Cinnamon Bunny Rolls

Using the pre-made cinnamon rolls (really easy!), unroll a couple of the rolls, place them as bunny ears. Add raisins or chocolate chips for eyes and nose, sliced almonds for the teeth. Cute! We have family visiting this week - our grandaughter helped make these faces.

Our son calls them Cinnabunnies.

Joy and Drudgery

"I saw this principle in operation when I visited the Dohnavur Fellowship in India. There, day after day, year in and year out, Indian women (mostly single) care for little children, handicapped children, infirm adults, old folks. They don't go anywhere. They have none of our usual forms of amusement and diversion. They work with extremely primitive equipment - there is no running water, for example, no stoves but wood burning ones, no washing machines. In one of the buildings I saw this text: "There they dwelt with the King for His work." That's the secret. They do it for Him. They ask for and receive His grace to do it. I saw the joy in their lovely faces."

-Elisabeth Elliot
Keep a Quiet Heart, page 225-226
The reference quoted is 1 Chronicles 4:23

Easy Oven Cleaner

This formula is my go-to for keeping the oven presentable. Spills happen. Life is messy. But you already know that.

Easy Oven Cleaner
3/4 cup baking soda
1/4 cup salt
1/4 cup water
Mix to make a paste. Smear on the messy spots in the oven. Let sit a few hours, or best, overnight. Wipe clean.

I am attempting to switch away from all the heavy chemical laden cleaners. At one rental we had a double oven. The bottom oven looked like someone had melted half a gallon of chocolate marble ice cream in it. Shudder. I didn't even open the bottom oven for months. We were having a crowd over, though, and I needed both ovens. For that, I bought a spray can of "unscented, odorless" cleaner. It wasn't. But it did the nasty job. Cleaning someone else's mess is different than cleaning your own. Do you feel that way? Our own dirt and mess we can tolerate. Someone else's dirt, though, is - well - disgusting! Anyway, that oven cleaned up fine and was sparkly once all the ice cream - or whatever it was - was gone.

This formula is easy to mix with stuff you already have in the cupboards, easy to spread, and it is easy to go do something else for a few hours while it does its job in the oven, soaking up the goo on the bottom of the oven. If you need to spread it on the sides of the oven, thin it with a little bit more water.

Wipe clean - not perfect, but a clean oven makes me feel like a good housekeeper. And that is a good thing. Perhaps I should mention that this works best if done routinely, as spills happen. Not waiting months until the baked on mess has solidified enough to be carbon dated. But you already know that.

Oh, and I should mention, this formula is from Martha Stewart. Guess I should mention, too, that no reference to a certain product name is intended.

Lessons From the Garden

Saturday, our daughter and I attended a Western Landscape Symposium. Partly because we are new to this area, this unique climate, and mostly because we love plants and gardening, we looked forward to a full day of learning and listening to experienced gardeners who love what we love. She signed up for a plot in a community garden which she can start working in next month. I have a raised bed with chard, beets and spinach held over through the winter, and in a couple weeks can start some of the cool season crops.

We were surprised by how much the speakers love what they do. Their delight and enthusiasm was contagious, whether they were talking about soil or bugs or landscaping or vegetables.

The gal who talked about knowing the condition of our soil is a thirty year veteran of soil study and soil love. (I have some sons I thought might make a career out of dirt, the way they reveled in it when they were younger.) This gal thrilled to talk about and share her knowledge. Obviously, what she shared with us was just the tip of the iceberg of all she knew: chemical properties, the living, breathing processes going on in our soil, [a new term I learned: aggregation, the microbial exudates (micro-poo) that aggregates in our soil, increasing the porosity, aeration and drainage in our soil - love that thought, micro-poo from all the critters in the soil], and that some factors of our soil cannot be changed. Some things we just have to accept and work with. For example, here in the west, our soils have lime. In the east, gardeners add lime. She suggested a test. Put some soil from the yard in a container and sprinkle vinegar on it. If there is lime, it will foam up, like when you mix baking soda and vinegar. We tried it when we got home, and sure enough, the dirt fizzled and sizzled. The presence of lime means certain plants will not do well. Don't expect to grow eastern plants in western soil. Accept that, and plant what thrives here.

Lesson:  What do I love to study and talk about?            
             What conditions do I need to accept and work with, not against?
             How about you, how would you answer these questions?

The bug talk was my favorite. A huge surprise because I am a gardener squeamish around bugs and crawly things. Ugh. This man, an entemologist walked onto the stage wearing red converse. We knew right away he would not be boring. Understanding that the larvae and the different stages of an insect's life each require a different type of food, shelter and needs was fascinating. He actually plants certain types of flowers and plants to attract those shuddery creepy crawling things I attempt to avoid. Or eliminate the moment I see them. He encourages them. He encourages his grandchildren to admire the caterpillars that will turn in to beautiful butterflies, accepting the little bit of leaf damage they do as part of the process of the beauty they will create as the mature butterflies flutter around our gardens drinking nectar from the flowers. I have a new perspective. When I see one of these caterpillars, I can think, "Oh look, you are a baby butterfly." I won't go so far as to say, "Cute," but I understand, in a new, deeper way, that there is give and take in nature, in my garden, and accept the processes that go on as part of God's created world, part of His design. 

Lesson: Those in life who bug us, who annoy us - understand they have needs of their own and when possible, provide for those needs. If we understand and accept, we have a better chance to happily co-exist.

The gardener who talked about growing vegetables was a many year veteran of community gardens, working in schools, low income neighborhoods, churches and businesses, offering classes and advice to encourage healthy eating and understand our food and where it comes from. He also was a deep well of experience and information, listing specific varieties that do well in this area and techniques, full of stories and joy that overflowed as he described delicious produce. Made me want to crunch on raw vegies, fresh from the sun-warmed garden (a few months from now).

Lesson: The work we love should be shared with others, for their benefit and nurture.

Where we live is considered high desert. Many of the homes landscape with rock. As renters, we work with the landscape our owners put in, which, fortunately for us, includes some patches of grass and evergreen shrubs. With the decorative rock. I don't mind, as long as there is some green, and they said I could plant whatever I wanted. We will be under water restrictions this year, limiting plant choices. We have lived with water restrictions before, and I know how to be wise and save what water we can to use on the plants. The gardener who talked about landscape listed many, many beautiful plants that require little water, flourish in this climate and offer much more beauty than rocks. I can't wait to get started - another week or two, and we can start planting. Yes!

Lesson: No matter where we live, whatever our circumstances, with creative thinking and work, we can create little spots of beauty.

photos from Passionate Gardening, Lauren Springer

One Breath at a Time

We sat in the rows of seats at the Driver's License office, waiting for our number to come up. Our son studied his manual again, reviewing the numbers, the laws, the statistics, preparing for his written test to earn his driving permit. On the wall, a digital display asked trivia type questions, then scrolled through the words, "Welcome to the Colorado Department of Revenue. Have a nice day," followed by the answer to the previous question. "What was the first animated movie to receive an Academy Award?" (Beauty and the Beast, 1991). "What are the most used letters in the English alphabet?" (t,a,e,s - I think that's what they were). This question caught my attention: "How many breaths does a healthy adult take each day?" The answer, 23,000.

All day and all night, 23,000 breaths, in and out, rise and fall, fill and empty, the rhythm as waves of air pulse in and through and out of our bodies. It made me grateful I don't have to think about each breath. Another son, with a nasty cold, breathes, resting on his bed, and I can hear each raspy, labored, congested breath. Exhausting, the effort he takes with each breath. Gladly, that is not normal, and he will soon be breathing again without thinking about each difficult breath.

But sometimes I do have to remind myself to breathe. That means a deep, slow inhale and a slow, relaxed exhale. It means taking the time to think about the breath, the life-giving calm of oxygen filling my lungs ,the energy distributed through my blood and body, and released, out.

He did pass his test. We have been out driving three times so far and he has done well. There will be plenty of opportunities over the next year for both of us to remember to breathe. Me, especially, as I sit in the passenger seat and attempt to direct and guide with calm patience. His older siblings have all successfully learned to drive and earned their licenses, I know he will, too. I want to remember to be grateful for this time with him, to talk and laugh and learn together. Not to be the storm cloud sitting in the passenger seat.

I want to take this opportunity to breathe, to not take for granted the incredible life we have both been given.  To know that no breath is trivial. The calm, quiet energy of each breath is a powerful life-full force, and until each of us takes our last breath, there is opportunity for hope and love and life, one breath at a time.

Captain Ty

Captain Ty is a short short condensed from a short story I wrote about the Cora, a clipper ship owned by my great great grandparents. I shortened the word count for a short story contest, which, I did not win, but still had fun with the challenge of editing and re-writing.

                Maine summers were hot and sticky. Miserable and tired of playing alone, Tyler complained to his mother that everyone, except him, was at camp.

              “You should go visit Grandma,” said his mom.

                “Mom, I hate going there. Her house smells. It’s boring.”

                Tyler ran out the door and hiked through the woods toward the ocean. When he reached the rocky coastline, the relief of cool air soared over the bluff.  He made his way north among the rocks, watching the seagulls and inhaling the salt spray from the pounding waves. Coming to a quiet inlet, he climbed down the bluff to sea level. Foundered on rock and mud was an old sailing vessel. Tyler scrambled along the shoreline for a closer look.

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Your Light

"Send out your light and your truth;
let them lead me..."

Psalm 43:3

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