T-Giving and the adventures of food

 

 

 

Just three days to Thanksgiving! All the food excitement wafts through Mom's kitchen.  

The pies were cooling on our huge freezer, Grandma's pumpkin pudding. Mom's sisters appear with some special dishes, and the cornucopia fills the table. The eating is legend.

                                                        
All the post dinner stuff starts. My own sister and I are in the sink duty. This will last for an hour or more.

The pumpkin desert is cut and handed out to the adults. Our cows gave us cream, which mean whipped cream. Good stuff.

Next year? Who knows what will fill our plates then?

Sister to Sister

Mary and Martha

16 October 1998

Dear Martha,

Your letter pulled me from a pit of despair.  If ever there were awards for "Surviving a Plethora of Childhood Illnesses", I would be inducted into the Hall of Frantic Mother Fame.

The triplets have developed a chain of cursed plagues:  Influenza, chicken pox (vaccine, right?), strep throat, ear infections, and worms (really?). Each had one different sickness at a time. Clarisse had chicken pox, while the boys had ear infections. Then the train kept rolling through the house.

Is this God's thunderbolt of retribution for swearing during Mass?Loudly swearing at Clarisse-the-She-Devil? I mean, she fully deserved it. No one, cute or not, should crawl under the pews singing a beer commercial.

As you know, my house was never a museum, but now a City Inspector could cover the house with "Condemned" yellow tape. One time, someone taped a "Quarantine" notice on my door. It was misspelled. Probably it was that bitchy blonde next door who has no children. I have lit many candles at church, praying for her fertility.

Must go. Alex-the-Spontaneous is vomiting on the cat. Christopher-the-Wild is smearing vomit on the bathroom mirror. Thank you, Lord, that it is not diarrhea. So far, so good.

I do not know what is next on the roster, but I suspect diarrhea will finally land on and all over our house. Or maybe I will be vomiting on the carpet. Could be both.

Your sister,

Mary-the-Desperate

P.S. Help me, dear Lord, please oh please. Help me.

I followed a blog written by a mother with a 4 yr. old preschooler, and then triplets. I think of her now and then, since her blog is inactive.  In fact, when I see a mom with twins along with a few other young siblings, I pray for her and them. Date above is random. Names come from another blog I have now inactive "Chronicles of Samuel".

This post has been unearthed from six years ago. Completely rewrote it.  Still kept the triplets and swearing during mass thing. And, of course, vomiting. One has to insert vomiting whenever possible.

Oh, and this post went up accidently a few days before for May 27. My bad. Hadn't quite finished it.  

Sisters Hold Each Other Up

Mary is my only sister, with three brothers who made our lives a living hell at times. While I was vulnerable in many ways, Mary gave them a smug smile and blasted them out of their turbulent waters with acerbic honest words. I do not have enough words to relate who she is, how she blesses my life and my admiration for her. 

Mary and Bill, running away from home (I love this photo.)

Mary is holding her horsey, I am holding my new bride doll (Christmas 1958).

Mary is stubborn, especially when it comes to her children.  Maybe it should be said a "Stubborn and Fierce Tiger".  Mary was always devoted to excellent teaching and education, and did not accept anything less. 

In fact, I always said that when Mary stepped on elementary school grounds, the earth shook.  Teachers shivered in fear, stood up straight and tall, and resolved to be better teachers from there on. 

Mary is a fighter.

She is generous, in time and giving.  Many of her friends have had surgeries and illnesses, some very serious.  Mary is always there, giving food for the family and assistance in any way needed. Driving to a doctor's appointments? Helping around the house? Anything else?  Mary gives of herself unfailingly.

Mary has a black belt in Taekwondo, along with a red strip to advance her to higher levels.  Don't mess with her.

She completes projects she starts.  This cannot be said of many people, if not most people.

I won't volunteer her for a gold medal or sainthood, because I have known her for the better part sixty years. This gives me info and insights that all families share about each other.

Recently, my quilting skills plummeted drastically.  Migraines, concussion, Bell's Palsy, and other issues have taken away aspects of quilting, including joy. This is incredibly saddening.

So many unfulfilled plans

This fabric was for a project that I had never begun.  Mary has an enormous stash (that means, shelves and boxes of fabric), yet was willing to add more to it.  God bless her.  These beautiful fabrics and plans had hung over my head, piling on guilt upon guilt.

Mary is a superb quilter AND I mean superb.  Her eye for colors and design is amazing.  And she loves patterns that involve sharp points and precision, as well as applique. Any quilter understands what a pain those can be. 

Mary created a magnificent quilt for me using fabric from her stash and the above fabric, excluding the solid teal.  She told me that a box was on its way to me and to call her when it arrived. When the box arrived and I lifted the quilt from it, I cried.  Hugging it to my chest, I went from our room to the guest room, laying this incredible quilt over each.

This quilt will be displayed on my "art wall". It was a family photos wall, but they can always go somewhere else. This absolutely has to be seen by more than just my eyes.

This gift has me opening up my own stash and perusing what can be made from all that fabric.  Already have a baby quilt in the works and I will finish a project started pre-concussion. 

Sisters are different from each other for sure. What stands true is that we share our lives past and present, and that we love each other as only sisters can. I am blessed to be a part of Mary's life.*

Minerva, Rosemary, Grandma Marie Cardiff, Mom, and Vada

August 1970 at a cousin's wedding

 As in every family, each was radically different from their siblings in every way possible. Despite their many differences, each loved the other passionately. All have passed except for Aunt Vada, who recently suffered a stroke.  

*I named our youngest daughter after my sister.  Like Aunt Mary, my daughter Mary is a tiger.  One cowers when she aims a withering look. Don't mess with her either.

Passion of the Pearl: Letter P

Souce: namu project

The Letter P

Could it be perfume, pink, pandering, pancakes ...?

Strong to my traditional form, the letter P is for:
Pearl

Pearl harbored serious obsession here.

This Pearl is Great-Aunt Pearl, whom I knew only by reputation and photos. Grandmother Amy was the oldest of three sisters with the middle sister Grace and youngest sister Pearl. 

In 1911, Pearl was in high school, with all the expectations of any young woman in the early 1900s, which were basically marriage, children, and home.


But, OH, first came the tender innocent love, romance with its soft touches, shy kisses, sweet words...

In her English textbook, Pearl practiced writing her name, over and over.  Other pages were covered with doodles and sketches, dreamy sketches of young men.  
Even her perception of Hell expressed a passionate moment in her life.

This textbook must have been all over the classroom, passed from girl to girl.  Squelched giggles and hurried scribbles asked and answered questions.  Comments and questions (what did he say about me?...Certainly I know that YOU know!..Girls are made to flirt with men---But men with girls??  Oh! No!...) ***

 Pearl's dreams of romance were recorded for a great-niece to find:

The drawings and notes were found in History of English Literature by Reuben Post Halleck, M.A  (Yale), published by the American Book Company in 1900.

Pearl married shortly after graduation, at the age of eighteen or so.  The man she married was named Fred, who was rather plain and balding early, liked to fish, and was not greatly ambitious.  He was the very antithesis of the ideal heroic man of her dreams. 

On March 6, 1913, in a double wedding, Pearl married Fred Funk AND
her sister Grace married John Friend.

Whenever I asked my grandmother about her sister Pearl, she would sigh and say, "Oh, Pearl..."

I was an over-achiever.  I never did any of this.  Seriously.


Imagine what Pearl and her friends could have done with Smart Phones.

***Copied from the text book, written in pencil.

Now, what did YOU do during a high school class?  Be honest, now!