Apple Fritter Day

My friend Claudia said, the only way to measure how many Christmas cutout cookies you made is to weigh your children before and after you do the work. I would suggest you do the same when making apple fritters. Maybe weigh the adults, too. Especially the adults, judging by who was hungry for lunch and who wasn't. 

Coated with a cinnamon-y glaze, my sister Laura's still-warm apple fritters have this unbeatable crusty outside and beautifully soft inside. I think the gentle crustiness is what makes them so amazing. Possibly the only thing better than warm apple fritters are warm apple fritters shared with family and paired with coffee. The combination is heavenly. So is the aroma.

But wait. Laura? You say apple fritters weren't the main reason we gathered today? Trust me, I'd come to your house just for warm apple fritters. Call me anytime. But I get it. The fritters were the bait. Or, more accurately, fritters are a sweet tradition we have come to know and love on the day we make applesauce together. 

Fueled by fritters and coffee, we each cut up an apple or two hundred. Or more. However many it takes to make 163 quarts of applesauce. 

Some jars were sweetened with 
red hots to make cinnamon applesauce. The
red hot candies are dropped in just before
closing the jar and will be stirred in
when it is served. 

I suppose Some People might call it Applesauce Day, considering we annually can a year's worth of applesauce for 2 to 4 families. But Some People probably don't have a sister who wakes up before daybreak to make apple fritters and have them warm and ready when everyone arrives. If you don't have a sister like that, I'm sorry. 

Happy recipient of Aunt Laura's fritters

How I Read My Bible

A year ago, I walked to the bookstore next door and purchased the cheapest paperback chronological Bible they sold. My focus was not on chronology, nor even on the newer-than-KJV translation I selected. My goal for 2023 was to read the Word with specific themes in mind and mark each theme with a different color.

If you do this in your expensive leatherbound Bible, feel no judgment from me. I write in my nice Bible too, though without the freedom and voracity with which I’m marking my paperback. I think the opaque paper (as opposed to vellum-like pages) is more conducive to note making. Also, since this is a cheaper printing, not expected to last a lifetime, I’m not afraid that someday I’ll regret my notes. I wanted to be able to use this Bible as an interactive Bible study. 

Part of the inspiration for purchasing a paperback Bible to protect my gilt-edged Bible from a prolific pen; the rest of my inspiration came from C. T. Studd, a missionary. I was told he purchased a new Bible every year. He liked to mark up his Bibles but didn’t want those markings to permanently influence what he read. He began each year with an unmarked Book to allow the Spirit of God to speak to him afresh, without already-marked verses to distract him. I thought, what a great idea. And, eleven months later, I'm still happy with my decision. 

Before I began reading, I spent a couple weeks considering the themes I wanted to focus on and settled on these:

--Names of God

--Character-qualities or attributes of God

--Promises of God

--Prophecies foretold/fulfilled

--People’s response to God

--Who I am in Christ

The names and character qualities of God have been my favorites. Stories change in meaning according to what you focus on as you read. If you are reading the story of Abraham looking for human qualities of trust and obedience, you’ll find them. If you read the same story searching to see God and His character traits, you will find Him. These two themes have brought my Bible to life in a glorious, hands-raised-to-heaven way. 

Partway through the year, I heard a message on gossip. At the pastor’s recommendation, I read the book of Proverbs in an afternoon, and marked all the verses that pertain to the tongue and speech. I added that theme to my list, considering speech is one area that repeatedly gets me into trouble. The tongue/speech theme brought my total to seven, their color code easily kept track of on an index card I use as a bookmark.

The Bible is meant to be studied and enjoyed, and I have found this thematic method to be an engaging way to do that. I recommend it to you.

Buy a cheap paperback Bible you won’t mind marking up. Go for a chronological, especially if you haven’t already read the Story in the order it occurred. The positive of a chronological Bible, of course, is that verses and chapters are organized in the order they happened. David’s psalms, for example, follow the story that inspired them. The negative part of a chronological Bible is that sometimes you feel like you are rereading the same passage. In Samuel, you read the list of David’s mighty men, then in the next paragraph, you read the same list from Chronicles. But reading the Story in the order events took place makes up for any repetition.

Mine is a one-year Bible, a price-driven purchase. In the past, I’ve fallen hopelessly behind in Bible reading plans which always made me feel like I needed to do a reading marathon to catch up or live with guilt and discouragement for being behind. Neither response is life giving and both puts a damper on morning devotions. This year, with a baby on board, I knew I wouldn’t stay on target, but I didn’t let that discourage me. My ultimate goal is to read the Bible and learn more about these seven areas I’m highlighting. If it takes two years instead of one to finish the Book, my mission is still accomplished.

Choose your themes. In my experience, seven themes are too many. I’m far enough in the year to discontinue any now, but in the future, I will choose to have maybe 3-5. I have years ahead of me, Lord willing, which means I can read the Bible again and again while focusing on other themes. I don’t need to knock them all out in one sitting.

Make a color code for your themes and write it on an index card you can use as a bookmark. I also wrote mine on the flyleaf of my Bible in case the index card gets lost. A bookmark makes your life easy, especially when you have seven colors to keep track of.

Mark your Bible as you read. Underline, bracket, circle, or highlight verses or phrases that pertain to the themes you are taking note of. Fill margins with notes, ideas, inspiration, and thoughts. 

I’m using colored pens (LePen) so my underlines are brilliant. I had started the year using colored pencils but not every color showed up well enough to please me. I know LePen might eventually bleed through the pages, but since this isn’t my leatherbound Bible, I’m okay with that. So far, the worst is that the darkest colors can be seen on the back of the page, but it isn’t distinct enough for me to change my pen choice. 

Regardless of the method you use to read the Word, enjoy the Lord and your friendship with Him. He is worth all the time and effort you invest in your relationship.

Not a Plant Lady

 

The orchid on my windowsill pushed out its sixth bud, and the plant beside it is overgrowing its container. When I see them, I could almost forget that I am not a Plant Lady. I know my children haven’t forgotten because my son asked, “Mom, when that plant on your windowsill dies, could I have the stones at the bottom of the jar?”

The plant he referred to is alive. That was more than I could confidently say about the succulent I had purchased a year ago. The succulent wasn’t in my care for many moons until its health deteriorated significantly. I kept it gently moist and bathed in sunshine, but it gradually lost its vibrant color, fading from a rich emerald to a pale lime. Worse, it wasn’t growing. I hoped its stunted growth wasn’t a sign of imminent death. Maybe it was simply a stunned response to finding itself in my hands. A plant’s version of PTSD.

While my succulent crouched pale and unresponsive on my windowsill, I received an invitation to a ladies’ gathering at a greenhouse. We would eat a catered meal together (not harvested from the greenhouse) and listen to an inspirational topic. Afterwards, the ladies would participate in a houseplant exchange. This posed a problem.

At the time, I only had two houseplants: an orchid which was blooming profusely for the third year in a row, and a succulent that I knew not whether it was dead or alive. I couldn’t part with my orchid—my one houseplant success—and I didn’t suppose I could give away a sickly succulent, even though the invitation didn’t specify that we should bring living plants. In the end, I took none and decided it was best for plants and people if I simply didn’t participate in the exchange.

But when the plant exchange began, I found myself standing next to a Plant Lady who brought not just one but two healthy houseplants. She saw my empty hands, heard my confession, and offered me a snake plant. “I wasn’t sure why I brought two plants anyway. Here. You take this one. I’ve never seen a dead snake plant, so I’m sure it will grow for you.”

“You haven’t seen a dead one?” I asked, snickering. “Come visit me in a month or two.”

But a year later, the snake plant lives on. Unlike the beautiful palm that came to me as a gorgeous fountain of six dark green fronds in a gray ceramic pot. The palm looked so pretty in my living room window. But after a month of being in my care, brown crept up one of the fronds. Ah, the old exchanging for the new, I thought. But no. Hardly had the first dead leaf fallen when another frond was edged in brown. In the coming months, I watered the palm. I withheld water. I moved it to a new window, thinking more sunshine would revive it. I took it to a new room, hoping a change of scenery would stimulate hope and life. But like the lemmings who race each other to their demise, the remaining five fronds chased each other to their death. Eventually, my son carried the palm’s carcass to the garbage heap.

If my indoor plant failures weren’t enough to convince my children that their mom is Not a Plant Lady, the tulip story sealed my reputation. Someone gave me a bag of flower bulbs as a hostess gift. I admired the picture on the packet, feeling warmed because now our flowerbeds would have spring flowers like so many other homes in beautiful Lancaster County. And not just any spring flowers but fancy ones, according to the picture on the packet. I received the bulbs during the busy days of canning season, so I stowed them in the garage where they lay forgotten until spring.

“Mom, can I plant these?”

My daughter held a mound of flower bulbs in her cupped hands. Ah. My spring flowers. Tulips, if I recalled correctly. I couldn’t remember the picture on the long-gone packaging, but I knew it had especially pleased me. Were they miniature tulips? Ones with frilly edges? I couldn’t remember. I only recalled the warmth and happiness they brought because they weren’t ordinary flowers. She planted the bulbs and I willed them to grow.

Green poked through the soil. “Oh, look!” I said, enormously pleased. “Our tulips are growing!”

Leaves shot upwards—narrow leaves for tulips, but that was consistent with my memory of these flowers having unusual qualities.

And then, “Oh, look! My tulips are budding!”

My interest changed to alarm when every single bud drooped until it was parallel to the ground. Not being a Plant Lady, I didn't know what might have caused this. Were they diseased? Planted too shallow? Did bugs chew tunnels through the bulbs? I hated to break the news to my daughter, but I thought a fair warning was in order.

“I’m afraid there is something wrong with our tulips,” I told her. “The buds aren’t supposed to bend down like that. I don’t think they’ll bloom after all.”

But they did bloom. And they were daffodils. White daffodils with yellow centers and extra petals.

I am not a Plant Lady, but maybe there’s still hope for me. My lime green succulent pushed out new growth. I have a sparse and spindly—but living—snake plant. I have an orchid that bloomed four years in succession and a gloxinia that survived my son’s dark predictions of its death. I have even kept a new-to-me Chinese money plant alive, green, and growing for several months. It’s that money plant that I have my eye on. As soon as it produces cold hard cash, I’ll know I have finally become a bona fide Plant Lady.

Balloon Countdown to the Last Day of School

You know how those last few weeks of school are, right? Excitement builds because summer is coming. I like to countdown the final ten days with ten activities so our school year ends with fireworks (well, not literally, though that would be fun). Our creative journal also reflected our countdown.

Our miniature chalkboard was worth its $1.00 at Dollar Tree. But more fun than that were the 10 balloons, each holding a slip of paper. We popped one balloon per day and did the activity listed within.

DAY 10's Balloon: Eat an ice cream bar at 9:47
Creative Notebook entry: Make a large 10 out of paper. Glue it on your page. Write 10 states/countries and capitals you memorized this year.

DAY 9's Balloon: Do your subjects in alphabetical order

Creative Notebook entry: Glue on a large 9. Write 9 people you studied about in history this year. 

DAY 8's Balloon: Watch "How Things are Made"

Creative Journal entry: Make a large 8. Write the names of 8 friends you made at co-op.

DAY 7's Balloon: Estimate how many items are in the container. Closest guess wins a prize. (I also offered a 2nd and 3rd prize, which was perfect, considering I only have 3 children.)

Creative Journal entry: Glue on a large 7. Using colored pencils, write 7 fun things we did or places we went this school year. 

DAY 6's Balloon: Lollipop Treat!

Creative Journal entry: Make a 6 with Roman numerals. Write six things that distracted you out of our classroom window.

DAY 5's Balloon: Write on your desk day. (After I covered it with a long roll of paper.) They used the paper for math computations, spelling words, a few notes and doodles. 

Creative Journal entry: Draw a clock and set it to 5:00. Write 5 formulas you learned in math.

DAY 4's Balloon:  National Apple Pie Day! Go to McDonald's and get a hot apple pie. 

Creative Journal entry: Draw a 4 using unusual objects to form your number. Write 4 of your favorite subjects.

DAY 3's Balloon: Drink chocolate milk at 10:42

Creative Journal entry: Make a giant 3 and add fireworks. Write 3 occupations that might interest you when you are an adult.

DAY 2's Balloon: Color Tag! Play tag with your friends, using squeeze bottles full of colored cornstarch like that which is used in Color Runs. 

Creative Journal entry: Make a large and colorful 2. Write 2 things you might like to do this summer.

 

LAST DAY OF SCHOOL! Break our 180-link paper chain and open your Last Day of School present. 

Creative Journal entry: Write the words finished, done, and the end in several languages. 

The ideas you just saw were for our 2021-2022 year. With a baby in our house this year, I was low on time and inspiration, so I reviewed that list and mimicked those ideas. Instead of National Apple Pie Day, it was National Orange Juice Day, so we drank orange juice while watching how it is made commercially. Our highlight wasn't a Color Run but a Mexican Party, complete with fish tacos, a pinata, and friends. 

Fish tacos, chips & salsa, pineapple, and soft drinks in 
glass bottles. 

And with that, school is out for another year! 

Waiting on Spring

March 2021. 

Earth stood calm and unresisting while winter spit sleet against her breast. Snow fell on snow, piling deep and cold. Ponds in her pastures solidified. Trees towered barren and brown. Against this onslaught, Earth offered no rebuttal. Winter’s denial couldn’t negate the truth that fueled her steady calm; she was pregnant with pulsating life, and the hope of spring.

The sun was on her side, fending off winter, melting snow, and preparing her nurseries. Then, when she could no longer restrain the life throbbing within, her children were born. Passersby stopped to admire her firstborn crocuses and to photograph floral siblings blooming on the dogwood tree. Earth dandled magnolias on her knees and smiled broadly at the tulips playing at her feet. They were her offspring, all of them richly colored and exceptionally beautiful.

Spring had come.

Like the earth, I waited. I was pregnant with hope, yes, but I lacked Earth’s certainty that my winter would end. And then our basement stank like wet dog—we had no dog—and on another day, Walmart’s produce department smelled fermented and sickening. My confidence rose. That metallic taste in my mouth? Hope lay thick upon hope.

But the days until I could take a test stretched out like months and the week like a year. I passed the time by pairing middle names with the girl’s name we already had chosen. I researched baby carriers, disliking the bulky knot on the famed Boba wrap and chatting with a Konny representative on whether their sash stays in place without constant adjustments. I fingered tiny onesies at the store and considered fun ways I could announce our pregnancy to my family.

I multitasked all week. That is, I dreamed wildly about birth and babies while carrying out mundane responsibilities. Each evening, I collapsed onto the recliner, unusually but happily tired. This kind of tiredness could only mean one thing.

My hands shook when I opened the pregnancy test package. By now I felt so pregnant that I supposed I could spit on the test and get a positive reading. Taking the test was mere formality.

I followed package instructions, then laid the test aside without even looking at the window where the confirmation would appear. It would be best, I decided, to wait to look until both lines were bold and bright. I washed my hands and combed back my hair. I picked around at facial blemishes—something I had plenty of, considering the way my complexion had deteriorated in the last week. I scrutinized my teeth, wondering if they were yellowing with age. I even groomed my eyebrows. But I didn’t look at the tantalizing test. I would wait all three minutes. No, four, just to be safe.

When the parallel lines had ample time to go from baby pink to screaming scarlet to booming brown, I turned and looked, barely breathing. The results were in. A single line in screaming scarlet.

The test was negative.

Barren branches of the sycamore waved to me from outside the bathroom window and tapped a sympathetic staccato on the metal porch roof. A nest clung tenaciously to its branches. It too was empty. Empty and cold.

Spring had not sprung for everyone. Maybe next month it would be here. A gauze of hope laid itself thinly across the raw earth of my heart.

Spring always comes.

Or does it?

April 2023. 

Spring has come. 

Celebrating Day 100

One of my favorite days to celebrate in our homeschool is nearly upon us--the 100th day of school. You might recognize some of the ideas listed below because they were posted here, hidden halfway down our list of Fun February Days. Others were used more recently.

Ways to Celebrate Day 100:

• Make a 100-link paper chain. (We kept the chain up for the rest of the year, adding five links every Friday. In the end, we had a 180-link chain. Very impressive.)
• Sit by the window and count 100 vehicles. In your creative journal, draw the 100th car that goes by. (One benefit of living along a busy road is that this took less than 10 minutes.)
• Write a 100-word story in your creative journal using as many words as possible that equal 100--century, dollar, centimeter, Ben Franklin ($100 bill).
• Choose an encyclopedia and write the entry words on page 100.
• Have our Traditional Day 100 Lunch of soft pretzels

• Build something using 100 LEGOs
• Put together 100-piece puzzles
• Draw a picture using 100 as the base

• Learn about America 100 years ago. Who was President? What did a new car cost? What was the price of gasoline? Record your answers in your creative journal.
• Run a 100-yard dash. (We did ours in snow and winter gear and broke no world record.)
• Estimate how long 100 inches is, then measure to see how accurately you estimated
• Write a special candy bar letter to your students. 
  
  
  
  
  

Finally, here is a link to 50 Ideas to Celebrate the 100th Day of School which is where I gleaned some of the ideas I used. One idea I love but haven't used is to visit a 100-year-old person and have them share memories of their childhood. 

What have you done to celebrate Day 100? Leave your ideas in the comments--especially if you don't mind me borrowing them. 

Celebrating Half Day

As a homeschooling mom, I try to keep my children from being eaten alive by monotonous school days. I certainly don't always succeed; many of our days look startlingly alike. But one way I fight boredom is by celebrating milestones. Tomorrow is Day 90 for us, or Half Day since we log 180 days per school year. In my opinion, the easiest way to honor Half Day is at lunch. Cut everything in half, serve half cups of juice, or have a half dozen grapes per person. My children are unaware that Half Day is upon us, so I'll surprise them tomorrow with Half Day Lunch, serving it on paper plates that have been cut in half, of course.

If you want more ideas on how to celebrate this milestone, here are, well, half of the ideas. The other half are the ones you come up with yourself. Just don't cut things in half like recess or rewards. 

1. Take a half mile walk
2. Use a half an hour segment of your day to play an educational game. Consider playing Memory, since you need to find the other half of each pair. 
3. Do half a dozen exercises
4. Skip half of the review questions in Arithmetic. (Provided they understand the concept and don't need the practice.)
5. Draw half of an object in your creative journal or cut an item in half and tape it in your creative journal. My twist on this will be to have my children glue or tape the other half of the object in their sibling's journal. 
6. Write half of a short story (like, two paragraphs long) and give it to someone else to write the second half. 

I updated this post to show you the lunch 
I made for my children.