Morning Ramble

I can not remember where I got this picture.
If it is yours please let me know.

Autumn burst forth in all her glory several weeks ago, but this morning I awoke to winter nipping at her heels.  It is cold!  Of course, I can hear my northern friends laughing hardily, but with temperatures moving along in the steady upper 70's, you get complacent.

This morning I awoke to a decidedly chilly morning, sending us all into a mad search for warmer jackets and 'real' shoes.  Yes, my daughter had to pack away her Toms!  I must admit to it being a happy day for me...I don't like Toms.  I thinking the company's intentions are wonderful, "With every pair you purchase, Toms will give a pair of new shoes to a child in need. One for one."  Great idea!  The problem?  I don't find them attractive or well-made.  I would rather buy attractive, well-made shoes and write a check for charity.  I know, I know, lots of people disagree with me... Before you ask, no, I did not buy my daughters shoes;  she bought them with babysitting money.  Okay, back to this morning... The sudden change in weather caught me unawares and put more stress on our already stressful mornings.

Without fail my alarm clock sounds at 5:30 every week day.  Quickly dressing, I make my way downstairs to prepare my morning coffee and to feed Miss Kitty.  I have 30 minutes of quiet to meet with God  before the day starts racing forth.  I cherish this peaceful time for I know that it is short lived.

By 6 o'clock the whirlwind morning routine has started.  My youngest, Hayden, is my first to awaken; his bus arrives at 7 a.m. and he is not a morning person :) A warm breakfast of cranberry-walnut oatmeal is ate, while I busily pack lunches, sign school planners, and find the missing permission slip.  I vow an oath beneath my breath to be more organized, but all too soon the big yellow bus is at the corner and out the front door he runs.  I always stand at the window and say a little prayer as he leaves...the same prayer I say as each of my children leave in the morning.

My oldest, Paine, is the next up, followed by Madeline, and the routine with each varies greatly... Paine doesn't like breakfast, can never find his 'A' day backpack, buys his lunch at school, and catches a ride with friends.  Madeline will only have toast for breakfast, is incredibly organized, will never buy lunch at school, and , begrudgingly, rides the bus. Yet, not a one leaves my home without hearing "I love you, have a great day!"  But, more importantly, they get their morning prayer as they walk away.

"Watch over thy child, O Lord, 

as his days increase,

may he increase in wisdom, stature, and in favor with both God and man.  

Through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen."

Birthday Celebrations

Tuesday was my birthday. 

 Tuesday, October 11, was a big birthday.  

Tuesday, October 11, was my 40th birthday....

I can't believe it myself! I think I'm going to like being able to say, "Well, now that I'm 40..." or "I'm 40 years old, I don't have to put up with this stuff..." 

40 is an adult. 

40 is a woman. 

40 is finding your stride. 

 Yes, I think I'm going to like this.

In honor of my mile-stone birthday I made a little bit of heaven ... Enjoy!

Ginger Cake with Lemon Icing

Ginger Cake with Lemon Icing

1/2 cup unsalted butter

1/2 cup brown sugar

3/4 cup light corn syrup

3/4 cup dark molasses

3 tsp. fresh ginger, finely grated

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1 cup milk

2 large eggs, beaten

1 tsp. baking soda, dissolved in 2 Tbsp. of warm water

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  In a medium saucepan, melt butter along with sugar, syrup, molasses, 

ginger, and cinnamon.  Once butter has melted and all ingredients are well incorporated,

 remove from heat and add milk, eggs, and baking soda in it's water.

Measure flour into a large mixing bowl and pour in liquid ingredients; beating very well 

(this is a very liquid batter).  Pour batter into a  9"x13" pan that has been lightly greased and floured.

Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until risen and firm.  Be careful not to over cook, as it is nicer when it is a bit sticky.  Cool on a wire rack.  Ice with Lemon Icing

Lemon Icing

(I prefer a very tart lemon flavor and the following recipe reflects that, but please adjust 

lemon rind and lemon juice to suit your personal taste)

Finely grated rind of 2 lemons

Juice of 2 lemons (told you I liked it tart!)

6 Tbsp. butter, softened

2 Tbsp. water (if needed)

6 cups of confectioners sugar

Cream butter with a 1 cup of the confectioners sugar.  Add grated lemon rind 

and lemon juice.  Continue adding confectioners sugar, one cup at a time,

 until reach desired consistency. 

 A bit of water may be added if  it gets too thick.

When The Frost is on the Punkin

by James Whitcomb Riley (1853-1916)

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,

And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,

And the clackin’ of the guineys and the cluckin’ of the hens,

And the rooster’s hallylooyer as her tiptoes on the fence;

O, it’s then the time a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,

With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,

As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere

When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here–

Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,

And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;

But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days

Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock–

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,

And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;

The stubble in the furries–kindo’ lonesome-like, but still

A preachin’ sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;

The strawstack in the medder and the reaper in the shed;

The hosses in theyr stalls below–the clover overhead!–

O, it sets my hart a-clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

Then your apples all is gethered, and teh ones a feller keeps

Is poured around teh cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;

And your cider-makin’s over, and your wimmern-folks is through

With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!…

I don’t know how to tell it–but ef such a thing could be

As the angels wantin’ boardin’, and they’d call around on me–

I’d want to ‘commodate ‘em–all the whole-indurin’ flock–

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.