Category Archives: attitude & action

How To Cook Husbands

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How To Cook Husbands

I went to the library this afternoon to do some recipe and local history research. There were interesting cookbooks introduced in the 1800’s and 1900’s. I perused a more modern book, Pot Roast, Politics, and Ants in the Pantry: Missouri’s Cookbook Heritage written in 2008 by Carol and John C. Fisher. Sizzle, sizzle. Some hot stuff. One section of this book was labeled “How To Cook Husbands”. I cannot lie about this. It is a humorous prose piece written originally in two cookbooks called The Iron County Centennial Cook Book and Pure Food Cook Book. After the type of conversation I had with my husband this morning, while reading this prose I couldn’t help to think other women must have been married to my husband in another life or someone very much like him. Yes, I wanted to cook my husband this morning. No, I have not gone nuts. Just frustrated with my man of little words, except to insult my efforts in communicating with him. I love him. Please pray for us. Communication is our challenge. As I roast him, I must mention my Dean has wonderful qualities, too.

Rather than crying, this made me laugh. Please laugh with me as I share a few lines of this prose ….

"A good many husbands are entirely spoiled by mismanagement in cooking and so are not tender and good. Some women go about it as if their husbands were bladders and blow them up. Others keep them constantly in hot water. Others let them freeze by their carelessness and indifference.  Some keep them in pickles all their lives.  It cannot be supposed that any husband will be tender and good managed in this way, but they are really delicious when properly treated ..."

What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

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What The Heart Knows As The Summer Blooms

Summer can bring a frenzy of activity like the hummingbirds with their multiple flights to the sugar-water feeders. Dean is filling those feeders with his homemade recipe every 7 – 8 days. The finches and sparrows are the same with the suet blocks we put out. Fattening up, those birds of song. Summer blooms and songs all around. I read about blackberries, bees, and honey. I sit, observing from our cottage’s windows, taking it all in this week while recovering from COVID. This morning, I am feeling well enough to walk outside in the midst of the sights and sounds. Sunday’s sermon will be given courtesy of Mother’s Nature. The biscuit & gravy chef made a plate for me this morning. My last day of quarantine will be a beautiful one. How blessed I am.

While the rains water and the sun warm the earth, this is what the heart knows as the summer blooms: it is good to sit awhile to reflect and pray. I pray for my children and grandchildren. My disabled daughter who lost their house in a fire 1-1/2 years ago is living in a huge travel trailer on her husband’s family farm. Not quite the 3-bedroom house they were accustomed to. A final insurance settlement is almost completed. “Please God not another day of delay for them and give them wisdom on the best ways to spend these provisions.” My other daughter who fought and beat breast cancer in her early 30’s still struggles with brain fog after treatments. “Please God, clear her thoughts to see the next steps to take and the fortitude to walk those steps.” My son, who struggles with mental health challenges, like so many of us do. “Please God bring clarity and assurance of Your love for him. and each of us”

Take a walk in your neighborhood gardens and snap some green beans with your grandma today. I guarantee you will feel better.

Sweet Berry Kisses

Off to the blueberry bushes and blackberry brambles I am sent,

into the strawberry patch squishing overripe berries between my toes.

A painter’s palette smeared like rouge onto my cheeks

and all phalanges match my berry-stained face, lips, and tongue.

These delicious delectables satisfy my tummy’s rumbles

while the morning’s sun seals the sweet berry kisses to my lips.

Picking berries, berries, and more berries is my morning chore,

so, most make their way into Auntie’s heavy handled shiny bucket.

Pies, crisps, cobblers, buckles, and biscuits smothered with berry jams,

these Auntie anticipations as she twiddles her thumbs awaiting.

Down the garden path Auntie comes with a rabbit behind and bees a buzzing,

to lend a hand at picking plump berries into her long-handled metal pan.

Before noon into her kitchen baking oozing, finger-licking berry hand pies;

Oh, these juicy jewels create the sweetest berry kisses to my lips.

Anna Gall

May 4, 2024

Summer Weekend Rest

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Summer Weekend Rest

We are blessed to have all our children, grandchildren, and one surviving parent living in our home state, Missouri. Travel for visits with them are frequent. We had my sister in town for a week in June. The Kansas City family was in town last weekend, so some local outings were ensued and enjoyed. We spent a Sunday afternoon in Farmington to take my youngest grandson, Eli and his buddy out for lunch. We met our newest granddog, Tillie, a stray puppy with the most gorgeous blue eyes that wandered onto the farm. This week was my granddaughter, Libby’s 20th birthday, Dean and I’s14th wedding anniversary, and the 4th of July, and we chose to stay in our hometown except for yesterday. We ventured out to our favorite neighboring river towns of Hermann and Washington, MO. The recent summer rains and storms have the Missouri River up and over the banks in some places. Tributary creeks are swelling into the fields and yards as well. Some holiday activities were cancelled because of the flooding, but less fires started with fireworks. Cabooses and train stations became our entertainment.

These weekends while Dean and I are at home, we are able to get some chores done. Dean’s parent’s home sold last month, so no more emptying cabinets, drawers, purging, and throwing away. Now we sort through the treasured items Dean brought home as mementos of his childhood and heritage. He built a shelf in the basement to organize these items. The Japanese stemware his father brought home while serving in the Army will be placed in our China hutch. We added a handsome wood bench to our living room. A worktable for planting and building projects sets under the carport as well as an old tool cabinet.

Yes, somewhere in between chores, rest and relaxation have been included in our weekends. With summer travels at a minimal, it is possible. For myself, writing is relaxing. Just about every weekday afternoon after cooking for the local seniors, I get a short nap, then write until dinner needs to get started. Some evenings and weekends include writing as well. My first book, a memoir of recipes, short stories, and poems has been my primary focus these past few months. I am just about finished with it after three years of plugging away. I promise myself, one last recipe, one last short story, and then the photos. Writing can be an addiction. Dean is my first reader, then I will ask a couple of others before going to a professional editor. The publisher and the printer are to follow. I will let you know when my first book is available.

Before The Summer Solstice

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Before The Summer Solstice

The travels this late spring have been beautiful. We took several trips back to the Kansas City side of the state to get Dean’s parent’s house emptied before putting the house on the real estate market. The sunrises on Lake Wood as well as the sunsets were magnificent while on the road. The barns’ silhouettes and contrasting green landscapes vivid. Walks in our hometown of St. Charles and also while in the state of Tennessee for a partial week gave Dean and I admiring glimpses of gardens and art. A creative world we live in, cause to ponder a bit between the busy activities. Author Julie Cameron calls these types of walks “artist dates”. According to her, we should take these once a week for at least an hour or two. What sort of artist dates do you take?

May flew by, and June is proving similar. Cleaning and yard projects at the cottage as well as at Dean’s parents’ home took all of May. In June a sales contract written with a closing date before the end of the month, attending the Clarksville Writers’ Conference in Tennessee where I made a handmade book, an afternoon of Nashville music at the Ryman, the airshow at Spirit of St. Louis Airport with some excitable grandsons, the engagement party of my oldest granddaughter Hannah and her fiancé Jay, a week with my sister and visiting other family members and friends while she is in town, all this before the summer solstice. Wonder what the summer season will bring? I know a few more projects, but maybe some rest, relaxation, and healing for my body while we stay home for a few weeks. Home. I love the sound of that word.

On top of the busy activities, I have had medical appointments, tests, and now physical therapy. My world has literally been spinning since April. I woke up the morning of April 30 with a case of vertigo. Dizziness, nausea, migraines, and confusion comes and goes since then. Last week’s MRI shows a benign cyst on my right maxillary sinus, probably what caused those sinus infections from February through April, and the migraines since May. Vestibular physical therapy started yesterday. No fun, but hopeful this PT will help. Waiting to hear from the doctor about treatment for the sinus cyst. Hanging my worries out to dry. Please come Lord Jesus and take care of all of them.

Weather Be Nice!

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Weather Be Nice!

Memorial Day weekend golf ball-size hail dropped from the dark thunder clouds above causing some major damage. We were on the other side of the state emptying Dean’s parent’s house getting it ready to be put on the market. Kansas City had some strong winds and damage, too. At home green leaves were knocked down by the hail and they were scattered all over the lawn and rooftops. It looked like autumn except the leaves were green instead of red, orange, and yellow. Our elephant ear plant looks like a palm tree now with its split leaves. My potted annuals lost a lot of blooms and leaves. One of our kitchen windows has a crack in it. One of the bird feeder domes was fractured and had a big hole in it. I am sure a few critters were knocked unconscious if not killed from those ice balls. That kind of hail could kill a person if hit in the head hard enough. Fortunately, we put our vehicle under the carport. But many auto dealer lots are having hail damage sales with their inventory. More weather is coming tonight and hope that it is not severe. Ready to take shelter. Weather, be nice to our plant life and critters, please!

“All I really need is a song in my heart, food in my belly, and love in my family.” ~ Raffi

Summertime pleasures such as a cup of cherry tea, a bowl of delectable dark cherries, Peter Rabbit brick garden art, an ice cream cone, and a new friend to get to know are wonderful distractions from the storms and the dumpster full of 50-years’ worth of papers, rusty tools, and broken furniture pieces. It took several weekends before this Memorial Day weekend as well as 10 adults working for the 3-day weekend to empty most of the home’s contents. I promise my children and grandchildren I will not leave this much “stuff” behind when I leave this world. Repurpose, throw away, and/or giveaway the excess now. The family gathering did give us an opportunity to look at old photos and reminisce. This summer I hope to finish my memoir, a collection of poems, short stories, and recipes that tell my life’s story. I cannot believe I have almost 100 recipes, most my own culinary creations that have been favorites amongst my family, friends, and students over the years.

What will you leave behind? What do you want to be remembered for?

The Herbs, Flowers, and Birds Amongst Us

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The Herbs, Flowers, and Birds Amongst Us

This past weekend Dean and I brought out our perennials from their winter shelter and into the wilds of Missouri springtime. The air has been warm, but the wind brutal these past few days. The young sprouts on our 6-year-old lantana plant were wind whipped, so I trimmed that back hoping it comes to bloom beautifully like it does each year. My herbs from last year did not make it through the winter in their basement home. Therefore, we made a trip to purchase fresh herb plants from the neighborhood greenhouse. Tai and Genovese basils, lemon thyme, broad leaf and pineapple sages, oregano, chives, and mojito mint now grace the porch pots this growing season.

“If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.” ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

The pineapple sage has a vivid red bloom, is a salvia family member. The flowers attract hummingbirds, butterflies, and bees. More will be purchased to add to the huge backyard planter with the Mexican sage plant. I trust last year’s Mexican sage plant wintered okay. I love being good to the earth and attracting the pollinators. The pineapple sage leaves can be eaten in salads, chopped and added to make flavorful bread, and muddled into a delightful summertime tea sweetened with golden honey. Cannot wait.

“Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine to the mind.” ~ Luther Burbank

Yesterday I saw our first hummingbird on our dogwood bush. We have two sugar water-filled feeders hanging now to keep these tiny, feathered wonders well fed. They entertain us, so let the territorial dances begin. The three backyard birdhouses are homes to wrens and Eurasian tree sparrows. Nesting twigs and leaves peek out of the entry holes like the little birdies will soon. Eggs have been laid and one fledging has been spotted already. Our backyard flowers are growing wildly in the sunlight and rains. Several varieties of irises, peonies, columbines, and tiny wildflowers add color to the gardens. Today’s blooms are tomorrow’s teas, tinctures, vignettes, filled vessels, and creative arts n’ crafts of natural beauty. The herbs, flowers, and birds amongst us have my full attention.

“Flowers don’t tell, they show.” ~ Stephanie Skeem

When The Heart Aches

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When The Heart Aches

“I’m fixin’ to get into some trouble. You comin’?” the meme says. When the heart aches, sometimes there is the temptation to escape it all and bring company along with. Get into some kind of trouble while having fun. Anything is better than this pain. Truly, my heart is aching, but I am not aiming to get into trouble. I love my Lord and Savior Jesus too much to go that route. Ready to have happy times again. It had been 4 weeks since Dean and I’s mental and body rejuvenating vacation to the southeast coast. A baby shower for a beloved niece brought some joy, and for Dean guy time at the shooting range with his brothers, sons, and father this past weekend. My heart still aches for the loved ones whose mental illness leads them astray. My heart aches to witness painful steps, one after the other of a faithful mother. My heart aches to see poverty rob a person from becoming all they can. Do you see and feel that kind of heart ache, too?

Then there is loneliness sometimes even in the midst of all the family and work obligations. I have done this thing called family life for so many years. Not always a good wife, mother, daughter. But tried to make family my priority. To be honest, family and friends fall short like I do. We are human, and all need Jesus. Go down memory lane, I realize decisions I would have made differently as a young adult, wife, mother, grandmother, adult child, employee, and neighbor. “You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending,” wrote C.S. Lewis.

Jesus, heal my aching heart. Comfort those who my heart aches for. Bring them through another day. Let them know Your love. God, show me what You want me to spend time on today, in this winter season of my life. I may be getting older, but I am still willing to do Your will. Good works do not replace home life. Family and friends do not replace Jesus. Jesus. We need You.

The recently deceased country singer Toby Keith presented this song before his passing. Words so eloquent…

Don’t let the old man in
I wanna leave this alone
Can’t leave it up to him
He’s knocking on my door

And I knew all of my life
That someday it would end
Get up and go outside
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

Try to love on your wife
And stay close to your friends
Toast each sundown with wine
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

When he rides up on his horse
And you feel that cold bitter wind
Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

March Welcomes Spring

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March Welcomes Spring

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.” ~ Charles Dickens

Our road trip to the Southeast couldn’t come fast enough. It has been a very long, cold winter. I had been sick from my severe allergy to the cold, sinusitis, and bronchitis for almost 7 weeks, the longest time period that I ever remember even when I was a child. Winter wouldn’t stay behind as we crossed the Appalachians with sleety stuff hitting the windshield. A few short hours, we finally greeted Spring at the South Carolina coast. Along the way we saw fields of various shades of green and clumps of those yellow daffodils and jonquils, the tell-tell sign of the seasons changing.

There is something about when the daffodils bloom. Spring comes and goes with the wind but finally stays awhile. Welcomed sounds and sights all around. The lace curtains flutter with the open window and whistling spring air. Chirping, preening, and nesting birds. Bird eggs laid and baby chicks hatched. The rabbits nibbling on the wild violets and pansies. Clusters of colorful tulips are showy in vases and planters. It seems the whole world celebrates Spring. A renewal of spirit, health, and life. My good health has returned with the new season.

“A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings. because it has a song.” ~ Maya Angelou

So different are the birds. The coastal ibis, terns, gulls, and herons are shaped to skim the waters for their food. The songbirds are created to sing their songs, maybe attract a mate. Birds of prey are equipped with talons and large, sharp beaks. Their eyes can see yards ahead and the perimeter of their surroundings. God didn’t spare any detail when He created each species. As the birds, the uniqueness of each flower is evident. Beautiful colors and shapes, blooming at different times and environments within the growing season. Some flowers can be dried and preserved, but there is a specialness of the fresh bloom.

Walking the beaches and pathways I am reminded how unique each species God has created. And each has its place in this world. Author Marianne Williamson captured this, “A tulip doesn’t strive to impress anyone. It doesn’t struggle to be different than a rose. It doesn’t have to. It is different. And there’s room in the garden for every flower.”  While visiting area museums, my husband and I learned much about the history and culture of the South, the Gullah people, slavery, the Civil War, and the Native Americans. Their tenacity, resilience, and adaptations speak even today. While in our own uniqueness, there is room in the garden for each of us.

“Be yourself. Everybody else is taken.” ~ Oscar Wilde

In All The Details

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In All The Details

We have been staying indoors the majority of these winter days. It has been either bitter cold or a damp cold most days. Dean and I both have been under the weather. Dean fought bronchitis and strep throat. I have had a month of a sinus infection and hoarseness of my voice, on 2 rounds of antibiotics with a steroid added this week to take care of the inflammation and excessive drainage. This is my body’s allergic reaction to the subzero and single-digit temperatures even if out in it for 2 minutes to get to my preheated car. Yes, Dean warms my car every weekday morning, before I drive for 8 minutes to senior center so I can prepare lunch for the area seniors and disabled. The groundhog didn’t see his shadow, so he promises an early Spring. I surely hope Phil is right; otherwise, this leap year February will be an extra-long month for multi reasons. This morning, I write from the inside my in-law’s lakeside home in Lee’s Summit, Missouri. The lingering rain clouds cast a mist on the bare landscape. No sunrise to view other than the black becoming various shades of gray with a tinge of blue. The Canadian geese “honk-honk” greetings have not happened yet this morning. 

Dean’s family packs and purges items from this 50-year residence. We will empty its contents in hopes in sell the lakeside house by summer. After dividing up the heirloom pieces, maybe an estate sale before it is all said and done. Already have a willing buyer approach us yesterday. This house is one big dossier, collections of papers, documents, and photos. The stories we could tell from these piles of overseas love letters written while our father served, bank statements, grocery lists, receipts, advertisements, books, keys, keys, and more keys. They kept everything! We sort through to decide what is pertinent and what is junk. The photos are priceless, but so many! Many have years marked on them, and some without names. In all the details, we hope that the important matters like faith, love, and people were indeed their focus, and for the generations they leave behind also be our focus today. 

This month of February is the month for love. Not just romantic love, but God’s love for humankind. How can we share the love God freely gave us with the person we meet today? I pray a shower of God’s love comes down on you this month, one that warms your heart. Dean and I will end this month on the warmer southeastern coastline for a much-needed reprieve. Until then, keep sharing God’s creative love. I will be, too.

“In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold.”  ~ Ben Aaronovitch

December Again

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December Again

In the busyness of the holiday season, it is good to quiet oneself for a few minutes. Stop, sit awhile with no television, electronic devices, or music playing. Breathe in deeply, listen to your heartbeat, exhale slowly. Stillness, bareness, nullity, humbleness. Oh, but I hear a mourning dove tweet outside the window while near the feeders. Excited for seeds found and water flowing from the heated fountain. A blessing to hear the bird. In my previous hustle and bustle, I missed hearing my feathered friends outside my front window. Back to deep breathing and exhaling slowly. I hear the quiet, still voice of our God. The Spirit of God surrounds me, dwells in me. Slowing down is good, even for a few minutes. All is calm and bright. The winter solstice is welcome to come again.

“Each year is a parable begun in stillness, and chill, of bare ground warmed with spring life returning, then bursting, buzzing, peaking in summer, and issuing a final flare in autumn, to subside in another winter’s seeming nullity.”

~ Stephanie Mills, Epicurean Simplicity

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.
‘We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,’
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.

~ Oliver Herford~