Monthly Archives: December 2013

Last weekend my brother, sister-in-law, and I took their boys to Flagstaff for the day.  We ate lunch at Beaver Street Brewery, home to my absolute favorite hamburger (My brother and I have a friendly “agree to disagree” about this.),  and had a snowball fight, which I would like to say I won, but then I’d be lying.  After I surrendered the snowball fight, we turned the car home toward Phoenix.  On the way back, we stopped at Rock Creek Café for pie.  If you question the need for this detour in our sojourn, you either have never had the pie at Rock Creek Café, or your taste buds are faulty, my friend.

So, we sat there in the historic waystop, pie and coffee on the table, silence befalling our party except for the occasional sigh of contentment.  I believe it may have been a collective pie stupor.  Then Auz, my 10 year-old nephew, did the unthinkable; he pushed his pie plate away announcing he was “full.”  We adults stared at him aghast, but Z, Auz’s 6 year-old brother, practically shimmied with excitement.

“Can I have it?” Z asked.

This was unprecedented.  Someone, anyone, could not finish their amazing pie?  And it was chocolate cream pie, at that, the holy grail of pies.  We, the grownups, looked at each other.  Could we, in good conscience, allow a 6 year-old to consume two pieces of pie?  Ahhhh, but there was a bigger issue at stake.  Could we permit a perfectly good piece of Rock Creek chocolate cream pie to go unfinished?  The decision was clear.  My brother and his wife exchanged that spousal look that says “You know you know what I’m thinking, or at least you better pretend to know,” while I nodded my approval.

My brother cleared his throat.  “Z, you may have the pie.” (Please don’t judge us.  It was chocolate cream.)

Z reached for his brother’s pie.  “Come to poppa,” he exclaimed gleefully. Continue reading →

Breath of heaven, hold me together, be forever near me, breath of heaven.  Breath of heaven, lighten my darkness, pour over me your holiness, for you are holy.

Sometimes God comes quietly, gently, peacefully.  Sometimes He reaches out and brushes the tears from your cheek with the slightest touch of his hand in a whisper that breathes to your heart that you are strong enough to survive your storm, that you will be okay.  But sometimes, well, sometimes there is no whisper of a touch, no whisper to your heart, and you are left wondering.  You are left hurting.

Fall on your knees.  Oh, hear the angel voices.  Oh, night divine.  Oh, night, when Christ was born.  Oh, night divine.  Oh, night divine. Continue reading →

The other day, I made apple butter in my Crock Pot.  Those unfamiliar with the gloriousness that is apple butter, think apple pie on a spoon.  Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and apples in a thick brown concoction that bursts warm Autumn sunshine on your tongue.  It’s that good, but then I’m a long-term devotee.  I guess you’d have to taste it to be convinced.

Anyway, I peeled the apples then cut them into chunks.  I dropped the apples into the ceramic bowl of the slow cooker then added the apple juice, sugar and spices, just as I always do.  I set the cooker’s timer on low for many, many hours and waited.  Soon I was tantalized by the delicious scent of cooking apples wafting through the rooms of my home, and I could picture the apple butter on my spoon making its way to my mouth. But, alas, it would be several hours before I could enjoy the fruits of my labor; I had to wait.  So, I did – wait and wait and wait and wait.  After eight hours, I poured the whole hot, steaming lot into my blender and whirred it down to the consistency of applesauce then back into my Crock Pot it sloshed to cook off more liquid.  Finally, ten hours after I had begun the process, my apple butter was ready.  And was I ready to try it!

I scooped up a bite and joyfully brought it to my mouth.  As I sipped at the flavors, I patted myself on the back.  I had hit just the right notes of spice and sweet.  A thrill jolted through me – until , disaster! There was a slight crunch.  In case you’re wondering, there should be no crunch.  It’s “butter” – crunchy “butter” is never a good thing. Continue reading →

Last week Despair roared in and didn’t leave.  No, instead it sat hulking over me dripping and shedding little bits of grim and gloom throughout the long, long, long 7 days.  No matter what I did, no matter how I tried to pep-talk myself out of my blue funk, my unwanted visitor refused to by pried loose.  Nope, Despair laughed its mirthless, foul taunt and remained.  FAB-U-LOUS.

So, what was so bad about last week?  Nothing huge, just lots of little things, and when you look at the whole it felt overwhelming.  (I’m sort of a “big picture” gal anyway, and perhaps that’s  the problem.)  So, to start, it was the anniversary of the pin pulling on my marriage.  Yep, that house of cards fell a year ago (I am aware that I am mixing my metaphors.  Let’s pretend that it works.).  I didn’t think it would get to me as much as it did, but, even though I know it was the absolute right decision, my heart breaks just a bit.  Then, there was the anniversary of the Sandy Hook tragedy that we all share.  Also, health stuff that you just can’t run from – and boy do I keep trying.  And heartaches of friends that I wish so desperately to heal for them, but, of course, cannot.  Add on that everything in the house seems to be breaking at once, and there is no money to replace it – not big stuff, just lots of little things that I use every day – UGH!!!  (Insert Deep Sigh Here.) Am I whining? Don’t answer that. Continue reading →

My brother, M, built a beautiful fire pit in his back yard.  If you do not live in the desert you may not understand an arid climate dweller’s fascination with the fire pit.  How to explain?

You see, in the summer, when it seems that the temperatures will never again fall into the double digits, and that I will never again be able to touch the car steering wheel without oven mitts, my heart longs for cold – anything cold.  Ice, lemonade, freezer burn – it doesn’t matter.  Then comes the third week of October, (Yes, feel free to be appropriately horrified.  Summer extends May through October in Arizona.)  and you hear a collective sigh of relief from Bisbee clear up to Camp Verde.  The daytime temperatures become livable, and the night stars emerge gorgeous.  I believe we enter into an agreed upon collective amnesia about those triple digits we suffered May through, oh, Halloween, and delight in the beautiful weather we are now experiencing.  Now for the fire pit stuff.

Arizonans spend 6 months in their homes trying to out wait the heat.  So, the rest of the year, we are tenacious about being outside.  If you go to a restaurant on a damp, chilly  January evening the patio will be still be open, and we will still be gathered on it.  Heaters may be scattered around in a feeble attempt to bring the air temp up a bit, and people may be huddled in their coats, teeth chattering between bites, but darn it, we’ll be outside.  To be fair, you often find “snowbirds” out on the patios, as well, and they don’t notice our “cold” at all because they’re from places like Saskatoon or Yellow Knife.  They laugh at us, see our piddly little 50° and offer to raise us a -30°.  No thank you; I’ll huddle in my coat beside the heater and stop complaining – maybe even remember to wear gloves next time. Continue reading →

I love working with children, especially the ones under six years old.  They come up with some of the funniest things, some of which I wish I could “un-hear,” some of which I’m sure their parents would hide under the nearest table out of utter mortification if I repeated.

Today we held the annual Angel Breakfast at my church, where the children 5-years old and under came dressed in their pajamas bringing any pancake toppings they like and an incidental parent.  The kids made a craft, sang Christmas songs, listened to a Christmas story, and ate as many pancakes covered in things like whipped cream, chocolate chips, candy sprinkles, blueberries, and syrup as they could before we released them back out into the cool desert sunshine to run off all that sugar.  I looked forward to Angel Breakfast all year.  In fact, I could safely say it was my favorite Kids Ministry event even beating out Vacation Bible School.mm Continue reading →

Thanksgiving turkey stupors have passed; Black Friday madness has found its way onto YouTube, and I have still not had green bean casserole.  The casserole will have to wait because it is now time – the month I wait 11 others for has now arrived.  (If you lived in my head you, too, would hear the trumpets heralding.) December – time to decorate for the arrival of the King (not Elvis).

I am one of those people who steadfastly refuses to hang even so much as a strand of tinsel prior to Thanksgiving’s close no matter how many retailers try to springboard off the Halloween candy bowl right over the turkey onto the waiting boughs of the Christmas tree.  Nope – I want three distinct holidays.  Actually, I want two distinct holidays; I could completely skip Halloween as I am a complete and total wimp; I, in fact, embrace my wimpiness.  But Thanksgiving and Christmas – those I adore.

Decking the halls requires a certain ambiance – Christmas music, soft lighting, hot tea, flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers.  Even if the thermometer outside reads 70, I’m still wearing the flannel and drinking the hot tea.  It’s a matter of principle.  It’s a matter of tradition. Continue reading →