Spicking Picksburgese

Prior to moving to the Frozen North, I assumed all yankees spoke with the same sharp accent, except of course for New Englanders, who are a group unto themselves, ye-yah.

I was wrong.

We have had the good fortune to sample the unique peculiarities of speech that define central New York and western Pennsylvania.  Let me give you a simple example:

First person plural pronoun:  Texan = y'all, New Yorkan = youse guys,  Pennsylvanian  = y'uns.

The first New Yorkan "youse guys" I ever heard was from the tooth challenged lips of a subway motorman.  My first experience with the Pennsylvanian version was from a waitress in a restaurant.  It took me a little bit to understand what the waitress was talking about.  

Pennsylvania has both Texas and New York beat when it comes to renaming the days of the week:

1.  Stillerday -- any day the Picksburg Stillers are playing football.  This day is distinguished from the others by the wearing of special clothing with numbers and names of Hawaiian people on the back and the menacing waving of yellow and black bath towels.

2.  Walmartday -- also accompanied by ceremonial garb, usually involving sweatpants.

3.   Roadconstructionday -- can be up to 3 months long in the summer--and you thought Alaska had the longest days!

4.   Turkeyday (not to be confused with Turkey Day in November or Turkey season in the fall).





5.  Deerday



6.  Snowday -- which has seemed to come around in rapid succession this winter. Snowdays dictate a two hour delay to the start of school or, on rare occasions, actual school and business closings.

(road in front of Iron Acres one recent snowday)

7.  Hoe-icicleday.  Hoe-icicleday is extremely important if you own a business and have minimal liability coverage.  Temperature fluctuations can create some incredibly long and jagged spears on roof edges, the stuff of Stephen King's dreams.



Down the road a little way from our neck of western Pennsylvania is the metropolis of Picksburg.  Picksburg has a vocabulary all its own.

For example:  I went donton (downtown) tuh (to) watch thuh (the) Stillers (Steelers) game.
or -- I wuz (was) expectin' (expecting) company so I went don cellur (down into the basement) to red up (make the basement ready) thuh (the) place.

I could go on, but I think you get the pitcher.






           

Family Portraits

Our move to the Frozen North had many happy consequences, one in particular being the necessity of photographically chronicling the lives of our children for the grandparents back in Texas. We have a slew (that's Texan for a big bunch) of family portraits over the years, from professional to, ahem, less professional.

My Dad taught me early in life the joys of using a timer with your camera. It provides such wonderful informal family shots. Plus, you eliminate the trauma and chaos involved with getting young children dressed up and driving halfway around the country to the portrait studio, where you wait for what seems like hours as you attempt to keep the children 1)humored, 2)unwrinkled, 3)busy, and 4)fed.

It's just so much easier to pop it on the kids as you fall out of the car in your church clothes on Sunday, "Hey, why don't we get some pictures before lunch"?

We did this only once, with the following result. I think it is my favorite family picture.

 

Considering I wasn't sure I was going to be in the frame, I think mine looked pretty good. My Dear Professor had other things on his mind, like eating lunch. Major lesson for this photographer: fuller stomachs = better attitudes, especially important for the men in the picture.

Principessa always takes good pictures, in this case I think she was daydreaming of the New Kids on the Block.

The Preacher, our firstborn, managed to shine even with a haircut given by his Mom.

But for the life of me, I will never understand what was going through The Dreamer's mind.

It was then I knew he really loved me

He grew up in the hot south Texas sun. Jeans and books were all he ever wanted for Christmas. And a Willy Mays autographed baseball. Summers found him digging post holes in the hard caleche and stringing barbed wire. The air felt like the inside of an oven. His only relief was the shade of a pickup truck. It was in that shade that he had his epiphany one scorching Texas summer day, dust in his lungs and sweat trickling into his eyes.

He would get a college degree so he could earn a living with his mind instead of his hands.



His Daddy went along with the idea, taking the risk all Daddies do--that their sons will return home once the dream loses its glow. But the dream shone brighter in the lights and excitement of the big city. Daddy would have to be satisfied that he came back for holidays and family events. One man's dream burned up in the kindling of another's.

When I met him, he was practicing law as a trial attorney in Houston. His hands were smooth, and his mind was brilliant. I think I fell in love with his mind first. His closet was filled with suits, and one pair of jeans he used for jogging in the humid Houston weather.



We got married, which made both of our parents happy, and started our journey through life together. We bought a house, I went back to finish college, and we had 2 children, first a boy, and then a girl 22 months later. Three or four times a year we would drive back down to south Texas to visit his family. Seven years into our life together, he had another epiphany.

He would go back to college for a PhD so he could earn his living by teaching instead of pleading cases.

We moved north, crossing first the Red River, and then the Mason Dixon Line on our way to New York. Our luggage bore the extra weight of a newfangled home computer. The next summer we had our third child. Our "little yankee."



We acclimated ourselves to snow and cold, and I typed the endless drafts and edits of his dissertation. During those seven years I had an epiphany.

I would live in the country and have the horse of my dreams.

He graduated and we moved southwesterly into Pennsylvania, to a little farm not too far from town and the college where he would teach.

One sticky, hot June day in western Pennsylvania he donned his old jeans, a worn dress shirt, and a pair of work gloves to gather hay from our field. The next week he spent with some hired hands digging post holes and stringing wire to fence in the new horse.



He had laid down his post hole digger in Texas only to take it up again in Pennsylvania.

For me.

It was then I knew he really loved me.


"Through the years as the fire starts to mellow
Burning lines through the book of our lives
Though the binding cracks, and the pages start to yellow
I'll be in love with you
I'll be in love with you" Dan Fogelberg, "Longer"

Passing on the love...

A few days short of a year ago I began my foray into blogging. I have not looked back (except to weed out some of my beginning posts that didn't age well!) In the early days I would check the stats daily to see if anyone was (tap!tap!) out there. But that's not really why I put fingers to keyboard. I do hope to share some encouragement and laughter with the world, but I also want to record memories for my family. (while I can still remember them!)

My dear friend and gifted blogger, Jezamama, has generously chosen Iron Acres for two awards (blush!)-- Superior Scribbler and Beautiful Blogger. With those awards go certain responsibilities. The fun part is sharing with you some of my favorite blogs.  (I would list Jez's blog in both categories, but someone else did it already.)

Superior Scribblers:
1. Must link to the author and the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
2. Must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
3. Must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!
4. Must post these rules on his/her blog.
5. Must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.(the fun part!)


My five nominees for Superior Scribbler are:
A Picure a Day and Chronicles of a Country Girl--Kate has an eye for using textures, her photography is beautiful, and you will find yourself addicted to a daily dose of George!

Crepes of Wrath-- You'll visit for the name and stay for the recipes and gorgeous pictures.  Sydney is a young thing, just recently married.  She gives me hope for her generation.

Sprinkles--I met L last summer.  She hails from New York and has been chronicling her life in Texas online since 2004.  L has an incredible sense of humor and we share a love of old movies.  And she sort of likes Barry Manilow. (read, "is his numero uno fan!")

BlogU--Annie offers wisdom in navigating the treacherous waters of html.  She is generous with her knowledge, and able to explain the wizardry of widgets and templates in terms this newbie can understand.

A Holy Experience -- Ann Voskamp weaves the everyday experiences of a farmer's wife and homeschool mom in words of beauty and significance.  She has a profound gift for seeing eternity in the ordinary and sharing Truth.


Beautiful Blogger:
1.  Thank the person who nominated you for this award.  (Thank you, Jezamama!)
2. Copy the award and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
4. Tell us 7 interesting things about yourself.

--My Dad was an amateur magician, and I helped out as his assistant a few times. (sans spandex and fishnet hose)

--I was an early member of a Christian drama group that performed at the Alley Theatre in Houston.

--I wrote, recorded, and performed songs as part of a Christian singing group in the 70s.

--I enjoy making soap, cheese, and bread.  From scratch.  With fresh goat milk!

--I can carry on a conversation using song titles alone.  It's a curse.

--During my "Russian" period I read every novel and short story written by Leo Tolstoy. I do love me some Leo Tolstoy.

--I play a mean guitar and wail on the drums in Rock Band 2.  Just ask Unca Dave, the ultimate gamer.  It's the only video game I can best him at, at least for now. (love ya, Unca Dave!)

5. Nominate 7 bloggers.
6. Post links to the 7 blogs nominated.

Meme'sCorner--Meme is an 80something "beginner" blogger with more awards than you can shake a stick at.  Her posts are a wonderful window into both today and yesterday.

The French Factrice --vintage postcards and blog buttons, oh my!

Faith Barista-- "because some days you need a double shot of faith!"

Lemon Verbena Lady --whether you pronounce it with or without the "h", this herb's for you.

My Square Foot Garden--fun and informative for gardening in small spaces.

Quiet Life--Donna writes about her family, her faith, and photography.  My three loves as well.

White Linen-- beautiful pictures and beautiful music. *sigh*

I hope I did ya proud, Jezamana!  And thank you again for your encouragement.  Hugs.

How We Spent Our Christmas Vacation (for Aunt Mellie)

In our family, you know you've arrived when you end up on Aunt Mellie's email list. She is one plugged-in, techno savvy, tree swinging, deep sea fishing, 80something lady. I wish we lived closer so we could visit more often.

Aunt Mellie expressed some interest in more Sprittle pictures from Christmas. I chronicled a little about our family fun here. But one can NEVER have too many Spritlepics!  (Proceed at your own risk.)

Our wee one, Baby Blues, celebrated his first birthday December 26th.

A second after that picture was taken, he was down on the floor threatening to demolish the Lego pirate ship of which his older brother, Boo, was so proud.  (That's his first mate, Bee, celebrating with him.  I think Dad was taking a nap after helping with the construction. The contents listed more pieces than there are dollar signs in the current US debt!)

Everyone participated in our first annual cookie decorating contest, Bee,

Boo,

and Baby Blues, who may not have had the fine motor skills to decorate, but was more than happy to help "clean up."

We had some fun time outside in the milder North Carolina weather,



an impromptu rock band session with Unca Dave and Bee sharing the drum solo, (I haven't a clue who that old lady is with the gray hair. Oh, wait--that's me!)



and Baby Blues' stirring rendition of "Jingle Bells."

And that's how we spent our Christmas vacation!

(Pictures and iPhone courtesy of Aunt Weezer. Mommo was too busy having fun with the Sprittles to take pictures!)

My Dear Professor's Birthday Cake

My Dear Professor's favorite cake is called Cake in the Pan. Don't ask me where the name came from. All I know is that a certain new bride accepted the "from scratch" recipe almost as solemnly as she uttered her wedding vows. It took me at least 10 years to master the secret of the icing--I think I copied the amount of milk down wrong!



It is a very rich combination of chocolate cake with chocolate fudge icing. The secret to its gooey deliciousness is to pour the topping over the warm cake just before the fudge begins to harden.



Here's the recipe:

MeMom's Cake in a Pan

Cake
2 1/2 c sugar
1 c shortening
1/4 tsp salt
2 eggs
2 tsp soda
1 tsp vanilla
2 1/2 c flour
1/3 c cocoa
1 c buttermilk
1 c boiling water.

Cream shortening with sugar, salt, eggs, soda. Add
cocoa. Add remaing ingredients, mixing in boling water
last. Pour into 9x13 inch pan and bake at 325*F for 45
minutes to an hour. (test by sticking a toothpick in the
middle. If the toothpick comes out clean, it is done.)

Icing
1/4 c cocoa
2 c sugar
2/3 c milk
1/2 c butter
1/4 tsp salt
tsp butter flavored vanilla

Melt butter in a saucepan on medium heat. Add sugar.
cocoa, salt. Add milk (I have used 1/4c to 1/3c
buttermilk or evaporated milk) Bring to a boil, stirring
constantly. Boil gently 2 minutes, or until it begins to
thicken. Remove from heat and beat in the vanilla.
Pour over warm cake.




I have used olive oil as the shortening, but if you want the full heart stopping, artery clogging effect, use butter instead. Need I even say there is no substitute for butter in the icing?

The ultimate flourish, of course, would be a dollop of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream on the side, but that will have to wait until we're down in Texas next summer.



Happy Birthday, Darlin'.

Leaning into Light

I noticed it early this evening. The fading sunlight lingered on the horizon just a moment. The dark of night held its breath a second longer.



Before Christmas we were leaning into the dark. Now we, all of us, are leaning into the light. Our spinning blue orb's axis is tilting toward the sun.


Toward the sun and away from the darkness.  Toward the spring and away from the winter. 

Toward the Truth and away from the Lie.

I heard in Addison's Walk a bird sing clear
This year the summer will come true this year, this year
Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees this year,
nor want of rain destroy the peas
This year time's nature will no more defeat you
nor all its promised moments in their passing cheat you
This time they will not lead you round and back
to Autumn one year older by the well worn track
This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell
we shall escape the circle and undo the spell
Often deceived yet open once again your heart

quick, quick, quick, quick,
the gates are drawn apart.

CS Lewis, "What the Bird Said Early in the Year"

Caught Up

(written October, 2009)

The leaves are falling as he takes his leave...our Wanderer, our Dreamer. The youngest of three, off to seek his fortune and future in the big city. His mother is conflicted...happy to see him go, sad to say goodbye. She holds her breath and her tears behind a smile, a wave.



An ending and a beginning.

The house seems quieter. Still. Her heart feels empty...and full. Her prayers are passionate. "Protect him", "Hold him", "Help him find his way."

A mother's hopes dash on the bow as he disappears from her sight. The launch is painful, but necessary.

We cannot control our children's futures. That is between them, their choices, and the God who pursues their hearts as He pursues ours. We can only love them and let them go.

May our wanderer choose well. . .and stop wandering long enough to be caught up in his Creator's everlasting arms.

The Frozen North

This is why I call the particular area of the country in which we currently reside the Frozen North. While our friends and family in the sunny southwest (Texas!) are enjoying temps in the 60s and 70s, this is what we are experiencing at Iron Acres.



After a few days of moderate temperatures (20-40 degrees F) referred to as the annual January thaw, and a day of blinding sunshine, the snow seems to be receding.

But this can still be found on my car in the morning,





or on the ground bordering our driveway,



along the highway at high noon,







or on the roof of a neighbor's house,



a church,



or in the local park.





(That mound in the middle hides a fountain.)




Yes, I realize that there are places more northerly and frigid than western PA, but for a body born and raised in Houston, Texas, this is as cold as I ever want to get.

Anyone for popsicles?

From the hidden...the edge...the tear...

In silence and solitude it waits. . .there in the dark, in the hidden.



Time is an endless burden that grows heavier.

Longing and despair meet. Nothing.

Then, almost imperceptibly, a small tearing along the edges.

 

Something that can wait no more pushes toward the light.

As it pushes, the tear grows. 



Color appears.  Then more waiting. 

The color grows, a form begins to take shape.



A glimpse of  what is to come.



The waiting is over.



Beauty emerges from the hidden...the dark... the longing... the despair...the edges...the tear.





With a full heart I offer my thanks to God for

54. the waiting alone in the dark      
55. the tearing along the edges
56. the painful pushing
57. the form that appears
58. the beauty that is revealed
59. the Christmas cactus that blooms in the dark of winter
60. contemplation
61. His strength in my weakness
62. unexpected gifts
63. unexpected joy
64.  hidden life
65.  simple things