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Life in My World

August 6, 2007

            I’ve been reading a book that I have put off reading for 26 years.  It’s a thinker book and surprisingly I’m really, really, really enjoying it.  It’s very readable; albeit I decided today to start writing down some of the words and looking them up in the dictionary.  I can understand the book without looking them up, but they are such important sounding words I want to use them myself.

            This morning after the girls and I went on a walk we ate breakfast—bran muffins, cereal, peaches and pears.  We had to go easy on the milk, but it held out.  We’re one of those families that have several different fatnesses of milk in our fridge—whole for Abe and the occasional, late evening bowl of cereal for Calvin, 1% for me and Ande, and skim for Cali.  (I don’t mind skim except it doesn’t hold its cold very well.  Who’d have guessed fat was an insulator in milk as well as people and seals?)

            After breakfast/scriptures/prayers I cleaned the kitchen and got the laundry going.  Somehow Abe and Ande sneaked their loads in with mine.  Abe hates doing laundry—he is not particular about it and since the launderer does it at the Academy and a nay did it on his mission for him, he’s not very good at it either.  Today while he is packing he asked if I could help him out with his laundry, it turns out Ande had asked Abe if they could do theirs together and so it all ended up in our hamper.  I had forgotten how much I appreciate the petite little loads Calvin and I have.

            Next, I tackled the garden, well a third of it anyway.  I picked the beans and pulled the weeds from the beans to the watermelons.  I love watching the progress of watermelons—one day they’re the size of a marble, the next they’re a golf-ball and a few days after that they’re like a big nerf ball.  Amazing.  I had Abe deliver a brown basket full of red potatoes and green beans to a friend who is swamped and whose husband has been in the hospital—the colors were so pretty in the basket it was almost as nice as a bouquet.

            We’ve got a setting hen again.  She pecked a hole in my hand a few days ago when I was robbing her eggs.  I almost decided to let her hatch a few until I went out the next morning and she’d gotten confused and changed nests.  Amnesia and motherhood don't mix, so I'm keeping her eggless.  Truth be told, I don't even think she knows they're missing.

            I picked some peaches this afternoon and peeled and sliced them for Ande since she’s making pies today.  Abe has requested an apple pie and Calvin a peach one and since she is by far the better pie maker between the two of us, she gladly made them.  Abe is heading back to West Point early in the morning and he asked if he could make us Filipino Chicken Curry for supper.  He’s also making a dessert that has whipping cream and sweetened condensed milk in it—ew, la, la, I’m not even thinking about the calories in it, let alone what the pie alamode will add.  I’m just remembering that the kids are willing to cook and it would be terribly ungracious, rude and unmotherly of me not to eat what they prepared.  Motherhood demands nobility. 

            We’ve gotten a couple of letters from Ty and he sounds excited, happy and enthusiastic.  I love happy letters.

            Cali has been busy working all day. We went to a potluck recently and there was one dish that was a pot of chicken bones.  Truly.  It had cooked so long there was no meat on the bones and they were floating in a whitish sauce with greenish leaves with nary a piece of meat to be seen.  It was unappetizing and Cali pointed to the pot and whispered, “Who would think bones would go over at a potluck?  What were they thinking?”  Later, when she saw an older bachelor carry the pan away she winced and said, “Why didn’t I think to take a huge heaping serving of those bones?  Even if I’d have thrown it away then at least he wouldn’t be the only one whose food didn’t get eaten.”  I told her not to worry, he was probably thrilled he wouldn’t have to cook for several meals, just gnaw on a bone or two.  But I felt badly for him, too, and wished I’d have thought to take a couple of servings myself.  My grandma used to bring fudge or cake to our house and then watch to see how fast it disappeared.  So she wouldn’t be disappointed, I use to sneak a big plate of it and hide it under my bed so that she would feel good.  It was plain satisfying to see Cali have the same idea 25 years later.

            And that’s life in my world?________________________________________________________________________________________

Please send your comments to jp@neighborjanepayne.com  Thanks!  They’re always appreciated.  

         I had to laugh about the "sneaking" in part of the laundry. Is this what I have to look forward to?  Your peaches look amazing. What I would do to jump in and taste one.  How is it that the older the kids get the busier it is? Crazy. Hope you are having a great evening :)  Jenny

I love life in your world. Love the 'bone' soup story. I am always so leary at potlucks (I would want to know what you brought). Next time I'll think about the weird food going home and making someone feel bad. I hope your curry chicken was good! Love, Melanie

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Newsletter Snippet—Double Effort

August 3, 2007

            Today I went to a funeral.  I didn’t know the man.  I didn’t know his wife.  I knew his son, who has many challenges—physical and social.  Gathered from the messages spoken, my friend’s father also had many hardships.  The overwhelming tone of the funeral was that there lay a man who was misjudged much of his life, but he returned good for ill and never held malice towards those who held prejudices against him.  My friend’s aunt tearfully apologized for not being as kind to her brother as he was to her and for being embarrassed of him.  She pleaded with her fellow-mourners to take a look at their relationships and build and repair them while they had a chance.  The church was filled to capacity and there were people there from every class of society.  Several dabbed their eyes and nodded their heads in agreement with the messages, my friend’s father had obviously touched many people and crossed boundaries that some never attempt.

            One of the speakers at the funeral mentioned that life is like a river and it’s all downhill once we’re born—we’re headed for the end the moment we breathe.  He then talked about the obstacles and dams in our way and said they could refine us and make us more powerful or they could divert us from our course.  He mentioned that losing a loved one was like a dam and we could learn from the life of the one lost and improve our lives for the good of others or we could simply be diverted.  He challenged us to be more generous and gracious like the man who’d passed away.

            As I was observing the people and listening to the speakers I thought of the NJP newsletter this morning about doubling our efforts.  My friend has to double his efforts (compared to mine) just to make it through a day.  He’ll never drive a car; he’ll always peddle his bike or ask for a ride when he needs to go somewhere.  He’ll probably never marry or begin his own family, but will continue to receive most of his joy from friends who accept him.  “When the going gets tough, the tough get going” is more than a trite phrase for my friend, it is his life.  I came away from the funeral of a man who I did not know with a doubled desire to channel my river.

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part of the roofing crew

Gift-Giving Tip

August 2, 2007

            A few weeks ago my 20-year-old niece, Rachel, came to visit.  I like to think she came to visit the whole family and yet, it amazingly coincided with the time that Ty was home. 

            This week my 22-year-old nephew, Levi, is here visiting.  I like to think he came to visit the whole family and yet, it amazingly coincides with the time that Abe is home.

            Rachel and Ty are only a few weeks apart as are Levi and Abe.  We lived right next door to my sister and her family while the kids were little so they know and love each other well. 

            Levi and Abe have been working on the roof together and it’s fun to hear them—they have so many of the same characteristics they had as little boys and they still visit and visit and visit. 

            We started re-roofing three weeks ago, but haven’t finished it.  No, it’s not due to the immensity or the pitch of it . . . it has to do with . . . not getting it done yet.  But, I’ve become rather fond of perching on it in the evenings and watching the sunset and will be sad when it’s over.  My job as roofer is chief flunky.  I clean up trash, sweep and go for things the real roofers need—like a hammer or water or shingles or a cutting knife or cookies or supper.  Cali told the crew (Calvin and the kids) that I was only good for 15 minutes, but that is not so.  I have several responsibilities and so if they’re not using me, then I climb down the ladder and come in the house and do important things—like sending e-mails, checking blogs, changing the laundry, fixing meals, vacuuming, and cleaning.  Yesterday, I made a first-rate crock-pot stew full of vegetables from the garden with red lobster biscuits and a double batch of chocolate chip cookies because the cookie jar was empty.  Ande made some zippy and wonderfully good lemon bars, too.  This morning I made biscuits and gravy for Abe and Levi and then (going against my better judgment of “cooking to order like a restaurant”) made bran muffins for Ande and me.  I also picked some fresh peaches from the tree for breakfast, too, and then got a batch of bread made and some pizza dough started for supper.  Please tell me that I really am good for more than 15 minutes and that I am justified in being the most frequent ladder climber of the crew.

            Gift tip:  I have a friend who loves Idaho Spud candy bars, so I sewed a little burlap looking bag and filled them with the candy bars to resemble a little gunny sack of potatoes and used alphabet stickers for the words. 

            Another gift tip:  Cali cleaned the fridge out for me one day this week as a surprise.  She wrote little notes on the tops of some of the containers like they were talking to me, like, “If you don’t use me today, you must throw me out.”  Or, “looks like we didn’t make the cut” to a pile of containers on the cupboard (by the way…this year I made freezer jam [from wonderful strawberries that Melanie gave me] with Wal-Mart-splenda-spinoff and it MOLDS after being in the fridge for a week or so.  Whoever heard of molding freezer jam?)  The great fridge clean-out was such a wonderful gift to me—the notes made me laugh and the fridge sparkles—no more dried milk flakes.

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Please send your comments to jp@neighborjanepayne.com  Thanks!  They are always appreciated.

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