High Altitude Cooking

I am about to try to make a pecan pie. Pecan pie has always been one of my specialties, but this pecan pie will be made at 7900 feet above sea level, instead of the usual 200 or so feet.

When we first got this place in the mountains, everything I cooked was underdone, or overdone, or squishy in the middle and done on the sides, or just burnt. I'm a fairly decent cook and this was very disheartening to me, after 40+ years in the kitchen. I had seen those high altitude adjustments on the sides of boxes and packages, but it never occurred to me that this was my problem, until I had a conversation with my aunt, who had also had a cabin near here at one time. Ah-ha! Higher altitudes DO make a difference in how ingredients interact with each other.

This trip I've had better luck with things. Last week, I made a cake that turned out all right. It was kind of crumbly but I was using only ingredients I had on hand. The icing resembled penuche fudge, but it was OK, too. But this time, I'm making a pie for my son who is arriving tomorrow, and I want it to be as close to perfect as I can make it. So we will see how this pie project turns out.

From what I read, you have to adjust the sugar down, the fat up, and the oven temperature either up or down -- this seems to be a matter of opinion. When I've used the oven for various meal dishes, I have been adjusting up by 25 degrees, and this has been working pretty well. One variation on this whole affair was addressed by a cook in Denver, who adjusts up for a while during the baking time on the pie, then adjusts down toward the end. Might try that method. However, we are a good bit higher here than Denver, and every thousand or so feet seems to make a difference.

OK, I'm off to the kitchen to see how it goes. Will report back in a future post.

Onward ....

A Wild Hare, Smoke, Dust, and a Heatwave

I saw a black-tailed hare, a rare sighting in this area, I am told. Probably the fire over the mountain pushed the creature this direction. We were sitting on the circular staircase that leads up to the porch and deck -- me, the kitty, and the dog down at the base. I had just talked to Daddy on the cell and was watching the sprinkler dampen the dirt where my SO has optimistically planted grass seed. A little movement up the hill caught my eye. I saw the movement had already caught the eye of the cat. He was staring up the hill, through the pines. The ground is so thirsty, so dry and brown, that a dull-colored hare was not, at first, easy to see. I probably would not have if the thing hadn't moved. It was as tall as the dog, had ears that shot up pink and shaped like fat exclamation marks. He moved awkwardly, warily. And then the dog turned her attention from the fox-eared squirrels she worries all day, high in the top of the pines. Her shepherd head jerked around, ears forward. She's a sight-hunter and when she saw the hare move again, she was up and on the bound.

The hare took off, looking like a small antelope it moved so fast. The dog was halfway up the hill, and already past our property-lined when I called her back. There was no way she was going to catch that hare anyway. It was up the hill and gone in a flash, a wild thing on the run, an odd leaping gait, ears high, powerful back legs working. Even if I had thought to turn the camera on my phone towards the hare, I would not have been quick enough. The chance to see a black-tailed hare would have been missed.

My neighbor was envious when I told him what had happened. "Those are rare," he said, a little note of disbelief in his voice. He doesn't know me well enough yet to understand that I made sure of what I saw before I reported it to anyone. It isn't my way to make up something like that. For one thing, I don't have enough knowledge of nature and her ways to make it up. But I do have a good memory for unusual markings, for characteristics and body shape. And I have my trusty laptop and know the right "search" words to enter, Now, I find myself peering up the hill every evening at dusk, wishing for the hare to make a return appearance, even though I'm sure it won't. I know how much my SO would have enjoyed the experience, too.

It's hot. Man, is it hot. And it's smoky. Only the mornings are bearable and remind us of the loveliness from the winter and early spring. The fire over the mountains exhales in the afternoon, and continues to release rancid smoke that stops all outside activity. I long for the long evening walks with the dog, but the air is unhealthy. Any outside chores should get done before noon. The smoke, the dust from the road when cars go past, the record-breaking heatwave -- if it would just rain. Rain is what this country so badly needs. Rain, please, God. For the sake of the firefighters over the ridge, for the sake of the trees and the dusty ground, the grass, the dry streams, the wildflowers, for the sake of ME!

We're going to a Trash to Treasures sale at nine. We contributed some items to the sale, and now we're going to see what we might want to buy ourselves, and also to see if the stuff we took over there sells. Funny how you have hopes for silly things like that, for your castoffs to be useful to somebody else. The money made in the sale goes to the homeowners association for things like new lodge bedspreads, and fresh flowers planted in the beds by the restaurant. We simply needed to clean out our basement. The people who were here before had left a lot of what we consider junk down there. The rest of it is fit only for the dumpsters. We try to take a little each time we make a trip down the mountain to the garbage bins.

The boys are coming this Wednesday, flying in to Albuquerque, three hours drive away. I almost wish they could have postponed their trip. I'm desperate, as always, to see them both, but the conditions are such that I hate for this to be their first visit. I so much wanted the place to make a good impression, for them to see right away the appeal of this place to us, why we chose it and love it here so much. But with the fire and smoke, the heat and dust, this is not the green mountains we adore. My hopes were, I guess, too high. But the truth is, for the past two days, I have been longing for my Buffalo Wallow. At least there's air-conditioning back in Texas.

Onward ....

Fire in the Mountains

Our cabin sits in the middle of the Santa Fe National Forest. We have about 100 ponderosa pines on our 1.3 acres, as well as other trees - white oak, fur, etc. All of these trees drop either leaves or needles, and it has been so dry this year, that these dropped leaves and needles crackle underfoot. Humidity has hovered around 5%, and when the wind blows, it blows tremendously, reaching speeds of 50 mph. All of this makes this area vulnerable to forest fires.

And we have one. It's called the Pacheco Canyon Fire. It's burning about 19 miles away, over the Gascon Ridge. When the wind is right (or wrong) we get a lot of smoke. We drove down to Gascon and I took pictures of the fire. I sent one of the pictures to an Albuquerque television network and they published it on their website.

It scary to see a big plume of smoke on your immediate horizon. Even though all our neighbors have tried to abate my fears, they say we shouldn't worry until the fire crests the mountain ridge, it's still unsettling to look outside at an orange-yellow sky and to see flakes of ash sifting down onto the deck.

On another note: today my cat is officially 14 years old. He has rallied in recent days and seems happy here in the mountains. He drinks more water these days than I have ever known him to drink, and particularly likes to drink it outside. I'm just happy he's still with me, and have decided to enjoy the days I have him.

We went out with new friends last night, after drinks in their living room. They have a beautiful home, and I'm trying with all my might not to be envious. Ours is truly a simple cabin, was never meant to be anything but a cabin. That's the only drawback to having a place in a resort-ish community like this one. Our place was one of the first built here, back when there was no homeowners association, golf course, etc. Since the mid-80s the homes have gotten progressively more elaborate, until now, up on top of the mountain, there are million-dollar mansions with views to die for. Still, I admit it is fun to get gussied up and get to know new people. We were greeted by several people at the restaurant, mainly because of our friends, but it does make you feel like you belong. That's a feeling I truly do not mind.

Onward ....

All I Now Know About Black Bears

The black bear is the New Mexico state mammal. Black bears come in chocolate brown, black, cinnamon, honey, and blond. They can live as long as 30 years in captivity, but rarely that long in the wild. The females typically weigh around 90 to 150 pounds. The males can get up to 300 pounds. Their territory can range up to 350 miles, but is usually only about 25 square miles. They have sharper noses than a bloodhound, and are smarter than a German shepherd. In New Mexico, they go into hibernation in October or November, depending on the weather conditions, and come out of hibernation in March or April, but sometimes as late as June. When they first come out of their dens, they forage for grass and other browse, eating about 2500 calories a day. Towards the end of summer, however, they up their calorie intact to about 20,000 calories a day, putting on lots of fat for the long winter sleep. 

During this time of fattening up, they mate. But the female’s fertilized egg will not attach itself to the lining of her uterus until she has gone into hibernation. This is to save the energy it would take to grow a fetus while she is fattening for winter. Because of this delay, gestation can be 7 to 8 months, but the actual time when the fetus is growing is only about 2 months. When she comes out of her den, she will have one or two cubs to raise. They will weigh about 12 ounces (squirrel-sized). Cubs are weaned around seven months but will remain with their mother for up to 2 years.

Black bears do not typically attack humans unless provoked. They are basically docile, but they are relentless in their search for food. The will break into a car to get the candy bar still in its wrapper under the back seat. Their sense of smell is that acute. The will empty a hummingbird feeder in a few seconds. The will maul an outdoor grill to get to the grease on the bottom. They are constantly on the lookout for food sources. A compost pile is a gold mine. The easy pickings from humans turn black bears into instant food junkies and increase the chances of bear encounters.

If you live in bear country you should never leave food out, or fail to clean up your kitchen after you eat your meals. You should keep lower windows closed at night, garbage containers secured, and never feed them. In fact, it is against the law in New Mexico to feed them, either directly or indirectly, and you can be severely fined. If a bear comes into contact with humans, it usually must be put down. It’s best to avoid this, as they will generally leave you alone. If you feel threatened by a bear, you can use pepper spray to deter it. Most of the time they will only bluff charge and something like pepper spray will send them on their way. 

They make various sounds which mean various things. They have a way of clicking their teeth, making a hollow sound like a bamboo rod on a fence. When they do this, they are attempting to smell food. They rarely growl except in movies. Only 10% of their diet consists of meat and fish. They are excellent climbers and may stay up a tree most of the day, coming down in the evening to forage until dawn. If you see a bear raise on its hind legs, head and nose up, it is hunting for food. If you see a bear, don’t make eye contact, but also, don't run. They will usually avoid contact unless they sense that you are a threat, like a mother with cubs.

There have been many bear sightings in our development. Last year a yearling cub fell over into the dumpster down by the maintenance shed. It broke its neck and the New Mexico Game and Fish people had to be called to put it down. The man who did that deed came and spoke to all of us at a Town Hall meeting on how to be "Bear Aware." I feel I know a lot more, now, about black bears, and I am even more scared of them than I was before.

Onward .....

Before We Move; the Mountains Again

And so, before we make a big move, it's probably a good idea to spend more time up here in the mountains. If for no other reason, than to experience the changing weather.

We got here on Tuesday, which happened to be my birthday. The paint job in the front room was a pleasant surprise. It really does brightened things. I don't feel like I'm in such a cave anymore. A handy man came yesterday and spent the entire day, doing odd jobs. He hung the new chandelier and it completely changed the way the dining area looks. I'm getting happier with the interior by the minute. I like the curtains I made, too, although I don't think my SO does much. They cost me about $7 and my labor, about an hour and a half at the sewing machine. We hung the new blind in the laundry room. It's a cerulean color, a cellular blind but one that opens so it's possible to still look outside but should keep that room warmer in winter. It cost more than $400 but I won't go into that.

It's hot here. I'm not happy about that. The big front room is especially hot. We're having the handy man back next week to install some ceiling fans. I can't sleep when I'm hot and I'm kind of wary of leaving windows open at night since it's bear season. We don't have any a/c. Nobody up here does. Right now, we need it during the day. It got up to 88 yesterday afternoon. I don't like to sweat. In fact, it's hard to sweat with only 5% humidity. But it's still better than being back in Texas where heat indices yesterday were between 107 and 109 degrees. If it would only rain a little I think it would cool things off. Everywhere, really.

We came in two cars. I wasn't wild about that, but we had too much to haul and I wanted my car here to pick up my son and his partner from the Albuquerque airport in two weeks. Plus, my SO will be working next week, and the vehicle we've left here has no working a/c. I, at least, want to be cool in the car. I brought the cat with me. I think the trip was hard on him. His kidneys are functioning poorly and he wet the carrier several times, which is not like him at all. But I anticipated this and put piddle pads under him and carried extras. He did finally start drinking water in his carrier while we were on the road. That's a first. He's doing as well as can be expected. I'm happy to have him with us. And we have our little kitty hospice setup in the living room here just as we had back in Texas.

Two days before we left the dog was bit again by a large copperhead. It happened late on Saturday, and this time she was very sick. During the night she began to go into shock, and I had to cover her with a blanket and lie in the floor with her until her shaking stopped. It was scary and upsetting for both of us, and I vow the next time to take her to a vet no matter what time of day it happens. Fingers crossed that there will be no next time.

So, here we are again. I will try to do better with this blog.

Onward ....

A Buffalo Named Rose

When we first looked at this house, a little over three years ago, there was a buffalo living here. Her name was Rose and she was about half-grown. She scared people. I think she probably scared potential buyers away, much to our good fortune. There are exactly 2.77 acres here, and Rose had decimated all of them. Not a blade of grass grew. Tufts of buffalo fur clung to fences and trees. Buffalo "pies" littered the ground.

Poor Rose was lonely. She was misunderstood. My real estate agent was afraid of her. The owner would have to try to pin Rose up to show the property. Rose didn't like being pinned. She broke down the gate. It was told to us that Rose killed raccoons, that there were often raccoon carcasses lying around. But she also had a little cat-friend. A black and white tuxedo kitty, a stray who climbed trees and hung out around Rose, seemingly without fear.

When we arrived to look at the house, our real estate agent was already inside. She opened the front door and beckoned us to hurry in, that Rose was loose. We had already seen Rose over by the patio. We toured the house. We liked the layout. We liked the geodesic dome in the center, the uniqueness of it. We could see past the dirty pink carpeting and all the needed repairs. Most were cosmetic. But my SO was also interested in the lay of the land. He asked to go out and walk the property. The real estate agent said, "But there's a buffalo out there." My SO said, "OK. You don't have to go with me."

The agent cringed as he exited. She continued to show me interior features, but she kept a close eye on my SO outside walking the perimeters. Finally, I joined her at one of the windows. Out along the high boundary fence, there walked my SO. Close behind him, curious and cautious, was Rose. She followed him like a puppy, keeping about ten feet between herself and the strange man. As I explained that he was born and raised on a farm, had done ranching, been around livestock all his life, the real estate agent clearly delighted in watching Rose following him around as he inspected the grounds. The agent began to call my SO "The Buffalo Whisperer."

Obviously, we liked the place. We came back to look a few more times before an offer was made. We began to call it The Buffalo Wallow, because that's pretty much the way it looked, bare dirt, all those tufts of fur hanging about. There are over 80 trees on this small bit of land. I think more than anything, it was the trees that sold the house. We knew they would be a pain when leaf-shedding time came. There were drifts of leaves everywhere, years of leaves because the house had been sitting empty for at least two years that we knew about. We made the offer. We were shocked when it was accepted. The owner clearly just wanted to be rid of the place. We wondered if we could have offered even less than the low-ball offer we had made. Instant equity. And the economic crisis had not even hit Texas yet.

There are still signs of Rose. Occasionally we come across one of her pies, or a bit of buffalo hair. Mainly, the grass has never recovered completely. It's on the mend, but slowly. There was once a working sprinkler system, and Saint Augustine covered the ground. We have found a few leftover runners and have babied them along through two extended, devastating droughts. It is a little bit of paradise here, but it is hot. And it is a lot of upkeep. We like to travel. We go away for a few weeks and come back to as many weeks worth of work to get the place back into shape.

I fall in love with houses, with spaces, with lawns and porches, with seeing my stuff just the way it suits me. I have to desensitize myself when I began to think of leaving a place. I have to let go of the visions I have, the daydreams of future times. I have to fall out of love. I'm in the midst of that process as I write this. Of giving up on my Buffalo Wallow.

Onward ....

June Budding

First day of June. I hope this is a better month. It's hot as hell outside, and I can't wait to get back to the mountains. Wanting to spend my birthday there this year. Actually, more and more, I'm wanting to move there permanently. The painter has been there since we left, and I'm anxious to see how it turned out. Little apprehensive about the color I chose for above the fireplace. I was attempting to match or blend with the bricks, and I'm worried it could be too garish or dark. Fingers crossed.

Last night I talked to a carpenter about some of the things I want to do next up there. He seemed nice and competent. He came to me recommended by the lady who cat-sat for me back in January. I liked her, and trust that since she runs the recycle center she knows just about everyone in the area. We sure don't. And there is a tendency for people to hear where the cabin is and then to want to stick it to us on price. It does no good to explain that ours is one of the smallest and oldest houses in the development.

Emailed with the real estate agent friend who helped me with the last three houses. Without looking at all the improvements we have made to this house in Texas, which she also sold to me, she quoted a figure she thought we could get if we sold right now. It was a good price, not as high as I hoped, but certainly a good bit more than I paid. With the economy still in a general slump, even with the oil/gas boom going on locally, I would be happy with that price. I could pay off the loan here and the loan in New Mexico, get totally out of debt, and still have money leftover for remodeling the kitchen up there. Certainly is tempting. The only holdup is the fact that I would be moving 800+ miles from my dad.

Meanwhile, we continue to nursemaid the kitty. The last prednisone shot gave him a real boost, but it does seem to be wearing off somewhat. I'm concerned about taking him with us on the long long car trip, but I don't know what else we can do. He sleeps a lot, and is distant, but still engaged and active.

There's an unusual phenomenon taking place with him and I don't know if it's typical or not with an animal who is dealing with a terminal disease like lymphoma. He is exhibiting regressive behavior, doing things he has not done since he was a youngster. He's catching lizards and grasshoppers, spending his naptimes lying on sheets of newspaper, asking to go outside, and then doing his latrine business out there. All of these are habits that have long been stowed away since he moved inside the house, but that have obviously remained in his psyche.

It's probably some comfort to him to fall back on old ways. I don't know. I do know that he has pulled away from me, no longer wants to cuddle much or have his head petted or any of the lovey-dovey things we have done with each other for years. My friend, who used to work for a vet, thinks it's him weaning me away. Interesting idea, but I don't think I buy it. I don't believe that animals have the same sort of thought-processes humans do. But there could be something to the idea of our bond breaking down because of the disease. I think his brain has been affected somewhat. I'm still touched by certain moments, but mostly saddened by the loss of closeness. Still, I will continue to help him all I can, through this last stage of his life.

Onward ....