Go to the tree then come back to me and apple butter

This blog is dedicated to my mom and to the heroes in my life that I call my children both of whom I am beginning to understand more these days.





Apple Butter

Canning, sewing and sharing stories were part of my relationship with my mom. I miss her even more these days as these things become more and more a thing of the past.

6 good size apples (about 4 lbs)
2 cups water (add cider vinegar to 2 cups water for more tart flavor)
1/2 cup sugar for each cup pulp (measure later)
2 t. cinnamon
1 t. cloves
1/2 t allspice
1 T grated lemon rind
2 T lemon juice from the lemon

Wash apple, remove the stems, peel and quarter them. Simmer in water until soft, pour off the water and mash to a pulp being sure to pour off any additional water.
Measure the pulp and add sugar accordingly. Add seasonings and cook slowly increasing temperature until the mixure is thick and boiling. Stir as the mixture comes to a boil then remove from the heat. Add the lemon rind and juice and cook two more minutes. Put into sterilized jars and seal

Makes about 4 pints.



Go to the tree then come back to me

When I was old enough to walk to school by myself I was about two blocks from school but I had to cross a busy street (with a cross guard of course). The summer before my mom wanted me to get used to walking the way I had to go so I would be confident. I loved to take my little sister, Mary, for a walk. She was three so mom would let me walk her two houses down from us where there was a big tree then I was to come back. Her plan was always to teach me to overcome fear of things that are new in life by learning about them a little at a time. Being the adventurous child that I was, once I started school and could go "past the tree" to the end of the block, I was very confident. Perhaps too confident. One morning my mom was busy in the kitchen and I decided that if I had her very carefully walk behind me, the crossing guard would not see my little sister and I could take her to school with me. Quietly, I dressed her and told her to stay right behind me and off we went. When we got to the tree she looked at me as if to say "time to go back" but I told her it would be fun to go to school. It was about that time I heard my mother call my name. She was not angry (and probably not surprised) with my decision. She just took Mary by the hand and led her back home and sent me on my way to the amusement of the crossing guard.

I remembered that in a dream last night and it was so wonderful to see my mom's face and the understanding she always had of my quirkiness. I know that God has the perfect plan for all of us and sometimes we get off the path and he gently has to bring us back to where we need to be.

When my children were small, I tried to teach them some of the lessons my mom tried to teach me. I had three small children and a very sick husband so sometimes I was very tired after sewing into the night to supplement our income. My oldest was in Head Start preschool and I had a two younger babies too. One morning after putting my son on the school bus, I fell back asleep. My daughter who was three decided she wanted to go to school. She took her brother who was about eighteen months with her and they walked the one block to the Jr High down the street from us. She had a good reason. She loved hearing the band practice and when she woke from her nap every day they miraculously were playing in the street in front of our house. She had no way of understanding that it was part of her schedule and something I could predict but she could not control. I'm not sure why I woke up or what made me go outside but my heart jumped into my throat when I saw her leading her baby brother toward the house on her way home. A neighbor was watching from her porch and told me what she saw. The two babies were patiently sitting on the steps of the school when she walked past. She thought I was with them and they had gotten out of my sight until she saw them walking home again a few minutes later. They had crossed a street going east then a second going north to get to the steps! Two times they could have been hit by a car... I was horrified but did not panic. (Those of you who know me are laughing at the thought of me being calm... so maybe I did panic a just a little.)

That day I taught my little ones to ride the trikes and big wheels to the large oak tree about halfway down the block and when they got to the crack in the sidewalk to come back to me. It was good to see them still be a little adventurous and still be safe. One day they were old enough to walk past that tree, then the block and eventually they took paths I never dreamed they would. They held each others hands for a while then they took the hands of others who shared their dreams because that is what heroes do. They are there in your life, they bring something wonderful to your adventure and they rescue from the fears you have inside. Then one day, they are off on their own adventure and they have to go far beyond the tree... because that's what heroes do.

Acts 28:26 "Hearing you will hear and shall not understand; seeing you will see and not percieve". Thank you, oh Lord as you open my eyes to the things I did not understand and want so much to today.

Love,
Nana

If Friday is Good... what is Saturday? Tomb biscuits

This blog is dedicated to my husband, David. When I have my Fridays, he is with me and when my Saturdays come he is never far away. I am so thankful for the day he came into my life.








Tomb Biscuits

One package of flaky canned biscuits
Large Marshmellows


Separate the layers of each biscuit as close to the middle of the biscuit as you can. Insert a large marshmellow and seal the edges. Bake as usual and serve hot.When the biscuit is opened, the marshmellow is gone leaving the impression of an empty tomb.

If Friday is Good... what is Saturday?

Yesterday our calendars had the words "Good Friday" in the section that signifies a holiday or special occasion. It is the day most of associate with the death of Jesus Christ and the last Friday before we celebrate His resurrection on Easter Sunday. I first wrote my thoughts on this subject April 2, 2010. There have been many Fridays in my life in the last two years and many, many Saturdays. This blog has been a place of healing for me because it gives me a chance to voice what I feel in my heart but find it so difficult to share. That is what Good Friday is to me and I suspect it was like that for the followers of Jesus so many years ago. The shock and trama that is going on around us is sometimes overwhelming and even when we know in our hearts the final outcome will be something wonderful, the Friday when it is all coming down around us, it is so hard to get through some things. At some point, our Sunday comes and there is great joy and rejoicing as the broken heart we could barely tollerate grows and expands within us. Tears of sorrow turn to tears of joy but that is Sunday... what about Saturday? The time between great confusion and joy requires tremendous courage and faith to get through the Saturday of pain.

This week I was honored to hear, in her own words, the remembrance of a mother and of her Good Friday seven years ago. She tells us how she got through her own Saturday. Amy writes "when I think of Good Friday, I think of seven years ago when Connor was born on Good Friday... I've always said Good Friday was good for the fact he came into this world but it turned out to be not so good when the doctors came in and said he had 24 hours to live. He was still struggling but then on Easter Sunday a miracle was performed in our baby boy!! He made a HUGE improvement and the doctors were shocked! At that time, his dad and I gave him the title of "Champ" and he will always be our "Champ". " The miracle of life. The greatest miracle of all but she had to pray and be strong through the Saturday before the miracle unfolded before her eyes.

Susan Boyle has a beautiful song on her collection "Someone to Watch Over Me". You really should check it out. The first time I heard it, I thought of the many times it applied to me on my Saturdays. Today, as I listen to it, I think of how it could have been written for the Saturday after Good Friday by any of those who saw our savior bleed and die before them.

You Have to Be There (by Abba)

What is it more that you want that I am not seeing?
What in my ignorant prayer am I failing to say?
Never before have I questioned the truth of your being.
Never once have I dared. Never once until today.

All of a tremble I stand at the edge of confusion.
Who is to save me if into the darkness I fall?
Now that I need more than ever my God to be near me,
do you hear when I call? Are you there after all.

You have to be there, you have to,
without you I'd drown in the deep.
And without you I am drifing on a dark and stormy sea.

You have to be there, you have to,
without you I'd drown in the deep...
too far, too far from land the waters drag me down,
I reach for your hand.

And when I die, who will open His arms to receive me?
Who will forgive me and take me to show me His face?
When I have gone to my rest, will you watch me and wake me?
When my time comes at last, will you grant me your grace?

I am so small on this earth.. I'm nothing without you.
Daring to doubt you at all is a knife in my heart.
Little by little I'm loosing my way in the shadows.
I am loosing my hold and the world falls apart.

You have to be there, you have to my life I have placed in thy keep and without you I am drifing on a dark and stormy sea. You have to be there you have to without you'd I'd drown in the deep. Too far, too far from land. The waters drag me down, I reach for your hand.

In my past blog entry on this subject, I spoke of a painful Friday and how we were going through our own Saturday as a family. We were waiting for the birth of a little girl after feeling the sadness when the baby before her was called back to heaven. Aveline is so full of joy. She is eighteen months old now and she sings songs we don't understand the words to and laughs at jokes we don't quite get. Over the past few weeks, her words have become easier to understand. This week, her mother recognized the tune she was singing to "dah saa ah weee meee MEEE"... Amazing Grace. I never thought of that as an Easter song but now that I think about it, to save a "wretch like me". I can't think of anything that actually describes our Saturdays better. We are lost and blind until Sunday comes and His face shines on us and we once more experience the miracle of Sunday. Have a blessed Easter. You are loved.

Luke 24:1 "Now on the first of the week, very early in the morning, they and certain other women with them came to the tomb bringing the spices which they had prepared. But they found the stone rolled away from the tomb". He has risen...he has risen indeed.

Love,
Nana

There's a mouse in the house and birthday cupcakes.

This blog is dedicated to Ashton who celebrates his first birthday today. My great-grandson is a handsome lad.








Birthday Cupcakes

One box of cake mix makes 36 cupcakes. That is all you need to know for this story besides don't forget to buy the birthday paper liners and candles. Kids may not mind if the frosting is thin or if they are vanilla instead of chocolate but don't forget those candles!

There's a mouse in the house

I saw a shiny new 50 gallon galvanized trash can the other day and the sight brought back a special memory for me. With most cities furnishing some sort of rubber container for homeowners to dump our trash in, we don't see the tall aluminum trash cans as often any more but in the early 70's a shiny trash can was a sure sign that you were a new homeowner, a newly wed couple or both. We were both. I was quite pregnant when we moved into our first home and even more aware of strange sounds in the night than usual. We went to bed after a long day working in our kitchen making the modifications we needed to in order for the washer and dryer to be delivered the next day. After we fell asleep I was awakened by a sound that was sort like a sonar "ping" you might hear on an old submarine movie. After hearing it several times, I woke up my husband to see what it was. He listened, it did not happen again so we both went back to sleep.

The next morning, we went into the kitchen to continue our work and I heard it again! This time, so did he. We listened again and the sound came again from the area near the basement steps. Jimmy did the "manly" thing of taking one step forward while with his hand motioning for me to take one step back. Who or what could possibly be in our basement? Just as he was ready to swing open the door, the "ping" came from the trash can! He carefully lifted the lid just as a tiny mouse jumped straight up from the bottom of the trash can. We both jumped about six feet backward as he put the lid back on the trash can. After we stopped laughing, he carried the trash can into the back yard and lifted the lid as he tilted the can so the next jump gave the little mouse freedom.

Time changes so many things. The strong become weak, the weak become strong in a different way. Silver replaces the dark hair of our youth but nothing can take away the memories in our hearts. Though love ones may pass even as babies are born, those tiny glimpses into the past are sometimes all we need to go on to the next part of our journey. I am abundantly blessed with so many beautiful moments and I am grateful.

Today baby Ashton is one. He lives far away from me but I am grateful for the time I got to spend with him and his parents two weeks ago. His mom is my honey-girl... Paige. My first grandchild and the joy of my heart. His dad is Brandon. He seems to be a fine young man who is totally in love with his family. I am sure he would be there to defend them also if there is ever a mouse in their house.

Luke 12:22 "do not worry about your life; what you will eat or your body what you will put on.. (33)a treasure in the heavens does not fail, where no thief approaches or moths destroys. For where you treasure is, there will your heart be also." My treasures are safe. His love is eternal. That's all I need to know.

Love,
Nana