Posted in Blessings of Habit, Good ol' days, Homemaking, Inspiring, Womanhood

My Grandmother’s Quilts

This is my most visited post, so far. It amazes me that folks come here, most. Enjoy.

I just want to tell you about my grandmother, Laura, this time.

I am a grandmother, and when I was little, I always wanted to be one. When I need inspiration, I remember my grandmother, Laura. Life is so different, now, though.

I know she was elderly because she had arthritic knuckles, gray hair, and a craggy voice. She wore a dress at all times, and she wore shoes with thick, high heels that tied on, sort of like men’s dress wingbacks, perforations and all. Do they even still sell those?

She sewed all her dresses. And sometimes, as a gift, she sewed my mother a dress, too. And she sewed the first dress I ever wore when I was very tiny. I know she made these dresses, because she made a quilt for each of her grandchildren. She did not go to a store for fabric for these quilts. No, she used fabric scraps from sewing dresses. When she made my quilt, she was careful to use many scraps from my mother’s and from my dresses.

I look at the quilt she made for me and I see the dress my mother wore to church in summer. I see a dress my grandmother wore. I see my very first, ever, dress I wore when I was tiny.

I don’t know how my grandmother found the time. She babysat three children, to make an income, because she was widowed when my mother was six. She used her entire, small backyard as a strawberry patch and put up all those berries or traded them for peaches and crabapples to put up. She made her own soap on the wood stove in the woodshed for all washing needs, for clothing, dishes, and bathing. She heated with wood or coal. She did laundry in the woodshed using a wringer washer and hanging it out in summer or in the woodshed in winter, when it froze.

And she prayed. I mean, she really took time out to pray. She would tell us not to bother her while she prayed, she would go to her room and shut the door, and she would pray.

When we visited her, we played with her one box of toys, leftovers from when our aunts and uncles were little. We loved these odd toys that didn’t do anything except prop up our playtime. She let us watch while she made us rolled-out sugar cookies in shapes like stars, hearts, and flowers.  When we asked for colored sugar, she told us it tastes the same. We didn’t believe it.

One wonderful time, I got to sleep with her because I was the oldest and probably would not kick too much. I got to watch her unbraid and comb her hair, which was far beyond waist length. Seeing my grandmother in her gown in the moonlight by the window, combing amazingly long and wavy hair, made her seem to me like an angel. I was in awe.

Then she broke the spell by rebraiding her hair. She never used a rubber band, but simply pulled a strand of hair and wound the end of the braid like a fishing lure. I was filled with questions, then. Why do you braid your hair to sleep? How does it stay in place with no rubber band? I don’t remember her answers, but only my awe and her amusement.

She died about 48 years ago. I still miss her. I still want to be like her when I grow up.

My Grandmother's Quilt
My Grandmother’s Quilt

Here is the quilt she made for me. You can see light red and white tiny checked fabric on the bottom, just right of center. That was my baby dress. It had teensy rickrack on it.

Just right of that is a sort of black and pink Tattersall with pink x’s. That was my mom’s summer Sunday dress for a while. It had white lace at the neckline.

Partly out of view on the left is a white with black swirls. My grandmother wore that. There we all are, in one quilt.

Posted in Home School, Homemaking, Inspiring, Who's the mom here?, Wives, Womanhood

Later

Okay, it’s later now.

Elijah in the wilderness, by Washington Allston
Elijah in the wilderness, by Washington Allston

When I was raising children, my answer to the eternal question about my work phone number — you know, the question that implies you are a check-forger if you do not have a separate work phone number — was: “I am self-employed, so the phone number is the same.” Always got raised eyebrows and curious comments from that. No put-downs for being only a mom.

Nowadays, however, I give my cell number for the work number. Odd the question does not come up so often.

If they asked me, out of curiosity, what I did as a self-employed contributor to the GNP, I often said, “My husband and I manage a home and school for children who would be otherwise homeless.” Boy, did that answer cause awe!

If they asked me more, I just kept on with things like, “Well, the pay is not the greatest, but the perks go beyond money. The satisfaction level is off the charts. Knowing those blessed little ones have a happy place to call ‘home’ just makes my day, especially if they hug me or call me ‘mom’.”

I actually had named our homeschool, ages ago, so when folks asked, I just gave that old name: Cherith Christian SChool and Home. (Yes, we capitalized it wonky, so folks might think to pronounce the first word with a hard “ch”. (Cherith is the brook where Elijah found water and birds brought him food during the time of a huge drought. 1 Kings 17)

Nowadays, when someone asks my profession, I tell them I am a retired educator and textbook writer. No one usually ventures beyond that because most people know not to mess with a teacher.

But if they continue in this line, I tell them I have taught all grades and the textbooks I wrote were for high school level literature. Sometimes I insert, here, my years of magazine writing. That usually stops them. If it goes further, though, I begin discussing the scope and sequence of the literature texts, and of my favorite stories from ancient literature. (Did you know the story of Joseph in Potiphar’s house appears in the ancient Egyptian literature?!)

Or I tell them of some of the difficulties, such as translating haiku into English, which really does not work. (English poems that purport to be haiku are almost always not, actually.)

Or I explain the topics of the magazines I wrote for: child raising, education, etc.

Folks usually become overwhelmed, long before I have finished my speech, or else I end up having a great discussion with someone who actually knows this stuff and cares, which is always fun.

But, heaven help them, if they ask, “Do you work?”

I’m toying with the idea of saying, “No. I’m a big fat zero. The only thing I’ve ever accomplished is turning five illiterate humans into productive members of society.”

Just once, I’d like to see the response to that.

Posted in Home School, Homemaking, Inspiring, Sayings, Who's the mom here?, Womanhood

One Mom’s Description

Ballpoint pen writing. Streaks of ink are visi...

I couldn’t believe my eyes and my mouth hung open while I read this. Then the chuckling began and grew until I was laughing too loudly for the library. This is great!

Found on the Internet:

A woman named Emily, renewing her driver’s license at the County Clerk’s office, encountered a woman recorder demanding to know her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

“What I mean is this,” explained the recorder, “do you have a job, or are you just a . . . “

“Of course I have a job,” snapped Emily. “I’m a mom.”

“We don’t list ‘Mom’ as an occupation. ‘Housewife’ covers it,” said the recorder.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high-sounding title: Town Registrar.

“What is your occupation?” she probed.

What made me say it, I do not know. The words simply popped out. “I’m a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations.”

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words.

Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement appeared in bold, blue ink on the official questionnaire.

“Might I ask,” said the clerk with new interest, “just what you do in your field?”

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself replying, “I manage a continuing program of research, in the laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said ‘indoors and out’.) I’m working on my Master’s, and already have four credits (all daughters.)

“Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) (any dad care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it.) But the job is more challenging than most careers and the rewards are more of a certain satisfaction rather than mere money.”

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk’s voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, my glamorous new career buoying me, three of my lab assistants – ages 13, 7, and 3, approached to greet me. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model (the 6-month-old baby,) in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!

And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable, to many, than “just another mom.”

Motherhood – what a glorious career! And what fun to have a title on the door!

Does this make grandmothers “Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations” and great-grandmothers “Executive Senior Research Associates?

I think so.

I also think it makes aunts “Associate Research Assistants”.

May the wind sing to you and the sun rise in your heart!

Please forward this to anyone you want.

And what about you? Can you make up some clever response for this age-old competition/comparison?

How do YOU answer when they want to know if you work, where, or your work phone number? Later, I will post my usual answer(s).

____________________

photo credit: Wikipedia

Posted in Homemaking, Photos, Who's the mom here?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Wrong

Again.

I am so accustomed to being wrong. People tell me I am wrong all the time.

They say I pronounce words wrong, and I shrug.

I am a linguist . . .

They say I load my dishwasher wrong.

I offer them the job . . .

But in the kitchen, I am usually right. I love to cook from scratch and invent recipes. I love to eat and watch others loving eating. Since all my kids are spoiled with extraordinary food, they all have learned how to cook, at least the basics of my secrets, and have begged for my recipes, freely given, before they would move out — even all four of my sons.

So-o-o-o, when I get it wrong in the kitchen, I am miffed at myself. No excuse. You know how to do this and you just didn’t do it.

That’s how I talk.

How ironic that since I believe in no excuses in the kitchen, today the photo challenge should be “wrong”. Sighs.

Today I burned a whole pan of rolled sugar cookies. These are the fiddly ones you bake only when the grandkids are present, but I volunteered to donate these for a charity function, so had a nonchalance that proved expensive:

wrong again
 

What can I say?

I could make excuses about an important phone conversation,

but I know to take the timer with me on such occasions.

But I didn’t.

Posted in Blessings of Habit, Home School, Homemaking, Inspiring

No Such Thing as a Single Income Family!

saving and spending

Someone’s gotta stay home with the kids if we homeschool. Right?

Right.

We may quibble about which parent must stay, but no doubt one simply must.

Lots of people think keeping a parent at home precludes being a two income family, but it does not. The act of staying home saves so much, we  sometimes wonder how those who work outside make any money at all.

Let’s look at how it adds up:

  1. Clothing. Stay-home clothes bought on sale cost far less than suits or uniforms bought under duress. The same is true for shoes, bags, coats, etc.
  2. Transportation. If only one parent is going out to work, only one car is necessary. Same for gas.
  3. Work. Someone has to do it. Either you clean the house or someone else gets about $1000 per year to do it. You can do your own laundry, yard work, repairs, etc., and save the prices of hiring them done. Or the price of a counselor trying to fix your brain after you try to do it all yourself . . .
  4. Cooking. A rib-eye steak costs about $5 on sale at the grocery, about $18 at a restaurant. Spaghetti dinner for 6 costs the same at home as for 1 at a restaurant. Maybe less. A homemade birthday cake costs about $7, compared to $20 from the store, and you know which tastes better! Hearty, homemade bread costs half or less of insipid store-bought. However, if you make these yummy foods to sell, you get the store price!
  5. Shopping. What? Isn’t shopping how we lose money? No, that’s random spending. Shopping is comparing prices, waiting for sales, and squeezing all the value you can from every penny. It is sticking to your list, buying in bulk, and always being ready for the surprise bargain for someone’s gift for the future. It is what you don’t have time for if you’re on your way home from the office.
  6. Sewing. While it is true, fabric prices have gone up, it is also true you can make new, lovely curtains with hardly any sewing instructions, covering that window in sale fabric for about $25 instead of $125. With only a bit more knowledge, you could make yourself a skirt or cape. Learn a tiny bit more and make simple dresses for your girls. All with the same savings rate. But if you sell, it . . .
  7. Gardening. A pint of home-canned green beans costs about ten cents for the lid and bit more for energy to run the stove. There is an initial investment, but you can re-coup the cost once you’ve canned for a year or two. And store-bought vegetables are nearly $1 per can.
  8. Crafts. A bit of yarn, a drop of glue, how surprising the fun and savings in making gifts! And the savings is phenomenal. You could develop a reputation for a certain type of gift and become known as “the afghan lady” or the “soap lady”, turning it into a business. Astronomical savings in greeting cards, alone!
  9. Last, but not least, Child Care. It’s about $18 per day per child. That does not factor in the cost of medical care for all the diseases they will pick up.

This list could go on forever, but you get the idea. If, when you are at home, you actually WORK, you are a working mom, and your rewards are good.

Posted in Believe it or not!, Blessings of Habit, Home School, Homemaking, Inspiring

What Is it Like to Homeschool? – part 2

Example of unschooling (home-based, interesed-...
These children are trying to dig out insects from tree bark.

Sneaky changes you WON’T know about!

You will hardly realize your mind is clearing and new direction is sneaking into your lives, but others will notice.

Homemaking

As you welcome the idea of being a maker of a real home for your family, you will realize that washing dishes is not such a horrible chore, after all. You may remind yourself of a powdered cleanser commercial as you clean the bathtub, but you will like it.

Gentler rewards.

The exercise will give a glow to your cheeks, too. In fact, with new work going on, you may actually begin needing small breaks. What’s more, you will find quiet for enjoying your reading during these breaks, and in your favorite comfy chair instead of a sterile “break room”.

Simplicity

As you discover the truer beauty of new, simpler recreations, you will realize it is a good thing, because your costs will shrink, too. You will become quite satisfied with less.

The children

The best change, though, will come over your children. Your heart will sing as your see competitiveness and the resulting nervousness falling off your children.

As you discover their true personalities, you will delight in re-making their acquaintances. As they discover the real you, in return, they will cooperate with you more. You will hardly believe your eyes as you watch your children simply being a family, together. No amount of running around would give this joy, and as there is less running around, there will be much more time for family.

More time

As this newfound time applies to all of life, the educational level and possibilities for your children will greatly increase. It will not be all book learning, either, as you give life to their understanding of the joys of industry and simplicity.

Last, you will find yourself face to face with a new self. It will be great. Old priorities will go out the window and new ones will jump in the front door just as fast. Your amazement at yourself will know no bounds, at first. Things you once shrugged off will take on great proportions and things that once bothered you greatly will seem insignificant.

For instance, instead of fixating on finding the best school supplies for your child, you may discover packing school supplies for Somalian orphans seems somehow more important.

You may acquire a new hobby of crochet or gardening or baking. You could sell your product or teach classes. You could bring joy to those around you.

Most importantly, though, you will never again wonder if you should home school your children. You will finally know. The knowing will bring such peace in knowing you are finally giving your children the best you can, finally doing what you were made to do.

Finally home.

Posted in Blessings of Habit, Homemaking, Recipes

You Can’t Fax a Fig

Ficus carica

We have all sorts of electronic substitutes these days. We push a button and things happen, things appear. We can bank on-line. We can borrow a book through the Kindle service. We can send an e-mail.

But it’s not real money, not a real book, and not a real letter. We’ve trained ourselves to accept the electronic substitute and taught ourselves to believe it costs us less, although usually it does not. Not if we think about all the real costs.

Anyway, I’ve been picking figs, lately, and the only, ONLY, ONLY way to get a fig that is still warm from hanging in the sunshine is to get up out of a chair, go outdoors, walk over to the tree, reach up, grab ahold, and pull a fig off the branch.

And it is worth all that incredible effort. A warm, ripe fig is a soft and squishy confection, what some might call “deliciously juicy”. Softer than a banana, sweeter than a strawberry, not sticky like caramel, yet reminiscent of all three, a fig can only truly be compared to another fig.

Oh yes — worth it.

And the people who like a fig enough to plant the tree, or to get off that chair and go on out there, or to cut the stems off the fruit and get out some canning jars, or to stir some canned fig into a cake batter — they’re worth it, too.

These are the kitchen people. The real butter people. The whole wheat flour, olive oil, honey, and home-grown eggs people. If offered store-bought, um, we really don’t mind fasting that much.

Got figs? Get these recipes!

MYO Fig Bars

2 c. chopped figs, stems removed
3/4 c. water
1/4 c. honey
2 tbsp. whole wheat flour
Boil until clear. Cool.
Dough:
1/2 c. butter
2 small eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 c. honey
1/2 tsp. soda
2 1/2 c. whole wheat flour
Cream butter and honey. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat until fluffy. Add flour and soda (sifted together).

Press half of dough into 9×13 pan. Spread fig filling evenly over dough. Roll remaining dough on wax paper and flip onto top of filling. Press gently. Mark bars by cutting through top, slightly. Bake at 375 degrees until lightly browned. Cool. Cut bars. Better than you-know-what.

Fig Bread

3 eggs
2 1/2 c. sugar
2 c. mashed, ripe figs
3/4 c. very fine olive oil
3 c. flour
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 c. buttermilk
1 c. chopped pecans
Beat sugar into eggs. Add figs and oil. Sift together dry ingredients.  Add to figs, alternately, with buttermilk. Beat well. Fold in pecans. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour in greased and floured loaf pans. Yields 3 loaves.

Have fun!