How do you define a mother’s love? Among other things, I always cooked for my children to show my love for them. This time I went far beyond that for daughter Lise. I performed a household chore that I despise – dusting. She is the only one who has ever taken a bath more than once in our tub. That’s why I dusted it before she arrived. Using water to clean it would have been a disaster.
While we were driving to the airport, neighbor Shawn’s grandson Pico explored our porch. He loved the trains and took the yellow boxcar back to her house. She texted me that he had done it, but I couldn’t see the photograph she attached until we got home. Isn’t he cute?
Pico and the boxcar
Lise loves pumpkin pie, and I always make one for her when she visits in November. This year four of us ate half of it at one sitting. If she doesn’t get enough to satisfy her, I’ll make another one. At the time she ate her slice, she had been awake and traveling for 24 hours. I think she looks pretty good to be as tired as she must have been.
A week ago on Sunday was Remembrance Day here, and we found it so meaningful. Lisa and I were impressed with the trumpet in church, and when we saw a replay of the morning’s activities when the Queen and lots of others laid poppy wreaths at the tomb of the unknown soldier, we heard the same melody by a corp of trumpets. Seems to me that in the US it is just an excuse for another holiday, but here they really set out to make people remember what they went through during wars.
I must report that cold weather has helped the washing machine. It must like a cool climate. Now it is willing to release the clothes as soon as they are through being washing or dried. This saves countless trips and hours of time because I so often did the initial jiggle of its door latch and then forgot to go back five minutes later.
John $ helped with the shopping this week – after I’d packed the items in my basket, he calmly reached out and helped himself to half a dozen eggs. Dropped them all into the shopping trolley. I rescued two whole ones and the four broken ones. Made somewhat of a mess on the floor, but not as bad as the time I dropped some. I was able to use what was left in the shells for Kate’s birthday cake. The cake was one of the lightest I’d ever made, so maybe shaking up the eggs was a good idea.
There is no photo of the lightest cake I ever made.
$ has turned several things into walkers – a kitchen chair, tall stool and large plastic carton in which some soda was delivered by the milkman. He also has taken a step or so – the first I noticed was this past week when he had been holding to my knee while I was sitting and turned, took a step, and lurched toward the counter. Couldn’t really class that as walking, though.
Kate quoted, or misquoted, from a message sent to her, “Tell you mother we NEARLY enjoy her letters.”
Do any of you still have the November Reader’s Digest around? Look on page 40. John was reading, noticed the ad and thought he was reading a local publication. He suddenly realized this was a picture taken in Reigate for an American magazine! Mr. Clewes, the gardener, was able to tell me where the shop is – just a few blocks from our house! I looked up the telephone number, and sure enough, the one in the ad is the real number! Later that day the girls and I drove past it to look at it. Small world!
We duly celebrated birthdays this week. John made a point of getting home much earlier than he has been. We ate together, had a treasure hunt, opened gifts and took pictures. Lisa was very grateful for everything she received. I think she thought her special day would be the bleakest ever with no family or friends around to help celebrate. She said it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d thought. So, thanks for all your cards, gifts, phone calls, thoughts, and prayers.
Nothing is sacred around here. $ loves to check the loos to see if anyone has left the toilet seat open for him to play in the water. This week he found something better – toilet paper dangling within reach! He’d unrolled enough to go from the bathroom upstairs to the one downstairs! I penned him up long enough to slowly rewind every last sheet! Bet in another month or so I’d make a good spy – able to size up a situation ahead of time in just a few seconds. Wonder if spies are ever trained that way?
John was talking to a tree surgeon here to assess what work needs to be done when the man volunteered information about the Mehrling name. He said he had been doing some genealogical research and came across the name repeatedly. It is a common name in some little town in Austria where many of the Mehrlings carve religious figures from wood! That would really be fun to find, wouldn’t it?
John couldn’t believe it when the phone rang and his sister Barbara was on the other end. The girls were so excited at hearing cousins Tonja and Anders.
John $ is still fighting a cold, so I stayed home with him while he napped. The girls and John walked to church and heard a good enough sermon to come home quoting a lot of it to me. I used the quiet time to start my own study – read lots of Peter. Just scanned the gospels and the first part of Acts to see what was mentioned about him by name. Interesting.
This afternoon Kate went for a long walk with me and John $. I’m just beginning to notice footpaths running all through Reigate, but you can’t explore them by car! She and I went on the path that begins across from St. Mary’s. It was a lovely walk with hedges and green meadows on one side and wooden fences with gates to enter people’s gardens on the other. It ends up almost at the beginning of the High Street in town. We came back another way using the walk I’ve been wanting to see because it is behind the wall that is so close to the street on the road we use bringing the girls home from school. I saw at least three other paths I’d like to explore another time.
Merrin, the girl from Australia, called Lisa this afternoon because she’d forgotten to bring a certain book home from school. She walked up, played games with Lisa and walked home. I forgot to ask if she remembered to take the book. Must have.
John, meanwhile, was studying Sunday School lessons. He does a lesson with each girl Sunday afternoons, if possible. We had thought of going to Canterbury today, but the weather didn’t look good, $ wasn’t well, and John had a scratchy throat. Lisa discovered that Caroline across the street has flu, so we may be in for a long winter.
John was asking at the office what were their customs at Christmas. He says they don’t do any celebrations on Christmas Eve. They mentioned liking the idea of having special things both Eve and Day and thinking it was American. They said the very religious go to midnight church services as well as the service on Christmas Day. I must ask some of our local church friends what the customs are here.
I’ll tell a story John told me because I don’t know that he would take time to tell it. He and several others from the office were entering an elevator, sorry, lift, talking about British Rail. They were saying that delays are blamed on funny things like wet leaves, etc. A man already in the lift asked in an obvious American accent, “Are you talking about the Long Island Railroad?” I think John must have nearly keeled over. [He commuted on the Long Island for 30 years, and delays were really blamed on wet leaves.]
It was my fault the sun was so high in the sky. I lay in bed reading comments and blog posts that had come in during the night instead of getting up when the alarm rang. The sun was welcome to warm our backs at the creek. When we turned to walk home, it was piercingly bright in our eyes. John shaded his face with a hand, while I just squinted. On the way up the steep hill, my hat had a suggestion. It said, “Pull the brim down, silly.”
I’ll bet the hat got its wisdom from friend Karen, who knitted it for me several years ago. I flipped the edge and felt instant relief from the unrelenting sun. Anything that dramatic should be recorded.
Would you agree the camera did an excellent job with this one-shot selfie? It must have been on auto-pilot, because unlike a cell phone, it has only one lens. Good going, Cammie!
The way I’ve written about neighbor Logan, you’d think he walked on water and never did anything wrong. He is a normal ten-year-old, and he succumbed to chocolate temptation. This is how I knew about it. A couple of hours after Shawn said they would come for lunch to celebrate her birthday, she asked if I would please not serve dessert. That put me on the spot, because I had just finished cooking a dark chocolate pudding. Almost in a panic, I texted her, explaining that the dessert was already made. The choice was hers – we would not have any dessert at all, or we could have a dollop of pudding. She wrote back that a tiny serving would be fine. Logan had sneaked some of his Halloween candy after she told him he could have it the next day. I’ll bet this was a classic case where the punishment hurt the parent more than the child. We’d all roll with it.
Lunch was very pleasant, since Logan’s manners are quite good. He entered into the conversation and sat quietly while waiting for us to finish. I had my mind on making coffee before bringing out the dessert. Maybe that’s why I forgot to put the candle in Shawn’s pudding and didn’t take a single photo. After David came home from work, I put the candle in his dessert. It is pictured with an orange to show how small it was.
No one complained about the diminutive dessert, though we joked about it. I suggested we set a timer to see if we could make it last five minutes. The challenge was accepted. We did it! All four of us still had a bit in our glasses when the timer rang.
The next day I laid out the glass beside a normal teaspoon and the demitasse spoon we used to eat the pudding.
The spoon was too big for the glass. We used the spoon right way up until it wouldn’t fit, then we turned it upside down and used the handle to finish.
And the rest of the story? John, David, and I had normal portions of pudding before going to bed. I was surprised to realize the tiny one was far tastier, probably because we concentrated on making it last.
Impromptu happenings work well in our neighborhood. It was the day before Shawn’s birthday, and I found out that Bob and his brother were in Georgia for a construction job. Logan (10) had a day off from school for Veteran’s Day, so it seemed a perfect time to get together for an early dinner. You’d think, with my intrusive camera history, that I would have documented the occasion. No, there was not a single picture of Shawn, not one! I’m very sorry now, because this is where the best shot would have been.
When Logan came in, I quietly suggested that he might stay after lunch, and we’d bake something for his mother’s birthday. He was amenable. I measured the dry ingredients after getting out the equipment we’d need. He was right there to measure the shortening, a job that could have been quite messy but wasn’t.
Cutting in the shortening was fun for a short while, so I finished that.
Logan was back to help stir in the liquids.
Painting was easy for him. I melted the butter and poured it on the rolled-out dough, and he used a pastry brush to spread it.
He did a lovely job of scattering the chocolate chips and nuts evenly on the dough. He also learned that water acts as glue on dough. I moistened one edge so that it would stick when the dough was rolled up.
We repeated the process to make a smaller roll. The small one was for them to taste while it was warm, and the larger would be Shawn’s birthday breakfast. This was a quick yeast dough that took us only two hours from start to delivery. I can’t tell from the photo if Logan was proud of himself or only posing at my request. I can tell you I was pleased with him for sticking with the project.
Early last week Gillian H came over to watch me make bread. I thought most recipes for bread were fairly standard, but evidently the English ones differ in several respects. They (Caroline was with her, being out of school for mid-term) exclaimed over the greasing of the dough before the first rising. Maybe that’s why the loaves here are so crusty and dry!
In return, I asked her to teach me to make tea, and she said, “Why, that’s so simple!” Might be simple to her, but there is a ritual to it. She brought the water to a boil, poured a little in the pot to warm it, poured that out, measured about two teaspoons for two cups of tea, poured on water, stirred it, and let it steep two minutes. Then she poured milk in the cups! She claims it makes it taste different to put milk in and then pour the tea, but says her husband disagrees with her. I’ve tried it several times, but it doesn’t taste as good as when she made it, and it was done here with my own tea! They disdain tea bags. Tea is poured out leaves and all; you just don’t drain your cup. If you were having tea in the sitting room, you’d have a bowl handy for the “slops” she said, if you’re having a second cup right away.
We had our interview at Fair Dene school. While waiting on a stair landing for the head mistress, who should come up to speak to us but Mary L [from church]! She is the Latin teacher at that school! The head was young and very pleasant.
Two days we had snow flurries and woke up to white on the ground Friday. Everyone exclaimed over it; normally none sticks until after Christmas. I had never seen snow with fall colors still dressing trees nor snow on hydrangeas.
View from our bedroom window
John had been after me to get the geraniums in the house, so I finally did it. It would have been comical to watch; there I was in the old horse-blanket poncho digging away while the wind blew the coat over my head. John $ was in tears as fancy company began arriving across the street for a school fete of some sort. The final indignity was blowing rain! I got half in the pots when a particularly stiff breeze came along and knocked them all over. Since I got them amassed on the desk in the guest room, I haven’t dared go near them. They say plants can feel when a threatening force comes near.
We went to Inger L’s for a proper English tea. Never mind that she is from Finland! We had toasted cheese sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches, fancy biscuits (cookies), mincemeat tarts, and jellies (jello). She had put her old high chair out for $, though it looked finer than ours the day we bought it. Also had a plastic bib, cup and plate. He ate everything in sight!
The new Silverstone cookware got me in trouble. I was doing crepes one day when I noticed how slippery the pancakes were in that fine pan. I was tempted to try flipping them in the air. The first one flipped all the way over and landed in the pan, but on the side already cooked. The next one didn’t want to let go, and there I was gyrating with the pan while the crepe held on with 100 feet. The next to the last one did a beautiful flip, went right past the pan and landed in a heap on the floor. Tasted good, though, to the birds.
One’s burning ambition for an only son is not that he become a garbage collector. John $ has! At least it was clean garbage this week – he chewed on a discarded sliver of soap.
I had two dates on the calendar for neighbor Bob’s birthday. I entered both at different times and didn’t know which was correct. Shawn texted that they were going to their son’s home for dinner that evening, the day before the birthday. I removed the wrong date and decided to make waffles for their breakfast. It was a nice thought, but I had no delivery plan. Several hours later, I texted, “Are you home? I’d like to bring over waffles for Bob’s birthday, if that would be ok.”
No answer. Shawn’s phone might have been off or dead. Also, messages sometimes don’t go through in this area, even when phones are on. I’d think of something in the morning.
At 7:01 before I got dressed for walking, I wrote that I put the waffles on my front porch and hoped she’d see the message in time. If not, they would be preserved, because it was two degrees below freezing at that time. Shawn and Bob have an outdoor cat and three indoor dogs, so my porch was inherently safer for food than hers. She replied with thanks at 7:02. Yes! The bag was gone when I stepped out to walk.
I didn’t see the rest of the story until after I came home. We have a new security camera that I’ve been playing with. The video at 7:06 showed Logan (10) running across the grass and gingerly walking on gravel with BARE FEET!
A bare foot at 28F (-2.22C)
Video credits go to grandson David. Although I had transferred cam files before, I worked for two days to do it again and couldn’t. He found a way in minutes! Let’s have a round of applause for David!
Thanks to Happiness Engineer Chrissie for technical assistance. The photo and video are in a “columns” block.
As I walked over the hill, I saw two big blobs on the road making noises back and forth. As my feet stopped, the camera came out of my pocket. I didn’t know what I was seeing or hearing, but I wanted to photograph the scene.
The blobs were large birds, probably hawks. Their wings were extended in arcs, and their tail feathers were splayed.
Although I kept my distance, the birds were aware of me. One flew to the fence. When I looked at the image on the computer screen, I could see some white markings on its back. When son John $pencer looked at it with me, we decided these were probably Cooper’s hawks.
The hawk on the road stayed there after the one on the fence flew away. I wonder if it felt foolish, holding that puffed-up stance. It pulled itself together and flapped off. This was an exciting way to start the day.
Grandson David has loved trains all his life. When he was very small, he’d take a nap in John’s caboose as John pulled a train around the club track on Long Island. He is all grown up now and recently was the engineer of a friend’s train at the club in Tennessee. This is what I’ve been waiting for – a good photo that shows my fellows on a train. John was the conductor, sitting at the end of the train. A friend took this photo and published it in the club newsletter. Can you tell by their faces how much fun they were having?
My name is Suki, my human is a writer, and this is about my world. The world according to Suki The Cat. My humans smell funny, look weird, and I can't understand a thing they say, but they feed me, so hey, what are you gonna do?
Mehrling Muse 