Thursday, December 25, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Little Women
I have loved to read all my life and have several favorite books. Among those, Little Women, is perhaps my favorite. I read it for the first time when I was about 10 years old. I think it was a Christmas gift from my mother, who was also quite a reader whenever she had the time to devote to it. I loved all the characters in the book - prim Meg, rambunctious Jo, the baby Amy, but my favorite was the gentle, frail Beth. I cannot count the tears I shed when she quietly passed away and was so sorely missed by one and all. I have read it several times since then, the latest being this past weekend, and Beth remains my favorite.
About the same time I was given the book, my mother was expecting her third child. I wanted her to name a girl Beth in the worst way and we had many discussions about the name. She finally said she really didn't care for it. But when my sister was born, she was given the name Lorna Bethany. I was overjoyed.
My sister was a lot like Beth - quiet, gentle, and longing to please. As an adult she was quite devoted to her Lord, Jesus, and gave off a childlike radiance to all around her. She, too, was somewhat frail as she became a diabetic at the age of 25. For 30 years she tried to tame the disease with intermittent success, only to have several serious complications over the past few years. She, like Beth, seemed to become more transparent as the disease claimed more and more of her strength. She passed away this past July.
As I reread a library copy of Little Women, I couldn't help but feel that I was given my own Beth in my sister. My tears stained the pages when Beth died. And I realize too late that I did not appreciate the goodness and the gentleness that was my sister.
About the same time I was given the book, my mother was expecting her third child. I wanted her to name a girl Beth in the worst way and we had many discussions about the name. She finally said she really didn't care for it. But when my sister was born, she was given the name Lorna Bethany. I was overjoyed.
My sister was a lot like Beth - quiet, gentle, and longing to please. As an adult she was quite devoted to her Lord, Jesus, and gave off a childlike radiance to all around her. She, too, was somewhat frail as she became a diabetic at the age of 25. For 30 years she tried to tame the disease with intermittent success, only to have several serious complications over the past few years. She, like Beth, seemed to become more transparent as the disease claimed more and more of her strength. She passed away this past July.
As I reread a library copy of Little Women, I couldn't help but feel that I was given my own Beth in my sister. My tears stained the pages when Beth died. And I realize too late that I did not appreciate the goodness and the gentleness that was my sister.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Another Christmas Tree Tale
In 1968 we were in Southern California for Christmas with Eric who was about 6 weeks old. Steve was still in the Navy attached to the Marine Corps at Camp Pendleton. We had not been there long enough to make friends so Christmas was looking pretty lonely.
About a week before Christmas we received a large package. It was a tube about four feet long and about 8-12 inches around. It was from Carl, my father-in-law. Now Carl is quite a character and worked in the woods as a timber cruiser. He knew the whole Umpqua Forest like the back of his hand and could find his way out if he had been plunked down blindfolded anywhere in the thousands of square miles. Of course, he got lost in the city, but he knew the woods well. He had never been to Southern California but knew it was not the forest and that Christmas trees were trucked down from Washington and Oregon weeks before the big day. So, he SENT us a Christmas tree from the Umpqua National Forest in that large tube package. It smelled just like home. We put it up that night and decorated it with the few ornaments we had. I don't think I have ever appreciated a Christmas tree before or since as much as I did that little tree from home. Thank you, Carl
About a week before Christmas we received a large package. It was a tube about four feet long and about 8-12 inches around. It was from Carl, my father-in-law. Now Carl is quite a character and worked in the woods as a timber cruiser. He knew the whole Umpqua Forest like the back of his hand and could find his way out if he had been plunked down blindfolded anywhere in the thousands of square miles. Of course, he got lost in the city, but he knew the woods well. He had never been to Southern California but knew it was not the forest and that Christmas trees were trucked down from Washington and Oregon weeks before the big day. So, he SENT us a Christmas tree from the Umpqua National Forest in that large tube package. It smelled just like home. We put it up that night and decorated it with the few ornaments we had. I don't think I have ever appreciated a Christmas tree before or since as much as I did that little tree from home. Thank you, Carl
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
A Post Office Adventure
A couple days ago I received a notice that the usps had tried to deliver a package to me but no one was home, except Freckles who was unable to accept said package. The notice stated that I could pick up the package at the main post office on 12/16. A trip to the main downtown post office is never a treat and especially dicey at this time of year. There is parking only in front of the post office and it is angle in parking - it's a fairly busy street so backing out of a parking space, especially when at least half of the vehicles are full sized pick-ups, is an adventure. So I decided that since the package was from one of my Japanese friends, I would try it after work yesterday.
We finished up with the last patient about 4:00pm. As I was clocking out one of the receptionists asked me if I had heard about the bomb scare at the post office today. WHAT? A BOMB SCARE ON THE ONE DAY I WANTED TO GO TO THE POST OFFICE? Yep, she looked at the news on-line and said.....oh, it's over and the post office opened back up about an hour ago. So.....I headed out. As expected, it was busy and there was a line almost out the door. But, people were in a holiday mood and no one was griping and the lady in front of me jabbered on about how she shopped sales all year long to get gifts for her family who was scattered far and wide. Finally, it was my turn and I got my package, backed safely out of the parking place and got home.
The news paper reported that a suitcase was left in the lobby of the PO and since the bomb scare with the blow-up and death of two policemen in Woodburn had happened only a few days before, the police were taking no chances. It took 3 hours and the evacuation of the post office and an adjacent bank for them to discover that it was just a suitcase. They notified the owner who came and picked it up and rolled it away. How can someone forget a suitcase in the lobby of a post office?
I'm just glad it wasn't a bomb and that I got my package from Japan.
We finished up with the last patient about 4:00pm. As I was clocking out one of the receptionists asked me if I had heard about the bomb scare at the post office today. WHAT? A BOMB SCARE ON THE ONE DAY I WANTED TO GO TO THE POST OFFICE? Yep, she looked at the news on-line and said.....oh, it's over and the post office opened back up about an hour ago. So.....I headed out. As expected, it was busy and there was a line almost out the door. But, people were in a holiday mood and no one was griping and the lady in front of me jabbered on about how she shopped sales all year long to get gifts for her family who was scattered far and wide. Finally, it was my turn and I got my package, backed safely out of the parking place and got home.
The news paper reported that a suitcase was left in the lobby of the PO and since the bomb scare with the blow-up and death of two policemen in Woodburn had happened only a few days before, the police were taking no chances. It took 3 hours and the evacuation of the post office and an adjacent bank for them to discover that it was just a suitcase. They notified the owner who came and picked it up and rolled it away. How can someone forget a suitcase in the lobby of a post office?
I'm just glad it wasn't a bomb and that I got my package from Japan.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Christmas Dinner
My father's family is English. His father came to this country from Liverpool as a young adult. His mother grew up in Wales in the home of her grandparents. She joined her mother in NYC when she was only 17 or 18. So, our Christmas menu was a typically English one prepared by my grandmother.
First, there was the most marvelous roast beef - that according to my father was purchased from the same butcher in New York and had hung until there was green mold on the outside. I think I'm really glad I didn't know this as a child or I might not have eaten it with such relish. With the roast there was always Yorkshire Pudding - a light egg batter that was baked at high heat in some of the fat from the roast. Mashed potatoes, gravy, a couple vegetables and crisp carrots and celery rounded out the main meal.
The crowning glory of the feast was dessert - a plum pudding, which is neither made from plums nor is a pudding in the truest sense. It was made in early November of suet, candied citron and other fruit, currants, white raisins and spices which were steamed for several hours and then saturated with brandy and wrapped in white linen. It was stored in a bowl in a cool place where it was regularly moistened with more brandy. On Christmas Day it was placed in a pot with water in the bottom on the stove to steam until heated through. When it was time to serve it, there was more brandy poured over it after it was placed on a heat resistant platter and brought to the table in flames. When the alcohol was burned out of the brandy the flames subsided and the pudding was served with hard sauce (which was not hard but was also flavored strongly with more brandy). The sauce was made of butter, confectioner's sugar and vanilla flavoring. As a child I really didn't like the plum pudding but would eat it because I LOVED the hard sauce. Later I developed a taste for it and really enjoyed it's fruity texture and flavor. I have never tried to make it so the tradition died when my mother was no longer able to make it using my grandmother's recipe and adding some touches of her own.
First, there was the most marvelous roast beef - that according to my father was purchased from the same butcher in New York and had hung until there was green mold on the outside. I think I'm really glad I didn't know this as a child or I might not have eaten it with such relish. With the roast there was always Yorkshire Pudding - a light egg batter that was baked at high heat in some of the fat from the roast. Mashed potatoes, gravy, a couple vegetables and crisp carrots and celery rounded out the main meal.
The crowning glory of the feast was dessert - a plum pudding, which is neither made from plums nor is a pudding in the truest sense. It was made in early November of suet, candied citron and other fruit, currants, white raisins and spices which were steamed for several hours and then saturated with brandy and wrapped in white linen. It was stored in a bowl in a cool place where it was regularly moistened with more brandy. On Christmas Day it was placed in a pot with water in the bottom on the stove to steam until heated through. When it was time to serve it, there was more brandy poured over it after it was placed on a heat resistant platter and brought to the table in flames. When the alcohol was burned out of the brandy the flames subsided and the pudding was served with hard sauce (which was not hard but was also flavored strongly with more brandy). The sauce was made of butter, confectioner's sugar and vanilla flavoring. As a child I really didn't like the plum pudding but would eat it because I LOVED the hard sauce. Later I developed a taste for it and really enjoyed it's fruity texture and flavor. I have never tried to make it so the tradition died when my mother was no longer able to make it using my grandmother's recipe and adding some touches of her own.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
The Best Christmas Present Ever
I must have been about 8 or 9 years old. The only gift I remember wanting that year was a Bride Doll. I don't have any idea how I even knew that such a doll existed. But I wanted one with a veil and a gorgeous full length gown. It would have beads and pearls on the front and down the full skirt. Her hair would be curled just so and she would be exquisitely beautiful. I just knew that Santa (or my grandmother) would provide me with my dearest wish.
Christmas morning came and my brother and I could hardly wait to look under the tree. But first we had to check to see if Santa found the milk and cookies we had left for him. And then we found our stockings that had to be dumped out and all the treasures gone through. At that point we were bursting with anticipation. That was always when my father decided he had to have a cup of coffee and we had to eat a piece of Christmas bread and have a glass of juice.
Finally, we were able to check out the presents under the tree. There was a box for me that was just about the right size, oh, the joy!!!! I tore into the paper and squealed with glee when I found the PERFECT bride doll inside. She was everything I wanted her to be and then some. She was given a place of honor in my room and no one was allowed to touch her without my permission.
I don't remember what happened to that precious doll. Perhaps she was passed on to my little sister years later. But I think I still had her when we moved to Montana and she was lost in the moving van fire. I don't recall receiving any other gift as a child that was as special.
Christmas morning came and my brother and I could hardly wait to look under the tree. But first we had to check to see if Santa found the milk and cookies we had left for him. And then we found our stockings that had to be dumped out and all the treasures gone through. At that point we were bursting with anticipation. That was always when my father decided he had to have a cup of coffee and we had to eat a piece of Christmas bread and have a glass of juice.
Finally, we were able to check out the presents under the tree. There was a box for me that was just about the right size, oh, the joy!!!! I tore into the paper and squealed with glee when I found the PERFECT bride doll inside. She was everything I wanted her to be and then some. She was given a place of honor in my room and no one was allowed to touch her without my permission.
I don't remember what happened to that precious doll. Perhaps she was passed on to my little sister years later. But I think I still had her when we moved to Montana and she was lost in the moving van fire. I don't recall receiving any other gift as a child that was as special.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Visit with Santa
Since my grandmother, Mimi, was employed at A & S department store in NYC, we visited with the santa at the store each December. The date on the back of this photo is 1950 which means that I am 8yrs. old and my brother is 6. My mother wrote on the back that this was our last visit to Santa. We must have decided that he was a nice fantasy by the next year.
It was really magical to visit the city at Christmas. The decorations in the big department stores were fabulous. Each window had animated displays and there were lights strung outside in swags, and trees and santas. And the Santa at A&S was the real deal - no fake beard for him. At least, that's the way I remember it.
We also went to the automat to eat - no it wasn't a place to wash clothes, but was a bit like a cafeteria. Each item of food was behind a little door and you put your change in and you could open the door and take out a sandwich, a piece of fruit, a salad, dessert......whatever was behind that particular door. It was so much fun.
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