Happy Thanks-iversary

Fourteen years ago tonight I crawled into a hotel bed with my soon-to-be mother-in-law. I must have eventually made some sort of bargain with sleep to rush me into the next day. It would be the day after Thanksgiving- the day I would marry Wesley Johnson in the Seattle LDS temple.

November 26, 1999

Oh, how I treasure my friendship with Wes!

Today, I am especially grateful for our marriage covenants, personal revelation, and the gospel that binds us together.

I am grateful for my husband's kindness to me. He has ALWAYS treated me respectfully. He encourages me and supports me in my aspirations.

Neither of us is perfect and so tonight I am grateful that he has always been the first to apologize- whether or not he is wrong. I am grateful for forgiveness.

I am grateful for the opportunities to grow and mature together as we've recognized the Lord's tender mercies during difficult times.

I am grateful for my husband's faith and his desire to always do Heavenly Father's will, even when that requires some bending on his part.

His desire to understand ME rather than jam me into some preconceived ideal was perhaps one of the things that first drew me to Wes. I am grateful for his devotion to meeting my needs, often at the expense of meeting his own.

I am grateful for the five incredibly special children who have truly blessed our marriage and that everyday they see how much their parents are still completely in love with each other. 

Happy Anniversary, my dear friend, Wes. This Thanksgiving, as always, I am thankful for YOU.

Hodgepodge of Highlights

On Monday we took our whole family to our version of Disneyland.

Really. Check out Halle's face.

The fear...the anticipation...the thrill of what might come next...

Unfortunately, the mud on my mirrors the next day reminded me why people who live on dirt roads don't ever pay for car washes.

Wednesday's weather called for soup, so Lyla and I bundled up and went out to the garden to pick carrots, turnips, and parsley.

Our warm fireplace laughed a little as we shivered our way back inside.

Quite a bit of our summer garden is still hiding out in our freezer, so I added some shredded zucchini to the pot simmering on the stove later that day. Tortellini soup. Yum.

Oh. And this is Bentley. He is not our dog.

I was headed home from dropping off Beau at middle school on Friday morning when I came up behind two clearly un-street-smart dogs. For half a mile they trotted aimlessly in front of me, cars whirring passed them in the other direction.

Lyla was at home with a high fever and the other kids were all getting ready for school. Wes was about to leave for work. Should I?

The first dog (who I later came to know as Scout) said "rub my belly and I'll follow you anywhere" as soon as I stepped out of the car. Scout jumped up in my Suburban and went right to sleep in the back seat. I called the number on his tag and left a message for his owner. Then I turned to the other dog, Bentley- the one in the photo. He had no tag but clearly belonged with the dog already fast asleep in my warm, dry car. 

Bentley wasn't so sure about me- though he really wanted to be. He would come close to me, yearning to curl up next to his companion, then back away with a bark of mistrust.

I knew enough to beware of a dog who was scared. 

So now what? This second dog had no tag. If I left him here, only Scout would make it home. No one would ever know where Bentley belonged. I knew I needed to keep the two dogs together.

I called the kids at home and told them they would be late for school, then dug around my car for some food. Two baggies of Cheerios later, I was left with well-slobbered hands and a 100 pound dog that still wouldn't budge.

Hmmmmmmm...what to do...

Then slowly he put two front paws up into the driver's side. Another minute passed. And finally, up he went.

Fantastic. An hour after pulling over, the second dog was finally in my car. 

But Bentley refused to move out of the driver's seat. I reached into my mental grab bag of doggie tricks, but after an hour it was pretty much empty.

Some time passed and I eventually imagined an agreement between the two of us: he wasn't going to bite me (fingers crossed). With a deep breath, I slid into the narrow gap between my steering wheel and Bentley's hefty self, thinking SURELY he will move once I'm in the seat with him.

But he didn't. So with 100 pounds of dog taking up most of my seat, I leaned my head forward into the dash board and put the car in gear. I drove the curvy mile to my house pressed up against the wheel, barely able to steer. 

Oh, and it gets better. While I leaned forward over the steering wheel, my sizable new companion sat down...on my back. I tried to laugh, but there was just no room.

This all ends well. The owner, having been out looking for the dogs until 11 PM the night before, pulled up to my house an hour later. She was thankful to have her dogs back, safe and sound, and I was thankful for the entertaining morning- a little break from the everyday routine.

That night, I lay on the couch with a feverish Lyla draped over me. She had come home from her swim lesson on Thursday with a 103-degree fever. Now and again she would wake up and melt my heart with an, "I love you, Mom." Sweet Lyla.

The time to make dinner came and went as I struggled to keep my own eyes open under her warm snuggly heap of helplessness.

"I'll make dinner," Wes announced. I smiled. My eyes closed. Wes making dinner almost always involves a phone call and a quick trip downtown.

Chinese take-out.

Before he left, I heard him make his way over to our TV and the tangled mess of cords and electronics hiding behind it (a project for a coming day). When the music started, my eyes opened to see him staring back at me. His eyes were twinkling and accompanied by a smile that said, "I know you." 

While You Were Sleeping.

It just might be the 432nd time I've seen it and he knows I still love it. I also love White Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life, and Return to Me, and insist on my family watching all of them year-after-year over the holidays.

My kids have their own list of must-watch holiday movies- Home Alone, Elf,  and The Polar Express.

Hmmmm...not even Thanksgiving and already I'm going off on holiday movies.

ANYWAY, it's now Sunday night and Lyla is feeling well enough to jump on her bed, disregard my insistence that she put her head on her pillow and, in general, treat bedtime more like a trip to Disneyland...er...the car wash.

On to a brand new week...

Halloween

Halloween prep this year began with donuts. Not a bad way to kick it all off according to my kids, but the gal behind the donut counter looked a little panic-stricken as our family of seven pointed in fourteen different directions at once.

After a healthy dose of fat and sugar, we made a couple stops to put the finishing touches on everyone's costumes. Trying to navigate The Party Store with five children all begging for me to "come see this" made me want to run back to the donut shop and again thank the gal behind the counter for putting up with all of us.

By the time all was said and done, we ended up with a snazzy Whovian,

a mermaid,

a little witch,

some sort of clown,

and another witch with a couple friends headed to the church Halloween party.

Filled up all nine seats in my RV Suburban that night.

Of course, by the time we made it to actual trick-or-treating the next week, all of the costumes had morphed into whatever variations and one had dropped off altogether (more on that here).

Oh, and we barely squeezed in pumpkin carving before walking out the door that night. What's not to love about Sophia's face as she scoops out all the pumpkin guts?

In the end, though, everyone knows it's all about the candy.

A Change in Seasons

During the summer, leafy maples and alders fill in the spaces of our towering evergreen forest. From my window the lushness is impenetrable. Beautiful.

But now--somehow--it is November and the mountains have reached through the last of the falling leaves to find our house.

The change is not necessarily for the better or worse, but the view of those majestic peaks is welcome.

There are times when I find old photos of Beau and moments gone by reach through the lushness of thirteen years to embrace me.

And now--somehow--he is a teenager.

Earlier this week I waited for him as a sea of colossal eighth graders spilled out the front of the school. Beau's 5'3" frame emerged and climbed into the front seat. His friend, Daniel found the back seat.

"So Daniel," Beau began, "where are you going trick-or-treating this year?"

"Oh...um...I'm not going this year."

"What? Why not?" 

"I'm kind of getting a little too old for that."

I watched it happen in my peripheral vision. This was the same boy who we had to finally sit down in the fifth grade for a very frank conversation about Santa Claus.

No clue, I tell you.

And now clearly he was completely oblivious to the thought that someday he just might be too old to trick-or-treat.

The transition over the next two days was interesting.

He asked another friend, Tyler, "are you going trick-or-treating this year?" 

"Nah."

He called Jaxon. "What are you doing for Halloween this year?"

By now his tone had changed from the thrill of dressing-up and petitioning kind strangers for candy to a more socially aware exploration of the alternatives.

He ended up spending Hallowen "hanging out" at Jaxon's house with Daniel and Tanner--all good boys.

So this was the year. At thirteen, Beau shrugged off trick-or-treating like it was last year's too-small-coat. 

Another change in seasons for my first-born.

Memorial Day at the American Legion

Memorial Day brought a welcome break from the norm of chasing kids out the door on time with lunches, permission slips, and...on a good day...matching socks. 

I stayed in bed long after waking up, wasting a little time on Facebook, even more on Pinterest, and then delving into the book stash beside my bed. After more time than I care to admit, I headed downstairs, crunched my way across the kitchen floor, found an entire box of cereal dumped out on the table, and put the questionably tepid milk back in the refrigerator. Such is the trade-off for temporarily ignoring reality.

At noon we headed off to what has become a more meaningful Memorial Day tradition for our family- the flag ceremony and luncheon at our local American Legion.

The truth is that we were a little late this year, so we missed the flag ceremony entirely. But I'm certain it was just as moving as the year before. I've come to expect the tiny lump that never fails to form in my throat as the names of the fallen are called out to a modest crowd.

After the ceremony, everyone formed a line for the food. Veterans and volunteers came through, shaking willing hands and telling us "thank you so much for coming today." 

I eavesdropped on the conversations around me. There's just something about hearing old men in uniform swapping stories.

It was while waiting in line that Wes leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I have an old war movie for you and me tonight." He knows this scores more imaginary points with me than washing dishes and putting the kids to bed combined. Well, maybe that's stretching it. But to me a good old war movie- and I mean old as in Thirty Seconds Over Toyko (1944), PT-109 (1963), and Midway (1976)- tops any chick-flick. Especially on Memorial Day.

The food is just what you would expect. Hot dogs, baked beans, and a variety of salads. My own green salad teetered on the edge of the crowded buffet.

We finished our food and made our way toward the door. 

I was so pleased to see my older children approach some of the veterans with a handshake and thank them for their service, because for better or for worse, we just don't have a whole lot of personal connections with the sacrifices made by so many military families.

Somehow Halle's emotion chip got shoved in sideways that morning. 

Before cramming back into the car, we stopped for one more...ahem...respectful photo in front of the memorial.

Relax. Don't Worry. Have a Christmas Cookie.

The Christmas-cookie baking marathon that so many of us home bakers annually embark upon has its charms but, for me at least, those charms always seem to be counterbalanced by the problem of narrowing down all the potential cookie choices. How do we please everyone when each family member has his or her own list of favorites? How do we incorporate a few new recipes year after year without retiring our cherished regulars? And, how do we prioritize our time in the kitchen as the big day approaches and the tinsel starts to fly?

In a poignant/pathetic attempt to gain clarity, I have to sit myself down each December and ask vital questions like the following:

• Will you consider yourself a yuletide failure if you don't, yet again, make your mom's ancient but enduring thumbprint recipe? 
• Which kind of cookie production gives you the most bang for your physical and emotional buck anyway? Fast and furious (think drop cookies, bar cookies, cookies with few ingredients, etc.)? Or slow and meticulous (think rolled, cut, and decorated sugar cookies)?
• Will your kids pout and whine if you neglect to make tons of chocolate crinkles? 
• Will your spouse's co-workers gaze at him despondently if you fail to produce a hefty platter of rugelach, etc., for his office party? 
• Will you end up paralyzed with fatigue if you battle through and manage to make a dozen (or fifteen, or twenty--what's the difference?) unique cookie varieties all by yourself in one day?

We're going to have fun if it kills us . . . 

Bottom line? Don't sacrifice your sanity on an altar of old cookie tins. Sacrifice anything else, but not that. Just do what brings you some joy. But don't go off the rails. Five or six cookie varieties? Let that be fine with you. One favorite cookie choice per immediate family member? Perfect. Years ago, my husband became interested in home brewing and home brewers had a mantra, which he would occasionally spout. They'd say, "Relax. Don't worry. Have a home brew." I suggest we edit that to read, "Relax. Don't worry. Have a Christmas cookie."

Here's a little round up of some favorite cookies from past posts. I want to try a few new recipes this season, but I'm going to keep it all under control. If it kills me.

Merry Mocha Streusel Bars
Hard to resist. Not too sweet, and just a little cheese-cakey. Maybe the best bar cookie around.

Chocolate Walnut Rugelach and Raspberry Rugelach
What's not to like about cream cheese pastry filled with yummy stuff like chocolate, cinnamon, nuts, and/or raspberry jam? Nothing!

Cranberry Snowdrift Bars
These babies are just darn incredible. I love them. A cookie-like base, sweet and tart cranberry filling, topped with a tender/crisp baked meringue. Pretty to look at, and really good.

Cinnamon Cranberry Shortbread
The variations you can eek out of a simple shortbread recipe are endless. Here's a great example!

Scotch Oat Sandwich Crunchies with Raspberry-Key Lime Filling
So good. And crunchy. Really, really crunchy.





Kahlua and Cream Shortbread Sandwich Cookies
If you love Kahlua and you love cookies, hop on board this train. You won't regret it.

Chocolate-Filled Coconut Macaroon Sandwich Cookies
Oh man, were these good. American-style macaroons at their very best. Tender, chewy. Yum's the word.

Orange Almond Butter Buttons
The kind of cookie that longs to accompany a nice, hot cup of tea. Crispy and delicately flavored.

Robust Molasses Cookies
A classic molasses cookie that will not disappoint purists. Chewy and nice. Every cookie platter needs these!

Triple Chocolate Chip Cookies
This is chocolate taken to the nth degree. It's where chocolate ends because it can't get any more chocolatey than this.

Valentine Vanilla Cupcakes with Raspberry Whipped Cream . . . Will You Be Mine?

It's not just about hearts and flowers, you know. It's also about love and cupcakes. What would Valentine's day be without them? I shudder to think.

I associate Valentine's Day with cupcakes more than any other holiday. Must be a carryover from all of those Feb. 14th parties in elementary school. Cupcakes were plentiful at those events, along with an endless supply of conversation hearts. Deep vats of Hawaiian Punch stood at the ready to slake our pre-adolescent thirst. I recall how the perkiest Moms, who faithfully materialized to run the show, would ladle the weak red libation into little cups and place them carefully into our hands. The classrooms were always a flurry of red and pink, with cut-out hearts and cupids spinning on strings that had been taped to the ceiling.

And do you remember being required to give a valentine card to every single kid in your class, without any regard to your feelings about those kids--you know, the ones with a dark reputation for hooliganism? They were always the troublemakers who failed to bring in an empty milk-carton to transform into a mail-box.

While the rest of us were busy pasting construction-paper hearts onto our mailboxes, those few children stood morosely behind the teacher as she excavated the supply closet, hoping against hope that she'd find a few extra milk cartons. Valentine's Day, at that tender age, was an equal opportunity holiday.

About these cupcakes . . .

The recipe I used for today's cupcakes comes from the book, Great Cakes, by Carole Walter. This cake batter is somewhere on the spectrum between a sponge cake and a regular yellow butter cake. (You could use this recipe, in the same proportions listed, for a standard two-layer cake.) It has a satisfying crumb and a full vanilla flavor. It's not too eggy, and it's sturdy without being dense.

Though one might typically frost a cupcake like this with a good chocolate buttercream, or a fluffy white icing, I decided to opt for the subdued sweetness you get from flavored whipped cream. The raspberry aspect is provided by about a tablespoon or so of seedless preserves that you mix in after the cream has been whipped to firm peaks.

A bit of sifted powdered sugar helps to stabilize the whipped cream and adds a touch of additional sweetness. The ultra-softness of whipped cream is a nice surprise when it appears on the top of a cupcake, especially a Valentine cupcake.


Vanilla Cupcakes with Raspberry Whipped Cream

Makes 24 regular size cupcakes.

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line two 12-cup muffin pans with paper liners. (You may have a little batter leftover, perhaps enough for one large cupcake. I just baked that one extra cupcake in a Pyrex glass custard cup.)

3 cups sifted cake flour
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup butter, unsalted (The recipe doesn't specify, but I'd suggest the butter be at cool room temperature, not too soft.)
2 cups superfine sugar
4 eggs, large
1 and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract (I also added in about three drops of almond extract; it doesn't add in any obvious almond taste, but I think it gives the vanilla more dimension.)
1 cup milk (I used whole)

Sift together the salt, flour, and baking powder. Set aside.

Cut the butter into 1" pieces and put them in the large bowl of your mixer; using the paddle attachment, soften them on low speed. Then, increase the speed to medium-high and cream until smooth and light in color, about 1 and 1/2 to 2 minutes.


Still at medium-high speed, add in the sugar, 1 Tbsp. at a time over a period of 8 to 10 minutes to blend it in well, scraping the bowl occasionally. (Not kidding--she really says to do this that slowly!)


Add the eggs in one at a time at one minute intervals, scraping as needed. Blend in the vanilla.


Reduce the mixer speed to medium-low. Add in the dry ingredients alternately with the milk, starting and ending with flour; do four additions of flour and three additions of milk. Mix just until incorporated for each addition. Scrape the bowl, and then mix 10 seconds longer.


Spoon the batter into your muffin cups, filling each one about 2/3 full.


Bake the cupcakes for about 10 to 12 minutes, then check them with a toothpick inserted into the center. If it comes out clean, they're done. They should be just a little golden on top.

Let the cupcakes cool in the pan, set on a rack, for just a few minutes, then take them out of the pan to cool completely on a rack.


For the raspberry whipped cream:

1 and 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 to 2 Tbsp. seedless raspberry jam, or regular raspberry jam that have been well strained
2/3 cup sifted confectioners' sugar

Chill a small or medium-sized metal mixer bowl in your freezer for five minutes or in your fridge for ten minutes. Attach the bowl to your mixer and pour in 1 and 1/2 cups of very cold heavy cream. Beat on low speed for the first 30 seconds or so, then increase the speed to medium and beat until soft peaks just begin to form. Slowly add in about 2/3 of a cup of sifted confectioners' sugar. Beat until the peaks become obviously firm but not over-whipped and stiff.

Turn off the mixer and, using a flexible spatula, gently fold in 1 to 2 Tbsp. of seedless raspberry jam. The jam alone won't make the whipped cream very pink. If you want the whipped cream to be more pink, add in a tiny bit of gel food coloring; gel coloring is moist enough to mix in easily and its color is very potent so you need need a dab. Don't use liquid food coloring if you can help it, because it may add too much moisture to the cream.


Wait until the cupcakes are completely cool to frost them. Once you've frosted them, serve them soon. Store any extra frosted cupcakes in the fridge to prevent the whipped cream from separating.


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