NOOOOOOOOOOO!

Tomorrow is the first day of our ELEVENTH year of homeschooling.  We ALWAYS start off the year with a trip to Krispy Kreme doughnuts… but not this year.  I just found out that the one near our house closed down.  In fact all of the Arizona KK’s closed except for the one in Mesa.  That a 56 minute drive (according to mapquest) for 1st Day of School Doughnuts.  But it IS a tradition.  Hmmmm.  Maybe it’s time for a new tradition.

And yes, it’s because tomorrow is the first day of school that I have been a lacking blogger.  Sorry, folks.  The other day I was sitting in my green birthday chair in my room with my feet up on the stool…. and I realized that I need to make time every day for the things I truly enjoy….. right after the things that I truly need to do (specifically, Bible reading, prayer, exercise and eating right.)  This got my mind a-wandering to those things I truly love…. water-color painting… writing… scrapbooking…. gardening….. reading.  Starting tomorrow (since we are starting other important things tomorrow), I plan to add 30 minutes for ME!  We’ll see how this goes.

Did anyone else notice the creepy little girl in the Krispy Kreme advertisement?  I don’t know if this is good advertising on their part.  She looks like she’s eaten 27 KK sugar bombs already and is tempted to bite the nicely manicured hand in the photo.  One of those things in life that I find strange.

Happy New School Year to all those moms and kids out there.  Do your best… teaching and learning!  This is the most important job on earth!

Tears & Laughter

My life seems to be on the replay cycle right now.  I was reading back to last year’s posts at this time…. I certainly don’t need to write about my events of Thanksgiving week this year… they are EXACTLY the same as last year:  Larisa’s play, Stove Top Stuffing, and three or four hockey games for Austin.  Please see 2008 posts if you’re wanting photo proof of what will transpire in my life this week.

I also listened to Third Day’s song Merry Christmas about the orphan child who is not home for Christmas… and I cried…. again.  (For a good cry go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcPBA9-wyZE&feature=related ) I just don’t understand why we have to wait so long.  Or why Zaza has to wait so long for us to come and get her.  Distinctly I remember folding the damp dish towel after drying the Thanksgiving dishes and telling my mom and sister-in-law, Julie, that we were going to adopt.  That was 200SIX!  Three long years later, I never thought Zaza’s buttery yellow room and her curvy purple bed would still be vacant.  I realize that God’s timing is perfect and mine is not.  But it doesn’t bring me joy.

So, when the adoptive parent blues hit hard, I go to Bookman’s, my favorite used book store, and find adoption stories where moms and dads actually get to take home their child in the end of the book.  It makes me believe again.  There are happy endings.  Other mothers waited years and years and eventually hugged and kissed the child of their heart.  So last week I found and read this book:

I had half the book read before bedtime and finished the next morning.  I bonded with the author instantly as I read her prose.  She writes like I do… in incomplete sentences that drive English teachers CRAZY!  She used picture words to describe each and every one of the five senses from bitter tea to soft skin, hazy lighting and a hairy hand.  Her word choice inspired me to run to the computer and write, write, write.  She also had several funny, real-life experiences that Rick and I have actually had… like weighing our heads on the bathroom scale.  Wierd, I know.  But it made me feel less wierd, knowing someone else had done it too.  And her adoption story is very real.  I wanted to kick in some Russian teeth because of how she was treated.  I also longed to hold my little girl when she finally got to hold her little boy.  Needless to say, it was a good read with the happy ending I needed to push me through another month or two… or ten, God forbid.

Thanksgiving Traditions

Happy Thanksgiving Day to all you fine readers!  I pray you are thankful and full. 

I found these pictures from Thanksgiving 2006, but they are exactly what we are also partaking of today… in 2008.  In fact, as far back as I can remember… and that’s about 38 or 39 years…. we’ve relished the first three: Stove Top Stuffing, Mom’s Pumpkin Pie and Turkey.  The homemade buns were added to the spread circa 1993.

Now I’ve had gourmet stuffing with wild rice and bits of apple, celery and wild mushrooms.   I’ve had cornbread stuffing with almonds and cinnamon.  But none illicit memories of “home” like, as we affectionately call mom’s stuffing, Stove Top Trailer Trash Stuffing.  It’s predictable.  It’s constant.  It’s yummy… and it sings “Welcome home” to me every Thanksgiving Day.

Mom’s homemade pumpkin pie is also the bomb.  We have tried deviations through the years with pumpkin cream cheese rolls and pumpkin cheesecake.  But are they on the menu the following year?  Nada.  It’s the old, familiar pie that returns and is welcomed with glee and with Cool Whip.

Nothing smells as good as a home where the turkey is roasting in the oven.  And when that little red dealie pops out, sweet mercy, IT’S TIME!  I’ve read suggestions and ideas and recipes to improve Thanksgiving Day turkeys, but like the pumpkin pie and Stove Top, we keep going back to the ol’ turkey in a pan.  My favorite sure-fire turkey cooking idea was the popcorn stuffing.  It’s the easiest recipe to tell when the bird is done because when the popcorn blows open the door of the oven … it’s ready. (Don’t try this at home.)

Here we have the newest addition to the Nikander Thanksgiving menu… Coral’s Buns… which have been renamed and are now known as Linda’s Buns.  I learned to make these from two dear friends in Spruce Grove, Alberta, Coral and Marilyn.  The buns are sweet and soft and melt in your mouth and sop up gravy like nobodies business.  I made them yesterday and my brother happened to stop by as they were in the oven and the aroma assaulted him at the door.  About five minutes after he went home, the phone rang.  He said, “Julie made her homemade soup and we were wondering if you wanted to come for dinner and bring your buns.”  How can you refuse an offer like that?

Keep the family Thanksgiving traditions strong in your home and may God bless us each and every one.

?#1 from My Sister’s Jar – Fav Holiday

Tell about a favorite holiday tradition you had growing up.

Who doesn’t love Christmas? Well, you know, other than Orthodox Jewish people.  There are so many little gems wrapped up in my mind involving traditions, tastes, sights, smells, feelings and songs.

Spritz.  Mom would make those darling, dainty pressed-cookies each year that melted in your mouth as sugar-buttery goodness.  Yum!

Carolling.  Not that we participated much, but I loved the few successful times we did.  One was in Fort Vermilion, Alberta when Dad, Mom and Christy came up for a -40 degree Christmas.  We sang four part harmony to the Hepburns on a crystal clear, freezing night under the moonlight.  It was delightful.

Candlelight Church Services.  I’ve only been to 3 or 4, but there is something holy about candle light in Jesus’ house on his birthday.  Of course, not a single candle-lit service passed without me visualizing Michael Jackson’s hair bursting into flames on that Coke commercial.

Nanaimo Bars.  Many Canadian mothers made ’em.  Only mine cut the custard layer and hand-spread the chocolate on each one.  You know, those chocolated-then-cut bars always tasted a little cheap to me.

Christmas Lights.  Sparkling lights on houses and in yards are so beautiful ~ especially in snow. I think that is the lone happy memory I have about living in Northern Canada in the wintertime – OK, that’s two, counting the four part carolling aforementioned.  One year when we lived in Spruce Grove, we drove into Edmonton with all the Crosby’s in our party van.  We went to Candy Cane Lane and drove with the windows down and the sliding door open.  OK, freezing but fun.

Fire in the Fireplace.  Crackling.  Popping.  Hissing.  Spitting.  There’s something LIVE in a fire.  I also am secretly addicted to staying warm – so a toasty hearth draws me like a fly to fly paper.

The Empty Ornament Box.  It was 1992… or was it ’93? We were stuck in Fort Vermilion for Christmas so my family sent a box of gifts to us.  I don’t remember any other contents of that box – but a single small package addressed to Rick.  It was an empty box that was supposed to have a Hallmark ornament in it.  Mom never checked if it was actually in there when she bought it… and well… it wasn’t… mailed 2,000 miles to the frozen tundra…empty.  Still makes me smile.

Drift Wood Angel.  Dad’s cousin Jo painted an angel on a large piece of driftwood that hung near our entry all the days of my childhood.  When tole-painted angels on driftwood finally went out of style ~ I inherited it… in 2005.  I have proudly hung the slab in our entry ever since.  Long live driftwood angels!  Noel.