Family Camp Archives - Page 4 of 11

Grandma Annie Cookies

by jphilo | Aug 17, 2011 | Recipes

We’re leaving for Ohio in the morning, to help Anne and her husband move into their apartment. Since I’m packing instead of cooking, today’s recipe comes from the Family Camp Cookbook.

These cookies were the brainchild of Mary Anne Walker, known as Grandma Annie to her grandchildren, my husband included. Their lovely memories of their grandma making cookies are easy to see. When they first see their favorite grandma treats lined up on the cooling rack, their eyes light and their smiles spread. “Grandma Annie cookies,” they say one-by-one, “a meal in themselves.”

For me, they were an acquired taste. Now I love them, too. My eyes light up when they’re served at Family Camp. But best of all is listening to Grandma Annie’s descendants talk about the remarkable woman whose faith and love made a deep impression on all of them. And whose cookies have an impressive impact on waistlines, too. But let’s not talk about that!

Grandma Annie Cookies

3/4 cup butter melted in 1/4 cup water
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup flour
1 teaspoon soda
3 cups oats
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup raisins
1 cup peanuts

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix the dry ingredients in a bowl. Add butter, water, vanilla and eggs. Mix thoroughly. Shape into large balls and drop onto cookie sheet. Bake 12-15 minutes.

Barbarcued Meatballs

by jphilo | Jul 22, 2011 | Recipes

We’ve been back from Family Camp for two days, just enough time to miss the camp menu and not enough to do much cooking here at home. So today’s recipe is the result of a quick poll taken on the flight home.

The poll question was: What was your favorite main dish at camp?
The unanimous response (from pollster and pollees) was: Barbecued meatballs.
Enough said.

Barbecued Meatballs

Meatballs:
1 small can evaporated milk
3 pounds hamburger
2 cups quick oatmeal
2 eggs
1 chopped onion
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
2 teaspoons chili powder
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

Mix together and form into balls. Place in cake pans.

Sauce:
2 cups ketchup
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 tablespoons liquid smoke
1/2 teaspoon garlic
1/2 cup chopped onion

Mix together and pour over meatballs. Bake without the sauce in 350 degree oven until done – about an hour depending on the size of the meatballs. Transfer to a crockpot and pour sauce over top. Heat through and serve.

This makes a big recipe, but the baked meatballs can be covered with sauce and frozen. Then put them in a crockpot in the morning and cook on low. They’ll be ready when you get home!

One of the camp cooks emailed with these variations:

Serve the meatballs Alfredo sauce and serve over noodles.
Serve with sweet and sour sauce, pineapples, and peppers.

I Don’t Want to Say Good-Bye

by jphilo | Jul 19, 2011 | Family

Being a prairie girl, I’m usually ready to bid the mountains adeui after visitings places filled with peaks and valleys. But not today.

Today, I don’t want to say good-bye to this steep, rugged landscape that makes my morning walks a challenge. I don’t want to say good-bye to meadows filled with mountain daisies, the osprey nesting in the towering cedar by a swift-flowing stream, to the buck that rests in the ridge right behind our camper.

Today, I don’t want to say good-bye to mornings overflowing with work crews and hammers and power tools and cooking in the kitchen. I don’t want to say good-bye to the lazy afternoons with time for naps and swimming and hikes and horses. I don’t want to say good-bye to three meals a day that leave my taste buds titilated, my stomach full, and my mind satisfied by interesting conversation and companionship.

But most of all, I don’t want to say good-bye to the people gathered here from all around the world, people I see for a week in July and think about all year long. I don’t want to say good-bye to week spent elbow to elbow with four generations of family passing down stories, sharing recipes, reminiscing, working side-by-side cleaning the bath house and doing dishes on KP duty, preparing the younger generations for their march into the future.

Today, I don’t want to say good-bye. So I won’t. Instead, I will take the mountain and all the people on it back to Iowa. I will store a year’s worth of memories in my heart. And when we leave, I’ll start dreaming of next July when we come back to the mountain again.

Where All the Women Are Strong

by jphilo | Jul 18, 2011 | Family

Shadow Valley Family Camp is not for wimpy women. With the exception of one female cleverly camouflaged behind her camera. Megan, pictured above, is just one of a crew of for women who spent an entire morning peeling logs.

What’s the proof of their heartiness?
These women volunteer for the crews they’re on.

Their crew of four was just one of several crews populated with strong women who don’t blink at daunting tasks like chopping firewood, hauling furniture out of the upper story of a structure accessible via a precariously narrow gang plank, hammering floor joists, and operating noisy power tools capable of removing fingers. The fact that they never blink at the task set before them is a well-documented fact. Just ask the wimpy woman behind the camera. In every picture she takes, these hearty women have their eyes wide open.

They even smile when they volunteer to be on a crew.
Sounds crazy, but it’s true.

And when they’re not at Shadow Valley? These women also volunteer to live in places like Korea. And Siberia. And Alaska. And Canada. And the ones who live in cushier climes? They go on mission trips to Siberia. Or they teach elementary school, which is pretty much the same thing as visiting Siberia.

These women even smile when they return from mission trips.
Or at the end of a school year.

Or when they come to Shadow Valley. Because living here is way easier than life for the rest of the year. Their presence is one reason for coming to Shadow Valley. Being around them is part inspiration, part example, and part encouragement. It’s a healthy dose of vicarious living. The wimpy women get to imagine what it’s like to pound nails or endure through a Siberian winter or a Korean school year, minus the sweat and the shivers.

Plus, being with these strong women makes me smile.
From behind the camera, of course.

We Lift Our Eyes Up

by jphilo | Jul 15, 2011 | Family

As was mentioned in yesterday’s entry (which didn’t post until today due to internet-in-the-boonies issues), the weather introduced a chilly, wet number on the first official day of camp. Day 2 dawned sunny and cool, but by lunchtime the clouds moved in, turning things chilly again. The showers held off until supper, but we stayed happy, safe and dry beneath the pavilion.

After the meal was over, folks stayed put, talking while they waited for the rain to end and the hymn sing to begin. The sun, on the other hand, didn’t wait for anything. Not even for the rain to stop. It showed up for the hymn sing a little early, and pretty soon our side of the mountain echoed with shouts.

“A half-rainbow!”
“Everybody, look at the rainbow.”
“It’s getting bigger!”
“It’s all the way across the sky.”
“Come quick!”
“Look!”
“Look!”
“Look before it fades away!”

The cries of wonder faded with the passing of the fractured light. But a bit of magic, a touch of promise lingered all around, weaved in and out of the music, breathed hope into every heart. We sang with fervor, and our voices lingered over the words of the last song, unwilling to let go of the rainbow, determined to cling to the promises of our faith.

We lift our eyes up unto the mountains.
Where does our help come from?
Our help comes from you,
Maker of heaven, Creator of the earth.

Oh, how we need you, Lord.
You are our only hope.
You are our only prayer.
So we will wait for you to come and rescue us.
To come and give us life.

We lift our eyes up, unto the mountains.
Where does our help come from?

Come quickly, Lord Jesus! Come!