Breath...

The cold winter wind finally found its way to the homestead; a wind of change, I do believe. This year is leaving me and moving on never to be seen again.

So many changes have come and gone on the little plot of earth we inhabit:
        children have grown...
             a grandchild has come...
                    jobs and routines have altered...
                      a boy became a man...
                           all while I wasn't looking.

This year has been a challenging year of revelation; a time to see the hard truths and find the way to face them. Nothing tragic has happened and no losses have occurred- things have just changed.

With a new year comes evaluation and adjustment; life will be different:
            no children living at home....
                a full time job with changes of its own...
                     a young man in the military spreading his wings and taking flight...
                          the home to consider.

There is no doubt in my mind the homestead will need to adjust to the needs and changes of our household. We have less people to feed, so considerations will be made regarding gardens, livestock, and space; no plans to end our homesteading- only adjust it.

I sit in the quiet wrapped in hand made warmth; Ben and my warm cup for company as I patiently wait for the ideas to flow. For now, it is time to rest... to breath.

Happy New Year! May God's grace be with you.



 

Dough and Sauce

the eating started before we could snap a photo

   I can't remember how it all began or where it seems to have started, but my family has had a deep connection to pizza making gatherings as far back as I can remember. When I was a girl, still at home with my parents, pizza gatherings came regularly in the form of extended family gatherings at my grandparents' home just up the road from here.
   A weekend ritual; each had their place in the pizza making line up. My cousin and I (nearly the same age) always shaped the dough. We chatted and laughed as our hands worked the lump into every inch of the baking sheets; getting it ready for the toppings our mothers and grandmother would add to it. Hot, cheesy pizza was eaten over the chatter of family gathered around the big table covered with my grandmother's embroidered table cloth.
   My cousin and I would slip off to the creek after dinner to catch minnows and wade the cold waters before dark fell on the woods.Off alone, we shared our stories of interests, life and activities- we were close back then. Night would fall; games were pulled from the closet and played around that same big table with great rivalry- the competitive spirit running deep. Those days seem so long ago.

   Now, in my own home, pizza making nights are shared with many who come and go through our doors. Extended family, friends even our past foster children loved gathering around lumps of dough and pots of sauce sharing our lives as our hands worked together forming the meal. No special occasion is needed; no fancy recipes; just hands and hearts and a lump of dough.
   This past weekend, we revisited the pizza making gathering as my parents came to visit. All around the farm table.. dough and sauce, toppings and tasting...chatter about our projects and plans and days gone by- all in celebration of a special birthday. We made memories together- again.

   One day the torch will pass and it will be up to my farm kids to carry on the tradition. We will gather around their kitchen with dough and sauce; with their families and friends. Laughter and love will continue as we make memories with dough and sauce.

Precious Memories

   In the great expanse of prairie life there are many variables; the weather, the crops, the herd and the gatherings. No matter the circumstances a few constants always remained; my grandmothers. Strong women of the prairie who lived through hard times, maintained a steady homestead, and were faithful to their families. My grandmother and I had a wonderful relationship, but, oddly enough, my great grandmother and I had and even better one.
   Just a ways from the farm in a little 'suburb'-type area was where she lived. Encircled by a white picket fence, her house always made me thing of a 'cottage' with simple, native flower gardens and a little white rock driveway. There was a trellis-arbor to enter her place; rambling roses climbed and bloomed there. Just like a picture on a postcard, her gate just seemed to welcome you in.
   Often our arrivals were abrupt..just picking her up for a monumental and rare trip to a neighboring town where the only Walmart was located. She and I sat together in the back seat of my grandmother's big car. She's squeeze my hand and smile; sparkling eyes hidden by tinted glasses, a light hint of red on her lips. Red hair was tucked in a scarf and a hefty dust of powder coated her softly lined face.
   Once at the store my great grandmother and I were left to ourselves; she didn't walk as fast as the others. I always stayed close by her because, after all, she may need some help reading a label or seeing things. Her first stop was always the perfume counter. I do not like perfume; don't wear it nor do I enjoy it, but one of my favorite memories of her is the perfume counter.
   In those days perfume counters had whole trays full of 'tester' bottles. She would spritz her wrists to sniff each one, then as me to sniff as well..to determine the 'best one'. When her wrists ran out of room, it was time to use mine. Goodness, we must have been quite a scent to come across! From there we went to test talcum powders before hitting the rest of the store; anything fragrant was grounds for testing and sniffing....beware the candles..and when she discovered potpourri- oh, my!
   The end of our shopping trip sent us to her home where bags were unloaded over iced tea. My job was to take Fritzie outdoors for a "puddle". Such a tiny little ball of fluff; I didn't know anyone else with such an itty bitty dog. He and I went out back, and, you had to watch it because he would slip under the fence. Off to the side of the house was her laundry room where the old cast iron chicken fryer sat atop her dryer..I have no idea why she kept it there, but it was always there; always. Then came the garage where her powered blue car sat; I found it fascinating..powder blue. She didn't drive, but she kept that car and it looked perfect..like right out of a picture.
   Before heading back to the farm there was always 'a little something' to eat. My great grandmother would open the cabinet next to the fridge and pull out a flour sack towel covered bowl full of fried chicken. Talk about a quirk that would weird you out--many a times I got 'the look' for asking why her chicken wasn't in the fridge - since it was in the cabinet right next to the fridge..a girl needs to know these things, right?
   In later years she moved from her home to an assisted living apartment, but my great grandmother stayed a vital part of our farm lives. Her frequent visits to the big farm kept her actively part of that busy and sustainable life. Along side her I shelled peas, pitted cherries, and snapped beans every season. Along side -her memories were made of perfume and fried chicken.

Long Ago & Far Away

 

Working the gardens today, restored the place in heart where my love of garden dwells. My return home this afternoon found me daydreaming of those wonderful days long ago and far away when I was a girl on the great big prairie. Those days formed my soul's yearning to plant and plow and watch it grow. Travel with me, won't you?

 Long summer days faded into fall on the prairie; each days work grew as harvests came. When the canner was full the grandmothers would sit and chat while I slipped out to find my freedom in the big prairie farm.

   Canning day: trapped in the kitchen with jars and lids, beans and carrots and....the pressure canner. I saw a jar explode in that thing and I've been afraid of it every since. As the grandmothers become busy chatting over boiling pots opportunity opens; time to make my getaway!
   Slipping out the back door, I dart through the garage dodging little kitties on the way. No time to stop and pet one, goodness, the grandmothers might spot me through the screen door and chain me to the endless buckets of beans to snap or cherries to pit...ewe, no way..I'm running. Down the sloping gravel drive as fast as little bare feet can go (why didn't I think to slip on the shoes..oh, yea, no time!). Grass welcomes my toes near the tree line..another old friend greets me there: the old round rope swing.
   I don't know where it came from or how long it's been here, but I never remember a time when it wasn't here. Long yellow rope hangs high from the big tree...at the bottom an orange plastic disk is the perfect size for me. At the edge of the grassy area a smile creeps across my face. My feet take off with record speed toward the swing...one flying leap, my hands catch the rope as I make my way onto the swing.
   At the top of the sway the fall sun kisses my cheeks softly; my eyes close as the warmth embraces me. Gravity pulls me back to the earth tugging wisps of my hair free from their braids; they dance around my face like dandelion fluff. Again! Tugging the rope as far as it reaches I leap on and start the joyful cycle again; ah, freedom!
   Dozens and dozens of jumps and swirls, twirls and spins restore my little soul (after hours of kitchen canning torture). Then, in the corner of my eye, the tank! Near the swing sits a huge propane tank- shiny silver and big! Really big! In the summer that tank gets hot enough to eat your flesh right off your legs, but in fall...such temptation..it would be so fun.
   I dart the the garage, grab one of the braided rugs we use to sit on the metal lawn chairs...this will make a perfect horse blanket. Back down the slope to the grassy patch..excitement gives me tingles. I know I shouldn't, but....one quick look...then..
   Tossing the blanket on my sturdy steed I hop on his back. "Giddy-up," I command as I lean forward..bouncing with his mighty gallop. My hands hold the 'reigns' and my feet kick at his sides while we ride swiftly over the prairie grasses....braids flying as his main flicks my face. A giggle can't help but escape my lips...until.
   "What on earth are you doing?" ....busted! Here it comes...the 'you're going to blow yourself up' lecture and enslavement to the canning jars.

   In all the years I spent on my grandparent's prairie home, the orange disk rope swing hung there at the base of the drive right near the big propane tank. My grandmother would always warn me about the risk of getting blown up from bumping that tank; sometimes the temptation was just too much. God must surely have been watching me; it never did explode in all my rambunctious naughtiness. I suppose He understand the silly heart of a little child just at play.

Nourish and Recover

Hot and nourishing soup

    Tonight I sit with ice chips in hand, recovering for this morning's rude awakening. Nothing stops me in my tracks like a wicked stomach bug. This is the first time I have been sick with out any of my girls at home. Usually we take turns fetching ice, gathering tissues, and making a pot of hearty chicken soup. Tonight I relied on my own devices as my farm guys managed feeding and milking; have I mentioned, my guys do not milk..but that is another post!

NOURISHING CHICKEN SOUP

Broth:

1 whole bird, skinned and washed

8 cups water (or enough to cover bird in pot)

1 tablespoon cider vinegar

1 onion

5 garlic cloves, smashed

2 chilies (fresh or dried)

Place all ingredients in a stock pot (or crock pot) and cover. Simmer 12 hours- low and slow. Remove the bird- take the meat off the bones and refrigerate until needed. Place the bones back in the stock pot and simmer 12 more hours..skimming if needed.

The longer you cook the stock, the richer and more flavorful it is. 

After 24 hours, strain through a fine mesh sieve (or cheese cloth), discarding bones/veggies. 

Either freeze the stock in quart containers or place it in a large pot and make soup.

Soup:

Broth from above (fresh or thawed)

4 onions, coarsely chopped

8 carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped

6 celery stocks, coarsely chopped

2-4 zucchinis, thick sliced

1 small head broccoli, coarsely chopped

5 garlic cloves, finely chopped

4 inch of ginger, grated

2-4 tablespoons sea salt

2-4 teaspoons crushed red pepper

small bunch basil, rosemary, sage and oregano

a large bunch of thyme

chicken meat from earlier cooking

fresh parsley (to top at serving)

In a stock pot, simmer all ingredients (except the meat parsley) until veggies are fork tender. Stir in meat just to warm..adding parsley at serving time. 

This soup freezes well in serving portions or quarts.

Fortunate for me, broth was already made and frozen for days like this. Chicken was leftover from Monday's dinner, and veggies were on hand making this a bit quicker process.

   We have been eating this soup for several years now; when recovering from illness, detoxing after heavy meals (or seasonally), and after a nasty migraine. It is a blessing to us..I hope it is a blessing to you. Now, off to enjoy a little nourishing..after... :)

The Almighty A1 Bottle

     It was our family birthday tradition; something looked forward to year after year- angel food cake. Whenever a birthday drew near, we knew any day now we would walk through the door welcomed by the sweet aroma of cake; the distinct scent only an angel food cake yields. We were also greeted with the stern warning that a slammed door meant a fallen cake!
      Angel food cakes are strange and amazing concoctions. Eggs beaten soundly into submission, infused with bits of sugar and a hint of vanilla and oozed into a pan that always scared me half to death. I have always been thoroughly convinced that one day the batter would find a way to creep out of the bottom..since the bottom is not actually attached to the sides. To this day I hold my breath every time the cake batter goes into the pan- every time. Issues..I know.
       One thing I could never figure out was the A1 bottle. No matter which family member seemed to be making angel food cake, the same item was used for the all important upside down cooling. As soon as the cratered cloud top began to sport brown peaks the all important, all mighty A1 bottle was called forth to higher service. No longer just a condiment for savory meat meals, the A1 bottle performed the amazing feat of supporting a ginormous, piping hot cake until the magical cooling time.
       With out fail the cake always come out just right, the bottle never wavered under its task, and the cake made it to the table heartily topped with seven minute icing. I suppose there must be some grand scientific, algebraic answer to the reason A1 bottles perform such amazing feats; I sure haven't discovered it. Either way, these days, I make the angel food cake..and with out fail my breath is held every time..and the A1 bottle comes into service faithfully serving with Atlas-like strength. Here's to birthdays, blessings, and the almighty A1 bottle. 

My Perspective on Teenage Boys

    Teenage boys. It seems the mere thought of our baby's teen years can crumple even the most resolute parent. When my own children were little ones, the thought of those teen years scared me half to death. I have survived, even adapted, once my girls made it there. Now we have a boy smack dab in the middle of his teens- let me just say, it's completely different.

       My heart, as a mother, has been to raise up a young man with a heart for God and a strong sense of accountability. This is not easy, yet, nothing worth doing is. In order for such character qualities to develop, there must be examples before myself and him- this can be difficult to find. We realized early on those models were not to be found in the media, the video games, or popular culture. If we want to raise a young man who is strong, faithful, and determined to respect others we have to buck the system and search long and hard.

        The first place to start is prayer. Many a night on my knees seeking God's discernment and guidance. From there, I had to open my eyes to the role models already in our life. We are blessed with a honorable and faithful husband/father who holds to hard work and respect, grandfathers and great-grandfathers who are close enough to us to be leaders in a young man's life. Here lie primary jewels often neglected in the quest for raising up young men. Our farm boy has spent a great deal of time elbow to elbow with these men in his life gleaning skills, character, and Godly guidance from them,

          Let's expand. Home and family influence can be complemented or contradicted by external influence. Church leaders, sports coaches, and 4H leaders have come in and out of our teenage boy's life offering examples of Godly manhood and respectable behavior. Unfortunately, as a parent, we have to be present and paying attention recognizing when and if and influence lines up with the character we are teaching. It takes a strong parent to recognize and remove the issue if it is detrimental. By God's grace, we have been blessed with Godly men in so many of these areas; backing up the teaching of quality characteristics and masculine respect.

            As for friendships with peers, it seems as healthy influences are present in his life, our farm boy has been able to discern relationships very well on his own. Occasionally we have had conversations about different peers in our social realm only to realize he had already discerned the issue and been working it out on his own.

          All that said, the reality is..the farm boy is with me more often than not, leaving a relationship in itself that must be fostered. I am his biggest fan, his toughest critic, his sounding board, and a huge influence. How we relate will determine how he relates to other women, including his future young woman. My role is not only discipline and nurture, it is to show him how to treat women and how to relate with them without pushing an effeminate or demasculating character over his will.
          I have found it a fine balancing act to respect his role as a young man, yet, reveal and remind him I am a woman, I am his mother, and I am an adult. Daily we are found side by side hauling feed, working gardens, building, repairing, and handling the in and out of homestead life. We train together in martial arts, shooting, fishing, and even 'survival hikes'. A young man must be respected as a young man, yet, reminded that women are not only a complement, but have their strengths as well. When attitude hits our house- and it does- we 'work it out on the mats' or in the fields, getting that tension off our shoulders and reminding each other there is a need for mutual respect.

    Do we have it all figured out? No way. Are we working through it? Absolutely, and learning every step of the way. I did not write this to glorify myself or make my son seem unrealistically ideal. These are difficult, formative years..those of us in the trenches need to stand together and support each other as we rise to the challenge. My heart goes out to parents recognizing the dangerous and devastating reality of our culture and our children's generation. Stay strong and press on. It is so very worth it in the end. 

Remember that prayer and discernment is the key, Seek His help, and you will find a way. My husband and I are here, in the trenches with you. If there is anything we can pray with you about, or if you have an issue you would like to talk over with another parent in the trenches, please email us at simplyscaife@yahoo.com. God bless!

Time to Head into The Field

As summer begins, blueberry season starts its brief time here in the south. This year finds us a bit late in our berry picking adventure. Plump juicy bubbles of blue goodness dangle temptingly from tall sprawly bushes. Blueberries are not native to our region, but years of testing and trying have brought the blueberry to our deep south. 

We have been picking our fresh blueberries since the kids were just tots, toting picnic lunches and wagons through the rows year after year. Often my farm boy rode on my shoulders gathering berries from overhead; his sisters at my feet gathering from below. 

He now carries his own bucket and, being much taller than I, he challenges me to pick a load faster than he does.

 

His sisters are no longer at my feet. They carried their own load for several years. For the first time our girls didn't join us; work called one away; one is married and on her own..it happens when they grow.

As a special treat, my husband came along for his third berry picking trip. Nice to have a few strong arms to help haul those heavy buckets:)

Pound after pound, year after year, no manner how many or few of us, our family heads into the fields..fields filled with history..fields where my family built memories..with blueberries.

The Graduate

    Yes, it's true..another farm girl is talking the walk. Jen has been our bundle of fire and bubbles from day one. Determined and strong willed, she has diligently stood for hard work and deep compassion from the very beginning. Her heart for the Lord led her to missions and ministry from the elderly to the special treasures in this world.
    This weekend she passes from high school/duel credit to graduate in a major college. We will laugh, cry, and pull a few good ones with our wild and wonderful farm girl all in celebration of her amazing accomplishments. Congrats to the grad!

Care and Keeping: Cast Iron

  

    Heavy cast iron is a priceless treasure to be used and maintained year after year. In days of old there was a respect for things; you took care of what you had. Generations past held to the notion things were not disposable and not easily replaced. Their well used, well seasoned cast iron wares were often handed down to the next generations filled with memories of the home it came from.

     My family has been using cast iron ware as far back as I can remember. Grandmothers and great-grandmothers passed their wares on to us as we each married and acquired homes of our own. Virtually nondestructive, cast iron ware will no doubt outlast us, nevertheless, it does need some care.

     Iron ware is used every meal, every day in my kitchen. Most often it is maintained by wiping out debris with a dry cloth and swiping a bit of oil across the cooking surface. This keeps it clean and well seasoned for the next use. Deeper cleaning is done yearly..a good once over with salt and a luffa scrub, a rub all over with some oil and an overnight in the oven (100 degrees). Deep cleaning restores and nourishes the dark cast and deep seasons the surface.  

 

    Neglected or forgotten cast iron that may have rusted over or become chunk with debris needs some attention and some elbow grease. When I restored these cast iron treasures, I started by gathering a few old cleaning cloths, some salt, and oil. The farmhouse table was covered with paper; it's not necessary, but it doesn't hurt. The iron ware was given a good rub down with oil; a vegetable shortening or lard would work as well..always use what's available. Next, the inside of the pan was generously sprinkled with salt..scrubbed in to remove rust particles. Using a fresh towel, the iron ware was wiped down to determine if another scrub was needed; either repeat the process or move on to seasoning the pan with a clean cloth an some oil/shortening/lard.
   Let me add a note here. If there are layers of rust deep in the pan or if the pan is dimpled with gunk or rust flakes I slather it with oil and throw it in a fire or grill pit for an hour. Once it cools I use sand paper to scrub the surface well- removing the rust/gunk only until we have a smooth surface to work with. From here I start the oil/salt cleaning and then on to seasoning.
   Rusty pans need to be rust free before 'seasoning'. Once the salt/oil routine above is finished, wiping iwth a clean towel should show no signs of the rust. If it does, I the process again. After the pans give a clean towel it is time for a healthy seasoning. Here, I heat my oven or outdoor grill to around 400 degrees while rubbing down my cast iron ware inside and out with oil or shortening/lard. Aluminum foil on the rack of the oven or grill will help catch any dripping that occurs during the curing. Pans are placed upside down and left for one hour. Heat is then turned off and the pans are left until they cool completely.
   A well seasoned pan after curing will be dark black with a nice sheen to it. If the pan was extremely rusty or damaged (i.e sandpaper had to be used) the pan will look dry or "off" so repeating the seasoning process (oil/oven one hour) needs to be done until the pan develops a black "sheen" to it. The worst pan I ever restored only needed the process done twice. For a new pan that was unseasoned (grey when we bought it), this curing process seasoned the pan with only two runs.
   As my children grow and leave home, the gift of well tended cast iron goes with them.

 

Family Activities for Resurrection

http://www.deeprootsathome.com/2012/02/my-picks-of-the-week-%e2%80%98eoa%e2%80%99-link-up-25/capture-9/

The Suffering Messiah by simplynik

  Over the years our Resurrection week (or Passion week or Holy week) activities have varied and changed according to the ages and understandings of our children. Early years brought crafts and simple lessons into our study of Christ's passion while later years involved readings and research into our studies. In the past few years we have studied the Jewish passover Seder elements and their symbolism- as well as viewing the movie The Passion.
   Ten things we have done to celebrate Resurrection:
1. Baked Resurrection Cookies (as found here http://www.annieshomepage.com/resurrectioncookies.html):
2. Interactively studied the Bible's account of the last week of Christ starting with Palm Sunday until Resurrection morning (i.e. making palm leaves, discovering unleaven bread, and making a cross in our yard)
3. Used Resurrection Eggs to share with other children ( found here http://www.creativebiblestudy.com/resurrection-eggs.html)
4. Baked Resurrection rolls (as found here http://my.homewithgod.com/mkcathy/holiday/resurrectionrolls.html)
5. Watched The Passion together as a family one section at a time while studying the passion in the Bible.
6. Memorized Scriptures relating to the cross of Christ, written them on note cards, and placed them at the foot of the cross (a table size one) representing our love for Him.
7. Constructed a full size cross and placed it near our gate.
8. Served in various church based activities geared toward reaching the lost (or those who attend only on holidays).
9. Attended Resurrection services at our church.
10. Gathered with family and friends to celebrate the wonder of the Cross.

  As we draw near to Resurrection weekend, please consider prayerfully what God has planned for us; what message He may be trying to give.

Looking Forward to,..

photo from images file

   Coloring eggs has never been an "Easter" festivity for us, but simply a part of spring time. We love the challenge of mixing dye, creating resist in decorative motifs, and, of course, eating the eggs! Several years ago I stumbled across a recipe for delicious Challah- and someone had used the festive colored eggs to garnish this braid for a beautiful table centerpiece.
   Bear in mind, this bread can be made anytime of year -without the eggs added to it. Melt in your mouth delicious- here is our version of Challah.


Challah

2 Tbsp yeast
3/4 cup warm water
3/4 cup milk
1/4 cup butter
2 Tbsp honey
2 tsp. salt
4 1/2 to 5 cups bread flour or 1/2 whole wheat and 1/2 bread flour
2 whole eggs
1 egg (reserved for glaze)

**This recipe may also be used to make one large braid or two small braids. This dough can be made in a bread machine on the dough cycle and then shaped by hand, or in a Kitchen Aide style mixer.


Mix 3/4 cup warm water, 2 eggs and yeast in mixer bowl. Stir in 2 cups flour, beat well, and allow the mixture to bubble up for about 15 minutes or more. Meanwhile, heat milk, butter, honey, until the butter melts. Cool to lukewarm. Add these ingredients to the bubbly mixture, add the salt, and stir in enough of the remaining flour to make a soft dough. Knead until the dough is smooth, and elastic but not dry; about 7 -10 minutes. Shape the dough into a ball.

Place the dough ball into a greased bowl. Turn once to grease the top. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise in warm place until doubled in bulk, about one hour. After the rise, divide into thirds. Roll each third into an 18-inch strand. Line up the three stands on a large, greased baking sheet. Braid loosely, beginning in center and working toward ends. Pinch ends together and tuck under in a circular shape.

Cover lightly (I use a flour sack towel) and let rise until double, about 30 minutes. Brush with beaten egg yolk.. Bake in a pre-heated 375 degree oven 35-45 minutes. In the last five minutes, gently tuck about five boiled, colored eggs. Cool on a wire rack.

   Slathered in butter, dotted with jam or..oh my goodness, lightly glazed with a sugary topping...I don't know about you, but this is a tasty treat to look forward to.

Christmas Memories

 

   Cold prairie winds blow snow into glistening drifts- family is gathering. Over night guests have arrived from near and far in preparation for a day of celebrating. Grandma and I have been busy with the aunts baking and cleaning- decorating and wrapping..it's Christmas on the farm.
   The day is filled with visitors and visiting- treats are nibbled while grown ups share coffee and news. Cousins play in the basement with toys our parents played with when they were little. Anticipation grows as the day wears on.
   Around the farm table everyone sets- everyone in their place. Card tables are set for cousins; just off the side of the big table and right next to the treats! Delicious aromas fill the air: roast turkey and buttery mashed potatoes- my mother's clover leaf dinner rolls, jello salads (Watergate and Pretty Pink) set beside a carrot salad and creamy deviled eggs.
   When the children become antsy the family makes their way to the big living room. Seats are taken around the magnificent tree as beautifully wrapped gifts are passed from person to person. Crinkly bows and twirly ribbon sparkly against bright colored paper. Dolls and games, cars and books- some clothes and perfumes  Pots and pans, sparkly 'what-nots'; gifts are opened and shared together in a carol of laughter and awe.
   There are a few quirky little gifts I look forward to like nothing else: the big red stocking and the cardboard story book. The big red stocking made of red netting is filled with silly little 'this-and- thats' that adults consider nonsense any other time of the year. Bouncy little rubber balls and swirly colored marbles; jacks and jump ropes or bubbles and water pistols...odd little 'store bought' candies like chocolate marshmallow Santas and candy coins. The story book is brightly colored cardboard that opens into a book filled with my favorite little hard candy- Lifesavers. A dozen rolls of every flavor they make will surely last me the whole year (not really, but I always think it will).
   With gifts all done we trickle toward the kitchen for pinches and tastes from the desert table. Grandma's poinsettia printed tablecloth covers card tables festively displaying her magical treats. Cherry mash candies sit next to her traditional Christmas pie. Sheets of 'broken glass' shine in red and green- one is cinnamon and one is mint, while toffee and brittle sit beautiful nearby. My mother's pies sparkle with shimmery sweet crust- one cherry and one apple with lattice tops and perfectly crimped edges. Deciding what to have is the challenge.
   Sitting there in the evening glow of colorful lights and soft evening lamps, my gaze wanders to the wild prairie. My eyes fall to the window where plastic candelabras shine with orange lights greeting cars as they pass by. Outside that window my prairie stretches out far and wide beneath a blanket of shimmering lights. Quiet and still the night glistens with beauty and wonder....so magical is the time when it's Christmas on the farm.

Make Contact

   The cold chill of the Christmas season draws us near to one another. We gather around tables and near fireplaces..loved ones all around. Despite the long list of things to be done and the hectic holiday traffic, our family sets our mind with stern determination to make contact.
    Not the contact by email or an online chat, but a face to face or phone to phone contact. Contact with the home bound, the assisted care residents..contact with family far away or a long lost friend. Lonely people are every where waiting for a friendly visit or phone call.
     As I join my parents at a local hospital for my father's heart cath, I am reminded of one Christmas contact. My friend and I had children close in age..and both had children in the hospital for days on end. Home from that now, our hearts went out to families stuck in those rooms during Christmas. We bundled our kids and hit the store filling bags with toys, games, and books...delivering them to the very floor of the hospital our own kids had been in just weeks before.
    Only a few years later, that friend and one of her daughters died in a car accident. Of the many fond memories I have of her and her family, our day of 'making contact' is one of my favorites. We not only made contact with families, but made contact with each other..a connectino that will last eternity.
      

Season's Serving: Angel Tree

Image from Angel Tree program

 

    

   Ministering in the prison system opened our eyes to things we otherwise may not have seen. While convicted criminals pay their debt to the society they have wronged, their families pay a heavy price..their children in particular. Suffering unnoticed are innocent victims of the choices made without them. 

   The Angel Tree program connects incarcerated families with their children through Christmas gifts given by donation. Children's wishes are placed on ornaments that decorate the Angel Tree often  set up at various churches or businesses; ours is at the YMCA. 

   Each year that one of our family members has worked for the YMCA we have chosen an ornament and filled the needs of a child or set of children...offering not only a gift, but the ministry of hope to their family.  For more information about the Angel Tree program, please visit their web sight here. 

Season's Serving: Filling the Need

   Holidays are times of gathering and feasting; of fireplaces and fuzzy blankets...but not for everyone. In our own backyard people are hungry, homeless, and cold..facing the season without their basic needs being met. As we prepare to share our blessings with one another, we also focus our feet on sharing our blessings with others.
   Food pantries are everywhere; our county, our churches, and often in local charity kitchens. Our family has gathered extra supplies for many avenues of pantry ministries. From our own local church, to the home reaching out to inmates' families food donations are always in need..in season or out. Grocery chains offer the convenience of purchasing a prepackaged bag of groceries for our county food bank...and crisis centers send mailers in our mailbox daily.
   In our shopping cart this month, those extra sale blessings..the two for fives or buy one get one's.. will be set aside and shared with those who need a little extra assistance. We never know when we ourselves may be on the receiving end of one of these special blessings.

Season's Serving: Give a Gift

 

In the day in and day out of things there often comes unique opportunities to share the love of Christ in ways that maybe only we can appreciate. My children have grown up in an agriculture rich, 4H environment that gave them a clear understanding of our relationship to our food. A desire to share that understanding and that gift came to light in the form of a goat. 

A year of county fair goat projects brought us to the World Vision  program. Here was an opportunity to send families in need the gift of sustainable living; a goat, some poultry or even the gift of water any where in the world. 

As our 4H project changed focus over the years, so did our choice of gift; one year a goat, one year some poultry, and so on. It has been a blessing to see my children's enthusiasm at the arrival of their gift catalog. Gathering around the table, we plot and plan the amount to spend and the gifts we can make; joy abounds no matter their age. 

Amazingly enough, this led us to year round sponsorship of children needing basic necessities, including education. We have been blessed to sponsor a child that out grew the program..and to take on a new one, just starting out. 

In a nation that has so much, I am proud and humbled to open the eyes and hearts of our family to the desperate needs of others.

Season's Serving: Assisting the Assisted

   When my children were grade school age, a conversation crossed our table...what would be under Christ's Christmas tree? Such a question sparked new conversation year after year. The easy answer is He wants our heart. Yet, the question rises how do we give it to Him? As a family committed to putting our faith to our feet we have worked in some wonderful opportunities over the years for giving Him our hearts for Christmas.
   My husband is a pastor..and has been a pastor to the assisted living residents off and on for many years. One particular season, he was serving in a 'ward of the state' facility. This facility was heartbreaking and in great need. Spending Sunday after Sunday with the staff and residents, our hearts ran deep with compassion for the situation they faced. That year, we put our faith and love in action by hosting a drive for 'necessities'.     
   I never realized many facilities depend on donations or family members to provide incontinence care needs (Depends) for their residents. In a state run facility, supplies often run short leaving a desperate need. Every shopping trip we made, a box or two of 'necessities' were purchased. On an off day (a day during the week when we were not expected to be there) we made a discrete trip by to deliver our offering.
   Now, we also hand delivered cards and little gifts to the residents and hosted a Christmas singing for them..but the secret joy in our hearts was knowing a private need was being met..and that our young children shared in an offering of compassion. Year after year, even though we are no longer hosting services in this facility, our hearts are always blessed by the secret service of assisting the assisted.

Fun Finds: Christmas Traditions

   Traditions run deep in many families..and new traditions come as families grow and change. Today was take a stroll through the web to look at the wonderful family traditions from all corners of the blog-o-sphere.

 

Over at The Texas Darlings there are gingerbread houses and family hayrides. My children grew up with both of these wonderful traditions and share those memories often. They may have slanted walls or droopy eaves, but a gingerbread house made together is a wonderful decor for a holiday table!

 

Next we land at Cracker Barrel where their Pinterest board shows popcorn garlands. I find this quite a challenge to do, but loved doing it year after year. Who knew you could laugh..and cry..so hard?

 

Around-about we land at Blooming Mommy where a family focused Advent calendar grew and bloomed over the years. We also used various methods of Advent during the course of our parenting journey..our favorite involved lighting candles. The possibilities are only limited by our imaginations.

  

Finally we land at Love to Know for some wonderful information on sharing Christmas celebrations from around the world. Doesn't a "12 Days of Christmas" learning plan sound wonderful? 

   As we prepare for the joyous celebration to come, may we not forget the reason for our gathering. Remembering the birth of our Savior is the most precious tradition; one that can last a lifetime and beyond. Join me next week as we look at serving and sharing Him during the holidays.

A Quirky Tradition

  

   Years ago I was invited to a woman's house to do some quilting. In her kitchen a tiny door was tucked under the cabinets; almost too discreet to see. When asked the purpose of the door she replied it was just for fun. There in sparked a silly and quirky tradition.

    This sweet little mouse ornament has been making her crafty appearance around the farmhouse since the first year we moved in. Only seen when holiday festivities are underway..she might be found under the piano or perched in a window sill. Each of us takes turns with joy and laughter placing her here and there. Great fun and imagination shine through her silly antics. Watch in corners and in the branches of the tree because you never know just where she might be.

   Today I found her tucked among the decorations just waiting to appear in our home. A smile crossed my face at the memory of many fun adventures we have had with her..oh the stories made up and shared over such a simple and quirky thing.