New Year's Bell

Sabang City on Weh Island in Aceh – the only region in Muslim-majority Indonesia that has implemented Sharia law – has banned residents from celebrating the new year. “Irresponsible” activities such as those involving air horns, noise makers or fireworks are strictly forbidden. Tourists and other visitors are included in the prohibition. Sabang’s Mayor Nazaruddin offered this clarification: “We are not banning local or international tourists coming to Sabang. We would be happy if Sabang was crowded with tourists. But we expect incoming tourists to adapt to the customs and cultures of Sabang City.” The city is even barring Islamic activities such as zikir (chants praising God), yasinan (Quran recitals), tausiyah (sermons) and similar activities on New Year's Eve as it would make it feel as if the Gregorian New Year celebration was allowed in Islam. Luckily, I don’t live in Sabang, and I don’t intend to visit. I’ll just wish you a happy new year from here.

Double Dutch

“I ask anew the question offered by Pilate two thousand years ago, “What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:22) Indeed, we need continually to ask ourselves, ‘What shall we do with Jesus who is called Christ? What shall we do with his teachings, and how can we make them an inseparable part of our lives?’ In light of these questions, at this season we ask another: ‘What does Christmas really mean?’ May I suggest some things that it should mean? Christmas means giving. The Father gave his Son, and the Son gave his life. Without giving there is no true Christmas, and without sacrifice there is no true worship. There is more to Christmas than neckties, earrings, toys, and all the tinseled stuff of which we make so much.” - President Gordon B. Hinckley

Sunlight and Shadow

One tree can start a forest.

One smile can begin a friendship.

One hand can lift a soul.

One word can frame a goal.

One candle can wipe out darkness.

One laugh can conquer gloom.

One hope can raise your spirits.

One touch can show you care.

One life can make a difference.

Be that One today.

-          Source unknown

Four Inch Flying Dutchman

We’ve been so preoccupied with all our holiday preparations, it went unnoticed. Winter solstice slipped by about a week ago. That means we’ve at least another 83 days of ice and snow ahead before the spring equinox. Here are a few quotes to help us plow through:

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’” – Lewis Carroll

“People don’t notice whether it’s spring or winter when they’re happy.” – Anton Chekov

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is time for home.” – Edith Sitwell

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.” – Hal Borland

“O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?” – Percy Bysshe Shelley

Log Cabin Star

Jack and Emily Jokinen live in Philadelphia with their month-old daughter Johanna and a yellow dog named George. In the wee hours of the morning two Saturdays ago, Emily woke Jack to tell him there was a second dog in the house. The windows and doors were all locked. Was this dog some sort of magician? Jack checked footage from his security camera and found he hadn’t completely shut the front door after walking George the night before. The door had blown open, and a good Samaritan passing by had shut it. But while it was open, an injured and emaciated pup had limped inside. The Jokinens took her to a vet to check for a microchip. When they found she didn’t have one, they decided to keep her and name her Suzy. “Of all the bad things that could happen when your front door is left open, to end up with a sweet dog who just needs a good home, I mean, wow.”

Nine Santa Stars

The columnist Gladys Bagg Taylor once said, “Christmas is a bridge. We need bridges as the river of time flows past. Today's Christmas should mean creating happy hours for tomorrow and reliving those of yesterday.” When I make Grandma’s popcorn balls or divinity and when I hang the Christmas stocking my mother knitted for me, I know Gladys was right. When I smell gingerbread cookies or ham baking in the oven, it instantly brings back the Christmases of my childhood. For the past few Friday mornings KSL has been running snippets from Yogi Yorgesson’s “I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas,” and I’m reminded of Grandma’s and Grandpa’s laughter. Dean Martin’s “The Christmas Blues” was another of their favorites, along with almost anything sung by Bing Crosby. I watch my grandkids enjoying the holiday season, and I can’t help but wonder. Which of the traditions of Christmas will they remember and cherish? Which will they try to pass on to their grandchildren?

Cloverleaf

I love the smell of holiday candles – in the store. Somehow when I get them home and finally get around to lighting them, they’re not quite the same. If I really want my house to smell like Christmas, I bake something. Or I load my slow cooker with something like this:

  

Holiday Potpourri

  

1 cup fresh cranberries

3 tangerines, halved

3 whole cinnamon sticks

Star anise (This has a strong black licorice smell. If you don’t like that, skip it.)

1 teaspoon whole cloves

1-inch piece fresh ginger

1 tablespoon vanilla bean

1 small branch fresh pine (You can grab a twig from a Christmas tree lot.) 

1 cup apple cider

Place all ingredients in slow cooker; add enough water to fill 2/3 of the way up. Cover and cook on low four to eight hours. You can let it cool at night and reheat in the morning, if you don’t let the water level get too low.

Another New World

“Bishop Sellers’ Rexburg, Idaho chapel was close to the highway. In those days of unemployment, many destitute people moved from place to place, hoping to find some way to sustain themselves. They would often seek out Latter-day Saint bishops for help. The Sellers family welcomed strangers in need. After guests enjoyed a delicious meal, the bishop gave them a coat from the supply of surplus army coats he’d purchased. Once fitted in a warm coat and holding a package with another meal prepared by Sister Sellers, they would go out into the winter day with warm hearts. The sights and sounds and the feeling of the day would stay with them on their way. Because some of the coldest times in Rexburg were in the Christmas season and because of the family’s tradition of year-round charity, the children in the Sellers home carry a memory of having done what the Savior would have done.” – President Henry B. Eyring

Cornerstones

If your house is like ours, you’ve already accumulated several shipping boxes in just the past week or two. Amazon says they ship an average of 608 million packages every year. If you’re worried about what to do with your share of all that cardboard, here are a few ideas:

Recycle. This is one of the few items most communities will still allow in their recycling bins. Our city can only take metal food or drink cans, plastic bottles with necks, and corrugated cardboard.

Reuse. Did you know you can donate items in an old Amazon box? Visit GiveBackBox.com and print a free shipping label. Drop your filled box at any USPS or UPS. It will go directly to the nearest participating charity organization.

Repurpose. Get out the scissors and markers and get creative. Make a fort, a dollhouse, a kitty hideaway or a cardboard city. You can have more fun with boxes than with the stuff that came in them!

One More Stocking

I see her at least once or twice a week, but every time she visits it’s like she’s a different kid. At fourteen months and ten days, I guess that’s to be expected. At the moment she has red-gold hair, bright eyes and four sharp teeth – two on top and two on the bottom. She sings pretty much non-stop, just one song - Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. She rearranges my neatly alphabetized movie collection, helps herself to the dog food, pulls everything out of the under-the-counter kitchen cupboards, and threatens the Christmas tree. She’s getting good at scooting up and down the stairs, but I still hold my breath every time she does it. She likes to play my piano, especially the notes at the very bottom of the keyboard. She loves to grab my dogs by their beards and yell, “Woof!” at them. Amazingly, they don’t seem to mind. Maybe it’s because they know she’ll feed them whatever we’re trying to get her to eat.

Barn Raising

“Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.”

“Life is amazing. And then it's awful. And then it's amazing again. And in between the amazing and awful it's ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That's just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it's breathtakingly beautiful.”

“It's not our job to toughen our children up to face a cruel and heartless world. It's our job to raise children who will make the world a little less cruel and heartless.” – L. R. Knost

Red and Blue Cross

First, to put this into perspective, there are 17 million people living in the Netherlands, which has an area of about 17,000 square miles. That’s a little like cramming the population of the whole state of New York into Maryland. There just aren’t a lot of wide-open spaces. I’ve been following the story of the search for an abandoned Great Pyrenees mama outside Odgen for weeks now. It’s hard to imagine something like that happening in Holland. Still, it’s pretty impressive what the Dutch have accomplished. After a decades-long campaign of legislation and sterilization, the Netherlands is completely free of stray dogs. The Dutch are crazy about their pooches. They carry them about in baskets on their bikes. They let them ride public transportation, and their pets eat with them in restaurants. Dogs are pretty much welcome everywhere people are. The Dutch pony up for pet health insurance. If I was a dog, I’d sure want to live in Holland.

Thirty-Six Log Cabins

“I am the Christmas spirit! I enter the home of poverty, causing pale-faced children to open their eyes wide in pleased wonder. I cause the miser’s clutched hand to relax. I cause the aged to renew their youth and to laugh in the old, glad way. I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood, and brighten sleep with dreams woven of magic. I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways with filled baskets, leaving behind hearts amazed at the goodness of the world. I cause the prodigal to pause and send to anxious love some little token that releases glad tears. I enter dark prison cells, reminding scarred manhood of what might have been, and pointing forward to good days yet to be. In a thousand ways I cause the weary world to look up into the face of God, and for a little moment forget the things that are small and wretched. I am the Christmas spirit!” - E. C. Baird

Double Cross

“This is the spirit of Christmas – the spirit which I ask that we carry in our hearts – remembering the words of Marley’s ghost: ‘Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused! At this time of the rolling year I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode!’ May we learn a lesson from the pen of Dickens and from the words of Jesus Christ. May we lift our eyes heavenward and look upward and outward into the lives of others. May we remember this Christmas season that it is more blessed to give than to receive.” – President Thomas S. Monson

Hen House Stars

The next time I have one or more of the grandkids over, we’re making these. They’re a big hit and they’re almost completely foolproof.

Peanut Butter Haystacks

1 can (5 ounces) Chow Mein noodles (These are crunchy.)

1 cup creamy peanut butter (Check the ingredients. It should only say peanuts and salt.)

1 11-ounce bag butterscotch chips

1/2 cup peanuts (Salted or not. It’s up to you.)

Line baking sheet with parchment paper. In a double boiler over medium heat, melt butterscotch chips and peanut butter. Stir continuously, until completely melted. Remove from heat and add noodles and peanuts; stir gently until well coated. Drop spoonfuls of mixture onto baking sheet. Here’s the really hard part: cool completely. Serve with big glasses of milk.

Red and Blue New World

Ask anyone with a child in school and they’ll tell you: there’s too much homework. In spite of a dearth of evidence that more homework equals better academic achievement, the assignments keep escalating. One school in Ireland, at least, is taking a step back. For the entire month of December, none of the kids at Gaelscoil Mhíchíl Uí Choileáin, Clonakilty, Ireland (please don’t ask me to pronounce that) do any homework. Instead, they commit acts of kindness. Mondays are for reaching out to the elderly. Tuesdays they’ll help out at home without being asked. Wednesdays are for random acts of kindness of any kind. Thursdays are for nurturing mental and emotional well-being. The students keep track in kindness diaries, and excerpts are read aloud on Fridays. The school has been doing this sort of thing for three years running, and they report results of "overwhelming success and positivity."

Nine Gold Stars

Positive Things to Say to Your Child

You’re helpful.

You’re right.

You did your best.

I’m grateful for you.

You have great ideas.

I believe in you.

You’re important.

You make me proud.

You’re amazing.

I believe you.

You’re worth it.

Be yourself.

Be curious.

Everyone makes mistakes.

I understand you.

Our family wouldn’t be the same without you.

Let’s try it your way.

I appreciate you.

You did your best.

I forgive you.

I’m glad you’re here.

That was so brave.

I admire you.

It’s your decision.

Don’t give up.

You can say no.

Try again tomorrow.

Don’t compare yourself to anyone else.

You’re enough.

I trust you.

It’s okay to be scared.

You can fix this.

Being kind doesn’t make you weak.

Your ideas are great.

Anything’s possible.

You can make a difference.

I love how you said that.

I’m listening.

You did that so well.

Never stop trying.

You make my heart full.

I’ll always love you.

Brave New World

I suspect people have wished they could control the weather since the dawn of time. While the ability to do so deliberately still eludes us, there are several ways we as human beings inadvertently influence the weather. The centers of our largest cities are heat islands. Networks of pavement, concrete walls and tar roofs capture and radiate heat summer and winter. The crops we plant – especially corn – can raise the dewpoint for miles around. After harvest time the local humidity always plummets. Asphalt and concrete roads and parking lots don’t absorb water like the ground they’ve replaced; where there is more pavement, floods are more common and more extreme. Poorly planned cities can channel existing winds and amplify them. And while the global effect of greenhouse gases is apparently still up for debate, trapped pollution during a temperature inversion can make breathing here in our valley so much more difficult.

Four Gold Stars

In 2014 Viktor Usov was a medical student living in Portland, Oregon. Like so many other people, Viktor was in the habit of letting his fluffy black cat Sasha roam the neighborhood at night. Several of my own neighbors do this, even though it’s unsafe for the cats, for the neighbors’ gardens, and for the local songbirds. One morning Sasha simply didn’t come home. Viktor had to assume she’d had an unfortunate encounter with a car or a vicious dog. Fast forward to Thanksgiving week, this year. Viktor got a call from an animal shelter in Santa Fe, New Mexico. They’d picked up a healthy stray whose microchip led them to Viktor’s number. “When I got the call, I was ecstatic,” Viktor said, “but not that surprised. This cat loves adventure.” Sasha got a plane ride back to Viktor courtesy of American Airlines. There’s probably an amazing story behind her five-year, 1,400-mile escapade, but Sasha’s keeping it to herself.

Thirty-Two Log Cabins

“In order to receive forgiveness for our sins, we need to forgive others. Forgiving others allows us to overcome feelings of anger, bitterness, or revenge. And who wants to feel those feelings at Christmas? Forgiveness can also heal spiritual wounds and bring the peace and love that only God can give. At this Christmas season, let us all give the best gifts. Let us sacrifice with grateful hearts our favorite toys—not the ones we’ve worn out. And let us give the gift of love, the gift of service to those around us, and the true gift of forgiveness. For as we repent, the Holy One of Israel forgives us. I testify that He lives. He is the King of kings, the Prince of Peace, our Savior, our Redeemer, and our Friend.” – Cristina B. Franco

Gold Star

I like to serve a tossed salad with Sunday dinner, and more often than not my go-to is Caesar. In fact, it’s what I’m planning to accompany our Hawaiian Haystacks tomorrow night. Nearly everyone likes Caesar salad, as long as I skip the anchovies. Still, it can be a bit, well, boring. Maybe next week I should try something like this:

Easy Broccoli Salad

5 cups broccoli, cut into florets

1 apple, cored and diced

1 pear, cored and diced

1/4 cup red onion, finely chopped

1 cup cashews

1 cup dried cranberries

1/2 cup mayonnaise

1/2 cup Greek yogurt

2 tablespoons lemon juice

3 tablespoons honey

In a medium bowl, whisk together mayo and yogurt, then stir in lemon juice and honey. In a large bowl, combine broccoli florets, diced apple and pear, red onion, cashews and cranberries, and toss together to combine. Pour dressing over broccoli mixture, then toss until everything is evenly coated. Refrigerate at least half an hour before serving.

Thirty Log Cabins

Franz Kafka died of tuberculosis in 1924 at age 40. About a year before that he met a young girl who had lost her doll, Belinda, during an outing in the park. The novelist was unable to help her find the doll, but the following day he delivered a letter from Belinda. “I’m sorry to have left you,” the doll wrote, “so suddenly and without saying goodbye.” She explained that she desired to see more of the world. Soon other messages came from so many interesting places, detailing Belinda’s adventures abroad. Eventually Belinda returned to the girl, looking like a brand-new doll. As her last message explained, travel does change you. I should tell you this story has many versions, with different names for the doll and the girl; even different parks in different cities. And no one has produced any of the letters as proof of their authenticity. But true or not, it’s still an enchanting tale.  

Hen House Stars - Without Stars

The Christ Child wasn’t really born in winter, but I’m glad we celebrate His birth at this time. I think we need Christmas music and Christmas lights more when the days are short, dark and cold. Draper may not be Utah’s largest or most important city, but we do put on an impressive show at this time of year. We decorate several trees in our biggest park, but we cover our huge grandfather willow with over a thousand strands of golden-white lights. If you don’t mind paying to see the lights, there’s a great array at Hogle Zoo and an even better one in Ashton Gardens at Thanksgiving Point. You can enjoy the lights for free at Gardner Village or The Shops at Riverwoods. But the one display you won’t want to miss this Christmas is Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake. This is the last time the whole square will be lit until major renovations are finished in 2024.

Ballerina

“Our church sent around a questionnaire asking, ‘Why do you come to church?’ and I still haven’t filled it out. For one thing, I go because I read stories about declining church attendance and I hate to be part of a trend. For another, church is a sanctuary from thinking about myself, my work, my plans for the week, my problems with work, my lack of exercise, other people’s view of me, myself, and I, and frankly I’m sick of myself and so would you be if you were me. My mind drifts and my thoughts turn to various friends and relatives, and I pray for them. I pray for solace and sustenance in their times of trial and I ask God to surprise them with the gift of unreasonable joy. I pray for people caring for parents suffering from dementia or for children who are neurologically complicated. I pray for the whales, the migrating birds, the endangered elephants.” - Garrison Keillor

Milly's Favorite

Willie Murphy lives in Buffalo, New York. That alone should tell you she’s no one to mess with. Willie sounds a lot like Wanda Sykes, and she looks like she could be Wanda’s granny. Willie was getting ready for bed a week before Thanksgiving, when someone banged on her front door. He shouted that he needed an ambulance. Willie called 911, but she wouldn’t open the door. The fellow broke in, so Willie hit him. With a table. Then she poured shampoo in his face. When the police showed up, Willie was hitting the man with a broom. “I was whaling on that man,” she said. “If it’s my time to go, I’m taking him with me!” At first the police wouldn’t believe that Willie is 82 years old. She had to show them her I.D. They handcuffed the intruder, but before they took him to the hospital, they all wanted to take selfies with Willie.

Nine-Patch

“Our son Dan got very sick on his mission in Africa and was taken to a medical facility with limited resources. As we read his first letter to us after his illness, we expected that he would be discouraged, but instead he wrote, ‘Even as I lay in the emergency room, I felt peace. I have never been so consistently and resiliently happy in my life.’ As my wife and I read these words, we were overcome with emotion. Consistently and resiliently happy. We had never heard happiness described that way, but his words rang true. We knew that the happiness he described was not simply pleasure or an elevated mood but a peace and joy that come when we surrender ourselves to God and put our trust in Him in all things. We too had had those times in our lives when God spoke peace to our souls and caused us to have hope in Christ even when life was hard and uncertain.” – Elder L. Todd Budge

Rolling Star

Our new favorite library has a dragon suspended from the ceiling, and these quotes decorating the entrance:

“In a library we are surrounded by hundreds of dear friends imprisoned by an enchanter in paper and leathern boxes.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Books became her friends, and there was one for every mood.” – Betty Smith

“There is no friend as loyal as a book.” – Ernest Hemmingway

“The dearest ones of time, the strongest friends of the soul . . . books.” – Emily Dickinson

“When I didn’t have friends, I had books.” – Oprah Winfrey

“Next to acquiring good friends, the best acquisition is a good book.” – Charles Caleb Colton

“My best friend is a person who will give me a book I have not read.” – Abraham Lincoln

“He was fond of books, for they are cool and sure friends.” – Victor Hugo

“You can find friends between the pages of a book, wonderful friends.” – Cornelia Funke

Bewitched

I’m not a huge fan of peanut butter, but it does have its uses. It’s great for separating chewing gum from hair and for removing adhesives. It’s far better mouse trap bait than cheese. It can disguise the pill your dog doesn’t want to take (be sure it has no artificial sweetener). In a pinch, it substitutes for butter or WD-40. It can remove windshield bugs. It’s great in mole and satay sauce, and in this kid-friendly recipe:

Easy Peanut Butter Cookies

1 box yellow cake mix

1/3 cup water

1 1/3 cups peanut butter

1/3 cup butter, softened

1 egg

2 tablespoons sugar

Heat oven to 375F. In large bowl, beat half of the cake mix, the water, peanut butter, butter and eggs until smooth. Stir in remaining cake mix. On ungreased cookie sheet, drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls about 2 inches apart. Flatten in crisscross pattern with fork dipped in sugar. Bake about 10 minutes.

Homemade Pie

As the story goes, The Beatles were nearing the end of a 2-week tour that crisscrossed the US – it might have been 1965. They stopped at a little eatery in California where they found excellent pie. (I’ve never met a Brit who didn’t get really excited about a good pie.) Ringo was positively over the moon about it, and made a big deal about the restaurant in an interview afterwards. He had no idea Marie Callender’s was a chain, or that it got about as much respect here as Little Chef back home. There used to be a Marie Callender’s in Midvale (I believe there’s a steak house there now) where we would pick up pies for Thanksgiving and Christmas. All the remaining Utah Marie Callender’s closed months ago, when their parent company went bankrupt. The Millcreek location was reopened by popular demand last week, just in time for the holidays: another thing to be thankful for.

LeMoyne Star

I was staying with my family in upstate New York during the summer break in 1978. We went to church on Sunday – a tiny chapel that I’d help to build – and my mother introduced me to a tall young man who’d recently joined the congregation. We went roller skating, to a rock concert, and to a picnic in the park. Then John and his Ford Mustang left for BYU. He stopped to call (this was when long-distance phone calls cost real money) several times along the way. I remember my grandma saying, “Linda, I think that boy likes you.” We were married before the year was out. I like to joke that the only thing we had in common was the same wedding day. But we had very similar taste in books, music and movies. We still do. Tomorrow we’ll have been married forty years and eleven months. But today is his sixty-fifth birthday. Happy birthday, John!

Shoo-Fly

Two Sundays ago, Elder Neil Andersen spoke at our stake conference. I played the organ, so I had a bird’s eye view as the seats filled with people eager to hear an apostle speak. One of the topics he covered was a recent study about the rapid decline of Christianity in the US. It reminded me of a discussion I’d had on a quilting Thursday shortly after we’d moved to England. We were talking about how Mothering Sunday differs from Mother’s Day. Originally, Mothering Sunday was a day to revisit one’s “mother church,” the church where you were christened. I’d asked my fellow quilters about their mother churches. One had been converted into a series of flats, and another was now an Indian restaurant. A third had been torn down to make a car park. It’s sad, but all the more reason to find out what you really believe, and find courage to share your faith with others.

Another Flock

“The Savior finds joy in bringing to pass our immortality and eternal life. In speaking of the Savior’s Atonement, President Russell M. Nelson said: ‘As in all things, Jesus Christ is our ultimate exemplar, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross. Think of that! In order for Him to endure the most excruciating experience ever endured on earth, our Savior focused on joy! What was the joy that was set before Him? Surely it included the joy of cleansing, healing, and strengthening us; the joy of paying for the sins of all who would repent; the joy of making it possible for you and me to return home—clean and worthy—to live with our Heavenly Parents and families.’ Similarly, the joy set before us is the joy of assisting the Savior in His work of redemption. As the seed and children of Abraham, we participate in blessing all the families of the earth.” – Elder D. Todd Christofferson

Tiffany

Last month the Norman Central Public Library – which serves three counties in Oklahoma – posted on Facebook that they were ready to move from their old brown brick building to a shiny new edifice down the street. They asked for volunteers to help move books from their old shelves to the new ones. Over 650 readers of all ages showed up and made a human chain to span the quarter-mile distance between the two libraries. As the old saying goes, many hands make light work. The entire process took about 45 minutes. The library managed to capture the magic of the event by attaching a GoPro camera to a copy of Steven Kellog’s picture book “Chicken Little” as it was passed from hand to hand down the line. The resulting video is almost as fun as actually being there. You can find it on YouTube under the name of “Book Brigade: A Traveling Book Video.”

Twenty-five Log Cabins

This is just one reason why I love my kitchen shears.

Butterfly Chicken

1 5-pound chicken

4 garlic cloves, chopped

1 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons butter, softened

1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme

Juice and zest from 2 lemons, divided

3/4 teaspoon pepper, divided

8 ounces small potatoes, halved

8 ounces small carrots
8 ounces Brussels sprouts

Spatchcock the chicken. (Don’t know how? This is what Google and YouTube were made for!) Place breast up with wings tucked under on a rimmed baking pan. With the flat side of a knife, make a paste of the salt and garlic. Blend this with butter, thyme, zest, and pepper in a bowl. Set aside 2 tablespoons, then rub remaining garlic butter under the skin of breasts and thighs. Roast at 450F ten minutes. Reduce heat to 400F and tuck potatoes and carrots around chicken. Roast 20 minutes, then add Brussels sprouts and baste with reserved garlic butter. Roast 20 more minutes, then sprinkle with lemon juice and serve.

Georgetown Circle

Dinners on Thursday can be a bit of a struggle, primarily because Friday is my market day. I plan and shop for the whole week, but frequently some of the ingredients I need for Thursday dinner will go bad, go missing, or get used for something else. Two Thursdays back I found myself with three pork chops, a slice of stale bread, and not much else. We had this:

Thursday Night Pork Chops

3 boneless pork chops

1 cup bread crumbs

1 teaspoon seasoning salt

1 teaspoon paprika

1 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon oregano

1/2 teaspoon parsley

Fresh ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Combine bread crumbs and seasonings in a Ziploc bag. One at a time, place chops in the bag and shake to coat in the mixture. Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until cooked through.

Twenty Log Cabins

In the 70’s, the Osmond family sang for screaming fans on stages throughout the United Kingdom. Their happy, clean-cut image, when they were performing and when they weren’t, left a lasting impression on their audiences. When we lived in the UK nearly four decades later, we could still see ripples from those days. If we asked people how they came to be members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, they’d almost invariably say they once saw the Osmond family in concert – or their mums did. They’d laugh and blush when they said it, like happily married but embarrassed couples telling how they’d met on the Internet. It’s further proof that whoever you are, wherever you are, you’re serving as an example to everyone who sees you. You might be an example of what to do or what to avoid. The beautiful thing is every day you get to choose.

Signature

From the moment you were born, your death has walked beside you.

Though it seldom shows its face, you still feel its empty touch

when fear invades your life, or what your love is lost 

or inner damage is incurred...

Yet when destiny draws you into these spaces of poverty,

and your heart stays generous until some door opens into the light,

you are quietly befriending your death; so that you will have no need to fear

when your time comes to turn and leave,

That the silent presence of your death would call your life to attention,

wake you up to how scarce your time is and to the urgency to become free

and equal to the call of your destiny.

That you would gather yourself and decide carefully how you now can live

the life you would love to look back on from your deathbed.

-           John O'Donohue

Red Editor

Great power lies in learning who you really are. Please take time to think prayerfully about these facts:

•You are an elect son or daughter of God.

•You were created in His image.

•You were taught in the spirit world to prepare you for anything and everything you would encounter during this latter part of these latter days.

That teaching endures within you! Learn for yourselves who you really are. Ask your Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, how He feels about you and your mission here on earth. If you ask with real intent, over time the Spirit will whisper the life-changing truth to you. Record those impressions and review them often, and follow through with exactness. I promise you that when you begin to catch even a glimpse of how your Heavenly Father sees you and what He is counting on you to do for Him, your life will never be the same! - President Russell M. Nelson

Escapade

We don’t decorate until Thanksgiving dinner’s over, but my students and I have been practicing Christmas tunes since before Halloween. You have to do that if you want to sound good in time. Likewise, good holiday dishes don’t just happen – they take planning. So, I’m sticking this here:

Candy Cane Pie

24 large marshmallows

1/2 cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/8 teaspoon salt

6 drops peppermint extract

6 drops red food coloring

2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon crushed peppermint candy, divided

1 cup heavy whipping cream, whipped, plus more for garnish

1 chocolate crumb crust (8 inches)

In a heavy saucepan, combine marshmallows and milk over low heat. Cook and stir until marshmallows are melted. Remove from heat. Stir in vanilla, salt, peppermint extract and food coloring. Cool 30 minutes, stirring several times. Fold in 2 tablespoons crushed candies and whipped cream. Spoon into crust. Cover and chill overnight. When serving, top each wedge with more whipped cream and sprinkle with remaining candy.

Our Editor

When I run across an article about children or pets being removed from an “unsuitable” home, I find it’s almost always accompanied by a disgusting photo of the inside of the refrigerator. Maybe the interior of the fridge is an indicator – like a canary in a coal mine – of how well the householder is or isn’t doing. Pictures like this always leave me with an irresistible urge to clean out my own fridge. November fifteen is Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day. Some years it falls about a week before Thanksgiving, and some (like this year) it’s a bit more. It’s an excellent time to remember to remove everything, wipe the walls, drawers and shelves, and then only put back what you KNOW is safe to eat. Stick a fresh box of baking soda in the back, just for good measure. Voilà! You’re ready for whatever the holidays can throw at you. Or at least your fridge is.

Mexican Rose

The Mexican-American War ended in February 1848 with the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. It added 525,000 square miles to United States territory, including all or parts of present-day Arizona, California, Colorado, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming. Some of my ancestors came here the summer before that, fleeing religious persecution in the States, only to find the U.S. and the persecution followed them here. The First Amendment that should have protected them didn’t. (If you’re bored or curious, you might look up the Edmunds-Tucker Act of 1887, and then try to picture something like that being applied to Catholics, Muslims or Jews.) Some – including my great-grandfather, his second wife and their young sons  – fled to Mexico. Again. So, when I read the news coming from south of the border, it feels somehow personal. I don’t think building a wall can fix this. I don’t know what can. But I find myself wishing I did.

Red and Blue Flock

Kate Howard was sitting outside her new home on an early autumn afternoon, when a woman walked by with a pit bull. The dog took one look at Kate, sat down on her lawn and refused to move. “All dogs are perfect,” Kate said, “But she was particularly charming.” The dog’s owner was trying to get her rolling again but she was staying put. She called to her, “Winnie, come on!” Last Thanksgiving, Kate had fostered a soft wiggly baby puppy she named Winnie. “I cried for three days after she went up for adoption, worrying about whether she’d find a good home. I just moved into this house a couple months ago, and it turns out I’m only a block away from Winnie! It was beyond comforting for my first foster dog to turn up on my front lawn, her fur still soft and her ear still crooked and her tail still wagging.”

Night Music

I first heard of Marti Michell and her “Perfect Patchwork” template system a decade ago. Many of my quilting friends had signed up for classes or bought kits to make her American Beauty quilt. They either learned to love her tools and methods or to hate everything about them. It’s easy to see both sides. Marti’s templates are far from foolproof. If you have relaxed rotary cutter habits or your seam allowance isn’t laser-precise, there will be no end to your frustration. On the other hand, if you follow her directions to the letter the finished product is sure to be dazzling. I made the twelve 7-patch American Beauty blocks the winter of 2010-2011. They were among the first blocks to appear in this blog. I recently came into possession of a partly-finished American Beauty kit, so I’m making several of these lovely blocks again, almost ten years later. With a little luck, they may someday become a wedding quilt.

Flock of Geese

“The hymn ‘More Holiness Give Me’ suggests a way to pray for help in becoming more holy. The author wisely suggests that the holiness we seek is a gift from a loving God, granted over time, after all we can do. You remember the last verse:

More purity give me, More strength to o’ercome,

More freedom from earth-stains, More longing for home.

More fit for the kingdom, More used would I be,

More blessed and holy— More, Savior, like thee.

Whatever our personal circumstance, wherever we may be on the covenant path home, may our prayers for greater holiness be answered. I know that as our petition is granted, our happiness will increase. It may come slowly, but it will come. I have that assurance from a loving Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ.” – President Henry B. Eyring

Friendship Star

Marcia Snyder, a widow from New York, was waiting at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport in July 2018 when she noticed her gold bracelet was missing. She and her son, Gary, searched for it but were unable to find it before they had to board their plane. Its loss was particularly distressing because on the bracelet were her husband’s class ring and charms engraved with her children’s first names. The bracelet was found by Penny Sands, a Californian walking through the concourse to catch her own flight home. Penny and her husband tried unsuccessfully to find the bracelet’s owner. This October they studied the class ring under a better magnifying glass and read “Williamsville” and the initials “RWS.” That led them to an online yearbook from 1955 which revealed Marcia’s husband’s name, Robert Willis Snyder. Robert’s obituary was also online, with a phone number for his funeral home. Marcia was finally reunited with her bracelet after fifteen months apart.

Sixteen Log Cabins

Ruth and Tom Roy are the creators of more than seventy copyrighted “holidays.” Today’s one of my favorites: Cook Something Bold Day. This might be just the day to let a pot of marinara gently simmer for hours, filling the house with the aroma of tomatoes, garlic, basil and oregano. You might bake a pizza with something beyond run-of-the-mill toppings like bacon and pickle, barbecue chicken or ham and eggs. I'm thinking of loading the slow cooker with chicken, cannelloni beans, chicken broth, cayenne and cumin. In a few hours, you’ll able to smell my white chili cooking as you walk in the front door. If you can’t tell by now, I’m more than a little jealous of Tom and Ruth. I only have one holiday to my name, and only a handful of people even know about it. I’ve no idea how to copyright a holiday. I suspect it requires a greater capacity for self-promotion than I possess; more boldness.

Abrecadabra

Here’s another story about a lost book that found its way home: Friday, October 19, an overdue book was returned to the Osterhout Free Library in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. “So Build We,” a book about nursing by Mary S. Gardner, R.N. was due December 17, 1948. Who checked the book out? The woman who returned it had discovered it while cleaning a home that had belonged to her deceased spouse. A library card belonging to Josephine Murphy was found inside the book. The library contacted her, hoping to solve the mystery. “I don’t remember,” she replied. “But of course, there’s a lot of things I don’t remember. I’m 91.” Murphy worked as a nurse for fifty years. Family members suspect the book was checked out by Ann Donahue, Murphy's late cousin – also a nurse and a former resident of the home where it was found. The library reports that the 2-cent-per-day late fee would have come to $517.42.

Thirteen Log Cabins

When Zoe Andrews and her little sister Hannah were children, one of their favorite possessions was a hard-bound copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “The Secret Garden.” They even scribbled in the margins. But little girls grow up and outgrow girlish things. Eventually the book was donated to the local Oxfam charity shop. Twenty-five years later, Zoe was browsing through books in the second-hand store at The Museum of English Rural Life in Reading, England. She came across a “The Secret Garden.” “As I held it, I just felt like it was my old copy,” Zoe says. “It’s hard to explain—and probably sounds a bit naff—but it just did.” Inside was her own handwriting, including Hannah’s name. “It’s a very bizarre feeling to find something you loved as a child and to think of its journey. How many other children owned and read that book? Did they wonder who Hannah was?” Zoe bought it, of course, for fifty pence.

Mother's Choice

Today is Election Day where I live, but I turned in my ballot more than a week ago. This year’s choices were rather disappointing. I’d hoped to vote for the one fellow running for a seat on the city council who wasn’t white and wealthy. But he was disqualified early on for being one minute late filing a campaign finance disclosure form. One minute late, in an office whose clocks were set three minutes fast. After that, I wasn’t sure who should get my vote, until one of the candidates showed up at my door. He asked about my concerns and actually listened as I told him. He shook my hand, looked me in the eye and told me he wasn’t taking any money from big developers. That impressed me, as I know he had 49,999 other voters to visit – about five times as many as when we first moved here.