Recipe for Yorkshire Pudding

4 Large fresh eggs
equal quantity of fresh milk to eggs
same with all purpose flour
pinch of salt
vegetable fat or pan drippings (best if you use Crisco...no, this is not health food.)

Mix the first four ingredients. Consistency should be somewhat like cake batter. Leave to sit for 30 minutes.

Put a pat of Crisco (about 1 tblsp) in each muffin hole of the muffin tin pan. You can make one big one in a big cake pan, but there is so much less fighting if everyone gets their own pudding. And they taste better this way.

Put the muffin pan in a 450 degree oven. When the fat is just smoking, ladle mixture in to 1/3 full. Bake for about 20 minutes. Keep a close eye on them, but don't open oven.

Serve with just about anything; pot roasts and roast turkey are the faves. Encourage guests to fill with a dollop of gravy. Delicious.

New photos

Found some guys who were willing to clear a site for barn and house for the price of taking the wood. Took some pics of the goings on. Things seem to be moving along considering we closed just one short week ago. Can't wait to see the barn go up. Tipper has staked out a place she calls Tipper Hill. Even though she does have a dainty walk and wears a plaid raincoat in stormy weather, she is no 'foo-foo' dog. Today, she squared off against a big orange tractor...and won.

Eastern Bluebird pair

Yesterday, a pair of Eastern Bluebirds visited us as we staked out a place for the barn. (Naturally, we're staking the barn instead of the house!) We did not take this photo, but isn't he beautiful? Bluebird males attract potential females by showing them all around their territory. If the female likes his bachelor pad she'll stay. If not, she searches for a mate that will provide a better place to nest. Bluebirds don't often visit feeders, but appreciate nesting boxes.

Pen-y-Bryn

Pen-y-Bryn means 'top of the hill' in Welsh. We chose this name from several equally good titles, but this one fits us best, honoring our British heritage and the terrain. Pen-y-Bryn, our Pen-y-Bryn is at the top of a hill. You have to climb a long, long way to get to it. We've climbed a long, long way to get to it. My mortal self wishes I could walk mom and dad over every inch of it, pointing out the mountain laurel, the paper birch, those tiny starfish paw prints from the possum that trundled through in the night. But, I know that mom and dad are safe in their spirit world, and after everything....they brought us to these precious acres. Mom's enthusiasm for life and dad's generous spirit have brought us to this place in our lives. A gift....

This blog is meant to be a journal of sorts to share with family and friends. A diary of our going home.