The Walking Fiddle

I’m not sure if I should really be releasing this recipe to the world. Is it a treasured family secret? Well, it’s certainly a treasured family recipe.  There was always a fresh-baked plate of these cookies waiting whenever grandchildren came to visit my Oma. Or if they weren’t on the counter, the plate would be hidden in her china cabinet, ready for unveiling after dinner.  In the spirit of the holidays, I shall unleash these delights upon the world. I have to confess, I often add chocolate chips to the recipe.  Chopped nuts and sunflower seeds are also very tasty additions.  I almost always use whole wheat flour, which makes them denser and chewier, if you like that. If not, they are quite fluffy. I have also made a vegan version of these by using vegetable oil and almond milk as substitutions. Using a mashed banana in place of some of the fat is mighty tasty too.

Oma’s Delectable Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

1 c flour

1 t baking soda

1/2 t salt

1/2 t cinnamon

1/2 t nutmeg

3/4 c shortening or butter

2 eggs

1 t vanilla

3/4 c brown sugar, packed

1/2 c white sugar

1/3 c milk

3 c oatmeal

1 c raisins

Sift dry ingredients and set aside. Cream together shortening (or butter) and sugars, add eggs and vanilla. Add flour mixture and half the milk, blend, then add remaining milk and blend. Add oatmeal and raisins, mix well, and then drop by teaspoons onto a greased cookie sheet (which will yield 6 dozen small cookies. If you drop by tablespoons for big cookies, you get about 24). Bake at 375 for 12-15 minutes. Tip: if you like them soft, take them out around 10 minutes and let them cool a bit before removing from the sheet.

These are not my popovers:

I wish they were. I mean, look at the how the light tenderly caresses the airpockets in the dough. No, these are apparently the popovers they serve at Jordan Pond House Restaurant at Acadia National Park for tea. With plenty of strawberry preserves and fresh whipped butter. Am I in the car, ready to drive 14 hours, or what?

But my popovers look just as good, in my opinion, as long as they don’t randomly decide to glue themselves to the pan and refuse to come out. Which is what happened when I made them earlier this week for a brunch I went to. Almost all of the popovers lost their bottoms in the muffin tin. That’s right, you *don’t* need a special popover pan, you can make them in a muffin tin! And normally, they behave themselves quite nicely and just fall out of the tin when you tip it over onto a cooling rack. Except when they don’t and you have to pry them out with something you’d normally use to burglarize a car.

Anyway, these are delightfully simple to make. You can throw in some cheese and herbs if you like.  Fresh chopped rosemary, thyme, and just-grated parmesan. A very nice accompaniment to a bowl of soup, or with a cup of afternoon tea and strawberry preserves and whipped butter…. oh wait, we’ve already been over that.  I credit the America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook for this recipe (probably the most-used cookbook in my house).  Just another note or two- I replace the white flour with whole wheat and they are still light and tender and fluffy. Also, I didn’t let the batter sit for 30 minutes. Who thinks ahead like that? I need these things for dinner NOW!

Popovers- makes six using a popover pan or 10 using a muffin tin.

2 large eggs

1 c milk

1 c flour

1 T unsalted butter, melted

1/2 t salt

1 T vegetable oil

1. Blend the eggs and milk in a blender until smooth. Add the flour, melted butter, and salt, and continue to blend on high speed until the batter is bubble and smooth, about 1 minute. Let the batter rest at room temperature for 30 minutes (ha!).

2. While the batter is resting, measure 1/2 t vegetable oil into each cup of the popover/muffin pan. Adjust the oven rack to the lowest position, place the pan in the oven, and heat the oven to 450 degrees.

3.  After the batter has rested (or not), quickly remove the hot pan from the oven. Pour the batter evenly among the cups and return the pan to the oven. Bake without opening the oven door for 20 minutes. No peeking.

4. Lower the heat to 350 degrees and bake until golden brown all over, 10-20 minutes. Gently flip them onto a cooling rack or dish towel and let them cool.

Just look at my two offspring. I can’t help it, I think they are the two awesomest kids on the planet. Fun, smart, always ready for hugs and kisses. I love being their mom! And I am so thankful for the incredible privilege of being able to stay home with them and not go off to work. Not to mention that I am thankful that my husband is fully willing to do all the bread-winning so I can be here with them.

But you parents know this is one tough job! So rewarding, but some days can be so discouraging. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in your “personal” life (I guess it’s all personal now!), this isn’t a job you can zone out on. Or I guess you can, but we all know what kind of kids zoned-out parents have and I really don’t want to go there. So, whatever it is, you’ve got to put it on the backburner and be raring to go when those little balls of energy shoot out of their beds in the morning.

A few months ago I read a little book I picked up called “When You Feel Like Screaming: Help for Frustrated Mothers” by Pat Holt and Grace Ketterman. It just so happens that around the time I picked it up I felt like I’d been losing my temper a LOT with the kids.  I hate it when I do that.  We’ve been through a lot this year and it was taking its toll in my parenting. I’m sure you can relate: some major personal crises is going on, not one you can share with your darling children, and you are just trying to muddle through and stand on your feet. Then someone starts demanding a glass of milk over and over and over while you are trying to fix something that takes a lot of concentration and the other child comes running in saying  ”Come right away I need you Mom!!!!” and suddenly you’ve reached your emotional boiling point and everyone around you gets splattered.

As I read this book I started taking notes on the things that I felt I could apply to my situation.  However, I tend to read books, glean the good stuff, and then quickly forget it. I didn’t want to forget this stuff! It was good! I knew it could help me. That’s when I got the idea for Mommy Flashcards.  I took some of the key concepts and wrote them down on notecards. Then I decided to brainstorm a list of my other major parenting goals. The kind of mom I want to be; the sort of household I want to raise my family in. I wrote those down too.

I don’t sit and review my cards every day, though I did in the beginning. I keep them on my bedside table and if they catch my eye in the morning I’ll pick them up and read a few. And you know what? It really helps! I feel encouragement flowing into my soul as I read them, and motivation to shape the day according to my goals… as opposed to just letting the day happen to me.

So, as many of you have asked to see the contents of my Mommy Flashcards since I let the cat out of the bag on Facebook, I will share my list with you here. I encourage you to write your own! Some of these are obviously very family specific… if you have questions, leave a comment, and I will go into more detail.

• I set the tone of the house. Pray for a joyful attitude and cheerfulness to be my “default.”
• Expect quick obedience, but remember often to give the kids a “in one minute I want you to…” option so they can disengage from their current activity.
• Be a parent who apologizes for yelling and sharp words. Step back and express frustration to the kids in calm words. Recognize emotional boiling point approaching and taken action to gain self-control.
• Plan some structured activities the kids can do to keep them occupied at difficult times instead of just always plopping them down with a video. Don’t forget room play (sending them to their rooms for a while for independent play).
• Think of fun, enjoyable outings and expeditions. Break up the routine!
• Think of ways each day for them to help around the house. Work as a team with them. Take time to teach. Things don’t need to be perfect.
• Be the master of the day, not the victim. Think about what difficult situations are coming up. Explain what behavior you expect of them, and outline positive and negative consequences.
• Outside appearance is not what really matters. Don’t try to slap on/drill good behaviors without having their hearts first. Extend oodles of grace. Accept them and love them for who they are.
• Plan ahead of time, such as the night before, to avoid rushed mornings and quick tempers. And remember that being late isn’t the end of the world.
• Be calm and collected. Don’t react quickly- put them in time out if necessary while you stop to think about appropriate consequences.
• Don’t make a big deal out of childish mistakes. Laugh more than scold (remember when Elijah opened a bag of powdered sugar and it puffed all over him).
• Recognize kindness, generosity, good effort, cheerfulness. Thank God for the good gifts He’s given the kids.
• They CAN learn to obey right away, the first time!
• E CAN learn to control himself and not tease B. Take tickets ruthlessly. They CAN learn not to interrupt.
• Be a good listener, listen to the kids intently, ask them questions.
• Enjoy and relish the kids.
• Say “yes” to them whenever possible.
• Be silly.
• Stop and read them a book.
• Encourage them to go along with other kids’ ideas, not always be the boss/in charge.
• Enjoy the blessing of an amazing, faithful husband and amazing kids! Praise the Lord often.

Today I packed myself some cold spaghetti, apple, twix bar and thermos of hot mint tea with honey and headed into the woods. There’s a place north of the city that I like to call my own personal wild land, though of course it belongs to all law-abiding tax payers. It’s a place of woods and meadows I like to escape to for an hour or two when Marc is home with the kids. I crunch up the gravel road past the barns and through a meadow, then turn into a path tunneling through trees- it always reminds me of the path which Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin tumble down onto from the cornfield and then have to hide from the Black Rider. I have never met any evil creatures there, though today a herd of deer crossed the path and solemnly looked at me and flicked their ears.

The path winds along the side of a hill and comes out from the trees, and you can look out over meadows down into the little river valley though which runs the Minebank. And then into the woods. They are tall- tulip poplars, maples, and beech. Mostly leaves are only left on the beech trees- if you don’t know what a beech tree is, they are the trees that most look like a wood-nymph might by associated with them. Tall, slender, silvery-gray smooth bark, the tree that generally people feel driven to write their initials on because the bark makes such a nice writing surface. Their leaves stay on the longest, often all through the winter. They are various shades of brilliant gold, fading to a papery cream if they stay on the tree, providing cover in the winter for hopping chickadees.

Coming into the woods on the side of hill- at the bottom of which runs a tiny stream feeding the Minebank- I am looking right into the depths of the trees. The ground is covered with golden leaves crunching and crisping underfoot. Little creatures scratch in the leaves in the thickets. I cross the small stream on a wooden bridge. I am tempted to stop and eat my lunch here, where I can listen to the water trickling over the rocks, but I want to go deeper in. I stop and look up. A cold, clean wind blows through the forest and faintly roars in the trees. The leaves far overhead still clinging to the tulip poplars seem to sparkle against the blue sky and flutter down. Two vultures soar high, high over them. I find a log and decide to stop here. As I eat my spaghetti, I notice that the woods are full of bird activity. Something is up. Bluejays calling loudly back and forth to each other, and crows. Is there an owl? Four or five bluejays land among the golden beech branches nearby and I watch them hopping and screeching. Chickadees and tufted titmice hop and chirp (I was just playing the call of a tufted titmouse on the computer and both children sat up and started looking around and out the windows for where the sound could be coming from).

After finishing my lunch and bird-observation over a cup of tea, I walk up a hill deeper into the forest. The leaves are piled so deeply on the path that it is slippery. But then I must turn around and retrace my steps back to the car. It’s over too quickly. Perhaps I will come back soon with just Elijah and we will quietly walk through the woods and look for birds together. But now I am driving over curved road back down into the city and thinking of baking muffins for tea with the children this afternoon.

I’ll bet you didn’t know that Lothlorien (the forest of Lady Galadriel in Lord of the Rings) was actually located quite near Baltimore. It looks like it, doesn’t it? This is actually the forest of Oregon Ridge State Park. Almost as good.

Here’s another. Lothlorien can also be found southwest of Omaha, Nebraska.

I’m excessively fond of forests. Deep mystical places from the dawn of time.

Paths wandering through them.

And yes, Lothlorien is also to be found high in the western mountains of Maryland.

Green light filtering through the leaves and the rushing of a wild water in its midst.

Being hidden in the dense green. The smell of the earth and wet leaves. Newts and slugs under logs. The sound of a wood thrush in the summer (listen here).

But lately I have been wandering more in Mirkwood than Lothlorien. “As their eyes became used to the dimness they could see a little way to either side in a sort of darkened green glimmer. Occasionally a slender beam of sun that had the luck to slip in through some opening in the leaves far above, and still more luck in not being caught in the tangled boughs and matted twigs beneath, stabbed down thin and bright before them.” 

If it weren’t for the slender beam of sun- or the sudden appearance of a sunny glade to linger in awhile, I would not survive the wandering. I have been longing to at last reach the edge of the wood and see the endless prairie of tall waving grasses and wildflowers and buckets of sunlight to soak in.

Then, strangely enough, a friend posted this as her status on Facebook today. I hope she won’t mind if I quote her here: “It’s the sweetest thing to walk through darkness and pain, your hand in mine reminding me to trust you, and come out on the other side to fields of wildflowers and tall green grass, to sunshine, and to the fragrance of all creation enveloping us. Let’s run!”

When I read it, a blaze went through my heart. And I suddenly realized that this image of Mirkwood, so tangible in my mind, was missing an essential piece- there is someone holding my hand. I am not walking a lone. Of course! Why on earth wasn’t He in my thought? He is now. I suddenly feel that I have crossed a tangible line into a different place. He is so good at leading me.

(This one is not my photo. Credit: http://www.lepetitherboriste.net/photos/prairie1.html)

My mother requested this recipe, and since it was so delicious, I thought I would just post it here. You can use it in traditional pesto ways, or, I spread it over cod fillets and baked them last night- very good.

Cashew-Sunflower Seed Pesto
2 cups fresh basil leaves
1 cup cashews
1/2 c sunflower seeds
2 cloves garlic
1/2 olive oil
salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

Put all ingredients except the oil in a blender or food processor. Turn it on and drizzle the oil in as it is blending. If it still seems very solid, add some water to thin things out, or some more olive oil.

Marc and I went to Barnes and Noble this evening after our dinner out to poke around. We were over in the “Christian Inspiration” section with the idea of maybe finding a book we could read together or something for our mutual edification.

Now, if you read my last post, you’ll know that my life hasn’t been all tea and pastry cakes lately. I’d say the last three years in particular have been pretty dang hard. In some ways, I just feel like I’m a broken mess curling up in my Savior’s lap- there’s nothing else I can do.

If you’ve been in a place like this you might be able to relate to what I felt when glancing over the “inspirational” section. I mainly felt inspired to throw up. Coiffed, made-up faces smiling out of glossy book covers, promising that I can “increase God’s favor” and “effortlessly live the victorious life.” Oh really? That’s very interesting. I just wonder sometimes if we’re reading the same Bible. I don’t know. I haven’t picked up these books and read and personally analyzed them. But in the place where I am at now, all this sounds like utter nonsense.

There is one secret to happiness that I’d really like to learn, though. And I’m pretty sure if I could just get it, I’d be way happier than any of those people with 6 pounds of makeup and poofed hair purport to be:

“I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”

Those are the words of the apostle Paul, my friends, in Philippians 4:12. Words I’d really like to live by. They sound much truer and sustaining to me than the tag lines on those books at Barnes and Noble. Just reading them expands that little place inside me that holds on to goodness, truth, comfort and hope.

A number of things have happened to me in the past year that I’ve had serious questions for God about. Things I haven’t liked and that to me, felt patently unjust. The sort of “how would Someone who loves me treat me like this” questions. They don’t shake my faith because I trust and believe in God’s goodness and love for me. But it doesn’t change the fact that things happen I don’t like and I don’t understand.

Today I got a new glimpse into a very well-known Bible story as I was reading it to Brynn in her children’s Bible. Mary. The birth of Jesus. She knew she was carrying God’s Son. She was in labor in strange city. She probably trusted in God to provide a place for her to give birth- she knew He cared about her and her baby very much. But I wonder how it felt to knock on door after door and have them continually closed in their faces with the words “sorry, no room?” Did she start to get scared? Start to cry out “what’s going on, God? Aren’t you going to provide a place for me to give birth?” and then, at the last minute, someone has a barn available. “A barn? I’m going to give birth in a BARN?” I can’t speak for Mary, but I know that’s probably how I would be feeling. Asking God questions like “is this your idea of providing for me??!” Hmm. I think it’s a good thing I wasn’t the chosen virgin.

It reminds me that I really *don’t* understand God’s ways. I really want to come to a place of deeper understanding and trust that the ways He arranges things may not be suitable from a human-sided point of view, but they are much better than what we could come up with. I have enough history with Him to know that He brings amazing good out of hard, difficult and evil things. I’ve seen it and experienced it first-hand. Romans 8:28 is constantly played-out in my life: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

So I guess I could say I’ve given birth in a lot of barns this year. Yep. And I’m getting glimpses of the “why’s,” but sometimes it’s still hard and the questions come rushing back. There’s a picture into my mind and spirit today. Thanks for tuning in.

This post is for all you fellow moms out there who have a hard time coming up with healthy tasty meals that picky toddlers and older kiddos will eat.  I always find pictures of food more inspiring than looking at printed recipes, so I thought I would post some pictures of “lunch plates,” as we call them. I am always looking for new ideas of yummy little tidbits to include. The kids don’t always eat everything on them, but they eat most of it. It’s kind of like Western-style bento boxing.  I enjoy putting the colors together and making it look pretty.

I’ve caught Marc’s cold. I’m not sure but it might have had something to do with accidentally using his toothbrush.  Really, dentists should have a “his” and “hers” basket. We did pick different colors but I think something a little more dramatic is needed.  If I had a toothbrush shaped like a dragon, for example, and his was a beetle. It would be hard to mix them up. I would remember not to brush my teeth with the beetle.  Anyway, here I am, sneezing and sniffing and having a cup of tea with honey. Maybe Brynn’s getting it too- she’s taking an ultra-long nap after a tantrum you could have heard down at Zeke’s Coffee. She knows how to scream and kick with the best of them, that’s for sure.

I never imagined I would have a mega-tantrum-thrower. As a mom who started reading parenting books before I even had kids, I think I started off with somewhat of a superior attitude. Oh you know, mentally criticizing that mom whose child is tearing apart the doctor’s waiting room or lying on floor of the grocery store screaming. I thought I knew all the training tricks so that I’d have those terrible two’s licked by 18 months. And I am a strict mom who doesn’t let bad behavior go without memorable consequences. But does it mean they don’t try it? Nope, not at all. In fact, no matter what consistent consequences or boundaries I set, my sweet baby girl will push the envelope. Elijah did and does still, of course, but he doesn’t have the fiesty fighter temperament of his sister, who, if she gets tired of screaming about how she doesn’t want to take a nap will start screaming that she wants to go to the beach.

It reminds me of a friend who said she thought she was the perfect mom after her first child. Her daughter was so sweet, gentle, and obedient. Then she had number two and found out she wasn’t the perfect mom after all- she’d just happened to have a child with a very gentle and obedient sort of temperament first. Yep, I’d say my pride has been knocked down a few pegs too.  Just step around my child while you are shopping, please. And I promise I will try to think gently of you and your parenting abilities when I see you chasing your toddler down the dairy aisle or smacking another child over the head during library story time.

So there you have it. I’m trying my best to “train up my children” to obey their mommy and daddy, love Jesus and the people around them. And loving it every day! But any of those training books that insinuate that it’s easy if only you do A, B, and C… (and therefore I’m not measuring up if my children aren’t nicely playing jacks outside in their pristine sailor suits), well,  I’m not reading those anymore. Instead I’m trying to remember the beginning of Paul’s letters in the Bible which start out “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Because I’m learning everyday I need less pride and more grace, and thank God there’s lots of it for me.