Category Archives: history

Powerful Flavors and Memories

family, food and cooking, history, , ,

This afternoon Mr. Glad and I shopped for a pewter cup for our newest grandchild. My in-laws gave each of our children one when they were babies, and we’ve carried on the tradition with our grandchildren. After we made our choice of cup style and engraved letters, we wandered around the fancy stationery/gift store browsing expensive Christmas ornaments, multiple versions of Carl Larsson calendars, and ball-point pens.

Then back to the parking garage, through balmy evening air, so odd and dreamy. We were reluctant to go home to our wintry house, and briefly considered buying food downtown. Passing an outdoor cafe, my husband said, “Nice dog,” and I looked at the greyhound sitting there by a table and smiled behind me at him while I kept walking. Then, “Gretchen?” I heard, from the dining area, and I saw a woman getting up and coming toward me. I had already recognized her voice, though I hadn’t heard it for almost 20 years. E. is mother to two children who were among my day-care clients way back, my children’s friends, decorators of my walls and place-holders in my heart.

I have often wanted to get together to talk about those old times, and find out how the now-grown-up children are, and send them my love. Just this week I was thinking of one time when the mom needed to talk privately to me. We had to take chairs to a back bedroom and sit there in the middle of what looked like a hurricane disaster zone. Probably all the children were outdoors at the time finding polliwogs or on some other neighborhood adventure such as you can see in this photo. Her two children are among the ones pictured.

It turns out she has moved to another state, and is only visiting here briefly. Thank you, Lord, for arranging this meeting! We exchanged our info, so I hope we can talk later.

As we drove toward home and came near this market, we agreed to stop in. I took the picture in the daylight once, but tonight in the dark I could see it was still open. We went in and were greeted by a pervading fish sauce smell. I like it well in my Thai dishes, but filling the store–not much. I was trying to just pick up one item and get out of there, get home to cook, but it is another place that keeps you looking at all the many fascinating things you don’t end up buying.

I saw the bags of MSG, giant rice papers, rice crackers and twenty types of noodles in cellophane packages. But I snatched up my tapioca flour and we skipped over the other inviting aisles to the produce section. There are usually some very nice vegetable offerings, and we carried a couple of them up front and waited meekly behind the person checking out.

“If you drink Red Bull, you have got to know this is the original stuff!” A tall man with long pale kinky hair had come up behind and was waving some brown bottles.  “Whenever I can, I come in here and buy this–it’s way better than Red Bull! Much more powerful, and cheaper, too!” He smiled broadly in his excitement to share his discovery with us, revealing black holes where teeth must once have been.

So thrilled, he didn’t notice our laden arms, and stepped forward to put his brown tonic bottles on the counter and pay. It didn’t take long before he was striding out. As the cashier tallied our purchases I said, “I don’t think he needs any Red Bull, Asian or otherwise.”

Today I went through my back stock of spices and herbs, sorting and consolidating and putting many little bottles and bags aside for my daughters. Another thing of my past, after the day care business, was the food co-op business, and in the years when I had hundreds of pounds of rice, flour, yogurt and teabags piled in my garage every month or two, I found that I could buy a pound of spice for the same cost as 2 2-oz bottles.

Most of the time these flavorings came in foil bags that preserve the freshness very well. Often four or eight of us would split a pound. If, as the experts would tell me, the potency was diminished over time, why, I could just throw in a bit more of the oregano or whatever. Today, though, I threw quite a bit out, into the garden. I don’t make 20-quart pots of soup anymore, and some of the herbs, especially, had lost all their savor.

Soon I’ll share a recipe that helps me use many different spices, and a lot of them, at one time. This is a sneak preview.

Costumes of a Cloud of Witnesses

church, crafts, family, history, , ,

This month of Halloween, I’ve heard on the blogosphere many comments about how much fun it is to dress up, and when do you ever get to do that, if not on Halloween?

I want to show by some pictures that you can make plenty of opportunities for costume-making and wearing, while pretty much ignoring Halloween.

You can have a costume party, plain and simple, as a young woman I know does yearly. One year several pirates attended.

We had at least one birthday party that was a costume party. I asked the parents not to send the children in Halloween themes, and one came as a witch anyway, but it didn’t detract from the fun the other children had impersonating a bunny or Bo-Peep. The cowgirl was the guest of honor.

Along with a few other homeschooling families, we used to organize International Meals periodically, where each parent and child attending would not only bring a typical dish of his chosen nation, and give a brief report on that country, but would dress in an often makeshift costume.

< This brother and sister were representing Scotland.

Our most inspiring costume event, though, was the yearly Cloud of Witnesses Day. This was my invention that expanded on Reformation Day festivities held by some fellow homeschoolers. October 31st happens to be the date that Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses on the Wittenburg door, so dressing up as Reformation characters was a very appropriate and educational activity.

Even then I didn’t take to the idea of narrowing our study of our forefathers and mothers in the faith to that particular era and group of Christians, so I devised a celebration of the “cloud of witnesses” mentioned in the Book of Hebrews.

The guests, often other homeschooling families, including the adults, would come in costume of someone from the past, even recent past, who had lived a life of faith. They might be in the Bible or in more modern history. (This is Joseph in his “coat of many colors,” a.k.a. his father’s childhood bathrobe.)                                                                          >

We enjoyed a simple meal of soup and bread together, while remembering those in prison for their faith. Reports were given on the characters each had chosen. Miriam, pictured here, was able to say, “I am Miriam. I take care of my baby brother Moses.” Joseph was excused from having to give a report.

Over the years we had re-enactments of Bible stories in which each member of one family would take a character, as in “The Macedonian call” story. Once a couple of parents took on the characters of Martin and Katharine Luther; Martin expounded on his theology and Katharine on the more practical aspects of their married life. One boy made a wig with cotton balls so he could look more like Johann Sebastian Bach.

I worked symbolism into all the evening’s activities, such as milk and honey to remind us of the sweetness of Christ. Justin Martyr, at left, had tea with his cookies instead, at the end of the program.

Everyone held candles ( an unusual treat for our Protestant children) while we sang hymns and songs about the Church and how our lights and strength combined are brighter and more powerful than alone.

It’s obvious in hindsight that in all my talk of the theoretical “universal” church, and wanting us to see ourselves as part of the historic family of faith, I was longing for the Orthodox Church and didn’t know it. Even so, everyone had a great time learning a little better what the Church is, by having this costume fun together.

Belonging to the Whole Thing.

church, history, icons,


I could not stop watching slide shows of the arrival of the Kursk-root icon in Russia, and the procession with it a few days later.

The icon was originally found near Kursk several centuries ago. It belongs to the Russian church abroad, and its home is currently in the U.S.A.

Why? Who cares? some people asked me. What have I got to do with Russians making an incredible fuss over this antique, as it seems? You can see from the pictures here, a very few of the riveting images on the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia website, that thousands did go to extreme effort to honor it and be near it.

I wanted to write something very illuminating for those of you who might ask these questions. But in making the attempt, I realized how much a beginner and a child I am; I am still learning the answers to these questions myself. But I am learning by belonging and growing up here, in the Church, which is also there in Kursk. Those are my people.

I don’t stare at the faces and the churches because I am trying to figure out the answers, but out of love for my Church and Church family, and extreme thankfulness that I belong to Christ and His Church, where we are taught to love His mother. Not a theoretical church of individuals who argue theology, but a living and present people who are learning theology by worshiping together. A great force, the army of God’s love, the throng of needy souls who have found the Source of everything.

It’s good to be home.