Dial Up Some Comfort

    Do you have random thoughts about everyday things, that just hit you? You know… simple things, things you use and don’t take time to appreciate most of the time.

        We were farm kids on the North Dakota prairie, in an old two story, uninsulated farm house, with a big old coal furnace contraption in the basement.  Only one big metal grate in the middle of the living room floor, heated the whole two story house. That was the only heat we had in the winter.  The furnace itself was directly below the big 36”or so, grate in the center of the living room.  We opened and shut the damper, with a metal chain on the wall. That chain allowed us to get more or less heat, and if you valued your life, kids kept their hands off it! Dad would haul a couple loads of coal into the basement in the fall. Backing the truck up to the basement window, he removed the window with about ten coats of red paint on the frame.  Then he'd use the hoist on the truck to tumble the coal in the window opening.  It would thunderously empty into the window hole, into the basement. There was always some he’d have to throw in by hand and move it around in the basement to a handy spot to load or “fix the furnace”. Then they would have to keep the coal stove going all the time. It was front and foremost all day and night, every day and night. 

       The upstairs door, we called it, blocked of the second story where our bedrooms were. That door was kept shut all the time. They only opened it in the evening before bedtime so as not to lose any heat upstairs when no one was up there. A few hours before bed though, they would open the door so the heat would drift up there. It NEVER felt like any did though…we would sleep under five or six big blankets and nothing was worse that that first plunge into bed at night. Freezing cold, until you got a little nest warmed up from your body.

 

Just how cold it was is hard to explain to anybody who hasn't experienced it, or even comprehend myself anymore really, when I have been blessed with fifty years of comfort. Those days are wayyyyy in the rear view mirror! When they put houses together there are of course nail heads every so far.  Back then, (because that was before they sheet rocked and used mud over the nails), I'm not kidding when I say there was frost on all those nail heads inside our room and heavy frost, like 1/2 inch thick,  on the inside of our windows. If you talked you could see your breath! When Mom got us up in the morning, Dad had already made the cold trip downstairs and had the furnace blazing with a new coal chunk and the damper was wide open... meaning we were getting all the heat we could. Mom would hand us our clothes and we’d dress on the furnace grate. The middle round section was hot, most of the time too hot, to stand on! But the outside corners were as cold as the middle was hot, so we dressed on the cold part but kept our body parts close to the middle, turning from front to back like a burger trying to get both sides cooked ha! After we got dressed we would usually have hot cereal of something hardy for breakfast before the bus picked us up. School was seventeen miles away, but that doesn’t count all the pickups along the way to school. It took an hour and a half to get to school. 

When I was ten or so Mom and Dad got a little “oil burner” stove they put in the kitchen. That was so nice to warm our hands and feet on because the bottom actually had a blower on the bottom and was nice. Plus we could keep a tea kettle with hot water on the top of it all the time for tea or whatever we needed hot water for. 

After Dad passed away in the late sixties, Mom decided to “spruce up” the house a little bit, and the hauling of the coal was overwhelming for her. She had the old coal furnace torn out and hauled away, and a new propane furnace one with a big silver pig on the lawn to supply the gas. No more with coal dumping, now that it was just Mom, Kathy and I on the farm. That meant the big grate came out of the center of the living room floor and heat registers were put in all over the house ( still not upstairs though, we still just opened the door and let some heat up and it was still COLD). We had a nice gold thermostat on the wall now, carpet on the floor and wood paneling on the walls. We were moving up in the world as far as comfort, that was for sure! I remember loving to lay on the living room carpet with a blanket over the register. Heat filled up the blanket! What a great way to watch TV even though Mom always complained I was "hogging all the heat"! 

Today Easton had a running meet after school that was canceled due to a cold, windy day, complete with blowing dust. I did laundry and dishes and some other work but decided at 4:30 i was going to call it a day. I’ve been watching a show called New Amsterdam and I like it so much, that even though it’s extremely filled with one sided social messages that I usually bail out on… the show is so good I’ve kept on watching. I love it! As I got my drink, my phone, and settled in to watch tv… I snapped on my electric throw, one of my favorite things in the universe. I have always been extremely stiff and arthritic, so I have a couple electric shoulder throws and a nice big sheepskin throw I use every day. Most days I snap them on and think…"I love this thing” and it ends there. But today, my mind traveled to all the years when I was young and we could have only dreamed of such a luxury…a HEATED blanket!  Or an indoor toilet too, but i won't go there. What a wonderful invention!  Gratitude people, for simple every day things! Appreciate the small things because without them, they become huge things.  

God I Need A Roadmap

      Have you ever wondered, just what is the right way to worship God? I just finished watching the Hillsong documentary. I posted on Facebook about how I felt about Brian Houston (who I had never heard of). last week resigning due to many marital infidelities that were coming out and probably over this documentary too.Now there"s Carl Lentz that I hadn't heard of. It just infuriates me so much, I had to write about it. Pastors that are failing people at this level is doing immeasurable damage!  I hate to admit what I am going to admit in this blog but I want to be real. 

This organized religion struggle is real. My questions for myself are: am I supposed to be Lutheran like I was raised? I didn’t have any problems with it only that so many times it just seemed like a lot of thee and thy wording, and nothing real was speaking to my everyday life. We were told by Billy Graham,  that you need a testimony, you need to come forward and be born again. Mom and I did that in Regis theater in Stanley after at a confirmation assignemnt to see his movie many years ago because Billy told us to in the film and we respected him and wanted to. We always listened to him on television. It’s our calling he said,  "to call others and lead them to baptism" as well. But it is so foreign to polite Lutherans to ask people, “have you heard the word of the Lord today and if you haven’t let me tell you about it”. To do that you would need to be perfect yourself is the way we always felt. When we moved to Minot we joined First Lutheran Church. I had Brendon baptized there as a baby. I say I, because Kerry and I were fighting over the Jehovah Witness thing his Mom wanted us to be,  and he wouldn’t go, so I did it alone. Then we came here to AZ.  We tried a few Lutheran churches with the same feeling as before. Christmas sermons that didn’t touch me at all, but I felt good about going because I “should” have. Then we went to Mission here in Gilbert which is a mini Hillsong type mega church. When we first started it was the absolute best! We felt like we had found what we needed and we had a lot of healing to do. The only negative for us was a lot of people had their hands up, praising God and speaking out. Something conservative ND Lutherans don’t do is draw attention to yourselves.  We had a charismatic speaker there who was the best I’d ever heard. He had you look up what he was talking about in your bible. You went with your Bible bag. The music was old hymns and new songs … but familiar new songs. Then that music group left and it just wasn’t the same but the messages left you working on yourself for the next week, so we kept going. Then the bomb dropped and the news hit that like Brian Houston our favorite pastor had also been having affairs while speaking on marriage with his wife in the first row, right side. He was terminated and we got a new pastor. That set both Sydney and I back to start. 

We are in the middle of no pastor again now there, and after watching the Hillsong documentary I’m asking is why? Why do these people who have everything, let so many people down?  I can think of so many. Jim and Tammy Baker with their gold everything and skimming money and Jimmy Swaggart,  and Josh Duggar and a lot of others. So many times in my life things are so off with the actual church pastors.  When Brendon got confirmed we had a pastor that was calling them “little shits” and other names, a lot of swearing in the regular during confirmation class. Another time the “board” got new red carpet installed in the church and then every Sunday for a month there would be a new board member getting up and asking you to dig deep because this carpet had to be paid for. Shouldn’t we have raised the money and then gotten the carpet because aren’t we supposed to try not to be in debt?  Its the money thing for me. Mission too is always asking for more money and they have every single strobe light and backdrop you could imagine. Gone are the days that you raised money to pay your pastors expenses.  I have never given a cent to a church in the form of a check because they used those envelopes with your number on them or a check. At tax time, Mom would figure out how much she had give and what more she should give for the taxes in the seventies. When I go now, I give a little cash because I can’t pass by the offering plate, my pride won’t let me do that. But it’s not a lot because I have my own little ministry, and 

My point of this blog is to admit that at 66 I’m confused about how I feel about organized religion, tithing, and what God meant for us. I know too much now about the evils, wars and sexual sins that have happened from the abuse of power over many ages. I AM NOT CONFUSED ABOUT GOD, do not confuse what i am saying.  I believe in God to the depth of my core and nothing will make me doubt he’s being and that Jesus his son died for my sins, all of our sins. I believe God has a purpose for my life and I will live until his purpose for me is over and only he knows that day. But should I worship this way or that way? If they have their hands up and I don’t… do they feel it more that me? Why do I give money with two single daughters working more than one job, raising kids for them to blow it on trivial things. I love listening to a good celebrity pastor because they are marketed, primed and practiced to be good. I love Steve who speaks at our church, he's my favorite to listen to and I pray for him moving forward that he not get to big for his britches like my Grandma used to say. But lately after so many fall, who am I really listening to? Since my bout with Covid I have really pulled in, like I did in the early eighties, to read what God is saying to me rather personally than thru the lens of another. And I have decided I don’t care if Brian Houston was sinning, a lot of good music came out of Hillsong. I don’t care if Mark was abusing his power thats his to reconcile. Maybe the devil really goes after those making a difference, calling people in, I don’t know. I am praying about it, I’m asking God to clear these things up for me, because I admit I’m lost on it and you know me I always have an opinion about everything. So keep me in your prayers to sort through this and I too will pray for all of us struggling to sort through whats real and what's not. 

The Illness That Scared The Whole World

 Do you remember the exact moment you thought this Cororna virus is unlike any illness you’d seen in your life time? Oh yes, there's been Sars, or Ebola, and as frightening as they sounded to me, I wasn’t holded up in my home, scared to be exposed to my own kids! For me it was when they started talking about letting school out! I thought this is serious, we about to learn how unpredictable this life journey is and how fast it can flip! 

Time with our loved ones isn’t just a given. When school did let out that put Shelbey at home with her boys so that was a relief for me, because I had picked up a cough that Kerry had first and it was one of those hackers where you think you may cough up a lung before you are done! Every day for a six weeks we coughed and coughed with little sleep! No fever just hacking.  Sydney was still working and I really worried about her touching maybe 30 peoples hair and beards etc. every day and then coming home to get Easton and maybe exposing him and us. Her bosses were so good though that they held a zoom meeting right away and ask all the staff if they were comfortable working. Syd said she cried and said she was so worried about dragging something to us with Easton coming back and forth so she cut way down and her bosses were ok with everyone doing whats right for their own family. Then later that month they decided to close before it was ever decided they had to because they care about the employees. They said we say we are a family and we are going to act like a family. Melissa and Brendon got grounded to their houses too, so with all that said and all our family safe I should have hit the deck running with all the projects I have to do, papers to sort, Shutterfly books to make, garage to clean, pantry to clean …you name  it, I have it to do.  Did I?  NO! Only Brendon and Melissa did that - just hit the ground running and put up a chicken coup, painted their pantry etc.  I, on the other hand,  sat around for days (30 to be exact) like I’d been shocked with a stun gun! I was still coughing, yeah… thats my excuse. Then I got antibiotics and took some steroids and got better but the numbness and disarray in my life continued. I missed the kids like crazy for one thing, the stories of people gasping through masks on facebook where causing me to panic and be sad, beloved entertainers getting and dying from it, more stories of people having to go in the hospital, ALONE TO  and die alone with no family was really dragging my mind through the darkness. I cant think of anything worse. We always have a running anxiety level in our family and Sydney said at one point, “I just want my old anxiety back”! I thought… me too! 

As I write this I ask myself… why am I writing about it? It hasn’t affected me it like it affected all those who lost family members? I wasn’t holding up a sign to my family on the other side of the glass? What am I complaining about? Too much netflix? To much cooking? Too much sleeping in?  It’s a lil like writing about 911 when you lived in Phoenix at the time. Like how dare I really, but yet I feel like I need to get out what I’m feeling about it!

So how is this going to change us? How are we going to come out of this? Are we going to hustle to the store the first day we can….not me, I’m a chicken with compromised lungs. I won’t be. 

Maybe when we get to the other side of this we will realize we are stronger than we ever thought we could be. 

Maybe we’ll wake up every day with a prayer of gratitude, I mean before our feet hit the floor a lil thank you to God for surviving this pandemic, and thankful for this day with our family.

Maybe we’ll be thankful for our work, even though it’s all too much sometimes gives us a way to take care of ourselves and our families and see our children in school, our clients that we miss and our co workers.    

Maybe our priorities with become more focused, more clear about what if it were all over tomorrow is really important enough to spend your days doing and the reasons for it. 

Maybe precious is a new word we will use often. Our faith in God is precious, our kids are precious, our parents are precious our extended family  is precious. Our unpredictable life is precious. 

Today is Good Friday, Jesus died on the cross for us only to raise again on Sunday, We too will raise again! Trust God. 

The Famous Family Boat Story

     

You know that feeling when your intuition knows better, but you do it anyway? When Kerry and I were young parents we hardly ever went anywhere without our kids. Once in a while Mom would keep our kids and Kerry’s Mom would keep Lori and Kelly’s kids,  so we could go somewhere, which would be the case this long awaited camping weekend. We had an old school bus that was fixed up into a camper and Kelly and Lori had a pop up tent camper. To make it a really special weekend, I asked Uncle Lawrence if we could borrow his boat to go fishing and surprised Kerry with an exuberant “guess what, I found us a boat for this weekend”!  My next sentence was, “YOU DO KNOW HOW TO RUN A BOAT DON’T YOU”? Offended I even asked, he scoffed and retorted, “what’s to running a boat there’s two ******** levers”! OK, good I thought, he knows how to run a boat! I don’t swim, don’t like water, know nothing about boating, but DO love to fish!  Still though, I didn’t know if I really believed him, but between him and Kelly I decided they must. 

So we drove all the way to Lake Sacagawea, found a camping spot, launched the boat in the water, and got ready to hit the high seas! Lori was pregnant with Brook. She and I were stuffed in our life jackets, all padded up like a couple of blimps as we climbed in. Cormorants were circling around the water and I made a joke that buzzards were already waiting for us!  I still had this leery feeling about Kerry running the boat, but didn’t dare say that. All four of us are in the boat now, Kerry at the wheel.  Kerry turned the key and but it doesn’t start. I looked at Lori like great, here we sit bobbing in the water like stuffed sausages. An old timer with a beer in his hand, hollers from shore, “YOU GOT THE BATTERY HOOKED UP?” Kerry relays to Kelly, “is the battery hooked up?” Kelly climbs to the back of the boat and hooks up the battery. Kerry turned the key again. Urr urr urr…still not starting. The old timer from shore yells, “YOU GOT THE GAS LINE TURNED ON??!!” Kerry again relays to Kelly, “is our gas turned on?” Kelly, already in the back, checks,  and nope... so he turns the gas on! Finally it starts! By then, I’m really convinced Kerry does not know what he’s doing, but scared or not, we are going to catch a fish in that boat! We slowly turned around in the boat and faced the water, Kerry in the drivers seat, and the rest of us fatties in back. Kerry put it in gear, and it was purring like a kitten... but a tiny weak kitten.  All you could see was sky, cuz the boat just didn’t seem to have the power to get us level on the water.

Finally the nose or bow or whatever you call the front of the boat, comes down, and we are barely puttering out to sea. The waves are choppy and rough, and Kerry is going against them. Banging up and down in the boat, Lori looks at me signaling that she doesn’t know about this rough ride, being pregnant and all. And I was literally praying to myself by now that we get back in, as the shore looked further and further away. After we get out there a long ways, all of a sudden we are stopped. Mud is churning in the propeller. We are STUCK in the middle of the river! Kerry yells, “GOD*****, we are stuck on a sand bar, You guys come up front”.  So we waddle like obedient penquins to the front, pregnant, fat and stuffed in a life jackets. He tells Kelly to get on the nose of the boat to lighten the weight in the back,  and he pushes us off the sand bar with an oar!

Now I’m mad! I crabbed at Kerry, “I KNEW YOU DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO RUN THIS THING!” “ TAKE US GIRLS BACK TO SHORE UNTIL YOU FIGURE IT OUT! So we putt, putt,  putted back, with Kerry complaining about how they could possibly water ski with this thing. Once back, Lori and I got out, and started stomping up to the bus, ready to park our butts safely in our camp chairs in the shade of the bus until and if, they figure it out. The old guy that was yelling out how to start the boat earlier, met us half way. He said, "what is going on"? I said to him, “there’s something wrong with the boat he can’t get any speed out of it”. He says and I quote, “WHATS WRONG WITH IT, IS THE DUMB SONOFABITCH THATS TRYING TO RUN IT!” He's on a mission now to show those twenty something year olds how run a boat! Beer in hand, he strides down to the boat and climbs in with Kerry and Kelly. In what seemed like one seamless step he takes over the drivers seat and they roar backwards so fast, they take in water in the boat! He spins the boat around and they roar out into the horizon, Kerry and Kelly's plaid flannel shirts disappearing in the distance.

 Pretty soon they appear again,  just skimming and skipping along the lake at high speed. Gloating about how I knew all along Kerry didn't know anything about a boat, I am happy to be safely back in my chair, and Lori is assessing if everything is alright with her pregnancy.  We didn’t know if we should laugh, or be worried for the guys with this drunk "older skipper", lets just call him, in the drivers seat! Kelly later told about the guy saying to him as they are cruising along, “pull the plug” (in the bottom of the boat to get rid of the water that came in), and he didn’t know if he should do it or not but… he did, and the water got sucked right back into the lake! That old guy  definitely knew what he was doing! 

They came back after about thirty minutes and the guys came up to the bus loaded with some laughs, and still on an adrenaline high from that crazy ride!  Kerry was explaining about some levers that had four speeds or something that he’d never seen. They were cackling now, about the guy telling Kelly to "pull...the...plug" and Kelly looking at Kerry with eyes as big as saucers, silently asking should I? We had lunch and went back out later and the water was calmer and we had fun. Now that Kerry knew how to go fast, fast it was. He was trolling so fast our bottom walkers were skimming along on top of the water, so we kind of decided that boating really isn’t Kerrys long suit. 

Kerry and I eventually got our own boat but he never has had much patience with a bunch of people casting all around him and baiting hooks and keeping peoples lines out of the propeller!  And I  decided long ago I would rather wade out in the water put my chair down, feet in the water and peacefully fish from shore, than listen to him be crabby and complain about the cost of the gas.  The boat story has been told and retold over the years at Kerry’s expense in our family, and it was funnier in hindsight than at the time thats for sure!  

  

Christmas Caramels

Caramels (in my big kettle)

1 cup of pecan pieces roasted. ()300 degrees for 25 min. Cool. 

Spray the silicone candy molds with vegetable oil or if you don’t use molds - butter two 9x13 pans, and line with parchment paper and butter that too.  You wanna be ready to pour the caramel . Caramel recipe makes about 94 carmels.  After spraying the molds add some nuts to some of them or put some nuts on top of the buttered parchment in one of the pans. Leave the other one just buttered. In a HEAVY big pot ( I use my 12 qt because it's a heavy one,  but half that size would be fine if you have a heavy one) mix: 

6 Cups Heavy Whipping Cream 

4 Cups white sugar

2 2/3 brown sugar

1 1/3 cups of light corn syrup

 Stir constantly while bringing mixture to a boil,  to dissolve the sugar. Once the mixture comes to a boil put on low,  med heat (3 or 4 on my stove). Stop stirring, and put a candy thermometer on the pot, or use an instant thermometer. Takes about 25 minutes to reach 250 degrees, here in AZ but watch closely (times vary), and stir occasionally just so the bottom doesn’t burn. Once the mixture gets to 250 degrees remove from heat and add: 

2 Tablespoons vanilla

2 Tablespoons kosher salt

4 Tablespoons butter

Stir well, and I pour the caramel in a gravy boat to be able to do a neat job pouring the caramel into the molds. I leave some plain, some with the nuts and sprinkle some coarse kosher salt on the tops of some for salted carmels.  Let them sit at room temp several hours. Turn out of molds or cut in pieces. Find yourself a good Christmas movie, grab a pair of gloves and wrap, wrap, wrap in twist wrappers (they sell these on Amazon these days, 3.5x5).   These make nice gifts. 

A Friendship...Deleted

Have you ever had a friendship you thought would never, ever end but it did? Instant death too, I’m talking about.  Not the typical, “we drifted apart when she had children and I didn’t”. Not, “I moved” or “she moved”… nothing like that. I had a twenty year friendship that ended that way, twenty something years ago. She disappeared out of my life, and it’s a cold case file.  Out of the blue,  she just wouldn’t come to the phone, wouldn’t call me back, wouldn’t answer my cards and letters I sent asking,  and finally begging, her to tell me what was wrong?  

I have no enemies that I know of.  Oh, I have people who don’t like me for whatever reason,  I’m sure.  I don’t stay mad long,  and I try and work out disagreements that inevitably happen between people. If you absolutely can't work with someone you just have to let it go, because some people just like to bitch and fight. That's not me.  When they can’t be worked out, I can easily “agree to disagree” and respect their side of what you don’t see eye to eye on. Oh I am "set in my ways" like Mom would say and I choose to keep my own opinion without winning them over.  For me to be cut off from someone, so important to my everyday life, was much like a divorce, although maybe those of you who’ve had one of those, are thinking and rightfully so, “ya right”! But it really was like a stranger than life case you see on TV. You know where the person goes missing.  Someone you’d least expect to do that. They never get in contact with you. There’s no ending, no answers and no justice.

I grieved the loss of her like a divorce or death. I ask her family, my family, our mutual friends what should I do to fix what I didn’t know was broken?  I must have done something horrendous, but what, I ask myself?  Why don’t I get a chance to at least defend what I did… if I did something, said something, didn’t do something, or should have done something! Whatever it was I blamed myself, I obviously did something!  

 I comforted  her after she lost a baby, she comforted me when I had a miscarriage, we shared all our sons t-ball games, baseball games, proms, school programs, girls nights out, birthday parties. One of the nicest cards I’d ever gotten in my life I got from this her, with a whole page written about how much she depended on my friendship. I just threw it away, last time I was in Minot. It took me that many years to part with it.  

I went through all the stages of grief, and then anger. Anger, that she would do this to my kids too. Make them question what friends are, and drop out of their lives. I’d move forward in grief and then fall back to feeling sorry for myself.  Self-remorse, self-hatred that was always my mantra for everything wrong in my life.  Whatever I must have done or said haunted me.

If you are going through grief for any kind of loss, the stages of grief are:

 1-Denial-"this can't be happening to me", not accepting or even acknowledging the loss. (I rationalized something must be going on with her husband, he never did like me, the fat friend.)  

 2-Anger-"why me?" or feelings of wanting to fight back, or get even with spouse of divorce, for death, anger at the deceased, blaming them.

3-Bargaining-bargaining often takes place before the loss if it’s one you’re expecting, but can happen after the loss as well. Attempting to make deals with God to stop or change the loss. Begging, wishing, praying for them to stay come back.

4-Depression -overwhelming feelings of hopelessness, frustration, bitterness, self-pity, mourning loss of person as well as the hopes, dreams.

 5-Acceptance - there is a difference between resignation and acceptance. You have to accept the loss, not just try to bear it quietly. Realization that the person is gone.

I finally chalked it up to insanity. I reviewed everything I tried to do. I contacted her probably six times. I decided, I did all I can do. I finally cut the string and let the hot air she’d filled me with float away.  I turned my goal toward my own personal growth. Not going to say I don’t have a scar there on my tree trunk because I do, but I’m ok with it.  

Strange thing is this friend had a history of not talking to her family members for years at a time, but I never thought she’d do that to me! Isn’t that bizarre in hindsight that I didn’t think she’d do it to me? Don’t you have to do something? She has a sister she hasn’t spoken to for years.  Maybe you are thinking, what was I thinking, being friends with her in the first place? But she was a well-liked, respected person and has a lot of people duped into thinking she is sincere.

She would leave comments under my face book comments, because we know a lot of the same people.  I blocked her so I don’t even see her name. Then she contacted my kids to be Facebook friends.  Feels a little like having some screws turned into you, one crank at a time.

I have never let myself that close to any girlfriend again, nor do I want to. And I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing but I prefer my sisters and my kids company. Actually that was kind of the end of girlfriends for me.  I’m the jilted lover that stayed single ha.  I have some friends, but I keep myself an arm’s length away. I feel somewhat unchristian like saying I don’t want her back in my comfort zone, but I don’t. I don’t want an apology, I don’t want to see her name and I don’t want to hear about her. For years I was asked about her every time I ran into people.  If I unexpectedly bump into her sometime, I have no idea how I’ll feel or act. Like I said I like everyone… so it’s new territory for me not to just be friendly.

After twenty years it is not as painful as it once was.  I used to want an explanation, then an apology and even though I feel she owes me that… I don’t want it now.  I have higher standards for myself these days! I have been schooled for 17 seasons of Dr. Phil and listened he said, “when someone shows you what they are the first time, believe it”! I tell my kids that all the time.  I am taking the advice I’d give my kids if they were in this situation, which would be “stay away, you don’t need to be brought down by mean girls. I don’t either.

There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go.  ~Author Unknown

Empty Success

    I had a great young life on the farm in ND. We grew up with lots of cats, a couple of collie dogs, and rode all kinds of horses. We were grain farmers and had horses on the PMU line, which was collecting pregnant mares urine for hormone pills. The first horses we learned to ride were a big black Belgian team, and their names were Tiny and Tony. They were gentle giants. Eventually they got sold (we were used to horses coming and going because our Dad was in the horse trading business). Then we each (Kathy and I) had Shetland ponies and they were sweet but they had their tricks to get us off and they used them!  When people brought their horses and left them to get bred, heck, we rode them too.

My sisters and I (on Clarke)

Cowboy Clarke

      One of the happiest days of my life though,  was when I got Cowboy Clarke. He was a registered Quarter Horse gelding. Even his name was cool.  Like I said, we grew up riding and horses came and went, but this horse was one in a million. Dad came to the house and told me to come to the barn. Sensing he had something he was excited about, it had to be good! I ran to the barn! Dad said, "you know who that is don't you'? Puzzled, I said, "No". He said, "Jim Zimmerman's horse Cowboy Clarke"! Now I knew! Jim used to compete with him, was older than me, and had quit horseshows.  Ray his Dad, and my Dad, were friends. Dad said, he was trading Ray one of the 2 year olds we had just bought in South Dakota (Prissy Toad) and some breeding fees for Clarke "IF YOU CAN HANDLE HIM"! He said exactly, " we will take him to the fair in a few days and if you can handle him he's yours"! A few days later, I was entered in the barrel racing and pole bending at the North Dakota State fair. He circled the judges timing steak and we broke the pattern in the barrels but I got 5th ( a pink ribbon) in the pole bending and I managed to stop him, so I guess that was good enough. I was eleven years old. I had my dream horse and my new best friend.

     I practiced with him at the farm the rest of that summer. The following year we hit all the horse shows in the Northwest Saddle Club Association circuit, which meant we traveled with a horse for Dad to show in Halter Classes, (and most of the time he got beat by the horse he traded the Zimmermans for my horse), my Cowboy Clarke and Sonny's Sharp Lady. I competed in the Jr. Division and Sonny in the Sr division. Dad would go over to the building where you paid entry fees to enter, and come back with me entered in a bunch of events I'd never even tried before! Like the Keyhole, the Ring Race, the Rescue Race, Barrels, Poles, Shoe Scrambles and anything else he thought I could do. I only wanted to do what I'd practiced, but he was the boss and I wanted to please him!

     I had a successful year though, and so did Sonny for that matter I think he was second runner up in the senior division. That fall, after horse show season was over, Dad was testing mares for pregnancy. One mare that was new, reared back and came forward- pining him against the manger in the stall. He died three weeks later from a lacerated liver that gangrene took over in. That was October 16, 1967. To say that it was a rough few years is an understatement. Mom, Kathy and I lived on the farm alone with 75 or so horses to care for. Sonny came over from where he lived, but there were times the roads were blown shut. ND in the winter, in the middle of the prairie, isn't for sissies.

    The next May, the next horse show season was ready to start, but there was an awards ceremony for the 1967 season first in Kenmare. Sonny and I went alone. I got a huge trophy and a silver belt buckle for All Around Jr. Horsemanship, for having the most accumulated points!  I also got first in barrels racing and pole bending! Driving home on the gravel road, I remember watching the grass wiz by on the side of the road, a firm grasp on my awards, knowing Dad would be proud, but feeling so empty and sad. Sonny was a quiet guy, and we didn't talk about feelings. None of us did. We just had empty, loud moments like this one, that screamed Dad really is dead....gone forever, not coming back. Another cold winter night after chores, we sat down at the table to have soup, Mom, Kathy and I. It was dark out and for some reason we all looked up at the door  at the same time and could read each others minds.  There was no Daddy coming in for supper and we all cried. But, we didn't talk, we ate our soup in silence, cleaned off the table and went to bed. That horse's neck was where I cried out my grief, shared my thoughts out loud and felt closest to my Dad. I took over his saddle and rode in it the from then on. I still have it in my bedroom. I picture him with his little short legs on his horse lots of times.

    I kept on riding in horse shows, until I was sixteen or so and Sonny lost interest. He had his own little girls and family. By then Kathy was riding in horse shows too.  Mom drove us to our last horse show in Powers Lake, ND,  with our two horses in a stock rack in the back of our Chevy pickup. It got dark before they got to the barrel racing   and my horse couldn't see the first barrel and either could I ( I needed glasses ) until it was too late.  We flew through the fence, people scattering, sparks flying! Neither the horse or I got hurt but I ripped my pants from waist band to waist band and that was bad enough! To top it off we had a flat tire on the way home and had to unload the horses, and stand in the ditch with them, while some good samaritan helped Mom change it. Mom cried and said, "I can't do this anymore, we have to stop the horse shows". And we did. I still rode in Blaisdell or somewhere close to home.

    I had some great friends through, those horse show days. Cheri Albertson and I wrote letters on off weeks and waited to see each other at all the horse shows. Sometimes she'd beat me, sometimes I'd beat her, but we didn't care. We ate dust all day and cold watermelon from somebody's cooler between events. Nobody drank alcohol, it was just a lot of family fun. We had chokecherry fights with the Vesey boys and the Nelson brothers. It was a great way to grow up.

I don't want to be all mellow dramatic,  but I write these mostly for my kids, and Easton and I found the article in a treasure box last night, It had yellowed and was pretty frail so I decided to scan it and write about this important time in my life.  My horse was the center of life for me,  and some of my best/saddest days of my life happened at the same time.

When Clarke was about 20 years old, and I had kids of my own, I sold him to a young girl about 13 years old who wanted to take him to horse shows and learn to ride. I remembered how i felt getting him and he was not getting the love and attention anymore from me, I lived 60 miles away. He had a good "old life" with her and she loved him like i did. Here's to Cowboy Clarke, best friend for life.

Brendon digging my saddle out of the rafters for me to restore.

before restoration

It Isn't Going To Be Easy

What does long marriage look like at the end of your life? Is it a movie version? You know, a male and a female hobbling along, hand in hand, stopping for a lil peck, and then gingerly sitting down a park bench, he holding the umbrella over her and watching the sunset? Or in reality is it more like watching all star wrestlering? They share a ring, one in each corner venturing out to exchange some harsh words (hopefully no punches), but then retreat and get patched up for the next one! For me, the scene around here is somewhere in between those two with some moments of each. 

I am a type A and move at a “hurry up, lets go pace”. Kerry is notorious around here for sitting at the table, until all of us are loaded in the car before he comes out last, and in the eleventh hour, pops the hood on the car to check the oil! My hair is starting to fry just thinking about it! Finally were off, almost late now. Once we get to our destination, I hop out and try to lock the doors, just as his first foot is landing on the pavement to get out. I used to stand and wait at the front of the car feeling bugged and not hiding that fact either. 

Kerry on the other hand is not exactly laid back, either. He likes to control little things, like if the little lock in the center of the door knob. In his world that little knob should be pointing to 12 o'clock, so you can see from a distance that the door is locked, without having to walk over to check. Also, all two way switches have to be in the proper off/on position. My thoughts on that are pretty simple. I don’t have time for that bs. If the door is locked that's good enough, I have bigger fish to fry. In a nut shell, we are both control freaks can you tell? 

So, what works for us here is we run parallel most of the time. He stays in his lane, and me in mine. If he wants those switches, he can make that happen. Same story, with the door lock. The oil thing has become a thing of the past, thank you God, because our car is newer and is fine from oil change to oil change these days. When we get to a restaurant, I still hop out, and his foot still is hitting the pavement but I leave him to lock it and I march in and get a table and he comes at his own pace, that way I’m not bugging him by standing there, hair obviously on fire, and he can take his time. I more than likely have a drink by the time he comes in. 

So we are somewhat like both of the opening scenarios- we enjoy watching the kids in the backyard, talking about them, the day, the upcoming week. Talk about what a nice job Ramon did etc.  Then again we might snap each others heads off, faster then eating a crawfish and then retreat like the wrestlers,  only to come back in a half hour like it never happened. Never mentioned again. By now we know nobody is going to do any major changing so might as well save your breath. 

The real security of our long marriage is, he knows I will bring him coffee every morning while he’s still in bed and I know if I am sick he will cover for me. By that I mean we can count on each other. Is it perfect? No. But I hope in the end our kids will see that it takes compromise, commitment and basically a determination that we ARE staying together because if we don’t one of us would be missing this precious time with the kids and grandkids and that’s the currency that’s important to both of us. 

There are ways around being very different people. Who knows the real person when you are 18 and 20? It's all about chemistry then, and we all change with life. One of my favorite things about Kerry is he has always allowed me to be me, and do what I want. And I am forever grateful he went to work on the railroad with its horrendous hours and we farmed besides, while I was Mom first, and did lots of other jobs that only ‘fit with being home with the kids. I believe that’s why we have adults that we are proud of today, because we invested more time than money in them and they know they are our number one priority.   

So, I encourage you not to compare your long marriage with anyone else’s. No two people are the same. If you look up “perfect long marriages” on google,  you won’t see Kerry and Pam Picek that’s for sure!  But there are lots of ways to love and support each other but I hope the kids will think of us sliding into home plate one day together, dirty, bruised, broke a few rules, but hey ...we made like we promised we would in 1973. (Now watch… divorce papers filed next week ha…then I’ll have a new topic won’t I?) 

Pam's Norwegian Lefse

I grew up making lefse. I had a Norwegian father and a German Mother. My German mother was always on a quest to find the perfect lefse recipe so every year she kept trying a different one which led to a lot of failures. But she kept going till she got it right for my Dad. She used to rice the potatoes which is a big tiring messy job. She and I made lefse for all my married life, together. Since she passed away,  I have been making mine the same way and trying to perfect it. Some people think the thinner the better but I like mine a little moister and thats the way my family likes it so this is my own recipe from all our failures. 

Ingredients:

10 lbs russet potatoes

1/2 cup of salted butter 

1 cup cream (more or less)

2 tbsp sugar

2 teas salt 

5 cups of flour + more to roll out.... used the next day! 

I start my lefse by cooking ten pounds of potatoes, in salted water in the crockpot overnight on low two nights before I plan to make lefse.  In the morning I mash the potatoes with my stand mixer in two batches using the above ingredients( so half of everything) They should be a little saltier that you would do your mashed potatoes. Then I dump the batches together in a big bowl and chill the mashed potatoes in the refrigerator that day and that next night.

On lefse day,  plug in your grill and turn it to high to heat. Lay out towels to cool the lefse on after  cooking them. I cover my round lefse board with either the cover or a flour sack dishtowel, masking taped tight to the board on the backside. I know fancy!  Then I measure 6 cups of chilled potatoes into the mixer bowl and add 2.5 cups of flour and mix together, just until mixed. See how it feels, it cant be real sticky but a little sticky is ok cuz you are going to use more flour when you roll. Then using a 1/4 measuring cup I make balls of dough and put them on a plate covered with a towel so as not to dry out. To roll out, I flour my rolling pin with all the little crevices ( I do this after almost every one I bake). Then I flour the towel or cover on the lefse board and kind or work it into the material. Next I plop a ball on the center of my rolling board and sprinkle it with little flour on top and bottom. Roll it out the thickness of a tortilla and as round as you can, about the size of a plate. Don't use any more flour than you have to as it makes it dry and tough. 

Bake until it has nice brown spots on it then and flip over to bake the other side. cool on a towel for a few min and then fold it up in quarters and move it to another set of towels you are cooling them in. This recipe makes about 30 rounds. After completely cooled place in a baggie and  refrigerate (they dont last long in the refrigerator before they mold so I freeze in quart baggies. Share with friends and family, which is the most fun part. It's a lot of work but quite the tradition in my life with my mother, kids and now with my grown kids. 

Pam's Chicken Tortilla Soup

3 Large chicken breasts
1 ldg can of diced tomatoes
1 can whole kernel corn (2 if you really like thicker soup)
3 cans of black beans or one large and one small
3 cloves of garlic
1 large bunch of chopped cilantro
I large onion
2 Tbsp chicken soup flavoring ( I like the Better Than Boullion brand)
1 can of green chilis
48 oz chicken broth
2 cans of fiesta nacho cheese soup
1 large can of mild red enchilada sauce
1 Teas of pepper
1 teas salt

I cook it in the crockpot on high about seven hours and then shred the chicken with a fork and put it back in the soup. Then I add, five or six american cheese slices before serving and a couple TBSP of butter.

I garnish mine with tortilla strips ( I buy them in a bag but you can make them with tortillas sliced and browned in a lil olive oil). Also for other garnishes you can add:

•  Sour Cream
•  Diced Avocado
•  Salsa Or Pico De Gallo
•  Grated Monterey Jack Cheese

If you like it spicier, use rotel instead of diced tomatoes, and a hotter enchilada sauce, or even use some red pepper.  

Grandma Ethel's Homemade Tomato Soup

28 oz can of peeled whole plum tomatoes
1/2 teas baking soda
3 cups whole milk
1/2 cup cream
1/2 teas salt ( this is to your liking too)
coarse black pepper to taste
2 tbsp butter


Open the can of tomatoes and puree leaving large chunks or no chunks of tomato whatever your liking is. Pour the tomatoes into the saucepan and add the baking powder stirring to mix. This looks a little frothy, and helps the milk from not curdling from the acid in the tomatoes. Turn on med heat and add the milk, cream, salt and pepper. (remember that pepper sinks to the bottom so don't just keep adding). Heat TO boiling but don't boil. Remove from stove and add butter to top of the soup while hot. Serve with crackers or better yet a grilled cheese sandwich.

* When Kathy and I were teenagers and we'd go shopping with Mom in Minot we would stop at Speedway, a restaurant on the way home and Mom and I would have tomato soup and Kathy would have macaroni salad. Kathy likes tomato too these days.

Pam's Sour Cream Raisin Pie

What’s your favorite pie? Pie came to America with the first English settlers. What kind of pie you grew up with depended largely on what are of the United States and where your ancestors came from. In the South pecan pies were popular with the many nut trees in the area.  Pennsylvania Dutch made molasses “shoofly” pies. Settlers in Florida, utilizing the plentiful local citrus, turned native limes into key lime pie. The Midwest, famous for its dairy farms, favored custard and cream pies. Massachusetts invented the beloved Boston Cream Pie, a hybrid pie-cake. This colorful variety of pies reflects the diverse tapestry of early American culture. If one wanted to, one could tell the story of our nation through pie. (http://toriavey.com/history-kitchen/2011/07/the-history-of-pie-in-america-2/).

My favorite pie has always been Sour Cream Raisin. Mom and I would buy a Sour Cream Raisin Pie at the bakery in Stanley and we would enjoy it for a week! Over the years my favorite thing to have at Schatz’s truck stop in Minot is Sour Cream Raisin pie. I have only made it a few times because guess who eats it all? Me. No one in my family thinks its as good as I do. I have messed around with the recipe and made notes until I think I have it like I like it, so I’m sharing it with you. I hope you like it. I’d love it if you have a favorite to say what it is and share the recipe! 

                      Pam’s Sour Cream Raisin Pie

Ingredients

    Filling

      1 1/2 cups dairy sour cream

              1/2 cup whipping cream

      1 cup sugar

              pinch of salt

              Couple shakes of nutmeg

      3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

      3 egg yolks

      1 1/3 cup raisins (plumped)

    Meringue

              4 egg whites (notice:you need one more egg white than you           need egg yolks)

      1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

      1/2 cup sugar

      1 teas vanilla

      1 baked 9-inch pie shell

              1.5 tbsp cinnamon and sugar mixture

Directions:

1.    Separate three eggs in bowls. Yokes in one, whites in one, add one more white to the bowl of whites making it four egg whites. Let them sit to become room temp. Next, pour boiling water to cover the 1 1/3 cups of raisins in a bowl and let that sit while preparing the filling mix.

        2.   For the pie filling, in a heavy medium saucepan stir together the sour cream, the heavy cream, 1cup sugar, flour, the 3 egg YOLKS, and the drained raisins. Cook, stirring constantly, over medium heat until thickened and bubbly. 

3.   For meringue, place the egg whites in the mixer and beat till looks foamy. Then add the cream of tartar. Beat with an electric mixer on high speed until soft peaks form (tips curl). Gradually add 1/2 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, beating on high speed about 4 minutes more or until mixture forms stiff glossy peaks (tips stand straight). Add vanilla(clear if you have it so meringue stays nice and white). Mix just enough to mix in.

4.   Pour warm filling into baked pie shell. Spread meringue over filling. Bake in a 350 degree F oven for 15 minutes or until the meringue is lightly browned. Remove and sprinkle with cinnamon/sugar mixture. cool on a wire rack for 1 hour. Chill 3 to 6 hours before serving; cover for longer storage.

nutrition facts

(Old-Fashioned Sour Cream/Raisin Pie)

Servings Per Recipe 8, chol. (mg) 101, sat. fat (g) 9, vit. C (mg) 1, carb. (g) 87, Fat, total (g) 21, calcium (mg) 81, cal. (kcal) 545, pro. (g) 7, vit. A (IU) 486, iron (mg) 2, fiber (g) 1, sodium (mg) 125