It snowed a good six inches last night. Then the sun came out. Today was a state employees holiday (the Monday after a Saturday holiday), so I was not working. We decided to take the boys sledding. Sarah said "Lets go to the golf course in Riverside near the Dunkin Donuts" (a fifteen minute drive). I said "Lets go to Moses Brown - that's where everyone around here goes sledding" (a one minute drive).

We went to Moses Brown. The slopes were jammed. "The kids are too big here." said Sarah. "The hill is too steep." said Skipper. I said "Lets try the baby park." We drove to the baby park. There was no one there but the little hill looked fine. "NO NO NO" said Hank.

We drove to Riverside. The drive took 20 minutes while I fumed about having to leave the neighborhood for no reason. Hank fell asleep in the car. The parking lot by the hill was mobbed. We squeezed into a spot and woke up Hank.

We got the sleds out. Half asleep Hank wanted no part of it. The wind was blowing 30 knots. The wind chill was below zero. Skipper ran ahead with his red plastic sled, hopped on, and zoomed down the hill like he'd been sledding all his life. In fact, it was the first time he had ever given it a try. Sarah and I were amazed. I took Hank back to the warmth of the car where we watched Skipper go up and down and up and down.

We had a half dozen Dunkin Donuts on the way back.

Sunday morning we skipped church and went to the zoo. It was sunny and about 40 degrees. There were 20 or 30 cars in the parking lot. On a hot summer day, there are hundreds and the sheltered zoo is very uncomfortable. Sunday was perfect. We had hoped to spend some time watching the polar bear do some swimming, but he has come down with a skin (fur) condition and is under treatment by the vet.

We first went to the penguin compound. No penguins! But there was a woman examining a thermometer in the penguin pond. "Your in luck." she said. "The water is now warm enough for them to come out." "Warm enough for a penguin!?" I said. "Oh yes, the water has to be at least 35 degrees for this breed of penguin." So, we sat in the penguin amphitheater and waited. About five minutes later we heard the bang of a door and waddling down the path to the pond came five penguins who immediately dived in and went for their morning swim.

We then watched the monkeys swing from tree to tree, ate overpriced hot dogs in the cafeteria, and spent more than half an hour in the elephant and giraffe house. A good time was had by all. Hank made monkey sounds all the way home in the back seat of the car.

I'm going to start my visual recollections series by writing about my cookbooks. I walked into the kitchen the other day and saw my cookbooks all lined up just as they've been for 20 years at three different dwellings. Not to say that the selection hasn't changed, because it has, but the core remains. The core is not very interesting. The Joy of Cooking and Fanny Farmer. But these two indispensable books tell you how long to cook a turkey and what temperature to use on a roast beef; things I would never remember. Joy of Cooking also has the best recipe I know for Coq Au Vin and Fanny Farmer has a good one for Swedish Meatballs which, with the addition of a few secret ingredients, becomes the much superior and refined Norwegian Meatballs.

My other critical cookbooks are Craig Claiborne's Cooking with Herbs and Spices which has also been with me for 20 years. My favorites in here are Chili con Carne and Pork Chops with Capers. Then I have The Eating Well Rush Hour Cookbook and it's superior recipe for Caribbean Rice and Beans (black), a mildewed copy of Michael Greenwald's Cruising Chef Cookbook, from my sailing days, which includes a great version of Red Beans and Rice. More recent additions are the Silver Palate Cookbook, which I rarely use, but which everyone says you have to have, and my new favorite, Mark Bittman's The Minimalist Cooks at Home. With young children around, this has become my indispensable bible. We like Chicken Cutlets Meuniere, Chicken Curry in a Hurry and Chicken with Rice (The Ultimate in Basics). There are many more in this small volume I would like to try, but the fear of the boys' reaction to a new meal always gives me pause.

Also sitting on my cookbook shelf, or on the windowsill over the kitchen sink, is my tin recipe box filled with recipes clipped from magazines or passed on by friends and family. As I look through the box I note Chicken Scampi, clipped from Cruising World Magazine in 1986, Sicilian Little Necks and Mussels, clipped from Rhode Island Magazine, my late Aunt FL's Weber family recipe for Yorkshire Pudding, and one of favorites, Pat's (Mues) Beef Stew which has been mothballed until the boys are a little older and I have more time. I need to ask Pat whether this could be converted to a crockpot recipe. Pat?

Today was chili night. Every night would be chili night if the boys had their way. I hear from my friends with young families that this is unusual. I chop the onions and garlic. The boys, taking turns, open the diced tomatoes, tomato paste, and red kidney bean cans. I brown the ground beef, garlic, and onions then pour in the tomatoes, chili powder (just a couple of teaspoons) and basil flakes. On another burner I cook some rice. When everything is ready, the chili, rice, and grated cheddar cheese must be served on separate plates and bowls. The chili in a big bowl, the rice on a plate, and the cheese in a little bowl. Then begins a five minute operation of mixing the three together. Usually the cheese is put down on top of the chili. When the cheese is melted, the rice is then carefully patted down on top of the chili. The layer of rice must be very flat. Amazingly, they then eat, usually cleaning their bowls.

Not too many postings recently. I've been busy; no presidential politics to talk about other than the fact that the President's own cabinet clearly doesn't like him any more than I do; and the boys haven't been saying funny things recently.

I'm thinking of doing a series on images from the past. By images I mean visual recollections of certain places or occasions that even after many years are etched in my memory. This will be a top ten presentation.

I've been thinking about it for a while and from time to time while driving the car, or taking a walk, or riding in the elevator, one of these images comes to mind. The problem is that as I sit here now I only remember a couple of them. Probably half of them will be sailing images and at least one will duplicate one of my earlier log reports. The series will start soon.