SF Weekend in Seattle

We had a lovely weekend attending the Science Fiction Hall of Fame inductions, along with the Locus Awards.  This year’s class of Hall of Fame inductees  is:

 Frank R. Paul

Michael Whelan

Connie Willis

Ed Ferman

Frank R. Paul was the first illustrator to make a living painting rocket ships and such  — his images were the heart of the science fiction magazine look in the 20s and 30s.  His daughters and grandson were in town for the induction –  a delightful family, with lots of stories going way back into the history of the field.  Here is Greg with the daughters,  Patricia Paul Franzke and Joan C. Paul Engle.

The Locus Awards banquet features a lot of hilarity with a Hawaiian shirt theme — here is Greg with John Kessel, who had just finished teaching a week at Clarion West, and Connie Willis, who  MCed the Locus Awards, post-banquet.

Connie, being a woman of exquisite taste and social responsibility, changed out of her rocket launch polyester Hawaiian shirt before the Hall of Fame induction.  Greg, making it into the trivia contest because of his Lilo and Stitch Hawaiian shirt, blew away the competition by 1) knowing most of the answers and 2) having incredibily fast hand-raising reflexes.  The prize was an autographed banana.  This year, to have a permanent memento, there were two bananas, one real, one plastic.

The wardrobe creativity extended beyond Hawaiian shirts — there was a Hawaiian print kilt that I didn’t get a picture  of, and Erica accessorized with a a wonderful mutant purse she made.

Part poodle, part bear, part monkey.

Perfect weather for the events, and yes, we kept watching the skies.

The real banana bravely met its inevitable fate, with a few raspberries from the garden for garnish.

Hybrid Technology

Hybrid technology is not just for cars. I was shopping for a new alarm clock, because Greg was truly tired of hearing the ticking of my old one, and found this boxy thing:

 

Silent night

It has both batteries and tiny solar panels. And best of all, no noise until the alarm goes off.

Care package

I had to send my daughter in college across the country a few things in the mail, and as Easter was approaching, decided to send along some candy as well. But not just any candy, it had to be special. Like this:

Say it with candy

Because nothing says “Happy Easter” like overdressed rabbits snuggling under a poisonous mushroom. And not just any rabbits, but happy German peasant rabbits.

Then this . . . errr . . . leaped out  at me at the grocery store:

Say you'll be mine -- forever.

Perhaps the creepiest movie tie-in ever.  Beyond weird.  

And not only that but collectible!

One of three

I’m so glad to have a daughter with as sense of humor as odd as mine.  Happy Easter, Alex!

Blogiversary!

Today is my second blogiversary.  Everything I wrote last year at this time holds true, only more so.  More online friends met in person, more yarn dyed and sold, a new product line started successfully,  more items knitted, and, yes, more time spent online!

My gift to you today is a recent sunrise, a thank you for stopping by here.

Winter sunrise

I went to the St. Distaff’s Spin-In last weekend, and had my best sales day ever. After the overcrowding of last year, the organizers found a new location in the cafeteria of the lovely Cavelero Mid High. The room is terraced, with stairs and ramps leading Escher-like to the many levels. It seems as if there were more vendors and fewer attendees this year, but in fact the opposite was true. I guess the layout confused the eye.

Spin-In vista

This is looking from my table up towards the top of the room. As usual, there were superior snacks, the remnants of my plate of which you can see.  Not only  Chukar Cherries, but homemade fried Rosettes.  Mmmm!

The blended batts sold out, so clearly I have to make more of them. 

Vendors are asked to donate  items for door prizes, and I managed to win one! It was near the end of the day, so the table was rather picked over (I was happy to see that my donated roving had been taken earlier), but investigating a lumpy bag with a scarf pattern visible on top revealed this treasure:

Door prize bounty

 Four skeins of Shetland 2000, in two natural wool colors, donated by the distributor, Yarns International.  This is genuine Shetland, from purebred sheep raised on those windy islands.  It’s the yarn called for in the included pattern, Vertical Stripe Scarf by Linda Lawrence.  That project didn’t quite set my fingers twitching, as I have just made a long scarf, but the idea of a traditional shawl appealed, and I remembered the Danish Tie-Shawl from the spring 2008 issue of Spin-Off. So that is cast on and growing.  I’m off to Washington, DC tomorrow to visit family, and it’ll be a great semi-mindless yet rewarding traveling project.

Schi

New Year’s Day found me with a pot of Schi simmering on the stove, which I posted as my status on Facebook and got some questions about, of the “What’s Schi?” variety. Let me tell how I learned  about it, and what it has become for our family.

Schi, simmering

Many, many years ago, Greg and I ran into our friends Rita and Julian Gilman at a movie theater one wintry night. After the show, they invited us for dinner.  “We’ve got a pot of schi on the stove, there’s plenty!” So we went, and had steaming bowls of a remarkable soup, simple, hearty, warming, ample; everything  a winter soup should be.  Julian learned to make it from his Russian grandmother, and explained that the name Schi is a shorted version of Borschi, or Borscht.  I’m not a Russian speaker, but I know that they like to make affectionate diminutives of names, and the word Schi strikes me as such a thing. I have great affection for this soup, and it’s become an annual ritual, making a large pot of it sometime after Christmas and sharing it with friends and family.

It’s not a beet borscht, but a cabbage one, and in this case the cabbage is in the form of sauerkraut. Do not fear the sauerkraut, all you sauerkraut-scaredy cats out there, because it is part of a harmonious whole, and does not make the soup taste of . . . y’know, sauerkraut.

Here’s the recipe — the method for measuring the spices strikes me as something very old, although the garlic powder must be a modern innovation.

SCHI

2-3 pounds chuck roast, cut into 1 1/2 inch cubes, excess fat removed
salt
black pepper
garlic powder
good quality sweet paprika
vegetable oil
2-3 large onions, peeled and cut into narrow wedges pole-to-pole
3-4 grated carrots
28 ounce can crushed tomatoes
1 package sauerkraut, drained and rinsed — If I can find it I prefer the kind that is in the refrigerated section, otherwise a good jarred sauerkraut will do

Make a pile of salt about 3/4 to 1 inch high. Cover with fresh ground pepper, then garlic powder, then paprika. Mix together, then sprinkle over the meat and pat it in evenly.

Brown the meat well in a large skillet in hot oil, cooking in 2 or 3 batches. Put meat into a large soup kettle — I use a 10 quart model. Deglaze the skillet with water and pour that into the kettle. Add remaining ingredients and cover generously with water. I bring the water up to about 2 inches from the top of my pot. Bring to a boil, then simmer covered for at least 3 hours.

Serve with sour cream and buttered caraway rye. Akvavit and herring is optional, but really takes it to the next level!

Schi with friends and family

For quite a few years now, our dear friends the Harrisons have joined us for Schi dinner. Jurate shares her Lithuanian holiday herring and bread bounty with us. It’s an evening we all look forward to, simple and satisfying.