3.14 and My Grandmother's Cookbook

Today is Pi Day so... I made cheesy chicken pot pie, from scratch, for dinner. :)

The basic recipes for both the filling and the cheese crust came from my grandma's cookbook. Oh, yes, that's right, there's CHEESE in the pie crust as well! I have made my own changes- the cheese wasn't one of them- but the overall intent is the same: Deliciousness in a savory pie crust.

I don't know if I've mentioned before that I have a cookbook that once belonged to my grandmother on my dad's side. In it you will find instructions for everything, and I mean EVERYTHING kitchen and cooking related! If you ever need to know how to eviscerate poultry or rabbit, I have the instructions. Are you curious as to how to set a proper table or what was considered necessary when starting a kitchen in the late 1940s? I have that information as well and, not surprisingly, it's not completely irrelevant in today's world. I can also give you multiple recipes for jello salads and aspics which nobody in their right mind would consider making today. I can tell you what the temperature range is for an oven heated to moderate and how to test your oven when there is no temperature gauge. There is even a section on nutrition and a Wartime Postscript instructing you to use that information to keep your family healthy because, "A healthy nation is the best contribution our homes can make to our war effort." (I told you it was from the 1940s.)

My grandma's cookbook is full of history- including, but not limited to, the family kind. It's over fifty years old and is full of notes and recipes that she scribbled in margins, in the index, on both the front flyleaf and the back one, the title page... Pretty much everywhere there was a little space. Also tucked between the pages are recipes written on note cards and newspaper clippings. It's my own treasure chest- filled with the kind of gold that not everyone will appreciate- and I am incredibly lucky to have it.

*Update* I intended to post the recipe but got busy writing about the book. :P If anyone is interested in having it, let me know and I'll post it here.

"Hold Me Like You'll Never Let Me Go"

I like hugs. No, I love hugs. When I am having a bad day, a hug is all I want. When Branden and I are arguing or I am freaking out over something, Branden could stop most of it in its tracks if he'd just reach out a give me a good hug... Which is hard for him to do as it's completely against his nature but it'd be a wise thing for him to remember if he wants problems to be solved more quickly. Nothing calms me faster or soothes me more than being held, really held, by someone who loves me.

When words fail, there are always hugs and I give them when I have nothing else to give. I've been told that I give good hugs and I put that down to the fact that I try to give the kind of hugs I wish to receive. It's hard to describe what I mean and I can't show you because you are on the other side of a computer screen, likely many miles from where I am... I'll do my best, though.

To begin, a good hug needs to have feeling behind it. Anyone can toss their arms around someone for a nanosecond with little-to-no feeling before rushing off to do whatever they think is important. To be a good hug, no, a TRUE hug, there needs to be love. Be it love for a spouse or other family member, love for a friend or just love for a fellow being in need, it is the most important part of a true hug.

A true hug should be firm but not like a boa constrictor. You're not trying to squeeze the life out of someone, but hold the life in. Be it joy or pain spilling out, a hug is emotion contained in our arms.

A true hug should give you permission to fall apart when you need to because the person hugging you will be holding the pieces together. Cry on my shoulder, let that part inside you snap because I won't let any of your pieces get lost. They are right here in my arms waiting until you can hold on to them again. I cannot fix you with a hug but I can buy you a little time to help you fix yourself.

A true hug doesn't have a time limit. It lasts as long as is needed. Maybe it's just a short moment in time, a quick reassurance before we head our separate ways. Maybe it's multiple minutes when comfort is needed or we are parting for a long period of time.

A true hug is pure and safe. There are no ulterior motives. You cannot take a hug. Hugs can only be given and their value doesn't decrease with number or frequency of use.

Hugs are one of the things I miss the most about living close to my family. Phones and internet have enabled me to keep communication going but they won't let me touch anyone. There are many moments in my current life that I would do just about anything to wrap my arms around my sister or to spend thirty seconds in my dad's embrace. My mom has told me that I am the most physically affectionate of all of her children and that I taught our family how to hug. If I do only that with my life then I will have made the world a better place.

But I am not content to only do that. I want everyone to learn how to hug. So do me- and yourself- a favor: When you leave your computer, go hug someone. Practice giving true hugs because the next time I see you, I intend to give you one and I hope that you'll give one back to me.

Nobody Will Ever Know... Except That I'm Putting It In a Blog

Branden likes to tease me about being clumsy. Sometimes the teasing is a little hurtful, honestly, but it's not as if he's teasing me about something that's untrue. I do seem to trip a lot, drop things and knock things down often. Which is part of the reason that when I do these things without a witness, it's almost something for me to take pride in.

Today I totally bit it on the ice next to my car and nobody saw me fall. Unfortunately, I went to City Museum on January 29 and my bruises are still healing. Even though I was immediately able to get up on my own, I fell on quite a few of those bruises and re-bruised as well as created new ones. I also think I twisted my right knee a little bit. :S

No worries, though, nobody saw!

Enjoy The Blow

There is a poem I read about fifteen years ago about a person who lives next door to the zoo. There's a terrible storm and the zookeeper brings the animals over one by one to sit in the tub, relax in the living room and cuddle in the bed. One piece of the poem has stuck with me and I sometimes repeat it to myself. It's just a couple of lines but it goes like this: Hunker down, Enjoy the blow.

This morning I was on my way to work and I heard on the radio that the malls were closed. I decided that I'd better call my boss. As it turns out, she was calling people and telling them to stay home. I decided then that I was going to enjoy the blow. I stopped at a grocery store on the way home where I picked up everything I needed to make potato soup and a dozen eggs... Just because I could.

I arrived home safely and told Branden my work was closed- my first snow day in 13 years! After he was out of bed, I jumped on the St. Louis bandwagon and made us french toast for breakfast. We spent most of the day messing around on our computers and watching TV while the freezing rain came down outside. I baked potatoes and made them into delicious soup and we've just relaxed. So far things have been MUCH less severe than predicted but we're under a blizzard warning until tomorrow at noon so we'll see.

Weather, like life, is hard to predict and we only get so many days to sit inside while the storm does its thing outside. Hunker down, enjoy the blow.

French Toast

Every time there is a winter storm coming, the residents of St. Louis make french toast. Nobody talks about it, in fact I suspect that I am revealing a secret right now and may be unwittingly putting our lives here at risk. I am, however, willing to risk harm to get the truth out. So how did I, an outsider, come to possess this knowledge if nobody speaks of it?

It's simple: Deductive reasoning. Every time the weather people predict a storm, everyone heads out and purchases copious amounts of bread, milk and eggs. And what do you make with these three ingredients? FRENCH TOAST!

But wait, you may say, maybe they are buying other items to eat with their milk, bread, and eggs. Nope! Peanut butter and jelly are left on the shelves, flour and sugar can be found in every store and soup? Well, you'll find cans of all varieties hopefully waiting to be taken home. Alas, the soup waits in vain. We were in Wal-Mart earlier today and there was not one carton of eggs left on the shelf and bread was wiped out. There was plenty of soup, though!

Now that I posses this knowledge, what am I going to do? I would think it'd be obvious. I'm going to stockpile maple syrup and sell it to my neighbors at excessively high prices every time it snows!

Peanut Butter Frosting

I was informed today that I need to post more often... It's true. I've even made a goal to write more often. So what have I been up to? Well, today I made cupcakes from honey pound cake with peanut butter frosting. I wasn't horribly impressed with the cake- it didn't taste enough of honey and it needs something more- but the frosting was pretty tasty.

Since I followed the advise of commenters on a recipe, I need to write down the recipe as I made it and I may as well share in the process.

1 stick butter, room temperature
1 1/2 c creamy peanut butter (Skippy worked for me)
1 T Vanilla extract (I used the real stuff)
2 c powdered sugar
1/3 c heavy cream, plus maybe a little more

Cream together butter and peanut butter until you can't see any butter. Add vanilla and mix until it's incorporated.
Add one cup powdered sugar and, while mixing, slowly add about half the cream. Once that's incorporated, add the other cup of sugar and slowly drizzle in the rest of the cream while mixing. If your icing is too thick, or just not as creamy as you'd like, drizzle in a little more cream until you've reached a good consistency.

I didn't add any extra cream to mine and it was a tiny bit thicker than I'd have liked, but I was still able to spread it on my cupcakes without a problem. It was nice and fluffy and tasted like peanut butter deliciousness. I can imagine that it'd be good on brownies, chocolate cupcakes, graham crackers... And other things that are good with peanut butter.

So there's a post for you. I will try to be better about posting in the future. In the mean time, enjoy your frosting!

7:30 Christmas Morning

I'm awake. I intended to sleep in but my bladder had other plans and then my brain decided to agree. So I'm at my computer with the lights of the Christmas tree shining in the corner. I've spent Christmas without my family before but I'm feeling a little extra moody (sad really) and poor Branden has had to deal with me. When I was home, this was about the time that we'd finish opening gifts.

My parents never let us open anything the night before- something that Branden and I disagree about for our family. Christmas Eve was reserved for a dinner together and watching George C. Scott in A Christmas Carol. I remember begging to be allowed to open "Just one gift" but my parents always held their ground.

We were under strict orders not to wake our parents before 6 AM Christmas morning. I know we didn't always all cram into the same room to sleep- sometimes we did- but it seems that we always woke very early Christmas morning and ended up in the same room feeding off each others' excitement. At 6:00 on the dot the oldest child would go to wake Mom and Dad while the rest of us wrapped ourselves in blankets and lined up in age order. We had to wait for Dad to turn on the Christmas tree lights and he never failed to tell us that we should just go back to bed because Santa didn't come. Of course, Santa never actually forgot us.

After we'd seen our Santa gifts and our stockings had been explored, Dad began handing out gifts one at a time and we waited for each to be opened and shown off before the next was unwrapped. I loved to see my siblings open the gifts I'd so carefully selected for them. I feel the waiting and watching helped make things more about the giving than the getting. We didn't just rip into things, we took the time to appreciate the work that went into each gift and had the chance to talk and laugh in the meantime. That time also sparked some long-standing family jokes. (It's a... SWEATER!)

When every gift was out from under the tree the real mess began. Toys were removed from boxes and little parts and pieces were scattered around the living room. Despite Mom's instructions not to eat any candy before breakfast, chocolate made it into almost every mouth and wrappers scattered about with the toys. This was our time for chaos: when everyone wanted to look at and show off everything in the room. And then it was time for breakfast.

When we were young, Allan had a book called Daddy Makes the Best Spaghetti. Well, I disagree, Daddy makes the best breakfast! Eggs and bacon and fried potatoes and hot chocolate- actually, the hot chocolate was Mom's contribution- and all the best breakfast items made just for us on Christmas morning. Don't get me wrong, he made breakfast many other days of the year as well but Christmas... It was the one meal we were sure to eat. Our stockings were filled with candy,microwave popcorn, beef jerky, cans of olives and packets of nuts. (I STILL want those things in my stocking.) With all that to eat, we didn't necessarily have another full meal that day. Oh, my mom tried to get us to eat something else but let's just say it's a good thing breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

We spent the day watching new movies and playing new games. Maybe we'd go sledding on brand new sleds or just go outside and play in the snow. Maybe we'd even go out to a movie or go visit a sibling who'd celebrated Christmas morning with their own family. The rest of the day was a blur of candy and fun with a nap or two thrown in for good measure.

7:30 AM was my true Christmas Day. After the gifts were unwrapped but before we had scattered to whatever activities we were going to do that day. When everyone was happy and there was a kind of peaceful chaos. I am hoping to have that again one day with my very own family. In the mean time, I hope you and yours enjoy your own 7:30 Christmas Morning feeling no matter what time of the day it arrives. Merry Christmas!

"I Want To Be Someone Who Believes"

I don't remember how old I was when I stopped believing in Santa Claus but I was probably too young... Definitely no older than six. Santa, or more accurately my belief in Santa, was the unfortunate victim of my older sister's need-to-know and her ability to get into the locked bedroom containing our Christmas gifts.

A few days ago I was standing in Hobby Lobby staring at a blue and silver sign that said "Believe" and debating whether or not to purchase when it hit me, something that everyone else probably already knows and it just took me a long time to figure out: Christmas is about believing.

It's the belief that there was a baby born in a stable and laid in a manger. It's the belief that a new star lead shepherds, and later wise men, to that stable. It's the belief that that baby went on to change the world in a big way.

It's the belief that there's a man in a red suit who gives gifts to good children. It's belief in the goodness of your fellow man. It's the belief that the magic and special feelings brought on by one special night can save Scrooge's soul or make the Grinch's heart grow... And it's the belief that those changes are permanent. It's belief in all the legends and stories of Christmas past.

Whatever else Christmas is about, it is first and foremost about believing. May you all find much to believe in this Christmas season and throughout the coming year.

Notably Positive

It is, indeed, the time of year when we count our blessings. It is true that we should count them every day- in a way, that's what my Notably Positive blogs are about- but this time of year we tend to try harder, think longer and take an extra moment for gratitude. I admit that I haven't always done a very good job. This week has been... Emotional and trying for me so it's time for me to count my blessings.

We have the Little Car That Could. I know I just posted about this but I'm still grateful that I have it. When Branden told me this past Monday that he'd taken his car to the shop and the transmission was gone, I admit that I cried. But we still have a car. How blessed am I to have the money to own two cars. How blessed am I to have a family who, without a second thought, GAVE me a little car that meets my needs. How lucky am I to have found a husband who does everything in his power and learns new things to keep that car running. The Little Car That Could is many, many blessings rolled into one.

I have a husband who loves me. First off, I LOVE having a husband. Second, all those bitter people I met who told me that marriage changes everything were both right and wrong. Oh, things changed. There's a new sense of security, a permanence that means we'll both try our best because walking away isn't an option. With that, there's a renewed effort to meet needs. I'm not always good at this. Branden asks for little and most of what he asks for is not to give but to let be... I'm not good at letting be. I'm much better at giving. I do try, Love. (Yep, he reads this, too. Which brings me to how lucky I am to have a husband who cares about the things I write and wants to know my thoughts.) I appreciate the efforts I see him making to meet my needs and do the things I ask. I can be incredibly impatient and he still loves me and hugs me. And I love him, too, which makes life just that much better. :)

I have a bed. I don't remember the exact circumstances- maybe Katie does- but Katie's friend once told her that she should be thankful that she has a bed. That has stuck with me and I have shared it with others. If you have a bed that is yours, that means you have a place to live, a place to lay your head at night. It may not be the most amazing mattress ever made and it may not be in the most beautiful house but you have something others dream of. No matter how bad things get, no matter how much you think your life sucks, just remember and be thankful that you have a bed. I have a bed that I share with my husband- see above paragraph if you missed that I'm thankful for him- and even though the *insert strings of swear words here* cat peed on it yesterday and is never again allowed in the bedroom, the bed has been cleaned and there are fresh sheets and blankets on it. I am thankful for those sheets and blankets, as well, and the technology that allows me to get them washed and dried in a matter of a few hours rather than an entire day.

I have sisters who love me. I will admit here and now that I am horrendously jealous of a couple of them right now and it's been an emotional week because I want what they are going to have so badly BUT I still love them and they are sweet enough to include me in what is going on with their lives. I feel so lucky to have been able to develop the relationship that Chantelle and I have now. There was a time that I would have said we are too different to ever be close, but I would have been wrong. And I am so incredibly blessed to have the relationship that I have with Katie. I don't know if I do anywhere near the amount of stuff for her that she does for me and I can never repay her for all the love and understanding she sends my way. She's an amazing woman and when I called her to cry, she let me and helped me feel better as only she can. I am thankful for Bekkie and the knowledge and wisdom she has to share. We don't talk as often as we should but I enjoy every conversation. I am thankful for Carrie and all the support she has given me. I am thankful for Christina and the sweetness and love she has in her heart. I miss her hugs. I should note that I am also thankful for my brothers and their wives and my sisters' husbands but this is really about my sisters. :)

I know this isn't quite like my other Notably Positive posts but these are some things I've been thinking about. These things have brought me feelings of gratitude and I needed to share.

The Little Car That Could

First, I admit that I've been procrastinating posting because I need to post wedding pictures and every time that I go to post I feel guilty that I haven't yet... But things are happening and the pictures will get up and I'm not going to stop posting just because I've been picture-lazy. Now for the post!

We have two cars. Branden's car is newer than mine by seven years, it has A/C, it's an automatic and we thought it was more reliable. Now that we can carpool to work- Huzzah for saving money!- we've been driving his car to prolong the life of my car. As it turns out, his car really isn't more reliable and now needs a new transmission. Since that will cost more than the car is worth, we are going to try to sell it as a parts car and buy an new-to-us car which won't be any newer but will hopefully run better.

Until such time as we purchase a vehicle, we are back to driving the Little Car That Could. I seriously can't believe how much this car has been through. Nobody thought it would last this long and we've been expecting it to die for a while now. Just as a reminder, this is a 1991 Nissan Stanza with something like 240,000 miles on it. It's been through multiple drivers, at least one car accident, a deericide, many trips from Northern to Southern UT and back again, at least once weekly from Kamas to Ogden and back for 6 months, 1300 miles out to St. Louis and a 40 mile round trip 5 days a week for more than a year. And somehow it's hanging in there, if only just. It so reminds me of the little engine who chugged up the hill saying, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can."

That said, eventually it's going to give up. Please, everyone send good energy our way in whatever form you practice. We just need it to keep going, well, technically forever but no less than 6 months. :)