a little good news...

2010-03-04T09:24:00.000-08:00

My #1 Parenting Success Story!

The day I saw my 17 year old son, Jared, standing at the refrigerator drinking out of a carton...I was shocked. Drinking out of a carton is an old unsanitary custom passed down through time immemorial from my husband's side of the family, and I've grown used to it.

What shocked me was the kid was drinking BUTTERMILK!

That was the day I knew for certain that my method of child feeding had worked. Jared, the child who had despised the entire concept of buttermilk was now enjoying it. He stood there smiling his buttermilk smile, and lied through his teeth when he said, "Mom, I've always liked buttermilk."

This is the back story: When Jared and our daughter Megan were little we'd lived in both California and Hawaii, where there are several types of ethnic foods available. Added to that, my husband's family (the carton drinkers) are Armenian, and among our best friends were Japanese, Filipinos, and a Mexican/Polish couple, so almost every social occasion was a new gastronomic experience. Ever tried Polish Meatball Enchiladas?

When I could tell they didn't want to try a food, or had tasted something they didn't like, we'd talk about it later and I had a little speech that went something like this:

"Oh, you don't like that food yet...well I'm not surprised. It just means your taste buds haven't grown up enough yet to be happy with that taste. Don't worry just take a little taste of it now and then, and someday...when your taste buds have matured, you'll know it because that food will suddenly taste wonderful."

Even at a very young are my children were smart enough not to swallow that line and they'd say, "What do you mean my taste buds aren't grown up enough?"

I'd do on something like this..."Well you know that little babies start with milk for several months, and then later to mashed bananas and then finally to wonderful strained spinach?

At this point they'd be sitting there with fingers stuck down their throats. (Universal sign language for "Gag Me")

But with time and repetition, they actually believed me...could Mom lie? The secret to pulling this off is not to make a big deal about it, just repeat it as fact now and then, and be true to your word and encourage them to eat just one bite as an experiment to test the current maturity level of their taste buds.

Some time later I overheard Jared say to a friend who said he hated guacamole, "That's just because your taste buds are still imature."
And the beat goes on............

Start early if possible, but I've tried this ploy on a few grown-ups, and at least one of them tried a bite of dreaded eggplant casserole. Then he looked off into space for a moment as if testing his enjoyment level just before he spit it into his napkin. Probably did him good to realize he's not as grown up as he thinks he is.

The only other child-rearing trick I know has to do with Rice Krispies...but that's a little good news for another day.

2009-11-28T06:10:00.000-08:00

Christmas Worst

In 1963 my worst Christmas began the day my four-year-old daughter went to spend the holiday with my ex-husband. He picked her up on the twenty-third and I hated to see her go. Watching her enjoy Christmas WAS my Christmas.

The next day, Christmas Eve, we learned that a friend who was nine months pregnant had just learned that her child had died in utero. That afternoon my husband and I drove to my parents house in silence. The overcast sky and bleak coastal foothills matched my mood. All my husband's attempts at conversation dropped and rolled around

on the floorboards of our little car.

Mom greeted us at the door with smiles and her famous oatmeal cookies filled with spices, nuts and raisens; but as she stood at the stove later warming the apple cider she told me that one of my favorite teachers from high school had committed suicide that morning. I felt a cold chill that an ocean of warm cider could not cure.

There I sat, in my warm childhood home, with people who loved me, but the events of that day only compounded my sadness at being separated from my little daughter. And it was all so much worse because it was happening at Christmas.

While the joys of the season are boundless, the sorrows seem multiplied as well. I cried for those who would forever associate this Holy Day, with such shattering losses.

For someone you know this Christmas may be their Christmas Worst. There are many Holiday projects out there, join one this year. Give a warm coat, bake a pie, purchase a toy or a blanket, bake some bread for your neighbor.

Are you still waiting for a litle good news ? Well my forecast for this year is that Christmas will be remarkable, even though it may not be perfect. If you listen and watch closely you'll find evidence of the exhuberance of the season sweeping into your

heart in the most unlikely places.

A few days ago, at the Dollar Store, a little boy about eight years old was wheeling up and down the aisles in a very permanent looking wheel chair. No parents in sight.

As he rounded the corner I glimpsed a cowlick, a very mischievous smile and heard him singing at the very top of his little lungs,

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly.........................."

Christmas Love, Kay

2009-09-11T09:03:00.000-07:00

Time after Time..............

Time after time

I tell myself that I'm

So lucky to be loving you

So lucky to be

The one you run to see

In the evening,

when the day is through

I only know what I know

The passing years will show

You've kept my love so young,

So new

And time after time

You'll hear me say that I'm

So lucky to be loving you

This song of the sixties always makes me cry. It was featured in the movie "Julie and Julia" and yes, I cried....again. But there is a passionate and wonderful reason for my tears, and that's because I have the love described in this song. I have been blessed with this lifetime of love (and passion) for my husband. What an astounding gift!

His love has opened me up to be the person I was born to be. He has also been oh, so patient, and provided the realism to counter my airy-fairyness. He has integrity and I marvel at his ability in the workplace as well as in our service to our community.

This past three years after my diagnosis with Ovarian cancer there hasn't been a moment when he faltered in his care for me. I am outrageously spoiled by his loving attention, and for the first time truly realize what it might be like to be a princess.

Many times my courage to continue this fight has been at zero....but Gene has always let me know that he still wants me here by his side.

Best of all Gene stands before God with me. Together we look towards the future knowing that with HIS guidance all will be well.

2009-07-29T20:47:00.000-07:00

Book Reviews R Us....Too!!

I didn’t know it until yesterday, when I was privileged to read the author’s proofs of Runt Farm, Under New Management, and Runt Farm, Beatrice and Blossom, that I NEEDED to own a pink, long sleeved tee shirt (size XL if you’re interested) with the illustration of Beatrice looking in the cracked mirror with her skirt draped gracefully up and over her fuzzy tail. You can tell by the sublime look on her reflected face in the mirror that she is happy and content about her fluffed up, dressed up, self. I like that.

The Runt Farm book series are completely engaging books for young readers….and for their grandmothers. Not only Blossom, but the other adorable characters, like Peep (He has issues) have exciting adventures, narrow escapes and comforting warm blankies bestowed upon them…not to mention, poultices.

There are some BIG words in Runt farm…some of them real and some delightfully tossed together by the author, Amanda Lorenzo. Did you know there is such a word as rejectamenta? My spell checker surely doesn’t. The glossary in the back of each book explains and teaches the pronunciation of all the important big words and is sweet little lesson in itself. I’ve always been a big fan of glossaries.

You can watch a little video preview right here!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpWaXq43Sms

When the delightful narrative mingles close up and comfy with the incredible illustrations magic happens. I, the granny, am flung back to my childhood…..and the children? They are safe, inspired, and enchanted on Runt Farm.

2009-07-25T07:57:00.000-07:00

Changing our Names

At eighteen I could hardly wait to change my name, and gladly replaced my maiden name (Folsom, a name famous for a dam and a prison) for my 1st husband's name (Magarian, which means son of the Magyars which I thought, at the time, was very intriguing) When that marriage ended I kept the new name because of my daughter.

Then I remarried and took the last name Mickel, which I later learned is the name of the guy who comes to pull the stumps out of your field...a Mickler....not romantic or intriguing. I love the man, but the word...not so much.

When, in 1994 I'd finally gone back to college and got a degree in Anthropology from Sacramento State I found that I could choose how I wanted my name to appear on the diploma! It forced me to think about my name and the person I had become at forty-four.

I decided to rid myself of my first name, Vivian, and use my maiden name as my middle name.

I never really changed it legally, but starting with my diploma I began using it here and there and now it is even on my driver's license and passport.

My youngest sister was even more daring with her name. She started out as Marian and is now Fax! (She chose the name before the machine was invented.) The funny thing is that when she was Marian, people shortened it to Mimi, and now that she is Fax, they shorten it to Faxie.

Our Faxie is an accomplished photographer....you can see her images here:http://www.betterphoto.com/gallery/gallery.asp?memberID=58718

Recently my other little sister Helen has also taken on a new persona. Helen has always been known in the family as "Little Helen" because we also had an older/bigger Aunt Helen. Helen selected Amanda from one of our grandmothers middle names, and Lorenzo which was my Grandpa L.D.s first name. As Amanda Lorenzo, Helen has taken on an amazing part-time alter-ego.

Amanda Lorenzo dresses up in swoopy white rhinstone framed glasses, crazy clothes, and my Dad's old bowler hat and she writes perfectly enchanting children's chapter books. Amanda Lorenzo has created a magical world called Runt Farm where the small creatures interact with their world and with one another in an atmosphere of charming creativity which is relevant to the present day.

As Amanda Lorenzo she is pursuing her dreams and goals; and lets Helen, the ultimate organizer, wade through the intricacies of getting published and promoting her books. Amanda Lorenzo is going for it!

Names are wrapped around us at birth like a very snug fitting receiving blanket; comforting and secure for that time. But as we grow, it is fine (at least in our family), to select a new name which reflects who we have become, a name that releases to the world our truest selves.

P.S. Look for Runt Farm in
August 2009. It's a book full of possibilities, perhaps even a movie coming to you soon, perhaps an award winner, perhaps........

P.S.S. My brother Bob has never changed his name.

Duane's Kickout

2009-07-16T18:41:00.001-07:00

Click here to view these pictures larger

2009-07-07T20:47:00.000-07:00

It's all about the flowers.

Celebrating another year of life, another year of marriage and another opportunity to vacation in Mexico. We went to the botanical gardens and it was so beautiful. Here is the evidence.

2009-06-02T17:27:00.000-07:00

Grampa L.D.

He was named Lorenzo Dow, after a circuit riding Methodist preacher, but everyone called him L.D. To me he was just Grampa.

He was a giant in my five year old eyes, with a craggy, smiling round face, white hair and a tattoo of an American eagle on his right forearm. Fortunately for me we lived right next door to Grandma and Grampa.

Grandma always expected us to toe the line, and she and I always had a rather tense relationship because one Christmas I shot her in the behind with a ping-pong gun leaving a huge bruise (she said).

But Grampa was a real softie...with one exception. He was constantly at war with the ants that attacked his outdoor sunken garbage can. It was a hole in the ground with a garbage can in it and his had a green hinged lid with a lever so you could open it to put the garbage in. He spent a lot of time out by that garbage can spraying ants with Black Flag ...not from a spray can but using one of those old fashioned hand pump sprayers.

My mom asked me once what I'd been doing outside, and I replied, "I've been out killing pissants with Grampa."

Mom bristled, "There are no such things as pissants!...only red ants or black ants."

I quickly went out to report this news to Grampa.

Grampa just laughed and said, "Sweetie, your mom is right, there are red ants and black ants....but these ants are pissants."

I loved him so much. My own Dad was too busy supporting us and living his own life, but Grampa had time for me, talked to me, rocked me, kissed away my booboos, and taught me all about pissants.

Thank God for such Grampas as I had.

2009-06-02T16:28:00.000-07:00

Goodness Grape-ness!

You don't have to be an Armenian, or love an Armenian to try a taste of sarma; grape leaves stuffed with rice. They look awful; dark jade-green cigar shaped two bite morsels, moist and shiny with a trace of olive oil. To us sarma is soul food.

My husband's Aunt Mary Paulson made scrumptious stuffed grape leaves, "borrowing" the leaves from the farmer who owned a vineyard across the street from her house. (Aunt Mary is now gone, and the vineyard is an assisted living complex.) She knew just which leaves to pick, then she'd wash them and stack them in neat piles with all the stems stacked on each other. Then these small stacks were rolled into tight bundles, tied with a thread, and gently cooked in salted water. The bundles were packed tight in a canning jar, the salted cooking water was poured in and a lemon slice was lovingly placed on the top. I learned some of this from Aunt Mary and some from a sweet Armenian lady at the cancer infusion center.

Then the jars were put through the "canning process" (which I won't go into detail about).

That was just the beginning. A way to have grape leaves for sarma available all year round

The cooked rice filling was flavored with a little salt and dill. An elongated fistful was placed near the stem edge of the leaf then rolled, tucking in the sides as she went along. Then they were carefully baked two or three layers deep in a shallow casserole dish. Left over leaves were place flat on top and then more water and a sprinkle of olive oil was added.

Then they are refrigerator and served cold.

Are you still with me. This simple, and usually quickly devoured dish, was a labor of love!

According to Aunt Mary, Armenians believe the dove sent out by Noah returned with a grape vine branch because they are the first plant to leaf out in the Spring and so logically may have been the first to leaf out after the Biblical deluge. And, after all, the Ark is supposedly buried in snow atop Mount Ararat....which used to be in Armenia.

Aside from heralding the Spring season, the grape leaf is a wonderful thing. It shades the tender grapes from the sun, and processes sunlight into the life of the plant and the world.

In it's old age the grape leaf is a thing of splendor.

One Autumn afternoon in Napa we took photo after photo of the fiery dying grape leaves. Prisms of sunlight shown through the cellophaned umbers, reds and burgundies. Elegant in their veined fragility.

Perhaps with age, we too should look forward to being more colorful, more translucent, and more able to celebrate our unique contribution to life.

I found the photo and another take on this recipe at:

http://www.all-creatures.org/recipes/grapeleaves-stuf.html

2009-05-31T20:22:00.000-07:00

sure could use a little good news today.....

This song, A Little Good News, was made popular in the 80s by Ann Murray.

I rolled out this morning

Kids had the morning’ news show on

Bryant Gumbel was talkin’ ‘bout the fighting in Lebanon

Some senator was squawkin’ ‘bout the bad economy

It’s gonna get worse you see, we need a change in policy

There's a local paper rolled up in a rubber band

One more sad story's one more than I can stand

Just once how I'd like to see the headline say

"Not much to print today, can't find nothin' bad to say," because

Nobody robbed a liquor store on the lower part of town

Nobody OD'ed, nobody burned a single buildin' down

Nobody fired a shot in anger, nobody had to die in vain

We sure could use a little good news today

I'll come home this evenin'

I'll bet that the news will be the same

Somebody takes a hostage, somebody steals a plane

How I wanna hear the anchor man talk about a county fair

And how we cleaned up the air, how everybody learned to care

Whoa, tell me

Nobody was assassinated in the whole Third World today

And in the streets of Ireland, all the children had to do was play

And everybody loves everybody in the good old USA

We sure could use a little good news today

Nobody robbed a liquor store on the lower part of town

Nobody OD'ed, nobody burned a single buildin' down

Nobody fired a shot in anger, nobody had to die in vain

We sure could use a little good news today

2002-11-27T05:19:00.000-08:00

What are you thankful for?
I'm thankful for grandsons showing up today, my warm chenille robe, toasty slippers, fresh water, my hubby snoring on the other side of the house, living in a small mountain town, having a job, and plenty of clothes to wear, hot showers, health, the tulips waiting in the ground. What are you thankful for?