Category Archives: Whimsies

Dancing Days

Posted in Whimsies by

Yesterday I spent the day in joyful play. So much play, in fact, that I didn’t have time to write a blog. Not only were Heather and Micah visiting from Vermont, but two women with whom I have been friends since second grade were in town as well. We had one joyful gathering that culminated with Allen and Emma joining us for dinner, at which I successfully used Uber Eats for the first time. I think I’m in love.

And Emma’s homemade ice cream was for dessert:

Clockwise: Pineapple, Coffee, Cardamom Pistachio Rose, and Orange Blossom. All homemade.

Papa and Micah shared a joke.

There was time for a swim.

I leave you with this….

 

Would You Like Some Bread?

Posted in Whimsies by

My father was a wonderful baker. Have I mentioned that? His doughnuts were so light that you would think they might float away. His Danish rolls were sweet and delicious. He made outstanding cakes and pies. But what people came from far and wide to purchase was his bread. He made different kinds of bread – rye, wheat, cottage, and French. But his best-selling (and frankly, best tasting) bread was his plain white bread.

Every night except Saturdays (because the bakery was closed on Sundays) he would drive down to the bakery to “set sponge.” That meant he would mix the flour and the yeast and the salt and whatever else, mix it in the giant mixer, then dump the sponge dough into a big trough where it would rise over night. The next day, it was ready to shape, proof again, and then bake. It sold for 29 cents a loaf. Imagine that.

I think about my dad’s bread a lot, mostly because I simply haven’t been successful yet with my bread baking. And it came to mind again Sunday because the gospel this weekend was the first of a few weeks of St. John’s so-called Bread of Life discourse.  The interpretation of this part of St. John’s gospel is one of the biggest differences between Catholics and Protestants. Catholics believe that when Jesus said this is my body and this is my blood, he was speaking literally, while Protestants believe he was speaking metaphorically. I’m not going to attempt to change anyone’s minds, although I will tell you that these upcoming gospel readings are some of my favorite. After all, that’s what the Catholic Mass is all about – the Eucharist.

St. John starts off the discourse with the story of the loaves and the fishes. In John’s version, it is Jesus who hands people their bread and fish, enough to feed them all with plenty left over. And when he saw that the crowd was so awe-struck with his miracle that they would immediately try to make him king, he went scurrying. He didn’t want to be their king. He wanted to offer them the bread of life.

Here’s the thing I have to continually remind myself when I pray: God wants me to ask him for what I want, but he also wants me to be open to what he wants for me and what he knows I need. He also wants me to be open to what he needs from me. It’s easy for me to kneel down (now that’s a lie; I’m afraid I rarely kneel to pray) and ask him to heal a loved one or return my child to the faith or keep my family safe when they travel. But I’m afraid to open myself up to listening to what he wants me to do because it may be something that’s difficult or unpleasant.

When I was a little girl, the nuns at my elementary school always told us to listen for God’s call to the religious life, that is, being a priest or nun. I clearly remember going to bed at night and being terrified that I would hear God calling me to be a nun. I needn’t have worried because I’m not cut out for the sisterhood and he, of course, full-out knew that. Still, it demonstrates that my unwillingness to listen to what God wants from me started a long time ago.

As I ponder this reality, it occurs to me that God doesn’t actually need a single thing from me. He’s perfect. But he asks things of me to make me a better person and to make my life and the lives of those around me better.

As always, it just comes down to opening myself up enough to listen to him speak to me.

Saturday Smile: Newborn’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Er, McLains

Posted in Whimsies by

This week, a couple of my McLain grandkids made me laugh.

First, here is a photo of Maggie Faith when she visited the wax museum in Hollywood….

It’s an uncanny resemblance, isn’t it? What a ham!

As you might know, the McLains have a blog in which they document their travels this summer. They all take turns writing the daily post. I love them all, but I will admit to awaiting most eagerly those written by 13-year-old Alastair, who simply has a funny, unique way of looking at life. He writes with his tongue firmly in his cheek. In yesterday’s post he talked about being back in Denver for a family reunion. They were visited by their former nanny who now is a mother in her own right, and she brought the newborn for them to meet. Here is what he said:

Our old nanny and family friend came over with her newborn. The girls snuggled with the baby and fed it its bottle while I just held its foot. Then I went to the orthodontist.

Warm and fuzzy, isn’t it? You can tell meeting “it” was meaningful to him. And so was the orthodontist.

I love that boy and girl.

As an aside, I met them for a quick lunch on Thursday. Out of the four children, three of them ran to greet me by the door. One stayed at the table. Guess who? He didn’t even want to hold my foot.

Have a great weekend.

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

Ding Dong
Yesterday afternoon, our doorbell rang. Who should be standing there but Maggie Faith? Wait, what? I thought you were driving around the west coast in an RV. Actually, I knew they were coming home for a family reunion on Jll’s side, but I didn’t actually think I would see them much — if at all — with their busy plans. It so happened that Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole were visiting, and had their hands up to their elbows in — what else? — slime. It was a very fun reunion of our own, and it was a joy to hear about the McLains on the Road from Maggie’s perspective.

BZZZZZ
I asked Maggie what her sibs were doing. All going different directions, eager to catch up in the short time they have. How about Dagny, I asked Mags. Busy caring for her bees, Maggie responded. Of course. This is year number two for the bees, and they are apparently finally becoming productive. Dave posted this photo on Facebook…..

I hope to see honey in my future!

It’s All Happenin’ at the Zoo
Court’s out of town, and I figured Alyx could use a break. So I took the three Zierks to the zoo with me yesterday. I’m not sure we made it last year, and I was determined to have a go at it this year. There were lots of new babies — a little orangutan, a baby gorilla, a tiny (relatively speaking) giraffe — all so cute. There was purportedly a baby sloth, but the sloths live in the elephant exhibit, and there was a show going on. We weren’t up for fighting crowds. And it was, after all, just a sloth…..

Creamy Goodness
We had dropped off our rental wagon and were heading towards the exit for the zoo when Kaiya spotted a sign: Dole Whips. The Zierks love them some Dole Whips, and I had never tried them. Why not, I thought. Well, needless to say, they were just darnright delicious. Kaiya claimed they were just as good as the ones in Disneyland. And we don’t have to go so far to get it, she said…..

Ciao!

It’s a Berry Nice Time of the Year

Posted in Whimsies by

Aside from photos of my grandkids and my husband Bill, I’ll bet the photo most often featured on Nana’s Whimsies is that of some sort of pie. In fact, as I looked back to see just how often I posted a picture of a pie, I realized that my very first post of Nana’s Whimsies offered a photo of a peach pie and my mother’s recipe for that pie…..

The reason I post so many pictures of pies is two-fold: 1) Pie is probably my favorite dessert. I will be more specific: peach pie is probably my favorite dessert, especially if it’s made from Colorado’s Palisade peaches — the best in the world. (Take that, Georgia!) 2. This is going to sound like hyperbole, but I think that there is almost nothing prettier — at least from a cook’s perspective — than a homemade pie. The operative word is homemade. Don’t even offer me a piece of pie from a store or a restaurant — you know, those things with the perfect edges on the crust. No, thank you.

By the way, while Bill will not turn up his nose at a piece of homemade pie, especially if it’s blueberry, given the choice between a piece of pie and a piece of chocolate cake, the chocolate cake would win every single time. Even if the pie was chocolate. That’s how he rolls. Cake v. pie — cake wins.

All this is to say that I was very happy Sunday when I was doing a bit of grocery shopping to see that apparently berries must be in season. I say this because King Soopers was offering big containers of fresh blueberries for $2.99. Enough blueberries for a pie! Yay!

So yesterday morning, I arose at the crack of dawn and made a pie crust even before I had my first cup of coffee. That says something. If you don’t believe me, ask Bill. I am just this side of shy of being able to function without coffee. Still, there I was, preparing my pie crust. And I have to confess that it is actually my sister Bec’s recipe, which she cajoled out of her crabby grandmother-in-law many years ago. It’s a good one and it was hard-earned. Click here if you are interested in the recipe. That post will also show you how to freeze an unbaked pie.

Anyhoo, once I had a couple of cups of joe in me, I headed off to the store to purchase one of those big containers of blueberries so that I could make a pie to offer to guests we were feeding yesterday evening. I used my own version of Ina Garten’s blueberry pie recipe. I changed it up a bit, if for no other reason than that she annoys the heck out of me, what with her make sure you use good olive oil and good European butter and good red wine vinegar and whatnot. You’re not the boss of me. But her recipe calls for Cassis liqueur, which makes the pie utterly delicious. I added a quarter of a cup more sugar than she suggests just because she annoys me so much. That’ll show her.

The pie was delicious. Prepare yourself for yet another photo of a beautiful, homemade pie…..

Doesn’t it make you just want to cry for joy?

I love when the berries are on sale. Strawberries have been quite affordable too. That was why a friend of mine posted this photo on Facebook, saying it was she and her husband’s dinner…..

And just to show you that blueberries are yummy in something other than pie, I present a blueberry breakfast cake…..

This is a wonderful time of year. The Olathe sweet corn and Palisade peaches are also showing up in the grocery stores. We can look forward to delicious sweet corn and peaches for a couple of months.

I leave you with a photo — not of a pie — but of my two Vermont grands picking berries for their own pie…..

 

 

Whiskey’d Up

Posted in Whimsies by

Before my father owned Gloor’s Bakery, his father and mother were the proprietors. The bakery which my father later purchased from Grandpa was in the downtown area. A history of Platte County, Nebraska which I located on the internet refers to Grandpa moving from the original site to “his modern establishment” in the early 1940s. That phrase made me laugh, because while a lot of his machinery might have been state-of-the-art for the time, the building itself was quite old. I don’t exactly know how old, and I’m still seeing this through the eyes of a child, but it seemed very old to me.

The basement, in particular, was indicative of the building’s age. It was flat-out scary. In the over 18 years during which I probably went into that building nearly every day, I never went into the basement. Never. Not once. My sister Bec did, and so did my brother Dave. I’m told it had a dirt floor, a single light bulb with a pull string, and lots of ghosts.

Oh, and Grandpa’s wine barrels.

Because each fall Grandpa would gather grapes from vines growing outside of Columbus, and make wine. I, of course, never tasted the wine. According to my father, sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad.

That’s as close as I’ve come to anyone making their own alcoholic beverages. But now I have a friend in the distillery business.

We only recently learned that the son-in-law of friends of ours is a distiller. His business is located in south-central Denver, and is called Bear Creek Distillery. The name comes from the fact that the owners all went to Bear Creek High School together. Though they went separate ways following graduation, they have all come back together to form this exceptional distillery.

You might remember that about a year ago, I embarked on a campaign to develop a taste for whiskey. While I don’t always meet my goals, I did quite well in this case. I have come to learn to like most whiskeys. Bourbon and Scotch, well, not quite as much as rye, Canadian, and Irish. But that is neither here nor there. My interest in whiskey led us to a night at Bear Creek Distillery…..

Denice and Randy Shook with their son-in-law Jeff Dickinson, one of the proprietors of Bear Creek Distillery.

The first thing I noticed when we walked in the door was the smell — the fragrant smell of what I guess was roasted wheat and rye. Whereas I have always personally found the smell of beer being brewed rather unpleasant, this smell reminded me of walking into the bakery when my dad was baking bread.

Jeff Dickinson – our friends’ son-in-law – met us and immediately offered us a taste of his wares. Bill had an Old-Fashioned made with their straight bourbon whiskey, and I offered one up for the team: straight rye with one ice cube. Bill was already smacking his lips with delight as I took my first taste. It was fragrant and had almost a spicy taste. And smooth. Like buttah.

Jeff gave us a quick tour of the facilities, which are, frankly, beautiful. I don’t know if that’s a fair description, but the copper kettles are shiny and gorgeous. Jeff told us they were built in and imported from Germany.

The barrels which store the distilled beverages, allowing them to age, line the walls and fill up the rest of the room…..

I keep saying whiskey, but Bear Creek Distillery also makes small-batch rum, spiced rum, rye vodka and wheat vodka. They have won numerous awards in national and international competitions, something that came as no surprise to me.

According to their brochure…..

Bear Creek Distillery is an American craft distillery located in the heart of Denver and is the brainchild of a small group of friends focused on producing exceptional hand crafted premium spirits. Each spirit is produced grain to bottle, in our Denver facility. Whenever possible, we use local ingredients and materials sourced from Colorado companies.

I reckon that is all true. Here’s what I can tell you. It tastes good. Good enough that Bill bought a bottle of bourbon to bring home. He pushed aside his Jack Daniels to make room…..

While Bear Creek Distillery offers a comfortable and welcoming bar, you can also purchase their small-batch bourbons, rums, ryes, etc. at many local liquor stores. We spotted Bear Creek Straight Bourbon at Denver’s newest liquor store — Total Wine and Liquors.

Now if I could just get them to make me some gin!

When Was the Last Time?

Posted in Whimsies by

Last New Year’s Eve, my 7-year-old great nephew Austin went to his first rock concert. He, along with his dad and mom, saw a rock band called 311. I confess I had never heard of the group prior to learning that this 7-year-old was going to be up a heck of a lot later than I on New Year’s Eve 2017 at a rock concert. I still don’t know much about the group. What I do know, however, is that I didn’t see my first rock concert until I was considerably older than Austin.

The group I saw was the Doobie Brothers. I was 18 years old, and had just started college. I remember exactly two things about that concert: 1) The Doobie Brothers opened up the show with an AWESOME rendition of China Grove; and 2) there was so much marijuana smoke in the air that it was almost impossible to not get high, even when you were an innocent college freshman.

Since then, I have been to a handful of live concerts in my life (not to include symphony orchestra performances). I remember seeing  Dan Fogleberg at Red Rocks. I saw Jesse Collin Young and Firefall. A few others. It’s safe to say, however, that I haven’t been to a live concert for 20 years or more.

But since this is the summer in which my motto is “When was the last time you did something for the first time?” it isn’t surprising that Bill and I agreed to accompany my sister Jen to a live concert. And who better with whom to break my 20-some-year concert fast but Keith Urban!

We’ve had our plans in place since this past February, when Jen Face Timed me while I was grocery shopping. Hey Kris! I just found out that Keith Urban is going to be at Fiddler’s Green on July 14. Do you and Bill want to go with me?

Without even consulting Bill, I gave her a resounding YES and she was immediately on the prowl for tickets. I didn’t have to wonder if Bill would be game for a couple of reasons: 1) Bill, too, is a fan of country music in general and Keith Urban in particular; and 2) Bill is game for just about anything.

I must shamefully admit something. While I, of course, have long been familiar with Keith Urban’s name, I didn’t really become familiar with his personality and his music until he became a judge on American Idol. Give me credit. I just admitted to two embarrassing things in one sentence: an unfamiliarity with a very well-known musician and the fact that I watch American Idol.

In the past three or four years, I have gotten extremely fond of country music, particularly the more contemporary stuff that doesn’t sound a lot different than other contemporary music, but generally with lyrics that I am willing to let my grandkids hear. Keith Urban quickly became one of my favorites because his music is mostly upbeat and I love, love, love to hear him play guitar. All of that provided great hope that it would be a wonderful concert, which it indeed was.

Fiddler’s Green is an outdoor amphitheater that is only a short distance from our Denver house. Even a concert neophyte like I know that outdoor concerts are the best, at least as long as the weather cooperates. And the weather was perfect – a cool night, just breezy enough to blow Keith Urban’s hair perfectly. We got there early because we’re senior citizens and that’s what senior citizens do……

But there were lots of other people there ahead of us.

Speaking of senior citizens, we were well represented at the concert, but there was a great mix of folks, ranging from families to young adults to, well, us.

Before the concert started, Jen and I decided we needed to enjoy an adult beverage. We made our way to one of the many outdoor venues selling a variety of beverages. We selected one with the shortest line. It happened to be a margarita booth, with — randomly, we thought — beverages that all contained bananas. While we were somewhat distrustful about a margarita with banana, we were pleasantly surprised.

As we waited in line, we began talking to the young man who was ahead of us. He was probably in his early 20s, and was clearly waiting in line for what would NOT be his first drink of the night. He couldn’t have been nicer to us. When someone tried to cut in line, he quickly scolded them, saying not to get in front of his two aunts. When we finally got to the front of the line, he bought us our drinks, which was a pricy undertaking. But it became a win-win when we learned that he was looking for a job as a financial advisor, which happens to be Jen’s line of work. She gave him her work number, and while we both wondered whether he would even remember the conversation, he in fact called her early the following week.

As with most live concerts, the audience was on its feet for the entire concert. Kelsea Ballerini opened up and sang for an hour before Keith Urban made his appearance at 8:30. It was 11 o’clock when we left. I think we were his favorite audience. In fact, I’m sure of it.

This is what Austin looked like at the end of his first concert…..

I think it’s safe to say that’s about how we all felt. But it was a great night.

Saturday Smile: Different Drum

Posted in Whimsies by

This past Monday, our granddaughter Mylee celebrated her 8th birthday. When I suggest that she STOP GROWING, she simply giggles her Mylee giggle. She knows, as do I, that you can’t stop your kids from growing up. So enjoy every minute.

She celebrated her birthday with friends last Saturday afternoon at a place called Boondocks……

The kids each received a party bag from Boondocks that included plastic glasses, their actual purpose escaping me. Still, Cole’s take on the glasses made me smile. He clearly travels to the beat of a different drum, and is proud of it…..

Have a great weekend.

 

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

Be True to Your School
I stopped by Target the other day and came face to face with what is one of my most unpleasant sights: back-to-school supplies. I don’t know why the thought of the kids going back to school is so bothersome to me, but I’ve hated it ever since Court was school-aged. Perhaps it’s just the suggestion that summer is nearing its end. And then I remind myself that the temperatures indicate summer will be here for a while.

Raw Fish
Alyx and the three kids and I went out for a sushi lunch the other day. I’ve never seen youngsters so taken with Japanese food. Even Kaiya — who doesn’t like sushi — enjoyed edamame, and likes to sip soy sauce with wasabi. Seriously. No fish. Just the soy sauce with wasabi. Mylee loved her seafood salad, and both she and Cole ate most of my salmon roll and my salmon nigiri…..

No Arm Wresting
The other day I had my annual physical, and got a clean bill of health (though no magical solutions for periodic bowel obstructions — drat). I got a vaccine for pneumonia and thought nothing of it until later that afternoon, when I realized the muscle in my arm was so sore I could barely lift my arm. I’ve never had that happen to me before. I’m happy to say that it was much better the next day and even better the next. And it’s undoubtedly better than getting pneumonia!

Pizza Pie
Our favorite Denver pizza place has an online site customers are supposed to use to order their food for pickup. I fight with it nearly every time I use it. Sometimes it just tells me no customer orders will be taken until the next day, which I know isn’t true. So the other night I placed an online order. When I went to pick it up, the server at the counter said (in the manner of those radio announcers who talk rapid fire to tell you there product might kill you), “Here’s your medium thin crust with sausage and no cheese.” Say what? Bill likes sausage pizza. But I could come home with pepperoni or ground beef or even ham and he would take it like a man. But no cheese? No go. I told them there was no need to start over. They could simply put cheese over the pizza and put it in the oven for a few minutes. I literally heard the cook and the server fighting when they took it out of the oven. “This will be way over cooked and they won’t like it,” he said in a stage whisper. Try me, I thought. She brought it out and tentatively opened the box. Bingo. Sold. We like our pizzas crisp.

Ciao.

Hidden Fun

Posted in Whimsies by

When Bill and I were on our Big European Vacation in 2008, we stumbled upon a circus in Honfleur, France. Knowing full well that we wouldn’t understand a word that was being said, we both agreed we wouldn’t miss that little family-owned circus in a unique French village for anything in the world. It remains one of our favorite memories of that trip.

While any traveler doesn’t want to miss the highlights of a destination, many times some of the things upon which you stumble might give you the most pleasure and the strongest memories. So while we all enjoyed the predictable things we saw during our recent visit to San Francisco — and wouldn’t miss them for the world — there were a few unexpected pleasures upon which we stumbled.

For example, as we made our way the first day from Pier 39 to our final destination of Ghiardelli Square, we noticed we were passing an interesting arcade called Musee Mercanique. The games in this arcade were all vintage. It was fun to see the kids playing with some of the old-school arcade games more familiar to their Papa Bill than to them. For a mere quarter or less, you could play with a puppet or listen to a music box. You could have your fortune read by a scary-looking porcelain head….

…or arm wrestle an even scarier-looking porcelain arm…..

We spent a good bit of time in that old arcade museum, and Papa spent plenty of quarters to watch the kids go back in time.

One day when we were all getting fairly thirsty (did I mention that we had unusually pleasant — even warm — weather, something for which we were all grateful), we stopped at a little cafe that turned out to be more than just a cafe. The Gallery Cafe instructs its customers to PUT DOWN YOUR TECHNOLOGY and talk to each other and to have some fun. There are old-school games…..

…..and many opportunities to be creative, something at which the McLain kids excel…..

While visiting Chinatown, in addition to Addie getting a SMOKIN’ deal on some earrings…..

…..we also visited some Asian markets. We saw many different fruits and vegetables with which we were unfamiliar. The proprietors spoke Chinese and the signage was also in Chinese. I was particularly struck by this beautiful fruit…..

Not having the remotest idea of what it was, I texted my daughter-in-law Alyx and asked if she knew what it was. Dragonfruit was her immediate response. Inside fruit is like a white kiwi, she added. Who knew?

Our hotel overlooked the ocean, and every night we would see men fishing from the shore. I’m not sure just what they were hoping to catch, nor did I ever find out if they were fishing for fun or were professional anglers. But they were a pretty sight as the sun would go down…..

The wind, salt water, and sea spray gave me a laugh when I saw just how relaxed our granddaughter Addie — who always takes great care to look perfect — was after a few days on the beach. Can you say Crazy Hair?….

By the way, I likely won’t ever be forgiven for posting this photo!

When we visited Muir Woods, one of the most interesting and typically-Californian things I noticed was this sign…..

And finally, that same day as we were driving home from Muir Woods — July 11 — Jll suddenly made a screeching turn into a 7-11 store parking lot. Why? She remembered that it was July 11 — 7-11 — and they were giving away free icees. What can I say? More vacation fun…..

While I’ve visited San Francisco on a number of occasions, this is one I will certainly never forget.