Sow There!

As per the agreement with my friends and family, we decided to exchange perishable items this Christmas. Instead of braving the crowds and chaos at the mall and big-box stores, I combed the baking aisle at the grocery store.
The week before Christmas, Tommy would pull the dining room chair into the kitchen so he could talk to me as melted, stirred and poured.
For the past several years the Enterprise-Record has held a dessert contest. About half a dozen folks bring in some delectable and we all have a nibble and then vote. One of the best treats was from Terri, who would have won first place but there were lots of other fabulous treats in the contest.
After nearly melting in ecstasy after tasting her no-bake-rocky-road-bars, I cornered her to rattle off the recipe:
A bag of chocolate chips, half a bag of butterscotch chips, one stick of butter, half a cup of peanut butter. Melt until gooey and then stir in miniature marshmallows and Rice Krispies.
Easy enough.
With one success on my hands I thought I would get crafty.
Tommy said his mom always made fudge when he was a kid so I thought I would wow him with my superwoman baking prowess.
Thinking I would mail off big boxes of the stuff back to Iowa to impress his loved ones, I made a double batch.
For some unknown reason, the fudge didn’t harden like it was supposed to. Instead it was like a super-sticky pudding.
I ended up melting more chocolate chips and sort of rolling a spoonful of the mushy mess into the chocolate to make it stick together. They were quite delicious but looked like they were made by a three year old or produced by an enormous rabbit.
With three Corningware dishes filled with the leftover mush — large Corningware dishes — I thought if I baked the black stuff maybe the chocolate would harden.
This turned out to be another mistake. The concoction was so hard it could have been used for chocolate asphalt in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.
A week later, the pans are still soaking on the kitchen counter.
It turns out chocolate is trickier than I thought. It’s actually somewhat of a science and I think somewhere they probably offer a bachelor’s in chocolate arts.
Then I tried the microwave version of peanut brittle.
The end product was yummy, but it never got “brittle.� Instead it had the consistency of a fruit roll-up.
After botching mass amounts of baking supplies, we went to the library and I checked out some books and learned why the recipe I had used for the fudge had suggested using a candy thermometer.
There was an entire chapter that detailed how not only does chocolate need to melt correctly, at specific temperatures, but it also needs to cool correctly, at specific temperatures.
I knew that most of the dismally deformed treats would be appreciated by my family. It was Christmas and nobody is going to go out of their way to tell you what a failure you are. Of course not, they’ll save that for saying behind your back.
Then, an enormous box arrived from Tommy’s sister Deb in Iowa.
My skin still felt saturated with sugar after four straight nights of baking. There was a sickening sweet smell at the back of my nostrils and the concrete fudge was still staring at me from the corner of the counter.
We opened the “Deb box.� Each perfectly formed loaf of banana and pumpkin bread was neatly wrapped in foil. Somehow she froze it so that when it was shipped it arrived perfectly moist.
Then there were the bags of peanut brittle, which snapped into bite-sized bits ready to pop into your mouth.
Next were the seven-layer “miracle bars,� that didn’t fall apart all over the floor when you took a bite of them.
Of course, there was fudge — the perfect kind of fudge where all you need is one little nibble to make your toes curl as you roll your eyes back in your head.
Christmas day I answered the phone and was having a nice chat with Tommy’s mom. She asked about yada-yada and we talked about yada-yada. The question came up about whether we had received the gifts the family had sent.
“Yes,� I couldn’t help but snort out. “I baked all week with terrible results and then that witch Deb sent us a box of perfect treats.�
Of course I didn’t use the word “witch.�
Turns out, I wasn’t talking to Tommy’s mom. His sister and mom sound very similar on the phone.
Thankfully, she burst out laughing.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 04:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

That last half-hour of sleep is the most sacred. People are in bed and relishing those last few moments of warmth, hopefully snuggled against a loved one. Jammies are warm and soft against your skin and you can see the sun barely peeking out the sides of the curtains. You look at the clock and know you have that magical half-hour to squirm and contemplate what the dream featuring Matthew McConaughey might have meant.

Then the leaf blower starts.
Your skin turns Grinch-like green. Your head shakes and you can’t believe the universe does not understand how sacred this last half-hour is.
How could someone be up and firing up a gas-powered engine at this time of day? Where is the law? Where is common decency? Where is Spider-Man?
I know this seems like hysteria. But seriously, the leaf blower this time of year is heard nearly every morning.
Later we were told that technically the laws allow hideously-obnoxious sounds to begin at 7 a.m.
Now, I can understand this for construction workers in summertime. They need to get started as soon as possible because it’s 107 degrees in summer and 112 on the roof by noon.

(This is actually an electric leaf blower, only slightly less obnoxious than the gas-powered version of the evil beast).

But leaf blowers in winter? If they’re up early, they’re working at one of the worst times of the day.
My head is shaking back and forth so much in wonderment that I’m sure a tooth is loose.
One morning Tommy and I were subconsciously auditioning for the Olympic snuggling competition. I was zoning out and listening to the wind blowing through the birch tree. Then I heard that distinctive sound of a gas-fueled engine.
No, it was not directly outside my door, but it sounded like the operator was blowing that dastardly machine directly into my eardrum. I imagined his maniacal sneer.
I turned a gummed-up eyelid toward the digital clock and saw that it was 6:19 a.m. Wait, I set my clock 10 minutes ahead so it was actually 6:09. Is there some daylight saving time that I don’t know about?
I did the patented Hacking elbow move and woke Tommy up.
“It’s 6:09 and someone is blowing leaves.�
He understood the urgency of my directive and padded outside to talk to the operator.
Soon the gas-powered monster was subdued. Be assured, no violence was involved.
Sadly, there is no price tag that can be given to that precious last half-hour of sleep. If there was, I would have sued.
Like jet skis, I’m sure leaf blowers are fun to use, in a sadistic sort of way.
Here’s a list of other most-annoying morning sounds.
• Garbage collectors.
• Enloe Flightcare, although one can’t complain because they’re important to saving lives.
• Neighbor Curious George when he is bonded to his power tools.
• The feral cat that sets the dogs off barking.
• Snoring that sounds like honking birds and rivals the entire Pacific, Central and Atlantic flyways.
• The neighbor who warms up their ridiculously huge truck at 3,500 rpm.
Needless to say, I’m rallying for a change in laws about leaf blowers. I understand their usefulness, for helping with liability around walkways.
However, given the right circumstances, leaves will just turn into compost and enrich the soil. They can also be used for crunching and weed suppression, although leaves should always be raked from the lawn.

Shorter nights/longer days
Thursday was the winter solstice. Although the day marks the beginning of winter, it also represents the shortest day of sunlight of the year. This is an opportunity to rejoice and think about the fact that the days are now getting longer.
As usual, I was late in getting my spring-bloom bulbs in the ground this year. I put the tulips in the back of the fridge for chilling, then of course forgot about them.
I was reminded of them when a friend brought me another bag of them. Plus, the daffodils planted several years ago already have stems about 12 inches long, which jogged my memory.
Because the tulips weren’t planted until mid-December, I won’t expect fabulous results. They have a tendency to be gobbled up by the neighborhood squirrels.
Normally I would compost, but composting can’t be guaranteed to kill all the weed seeds unless you have your turning, aerating and watering techniques down. I use(d) an old flimsy metal bucket to cart heinous weeds to the green waste can.
Tommy apparently misunderstood me when I said we couldn’t plant a bunch of bulbs in the old tin bucket because there wasn’t proper drainage.
Somehow, when I had my back turned, he proudly returned with the bucket, to which he had punched a bunch of holes in the bottom with a hammer and nail.
Ah well, I guess we’ll have to look for a new bucket at the thrift stores, and will have a nice, big pot of tulips at some point in the spring.
In the past, I have planted tulips too late and then the tree canopy reaches out and the tulips have to stretch to get the sun they need.
With a pot, you can just move it around in the yard to help the tulips stand up tall.
There’s some cool, basic info about tulips on a British Web site at: http://tulips.blomsbulbs.com.
Thanks to all the readers who sent in holiday treat recipes, including a really bizarre one fans should enjoy. (Hint: It has to do with kitty litter).

Posted by Heather Hacking at 11:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Hilarious gag cake recipe

And we mean "gag" in more ways than one.

Thanks to our reader for sharing this.

KITTY LITTER CAKE

Ingredients:

1 Spice or German Chocolate Cake Mix
1 White Cake Mix
1 Pkg White Sandwich Cookies
1 large pkg Vanilla Instant Pudding Mix
Green food coloring
12 Small Tootsie Rolls
1 new kitty liter box
1 new kitty litter box plastic liner
1 new pooper scooper

Prepare cake mixes and bake according to directions (any size pans).
Prepare pudding mix and chill until ready to assemble.
Crumble white sandwich cookies in small batches in blender; they
tend to stick, so scrape often.
Set aside all but about _ cup.
To the _ cup cookie crumbs, add a few drops green food coloring and
mix using a fork or shake in a jar.
When cakes are cooled to room temperature, crumble into a large
bowl.
Toss with half the remaining white cookie crumbs and the chilled
pudding.
You probably won’t need all of the pudding. Mix with the cake and
“feel� it; you don’t want it soggy, just moist. Gently combine.
Line new, clean kitty litter box. Put mixture into litter box.
Put three unwrapped Tootsie rolls in a microwave safe dish and heat
until soft and pliable.

Shape ends so they are no longer blunt, curving slightly.
Repeat with 3 more Tootsie rolls and bury in mixture.
Sprinkle the other half of cookie crumbs over top.
Scatter the green cookie crumbs lightly over the top; this is
supposed to look like the chlorophyll in kitty litter.
Heat remaining Tootsie Rolls, 3 at a time in the microwave until
almost melted.
Scrape them on top of the cake and sprinkle with cookie crumbs.
This is my addition-only: spread 5 of the remaining Tootsie Rolls
over the top; take one and heat until pliable, hang it over the side of the
kitty litter box; sprinkling it lightly with cookie crumbs.
Place the box on a newspaper and sprinkle a few of the cookie
crumbs around.
Serve with a new pooper scooper.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

FROM MY LOYAL READER, DOT:

Here is my favorite cookie recipe for any occassion. It's not exotic, but is so easy and the options are many.
1 small pkg Jello instant pudding. The flavor of the pudding determines the flavor of the cookies.
1 egg 1/4 c. oil 1 c. Bisquick
Mix all together well. Take a spoonful of dough and roll into ball. Flatten with fork. Bake 8 min. in 350* oven.
After I flatten the ball, I usually add a few chips (choc, butterscotch, etc) or redhots or sprinkles. If you use the pistachio pudding and put red sprinkles on it, you have a very festive Christmas cookie.

Dot

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A READER NAMED SUE SENT IN THIS GREAT RECIPE FOR MEXICAN FIESTA BALLS, JUST IN TIME TO WHIP UP FOR CHRISTMAS.

She said she found it in a 1972 edition of “Farm Journal’s Country Cookbook.�

Thanks Sue.

Mexican Fiesta Balls

1 c. butter
½ c. sugar
2 tsp. vanilla
2 c. sifted flour
¼ c. cocoa
1 Tblsp. Instant coffee powder
½ tsp. salt
1 c. chopped nuts
½ c. chopped, drained maraschino cherries (we use more and chop them coarsely)
Powdered sugar

Beat butter until light; gradually add sugar. Beat until light and fluffy. Add vanilla and beat to blend well.

Sift together flour, cocoa, coffee powder and salt; gradually add to creamed mixture. Blend in nuts and cherries; chill until easy to handle (I usually skip the chilling).

Shape dough into balls 1� in diameter and place 1� apart on ungreased baking sheet. Bake in a slow oven (325) 20 minutes. Remove cookies to cooling racks and, while warm, dust with powdered sugar (I sift it over all). Makes 5 dozen.

She said she bakes a double batch and lets her daughter take them to her friends. Isn't that what the holidays are all about? Sharing :)

Posted by Heather Hacking at 12:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sometimes you can get something for free.
Several weeks ago we harvested the morning glory seeds. Morning glories are among my favorite weeds. They’re actually detailed in the Sunset Garden Books “Problem Solver� book as an undesirable. One person’s undesirable is another person’s treasure.

Yes, I do yank them out of the ground unceremoniously when they start to choke the rose bushes. But I also cultivate them at the base of the trellis. In mid-summer, they are a marvel, reaching to the sky, weaving in and out of the tallest plants and somehow roping onto the birch tree.
About two weeks ago they withered in the cold weather and the papery pods of seeds were gnarled all over the high areas in the garden. We went out with a bowl and harvested the seed pods. I’ll plant a bunch of them this year in specific spots, and am also offering official Sow There! seeds to readers.
I can’t guarantee which colors you will receive. But if you e-mail your address, I’ll pop a handful in an envelope for you, while supplies last.
It’s safe to plant them around St. Patrick’s Day.

Sweet Christmas
Finally this year we’re having a mostly gift-free Christmas. There are many reasons to go gift-free, the first being that people are broke. When you’re broke it’s frustrating to try to buy for all the people you love. You think about your loved one and trudge out to the mall or cutesy shops downtown and discover that if you stay within your price range, you can afford diddly.
The point of a gift is that you want to find something that really fits the person you are buying for — something that will make them say “wow,� and feel warm and cozy that you really know them.
But then you come across one of those items, look at the price tag and feel miserable because you can’t afford to buy it.
I remember years in the past when I would whip out the credit card on impulse. I’d see something I thought my loved one would like and the purchase would equal half my grocery bill for the month. Then, I’d feel badly when I didn’t come across something equally perfect for another equally beloved relative.
I tend to think that Christmas extravagance should be saved for the children in our lives.
There are other reasons not to go hog-wild at holidays. Think of those embarrassing moments when the person opens the present and you can tell by the look on their face that they’re not impressed. Everyone makes nice and proclaims: “It’s wonderful,� “how thoughtful,� “how intuitive you are,� “It’s just what I need.�
But you know they can’t really be all that impressed by the clearance rack apron with a picture of Sponge Bob on the front.
You see their eyes wander into your gift bag to see if there is something else in there — something that actually might not be destined for the bag of things destined for the charity thrift store.
Next year when your sister is cleaning out her cupboards and offers you her giveaways, you see that bottle of overly-expensive bath salts you gave her three years ago.
We had good success with the drawing of names. That was actually really cool because you’d call Auntie Jeanne and she would tell you what cool thing to buy Uncle Lars, or Mom would call and ask me for a short list of things to recommend to my cousin Rannvi, who had pulled my name.
My friend Thor has a concept that if you find something that someone would really want, something you see that instantly makes you think of that person — you buy it and give it no matter what time of the year it is.
That seems far more civilized.

Pack on the pounds
This year my family has taken another step in the non-monetary celebration of the holiday and are only going to gift one another with perishables, i.e. baked goods.
Likely in a couple of months we’ll refocus our family get-togethers to involve rigorous exercise to melt off the poundage we put on.
Holidays are already hectic with conjuring up thoughtful things to write in Christmas cards, arranging time off to travel and attending holiday parties.
It’s really liberating this year to drive by 20th Street and take a side road to avoid all the mall traffic. I see all those minivans queued up to go to the mall and sort of chuckle to myself that I’m not in that mess.
Instead, I got a few recipe books from the library and have been spending almost every night in the kitchen.
There’s so many treats in the freezer that there’s basically no room in there to cram a frozen burrito.
Any readers who have some great and exotic recipes that don’t require power kitchen tools or too much expertise, feel free to e-mail or leave a comment on the Sow There! blog at www.norcalblogs.com/sowthere.
My family will appreciate it, as will readers.
I am, however, working on a present for Tommy. He works outside and I decided to make him a scarf. He was a little reluctant when I asked him if he would wear a scarf when he went out on the job. I think he thought I wanted to lend him my purple fleece one. But his eyes got a little misty when I asked him if he would wear a scarf if I made him one.
I don’t have time in my day to hide my needle and yarn, so I’m making it blatantly in front of him when we watch TV or drive in the car. Plus, I wanted him to approve of the color and texture. I picked out the Atlanta Braves blue yarn and plan to add some Atlanta Braves red. It’s slow coming and I likely won’t be done until January.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Darn it. This letter arrived at my desk in early October and got lost in the shuffle of column ideas written on bits of paper and press releases from shameless PR firms.

Donna wrote about her trial and error with tulip bulbs and found a tulip with which she has had great success.

Worth sharing.

In this neck of the woods we may feel like it's chilly all winter, but we really don't have the chill to make tulips come back the second year. Personally, I treat tulips as an annual bulb. They bloom beautifully the first year. If they aren't devoured by squirrels, then we get a paltry version of them the next year.

But Donna swears by Tulipa clusiana "lady or candy tulip."

Her note stated that they aren't as grand as regular tulips but the fact that they come back year after year in this climate makes up for that.

She orders from www.highcountrygardens.com.

A web search turned up info. that due to low-chilling needs the tulip will even produce multiple years in the Bay Area.

It also spreads underground and will replicate without being invasive. Maybe we could even give up a few to the squirrels if it multiplies.

Thanks Donna.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My step-mom Lynda read the recent Sow There! about Christmas trees and sent me a link to the Department of Agriculture Rocky Mountain Region Web site.

As there are cocktails for most occasions, there apparently is a cocktail for freshly-cut Christmas trees. Who knew?

This one is a fire-proofing concoction for freshly-cut trees.

I have my doubts whether this will work for Christmas trees purchased from tree-lots, but let me know if you have results.

Fireproofing Mixture

2 gals. of hot water
2 cups corn syrup
2 oz. liquid bleach
2 pinches Epsom salts
1/2 tsp. borax
1 tsp. chelated iron (garden shop)
How does this fireproofing work?

The corn syrup provides sugar, which allows the tree to soak up a lot of water. Without sugar, only a small amount of water is absorbed. You can expect the tree to soak up 1 1/2 gallons of the recipe during the 10- to 14-day period your tree is up, which is about 800 percent more water than it would have absorbed growing in the forest.
The boron (in the borax) makes the water and sugar move to every needle of your tree. The epsom salts and chelated iron provide magnesium sulfate help chlorophyll production, keeping your needles green. Bleach stops mold from forming when water and sugar stand for awhile.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This weekend, Saturday and Sunday is the Chico Art Center Christmas Faire at 450 Orange Street. It takes place from 10-4 p.m.

My friend Shelley will be there with her pottery including these cool garden fish (pictured).

She said they have some very talented artists again this year. In addition to Shelley there will be work by many well-known local artists.

You can check out her Website at:

www.gardenfish.com

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We loaded up three car loads of friends for the trek up to Butte Meadows last weekend. Tommy was the lead car in our Barbie mobile, the little two-door coupe. A car load of parents and kids were behind us and Curious George in his truck with dog Marni.
I had phoned my friend L.B. Curlew, who lives in snow country, and he assured me there were only patches of snow on the ground and that the day should be clear and bright, just right for finding the perfect Christmas tree.
Tommy and I sang Christmas carols in the car. Funny how you can only remember the first verse of most carols, then you just hum a few bars of the second verse until you feel stupid. Occasionally I’d just make up some goofy lyrics, many of them not fit to print.
The Christmas tree-cutting permits were procured at the Bambi Inn, we snapped a couple of pictures with the rubber chicken, and up the hill we continued.
But then suddenly the road didn’t feel comfortable.
Mile after mile, my anxiety increased and I asked Tommy to pull over and try to find a place to turn around. There was no place to turn around, so we kept driving, with the two car loads close behind us.
We kept going up the hill, despite my lengthy vocalization of misgivings.
George, in the four-wheel-drive truck, was the first one of us to skid off the roadway. This wasn’t a huge deal. Some guy in a humongous truck towed him out with a rope.
Next it was the car load with the kids. We all pushed a bit and they were out.
At the top of the hill it was the Barbie car. Tommy kept revving the tires in the ice until the engine overheated. After receiving a few select words from me, a bunch of us got out and rocked the car back and forth until we got going again.
I’m not sure if it’s a female thing or just a human thing, but I hate it when I feel trapped by someone else’s decision. It feels like being a child, when your parents tell you to go to your room or force you to eat something you don’t like. My mood was exacerbated by the thought that I was 150 percent right and merely being ignored in my demands to turn around and go back to where the road was black instead of covered in ice.
Instead of beating on the dashboard like I was thinking about in my head, I slowly let the anger burn inside in simmering silence.
We were in the Barbie car, not some mongo extended-cab truck with four-wheel-drive. Why weren’t our friends behind us waving their arms wildly, honking their horns and flashing their lights to tell us to turn around?
Why on earth was I in a relationship with a man who obviously cared so little about my personal safety to put me in this perilous situation? Did I remember to renew my AAA membership? Did everyone have their seatbelts on? Did I have enough snacks in case we were stuck on the mountain all night?
By the time we got up there, I had made the complete transformation from Happy Heather to Hagatha the sea hag.
We found a tree that was good enough and lopped it off with the chain saw. I was making my friends uncomfortable because I was so obviously peeved, so I decided a brisk solo stomp through the woods was in order.
When your head is boiling, it’s easy to have poor judgment. I stormed down the hill a little at an angle and the road did not appear where I thought it would.
I started to panic and knew I had to go back or risk getting lost in the drifts of white.
When my sister and I used to go hiking in the woods as kids, we invented the Hacking peacock cry. It’s a distinct sound that helped us keep track of where the other one was walking.
In the snow Saturday I yelled out my Hacking peacock cry and heard Tommy’s voice just a short distance behind me.
When I had raced out into the woods in my angry, childish huff, he had followed me to make sure I wouldn’t wander off too far.
Darn it when you want to be angry with someone and then he does something so sweet and protective.
We did survive the trip back, after being stuck in a traffic jam of about 80 cars for two hours. Three cars and a truck had skidded off the roadway and a snowmobile had to go down to the nearest business to have sand put on the road.
We made the best of it while we waited. The kids pretended they were ice skating and skidded across the road in their sneakers.
When we got home we put on 95.1 FM, which is playing Christmas music 24/7, and decorated the tree.
It’s the most beautiful tree I’ve ever had. Instead of an angel or a star, a dragonfly rests on top and the white lights make the room look warm and bright. Tommy put just the right amount of tinsel on it to capture the shimmer of the white lights.
“Hey,� Tommy said as we were admiring it. “You were right. We shouldn’t have gone so far up the hill.�

Actual useful information
The following tips are from the National Christmas Tree Association, www.christmastree.org.
• If you buy from a tree lot, cut about a half an inch off the trunk and don’t cut it at an angle or V-shape. Soak in a bucket of water after cutting.
• Maintain the water level in the stand each day to keep the tree fresh.
• Drilling holes in the bottom of the trunk will not increase the uptake of water.
• Don’t place the tree near a heat source, to avoid fire hazard and to keep the tree from drying out.
• Always turn the lights off before going to bed and don’t burn the tree when it’s time to throw it away.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)