Thanksgiving

Lemonade in the Winter

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Another 6-10” of snow is currently weaving yet one more intricate blanket over central Wisconsin. Its pristine beauty is turning our world into a winter wonderland but it’s heaviness is suffocating. I read an article recently about embracing the winter months as a time to create a comfortable cocoon and hibernate, but we’re not bugs and bears for Pete’s sake. We’re people!

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Poor Mike is snow blowing for the second time this morning.

I feel stuck without anything really new to say. I’m quite frankly sick of myself and sick of social media…trying to paint the best picture, be positive, make myself look better than I really am, trying to get people to like me. Blah, blah, blah!

Honestly life still feels full of a crap-ton of lemons:

  • Work hasn’t picked up. No matter how many pep talks I give or receive, I doubt my decision to return to hair.
  • The second job I hoped for, was meant for someone else.
  • We still don’t have health insurance. (The affordable care act isn’t really affordable unless you don’t want to afford anything else.) Consequently, I worry about every ache, pain, and sniffle Mike gets.
  • I’m bored, lonely, and adrift.

Wait! … Here’s some Late Breaking News!

Literally, in the midst of this rant, my always encouraging, positive friend Barb has messaged me out of the blue asking when my next post was coming. Thank you, thank you Barb! Your message is just the refreshment I need in this exact moment. Thank you God for the gentle cuff across the head.

Here’s the reality. Despite focusing on the lemons (and the avalanche of snow-fall), I been drinking some pretty sweet lemonade. In the last several weeks:

  • I’ve seen new places
    • I recently visited two restaurants I’ve always wanted to try. Both have been in business for over 40 years. One was a hit and one was a miss, but I was so excited and glad to have experienced both.
  • I’ve made new friends
    • I spent five days in Arizona with my BFF and her parents. I didn’t know her parents well before this trip and now feel like I have two new friends.
    • Through the salon, I’ve connected with some of Mike’s friends and co-workers. I’m not just thankful for their business, but the opportunity to better get to know the wonderful people Mike works and hangs out with.
  • I’ve developed new hobbies
    • My at-home yoga practice is flourishing. I’ve completed Yoga with Adriene’s 30 day challenge, am working through her February calendar, and have been trying new vinyasas from the Yoga Journal.
    • I joined a corn-hole / bag toss league with Mike. It’s given us the opportunity to spend time together, a reason to get out of the house, and encourages this introvert to socialize with Mike and his friends.
  • I’ve completed some stuff 
    • Two books
    • A baby quilt top
    • A set of cloth napkins
  • I’ve started a new tradition
    • I’ve just sent out a stack of Valentines (the old-fashioned way) to my whole family. Going forward instead of bludgeoning everyone with a little more joy at Christmas, I’ll spread the love while the winter blues are at their peak.

So I’m canceling the pity party and apologize for wallowing. It’s crazy how easy it is to forget all the good when faced with a little bad. I have a warm house, plenty of food, a loving family, good friends, and a God who loves and has always cared for me.

If you’re drowning in lemons, I pray that there is peace and comfort waiting for you right around the corner. Remember God is good, he is faithful, and you are loved.

If life is currently treating you well, please share the goodness. We all need the reminder that snow melts, spring comes, and lemons can always be made into lemonade.

Happy Valentines Day!

 

Feeling Full

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I confess that I haven’t felt much like writing lately. I wouldn’t call it writer’s block, but more like a lack of patience for sitting at the computer. Writing also means organizing my thoughts into something that makes sense and honestly that’s been way too much work for me lately.

I’m also bone tired. The fact that I’m at least 10 years older than the next oldest person at the salon doesn’t mean I’m exempt from nine-hour days that kick my butt or taking my turn working weekends. The thirty-odd hours I’m working each week feel a lot more like the 50+ I was putting in at my previous job.

You know what though? For the first time in my life I have this feeling that just might be contentment. At first, I thought it may be complacency, but I don’t feel apathetic or negative. I’m exhausted, but not weary. And, even though I don’t always get to all the things I want to each day, I feel satisfied with the things I have accomplished. What is this magic?

Here’s the thing….

  • I LOVE being back in the salon. I love the precision of a great haircut, the creativity of a beautifully applied color, and even a perfectly wrapped perm. I love the nose tickling mix of chemicals and fragrances, the unique characters that sit in my chair, and the happy chatter of a busy salon.
  • I’ve been sewing–giving myself over to the lures of dazzling displays of fabric in whimsical patterns and textures, the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine, and making things that are beautiful and useful out of my two hands.
  • I’ve been doing yoga consistently. Breathing and stretching life back in to my stiff middle-aged limbs and achy joints. Day-by-day I can feel my strength building and flexibility returning despite the inevitable age-related changes to my body.
  • I’ve been able to volunteer at church using my gifts and abilities to feel purposeful and helpful not simply fill a hole.
  • Finally, even with all this new busyness, I still have the energy and capacity to give myself to the people I love without guilt or grudge – WOW!

Don’t get me wrong, life is still far from perfect. It never will be and that’s OK. But life should be more than just enjoying the current harvest of good things. True contentment is “feeling full” because there is a realistic understanding of what you want versus what you need that informs what you could do versus what you should. It’s also dang fulfilling when you can actually combine what you like to do with what you’re actually good at–maximizing the gifts and abilities you’ve been given.

I pray that we all find the things that fill us up and the time and courage to pursue them.

God bless!

Featured Image: Carl Larsson – Das Haus in der Sonne ( The House In The Sun) / The Apple Harvest, 1903 Postcard, Vintage Art, Vintage, art, Vintage Print

Alyce’s Cheesy Beans

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When I was a kid, I ate weird stuff. Granted, I didn’t think it was weird. I gobbled up radish sandwiches, sauerkraut and boiled potatoes, boiled dinner, and last but not least, sweet spaghetti (oh yes, we’ll revisit this one at a later date).

In my Thanksgiving post, I confessed that we forego traditional green bean casserole for cheesy beans. I have no idea where my mom got this recipe, or if she simply made it up, but it has been part of our Thanksgiving feast for as long as I can remember.

These saucy beans are rich, delicious, and probably not very good for you. Thus, we only indulge in them on the day calories don’t exist.  No one has ever written down the recipe and inevitably someone always needs it. So even though Thanksgiving is past, here it is for the world to enjoy anytime–you don’t have to wait for next Thanksgiving!

Oh, by the way….

This is typically what I make for gathering of 12 – 15. You can scale the recipe up or down depending on who you’re feeding. You can also use the extra cheese sauce for just about anything including some super tasty mac and cheese. IF there are any leftovers, there will be a fight for them.

One more FYI….

I like to get the beans and the sauce ready a day in advance and throw them together in the crock pot Thanksgiving morning to warm through. It’s one less thing cluttering up the stove.

Alyce’s Cheesy Beans

Get your beans ready

  • 6 – 8 cans french-cut green beans

Drain your beans really well. You want them pretty dry, otherwise your cheesy beans will be a watery mess–Blah!

I open the cans up a day before and let them sit in a colander over night. (You’d be surprised at the amount of liquid those little babies can hold.) Then blot them with paper towels before adding them to the cheese sauce.

Cheese Sauce

  • 1/4 C butter
  • 1/4 C flour
  • 2 1/2 C whole milk
  • 1 LB Velveeta, cut into chunks
  • Pinch nutmeg
  • Pinch of crushed red pepper (I might use cayenne if I have it)
  • Salt and pepper to taste

Over medium low heat, melt your butter and stir in your flour. Add a little salt and pepper and cook for 1 minute. Whisk in your milk and continue whisking until it starts to thicken.

Start stirring in your cheese chunks (do a couple at a time so they don’t get stuck in your whisk). If your sauce seems a little thick, whisk in a smidgen more milk until it’s the consistency you like.

Once your chunks are melted, and your sauce is a soft yellowy orange, whisk in your nutmeg, red pepper, and a little more salt and pepper to taste.

And that’s it, your sauce is ready for your beans!

If you’re getting things ready in advance, cool your sauce and put it in the fridge over night. Otherwise gently stir in your beans and warm through.

De-lici-ous!

 

Traditions, Memories, & and Change

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Of all holidays, Thanksgiving has always been the one to hold the deepest traditions for my family.

The same dishes have been on the menu from the time I was a little girl, through my children’s formative years, and into a third generation with my grandsons: golden roasted turkey, savory giblet dressing, saucy cheesy beans (in lieu of the more renowned green bean casserole), and fluffy, sweet-tart Bavarian salad are just a few of the standards that, even after 40 plus years, would insight mutiny if left off the list of the day’s delicacies.

Vivid visions of my apron-clad Mom occupy my thoughts this time of year. I can still see her painstakingly preparing a king’s feast for her rowdy brood–deftly tossing flour as she rolls perfect pie crusts, fiercely whisking gloriously rich, velvety smooth gravy you could drink from a cup, and slapping greedy fingers as they sneak crusty bits of dressing bursting hot and steaming from a perfect turkey just pulled from the oven.

Dad and the boys would be dragged from the TV to pull out the banquet table and set it up in the living room to accommodate all nine of us, my widowed aunt, and sundry guests. Us girls would set the table and serve up the feast while getting first dibs on the coveted black olives before they were devoured at the table.

We’d sit for hours at the table talking, joking, laughing, but mostly waiting for our full tummies to make a little room for sampling the plethora of pies anxiously waiting to be tasted.

It was a glorious day!

The faces and scenes began to evolve over the years; but the scents, tastes, and sounds remained virtually unchanged. By closing my eyes, I could easily transport myself back to November 1981, when I was still 10 years old, and Mom was busy in the kitchen.

But, I am no longer 10. I am the mom, mother-in-law, and grandmother presiding over the feast. My Mom has left us and new faces grace our table. My children, with their spouses, are ready to introduce new dishes to our menu.

This year, a vegan green bean casserole, Pillsbury Crescent Rolls (Did you know these were vegan?), and a new stuffing recipe my daughter Julia is eager to try, will be joining the old standards.

While my heart aches with memories of the past, it also eagerly anticipates the new traditions ready to unfold. It’s funny how the heart works. It has an amazing elasticity to stretch and hold whatever you choose to put into it. Mine is going to treasure the memories of the past and make room for the traditions and changes to come.

Happy Thanksgiving!


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