Whereupon Gramma Vowed Never to Eat Polenta Again!

Polenta! Betcha want some polenta, right! Probably wondering what it is and how to cook it, right?

I think I was eating the stuff before you were born. And so was my Mom. And my Grandma. And so were Per Hansa and his wife, Beret, the main characters in O.E. Rolvaag's fiction, Giants in the Earth. (Per Hansa and his wife and family were Norwegian immigrants who settled in eastern South Dakota after having spent time in Minnesota.)

In 1949 our family was living on a small hill farm in western Iowa. We ate polenta cornmeal mush. And we didn't buy it in a box at the grocery store. My dad used a Maytag motor to power a small grinder which turned yellow corn into a meal that could be cooked into mush.

The photo may be a different model than my Dad's Maytag, but it's similar. A belt ran from the wheel on the Maytag to a similar wheel on the grinder. When it wasn't powering the grinder, he had it hooked up to the wringer washer for our laundry. It made a very satisfying chuggy noise.

We were eating from the bottom of the barrel in 1949 when my mother cooked mush for cereal and then sliced the leftover mush and fried it for the next meal.

Mom says that when she was a child, growing up on the family homestead in Nebraska, cornmeal mush was often on the table. And when my Grandmother moved to California in the late 1940s she (Grandmother) vowed to never eat corn meal again. California was the new land of plenty and I'll bet she kept her vow.

As for Per Hansa and his wife, Berta, in Rolvaag's novel? They subsisted nearly a year eating only cornmeal every meal. For a treat, such as some child's birthday, she allowed them to sweeten it with a bit of sugar.

"Real" polenta is actually a popular food in Italian and other European cuisine. You can read more about polenta here. Alton Brown has a recipe and instructions here.

Now...that is, today...in our country, cornmeal mush has gone from poor man's food to a premium menu item in the finest restaurants. Go figure.

If you haven't tried polenta, think of Cream of Wheat, only in a yellow version with a corny taste. Or if you are from the South, think of Grits, made from white corn.

And You? What are YOU having for dinner tonight?

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Steak Knives Are Not Just for Steaks

Today's Hint: Don't leave all those steak knives in the drawer. In fact, leave a couple out where you garden. They are perfect for skimming tiny weeds from the soil in areas where you need a delicate touch and do not wish to disturb more desired plants. A knife allows you to be more precise than a long-handled hoe. Plus they're perfect for jabbing down next to the root of a larger weed and popping it from the soil.

Some blades work better than others. I like a serrated, curved edge. If you're a yard sale aficionado you can find great steak knives for a pittance.

Keep your favorite garden "steak" knife with your other garden tools. (I keep one in a flower pot near the back door, but this is NOT a good idea if you have small children living or visiting with you. In that case, keep it out of reach!!)

Yesterday - Just Fluff! Today - Deadly Serious!

Yesterday's post was "fluff" if you please. Today's is more serious. I guess you could call it "deadly serious".

Unless you've been following my blog for awhile, you may be unaware of the following:

1) I'm a lot older than most of my readers...except for my mom, who obviously is older than I. *waves hi to mom!*

2) I have ovarian cancer, diagnosed about 18 months ago.

3) I am well into my second series of chemo...carbo/taxol/Avastin... and hope to finish up with the heavy guns the last week in July. I'm thinking my Oncologist may have me continue on with the Avastin. He recently attended a conference in Chicago where results of a clinical trial show that continuance with Avastin has efficacy in extending "stability"...that means it extends the time of non-recurrence. It is not a cure. I'm all for extending time of non-recurrence. On the other hand every drug has it's risks...including Avastin. So I'm happy on one hand to have it available and I'm a bit apprehensive on the other hand as to whether the possible benefits outweigh possible risks.

4) My hubby, who has been bearing the brunt of being "caretaker" during this time has himself now been diagnosed with a major health problem. That means we both are looking at serious stuff in terms of treatment, well-being during and after treatment, and...if you wish to really know...in terms of the end of our lives.

Some of you, being younger, may look at us as "old" and therefore "naturally" close to the end of our lives. But from our perspective, we are still "young" relatively speaking! We have many friends and relatives who are much older than we, and who are still living stable, healthy lives...people who are happy and hale. So even though we may be "old" in your eyes, it is startling to be advised that we have suddenly shifted from "well" to having "serious health issues".

(Some of you, being younger, may be blissfully unaware that either of our two ailments can happen to people in your age bracket...the twenties, thirties, forties, etc. Please be advised that I have become acquainted with many of your age who are dealing with the same health issues with which we are dealing. Youth is not a safety net when it comes to the peculiarities of disease!)

I want to say this...during this time we have had to look at "life" and "death". We've looked at the "what-ifs" and the "whens" and the "why-fores". And I, at least, am astounded that we are moving through this with grace...a God-given grace that precludes anxiety or despair! We're certainly curious about it all, educating ourselves as to the ailments and the treatments, learning to eat in ways that enhance our daily lives, setting aside things that used to be "important", and recognizing a little more truly that "life here on earth is short".

We are almost, but not quite, surprised to be able to look back and see God's providential care (Divine Providence, if you please) through all of this. We see circumstances taken care of almost on their own...or at least in a sequence that has eased us through the past 18 months. Happenings that brought us to good health care and diagnosis at the right time. Responsibilities that were taken off our shoulders at the right moment. We have seen God's providential care for us in all of this. We rest easy in His care.

I'm not saying this past year and a half has been without concern or fret. We (at least I) have been forced to look carefully at our faith, at the promises of Scripture, at the hope we have in Christ. I've been forced to bend my knee in prayer, bowing down to God through all of this. And I have had to conclude that it is not about me. It is all about Christ. It is not about us. It is all about the good and perfect will of God.

I've been reminded of such words as Job's "Even though he slay me, yet will I trust him".

And Isaiah 43:2 "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you: and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you."

This past couple weeks I've begun reading through Kevin DeYoung's book on the Heidelberg Catechism. Question #1 in that catechism is "What is your only comfort in life and in death?" The answer to that question could be summed up in "I belong fully to Christ and He provides all that I need, both here and now, and in the hereafter. That is the ultimate comfort in life. And it is the ultimate comfort as we go into death.

The Heidelberg Catechism itself includes scripture references below each question/answer (DeYoung's book does not include the scriptures) and I've been reading each of those scriptures. They remind me and reassure me of the good promises of God. Scriptures such as: (You can hover your cursor over each scripture to read them.)
I Cor. 6:19-20
Romans 14:7-9
I John 1:7-9
I John 2:2
Hebrews 2:14-15
John 6:39-40 (I love this one!)
John 10:27-30 (and this one as well!)
Matthew 10:29-31
Romans 8:28
Romans 8:15-16
2 Corinthians 1:21-22 (this one!)
2 Corinthians 5:5
Ephesians 1:13-14 (and this!)

My prayer for you is that you know and understand that our salvation is found in the work of Christ...and that you understand more fully each day the promise of God's providential care for those who are His. This is where true comfort lies.

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Upon Which I Am Published...And I Didn't Even Ask!!!

Although I seldom do much quilting these days, there were several years when quilting was a passion. Now and then I still have a yen to put together some fabrics...usually recycled shirt fabrics...into a quilt. But these days the yen doesn't seem to move from my brain cells to my sewing machine. Other things are more important on my mind.

Still...it was quite exciting when I was recently approached by Marina and Daryl of Quilt Inspiration asking for permission to include a couple of my shirt quilts in today's article on quilts from recycled clothing. (This quilt is not shown there but two others are.)

Their previous articles have impressed me in terms of scope, creativity, and effort! They have spent considerable time researching, gathering, writing. So when they asked if they could feature a couple of my quilts, I fell on the floor and nearly begged, "Oh, please do!" Not wishing to grovel, however, I managed to remain calm. And while I can't remember how I worded my emailed response, I'm certain it was full of graceful decorum...they had no clue I was reaching up from the floor to type my email.

So if you love quilts (or if you are just plain curious) go to their article posted today..."Waste not, want not; Quilts from reclaimed clothing". You will be amazed at the creativity of today's quilters.

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The Bottom Line Has Changed

Health Care seems to have no simple answers. But here is the situation from a friend's viewpoint.

My friend and her hubby run a small clinic in a small town that caters to health situations of a particular dimension. They have a small staff of four or five who have been with them for a long time and who are like family to them. Most of their patients are elderly and on Medicare.

My friend and her hubby are several years past retirement age themselves. They plan to shut down their clinic when he turns seventy next year. In the meantime they no longer are taking on new patients. And, why? Because payments for patients on Medicare have been reduced 21.3 percent.

As my friend says...their rent has not been reduced nor have their staff salary expenses been reduced.

They tried selling their clinic to a group of physicians from a nearby city but the group declined to take on a small clinic 30 or 40 miles from their main office. The doors will be shut. Patients will need to drive 30 to 40 miles to another doctor.

I don't know the answers in regards to national health care. I'm just sharing this one little anecdote. I wish it were an easy scenario but it is not.
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Upon Which I Tell You About Paddy Paws our Polydactyl Cat

My friend Grahamn Kracker left a comment on my last post stating that he never stops blogging, not for busyness, not for the things of summer....unless he is somewhere where he cannot access the net. Mr. Kracker startled me for a moment for it had been such a long time since his previous comment that I had forgotten who he is.

So I wandered around a bit, looked him up, and remembered, "Oh, of coursed! Mr. Kracker is his pseudonym...or is Mr. Kracker his REAL name and Bill Hess his pseudonym." Aw, Shucks. Mystery!

At any rate, Mr. Kracker, aka Mr. Hess, aka Bill of Wasilla, loves cats. And so today's short post is for Mr. Kracker. (Or is it Mr. Hess?)

Years ago, almost 25 years ago, my daughter and I lived in a small apartment on the second floor of a large home. Our windows looked out into the trees, making for a tree-house feeling. At that time it was a good place for us to live. We had a third resident, a gray tiger kitty called "Mouse". No other name seemed to fit her grayness. Mouse was a good companion to my daughter and amongst other games, would play fetch with marbles rolled down the long hallway.

Daughter and I made the mistake (happenstance) of visiting the pet shop in the mall where we just had to stop and pet the kitties. One gray-and-white had a six-toed genetic variation on its front paws. We were smitten. Smitten with the kitten! The owner assured us this was a male kitten. This was important because neutering a male would be cheaper than spaying a female and we were on a tight budget at the time. Even buying the kitten was outside of our weekly budget. But we fell for this kitty. We fell hard. And so we brought it home.

We named the kitty Paddy Paws. (The name should have been Paddy Polydactyl Paws.) We took the kitten to our local vet to follow up with any remaining shots and to inquire when we should bring "him" in for neutering. The vet, too, named this kitty a "he".

Paddy Paws was darling. Paddy Paws loved playing. Paddy Paws even seemed to get along well with Mouse. But Paddy Paws never learned (refused) to use the litter box. Our apartment was small and we did not want to deal with a second litter box. And we did not know how to keep Paddy Paws from sneaking through a small hole behind the bathtub and using the attic space for a toilet. (I never told our landlord!)

So Paddy Paws had to go (pun intended) and where better to go than to the farm where we had acquired Mouse. Farmer and his wife already had plenty of kitties, some of which were house cats and the others well-fed barn cats. All were well attended and we knew Paddy Paws would be safe there.

Paddy Paws showed that vet a thing or two. SHE had several litters of kitties in her short life. Most of them exhibited the six-toe gene. Sadly, along with the mutation she passed on a "short life" gene of some sort. Paddy Paws lived only a few short years. One day her owners found her out on the lawn where she had gone to sleep and never woke up.

Her kittens, too, seemed to die young, even though all were well fed and received appropriate vet attention at various times in their lives. (Not all polydactyl cats are short-lived but for some reason she and her kittens seemed to have this problem.)

I talked to Mr. Farmer a few years back and he said all the neighbors were experiencing six-toed kitties amongst their litters. One or more of Paddy Paws' descendants were toms, and in farm country, toms venture from farm to farm doing what toms do.

And that's my story for the day.

As for Mr. Bill Hess (I think that's his pseudonym and I'm certain Grahamn Kracker is his REAL name)...well, he has a photo on the front page of yesterday's Anchorage Daily News). Click here to read more.

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Keep Your Eyes on the Kid With the Mitt!

There's a penguin somewhere in Pennsylvania.

Sorry...I borrowed that line from Debby. Keep reading.

The summer months must be busy ones for most of us. I've noticed that many of my fellow bloggers are skipping days, writing short posts, bemoaning their lack of words. The truth is, we're enjoying summer.

Except for Debby, who is slugging it out trying to keep her nose above water while taking a summer class in Anatomy and Physiology...at least I think that's the class...A&P. With the pressure of school, job, home, she's getting delusional. This week she spotted a penguin in a tree while driving down the highway. In Pennsylvania, no less! I don't know what to say about that except that she just finished up a psych class and I'm certain that had nothing to do with the penguin sighting.

As for me? Last night I had one of those recurring dreams. In the dream I am getting dressed to be somewhere important and I'm rummaging through the closet trying to find something to wear. I find plenty of clothes but they are either dirty or one size too small. Last night I found several nice skirts, none of which were familiar and none of which fit!

And what is this important event that I'm attending? This morning I'll be spending four hours in a recliner while Nurse D administers a series of drugs. Carboplatin. Paclitaxel. Avastin. Plus several more drugs that prevent nausea, fever, allergic reaction. Plus the Benedryl. Which knocks me out for the duration of the four hour infusion. I don't worry about sleeping the night before because I know I'll get a good rest in the chemo chair.

Other things are happening in our lives, of course. Granddaughter M visited from Oregon and brought Great-grandson Marcus. He plans to play baseball in college and told his mom he needed a glove so he could start practicing Now! I've seen some little kid-size gloves but never one so small (and so cute!)

As for my reading of Kevin DeYoung's The Good News We Almost Forgot, I'm enjoying it very much. I'll post about it soon. So keep tuned.

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