Tag Archives: together

Chocolate Chip Cookies

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My mother loved to cook.  That is to say, she loved to bake.  Everyday meals were not her forte, but desserts and special occasions were her real love.

She had a real sweet tooth (which I inherited!), and so we had a dessert at every meal. Yes, even breakfast had something sweet and yummy.

Mother was well known for her homemade pies, especially apple.  The crust was always crispy and golden.  Daddy loved her apple pie with a slice of cheese on it.  I think he learned that growing up in South Dakota.

Christmas was a big baking time.   She would start in September, making cookies, candies, bars and pies. Everyone would get something – the mailman to the doctor’s office to the pharmacy to all the neighbors.

There was always something in the cookie jar and more stacked in the freezer, waiting for the right occasion.  Mother never went to visit anyone empty-handed. That was her rule, “Never go out with a bare face or an empty hand.”

The one item that brings back the most memories of my childhood is Mother’s chocolate chip cookies.  Just the aroma of the cookies baking makes me feel like a girl in her kitchen, helping her bake.  I suddenly feel all warm and safe with a smile on my face, eager to see how the cookies turn out.

Then there is the joy of tasting the first warm cookie from the oven.  That was always “cook’s treat” at Mother’s house.

My daughter feels the same about my chocolate chip cookies. When she takes a bite now, she closes her eyes and sighs, “Ah, my childhood in a cookie!”

Her son, Mac, says my chocolate chip cookies are the best.  Little does he know he’s talking about Mother’s recipe, passed down through all these years.

And I bet his children and their children will say the same.

Peggy’s Chocolate Chip Cookies

  • 2 1/4 C all purpose flour
  • 1 C packed brown sugar
  • 1 C Crisco
  • 1 C white sugar
  • 2 eggs
  • 2 t vanilla
  • 1 t soda
  • 1 t salt
  • 2 T water
  • 12 oz. semisweet chips

Cream sugars and Crisco.  Add eggs.   Sift salt and soda with flour. Add to creamed mixture.   Add water. Add chips by hand.   Drop onto cookie sheet by spoonful . Bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes.  Cool on rack.

Life Lessons From Children

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The older I get, the more I realize that children have some of the best answers to the basic questions of life.  They seem to instinctively know how to manage the twists and turns of everyday living.

With all my education, experience and wisdom, I have learned to look to a five-year-old for some of the wisest lessons in getting through life.

Here are my top ten favorites:

Play is the best medicine.  Children have the ability to play with anything, anytime.  It’s how they release their emotions and feelings.  It’s also how they heal themselves.

Take a nap when you’re tired.  Children can sleep anywhere, when they need to.  What a great gift is that!

Always greet your elders with a hug and a kiss.  This is good advice your whole life – no matter how old you are.  Grannies always love to be greeted this way.

Every day is a fresh start.  No matter what happens today, no matter how bad it is or who hurts them, tomorrow is always a new day to a child.  All is forgotten and everything is possible again.  Each morning is a clean slate.

Be courageous.  Sing out loud.  Dance to the music.  Children are not confined by fear of failure or shame.  They embrace life.

Laugh every day.  Children see silliness everywhere.  Look for the humor in your everyday life.

Be active.  Get up and move.   Go outside. Find something to do.  Contact a friend. Children rarely sit in a rocking chair staring into space, thinking about the past.

Scars are badges of honor.  Scars are sources of pride to children, not signs of weakness.  Be proud of your scars.  Tell the story.   Make yourself the hero.  Pass on the wisdom.

Try new things.   Children do not fear the unknown.  They will try a new game, dive into a pool or jump on a trampoline.  Be adventurous.  Get out of your comfort zone.  Step into the unknown.

Notice the little things.  Children can be fascinated by the smallest of things – ants crossing a sidewalk, the tiny feet of birds, the wings of a bumblebee.  The things we take for granted bring them great joy.  Take notice of all the small miracles around you, and see how much more beautiful your life will be.

Becoming more childlike is one of the wisest things we can do as we age.

Family

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The one thing I always wanted was family.  I loved the thought of having many cousins, aunts and uncles.  I always wanted a sister.  I thrived on large family gatherings.

Having said all that, family is the one thing I was never blessed with.  I don’t relate to either of my brothers.  One just doesn’t respond in any way.  The other was in the prison system most of his adult life and died early.

My mother died at age fifty and none of her family has spoken to us since then.  My dad’s family has never related to us in all these years.  I have cousins I have never met, seen or talked to.

Because Gramps is a genealogist, I know more about my distant relatives than I do about relatives my own age.  It broke my heart as a child.  Wanting what I couldn’t have and having no way to fix it.  I had no power to get the family I wanted, when I was young.

When I got married and had children, I thought now I had the family I was looking for.  I had a devoted husband and two children.

Except now our son is not speaking to us.  Our daughter and her family live nearby but we only see them about once a month.  But lucky me, I have our niece who has become our daughter and her five children, who have become our grandchildren.  We see them a couple times a year and those times are so special.

Still there are no large family gatherings.  No extended family to relate to.

So I have devised my own way to have a family.  I have friends that care about me the way a relation would.  Some of these friends have been in my life for many years and some are recent acquaintances.  But all of them fill a hole in my heart and my life.

My friends share my love of sewing and quilting.  We love to sit together with fabric, needle and thread in our hands, sharing our thoughts about everything.  We care for each other in good times and difficult times.

My friends call me.  They check-up on me.  They ask me if I’m okay.  I do the same for them.

My friends invite me for dinner and holidays.  We have lunch together.  We share potlucks and buffets.

My friends share my good news and are happy for me.  They hold my hand and cry with me if the news is bad.  My friends do not abandon me – ever.

My friends are my family.   My lifetime wish has been fulfilled.  I have many sisters now.  I have gatherings large and small.  I have the equivalent of dozens of cousins.

The one thing I always wanted, I now have to my heart’s content.  I couldn’t be happier.

A Waitress At Walgreens

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When I was in high school – let’s see, that was in the 60’s! – our Walgreens had a restaurant area.  It was sort of a diner with a counter with stools.  Very retro now, but commonplace at the time.

I worked there after school and for two summers my last year of high school.  I was the youngest one there, not counting the busboys.

Even so, I was always on the cash register when I worked.  I never understood that.  Was I the only one that could count?

I did learn to give change the proper way, however, which is a big pet peeve of mine to this day, when I get all my change handed to me in a pile.  I don’t know what to do with a clump of change.

Anyway, we carried everything on big metal trays.  Until the day I spilled six tall milk shakes in glass containers that broke when they hit the floor.  That was an interesting day.

I learned to carry five plates of food at one time.  I can still do that today.  It really impresses the grandchildren.

Every Saturday, I manned the counter, which was a nightmare.  Hundreds of kids coming in, wanting a water and a Coke.  I would tell them, “You can have one or the other, not both.”  I wasn’t going to work that hard for no tip.

And usually on those Saturdays, I didn’t make enough in tips to buy my meal.

And then once a month we had a hot dog stand, which was manned by, guess who?  Yes, me!  Again, a million kids and no tips.  A waitress’s nightmare.

But did I learn a lot working in the little diner!  The experience changed my life totally for the better.

Whenever I got discouraged about continuing on in school, I would look at the other waitresses.  They were mostly single, in their forties, supporting families on what they made working at our little Walgreens.  The encouraged me daily to stay in school and further my education.

I learned perserverence and devotion from a wonderful man who brought his autistic son to the counter every Saturday.  It was their routine.  The son never spoke but the dad always laughed and smiled.  He seemed to be having the best time, when it must have been so difficult for him.

Two of my favorite waitresses pierced my ears in the stock room one day.  My one single act of rebellion in high school.  It felt wonderful and I wasn’t a bit afraid.

One of the greatest things I learned from those wonderful waitresses was to be kind and gracious to everyone.  Greet everyone with a smile and a lilt in your voice.  Give a bit more than is asked of you.  And always be proud of your work.  Whatever you do, do your best. Work as a team.

While I was working there, a few waitresses learned that the busboys were eating some of the leftover food they were picking up from the tables.  This bothered them so, that they got other waitresses to start splitting their tips with the boys so they could buy their meals. This really impressed me at the time and has stayed with me my whole life.  The fact that people who have so little would be willing to give to those who have even less.  I’ve never forgotten.

Those days at Walgreens were wonderful.  I learned to be a fast and efficient waitress.  I learned to talk “diner.”  I learned what return customers meant by “the usual.”

I learned to be responsible and handled money.  I became more grown up.  I took my lickings with a smile.  I was proud of my paycheck.

I owe those waitresses a lot.  More than they ever knew.  They helped my grow.  They helped me mature.  They kept me in school.

In so many ways they have affected my whole life.

Thank you, ladies!

The Best Things About Being A Woman

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Okay, I’ll admit it!  I’m a woman!  And proud of it!  Maybe I wasn’t always – proud, that is.

I remember wishing as a young chil that I could be strong like a boy and do some of the things the boys could do.  But age brings wisdom and now I bask in my womanhood.

I think women have so many options these days in so many arenas of life.  We can be gentle and strong, quiet and loud, a follower and a leader, a teacher and a student, a stay-at-home mom and a CEO.  We can be anything we can envision or dream.

Women are the heart and soul of the family. We set the mood and tone of the whole unit through our interactions with each individual.  As the old saying goes, “When mama’s happy, everyone’s happy.”

We are allowed, by society, a much broader range of emotions and emotional responses than men.  How refreshing it is to to be able to express ourselves in such a true manner and to know we have an arsenal of feelings at our disposal.

Women are blessed with the ability to bear children.  It’s a special gift given and should be viewed as such.  It creates a bond with a child that is unique in the world.  I wouldn’t trade motherhood for anything.

We women have a special bond with each other.  Having sisters in heart is a great privilege and great fun.  I can’t imagine getting through life without the support and love of my friends and fellow females.  We form the most wonderful little villages of interests, concern and hobbies, and build into forts of protection, help and family.

Women influence the world just by being who they are.  They don’t have to go through somebody else or be somebody else to make a positive mark.

Every good word I speak makes a mark.  Every good example I set makes a mark.  Every positive act I support makes a mark.

I am a woman and I love it.  I’m right where I’m supposed to be and doing what I have been charged to do – make a difference.

My Life Lately

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Things are so different right now, I am having trouble adjusting.  I used to have a full schedule.  I knew what I was going to do every day.  My calendar was black from written-in events for the month.

Now the calendar is blank white, my schedule is empty and every day I have to think about what to do with my time.  My life has completely changed on a dime with no preparation or warning.

Building a good day does not just happen on its own anymore.  I have to plan it.When I wake up, I have to decide this is going to be a good day.  Attitude is everything.

Taking it a day at a time can be too hard under the current stress.  It’s better to look at the short term and maybe take it hour by hour.  I find if I set very small goals, I do much better.  Being successful six times a day feels so good right now or even just twice is okay.

My sewing is giving me a lot of pleasure right now.  It is lovely to be able to touch and pet my fabrics at a time when I cannot touch others.  My sewing also gives me purpose and calms my mind.

I can be at my sewing machine for hours and not even realize how much time has passed. It’s good therapy for me in many ways.  Sewing helps me make a day good.

I’ve also found that what I look for, I find.  If I look for humor in my day, I usually find it.  The same with beauty, joy and peace.

Of course, if I set my mind on anxiety and stress, I will find that too.  It’s up to me.  It’s always up to me.

Even when I can’t hug them, my friends remain so valuable to me.  I try to stay in touch with them as often as possible.  I make a point to call someone every day.  And occasionally have group meetings online, when able.  Seeing friends’ faces is so precious.

And then there’s my sweetie, who makes everyday a joy.  He adds calmness, humor and logic to my life.  How blessed am I to have such a rock in my life.   He makes all things bearable and worthwhile.

So getting through these times will take planning, forethought and some organization. Keeping a positive attitude is the harder, but more important part.

I have to give it my all each and every day.  Each and every hour really.  But these are historic times.  Think of the stories I will have to tell in the years to come.

A Good Movie Plot

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My mother was born in a hospital in a small town in South Dakota. She was the youngest of all girls.

My dad was born in the same hospital four days later. He was the youngest of all boys.

My two grandmothers met each other in the hospital, of course and joked about how they should trade babies so they would have a different sex child in the family. That did not happen!

But the two children grew up knowing each other from day one. My mother recalled, in kindergarten, that my father brought cupcakes in for his birthday four days after she had brought cupcakes in for her birthday. She wasn’t impressed at the time.

I’d say she wasn’t much impressed with my dad for most of the years they were in school. He was pretty wild for his time and she was very shy.

In high school, they dated some. My dad was a cheerleader. I still have a hard time imagining that but it was an activity with some status. He was part of the group of kids that went to mom’s house often.

I think he began to fall in love with her in those years. She was very cute and lots of fun.

During WWII, they both joined the military. My dad went into the CB’s and mother became a Marine. I don’t think they saw each much during those years but they exchanged letters a lot.

It was always expected that mother would marry another boy from home. But somewhere in there Daddy proposed to her. I believe they were both on leave at the time.

Mother said she was on a train coming home, having to decide which man to marry, when a vision of her deceased mother appeared to her. The vision told her it was alright to marry my dad.

Mother always said she knew in her heart that was the right choice for her and had no second thoughts from that moment on.

They were married in the small town in South Dakota with both families in attendance. Myself and my two brothers arrived not long after. A family was born.

I’ve always thought that my parents’ story would make the best plot for a movie. I’m thinking Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed would play my parents. In fact they even look a bit like my folks. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful tribute?

Lunch In The Car

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With the current situation in play and all the cancellations of activities, I have come to realize how often I went out to lunch.  Quilters, I now know, are a noshing group.

Every meeting I went to was followed by lunch.  Every sewing group involved a meal or some snacks.  Every gathering of our Bee included breakfast AND lunch.

And then there was the occasional social event which was always centered around food. Eating was a big part of all my activities.  How did I not know this before?

I guess I knew it but just took it for granted.  It was always there, available, easy, reliable, comforting.  Adding a bit of spice and good taste to every occasion.  Giving every event a time for us to bond and be relaxed.

But two weeks ago everything changed.  Eating establishments began to close or sort of close.  Gathering places weren’t available.

Then my friend Lynn called.  She already had cabin fever and wanted out of the house. “Let’s go to lunch!” I suggested.  She was excited to go.

We met at a Mexican food place.  As soon as we entered, it was obvious no one was eating inside.  We could do take out.  But go where?

“Let’s eat in my car,” Lynn said.  So we did.  We sat in the front seat of her car eating tacos and quesadillas.  We talked.   We laughed.  We cried. (Lynn had lost a relative recently).  We made plans.  We shared sewing projects.  We spilled salsa on ourselves.

All the things we would normally have done at any lunch, we did in the front seat of her car.  It was wonderful.  Magical even.

I think when this virus quarantine is all over, Lynn and I will go out to lunch again.  And we’ll eat in the car, for old time’s sake.

What I’m Really Afraid Of

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In these trying times, the TV is constantly telling us what we should fear – closeness, touching, disease, crowds, people, coughs, germs, viruses.  These things may be of concern to me, but I’m not really afraid.  There are other things that truly frighten me.

Allowing people, especially children, to live in hunger frightens me.  People are so damaged physically and psychologically by the effects of poor nutrition or no nutrition. That, in turn, damages our whole world.  We all become less by the loss of potential in others.   Leaders, teachers, thinkers and artists are lost because of poverty and hunger.

Allowing hate and bigotry to exist frightens me.  Judging people unfairly by their religion or skin color is so divisive.  Teaching children to hate others is so wicked as to be absolutely sinful.  Our world can’t abide any more division and war.

Allowing and participating in greed frightens me.  Greed leads to the oppression and subjugation of people.  There’s enough for everyone but not enough for everyone’s greed. To meet the needs of someone’s greed, someone else will always have to do without. Hence more poverty and hunger.

Abiding violence frightens me.  Our violent selves are our lesser selves and should not be tolerated.  What comes of violence is more violence, not peace.  And that really scares me.

These are the true dangers of our world, I believe.  These are the things we need be aware of and mindful of.

Even while we are quarantined, we can be aware of the needs of others.  We can be fair and kind to all people.  We can share the wealth with everyone.  We can be calm and gentle in all our interactions.

The treatment of the whole world starts with our treatment of every person in our small world.  How we act in every little situation will affect the entire universe.  We can do healing or harm with every spoken word.

Make every action count.  It will become your habit and your character.

My Favorite Possessions

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I think about the things I would try to save if there were a fire in my house.  Those objects that are precious, have memories attached to them and can’t be replaced.   Those possessions that can give you a hug and a good feeling just by being there, being seen and being touched.

I have several of these irreplaceable items Some are out to be seen.  Some are safely tucked away.  And some are used daily.

My quilts are very important to me, but one is especially precious.  It’s hanging on the wall in our guest bedroom.  It’s so valuable to me because it is made from linens stitched by my grandmother and mother.  There are tablecloths, towels, napkins, dresser scarves and doilies in the quilt.  Then it is bordered in colorful handkerchiefs.

I can just feel those women around me when I am in the presence of that quilt.  It’s like a great big hug.  It speaks to me through its stitches and linens.  I would definitely grab it first, if there was a fire or a flood.

My great-grandmother’s bedroom set is in our bedroom.  Gramps and I have used it since we were married.   My grandmother was born in that bed.  It is made of cherry wood and is very ornate – very Victorian.  It has a tall headboard and footboard.

I can’t even tell you how cuddled and comforted I feel in Gram’s big bed.  I can just imagine the generations of women dusting those wooden boards and changing the linens and fluffing the pillows.  It’s an honor to keep up the tradition of loving my bed.  My dilemma?  I’m not sure I could carry it out in a disaster.

Now my mother’s silver tea set is very portable in case of a calamity.  It’s tucked away in a cupboard because we never use it anymore.  That’s not to say I don’t get it out and pet it periodically.  My mother had it sitting on the buffet, always polished and always shiny.  It reminds me of her in many ways.  She too was always polished and shiny.

I have some of my Daddy’s tools, which also are not very useful but are a treasure to me. He was a carpenter in the CB’s during WW II and was a general all-around fix-it kind of guy.  To have those tools that were used and touched by him so many times is a gift for me.  When I see them, I can almost hear him working and banging away on some project. Thinking of it now almost brings tears to my eyes.

Then there’s the diamond ring that Gramps gave me many years ago as a birthday present.  I wear it all the time.  It’s a daily reminder of his love and devotion to me. Coincidentally, the large diamond in the center is surrounded by six smaller diamonds, exactly the number of grandchildren we have.

The whole ring is a little remembrance of my entire family – all three generations.  I don’t go anywhere without it.

So obviously, all these possessions could not be gotten out of the house very rapidly.  But they could in a slow evacuation.  And you know what?  It doesn’t matter if I have any of these items really.

Because I carry all the people and memories in my heart, where they are safe from every disaster and can never be lost.