Sweet Sixteen!

Our youngest daughter turned 16 on the 30th of March. 
She is being very sweet and patient with us since we cancelled
"driving with the instructor" in the month of March. 
The roads were awful.
Driving in town was an adventure --
   especially residential areas
   high snow banks
   cars parked on both sides of the street
Many streets looked like one ways
when in fact they were supposed to be two way.
You had to drive slowly and wait your turn to get through some spots.


And, last but not least, our family was in the middle of planning a trip to Washington towards the end of March.  So I called the instructor and asked if there is a deadline we have to meet between class time and driving.  She was very understanding and, thankfully, there is not a deadline.


Sigh of relief from me.
Sigh of anxiety from Krysta.


She knows how many things get pushed to the back burner
never to appear again.
"Well," I told the instructor, "I will get in touch with you
when the weather straightens out."
"Ok,"  she said.  "I'll talk to you in June."


Krysta was not amused.


On the 30th of March my thoughts drifted back to another 16 year old.


February 1977
I was a mother's helper for a whole week.  Our friends had a little girl and a little boy when a new baby girl was added to their family.  I stayed at their house to make things easier.  My job was to make meals, wash dishes, take care of laundry, read stories to the little ones, help them with baths and getting dressed and taking naps. 


One day I baked bread all by myself from start to finish.  Looking back, I don't know how that was possible because my girls don't know how to bake bread.  (Dea knows how to make cinnamon rolls that are to die for.)


At our house Mom made bread once a week -- at least.  We bought flour by the fifty pound bags and stored the flour in a big tin "garbage" can.  Mom never had a recipe written down.  She knew it by heart. She measured the water and the yeast exactly.  Otherwise it was a handful of salt, a spoonful of lard,  a spoonful of honey, stir until melted in the hot water - then start dumping in the flour.  She measured the flour with a sifter instead of by the cup.  When she had the flour measured she let us girls stir until it was too stiff to stir then she added one more sifter full of flour and it was time to knead the dough. 


And that's how I learned to make bread - by watching Mom every week and eventually doing it by myself.


My girls are learning to make quilts from start to finish instead.
In home ec .. .. .. 
  taught by my mom.  =)


Back to the week away from home . . . I had my 16th birthday somewhere in the middle of that adventure.  My family and friends brought a surprise party to me.  They knocked on the door, yelled "Happy Birthday!" and served cake and ice cream all around.


Last night we had a birthday supper over at Evan and Chelsea's place.  Krysta, Chelsea, and Jorgan have birthdays close together so we've started having one big party for all.


Here is the menu:
Chicken
Fried rice
Green beans
Lettuce salad
home made bread  (fresh from my mom's kitchen)
Cake and Ice Cream


And a Happy Anniversary to Dad and Mom
          who have been married 54 years!