The library

I love the library. I have always loved the library.

Let me back up. I should not be writing right now. I have places to go, things to do. My children want blueberry pancakes, because they never eat enough breakfast. I have no time for writing right now.

But it's been so long, and I've so wanted to write. So I'm throwing caution and time management to the wind. Besides, I happen to know that the two adults who will be waiting on me if I'm late would really like to see a fresh post on this here blog. In fact, they've probably long ago given up hope that I will ever type another line again.

On we go.

The pictures on this post do not come from the library I'm writing about. I didn't take a single picture, although I wanted to. But there were so many exciting things to do, that I didn't get a chance.

There are two library branches in our town: South Branch and Main Branch. I've almost always gone to the Main Branch, especially in the last ten years or so. But then my good friend Edie told me how wonderful the recently-remodeled (ahem, as in ten year ago) South Branch is. So last week when rain seemed imminent, I packed up the children and headed off to investigate. But I was a little skeptical that anything could surpass my own Beloved Main Branch.

I must say, in general, that I would probably love any library. The shelves and shelves of books, the quiet tables, the children's section. But my Beloved Main Branch has that special smell. Do you know what I'm talking about? Maybe it's just me. I know I'm extremely scent oriented. I especially love the smell of their elevator.

So when I entered the South Branch, I knew that none of those special smells would be there, and I assumed that this would stunt my experience. But then I saw the gleaming wooden shelves, the brilliant organization (which I'm also a sucker for), and the children's section. There was a tree in the children's section. A TREE. (Yes, it was pretend. But it reached the ceiling and looked real.) And a two-level clubhouse that had built in bookshelves, cushions for reclining on, and an observation deck. I never wanted to leave. Oh yeah, and the kids loved it too.

The windows of this library (and I'm guessing, the light fixtures as well) had been inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright, and did a fabulous job of bringing the outside in (that's a Country Living term: "bring the outside in." I'm practicing to be a caption writer for that magazine. Or maybe Better Homes and Gardens.) And unlike my Beloved Main Branch, this library was surrounded by grass, trees, and sky. Not buildings and streets. It was enchanting. Did I mention I never wanted to leave?

There was even a Snack Zone, which seemed so amazingly rebellious to me, because at my Beloved Main Branch, you were never allowed to enter the library with so much as a stick of gum. Cokes were right out. To have an actual Snack Zone (yes, I understand the importance of protecting books from snacks. Yes, I know how many parenthesis I've been using. Yes, and italics. I feel strongly about libraries.) seemed so progressive, so too-good-to-be-true. Because really, is there any better combination than books and food?

Time is getting away from me, just like it did there. The kids have eaten their pancakes and now need to be dressed.

All right, I think I'll end this renegade post with another plug for the dreamy children's book The Library, by Sarah Stewart. All of her books are somewhat magical, but this one is my absolute favorite. Even adults like having it read to them. Go check it out today.

Nelleigh's Room

I have this adorable teenage friend named Nelleigh. She has the coolest room. She picked the boldest, most glam color of purple for her walls, henceforth renamed Audrey Eggplant (nod to hannaH).

A while back, Nelleigh gave me permission to pretend I was a photographer from Better Homes and Gardens (or Country Living, if that's more your style--yeehaw!) and snap away at her stunning digs.

Black and white photographs pop against the bold wall color while the hydrangeas keep everything balanced.

Her shoes match her room, and incidentally, bridge the gap between playful girl and sophisticated young woman.


Another brief glimpse at the little girl lingering within...

More clean white adds freshness and pop.

Can anyone else feel the love of all things Paris?

Other than the thrilling purple walls, one of my favorite parts of her room is her converted closet. The inside walls have been painted with chalkboard paint and filled with personal chalk inscriptions:

Behind her bedroom door, her necklaces multitask: organization meets decor. Ah now, here's a girl after me own heart.

A curved mirror tops off her antique dresser, both of them helping to balance all the white accents. Near her ceiling are painted Bible verses, keeping them within sight at all times. I love the way the pink paint of yesteryear is allowed to seep through and create a perfect vintage patina. Love.it.

A glowing Eiffel Tower and some white Christmas lights create an ethereal atmosphere.

Ah Nelleigh, thank you dear, for letting us peek into your room. I know that I'll be back whenever I need a little aesthetic refreshment.

"Paris is always a good idea." ~Audrey Hepburn

Songs of Joy

During my recent unplanned absence from the blog world, I can assure you that I haven't been doing this:

Not too much of this either:

What in the world have I been doing, you ask?

Well, it is true that I received a trip to a masseuse as an ultra-early Mother's Day gift from my amazing mom. But other than that, I've mostly been weathering an Indiana winter with four children who are alternately whiny, sick, fighting, stricken with cabin fever, whiny, sick, disruptive, messy, and whiny.

The last couple of weeks have been somewhat rejuvenating, even though we've weathered two more bouts of sickness. The days have been getting just warm enough for Matt to work in the yard this week, which has allowed the kids run off a smidgen of five months of steam, which has allowed me to actually devote a bit of attention to housework, which has in turn given me the energy and clearer head I need to return to writing.

I also just finished Beth Moore's Psalms of Ascent bible study, which has filled me with fresh inspiration. This study has given my hearts wings and spurred me on to love God with a passion and dearness that I've not experienced towards Him before. I feel like my eyes have been opened a little more to see evidences of the deep love He has for me. He is so tender and patient.

Ending a bible study is always so hard for me...the daily journey in that particular segment of Scripture is over. But this study feels different because it has driven home to me that this Christian road I walk is all about pilgrimage and that I have both travelling companions and a Protector along the way. I know I'm better equipped than I was before.

"I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship." ~Louisa May Alcott

Psalm 126

A song of ascents.

¹ When the LORD brought back the captives to Zion,
we were like men who dreamed.

² Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations,
"The LORD has done great things for them."

³ The LORD has done great things for us,
and we are filled with joy.

⁴ Restore our fortunes, O LORD,
like streams in the Negev.

⁵ Those who sow in tears
will reap with songs of joy.

⁶ He who goes out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with him.

When snow falls, nature listens. ~Antoinette van Kleeff

And now, just so I don't look back in the hazy heat of summer and wish I'd appreciated the snow when I had it...

Brew me a cup for a winter's night.

For the wind howls loud and the furies fight;
Spice it with love and stir it with care,
And I'll toast our bright eyes,
my sweetheart fair.
~Minna Thomas Antrim

Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,
And we, we were children once again.
~Bill Morgan, Jr. (No, that's not my house. Yes, I wish is was. Yes, it would be too small.)

In winter, when the world is simplified, the subtler and humbler beauties can appear to us...Red holly berries, or rose hips on their dry canes...Even a blue jay stands out. The simplicity and starkness of a winter scene bring to our attention creatures we overlook in other seasons. The beauty of such small and humble things is an especially important expression of holiness for us, who are so easily impressed by size and ostentation. ~David Rensberger (No, that's not a blue jay. No, I'm not color blind. I live in Indiana, so I'm representin' with a cardinal.)

When the bold branches
Bid farewell to rainbow leaves -
Welcome wool sweaters.
~B. Cybrill

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 the time for home. ~Edith Sitwell (No, I don't have a fireplace. Yes, I dearly wish I did. It's a long held dream of mine to get to frequently use a fireplace. Sigh...)

There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you.... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself. ~Ruth Stout (Quiet stretches? Maybe she doesn't have children. Maybe I should go to the country.)

Have a lovely winter day!

Dear beautiful Spring weather, I miss you. Was it something I said? ~Kim Corbin

While not a new & original sentiment, these are the thoughts that have been teasing me for the past week or so...

I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden. ~Ruth Stout

It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! ~Mark Twain

Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair... ~Susan Polis Shutz

I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck. ~Emma Goldman

Flowers really do intoxicate me. ~Vita Sackville-West

Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves. ~James Barrie

To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat. ~Beverly Nichols

The really nice breezes blow through my body and into my soul. ~Astrid Alauda

Of course, those open windows don't have quite the same effect in mid-January. But ten or fifteen minutes at a time can do wonders for relieving that trapped-in-the-house feeling.

How to Soothe a Baby...

...When you're:

4 years old-- Scrunch up face and sing-song 3 inches from baby's face "heeeyyy, babybabybabybaby! It's okay, it's okay, it's okay!"

8 years old-- Insist that you're old enough to comfort the baby. Gaining possession of said baby, bounce her like a rag doll. Upon receiving further instruction, proceed to bounce baby stiffly, while trying to support her head.

12 years old-- Call out "Mom, can you get the baby to quit crying? I'm on the phone!"

16 years old-- Walk bawling baby hopelessly through the house, hoping the pay is worth this.

20 years old-- Mutter something about how cute she is and hand baby hastily back to her mother.

24 years old-- Bounce her stiffly while trying to support her head and wondering if she can wait to nurse until you get home

28 years old-- Bounce baby expertly, while swaying, swooping and talking on the phone to your sister.

32 years old-- Hand her to your older child and instruct her in the art of head-holding whilst bouncing. ...Rescue baby and resume bouncing expertly while cooking dinner.

36 years old-- Demonstrate how to properly bounce a wailing baby, then hand her back to her mother.

40 years old-- Become oblivious to everything but the fact that your teenager is using her newest electrical device in the church service.

44 years old-- Grin at all the wailing babies you come across, thinking wistfully of when your kids were babies.

48 years old-- Start hoping for grandchildren to bounce.


This is based loosely on my own time line. I started kinda young... I was thrilled to share my bouncing skills with another (even younger!) mama this morning. It obviously got me thinking.

Persimmon Pudding: The foodstuff of Legend

In order to teach you how to make persimmon pudding, you must first be given the answer to this all important question: When are persimmons ripe?

I started my quest with this seemingly simple question several weeks ago. Little did I know what an epic experience it would become. My Aunt Gail, who has been quoted without permission, wrote me a useful, albeit avant-garde answer:

"They are ripe when they are puddles of orange goop that can be scraped up off of the ground. haha. How I get ripe persimmons is by first picking up the ones on the ground that look good. They will be soft. Then, like Steve said, give the tree a gentle shake. If it is a big tree, one can throw sticks at the branches and that will knock off the ripe persimmons (Mom and I did that on the Mville courthouse lawn with Auntie Carol. I think Carol was a bit embarrassed...). You can also pick them. If they practically fall off in your hand they are ripe. Of course, tasting is a good way too. Just squish one a bit and touch it to your tongue. It may have a bit of a bite but overall should taste sweet. If your tongue shrivels up, it is not ripe!"

Because I know this post is gonna be as epic as my persimmon experience has been, I'll go ahead and include the wiki information, which is less avant-garde, and less useful:

"Commercially, there are generally two types of persimmon fruit: astringent and non-astringent.

The heart-shaped Hachiya is the most common variety of astringent persimmon. Astringent persimmons contain very high levels of soluble tannins and are unpalatable if eaten before softening. The astringency of tannins is removed through ripening by exposure to light over several days, wrapping the fruit in paper... This bletting process is sometimes jump-started by exposing the fruit to cold or frost which hastens cellular wall breakdown...

The non-astringent persimmon is squat like a tomato and is most commonly sold as fuyu. Non-astringent persimmons are not actually free of tannins as the term suggests, but rather are far less astringent before ripening, and lose more of their tannic quality sooner. Non-astringent persimmons may be consumed when still very firm to very very soft."

These are Fuyu persimmons. These are not the kind I used for most of my pudding. I used Hachiya persimmons, but I forgot to take pictures of them. They are the same color, only slightly smaller and more pointy at the end. I had to wait for a long, long time for them to get soft and ripe enough to use. Poor Edie burned her throat when she took a bite of one before it was ripe. When they're ripe, they feel like water balloons. Don't try taking a bite unless they seem to be in imminent danger of bursting. The Fuyu persimmons aren't dangerous, but they are harder to pulp properly.

This is persimmon pulp. 2 cups of Hachiya persimmon pulp. Some purists will say you must take off all the skin and take out all the seeds before pulping persimmons in the blender or a food processor. I think I took off most of the skin and took out...mmm...probably all of the seeds. But it was easy. They're very soft and squishy.

I mixed the pulp together with a bunch of flour, milk, sugar and a couple of eggs. I tossed in some baking soda, baking powder, and spices. I mixed it. I thought I could avoid having to wash my beaters and just whisk it by hand...but I ended up having to wash my beaters and my whisk. Dang.

Uh, I should probably mention that once everything was all mixed up, it looked really gross. Really. The picture doesn't really do the grossness justice. Just warning you.

Alas, I poured the cake-like mixture/goop into an ungreased 9 x 13 baking dish and sprinkled nutmeg on top because I'm a nutmeg freak. It's true.

Then the waiting began. 70 minutes. SEVENTY minutes. This was gonna be a long wait...


So I decided to have a little breakfast while I waited...

But that didn't take very long. Not nearly long enough. So I turned my attention to my tea cupboard.

I know. It's a crying shame, everything all stuffed in there. I stumbled across my newest hot chocolate experiment. You should really try it. The dark chocolate version will change your life in a good way.

Ahhh...that's much better. Everything's back in order. What's that? You're wondering why I only have three teacups to drink all that tea and hot chocolate with? Don't worry. The rest of them are right overhead.



Yes, I did arrange them for the picture. Yes, you can get your own adorable snowman mug at Dollar General for a sweet buck.What that's you say? You're getting bored waiting for the persimmon pudding to finish baking? Yeah, you and me both. Okay, we'll zoom to the end.

Oh, it's a good thing. Make absolutely sure you have your whipped cream at the ready, as this stuff just doesn't taste complete without it. You might also want to put some on top of your hot chocolate.

By the way, "pudding" is a HUGE misnomer, unless you're British and accustomed to figgy pudding, bread pudding, and the like.

Yes, I know you're all clamoring for the recipe. I will generously include both the recipe I used and the one my grandmother used when I was growing up. Make sure you don't cover your persimmon pudding with any kind of air-tight plastic wrap or it will get really gooey on the bottom. It's still good that way, but I thought I'd warn y'all in case gooey is not what you're going for.

• Ripe persimmons (enough to make 2 cups of persimmon pulp)
• 3 cups milk
• 2 cups sugar
• 2 eggs
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda

• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• Dash of cinnamon
• 1/2 cup chopped nuts (optional)
• Whipped cream

X Instructions

1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Remove the skin and seeds from the persimmons and puree the pulp in a blender or food processor. In a large bowl, combine the pulp, milk, sugar, eggs, flour, baking soda, baking powder, vanilla extract, and cinnamon until well mixed. Stir in the chopped nuts, if desired. Pour the mixture into an ungreased 9- by 13-inch baking pan and bake for 70 minutes or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Serve warm with whipped cream. Serves 8.

Grandma Inman's Persimmon Pudding:

1 cup persimmon pulp
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
1 cup milk
3 eggs
3 heaping teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup melted margarine
spices:
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground cloves
1/8 tsp ginger
1/8 tsp all spice
1/2 tsp cinnamon
(note from Grandma)
If you don't have all the spices, you probably won't know the difference.

Mix, then bake-- 9 x 9 pan -- 1 hour @ 375

Serve with whipped cream.