Wednesday, June 20, 2012

A Few Clowns Short of a Circus...

When your daughter hits a home run on the ball field, you quickly upload a video and share it with the world. When another daughter, your oldest daughter in fact, plays a "home run" her performance should also be shared...it's only right...



Meg's Grandma was so thrilled about her recital performance, that upon returning home, she ordered for her oldest granddaughter something for which Meg had been longing...

Face. Paint.

How very, very quickly the UPS man arrived with the package in which four sets of face paints were placed.

Oh Grandma. Thanks so awfully much...


...for all of that paint.

Meg was looking forward to following the directions and turning Molly into a puppy or a clown or a butterfly, but...

...nothin' doin'...


"See! I can do it mythelf!"

Boy could she!

 Just a bit here...


...and some highlights here...


"Now! Take my picture!"


Then she found some more real estate...


...right there,

...and maybe just fill in...


...here on the cheek bone area...


At lunchtime, we cleaned her up a bit...
a very little bit, so that her pillow wouldn't suffer at nap time. 

Thwarted by Molly, Meg gained permission to use Kate as her canvas...

and then she turned her face paint back toward her very own self later in the evening...



Molly, not to be outdone, decided to have one more go at this whole color-your-face event and we were all surprised at what a fine job she did...

...but perhaps, none of us was more surprised than she...


Eat your heart out Barnum & Bailey!

“A clown is like aspirin, only he works twice as fast” 
~Groucho Marx~

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Sometimes, It's the Little Things...

I remember lots of big moments during my 'growing up days': a big vacation to Hawaii, getting out of school a week early to take another big vacation to Florida, a two week mission trip to an indian reservation in Arizona, learning to drive, shopping for prom dresses, going away to college, and shopping for a wedding dress.

The"big moments" in our lives serve as anchors to the other less Capital Letter events that float around in our personal histories.

Those very lower case events in life also leave very large marks. Little things that can happen for no reason, with no forethought, and quite by accident tend to gain larger meaning as memory's light shines on them.

...Like when my Dad was walking me down the aisle and slowed me down a bit halfway to the front,

...or when my Mom and I talked using a homemade sign language throughout an entire speech competition when I was on the stage and she in the audience,

...my Mom laughing it off when she dropped by my Jr. High to find me in detention for chewing gum,

...and my Dad trying his best to explain assets, liability, and capital to me during a car ride to my grandparents'.

Sometimes, it's the little things.

These days, I'm not just thinking about my own small moments memories.

I'm thinking about the little moments that my children are tucking away during their 'growing up' days.

I have ideas of what some of the moments might be right now, but I'm probably wrong. They'll likely remember things I've never even considered the slightest bit remarkable.

It's already happening, the conversations that begin, "Mom (Dad) do you remember when I...and you...and we...?" Often, I have absolutely no recollection. How could I forget, I was there for goodness sake, at least that's what the kids have told me!

Oh but they do remember. Just like I did. Just like their children will.

Something happened last Saturday night that just might make it to the "little things" hall of fame. It reminded me of something I'd read by Dr. Dobson...


"I urge all parents, but especially fathers, to work at building your daughter's self-concept throughout her childhood...



Tell her she is pretty every chance you get.


Hug her.


Compliment her admirable traits.


Build her confidence by giving her your time and attention. 


 Defend her when she is struggling.

And let her know that she has a place in your heart that is reserved only for her. 
She will never forget it. "

"Hey, remember when Dad polished our toenails and fingernails that one Saturday night. Remember? He said he thought it might help us get out the door to church a little easier the next morning...Remember? He said he was out of practice from when he used to polish Meg's toes when she was little and he went back and touched up the messes with a Q-tip? Oh c'mon you've got to remember that!"


{ Happy  Father's  Day!! }


{other Father-themed posts...}

Resources:
Bringing Up Girls by Dr. James C. Dobson more info here
(quote from page 21}

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

When You Are the Only Boy

When you are the only boy in a house full of women, you find any spot where you can to get a minute's peace to relax with a good book. 

It's a tough job being the older brother of three sisters, keeping them in line, keeping them out of your room and out of your stuff. Sisters don't get excited over baseball statistics or basketball scores. Sisters do scream for you every time there's a bug or a gooey mess to take care of. Sisters seem completely unable to realize that they, too, possess the ability to take the garbage out. Sisters also do NOT understand the importance of finishing a game whether it be checkers or whiffle ball or Monopoly. Really! Why play if you're not gonna finish?

SISTERS!!

But sometimes...when you want to discuss that good book...a sister is a handy thing to have nearby...


 ...sisters do know how to converse.


There are times (especially if you are a teenaged boy) when you need a bite to eat...and a sister just might appear with a snack. Happily, sisters do know how to share.


 There may also be a time when you just need to feel important.


How wonderful would it be for a sister to walk by with an urgent need?


Sisters,
...especially baby sisters...

...know how to make heroes out of brothers.


Sisters...know how to find your quiet, peaceful place and fill it up...full.


I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.
~Maya Angelou 

Monday, June 11, 2012

The Children Have Moved Out

My children have moved out.

The house is quiet.

There are times when I've wondered, with both sadness and anticipation, what our home will be like after the children have moved out. I'm not claiming to know the answer to that question as yet, it has only been a day or two since their leaving.

The silence is both refreshing and uncomfortable. It seems the kind of silence one nurtures while a baby is sleeping--so thankful for the peaceful respite but held captive by the stillness lest the baby is awakened...except that there is no baby here any longer. She is almost four and has come home to nap in my bed for a bit before returning to her new abode.


In their new home, the children seem to exist in a more perfect harmony with one another. Their collective imagination is in a higher gear there too...where they live now. I'd even imagine that those cookies they're eating taste better in their new place than they did at my kitchen counter.

Their new home holds qualities with which my own home cannot compete:

adventure, a hefty sense of accomplishment (they built it themselves), 

splendid views, 

clean fresh air, 

that pink(ish) bedroom the girls have always wanted, 

a dining room with a ceiling created by God Himself, 

one or two books, 

the background music of nature, lemonade, and of course, those cookies.

I have high hopes that the children will return soon, I'm guessing by dinnertime (I'm making their favorite)  or most definitely by nightfall. If not by then, I'm sure they'll show up for breakfast....they didn't take THAT many cookies with them!





Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Katie at Bat

The blog post I planned for today will have to wait. I didn't get to finish it because I was in the bleachers at Kate's game tonight, watching this...



My phone's video camera wasn't working last week. I took the phone to the store two days ago and even though it was 1 day past the warranty, the store exchanged it anyway! If they had not, well...no video would have been possible!

We may or may not have celebrated with good friends and a teensy bit of ice cream!!


Grins all around!

Monday, June 4, 2012

Rhubarb Cometh...Once More!!

Soon after my little family of four moved to the city we now call home, I was given an armful of rhubarb by a lovely lady we call Ms. Irma. I had little history with rhubarb to that point in my cooking career so upon receipt of the strange red stalks, I looked in cookbook after cookbook for some direction and found a recipe for Rhubarb Cream Pie which was a hit with my son who inhaled most of the pie single-handedly. I especially enjoyed the tart taste that the rhubarb added to the pie in contrast to the cream.

The next year, Ms. Irma gave me more rhubarb, and the next year still more and a tradition was born. Rhubarb wasn't the only thing Ms. Irma provided to that new-to-town gal. I am not a newspaper reader and have never aspired to be one--but Ms. Irma, oh she had it covered. Her newspaper was surely black and white and read all over, as the old joke goes. Out of her news-knowledge, she kept me posted on the current events and activities that were available to me and my family in our new town.

Just as I was getting all settled into the yearly rhubarb rhythm, and spoiled by receiving my local news in a personalized-just-for-me fashion, Ms. Irma became MRS. Irma and high-tailed it out of town in a cloud of wedded bliss... rhubarb, newspaper clippings and all!

I've been fairly rhubarb-less since then...until...

...a certain Mrs. Harris stepped in and made a generous offer of strawberries and rhubarb!

Yes pleeeeeeeaaaassssseeeee and...


THANK YOU!!


By the time the rhubarb was delivered to my driveway {thanks delivery guy!} I'd come across an interesting recipe involving rhubarb and strawberries that looked like fun but carried a sophisticated -sounding name: Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote.

Unsure of compote, I looked it up...

Compote: In the culinary arts a compote is a recipe consisting of some sort of fruit, fresh or dried, that has been stewed in a syrup of sugar and other seasonings. (about.com)

Sounds pretty simple, I can stew and I'm very well acquainted with sugar. My next problem was that the recipe instructed me to place my rhubarb in a non-reactive pan. I knew a reactive pan was one made of metal of some sort, but what kind? Did that include all metal or only certain kinds? I didn't know, so I looked it up too. 

According to thekitchn.com non-reactive pans include stainless steel and ceramic pans. When a recipe calls for the use of a non-reactive pan, the issue is one of acid. A reactive pan (one made of non-stainless steel, cast iron, aluminum, and copper) will react when it comes into contact with acidic foods like tomatoes and lemon juice and rhubarb. When this reaction occurs, food will  taste like metal.

Meet my Grandma Benson's green bean pot...ceramic, non-reactive, and the most lovely shade of blue! 


Now to the rhubarb compote.  

Rinse about five stalks of rhubarb well with cold water and chop off both ends. 
Discard the ends and chop it into 1 inch pieces (give or take).

Toss it into your non-reactive pot.


Next, add a generous cup of your jewel-red strawberries, cutting larger ones in half.


To the berries and rhubarb, add 1 cup plus two tablespoons of sugar...


...and a generous teaspoon of vanilla.

Stir well and heat to a simmer. 

Turn heat to low, and continue to simmer for about 15 minutes or until the rhubarb is soft.



Remove from heat and allow mixture cool to room temperature.
Your compote will thicken as it cools until it is much like jam but a bit more spreadable.


Now, you are a compote aficionado! 

Pour your compote into a jar or other lidded container and keep in the fridge. In addition to dressing up bread and butter, this compote is a great addition to oatmeal or yogurt and, as is described in the original recipe, it makes a bright, happy topping for pancakes and waffles!

Thank you, Mrs. Harris for filling in for Mrs. Irma...do you by chance get the newspaper for my town?

Rhubarb-Strawberry Compote
{Printable via The Sassy Radish here}

Ingredients:
1 pound (5-6 stalks) rhubarb chopped into 1 inch slices
1 generous cup strawberries, capped and larger ones halved
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1 generous teaspoon vanilla

Directions:
Place rhubarb, strawberries, sugar and vanilla in a non-reactive pot. Bring to a simmer, reduce heat and continue simmering until rhubarb becomes very soft. Remove from heat and allow compote to cool to room temperature. Compote will thicken as it cools. Place in a glass jar or plastic container and refrigerate!  Enjoy on pancakes, waffles, oatmeal, biscuits, yogurt or simply...on a spoon!

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