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family / food / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
28
Nov 24

Happy Thanksgiving

My mother said there was no need to spend all day making a meal that we’d eat for just a few minutes, when we could just visit and enjoy the day together, instead. And this reasonable idea worked for everyone. Since I knew we were taking her to the Malaysian restaurant — now on the short list for a James Beard award, by the way — and I saw that they were offering a Thanksgiving carryout dinner, we thought we’d give it a try. It was a good choice.

Our takeaway Thanksgiving dinner was tasty this evening. The only thing that went wrong were the re-heating directions, which underestimated the amount of time a de-boned, stuffed duck needed to reach the appropriate temperature after sitting overnight at 38 degrees. But we managed. And this version of the classic Chinese Eight Treasure Duck was tasty. The leek and herb stuffing made the whole thing. I would enjoy this again.

We also had a kale with pomegranate tahini dressing, Wagyu fat mashed potatoes with duck gravy, and a surprisingly tasty root vegetable tart.

For dessert, my lovely bride made a peach crumble, from our own peach tree.

Even in our small group of three, we enjoyed a family continuity. We sat at the dining room table that my grandparents bought for my mother, which has since been handed down to me. Above us there was a picture of my great-grandparents’ home, framed from some of the wood salvaged from that old place. Behind me sat some of the other small lived things that have made up the memories of our lives. Not just mine, or even my mother’s, but also some of the items that have come to The Yankee over the years.

This weekend we’ll mark 18 months in our new home, which means, for me, 18 months of introspection about the details of homes and the lives lived in them. This is our second Thanksgiving here. Last year we hosted my in-laws. And so now we’re having our second Thanksgiving guest. Two successful Thanksgivings. And this, repetition and pleasant memories, are how traditions form.

I think about that a lot in this house, which raised a family of five for two decades before the previous owners’ children flew from the nest. They’re everywhere in this house, of course, and they should be. And now, slowly, then suddenly, so are we.

I have no idea, of course, about how that family marks Thanksgiving. Being sentimental, I wish I did know. Incorporation is how traditions grow. But whatever those people do, I hope they’ve had a fine time doing it this week, as well. And I hope you have had a fine time in keeping your traditions, as well.

Even when the menu changes, when the locations move, or the guest list is altered, traditions can continue. Traditions are intentional. Traditions are in the spirit of things.

family / food / photo / Wednesday — Comments Off
27
Nov 24

Thanksgiving Eve

Our god-nephews (just go with it) have a light like this in their bedroom. Last Christmas they were of the age where they wanted to give you a tour of their room and all of their treasures. I had the privilege of meeting many of their action figures and see several of their creative projects. But this light stole the show. And so, as a joke, I ordered one for Christmas last year.

Ours has made a life for itself in the living room. I’ve recently discovered that you can program it to turn on and off at specific times. And, of course, you can control the colors through your phone. (Because what light doesn’t need an app?)

I think these were two of the better color schemes I saw recently.

My mother flew in yesterday for Thanksgiving. I picked her up at the airport, and we have enjoyed our visit so far. She ran some errands with my lovely bride this morning. I spent a little time finishing up the week’s grading. I even got ahead of things and wrote a few notes for classes next week. Also, I had a Zoom call with a student, as well. It has been a productive day.

This evening we went across the river and had Malaysian food. We met a friend there for dinner a few weeks ago and, just a bite or two in, I thought she would like this, so we’re back. And we ordered all of the same things. And she enjoyed it immensely, because it is good stuff.

When at Kampar, try the Nasi Lemak.

Essentially a fragrant, flavorful, magical packet of Malaysian awesomeness! Coconut cream-soaked rice topped with sambal, roasted peanuts, crispy anchovies and hard-boiled egg, all neatly wrapped in a fresh banana leaf.

Then get:

Achat
Spicy Nyonya pickled vegetables. Ange’s aunt’s recipe!

Rendang Daging
Braised beef in spices and coconut cream (our rendang is slow-cooked for at least 6 hours for the best flavor).

Ayam Goreng Berempah
Spice marinated fried chicken with sambal tomato.

We visited a cidery after dinner and just had ourselves a nice little evening in a quiet and empty Philadelphia. Everyone had gone somewhere for the holidays, it seems.

We enjoyed Kampar so much that we ordered their takeout Thanksgiving meal for tomorrow. No cooking, a new flavor profile, they even provided reheating directions. What could go wrong?

Nothing. Nothing can go wrong.

Happy Thanksgiving!

family / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
26
Nov 24

This week may be brief

I’ve gotten 58 miles on the bike the last two days, which may be the last mild weather days we’ll have for a while. Yesterday’s ride was fine, I won’t write sonnets about it, but it was a good ride. Today’s was not good, and so I am wandering around hoping it warms up, just a bit, because there’s no way that can be the last outdoor ride of the year.

The views were worth it.

My mother flew in this afternoon. I went to the airport to pick her up and everything. She’s here for a nice quite Thanksgiving visit, and I also have plenty of school work to do, as well. So things might be light around here for the next few days.

You’ll understand.

history / Monday / photo / video — Comments Off
25
Nov 24

We sit and stand and play and dream beneath them

I received a memo from the desk of the Office of Kitteh Complaints, and such memos are always to be urgently read and promptly acted upon. Previous memos have explained and, again, reiterated the process. Cat photos are expected on Mondays as part of the site’s most popular weekly feature. Their Insta drives a lot of traffic, it turns out.

And, as the weekend memo pointed out, they did not feature into the site last week. It was a serious memo. The subject line was was terse.

So here are the cats.

Not too long ago we ordered pizzas. It was a coolish night, and so they availed themselves of the boxes.

We have, you can see, created two monsters.

Here’s Phoebe taking her afternoon sun in the dining room.

And here’s Poseidon and you can almost see his little mind thinking “PILLOW FORT! PILLOW FORT!”

So the cats, as you can see, are doing well. And now I have to fulfill the rest of their tasks on the memo. They are very particular.

Some time back we had a limb fall from a tree. I cut away a lot of the small stuff by hand soon after it fell, then waited a while and bought myself a chainsaw. This weekend, finally, I got around to cutting it up. I don’t know why I waited so long. This was fast and easy and awesome.

I cut it into firewood-sized sections. The limb was still partially attached to the tree, so eventually I had to break all of the chainsaw rules, fetched the ladder, climbed up, firmly established my balance, reeeeeeeached up, closed my eyes and did what needed to be done for that last bit of the wood.

Felt quite macho.

First time using a chainsaw, as you can probably tell.

We inherited that wheelbarrow in the move, and I’ve come to value it. I had to put some air in the tire, but it works just fine. And the crickets were loving it when I evicted them for these chores.

I could replace that handle, which has been snapped to a little nub, but that’s become part of its charm as I have used it from time to time. It reminds me of what Amity Shales wrote about Calvin Coolidge’s maple sap bucket.

“It had been quaint, it had lived within the painful limits of its self-sufficiency, but it had also yielded all the rest.”

You can see that sap bucket here. And now, for some reason, I want to get stencils for everything.

Things still look properly festive on the front porch. Pay no attention to the dirty floor in need of a fresh coat of paint.

That’s coming in the spring. I am making a list of things to do and that’s well up the list.

My lovely bride has broken out all of the Christmas paraphernalia this weekend and we have deployed it strategically throughout the house and yard. When it was done, we wandered outside and down to the street to see the effect.

Festive, but not overstated. She did a nice job.

The candles in the window are always my favorite.

The tree I was working on earlier? This is it, in the early evening.

The people that we inherited the wheelbarrow from had three kids. Maybe they climbed that tree. I hope so. I hope they had a lot of fun in that part of the yard. It’s easy to be romantic about a place when it gives you shots like that.

Auburn / Friday / Glomerata / history / photo — Comments Off
22
Nov 24

The 1954 Glomerata, part 12

This is the 12th and final installment of our glance through the 1954 Glomerata. (Find ’em all — Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part 10 and part 11.) All of them will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. I wouldn’t blame you. They’re quite handsome. The university hosts their collection here.

These are a couple of quick shots with a lot of substance behind them, so let’s get to the good stuff.

This was a play or a skit and we have no idea what was going on here. There’s nothing written to support this one moment in their lives. Hopefully it bubbled to the surface for them from time-to-time, and they thought of it fondly.

Dig that fancy flash the guy is holding. And is this really hazing? You could get in a lot of trouble for that today, of course. But things were different, one supposes. Or maybe it was just in fun.

“Fun.”

I’m beginning to think the impression I’ve been given of the morally upright 1950s might not have been a complete … picture.

What do you suppose this guy was working on? Note the ink jar, too.

This feature has a “post every bike” policy, and now that extends to unicycles. This could come back to haunt us later.

That guy is riding at the gates at Toomer’s Corner. The brick column and the Class of 1917 sign are the clues. This it what it looks like today (in 2015).

You’ll note those globes have been replaced by eagles. Those are 19th century eagles They were brought to campus in the 1960s.

I find I’m over the dodging and burning they were doing in the darkroom to cut out these images. What was going on behind the uni-cyclist could have been interesting to us, too.

From the advertisements in the back … This is obviously a sporting goods store, one I’ve never heard of. A quick search tells me they existed at least until the 1960s. They had a great spot, right next to Toomer’s Drugs.

Businesses come and go. The one in Atlanta is gone, too. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the model’s choice of footwear for this photograph.

J&M is still going strong, though. I bought my first Auburn t-shirt in that store. Shopped there a lot over the years.

It does look a bit different today. The building is bigger, and they sell more apparel and souvenirs than books. The business keeps changing, but the Johnstons are still standing there.

Trey, a kind-hearted guy, still owns the place, and it’s still a family concern. Trey was a football walk-on. He grew up in town, and around that store, which his father opened the year before this book was published. It’s a part of everyone’s lives and has always been a part of his. It’s one of the last things downtown that feels old and familiar and I hope it goes on for forever. (Another bookstore I shopped in closed in 2022.) Trey’s lifetime devotion to the place and the people deserve that.

Hawkins is gone.

Has been gone for decades. Hawkins, over time, became Johnston & Malone. So this book is at the beginning of the crossover period. (J&M traces their roots, indirectly, back to the 19th century.) And Burton’s were the headwaters.

Robert Wilton Burton opened the first bookstore in Auburn. They offered “Something New Everyday” for 90 years.

Born in 1848 in Georgia, he enlisted in the Confederate cavalry at the end of the war. At the ripe old age of 17 he spent two days in the saddle before he was captured and spent the last three months of the war in captivity. Burton spent most of his adult years in Auburn, first as a teacher, and then a business man. In 1878 he opened his bookstore became the literary center for the town. Himself a poet, Burton was published in newspapers and magazines around the country, and had a successful series of children’s stories, too. He died in 1917, and his daughters took over the store, until it closed in 1968 when his last surviving daughter was 77.

Burton, his wife and his two daughters are all buried in Pine Hill, an old cemetery steeped in the area’s history, a place I enjoy as much as one can say they enjoy a cemetery, and, oddly, the last place I visited on the weepy, dreadful day we moved away.

And that’s the end of the 1954 Glomerata. These are the editors. And I bet those tires and candles made for a good joke.

I wonder how many people were in on it.

All of these will wind up in the Glomerata section (eventually). You can see others, here. Or maybe you’d like to click through to see all the covers. The university hosts their collection here.