Quotidian Life

A Visit to the Manor House~Hughenden

2012-01-31T05:27:00.000-08:00

Though we spent all our London days at the National Gallery, we took Sunday off, staying in High Wycombe with our friends. We enjoyed worshiping with their church in the morning, and in the afternoon we hiked through a couple meadows and a park to visit the local manor house, Hughenden. Hughenden was the residence of Queen Victoria's favorite prime minister, Benjamin Disraeli, from 1848-1881, and during World War II, a secret wartime headquarters, purported to be on the top of Hitler's hit list, was ensconced in the cellar.

The interior of the manor was simply yet elegantly decorated for Christmas. I took lots of pictures as I wanted to share the English beauty and style with Tayta.

The Dining Room~ I loved the simplicity of the ivy and red ribbon garlands.

In the dining room with my dear friend, Monica

The Study~ the books were protected by wire screening so no pulling those lovely leather-bound volumes off the shelf for a look.

The Drawing Room
...and a few close ups of elegance...

the tea table

The mantle was trimmed with greens and red carnations, the perfect accent to the beautiful portrait of Disraeli's beloved wife, Mary Anne.

Here's the other side of the drawing room, with lovely views into the garden.

In the hallway we viewed a sample holiday gift basket which would be given to a servant of the manor.

Down into the cellar we went, to see the World War II intelligence headquarters:

The Communications Room

Here is where I admit that while I had seen this poster all over the internet, I hadn't realized until I saw it in the manor house that it originated in wartime England.

I took this one for Dear Husband. He smiled. Sort of.

We took a turn in the garden and then it was time to head back, making a brief stop at the church on the manor grounds. The church still has an active congregation and is also the location of Disraeli's burial vault.

Leaving the church, we set out across the park, headed for home.

One last picture of us, surrounded by English beauty. Yes, the grass was really this green. Such a lovely day.

Felted Wool in the Kitchen

2012-01-27T07:54:00.001-08:00

Necessity is the mother of invention, and if you saw my sorry looking potholders, you would know what inspired me to create these potholders from felted wool. My old potholders, brought from the U.S. as the offerings in the Jordanian market are pitifully (and dangerously) thin, were raggedy, stained, and scorched. A few weeks ago I found a very large, thick, oatmeal-colored sweater that just seemed to say, "make potholders from me."

I was able to cut thirteen 8 inch squares from the one sweater. I then cut 8 inch squares from coordinating medium/thick felted wool. I attached them first by straight stitching diagonal lines from corner to corner. I used masking tape as a guide for the first couple of potholders and then took off freestyle. I then zig-zagged the edges together, using a longer stitch so the edges didn't curl too much. (I pressed them flat when finished as I'm sort of particular about things like that, but you wouldn't have to.)

Here's the backside of the potholders. I choose not to put loops on them as I don't hang my potholders, but it would be easy to add those.

The wool potholders added a touch of coziness to my winter kitchen. Then, the wooden kitchen table looked bare, especially since I had recently removed the Christmas table runner. "Why not make a table runner from felted wool scraps?" I thought.

I made this by butting the edges of various sized strips together and zig-zagging them.

This is a good place to mention that having a rotary cutter and cutting board is very helpful for felted wool projects. I was pretty pleased with the results of this modest project as it was the first project I actually designed myself, rather than modifying of copying someone else's idea. I'm just not that original.

Here's a picture of a corner of my kitchen so that you can see how the runner coordinates with the valances.

One of the very practical reasons for my increased ability to create is a wonderful little enclosed porch just off the kitchen of our new home. Before we ever moved in, I had claimed tt for a creative space:

I am able to keep all my creative projects and supplies in one place and I can keep my sewing machine out at the ready all the time. Artist son is sharing the creative space this year as he works on his AP design portfolio. He likes to work near the hub of home life, which is our kitchen.

It is so nice to have all my "stuff" in one place--I know Dear Husband appreciates it too. If you've read along for awhile you may remember my "flower beds" in my old home: plant starts stored on the bunk beds in our former guest bedroom.

Art Gallery Trip~The National Gallery of London

2012-01-25T06:14:00.001-08:00

For a few years now I've dreamed of taking Artist Son to a significant art gallery of Western art. Unfortunately, there aren't any in the Middle East and we don't have much of a chance to visit renowned galleries even when we are stateside, being from Idaho as we are--though we were treated to an excellent exhibition of James Audubon paintings at the Boise Art Museum last year.

Then one late night this fall, I realized that my seemingly fanciful dreams could become a reality and within the week our gallery trip was planned and booked: Until now it has been expensive to fly from Jordan to just about anywhere, with flights to London costing around $600, but last year Easy Jet entered the market with a flight from Amman to London at very good prices, depending. It turns out that early December, when we wanted to travel, was one of the good times to fly and I was able to purchase both our tickets for a total of $340! Some of our dearest friends live near London and were willing to host us, and the National Gallery offers free admission, so our trip expenses were minimal. My friend even made sack lunches for us every day!

But how could we go to London and visit only the National Gallery? With over 2300 masterpieces on exhibit, we didn't even wonder. So short was our time (three full days in London proper) and so narrow our focus, we didn't even consider visiting the National Portrait Gallery a couple blocks away or the Leonardo DiVinci exhibition on display at the National Gallery, for which we would have had to purchase advance tickets and que up in the cold early morning. No regrets. Not one.

My favorite Art Nerd in front of the National Gallery

If ever I wondered if Artist Son was made to appreciate and create art, I wonder no more. He seemed to relish everything about looking at and wondering at artful masterpieces for three full days. His favorite part was the free walking tours and other lectures offered by art historians of the gallery. Twice a day, a one-hour walking tour was offered in which five to six works of art were explained and explored. We learned so much. We also enjoyed such lectures as a 45-minute lunch-time lecture on a Raphael altarpiece.

A contraband photo of Andrew viewing Joseph Mallord William Turner's Ulysses deriding Polyphemus

Toward the end of our first day at the gallery we happened upon a once-a-month workshop in which an artist described Sir Thomas Lawrence's portrait of Queen Charlotte and then instructed a group of artists (amateurs and professionals?) on how to render it in charcoal.

Portrait of Queen Charlotte by Sir Thomas Lawrence (1789, London),
The National Gallery, London

When the drawing session was over, the artists were instructed to put their sketches on the floor in the front of the group so that all could gather round to see what had been created. Coming a little late to the session, Artist's Son's drawing was less complete than some of the others, but proud and loyal mother that I am, I examined it carefully to find its goodness. A women who was studying the art work carefully pointed at Artist Son's drawing and inquired, "Who did this one?" Not a peep from Artist Son. She asked a second time, adding "This one, right here, is really good." Still no word from Artist Son so I felt compelled to point him out, "He's the artist." Oh, and I had to add, "He's my son."

So went our wonder-full, beauty-full days at the National Gallery. We didn't get to view every painting, many paintings we longed to study more closely, but a few paintings we visited each day, letting their beauty and awesomeness soak into us. (I've been toying with idea of doing a Fine Arts Friday but for my knowledge of how inconsistent I can be. Maybe a Fine Arts Whenever. Stay tuned.)

While in London, we really did just hang out at the National Gallery, but one night after the gallery closed, we walked few blocks down near the bridge over the Thames and took a few "I Was There" pictures:

Artist Son in front of Big Ben

Artist Son in front of Westminster Abbey

The perfect finale to our gallery trip was seeing a brilliant production of Les Miserables. Artist Son was skeptical when we took our seats in the very last row of the theater, truly the nosebleed section. I had purchased the tickets that morning, requesting the best bargain seats. Even though the tickets were for the last row, the ticket agent guaranteed that they were a good buy for the money and that we would be able to see 100% of the stage. After the show began, Artist Son's doubts quickly vanished and he was visibly awestruck and moved when the show was over. Guess what soundtrack he listens to now while he is working on his art?

Sending Them Off with Warm Wool

2012-01-14T10:50:00.000-08:00

I was able to accomplish a few wool projects for my college kiddos while they were home so I thought I'd share them here in case they can provide inspiration for any fellow felters.

Oldest Daughter wanted some new mittens so I made these in one of her favorite new fashion colors: red. The extra-long, extra-wide scarf (1oo inches by 9 inches) was made from cashmere scraps. I never throw away a cashmere scrap and here was my first opportunity to put them to good use. The red scrap was the neck of a turtleneck sweater. Oldest Daughter arranged the colors. I pieced the blocks by zig-zagging them together and ruffled the edges by pulling the edge taught as I zig-zagged it.

New felting idea: I'm running low on cashmere and have found some lambswool/angora blends that are nearly as soft so I'm thinking of trying some ruffled scarves with them.

Active Son came home without slippers and slippers are necessary for our winter-cold concrete tile floors. This gave me a chance to try out the pattern I had recently purchased on Etsy. I had to work out the sizing a bit to make a men's 11.5, adding some length to the pattern. This pattern is great, and the instructions are easy to follow, but I advise tracing one's foot to find one's size per the pattern. The slippers are lined with the same softer wool that I used for the contrasting trim. These slippers are a good project for wool that has felted thickly.

Active Son wore these a lot the two weeks he was home--he said he felt a little like a hobbit when wearing them.

January~Asphodelus aestivus

2012-01-13T04:55:00.000-08:00

I do love to share the beauty of Jordan's wildflowers whenever I have the opportunity so I thought I would post a wildflower each month from the pages of my second Flowering Jordan calendar. The flowers featured each month don't necessarily correspond to the month in which the bloom but sometimes they do. I've been around the countryside just a bit this month and I've noticed some Asphodel stalks preparing to bloom--still a few weeks away, depending on the weather.

I was pretty pleased with this picture of Asphodels as I've been challenged to compose a good horizontal image (needed for the calendar) of such an obviously vertical bloom. I'd been looking for just the right grouping of lilies for awhile.

Wildflower-spotting: a vacant lot in west Amman

Kindle Love

2012-01-11T10:25:00.000-08:00

I've been experiencing Kindle Love since I received my birthday Kindle last spring. Yes, in a perfect world, i.e. unlimited space, unlimited money, and quick, reliable overseas shipping (ha!), I would prefer a traditional paper book over a Kindle. However, since I have none of the above, I am very, very thankful for Kindle technology. This Christmas the rest of the family received Kindles, so now we are a six-Kindle family, the maximum number of devices which can be registered on one account, meaning we can share all our books amongst ourselves. And since I've purchased and read more than few books on my Kindle since last spring, everyone received Kindles loaded with a small library ready to go! All the kids have commented that they are reading more now that they own Kindles.

The Christmas Kindles in their felted wool sleeves

Reading on our Kindles:
(I've read some of these, thus the book notes)

Dear Husband:

Fresh Vision for the Muslim World
Great book by American Mike Kuhn who lived and worked in the Middle East for many ; readable, balanced, and insightful. Providing helpful historical and theological perspective, Kuhn lovingly challenges his readers' moral imagination and does not neglect or side-step the issues and problems with which many western Christians are concerned.

Oldest Daughter:

Scars of War, Wounds of Peace: The Israeli-Arab Tragedy
The most helpful book I've read on the Israeli-Arab conflict so far, written by ex-Israeli Foreign Minister Shlomo Ben-Ami, an honest scholar and an honest Zionist. Highly recommended.

Weight of Glory (Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis)
This one is nice for dipping into now and then, as Oldest Daughter was able to do on her way back to school.

Active Son:

Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption Laura Hillenbrand
Active son plowed through all 500 pages in less than a few days and recommended it to Artist Son--if he has time to take on another book.

The Everlasting Man
Highly quotable, which is no surprise since the author is G.K. Chesterton. Active Son was reading me a quote every half hour or so while reading this book. I think he's back to this one now that he's finished Unbroken.

Artist Son:

The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains, Nicholas Carr
This was a life changing book for me but I just haven't had time to write about it. Artist Son is enjoying it as well and recommends it.

The Picture of Dorian Gray
Artist Son was assigned this for his Rhetoric Class: "Do we have The Picture of Dorian Gray, Mom?"
"No, but lets check the Kindle Store. Why yes it's here, and it's free!"

Tayta:

Forgotten God: Reversing Our Tragic Neglect of the Holy Spirit
With Amazon Prime, Tayta was able to borrow this book by Francis Chan until the end of the month--free!

Me:

(recently finished)

The Israel Lobby and U.S. Foreign Policy
A provocative book only because of the subject matter, but not because of the way in which the authors, both political scientists, handle it. This is about the 10th (or 11th? or 12th? I've lost count) book I've read regarding the Israeli/Arab/Palestinian conflict since June. I'm taking a break. If you are intrigued by GOP hopeful Ron Paul's take on foreign policy and blowback, you may enjoy this book, written by University of Chicago professor J. Mearsheimer and Harvard professor Stephen M. Walt. Recommended.

Home: A Novel
My tendency is to gorge myself on ideas ala non-fiction and neglect the nurture of my imagination. I'm forcing myself to read a work of fiction before I begin another book. I really do enjoy it once I get going but I'll have to shun a few other books that are vying for my attention until I finish this one. Marilynne Robinson is an author whose essays I've enjoyed and I've long wanted to try her fiction.

This is an unsolicited twelve thumbs up for our Kindles!

Gathering Up a Few Holiday Memories

2012-01-08T13:16:00.000-08:00

No matter how much I simplify and/or prepare in advance, the days approaching Christmas are always busy but once when we sit down to Christmas dinner I breath an inner (and sometimes outer) sigh of relief, looking forward to the celebratory feast and the week of casual celebrating and relaxing with family and friends. The week between Christmas and New Years is my favorite week of the year.

We celebrated our first Christmas in our new home in Mafraq by joining the Christmas morning celebration at Annoor Sanatorium for Chest Illnesses. While the staff and some others received guests, mostly ex-patients and their families, the kids and I helped with crowd control for the children, as over one hundred children listened (well, mostly) to a presentation of the Christmas story.

After the morning festivities we scurried home to prepare for Christmas dinner, which we were delighted to share with friends from five different countries: Korea, England, Belgium, Egypt, and Sweden. As we enjoyed our dinner together, each shared Christmas traditions from our home countries. Did you know that cranberries are part of the traditional British Christmas dinner? Our hegemony is complete!

The day after Christmas was for sleeping in, staying in pajamas until noon, cleaning up, and receiving a few visitors come to wish us a blessed Christmas. Holiday visits are an important part tradition in both the Christan and Muslim community in Jordan.

Holiday treats served to guests

On Tuesday we took advantage of the nice weather and took a day trip to one of our favorite sites in Jordan: Um Qais, the ancient decapolis city of Gadara, where Jesus cast the swine out of the Gadarene. The ancient city overlooks the Sea of Galilee (Lake Tiberius) and the Golan Heights.

The Golan Heights are seen on the right, in the distance, and the Sea of Galilee, faintly, right in the center of the photo.

We attempted our annual family photo while in Um Qais, however we forgot the tripod, so the picture isn't the greatest and capturing the moment was a little stressful. Can you hear the commands we are muttering to each other through our smiles? I hope not!

I like this one of the kids:

My last cyclamen sighting of 2011, and my first of the new wildflower season:

Cyclamen persicum
Um Qais

After a long day outside, we spent too long searching for a good restaurant at which to enjoy a good Arab meal together.

Utopia, with it's retro-modern decor, way too many items on the menu, and few customers was a dubious choice for a good Arab meal, but the kabaab and shish-tawouk were delicious--the perfect end to a lovely day.

The rest of the week was spent lolling around, working on some felted wool items for the college kids, visiting friends, having friends up from Amman, reading books on all the new Christmas Kindles, eating too much sugar, and constructing the annual gingerbread house, made after Christmas for the first time.

Dear Husband and I welcomed the new year quietly, at home, while our kids celebrated with friends well past midnight. Our final celebration of the week was enjoying sweet fellowship and delicious salmon chowder for New Year's lunch with dear friends in Amman. Happy New Year and !كل عام وأنتم بخير God's richest blessings on you in the coming year!

Our Humble Estate

2011-12-22T02:55:00.000-08:00

So often at this time of year I meditate on the humble circumstances of my Lord Jesus's incarnation: born in a manger to a young virgin who was betrothed to a simple carpenter. This year it is the humble estate of our humanness that is coming into focus; my prayer card seems too long this advent season, as I remember family and friends who have recently been touched by death, illness, hospitalization, financial stresses, relationship difficulties, hurting children, political turmoil, and unstable living situations. My initial thought was that this is such a hard time of year to face such affliction. Then, I was reminded that this is why Jesus came to earth--and, oh, do we ever need a Savior right now! We can bear the heartaches and affliction because, Immanuel, God with us.

This advent season I had the privilege of beholding the beauty of this painting on a serendipitous visit to England's National Gallery with Artist Son, and as a family we have memorized The Magnificat:

Adoration of the Shepherds
by a pupil of Rembrandt
The National Gallery, London

And Mary said,
"My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is for those who fear him, from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the might from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever."

Luke 1: 45-55

That Only Took About Fifteen Years ~or~ Felted Wool Christmas Stockings for the Artist Son and Tayta

2011-12-20T04:29:00.001-08:00

I'm guessing I'm not the only mom who has followed this (downhill) trajectory when it comes to handmade gifts for her children:

Oldest Daughter: cross-stitched Beatrix Potter alphabet quilt (that one only took about 500 hours to complete), cross-stitched birth sampler (done by friend), cross-stitched Christmas stocking
Active Son: no quilt, but he received a smaller birth sampler and a less complicated cross-stitched Christmas stocking.
Artist Son and Tayta: lots of good intentions--I still have the patterns and fabric to prove it.

Artist Son and Tayta have been making due with inexpensive store-bought Christmas stockings for many years now, but thanks to my new-ish felting hobby, they now have handmade Christmas stockings.

The reds and greens are a little hard to capture with the camera, but I'm very happy with the color combinations--the kids said they reminded them of the Jordanian flag, so these will carry more than one memory.

My inspiration and pattern supplier came from this post on Moda Bake Shop blog . I cut my strips to the same dimensions minus the seam allowances on the width: 18 inches by 2 inches narrowing to one inch.

A few variations for making these with felted wool:

My stockings aren't quilted--they are just a front and back, sewn, right sides together, turned and pressed. To piece the felted wool I butted the edge of two pieces of felted wool together and zig-zagged them.

I attached the front of the stocking to the back (cut from a solid piece of felted wool) by placing right sides together and sewing a very narrow seam (about 1/8 inch). After turning the stocking, I steam/pressed it.

The top band was made with a band of felted wool cut to 3 inches by 15 inches. I sewed the short edges together to make a continuous band, then pinned the band on the inside of the stocking, right side of band next to wrong side of stocking, sewed a very narrow seam (about 1/8 inch), turned and pressed.

I also made these a little longer by using 12 strips instead of 10. Finished dimensions: 7.5 inches across the top band, by 19 inches, measuring to the lowest point of the toe.

I plan to personalize these stockings for Artist Son and Tayta, but that requires a trip into Amman for just the right wool yarn. Hopefully that won't take me another 15 years.

Winter Beauty

2011-12-16T12:33:00.001-08:00

Winter Crocus, Colchium Genus

Wildflower Spotting: Ajloun Nature Reserve

The New Sweet Potato Casserole

2011-12-12T02:47:00.000-08:00

First of all, the New Sweet Potato Casserole is not a casserole at all, but it does replace our longstanding, well-loved, yea even passed down from my dear mother-in-law, traditional holiday sweet potato casserole. I felt a twinge of sentimentality and disloyalty giving up this recipe, but since one serving probably has more sugar and fat in it than a piece (or two) of sweet potato pie, the twinge quickly passed. We are moving on to healthier menus, as is my mother-in-law so I'm sure she wouldn't begrudge the new recipe.

Besides being healthier, this new recipe is so easy to make and can be adjusted to any amount of sweet potatoes you decided to roast. I have only this measly portion of roasted sweet potatoes to offer in my picture as I forgot to photograph them right away, and this is all that was left.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Olive Oil and Brown Sugar/Chipotle

Peel and cube as many sweet potatoes as you wish to roast. I make my cubes approximately 1-1.5 inches square. Place sweet potatoes in large bowl and toss with some olive oil. Sprinkle with spice mixture, tossing well to coat all the potatoes.

Below is the recipe for the spice mix and you can use as much or as little as you want, depending on the amount of potatoes you are roasting. I confess, I haven't really measured how much I've used as I've roasted disparate quantities. While the chipotle adds a pleasing, distinctive flavor, this spice mixture is great without it. Confession: on Thanksgiving I accidentally added taco seasoning instead of chipotle and everyone loved it.

Place prepared sweet potatoes on a backing sheet (or two) and roast for about 45-60 minutes about 375 degrees F. This is an estimate--I check mine and when they look like they are browning on one side I turn them carefully with a large spatula, so not to mush the soft potatoes so that they will roast/crisp evenly. Don't worry about making too many--these will disappear quickly and make great leftovers.

Spice Mix
(inspired from Donalyn's Ketchum's blog for a different recipe)
3 Tablespoons brown sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon chipotle powder
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

A Few Felting Tips

2011-12-11T10:32:00.000-08:00

Since a couple of friends commenting on my last post indicated that they may be heading to the thrift stores for some wool sweater treasure hunting of their own, I thought I'd post a few things I've learned about felting sweaters in case it may be of some help. Some of this wool wisdom I've gleaned from books or websites here and there, some of it I've learned from experience. I honestly can't remember which is which--except the pillowcases, which is a great idea, just not mine.

Choosing a sweater to felt:
Not all wool felts (shrinks) to the same degree so paying attention to wool labels is the first thing that will aid you in choosing good sweaters for felting:

Machine washable wool, in my experience, will not felt. Makes sense.

A sweater doesn't necessarily have to be 100% wool to felt. I believe a minimum of 70-80% is the rule of thumb.

Favorite wools to felt: lambswool, merino wool, some angora blend sweaters are very nice if they don't shed too much. Shetland usually felts well the first time but sometimes needs the encouragement of a second wash. Some cashmere felts better than others but all cashmere is wonderful and can be used as linings, for scarfs, baby blankets, etc.

A felted sweater is one in which you can no longer discern the knit of the wool--it all blends together.

I have felted a couple of woven wool skirts (vs knitted wool sweaters) with varying degrees of success. I plan to use this wool for craft accents.

Felting wool is part science, part art. I have purchased just a few 100% wool sweaters which didn't felt well, for no apparent reason, even if I washed them twice in boiling water. Maybe a dryer would have helped at this point--I'm not sure, but I've read that a dryer can help if a sweater isn't felting well. I've also felted sweaters, a large fisherman wool sweater from Ireland comes to mind, which I wasn't sure would felt well as the weave was loose. It felted so well that it was the thickness of a paperback book! I look forward to the felted surprises I find when I open my pillowcases. I've had a few disappointments but have been able to make things even with some of those--like a sleeping pad for our cat. Confession: I have thrown a couple felting disappointments in the garbage can.

Preparing the sweater for felting: I cut off the arms of the sweater and cut down the seam of the arm so that it lays flat. If you don't do this, the wool of the sweater arm may crease in the wash. I leave the bodice intact as I haven't experienced the same creasing problem here and sometimes Tayta likes the bodice intact for particular purse patterns.

As I mentioned before, I do a batch of like colors (especially with reds which tend to bleed like crazy) and each is enclosed in an old pillowcase so that fibers don't mix. Rubber bands will have to be replaced periodically and someday when I have time I will make zippered pillowcases.

Cleaning tip: Since I am drying my sweaters outside, I take the sweaters out of the pillowcases outside, give them a few good shakes, and the pillowcases as well. Some sweaters shed a little, some a lot. Maybe a dryer would take care of all this lintiness.

I also run a bleach load with the empty pillowcases periodically, to keep my washer clean. I read that somewhere out there on the world wide web.

And just because I like doing it, I steam/press all my wool and make lovely color coordinated stacks.

A couple more sources of wool felting inspiration:

Warm Fuzzies, by Betz White

This is the other book on felting that I own and it contains a lot of fun, do-able ideas. The projects are more finished/less artsy than the ones in the Sweater Chop Shop--equally inspiring, but in a slightly different direction.

Kris, who blogs at RESWEATER is one of those artisans who has expanded my repertoire of ideas of what can be made from felted wool. Check out her blog for lots of inspiration. She also sells sweaters for felting.

Edit: Here are a few great tips from Kris: A post which discusses working with wool blends and couple more comments:

Washable wool is treated, so that it will not felt. For felting, avoid the wording "machine washable", "washable wool" or "superwash". They should say "dry clean only" or "hand wash cold". Merino wool is the most common wool that is treated to not felt.

You do not need to felt a sweater until the knit disappears to be able to cut without unraveling. I like to "lightly felt" chunky knits, so they do not get so thick that you can't work with them.
hth!

And since I've been too sick this week study much or bake, I finished my intended Christmas ornaments this weekend. One thing we do have in Mafraq is pine-cones, so all my Christmas trimmings are focused on using that beautiful element to the utmost. The head, cap and scarf are made from wool scraps--the head from a sweater that didn't felt! Inspiration was found, where else. Oh, and I modified the hat template from Martha Stewart's site, here.

Pine Cone and Wool Elf (I've added eyes with a black maker since taking this picture)

Peace, Love, and Save the Wool

2011-12-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

It began so innocently, my obsession with felted wool, when I casually thumbed through a book my mom had checked out of the library:

Sweater Chop Shop

One Google search lead to another and I had soon amassed inspirations for dozens of felted wool projects. I was dazzled by the possibilities and ready for another bold textile endeavor, similar to my quilts from recycled denim. That was fall 2010, when I was still in the States, and soon after we returned to Jordan I began frequenting the Friday open market which specializes in used clothes from Europe and the U.S.

My good friend once referred to the used clothes market as her lily field, as in Consider the lilies of the field... But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you...Back in the day of raising small children with very few and then, expensive, imported clothes, we young mothers spent many hours at the used clothes market so as to clothe our families.

I knew that amongst the crowds, yelling hawkers, and pallets of old sweaters there were wool treasures to be found, and so the treasure hunting ensued. I purposed to spend as little money as possible so stuck to the cheaper stalls, buying my wool sweaters for approximately $.70 or $1.40 each. The fun of buying old wool sweaters to felt and repurpose (the new recycling ling0) is that they don't have to fit! I can use any sweater as long as it is made of good wool. A few especially fortuitous finds have yielded cashmere sweaters which actually do fit. My first cashmere sweaters. I found one for Dear Husband too.

I was perhaps a little enthusiastic about my wool treasures and by the end of the winter season, when the sweaters are no longer in the market, I had purchased and felted oh, about 100 sweaters--maybe a few more ? We don't own a dryer so felting the sweaters was done by placing each one in an old pillowcase (to keep fibers from mixing), secured with a strong rubber band, washed in batches of five or so in boiling water, and hung out to dry. Wool drys quickly and we have plenty of sunny winter days, so this was do-able.

Storage was a problem, sort of, so I temporarily stacked my wool (pressed and according to color) in our spare room. I can't really put my finger on exactly what I relished about this felting process, but I enjoyed it a lot and found a lot of satisfaction in gazing at and touching my colorful stacks--true confessions here. My kids thought I was a little nutty.

The purples and lavenders

the reds

and the naturals

But when I starting making things with the felted wool, my kids caught the vision. I began with a challenging project. Oldest daughter was home on her January break, thumbed through a purchased copy of the same book had set me off on felting and found something that she would dearly love me to make for her before returning to school. How could I refuse?

The design for this jumper came from The Sweater Chop Shop (link above) and was made with parts from four sweaters. The edge stitching and some of the piecing (waist band) was done by hand with DMC wool yarn. The side seams of the bodice and the skirt panels were sown by machine. (The author of the The Sweater Chop Shop, Crispina Ffrench, sells these sweater creations for a pretty penny on Etsy.)

I sent her back to school with a pair of wool mittens, lined and cuffed with cashmere:

Instructions and a pdf pattern for the mittens can be found at the Purl bee blog. Instead of knitting the cuffs, I use the ribbing of the cashmere sweater I use for the lining.

I made cashmere scarves, ruffling the edges with a simple zig-zag stitch, holding the wool taut as it went through the machine :

And more cashmere lined mittens for family and friends who live in cold places:

Next came the Kindle sleeves, so easy, inexpensive, and practical:

When Active Son was young, one of his all- time favorite toys was a cloth covered foam ball that he played with until it was falling apart. With his love for that ball as my inspiration, I made these wool covered balls for a sweet one-year old's birthday. Again, the pattern is found at the Purl bee:

Soon, Tayta got into re-purposing wool act. This jumper was a project we worked on together, loosely based on a design in The Sweater Chop Shop:

And then she was off and running on her own. Purses are her specialty. Here's one made for a young friend when a birthday present needed to be whipped up in a matter of a couple of hours:

And here is one of her favorites that she made for herself:

Now that winter is here, I have lots of projects in the works--too many, of course: more mittens, scarves, a cape for Tayta (almost finished), Christmas stockings, Christmas ornaments...What couldn't you make from felted wool? One young man we know ventured that well, you could even make a wool house--he lived in one growing up in Mongolia! Maybe next year...

House Tour~ The Salon

2011-11-25T02:54:00.000-08:00

Welcome to our "salon", also known as gurfit id'dayuf, or guest room. When we first moved to Jordan 22 years ago, I was put off by the formality of the Arab guest room. Popular furniture sets were in the style of of Louis XVI, with elaborate curlicues and gilding, and entire walls were draped in heavy fabric. One didn't purchase individual pieces of furniture, but rather a complete seven seat set (couch, love-seat, two chairs) all upholstered in the same fabric.

Our salon, as decorated here, is how I've made peace with the concept of a formal guest room. We had this set of furniture made (common here) about 15 years ago and I chose complimentary fabrics rather than just one for all the seats. In a bold move, I also mixed chair styles. Some of my friends really liked it and some others asked why I didn't use all the same fabric. This is the largest room in our home, and the dimensions/layout are almost exactly those of our previous home. While I have eschewed the opulent faux-crystal chandeliers, I have embraced the oriental carpets.

A view from the front sunroom entrance

Ideally the couch would be away from the door, and we may still move it, as the most inside seat, the one farthest from the door, is considered the most honorable place to seat a guest. Often a guest will begin to take the seat closest to the door, but the host who seeks to honor his guest should insist that he be seated away from the door. Nesting tables which are located between the two larger chairs are essential furniture as they are placed near the guests when refreshments are served. Here is a view taken from the other end of the salon:

The other end of our salon in our formal dining area. I am lacking the traditional, ornate china cupboard, but have instead an antique Damascus wedding chest, with which Dear Husband surprised me on our 20th wedding anniversary.

It is made of heavy oak (the lid is all one piece) and is inlaid with mother of pearl outlined with silver. Dear Husband once wondered aloud what we would do with it if we ever move overseas to which a male friend instantly replied, "Take it with you, of course." I told our friend thank you, of course!

The main modification we made to this room before we moved in was adding the large, Arab-style double door which opens up into our family room. We usually keep the doors open but can also close them when Dear Husband is entertaining male guests.

That completes the tour of the two rooms of our home that I keep picked-up and uncluttered all the time. The other rooms will likely need to be tidied before I photograph them!

A Perfect Autumn Stew

2011-11-15T10:24:00.000-08:00

We're enjoying a number of new dishes around here, thanks to Pinterest and this week's meander through the food page yielded this recipe for a delicious chicken stew with butternut squash and quinoa. Butternut squash isn't a staple in Jordanian markets, but I can hope that may be changing; I found lovely butternut squashes in the open air market last Friday--not even in the western-style supermarket! We all agreed that that this stew provided a full sensory experience: vivid autumnal colors, delicious blend of flavors, pleasing textures, and savory aroma.

Cookin' Canuck's fantastic recipe was my inspiration. I have added a couple of ingredients, adjusted a few quantities, and slightly modified the cooking process.

Chicken, Butternut Squash, and Quinoa Stew

Ingredients:
1 1/2 lbs (2 small) butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
4 cups water
1 1/2 lbs (approximately) boneless, skinless chicken breasts cut in bite-size pieces
2-3 Tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 1/2 tsp salt
5 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp (or a little more) red pepper flakes
1 28 oz (or 800 g) can diced tomatoes
1/2 cup uncooked quinoa (I like red. If you use white, rinse the quinoa well before cooking.)
3/4 cup sliced kalamata olives
1/3-1/2 cup minced fresh flat-leaf parsley

Cook quinoa in a small saucepan. I used red quinoa and cooked 1/2 cup quinoa in 1 cup water.
While quinoa is cooking, steam the squash until just tender, about 10 minutes. Set aside half the squash. Add 1 cup water to the remaining squash and mash well with the back of a fork.
Brown chicken in olive oil, adding salt, oregano, red pepper flakes, then onion and garlic as the liquid cooks out and the chicken browns.
When chicken and onion/garlic is cooked and browned, add three cups water and simmer a few minutes.
Add tomatoes, mashed squash w/water, cubed squash, and quinoa. Let stew simmer about 15 minutes.
Stir in olives and parsley, simmer a few more minutes and serve.

House Tour~The Sun Room

2011-11-08T10:57:00.000-08:00

We've been in our new home for two months now, boxes are all unpacked, furniture arranged, light fixtures installed; all that remains are a few pictures to be hung and a few window shades to install. This is our new home thanks dear friends whose home it was for 14 years before we moved to Mafraq. Planning to spend at least a year back in the States on an extended leave, they decided they wanted to give up their house and offered it to us, sparing us the laborious task of searching for a new apartment in a city where good rentals aren't readily available, let alone realty companies or want-ads to help you find them.

Our "flat" is the bottom floor of this traditional middle-aged Jordanian home. A young couple lives in one of the flats upstairs and the other is presently empty. As you can see, we have a large front yard with lots of dirt--which Dear Husband ordered in shortly after we moved. We brought the stones from our garden in Amman and a few perennials, which we are getting planted. (And, the trees were pruned today, after this picture was taken)

The big tree on the left is a bitter pomegranate--not sure why anyone would want one of those, but it is pretty--and the the little (look hard) tree on the right is a sweet pomegranate which Dear Husband recently planted. He likes symmetry! We have about five olive trees, seven or eight lemon trees, and a small pomelo tree. Oh, and a lowquat tree. I'll take another picture in the spring when, hopefully, the flowers will be more visible. I am so thankful for this yard! It is very unusual to have such a big yard in this city. When I look out the front windows, I feel like I am looking out into a park.

Into the house...

This is our second house in Jordan to have a south-facing sun room. I think every house should have a sun room, even a small one, and it is to this room that people gravitate for a few moments alone in the morning or afternoon with a book and a cup of tea. When Oldest Daughter was still at home, the sun room was her favorite place to practice the violin. I miss that.

This is the straight-on view when you come through our front door. The large double doors lead to the family room and the interior of the house.

To the right, is a narrower set of doors which lead into the sitting room, or guest salon and dining room. Traditional Arab homes have doors which close off guest rooms from the rest of the house so that men can visit the husband while the rest of the family, particularly the women, can carry on with living, uninhibited, in the rest of the house. Dear husband sometimes has guests which I never even see.

To the left is the sitting area of the sun room, and more plants. I'm not very clever with houseplants but I have learned of two that love direct sun: ivy and ficus. Thus I have have three ficus trees and three ivies happily thriving here. The nifty old black trunk (It has Ramallah via Jerusalem stamped on the side) on the left is my... linen closet. It really is. Jordanian homes usually don't have built in closets, instead we have cupboards, wardrobes, and trunks for storage.

This photo shows the the bright sunlight steaming through the sun room window. The bars on the windows are for protection. Robberies are rare and they say that the iron bars are the reason why. I'm used to them now and they even seem kind of decorative. They also offer protection to small children who like to hang out upper-story windows.

This is my new-ish succulent garden. Two or the plants are aloe-vera, which we really do use to sooth burns and other skin irritations. The others are new to the market here and I jumped on the succulent-fad band wagon a bought a few for our home. They remind me of my California childhood, so for me it is a retro-garden. I'm hoping to plant a succulent garden outside this spring.

Autumn Accumulation

2011-11-04T09:23:00.000-07:00

The hardest thing about letting the blog go for awhile is jumping back in again; so many thoughts and events have accumulated, but it is beyond me to blog them all. I'll just make this about our autumn, which is really not much of a season at all in Jordan, and try to keep going.

I love the weather patterns in Jordan, arid and warm, so I am not really complaining, but I do miss autumn. No stunning golden and crimson leaves to intoxicate my vision, just the lovely fall-ish golden sunlight coming through the windows on a fabric-leaf wreath a dear friend so lovingly made for us when she found out we had no fall leaves.

We do some leaf color changes in Jordan: from gray to green. After a long rainless summer, the accumulation of dust casts a grayish hue over the landscape; everyone rejoices when the first rain falls. We've received a few good downpours in the last 24 hours and this morning, between cloudbursts, I spent some time walking around the garden, admiring the green leaves which have been covered with dust since we moved in. We recently spread bags of sheep manure in the garden, so it smelled fresh, indeed!

With no further aideu, we head into the winter/rainy season, which on one hand we hope will be very rainy, but on the other we hope will not be too terribly cold. Homes generally have poor insulation, and are difficult and expensive to heat, but a beautiful spring will make it all worthy it. Though we don't really have an autumn, the Jordanian countryside puts on a riotous show of wildflower color in the spring if the rains are abundant. It is Jordan's most beautiful season of all.

We are cozily secure in our new home in Mafraq, and now just have minor things to do, such as hanging pictures and painting mirror frames. Tayta and I have been on a creative adrenalin high since being introduced to Pinterest a few weeks (don't click this link unless you have some free time.) After letting myself be sucked into it's vortex and swirled around for a couple of weeks, I found my equilibrium and can now spend a very modest amount of time on Pinterest, and find a lot of useful DIY, craft, garden, recycling, cooking and baking ideas. A couple recent results of all the creative inspiration: this sweet needed-for-ages sewing machine cover that I made from an over-sized European pillowcase I found in the used clothes market. I love the colors!

These simple garden markers were made from a recycled yogurt container:

An then there are the pine cone decorations and some really great recipes we've tried...

We continue to make new friends and otherwise get involved in the Mafraq community. Artist Son has been playing drums for the Arab church we are attending and he and Tayta will go with the shabibi, or youth of the church on an outing this week. I've been spending too many (sometimes angst filled) hours searching out college options for Artist Son as he prepares sit for his last SAT exam and apply to colleges. I can now fill out the online scholarship/financial aid calculators with one hand tied behind my back. I'm thankful that we seem to have narrowed the field to three schools, two of which require portfolio submissions and artist statements. Remembering is important: God has so faithfully and generously provided for Oldest Daughter and Active Son. He will provide for Artist Son as well.

Baking with Olive Oil

2011-10-06T04:24:00.001-07:00

Before moving to the Middle East twenty three years ago, I don't recall eating much olive oil (any?) and I certainly never cooked or baked with it. That was back in the day of Wesson Corn Oil and affordable, readily available olive oil hadn't yet hit the mass market in the U.S., at least not in Idaho.

When we moved to Jordan in 1988, I began to learn the many uses for olive oil. Newly settled in our first apartment, I came home one day by myself and was unable to get my key to work in the big metal door on the outside of our building. Observing my struggle, a neighbor man told me to wait minute; he came back with a small jar of olive oil, some of which he took in his mouth, and then proceeded to put it in the lock. The lock yielded to my key with ease. And though this treatment was never administered to my children, infants were traditional rubbed with olive oil shortly after birth to "strengthen" them.

We've enjoyed olive oil as long as we've lived in Jordan but now that I've begun baking with it--it is the only cooking fat I use besides butter--we are enjoying it a lot, as in 20 liters (about five gallons) and counting, so far this year. Husband purchases our olive oil as many Jordanians do, by the "taniki" or tank.

Our comes from the olive groves of Mafraq, and now that we've moved to Mafraq we walk in the mornings through the same groves which produce our oil. (These groves are on the property which belongs to the hospital where Dear Husband works and are not open to the public, making them the perfect place for walking in the early morning. There is a paved road around the perimeter.)

Mid-October usually marks the beginning of harvest season. These olives look ready. We've a few olive trees in our new yard so perhaps we'll harvest those for pressing--they're looking rather puny after a summer of neglect, but every little bit helps.

Recipes which use olive oil abound and lately I've been looking for/trying recipes for cakes which call for olive oil. Below are three which I've found to produce delicious cakes:

Walnut Olive Oil Cake

This is a very simple, rustic cake but oh, so smooth and almost creamy in texture. My whole family loves this one.

The recipe comes from the New York Times, 2011, but I can't find the original link. I've only slightly adapted it.

2 cups flour
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon allspice
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup ground walnuts (I grind mine in the blender)
3 eggs
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon rice or cider vinegar
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a large mixing bowl (I use my Bosch), whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, allspice, cinnamon, and ground walnuts. Add eggs, one at a time, then milk, vinegar, and olive oil. Beat just until thoroughly mixed. Pour batter into a greased 9 inch by 13 inch baking pan. Bake 30-45 minutes until golden and a toothpick comes out clean. Cool slightly before serving.

Orange Cardamom Cake

This recipe comes from Cooking Light, December 2007. I've adapted it by substituting olive oil for canola oil and I've increased the grated orange rind.

3 cups plus 1 Tablespoon flour
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 3/4 teaspoons ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup fresh orange juice
2/3 cup olive oil
2-3 Tablespoons grated orange rind (about 1 orange)
2 teaspoons grated lemon rind
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 large eggs

Glaze:
1 cup powdered sugar
3 teaspoons fresh orange juice
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

Preheat oven to 350 F. Grease a Bundt pan with cooking spray and dust with 1 tablespoon flour.

In a large mixing bowl combine flour, sugar, baking powder, cardamom, cinnamon, and salt. If you are mixing by hand, make a small well in the center of flour mixture and add the orange juice, olive oil, orange rind, lemon rind, vanilla, and eggs. I used my Bosch and so just added the wet ingredients to the dry and mixed until well combined, scraping down the sides as necessary.

Pour batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 50 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in pan for about 5 minutes and then remove the cake from the pan.

Drizzle glaze over the warm cake.

Marmalade Cake

I knew that any cake with an entire orange, an entire lemon (minus pulp and seeds), and ground toasted almonds had to be delicious. It was. This recipe comes from Orangette. Go there for pictures and the original recipe.

1 small to medium orange
1 lemon
6 ounces almonds
1 cup flour
1 Tablespoon baking powder
4 large eggs at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups sugar
2/3 cup olive oil
powdered sugar

Prepping the ingredients:

Place the orange and lemon in a saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Drain citrus, and cool.

While the citrus is simmering, you can toast the almonds. Place almonds on an ungreased baking sheet in a 325 F oven and toast about 10-15 minutes. Watch carefully so as not to burn them, but don't remove them too soon. Almonds should begin turning golden brown (not dark!) and smell toasted. Cool toasted almonds and then grind them in a food processor.

Preheat oven to 350 F, and grease a 9 inch round springform pan.

Cut the orange in half or quarters and remove seeds. Cut the lemon in half and scoop out all the pulp along with the seeds. Place citrus in the food processor and process until very finely chopped.

Combine flour and baking powder in a small bowl. Combine eggs and salt in a larger mixing bowl and beat until foamy. Gradually beat in the sugar and then fold in the flour mixture. Next, add the citrus, almonds, and olive oil, and beat on low speed just until blended thoroughly. Do not over mix. Pour the batter into the prepared springform pan and bake for about 1 hour or until a wooden pick comes out clean. Cool the cake in its pan on a cooling rack. When cake is cool, remove the sides of the pan. Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

This cake keeps well for a few days; like a good soup, the flavors improve after sitting a day or two. Unlike soup, the cake should be stored at room temperature, covered with plastic wrap.

Remembering in Full Color

2011-09-30T22:50:00.000-07:00

Such a beautiful picture of summer Mr. Grahame renders with his words:

In the winter time the Rat slept a great deal, retiring early and rising late. During his short day he sometimes scribbled poetry or did other small domestic jobs about the house; and, of course, there were always animals dropping in for a chat, and consequently there was a good deal of story-telling and comparing notes on the past summer and all its doings.

Such a rich chapter it had been, when one came to look back on it all! With illustrations so numerous and so very highly coloured! The pageant of the river bank had marched steadily along, unfolding itself in scene-pictures that succeeded each other in stately procession. Purple loosestrife arrived early, shaking luxuriant tangled locks along the edge of the mirror whence its own face laughed back at it. Willow-herb, tender and wistful, like a pink sunset cloud, was not slow to follow. Comfrey, the purple hand-in-hand with the white, crept forth to take its place in the line; and at last one morning the diffident and delaying dog-rose stepped delicately on the stage, and one knew, as if string-music had announced it in stately chords that strayed into a gavotte, that June at last was here. One member of the company was still awaited; the shepherd-boy for the nymphs to woo, the knight for whom the ladies waited at the window, the prince that was to kiss the sleeping summer back to life and love. But when meadow-sweet, debonair and odorous in amber jerkin, moved graciously to his place in the group, then the play was ready to begin….

~ Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows, Chapter 3, The Wild Wood

Pure poetry.

New Rhythms

2011-09-16T06:49:00.001-07:00

~morning serenade of the Jordanian national anthem (Long Live the King) by the boys school across the street

~frozen lemonade cups in the afternoon
Such a simple idea (thanks Trish) and so amazingly refreshing. If you are aren't patient enough for it to thaw a little, you can put forth the effort to shave the lemon ice. We've enjoyed one every afternoon since we've were introduced to them, and we try to keep enough in the freezer for drop-in guests.

~the gentle and rhythmic cooing of a nearby dove

~dusting, dusting, and more dusting
Living in Amman for many years I am no stranger to dust, but it is mild compared to Mafraq dust. A dusting cloth mostly did the job in Amman, but since moving to Mafraq we have armed ourselves with the bouquet of microfiber dusters shown below:

Two large dusters for general use with one hanging at the ready in the kitchen. Tayta and Artist Son have their own smaller duster for their room and I keep another small one by the computer.

~the whir of the fan over the stove and a new-to-me dishwasher
I haven't had an stove fan or dishwasher since moving to Jordan so after washing dishes for a family of six and hundreds of guests by hand, a dishwasher almost seems superfluous, but my friends who have one tell me it most definitely is not. Tayta concurs. A generous US embassy friend gifted me hers when her husband finished his Amman post this summer. When we first installed it a Swiss electrician, who works in Mafraq and was checking our electricity, pronounced it unsafe (putting out a high unprotected voltage, or something like that) and didn't think he could fix it but with a couple hours of work and a new part, he did. Thank you Christoph!

~a room with a view--actually, a few
Guarding our front garden wall stands a sentinel of green, albeit dusty, pine trees, and lemon and pomegranate trees refresh the views from bedroom and kitchen windows. Behind the garden wall and trees: more dust, lots of empty chip bags and candy wrappers from the students of the boys school and a graffiti covered concrete wall. I'm thankful for the trees and for the foresight of our landlord.

Mafraq or Bust

2011-09-11T12:44:00.000-07:00

Well, we just about did bust, but by God's grace we are are now living in Mafraq, Jordan.
Located in the northern desert of Jordan, it is about an hour and a half away from our old home in the capital of Amman. I'm finishing most days completely out of steam but I wanted to let friends, family, and other passersby, know that we are alive and mostly well--just MIA for awhile.

Our move was made two weeks ago today, though Dear Husband has been faithfully working on our new home, himself and directing laborers, for over a month. He's also hauled many of our belongs, including a truckload of garden plants and rocks--bless him!--before the moving vans arrived on August 29.

The first 48 hours in our new home were a grueling blur, but we have since passed through survival, then exhaustion mode. I am thanking God for warm water, a working washing machine, a garden space full of potential, lemon trees out my kitchen and bedroom windows, a hard working husband, happy kids, and new kitchen cupboards--everything but the kitchen sink, which will hopefully be installed this week.

I'm also thankful for the many friends who have packed boxes, made a meal, given us an internet fix, and sent words of encouragements and PRAYER. And, thanks, Suzanne, for these words form the movie Hope Floats (which I haven't seen!)

Beginnings are usually hard
Endings are usually sad
It's what's in the middle that counts.

That about sums it up right now

It takes a heap o'living'

2011-08-19T22:44:00.000-07:00

As we prepare to move from our home of ten years and from the city that has been home for 23, many of the sentiments conveyed in this poem mirror my own. Thank you, Mr. Guest. And thank you, Tayta, for bringing this poem to my attention . You are so good at making those poetic connections which bring beauty into our home.

Home
~Edgar A. Guest

It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.

Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it;
Within the walls there's got t' be some babies born, and then
Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men;
And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part
With anything they ever used -- they've grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumb marks on the door.

Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh
An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh;
An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come,
An' close the eyes o' her that smiled,
an' leave her sweet voice dumb.
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart,
an' when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified;
An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories
O' her that was an' is no more -- ye can't escape from these.

Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play,
An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin' 'em each day;
Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear
Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes' t' run
The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun;
Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome:
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.

I wish I had the time to insert meaningful images which play through my mind as I read this poem. Someday. As important as it is to remember, right now I must use what emotional and physical energy I have to close up this home well and let my heart fill with anticipation for the next place we will make home.

Say Hello to the World for Us

2011-08-18T01:16:00.000-07:00

I can still picture our new friend, Micha, sitting at our dining room table, crouched over his Mac for hours at a time, watching, listening, thinking, editing. Last month Micha accompanied my daughter, Lauren, and fellow violinist, Holly Jenkins, as they performed, led workshops, and gave lessons in the Occupied Palestinian Territories and Jordan, quietly and unobtrusively capturing the defining images and ideas of their music project. Yesterday he released his short film. A few words from its creator:

This is not just another film about the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. There are enough films out there, which attempt to show the conflict in its perplexing and ponderous entirety. They end up, inevitably, dwelling on the injustices and the violence perpetrated on both sides, on refugee children and IDF (Israeli Defense Force) soldiers. Surely, it is important to document these realities of the conflict, for the world to see and assess. However, when filmmakers take this approach, they all too often forget that they are dealing with people and not just an issue. Righteousness takes the place of compassion. As a result, they dwell on the ugliness and not the beauty of region, proffer a message of desperation and not of hope.

Yet, there is much beauty and hope.

"Say hello to the world for us" takes a compassionate and searching look at the people behind the conflict, through the eyes and music of two young, maybe slightly naive, but intensely passionate violinists. It follows their travels from Amman to Bethlehem and back, as they perform and give workshops to eager children along the way. As the trip unfolds, the film offers rare glimpses into the lives of sundry Palestinians--from the old shopkeeper in Bethlehem, to a group of lively boys from Al-Azzeh Camp. In all of this, "Say hello to the world for us" does not seek to explain the conflict; rather, it shows the people who are caught in the midst of it, struggling silently to live and prosper.

~Micha Hilliard

Say Hello to the World for Us

As I watched the film, a new wave of thankfulness to God for calling us to this region of the world, washed over me. Amidst the hatred and strife there is yet beauty and hope. God has not forgotten and he neither slumbers nor sleeps. Thank you, Micha, Lauren, and Holly, for the reminder.

One Ingredient Ice Cream--Really!

2011-08-11T03:23:00.000-07:00

This is one of those revolutionary recipes which changed the way we prepare food and eat it--right up there with Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I found it a couple weeks ago while perusing a helpful food blog: Handle the Heat, but by the looks of the comments on this recipe, it seems that dessert secret has been out for awhile.

The Mystery Ingredient: Bananas

So, everyone who does not have an aversion or an allergy to bananas should be totally excited about this recipe. All you need is bananas, a freezer (of course) and a food processor. The bananas should be ripe, but not too ripe. This is not the recipe for your I-wouldn't-eat-these-but-maybe-I-can-make-something-with-them bananas.

Simply cut peeled bananas into bite-sized pieces and freeze them on a flat pan/cookie sheet. Depending on your freezer this will take a couple/few hours. Once you have frozen banana pieces you are ready to make ice cream, and this will take under five minutes.

Simply pulse the frozen banana pieces in a food processor. (Take care not to overload your processor. Depending on the amount I am processing, I do a couple batches.) If your bananas are very frozen they will ricochet off the side of your processor for several pulses before they begin to transform into smooth, creamy ice cream. I move from pulsing to continuous processing toward the end, and use a spatula to work the remaining banana pieces into the ice cream--when the processor is turned off.

The texture of this ice cream really is smooth and creamy, just like ice cream, but without the cream and sugar. As you can see by the picture, we are enjoying our banana ice cream (almost daily) with a few add-ons: homemade chocolate syrup (yes, there is sugar in this) and chopped salted peanuts.

Tayta's Chocolate Syrup (not as sweet as Hershey's)

2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
3/4 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Combine cocoa, sugar, water, and milk in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Let boil for one minute, remove from heat and stir in vanilla extract. Let cool and store in the refrigerator.

My Summer Salad

2011-08-09T08:40:00.000-07:00

Last summer my friend, Brenda, informed me that every summer she makes a new salad recipe which she then designates as her Summer Salad. Nice idea. I am officially dubbing this Simply Delicious salad as my 2011 Summer Salad.

I knew I'd love this salad when I saw the ingredients as it has all the flavors I love: tomato, chickpea, mint, olive oil, and of course, basil. I've tweaked this recipe and come up with:

Tomato and Chickpea Salad

3 cups (or so) cherry or grape tomatoes. Depending on their size I cut them in half or leave them whole.
2 15 oz cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed
a handful or two of fresh basil, chopped
some fresh mint, chopped
olive oil
balsamic vinegar
coarse sea salt

Toss all tomatoes, chickpeas, basil, and mint together. Drizzle/dress with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and sprinkle with coarse sea salt according to taste.

Mabruuk! (Congratulations)

2011-08-07T02:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Husband completed his Master of Divinity degree just days before we traveled to the States last June. At the time, life was a swirl of activity as Active Son graduated from high school and we helped him wrap up his life in Jordan in preparation of moving to the States from college--not to mention transitioning our family back to the US for seven months--and so we assumed that Dear Husband would not walk in the graduation ceremony to be held later that summer. No matter--what was important was that he was finished!

The opportunity to complete his MDiv was a gift from God: Dear Husband had completed a three-year masters of biblical studies + ministry degree 23 years prior, however it wasn't accredited. Dr. David Martin, who was the academic dean at Jordan Evangelical Theological Seminary (JETS) at the time Dear Husband approached the seminary about working on a degree, gathered up some of Dear Husband's academic work done in the States and some done in Middle East in the interim years, had him sit for some language tests, and then awarded him 48 of the 96 credits needed for his MDiv.

Dear Husband plugged away, part-time, on the remaining credits, taking regular and intensive courses from Jordanian and visiting US and European professors as time allowed. His favorite classes were Old Testament courses and Hebrew--much easier now that he knows Arabic, he says. He was allowed to submit papers in English but about half of his course work (reading, exams) was completed in Arabic. Dear Husband's very last course was Eschatology, in Arabic. Working so hard to keep up and succeed in this course, he was waking up at 4:30am with the dawn call to prayer--not voluntarily--and wasn't able to fall back asleep.

Due to circumstances, JETS didn't hold their graduation last summer, so last year's graduates were invited to walk this summer. With Dear Husband's completion of his degree a year past, there wasn't much motivation on his part for participating in a graduation ceremony. Dear Husband even contemplated missing it for a softball game (and the boys would have except that the other team providentially forfeited the day before). In the end, it was an unexpected celebration and official recognition of all the hard work of study that Dear Husband had so diligently completed and I am so glad that we were able to attend the graduation together.

The proud, though small family

I had Tatya grab this shot to contrast the Arab family shot with our own. It looked like the grandmothers came in from the village (note the head scarves). This young graduate had the largest family in attendance and thus received the loudest applause, yells, and undulations. Our dear friend undulated (shrill celebratory noise made by rolling the tongue) for Dear Husband so we weren't completely pathetic.

Wayne Grudem's Systematic Theology in Arabic

This was Dear Husband's graduation present from a church in Texas who donated them to JETS. He says he looks forward to reading them.

Down to Size

2011-07-31T11:37:00.000-07:00

Today I'm loving the feeling of downsizing but I haven't always felt so cheery about the prospect or the process. For the last six months we have been slowly preparing to move house, and that for the first time in ten years. When we moved to our present house we were making the conscious decision to upsize: homeschooling four growing children who needed places to study, play, practice instruments, entertain friends, etc. And then there was the growing number of books we seemed to be accumulating.

One word to describe the last ten years of our family's life: full. Full days (and nights), full relationships, and, I finally had to admit it this January, full cupboards, wardrobes, drawers, and Rubbermaid tubs. I can empathize with essayist Anne Fadiman's recollection of the their pre-move New York City closets (only we don't have closets, but free standing wardrobes, trunks, and whatever else I can find to store things in) :

"Our (closets) held layers we hadn't seen for years. New Yorkers, lacking attics and basements and garages, treat their closets like trash compactors (or, to put it more charitably like the squeezing machines that turn duck breasts into canard presse')."

At least I can be thankful that I don't have an attic, basement or garage to clean out.

When I first realized the scope of my downsizing task I did a fair amount of whining and moping. How was I expected to live without _____ ?? And, where would I put____ ?? Dear Husband was firm. He drew a floor plan complete with measurements and informed me that if didn't fit, we couldn't take it. Made sense, but I still whined a bit. Tayta, ever the comforter, volunteered to absorb two bookshelves into her bedroom ("I think bookshelves a nice decor item.") and Artist Son agreed to take another. We're still not sure where the ping-pong table will go, but that is Dear Husband's concern.

Today I sold the last two pieces of furniture that we are not taking with us and both were picked up this afternoon.

This large chest freezer was often full during the past ten years. I emptied out before we went to the States last summer and didn't refill it when we returned. So far, so good.

This wooden shelf was a bit of a sentimental piece: though not a carpenter, Dear Husband crafted it for us 23 years ago when we moved to Jordan. Our budget was slim, furniture was expensive, and wood furniture was extremely expensive. Our landlord had an empty room under his building and let Dear Husband set up a little workshop. He made our first bed, too, though that was passed along many years ago. Everything I want to keep on the shelf has to be absorbed someplace else--I'm still working on that.

Only the actual packing remains, but after all the sorting and purging it really doesn't seem so ominous. I laugh at the packing.

Summer Wildflowers

2011-07-27T00:37:00.001-07:00

Though summer is definitely not prime wildflower spotting season in Jordan, there are a very few summer blooms breaking up the monotonous dusty brown landscapes. Both these wildflowers are found in my west Amman neighborhood, along roadsides, and in fields.

Echinops polyceras

The Caper bush is an interesting and unique Mediterranean plant which I have written about here. Look for them growing through the cracks and crevices of limestone walls and rocks.

Capparis spinosa

Szechuan Style Noodles with Chicken

2011-07-26T02:19:00.000-07:00

If my blog seems to be morphing into a food blog, the preponderance of posts of late being recipes, it is because much of this summer has been about preparing food; kids are home from college, kids college friends are visiting kids home from college, and we're enjoying having friends in for meals and coffees during these summer months when our schedules are accommodating.

Szechuan Style Noodles is a favorite family dish which I made last week for eight. Lauren's friend, Holly, requested this recipe, making it a good candidate for my blog. My recipe is adapted from a recipe shared by friend, Alyse, who credits Helen Chen's Chinese Home Cooking.

This recipe makes a lot but if you're not feeding company, you'll enjoy the leftovers--perfect for lunch. And if you've been reading this blog for awhile you've likely discerned one of my cooking philosophies: Why make a little when you can make a lot?

Szechuan Style Noodles with Chicken
serves 8 hearty appetites

Ingredients:

1 1/2 pounds thin spaghetti
3 Tablespoons sesame oil
2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut in small pieces (see picture)

1/2 cup tahini (sesame seed paste)
1/4 cup sesame oil
4 teaspoons grated or finely chopped ginger
2 large cloves garlic (or to taste)
2 Tablespoons rice vinegar
1/3 cup light soy sauce (not to be confused with light salt soy sauce)
4 teaspoons sugar
red pepper flakes to taste

1 cup thinly sliced green onion
few handfuls of cilantro (unless you are Holly : )
1/4 cup toasted sesame seeds

Cook noodles in a large pot of boiling water just until tender. Drain the noodles, rinsing them with cold water. Drain thoroughly and mix with 3 T. sesame oil; place the noodles on a large platter or in a large bowl--my Italian pasta platter/bowl is perfect for this dish.

Saute the chicken pieces in a little oil with some spices. I gave the chicken a few shakes of a prepared Monterey Chicken spice mixture that I had on hand, but you could also use salt and pepper, a little lemon pepper, etc. Set cooked chicken aside.

Combine the next set of ingredients (tahini through red pepper flakes) in the blender and process until smooth. Pour over the noodles and toss to coat. Arrange chicken on top of the noodles and sprinkle with green onions, cilantro and sesame seeds. Since this is served at room temperature, you still have time to make a side dish:

Carrot Salad with Chinese Dressing:

1 or 1 1/2 pounds of carrots, peeled and grated (I like the coarser grate for this salad)

Dressing: (And most of these ingredients are already on your counter, unless you are a very tidy cook)
5 T rice vinegar
2 T water
1 T olive oil
1 T lemon juice
1 T sesame oil
1/4-1/2 tsp pepper
1 T sugar
optional: 1-2 T toasted sesame seeds.

Mix dressing ingredients and toss with carrots.

Art Blog

2011-07-06T04:32:00.000-07:00

Artist Son, aka Andrew, aka Drew the Artist, is launching an art blog where he plans to share his AP Studio Drawing course experience through words and drawings. If you are interested in that sort of thing you can find him here. I'm opting for the email subscription--available on the right-hand toolbar.

Humble Harvest

2011-07-04T10:13:00.001-07:00

Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram;
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' th' sun,
And with him rises weeping; these are flow'rs
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age.
~~~

Shakespeare, Winter's Tale

I am particularly taken with this humble harvest of hidcote lavender as it is the first harvest of two small bushes I began from seeds a couple springs ago.

When Life Gives You Plums

2011-06-29T09:45:00.001-07:00

I was not expecting such a bounty. We have two small plum trees in our garden, planted by our landlord; one was planted about four years ago, the other, just two. Though young, both were covered with small plums this summer. We had been gathering small bowls full as they ripened--just enough to snack on, really--but, the other day I noticed that most of the plums were ripe so asked Artist Son to take out a bowl and pick the rest of the tree. An hour later, helped by a ladder and Tayta, he delivered four large bowls of plums to my kitchen table.

I had never done anything with sweet plums but eat them fresh--that seemed the best use of them and I'd never before had very many at a time. It was Tayta who encouraged me that we could "do something" with them. "Plum cobbler and jam!" she suggested. She did a little searching online and once I realized we wouldn't need to peel them I was ready to begin processing plums--really, very easy. One of the first things we admired was their lovely colors. You don't notice those so much when you are biting into them rather than cutting them.

Our small plum halves and thirds seemed just the right size to use in a the Strawberry Summer Cake recipe below, so we did. I think we like the plum version best--just the perfect tartness. We've made (and eaten) two of these so far.

Plum Summer Cake

And, who knew that plum jam was so delicious?! We found out. PBJs are in renewed demand at our house and we've already eaten nearly two pints of the 20 I canned this week. (I used Sure-Jell Premium Fruit Pectin for Less or No Sugar Needed Recipes. Cook jam recipes are included in the box.)

Plum Cobbler

Finally, we made a giant plum cobbler to enjoy with company on Tuesday, and I'll cobble the rest of the harvest tomorrow. This was our first ever plum cobbler and it was delicious! In the picture it looks similar to the cake, but there is a lot more syrupy fruit at the bottom. All the years I've lived in Jordan, the dessert I've most missed is blackberry cobbler. Plum cobbler is a very good and even close substitute. I only wish I had discovered it 20 years ago. This cobbler served 12.

Plum Cobbler for Company

10 cups fresh plums, pitted and sliced
1 3/4 cup sugar
3 Tablespoons cornstarch
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Combine the sugar, cornstarch and cinnamon in a large bowl. Add the prepared plums and mix gently. Place the fruit mixture in a large baking dish--I used a deep 9 inch X 13 inch pan.

1/2 cup sugar
3 cups flour
4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup butter (1 1/2 sticks)
3/4 cup milk
3 eggs

Combine sugar, flour, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Cut in butter with a fork until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in the milk and egg until just moistened. Drop the batter by spoonfuls on the plums. Bake for approximately 35-45 minutes at 350 degrees F, making sure the batter, especially in the middle, is done. Serve with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream. Delicious! But then I'm very partial to baked fruit desserts.

The Brotherhood

2011-06-22T05:25:00.000-07:00

One of the things I so appreciate about Dear Husband is the way he has faithfully discipled our sons into a brotherhood. Yes, he is still the father and they, the sons, but they are also, all three, friends and brothers in Christ. It brings me great joy to see how they enjoy each other in a new and deeper way as Active Son and Artist Son mature, and now, as Active Son has been away at college and returned home for the first time.

Dear Husband has taught his sons to love of God and his Word, and to that end they faithfully meet together for study and prayer each week. And, as guys, they like to DO things together--lots of sweaty, dirty laundry has been a blessed part of our family's heritage. Last week they hiked together through Wadi Hasa, along the Zered Brook, the biblical border between Moab and Edom. Dear Husband considers it the most beautiful river gorge in Jordan. Active Son has hiked it twice before with Scouts, but this was Artist Son's maiden trip.

The Brotherhood in Wadi Hasa

Today, Active Son and Artist Son finish up a week of coaching 10-13 year old kids at baseball camp; I've loved hearing their after-hours discussions of the kids and how they can help them improve their skills. This afternoon, as they once again filled their water bottles and headed out the kitchen door together to summer softball practice, I realized what a defining scene this has been in life of the Brotherhood. Thank you, Lord, for your faithfulness to these men.

My Summer Cake

2011-06-20T13:39:00.000-07:00

Deb Perlman of Smitten Kitchen hopes that her Strawberry Summer Cake will be my summer cake. I say she gets her wish; this cake was so simple and so delicious.

Strawberry Summer Cake
Adapted, only slightly, from Martha Stewart

6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups flour -OR- 3/4 cup flour and 3/4 cup barley flour, which Deb recommends for it's "silkiness" and "subtle creamy, nuttiness" I had some barley on hand, which I ground in my neglected wheat grinder so I happily followed Deb's recommendation. Superb!
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 pound (450 grams) strawberries, hulled and halved

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter deep dish pie pan or a 9 inch (smallest of my set of three) spring-form pan.

Whisk flour, baking powder and salt together in a small bowl. In a larger bowl, beat butter sugar until pale and fluffy with an electric mixer, about 3 minutes. Mix in egg, milk and vanilla until just combined. Add flour mixture gradually, mixing until just smooth.

Pour batter into prepared pan. Arrange strawberries, cut side down, on top of batter, as closely as possible in a single layer, overlapping them slightly if necessary. Sprinkle an additional 2 tablespoons sugar over berries.

Bake cake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees F, then reduce oven temperature to 325 degrees F and bake cake until golden brown and a tester comes out free of wet batter, about 60 minutes. Cool in pan on a rack. Cut into wedges. Serve with lightly sweetened, lightly whipped cream.

{Edit} We've ended up baking our cakes for over 60 minutes--one, more like 90.

This cake was the perfect accompaniment to a morning coffee visit in the garden with a dear friend--the rest of the cake was polished off by my family (before noon) who requested I make another one. I'm thinking to try it with peaches...

Tour for Peace Begins

2011-06-16T20:33:00.000-07:00

We were glad to welcome Lauren's violinist friend, Holly, to our home this week as they prepare to begin their musical Tour for Peace. Micha, the videographer, arrives tonight.

Besides the requisite practicing, Lauren and Holly have spent many hours this weeks in "arts administration", writing emails and making phone calls to finalize their arrangements in the West Bank. They plan to leave for Nablus on Monday but before they leave they will begin their tour by sharing their music and interacting with Jordanian students participating in a cultural exchange program sponsored by East West Initiatives.

Holly, Lauren, and Micha are blogging at Tour for Peace .

Almost

2011-05-30T01:55:00.000-07:00

The blog is mostly empty, but the nest is full...

The college students are home for the summer!

...the garden is in bloom, providing a restful haven of inspiration for students trying to finish spring studies...

...the bougainvillea is just beginning to bloom...

...as is the fragrant jasmine...

...the plums are beginning to ripen...

...and the air is full of the melodious songs of blackbirds and the longed-for music of Oldest Daughter's violin.

Sweet summer is just around the corner...

Holiday Fare~Two Recipes

2011-05-18T06:08:00.000-07:00

These dishes aren't everyday fare but they are favorites that we enjoy on special occasions. We brought both to Easter lunch with friends last month and both recipes were requested--I didn't forget, but just got a little sidetracked.

This is our favorite salad and on most days the main ingredients can be found in our fridge and pantry; we enjoy living in a land of inexpensive and delicious feta cheese and tomatoes! I posted this recipe a couple years ago but I'm re-posting it as I've made a few corrections/modifications. It is adapted from Women's Weekly Cooking Class, Middle Eastern.

Tomato, Feta, and Green Onion Salad

1 lb. feta cheese (you could use less)
about 6 tomatoes, depending on size
1/3 cup olive oil
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
3 green onions, finely chopped
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint (or more if you've got a potful in your garden)
about 1/2 cup chopped walnuts, toasted
3 teaspoons sesame seeds, toasted
Coarse sea salt to taste

1. Cut tomatoes into wedges, remove seeds, and chop tomatoes finely.
2. Whisk oil and juice in small bowl until combined; add onions and mint. Mix well.
3. Combine the mint mixture with the tomatoes and let marinate for about 1 hour, but I've also made this without time to marinade and it is still delicious.
4. Crumble the cheese in (about) 1/2 inch chunks on a plate or platter.
5. Spoon tomato mixture over the crumbled cheese and sprinkle with the toasted walnuts and sesame seeds. Salt to taste.

Carrot Cake with Brown Butter Cream Cheese Frosting and Glazed Nut Topping

This is a good carrot cake recipe but it is the frosting which makes this cake so delicious. I vividly remember when carrot cakes with cream cheese frosting came into vogue in the 1970s: My mom made one and I found the cream cheese frosting irresistible--so irresistible that I put my finger on the frosted cake for "just a taste" so many times that I created a margin of un-frosted cake around the circumference of the pan. Yes, I was found out. This frosting is even better as it starts with browned butter. Think toffee/cream cheese frosting. I didn't lick the cake this time, but I do confess to eating a few teaspoons from the mixing bowl.

Carrot Cake
Adapted from Sam's Famous Carrot Cake recipe:
3 eggs
3/4 cup buttermilk
3/4 cup oil
1 1/2 cup sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 cups finely grated carrots
1 cup walnuts, chopped
1 8 oz can crushed pineapple w/juice

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour two layer 8 or 9 inch layer cake pans. In a bowl, mix together flour, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon. In a larger bowl or mixer combine eggs, buttermilk, oil, sugar, and vanilla. Mix well. Add flour mixture and mix well. Add carrots and walnuts, whisking/mixing just until blended. Pour into prepared pans. Bake at 350 degrees until golden and toothpick comes out clean--about 35 minutes (but Tayta's not sure. The original recipe had it one larger pan baking for one hour.) Cool the cakes about 20 minutes on a cooling rack and then remove from the pans.

Brown Butter Frosting
1/2 cup unsalted butter
8 oz. cream cheese, at room temperature
1/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1 1/4 cup powdered sugar

Melt the butter in a heavy bottom sauce pan over medium heat. Cook, swirling the pan occasionally until the butter turns a nutty golden-brown, about 4 minutes. Pour into a small bowl and let stand until the solids settle at the bottom of the bowl, about 5 minutes. Carefully transfer the bowl to the freezer and chill until just firm, about 20-30 minutes. Using a spoon, carefully scrape the butter from he bowl, leaving the browned solids at the bottom. Discard the solids.

Using an electric mixer, beat the butter, cream cheese, and brown sugar on medium-high speed until light in color and the brown sugar has dissolved, about 2 minutes. Gradually beat in the powdered sugar and continue beating until fluffy, 1-2 minutes. Note bene: once when Tayta made this we had to add a little more powdered sugar so that the frosting was firm enough. Make sure your butter is "just firm" all the way through and not liquidy before beating it with the cream cheese.

Nut Topping
1 1/2 Tablespoons unsalted butter
2/3 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup pecans, coarsely chopped
2 Tablespoons light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt

Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the nuts and cook, stirring, until the nuts brown slightly, about 2 minutes. Sprinkle in brown sugar and salt and stir until the sugar melts and the nuts are glazed. Remove from the heat and let the mixture cool in the skillet. Arrange in a ring around the frosted cake as shown in the picture above. Credit goes to Tayta for the creation of this beautiful and delicious cake.

The frosting recipe is from the Oct/Nov 2010 issue of Fine Cooking (I was a sucker for those cooking magazines at the grocery store check-out while we were in the States last fall). The topping recipe was adapted from a recipe in the same issue.

2011-05-07T06:30:00.001-07:00

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills.
When all at once I saw a crowd.
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And winkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company;
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought;

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

~William Wordsworth

Alas, no fields of golden daffodils are to be found in Jordan, but "my heart with pleasure fills" when the graceful poppies toss their red-bonnet-ed "heads in sprightly dance."

Art Show

2011-05-05T01:26:00.000-07:00

This year has been an artful adventure for our family as Artist Son has worked his way through the Advanced Placement (AP) Studio Art-Drawing course. I say it has been an adventure for our family (the four of us at home) because although it was Artist Son who spent up to 15 hours a week thinking, composing, sketching and drawing, we the played the role of supportive patrons who had a lot to learn about what it takes to make art.

As the end of the course approached and we realized that Artist Son had produced 24 final drawings, we decided he should put on an art show--with his agreement, of course. Dear Husband rose to the challenge of turning our adjoining sun porch, living room, and family room into an art gallery: furniture was moved, drawings were hung, easels were improvised. Tayta made cakes--four of them, and it was a good thing as many friends showed up to see Artist's Son's work and to encourage and support him.

Artist Son provided helpful Gallery Notes with an brief explanation of each drawing.

We weren't able to hang all the pieces at eye-level, but that didn't stop some of the serious art aficionados from getting close enough to appreciate the detail Artist Son accomplished in his stippled drawing.

I was impressed to see and hear some of the particulars that Artist Son's friends noticed and appreciated in his drawings.

Yesterday Artist Son hit the button and submitted his online digital portfolio and today DHL picked up his five piece quality portfolio which will be delivered to the AP readers in the US. He hopes (okay, okay, mom is hoping more than he is, but...) to post his entire portfolio online in the near future, but short of that I will post my very favorite piece from his portfolio.

I get a little teary when I look at it for any length of time. The piece is titled, "Boredom" and it is one of the pieces that was sent off today in the quality portfolio. It is a self-portrait and the setting is the side yard of our house. The bar he is hanging from used to bear a grape-vine and the trees in the distance are olive trees. A dear friend who has had three teen-age boys also picked this one as her favorite. We should receive this drawing back sometime this summer and Artist Son says I may have it. It will be one of my treasures.

Pioneer Woman's Cinnamon Rolls--With Improvements

2011-04-28T14:21:00.000-07:00

I realize that I make a bold statement by claiming to improve on Pioneer Woman's cinnamon rolls. Pioneer Woman, herself, says, "If I had to pick one recipe of mine that I could incontrovertibly claim is the best there is, it would most definitely be cinnamon rolls. " And she is supported by thousands of readers, many of which publicly back her claim. I agree, this recipe is the best I've ever tried--with a few modifications.

I have been making cinnamon rolls for many years using just two recipes: for many years I used Fanny Farmer's recipe and a few years ago I started using a Betty Crocker recipe which used mashed potatoes in the dough. Most of the time these rolls turned out well, but the dough wasn't consistently great. I finally gave Pioneer Woman's widely acclaimed recipe a whirl a few months ago. The dough is wonderfully soft, yet not sticky, and very easy to work with. It rises perfectly every time, not just most of the time. And, the PW's signature icing includes my favorite cinnamon roll flavors: maple and coffee. I had been making maple icing for some time, but never thought to add the coffee--perfect!

My "improvements":

Add two tablespoons of ground cinnamon to the dough. These are, after all, cinnamon rolls. We tried the first batch without this addition and found the dough to be a little bland.
Cut the salt to 2 teaspoons.
Seriously reduce the amount of butter spread on the rolled dough. PW's recipe calls for 1 1/2-2 cups melted butter. Instead, I used 1/2 cup softened butter, spread on the dough with a butter knife or small spatula.
Instead of 1 cup of white sugar I spread 1 1/4 cup brown sugar on the rolled dough.
I cut the delicious poured maple/coffee icing recipe in half and instead of pouring, I spread it with a small rubber spatula. Half a recipe added plenty of sweetness to these rolls--even sweet-tooth Tatya agrees.

As I cruise around the recipe blogs I am humbled by the fantastic photography and detailed pictorial tutorials. I just don't have the time or inclination to do all that so here is my Pioneer Woman's Cinnamon Rolls--with improvements--Recipe in basic black and white, or you can follow PW's fab tutorial. PW keeps it real, I keep it simple:

Phase 1
-Mix in a heavy bottom pan:
1 cup sugar
1 cup oil
1 quart whole milk
-Heat to scalding and take off the stove.
-Let cool for 45-60 minutes--until it is lukewarm and the right temperature for mixing in the yeast.
-dissolve 5 teaspoons yeast (2 US packets) in the milk mixture and let sit for a few minutes until the yeast begins to react.
-mix 2 Tablespoons cinnamon with 8 cups of flours and then add the flour mixture to the milk mixture and mix thoroughly.
-Cover with a cotton dishtowel and let rise for 1 hour or a little more.

Phase 2
-The dough should have risen nicely in an hours time. Next, mix together:
1 cup flour
1 heaping teaspoon baking powder
1 scant teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons salt
-Add this flour mixture to the risen dough, stirring to mix well.

Phase 3
-On a floured surface, roll out half the dough into a roughly rectangular shape (not too thin).
-Spread with half a stick of softened butter.
-Spread 1/2-3/4 cup brown sugar over the butter.
-Sprinkle some more cinnamon over the the brown sugar. Hint: I add just a little white sugar to ground cinnamon which I put in an old spice bottle/shaker. The added sugar makes it easier to distribute the cinnamon evenly.
-At this point you could add some chopped walnuts before you roll up the dough--Dear Husband always appreciates this effort.
-Roll up the dough.
-Slice into rolls. I slice my rolls about 1 1/2 inches each and I usually end up with about 15-16 rolls per half-batch, 30-32 total.
-Place rolls , not quite touching (or just barely touching), in a greased baking pan.

At this point you can let the rolls rise another 30 minutes and then bake, or you can cover and refrigerate them overnight, and bake them in the morning. I've done both and they turn out equally good.
-Bake for about 18 minutes at 375 degrees F, or until golden.

PW's Crowning Touch: The Maple-Coffee Icing:

1 pound powdered sugar
1 teaspoon maple flavoring
1/4 cup milk
2 Tablespoons brewed coffee
2 Tablespoons melted butter
pinch salt

Spread over cinnamon rolls--I use a small rubber spatula--about 3-5 minutes after the rolls come out of the oven. Let cool and enjoy!

Note Bene: You can also refrigerate the dough before rolling it out, if you have or need the time. This makes the dough a bit firmer and just a little easier to work with.

My kitchen has seen the production of nearly 300 cinnamon rolls over the past couple of weeks: Tayta made (with my advisory help) a quadruple batch to raise money for her sister's Kickstarter project and tonight, Tayta and her two friends made another quadruple batch to sell at the ball field tomorrow. This time they are raising money to help rescue young woman from human trafficking bondage. Their youth group, spurred on by the vision of one of these dear young girls, has raised over $400 to help these young women.

Email Subscriptions to Quotidian Life

2011-04-27T14:09:00.000-07:00

This might be a good way-to-keep-in-touch solution for:

(a) friends (and family) who don't get on the internet much, and when they do, don't think to check blogs.

(b) friends who are tired of clicking on only to find I haven't updated.(Springtime in particular seems to be a high-living, low-blogging time of year.)

Thanks to Blogger's new service, you can sign up for email notifications of Quotidian Life blog updates--see the sidebar on the right.

2011-04-22T23:43:00.000-07:00

THE CROSS
by John Donne

SINCE Christ embraced the cross itself, dare I
His image, th' image of His cross, deny ?
Would I have profit by the sacrifice,
And dare the chosen altar to despise ?
It bore all other sins, but is it fit
That it should bear the sin of scorning it ?
Who from the picture would avert his eye,
How would he fly his pains, who there did die ?
From me no pulpit, nor misgrounded law,
Nor scandal taken, shall this cross withdraw,
It shall not, for it cannot ; for the loss
Of this cross were to me another cross.
Better were worse, for no affliction,
No cross is so extreme, as to have none.
Who can blot out the cross, with th' instrument
Of God dew'd on me in the Sacrament ?
Who can deny me power, and liberty
To stretch mine arms, and mine own cross to be ?
Swim, and at every stroke thou art thy cross ;
The mast and yard make one, where seas do toss ;
Look down, thou spiest out crosses in small things ;
Look up, thou seest birds raised on crossed wings ;
All the globe's frame, and spheres, is nothing else
But the meridians crossing parallels.
Material crosses then, good physic be,
But yet spiritual have chief dignity.
These for extracted chemic medicine serve,
And cure much better, and as well preserve.
Then are you your own physic, or need none,
When still'd or purged by tribulation ;
For when that cross ungrudged unto you sticks,
Then are you to yourself a crucifix.
As perchance carvers do not faces make,
But that away, which hid them there, do take ;
Let crosses, so, take what hid Christ in thee,
And be His image, or not His, but He.
But, as oft alchemists do coiners prove,
So may a self-despising get self-love ;
And then, as worst surfeits of best meats be,
So is pride, issued from humility,
For 'tis no child, but monster ; therefore cross
Your joy in crosses, else, 'tis double loss.
And cross thy senses, else both they and thou
Must perish soon, and to destruction bow.
For if the eye seek good objects, and will take
No cross from bad, we cannot 'scape a snake.
So with harsh, hard, sour, stinking ; cross the rest ;
Make them indifferent ; call, nothing best.
But most the eye needs crossing, that can roam,
And move ; to th' others th' objects must come home.
And cross thy heart ; for that in man alone
Pants downwards, and hath palpitation.
Cross those dejections, when it downward tends,
And when it to forbidden heights pretends.
And as the brain through bony walls doth vent
By sutures, which a cross's form present,
So when thy brain works, ere thou utter it,
Cross and correct concupiscence of wit.
Be covetous of crosses; let none fall ;
Cross no man else, but cross thyself in all.
Then doth the cross of Christ work faithfully
Within our hearts, when we love harmlessly
That cross's pictures much, and with more care
That cross's children, which our crosses are.

...and a wonderful meditation on the cross by Peter Leithart.

Camping Food

2011-04-13T11:50:00.001-07:00

Frozen hot dogs, peanut butter and jelly, pita bread, fruit, chips, and potatoes wrapped in foil which didn't bake through as I didn't know to pre-cook them, all unceremoniously carted down to the Rummana campsite in plastic shopping bags, sustained us during our first Wadi Dana camping adventures beginning about thirteen years ago. We've come a long way since then, each year learning a bit more about the fine art of preparing camping food that not only nourishes but also provides pleasure--and sometimes even a little envy from our friends at the next camping table. But it is envy in good fun: we enjoy sharing with each other the best of what we bring and we tuck away new ideas of what we'll bring the next year.

One of our first family camping trips to Wadi Dana---the frozen hot dog days. (This picture graced our Christmas card that year. I had planned to take the picture in Dana and had instructed the kids that the family picture must be endured FIRST--thus our cleanliness--and then they could go off and play with their friends.)

Back at the Bedouin/Eating Tent:

When we first began camping at Dana we couldn't find a cooler or a decent camp chair to bring with us but we now have a large white American cooler, third hand from an American Embassy family who brought it in with their shipment. All non-perishable food is packed safely in Rubbermaid containers, hauled over as extra-baggage pieces over the years. We are camping in style! Below are recipes we enjoyed this year in Dana:

Camping Pasta Salad

This has become our traditional first lunch when we arrive at Wadi Dana. Thanks for this great camping meal idea goes to some Swiss friends whom Dear Husband and the boys camped with in Wadi Rum one summer. The pasta is precooked, drained, and stored in a ziploc bag. All the other ingredients are pre-cut and stored in baggies or small plastic containers. When we arrive at the campsite all we have to do is to mix the ingredients in a large bowl and dress it with olive oil and a little coarse sea salt and spices.

The ingredients for this salad are flexible, depending on what you have on hand, but here is what I used in Dana:

One 500 gr. bag pasta, cooked and drained
sliced olives
cubed mozzarella cheese
tomatoes (cherry or grape are nice but I used regular ones cut into chunks, too.)
chopped red and yellow peppers
olive oil
chopped fresh basil (or dry if you don't have fresh)
maybe a little lemon pepper and or sea salt

You could also saute some vegetables instead: onion, garlic, zucchini, eggplant. Just depends what you have on hand.

Fellow camper, Jackie, shared this great dip with us:

Black Bean Hummus

1 clove garlic
1 15 oz. can black beans, drain and reserve juice
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
1 1/2 Tablespoons tahini (sesame seed paste)
3/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Whirl all ingredients in the food processor, scraping down the sides. This is good served with pita chips--we make our own in Jordan!

This year the prize for the most ambitious camping dish goes goes to Tiffany. I could hardly believe my ears when I came back to the eating tent after an afternoon hike and Tayta ran up to inform me that Tiffany was making onion rings. "Really? Real onion rings? How is she doing that??" With a small propane burner and a small pot of boiling oil. Amazing. I would never have thought to attempt it. The onion rings were delicious and she made plenty to share. Here is the recipe she used from allrecipes.com.

A few more camping food notes:

We now bring our french press with us so that we can enjoy coffee with the baked goods that Tayta provides;
A typical Australian hamburger is served not with pickles but with sliced beets. Quite nice.
Twice baked potatoes are a delicious substitute for baked potatoes. Made ahead of time and wrapped in foil, they need only be re-heated in the fire.

The Grandeur of God~Wadi Dana

2011-04-08T06:04:00.001-07:00

Last week the city folk got out of town to enjoy each other and the unique beauty of a small yet grand corner of God's creation. We love Amman, but it is after all a city, and we anticipated--with no small hope of temperate weather--escaping the traffic, pollution, grimy streets, and winter-chilled houses for the warmth, wide open spaces, star filled night skies, and rugged beauty of Wadi Dana. I was hoping for, as writes Gerard Manley Hopkins, The Grandeur of God:

"The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod...

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs-
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings."

In the vastness of a nature never spent we joyfully rediscovered the dearest freshness deep down things.

I used to be an English-Garden-beauty kind of girl but now it is the expansive, sandstone terrain with its sparse but exquisite flora which captures my imagination.

The silence serenaded me as I walked the trails and sat on sandstone rocks, letting the sun melt away a couple months worth of winter chill.

I think I understand why so many migratory birds pass through Wadi Dana on their way to and from Europe: I can imagine they are enjoying themselves as I watch them float effortlessly through the gorge, riding from one wind current to another.

Palestinian Sunbird

The broom, in full, fragrant bloom was a-buzz with hundreds of bees. This particular bush was so big that I could easily imagine the prophet Elijah taking shelter under it as is mentioned in I Kings 19--without the bees!

This bird, among others, found it a choice shelter.

Rains had been light this year and flowers few, but once I focused my desert eyes I was not disappointed with the flora beauty I found.

Brightening the landscape in chartreuse clumps, the Euphorbia looked especially fine. And if one looked very carefully they could find a tasseled hyacinth putting on a show:

Leopoldia comoso

Somewhere along the way unruly clumps of wild mustard became more beautiful to me than beds of tulips...

and the late afternoon vision of desert sage than a bunch of long-stemmed roses.

I didn't spend all my time alone: we scrambled and hiked...

and otherwise enjoyed each other's company.

Our shrinking family--sniff, sniff. And when did Artist Son get so tall??

Up next: Wadi Dana, The Food

Resurrection Letters, Volume II~He Makes All Things New

2011-04-04T01:14:00.000-07:00

From a favorite soundtrack for the Easter season:

"All Things New"

Come broken and weary,
Come battered and bruised  
My Jesus makes all things new, all things new  
Come lost and abandoned,
Come blown by the wind  
He'll bring you back home again, home again

Chorus:
Rise up oh you sleeper awake  
The light of the dawn is upon you  
Rise up oh you sleeper awake
 He makes all things new
 All things new   come frozen with shame,
Come burning with guilt,
My Jesus loves you still, loves you still

Chorus   Bridge:
The world was good, the world is fallen,
The world will be redeemed,
The world was good, the world is fallen,
The world will be redeemed  
So Hold on to the promise,
The stories are true.
My Jesus makes all things new,
The Dawn is upon you.  

Chorus

Holy Sonnet XIV~John Donne

2011-04-03T02:14:00.000-07:00

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Tour for Peace

2011-04-01T11:00:00.001-07:00

It has been a couple of months of twists and turns for Oldest Daughter, times of hard work, expectation, disappointment, revelation, and more hard work. What began as a vague but determined desire for continued musical growth and an opportunity to use the music God has given her to bring something good to the lives of others where it is greatly needed, developed into ideas which required persistent inquiries, networking, and arranging, and has culminated into the musical Tour for Peace project described in the Kickstarter project below.

If they are successful, Oldest Daughter (who will come out of anonymity on this blog for a time), and her good friend and fellow violinist, Holly Jenkins will spend several weeks this summer giving a free recital tour, hold free workshops and give lessons for youth in Jordan and Ramallah, in the Palestinian territories.

A brief word about Kickstarter: it is an online venue for funding creative projects. All projects must first be approved by Kickstarter before they can be launched. Projects are an all-or-nothing venture: If Lauren and Holly do not reach their goal of $6000 in the next 26 days, they will receive no funds and backers will not be obligated to meet their pledges. Thus, backers are not charged (via Amazon payments) until and unless the project if fully funded in the specified time.

They are off to a good start and are hoping for a rush of donations at the beginning so that they might attract the attention of the Kickstarter organizers and be featured on their site.

Thanks for taking a look and for considering this project!

Meditation XVII~John Donne

2011-03-23T15:18:00.000-07:00

As part of our Great Books study, Artist Son and I read and considered some works by John Donne last week, works that I first read with Oldest Daughter and Active Son four years ago. So moved was I by Donne's poetry and prose that I looked forward to reading and discussing these works again with Artist Son. And though I didn't plan our study schedule so, I found that Donne's works offered timely meditations during this Lenten season. I thought to post some favorite poems and sonnets here in the coming few weeks before Easter but it is Donne's beautiful Meditation XVII which has been coming back to me as I think of God's children, particularly in Japan, Egypt, and Iraq, where many brothers and sisters are suffering, so I will begin with it. Today I attended the funeral of the father of a dear friend and it was on this poignant occasion that I recalled in community Donne's words, "any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

MEDITATION XVII.

John Donne

PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill as that he knows not it tolls for him. And perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The church is catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does, belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that head which is my head too, and ingraffed into that body, whereof I am a member. And when she buries a man, that action concerns me; all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again, for that library where every book shall lie open to one another; as therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come; so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.

There was a contention as far as a suit (in which, piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled) which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the morning; and it was determined, that they should ring first that rose earliest. If we understand aright the dignity of this bell, that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours, by rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as his, whose indeed it is. The bell doth toll for him, that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute, that that occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God. Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? But who takes off his eye from a comet, when that breaks out? who bends not his ear to any bell, which upon any occasion rings? But who can remove it from that bell, which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbors. Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did; for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath afflicion enough, that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man carry treasure in bullion or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current moneys, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell that tells me of his affliction, digs out, and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger, I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.

I Am a Quilter

2011-03-22T13:43:00.000-07:00

I've wanted to be a quilter for a long time. I was so sure of it that I took a quilting class 24 years ago in which I learned to pick fabrics and piece a small doll-sized quilt. I machine pieced the quilt but never quite got the hang of the hand quilting and repeatedly ripped out my uneven stitches. I set the quilt aside to "finish later"and when we moved to Jordan 22 years ago I packed up the small quilt, my cutting mat and and rotary cutter, because I was sure that I would be a quilter. Other projects that came along (remember counted cross-stitch?) as did four children, and then we decided to home educate those four children. Evenings were now spent reading and educating myself, not sewing and crafting.

circa 1987 doll quilt, not yet quilted

About two years ago, when Oldest Daughter began her second year of college, I made her a simple quilt from recycled denim and through the process of creating this quilt, realized that I had been a quilter all along--I had just to discover what kind of quilter I was! I was not a traditional quilter, choosing coordinating calicoes to cut into intricate, traditional patterns and hand quilt with patient precision. (That is my friend, a true quilting artist, Renae of Renae's Quilts, now a machine quilting industry innovator. Check out the amazing quilts in her gallery.)

Searching the internet for a binding tutorial, I came across Crazy Mom Quilts' site and my quilting imagination was awakened. This was the kind of quilter I wanted to be--on a more basic level, of course--making simple, modern, bold quilts which could be machine quilted. Ever in need of keeping it simple, not to mention affordable in Jordan, I decided to limit my quilting--at least the tops--to recyclable materials.

Next up would be a denim quilt for Active Son to take to college with him. It wasn't finished when he moved into the dorms last fall, but I was able to give it to him before we left the States in early January. And though I had purchased a couple of inspirational modern quilting books:

it was to Crazy Mom Quilts' site I returned, using her Fair Square quilt pattern and tutorial.

Active Son's Quilt

The top of the quilt is made of recycled--or upcycled, as they now say--denim shirts. I used jeans for Oldest daughters quilt but it was tied. As I planned to machine quilt this one, I thought I'd better use a lighter weight fabric; is a good thing I did. When I chose oh-so-soft minky fabric for the back of the quilt to please oh-so-tactile Active son, I didn't realize, having never machine quilted before, how difficult I had made things for myself.

I used a walking foot for quilting but I didn't have a proper quilting table/extension on my machine which made the machine quilting laborious and less than perfect. Thankfully, Active Son has no hints of sewing perfectionism in him and he loves the minky backing, so all was good.

Next up will be a quilt for Artist Son but I'll not be starting that one right away as I've been smitten with another recycling/upcycling crafting project...

Sweet Memory

2011-03-21T14:12:00.000-07:00

Today was Monday, March 21, a school day, a laundry day, and Jordanian Mother's Day. We happily set upon the day's studies and activities without much notice of the occasion. Dear Husband was in in the north of Jordan and didn't return home until about 8pm. Out and about, he learned somewhere along the way that it was Mother's Day and told me so late this evening. I told him that I knew and that Oldest Daughter had sent me a Facebook greeting this afternoon. And then Dear Husband reminded me of a sweet memory that I had forgotten: "Remember when I wrote a song for Oldest Daughter to sing at the Mother's Day program at the Baptist School when she was in first grade?" How could I have forgotten?!

Oldest Daughter with Tayta, 1997

I don't recall all the details of how it came about, but when Oldest Daughter was in the first grade at Amman Baptist School (Arabic school) a Mother's Day program was planned for all the mothers and children and the children were invited to present something at the program. Though I wasn't in on the planning, I knew when I accompanied Oldest Daughter to the program that afternoon in March, 1997, that she was prepared to sing a song that she had been working on with Dear Husband. Approximately 100 children and their mothers were at the program which was loud and chaotic. When it was Oldest Daughter's turn to sing her song kids were still running around and lots of people were talking, even as she took the microphone. I, of course, was at full attention, amazed that my quiet, shy daughter was actually going to sing this song in front of so many people.

As Dear Husband recalled the story this evening he remembered that it was his idea to write the song for oldest daughter to sing. She wasn't too enthusiastic about the idea but she dutifully agreed to do it and performed it boldly and unflinchingly before a noisy crowd of peers and mothers. Kind of makes us wonder if this was a foreshadowing of her performing lifestyle (see a few posts below.)

And you know I kept the words to the song. Oldest Daughter memorized all three verses.

Oldest Daughter's Mother's Day Song
March, 1997

Who serves our meals and bakes our bread
Mom is the one, Mom is the one.
Who cleans up our mess and puts us to bed
Mom is the one we love.

Chorus: Mom is the one, Mom is the one
Who loves us a lot and makes life fun.
Mom is the one, Mom is the one
Mom is the one we love.

Who teaches us things and picks up our clothes
Mom is the one, Mom is the one.
Who combs our hair and wipes our nose
Mom is the one we love.

Chorus

Who hold us close and kisses our cheek
Mom is the one, Mom is the one.
Who's the greatest mother you'll ever meet
Mom is the one we love.

Dear Husband still remembers the tune--well, you can guess that it's not that complicated--and he sang it for me tonight. Thankfully, the children now pick up their own clothes and wipe their own noses!

Damascus or Bust--Bust

2011-03-05T05:19:00.000-08:00

It looked to be a promising weekend: While Artist Son and Tayta joined the youth group for its annual retreat in the hills of Ajloun, Dear Husband and I planned to visit friends and colleagues in Damascus. Though the trip to Damascus, a fascinating ancient city with a famous souq through which runs Straight Street (Acts 9:11), is only a four hour trip from Amman, we have not visited there for many years as the Syrian government has made it difficult for American passport holders to do so; visas are expensive and the state of cold war that exists between Syria and Israel makes if difficult to visit Syria if one has first been to Israel or the Occupied Territories.

Last year, during a time when Syria began granting inexpensive visas to Americans at the border, Dear Husband attempted a trip to Damascus, only to learn upon arrival at the border that the law had been changed just the day before. So, while we were in the US we sent our passports to the Syrian Embassy and received Syrian visas--for the fee of $120 per visa. Full of anticipation, we packed our bags, and boarded a bus for Syria.

Unfortunately, we were not careful enough in our visa/passport preparation. Dear Husband had some months ago obtained a second "clean" passport for crossing borders of countries that are still at war with Israel. I didn't have a completely clean passport; when I visited Jerusalem last year I made a common request of the Israeli border officials: please stamp a piece of paper and not my passport. They obliged. But, the Jordanian border guards stamped my passport, so while I didn't have an Israeli stamp, one could deduce that I had entered Jordan from Israel. We naively thought that since the Syrian Embassy had granted me a visa (stamped in my passport) that I would be able to enter Syria. When we reached the border control station we found out that wasn't the case. Dear Husband would be allowed to enter but I would not. We had only seconds to decide what to do as the bus attendant was hurrying us on.

Dear Husband, I said, must continue on to Syria and I would return home. Our friends were expecting him and he had work to do. With in two minutes I repacked his duffle bag with the gifts I was carrying, Dear Husband handed me the house keys and a bit of cash and the bus attendant informed me that there was another bus at the border headed back to Amman. I could board that bus if I hurried. As we parted, I must have looked pretty forlorn because Dear Husband's last words to me were, "Don't cry." He knows I'm pretty wimpy when it comes to tears, though at that point the thought or emotion hadn't even crossed my mind. It would later.

The bus attendant kindly escorted me to the new bus and advised me that I could find a seat in the back. When I boarded, everyone was seated and every eye was on me, the only foreigner, besides two young French-speaking tourists, on the bus. I wondered by their sober stares if they had been told they were waiting for me and if they had been told that I had been refused entry at the Syrian border. As soon as I reached the top step of the bus the bus driver began driving, and not only driving, but turning, so that I feared I might topple over as I negotiated the aisle to the back of the bus.

The only seat I could see was in the very back between a young mother with her infant and her mother. They had used the extra seat for their things and they didn't look too happy about having to shift around so that I could sit between them. We momentarily disembarked to have passports stamped on the Jordanian side of the border and I had to be escorted to a office for a special signature since I was simply having my departure stamp canceled rather than receiving a new entry stamp. Humiliation was added to my feelings of disappointment and frustration.

When I re-boarded the bus, the mother directed me to another seat in front of them, advising me that it was vacant and would be more comfortable for me. On the seat were a number of bags of food so I confirmed that this was in fact a vacant seat. She assured me it was, so I moved the bags to the adjoining seat and sat down. When the owner of the bags, a women just a few years older than myself, returned, she was surprised to find me in the seat which she had been using to store her things. By now I was fighting back tears so I got out my book to read, realizing that this would make me look even more foreign and that I was, at least for a time, putting up a barrier between myself and my new seatmate. I felt I needed a few minutes to regain composure.

On the way to the border I had been reading truths about the sovereignty of God and while a border crossing refusal isn't the weightiest of issues, these truths were a comfort to me just then. As I inwardly fumed about all the injustice and bitterness in the Middle East I also realized how, as an American, I have a deeply ingrained sense of personal freedom and rights. How many millions of Middle Easterners had suffered much more severe injustices at the hands of their own rulers and governments? And, I also came to understand in a very small way, so small I almost feel that I shouldn't make the comparison, the feeling of colleagues who have been shut out of various countries they weren't just trying to visit, but where they had lived for years.

After I regained my composure I set aside my book and discovered that my seatmate was a lovely Iraqi women, a widow who had four children (two boys and two girls, like me!) scattered around various countries. Adding further perspective to my own very small trial, she told me that she was from Baghdad but had fled when their surroundings had become too dangerous. Her husband had been a dermatologist and she told me with pride of her brother who was a physicist who studied at Oxford and now worked in California. The kindness of her pleasant conversation was a balm to my stirred up sensibilities.

It's been a little strange to putter around an empty house for two days. Thus, the unprecedented two blog posts in a 24 hour period! I'm off to meet my kiddos at our International Church fellowship and Dear Husband will be home late tonight--much to look forward to!

Lessons from Miss Suzy

2011-03-04T14:02:00.001-08:00

As a parent and educator I am ever thinking about how I might help my children love what they ought to love and in the proper degree. I wrote a little about that some months ago. Recently an online friend wrote about books being one of the most effective tools to help our children develop this moral imagination. And though I am usually thinking about literature and the ideas it embodies, developing the moral imagination of my children, this week, as I neatened up a bookshelf in our home and came across a favorite childhood book of mine, I pondered how it had influenced my moral imagination.

"Oh I love to cook, I love to bake, I guess I'll make an acorn cake!"

I thank my mom for introducing me to good books. Miss Suzy was one of a number of books she purchased for me on subscription from the Parents' Magazine Press. And while Miss Suzy may not be classic literature it was a beloved story of my childhood, of my sibling's childhoods, and my children's childhood.

When I was young, I loved the idea of coziness and Miss Suzy's existence was, to me, the epitome of coziness. Her home was fitted simply but cozily with homemade acorn cups, a maple twig broom, and firefly lamps, and sat at the tip, tip, top of a tall oak tree.

"At night Miss Suzy climbed into her bed and looked through the topmost branches at the sky. She saw a million stars. And the wind blew gently and rocked her to sleep. It was very peaceful."

The picture of Miss Suzy, snuggled under her thick comforter, looking out her window, is etched in my memory.

Unfortunately, a band of marauding red squirrels ran Miss Suzy out of her home and she escaped to the attic of an old house. In the attic she found an old doll house, elegantly fitted with flowered carpets, china dishes, and gold chandeliers. As the house had been vacant and everything was covered in dust, Miss Suzy set about cleaning and putting everything in order.

Next, she found a box in the attic and upon opening it discovered a band of toy soldiers. Set free by Miss Suzy, they came to live in the doll house where she cared for them, cooking their meals and tucking them in at night with a story.

As time passes, Miss Suzy became increasingly homesick for her little house in the oak tree; she told the toy soldiers the story of the her home and how the red squirrels had chased her away.

"Late that night the captain woke his men and gave them their orders. There were only five of them, but they were very brave, and their hearts were full of love..."

The toy soldiers chased the red squirrels from Miss Suzy's home so she moved back in and made the soldiers promise to come for dinner once every week. Miss Suzy then went to work setting her little home in order;

"she had to work very hard to make her old home as neat and cozy as it had been before, but she didn't mind."

I chuckled to myself as I reflected on this story, which was formative in my life, as today it would definitely not be considered politically correct: a female protagonist finds contentment in cooking, baking, and caring for her home. She then devotes herself to caring for a band of male toy soldiers, who in turn fight for her when she needs them. Interestingly, I noticed on Miss Suzy's Amazon page that this book has received 133 reviews--132 readers rated it with five stars and one rated it with four. Maybe there is something to this homemaking business? I'm buying a copy of this book for each of my children to take with them into their future homes.

3rd Annual Valentine's Banquet

2011-02-14T10:30:00.000-08:00

On Thursday, the youth of Amman International Church celebrated love and marriage by treating their parents to the 3rd annual Valentine's Banquet. This year they cooked and served and entertained to a western theme and I once again helped the youth with the food preparation for the evening.

Our menu was a bit more casual this year, given the western theme and the fact that I had recently returned from the U.S. and just didn't have the gumption I'd had in years past.

From the Chuckwagon:

Green Salad with Ranch Dressing
Texas Toast
~~~
Shepherd's Pie
Corn
~~~
Texas Sheet Cake
Tea or Coffee

The chefs prepare the Texas Toast, made from thickly cut homemade white Artisan Bread

Servers patiently waiting to serve

Served with lovingly made hearts by two of the youth chefs

The most requested recipe of the night:

~Texas Sheet Cake~

Mix in a large bowl:

2 cups flour
2 cups sugar
1 t salt
1 t soda
2 eggs
1/2 cup sour cream

Boil and add to the flour mixture:

1 cup butter
1 cup water
4 T baking cocoa

Pour into a greased jelly roll pan and bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees.

Frosting:

Mix:
1 pound powdered sugar
1 t vanilla

Boil and add to sugar:
1/2 cup butter
6T milk
4 T baking cocoa

As soon as the frosting is mixed, pour and then spread it over the cake. (Tayta's tip: if the frosting doesn't have smooth consistency, whisk in a little extra milk to repair it.)

This is our most used cake recipe ever and has fed dozens (probably hundreds) of youth and others on many occasions. I'd say it is worth purchasing a jelly roll pan (or two) just to make this recipe. I think Tayta can practically make it in her sleep.

Artist Son and Tayta

I've heard rumors that the youth would like to try an Indian theme next year, presenting some musical scenes from Bride and Prejudice...no life without wife!

The Show Must Go On

2011-01-31T02:46:00.000-08:00

This Christmas found Oldest Daughter on tour in Asia with Oberlin's Orchestra. We missed her dearly but were glad for the opportunity she had to visit China and Singapore with fellow musicians and friends as they shared their music to full halls wherever they played.

When we caught up with Oldest Daughter in early January, as she made her way to Jordan, arriving just a couple days after we did, the first and most memorable story with which she regaled us was of their concert in Wuhan.

The short video below mostly tells the story, and features sleep-deprived Oldest Daughter and her friend, Holly, as they play in their traveling jeans for a sold-out crowd of 1300, while waiting for their luggage and the rest of the orchestra to arrive. (They are playing Sarasate's Navarra, which they performed together in their junior recital in November. They didn't have their music with them but were able to download it from a borrowed computer.)

Amman Recital~Violin and Piano

2011-01-27T03:31:00.000-08:00

Friday, January 28 · 7:30pm - 9:00pm
Union Bank, Main Auditorium (downstairs), Shmeisani

Lauren Manning, violin
Rania Ejeilat, piano

Come hear Schumann Sonata in A minor, Sarasate's Zigeunerweisen, and a few little surprises...

Admission is free

The Hegemony of American Slang

2011-01-25T11:13:00.000-08:00

Whenever my kids visit the dentist in Jordan they come back with funny stories about the conversations which the all-woman staff have while they are working on the kids teeth. Here is a guest post from Tayta recounting such a conversation:

Overheard in the Dentist Chair

We went to the dentist yesterday to get our teeth checked, and I was chosen to go first. The dentist, walking into the room with her assistant following, warmly greeted me. They began chatting, and I don’t think they stopped chatting for more than a second or two the entire time they were working on my teeth. As the dentist began the examination/cleaning of my teeth she said delightedly, “Your teeth, they are beautiful! Fantastic!” In the beginning, the conversation was directed towards me in English, but very quickly the dentist and her assistant switched to Arabic, and since I am a foreigner, I was not expected to know any Arabic. Little did they know that I understood the entirety of their amusing conversation.

Dental assistant: "Aw, she seems like such a nice girl, and she has such beautiful teeth! We should have her come some time just so we can spoil her, although, she doesn’t seem like the spoiled type.”

The dentist agreed, and then, changing the subject, she asked her assistant. “So what is this word ‘duh’?”

The dental assistant replied, “’Duh’? Well, it means: ‘Why are you asking? It is so, so obvious!’”

The dentist replied, “Hmm, that’s what I thought. You know, my daughter is saying it all the time now! She says it after every single sentence. Do you know what I told her? I told her,” Mama, why do you keep saying duh? It is not nice! If you keep saying it I’m going to…” (Relatives here have the custom of saying their name before the sentence when they are talking to kids.) After the nurse showed her amusement, the dentist went on,” You know what happened in the car the other day?”

The assistant asked, “What happened?”.

“I was in the car with my daughter and my son--and can you believe it?-- my son does not want to study for his exams! The exams are on the 20^th and he thinks that if he just studies on the 19^th he will have studied plenty. But I told him, “Mama, what will you do when you get older if you don’t get good grades on your exams? He innocently replied that he would have a car business and sell Mercedes and Rangers, but I told him, 'Who do you expect to buy the cars from you if you don’t get good grades on your exams?' And then my daughter said in English,” You guys. Duh!”

The assistant laughed and said with a little bit of surprise in her voice, “She said ‘guys’ too, along with ‘duh’!”

A Big Pot of Comfort~Beef, Barley, and Mushroom Soup

2011-01-15T12:39:00.000-08:00

I don't bring many food items from the States to Jordan anymore as more things are available here now and the baggage allowance has been reduced. Two carefully chosen items for transport, barley and dried porcini mushrooms, are needed for this favorite soup recipe and it was one of the first things I made upon our return to Jordan. If you need a good, inexpensive source for dried mushrooms (not to mention lots of dried fruit, nuts, etc.), check out Nuts Online. They offer the best price--by far--that I have found on porcini mushrooms.

This recipe can easily be halved. I like to have lots of leftover soup--we make a dinner of it one or two nights and still have leftovers for lunches.

Beef, Barley, and Mushroom Soup

1 1/2 cups dried porcini mushrooms, soaked for 30 minutes in 3 cups hot water.
oil
1 1/2-2 lbs beef, cut into small pieces (I used topside which was already sliced thinly.)
4 ribs celery
2 onions, chopped
3 carrots, chopped
12-16 oz mushrooms, finely chopped (that is how we like them but you could slice them if you'd like)
1 1/2 cups barley
salt and pepper
1/2 bunch fresh parsley, leaves chopped
1 teaspoon thyme

In a large pot brown the beef in a bit of oil. Add onions, celery, and carrots and cook until just softened. Add the chopped fresh mushrooms and continue cooking until softened. Blend the dried mushroom mixture in the blender and add to the pot. Add approximately 16 cups of water and bring to a boil. Add the barley and seasonings. Cover and let simmer 45-60 minutes. (This soup thickens quite a bit so you may have to add more water as it cooks.--as always with soup, adjust liquid and seasonings.)

The 21st Day of Christmas...(and a great recipe)

2011-01-13T23:11:00.000-08:00

Now that I've unpacked the camera and had time to upload pictures, we are enjoying some Christmas memories:

After writing my post about a tree-less Christmas, a dear and thoughtful friend called to ask if she could bring us a live Christmas tree. Sure! Dear husband had to trim off a few branches so that it would fit a borrowed stand and the needles were everywhere, but oh, the scent of fresh pine was lovely! (When making our bed one day I found a tiny bough from the tree, brought to bed by Dear Husband as he was so enjoying the fresh, outdoor scent!) We improvised on decorations: a few of my childhood ornaments we had with us, a package of candy canes, and a Jordanian headscarf.

We gathered as a small extended family on December 26, waiting until our young niece could join us. Mom set a beautiful table and made a delicious dinner. My contribution: the recipe, received from my cyber-friend, Teri. This dish is Delicious and I plan to make it just as soon as I can find some prunes for less than $10 a pound! (who would have that they'd be so expensive here?)

~Mediterranean-Style Chicken with Capers, Plums, and Olives~

(serves 4-6)

Marinade~

15 small garlic cloves, whole
2T dried oregano
salt & freshly ground pepper
1/3 cup red wine vinegar
1/3 cup olive oil
1 leek white & light green parts only, chopped fine
½ cup dried whole pitted apricots
¾ cup dried whole pitted plums
1/3 cup pitted green olives
1/3 cup pitted kalamata olives
1/3 cup capers with some brine

_____________

2 3 to 3.5 pound chickens, cut into pieces
2T packed brown sugar
¾ cup dry red wine such as zinfandel or syrah
2 T fresh parsley or cilantro, garnish

Instructions

1. Make marinade in bowl, stir well & place in bag w/ chicken pieces. Turn
and coat evenly. Seal and refrigerate 2-4 hours.

2. Preheat oven to 425. Place chicken in baking pans in single layer. Arrange
marinade ingredients around chicken. In small bowl, blend brown sugar and
wine and pour over chicken.

3. Roast, basting once or twice, 40-45 minutes, til nicely browned and
cooked through.

4. To serve, arrange chicken on platter w/fruit and olives and juices
around. Garnish and serve immediately.

After lunch, we broke into the gingerbread house. The yogurt and chocolate covered pretzel fence went first.

Next came the gift opening. Here is Aunt A. sporting one of Tayta's handknit hats, a popular gift-item this season.

On the day-after-the-day-after Christmas we headed up the mountain for some tube sledding.

Flying into the New Year...

The Long and Winding Road...

2011-01-06T21:52:00.000-08:00

...that leads to our (your) door
will never disappear
I've seen that road before
It always leads me here
Lead me to our (your) door

~Paul McCartney

The equilibrium tilt began last Thursday or so, as we packed our suitcases and boxes and prepared, after six plus months in the US, to return home to Jordan. In an ironic twist we said good-bye to Active Son, leaving him in a "foreign" country to continue his studies as we returned home to Jordan, a country where we will always be considered foreigners no matter how long we live here. Such a strange life it seems, particularly during these times of transition between two worlds.

Our journey home began dubiously when our very first flight out of Boise was delayed for six hours due to mechanical difficulties, causing us to miss all our subsequent connections. So much physical and emotional energy had been spent just getting this far that we decided to wait the six hours in the airport. After a couple of hours had passed, Tayta remarked, "You know, it doesn't seem like we are in Boise anymore." Indeed, we had passed into the travel twilight zone. The other delayed passengers became our new friends. Particularly memorable was the young violinist, very reminiscent of our own Oldest Daughter, trying to get to an audition on time. We chuckled at the overheard conversation she was having with her father regarding busking in the airport-- nearly identical to conversations that Dear Husband has had with Oldest Daughter!

It took a whole day of travel energy to make the one hour flight to Salt Lake City, where Delta put us up in the very comfortable Radisson Hotel. The next morning it was onward to Boston where we had our tightest connection: just one hour to deplane, stand in line for new boarding passes for the Air France flight, and have all our bags make it onto the Air France plane. We were the very last people to receive seats on this flight; we headed for security for the third of four times. Served us right as we had our carry-ons over packed. I had even stashed a small book in my coat pocket.

We arrived in Paris to a most pleasant surprise: we had been told we would have to collect our bags, go through customs, and then re-check them onto the Royal Jordanian flight. When our bags didn't show-up on the baggage carousel we assumed that they hadn't made it onto our Air France flight. We went to inquire and were told that they had, in fact, been checked all the way through to Amman via Royal Jordanian! We walked at least a mile in the Charles de Gaulle airport and I can hardly imagine how hard it would have been to negotiate that journey with our nine pieces of checked baggage--even with carts! When we arrived in Amman we expected at least a couple of our bags to be delayed but instead we found them, all nine, collected and piled on carts, ready for us to roll through customs and out of the airport. Amazing!

We had a wonderful first night of sleep in our own beds and enjoyed a full day of energy before jet lag settled in on the second night. Day two and we are forcing ourselves to say awake until 9pm. And even though I was too tired to finish putting away the groceries, I enjoyed making dinner in my own kitchen, for the first time in months. It is good to be home.

Airport/Airline Notables

Kudos to all the airline representatives from Delta, Air France, and Royal Jordanian, who helped us on our journey. Our revised itinerary was fraught was possibilities of missed flights and lost luggage, but all went smoothly thanks their competent assistance.

Most thorough security check: Boise airport. Two of our carry-ons were unpacked and I was subjected to a pat-down search due to a quarter and a tissue I had forgotten in my pants pocket.

Most relaxed security check: Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris. Got to leave our shoes and belts on for this one.

Most comical security check: balls of yarn flowing from a 6 quart stainless steel cooking pot when Tayta's overstuffed carry-on was opened.

Best airport bathrooms: O'Hare airport in Chicago (from our November travels). One pushed button activated an automatic toilet seat cover change and an automatic toilet flush. Pretty spiffy.

Best Cuisine: Air France. Couscous, dried tomato, and smoked salmon salad, anyone? And, the coffee--no comparison.

Most Egalitarian Boarding Proceedures: European airports. No priorty boarding, just open the gate and everyone lines up and gets on the plane. I like it, course, because I am always a second class, economy passenger in the US.

A Weird Age

2010-12-29T19:28:00.000-08:00

When we wished her a happy 14th birthday, Tayta commented with her ever present smile , "it's a weird age." At 14 one is not really a child, nor is one considered an adult. And, as the youngest child I suppose that Tayta has witnessed a fair amount of 14-year-old-weirdness in her siblings. She informed me that 15 is also a weird age--16 is moving into normalcy.

Tayta enjoying her weird age

Happy Birthday, Tayta!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...the Fourth of July??

2010-12-22T00:32:00.000-08:00

Tayta's meant-to-be-red-and-green-Christmas apron was indicative of the challenge to deck our halls, trim our tree, and bake our usual abundance of Christmas treats this year. Given our just-visiting status and our temporary home, we didn't put up a Christmas tree but instead the kids helped Grandma decorate hers. Tayta designed a two foot by two foot Christmas corner (poinsettia, candy canes, and few ornaments) for our basement apartment--and giving up even that small surface was a sacrifice.

Constrained by space, we had to simplify our baking efforts and so I instructed Tayta that she could make only gingerbread this year--gingerbread men and the pieces for the house that has become a tradition for her and Artist Son to design and make together.

Tayta's Merry Men

2010 Gingerbread House

With everything else that is going on as we transition back to Jordan, it has been nice to simplify the holiday preparations this year. As we celebrate Emmanuel, God with us, with family and friends on this side of the world, we are comforted by the reminder that where God was homeless, we are at home.

Merry Christmas to all!

On-the-Road November

2010-12-13T20:26:00.000-08:00

And, in the air: it took us only four four flights to get from Boise to Springfield, Illinois, where we made a 48 hour stop to visit Dear Husband's family, and another two flights to Oberlin where we enjoyed meeting Oldest Daughter's friends, her beloved teacher, and attending her junior recital.

Oldest Daughter, her teacher, and her dear friend, with whom she performed her recital

Returning to Boise, we planned to make a quick turn around (kiss the kids hello, re-pack, sleep, and eat) , and head out the next morning to drive to Bozeman, Montana to spend Thanksgiving with more of Dear Husband's family. We were so very thankful for the loaned Ford Expedition we were driving as we set out in blizzard conditions. Arriving in Idaho Falls, the roads closed behind us and before us and at 0 degrees (or lower) we were grateful for the Shiloh Inn and their special stranded travelers rate: Room for five plus breakfast--$65. I think it must have cost at least half that just to heat our room and water, it was so cold outside.

Dear Husband prepared our stranded traveler dinner: microwave nachos (with real cheddar cheese--not the icky saucy stuff) and I curled up to enjoy Active Son's latest read while the wind howled outdoors. Cozy!

Highway fifteen opened in the morning and we were on our way--much better driving than the day before when we had witnessed over 20 cars off the road.

Active Son and Artist Son get a lesson in shoveling snow from their cousin. He's had lots of experience.

Artist Son zip-lining from the backyard fort to the back of the house

Lots of cousin fun

Thanksgiving feasting

Hanging out by the fire with Grandpa

So much fun sledding! I find the screaming that one must do as one must do as one comes down the hill, especially when one's sled turns backwards, to be exhilarating.

The boys grew tired of "normal" sledding and decided to try some stunts.

This was the first one--pretty tame--just holding their sleds together.

The pyramid looked a little risky, but they made it down without spills. Artist Son's good balance came in handy here.

Next, they tried what I call The Dogsled. The "dogs" ate snow but I think Artist Son had a pretty good time.

A Happy Family Thanksgiving

Autumn

2010-11-09T21:07:00.000-08:00

Does the blogosphere really need another amateur photographer's inadequate attempts at capturing the vibrant beauty of fall? Probably not. And yet I've been smitten anew by the exquisiteness of the leaves as they put on an awe-inspiring show of of changing colors. I remarked that I was so enjoying the display of fall color, having it missed the last 15 or so falls while living in the Middle East. Artist Son trumped me: "I've never before experienced the fall colors." We are daily thanking God for the opportunity to experience his artistry in creation during this particular autumn in Boise.

A neighbor friend hired Tayta to rake leaves. He asked her, "What is the going rate for leaf-raking in Jordan, " to which Tayta replied, "I don't know. We don't rake leaves in Jordan."

I couldn't pass up the chance to bring her some hot cider while she raked, completing the autumn moment.

So Happy Together

2010-11-01T22:44:00.000-07:00

Our time together was brief--just about 30 hours if you include the time in the car to McCall and back--but our mini family retreat was just perfect. We enjoyed beautiful weather and beautiful scenery as we hiked together, we ate pizza and popcorn, we sipped tea/coffee/hot chocolate by the fire, we watched I Love Lucy, we played Bananagrams, we slept in, and we prayed together and for each other. As we looked into God's Word together, Dear Husband shared yet more wisdom from Psalm 127:

"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies at the gate."
~Psalm 127: 3-5

Flowering Jordan 2011 Wall Calendar-or-Calendars for Music

2010-10-12T20:07:00.000-07:00

EDIT: My calendars are no longer available on Amazon but I still have about 20 or so, so if you'd like one contact me at desert mom 88 @ gmail. com (leave out spaces). At least for now you can still view the imagines on the Amazon page. Thanks!

I guess this would be the right time of year to mention that my last 50 Flowering Jordan 2011 Wall Calendars are now available for sale at Amazon. If you've read my blog for awhile you know that I enjoy appreciating the beautiful wildflowers of Jordan. I also enjoy taking their portraits, highlighting the unique beauty with which God has adorned each flower.

In the spring I produced my first Flowering Jordan calendar, a project inspired by my desire to raise money for Oldest Daughter's continuing music education. The previous spring, thanks to Tayta, we had Muffins for Music, and this year it is Calendars for Music. What a lovely way to combine three beauties in my life: Jordan flora, music, and Oldest Daughter.

Product Description from my Amazon Page:

The unexpectedly stunning wildflowers of Jordan, from cyclamen to capers, to the enigmatic black iris, bloom on each page of Flowering Jordan's 13 month wall calendar. At the crossroads of three continents, the country of Jordan enjoys great biodiversity, boasting some of the most diverse flora of any place in the world. Although nearly 80 percent of the nation is desert, Jordan has more than 2,500 plant species, including many flowering plants, and several distinct ecosystems.

The calendar is eligible for free shipping.
More images from the calendar may be viewed on my Amazon page.
Jordan residents may purchase calendars from Karis Kraft located near 2nd Circle.

Fashionable Frugality

2010-10-05T20:02:00.000-07:00

Since returning to the US in June, Tayta and I have noticed a recession-induced reality: frugality is fashionable. People seem to be thrifting, consigning, and "repurposing" (we called it recycling) like never before--and they are talking, blogging, even bragging about it! I read in a recent article in Time, those who save the most money are now the "popular" ones; says a woman in a neighborhood mom's group, "Saving is like a sport in our group..."

Maybe this is my time to shine. Today I took Active Son to a thrift store by campus to buy him some winter sweaters . In a brief stop we snagged him a beautiful wool sweater from Cabela's and a cotton zip-up from Old Navy for about $4 each. I'm also working on a recycled denim quilt for his dorm room. I've found many clothes for the kids and myself in other around-town thrift and consignment stores and ebay has helped me save lots of money in the new shoe department.

In the spirit of our re-kindled frugality I offer two new hearty lentil recipes which we've embraced. Both are great cold weather comforts. The first is a recipe from my much used, much stained, and much-loved copy of More With Less, by Doris Janzen Longacre. My kids love this dish. Really!

More With Less

Lentil Barley Stew/Casserole (my version)

2-4 Tablespoons canola oil
3/4 cup chopped celery
3/4 cup chopped onion
1 Tablespoon minced garlic
6 cups water
1 cup lentils
1 14 oz. can diced tomatoes
1 cup barley
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/2 teaspoon rosemary (or thyme)
1/2 cup grated carrots

Saute celery, onion and garlic until soft. Add water and lentils and cook for 20 minutes. Add tomatoes, barley and seasonings and simmer for 45-60 minutes. Add grated carrots and cook 5 more minutes.

I cut the amount of liquid in the original recipe so it turns out more like a casserole, served on a plate rather than a stew served in a bowl. But, you could increase the tomatoes by a can, add a pinch more salt, and serve it as a stew.

The second recipe, for French Lentil Soup, was found on an advertisement laying around my mom's kitchen. I don't know how authentically French this soup is, given the source of the recipe, but it is very good--thick and hearty. We ate it tonight with quick-under-the-broiler flat bread topped with mozzarella and fresh tomatoes.

French Lentil Soup

1 small onion, finely chopped
2 Tablespoons minced garlic
a little canola oil
2 teaspoons dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 (or more) teaspoon pepper
6 cups broth
2-3 medium carrots, peeled and finely chopped
1 cup lentils
3 T brown rice
fresh parsley for garnish

Brown onions and garlic in oil. Add chopped carrots and spices and saute a little longer. Add broth, lentils, rice, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil and simmer for about an hour (mine simmered while I was at the thrift store with Active Son), until lentils and rice are cooked. Puree 1 1/2 cups of the soup and return to the pot of soup. Serve with fresh parsley.

I double both of these recipes as the leftovers make nice lunches.

In Which We Are Vegetable Gardeners

2010-09-07T21:45:00.000-07:00

In Jordan we love to grow flowers in our garden, but due to the lack of water and relatively low vegetable prices we've never attempted vegetable gardening. However, the house where we are staying until the end of September has a small but well situated vegetable garden and last week was harvest time. Truthfully, we are not really vegetable gardeners but merely vegetable harvesters. The homeowners planted the crops before they left for Alaska in April and programmed their drip hoses to water without even so much as a flip of the switch by us. We have done nothing but harvest the literal fruit of their labor.

Tayta has never worked in a vegetable garden before and delighted in finding treasures amongst the vines. And although she can identify fig trees, olive trees, and caper bushes, she surprised me by asking me the name of this crop:

Yikes! She didn't know what a corn stalk looked like. Not a popular crop in Jordan, corn is primarily used for feed. It is sold in the supermarket but I don't buy it as it has never tasted like anything but feed corn.

Our bountiful harvest
Enough for us, some friends, and a couple of neighbors

The tomatoes are amazingly large and delicious. I've been eating tomato sandwiches for lunch every day for the past two weeks or so. Family and friends are asking me to discover the secrets of growing such beautiful tomatoes. Theirs, carefully tended, are not amounting to much this year, and "mine"--at least for this month--are plump and plentiful. The real gardener, in absentia, claims his secret is neglect--the bushes haven't been tended since April (!), but I'm prying further. There must be some yet undisclosed tomato gardening knowledge that he can share.

And here are a couple Armenian cucumbers we missed picking the first time around. Salad for a week!

So, what to do with our bumper crop of tomatoes besides make tomato sandwiches? If I weren't feeling so transitional I would make salsa or pizza sauce. Instead, I determined to use these fresh and/or give them away; I've made two new and well received tomato dishes.

~Tuscan Bread Salad~

Last week I made this salad twice, a modification of this recipe from the Food Network.

Ingredients

8 large vine ripened tomatoes, cut into large cubes
8-10 cups cubed artisan bread (I used sourdough), cubed, a little stale, and lightly toasted in the oven.
1 small red onion, thinly sliced
a couple cups cucumbers, cut into cubes
2 teaspoons minced fresh garlic
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup Italian extra-virgin olive oil
1 /2-1 cup fresh basil leaves, chopped thinly
salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a large bowl, mix the bread with the garlic, oil, and vinegar, and let sit for 15minutes at room temperature. Add the rest of the ingredients toss to combine. Serve. Delicious!

~Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup~

This recipe was easier to make than I expected it would be when I first read the title. Neither the peppers or the tomatoes require peeling and everything is given a final whirl in the blender. I found this recipe in "Cooking With Paula Deen", a magazine which comes to the house in which we are staying. As usual, I've modified the recipe.

Ingredients

2 red bell peppers, seeded and cut into strips
2 T. olive oil
1 cup chopped onion
4 cloves minced garlic
10 medium tomatoes, chopped
1 cup chicken broth
1-2 tsp. salt
1 /2 fresh basil leaves, or 1 tsp. dried basil
freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 T balsamic vinegar

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Line a baking sheet with foil , arrange pepper strips on the sheet, and bake for 15-20 minutes or until soft and a little brown around the edges. In a large pan, saute the onion and garlic in oil. I add a couple teaspoons of sugar when I saute the onions and garlic so as to caramelize them. Add the tomatoes, broth, and salt, and cook for another 10 minutes or so. Puree tomato mixture, roasted peppers, and basil leaves in a blender. Return to pan and add the balsamic vinegar and freshly ground black pepper.

This soup was good served with open faced broiled cheese sandwiches or toasted sourdough bread.

The Future is Here

2010-08-26T21:45:00.000-07:00

Three and a half years ago, when Active Son turned 15, I expressed a few thoughts about his future manhood, recounting the wonder-filled and faith-demanding process as I experienced it then. I pressed on through the next three years with the aim of "looking at the present and seeing what it will become, by grace and good works"(Douglas Wilson, Future Men). God's grace. We both needed a lot of it and he generously provided.

Active Son, Senior Picture, Amman, Jordan, Spring 2010

As we prepared to leave Jordan for an extended time (six months) in the States, I had nary the moment to chronicle those last days of high school, that senior piano recital and reception filling our home with beautiful music and dear friends, that last Boys Scout Court of Honor, that last baseball game, so excellently pitched, and those last good byes to long loved people and places.

And now, the future is here.

And Active Son is on the move. Upon our arrival in the Idaho last June, both Dear Husband and I noted the increased twinkle in Active Son's blue eyes. He was ready for action, the action of moving on and moving out into the the world, to take the place that God was preparing for him.

With in a few days Active Son passed his Driving Learner's Permit exam and in another week, he was a licensed Idaho driver. Just in time as he had begun volunteering at two local hospitals first two, and then four days a week.

On our last evening together before Active Son moved to his dorm room at Boise State University, Dear Husband recalled Psalm 127, a favorite Psalm of our family's and one that Dear Husband had put to song when Active Son was very young:

Unless the LORD builds the house,
its builders labor in vain.
Unless the LORD watches over the city,
the watchmen stand guard in vain.

In vain you rise early
and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
for he grants sleep to those he loves...

From his humble dorm room at Boise State, Active Son would begin to "build his house".

As as we said good-night that evening, Active Son produced cards he had written for each of us, cards full of gratitude and love. Dear Husband caught my eye and whispered, "Did you suggest he write these?" I had not. These were the conception of a thoughtful young man growing in godliness, kindness, and grace. Yes, the future is here.

Making Beautiful Music Together

2010-08-16T19:00:00.000-07:00

Oldest Daughter arrived home last night from a master class in the Czech Republic with just enough energy to give us hugs, eat some lentil-barley stew, pop a melatonin, and head for bed. But today I enjoyed looking at the pictures and hearing the stories with which Oldest Daughter enthusiastically regaled us. This was Oldest Daughter's second time to attend this master class, held in the beautiful Czech town of Litomysl.

All dress rehearsals and three of the public concerts which take place during the master class are held in Litomysl Castle, one of the most revered Renaissance castles in the Czech Republic, and birthplace of the Czech composer Bedrich Smetana.

Litomysl Castle

20 young musicians participating in the master class received private lessons and quartet coachings every day with four internationally renowned faculty (Milan Vitek, Oberlin Conservatory; Peter Slowik, Oberlin Coservatory; Niels Ullner, Carl Nielson Academy of Music, Odense, Denmark; Stephen Clapp, The Julliard School).

Oldest Daughter's Quartet

Smetana Quartet Performed in Smetana's Birthplace

Mr. Milan Vitek, Founder and Artisic Director of the Litomysl Master Class

Oldest daughter counted it a privilege and blessing to spend three weeks interacting with other young musicians, exchanging ideas, and submitting to an intense regime of practicing and rehearsals, resulting in the generation of musical and personal growth and many stimulating performances.

Performance of the Fiser Sonata, Litomysl Castle

Below is a spot on Czech news highlights the opening concert. (Most of it is in Czech, but English snipits of Oldest Daughter, Stephen Clapp, and a Danish cellist are all included.)

Litomysl International Strings Master Class, 2010

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind

2010-08-15T16:05:00.000-07:00

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind: Creating Currents of Electricity and Hope

My inspired and ambitious summer reading plans got off to a slow start this summer and now that summer is nearly over I'm resigned to the fact that I manged to read only a few good books. It seems that transitioning a family of five to a temporary home for six months, graduating and preparing Active Son for college this fall, etc., etc., required much of my time and energy. By early July I had not completed a single title and desperate for a quick, interesting read and the satisfaction of finishing a book I took up this memoir, which is also the "first read" for Boise State University students this fall. Artist Son and Active Son have also read it.

In The Boy Who Harnessed Wind, young William Kamkwamba tells his story, the story of a young boy growing up in poverty and famine stricken Malawi who was deprived of many resources, including education; he had to drop out of school when his father couldn't pay his fees. Undeterred and with a driving desire to learn and help his family, he studied old physics texts on his own, experimented using cast off "junk", and eventually built a windmill that produced electricity for his family home. Villagers mocked him as he worked, remarking that he must be crazy, but after his homemade windmill produced electricity he became a local hero, was "discovered", and sent to school on scholarship. Later he was invited to speak at the global idea conference, TED (Technology, Entertainment, and Design) and now, he attends Dartmouth College.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind seems a great choice for a Boise State students' first read as William Kamkwamba's story reveals the value of an education which is gained from the motivation to learn and to help others. William Kamkwamba will speak at Boise State on August 26 and I plan to be in the audience and maybe I'll bring my book along to be signed.

Idaho Rocks

2010-08-12T00:10:00.000-07:00

Last year, Artist Son began selling his unique artwork: Jordan fauna painted on rocks. This turned out to be a versatile niche so now that he has temporarily re-located to Idaho he has discovered that, when in Idaho, paint Idaho fauna on Idaho river rocks. He began with lizards, frogs, and dragonflies, and per the suggestion of a customer has added what has turned out to be his best selling rocks: butterflies.

Artist Son was accepted as a "Budding Artist" at the Boise Market, a local farmers and artisans' market held in downtown Boise every Saturday from 9:30am-1:30pm. If you are in Boise, Artist Son will be selling at market this Saturday for the last time this summer. After Saturday his rocks will be available by special order--he's already taken a couple Christmas orders!

Chicken in Basil-Coconut-Curry Sauce

2010-07-21T18:20:00.000-07:00

It's time to begin harvesting some of the basil I planted when we arrived in Boise last month and though my seven plants aren't yet producing enough basil to make this favorite recipe , there was enough to make some basil-coconut-curry sauce tonight. Variations of this recipe can be found around the web but my recipe comes from a 1997 Better Homes and Garden magazine. It was a "Prize Tested Recipe" submitted by Neeraga Narayanan, who won $400 for her recipe. Note the 30 minute "marinade" time.

Chicken in Basil-Coconut-Curry Sauce

1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground cardamon
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/4 tsp. chili powder
1/4 tsp. ground turmeric
1 large red onion, chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced
2 jalapeno peppers, seeded and minced (or, to taste)
cooking oil (I use canola)
1 14 oz. can coconut milk
2 tsp. cornstarch
3 Tsp. snipped basil (I use about 1/3 cup)
1 Tsp. finely chopped ginger root

Rinse chicken; pat dry. cut into 1-inch (or bite size) pieces; place chicken in a medium bowl. In a small bowl stir together the salt, coriander, cumin, cloves, cinnamon, cardamon, black pepper, chili powder, and turmeric. Sprinkle the chicken; toss to coat well. Cover and let stand at room temperature for 30 minutes.

In a large skillet medium to large saucepan, cook onion, garlic and jalapeno in hot oil over medium-high heat for a few minutes. Add chicken. Cook and stir until chicken is cooked through. Combine coconut milk and cornstarch. Carefully add to skillet. cook and stir till thick and bubbly. Add basil and ginger root. Cook 2 minutes more to heat through. Serve over rice and garnish with fresh basil if desired.

(I use at least 2 or 2 1/2 lbs of chicken for my family of six. I adjust all the ingredients accordingly except I only use 2 cans of coconut milk even I more than double the chicken--it is still plenty saucy.)

Every Birdie Welcome

2010-07-13T00:13:00.000-07:00

From the back porch of our borrowed home we are enjoying a bit of birdwatching. When we moved in a few weeks ago we heard the faintest chirps coming from yellow birdhouse...

...and within a couple weeks, there were visible signs of life.

Caring for three teenagers and one home-for-the-summer college student, I couldn't help feeling some connection with this busy mother; with no prompt from me, Dear Husband noted the home-scene resemblance.

A Life Well Lived~In Loving Memory of Fawn Winsted

2010-06-30T22:33:00.001-07:00

I first met Fawn Winsted in Beruit, Lebanon. Our family was attending a conference and Fawn and her husband, Brad, along with two of their eight children had come to do a program for the children. As young parents, Dear Husband and I were in awe of this family who lovingly cared for our children and had them enthusiastically reciting a multitude of Bible verses after just a few days, so when we heard that Fawn and Brad would host an informal session to talk about marriage and family issues, we eagerly planned to attend.

Brad and Fawn shared many words of wisdom that afternoon; what I remember most was Fawn candidly telling us of how she, as a mother of many young children, had struggled with embracing her role as a mother and with respecting her husband. We were amazed! How could this be true? She continued by telling us how God graciously showed her the destruction she was causing to her family and how she turned to him for the strength to be the wife and mother that he was calling her to be.

The wisdom shared that afternoon many years ago was not the last we were to receive from Fawn and Brad as our paths crossed again and again, directly and indirectly. We met next in Jordan, where we've had the joy of knowing, fellowshipping, and serving with three of the Winsted children, now grown up. Four more have visited and we've also been blessed by knowing four of her precious grandchildren.

Fawn's children are a testimony of a life well lived, submitted to God with a purpose of glorifying him. All eight of her children walk closely with God, living their lives to love and serve Him as they love and serve those around them. A pioneer home educator, Fawn educated her children as well as developed a children's Sunday School curriculum, and trained others to reach children for Christ. All of Fawn's children have joined her and her husband, Brad, at various times, in teaching and ministering to children all over the world.

As her own children began to spread out around the globe I know that she believed the truth which she once shared with me via a quote by the mother of writer and missionary Patricia St. John:

""Only yielded up in the place of sacrifice are our children perfectly safe." (Psalm 84:3)

Not only her biological children, but her spiritual children as well, rise up and call her blessed. And as the psalmist, Moses, exhorted, so did Fawn Winsted live her life well, numbering her days so that she gained a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:10).

Many hugs and prayers to the dear Winsted family as they mourn the loss of their beautiful wife and mother.

Between Two Worlds

2010-06-25T00:42:00.000-07:00

Traveling from Jordan to "the States" or "home" (our kids always use the first term) for an extended period of time--six and a half months this time, though it is usually three--causes a disturbance to my equilibrium beginning approximately 72 hours before departure. I no longer become anxious about the items that will inevitably be left on my to-do list--the plane will depart and we will be on it--but I still experience an unsettled feeling as I prepare to be lifted out of one world and, approximately 24 hour later, set down into another. The first world is my second home, yet the home I have become accustomed to, the home where I have lived most of my adult life, nearly all my married life, and my entire life as a mother. Our last two trips to the States have involved repatriating eighteen year old children who have not lived in the US for more than three months every two years, an event made all the more poignant by the realization that, though they will visit, they will likely never again reside in the country of their birth and childhood.

Here in the Twilight Zone
The odd occurrence that is international travel seems a fitting transition to my other world, especially when we leave Jordan in the middle of the night. I find peculiar comfort in the familiarity of baggage check-in, security checks, and passport control and there is nothing quite like the relief of discovering that none of the checked baggage is overweight. Strangers become comrades as we commiserate over flight delays, narrow aisles, lost baggage, and tired children. Our various worlds intermingle as we meet friends from the past in international airports and even in the airplane seats next to us, as they, like us, move between their different worlds. And now it is happening to my children: during a layover at JFK, Tayta ran into an American friend in Egypt whom she met at a conference in Turkey.

Does Anybody Really Know What Time it is? Does Anybody Really Care?
Perhaps when one decides to move their watch forward or backward while traveling tells something about him. Some leave their watches synced with the time of the place of departure, changing them only when they have arrived at their destination, some change their watches as soon as they arrive at the airport and some re-set them at each stopover. I've taken various approaches over the years but have found that none of them relieves the confusion which comes with crossing nine time zones. The jet-lag that comes with east to west travel is less severe than the return trip and a melatonin tablet before bed really does promote sound sleep.

Baby, Remember My Name
In general, I have a good memory for people, both faces and names, but changing worlds somehow short circuits my internal roladex; I can find myself greeting someone I've known for 20+ years, trying to remain calm and confident as I inwardly grasp in panic for their name. I also begin calling my children by the names of my siblings--that only happens in Boise. Weird.

A few more challenges, delights, and noted cultural differences of moving between worlds, in no particular order:

Driving: In Jordan I must play close attention while driving because of traffic disorder and the"spontaneity" of the other drivers. Sort of hazardous, but I'm sort of used to it. Now back in the U.S., I must pay close attention while driving because of the traffic order and the predictability of the other drivers. I'm just not used making lane decisions 200 meters (yards) before a turn and merging has a much fuller meaning in Jordan than it does in Boise.

"Better Days Are Coming. They Are Called Saturday And Sunday." A plaque with these words hangs in the home in which we are staying. People in the U.S. really look forward to the weekend. I noticed that by Thursday the weekend was being mentioned and by Friday, it was all about the weekend. People wish each other a good weekend and it isn't unusual for a stranger to ask about your weekend plans. I admit that I am really enjoying the two-day weekend.

Generosity: While scientist Marie Curie worked herself literally to death, she received little financial support from the French for her experiments which led to world-changing discoveries. In contrast, she remarked on her first trip to the US how generous she found the American people. Likewise, we have most certainly enjoyed the generosity of many since we arrived in the US. People in our church body have loaned us their house, two cars, a cell phone, printer, and even a drum set for Artist Son to play on.

Medical Insurance: I'm still trying to figure this out. When making a doctor visit I humbly plead ignorance and ask the doctor's receptionist or pharmacist to tell me what I need to do.

Liking: organic salad greens in a box, $4.99 roasted chickens from Costco (how do they do it?!), quinoa and barley, returning things to stores for a full refund, no questions asked, simply stepping out the front door onto the sidewalk to go running, World Refugee Day, complete with a citizenship swearing in ceremony.

Ironic: After living-mostly peacefully-in the volatile Middle East for 20+ years, it is in the quiet suburbs of Boise that we are awakened at 2am in the morning by the police ringing our doorbell. Our mailbox, along with the neighbor's, had been vandalized by a minor explosion.

Words I've learned to pronounce properly thanks to Oldest Daughter: chipotle, quinoa.

The Green, Green Grass of Home
We've now been in Boise for just about two weeks and my equilibrium has been restored: our family is all together, including Oldest Daughter, to whom we've re-adjusted and who has re-adjusted to us, our suitcases are unpacked, and I've planted some basil in our borrowed back yard. For now, this is home.

My May blogging hiatus...

2010-06-03T06:36:00.000-07:00

...has now extended into June. I can tell we've been too busy when various ones among us (primarily me, Tayta, and Artist Son) can no longer suppress the urge to create something, bursting through the busyness with small works of beauty. As we prepare to receive guests for Active Son's graduation celebration in just a couple hours, Artist Son finishes up my birthday rock, adorned with Star of Bethlehem flowers (birthday was in April) and Tayta puts the final touches on a hand-embroidered purse. Lovely! As for me, I'm finally able to return to my reading, and then there is the recycled denim quilt for Active Son that I'm working on...in my mind.

The Donati String Quartet

2010-05-11T05:52:00.000-07:00

Ahh, youth. And, blessed youth when one is privileged with the leisure to imagine, learn hard, and work hard. Just before winter break, Oldest Daughter and three of her fellow musicians at Oberlin Conservatory decided to form a string quartet. Further, when they returned to campus the first of February they would work very hard attempting to make it into the live audition round (quarter-finals) of the prestigious Fischoff Chamber competition, held annually at Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana. So, during the first week in February rehearsals began in earnest (four-five hours a day on top of their other studies and musical commitments) and after just three weeks of playing together, the Donati String Quartet submitted their dvd--rushed by overnight express--to the competition judges. Below is one of the recordings they made for dvd audition.

The Donati String Quartet

Twas a thrilling moment when the Donati String Quartet learned they had made it to the quarter finals, being invited to the live auditions, held last week at Notre Dame. The weeks before Fischoff--about 12--were, in a word, intense. And while intensity described just about every aspect of their preparation, from rehearsing to learning music, to juggling other obligations, to learning about interpersonal relationships, it was wonderful all.

There really wasn't much disappointment when the quartet didn't make it into the semi-finals. Oldest Daughter said that their quartet didn't deserve to make it to the semi-finals--the groups that did were amazing, playing without error. This disqualification was hardly a loss to their quartet, who in the process of working hard, hard, hard, attracted the attention of the string faculty of Oberlin Conservatory, receiving many extra coachings along the way.

Also along the way, the Donati String Quartet entered and won a competition held by NPR's Performance Today (announced during the last three minutes of Hour 1) and thus will be flown to St. Paul tomorrow to receive a master class with artists-in-residence, The Parker Quartet. And at the end of the week they will fly to Washington D.C. to represent Oberlin at the Kennedy Center's Millenium Stage.

Then there is the matter of a few finals to study for and take when they return to campus--Feet-Back-On-The-Ground.

The other birthday recipe: Oven Roasted Broccoli

2010-04-29T11:23:00.000-07:00

Along with the Lemon Chicken recipe (two posts down), I handed my dear family a two pound bag of broccoli and this recipe for Oven Roasted Broccoli , found at a recently bookmarked blog, Honey and Jam.

Oven Roasted Broccoli
from Epicurious

1 1/4 pounds broccoli crowns, cut into florets (about 8 cups)
3 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 garlic cloves, minced
Large pinch of dried crushed red pepper

Preheat oven to 450°F. Toss broccoli and 3 tablespoons oil in large bowl to coat. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Transfer to rimmed baking sheet. Roast 15 minutes. Stir remaining 1/2 tablespoon oil, garlic, and red pepper in small bowl. Drizzle garlic mixture over broccoli; toss to coat. Roast until broccoli is beginning to brown, about 8 minutes longer. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

I encourage you to click over to Honey and Jam to see the beautiful broccoli pictures this young blogger has posted. And speaking of beautiful food pictures and recently bookmarked blogs, just a little clicking around has revealed a noted blogging trend: young women--some still in high school--who are cooking, baking, photographing and blogging with amazing finesse. At their age I had barely mastered the basic chocolate chip cookie recipe. If you like Honey and Jam, you might also like some of the recipes (and photography) on:

Cooking for Seven
17 and Baking

A couple more cooking blogs I've been following:

Smitten Kitchen
Orangette

I may never buy another cookbook. Well, maybe that's going a bit too far.

Garden Art

2010-04-24T13:20:00.000-07:00

Today as I was doing the morning dishes--well, actually the evening dishes, but I was doing them in the morning--I admired one of my blooming foxgloves from the kitchen window. And as I appreciated its form, slender and reaching, and its color, creamy white blooms and green foliage, I noted that the concrete wall with peeling paint that served as its backdrop did nothing to enhance its beauty. But, wouldn't a black backround look nice? And, the sunlight was hitting the foxglove just perfectly. I left the dishes to search for a piece of black fabric, and after pressing out the wrinkles, I taped it to the wall behind my foxglove.

Foxglove

I guess this is what you call flower portraiture. Pleased with the result of my foxglove picture I set my eyes to searching out other blooming forms and colors which might likewise be enhanced by my black fabric and just the right amount of sunlight. The pink ranunculuses growing nearby were a bit spindly as far as ranunculuses go, but all the better for my picture.

Ranunculus

I think I've found a new angle on an old hobby.