns out for the best.

But, back to this porch destruction thing... remember when our cat had gone missing this winter? We realized that the only place she could have gone in two feet of snow was under the porch. Drew was very close to tearing up the entire porch and mud room floor to rescue her. Luckily, she escaped on her own and came back in one piece, but we did not want it to happen again.

We had discussed the potential project of redoing the porch, but once again he went ahead without my knowledge and began demolition. He discovered the hole that Bella had fallen in.

I discovered that I would not have any stairs going into my home. My friend Elizabeth, the next morning discovered she could not drop something off to us. She called and said, "I don't mean to alarm you, but it appears as if your porch has been stolen." Yes I am well aware of the porch situation, nothing was stolen, it's called having a handy husband.

Lost Cat in Two Feet of Snow?

After getting two feet of snow in the last 24 hours, this is what everyone in our neck of the woods dealt with in the morning.

Normally we love this kind of accumulation and have thoughts of rare powder days at Whiteface, but if I couldn't make it into work because of unsafe conditions, we probably shouldn't risk our lives driving in it for one day of fun in the snow. Um yeah, when did we smarten up?

In the middle of all the snow excitement, our cat Bella decided to venture out and turned up missing. We were puzzled because there was nowhere for her to go and the paw prints along the house all stopped and back tracked.

We came to three conclusions: 1) she died in a kitty avalanche 2) an owl scooped down and took her away from us or 3) she wanted nothing to do with the snow and hid under the porch and got stuck. We called and shook her treats for half the morning and just when we were getting ready to tear up the porch floor boards in the middle of a snow storm, we heard her meow. She had come from the depths of the underground porch world covered in cobwebs, not snow. Hopefully she'll spend the rest of her life in the prison of our home.

My Green Goddess Oatmeal Experiment

My mother gave me a slow cooker last summer and just recently in this cold month of January have I started using it. I'm not a big fan of chunks of meat in stews and such so I have been searching for recipes that take little prep work. This past week, I checked out from the library the cookbook, Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker, Recipes for Two and fell in love with the overnight oatmeal recipes. The author convinced me that once I had made the magical oatmeal, I would never want to go back to instant.

Green Goddess, the natural food store in Lake Placid was first on my list to start gathering the ingredients for the Cinnamon-Apple Oatmeal I wanted to make.

The recipe called for steel-cut oats and dried apple rings. This is the perfect place to get those items because they have a great selection of bulk foods and I find it to be way cheaper than getting them pre-packaged from any other grocery store.

After purchasing the oatmeal ingredients along with my beloved Tamari Almonds (not needed for the recipe), I was good to go.

That night, I turned the slow cooker on low and combined the oats, apple pie spice, salt, water and dried apples and went to bed. I was so excited about eating the delicious oatmeal, I could barely sleep. For real. I was like a kid on Christmas eve, tossing and turning all night long. I convinced myself that the house smelled like apple pie and that I was in for a big treat. I mean, can you imagine waking up and having a fabulous bowl of oatmeal waiting for you on a cold morning?

Finally the sun came up and I raced down the stairs, lifted the lid and saw a perfectly cooked, creamy porridge. I spooned it into my bowl, took one taste and BLECH! No taste. None what so ever. It was just a bland tasting rib-sticking bowl of oatmeal. The apple pie spices didn't come through at all and the apple rings lost all their flavor.

I don't think the oatmeal was overcooked, the consistency was fine, just no taste. I added way more brown sugar than the recipe called for at the end and it still didn't help it. Being disappointed is an understatement, not with Green Goddess, but with the morning glop.

Everyone keeps praising their slow cookers, but I have yet to be convinced of their powers. So, if anyone out there knows about any good recipes cooking on low for 8-9 hours for dinner or breakfast, please fill me in on your slow cooker successes.

Christmas Tree Mission 2010

After last year's $7 bargain tree, we refused to pay the going rate of $25 - 50 and decided we'd take a walk in the woods with a saw in hand. Don't worry, we had permission at a secret location in Keene.

We contemplated cutting down a conjoined twin tree, but their trunks were connected at the very bottom and it would have made the tree stand's job difficult.

The forest was scattered with tons of scraggly looking trees that we considered, but we kept on hiking in search of the "perfect" tree. We also kept thinking the tops of the trees looked the best, so that is exactly what we did.

We found a medium sized tree that had dead branches on the bottom and a decent sized top. Drew sawed the tree down and then proceeded to cut it in half. The top half fell on my head, but I don't think it caused any damage. Here's the trimmed up tree being held by its proud owner.

We thought we had done a pretty good job until our 6 year old friend came over and said, "Where are you supposed to put the ornaments? There aren't any branches."

After decorating it, I think we proved her wrong. For a free tree, it looks pretty dang good.

Rosa Gets a Little Help From Ward Lumber

Something magical happened today. Rosa drove into the garage for the first time! However, she struggled moving over the cement entrance because of its unevenness. Luckily, we live just down the road from Ward Lumber and thought if we could buy some gravel and spread it over the dips it would be a smooth ride in and out for her.

Since most people aren't doing the landscaping thing at this time of year, the only option was a bag of white marble gravel. After purchasing a 50 pound bag, they called on the radio for someone to meet us with a forklift at Building Two because it had been put "up in the air" for the winter.

While waiting, Drew spotted what we needed and maneuvered the bag down himself.

Just as he was bringing the marble down, the forklift showed up. The worker just shook his head and said the same thing we were thinking, "All this for just a bag of marble. A bit overkill, huh?"

Ward Lumber always provides the best service and continues to go above and beyond. They continue to impress me, even if it is just a $4 bag of marble to help Rosa.

Eek! The First Sound of Winter

The seasons have changed.

I'm not talking about seeing the first snowfall accumulation on Friday and hearing my husband rustle around in his ski pants at 5:00 am the next morning to ski up the Toll Road before work. The sound of winter is a noise that wakes me from a sound sleep at 3:30 am and makes me lose sleep. The noise of mice scurrying in our bedroom ceiling. It happened. Last night.

In bed I feared the worst and could not fall back asleep. Thoughts ran through my head. Could this little animal gnaw through the ceiling and fall on me while I sleep? I haven't seen any droppings and the fun size Snickers haven't been touched, maybe I'm just hearing things.

Just when I convinced myself that it must have been the wind against the window, I heard some more scurrying. I let out an Eek! and quickly covered my head with the covers and nudged my husband who simply rolled over and said, "There's nothing I can do right now." Geez, thanks for comforting me. At least I had the cat on the other side to protect me.

There you have it folks, the first sound of Winter. Tonight after work I will buy some peppermint oil and cotton balls and madly place them around the house because apparently mice hate the smell. I will also start researching how to shoot mice with a gun that I don't yet own. As for Drew, you better believe he'll be setting the traps with peanut butter.

Friday's Flight of Stairs

This post is another little glimpse into our home renovation progress for friends and family that won't be visiting our stairwell along the Ausable anytime soon. Oh, and I can't forget the maniacs out there like me that spend hours looking these silly things up on the internet. I thought I'd share with you our latest house project, painted and stenciled stairs.

Years ago, even before moving, I had ripped out a page from Country Home Magazine and kept it in a folder. Turns out, my sister tore out the same picture for me. I never knew if we'd have stairs some day, let alone ones we could paint as beautiful as these stairs I drooled over in a magazine.

Turns out we ended up with a narrow painted grey stairwell that was sandwiched in by lovely wood panelling. We ripped down the faux wood (correction, Drew ripped it down), and went to work on new walls. It's been a long process, but I was patient waiting to get up close and personal with the stairs.

Before

AND

After

So, there you have it, our flight of stairs painted in green with a stencil on the risers. Does this mean I can finally recycle that magazine picture?

We have one more day of driving the cats insane by locking them up and sealing the stairs with a polyurethane. Yeah, that's fun. Um, not. Oh well, Happy Friday!

p.s. If anyone out there would like our extra gallon of Louisville Mint Julep floor paint, let me know!

Musty Smell Solution for Furniture

I used to spray myself with Gingerale Perfume until my sister started accusing me of smelling like an old dirty basement. Yup, my family tells it like it is. Straight up honesty, like soda bubbles up your nose.

As much as I loved the scent, I certainly didn't want to smell musty. That goes for my husband too. We recently acquired an old dresser for him, but my nose immediately detected the scent of that Gingerale Perfume and so I went to work researching how to spare his clothing from smelling musty.

I realize that this is probably far too much background information and this really has nothing to do with being along the Ausable, but in case anyone else out there has searched high and low for answers on how to eliminate musty smells from antique furniture, I now present you with a solution.

1. Put furniture outside on a hot, sunny day to let it breathe.

2. Clean out all the dirt with a rag and vacuum out any remaining debris.

3. Using a diluted water and Murphy Oil Soap solution, wipe down the entire dresser and let air dry in the sun.

4. Put trays of baking soda in the drawers for 24 hours.

5. Dump out the baking soda and then put Activated Charcoal on baking trays inside the drawers and dresser for at least a week.

Activated Charcoal can be purchased at any Pet Store. We found it in the Fish section. I guess it makes aquarium water crystal clear and removes organic waste, colors and odor. Drew read somewhere that one gram of charcoal is equivalent to the surface area of 1/10 the size of a football field!

6. Remove charcoal trays and give the furniture another wipe down and it should be ready to store clothing!

So far, it seems to have worked. Cross your fingers for us that we have found the solution and if your nose tells you we haven't, please be honest and tell my husband he smells like an old, dirty basement as my sister once told me.

Detective Case #1: Gnome Lights

Recently I've been reading the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series and have been obsessed with thinking I too could be a really good female detective. Last week I had to get a new cell phone and decided on a black phone because it would be inconspicuous, just like a private eye would have and I even chose the Inspector Gadget theme song as my ring tone. No joke.

Tonight, I have my first case to solve. I wandered outside to call in the cat and as I turned the corner shaking his food bowl, there glowing in our cedar tree were some gnome lights!

I knocked on our living room window to show Drew my excitement and he acted surprised. I thought for sure when he was outside trying to get the cat in and I talked to my friend Lori inside behind the curtains that he was busy stringing lights. He claims it wasn't him.

Lori had already left when I discovered all this and I immediately called her cell phone. The connection wasn't the clearest and I thought for sure she said, "Gnome it wasn't me, I don't gnome what you're talking about." I asked her if she was saying NO or GNOME, it wasn't clear. I hadn't seen her in awhile and she did just kind of show up at my house acting a little strange, but that's not that unusual. No offense Lori. Really? Were you really "just in the neighborhood?"

Why isn't anyone owning up to gifting me with these fabulous gnomes?

The first person I would suspect just flew across the country to go rock climbing, so it's not her. The second suspect lives in Finland, and I don't think she'd fly all the way here to string up some lights without saying hello.

What would Mma Ramotswe of the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency from Botswana do? I looked for other clues. I noticed the empty box in the garage and there were no hints to where it was purchased. However, the person did place it on the table near our Recyclables, so it makes me think it is someone that is organized. I started calling other suspects and no one is fessing up.

It troubles me that friends and family members that have been accused of trespassing and stringing gnomes on our property tonight have laughed at my inability to solve my first detective case. I don't have the equipment to do finger printing, but I do know enough that I am 100% sure that this person contains the "awesome" gene.

This case is not closed. If you have any information or possible leads, please contact me.

Desperately Seeking Help with Herbs!

Every year I plant herbs with the intention of using them. I always think that I'll try them in different recipes, but who am I kidding, I'm not much of a cook. I started to feel kind of guilty that I was mostly using them as a background to various vintage finds.

The guilt finally got to be too much for me and I started cutting and picking the herbs to make some refreshing sun tea and pesto.

I read that I should use about 1/4 c. fresh herbs per cup of water. I washed and salad spinned lemon thyme and pineapple mint and then left it in the sun for hours.

After, I chilled both jars in the refrigerator and strained the herbs. I first tried the pineapple mint tea and pretended that I liked it. Drew sipped it and without trying to spare my feelings said, "It's not for me."

Next up, Lemon Thyme Tea. Much better than the pineapple mint, but it was still nothing special. They both tasted a little bit too earthy. Not like dirt, but maybe like drinking twig water. I don't know if honey or a simple syrup would make it any better. Should I have not let the herbs bathe in the water overnight and do you think a green tea bag might help things? Maybe the pineapple mint should be used in a mojito because doesn't rum make everything better?

Oh, and I made the pesto and it was also below average. I used a simple recipe with basil leaves, olive oil, parmesan, garlic, and walnuts.

It turned out to be a little too dry and garlicky and it kind of looked like poop. I guess next time I'd just add a little bit more olive oil and one less clove of garlic, but I don't think that's the problem.

What do you all do with your herbs? Do you have any good herbal sun tea recipes and what's your secret to a fabulous pesto?

Antique-Aholics Anonymous

Hi my name is Big Al and I'm an Antique-Aholic.

Like so many other addictions, mine started in College. I would sneak out of my dorm room early on Saturday mornings and head to auctions. At one point, I convinced a professor to provide me with money for my habit and found myself buying one too many dinnerware sets for an upcoming play.

More than ten years later, I'm noticing that I still have an addiction.I frequently find myself having conversations that center around my problem and I brag about what I find and how little it cost me. Bragging is not a behavioral quality to be proud about.

$1 wicker chair!

I regularly am in search of "good stuff" upon awakening and it has interfered with my work schedule. Having to work on the weekend gets in the way of 9 am yard sales. No early birds? Whatever, that phrase doesn't exist in my world of antique dependence.

Flower Frogs and Flower Pins

I have had periods of time when I can't remember what I did. Recently, I blacked out at an auction and lost out on a ladies rocker that I sat hours waiting for. I became obsessed with finding another one and couldn't think about anything else until I finally found one for a steal at a flea market one month later.

I sometimes have family members or close friends go with me so I can experience a rush when they score.

Yes, I did get excited over my husband ending his week long search for a punch clock.

Recently, I went so far as to fulfill another addicts wish and sent a package all the way to Atlanta, Georgia!

Experts say you should try to give something up and not experience physical or emotional distress for 6 weeks. I can't even imagine the shakes that might happen if I were to try.

Labor Day is only a month away and my opportunities will soon be limited to Etsy and Ebay and this brings a great amount of anxiety to me. Can I stay off the wagon a little bit longer? Speaking of wagons, check out what I did with the Radio Flyer I got for free at the Town Dump.

The weekend is right around the corner and I have to be honest, I'm really jonesing for my next fix. It helps that I don't have any cash in my wallet right now, but the yard sale sign on our corner is taunting me.