Life's Little (Long) Weekend Pleasures

Nota bene: I was able to sneak the highly-fragrant posy you see below into the marital bedroom because my husband happened to be away on a business trip the day I snapped the photograph below; such a transgression would be unthinkable otherwise and near grounds for divorce - you can read why, here.

An engaging book and a bedside posy of home-grown narcissus Avalanche helps to ease one comfortably into a relaxing Sunday morning

Photo: Chronica Domus

Several days ago I received a nice comment from one of my loyal readers.  "CD, CD, wherefore art thou?  I miss you!".  Reading it made me realize that I have not been particularly punctual with my posts here at Chronica Domus lately.  Had it really been an entire month since I last published anything or, for that matter, have had the luxury of visiting my favorite blogs?  I am afraid it really has been.

Since the beginning of January, my days have held an almost elastic quality to them.  My real-world professional obligations have stretched too far into my waking hours which, sadly, has left little time to pursue the more pleasurable aspects of life, including the upkeep of this blog.  I won't even mention the alarming state of my garden.  Shudder.  As you can imagine, the long President's Day weekend could not have arrived soon enough.  Three entire days to revel in the little things in life that provide the greatest of pleasure.  I consider one of those pleasures to be sleep.

I don't know about you but a few extra hours of sleep on a weekend morning has become a luxurious indulgance the older I get.   If I can make it to 8 a.m. in the comfort of my bed, I just know it's going to be a good day.  It pains me to admit that, try as I might, I am not a natural early riser.  I admire those of you that are up and about enjoying the crepuscular light of dawn, catching sight of colorful skies painted by the first shafts of light.  That said, on most weekday mornings I do tumble out of bed before dawn, heavy-eyed and yawning.  This is done not out of choice, mind you, but to fulfill my familial and workday obligations.  I am also charged with serving breakfast to Norton and the hungry clowder of neighborhood ferals.  They have certainly trained me well.  As I hurriedly dart about, I barely notice when daylight eventually does break.  In another life, I would be found snoozing well into the morning which is why I do so enjoy the luxury of a slower start to a weekend morning.  Those precious few restorative hours of slumber truly rejuvenate my body and soul.  Only then am I able to focus on a full weekend of running errands, visiting the farmers' market, gardening, social obligations, and general good old-fashioned fun.  

Sunday mornings are also when I am able to loll about in bed, enjoying a good read. I have only just cracked open a book that I purchased two years ago when I visited the charming collegiate city of Cambridge, England.  Titled Below Stairs In The Great Country Houses, Adeline Hartcup's fascinating book recalls with delicious detail several real-life accounts of how many of Britain's most famous country houses were run.  If you are a fellow devotee of the much-missed television series Downton Abbey, you too will enjoy reading about the strict hierarchy adhered to - and the minefield of social blunders to be avoided - by the many characters that lurked both above and below stairs.

How about you, which of life's little (long) weekend pleasures give you the most satisfaction?

The Porcelain Mystery Object Revealed

This diminutive drummer boy has a very specific purpose - can you guess what it is?

Photo: Chronica Domus

Well, I must say you are a clever bunch!  Thank you all for playing along in the latest mystery object game.  I can now reveal that the little drummer boy is indeed a vintage French féve.

For those of you that haven't a clue what in the world I'm rattling on about, a féve is a good luck charm or trinket that is baked into a celebratory cake called a Kings Cake, or to use its French name, a Galette de Rois.

Galette de Rois

Source

Kings Cake is traditionally served on Epiphany, January 6, to commemorate the day the Magi Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar bestowed gifts upon the infant Jesus.  In fact, a figure of a baby is often used as a féve in a Galette de Rois.  In New Orleans, Kings Cakes make an appearance in local bakeries anywhere from January 6 right up until Mardi Gras, which happens to fall on February 13 this year.  It is said that he who finds the féve is crowned king for the day and reaps all the benefits of the good luck that comes along with the charm.

Other countries have their own traditions centered around finding lucky trinkets in sweet treats.  Take the British, for example, and the long-held tradition of baking a silver six-penny piece into Christmas puddings.

Ah, there it is, the prized silver sixpence!

Source

Greece and some of the other Balkan countries bake coins into Vasilopita, a cake served at midnight on New Year's Day.  Vasilopita is named in honor of Basil of Caesarea and his famous coin and jewelry cake, baked and distributed to local families.  Here's a link to that story.

No Vasilopita is complete without the addition of a Drachma Euro

Source

The féve I selected to feature in my mystery object post is one of six that have somehow found their way to me.  I believe they were made during the first half of the twentieth century, or possibly earlier judging by their lovely muted colors and traditional forms.  Modern féves tend to be garishly decorated in lurid colors, and many are fashioned after popular cartoon characters.

Apologies to Minion fans but these little googly-eyed féves would be enough to
put me off my cake!

Source

Let me introduce you to my enchanting drummer boy's Lilliputian companions.

This lantern-carrying féve resembles a fisherman from a bygone era ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and these peasant women must surely be his shore-side companions

Photo: Chronica Domus

Here's the ship's captain and his young deckhand

Photo: Chronica Domus

How could one fail to be delighted at finding any of these charming fellows peeking from within a slice of cake?

Half a dozen years of good luck

Photo: Chronica Domus

Perhaps you too have had the good fortune of discovering a similar charm in a cake or a pudding.  Do please tell me about it, or of any other similar holiday tradition revolving around the unearthing of such lucky trinkets.

Thank you once again for being such good sports.  I look forward to sharing another mystery object with you in the not-too-distant future.

A Porcelain Mystery Object

Photo: Chronica Domus

It just dawned on me that the last time I published a post on a mystery object was last February.  So, today I present you with another, a little porcelain drummer boy, for your consideration.

The object is a scant taller than an inch in height and is attractively decorated in pleasing muted tones.  Although he requires no other companions, there are plenty more where he came from.

Do please tell me what you think his purpose is.  I will reveal all in my next post.

Happy guessing!

It's Been A Fun-Filled Couple of Weeks!

Happy New Year to you all!  Please forgive the paucity of posts over the last few weeks but as you might recall, I've been busy entertaining overseas house guests for the holidays.  We've all had a marvelous, fun-filled time but all good things eventually come to an end.  As such, we bid adieu to our guests at the airport this past Thursday with promises of a reunion over the next year.

Now that things have once again settled down at home, I've had an opportunity to fondly reflect upon the last few weeks.  As with so many others, an awful lot of celebratory feasting took place (between bouts of playing tour guide).  Perhaps that would explain my quickly expanding waistline.  Anyway, the culinary indulgences kicked off on Christmas Eve and continued right up through New Year's Day.

I was up early on Christmas morning and glimpsed the colorful sunrise from the balcony

Photo: Chronica Domus

No Christmas dinner table is complete in Britain without a novelty Christmas Cracker at each place setting to add to the merrymaking ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and a scrumptiously dense, booze-soaked, fruit-filled traditional Christmas cake

(this one was lovingly made by my dear mother months in advance to allow the flavors sufficient time to mature)

Photo: Chronica Domus

Here's what the table looked like right before we sat down to tuck into our Christmas feast ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and here's the grand finale, a traditional Christmas Pudding, topped with holly ...

Photo: Chronica Domus

... and set ablaze with a liberal dousing of brandy

Photo: Chronica Domus

And, what's Christmas Day without some postprandial entertainment to shake one from one's torpor? Eschewing a time-honored game or two of charades, furniture was instead pushed towards the drawing room walls, the music cranked up, and voila! a makeshift dance floor revealed itself.  Our guests and we managed to pull off all of our best moves, mastered long ago in some of Europe's finest discotheques during heady summer holidays.  We had an absolute blast!

The drawing room, after our spontaneous Christmas evening dance party had concluded - who needs extravagant disco lights when fairy lights will do!

Photo: Chronica Domus

Boxing Day and the days that followed were spent showing our guests some of the area's best places of interest. A day in wine country wound up in the quaint town of Sonoma with a lovely dinner at The Swiss Hotel.

A corner view of Sonoma's charming town plaza

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sonoma's City Hall and surrounding trees aglow in festive lights

Photo: Chronica Domus

A little window shopping in San Francisco's Union Square is always a fun diversion for out-of-town visitors.  On the evening we were there, the shops were buzzing with post-Christmas sales activity.

The madness that is Union Square during the post-Christmas sales

Photo: Chronica Domus

An enchanting gingerbread concoction displayed in the St. Francis Hotel's lobby on Union Square

Photo: Chronica Domus

Everything here is made of sugar including beribboned packages and elves that march up 

and down the gingerbread castle's staircase

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of the last excursions of the year was spent pleasantly cruising down the coast to Santa Cruz and admiring the spectacular views.

Photo: Chronica Domus

I adore walks along the beach, whichever coastline I am lucky to find myself upon

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our last dinner of 2017 was enjoyed at home in our very own dining room.  And, just to remind ourselves we were rapidly headed into a new year, I made sure to mark the occasion as follows:

A homemade mushroom and leek pie to herald in the new year

Photo: Chronica Domus

Of course, there were sweet treats too, including a King's Cake, baked in a crown mold, complete with lucky charm.

New Year's Eve desserts included juicy tangerines, a Kings Cake with a hidden lucky charm, 

and the Christmas fruit cake baked by my mother

Photo: Chronica Domus

That was a tasty bit of cake!

Photo: Chronica Domus

Another lit fire to keep us cozy until the midnight festivities began

Photo: Chronica Donmus

We barely made it to midnight and into 2018 without nodding off, a feat which becomes a little more challenging, I have observed, as one ages.  The dawn of a new year is, however, such a thrilling moment especially when one begins to ponder the possibilities and opportunities which may lay ahead.  I haven't missed one yet!

The scene from our balcony, with the smokey remnants of distant fireworks ushering in 2018
Photo: Chronica Domus

The morning after the night before

Photo: Chronica Domus

With the understandably slow (and late) start to the first day of the year, we took things in our stride and hopped into the motor car for a gentle drive up to some of the Gold Country towns of Northern California.  Most of the towns were deserted but it was nonetheless a lovely treat to wander around in relative tranquility.  The highlight of our day was the year's first sunset which had us pulling off to the side of a country lane and enjoying a truly spectacular sky.

I could almost hear Vivien Leigh uttering those famous words "As God is my witness"

Photo: Chronica Domus

Christmas in our household is well and truly over on January 6, the Twelfth Day of Christmas, or Epiphany.  This is the day we dismantle the tree and attempt to pack away the ornaments.  I counted two hundred and thirty-two of them on our evergreen tree this year, not including the topper.  There are more on the goose feather tree.  And, as I predicted, the ornaments are still laying about, cluttering up the dining room table.  A beautiful mess if there ever was one.

The prospect of packing all this away calls for a stiff drink!

Photo: Chronica Domus

I do hope that you too found plenty to celebrate during the festive season.  Please do tell me what some of your highlights were.

Whiteout At Lake Tahoe

Friday's headline news should have tipped us off for what lay ahead

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our continuing adventures in hot pursuit of some snow fun had us finally arriving in South Lake Tahoe this past Friday.  You may recall reading about our fruitless attempt to venture there several weeks ago, and the disastrous mudslides that closed the main highways into the Sierra Nevada mountains, along with the ensuing mayhem suffered by thousands of fellow car-bound snow seekers. We gladly put those shenanigans behind us - or so we thought - in hopes of witnessing one of the deepest snowpacks in recent memory. Astonishingly, the pack is at 186% of normal which is expected to see skiers on the slopes until July's Independence Day holiday.  What a winter this has turned out to be!

On Saturday morning, after tucking into a filling breakfast at our hotel, so conveniently situated at the base of Heavenly Mountain Ski Resort, we headed outdoors to catch a ride up the mountain.

Nope, we won't be catching sight of Heavenly Mountain's summit today!

Photo: Chronica Domus

As luck would have it, today was not the day to be darkening the doors of the gondola which we had expected to take us on a scenic 2.4 mile ride up the side of the spectacular mountain. Despite the sunny conditions, a severe winter storm warning with high winds was in effect which meant only skiers were permitted on the mountain.  As not everyone in our little party would be skiing, we were advised to try our luck the following day. Ah well, it was time to implement Plan B.

Not ones to miss an opportunity for exploration, we hopped into the Volvo and away we drove in search of adventure.  Across the California-Nevada border and over mountainous terrain we went in the direction of Carson City, Nevada's capital city.  As you can see below, the desert area stands in stark contrast to Lake Tahoe's forested snow-covered landscape.  It was also a balmy forty degrees warmer.

The sight of this hunk of ice along the desert road was quite a curiosity, apparently having fallen from the roof of a passing car

Photo: Chronica Domus

After lunch, we meandered across the mountains and back towards Lake Tahoe, stopping to take in the majestic views of the lake.

Photo: Chronica Domus

 Photo: Chronica Domus

Your eyes do not deceive, this is indeed a beach of snow

Photo: Chronica Domus

By now, we could feel the beginnings of the winter storm brewing.  The howling winds were barrelling down the mountains and the sun's weakened rays had given way to gloomy skies.  The mercury had also plunged notably, and rapidly.

There was one silver lining to lessen the disappointment of not having access to the other snow activities high up on Heavenly Mountain. Our daughter Patience was overjoyed to have her up-for-anything parents join her in a spot of snow saucering.  For those of you that have no idea what this entails, all I can say is that you should A) be prepared to take your life into your own hands, B) steady yourself to look very "uncool" in the eyes of everyone but a teenager, and C) be prepared to belly laugh like a deranged lunatic all the way down a slippery snowy slope, at great speed, while sat atop a plastic saucer more often than not travelling backwards.  I must tell you, it was a very liberating experience to say nothing of the fact that my daughter's estimation of her over-the-hill parents just went up several notches.  Although photographic evidence of this gentle author whizzing down the mountain on said saucer does exist, I am opting to keep that part of our adventure private. One does, after all, have a certain image to maintain.

On Saturday evening, the first flakes of snow began to fall.

The decorative iron street grates looked enchanting with a light dusting of snow

Photo: Chronica Domus 

By Sunday morning, our motor car was buried in two feet of snow, just in time for our journey home.

Our Volvo is under there somewhere

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our timing was impeccable; the drive home was a whiteout.  It took us four hours to crawl along seven miles of connecting road because of an ominous sounding "avalanche control" exercise taking place further into the mountains, temporarily closing the highway.  Listening to the distant booming sound of explosives shattering the silence as snow continued falling was surreal.

Once the road opened, we continued our grind home at a steady ten miles per hour in twenty degree temperatures.

I just missed snapping the thermometer as it dipped to twenty degrees Fahrenheit resulting in the windshield wipers freezing up with blocks of ice

Photo: Chronica Domus

Here is the view from the front passenger seat just before the windshield wipers froze:

At this point, conditions were actually getting quite unnerving, having already slid off the road and into a ditch once, and now having to brace the bone-chilling cold to chip away frozen ice from the windshield wipers every few miles
Photo: Chronica Domus

I question our judgment when I look at this insanely beautiful but hazardous mountainous road we safely negotiated, to much relief, with the help of our ever-trusty AWD Volvo wagon  

Photo: Chronica Domus

It was several more hours before we were out of the eye of the storm.  I counted our lucky stars upon making it safely through.  It was all so worth it for the views that awaited us were dazzling.  Surely, we had entered the Land of Narnia.

 Photo: Chronica Domus

 Photo: Chronica Domus

  Photo: Chronica Domus

  I was half expecting Mr Tumnus to appear from beyond the trees

Photo: Chronica Domus

 The serenity of a snowy winter landscape is unmatched in its beauty

Photo: Chronica Domus

After viewing the world through a monochromatic lens for the entirety of our journey, it was with welcome relief that we spotted a jolt of early spring color during a brief pit stop at the small gold mining town of Placerville.

Spring meets winter with the last remnants of snow at the feet of cheery yellow daffodils

Photo: Chronica Domus

Arriving home late on Sunday evening, we were glad for the adventure we had shared.  Our long weekend was not exactly how we had imagined it to be, faffing about in the powder on top of the mountain, but on reflection, I don't think I would have changed an action-packed minute of it. I am, however, suddenly hankering for a stint on a warm tropical beach.


Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.