by jphilo | Jan 6, 2012 | Family
Anne Socks.
When the original post on this topic went up on March 17, 2009 I wasn’t trying to start a series. I mean, think about it. Would anyone other than footwear manufacturers be interested in sock serialization?
Not usually.
Therefore, the title of today’s post is a bit of a surprise to me. As was my daughter’s Christmas present. A pair of my very own, custom-made, cable knit Anne Socks. Unlike the pair pictured in the March, 2009 post, these socks actually match. And they’re made of a silk/wool blend that doesn’t scratch my tender tootsies in the least.
I love them.
So does Anne. That’s why I shamelessly posed and allowed her to take pictures. Though there’s a risk my feet will go viral and our family’s privacy will be a thing of the past, the world needs to see her handiwork. So she’ll be posting my feet encased in her handiwork on her etsy site in an attempt to generate income and/or paying customers.
Anne Socks.
I never thought the original post would become a series. But these days, I’m dreaming big. Who knows? Maybe one day Anne Socks will be a household word. If that happens, remember, you heard it here first. The phrase has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
Anne Socks.
by jphilo | Jan 4, 2012 | Family, Recipes
Today’s recipe comes from my mother’s mother, Josephine Newell Hess. She made huge batches of this tapioca fruit salad when her 8 children, their spouses, and her 39 grandchildren gathered for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Once she was unable to host the gatherings, the recipe was lost for many years. Finally, my sister and I were so hungry for it, we recreated the dish with help from Mom. Now we serve it at Thanksgiving and Christmas and eat it as greedily as hobbits do mushrooms.
Though the recipe below doesn’t make as big a batch as Grandma whipped up in her prime, it’s still enough to fill a large Tupperware bowl. Why make so much? Because we love to eat what’s left over the next morning for breakfast!
Holiday Tapioca Fruit Salad
1 box (8 ounces) large pearl tapioca
4 cups water, divided into two equal parts
1/2 cup sugar
1 20 ounce can pineapple tidbits
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup sugar
1-2 tsp. vanilla
2 cups seedless red grapes, halved
1 cups chopped walnuts
2 apples, cored and diced
2 bananas, sliced
2 oranges, diced
The night before the meal, put tapioca in a medium bowl. Add 2 cups of water to the tapioca, cover, and let soak overnight.
Several hours before serving, place soaked tapioca in heavy saucepan. Add 2 cups water and the sugar. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until most of the tapioca is translucent and the mixture is very thick. Pour into a large bowl and immediately add pineapple (juice and all) into the thick tapioca. Stir thoroughly. Put in the refrigerator or on the porch to cool.
An hour before serving whip the cream. Add sugar and vanilla. In a large bowl mix the tapioca, fruit, (except the bananas), and whipped cream together. Immediately before the meal, slice the bananas and stir them in, along with the nuts.
by jphilo | Dec 23, 2011 | Family
I have asked Mom that question twice in the last two weeks and received the same answer both times. “I don’t know. I don’t really need anything.” But what she means is this: “When you give me stuff, I worry about what to do with it. Being a Depression era child, I can’t throw it away. But, being in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, if I put it somewhere, I may not be able to find it again.”
But of course, she would never say that.
My friends suggested getting her a gift card to a restaurant. Which is a lovely idea. Except I’m the one she takes out to lunch each week. So purchasing a gift card is a lot like purchasing a gift for myself.
Feels sorta self-serving.
Another possibility is buying a set of Amish fiction books. When she’s finished, we could donate them to her church so she doesn’t have to worry about them. It’s another lovely idea. But with Christmas only 2 days away, there’s no time to call her church and compare what’s available to purchase to what they need and double check it against what Mom’s already read. Which is most of the Amish fiction that doesn’t include vampires, and she doesn’t like vampire fiction.
Not even Amish vampire fiction.
Yesterday, I had a third great idea. How about a digital picture frame loaded with family photos, old and new? It would eliminate the problem of not being able to throw out the pile of photos people have sent because they could be scanned and added to the digital collection. This idea sounds like a winner, especially since Staples sent an email with a 20% off coupon for guess what? Digital picture frames.
Score!
This could be a sign from God. Or at least an answer to a conundrum common to children whose parents have reached a certain age. Of course, it’s only an answer if my technological skills are up to loading the thing with photos, and that’s debatable. But I’ll give it a try. Which means I’m down to just one question.
Mom, what do you want for Christmas next year?
by jphilo | Dec 20, 2011 | Family, Reviews
My future husband and I hadn’t been dating for long before he started talking about Uncle Harold, his mother’s older brother.
Uncle Harold lived in the Idaho mountains.
Uncle Harold was a World War 2 pilot.
Uncle Harold had bowed legs.
Uncle Harold had an amazing singing voice.
Uncle Harold.
Uncle Harold.
Uncle Harold.
Before meeting Uncle Harold for the first time, I wondered how any man could live up to such hero worship. But after meeting him, I better understood my boyfriend (and his mother Elsie’s) opinion of him. Uncle Harold was, and still is, a remarkable man.
In the past few weeks, I’ve come to know him better through his most recent book, The Preacher’s Kid. Its pages chronicle Harold’s life from his early remembrances until shortly before he enlisted to serve in World War 2. (He’s recorded that story in a previous book, Yes Sir, No Sir.)
I don’t want to give away the good stuff about Harold’s childhood in two small Kansas towns, Clayton and Norway. Or the summers and one school year spent living with his Uncle Ross and Aunt Alma near Hope, Idaho. But, I do want to share a few conclusions drawn from reading about his childhood exploits in the the late 1920s and throughout the 1930s Great Depression years:
- It is a miracle that Uncle Harold is still alive.
- I am very thankful never to have been Harold’s teacher.
- If Harold’s family had been Catholic instead of United Brethren, his mother, Mary Anne Walker (affectionately known as Grandma Annie to our generation) would have been nominated for sainthood.
- His Kansas Great Depression in Kansas stories are as grim as my mom’s Minnesota Great Depression stories, though they involve considerably less snow.
- Harold really did love his little sister, Elsie.
- I had never heard the story of Harold being chased by armed bank robbers before.
Okay, so the last one gave away a little of the good stuff. But, there’s plenty more. So much, that even though you don’t know Uncle Harold, you might like to read The Preacher’s Kid. It’s kind of like a movie where so many things happen to the protagonist you begin to think it’s all made up. Only this story isn’t made up. It’s true and so amazing that my opinion of Uncle Harold now matches that of my husband and my mother-in-law Elsie.
Harold Walker is a most remarkable man.
by jphilo | Dec 12, 2011 | Family
My state is populated in large part by hard-working, low-emoting, never-wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve stock. Not a people given to big scenes and making themselves stand out in a crowd. So when my cousin, who also lives in this state, shared this link on FaceBook, I was surprised.
Seems that one particular college crowd, also in this state, is pushing the edges of the keep-your-eyes-to-the-ground mentality of their elders. The chorus from Simpson College, a private United Methodist College located south of Des Moines in Indianola, made their presence known last weekend.
They got plenty of notice last Sunday during their flash mob performance of the Hallelujah Chorus at Jordan Creek Mall in West Des Moines. One man in the crowd even started singing along. In my state, people like that are called exhibitionists. Proof of how these things can get out of hand and should be stopped.
But I didn’t stop it. I shared the link on my FB wall, and now several other people have shared it on their walls. And another of my cousins, also from this state, sent an email to all our cousins (and there are lots of them) with the YouTube link attached because guess what? Her son is in the Simpson College Chorus, and there’s a really good shot of him, singing away with his heart on his sleeve and emoting for all the world to see.
Click on this link to view the YouTube video. At the 57 second mark, pay close attention to the tall, bearded, handsome young man wearing a red Simpson College sweatshirt and his hands in his pocket. That’s my cousin’s son.
Believe me, all his hard-working, don’t-make-yourself-stand-out rellies are pleased as punch that he and the other members of the chorus didn’t follow their elders’ examples. In fact, I’m wishing I was brave enough to do something to spread Christmas cheer myself
Any suggestions?
by jphilo | Dec 5, 2011 | Family
Hiram and I are back from helping our son and his wife, our new daughter, move from Minnesota to Wisconsin. The weekend was a sequel to our August trip when we helped our daughter and her husband, our new son, move from Iowa to Ohio. Through the twin adventures, we gained some do-it-yourself-moving-tips to pass along to you.
10. Always move in the heat of summer or in questionable winter weather. It makes for
better stories later.
9. Make sure the house being moved into is near a decent coffee shop and/or bakery. 8. If you a dog is moving with you, talk to my new daughter. She knows how to keep
animals calm and happy.
7. Budget for breakage and trips to the coffee shop/bakery.
6. Take Hiram along on all moves. He is the calmest person on earth and good at fixing
stuff. Unlike his wife who shall remain nameless.
5. Assign the wimpiest of the moving crew, who shall remain nameless, to plan and
prepare meals ahead of time. She will feel like she’s doing her part even when
passing heavy boxes on to her husband, son, and new daughter to carry.
4. Move on the day the new village has their annual Christmas festivals. The sound of
fireworks during supper makes the day feel festive.
3. Take plenty of hand lotion. Breaking down cardboard boxes dries out the skin.
2. Look carefully at cell phones before stowing them in your purse or pocket. Otherwise
you could discover your son’s cell phone in your purse and yours in your suitcase.
1. Walk completely around the U Haul truck before getting in and driving away.
Otherwise, you could drive away without shutting its back door, scattering suitcases
and table leaves for several blocks until the loud honks from other vehicles alerts you
of the problem and you pull over just before getting onto a very busy road. Don’t ask
how I know this.
How about you? What have you learned about do-it-yourself moves over the years? Your tips would be greatly appreciated!
