While studying some snapshots, I unexpectedly discovered I am the apple of my son’s eye.
Food on Fridays: Birthday Biscuits and Gravy
October 27, 2011 By 17 Comments
(smaller button below)
For the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome—though we love to try new dishes, your post doesn’t have to be a recipe. We’re pretty relaxed over here, and stories and photos are as welcome as menus and recipes.
When your Food on Fridays contribution is ready, just grab the broccoli button to paste at the top of your post. It ties us together visually.
Then fill in the boxes of this linky tool to join the fun!
Food on Fridays with Ann
Birthday boys and girls at our house get to request a special breakfast on their big day. I used to be able to guess pretty accurately who would ask for crepes and who would want chocolate croissants.
But times and tastes have changed, and my 16-year-old daughter surprised me by requesting biscuits and gravy.
This surprised me not only because she usually requests crepes, but also because my biscuits are inconsistent—they turn out dry and hard frequently enough that I asked if she was sure she wanted to take the risk.
She assured me that she likes them even if they turn out like hardtack. “After all,” she pointed out, “we’ll be putting the gravy on top, so that will moisten them up.”
So I pulled out my recipe and mixed up a double batch of biscuits.
While they baked, I pulled out a package of frozen sausage for the gravy.
And it worked. It all worked.
The biscuits were light and fluffy.
The gravy was rich and flavorful.
I usually request a Trader Joe’s chocolate croissant for my own birthday breakfast, but I might rethink that selection, because I seem to be getting the hang of biscuit-making.
Biscuits Supreme
(from Better Homes & Garden cookbook)
Ingredients:
- 2 C flour
- 1/2 t salt
- 4 t baking powder
- 2 t sugar (I left out the sugar)
- 1/2 t cream of tartar
- 1/2 C shortening (I used half butter, half applesauce)
- 2/3 C milk
Directions:
Sift dry ingredients into a bowl. Cut in the shortening until it resembles coarse crumbs. Make a well, add milk (and applesauce). Stir quickly with fork till dough follows fork around the bowl. Turn onto lightly floured surface. Knead gently 10-12 strokes. Roll or pat 1/2 inch thick. Cut with cutter (I used a juice glass). Bake on ungreased baking sheet, very hot oven (450) 10-12 minutes.
Gravy
Gravy instructions: Brown 1 pound thawed breakfast sausage. Sprinkle about 1/4 cup flour (maybe less) into the pan. Stir to make a kind of roux. Add milk and stir on low to medium heat until gravy thickens to preferred consistency (add milk if it thickens too much). Salt and pepper to taste. Add additional sage if desired.
:::
Credits: All photos by Sophie Marie. Used with permission.
Curiosity Journal: October 26, 2011
October 26, 2011 By 6 Comments
Each Wednesday I’m recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the past week. Tag words are: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.
:::
Some of you have mentioned that you’re keeping a Curiosity Journal, as well. Leave your link in the comments so that we can visit and enjoy your weekly review.
Reading
This is not a book week; instead, I’ve browsed blogs I’m subscribed to in Google Reader, stopping to savor stories that catch my eye.
Playing
Our son composed a song for a statewide contest last year, when he was nine years old.
He was one of several blue-ribbon award winners at his level. He received a ribbon, a certificate, and the opportunity to pay for a copy of the book in which his piece was published. We displayed the certificate and applauded his success, but didn’t bother to buy the overpriced book. He played his song at the spring concert back in April and we thought that was the end of it.
Then his teacher said he was invited, along with the other blue-ribbon winners, to play his piece live, in a concert hall at the Indiana University School of Music.
On Saturday, wearing a clip-on tie that matched a purple dress shirt, black slacks, and a new pair of black shoes that we purchased at Kohl’s just minutes before driving to I.U., he played his composition on a grand piano in front of hundreds of adoring fans family members, other participants, and members of the IMTA.
The setting was beautiful indoors and out.
In fact, the day seemed just about perfect.
Learning
Thanks to the switch from film to digital photography, I am free to snap countless shots from various angles on multiple settings, learning as I go.
Though none of my work looks professional, I occasionally produce something interesting.
This new hobby is my main source of play.
Reacting
On a recent drive to my parents’ house, in early-morning dark, a small bird flew in front of my minivan. I heard a thunk.
“Oh, dear,” I thought, “I hope it survived.”
No time to stop. I was late to take my mom to a doctor’s appointment, so I kept going and pulled in the driveway, stepped inside to tell Mom and Dad I had arrived, climbed back into the van with them, drove to the appointment, waited while Mom got her instructions, walked with them back to the van and then headed to a local diner for breakfast.
“You can just pull right up in front of the Presbyterian church to park,” he said. “You’re Presbyterian now, so this could be your church.”
I slid alongside the yellow curb, leaving space for a truck to pull out.
After breakfast, Mom and I left the diner and walked back to the van. We climbed in and waited for Dad; he took a long time to say a few words to the waitress and greet one of the diners, a farmer friend who is a distant relative. Finally, we watched Dad come around the corner and lumber toward us.
He paused in front of the van and bent over to peer at it.
I watched him reach into the grill and pluck something out with his thumb and forefinger, dangling it by its leg:
The limp bird.
It had been wedged in the grill of my minivan all that time.
Dad tossed it aside. When he opened the minivan door, he said, “You killed it.”
“It flew in front of me this morning,” I explained, “in the dark.”
“You killed it deliberately, didn’t you.”
I opted for sarcasm, as he seemed to be attempting a joke. “Oh, yes, I steered straight toward it as it swooped into view.”
“It’s too bad,” he said, easing himself into the passenger’s seat. “It’s a nice bird, too, not just a sparrow. It was a songbird, I think.”
I handed Dad some hand sanitizer and said, “Well, a sparrow is a kind of songbird.”
He didn’t hear me. Or, at least, he didn’t respond. He did, however, smear some of the clear gel on his hands.
As I pulled away from the church, I glanced at the crumpled little form next to the yellow curb and felt a crumple in my gut, but Dad was pointing at a building, saying, “Maybe you could buy the old American Legion Hall. I’ll bet you could get it cheap.”
Writing
People ask me often if I have another book in the works.
I don’t; at least, not right now.
I’ve had ideas. I’ve toyed with those ideas. I’ve even conducted some research.
But I’m not at this moment writing a book or pulling together a proposal.
At the moment, I’m content to write blog posts, edit articles for The High Calling, and teach.
:::
Photo Credits
Question mark photo and all photos under “Playing” by Ann Kroeker; blue seats, Ford Hall sign, boy at piano, chandelier closeup, and fountain closeup by Sophie Marie. Used with permission. All rights reserved.
A Sacred Pathway
October 23, 2011 By 23 Comments
On Friday, before speaking at a MOPS group about slowing down in our fast-paced world, I stopped to snap a couple of photos. Days of rain had given us nothing but gloomy gray skies, but that morning I awoke to the sun’s yellow bloom against sea-blue sky.
I gazed, amazed, at a backdrop of red and yellow leaves, as if awakening in Technicolor Oz after several tiring, black-and-white days in Dorothy’s Kansas.
Then I spoke.
Among other things, I encouraged the moms to get outside with their kids and enjoy God’s creation as a way to interrupt the perpetual motion of our minivan-based lives. We need the calm, I said.
Afterwards, I decide not to race home, but to explore a wooded area near the church, where a sign hangs from a thick beam: “A Sacred Pathway.”
A leaf-coated gravel path weaves through trees.
Along the way, benches with small crosses invite quiet moments of contemplation.
Further in, a circle of rocks surround a fire pit.
And a smooth metal cross boldly reflects light and shadow, even color, while proclaiming God’s love.
The sun warms me, even though filtered through leaves. I feel the rock’s granite ridges and settle into a relatively flat, angled area that faces the fire pit.
I look up.
Sun.
I look over my shoulder.
Cross.
I could sit here all day.
But this Sacred Pathway is only a brief respite.
I rise from the rock after giving thanks, and then slowly continue around the loop, pausing to note the beauty.
Acorn caps lie atop beds of maple and sweet gum leaves bunched up where wind brushes them—nudges them—together.
I look up from the soft watercolor arrangement and realize I am at the end of the path. The welcoming sign is blank on the back.
Before exiting, I stop.
Deep breath.
I turn around and think how easy it is to give thanks in a space that posts reminders along the way.
Then I pass under the sign and emerge from the shade of trees into full sunlight that glares off the asphalt parking lot.
My minivan awaits.
:::
This post is written in community with L.L. Barkat’s On, In, and Around Mondays writing project, Laura Boggess’s Playdates with God, and Michelle Derusha’s Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday.
Food on Fridays: Surprise Sweet Potatoes
October 20, 2011 By 12 Comments
(smaller button below)
For the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome—though we love to try new dishes, your post doesn’t have to be a recipe. We’re pretty relaxed over here, and stories and photos are as welcome as menus and recipes.
When your Food on Fridays contribution is ready, just grab the broccoli button to paste at the top of your post. It ties us together visually.
Then fill in the boxes of this linky tool to join the fun!
Food on Fridays with Ann
In the spring, at planting time, I was coughing, weakened by bronchitis and asthma. Unmotivated, I had no vision for a garden, no energy, yet the Belgian Wonder proceeded to turn and till the soil, raking it level. He led me out to see it flat and prepped, ready for seedlings to be tucked in and take root.
It sat like that, waiting. For weeks.
I drove past the local nurseries now and then, and Lowes Garden Center, thinking I should pick up some plants. Then I’d drive on past, too tired to make decisions.
Finally, I felt a little better. Well into the growing season, I decided to buy some seedlings—no time for seeds.
Lowes offered a meager selection. I couldn’t even find a zucchini plant. I purchased a few scraggly tomato plants that had outgrown their biodegradable pots, one pumpkin, cucumbers and some peppers. Impulsively, I grabbed a flat of cheap sweet potato plants.
I’d never grown sweet potatoes, though I love to eat them.
I didn’t know how to plant them, and because I was still coughing, weak and unmotivated, I didn’t bother to research online. Instead, I just stuck them in the ground.
As summer warmed up, the sweet potato vines slithered through the jungle of weeds that I let engulf my measly garden. I wasn’t sure how long to wait before digging and discovering, so I just left them there. I kind of forgot about them. Late in the season, I picked the few tomatoes that appeared on my neglected tomato plants and plucked some green and yellow peppers that survived the drought.
The sweet potatoes seemed lost, so low to the ground as fox tails and thistles towered over them. I expected nothing.
Not long ago, I was pulling weeds and revealed the sweet potato vines, still green and vibrant. I started to tug, and they led me back to their beginnings, to the spots where I had stuck them in the earth.
One of my daughters was wandering around the yard sucking on a popsicle.
“Could you bring me a spade?”
“Sure!”
She returned with the spade, and I slowly turned the soil over, starting at the end of the row. Nothing. Just soil. I dug again and turned…and…found…
Potatoes.
Silently, all summer, they had been forming in the dark, underground, even when the vines above had little light or moisture.
I dug down again and again, learning the feel of the soil when it held a treasure.
As I unearthed them in clumps, I felt so humbled that they would have managed to produce when I had done so little.
Walking inside with my plastic Target bag loaded down, I felt rich.
Credits: Sweet potato photos by Ann Kroeker.
Curiosity Journal: October 19, 2011
October 20, 2011 By 4 Comments
Each Wednesday (or Thursday, if I’m running late) I’m recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the past week. Tag words are: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.
:::
Some of you have mentioned that you’re keeping a Curiosity Journal, as well. Leave your link in the comments so that we can visit and enjoy your weekly review.
Reading
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I was using every spare moment to read student papers submitted for a writing class I’m facilitating: essays on Success and Failure based on a prompt created by SparkNotes. The class only meets once a week, so one of the ways I continue to teach is by embedding detailed evaluations directly into the text of their papers. It’s not the ideal way to offer input, but it’s better than nothing.
On Monday, before diving into those papers, I managed to publish a response to a chapter in Mindfulness, the book I’ve been reading with The High Calling book club. I’ve mined no more than a few nuggets from this particular read, one of which I highlighted in that post.
I also spent time last week reading through the word portraits composed in response to the Community Writing Project at The High Calling.
Playing
The current PhotoPlay prompt at The High Calling describes the use of contre-jour, or shooting against the light. Assistant Photo Editor Kelly Sauer‘s shots are always infused with light, creating a soft, soul-stirring glow. I longed to achieve that effect, but by the time I figured out how to change settings on my camera to let in more light, cloud cover and rain moved in. No sun. No light. No contre-jour.
But during that first wave of playing around, I was able to capture this.
It’s a start.
Can’t wait for the sun to come out, so I can go out and play.
Learning
The other day my daughter came downstairs and mumbled that she felt funny all over. Achy. I swear I could see heat shimmering from her cheeks. While the rest of us went to co-op, she had to stay home, missing critical instruction.
Before we left that morning, I asked, “Which class are you most concerned about?”
“Worldview,” she replied. “She’s going to explain everything we need to know about our papers, and I don’t want to mess mine up.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, maybe Algebra 2.”
I should think so. It’s her most challenging subject.
For Worldview, I plugged in my smartphone and set it next to one of the students, a fun and kind young man who is always eager to help. “Can this phone sit next to you and record the class?” I asked.
“Sure!”
I brought up the voice recorder and it rolled for the entire 1.5 hours. The student amused himself by leaning down and whispering things like, “Make sure you write this down. It’s important.” The young man happens to be quite attractive. When I brought home the recording for her that afternoon, I suspect she listened more attentively for the times he spoke directly to her.
Then I had the brilliant idea of using Skype for Algebra 2. My daughter logged in at home and I logged in at co-op, setting my laptop on the table so that my daughter could listen to the lecture and take notes in real time.
We dealt with minor glitches. For one, the class couldn’t hear my daughter; but she could hear the class, which is what mattered most. Also, she couldn’t see the board due to glare, but from what the teacher was saying and the students were asking, she understood the lesson.
The next morning, her younger sister woke up with the same fever. Instead of having her skip or reschedule an Algebra 1 tutoring session scheduled that afternoon, I phoned the teacher and asked if she would consider trying Skype. She was willing. The teacher and my daughter met virtually, staying on track with her course work.
Reacting
On the ledge in our eating area sit bottles of sand and shells.
On my dresser lies a smooth stick I lugged home from the Gulf of Mexico.
In a glass bowl nearby, a collection of white rocks sifted from a dune.
As I look out the window next to my desk, sunlight struggles to penetrate cloud cover. We are given only a dull, lifeless, filtered gray-white.
I make tea as wind gusts fling branches.
I glance at my jars and try to imagine the feel of smooth white sand under bare feet, undulating surf curling in and skimming forward, leaving bubbly froth at my toes. I try from memory to hear the gulls and remember the silent, graceful pelicans gliding across the surface of the sea.
Then a rumble. The neighbor rolls his trash can up the driveway and into the garage. Someone flushes the upstairs toilet. I finish my tea and stare at the table for a moment before rinsing my cup.
Writing
I created the Community Writing Post summary for The High Calling on Wednesday, highlighting a couple of stories from the collection of word portraits that were composed. You can meet my grandmother.
:::
Credits: Question mark, jars of sand, and contre-jour photos copyright 2011 by Ann Kroeker.
Langer, Ellen. Mindfulness. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, Inc., 1989. Print.
Could Be
October 17, 2011 By 20 Comments
Twenty years ago, my husband and I were on a team of people serving behind-the-scenes at a Willow Creek-style start-up church. We’d been to Willow for a conference and came back inspired to do more with lighting; we wanted some par cans on the floor of the stage pointing up, providing a splash of color against the curtain. Like this.
I urged the team to create a new look using this concept.
“We can’t do it,” one of the tech guys said. “We don’t have the stand or plate to mount them.”
“Can we get what we need?” I asked. [Read more...]
Food on Fridays: Faking First Class
October 14, 2011 By 29 Comments
(smaller button below)
For the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome—though we love to try new dishes, your post doesn’t have to be a recipe. We’re pretty relaxed over here, and stories and photos are as welcome as menus and recipes.
When your Food on Fridays contribution is ready, just grab the broccoli button to paste at the top of your post. It ties us together visually.
Then fill in the boxes of this linky tool to join the fun! [Read more...]
Curiosity Journal: Oct. 12, 2011
October 12, 2011 By 11 Comments
Each Wednesday I’m recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the past week. Tag words are: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.
:::
Some of you have mentioned that you’re keeping a Curiosity Journal, as well. Leave your link in the comments so that we can visit and enjoy your weekly review.
Reading
I sent my mom the link to the book club post at The High Calling this week. The book club selection is Mindfulness, by Ellen J. Langer, and this week Laura Boggess summarized the chapter on Mindful Aging.
The book is packed with descriptions of studies and experiments, many designed and led by the author herself. In this chapter on aging, Langer describes dividing residents of a nursing home into an experimental and a control group. [Read more...]
Food on Fridays: Eating and Laughing
October 7, 2011 By 34 Comments
(smaller button below)
For the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome—though we love to try new dishes, your post doesn’t have to be a recipe. We’re pretty relaxed over here, and stories and photos are as welcome as menus and recipes.
When your Food on Fridays contribution is ready, just grab the broccoli button to paste at the top of your post. It ties us together visually.
Then fill in the boxes of this linky tool to join the fun! [Read more...]
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