When Family Can't Be There

Last Saturday Rob and I ran our marathon. We set and trained for this goal as a couple, but I found myself needing lots of encouragement and reassurance from others. Our neighbors and dear friends, Shan and Brian Sullivan, drove over 2 hours just so they could stand at the finish line and cheer us on by name (and record our deed for posterity!) More than I would ask, even of a relative, Shan gave me a big hug as I came through and even kissed me on my oh, so sweaty forehead and told me how proud of me she was. No mother or sister could have done more. They quietly drifted off, leaving us to stretch and rehydrate, but it meant SO much to have them there.

As you can imagine, I REALLY wanted to sleep in on Sunday morning, but we got a call at 6:40 am that another neighbor and good friend, Kim, was in labor. She and Steve dropped their 2 kids off at 7am and we kept them most of the day. A relaxing Mother's Day turned a little busier, just when I wanted to spend all day curled up in my bed. Then I started thinking about all the friends that have been there for us in our hours of need, when family was far away and couldn't help. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I started to feel grateful that I could "be there" for my friend and somehow pass along the help and support that others have given me.

We have lived away from our families for 10 years now. We've shared baby births, hospital visits, carpooling, youth activities, miscarriages, marriage trouble and divorce, illness, Thanksgiving dinners, Easter egg hunts, weekend road trips and Christmas Eves with the families in our neighborhoods and wards in Indiana and North Carolina. All the things we would have shared with family have been shared with others who have become our family. I love these people so much and I'm so grateful they've stepped in to our lives.

Fear Not

I turned 37 a few weeks ago and decided I wanted to have a theme for this year of my life. I've chosen my theme from 2 Timothy 1:7--For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. FEAR NOT!

I've realized that with all of the changes in the past year, I have become a fearful person. Here are some of the things I'm afraid of, both rational and irrational (you'll probably be able to tell which is which):

• CHANGE
• getting rid of things
• not being able to sell our house
• finding new friends; saying goodbye to old friends
• my children growing up, whether I'm ready or not
• not having any more babies
• tsunamis, earthquakes, fires
• not being strong enough to handle my life
• getting old
• being attacked by a rabid squirrel while running on the trails near our house
• not keeping my house clean enough

One goal I set this year is to run a marathon, which Rob and I will do on May 7th. This process has been a test for me in many ways--not only building the physical endurance I'll need, but also shoring up my mental capacity and casting out all the fearful thoughts that sneak in to tell me I'll never make it, I'm not strong enough, I'm not brave enough, etc.

It is hard to conquer those thoughts and find the feelings of power, love, and a sound mind. I continue to struggle with accepting the changes that are in store for our family and what it will mean for me personally. My mind keeps going back to a wonderful article I read at Christmas, called "How Shall This Be?" . Jane Wise talks about the lessons we can learn from the Nativity story and it feels like she's talking directly to me:

"The ordinary, comfortable, even safe life has been interrupted. Things are not what were hoped for; they are not what was planned for. God has interrupted, pushing aside the ordinary to conceive something out of the ordinary. We may not understand it, and we may not be able

to manage it. What can we do? We can receive it, as frightening as that sounds."

Frightening indeed, but I'm really trying to choose faith, not fear.

Makin' my way in the world today

Last year, it felt like I would burst if I didn't write. I felt like I had words and thoughts just crammed in my head, waiting to be let out. This year, not so much. Not as much to say. Still trying to sell the house, still waiting to transition to Georgia, still wondering how to parent a teenager. But I do have an itch to create something.

A few months ago, a wise friend advised me to spend a few minutes each day on something that wouldn't get UNdone (as opposed to things like laundry and dinner dishes, which are endlessly repeated) I have *mostly* kept my sewing stuff packed up in an effort to keep the house clean, but I'm pining for a project. I decided to keep a record of the things I create this year--partly to keep notes to my self, but mostly to remind me of those things that stayed done.

My first project of the year: Ruffled Scarf! I made two that I wasn't thrilled with, but finally got it on the third, as a gift for Maddie's friend. I will have to get new fabric and make another one for me.

I used this tutorial but made a few adjustments.

Scarf #1

Single layer, 4 inches wide. I bought the polka dots thinking it would go with tons of stuff, but I think it kind of looks like a clown ruffle. I also didn't like how the unprinted underside showed so much.

Scarf #2

I used a more reversible knit for this one and did double layers. (3"top layer, 6" bottom layer). I liked how it looked, but found it was too long once I was all finished. I should have made tighter ruffles to shorten it.

Scarf #3

Eureka! I solved the reversible problem by doing two opposing layers for the bottom ruffle (5" wide). Top layer is 3". The biggest improvement by far was machine basting in two places (and then sewing down the middle of the two basting lines). It made the ruffles much more even. I made tighter ruffles too--gathering the 60" strip of fabric down to 34". It turned out MUCH better and I will do them this way from now on!

From Saturday Night to Saturday Night Live

When we lived in Bloomington with our 3 little girls, they loved to watch "The Lawrence Welk Show" on Saturday night on PBS. They would hurry through their baths and sit on our bed as we combed out their hair, rolled curlers, and laughed at the silly songs and frilly dresses on the show. I remember this song in particular, because we loved to hear Eloise's little voice singing "Frankfurter sandwiches".

It's hard to believe how long past those days are...and it really hit home the other night when Rob showed Maddie this Lawrence Welk skit from Saturday Night Live. It actually was late on Saturday night and she laughed SO hard and was so silly about re-enacting the skit the next day with her sisters. Very funny stuff, but it made me wonder--how has our life changed so much, so soon?

Thank You Bryan, whoever you are....

This afternoon I took a much-needed hour for myself and went running on the shady, autumn-leafed greenway near our house. As I ran, I began to notice messages along the path, written in children's writing with sidewalk chalk. GO GO GO. Go Bryan! Cool! You Can Do It!! You're Awesome! Run Fast!

At first it just made me smile, but then I started to feel like I had my own personal cheerleading section and I felt inspired to push on a little further than I'd planned. I saw a couple of messages that said 40 B4 40! and began to picture this Bryan in my head...a neighborhood Dad type of guy, coming up on the big 4-0, and setting some goals for himself. 40 miles? 40 races? 40 hours on the trail? I realized I could squeeze in 40 miles before age 40 if I did another half marathon and then a full marathon. I began to wonder, and to put "Flori" in wherever I read Bryan's name. (Go Flori!)

All this wondering about "Bryan" and I started to realize that life is good and people are good and all the little things that annoy me and frustrate me are not my LIFE, they're just little annoying things and they will pass. In the midst of all these thoughts, I saw a runner coming toward me. A dad-type of guy who was actually just how I'd imagined Bryan. I felt weirdly happy. And then I noticed that this man only had one arm--the other was off above his elbow. But he was just trucking along, enjoying the beautiful fall day like I was.
It really made me think. Not "Oh, my life could be so much worse..." but "my life could be so different". But it's not. This is the life I have right now and there are so many good things about it. There is so much I can do and enjoy, even if we can't manage to sell our house.

The last message on the trail said, VICTORY!!! Thank you, fellow travelers, for lighting my path today.

Designer Genes

Always looking for new and interesting creative challenges, I decided to try my hand at clothing design. Here are my dress designs for the Shabby Apple Dresses contest:

The first two designs hark back to the dropped-waist of some of my favorite 80s dresses. I am happy to see this style returning! The v-neck top and underskirt are made of a lycra knit covered in chiffon. Lined sleeves and a flowing 3-tiered chiffon skirt give plenty of coverage for modesty. Neck and dropped waist are trimmed with a matching cotton crochet trim to add a little texture. A detachable flower pin can be worn at the waist or shoulder. The color varies with the monitor, but the first dress is meant to be ivory colored with an orange/scarlet poppy. The second dress is a two-toned apple green with a white or cream flower.

I plan on making this dress whether I win the contest or not. I am IN LOVE with this fabric, Poppy Bouquet by Laura Gunn. Really, the entire line of hers is my favorite ever. The design is modeled on a girls dress I bought years ago at Goodwill. It has a zipper back, cap sleeves, a high waistline with no gathering, and a wonderful twirly skirt. I've added a matching grey belt, though I think it would look lovely with a bright red belt too.

The Beauty of two ugly quilts

My maternal grandmother Ruth Adams is a skilled quilter with many beautiful quilts to her credit. She has finally stopped quilting in the last year and divided her long-held fabric stash between my mother and aunts. While visiting my parents this summer, I cut squares from 36 of those vintage fabrics, including a scrap of the fabric used for the bridesmaid dresses at my parents' wedding. This was my triumphant and happy return to sewing after a 3-month hiatus and it was a great project! I was wondering what to use for the backing--I wanted something that looked old but wasn't too scary. I was so happy to find this length of fabric at Goodwill for $2.



Now that Rob is working at UGA, we feel obligated to pay homage to the famous Georgia bulldog. He was so happy to find this really awful fabric at Ikea: Varmt Hund. We bought one in red/white and one in black/white since those are all UGA's colors. The red one is a now an office wall hanging, and this one is a lap quilt for his attic office when it gets cold. You can't see it, but I machine quilted all around the dog. Again, I found an awesome backing at Goodwill--almost 4 yards of black velvet corduroy for just a few dollars.

I think these are the ugliest two quilts I've ever made, but they were very inexpensive and fun to do and I hope our family will get lots of good use from them!

Swooning

We are getting close to swooning around here. Maddie had developed an intense interest in historical fiction with a romantic twist. Over the summer we watched several versions of Pride and Prejudice (Colin Firth, *sigh*), Sense and Sensibility, and Jane Eyre (oh, that Mr. Rochester!)

We ended with an emotional Anne of Green Gables marathon. I remember the summer I first fell for Gilbert Blythe. I was 15 and we were visiting friends in Canada. They lived far out in the country and I was being a very ungracious house guest and proclaiming my teenage boredom throughout the house. The mom suggested I watch this new movie they had and I was hooked. I think I watched the whole series at least 3 times that week. It is fun to see Maddie get giddy for these romantic heroes and every time we watch one of these movies, I am SO glad I have girls who will swoon and sigh with me.

I laughed so hard the other day, talking with friends about the huge posters we used to have on the backs of our doors...Kirk Cameron, George Michael, the Top Gun team...and how we would get so dreamy about them. (Do they even make giant posters any more?!) I know those boy-crazy days are nearly here for Maddie, but I'll be glad for every day she keeps stars in her eyes for Gilbert Blythe.

Jello TAP-ee-OCA pudding

It may (or may not) surprise you to know that I have a serious weakness for commercial-grade pudding. I love pudding packs, and tapioca is my favorite. (On a side note, I really love homemade tapioca pudding. For some reason, my mom used to always put red food coloring in to turn it a pale shade of pink. I was an adult with my own children before I knew that tapioca is not really pink.)

Our small, limited-selection store, Aldi, usually only carries chocolate and vanilla packs. As I was gearing up for school lunches at the grocery store last week, I noticed they had a special purchase of both tapioca and butterscotch pudding. So I totally stocked up. Today as I made lunches for the first day of school, I proudly slipped a tapioca pudding and spoon into each lunch box, thinking what a fun treat it would be for the girls (and surreptitiously tucking the 4th snack pack in the fridge for my afternoon snack....)

Imagine my horror when one by one, each daughter came home from school, and told me, "Mom, that pudding you gave me was all rotten and curdled. I had to throw the whole thing away." Oh, the waste...
And oh, the sadness, when I told them they missed out on tapioca pudding. I sure enjoyed mine.

I think it might actually be okay...

One good friend took the older girls to the beach for a few days. Another good friend offered to keep Bea all day and overnight. (Don't I have the best friends, really?) That left Rob and me a little over 24 hours to make a quick trip down to Athens. He got his office keys, chose furniture and paint, finalized new computer details, and got his official University of Georgia ID. I committed myself to this move by buying a "Bulldogs" sweatshirt at the UGA bookstore, not a step to be taken lightly. As we drove to Georgia, I hoped I'd have better feeling about Athens than I had last time (when I cried on and off all weekend, and sobbed on the way home). I had a better feeling this time. MUCH better.

• It was interesting to walk through campus and absorb the energy of a big university and the history of "the oldest public university in the country" --as Rob reminded me several times, trying to impress me, I think :)

• It was encouraging to meet with a realtor who understood us and to narrow our search down to a manageable area of town with good schools and proximity to church and work. We still need to sell our house here before we can commit to anything there, but I was happy with our options and saw lots of neighborhoods that looked likely.

• After the past few busy weeks, it was lovely to have my husband to myself for a whole day. It's been a while since just the two of us have taken a road trip and it was fun just to be together and explore our new life without distraction. Simple pleasures like browsing in the bookstore, sleeping in, and sharing a diet vanilla Pepsi from the gas station just don't happen in our regular life.

We ate a really late dinner at The Grit, a little hipster, vegetarian college hangout type of restaurant. It was awesome and exactly the kind of place they DON'T have in Charlotte, but seems to abound in Athens. We had the best chocolate cake that I've ever had in my life, and I've really tried a lot of chocolate cake. I find myself looking on the bright side of things.

Everyday Food

With our house for sale and the pressure to keep it clean all the time (Boo, hiss....), I've pretty much stopped sewing altogether. It's just not worth it to get out all my stuff, set it up, work for a few minutes, and then clean it all up again. I like to sew for long stretches and make a big huge mess with several projects going at once and that doesn't work so well with our lifestyle right now.

So, I've turned to cooking in my need for a creative outlet and hobby. It still makes a mess, but it's also a *necessity* to feed my family, so I might as well experiment a little with some fun new recipes.

My new best friend is my subscription to Everyday Food magazine. My new obsessions: 1) ricotta cheese, 2) getting creative in using up our food storage.

Here are some of our favorites. The french dip is an old standby, but the rest are new found treasures.

French Dip Sandwiches I used London broil for the last batch and they were the best ever--so flavorful and hardly any fat. Use leftover meat in chimichangas or burritos.

Whole wheat flatbreads with lamb and yogurt (I used ground beef with great success. This was an instant mega hit. Make extra flatbreads to serve with hummus!)

Thai Beef with Chiles and Basil over coconut rice (I have made with ground beef, sausage, and chicken--all tasty. Great way to use lots of that yummy basil from your garden!)

Zucchini Pasta with Ricotta: very light and summery.

Roasted Potatoes with Ricotta (this one is newly published, so it's not on her website yet. It's a fantastic way to use up the other half of the ricotta from the zucchini pasta. You can also roast the zucchini and potatoes at the same time to cut down on your work later!)

Preheat oven to 450. Place 1 1/2 lbs. small new potatoes in center of a 3-ft. long piece of foil. Drizzle with 1 tsp. olive oil and season with coarse salt and ground pepper. Bring long sides of foil together and fold edges over, then tightly crimp ends to create a packet.

Roast on a baking sheet until cooked through, 35 to 40 minutes. In a small bowl, combine 1/2 cup ricotta, 2 Tbsp. finely grated Parmesan, and finely grated zest from 1/2 lemon; season with salt and pepper. When potatoes are cool enough to handle, cut a small X on top of each with a paring knife and gently squeeze open. Dollop about 1 tsp. ricotta mixture into each. Drizzle 1 Tbsp. olive oil over potatoes. Serves 4.

Finally!

One more dawn.
One more day.
One day more!

These words from Les Miserables keep running through my head.

Tomorrow is the last day of school and I'm ridiculously happy about it. I know a week from now I'll be complaining about the lack of routine, the messy house, and bored kids. But for now I'm so ready to stop making lunches, trying to catch the bus, and managing homework and projects. I'm going to sleep in on Friday just because I can.

It's still too early to tell if this is the summer where I'm incredibly organized and have fun activities and healthy snacks planned for my children each day.

And speaking of "The End", I recently read "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy--an apocolypse novel about the end of the world. Totally depressing and disturbing, but so interesting. I hope the end of the school year holds more promise than the novel.

I've still got my groove

Today I chaperoned Maddie's 7th grade end-of-year party at the skating rink. It was the consummate middle school social experience, complete with lots of awkward moments from "the sevvies". It was fun to see them gain in confidence and momentum as the party wore on and I'm continually impressed with the quality of kids at Maddie's school.

I was, however, unprepared for the flood of memories that came rushing back when I first walked in to the rink today. Bad memories: The sweaty foot smell, the nasty black carpets with squiggly neon designs, the truly horrible pizza, and the annoying DJ voice-overs. Good memories: the huge wooden floor, disco lights, watching awesome wipeouts and talented skaters/dancers, and the feeling of doing something really fun with my friends.

As 100+ middle schoolers circled the floor, I thought back through my roller skating history-- from learning to skate in our driveway on my white skates with noisy metal wheels, to birthday parties and field trips to the 49th Street Galleria, to college disco skating parties at Classic Skating. And then it all came to a screeching halt about 15 years ago.

The loud, beat-filled music wore on and I began to feel so old. I didn't recognize any of the songs, except the Old Faithful of all dance parties, "Forever Young". But even that had been remixed and pumped up. I idly wondered what it would be like to skate again, then wondered if I could still do it, then longed for an excuse to try it again. No adults were skating at this point, but as soon as I saw a few teachers and parents drift over to the skate rental counter, I made my move and snagged the very last pair of traditional skates in my size. I surprised myself and Maddie too. I'm no roller derby queen, but I can still go round and round.

De-personalized

I've recently read several articles on "depersonalizing" your home before selling it--the object being to let potential buyers imagine their own belongings in your home. They are supposed to be able to focus on your home, not your possessions.

Although I've been working on this for several weeks, yesterday was the big day to remove final portraits from the wall, including my favorite pictures of the girls in the entryway.

It made me really sad and I felt emotional all day long. Obviously, the personal things are what make our house our home and packing these things away make it feel so, well, depersonalized. Even though it's still our home, I can feel the tide turning toward a time when it will no longer be ours.
Many of you have asked about our progress. We are meeting with a couple of different realtors tomorrow and hope to have our house listed within the next 7-10 days. We are all decluttered and are working on painting touch-ups and last minute cleaning. I'm wondering if anyone would even notice if we abandoned our recently acquired storage unit and everything in it. In some ways, this feels like a much simpler way to live (without all our stuff).

A Moment of Loveliness

I noted this today in the book I'm reading--Gilead by Marilynne Robinson--as an old, dying father writes a memoir to his young son.

"I wish I could give you the memory I have of your mother that day. I wish I could leave you certain of the images in my mind, because they are so beautiful that I hate to think they will be extinguished when I am. Well, but again, this life has its own mortal loveliness. And memory is not strictly mortal in its nature, either. It is a strange thing, after all, to be able to return to a moment, when it can hardly be said to have any reality at all, even in its passing. A moment is such a slight thing, I mean, that its abiding is a most gracious reprieve."

I had one of those lovely mortal moments the other night when Bea snuck into our bed in the middle of the night. She quickly fell asleep nestled between Rob and me, and I was drifting off again, when suddenly Bea began to laugh in her sleep. It was a prolonged giggle of pure joy. I stayed awake a while longer, hoping to hear it again and wondering what in her dreams could make her laugh with such unrestrained delight. I will never know what tickled her so in her sleep, but I'm so glad I was there to hear it; a "gracious reprieve" indeed.

Oh No, You Can't Take That Away From Me...

I have thrown away an incredible amount of trash this week. There are heaping piles of stuff in our living room, all sorted and ready for our giant neighborhood yard sale this Saturday. My day consists of going from room to room and collecting items for the purge. Sometimes I have to dig deep, but most of it is obvious.

For years, we have harbored a largish collection of audio tapes that are locked away in cases and stashed behind the couch. A few nights ago, Rob and I agreed it was time to let them go. We rarely even open the cases. But when I finally got them out yesterday, I couldn't do it. I sorted and pruned and reduced from 3 cases to 2, but I couldn't throw our music out.


How can you throw part of your own soul away? How could you sell a piece of your personality to strangers? Here are just a few of the millions of memories linked to this box of cassette tapes:

• saving my 7th grade babysitting money to buy "Yaz" and "Book of Love" at Spanky's Records & Tapes: my first music purchase ever.
• Play. pause. rewind. play. pause: this is how we got the lyrics to our favorite songs--listening intently and writing them down. None of this internet search stuff.
• the day Rob showed up at my dorm with his entire dual-recording stereo system loaded into a huge Jansport pack. We made our first (and only) mix tape. I still love it (and him).
• making tapes for Rob while he was on his mission, and listening to his voice while he was so far away.
• Being introduced to "The Clash" by my Uncle Bob and Aunt Andrea. British punk rock was a revelation to me.
• going to a Depeche Mode concert (what were my parents thinking?!)

Oh yes, we're keeping these babies.

Where, oh where has my little brain gone?

Seems like I'm hard pressed to even know what day it is...I'm going to try hard not to turn this into a blog about how stressful/hard/depressing it is to move, but you've got to know it is these thoughts that weigh heavily on my mind ALL THE TIME.

Since huge amounts of brain and muscle power are now dedicated to cleaning/packing/getting the house ready to sell, I find it difficult to make even small decisions about birthday parties, weekend plans, what to have for dinner.

Last night I purposely invited a friend over for dinner so I'd be forced to come up with something more exciting than grilled cheese or cold cereal. Then I had to call another friend mid-dinner prep because I couldn't remember what to add to our pesto pasta. (Peas: yes. Ham: no. Thank you Karen!)

I fantasize about a kind, fun, wonderful and rich family who will knock on our door and offer to buy our house before it even goes on the market. Seriously, I would love them forever.

Amid all the chaos, though, I have small peaceful moments where I feel like I get just a small heavenly pat on the back and a whispered, "You will be okay. You can do this." Those moments keep me going. I had a big one on Saturday, running an 8k race with my friend, Kim. It was a great race, I made good time, and it was the first race where I really felt like a true runner. (After 3 years...finally!) But I was truly, fully happy for about 15 minutes (before it got hard) and I was grateful for that.

My little mustard seed

If you haven't heard our news, read here first. Then come back and I'll tell you how I feel about it.

I haven't exactly been a supportive, encouraging wife on this whole job application to Georgia thing. It wasn't what I had in mind, wasn't the timetable I'd imagined. I'm seriously working my way through the 5 stages of grief--I've passed denial, anger, bargaining, and now hover between depression and acceptance. It was a hard move here for me and I've realized it will be a hard move away.
In all my prayers and all my longing for assurances that this is the right thing, the one sure answer I've received is this: Trust in the Lord. General Conference was going on the weekend we had to make our decision, and I didn't get the answer I was seeking, but I was reminded of a few important things. Namely that I'm not alone in this and that I need my faith to be more powerful than my fears.

"Things work out, it isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out, don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. If we will put our trust in him, if we will pray to him, if we will live worthy of his blessings, he will hear our prayers."
Gordon B. Hinckley

"If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you." (Matthew 17:20)




"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." (Proverbs 3:5-6)

Young and Old on Wednesday

Today Bea got a book at the library called "Am I Big or Little?" The mom says, "You're little enough to _______" and the girl says, "But I'm big enough to ________". I've been having similar thoughts all week about my age as I creep uncomfortably closer to 40. Am I young or am I old?



I've made peace--even friends--with my brown curly hair just when it's starting to turn gray and thin. Am I too old to grow it long one last time?

I'm determined to beat my weight into submission, but the stretch marks and crow's feet are here to stay. I'm working on the conviction that healthy can be even more beautiful than young.

I love to exercise on the wii fit--the only video game I've ever done well on--because my virtual age is always younger than my real age!

Am I happy? (yes)
Do I feel fulfilled? (mostly)
Do I have meaningful relationships in my life? (yes)
Am I a good mother? (I think I'm okay, but complaints around here often say otherwise. It's easy to lose confidence.)
Do I have any major regrets in life? (no)
Do I have a testimony and faith? (yes)

So far so good. I think I will pursue another year.

from my girls:
Sarah Jane: Mom is old enough to cook her own meals, but young enough not to be a grandma.
Eloise: Mom is old enough to know a lot but young enough to still learn from her daughters :) .
Maddie: Mom is old enough to yell at me, but young enough to go shopping with me.

Lucky Irish heirloom recipes

On several different years, I've tried making corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick's Day. It just never turns out how I think it should and every time I ask myself why I feel compelled to make this traditional Irish dish. We're not Irish. I don't buy green candy or decorate with shamrocks. I do wear green, but just because it's funny to wonder if someone besides my kids would pinch me for not wearing green. :)

Today I decided to try a new tradition--Irish beef stew--by using our favorite stew recipe (and just calling it 'Irish'). I gathered all the ingredients and pulled out the crockpot, but when I went to get the recipe, it was nowhere to be found. I've made it many times, but apparently didn't put the card back last time. I called my mother-in-law, who first gave me the recipe. When I couldn't reach her, I made my way through several sisters-in-law, and then to my own mother. Each woman gave me a different recipe, and I had no luck finding a similar recipe online. So I made it according to memory, knowing full well I was missing ingredients and amounts. We haven't tasted it yet, but I wonder if anyone will say, "This doesn't taste the same...."

It made me think about recipes and how they get passed on, changed, adopted as our own. I would seriously consider rescuing my cookbooks if our house was burning down. I've realized today that there are thousands of beef stew recipes, but only one that is our family's favorite. It made me think of a dear friend whose mother has passed away and one of my friend's biggest regrets is that she didn't write down all of her mother's best recipes and the changes she made.

I like trying new recipes, but I'm trying to compile a 'best of' and would be happy to share it once I get organized (check back in a few years!). I have made MANY pots of minestrone, but always come back to my mom's. Her cream pies are the BEST, too. But I don't use her roll recipe (I use the Lion House recipe) and obviously, we inherited a wonderful beef stew recipe from Rob's side. If I get lucky and find it soon, I'll post it here.