NAPTIME

"There's such a prejudice against napping in our culture.  You 'sneak a nap', 'get caught napping.'  But it's a no-cost way to keep people happy".....Bill Anthony

     Yesterday was a day with with no commitments.  And it's probably a good thing.  I have been feeling 'punky' the last couple of days and no matter what I was doing, yesterday,  I wanted to sleep.  I tape my favorite shows and  I had to rewind Regis three times. - and Orlando Bloom and Josh Groban were guests.  
     Checking e-mail this morning, coincidentally,  Dr. Andrew Weil's daily tip is Reasons to Nap.  He says that studies on sleep and the opinions of experts are convincing: napping has value.  Those who nap are generally in better mental health and mental efficiency.  And their nighttime sleep is better as well.  He continues that finding time to rest in our society is not easy.  We are bombarded with more and more stimulation.
     A lot of the world, takes a break in the afternoon.  In Italy for example, every thing closes down from Noon to three.  In the movie Avanti, the hotel manager tells Jack Lemmon that they take that time to eat, rest and make love and then in the evening they go home to their wives.

.     Dr. Weil asks us to consider the following:                 
                     Accept napping as a positive thing - it can make a day more
                                productive
                     Do not fight the body's desire to nap
                     Take naps when you can - as a passenger in a car, train or 
                                airplane
                     Consider time and duration - find what length and schedule 
                                 works for you
                     Napping can mean just taking a break - lying in a hammock or 
                                 just staring into space is the essence of rest.  It is  
                                 not doing that refreshes you in body and mind.

"There is more refreshment and stimulation in a nap, even the briefest, than in all the alcohol ever distilled." .....Ovid

      After all that sleep yesterday, I'm expecting to do great things today.
                                     God bless! 

Cashew Chicken - Southern Style

     Many years ago when we were visiting Vern's sister, Mary Lorene and her husband, Claude - one of my favorite people, but that's another story - in  Springfield, Missouri, we went to dinner at a Chinese Restaurant.  My only experience with Chinese food was my mother's home made Chop Suey and so I was a little leery about a whole restaurant of Asian food.  Mary suggested I try the Cashew Chicken.  She explained it was the cooks own recipe.  In an area where he was competing with everything "southern fried", he had decided to 'go with the flow' and change his recipe.  I loved it and whenever we were in Springfield and I got a chance, we went to that restaurant.  And now whenever I see Cashew Chicken on a buffet or restaurant, I check, but it is not the same.
     So over the years, since going to Missouri entailed a several hour trip, I put together my own version.  This was one of Vern and Leah's favorites.

Dissolve enough corn starch in water for your size family.  

Add to melting butter in skillet.

Stir to form a roux.

Add chicken broth to make a  gravy

Add frozen breaded chicken bits and heat until sauce starts bubbling again.

Chop green onions

Chop cashews

 Cooked rice

Serve chicken and sauce over rice.  Add green onions and cashews as you like.

     I usually served this with canned pineapple as a side.  This is a great cool weather meal.  Fast and simple.  Enjoy!!

  

UTOPIA

Found this while cleaning out files.  Written for a Lit class in 1993, my idea of utopia. Still sounds good.

     In a land of shade and soft breezes, where the air is clear and smells of after-rain, lives a tall, slender woman.  She wears long flowing pastel printed dresses and large straw hats.  Sometimes she goes barefoot in the summer grass as she walks among the flowers in her garden.  What a profusion of flowers there are.  Weeds never grow here.  When flowers are picked for a bouquet, within moments a new bud will blossom on the stalk.  Magnificent roses, the size of saucers, can be broken off with a slight pinch and there are never any thorns.  Neither are there crawly things in this garden, or animals of any kind, except for those wonderful traveling times when they are part of the landscape.

      Now the woman who lives here has a wonderful ability.  With the snap of her fingers she can travel anywhere in the universe she wants to go.  A trip to the Grand Canyon can be done in an instant.  No planes or long dusty car rides.  And if she wants a friend or family to come along, they too can be there in an instant and enjoy the sites as well.  Often she goes to places on her own, to see the great Cathedrals of Europe or wander through the giant Redwoods and sometimes even travel to a distant star and view the  earth from far away.

      Again with a snap of her fingers,  anyone in history she would like to know more about will come.  Imagine having a one on one with Napoleon or Joan of Arc or Robert E. Lee or sometimes all of them together.  Those times, she mostly sits and listens and absorbs as they interact with each other.  The best part of this ability of hers is she can conjure up persons from fiction and the authors who created them.  One time she watched fascinated as Margaret Mitchell, Scarlett O'Hara and Vivian Leigh sat in her garden, drinking mint laced bourbon and swapping stories and telling outrageous Southern lies.

   Her children and grandchildren come and go as she chooses, bringing warm kisses and laughter but never staying too long.  Her husband walks with her in the evenings and takes her dancing and brings her lovely jewels that she never wears. 

      My imaginary place,....if I could just master snapping my fingers.

Tony, Tony, Look Around...

Tony, Tony, look around
Somethings lost that must be found.

The above is the prayer to St. Anthony, the patron saint of things lost.  About two or three months ago, I lost a  gold chain with a Florentine cameo and  a St. Brigid's cross on it.  It is a favorite and I was sure I had just mislaid it.  Searched everywhere but just couldn't find it.  That prayer has been on my lips many times during that time period.
This morning, getting ready for 6:30 Mass, I decided to wear a necklace and in a tangle of pearls and chains and beads, was my chain.  In a place I never would have put it, how did it get there, only Tony knows.  I thanked God - and St. Anthony - many times this morning and couldn't help but think it was a blessing for how I've been feeling the last couple of days.
When I started this blog, I didn't intend to write everyday, but yesterday, I was still the age I am but barely "holding on".  Finding my most favorite chain has restored not only something I cherish but my good nature.  When I stood on the back sidewalk before going into the garage this morning, I noticed the sky, not black but navy blue and dotted with morning stars and I thought:  "This is going to be a good day".  Aren't we creatures an interesting lot, one day dragging along and the next day, because of a small incident, we are once again feeling the goodness of God.  The best part is that He was here both days.  God bless!!

Introspective

    The last couple of days, have been filled with soul-searching.  Two women I know have died of Lung Cancer in the last three days.  Both of them diagnosed after I was.  When our friend, Russ died in May - we were diagnosed on the same day - I felt the same way. I'm probably dealing with 'survivor's remorse'.  Survivors of fatal crashes sometimes experience it.  When talking to daughter Mary, she said, as did her sister, Alissa: "God's got something for you to do yet".  Well maybe...but the question remains:  When will the other shoe drop?
Looking for solace, I found this prayer by Thomas Merton:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me.

Pea Gravy

      Rita was my best friend in high school.  She lived across the side street from Lincoln Library and I lived on Millman St.  She would walk over to my house or I to hers and we would stop on the corner on Howett - half way - and talk and talk and then each of us would go our own way back home.  After  school days were done, I got married - at 19 - and Rita remained working at Caterpillar.  We grew out of touch, only seeing each other on occasion until she retired and we became docents at St.  Mary's Cathedral here in Peoria.  When we were doing a tour and I would introduce her, my line was: "I got married and had six children and Rita remained single and had six trips to Europe."  Every year during Cat vacation, Rita took a trip to an exotic locale.  Our Cat vacations were a week at Al's Point Resort in Tomahawk, Wisconsin and the second week visiting Vern's folks in Missouri.  But that's another story.
   In 1993, Rita told me of a pilgrimage that was going to seven countries in 23 days and would I be interested.  Absolutely!!  My chance of a lifetime.  Vern said go and on July 14 we left JFK for London - our first stop.  In the Coliseum in Rome, I hugged Rita and said: "Who ever thought,  standing on that corner of Howett Street, that some day we would be standing here"!  An awesome, awesome memory.
   One of the places we visited was Geneva, Switzerland.  After Paris and London, it seemed more modern looking.  I noted that there was a lot of graffiti on walls and fences and such.  We saw a man on the street wearing lederhosen,  a short cape, big boots and knee socks and  a hat with a feather.  I was sure that the older bearded gentleman could have been Heidi's grandfather.
   We spent one night in Switzerland and the next day on our way, passed through the six mile tunnel under Mt. Blanc that took us to Italy.   This is from the journal I kept.  "This area is beautiful.  As we approached Mt. Blanc, one side was a sheer faced wall, while the other side of the road is high sloping hills with chalets dotted around them - lots of waterfalls - probably spectacular in the spring - there are many beautiful rushing streams".
  So where am I going with this and what has all this got to do with my title?  I'm going to give you our family recipe for 

                                               Swiss Steak

A flank steak (the size for your family) Sear in hot pan on both sides.
Season to taste
A medium onion - chopped finely
16 ounces of tomato sauce   - two cans
A #303 can of LeSeuer baby peas - juice and all


Bake in a 350 degree oven until done.  


   Only use baby peas, they just work better and serve the gravy over mashed potatoes.  My sister, Judy likes Ore Ida microwave potatoes;  I like Bob Evans Mashed from the grocery cooler.  And if you are a purest, you can always peel and mash them.     Enjoy!

SIX INCH BOX

   I recently attended the funeral of a high school friend.  (at my age funerals are about all that remains of a social life.)  Wonderful service, inspiring music and the priest's homily was a comforting expression for all attending.  At the end of the service, an attendant from the funeral home walked up and bent down in front of the altar and when he stood and turned he was carrying a six inch cube sized box.  He carried the container of the deceased's ashes and the family followed behind.  End of service.
   On the way home, I began thinking about that box.  Eunice was a nicely rounded person -  not fat but curvy - and stood about 5'5" and after cremation, what was left, fit in a six inch cube.
   I have had a weight problem since I started having babies.  I gained about twenty pounds with each one, 6 times 20 means that I am now clinically obese.  And I haven't had a baby in over 45 years.   Name a diet, I have tried it.  From pretty pills to working out, over the years, I've done it all.  Results varied but never lasted.  Now, I consider myself a fairly intelligent person, but for some reason, I just don't get it when it comes to losing weight.
   To some, my weight defines me as a person; but it really doesn't, anymore than a 6 inch box defined Eunice.  I am not  just an overweight widowed mother of six with lung cancer.  But to some that's exactly who I am and they try to keep me in that "box",
    Being judgemental has always been one of my  worst traits but over the last few years - and they have been life changing - I am making an effort  to  "hear" and "see"  people I meet as well as  those that I've known for years. Could we all just stop "boxing" people.  Look at each other, not through them.   See them.  Listen to them.    The time will be soon enough, when we'll all end up in a six inch cube - or a six foot hole, your preference.  Until then, let's quit "perceiving" and start "seeing."  
   My phone message says to call back because I am either out helping Wonder Woman save the planet one person at a time or taking a nap.  And this old, overweight person could be doing either at any time.  I am never without my golden lasso!! 

WANDA SCOVIL'S PIZZA

   ON the Saturday nights my mother, Wanda, made Pizza, the word mysteriously got out and you never knew who would be sitting at the table when the oven door opened and that most basic of  American/Italian foods was cut - usually with scissors, it was years before she got a pizza cutter - and set on folded dishtowels, in the center of the Formica top table.  One of my brothers was a policeman and he and his partner would be there, Grandma Rena, lived with them so she was there, assorted cousins and Aunts who just happened by to see Grandma,  plus the Zeman's, the Christies, the Morans, and Tony & Sis Raineri.  And then there were all of us with spouses, kids, and high school siblings and their friends.  This was not the whole group every time but any combo of the above.  Russ and Wanda Scovil's house was the "gathering" spot.
   When did pizza become one of our family's favorite meals?  As I remember, it started with a friend of Uncle Jack's.  His name was Brinsco.  He lived  in Chicago and he and Jack had been in the Navy on the USS George Elliot.   On one of his visits to downstate, he made pizza - something new and exotic to a meat and potatoes family - and Mom picked up on the recipe and made it her own.
  The recipe is not written down but done "to taste" as was Mom's way of cooking.  It has been refined by other members of the family.


                                                                       PIZZA
2 1/2 cups of flour
1 cup of warm water
1 pkg of dried yeast
about a 1/4 cup vegetable oil
salt, oregano and garlic powder "to taste"

375 degree oven.  Spread Crisco on a regular size cookie sheet. 
Add together dry ingredients.
Mix yeast in warm water, add oil. 
Pour liquid in dry and mix.  Dough is sticky.
Oil hands and spread dough on cookie sheet. (Sister, Judith Anne was the first one to let it sit in the warming oven to let it dry and raise a little)
Spread one 8 oz. can of tomato sauce - Hunts has the best flavor - over dough.
Add cheese next, preferably baby swiss but whatever is in the house. (Sister, Carol puts cheese first and then sauce.  Her family prefers a light amount of sauce)
Cooked sausage crumbled finely and drained.
Peppers, onions, mushrooms - amount "to taste" - and chopped finely  and topped with grated  parmesan.
Bake about 20 minutes or until "eating good brown" (The family prefers a thin crust so your preference to thickness might make a difference in what size pan you use.  The recipe fills two round pizza pans.)

   My mother taught my sisters, Suzanne, Carol and Judy to make pizza and brother, Russ makes it.  In fact, Russ's friend, Butch Carey  - as in Butch's Pizza - told Russ he got the idea for making pizza after having it at Mom's house.  Don't know if Richard and Dave make the recipe  but she didn't teach me, but rather my husband, Vern.  So in our branch, to family and friends, it's known as Vern Mall's Pizza.  Vern liked to use a mixture of hamburger and sausage and mozzarella cheese.
   There have been times, though, when Vern Mall's Pizza was made by moi.
                        Enjoy!

New Adventures

 My theory is that everyone is entitled to my opinion... so a blog seems like the perfect vehicle.  I called my friend, Amy, who spent most of a Sunday afternoon showing me how to get started - thanks, Amy.   She is the author of a very successful blog: Writing - It's My Thing www.amykennard.com  What took the longest time to consider was what to call this column of writings, recipes and rants..  My neice, Michelle, told me in Italy at Easter that before she buys something for the house - she likes my decorating taste - she says to herself: "What would Aunt Norma do?"  Calling my blog WWND sounded a bit irreverent but when written down, it looks like the Welsh word for 'hot air', which could be appropriate.

  This has been an engaging year, with  a myriad of health issues, lots of travel and reaching the 3/4 of a century mark.  Thoroughly well seasoned, I still think I have something to express.
So, fasten your seat belts, and.......hold on!!