Hot Cross Buns

How can I not post a picture of these beauties? I made them using my old recipe, but mixed the dough in my bread machine and let it do the work up until the second rising. Then I took it out, shaped the rolls, let them rise, and baked them in the regular oven. They were just as good as if I had done them the old fashioned way. In the interest of weight watching, I made half the recipe. I ate one right out of the oven, froze one for later, and took these four over to David's for dinner. 

Easter

Thom sent this bouquet of flowers for Easter and they arrived through a cooperative effort of several nice people in Eastport who hated to see them spend the holiday in a restaurant cooler. I wasn't home when the florist tried to deliver them. When David and I came in from shopping for Easter dinner, two different messages on the machine lamented the fact that the flowers remained unclaimed. The shop was going to be closed for the rest of the day, and I would have to pick them up Monday. They were to be left in the cooler of the restaurant next door. David knew that Thom had sent them, and we were very disappointed that we wouldn't have them for Easter.

The next morning I got a call from John Pike Grady, who was at the resstaurant cleaning up. He noticed the flowers and called me up. He said he would wait for me to come get them if I wanted to, so I got in the car and went after them. On the phone he had told me it was a "very handsome bouquet" and he was right. I took this picture before I took it over to David's where we used it as the centerpiece for our dinner.

David has been here since last Thursday. I was very happy to see him and made quiche from Demeter and Hannah's eggs for his welcome dinner. Yesterday we had a traditional Easter meal of baked ham with pineapple,sweet potatoes, asparagus, and hot cross buns. For desert, strawberries with cream and sherbet. Both of us are trying to keep the calories down, so we opted out of a more elaborate and fattening feast, though the one we had was far from one of deprivation. Everything was delicious as usual. The silver candlesticks and linen tablecloth were resurrected, the seagulls wandered around the back yard, the lights twinkled on across the water on Campobello. Spring has come to Eastport. 

Near Disaster

Yesterday morning I finished making the chicken pen secure by placing the garden staples I had bought last year around the bottom of the wire. They are just what they sound like, huge staples that stick into the ground, holding the wire in place. I let Hannah and Demeter out, where they happily spent the day. As I came home from buying milk at about six o'clock I saw Lynn walking Mike along the street. We had talked about getting Mike and Patrick together for a "play date" so I thought I would hurry home before she passed my house and get Patrick outside to meet Mike.

I rushed into the house and snapped a leash on Patrick. The other dogs, of course, thought they were going, too, and leapt at the door. It takes only a modicum of imagination to imagine what happened next. Benny bolted through the door and headed around the house and straight for the chickens. I managed to keep Lytton from following and ran (yes, RAN) after Benny, Patrick in tow. I found him snarling and jumping against the chicken fence, certainly putting my security measures to the test. Demeter and Hannah were in a state, clucking and screaming, but flapping around the yard rather than running in the house. I managed to get Benny by the collar and pull him away, though he resisted and struggled, trying to bite me until I talked him down. Just as I was rounding the corner of the house toward the front, Lytton streaked past, having opened the front door himself (it doesn't latch). I watched him go toward the back yard helplessly, my hands full of dogs already. Either he didn't see the chickens or he wasn't interested, because he took off behind the neighbors' houses down toward Water Street. It's the first time I've been happy to see that happen.

I dumped Patrick and Benny in the house, closing the doors securely, grabbed another leash, went out to the back yard and put the chickens in their house, and went after Lytton. By that time he had run back up the street and was running up toward Mitchell street, where he was apprehended without much of a struggle. I took him back home, got Patrick and walked down to Lynn's, where we had a peaceful visit over a cup of tea. The dogs got along well.

New Chicken Pen

I decided that today was the day to expand the chicken pen. The weather is getting better and the chickens need to be able to get outside. Last week I bought the materials I needed to make the fence, but they were still in the back of the car. At about three o'clock I dragged the rolls of wire and the eight posts out to the back yard. It took about five trips back to the house to assemble all the tools I needed, but at least I had the tools, thanks to David's Christmas presents last year. I also had to take out my kitchen step stool. I am too short to pound in the posts without standing on something.

I let the chickens out while I worked, which meant that I had to keep the old fence in tact while I erected the new one. It's a tecnique I seem to favor in many chores that I do, such as changing sheets one corner at a time so that the bed is never exposed to the ravages of the dogs who dive for any exposed portion of the foam mattress pad. Animals don't seem to notice that changes are being made if they occur this way. Of course it takes twice as long to do things.

The new, taller, posts went into the ground fairly easily because the ground is muddy and soft this time of year. In fact, the whole job was pretty easy. My new wire cutters worked so much easier than scissors. I even liked the fact that the handles of all of the tools are yellow and therefore easy to find once they inevitably disappear. After the new perimeter had been established, I removed the old boundary. No children could have rewarded their mother more than Demeter and Hannah as they immediately raced into the new space as if they had been waiting in great anticipation. They explored every corner. Over in the dog yard hysteria reigned as the chickens moved into new territory. Benny dug furiously under the gate, Patrick stood on his hind legs with his front feet scratching the fence, Lytton ran to the porch for a better view and barked. They all lost interest when I mentioned supper, though, and I'm sure it was only the newness of the situation that stirred them up. They have come to accept the chickens pretty well at a distance as long as protocol is observed by all concerned.

I picked up my trash, put the chickens in, fed the dogs, and felt good about my accomplishment. I was glad to be where I am and chose not to think of the future.