A very interesting news story was featured today on local channel 5 St Louis, both on the morning and noon news. It seems to fall into the category of “It is more blessed to give than receive.”
The congregation had been told they would be given $10,000., broken up into varying dollar amounts to the individual members present. The members were given sealed envelopes of $20, $50, $100, and all were to be opened at the same time. They were told to give the money to a person or organization, outside their congregation, and were asked to write an account of how they had used the money, which would be posted on the church’s web page.
I would have liked to read the follow-ups, but I didn’t find a link to the church’s web site in the KSDK article, or by searching. Not sure why. I found the church and its address, but couldn’t come up with the web site. Perhaps will find it later.
This was very refreshing to hear and to read. I have seen so much recently of the angry, strident Christian, I have at times wondered if the Church has forgotten its mission. Why is so much anger spilling out of so many IF they profess to be Christians?
Is not the Love of God for man the dominant factor of the gospel message of Christianity? The by-product being man’s love of God and for his fellow man?
Is there not a better way to achieve a desired result? Or could it be that the shouting, rebellious Christian just gets more exposure.
This was a heart-warming story. I commend the pastor and the church. I look forward to seeing the results of their efforts to involve the membership in following in the Master’s footsteps.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
About This Blog - How Small Is That
Perhaps you think I jump about from topic to topic too much, instead of staying with just one category. I do. I like variety. So we go from memories to food, health issues, ways to trim expenses a bit, to my day’s activities; in today’s parlance, whatever. Besides, if I stayed with just one category, I would have too many blogs for me to manage. I want it to be fun, not a chore. If you read the blog, and you want to see more of a particular topic, let me know. Maybe I can do that, and maybe I can’t. Who knows!
The last blog was about my Memories of the WWII era. This one is from an old saying of my mother’s.
“It’s not big enough to cuss a cat in.” A saying used to describe something which wasn’t big enough to accommodate whatever was wanted. I don’t remember any of the incidents or situations, which caused my mother to use this particular descriptive phrase, but I remember hearing it any number of times. How small is that? When you think about it, any space that wouldn’t be big enough to cuss a cat in would be pretty small indeed. I should think that if you could stand in it, sit in it, or lie down in it, any space at all would be big enough to cuss a cat in it.
Come to think of it, in today’s world, twitter’s 140 spaces would be just about the right amount of space to do what my mother’s saying suggests, but we don’t do that there. Right! Or anywhere else, do we?
The last blog was about my Memories of the WWII era. This one is from an old saying of my mother’s.
“It’s not big enough to cuss a cat in.” A saying used to describe something which wasn’t big enough to accommodate whatever was wanted. I don’t remember any of the incidents or situations, which caused my mother to use this particular descriptive phrase, but I remember hearing it any number of times. How small is that? When you think about it, any space that wouldn’t be big enough to cuss a cat in would be pretty small indeed. I should think that if you could stand in it, sit in it, or lie down in it, any space at all would be big enough to cuss a cat in it.
Come to think of it, in today’s world, twitter’s 140 spaces would be just about the right amount of space to do what my mother’s saying suggests, but we don’t do that there. Right! Or anywhere else, do we?
Sunday, September 27, 2009
World War II - From My Perspective
What was it like in World War II from my perspective? I’m not sure of what I can tell you. So, let’s break into the memory bank and see what we find.
My husband and I were married in 1942, not quite a year after the beginning of World War II. He left for the Army one day less than two months later. We knew this was likely to happen at some point. We were just surprised that it hadn’t occurred earlier. Oddly enough, Melvin had tried to enlist about a year before, in the Navy; but was rejected because of flat feet. When he was drafted some time later, he was assigned to the infantry and walked his way across Europe. Shipboard required better feet than the infantry?
We were married three years before we spent an anniversary or holiday together. In those days, after a soldier was sent to overseas, there was no stipulated time limit before being furloughed home. Once you were in the war theater, you were there for the duration. The men did get a three day pass from time to time, depending on circumstances. And the occasional furlough, to designated places in the general area, then a return to active duty. In later wars, apparently a rotation system was thought to work better.
Melvin was in the States longer than some men were, before getting their assignment to overseas duty, though we were separated for all but six months of that time. He was in a replacement training unit, and some men were sent ‘over’ to replace men who had individually lost their war, while others remained to help train new men coming in. Out of a special buddy unit of three, one of Melvin’s closest friends was sent to Europe for the D-Day invasion. In the all for one and one for all spirit, the other two put up a fuss They wanted to go with Hank. Needless to say, what was was; nobody paid any attention to what left-behind buddies wanted.
Perhaps it was because the top brass knew it was then time for an all out push, but just a few weeks later, the entire division followed Hank to Europe. Melvin and Woody remained in the same unit: Woody was the COs driver and Melvin was a machine gunner. The life-expectancy of a machine gunner was not great. The way I handled that was that I simply did not accept the fact that Melvin might not return. My faith in his return was apparently greater than his. I think when he left, he never expected to return. Fortunately, he did.
That did not mean that I was not concerned, or that I did not say countless prayers, but I did not ask myself, What if he doesn’t return? Or What will I do if he is killed? I did not allow myself to think those thoughts. I concentrated on when the war is over, and when he comes home. However, there was a brief period just before the end of 1944, when things were not going well, when I almost faltered for a moment. It was something like starting to fall, but somehow you regain your balance and right yourself before hitting the floor.
That’s all for now. Perhaps more later.
My husband and I were married in 1942, not quite a year after the beginning of World War II. He left for the Army one day less than two months later. We knew this was likely to happen at some point. We were just surprised that it hadn’t occurred earlier. Oddly enough, Melvin had tried to enlist about a year before, in the Navy; but was rejected because of flat feet. When he was drafted some time later, he was assigned to the infantry and walked his way across Europe. Shipboard required better feet than the infantry?
We were married three years before we spent an anniversary or holiday together. In those days, after a soldier was sent to overseas, there was no stipulated time limit before being furloughed home. Once you were in the war theater, you were there for the duration. The men did get a three day pass from time to time, depending on circumstances. And the occasional furlough, to designated places in the general area, then a return to active duty. In later wars, apparently a rotation system was thought to work better.
Melvin was in the States longer than some men were, before getting their assignment to overseas duty, though we were separated for all but six months of that time. He was in a replacement training unit, and some men were sent ‘over’ to replace men who had individually lost their war, while others remained to help train new men coming in. Out of a special buddy unit of three, one of Melvin’s closest friends was sent to Europe for the D-Day invasion. In the all for one and one for all spirit, the other two put up a fuss They wanted to go with Hank. Needless to say, what was was; nobody paid any attention to what left-behind buddies wanted.
Perhaps it was because the top brass knew it was then time for an all out push, but just a few weeks later, the entire division followed Hank to Europe. Melvin and Woody remained in the same unit: Woody was the COs driver and Melvin was a machine gunner. The life-expectancy of a machine gunner was not great. The way I handled that was that I simply did not accept the fact that Melvin might not return. My faith in his return was apparently greater than his. I think when he left, he never expected to return. Fortunately, he did.
That did not mean that I was not concerned, or that I did not say countless prayers, but I did not ask myself, What if he doesn’t return? Or What will I do if he is killed? I did not allow myself to think those thoughts. I concentrated on when the war is over, and when he comes home. However, there was a brief period just before the end of 1944, when things were not going well, when I almost faltered for a moment. It was something like starting to fall, but somehow you regain your balance and right yourself before hitting the floor.
That’s all for now. Perhaps more later.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Hold Fast the Dream
Hold fast the Dream!
Though it may seem
that shining star
is much too far
beyond your grasp,
that you will never clasp
one small beam.
Even though,
don’t let go.
Hold fast the dream!
This was what I taught my children: That if there was something they wanted to do, which might seem beyond the possibilities they could envision,if it was a worthwhile thing, there was almost always a way to be found, but you had to look for it. And if in the striving, there seemed to be a diversion, perhaps this was just a step along the way, and also, perhaps might lead to a new perspective on what they might want to do. The above is what I want them and their children, and those that follow to remember.
Though it may seem
that shining star
is much too far
beyond your grasp,
that you will never clasp
one small beam.
Even though,
don’t let go.
Hold fast the dream!
This was what I taught my children: That if there was something they wanted to do, which might seem beyond the possibilities they could envision,if it was a worthwhile thing, there was almost always a way to be found, but you had to look for it. And if in the striving, there seemed to be a diversion, perhaps this was just a step along the way, and also, perhaps might lead to a new perspective on what they might want to do. The above is what I want them and their children, and those that follow to remember.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Apple Pie Recipe
1 unbaked pie crust {pre-made from store - or make your own}
5 tart apples
2 tablespoons water
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon +
1/8 cup water
1 container (16 oz) Whipped Cream Cheese Frosting or
1 carton Whipped Topping
Tip: I lightly sprinkle sugar on the unbaked pie crust, and bake about five minutes while the apples are cooking. Set aside until needed. Place crust on cookie sheet before adding the apple mixture, for ease in handling & to avoid a possible bubble over in the oven.
Peel and thinly slice apples. Cook with 2 tablespoons water for 5 minutes. (Stir a time or two for even cooking.) Remove from heat. Mix sugar, cornstarch, salt and cinnamon. Stir in 1/8 cup water to make a thin paste. Stir into apples. Pour filling into pie crust.
Bake 400°F. for 10 minutes, then at 325°F. for 35 minutes. (Ovens vary: Check crust color and pierce apples with the point of a sharp knife to see if both meet your approval.)
+ After removing pie from oven, lightly sprinkle pie with cinnamon and sugar; as you might sprinkle toast.
Top cut pieces with a dollop or two of frosting: Alternately: top with whipped topping instead.
Taste: Very good. Problem: Cut and lift carefully when serving. It is difficult to remove from pan without breaking up. I tried various things to see if I could correct this, but have not found the answer. It may be that it is just too heavy for the crust.
This is the recipe I promised you several blogs ago. I adapted the recipe from one which I had cut out of an old newspaper many years ago. No mention was made of the above difficulty.
5 tart apples
2 tablespoons water
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon +
1/8 cup water
1 container (16 oz) Whipped Cream Cheese Frosting or
1 carton Whipped Topping
Tip: I lightly sprinkle sugar on the unbaked pie crust, and bake about five minutes while the apples are cooking. Set aside until needed. Place crust on cookie sheet before adding the apple mixture, for ease in handling & to avoid a possible bubble over in the oven.
Peel and thinly slice apples. Cook with 2 tablespoons water for 5 minutes. (Stir a time or two for even cooking.) Remove from heat. Mix sugar, cornstarch, salt and cinnamon. Stir in 1/8 cup water to make a thin paste. Stir into apples. Pour filling into pie crust.
Bake 400°F. for 10 minutes, then at 325°F. for 35 minutes. (Ovens vary: Check crust color and pierce apples with the point of a sharp knife to see if both meet your approval.)
+ After removing pie from oven, lightly sprinkle pie with cinnamon and sugar; as you might sprinkle toast.
Top cut pieces with a dollop or two of frosting: Alternately: top with whipped topping instead.
Taste: Very good. Problem: Cut and lift carefully when serving. It is difficult to remove from pan without breaking up. I tried various things to see if I could correct this, but have not found the answer. It may be that it is just too heavy for the crust.
This is the recipe I promised you several blogs ago. I adapted the recipe from one which I had cut out of an old newspaper many years ago. No mention was made of the above difficulty.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Personal Safety Tips
An officer from the local Sheriff’s Department spoke to the residents where I live and suggested some precautions we might take towards personal safety and credit or bank theft. As elder citizens, most of us are no physical match for the usually, younger, stronger purse snatcher, or home invader.
One of the things that struck me was his warning to women who put their purse straps under their arm and loop the strap around their neck on the opposite side; or simply around the neck. I don’t do this because I rarely carry a purse with a strap that long, but some do.
He said that if anyone jerked or pulled on that strap, in all likelihood you would fall to the ground. I believe his words were, “You will go down.” We all know that a fall will lead to scrapes, bumps and bruises; but more dangerous, are broken bones or head injuries, which could occur. There is also the possibility of neck injuries, which can have even more serious results, sometimes even life-threatening.
The officer’s point was that “nothing you have in your purse is worth your life.” He suggested carrying no more credit, debit or identity cards in your purse, or on your person than you need. That way if your purse is stolen the thief doesn’t reap much benefit. So, let the purse go, save yourself and perhaps your life. He suggested having a low-limit credit card to use when ordering online. That way if the info should fall into the wrong hands, they won’t get away with too much before the theft is discovered.
Be alert when you're out and about in a mall or store parking lots; going to or from your car and getting in and out of the car.
We were reminded to shred those unwanted credit card offers we receive, and the checks we get, but don't plan to use, on credit cards we already have. Don't throw them in the trash. Shred, shred, shred! I make it a habit to shred all mail or other papers that have my name and address, or other personal information on them.
Another reminder that we may have heard, but also may tend to forget at the time the phone rings and someone asks for it, is don't give any personal information to anyone over the phone. He also mentioned a recently favored scam, where someone calls in the guise of a relative and asks you to send money to an unknown address. Don't just send it; check with relatives!
He also warned that should you become victim to a home invasion, don’t be confrontational and put yourself into more danger than you already are, but cooperate. Let them take what they will, however much you may regret the loss, because again, “Nothing you own is worth your life.”
I have tried to summarize what I took away from the meeting, with the red highlighted “quotes” from Sgt. Bill. Those I believe are verbatim, though I did not take notes, so if different by a small degree, I apologize.
One of the things that struck me was his warning to women who put their purse straps under their arm and loop the strap around their neck on the opposite side; or simply around the neck. I don’t do this because I rarely carry a purse with a strap that long, but some do.
He said that if anyone jerked or pulled on that strap, in all likelihood you would fall to the ground. I believe his words were, “You will go down.” We all know that a fall will lead to scrapes, bumps and bruises; but more dangerous, are broken bones or head injuries, which could occur. There is also the possibility of neck injuries, which can have even more serious results, sometimes even life-threatening.
The officer’s point was that “nothing you have in your purse is worth your life.” He suggested carrying no more credit, debit or identity cards in your purse, or on your person than you need. That way if your purse is stolen the thief doesn’t reap much benefit. So, let the purse go, save yourself and perhaps your life. He suggested having a low-limit credit card to use when ordering online. That way if the info should fall into the wrong hands, they won’t get away with too much before the theft is discovered.
Be alert when you're out and about in a mall or store parking lots; going to or from your car and getting in and out of the car.
We were reminded to shred those unwanted credit card offers we receive, and the checks we get, but don't plan to use, on credit cards we already have. Don't throw them in the trash. Shred, shred, shred! I make it a habit to shred all mail or other papers that have my name and address, or other personal information on them.
Another reminder that we may have heard, but also may tend to forget at the time the phone rings and someone asks for it, is don't give any personal information to anyone over the phone. He also mentioned a recently favored scam, where someone calls in the guise of a relative and asks you to send money to an unknown address. Don't just send it; check with relatives!
He also warned that should you become victim to a home invasion, don’t be confrontational and put yourself into more danger than you already are, but cooperate. Let them take what they will, however much you may regret the loss, because again, “Nothing you own is worth your life.”
I have tried to summarize what I took away from the meeting, with the red highlighted “quotes” from Sgt. Bill. Those I believe are verbatim, though I did not take notes, so if different by a small degree, I apologize.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Can't Do What You Want - Do What You Can
If you can’t do what you want, do what you can. Words that have been a part of my life for a very long time. I couldn’t begin to count the times in my life that I have found it necessary to adapt my plans to this idea. Like it or not, there are times when we must adapt to circumstances, and the ability to do that means the difference in our happiness to misery quotient. Needless to say, I have not always been able to do that to the same degree. I believe this falls in line with the Christophers slogan, “It is better to light one small candle, than curse the darkness.”
How many times are we frustrated because we want to do something, and for various reasons, we can’t? So, do we complain? Make a fuss? Do either help? Perhaps they help a little in the sense that we might have released some tension. If we really can’t do what we want to do, whether it is achieving a goal; or alleviating a troublesome situation, what can we do instead?
If we can’t do a specific thing concerning the specific subject of what we want to do, perhaps we can do something else towards the same purpose, while waiting to do what was originally planned. As things work out, it sometimes happens that the original want might no longer be of importance to us after all.
If we can’t do anything at all concerning the plan we had in mind, perhaps what we can do involves something else entirely. And who knows where that will lead? It might lead to something that will help in getting on with what we wanted to do originally. Or it might turn into something else altogether, developing into a new B & B. No, not a bed and breakfast; Blessings and Benefits.
How many times are we frustrated because we want to do something, and for various reasons, we can’t? So, do we complain? Make a fuss? Do either help? Perhaps they help a little in the sense that we might have released some tension. If we really can’t do what we want to do, whether it is achieving a goal; or alleviating a troublesome situation, what can we do instead?
If we can’t do a specific thing concerning the specific subject of what we want to do, perhaps we can do something else towards the same purpose, while waiting to do what was originally planned. As things work out, it sometimes happens that the original want might no longer be of importance to us after all.
If we can’t do anything at all concerning the plan we had in mind, perhaps what we can do involves something else entirely. And who knows where that will lead? It might lead to something that will help in getting on with what we wanted to do originally. Or it might turn into something else altogether, developing into a new B & B. No, not a bed and breakfast; Blessings and Benefits.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Fat Cells: The Unwanted
Like many other people, I have my share of unwanted fat cells. At one time I was glad to add some of those fat cells, because for the most part of the first 30 some years of my life, I was a Skinny Minnie. I walked around every winter feeling like I was freezing to death. When I finally added a few pounds, it wasn’t quite so bad.
Now, I would like to shed some of those fat cells, if possible. Up to now, it hasn’t seemed to work out that way. Many people think of me as being a small person, and I am as far as stature is concerned. But those fat cells have settled in; some on my mid-section [With maybe a loss of muscle tone. Maybe? Ha!], but more on my hips and thighs.
It seems these cells are like squatters; they settle where we don’t want them, and like it or not, they’re here to stay. I’ve read and heard that once you get fat cells, they stick to you like glue. Can't get rid of them. But – maybe there is hope.
I believe the most important thing is health rather than vanity; but if vanity is the motivator, which leads to good health, that's okay too. One of the helpful things I’ve found in looking for information on the subject is that flax seed oil can be helpful in preventing the turning of blood to sludge in the arteries. When I was first told that I had some plaque in my carotid arteries, I was a bit surprised. My diet was varied, and for the most part, I thought I made healthy choices.
The doctor told me that even though the plaque in my arteries was not extreme, there was a danger that it could stick to the blood and form clots [may not be exactly as he said it, but you get the idea]. These clots could cause really big problems. If you can’t add flax seed in other forms to your diet, a pill or two a day might be just the thing to keep that blood soft and flowing. And prevent a serious health incident before you realize there is a problem. But, please, if you are already on blood thinners for an existing condition, or have other health problems, consult your doctor about what you should do.
Something else I’ve found out about recently that may help with existing fat cells and discourage new ones is white tea. I’ve read a lot of information on it, and I’m giving it a try. It seems promising.
I found the following in an article online giving the possible benefits of white tea: “White Tea Secret Out of the Bag” by Amara Sohn
The “Study says tea may help you shed pounds and prevent cancer. Not only does it increase your metabolism and prevent new fat cells from forming, it may also help prevent cancer, improve your skin and fight other signs of aging, according to the study.”
The article was based on a new study published by the Journal of Nutrition and Metabolism. The article can be found online.
I found a number of articles on the subject, using my search engine, if you want more information.
Now, I would like to shed some of those fat cells, if possible. Up to now, it hasn’t seemed to work out that way. Many people think of me as being a small person, and I am as far as stature is concerned. But those fat cells have settled in; some on my mid-section [With maybe a loss of muscle tone. Maybe? Ha!], but more on my hips and thighs.
It seems these cells are like squatters; they settle where we don’t want them, and like it or not, they’re here to stay. I’ve read and heard that once you get fat cells, they stick to you like glue. Can't get rid of them. But – maybe there is hope.
I believe the most important thing is health rather than vanity; but if vanity is the motivator, which leads to good health, that's okay too. One of the helpful things I’ve found in looking for information on the subject is that flax seed oil can be helpful in preventing the turning of blood to sludge in the arteries. When I was first told that I had some plaque in my carotid arteries, I was a bit surprised. My diet was varied, and for the most part, I thought I made healthy choices.
The doctor told me that even though the plaque in my arteries was not extreme, there was a danger that it could stick to the blood and form clots [may not be exactly as he said it, but you get the idea]. These clots could cause really big problems. If you can’t add flax seed in other forms to your diet, a pill or two a day might be just the thing to keep that blood soft and flowing. And prevent a serious health incident before you realize there is a problem. But, please, if you are already on blood thinners for an existing condition, or have other health problems, consult your doctor about what you should do.
Something else I’ve found out about recently that may help with existing fat cells and discourage new ones is white tea. I’ve read a lot of information on it, and I’m giving it a try. It seems promising.
I found the following in an article online giving the possible benefits of white tea: “White Tea Secret Out of the Bag” by Amara Sohn
The “Study says tea may help you shed pounds and prevent cancer. Not only does it increase your metabolism and prevent new fat cells from forming, it may also help prevent cancer, improve your skin and fight other signs of aging, according to the study.”
The article was based on a new study published by the Journal of Nutrition and Metabolism. The article can be found online.
I found a number of articles on the subject, using my search engine, if you want more information.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Hoboes
Dad built the second house we lived in along Missouri Highway 8. He bought the first place we lived there, from a friend, whose marriage had broken up and he moved away. Later he divorced and remarried, and decided he would like to live in his old house again with his new wife. So, Dad built another house for us, which was just across the road and east a bit.
During that period of time, hoboes went through the area fairly often, walking their way to somewhere; or maybe nowhere; just walking. They would usually stop by about supper time and a plate of food was always found for them. I don’t remember the details of any of them except a little of one hobo’s visit.
We had a wood picnic table with bench seats out in the back yard, and ate supper there quite often in the summer time. This time when the hobo stopped by, Mother fixed him a plate of food, and took it out to the table, where he and Dad sat talking. Dad stayed there and talked to him while he ate. Mother returned to the house.
We kids were very curious and wanted to hang around and hear what he had to stay, but we were banished. We were told to go in the house or go play somewhere else outside. Mostly, we went a little farther off from where he and Dad were talking, and watched from a distance as we played, maybe caught a word or two, now and then. Later, Mother called us to come in. I’m sure we were full of questions when Dad came in for the night, but my memory can’t recall that.
We didn’t have a barn there that the man could have stayed in overnight, but since it was on toward dusk by the time he finished eating, I imagine he stayed nearby somewhere. There was one of those big, round pipes [or whatever they were called] under the road, in front of the house. We used to run back and forth through that one when we were playing, and barring an outbuilding nearby, he might have taken shelter there. It was warm weather and he would have been protected from the wind.
A young man who lived with us from time to time, hoboed his way across the country to California, more than once. According to what he told us, he “road the rails,” on some of those trips, but the details are lost to time.
During that period of time, hoboes went through the area fairly often, walking their way to somewhere; or maybe nowhere; just walking. They would usually stop by about supper time and a plate of food was always found for them. I don’t remember the details of any of them except a little of one hobo’s visit.
We had a wood picnic table with bench seats out in the back yard, and ate supper there quite often in the summer time. This time when the hobo stopped by, Mother fixed him a plate of food, and took it out to the table, where he and Dad sat talking. Dad stayed there and talked to him while he ate. Mother returned to the house.
We kids were very curious and wanted to hang around and hear what he had to stay, but we were banished. We were told to go in the house or go play somewhere else outside. Mostly, we went a little farther off from where he and Dad were talking, and watched from a distance as we played, maybe caught a word or two, now and then. Later, Mother called us to come in. I’m sure we were full of questions when Dad came in for the night, but my memory can’t recall that.
We didn’t have a barn there that the man could have stayed in overnight, but since it was on toward dusk by the time he finished eating, I imagine he stayed nearby somewhere. There was one of those big, round pipes [or whatever they were called] under the road, in front of the house. We used to run back and forth through that one when we were playing, and barring an outbuilding nearby, he might have taken shelter there. It was warm weather and he would have been protected from the wind.
A young man who lived with us from time to time, hoboed his way across the country to California, more than once. According to what he told us, he “road the rails,” on some of those trips, but the details are lost to time.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Apple Pie - Old Newspaper Clipping
Recently, I came across an old recipe that I had clipped from a newspaper, probably about 30 years ago, possibly even a bit more. I had never tried it; as I haven’t done with many of the recipes I clipped. [Hey, I like to read recipes in newspapers, magazines, and in cook books.] Most of the old clippings I still had, had gone the way of the blue recycle bag; but somehow this one, found a place to stay and hadn’t been thrown out. I’ve never had too good luck with recipes that I’ve clipped from newspapers. I’m not sure why. Occasionally, though, the recipe lived up to my expectations, or perhaps I should say, my hopes.
This clipping was for an apple pie recipe: no top crust; water added; quite different from the apple pie I used to make. Still - apples, sugar, and cinnamon are a powerful combination. I made plenty of apple pies when my family was around: for holiday meals, Sunday dinner, and the occasional ‘just because I wanted to’ dinner.
My husband and children all seemed to enjoy the apple pies I made, and so did I. I don’t believe anyone else who ate them found fault with them either. But, once upon a time my mother ate with us, or I took it to a bring-a-dish meal. She said my apple pie tasted good, but she liked juicier apple pies. The difference in the pies I made was that I combined a bit of flour with the sugar, dusted it over each layer of apples [usually 3 layers], then lightly sprinkled the layers with cinnamon. The pies were not dry, but juice didn’t run all over when you cut the pie. Mother said she didn’t add any flour to her apple pies.
We all have our own tastes and preferences in eating, and she was a very good cook, so I’m sure my mother’s apple pies tasted good too. [As I said in another blog, the only apple pie I recall her making were those delicious Apple Custard pies.] Even so, if I want a juicier apple pie, I’ll put it in a square or oblong baking pan, and call it, “Cobbler.”
Today seemed a good time to try that clipped recipe. I cut down on the sugar, because I decided a long time ago, that most foods just didn’t need the amount of sugar called for in many recipes. I also cut the amount of water added, and I’m glad I did. [If I hadn’t, I’m afraid that juicy pie/cobbler would have run all over the oven.] The pie tasted very good, but I want to make it again, and then I’ll post the recipe for you. There is one more difference too, but you will have to wait for that, until I do the recipe here.
This clipping was for an apple pie recipe: no top crust; water added; quite different from the apple pie I used to make. Still - apples, sugar, and cinnamon are a powerful combination. I made plenty of apple pies when my family was around: for holiday meals, Sunday dinner, and the occasional ‘just because I wanted to’ dinner.
My husband and children all seemed to enjoy the apple pies I made, and so did I. I don’t believe anyone else who ate them found fault with them either. But, once upon a time my mother ate with us, or I took it to a bring-a-dish meal. She said my apple pie tasted good, but she liked juicier apple pies. The difference in the pies I made was that I combined a bit of flour with the sugar, dusted it over each layer of apples [usually 3 layers], then lightly sprinkled the layers with cinnamon. The pies were not dry, but juice didn’t run all over when you cut the pie. Mother said she didn’t add any flour to her apple pies.
We all have our own tastes and preferences in eating, and she was a very good cook, so I’m sure my mother’s apple pies tasted good too. [As I said in another blog, the only apple pie I recall her making were those delicious Apple Custard pies.] Even so, if I want a juicier apple pie, I’ll put it in a square or oblong baking pan, and call it, “Cobbler.”
Today seemed a good time to try that clipped recipe. I cut down on the sugar, because I decided a long time ago, that most foods just didn’t need the amount of sugar called for in many recipes. I also cut the amount of water added, and I’m glad I did. [If I hadn’t, I’m afraid that juicy pie/cobbler would have run all over the oven.] The pie tasted very good, but I want to make it again, and then I’ll post the recipe for you. There is one more difference too, but you will have to wait for that, until I do the recipe here.
Horizons
Today’s thought: “A horizon is nothing, save the limit of our sight.”
This quote is part of a longer prayer in the Devotions in the back of my Bible. It was meant for comfort in thinking of death, but I think the portion above can be applied in other situations also. Could it not be paraphrased to say, a horizon is nothing, save the limit of our thoughts? I will list the complete prayer, and leave it to you to think about. Needless to say, I don’t know the originator of the prayer.
“O God, teach our hearts to know that Life is eternal, and Love is immortal, and Death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. Lift us up that we may see further; cleanse our eyes that we may see more clearly; through Jesus Christ, our Lord.”
This quote is part of a longer prayer in the Devotions in the back of my Bible. It was meant for comfort in thinking of death, but I think the portion above can be applied in other situations also. Could it not be paraphrased to say, a horizon is nothing, save the limit of our thoughts? I will list the complete prayer, and leave it to you to think about. Needless to say, I don’t know the originator of the prayer.
“O God, teach our hearts to know that Life is eternal, and Love is immortal, and Death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. Lift us up that we may see further; cleanse our eyes that we may see more clearly; through Jesus Christ, our Lord.”
Friday, September 4, 2009
Summer Fun - 1938
Dad decided he would take us on what was then sometimes called an “outing.” The destination: Meramec Springs Park, near St James, not far from where our grandparents lived. He invited the neighborhood kids to go along.
I'm not sure if Mother, with probably Blanche's [my older sister's] help, cooked the food, or if we just took along sandwiches, perhaps cookies and something to drink for our picnic lunch. Whatever it was, we probably ate it with gusto.
I'm not sure if Mother, with probably Blanche's [my older sister's] help, cooked the food, or if we just took along sandwiches, perhaps cookies and something to drink for our picnic lunch. Whatever it was, we probably ate it with gusto.
We rode in the back of a flat bed truck, belonging to the older brother of my sister’s husband. I think that would not be permitted now; but the traffic and the speed on the gravel road would not have been the same as present day traffic. We all seemed to have a fun day. Since we passed the park on the way to and from Grandpa Stricker’s farm, we had stopped there before, but it may have been a first time visit to the park for some of the group
Being a shortie, I usually get pushed to the front of any group picture, and the other three in front were about my age; so the older, also taller girls took the back row. I am the one in the slacks [as they were then called] in the front row. Pants were not yet in general acceptance in our area for female wear. Mother thought they were much more practical for outdoor activities, than the inevitable dresses usually worn. However, it was back to dresses for all other occasions.
My sister’s head is visible, just behind me on the right. [You can see her pant leg between me and Ruth's skirt. Blanche's slacks were blue with a white stripe; mine were brown with a yellow stripe. Ah, the peculiarities of memory.] The girl next to me on the left was Junella Glore, called Johnnie; a nickname I was unintentionally responsible for giving her, a couple of years later. She was a best friend for a number of my growing up years. On the right was Ruth Mosier, another good friend, and next to her was Avella Mason; a friend, who became my sister-in-law some years later. In back on the left was Nadine French, and on the right Lucille Helms, friends of my sister.
I don’t recall a lot of the details of that day, but we explored the park; had our picnic lunch, generally enjoyed ourselves, and came home tired and happy. Thanks to one of Dad’s ideas of a good time for our family and our friends.
Being a shortie, I usually get pushed to the front of any group picture, and the other three in front were about my age; so the older, also taller girls took the back row. I am the one in the slacks [as they were then called] in the front row. Pants were not yet in general acceptance in our area for female wear. Mother thought they were much more practical for outdoor activities, than the inevitable dresses usually worn. However, it was back to dresses for all other occasions.
My sister’s head is visible, just behind me on the right. [You can see her pant leg between me and Ruth's skirt. Blanche's slacks were blue with a white stripe; mine were brown with a yellow stripe. Ah, the peculiarities of memory.] The girl next to me on the left was Junella Glore, called Johnnie; a nickname I was unintentionally responsible for giving her, a couple of years later. She was a best friend for a number of my growing up years. On the right was Ruth Mosier, another good friend, and next to her was Avella Mason; a friend, who became my sister-in-law some years later. In back on the left was Nadine French, and on the right Lucille Helms, friends of my sister.
I don’t recall a lot of the details of that day, but we explored the park; had our picnic lunch, generally enjoyed ourselves, and came home tired and happy. Thanks to one of Dad’s ideas of a good time for our family and our friends.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
More Aroma Memories
One of my favorite aroma memories was Grandma’s house. She didn’t live near enough for us to run down and visit whenever we might like, but we probably made overnight visits two or three times a year. We entered the house from a closed in porch off the kitchen, that was used as a “summer kitchen” and dining area. It was always filled with the aroma of home-made bread and rolls. Absolutely wonderful! Grandma was a short, plump little woman, with long gray hair, twisted into a bun at the back of her head, who beamed at us when we arrived.
I don’t recall my mother ever making yeast bread. She made biscuits most of the time, and less frequently corn bread. She might have occasionally bought a loaf of bread from the bakery; but I remember also, seeing those pre-sliced loaves of bread, with the brightly colored dots on the wrapper, which we had with some of our meals. Ready-made bread at the bakers was a boon to busy, many-tasked housewives, which reminds me of another place of heavenly scent.
We lived kitty-cornered across town, about a mile from the grade school. About two or three blocks before we reached home, we passed Buehl’s Bakery. I can’t even begin to describe the wonderful scents that teased our senses as we walked by. Mornings were rushed; we could only breathe it in as we passed by. But, on the walk home, I couldn’t resist dawdling, looking through the window; and lucky me when I had a nickel, deciding on just which delicious tidbit I might try. Buehls is my very best scent memory. We lived at that particular place about three years before we moved to the country. The bakery was one of the things I really missed.
I don’t recall my mother ever making yeast bread. She made biscuits most of the time, and less frequently corn bread. She might have occasionally bought a loaf of bread from the bakery; but I remember also, seeing those pre-sliced loaves of bread, with the brightly colored dots on the wrapper, which we had with some of our meals. Ready-made bread at the bakers was a boon to busy, many-tasked housewives, which reminds me of another place of heavenly scent.
We lived kitty-cornered across town, about a mile from the grade school. About two or three blocks before we reached home, we passed Buehl’s Bakery. I can’t even begin to describe the wonderful scents that teased our senses as we walked by. Mornings were rushed; we could only breathe it in as we passed by. But, on the walk home, I couldn’t resist dawdling, looking through the window; and lucky me when I had a nickel, deciding on just which delicious tidbit I might try. Buehls is my very best scent memory. We lived at that particular place about three years before we moved to the country. The bakery was one of the things I really missed.
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