Umbrellas, Snow and 1-2-3- Potato Soup

A day to remember. 

It rained

I walked a couple of blocks

Picked up my playmate

She was dressed for the occasion

Boots

Mittens

Hood

Umbrella

Off we went

Wind caught under our black sails

Cold-footed drops tap-dancing over our heads

I said

"Can you hear the pitter patter of the rain drops?"

She giggled

"Mommy already asked me that."

I smiled

"And what was your answer?"

"YES!'

(Okay, obvious question, even to a 4 year old.)

~
We arrive home

De-brief the camera

She, on a barstool

Me, standing close behind

We both like the posterized version

Papa is home

He calls out like a trumpet

" It's snowing!"
We run to the window

Huge flakes of snow
Floating down like happy parrot troopers

She dances
(Poor Auntie Em's been wanting snow for 20 years!)

Then we make hot chocolate

And potato soup
(...because I intend to have a grandchild say to her grandchild,
 "I learned to cook in my Mimi's kitchen.)

                 

                         Here is our recipe 

1-2-3- Creamy Potato Soup

8 large potatoes washed, peeled and cubed

    (I used red this time and removed half the peel.)

½ - 1 lb. cooked bacon

2 chopped onions

2 stalks celery, chopped

1 quart chicken stock

2 cups water

2 cups milk

½ cup flour mixed with ¼ cup water (to thicken soup) 

3 tbs. butter

Salt and pepper

Stove top instructions:

1.  Sauté onion and celery in large stockpot. 

2.  Add chicken stock, water potatoes, and bacon. Bring to boil, turn down heat and simmer 2-3 hours.

3. Add milk (slowly).It is best if milk is room temp. One hour before serving, mix flour and water and add to soup.

*For extra creamy soup: when ready to serve, scoop about 3 cups into blender and mix until smooth and pour back into soup pot.

Crock pot instructions:

1.  Add butter vegetables, stock and water to crockpot.

2.  Cook on high 6 hours.

3.  One hour before add warmed milk, make paste with ½ cu. flour and 1/4 cu. water and stir into pot.
(See * above)

When serving soup, add one cooked, sliced hot dog (or sausage, or not) and a handful of cheese to the top of each bowl.

 Makes 8-10 servings

                                

(Click the Print Friendly button to save or print.)

~Enjoy

Linking up with:
Farm Chick Chit Chat
Brighton Park: Tender Moments with Toddlers and Preschoolers
White Wolf Summit Farmgirl
Backyard Farming Connection
Deborah Jean's Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop

Afraid of What?

Last evening I cuddled (under an electric throw) in a favorite chair with my 4 year old granddaughter while her mommy fed the chickens at her house a few blocks away, and while my prince picked up pizzas for dinner.

I love warmth.

Cozy is my favorite place.

Looking for me in winter?

This is where I'll be found.

Mommy returned. The pizza arrived with toppings a-glory, served on paper plates (because they are bio-degradable). We filled our bellies and then my prince and Izzy played Mr. Potatohead.

That's when it happened. Izzy asked Mommy to help her turn on the bathroom light switch.

  "You can turn on the switch, Boo," said Mommy.

Photo by rLohr Originals

I look into Izzy's big browns as she pleads with them, again, this time covering her ears. "But, I might turn on the wrong one!"   

The realization vibrates in my head, like a tuning fork!  

THE FAN!  

She is afraid of the sound of the bathroom fan! My heart leaps ... (still under the blanket, mind you.) But my heart gets it.  I know what it is like to be afraid of things that might happen if I hit the wrong switch. In fact I have those feelings every day. (I was born two weeks late because I did NOT want to leave the womb. These tendencies start early and stay put!)

I assign Papa, AKA my prince, to turn on the light for Izzy.  (Administrative skills, here.)

The evening concludes.  Papa is at the door, ready to see the girls home. (I make sure Izzy has a warm coat to wear.)  Papa informs the girls that in our day, we used a real potato to play Mr. Potatohead.  Mommy makes a face. (When he says this, he looks right at me... and our earlier conversation about recording our memories of childhood replays in my head.) 

"See," he says, I-told-you-so's darting from his blue eyes, "That's why we need to write this stuff down."

(That's me, under the blanket, behind Mr. Potatohead.)

This morning I awaken.  Warm under blankets. Praying.

"God, you know me.  You know everything about me.   I DON'T know what to do with the next part of my life. You do! "

ABBA Father, please turn on the right switch. 

Joining the Five Minute Friday gang, where a bunch of bloggers freewrite for 5 minutes, unedited, on a given topic. Today's topic is AFRAID.  click on the link if you would like to read more stories about this word. Go ahead...don't be afraid :)

Spinach Bread and Sewing Lessons at Camp Mimi

Each Monday I have the honor and pleasure of spending an entire day with the daughters of my daughters, a second generation of beautiful "little women. "

Today at "Camp Mimi" we made crock pot cauliflower soup and 1-2-3 Spinach Bread. Then we practiced sewing on my vintage Singer -- the very machine I threaded as a young girl --  back when I could see the teeny-tiny hole the thread goes through.

As my contribution to the Farm Chick Chit Chat Bread Bake-off, I'm sharing the "bread" recipe we made today.  It is from Suzanne Sommer's book,  Fast and Easy  Actually, it is not bread, per se. It is a bread substitute for folks limiting their carbohydrate intake; and since it contains absolutely no flour, it is also good for people eating a no-gluten diet. My 13-year-old grand-daughter will demonstrate that spinach bread can be made from three ingredients in less than a half hour, including bake time.

Here goes:

("Variation: To make a whole loaf of this bread, triple the ingredients and pour into well buttered loaf pan. Place pan on baking sheet and bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes at 350 degrees. A whole loaf will yield 12 slices. Use what you need and ; wrap well and freeze extra slices or loaves.")

~Enjoy

Linking with the wonderful:
 Deborah Jean's Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop
This Mind Be in You Farm Girl Friday Blog Fest
My Simple Country Living Blog Hop

Wonder-Filled Quiche

Isn't it WONDERFUL that we have today?...

...to remember yesterday 

and to plan tomorrow?...

My two granddaughters made some wonderful spinach quiche in my kitchen yesterday. I enjoyed a leftover slice today while preparing my shopping list for next week.

The recipe we used had been scrawled onto a piece of scrap paper while chatting on the phone with my sister-in-law. My 13-year-old granddaughter is compiling a notebook with recipes that we make together each Monday; this one was so messy, I sat down today to make her a tidy copy.  That's when I thought of sharing it with you.  It is soooooo good. 

Patsy's Wonderful Quiche

One recipe NO FAIL PIE CRUST. 
(You can also use pre-made or even no crust.)
6 slices cooked and crumbled bacon
1/2 cup shredded Swiss cheese
1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
1 minced onion, cooked until soft in bacon fat
1 cup heavy cream
4 fresh eggs 
3/4 cup crumbled spinach ( I freeze bags of fresh spinach leaves and crush when ready into lasagna, soups, and quiche.)
1 pinch love (I add this to everything I make.)
2 lovely granddaughters wearing aprons (optional)

Set oven to 400 degrees
Prepare bacon, onion and pie crust
Precook pie crust about 5 min and cool
Beat eggs and add cream, cheese, bacon, onion and spinach
Pour into pie crust and bake at 400 until knife comes out clean.
(about 20-25 minutes)
Cool on rack and eat room temp with a fresh salad.

~Enjoy

"Taste and see
the Lord is good."

 Day 16 

I'm linking up with Deborah Jean's Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop

The Lost Coin

Today two of my adorable grandkids came over to play. One of them brought a very special gold-wrapped chocolate coin. And within minutes, she had misplaced it.

We looked and looked. 
We looked in ALL the logical places. 

....even thought of accusing the dog.

Then we started to search in the illogical places.

We dismantled couches, and searched through cupboards and other places she had never been, finding all kinds of lost items ...

Then we did it all over again. 

and suddenly

bewilderingly

Found!

 There is was all along!

We rejoiced for a while. Then we ate it and got back to normal life.

This experience caused me to think about all the hidden things that are around us just waiting to be found; some things we are looking for, some things we've stopped looking for. It reminds me that if we look long and hard, if we persevere... sometimes, just sometimes we find gold. 

Day 8

31 Days / Seeking Inspiration

Thirty one...
Thirty one days
of inspiration. That is what I'm seeking this month.

Number One


At first light, I thought it would be this:
...our Moon.
Steady and faithful, the light of the night, she drew me to her early yesterday morning, like a bug to a light bulb --like a beacon of the timelessness of everything true.

When I took her photo, I didn't know that in a few hours I would be called to plead with a young woman to cover herself with the protection of the authority of her parents.  How could I have known that God would use me to say,"If a boy says he 'doesn't DO parents', he is not for you!"  How could I for-see that I, of all people, would be the one to say this?   But it was the inspired moment of the day, not the moon... in all her sharply curved loveliness...That's day one.

Day two is yet to come.  I'm waiting, expectantly.

Linking with Welcoming-Spirit-Blog-Hop

Grandma's Apron

Ada's Apron hangs awaiting duty

Oh how I'd love to have my grandmother to lunch today.

I would serve something light, probably salad...and I would wear her apron -- the one that hangs on the side of my fridge...and I would arrange our salad on Grandma's desert rose plates.

She would arrive smartly dressed, and properly shod and I would probably get a mini-lecture about the importance of wearing shoes when she saw my bare feet.  But it wouldn't be long before Grandma would laugh.

And when she began to laugh, I would think to reach for my camera to capture the sound.  Then, on second thought, I'd realize I have the sound of her laughter stored in my head.

After "luncheon," (that's what she called it when she got together with other women for this meal ) I would definitely sit her in front of my piano, secretly wishing I had called the piano tuner one of the hundred-and-one times I thought of it.  She would be thrilled to see that I have her music, but not nearly as thrilled as I would be to listen as her hands began to coax the keys to play...Everybody Loves Somebody...sometime.

She would notice the keys that don't sound right.

How long would it take for her to notice the lamps from her vanity, or the painting that once hung in her guest room?

Not long.

Grandma noticed things.  And she would notice things all over my home that she once touched, cleaned, arranged...loved... things my children and grandchildren think belong to me.  I would finally get to ask her about them. What was their history; where were they from?

I would introduce Grandma to my grand children. She would size them up, and when I wasn't looking, she would stealthily stuff a $20 into their hands.  I would be able to tell by the way they acted afterwards.

She would miss seeing my prince, who is off working in the 100-plus degree heat today.  But she would wisely tell me to take good care of him.  I know this because she always said it.  Grandma took care of things. That must be where I got the take-care-of-things-skills!  That must be why my mother is so careful to take care of things too! I  guess this is good news for my grand kids and their future spouses...grand kids who will one day realize that I was NOT old today...the day I had my imaginary luncheon with Grandma.

Grandma, I miss you! I cherish my memories of you.  I adore your taste in home furnishings, and I'm sorry I thought you were old when you were only 56.

I was inspired today by another blogger's post about aprons...you can read more or add your own story at Little Homestead on the Hill
and here
Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop

Don't You Dare Leave This World Without Reading This, Mom

Dear Mom,

I may be a Daughter of the King, but he gave me to you.  And in your arms I grew to love and honor and emulate you both. 

You fed me honey-butter sandwiches and pea soup when it is just about all I would eat.  You sent me outside to play with the knowledge that you were at home all day, all Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall. You gave me a chance to take piano lessons and let me quit; but not before I learned to read a bit of music --just enough to teach myself to play later on. 

You taught me to be objective and fair.  You taught me to love people.  You stuck with me when I was really, really bad.  And I only remember one spanking, because you had such strength, I rarely dared to cross you.

You NEVER EVEN ONCE said a disparaging word about my earthly father from the day he left us to this day, 45 years later.  (Thank you!) You've shown true love and courage every day of your life.

You always told me the truth.  When I came home one day from grammar school in tears because the older kids on the bus made fun of my "fire engine red socks,"  you said, "Well, they are fire engine red."

You showed me by example how to keep a healthy, pretty, and tidy home; how to be frugal and careful with resources. And,even though I'm not a fan of picking up dog litter with used napkins and paper towels, I follow your example of frugality in other ways.

You taught my brothers to be good, honest men, and when I reached an age when I was about to fly the nest, you reminded me that they were there to help me, and they were!

You caused me to think twice before making a very bad decision, then allowed me to make it and learn from it.

You were a friend to my friends.  They all loved to be around you.  And you often rescued them: when a friend's dog ran through a cake her mother was taking to an important function, you fixed it and it looked better than before, remember?

You took me to plays and art auctions . I learned.

You were good to your parents.  I admired.

You are creative and fun and smart. I watch.
You were a leader, a participant, a contributor and still are all these things!  I try to emulate you.

You are kind to animals.  Okay, except for rats and mice.

You tried to teach me to sew and bake pies.

You passed on a love for gardening.

When I was a child you told me (tongue-in -cheek) that all Jimmys were bad.  But later on, when I was asked out on a date by one of them, you said, "Who knows, it may be the most important day of your life."  And it was!

You gave me the book that introduced me to my Heavenly Father, The Hiding Place, by Corrie Ten Boom.  And later, while sitting by a pond in the woods, you assured me that you "know that you know, that the God of the Bible is for real."

You supported me every step of my life.  You sent me to college with your inheritance. You rescued me from losing my home with your investments, giving me time and grace to pay you back.

You helped me encourage my girls to be excellent women by giving them pet names like "Loving Wonderful."  and "Courageous Wonderful."   You taught them to love nature, games, books, classic movies, how to sew and cook and can; and to think about their future choices.  You contributed to their education over and over, through your own sacrifices, thereby demonstrating how to be a Grandmother who encourages the best in the next generation.  This I am trying to do as well.

Today, Mom, I got a letter from you with instructions on how to care for your body when your spirit is no longer occupying its lovely form.  You did this for my stepfather and for my sister, brothers and me.  You donated your beautiful body to others to use as was necessary.  In this you showed us all so much.

But don't you dare go to be with your Lord until you read and understand that your example is so admired and appreciated!  You are my hero.  My best hope is to be like you.  And when you are indeed with our Father, I will miss, honor and adore you (and the people you leave behind) until I join you.

This is summed up in a photograph I took of a magnet on your fridge.  

All my Love and Gratitude,
Becky