Regis and I puttered with homemade pizza last night after work. It's so nice to have him come home on Friday night and have the whole weekend to look forward to. Bob and Emily came for a visit with Ella. She likes the jack-in-the-box but anticipates the clown popping out and gets a little afraid. She backs right into her dad when she sees the lid start coming up!
We had a nice time playing peek-a-boo with the edge of the
tablecloth and reading Helen Oxenbury's Tickle, Tickle. It was one of Tiffany and Peter's favorite books when they were little, too, so it's fun for me to read it to Ella. She says "tickle, tickle" at the end and laughs. Such a sweet-natured little girl.
Regis was awake last night from 2-4:30 so he went back to bed after reading the paper. Nice that he can do that now, but it means I have to be quiet this morning. I made tea instead of coffee because the coffee grinder would wake the people next door. I'm anxious to start banging around the kitchen. Betty and Tom are coming for dinner tonight. Tom calls it, "Have fondue, will travel." Ha! It means he'll come with fondue pots and all the food...I just supply the table and the bread.
I have to make a couple loaves of Cuban bread for the fondue and start getting ready for our St. Patrick's Day party next Saturday. I have a new tablecloth and I ordered ten Irish coffee mugs from some place online. I found a great recipe for Irish coffee from an artist name Bill Murphy. I had to print it and put it on my recipe binder. You can find it here: Bill Murphy. He says that using whipped cream products (Cool Whip) or aerosol whipped cream is considered a mortal sin in the Catholic church. And you must use good Irish whiskey. Our plan is to have people here for a Guiness before the parade and then again after the parade for corned beef and cabbage. (In 1978 I had a legendary St. Pat's party in St. Paul that involved Irish coffee and a parade. This won't be a repeat of that performance.) Regis made a great invitation and we're delivering them today.
Our snow is melting fast. Yesterday the temperature was in the high 40's and it might be 60 by the end of next week. Coats and mittens are starting to feel like a bother and my feet can't wait to be liberated into sandals. Socks and shoes feel so constraining.
A rabbit living under my shrubs in the front yard has almost destroyed a winged euonymous. I don't know why he finds that so tasty. Regis knows I won't do anything to discourage the rabbit so he suggested I put out something he (rabbit...not Regis) might like to eat instead of the shrub. I've gotten to be a bit of a joke among some of our friends because I feel the same way about moles. A few years ago, the moles were making the yard on the south side of the house so mushy with their tunnels that I was almost afraid to walk there. The hill in front by the sidewalk had so many mole holes that it looked like it had been shot at by a bazooka from Linda Elvie's front step. Regis mentioned the mole issue to Jim who offered his mole traps. One look at those and all I could think of was Mole Music.
This is from the review: In this tender-hearted picture book, McPhail (Tinker and Tom and the Star Baby) goes underground (literally) to explore the restorative powers of music. Mole feels something is missing from his life, which consists of digging tunnels all day and kicking back in front of the TV in his subterranean home each evening. One night Mole watches a man playing the violin on television ("He made the most beautiful music Mole had ever heard") and resolves to obtain his own violin and learn to play it.
I went to Fred's garden center to ask about something more humane. He sold me a bag of stuff for twenty-five dollars that would "discourage" them, he said. They would likely just move on to the neighbors...where they would be killed by mole traps. I decided they could just live here. They don't bother all that much. So we have a mole and rabbit sanctuary. My neighbor to the north doesn't like critters or weeds. The tall milkweed plants in the middle of my garden drive him crazy. He just points and says, "Roundup!", and I say, "Monarch butterflies!" It's my yard so I get to pick.