Faith, Folklore, and Friends

On Wednesday, we had the perfect snow.  It started here at three in the afternoon, much later than the promised noon, and by four, the world was white.  We could hear children and adults all over the neighborhood having fun in the snow.  Forest Hills Elementary, which we can see from our house, became a ski resort of people sliding down the hills in front of the school.  Snow is so rare here it causes great excitement when it finally shows up. I always think about the lovely Robert Frost poem, Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening, anytime we have snow. We had to memorize this in high school, and my best friend and I thought the part about the little horse was hilarious.  It has stayed with me almost fifty years, so we must have learned it well.  Just in case you have forgotten it: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening BY  ROBERT FROST Whose woods these are I think I know.    His house is in the village though;...

                         Wikipedia Image Today is the birthday of the John Steinbeck (02/27/1902-12/20/1966), the author of 27 books.  His works include Of Mice and Men, East of Eden, The Pearl , and The Red Pony . He won the Nobel prize for literature in 1962.  I have read several of his books, but my favorite is  The Grapes of Wrath , Steinbeck's story of dust-bowl Oklahoma tenant farmers migrating to California.   The Grapes of Wrath  won the Pulitzer Prize in 1940, and sold millions of copies during Steinbeck's lifetime.  Of course, I have seen the movie starring a very young Henry Fonda. My first-born son is a voracious reader, just like his mama.  This year, we are planning to read as many Pulitzer Prize winning novels that we can.  I've read three already: To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee, The Color Purple by Alice Walker, and The Optimist's Daughter by Eud...

Snow in the South is wonderful. It has a kind of magic and mystery that it has nowhere else.  And the reason for this is   that it comes to people in the South not as the grim, unyielding tenant of Winter's keep,  but as a strange and wild visitor from the secret North. - THOMAS WOLFE

DREAMS by Langston Hughes Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.

Our class did not meet last week.  We are all smart ladies, and when there is freezing rain, snow, and sleet falling and the wind is bitter, we go home after work and stay there, usually with some warm jammies on.  Being stuck inside last week turned out to be very productive for me.  I finished a crib quilt and a full size quilt top that I had been working on for a while. Last night, everyone came, and we sewed and pressed and trimmed happily for two hours.  We also talked about the next winter storm on the radar.  We are winter weary and will be thankful when spring gets here.  Spring always comes, but it is easy to forget that after last week's roller-coaster weather. Remember this scrap windmill quilt top I showed you a few weeks ago?  I finished another one this week using the same blocks and the same pattern.  I changed the fabric to a solid red.  Can you see a big difference?  In the meantime, our stacks of blocks...

It was the seventies. We lived near Savannah, Tennessee, a small town full of factories. They made uniforms, women's clothing, and shoes. All of the factories are long gone now, moved with NAFTA to places far removed from that sleepy little river town. But in the seventies, the factories hummed with women (and a few men) who didn't need a career, but money to buy groceries. Scraps of fabric left after cutting out the garments were thrown away, or given to employees if they wanted them. Friends and relatives collected them, sometimes filling the trunks of their cars when they finished the day, bone-weary but glad they had made another day, another punch of the time clock that meant more money on Friday. Some didn't sew at all, but having been raised by depression-era parents who threw nothing away, they collected the scraps to share. Sometimes, they gave them to me! It was thought that I wouldn't ever amount to much, because I 'kept my nose in a book' m...

I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord In the land of  the living. Wait for the Lord ; Be  strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord .  ~Psalm 27:13-14 

Not my image; unknown source When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the  souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. They cried  out with a loud voice, “O Sovereign Lord, holy  and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” Then  they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brothers should be complete, who were to be  killed as they themselves had been. ~Revelation 6:9-11 And I saw thrones, and they sat upon them, and judgment was given unto them: and I saw the souls  of them that were  beheaded  for the witness of  Jesus, and for the word of God, and which had not  worshipped the beast, neither his image, neither had  received his mark upon their foreheads, or in their  hands; and they lived and reigned with Christ a...

~Florence Main Street photo                           I do not like the cold North breeze or temps low enough to freeze the pipes, the plants, and the parts of motor cars that make them start. I do not like the freezing rain that makes the roads a major pain to try to get to work and school. I do not like it, and I’m no fool. I do not like the mushy snow. It doesn’t set my heart aglow. Instead, it just makes me mean as I pine for something green. I do not like the low, gray sky. Sometimes, it makes me want to cry when I think of all the blue skies gone and weeks of winter yet to come. I do like the summer, humid and hot; long lazy days and temps that do not fall below seventy, even at night! Hurry up, Summer! It’s nowhere in sight. ~ Wanda Stricklin Robertson

Chicken and dumplings are a staple in the South.  It is amazing that anything so good could be so easy to make. My mama was famous for her chicken and dumplings, and while mine might not be quite as good as the ones she made,  they are rather tasty.  I don't think we have ever had any left that had to be thrown out. Start out by putting some chicken and broth in a large sauce pan. Sift two cups of self-rising flour in a mixing bowl. Add about 1/3 cup of lard.  Yes, lard.  All my family and ancient kinfolks were raised on lard.  I don't use it much, but for good dumplings and pie crusts, you have to use lard.  You can use Crisco, but they won't be as good as mine.  You could use corn oil, but I wouldn't even bother.  Just buy some of those hard, yellow dumplings in a package at the store. Add the lard to the flour and mix with a pastry blender.  When it is thoroughly mixed, add cold water a little at a time until ...

I don't usually buy food that has already been prepared; the one exception is rotisserie chicken.  At Sam's Club, this approximately three-pound chicken is $4.89.  They are cooked there, not in some foreign place that I can't pronounce, and they are always fresh and good. At most places, a good hamburger is more than $5, with extra costs for sides and drinks.   Here is how I stretched one rotisserie chicken: On the first day, Hub and I had the legs and thighs with salad and cantaloupe. On the second day, we had sliced breast sandwiches with jalapeno cheese and pickles. On the third day, we chopped up the remaining breast meat and made chicken fajitas. At that was left was the carcass, At one time, I threw them out at this point, but not anymore.  I use it to make broth.  Here is how I do it. Put the chicken in a large sauce pan,  and cover it with three or four pints of water.  If I'm using raw chicken, I would add salt and pepper....

These photos were made late Monday, 2/16.  It is way too cold to go outside to make more this morning.  Thankfully, we did not lose our electricity or heat. Walking to class yesterday in the icy rain, I was thinking that it might be time to retire. . .