everyone said we'd jump into summer

Two weeks after the snow storm we had a heat wave . . . 90* and higher.  The bus route was extremely warm.  Wind whipped dirt into the open windows as we drove across gravel roads.  The fresh air of the country swirled in and students scurried to close the windows and then it felt like  there was a real danger of suffocating.  We survived. 


When it cooled down a bit, Krysta and I took a drive in the car without air conditioning.  We oohed and aaahed at the blue of the sky and the puffy white clouds.  We ended up at our friends' place where a new baby ~ just one week old ~ was admired and cuddled.  The baby yawned and stretched and peeked at me through half opened eyes.  We relaxed on the front porch.  A border of tulips swayed in the breeze.    


Krysta was surrounded by a flock of little girls.  They skipped around showing her calves, bunnies, and chickens.  They ended up at the swing, giggling and taking turns swishing through the air.  Krysta got a chance to hold the baby and all the girls posed for the camera in the front lawn with the tulips.  Six beautiful girls . . .
 

Mountains of laundry

I once made the mistake of grumbling to my mom about the bathroom in my house. Now Mom was raised in a family of twelve children - six boys and six girls. Part of her growing up years was spent in a house without indoor plumbing. She was the wrong person to grumble to - totally the wrong person. She set me straight with a couple of quick questions.

 

 "When you turn on the faucet do you get hot and cold water?"

 

 "Yes, of course."

 

 "Do you have a toilet that flushes?"

 

 "Yes."

 

 "Then there is nothing to complain about!"

 

 

I got the hint. I have never growled about the bathroom from that day to this.

 

 

 

Stop laughing, Deanne. Okay, I try not to whine about the bathroom.

 

 

Moving on -- the subject today is not about the state of my bathroom. Today I am talking about laundry. If you have ever had the misfortune to grumble about doing laundry to me -- you will want to quietly back out of this blog and go to another blog where you will have peace and quiet.  I won't feel bad. Just back on out . . .

 

 

All right!

 

 

It was a pleasant surprise for me to discover I like to do laundry.

Mostly because there are so many things I don't have to do these days. I don't have to collect bacon and sausage grease and other cooking fats in crocks and tin pails and jars and store them for a whole year in the basement. Grease that gets moldy and rancid . . . Fats that need to be melted and strained and measured into a cauldron in my back yard.  I don't have to save ashes from the wood stove and pour water over them to produce potash, then measure that into the huge kettle - and what about the fire under this kettle? Who will chop the wood into just the right sized sticks so the fire will heat evenly? Who will stir and stir and stir so the soap doesn't scorch or get lumpy? All of this might be fun once just for the novelty of it, but how about every year? year after year?

 

 

Last but not least -- who will wash all of those greasy crocks and tin pails and jars and carry them back to the basement so they are handy when I start the process all over again? 

 

 

Nowadays I just traipse down the aisle of the local supermarket and choose laundry soap, buy it, bring it home and measure it into my front load washer. If I want a small glimpse of the old days I can make homemade laundry soap with this simple recipe.

 

 

Save a container that held liquid laundry soap. (one that holds more than a gallon so you have plenty of room)

Measure a gallon of hot water in a gallon pitcher.

Fill the soap container 1/3 full of hot water.

Measure and pour in:

1/4 cup borax

1/4 cup washing soda (Arm & Hammer Super washing soda)

Shake well.

Measure and pour in:

1/4 cup liquid Natural Castile soap

Pour the rest of the hot water into the soap container.

Shake gently.

Use 1/3 - 2/3 cup per load.  (more for a big load if needed)

This soap can be a mystery to me.

Sometimes when I make it there are lumps in it --

sometimes it is completely liquid with no lumps.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

  

I will confess I am glad for the well in our back yard. And the pipes, mostly hidden, that bring water into the house. I am glad for the septic system that takes used water away. I am glad there is no more trauma with wringer washers. Those hair rising stories of people getting their hands and arms caught and wrung through the wringer . . . the countless warnings to never, ever, ever go anywhere near a wringer when your hair is hanging. I'll even confess I like to wash clothes with a wringer washer. When I'm doing load after load of sheets and bedding I know it would all get done faster the old fashioned way.

 

 

I haven't even mentioned washing clothes in a lake or river using a scrubbing board and hanging the clothes over bushes to dry. Or hauling water up from the river like Pa did for Ma in Little House on the Prairie. How about bringing in snow to melt on the stove like Anne Hobbs in her book, Tisha, when she taught school in Alaska? 

 

Today I can throw a load of clothes in the washer and go take a nap if I am tired.  If I feel like it I can read a book or do crafts while the washer swishes soap and water and clothes around and around. 

 

I am spoiled rotten -- I'll be the first to admit it. 

 

 

 

 

Snow in May!

Last Wednesday evening I took the girls to driver's ed.  I bought some groceries then went to the library.  It was so rainy and miserable that I debated about going in . . . then I thought of a friend I hadn't talked to for awhile and gave her a call.  She was home and we had a delightful catching up.


All the time rain and sleet poured down the windows outside.  Inside the windows got all steamed up.  This is the time to wish vehemently for a proper fan that works in this elderly vehicle I drive.  I opened some windows and turned defrost and heat all the way up then drove very carefully to the driving school.  When the girls were done we headed to the first meeting place north of town about ten minutes.  The car that met us had SNOW on the hood.  Continued on north another ten minutes with increasing awful roads.  After that stop we travelled to our house. 


Let's just say snow is beautiful but when it is wet and coming down at a slant across the windshield in huge flakes then sticking to the road and building up in slushy ruts -- oh and did I mention that it was dark by this time? this is no longer beautiful but dangerous!  I was very glad to see the lights of home. 


In the morning we woke up to find a snowy world.  Ellis had to brave the wild roads with a four wheel drive.  When he got to Blooming Prairie and opened the door of the pick-up he pushed against snow.  They are saying this little town on the prairie got 18 inches of snow.  There was a five foot drift in front of the store.  Ellis and a friend started tunneling toward the door with shovels. 


This is the most snow we have had in May since they started keeping records 100+ years ago.
 --  the exciting things that can happen on May 2nd.

Pizza

Today we had sewing circle.  We each brought pizza for lunch . . . either a veggie pizza or a dessert pizza.  Scrumptious!  A"banana split" pizza was a big hit.  Yummy crust with pudding or yogurt ? on top then sliced bananas on top of that and maraschino cherries and drizzles of chocolate over everything.  Maybe some nuts and just a hint of granola . . .   I must get that recipe!


 on second thought maybe not

 lovely fruit pizzas

and four or five veggie pizzas


Here is the recipe for the vegetable pizza I brought.  I found out (at the last minute) I didn't have all the ingredients so I improvised.


2 pkg. crescent rolls
Press into large jelly roll pan and bake according to directions until light brown.
cool


Mix:
one 8 oz. container of whipped cream cheese   
(original recipe calls for 11 oz. regular cream cheese, softened)
1/3 cup salad dressing (Miracle Whip)                        
1 heaping tablespoon sour cream
1 tsp. dill weed
1 tsp. powdered ranch dressing
Here's where I put on my thinking cap.  I didn't have a pkg. of ranch dressing.  I dumped in garlic powder, onion powder, lemon and pepper, extra pepper and extra dill weed.  I figured it couldn't hurt.

Spread this mixture on crust.  Top with chopped vegetables and grated cheese.

My variation for the veggies . . . 
sauté in a small amount of butter -- chopped green peppers, chopped onions and sliced mushrooms (fresh)

Cool and put on the pizza.  Add grated cheese.  Cut in pieces and serve.


I am listening to Swiss Girl  yodel in the back ground so if this is disjointed and scatterbrained you will know why.  That and this unbelievable fact . . .

Krysta  is taking driver's training.  How can that be possible?  Two weeks of three hour classes every night.  Yes, it's wild and crazy here.  She is taking the class with two friends.  I think the girls are enjoying the class.  The chairs are hard though!  The instructor told the class they can bring pillows if they want to.  Last night was my turn to drive.  I walked around the lake at the library and talked to Deanne on the phone. 


Tonight it's pouring rain.


Tomorrow they are calling for snow!!! 


It is possible.  In 1988 we had a blizzard the first or second of May.  Ellis stayed at work and I was home alone with two little boys.  And then we had a very very hot, dry summer.  We had that hot, dry summer last year so maybe this summer will be lush and green. 

Until next time --

Vacation in Western Montana March 22nd - April 1st

   

     We went to MT to see Miss Dea.  She is teaching school at Trout Creek. 
                                         Krysta went horse back riding with a friend.
     
     Miss Jo             Miss Dea                               Krysta                  Jorgan


   
                                     Swinging bridge  at Kootenai Falls

                   
                                                             Pizza supper at the park

                  

We visited my brother over Easter week end. And here they are at a cave Sunday afternoon. 

  
       When we were packing Krysta said this would be her first *real* vacation. 
   She was quite small in 2000.  We were in Idaho for Hans and JoAnna's wedding.



                                          In 2003 Evan went to a boy's camp. 
                                  Jorgan, Krysta, Evan and I drove out for that. 
              Timothy was a baby - now he is 10!  Krysta was five - now she is 15! 
                      She got to celebrate her birthday while we were out west.


                                        In 2005 we had a family reunion in Idaho. 
                   All of Krysta's *vacations* were in the first seven years of her life.
                              Until now she has had to put up with week end jaunts.

My Great-Grandpa

It happened to me again that Sunday evening.  We were singing at the local nursing home.  Our leader picked Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me and as we started into the old familiar song my throat choked up.  I sang with tears sliding down my cheeks, paying close attention to the words.
 

A picture of a flock of little girls came to mind.  My sisters and I all had brown hair falling to our waists.  We had dresses with full swirling skirts, belts tied in big bows and puffed sleeves.  White socks and black patent leather shoes finished off our Sunday best.  We tiptoed along as we followed our aunt Leah like shadows.  We were a subdued group, quite a change from our normal hopping and skipping and chattering.  She took us to visit our great-grandpa; an old, old man he seemed to us.
 

An adult lifted me up on my great-grandpa's knee.  I was afraid to breathe for fear I'd be too heavy for him.  Someone suggested we sing a song.  Leah is three and a half years older than me . . . almost like a big sister to my sisters and me.  She leaned against the arm of Grandpa's chair and started singing Rock of Ages.  Grandpa's deep voice joined her.  I tried to help but I didn't know the words.
     

Rock of Ages, cleft for me Let me hide myself in Thee;

Let the water and the blood, From Thy riven side which flowed,

Be of sin the double cure; Cleanse me from its guilt and pow'r.
 

Not the labor of my hands Can fulfill the law's demands;

Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears forever flow,

All for sin could not atone, Thou must save, and Thou alone.
 

Nothing in my hands I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling;

Naked, come to Thee for dress; Helpless, look to Thee for grace,

Foul, I to the fountain fly, Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
 

While I draw this fleeting breath, When my heart strings break in death,

When I soar to worlds unknown, See Thee on Thy judgement throne,

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee.

 

-- Augustus M. Toplady, 1740-1778                           Thomas Hastings, 1784-1872
 

Later my dad recorded Great-Grandpa and Leah singing together on his old-fashioned tape recorder. My sisters and I loved to watch Dad set the tape player up and wind the open reel -- getting everything just right.  There was a distinct smell of the tape that is hard to describe.  (We miss all of this drama when we casually pop in a cassette tape now. . . these cassette tapes that are going out with the 8 track tapes.) 

 

Get ready, get set, go!   Breathless and wide-eyed we'd wait impatiently for just the right moment and . . .

 

there they were . . . Grandpa and Leah singing Rock of Ages just as if they were in the room with us.
 

I can't explain my tears. This song stirs up a lot of memories.

---------------

Spring Songs

Yesterday I heard the spring song of a chickadee as I filled the bird feeders with sunflower seeds.

Phoebe    Phoebe    Phoebe  

Almost as if that little bird was perched on my shoulder -- it was so clear.  It seemed that even Ellis could have heard it if he had been there.  This sound is just out of his range of hearing.  The stories behind his hearing loss have something to do with a big fire cracker as a child and target practice without hearing protection as a young man.  One of the jobs he had involved feeding hungry pigs that screeched for their breakfast.   But the guys used hearing protection then.  Yes, I'm almost sure they did. 

At any rate, now he can't hear the spring song of the chickadee.     . . . or half of the things I say because I mumble.  =)  riding in a car and trying to have a conversation is very interesting when he is driving and I'm in the passenger seat.  You guessed it, the hearing loss is worse in his right ear.

We have had some go-arounds about this whole thing.  Sometimes I get seriously peeved - like really irritated, cross and annoyed all at the same time.  Ellis does too.  That would classify as a pity party wouldn't it?  Both of us have worked through this and it's much better than it used to be.  By this time you would think we'd be all grown up and past this type of behavior. 

Maybe this is a continual work like the verses in Philippians 2:12, 13 . . . work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.  For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do his good pleasure.    

Since God is working with me I am trying to memorize this math *problem* in II Peter 1.  Grace and peace be multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord . . .  giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity.  For if these things be in you, and abound, they make you that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.  But he that lacketh these things is blind, and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged from his old sins.

I am thankful -- God doesn't give up on me.