Stress Baking: Green Onion Cakes

There is a food here in Edmonton that locals go wild for. We stand in line at every festival waiting for a hot green onion cake to be served to use with a side of chile sauce and black vinegar. Edmontonians have a rabid obsession with these flakey hot disks of deliciousness. I don’t know if you have heard, but summer was cancelled by our Chief Medical Officer. I will miss the green onion cake truck so I decided to make my own.

I am learning that most people call these scallion pancakes… what?? Not in Edmonton. There is even a shop by the dude who brought them to Edmonton called The Green Onion Cake Man, so that is the proper name when you visit here. I was flipping through Instagram and saw a sponsored post by Robin Hood Flour to make these. I looked through the recipe and those that was easy enough. I had all the ingredients so why not? The recipe wasn’t as easy to follow because a online content specialist developed the format and not someone who follows recipes. I had to flip back and forth for measurements so I am sure there is an easier recipe out there, but this one is very delicious.

I made the shaggy dough. The number one most important step is to add boiling water. This will hydrate the flour to make it easy for rolling paper thin.

Then I chopped the green onions (scallions for you non-Edmontonians) and tossed it with the sesame oil and flour – this was different from the recipe but I have watched Green Onion Man make it this way. The recipe says to just combine flour and oil, I combined all three. Let the dough rest for 30 minutes. It needs time for the gluten to develop and rest. Divide the dough into four parts. I weighed them to make it even and fair.

I rolled the dough into a 8″ circle, and spread 1/4 of the onion paste onto the disk. Then I rolled it tightly into a tube – cinnamon bun style.

There were zero pictures in this recipe so I watched a video to get the hang of it. (Not all online marketing content writers are good at explaining things- I’m judgey because this is my industry).

Then you are supposed to spiral it – thusly:

How cute is that little snail-like bundle?

Now roll the living daylights out of it – the first one was terrible – let it rest about 5 minutes before rolling.

Then I popped it into a hot pan and fried them about 2 minutes a side with a lid – the lid helps these beauties rise and show off their flaky innards.

My pan was too hot so I suggest 3-4 minutes on medium, not medium high.

These did not last longer than 30 seconds. I recomend not using too much of the whit becuase they cut through the dough. Just use the greens. I saved a couple onions to regrow because I jumped on that bandwagon too. I plan to grow a few more because so many things taste nice with fresh sprigs of the green tops.

It takes about 8 days of changing the water everyday until you have enough to harvest. These little guys are four days old and grew one inch yesterday.

What projects are you working on this week? Let me know! I am looking for more inspiration. I am making butter tarts this week for the daughter’s birthday and planning out my garden. I am beginning to feel a lot like Laura Ingalls or Anne Shirley.

Stay healthy friends!

Late to the Party…again

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Why am I always late to the party? And by party I mean Mad Men.  I am currently binge watching this series. It fascinates me. As one of those kids who were born in the 60’s I watch this show and look at the mothers, fathers and society and think “wow, that sure explains my childhood”.

I am one of those moms who loves her children fiercely, wanted to be the one who raised them so made huge sacrifices to be a stay at home mom. At the time, I thought I was sacrificing things. Hindsight is an amazing thing. This is not true, We survived just fine without ‘things’. What I sacrificed in many ways was me. The intellectual me. The self-esteem me. The me who did things a certain way to get through the day and now it is an expectation of those around me to keep it up. HA…that’s not going so well. I created monsters and now am trying to undo all those things – like dinner ready at 5, like ultra planned events, like parties where details are lovely.

I pretty much have unzipped that persona and stepped into the new me where I am usually still studying at 5, food is fuel – you don’t see dinner? Make it yourself – you are capable because I taught you. Parties? How about we meet at a restaurant? That way I don’t have to care about what my house looks like. I have pretty much become a man of the 60’s. I would love a 60’s house wife…but who wouldn’t?

I had a grandmother who had 5 children. She did house work and cooked but always changed into a nice dress and but on makeup before my grandfather came home. She said he worked hard and it was the woman’s job to pamper the man and to put herself together and look nice for him. Dinner’s ready, wife is cute, children are sparkling… wow.

This is not something I ever did. Should I have? Would it have made a difference?

Did the man actually appreciate what the woman did? Not sure. It isn’t like that on Mad Men. It is an expectation. It was an expectation of my grandfather too. My father just expected food and quiet. At the end of his day, he needed 30 minutes of solitude before dinner. I soooooo understand that. He never cooked, actually, the time my mom was in the hospital, he did cook. Once. I then took over cooking duties. How can you expect someone to do something well if they had never been taught? Or had time to practice? You can’t…or shouldn’t…. just teach them. Now that dad is retired he is starting to learn, but mom still makes all the meals and looks after him that way. I suspect it has more to do with her feelings for him then it being an obligation because I learned about feminism from my mom. Besides, my mom really and truly loves to cook.

Not me.

I HATE COOKING. I hate being a restaurant. I detest cooking meat.

I fail as a housewife of the 60’s.

I am cool with that.

But what I didn’t anticipate is how I feel about the men of the 60’s.

I like their assertiveness. I like their vulnerability. They were the providers and it was stressful. That isn’t an expectation anymore, it is a shared burden. As difficult as it is for men now, I think it might have been harder for them in the 60’s. Aside from the condescending attitudes towards women, I really think bearing the brunt of all financial matters was a tough position to be in.

So I watch Mad Men with a keen sense of nostalgia and it has my childhood making perfect sense…the the 70’s came along and ruined everything from weird attitudes to fashion. The 70’s and 80’s were just wrong.

Do I wish I was an adult in the 60’s? No…I prefer the hierarchy of today.

However, the fashion was kick-ass…I miss that kind of swanky luxury.download

Once upon a time there was a little girl who could make babysitters cry…

06443029462bcbe897d59a3467928dc4_answer_6_xlarge10 o’clock at night and my girl is upstairs blasting Time Lord Rock while baking Rose Tyler esc cupcakes for a dear friend and fellow Whovian’s birthday. I have been told that she is quite capable of following the instructions and baking on her own. Agreed.

Then I hear “Moooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom, can I have your opinion on these cupcakes please? They are giant but liquid in the middle. How long should I put them back in for? And why do they taste like Cherry Cough Syrup?”

Good Question… Ask Grandma.

My mom was a good egg in lots of ways. She always let me listen the radio station of my choice when we were in the car. She didn’t care. Dad on the other hand would say “This stuff is utter crap, I can’t listen to this.” And the station would change to some oldie station playing Peter, Paul and Mary or the Limelighters. This would account for my obscure and amazing talent of knowing every song ever written between 1948 and 1989, this includes jingles and TV theme songs. It’s a handy talent for some great trivia games and for radio quiz shows where I get to win tickets to The Who and The Rolling Stones.

Mom would also encourage me to experiment in the kitchen. I learned the basics from her and my Aunty Mary Poppins, but the fine tuning I did on my own. I dad would eat ANYTHING I put in front of him and he would always say, “That is the best I ever had! Did I make it?” Between both my parents, that made me fearless in the kitchen. I am not a swell cook – but I am an AMAZING baker. There is a difference. I think some people can be great at both but often they are only good at one or the other.

My girl is a self proclaimed distraction in the kitchen. I let her do all kinds of baking and cooking experiments but there is usually some disaster that happens and we need to figure out how to fix it. To be honest, it isn’t always fixable, so we pack it up and give it to her Grandpa (my dad) who will eat ANYTHING and say it’s the best ever.

I remember baking on Friday nights when we had a babysitter because Mom and Dad were off Dancing  – I know…it was the olden days when people went dancing at the club – (as in country club) It sounds fancier than it was, but my parents loved it. We went through babysitters like some people go through socks. My brother and I were THE WORST KIDS EVER – not true  – were only bad if we didn’t like the babysitter. I liked the weak ones. The ones that were nice on the outside but I could make them cry in an instant. One time we had this gal, a neighbor of my grandma, she came over and wanted to play games or watch TV and I would say – no. I am baking cookies.

“Are you allowed to do that?”

Me: NO – are you kidding? Mom is going to kill you. “Yes, my mom lets me all the time.”

“Okay – call me if you need help”

Me: pfffff whatever – “okay”

I went into the pantry and pulled out all the ingredients for Quaker Oatmeal Cookies. The Just Add Water kind of cookie mix that mom would buy and add a billion things to for granola bars. I used an entire package (enough for 1000 cookies) and a gallon of water. I think it said one cup but the measuring cup was really big – I think it was 8 cups. But I filled it because it was still only one cup.

I had made cookie cake. It was liquid porridge. I couldn’t spoon it onto a cookie tray, it would run all over the place. So I left it in the bowl, put all the dirty dishes and baking garbage into the oven and shut the door.

I went to join the babysitter and my brother and said I changed my mind. I didn’t want to bake.

Later while I was fake sleeping, my mother called me into the kitchen.

She had the keen sense of Sherlock Holmes. There wasn’t a dish left out, yet she knew.

“What happened in here tonight?”

Me: I was fake tired and said “What???’ in my sleepy fake voice.

“This kitchen is a disaster!”

Me: What are you talking about? I hid the evidence. I knew I needed to stay silent.

“Were you making cookies?

Me: How does she know this stuff? Silence…………

“Where did you hide the stuff?” She looked around and likely saw a fingerprint on the oven door.

Then I remember the oven door opening and the angry voice lecturing me for what seemed like a week. But thankfully dad came home and sent me to bed.

Now that I am a parent myself, these are the thoughts that run through my head:

  1. Why would the babysitter let an 8 year old bake cookies unsupervised?
  2. Obviously mom saw the flour dust all over everything. What is clean to an 8 year old is not clean to a mom.
  3. Why didn’t my parents just lock us up under the stairs to go out? We tortured babysitters for fun. How we make it out of our childhood alive is beyond me.
  4. I always thought my mom was crazy about cleanliness – I still do.
  5. Why did my parents change babysitters so frequently? Did the girls just say no? I would – but to be fair, I could talk those girls into anything and I think they didn’t expect that from a kid. I was the evil emperor of kids needing supervision. Let’s face it, after every girl in Sherwood Park failed and became brainwashed by my charms, there wasn’t a whole lot for them to do. They became powerless. I would put my sister to bed, I would talk my brother into running away or hiding or really – anything to make the sitter never wanting to come back. I’m sure my parents paid well, but sometimes no job is EVER worth it.

Meanwhile, my daughter just made cupcakes that taste like cough syrup and I am proud like I am raising a little me. Luckily her grandfather lives a block from the school, so when her friends don’t eat the cupcakes – he will.

And the family tradition continues….only the dirty dishes better not be hidden in the stove.

The baking is done and so am I

gooey-cookies

A long time ago, perhaps only last year, I could take on more than humanly possible. I think it was genetic or stupid…without a substantial research grant, I will not be able to quantify the data. Let’s call it genetic, shall we?

When I was little, around 10ish, I was finally old enough to be a real help in the kitchen. One of my mom’s hobbies was cooking. When I say cook, I am not talking your run of the mill meat loaf or casserole. My mom was a Julia Childs fan in a BIG WAY. She watched Julia on cooking shows and Graham Kerr the Galloping Gourmet when ever she was home and could catch it on. These were the days before VCRs and my mom worked full time.

I would come home from school, call my mom and she would give me instructions on how to start dinner. She was very good at giving step by step instructions so I could visualize them in my head. Eventually, all of us kids learned to cook via the phone method and we would take turns preparing meals, all of us but dad. He was the official taste tester. It was his job to tell us “it was the best thing he every tasted” whether it was or not. I honestly believe that is why we all are better cooks than we use to be. He gave us the confidence to try new things. Even if it tasted like dog food, my dad would eat it and say it was the best ever!

Every year around the Grey Cup (Canada’s Superbowl…not really but it whatever) Mom would have finalized her Christmas Baking list and purchased all the supplies she needed. We would then get to work. By dinner time, the house would be filled with hundreds of cookies, squares, tarts and candy. The idea was, if you are making a mess in the kitchen, go big or go home. It was fun. Sometimes my grandma and aunt would come over and it would be a girls day baking. Those were fun times! I had kept up that tradition until this year.

Today I had the intention of baking several different batches of cookies and several buckets full of various flavoured candy popcorn. The result?

I made it as far as two batches of cookies and think “Who the hell is going to clean up this mess?” I am knackered.

Lemon Crinkles and Chocolate chip cookies made the cut. Ginger Sparklers and Short Bread may or may not get done this year. I am pretty sure tarts are out of the question. I did manage to whiz up the candy canes in the food processor for peppermint dust on the chocolate covered popcorn. But that is the extent of my ambition. Oh, and I made tea.

Now I need a nap.

Resolutions

Today’s post is from some new friends (Alanna and Jana – it’s great when new friends rhyme!) I met at the WordPress Conference this year. They speak my language of yoga and Chocolate, so naturally we hit it off immediately! I invite you to take a stroll over to their page Rejuvenate your Prana and tell them I say hi!

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RESOLUTIONS

Could it almost be the start of another New Year? Along with the excitement of a fresh start and new possibilities comes the dreaded New Year’s Resolution! I, like many others, have fallen prey to this tradition. I have made myself a lofty goal or two that usually goes something like; This year I will lose 10 pounds or This year I will stop drinking coffee or This year I will not buy so many clothes! I would immediately start working on my goal by setting a date on which to start it – say sometime mid-February perhaps (I would need some time to prepare myself to start this plan)! Actually, it would give me just enough time to forget I ever made that goal and to go on my merry way right into the next year at which time I could start all over again!

So, why do we do this to ourselves? I like to believe that those of us who create resolutions are doing so because we are ‘resolving’ to be a better version of ourselves in the coming year. We would like to see ourselves grow, change and evolve as the years go by. There’s nothing wrong with that right? Maybe not – but perhaps there is a different way to approach the process; a kinder, gentler and more rewarding way.

We all have what we call “guilty pleasures”, things that we love but that we believe are in some way ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’. Maybe it’s chocolate or coffee or shoe shopping. When we deprive ourselves of these things by taking them away, we usually end up rebounding and eating more chocolate than ever or having two lattes a day instead of just one! Well, what if we were to take the guilt away leaving only the pleasure? Perhaps we could do the things that we would most deeply desire for ourselves, not what we think we should do or need to do!

So how do we do this? Well, I believe the key lies in creating balance and using our focus to our benefit. In yoga, when we bring our bodies into a balancing posture like “Tree Pose”, we first find our center (putting our weight onto one leg), bring our gaze to a focal point in front of us (allowing us to stay steady) and then start coming into the pose and finding our balance. This isn’t the end of the process though. To find our balance in the pose, we may find ourselves losing our balance, swaying to the right or left or needing to put our foot back down on the ground. So, we allow ourselves to rock back and forth, to sway, to lose our balance and then we just come back into the pose again, the same way we did the first time.

I believe that setting resolutions or goals for ourselves can look the same as practicing Tree Pose. First, we find our center; that is, we discover what it is we truly want for ourselves. Maybe this is more vibrant health or a more satisfying diet or to feel better in our bodies. Then we bring our focus to that goal by seeing what it is that that we can do to achieve this for ourselves. Perhaps it is by adding new foods to our diet that make us feel healthy and vibrant instead of focusing on taking other foods away. Doing this allows us to place our focus on what we want in our lives, not what we feel we must not have. Then we start to find our balance within this new way of living. We notice when the balance feels right and if it doesn’t or we lose our balance, we come back to the process by re-adjusting our focus. We may start to notice that the foods or other things that don’t fit with our true intention for ourselves start to fall away or are replaced by things that make us feel differently.

So, what do you desire for yourself in the coming year? How will you approach this intention in a way that leaves you feeling pleasure minus the guilt? We’d love to know!

Speaking of guilt-free pleasures, Jana has been whisk-deep in culinary experimentation as usual. Her obsession lately has been to create “clean” eating chocolate treats. So here is a recipe that comes directly to you from the Rejuvenate Your Prana Kitchen. We call it “Passion Pot de Creme” (a no bake version with layers of orange-mint chocolate and raw cashew cream). Sometimes life doesn’t always deliver, but this desert sure will!

Recipe:

For the chocolate pot de crème:

8 oz. of good quality semi-sweet chocolate (I used Callebaut semi-sweet chocolate chips – use your favorite kind)

2 tsp of orange zest (other options: ground coffee, cinnamon, etc.)

1 C of plain almond milk

½ C finely ground almond

1 tsp of vanilla extract

For the cashew cream:

1 C raw cashews (soaked in water for 30 minutes)

3 oz dates (soaked in water for 30 minutes)

1 tsp vanilla extract

Water as needed (use soaking water from the dates)

Directions:

  1. For the pot de crème: melt chocolate in heat proof bowl (e.g. I placed the bowl in a shallow pan filled with water to create a double boiler)
  2. Mix orange zest in melted chocolate. Remove from heat.
  3. In a separate bowl, mix the almond milk, vanilla and ground almonds. Pour mixture into melted chocolate and whisk until evenly blended.
  4. Pour into 4 small ramekins. Place in the fridge for at least 2 hours. The pot de crème should be thick and rich like pudding after refrigeration.
  5. Make the cashew cream: Drain water from cashews and place in a blender, add with dates and the soaking water and the vanilla (the amount of water added should be just enough to cover the solids). Taste and add more sweetener if desired (remember that the chocolate will be quite sweet so the cashew cream should have a milder taste).
  6. To assemble: Dollop cashew cream on top of chilled chocolate.
  7. Garnish with berries or chocolate shavings and serve chilled.
  8. Enjoy!

Happy New Year from Rejuvenate Your Prana!

Picnic Table Topics To Go

Chicken Hawk gave me a box of Picnic Conversation Topics for my birthday. No it’s not anywhere close to my birthday, but that’s how we roll. We stick gifts in our respective purses and wait for 15 opportune moments to pass before we give each other our gifts! I of course thanked her and said, “Seriously? You think my family EVER runs out of things to talk about?” So when Picnic season starts, I will bring these little gems with me for conversation starters around the fire while we are making s’mores.

Thanks Chicken Hawk!

Meanwhile, I took a peek at these cards.

  1. How much dirt is it okay to eat? Hmm, if it is worms and dirt pudding – all you can eat. If it is dirt from the ground, I choose none, although I have eaten some by accident and lived to talk about it.
  2. How much money would it take for you to eat a worm in your sandwich? Gross, but I have a price. It would have to be enough for me to be debt free for life.
  3. What is your favorite sandwich? Grilled Pear and Brie. Followed closely by grilled peanut butter.
  4. What is the best picnic food? My mom’s rice crispy squares.
  5.  What is the most beautiful park in your area? Emily Murphy
  6. What celebrity would you be least surprised to see to day? Nathan Fillion? Jerome Iginla? Mark Messier?
  7. Where are some interesting places you’ve taken a picnic? Christmas Tree hunting in a lodge pole pine forest. It was -10C.
  8. What sandwich do you like that no one else does? Jam and Cheese – Cuban Style.
  9. Would you rather picnic at the beach or the mountains? Beach in Alberta means stink and algae, I’ll choose Mountains and take my chances with the bears.
  10. What do you ponder while gazing at the clouds? Would you believe World Peace? I didn’t think so. Travel destinations.
  11. What is the most unusual thing you know how to do?

They all left me with a definitive answer, except one. What is the most unusual thing you know how to do? I thought about this for a very long time. I can face paint, make balloon animals, quilt, build stuff, but the MOST unusual? Hmmm

Years ago I was in a relationship with a guy who liked to think he was Grizzly Adams…He was not. He hated spending money on pre-made stuff. The guy made his own wallet, cab for his truck, canoe, boat lift, lathe, and a bazillion other things. Nothing was aesthetically pleasing, they often cost MORE than buying the item in the first place and it was hugely time consuming. The thought of giving the bank a chance to lend him money for a mortgage was inconceivable. He wanted to live mortgage free and build his own house. Sadly, that meant I needed to help.

We bought land, a tractor, a backhoe, a drag-line, logs and 2 chainsaws. All of these items were not brand new, so months were spent working on them to make the usable. It fell upon me to peel the logs for a log home. These logs were 2 feet in diameter. The standard draw knife at LeeValley Tools was too small and my knuckles had no skin left by the end of the day. So, I made myself a draw knife. I took a spring from the old Ford F150 from the back of the property, ground an edge and welded two handles on it. That right, I can weld. It isn’t pretty, but I could do it. I peeled 150 logs all by myself. My draw knife was a heavy but very efficient.

I suppose the answer would be make my own Draw Knife.

There isn’t one thing about that relationship I look back on and fondly remember except it made me strong physically so I could punch him when I left. Not that I did…But I could have and that makes me smile.

Mrs. Weasley, We Should Meet for Coffee!

Apparently I am a Magical Being. Surprised? I sure am! It is just like when Harry Potter discovered he could talk to snakes and make glass disappear. He was busy being mad at Dudley when magical things started to happen to the world around him. The exact same thing happened to me this morning!

No, no, no, I cannot talk to snakes, I use to when I worked in the family business…but I digress. Nor did I make a window disappear. It was more magical than that! I was making lunches this morning. When it was time to leave for work, Chatterbox said,”Did you make me a sandwich?” I sure did! I hate making lunches, I distinctly remember making them by the coffee pot. (Sure I drooled a bit looking at the cold empty coffee maker, thinking about how delightful a hot creamy dark roast might taste.But no drool dripped onto the sandwiches, I SWEAR!) I left all the lunches and sandwiches on the counter. Everything was there except HER sandwich! What the? I was baffled. Where did it go? I checked the pantry beside the peanut butter, no- not there. I checked the fridge in the fruit bin, no- not there. I looked in the microwave, silverware drawer, coffee cup cupboard, and I even checked the trash. We simply could not find it! I started to doubt my mom skills! I looked at the clock and realized I needed to make a new sandwich for Chatterbox.

I was pretty excited as I drove to work. Think of the possibilities! I would just need to learn to harness this power! I was sure someone would show up today explaining to my about my new-found magical abilities. I couldn’t wait to be able to pop in and out of places or use charms for household tasks. I knew how it worked, I read all the Harry Potter Books! I couldn’t WAIT to get started! This theory is much more appealing than the real possibility that I am losing my mind due to old age.

I arrived home all happy and excited. I couldn’t wait to tell Honey how magical I had become. Chatterbox interrupted me in mid-sentence. “Oh, By the way, I found my sandwich in my lunch bag. So I ate two sandwiches.” Then she walked away. I was crestfallen. So much for all my fantasies coming true. I was so close to hanging out with Mrs. Weasley.

Lesson learned. Focus on the task at hand, THEN dream about magic.

Remember When Mary Poppins came to Live with Us?

Screenshot of Julie Andrews from the trailer f...
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Today is one of those snuggle with a quilt and eat soup days. Chilly and damp makes me crave soup and wool socks. As I was chopping and slicing vegetables and chicken for homemade soup, I was remembering who taught me how to cook. Well, no surprise here, that was my mom. I have told you before what an amazing cook she is because she pays attention to details. But there was a time when Mary Poppins came to live with us.

My Mary Poppins came in a tiny package of about 5’2″. She was a Nun, so we called her Sister. Sister had a data base of recipes in her brain that would shame Martha Stewart. She was the worlds first recycler, and could make anything with a piece of string and a bit of felt. Sister had to be the inspiration for MacGyver. She had gray hair and glasses, always wore a dress with stockings and donned an apron. Never heard of one?

a·pron  (prn)n.

1.

A garment, usually fastened in the back, worn over all or part of the front of the body to protect clothing.

In the old days, every woman born BEFORE 1945 always wore an apron. My Mary Poppins was no exception. She was born to a farming family of 14 children, might be 13, they always said they had 13 brothers and sisters. I imagine you learned to eat or be eaten. She was my Grandfather’s OLDER sister. To me Grandpa was OLD so his sister must have been 100. But the reality is she was likely in her late 60’s, and NO THAT IS NOT MIDDLE AGED!
There was a time in my family’s life that we needed some divine intervention to help with the work load of Mom’s crazy new job that had her working easily 18 hours a day, 5 kids ( we had 2 foster siblings – dad collected kids like hockey cards), Dad’s teaching career meant a TON of extra curricular work, and our family had enough laundry that made the Rockies look small. When Sister came for a visit and all my mom could think was – crap, more work for me to do. Sister took one look at my mom and her usually spotless and amazingly organized home, called her Order and said “my family is in crisis I need to stay for a while”. And stay she did. I think it was for 6 months, I know I must be wrong, but it felt like a really long time.
I loved coming home and Sister would have made soup and spaetzle
or fresh bread, or Jam Jams ( the most amazing cookie is the world!). The house always smelled scrumptious. I would hear about special crafts that she would do with my sister. Watch her help my brother with homework every night. She would help me with needle work or crochet work that I was learning to do. She could untangle ANYTHING from gold chains to yarn. To me, all that was missing was a tea party on the ceiling. We loved her to bits. Just never ask her to pray for you.
Every time she said a prayer to some patron saint, something would go horribly wrong. Bringing a cake to my Grandma’s for dinner. Sister said a prayer to the patron saint of cakes. The Cake ended up on the dashboard. Every time she said, “I will say a prayer”, we all yelled NO! She would laugh….pray anyway and some horrible plague would befall the family.
I often wonder if the stress of that time would have been too much for my parents to over come. Luckily we never needed to find out. I’m sad my children never got to meet her. However her legacy of amazingness lives on. She taught my and my siblings so much, but more then that she taught kindness, compassion and the meaning of family first.
Every time I make soup I smile.