A Limberlost Tea

A dear friend of mine just finished reading The Girl of The Limberlost by Gene Stratton Porter. Limberlost, though published in 1909, is timeless.  Porter's obvious love of nature and her wisdom concerning the human heart make it one of my all-time favorite reads.

Yesterday I surprised my friend with a Limberlost Tea. We spent a "kindred spirit" afternoon together rehashing favorite parts.  I set up a Limberlost table scene. The old violin was my grandfather's, handling it always makes me feel grateful to have had such a grandfather. 

If you are familiar with The Girl of the Limberlost, the objects will make sense. If you haven't read Girl of the Limberlost, I hope this tempts you to do just that.

I'll leave with you a few notable quotes from the book.

"To me, it seems the only pleasure in this world worth having is the joy we derive from living for those we love, and those we can help."

"Young people," she said solemnly, "if your studying science and the elements has ever led you to feel that things just happen, kind of evolve by chance, as it were, this sight will be good for you. Maybe earth and air accumulate, but it takes the wisdom of the Almighty God to devise the wing of a moth. If there ever was a miracle, this whole process is one."

“And remember this: What you are lies with you. If you are lazy, and accept your lot, you may live in it. If you are willing to work, you can write your name anywhere you choose, among the only ones who live beyond the grave in this world, the people who write books that help, make exquisite music, carve statues, paint pictures, and work for others.”

"To be patient, to be unselfish, to do unto others as I would have them do to me." "And the oaks?" "They say 'be true,' 'live a clean life,' 'send your soul up here and the winds of the world will teach it what honour achieves.’"

September 22, 1991

On this day Sept. 22., (1991) Billy Graham preached to an estimated crowd of 200,000 people in Central Park. His largest event in North America. 

 My then boyfriend, now husband took this picture of me there on the The Great Lawn. The Spiderman duffle bag was what he toted his camera equipment around in. Cameras couldn’t fit in your pocket in 1991! 

Were you there?

My Polish Easter

I enjoy keeping food traditions for holidays. My heritage is a mix of Polish, Hungarian and Puerto Rican. Easter always means Polish for me. Having lived with my Polish grandma for a good part of my life I can't imagine the Easter meal any other way. There is something about the experience of food that brings back memories very deeply. I love thinking that the traditions I create now will live through my children and their future children. 

My New Years Eve meal is always Latino. It can't get more festive for ringing in the new year than that! I make some of my own concoctions as well as my husband's favorites that he grew up with. He is 100% NY Puerto Rican, his family is steeped in food tradition. His mom has taught me how to make the family favorites. Our Thanksgiving is all American, we like to eat what we suspect the Pilgrims might have. For Christmas it's Victorian England for us, we have no familial ties there. Both my husband and I are literature fiends, we wish to experience a Dicken's fantasy Christmas. Let's get back to Easter!...

I used buttery babka dough this year to make buns for Good Friday.

Of course, the lamb cake made its appearance. You can see one of my "dressed" lambs here.

Days before Easter my daughter was busy planning out her egg dying designs as I was busy planning my meal. I will probably save this paper forever.

The Friday Piles

 By the end of the week there are many corners in my home that have accumulated piles. When Friday comes all piles get sorted and put away. I must start my weekend with a clean slate. Before  this week's tidying I went around the house snapping pictures. Each assemblage of things  has it's own personality of the people who left them. I am going to keep photographing them for myself, these little time capsules of my family.

 The end of the kitchen counter continually collects bits from each day. A necklace swept out from under the table, those buttons we couldn't part with taken off that sweater nobody wanted. Things temporarily parked on their way into or out of someone's bag.

My older daughter's corner of the kitchen table usually looks something like this. Each evening before dinner is served she moves whatever it is she is working on to the floor, the windowsill, the stairs. Come Friday though, it all goes back to whence it came. 

I have piles too. Laundry piles, book piles, sewing piles, and of course piles of dishes. Not as interesting as the children's piles. I know their piles are going to change drastically in the next few years so I savor these future memories today.