by jphilo | Jul 17, 2012 | Family
We’re enjoying our visit with our sweet daughter and son-in-law. Though they were far, far away for a year our time together is proof that their year out east didn’t diminish the family traits that show she’s our girl. Here are the top ten ways I know she’s still the person we raised back in the day:
10. Her eyes sparkle whenever she learns we’re having BLTs and sweet corn for supper. (Minus the T, just like her mom used to eat ’em.)
9. She asked me to make the family birthday cake, German chocolate, for her birthday this coming Saturday. (A favorite of Dad and Mom’s.)
8. She and dairy products don’t get along. (Mom’s side of the fam.)
7. At her PT appointment last week, she was diagnosed with hip displaysia. (Just like her dad.)
6. She pitches right in (and so does her hubby) when it’s time to wash windows, dust, weed, strip the beds, do laundry, and wash dishes. (Early childhood training by both parents.)
5. Anne loves to sniff out a good bargain. (We prefer to call this trait, passed along by both parents, “thrifty” rather than “cheap.”)
4. Anne’s reading her way through the murder mysteries on her mom’s bedside table and is ready to go the library for more tomorrow.
3. Like her dad, she’s always making stuff.
2. Like her mom, she’s always writing something.
1. Our house feels more like home when she and her husband are here.
What family traits do you see in your children? Leave a comment about the ones you’re willing to claim!
by jphilo | Apr 9, 2012 | Family, Reflections on the Past
The lilacs are blooming,
Blossoms purple against deep green leaves.
Their scent rises in greeting this morning
As I walk down the lane.
I welcome these old friends,
Who visit briefly each spring,
Then wave good-bye in the wind,
With never a backward glance at the branches that bore them.
My daughter loved their circle of branches,
A fairy ring just big enough
For one small girl and her dolls
To hold a tea party on summer afternoons.
I look for my sweet, shy daughter
And the circle of branches
In the lilacs,
But both are gone.
The fairy ring is overgrown,
Filled with tender, new lilac shoots.
My daughter is grown,
Filled with tender love for her new husband.
Still, the lilacs blossoms
Return each spring.
My daughter and her husband
Return when they can.
When they turn into our lane,
The lonely branches wave
To greet the shy, sweet girl
Who once nestled in the safety
Of a fairy ring.
by jphilo | Feb 10, 2012 | Family
We’re off to cheese head country this afternoon to visit our son and new daughter, so time is short. Therefore, today’s post is recycled from February 12, 2010 when we were busy planning two weddings. With Valentine’s Day around the corner, both kids nearing their second wedding anniversaries, and my time crunch due to visiting one couple, this seemed like the perfect post.
Mindful – Recycled
I take so many things in life for granted: a warm home, a loving husband, more food than I need, education and job skills, freedom to travel, vacations, a functioning government, friends who stand by me, and the ability to pay our bills each month. These privileges are so commonplace I treat them as my due.
But each time my children call, I’m reminded of a double privilege my husband and I hope we never take for granted. We count their calls as blessings, their voices full of confidence in our love for them, eager to talk about the events of the past week and dreams for the future. The blessing multiplies when they ask for our advice, consider our words seriously, and heed what we say.
I never dreamed of such relationships with my adult children after growing up in the sixties watching the hippies and flower children denigrate and scoff the “establishment.” A bit young to participate in the rebellion, a bit of the ‘60s attitude still managed to rub off on me. My parents’ advice was considered suspect until after our son was born, and we needed all the help we could get to survive his first five years.
So we never expected our children would value our advice before they became parents. During Allen’s monastery years, we lost our easy relationship with him and believed it was gone forever. But God has blessed our family with restoration though we deserve this blessing no more than any other family. When I talk to our children, I am overwhelmed by the sweetness of God’s grace and acutely aware of families broken by strife, crippled by rebellion. I hold back the tears until after the good-byes and I love yous.
Then I let them flow as I pray, “Please God, make me mindful of your blessings. Don’t let me ever take them for granted.”
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 | Nov 16, 2011 | Recipes
My kids love homemade applesauce. Maybe it’s because Grandma Dorothy used to tell them the applesauce she made had smiles in it. All they had to do, she said, was taste it and they would start to smile. She was right. It worked every time.
During the fall and winter, our grocery store often sells their culled apples for $.99 or $1.99 for a four to five pound bag. I snatch up those bargains, bring them home, and make applesauce. Here’s the recipe – very easy, but it takes some time!
Crock Pot Applesauce
12 – 15 medium apples 1 cup water
¼ – ½ cup sugar (to taste) 1 – 2 teaspoons cinnamon
Scrub apples with vegetable brush. Quarter each apple (do not peel or core) and put them in the crock pot. Add water. Cook for 8 – 10 hours, stirring occasionally, until apples are soft and mushy. Place colander over a large mixing bowl. Ladle cooked apples into a colander and press them through. When finished, stir sugar and cinnamon (to taste) into sauce. If sauce is thick, add a little water. Serve warm or cold. Store in the refrigerator for a week or freeze some to enjoy later.
If you prefer chunky applesauce, peel, core and slice the apples before putting them in the crock pot. Once the apples are soft, don’t run them through the colander. Just add sugar and cinnamon, and you’re done.
