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.

Four Ladies' Sashays

“If you are constantly surrounded by a mist of darkness, turn to Heavenly Father. Nothing that you have experienced can change the eternal truth that you are His child and that He loves you. Remember that Christ is your Savior and Redeemer, and God is your Father. They understand. Picture Them close by you, listening and offering support. They will console you in your afflictions. Do all you can, and trust in the Lord’s atoning grace. Your struggles do not define you, but they can refine you. Because of a thorn in the flesh, you may have the ability to feel more compassion toward others. As guided by the Holy Ghost, share your story in order to succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.” – Reyna I. Aburto

Boys' Nonsense

Premier Inn is a British hotel chain. As the United Kingdom's largest hotel brand, it boasts more than 72,000 rooms and 800 hotels. As a way to celebrate the release of what they’re calling “the best pillow ever,” Premier Inn is hosting Pillow Fight Club events in modified hotel rooms across the UK including Edinburgh, Cardiff and Bristol. No, they aren’t encouraging battling it out with the new pillows. Rather, they’re finding a creative use for the 300,000 old pillows that have been replaced. Sarah Simpson, head of product at Premier Inn, says: “Pillow fights are one of the few childhood sports people can take through to adulthood and still be good at.” There are eight simple rules to remember in Pillow Fight Club, like “The floor is never lava” and “If this is your first fight, grab a pillow – you have to fight.” I’m not really sure if one of the rules is “Don’t talk about Pillow Fight Club.”

Four Waring Square Blocks

When my children were in grade school, we lived just over half a mile from the school – about a fifteen-minute walk in good weather. This particular day I drove the kids instead of walking with them. As I dropped them off the fourth-grader said, “Today’s root beer float day. I’m supposed to bring bendy straws.” The nearest store, Frank’s Food Town, was a Quonset hut another half-mile down the road. He did carry bendy straws. Somehow, he knew where they were in his confused jumble of merchandise. The Quonset hut is still there – well disguised – though Frank has been gone for decades. It’s been a realtor’s office, a dentistry, and a bike shop. Even the road between the school and the store is gone. That fourth-grader has a boy in kindergarten a few blocks away. His parents get to scramble to make sure he’s ready for school every morning. The more things change, the more they stay the same.