Frank's Birthday Pumpkin Pie

Yesterday was Frank's 72nd birthday. I asked him if he wanted a cake or pumpkin pie to celebrate. He chose his favorite, pumpkin pie, and he loves my recipe for it. I use Libby's canned pumpkin but alter the recipe on the back by tripling the cinnamon, doubling the ginger, and substituting 2 tsp of nutmeg for ½ tsp of cloves. I have made it so many times I can almost make it in my sleep.

 

In this time of pandemic, my grocery shopping has gone exclusively online with curbside pickup. That method is pretty good. I'd probably rate it about an A- or B+. But occasionally I do not get exactly what I requested. The grocery bag contained two cans of pumpkin pie mix instead of the 100% pumpkin only. I could not make this pie on auto pilot. I would have to think... bummer!

 

At first, I considered trying to adapt the recipe to my spice combination. I assumed that the mix already contained the spices that the recipe on the 100% pumpkin label specified to add. I reasoned that to make my recipe, I just need to reduce the spices I normally put in by that amount. Except, I could not take out the cloves. And maybe, just maybe, my assumption about those spice ratios in the mix was incorrect. Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided to give the can for the mix a try unadulterated, and follow the label directions. Then, when it called for 2 eggs instead of my customary 4 eggs, I was alerted to the fact that even though the can was the same size, the mix only made one pie while the 100% pumpkin made two pies. Hmmm. Also, as well as adding no spices, the recipe did not call for any sugar, either. Strange, but I plunged ahead, beat only two eggs, and added my usual two cans of evaporated milk. I preheated the oven to 425°F and  meanwhile  prepared my pie shell. I noticed that when I fluted the crust, the edge had not come up as high above the rim of the pie plate as I was used to. Hmmm. Maybe Pillsbury had made the crust smaller. After all, those cans of evaporated milk that used to be 13 oz. were now 12 oz. I made a mental note to stretch the crust thinner on the next pie so the fluted edge would be taller. 

After mixing up the batter, I began to pour it into the prepared crust. The level kept rising higher and higher, awfully close to the tippy-top of the crust edge. I realized transferring it into the oven would be nigh impossible without sloshing it over and making a mess. I got out a custard cup and decide to move some batter into the cup to lower the level in the pie With a big diameter pie and small diameter cup I realized I would not lower the level by much but I dutifully used several scoops of a ¼ cup to ladle out some of the volume. Then I carefully transferred the pie plate and the custard cup into the oven and set the timer for 15 minutes. After 15 minutes I lowered the heat to 350°F and set the timer for an additional 50 minutes. When the timer went off again, I opened the oven door and checked. The pie jiggled and undulated – a lot – so much so that the pie surface reminded me of the motion of a jelly fish's fragile membrane. No need to poke a knife in there to check if it would come out clean. Clearly this pie needed more time.

Then, as I was closing the oven door, I noticed that there was bubbling a bit in from the perimeter, and periodically little squirts of liquid shot up. When you walk along the wet sand of a beach, where there are clams, you can detect their location by the tiny stream of liquid spouting into the air. That is how this pie was behaving. It was alive like there were little creatures lurking beneath the surface.

I set the timer for an additional 10 minutes; after checking again, I set it for another 10 minutes. After those cumulative 20 minutes, I realized that if I cooked it any longer, the crust would be charcoal. When I inserted a knife in the custard cup contents and it came out clean, I removed the pie and custard cup. I figured if we had to eat it with a spoon, so be it. Frank and I taste-tested the contents of the custard cup and it was perfectly acceptable, smooth, definitely pumpkin flavored. It had the consistency of crème brûlée but it was deep orange color. Granted, it was so hot we had to blow on it, but it tasted good enough we devoured it all. The pie would wait until after dinner. It was not "a thing of beauty" nor "a joy forever" (from Endymion by John Keats), but it would suffice to stick a candle in – unless the candle toppled over.

I wondered what had gone wrong. Then it hit me. I had used two cans of evaporated milk instead of one. (I said I could almost make this pie in my sleep. Almost is the operative word. I must have been asleep.) It gets worse. I dug the can out of the trash to reread the label. It was supposed to be one 5 oz can. This pie could not hold a candle to my other pumpkin pies. But could it hold a candle at all? We used a broad based train candle and it did stay upright. When I served the pie, I set out both forks and spoons, not sure which utensils we would need. Frank scratched his head, trying to decide.

It took several matches to light the candle, but only one breath to blow it out. Happy Birthday, Frank!

The trend today is to take selfies of yourself at a restaurant or a photo of the gourmet-looking dish you are about to eat. I do not think this pie would make the Instagram cut for visual appeal. But it tasted fine and we did eat it with a fork after all. I have one more can of the pumpkin mix. This time I am going to make it with the 5 oz of evaporated milk it calls for instead of the 24 oz I used.

I have blogged about a previous pumpkin pie episode from a few months ago, April 2020, shortly after our pandemic lock down in March. You can laugh at that one too, in my post for 4/4/20. The fallout from this pandemic keeps on comin', eroding my cooking skills. In the mood for some alliteration? How about... Ponder: A Piece of Pandemic Pumpkin Pie? Let's hope I improve before Thanksgiving.

Ponder: Pumpkin Pie, Anyone?

Last night I decided to make pumpkins pies. I make two at a time using Libby's pumpkin pie and Pillsbury pre-made pie crusts in a roll from the refrigerator section. The pie crusts were creeping up on their expiration date. I use the recipe on the can, tripling the cinnamon, doubling the ginger, and substituting 2 tsp nutmeg for ½ tsp cloves

Alright I admit it; the two pie crusts were just past their best buy date, but that was not my main problem. The recipe called for 1½  cups sugar. I measured out the dregs of my Tupperware sugar canister and found I had only 1 cup. I searched back into far reaches of my pantry and found I did not have a reserve bag in waiting. Drats! What should I do?

I did not want to go to my neighbor and violate that social distance of 6 ft to borrow ½ cup of sugar. I rejected using powdered sugar guessing that the consistency would make mush when added to the pumpkin/egg mixture. Maybe brown sugar? I was not sure what the conversion amount would be and it was probably just in one hard lumpy block anyway. Speaking of lumps I then spied my containers of sugar cubes. More popular for tea during our camping days, I still add them to my spaghetti sauce and other similar sauces. Hmmm. Could I uncompress these back to their granulated sugar form? It was worth a try so I got out my small food-processor/nut-chopper and gave it a whirl. Initially I tried counting how many cubes I would need. Each cube is 1 tsp, 3 tsps  = 1 Tbsp, 8 Tbsp = ½ cup; therefore I would need 24 cubes. The ground quantity fell short of ½ cup, so I eventually just dumped in one container's worth and repeated press pulse on the chopper. I now had enough granulated sugar and it worked out fine. Well maybe not literally fine but granulated enough to work for the pies batter.

This is the mini-processor I used that had not been out of the cupboard for years.

I mixed up the pumpkin pie batter and poured it into the two shells I had rolled out and prepared. The bump in the pie-baking road arising from the lack of sugar had been navigated successfully, but that was not my only problem. I preheated the oven to 425° and put in the two pies, staggered and on separate racks as I normally do, and set the timer for 15 minutes. My norm is that after 15 minutes, I lower the temperature to 350° and let the pies bake for an additional 45 minutes. Then I shut off the oven, crack the door open 3"- 4" and let the pies come to room temperature slowly as the oven cools itself down. Last night when my timer went off I shut it off and reset it for the additional 45 minutes. Then I never lowered the oven temperature! I was clueless that I had omitted this critical step due to distraction or senility or an subconscious internal urge to sabotage my own culinary efforts. My first realization of my gaff was when I opened the oven door and glimpsed the black charred crust and scattered dime-size charcoal dots on the upper pie, and the chocolate-colored crust on the lower pie. The central filling sections were not quite as golden in color more of a burnt orange but they looked edible.

I whisked the pies out of the oven, emptied two shelves in the freezer, and plunked the pies in there for 10 minutes or so to hopefully stop the cooking process. I was lucky that I have gradually been using up the frozen food while sheltering in place, and so there was room for the pie rescue operation. Note that part of one pie has been eaten – yes, eaten and not thrown away – it was quite edible and even tasty once drenched with whipped cream. We had eaten the charcoal spotted portions of darker pie as a taste test of the worst case scenario. The photos for this blog have been re-staged since at the time of the fiasco I was otherwise occupied. 

After cool enough to handle I took each pie to the kitchen sink. I broke off the fluted part of the crust, with fork, with knife, and with bare hands, sometimes by long arcs or otherwise by black, flaked chips. Of course, my hands had been washed beforehand with soap and water for 20 seconds to the tune of Happy Birthday sung twice. I had plenty of time to do this while the pies were chilling in the freezer. My kitchen sink looked like the aftermath of trying to scrape off an over-toasted slice of bread with a kitchen knife. Plus I had to wash the food processor. Use your imagination for those photos.

Now I noticed I have bananas on my counter more ripe than I prefer to eat them. I know! I will make banana bread! But not until I get more sugar. Until then, I have plenty of room in the freezer to store them if they get too, too brown.

SoCal Nursing Visit

A couple weeks before Christmas I flew down to help out my son Dan and his family while Dan had some elective sinus surgery. I flew down Tuesday December 11th, the day before surgery and returned Sunday December 16th. With me there, his wife Carrie did not need to take time off from work to do the out-patient to-and-from transport for the three+ hour surgery and I could do some cooking, medication pickups, and general motherly type nursing duties. Carrie could focus caring for the three kids.

Usually I can find something interesting to amuse myself at an airport. On my flight down, his unique method of creating an "X" indicating this walkway was out of commission in the Oakland airport, caught my eye as somewhat clever.

Wednesday, waiting to go in for his surgery, Dan allowed me to take a picture of him in his Jolly Green Giant garb. I told him it was appropriate for a Christmas elf. His grin was not as big after coming out of the anesthesia but he rallied before too long. Dan rested/slept a fair amount and was on the path to mending within a couple days. Thursday at his home, we watched a movie together, Crazy Rich Asians (2018) which I enjoyed. I had seen it once before with Frank and had deemed it worth a repeat viewing. Dan liked it, also.

As a bonus while I was there, I got to see my three grandchildren and attend Vivian's short preschool Christmas concert.

Lillian posed for me in her adorable sheep pajamas, sporting a very stylish but totally unnecessary bandaid on her cheek.

I placed William in his bouncer seat, which he can barely fit in now, but never-the-less he can give it a very jouncy and exuberant workout.

I have two cute stories to relate. On Saturday morning when Carrie and the kids were not so rushed to get out the door I made pancakes. I called Frank and he texted me the recipe from my cookbook at home. He then suggested I put it in my blog so I would always have it wherever I was. I did. This is it. Ignore the handwritten numbers along the left margin. They are point values from an older Weight Watchers' system. Oh, and I also reduce the baking powder, omit the salt entirely, and concoct my own buttermilk from regular milk and lemon juice.

I mixed it up as I usually do but the batter seemed very runny, more like thin crepe batter and not like thick pancake batter. But I cooked up the first pan's worth and, though the results were pretty flat and came out pretty crumpled up, they tasted ok and the kids loved them. I added more flour beyond what the recipe called for from Carrie's clear acrylic canister on the counter top. The white powder was a little more fine than I was used to but it could have been cake flour. It wasn't. I had used powdered sugar. No wonder the kids like them. They were sweeeeet. No syrup was needed, that's for sure! Carrie figured out my goof and showed me the cabinet space where the flour really was. She was low on eggs so I could not scrap the batter and start again. I just kept adding flour to my thin creamy creation and forged ahead. They were truly like crepes and even eight month old William eagerly gobbled up the nibbles Carrie fed him.

Then Saturday afternoon, right around nap time Lillian (2½) came clumping into the family room wearing pink princess shoes. Vivian (4½) informed her in no uncertain terms that those those were her princess  shoes and Lillian had to take them off and give them back right then and there. Lillian's shoes were the blue ones. Of course Lillian did not obey since she claimed the pink ones matched what she was wearing better. Sibling bickering ensued. 

I intervened. "You know girls, Grandma brought presents when she came, right?" They both nodded. "Well that means I have lots of room in my suitcase and can pack anything you fight over in it to take home with me when I go. You will not be able get it back until you visit me or I visit you again. And I do not know when that will be." They both got very somber. "Lillian please give me those pink shoes you are wearing." She did. I held them up and began to laugh. "Look at this girls. They are two different shoes and in two different sizes. This is what you were fighting over?" They both began to grin sheepishly and the battle was defused.

I thought that was the end of it. Then Sunday morning, after I had packed and was waiting to leave for my late afternoon flight, little Lillian came up to me, hugged my thigh and murmured, "Grandma, did you pack our princess shoes in your suitcase?" I was surprised she remembered, kind of glad my ploy had been so effective, but at the same time I felt about two inches tall that I had caused her such anguish. A Grinch I was not, but it reminded me of that scene with Cindy Lou Who – who was no more that two – when she asked. "Santy Claus, why? Why are you taking our Christmas tree? WHY?"

"No, Sweetie. You and Vivian stopped fighting so all your toys are still here. Grandma did not take anything." I repeat. A Grinch I am not!

Dancers' Dinner at Halloween

The mood was set for a Halloween themed dinner with some couples we've known from dancing. I'd dug an old canvas print I knew I had out of the attic and set it up next to a plaid pumpkin. Just that morning at a HomeGoods nearby store, I'd bought some appetizer plates because they'd reminded me of that canvas. I could not believe how well they went together. I'd purchased that owl and big orange moon image many, many years ago at a T. J. Maxx.

For each table place setting decoration I'd drilled two holes in a mini-pumpkin using a wine corkscrew. I was surprised to find out that even at this small size, pumpkins are hollow in the center.  I could dribble water in one hole, while air exiting the second hole and then insert two yellow roses. I added a bright green bow and a cardboard BOO sign and voila, instant atmosphere and cuteness.



Here is the place setting complete with napkin and gold ring. I talked about my planning for this table arrangement in my DianeLoves2Quilt blog post for 10/28/15.

 I liked the simplicity of the table layout but enjoyed the lushness of its colors.

In the nook area off the kitchen I had set up snacks for if we had the energy to play some games after dinner . The witch hats in the background are made from cookies and Hershey kisses and the owls in the foreground are from Oreo cookies and Reese's pieces eyes and beaks on top of chocolate mini-muffins.



Here are those owls closeup. How does it feel to have all those eyes peering directly at you?



The first to arrive were our friends Carl and Sachi, dressed as Hans Solo and Princess Leia. It was not intended to be a costume party but what fun it was to get in the spirit.

Our friends John and Marita called on their way saying they were delayed. That night was to be the Zombie Pub Crawl in downtown Livermore. Traffic was backed up from the throngs driving to attend. Folks dressed as Zombies gather as a flash dance mob in front of the Bankhead Theater and then pub hop all dressed in zombie clothes and makeup. This is a photo from 2014 but the event grows every year, much like the zombie nation population. Livermore is a happening place! Just think of all those scientists' brains that are available to feed on.



John and Marita's delayed arrival did not upset my precisely planned menu timetable. That got thrown to the four winds when I discovered that the large burner on my stove that I was using to heat water up to boiling to steam the vegetables, had stopped working. A watched pot may never boil but an unwatched, flaky burner, that only functions intermittently, has the same issue. At one point I turned on all the burners on the stove to high and when I learned which one was working I used that one. Not a very efficient method, I know. That was OK, though. The pork loin roasting in the oven had reached an internal temperature of 145°F, as was the goal, but the meat still looked too pink to be appetizing. After slicing, back in it went. Oh well. As they say... the best laid plans...

The salad was color coded to the theme and in a crescent moon shaped dish. I'd prepared it before the timetable had run amuck. From top to bottom the ingredients on a bed of romaine lettuce were yellow corn and yellow bell peppers, orange mandarin segments, green Granny smith apples, and blackberries at the base. A centrally placed hard boiled egg section added a stark white and bright yellow accent. The egg reminded me of Mike Wazowski, the one eyed monster from the Pixar movie Monsters, Inc.

My favorite part of a dinner party is the decorating and socializing so we just rolled with the punches on the food portion of it. The cooking may not have been executed elegantly, but everything on the menu was edible. The ginger sesame marinade on the pork loin was tasty and folks like the dried fruit I'd mixed in to jazz up the rice.

Everybody loved the dessert. It was Crème Brûlée per a recipe by Betty Crocker. I'd made a trial run of the recipe a couple days before. Frank and I had learned the longest part of the operation was caramelizing the sugar on top just before serving. We decided that this would be a group activity instead me having them all ready to serve. It would be like the showmanship of the waiter who flambés the rum when preparing the cherries jubilee at the table but in this case, everyone could do his own.

Well, a waiter typically has a flame to work with, not a flickering, sputtering, irregular, smattering of sparks. Caramelizing that layer of sugar provided quite a bit of entertainment when we gathered to create that characteristic hard, crunchy top. I had a tiny "gourmet chef culinary torch" from Bed Bath & Beyond. Very small ceramic ramekins come with the torch and they are a joke. They hold two, maybe three, mouthfuls of the custard. I used bigger dishes and made a double batch. The torch was kind of a joke, too. It kept going out. We were probably at it a good twenty, maybe even close to thirty, minutes repeatedly refilling that bitty torch with butane. Fortunately I had thought ahead and bought refills. The guys were really hankering to use a large propane torch like you would for soldering pipes. We muddled through with the tiny butane torch because I was unwilling to "flavor" the crème brûlée with the smell of propane.

Afterwards, when there were just a few bites left, John tried an experiment with the propane. I could almost hear caveman grunts like those of Tim Allen as Tim "the Tool man" Taylor from the classic TV show Home Improvement, as he relished the use of power to get a task done. I did not smell any propane as I had feared, but the room positively stunk from the sulphur of the wood matches John had used to light the torch! We had to throw open the windows and air it out.

For the information of the uninitiated, the television series Home Improvement, with its own comedy of handyman errors, was one of my favorites. It aired from September 17, 1991 to May 25, 1999. Per the Wikipedia article, "In the 1990s, it was one of the most watched sitcoms in the American market, winning many awards. The series launched Tim Allen's acting career."

After dessert the genders separated, spontaneously and naturally, not really planned. I have no idea what the men discussed but we women just talked about family and then Marita and Sachi requested I conduct an unprepared and unscheduled tour of my dishes. I have a lot. I admit it. They said I must because, when they have dinner here, I use a different set almost each time. Looking in the far reaches of high-up cabinets, in the bases and upper portions of hutches, and even in the depth of some drawers was fun as well as a reminder to me of stuff I should use or "lose" to goodwill. Except that I like it all! We played a couple rounds of the card game Swish and then called it a night. It had been a fun evening. I enjoy planning and setting a formal table but that is certainly where the formality ends with friends.

SoCal Weekdays

Last week Frank and I visited Dan, Carrie and Vivian in Southern California, Wednesday night, September 30th through Monday morning, October 5th. Thursday and Friday, while Dan and Carrie were at work and Vivian at daycare, I was to work on sewing barstool covers for them. I had brought along my new featherweight sewing machine as a carry on item in order to do so. I'd also offer to cook dinner on the days they worked. We would have visiting time in the evening and more over the weekend when they were off from work and at home.

Wednesday
The original plan was for us to arrive early afternoon, collect our luggage and drive out to visit Dan's new work site.  Three of our four pieces of checked luggage merrily careened down the luggage ramp and out onto the carousel but the fourth piece was not so forthcoming. It was a box that contained the 24" diameter wooden top to a child's two-chair and table set we had bought for Vivian. We waited in hopes it would come on the next flight but no luck. We left the airport with a delayed baggage incident report in hand and the verbal assurance it would be delivered to us once it was located. Conjecture was that it had been held up in security since it was a box, not a piece of luggage and therefore subject to more stringent inspection. Other theories included that is had not been off-loaded from our flight and had been flown off to another destination. We would need to wait until it could be placed on a return flight from where-ever.

With our delayed departure from the airport we lost our window of opportunity to visit Dan at work and so drove directly to see Vivian at her swim lesson. She loves the water and will duck her head under the surface quite willingly. I was also pleased to see that one of the safety skills being taught is how to climb out.

After swim lessons we went to dinner at Panera Bread and eventually home to Dan and Carrie's place where we got to plant our butts on a soft couch, put up our feet,  relax, and breathe a sigh of relief/exhaustion. We unfolded the hide-a-bed to crash for the night when my cell phone rang about 10:00 pm. An upbeat voice asked how would we like an 11:00 o'clock delivery of our lost item.  I said great, thinking everyone would be at work or daycare and Frank and I could hang out and wait around for it the next morning. Partway through the phone call I thought to ask if that 11:00 o'clock was AM or PM? PM was the prompt response. I thought "better get it while they still know where it is" and so agreed to the late night delivery. They confirmed the address and we were told the driver would call if he had trouble finding it.

Dan and Carrie's house is in a new development, the layout of which is a bit unique. The homes share a common courtyard and each home's garage access is from that area. The courtyard has no name and neither does the access to the courtyard from the street. See the following photos. Frank was concerned the driver would be unable to locate the unlabeled access at night. He changed back into his clothes from his pajamas, took a folding chair, a book, and a flashlight and went to sit out at the curb to wait for the driver.

Frank came back in at 11:30 when the driver had called to say he was still at the airport, was planning his delivery route, and could not locate where we were. After some explaining, it was agreed the driver would call when close and Frank would be out there to flag him down. Frank got back into bed with his street clothes on, holding my cell phone. After a repeat of the folding chair, flashlight, book, curbside routine, Frank successfully brought in the box containing 24" diameter table top around 1:30 am. He stashed the box along the hallway wall and flopped back into bed – again. I was not his favorite person that night, having purchased this gift for our granddaughter. The chairs had disassembled sufficiently and the table legs had unscrewed form the top such that all the other parts went into a suitcase.

Thursday
We completed the table assembly first thing Thursday morning. Vivian noticed it as soon as she came downstairs and sat at it. I think it is sooo cute and perfect for her! And I got it for a bargain at Home Goods. In my defense, Vivian really, really liked it and started using it right away.

Otherwise, Thursday got off to a slow start. The interrupted slumber due to the delivery of the package from the airline, plus luggage carrying, plus sleeping funny gave me a somewhat painful kink in my neck and shoulder area. When life gives you lemons make lemonade. So instead of sewing, Frank and I set off to find a Joann's fabric store to acquire more yardage of the barstool fabric I needed. A fabric store cures just about any ailment for me. I delayed the sewing of the covers, but the progress I did make on them can be seen in my DianeLoves2Quilt blog, the entry for October 7th. As luck would have it, both the JoAnn's fabric store and Dan's new job were in Huntington Beach just 6 minutes apart from each other. We gave Dan a call and then Frank and I took the opportunity to visit the offices and warehouse area of the design and build construction company where he is newly employed.

After visiting Dan at work, we did some grocery shopping before returning home to prepare dinner while Dan and Carrie were still at work. I made a chicken, rice, and mushroom soup casserole at Dan's request and had broccoli as a veggie.

Vivian loves her broccoli trees and she was pretty fond of the casserole, too. We ate out back on their new patio Thursday night but here she is enjoying the leftovers the following Saturday evening.

Friday
Friday morning my neck and shoulder were not yet at 100% so Frank and I took our time getting ready in the morning. After we each had taken a relaxing bath, we went for a stroll in the neighborhood before the heat of the day. Just around the corner were new model homes for further building in Dan and Carrie's development. Frank and I enjoyed wandering through them. Some of the decor was appealing and I took some photos for ideas for Vivian's room. Her room now is decorated in pinks and greens with a little bird motif. I thought these pillows would be appropriate additions.

As a "sewist", I also was also interested in the construction of this pillow on the bed in another model home. I liked how by pleating striped fabric and top stitching the folds in opposite directions you get this clever wave effect.

Did you know the new term is not sewer but "sewist"? That is the leaning now because the word sewer can be pronounced two ways and one is not very complimentary... so-er or sue-er.

Dan has just completed a class in hunting safety so he can go hunting with his father-in-law in Ohio at Thanksgiving. These trophies were displayed on the wall in another one of the models. I suggested the center one might be a better alternative to a hunting expedition – easier, safer, lighter, less messy.

I also took this photo of wall hanging I found particularly interesting. Look closely. This is a chair and its shadow.

This painting made me think of how much Alex likes Mary Poppins. The black and yellow color combination is so cheery, it reminded me of his continual exuberant clapping as he watches the movies and shows he enjoys. Alex was not with us this trip

After touring the models we came back to home base and I cooked spaghetti for dinner. Vivian played with some of the toys we'd brought...

... and so did we.

After Vivian was bathed and in bed, Dan stayed up with Frank and me watched a bit of TV, Jeopardy and reruns of our favorite parts of the old movies Sleepless in Seattle (1993) and Jerry Maguire (1996). Remember that memorable line? "You had me at Hello." Renée Zellweger does not have the corner on that market. The same can be said for our granddaughter. We were looking forward to the weekend days of our visit and more time with her.