Cranberry Chutney & Home-made Honey Mustard Dressing

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I looked back and found their hands intertwined. 

Preparing food for this Lord’s Day feast- and in some way- feeling like every Sunday should be a mini-Thanksgiving with gratitude to God round a bountiful, delicious table:

Cranberry Chutney

(delicious, warm, seasonal side for pork or chicken; can be served over pancakes or dairy items like Brie or ice cream – if you eat those items)

4 Cups cranberries

3 chopped, green apples

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup honey

1 cup water

2 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tsp ground ginger

1/2 tsp ground cloves

Combine all ingredients in a crockpot; cook on high until apples are soft. Reduce heat to low and cook until thickened. Keep warm in crock.

Enjoy!

Home-Made Honey Mustard Dressing for Sunday’s Green Salad

[this has a kick (or a bit of a bite- as they say) to it which Todd and I love]

1/3 cup Dijon mustard

1/4 cup honey

1/4 cup apple cider vinegar

shake of good sea salt

dash of ground black pepper

heaping 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

Mix well and serve over greens

Sweet and Spicy!

 

Blessings on this Lord’s Day!

 

 

 

 

As way leads on to way (Robert Frost)

Blog of my heart (and dear, welcomed reader), I am here. Committed more than ever to write. O, the quiet moments with hot drink beside and writing my way to peace.

I have a jumble of posts in mind and in drafts… and so much longing to … is it eke out? or unleash? or scribe? or scratch down? I don’t know. So much longing to gather myself to post.

So I begin with some poetry and the way connections can ignite learning. And the gentle way Morning Meeting leads us:

We recently had the wonderful experience of learning new vocabulary words in a vivid and personal way: alms and almoner. (and I thought I knew what these words meant… but it took an inquisitive question from a child to fully unveil meanings)  It all started like this:

We read this poem for October by Longfellow:

Autumn

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o’er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven’s o’erhanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer’s prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

(And O! we were heralded by the rain! Incessant rain. Unending rain. So much rain, the color came late and felt so sparse.

And the greatest riches found in these delicious words- both the poem above and the poem below. Richness, Color, Life. Gentle, un-pressured reading of the beautiful words is life-giving.)

Then a little while later, through a happy circumstance, I happened upon this:

ALMS IN AUTUMN

Spindle-wood, spindle-wood, will you lend me, pray,
A little flaming lantern to guide me on my way?
The fairies all have vanished from the meadow and the glen,
And I would fain go seeking till I find them once again.
Lend me now a lantern that I may bear a light
To find the hidden pathway in the darkness of the night.

Ash-tree, ash-tree, throw me, if you please,
Throw me down a slender branch of russet-gold keys.
I fear the gates of Fairyland may all be shut so fast
That nothing but your magic keys will ever take me past.
I’ll tie them to my girdle, and as I go along
My heart will find a comfort in the tinkle of their song.

Holly-bush, holly-bush, help me in my task,
A pocketful of berries is all the alms I ask :
A pocketful of berries to thread in golden strands
(I would not go a-visiting with nothing in my hands).
So fine will be the rosy chains, so gay, so glossy bright,
They’ll set the realms of Fairyland all dancing with delight.

ROSE FYLEMAN

 

My young son asked: what is an alm? And so we did a little research and discovered: alms are charity, money, or food given to the needy; gifts given to relieve the poor

and this led to the exploration of almoner: the official chaplain or church officer who distributes the gifts to the poor; also a prince can have an almoner.

And both these poems suddenly came vividly alive to us. And with that wild leap of connection that poetry offers: we are realizing- the wind is our almoner; the alms of autumn are for us:

The wind- scattering the golden leaves to us- the needy ones.

The Alms of Autumn: pocketful of russet berries (and so much more)

(O, how the beauty of Autumn is an alm for the needy heart- and o!the wind as almoner.)

And so– way leads on to way. The poetry way. The most gentle, rich, and textured way to learn poetry is simply to read it every day. I find nuanced meanings become clearer and clearer- writing themselves on mind and heart- until they become a treasure trove of mind and heart… (how we all spout out: O wind a- blowing all day long! O wind who sings so loud a song! on a blustery windy day- just because we spent slow time in those rhythmic words)

Blessings on your school year,

Rebecca

 

 

How it Feels

written the week after Micah went to school; photo from Family Weekend a couple weeks ago
How it Feels:
Standing on the Verge of Kindergarten 
While Saying Goodbye
to my new college freshman.
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We’ve already begun. Miss K5 and I. A gentle, tottering start into her first official year. while so many, many other things swirl around fiercely. Read: seven other students and grade levels. Three in high school (again). Pretty much always. From now on.

The yawning ache in my heart overflows my eyes and suddenly, all I am seeing is a wavering mist. 

And that is what it is. A wavering mist- but a treasured, priceless, incredibly important mist, at that.
Looking at the investment before me in my wee, small girl, I can’t help but be informed by this “ending” I have faced- and indeed, am facing again, again.
It is all too much for me. It is too big for me. I am too small, weak, inadequate.
It feels like a blink. It feels unrelentingly daunting.
Every day is different. And this K; this kindergarten is SO VERY different from Kindergarten in 2004.
The best I can give is myself. The best of myself.
It feels like birth- when I was torn asunder for new life, Again, again.
It feels scary like when I bravely begin the next hard task before me. Again, again.
It feels exciting like gazing at the beautiful, lit horizon glancing gold too beautiful and yet too mysterious to see.
The books are what choke me. It is the bookshelf gazing at me with every fierce remembrance. My hand resting upon this one, my gaze- upon that one.
The stories told down all the many years.
He will read new books now. There are new horizons stretching before him.

I think I need to read some books of my own. 

But I will always remember. And I fight valiantly to build such a heritage with my little clan. The days slip away. It is hard. Everything changes.
Life is too big for me. I take a weary step. Every yes is a no. What are my yes’s, what are my no’s?
One thing I know: I say yes, again, again, again to every face gifted into this life of mine: Todd, and each precious child.

She’s Five

My darling turned five today (3.8) and this post is for her, not for me, although I so desperately want to write the post that is for me- the one that reflects on the reality of leaving the preschool years behind (for now… what hopeful words those are….for now) and the heart full and mind overwhelming stage I find myself in. How is it that you can look back on your own self with such nostalgia? But I do.

But for her… this day…

 

was full of three, small chirping girlies….

-and there was one who struggled a bit to find happiness in her sister’s special day. After a personal struggle, she managed to turn it around- I am grateful to say- and it is noteworthy- because said girl recognized it, reflected on it, and remarked on her turn-around later (during the cookie party).  She chose what was good. I am so glad.

 

It was full of a slow, unfolding delight.

 

Special Breakfast: Cinnamon Roll Biscuits, Scrambled Eggs, Berries

 

Birthday song and Pictures

 

Her choice of hymn: Go Tell It On The Mountain

A stab at a birthday poem: we settled for Now We Are Six.

It wasn’t quite …but we made do.

A blessing.

 

A birthday gift (or two)

 

Long hours at play

 

The start of a new chapter book at rest time- and what SOLID delight to begin Misty of Chincoteague!

 

A whirlwind spin outside in the cold (for them, not me)

 

Everyone- all of us (minus Todd) home all. day.  All day.  I don’t think I fully realized this until now, and I certainly didn’t make the most of this. But, now, in this moment- I realize.

 

A drive out to Boy Scouts and four I love playing “I Spy” all the way home…

 

Her dinner: Hot dogs and rolls, chips, carrots, cucumbers, peppers, special sauce, raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries. Lemonade.

 

A bubble bath (with jets that somehow ramped the experience up to the best day of the whole year! and rocketed me into best Mommy position!)

 

Tiny painted toes

 

A Cookie Celebration Party and Lemonade in blue polka dot tea cups

 

The Promise of a Family Party on Sunday with Gifts, and Cake, and Pizza, and Popcorn.

 

Elenorah.

 

She’s Five.

 

 

 

A Panagram- by Micah

Today, I was preparing to write this blog post- feeling in my heart that it was time to share a link to some of Micah’s creative writing. Then discovered later today that he won four regional awards for four writing pieces in the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. It is fitting indeed. 

Micah has been taking Creative Writing through The Potter’s School this year. It has been a wonderful “capstone” class for his senior year; one that he has thoroughly enjoyed and has helped sharpen his abilities.

Throughout the course, students build a blog to showcase their work and interact with their classmates. They submit assignments through their study place account and also post them on their blogs.

I have often pondered sharing a link or two-

but today, I was delighted to read one of his latest assignments- A Panagram.

And so, I would like to share this piece here via a link (with his permission) to his own personal writing space.

~Rebecca

Happy New Year!!

Tonight, we feast, relax, hang-out, party, enjoy, love, laugh, and play. We celebrate!

Happy New Year!!!

 

Menu

Venison meatballs in a sweet soy sauce over white rice

Shrimp and (hot) cocktail sauce

Wings

Super-pretzels

Re-fried Bean Dip and Chips

Daiya Quesadillas

Sausages

Chicken tenders, Nuggets

Steak Fries and Tater Tots

Broccoli Salad

Veggies and Special Sauce

Sodas

For once, there are plenty! of left-overs to enjoy tomorrow. 🙂

Trusting the Lord in and for 2018. May you be blessed!

~Rebecca~

P.S.

It’s about time for Catan!! Anyone else? 🙂

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Christmas Endless Gifts

The College Application Season behind us for son number 1.

My delightful junior who is the next focus of my mind

Christmas Eve and Jingle Bells; It’s a Wonderful Life; and Shepherd’s Meal:

Potato Soup with Crumbled Bacon and Crusty Bread

Candles and Cookies

The Advent Book and Lift the Flap

their faces and their happiness

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a Christmas realization ponderings

this devotional that just ministered to my heart on Christmas Day: Christ- the Greatest Gift.

A table prepared for me with candles and sweetness and savory, too

a smooth Christmas Day drive

fairy lights

Christmas with Ama and Grandad and Christmas week theater movies and littles round the table

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the star of Bethlehem shining in the sky as I drive down 378 and reflections on a home-town

a fireside visit at a Panera- and seeing Orange Ginger Mint there!!!

a visit to Colin’s; a view and a cozy fire

a journal and a pen

~Endless Gifts- Christmas Week~