Fall in Missouri

A Trunk Full of Fun

Many years ago, when my children were young and sometimes bored on rainy Saturdays, an elderly lady in our church gave them a little suitcase full of old hats, ties, scarves, and jewels. It was an old suitcase, much repaired and spray painted a dull brown, but it served its purpose and more, making an appearance twice a year during junior high and high school dress-up days, and occasionally even being used as a play prop.

This fall, I decided that the time had come to pass it on to the next generation. When I dragged it from the attic, I realized that the 115 degree temperatures and dry conditions we had this summer had taken their toll. It was in need of glue, lots of glue, and paint--preferably gold and sparkly. So I painted. Claye and I searched for the smallest costumes, and we took it to Missouri, stuffed and sturdy.

When we arrived, it was two days before Halloween. Zaya and Mim weren't going trick-or treating, but they had a little party to attend, and had already planned costumes for that. Zaya was going as a black hole. His mom had painted a black sweatshirt with "glow in the dark" planets, the USS Enterprise, a Looney Tunes rocket, the death star, and some Ty fighters all being drawn into the swirling center of Zaya's stomach. He donned black hat, pants, shoes, and gloves and went around saying "Fear Me!". Occasionally he would grab something or someone and say "Schluck" as he pulled them toward the void.

Mim went as the more traditional Princess--Princess Leia, in keeping with the space theme. She suffered from wig-itchiness, though, and wasn't quite as brave as the real Princess would have been...well, maybe not. Star Wars never had itchy wig adversaries. Maybe she would have caved too, especially since her father wouldn't have helped by putting mole-skin on her ears and cheering her tears away.











The next morning we opened the trunk again, and the grandkids played "Newsies".

Zaya ran around yelling, "Pape, Mum, buy a pape?" and Mim played two roles: the office supplier and money collector, and the wealthy client who not only bought a pape, but adopted the poor little paper boy and took him into her home...

where she entertained him by being a royal jester.

Hours of fun in a little suitcase.

Little Women-the Play

Our senior class is performing Little Women  tomorrow night. Somehow it fit the size of the class, and just seemed like the right one to do.

It's good to be reminded of that time, not so terribly long ago, when America was going through different struggles than the ones we face today. Civil war. Poverty. Sickness. No antibiotics. Wood fires. Oil lamps. All so different. But the people are still the same. Some complain. Others accept. Some rage and others sing. There is a peace in knowing the values that remain for all times, in understanding comfort from the same hand of God.

Japanese Dish Soap

I'll put the moral first this time: Don't try two strange new products at the same time.

Especially if one is supposed to be edible and the other isn't.
I don't know how my new, flowery-scented Gain dish detergent got into the vegetable pan on the counter. I do know that it is nearly invisible, and that it didn't catch my attention at all as I added the bag of new "Japanese" vegetables and turned on the heat.
"What's that smell?" asked Claye, as she came in and began to ice the glasses.
"Japanese vegetables. I think they must have some kind of crop over there that we don't eat here," I replied, "Still, Asian food is supposed to be healthier so I suppose it can't hurt."

She looked at the package. "Hmm. There's nothing Asian about these vegetables. There all American."
I was a little defensive. After all, I was the cook here. "I'm sure they've put some kind of flowery spice in them. Don't Asians use flowers to scent their food?"

She was hesitant, "Well yes."
"Ok. We'll try it."
So we served it along with lunch.

I ate one bite and dumped the rest down the disposal. Too bad if I'm not open to foreign foods.
Claye ate a little more, not because she is of an accepting nature, but she was willing to make an exception for Japanese cuisine, because she likes Japanese art and music.

Turtle ate all of his, because he is the man of the house and has to be the leader in courageous acts, and because he "actually enjoys trying new foods of all cultures".

Still, we kept talking about it, puzzling over the strange tastes of other peoples. Then we read the label on the vegetable package and found nothing unusual--no "other spices", not even "foreign flavorings".

It was then, that my brain finally started working properly and I grabbed up the new bottle of detergent.
Sure enough. Same pungent smell. Flowery. Soapy.
I think even the Japanese would have spit it out!

I Can't Think of Anything but Chicken Fried Steak

Why?
Well because the cafeteria served it for lunch today--the real deal, not some pre-fried soy substitute. I'm sure they had all the trimmings as well--mashed potatoes, cream gravy and a vegetable and maybe even dessert. Normally I can ignore lunch, hide out in my room and eat a package of tuna or a teaspoon of peanut butter substitute. Normally, it's easy to stay on my diet. Today they chicken fried that steak. Its aroma filled the halls. Its aroma still fills the halls. I'm hungry. Next hour the lesson is about Jonah and that large fish. I hate fish. Why didn't the prophets use a chicken fried steak example? On second thought, why didn't I say: "Oh forget the diet!" and go eat chicken-fried steak?