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Posts Tagged ‘baking’

Last week, we got the message that my Grandfather had been air-lifted to the hospital, from his home on Cortes Island. News trickled in throughout the day, and it was later confirmed that he had had a heart attack. Today my Grandpa is safe at home and recovering from the ordeal.
I am truly thankful; the outcome could have been very different. I felt spurred on, to encourage others to cherish your loved ones while they are with you. Isn’t it true, that we often take for granted those who are dearest to us?
My Grandparents have always played a big role in my life. My brother, sister and I went to live with them for a time, when I was 8. They live in the same house now as they did then. I have fond memories of the paper bag lunches that I took to school; especially the ham and cheese sandwiches on home-made bread. Grandma loved to give us all the food that kids love; macaroni with cheese, and ice cream sundaes with chocolate sauce.
My Grandmother loves to fish. It was, and still is, her passion. I remember the early morning boat rides; the boat pounding on the waves, until we had found just the right spot. I would let my fingers stream through the water and lick the salt off of them after they had dried. Grandma would help me with the tackle and then I would trail my line expectantly in the water as we trolled.
Grandma’s excitement was infectious and we would both be grinning wildly, as my line bobbed and I reeled in my catch. Strange creatures would emerge from the depths. Sometimes it would be a codfish with bulging eyes and poisonous spines, that left my fingers stinging where I’d touched them. The fish that we caught, always tasted the best.
Grandma would read to us each night. I laugh now, as I think back to those nights. We would be right in the middle of an exciting passage of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” and Grandma would nod off while she read. “Grandma!” my brother and I would call out, and she would start reading again. This scenario would be repeated several times each evening, until the chapter was finished and Grandma could have her much needed rest.
Grandpa loved to garden and bake. He made all the bread, pies and cookies. My favourite cookies were the oatmeal ones with a mound of jam in the centre of each. The mouth watering aroma would meet us even before we had opened the door. I would come in tired after a busy day at school, and be refreshed at the sight of all those cookies cooling. We would nimbly munch away, being careful not to burn our mouths on the hot jam in the center.
In grade 7, I fell behind in math. I felt lost and started to dread my class. Mom told me to go see Grandpa, and in one hour, all the concepts that had eluded me, fell into place. I have loved math ever since.
My grandparents live on one acre and there was always an assortment of animals. I remember with a smile, the old folk’s home that was there when I was a child. The old folk’s home was a shed, with an assortment of ducks and geese that were blind and crippled, and long past laying an egg. Those birds had a comfortable retirement.
My grandparents also owned several sheep. Each morning, my Grandfather would lead the sheep to the neighbour’s pasture and each evening, he would lead them home. I would sometimes be filled with wonder, as I watched the sheep follow my Grandfather along the road. I could never get near them; they always ran when my siblings and I tried to get too close, and yet, here they were, calmly following Grandpa.
Sadly, I never got to know my grandparents, on my Dad’s side very well. I just didn’t get to see them very often after my parents split up and my Grandpa died when I was about 11. I wrote to my Grandmother for the last few years of her life and I am thankful for the relationship that we developed. It had been many years, though, since I’d seen her, and I deeply regretted that after she died.
Regret is a very sad emotion and I’d like to encourage others to make that phone call, send a card or tell those who are dearest to you, that you love them. Cherish them while you can.

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I Am Thankful

It is one thing to be blessed, but it is quite another thing to know that you are blessed. I am thankful that I can look around me and see, not just the work and hardship, but the precious gifts that fill my life. My life is very busy with 5 small children, and a house and garden to tend to, but it is my prayer that I will not just rush through the days. I want to savour the moments.

My children love baking and I am trying to include them more. It is tempting to just do it myself. After all, it is easier and probably quicker too, but I am reminded that children grow quickly. It won’t be long until I will be able to bake in peace, I think I’ll be wishing though, that I had little helpers.

Yesterday I made bread. I gave a lump of dough to each child, and they set out to make pieces of art with it. Myra spent almost an hour crafting a family. The mother had tiny, intricate braids. There were beds for everyone and even a highchair and bib for the baby. Melanie also made a family and Ethan made wonderful monkeys. Owen made bug faces. 🙂

The girls are wanting to bake more on their own now. They positively glow when someone says that the cake is good, and I can tell them that Myra or Melanie made it. Of course the eggs are still a bit tricky. I get them to crack the eggs into a cup, and the cat gets the ones that end up on the counter.

I am thankful for my family and friends. I am thankful for the moments that make up my life. I am thankful to know that I am blessed. Each of these gifts are from the hand of God.

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