a hopeful theory

I visited my cousin soon after her mother died. She had a few things of her

mom's out on a table for me to see. I recognized many of them as they had

at one time been in our grandma's house. When I saw this miniature tea set at home on

her shelf, I gasped in delight! One of my favorite childhood memories 

is "playing restaurant" at our grandma's house during our summer visits. 

These were the dishes we used and they are so familiar to me! 

One of the reasons we enjoyed pretending we were servers in a restaurant 

was because our grandma had a really cool pantry with countertops, and a SWINGING 

door from there into the dining room. You can imagine the fun. 

I'm so glad my cousin has them on display.

Another surprise was to see my other grandmother's old brass dinner gong 

displayed in our kids' breakfast room at their new house.

It was in my father's childhood home, 

so of course in my grandparents' house 

where we would visit 

and loved to play with it––until we heard 

"Enough!"

And then it came to our house after a short time at my parents' house.

And now our grands are growing up with it in their house.

This proves to me a hopeful theory I am working on--that 

our kids are starting to show an interest in old family "heirlooms"!

That news brings a smile! 

spring styling

I enjoy this view in any season, on my way home from the gym. I've been waiting

for the blossoms to come, and they finally have, but ever so slowly. Spring is in full bloom here

because of our warm February. But it has progressed slowly because it's cold again.

Looking outside at the beauty all around one would never guess it was below freezing this morning.

It seems so, so cold--maybe because we're ready for it to be warmer, or maybe it's all the wind.

Inside it's another story.

When my DIL told me there is a newish business where 

someone comes in and "styles" your shelves, book cases and china cupboards (etc),

I took a look at mine . . . a little busy, tired-looking and yes, overcrowded.

It sounded like a fun job.

So I decided to do a little restyling of my own china cabinet.

I'm not sure I changed the world with my work,

but it sure was fun and gave me a mental boost.

I think I might enjoy being a "stylist."

where's the catsup?

Catsup bottles seem to go with angel food cakes, at least in my mind. I can still see the kitchen of my childhood and a tall catsup* glass bottle on the counter with the angel food cake in the pan resting upside down. 

This week was DIL's birthday and since our oldest granddaughter (who I used to call Little One) loves to cook, we decided to cook a meal together to celebrate her mom's birthday. I let her plan the menu according to what she considered her mom's favorites. It was a full one (and I even cut out a few items): spaghetti with meatballs, cheese pizza, salad, garlic bread and angel food cake with strawberries and whip cream for dessert.  

Little B's teacher let me take her out of school an hour early so we had plenty of time. We donned aprons and began first with the cake (the spaghetti sauce was simmering in the crock pot.) I could not remember the last time I made an angel food cake, if I ever did. I was happy to find, after basically crawling into that dark, dungeon-like space under the corner counter, my mother's angel food cake pan--far better than the cheaper one I had owned and given away when hers arrived in my kitchen. We used a mix. Somehow separating 12 eggs sounded like an ordeal, so we let Betty C. do it for us. 

Little B. did great. She insisted we follow directions to a T, including removing the extra oven rack and placing the other one at rock bottom of the oven, very nearly touching the heat element. We measured the pan so we knew for sure we had four inches for the cake to rise.

Brown and cracking on the top, the cake was baked and we instantly (per directions) turned it over and placed it on --- what? to cool. No glass catsup bottle in my frig. We finally found a bottle of oil that 

was narrow enough to fit the hole in the pan.

It worked so smoothly (it pays to follow directions!) that I feel like I 

would make another one without hesitation.

Little B. did a fine job decorating the cake according to her creative druthers.

She made place cards for us and created a game involving saying good things about her mom.

Table was set, water in glasses, candles lit, and all was in readiness when the rest of the family arrived.

* So I looked up catsup and ketchup and found they indeed

mean the same, but in the 50s, when I was a child, catsup

was more commonly used, so I chose that spelling for today. 

beauty in the gray

An old redbud across the street has flourished for many a spring. 

Its wispy splendor catches my breath.

We have two little redbuds in our own yard now; 

they bloom one after the other.

I think their beauty shines most brilliantly on a gray or rainy day.

The Gardener and I were to embark on a long journey last week that would

take us to the bottom of the continent of Africa.

Among other things, the Gardener was looking forward to showing

 me the most beautiful city in the world, according to him.

The plans were long made and I was starting to pack when 

the searing pain of inflammation attacked his low back and hip.

It got worse and worse to the point we questioned the wisdom

of long flights and airport layovers. We prayed for clear

guidance and it came. We canceled the trip. God granted us

the grace to accept the deep disappointment, and filled us with peace

and release from needing to know the answer to "why." 

Instead we received a series of small serendipities that would

not have been possible had we been away.

We looked at them as gifts.

Beauty can come out of difficulty.

Blossoms can shine on gray days.

Dish Symphony

We are talking about simple tablescaping, family dinners, conversations at the

table, and all such things at our next mentor meeting. Just for fun, I took some of

my (too) many dishes and made a variety of place settings the night

we mentors had our planning meeting. For inspiration, I suppose.

These dishes are all cheap or gotten at resale shops.

Except for these that were my mother's.

You may gather from these settings that I have soup on

my mind, and especially love blue and white dishes and transferware.

We hope to instill in our girls thoughts of tradition,

simple beauty, and honoring their guests by setting a pretty table.

At least we'll throw it out there! 

Before I put it all away I took a picture.

Some of these plates I only have a couple of, and 

I got them because, well, I could change out dishes often.

I try to set a pretty table for our meal each night; I know

the Gardener appreciates it, though it seems a rarity anymore.

Each plate is like a piece of art!

beauty, bikes and a bonus

First the beauty: Our wonderful DIL dropped this lovely hydrangea off at our door this week to thank us for helping with their move. After working hard for three days I concluded I actually like the process of moving––that is, moving someone else, not me. :-)  We moved so often during the first half of our marriage, I guess I got good at the process. I enjoy the physical activity and the organizing part of it.

The Bike: Before they moved, one day I came by their house and saw this bike at their curb. Certainly an unusual place to leave a bike. It didn't look familiar to me and it stayed there two days. DIL said so many people came by, looked at it, and started searching on their cell phones. Turns out our son had to leave his car for service and rather than get a loaner they suggested he use a bike service. You simply look on your phone for where the nearest bike is, go get it, log in on your phone and off you go. You get charged by the time (I think) and just leave it at your destination for the next person to come along and use. If not used by a certain time, 

the bike company comes and places the bike in a busier location. 

When I was uptown for the trial I saw plenty of these bikes on street corners parked 

with kickstands or in bike racks. On a very windy day, I noticed quite a few lying on their sides.

~~~~

the end of the story

I've always considered myself a "student of humanity." I love to "people watch"

and figure things out. Any airport layover or waiting for someone at the mall--

the time flies for me as I find people fascinating to observe.

And I found lots of human study in what ended up to be a two-day trial where I sat on the jury.

Once I got over my disappointment at being seated,

I found everything about the process fascinating.

Everyone in the courtroom watched us closely, wondering, I'm sure,

what we were thinking and considering about the outcome. 

In general my mind easily wanders, but not during this experience. It was riveting

and I had no trouble remembering most all of what I heard and saw.

I nodded off once, when we watched a 45 minute search for evidence filmed from

a camera on the officer's head. Sorting through a large basket of laundry got
monotonous. I wasn't the only one dozing in the warm courtroom. 

The defendant himself's snoring could be heard once when he fell asleep. 

And the bailiff in his corner, was asleep when the ADA needed him 

to show us evidence. He hopped to it quickly

and there was a quiet ripple of laughter as he shook himself awake.

The same bailiff or deputy as he called himself was a pretty funny

guy as he led us to and from the jury box, all lined up according to our number, 

in silent single file like a mama duck with her ducklings.

It was so hard not to talk amongst ourselves about the case until given 

the official word to deliberate.

I felt a strong sense of responsibility, and that I was having a part in 

affecting the future of the defendant. I prayed for wisdom.

But it was a pretty straight forward case with overwhelming evidence of guilt so the

decision was not hard. There was some deliberation on a minor charge,  

and of course a discussion of what "beyond reasonable doubt" means. 

"Reasonable" was the word that helped me.

After all was finished, the judge came to the jury room to thank us.

She was a wonderful judge and very professional, but when she talked to us

after the trial, she was down to earth, answering all our questions about

the defendant and the system in general. The experience affected me a lot, 

and in the end, as often is the case, I'm thankful I had the opportunity.

here comes the judge

I was kind of dreading having to get up in the wee hours to allow time to drive into the city 
during rush hour, find the parking garage and then the jury holding room, etc. But I did. 
Went through all the legalities and the swearing in and then the sitting and waiting. 
At least we were in a new place since the last time I was called to jury duty. 
A lovely waiting area with big windows overlooking the city and all kinds of places to wait: 

with TV, without, with noise, without, with computers, without, and so on.

And then my name is called. A trial is about to begin. Thirty of us into a jury pool to 
be selected for this particular criminal trial. I find it strange to see the lawyers 
(and the defendant) fully turned around to really study who we all are as we file in and 
take a seat. The first 12 are called and the rest of us breathe a little easier. I'm sure we're 
all thinking of all we have to do this week and how we don't have time to sit for a trial. 

The selection process takes a long time. There was a young mother who is 
nursing her baby and needs to pump every two hours. This is apparently not an 
adequate excuse.  But then it comes out that she had a bad experience with lack 
of trust in someone's word and insists she trusts no one. 
That clinches it and she is dismissed. 

My name is called to sit in her chair, #5. The questions fired at me are at sometimes 
hard, and so detailed; awkward to answer in front of a room full of strangers. But, actually, 
it is very interesting to hear about everyones' lives. Details you would never learn at first 
meeting, or probably the second or third. I am amazed how many have been victims of 
crimes--at least three had their cars stolen. After they settled on me, several others 
are replaced, and their replacements also replaced. The pool narrows down 
to just a few as they finally called one for the alternate. That person also is switched 
out a couple of times as shadows lengthen and we near 5 pm. 

After a long day we are dismissed and told to come back at 9:15 

the next morning, ready to sit for the trial and do our civic duty.

symphony in blue

I use my hands a lot and they are showing their age and all the times

I should have used gloves but didn't.

Whether it's washing dishes, dusting, cooking, crocheting,

writing, folding clothes ... my hands often fly through the work

and I think of them as a symphony--of, well, activity!

My hands are a good indicator of the weather. As soon as the humidity

drops and the air gets drier, cracks in my thumbs show up.

I've learned two things in the last couple of years that have helped a lot.

I hate kitchen rubber gloves--seems no matter how long they are, I get water in them.

Or holes.

And lotion or vasoline at night with gloves on--can't do it.

So I've started using the same blue gloves I used as a nurse.

I keep some by the sink and try to wear them all the time when in water.

And I wear them when I'm cleaning or even folding laundry.

It protects my hands and the moisture formed inside the plastic helps!

The other tip I've learned is to use chapstick on those painful cracks.

Just pile it on especially before bed and the sting of the air on the cracks

disappears. It's a temporary solution but works for me!

We had a rare, but real live snow storm yesterday.

Everything was closed and we enjoyed a quiet day, sitting by a window 

when possible. The stillness and beauty was breathtaking.

This morning the world has a brilliance with the bright sun,

diamond-studded, though the photos don't quite show it.

Our temperatures will barely reach over 32, so melting will

occur but it could all refreeze tonight.

We are sticklers for tradition, and we almost always have

corn chowder on at least the first snow day of the year.

It's an old recipe, and we were doing this foolishness even back

when the kids were young and playing outside in their bread bag covered

sneakers and saran wrapped legs inside of jeans.

gadgetry and more

Apparently I'm not over my thrill of beautiful dishes. At a home store on this soggy morning 

these two pasta bowls were marked down to 3 each. I am guessing 

one of my attractions was because we used my birthday restaurant 

card last night on an amazing Italian restaurant 

(so I was still remembering pasta). And the blue---love that shade of blue. 

Of course the photos don't do the color justice. 

I found a dollar bill and my friend treated me to coffee 

when I expected to treat her, so I told the Gardener that 

all totaled it only cost me 3 for two.

But I made $20 more today too, so my bowls are totally free. 

I am loving the free online grocery pickup at our big box store. Oh my. It saves me probably 90 minutes.
I love, love how it works. Except today. I ordered yesterday and the 

Gardener did the pickup and I forgot to tell him I ordered a big batch of paper towels. 

They had to switch out an item. Usually that's OK but this time the switch wasn't satisfactory. So I called their 800 number wondering how to do a return and they told me to keep it and sent a refund to my credit card, as well as sending me a $5 coupon for my next shopping. About five minutes later I realized they had totally forgotten the paper towels but had charged me for them. I called again, and this time as well as the refund, I got a $15 dollar coupon with great apologies. I won't give up on them anytime soon. I know they are still working the kinks out of this new system. 

So there was my $20 profit.

I love kitchen gadgets and  I love this mini colander I found at WM. 

It fits inside or outside most cans, to drain the liquid. 

This week I found another use for it!

My sister sent me a couple of these from her grocery store. 

You squeeze and use to close the bread bag. 

Much easier than twisting the twist tie. 

But they weren't easy to find.

investments

If I could, I would stay home a lot.

I told our mentor girls that to me a wonderful day is one when I don't have to go anywhere.

Say that again? They looked at me like a deer in headlights.

I don't know if you feel the same, but I love being home.

I love feeling cozy and being surrounded by things 

that mean a lot to me.  And I'm never bored.

Forget cleaning and laundry,  I find far more interesting things to do.

1. Clean photos off my computer and phone.

2. Make some more SF photo albums.

3. My parent's "archives" have much more yet to go through and deal with.

4. Kitchen cupboards need cleaning out.

5. Files to sort through, downsizing to begin...

6. Oh, and to read a book would be wonderful.

7.  Make some cards, crochet, color a page from my coloring books, play the piano ...

You probably have similar lists.

I've read recently that the older we grow, the more

we need to get out, become involved in new things, etc. 

We know that. It makes sense.

I don't know if you're like this (I'm sure some of you are),

but I find if I have to go out, projects just don't get done that day.

I need a whole day at home to really dig in.

So when a friend suggests meeting for morning coffee;

or a young woman wants to have breakfast together;

or college students need a place to stay for a night or two;

or a sick person needs a meal; or its time to plan

for our next mentor gathering ...

I've learned to stop and consider before a quick response, but then, yes, yes, 

it's almost always "yes." Because I'm not getting any younger, and I'll

probably never have as much wisdom as I do now.

Not that I "impart" so much, mind you, but I know time is never

wasted when you spend it on others, sharing your life with them, lending them a

listening ear. Yes investing time in them. Very young or even the growing old.

The projects and hobbies can wait. 

This is time well spent.

'tis the season

I've tried to be less busy this month, preferring quiet moments.
And I haven't done any Christmas shopping in a store this year. Maybe

I should do a mall visit just for fun--but probably not.

We've enjoyed having friends in, going to a couple of parties, and most recently,

a tea party for our oldest granddaughter and some of her friends.

It was fun (at least for me.) They did consume the sweets!

Then there was the school Christmas concert. Now we have two to watch.

And a visit to school to help grandson with the blankets they were

preparing for "babies or old people." Both cutting the

fuzzy fabric and tying knots was a challenge for KG.

Thus the required adult participation,

Every grandchild has played with this creche 

more than anything else when at Grandma's during Christmas.

Just as their dad and uncle did. The Story never grows old.

The jury is still out on this pencil tree, giving our new knee and repaired back

 a break from bringing our big tree out of the "crawl in" attic space.

I'm missing some of the ornaments that didn't fit.

The grands are just happy it's not their tree!

My sister once wrote, "Everything we need in this life and the next was 

held in that Bethlehem manger 2000 years ago. Our hopes, desires, dreams, 

and above all, our need for forgiveness and fellowship with God are all 

gathered up and met in the baby born that night."

May your joy be full and complete as you celebrate His birth.

~~~~~~

simple fare

Just plain cooking--laced with a little ambience--and so we invited good friends to 

join us at the kitchen table for "supper." Perfect for a cold winter night.

I made spaghetti--a favorite of ours. And a salad. 

Our friends brought some of their holiday treats for dessert. 

Coffee--and then an old movie, based on an Irish Italian restaurant. 

You probably know it. One time when we were talking, the movie had came up and

we discovered they'd never seen it. Since we have the movie (on VHS) 

we planned the evening, and we chose the menu to go with the movie.

With a pleasant fire going in the fireplace, we cranked up the old VCR, 

passed around blankets and we were set.

An easy and fun evening.