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Tag: Mom

February’s French chef and chef-d’oeuvre

February’s French chef and chef-d’oeuvre

While digging around in our greeting-card drawer post, I came across several artsy choices. I flipped them over to check the creator’s name and realized the cards must have been a long-ago gift from Mom and Dad, as the artist was their “neighbor” Jacques Pépin. They weren’t borrow-a-cup-of-sugar neighbors (although both parties would surely have been generous with their sucre); they lived about a mile apart. My parents were delighted to stop for a casual chat with Chef when they…

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‘Look Now’

‘Look Now’

Our siblings and cousins are checking in this afternoon, asking each other how the blizzard is treating them. Here in southern Indiana, we did not have snow in the forecast. Yet, yesterday and today, a few flakes managed to blow around. Very few. Connecticut and New York are getting hit hard, with heavy snow and high winds. True to form, Harry’s wife, Linda, good-naturedly grumbled about only getting a few inches in Maine. This doesn’t exactly meet the “historic proportions”…

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‘The Suitors’

‘The Suitors’

Growing up, storytime with Mom wasn’t so much about princes and princesses. The theme was more witches, black cats, and cauldrons. Yet in 2005, as a grandmother of seven, she wrote about the princes who came to visit one day. The Suitors The princes came Somehow she stayed awakeenduring flattery and flufftheir mouths were coffersfull of father lips were tired of smilingof eyes of searchingnot one would she wishto rule beside her They left at lastshe walked into her garden…

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The Virgil fan

The Virgil fan

Had I studied four of the dozen books of the Aeneid – in Latin, no less! – I do believe I’d have spent the rest of my life complaining about it. Not Mom, though … a high-school senior, she wrote Virgil a fan letter. It was in the style of his epic poem, of course: On Completing Book Four of the Aeneid Farewell, proud poet of a thousand years,Thou instigator of our common tears –Thou prompter of the midnight oils…

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The fair-play blue jay

The fair-play blue jay

I was really hoping to find out “turnabout is fair play” was coined by William Shakespeare. Alas, its earliest application may be lost to history, but Abraham Lincoln was an early user of the phrase, so we’ll keep it in play with today’s story. As you may recall, my father‘s entire life of home ownership was tortured by squirrels (see Nuts to you! from 2019). He and Mom loved to feed the birds in their many backyards, from Massachusetts to…

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A fever, the plague, and some terrible advice

A fever, the plague, and some terrible advice

The new year started out with a light-hearted book, but quickly turned to darker tales. Book 1: Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren I have such a clear recollection of Mom bringing Pippi Longstocking home to me from the library back in the mid-1960s. I’m pretty sure I read it in a day. When the Folio Society offered this volume with such delightful illustrations, it was time for a re-read. Pippi’s energy and strength are unmatched. And that hair! The re-read?…

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Momma’s Meatloaf

Momma’s Meatloaf

Mom would call this Meatloaf Weather. Frigidly cold, snowy, with no end in sight. Here’s her recipe, which she sent to me shortly after Gary and I married. I don’t know the story behind the name – could it be her mother’s recipe? Or, more probably, it’s a combination of recipes from friends, relatives, Dad’s feedback, and the back of the oatmeal container. Momma’s Meatloaf 1 lb. (or more) ground beef3/4 to 1 cup quick oatsonion (optional)2 eggs, beaten2 Tablespoons…

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Who’s afraid of poetry?

Who’s afraid of poetry?

Who’s afraid of poetry? Good question! Mom asked this half a century ago. The answers may well be the same today: Four Tell Who’s afraid of poetry?Not I, said the football player.I don’t understand it, butthe words are kind of pretty. Who’s afraid of poetry?Not I, said the busy housewife.I even write some. It’s not goodbut it makes me feel good. Who’s afraid of poetry?Not I, said the dilettante.I never was. But I don’t like this sharing;it’s getting to be…

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‘Placing the Chair’

‘Placing the Chair’

Yesterday morning, what may well have been a murmuration of starlings came racing through our back woods like a blinding blizzard. I just happened to be perched in my comfy chair in the sunroom, with a wide-eyed panoramic view of the squall. It was wild! Farmer Gary later explained to me the birds are rather frantic this time of year, looking for food and a bit of warmth. They flew in from the northwest and crowded in the tree branches…

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‘January Thaw’

‘January Thaw’

The mercury hit 57 today and may make it even higher tomorrow. That is what you call a January Thaw! Thing is, there’s nothing to thaw. No snow since last month, and even then, not much to brag about here in southern Indiana. No doubt that will change in the coming weeks and I’ll eat my words, crunching on icicles all the while. Growing up in western Massachusetts, we had a January thaw each year. The best part (next to…

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