Cozy Kitties

Three-weeks old (tomorrow),

Tickles' late-summer

litter of five

cozied up together

this cool-autumn

morning

while mamma was

out and about.

Nature's Finishing Touches

Looking up, up, up... into the face of Noah's sunflower, we see a brown center, dying outer petals and waning leaves.

Five months ago in his kindergarten class, Noah sprouted this plant from seed. Each week, we watched as the sunflower stretched to its towering ten-foot zenith with flowing, elephant-ear leaves. We witnessed its survival through a summer storms: high winds and shredding hail. In spite of toil and snares, this plant finally bloomed – days before Noah started first grade.

Its huge head constantly changed: green to yellow to brown, followed by another pattern of those colors. The plant withstood the first hard frost – although its large leaves and petals began to fade. Still, death deceives.

Looking closely into its composite head,
we now see tiny flowers – some yellow, others brown,
all with green, bowled bottoms – attached to small, white-and-brown striped bumps.

With yet a closer look, we recognize those fuzzy, striped bumps as

sunflower seeds –

packed pointy-side down.

Maybe a tasty treat...
Or perhaps new life...

But either way,

Nature's Finishing Touches.

Vanilla Sugar

Since some have asked, I'll write a blip about vanilla sugar – an ethnic ingredient I use in my Nordic recipes, including Sandbakkels from the 'Crystal Anniversary' entry and Brown Sugar Cookies as I noted in the Comments section of the 'Happy Endings Recipe' entry.)

Where Americans use liquid vanilla extract to flavor sweets, Scandinavians measure up a fluffy flavoring of tiny, dark vanilla seeds set in powdered sugar and potato starch called 'vaniljsocker' in Swedish, 'vaniljesukker' in Norwegian and 'vaniljasokeri' in Finnish. The product is packaged by DanSukker and sold internationally.

I get my supply locally at Nisswa's Nordic Living or in Minneapolis at IKEA. It costs $4-$6 for a 170 gram box which holds about 43 servings – one teaspoon each for most recipes.

Besides Nordic recipes, I use vanilla sugar when whipping up wild blueberry pancakes, muffins, waffles or in other treats that can use a boost of my favorite flavor – vanilje!

That version is Norwegian... the language rolled off my tongue tonight at supper as I demonstrated what is soon to come.

"Four more days," I said referring my Norwegian host parents visit which starts with their arrival late this coming Wednesday. Aaron said, "And then what – you'll be talking like that?"

"Yes! For four whole days," I replied. "I can't wait. Soon I'll be dreaming again in Norwegian."

We've done a ton of work and have a ton more to go.

So for now,

I bid you:

"Sweet dreams" –

as fragrant as

vanilje
sukker.

Crystal Anniversary

Roll out the Scandinavian table runner.

Pull out the crystal candle holder and wedding plate.

Set up the center-piece of silk roses and ivy.

Fill sandbakkels
with chocolate and
chopped nuts.

(An Americanized Nordic treat.)





Light the Unity Candle – once again.

Today we celebrate 15 years of matrimony –

our Crystal Anniversary.




Upon receiving this treat, my groom said, "Your sandbakkels are better than any others I've had."

Here's why:

Wendy's Secret Sandbakkel Recipe


1 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2-1/2 cups flour
2 egg whites (not yolks!) or 1 whole egg
1 teaspoon vanilla sugar (a Nordic ingredient)

Cream butter and sugar. Add egg whites. Stir in flour and vanilla sugar to make dough. Form a small ball and press into a sandbakkel tin, spreading the dough thinly. Repeat, filling the set of tins. Bake at 350ºF for 15 minutes or until golden brown. Cool. Turn over each tin and tap out the sandbakkel. Fill with fruit preserves or pudding and top with whip cream.

Or try our family's favorite filling:
In a small pot, melt chocolate chips with a splash of cream. Use the liquid mix to fill the sandbakkel. Top with chopped almonds or hazelnuts.

Brew a cup of coffee or cocoa. Serve on a crystal platter and celebrate with us!

Autumn

That time of year –


when vivid foliage vibrates against powdered blue skies...






when Jack Frost

paints intricate patterns

upon plants

close to the earth...







when colorful branches frame scenes of home...

as we await
winter's coming –


is the lovely season

we call

Autumn.

Hog-Nosed Hatchling

Every year about this time

the boys find a hog-nosed

hatchling...


Nearly a decade ago, an adult eastern hog-nosed snake startled us the first time we encountered the species on a hike in the neighboring woods.



When alarmed, the snake – in a cobra fashion – rises up, flattens its head and strikes out towards danger, often emitting its tongue.

We've since learned the snake is not poisonous and rarely bites humans. Even so, we teach the boys to respect all of Nature's Wonders.


Toads are this species' favorite food. These hoppers inhabit our yard.

One year, a large toad lived in my flower bed.

Late that summer, Isaac found a long eastern hog-nosed snake there.

To show us, Isaac picked up the monster and called for us. We noticed a big lump in its coils. Upon its release, the snake belched up a large toad. As the toad fled, the snake delivered a killing strike before slithering away from our sons – who were awestruck by another of this species' "shocking" escape tactics.

Weeks later, the snake's miniature appeared in our yard. Apparently, this species prefers our sandy soil and deciduous/coniferous-mixed forest for hatching its young. Little ones began appearing here annually in September.


On Saturday, Noah was biking around the yard when he noticed a slithering movement in the grass. He gathered the family for this year's show.

Together we watched another emergence of Nature's Wonders: the cobra-like dance performed by this eastern Hog-Nosed Hatchling.

Wings On His Shoes

The phone rang Thursday eveing as Aaron, Noah and I walked out the door to leave for sixth-grade football practice. Aaron grabbed it and hollered, "It's for you, Mom."

"Hello," I said taking the phone. On the other end, my eighth-grade son replied, "Mom, guess what?"

Isaac was calling from this season's fourth cross-country meet where he'd just finished the two-mile junior-high race. He said, "I took third!"

"Alright!" I cheered. "That's your best finish yet, right?"

"Right!" Isaac said.

Last year as a seventh grader running on this same course, Isaac finished in seventh place. He was thrilled then with his first-ever Top Ten placing. Later during that cross-country season, Isaac placed fourth in another meet for his best-ever finish during seventh grade.

This year – early in his second cross-country season – Isaac had a few tough starts: stepping onto a tree branch that jabbed into his leg and drew blood during the first meet and stumbling into a pothole and rolling his ankle at the second one. Isaac felt down and out with those less-than-his-best finishes.

On the morning before the team's third meet, dark clouds hung in the sky. Isaac started out the door on his way to catch the bus and shouted, "Pray for rain. No! Pray for thunder and lightning, so they cancel the meet!"

That's when I remembered: Hey! We forgot to PRAY – for help. As Isaac ran down the lane to the bus, I prayed for God's protection and guidance to see Isaac safely through the course to the finish without injury or stumble.

Later that evening, the team bus returned to school. Isaac phoned home for pick up. When he got in the car, I asked questions about how much homework he had and other "safe" subjects. I knew – from earlier instances – that my addressing the race could pull him down into the dumps for the rest of the night. When he was ready, Isaac would bring up the race.

After a few-minutes drive, we arrived home. Isaac unloaded his backpack, reached in his pants pocket, pulled out a ribbon and said, "Oh yeah. I took seventh."

I smiled, "Really? That's incredible! You must not have had any troubles on the course then, huh?"

Isaac said, "Nothing. It rained. Everybody else was complaining and saying how hard it was. I passed them right up. I love running in the rain! It helped me get a ribbon."

I asked, "You know what else helped? Today I prayed for you. I asked for God to send his angels to protect you along the course. And it worked. We forgot to pray before the first two meets."

A week later – before the fourth meet – Isaac was on his way out the door to school. From the stairwell, I hollered: "WAIT! Let me pray for you."

Isaac stopped in the lower entry and said, "What?"

"Remember last week?" I asked. "We need to pray. May God guide you safely along the course and give you wings on your shoes to do your best."

"Wings on my shoes?" Isaac scoffed. "That's for track – not cross-country."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever! Wings are symbolic – for speed and angels. I pray that God will send both to help you along the way! You better get moving or you'll miss the bus."

Isaac bolted out the door. Hours later (on our way to Aaron's football practice) the phone rang and Isaac uttered the words: "I took third!"

When I met Isaac at school for pick up that night, he was wearing his third-place medal around his neck. I said, "You got a medal!"

He said, "It's just a track medal made into one for cross-country."

Looking at the image, I gasped. To me, this medal was a reflection of answered prayer for Wings on His Shoes.

Happy Endings Recipe

Come join me for a cuppa.

Come on and take a seat.

Come join me in the coffee nook

for a chat and a sweet treat.


It's one of THOSE days. Soft rain patters outside. A crisp, autumn breeze flows through the window screen. An inspiration to bake strikes. On a day like this, a person appreciates not only the aroma from the oven but also its warmth. I pre-heat the oven, open a kitchen drawer and pull out an old cookbook that I bought as a newlywed.

At the time, my hubby and I lived in a western Twin Cities suburb near the shores of Lake Minnetonka. There in a second-hand shop, I sorted through books finding – what for me has become – a treasure: a 1979 edition of the Minnesota Heritage Cookbook.

Thumbing through its pages, I found many Nordic recipes for main dishes, soups, breads, desserts and more. As a bride married to a groom – who boasted of his Norwegian blood – I felt called to celebrate his family heritage and my adopted one. Smiling, I paid the store cashier a couple dollars and made the book ours.

It proved especially useful the day I sought a cookie recipe with no white sugar – ours had run out. In the book's chapter called "Happy Endings," I found a Norwegian recipe called Brown Sugar Cookies.

Today the book falls open to that well-worn page. I pull out the bowls, spoons and ingredients, but hardly need to consult the recipe. Being a family favorite and a potluck hit, the recipe is one I often make (using whole oatmeal). With the baking done, I put a couple cookies on a plate and freeze the rest.

In the coffee nook, I relax with a treat thinking about my main focus for the upcoming week. With heavenly help via my parents and sister, our house arrangement will flip flop giving the older boys their own bedrooms and providing an office-guest room to accommodate upcoming household needs.

In addition, I'll make final arrangements for our church's Sunday School kickoff on Sept. 16th. As the new superintendent, I'm praying for this year's program reach its full potential and trusting God to meet the necessary provisions – a true leap of faith. I know there is light in the darkness.

The sun sets. The boys go to bed. The rain patters no more. A crisp wind still blows through the window screen. I give thanks for my cuppa. I'm ready for bed. Soon there will be another day, and some other time, for the coffee nook and that Happy Endings Recipe.

Miracles Galore

Take care to wonder at the world through which you wander.

Never hurry by an open door.

For you live in a universe
full of miracles galore.

Look for God
in small things.

Drops of rain
or grain of sand.

Praise Him whenever
you find Him
in anything small.

Years ago as a parochial-school first grader, I learned this song from my teacher – a little nun with piercing eyes hidden behind black, cat-eye glasses and her hair tucked under a habit. Although her mannerisms often frightened me back then, she instilled in me a love for our Creator and all the world's beauty by using this song.

This morning – more than three decades later – those words rushed back to me as I wandered through my flower garden, seeing life restored, after last night's rain.

Aiming my camera at the snap dragon Isaac gave me for Mother's Day, I noticed on the bloom – a tiny spider covered with droplets.

Then I turned my camera onto beads of water gathered on daylily leaves. Reviewing the shot, I noticed that I'd captured a burst of reflecting sunlight. Small things...
Great wonders!

How I wish that I could remember more than that song's refrain and first verse. Still, the words – I do recall – offer immense comfort as I wander... discovering Miracles Galore.

Still Summer: Surprise!

Besides generating perspiration from our brows, this week's heat wave induced new life – brought forth by Tickles.


Aaron's mamma cat gave birth to quintuplets after yesterday's 94ºF/35ºC heat. Tickles announced their arrival – immediately after the boys and I arrived home from the cross-country team dinner – by jumping onto the back step.

"Hey! Tickles is skinny," Aaron said and took off running to the nursery box prepared in the three-season porch. As Noah unlocked the back door, Tickles ran into house seeking fresh water. I lingered outside listening and heard:

Mew. Mew. Mew.

"Hey, Aaron. How many are there?" I asked thinking "grandpa" was handling his pet's babies. Poking his head around the house's corner, he said, "They're not here."

I beckoned, "Listen."

Soon Aaron heard the tiny voices and said, "They're under the step."

He crouched down looking between the slats and counted five kittens.

"They're all orange! Guess we know who the dad is," he said referring to our neighbors' orange tomcat with which we'd seen Tickles frolicking a couple months ago.

At the time, we'd guessed he was the father of this year's spring batch which also produced five marmalade kittens. The difference? The April 23rd litter had two females and three males versus four males and one female in this batch born September 5th.

Aaron said, "This IS the best day ever. First I was voted class president of the sixth grade. Now Tickles has kittens!"

I encouraged President Aaron to leave Tickles and the babies under the step for the night. "It's cooler there than in that inferno of a porch," I said. "Besides it's too noisy with Dad still working on the roof and the siding."

My advice worked overnight.

By the time I returned this morning from walking our dog Moose, Aaron had the kittens in the nursery box with the porch door shut tight. He'd worried all night about the kittens' safety against the very beast that sparked their life. Truly the diplomat, President Aaron said, "George has got a tough job."

I sighed thinking: What about the president's mom? Besides household duties, this one's got to manage student schedules, homework and remodeling projects in between a kitten nursery... going into the autumn.

What was Tickles thinking? Her babies won't be weaned until November. Maybe Tickles knows something I don't. Maybe summer won't end and this heat wave will go on and on...

Or maybe,
it's high time to relax:

Forget the worries, seize the moment and enjoy a cuddly bundle.

Afterall, Tickles does. It's when this mamma cat focuses on nurturing her young that she looks and acts most healthily.

And so, for the moment – out in our porch – it's Still Summer: Surprise!

September's Sun

For one mighty moment

at the break of each day,

the fiery
ball crests
the foothills –

its rays pierce the morning hues – dancing in play.

Next Chapter

First Verse



THE COMPROMISE



Mom's annual portrait –


Their pose choice...






... waiting for the bus

on their First Day
of School
for Year
2007-08.

Yippee!

End O' Summer

With his first cast, our family's bass master reeled in his mimic minnow to land this sunrise catch.

Moments earlier, we'd dropped off his brother for this season's last morning practice. School starts tomorrow. And then, Isaac's team will meet weekday afternoons.

Because I had to drive in early today, Aaron begged a duo purpose:
a sunrise-fishing trip during Isaac's cross-country practice. While the boys enjoyed their outings, I made the most of mine:






capturing scenes of seasonal transition...









... walking along the highway hugging the lake shore...








... admiring the sun's rays dancing on the water stirred by a gentle breeze...









... before calling Aaron



to gather his rod

and tackle,

so we could pick up Isaac

on this morning –



at the End O' Summer.

How Many Roads...

... must a man walk down before you can call him a man?

As I sang Bob Dylan's song this afternoon – while sitting on our under-reconstruction deck/three-season porch, playing my two old, but newly-strung, guitars – I thought about all the hoops I jumped through last week... and how many more I have this month.

At times, the pressure seems insurmountable. Thankfully, this morning's meditation reminded me: I am not alone. God sends help via his angels among us.

For me, yesterday's tears turn to today's joy as people step forward offering assistance.

To his song's rhetorical question, Dylan's says: "The answer my friend is Blowin' in the Wind."

But I know the answer truly lies in my Father's Hands. And so... to Him,
I bring my worries, place my trust and relax – strumming a tune –
before taking the next turn Along Life's Road.

The Present

"You must live in the present and not in the past."

"Aye, but for the past, there would be no present."

"And but for the present, no future."


As such, it came to me on this first of September morning walking Along Life's Road.