Friday, November 28, 2008


I came across this in my calender reading the other day.
I hope you benefit from it as much as I did

Their prayer came to his holy habitation in heaven.

2 Chronicles 30:27

"Prayer is the never-failing response of the Christian in any case, in every plight. When you cannot use your sword, you may take up the weapon of prayer.
Your powder may be damp, your bowstring may be relaxed, but the weapon of prayer need never be out of order. Satan laughs at the javelin, but he trembles at prayer. Swords and spears need to be sharpened, but prayer never rusts; and when we think it most blunt, it cuts the best. Prayer is an open door that no one can shut.
Devils may surround you on all sides, but the way upward is always open, and as long as that road is unobstructed, you will not fall into the enemy's hand. We can never be taken by siege or invasion as long as heavenly helps can come down to us and relieve us in the time of our necessities.
Prayer is never out of season: In summer and in winter its merchandise is precious. Prayer gains audience with heaven in the dead of night, in the middle of business, in the heat of noonday, in the shades of evening. In every condition, whether poverty or sickness or obscurity or slander or doubt, your covenant God will welcome your prayer and answer it from His holy place. And prayer is never futile.
True prayer is always true power.
You may not always get what you ask, but you shall always have your real needs supplied. When God does not answer His children according to the letter, He does so according to the spirit. If you ask for cornmeal, will you be angry because He gives you fine flour? If you seek physical health, should you complain if instead He makes your sickness result in your spiritual health? Is it not better to have the cross sanctified than removed?"

Call Me Stuffed

"It is wise, as well as necessary, to beseech God continually to strengthen what He has worked in us. Failure to do so finds many Christians blaming themselves for those trials and afflictions of spirit that arise from unbelief. "

This year we were small and quiet. Just Ben, Bev, Mom and the Brocks. Entirely tasty nevertheless.
I started Thursday morning with making two batches of Juliana's Cranberry Marmalade Relish except I substituted Raspberry Preserves in one, for variety.
Equal parts berries/sugar (12oz), one cup chopped walnuts, one cup jam.
Bake berries and sugar in flat covered baking dish for one hour, stirring once.
Add nuts and jam. Chill. Wonderful.
I'll take the remains to the Special Meetings scheduled for Saturday (hence the two batches)
After a day of minimal banking and shopping; (K-mart was open & I love to scour their clearance shelves) I set to making Ina Garten's Sweet Potato with Candied Apples for my contribution to the afternoon meal.
For those of you who don't know the difference, sweet potatoes are yellow to begin with, and stay hardish when cooked, like reds or yukon golds. Yams are reddish to begin with, and cook soft like russets. Ina's recipe calls for sweets.
After baking the 6 sweets, scoop out into large bowl. (will be lumpy)
1/2 c. OJ
1/4 c melted butter
1/2 c cream
1/4 c brn sgr
1 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp cinamn
2 tsp salt.
mix and put in large baking dish.
3 tbs butter
3 tbs brn sgr
3 McIntosh apples, peeled and sliced
Saute 10-12 minutes
Spread (or arrange artfully) on top of potatoes and bake 30 minutes @ 350

My boss gave me Friday off. What a gal. I have the dubious job of providing a turkey for tomorrow. I always brine them the night before. I know it's a molecular process, I sorta know how it works, I just know it's the best. I prepared the brine this morning and it's cooling so I can plunge the bird into it by noon. I'll need to go to the meeting room by 6:00am to put it in the oven there... better than trying to wrestle a hot 22lb bird into the car afterwards.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Luciano (Luchiaaaahno)

I am sitting here in the computer area with my laptop and my coffee.
I am being serenaded by my new bird.
I have yet to tell you about my new bird.
He is a tiny yellow bird, a canary.
I've had lots and lots of birds.
I like birds.
I've had cockatiels.
I've had parakeets.
Those kind of birds are pets.
You can teach them to talk and do tricks.
They greet you, scold you, holler at you, call to you,
and even (sometimes) thank you, when you feed them.
One had a habit of asking me if I wanted a cuppa-coffee.
Now who would teach a bird to do that?
My favorite kind has always been canaries.
They are more of an ornament than a pet.
Like a music box or a flower arrangement.
Perfect yellow gold. (I like yellow)
Beautiful, delicate, and sweet.
He is just learning how to sing. He's a baby after all.
He chirrups and he cheeps.
I used to be able to count the beats; three, sometimes five.
Meaning the length of his song.
Now he has a trill of about ten notes. All of the same notes, yet.
When he gets older he will change notes around, up the scale and down.
He's happy.
He makes me happy.
Except after breakfast.
See, canaries are very messy eaters.
They must find the extra special single seed that is at the bottom of the food dish.
Only that particular seed will do.
It is under all of the other identical seeds, but it is the one he wants.
He will dig, and toss about all of the other seeds that are in the way.
All over the floor.
Parakeets, on the other hand, are dangerously tidy.
They will place the empty husk back in the food dish.
You have to keep track.
The dish will never look empty.
I like to hang Luciano outside on the patio.
Mom says he and the local wild birds are really quite friendly.
Of course!
Wouldn't you be glad for all of the discarded seeds everywhere?

Saturday, November 15, 2008

new microwave(s)

I suppose I should give the big-box store some slack.
See, I wanted to get Mom a new over-the-range model.
The old one is such a counter hogging, noisy, ugly dinosaur, no offence.
At the time, it was most likely state of the art, I'm sure.
The problem was, my sister (& her hubby) bought Mom the one we have,
a gift.
In 1986.
Back then Mom had this habit.
She would go and assist the new mommy.
Every time. Fly away to Canada
New daddy was thankful. Thankful and so generous.
This old microwave was going strong.
Going and going and going strong.
phooey. No justification there.
Big Sis is having a garage sale.
I have an idea.
Let's be oh-so-earth friendly and maybe sell the old one?
Big Box is having an interest/free/payment free deal.
I can make little payments for a year.
I drag Mom to pick one out from the display.
She takes one look at the $$$ and closes her eyes.
"You pick" she says.
We settle on a White Whirlpool, on sale.
We have a white range, a white fridge, a white dishwasher.
White's good.
Not a KitchenAid, mind you, though I did glance at that one in passing.
Delivered and installed, for a fee, on Monday.
"How does it look?"
"So very nice. It's up and running. I made popcorn and reheated my coffee. The installer was a AAA hockey player. He'd played in Vancouver at a training camp. Maybe the kids saw him. I liked him alot, he was so nice. Oh, BTW, we got a stainless steel one instead of white."
"It's fine. It works. Don't be upset"
too late.
When I got home I saw the 'fine' microwave.
Stainless Steel Frigidaire.
lovely. I just love battling with big-box.
Deep breathing exercises, all the way up the employee ladder.
Lots of raised eyebrows, bewildered faces, apologies.
Hockey dude is back, nice as ever.
All's well.