I'm a sucker for anything mother, but first a little Thanksgiving humor, culled from the children's page of my new newspaper The Everett Herald, sorry The Daily Herald:
What do you get after eating too much turkey? Dessert!
Mothers, my Mother, your mother, mothers in general:
I'm always touched by "Mother" talk. What people's memories are. How they were mothered or mother. I love listening to what gifts and surprises are being planned for mothers at holidays, Mother's Day, birthdays. When I hear good mother talk it brings me joy. Claire had a cute Facebook post this morning about Mothering Judy. And Jackie had an answer about Mothering Claire. I love mother talk.
Two colleagues lost their mother's this year. I understand the grief and pain this causes, but also the tangent joy of remembering. Remembering the good times, the friendship, of being mothered in our youth.
I guess it's reasonable to be thinking about mothers today since my Mother died on Thanksgiving Day in 1984. Thirty years ago and she is still an important part of my life. Besides all the love and acceptance she gave me, she had a wicked, sometimes warped, sometimes silly sense of humor. Christian was conceived during a trip to Disneyland so Mother really, really wanted me to name him Mickey. Yeah, that didn't happen. Can you imagine calling Christian Mickey? An unplanned pregnancy to an unwed mother wasn't an issue, but boy it sure would be fun to call him Mickey. Yeah, she was like that.
I swear she died on Thanksgiving Day on purpose so we would be forced to be thankful -- she was like that.
I know many have complex relationships with their mothers, but I didn't, and if she had a complex relationship with her Mother she kept it hidden. She always talked about our Grandmother Gilbert in glowing terms.
Books, poems, treatise, volumes, whole libraries are written about mothers. Bad mothers to saints, every portrait has been painted and I can't paint a new one. The love we have for our mother's might even surpass the love we have for our children. As Jeff said, When a mother dies we become orphans, no matter how old we are.
But I am thinking of mothers and wish I could write a portrait of mine. No one was ambivalent about her, she was loved or disregarded in just about equal measure with nothing in-between. I feel the same way a lot. Mother was poor, fat, funny, no formal education beyond high school, creative with very limited resources, lusty, lazy, unsure of herself in some social situations, the life of the party in others. Extremely wise.
She had big ole arms and could wrap you up in comfort or love or sheer joy, sitting next to you or talking thousands of miles away. She was like that. She would whoop with delight if she scored big in Scrabble or Dominoes. Moon, I think was the name of her game. I remember that. She would glow with pride over perfect hot rolls or angel food cake, she would laugh at cooking failures, cooking collapses. She loved to experiment; dinner plate size donuts, sauerbraten, guacamole when no one had even heard of it fifty years ago. She listened as Lonnie tried to describe it and how his Mother made it by squashing it with her molcajete. All new. And she did it to be nice to Lonnie, a lonely soldier a long way from his sunny Southern California home. A long way from his Mother. That was her big ole arms wrapping someone up in comforting love. Sometimes she smuggled an alcoholic beverage into our teetotaler home for some cooking experiment. That was mother.
She loved the unlovely, the undeserving. She buried her pride and humbled herself when she had to ask for help to feed her family. I can't imagine that she ever turned anyone away from her home, table or heart. Her religious beliefs were strong but flexible. No religious tenet could keep her from doing what her heart said was right. Yes, she had a dark side. She would get depressed, lonely, feel unlovely, sad, after all she was human with all the ups and downs life has to offer, but that is not her legacy. Her legacy is love.
Like I said, she loved her mother. Mother love going back to where? Moms, where would we be without them? With a gentle touch or a handy smack, Moms make the world go round. I love loving my Mother, I love being a mother, I love being a mother who is loved.
My favorite piece of art? Michelangelo's Pieta, of course.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Thursday, November 20, 2014
I'm All Abuzz
Jean flew a mercy mission, again. Thank you Jean for the Cranberry Relish recipe. I plan to make good use of it this Thanksgiving Day.
I've discovered even bad biscuits taste good on a cold, cold day, however bad pumpkin bread is bad no matter what.
I was teasing Ian early the other morning and asked him if he wanted some pumpkin bread before he left for work in thirty minutes. Little smart aleck said "Yes" knowing there was no way I could do it. When I asked I was teasing him, but then I remembered I had some left over bread in the freezer from some distant past holiday baking. I defrosted it while he showered and presented it to him as he was leaving, with a flourish, "Here is your hot pumpkin bread." He scooped it up, with a flourish, and said "I'll share it at work." Taste it first, I pleaded, it has been in the freezer for a while, make sure it is share-able.
He texted me later and said it wasn't share-able.
Bad pumpkin bread is just plain bad.
My awesome scar at my eye is disappearing. I complained to Jean that it was turning into a "cute" scar. Jean reminded me a "cute" scar was better than no scar at all. Jean is always right.
The doctor's have determined my wobbliness and tremors are probably due to low vitamin B-12. I will start a series of shots for the next six weeks. I canceled the neurologist appointment, I don't really want him poking around in my brain. I'm scared of what he will find, or not. All my other tests were sort of normal.
Jeff if you really really want a handicap-hangy-down-thing you have to be wobbly.
When I went to the medical supply place with my prescription in hand they only had an ugly black cane and an ugly grey cane. If I am going to wobble around with a cane, by golly, it is going to be interesting, I'll just buy the dern thing. Haven't yet.
I somehow wrecked a knee and it is giving me fits. About 15 years ago the doctor told me I needed to have something inside fixed, a meniscus or something like that, of course I didn't do it. Ever since, ever once in a while, it goes out of whack, but this time it seems a little more serious. Oh, woe is me. I need that cane.
My Godzilla plant apparently hates warm weather. I used to pull 20 dead leaves a day off the plant, now that it is cold I get 1 or 2. I think it's holding onto its leaves for dear life.
I bought a fricken newspaper. I have no idea why. I was in the grocery store looking at cookies, lovingly I might add, and almost ran my cart into the salesman. He said, "Whoa there partner, have I got a deal for you." I could get three months for 4.95 a month and they would give me three 5.00 grocery gift cards right then. Okay, I kinda like a newspaper, although not as much at some other family members, and it was for the Everett Herald, Mary's favorite local paper, so I said yes. I still have no idea why, but I didn't buy the cookies and my 39.00 worth of groceries was 24.00 that day. Did I win or lose?
What if you only had six months left to live? You know, the Earth will explode in six months sort of scenario. How would you spend those six months? I knew I never should have read The Last Policeman by Ben Winters. Would you go for the Bucket List, continue on, commit suicide, commit an act of revenge on a long held grievance, forgive a long held grievance?
As I pondered this it seemed to me life is like a river, I live life forward, towards my children, and their children, but this doesn't account for my friends who don't have children. They live life forward also. We won't get out of life alive, but we continue forward somehow. Actually we do all have a metaphorical asteroid heading for us personally, we won't get out of life alive, but in this novel we all go boom together. If we are all going to go boom -- what then would you do? Interesting question that I have no answer for.
I am saddened by bad things happening to good people.
Look at Buffalo.
I am really saddened by bad things happening to good people and there is nothing I can do about it but love them.
I made a comforting soup to help drive away thinking about bad things. I think I would still cook soup if an asteroid was headed my way. You will not be sorry if you make it. I found the recipe when I went through a thousand recipes some time ago. I have no idea where the recipe came from, who gave it to me, or anything else about it, but there are seven other soup recipes on that same sheet of paper and now I plan to make all of them. This is soup weather and this soup is delicious.
Savory Cheese Soup
1 large onion chopped
1 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup flour
3/4 teaspoon dry mustard
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce, I used more
2 cups chicken broth
2 carrots chopped
1 large potato cubed
2 cups milk
3 cups shredded cheddar cheese
salt & pepper
Saute onion and celery
Stir in flour, mustard and Worcestershire until vegetables are evenly coated and mixture is bubbly.
Stir in broth, carrots, potato
Bring to boil stirring occasionally
Cook about 25 min
Add milk
Cook over medium heat until almost boiling
Do not boil
Reduce heat and add cheese
Not a heritage recipe, but absolutely yummy.
I read an article about de-cluttering your life and all it did for me was clutter up my brain. But my asteroid isn't here yet and I have some things to give away. Summer do you still collect tea sets? Are you interested in antiques, glitzy stuff, sentimental stuff, jewelry, Native American, heritage linens, hankies, turtles, frogs, clowns? Have I got a collection for you, except for a tea set, I don't think I have one of those, but I have everything else on this list. If you want some it's yours just let me know what you collect or what you would like to collect. Love you.
I found some more grapefruit scented soap and that made me happy.
I made soup.
Washed all my throw rugs.
Wrote the blog.
Planned my Thanksgiving dinner
Wrote my grocery list.
Watched a movie, La Danse.
Not bad, documentary about the Paris Opera Ballet.
Talked to Jean for a bit.
Ian told me he wanted a new iron and ironing board for Christmas.
Only Ian.
I'm buying groceries tomorrow since Ian will be available to haul them in and put them away.
Just how delightful can life be, asteroid or not.
I've discovered even bad biscuits taste good on a cold, cold day, however bad pumpkin bread is bad no matter what.
I was teasing Ian early the other morning and asked him if he wanted some pumpkin bread before he left for work in thirty minutes. Little smart aleck said "Yes" knowing there was no way I could do it. When I asked I was teasing him, but then I remembered I had some left over bread in the freezer from some distant past holiday baking. I defrosted it while he showered and presented it to him as he was leaving, with a flourish, "Here is your hot pumpkin bread." He scooped it up, with a flourish, and said "I'll share it at work." Taste it first, I pleaded, it has been in the freezer for a while, make sure it is share-able.
He texted me later and said it wasn't share-able.
Bad pumpkin bread is just plain bad.
My awesome scar at my eye is disappearing. I complained to Jean that it was turning into a "cute" scar. Jean reminded me a "cute" scar was better than no scar at all. Jean is always right.
The doctor's have determined my wobbliness and tremors are probably due to low vitamin B-12. I will start a series of shots for the next six weeks. I canceled the neurologist appointment, I don't really want him poking around in my brain. I'm scared of what he will find, or not. All my other tests were sort of normal.
Jeff if you really really want a handicap-hangy-down-thing you have to be wobbly.
When I went to the medical supply place with my prescription in hand they only had an ugly black cane and an ugly grey cane. If I am going to wobble around with a cane, by golly, it is going to be interesting, I'll just buy the dern thing. Haven't yet.
I somehow wrecked a knee and it is giving me fits. About 15 years ago the doctor told me I needed to have something inside fixed, a meniscus or something like that, of course I didn't do it. Ever since, ever once in a while, it goes out of whack, but this time it seems a little more serious. Oh, woe is me. I need that cane.
My Godzilla plant apparently hates warm weather. I used to pull 20 dead leaves a day off the plant, now that it is cold I get 1 or 2. I think it's holding onto its leaves for dear life.
I bought a fricken newspaper. I have no idea why. I was in the grocery store looking at cookies, lovingly I might add, and almost ran my cart into the salesman. He said, "Whoa there partner, have I got a deal for you." I could get three months for 4.95 a month and they would give me three 5.00 grocery gift cards right then. Okay, I kinda like a newspaper, although not as much at some other family members, and it was for the Everett Herald, Mary's favorite local paper, so I said yes. I still have no idea why, but I didn't buy the cookies and my 39.00 worth of groceries was 24.00 that day. Did I win or lose?
What if you only had six months left to live? You know, the Earth will explode in six months sort of scenario. How would you spend those six months? I knew I never should have read The Last Policeman by Ben Winters. Would you go for the Bucket List, continue on, commit suicide, commit an act of revenge on a long held grievance, forgive a long held grievance?
As I pondered this it seemed to me life is like a river, I live life forward, towards my children, and their children, but this doesn't account for my friends who don't have children. They live life forward also. We won't get out of life alive, but we continue forward somehow. Actually we do all have a metaphorical asteroid heading for us personally, we won't get out of life alive, but in this novel we all go boom together. If we are all going to go boom -- what then would you do? Interesting question that I have no answer for.
I am saddened by bad things happening to good people.
Look at Buffalo.
I am really saddened by bad things happening to good people and there is nothing I can do about it but love them.
I made a comforting soup to help drive away thinking about bad things. I think I would still cook soup if an asteroid was headed my way. You will not be sorry if you make it. I found the recipe when I went through a thousand recipes some time ago. I have no idea where the recipe came from, who gave it to me, or anything else about it, but there are seven other soup recipes on that same sheet of paper and now I plan to make all of them. This is soup weather and this soup is delicious.
Savory Cheese Soup
1 large onion chopped
1 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup flour
3/4 teaspoon dry mustard
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce, I used more
2 cups chicken broth
2 carrots chopped
1 large potato cubed
2 cups milk
3 cups shredded cheddar cheese
salt & pepper
Saute onion and celery
Stir in flour, mustard and Worcestershire until vegetables are evenly coated and mixture is bubbly.
Stir in broth, carrots, potato
Bring to boil stirring occasionally
Cook about 25 min
Add milk
Cook over medium heat until almost boiling
Do not boil
Reduce heat and add cheese
Not a heritage recipe, but absolutely yummy.
I read an article about de-cluttering your life and all it did for me was clutter up my brain. But my asteroid isn't here yet and I have some things to give away. Summer do you still collect tea sets? Are you interested in antiques, glitzy stuff, sentimental stuff, jewelry, Native American, heritage linens, hankies, turtles, frogs, clowns? Have I got a collection for you, except for a tea set, I don't think I have one of those, but I have everything else on this list. If you want some it's yours just let me know what you collect or what you would like to collect. Love you.
I found some more grapefruit scented soap and that made me happy.
I made soup.
Washed all my throw rugs.
Wrote the blog.
Planned my Thanksgiving dinner
Wrote my grocery list.
Watched a movie, La Danse.
Not bad, documentary about the Paris Opera Ballet.
Talked to Jean for a bit.
Ian told me he wanted a new iron and ironing board for Christmas.
Only Ian.
I'm buying groceries tomorrow since Ian will be available to haul them in and put them away.
Just how delightful can life be, asteroid or not.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
A Silent Life
A Seattle kind of day: A spectacular moon full and quiet, a drenching rain storm blew its way through to somewhere, clouds bantered about from horizon to horizon, the sun burst forth with fierce intensity, wind picked up speed and action. It was glorious fall in all its luminosity.
A graceful interlude of silence. My quiet home, quiet time, quiet habits, my quiet life.
...and then I watched the movie World War Z.
I had breakfast with Claire, lunch with Lynn, playdate with Connor, a doctor appointment where she told me 19 more things wrong with me. One mammogram, three vaccinations, multiple vials of blood, ten tests for this and that, a handicap hang tag for wobbliness and tremors, an appointment with a neurologist for wobbliness and tremors, a prescription for a cane. Yeah, that's what I said, "You need a prescription for a cane? I thought you just walked into a store and bought one." It seems if you have a prescription insurance will pay for it -- maybe.
A cold front moved in, winter coats came out, heaters cranked up. People were driving insanely. Some days the driving seems so bad you just want to get home alive. There were accidents, cars stalled, traffic so snarled and slowed down cars started jockeying for positions, jumping lanes for a fractionally better advantage -- crazy man crazy.
And pedestrians practically knocking you over to get around, ahead, or go faster then my wobbly old gait allowed -- crazy man crazy.
I forgot today was free street parking in downtown Seattle and I paid my usual $16.00 -- crazy man crazy.
So it goes, some days are silent and some days aren't.
The day the wind blew I drove to Mukilteo Beach to watch the wave action. It was fierce. Possession Sound was covered in white caps. If you have been to Mukilteo Beach you will be amazed when I tell you the tide was so high only about four feet of beach remained above the sound. High, high, high tide and people about -- walking dogs, babies, each other. It was something to see.
Speaking of silence, I haven't heard anything since the heart doctor appointment. How is Jean?
Is it snowing where you speak?
I have a list of some foodie movies for Chris Miller, good foodie movies. And a few heritage recipes for the foodie in you.
Foodie Movie List
Big Night
Babette's Feast
Mostly Martha
NOT the American version No Resevations
Eat, Drink, Man, Woman
The American version isn't bad, Tortilla Soup
The Lunch Box
Dinner Rush
The Trip
El Bulli: Cooking in Progress
Jiro Dreams of Sushi
Tampopo
Ratatouille
Heritage Recipes:
Lora Gilbert's Southern Spicy Gingerbread
2 eggs
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup molasses
3/4 cup melted shortening
2 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons soda
2 teaspoons ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup boiling water
Mix sugar, molasses, shortening
Add beaten eggs
Add dry ingredients
Add hot water
Pour greased and floured pan
Bake 350 degrees 45 minutes
Homestead Vinegar Pie Great Grandmother Gilbert's (Frank's Mother)
1/2 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons flour
Cinnamon (no amount given)
2 Tablespoons cream
3/4 cup water
2 Tablespoons vinegar
sufficient for one small pie
No other information or instructions -- good luck.
And good luck with your quiet life.
A graceful interlude of silence. My quiet home, quiet time, quiet habits, my quiet life.
...and then I watched the movie World War Z.
I had breakfast with Claire, lunch with Lynn, playdate with Connor, a doctor appointment where she told me 19 more things wrong with me. One mammogram, three vaccinations, multiple vials of blood, ten tests for this and that, a handicap hang tag for wobbliness and tremors, an appointment with a neurologist for wobbliness and tremors, a prescription for a cane. Yeah, that's what I said, "You need a prescription for a cane? I thought you just walked into a store and bought one." It seems if you have a prescription insurance will pay for it -- maybe.
A cold front moved in, winter coats came out, heaters cranked up. People were driving insanely. Some days the driving seems so bad you just want to get home alive. There were accidents, cars stalled, traffic so snarled and slowed down cars started jockeying for positions, jumping lanes for a fractionally better advantage -- crazy man crazy.
And pedestrians practically knocking you over to get around, ahead, or go faster then my wobbly old gait allowed -- crazy man crazy.
I forgot today was free street parking in downtown Seattle and I paid my usual $16.00 -- crazy man crazy.
So it goes, some days are silent and some days aren't.
The day the wind blew I drove to Mukilteo Beach to watch the wave action. It was fierce. Possession Sound was covered in white caps. If you have been to Mukilteo Beach you will be amazed when I tell you the tide was so high only about four feet of beach remained above the sound. High, high, high tide and people about -- walking dogs, babies, each other. It was something to see.
Speaking of silence, I haven't heard anything since the heart doctor appointment. How is Jean?
Is it snowing where you speak?
I have a list of some foodie movies for Chris Miller, good foodie movies. And a few heritage recipes for the foodie in you.
Foodie Movie List
Big Night
Babette's Feast
Mostly Martha
NOT the American version No Resevations
Eat, Drink, Man, Woman
The American version isn't bad, Tortilla Soup
The Lunch Box
Dinner Rush
The Trip
El Bulli: Cooking in Progress
Jiro Dreams of Sushi
Tampopo
Ratatouille
Heritage Recipes:
Lora Gilbert's Southern Spicy Gingerbread
2 eggs
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup molasses
3/4 cup melted shortening
2 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons soda
2 teaspoons ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup boiling water
Mix sugar, molasses, shortening
Add beaten eggs
Add dry ingredients
Add hot water
Pour greased and floured pan
Bake 350 degrees 45 minutes
Homestead Vinegar Pie Great Grandmother Gilbert's (Frank's Mother)
1/2 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons flour
Cinnamon (no amount given)
2 Tablespoons cream
3/4 cup water
2 Tablespoons vinegar
sufficient for one small pie
No other information or instructions -- good luck.
And good luck with your quiet life.
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