Because who uses stamps anymore...

Personal Library

"When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does."
--Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail

One of the great things about this last trip to LA is that Dale and I were able to take two 35-pound boxes of my things from my Mother's house to our home in Salt Lake.  It took us 2.6 years to do this because it is only now that we have a place big enough to store anything other than what is needed right now.  In these boxes were keepsakes from 13 years of girl scouting, a decade of journaling, my CD collection, my baby book, and my childhood library.

This isn't just any childhood library.  This is the childhood library of a kid whose first chapter book was Gulliver's Travels when she was 6. 

I should have felt the stirrings of the universe telling me something when I chose Ender's Game to keep me busy on the plane ride in. 

Ender's Game really is the most famous of the books I chose as a child.  Other's were called Silver, The Only Alien on the Planet, The entire Anne of Green Gables series, The Face on the Milk Carton (books 1, 2, and 3), anything by Jane Austin, SongMaster, Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and StarBridge (Books 1-7).  I kept them on a shelf at the head of my bed, and always seemed to be reading one of them or another, regardless of how I was 14 and still reading a book written for a 2nd grade reading level or if I was 9 and reading a book for 30 year olds.  The all time favorite was StarBridge, book 1.  I re-read it this week.  No exaggeration neccessary, I think I've read it at least two dozen times.  That's 24 times.  And that's a conservative estimate.  There's nothing special about this book.  Nothing more so than your other run of the mill 300 page science fiction novel written in the 1980s.  Nothing special other than the main character became my friend when I was eight and a half.

As I finished reading the last hundred pages late last night, I noticed lines I'd cut into the pages with my nail so I could remember what paragraph I'd left off at.  Certian strategically placed dog eared pages for good stopping points.  Even bite marks left by my teeth on certian pages from when I had carried it in my mouth while climbing a tree to get to my perfect reading nook.  It's crazy to see how small I was just by the size of that bite mark.  I had thought I was all grown up, just like my friend in StarBridge.  Crazy little imperfections made in THIS book that make all the difference when reading it.

So here's to the awesome blessing it can be to see the evidence of your childhood, and having yourself as a child show up again.  And here's to how much richer it will make my home in Salt Lake to have the soul of my childhood belongings in it.

Complex Household Appliances

When I was 16 my parents found themselves in need of a new refregerator.  I noticed that their selection was sufficiently not outdated for my teenage coolness needs, but didn't mark the event futher except to notice one thing.  On the day it came in I headed out to see my friends and noticed my parents cuddling, 3 feet out of the open refregerator door, gazing into it.  I told my friends about it when I went out and someone came up with the perfect statement to summarize our concerns "Oh, man, I hope I'm never 50."

Well, sad news but you don't have to wait until you're 50 to have a household appliance be the highlight of your week.  The week before Thanksgiving, Dale's parents drove these two beauties down from a Montana estate give away:

Just look at them.  Not only do we have an apartment that is big enough to house them, and also includes washer/dryer hook ups (Dale and I marvel at our beautiful apartment daily), but this is a significant step toward independence.  In my church I often hear our leaders chiding young couples saying statements like:

"Don't expect to have all that your parents have as soon as you get married.  It took a lifetime for them to build up the home that you have benefitted from.  Avoid unneccessary debt and be patient in accruing a household."

It seems like these laundry machines hold in them all that we are waiting to get but hope for.  At least they will for the next few months... This paragraph embodies what my parent's looked like 10 years ago with their new refregerator.

The excitement of the appliances is different from the excitement of getting our first new adult couch.  The couch is beautiful and comfortable and can be appreciated with the senses daily.  The washer/dryer will save me time and (hopefully) money.  That feels awesome!

I used them for the first time on Tuesday, and other than a mishap where the exit hose came out of the wall in the middle of a cycle and spewed several dozen gallons of dirty laundry water out onto the kitchen and dining room floors, it all worked out just fine. :)   It seems poetic that one more step toward an independed household should be marked with an incident foreshadowing the perils of home ownership.

Turkey Bowl

There is a kind of mystique surrounding a group of tight childhood friends.  A kid is very lucky if they can experience that, because not all kids do.  One of the best parts about going back to Northridge for Thanksgiving is a tradition that my highschool friends have been doing for 8 years now.  I had a great group of friends in high school.  Being LDS was tricky when it came to a teenage social life, as I'm sure every LDS kid has experienced.  I was VERY fortunate to have gotten involved with a bunch of REALLY great kids who are now really great adults.  Some of these people were in school with me from first grade.  When we all dispursed to different colleges, Chris Malotte (the guy on the far right) started a Thursday after Thanksgiving football game in 2003 and it has survived all this while.  It is SO fun to see what people are up to and becoming.  In this picture, 4 of us are in committed romantic relationships, some have EXTREMELY successful careers, and all others are still working on it.  It's crazy to see what your 17 year old friends would become when they're 26.  It's amazing how 2 hours with people you haven't seen regularly in half a decade can make you feel so much love.

feast

When I was a kid, I don't think I ever would have identified Thanksgiving as my favorite holiday, but as an adult, I definately appreciate a day/week of preparation dedicated to making the sensual experience of eating into an art.  I'd like to share with you some iconic images of my childhood that are the same every year for thanksgiving.

Every year as a child, the week before thanksgiving would be welcomed in by the baked goods.  About 8 dozen rolls are stored on cookie sheets in plastic bags to keep them fresh, and pies of all types and varieties are stored in the utility room off the kitchen where they are least likely to be bothered by little kid's fingers.  Something I learned this year about my mother's roll recipie is that she butters the tops before they go into the oven AND after they come out.  It keeps them soft for the next day, and flavorful even without butter or jam during the meal itself.  This year Nanette and I spent all of Wednesday baking the rolls you see here and polishing my grandmother's silver while my Mother focused on the pies.

Everyone helps out in the kitchen.  Mom usually got up at about 5 am to put the turkey she'd prepped the previous night into the oven, then went back to sleep.  Later in the morning everyone got up to pull pomegranite seeds, peel and mash potatoes and sweet potatoes, thaw peas, prepare garnishes, fruit salad, prepare crystal serving ware, make gravy out of turkey drippings, carve turkey, prepare any canned or jarred items for presentation on the table or anything else my Mother had in mind for that year.  In recent years my mother has gotten cable access to cooking shows, so this year's garnishes included tomato peel rosettes, scalloped citrus fruits, and--my favorite--two peeled out orange skins to bowl the cranberry sauce.

There is also precise artwork included in the setting of the table.  Polished silver and china from my grandmother, fancy fall leaf glasses for apple cider, ALWAYS a table cloth with fall themed colors with cloth napkins, placed perfectly so that every table setting is a masterpiece.  Nanette was the perfect one to arrange this year.  She has an eye for detail that is pretty amazing. Fork on the left, with napkin benieth, spoon and knife on the right with knife blade in toward plate for safety and class, individual butter knives placed horizontally over setting with blade to right and down, glass above right side, roll pate above left side, bowl on dinner plate all set to perfection.  On other memories, please appreciate the delicious California sun coming through every window in the house.  Green leaves still on trees, you can't see the Santa Ana breeze outside, but it IS breath taking.



My plate before the meal begins



And then the experience begins.  After a prayer, a cloth napkin is placed in lap as Mom serves the first course.  I had never had nor imagined that I would like squash soup before, but it was truly a masterpiece.  Imagine, if you can, a creamy goodness with curry spice and pureed pears, cradled in your perfectly shining silver soup spoon.  I pause just to think of it.  Everyone had seconds if not thirds of this beautiful starter even before the meal began. 

 

Then, thanksgiving is served

 

  I think that this is the only time in my life that the word smorgasboard comes to mind.  Before digging in, everyone just looks, appreciates, and feasts their eyes once again on this collected labor of love for the artwork that is thanksgiving meal.  Notice the citrus and pomegranite garnishes, each selected to complement the color of the base meal, the tomato rosette in the stuffing, the baby onions in the peas, the individualized jam and special silver spoons for serving them.  This meal is the artwork that we all worked to make in the week.  Eating it slowly and sumptuously is the tradition of thanksgiving day.

 

 

And this is what every thanksgiving plate of mine has looked like in my mother's home since I was old enough to sit at the adult table.  Only things missing, a roll on the top plate with square of butter on side, cranberries nestled between sweet potatoes and stuffing, and turkey dripping gravy poured over stuffing, turkey, and potatoes.  I was too busy eating later to catch the full picture. :)

I'm sure that this post seems a little over the top and corny for some, but it really is a labor of love with people who love eachother, united to create a series of moments. I love my mother's house, and my family all knows how to work together to get this done.  All knowing what to do and just how to do it to create excellence.  It's a tradition that resonates with what I like about myself at my core.

So Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  I hope that we all get to take part in some culinary art this week.

 



Thanksgiving tree

Tada!!! 

I really like this new tradition.  I like it because it's fun, but also because it's something I thought of while with Dale, and not something that was only ours as a kid and we're trying to make fit into our new life together.

For those of you who didn't see the starting tree I'll re-explain.  I put up a trunk and branches then added things I was grateful for on post-it notes as leaves.  We ended up cutting the green stickies in half so they might take up less space and look more like leaves.  I stuck to my goal of 5 leaves per day, and Dale participated often. 

During a month where I was just adjusting to an unexpected bout of renewed unemployment, this was a really nice habit to practice, especially in the holiday month of Thanksgiving.  Dale and I really do have a lot!  Most posts centered around little services and expressions of love to eachother, the bounty with our apartment, cars, income, family communication, ward support, and of course food that I get to buy, look at, cook, eat, and enjoy in every way.  (I really love everything involved with cooking).  I kindof wish I got to do it every month with a new holiday...