Scone-da-monium

About this time of year, my friend Kerry Sims and I bake up some batches of scones and find a few neighborhood folks to invite over to indulge in a few too many fat grams and to talk about the neighborhood. Last year was the first time we did this, and it was intended to be more of a competition between Kerry and me. But the people who attended didn't want to start a neighborhood feud, so they declared all the scones excellent.

This year, our friend Anne Bachle-Fifer is hosting. She and her husband Mark just got done remodeling their kitchen, so they have some nice space.

This year, I once again made my toasted oatmeal cinnamon chip scones, which are in the bottom of the top picture. This is a more involved recipe, but still not all that tough to get right. The recipe I start with is the oatmeal scone from America's Test Kitchen. The only augmentation I make is to bake my scones on a preheated baking stone and to add a scant cup of cinnamon chips. I also make sure to cook them plenty long. Nothing is more disappointing than a mushy scone.

The cinnamon scones are rather sweet and crispy, while the other recipe I typically use is more bready and lean (although they are basted with butter before baking). This second recipe was shared by Kerry, and is good for getting creative with the "goodies." This year I made dark chocolate chip with a raspberry stuffing. I've never done these before, so we'll see how they go over. In the past, I've done dark chocolate ginger, dark chocolate orange, cranberry almond, butterscotch chip, and probably some other assortments.

Kerry is reportedly going to try lemon pistachio for tomorrow. He's pretty daring. But he'll be making he espresso, so we won't be too hard on him if they taste strange.

More Positive Friction

Just a quick, shameless plug for a cool new website I tripped across tonight. This one is full of positive energy thinking about how to make the situation in this world better... rather than using up brain cells vetting all that is wrong.

Grab a cup of organic, fair trade coffee and take a look.

51 Lantern

I'm really stoked! I just re-assembled a 1951 single-mantle Coleman 220A lantern that my brother Bill had collecting dust in his garage. First try and she fired up!

This lantern is a pretty little gem, with a forest green fountain and a red ventilator. The globe is rounded and has the Coleman logo etched into the glass.

The inside of the fountain was pretty rusty, so I'm not sure how long I'll be able to run it before the valve gums up. I washed it out with gasoline pretty good, but it only takes a little rust to stop up the works.

I replaced the generator and the filler cap, the latter for safety reasons. The old filler caps can be rebuilt, but they have been known to blow gas if loosened; something that you don't really want to do around an open flame.

The only part of the lantern I painted was the frame. Tonight, I oiled the pump, cleaned up the rest, reassembled, then took her out on the back porch to see if it would burn. I pumped her up, placed her in the snow, and she fired right up.

I'll proudly be adding this one to my growing collection. I have a 1962 double-mantle 228E in green that still needs the valve packing replaced. That lantern went on many family camping trips to Montauk Point and Cape Hatteras, and even traveled all the way up to Prince Edward Island in the back of a VW micro bus hauling a 14' day sailer and four happy kids.

The other workhorse lantern in my collection is a green, double-mantle 1977 220F. It's the only one younger than me. It has an amber globe, has been rebuilt, and works very reliably.

Now if you have an old nickle plated Coleman in your attic, just let me know.

Gas Pressure Lanterns, Lamps, Stoves and Irons
International Coleman Collector's Club
Old Town Coleman Center and Museum

First Ski of the Year

Right on cue, December brought the first good snow to west Michigan. The cold air that moved in today brought a few more inches and lots of gracefully floating flakes in the air. Feeling the need for some exercise, I called my friend Chuck to see if he would be interested in a quick ski in the Rogue River State Game Area in northern Kent County.

As luck would have it, Chuck was home and he had the spare time on his hands.

There was just enough snow on the ground for skiing, although the snow closest to the ground was still plenty moist from last week's heavy rains and temperatures in the 60s. But more on that later.

After skiing for about twenty minutes, we came to one of my favorite bluffs over the Rogue River, a place that I jokingly refer to as the "Judy Tree." Since it was quite a while since I had last visited this section of trail, I was surprised to find that the Judy Tree had been toppled in a storm.

As she fell, she split into pieces. The big trunk of this 100 year-old beech fell towards the river, another branch fell to the north, and a twisted mess of branches fell across the trail.

Why do I call her the "Judy Tree?"

Many years ago, when she was still standing and healthy, plenty a jack knife plied her trunk to claim that various unthoughtful souls had passed her way. One particular person that apparently passed her way more than once was Judy. By the evidence on the trunk, Judy had a number of male suitors that felt in necessary to proclaim their love in the smooth bark of this beautiful beech. On the tree could be read "Dave + Judy"... and Mike, and Ron, and Joe...

While Judy was certainly loved, the lack of affection that many a passer by had for the tree eventually lead to its ill health and demise.

The ironic thing was that while it lived, the Judy Tree tightly embraced a neighboring hemlock, leaving a huge scar that can be seen to this day.

Chuck and I skied north for a bit more than two miles before turning around. At the turn-around point, we shared a power bar and Chuck dug out a few shelled chestnuts he had purchased from a farmer in Newaygo County.

During our break, we talked about how we hoped that our tracks would cause the snow to freeze a little more firmly.

That was not to be the case. Instead, the wet snow underneath continued to stick to our skis, causing us to have to stop and scrape off the frozen slush.

The stuff got so dreadful at times that we could hardly push our skis along. It caused us to wobble and strain.

To the right is a picture of the frozen mass found underneath one of my skis, pine needles and all.

The friction made the skiing hard work. I thought it odd how we were now basically walking through the woods with six foot long and two inch wide snowshoes shaped like elves' booties.

Yet all the work still didn't keep us from enjoying the wonderful beauty of the newly fallen snow and the flakes drifting around us. Whether we skied past beeches, birch, oaks or hemlocks, the whiteness of the new snow was refreshing.

The beauty and the work made for a nice afternoon, and as we skied back to the Jeep shortly after 5:00pm, the clouds thinned enough to give us a glimpse of the rising full moon.

And the moonlight allowed me to snap one quick last picture of this little troll snatching at my ski! And all along I thought it was the wet snow.