EGGS

How about the price of eggs?! My computer tells me that the egg shortage will continue through 2025. How will this impact Easter and the egg hunts? Well, I’ve been out of the Easter egg hunt scenario for years – happily so – so maybe we no longer hide real eggs anyway.

We have used liquid egg substitutes for years in the great fight against cholesterol, and naturally, that product is even more expensive now. Plus, the quality can be iffy, and after opening, they should be used within a week. Looking for alternatives, I bought Bob’s Red Mill Egg Replacer (powdered eggs) at Albertsons for $6.50, and they work well in baked goods. One package replaces 34 eggs, so it’s definitely a bargain at today’s egg prices. It’s just not going to help if you want eggs with your bacon.

There are other ways to replace eggs in baking, too. Do you have a favorite?

It isn’t Valentine’s Day yet, and here I am talking about Easter (April 20). Maybe you can tell I don’t have much to write about. Mike and I both have dental issues, and little Silas fell going up stairs the other day and chipped a front tooth. He seems to be coping better than his parents. “Welcome to parenthood,” I say.

I have been kicking myself for developing such a fabric / yarn stash, but if prices soar, I might just be grateful I have projects waiting for me in the shed.

And that’s the news from here – for now. KW

BAD MILK

Mike and I shopped for groceries at Albertsons last week, and I came home with short-dated milk. I should have known better. However, it was still within its “use by” date on Sunday when I discovered it was not good. Mike was going out, so he offered to return it. That was great, but he came home with milk that was as bad, if not worse, than what he took back.

So, on Monday, Mike and Ken took the dogs and went hunting, and I prepared to return the milk. I packed my purse, congratulating myself that I had everything I would need.

I put the cooler in the car. “What am I missing?” I asked myself. The milk! 

I retrieved the milk from the fridge and put it in the cooler.

“What else don’t I have?” – My grocery list! So I grabbed the list from the kitchen counter.

Still feeling something was missing, I decided it must be my visor, so back into the house I went.

Finally ready, I drove to the store, a distance of approximately five miles. As I prepared to disembark from the car, I realized I didn’t have my purse. It was my purse that I was missing! I was tempted to just drive home and dump the stupid milk, but we would still need milk and a few other items, so there was nothing for it but to drive back home for my purse, which I did. (Mike had bought half-price milk, so there was no way I could simply exchange it for better milk.)

Arriving back at Albertsons, now with my purse, I went first to JoAnn’s. A sign on the door says they will maintain regular hours until further notice. I have loved this little store, conveniently located next to Albertsons, but JoAnn Fabrics is again in bankruptcy – the second time in a year. The cashier told me that they won’t know whether or not they have a buyer for the chain until mid-March, but he admitted that the future for this store doesn’t look good.

This little Bridge Street Shopping Center has been my “go-to” place for 20 years – Albertsons, JoAnn’s, and Dollar Tree. In recent years, I even got my hair cut at a salon there. The hair salon closed the first of January (Boy, do I need a haircut!), and JoAnn Fabrics will probably close, too. Fewer of my needs will be met at this location. Well, I have to admit that I didn’t buy enough at JoAnn’s to keep them in business, but no one person is responsible for their demise. The world is a changing place. KW

A DIFFICULT WEEK

I have been on an emotional rollercoaster as I prepare victim impact statements regarding Milo’s death at the request of the court. Now that Milo is gone, they want me to say what he meant to me and how we are impacted by his loss. Couldn’t they have asked BEFORE he was sentenced to prison and subsequently murdered? Well, to make matters worse, they did ask, we did comply, they just didn’t care, and they probably don’t care now. Nevertheless, I’m doing my best in Milo’s name. These letters aren’t due for quite some time, but I’ve been writing obsessively. I can’t seem to let it go.

It was Mike’s birthday the other day (Jan. 23). I won’t tell you how many years. At some point, we’re better off if we don’t think about how old we are. We went to Subway for lunch, and I guess that was the celebration. When we got home, he discovered that the spigot at the corner of his shop was cracked and leaking. He had to turn the water off, which meant we had no water in the house either, lending urgency to the situation. As he prepared to dig out the pipe, I suggested he call son Clinton. I figured that two heads were better than one, and Clint knows about these things. So, Clint left work early and came to help. He did the digging and then they bought and attached a whole new unit – spigot and pipe. Before Clint left, the water was back on.

It hasn’t gone particularly well in my sewing room either. The little shirt I’m making turned out to be too small for one doll and snug on the others. Yes, I should have checked measurements before I cut it out, but I really would expect that a pattern promoted especially for dolls such as mine would fit better than it does. The fabric – just the cutest! – was upcycled from a bag that Silas’ sheets came in, and I didn’t have a lot left. Of particular concern was the fact that the cuffs were too small for the dolls’ fat wrists. So, I cut new sleeves and instead of an “authentic” cuff, I made simple cuffs. I think it’s just as cute that way, and as always, the dolls smiled through. I still have the finishing to do.

And then there’s the “icebox lemon pie,” Mike’s favorite, that I made as a birthday treat. I used an off-brand sweetened condensed milk from Grocery Outlet (the “used food” store, as one son calls it). And oh, what trouble we make for ourselves when we practice to save a few cents! The filling refused to thicken. It turned out that it was “sweetened condensed creamer,” and while it said it would be good in my dessert recipes, it certainly was not! It tastes okay, but it isn’t pie. KW

UP TO THE FARM AND BACK

 

We are having such a mild winter and now have only a few inches of snow and lots of bare ground. We need lots of snow or rain. – Ina Dobson, January 12, 1936

Brrrrr!!! The January cold snap is upon us. It’s cold but dry, and I wonder what sort of summer we’ll have if we don’t get more snow in the mountains.

It’s been nearly a week ago now since we went to the farm to check on things – Tuesday (Jan. 14). It was a lovely sunny day there but cold – 32 and breezy, 40 in the house.

It’s been several years since I’ve had an opportunity to take winter photos, so I was pleased to see the snow, even though it wasn’t deep. Perhaps the effects were actually more interesting than deep drifts would have been, and we had no trouble getting in.

We had three mice in traps, so we re-set those traps and set three more. I checked the pantry cupboard and loaded two crates with food, much of it expired or nearing expiration. I will have to replenish the pantry in the spring, but it’s good to rotate supplies.

While I went out to get my photos, Mike and Bess went for a quick hunt but didn’t find any birds.

Well, it’s not comfortable to sit around in a cold house with no creature comforts, so we left around noon. We stopped at Subway for lunch and were home by 2:30. I had thought it might be a challenge to put the food away, but much of it could be tossed or combined with what was here. It worked out well. KW

YET ANOTHER ARTICLE

 Here's the link to an article that appeared in today's edition of the Lewiston Tribune.

We understand that the Idaho Statesman is preparing another article focused on how Milo Warnock and James M. Johnson became cellmates. KW

LINK TO ARTICLE

Here's the link to the article written by Alex Brizee of the Idaho Statesman. This relates to the court hearing mentioned in the previous post.

https://amp.idahostatesman.com/news/local/crime/article298651418.html

UPDATE: MILO WARNOCK WRONGFUL DEATH

Milo Warnock 1979-2023

Readers may know that our son Milo died at the hands of his cellmate at the Idaho State Corrections Center on December 10, 2023, just weeks short of his 46^th birthday. Milo was a non-violent offender sentenced to prison on a DUI charge.

Shortly after arriving at prison and receiving classification as a minimum security inmate, Milo was harshly punished for trying to regulate the time of day in which he swallowed his medication and subsequently placed in maximum security with violent offenders. He was confined to a cell for 23 hours a day and lost all privileges – no educational advantages, church services, socialization, etc. Plus -- his cellmate, James M. Johnson, appeared to be delusional and schizophrenic. (I wonder about that now as James sits quietly in court and answers the judge politely. Was he just intimidating Milo?)

At any rate, Milo didn’t know how to cope. “If I take any action at all, it will be wrong,” Milo wrote to me. And the fact that his last hours were spent in anguish with no help from the prison staff troubles me more than his death.

After a prolonged investigation by the Idaho State Police, the Ada County District Attorney charged James with first degree murder and evidence tampering with regard to Milo’s death. Initially, James entered a plea of not guilty, but the “tampering with evidence” charge was dropped, and he changed his plea to guilty in hopes of receiving a fixed sentence of not more than 35 years. However, at court this morning, the judge stated that she will review his record and the pre-sentence investigation before determining the sentence.  There will not be a trial. Sentencing has been scheduled for April 4.

In Milo’s name, we will continue to work to make the public aware of the need for judicial, corrections, and mental health reform. Too many – both men and women – are incarcerated. More appropriate sentences should be imposed on non-violent offenders. KW

PASSION PROJECTS – 2025

The mostly dark and dull days of winter are upon us. We have no excitement and given the state of  the world, we deem this a good thing.  

The New Year’s retail promotions are full of suggestions.

·      “New Year, New Projects”

·      “Find your 2025 passion project”

·      “New year, new skill”

“I wish!” I say to myself. I’d love a fresh start, but I have a plethora of wonderful projects and ideas from previous years on my bucket list and some that I would be happy to de-list. I’m a dreamer, not a realist; a starter, not a finisher. And a part of me is happy with that, even though it’s an undisciplined approach and my conscience occasionally bothers me.

It's interesting that online sellers seem to think that crafting is neat and tidy. Finish one project, move to the next, and by the end of the year, you’ve finished everything you started and are actually looking for something new to do. Does it work that way for anyone? A few of the quilting gurus give the impression that they make many quilts in a year, but I suspect that staff members provide support. Wouldn’t I love to assign problematic seams to my team! Unfortunately, I don’t have one. but if I did, I might chug right along, too. I have to rip and restitch my own seams and do my own finishing.

A dull winter's day along the Clearwater River

And sometimes I wonder – don’t these crafters (quilters, crocheters, knitters, etc.) have anything else to do? Suggest a sew-along, and six people will show up tomorrow with the finished project. What about the cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and walking the dog? What about eight hours of sleep? Forgive me, but even a husband detracts from project work with his suggestions of geocaching and requests for cookies and banana bread.

I had planned to do some simple, fun projects in the first weeks after Christmas, but the ones I chose were neither simple nor fun. Frankly, they don’t even qualify as unfinished because I couldn’t make a start, and the one I did start turned out to be difficult and sits as a “buffalo” on my sewing machine. I wonder if I’m losing my touch, my cognitive abilities, and/or my patience. Perhaps it’s all three. (I really think that I’m the way I’ve always been.) KW

FIRST GEOCACHE OF 2025

 

It was Monday afternoon, January 6.

“I’m bored,” said Mike. “I want to go geocaching this afternoon. Do you want to go with me?”

I wasn’t bored, but I said I would go – that is, until I stepped outside. It was “41 feels like 36” with a stiff breeze and no sun. “Are you sure you want to go today?” I asked.

“Maybe not,” Mike agreed.

So the next day, the sun was out (sort of) and it wasn’t quite so cold, and we agreed it would be good to get out. We parked the car off Hwy 12 / 95 directly across the Clearwater River from the mill and walked east to one cache which was simply the coords for the next cache in the series. It was faded to the extent that we couldn’t read it. On the way back to the car, we stopped at another elaborately planned cache where we were supposed to pour water into a tube so that the log book would float to the top. Mike tried valiantly, but the desired item was stuck in gunk at the bottom of the tube and wouldn’t float.

“These caches feel ‘déjà vu,’” I commented, and Mike laughingly agreed. We tried these caches unsuccessfully last year. We couldn’t read the first one, and we didn’t have the necessary water for the second.

So, we drove on east for a couple of miles to the “Goose Pasture” where we walked along a trail to access three recently-placed caches. Mike found each of these rather quickly, but they were elaborate, and putting them back to the original condition was time-consuming. Bess had such a good time running around, but in the end, even she complained about staying in one place.

As we arrived back at the car, the Ada County prosecuting attorney called to give us an update on the pending case against the inmate who murdered our son Milo, so we sat and listened for ten minutes or so. Progress has been made, but the current status is not yet final, so announcements won't be made for several weeks. And on the way home, Mike and I reviewed again the "what ifs." KW

A HOLIDAY MEMORY

I don’t write much about my holiday memories. They are simply too personal, whether positive or negative. So, I write about Grandma Ina instead, based on her letters to my dad. It’s historically interesting for me and I’m not emotionally invested in what happened in those years that don’t include me.

Hallie’s comment on a previous post reminded me of how difficult Christmas was when I was the mother of young children. Christmas 1979, Milo was just turning two and Clinton was two months. I had volunteered to bring peanut butter fudge to the Christmas Eve gathering at the family home. The recipe is simple:

Peanut Butter Fudge

Semi-sweet chocolate morsels (one package)

Butterscotch morsel (one package)

1 cup creamy peanut butter

1 cup peanuts

1 10-oz. package of mini-marshmallows

Melt the morsels and peanut butter in the microwave. Stir in peanuts and marshmallows and spread in a buttered 9x13 pan. Allow to set in the refrigerator for half an hour. Voila!

So, you see, anyone can make that tasty, melt-in-your-mouth fudge in five minutes, but I couldn’t find that five minutes. Clinton had a bad day. The only time he wasn’t crying was when I held him, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. And of course, the two-year-old still needed my attention, too. And I had to pack for the overnighter at the family home. Bottom line: I failed to make that super-simple fudge.

Arriving at the Christmas Eve party that evening, I fessed up to my mother that I hadn’t made the fudge. “Vance, Vance,” she called to my dad. “Kathy didn’t make the fudge,” whereupon, my dad set to work to make Fantasy Fudge when he really had more important things to do. I felt so small. It’s not like they didn’t have a plethora of goodies, but I had certainly misjudged how important that plate of fudge would be.

I drew a number of lessons from that simple failing that helped to shape the kind of Christmas we have today. Be flexible. Keep it simple. Nothing matters but that we’re together. KW

MOVING INTO THE NEW YEAR

Christmas and New Years are both history again after all the feverish making and planning and mailing. It did keep us going before Christmas, but it was fun and we surely made several somethings out of quite a lot of nothings. I decorated the house with lots of boughs and the mistletoe from the aunts in Drain, and your holly added so much to the window curtains. We still have our decorations and Christmas tree and I think I won’t take them down for a few more days. – Shirley Dobson

I find it a little depressing to put away the holiday decorations, so I say with Aunt Shirley, “I think I won’t take them down for a few more days.” In fact, I like to think of the holiday cheer as lighting the way into the dark months of the new year. We should have hope for peace and prosperity in the future, but for our family and the world at large, these are not peaceful times. KW

[The inmate who murdered our son Milo is scheduled to be tried in February on charges of first degree murder and tampering with evidence. His pleads “not guilty.”]