The Last Post of 2020. I am leaving 2020 behind. I am burning bridges. I am moving on.

 Sitting here making a list. More changes. Visible changes. My deadline was Christmas Day 2020. I have learned a lot in 2020, mostly how to be a decent human being and how to recognize when others were not decent human beings. I have also grown very tired of 2020 politics and all the comments on Covid. It's been very difficult to see this on social media. But I have had to look to myself, too. Lots of self-reflection. More to come. I am making a list on what I will not do and will do in 2021. Because Time is Everything, and my Time is so limited. And if this year taught us anything it's that nothing is certain. I knew this, of course, but I have had a master class in reality in 2020 to remind me of harsh and unpleasant facts of life. Again, I look to myself. I look to my own weaknesses. I look to my strengths. I have taken on some new projects and am looking forward to finishing some older ones. I want to do some art work in 2021. I want to travel if I can. That means a vaccination and other sacrifices. That means time looking down, like I am right now, sitting at my desks, one or the other, working. It means work.

I wish you a very Merry Christmas.

A Christmas Carol

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow has fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter,
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Throng’d the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,—
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.

– Christina Rossetti 

Today is Shirley Jackson's birthday.

 

“On the moon we wore feathers in our hair, and rubies on our hands. On the moon we had gold spoons.” —Shirley Jackson

I am talking southern pecan pie today.

I want to talk about pie today. I am going to make a pecan pie. I don't really know why, but it sounds like fun and I haven't made one in years now. And a pecan pie is so southern. I've been looking at my recipe files and wow, there were lots of pecan pies in it and I could not remember which one I liked best and I left few exciting notes that I could actually read! lol I had to do some research because making a pecan pie is not something I do a lot and so I don't have the practice. And I am going to put my recipe here and what I could make of my notes and well, if anybody wants to make a comment, go ahead. After all, cooking is an experiment, much like writing, it takes experience and practice to perfect a technique or get your vision across. So here goes:

Ingredients

3 eggs

1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar

1 heaping tablespoon flour (This means it’s rounded up a pinch or two. Laughing)

1 cup dark corn syrup. (We need to talk about this)

2 tablespoons Butter

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 cups pecans (I use chopped pecans, but most people like halves and either works well.)

1 (9-inch) unbaked deep dish pie shell (I always put this out and let it thaw while I am preparing everything)

Let's talk about corn syrup: I use Karo Dark Corn Syrup. That's the southern thing to do, but I had in my notes that one year I used Light Corn Syrup, and one year I used half and half. Apparently the lighter the syrup, the milder the taste is. The darker is the better for me, because I just like the rich taste of the syrup. But I got a lot of compliments the year I used half of each. I don't use maple syrup or any substitute for "corn syrup" because it's not going to set up right. I hear this all the time. Unless you are some kind of great baker, and you might be, but I am not and I know if I do this, it's either going to be a miracle or a big, big mistake. Do that at your own risk.

Let's talk about the most serious problem making a pecan pie. It doesn't set up right. There is nothing worse than a runny pecan pie and apparently I made a few that went in the garbage over the years until my momma said I needed to use a heaping tablespoon of flour in the recipe. lol. A heaping tablespoon doesn't mean much to normal people, but to southern cooks it means don't be too precious when measuring. If you go over a bit, it's not going to ruin anything. But don't go under!!!! lol Another reason your pie can go runny is you don't cook it long enough and you don't let it go to room temperature before you start fooling with it afterwards. A pecan pie has got to set up and I even store my pie in the refrigerator after it cools a bit because I want it to set up firm before I cut it. When you are baking the pie, make an aluminum foil cover for pie crust edges. This keeps the rim of the pie from overcooking while the center gets done.

Oven should be preheated to 350° F.

In a bowl, beat eggs first then stir in your brown sugar and THAT flour, followed by the syrup, melted butter, and vanilla. Mix all this together really well, then add your pecans. Don't overfill the pie shell. You will know when to stop.

Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until set. Allow to cool completely. Like I said, don't fool with a pecan pie until it is room temperature. It's just a mess if you do.

I shared this with my friends in France. They made pies. Smiling.

This is about life, too.

“Fantasy, an unflagging optimism is necessary for a writer at all stages of this rough game. A kind of madness is therefore necessary, when there is every logical reason for a state of depression and discouragement. Perhaps the fact that I can react with utter gloom to this is what keeps me from being psychotic and keeps me merely neurotic.”

                      —Patricia Highsmith

We are all living in bubbles.

"Our consciousness of ourselves as separate and permanent and important is actually delusional."

                                              — George Saunders