My Love Affair with Tea

Anyone who knows me even for just a short time will discover that I have a passion for tea and all things related to that venerable liquid. I love tea! I enjoy the smell and taste of tea. I enjoy the delicate tea sandwiches, scones and sweets that are served at tea parties. I enjoy the relationships that are strengthened while sipping a cup of tea.

How did I come to acquire this love for tea? I think it must have come from my father's side of the family. Story is that my paternal grandmother's ancestors were from England and the earliest one, John Shell, came to America and settled in Virginia. The British are, of course, famous for tea and the ceremony of tea. I prefer to think that tea runs in my veins.

In my research on the subject of tea, I uncovered this little known fact. The Dutch were actually the first European country to bring tea west from China and points east. The British, however, made it into quite the occasion. Scones are the most common accompaniment for tea. Most people think scones are another creation of the British. Actually, the Dutch can take credit for this delicious treat. The word "scone" means "beautiful bread" in Dutch.

I have fond memories while growing up of having tea on Sunday evenings. These parties were not grand, but simple fare - apples, cheese and crackers, some sort of sweet. The favorite tea of my father was Bigelow's Constant Comment. One whiff of that tea transports me back to my childhood.

When Handsome Prince and I began to have children, I wanted to continue the tradition of Sunday evening tea with our family. It's been easy! I have five girls and a husband who enjoy tea as much as I do. Most Sunday evenings find us gathered around the table, eating "Poetical Egg Salad Sandwiches," scones, and some kind of sweet or apples and cheese and crackers. Flavors of tea drunk from china tea cups in my collection include Earl Grey, English Breakfast, Ceylon, Assam, and Irish Breakfast. We all drink our tea strong with milk and sugar, the proper British way.

My girls began at a very early age drinking tea from a china cup and saucer. They know a lot about tea and all have their favorite. After our first cat died, they wanted a gray male cat to adopt just so they could name it "Earl Grey." We do have a gray cat with the name Earl Grey, only she's female.

I wouldn't be surprised if my girls carry on the tradition of Sunday evening tea when they begin to have their own children. I think it runs in their veins like it does in mine. Only they have a double dose. Mom's ancestry is British and Dad is 100% Dutch.

My children, all 5 of them, had the chicken pox last week. Lest you wonder how all 5 came down with them at the same time, I must confess . . . it was done on purpose. Yes, you read correctly. I purposely infected my children with chicken pox. As per my doctor's advice ("I'd rather your kids get the chicken pox then get the vaccine"), I found someone who had the chicken pox and called and asked, "Will you share your germs with us?" She was only too happy to oblige, so a few weeks ago, we went to her house, her son tasted lollipops for each of the girls and then the girls ate the lollipops. On Super Bowl Sunday, I noticed tiny red spots. Sure enough, there they were. Belle had the worst case, especially on her face. Ella, Snow White, and Aurora had plenty. Princess Pudge got off the easiest, but still had enough. The girls spent last week laying around, watching movies, eating Jello, instant pudding, Popsicles, ice cream and drinking ginger ale. By Friday, they were feeling better and by Saturday they were squabbling again so I knew that they were better. Right now they're in the scabby stage. In about two more weeks, you'll never know they had them.

So how did I fare last week? The entire week was spent giving all my attention to the patients, helping to ease the itching and uncomfortableness. The house was completely neglected and that was OK. However, now I am playing serious catch-up. I will say this: I'll take 5 children with chicken pox over 5 children with whooping cough (which we had last summer) any day. I can now rest easy knowing that they're immune for life from the chicken pox.

When my kids don't squabble, I know they're not feeling well. This morning I asked my Handsome Prince if there was some disease we could infect them with so that they'd be sick again and not fight. Said in jest, of course, but the quiet last week was wonderful.

We started school again today. I decided that since they were well enough to do school and well enough to fight, they were strong enough to work. If they're quarreling, they must be bored with nothing better to do, so I put all that pent up energy to good use. Belle deep-cleaned the hallway bookshelf that houses games and puzzles. Snow White and Aurora cleaned the baker's rack in the kitchen for me. I need to pull out my spring cleaning list and see what other jobs I can get them to do for me. It'll keep them occupied and maybe the sibling discord will disappear for a while without them having to be sick again. One can only hope.

The Fashion Shoot

I rarely buy clothes for my five girls. I have been blessed so abundantly with friends who will give me the things their daughters have outgrown. I don't consider it charity or a hand-out. It is God's way of providing for our family. Most of the clothes are nicer that what I could ever afford to buy anyway. And the excitement and energy that a bag or box of clothes can generate in our house is enough to power it for a day.

On Wednesday evening, a lady from my church gave me several bins of clothes for my girls. She told me that the clothes had belonged to her older daughter, who models. When I heard that I knew there had to be some great stuff in the bins.

Oh, was there ever!

On Thursday morning I took a break from school and we went through the clothes. There were several pairs of high-heeled boots, purses, three pairs of large sunglasses, shirts, jackets, pants, high-heeled shoes, and . . . A WEDDING DRESS, GOLD FORMAL EVENING GOWN and AQUA DRESS loaded with sequins. Now, mind you, I wouldn't let them be caught alive out in public in these dresses when they are teenagers and young adults, but I see no harm in them playing together and being princesses for an afternoon.

Take four girls, three gorgeous dresses, high-heeled shoes, mix them all together and what do you get? A fashion shoot! The girls played together all afternoon with those clothes, taking turns wearing them, posing for pictures, doing their hair and makeup. My oldest, Belle, was the photographer. Ella did hair, makeup and posed everyone. I now have 53 pictures on the computer of their afternoon of fun. And, I've heard talk that there'll be another fashion shoot tomorrow.

I had such a blast watching them yesterday. The conversations, looks, poses, and compliments they kept giving each other had me chuckling and smiling all afternoon. I'm convinced little girls are born hard-wired with a love of frilly, sparkly, glittery things. They love to dress-up and be told they look pretty and beautiful. It makes them feel special and confident. I remember having them look in the mirror after their baths when they were 2, 3, and 4 and asking them, "Are you beautiful?"

"YES!" they would answer.

"And why are you beautiful?"

"Because God made me!"

I long for them to carry that belief and conviction with them throughout their lives. I want them to like how they look and think of themselves as beautiful. But, more than that, I want them to know how to be beautiful on the inside. Right now, it is my responsibility to build into their lives character qualities that God tells us makes a person lovely and beautiful: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. If they can dress themselves on the inside with those "clothes," it won't matter how they look on the outside. Those qualities will radiate from inside and they will be beautiful to others and in the eyes of God.

How I pray for the wisdom to raise beautiful, godly young women who can confidently go out into the world and make an impact for God's kingdom. To watch them as they play with these clothes, maybe it will be in the fashion industry.

My Wedding Vows

When Vic and I got married, I wanted us to write our own wedding vows to each other so I composed a poem. I thought you might enjoy reading it.

Victor Dale, I love you,
So much more than you can know.
Our wedding day is finally here;
God planned this long ago.

God, in His own great wisdom,
Looked down from heaven above;
He knew that I would need you
To teach me how to love.

And so one August evening,
He had you make a call
To my apartment here at Keswick,
And that began it all.

Through hours of conversation,
I came to know your mind;
I found your heart was honest,
Loving, generous and kind.

God's Spirit moved within us;
To each other, we grew dear.
We sensed His gentle guidance;
In His time, He made it clear.

Love shared as wife and husband
Is His plan for you and me.
His plan brings hope and a future,
Will protect us, bring prosperity.

So here I stand before you,
Friends and family gathered 'round;
I make this solemn promise;
Then, to you, for life I'm bound.

I take you as my husband;
All others I leave behind.
A truer friend and lover
Than you, I could never find.

I'll have you and I'll hold you,
In sickness and in health,
Through good times and through bad times,
Through povety or wealth.

Ask me not to ever leave you -
I'll not turn and walk away.
I'll live with you all my life
And by your side, I'll stay.

Your family will be my family
And mine will be yours too.
God gave us to each other;
To Him, we will be true.

I know we'll be together
Even when this life is through.
May God deal with me severely
If naught but death parts me from you.

When others view our marriage,
I pray that they will see
That we love one another
And, in Christ, have unity.

For then, we will accomplish
God's plan for you and me;
Letting others know God loves them
And has died to set them free.

May we know His greatest happiness
As we lead souls to Christ.
May God use us for His glory
As we walk as one through life.

As few years after we were married, I sent the poem and one of our wedding invitations to an artist and she created a piece of art for me. I gave it to Vic on one of our early anniversaries. Which I could remember which one.

And now you know "the rest of the story"

So how did I end up in Minnesota?

Remember America's Keswick, the Christian conference center I worked at in New Jersey? One of the summers I worked there, I met a very nice family - husband, wife and four sons. They had come to Keswick to work on staff. The husband had grown up in a family of 14 children on a dairy farm in southwest Minnesota. We connected right away because I'm the oldest of 12 (that's a post for another day). His four sons were the same age of some of my younger brothers. I became great friends with his family. I would babysit his boys sometimes. My homemade pizza was their favorite. He would keep my car running and tell wonderful stories about Minnesota. I even met his parents when they came to visit.

Once while we were talking, he told me about a nephew of his who was single and in the Navy. He also had been telling this nephew about me. He kept encouraging me to write or call him. I felt really uncomfortable doing that and figured that if God meant it to be, this sailor would make the first move and get in touch with me.

Well . . . he did. One night in August 1995, my telephone rang and it was "the nephew." We talked for a hour and a half that first night. We spoke on the telephone a few times in September, October and November. After Thanksgiving, we began to talk every night for an hour or more.

We had not exchanged pictures at this point, so I will never forget this gentleman telling me that he loved me. How could he? He didn't know what I looked like!

We sent each other pictures at Christmas that year. I remember coming home from work and seeing a box on my porch that I knew contained his picture and other gifts. My stomach went all funny as I opened it. I wondered, "What if I don't like what he looks like? What then?"

What I noticed first about him were his hands. They reminded me of my dad's hands. All in all, I thought he was pretty handsome. I asked him what he thought of my picture and he said his first thought was, "So this is what my wife is going to look like."

In January 1996 I flew to Minnesota to meet this handsome man and his family. His mother, after having known me for only an hour, said, "You are the woman I have prayed for for my son."

Vic flew to Virginia in February to meet my family and we saw each other a few other times that year. By this time, I knew Vic wanted me to marry him (he already had a ring), but I wasn't sure. I decided to move to Minnesota and did so in August 1996.

Vic proposed to me in September at a picnic under a big oak tree in the pasture of the farm he grew up on. We were married at Keswick on June 7, 1997.

Remember the uncle? At a farewell party thrown for me before I moved, he told me that when his parents had met me, they began praying that Vic and I would meet and get married. I had not know that and it was such a confirmation that God's hand was in our relationship.

As I once wrote in a poem about Grandpa and Grandma, it was through their prayers to heaven that I became Vic's wife. I often tell him that he is the perfect husband. He disagrees. Then I say, "Yes, you are. Only God could have brought us together and that makes you the perfect husband for me."

OK. So, I just did it. I started a blog. Not that I don't have enough to do in all my spare time. But, like Julie Powell says in the movie, Julie & Julia (which I highly recommend, especially if you're a foodie), "I could write a blog. I have thoughts."

Now, I don't know how faithful I'll be at writing on my blog, but lots of times I go to post things on Facebook and I run out of room. Thus, the need for a blog. I also have friends asking for recipes, titles of books for their children, etc. If I post to my blog, then it's out there for everyone to find if they want it and need it. Saves me a lot of time.

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Mary Lou Menning and I live in a small town in Minnesota, about an hour west of Minneapolis/St. Paul. I'm not originally from around here. I was born in Philadelphia, PA. Only lived there 6 months until my parents moved to Wilmington, Delaware, where I lived until we moved during Christmas break of my 6th grade year. We moved to Frederick, Maryland. That's where I graduated from high school, attended three years of community college, worked for my dad as his secretary, and attended many Baltimore Orioles games at Memorial Stadium watching the great one, Cal Ripken.

After community college, I attended Philadelphia College of Bible in Langhorne, PA, where I graduated with a B.S. in Elementary Education. I moved to New Jersey to work at America's Keswick in Whiting, NJ. After working there for a few years, I went to teach 2nd grade at Lighthouse Christian Academy in Manahawkin, NJ.

So, how did I end up in Minnesota? Ah, there's the subject for the next post.