Before and after.....

I am known in my family for my deep seated fear of heights.  That fear covers many areas, from bridges to balconies, motorways to mountaintops.  And I discovered it also covered staircases, when we purchased our retirement home.

As you can see from the photos, the original staircase had open spindles, which we quite wobbly.  Try as I might, I just couldn't get used to the sensation of falling every time I went up and down.  Now I'm practical enough to realize that wasn't a reason not to buy the house, which I otherwise loved.  So after we started staying there, I hung large quilts on the bannisters upstairs so I couldn't see how far I would fall should they give way.

That didn't really seem a long term practical approach to the Englishman, so we brought in a professional and had it done up properly.  This is the result.  The carpenter raised the height of the banister going up the stairs in addition to using larger spindles.  He then built a half-wall on the top landing and at his suggestion, covered it in bead board.  Not only does it feel 100% secure to me now, it also looks fabulous and in keeping with the relaxed beach theme I'm going for.  It also gives peace of mind to middle daughter and I concerning the grandchildren.  

Good decision, as they say.

Thursday's thought for the day....

For years now I've been collecting quotes in a couple of notebooks that sort of "speak to me", as my middle daughter would say.  I like to share them with friends and family, especially through emails.  And because I find that I thrive when following some sort of schedule, I've decided that I will set aside Thursday to post a quote.  So now Tuesday, Thursday and Friday are set with dedicated post categories. Life is so much easier when I simplify!

"View your sensitivity as your strength, your vulnerability as your wisdom. Be humble but not self-effacing.  Struggle to bring forth all that is of deep meaning to you and express these feelings; share your insights with others"

                                                               
                                                                         Alexandra Stoddard, from her book Making Choices


Reminds me of the line in A Charlie Brown Christmas when Linus says, "That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown."  This is what my blogging is all about.

What did he say?

In the sidebar of this blog I state that the Englishman and I speak the same language, but that's not entirely true.  British English and American English have some very distinct differences.  So many in fact, that there is a book called "British English A to Zed", by Norman W. Schur,  which I purchased several years ago as a sort of "textbook" to supplement my new course of study.

When we met, it took me a little time to first adjust to the Englishman's accent. Tackling the deciphering of the unique phrases he used was secondary. Once I got the swing of it, we got on famously, as they say.  It was, however, quite a different story with his parents.

His father was born and raised in London, and his mother was brought up in Northern Ireland.  The first time we met, I was situated between them on a couch in the Englishman's apartment.  There was an animated conversation between parents and son during which I mostly listened.  Not because I was being polite.  I didn't understand half of what was being said!  I would smile at each of my future-in-laws whenever they spoke to me, but then quickly look at the Englishman with inquiring eyes and whisper, "what?".  I suspect he found it all rather amusing at the time.  Naturally, I didn't have the same view, as I was trying to make a good impression and being somewhat "mute" was not working toward that aim.

I did eventually catch on to my in-laws accents and over the years I was able to carry on long conversations without the Englishman acting as an interpreter.  They passed away some time ago, but I can still hear them.  Phrases like Mum saying, "hello, luv" and Dad grinning, calling out "cheeky little devil".  I miss them....

Predictably, when our daughters were little they encountered the same problems with the British English as their mother.  But that's a story for another blog.


**Very happy to report that Baby L is out of surgery and doing ok.  Prayers continue!  Will keep you updated.

Tip for a Tuesday....

Keeping a Record

Before my children were born, I vowed I would not be one of "those mothers" who found herself filling in the pages of a book about their child's first seven years of life when they were in high school.  I can honestly say that I'm actually not one of those mother's.  I'm one of the ones who bought the books and NEVER wrote in them!  I know, how awful!  There is probably a special room in heaven for me and my fellow mother memory failures, equipped with a writing table and multiple pens.

But I did do one thing right.  Daughter #1 started getting sick not long after she started preschool. (I began to think I saw more of the pediatrician than I did my husband!)  Each time I would call, I would write down the time of the appointment on the calendar.  Then when we got home, I would write the diagnosis and the name of the prescribed medication under that entry.

By the spring of daughter #1's first year of school, she had had bronchitis twice and now had developed pneumonia!  That was it - I withdrew her from school for the remainder of the school year.

Over the next couple of years, as the number of children increased, so did the doctor visits.  The doctor said I should expect to be in his office on average every two weeks with each child who was in school.  He said part of the reason was parents who sent their children to school even when they were sick, thereby exposing my girls to added germs.

Then a perusal of the calendar from the previous two years caused me to notice a pattern emerging.  I pointed this out to the doctor on our next visit. He said there was a possibility that my eldest had allergies and if her lungs weren't prepared properly for colds and infections, she would either continue to develop bronchitis or pneumonia.

Long story short, we went to an allergist and several allergic triggers were found.  Medication, restrictions and routines kept some of the illnesses under control over the next several years.  But it was only by discovering the pattern laid out on the calendar that we were sent in that direction.

So if you are as harried a mother as I was, or just a busy woman in general, a calendar can be an excellent place to jot down quick notes of what could be vital information or even an amusing anecdote.  

Oh, and I did sometimes write down certain "milestones" of first steps, first tooth, etc.  Since I've actually saved all the calendars starting from the year I met the Englishman, I should someday take the time to fill in those childhood books.

Or maybe I'll just give them to the girls and let them do it. :)

Say a prayer....

Please take a moment and say a prayer for a beautiful baby girl, who will be undergoing open heart surgery on Wednesday, October 26th.

Please pray for Baby L, her parents, big brother and all who love her.  Pray for the doctors and nurses who will hold her in their care.  

Ask your family and friends to pray also.

I am a firm believer in the power of prayer.  And whether you know the person or not, I believe all our prayers will be heard.

Thank you!

Good news, bad news....

You might recall from an earlier post my frustration with trying to feed the birds in my yard, but not the entire squirrel population of our neighborhood.  The plan was to move the bird feeder pole to an area which would be impossible for the grey rodents to "fly" to, so as to stop their constant draining of bird seed.

The Englishman kindly moved said pole this morning, with the addition of a new feeder.  And.......
success!  After dinner we spent time watching the area through the kitchen window and the numerous attempts made by two squirrels to grab some dinner.  All failed.  No amount of shimmying could gain access above the cone.  One gave considerable time to an idea of leaping from the tree located behind the bench.  Thankfully, upon careful consideration and running up and down several branches, he realized it was futile and gave up. Hurray!

So what's the bad news?  As the Englishman said, "We must be getting too soft in our old age."  Because we feel bad for the squirrels!  Oh yes.  Can you believe it?  Not that I'm going to remove obstacles and let them fill their bellies with seed.  Oh no.  Even sillier, I'm going to go back to the bird shop and purchase one of those wooden stands and corn cob things made specifically for squirrels.  I know, I know.

What was that series of books and television show in England years ago.... something about "All creatures great and small..."  He's right.  The Englishman and I ARE a couple of softies.  But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Before and after.....

Here is the living room of our house when it was on the market:

And here it is now....

Isn't it amazing what paint can do?

If you dream it....

Over the last several years I've developed a habit of saving pictures I love on the internet in my iPhoto folder on my computer.  Now I'm sure there are much better, more organized ways of saving images, but since I'm still on the lower rungs of the ladder of technology, that works for me.

I save all kinds of images from kitchens to bathrooms, hidden gardens to tight passageways, and droopy basset hounds to soul satisfying sunsets.

I read somewhere many years ago that if you keep picturing something in your mind, it may eventually come to pass.  I've been skeptical of that idea - picturing a large farmhouse overlooking the Atlantic has not come to fruition.  But I think it might actually work for much smaller dreams.

Recently, when scanning the hundreds of images I've saved I noticed that one looked slightly familiar.  The photo on the top is the saved image, while the two below are from my second home.  Don't they look alike?

The image of the stairs reflected in the mirror, the narrowness of it and the color were appealing to me.  Two summers ago, I happened on an antique shop of sorts and found the mirror and shelf I now have, quite cheap I'm happy to add.  And I think it works well.

So I will dream on, scanning my saved photos and seeking out more.  And I will picture them in my mind, and see what will come to be in reality.  The fun is really in the search, though, isn't it?

It's a girl!

That was music to my ears many years ago on this date, at 2:56 am when daughter #2 slipped quietly into this world at 19inches, weighing 7.9 lbs.   I was thrilled that daughter #1 would have a sister.  And besides, I "get" girls, being one myself.

She is, like me, the middle child.  "I'm the good one" she would proudly announce, while making a halo above her head with her hands.  She is a good one - and so much more!

Daughter #2 was timid and shy, yet would show immense courage in situations that surprised me. The little girl clutching her mother's skirt outside the Pre-K door, afraid to go inside, was also the little girl who would fiercely defend her classmates from bullies as she got older.  The little girl afraid of dogs, is now the owner of two!

I must admit I worried from the time she was a toddler that she would not be able to go away to college, leaving the comfort and security of Mom and home.  But go she did. And she stayed.  Even after the attacks on September 11th, a week after her arrival, caused her campus to go into lockdown.  And during her Senior year, when her then fiance was deployed to Iraq, rising at all hours of the night to talk to him online.  She did whatever she could to show her love and support of him, demonstrating incredible courage and strength.

She knew right from an early age who she wanted to be and what she wanted to do.  And she has followed her dreams and lived out her plan.  She married her Prince Charming right after college and became a teacher.

We have shared our love of teaching and spent time in each other's classrooms.  What a wonderful experience that has been.  And now we share something even more precious. She too is the mother of two daughters.
                         
So Happy Birthday to the beautiful, amazing young woman I have had the privilege to raise. May you know what a most precious gift you have been to me.   Love you!                                                              

A tip for Tuesday...

It's amazing how a simple purchase can grow into a family tradition and treasured collection.  When the Englishman and I celebrated our first Christmas together as man and wife, I bought a "First Christmas Together" ornament from Hallmark.  While on our honeymoon, we bought a Santa sitting beneath a palm tree ornament.  When daughter #1 joined us the following Christmas, it only seemed right to purchase a "First" ornament for her.  Wandering through the Hallmark store the following year, a frequent field trip, I discovered they had made a "Baby's Second Christmas" ornament.  Are you seeing a theme here?

And that's how it started.  Naturally, as each daughter joined us they too needed to have their own ornament.  As the girls grew and the numbered ornaments stopped during toddler years, I looked to find ornaments that would hold some meaning for each of them that particular year.  Maybe it was a favorite cartoon figure or a ballerina.  As Hallmark expanded their offerings the collections grew.  Soon there were "series" the girls might favor.  Sometimes it was just something that tugged at my heart and made me think of one of them. The tradition became that I would give them their new ornament the night we would decorate our tree and they would all hang them at the same time.

The girls have grown up and moved into homes of their own now.  And with them have gone their collections.  So not only do they have a large set of ornaments to adorn their tree, but the loving memories that each one invokes also. I still add to their collection each year.  Some traditions are hard to break, and as one of the girls pointed out, they tend to get rather large trees which take a lot of baubles to cover!

This idea can be adapted easily.  Ornaments can be found outside the doors of Hallmark - at small boutiques, craft fairs, and while traveling.  One can't have enough Santa's on surfboards now can one.  And prices can be as little or as grand as you can manage.

Or perhaps your child or grandchild has a particular interest or collection.  One of my daughters collects snowmen, one has always treasured her Precious Moments statues,  and another likes Pez containers.  The Englishman has begun a collection of small dolls from his travels around the world for our granddaughters.
Part of your fun can be in seeking out these treasures throughout the year.

So whether you celebrate Christmas or just want to bring a smile to a loved one, ornaments and collectibles can be be the beginnings of wonderful memories and a reminder of your love.

Surprise!

The Englishman and I have come down to our "future retirement" home for the weekend. I spent the first afternoon on a productive shopping trip with daughter #1. She joined us later that evening for homemade pizza before settling in for some tv viewing and attempts at solving a British murder mystery.

She and I were a bit startled when just before 9pm there was a soft knock at the door. Even more surprising was that the Englishman opened the door without hesitation, letting the basset boys charge past him and out the door. As I peeked around the corner I was stunned to see daughter #3 standing on the threshold wearing a huge grin. Surprise! When I inquired why she was here the Englishman smiled and said that she had brought a special package. I quickly looked behind her and was relieved to discover that my first thought was incorrect - and there was NOT a small puppy perched in a basket. Instead she presented me with a small corrugated box.

At the urging of the assembled family members I opened it and discovered....an iPhone! I WAS surprised - not something I was expecting. The Englishman and our youngest were extremely proud that had pulled off their covert mission. Daughter #3 had even come up with a name - "operation beagle" (no doubt she has the English sense of humor gene!)

I am enjoying the new phone, learning about all the apps and features, and loving the instant access it gives me to new photos of my granddaughters. But the part of the surprise I am most grateful for was the chance to have an unexpected visit with our youngest

Before and after.....

We've been living in our current home for about a dozen years now.  It is a Dutch Colonial, over 100 years old.  There have been many changes made to it over the years.  Sometime in the late 60's or early 70's one side of the house was converted into offices for a chiropractor.  We had a vision to restore it to a full time family home.

I hope to share over the next several Friday's some of the many changes we have made since living here.  It's been a lot of hard physical work, mostly for the Englishman.  But the rewards of what we have accomplished are priceless and the changes, I think, dramatic.  See for your self.

This is the front entrance before:

And after...

He's created a monster....

Are you a "gamer", I believe is the expression?  Someone who plays video games for hours on end?  The first video game I ever played was "pong" which gives you a clue as to how old I am!  For you young people, it was just a white ball on a dark screen that you would bounce back and forth - like ping pong.  It moved around even when no one was playing, making a "boop, boop" noise.  Mesmerizing, as well as, frankly, annoying.

A few months ago the Englishman was kind enough to pass on an early edition of the iPad to me.  Took a bit of time for me to get the hang of it, but now I am hooked.  Unfortunately, he downloaded a game for me recently.  It's about horses.  My oldest granddaughter is obsessed with horses so his pitch to me that it was essentially for her, to play when she and I spend time together.  Yeah, right.  That was the idea.  It has not been the result.

Yes, M has played with it a few times.  Despite being just shy of 3 years, she needed no instruction how to open, play, and close the game.  Unlike Grandmom.  The problem is that you do certain tasks in which to earn coins and gems, and then move up to the next level.  I hate to admit this, but the thing is addictive!  I keep telling the Englishman I am working feverishly in order to accumulate more horses for M, but I'm beginning to doubt my own words!  And they make the silly thing almost life-like.  The horses are beautiful and gallop gracefully around the paddock....

See what I mean?  So before this gets out of hand, I'm going to take a break for a while.  Let the horses look after themselves. I'm proud to be known as quite a few things, Mom, Grandmom, former teacher.  But gamer is not one of them!

It's for the birds....

Several months ago, the Englishman and I decided to try feeding the birds again in the backyard.  Previous attempts found us feeding the dogs and local squirrels more than the birds.  Clearly we needed some guidance in this area. So this time we went to an actual Bird Feed store to make a purchase.

We explained our situation to the assistant and were given excellent advice.  We purchased a tubular feeder, with a bottom tray to stop seed falling for the dogs and an overhead dome to protect the birds and seed from rain.  Similar to the one below.

Perfect!  The Englishman suspended the system from a strong iron arm beside a large window in the kitchen.  It worked like a dream!  For a time.  Then, I foolishly put out some suet.  It must have had a strong odor because before we knew it, the squirrels had discovered our hidden treasure.  Boy are they clever!  They can shimmy up drainpipes, hang from the gutters, drop from tree limbs.  I wish I were that limber!  It became very discouraging, not to mention costly, as I had to keep refilling the feeder daily now.

We decided that moving the feeding station was the answer.  We were wrong.  The squirrels had no problem climbing up the post we now hung it on.  We tried a baffle that wobbles and discovered the squirrels are quite adept at wobbling too.  And tonight, while washing the dinner dishes, I noticed they have the ability to leap several feet in the air on to the tray from a brick wall along our patio!  You'd think they had wings and were friends of Bullwinkle! (That was a cartoon girls, back in the dark ages, with a moose and a flying squirrel.)

So tomorrow I plan on moving the post further away from the wall.  And bushes.  And trees.  The Englishman gets a laugh watching me try to outsmart them.  So in addition to providing food for the birds and squirrels, I'm providing entertainment!  But tomorrow that ends.  Hopefully.  Probably.  Maybe.  We'll see.  I'll let you know.

Tip for a Tuesday....

Many, many years ago, before I met my husband, a wise woman offered me some sage advice.  She suggested that before my birthday and Christmas each year, I purchase a gift for myself.  Something small perhaps, but something that I really wanted.  That way she said I wouldn't be disappointed if the gifts I received in future weren't always to my taste or liking.  I would be satisfied, knowing I had gotten myself a special gift I knew I would love.

Let's face it.  Women are experts at taking care of others and always putting their needs first.  At least all the women I know.  (I'm sure those "housewives" women don't have this problem!)  For most of us it would never occur to us to actually get a gift for ourselves.  But I was wise enough to follow this advice.  She was right.  There is something satisfying about actually taking time to think about what I might like and then going and purchasing it.  Some years it was a book or a sweater.  In leaner times, a special magazine might suffice.  But acknowledging that, as the commercial says, "I'm worth it!" has been a real gift in itself for me.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I must say that I am in fact married to a prince (and not just because he's English!) who has given me the most wonderful gifts the past 33 years.  And I also have to include my three daughters in that assessment. Some of the gifts have been so perfect that they have brought me to tears!  Apparently the severity of my crying is the barometer by which they judge how perfect their gift is!

So for me, it's not about whether or not I have received wonderful gifts over the years. I have! It's more about  being sure I take time to really think about me, what I would like, and to follow through on being good to myself.  Just a suggestion....

What did you call me?

Since it is October, it brings to mind a slight dilemma the Englishman and I encountered when we first became parents.  In England, children call their mothers "Mummy".  After we were married, I called my mother-in-law "Mum" which felt right considering I still referred to my own mother as "Mom".  But the first time I heard my Englishman send daughter #1 on an errand to give me something, calling out "Go and give this to Mummy", I confess it gave me the giggles!  He tried it several more times but I couldn't stop from laughing and feeling strange.  So he gracefully gave in and started to say "Mommy".

As the other girls came along and they grew rapidly, the question became what would we refer to each other as in front of them.  My parents used to call each other Mom and Daddy.  It was quite a sight to see, my father who was ten years my mother's senior and over six feet tall, wandering around a department store calling out "Mom, Mom?"  I didn't want the same experience for myself and our family.  And I didn't want the girls to get the idea they could call us by our given names. (though the youngest gave it a go one day - much to her delight and that of her sisters!)  My Englishman came up with the idea of "The Mom".  Not to be outdone, I responded by calling him "The Dad".  And it stuck.

So now, I can be talking to one of the girls and she'll inquire something like,  "Did you ask the Dad if he help me with a project next week?".  I guess to an outsider it might sound strange, but we are so used to it that it just seems natural.

So, that's the story of why I am called "The Mom" and not "Mummy"!

Another Super Sunday....

Granddaughter M came to Grandmom's house again for another Sunday visit.  As we started to walk down the sidewalk, she said, "I love Grandmom"s house!".  She has been asking her mother all week if she could walk to Grandmom's again.  Music to my ears!

We had talked about making "coookies" as she calls them, but M really had no interest once she got here.  She went from room to room, playing with this and that and admiring items tucked up out of her reach.  "No cooking, Grandmom."  Which was fine with her grandparents, considering it was over 80 degrees today!

Grandad gave M a special donut, and later was able to get her to eat quite a bit of lunch.  She loves butter on bread, which I think comes from her English roots.  We toured the backyard with the bassets and admired the birdhouses and birdbath.  We love listening to her when she chatters away while playing.  Tiny china dogs from my dollhouse become Mommy, Daddy, M and Baby C with soothing calls of "It's ok, sweetheart".

The time flew by and soon we were heading back to M's house.  I confess to carrying her partway - she only had to hold up her arms and I scooped her up. I thought she might be a little concerned about some people she spotted down the street.  I held her tight and whispered, "Don't worry.  Grandmom's here."  She smiled at me. I think we both just needed a good long hug.

Before and after.....

This is the fireplace in our "future retirement" home, by the bay.  I'm sure there are many people who would just love the stone work which originally surrounded the fireplace.  I just couldn't bring myself to keep it.  So the Englishman surprised me one weekend by taking it down and replacing it with what he knew I would love.  He was right - perfect!

The first look is too formal for a house by the water.  The second look is much more in keeping with the look and feel we are trying to achieve.

In addition, we removed the wainscoting and wallpaper, and painted the walls a sunny yellow.  I mean, the Englishman, did all the work.  I came up with the ideas!

I actually traded the firescreens between our two houses.  They are much better suited to their new locations.

Thoughts on a passing......

"As we all reflect and take a moment to honor the loss and memory of Steve Jobs, it is most important to remember his family and those closest to him at this time. Though he was known and respected by millions, if not billions, he was still just a man loved dearly by his family and friends, taken by a heartbreaking cancer that leaves a void nothing can fill."

                   ~ written by daughter #3

My youngest daughter posted this early this morning.  I think it is beautifully written.  I couldn't possibly improve on it, so I asked her if I could share it.  She graciously said yes.

Unfortunately, she knows only too well the pain of losing someone she loved to pancreatic cancer.

Another thought....

While chatting with a friend over coffee this morning, I shared with her about my suggestion of writing down things you are grateful for each day.  She said that she is grateful and keeps a running list in her head.  But what she also does, she says, is constantly tell herself negative messages.  As we talked, it dawned on us that what she needs to write down is not a gratitude list, but a list of the good things she has done each day.  Sort of like a mini-pep talk.  I think a lot of women can identify with beating themselves up, saying things like: I'm not good at anything, my hair always looks a mess, I can't cook, I shouldn't have bought that dress, and on and on.

So if you feel you already are tuned in to the good things in your life, maybe you need a daily list to remind yourself of how wonderful you really are.  I used to say in college, "Hey, pat yourself on the back if no one else does."  Maybe it's time to do it again!

A tip for Tuesday...

My daughters will tell you that for years I have preached to them whenever a crisis or problem has arisen about how things could be worse, or that they should be looking for the good that can come out of a situation. They're right - guilty as charged.  In my defense, I have found it a useful tool to try to find some lesson or benefit to come of every situation in life.  Then, at the very least, even the bad times can hold some meaning.  So when I discovered Sarah Ban Breathnach, her book Simple Abundance and the idea of keeping a Gratitude journal, I immediately thought she was on to something.

For a long time I merely kept a list in my head about the good things I encountered on a daily basis.  But when I went back to teaching several years ago, I thought I could adapt the idea to work with Third Graders.  It turned out to be an even more wonderful experience than I had hoped for!

Among the necessary items I asked my new students to bring each September, was a small notebook in which they would write.  On the first day, I instructed them that we would be writing down each morning three things we were glad about.  Then each student in turn would share with the class one of the items they had written.

I also kept a notebook and was the first to share each morning for the first few weeks, until the kids got the hang of it.  Among the things they would share: I'm glad my Grandma is feeling better, I'm glad my team won yesterday, I'm glad Mrs. G is my teacher, I'm glad I have a sister, and on and on.  I would share that I was glad my daughter got back safely to her college, or I was glad my dog was feeling better, or I was glad I had the best class in the school.

One of the most touching things to watch was the way the kids started to pay close attention when their classmates shared and little by little, would start to know them better.  They might realize that someone was worried about a grandparent or someone's Mom was expecting a baby.  Maybe they had been anxious about a test and were glad they got a good grade. Once and a while a child would have a down morning and tell me they had nothing good to share.  I would then get very basic and ask if they had legs and arms that worked, and eyes that could look at the world.  There were days when some of the kids were just so excited to share what they had written.  Some students would beg to share all three items.

As you can imagine, this practice turned out to be a wonderful tool for discussing some profound moments in our recent history - the Oklahoma City bombing, September 11th, and the war in Iraq.  There were numerous days that we all wrote we were glad that we, and the people we loved, were safe.

I have continued the practice, and write in a notebook every night after dinner.  I hope that some of my students carried on the practice, or at the very least kept their notebooks.  It would be interesting to look back at what was important to them in the Third Grade.

So that's my suggestion.  Keep a small notebook or journal and jot down anywhere from 3 to 5 things you are grateful for or "glad about" each day.  You may find as I have that you start to look more carefully around you during the day and find there is an abundance for which to be grateful.

Seasonal sweets

The enticing aroma of apple pie baking in the oven brings back memories of Thanksgiving and Christmas morning.  Those were the two days out of the year in which my mother baked her apple pie.  Which was a shame, really, because it was just plain fabulous! Her pies were extra large in size and bursting with apples.  Try though I might, I simply cannot replicate it.  She's given me her recipe but mine never seems to turn out quite the same.

Meredith Vieira offered her apple pie recipe several years ago and I have "tweaked" it a bit to satisfy my husband and I.  Unlike my mother, I try to make it as often as possible during the Autumn season.  For me it is pure comfort food!  And I like to justify it by telling myself how healthy it must be, eating all those apples. Something about "an apple a day keeps the doctor away...."

In case you are an apple pie novice, here is the combined recipe of my mother Ann, Meredith, and I:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

6-8 apples - Granny Smith and/or Macintosh  (I use Granny Smith - at least 8)
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon cinnamon
dash of nutmeg
1 small tab of butter
pie crust pastry (I use Pillsbury Pie Crust)
pie plate

Peel and slice apples into 8 sections.  Place in large bowl.
Combine sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a small bowl.
Roll out bottom crust on a floured board.  (I put a tiny amount of flour on the bottom of the pie dish)
Place bottom crust on pie dish and fit to size.
Pour cinnamon mix over apples and stir.  Then place seasoned apples on top of the crust.
Dot the apples with small pieces of butter cut up.
Roll out then cover the apples with the top crust.  Turn under the edges and either pinch or press down with the tines of a fork to seal.
Brush a little milk over the crust.  I then make tiny slices and pricks with a fork to allow steam to escape.
Bake for 50 minutes.

Savor the aroma and enjoy!!

A Super Sunday!

Come Autumn, Sundays in the US are generally set aside for NFL football watching.  Daughter #2 is a HUGE Giants fan and a fan of football all around.  My oldest granddaughter doesn't seem to share her mother's love of the game.  In fact, lately, she has been saying, "Ah Mommy, no more football!".  So her Grandad came up with a wonderful idea - why not have a special visit with Grandmom on Sunday afternoons.  And today was our first "special time".

I went down early to the house so I could visit with Baby C first.  Grandad popped in for a quick visit too. After he left, I gathered up some things for M and we set off to walk to Grandmom's house.  I scooped her up as we came in, to avoid the basset hounds knocking her down.  She giggled away telling the boys, "Get down, easy guys, you're ok, buddy".

M has a regular routine when she comes to Grandmom's house - with having certain areas she likes to check on.  First it's the kitchen and the collection of British cars and double decker buses.  We look at the photographs and play with the fridge magnets.  Then on to the living room and the special basket I keep with toys for M by the fireplace.  Next, it's my office - quick plunking of the piano keys, then on to the computer.  But there was an extra special stop planned today - baking!

After donning our aprons, it was time to fetch the step stool and get to work.  I was pleased M let me guide her hands through most of the steps in making brownies and kept her attention focused on the task at hand. While waiting for them to bake, we went and played with Grandmom's train set and doll house.  (I married a Prince - he bought those for me when it came up in conversations over the years I had always wanted them since childhood!)

We came back to the kitchen just as the brownies were done.  Naturally we had to eat some, just to be sure they were good.  We packed up the rest for M's Mommy and Daddy and walked back down to her house.  By the time we got to her driveway, she said, "Grandmom, I'm too tired to go up the steps."  I was happy to deliver her back just in time for a nap, so her Mommy could get a little more rest.

What a joy it is every time I am able to just sit and play with M, totally absorbed in the moment and what she is doing.  There never seemed to be enough of those moments when my girls were small.  I treasure every minute I have with her and Baby C!

and Army wins!!!!!!!

Just finished watching the game - Army won 45-6 over Tulane!!!

Have a great week, West Point Cadets!!

Go Army!!!

Now it may seem strange that I would be rooting for a college football team, since I never followed sports as a child and have raised three daughters whose main pursuits were ballet and gymnastics.  Truthfully, I don't know very much about the game.  But I have my reasons.

My nephew attended and graduated from West Point.  My mother used to make a great fuss over my nephew and his friends when they would stay at her home for weekends during the school year.  I used to ask her why.  Having lived through World War II, she said you had to look after the boys who would be protecting our country.  I used to say to her that in all likelihood, they would have cushy jobs over in Germany while serving out their time after graduation.  As it turned out, my mother was right and I wrong.

My nephew was in his senior year, part of the Bicentennial Class, on September 11, 2001.  The Academy was immediately put into lock-down that day.  The lives of everyone in my family and extended family changed dramatically that day, but that is for a different post.  One thing we knew for sure - the men and women of my nephew's class would be going to war.

We used to watch the football games on tv when my nephew was at the Academy, especially the Army-Navy game.  It's quite a sight to see, row upon row of all the cadets in the stands.  But I continued to watch and follow the games even after he graduated.  It just seemed important.  As I look at the young men on the team and sidelines, I know that it won't be long before many of them will be in a war zone.  So I hope for a win, for the cheers to go up, and for the men and women to feel joy and pride in their academy and fellow cadets.  I'd like to think that a win could carry them through their gruelling week until the next game, with a spring in their march.  I know it's just a game, but for the men and women of all the service academies, perhaps it's a bit more.  A chance for some happy memories before they go off to protect and serve the country they love - and those of us who know and love them.
   
                                                    GO ARMY!!!!!!!  BEAT TULANE!!!!