once upon a time, long ago....

the snow melted and we're back to normal mid-april weather in michigan. big storms heading our way tonight.

over dinner i told r that on may 9, 1923 michigan received 6 inches of snow. (my point being that we could potentially get quite a bit of snow that late in the season) r says, "how did you remember that?" oh lordy. i don't remember that--as i wasn't born....but i did see it on the news earlier in the day.

that reminds me of when b was a wee-little and asked my mom if there were trees when she was a kid.

man, i love those moments. i love when funny things come out of people's mouths. whether, on accident or *by purpose*--another one of b's sayings from when he was small.

makes me wish i had wrote down all those funny moments--to relive them again and again.

are there stories in your family that you all tell again and again? i'd love to hear them. i'm a new audience.

nobody in my family wants to hear the story of how i was almost killed by a trout.... again. it's a good story. i am the hero. my family are all the bad guys. maybe that's why nobody wants to go over that one again. ;)


love and light and good stories
deborah

i should get an award....for my awesome-ness or something

so the airborne has spent the last few days chasing the germs pulsing through my body. it is hard to catch up. i believe the key to airborne, is to take it the moment before you begin to think that maybe you might, by chance be coming down with the gunk. there is where i made my mistake.

by friday, i was dying. and dramatic. i'm not a good sick person. my poor poor family. saturday was a little better, but by sunday my lack of sleep coupled with constant coughing? a little annoying some might say.

let me share with you our sunday.

so sunday we all get up and get ready to drive 30 minutes to r's baseball scrimmage at the sport's complex--the giant-long-halled sport's complex--so awesome that the scrimmage was cancelled for a regular practice at the old high school, that is but one minute away, where the rest of the team was tossing the ball around. awesome. i didn't even complain, but told r that i was sorry that both of his parents checked the wrong e-mail.
(r with his *oscar* in chicago's museum of art)

r had free mcdonald's coupons so i allowed the boys to use them without complaining about the lack of nutritional value in mcdonald's *food*.

big red and i went on an afternoon date that also included a trip to homegoods and the grocery store. he didn't even hold my germy hand. he mostly followed me around like a really good kid.

then big red and i watched the oscars. because we only saw one movie up for any award. and that was toy story 3. awesome.
(big red and woody at chicago's lego store)

i like movies, red likes movies--we like, don't go to the movies. we go to homegoods and the grocery store. and the baseball practice and places we don't need to be. awesome. i'd like my award now, i feel a speech bubbling up inside me. the king's speech. who should i thank for my awesome-ness?



awesome love and light
deborah larson king

soup from bones

new year and new beginnings. who doesn't like that? but, do we have to start over? or can we begin again. from where we left off?

can we take all we've learned and experienced and use it to begin....right here, right now?

that's what i'm doing. no resolutions. no big fan-fare. just quietly scooping up all i've learned, gained and experienced to make further progress.

do you know what works for you....and what doesn't? are you willing to let go of what isn't working this year?

what works for me? starting the year with a big pot of soup on the stove and my big family to share it with. it's a tradition--17 years, now. making soup from bones. a black bean and ham soup. our christmas eve honey baked ham bone in particular. then lots of yummy ingredients. it simmers all day. the recipe is right here. it's an evening of family, good food and games every new year's day. that works for me. taking something wonderful from last year and bringing it into the new year. soup from bones--something from nothing.


best
deborah

our family tree

i changed my header photo. it is from our big christmas tree.

it is so much how i feel at christmas--bright and happy and nostalgic.

that stripe-y ornament is from my grandparent's. not just from them--but from the trees they had each year. i'm pretty sure it is from the 1930's.

the turquoise bulb is straight from my own parent's very groovy silver aluminum tree. that tree had it's own rotating light wheel that would cast red, blue, yellow on the tree--and for a brief few seconds the yellow would become green and the blue would turn all violet before turning red. those turquoise, magenta and purple balls are all circa 1962. i remember sprawling out on the floor staring into that light wheel, while listening to my dad's christmas records on the stereo.
this is probably the last year we had that groovy tree--1972. (it says so on the back of the photo. it also says i am 5 years 4 months) and maybe, the last year my mom had that totally remarkable hair. i can almost smell the "adorn" hairspray. my mom wasn't in many of my childhood photographs. she did most of the picture-taking. well, because as you can see my dad did not count or give us any warning to smile or anything. i think my mom is telling my little sister and i to say....*cheese*. i'm pretty sure my mom doesn't show up again in a photo until the early 1980's. in those days, the self-photograph wasn't so common. but i digress.

and then there are the ones we--big red and i have collected. all together on one tree. traditional christmas--passed from one generation to the next.

i love this family tree of ours.



best
deborah

apples

i kept the name of this blog for a long time to myself....kept it close to my heart. though in the early days, i wasn't sure what it meant and what i should do with it. i repeated it over and over for months....maybe over a year. i'm not exactly sure when it first came to me. i think i may have dreamt it. or was it whispered in my ear? then i began to turn it over again and again. and i realized it was something.

well, i'm going to break this post into more bite-size pieces.

the apples part is multi-layered.

for me, apples are a symbol. what do you think of?

me?

i think of lots of things, but mostly i think of my grandma. my grandma had the most generous spirit i've ever known. and when i think of the life she had, i have to wonder where that generosity of spirit came from.

i think of the first time i cut myself cooking was with her. making apple pies.
i think of the canned applesauce with cinnamon that she and my gramps would make each fall.

i think of her baked and fried apples.

years ago, the fall after my dear gramps died, my gram was living alone in an assisted living apartment not far from our little place. she had a teeny-tiny kitchen with a one-burner cooktop. most of her meals were in the community dining room--she was an amazing cook (i know *amazing* gets overused....but i'm not sure any other word works here)
the food in the dining room was tolerable. not awful, but not great. she never complained and would always find something to compliment. ::bless her::
i was having a family dinner at our home. big red picked up gram, who had a big tupperware bowl of fried apples in tow. she had helped herself to a few apples at a time from the fruit bowl in the apartment lobby for days. she had plenty of sugar packets (at one time, i think all grandmas had lots of sugar packets). she saved the butter pads at each meal. so, with a little cinnamon from her own tiny cupboard had made sticky caramel-y fried apples to share with us--potluck style.
after dinner, there was a little bit of fried apple left. she carefully slid them into a smaller container and placed them in my fridge.

a couple days later i chatted with her on the phone, i had just returned from getting a christmas photo of our oldest(then only 2 1/2 years). we talked about regular stuff, but she told me her vision had returned.

hold the horses.

my grandma had lost vision in one eye years ago, following the delivery of a stillborn baby boy in 1949. she had surgery in 1980, but that had not been successful.

my parents were at her place when i had called so i kept the conversation short.

early the next morning my mom called from the hospital--i should come right away. but, it was too late. grandma had died--a heart attack.

(this is where i always cry....still. 14 years later)
after coming home from the hospital where they pronounced her dead and where i last stroked her soft soft soft pale grey hair, i opened the fridge. there in the back was the little bowl of apples.
i ate them slowly. crying.



best
deborah

for always

my adoption day....today.

the day I was placed in my family's home

for good

or for worse

but, for always.


best
deborah