Big fat noodles

I made fried rice the other day and I was asked how I learned to make it.  I didn’t know – I suppose my mother-in-law made it and I followed suit.  Another meal I make from her is homemade chicken noodle soup with homemade noodles.  Today I delighted Devin with a huge pot.  It is interesting to track how our meals are handed down from generation to generation.   I like making the soup but making the noodles is so time consuming and when I am done and I want to park myself in a chair and chill.  Some eat the soup  with a fork and some with a spoon.   Some really like the juice and others just like noodles and chicken.  I make my noodles from a recipe in my old Betty Crocker cookbook, by the looks of the page and the book I am one old old lady who had better pass on the chicken/noodle soup to my girls quick!!

The Burn

What is it about burning?  Today Rhea and got a fire going and burned old scrap wood.  We got out the camp chairs and sat there for a few hours watching the fire.  We took turns throwing the next batch of wood on once the pile burned down.  It was more than therapeutic, it was calming and soothing.  The sun was beating down on us and with the fire heat it was warm.  We kept scooting our chairs back so we could stay in the shade.  Then behind us on the next lot were Mike and Devin working on that land.  We aren’t professing to be Charles Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie but we sure had a great day pretending to be.

Blogs Up!

Two words is all I need.  It kind of gives me a rush.  There is so much to be said for blogs and instagram.  Blogs give me insight into the lives of my children and grandchildren.  Blogs give me a flavor of how their lives are.  Blogs mean we are journaling.  Pictures tell a story too and video of actual events make me feel as if I am there.  Britta shared swimming lessons with the boys on my phone. I watched the jumping in the pool over and over.     It was so great.  Brooke has us hooked up on a grandkids photo site and Mike really enjoys seeing a new picture pop up daily. Hatcher’s life is well documented with beautiful pictures.   Kyla blogged (redheadlovin.weebly.com) about tonight’s Farmer’s Market and I was able to read and see about her progress.  Gosh I love that Farmer’s Market.  Micah is using her photography and writing talents in her new blog. (micahdahlhouse.weebly.com) and I get to see little Hinckley’s daily excursions.  Rhea lets me know when my blog isn’t done because she gets automatic notices.   Thanks for reading them, Rhea.  Hats off to all the girls for getting it all down, whichever venue is used.    Oh yeah, blog’s up!!

What really counts!

There is a house and there is a home.   This evening I was in the Wilde’s home.  it is so dear to our hearts and we have such fond memories of that home.  We had baby showers there, we had bridal showers there, we visit taught and hung out there. Many groups of girls have visited to see Claudia’s doll house.  I used to help out and clean their house.   My boys love that home.  They would meet there about scouting stuff and talk to Bishop Wilde about the war.  They would go there, sometimes in the middle of the night, to pick him up off the floor when he fell.  They have a beautiful house but it isn’t the beauty that makes it so welcoming – it is the memories and the feelings felt while there.  It is sad for my children to see it up for sale, it is sad for the Wilde grandchildren to have it gone from the family.  We are going to miss the house but what we experienced there – that it what really counts.

Hawky

The Prism was bought from Monty and Jo Cassidy with only about 30,000 miles on it.  It was in immaculate condition.  Today, Hawky expired.  It paid its dues, it did its job, it surrended its life on our behalf.  It was a disaster, beckoning the crusher to end it all quickly.  Although agonizing for some of the boys to see its execution, the timing was much overdue.  The grass beneath its body was flat and dead.  The only life left in it was the license plate, “Hawky”.  Ramona Branholm called me to tell me that personalized plate was available many years ago and I took it right away.  The tow guy asked me if I wanted the plate.  I thought for a moment and realized that seemed quite harsh, it needed some dignity for the slow drive to hell.  It was a good old car.  There were trips to Seminary, church, school and the automatic pilot to the hockey rink.  Goodbye old friend.  You have served us well.

That was weird

I think we have all heard the saying, “It is in the bag.”   I looked up the meanings and this is what I found.  The first is cinched; achieved.  The second is virtually secured.  Tonight we had a visual demonstration of its true meaning.  Devin, Brooke and I were in the living room when we heard a bird hit the window.  That was weird.  Ten minutes later Brooke got a phone call and when she walked down the stairs there was a little bird on the landing.  That was weird.  Devin went downstairs to get the bird out, opened the door and the bird flew upstairs, through the laundry room and hit the pantry window.  That was weird.  It dropped into the opened bag that the bottled waters are packed in.  There you have it.  It is in the bag.  It hit on both meanings.  That bird must have wanted in that water bag; achieved.  The bird was virtually secured.  Devin took the water bag on the deck and left the stunned bird there for awhile.  Then he was gone.  That was weird.

The bird is in the bag.  

Raisins and Frosting

I love making cinnamon rolls and I believe I have achieved a high ranking among my family members.  Devin says only Grandma Lincoln does a better job than me and that is ok.  Grandma Lincoln  (the Morlock boys grandma) used to make the hockey players cinnamon rolls when they went to Glenallen for hockey games. Hands down she is the queen of the roll.   The main consensus is that raisins go in my rolls and the majority rules that they are frosted as well.  Tonight was cinnamon roll night.  I have been falling asleep in the chair waiting for them to rise because I started them late but I know that Mike is sleeping with cinnamon roll fairies dancing in his head.  He is looking forward to his breakfast.   I don’t profess them to be “the best” but I do relish the proud moment when I am asked, “please Mom, will you make YOUR cinnamon rolls?”

Tatting

There are things that have great meaning to me.  A set of pillow cases were given to me that were tatted by Asenath Walser.   There are not many women who tat anymore.  She was my grandmother who passed away in  1990.   I am so honored to have them.  She was asked to tat one of the alter clothes in the temple but her hands were too bad to do it.  I finished quilting a baby quilt for Hinckley that Micah had pieced together.  As I got near the end I could feel the arthritis in my hands and they were stiff and swollen.  Although difficult to finish, I thought of Grandma Walser and her talent and her example.  She was a hard-working woman and her hands showed it.  Her example was my beacon and she unknowingly mentored me until I was done.  Her legacy will not be forgotten.  I cherish my visits with her and will always treasure this material that her loving hands held.

Alaska and Me

John Denver wrote a song called Alaska and Me.  A few years ago we found out that we knew the person that he based a line of his song on. “I was born in a cabin on the little Mulchatna, raised in hard times but I had a good life.  From the first time I flew with my father a singing, I knew that I’d wind up a bush pilot’s wife.”  John Denver had a love for this beautiful state.  We flew home Friday night – it was summer solstice.  It was a thunderous night and the plane ride was bumpy coming over the water during approach.  My picture is evidence of the beautiful light that presented itself in the sky just before we landed.    We were welcomed home, of course.  “Here’s to Alaska, here’s to the people, Here’s to the wild, here is to the free, Here’s to my life in a chosen country, Here’s to Alaska and me.”  Thank you John Denver for sharing my thoughts in a song and thank you Alaska for a daylight picture at four am.   Love it.

Top Five

We are sitting here in the Seattle Airport and I have quickly come up with five reasons I need to quickly get home to Alaska (family is first of course)

1.  my bed with my memory foam pad

2.  Suki

3.  cool, sea level air

4.  my car, Little MC

5  I don’t have to watch Miss Flexibility do her moves in front of me

Alaska Airlines Flight 147  Departs 10:35 pm Gate N14