Tomorrow, in the morning, I will begin a task which I absolutely despise. I will be getting out the summer clothes and putting away all the winter clothes for my five darling princesses. I despise this job for a couple of reasons. First of all, before it can all be put away, it must be gotten out. The getting out involves carrying down many boxes and plastic bins full of clothes from the attic. The getting out creates major clutter and chaos. I can't think when there's clutter and chaos. It discourages me and I don't feel like doing anything to make it go away (until I just can't stand it anymore and then go on a rampage to clean it up). Secondly, I usually have to do this job by myself, along with everything else I normally have to do. It takes such a long time (more than a week sometimes) to have the princesses try things on, decide if it fits or not, decide if it needs to be gotten rid of, and sort all the winter clothes into sizes and put them in the appropriately marked bin or box. Thirdly, even though my house looks large (and it is), the bedroom where this event will take place is small. I tend to be a little claustrophobic, so small bedroom + piles of clothes everywhere = me feeling a little frenetic.
I have been feeling a little convicted about this "bad attitude" of mine concerning this job. Two things should help to change that attitude. One, my dear mother-in-love is coming to help me. She did this once before and it went so quickly. The major part of the task was finished in a day. The second is this: I didn't buy any of these clothes. I have dear friends in the neighborhood, friends at church, and family members who give me bags of clothes for my children. Most of these clothes have been worn by one, maybe two, kids so they're in great shape. I could not afford to buy clothes like these for my girls. I'm talking everything from winter boots, coats, dress shoes, sneakers, sandals, bathing suits, socks, shirts, pants, sweaters, shorts, dresses . . . the list could go on.
God has so abundantly blessed our family in this way that I sometimes wonder how I would dare to complain that I have to do this job. Seems like I need a major attitude adjustment, especially when there are so many others around the world who only have one set of clothing. So, this spring, as I pull out the summer clothes and fold and put winter ones away, I'm going to work on my attitude. I'm going to look at this task as an opportunity for worship. I'm going to thank God for His faithfulness in providing for all of our needs. I'm going to thank Him for the dear friends and family who bless me in this way. I'm going to ask Him to pour out blessings a hundred fold on those dear people for their generosity to me. I'm going to thank Him that my dear mother-in-love was willing to come help me. I'm going to thank Him for the five beautiful, healthy girls that wear these clothes. I'm going to have a great time visiting with my mother-in-love.
Could it be that tomorrow's dreaded task will turn into a joyful one? Probably will, but only if I choose to let it. I think tomorrow might just be a great day.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
An Ordinary Day
May 12, 2010
Woke up at 6:30 a.m. because that's when Caroline woke up. Discovered there was no hot cereal for breakfast, so on to plan B. Had two eggs, enough to make pancakes. Cleaned up the kitchen and started the kitchen rugs in the washer. Taught Laura the three ways to make the "e" sound and why it's not a good idea to use people's feet to measure things. Did reading with Emma and taught her that odd+odd=even, even+even=odd, and odd+even=odd. Taught Katharine and Rebecca more about the Pythagorean formula. Made sure everyone had showers before lunchtime. Made turkey and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Laid down with Caroline for a nap at 12:10 p.m. Fell asleep and napped until about 3:00 p.m. Got up and checked e-mail and other things on the computer. Did language arts lessons with Katharine and Rebecca. Ate spaghetti and green beans at 5:30 p.m. for dinner. Laura cleared the table, Emma and Rebecca washed dishes, Katharine put them away. Dumped a bunch of pennies in the dish pan as an unexpected reward for helping. Worked upstairs in the empty bedroom, sorting through clothes until 9:00 p.m. Nursed Caroline to sleep and then went to bed myself.
On a day like this, I tend to think that I didn't get anything done. After all, no big project was begun or finished. It's just an ordinary day, like so many of the days of my life. Dishes, lessons, meals, etc., etc., etc. What is so amazing and life-changing and special about what I do? This "being a Mom."
Last Friday evening I heard a woman sing a song called "Sacred" by the group Caedmon's Call. It puts all of my "ordinary days" into perspective.
This house is a good mess it's the proof of life
No way would I trade jobs but I don't pay overtime
I'll get to the laundry I don't know when
I'm saying a prayer tonight cause tomorrow it starts again
Could it be that everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
The children are sleeping but they're running through my mind
The sun makes them happy and the music makes them unwind
My cup runneth over, I worry about the stain
Teach me to run to you like they run to me for everything
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
When I forget to drink from you I can feel the banks harden
Lord make me like a stream to feed the garden
Wake up little sleeper
The Lord God Almighty
Made your mama keeper
So rise and shine, rise and shine, rise and shine
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes.
It is in the little, mundane, everyday, ordinary things that I worship God. This taking care of my children, husband and house are my "spiritual act of worship." To God, my ordinary days are sacred.
Woke up at 6:30 a.m. because that's when Caroline woke up. Discovered there was no hot cereal for breakfast, so on to plan B. Had two eggs, enough to make pancakes. Cleaned up the kitchen and started the kitchen rugs in the washer. Taught Laura the three ways to make the "e" sound and why it's not a good idea to use people's feet to measure things. Did reading with Emma and taught her that odd+odd=even, even+even=odd, and odd+even=odd. Taught Katharine and Rebecca more about the Pythagorean formula. Made sure everyone had showers before lunchtime. Made turkey and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Laid down with Caroline for a nap at 12:10 p.m. Fell asleep and napped until about 3:00 p.m. Got up and checked e-mail and other things on the computer. Did language arts lessons with Katharine and Rebecca. Ate spaghetti and green beans at 5:30 p.m. for dinner. Laura cleared the table, Emma and Rebecca washed dishes, Katharine put them away. Dumped a bunch of pennies in the dish pan as an unexpected reward for helping. Worked upstairs in the empty bedroom, sorting through clothes until 9:00 p.m. Nursed Caroline to sleep and then went to bed myself.
On a day like this, I tend to think that I didn't get anything done. After all, no big project was begun or finished. It's just an ordinary day, like so many of the days of my life. Dishes, lessons, meals, etc., etc., etc. What is so amazing and life-changing and special about what I do? This "being a Mom."
Last Friday evening I heard a woman sing a song called "Sacred" by the group Caedmon's Call. It puts all of my "ordinary days" into perspective.
This house is a good mess it's the proof of life
No way would I trade jobs but I don't pay overtime
I'll get to the laundry I don't know when
I'm saying a prayer tonight cause tomorrow it starts again
Could it be that everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
The children are sleeping but they're running through my mind
The sun makes them happy and the music makes them unwind
My cup runneth over, I worry about the stain
Teach me to run to you like they run to me for everything
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes
When I forget to drink from you I can feel the banks harden
Lord make me like a stream to feed the garden
Wake up little sleeper
The Lord God Almighty
Made your mama keeper
So rise and shine, rise and shine, rise and shine
Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes.
It is in the little, mundane, everyday, ordinary things that I worship God. This taking care of my children, husband and house are my "spiritual act of worship." To God, my ordinary days are sacred.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Mother's Day 2010
I went to a women's event with a friend on Friday night and, as I headed out the door, I told dear hubby (who from now on shall be referred to as The Man of the Place) that he had about 6 hours to sit down with our 5 princesses and figure out the menu for Mother's Day because I was NOT going to be cooking.
I got my breakfast in bed on Saturday morning because it's just too chaotic to do it on Sunday morning. What a breakfast it was! One fried egg, two slices of bacon, a piece of toast, a pumpkin chip muffin, a banana, a bowl of strawberries, a large glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. I was RAWTHER full. In fact, I couldn't eat all of it. But, it was delicious.
Sunday lunch was French bread (made in the bread machine while we were at church) and chicken noodle soup (which had been made on Saturday and was warmed in the crockpot while at church). After lunch, I laid on the couch and dozed on and off for about three hours. I had mentioned that I wanted to garden (i.e. weed), but didn't have the energy to pull it off. Dinner consisted of egg salad sandwiches, chocolate chip scones, cantaloupe, strawberries, tea and, the best part of all, homemade strawberry ice cream.
The princesses made homemade cards for me. Aurora's was so cute. "You're the best Mom I've had in a long time." Like she's had another and/or different one?
But Cinderella wrote a poem. As you'll see in a moment, it's wonderful, but the best part is that she has inherited my ability for writing poetry. And she's only 10!
MOTHERS
Mothers are special, they're caring and giving
They work extremely hard, but don't earn a living.
A living or not, they work every day.
They guide you and show you to walk in God's ways.
If you have a bad dream, she'll welcome you to bed,
But what she'd rather do is sleep instead.
Whenever she gets sick, she does what she always does.
She takes care of her house and her family like she never was.
So to make this Mother's Day special
A homemade card will do fine.
But the real reward is to look at you,
A Mother who's caring and kind.
Sniff. Sniff. Someone pass the Kleenex.
I went to a women's event with a friend on Friday night and, as I headed out the door, I told dear hubby (who from now on shall be referred to as The Man of the Place) that he had about 6 hours to sit down with our 5 princesses and figure out the menu for Mother's Day because I was NOT going to be cooking.
I got my breakfast in bed on Saturday morning because it's just too chaotic to do it on Sunday morning. What a breakfast it was! One fried egg, two slices of bacon, a piece of toast, a pumpkin chip muffin, a banana, a bowl of strawberries, a large glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. I was RAWTHER full. In fact, I couldn't eat all of it. But, it was delicious.
Sunday lunch was French bread (made in the bread machine while we were at church) and chicken noodle soup (which had been made on Saturday and was warmed in the crockpot while at church). After lunch, I laid on the couch and dozed on and off for about three hours. I had mentioned that I wanted to garden (i.e. weed), but didn't have the energy to pull it off. Dinner consisted of egg salad sandwiches, chocolate chip scones, cantaloupe, strawberries, tea and, the best part of all, homemade strawberry ice cream.
The princesses made homemade cards for me. Aurora's was so cute. "You're the best Mom I've had in a long time." Like she's had another and/or different one?
But Cinderella wrote a poem. As you'll see in a moment, it's wonderful, but the best part is that she has inherited my ability for writing poetry. And she's only 10!
MOTHERS
Mothers are special, they're caring and giving
They work extremely hard, but don't earn a living.
A living or not, they work every day.
They guide you and show you to walk in God's ways.
If you have a bad dream, she'll welcome you to bed,
But what she'd rather do is sleep instead.
Whenever she gets sick, she does what she always does.
She takes care of her house and her family like she never was.
So to make this Mother's Day special
A homemade card will do fine.
But the real reward is to look at you,
A Mother who's caring and kind.
Sniff. Sniff. Someone pass the Kleenex.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
What Makes Dinner So Special?
I thought you might enjoy a poem I wrote yesterday about what makes dinner so special at our house. I wrote this poem to enter a Mother's Day Contest that Focus on the Family is having. Let me know what makes dinner so special at your house.
What makes dinner special
For our family of seven?
Visit me in my kitchen
And an answer I'll be givin'.
Our meals are made from scratch
Mostly from food we've grown.
They're cooked on my white gas stove
In our century-old home.
Our fare is pretty basic
To call it gourmet, I would not.
But it's made with lots of love
And served up nice and hot.
Daddy joins us for dinner
And over our meal he prays.
Then we dig in with gusto
And talk about our day.
My girls say my food's a "keeper"
They usually clean their plates
My husband loves my cooking
And rarely has any complaints.
Some meals are eaten quickly,
At others, we linger long.
In summer, we dine al fresco
Serenaded by the bird's song.
Holidays are really special.
Everything looks pretty and nice
With the linens, china and candles
And food cooked with extra spice.
When someday my table is empty
'Cause my girls have their own homes
I hope they'll remember our dinners
Where bodies and hearts were grown.
So, what is it, really
That's so special about our dinners?
Nothing too fine or fancy
It's just that we're TOGETHER.
What makes dinner special
For our family of seven?
Visit me in my kitchen
And an answer I'll be givin'.
Our meals are made from scratch
Mostly from food we've grown.
They're cooked on my white gas stove
In our century-old home.
Our fare is pretty basic
To call it gourmet, I would not.
But it's made with lots of love
And served up nice and hot.
Daddy joins us for dinner
And over our meal he prays.
Then we dig in with gusto
And talk about our day.
My girls say my food's a "keeper"
They usually clean their plates
My husband loves my cooking
And rarely has any complaints.
Some meals are eaten quickly,
At others, we linger long.
In summer, we dine al fresco
Serenaded by the bird's song.
Holidays are really special.
Everything looks pretty and nice
With the linens, china and candles
And food cooked with extra spice.
When someday my table is empty
'Cause my girls have their own homes
I hope they'll remember our dinners
Where bodies and hearts were grown.
So, what is it, really
That's so special about our dinners?
Nothing too fine or fancy
It's just that we're TOGETHER.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Childhood Games
What games did you play as a child that required use of imagination? What did you play on a rainy Saturday afternoon? What household items did you use as props to aid you in your drama?
I am the oldest of 12 children. There are four girls and eight boys in my family. We grew up in a house without a television. We NEVER had a television, ever. That meant there was lots of "down time" for us to play and invent games using our imaginations.
I remember playing this game called "Sue and Joe." Myself and my brother, Timothy, who is 17 months younger than I, would pretend to be these two people called Sue and Joe. My sister, Katie, who is four years younger than I, would always be the dog. She was always a collie and her name was always Shep. I don't quite remember what Sue and Joe did, but we probably just played house or some game that mimicked what we saw adults doing.
There are pictures of Timothy and I, dressed in dress-up clothes, sitting on the arm of the couch. Piled on the couch behind us are all of our toys, covered in blankets. We were "going on vacation." The ever present baby doll was on my lap.
When there were more siblings and it was time to clean up our toys, we would play "Noah's Ark." We'd spread out a big blanket on the floor, pile all the toys in the middle of the blanket (even the ones that were already in their proper places), and then put them all away. It would take hours.
I'm sure there were more, but I'd have to ask my siblings what else we did. What prompted this memory was Saturday afternoon. I was upstairs painting on Saturday and heard my girls playing downstairs. As I listened, I realized they were pretending to be "poor Russian Jewish immigrants on a boat on their way to America." I peeked over the bannister to get a glimpse of their costumes which had come from the overflowing dress-up box. They each had on a long skirt and a scarf tied around their head. The living room floor had been transferred into a ship room with beds (made from the couch cushions) and a small table (the piano bench) with a single candle, cups of water and dry crackers for their food. I heard Belle (who I think was the mom) tell the children that if they didn't go to sleep, she was going to call the Prime Minister.
I was going to listen to a CD or the radio while I was painting, but after listening to their conversation, I decided that their little drama was much more entertaining. Three of their friends came over for an hour and joined right in the game. When it was time for their friends to go home, I called the dad and told him the "poor Russian Jewish immigrants" had disembarked and were on the way to their new home. His response was classic. "Then I'll go and lift my lamp beside the golden door." :-)
I absolutely LOVE to listen to my girls when they use their imaginations to play. We have a television, but I'm so glad that they're capable and willing to leave it turned off and play creatively with each other and their friends. During the summer they play pioneers, Indians, and we've even had a hobo jungle. I think if I and other parents all over the country could secretly capture children "playing and pretending," it would make a most entertaining and quality TV show. It'd certainly be better than most of wha's out there.
So, what "pretend" games did you play as a child?
I am the oldest of 12 children. There are four girls and eight boys in my family. We grew up in a house without a television. We NEVER had a television, ever. That meant there was lots of "down time" for us to play and invent games using our imaginations.
I remember playing this game called "Sue and Joe." Myself and my brother, Timothy, who is 17 months younger than I, would pretend to be these two people called Sue and Joe. My sister, Katie, who is four years younger than I, would always be the dog. She was always a collie and her name was always Shep. I don't quite remember what Sue and Joe did, but we probably just played house or some game that mimicked what we saw adults doing.
There are pictures of Timothy and I, dressed in dress-up clothes, sitting on the arm of the couch. Piled on the couch behind us are all of our toys, covered in blankets. We were "going on vacation." The ever present baby doll was on my lap.
When there were more siblings and it was time to clean up our toys, we would play "Noah's Ark." We'd spread out a big blanket on the floor, pile all the toys in the middle of the blanket (even the ones that were already in their proper places), and then put them all away. It would take hours.
I'm sure there were more, but I'd have to ask my siblings what else we did. What prompted this memory was Saturday afternoon. I was upstairs painting on Saturday and heard my girls playing downstairs. As I listened, I realized they were pretending to be "poor Russian Jewish immigrants on a boat on their way to America." I peeked over the bannister to get a glimpse of their costumes which had come from the overflowing dress-up box. They each had on a long skirt and a scarf tied around their head. The living room floor had been transferred into a ship room with beds (made from the couch cushions) and a small table (the piano bench) with a single candle, cups of water and dry crackers for their food. I heard Belle (who I think was the mom) tell the children that if they didn't go to sleep, she was going to call the Prime Minister.
I was going to listen to a CD or the radio while I was painting, but after listening to their conversation, I decided that their little drama was much more entertaining. Three of their friends came over for an hour and joined right in the game. When it was time for their friends to go home, I called the dad and told him the "poor Russian Jewish immigrants" had disembarked and were on the way to their new home. His response was classic. "Then I'll go and lift my lamp beside the golden door." :-)
I absolutely LOVE to listen to my girls when they use their imaginations to play. We have a television, but I'm so glad that they're capable and willing to leave it turned off and play creatively with each other and their friends. During the summer they play pioneers, Indians, and we've even had a hobo jungle. I think if I and other parents all over the country could secretly capture children "playing and pretending," it would make a most entertaining and quality TV show. It'd certainly be better than most of wha's out there.
So, what "pretend" games did you play as a child?
Monday, March 1, 2010
Rainbows and Promises
Lest you be fooled by the words "Rainbow Manor" in my blog title and think that I live in a house as large, gracious and expansive as the name "Manor" would indicate, I am here to set the record straight. I do not. But, I do live in a house that was built in 1905 and has all the charm and character that a house from that period would be expected to have.
The main floor of the house consists of a kitchen (with a little room off to the south that I guess you could call a butler's pantry), laundry room (that was formerly the bathroom), very large bathroom with two huge windows (used to be a downstairs bedroom), dining room/living room that is one large room, and a hallway leading to upstairs.
Upstairs are three small bedrooms with three small closets.
The house has a porch that extends all the way across the front (which faces east) but has been enclosed. We currently use it for storage. We have grand plans to turn 2/3 of it into a library and open the other 1/3 so we can use the actual front door to the house and I can have room for a porch swing.
There was a second-story porch on the house which was also enclosed. It measures about 3-1/2 feet wide and 10 feet long. This will be my husband's office and room to store his hunting and fishing equipment. He wanted one space in the house that was his and his alone. It's not very big, but he's not claustrophobic.
Over the main part of the house is a HUGE walk-up attic. As attics usually are, it's filled with Christmas decorations, boxes of out-of-season clothes for the girls, coolers, suitcases, books that have no shelf to decorate, and many things that need to be donated or sold. This space will eventually be a master bedroom suite for hubby and me with a bathroom all our very own.
Over the kitchen, there is a smaller attic. To enter this attic, you must go into the south bedroom, into the closet and open the left wall of the closet which is actually a door into the attic. This space is currently filled with blankets, camping equipment, a mattress, a chair and lamp, and out-of-season clothes that belong to hubby and me. This space will eventually be a playroom for the girls.
Under the house is a cellar. It cannot be called a basement. It's probably very much like the cellar at your grandparent's house. It houses all the canning equipment, canned food, freezer, hubby's tools, furnace, oil tank and various other things. There are no future plans for this space. It can only be a cellar.
The first floor of the house has 9-10 foot ceilings, 6-inch oak woodwork around all the windows, solid oak doors and 10-inch oak baseboard. The floors are beautiful hardwood and the staircase is all wood. The ceilings are lower in the bedrooms but the hardwood floors and woodwork are the same except that the woodwork is painted inside the bedrooms.
One of the reasons I named my house Rainbow Manor is because rainbows have seven colors and there are seven people in our family. Each is unique and beautiful in its own way. Each of us has a different favorite color. Belle and I like red, Aurora's is yellow, Snow White's is green, Ella's is blue and hubby's is purple. There's only one color left -orange. The four older princesses are convinced that littlest princess can't have any other favorite color than orange. We'll see!
There are three leaded glass windows in my house. One in the dining room, one in the living room and one in the front hallway. The glass is the living room window is beveled. As the seasons change from winter to spring and fall to winter, the sun shines through the east-facing living room window and paints rainbows all over my walls.
The five princesses love the rainbows as do I. They run around putting their hands on the walls and feet on the floors so that the rainbows will decorate their skin. The rainbows make us smile. But, best of all, they remind me of my Heavenly Father. When I see a rainbow, either in my house or in the summer sky, it reminds me that God is thinking about me and being faithful in keeping all His promises. Thus, the name for my house and my blog.
The main floor of the house consists of a kitchen (with a little room off to the south that I guess you could call a butler's pantry), laundry room (that was formerly the bathroom), very large bathroom with two huge windows (used to be a downstairs bedroom), dining room/living room that is one large room, and a hallway leading to upstairs.
Upstairs are three small bedrooms with three small closets.
The house has a porch that extends all the way across the front (which faces east) but has been enclosed. We currently use it for storage. We have grand plans to turn 2/3 of it into a library and open the other 1/3 so we can use the actual front door to the house and I can have room for a porch swing.
There was a second-story porch on the house which was also enclosed. It measures about 3-1/2 feet wide and 10 feet long. This will be my husband's office and room to store his hunting and fishing equipment. He wanted one space in the house that was his and his alone. It's not very big, but he's not claustrophobic.
Over the main part of the house is a HUGE walk-up attic. As attics usually are, it's filled with Christmas decorations, boxes of out-of-season clothes for the girls, coolers, suitcases, books that have no shelf to decorate, and many things that need to be donated or sold. This space will eventually be a master bedroom suite for hubby and me with a bathroom all our very own.
Over the kitchen, there is a smaller attic. To enter this attic, you must go into the south bedroom, into the closet and open the left wall of the closet which is actually a door into the attic. This space is currently filled with blankets, camping equipment, a mattress, a chair and lamp, and out-of-season clothes that belong to hubby and me. This space will eventually be a playroom for the girls.
Under the house is a cellar. It cannot be called a basement. It's probably very much like the cellar at your grandparent's house. It houses all the canning equipment, canned food, freezer, hubby's tools, furnace, oil tank and various other things. There are no future plans for this space. It can only be a cellar.
The first floor of the house has 9-10 foot ceilings, 6-inch oak woodwork around all the windows, solid oak doors and 10-inch oak baseboard. The floors are beautiful hardwood and the staircase is all wood. The ceilings are lower in the bedrooms but the hardwood floors and woodwork are the same except that the woodwork is painted inside the bedrooms.
One of the reasons I named my house Rainbow Manor is because rainbows have seven colors and there are seven people in our family. Each is unique and beautiful in its own way. Each of us has a different favorite color. Belle and I like red, Aurora's is yellow, Snow White's is green, Ella's is blue and hubby's is purple. There's only one color left -orange. The four older princesses are convinced that littlest princess can't have any other favorite color than orange. We'll see!
There are three leaded glass windows in my house. One in the dining room, one in the living room and one in the front hallway. The glass is the living room window is beveled. As the seasons change from winter to spring and fall to winter, the sun shines through the east-facing living room window and paints rainbows all over my walls.
The five princesses love the rainbows as do I. They run around putting their hands on the walls and feet on the floors so that the rainbows will decorate their skin. The rainbows make us smile. But, best of all, they remind me of my Heavenly Father. When I see a rainbow, either in my house or in the summer sky, it reminds me that God is thinking about me and being faithful in keeping all His promises. Thus, the name for my house and my blog.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
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.
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.
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