Out of the Mouths of Babes

I had no sooner posted the vegetable soup recipe below than my four year old daughter rolled out of bed and padded in to my room for a hug and kiss. As we headed into the living room for, she looked up at me and said, "Can we go to the doughnut store for breakfast? I deserve a doughnut, Mom."

I swallowed my rising laughter and said, "Honey, do you know what 'deserve' means? It means you did something good or nice that should be rewarded. What have you done that's special and deserves a reward?"

Without missing a beat she squinched up her nose, smiled sweetly, tilted her head to one side, and said, "I'm going to let you take a shower without walking in on you and watching".

The laughter escaped this time.

And guess what?

She's going to get a doughnut for that one. :-)

The Simple Woman's Daybook ~ Wednesday, January 14th

FOR TODAY, January 14th

Outside my window sunlight and shadows dance the afternoon away in an open meadow, while a bluebird clasps a strand of barbed wire and sings to me.

I am thinking about the rest of my to-do's for today. I am thinking that I lack motivation to-do them. ;-)

I am thankful for renewed faith. How did I ever put one foot in front of the other without it?

From the learning rooms: Tonight, I have four chapters to read on the postpartum phase of childbirth, and one more to read on gram staining microbes. Oh yes, there are a bunch of dosage calculations to practice, and injections to practice before tomorrow's test-off.

From the kitchen: After spending most of today pondering what to make for dinner and feeling guilty about my recent lack of creative and elaborate meal preparation, I've decided to resurrect an old tradition that my oldest daughter and I used many years ago to make a fun and lighthearted evening out of tiredness: "snack supper"! An array of healthy snacks both warm and cold will be put out for hungry and weary family members tonight, and we'll enjoy the lack of pressure to create a formal meal while we unwind together and do what each of us needs to get done.

I am wearing my favorite old jeans that fit just right, and a black long-sleeved t-shirt.

I am creating a list of knitting projects in my mind and trying to choose which one I'll tackle next!

I am going to be really glad when my homework is done tonight. :-)

I am reading Maternal Child Nursing Care, by Wong et al

I am hoping that all test results will come back in normal ranges this Friday.

I am hearing nothing but the whirring of the fan within the computer, and the happy clacking sound of my fingers dancing on the keyboard.

Around the house, things seem to be in stasis. There will be time to clean, create, and rearrange on Saturday.

One of my favorite things is having a good laugh with a girlfriend!

A few plans for the rest of the week: A joint birthday party for our youngest and two of her friends at Pizza Inn on Saturday evening. It will be fun for the families to get together and have a good time watching our childrens' delight! The three mommies have already shared so many tears and so much laughter. It will be nice for the daddies to all finally meet!

Here is a picture thought I am sharing:



My husband has crystal clear green eyes. (He'll argue and tell you they're hazel). They are expressive eyes. They reveal his soul to me, his bride. There have been some days in our life together, though, when no language in the world could describe the depths of love, tenderness, concern, and joy emanating through these eyes: right before our first kiss...our wedding day, while he was saying his vows to me (see above)...and last night-- just because. :-) This love always makes me cry the happiest kind of tears.



Scoot on over to The Simple Woman's Daybook and check out some other thought-provoking entries...

Gratituesday

Today, I am thankful for...

My wonderful husband. He can make me smile and laugh again after the worst of long, hard days filled with bad news. Better yet, he can even get me cracking jokes and making him laugh, too. I am convinced that his hugs have magic powers. :-)

Lunch with Karen. We bemoaned a bad case of brain cramp after an intense morning of dosage calculations, formed a plan of attack to study the difficult stuff this month, and cracked central line and NG tube jokes, all over po' boys at Huckleberry's.

My dancing princess, a.k.a. the newly-minted four-year-old. She's absolutely right: twirling and giggling does put the day into proper perspective!

"I love you, Mommy" texts from my fourteen-year-old. :-)

What are YOU thankful for?

Happy New Year

I love a small-town Christmas! It seems every small Southern town has a Christmas parade, more concerts and suppers than you can count, and countless living nativities to be visited.

We participated in some local traditions for the first time this year. One of them was the Festival of Lights at the community college just down the road. Each year, the entire campus is covered in tiny white twinkling lights. Music plays, and student organizations sell hot food and drink to warm visitors who are enjoying the evening's offerings. Festivities open with the Childrens' Parade, led by the drum corps of the college marching band. Tricycles, bicycles, wagons, scooters and Big Wheels follow, pedaled and pushed by little ones or (in the case of wagons) pulled by parents. All the kids' vehicles are decorated to the hilt. An antique fire engine from the Perkinston Volunteer Fire Department brings up the rear, drive by Santa and Mrs. Claus, who set up residence and talk to local children after the parade. There is a living Nativity. There are horse and carriage rides, train rides, choral concerts in the chapel, and an orchestral concert under the four ancient live oak trees on the quad.

I didn't tell my daughter where we were going; I just told her I had a surprise for her and bundled her up warmly before heading out into the cold night. Her eyes lit up when she saw all the lights twinkling, and the next three hours were pure magic for her. She cheered every single trike and scooter along the parade route. When Santa got off the fire engine and asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she smiled and replied, "A hug." He promptly gave her one! We rode in an open horse-drawn carriage, and she felt like Cinderella going to the ball. She gave a gracious royal wave to everyone we passed, too!

She couldn't understand why the figures in the living Nativity wouldn't talk back to her. "I have a lot of questions for them, Mommy!", she said. "And besides, I wanted to give Baby Jesus a kiss. It's His birthday, you know." We walked back up the hill, making frosty clouds with our breath and giggling in delight. Our noses were cold, but our hearts were warmed by the magic of Christmas. She danced under the oak trees that were aglow with lights, her face turned upward in rapture. Finally she stopped twirling, looked at me and said "Carry me home please", so I lifted her up into my arms. Her weary head nestled into my shoulder and I walked slowly and carefully to the truck, carrying a most precious gift: the faith, trust, and love of a child.

The next three weeks were a whirlwind of clinical rounds and exams, culminating in finals and leaving me utterly exhausted. After the last exam, I got to pick up my husband's three children at the airport and bring them home to his waiting arms. The children "oohed" and "aahed" at the Christmas lights Daddy had put up twinkling on the house; my heart melted when I saw the tears glistening in his eyes as he embraced all three, saying, "This is the only gift I needed".

The next day we began our Christmas baking, and delicious smells from the kitchen wafted down the road outside! Cookies, cakes, candied pecans...plenty to share with friends and to enjoy with hot cocoa in the evenings. My husband's parents were able to join us for a weekend and enjoy the preparations and the little ones.

Our poor littlest one came down with tonsilitis and was sick through Christmas, but still able to enjoy it in the midst of the ups and downs.

Perhaps the greatest gift for me was five consecutive days off for my husband, who works so hard to provide for us all.

Now, he's back to work, and his children will be going back to their mother's in two more days. I'll be starting a new semester of nursing school, twice as busy as the last one. The years seem to be spinning by faster than we'd like them to.

Yet as we prepare to welcome a New Year, there is so much for which to be thankful!!

--Our healthy children who are all growing and thriving and learning
--A secure job in insecure times
--A warm home that is our own
--Plenty of food to eat, and enough to share with those in need
--Unconditional love which fills our four walls and binds us together
--My body healing from years of health problems, and enabling me to continue to pursue my degree
--A surprise late Christmas gift of a full scholarship for the remainder of my degree!!

...and so much more.

May you all be blessed with health, peace, and faith in 2009. May you all have the compassion to reach out and help your fellow man, even if all you have to give is a smile.

Abundance

On the drive home from preschool, my 3 year old daughter handed my husband her latest art project: "Look, Dad, it's a cornucopia!" The brown construction paper horn was adorned with several kinds of fruits and vegetables she had carefully colored and glued onto it. Daddy had just started telling her how nice it was, but she could contain herself no more and excitedly burst forth: "Dad! A cornucopia is a horn-shaped basket that the Indians weaved and they used it to carry lots and lots of vegetables and fruits." She took a breath and continued in a more knowing tone. "The Indians didn't have those big old Wal Mart bags to carry their groceries in , Daddy." My poor husband nearly drove off the road. Tears of mirth ran down our faces and we both shook with silent laughter. After a few minutes we had recovered enough to reassure her that she was absolutely correct.

The next day she and I were hanging her cornucopia up on the kitchen door. "Mommy," she said wistfully, "I wish everybody had cornucopia baskets to carry their groceries. I don't like Wal Mart bags." I agreed wholeheartedly, and my thoughts drifted to sustainability. Many times a day, everything within me yearns to go back to a simpler time and way of life. I'm sure the Indians had a basket more practically-shaped than a cornucopia for carrying food from the fields to storage, but they first had to weave that basket. It would have been a masterful piece of functional art that endured for years. The convenience of that basket would have been appreciated all the more by its user for the labor and creativity that went into its making.

To me, living simply and frugally does not equal drab misery. It is an opportunity to express my creativity in all aspects of life--an exercise resulting in beautiful, unique objects that grant many years of aesthetic pleasure and personal satisfaction in the course of service. This thought makes me smile almost as widely as my daughter's innocent humor.

Not three days ago I was feeling overwhelmed and pressured by the demands of the world. After having a good cry and venting some frustration, I still didn't feel entirely better. After this conversation with my daughter, however, all seems to have fallen back into place for me. Just because my home and my life are assaulted by a barrage of demands doesn't necessarily mean that those demands are relevant, or that they have a place in my realm. I can simply and painlessly say "no" to so many of them, freeing myself to be mindfully, creatively, joyfully present in the here and now to meet those that are appropriate and relevant.

And a little child shall lead them...

Stress has been replaced with gratitude, and there is much for which I am thankful. With every silent "thank you" I breathe toward the heavens, life glows brighter and richer and more precious.

"Every time we say "thank you", we experience

nothing less than heaven on earth"

~Sarah ban Breathnach

Sweet Potato Pie

The closest most folks Up North and Out West get to a sweet potato is candied yams at Thanksgiving, and that's a shame. The yam is actually no relation. It is also harder, drier, and woodier-tasting, so it's always served up slathered in butter, brown sugar and marshmallows. Yuck.

The sweet potato is actually a dietary hero in disguise, among the most nutritious vegetables you could eat. It is low in sodium, and very low in saturated fat and cholesterol. It is also an awesome source of dietary fiber. One cup of sweet potato that was baked in its skin is full of Vitamin B6 and Potassium, has almost twice the recommended daily allowance of Vitamin A, 65 percent of the recommended amount of Vitamin C, and half the daily requirement of Manganese. It is a rich source of B Vitamins, which help the body to combat stress. In particular, it is a good source of Folic Acid, which is important not only for infant development in utero but for many critical processes in the body. It is a good source of Omega-3 and Omega-6 Fatty Acids, contains all nine of the essential amino acids, and is powerfully anti-inflammatory. Who knew?

The sweet potato has a low glycemic index. Although it contains natural sugars, they digest slowly, causing a gradual rise in blood sugar so you feel satisfied longer. When you feel full, you eat less and eat less often. What could be healthier than that? Sweet potatoes grown in the South taste many times sweeter than their Northern counterparts. It's no wonder they abound by the truckload around here.

Sweet potato pie is as quintessentially Deep South as grits, turnip greens, and sweet tea. Most recipes are loaded with butter, sugar and Karo syrup and result in a custard consistency. Tasty, but not healthy.

In my quest to eat locally grown and produced food year-round, I recently found myself with a large bag of sweet potatoes acquired for a bargain, so I set about creating a healthier version of sweet 'tater pie that lets its natural sweetness truly shine. This pie is more of a dinner veggie than a dessert--which is probably sacreligious in country cookin', bless my little heart. I also drink unsweet tea, so I guess I'll never be truly Southern, but at least I do my grits up proper and slow-cook 'em!

Rosie's Sweet 'Tater Pie

(makes two 9" pies)

Ingredients

1 recipe of your favorite pie crust yielding two 9" crusts OR 2 ready made refrigerated pie crusts

4 medium OR 3 large sweet potatoes

1 15 oz can of Eagle fat-free condensed milk
2 eggs, beaten
3/4 cup organic turbinado sugar
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp cinnamon



Method

-Wash and prick skins of sweet potatoes and bake at 300 degrees Fahrenheit for 75 - 90 minutes. They should be thoroughly soft and the juices bubbling through the holes you pricked in the skins should be somewhat caramelized. Allow them to cool to room temperature, peel, and scrape the orange flesh into a bowl. Mash with a fork until they are the consistency of lumpy mashed potatoes.

- Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

- Place pie crusts into the bottom of two 9" deep dish pie pans, and crimp the edges however you like.

-Put on some music, preferably Alabama's "Song of the South". It doesn't help the pie turn out better, but it's fun to sing along.

- To the mashed sweet potatoes add the beaten eggs and one third of the condensed milk. Blend on low speed with a hand mixer. Add the sugar, and blend. Continue adding the condensed milk a little at a time, beating on low. Add spices and continue beating. Increase speed and whip the mixture until it is thoroughly blended and there are no lumps.

- Divide the sweet potato mixture evenly into both pie pans and bake uncovered for 30 minutes. When a sharp knife or skewer inserted in the center comes out clean, the pies are done.

- Allow pies to cool and continue setting for 30 minutes. Serve at room temperature.

- Keeps well in the refrigerator and may also be served cold.

Enjoy, y'all!

How do seasons change here? Let me count the ways...

Autumn has always been my favorite time of year. I love endless banks of gorgeous colored leaves; they seem to be celebrating the past year's achievements before letting go to make room for new growth. I love the crisp, cool mornings and evenings. I love the sound my feet make shuffling through carpets of dried leaves, and the musty smell that rises every time I take a step. I love the hint of smoke that rises on the air...a spicy middle note of the ambrosia to my senses that is autumn.

I do miss Northern autumns. In South Mississippi's warm, Gulf Coast climate the seasons are not so clearly delineated. Folks around here are wont to describe spring or fall as "raggedy". Autumn is not the glorious display of color that it is in other parts of the country. Although puncutated by an occasional flaming orange maple or brilliant red crepe myrtle, the piney woods stay green. How then, you might ask, do we mark the season without the changing of the colors?

You know it's fall when...

10. You actually don't run the A/C for a whole week.
9. An occasional punch of fall color pops out and startles you on a drive through the piney woods.
8. The love bugs are finally GONE!
7. Pine straw gets stuck in your flip flops when you walk.
6. There are only 2 vehicles in line at the ice machine.
5. Winter clothes appear in the store: t-shirts and shorts in darker colors.
4. The morning dew doesn't burn off the grass until at least 7 am.
3. Turnips and sweet 'taters replace watermelons in the back of pickup trucks on the side of the road.
2. You get pelted with acorns from a live oak while soaking up the sunshine.
1. It's so frigid outside in the morning that you really have to bundle up on your way into work, so you dig a sweatshirt out of winter storage.


*Stay tuned for "Signs of Winter in the Deep South: Are the Fire Ants Hibernating YET??"