Let me be brief....

Monday, the day after Mum left, I was kind of hoping for a quiet day.

Instead, we had the underwear wars.

Children chasing each other, screaming through the hallways and slamming doors...

...and running away from the camera-bearing-Nana.

Thomy was too modest to remove his t-shirt and Kenzie was above it all.

Don't ask me Why?

It just was.

Redemption and meanderings

For the last week, I have been feeling rather put out. Here I was, spending precious hours on deep, thoughtful blog posts for you, my gentle readers, and no on was commenting on them. Well, hardly anyone. Not that Jenny and Mari are hardly anyone, but you know what I mean. But then, when I logged in just now, I saw that there were TEN comments that needed moderating. Usually I get an email, but it seems that Blogger arbitrarily decided to quit notifying me. So now you are all published and I LOVE YOU!!!!! Thank you thank you, kisses blown and adulation accepted!
YOU LIKE ME, YOU REALLY LIKE ME......

Well.
Anyway.
Back to meandering.
Oh, that's right, I was!

Last night I went on a little coupon redemption spree at Safeway.
I haven't been using many coupons lately, due to trying to change our eating habits. But I discovered that these granola bars are gluten-free (for Josh and Bethany) and also devoid of any high-fructose corn syrup. So I acquired this snacky stash for $5.42 and also took home a coupon for $3.50 off my next shopping order.
Score!

On Saturday, one of my Mum's last acts in the country was to participate in a parade. She will be 82 later this month and it was the first time she has ever been in a parade.

They're not quite as gung-ho about parades in New Zealand.

It was stiflingly hot, so she and the Fab Four rode in the back of a truck.

Rob's Green Beans were in fine form, almost 160 of us all together. 

We ruled the Tualatin Crawfish Parade!

Yes.

Crawfish.

If you look at the right of this photo, you can see the beginning of our group waaaaaay ahead of us, to the left of the sign on the right.

Got that?

This man goes along with my wildest schemes.

Usually, he even has a good attitude.

Gotta love that in a mate!

I talked him into gleaning blueberries with me on Monday night.

For two-and-a-half hours.

We picked thirty pounds. 

That makes FIFTY-SIX POUNDS for the season.

I dare any of you to beat that.
On the way home I thanked him for helping me.
I guess that's the price I pay, he said.
Pay for what? I asked.
Being married to Sue, was his reply.
Hmph.
Not sure about the attitude on that one!

My Mum is safe and sound at home in New Zealand. It was a bit scary, sending her off to various airports in her state of mind, but she only had one faux pas. I had packed her some fruit and snacks for her waiting time in San Francisco. I knew she would forget she had them so I wrote her a reminder note and put it in her handbag, through which she is always rifling. Well, going through customs in NZ , the fruit-detecting beagles sniffed out  the orange and grapes that she had not found in her bag. My sister and I can only imagine THAT scenario! Luckily, the customs officials must have figured out that Mum has bats in the belfry, because they didn't slap her with the $200 automatic fine. Her comment to Anne? I wish I had known I had the fruit because I was really hungry.

Oh, and Don't tell Susan.

Sigh.

We will not be sending Mum on that trip.

Ever again.

Remind me of that next year, would you?

On a brighter note, I spent this morning at a piano teachers' workshop in Portland, and I have returned home invigorated and full of new ideas and enthusiasm for this teaching year. I also have some ideas for expanding my preschool and senior music groups about which I am very excited. Time to get back in the working groove, after a slightly strange summer.

Oh, and my sister loves her handbag.

Her husband even approves of it.

The JD test, Anne calls it.

His initials, if you're wondering.

AND...

We're having a baby soon. But not too soon, I hope, because Jeff and I have tickets booked for North Carolina for September 17th, and I don't want to miss too many of the early days of our little Elsie's life.

So, there's my life lately in a nutshell. 

A little bit weird, but it's my life.

Feel free to share any of your highlights in the comments section.

Did I mention how much I love comments?

An apple is an excellent thing...

...until you have tried a peach. George du Maurier.

Late summer in Oregon means one thing.

Peaches.

Furry, sweet-smelling, rosy peaches.

Which leads to the inevitable (in my house) peach shortcake.

And I'm not talking about your "strawberry shortcake" of the American ilk here, but a buttery, not too sweet  Australian concoction.

My first job after high school was in a book store. I was like a raccoon in a cherry tree. One of my first purchases was this lovely cookbook. I also bought lots of Dr. Seuss books, but that's another story. It is covered in the heavy duty plastic that covers many of my books from that era. Book store employee, don't you know?  In the last thirty five years, I have spent hours poring over the pictures and imagining the tastes of many of the dishes.

And cooking some of them.

One of my favourite recipes is this one.

As you can see, I wasn't content to stick to apples. 

I mean, apples are perfect for many things, but there is so much more to life than apples.

The strawberry-rhubarb incarnation has its appeal, to be sure.

But this time of year, nothing says "shortcake" like peaches, so here is my version.

I have given this recipe out several times over the years, but I'm reasonably sure that no one has ever actually made it. Which puzzles me beyond belief, because it's so easy.

Peach Shortcake
4 oz unsalted butter
1/2 c sugar
1 egg
2 c flour
1 tsp BP
1/2 tsp salt
3 ripe peaches
Cream butter and sugar. Add egg, then dry ingredients. You can substitute 1/2 c wheat flour for white without compromising taste. Mix as well as you can with spoon, then use your hand to knead into a nice, smooth lump of dough. Don't over mix.
Cut the dough in half...

...and spread on the bottom of a greased, 9" round pan. I like heavy-duty aluminium pans, which give a light crust. 

Peel and chop the peaches and spread liberally on the crust. If the peaches look sparse, add another one. Can't have too many peaches in this baby!

Now for the genius part.

Rip off a square of waxed paper. Place it on your counter and pat the rest of the dough out on it in a 9" circle. Then just upend the dough on top of the peaches. It doesn't have to be perfect, because it will rise to fit the pan.

Brush the top of the cake with milk or cream, sprinkle with sugar (sometimes I use cinnamon sugar) and bake at 350 for about 30 minutes. The sugar will be crispy and the cake will barely be turning golden when it is done.

Now, for the best part. 

Eat warm with vanilla ice cream, if you want to be a heathen.

Personally, I like it in a bowl with milk poured over it.

For breakfast.

PS: I always double this recipe, because it takes about the same amount of time and then you can share.

PPS: If anyone EVER makes one of the recipes I so lovingly post, I would LOVE to hear about it.

Random edibles on my counter last night

Fresh green beans and rainbow carrots from the garden, ready to be cooked for dinner.

The latest batch of kefir.

Chocolates ready to be sent home to my sis with Mum.

******  ''' ******

I spent tonight packing for Mum. 

The job is quite beyond her powers of concentration these days.
Her ID necklace is updated.

The cute Liz Clairborne purse I bought today for my sister is packed.

I love this purse quite unreasonably.

I've always purchased purses more for price and size than love.

It's ironic that the first time I ever buy for love it would be for someone else. 

Or maybe not.

She is, after all, my only sister.

Joy in the morning

Weeping may endure for a night; but joy cometh in the morning. Psalms 30:5.

A church leader once said that we should strive for our children to live better lives than have we. The idea resonated somewhere deep in my soul and I took it to heart. And believe me when I say that I do not always respond thusly to counsel from church leaders.
Remember my inner rebel?
I'm not sure I changed any of my ways, but I have been tickled continually at how my children as adults are all, in their own ways, better than their Dad and me.
Not, I hasten to add (lest they become fat-headed) in everything!
But each one is doing something in his or her life better than I have ever done.
I'm not going to elaborate in detail, because that would be thrasonical and no doubt boring to anyone not specifically mentioned. But I have to share this photo, which I took on Thursday.
Bethany took G-Nana and Jenny shopping at the outlet mall at the coast and I watched all six grandkids at her house. Bethany home schools her four kids now, which has been wonderfully effective, even for the two little ones. She has grown nicely into motherhood. It is always amazing to me how she copes with her four very strong-willed children, because she was fairly passive as a child. But cope she does, rising to each new challenge as it occurs.
I must admit that when she had less kids and they were younger, I was sometimes aghast at the lack of routine in their lives. Routine has become more of a necessity, and I had to laugh when I read her bulletin board.

That's my daughter!

So, Bethany, hope that was okay.

And the other three, don't get your noses out of joint because I didn't shout your praises today.

Oh, and the scripture?

I almost forgot.

Well, you know, I have cried buckets and lost many nights of sleep over each one of my children.

Now is the joyful morning!

A point of view

I am an awesome grower of green beans. I prefer the old-fashioned runner beans, because they keep me supplied all summer long from their gangly vines. Although, this year, they have only just started producing because of the late start to summer. Over the last three days, I have gathered enough tiny beans to accompany our dinner tonight. I like to pick them when they are six inches or less. They are so sweet and tender, there is no better green thing.

Take note, you Sue detractors: I do eat vegetables! They just have to be the right ones.

As I was searching for little beans today, I thought again (as I have often thought when hunting strawberries and blueberries this season) that it all depends on your point of view. You can look and look, seeing nothing....

...but as soon as you move, just a smidgen....

...wonderful things become apparent.

Even though you might have to squint to see them.

I've been blindsided by a couple of things recently.

Nothing earthshaking.

Just life stuff.

But it preys on my mind till all I can see is what's in front of my eyes.

I think I need a new point of view.

An unnatural pastime

It's unnatural for people to go running around the city streets unless they are thieves or victims. It makes people nervous to see someone running. I know that when I see someone running on my street, my instincts tell me to let the dog go after him. Mike Royko.

I'm still not sure why I have taken up the dastardly habit of running. 

Well, maybe I do, but I think it's in vain.

I keep thinking that it will aid in my losing futile Battle of the Bulge.

So Saturday morning, bright and early, we drove to McMinnville for the first annual Run, Run, Ye Saints. That's a Mormon funny, for the uninitiated. 

As a new waddler runner, I was aiming for the 5K. Jeff, who is about to run in his third Hood-to-Coast relay, was geared up for the 10K. Hope, who rode out with us, was ambivalent about the whole thing.

Hope and I were feeling pretty fresh.

Hey, make sure I'm looking skinny in this one!

We are so going to nail this.

Jeff and our friend Bill, who had the distinction of being the oldest runner in the pack.

Bill is an inspiration to us all.

Yep, still feeling pretty fresh!

The only reason I would take up jogging is so that I could hear heavy breathing again. Erma Bombeck.

And then we started running.

It was a nice, flat route, with pretty pink arrows for us to follow.
The last part wound around some neighbourhood streets that abounded with garage sales.
I was sorely tempted, but my resolve remained firm.
I waddled ran every step of the way, except for the water station.
Total time: 37:43.
I know, awesome, right?
I think I'll rest on these laurels for a while, maybe longer if I do.

Wow, I've had a lot of random lyrics roaming through my head lately.

Here is Lindsay, looking svelte after her run.
Lindsay is a photographer and blogger extraordinaire.

And Linds, I think it's a cute pose!

Lindsay helped organize the run, along with Brenda, her Mom.

Who is a mite obsessed with running these days.

And is probably to blame for my even considering the pastime.

I just had to post this photo. This is our friend Kimberly, who looks disgustingly perky for having just run 10K in very good time. 

I feel unreasonably resentful of Kimberly.

The Man.

Finishing with Flair.

Our ward had the best turnout.

Probably from being nagged to death  reminded so often and enthusiastically by Brenda.

On Monday morning I awoke with the lyrics And I will hang my head, hang my head low running on auto-repeat through my head. See, I told you, random lyrics. I couldn't remember where I had heard them. Late in the day, it came to me. My MP3 player, which is my trusty running companion, contains all the tracks of the Decemberists' Crane Wife. Quirky  songs, but I like them.

I don't think jogging is healthy, especially morning jogging. If morning joggers knew how tempting they looked to morning motorists, they would stay home and do sit-ups. Rita Rudner.