BIG SNOW FOR CHRISTMAS?

This is a picture of the big snow of February 2010.  It is the type of snow I want for Christmas this year because it is the huge amount of snow that I remember from my childhood.  It was common to get several snow storms one after the other, each producing 6-12 inches of the white stuff.  


I remember pulling on my brother's old long johns, then a pair of corduroy pants, then thick, brown snow pants, layers of flannel shirts, sweaters or sweatshirts, and a couple of pairs of thick socks.  Then, though I could hardly bend at my waist, I put on my sneakers and pulled on the black rubber boots with the metal clasps.  The boots were not insulated by the way.  Then a scarf, hat and knitted mittens went on.  A short brown jacket with a clasp at the waist and that was it.  I was sweating from all the preparation to go outside.  But it was worth it!


With my sister and my next door neighbors, I played Fox and Hare on paths that had been stomped out into strangely configured forms where our outdoor basketball court lay under the snow.  Other activities included making huge snow balls for forts and snow people, little icy snowballs to throw at everyone within distance, sledding down one of three hills, ice skating on the town pond, shoveling snow off of our walks, feeding the birds, or just taking walks around the town to see what everyone else was doing in the snow.  


In later years I took my three young sons to McSmalltown for Christmas.  On Christmas Eve it snowed and we woke up to a snowy wonderland.  The boys were excited about their gifts, but when they received sleds, they could not wait to use them on the little hill across from Grandma's house.  Later back at our house they slid down  the famed "Killer Hill," so named because it ended in going through a patch of cane and into a shallow stream.  The trick was to get stopped before you reached the cane.  


I believe I love snow at Christmas because it feels like a new world. A happy and beautiful new world, and, indeed, Christmas does represent the coming of a new world led by Christ the newborn King!  Have a Blessed Christmas--white or green!

EASTER

As a child, Easter meant the Easter Bunny hiding eggs and bringing candy, and me wearing a beautiful new dress, coat, shoes and hat to church. What more could a little girl want?

First event was dying Easter eggs in the old farm sink. Mother had saved tin cans from fruits and veggies. She used a white enameled pan to boil the eggs. From there, the eggs were dropped into the tins which were filled with hot water, a tablet of dye from a kit, and some vinegar. It was hard for me to not keep lifting them out every few seconds with the copper wire lifter. Every time I lifted them up, I thought they were ready to be taken out because they were SO beautiful, but Mother and sister Jane insisted that they needed more time and would become even MORE beautiful in a short time. They were right, of course.

The eggs dried quickly. Then I had to decide whether to leave them plain colored like a big jewel, or stick something else on them. Usually I left them as jewels. Not every egg was dipped. I liked to just use Q-tips and paint designs on the white hard-boiled shells. The dye this time was just bottles of food coloring. Easy and fun to make! I still like to do my eggs this way.

Easter morning, I always found a hidden egg in my slipper and one in my shoe as well. Downstairs, there was always one hidden in the sugar bowl and behind the pillows on the davenport (sofa, to those who don't know what that is). Many more eggs were hidden and ready to be found all over the living room and dining room.

The Easter Bunny always filled our baskets which were on the dining room table. A chocolate cross was always there to remind us that Jesus was somehow part of this day. Of course, it took many more years before I understood the REAL significance of Easter--and that it was more important than Christmas!!

Other food that was important on this day was, of course, ham and Hot Cross Buns with a white icing cross on the top of each bun. There again, the significance came with years.

The smells I associate with Easter are vinegar (dying eggs), chocolate (Mother made home-made chocolate covered Easter eggs), ham (Sunday lunch), and hyacinths (decorating the table).

The only smell I can't get now is the hyacinths because I have a cat that eats plants and flowers. Eventually I'll get that back too.

Easter music I remember: "Here comes Peter Cottontail", "The Easter Parade", "Eggbert the Easter Egg", "Up from the grave He arose".

Going to church every Sunday morning was traditional for my family, but it was special on Easter because we only received new clothing at Christmas and Easter. Who doesn't like wearing new clothes??? And Daddy always took a picture of us in our Easter outfits!!!

I'm so happy that my family had all of these traditions. It's sad that my children and grandchildren do not want to have some of these traditions any more. I pray for them daily!

COOKBOOKS

I have a great passion for collecting and reading cookbooks. Yes, I know they are not the "normal" reading fare, but my mother had a wonderful collection and was a superb cook, and my sister, Jane, understands my addiction and collects and reads them too. It's always good to know you are not alone in your goofiness. I can always say "It's in my blood! I love cookbooks!"

My love of cookbooks probably began as a child of perhaps 10 years of age, when Mother sent me to a "Cooking School" sponsored by the local electric company. Classes were given in the home economics classroom in the high school. I still have the home-crafted booklet bound with yellow construction paper. It contained good solid recipes like Nut Luscious Cake with Peanut Butter Broiled Frosting, Barbecued Hamburgers, Quickie Pizza, Toasted Tuna Buns, Graduation Butterscotch Cookies and, of course, how to boil veggies and make mashed potatoes.

At the end of the week of cooking lessons, we were invited to create poems about cooking. I chose to create a poem about the electric company's mascot, Reddy Kilowatt. I won first prize which was a Reddy Kilowatt pin. He has a special place in my jewelry box to this day.

I had more cooking lessons with 4-H. I became adept at making fried Spam with Pineapple and frequently made it for our family. Today, I don't like Spam--I've become less accustomed to eating salty foods.

A project during my year with 4-H was to clip recipes from magazines and paste them into a small well-organized 3-ring binder. I think I finally threw it out after 30 years of no use. I do, however, enjoy reading food magazines as well as cookbooks. I rarely find any that I want to try, though because there always seems to be some wierd ingredient that I don't have in my cupboards.

Today I read recipes online as well as cookbooks. Somehow, online just isn't the same. I like those cookbooks that tell a little tale about each recipe. The recipe becomes personalized to me then. Often, too, I read the same recipe from different sources and creatively combine them into one recipe that I call "my version." I'm collecting these recipes in a file on my computer. No more using scissors and glue. I cut and paste the "easy" way. (But I think the other way is more fun!)

My fondest hope is that one of my granddaughters will enjoy reading all of my cookbooks and making my recipes some day!

Time to Hibernate

It's time to hibernate.  It is frigid outside plus the wind is blowing.  A dry snow fell during the night and it is falling from the trees and bushes with every gust of wind.  If it weren't so cold, I might go somewhere today, but...I've decided to hibernate instead.

As a child, I would hibernate in "the back room" with a pencil and tablet in hand, or a library book.  I made up stories about a little girl named Penny who solved mysteries.  I was greatly influenced by what I read...  I read all of the Bobbsey Twins books, the Big Red series (about an Irish setter), the Nancy Drew series and many other wonderful books.  My parents, especially my father, was a reader.  Mother preferred magazines and cookbooks, but my father read classics and thick novels such as those written by Michener.  When my brother brought home books from college, my father would read those too.  I eventually read them too.  When I was in second grade, I was reading Nancy Drew.  The first day of third grade, I took home my reader and completed reading it that night and was bored for the rest of the year.  By seventh grade, I was reading college level books like Animal Farm, A Nation of Sheep, The Mouse That Roared, 1984 by George Orwell , to name just a few.  

During high school, I hibernated with pen and pad also, writing more mysteries or, at least, stories that had big "twists" at the end---surprise endings were my forte.  I even wrote a novelette and dared to ask my English teacher to proof-read it for me!  She didn't...she had her student teacher do that and so neither of them ever encouraged me to write anything more.  It was a spy thriller and she was devoted to "real" literature.  The English teacher before her, on the other hand, really encouraged me to be creative and write whatever I wanted.  I thank him (Mr. Swales) for all of his encouragement!  

Later in my life, I wrote little "slices of life" for a regional magazine and really enjoyed doing that.  Life crises interfered with my creative juices for a very long time after that and I could not write anything.  Now, the ol' juices are flowing again, though not the same ones.  My desire now is to share past experiences with my children and grandchildren so they can get to "know" me.  I think that later in time, they will appreciate these blogs I'm into writing now.  They are my "legacy" so to speak.  

GOOD ADVICE:

Leave your family a legacy---Write down what God has done for you.

Leave money to your church.  

Winter is here

Winter is here.  It tried to come early December and everyone thought we would have a "White Christmas"---but we didn't.  It was cloudy and in the 50's.  

Ah-h-h-h...I remember when...it snowed frequently and every time it snowed, it mounded up at least 6 inches or more.  A foot of snow was not unusual and by the end of December, we would have 3 feet of snow in our backyard!  We made snow forts, tunnels, snowballs, snowmen, paths to play "Fox & Hare".  Our faces were ruddy red and chapped and fingers were constantly cold and wet.  Rubber boots pulled over our leather shoes.  They were uninsulated boots with metal clasps that clamped down to lock into place.  Brother's old insulated underwear was worn by us girls too because it was warm, not pretty.  Mittens were made of wool and got wet easily.  Snow would cling in little balls to the mittens.  It was as if they had glue on them and getting all the snow off was a chore.  We frequently had to stop our play to go inside to warm up by the large, long radiator where all the mittens, scarves, boots, hats and coats were laid out to dry.  They seemed to take such a long time to dry so sometimes we just put them back on damp, though warm, and ran outside for more fun in the snow.  Even shoveling was fun!  Trying to get the path perfectly straight, then tossing down birdseed or furnace ashes for traction.

Nowadays, though I live farther south, McSmalltown still doesn't get snow like "the old days."

Children are not free to roam about the neighborhood as I did as a child.  The world has become a somewhat frightening place even for adults.  But let's try to remember to at least bundle up and get outside at least once a day.  (I have to really force myself to do this now.)

Just think....FRESH AIR!  and breathe deeply when you're out there in it!

Enjoy the cold weather!!!!!

Gowns

I've only had 3 beautiful gowns in my lifetime. One was made by me to wear to a college mate's wedding. I was her bride's maid. Another gown was one I wore to the junior/senior prom in the sixties, and the other one was made of crepe paper. That was and still is my favorite.

My sister and I loved to be creative, and if you are familiar with crepe paper, you will know that it is a wonderful medium to work with when creating anything. It stretches endlessly, drapes, clings, curls, twists and moves in the most interesting ways. The choices of color are memorable too.

We thought we were the most beautiful young ladies in the world when we posed for these pictures! And weren't we just that!!!!! We even made our hair curls with bobby pins. Bobby pin curls were the tightest and best.

I wonder if little girls today would do this? Or if they would have to have "store bought" play dresses in order to be "pretty"? I think today's children miss out on using their imaginations when they play. They seem to need to be "entertained" by gadgets and everything store bought. What a shame!

Wild Turkeys

My father loved to take rides in the country and, though I got car sick when I was very little, I enjoyed these rides when I was older. He would take "the long way" to the farm where we bought fresh eggs straight from the farmer's wife. I loved to visit her because the family had a very large and friendly black Labrador dog.

One fall day as we neared the farm, my father suddenly halted the car. Now it must be said that we were on a back road that was sparsely used, so we were perfectly safe in doing this. His sharp, experienced eyes had spotted something in the field--Wild Turkeys--a whole flock of them were eating in a "shaved" corn field. I watched from a hundred feet away as they strutted and pecked their way along the edge of the field. My father told me that I should be happy to see this because people who were not hunters usually did not see these birds. Turkeys have very keen hearing and eyesight, but we were sufficiently far enough away and so we watched for as long as we wanted. But, we had to get eggs and so we reluctantly drove on down the road to our destination.

I never saw another wild turkey until my husband and I took my mother for a drive in lower Lancaster County and happened upon a flock of wild turkeys who thought they owned the road. Evidently, the whole neighborhood was feeding these birds and they refused to budge until we honked at them. Then, the old Tom turkey took offense and attacked our car! Windows were rolled up quickly! That was an exciting adventure for all of us!

Yesterday, I had another exciting "turkey adventure"-- in my backyard! In the 32 years that I lived in the Boro, I had never seen a wild turkey. The good Lord urged me to raise my head to look out the kitchen window and into the back yard and there was the most beautiful wild turkey, a hen, grazing in our long grassy lawn She was strutting boldly back and forth, stopping only to peck at something in the grass occasionally. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and my chin remained on the floor. As she strutted out of my line of site, I grabbed my camera and ran to the bedroom window where she continued to strut and graze contentedly. Then, as I moved to take her picture, she looked at me. The camera failed. I became frustrated and the turkey decided she had better take cover and ran to crouch behind a small patch of mint growing beside the cellar doors. She popped her head up to look at me warily, then slowly decided that I was no threat and came out in the open again to feed. I gave up on taking her picture and just enjoyed the magnificent bird that the Lord chose to show me this beautiful fall day. When she finally disappeared into the long weeds and grasses that grew down the hill to the creek, I thanked God for his wondrous world and beautiful animals. It is doubtful that I will ever see a wild turkey in my yard again. I will treasure those few moments forever!