Egg~Related Confession (Part 1)

In the spirit of Easter, and new beginnings, I feel that a confession is in order. 

I must admit, that I have a thing for deviled egg platters.

What is a deviled egg platter? 

Well... it's a platter with little egg sized indentations especially for serving deviled eggs.

 

I enter into evidence... THIS lovely amber carnival glass platter...

This was the catalyst for my mini obsession.

When I was 4 or 5 years old, my "Nanny" (Colorado Dad's Mom) lived in Red Oak, Texas and had one of those old fashioned china cabinets with glass doors on the front.  She had all sorts of "pretties"... odds and ends arranged inside... china plates... a shaving cup that some ancestor had used... assorted teacups... a ceramic bell from a road trip with "New Mexico" written on it. 

Your grandmother probably had a similar cabinet...
I now have one myself (minus the bell from Stuckey's).

 

The one object that always caught my eye, was this iridescent egg platter. 
It was tucked away on the bottom shelf (right at my eye level).  I loved the way the surface reflected rainbows (I mean what little girl wouldn't love that?).  Nanny would take it out of the cabinet and let me inspect it carefully.  "You can have it someday", she promised. 
And today... it is mine!

 

Well, I discovered recently that one platter just doesn't hold enough eggs for a big gathering... We have a big clan, and eggs are usually the first item to disappear (even before prayer I might add... egg thieves abound in our family). 

 

So I started a "hunt" for just ONE more egg platter.  So I mentioned it to my Mom-in-Law, who just happened to have a clear glass one that she never used! And I mentioned it to my dear friend Susie, who ran across one at an antique store.  (If 2 are good, then 3 are better!) Then Houston Mom found one on e-Bay that was totally different than the other three (it was ornate metal).  Well, of course I had to have it!  So suddenly my egg platters have multiplied (like Easter wabbits). 

This could seriously become a problem... I've seen so MANY deviled egg dishes. 

My tiny farmhouse will not hold a larger collection, but I am so pleased with my quartet. 

They were each found by ones I love... and they are all special and unique. 

 

I really am done though... really...

I have met the "Official Egg Platter Quota for a Small Farmhouse".

Don't buy me any egg platters (unless of course, you find one that's REALLY cool or UNUSUAL... and just can stop yourself...I mean I'd forgive you if push came to shove).

 

 

Dadda...

He drove a red pick-up truck.
His words dripped Texas drawl thick as summer honey.
Laughter came easily and often, the echo of which remains in husband's joy.
His hands... rough, stained, black soil planted into the crevices of his palm.
Solid as a mountain path. 
He was proud (in the sweetest of ways).
God bestowed upon his shoulders many names...
farmer
husband
brother
son
Dadda
father
Grandpa
G
He believed that the moon could hold water... that cardinals signaled things to come.
He was flawed... and wounded... and lovely...
A fine masterpiece, with rips and coarse repairs around the gilded edges.
Heritage and stories clothed him with their strong fibers...
His legacy courses through the veins of husband...
A crimson arrow through the tomorrows of my children.
The earth he loved was turned by his hand even after his final breath.
His sanctuary was his tractor... dusty glass instead of stained...
Simple.
Strong.
True.
He is loved.
He is missed.
We are better because we knew... and were known by him.
Every day... but especially today... we remember.

Mighty Fine.

Catching Up...

My meandering path has been strewn with distractions since the holidays.

My time whittled away with... life.

Let's catch up.  

We had an adoption in the family. An Australian Shepherd Christmas Eve Puppy.
Don't be deceived by this innocent looking picture... she is trouble and a half...
but we wouldn't trade our Shelby girl.

Cows have been fed, calves have been born, fences have been mended.

Husband and I ran away to Seattle... just for a week, and had a blast!

Traditions have been carried forward alongside cattle auction veterans... and a few newbies who were fascinated (as most city folk, including myself the first time) with the selling of the vials of semen.  Yes.  That's how they do it in the cow world. They're not shy about it either.

I was privileged to capture a small role in an epic love story.

(I got to make the cake and could not have accomplished the feat

 ~ a week before Christmas in Houston ~

without the help of farmer husband).

Thanks hon for being willing... being my chauffeur... being on "cake" assembly duty ...

and even having fun in the process!

Here are the lovely bride and handsome groom, Lindsey and Juan. 

It was a wedding filled to the brim with faith, hope and (of course) love.

Mom and I stealing a moment... despite Houston Dad giving us all a scare by passing out TWICE after the I Do's.  We were left with stories to tell (as usual).

Seasons are changing in our lives... and in the lives of those we love. 

Our farm matriarch is diminishing... and it is normal and expected, but grieves us all nonetheless.  Most especially her... after spending a life of filling her cup...

now her palms must open to let things go. 

I so hope that she finds pools of solace... and joy in the midst of this hard change. 

I hope it for husband as well... and for his sis and brother. 

 Boys are busy growing up... and stretching us all... and learning... and occasionally calling a truce.

Soil has been turned... fragrant and black.

Corn and maize seeds have been tucked in, all snug in their rows...

and are, this moment awakening from their dreams.

Nudged by the alarm clock of moisture and warmth... and Texas black land prairie.

We find ourselves on the precipice of Spring.

I've been pining for flip flop days... and alas... they are now upon us!

Enjoy the View

I'm enjoying my view this Thanksgiving Eve...

Do me a favor...

Take a moment to savor yours!

Cousins' Party

My Mom-In-Law has a spectacular tradition.  Each year, her cousins get together for a Cousins' Party! Brilliant!

I wish I had thought of it... but since I didn't, I unabashedly stole her tradition and made it my own as part of my 40th-Year-Progressive-Birthday-Celebration.

 

Blessed am I to have 3 cousins on my mother's side of the family. When you throw my 2 sisters into the mix, that makes a half-dozen cousins (all girls)!

 

 

Do you know what a Progressive Dinner is? Well that has kind of been the general idea for the big 4-zero birthday. I decided before the year even started that I didn't JUST want to have a big shin-dig (although I kind of did that too... How often do you meet someone who matters, who is also only ONE day older than you? I mean we sort of HAD to have a shin-dig... right??!) Sorry for the digression. 

 

 Anyone who has thrown a big wedding/party/event knows that you don't ever get to really visit with all your guests very much. So I thought it would be fun to have a series of smaller, more intimate celebrations. So that's what I have done. Yes... I realize I have sort of beat my birthday into the ground this year... but 40 is a big deal people!

(I'm pretty sure husband is OVER it). 

So when my first-1st cousin asked if she could throw me a party... she got rooked into two parties (sorry hon).  One of which we celebrated last weekend... a Cousins Sleepover!

 

So the sisters came up from Houston and we did all the things you're supposed to do at a slumber party! 

 

Played Girl Talk!

 

 Ate Pizza (just like back in the day)!

  

Watched a chick-flick until the wee morning hours with a bowl of caramel popcorn on our laps!  Made creepy monster cocktails!

 

Modeled our cute mis-matched socks...

 

We had conversations with furniture and talked about boys we like!

 

We laughed!  And laughed some more!

 

We woke up to a Cousins elegant tea party complete with quiche... fresh fruit... tomatoes and basil... hot tea and coffee.  DIVINE!

 

The best part about spending time with people who share your blood is that you just "know" things about each other... you don't have to do a lot of explaining. You totally "get" each other's stories, especially about your crazy shared relatives - (if you happen to be a crazy relative... were your ears burning?)  You don't have to apologize for being loud... and dramatic... and over the top. You can start a story mid-stream because your hearers know the beginning.  You know each other's roots... the healthy ones, as well as the ones that need more water and fertilizer... and you tend to one another.

 

There's something comfortable and cozy about filling up a room with all those common traits... and then swimming in the words and nuances and quirks.

 

So thank you to Bo and Lo (and Aunt Beck) for your hospitality and for putting into motion what I hope will be an annual event.  We're already discussing next year's party in Houston and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my other sweet pumpkinhead cousin Bree can make it in 2013. Thank you sisters for making the trek North! 

 

Although we are cut from the same cloth... we are varied and diverse.   We are corduroy and satin... damask and denim.. silk and lace and flannel.  I'm so thankful for the stitching of faith and family that holds us together...

 

Cousins are an often unmentioned, unappreciated, forgotten branch of the family tree... but I am here to say... COUSINS ROCK!

 

Secret Ingredients... for the first day at a new school.

I know this looks like an ordinary lunch…

Sandwich… Chips…the obligatory piece of fruit. 

But slip on your dimensional bifocals for a moment...

 

You'll see clearly the corner of a prayer tucked into that seemingly empty space next to the chips... that his quirky personality will shine. 
 

There’s a whisper wrapped around the Dr. Pepper can…
for peace to fall upon his heart today as he travels unfamiliar halls. 
 

Underneath the innocent apple lies a breath...
held long to hold back tears for this transition dreaded. 
 

Hidden under the foil are fragments of awe and amazement…
that my first born has reached this set of stairs... 8th grade and 13 years.
 

Folded in between the slices of turkey and triangles of Swiss is a mother’s earnest plea... that son will find his place in this bright new space. 
 

Into every crevice remaining... liquid love… anticipation… and hope… have been poured. 

 

The lid is closed tightly, sealing gratitude for 

new acquaintances that will ripen into old friendships...

for quieted fears...

for a day...

and a year, much like this lunch, 

 layered with promise...

and secret ingredients... 

 

 

 

 

A Cookbook Worth the Wait

About 5 years ago, Grandmom and Grandad began teasing the family with a "cookbook under construction".  They announced at Christmas that they were compiling many of the family recipes into a cookbook for the girls of the family... We got a glimpse of the book, but then it went back into the bag... "We're not finished yet!", they'd say with a giggle and a wink.  

Each year, we got a peek at the treasure in various stages of completion. 

Three years ago in June, Grandad went home to be with the Lord, his bed surrounded by melody and souls he loved. 

This past Christmas (insert drum roll here)...

Grandmom presented... the... finished... cookbook!

"It was a hard journey", she told us... to finish the book without Grandad at her elbow (which is where he sat for the majority of this fine project)... but she DID it!

It is so much more than a cookbook... it is really the story of a lifetime... told over steaming plates of "Ruby's Chicken with Yellow Rice" and "Beef Stroganoff My Way"... with a sweet little taste of "Chantilly Cream" and "Fluffy Tapioca Puddin".

Not only is the book laden with recipes, but it is also dripping with stories... little explanations of why this recipe was important... or the aunt who passed it along in the first place... photographs... comic strips... quotes... and Creole Proverbs from Belize.

(There's a world famous story in here about Tapioca pudding that's worth repeating... but I'll save that for another day.)

I considered pulling a "Julie and Julia" type maneuver and cooking every recipe in the book... until I got to Frog Legs.  I haven't decided if I can make it through that one... Where would one go to buy frog legs anyway... cuz I'm NOT going to the creek!

Sometimes the best place to start... is the beginning.

Page one is... Stuffed Celery 2 ways. 

One sweet (Grandmom's favorite)... and one savory (her 2nd favorite). 

"Mother always had these celery sticks on the table at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and it was my job to 'string the celery', and under her supervision, I'd mix the stuffing.  I've made these many times for our Christmas dinner too. I've enjoyed other recipes for these, but this is my favorite ~ and next favorite"

Now... maybe I'm just behind on Celery World History... but I had no idea that you could take those pesky strings out of those ribs! Alas... You just  cut the ends of the celery and pinch those strings in between your fingernails/tweezers... and pull.  Little curly ribbons of annoyance pull away from the crispy celery heart and pile up nicely in a tangled pile.

Here are the finished products... One filled with a bleu cheese concoction... and the other with a cherry cream cheese blend.  I loved them served side by side... split celery personalities.

Hooray for stringless celery stuffed with goodness! 

Thank you Grandmom and Grandad for pouring your time and memories into pages that will nourish our bodies and souls.. for years to come. 

This cookbook definitely goes on the official "Things I'd Save if My House Caught on Fire" list.

Sweet Stuffed Celery Sticks

10 crisp, tender celery ribs

1 jar maraschino cherries

1 pkg cream cheese

1/2 cup pecans (optional)

Clean celery and trim away the "strings". Dry well with paper towels and cut into 4 inch lengths.  Take out several cherries and chop into small pieces.  In a small bowl combine the softened cream cheese and the chopped cherries.  Add 2 or 3 Tbsp of the cherry juice to thin the cream cheese ~ but don't get the mixture too thin.  Blend until smooth.  If desired crush pecans and add to the cream cheese.  Mix well and fill each celery piece with mixture.  Garnish with a small piece of cherry on top. Chill before serving.

Savory Stuffed Celery Sticks

10 crisp, tencer celery ribs

1/2 cup bleu cheese, crumbled

1 pkg cream cheese

3 Tbsp sour cream

1/2 cup pecans or walnuts, chopped (optional)

Clean celery and trim away the "strings". Dry well with paper towels and cut into 4 inch lengths.  In a small bowl combine the sour cream, softened cream cheese, and bleu cheese. Stir until blended.  Finely chop the nuts and fold in (reserve some for garnish).  Fill the celery cavity with mixture.  Chill before serving.

Note 1: I put my mixtures in a ziploc bag, snipped a hole in the corner and "piped" the mixture into the celery cavity.  Worked like a charm! 

Note 2: Look at the picture of the celery stick recipe... Do you see those hand written words "Date Tried ________ Comment ________"  That's Grandad's lefty handwriting.  It's an important part of the masterpiece for me.

Note 3:  If you happen to be a buffalo wing restaurant entrepeneur... put this on your menu tomorrow! They'll make you famous.