This past weekend, daughter Angela and I took an an amazing journey. Following are thoughts and meanderings about our trip. This is long, you might want to read it in stages.
Friday Morning: I'm 16,000 miles up in the sky, Bloomington to O'Hare where I am meeting #5 daughter for a trip to New York City. As I am flying over pale green earth - newly planted fields - and traveling in a machine that weighs several tons, I wondered just how much that first plane of Orville and Wilbur's weighed. I looked it up! Fifty pounds. A typical passenger plane today weighs over 75,000 pounds. (It's awesome what you can find out on Google). Angela had a wheel chair waiting for me so we boogied right over to our gate for NYC and in a few moments I was joined by Angela. She had booked our trip in First Class - which I always enjoy. (I left the house this morning at 8:27. Thirty five minutes to Bloomington and then thirty more to O'Hare.)
We noticed there were buttonholes on the napkins. The attendant told us that a previous President of American Airlines was notorious for spilling his meal on his ties, so his wife had a button hole added to the napkin, so his ties would stay clean. Thoughtful wife! Wanting her spouse to make a good impression. I am always wearing my food, so I am really considering that buttonhole idea.
Mary had booked us rooms at the Waldorf Astoria and so up to the tenth floor to a really lovely room. Our room overlooks St. Barts Episcopal Church. Jim, our bellman, has worked at the hotel since 1977, so he told us wonderful stories about who had lived in the hotel and some of the people he had met. He also told us that the piano in the lobby, had been in Cole Porter's suite when he lived there and after his death, it was brought downstairs. In the evening you can sit and listen to musicians, singing or playing, or both.
We got unpacked, and headed out for the evening. Cold, rainy and very windy tonight (when the daughters and I were here in 2010, it was up over 100 degrees each day, total contrast tonight)
We are going to a play in preview this evening ,"The Explorers Club", We found the Manhattan Theater between six and seventh. We were early, so we walked across the street to a darling little Italian restaurant and had 'little plates', appetisers basically, - Nonna's meatballs were exceptional. Back across the street to a cute play, funny, even silly and great fun. - The drink passing/catching scenes were hilarious. Just a funny premise. Talked to one of the actors as we were waiting for a cab and he said one particular funny scene, they had added that day. That is what 'being in preview' is about. Back to the hotel, I'm cold, so Angela ordered Jamisons and we sat in the lobby, listening to a singer, playing Cole Porter's piano and singing, "It's A Wonderful World", and sipping whiskey, what can be more New York than that?
Saturday: Big day today, Angela went out for a run this morning and brought back bagels, cream cheese w/lox, coffee and orange juice. We lazed around until 10 a.m and headed out. First stop, the ticket place on Times Square. The line went really fast. (Let me back up a little here: At Easter, I had mentioned that I had seen that a play named "A Trip to Bountiful" starring Cicely Tyson, Vanessa Williams and Cuba Gooding, Jr. was playing on Broadway. I had liked the movie made years ago, and thought seeing Miss Tyson in the role would be major. Angela said: "Let's go!" and we made plans. Lately, I have been having severe back pain and wasn't sure I'd be feeling good enough to go, but last week after a visit to the Chiropractor and a masseuse, I decided to try it. We planned to see "Bountiful", any play in preview and one of four other shows: One with Mathew Broderick, "The Nance", with Nathan Lane, "Matilda" and Angela's pick, "Kinky Boots" For me, tops was Mathew, last would have been "KB".) When we got to the ticket booth, there were only seats in the third mezzanine for "KB" and Angela was concerned about me so was going to go for "The Nance" I could see she was disappointed and told her to go ahead with "KB", I'd hang on to her. She has been so good to encourage me to do what I wanted, I hated to see her disappointed. We then walked over to the Times Square museum, saw the big ball that drops at midnight on New Years. They encourage you to write your wish for 2014 on a piece of confetti to be dropped when the ball drops. I wished for good health. Found the theater, and a restaurant around the corner - another great Italian. Sat next to a couple from New Jersey, discussed Governor Christy, had a great lunch - politics and Italian food, what could be better? Over to the theater, Seats third row from the top but they were center and good and the rows were steep. "Kinky Boots" was full of energy, one of the best musicals ever. Even that high up, you felt surrounded by the enthusiasm on stage and in the audience. Powerful! Word to Old Folks: Listen to your kids!
Afterwards, we went to the Drama Book Store. If you like theater, it's a must do. It's a one of a kind store. Bought some cool books. We couldn't find a cab, so we took a bicycle rickshaw back to the hotel. I felt every bump in the street and the gas fumes really kept me coughing. It cost $90. for the two of us, plus tip. We had talked about traveling that way and we did. Enough said!
Back to the hotel for a short rest and then back out for the reason we came, "A Trip to Bountiful". Probably half the audience was African Americans, 60s plus. The most wonderful thing happened, in the play, Cicely sings a couple of hymns and the audience, quietly at first, started to sing along. By the time, she was done with the second hymn, it was a sing-a-long, the audience full voice, beautiful and stirring, as well. I even hummed along. joyful, joyful!
What a contrast from "KB", this afternoon. But seeing this play was like seeing history, this iconic actress, overwhelming the stage. I have a lot more respect for Vanessa and Cuba as well, their parts are small and they are definitely taking a backseat to Miss Tyson. I think it says a lot about the people they must be to do this. All around, an outstanding event. Our cab karma was working after the show and back to the hotel. No drink in the lobby, we were both tired and went immediately to sleep.
Sunday: Angela out for her morning run and brought back coffee and orange juice. She said" "Mom, St. Patricks Cathedral is 800 feet from the hotel, do you think you can walk that far?" My standard answer: "As long as I can hold on to you" We made it to the side door and up the steps and we were in the front of the Church. They are doing a lot of renovation, inside and out, scaffolding everywhere. I asked the usher if there was handicap seating and he pointed to pews on the side with no view of the altar. I asked if there wasn't something where I could see the altar. Now, here I am going to sound like a bragging mother - and I am - but Angela looked beautiful. She was wearing a deep royal blue sleeveless Jackie O type dress, her hair was pulled up in a chignon and she looked quite elegant. I really think he thought she was someone important. He walked over to a couple sitting in the first row, and asked if they would make room, which they did. So we at right in front of the altar. God is good! I thanked the couple who had moved. They were Brendan and Katherine from Tipperary. His first visit to America. He represents St. Killian's Candle Company who supplies the candles for St. Patricks as well as the Cathedral in Pisa, Italy and others. I, of course, was walking with a cane and he said, the next time He was at work in a Cathedral, he would light a candle for me. Is that just the dearest thing?
We then walked behind the main altar to the crypt of Fulton Sheen. A diocesan Priest up for sainthood. If you want to visit the crypt, you must request to do so in advance. Just seeing where he is buried is cool. I told the attendant, partly joking, that we here in Peoria want the body back but New York isn't eager to send it back to his birthplace.
When we came out of Church, the Puerto Rico Day parade had started. Angela wanted to walk and she put me in a cab. The driver said that over a million people participated in the parade. it is one of the biggest of the year. it closes several streets so the parade halts, so that police and let traffic and people flow across the side streets. Lots of police presence. Angela was making better time than I was. I saw her window shopping at a Mackenzie Childs store and then a little later, be part of a crowd going around a barricade. Me I'm still idling in the cab having a nice conversation with the driver.
Back to the hotel and then a carriage ride through Central Park. Angela checked out the horses eyes and hooves before we got in one. Dermot from Ireland was our driver. I asked him if there were many Irish drivers. He said: "Ah, yes, that's the thing about Irish lads, they're either driving them or betting on them." Good tour, Saw boaters on the Lake, Strawberry Fields, which is maintained by Yoko Ono, passed the Sheeps meadow and the building that was the restaurant "Tavern on the Green" It closed a couple of years ago but is being totally redone and opening soon. Dermot said the building was originally the sheep barn. It was near perfect weather, 82 degrees. Loved the outcroppings of rocks all over.
Lunch at Rue 57. Another great restaurant.
A nap in the afternoon and then getting ready for the Tonys. When we made plans for the trip, we thought it would be great to order room service and sit in our room and watch them on TV. Angela went to the website and you could buy tickets. We decided it was too good a chance to pass up going and so buy tickets she did. The tickets said black tie - I called my friend, Sue Sepich and asked if she would let me borrow her outfit that she wore for her son's wedding - and we must be in our seats by 7:00pm. They are held at the Radio City Music Hall. We are in the third balcony again. but much more comfortable seats. I had my binoculars. A young woman named Casey, an intern for Chris Mathews show, struck up a conversation and we so enjoyed her. Once, I looked at the audience around us, everyone looking so elegant, it was just nice, just nice. People should just dress up more. This was my first time at Radio City, just an awesome place. Before the broadcast, there is a pre show where awards are given out. Jane Krasinski and Jessie Ferguson from Modern Family hosted that portion. He is very witty, had everyone cracked up. My impressions: There are a lot of kid shows on Broadway, It was cool watching the logistics of changing scenery etc. and LIAM NEESON was in the room! Actually seeing him and other stars - through binoculars - but in the same room was really neat. Would i go again. No. Am I glad I went once, absolutely. We didn't see any commercials in the room, so it will be interesting to see the program with those added. The show just continues through commercials and then is edited. Very interesting.
Monday: Off to Bloomingdales this morning. Bought a new purse. Ate at their restaurant, 'Forty Carrots' Very good and healthy. Back to hotel and airport. Angela was surprised and impressed, I think, of the perks of traveling with a handicapped person. - Right to the head of the line - I was telling her of when we traveled to Italy a couple of years ago and my sister and niece were with me and they bring those traveling with you through too. Niece, Michelle, that sweet child, was so embarassed to be going in line before hundreds of people waiting in long lines, that she kept apologizing to them.
Yesterday was a long day, but I was eventually home
We met some wonderful, interesting, charming people. New Yorkers were friendly and helpful. This was a trip of a lifetime. I wish my legs were stronger and I had more stamina but the Lord provides. Best experience: being at Mass at St Patricks with one of my children. Most memorable: The sing-a-long at "Bountiful" Best food: Angela's daily bagels, and orange juice. Biggest surprise: How much I enjoyed "Kinky Boots" I am blessed. Life is good!
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
GALLIMAUFRY
A couple of weeks ago, on Trinity Sunday, I attended Mass At St. Vincent de Paul Parish. Now, the world knows that, St. Patrick gave the definitive explanation of the Holy Trinity - Three persons in one God - when he picked up a clover (okay, a shamrock) and noted 'three leaves on one stem'.
Father Henderson, the homilist at that Sunday's Mass gave one of the most beautiful explanations I had ever heard. This quote is attributed to Meister Eckhart, a German philosopher, mystic and theologian from the twelfth century.
"Do you want to know what goes on in the core of the Trinity? I will tell you.
In the core of the Trinity the Father laughs and gives birth to the Son. The Son
laughs back at the Father and gives birth to the Spirit. The whole Trinity laughs
and gives birth to us."
I love this. I love the thought of God laughing. Of course, I've always believed God had a sense of humor, after all, he created we humans.
* * * * *
I've been having quite a bit of back pain lately. Lower back, left side and upper back, right side. The Chiropractor suggested I see a masseuse. I traveled up to Dunlap yesterday. He suggested some of the pain, particularly the lower back might be caused partly by bad posture. It brought to mind a favorite quote of my mother's. She continuously admonished her daughters: "Shoulders back, chin down, stomach in and knockers out." Always listen to your mother, it might eliminate back pain in your mid seventies.
* * * * *
I noticed the other day, that there was a new pizza place attached to the Family Video store a couple of blocks up on Sheridan and Glen. I stopped in yesterday, Very good pizza. I got a small 'White Cheesy" - Bacon, tomato and Feta cheese. I think I can get three meals out of it. I haven't had good pizza since I stopped making it myself. The company's name, by the way, is Marco's Pizza. Try it!
* * * * *
I have explained previously the Gallimaufry is an Elizabethan word that means hodge-podge, a mixture. This post has certainly been one, from quotes by Meister Eckhart to pizza recommendation. But that's the way the mind of a septuagenarian rolls!
I end with one more Eckhart quote: "If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough."
I
,
Father Henderson, the homilist at that Sunday's Mass gave one of the most beautiful explanations I had ever heard. This quote is attributed to Meister Eckhart, a German philosopher, mystic and theologian from the twelfth century.
"Do you want to know what goes on in the core of the Trinity? I will tell you.
In the core of the Trinity the Father laughs and gives birth to the Son. The Son
laughs back at the Father and gives birth to the Spirit. The whole Trinity laughs
and gives birth to us."
I love this. I love the thought of God laughing. Of course, I've always believed God had a sense of humor, after all, he created we humans.
* * * * *
I've been having quite a bit of back pain lately. Lower back, left side and upper back, right side. The Chiropractor suggested I see a masseuse. I traveled up to Dunlap yesterday. He suggested some of the pain, particularly the lower back might be caused partly by bad posture. It brought to mind a favorite quote of my mother's. She continuously admonished her daughters: "Shoulders back, chin down, stomach in and knockers out." Always listen to your mother, it might eliminate back pain in your mid seventies.
* * * * *
I noticed the other day, that there was a new pizza place attached to the Family Video store a couple of blocks up on Sheridan and Glen. I stopped in yesterday, Very good pizza. I got a small 'White Cheesy" - Bacon, tomato and Feta cheese. I think I can get three meals out of it. I haven't had good pizza since I stopped making it myself. The company's name, by the way, is Marco's Pizza. Try it!
* * * * *
I have explained previously the Gallimaufry is an Elizabethan word that means hodge-podge, a mixture. This post has certainly been one, from quotes by Meister Eckhart to pizza recommendation. But that's the way the mind of a septuagenarian rolls!
I end with one more Eckhart quote: "If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough."
I
,
Sunday, May 12, 2013
On Having Daughters
Written for an English Class in 1993. The subject was reflection.
Buying Mother's Day cards for daughters who are mother's themselves, makes you reflect on all the stages of their lives and the fact that giving birth to a daughter and having a daughter are two different things. (The former is a natural act with some hardship and a little pain that is over in a few hours. The latter is a calculated risk with some hardship and a lot of gain that lasts for life, hers and yours.)
Having daughters can be a long term economic investment. It's years before you see any profits. First there is the expense of years and years of formal education, from nursery school to college. Plus all those countless hours of teaching her 'how-to' experiences and basic social skills. Also, there are the medical expenses, baby shots, school shots, allergy shots and braces, eye glasses and then contacts. And because she's sure to lose them, contacts and more contacts!!
Then comes the day, when some fellow with testosterone oozing from his veins comes ambling along and without a backward glance she's gone to a new life.
The gains, however, far outweigh the risks.
Nothing prepares you for the way a baby nuzzles into your neck when you hold her close. One of the best times is having her take those first tentative steps to your outstretched hands or having her snuggle beside you while she's engrossed in her favorite television program or while you're reading - again - her 'bestest' book.
Her accomplishments - learning to ride a bike, playing her fist clarinet piece all the way through, winning a blue ribbon at the State Fair, or coming in first at the track meet, can overwhelm you. There's also her pride - and yours - in actually wearing something she's made as a 4-H project, and watching her perform at one of those endless dance recitals can make your heart burst.
And then there's sitting in bleachers. One of those parental obligations about which you have mixed feelings. Nothing is as uncomfortable as bleachers but you'd never miss watching her in a school play or concert, playing a sport or cheer leading and, of course, graduations. Usually sometime during one of those times she will make eye contact with you, a slight wave or a wink or just that look that says, "I'm glad you're here".
The first time you visit her at work and the receptionist announces you with, "Oh, yes, we've been expecting you". And then the smile that's in your daughter's voice and eyes as she comes to usher you into her office.
There is no way to describe the experience of watching her on those special occasions: The innocent stance as she receives First Communion, the way her eyes glisten as she glides downstairs in her prom dress, the confident march at graduations and the self-assured stroll as she walks into the Church on her wedding day on her father's arm.
There comes a time when you cease to be just mother and daughter. You become women friends with a special bond. Friends who trust each other and care for each other. These are the best times. These are the times that make all that came before worthwhile. And best of all, when you see your daughter as a loving, caring mother and she says, "Mom, I never appreciated all you did until I had a baby of my own." Then you begin to know that maybe somewhere, sometime, you did something right.
The rest of the story......this picture was taken today - Mother's Day, 2013, of five of the six. The oldest, Leah, is enjoying her day in a special place. We visited her and her dad this morning after Church and said a prayer for them both. You can see that I am blessed! Oh, and by the way, I received an A- on the paper!
Buying Mother's Day cards for daughters who are mother's themselves, makes you reflect on all the stages of their lives and the fact that giving birth to a daughter and having a daughter are two different things. (The former is a natural act with some hardship and a little pain that is over in a few hours. The latter is a calculated risk with some hardship and a lot of gain that lasts for life, hers and yours.)
Having daughters can be a long term economic investment. It's years before you see any profits. First there is the expense of years and years of formal education, from nursery school to college. Plus all those countless hours of teaching her 'how-to' experiences and basic social skills. Also, there are the medical expenses, baby shots, school shots, allergy shots and braces, eye glasses and then contacts. And because she's sure to lose them, contacts and more contacts!!
Then comes the day, when some fellow with testosterone oozing from his veins comes ambling along and without a backward glance she's gone to a new life.
The gains, however, far outweigh the risks.
Nothing prepares you for the way a baby nuzzles into your neck when you hold her close. One of the best times is having her take those first tentative steps to your outstretched hands or having her snuggle beside you while she's engrossed in her favorite television program or while you're reading - again - her 'bestest' book.
Her accomplishments - learning to ride a bike, playing her fist clarinet piece all the way through, winning a blue ribbon at the State Fair, or coming in first at the track meet, can overwhelm you. There's also her pride - and yours - in actually wearing something she's made as a 4-H project, and watching her perform at one of those endless dance recitals can make your heart burst.
And then there's sitting in bleachers. One of those parental obligations about which you have mixed feelings. Nothing is as uncomfortable as bleachers but you'd never miss watching her in a school play or concert, playing a sport or cheer leading and, of course, graduations. Usually sometime during one of those times she will make eye contact with you, a slight wave or a wink or just that look that says, "I'm glad you're here".
The first time you visit her at work and the receptionist announces you with, "Oh, yes, we've been expecting you". And then the smile that's in your daughter's voice and eyes as she comes to usher you into her office.
There is no way to describe the experience of watching her on those special occasions: The innocent stance as she receives First Communion, the way her eyes glisten as she glides downstairs in her prom dress, the confident march at graduations and the self-assured stroll as she walks into the Church on her wedding day on her father's arm.
There comes a time when you cease to be just mother and daughter. You become women friends with a special bond. Friends who trust each other and care for each other. These are the best times. These are the times that make all that came before worthwhile. And best of all, when you see your daughter as a loving, caring mother and she says, "Mom, I never appreciated all you did until I had a baby of my own." Then you begin to know that maybe somewhere, sometime, you did something right.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Flooding On The Illinois River
No matter where you live, if you've been listening to National newscasts, you know that the Illinois, Wabash and Mississippi have all been way over there banks and have caused a lot of mud, damage and havoc here in our state. The thing about Illinois is that the Wabash partly borders to the East, the Mississippi to the West and the Illinois River slowly meanders down the middle. So our state, the one with all the Governors in jail, and no money in the bank has now been designated a disaster area - those of us who live downstate and take the brunt of the political mess from Chicago and Springfield -have known this for eons but now it's official. The Federal Government says so! (I digress)
Our dad and Uncle Stan were the only two of the seven Scovil brothers who did not join the Navy during the Second World War. Both of them had three children and were deferred because of their jobs. I can't remember what Uncle Stan did - streetcar driver maybe? - but dad worked at Caterpillar. And during that terrible flood of 1943 he did sandbag duty. In fact, when he retired they presented him with a plaque that stated that he had logged more hours working on that line than anyone else. I remember him coming home and mother having a dish pan with hot Epsom salts water to soak his feet. We lived on Smith Street at the time. Somewhere in the family archives - which means another sibling has the picture - there is a shot of him standing by that fence of sandbags.
On the night of Vern's wake, Connie Essington said to me: "Did you know Vern saved East Peoria?" No, I had never heard that story. Connie said that during the big flood in the 1970s, Connie was working for Vern and one night they were patrolling the levee on the river. (Put in after the flood of '43) He said that everyone else had taken a break and just he and Vern were there. Connie was walking along checking for leaks, he on one side and Vern down the other. Connie said he yelled for Vern that there was a pretty big gash in the wall and getting bigger and to come quick. When Vern saw what was happening, he ran over, got on a D9 tractor that they had been using to strengthen the levee and began moving dirt to fill the gap. The thing was, management was not supposed to be on the equipment, it was against union regulations but there was no one around except the two of them - the drivers were on a break. (Hopefully enough time has passed that Vern won't get in trouble with the Union). So there you have it, Vern Mall and the Little Dutch Boy. Two of a kind!
This time around, one of the things that the local media has mentioned time and time again is how everyone has pitched in and worked together to save those businesses built years ago below the flood plane. I think people who live in the Midwest, people like Dad, Vern and all the High Schoolers and others who have worked so diligently, personify what Illinoians are about. Despite our crooked politicians and officials, for the most part, the real population of this state are mighty fine folks.
Our dad and Uncle Stan were the only two of the seven Scovil brothers who did not join the Navy during the Second World War. Both of them had three children and were deferred because of their jobs. I can't remember what Uncle Stan did - streetcar driver maybe? - but dad worked at Caterpillar. And during that terrible flood of 1943 he did sandbag duty. In fact, when he retired they presented him with a plaque that stated that he had logged more hours working on that line than anyone else. I remember him coming home and mother having a dish pan with hot Epsom salts water to soak his feet. We lived on Smith Street at the time. Somewhere in the family archives - which means another sibling has the picture - there is a shot of him standing by that fence of sandbags.
On the night of Vern's wake, Connie Essington said to me: "Did you know Vern saved East Peoria?" No, I had never heard that story. Connie said that during the big flood in the 1970s, Connie was working for Vern and one night they were patrolling the levee on the river. (Put in after the flood of '43) He said that everyone else had taken a break and just he and Vern were there. Connie was walking along checking for leaks, he on one side and Vern down the other. Connie said he yelled for Vern that there was a pretty big gash in the wall and getting bigger and to come quick. When Vern saw what was happening, he ran over, got on a D9 tractor that they had been using to strengthen the levee and began moving dirt to fill the gap. The thing was, management was not supposed to be on the equipment, it was against union regulations but there was no one around except the two of them - the drivers were on a break. (Hopefully enough time has passed that Vern won't get in trouble with the Union). So there you have it, Vern Mall and the Little Dutch Boy. Two of a kind!
This time around, one of the things that the local media has mentioned time and time again is how everyone has pitched in and worked together to save those businesses built years ago below the flood plane. I think people who live in the Midwest, people like Dad, Vern and all the High Schoolers and others who have worked so diligently, personify what Illinoians are about. Despite our crooked politicians and officials, for the most part, the real population of this state are mighty fine folks.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Bacon Grease
Today daughter Mary wrote on Facebook about having a jar of bacon grease in her fridge. She and I were talking this afternoon and she asked me if I did as well. It used to be a staple in my kitchen. It sat on the stove in a jar that had matching salt and pepper shakers. I think we originally got a set for a wedding present.
Bacon Grease was a staple like Crisco and butter. And they all had their place in the kitchen. Actually we very seldom bought butter. Maybe at Thanksgiving I would buy a pound and squirrel part of it away for Christmas. We used margarine for toast and sandwiches. Butter was way too expensive for a family of eight. Vern's mother made butter but she waited until the cream had soured before she churned it. When I was there visiting and doing chores, I would wash and wash the butter hoping to get rid of that sour taste but it wasn't possible. She always insisted we bring some home and I tried 'doctoring' it up with salt and sugar and washing it some more but it still was not my taste. Vern would have been beside himself if I had thrown it away and, of course, he liked it because he had grown up with it. So I usually had margarine for me and Clara' s butter for him. I'm not sure what the daughters used. I'm sure Leah ate the same as her dad because if he was for something so was she.
Crisco was used for baking. I was never good at making pie crust - I tried everyone's 'fool proof' recipe but this fool could never do it right. I was thrilled when Alissa became old enough to want to bake and she made amazing pie crust. In fact, at least one year her cherry pie won a blue ribbon at The Heart of Illinois Fair. After she moved to California, when she would come home for a visit she would make about a half dozen Dutch Apple pies and we would put them in the freezer. This was Vern's favorite. I did manage to piece together enough pie dough to make an occasional peach or blackberry cobbler. Not much to look at but pretty tasty!
The bacon grease was used for frying eggs, frying potatoes, I even fried chicken fried pork chops in it. And, of course, the only seasoning for home grown green beans was bacon grease. In fact every year sometime early in the season, we would have green beans, new potatoes and some bacon slices that had cooked slowly all day plus fresh lettuce with bacon crumbles with a little of the grease, a little sugar and vinegar - wilted lettuce. One of Vern's favorite meals. Rereading this, I realize it was no wonder he had his first heart attack at 49! Vern's parents grew their own pop corn and used bacon grease and salt to season it. yikes!
How times have changed. The bacon grease/s&p set went to good will. For several years I kept a small amount in the fridge for just green beans, I don't have it in the house anymore. If I cook bacon, the grease gets thrown out. I don't use Crisco but coconut oil and never have margarine, only butter and used sparingly. I fix scrambled eggs in the microwave with a spoon of butter for flavor. If I bake cookies, I use butter. I fried onions and peppers recently and used a mixture of olive oil and butter. I probably use olive oil for cooking most and I always buy extra, extra virgin and a good quality. I don't use much so feel its worth it.
Actually, I seldom eat fried foods but if I do cook bacon, I cut each slice in threes. It fries up easier and I can use it for a sandwich or crumble it for a salad. A favorite salad is fresh spinach, feta cheese, dried cranberries and crumbled bacon with a vinegar and oil dressing. Sometimes I might add celery, grape tomatoes and green onions, depending what's on hand.
For the most part, we all tend to eat a little healthier but every once in awhile fresh green beans, new potatoes and a little bacon rendered including the grease makes life just a little better. And life IS good.
Bacon Grease was a staple like Crisco and butter. And they all had their place in the kitchen. Actually we very seldom bought butter. Maybe at Thanksgiving I would buy a pound and squirrel part of it away for Christmas. We used margarine for toast and sandwiches. Butter was way too expensive for a family of eight. Vern's mother made butter but she waited until the cream had soured before she churned it. When I was there visiting and doing chores, I would wash and wash the butter hoping to get rid of that sour taste but it wasn't possible. She always insisted we bring some home and I tried 'doctoring' it up with salt and sugar and washing it some more but it still was not my taste. Vern would have been beside himself if I had thrown it away and, of course, he liked it because he had grown up with it. So I usually had margarine for me and Clara' s butter for him. I'm not sure what the daughters used. I'm sure Leah ate the same as her dad because if he was for something so was she.
Crisco was used for baking. I was never good at making pie crust - I tried everyone's 'fool proof' recipe but this fool could never do it right. I was thrilled when Alissa became old enough to want to bake and she made amazing pie crust. In fact, at least one year her cherry pie won a blue ribbon at The Heart of Illinois Fair. After she moved to California, when she would come home for a visit she would make about a half dozen Dutch Apple pies and we would put them in the freezer. This was Vern's favorite. I did manage to piece together enough pie dough to make an occasional peach or blackberry cobbler. Not much to look at but pretty tasty!
The bacon grease was used for frying eggs, frying potatoes, I even fried chicken fried pork chops in it. And, of course, the only seasoning for home grown green beans was bacon grease. In fact every year sometime early in the season, we would have green beans, new potatoes and some bacon slices that had cooked slowly all day plus fresh lettuce with bacon crumbles with a little of the grease, a little sugar and vinegar - wilted lettuce. One of Vern's favorite meals. Rereading this, I realize it was no wonder he had his first heart attack at 49! Vern's parents grew their own pop corn and used bacon grease and salt to season it. yikes!
How times have changed. The bacon grease/s&p set went to good will. For several years I kept a small amount in the fridge for just green beans, I don't have it in the house anymore. If I cook bacon, the grease gets thrown out. I don't use Crisco but coconut oil and never have margarine, only butter and used sparingly. I fix scrambled eggs in the microwave with a spoon of butter for flavor. If I bake cookies, I use butter. I fried onions and peppers recently and used a mixture of olive oil and butter. I probably use olive oil for cooking most and I always buy extra, extra virgin and a good quality. I don't use much so feel its worth it.
Actually, I seldom eat fried foods but if I do cook bacon, I cut each slice in threes. It fries up easier and I can use it for a sandwich or crumble it for a salad. A favorite salad is fresh spinach, feta cheese, dried cranberries and crumbled bacon with a vinegar and oil dressing. Sometimes I might add celery, grape tomatoes and green onions, depending what's on hand.
For the most part, we all tend to eat a little healthier but every once in awhile fresh green beans, new potatoes and a little bacon rendered including the grease makes life just a little better. And life IS good.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Nostalgia Tour
Whenever our friend, Russ Epperly, would come back to Peoria from San Diego, sometime during his stay here, he would take what his wife, Mary Lou, would call his 'Nostalgia Tour'. He would visit all his old stomping grounds throughout the city - but mostly in the Southside and reminisce or bemoan the fact that things had changed. Mary would roll her eyes and comment that he HAD to do it every time he came back and often he wanted her along too. I think she seretly enjoyed 'looking back' with him because her being with him was so important to him.
Today, I went to lunch with some friends. One of whom has been having some health issues and I told her I would pick her up and drive her home. She lives on Airport Road and it had been years since I had been out that way. What started as a lift for a friend ended up being one of Russ Epperly' Nostalgia Tours', Norma Style.
After lunch, instead of traveling back the shortest route via I474, I asked Rita if it was still possible to get through Bartonville from East Peoria. She said absolutely and we headed West. I took an alternate route (I never admit to getting lost, only that I want to get the 'flavor' of the area). I got the 'flavor' of North Pekin. After a slight detour, we were over the Shade Lohman Bridge, down the off ramp and a right turn and we were in Bartonville. The old Bartonville Bank Building is still in the middle of the cross street. (It is recycled as a cake supply shop and has been for years.) - I don't know how long it has been since I have traveled this road but probably more than twenty years. We took the fork to the right, Smithville Road, and started up the hill. The landscape is still a little bare from winter but some new undergrowth peeking through. I think there are a few more houses now, not so much on the road itself but bulldozed and cleared out into the hillside. Not really fancy homes, but newer ones.
At the top of the hill, I could see the new runways for the Airport, and a plane was approaching low towards one of them on my left side. I took Rita home, and instead of getting back on I474 I headed down to Harmon Highway, crossed the Kickapoo Creek Bridge, under which Vern and I used to park and 'spark'. Up past the Kroger Store where we shopped when our children were very young.
I didn't drive in those years we lived out by the Airport. Vern would take me and one, two, three or four daughters to Krogers.(depending where we were in the baby chain) (The younger two were born after we moved back to the Southside). I would go in with all of them and my list. He mostly worked third shift at that time and weather permitting would stay in the car and sleep. He never liked grocery shopping.
I would put the current baby in the child seat in front, Leah in the shopping cart and Alissa and Lora hanging on each side. If I had a lot of groceries, Vern would come in and he would push a cart as well. We had milk home delivered, had a large garden and I canned and froze vegetables. Vern's parents, every other year or so would give us a quarter of a beef, so we shopped for essentials every two weeks. Lora would get bored hanging on the side of the basket and take off and Alisa would decide to do the same thing, so it was look at the list, round up kids, look at the list, round up.... etc. I have never liked grocery shopping either!
I took the left turn to Seventh Street, past The Elks Club - we went to a lot of parties there - and left on Sterling past Madison Golf Course. The first stop sign past the golf course, I noticed some stone pillars. I went right and it was Fairway Drive. I babysat for a family up there in my teens. One night, the boy about eight got mad at me, he didn't think he should have to go to bed. A few minutes later, he came out with his dad's shot gun, he was going to shoot me. I called my Dad who stayed with me until the parents came home. I can't remember the family's name but I never babysat there again. I had forgotten the incident until I saw the stone pillars today.
Back to Sterling, and right on Rohmann and a stop at Haddads Market. This is the second time I've been there since the fire on New Years Day, 2010?. A lovely store and the heart of West Peoria. I needed laundry soap and cheese and I picked up a frozen Davis Brothers Pizza - Davis Brothers Pizza, more memories - from the Freezer Case.
Rohmann to Main, left on University, right on War Memorial left on Sheridan, right on Crestwood and home and all the while memories, people and places running through my head. I certainly enjoyed my Nostalgia Tour. Thanks, Russ, it is a good way to remember.
Today, I went to lunch with some friends. One of whom has been having some health issues and I told her I would pick her up and drive her home. She lives on Airport Road and it had been years since I had been out that way. What started as a lift for a friend ended up being one of Russ Epperly' Nostalgia Tours', Norma Style.
After lunch, instead of traveling back the shortest route via I474, I asked Rita if it was still possible to get through Bartonville from East Peoria. She said absolutely and we headed West. I took an alternate route (I never admit to getting lost, only that I want to get the 'flavor' of the area). I got the 'flavor' of North Pekin. After a slight detour, we were over the Shade Lohman Bridge, down the off ramp and a right turn and we were in Bartonville. The old Bartonville Bank Building is still in the middle of the cross street. (It is recycled as a cake supply shop and has been for years.) - I don't know how long it has been since I have traveled this road but probably more than twenty years. We took the fork to the right, Smithville Road, and started up the hill. The landscape is still a little bare from winter but some new undergrowth peeking through. I think there are a few more houses now, not so much on the road itself but bulldozed and cleared out into the hillside. Not really fancy homes, but newer ones.
At the top of the hill, I could see the new runways for the Airport, and a plane was approaching low towards one of them on my left side. I took Rita home, and instead of getting back on I474 I headed down to Harmon Highway, crossed the Kickapoo Creek Bridge, under which Vern and I used to park and 'spark'. Up past the Kroger Store where we shopped when our children were very young.
I didn't drive in those years we lived out by the Airport. Vern would take me and one, two, three or four daughters to Krogers.(depending where we were in the baby chain) (The younger two were born after we moved back to the Southside). I would go in with all of them and my list. He mostly worked third shift at that time and weather permitting would stay in the car and sleep. He never liked grocery shopping.
I would put the current baby in the child seat in front, Leah in the shopping cart and Alissa and Lora hanging on each side. If I had a lot of groceries, Vern would come in and he would push a cart as well. We had milk home delivered, had a large garden and I canned and froze vegetables. Vern's parents, every other year or so would give us a quarter of a beef, so we shopped for essentials every two weeks. Lora would get bored hanging on the side of the basket and take off and Alisa would decide to do the same thing, so it was look at the list, round up kids, look at the list, round up.... etc. I have never liked grocery shopping either!
I took the left turn to Seventh Street, past The Elks Club - we went to a lot of parties there - and left on Sterling past Madison Golf Course. The first stop sign past the golf course, I noticed some stone pillars. I went right and it was Fairway Drive. I babysat for a family up there in my teens. One night, the boy about eight got mad at me, he didn't think he should have to go to bed. A few minutes later, he came out with his dad's shot gun, he was going to shoot me. I called my Dad who stayed with me until the parents came home. I can't remember the family's name but I never babysat there again. I had forgotten the incident until I saw the stone pillars today.
Back to Sterling, and right on Rohmann and a stop at Haddads Market. This is the second time I've been there since the fire on New Years Day, 2010?. A lovely store and the heart of West Peoria. I needed laundry soap and cheese and I picked up a frozen Davis Brothers Pizza - Davis Brothers Pizza, more memories - from the Freezer Case.
Rohmann to Main, left on University, right on War Memorial left on Sheridan, right on Crestwood and home and all the while memories, people and places running through my head. I certainly enjoyed my Nostalgia Tour. Thanks, Russ, it is a good way to remember.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Come Fly With Me
We've been planning a couple of trips and pricing plane fares, and I started thinking about some of my experiences with flying. One year at the Heart of Illinois fair, Joanne Billings and I, having saved our pennies, took a helicopter ride over the city. This was my first experience flying. The copter went from the fair grounds off of north University to downtown probably in about a half hour in all. It was pretty exciting and about the only thing I can remember is how many swimming pools there were in that area.
For one of my birthdays, I think it was the 30th, we were on Cat vacation in Missouri and as a surprise, Vern and b-i-l, Claude Young - one of my favorite people - planned to take me on a plane ride. Claude had a friend who had a four seater small plane. Vern's sister took care of all ten of the children and we traveled to a Springfield flying field and we went up. Claude and Vern in the back, me up front. I loved the adventure and we flew over Mary and Claude's house and even Vern's family farm thirty miles north. As I remember it was pretty cool and I can still remember the smiling looks on Vern and Claude's faces because they had pulled off such a great surprise.
I think the first commercial flight I went on was to Washington, D.C. I was selected to go to the National Leaders Conference for 4-H. That is another story, a good experience. There were three of us going and we were in the waiting room when an announcement came over the intercom: "Would Norma Mall please come to the ticket counter" Of course, I thought something had happened to one of the girls and I hurried towards that area. I turned the corner and there sat Gail Fitzpatrick, Ronnie Rathbun, Phyllis Calliss and Linda Nieukirk (and maybe some others) dressed in their bathrobes, slippers, shower caps holding towels and who knows what else. They said they just remembered I was leaving and left in a hurry to say goodbye. Crazy, crazy ladies and, I'm not sure what the other two women I was traveling with thought of this tribe. Lots of fun times.
The first time I traveled alone, was to Kansas City. Brother Russ and his wife were going to a convention and they asked me to come and stay with their three kids. The trip was on Ozark. I loved Ozark airlines, (remember how noisy those old planes were?) and went a couple more times on Russ's nickle to babysit.
When Mary and Gregg bought their travel agency, several times we were able to travel first class to California. Vern loved traveling first class, he always ordered champagne and by the time we made it to the west he had a nice glow.
In 1993, when my friend, Rita and I went to Europe for the first time - coach - I did not get comfortable on the whole trip over but loved, loved the hot wash cloth before we landed. We flew on Virgin Airlines. And I remember coming back, and one of those traveling with us, said: "Look, Norma, we are now over the United States". Lump in the throat time!
When we went to Italy in 2011, a client of Mary's gave me points enough to travel first class. (Thanks again, Elena) What a way to go! I had my own little cubicle that made into a bed and I slept coming and going. I think my traveling to Europe has ended, don't think I would want to go any other way and cannot afford it on my own.
Haven't I had some wonderful adventures, a lot of them provided by others. I am blessed.
For one of my birthdays, I think it was the 30th, we were on Cat vacation in Missouri and as a surprise, Vern and b-i-l, Claude Young - one of my favorite people - planned to take me on a plane ride. Claude had a friend who had a four seater small plane. Vern's sister took care of all ten of the children and we traveled to a Springfield flying field and we went up. Claude and Vern in the back, me up front. I loved the adventure and we flew over Mary and Claude's house and even Vern's family farm thirty miles north. As I remember it was pretty cool and I can still remember the smiling looks on Vern and Claude's faces because they had pulled off such a great surprise.
I think the first commercial flight I went on was to Washington, D.C. I was selected to go to the National Leaders Conference for 4-H. That is another story, a good experience. There were three of us going and we were in the waiting room when an announcement came over the intercom: "Would Norma Mall please come to the ticket counter" Of course, I thought something had happened to one of the girls and I hurried towards that area. I turned the corner and there sat Gail Fitzpatrick, Ronnie Rathbun, Phyllis Calliss and Linda Nieukirk (and maybe some others) dressed in their bathrobes, slippers, shower caps holding towels and who knows what else. They said they just remembered I was leaving and left in a hurry to say goodbye. Crazy, crazy ladies and, I'm not sure what the other two women I was traveling with thought of this tribe. Lots of fun times.
The first time I traveled alone, was to Kansas City. Brother Russ and his wife were going to a convention and they asked me to come and stay with their three kids. The trip was on Ozark. I loved Ozark airlines, (remember how noisy those old planes were?) and went a couple more times on Russ's nickle to babysit.
When Mary and Gregg bought their travel agency, several times we were able to travel first class to California. Vern loved traveling first class, he always ordered champagne and by the time we made it to the west he had a nice glow.
In 1993, when my friend, Rita and I went to Europe for the first time - coach - I did not get comfortable on the whole trip over but loved, loved the hot wash cloth before we landed. We flew on Virgin Airlines. And I remember coming back, and one of those traveling with us, said: "Look, Norma, we are now over the United States". Lump in the throat time!
When we went to Italy in 2011, a client of Mary's gave me points enough to travel first class. (Thanks again, Elena) What a way to go! I had my own little cubicle that made into a bed and I slept coming and going. I think my traveling to Europe has ended, don't think I would want to go any other way and cannot afford it on my own.
Haven't I had some wonderful adventures, a lot of them provided by others. I am blessed.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
ELLEN LEE
I have eight grandchildren; Lisa, an English teacher, who at the present time gets to be a stay-at-home Mom, Joel, an Engineer, Tony, who works for a distributing company, Steven, a sophomore in college, Tim, a junior at UW-Eau Claire, and Jonathan and Charlie, who are both seniors in high school and Elle, who is currently living and working in the Boston area and works for I-Robot. I love all of these great kids but the only ones birthday I can remember for sure is hers, 4-4-88.
When she was born, I remember how beautiful her mother looked - Lora has her dad's family's warm Italian coloring, and I am also reminded of holding Ellen at Methodist Hospital where she was born. Because they lived so close to us in Washington, I'm afraid all the Aunts spoiled her. (She was a beautiful little girl - still is!) This is her with her Aunt Maureen.
When she was eight, Vern and I took her on a trip out West. She was a good traveling companion. We had many adventures: getting stranded in Kansas in 100 degree weather with car trouble, donkey's heads coming in through the open windows at Mount Rushmore and she fell out of a tree at our destination in Colorado. She called Mount Rushmore: "the place with four heads". I still call it that. Once I looked back, she was sitting in the back seat. She was sitting in the middle, sound asleep and had all three seat belts buckled around her. How did she do that?
Recently, she called and asked if I was feeling okay because I hadn't blogged anything for awhile. I told her it was because I hadn't had anything to write about - I was having dental work done, pretty boring. In that conversation, she was complaining about something in her life and I told her to put it in perspective, at her age I had four children - or maybe three and one on the way. Now that I think about it, that was unfair of me, I should have just made soothing grandmother noises. Hmmm, not good at that! Too opinionated.
When she was in High School, we always made it up north to see her in a play. She usually played a comedy role. Her Mrs. Bennett in "Pride and Prejudice" was classic.
Once while she was in High School or College, she had to write a paper on "What is love". She called me. I told her that love isn't the lust of young people, (I remember that) but that love is when you are recovering from surgery and your husband helps you take a bath and wash your hair and leads you back to your bed that he has put clean sheets on. That is true love! She said: "Oh, Grandma, that makes me cry!"
I love her, as I do the other seven. If there was one thing I would change about her it is that she would realize her own worth. She is an amazing women. An award winning artist, very creative, do you get the idea I'm proud of her?
Well, Miss Ellen, better known these days by her artistic name 'Elle', but she is still Ellen to me, I finally have something to write about. Love you, little girl.
When she was born, I remember how beautiful her mother looked - Lora has her dad's family's warm Italian coloring, and I am also reminded of holding Ellen at Methodist Hospital where she was born. Because they lived so close to us in Washington, I'm afraid all the Aunts spoiled her. (She was a beautiful little girl - still is!) This is her with her Aunt Maureen.
Recently, she called and asked if I was feeling okay because I hadn't blogged anything for awhile. I told her it was because I hadn't had anything to write about - I was having dental work done, pretty boring. In that conversation, she was complaining about something in her life and I told her to put it in perspective, at her age I had four children - or maybe three and one on the way. Now that I think about it, that was unfair of me, I should have just made soothing grandmother noises. Hmmm, not good at that! Too opinionated.
When she was in High School, we always made it up north to see her in a play. She usually played a comedy role. Her Mrs. Bennett in "Pride and Prejudice" was classic.
Once while she was in High School or College, she had to write a paper on "What is love". She called me. I told her that love isn't the lust of young people, (I remember that) but that love is when you are recovering from surgery and your husband helps you take a bath and wash your hair and leads you back to your bed that he has put clean sheets on. That is true love! She said: "Oh, Grandma, that makes me cry!"
I love her, as I do the other seven. If there was one thing I would change about her it is that she would realize her own worth. She is an amazing women. An award winning artist, very creative, do you get the idea I'm proud of her?
Well, Miss Ellen, better known these days by her artistic name 'Elle', but she is still Ellen to me, I finally have something to write about. Love you, little girl.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Holy Thursday
Today begins the three holiest days of the Liturgical calendar. Tonight's service has always been one of my favorites. But the last two years I have not attended. Two years ago, twelve women in my family met at a villa in Italy and on this day I was traveling. (People do wonderful things. One of our daughter Mary's clients, when she heard that I had lung cancer gave me enough mileage points to travel first class - the only way to travel to Europe) Last year I was on a train to Idaho, traveling again. This year, I'll be here at my home parish, St. Thomas. Looking forward to this evening.
It may be the Irish in me, but this holy day also reminds me of one of my favorite jokes.
Father O'Brien had grown up in Ireland in the midst of 'the troubles' and strongly disliked the English. Every chance he got, in his homily on the Gospel he would have some cutting remark about those peoples across the Irish Sea. The make-up of his parish was changing and people began to complain to the Bishop. The Bishop called him in and admonished him that he had to stop or he would take away his parish. And said he would stop in periodically to make sure he gave no more homilies against the English.
The Bishop did and Father O didn't.
But it came Holy Thursday and the Gospel was on the betrayal of Jesus. Father O'Brien started his homily: "Jaysus gathered the twelve around him and said 'Before the night is over, one of ya will betray me' Pater said, 'Is it I, Lord?' Jaysus said 'No, Pater'. John asked: 'Tis it me, Lord' 'No, John' Jaysus answered. Judas Iscariot asked: 'I say, Old Chap, is it I'."
The rest of the story......When I was a tour guide for the History Trolley Tours, there were times in the city when there was little history, so I would fill in with trivia or a little joke. I love the story of Father O'Brien and so I would tell it. When the tours first started, we had a brief questionnaire to get feedback on the tour and the guide. I was written up because of that joke, there were English types on board who thought the joke was in poor taste. Now my ancestry is much more British than Irish, I just liked the story. Oh, well!!
It may be the Irish in me, but this holy day also reminds me of one of my favorite jokes.
Father O'Brien had grown up in Ireland in the midst of 'the troubles' and strongly disliked the English. Every chance he got, in his homily on the Gospel he would have some cutting remark about those peoples across the Irish Sea. The make-up of his parish was changing and people began to complain to the Bishop. The Bishop called him in and admonished him that he had to stop or he would take away his parish. And said he would stop in periodically to make sure he gave no more homilies against the English.
The Bishop did and Father O didn't.
But it came Holy Thursday and the Gospel was on the betrayal of Jesus. Father O'Brien started his homily: "Jaysus gathered the twelve around him and said 'Before the night is over, one of ya will betray me' Pater said, 'Is it I, Lord?' Jaysus said 'No, Pater'. John asked: 'Tis it me, Lord' 'No, John' Jaysus answered. Judas Iscariot asked: 'I say, Old Chap, is it I'."
The rest of the story......When I was a tour guide for the History Trolley Tours, there were times in the city when there was little history, so I would fill in with trivia or a little joke. I love the story of Father O'Brien and so I would tell it. When the tours first started, we had a brief questionnaire to get feedback on the tour and the guide. I was written up because of that joke, there were English types on board who thought the joke was in poor taste. Now my ancestry is much more British than Irish, I just liked the story. Oh, well!!
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
St. Peter's Tomb
Yesterday I taped the installation of Pope Francis as the Bishop of Rome. This evening I have been watching it and at one point he walked down to the Tomb of St. Peter, the first Pope who was appointed by Jesus. You can't help but wonder what was his prayer.
Seeing this seemingly humble man kneeling there, it brought back memories from 1993 when I went on a pilgrimage to seven countries in Europe in twenty-three days. It was an amazing experience and one that I am eternally grateful.
One morning we had Mass at the tomb of St. Peter. This is what I wrote in my journal.
Rome 7-24-93
Up this morning at 6:00 - and a brisk walk to the Vatican. Our group were the first through the front doors this day. Not many around at 7:00 except a few nuns and security. The Swiss Guards wear navy colored uniforms in the morning and at night - only the colorful ones during the day - the navy ones look just like the others. They are made from a beautiful material.
We looked around the church until Father Mac (Father MacKinnon, our Chaplain on the trip) was led from the sacristy and they ushered our group to the altar in front of St. Peter's tomb. Father was very pleased to get this spot even at 7:30 a.m. A sister from Pittsburgh joined us for Mass.
Frank (was from Saipan in the Mariannas Islands. He was the choir director at the Cathedral there) had bought a chalice for a new priest in his diocese. He said the man was very poor and only had a plain cup given to him by the diocese. Frank wanted him to have a very nice one. Frank is very generous. From what he says, status is very important on Saipan. Anyway, Fr. Mac used this new chalice at Mass and as it turned out Frank was the first lay person to drink from it. The new priest was ordained July 9, my birthday. As I took Communion, I thought about the incongruity of life. His ordination on one side of the world on my birthday - my being at the first time the Chalice was used on the other side of the world.
We came back for breakfast (to the hotel) and at 10:00 headed back for the diggings. Under the Vatican about 1939, they discovered a Roman burial ground and also the site of the original St. Peters built by Constantine is partly there as well. This was much more interesting then the catacombs. We then went through the Vatican museum and Sistine Chapel.
The museums are spectacular. Sculpture from B.C., beautiful works of art and tapestries - too numerous to mention. What a treasure trove.
I was a little disappointed in the Chapel. It's so much to take in. I always thought it was round - and there's no altar just benches along the walls. The painting are spectacular - but not restful.
While reading for this trip about Pilgrimages, I read about Islamic tradition having all Muslims come to Mecca in their lifetime. Today at Mass in this holy place, I could understand their need. We can be good Catholics and never come to Rome and the Vatican but being here makes you feel so privileged to be here. Fr. Mac said the best thing we could do was to go home and serve the Lord by being the best we can be.
While we were waiting for a Pope to be selected, I was asked several times who I wanted to take Benedict's place. My prayer was that whomever was chosen would be the best for the Church. I hope all of our prayers have been answered.
Seeing this seemingly humble man kneeling there, it brought back memories from 1993 when I went on a pilgrimage to seven countries in Europe in twenty-three days. It was an amazing experience and one that I am eternally grateful.
Rome 7-24-93
Up this morning at 6:00 - and a brisk walk to the Vatican. Our group were the first through the front doors this day. Not many around at 7:00 except a few nuns and security. The Swiss Guards wear navy colored uniforms in the morning and at night - only the colorful ones during the day - the navy ones look just like the others. They are made from a beautiful material.
We looked around the church until Father Mac (Father MacKinnon, our Chaplain on the trip) was led from the sacristy and they ushered our group to the altar in front of St. Peter's tomb. Father was very pleased to get this spot even at 7:30 a.m. A sister from Pittsburgh joined us for Mass.
Frank (was from Saipan in the Mariannas Islands. He was the choir director at the Cathedral there) had bought a chalice for a new priest in his diocese. He said the man was very poor and only had a plain cup given to him by the diocese. Frank wanted him to have a very nice one. Frank is very generous. From what he says, status is very important on Saipan. Anyway, Fr. Mac used this new chalice at Mass and as it turned out Frank was the first lay person to drink from it. The new priest was ordained July 9, my birthday. As I took Communion, I thought about the incongruity of life. His ordination on one side of the world on my birthday - my being at the first time the Chalice was used on the other side of the world.
We came back for breakfast (to the hotel) and at 10:00 headed back for the diggings. Under the Vatican about 1939, they discovered a Roman burial ground and also the site of the original St. Peters built by Constantine is partly there as well. This was much more interesting then the catacombs. We then went through the Vatican museum and Sistine Chapel.
The museums are spectacular. Sculpture from B.C., beautiful works of art and tapestries - too numerous to mention. What a treasure trove.
I was a little disappointed in the Chapel. It's so much to take in. I always thought it was round - and there's no altar just benches along the walls. The painting are spectacular - but not restful.
While reading for this trip about Pilgrimages, I read about Islamic tradition having all Muslims come to Mecca in their lifetime. Today at Mass in this holy place, I could understand their need. We can be good Catholics and never come to Rome and the Vatican but being here makes you feel so privileged to be here. Fr. Mac said the best thing we could do was to go home and serve the Lord by being the best we can be.
While we were waiting for a Pope to be selected, I was asked several times who I wanted to take Benedict's place. My prayer was that whomever was chosen would be the best for the Church. I hope all of our prayers have been answered.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Anointing
Our Catholic Faith has seven Sacraments - Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance, Marriage, Holy Orders, and the Sacrament of the Sick. When I was growing up the Sacrament of the Sick was called Extreme Unction (extreme as in last and unction which means anointing). If the Priest was called to administer this last Sacrament, you knew the end was very near. It was not uncommon, for the sick person not to realize just how close they were to death until Father walked into the room. Our Protestant friend, Bill, tells about being in the hospital and awakening and seeing our former Pastor, Father Hughes, sitting in his hospital room and thinking: "Just how sick am I?" Bill didn't realize that Father visited parishioners in the hospital once a week
Wisely, somewhere along the way, the Church decided to change this Sacrament so that it could be administered more often. A former pastor at St. Patricks, Msgr. Swanner, would offer the Sacrament one Sunday each year during Mass to anyone who felt a need to be blessed and pray for healing. I see this Sacrament as a wonderful gift and have been anointed many times. When I was about to have my first PET scan after being diagnosed with Cancer, after daily Mass I asked the Pastor if he would give me the Sacrament of the Sick and he said yes, got the Holy Oils (every Catholic Church keeps them on hand) and anointed me, saying the prayers, making the Sign of the Cross on my forehead and the palms of my hands. When I thanked him, Msgr. Watson said: "I love it when people ask me for the Sacraments!!" - He is a special, special person.
Last Sunday was the annual Anointing Mass at St. Thomas. There were about one hundred people there and after the homily, Father asked us to come forward and he would anoint us. I don't know what it is about this Sacrament but it is very moving for me and especially so this week. Father anointed my head, and hands and then with his hand he put my two hands together and held my hand in a minute positive grip and smiled. (He did this to everyone who came before him) I just choked up. and through the rest of the Mass, when I stood to sing or join in the prayers, I couldn't, I was too ver klempt. Especially at Communion, when we say together: "Only say the Word and my Soul shall be healed." Did you notice how many times in the Bible when someone asks for a healing, Jesus answers: "Your sins are forgiven". Sometimes He adds that they are healed but I have come to understand that when we know we are forgiven we ARE healed.
I haven't had a chemo treatment since May, 2012. I decided not to do that anymore. I've been going to a chiropractor, Maximized Living, who espouses chiro treatments, exercise and changing your lifestyle. Reading food labels, doing away with refined products and eating more fresh and natural foods. I probably live this way 85% of the time, which is pretty good for me - sometimes I just have to have a McDonalds breakfast burrito and a cola - $2.21. I feel good, I have been coughing a little more and the pleurisy on my left side can be challenging sometimes. My PET scans every three months have all been the same as when I was getting chemo treatments, a small amount of cancer growth but not significant.
In early January, I visited my eye doctor. He asked about the cancer, I told him what I had been doing and he asked if I had ever tried essential oils. Yes, I had heard about them but didn't know a lot. He said he puts two drops of clove oil on the instep of each foot each day and feels it has given him more stamina in his legs. He suggested I go visit a local pharmacy, where they carry the oils. He had a book on oils and there was a 'recipe' for Lung cancer. I wrote down the 'recipe', two of the oils used are the holiest of oils, frankincense and myrrh.
I haven't done the 'recipe' yet, thinking about it but I have been using clove oil on my instep and on the toes on my right foot. When I fell last May, I injured the nerve that controls my toes so if it helps, why not? Sounds crazy? Might be! But I am open to alternative treatments. I can't believe that pumping your body full of poison - chemo - is the only way to live with cancer.
Tomorrow, I will have another PET scan, and will get the results the following week - it takes that long to get in the system. I will keep you informed.
Wisely, somewhere along the way, the Church decided to change this Sacrament so that it could be administered more often. A former pastor at St. Patricks, Msgr. Swanner, would offer the Sacrament one Sunday each year during Mass to anyone who felt a need to be blessed and pray for healing. I see this Sacrament as a wonderful gift and have been anointed many times. When I was about to have my first PET scan after being diagnosed with Cancer, after daily Mass I asked the Pastor if he would give me the Sacrament of the Sick and he said yes, got the Holy Oils (every Catholic Church keeps them on hand) and anointed me, saying the prayers, making the Sign of the Cross on my forehead and the palms of my hands. When I thanked him, Msgr. Watson said: "I love it when people ask me for the Sacraments!!" - He is a special, special person.
Last Sunday was the annual Anointing Mass at St. Thomas. There were about one hundred people there and after the homily, Father asked us to come forward and he would anoint us. I don't know what it is about this Sacrament but it is very moving for me and especially so this week. Father anointed my head, and hands and then with his hand he put my two hands together and held my hand in a minute positive grip and smiled. (He did this to everyone who came before him) I just choked up. and through the rest of the Mass, when I stood to sing or join in the prayers, I couldn't, I was too ver klempt. Especially at Communion, when we say together: "Only say the Word and my Soul shall be healed." Did you notice how many times in the Bible when someone asks for a healing, Jesus answers: "Your sins are forgiven". Sometimes He adds that they are healed but I have come to understand that when we know we are forgiven we ARE healed.
I haven't had a chemo treatment since May, 2012. I decided not to do that anymore. I've been going to a chiropractor, Maximized Living, who espouses chiro treatments, exercise and changing your lifestyle. Reading food labels, doing away with refined products and eating more fresh and natural foods. I probably live this way 85% of the time, which is pretty good for me - sometimes I just have to have a McDonalds breakfast burrito and a cola - $2.21. I feel good, I have been coughing a little more and the pleurisy on my left side can be challenging sometimes. My PET scans every three months have all been the same as when I was getting chemo treatments, a small amount of cancer growth but not significant.
In early January, I visited my eye doctor. He asked about the cancer, I told him what I had been doing and he asked if I had ever tried essential oils. Yes, I had heard about them but didn't know a lot. He said he puts two drops of clove oil on the instep of each foot each day and feels it has given him more stamina in his legs. He suggested I go visit a local pharmacy, where they carry the oils. He had a book on oils and there was a 'recipe' for Lung cancer. I wrote down the 'recipe', two of the oils used are the holiest of oils, frankincense and myrrh.
I haven't done the 'recipe' yet, thinking about it but I have been using clove oil on my instep and on the toes on my right foot. When I fell last May, I injured the nerve that controls my toes so if it helps, why not? Sounds crazy? Might be! But I am open to alternative treatments. I can't believe that pumping your body full of poison - chemo - is the only way to live with cancer.
Tomorrow, I will have another PET scan, and will get the results the following week - it takes that long to get in the system. I will keep you informed.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
The St. Patrick Day Play
On Sunday, I drove down to Belleville, Illinois with Dr. Patricia O'Connell, her mother, Eileen and Frances Farraher. All four of us are State Officers in the Ladies Ancient Order of Hibernians, an Irish Catholic Women's Organization. We were going down to support the annual fundraiser of the St. Clair County L.A.O.H. It was a lovely event and well organized. Thouroughly enjoyable!!
Pat was driving and Eileen was her navigator and Fran and I were in the backseat. Fran and I went to school together at both St. Pats and AOL, our mothers were officers in the Women's Guild together and were friends. Now one of the things I like best about Fran is she has an amazing memory, she brought me back to times I had forgotten and I enjoyed my time with her.
One memory that she brought up was about the St. Patricks Day plays. I went to the southside St. Patricks school for Kindergarten and First Grade - we moved up on the bluff for a couple of years - and then back for Fourth through Eighth Grades.
Right after the beginning of the new year, Mary Margaret O'Hern, would come to the school and teach each class Elocution Lessons. Most of the speaking parts were played by Eighth Graders and the other classes came on and off doing a musical number or an appropriate Irish poem that fit in the storyline. Mrs. O'Hern wrote the script, and decided what songs and poems were performed. The Sisters decided which class would do what and practiced during music time in the classroom. (Our brother, Richard - who turns seventy tomorrow - was in first grade and rushed home, burst in the backdoor shouting to Mother: "I have the lead in the St. Patricks Day Play!" "You do?", she asked, knowing that those parts went to older kids. "Yes", was his excited reply, "I lead everybody on the stage and everybody off!")
Next, we then went down to the meeting room in the basement of the school and practiced singing and gestures and then on the Fifteenth of March we walked down to Roosevelt Junior High School where we rehearsed on their stage and then again the next day and that was the sight of our performance for family and friends.
Mary Margaret had jet black hair, was married to an attorney and always smelled slightly of a wee touch of Irish Whiskey. She could be a stern task master and we were all a little in awe of her. She was very attractive - although as I now remember, that black hair sometimes had a little gray around the hairline. She usually wore her hair back with a black headband.
It was a big time for the Scovil kids, because we got a pair of new shoes. Our Easter shoes, that we wore for the performance and couldn't wear again until Resurrection Day itself. I remember surreptitiously getting the - most always - the black patent shoes out and wearing them around the bedroom in that interval between St. Patricks Day and Easter. There was no way I would put them on where my Mother could see me.
I don't remember who had the leads the year I was in Eighth Grade, it wasn't me, I may have had a line or two. I do remember thinking that when I was young and saw the Eighth Graders, that they looked so old and grown up but we didn't seem grown up at all. Another memory is of Jimmy Mason, a classmate, who had an amazing tenor voice, sang "Jerusalem" at the intermission. I have always loved that song.
The Play was always held on the Sixteenth of March and at the end of the evening, Msgr. Patrick O'Culletin, our Pastor, in his lilting Irish brogue, would come on stage and tell us and our parents what a wonderful job we had done and that we had the next day off to a cheering Grade School and polite applause from the parents.
Thanks, Fran, for helping me remember about one of the high points of the Grade School year, The St. Patricks Day Play.
Pat was driving and Eileen was her navigator and Fran and I were in the backseat. Fran and I went to school together at both St. Pats and AOL, our mothers were officers in the Women's Guild together and were friends. Now one of the things I like best about Fran is she has an amazing memory, she brought me back to times I had forgotten and I enjoyed my time with her.
One memory that she brought up was about the St. Patricks Day plays. I went to the southside St. Patricks school for Kindergarten and First Grade - we moved up on the bluff for a couple of years - and then back for Fourth through Eighth Grades.
Right after the beginning of the new year, Mary Margaret O'Hern, would come to the school and teach each class Elocution Lessons. Most of the speaking parts were played by Eighth Graders and the other classes came on and off doing a musical number or an appropriate Irish poem that fit in the storyline. Mrs. O'Hern wrote the script, and decided what songs and poems were performed. The Sisters decided which class would do what and practiced during music time in the classroom. (Our brother, Richard - who turns seventy tomorrow - was in first grade and rushed home, burst in the backdoor shouting to Mother: "I have the lead in the St. Patricks Day Play!" "You do?", she asked, knowing that those parts went to older kids. "Yes", was his excited reply, "I lead everybody on the stage and everybody off!")
Next, we then went down to the meeting room in the basement of the school and practiced singing and gestures and then on the Fifteenth of March we walked down to Roosevelt Junior High School where we rehearsed on their stage and then again the next day and that was the sight of our performance for family and friends.
Mary Margaret had jet black hair, was married to an attorney and always smelled slightly of a wee touch of Irish Whiskey. She could be a stern task master and we were all a little in awe of her. She was very attractive - although as I now remember, that black hair sometimes had a little gray around the hairline. She usually wore her hair back with a black headband.
It was a big time for the Scovil kids, because we got a pair of new shoes. Our Easter shoes, that we wore for the performance and couldn't wear again until Resurrection Day itself. I remember surreptitiously getting the - most always - the black patent shoes out and wearing them around the bedroom in that interval between St. Patricks Day and Easter. There was no way I would put them on where my Mother could see me.
I don't remember who had the leads the year I was in Eighth Grade, it wasn't me, I may have had a line or two. I do remember thinking that when I was young and saw the Eighth Graders, that they looked so old and grown up but we didn't seem grown up at all. Another memory is of Jimmy Mason, a classmate, who had an amazing tenor voice, sang "Jerusalem" at the intermission. I have always loved that song.
The Play was always held on the Sixteenth of March and at the end of the evening, Msgr. Patrick O'Culletin, our Pastor, in his lilting Irish brogue, would come on stage and tell us and our parents what a wonderful job we had done and that we had the next day off to a cheering Grade School and polite applause from the parents.
Thanks, Fran, for helping me remember about one of the high points of the Grade School year, The St. Patricks Day Play.
Monday, February 18, 2013
No Time At All
Recently I DVDd a movie of the stage play "Pippen", a musical based loosely on Charlemagne's son. It was a typical 1970s style play and I remember seeing it here in Peoria many years ago with Barry Williams (Greg Brady) in the lead role and his grandmother was played by Irene Ryan who originated the part on Broadway. Grandma sings one song and it has now become my new philosophy.
When you are as old as I, my dear
And I hope that you never are
You will woefully wonder why, my dear
Through your cataracts and catarrh
You could squander away or sequester
A drop of a precious year
For when your best days are yester
The rest'er twice as dear...
What good is a field on a fine summer night
When you sit all alone with the weeds?
Or a succulent pear if with each juicy bite
You spit out your teeth with the seeds?
Before it's too late stop trying to wait
For fortune and fame you're secure of
For there's one thing to be sure of, mate:
There's nothing to be sure of!
Chorus: Oh, it's time to start livin'
Time to take a little from this world we're giving
Time to take time, cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all....
I've never wondered if I was afraid
When there was a challenge to take
I never thought about how much I weighed
When there was still one piece of cake
Maybe it's meant the hours I've spent
Feeling broken and bent and unwell
But there's still no cure more heaven-sent
As the chance to raise some hell
Chorus:
Now when the drearies do attack
And a siege of the sads begins
I just throw these noble shoulders back
And lift these noble chins
Sages tweet that age is sweet
Good deeds and good work earns you laurels
But what could make you feel more obsolete
Than being noted for your morals?
Here is a secret I never have told
Maybe you'll understand why
I believe if I refuse to grow old
I can stay young till I die
Now, I've known the fears of seventy-six years
I've had troubles and tears by the score
But the only thing I'd trade them for
Is seventy-seven more...
Chorus: Oh, it's time to keep livin'
Time to keep takin' from the world we're given
Time to take time, cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all...
When you are as old as I, my dear
And I hope that you never are
You will woefully wonder why, my dear
Through your cataracts and catarrh
You could squander away or sequester
A drop of a precious year
For when your best days are yester
The rest'er twice as dear...
What good is a field on a fine summer night
When you sit all alone with the weeds?
Or a succulent pear if with each juicy bite
You spit out your teeth with the seeds?
Before it's too late stop trying to wait
For fortune and fame you're secure of
For there's one thing to be sure of, mate:
There's nothing to be sure of!
Chorus: Oh, it's time to start livin'
Time to take a little from this world we're giving
Time to take time, cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all....
I've never wondered if I was afraid
When there was a challenge to take
I never thought about how much I weighed
When there was still one piece of cake
Maybe it's meant the hours I've spent
Feeling broken and bent and unwell
But there's still no cure more heaven-sent
As the chance to raise some hell
Chorus:
Now when the drearies do attack
And a siege of the sads begins
I just throw these noble shoulders back
And lift these noble chins
Sages tweet that age is sweet
Good deeds and good work earns you laurels
But what could make you feel more obsolete
Than being noted for your morals?
Here is a secret I never have told
Maybe you'll understand why
I believe if I refuse to grow old
I can stay young till I die
Now, I've known the fears of seventy-six years
I've had troubles and tears by the score
But the only thing I'd trade them for
Is seventy-seven more...
Chorus: Oh, it's time to keep livin'
Time to keep takin' from the world we're given
Time to take time, cause spring will turn to fall
In just no time at all...
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Gallimaufry
Back in the 1950s, making Biblical movie epics seemed to be the formula for a theatrical hit. I saw several - "The Robe", "Quo Vadis" - are a couple that come to mind, one reason being is that as I attended a Parochial High School, we got out of class to walk to a downtown theater to see the movie. And as I remember, Vern and I went to see "The Greatest Story Ever Told" about a week before Leah was born. I don't remember much about the movie, only that I had to leave several times for bathroom breaks.
All this is leading up to the fact that all these years later, I DVDd "Ben Hur" and watched the entire movie for the first time. All anyone has talked about over the years is the chariot race scenes. Pretty exciting, but what is more interesting to me is how young and beautiful Charlton Heston was in the movie and the odyssey of his life and the end when his family is restored to him. I liked that they never showed the face of the Man from Nazereth. It is just a beautiful movie. A good movie for this Lenten season.
* * * * *
Today is the Gospel reading about the temptations of Christ, some versions of which, He quotes: "Satan get thee behind Me" And this reminds me of one of my favorite jokes:
The wife of a Evangelical Pastor loved pretty clothes and she spent a lot of money on them. The Pastor asked her to please stop several times because his salary was small and she promised she would but always went back to buying more clothes. Finally, he really got mad and told her if she bought any more dresses, he would divorce her. She was so shocked and loved her husband so much and promised to stop purchasing new things and she went several weeks not buying a thing.
A new dress shop opened in town and she walked by it several times and then finally just 'had to go in' and she sheepishly came home with a new item for her wardrobe. Her husband said: "You promised you wouldn't buy anything." "I know," she said, "I really wasn't going to but the dress was so cute and I tried it on and it looked so good and I just had to buy it." "You were tempted", her husband responded, "You should have said, 'Satan, get thee behind me." "I did," she answered, "And Satan said it looked good from there too!"
* * * * *
I may get drummed out of the Church for this but I have to give my opinion - My belief is that everyone is entitled to my opinion. This morning we were read a letter from our Bishop. There will be a rally on February 20 in Springfield supporting the sanctity of Marriage. I believe that Marriage is a Sacrament and should be just that a Sacrament to be celebrated between a man and a woman. But I also believe that two people of the same sex who love each other and maintain the same values, if they choose, should be free to be joined in a civil service and have the same rights - insurance, hospital visits, etc. as sacramentally married folks.
I also feel that a couple of the same sex should be allowed to adopt children if they have gone through the same fitness testing that heterosexual or single parents go through. I live in a neighborhood where there are same sex parents and I watch the care they show at our neighborhood parades, when they walk their children - I haven't seen them talk on cell phones while doing same and a lot of heterosexual parents do and also what other neighbors say about the kind of parents they are. I heard someone on EWTN give an explanation why same sex adoptions shouldn't be allowed and, sorry, but their reasons didn't hold water.
I really hope the Catholic Church will get out of bedroom issues and get back to preaching the Gospel, helping the poor - which we have lead the world in doing, and teaching what Jesus taught: "Love thy neighbor as thyself."
All this is leading up to the fact that all these years later, I DVDd "Ben Hur" and watched the entire movie for the first time. All anyone has talked about over the years is the chariot race scenes. Pretty exciting, but what is more interesting to me is how young and beautiful Charlton Heston was in the movie and the odyssey of his life and the end when his family is restored to him. I liked that they never showed the face of the Man from Nazereth. It is just a beautiful movie. A good movie for this Lenten season.
* * * * *
Today is the Gospel reading about the temptations of Christ, some versions of which, He quotes: "Satan get thee behind Me" And this reminds me of one of my favorite jokes:
The wife of a Evangelical Pastor loved pretty clothes and she spent a lot of money on them. The Pastor asked her to please stop several times because his salary was small and she promised she would but always went back to buying more clothes. Finally, he really got mad and told her if she bought any more dresses, he would divorce her. She was so shocked and loved her husband so much and promised to stop purchasing new things and she went several weeks not buying a thing.
A new dress shop opened in town and she walked by it several times and then finally just 'had to go in' and she sheepishly came home with a new item for her wardrobe. Her husband said: "You promised you wouldn't buy anything." "I know," she said, "I really wasn't going to but the dress was so cute and I tried it on and it looked so good and I just had to buy it." "You were tempted", her husband responded, "You should have said, 'Satan, get thee behind me." "I did," she answered, "And Satan said it looked good from there too!"
* * * * *
I may get drummed out of the Church for this but I have to give my opinion - My belief is that everyone is entitled to my opinion. This morning we were read a letter from our Bishop. There will be a rally on February 20 in Springfield supporting the sanctity of Marriage. I believe that Marriage is a Sacrament and should be just that a Sacrament to be celebrated between a man and a woman. But I also believe that two people of the same sex who love each other and maintain the same values, if they choose, should be free to be joined in a civil service and have the same rights - insurance, hospital visits, etc. as sacramentally married folks.
I also feel that a couple of the same sex should be allowed to adopt children if they have gone through the same fitness testing that heterosexual or single parents go through. I live in a neighborhood where there are same sex parents and I watch the care they show at our neighborhood parades, when they walk their children - I haven't seen them talk on cell phones while doing same and a lot of heterosexual parents do and also what other neighbors say about the kind of parents they are. I heard someone on EWTN give an explanation why same sex adoptions shouldn't be allowed and, sorry, but their reasons didn't hold water.
I really hope the Catholic Church will get out of bedroom issues and get back to preaching the Gospel, helping the poor - which we have lead the world in doing, and teaching what Jesus taught: "Love thy neighbor as thyself."
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Where Did The Baskets Come From
Matthew 14:16-21 But Jesus said, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." They said to him, "We have only five loaves here and two fish." And he said, "Bring them to me." Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass, and taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing. Then he broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And they all ate and were satisfied. And they took up twelve baskets full of the broken pieces left over. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.
Today was the funeral of our longtime friend, Bernice Knapp. Bernice and I cooked dinners for the Church and the Washington Day Dinner, worked on dance recitals together, and both raised six kids. She had five in four years (twins), all boys and Susan. I had six daughters in eight years. We had South side Peoria in common. She was a McIntyre from St. Boniface, I a Scovil from St. Patricks. Both of us strong women, Bernice was a bit more abrupt than me and there were times I had to explain she was really a good hearted person that just came across that way - tough. I always thought it was a device to keep those five boys in line and she just forgot sometimes who she was talking to. She was an amazing cook and baker. Her Christmas cookies were works of art and she could make the most beautiful - and tasty - wedding cakes. We had many good times together. The above Gospel was read at her service.
Father Gary Caster, who teaches out East now, was an assistant pastor in St. Patricks Parish, Washington several years ago, but today he was back at St. Pats to say her funeral Mass because they were good friends. He told that when he was working in the parish, he conducted a Bible Study class and one time these verses from Matthew were on the study list. He gave his interpretation of the reading and asked: "Are there any questions?" Bernice raised her hand: "Okay, I get the loaves and fishes and Jesus blessing them and there being more than enough to go around, but where did the twelve baskets come from?" He said, that he went into a long discussion that it wasn't about the baskets but about the origins of our Church's belief that this was the first time that Jesus fed us, the beginnings of our Eucharist. He said it was lengthy and philosophical and he thought quite brilliant and when he looked at Bernice again with a questioning look, she said: "You still didn't tell us where the baskets came from." And over the years, this became a joke plus a bonding statement between them.
At the end of his homily today, he looked at her husband, children and grandchildren and the congregation and said: " I've had some time to think about the baskets lately in this Gospel passage and I believe that they were a metaphor that there was more than enough to feed the multitude just as through the Eucharist He fills us with not only His Body and Blood but with His love. And all of you, Bob, Susan and the boys, the grandchildren and all of her friends, you are her baskets, because you are filled with the good times and memories that she gave to you."
Rest in peace, Bernice.
Today was the funeral of our longtime friend, Bernice Knapp. Bernice and I cooked dinners for the Church and the Washington Day Dinner, worked on dance recitals together, and both raised six kids. She had five in four years (twins), all boys and Susan. I had six daughters in eight years. We had South side Peoria in common. She was a McIntyre from St. Boniface, I a Scovil from St. Patricks. Both of us strong women, Bernice was a bit more abrupt than me and there were times I had to explain she was really a good hearted person that just came across that way - tough. I always thought it was a device to keep those five boys in line and she just forgot sometimes who she was talking to. She was an amazing cook and baker. Her Christmas cookies were works of art and she could make the most beautiful - and tasty - wedding cakes. We had many good times together. The above Gospel was read at her service.
Father Gary Caster, who teaches out East now, was an assistant pastor in St. Patricks Parish, Washington several years ago, but today he was back at St. Pats to say her funeral Mass because they were good friends. He told that when he was working in the parish, he conducted a Bible Study class and one time these verses from Matthew were on the study list. He gave his interpretation of the reading and asked: "Are there any questions?" Bernice raised her hand: "Okay, I get the loaves and fishes and Jesus blessing them and there being more than enough to go around, but where did the twelve baskets come from?" He said, that he went into a long discussion that it wasn't about the baskets but about the origins of our Church's belief that this was the first time that Jesus fed us, the beginnings of our Eucharist. He said it was lengthy and philosophical and he thought quite brilliant and when he looked at Bernice again with a questioning look, she said: "You still didn't tell us where the baskets came from." And over the years, this became a joke plus a bonding statement between them.
At the end of his homily today, he looked at her husband, children and grandchildren and the congregation and said: " I've had some time to think about the baskets lately in this Gospel passage and I believe that they were a metaphor that there was more than enough to feed the multitude just as through the Eucharist He fills us with not only His Body and Blood but with His love. And all of you, Bob, Susan and the boys, the grandchildren and all of her friends, you are her baskets, because you are filled with the good times and memories that she gave to you."
Rest in peace, Bernice.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Gallimaufry
I have had such a taste for chicken salad lately. I bought some from Alwan Brothers market, it just wasn't to my taste and neither was Lindys. So I called my friend, Marge, she has always made the best chicken salad.
She usually bakes or boils a chicken, picks and pulses it in the food processor, adds onion and celery - chopped, and miracle whip. Very simple but excellent.
I had three chicken breasts in the freezer that had been there for awhile. I boiled them with a garlic clove, a half a medium onion and about two stalks celery and four medium size carrots.
I chopped up the other half onion and about a three quarters cup chopped celery. When the chicken breasts were cooked and cooled, I finely diced them as well. I divided it into three parts, freezing two containers of the mixture - about a cup each - and added Miracle Whip to the third. Outstanding! Plain, but so darn good. I served it on lettuce for supper one night this week.
Today, I thawed out one of the frozen containers, added a quart of chicken stock, a medium size carrot - sliced - and a handful of tortellini and just had a really good soup for lunch. Thanks, Marge!
* * * * * *
The CBS Morning show has been broadcasting from New Orleans since Thursday. I've only been there a couple of times but love the ambience of the city and the history. It is just a magical place. The last time I was there was in the 80's. I was there for a meeting and stayed at the Hyatt Hotel attached to the Superdome. Each morning, when I awoke, I walked across the ramp from the hotel to the dome and encircled it. One day it was open and I walked inside. Pretty cool! When Hurricane Katrina happened and all of the bad press about what was going on, it made me sad. But seeing it on TV the last few days has given me hope in the human spirit that says: "We can make this good again!" It looks better than I remember it. Congratulations to NOLA!!
* * * * * *
This morning we woke up to snow on the ground. First time this year. Bill - the mowing, shoveling guy - was here about eight and cleaned a path to both doors. Its good to have people who take care of things like this. I am blessed.
She usually bakes or boils a chicken, picks and pulses it in the food processor, adds onion and celery - chopped, and miracle whip. Very simple but excellent.
I had three chicken breasts in the freezer that had been there for awhile. I boiled them with a garlic clove, a half a medium onion and about two stalks celery and four medium size carrots.
I chopped up the other half onion and about a three quarters cup chopped celery. When the chicken breasts were cooked and cooled, I finely diced them as well. I divided it into three parts, freezing two containers of the mixture - about a cup each - and added Miracle Whip to the third. Outstanding! Plain, but so darn good. I served it on lettuce for supper one night this week.
Today, I thawed out one of the frozen containers, added a quart of chicken stock, a medium size carrot - sliced - and a handful of tortellini and just had a really good soup for lunch. Thanks, Marge!
* * * * * *
The CBS Morning show has been broadcasting from New Orleans since Thursday. I've only been there a couple of times but love the ambience of the city and the history. It is just a magical place. The last time I was there was in the 80's. I was there for a meeting and stayed at the Hyatt Hotel attached to the Superdome. Each morning, when I awoke, I walked across the ramp from the hotel to the dome and encircled it. One day it was open and I walked inside. Pretty cool! When Hurricane Katrina happened and all of the bad press about what was going on, it made me sad. But seeing it on TV the last few days has given me hope in the human spirit that says: "We can make this good again!" It looks better than I remember it. Congratulations to NOLA!!
* * * * * *
This morning we woke up to snow on the ground. First time this year. Bill - the mowing, shoveling guy - was here about eight and cleaned a path to both doors. Its good to have people who take care of things like this. I am blessed.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Burma Shave
Cattle Crossing
Please Go slow
That Old Bull
Is Some Cow's Beau
About the only place we traveled when I was growing up, was to Dad's sister Olie's house outside Dunlap and to my mother's family in Oakland, Il or Terre Houte, In. Aunt Olie's was a destination of Sunday afternoons and Uncle Jess's or Uncle Russ's was during Caterpillar shut down in July.
As we traveled south and east down Route 136, a favorite pastime for the family - like the rest of the country - was reading the iconic advertising of a shaving soap, Burma Shave - five rectangle red signs with white lettering, one line each of a poem and the fifth sign, the words Burma Shave.
Before there were interstates and everyone drove on two lane roads, the signs were all along the road at the fence line of a farmer's field. Most were clever, and fun to read. Following are some of the actual signs:
Don't Stick Your Elbow
Out So Far
It May Go Home
In Another Car.
Burma Shave
She Kissed The Hairbrush
By Mistake
She Thought It Was
Her Husband Jake
Burma Shave
The Midnight Ride
Of Paul For Beer
Led To A Warmer
Hemisphere
Burma Shave
Around The Curve
Lickety-Split
Beautiful Car
Wasn't It?
Burma Shave
No Matter ThePrice
No Matter How New
The Best Safety Device
In The Car Is You
Burma Shave
Passing School Zone
Take It Slow
Let Our Little
Shavers Grow
Burma Shave
A Man, A Miss
A Kiss, A Curve
He Kissed the Miss
And Missed The Curve
Burma Shave
The only signs close to that idea that I've seen in the last few years, is along the Interstates, the NRA has some signs about owning guns, Protest signs around Metamora - for a few years they seemed to be protesting a lot, and South of Springfield, on I55, a farm had a statue of the Blessed Mother pretty close to the road and then on similar sized white signs in blue lettering on down the highway, the prayer "Hail Mary". It's been awhile since I've been that way, so I'm not sure it's still there.
Burma Shave signs, part of our history.
Please Go slow
That Old Bull
Is Some Cow's Beau
About the only place we traveled when I was growing up, was to Dad's sister Olie's house outside Dunlap and to my mother's family in Oakland, Il or Terre Houte, In. Aunt Olie's was a destination of Sunday afternoons and Uncle Jess's or Uncle Russ's was during Caterpillar shut down in July.
As we traveled south and east down Route 136, a favorite pastime for the family - like the rest of the country - was reading the iconic advertising of a shaving soap, Burma Shave - five rectangle red signs with white lettering, one line each of a poem and the fifth sign, the words Burma Shave.
Before there were interstates and everyone drove on two lane roads, the signs were all along the road at the fence line of a farmer's field. Most were clever, and fun to read. Following are some of the actual signs:
Don't Stick Your Elbow
Out So Far
It May Go Home
In Another Car.
Burma Shave
She Kissed The Hairbrush
By Mistake
She Thought It Was
Her Husband Jake
Burma Shave
The Midnight Ride
Of Paul For Beer
Led To A Warmer
Hemisphere
Burma Shave
Around The Curve
Lickety-Split
Beautiful Car
Wasn't It?
Burma Shave
No Matter ThePrice
No Matter How New
The Best Safety Device
In The Car Is You
Burma Shave
Passing School Zone
Take It Slow
Let Our Little
Shavers Grow
Burma Shave
A Man, A Miss
A Kiss, A Curve
He Kissed the Miss
And Missed The Curve
Burma Shave
The only signs close to that idea that I've seen in the last few years, is along the Interstates, the NRA has some signs about owning guns, Protest signs around Metamora - for a few years they seemed to be protesting a lot, and South of Springfield, on I55, a farm had a statue of the Blessed Mother pretty close to the road and then on similar sized white signs in blue lettering on down the highway, the prayer "Hail Mary". It's been awhile since I've been that way, so I'm not sure it's still there.
Burma Shave signs, part of our history.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Marla's Italian Beef
Some years back I was the chairman for St. Patrick's Women's Guild annual Christmas Bazaar. We did a little bit of reorganizing. Neighbor women got together and made things for the Bazaar ( I was in a group with my closest St. Pats neighbors that included Ann Faubel, Louise Kelly and Mary Underwood. There were about six in the group, I don't remember every one else or what we made, but it was fun getting together)
And we also decided to change the menu for the kitchen. Biscuits and gravy for the morning - a group of guys from the Knights of Columbus helped us with that. Early shoppers really liked them. I think Bernice Knapp was in charge of the kitchen for that part of the event. Bernice and I worked in the kitchen together on many parish events including the Washington Day Dinner....but that's another story. I took over for the lunch portion and made Italian Beef. I used Marla Jarboe's recipe. One of the best I've ever had. It follows:
A five and a half to six pound sirloin tip or rump roast
1 quart water
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 clove garlic
1 bay leaf
1 tsp dried red pepper flakes
1 tsp oregano
1 tsp salt.
Mix together, bring to a boil and add meat. Cook in a 350 oven until done (150 degrees on a meat thermometer). Cool and slice. Reheat in juice and serve.
I used Kaiser Rolls or Brat rolls buttered with garlic butter and served with pepperoncini.
This was a favorite at home as well and I served it often when we had guests. Just had to add a pasta dish and salad.
Enjoy!
And we also decided to change the menu for the kitchen. Biscuits and gravy for the morning - a group of guys from the Knights of Columbus helped us with that. Early shoppers really liked them. I think Bernice Knapp was in charge of the kitchen for that part of the event. Bernice and I worked in the kitchen together on many parish events including the Washington Day Dinner....but that's another story. I took over for the lunch portion and made Italian Beef. I used Marla Jarboe's recipe. One of the best I've ever had. It follows:
A five and a half to six pound sirloin tip or rump roast
1 quart water
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 clove garlic
1 bay leaf
1 tsp dried red pepper flakes
1 tsp oregano
1 tsp salt.
Mix together, bring to a boil and add meat. Cook in a 350 oven until done (150 degrees on a meat thermometer). Cool and slice. Reheat in juice and serve.
I used Kaiser Rolls or Brat rolls buttered with garlic butter and served with pepperoncini.
This was a favorite at home as well and I served it often when we had guests. Just had to add a pasta dish and salad.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Fifth Anniversary
This picture was taken of Vern when we were dating. I call it the "Sexy Vern" pose. The daughters call it the "Fonzie" pose. When I think of him at this time in our life together, I think of Old Spice and Dentyne gum. He used both. Today is the fifth anniversary of the day he died. I miss him but don't mourn him because I know he's in a better place.
Those we love don't go away.
They walk beside us every day.
Unseen, unheard, but always near.
Still loved, still missed and very dear.
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