Unique and Findable

Posted by random olio

This Sunday is Mother’s Day. Each year it feels like just another day to me. I think of my mom and grandma and it makes me sad, and then that just feels like a waste of time. Last year and again this year I think about my sister and how much she loves motherhood (well most of the time I think). I love watching her with Charlie. It is like she has settled into herself in a way that feels almost impossible to explain. It suits her. Her admiration for that little bambino is awe-inspiring to watch, and she always has Charlie’s best interest in mind.

Last week I saw the most precious video on motherhood, and wanted to share for all those moms, grandmas, and sisters who mother. It is a video that shows that we are all truly unique, whether it is our smell, skin, or hair. Somehow these little ones know what is important. Even blindfolded they know what home means, they know who their mother is, and watching it unfold is priceless.

Make sure to tell your mom or grandma or sister how much they mean to you this Sunday (or every day). If you are nearby touch their skin and hair, make physical contact and connect with them in a deep way. You might not be three years old, but I am sure they will feel just as honored as these mothers did…

https://youtu.be/DRoqk_z2Lgg

“I do what I please.”

Posted by random olio

Sometimes others remind us of someone from our past, maybe a family member, friend, or someone who we barely knew. This woman reminds me of my grandma (Granny Smith). She is 97 years old. My grandma was 94 when she died, and I have to say this woman not only looks amazing, but she is determined and has a spark that I think is lost in our elders. Especially her line: “I do what I please.” Often we are the ones that take that spark away.

I can remember when my brother, sister, and I had to have the conversation with my grandma that we no longer felt comfortable with her driving anymore. She was probably mostly fine, but what scared us the most was her defense mechanisms, they just were not as responsive as they were in her younger age. We feared for others on the road. Either it was because of her slower speeds, or that her car basically drove on its own. You barely had to tap the accelerator. It was a 1977 Chevy Caprice Classic, with less than 60,000 miles, which basically means she drove it about 2500 miles a year, or 48 miles a week. This was in the early 2000’s and her car was over 20 years old – and basically my age. We knew we had to have her stop driving and sell her car. A tough conversation with a woman who was extremely independent and had lived alone for the past 40 years after her husband had died.

This video reminds me how much more we can do to help those that are aging feel like they matter, that they can help others, and that as long as it is not dangerous to themselves or to others, we need to make sure they can continue to live and do the things they are capable of doing. Just remember we are all going to be old someday too, so maybe the Golden Rule needs to be applied in these cases. The video is part of a movement called: “I Like Giving.” Enjoy and be grateful for the elders in your life, the ones that can still boss you around, and those that may not be here, but have left you with memories.

Random recipe: Ned Ludd’s Skillet Cookie

Posted by random olio

As a kid going out to pizza was a big deal in my house. Usually the luxury was bestowed upon us by my grandma. She treated us when we were at her house and she did not want to cook, or when we begged her for pizza. I was more a fan of thick crust pizza, but when my sister, grandma, and I were together, they usually beat my choice which meant we had Pizza King. Known for their thin crust Pizza (and locations only in Indiana), it was the default quick and easy meal, and a luxury to us kids. The pizza was fine to me (although I have craved it in the past few years) but my favorites were the breadsticks, and if I was very lucky the massive chocolate chip cookie. It was the size of an 8 or 10 inch pizza.

Since Chris loves cookies of most kinds (sans snickerdoodles and sugar cookies) I am always on the lookout for a new cookie recipe. This one was a bit different as it is one big cookie in a skillet (just like my childhood Pizza King cookie, only much thicker).

Before

Ned Ludd’s Skillet Cookie
(Published in Portland Monthly Magazine, December 2014)

1 cup plus 2 tbsp all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1 large egg
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup 75-percent cacao dark chocolate wafers
Flake salt for finishing
10-inch cast-iron skillet

MAKE THE DOUGH
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. In a bowl whisk together flour and baking soda, and set aside. In a standing mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat butter and sugar on medium speed until well combined, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, add the egg, salt, and vanilla extract, and continue beating until combined. Add flour-soda combo mix until just incorporated. Using a spatula, fold in chocolate wafers.

After

BAKE THE COOKIE
Flatten the dough inside a 10-inch skillet. Bake for around 30 minutes, or until the center is just set. To simulate Ned Ludd’s blackened, bitter crust, turn the broiler on and cook a minute or two longer, taking care not to burn the top completely. Remove from oven and sprinkle with flake salt. Serve with a small glass of milk, or pour milk right over the top while the cookie’s still hot and watch it sizzle.

Makes one 10-inch cookie.

It is delicious. If you like a crispy thin cookie this will not be your thing, but if you like a crispy outside and soft, almost cake-like inside this just might hit the spot. We ate it for a few days, and I have to say that warming it and pouring the milk, half and half, or heavy cream on top is a must. There is something about the cookie with the flake salt, and the cold cream mixture that makes a mouthful of flavors.

Put your lipstick on before you sew

Posted by random olio

I grew up learning how to knit, bake, and sew. Not necessarily in that order. My grandma taught me how to knit, my mom (and 4-H) taught me how to bake and sew. I also often baked with my grandma. I have so many memories of screwing something up while knitting and getting frustrated. Baking was much easier. It might not have come out perfectly but it was usually at least edible. Sewing on the other hand often drove me crazy. My mom had this old singer sewing machine. (Image from Google). My sister would have to confirm if this was the same model, if it is not, then it is at least close. Making a bobbin and then threading that thing was horribly frustrating. I remember many times throwing the bobbin across the room.

When I started my handbag business in my twenties, my mom was not around to get me through using her old Singer. So I got rid of it, and instead purchased a Bernina, and rarely do I have a problem using it. It got me through 5 years of my business, with many very late nights and early mornings, just me and the Bernina.

So when I found this hilarious advice from a 1949 Singer Sewing manual I could not stop laughing. “Have your hair in order, powder and lipstick put on.” Never, ever in my life have I put on lipstick before sewing. I am not even sure if I put any lipstick on for my wedding day. The only mental preparation I needed before using that old Singer was to not throw it across the room. Maybe that is why they made them so heavy.

“If you are constantly fearful that a visitor will drop in or your husband will come home and you will not look neatly put together, you will not enjoy your sewing as you should.”

I am at a loss for words. Actually no I am not. Chris often sees me in my pajamas all day on a Saturday. He might softly mention that it might be good to take a shower, but he often sees me at my worst, and he has only seen me with lipstick a handful of times in our 12+ years together. My how the world has changed in the last 65 years. I will have to get my hands on a 2015 Singer Sewing manual so I can be inspired by their advice and all the things I should do before I start to sew.

Ordinary Talismans

Posted by random olio

Common objects. Ordinary. Talismans.

I take two kinds of photos — people and odd objects. You know when you see that toothpick sticking out of the parking meter, or a bike is leaning oddly on its front tire and somehow holding up the weight of itself? Whatever the oddity, I find beauty in the common objects in life found in rare or strange places. At times, we find that a common object strikes a deep chord within us. It brings back memories that are strong and often vivid. Our own talisman of sorts.

Over the weekend we were at a local holiday artisan market that was nested within a new/used hardware store. I saw a few holiday trinkets that started a flowing thought process of the talismans in my life. I saw a bottle opener in the shape of pliers, vintage hammers, and a few construction-esque items that brought back memories of my dad’s plethora of tools meant to help him build, fix, and maintain the homes of many in my hometown. Beside the random fart greeting card, or joke about going bald, tools are often a talisman reminder of my dad. So are the moments when I wished I had watched him fix a pipe, build a deck, or the endless other projects I could have gained valuable and tangible knowledge to bring to my home today.

My other talismans? Pepsi and Daisies. Random, I know, but each remind me of my mom and grandma. My grandma’s daily drink was a Pepsi, and while I do not drink soda, from what I can remember my last 2-liter drinking of Pepsi was with her. It would probably taste nasty to me, like a syrup IV, but it will forever be my reminder of good ‘ole Granny Smith. I can also rarely pass by a daisy and not think of my mom. Sometimes to the point of having tears in my eyes. While I have not embraced, spoken to, or seen her for over twenty years, a daisy can bring back the strongest of memories. They are resilient, last forever, and are the simplest of flowers. While my mom did not last as long as she should have, she was one resilient and simple lady. Call my sappy, but the daisy is a quick reminder of her and her last words to me: “Be strong.”

What are the talismans of your day-to-day world?