Food

My life often seems to revolve around food.

I spend a lot of time cooking, planning to cook, cooking some more, eating and cleaning up. I read food blogs for fun. I also read cookbooks for fun. Sometimes it's not fun and I'm reading out of desperation for something to match my cupboard's ingredients for dinner that everyone expects in half an hour. During the past five years I have transitioned my diet to wheat free, dairy free and low on corn products. I try to eat local, organic foods. I also have an athletic husband and family of teenagers. I'm broke. But when I'm not racing the timer I know that everyone is thriving and I like this way we are choosing to live. 

Which brings me to the point of this blog post: a chance to talk about food. 

Yesterday, I made this cake for my youngest's 15th birthday. If you're not a car person, I'll tell you this is a Maserati wheel. I was told it's cool. I was also told by said 15 year old that he's never seen the badge close up since the car always whizzes past too quickly. The chocolate cake underneath all that fondant and icing is our go-to for everything cake. 

Before the cake we went for dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant that Pieman and I had enjoyed for our anniversary. K2 is also a foodie so it was a good opportunity to introduce the kids to a new cuisine. My mom and dad came too and BTG, who had been told what to expect in terms of beans, stews and lentils, actually seemed to enjoy what she tried. Yes! CTM wasn't too keen on the injera, which is the bread used to sop up the beautiful food but he still ate his 16 year old full. 

After the meal we had coffee served in individual pots and espresso sized cups. The waiter/owner brought out a cast iron pan in which he had roasted the beans for us to see, smell and hear before he went on to prepare the coffee. We've not had the whole coffee ceremony but one of these days I'd love to.

Because cake and coffee and celebration is important.

18 Years Ago

I was woken this morning by my dear Pieman wishing me a happy birthing day. Eighteen years ago I put in a long day's work for the best reward. 

It's been 18 years. How can such a long time be so short? My reward has been a treasure that I've always known I will send on its way "one day". While that day is not imminent it is closer somehow with this new number. 

She's no longer a child. But she's still a treasure. And she's still my baby. 

I'm so proud of BTG!

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.

birthdays that mark time

Seriously! She's fourteen? I know it's cliché to wonder where that time has gone but it has zipped by so fast. I tried to heed those warnings from older moms. I tried to stop and enjoy them as babies, toddlers, little ones. I wanted to savour it all. But there were diapers to change, bellies to fill, tears to wipe and all the rest too. I have enjoyed these "golden years" as my three kidlets have been independent from me and yet not too much yet. They no longer need their noses wiping but sometimes still the tears. And now she's fourteen. I'm not ready to take the gold out of the days. Rather I'll buff it up nice and shiny. I watch her grow, see those thoughts starting to sound so adult-like. I see her learning to navigate the world with integrity. And I'm proud of her. So proud.

And then there are the best laid plans.

We were on our way home Sunday evening. We were making good time, I was alert and ready for the next three hours of driving and a bonus visit with my sister since we could drive that far in one day leaving a mere three hours Monday morning to home.

And then the lights started flashing. CHECK ENGINE, CHECK ENGINE. Off and on, off and on with the temperature gauge suddenly at hot and hotter and just past an exit ramp. Next exit 7 miles. Unsure if it was better to drive as fast as we could those 7 miles or to slow the engine I struck a middle range and prayed hard. Those few minutes seemed interminable. I still don't know how long they took but the exit arrived and we drove off the highway aiming for the first parking spot in the first gas station. I made a mental note of relief as we passed the cluster of bikers thinking they might know something that would help. But first I went inside and asked the cashier if she knew of a mechanic....it's Sunday evening. Nobody will be open. To my surprise she made a number of logical and informed suggestions for me to check and then asked if I wanted her to help. Uh, yes please. As we're waving the steam and smoke away from my engine the two remaining bikers walked over yelling diagnoses and a third man strolled over giving the helpful directions to the hotel nearly next door where he was manager where he'd hold a room for me with a discounted price. Whew. The cashier sent me off with her mechanic's name and number, we grabbed our overnight bag and rain jackets and spent an unexpected evening in an adequate hotel with not much rest on my part. The kids slept of course. Morning couldn't come soon enough for me. By 7 am I was in touch with Pieman who had been working the night before, then spoke with CAA.

We decided I'd call the local mechanic. What a good decision!

Although in the end the news wasn't good--head gasket, water pump, timing belt replacement since it was overdue and the engine was in pieces anyway, a few other items--we were treated with every respect and kindness and generosity all day. The morning was spent at the mechanic's drinking his fresh coffee brewed just for me while we waited for the diagnosis and cost so as to decide if we should have him do the work or tow the car back to Canada or even to sell it to him and rent a car home. We decided he'd do the work and we'd come back to get the car next week. The sister I missed out on a sleepover with offered to drive the two hours to pick us up so we could still get in a sleepover and Pieman would pick us up the next morning (Tuesday and a three hour plus return drive for him). The afternoon found us walking to Subway and Walmart for lunch and some shopping, to Staples so the kids could play on their computers and then back 'home' to the mechanic's where Robin bought us ice cream and fudge and assured us our day would get better. Robin lives in the area and we chatted a little while she waited for her car to be worked on. She commented on how patient the kids were. I agreed and said they deserved a medal or some ice cream. Just before she left she said she had an odd question for us: what kind of ice cream do we like? She wouldn't even let me pay for it! I nearly cried at her caring of us.

So by the time we arrived home Tuesday afternoon I had left my car in a strange town in the care of strangers who were happy to look after it (for a small price of course--actually half what it would have cost us here in Canada), had enjoyed a lovely visit with my sister and her family and was very happy to be home even if the temperature change was drastic.

Pieman never looked so good.

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A little planning, a little reading as part of the planning, and a little playing here on the blog and the evening has passed pleasantly. The house will be quiet for the rest of the week and I know I will get more done before I meet my dear ones with fresh watermelon in hand to soothe their camped-out throats.

Who am I kidding? It is the grandparents whose throats and bodies will be camped-out. They too are my dear ones but it is the under-age crew I referred to at first. They will not be camped-out or swum-out but will be happy and tired and likely bug-bitten and sun-burned which will perhaps temper moods somewhat.

Before I arrive at their campsite I do hope to have a good part of our next year planned out. I also have time to work at scrapbooking and spend a good deal of time reading, meditating, journaling and praying. It might be a good idea for me to start with that and get to the planning later.

This is not a blog post of significance. But to those who might want to know what I am doing, here it is. Perhaps I'll write more another time.

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wedding day

One of the constants during the two weeks we stayed in our rented cottage was snooker. A mini table in the centre of the room provided the practice for what was coincidentally on the 'tele': the Snooker World Championship. At any time of the day we'd hear the clunk of balls and know that the boys were up. Then someone would ask about Robertson and Dott and we'd know that they'd been watching the championship. They had the lingo down and would talk about hitting it thin or thick.

It got even funnier to my non-snooker mind when on the wedding day I walked in to find most of the family, including the groom who had just stopped in for a little while, sitting, eating toast, watching the snooker, all dressed fully or partially in their finery.

However, to the church we did get and we were early to make sure. So was everyone else. A full 15 minutes before the ceremony started it seemed that the church was full and people restless and waiting. There came hush before the start. But even that was still with five minutes to go.
During the wait and the ceremony K2 and I shared the camera. He took some great photos including these flowers. I took the detail of the bridal gown which stopped just a couple feet from me since I had nearly front row seating and a perfect view.

The wedding was beautiful. The couple were aware of each other only and the building rang with the sounds of glory and honour to God for bringing them together. A picture perfect day in more ways than one since the rain held off until much later and the sun shone out. We felt honoured to be a part of it and humbled to have been able to make it, thanks to Dear Ones.

We fly early Wednesday morning. Early. But at least we fly with lots of time before the wedding; time to see family, to shop for missing wedding items, to sit and have coffee, to sleep, to laugh, to see. That was the plan from the start and these delays have only taken one day from us. We count ourselves lucky.

Here are some great photos of the volcano.


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The children are outside playing merrily in the snow. A real, ground-covering, snowfall. It's even a decently cold -6C to make it a legitimate snowy winter morning. They're happy.

And reminded of the cold wetness of snow melted on wrists. But happy overall.

Everything is so much brighter too with the light reflecting off the white snow. I do love the beauty of a new snowfall.

The Christmas tree is up, lighted and not yet decorated. That'll be the project for this evening with hot apple cider and perhaps some cookies. They've eaten most of them already. Yesterday evening I read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever in front of the glowing woodstove with the tree in the background. If you don't know this story, read it. It's a quick read and has been a family tradition since I was a little girl. Pieman was sure I read really quietly for a little while as he lay stretched out on the couch after a long day's work but nobody else seemed to notice.

Every now and then I spend some time reading food blogs. These are the two I read this morning. And this I read last night while looking for dinner inspiration.

Sailing

It's possible I've blogged about this before. This sailing. It has become one of the favourite activities of my family on windy days. In winter they use a toboggan. Yesterday they used the little red wagon; Radio Flyer is true to its name. They had a hard time getting the tarp centered properly and it turns out that a lighter child would have made it all easier. But they were successful.

The stories told with the most enthusiasm though were those when the child held the tarp by hand and ran or was dragged along. I was shown some good scrape marks. My favourite scene was seeing the tarp snap in half the 1" x 2" board that it was tied to and that CTM was holding. He lurched suddenly to a stop with the two pieces in his hand while the tarp flew off happily, finally free from its bonds.

Are we just a weird homeschooling family? or are we creative and family-oriented? It's all in the perspective I suspect. In any case, it's fun to watch and experience the joy. Each child seems alive and bright when they come in, and I don't think it can all be explained by the 'bracing' wind.

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I was born and raised Mennonite Brethren. Although I no longer have a membership in such a church I still consider myself to be MB. At times I forget how important it is to me. Then I read a book by Margaret Epp and am reminded. Easter approaches and I make paska and am reminded. I catch sight of a tub of dry cottage cheese, think of vareneki and am reminded. Hear my mother singing in harmony with her sisters and am reminded.

Amidst all the stories I hold and memories I treasure I realize one thing: food seems to play such a huge part in the MB tradition! Here is a blog I love. Many of the recipes here I recognize, some are newer than those in my Mennonite Treasury cookbook or my We Are Our Mother family cookbook. The beauty behind the food though is something deeper, a desire for relationships. The beautiful gift of hospitality and welcome. A sharing of our selves with each other and even strangers. That is why I sometimes weep when I come across recipes and the stories that go with them. They bring memories of people I have known, times when my life has been influenced and enriched by those with whom I have been privileged to share a moment. Of course my family is central to many of those memories. I am Mennonite Brethren.


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I just dropped BTG off at her first youth group.

The boys have gone with Pieman to play and watch soccer.

I don't have to cook supper for anyone and am eating a toasted waffle while sitting at the computer. Food at the computer is a no-no at our house.

Conversely, I don't have anyone to cook supper for.

I feel like crying.

I was told my blog is out of date. Sorry Calgary!

We have had sun this week and beautiful hot weather. We've eaten our first yellow cherry tomatoes the size of a marble. I'm hoping the next ripe ones will be bigger. Still enjoying peas, lettuce (a little bitter), swiss chard, kale and now kolhrabi and beans. The broccoli and tomatoes are coming. So are the Armenian cukes. The pumpkins are turning orange but the squash is a little slower. It's in a different plot.

I picked up Morton from the airport late last night. She's still sleeping. I'm going to start our breakfast pancakes. The kidlets are waiting patiently for her with their books, each ensconsed on a couch or chair. Pieman's chatting with his Dad who just had a birthday.

I've been referred to a learning languages page called LiveMocha. Looks good. Also a blog called The Linguist on Language. Look like fun.

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water, water, everywhere

water in the pool, children swimming

water from the sky, cat dodging

water on the garden, vegetables growing

all is thriving

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He asked.

She said yes.

Our family is growing.

Great cheering for the new aunt by the kidlets.

Brother and sister-in-law sigh with pleasure.

We haven't heard yet from the parents or the sister and brother-in-law.

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