Author Archives: jphilo

Remembering Great Men this Memorial Weekend

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1109231 poppy Remembering Great Men this Memorial Weekend

Today’s post is an updated version of a piece written for Veteran’s Day, 2012. During the Christmas season, Uncle Leo was hospitalized after a fall. After a three month struggle, he died in early March of 2013. He is still dearly loved, deeply missed, and remembered with fondness.

Yesterday was Veteran’s Day, and in my world it went out with more of a whimper than a bang. However our state’s major newspaper, The Des Moines Register, in a moving salute to World War II vets, had the soldiers tell their stories in their own words.

That story, combined with the passing of my husband’s Uncle Harold, a World War 2 pilot last week, was a reminder of how little time remains for our nation to say thank you to the men and women who risked their lives in that great war. Here are the heroes in our family–some still living and some gone in the past few years–I am proud to call my uncles, and for whom I am grateful today.

Uncle Harold Remembering Great Men this Memorial Weekend

Harold Walker, Hiram’s story telling uncle, and pilot in the Pacific Theater near the end of the war. He died a little over a week ago.

Uncle Marvin Remembering Great Men this Memorial Weekend

Marvin Conrad, my piano-playing and very musical uncle. I believe he served in the Navy in World War 2. He died a little over two years ago, only a few months after visiting Washington, DC on one of the Freedom Flights.

Uncle Ordel Remembering Great Men this Memorial Weekend

Ordel Rogen, my cattle-raising uncle. He served in some branch of the armed forces in World War 2, though I’m not sure of the details. He died several years ago in December.

Uncle Leo Remembering Great Men this Memorial Weekend

Leo Hess, who tells harrowing tales of fighting during the Battle of the Bulge in World War 2. He celebrated his 90th birthday in August and still lives in his own home.

Uncle Jim Veterans Day Remembering Great Men this Memorial Weekend

Jim Hoey is my history-loving uncle. He was also a dedicated friend to my dad during his long struggle with multiple sclerosis. Jim served as a Navy medic in the Korean War. He turned 80 in June and still loves to travel and write letters to his grandkids and great-nephews and nieces.

Dear uncles, our thanks for your service is not enough, but it’s all we have to give. Thank you for fighting for freedom.

Because of you, our shared family histories continue.
Because of your sacrifice, our family is able to reunite in the summer to reminisce about old memories and create new ones.
Because of you, little children play without fear.
Because of you, elderly men and women are cared for and safe.
Because of you, we live in peace.
Because of you, we are who we are.
Because of you, we are blessed.
Because of you.

Three Thoughts for Thursday

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images Three Thoughts for Thursday

The tornado that roared through Moore, Oklahoma and flattened the Plaza Towers elementary school brought to life the worst nightmare of every teacher in the Midwest. Since it happened, these three thoughts have been running through my mind.

  1. Lord, whisper comfort and safety to the children who survived the tornado.
  2. Lord, wrap your arms around the teachers who are grieving because they couldn’t save every child in their care.
  3. Lord, may the parents who lost their beloved children in this tragedy know that you are weeping with them and that their children are safe in your presence for eternity.

It would be an honor to have you share your prayers for the residents of Moore, Oklahoma in the comment box.

Creamed Asparagus on Toast

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creamed asparagus on toast 1024x682 Creamed Asparagus on Toast

Yes, you read that right. Today’s post features an asparagus recipe, even though I do not like asparagus. Wait. That’s an understatement. I despise asparagus.

But last week a friend gave us a bag full of the despicable stuff. So the man of steel and Camp Dorothy namesake rustled up one of their favorite springtime meals. One of them had a wonderful time oohing and ahhing, smacking her lips and and saying, “Jo, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Then she bailed and left the other one on dishwasher duty while she watched Wheel of Fortune. Don’t ask me to name names because I’m not that kind of person.

This recipe is mostly guesswork (Translation: Mom didn’t use a recipe years ago when she taught us to make it.), but here’s my best guestimate at ingredient amounts and cooking times.

Creamed Asparagus on Toast

2 cups washed, fresh asparagus, cut into 1/2 inch lengths
2 tablespoons butter
2–3 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
1/2 cup ham, diced (optional)

Melt butter in sauce pan over medium heat. Add asparagus and ham. Saute for 2 minutes. Add flour and stir until the flour/butter mixture bubbles.

Add milk, a few tablespoons at a time, stirring well after each addition so the mixture doesn’t become lumpy. Stir constantly until mixture comes to slow boil. Turn down heat and boil for a minute or two. Serve over toast.

Top Ten Reasons to Love Spring

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10.

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The wild plum tree blooming across the road.

9.

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Blossoms on the cherry tree across the fence in the neighbor’s yard.

8.

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A white crab apple tree just about to burst into bloom.

7.

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Sunshine streaming through trees covered with new leaves.

6.

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White jonquils waving at the morning sun.

5.

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Red bud trees vibrant enough to take a person’s breath away.

4.

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A field of dandelions…next to someone else’s yard.

3.

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A red crab apple tree heavy with flowers.

2.

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A fairy ring of bleeding hearts.

1.

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A tulip festival in our own backyard.

What do you love about spring? Leave a comment!

 

 

 

Petticoat Envy

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Mad Men.

The show’s been hot for several years, but I didn’t start watching it until lately. It didn’t take long to get hooked, since the show’s first season is at about the time my first childhood memories kick in. We were a from a family of teetotalers, so I can’t speak for the drinking. But the hair styles, the furniture, the technology, and the unrestrained smoking are truly a blast from the past.

So are the petticoats.

And that is something I can speak about having been a bit of a petticoat connoisseur way back then. Though that may not be strong enough word to describe my preoccupation with petticoats. My heart’s desire was to have a petticoat poofy enough to make my dresses stick out like the dresses on the front of the patterns Mom bought at the dry good store.

But, to get that kind of poof required several petticoats. My sister and I each had one petticoat like the one pictured below. Rows and rows of gathered netting were stitched to the cotton outer petticoat. But to get quality poof, a second half-petticoat of almost pure netting could be slipped (hence the name slip) under the full petticoat.

Our family, like many others, couldn’t afford two petticoats per daughter. So our full skirts, along with those of most of the girls we knew, had more droop than poof. And that returns the conversation to the subject at hand. When those Mad Med actresses wear shirtwaist dresses with wide skirts, their clothes exhibit maximum poof. We’re talking not just two petticoats. But three. Maybe even four. And I covet every one of them.

Because I have petticoat envy.

And I’m not ashamed to admit it. In fact, if the show was casting extras for a crowd scene, I would audition in a heart beat. And I wouldn’t care if it was a non-speaking part. I wouldn’t care if they edited me out of any shot I was in. I wouldn’t care if the pay was lousy. Or nonexistent. As long as I walked away with a picture of me wearing a dress with enough petticoats to achieve maximum poof, I would be happy.

And resolved never to wear an under-petticoat again.

Because, if memory serves me right, those gathered layers of netting were extremely scratchy. So scratchy they went out of fashion and never made a come back. Except as an outside layer of foo-foo, a style which is way cute on a 6-year-old, but not nearly so cute on a 56-year-old.

Then again, it wouldn’t hurt to try one on…

Camp Dorothy Off to a Rocky Start

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Dorothea 1024x784 Camp Dorothy Off to a Rocky Start

Camp Dorothy is the place to be after a rocky start yesterday. Late Thursday morning, Mom and I thought we had the world by the tail after the doctor’s office completed her appointment and blood draw in record, painless time. We hopped in the car and headed to Ames for lunch.

Mom wanted to go to a restaurant that serves breakfast because a) she hadn’t eaten breakfast because the doc wanted a fasting blood draw, and b) she always wants to eat breakfast when we go out. Mom was practically salivating when we entered the Ames establishment, which shall remain nameless, at noon. We were seated quickly, and things went downhill from there.

  • When the waitress brought our coffee, she brought only one cup and a pot full of decaf for me. Nothing for Mom because, the waitress explained, they’d just started a new pot of regular. It would be done in a jiffy.
  • Then she said a different waitress was taking over our table.
  • Five minutes later, when the new waitress came to take our order, she didn’t bring Mom’s coffee. Mom looked as pathetic as possible while I explained how hungry AND THIRSTY my frail, elderly mother was. Our histronics made little impression on the waitress.
  • Five minutes later, Mom finally got coffee.
  • Five minutes after that, our orders came, and we dug in.
  • One minute later, I realized the cheese hadn’t been left off my salad as requested.
  • One minute after that, the waitress took my food back to the kitchen.
  • Ten minutes later, my new salad arrived just as Mom finished her meal.
  • While Mom watched me eat, she decided the strawberry-rhubarb piekin pictured on the table display looked mighty tasty, so she flagged down the waitress and ordered one for each of us.
  • Five minutes later, the strawberry-rhubarb piekins made us forget all about the rocky start to Camp Dororthy. While we ate them, we decided to go to breakfast at The Dutch Oven Bakery in Boone on Friday morning.

Because the camp director decided breakfast is the obvious theme for for this session of Camp Dorothy. To paraphrase what my then three-year-old son said to his daddy the first time they walked to the bottom of a roadside ditch to pee, “Camp Dorothy is gonna be fun!”

Three Thoughts for Thursday

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benedict cumberbatch star trek into darkness 682x1024 Three Thoughts for Thursday

  1. The Sunday paper featured an ad for sassy, sweet, tomato dipping sauce. In the olden days–say last week or so–we called that stuff ketchup. Or catsup. But never sassy, sweet, tomato dipping sauce.
  2. This spring the male eastern cicadas are emerging from their below ground man caves, an event that happens every 17 years. Apparently, the sex-starved fellas will wiggle their abdomens, at a decibel level irresistible to the females of their species, but maddeningly loud to the rest of creation. Sure sounds like the plot to a Star Trek movie to me.
  3. Speaking of Star Trek movies, I’m a big fan of Benedict Cumberbatch. Except I forget his name a lot and remember it as Bartholomew Cumberbund. No wonder he didn’t invite me to the movie’s premier.

What do you call sassy, sweet, tomato dipping sauce? Ketchup? Catsup? Or Bartholomew Cumberbund?

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Baked Lemon Shrimp

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Baked Lemon Shrimp 1024x682 Baked Lemon Shrimp

Isn’t that one of the prettiest main dishes you’ve ever seen? Baked Lemon Shrimp, a recipe passed along by my sister, is as easy to make as it is mouth-wateringly lovely. It’s also very healthy and low-cal. Almost too low-cal for the man of steel who polished off the shrimp, the scones, the roasted potato slices, and the roasted green beans that accompanied the meal. (Hey, when the oven’s on, I fill it!)

Here’s the sis’s recipe, which I cut by half. Considering the lack of left overs after supper, next time I’ll make the full recipe!

Baked Lemon Shrimp

2 pounds raw shrimp, with tails (I removed the tails before baking)
1 lemon, sliced thin*
1/4 cup olive oil
several garlic cloves, minced

Preheat oven to 350°. Arrange lemon slices on bottom of a cookie sheet. Spread the shrimp over the lemon. Pour oil over shrimp. Sprinkle minced garlic over all. Bake for 15 minutes. Serve immediately.

*We did not eat the lemon, but did scoop the juices onto the shrimp. Yum!

Top 10 Reasons to Leave the Cleaning Supplies in the Closet

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cleaning supplies 682x1024 Top 10 Reasons to Leave the Cleaning Supplies in the Closet

Please say I’m not the only person who can think of a host of reasons not to clean the house. Here’s my latest list of reasons to leave the cleaning supplies in the closet and do something else:

10.   The house will  just get dirty again. Funny, that one never worked with Mom, but I’m a sucker for it every time.

9.    I’d rather cook than clean.You can replace the underlined word with what you’d rather do than clean. Don’t overthink it. Just let the answer come to you.

8.    The house doesn’t look dirty. At night. When the lights are out. And the drapes are closed, along with my eyes.

7.    My allergies are acting up. And if they aren’t, I’ll invent some.

6.    The man of steel is not picky about how the house work. To paraphrase Monk, the OCD detective, this lack of motivation is a blessing…and a curse.

5.    The weather’s too nice to be cooped up inside. Plus, everyone’s outside, so who’s gonna notice the mess?

4.    No one wears white gloves anymore. Man, I hated that commercial. Who gave those white-gloved ladies permission to march into houses and run their gloved fingers along the top of somebody’s door molding, anyway? Talk about an invasion of privacy.

3.    I volunteered to host Book Club at the last minute. I love it when that happens. No time to clean.

2.   The kids won’t be here until Memorial Day. And if the house is clean if the house is too clean, they won’t recognize it.

1.   I have a book deadline to meet. True, the deadline isn’t until September 1, but a person can never start using an excuse as good as this one too early.

What are your best excuses to not clean the house? Leave a comment so everyone can add to their stash.

Meet Jane

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Jane1 696x1024 Meet Jane

Meet Jane.
Not quite this Jane.
But not quite not this Jane.
Meet this Jane, all grown up.

Jane’s the protagonist of the mystery novel I’ve been writing at the end of each day when my other serious writing is done. Her name is a deliberate harkening back to the Jane of Dick and Jane fame. Because in addition to being the solver of the mystery, Jane is an elementary school teacher.

But not just an ordinary elementary teacher.
She teaches in a country school.
In northwest South Dakota.
Kinda like I did way back when.

Except Jane isn’t exactly like me. For one thing, she’s single when she moves from Iowa to cowboy country in 1978. Which means she’s much more interested in getting to know cowboys up close and personal than I ever was.

Also, she has curly hair.
And freckles.
Plus she’s quite independent for a 21-year-old, fresh out of college.
And she doesn’t mind getting her clothes dirty.

She speaks her mind, too, more than I did way back then. She says all the things I wanted to say but didn’t ’cause nice young ladies didn’t say that kind of thing in 1978. Especially nice young ladies who want to keep teaching school in a very small community where everyone knows what everyone else is doing.

Jane’s not always a nice young lady.
She pokes her nose into places she shouldn’t.
She window peeks.
She sneaks around in pastures populated by bulls.

Even so, Jane’s a fun friend. Sometimes, I pull her out of the messes she gets into. When we’re together, it’s like going out west again. The wide, empty horizon opens before up. We smell the fresh, short-grass prairie air. But without a 15 hour drive to get there. Or 55 miles of gravel on the last stretch of road. Or any need for me to get dirty. Because Jane takes care of those kinds of things. That’s part of what makes her so fun to be with.

Go, Jane.
Go out west, Jane.
Out west is fun, Jane.
Go, Jane. Go have fun!