Norwegian

Gluten free pork meatballs

Dry Waffles

 

An Old Jar

It’s just an old jar. I find it while cleaning out my mother’s things. There are probably countless jars like this in landfills. Yet, I keep it. To me it is more than just an old jar. It brings back memories, memories I want to keep. 

Back in the days of my childhood the jar sat on my mother’s vanity. I would watch her at that vanity getting ready to go out, putting on lipstick, curling her eyelashes, spritzing on cologne, choosing earrings and necklaces. I used tell her she was the prettiest lady in the world. 
The jar is white glass, thick and shaped to be pretty. The plastic top is embossed with flowers. It was made back in the time when things like this were made in the United States. I think it held moisturizer of some sort. 

I clean the inside of the lid. The cardboard seal inside  releases a scent I haven’t smelled in a long time. The scent reminds me of my mother and of the time when she was young and I looked to her for everything - care and comfort. The scent brings back memories of the comfort found in leaning against her arm, of feeling her close. I felt safe and secure. This is a good memory, one I want to keep. 

My mother is gone. The vanity where this jar sat is gone. I keep the jar as a touchstone to all the memories I want to remember.  

Buckwheat Pancakes1 C Buckwheat flour or 3/4 C Buckwheat flour and 1/4 C  regular or GF flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1-2 TBSP brown sugar
Dash of salt
1 C milk
1 TBSP lemon juice or vinegar
1 egg
1 TBSP oil
Combine milk and lemon juice and let stand 5 minutes to become "buttermilk"
Mix dry ingredients together in a bowl.
Add egg and oil to milk and whisk to combine
Stir wet engredients into dry ingredients.
Bake on a griddle at 350 degrees.
Makes 12 small- medium pancakes. 

When I lived in the North the blooming of the lilacs was a sign of warmer days ahead. Now, here in San Antonio, the Texas Mountain Laurel is that sign of warmth on the way. Since moving to Texas last December, the weather all winter long seemed to us like fall or spring. Then in March it really became spring. The laurels bloomed. Leaves came out on the bare trees. Trees that had leaves all winter got new ones. April feels now like like June or July. It feels wonderful to have skipped an entire winter with snow and ice. Someday I may long to see a soft snowfall and feel the crisp, cold air. For now, the sun feels like a healing touch.

Random Friday Five

From RevGalsBlogPals. Friday Five is back!

1. If you could sneak away anywhere this weekend, right now, all expenses paid, where would you go and what would you do?

I would go to a little house we once rented in St Pete Beach where the yard is filled with what are only houseplants here in the north. I'd walk barefoot along the beach enjoying the feel of the soft sand and the sounds of the waves and shorebirds. Then I would sit in the the yard under the orange tree and read good books. I would eat crab for dinner. Later I would sleep with the windows open and enjoy the cool night air coming in through the screens.



2. What is for lunch today?
My usual lunch of blue corn chips and cheese, some of the last summer tomatoes, veggies, and a cup of Tim's fresh roasted coffee.

3. Along that first-FF-I-ever-played theme, what are you wearing today?
I am wearing comfortable clothes on this day of working in the home office - black yoga pants, a soft tee shirt, and my magenta fleece to keep me warm on this chilly, fall day.

4. Along the Today Theme, what are you doing today?
Today will see me reading "The Fault in Our Stars" - four of my confirmation students are reading or have just read it, so it might make for good class discussion. I'm also going to continue paring down my overly large office files.

5. Along the random theme, what is your favorite scent, and why?
I love the smell of the pine trees in the back yard when I go out to hang laundry on the line on a sunny day. I love the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying.

A different spring

It's May 19th and spring is slow. No lilacs yet this year. The leaves on the trees are half out. Peepers are singing in the ponds. The birds at the feeder include goldfinches, evening grosbeaks, orioles, hummingbirds, chipping sparrows, occasional bluejays, pigeons, and a black and white warbler. A least chipmunk scavenges the ground under the feeders.

Lilacs

The lilacs are blooming in Eau Claire. The ones in the parsonage yard are on the verge of popping open. Is this a record early date for lilacs?

Heat wave

This is the third day in a row the temperature has hit 80 degrees. While we have been enjoying the unusually warm weather it has been snowing in Arizona. How strange!
The grass has greened up a lot in the past day. Trees are ready to pop their leaves. We have flowers in the garden with buds ready to open. Update ~ the buds opened and this picture was taken two days later on March 20th. It is a Lenten Rose ~ also known as Hellebore. Lovely!

Keeping track of the weather

We are having record warm days this spring. I do remember a few other years when we had some very nice days, but as time goes by it is hard to remember the details about past years. So, for the record, here is what we have in 2012:
Today, St Patrick's day has been like a nice warm day in June. The grass is just starting to green up, the peepers are singing, the songbirds are singing at daybreak, and we are wearing summer clothes and sandals. I remember other unusually warm days early in the year, but this has been going on for most of the week and is forecasted to continue.
The leaves are not out yet, but the trees have colors that show they are ready to bud out soon.
What will April bring?

What happened to summer?

After days of humid heat, the weather suddenly feels like fall.

Spring has not sprung!

The year 2011 is cool here in the northland. Elsewhere there are record tornadoes.  It's Memorial Day weekend and usually the garden is mostly planted by now. This year the soil isn't beckoning yet. We still have nights of patchy frost ~ read frost in Drammen. The herbs were left out in a pot the night before last and the purple ruffles basil is finally showing signs of recovery.

Bear's Winter Home

Last week while we were skiing and snowshoeing in the woods behind the field we came across what may be a bear's den. We were making our own trail between the trees, and stumbled on a spot where the snow went down with no bottom - just a hole into darkness below.  We didn't stay long enough to explore ~ this was close to where bears have been spotted in the summer.

Winter Sun

Some mornings the sky out the front window is filled with color like at this sunrise not long ago.  This morning began another one of those days that could just as well be photographed in black and white ~ gray sky, white ground, black trees. There isn't much to take pictures of on days like this.

Colorado 2010

Click the picture to start the slideshow

Time to fly!

The babies have grown and now have all their feathers. Most of the baby fuzz is gone. It looks awfully crowded in that nest, so it must be time to fly soon. Mom and Dad are kept very busy feeding this nestful.

Phoebe's babies

Phoebe's eggs have hatched and their little beaks are sticking out over the edge of the nest. Phoebe sat and watched with a concerned eye as I stood on the ladder and took pictures of her babies, but she didn't fly in to attack and didn't even chatter a warning.
Meanwhile, another bird lost a little one. A pale blue egg was found lying on the ground under the pine trees, undamaged, but cold and lifeless.
We worked on cleaning up the invasive bushes and trees under the pines this morning. Tim chopped a couple of good sized Chinese elms down and we both worked at pruning lower brances off the pines. Now our view has been opened up to the fields and forest beyond.

Under the eaves

A phoebe has built a mud nest under the eaves on top of the outdoor lights over the deck. What is it like in that nest at night when we turn the lights on for Gryffin to go out? It must be very bright, but probably also cozy and warm. I first noticed a pile of dirt, sticks, and mud on the deck and wondered how it got there. Now it is obvious ~ it's the overflow from nest building.

Till all things now living unite . . .

A swallow flew into the fellowship hall at church this morning. We had just finished singing

Let all things now living a song of thanksgiving
to God the Creator triumphantly raise,
who fashioned and made us, protected and stayed us,
who still guides us on to the end of our days . . .
We too should be voicing our love and rejoicing
with glad adoration a song let us raise
till all things now living unite in thanksgiving:
"To God in the highest, hosanna and praise!"

The swallow was in a panic to get back outside. No one could coax it toward a door. A few people were uncomfortable with a bird flying around them so closely. Finally someone caught the bird in his hat and released it back outside.

Despite our hymn about all of God's creatures uniting in a song of thanksgiving, it may be a long, long while before people and birds unite in songs of praise.

What is so rare

"What is so rare as a day in June? Then if ever come perfect days. " ~ so wrote the poet James Russell Lowell. A day like this in May may be rarer still.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing, flowers are blooming about a week ahead of their usual time. The day is a wonderful gift laid at our feet. 

2010 Pictures - click the photo, then click slideshow

Wild flowers

The wildflowers on East Oak Hill are different than those here in the valley. They have a haunting grace up there where the road curves, rises and falls. They bloom in secret places. Their color is touched only lightly by the sun. But when the sun does stike them late in the day, they seem to glow from within.

Remembering

These are the flowers that bloom from the plant that Rademacher's brought for Rikka's grave. Life is so short and precious. A year ago Rikka was frail, but still determined to walk with us down the road past the old white dog's place. They would see each other out of the corners of their eyes, keep a respectful distance, but leave each other a bit of their scent in greeting, watering the grass at the edge of the white dog's farm.

This year Gryffin has spring fever. He was ecstatic this morning when no one got up to go to work - it's Saturday - and delighted that the rain is past.

Trilliums

Tonight we saw trilliums in bloom at a wayside along the Chippewa River. It seems early for them. The flowering crabs are also looking beautiful right now.  It is hard to remember from year to year just when things start to bloom, but it seems most years flowering crabs are at their peak around Mother's Day.  Many years I have missed the trilliums altogether - just haven't been at the right place at the right time. They are one of the loveliest spring flowers with their large white petals shaped like a three-corner hat.

Spring!

April 18th and the fields are green. The sun has been shining often. This is Gryffin's second spring and I don't know if he remembers spring last year. His delight is evident on every walk.

"Twas in the Moon of Wintertime

We sang the Huron Carol this morning. The imagery is wonderful for our northern Wisconsin setting, where it is easier at this time of the year to imagine wandering hunters than shepherds out in fields. The children's message was going to be centered around illustrations that go with the song. Since there were no children younger than 16 in church today, there will have to be another time and place to share this song.

‘Twas in the moon of wintertime, when all the birds had fled,
That God the Lord of all the earth sent angel choirs instead;
Before their light the stars grew dim,
and wandering hunters heard the hymn:
Jesus, your king is born!
Jesus is born!
In excelsis Gloria!

Snow

you can't take a laptop on a hike . . .

I called this "Trailside Thoughts" because hiking along a trail often leads to interesting thoughts. The difficulty is in remembering those thoughts afterward to enter them in a blog. I don't take a notebook along and stop and write ideas down. Instead I carry a camera - which leads to images, memories, and even metaphors, but not words.

Gryffin takes Rikka for a walk

Rikka can't go for a walk anymore but hates to be left behind. Gryffin pulls when we walk him and we think he might make a good sled dog. So - here are both dogs doing what they love, one helping the other. Rikka was a little leery at first, but when we got to the neighbor's house and their dog came out to play with Gryff, Rikka had a big doggie smile on her face.

beginnings and endings

Tomorrow we are headed north to Michigan. For Gryffin this will be a new adventure. He hasn't been on any major trips with us. Last time we went to the UP Rikka was a pup - just 2 years old and very happy to be out exploring the world. This time she is home with Grandma. She can barely walk and would be uncomfortable riding such a long distance.

So - this trip is bitter sweet. Rikka is missing her favorite thing - a trip. But Gryff has something wonderful in store for him.

Trails to Rails

Many bike trails are rails to trails - old railroad lines that were converted into bike trails. In what looks like a reverse of that, thawing has changed my cross country ski trail into what looks like very narrow gauge railroad tracks. Packed down snow under the skis has melted slower and now stands above the surrounding snow, looking like something Jack Frost could use for his snow train.

Is it a lion or a lamb when March comes in at 9 below zero? We didn't have a storm, but you can't really call such out of season cold weather "like a lamb."

New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve is a good time for playing old games. We are going to play Careers - all of us who are ready to dream about what it would be like to start all over again.

Taken over by a Dog

I came back from the technology and ministry event in Cable last September fired up to do more blogging to hone my writing skills, but the puppy that was waiting as a surprise at home has consumed all my spare time. I know he will grow into a regular dog and other priorities will emerge. Now, however, he is at that adorably cute puppy stage.
Whenever I am at my computer he is only a few feet away and needs to be monitored constantly. Last week the temptation for him was the tab-top drapes in the living room. He kept trying to open and close them with his teeth. This week it is paper -- crackly white sheets of it snatched off my desk or any table top. So far nothing important has been destroyed, but no paper out in his sight is safe. He chews on sticks out in the yard and that is fine, but this week he has decided that the rungs on the wooden kitchen chairs are just as good for chewing. He'd rather chew on a rubber door stop than his toys.
This will pass. For now, the puppy is all I am writing about.

Gryff

Life's path takes a sharp turn when a 10-week old puppy is thrown into the mix. Simple things that you take for granted are no longer an option. You can't get up during the night, because you might wake the puppy who will cry like a banshee for the next hour. You have to guard your furniture with the vigilance the big dog uses for guarding her bone because the puppy wants to chew on the corners of the coffee table and the sofa. He wants the remote, the mouse, and the power cord, so you hide them.

But, then you lay down for a nap-- and by some miracle the puppy is also tired and sleeps stretched out on your shoulder, breathing softly into your neck-- the trouble is all worth it.

He lookes at us with wonder in his eyes as he comes to live with us, unfamiliar new people and a big red dog. We look back at him and wonder - what will this new little being bring into our lives in the months and years ahead?

Suddenly Life Changes

Now we have a new puppy who is 10 weeks old. The changes that a new little addition to the family demands are like those for a new baby, only speeded up. He doesn't sleep through the night so we walk around half awake. At 15 pounds, he cuddles like a baby, but he also runs and jumps, a thing no human baby would do for almost another year. He sometimes lets us know when he has to go outside, but watch out! -- the cues are often subtle. And unlike any 10 week old baby, he has teeth. So far nothing has gotten chewed up, but then, he is still on his 1st set of teeth. At about the time a baby would be cutting teeth, he will be getting his adult teeth, long and sharp like wolf fangs, but in a head that will seem brainless.

Meanwhile, he is cute, sweet, cuddly, charming, and a marvel to be with.

Up North

Here at Telemark in the ski-lodge setting we are not skiing. We are not even outside. Instead, we are viewing the virtual world at a conference on using technology in the congregation. We talked with someone in Africa without leaving our chairs. We entered a virtual church, but we only looked around - we didn't stay and virtually worship.
Soon, however, we will leave for home and drive through winding forest roads where the leaves are turning their brilliant colors, where the smells of damp fallen leaves are carried on the breeze. Deer will peer at us from ditches. Bears will hear the sound of our motors and stay deep in the forest, in their own virtual world that we seldom share with them.

The Future

Since my midteens I have wrestled with the concept of the future and determinism. If the future is fixed, how can there be accountability? If God has already determined what will happen and laid out the course of my life, am I just going through the motions? I believe that in order for life to be worth living, there has to be some element of surprize, even for God. God may know the probabilites of what we creatures will do and when the odds are high, God will even know the outcome. If we pay attention, so will we. We pretty much know what will happen if we drop a fragile glass bowl onto the pavement from a 200 story building. But I think that things become fuzzier as the odds go closer to 50-50. Then an element of chance comes to play.

In the book The Alchemist, by Paolo Coelho, a camel driver consults a seer and the seer raises the question of why he would even want to know the future:

Then, one day, the oldest seer he had ever sought out (and the one most to be feared) had asked why the camel driver was so interested in the future.
“Well . . . so I can do things,” he had responded. “And so I can change those things that I don’t want to happen.”
“But then they wouldn’t be a part of your future.” the seer had said.
“Well, maybe I just want to know the future so I can prepare myself for what is coming.”
“If good things are coming, they will be a pleasant surprise,” said the seer. “If bad things are, and you know in advance, you will suffer greatly before they even occur.”
“I want to know about the future because I’m a man, the camel driver had said to the seer. “And men always live their lives based on the future.

Hummingbird

The hummingbird is back outside my office window. Wave petunias are beginning to blossom in the window box and the tiny being, attracted by red, comes to drink sweet nectar. The days are still cool and the nights downright chilly, but the little hummingbird seems to find enough to stoke its inner furnace.
Last summer one came and hovered close to the window nearly every morning until frost took away the flowers, but I was never able to capture it with the camera. Hummingbirds always seem to know when the camera is focused on them. They will buzz right up to you and land on your red shirt, mistaking you for a flower. But --sit quietly with a camera focused on the flowers where they have been drinking nectar just a moment ago and they will hide from you and your red shirt. It was rare for me to be able to snap this photo of one in Evergreen, Colorado last August.

Lilac time

Lilacs are ready to explode like popcorn. The yard is fragrant and filled with the song of the phoebe. This is our second spring here in the rolling hills of Wisconsin and we have learned where not to put the garden! Last year the vegetables were a bust, so this year we tilled up a new garden in a sunny spot and planted it with peas, beans, radishes, and lettuce. Today we set out tomatoes, peppers, and kohlrabe. We put in 5 lb. of seed potatoes. I'm already dreaming about new potatoes - the way you dig into the soil and find them like surprises. You never know how big the potatoes will be until you dig and then you find tiny ones like marbles in the same dirt as potatoes the size of your fist. No matter what the size, they always taste creamy sweet.

What a Dog Wants

People say,
You can't have a big dog in the city. A dog needs lots of room to run around. A dog likes to be out in the wild.

To that I say,
Maybe . . .
Sometimes . . .

Our dog misses the city.
Our dog likes the civilized life.
Our dog wants a steady stream of people to come to the house and admire her stuffed monkey, one that shrieks when she pokes the right spot on its stomach.

We have moved to the country and have a huge fenced in yard, edged by a ring of white pines and surrounded by fields where wildlife come. It should be a dog's paradise. Our dog misses her old back yard in the city where she could keep an eye on all the activities in two cul-de-sacs. One evening this past week my hardy spouse built a fire in the backyard chimnea and sat by the warm glow under starlight enjoying the great outdoors. When he heard the coyotes begin to howl, he came inside to invite me to come and hear the coyotes' song. The dog took that opportunity to go into the house and would not come back out. No rustic night by the fire listening to wildlife for her. She prefers to lounge around inside on soft furniture close to the food dish. She likes to go to grandma's house in the city where she can still keep an eye on the neighbor's comings and goings. She likes grandma's house with its soft carpet and abundance of leftovers.

That's what our dog wants.

New Trails

We've moved to the country. We can make our own trails right outside our door. You just head out across the snow-covered field, and there it is behind you - a newly blazed trail. The trails won't last, of course, but for now they are fun. I am looking forward to spring to see what trails lie beneath the snow in these parts.

Toys from a childhood 90 years ago

I visited someone in the hospital today whose memory stretches back over 90 years. Not having toys, they used what they had - chicken feathers and acorns. In the morning she and her sister would go to the chickens and get feathers. The long ones were men. The shorter fatter ones were women, because "women were always fat in those days." The small feathers were children. They took them to the oak trees and lined up acorns to make the rooms of their play house. The feather people could stand up when the ends were pushed into the dirt. If kids don't have toys, kids will play anyway, making their own.

First stop along the trail

A hike along a trail is a good time for reflecting on life. I often wish I could write down the thoughts that come on a good walk. Maybe that is what this space will be for - to write down what takes shape on the literal or figurative trail.