Key Lime Curd from this recipe. One of the easiest and prettiest things I've done today.

Meanwhile CTM with a little help from his siblings, made this:

All because K2 has a cold and we cancelled our regular outing. Yum.

It's time.

I'm calling it quits here.

I may at some point start again but for now, I have no plans to continue writing in this format.

Ciao

Mom

With a scarf on my mind and my knitting needles, I think of my mom every time I pick it up to do another row. She taught me to knit at least four times, every time as patiently as the first and with a twinkle to see me all knotted up even as she helped me relax and do it again.

When I use my mixer to make yet another batch of cookies, I think of her gift of baking skills (and the mixer with a hand-sewn cover) and the joy I have in using that gift for those I love and hopefully passing it on to my children. I think similar thoughts when I mend a piece of clothing or sew up something for a gift on the machine she gave to my sisters and me the Christmas we all commented with no awareness of each other's thoughts that "I wished I had a machine."

When my mom comes to visit, she cooks the turkey because she loves to do it. Her gravy is the best.

Mom listens to me when I chatter on about nothing in particular and gives advice carefully when I need it and usually only if I ask. She's wise too.

She loves my kids. And my husband. And my dad. She gives me books and lets me eat her chocolate chips. And if I even get started on how she did a good job raising me and my sisters I'll never stop. She didn't let me eat the chocolate chips then (I did anyway but the cookies suffered), and she "stuck her nose in" when we played games like Scrabble (which habit I've picked up); she helped me grow and to grow up. She taught me that good eating habits and enthusiasm for play is good. And that, really, is just the beginning.

Thanks, Mom. I hope I do as good a job as you.

If you don't hit "publish", it doesn't. This is from 2 months ago.

My cooking style has developed over the years from many, many sources. My mom is a great cook and handed down much wisdom and many favourite recipes from her Mennonite Brethren background. I loved watching her prepare recipes while sitting at the kitchen island and, I suppose but don't remember, doing homework. I loved the challenge of baking cakes, cookies and even doughnuts as a young teenager. At university I lived with my sister who had been on her own for a number of years already and so I learned some quick and easy "throw-together" meals and techniques. Sautéing being one. "Tuna slop" on rice was a favourite meal even when Mom tsk'd over the name. Once I married I continued to read recipe books but found myself scrambling once the kids came along to produce food in seconds that met the Food Guide criteria and my little quirky eater. Can you say white? (Think bread and sugar, rice, etc. She never said it, but that was the theme.) Or the voracious eater...a whole banana presented to my 6 month old bought me, get this: 10 extra seconds.

Anyway, they survived. One thing I don't like is waste, and although I have always enjoyed eating leftovers, my little ones didn't.

?!?

So, I have learned to take yesterday's meals and rework them into today's. I will use recipe books as inspiration, adapting the ingredients list to fit my fridge and pantry. Often it works really well. Sometimes it bombs.

The other day after a particularly good dish, my family joked that I should write a cookbook. Ha! In order to do that I'd have to have a series of recipes for each recipe in order to include the taste from the leftovers that went into it. So, just for fun, here is the recipe I made up for yesterday's pork chili.

Cooked in a crockpot all day on low.
Use the leftover pork tenderloin marinated in vindaloo paste and yogourt then oven roasted. Add white beans and chickpeas, cooked; a jar of homemade tomato sauce canned last summer, and another of tomato relish for a little sweetness. From the back of the fridge please fish out the last half of the jar of chunky salsa and call that your onion and peppers and cilantro flavouring. A generous sprinkle of chili and cumin powder with salt and pepper. Nine hours later heat up the leftover rice and serve with a salad. Rave reviews all around and even better for leftovers today!

almost

The answer was almost yes. But the time for a decision was short and a strong nay was possible from a significant person. So we said no. The opportunity passed. And when the significant person arrived...his answer was yes.

We quick tried the phone, but the calls went unanswered. Deep tears welled up, a chin quivered and the arrow of disappointment entered my heart as well.

Why didn't I just say yes?

I have a wise friend. I am blessed.

She has reminded me of the days years ago, when the children were wee-little and I exhausted beyond anything I've ever known before or since. Those days when being empty was the norm and yet I had to reach deeper. And I could not. I cried out to God hourly and more, for strength to carry on. When all I wanted to do was flop and not move and yet I so wanted to be available to those dear little eyes staring up at me, expecting me to be a mother.

I complained of this one day to a friend, how I was so weak I had to keep coming back to God again, and again. Over and over with hardly a break. Just like my children to me. My children didn't see it as a weakness to come back to me. They knew the source of their help and didn't hesitate to ask. Every time. And yet I hesitated to ask the source of my help. But I did because I was desperate. My friend looked at me oddly, suggested I was doing what He expected and desired of me. And I was floored.

How could I not have already learned this?

She was right. And I learned that God was pleased with me. It brought me rest and confidence.

Sometimes I need an object lesson! And sometimes I need that reminder, again, because I forget so easily that God is my sufficiency and is pleased with me.

Thank you, dear, wise friend.

I missed February

no posts in February

It's tempting to set the date on this to February just so there's a post. But I won't. I will say that I've been concentrating on writing in my journal more. And writing letters by hand sent with a real stamp. I love the feel of a pen in my hand, the ink flowing smoothly out. I dislike the feel of a blotchy or scratchy pen. I love seeing words form on paper and how a change in the paper or pen can make a difference in how I write. I love the sense of clarity that comes to my thoughts as I write them and read, often realising my opinion is clear when I thought it confused, or that my arguments or reasons sound just plain silly when they're said "out loud."

Which is the explanation of why I didn't blog in February.

A walk on the Green Trail

With four adults, twelve children between the ages of five and fifteen and one dog, we didn't really expect to see any birds or wildlife on our hike. And it's a good thing we had prepared ourselves. Some of us did see one bird, but that was the extent of any living thing besides us and one cross country skier who had to wait for us all to traipse by so he could carry on down the trail.

Fresh snow in our unusually mild winter was a delight and the cold temperature made us feel it was really winter. Snowballs flew and faces sparkled with cheeks becoming redder as we went along. The bigger kids often had to wait at intersecting trails so the adults who knew the way could direct them but they didn't seem to mind.

We got to see a few animal tracks: dog, rabbit and deer at least. The trees were mostly bare but some oak leaves hung on and one plant had bright red berries. I think it was a red barberry. Mostly it was just fun to be outside in the snow all together. We're a group of women and kids who are learning about nature and books don't always give us what we need to know. Trees devoid of leaves look and sound different. The air in winter sounds and smells like winter air. Red berries show up bright against white snow and I'm sure if there had been leaves on the bush with the red and yellow branches we'd not have seen the colours. (I assume the yellow was last summer's new growth.) Lots we saw we had no answers for, but then, that's part of the adventure. We may come across those answers in unexpected places now that we've identified the questions.

I highly recommend a winter hike, especially if it's cold and snowy. You'll be glad you went.

books (surprise!)

The children have discovered ibooks on their ipod.... They have downloaded the entire collection of Lang's Fairy Tales except the Blue one which we own in print. They're exploring Henty's books and are disappointed to find that many authors cost money!

I anticipate quiet days ahead with the occasional "my turn!" squabble.

Peg people

A new obsession has taken over our home. Peg people from Lee Valley. So far we have made Little Red Riding Hood, the wolf, Granny and the Woodcutter; Octavius, Santa and Joseph in his Technicolour Dreamcoat. We have just received the rest of the backorder. Before painting (or Sharpie-ing), the regiments led by Octavius and Santa have been mowed down by DaVinci's catapult. Things might change once they are painted. But hopefully not.

(I guess the morning's breakfast may have helped.)