my recipe box: hot cranberry cider

Have you noticed the fall tingly leaves are changing breeze is blowing tiny chill in the air feeling is here?  I have.  It's hard not to.  I was out driving with the kids the other day and we were having so much fun playing our fall "game."  It's not really a "game," but they think it is and that is all that matters.  I have just now decided to call it Shout it out across the mountain tops when you see beautiful fall leaves!  You may have guessed, that is what you do.  You see leaves, you shout colors, types, whatever you want!  It's quite silly.  Please try it.  So we were playing Shout it out across the mountain tops when you see beautiful fall leaves! and then we talked about how cool it is that God made trees do that.

Ponder that while you make a pot of Hot Cranberry Cider.  It makes your kitchen smell fantastic.  This is a recipe that I got from my mom, I simply changed the name.  Previously named Hot Cranberry Punch, I renamed it mainly because I don't have a punch bowl.  Nor silver ladle.   Yeah that...and it tastes like cider.

Hot Cranberry Cider 

32 oz. cranberry juice

8 C. water

2 C. sugar

4 whole cinnamon sticks

1 Tbsp whole cloves

1/4 C. lemon juice

1 C. no pulp orange juice

Pour cranberry juice, water, & sugar into a large pot.  Use cheesecloth to tie up cinnamon sticks & cloves and place into pot.  (You can skip this step, I just think it is easier than straining when finished)  Bring to a boil and then simmer for 10 minutes.  Add lemon and orange juices and heat a few more minutes.  Remove spices.

Wherever it is that you have your cup, be it on the morning commute in your car, or when you finally get a moment to yourself at your desk, while your children are napping, or at the end of a tiring day, I wish you peace.

amy

In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter, morning and evening - no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air. ~ Alexander Smith