To Everything a Season
May 12, 2008
Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. The music was particularly good with the BoDeans on the playlist. Oh, gosh, I love that song they sing called, "Good Things." I was singing it on the way out to the bus stop Monday morning. "Sunlight fall down on the fields / Sunlight fall down over me / Work all day, be all that I can be..." I guess I was singing a bit loud and maybe even dancing along the way because the kids shushed me. "Mom, the bus is coming. Knock it off."
Well, how do you like those beans. Sunday was Mother's Day and they were all lovey and "You're the Best Mom" and they helped with some housework and made a fine strawberry cake for me, with sour cream frosting and a big ol' heart made with those little red-hots. They made cards, too, and gave me a pile of gifts — chocolates, a bottle of wine, some handmade almond soap, and a set of three fancy knives for cutting meat. (Still no bubble machine, but there's always my birthday.) It was all so wonderful and I felt a bit of that mother-guilt when I took off to indulge myself in a few hours at the bookstore before we all went out for pizza and cheesecake and drove home as the sun set behind us and the frogs came out to sing. Such a perfect day.
So on Monday morning at the bus stop I was a bit surprised when they asked me to go back into the house before the bus came. "We're big enough to wait by ourselves...and sometimes you embarrass us." Well, how do you like that. I've nearly spent myself some mornings entertaining those kids at the bus stop. Re-enacting the first Olympics using sticks for javelins and showing them cheers from my days as captain of the cheerleading squad. Singing "Yes, Sir, That's My Baby" (choreography included) which won my high school show choir a first at state. Then there were the days I did jumping jacks until the bus showed up, and sometimes cartwheels as they climbed on. Doing the Moonwalk as the bus pulled away last Thursday was probably the last straw, and now that I think about it I suppose I did get a bit carried away on occasion, pretending I was Daniel Boone hiding in the bushes then coming out in my coonskin cap, waving a white surrender flag before the bus. Though I think bringing hot cinnamon rolls to everyone on the bus was a nice thing because not everyone has time for a warm breakfast. And bringing coffee to the busdriver? Maybe I didn't need to go all out with the stewardess uniform, and the sparklers on the final day of school last year were probably a bit much. So, to everything a season. It's been fun, but I suppose it's time the kids waited for the bus on their own.
I'll walk them out one last time tomorrow. I'll be good. I'll stand there and we'll talk about their day, and I'll make my way back to the house once the bus comes into sight. And when I do sing, I'll sing quietly. "Oh, my sweet darling someones, whom I do adore, / It's early morning, the bus is coming, who could ask for more? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa..."
Made a friend on a cruise a while back. Her name is Judy and she lives in Missouri, and she wrote to me recently, and included this very special recipe which has been a favorite of hers for more than fifty years. It's one of those hot summer day desserts that cools from the inside out. She first tried it way back in high school when the man who won her heart took her home to meet his parents. Her future mother-in-law served this refreshing treat, and it was so good, Judy had a second helping. And the rest is history.
Buttermilk Ice Cream
1/2 gallon buttermilk
1 cup sugar (can substitute Equal or Splenda)
1 20 oz. can crushed pineapple in juice (not syrup)
1 jar maraschino cherries and juice
In a large plastic container (a 9 x 13 carrier works well), mix buttermilk, sugar, crushed pineapple and juice. Halve the cherries and add them and juice to the mixture. Mix well, dissolving the sugar. Put in the freezer for about 5 hours. Take it out and mix it up. Continue freezing awhile and then mixing until you have an icy slush.
If this freezes overnight, it will be hard as cement. In that case, leave it on the counter at room temperature for 20 minutes or so and bash it all up with a spoon until it softens enough to eat. Microwaving briefly is an option.