Posts Categorized: Love

And . . . It’s November

| Kindness, Love, Patience, Peace

June was all right. July was hot. August was hotter. September wasn’t much better. October hurried by and now it’s November, and I’m a little startled.

We’re still a little bit behind on average rainfall, but we’ve so made up for most of the deficit. We finally had a few sunny days, and then, with no warning that I got, Thursday turned dark and nasty.

I’d gone to the grocery store, sort of at the last minute, for Halloween treats. And, for me, those treats are apples. I certainly love candy and would eat it every day if I could. Junior Mints for breakfast, M&Ms for lunch, and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for dinner. If I could.

And Snickers and Mars Bars and Hershey Bars. And Butterfingers.

Yes, there’s a plate of goodies, but Kevin’s eating his apple.

But several years ago, I started handing out apples. Years ago, when Kevin was two, I took him to a family Halloween party. There were apples on the table, and every kid got one. Kevin cradled it with love. He’d never had a whole entire apple, all his own. I’ve seen the same thing with other kids; that “This is my apple and you stay away from it!” sort of attitude. So, I get apples.

Thursday morning was really dark. Heavy clouds. And then, mid-morning, pouring rain. Rain, and rain, and more rain. Then, in the afternoon, it kept on raining. Still, I opened the bags of apples and piled them into a basket and set it near the door. I turned on the outside lights. And had low expectations.

No kids live on our block or the next one up. I don’t see many kids in the neighborhood, despite the fact that there’s an elementary school at the end of the block. But, I don’t begrudge the groups of children that walk around, or are driven around, looking for houses with their lights on.

No one rang the doorbell until after 8:00. In the street, there were several parked cars with lights on. A caravan of sorts, I think, of families who were out searching for goodies. When I opened the door, there were ten or twelve kids, with their parents standing behind them. They said, “Trick or Treat!” (The littlest ones needed some prompting.)

“Happy Halloween,” I said, and held out my basket.

“Apples!” said the littlest ones, who were standing closest, and they reached in for their fruit.

“Apples?” said the older kids, as they pulled apples from the basket, just as happily.

“Thank you,” said a mom. “You are my favorite house!”

Nobody looked unhappy. And why would they, they already had loads of candy. Along with their shiny apple that was all their own.

The next, much smaller group came about a half hour later. They were just as happy with apples as the others.  And, that was it for the evening.

Only once, many years ago, two houses ago, did I have a grumpy Trick-or-Treater. The doorbell rang, I opened the door, and held out the basket with apples inside. The boy leaned over and stared down into the basket. He looked up at me and said, rather unkindly, “I don’t want an apple.”

I said, “Too bad. That’s all I’ve got.” He turned away, and walked back down the sidewalk, where his dad (I presume) was standing. When he got to the end of the sidewalk, his dad said, “What did you say to her!?!”

I closed the door, smiling just a little, hoping the kid was going to get some sort of instruction about grateful hearts and being kind and thankful for gifts that are freely given.

 

Yes, God will give you much so that you can give away much, and when we take your gifts to those who need them they will break out into thanksgiving and praise to God for your help.

2 Corinthians 9:11 (The Living Bible)

 

 

The Sunday after Halloween, I usually take the basket with the remaining apples to church, to preschool Sunday School. I peel and core the apples, and the children, using nice, safe knives, cut them up (into varying sized pieces, some rather large and some minuscule). Then, we put them into an electric skillet (in an out-of-the way place) and cook them. Then we squash them with a potato masher and have yummy homemade applesauce. We are thankful.

Olio

| Joy, Love, Patience

The definitions of olio are:

1) a miscellaneous collection of things.

2) a variety act or show.

I’m thinking of it as the collection of things from the past week.

Peter came. There were the regular events, like Thursday night at the Mayborn Museum and a trip to Kiddieland, for the train ride and the other, carnival-type rides. There were special things, like the ScienceFest activities at the annual Arts Festival in downtown (a much-appreciated activity, as the Mayborn Museum was closed on Saturday, because there was a Baylor home football game, and they close the museum so the parking lot will be available for football goers).

 

In un-Peter-related stuff:

A couple of weeks ago, I worked in the very back part of the yard, cleaning up and raking, getting ready for the newest crop of fallen leaf piles, which will be added to the compost. Something small and vicious lives out there. I was scratching my left arm when I came back into the house. By nighttime, there were several spots that needed anti-itch cream. I woke up in the night from a dream that I was covered in big round bites, and I was busily scratching my arm (for real, not just in my dream). I needed a minute to remember why I felt so itchy, and got up and added more cream.

We had a torrential rain on Tuesday. I was headed home from my volunteer day at Book Club at West Avenue Elementary, and I was actually afraid. I couldn’t see the lines on the road. We were all creeping along. When I turned from the main thoroughfare onto the side street to go home, water gushed over my fender. EEEKK!! But, I did get home fine. And stayed there. It came and went all afternoon.

 

 

Let your heart overflow with praise to the True God of heaven,  for His faithful love lasts forever.

Psalm 136:25 (The Voice)

Praise God in heaven! God’s love never fails.

Psalm 136:26 (Contemporary English Version)

Oh, give thanks to the God of heaven, for his loving-kindness continues forever. 

Psalm 136:26 (The Living Bible)

Oh, give thanks to the God of heaven! For His mercy endures forever.

Psalm 136:26 (New King James Version)

O give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures forever.

Psalm 136:26 (New Revised Standard Version)

 

I couldn’t make up my mind.

 

I Haven’t Counted Them and I’m Not Going To

| Faithfulness, Goodness, Joy, Kindness, Love, Patience

I mentioned  before that David’s mother passed away in July. In the weeks and months before that, David and his five siblings began to decide how to divvy up a big household’s worth of belongings. There was furniture and dishes and silverware and books and jewelry and clothes and a big assortment of all sorts of stuff. There were things that several folks wanted and things that NO ONE wanted.

David went back again a couple of weeks ago. He brought home his parents’ college yearbooks and some documents and photographs. He packed up a nice sewing machine that his aunt in Memphis thought would be nice to have. He left it at her house on his way back home. And, he brought home some yarn.

A couple of David’s sisters, who live in the area, worked (and worked and worked and worked) to organize the house’s material goods. There were a lot of bags of clothing that went to helping agencies in the area. They bagged up pieces of jewelry that no one had already asked for (each sibling is supposed to take a bag, to dispose of how they wish). And they bagged up some yarn.

If you don’t participate in the yarn-based arts (knitting, crocheting, weaving), then you don’t quite understand what yarn workers are like. And what yarn workers do like. We like yarn. We might purchase some yarn that is perfect for a new project. We also might purchase some yarn that we just like, even though we don’t necessarily know what we might use it for. Or when we might use it. Some of you might suggest that we could have an obsession with yarn. We do not plan to pay attention to you.

David didn’t want very much from his parents’ house. We have a house with plenty of furniture. We have dishes and pots and pans and lamps. I don’t wear much jewelry (David did bring home the required bag of jewelry, and I have offered it up to some friends. Some of it is going to church for the preschoolers to pretend with.) I did bring home, when we were there in July, a few small Corning Ware pans. I already had a couple and they’re pretty useful. Beyond that, we didn’t collect very much. But, before he left for his most recent trip, I said, “Bring yarn.”

My sisters-in-law said that they unearthed LOTS of yarn. I think there were 60 white trash bags full of yarn. Seriously.

I belong to a knitting/crocheting group that is very helping-oriented. They create items to make chemotherapy patients comfortable, they make shawls and lap afghans for people in nursing homes, they craft handmade hats for children in a low-income child development center in town, they knit and crochet items for homeless folks. These are yarn workers on a mission.

So, I said, “Bring yarn.” He was able to pile 20 bags in the car. Here’s what 20 bags of yarn looks like:

Actually, there’s quite a bit missing. I invited a yarn-desirous friend over a few days ago. She carefully went through several bags and took a couple of bags’ worth home. I’m pretty confident that I’ll be able to find loving homes for all the skeins. It may take a few weeks; there’s a limit to how much I can transport to the knitting/crocheting folks at a time.

Some of the yarn won’t really work well for places where the hats, shawls, etc. will need to be machine washed and dried. My mother-in-law purchased some really nice, quality yarns, like wools and cottons whose care tags read: “hand wash and lie flat to dry.” But, I think there will be enough to go around for whomever and whatever and however. I might even keep some for myself.

 

She opens her hand to the poor,
    and reaches out her hands to the needy.

Proverbs 31:20 (New Revised Standard Version)

Not all the members of my yarn group are “shes.” But they are all pretty much on board with that helping and reaching out business.

 

Housework

| Faithfulness, Love, Patience

The company started leaving last Friday. Peter was with me as I was doing post-guest cleaning and getting the house back to its regular self. Putting stuff away, like dishes and napkins. Going through the fridge and tossing the tiny bits of leftovers that got stored and saved. Laundering the towels, which mostly got folded up and stored in bins in the linen closet, waiting for the next guests. And washing the sheets, which got put back on the beds. Before the guests came, I also laundered the mattress pads and pillow protectors when getting the clean sheets on the day bed and trundle ready for guests. When I removed the sheets and pillow cases from the guest room bed, post guests, I thought, Hmmm. I should wash this mattress pad and pillow protectors, too.

That load was a washer-full, and I gathered up the pad and pillow cases and protectors and put them in the dryer by themselves, so there’d be enough space. Later, when I went back out to the laundry room to retrieve them and put the sheets in, I discovered that I’d put the big ol’ mattress pad in first, and then added the pillow protectors and cases. The mattress pad had rotated itself around and around in the dryer, trapping the pillow cases and protectors against the dryer door. They weren’t sopping wet, but they were damp. Really damp.

I carried them to the guest room which is also where I sew, and iron. I put up the ironing board (with its lovely new ironing board cover) and plugged in the iron. And spent the next few minutes doing the same thing I had done when I was nine or ten years old and learning to iron. Ironing pillowcases. JoAnne remembers doing that, too–our mom handing down her “taking care of the house” skill set.

A couple of the pillowcases were 100% cotton. One was really damp and ironed up easily and all and starchy-ish. The other one had dried completely and was badly wrinkled (as 100% cotton things sometimes are, especially those that are really old and don’t have the tiniest bit of man-made fibers in them). This one should be sprinkled, I thought.

And when the weather was rainy …

I didn’t actually sprinkle the wrinkled pillowcase. (I really did once have one of those sprinkler tops. I got it in a collection of gadgets and things that were a wedding gift. I haven’t seen it in years.) But I do have, in the sewing room closet, a spray bottle with rose-scented water in it. When things need ironing, I spray the wrinkles, and then iron them. It seems to work as well. And smells good.

Do your work willingly, as though you were serving the Lord himself, and not just your earthly master.

Colossians 3:23 (Contemporary English Version)

I’m going to try to remember that, next time I’m cleaning the bathrooms. Or cleaning up the kitchen. Or pulling weeds. And all the other things …

 

In a completely unrelated issue, here are photos from July 6, when Peter and the little boy next door made chalk pathways, and from August 5, when I was explaining to Peter how I knew it hadn’t rained at all here.

Late this afternoon, rain poured. There was lightning, and thunder. There is not a speck of chalk dust on the porch, the sidewalk, nor the driveway. Peter’s idea was that, if it did rain, he and Ford should chalk things up again, so we can continue to keep a running record of the un-rainfall rate around here.

Company’s Come! (Part 2)

| Faithfulness, Joy, Love

Sunday morning, I dropped Natalie at the Shipley’s donut place across the street from Antioch church, where she attended while she was at Baylor. After Sunday School with preschoolers, I went back to the Shipley’s, where Natalie was waiting, after the Antioch first service was over. Then we picked up JoAnne for a trip to Fort Worth to visit Kevin, April, and Peter. A nice visit, fun games, ate a soup and sandwich dinner, then took April with us to Dallas to visit our cousin Suzy.

 

On the way to Suzy’s, I had my phone’s maps on, so we could get quick directions. I plugged in my phone, to recharge the battery. The phone’s instructions came through the car’s audio system, as did the music I had on my phone. They fiddled with the system, trying to get the driving directions exclusively. So, three ladies with suggestions, some music, and me, uncertain about the route. They persevered, and we arrived just fine (after a small detour when I did not “turn at the second exit from the roundabout,” but instead, turned at the first exit from the roundabout).

JoAnne and Natalie hadn’t seen Suzy in years! We chatted and caught up, and slept soundly in comfortable beds.

Monday-Got up for breakfast, and chatted on and on until a late lunch, and chatted on and on until 2:00 or so. And, in there somewhere, Natalie and April took my phone out to my car and enabled the Bluetooth, which (of course) means that the music will stop when the phone gives me driving instructions.

When those younger girls were getting some information from Siri on their phones Suzy was interested, and they worked to help her get the Siri function enabled on her phone. Two or three times, Suzy went through the steps, all the way to completion. Then, when she said, “Hey, Siri,” Siri immediately popped up, ready to help … on JoAnne’s phone. They needed a few more attempts to be successful.

The newly installed Bluetooth worked wonderfully well; we got ourselves back to Fort Worth effortlessly (pretty much). And then on back to Waco.

A box for what to keep, what to toss, what to forward to our cousins, whose dads had written, too.

Girls’ Night Out at the Movies. We went to see Ocean’s 8.

More letter-reading. (See last week’s blog.)

Natalie’s friend Hillary has come to Antioch Church for a training event. She’s staying here, too.

Tuesday-More letters. Some shopping. Some Bush’s fried chicken tenders. More letters.

 

Wednesday-After so very many days of scorching heat, this morning is really nice. Ninety-five in the afternoon, but after three-digit numbers the past many days, it seems, well, not exactly nice. But “not-quite-so-bad.”

I’ve hit a letter-reading wall. There’s so much emotion, so much anxiety. I’m having to take a break.

Childhood friend, Debbie, came over to visit. She said, “It’s just like it used to be.” (She’s sort of right.) “It even smells the same.” It is the house where she came to visit and play and spend the night with JoAnne. And maybe it does smell somewhat the same. But Daddy stopped pipe smoking in 1976. Maybe there’s a little bit of lingering pipe smoke smell. Personally, I don’t notice it. But she did say that it was just the same, but the garage door was down.

For all my growing up years, we did keep the garage door open. When Daddy went to work each morning, he lifted the garage door and it stayed up until late evening, when he was closing up the house for the night. When we moved in, twelve years ago, I kept up the habit, lowering the door when I left the house, but keeping it open when I was home. It just seems friendlier. When we were kids, all the garage doors stayed open, and that’s how we went in and out and knocked on the kitchen doors, looking for friends to play with. Recently, there have been several car break-ins in the neighborhood. A neighbor warned me that somebody could come in the garage while it was open, and hide (which is perfectly possible) and, when I left the garage and lowered the door, that thief could easily get into the house and ransack it. So, I’ve started keeping the garage door down all the time. When I remember to. And Debbie found it unusual. And somewhat wrong.

 

We went to the James Avery jewelry store and to the Bundt Cake store. Kevin and Peter arrived. Kevin, Hillary, and team Natalie/Peter played a rousing game of Survive, a family favorite that Natalie remembers playing at our house when she was a little girl. I went to bed really early. Later, they went to Target for more games to play. I slept through all that.

 

Thursday-Trying to tie up loose ends, finish up, squeeze out all the love and joy and fun.

 

 

And because we haven’t had enough company, another of Natalie’s friends who in Waco for the Antioch Church training. Her name is Robin.

 

Friday morning, they’ll be getting into a rental car. Kevin will be leaving, too, for the Bell County Comic Con. Peter and I will be somewhat lonesome. Maybe we’ll make some cookies.

 

 

 

People who don’t take care of their relatives, and especially their own families, have given up their faith. They are worse than someone who doesn’t have faith in the Lord.

Timothy 5:8 (Contemporary English Version)

 

There are lots of ways to take care of family, our biological folks, and our faith family. We often think first of the financial and physical needs. Emotional needs are important, too. Working, playing, and laughing together feed us significantly, in ways that are sometimes as, or more, important than a healthy meal. Doing those things with family and friends also makes us all healthier.

Company’s Come!

| Joy, Love

My sister JoAnne and my niece Natalie arrived earlier this week for a visit. I picked them up at DFW on Wednesday, early afternoon. Flight on time, bags arrived. Then we made a stop to take some family photos to one of David’s nieces and her husband, who told us the story of how, yes, he did, indeed, deliver his newest son, in their car in the hospital parking lot! What a guy!

Then, after a stop at In-and-Out Burger, a nice safe trip back to Waco. I didn’t realize how long it had been since they’d been here. JoAnne kept saying things like, “Oh, look, your new countertops” (2013), and “Oh, you moved the treadmill in here!” (also 2013). And that sort of thing. And, a good night’s rest.

It’s been several years since Natalie lived here and ‘way more years since JoAnne lived here (even though she’s visited), but there’ve been lots of changes, including the new way that we’re sort of famous now. (Yes, we’ve been famous for lots of things in the recent past, but we don’t need to go there, do we.)

JoAnne and Natalie playing a “Connect Four” type game while we’re waiting for our turn to have breakfast.

So, yesterday morning, off to the be part of the Magnolia phenomenon. First-Magnolia Table. Not too long a wait. Delicious breakfast. Delightful waitress (who actually had attended, for one year, the same elementary school where JoAnne and I went).

 

 

Then, on to the Silos. No problem parking, not too crowded in the store. It is summer in Central Texas, so we didn’t spend much time enjoying the outdoor fun stuff there. And, for the next month, Thursdays-Saturdays, the original Magnolia store is open, selling “last chance and slightly damaged” items at a discount. So we went there, too.

Natalie and I were a little confused by this. Is Abraham Lincoln trying to convince Civil War contemporaries that they should be partying like Revolutionary-era folks?

 

 

We visited a shopping area in a downtown warehouse, where many small shops have space for selling a wide variety of interesting, modern, antique, decorative, and functional things. We drove around the Baylor area and looked at all the new buildings now siting on the sites of places where Natalie shopped (the old HEB grocery store) and lived.

 

We went to Lowe’s and to Target, looking for a new coiled hose for me. As we were walking into Target, I said, “Did we eat lunch?” Hmmm. I guess we didn’t. So, after Target, we went to Schmaltz’s Sandwich Shop, a long time favorite of the family. JoAnne did mention that, when she was looking up how to spell it, she discovered that “Schmaltz” means “rendered chicken fat.” “Do you suppose they know?” she asked, while we were eating our yummy sandwiches that do not seem to have any rendered chicken fat in them. “I suppose if it was that easy for you to discover, that many other diners have discovered it, also. And probably have felt like they should know,” I said. “But I don’t know that we should want to chat with them about it.”

We went to the second-hand book store next to the sandwich shop, bought some books, and came home.

One of the tasks we hope to complete/reach a half-way point/at least get started on, is to go through some boxes and bags of our parents’ memorabilia (letters, photos, documents) and determine what can be discarded, what should be kept, and what we’re individually willing to deal with. It could take a while.

 

My child, obey the teachings
    of your parents,

and wear their teachings
as you would a lovely hat
    or a pretty necklace.

Proverbs 1:8-9 (Contemporary English Version)

 

I don’t know how much ground we’ll cover. Maybe we’ll find some interesting, unknown, unusual things. Maybe we’ll see our parents in a new light. Probably we’ll find the same sorts of things, attitudes, and ideas with which we’re already pretty familiar. As JoAnne often says, “It’ll be an adventure.”

We’d Made a Plan

| Love, Peace

So much for plans.

After all the July 4th-ing, Kevin and April and Jeremy went back to Fort Worth to have a business meeting for the small business they own. Jeremy was due to fly back to New York on Saturday afternoon. Peter stayed here and I was going to take him back to Fort Worth Monday morning.  Saturday morning, the phone rang and woke me up. It was David’s sister with news that his mom had passed away at about 5:00 a.m. I told her David and Peter had left the house already, to go have breakfast, as is their Saturday morning custom. I hadn’t actually looked at a phone to see what time it was, and as I was talking with her, Peter walked by the door (it was earlier than I thought). “You’re still here,” I said perplexed. “Where’s Grandad?” Grandad was just walking out of the bathroom, so I handed over the phone. Then, we began to make new plans.

David and Peter did go to breakfast, then to David’s work to get some things organized. Then they went to the Mayborn Museum for a while, then lunch at Wendy’s, then back home. We moved the car seat from my car to David’s, then they went to get the oil changed (a task David had planned for Monday). Then, back to David’s work, then back to the Mayborn. Then, back home. I did laundry.

Sunday was a regular Sunday for us, and I did Peter’s laundry in the evening, and packed. We left at 7:00 a.m. Monday and took Peter back to Fort Worth, dropped off the car seat, and picked up Jeremy. At some place we got gas Monday, a car next to us pulled out. I heard a “crunch” and looked over to see two squashed drink cans on the asphalt. Along with a plastic drink bottle. “Wait!” I said, and got out the retrieve them. David and Jeremy were a little incredulous. “Frances has a great recycle bin,” I said, and in Memphis, I added those things along with a few magazines I had finished reading.

 

We drove to Memphis and spent the night with David’s Aunt Frances, who went on to Tennessee with us. We checked into a hotel, the guys went to a grocery store, and brought back some dinner for me and Frances, then they went to Knoxville to get Kevin (whose plane kept getting delayed) from the airport.

Jeremy had gone shopping Saturday and bought a shirt and slacks. He asked for a “grayish, blackish tie” from David’s assortment. I chose five for him to choose from, but he ended up using one of Kevin’s. We went to the funeral home Saturday morning for the visitation and then the service. Then, a trip to the cemetery for the internment, then to her church for lunch. Then, Frances and I back to the hotel and David to the airport with the boys. A busy few days.

Outside the church–the Lintz men, in their blue-and-white-striped shirts and their white funeral programs in their pockets. What a trio.

 

 

 

Later that evening, most of us got together at a sister-in-law’s house. At some point, someone said, “Those flowers that Jeremy’s church sent was one of the prettiest arrangements there.” And I said, “Jeremy’s church sent flowers?”

Years ago, my mother-in-law began asking family members what they might like to have from her home. David wanted a grandfather clock. Kevin wanted the hammered dulcimer. A couple of years ago, when we’d gone to Tennessee to visit, I went from there to a family wedding in Baltimore, then on to New York to visit Jeremy and Sarah. With the extra space in the car and trunk, David was able to pull down the rear seat backs and extend the trunk’s size. The clock fit perfectly. We brought the dulcimer home with us last week.  A lap dulcimer (or mountain dulcimer) is a strummed and this is how it’s played.   A hammered dulcimer is played by striking the strings with wooden “hammers” and is played like this.

 

Because of our faith, we know that the world was made at God’s command. We also know that what can be seen was made out of what cannot be seen.

Hebrews 11:3 (Contemporary English Version)

So many wonderful things God created; I suppose we all have our own list of “favorites.” Music and flowers and family are some of mine.

She’s a Grand Old Flag, She’s a Good-Tasting Flag

| Joy, Love, Patience

I try to continue the family tradition of having a Flag cake for Fourth of July celebrations. I keep trying out new ideas, often coming up with things which bear just a tiny bit of discernible American flag.

When I make a regular, full-sized cake, there’s lots of cake leftovers. To circumvent that, I thought maybe a rolled cake might give everyone a piece of flag-themed cake and a few extra pieces. And, I had an idea. Not necessarily a good idea, but an idea.

I thought I could bake a very shallow white layer and cut out star shapes from it. Then, I could put the white stars on a jelly roll pan and make a blue jelly roll batter to pour over the stars and then bake that. The resulting jelly roll cake would be blue with cute white stars, and then I could color some Cool Whip red and put red and white Cool Whip in the roll. Sounds easy, right?

I found a jelly roll recipe in my big cookbook. Then, I looked online for ideas, too. I found a recipe for a striped cake, that had a white cake batter divided into several different bowls and dyed into bright colors. Then, the instructions said to pipe diagonal stripes across a prepared baking pan. Baked and rolled around a filling and then sliced, it made a lively cake roll. And I thought, “Well, I could put the white stars down and pour blue batter over them, on half a pan, and then pipe red and white stripes down the other side, and then wouldn’t that be cute!” I also found a couple of YouTube videos which were even more informative. One baker showed how to make a template with shapes (she used hearts), which she put underneath a piece of waxed paper. She piped cute pink hearts of batter onto the template shapes, put the pan in the freezer, and, when the shapes were frozen, she removed the template, poured a chocolate batter over the hearts, baked it, and, ta-dah!! the cake had cute pink hearts baked into it.

Oh, yeah. I can do that!

I found some star outlines online, made a template, and mixed up a batch of batter. I made my white stars and put the pan in the freezer. It took FOREVER for them to freeze. I put the rest of the batter into the fridge. Several hours later, the star shapes were finally frozen. And by then, I should really have made a new batch of batter, but that seemed wasteful, and really, what difference would it make. (Lots, in case you wondered.) I colored half of the remaining batter blue, one fourth of the batter red, and left the other fourth white. I spread the blue batter across half the pan, over the stars; it was pretty thin. I tried piping red and white stripes across the other side. It was runny. I baked it all (and the pan was rather warped). It was a disaster, but the white stars showed up really well. I threw it all out. That was Wednesday.

Thursday, I watched the video again, and realized that the baker had made a separate, small batch of batter for the hearts. And froze that. So, I followed that recipe and made my white stars. And they froze up really quickly. Then, I used her cake batter recipe, too. The recipe said that flour could be substituted for the cocoa in the original recipe, if one didn’t want a chocolate cake. I did substitute flour, and colored all that batter blue (giving up on the idea of red and white stripes, opting for red and white Cool Whip instead). I followed the recipe carefully, poured the blue batter over the white stars, and put it in to bake. It looked all right after it had baked. The blue batter had gotten under the edges of the stars a little, but things seemed all right. I rolled up the baked cake (as instructed) and let it cool. Then, I unrolled it to get it ready to fill. The edges were a little stiff (which happens to those kinds of cakes) and, as suggested, I trimmed those edges off. I tasted those cut off edges and they were HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE. Dry, chewy (not in a good way), and just awful. So, for the second day in a row, I threw out a cake.

Friday, I made the small recipe, put white star shapes on waxed paper to freeze, and then made the original jelly roll cake recipe from the big cookbook, colored the batter blue, and poured it over the white stars. It baked up quite nicely, and, when I tasted the trimmed off edges, they tasted fine. The white stars show up great! After the rolled up cake had cooled, I unrolled it and got out the Cool Whip. Fortunately, I had had enough blue food coloring to tint all the batters I had made. I had used up some red coloring on Cake #1. I had a larger bottle of red coloring, but I chose a smaller, plastic container, thinking it looked like enough for the Cool Whip. I removed the RED lid from the container and squeezed a good amount into some of the Cool Whip. I began to stir it up, and, OllieMollieGollie!!! It was PURPLE! So, I had to dump that out!

Fortunately, there was that bottle of red coloring (which I carefully tried out on a small spoonful of Cool Whip first). So, finally after three days of trying to get a cake made, I finally had one.

As I dropped the large, very, very heavy trash bag into the big trash bin Friday afternoon, I was really sad and frustrated to realize that I had not photographed any of the epic cake fails. You’ll just have to imagine them on your own.

Here’s this year’s photo of Kevin and Jeremy in their “traditional” photo pose and you can also see what this year’s final (finally) cake looked like. We ate almost all of it up. As I write this, there’s one piece left in the fridge. By time you read this, it’ll be gone (I hope).

 

 

I’ve also mentioned another tradition, begun by my Ohio grandmother, when the strawberries ripened early in the summer. Strawberry shortcake for dinner.

My sister and I often make it these days, on July 4th. After all those lunchtime burgers and hot dogs and flag cake and ice cream, and whatever snacking might go on during the day, strawberry shortcake makes a nice evening meal. After the company arrived (Kevin and Jeremy and April and Peter), on Tuesday, I made my last trip to the grocery store and added a quart of strawberries to my cart. Wednesday, after cleaning up from the lunchtime meal, I washed and sliced the strawberries and added enough sugar “to make them weep” (my grandmother’s directive). Early evening (well, as it’s summertime, it’s more like late afternoon) I got out the new box of Bisquick to make the shortcakes.

Memorize his laws and tell them to your children over and over again. Talk about them all the time, whether you’re at home or walking along the road or going to bed at night, or getting up in the morning.

Deuteronomy 6:6-7 (Contemporary English Version)

How we behave as Kingdom people and lovers of the Lord is often wrapped up in the minutes and hours of ordinary days. How we behave on special days, like holidays and holy days, should be an exact reflection of our behavior on those ordinary days. We are the examples of God’s love and care. Or the lack of those things.

I Didn’t Realize I’d Need That

| Love

In 1953, as part of the post-WWII Baby Boom, and resulting need for more and larger housing, my parents built a house. We’d been living in a duplex that had two good-sized rooms and a bathroom and a kitchen. I shared the bedroom with my parents. They built a house in a new development; it had a big living room, a nice-sized kitchen (it accommodated a table and chairs, where we ate all our meals, and a washing machine, in addition to the usual stove and fridge and cabinets), a bathroom, and THREE bedrooms. And it had an attached garage.

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I’ve Heard that Nature Abhors a Vacuum*

| Joy, Love, Patience

I worked in my yard the first couple of weeks in May. Then, I got sick. Not horribly. But, a cold that refused to run its course. Then, I had to prepare for, and teach, Fun with Friends. Peter was here, too, and went back to Fort Worth last Sunday. On Monday, I put on my gardening gloves and went to check things out.

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