Monday thoughts . . .

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"The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt within the heart."
~Helen Keller

Who knows what a blind person sees of cherry blossoms or songbirds . . . who knows what any of us sees from the privacy of our own personal blindness . . .

You may stand aghast and say to yourself . . . "I am not blind!" . . . but think about it. Each of us carries a blind perspective of certain things . . . just as each of us carries with us a unique seeing perspective of other things.

Fear can blind each of us.

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The person who is afraid of heights will never see the beauty of a canyon floor from above, or the beauty of cotton boll clouds from the window of an airplane as it soars through the sky. A person who is afraid of spiders can never appreciate the beauty or splendor of the woven web. If you fear small places . . . you are blind to the secrets of sudden solitude. Fear of passion might make one blind to the comfort and joy of oneness. Fear of change blinds us to the abundance of life and all that it holds. Fear of death . . . might prevent us from embracing the unknown and the power of faith . . . the act of trusting an unknown future to an all-knowing God.

Being afraid is completely human . . . and so to be blinded in this way is a part of the human experience that we cannot hope to avoid. It is the one thing we must, each of us . . . struggle to overcome. In the course of our lives, we all stumble and struggle repeatedly. In and out of relationships . . . with being or not being . . . with peace and disquietude . . . with sorrow and with joy . . .

There is an opposition in all things. As we pass through life, stumbling in and out of the grace of the wholeness of our lives . . . would it not be better to reach out to one another and admit our fear . . . admit to our blindness?

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A blind child
guided by his mother,
admires the cherry blossoms . . .
~kikaou

I think one of the things in this life that we are most afraid of . . . is allowing ourselves the luxury of becoming close enough to another human being that our very heart can be held in their hands . . . experiencing a oneness with each other that can only come from complete and utter abandonment of self . . . and allowing another to guide us through our fear . . . and in turn guiding them through theirs . . . by taking turns being the blind child, the loving guide . . . and the blossoms that others can't see . . . never knowing that which we are called to be . . . until we have learned what we have been called to learn. The art of seeing with the heart.

Does this make sense??? Or is it only prattle . . . I don't know. I only know it's what's on my mind this morning. Of course . . . we could always just . . . Let Go . . . Let God . . .

"Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body more than raiment?
Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?"
~Matthew 6:25-26

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Gas works again today people. No heat all day, but we have kept the heat on all night so that the house is toasty warm and hopefully will hold some of that heat through the day. fingers crossed!

One thing that is good for when you are feeling cold is a nice heart warming soup! This is a quick and easy recipe. It makes rather a lot, but it also freezes beautifully, so no worries!



*Quick Beef, Vegetable and Barley Soup*Serves 8
Printable Recipe

Delicious and filling. The perfect warm me up for a cold winter's day!

1 pound extra lean ground beef
2 medium onions, peeled and chopped
2 cups shredded cabbage
2 stalks celery, thinly sliced
3/4 cup uncooked, quick cooking barley
1/2 pound of frozen mixed vegetables
5 cups of stewed tomatoes, undrained
8 cups beef broth
1 TBS Worcestershire sauce
3/4 tsp seasoned salt
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/4 tsp dried thyme leaves

Spray a non stick dutch oven with some cooking spray and then brown the beef in it, over medium high heat, until the beef is thoroughly cooked, stirring frequently. Drain off any fat that may accumulate, however if you are using the extra lean beef, there should not be any.

Stir in the onions and celery and continue to cook, stirring occasionally until the onion and celery are beginning to wilt, but have not coloured. Add the remaining ingredients. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat to medium low and cover. Cook for 20 to 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are all tender and the barley is cooked.

Serve, ladled out into heated bowls, along with some crusty bread. Delicious!



Cooking in The English Kitchen today, delicious Lemon and Poppy Seed Drop Scones!

Winter memories . . .

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One of the things I really loved to do as a child in the Winter time was to play out in the snow. We spent 6 years in Manitoba, living in a small town next to Lake Winnipeg, called Gimli, and it was very cold there in the Winter, with lots and lots of snow . . . but I can't remember ever feeling the cold. Perhaps children do not feel the cold like adults do . . . I am sure it was often -27*C or -30*C or even colder . . . with any wind chill added, that would have been very cold indeed. Our breath would puff around in the air about our heads like little chilly frozen winter clouds . . .

I do remember being bundled up within an inch of my life though, so much so that it was a wonder that I could move about with any freedom at all. There would be the ski pants, which were thick and insulated . . . the lining quilted and filled with stuffing of some sorts, probably wool . . . a thick wool coat, also lined with a quilted and stuffed lining. A thick wool cap with ear coverings would be on my head and a wool scarf would be wound about my neck and face . . . on really cold days only my eyes would be exposed, because . . . well, you needed to be able to see where you were going. I would have on my wool stockings (of course) and several pairs of socks and shoes and then my feet would be stuffed into these brown plastic winter boots, which were also lined and had wooley fur cuffs around the top of the insides . . . to keep snow from getting down into there I presume. On really cold days, two pairs of mittens were essentials to keep the hands from freezing. Thus attired, I would be set to go and could spend several hours outside playing with my friends.

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And play we did . . . oh what fun we would have, making snowmen and building snow forts, slipping and sliding on the frozen smooth roads which were pounded down to a lovely slippery surface by the many cars that would pass over them during the week . . . just perfect for sliding on. I can remember running as quickly as I could and then sliding . . . seemingly gliding across that smooth surface for miles . . . but it was probably only inches. You know children's imaginations . . . I remember one of the neighbors building his children a real live igloo in the back garden one year. What a magnet that was for the neighborhood kids. I can remember sitting inside it's icy coolness and looking up at the sky through the hole in the centre of it's roof. It seemed just like a magical place . . . all cool . . . and eerily quiet inside . . . the light tinted mysteriously blue . . .

The snow seemed to sparkle back then . . . it's surface glinted like a million diamonds underneath the light of the sun. It would get very hard on the surface and you could walk along it's hard crust without falling down into it. You could punch down into it if you tried really hard . . . which was a game in and of itself . . . I can still remember the sound that my boots would make when they punched down into it. It was a magic world . . .

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Often a neighbor would have built a snow slide in the back garden for all the neighborhood kids to use to slide down. This involved shoveling and stacking all the snow up into a huge mound. . .with one side angled at the perfect angle for a sled to slide down with some speed. That side would have been watered . . . along with a good length of snow in front of it, in order to get the most speed and length possible from such an endeavor . . . we lived on the prairies . . . there were no real hills to slide down. Improvisation was the order of the day. Once frozen solid it was like a huge icy slip and slide, that was just wonderful to slide down and across.

I can remember always envying the children who had what we called a flying saucer . . . a big metal disc sort of shaped like a flat bowl, with two leather or fabric handles at the sides to hold on to. Kind of like a big aluminium frisbee. These flew like the clappers and twirled you around at the same time! We had to make do with a flat piece of coloured plastic . . . I forget what they were called now . . . but I know that they were cheap and colourful. The exhilaration of sliding down was fabulous, and I can't remember there ever being any arguments. Everyone seemed to wait their turn and get along with each other.

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Other days we would go skating at the outdoor rink. In those days you could have an outdoor rink. There was none of the freezing and thawing that makes it almost impossible nowadays. The ground froze in November and stayed frozen right through to the spring. I lived on an airbase and long about the end of October the base would put up a fenced in area just outside of the school. It seemed huge, but probably wasn't much larger than about 3 back gardens . . . once the snow began to fall and the ground began to freeze, they would flood it with water, which would then freeze and provide the perfect surface for ice skating. They even strung electric lights across so that you could see at night. There were several covered shacks erected nearby, with seats in them so that you could put your skates on right on site . . . nobody ever worried about anyone stealing their boots. It just didn't happen back then. I can remember skating for hours on Saturday afternoons. It was so much fun!! All my friends would be there too.

It is no wonder there were not many overweight kiddies in those days . . . we all spent our days outside, winter or summer . . . playing and running and just moving about. Hot or cold . . . it made no difference. We very seldom were indoors. I can still remember how in the wintertime everyone's cheeks would be so red and cold when we came back in from playing outside . . . how the inside of our scarves would smell like wet wool . . . and the line my mother always kept up which stretched from the furnace in the utility room to the wall . . . which is where all the mittens and scarves, caps and extra socks would be hung to dry until the next time. Our heads would be all sweaty from all the exertion of play and extra layers of wool. It always felt extra warm and cosy indoors after having been outside . . . looking back with my rose coloured glasses . . . it felt like family should feel . . . warm and safe and right. I have no other explanation for it . . .

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Oh, I have enjoyed going back in my mind and thinking back on those days this morning . . . thanks so much for humouring me. I would love to hear about your childhood winter memories. Please do share!

We were not in town for very long yesterday. All of a sudden my knees which have been doing so very well for these past 6 months gave out and I was in agony. It was all I could do to hobble back to the bus. I will be calling the Doctor tomorrow to get an appointment for more shots. I was in serious pain and still am today. I'm ok sitting, but it's when I get up to move that it starts . . . it's quite difficult going up and down the stairs . . . I kept the wheat bag on it all evening and in bed, and am going to go and heat it up again so that I can apply it once more. I have had a good run of relatively painless movement these last few months so I mustn't complain . . . hopefully a couple more shots will knock it back for a few more months. I do so want to go to my daughter's wedding in July, but cannot imagine being able to manipulate the airports and sitting on an airplane for the 6 hours it requires with knees like they are right now. I will be going on my own so Todd will not be with me. I will be staying off my feet as much as possible today!

Here is a delicious and easy supper that even my pasta hating husband enjoys, from time to time that is . . . he grumbles a little bit . . . but he tucks in anyways, and often has seconds. It's very simple to make and very tasty! From the Big Blue Binder, of course! (Only the best recipes are in there!)



*Cheeseburger Spaghetti Pie*
Serves 6
Printable Recipe

All the flavours of your favourite cheeseburger baked in a spaghetti crust.

For the Crust:
6 ounces uncooked vermicelli or spaghetti
1 large free range egg
1 TBS prepared mustard

For the filling:
1 pound extra lean minced beef
1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
1/2 tsp seasoned salt
1/2 cup cooked real bacon pieces (about 4 slices)
2 cups marinara sauce
1 cup finely grated cheddar cheese
9 burger slice pickles

Preheat the oven to 180*C/350*F/ gas mark 4. Spray a 9 1/2 inch glass pie dish with nonstick cooking spray. Set aside.

Cook the spaghetti according to the package directions. Drain well. Beat the egg and mustard together in a large bowl. Toss in the cooked pasta. Toss together to coat evenly, then press the spaghetti mixture into the prepared pie dish, pushing the mixture up the sides to form a crust.

Crumble the meat into a large nonstick skillet. Add the onion and sprinkle with the seasoned salt. Cook over medium high heat, stirring frequently, until the meat is no longer pink. Drain well. Stir in the bacon and tomato sauce. Spoon this mixture evenly into the spaghetti lined pie dish. Sprinkle with half of the cheese.

Bake for half an hour. Top with the pickle slices and sprinkle with the remaining cheese. Bake for an additonal 10 to 15 minutes, or until thoroughly heated and the cheese is melted. Let stand for 5 minutes before cutting into wedges to serve.

I like to serve this with a nice tossed salad on the side and some crusty french bread.



Over in The English Kitchen today, a delicious Apricot Bread Pudding.

Poetry Saturday . . . Armchair Tourist

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He doesn't need a coach and four,
To call for him at his front door,
Or trains or buses or white wings,
To show him the amazing things,
Scattered abroad upon the earth,
Of every kind of creed and worth.

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His magic is the printed word,
Whose wings are swifter than a bird,
And here within one golden line,
He visits ancient Palestine,
Follows a camel caravan,
O'er dusty roads as old as man.

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He journeys up the sluggish Nile,
Visits the pyramids a while,
Hops with a glance to far Bombay,
Walks in the streets of old Cathay,
Buys silk and lace at the bazaars,
Dreams in the night beneath the stars.

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He hears the hucksters call their wares,
The Arab priest recite his prayers,
Walks in a meadow bright with flowers,
So far away . . . yet much like ours,
With grass and rocks and grazing sheep,
And arching skies serene and deep.

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The clock strikes ten . . . and with a start.
He sees the old log fall apart,
Scattering bright coals upon the hearth,
And he comes back to common earth,
The quiet room, the curtains drawn,
A table with bright dishes on . . .
~Edna Jaques

Oh how I love to read . . . the journies I take, the people I meet . . . and the places I see, are absolutely amazing to me. Todd is a reader as well. That is something we both have in common and our tastes in reading are somewhat similar as well.

Last night we were reading travel brochures and dreaming . . . oh, if only one had all the resources you could ever want to be able to travel and go wherever you wanted to go. How wonderful that would be! We had a set of Geography Books as an addition to our encyclopedia when I was a child and I used to love going through them and looking at the pictures of all the foreign and exotic places within their covers. I remember dreaming of being able to see some of those places for real one day. Holland springs to mind as does Italy.

Oh well . . . you got to have a dream to have a dream come true. I never dreamed way back then that I would ever be living in England, and look at me now! Life does take some amazing and interesting twists!

Had no gas in the house yesterday until almost 8pm, it will be the same on Monday, but blessedly we will have gas all weekend. It was getting rather cold in here last night before it got turned on, and I couldn't cook using our stove . . . so I made do with microwave and electric skillet! We got there in the end!

Happy Saturday everyone! We're off in to town today for a boo around, and I want to pick up some Hot Cross Buns at M&S. Theirs are fabulously fruity and soooo delicious!



*Tex Mex Taters*
Serves 4
Printable Recipe

These please my meat and potatoes loving husband to no end. Baked potatoes topped with chili and cheese!

4 medium baking potatoes
1 lb extra lean minced beef
2 chipoltle chilies in adobe sauce, chopped (if desired)
1 can (8-oz) tomato sauce
1 can (4.5 oz) chopped green chilies
1/4 cup water
1 1/2 cups grated Mexican Cheese Blend
salt and pepper to taste

Prick the potatoes several times with a fork. Place on a microwavable paper towel in the microwave. Microwave on high for 11 to 14 minutes, or until tender, turning them over and rearranging halfway through the cooking time. Let stand for 3 minutes.

Brown the ground beef over medium high heat in a large skillet, until no pink remains. Stir in the chipoltle chilis, tomato sauce, green chiles, water and 1 cup of the cheese. Cook, uncovered for several minutes, stirring occasionally, until thoroughly heated through. Taste and adjust seasoning as necessary.

Slice the potatoes in half lengthwise. Place on plates. Fork up the insides a bit with a fork. Spoon the beef mixture over top and then sprinkle with the remaining cheese. Serve immediately.

Note: You may serve with some sour cream and chopped spring onion and salsa if desired. A green salad goes very well on the side!



In The English Kitchen today, a round up of my favourite British Main Courses and my tweaks on them!