Sibling Assignment #173: Land of Counterpane, Precision Cuts, Where I'm From

I gave the sibling assignment this week.
"Three favorites". Review the archives of our sibling assignments and choose a favorite written by each of us. Link the post and share why it is a favorite.  Brother Bill's choices are here. Sister Carol's will be linked soon.
The three of us have written 519 sibling assignments as a trio. Like brother Bill I didn't read every one, but I first did thinking about ones that stood out to me.  Each of these posts I chose were memoir pieces that captured vivid details, strong emotion, and lasting words for us to reflect on.
In January of 2011 Silver Valley Girl gave us an assignment to write something about Mom. I chose one from my archives entitled "The Land of Counterpane". This is the third time I am posting this. You can find it here. It is one of my favorites because it is timeless. No matter when I read this post it continues to remind me of the comfort my mom has provided me. I remember reading it aloud to her. I think she was a bit surprised. I think it is hard for a mother to reflect on her own acts of comfort as she is living them. Having moved next door to her now the comfort may be working both ways. I have tucked her in a few times in the last year , but didn't read Stevenson's poem.
The writing of brother Bill's I chose went way back to our early blog posts to Sibling Assignment #4 in November of 2006. Silver Valley Girl gave the prompt which was to remember Mom and special Christmas treats. Bill wrote a beautiful tribute to our mom intertwining all she did while we were growing up and how many traditions such as fruitcake, pumpkin bread, and popcorn balls still continue. You can find his post here. Last month while Bill made a visit he was able to participate in the making of the fruitcake. I smiled yesterday while in the kitchen with Mom when she said "I think your brother does a very good job with fruitcake. " I agreed with her. Again, we are watching the traditions we hold dear with Mom doing role switching.
The choice from sister Carol's blog came from an assignment I gave during National Poetry Month in 2008. She composed her version of "Where I'm From" . You can find it here. Images of her childhood are woven into a memoir tapestry that caused me to also return and read all of our poems from this assignment. Again, now that I am spending more time at Mom's house next door, many of these pieces of childhood are still there. I liked this post because even though we have an eight year age difference, many of our images were the same.

(The photo at the top was taken about fifty-five years ago when we traveled to Orofino for Christmas.)

Sibling Assignment #172: The Controversy Surrounding Thanksgiving Dressing

Brother Bill gave the sibling assignment this week after some surprising observations during the planning, preparation, and presentation of dressing for the Thanksgiving Dinner. I will link the sibs' posts when done.

His assignment: "Turkey dressing.. Take this topic any direction you'd like."

As Thanksgiving approaches each year and the meal planning begins, the first question often raised is whether we call the traditional side dish dressing or stuffing. This in turn leads to the question whether a turkey should be stuffed or not. The last few years the most controversial question has been, "Can we try another recipe for dressing that hasn't been used in the past?" Scary territory.

We are a family that does traditional turkey in a roasting pan. No brining, BBQing, deep fat frying, no bag, no smoking. Just Betty Crocker style turkey is all that has been served for almost all Thanksgiving dinners. About ten years ago we went off course and used whole wheat bread for stuffing and served game hens. It was okay, but not the same. Last year Mom and I tried cornbread stuffing. That was quite a departure from tradition, but not "weird" (any time in our house when Raymond Harold "Pert"/Dad Woolum thought we were serving something new or different he called it "weird" or "weird shit food".  Experimenting with cornbread was only the bread, so he may have only said, while grimacing, "This is 'different' sissy." When food went out a window to the bushes or the loaf of white bread and peanut butter came out on the table, I understood I had gone too far on the "weird" scale for Dad. Thus, usually traditional dishes ruled.

This year I volunteered to roast the turkey since I had never done one. As I began planning the dinner I researched a wide variety of recipes for dressing. How daring could I be? Would the rafters fall on the table if I added new ingredients? I decided not to stuff the turkey. If it didn't work out I didn't want to ruin both. I focused on combinations of flavors and textures I thought would work. I am sure Dad was smiling down from heaven , pleased he didn't have to try "this weird shit."I chose Sweet Potato and Cranberry Dressing from a recipe found on a woman's blog. Mom had the dried bread she saves all year, a friend harvested fresh cranberries from a local lake, and I thought sweet potatoes partnered with carrots, onions, and rosemary sounded like a good combination. To add fresh flavor, I added orange juice and orange liqueur. Brother Bill loved it, JEJ was on board also and I liked it. Mom smiled and said, "Well... it is different. " I like weird and different.

Why does dressing only have to be served with turkey? Maybe I should have a dressing bakeoff another time of year and challenge family members to get creative!

You can find the recipe here.

Sibling Assignment #171: Autumn in Kellogg: A Teacher's Magical Approach to Learning.

Sister Carol gave the sibling assignment for this week:  "Write about a memory or memories of the autumn season growing up in Kellogg, sometime before you graduated from Kellogg High School."

I will link my siblings' posts when completed.

I began my elementary school years at Silver King School. In first grade I was almost across the hall from my mother's classroom. She taught second grade. We attended school with her so we didn't have to walk a long ways to our neighborhood school. I suppose it was helpful also that we were there with her before and after school.

Before second grade we moved 516 W. Cameron in Kellogg and Mom decided we would go to the school in our neighborhood. We walked each day to Sunnyside School. From the first day of school there I have vivid memories, but today I am going to write about autumn in second grade. 

My teacher was Mrs. Meyer and I felt a bit special because my great-uncle's wife was her sister. I guess I thought we were related. She was bigger than life in her instruction, her manner, her talents , and her activities. It seems very unlikely that 2nd graders at Sunnyside School would ever be allowed to leave the classroom and walk off the playground during a school day. Not when Mrs. Meyer was your teacher. One glorious, sunny autumn afternoon we went on a walking field trip.

We were studying Neighborhoods in social studies and I can still remember to this day the blocks we strolled through as a well-mannered group and how she taught us how the even and odd house numbers worked. She also pointed out how you count by twos on addresses.  I guess she tied a bit of math in there also. From that day forward I always felt smug because I knew why the houses had certain numbers. I am sure we then learned about our own addresses.

The next learning adventure on this walking field trip was a science lesson. Mrs. Meyer taught us how to observe nature by studying leaves. The sidewalks that day were covered with leaves. She let us pick them up, throw them in the air, and study them. When we were done we brought our favorites back to the classroom. 

Then the teacher performed magic. She showed us how to lay the leaves on wax paper and preserve them between two sheets by having her iron them. I loved observing all those preserved leaves in the huge classroom window that autumn. More then fifty years later I can still remember the neighborhood we walked, what the house numbers meant, the smell of the leaves, the feel of the leaves, and how important I felt being able to walk with my class away from school for a learning experience.

Mrs. Meyer was a magical teacher every day I had her in class. Whether it was poetry she recited, reading exercises about Dick and Jane and their friends, or learning to do paper mache.... it was magical. I will never forget her.

Late Autumn Surprises: Baby Steps With New Camera

Today I decided to try out my new camera around the yard.  At first I could not get it to work. Then I removed the cap from the lens. Sheesh. Baby steps. When I was looking for subjects to photograph I walked quietly and observed first what damage had been done during the wind storm. Fortunately, that was very little. Above is a strong flowering kale that may not ever give up, even during the winter months.

Next I observed what is still thriving at this late date. As always since I have moved to my new house, I found surprises. The baby burning bush decided to burn before the leaves fell off.

 The mums I bought to dress up the porch have new buds on them. I am going to bring them in to the basement greenhouse and see what happens.

 It took a few tries with my new camera, but finally I captured this vivid purple petunia, 

still showing her stuff.

 I made a quick trip inside to practice on the African violets. Look very closely. For the first time in more than thirty years, I have a bloom ready to open.

images shot with a Nikon D3300

Fall Tasks: The Rules Are Different

This has been a crazy autumn. Many people still have flowers blooming in their yards in Kellogg. There has only been one hard frost. The most damage our plants have gotten in the last few days is from the wind. I am used to in the past coming home to help Mom put her garden "to bed" now, wearing a heavy vest and cutting down numerous dead plants. I thought I should deadhead the mums. Those are the flowers above in the bottom of the garbage can. Now the plants have new buds.

This year nothing has died back yet. When I did a tour of Mom's yard the other day she still had calendulas blooming.  I bought and planted a rose about a month ago and it is still blooming. JEJ did put the winter fertilizer on the grass today. I hope it doesn't get new growth now!

I think the garden task calendars are getting a bit out of whack now. The rules are different when it comes to getting a garden and yard ready for winter. I am all for a long, lovely autumn, but I just hope five feet of snow doesn't fall tomorrow. Some time we need to put protection around the roses.

Of course, my Christmas cactus is now blooming. I don't need a fuzzy blanket, but use one anyway. I am ready to wear my mittens, hat, and scarf, but like the milder weather.
The only thing that has been consistent is the time change and darker afternoons.

So much for my plans and to-do lists. I am just going to go with the flow. Maybe it will never get cold. Maybe roses will still be blooming in December. Maybe we will have to gas up that lawn mower again. Time will tell. I will keep you posted!

Kindness: Thanks for the Words of Naomi Shihab Nye

On days like today when there is hurt around the world it makes sense to be angry, feel helpless, feel deep sadness. I always feel like the best thing I can do on days like today is focus on the positive. This poem by Naomi Shihab Nye has gotten me through many difficult times in my life. I had the privilege of hearing her speak once, and she reminded me of the ways we can look at the world with goodness, hope, and love.

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt weakened in a broth.

What you held in your hand,

What you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever.

Before your learn the tender gravity of kindness

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho

lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone

who journeyed through the night with plans

and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day to mail letters and

purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the crowd of the world to say

It is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you everywhere

Like a shadow or a friend.

Naomi Shihab Nye

From Words Under the Words: Selected Poems