Simple Pleasures

“So, Mom, what do you and Dad want for Christmas?”

I didn’t have to think long. We live in an old house with no insulation. The floors are cold in the winter. I want a pair of warm, fuzzy socks. And I didn’t even have to ask my husband what he wanted. Several years ago this daughter gave him what he thought was the perfect gift, and he asks for the same thing from her every year -- a pair of over-the-calf socks.

Some of my best memories revolve around said feet-covers. When we’d only been married a few years, one of my husband’s professors invited us to a Japanese restaurant. We had no idea we’d be asked to kick our shoes off at the door. We’re originally from Texas, and my husband wore cowboy boots during his big-belt-buckle stage. Imagine my chagrin when he kicked off his boots only to reveal he was wearing one yellow sock and one blue one. “Who cares what color socks you wear with boots?” he asked, and besides, he said, he probably had another pair at home just like them.

Only if you’re the creative, never-throw-anything-away type might you know this: the ribbing on a colorful child’s sock without a mate makes a great Barbie dress if the sock is small enough in diameter. The end of a larger single sock makes a great hat for a stuffed animal. Just cut off about 3 inches of sock from the toe and roll the cut edge. My husband saves old socks for rags, but then he saves almost every discarded cloth item for his rag bag. That creative, never-throw-anything-away syndrome may be catching.

Author Leo Buscaglio once told a story about a woman who gave a friend a tour through her new house. The friend was a little embarrassed for the new home owner when she saw a pair of dirty socks on the floor on the husband’s side of the bed. She was surprised by the wife’s reaction.

“Isn’t that cute,” the wife said, “the way he leaves his dirty socks on the floor?” Maybe Buscaglio said it, or maybe it was just the inference I made, but what’s the big deal about dirty socks left on the floor when some day the wearer of those socks might walk out of the house and never come back? Life is fragile and fleeting.

“Mom, when are you coming to visit?” our daughter also asked recently. “Our basket of unmatched socks is overflowing.” She must be remembering our visit a year-and-a-half ago when I tried to find something to do to be useful.

So I’m writing my daughter back. “For Christmas, your dad and I would like socks,” I’ll say. “A pair of warm fuzzy ones for me, a pair of over-the-calf ones for Dad.” We’re depending on her to keep us in socks in our old age. And if we ever move into a nursing home close to her family, maybe she’ll bring along a basket of socks for me to match on one of her visits. Why waste all those years of experience?

I’ve read that old socks make good dust clothes. Just put the sock on your hand and polish away. I hadn’t thought about it till now, but old socks would also make good floor cleaners. I should probably go through my husband’s rag bag now and find some good ones. I’ve noticed how easily the six-year-old’s new white socks pick up dirt on my wood floors when she comes to visit. Can’t you see me, a grandmother, skating across the floor trying to polish it? Or maybe I can offer the grandchildren “skating lessons” for Christmas. Idea. No sense soiling my Christmas present.

(Posted 12-11-11 at http://freehelp.ws/Sense/LetterCb/page1.html)

Happy Birthday, Jesus! And Other Things I Can't Say

Quick: What are these dates? May 20, July 24, October 10. For me, these dates mark the birth of people I know and love. Betty, Barbara and Carolyn all have their birth dates circled on my calendar.

Now if I want to send them a card, buy them a gift or call them on their special day, no one gets bent out of shape. There are no Betty-haters out there as far as I know. I mean, come on. The woman is a saint. You wouldn’t believe the things she’s had to put up with in life, but she meets life head-on with optimism and grit.

But if I want to remember Jesus’ birthday, that’s another story. If I want to say “Merry Christmas,” I might get a little flak. “Happy Holidays” is preferred by some, or for those in education, “Happy Winter Break.” A few years ago I remember feeling totally intimidated saying “Merry Christmas.” Thankfully, the atmosphere changed.

Are you familiar with Jenny Joseph’s poem, “Warning: When I Am an Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple”? Google it if you’re not. Ah, the beauty of older age: imagine, a woman eating sausages and spitting on the sidewalk. The subject of this poem is my heroine.

So I if break away from the politically correct pack, just mark it up to aging. If someone takes away my right to say “Merry Christmas,” I may not remember I’m not supposed to say it, and I might say it anyway.

Until I am truly golden, if Christmas should ever be banned, that’s okay. I’m not much of a material girl anyway. What? Not go to the mall or shop on-line? I’ll just say “Happy Birthday, Jesus!” and celebrate with dessert. And a tree. And lights, camera, action! Candles! Stories! Hugs! Laughter! Greeting cards! Family traditions! Friends and family! I’ll throw a big party in honor of His birth. And who knows? We might even exchange homemade presents.

Call me crazy. If I can celebrate the births of my friends Betty, Barbara and Carolyn, and if we can celebrate special days to honor the births of dead presidents and Kings, (Abe, George, and Martin Luther, Jr.), then surely I should be allowed to celebrate the birth of my friend Jesus, the King of Kings.

It’s only fair. We don’t want to be accused of discrimination, do we? The party is at my house December 25th. Mark it on your calendar. Come on over.

posted 12/04/11 at http://freehelp.ws/Sense/LetterC4/page1.html

Black Friday Musings on Thanksgiving Left-Overs

Once again I proved one of my basic beliefs: Don’t ever throw anything out. If you do, you’ll need it. Sure enough, last night I wished for all those empty Cool-Whip containers and butter tubs I tossed when I was on a cleaning jag this week.

I had been cleaning because my daughter’s family and a friend of hers were coming to our house on Thursday for Thanksgiving dinner. I know. Thanksgiving for me was supposed to be at Nanny’s on Saturday. It still is. Tomorrow at 2:00 we’ll pack up our trusty Honda and drive an hour to have turkey and all the trimmings again. Well, at least the trimmings. Our turkey yesterday wasn’t a turkey. My daughter had been given some chickens. When our plans changed to include a Thanksgiving dinner on Thanksgiving day at our house, my daughter said don’t worry about buying a turkey. She’s bring a chicken.

I did a head count. There would be eight of us. “Are you sure one chicken will be enough?”

“For eight people?” she asked. “Sure.”

Okay, I thought. My husband wouldn’t be eating chicken. I’d have one piece. The six-year-old didn’t eat much. Maybe one chicken would be enough. At least, there wouldn’t be left-overs.

The eight people ended up being six. The oldest grandchild spent the day with her boyfriend’s family. The young woman and 3-year-old my daughter planned to bring for supper didn’t come with her, but another friend did. I’m not sure if he was our daughter’s date or the 6 year-old’s play buddy. He moved back and forth between playing computer games with the kindergartener and joining my husband in front of the TV to watch the Cowboys’ and Ravens’ games.

When my daughter called at 2:00 yesterday to say they’d be here early, I was glad I cleaned before I cooked. I could always tear open the Stove Top box and open the jar of turkey gravy after she got here.

When she called at 3:00 to say they might be a little longer, they had to bury the cat, I was a little relieved. I mean, I was sad for the kids about the family pet, but I still had time to mop the bathroom floor.

When they got here at 4:30, we took the green bean casserole and the sweet potato casserole out of the oven so I could put her chicken in. I was surprised the chicken was still in the plastic wrapper. I probably misunderstood. I thought she told me when she called earlier she was going to take the chicken out of the oven and finish cooking it here.

I was also surprised the chicken wasn’t a chicken but an 8-pound roaster. “It’ll only take about an hour to cook,” my daughter said. I read the instructions on the package. For 6-8 pounds, bake 2 to 2 ½ hours at 350 degrees. My math skills kicked in. Our 5:00 meal wouldn’t be ready until 6:30 or 7:00.

When we finally sat down, all six of us, I realized I had way too much food. I cooked sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, dressing and gravy, and Uncle Bubba’s famous sweet pickles to go with our 8-pound chicken. I forgot to cook the spinach. My husband had cut up a fresh pineapple. I opened a can of Hoppin’ John beans for him for protein and a can of cranberry sauce. My daughter’s friend brought along two large pans of mac and cheese. We barely made a dent in one of them. And then there were pies.

I sent all the left-overs home with my daughter except for a single serving of sweet potato casserole and a healthy side of pickles. The bird and the dressing went home with her in zip-lock bags since I was fresh out of butter tubs.

Before they left, the grandkids gave us, at their mother’s prompting, a list of seven things each they were thankful for. I had my own list, some of which I didn’t care to share. I’m thankful I got my house clean. It looks nice and will for a minute or two until life happens. Hot and cold running water gets a daily Thank-you, God. I feel like a grunge if I can’t wash my hair on a daily basis. I’m also thankful for my eyesight, a husband with the patience of Job, and the fact that I don’t have to rule the world. I’m not very good at managing my small part of the universe. Since I feel so much better, I’m thankful for our new diet. I really have lost the taste for meat and for sugar. And finally, I am thankful we didn’t cook two “chickens.” I’d never live that down with my daughter.
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Here it is, 7:30 a.m. Friday after Thanksgiving. Although I’ve only been shopping once on Black Friday—I think it was 2008—and there’s absolutely nothing I want or need, the sound of cars whizzing by our house in pursuit of the perfect gift calls to me. Come buy. Come shop. Bring cash or plastic.

I have all day and nothing to clean and no visiting grandchildren. Maybe I’ll take a quick shower and hit the road. Who doesn’t like a good sale? Besides, isn’t it my patriotic duty to support the economy?

Bah, Humbug! And Other Seasonal Sentiments

What’s your favorite holiday? For my husband and me, it’s Thanksgiving. I love having every one poke their feet under our table while someone carves the turkey and someone else passes the Best Ever Sweet Potato Casserole. Thanksgiving comes without the pressure Christmas brings. The only thing my husband hates about Christmas is the gift-buying, the gift-wrapping, the gift- receiving, and the gift-returning—all in the name of our Lord.

But not everyone looks forward to holidays. Some have faced loss through the year. Holidays bring reminder of missing family members, lost jobs, lost homes. I’ve had a few Christmases where it was a struggle to put up a tree, even when the kids were at home.

In life there’s change, some welcome, and some not. The first year our youngest daughter said she wanted to have Thanksgiving at her house, I was at a loss. What? I wouldn’t be cooking the turkey? For over thirty years I always cooked the turkey, and I always made the corn bread dressing by my mother-in-law’s recipe. Instead, we’d be having stuffing from a box and gravy from a jar. But I’m a quick learner. My favorite stuffing recipe now is Stove Top.

This year the Thanksgiving meal for our family isn’t going to be at our house or our daughter’s or even on Thursday although I already bought a turkey. I also bought two of the boxes and two of the jars. Then our youngest called to say her oldest child’s other grandparents had invited them for Thanksgiving meal on Saturday, and we were invited if we wanted to come.

Thanksgiving at Nanny’s? And on Saturday? I don’t have to clean house, cook, and clean up? Why not?

The difference is attitude. Big Deals often aren’t so big. But some things are indeed, like losing a family member or facing foreclosure.

This is the year my husband started his whole-foods, plant-based diet, so there are a lot of positives about having Thanksgiving dinner at someone else’s house. I don’t have to try to find a home for the left-over turkey he won’t be eating. Our granddaughter said I’d need to cook green bean casserole to bring for Papa so he’d have something to eat. Knowing my husband, he’ll probably cook up something delicious to take, like sliced Brussel sprouts stir-fried in just the smallest amount of oil, lightly salted, seasoned with orange juice and zest and sprinkled with toasted walnuts. Yum!

Happy Thanksgiving! And don’t forget to give thanks. A grateful heart gives you joy and blesses others.
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My contribution to Thanksgiving on Saturday at Nanny’s:

Roasted Cauliflower with Red Peppers
serves 6

1 head medium cauliflower, about 2 pounds, cut into 3/4-inch pieces
1 large red pepper cut into thin strips
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F.
In large bowl, toss cauliflower, red pepper, garlic, and oil until evenly coated. Salt and pepper. Arrange vegetables in single layer on a cookie sheet. Roast vegetables 20 minutes or until tender.

Protein Sources for a Plant-Based Diet

When my husband and I began our journey on a plant-based diet, we weren't sure what protein sources there were besides beans. We knew about tofu, but not tempeh or seitan. Here is a brief explanation with simple recipes:

Tofu, a staple in vegetarian cooking, is also called bean curd. To make a simple lunch of mock egg salad from this high protein, soy product, mash tofu, add lo-fat or vegan mayonnaise and season salt—or season tofu with salt and pepper, chopped celery, sweet pickle relish, celery seed and/or turmeric. Serve on whole grain bread.

Tempeh, also made from soybeans, is a fermented product made from soybeans alone or a combination of soybeans and other beans and grains. Tempeh has a crunchy texture and nutty flavor. Tempeh can be fried, sauteed, or baked. A flavorful sandwich is barbequed tempeh. Crumble 8 oz. tempeh and marinate in 1 cup barbeque sauce. Chop and saute 1 onion, 1 red pepper and 1 green pepper. Add barbeque mixture and heat through.

Seitan, also called wheat meat or wheat gluten, is the base for many mock meat products. A 2 ½ ounce serving has 70 calories and 12 grams of protein. Because of its high protein content and meaty texture, seitan is used as a meat substitute. While tofu and tempeh are sold in most grocery stores, seitan can be purchased in health food stores or made at home. http://vegetarian.about.com/od/cookingtipstools/ss/HowToSeitan.htm. Seitan freezes well.

A Community Program to Watch

If you were arrested for a non-violent offense, would you rather go to jail and pay a fine or go to church every Sunday for a year? That's the choice Bay Minette, Alabama's city judge will offer misdemeanor offenders beginning next week as part of Operation Restore Our Community (ROC).

Police Chief Michael Rowland says it costs $75 per inmate per day to house offenders. "Longevity is a key," he says. "30-day drug programs don't work, and 30-day alcohol programs don't work, but long-term programs do." Offenders can choose the church they attend, and 56 area churches have signed up to participate. Offenders who choose church attendance over incarceration will be required to check in with the pastor every week and the police department. After a year of church attendance, charges will be dropped.

Pastor Robert Gates says, "You show me somebody who falls in love with Jesus, and I'll show you a person who won't be a problem in society but will be an influence and a help to those around them." ROC is a way to cut jail costs, rehabilitate offenders and turn lives around.

Here's to Your Health

Five months ago my husband told me he wanted to go on a plant-based, whole foods diet. I know how hard it is to try to diet by yourself, so I ate what I cooked for him. I didn't know at the time he'd been having chest pains.

It seems he had read The China Study: Startling Implications for Diet, Weight Loss and Long-Term Health, by T. Colin Campbell, PhD, and Thomas M. Campbell II, MD. The authors quoted studies in which heart disease, diabetes, and some cancers were prevented and/or reversed through eating a plant-based,whole foods diet.

Since the time five months ago we switched from eating meat, poultry, fish, eggs, dairy, sugar, and added fats, my husband has lost 10% of his body weight, is in a normal BMI range, and he's been able to stop taking his blood pressure medication because his blood pressure is now normal. He no longer has chest pains. I, too, have seen positive results from eating a plant-based diet. I have so much more energy and have been able to focus on and complete projects long neglected. I've also lost weight.

During these five months, my husband has been faithful to follow the diet. I've been faithful maybe 75% of the time. I certainly feel better and am more productive. I'm sure my health is better than it was before we started eating beans, tofu, whole grains, fruits, vegetables and nuts, but I'm not 100%. I still eat peanut butter and nuts. I still use oil for stir-fry. I'll order chicken or fish or bacon and eggs during the rare times I eat out with friends.

Yesterday I checked out a copy of Prevent and Reverse Heart Disease, by Caldwell B. Esselstyn, Jr., MD, motivation I've needed to more completely change my ways. Dr. Esselstyn is featured in the CNN special above, "The Last Heart Attack." I want to live in good health and be productive. I want to prevent and/or reverse heart disease, diabetes, and cancer. I have a chance to do that by changing the way I eat. That seems like a good trade-off.

Yours for improved health --