Trivia

This is just a collection of small notes to myself to share. When I was a kid, my mom made something called Junket. It was pudding, made with rennet (whatever that is), and it had a distinctive but very pleasant taste. You bought the mix, combined it with warm milk, and let it set up. I particularly loved raspberry. So when I found it at the Vermont Country Store online, I ordered the package of three boxes--with postage I paid an exorbitant $18 for something Mom could probably have bought for 39 cents. Saturday I tried to make a batch, because Jacob was coming for dinner, and I thought he might like it. The directions cautioned that if you got the milk too hot, it wouldn't set. So I stuck my finger (newly washed and clean) in and thought it was hot (bear in mind, I am not a candymaker and don't have a candy thermometer--couldn't quite see using the meat thermometer). But I tested it on my wrist, that age-old test for babies' milk, and it was--so I thought--the prescribed lukewarm. It never did get firm, and as a drink it wasn't very appetizing. So there's a $6 pkg. of pudding powder down the drain. Now I'm sort of scared to try again.
My neighbors have put a bird feeder out between our houses. It's a rather narrow space, and both our kitchens look out on it. I have loved watching the birds. The other morning a dove sat on the fence and stared back at me as I fixed my breakfast. The birds swoop and swirl, chirp and fight, and an occasional squirrel disturbs their presence--then I go and knock firmly on the dining room window (with only minimal success because squirrels around here are unbelievably bold!). But the neighbors have been out of town, and the feeder went empty; they came back last night, but the feeder is still empty. Dilemma: how do I ask if they'd mind if I bought some seed and shared the duty of keeping the feeder full? Next time I run into one of them I think I'll just ask.
For those loyal few who read this blog a lot--and I know your numbers are small but true--scroll back to May 13 or thereabouts and see a picture of me trying to corral all seven grandchildren. Actually this picture is pretty tame--they were behaving. In immedialy subsequent pictures, it all went downhill--Jacob turned himself in knots to get out of my hold, and Morgan began inching away until you saw less and less of her and finally she was out of the picture. Stilll, it's a picture that makes me most proud.
I was talking to Jordan tonight about planning Jacob's first birthday party. Actually she was talking and I was listening, when she said, "Gotta go. Jacob's standing on my dressing table eating vaseline!" I laughed till I cried. Hope she took a picture before she got him down.