Pictured in the foreground of this aerial photo is the New England Baptist Hospital. Jeanine had an MRI there this afternoon and requested that I drive her to the appointment. I brought my drone with me to help pass the time, and if not for the positively frigid temperatures, I would have spent more time flying.
Not satisfied with the structural properties of this year’s Christmas popovers, Jeanine enlisted Maya’s help to try new recipe refinements and variations in cooking temperature and time. The pair spent hours in the effort and finally produced what I, an official taste tester, deem to be the best popovers ever. Once the optimal outcome was achieved, Maya documented every aspect of the formulation and process. Regretably, she rejected my suggestion to name these creations – Momayas, a concatenation of “mom” and “Maya.”
After recent street work, downtown Concord’s pedestrian crosswalks got a bright new coat of paint. I like the bold color, but I question the need for a trapezoidal outline to define a “T” shaped intersection. Try as I might, I have yet to find an aerial perspective that “captures” the essence of our downtown area. Perhaps that is what makes it so quaint.
It has been two years since I last made improvements to my shop, a process I call shoptimization. Over the last few days, I have completed another round triggered by my desire for a larger assembly bench. The new bench is 72″ x 39″ compared to my previous bench which was 60″ x 30″. The top and legs are made of solid oak, and the bottom shelf has poplar sides and a Baltic birch surface. I have yet to complete two massive full-extension drawers (53″ x 30″ x 3-1/2″) that will sit immediately under the top. The legs and drawers will be set back from the edge by 3-1/2″ to allow for clamping, and I will add a 10-1/2″ vise to the back left corner. The legs are fitted with ratcheting levelers that double as mobility casters.
Because of the increased bench width, I decided to relocate my tool chest from the “clamp wall” to the northeast corner, reclaiming 20 inches of clearance for the back side aisle. I added two low-profile shelving units (made from remnants of a kitchen island we replaced while living in Indianapolis). The one on the left will be used to store sanding and pneumatic nailing consumables. The one on the right will be used for frequently used hand tools and hex shank bits for my cordless drivers. Finally, I will relocate all of my layout and measurement tools from the tool chest to the bench drawers, making them immediately accessible.
One of the many gifts I received from Nicolai for Christmas was a coupon for a pancake breakfast. Today, the entire family, plus Teddy, gathered to help me enjoy the feast. Should Nico ever tire of being an educator, he has a certain future as a chef. At the risk of getting in trouble with Jeanine, I must confess that these were the best buttermilk pancakes I have ever eaten. I was offered the first batch off the griddle and could not be made to wait for the accompanying bacon and fruit before making short work of this short stack. There was considerable discussion at the breakfast table about making this event a permanent New Year’s Day tradition going forward.
Our entire neighborhood was covered with a thin layer of ice this morning, making for treacherous walking and driving conditions. Nevertheless, tomorrow is trash collection day, and it was necessary to roll our garbage and recycling bins out to the street. Laden with holiday packaging and other waste, the wheels left distinctive tracks in the black ice, making for what I deemed an interesting photo.
Our perfect tree, once a shimmering tower of balsam and light, stood naked and skeletal against the window. With Christmas behind us, I worked methodically with my electric shears, cutting through every green bough until only a bare, tapering spine remained. What was once the centerpiece of our living room now lay in a neat heap on the floor. These salvaged branches, still fragrant with the scent of pine, are destined for the porch fire pit; soon, the very tree that warmed our spirits inside will be warming our faces under the cold starlight of a future evening.
A pristine blanket of fresh snow softens every edge of our patio furniture. Beyond this silent space, the world shifts from soft to solid. The river has ceased its flow, an icy reflection of the gray sky. Framing the view are bare branches, each encased in clear ice acting like tiny prisms to catch the weak rays of the morning light.
It is virtually impossible for me to part with even the smallest scraps of wood. I know that I will eventually find a use for each and every piece. The problem is how to store them in the meantime. Today, I began to address that challenge by constructing two racks to store plywood remnants, sorted by width to make finding the right piece easy. In the coming days or weeks, I hope to do the same for my solid wood off cuts.
Despite being short on proper beds, we were thrilled that the kids chose to spend another night with us. It was late morning before everyone rolled out of bed, and coffee was the first order of business. When I noticed Jeanine’s shadow on the cabinets in our great room, I encouraged Nico to lean into the scene and captured this photo of them. I really like the way it turned out.
Jeanine shows off her famous popovers, and Maya her new hiking boots.
Nico and Teddy model their matching bear sweaters.
Kyle is ready for some exercise in his new running glasses.
I was in charge of cooking a rib roast for dinner. It was not a half-bad effort for my first time. Food and game playing consumed most of the day.
Maya arrived this afternoon with a Peace Dove to top our Christmas tree, a change from the angel or star we usually use. In these times, it seemed most appropriate. Her father ensured she did not fall from the ladder as she placed the ornament, a white dove with an olive branch in its beak. The photo was taken by Jeanine’s sister, Susan, who is staying with us for several days, along with her friend Jean. The kids are all here, as well as Nicolai’s girlfriend, Nicole, whom I will refer to as Teddy going forward.
We enjoyed Raclette for dinner, a communal meal centered around melting and scraping cheese, traditionally over boiled potatoes, cured meats, and pickled vegetables like cornichons. It has been our traditional Christmas Eve dinner ever since our local Chinese restaurant closed. We used to dine there with the Budris family.
‘Twas two nights before Christmas, and all through the house, the air smelled of baking, no doubt by my spouse. The tree lights were twinkling, the stockings hung tight, each ribbon and bauble reflecting the light. I poured us some glögg, the cinnamon bold, and marveled at memories—new ones and old. Then, out in the yard, came a rustling sound; the recycling bin had been knocked to the ground! But wait—through the shadows, a scuttling thunk. No raccoon at all, but that flowerbed punk! The woodchuck—my rival, my furry torment— Had come back for vengeance, or maybe just scent. He snorted and waddled, as bold as could be, then looked in my eyes, quite unbothered by me. The cone flowers he’d leveled flashed back in my mind— last spring’s devastation of the botanical kind. I dashed to the closet, adrenaline high, my trusty air rifle glinting close by. I pumped it up twice, then three times—no fear— and crept through the moonlight, my quarry quite near. He froze by the trash can, then vanished from sight— a ghost in the snow, a brown blur in the night. I fired! It ricocheted straight off the bin, and startled the neighbors (and probably him). Now back in my slippers, my pride slightly dented, I pondered the duel that fate had fermented. The beast lives to burrow, to mock, and to feast— and I, the defeated, salute the fat beast.
For many years, I have eschewed wrapping Christmas gifts in fancy paper just to have it discarded in the trash. Saved paper grocery bags have been my go-to substitute. This year, I have turned my recycling efforts in a new direction. For many presents, I utilized leftovers from my shop to fashion custom “gift enclosures.” Unlike wrapping paper, opening these gifts will take some time and may require the use of tools. In the case of the one pictured above, the post “unwrapping” remnants might make an interesting toy for Maya’s cats. For the record, Jeanine fails to see the humor or Christmas spirit in my conservation efforts. Just wait till she sees how I “wrapped” her present this year!