feeling nostalgic

I guess you could call it an addiction because I can't seem to stop.  And then Dan gave me his login information and it's just too easy to buy stuff.  You don't even have to mess with winning auctions anymore, you just 'Buy it Now!'  Amazing.  And Dan, well he is on board, I mean I know he just loves it that his eBay account is now recommending all kinds of vintage Fisher Price toys and sending email notifications that Sesame Street auctions will soon be ending...

I mean look at this stuff...my breath catches in my throat a little.  Yours?




(Insert old man redneck voice) They just don't make them like they used to.  I mean am I right that toys today cannot compare?!  I just can't stand the thought of my kids growing up without this sheep.  So darn cute.  (exit voice)



Here is the new and "improved" version (that I am ashamed to admit we have at our house).  Come on Fisher Price...really?



I guess this nostalgia all kinda started with the thought that funding for PBS/IPTV may not always be there.  And it makes me sad to think about kids growing up without Sesame Street, or a different (most definitely it would be more commercialized) version of the show.  While it has changed over the years (Cookie Monster?  Anyone?) I still enjoy the show thirty years later.  (And while I'm on that subject has anyone else noticed that Gordon hasn't aged a day in 30 years?  What is his secret?)  It was definitely a part of my childhood that I remember dearly.

So the question for me now is - what do I do about all of this?  

a) Go crazy (and broke) buying up all of the toys I used to own.
b) Mourn over and over again that things will never be the same.
c) Consult Mr. Rogers.

I'll go with C.

"Parents are like shuttles on a loom.  They join the threads of the past with the threads of the future and leave their own bright patterns as they go."  Fred Rogers

Yes, I think that's it.  And now, it's time to head back over to eBay for awhile.  In order to preserve the past I'll need a few things...

amy

a father's love

We spent the day Friday at the Omaha Zoo.  It was a first time for all four of us.  The cool weather brought in small amounts of visitors which suited us just perfectly.  This picture highlights one of my favorite parts of the day, when we got to pet and brush and love some baby goats.  It didn't surprise me that Hannah was most into the brushing and AJ was most into barking at them.  I watched smiling as Dan helped them pick the most gentle of the bunch (he was head butted a couple times in the process) and taught them how to pet a goat.  What a beautiful example of a father's love.

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 

my recipe box: pumpkin pie creamer success!

hannah,  center grove orchard, fall 2011

Happy fall everyone!  

Ok, ok, so it's not "officially" fall until the Atumnal Equinox which takes place Saturday, September 22, 2012.  I just googled that for your information, all of you people in love with summer - you've got 15 days.  While I have been dreaming about fall for the past month, I honestly have tried not to rush things.   I didn't even try this new recipe until last week!  I found the recipe here and adjusted slightly.  Enjoy!

Pumpkin Pie Coffee Creamer

1 half pint heavy cream
1 cup whole milk
4 tbsp. pure maple syrup
3 tbsp. pumpkin puree (I used Libby's brand in the can, ingredients = only pumpkin)
2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice (Love Penzey's)
1 tsp. vanilla

Stir together heavy cream, milk, syrup, pumpkin puree, and pumpkin pie spice in a small saucepan on low heat until it steams (try not to boil).  Remove from heat, strain through a fine sieve (pouring over cheesecloth in a small strainer also works) and add vanilla.  Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator, will keep up to two weeks.

*note* while typing out this recipe I discovered an error on the Cinnamon Maple Coffee Creamer recipe posted last month.  It should have been one HALF pint of heavy cream.  I have updated the post.  Ooopsies.

And...recipe coming up next...Cranberry Cider...just for you (Melanie Clark)!!  Just in time for those cool temperatures (that are hopefully better be around the corner)!  It's the best.  Seriously.  Makes me want to knit up a pair of those cute little fingerless gloves so I can fashionably have my morning cup at the bus stop.  If only I knew how to purl.

HAPPY FALL!

ps.  If you aren't reading this from a phone you may notice I have blog music now.  Hope you enjoy my fall inspired playlist.

smile (maybe tomorrow)

my sister jenny, me, & my sister holly with dad - christmas 1983

Yes, we do smile.  But not today.  Today we mourn. (Ecclesiastes 3:4)

James Bruce Netley

February 28, 1947 - August 30, 2010

***
Smile though your heart is aching

Smile even though it's breaking

When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by

If you smile through your fear and sorrow

Smile and maybe tomorrow

You'll see the sun shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness

Hide every trace of sadness

Although a tear may be ever so near

That's the time you must keep on trying

Smile, what's the use of crying?

You'll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just smile

That's the time you must keep on trying

Smile, what's the use of crying?

You'll find that life is still worthwhile 

If you just smile

(Artist: Nat King Cole

Words by John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons

Music by Charlie Chaplin)

one picture

I captured this photo in Hannah's room yesterday and just had to share it.

Points of interest:
1. Rapunzel and Flynn are still sleeping in separate beds, so that's good.
2. You might notice Flynn has a cute little nightcap, which is actually one of Hannah's fuzzy slipper socks.
3.  Hannah told me the blankets rolled up at their feet are because that is what the little girl in the "Elf" movie has on her bed (I haven't verified this, but either way you know I'm impressed with the Christmas movie reference - and no, we haven't watched it yet this year.)
4.  I snuck upstairs and listened outside her bedroom door as she told them a story before nap.  I couldn't make out much of the story but it began "And this was your Papa Jim.  Papa Jim Netley."

Love.

owning it

Maybe it's in the near turning of 35, or the passing of my father, or the daily adult questions coming out of my four year olds mouth, in which Dan's "I don't know buddy, eat your pancake" type of response is no longer satisfactory; responsibility has been swapping me in the face lately.  (You might call it a fly swatter, Hannah calls it a "swapper.")

It has gotten me doing a little thinking and if I'm being honest, a little panicking.  Because somehow I have to pull myself together to explain parts of death to a four year old (she asks me about it almost every day).  Because somehow I need to let go of things that make me sad; a devastating event that I will never comprehend, and trust that God had a reason.  And because somehow instead of always being on the receiving end, it is time for me to learn to more often be the giver.  Responsibility.  Heavy.

I ended up here.

My stack of bibles.  Where I have most often found hope and encouragement.  Let's take a look, from the top down: a) Pocket New Testament, inherited from my dad, a gift he received from his Sunday school class b) The Living Bible, also inherited from my dad, an anniversary gift he received from my mother (previous post here) c) Sanctuary, NLT women's devotional bible, a Christmas gift from my mother in law Jan a few years ago d) Good News Bible, a gift from my Sunday school class e) NIV, a gift from my step sister Jennifer the day our parents were married f) NASV Ryrie Study Bible, a confirmation gift from my church.  Are you seeing a theme here?  All of them were a gift to me. Not to discredit that; they are of course some of the most important gifts that I have ever been given.  But at what point does my faith become less about the gift I have received, and more about the responsibility of giving it to others?  When do I begin to pray for others more than I pray for myself?

I started running again in February of this year.  I don't consider myself a "runner," I am far too flaky for that.  In fact, in the midst of hot summer temperatures I have pretty much determined if you were to label me then "fair weather" would most certainly have to precede "runner."  In any case, I am enjoying the comfortable temperature runs for many reasons:  it is a great way to start the day as it clears my head and helps me focus, it helps me to feel like I have accomplished something for the day (other stay at home moms may relate), and lastly, and how this relates to the rest of this post - I am responsible for it and have the satisfaction of complete ownership.  Of course I have the support and encouragement of other family and friends that also enjoy running, and thankfully a husband that encourages me to get up and go and very willingly takes care of our kids that wake with the sun.  My point is that support only goes so far - I have to be the one that runs, nobody else can grind out that first mile for me.  But with that also comes a great sense of accomplishment - because nobody else can.  And one morning while I was out on a run it hit me, so it is with faith.  It is time for me to own it.  Nobody else can.  It is my own responsibility.

I ended up here.

My very own brand new Life Application Study Bible (NLT).  For me.  Chosen by me.  Paid for by me.  It's the bible that I will use for...ever, which is hopefully a very long time.  I haven't yet, but will soon be paging through all of the old bibles and noting favorite verses and cards left inside the pages, those gentle reminders of faith that I have saved through the years of Sunday school, youth groups, friends from TLCC, etc...what lasting impressions and memories exist on tiny pieces of paper!  And is the case with my father, it is my hope that someday when my children remember me, this bible will not be far from those memories. 

I ended up here.  Psalm 46:1, this is where my bookmark (and my heart) belongs.

(In memory of my dad and where he marked The Living Bible I inherited)