Dad's favorite

Mom and I traditionally waited until Thanksgiving weekend to break out the candy thermometer and heavy pans for our annual candy-making extravaganza. But I start early. This year it was all I could do to wait until the calendar turned to November.

Pulling out the recipes each season reminds me of the people for whom each kind of candy or cookies is a favorite.  Peanut clusters and peanut brittle are for Dad.  He had a taste for the salt/sweet combination. Every year when I asked him what he wanted for Christmas, peanut clusters made the list. Because that was something I could afford, I was happy to comply.

It surprises me now that Mom and I never made peanut clusters. But we didn't. It took my sister-in-law Jeanne to get me started. Now I make them every year. They're easy. The recipe makes a lot. They store well.  And I enjoy remembering dad when I make them.

Peanut Clusters

2 lbs almond bark (white)
2 - 12 oz packages chocolate chips
2 lbs peanuts (dry roasted, salted)

Melt almond bark and chips in a heavy pan on low heat. Stir in peanuts. Drop by teaspoon onto foil or waxed paper. Cool. Store in tins in a cool place.  Makes about 18 dozen.

Many variations are possible. Some people use milk chocolate chips. I like semi-sweet. Last year I also made dark chocolate. They could be a new personal favorite. This recipe is easy to cut in half.

Just let me eat

"If you do see me in a restaurant. Please, just let me eat my dinner."  That's how Andy Rooney signed off his last CBS 60 Minutes essay.

Some two decades ago, I was eating lunch with a client in the Top of the World restaurant at the top of the World Trade Center. Two tables away, I spotted a man who looked just like Andy Rooney. The signature wild eyebrows caught my eye.

Leaning across the table I whispered to my client, a New York native, "That looks like Andy Rooney."

"If you see someone in New York who looks just like someone, it probably is," he responded.

Though I traveled to New York regularly, I could not get used to the idea that you might see someone like Andy Rooney eating two tables over. Even though my career was public relations and I should have been watching anyway, Andy Rooney was the reason I turned to 60 Minutes. His commentaries were witty and edgy and exactly right.

I thought briefly about approaching him that day in New York - not to ask for an autograph, which now I know he never signed - but just to find out if he was who I thought he was. Now I'm especially glad I didn't. In tribute to a man whose words I enjoyed so much, I'm glad I got that right.

* Photo Google images

That was then; this is now

November 2. Rain. Wind. 40 degrees. Snow in the forecast.

Ah the beauty of Iowa weather. Wait one minute and it will change.

Our pretty leaves only two days ago on the trees are rapidly covering the lawn and making patterns in the rain on the driveway.

I'm particularly grateful I spent Monday afternoon lying on the grass looking at the sky.

Holding on

It's 72 degrees. On November 1. In Iowa. Can you believe it?

Even though I have plenty of writing to do, I'm dawdling. I've been out for a walk. Out taking pictures. Out laying on the grass, looking at the sky. Even though I'm writing at this moment, my eyes are drawn to the sunshine with every other word. I know I'll be outside again shortly. I'm holding on to these beautiful fall days as long and as tightly as I can.

I'm like the trees. Though the ash trees dropped their leaves weeks ago, the maple trees are hanging on to their finery longer than normal. They've joined the oak trees in clinging until the last possible moment. Even the strong winds of the past several days have failed to make the trees loosen their grip on stunning yellow and red leaves.

In a last tribute to summer, the coneflowers are hanging on, too. I found these blooms near the patio. Their purple as fresh as though it was June instead of November. 

The snowstorms that hit the east coast this past week remind me of past October snowstorms in Iowa. Storms that dropped heavy wet snow on trees still sporting leaves, causing limbs to bow, and break, under the weight.  I'm glad that's not Iowa this year. 

I'm grateful mother nature is letting us hold on to summer for one more day. And believe me, I'm holding on tight, savoring the gift of the rare 70-degree day in November.