My son, the wise one.

Lotus-FlowerYesterday while visiting with my son, Isaac, seemingly out of the blue he stated, “You’ve lost your center”.  It surprised me because I knew how I felt but didn’t realize it was so visible to others. He asked if I knew why.  And, in a way I do know why. But, I gave the standard answer “I’ve just got a lot going on”. Which is truthful but isn’t accurate.

Even as I responded he was smiling.  “It isn’t important what knocked you off your center; what’s important is getting back to it.”

Before going any further, let me clarify that when I write “my center” I’m referring to that happy, calm, content, amazing feeling you get when you are where you are supposed to be in your head, when your way of thinking is conducive to living a pleasing life.

Finding that calm isn’t always so easy.  Over the past handful of years I can remember only a few periods of time that I captured it and actually held onto it for a substantial period of time.  My son and I discussed this as well.  And he then asked me the guiding questions I’ve always directed at him and his sister, “What did you do to get there?”  The question was followed by a gentle nudge.  “Do those things again. You’ve stopped doing them; your head is in the wrong place,” he reminded me.

We all know this:  Unless you are a Buddhist monk living apart from the world, you’ve got to be able to accept that you’re going to lose focus in the day-to-day -especially if you are surrounded by others.  But what if it is also that you’re spending the majority of your time alone?  And I realized as we sat and talked that although I work hard at maintaining that sense of peace while I am working throughout my teaching year, I am not giving it the attention it needs when I am off.  I had mistakenly thought that it required no work, because after all, I am alone.  And shouldn’t it just come naturally then?

I’ve this thing I do called Day One. I use it any time I need to work on some personal goal. When I understand there is something within myself that I need to work on, I contemplate what changes need to be made. Then I make a list that includes what I’m doing wrong and what I can do to improve. Once I’ve identified my weaknesses and outlined my plan, I begin working toward it. That is Day One.  The first year I did this was when I learned to be kind to myself. I kept beating myself up every time I found myself sliding backward or just not making any gains at all. That’s when I created the “you can have as many Day Ones as you need without feeling guilty” rule.

So, I sit here making my list of the things I’m usually doing when I’ve captured my calm. They are so simple that one would think they are unimportant. Funny thing is that once I’ve gained that feeling of bliss, I start dropping these little things. We all do. We begin actively seeking out what we need to better our lives and then when life levels out, we feel better and jump back into the same hectic, full-speed-ahead lifestyle and Leave Those Things Behind.

Things I Will Do Today (or How I will Begin My Days)–based on the guiding question posed by my son, “What did you do to get there?”

  • Go for a long walk. And try not to daydream or make lists of what I will do when I am through walking. Being present and looking about; noticing nature.
  • Come home and be still for a little while before jumping into a home improvement project. Read a book for spiritual growth for thirty minutes and then something that is just for pleasure thirty minutes.
  • Eat a meal while doing nothing else.
  • Write something, anything. Just journal –but not notes on the phone it is cheating.
  • Give thanks for all I’ve been blessed with. You know –pray.
  • Eat a Snickers.

 

So…

Today

Is

Day

One

 

Wish me luck!

 

 

****

 

ELIZABETH MOZLEY

We Share the Same Sky, a memoir

https://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethmcgrady

Join me and other Birmingham Bloggers! http://www.bhambloggers.com/

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Author Expo ~Gadsden, Alabama

Put something on the calendar, and I’m sure not to do it. But, isn’t life about stepping out of your comfort zone? Being somewhat reclusive and shy (although those who know me well roll their eyes and mumble just beneath their breath “whatever”) it is often difficult for me to participate in an event where I am expected to be verbally outgoing and open.

Writing it is one thing, doing it another.
The quiet folks know what I mean. You are just so “exposed” when you are right there in front of others….talking.  What I didn’t anticipate from this social engagement was – well, any of what actually took place. Allow me to explain.

This year, Gadsden Public Library hosted the Alabama Library Association Annual Convention. Being a hometown girl, I was graciously extended an invitation. This in itself garnered a smile. But, the idea of an Author Expo which is hosting 32 Alabama authors, companies from across the country -who graciously sponsor the authors -and more than 500 librarians, was enough to make me hesitate and then take two steps back. That is a lot of people! And yet, I was pleasantly surprised to realize that deep down, I absolutely couldn’t wait to attend. After all, I would be surrounded by people like me –writers and readers who eat, breathe and live for a love of words!

 

Arriving early, I had to smirk and acknowledge a blonde moment; I eyed the jam packed parking lots and wondered how many blocks I’d be walking in heels, carrying a heavy box of books. So THAT is why it was so important for my assistant to meet me when I arrived! I noted the city’s kelly green trolley car shuttling folks to and from the event.

 

Gadsden was going all-out and it filled me with a deep sense of pride!

 

This year’s theme for the convention is “Libraries ImPOSSIBLE” and it is improbable that anyone will leave displeased. There are a list of events sure to draw a crowd and delight everyone who attends. For example, the Reception Block Party downtown on Broad Street with live jazz and a performance of Imperial Opa. Tuesday night, out-of-towners joined the regulars for our Literary Pub Crawl where those who gather get to sample the amazing beer at Back 40 Beer Company and discuss a particular literary great before strolling over to Blackstone Pub & Eatery to continue the fun.

 

Then today, Wednesday, filled with bestseller speakers and the Books-A-Million Author Expo at 210 at the Tracks.  I arrive and find the place packed. The vibe is amazing –beautiful bare bulbs sneak down from the blacked-out high ceiling. Music of the Etowah Youth Orchestra fills the air and already I can smell something spicy and….could it be chocolate wafting from the back reception area? Harp & Clover, Gadsden’s newest, trendiest –swankiest even – Irish Pub, located within walking distance over on Court Street, has catered the event. I also notice that folks are meandering about with food in hand; several sipping wine and a few others cold beer. My assistant, Megan, and I introduce ourselves to our sponsor, set up books, arrange seating and head to the reception area to fill a plate and find a table.

 

Neither of us it seems knew exactly what to expect. I’d wondered at the necessity of an assistant but after we sat and caught up on senior life at SHS (my old alma mater as well) a swarm of readers buzzed about, and time began to fly. We would pause, talk, laugh and share stories with these women –some from Alabama, others from across the country -before they moved on to another author; then another swarm would alight. And so flowed the events of the night.

 

I found in collecting my things afterward that, while I was light on books to carry back to the car, I was filled with stories, their stories. I couldn’t help but smile. It was a wonderful thing to have a woman point out something in particular that spoke to her from the memoir and then share with me a story of her own. Other than the Russian from NY and our friendly Spaniard, Tito, who would wander over between signings to discuss culture, tradition, family –most of my readers were women and I was delighted because the book was written for US, after all.

 

Just two cobblestone blocks away, I wrap up my evening with a Guinness at Harp & Clover and chat up my dear friend Dee as he moves back and forth through the establishment, deftly working the crowd. Such an exquisite end to a most enjoyable evening. From now on, all of my pub crawls in Gadsden, Alabama will end right here! I recommend the Dubliner, a burger topped with “house-made bacon jam & Cahill’s whiskey infused cheese” and of course the Bread Pudding.

 

*And, I do believe I’ve just claimed a new place to hide away and write…the little niche in the back corner should do nicely.

Thank you –Amanda Jackson and Carol Roark Wright with Gadsden Public Library, and also Megan Potts, my assistant, for a wonderful evening!
Already I’m looking forward to the next Writer’s Expo in Huntsville and Chattanooga. And, Megan, I’m going to hold you to the agreement to go sight-seeing, history hunting and helping with book sales.

The only way to find –is to seek.
Nothing worth having just happens; you have to go looking for it!

image

 

*****

 

ELIZABETH MOZLEY

We Share the Same Sky, a memoir

https://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethmcgrady

Join me and other Birmingham Bloggers! http://www.bhambloggers.com/

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The Lure of a Road Trip~

I think for me, the love of a road trip began at a very early age.

Most Sundays after church, the family would load up in the car with snacks and a cold soda for a long ride in the country.  Not that my brother, Oba, or I ever complained but when we’d ask why we were going Papa always replied, “Gas is cheap”.  And, we didn’t always know where we were going.  The parents didn’t even know.  Mother would explain that we were just getting out for a while, getting away and although they were not sure where we were going, they were sure we would all enjoy it.

carAnd, we did!

There are also the memories of Florida getaways.  I’m not just talking about the vacation itself, but the drive.  Papa never took the interstate.  He chose the back roads because they were more appealing.  Sure, the interstate offered a speedy trip, but it killed any chance of feeding the senses.  Looking back, I’m not sure we ever went the same way twice.  But, it was glorious.  Oba and I didn’t sit in the back seat and ask, “How much longer?”  We were keen observers of our surroundings and stayed on the look-out for something fun to do. My parents made the trip down as much fun as the time we spent  on the beach.  No one watched the clock.  There was no rush.  We stopped at Civil War Memorials, old historic hotels, well-known restaurants and hole-in-the-wall eateries –and almost every farmer’s market we could find!  Papa always took a cooler. Oba and I constantly begged for a ripe watermelon.  These were usually sold out of the back of a farmer’s pickup truck. Mother had a thing for fresh roasted peanuts.  I wanted mine Cajun boiled.

I never know when the desire to roam will overwhelm me.  But, I’m always ready –drop of the hat, right here right now, ready!  When it hits, it hits hard.  And, it’s not always at an opportune time.   Here it is Christmas, and that desire to go exploring has taken hold, a strong hold, and it’s not letting go.

There is just something invigorating and exciting about the spur-of-the-moment, a flip of the coin decision to GO!  It doesn’t even have to be a new place for me.  There are cities and towns for which my appreciation will never wane.

Perhaps, revisiting a beloved city is even better than experiencing the new. There are the familiar things you love that draw and entice.

 photo 6

I want to feel the excitement of anticipation; pull clothes from the closet, roll them and fill my old military duffle; pick a place, purchase a ticket and climb on board the train then sit and watch through the window as the landscape slides by, or read a good book, think about the things I am going to do.

                                                I want to stand on the subway platform in Manhattan and listen to the street musicians; ice skate at Rockefeller Plaza with the kids; take a midnight Christmas at Rockefeller Center, 2008taxi ride around downtown.

 

photo (1)

I want to rise early in New Orleans and peek into private courtyards…

run my hands along old iron-work…photo (1)

                   photon

photom

wait in line at Café du Monde for beignets and cafe au lait with the grandbaby.

 

 

 

 

I want to hike Mt. Rainer in the snow again, and wander Seattle…aaaaaaaaaaa

 

 

 

 

 

have fresh oysters and purchase succulent dates that are the size of my thumb at Pike Place Market…aaa

                                                        see San Francisco with my husband for the first time.

 

I want to walk in NYC pon a beautiful winter night with snowflakes falling, holiday lights flashing…

 

 

sip hot chocolate in Central Park under the moonlight &…

photo l

As often happens when the desire to roam strikes at an inopportune time, I return to my journals hoping to fill the need if only a little.

************

JOURNAL of a time in Central Park that did not make it into the memoir, We Share the Same Sky.

At last, I have found a place that bears a resemblance to home-Central Park.  I cannot live without trees, trees and leaves -oh, beautiful leaves.  I reach up and pluck one from a nearby low-hanging limb.  My intentions are to press it, and put it away in a book so that one day when it is pulled down from its shelf, the page will fall open to this reminder, a token of a worthwhile week in the city.  The words to my favorite Walt Whitman poem dance across my mind. 

“…All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches; without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark green…”

The light here in the park is different than in the city.  The beauty of nature reflects it differently.  Or perhaps it is that the light is absorbed more, rather than reflected.  And the sounds are familiar.  I can hear the laughter of children at play on the lawn, birds in the distance calling to one another from beneath the overhang of tree limbs.  Like the children, they too are dancing, chirping.  And suddenly, as though from nowhere in particular, I am hungry for home.

 Cheaha Lake, December 2014Mt. Cheaha Lake, December 2014. Photo by Lakeside Living editor, Buddy Roberts.

 

********

ELIZABETH MOZLEY MCGRADY

https://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethmcgrady

small photo of book we share same sky

WE SHARE THE SAME SKY, a memoir

Tate Publishing

January 14, 2014

We Share the Same Sky chronicles an independent excursion to New York City the summer of 2007. The memoir revolves around the typical NYC experience: exploring neighborhoods and cultural enclaves; gorging at Manhattan’s famous and not-so-famous restaurants and bakeries; and contemplation on well-known and unfamiliar city landmarks and icons. Woven throughout is a look into the Southern female psyche with reflections on the influence family and place have on personal identity. In a more constant strain, the memoir addresses the effect our beliefs have on the choices we make in our daily lives, for faith is the inextricable link that ties us all together.

A recent review: http://theleftbankofthecoosa.blogspot.com/2014/04/we-share-same-sky-by-elizabeth-mozley.html

Fried green tomatoes @ both Whistle Stop Cafés

When it comes to fried green tomatoes, I thank God Alabama and Georgia are sister states!  However, this weekend was about more than just food.

Well, somewhat!

There are days I crave a road trip, and when I can’t take a long one I pick something I’m interested in, do a little research and take a short one (or two related ones) instead.

Now being a Southern woman, it goes without saying that I am a Fannie Flagg fan.  If the name does not ring any bells, please let me try to ring them.  Fannie Flagg is the professional name for Patricia Neal, an Alabama native, actress/writer/comedian.  You may remember her for co-hosting our local “Morning Show” on WBRC-TV or her appearances on Allen Funt’s Candid Camera & the game show Match Game.  OH, and let’s not forget that little Southern book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café and the amazing movie Fried Green Tomatoes! 

Friedgreenbookfilm box red

The Irondale Café, also known as The Original Whistlestop Café is not new to me. Located in Irondale, Alabama in the greater Birmingham area, it is a short 45 minute drive from our house.  And the food is worth every minute of it!  Originally begun in 1928, the business was ran after WWII by three women -Bess Fortenberry, Sue Lovelace & Lizzie Cunningham-who together turned the café into a sensation.  It just so happens that our author, Fannie Flagg, is Bess Fortenberry’s niece.

The idea of visiting both the Irondale location and then driving over to Juliette, Georgia where the movie was filmed struck me as something fun to do.  The trip would take two and a half hours there, two and a half back.  Just far enough to get away for a while and fill my tank (creativity tank/ happy tank & the bottomless pit/hunger tank). You know what I’m talking about!  I just needed to get lost a while, enjoy some soul food and smile.

***

       Knowing how everyone likes to hear how the food tastes and see how it looks, I decided to revisit the Irondale Café first and order a few things I don’t normally get.  Being out of school last Friday because Talladega County schools can’t run buses for all the race traffic was a plus I took advantage of.  It was also my excuse to hit the road!

photo3

 

When my husband, Travis, overheard my plans he decided to join me for lunch.  The place was packed and plates were fully loaded!  We grabbed a tray and got in line.

 1The pies are always my weakness! 2The special was smothered chicken livers~ a Southern favorite!  I’m not sure what it is about cafeteria style restaurants, but I love how they bring out the little girl in me -I just get so excited about all the choices right there within arms reach!  You get to see the food before you choose…smothered chicken livers

 It is extremely difficult for me to give up something I love in order to try something new.  So, I went for a few -a very limited few- of my favorites…

the best fried catfish around…cornbread dressing, fried green tomatoes & a huge slice of toasted coconut pie!  Travis chose the fried catfish, hush-puppies & coleslaw –and a slice of the coconut pie.

The dressing and the fried catfish are now at the top of the list as the best things they serve!  Their chocolate pie is still my favorite dessert.

 

***

Sunday Morning, arrived and it could not have been a more beautiful day -70 degrees and sunny!  When I drove down Hwy 78 to I-20, Talladega race fans were already crowding the roads.  I cruised along with my windows down enjoying a little Tony Bennett & Frank Sinatra, constantly checking my speedometer because every State Trooper in Bama was out and about.

atl    Lost in a daydream I was in Atlanta, Georgia before I realized it!

       As I exited I-75 South and entered Forsyth, Georgia my heart began to sing.  There is nothing as wonderful as a drive in the country on a pretty day!  I was nine miles from Juliette and I was beyond ravenous!

 forsythA farmhouse in Forsyth filled me with envy!

JULIETTE & THE WHISTLE STOP CAFE at last~

       When I arrived, there were only a few tables taken by families having Sunday dinner; church had just let out. (In the South, dinner is your biggest meal on Sunday, taken at lunch & supper is your evening meal.)

wsc

I chose a little table in the front corner  near the door where I could people watch and snap photos without being too intrusive 😉 y

Leslie brought me the menu, a big glass of sweet tea and a plate of hot fried green tomatoes to munch on while I looked over the menu.

“You like potato and I like potahto
You like tomato and I like tomahto
Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto…”

 f

whistle-stop-cafe-menu-frontwhistle-stop-cafe-menu-back

sToo many things called to me; I was so hungry I couldn’t think clearly.   Oh, what a lie!

I just wanted what I wanted: fried okra, macaroni and cheese, collards & cornbread.  And, that is exactly what I got.

*The macaroni and cheese was so good I could have made a meal on it and the cornbread alone!

When Leslie returned to refill my tea glass and ask if I wanted dessert, I was ready!  As usual, I felt the need to explain that I want to sample, and no, please do not bring me smaller portions!   That’s what a carry-home box is for! 🙂

and the winner is...  I followed my heart and ordered the peach cobbler.

d   Then I ordered the pecan cobbler & the apple dumpling.

“Are you trying all of these?” She asked, trying not to smile.  When I nodded yes, she simply grinned and said, “Yes, ma’am.  I’ll warm them all up!”

I tried the peach cobbler first. It was perfectly creamy with                                        dumpling-like breading in some spots and flaky crust in others!

I set aside my spoon, saving it for last and tried the pecan cobbler.  It had the same flavor as a pecan pie but less of the custardy filling.  Like the peach, it was also heavenly and so sweet it made my teeth hurt!  I decided to box it for Travis.  I took one bite of the apple cobbler and boxed it as well.  It was good, but I was filling up fast.

The peach cobbler and the dense lightly vanilla flavored ice cream was all I wanted.  If a group of bikers had not come in and filled the cafe and the table next to mine, I’d have ran my finger through the bowl to get the rest of it!  But, I’d already garnered enough raised brows and smirks for one day.

***

bank

After lunch I decided to walk around, see the sites and browse the antique and novelty shops.

       Before the filming of Fried Green Tomatoes began, many of the buildings in Juliette were run-down and overgrown with ivy and vines.  Needless to say, Hollywood gussied it up.  If you pay attention, at the end of the film when Ninny returns to her home and finds it is not the quaint little town she remembers, you will see Juliette as it was before the clean-up and filming began.  Today, the little town remains as it did during filming -quite picturesque and very Southern.

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Directly across the street from the restaurant is Vern Cora’s Antiques.

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I loved the interior of this store as it was so bright and colorful.  I also found too many things I wanted~

My daughter, Anderson, would love Purple Hayes which is next door!  The shop was opened by Delores Hayes after her husband passed away.  She came up with the name by combining his favorite color and their last name.

p

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As I walked from store to store, I stopped and spoke with the owners.  It’s amazing how personable everyone was, how willing and eager they were to talk about their little town.  I met Shelley George and Jennifer Yozviak at Ruth & Idgie’s Gift Shop, where they happily showed off the back room as it is featured in one of the scenes in the film.  Gives me an excuse to watch it yet again and look for matching wallpaper!

poAt  The Blackberry Patch I found a turquoise colored mixer I should have purchased, but told myself I didn’t need!aa

And, all about are the quirky props from the film!   Like Smokey Lonesome’s cabin, and the gravestone of Frank Bennett. The town of Juliette really is a lot of fun!

bbdd

The old buildings are the prettiest.

o

The last store I stopped in was Tommy Moon’s store, The Honey Comb.  What can I say, I just have a thing for honey…

Before I left Juliette, I drove out to get a pic or two of the dam.

nn

nnu

dam

little houseAnd fell hard for a little white house!

Every once in a while it’s nice to just get out of town!  By the time I made it back to Oxford, Alabama the race was over and Nascar fans were again filing onto I-20.  Talk about perfect timing~

***

LINKS –

The Irondale Cafe:  http://www.irondalecafe.com

The Whistle Stop Cafe, Juliette:  http://www.thewhistlestopcafe.com

 

If you enjoy fall festivals you should head to Juliette this weekend for the Fried Green Tomato Festival!  You’ve just missed the Whistle Stop Festival in Irondale, AL.

The grandbaby and I highly recommend it! 

 me and bug

Me & Elizabeth Rileigh enjoying the annual Whistle Stop Festival!

**********************************************

ELIZABETH MOZLEY MCGRADY

https://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethmcgrady

small photo of book we share same sky

WE SHARE THE SAME SKY, a memoir

Tate Publishing

January 14, 2014

We Share the Same Sky chronicles an independent excursion to New York City the summer of 2007. The memoir revolves around the typical NYC experience: exploring neighborhoods and cultural enclaves; gorging at Manhattan’s famous and not-so-famous restaurants and bakeries; and contemplation on well-known and unfamiliar city landmarks and icons. Woven throughout is a look into the Southern female psyche with reflections on the influence family and place have on personal identity. In a more constant strain, the memoir addresses the effect our beliefs have on the choices we make in our daily lives, for faith is the inextricable link that ties us all together.

A recent review: http://theleftbankofthecoosa.blogspot.com/2014/04/we-share-same-sky-by-elizabeth-mozley.html

Wise beyond her years~

Quote

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God.  Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see the people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.”   Anne Frank

 

 grand tetons

 Photo: Copyright © Hanz en Henriette Meulenbroeks:   Outdek Amerika Nl 

Goodbye Summer, Hello Fall

When the weather changes, the closet gets changed out and the plate offered at the table follows suit.  It is time for fall foods, folks!  While I am sure some eat biscuits year round, for me they are a cool weather food; as summer is reserved for fresh fruits that are readily available at our local farmer’s market.  Admittedly, I’ve not always been a fruit lover.  (Laughing, because I can hear the actor in Tombstone drawling, “You, music lover”. It’s funny only if you know the film and once you hear it, you can’t UN-hear it.) But, I digress.

It’s fall and it’s time for cool weather foods.  And for me, warm, just-baked breads are at the top of the list!  Of course, the memoir We Share the Same Sky is filled with reflections of growing up in the South, foods my grandmother’s and mother made, breads they baked and the hours we shared around the family table.  So, I thought today I would share an excerpt, followed by a sweet potato biscuit recipe.  My cousin, Dana Lynn, has been at work perfecting our Grandmother Libby’s square dinner biscuits.  Perhaps she will allow me to share these as well in the near future.

 

From:  We Share the Same Sky (an excerpt from Chapter 2)

Simplicity -free of complexity, refinement or pretentiousness

     The importance of the making and sharing of bread is an amazing thing.   The       women in my family all make a variety of breads. But, of them all, my favorite continues to be the humble biscuit. My GrandMosie’s were the most divine!  She got up early every morning to make my Grandpa breakfast before he went to work. She would fill several with butter and granulated sugar, then slip them to me with a hot cup of coffee at three a.m. because she knew I preferred them hot. I’d eat, drink, crawl back beneath the weight of handmade quilts and fall right back into a deep sleep.  She also made sweet potato biscuits for me and Papa on days we went hunting.  We would eat our fill, then wrap those remaining in paper napkins and tuck them in our coat pockets.  They were thick, dense biscuits, so rich in flavor.

My Grandmother Libby also made incredible biscuits, though they were somewhat odd.  She kept her flour in a huge tin in the cupboard; when she readied to make biscuits she would pull out a stool, open the tin and make a well right there in the flour then work in the shortening and buttermilk.  The biscuit dough was removed, the lid fastened back onto the tin and put away. After rolling out the dough into a long rectangular shape, she placed it on a flat baking sheet and cut it into squares.  She was the only person I knew who made them this way. Always, they were served alongside her falling-off-the-bone, fried pork chops.

Baking bread is often the basis of tradition. And, many of these traditions are linked to religion. Unleavened bread is partaken when receiving the Eucharist or the Lord’s Supper; Artos is a Greek celebration bread; elaborate wreath breads are indicative of many German celebrations and King Cake is a common Christmas tradition in countries commemorating the festival of Epiphany.  Southerners in Mobile, Alabama and New Orleans, Louisiana begin the merriment of Mardi Gras with a King Cake iced in carnival colors of purple, gold and green.  Whomever finds the token- be it bean or baby- baked within the cake, receives both a favor and responsibility.   A Christmas custom in Poland is the making and sharing of Oplatek.  This thin wafer has a holy picture pressed into it.  Family members make it together, then share it with close neighbors.  Each person breaks a wafer and as they eat it, forgives the other of any wrong doing or hurt that has occurred over the past year.

Today, wheat is the most widely cultivated crop on earth.  But, I believe that mass production has diminished our appreciation for it.  Surely, the women who grew, milled, and made their own breads viewed the final product very differently. They claimed a connection to the soil, and therefore to the land and to home.  The Russian immigrants who secretly brought over their more resilient grains understood this bond. How true it is, the quote by Aldo Leopold that “the oldest task in human history [is] to live on a piece of land without spoiling it.”   In our effort to progress, we have not only severed our tie to the land, we have let go of traditions that connect us to our heritage.

***************************************************************

 

Unfortunately this is not my GrandMosie’s recipe. 

She never used one for breads or pies.

sweet-potato-biscuits

 

Sweet Potato Biscuits

Ingredients:

  • 1 sweet potato prebaked and cooled
  • 1 1/4 cups sweet milk
  • 3 1/2 cups self-rising flour
  • 4 tsp. sugar
  • A good pinch of salt
  • 2/3 cup cold solid vegetable shortening, cut into
    small pieces
  • 4 Tbs. cold unsalted butter, cut into
    small pieces

Directions:

Preheat an oven to 400°F.

Position a rack in the upper third of the oven and increase the temperature to 450°F.

Peel the sweet potato and mash with a fork, then add the buttermilk and mix until smooth.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, sugar and salt. Add the shortening and butter; use a fork to cut them into the dry ingredients. Add the sweet milk mixture and stir until a soft, crumbly dough forms. Turn the dough out onto a well-floured surface and knead very lightly, just until it holds together.

Roll out and pat the dough into a rectangle 6 by 12 inches. Use a biscuit cutter or old juice jar to cut out biscuits. Transfer to a lightly sprayed baking sheet. Bake until the biscuits have risen and the edges and bottoms are lightly browned, 12 to 14 minutes.


*Recipe was given to me by a dear friend years ago –thank you CW. *Photo via tiny banquet committee.

 

WE SHARE THE SAME SKY https://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethmcgrady

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WORRY, EXPECTATIONS, CONTROL – OH, MY!

You wouldn’t carry around and nurture a rotten egg.

Yes, it is a silly thought, but it reminds me how foolish it is to worry, when worry accomplishes nothing.

For the most part I am a really happy person and I tend to wake up that way almost every day.  But, there are days that once I get going, I begin to WORRY.  And, there are other times when the blues strike for no apparent reason –not a sadness mind you, but rather a deep funk.  Thank goodness these are getting fewer and further between.

They say that women have a greater propensity for worrying than men, that we tend to over analyze things.  It’s something that once it hits, I have to get a hold on quickly.  I have learned to turn to two books: Change Your Thoughts –Change Your Life, Living the Wisdom of the Tao by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer and Peace a Day at a Time, 365 Meditations for Wisdom and Serenity by Karen Casey.

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Although, I am a Christian, I appreciate Buddhism’s lessons on kindness, generosity and self-love.  So picking up Dyer’s book and delving into it was a given.  It is an easy read, but if you read the lessons twice you gain a deeper meaning.  The other book, Karen Casey’s, I picked up without realizing that it is a book for AA.  I simply picked it up in the bookstore when the title caught my eye, flipped to a page, read it and was hooked!  Its lessons are so short and simple that it is hard to fathom the effect they have on your thinking.  Bookmarks now fill each and I’ve underlined and written in all the margins my thoughts and feelings, little phrases that sing to me.  Both books are filled with Biblical scripture as well; and like faith, neither are one dimensional.

If I am honest, my worrying has another component that I don’t like.  I call it the ugly cousin –CONTROL.  Trying to control even the smallest of things seems almost an addiction.  I know it is poisonous.  It can make what should be non-stressful situations stressFULL and can place a hardship on even the strongest relationships.  For example, because I am an extremely punctual person (a little OCD when it comes to time, I have multiple alarm clocks) I let what should be a minor irritant –waiting on someone for what I felt was an ungodly amount of time- almost ruin a friendship.  A girlfriend told me she would meet me at a specific time, and showed up 45 minutes late; she was smiling and chipper I might add.  I was beyond ill.  What I didn’t understand at that time was that I was the one with the problem, not her.  It was my expectations that caused the problem.

Give up expectations of others, stop worrying and just find something to smile about.

It is amazing how much of this I began to understand once I read Dyer’s and Casey’s books.  By changing the way I viewed things, I changed the way I felt.

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