THANKS GIVING 2008

I hope you have a pleasant Thanksgiving. Making a list of what I am thankful for would take days. I'll just pick one something to expound upon: grapenuts in a box.

In my "experimental" days, I made soap, not out of necessity, out of novelty. Squatting on the ground, stirring an enamel dishpan of lye soap with a leg bone, I felt very pioneerish/Indianish. Bring on the drums.

Corncob jelly was another venture. The recipe: start with clean corncobs. Did they think I'd use any other kind? Where were they getting theirs? Boil them down and add sugar. It was clear, red and tasteless. I filled two half-pint jars and set them on the shelf for decoration. No one ever asked for a taste.

In 1898 Charles Post developed a natural cereal he called grapenuts. I love them. When I came across a recipe, I had to make some. Graham flour mixed with brown sugar, buttermilk, salt and soda was spread on a cookie sheet and baked at 375 degrees for 15 minutes, then cooled. I mounted the meat grinder on the picnic table--it was a nice day. I couldn't bend or break up the baked grapenuts. I found a mallet in the garage, wrapped a tea towel around it and whacked away. Sharp-edged pieces flew. The stubborn remainders made my hands sore trying to keep them in the grinder. My effort netted about half a cup. Disgusted, I nibbled a few and ditched the rest. And that, my friends, is why I am thankful for grapenuts in a box.

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series

ONE Noodle Soup

My grandmother, Mae, half my namesake, made noodles. I watched her roll the dough on a floured tea towel. With great care she cut narrow strips with her paring knife while Parkinson's messed with her coordination. I helped lay the uneven strips across the top rung of the back of the chairs to dry, or not, depending on the humidity. In a day or two they graced a chicken soup.

In my well-worn recipe box I found a recipe for Animal Noodles from Parents Magazine Dec. '69: 1 egg beaten, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 2 Tablespoons cream, 1 cup flour. Mix. Roll. Cut. My problem is my cookie cutter. It is a ghost large enough to put both hands through -- no pun intended. I would have to find a soup tureen to cook it in and make at least 20 cups of soup. I would need help: company. Do you want to come for ghost soup?

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series

Krysia Takes the Big Trip

Before I was married, or even thinking about it, I read about a Polish Dr. whose daughter's name was Krysia. I saved the name and gave it to my first-born 4-6-64. We pronounced it Kris-e-ah. Years later she said it is pronounced Krish-a, Kris for short. Mom was the last to know.

Preparing her memory board, we found her "First Class Scouting Award" -- give her a list and she accomplished mountains of work. Ballet, flute and Rock to Bach were favorites. She appreciated and defended animals. An avid reader she donated many of her books to the local library. In appreciation they gave her a gift certificate to Barnes & Noble. That's looking ahead. She loved instruction manuals, the "keys to the kingdom." A graduate of Wesleyan University with a BS in Business & Psychology, she worked in the family small business consulting firm.

When diagnosed with cancer in Aug. of 06, she did not buy the prediction she would live three weeks. She prepared to live, not die. Live she did, and defy further doomsday predictions of not making it to Christmas '06 or '07. She asked her Dr., "What have you got against Christmas?"

I brought her home as an invalid in Sep. 06. With the prayers of many and 24/7 care, she improved to feed herself, get out of bed, walk, climb stairs, shower, do her makeup, laundry, drive, and walk 15" on the elliptical at PT. You can see she was not a quitter. She told her Dr., "Until my relatives come and tell me it is time to go, I fight." They came Sep. 27, 2008. Timothy 4: 7 sums up her life: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Her fighting spirit and sense of humor in the face of severe adversity were great achievements.

Kysia's dream to live and work in New Mexico was unfulfilled. She traveled from this dimension to the next to continue her healing and her journey, a trip we all will take sick or well. Comedian Red Fox said, "Those health nuts are going to feel mighty silly lying there dying of nothing."

I know death is an illusion. Her life goes on uninterrupted. She has a new body in Christ. But the tears still come, and without warning. The good news is: love connects hearts forever.

Praise and criticism came my way for giving my all and my everything to care for her -- I would have given my last breath. I loved her unconditionally, with abandon, as God loves me and everyone else: the good, the bad, the indifferent.

This is not goodbye, Krysia, I'll see you later. Love, Mom

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series