Quilting

Unbeknownst to many people I am a quilter. Not by profession, strictly a hobby. 

I am not trained, nor do I belong to a Quilters guild, or club, this is strictly therapeutic. I feel no need to have my work exhibited, or critiqued, or criticized, or analyzed. This is an outlet and one that is totally mine and a reflection of me. My children will be the only ones who ever benefit, if that's what you call it, from this happy endeavor.  

I stumbled upon this by accident years ago. 

I like to sew, but lost interest in making my own clothes as I got older, and my body changed, and I was no longer a perfect size 10. Patterns required more alteration, and I found I could go buy what I wanted for so much less time and hassle, and yes, even cheaper; go figure.  

One of the aspects of Home Ec. class that I enjoyed in school was the 6 wk segment on decorating, and learning to sew accents for your home. This is something I appreciated when we moved into our first apt. I made curtains, pillows, etc. long before it was so vogue to do so. 

I began my journey into quilting making baby quilts for friends, dear friends, who's little's were going to be as important to me as my own family. I loved it when I found out that those little's loved the quilts I made, carrying them everywhere, and using them till they actually wore out. I  loved fabric, and the feel and textures it brought, and I loved making things that were useful to people. 

Over the years I have made dozens of baby quilts, and even started making flannel receiving blankets for little's that were larger than the ones you bought in the store and was told again and again how wonderful the bigger ones were for those little ones. 

I was hooked. Doing something I loved, and being rewarded by hearing how helpful and useful what I made was to folks. It was a perfect fit.  

I never ventured into larger quilts as I didn't have a quilting frame, they took up a lot of room. If I made them at all, I tied them. like the one I made for my sister. 

Back seven or eight years ago, I received a phone call from the Pastor at our church. The fire marshal had been out on inspection and all the quilting things from the former quilters group at our church was going to have to go. If I didn't want it and come get it, it was going to the dump. 

Back when my children were little, and we started attending our church, there were a group of older ladies who gathered one Tues of every  month and made quilts to be auctioned off at the churches university in Olathe for scholarships. As each of those ladies grew too old to continue the tradition, their materials, notions, and quilting frame sat idle in a back room at the church.

I loaded up and went out to get all the totes - 8 of them - full of fabric, kits, cut out quilt pieces, scissors, tape measures, marking pens, pins, instructions, and on and on and on. I sorted, and sifted and cleaned out and after giving away all the fabrics that were not appropriate for quilts, had 5 totes left. 

It might have been overwhelming to some, but I was like a alcoholic in a liquor store. I was drowning in fabric, ideas, and materials to sew and quilt till the day I died; literally.  

I found a quilt kit with the top that needed to be embroidered, but no floss; they had used it on something else. It was a tree of life, that I knew by looking at it would be beautiful in the right colors. I bought floss and began the process. I found the perfect backing material in a Jacobean print of muted tones, that literally sat for years waiting for me to finish embroidering the top. In between I made baby quilts, even a rather complicated one for our first grandchild. 

 I would embroidery in the evenings when the light was not good, and quilt during the day on my little embroidery hoop. 

As I completed projects they began to stack up on the king size bed in Audrey's bedroom. A baby quilt, two regular size quilts, even a bedspread. 

On my 60th birthday Audrey surprised me with a quilting frame. Not just any quilting frame, a adjustable, tilting, fancy, expensive quilting frame that I had been drooling over. Now I had no excuse not to finish those quilts. 

My first project was the Tree of Life quilt. The quilting lines were printed on it, and I figured it was a sure fire way to get off to a good start, and I was right. It was a job, but it was enjoyable, and I loved working on it. It didn't seem to take any time at all. 

As I worked on it, I realized what I had been missing by having a quilting frame. I was delighted to be able to see my work in such a broad scope, or at least what I thought of as broad. 

It afforded me such a bigger picture than the little hoop that I had used in the past. 

I worked diligently, and the entire quilt was finished in a matter of months.  

The next project was one of a little more complicated nature. 

It was a Texas Star quilt in red's, white's and blues, in pieces, partially put together. As I began to look at it more closely, and lay it out to see what else I might need, I became acutely aware that I would have to rip out what had been sewn and start completely over. The stitches were uneven and puckered, and it was lacking some diamonds, plus, what was I going to fill in the corners and middle sections with? 

As I began to scour for fabric, I found exactly what I needed, and purchased the backing and batting to get started. 

It has turned out great! Just what I wanted, I've just taken it off the frame, so am allowing it to rest a bit, but the binding is already cut and I will have that done shortly.  

In the mean time while I was working on this, I made a miniature quilt out of some dutch doll blocks that my mother made when she was just a little girl. It turned out beautiful as well, and will be the perfect addition to the wall in my office.  

This is an abbreviated version of my quilting exploits thus far. But I have to say that with each project finished, I am feeling more accomplished, and satisfied.  

The Orange Rolls

Holidays at our house mean lots of cooking, but perhaps the one thing that everyone looks forward to Mom making more than any other are the Orange Rolls we have for Christmas breakfast.

I received an e-mail this year from a friend requesting the Orange Roll recipe and thought I should post it here as well. There is a history in bread making for me. You see, when I took Home Economics in High School my teacher told us the first day of my freshman year:

“ If you can learn to make bread, any kind of bread, yeast bread, quick breads, muffins, biscuits, you can learn to make anything. There is a science in bread making, especially yeast breads—master those and you will be able to cook anything else you want.”

We spent our first 6 weeks of cooking class making breads, every shape, size and description. Some I have made ever since, others I never made again, but she was right, learning how to make bread gave me the confidence to cook other things.

When you make bread you have to be willing to get your hands in it, flour all over your apron, and maybe even on your face. But there is nothing that you will make that will bring smiles to the faces of the people you love like bread, any kind of bread, fresh from the oven.

Surveys have shown that one of the most comforting scents to most people is the smell of bread baking……..need I say more?

Merry Christmas!

Glazed Orange Rolls

4 ½ cups all-purpose flour

1 pkg active dry yeast

1 cup milk

½ cup sugar

3 T. butter or margarine

3 eggs

In a large mixing bowl combine 2 cups of the flour and the yeast. Heat milk, ½ cup suger, 3 T. butter, and ½ t. salt till warm (115-120o), stirring to melt butter. ( If you can dip your finger into the mixture and it feel really warm but not HOT, it is ready—too hot will kill your yeast). Add to dry mixture; add eggs. Beat at low speed with the mixer for ½ min., scraping bowl. Beat 3 min. at high speed. Stir in enough remaining flour to make a moderately soft dough. Knead on a floured surface till smooth (3-5 min). Place in an oiled bowl; turn once to coat. Cover; let rise till double (1-1 ½ hours). Punch down; divide in half. Cover; let rest 10 min.

While your dough is rising. Mix:

 6 Tablespoons butter, softened

½ cup granulated sugar

1 ½ tsp. shredded orange peel

Roll each half to 12X8-inch rectangle. Spread the butter mixture over dough. Roll up, staring with the long side; seal seams. Slice each into 12 rolls. (I use a piece of sewing thread to cut my rolls. Take the two ends, hold them apart, slide it up under the rolled up dough, and then cross the ends over, and it will cut the rolls without crushing them.) Place in greased 9x1 ½ in. round baking pans. Cover; let rise till double (about 1 ½ hrs.) Bake at 375 degrees for 15-20 min. Remove from pan immediately. Place right side up on plate or large piece of aluminum foil.

While rolls are baking, combine:

1 ½ cups sifted powdered sugar

2 to 3 tablespoons orange juice

While rolls are still warm, drizzle glaze over them. Make 24 rolls.

(I don't always remove mine from the pan. :)

The Tablecloth

Her things are always in my house; her coffee table and end table, dishes, pots, kitchen utensils. There is even a fleece jacket of hers that I wear almost every day during the winter, but I guess I’ve grown accustomed to having those things.

These are new. Tablecloths. I have a whole pile of them. Anita brought them up. Lace, linen, some Mother made, and many we bought her; one in particular stands out to me. She never used it much, said it didn’t fit the table for large groups, but I always loved it; the smoothness of the linen, the formality of it with just enough whimsy of fun in that trial of pale green shamrocks.

The things I was taught in the use of table clothes. Use the formal ones with the china, the bright printed ones with the Fiesta ware, for family dinners. There were others for Sunday after church dinners, parties with friends.

Much discussion always went into which one to use on which occasion. Did it hang right, was it the right color, and was it to short, too long? Dressing a table took forethought and preparation. It was a statement to your guests as they walked in your door.

“I’m ready for you!”
“I’m so glad you’re here!”
“I’ve planned something special just because you are coming.”

With the advent of Formica top tables, and polyurethane finishes, tables don’t need the protection of a table cloth or covering so much anymore. Placemats have also taken the place of table cloths. Shoot, people seldom drag out the china, and candle sticks anymore, if they entertain at all.

I didn’t realize that there was anything to doing it properly until I had Roger help me one time and he didn’t have a clue….he didn’t know the crease needs to run straight down the center of the table, the ends need to be even, to really do it correctly, you need a partner on the other end to get it centered just so. You don’t just “slap” a tablecloth on the table; you put something under it to protect the table. She went to far as taking old mattress pads and making table pads for her tables. She made special hangers to hang the cloths on in the closet after she had washed and ironed them so they would stay wrinkle free and ready to dress out the table at a moment’s notice.

As I went through the stack and looked at each one, I remembered them, and I remembered the times we used them, and I remembered her. I remember being taught to be particular about how you do things, pay attention to details--they matter, somethings go together, and somethings just don't, protect and take care of your things, they are worth it, be prepared for company, make people feel special, sometime it take more than two hands to do something right, and "yes, the crease being straight matters". As I look at that stack I miss my mother. I’m thankful for my Mother and all the simple life lessons that she taught me by simply teaching me the how’s and whys of using a table cloth.

Sweet Potato Biscuits

It is the time of year for hot soup and hot breads--together is possible.



This recipe was given to me by one of the beauticians who used to do mother's hair.
Sweet Potato Biscuits

2 c. flour
4 t. baking powder
1 t. salt
2/3 c. sugar
1/2 c. melted butter or margarine
2 c. mashed sweet potatoes
1/4 c. milk

Mix the dry ingrediants, work in the melted butter and sweet potatoes, turn out on a floured board, knead a few times, pat or roll out and cut into biscuits. Bake in a 450 degree oven for 12-15 min.

Note: I used canned sweet potatoes, and drain them WELL. This makes a wet dough, and you will have to work what may seem like a goodly amount of flour into it as you knead it, work only what you must to make it manageable. They will hit the spot, and as far as a perfect taste combination, you can't get any better than these with Cheesy Ham Chowder

By the handful......Grandma Wolf's homemade bread

I have written earlier on this blog about my Grandmother Wolf, the one that in her life time by feeding a family of 7 children and the hired hands that always helped with harvest, fed an entire army.

As she got older and she didn’t feel as good as she wanted and she would get an occasional vitamin B12 shot. That is when Dr’s did that sort of thing. It would help, and she would feel better…..for awhile.

Discussing it with Mother, and I’m sure the other Aunts and Uncles she decided she needed to start making her own bread again. “Bakers bread” just didn’t have what she needed as the quintessential source of the Vitamin B she obviously needed.

Grandma had made homemade bread all of my mother’s life, but she didn’t have a recipe. Something as common and everyday as bread was something you just……did. When asked about a recipe, Grandma would smile, and shrug her shoulders, she just made it. But when pressed, “HOW do you know Grandma?” She measured the flour and other dry ingredients by handfuls, liquids with a coffee cup, poured the salt into her hand………there was no written evidence of Grandma Wolfs homemade bread.

She began, once again, making her bread. Living by herself, she began giving that “extra loaf” away. Mother and I received a loaf every week. Warm and buttered it was…….beyond description……..and not even close to anything you could buy anywhere. This was back before the “artisan bread” craze and bread machines etc.

We relished it. Mother would freeze it, and get it out for company dinners and people would rave about the taste, the texture……..the memories it would conjure up for each and every one, of days when bread was the staff of life……….literally.

It was becoming obvious that a day of bread making, and “writing it down” was in someone’s future. I don’t remember exactly when it happened but I do know that Mother made a day when she went up to Grandma’s and as they made the bread, they took what was in the hand and the coffee cups, put it in measuring cups, writing it down and a recipe was born.

Mother then tried it, over and over; always saying “It isn’t as good as Mama’s”. I never saw or tasted any differences. It was good, always good. Full of texture, rich in flavor and melt in your mouth delicious.

My niece ask if I had the recipe the other day, and of all the things that SHOULD appear on this blog, this is one of them. Thank you DeLynne for reminding me of this, a staple of our family heritage.

Grandma Wolf’s Homemade Bread

1 pkg. of dry yeast
1/3 c. warm water
1 tsp. sugar
2 1/2 c. warm water
1/3 c. sugar
2 tsp. salt
1/3 stick margarine
5 c. white flour
1 c. whole wheat flour (for white bread use 6 c. white flour only)
1 c. wheat germ
Melted shorting for top

Mix water and sugar. Add yeast. Let stand 10 minutes. Add 2 ½ c. water, 1/3 c. sugar, salt and margarine. Mix well. Add white flour, wheat flour, and what germ. Mix and knead until springy, about 5 minutes. Brush top with shortening and let rise until double: work down and let rise again. Make into loaves, and let rise. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Makes 2 regular or 3 small loaves.

A perfect combo.......

Well, I apologized for being away so long, and I DO intend to change that and post here with more regularity, BUT I have been very busy sewing, sewing sewing, projects that I won't post for fear the wrong people see them ;)

In the mean time, the chill in the air always makes me want soup with some sort of hot bread. Crock pots were invented for people like me who have projects going and babies to rock, so you can fix dinner and forget it.

Here is a new one--oh so easy and with the Sweet Corn Muffins is the perfect combo....

Winter Veggie Soup

1 lb. hamburger, browned and drained
2 cans of stewed tomatoes
2 cans of tomato sauce
1 package of dry onion soup mix
1 can of beef broth & 1 can of water
1 small package of frozen corn
1 small package of frozen carrots and peas
1 bay leaf
2 tsp of minced garlic
2 tsp salt

After browning the meat, place all the ingrediants in the crock pot (it makes a full pot) stir, set on high and cook for 7-8 hours.

Serve with:

Golden Sweet Corn Muffins
1 c. flour
1/2 c. sugar
1 T. baking powder
1/2 t. salt
1 c. frozen thawed whole-kernal corn
2 eggs
1/2 c. milk
1/2 c. butter, melted

In a large bowl mix flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder and salt. Add corn; toss to coat. In a small bowl beat eggs with fork; beat in milk and butter. Add to corn mixture; stir just until blended. Fill greased muffin cups 2/3 full (I use cupcake paper liners) Bake in preheated 400 degree oven until pick inserted in center comes out clean--15-25 min. for muffins, 30-35 min. for a 9 in. square corn bread.

These stir up really quick, but I will warn you to watch them, as they can not be done, and then get too brown. A green salad would be good too, but not necessary as there are plenty of veggies.
Enjoy!

Family, Freedom and a Future....

This is the year that several of my friend’s oldest childen are moving out of the house and going to college. This is usually considered an opportunity by some for the freedom to pursue the future they have always dreamed of in one form or another.

I spoke with one young woman who is actually opting to live in the dorm while residing in the same town she grew up in so that (in her own words) “I will be close enough to watch and participate in my younger sisters growing up” (she has four younger sisters and her youngest sister is 7).

I couldn’t help but be struck by this as I remember my older sisters looking at going off to college as almost as much of an escape from home and mother as they did the adventure it afforded. I never got the impression they ever looked back, but if they did it was with a sense of relief they were leaving.

I remember being the one left behind………..more than once actually, the perils of being youngest I guess, but as I got older, I was almost as anxious for them to go as they were. You see we were four girls living in the upstairs of a small house and shared two bedrooms. When someone left, everyone sort of spread out, with you eventually getting your own room. That was considered a perk. In a one bathroom house, it was also considered a perk to have one less person to try to fit in front of the mirror in the mornings.

Things have changed so much now a day. Just about the time our kids were old enough to care we moved into a big beautiful new house where they each had their own bathroom—no sharing, no waiting—something their Dad was adamant about when the plans were drawn up (he grew up in a family of 9—one bath).

One of the homeschooling blogs I read has a family of 9 children, one boy, and eight girls. The girls decided that they wanted a home library bad enough that they sacrificed one of the bedrooms for it, turning the one bedroom all the girls now share into something akin to an army barracks with bunks stacked 3 high.

I found all this interesting because obviously the joy found by some at sharing a room, bathroom, and smaller house is different than that of others. Separation is something that is loathed, and decidedly avoided if possible. Perhaps it is the individuals, perhaps it is the parents, perhaps it is the times, or a little of all three.

Whatever it is, it gave me pause at this young woman’s attachment to her younger siblings to the point that she would alter her opportunities (she got a full ride to a university 8 hours away) just to remain close to her siblings and their activities. Somewhere along the line she got the message that you can have it all—family, freedom, and a future.

Good for her!

As per request…………..Garlic Beef Enchiladas

This isn't an original recipe, I got it out of an OLD Taste of Home magazine years ago, but it turned out to be one of out absolute favorites. It does, however, make a nice big batch so I don't make it that often since the kids are gone.......but you can sure bet I try to have it everytime they are home which makes them special. Hope you like them too!

1 lb. ground beef (or you can substitute 1 lb. of thinly sliced chicken)
1 med. Onion
2 T. flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp garlic powder (NOT SALT!!!)
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp. rubbed sage
1 can (14 ½ oz.) stewed tomatoes (I use the Delmonte brand of Mexican flavored)

In skillet over medium heat, cook meat and onion until meat is no longer pink; drain. Add flour and seasonings; mix well. Stir in tomatoes and bring to a boil. Reduce your heat; cover and simmer for 15 min.

MEANWHILE…………………

Sauce-
4-6 garlic buds
1/3 c. butter or margarine
½ c. flour
1 can (14.5 oz.) beef broth
1 can (15 oz.) tomato sauce
1-2 T. Chili Powder
½ tsp. ground cumin
½ tsp. sage
½ tsp. salt

Sauté’ garlic in butter until tender. Stir in flour until blended. Gradually stir in broth; bring to a boil. Cook and stir for 2 min. or until bubble. Stir in tomato sauce and seasonings, heat through. Pour 1 ½ c. sauce into ungreased 13X9 in. baking dish.

Assembly of enchiladas-

10 flour tortillas (7-10 in. depending on how many servings you want)
2 c. shredded Co-Jack cheese

Spread about ¼ c. of meat mixture down the center of each tortilla; top with 1-2 T. cheese, roll up tightly; place seam side down over sauce. Pour remaining sauce over top of enchiladas, cover and bake for 30-35 min. Remove foil, sprinkle the remaining cheese over top, and bake uncovered for an additional 10-15 min. or until the cheese is melted.

I like to serve this with a green salad that has those tiny bell peppers, avocadoes, tomatoes and little green onions with that Ranch Salsa dressing. It’s ALWAYS a hit believe me.

Memorial Day Memories

Memorial Day has come and gone, and I want to preface this particular post by saying that if any of my sisters have anything to add here, please do.

Losing family members to untimely death at an early age seems to bring certain things into sharper focus for you even during childhood.

My Grandmother Horack lost her mother as a small child and she and her brother and Dad were “raised”, i.e.,taken care of, by her aunt Caroline, and her grandmother. She and my grandfather married and had three children, one, my aunt’s twin brother died at six months of age being born with a hole in his heart, which in those days wasn’t something they were skilled to do anything about. Having lost loved ones, throughout her entire life time, especially a child, made my Grandma someone who frequented the cemetery with regularity. She planted flowers on the graves, preferring peonies that would bloom around Memorial Day every year, ensuring that there would always be flowers on the graves, even after she was gone.

As a little girl I remember my Grandma Horack loading my cousin JoAnn and I up in her little 55 Chevy, with jars full of water, going by and picking up her friend Gertrude, and heading to the cemetery to “tend” the graves. We would deadhead the peonies that had bloomed that year giving them a drink, and clean up any weeds or debris that accumulated around the grave stones. While we did this Grandma talked about those people who were buried there, she told and retold the stories of how our ancestors came over on the boat from Europe. How Great-Great Grandmother Somer had decided to wean the baby before the trip thinking it would make things easier, only to have them run out of drinking water on the voyage, and her sharing her allotment with the infant. The struggles they experienced in carving out a life on the prairie. How our Great-Great Grandpa Somer, after coming to America, didn’t find it to his liking and left his wife and children behind returning to Bohemia, thus no grave beside our Great-Great Grandmother. How our Great Grandfather Horack was so poor that when he died they buried him in what they referred to as “potters field”, a section of the cemetery where there are no stones because poor people could afford none, and by the time someone could have afforded one, no one could remember just exactly where Grandpa Great was buried. As she would pull a weed or water a plant, or wash the bird droppings off the stones, these stories coupled with the pictures on the wall of her home, or in frames on her dresser made the people real.

Memorial Day wasn’t the only day of the year we went to the cemetery, oh no! In the summer when the weather was especially hot, and we hadn’t had enough rain, we would load up and take water out to the cemetery to water the flowers that she had planted earlier in the year, or in the years before. Tending the graves was a responsibility that she didn’t take lightly. Passing on the history of those people was something that brought her joy. She would tell stories of my dad, as we tended his grave, and talk about my grandpa. However, I noticed she spoke little of Paul, my aunt’s twin, that was too deep a wound to remember. But I always noticed that she would prepare a special bouquet for his grave on Memorial Day.
These were not sad times, quite the contrary, these were wonderful times. It brought Grandma and her friend great joy to reminisce about the days gone by when sorrows of losing loved ones were frequent enough that death was just a part of life that you wove into the everyday tapestry, adding the dark colors to offset the light ones.

After Grandma died, my mother and I continued to go to the cemetery. As a young girl I would ride my bike the mile outside of town to the cemetery, checking the graves, breaking off the dead heads of the peonies as grandma had taught me. I would pull a weed, and knock the bird droppings off the stones remembering the stories she had told over and over.

When Roger and I go to the Ozarks to visit Roger’s brother, we always stop by the cemetery where Roger’s parents are buried. Roger’s mother was cremated, and we planted a tree over her ashes, so we check on the tree to see if it is still alive....it is. When we were first married Roger thought I was kind of strange for wanting to go home for Memorial Day. He didn’t get it. He does now.

I think the tradition of tending to the dead, and their graves are something we learned from the Bible when the women returned to Jesus’ tomb to anoint His body. Care was given to the dead, a sign of respect, regard for their memory. The joy that comes in visiting the cemetery is the constant reminder that your loved ones aren’t really there. Grandma knew this, but she also knew that by taking us there, she was teaching us respect for our ancestors, and regard for their memory. She was instilling in us a sense of family that she knew would continue on down through the generations.
I learned a lot going to the cemetery with my Grandmother. I learned that remembering the dead can be something pleasant. It can bring you comfort. It reminds you of the ones that have gone before you and battled through. It teaches that death is a part of life, not the end, but a part. It brings you strength. It brings you comfort. It gives you roots and wings. I think Grandma knew this, and that is why she started us young. A foundation of family, living or departed, is never a bad thing.

The Best Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe in the World

Well, O.K. maybe not, but that was the title of it on the internet when I found it and I am inclined to agree. It makes about 6 dozen cookies. That means we can have some to eat, and I can still stash some in the freezer. After I made it the first time I was sold! and won't go back, no I won't go back to the old recipe on the back of the bag!

Imagine my joy when after Mother passed away, I found this exact same recipe in one of her recipe boxes, cut out of a magazine or a newspaper. She knew the secret all along........

AWARD WINNING SOFT CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

4-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 t. baking soda
2 cups butter, softened
1-1/2 cups packed brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
2 (3.4 oz.) pkgs instant vanilla pudding mix
4 eggs
2 t. vanilla extract
4 cups semisweet chocolate chips
2 cups chopped nuts (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Sift together the flour and baking soda; set aside.
In a large bowl, cream together the butter, brown sugar, white sugar, and beat in instant pudding mix until blended.
Stir in the eggs and vanilla.
Blend in the flour mixture.
Finally, stir in the chocolate chips and nuts.
Drop cookies by rounded teaspoons onto ungreaased cookied sheets. Bake for 10-12 min.
Edges should be a little brown.

ENJOY!

For Kids.....large and small...Merry Christmas!

I inherited the nativity scene that we grew up with. I remember rearranging the figures, and playing out the Christmas Story of how Mary and Joseph came to be in the stable. I love nativity scenes, now with Mother's we have two. They are the central focus of our Christmas. I found the following both amusing, and touching, and know the younger crowd will probably enjoy this short "cartoon". Oh, you'll need to pause the music.

Christmas Differences

When I started this blog, it was with the intention of sharing some things about what life was like after kids, and caregiving. This is one of those blogs..........
All the blogs I look at every day are featuring what their writers and their families are doing in preparation for Christmas. Lovely pictures posted of peoples homes, and their family decorations, and traditions show the excitement and anticipation of the holiday. One woman has had shoulder surgery, and her husband and kids are still doing all the decorating! Some of the homes are absolutely beautiful!

I haven’t decorated a thing for Christmas this year. The only Christmas decoration I have in my house at this moment is the calendar picture in my office.

I had convinced myself that since the kids were not going to be home for Christmas this year that there was no reason to “drag” out all the Christmas decorations. Oh, I would put up the Nativity scene, after all isn’t that what Christmas is REALLY about?

Then I talked to Audrey the other night and she said she wasn’t going to put their Christmas tree up, the apt just wasn’t big enough. I thought “You have to decorate! It will be depressing for you if you don’t put up some Christmas stuff!”

Ryan has a phrase for Audrey and I that he coined early in their relationship and it is right on the money “Pot, meet Kettle, Kettle, meet pot.” as he looks back and forth between us. In other words we are A LOT alike.

As I heard my daughters reason for not decorating this year, and didn’t deem it worthy of denying them the festiveness of the holiday, simply because of space, I heard myself in her voice, only the reason was just a different one.

I realized that I needed to get to the bottom of this “not NEEDING to decorate” excuse and determine where it is coming from.

Granted my children live a long way away and won’t be home for Christmas, and my mother passed away in Jan. and this is our first Christmas without grandma. Yes, Roger and I will be home by ourselves……… These are what many people would deem legitimate reasons for not decorating and getting into the holiday festiveness by putting up a bunch of Christmas decorations. However, as I was making the bed this morning, and pulling the covers up on my husband’s side of the bed, I was reminded I am not the only one missing our kids over the holiday, and missing that little short woman we called Granma, and Mama.

Roger and I have reached a stage in our lives where we are probably going to be spending a lot of holidays, Christmas included, by ourselves. Am I going to simply stop celebrating the birth of my Savior and all that it implies because there isn’t a crowd around and because my circumstances have changed? Am I going to, as my mother would have said, “throw the baby out with the bath water”?

After a little “come to Jesus” meeting, I had to apologize, and tell Him that I would be getting ready for his party just like usual. I came to realize that even at the age of 53, I was still making Christmas about me. Oh yes, I could celebrate it in a grass hut with no decorations or in a beautifully decorated house on a hill, but what would be the motivation and attitude of my heart in either circumstance? Now I know that Christmas isn’t in the decorating, and the baking, and the gift giving, and tree trimming, but all those things are a representation of the preparation for the coming of our Savior. He was the biggest and best gift; ours are simply cheap reminders of what God did for us. But all these things done in the right heart attitude (yes I said ATTITUDE!!) are symbols to the outside world of the party we have every year at the birth of our Savior.

I’ve also decided that I am going to view my decorations that I have put out the same way year after year in a new light, and maybe shake things up a bit. Maybe I won’t put the entire tree up, but that doesn’t mean I can’t display some favorite ornaments in a fashion that will make us smile and remember who is coming.

Paul reminds the Thessalonians in the second letter to them: “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

After all, by myself or in a crowd, Jesus is my Savior and THAT is worth being joyful, giving thanks and celebrating.

P.S I'm still trying to find the song Tijuana Christmas by the Border Brass to add to our song list, in the meantime hope you enjoy the Christmas music :)

It truly is an amazing time.....

I don't know who this guy is, and I don't watch Conan, but when Roger and I watched this we both laughed out loud, because that is the way it was, and the way it is.
Hope it makes you laugh too. You will probably have to pause the music to listen.

I actually remember when we used to call Daddy and Mother at the Hardware store and there was NO dial on the phone.
You picked it up and it went something like this:
"Operator, Number please"
"68"
"Thank you"
and we were connected to Horack Hardware and Electric.
Lily Tomlin on Laugh In doing the whole operator routine, wasn't that far from fact back then.