Perfect Moments

Five nights of little sleep have left my mind blurry and my face gray and heavy. After a day of soccer, team pictures, weeding, mowing, "encouraging" girls to do their chores, and weekly shopping, We walked to our gym for a little swim.

The outdoor pool opened unexpectedly just for us (it seemed) and I plopped onto a chair under an umbrella with my legs propped on another for comfort. After awhile I noticed that my three dare devils had relocated. They were waggling their toes in their Daddy's lap lane, cheering him on, touching him as he turned, and yelling encouragement.

Eventually, he submitted to his adoring fans. He leaped into the child allowed area of the pool and was swarmed. He held one little leach in each arm while another clutched his back. The sun hit them from the behind, illuminating them with gold and lighting their laughter. He tossed, gave rides on his back under the water, twirled and taught them. They couldn't stay away.

I saw my husband with their eyes and 20 years fell away. He was confident, strong, fun, charismatic, safe, and completely trustworthy. Through my girls, I fell in love, all over again. Just like them, how could I resist him?

I gathered up the towels, goggles, shoes, bags . . . and followed my four out the gates. Music beat, and my gold outlined wild ones bopped. No ladylike graceful exits here. They cranked their hips, writhed and wiggled in completely un-hip yet unique movements that exuded their love of the music to the world of sedate sunbathers.

My body and mind no longer felt the exhaustion of the week. "A truly golden afternoon" I thought.


There are not always fireworks. They come, go, and come again. There is no such thing as a perfect marriage, a perfect family or a perfect life, just perfect moments.


I add this moment to my bouquet. Placed together, each perfect moment makes the fragrant and heart warming bouquet of my life. God gives each of us a limited number of days. . . . .of moments. I don't want miss a single one, take one for granted, because MY! there is such beauty, and it all goes by so fast.

Sun Dried Tomatos

The weather is cool, just enough that lying in the grass is a luxury. The skies are a deep blue, as if to make up for the foliage that is browning. These signs hint of season change, and remind me to run, roll and play and save a bit of sunshine in the soul for winter.

Centuries before canning was invented, Italians laid their tomatoes to dry in the sun, caramelizing their sweetness for use in sauces, pesto, and meat during the cool season.

Chef Tess showed me how easy it is to make sun dried tomatoes... and I am so excited to try something new!

Tomato slices sat in the dehydrator for about 1 day, then turned for an even tan, and gently pressed with a spatula. 8 pints of fresh tomatoes fit into 1 pint jar! Covered with extra virgin olive oil and sharing space with a sprig of rosemary, they will sit in my fridge for months, or my freezer for a year. The oil will taste great on pasta, or pesto!


"Sun . . .abundance . . . laughter . . . bare feet." The jar whispers to me. I take a bite. It explodes with sunshine!

Confidence from a Pie

Self esteem has little to do with constant messages of "You're great! You're smart! You're beautiful!" Messages from the outside often hit our outsides, then bounce off. If someone isn't there to stroke our egos, even for a moment, we fall prey to inner feelings of unworthiness.

So how do I help my sweeties feel good about themselves? Self sufficiency and service are two things that help their happiness grow from the inside. When I forget, I try to do things for them or fix their problems with things or people. This only sends the message that they are incapable and need me to exist.

Tonight, I am tired. I've started a new workout program at 5:45 a.m. and its a killer. My body feels shredded and I had playgroup at my house today. . . and my brain's probably fried.

Ladybug wandered the grounds with Taylor, her new duck, and found peaches dropping from the tree.


With proprietary pride in her discovery, she announced that she was going to make a pie. So, after cooking two dinners, I sat down to teach . . . not touch.


She learned to peel, slice, measure, roll, use a pastry cutter, pinch a pie crust, turn on a gas unit etc. etc. etc.


Partially through, she looked for an adult to finish her project. But Briz is a wonderful parent and refused. 2 1/2 hours later, three pies slip into the fridge and the last vestiges of creation are washed and wiped. "Whew!" she breathes. "That is a lot of work! Now I know why pies are so expensive. They take a long time!"

"You'll get faster each time you do it." I assure her.

The pies are not quite works of art, but they are just about perfect to taste.

Full of the confidence that comes from an inner knowledge that she is capable and clever, she is able to reach out. "Even though this pie is mine, I am going to share with my sisters." Then she offered each a bowl of glaze to lick.

Tomorrow, two pies will be offered to two special teachers. I hope they will see past the minor crinkles and see a monumental project that started in Ladybug's brain and ended with her own hands.

My body aches and my brain longs for escape in The Shape of Mercy (the fabulous book I am currently reading). Yet I gained from our lengthy learning process as well. I did not accomplish a pie, but a building block in my babies feelings about herself. That built confidence and happiness inside of me too.

The Green Glitter Ball

"The thing" at elementary school right now is a glitter ball. "I'm the only one who doesn't have one." Little Mother complained over and over. "I can fix that." I replied. "Here are several jobs that need to be done and what I will pay for them."

Obsessed with her ticket to sparkly coolness, Little Mother worked with an admirable fervor for most of the day. Evening brought a trip to the store and many bounces to pick the perfect glitter ball that bounced just right.

The next day we traveled to Logan to visit cousins. "I HAVE to show them my glitter ball!" "Well, it's your choice, but I think you could lose it or leave it here. I'd leave it in the car."

On our way back home, the tears began. The precious glitter ball was left in the yard. We listened to over an hour of sadness and heart break.

Over a month later, at a family baptism, Little Mother was reunited with her glitter ball. She ran in the house, all smiles, to show me her treasure. So happy for her, I took a picture of their reunion.


Two minutes later, a sobbing girl ran into my arms. "I took out the garbage and held the glitter ball really tight. I tripped and my glitter ball rolled into the drain."

My heart broke as I held my devastated daughter. With ever fiber of my being I longed to run buy her a new glitter ball, one that was even better. The only thing I wanted more than to soothe her heart was to help her grow and learn from life's painful lessons. If I take away her consequence, her next experience will be much more painful.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, trying to give her back her power. "There is a number on the drain. Will you call them and see if they can open the drain?" She asked.

"I will help you figure out what to say when you call." I responded kindly.

She called. It was the weekend. Little Mother dropped all sorts of junk down the drain to hold the glitter ball in the corner so it would not get carried away by the water.

Monday . . . She called again. Of course, they refused. They must not understand the value of glitter balls. Hard rains came. Glitter ball floated down the holes and off to an unknown adventure. Popularity based on the glitter ball floated away with it.

Hard experience for the mom who would foolishly protect her daughter from life's lessons.

Peaches and Football

Tired homemaker refuses to bottle peaches this year claiming they are unhealthy, expensive, sticky and make her arms itch.

7:04 p.m...

Football and peach fan turns on the game, adjusts the table for a better view and begins to peel. "How many cups of water to how much sugar?" he asks. "Light syrup." I reply. "6 cups water to 2 cups sugar."


9:11 p.m.

7 jars of golden globes slip into their hot water bath.

Tennesee 10 - Pitsburg 7

Gotta love that guy.

Artists

We walked the gardens for inspiration. Check out the use of parsley and cilantro for greenery in the midst of the flowers. It is a perfect mix of form and function.


Artists dot the landscape, capturing with paint and brush what we captured in cameras and our imaginations.

Their vision . . .


Our vision . . .

Enamored with both art and the artists, my little women stood, watched, and admired. "I'm a great artist." Little Mother confided. "We love art too." Brina and Becca added."

A white haired grandma counseled, "My friends ask how I do all these things. I tell them the difference between us is that I just do it and they think they can't." She took our address while blowing her nose (allergy to oil paints) and invited us to an art showing. She especially wanted to invite my confident and flattering artistic sweeties.

We returned home, inspired by the beauty of the gardens, and warmed by the encouragement of the artisans. What to do next? Paint of course!!


The afternoon was spent creating masterpieces and discussing our future travels. Becca and Little mother plan on traveling to England and France to see gardens , and Maine to get lobster and crab, and Missouri . . . Brina just wants to sit in Missouri and be a hillbilly.

The Secret's in the Crust

Teri,

When I was little I read a book about a really precocious little girl somewhat like myself. She wanted to win a cooking competition with a lemon cream pie. While helping at a church function, she overheard the women complementing Mrs. _____ on her exquisite crust. "The secret is a pinch of baking powder." Mrs. ________ whispered. The little girl decided that if a pinch was good, more would be better so she added quite a bit. The crust was so light and fluffy, while baking with the filling inside, the crust rose to the top of the dessert. She was crushed about her ruined pie.

Though I can't remember the book, I was so impressed by this story and so like this little girl, that I started adding just a pinch of baking powder to my very basic crusts. Anyway, it's foolproof... and the lady was right, it makes an awfully flaky pie crust. So here is the version I created as a child and still use. I hope you have as much luck with it as I have.

Pie Crust (for a double 9" crust)
2 cups flour
1 level teaspoon salt
1 pinch baking powder
3/4 cup shortening
5 tablespoons ice cold water (may need a bit more)

Preheat oven to 425. Mix flour, baking powder and salt. Cut in shorting with pastry blender till consistency of small peas. Sprinkle water 1 T at a time. Toss with a fork till you form a ball. Press between your hands to form 2 5-6 inch pancakes. If time permits, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes. If not . . . proceed. I LOVE plastic wrap and use it instead of a floured cloth. I put one sheet on the bottom and one on the top and roll out my dough. I peel one sheet off and pick up the other and position it perfectly over the pan and peel off! Viola! Prick bottom and sides if not baking filling inside to prevent shrinking. Cook till light brown (about 10-15 minutes). If filled, bake 30 minutes.

Taste of the Ozarks

We had so much fun with cousins we decided to bring Ozark flavored cousins home with us.

Once everyone learned the songs from Hairspray, we rocked, clapped, and grooved our way in the car. 525,600 minutes was a groovin' movin' favorite. Becca rocked out like Stevie Wonder, closed eyes and all. When we started to smell each other and giggle too hard in the car, we stopped to swim.

Briz is the perfect swimming companion. He teases, teaches, and plays with the girls.


Somewhere along the line I've obtained the important job of sitting under the umberella, taking photographs, escorting buddies to the bathroom, and warming with towels. Very rarely I go on strike. Today was one of those days where the fun looked better than my poolside job. "Oh my gosh!!!!! Guys Look! My Mom's comming in!" they squealed as if they'd spotted their favorite High School Musical star. I made my pool debut with a splash!

Brina says I made a bigger cannonball splash than Briz. So there!!!

California

We drove through the giant redwoods to the "Raisin Capital of the World", just as the grapes were drying on their little papers down rows and rows of vines.


Family awaited.

All of us were together . . . its been years and years and years. It was so inspiring to be with such a fun group, each family was so unique and has such amazing strengths.

Elisabeth was our resident fun planner, teaching songs, painting rocks and blowing bubbles.

I nearly split a gut laughing when Mom and Dad, MY MOM and DAD, gave a puppet story about the coyote and the grasses. When she said "fart" I thought I must have misheard. Then she began the flatulent noises and I couldn't stand it. I laughed till my bladder leaked.

Ladybug helped her cousins find things . . . endangered toads, lizards and birds. Birds? Yes. She says she sneaks up on them at night while they are sleeping and shines the flashlight on them and grabs them. After we admire, she lets them go.

The inevitable family picture was somewhat painful...if one turns out without anyone screaming or closing their eyes it will rival crossing the red sea.

We had to leave too soon. We will miss ALL our family. XOXOXOXO!

For Becky

If I were trying to describe summer to a blind/deaf . . . alien, I'd place a bite of fresh peach pie in their mouth. "That's the TASTE of summer." I'd say. Summer, ripe, sweet, poignant partaken each August in a flaky pie crust. Pie. Peach Pie. Fresh Peach Pie . . . Here you go Becky! I think I'll make one tonight as well.

Fresh Peach Pie
2 1/2 cups fresh peach slices
1 T lemon juice
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup sugar
3 T cornstarch
2 T butter
1/8 tsp salt
1/8 tsp. almond extract
1 baked 8 inch pie shell (homemade is SOOOOOO much better)

Place sliced peaches in a bowl and drizzle lemon juice over; mix lightly. Add 1/4 cup sugar; toss gently. Set aside for 1 hour. Drain peaches. Save liquid. Add water to liquid to equal 1 cup. Combine 1/2 cup sugar and cornstarch in saucepan. Stir in peach liquid. Blend well. Stirring constantly, bring to a boil. Boil for 3 minutes until thick and clear. Remove from heat. Blend in butter, salt and almond extract. Cool slightly. Gently fold in peaches. Turn into pie shell. Serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. Serve warm or cold.

Welcome Home

Ladybug missed us.

She was prepared with gifts for each member of her family. Some were home made and others were purchased from her hard earned funds. She raced around showing us her chickens, her toad collection, her creations, and the joys of the last two months.

We drank her in. For one glorious day, all is well with the world in sibling rivalry land. No one hit, yelled or fought. All was love, joy, and service.

On the way to California, we talked with Little Mother about how she can help Ladybug with the many challenges she faces.

She was quick to respond. "I'll help her with things that are hard for her! That's why we're sisters." A few hours later, I watched as she carried her over the prickly dead grass and knew she'd try to keep her word.

Challah in A Bag

Two minds with opposite goals can come to a meeting of the minds to accomplish what they want with the same activity. Serendipitous! Today I needed to take a loaf of artisan bread to a friend with a gift for her birthday. Sunshine wanted to spend "special time together not doing my things".

We put 2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour, 3 cups white flour, 1 1/2 T. yeast, and 1 1/2 t. salt in a gallon bag and squashed it around.Then we added 1 2/3 cup warm water, 1/4 cup softened butter, and 1/4 cup honey.

We squished.

We squeezed.

We punched.

We made 3 long snakes, 1 rattle snake, 1 garden snake, and a boa constrictor. They got in a fight and wrapped around each other till they were twisted stuck. They had to rest on a 1/4 cup bed of sugar/corn meal for an hour. When they woke up, they were friends. They had a nice egg wash and rolled in sugar, then laid in the 350 degree sun together for 45 minutes.

Viola! Challah!
Don't tell Christy where our feet have been!

Note: All white flour gives a much more delicious desserty bread. But, someone has to be the mom here! Check out Blue Yonder for more detailed instructions.