Mom's Cooking

Being the mother of five, and now the grandma to 7, there's been much cooking going on in our home for a long time. Until my second marriage, I did all the meal planning and fixing. Then I got lucky. I married a man whose hobby is food. He eats it, watches it on the food channel, talks about it, spends hours reading recipes and drooling over cookbook photos. He shops for ingredients, he prepares, he experiments with spices and flavors and combinations, and he serves it with aplomb. Suffice it to say, he's my hero!

No longer do I have to cater to young palates who didn't like much of anything! No longer will I find dried lima beans or broccoli at the foot of the basement stairs! ('What is THAT about?', you ask. To make a long story short, for years a very confused Mom/Cook wondered how dried vegetables made their way to the basement floor. Only in recent years have confessions come forth from laughing adults to whom I attempted to feed well-balanced meals. They would spit their dreaded vegetables into napkins and either toss the wadded up paper into the waste basket, or they'd pocket them until they could deposit them somewhere other than the pits of their stomachs! )

The five of my children could never agree upon anything they all liked, except perhaps for their father's favorite choice...hamburgers. It made for an extremely boring job. I'd never been more than a 'home cooking' type of cook, and I hadn't learned the art of spicing things up. Food had to be bland and plain to get the kids to even taste it, let alone to get it into the gullets of my bunch. Perhaps that's why, when I remarried, my beloved husband took over the kitchen duties. My kids survived. They thrived and these days, thank heaven, they have expanded their menu choices, but there are still some who will not eat specific vegetables, and prefer corn to any of the others offered.

Now, the chief CHEF and bottle washer is the recipient of complaints from the younger generation. "Papa, I don't LIKE green beans." "No thank you, Papa. I don't really care for cheese sauce." Etc. I hear it, but it doesn't phase me much. I TRY to suggest a menu that MIGHT pass the fuss-budget critics, but even when you think 'Kid Cuisine', there are still complaints from one or another.

We've decided that the food will be there on the table, and if they eat it, great! If they don't, they will survive on the small bits they will consent to digest. There are always some choices that we know will be eaten (carrot sticks and celery sticks with peanut butter, certain raw vegetables and ranch dressing, and corn.) We've seen no evidence of abandoned vegetables in this house, but if the kids try to pull that trick, they'll need to be more creative, as we don't HAVE a basement in this house!

With all the laughter of my grown children over what they were served and rejected, there are other remembrances...one of which is that I made the BEST cookies in the world! We NEVER had store-bought cookies, I always baked them. I always felt that the bought ones tasted little better than the containers they were packaged in. Had I tried to sneak any of them into the family diet, I have no doubt that I'd have found those treats, dried or soggy and minus their chocolate chips, at the foot of the basement stairs with the vegetables. Quite a buffet to attract who-knows-what creatures....anything but kids!

One of my blog readers has been hinting that I've been away from it too long and need to get back at it. My answer to her was that you have to be able to string 3 thoughts together in some comprehensible fashion in order to write. She knows, full well, that I've been entertaining two granddaughters this summer, and my thoughts have been revolving around their interests, ideas, and activities. There's not much time for thinking, other than that.

Thinking about kids and their schedules and needs, and how to best keep them occupied is a challenge at times, especially when they are not your own children. You always do what you think is best, but have something in the back of your head which asks you, 'would this be ok with their mother?' or 'how do I make both of them happy?' That's a tough one, when with nearly three years separating their ages, and very different personalities, their interests vary to great degrees. As I said, you just do what you think is best, and let the chips fall where they may.

This summer we've done far less than we did last year. I had a list of things that we'd planned to do with the girls, but for one or another reason, many of them haven't been accomplished. We've done the usual painting and drawing and some beading. Much time has been spent crafting at home. Each of girls has a sewing project, some woven pot holders, an artificial flower arrangement, and a creatively-formed scrapbook of photos to take home. We've visited with family in Georgia twice, with pool time and a birthday celebration. We've got another Aunt and cousins coming on Saturday. There was a visit to a bluegrass pickin' session. We've had some church activities and we've spent some time with friends. On Friday night we'll have a hot dog roast and s'mores around our neighbors fire pit.

There have been other challenges, as well. Gram and Papa are a year older this year, and each has a physical ailment that has slowed them down a bit since last year. Add to that one pre-teen with mood swings and one very fussy eater, and you can see how my thoughts have been directed! I'm not complaining. It's just life with children, as all parents and grandparents know. Time is not your own when you are involved with children, and you must think about them with every thought.

Now the visit is nearly over and we're planning the trip home. My brain is being taxed as I try to help them locate all of their electrical gadgets (hand-held Nintendo DS, cell phone, dvd player, etc and all assorted wires and chargers) Since I'm technically challenged, I don't even know what these things are called in some cases! I wish I'd made an inventory list when they arrived, as I'm not aware of what they brought, let alone where it might be at this point. Their clothing needs to be gathered, laundry needs to be done, and bags packed. Since we'll be taking four days to travel the 900 miles to their Mom, we've decided that the easiest way to pack would be to put 3 outfits and night wear into an overnight bag that will go in and out of motels with us, so that 4 people don't have to lug huge bags every step of the way.

Trips always require a good deal of planning. Lists abound: bank for cash, new cell phone, don't forget PRESCRIPTIONS, store for traveling food and drinks, reservations, attractions to see and things to do, how to best pack the van. The calendar is full this last week: youth night at church, brake job for the van, visit from relatives, hot dog roast, ice cream social. The calendar is empty, however, when compared to this head on my shoulders!

Having said all of that, there is no better thought than to think of those we love. I've been blessed to have these girls here to think about and share my days with since the end of June. Already, I'm looking forward to our next time together. I know that my long months without them around will be full of thoughts of them and what activities they are involved in that we can't be sharing because of the distance between our homes.

Blog thoughts will just have to wait until my return home. I hope I'll still have a reader left by that time!

Sleep...

What's on my mind this morning is sleep! I have always been an early-to-bed, early-to rise person with a period of light sleep in between. I don't ever remember not hearing things as I sleep and there's absolutely never been a time when I've slept past 7:30 a.m. When I was a child, I'd be raring to go before my feet hit the floor. I had to wait for literally hours until my friends opened their eyes to begin their days. How in the world could anyone sleep until 10 a.m.?
The day was half over!

It's not that I'm vexed with stress or pain that keep me awake. I don't have any earth-shattering or even niggling problems to work through. I just don't sleep well.

When I had my first baby, things got worse in the area of sleep. Of course we had the usual middle-of the night feedings, and that's expected. What I didn't expect was a button that went off in me to make my ears much more atuned to any tiny sound. Not only did I listen for my baby's every whimper, but I could tell from many feet away if her soft breathing changed it's rhythm. From that day forward, I haven't found the shut off switch to the listening in the night.
I hear everything from the occasional vehicle on the street above us to the sound of the neighbor's dog paws in our yard. I'm not kidding.

My attitude has changed. I used to say that sleeping was a waste of good time. I was young and energetic in those days, and apparently I got enough rest between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m. to keep my mind sharp and my machine running. However, somewhere between then and now, I started going to bed earlier, 9 o'clock, waking around 4 a.m. with restlessness in between. These days, I am not full of energy, have a few aches and pains, and do not rest. I don't know if the reduced energy level results in the lack of rest or the other way around. All I know is that something's got to give.

I'm not pleased to take pills for any reason, so I fight the idea of a sleep aid. I did try Tylenol PM one time and felt as if I had a 'hang over' the next morning. The drowsiness after waking with the sleep aid was worse than the waking from a fitful night's sleep. I don't know what the answer is, but I need to get a proper night of rest. Yaaaaaaaawn.

Has anyone got a suggestion?

Today's Technologies

I'm finding it challenging to keep up with kids in the technology department. When I was a child, the best technology we had was a TV set..and there was little tv to be watched during the day. Other than that, there was not a single piece of technological recreation to be had. I don't know what they're talking about when they tell me about their hand-held computer gadgets, so Heaven help them if they run into some sort of problem. I'm not privy to 'Webkins' and how they work. I can set a VCR to record, but for some reason, the DVD doesn't respond to my command to do the same. I do not know what an Ipod is or how to download music to a....whatchamacallit, oh yes...an MP3 player. I just bought my first real cell phone, to replace the old pay-as-you-go walkie-talkie phone that we had when my husband travelled so much. Sadly, I must tell you that my 9 year old and 12 year old granddaughters had to help me with my choices when I purchased it. I didn't have a clue. All I knew was that I wanted it to make and receive phone calls....no texting was necessary, no camera please, no music, no videos, no music, nor the rest of the fancy, confusing gadgetry. When I got it home, the pre-teen had to instruct me on how to set up my contacts and ring tones and how to retrieve my messages. Sigh....

A little more than a decade ago, I bought my first computer. Now, I'm glad I did, but up until that time, I was afraid of it. I feared I'd mess it up in my ignorance, and it would never be right again. However, my excuse was...'machines already put too many people out of work, I won't be a party to it by buying one of those things.' Little did I realize how many people have jobs because of computers! Anyway...I learned to use it, and learned to love it too. I don't know how I'd get along without it now. Such is the way of technology, I suppose. At first we are cautious of the 'new', but once it becomes familiar, we can not do without it.


I must be really showing my age, but life was so simple when I was growing up. We might have had a moment here or there when we were bored, but not often. There were friends, and physical activities. There was the beach to go to, and guess what? We walked or rode our bicycles the three miles or so to get to it from our house! There were bbq's on Sunday evenings, with the family...aunts and cousins all around. We kids didn't need to sit still and listen to every word the adults were saying...we played together away from the grown ups. We didn't know the details of crime, or the latest happenings in Washington or even what was happening to the family next door. If those things were discussed, they were adult conversations and we were not privy to them. In many ways we were protected and kept innocent, and I'm quite in favor of it.


Today life moves fast and children grow up at lightening speed. With access to the entire world at their fingertips from pre-school age, they hear everything and they learn about adult life far too quickly, in my opinion. There's no way around it, though, I'm afraid. We've gone too far to keep them from hearing all the news reports and the local gossip. Our children are intelligent and aware of all that goes on in this world, and the days of innocence and being protected from the evils are gone.


I far prefer the days when I was a child...those 'good old days' when I could play and breathe fresh air and think no further than what time Mom told me to be home for dinner. I did not concern myself with serial killers and wars across the world, and it was a much nicer way of life, I think. I had my transistor radio with the AM station, and I was happy. Today's kids really seem to 'know it all', and I feel somewhat lost as an elder in this world of endless technology. I'm too far behind, and can't imagine that I'll ever catch up. I'm even prone to calling myself 'old-fashioned' now, rather than the 'open-minded' term I used to pin on myself. I am, however, one step or two up from my husband, who doesn't want to know about a computer or a cell phone. He's still prefers a manual typewriter and a dial phone! Does anyone even know what that is today?

Time does march on, it's true, and even if we're lost in it, we're dragged along with it. We'll learn what we must, even if it takes a 12 year old to teach us.

Summer Morning Meanderings...

For a little while this morning, the doors were opened to let out the stuffy air and let in the fresh. The sun is bright, even at this early 7:30 hour, and the promise of 'killer' heat is obvious. I've already had to shut the doors. The air conditioner started pumping when the temperature in the house reached 77 deg.

My mind wanders this morning...from weather, to friends with health issues, to the sweet grandchildren who are sleeping upstairs. The cares and the blessings of life, mingling as they have a way of doing. The tides of life ebb and flow, bringing with them what they will. All is well, I'm content, knowing that much of this is beyond my control and safely in the hands of the One who is in complete control.

I'm looking forward to the next six or so weeks. Kimberly and Rebecca will be with us for the entire time. We have lots of things planned, but we also have a lot of 'hang out' time planned. I'm one of those people who feel that kids ought to have a few minutes to think and plan their own activities, without having to go to lessons or planned activities. Rebecca has already decided that she wants to do a lot of gardening with her Papa and arts and crafts with her Grammie. Kimberly has lots of reading on her list, as well as crafting. That fits the bill for their crafty grandmother, too, as there are a few projects to complete (decorations for our church 4th of July picnic)

Papa and I have a few secrets too. We will be driving the girls back to their home 900 miles from here, and we'll make it a vacation trip. They've always wanted to stay in a log cabin, so rather than a motel room, with all the amenities of home, one night will be stayed in a KOA cabin, where one must bring their own linens and walk the distance to the public bathroom and showers. Another over-night will be spent in a motel which is constructed entirely of old train cabooses. The restaurant there (a train dining car) has a mechanism which makes the car
feel as though it's moving down the tracks, all the while train music is playing for our listening enjoyment. There's an old steam train that passes just in front of the motel.

All this is in the heart of Amish country, so there will be old farms to view on our ride, with discussions of equipment such as old fashioned windmills which pump water to the houses, out-houses, one room school houses, home-made food stuffs which we'll find at the local stands and farmer's markets. I'm sure we'll have the opportunity to see many horse and buggies, and people dressed in unusual and simple clothing. We undoubtedly will have conversations about that, as well as why we mustn't take photographs of these folks. Sometimes children need to see that others live in different ways from what they might be used to, and that those differences must be embraced and respected. We look forward to introducing them to the Amish way of life.

But, for this morning, I'll return to the loose routine of summer at Grandma's house, and I'll deal with the non-stop use of technology...telephones, television and other viewing equipment, computers, video games. Sigh....I wonder why I wasn't born Amish, or if I'd really rather have been!

East Hampton Visitor

About mid-way through my kindergarten year, my parents moved the family from East Hampton to Bay Shore. My father had secured a job at Republic Airfield in Farmingdale where he would work spray painting the planes. I was uprooted from my teachers, Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Wilson and the class I had just begun to be comfortable in.

Many weekends of the month, we would go to East Hampton to visit the families we'd left behind...both sets of grandparents, numerous aunts and uncles and cousins. In those days, about 1954, the trip took quite some time on the only route to and from east to west, the old Montauk Highway. We had to travel through all of the little towns between Bay Shore and East Hampton, slowly making our way 'home.' I remember listening to the 'thump thump, thump thump' of the tires going over the seams between the cement slabs that were the highway, and watching out the window as the telephone poles ticked off the hours to our destination. Sometimes by the time we arrived, I felt a bit sick to my stomach. Sometimes I had bouts of feeling car sick. I don't remember enjoying those rides much, but they were quickly forgotten when I was greeted by the relatives.

There were times when my father's parents would as if I wanted to stay until the following week when my parents would return. To this day, decision making doesn't come easy for me, but as a five or six year old, it was insanely difficult. I would gleefully decided, "Yes!" and in moments, change my mind, and minutes later, I'd be back to 'yes'. I'd repeat all of that indecision until it was too much for one of the adults. My dad would eventually decide for me, after hearing the see-saw of yeses and nos. He would load me into the car with the rest of the family, and begin backing out of the driveway on to Cedar Street. We'd get to the Snowball bush planted near the end of the driveway, and I'd begin to bellow from the back seat that I wanted to stay. Dad would pull back in, stop the car and ask if I was sure. I was, until I got out and saw the car start to back out again. Then I'd bellow that I wanted to stay. Again...the decision was made by the driver. I was either put back into the car and on my way back to Bay Shore or I was left to bellow at the side of my Grandmother. Whatever decision was made, it was quickly adopted by me, and I was fine for the rest of the week. But the scene was replayed whenever the invitation was issued to me to stay with Daddy's folks.

I loved being at my Grandparent's house. The hollyhocks played 'peeping tom' near the bedroom window where I slept in a big metal bed. The bees darted in and out of the Rose of Sharon blossoms there. The grass was sweet under the early morning dew. I was allowed to go barefoot at Grandma's, but never at home. The driveway was dry in summer, and I thought it was good fun to drag my feet in that soft, warm dirt, kicking up a great cloud of dust. The honeysuckle in the hedgerow sent forth a heavy on the summer air.

Evenings after supper, Grandma and I would cross Cedar Street, and walk in 'the Nursery'. (Boxwood Court and another subdivision are there now) Grandma, seeing the first star peek through the dusk, would recite 'Starlight, Starbright', until I learned to say it too. Hand in hand we'd walk, until it was time to return to the little house for a bath and bedtime.

Grandpa had a vegetable garden, and he'd let me help him work in it. I'm sure I didn't do much, other than to enjoy being with him, but he showed me how to hoe the soil around the plants to keep it soft and workable. I can see him out there now, his pipe clenched between his teeth, wearing a pair of old cut off work pants, exposing his white legs, and his high topped work boots. I had high top shoes too, brown ones, that Grandpa had bought for me because he felt that I needed sturdy shoes. (Oh how my mother hated those shoes! But, I wore them anyway, because they were good ones, and my mother was not one to waste anything.)

Grampa had grapes too. I can remember helping him pick those, while he whistled as he worked. He whistled a lot, though I'm told he had a beautiful singing voice that he used as a soloist in church, and in gatherings on the front porch of my Grandmother's home when he was courting her. I can remember hearing him sing only once. The song was "Que Sera, Sera."

Our time away from East Hampton lasted just shy of three years, and we returned 'home' to stay. I learned to adjust to places and people as a result of that move to another town, and I also made some memories of grandparents, that might have been quite different had we stayed in our hometown instead.

And, my Dad would be happy to know that I have learned to make permanent decisions more quickly, but still, not easily.

Grateful Hearts

On Sunday we attended the dedication of a Habitat for Humanity home. The house had been donated and moved to a new location in May of 2007. Through the process of renewal, I had taken photographs, documenting the changes. On Friday, I'd made a trip to the house, hoping to find the house completely ready for its new owner.

I was fortunate. Not only did my camera find the home finished, but I was able to meet and photograph the young woman who would be the new owner. She was cleaning up a small amount of debris left in the driveway area before she attended to the closing that afternoon. I introduced myself to Gloria and explained my interest in the place. I am the sister of the original owner.

Gloria's gratitude was so obvious, as I spoke with her on Friday. She smiled from ear to ear as she told me how blessed she was to have been chosen for the renewed house. On Sunday, as the

forman of the work crew spoke, he reinforced for me that the right person had been chosen. He explained that Gloria was the most involved worker he'd ever seen. He said that they'd make a big mess, and leave for the day. When he arrived the next morning, Gloria had cleaned everything up, leaving the work area 'spic and span'. This told me that she'd take care of her little home.

When a soloist at the dedication service began to sing, "Thank You Lord", Gloria sobbed her gratitude. She later spoke of how good her God had been to bless her with her goal in owning her own home someday. She was so sincere, I had no doubt. As I listened to her speaking through her tears, my own heart swelled with gratitude that the Lord had blessed us all with her gift, and I, too found myself weeping with joy.