Thursday Thoughts

Thirty Days
October-2015-Calendar-Template-3
Hello October. I can’t believe you’re already here. One hundred percent of the time, I can’t tell you how many days a month has without reciting in my head: Thirty days has September, April, June, and November….. Well, I guess I remember that October has 31 days because Halloween is October 31. So 98 percent of the time. I laughed one day when Bill was trying to figure out how many days a particular month had, and he recited out loud: Thirty days has September, April, MAY, and November. Being ever the helpful wife, I suggested the little poem isn’t helpful unless you have it memorized correctly. He loves when I point things out like this to him. Wouldn’t you?

The Swarm
Our son Dave is in England playing rugby with some Denver team. Don’t ask, because I don’t understand it myself. Anyhoo, that leaves our daughter-in-law Jll as the single

I believe Dave is in the second row from the front and is the only one not looking at the camera!

I believe Dave is in the second row from the front and is the only one not looking at the camera!

parent of their brood of four. With the youngest being 7, it’s considerably easier than when they were small. Still, it’s a lot of work, especially as they are all involved in a variety of activities. So the other night, I invited them over for dinner. Only come if it’s actually making your life easier, I told her. I wasn’t trying to make it more complicated. They always make me laugh when the whole gang comes. I hear them coming from afar. They acknowledge me with smiles, maybe a hug or two, and immediately head out to the back yard where they quickly find entertainment. That night it was tossing a football. I had made a simple oven dish in which you put chicken pieces, potatoes, carrots, garlic, and onion on a cookie sheet, add salt and pepper, pour olive oil over the whole kit and caboodle, and bake for an hour-and-20 minutes at 375 degrees. The chicken and the bread were consumed quickly. They had to be coaxed to eat the vegetables, largely, I think, because I decided to add Brussel sprouts. A deal breaker for sure. That’s okay. More for Jll and me. Homemade milk shakes for dessert. No coaxing. A lot of slurping. And that was just Bill! It was a fun night.

Sew There
apronIn response to my post entitled Apron Strings, I got several leads on apron patterns. While Bill was in Chicago, I went and purchased some material. Yesterday Bill spent much of the day making my apron. I think it was more time consuming than he anticipated. What would make it easier, I asked him. A square apron, he informed me. The curves were a killer. But I think he did a good job all things considered. It is not quite complete since he ran out of rick rack. “Or whatever that stuff is called,” he told me. It’s called rick rack.

When You’re Alone and Life is Making You Lonely, You Can Always Go…….
While Bill was busily sewing at home, I had lunch downtown with my two besties from my old job back in the days when I got paid to write. I don’t get downtown much these days, but I enjoy the heck out of it every time I do. More and more apartment buildings have been built every time I go downtown. Will it ever stop? I guess it has to because at some point they’ll run out of space. I always think if I was a bit of a different person, I would live in lower downtown Denver where we had lunch. They have now built a King Soopers right across the street from Coors Field, and apparently a Whole Foods is scheduled to be completed next year. There are restaurants, bookstores, churches, parks….everything you need. Except grandkids living within walking distance and/or 10 minutes from you. I’ll stay where I am, thank you very much.

Ma Oui
Speaking of lunching with my friends, we ate at a place that has only been open for about three weeks, or so our server told us. It is called Bistro Provencal, and was very delicious and surprisingly affordable. (I still can’t get used to $15 hamburgers.) I had Tourte de Boeuf, which was basically a pot pie that had filet mignon and mushrooms in a creamy sauce. It was absolutely amazing. Of course, I think you could wrap puff pastry around an old shoe and it would taste good. I hope the restaurant makes it.

Ciao!

Cooking Teachers

I’m not sure I can entirely remember what life was like prior to Food Network. This fact, of course, isn’t exactly surprising since I can’t remember where I park my car at the mall. The irony I’m afraid is that I CAN remember my home telephone number from when I was a 6 years old and the words to all of the songs from the 1960s. Sigh. Way to waste those important brain cells.

I guess our parents used those funny things called cookbooks. They didn’t have anyone to teach them to cook from their little black and white television sets. Well, except for Julia Child. And I don’t know about anyone else’s mom, but my mom didn’t particularly want to learn to cook French food. I would have liked to seen the look on my dad’s face should mom have plopped sole meuniere in front of him one night.

My mom says she learned to cook from my paternal grandmother (her mother died at a very young age). I learned to cook by watching my mother. And more recently from watching Food Network and PBS cooking shows.

It used to be that Food Network consisted almost entirely of actual cooking shows. Nowadays, you can find a few cooking shows on during the day, but nighttime consists entirely of competition shows. They don’t particularly interest me. So I mostly watch during the day. Ree Drummond, Trisha Yearwood, Ina Garten, Giada De Laurentiis. Others.

If I’m to tell you the entire truth, most of the stars of the shows drive me crazy. I can’t imagine cooking showing as much cleavage as does Giada, if for no other reason than that I would undoubtedly splash my chest with hot bacon grease. I sometimes think that if Ina Garten says “How (fill in the blank) is that?” one more time, I will throw my coveted seasoned cast iron skillet through the television screen.

But I have learned things from all of these Food Network and PBS cooks that I think has made me a better cook. Here’s a few of the things I have learned…..

Ina Garten: As annoyed as I get when the Barefoot Contessa instructs us to use “really good wine” or “good vanilla” or, as in one recipe, “really good saffron” (as if you should spend even more on an ingredient that already requires you to pawn your wedding ring to buy), I have learned that she is right that the better the ingredients, the better the final result. But the way I look at it, it doesn’t mean you have to fly to Madagascar to pick up a bottle of vanilla. It means, if possible, buy real vanilla extract as opposed to vanilla flavoring.

Paula Deen: Paula’s use of butter is (and I think was meant to be) ridiculous. But she taught me not to be afraid to use butter in my recipes. It simply tastes better. I also learned the easiest way to prepare collard greens – fold them in half and pull the leaves off the stem in one fell swoop.

Giada De Laurentiis: Despite my constant annoyance with her cleavage and the fact that she won’t simply say “spaghetti” or “fettucine” the way we do, she has taught me to use the freshest ingredients possible. Recently, she made a pasta red sauce that looked delicious, and she threw the rind of a piece of Parmigiano Reggiano into the sauce to flavor it. I will definitely give that a try. Giada also uses a lot of fresh fennel, and once I gave it a try when using one of her salad recipes that included fennel and grapefruit, I was hooked. Yum.

Ree Drummond: The Pioneer Woman has given me permission to use store-bought ingredients. Though Ina Garten must turn her nose up at Ree Drummond, I love that Ree will open up a box of chicken broth or use a jar of store-bought pesto.  If she can do it, so can I! It makes me happy to see her use her cast iron skillet so often because it’s one of my favorite cooking utensils. I couldn’t live without it. I love her 16-minute meals. Next to Lidia, I probably use more of the Pioneer Woman’s recipes than any other.

Lidia Bastianich: I left Lidia until last because, well, you know. I want her to adopt me. She speaks to me. For example, the day after I burned my hand because I grabbed the handle of a pan that I had taken out of the oven a minute or so before, she told me, “Kris, make sure when you take something out of the oven, you place a towel on it to remind yourself and others that it is hot.” (Well, she might not have directed it specifically to me, but she said it on her show the next day, and I know she meant it for me.) She has taught me not to fear anchovies but to embrace them as a rich and salty seasoning that melts in your fry pan and therefore won’t scare others, who will simply wonder why your sauce is so good. I also learned to salt my food as I cook, every time I add an ingredient or move to a new step. (If you fear oversalting, place the amount of salt you want to use in a little bowl and take from that. That’s what Lidia told me.) And maybe my favorite instruction from her is, “Clean hands are your best kitchen tool.” Amen.

I’ll leave you with one of my favorite Lidia recipes…..

Pasta with Baked Cherry Tomatoes, courtesy Lidia Cooks from the Heart of Italy, Lidia Bastianich

Ingredients
3 pints cherry tomatoes, halved
½ c. plus 1 T extra-virgin olive oil
1/3 c. fine dry bread crumbs
1 t. kosher salt, plus more for the pasta pot
¼ t. pepperoncino flakes, or to taste
1 lb. spaghetti, gemelli, or penne
10 plump garlic cloves, peeled and sliced
1 T. chopped fresh Italian parsley
1 c. loosely packed fresh basil leaves, shredded
½ c. freshly grated pecorino (or half pecorino and half Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano) plus more for passing
4 oz. Ricotta or ricotta salata

Process
Arrange a rack in the center of the oven, and heat to 350 degrees.

Toss the cherry tomato halves in a large bowl with 3 T. olive oil. Sprinkle over tomatoes the bread crumbs, salt, and pepperoncino; toss well to coat the tomatoes evenly. Pour the tomatoes onto a parchment-lined sheet, and spread them apart in a single layer. Bake until the tomatoes are shriveled and lightly caramelized (but not dried out), about 25 minutes in all.

Meanwhile, fill a large pot with salted water, and heat to a rolling boil. When the tomatoes are nearly done, drop the pasta into the pot, stir, and return the water to a boil.

As soon as the pasta is cooking, pour the remaining olive oil into a big skillet, set it over medium-high heat, and scatter in the sliced garlic. Cook for a minute or two, until it is sizzling and lightly colored, then ladle in about 2 c. of the pasta cooking water, and bring to a vigorous boil, stirring up the garlic. Let half the water evaporate, then lower the heat, stir in the chopped parsley, and keep the sauce barely simmering.

As soon as the tomatoes are done, remove them from the oven.

When the pasta is al dente, lift it from the water, drain for a moment, and drop it into the skillet, still over low heat. Toss pasta quickly with the garlic-and-parsley sauce in the pan, then slide the baked tomatoes on top of the pasta. Scatter the basil shreds all over, and toss everything together well, until the pasta is evenly dressed and the tomatoes are distributed throughout. Turn off the heat, sprinkle on the grated cheese, and toss once more.

Serve immediately.

pasta with baked tomatoes

Nana’s Notes: I cut the recipe in half by simply halving the ingredients. I used fresh tomatoes out of my garden, which I’m madly harvesting. The only cheese I used was Parmigiano. The meal was delicious. Thanks again Lidia.

Falling for Fall in the Mountains

Sisters

Sisters

My sister Jen says it’s one of her favorite sounds in the world. I must admit, it’s right up there – somewhere between a really good choir singing Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus and the sounds of my grandkids’ voices.

What am I talking about? The sound of elk bugling in Rocky Mountain National Park in the fall.

That’s why Jen and I make it a point every year to trek up to Estes Park to spend at least one evening with the bull elk as they woo their girlfriends in their fascinating mating ritual. This year Bec joined us, and I think our annual tradition will become hers as well.

As dusk approaches and it begins to get darker, you start hearing the eerie sound of the bulls – a sound that begins low and increases in pitch until it echoes against the mountains. It is beautiful, and apparently the female elk agree. They can’t resist. Who could? We read that in preparation for the evening’s activities, the bulls urinate and then roll in the wet mud. What female could turn their noses up at such sex appeal?

Each year it seems we get a better show, and this year was no exception. We saw two Elk bugling 2015 (2)big bulls fighting for their territory. They lowered their heads and charged each other. They stomped their feet and charged again. Suddenly (or at least it seemed sudden to us), the fight was over. We couldn’t tell who won. The two just turned around and walked off in opposite directions. We never figured out the rules, though we tried.

We watched an interesting display that included three bull elks – one of which was injured and walked with a decided limp. He must have lost a fight. The other two played some sort of elk waiting game. Suddenly, one of the bulls walked over to the other bull’s herd and lured one of the cows to come with him. She seemed undecided, but the big bull elk helped her make the decision as he began to chase her over to his herd. We couldn’t quite figure out whether she was happy or not. At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter because it’s the males that make the decision.

It was a glorious weekend. The first night we cooked steaks on the grill and ate them atsteaks estes park a table on our balcony at the Deer Crest Resort. It was a lovely warm fall night, and the grounds of this resort are beautiful. I promise I’m not being paid by the hotel to recommend this accommodation. The resort and the owners are both delightful. I can’t recommend it enough. The owner joined us that evening at the fire pit, shortly after the three of us drank our Fireball whiskey shots. Now that’s a sentence I never thought I would write. But, well, yum.

We spent much time sitting by the Fall River, listening to the sounds of nature.

We spent much time sitting by the Fall River, listening to the sounds of nature.

The second night, after the amazing elk show, we ate dinner at the Dunraven Inn, which provided us another grand experience. Jen ate mussels, and Bec and I each had cioppino. If I wasn’t such a lady, I would have licked my bowl. Yum again……

cioppino dunraven

We had a wonderful weekend, which unfortunately concluded with the car incident about which I wrote yesterday. But what the heck! Even that provided us with a great story to tell.

Bill will be home today, and it is my sincerest hope that he will NOT have rolled in mud.

 

 

This Time It Wasn’t the Yellow Bug

Fall River

Beautiful Fall River in Estes Park, Colorado.

When my sister Bec was visiting back in July, we had plans for a sisters’s weekend in one of our favorite places — Estes Park. I have mentioned before that we have pleasant memories of family vacations in that pretty little town just outside Rocky Mountain National Park and Bec, Jen, and I try to spend a weekend there once a year. Unfortunately, as they say, “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” (Those Scots. They’re so optimistic.)

Well, awry the plans indeed went as I ended up in the hospital last July. However, since resiliency is our middle name, we immediately made new plans for Bec to come back early in the fall so that we could not only hear the elk bugle, but see some fall color as well.

So, we spent this past weekend in Estes Park, and had an amazing time. I will tell you about it tomorrow. Because I have to tell you about some more best laid plans that went where? Yes, you guessed it. Awry.

We decided to conclude our wonderful weekend with a walk around Bear Lake before we would leave for home. The walk is not only breathtakingly beautiful; it was one of our mother’s favorite activities. We walk it partly in memory of Mom.

After morning coffee and some relaxing time sitting by Fall River, which flows merrily past our hotel, we packed up the cars — Jen’s and mine. I had elected to drive the Hyundai to Estes Park because Bill is in Chicago and it is so much nicer to drive in the mountains than my yellow bug. I agreed to drive into the park to Bear Lake. We all got in, put on our seat belts, and I started the car. Smooth sailing. Until I try to put the car into reverse and it won’t happen. A no-go. A deal breaker. It won’t move out of park and my dashboard is black. That seemed troublesome.

I won’t go into detail about how calm, cool, and collected I WASN’T. Thanks be to God my sisters kept me centered. Jen worked with Bill via Face Time and regular telephone in an attempt to figure out what was wrong. We finally narrowed it down to it being a problem with one of the fuses. Bless Bill’s heart. He really tried to talk us (and when I say us, I mean Jen) through a number of attempts to diagnose and perhaps even fix it, but at the end of the day, I called my old friends at AAA. God bless AAA.

“Hello Kris. How have you been? What’s the yellow bug up to now?”

hyundai tow truck

Bec and I end up driving back to Denver in a tow truck, pulling the Hyundai behind us. Bec sat on the hump. She’s a good sister. As you would imagine, there are not a plethora of towing companies in Estes Park. Bob’s Towing is about the only game in town. So Mrs. Bob’s Towing towed us while Mr. Bob’s Towing stayed in Estes Park awaiting the next call. Apparently they get many calls every day.

We enjoyed our conversation with Mrs. Bob’s Towing (whose name is actually Diane) as we drove down the mountain into Denver. The car is awaiting repair, and I’m back to driving the yellow bug, which is feeling smug that for once, it wasn’t the cause of the AAA call.

And Bec is wondering if she will ever visit us without drama ensuing.

Saturday Smile: Ben

depositphotos_9155720-Rat-cartoonAbout this same time every year, we have evidence that mice are preparing for the winter by gathering food from our back yard. I stop filling the bird feeders with sunflower seeds around mid-August in an effort to discourage their presence. The reality is that I don’t mind if the little buggers are outside; I just don’t want them in my house.

For this reason, I have been very clear with the grandkids that they need to CLOSE THE SCREEN DOOR when they go in or out of the house. I have explained to them that there are mice outside who are preparing for the winter and that they would love to get into our nice, warm house. For the most part, the kids have complied.

Late morning of the first day that I explained this to Kaiya and Mylee, Mylee (who had kaiya mylee hats (2)been in the house playing with Legos) came outside to join the rest of us. As she stepped outside, carefully closing the door after her — she said at the top of her voice, “Nana, show me those rats that are in your backyard.” I could almost hear the neighbors gasp in unison.

By the way, probably only baby boomers will understand the reference in the title of this blog post. Remember Ben?

Have a great weekend.

Thursday Thoughts

I’ve Been Treed!
I settled in for what was going to be a quick babysitting job for Cole earlier this week, and mostly while he napped. Cole’s mommy was going to help out at school and work on some of her Mylee tree eyeroom mother activities. She went a little early so that she could have lunch with Kaiya and Mylee (who don’t share a lunch period). Around 1 o’clock, I got a text message from Alyx saying she had to rush Mylee to the eye doctor because she had gotten something in her eye at recess following lunch. The school nurse thought it might be a bit of metal. Yikes. It turned out to not be metal; instead, it was a bit of bark from a tree. No use even wondering how something like that could happen. Court got home before Alyx and the girls. I asked him if he was surprised that it happened to Mylee. “Oh, not at all,” he assured me. “That kind of stuff happens to Mylee all of the time.” Every family has one. Mylee’s going to be theirs. I’m happy to report that she is fine, despite getting tree in her eye.

Batter Up
After my babysitting gig, I went directly to Addie’s middle school where she was playing softball with the Hamilton Huskies. I was happy to be able to see her play before we leave for Arizona in mid-October. Since Hamilton is part of the Denver Addie softballPublic School system, her team could be playing anywhere in the metro area. The rare home game offered me an opportunity to observe her softball skills. Though her team lost by a couple of points, I’m happy to say that Addie was up at bat twice, hit the ball twice, and scored two runs. The final run involved running home when the catcher missed the ball. All of the Hamilton fans (which admittedly consisted mostly of Addie’s family) were screaming, “Slide! Slide! Slide!” She, of course, didn’t, but was called safe at home plate. Before she could walk back to her team, the umpire took her aside and told her, “You really needed to slide.” As Adelaide walked back to the bench with a big grin on her face, I overheard her tell her teammate, “I probably should learn to slide.

Approximate Time
The four McLain grandkids were over the other evening as their mother and father watched the CU/CSU football game with friends. I sat for a while and talked with 10-year-old Alastair, who, as you know by now, is a character. Since it was clear they were going to be going to bed later than usual – particularly after the game went into overtime – I asked Alastair if he still gets up so early in the morning. (He used to arise sometime around 5:30.) Here’s his answer, and I quote: “Well, I guess I get up around 6:08. But sometimes I sleep until sometime around 7:42.” There you have it.

Apron Strings
The reaction from my blog post the other day about my grandmother and her aprons generated a lot of response. Not only did I have one of my best days for total “hits” on my blog, I had a number of comments – both on my blog and on Facebook — from people who knew Grammie. She was clearly loved and respected by many people. I heard from a number of my cousins who were so happy to see Grammie’s smiling face on the post. I hope I have as much impact on my grandkids as did my grandmother on her grandkids. And my plea for a pattern got me some suggestions. Bill insists he is going to sew me an apron!

Mason Jars
mason jar drinking cup
Recently I have noticed many stores are carrying something that I bought a while back at Target – plastic caps and straws that fit into the band of a mason jar so that you can drink from it. The other morning, I made Bill and I smoothies for breakfast, and I served them up in the mason jar. Bill, who never EVER notices what I use as serving dishes (and I can’t really blame him for that) was extremely impressed with how his beverage was served. So impressed, in fact that he commented on it. So Tuesday at the grocery store, I bought a package to take with us to Arizona since I don’t know if they are yet available in the desert. The young man checking me out looked at the package and said, “Oh my gosh, these are so cute.” Wow. What will they think of next?

Ciao!

 

How Does Food Network Say to Do It?

imgresI have watched Food Network almost from the very beginning (which Wikipedia tells me was 1993). I watched Tyler Florence when he was on a program called How to Boil Water. He was something like 15 years old. I still prepare a chicken enchilada recipe I learned from him on the show.

I watched Emeril Lagasse entertain crowds via his over-the-top personality and garlic-laden cooking. I don’t believe I have ever cooked a single one of his recipes as they are way too complicated. Still, he was a founding food star on Food Network and fun to watch.

I watched the early Bobby Flay programs back when he had only married and divorced a couple of women and Giada De Laurentiis wasn’t even a gleam in his eye. I don’t believe I have ever even looked at one of his recipes because frankly, he annoys me and always has. How could he cheat on his beautiful and talented wife Stephanie March? You know how friends choose who they are going to stick with following a divorce? I choose Stephanie! I loved her on Law and Order. Still, I watched his shows. How could I not? They were ubiquitous.

I was a fan of Paula Deen up until, during, and after her remarks about her use of the “N” word. Her honesty was refreshing and it isn’t like she didn’t learn from her mistakes. But man-oh-man did she need a better PR strategy. As for her recipes, yes indeed I have used many. I make her cinnamon ice cream very often. It’s my go-to recipe for ice cream. If I make vanilla ice cream, I simply leave out the cinnamon and add vanilla. Boom.

You can still find reruns of Alton Brown’s Good Eats on the Cooking Channel – Food Network’s annoying little brother. Good Eats used to be on at 10 o’clock at night Monday through Friday. While it’s unimaginable to me now to think about not being in bed reading by 9:30, I recall watching the show as I waited up for Court to get home from wherever he wasn’t supposed to be. Alton Brown is seriously funny and his show was irresistible. Nevertheless, I found he made things so difficult. I remember that in his show about baking cakes, he advised that the cakemaker should weigh the two cake pans to ensure you are putting exactly the same amount in each. My apologies to all of you first-borns who actually do this, but – SERIOUSLY?

At first I took everything the chefs and cooks said as religion. For example, they said (and continue to say) you simply can’t be a good cook without a gas stove. For many years I lamented the fact that I cooked on an electric glasstop stove. A couple of years ago it hit me that, despite my use of an electric stove, I was a perfectly fine cook as was my mother, who mostly cooked on an electric stove, though I have a distant memory of a gas stove and her having to use a match to light it. It is this memory, in fact, that prevents me from reconfiguring my kitchen to allow cooking with gas, as I am terrified of blowing myself up. That, and I don’t have $30,000 for a kitchen remodel.

My favorite chef, as well as my favorite cooking show of course is Lidia Bastianich. She is not on Food Network, but instead appears on PBS. Next to my mother, Lidia is the person from whom I have learned the most about cooking. I own all of her cookbooks, and all are well-worn. I find I talk to myself while cooking as though I am talking with Lidia. I have had the good luck to eat at one of her restaurants on several occasions  — Becco in NYC. Each time I have fervently wished that she would appear out of the kitchen so that I could run up to her, throw my arms around her, and thank her for teaching me to cook.

I am pleased to tell you she never did.

I will also tell you that many of my grandkids also watch Food Network. The other night I watched Cake Wars with the McLains (aka, The Cousins) at their bequest, and Kaiya and Mylee often watch Chopped with their Dad. It brings tears to my eyes.

While I now take what the chefs tell me with a grain of salt (remembering, for example, that I am not rich enough to own a house in the Hamptons, nor do I have a sous chef to prepare my ingredients), I have learned a lot from watching the chefs on Food Network.

Next week I will tell you what I’ve learned.

And for kicks……

Homemade Cinnamon Ice Cream, Adapted from Paula Deen and Food Network
Yield: 2-3 quarts

Ingredients
2 c. half-and-half
2 cinnamon sticks
½ pint heavy whipping cream
14-oz can sweetened condensed milk, chilled
1 qt. whole milk

Process
In a saucepan, combine half-and-half and cinnamon sticks. Cook for 20 minutes over low heat (do not boil) Remove cinnamon sticks and chill milk for 4 hours.

With an electric mixer, beat whipping cream on high speed until soft peaks form. Add the chilled sweetened condensed milk and continue to beat until stiff peaks form.

Add chilled half-and-half. Pour mixture into the canister of ice cream freezer. Freeze according to the ice cream maker manufacturer’s directions. Place ice cream in another container and freeze for several hours.

Apron Strings

I’ll bet if I had opened my grandmother’s closet, I would have seen maybe three or four dresses on hangers, a couple of pairs of shoes – one for church and one for every day, a pair of bedroom slippers, a nightgown, and a housecoat.

Moving to her dresser, in the top drawer I would find handerchiefs with crocheted edging that were stiffly starched and ironed covering up her stash of Swiss chocolate candy bars. The next drawer down might have held her underwear and her thick nylon stockings. And maybe more Swiss chocolate. The other drawers undoubtedly belonged to my grandfather.

I’m telling you this much:  the woman didn’t own a pair of slacks. Her wardrobe didn’t include a blouse or a skirt or a shirt of any kind. She wore simple house dresses every single day of her adult life.

Unless she was dressed up. And she always wore the same thing when she was dressed up – a navy blue shirtwaist with white polka dots. If she was going to church or to one of our piano recitals, she added a hat. Boom. Navy dress; polka dots; hat: Grammie was ready for church.

But the best way to tell if Grammie was dressed up was if she had on her apron. If she did not, she was heading out to church or to visit a friend. Because if she was at home, she was wearing an apron.  And her aprons were all the same — a bib apron that went over her head and tied or buttoned in the back and made out of cotton material with a floral print. Mom had a seamstress friend who made them for her to give to Grammie for Christmas or her birthday or Mother’s Day. They looked something like this, only with a floral print…..

sewing-pattern-backless-reversible-tunic-for-woman-

I have been thinking about Grammie and her aprons a lot lately as I’ve spent more time baking or with my grandkids. Or both.  I am always dirty. I have noticed that as I go through my day, I am constantly wiping my hands on my pants without giving it a second thought. That is until I get undressed at night to get ready for bed and see that my pants are covered with mud or floury handprints or play doh because, see above. I’ve been wiping my hands on my pants. My shirts are wet with watermelon dribble or Oreo crumbs or maybe spaghetti sauce from my dinner. Cole is in a constant state of drool as he apparently is always working on teeth. Drool = Messy Shirt.

I need an apron. I know now why Grammie always had on an apron.

Grammie in apron (2)

So I have begun looking for aprons to buy or make. And when I say make, I mean pay someone to make it. I can’t sew a stitch. It actually is easier said than done. I can find numerous half aprons or the bib aprons that tie in the back and have straps that go around your neck. But I want an apron like my grandmother wore – almost like a shirt you wore backwards. It had sleeves through which you put your arms and it either tied or buttoned in the back. I have been wholly unsuccessful searching for a pattern for such an apron. It’s true. I am becoming my grandmother. But that’s okay because now I know why the apron was always a part of her attire.

So if anyone has any thoughts on acquiring such a pattern, let me know. Even Pinterest has let me down.

In the meantime, I will continue wiping my hands on my pants.

This post linked to the GRAND Social

 

Jumping for Joy

When you’re the third-born of four kids, birthdays are kind of a conundrum. A conundrum at least for the person trying to figure out what to buy you when, between all of the children, there is nothing your family doesn’t own. Of course, as third-born, you mustn’t mind hand-me-downs (or ups). My sister Jen, herself a third-born of four kids, still talks about the trials and tribulations of being stuck in the lower middle half of the family. You would think she’d be over it now that she’s 696 months old.

So, I put on my thinking cap back in early August when my third-born granddaughter Dagny celebrated her 9th birthday. I asked her mom for suggestions. A new bike helmet or a lunchbox for school, said she. Doesn’t that sound like the practical mom’s perfect birthday suggestions?

I did go ahead and buy her a new helmet, because, well, she moved to a new bike helmet age group, and at least a helmet is used when doing something fun. I just couldn’t do a lunchbox. Too boring. I kept imagining Dagny’s face when she opened up the present only to see a lunch box and thermos, reminding her that summer was almost over and school would soon begin. Just what I wanted, Nana, she would say with a fake smile. Someplace to put my half-of-a-turkey sandwich and my fruit chews in the morning and someplace to bring my half-of-a-turkey sandwich with one bite out of it home again in the afternoon.

But I remembered last winter when I asked Dagny (as I ask all of my grandkids) what she wanted for Christmas. Top of her list was to do something with me that didn’t include the other kids. Now that’s a third-born for you. I didn’t make that happen at Christmas because Bill and I leave Christmas Day for our winter in Arizona. But when I began thinking about her birthday, well, voila! So in addition to the bike helmet, I added a note saying I would take she and a friend to lunch anywhere she wanted, and then on to Jumpstreet. For those of you not familiar with Jumpstreet, it is an indoor trampoline park and all-around fun place for kids. You’re never too old to have fun at Jumpstreet is their slogan. That is, of course, not strictly true, which is why I offered to have Dagny invite a friend. The last time I jumped on a trampoline, I was seven years old and ended up in the hospital with a hernia. That, my friends, is a true story. So for my part, I enjoyed reading for two hours while they jumped to their hearts’ content. No hernia.

Dagny Brynn Jump Street

Dagny (right) and Brynn after two hours of nonstop jumping. Don’t they look pooped?

For a month now, Dagny has been considering where she wanted me to take her for lunch. I told her the only restriction was distance. Money wasn’t a particular consideration. McCormick & Schmick’s? Nope, she doesn’t like seafood or fish. Benihana’s? No again because while she likes to watch them cook her food, she doesn’t particularly like the offerings. So where did we end up?

Smashburger. Worked for me. I enjoyed my jalapeno Smashburger immensely. Dagny and her friend Brynn enjoyed their lunches as well, including enormous Oreo milkshakes. As an aside, they drank maybe a third of their shakes and then took them with them in a to-go cup to enjoy after Jumpstreet. Unfortunately, the inside of the yellow bug got hot enough to roast a pig, and their milkshakes didn’t quite survive.

Dagny Brynn Smashburger

Dagny and her friend Brynn enjoy their Oreo milkshakes.

I had a wonderful afternoon with the two fourth graders. I enjoyed hearing them talk about this, that, and the other. We had a fun discussion at lunch about their friendship, their siblings, their favorite subjects in school, and how their mommies and daddies met. Now that’s a subject for another blog post.

Saturday Smile: It Never Gets Old

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Apologies to my readers who are not Broncos fans. If you, however, are a football fan, you have to admit that the game on Thursday between the Denver Broncos and the Kansas City Chiefs was a good one. I PROMISE I would have said this even if we had lost. I might not have said it if we had lost big. But to tie up the game with less than 40 seconds left makes for exciting football. And then, the icing on the cake for Broncos fans is that on the Chief’s first play after the Broncos tied it up, rather than taking a knee, they ran the ball. A fumble resulted in a touchdown for the Broncos. It was quite exciting. Bill and I were screaming just a little bit.

But here’s what made me smile…..

Peyton Manning is 39 years old and has played I don’t know how many games, but a lot. So he has been interviewed very many times after a game, and many of those interviews were after a win. As many times as I have seen him interviewed, I have never seen him quite as tickled as he was in this interview. Even game analyst Phil Simms, who practically chokes when he has to say something good about the Broncos, pointed out that he has never seen Peyton look this happy in an interview….

http://www.nfl.com/videos/nfl-game-highlights/0ap3000000533110/Manning-happy-about-win

Have a good weekend.