Paint It White

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If you’ve been following for a while, you know how excited I get about Pantone’s Color of the Year. With the excption of 2019’s Living Coral, the past five years have been a bit of a disappointment… but, at least they were colors. This year’s Color is called Cloud Dancer, a pretty spectacular name for white, if you ask me.

Maybe it’s a response to all of the cottage-core color-drenching that’s going on in Pinterest and Reels.
Maybe it’s acknowledging that this year could use a coat of white primer and a do-over. Perhaps a kinder, gentler start.

In its description Pantone called it a “billowy, balanced white, chosen as a calming antidote to a noisy world.” They got that part right. They even state that white “symbolizes new beginnings.”
In that vein, numerologically speaking, our upcoming year (2+0+2+6,) adds up to 10, which equals a 1. Also symbolizing a new beginning. I’ve got my fingers crossed.

I’ve been feeling well enough to bake lately. Sadly, my oven (my new oven) chose now to have a meltdown. I made a batch of gluten-free orange and pistachio biscotti, a twice-baked cookie of sorts, perfect for dunking in your coffee or tea. It’s a new recipe to me that was surprisingly easy to mix and shape. I popped it into the oven and set a timer for 20 minutes.
Walking back into the kitchen 16 minutes later, smoke was curling out of the oven vent. The thermostat had gone on the fritz and the oven was registering above 500 degrees!


I’m glad we were smart enough to buy an extended warranty. Oh, how I long for a gas oven.

I am waiting for the Whirlpool repairman to come again this afternoon with another part. And, in the meantime, I learned a new Italian word: bruciato. It means burned.

I posted my biscotti pic on Facebook (I know, it’s where the old people hang-out, but I am old) and a friend said it looked like a crocodile.
It kinda does, doesn’t it?
And a sister said it looked like Mom’s meatloaf! Poor Mom.
I’m guessing that because she didn’t like meat, but felt obliged to cook it, it was always overcooked. Her heart definitely wasn’t in it.

I hurried to defend her, saying she cooked well. But, maybe not, because I always joke that I learned to cook in self-defense. I can say with certainty that she was a great baker. Cream-puffs extraordinaire! Gooey pineapple upside-down cake! Feather-weight angel-food cake! I guess she’s where I get my love of baking. I’ll give that biscotti another try and take photos when I do.

This is one of the Papa Noël statues my sweetie has collected over the years. He and his daughter were trying to figure out how old it is, but didn’t know exactly, at least thirty years or more. I’ve always loved this one – it is so abundant with his lush beard and all of his Teddy bears.

To all of my Jewish friends – I hope your Hanukkah was festive.

To all of you who celebrate it, I wish you a very Merry Christmas.

And to everyone, an abundant and Happy New Year! I’m grateful for you all.

XO Donna

Show & Tell

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I’m sure I’m not the only one thinking; “I really need to quit reading ALL of the news.” There has always been a part of me that believes that if I completely understand something , then I will have some control over it… but, no matter how much I read, or analyze, I cannot understand . It is incomprehensible.

What I am searching for now, is the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change.

I usually post earlier in the week, but this week disappeared, taken up by trying to schedule a series of MRIs for my son. You’d think it would be a simple phone call, wouldn’t you? And for someone with good health insurance, and no special needs, it would be – but to make this appointment required coordination between his nursing home, his insurance, the imaging schedulers, two different hospitals, an anesthesiology department… and me. Nine days and sixteen phone calls later, Mission Impossible turned into mission accomplished!
To celebrate, I baked myself a delicious gluten-free/non-dairy sour cream coffee cake. And I gotta tell you, it was delicious!

I wasn’t sure whether or not the non-dairy yogurt I eat (which has the texture and tang of sour cream) would work, but it did, and deliciously so. I’ve made two, in as many weeks, and I know that it’s a keeper. Speaking of non-dairy yogurt, they have improved to the point where they are actually tasty. The one I buy has 12g of protein in a serving… and it’s the store’s brand. If you have trouble with dairy, products, do a bit of exploring. I was pleasantly surprised.

In between all the calls, and waiting for return calls, I decided that our entryway needed some sprucing up, something we’ve talked about for years. When we were in Costco they had beautiful ceramic pots on sale. Front porch worthy pots. We hauled one home, then went to the garden center and bought a Hibiscus that should thrive in the bright morning sun and indirect afternoon light. Her tag says she’s a Cecilia Hibiscus, with red double blooms. So, she came with her own name… and now when I water her I can’t help but sing the Simon and Garfunkle lyrics; “Cecilia, you’re breaking my heart, you’re shaking my confidence daily…oh Cecilia, I’m down on my knees, I’m begging you please to come home, come on home.” She seems at home in her new space, don’t you think?

I know… the tag’s showing on my cushion. Blame the bad prop stylist. I also bought a Star Jasmine which has been planted under the kitchen windows, but since that bed is still a work-in-progress I will take some photos after I get it in order. I came home from the grocery store with an Oregano plant the other day. I’m going to put it in a side bed where I tried to grow Basil for the last three years – it was like hitting my head against a wall – the soil wasn’t appropriate and the sun was too intense. The Oregano should do well next to the Rosemary and Thyme. (Another Simon and Garfunkle song in there.)

I’m focusing on bright spots where I can find them, or make them. And that leads me to my appointment this afternoon – two weeks ago I had my nails done. My illness, perhaps my restrictive diet, and certainly my meds had taken a toll on my nails. And I hadn’t taken care of my cuticles in a while. I’m embarrassed to show you, but I felt like I was hanging on by a thread for a while. Have you ever just had a spell where you were over it all? What did you do?

I chose to do this frivolous thing for myself, and asked one of the women I play Canasta with -she had a particularly well-done American manicure (a french manicure has white tips, an American is more subtle, creamy) – where she got her nails done, then booked an appointment there.
Helen, the owner of the salon, did a wonderful job; she was gentle and very efficient, and has a good eye. All qualities I really appreciate. I loved the results!

The new nails have necessitated gardening gloves, which also feels nurturing… another small layer of self-care.
So although everything else is mostly beyond my control, I am grateful for these small things. For the lovely vignettes I have made, for the fact that I have creative outlets, and because you are all here.

Please take good care of yourselves, okay?

XO Donna