My brother came to visit us for Thanksgiving. Since his freshman year at Northern Arizona University, Zack has always traveled to spend the holiday with us. Part of the reason this began was the trek back home was a little too far for the short holiday weekend, and I’d like to think the other part was because he missed me.
The first few years were a little trying. My brother and I fought a lot growing up — nothing out of the ordinary, but just the normal sibling spats.
But over the course of time, our spats have stopped and we’ve started to enjoy each others company. This has a lot to do with growing up, and me not picking a fight every chance I could to spite my brother. As my dad would say, we’ve pulled our heads out for air and now we’re beginning our post-childhood relationship.
I really enjoy the relationship we have now. It took a long time to get here, but I’m thankful we finally did.
November 28, 2011
November 23, 2011
Thanksgiving
I woke up early this morning to start baking for our Thanksgiving dinner on Friday. I have to work tomorrow, so we're celebrating a day late.
My Grandma baked the best rolls for the holidays. I looked forward to them every year. I never baked them with her — she’d show up on the day of the feast with perfectly shaped, fluffy, white rolls in square sheets that you’d break apart. I’d always save my rolls for when I was finished eating. I would use them to clean my plate of all the leftover gravy and cranberry sauce.
The first time I tried to make her rolls was in Tahoe. I called her up and wrote down the recipe on an old envelope, which I still have. They weren’t perfect — unless you consider slightly fluffy hockey pucks perfect. The subsequent trials of replicating her rolls only improved by slight increments.
This morning I wanted to bake her rolls like she did. This is the first holiday she won’t be able to make them, and it felt wrong that her legacy wouldn’t be represented. Baking at altitude can be a daunting task, but a little knowledge from the Joy of Cooking can go a long way.
My parents let me have her old recipe box after she died. Her roll recipe is one of the most worn cards in the box. I followed the instructions, letting her handwriting guide me through the steps.
Now the rolls are out of the oven, and this attempt is my most successful thus far — the rolls are beginning to look more and more like hers.
Hopefully they’ll taste just as good too.
My Grandma baked the best rolls for the holidays. I looked forward to them every year. I never baked them with her — she’d show up on the day of the feast with perfectly shaped, fluffy, white rolls in square sheets that you’d break apart. I’d always save my rolls for when I was finished eating. I would use them to clean my plate of all the leftover gravy and cranberry sauce.
The first time I tried to make her rolls was in Tahoe. I called her up and wrote down the recipe on an old envelope, which I still have. They weren’t perfect — unless you consider slightly fluffy hockey pucks perfect. The subsequent trials of replicating her rolls only improved by slight increments.
This morning I wanted to bake her rolls like she did. This is the first holiday she won’t be able to make them, and it felt wrong that her legacy wouldn’t be represented. Baking at altitude can be a daunting task, but a little knowledge from the Joy of Cooking can go a long way.
My parents let me have her old recipe box after she died. Her roll recipe is one of the most worn cards in the box. I followed the instructions, letting her handwriting guide me through the steps.
Now the rolls are out of the oven, and this attempt is my most successful thus far — the rolls are beginning to look more and more like hers.
Hopefully they’ll taste just as good too.
November 19, 2011
Luke was here
Luke came to visit us for three days last week. Moses wore his best outfit for the occasion (see above). The boys had a great time bonding and hanging out. Granted their adventures weren't nearly as extreme as they were in college, but they still had an awesome time. And as always, Kent made his pitch on why everyone needs to live in Vail. Luke left considering the idea, so we'll see how convincing Kent actually was.
November 17, 2011
Alpenglow
al·pen·glow noun \ˈal-pən-ˌglō\
: a reddish glow seen near sunset or sunrise on the summits of mountains
origin: part translation of German Alpenglühen, from Alpen Alps + Glühen glow
First Known Use: 1871
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