The View From Mrs. Sundberg's Window
It will stop, I promise
September 14, 2009
Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. Now that the kids are in school I've been able to calm down a bit and take stock of things. It's not just school starting, though, that has me in that mode: my age went up a year this month and that tends to get one thinkin'. There's a quote I read recently, written by a man named Paul Zimmer. "Pay attention to what you take for granted," he wrote. It's common sense, really. But it must take a special kind of energy or awareness or something, because it seems we forget pretty regularly and end up taking things for granted. It's inevitable. I haven't got the energy to pay attention constantly. I mean, come on.
So then the other day Mr. Sundberg builds a campfire so the kids could burn their old homework from last year and one of the kids fuels it with an armful or two of sticks and leaves and what seem to be weeds but is actually poison ivy. And then stands there awhile as smoke billows up out of the fire, smoke laden with whatever bears the nasty poison of that particular ivy plant, and that poison makes its way across my child's skin, over her eyelids, down her cheeks and neck and arms and legs. The next day, she's red and swollen and itching and in pain. Oozing pain. As I dab on the calamine lotion, I think about her beautiful, soft skin, and her bright blue eyes. I remember her smile and the curve of her jaw as she throws her head back in laughter, and how her curly hair bounces on her shoulder. She is trying not to cry. "When will it stop?" Going to be a while, Honey, I tell her. You did a number on yourself. But it will stop, I promise.
Now, I didn't need that whole poison ivy encounter to take place in order for me to appreciate my daughter's smile. Surely not. Perhaps what I needed, though, was that short time with her and a bottle of lotion. Longer than a pause and shorter than a while. Enough time for attention to collect its due. Enough time to notice what was missing.
Scalloped Potatoes, the Good Ol' Way
Here's one from my childhood, a real comfort food. My mother sometimes threw a layer of leftover cooked ham in the middle, and often served ham on the side.
3 T butter
2 T flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
3 cups milk
6 medium potatoes, pared and thinly sliced (about six cups)
2 T chopped onion
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 2 qt casserole. Make a basic white sauce using the butter, flour, salt, pepper & milk. Melt the butter and add the flour, salt and pepper. Add milk and stir over medium heat until thick. Set aside. Wash, peel, and thinly slice (width-wise) potatoes. Place half the potatoes in casserole. Cover with about half the onion and half the white sauce. Repeat layers. Cover and bake 60-70 minutes. Test with fork to make sure potatoes are almost tender. Uncover and bake another 30 minutes.
Feeds 4 hungry people, so you may want to double it.
Enjoy!
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The View From Mrs. Sundberg's Window Archive
- Tenderness and lightheartedness
- The storm is coming
- Alive in the best way
- A gentle spirit and good soul
- Don't want to miss no more
- Just the kind of day for hard work
- Nice to have a place
- I see the woman winning
- A mood affecting the body
- From there to here
- Nostalgia's door is flung wide open
- Toward the Next Thing
- The Big Cry
- Take some time and spend it
- The sleeper must awaken
- Patience brings good things
- The world is full of adventure
- Something to be said for the moment
- The land of Heat
- Gifts for the good life
- Work is like air
- One fine afternoon out there in the park
- To life and to Onward and to the rain pouring down
- Memory is such a blessed thing
- So many ways of looking at a thing
- The rhubarb capital of Minnesota
- Today light shines on it all
- All kinds of things worthy of mention
- Mother's Day Adventure
- Life is as sweet as it is difficult
- A lovely meal for a lovely girl
- The feeling of being sated, in mind and body
- Keeping a little mystery in life
- Here's to spring, yours and mine
- Naps, for me, are a dream in themselves
- One Free Day
- A sweet reward after finishing our taxes
- Seems I was the perp in what he called "a hit and run" at the pastry shop
- Fresh out of cough drops
- Dumped on
- Salt of the Month Club
- Valentine's Day Kisses
- A candle to light for someone you love, or for yourself, even.
- Nothing like fresh air to give a person a sense of well-being.
- Washing machine coma.
- Something about January
- I've always been a proponent of living in the moment
- I've been up to my ears in gift wrapping and baking
- Nothing like having a ton of snow dumped on you out of the blue.
- It's the time of year when the kids tend to hover a bit.
- Got distracted by a recipe for spritz cookies, and that led to a grilled cheese sandwich and then five grilled cheese sandwiches.
- I do turn in a bit earlier on November nights, especially after days like Saturday when I work my tail end off.
- There's nothing like the first big snow of the season
- Life is such a wild trip.
- I was born optimistic
- Something about wind has always had an effect on me
- I was the naughtiest girl in third grade
- Your skin crackles in the gold of the setting sun
- That's why we have hot baths, hot dish, hugs and naps
- Worms. Hundreds of them.
- It's always a big question this time of year, about pumpkins, that is
- It's a challenge, for us, yes, a kind of thrill, even
- Here's to the bright side and to pencil sharpeners that work
- A person ought to do a bit of reflecting
- Smiles on their faces and their own stories to tell
- Living in the Moment
- The heat rises up like some kind of wild creature
- Sounds like a good time to me
- I put on some music for waltzing
- A party isn't necessarily festive or wild
- A Postcard from Mrs. Sundberg
- You stand there looking at each other, memorizing each other's face
- Free to Get Done What Needs Doin'
- You don't want any scars, stay home and watch TV
- And that's when they tell me things
Complete The View From Mrs. Sundberg's Window Archive
