Humpback Bridge

     There are still new treasures around every corner in this and neighboring counties. B. took me to Humpback Bridge in Allegheny County today. Built in 1857, it's a beautiful, old landmark and a perfect picnic spot for the family. A swift, but shallow, creek with a pebbled bottom makes a great place for children to play and there is a grassy picnic area within arms reach. When you walk inside the bridge you are transported back in time by that wonderful, old wood smell that only antiquities can emanate. The post and beam construction and huge beams that were used to construct the bridge are a testament to that rare combination of beauty and functionality. Even though it was a drizzly day, B. packed a light picnic that was delicious.
     Thanks again to Tess, who minded the fort while I went out. Mom was happy to make pudding when I returned. She received her first letter in the mail from a nephew (Her nephew is eighty-two!) and the day ended fairly well. She told me at dinner that she needs to write a letter to another nephew. I believe we've stumbled upon a hobby she enjoys with this letter-writing. She dictates them to me and I take care of the rest. : )

    

An Apple Pie Day

     Today was a laid back kind of day. We had no plans other than to grill steaks and perhaps light a few sparklers. Mom feels better when she has things to do. She was a fantastic pie baker in her day, so I decided we could bake an apple pie together. She can no longer make an entire pie, but she can peel the apples so this was her task. Steve asked that we make it a lattice top, and voila! Here we have it. It was a delicious end to our day, served with vanilla ice cream, of course. We hung out on the porch for the evening and Steve plucked out the Star Spangled Banner, Jimmy Hendrix style, on one of my dad's electric guitars. I liked how the sound echoed over the field and off the treeline. I hope the neighbors all the way down the road enjoyed it. Haha!
     I stole some time upstairs to continue my project of repainting one of the bedrooms. It felt good to finish up the final details of the room and I'm excited about the change in color. I love to have projects and this one has been a satisfying transformation. The room was a mossy green color and I brightened it up by changing it to a shade of yellow. It required three coats of paint to get that green covered, even using Benjamin Moore's paint and primer in one. While I was at it, I decided to repaint the trim as well.  My goal is to simplify the house by using the same shade of white on every bit of trim. Until now, each room had a different shade of white trim, depending on our whim when we originally painted the rooms. This makes it very confusing when touch-ups are needed. Now, with Benjamin Moore Dove White on everything, life just got simpler. Plus, it looks good.
     The most exciting happening of the day came in the form of a phone call. It all started while sorting through my father's things a few weeks ago. Among his things I found a note from one of my dad's army friends scribbled on a newsletter. It was dated thirty years ago. My late father's silence of his war experience never made sense to me against the fact that he saved everything relating to his service. I've been intrigued that he would speak nothing of something that was obviously so very important to him. I decided to look this man up on Google and see if he was perhaps still alive. If so, maybe he wouldn't mind speaking to me. His name and phone number were listed online so I gathered up my nerve and dialed. I got a generic answering machine and left a message explaining who I was. Personally, I hoped I didn't sound like a crazy lady. Apparently I sounded perfectly normal because his daughter returned my call today! She is as excited as I am to make this connection. Her father is indeed still alive. He is ninety years old and remembers my dad well. It turns out that my dad was a pack rat and saved everything yet talked very little about the war and this man saved nothing yet recounts his war experience all the time. His daughter and I chatted for half an hour and agreed that I would begin corresponding by letter with her dad. I am thrilled to finally have an avenue that might lead to connecting the puzzle pieces of my dad's memorabilia. I'm particularly interested to know my dad's role in the infamous Battle of the Bulge and the horrific loss of the 551st Paratrooper division, of which I believe my dad was involved. I also enjoy writing letters and this man's daughter said her father is going to love this.
     It seemed appropriate that she should call on the day we celebrate our country's independence. She and I agreed that our fathers' service in World War 2 greatly impacted their lives and shaped the way they raised us, their children, to be patriotic and filled with respect for our country, even with all its flaws.
    

A Tale of Zucchini, Chapter Three

    Another wonderful recipe from my grandmother that I've shared before are these tender rounds of zucchini dipped in batter and fried in olive oil. I could eat a whole plate of these, but I generously shared with three other people tonight. The amounts of ingredients are vague because it's one of those recipes passed down from one generation to the next.

1 egg
1 Tablespoon flour (it usually takes more to get the right batter consistency)
salt
dried Basil (maybe a 1/2 teaspoon? More if you like.)
1 small zucchini (for a largish zucchini, I would triple these ingredients)
Olive oil for frying


Whisk eggs, add flour, Basil, and salt.It should be the consistency of pancake batter and stick to the zucchini slices.
Slice zucchini into rounds about 3/8" thick. Dip into the batter and then fry in hot olive oil until tender. Sometimes an extra sprinkle of salt on the finished rounds is nice.

     There's no such thing as a small zucchini in our house this summer. One day there are no zucchini on the vine and the next day there are three and they're as big as baseball bats.
Mom can't stand long enough to fry things on the stove anymore, but she watched me for a little while. She said when she was little, her mother would fry any leftover batter and give it to her. What do you think mom found on her plate tonight?

How Could I Expect That It Wouldn't Get Ugly?

     Apparently there will be good days and bad days. Nothing new there. The good days are when I feel like mom might be settling in. The bad days are when she still believes this is a vacation and she is miserable here and wants to go home. She's convinced that she can live alone and take care of herself and she was doing just fine before I butted in.

"There are none so blind as those who will not see. The most deluded people are those who choose to ignore what they already know."     John Heywood

   The bad days are the days she argues and stares out the window and rocks in her rocking chair. I recall from my growing up years that if mom was rocking in the rocking chair, it wasn't good. That meant she was thinking too much and had a lot of nervous energy. She pretty much rocked all day today.
     She is in denial about how bad her living conditions and health had become while living alone. If given a chance, she would go back home in a heartbeat and live that way again. Her home would become her coffin. My heart breaks for her inner struggle and the sorrow she feels of missing her home. I understand. I pray in time that those feelings will wane and she might find a little comfort and even joy in her remaining days, weeks or years.
     I've been out of my mother's house for so many years that I forgot how my mom could be. On weekly visits over the past thirty eight years, I only saw the nice side of her. All the tumultuous years fell away and we began to get along very well. Unfortunately, she's still the same mom and I'm still the same daughter. Oil and water. I had forgotten how my sisters, dad and I devoted our lives in trying to make mom happy. We survived by walking on eggshells and trying ever so hard not to upset mom. It was an impossible task. (Daughters, please tell me this is not me! If I have ever parented like this, I apologize with my deepest regret!) My biggest challenge is this: How do I maintain my identity and my joy and not allow my mother to suck that away from me because of her own unhappiness? I had fully girded myself to care for a frail and elderly mom. But I had overlooked the possibility that a frail and elderly mom can still be manipulating and emotionally abusive. How did I miss that?
     Friends have been wonderful this week by inviting me out for coffee. Tess graciously stayed home with grandma so I could go. It felt good to drive down the road and be alone. I thought, "There you are! You've been lost and it's so good to find you again!" It's unusual for there to be dissension and arguing in our home. We went through a spell of that when our daughters were teens, but we outgrew that and our home is a peaceful haven now. There is never, ever any fighting or pointless arguing around here. My mom has changed that up a bit and it's difficult for me to adjust to the stress.
     As a friend said to me yesterday, this is about how I will change, not about expecting a ninety-three year old to change. One of the biggest lessons I'm learning is about the way I love my own daughters. Never, ever would I or will I go into their homes and be anything short of gracious. I appreciate my daughters fully and their lives are not, and should never, be about me.
     In the midst of struggle, here are Three Beautiful Things : )
1. I walked away from the house with Henri. We broke into a run, up the back hill. I turned to look back at the mountains. "See, nothing is changed", I told myself. "The world is still there."
2. As my heart raced and tears of frustration sprang forth, all I could do was recite Psalm 23. "The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restores my soul..." and I feel my heartbeat calm.
3. Steve, Claire, Chelsea, Audrey, and Tess. (Daniel, Mari, Jack, Matthew, Jared, Simon, and January Baby)

What To Do with All That Zucchini

     All this bounty of the season has us eating our vegetables! The curse of the zucchini is upon us and we've been turning them into delicious meals. One of my favorite recipes comes from my grandmother's Italian kitchen and the other recipe is from a neighbor way back in our New York days. If you like Ratatouille, then you will like the Stewed Zucchini recipe. It's a bit simpler than Ratatouille, very quick to make, and generously flavored with Italian herbs. My mother and grandmother would break two eggs and scramble them up into the pot at the very end. As a child, the egg bits troubled me and I haven't gotten over that, so I leave those out. The other recipe for Italian Zucchini Crescent Pie was shared by a neighbor who grew a huge garden and loved to cook. This is the part of sharing recipes that I like, you will always think of that person when you make their recipe. At least I do. This on uses refrigerated crescent dough for the crust, at which the editors of Bon Apetit would probably shudder. But I like the texture and saltiness of this crust, so I never substitute for it.

                                               Italian Zucchini Crescent Pie

4 c. zucchini, thinly sliced

1 c. onion, chopped

½ c. butter or margarine

½ c. parsley, chopped or 2 Tbl. parsley flakes

½ tea. salt

½ tea. pepper

¼ tea. garlic powder

¼ tea. basil

¼ tea. oregano

2 eggs, beaten

2 c. (8 oz.) mozzarella, shredded or Muenster, shredded

1 pkg. crescent rolls

2 tea. mustard

 In hot butter, cook and stir zucchini and onion for 10 minutes. Stir in parsley, salt, pepper, garlic, basil and oregano. Combine beaten eggs and mozzarella. Stir into zucchini mixture.

Separate 8 oz. can crescent rolls into 8 triangles. Place in ungreased 9” pie pan; press over bottom and up sides to form crust. Spread crust with 2 teaspoons mustard. Pour vegetable mixture onto crust.

Bake in 375 F. oven for 18-20 minutes or until center is set. (Cover crust with foil during last 10 minutes of baking.) Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Stewed Zucchini 
   

1 large zucchini, cubed (1”thick slices, quartered)
½ large onion, chopped
¼ c. celery leaves, chopped
1 large (32 oz.) can plum tomatoes (or 3 large, fresh tomatoes, peeled, quartered and liquid squeezed off)
Salt, pepper and basil to taste
2 eggs, if desired
Parmesan for topping
Crusty bread for serving.

Pour olive oil in pan to thinly cover bottom. Add onions for 1-2 minutes, then add all other ingredients. Cover and simmer just until zucchini is done, about 20- 30 minutes.
Grandmother would whisk eggs and pour into simmering liquid and cook until eggs were set.

Broken and Glued Back Together Again... Only Stronger

     It was a joy to go back to church today after not attending for the past few weeks. Love is there. In our sermon from Exodus 3, Moses asks God what should he tell the Israelites His name is. God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM." "This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'" This is one of my favorite passages in the Old Testament. I could sit and ponder God's name for Himself and what it means for hours! Pastor Stephen went into much more detail about the Hebrew translation and the history there, which is fascinating in itself.
     We sang a new song which was beautiful. The sound of everyone's voices singing in unison makes me think of what Heaven will sound like, only multiplied times billions : )
   

Well, HELLO there! 

We've been waiting all year for this day!