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Keswick Life

COVER STORY: The Gift Hunter’s Guide – Irresistible gifts that celebrate a Keswickian’s unshakeable spirit

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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From bubbles to charitable gifts the items in this year’s gift guide all share one guiding principal, authentic country living. Plenty of useful stuff, all perfect for the tough-to-shop for Keswickian.

In Vino Veritas your wine shop ‘east’ of Charlottesville says it’s a great time of year to come in for the holidays as they have plenty of gift giving options! Come by every Friday for a wine tasting from 4:30-7pm. 3015 Louisa Rd, Keswick at Shadwell Corner; 434-977-6366; Open Monday-Saturday

Michael Turk Company’s Belgian Cover Up for kids. Hand-loomed 100% bamboo combines both flexibility and extra protection from the sun. The fibers provide natural UV protection as well as a soft to the touch feel, fast drying and ultra-absorbent performance with bacteria resistant qualities. www.madeincharlottesville.org

Will Coleman Equestrian offers a rare, special, gift option – inquire on ownership in one of the syndicates. Regarded as one of the top event riders in America and a 2012 Olympic athlete, Will has carefully produced and competed horses at the highest levels of eventing.  Tivoli Farm, Gordonsville, 434-981-1629, www.willcolemanequestrian.com

Floradise Orchids’ lavish custom orchid arrangements will bloom through the Holidays into the New Year in one-of-a-kind containers. Orchids in heirloom species and superb blooming varieties. Weekly delivery. ($175+; Gordonsville, 540-832-3440, visit Wednesday thru Sunday:  10am – 5pm)

Donate a gift to Help Save The Next Girl and 100% percent of your money goes to the primary focus: to spread safety information and prevent future crimes against young women. (donations can be mailed to: Help Save The Next Girl, PO Box 8062, Roanoke, VA 24014) 

Habitat for Humanity of Greater Charlottesville, has so many ways to give aid or financial support.  The money you invest in assisting a Partner Family, whose payments generate the funds that go directly toward building additional homes. (donate a gift on behalf of a friend, call 434-293-9066)

Instant Shade will work with you to pick the perfect tree for that special gift for Christmas, to commemorate a birth or other special occasion. Call Ralph to make this unique gift, custom arrangements or to visit the nursery off of Polo Grounds Road, Charlottesville. Plant a tree! (fees vary, 434-981-8733)

Charlottesville-Albemarle SPCA  Your caring and generosity make it possible for these guys to continue its life-saving work. One of the few No Kill communities in the entire nation; but their job is far from over as pets are in need. No gift is too small or too large. To make your gift call or visit www.caspca.org.

Hospice of the Piedmont offers great savings at many of the area’s best restaurants, theatres and vineyards with their 2020 hibernating edition of ‘Dining  Around the Area’ coupon book. An estimated value of more than $1,200, the dining books make a great gift from the heart.  ($50; call 434-817-6900, or log in: www.hopva.org)

CASA Piedmont, support by generous donors enable these advocates to help over 200 children last year. They rely solely on the support from caring individuals. No other agency provides community volunteers to serve as child advocates in juvenile court proceedings. (call 434-971-7515 to donate)

Monticello Annual Fund Your gift will significantly aid in the enhancement and stewardship of Jefferson’s Monticello — the only home in America recognized by the United Nations as a World Heritage Site — one of the world’s greatest cultural treasures. For further information please visit: www.monticello.org

Piedmont Environmental Council Your contribution will help sustain the organization and help keep the Piedmont a wonderful place to live and work. With a donation of $35 or more you will also become a PEC member or renew your existing membership. Contact Karissa Epley at [email protected] or 540-347-2334.

Our mailing address is: The Montpelier Foundation, P.O. Box 911, Orange, VA 22960.

Laurie Holladay can make a lamp from almost anything. Build a lamp, fuse a memory with function. Give this shop a riding hat, riding boots, antique seltzer bottles, duck decoys, toys, bottles, vases, trophys and watch Mr. Holladay transform it into an unforgettable gift. (123 South Main Street, Gordonsville, 540-832-0552)

Stokes of England  has candlestands! This local blacksmith shop has custom hand-forged architectural iron works and turn out detailed wrought-iron railings, stair cases and doors for royalty all over the world.   Visit their shop to discuss custom orders. (117 South Main Street, Gordonsville, 540-832-7888)

Montpelier Farm  Every bale of hay, quart of grain, halter, horseshoe, and vaccination is made possible by generous donors. Sponsoring a permanent resident at Montpelier makes a wonderful gift for someone special.  Please call our TRF Montpelier Development office with any questions, a donation of any size is gladly appreciated, call Nancy Lowey 540-672-3454.

Montpelier Charitable gifts from generous donors allow Montpelier to open the doors every day to visitors, students, scholars, and international leaders from emerging democracies. Your gift honors James and Dolley Madison and shares their legacy with the nation and the world. Please contact [email protected] or call (540) 661-0253. Our mailing address is: The Montpelier Foundation, P.O. Box 911, Orange, VA 22960.

Beautycounter, this season’s essential gift set, a limited-edition hand wash and lotion in a fresh neroli scent, packaged in elevated, sustainable frosted glass bottles.  The gentle hand wash cleanses without stripping skin, while the fast-absorbing lotion hydrates and conditions with shea butter and jojoba oil. Pampered hands! ($65; call consultant Sierra Young, 540-290-5478)

Gregory Britt Design will bring your special someone beautiful holiday décor, custom centerpieces, wreaths, tree decoration and magnificent mantels sure to brighten the day. Simply call with a budget and he will get to work.  (cost varies; 5445 Gordonsville Road, Keswick – in the heart of Cismont, 434-548-0580, www.gregorybrittdesign.com, delivery service available)

The Little Keswick Foundation for Special Education has several methods of making contributions that will enable the donor to enjoy personal financial benefits while supporting their mission to support children who experience learning disabilities and/or emotional behavior issues.  Visit www.lkfse.org

Danny & Ron’s Rescue Calendar features photos and stories of some of the many dogs rescued.  All proceeds from the sale of this calendar will be used to help Danny & Ron’s Rescue, based in Wellington, FL, and Camden, SC, whose mission is to help homeless dogs find loving families to adopt them. Contact: [email protected]

The Calendar is available online for only $20 each (+ $3 shipping) and 100% of the proceeds go directly to our rescue efforts! 

Private Libraries is more than just a bookseller, Kinsey Marable & Co. assembles private libraries unique to each client. Let Kinsey assist in building your private library, recommend acquisitions, investigate authenticity, find rare or out-of-print volumes and help you understand the fair value of books. (202-329-8313, www.privatelibraries.com)

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Filed Under: Cover Story

TRAVEL: Argentina Recollections

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Charles Thacher

Christmas is drawing nigh, the weather has changed, and the seemingly endless election is over – or is it? In the time of Covid, uncertainty stalks the land. Will a vaccine really work? Or maybe three or four? Will we have a choice, and how would we know which to choose? In this age of fake news and rampant conspiracies, will enough people agree to take a vaccine to create herd immunity, or will we still be masking next summer? We’re in Rummy’s world of known knowns, known unknowns and unknown unknowns. My personal known unknown is that I will probably not be going to Argentina to fish in 2021, for only the third time in over two decades, since Covid has closed the country indefinitely for American visitors. 

My first trip to Argentina was in January, 1995, with my son Tom, then a college senior. After spending a few days sightseeing in Buenos Aires, we flew about 1,000 miles southwest to San Carlos de Bariloche, the largest city in Argentine Patagonia. Brock Richardson, our guide for the trip, met us at the airport with his van.  Bariloche is situated on the large and beautiful Lago Nahuel Huapi, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. By the way, the names of the lakes, rivers and many other features in Patagonian Argentina, are not Spanish, but from the spoken languages used by the region’s indigenous tribes. We by-passed the City and Lake, to head a couple of hours north for a two day stay at the Primavera Lodge on the famous Rio Traful, which runs from Lago Traful for about 10 miles into a reservoir. 

Hector in action.

The Traful is known for its lovely turquoise pools, fascinating rock formations, enormous trout, and landlocked salmon, the latter a rarity in Patagonian rivers. Our Lodge and its entire side of the river was acquired by American magnate, Ted Turner, in 1998, and is now off limits to everyone except for himself and his guests, which angers many Argentines, who consider the River a national treasure. The other side of the River is owned by an Argentine family that operates one of the more luxurious and expensive fishing lodges in the world. There is a hatchery on the Traful, and some of the best fishing is just downstream from it, as the hatchery food leaks into the River, and the fish eat constantly with minimal effort, often becoming obese, much like a dump bear. We caught some very nice trout of over 4-pounds throughout the river, but in the hatchery section Tom hooked a real monster. The fish rocketed up from the bottom and attempted a jump, that I suppose it remembered being able to do in its youth, but in its now-corpulent state, it failed and as its tail was about to clear the water, it collapsed and fell on the leader, breaking it. The fish of a lifetime, but we had to laugh. We guessed that it was nearly two-and-a-half feet long, and weighed well over than ten pounds. Later, at the Lodge, we examined the logbook and found numerous entries in past decades describing trout that were of similar bulk.  During that first stay, we were introduced to the wonderful Argentine flan, served with dulce de leche, the delectable caramel-like sweet sauce – made from slow-cooking cow’s milk and sugar – which Argentines eat on many foods, and is now popular in the U.S. The combination remains a favorite of mine.

Mate cups.

We left the Traful and drove several hours northeast to the fabled Chimehuin River, which drains from Lago Huechulaufquen, near the Chilean border, and runs about forty miles before joining the Aluminé River. Our first encounter with the Chimehuin went badly. The wind was blowing a gale, even on Patagonia’s lofty standards, and there were few bushes or trees lining the banks to block it. Casting a dry fly with our light rods in such a powerful wind was hopeless, so we fished under the surface with weight and short lines. As we were standing in the current, the raging wind literally blew us upstream. And because it was swirling, even fishing a short line was difficult and risky to our body parts. It was most unpleasant and after a couple of hours of catching nothing, Brock decided that we would move to a section of the River that had better wind protection. 

Just after pulling out of the field where we were parked, traveling on the rough dirt road heading toward the main paved road, we picked up an Argentine soldier hitchhiking back to his base, which Brock said was about 20 miles away.  Brock spoke only a little Spanish and Tom & I even less, so we couldn’t ask him how and why he got there. Minutes after picking him up, the van sputtered a couple of times, then died.  The soldier immediately got out and started walking up the road, wisely escaping his ride from hell. Brock got under the van and came back with the bad news – a broken accelerator cable. Then we noticed that several hundred yards up the road the soldier leaned over, picked up something, turned around and was walking back toward us. When he reached the van, he showed us what he had found – a wire hanger. Brock immediately got it, saying “that’s our cable.” Amazingly, it seemed that our guest must have quickly diagnosed the problem and, like any good soldier, he marched off to find a solution. We couldn’t determine which of the events that we had witnessed was the most bizarre – that a soldier was hitchhiking on a remote dirt road leading to nowhere but a dead end, that there was a wire hanger lying along that same road, or that the soldier found the hanger and knew that it was what we needed. In any event, we felt partially blessed, then fully after Brock added to our wonderment, by crafting a working cable from the hanger, and attaching it. The van coughed a bit, and wouldn’t go very fast, but we were on our way again. 

Brock rightly decided to drive the soldier back to his base, and used his satellite phone to call a local friend, Hector Scagnetti, and ask him to come meet us. He arrived, left his car for us to continue fishing, and drove the sputtering van the hour or so back to his home in San Martin. We had a mediocre afternoon on a slightly less windy stretch of the River. Brock mentioned that Hector and his wife Ida owned Cabañas Arco Iris, a group of five lovely small houses on their property, which they rent to tourists, and that Hector had asked him if the three of us would like to join his family for dinner at their house, close to our hosteria (small hotel). We jumped at the chance. When we arrived at their house, Hector and Ida met us, accompanied by their two children, Mariana, a senior in high school, and her two-year younger brother, Ezequiel. Hector was standing by our van, and said something in Spanish to Brock, the only bit that I could understand being the words “Americanos” and “jury-rig”. I asked Brock what he had said, and he wasn’t exactly certain, but thought it translated roughly as “You Americans don’t know how to jury-rig anything”. I was surprised that someone who spoke very little English would know the odd expression “jury-rig”, but many subsequent experiences in Argentina have enlightened me as to its importance. In a couple of hours, Hector had taken the same hanger and built a “proper” cable. It worked perfectly for the remainder of our trip, and two years later Brock told me it was still on the van and doing fine.  

Dinner with the Scagnetti family was delightful. Ida served a superb Italian-Spanish fusion meal, and Hector’s local wines were excellent. Mariana, had studied English and was fluent. Her parents and brother spoke only a few words of English, so Mariana interpreted for all of us. She was smart, self-confident, attractive and funny – very impressive. At a point in the engaging evening, I asked her whether she was going to university. She said that her family could not afford it, and she hoped to get a job in the travel industry, as San Martin was a popular tourist destination. I suggested that, given her command of English and obvious intelligence, perhaps she could get a scholarship to attend an American college. When Mariana explained to Hector what I said, he nearly choked on his food. He was not happy, no doubt wondering why this American stranger would plant the thought with his beloved daughter of leaving home to attend school abroad, and how the family could ever afford the cost of such a venture.  But the seed germinated, and it serendipitously led all of us on an unexpected and wonderful relationship that has lasted for over 25 years. When I returned home, I checked with several colleges in the Northeast and found that Mariana would need to take the International SATs to be considered for admission, which was impossible for her. But Brock contacted Westminster College, an excellent small school near his home in Salt Lake City, and it did not require the exams. So, Mariana went there with generous support from the Richardson family, graduated in three years while working several jobs, married a Utahn, and has built an impressive career in finance. She became head of Latin American client services for a large Western bank, and is now running her own private wealth management business in Salt Lake City, that serves many prominent Latin American business owners and their families. A real American immigrant success-story.

After our dinner, which ended at nearly midnight, Brock asked Tom if he’d like to go to the local disco. I told them it was okay with me, but we were gathering for breakfast at 8AM, regardless of how little sleep they got or how hung-over they were. They staggered in about 7AM. Tom said that there were only a few people in the disco until after 2AM, then a huge crowd showed up, and he and Brock were among the first to leave. This story seemed far-fetched, but gained credibility, when we noted as we left our hosteria about 9AM, that two young men who were employed behind the desk, were just arriving for work, directly from the same disco. Brock and Tom had a rough day, but to their credit, we lost no fishing time. 

After the night in San Martin, we traveled nearly 100 miles north, mostly on dirt roads, with excellent fishing in three other fine rivers, before returning to Bariloche to fly home.  It was a great trip, and I was eager to return. Two years later I did. I bought a few maps to do some planning, and decided that I could rent a car and find access to the rivers that we had fished, and perhaps others, without use of a guide. I have always preferred to fish alone or with a friend. I faxed Hector to see if he would like to fish with me for a few days, assuming that he could get my message translated.  He responded that he would, and even invited me to stay at their house. 

In early February, 1997, I traveled to San Martin. I had identified a spot on the drive from Bariloche where the road crossed the Quilquihue River, and it looked to be about a one mile walk down to its confluence with the Chimehuin. The Quilquihue was too deep and closed in by willows to walk in, there was no obvious trail, and it took far longer to bushwhack through the trees and the damnable briars than I expected. When I got to the Chimehuin, I was at the head of a long, deep pool, lined on my side with large willows. A beautiful riffle entered the pool over a gravel bar. As lovely a spot as I could imagine. But to fish the pool I had to wade across the river, which was over 20 yards wide, up to waist deep and moving fast. I made it, but not without considerable trepidation. The wind was blowing hard. At the top of the pool, on the far side under a big willow, and barely within my casting range, was an eddy – a typical spot for fish to be feeding.  I put on a big dry fly and cast it into the eddy, where it immediately began to drag unrealistically. Damn! Then bam! A large trout hit it, jumped several times, and eventually I landed the 19” rainbow. A few minutes later I caught a clone of that fish in the same spot with the same ersatz technique. As I moved downstream, fishing across the pool to the willows on the far side, no fish moved. At some point, I lazily let my line drift until it was straight downstream, and as I raised my rod and began stripping it in, it was eaten by a large brown trout, which I soon netted. It suddenly dawned on me that these fish wanted floating flies being pulled upstream. The rest of the day that’s how I fished through the big pool and two below it that were similar. It was one of the best days of fishing that I have had, with about 30 fish from 15”-20” coming to the net, using a strange technique, and despite the relentless wind.  

I was a bit anxious as I drove to Hector’s house, as we had met previously only for a few hours and hardly spoken at all. But when he greeted me with a warm welcome, speaking English, I completely relaxed. I had a wonderful dinner and evening with him, Ida and Ezequiel (Mariana was in College in the U.S.), exchanging information about our lives and families, and of course I told him about my exceptional day of fishing. He had never been to the spot and wanted to go there the next day, which we did, finding a much better route for walking. Of course, it was like a different river. The wind had subsided, the fish wouldn’t touch a fly that was swimming upstream, and we each caught six or eight – not bad but far short of my solitary experience just one day earlier. We fished together on another famous river, the Malleo, for two more days, then I went farther north to fish by myself for five days, before returning to San Martin, then home. 

Fishing with Hector introduced me to mate (pronounced matay), an herbal tea made from leaves of the yerba mate plant, which contains caffeine and a second mild stimulant. Nearly everyone who I’ve met in Argentina drinks mate, often throughout the day. Typically, a small ornamental cup is about half-filled with ground leaves, and hot water is added. A silver straw is used to drink the mate, serving as a filter to block leaf particles from being in the drink. Mate is quite bitter, and I find it difficult to digest. It’s ritualistic, a bit like smoking pot fifty years ago. When a cup of mate is prepared, it is often passed around to whoever is present, and guests are traditionally offered the first drink, which is supposed to be the purest and best. Hector would drink mate with breakfast, for twenty minutes or so before he would begin fishing, then take a mate break during the day, and often have cup when we arrived back at the car. Usually, mate was accompanied by a cigarette. While he was drinking, I was often fishing, yet he generally caught as many fish as I did. Perhaps a bit more contemplation on my part would enhance my success.

While staying with Hector and Ida, I have gotten to know San Martin. With a population of about 25,000, but many more in the summer, it is the nicest town that I have visited in all of South America, and for me, the equal of any in our Rockies. It has a gorgeous setting, next to the beautiful Lago Lacar, surrounded by high mountains, and has a fine ski area, public beach. excellent restaurants, hotels, shops and a myriad of summer outdoor activities, such as hiking, fishing, camping and golf. It is very clean, and looks Tyrolean, with many half-timbered houses and finely crafted wooden buildings. And, apparently, a thriving disco.

In subsequent visits to Argentina, I have fished in dozens of rivers extending over a region running from 300 miles south of San Martin to 100 miles north. On several trips Ann has joined me, not only for fishing, but to visit sites such as the spectacular Iguazu Falls, Mendoza and its wine country, and the excellent beaches in nearby Uruguay and Brazil.      

But, even more rewarding than the great fishing and sightseeing, has been  the warm friendship that Ann and I developed with Hector and Ida. We have joined them in Salt Lake City, Paris, Washington D.C, and our homes in New York and Virginia. We have also visited Mariana in Utah and New York, and Ezequiel, when he lived for several years in Belgium. And, it all started because of a broken accelerator cable. 

Tragically, Ida passed away three years ago, and we miss her terribly, but we have enjoyed meeting the charming Monica, who Hector knew in high school, and recently reconnected with through Facebook. Those trips, and my subsequent fishing excursions in Argentina, have provided fodder for future articles, that I hope to write.

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Filed Under: Travel Journal

ENTERTAINING: Leek Bread Pudding – Sam’s Go To Brunch

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Sam Johnson – Deputy Director of Cullinary | 1776

Sam’s Leek Bread Pudding is sure to please at your next brunch, gather up a group of friends and share a meal this winter!  This libation pairs well and helps set the festive spirit: 

Maple Rosemary Bourbon Punch

  • 4 Cups of Ice
  • 750 ML Ginger Ale
  • 1liter of Cranberry Juice
  • 16 oz of Bourbon
  • Maple Syrup to taste
  • Fresh Rosemary

Sam’s Leek Bread Pudding

  • 2 cups 1/2-inch-thick slices leeks, white and light green parts only, cleaned and rinsed
  • 2 ½ cups of button mushroom
  • 2 cups of sweet peas
  • Kosher salt
  • 4 tablespoons (2 ounces) unsalted butter
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • 12 cups 1-inch-cubed crustless brioche or challah bread
  • 1 teaspoon fresh thyme 
  • 1 teaspoon of rosemary
  • 1 teaspoon of fresh chopped garlic
  • 6 large eggs
  • 3 cups whole milk
  • 4 cups heavy cream
  • 2 cups of white wine
  • 2 cups shredded parmesan cheese
  • 2 cups of jalsberg cheese for topping

Directions

  1. Place a medium sauté pan over medium-high heat, drain excess water from leeks, and add to pan also add chopped garlic. Season with salt, and sauté until leeks and mushrooms begin to soften, about 5 minutes, then reduce heat to medium-low. Stir in butter, and wine Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until leeks and mushrooms are very soft, about 20 minutes for the last 10 minutes add peas. Adjust salt and pepper to taste.
  2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. While veggies are cooking, spread bread cubes on a baking sheet and bake until dry and pale gold, about 20 minutes, turning pan about halfway through. Transfer to a large bowl, leaving the oven on.
  3. Add veggies, rosemary and thyme to the bowl of bread; toss well. In another large bowl, lightly whisk the eggs, then whisk in milk, cream, a generous pinch of salt, pepper to taste.
  4. Make sure pan is coated well with cooking spray. Mix together bread veggies and parmesan cheese spread out evenly in pan.
  5. Pour in enough milk mixture to cover bread, and gently press on bread so milk soaks in. Let rest 15 minutes.
  6. Add remaining milk mixture, letting some bread cubes protrude. Sprinkle with salt and jalsberg cheese. Bake until pudding is set and top is brown and bubbling, about 1 1/2 hours. Serve hot.

“This is my go to winter brunch favorite, warm the soul and heart insures all in Keswick will enjoy.” 

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Filed Under: Uncategorized

LOOKING BACK: Holiday Decorating

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Colin Dougherty

The Holidays are busy but your arrangements don’t have to be.

Fearless Flowers was the first website dedicated to flower arranging with their streaming high-quality videos showing how to arrange flowers quickly, easily and, since the arrangements used fewer flowers, economically! The brainchild of Annie Vanderwarker, a Keswick artist and arranger, the site regularly added new videos featuring arrangements that reflect available flowers, various seasons, and current holidays. The streaming videos are organized by degree of difficulty so you can enter at the level you’re most comfortable with. Guys could even check out their own videos in ‘Even For Guys’.

When it comes to the arts, there are few areas Annie hasn’t been involved in. From making Nantucket baskets to oil painting to weaving with shredded pop cans to decorating furniture with found objects—her artistic output has been varied and adventurous. “While you can never figure out where you’re going to end up, I think that all the various artistic turns I took have really benefited my arranging, “ Annie explains. “That’s what Fearless Flowers is all about,” Annie says. “We’re not after blue ribbons or splashy arrangements, our goal is more about making you feel better about your ability to put flowers together and come up with pleasing and interesting arrangements.”

Annie and Tony hang out at 20 Gates in Cismont with their dogs, tending the gardens and staying in contact with their four children, two of which had consulted on Fearless Flowers. “It’s been a family affair which is fun,” Annie says. “It’s great to be able to bounce ideas off someone you’re close to and trust.” And the fact that their daughter is a theater director has been a huge help. “Our daughter Krissy spent a few days with me early on working on my presence and delivery, without her I never could have progressed to the point where I am now.”

Arrange some green on your table combined with deer antlers and Christmas balls for a festive holiday arrangement.  Put some water tubes on your wreath and add fresh flowers for a lovely look that can change at the drop of a hat.  Tuna cans repurposed can make for a lively contemporary look. 

Check out the videos, still active today, on YouTube, under Fearless Flowers – with nearly 7k followers!

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Filed Under: Uncategorized

WHAT’S COOKING: 3 Cheese Roasted Tomato Crostini

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Chef Jon Eddowes – The Everyday Gourmet

I love cheese! So, for the races at Montpelier earlier this month, we had a theme of Mediterranean for our tailgate. Besides loving cheese, I also enjoy and use roasted tomatoes a lot in our cooking at Everyday Gourmet. I like them tossed with pasta for a quick dish, great as a topping on grilled fish and a great compliment for this three baked cheese dip. It is quick and easy. Try it, you will love it!

Ingredients:

  • 1  10-ounce log goat cheese, at room temperature
  • 4 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
  • 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • freshly ground pepper
  • 12 cherry tomatoes, cut in half (more if you like, as I like a lot)
  • 2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives
  • 2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
  • 2 cloves garlic, chopped fine (1 if you like less)
  • Kosher salt
  • Toasted baguette slices, for serving

Directions:

  1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Combine the goat cheese, cream cheese, 
  2. Parmesan and 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a food processor and season with pepper; puree until smooth.
  3. Brush 1-quart baking dish with olive oil, then spread the cheese mixture in dish, mounding it slightly higher around edges than in the middle.
  4. Bake until golden and heated through, about 15 minutes.
  5. Combine the tomatoes, chives, vinegar, garlic and remaining olive oil and 1/2 teaspoon salt in medium bowl. Toss and spoon on baking sheet lined with aluminum foil and roast at 400 degrees for about 12 minutes, spoon on top of cheese dip. 
  6. Serve with toasted baguette slices to a kitchen full of friends!

Jon Eddowes, chef and owner of Everyday Gourmet Catering and International Culinary Tours, has been serving Keswick and its’ environs since 1991 with his edible crafts. Originally from Bucks County, Pennsylvania, Jon studied at the University of Pennsylvania.  Contact Jon at [email protected].

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Filed Under: What's Cooking

ONLY IN KESWICK: The Joy of a Fake Christmas Tree

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Tony Vanderwarker

I wrote about the joy I felt last Christmas but when the event repeated itself this holiday season, I was even more ecstatic. 

Opening the door to the basement in the cottage, I remembered the rush of excitement I felt when I was a little kid coming down the stairs on Christmas morning and seeing all the wrapped presents clustered under the tree. Only this present was even more joy-producing. 

Wrapped in a plastic tarp was the fake Christmas tree we’d purchased at Home Depot last year. We’d stored it in the cellar completely assembled, replete with all its lights, thinking we’d retrieve it next Christmas. 

And there it was, a Christmas tree for the taking. No driving to the Christmas tree lot, no stomping around in the cold looking for the perfect tree (by the way, there is no such thing. In my experience, every tree I’ve ever seen has missing branches somewhere, forcing you to turn the tree so the glitch faces the corner or wall. What do you want for ninety-five bucks anyway?), then tying it to the top of the car, driving home, wedging it through the door and then dropping it into the tree stand. A tree stand, by the way, is one of the most imperfect devices ever invented, right up there with the corkscrew and bulb planter. 

The tree stand is the ultimate time sink. Expect to spend a good hour trying to get the tree straight and then struggling to turn those dastardly bolts that are supposed to grip the trunk so the tree doesn’t topple over. Of course it only comes crashing down when its loaded with ornaments, the kind of glad tidings you only get during the Christmas holidays, like the hot oil exploding when you drop the turkey in or the major present you hid so well you can’t find it. 

Annie and I turned the tree on its side took it out through the cellar door, loaded it the Gator and drove it back to the house. Five minutes had passed and we had a Christmas tree gracing our living room.  Plugged it in, tapped the floor switch and…oops! Two sections of lights blinked on but two didn’t. Was this the ghost of Christmas past coming back to haunt us? Would I have to go to Lowe’s again and buy more lights just like in the bad old days? But no, we quickly discovered that the two unlit sections had come unplugged, I guess when we stuffed it through the cellar door.  When we plugged them in, the lights came on. 

A half hour later, we had the tree loaded with the familiar ornaments we’d stored in the garage. The Mercedes hood ornament from one of our former cars, the Heineken can turned into an ornament, the lobster, the cow, etc. etc. 

Thirty-five minutes total and we had an honest to goodness lighted and fully-decorated Christmas tree (that’s if you don’t look too closely or feel the needles)!

Damn, was I pleased with myself. I had totally eradicated one of the more onerous parts of the holidays. Now all I had to do was find the spray aptly named Scentsations that gave the fake tree that real tree scent and I was in business. 

So, do I occasionally feel a touch of regret for having a fake tree with a fake scent? Have a sense of guilt for ducking out of a hallowed Christmas tradition? 

Not on your life. Not only have I saved a tree from being sawn down, I’ve saved ninety-five bucks, three trips to Lowe’s, countless hours untangling strands of light and frustrating bouts with the cursed tree stand–for as they sing, “There’s no place like home for the holidays…” I might add–especially when you’ve got a fake tree gracing it.

(First appeared in Keswick Life in December 2019)

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Filed Under: Only in Keswick

BOOKWORM: Fireside Holiday Reading

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Suzanne Nash

It’s Christmas time and normally I’d be bustling around trying to do last minute baking and shopping but thanks to the pandemic I’m actually ahead of the game this year.  That means that when they called for snow today, I could happily sit by the fire and write without the usual stress of finishing things up at the last minute.

I am thrilled to say that I have a lot of wonderful books to choose from this Holiday season and if you are too late to get them as gifts then it is a great time to stock up some books to look forward to in the new year.

The Magdalen Girls by V. S. Alexander takes place in Dublin Ireland and begins in 1962 with Teagan Tiernan being unfairly sent to the Magdalen Laundries which resides in the gated convent of the Sisters of the Holy Redemption.  The Mother Superior, Sister Anne seems to take an instant dislike to Teagan and is cruel and hard on her.  All the girls are given new names upon their arrival and trapped within the walls with little to no freedom. Teagan makes friends with two of the other girls, Nora and Lea and together they plot to escape.  But, unfortunately, once you are sent to the Magdalen Laundries you are considered soiled women and you won’t find any refuge or mercy out in the world.  If you have never heard of the Magdalen Laundries in Ireland then it really is worth looking into the histories of them, for they were very real and the basis of this novel. 

God Pretty in the Tobacco Field is one of two books by author Kim Michele Richardson that I will review this month.  It’s 1969 in Nameless Kentucky and Ruby Lyn Bishop has been living and working on her Uncle’s tobacco farm ever since she was orphaned. Her Uncle is a tough man but has provided a good home for Ruby Lyn, but she is ready for a change.  She is 16 and wants to see more of the world and explore her artistic potential.  She has a rather strange artistic talent of making fortune tellers for people and there is magical thinking within her heart that seems to imbue her work with power. She is also involved with her Uncle’s field hand, Rainey Ford, who happens to be a man of color. While her uncle is not prejudiced against Rainey, plenty of others in the community are and Ruby Lyn has to find her way through her desires to go beyond the strict boundaries that seem to hem her in.

The Sisters of Glass Ferry is the second book by Richardson and once more takes place in Kentucky.  Honeybee is the father of twin girls, Flannery and Patsy Butler.  They used to be joined at the hip but since they became teenagers they are as unalike as can be. Patsy (the Queen Bee) is prissy and prim and determined to be popular.  She isn’t interested in the moonshine business that Honeybee runs but would rather be out with her friends.  Flannery, however, learns the trade from her father and when he dies, she is determined to take over the business. The tension between the two girls comes to a head when Patsy heads off to prom and Flannery, with no date, is left to work her shift at the diner. Patsy never makes it to the prom and never comes home.  Two decades later Patsy has come back to identify the body of her sister and discover what exactly happened that night.

The Guest List will fit the bill if you are a fan of mysteries. Author Lucy Foley has written a thriller with bite.  On an island off the coast of Ireland a wedding is going to be held between a TV star and a magazine publisher and everything just has to be perfect! Unfortunately, the night of the wedding someone turns up dead.  I won’t spoil it by telling you who turns out to be the murder victim, but the alternating points of view of the narrators keeps this novel interesting. It reminded me of an Agatha Christie mystery and islands are such great backdrops for murder, so it ticked all of the boxes for me!

If you want a wonderful, funny and poignant read then Henry’s Sisters, by Cathy Lamb, is perfect. The Bommarito sisters are quite the handful. Isabelle is a photographer; Cecilia is a teacher and Janie is an author. They all have their hang-ups and two of them have tried to get far away from their toxic mother, River, but they get drawn back to the family home when she has to go in for heart surgery.  They must all rally together to take care of their brother, Henry, who is autistic as well as their grandmother who has Alzheimer’s and thinks she is Amelia Earheart. It is sad, touching and laugh aloud funny as they navigate their way through a difficult situation.  Henry is the sweetest, dearest person who manages to keep them all moving in the right direction, despite their inevitable fallouts.  I really loved this book and didn’t want it to end!

The Promise Girls is another family drama that explores relationships between sisters and their mother.  Marie Bostwick’s novel touches on the idea of what talent and genius really is.  Minerva Promise has written a book about how she had three girls, all test tube babies, from genius donors which meant her children were prodigies in their fields of art, writing and music.  At a young age she paraded the Promise girls out to the world to show them off and lived on the royalties from her book tours with them.  Until Joanie, the eldest, revolted and brought everything tumbling down. Twenty years later, where are the girls and how have they excelled in their specialties? Filmmaker Hal Seager is determined to find out what their lives are like.  He tracks them down and opens a can of worms, as the women must face their lives and decide whether they ever lived up to the promise of their names.

I hope these books will help keep you entertained over the next month or so as we face the wintery weather ahead. Stay safe and Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all!

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Filed Under: Book Worm

KESWICKIAN: Celebrated Keswick Home Builder Turns Full-Time Instrument Maker

December 28, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Colin Dougherty

Ralph Dammann built his first instrument, an electric bass guitar, in 1969. His second instrument became the bass he played professionally through most of the 1970’s. Ralph wanted an electric Bass that felt more natural to play – especially important for someone trained on a traditional double bass – so he designed and built his basses to hang upright and allow for greater (and easier) reach up and down the neck and, thus, better playability.

Ralph set up Dammann Custom Basses in 1997 to produce his custom ‘Vertical Bass’ in small volume. That business still exists with Ralph continuing to fine-tune the shape, balance and electronics for superior bass playing.

During the 80’s Ralph started playing the Octave Mandolin. Soon after he ordered a Mandocello, a standard four-course model, and promptly fell in love with it.

Ray Varona is a trained luthier who came to work in Ralph’s shop in 2007. Ray was looking for somewhere to hone his instrument making skills, and Ralph’s fully equipped shop was the perfect place. Both Ray and Ralph are accomplished musicians and both share a love of fine woods and expert craftsmanship.

Initially, Ray worked making Ralph’s custom basses but also spent time designing and making a range of acoustic instruments in the shop – everything from guitars to violins. Ralph’s interest in the mandolin and mandocello continued to grow and he asked Ray to build a five course mandocello. Ray, being Ray, built several and the acoustic version was a revelation to Ralph. And so was born the Dammann five-course Mandocello. Ray makes these instruments to sound full and balanced. His skill at balancing all the variables at play in the design of the acoustic stringed instrument is evident when the player picks one up.

The advantage – Dammann’s Total Control neck is a response to one of the biggest challenges that string musicians face: finding and maintaining an ideal string height for his or her instrument. Between environmental factors and varying personal preferences, it can be difficult to find an instrument that achieves optimal string height for tone and playability.

Our neck joint can be easily set to optimal action on the fly. This adjustment changes the height of the strings off the fingerboard particularly as one goes to positions up the neck. You can go from a slide setup to ultra-low shredding with just a few turns of the bolt and brief re-tuning. This also eliminates the concerns of the dreaded neck reset and helps ensure enough adjustability for healthy playing for years to come. Seasonal action adjustments are a matter of a quarter of half turn. Ray Varona worked on this mechanism (which we now have under patent application ) for five years. It sounds simple but took a lot of experimentation to get it right!

Our adjustable neck joint not only enables pinpoint control over playability but it ensures long-term playability over the course of the instrument’s lifetime. Instruments built lightly enough to be lively and responsive are also prone to changes in shape over time given the years of seasonal changes and string tension. At best, the saddle needs to gradually be shaved down and in most cases a neck reset is needed to bring the neck back in line. With user-control over neck angle, this becomes a moot point since the neck angle is adjusted with a simple turn of a wrench and the saddle can remain constant regardless of action so that the saddle can be set at it’s optimum height purely for tonal purposes instead of at a height dictated by playability needs.

Dammann Instruments can be made to accommodate whatever combination of instrument woods you like, tweaking the sound in one direction or another but the player can rely on the finished instrument to sing like no other stringed instrument he has ever heard.

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KESWICKIAN: Kathleen Buchanan ‘Winkie’ Motley

December 5, 2020 By Keswick Life

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January 27, 1945 – October 27, 2020

Written by Lenny Shapiro and Vicky Moon

Winkie Motley, founder of Keswick Life, with her grandson Collins Camp Allen in Wellington, Florida

She was known by one and all simply as Winkie, a multi-talented woman of great substance and enviable style equally at ease at a horse show, a racetrack or a printing plant, where the newspaper she founded and turned into a flourishing must-read publication came off the presses every month for the last fifteen years.

Kathleen Buchanan (Winkie) Motley died on Tuesday, Oct. 27 in Wellington, Florida. She was a long-time resident of Keswick Virginia, in the lush horse country outside of Charlottesville. She cherished and later chronicled that area for her faithful readers of Keswick Life. She was 75.

Mrs. Motley and her late husband, Hugh, lived for many years at Highground Farm in Keswick where she also adored entertaining friends and neighbors on the screen porch overlooking the Blue Ridge mountains to the southwest, with horses romping in nearby fields adding to the magnificent view.

She became enamored with horses growing up in Valley Forge, Pa., where she learned to ride and compete in a number of horse shows. She was best known on the horse show circuit with her graceful moving bay horse No Duplicate, winning many blue ribbons along the way.

Over the years, she worked with the Keswick Hunt Club along with her husband, who served as Master of Foxhounds. They also raised horses on the farm, and Mrs. Motley spent many years as the manager of the annual Keswick Horse Show each May, which benefited a number of local charities. She also volunteered on benefits for the Montpelier Steeplechase races and the Thoroughbred Retirement Foundation.

Mrs. Motley was born in Wayne, Pa., on Jan. 27, 1945, the daughter of Kathleen Kern Buchanan and William Cooper Buchanan. At birth she had one eye briefly closed as if winking and from that day on, she was known as “Winkie.”

Raised at Hollow Hill Farm in Valley Forge, she grew up riding all through her childhood with her two sisters. She graduated from Shipley High School in Bryn Mawr, Pa., and Bennett College in Millbrook, N.Y. Early on, she worked for Barbara Camp at Glenmore Farm in Shadwell, Va., helping with the Glenmore ponies and teaching Bunny Camp, Barbara’s daughter, to ride.

She met Hugh Motley at Glenmore, where he was working for Clay Camp, a thoroughbred sales agent in the racehorse business. At the same time, Mrs. Motley was employed by Mrs. Camp.  They were married May 22, 1976 in Wayne, Pa. Mr. Motley predeceased her in January, 2016.

The Motleys eventually branched out on their own and were active in the horse racing community, selling racehorses raised on their Keswick farm and traveling around the country to numerous racetracks and horse auctions, including the prestigious sales at Keeneland, Kentucky and Saratoga Springs, N.Y.

Mrs. Motley joined her husband in representing Taylor, Harris Insurance Services as an equine insurance specialist. And in 2005, she founded and was the owner/editor of a popular monthly newspaper, Keswick Life.

According to the paper’s masthead, “every month, we bring you lifestyles in Keswick and its environs, from the scoop of a party and horsey happenings to practical advice on making the most of your garden, preserving land and updates from the surroundings!”

She had an eye and passion for the nuances of typeface and design, which spilled over into her publication. She later utilized this talent while helping her daughter, Sheila, with wedding invitations, menu layout and place cards for her event business. It was always extremely attractive and appropriate.

As a long-time member of the Keswick Hunt Club, Mrs. Motley helped with the renovation of its kennels and recently was immersed in the building of a new custom barn for the hunt. She helped raise funds and provided many of the finishing touches herself.

Mrs. Motley also was what Sheila described as “a true horse show mom, giving me a childhood filled with weekends traveling to horse shows with ponies, competing and spending time together.”

In recent years, Mrs. Motley also spent the winter season in Wellington. She helped her daughter and son-in-law, Mathew, with their popular Wellington business, The Clubhouse Restaurant at Palm Beach Polo and Sheila’s thriving event-planning business, Sheila Camp Motley Event Design.

During the work week, Mrs. Motley wore her signature pared down uniform of choice—perfectly pressed blue jeans—“topped” off with an endless choice of white shirts that stretched across an immaculately organized closet. For evenings and weekends, her wardrobe choices were unassuming and elegant solid colors and always accessorized by an opera length of pearls held together with a family bar pin of diamonds.

Mrs. Motley is survived by her daughter, Sheila Camp Motley, and her husband, Mathew William Allen; a grandson, Collins Camp Allen; a sister, Deborah Ann Buchanan, and two nieces and a nephew. She adored spending considerable quality time with her beloved grandson Collins, often taking him for golf lessons.

A celebration of Mrs. Motley’s life will be held at Highground Farm in the spring. Donations in her name can be made to Grayson-Jockey Club Research Foundation, which funds veterinary research projects specifically for the benefit of all horses (821 Corporate Drive, Lexington, KY 40503) and the Little Keswick School, P.O. Box 24, Keswick, VA 22947.

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ONLY IN KESWICK: Working With Winkie

December 5, 2020 By Keswick Life

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By Tony Vanderwarker

For a writer, the two biggest fears are the sight of a blank page and the red pencil of an editor hovering over your manuscript. The blank page stares up at you as if it’s saying, “Go ahead, just try writing something, I dare you.” And the longer you stare at it, the more it has to say, “Go ahead, try something, try anything–but you know it’ll be terrible. See, you can’t even start, can you? Maybe you’ve run out of ideas, the cupboards bare. That’s why you’re just sitting there staring at me. So do what you always do, get up from your machine and go into the kitchen and get a cookie or something.”

This conversation can go on for three minutes, sometimes four until you purge the urge to cut and run and summon up the courage to strike one key and then another. When you have completed a paragraph, a great sense of relief washes over you. “See, I can write,” you say. So you’ve conquered the blank page.

The red pencil’s another story. When an editor picks it up, it’s like he’s starting on a hunting expedition and he or she is not going to stop until they find their quarry. The small game is typos and the writer winces at every one the red pencil finds. Then grammar is the target, next is awkward phrasing and pretty soon the manuscript gets shot full of red marks.

It’s debilitating to a writer, like shooting airballs is to a basketball player. I suspect very editor secretly relishes slashing a manuscript to bits.

But not Winkie. She never took a red pencil to even one of my articles for Keswick Life. Never gave me an ounce of criticism or blackballed an article. Instead she’d send a brief email saying, “Thank you, it’s great!” Or, “Love it, thank you so much!” 

So writing for her was always a pleasure. I never had the dread of a blank page or the sight of a red mark. I could write whatever I wanted knowing she’d appreciate it and she’d print it. I treasured the experience of writing for her. For a writer, it was a once in a lifetime experience.

Occasionally, she’d request a writeup of a Keswick event, often with a tight deadline. And when I dallied and she faced getting it off to the printer, I’d get a nice nudge from Winkie, never threatening, never nasty. “Don’t forget the article about the horse show,” she’d remind me, “I’ll need it pretty soon.”

She was endlessly gracious to me and to the community she loved so much. And that showed in the character of her newspaper. It was interesting, appreciative, good-natured and full of life, just like the community it served. And to quote a famous Barkleyism, “There are no secrets in Keswick,” life in Keswick was riddled with gossip but nothing snide or untoward toward anyone ever appeared in Winkie’s pages. That was Winkie. 

And those of us who are left to carry on without her will do our best to maintain the generosity of spirit that Winkie championed and brought to life in the pages of her paper. 

Thank you, Winkie, thank you.

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