Passing the Silver Baton

Polishing silverware is therapeutic. The task is menial, yet it is conducive to reflection and that is always good, especially at holidays. My mind drifts to how lovely my mother-in-law’s table looked at Christmastime. Stella had classy taste. Her tablecloths were expensive and complimented her china. But what always impressed me was her silverware. I inherited it while still a very young mother. I learned, along with my young daughters, how to care for it and how to set a table properly with it. It became not only a keepsake, but a tradition in our family.

Through the years, our daughter, Carrie, never complained when I asked her to polish the silverware. Even through high school and college, she was faithful to provide polished and cleaned table settings of the “First Love” pattern at each plate. About five years ago, Carrie announced that she had first dibs on grandmother’s silverware. I was shocked. She didn’t hate it! She loved it like me! Oh, I can see her setting her own table with it in the future and teaching Susanna how to polish silver! Life is funny that way planting little surprises that find their way trickling through each generation.

My family will start arriving tomorrow and by Friday evening we will all be here to celebrate Christmas. My homemade Manicotti is defrosting along with my brother-in-law’s sauce recipe and side dishes of meatballs and Sweet Italian Sausage which we’ll serve with a tossed green salad. Of course we’ll eat it with polished silver!

The Venomous Intruder

It’s the middle of rattlesnake season here on the ranch. The local news anchor confirmed it. I’ve seen two already. While driving along our dirt road yesterday, I mistook a virulent enemy for a branch. I backed up the car, looked again and noticed the branch shifted revealing a rattle at its end. At one of our road association meetings in the barn, Shelby stood up and shouted, “ BOB !” to my next door neighbor. He’s our vice president and the one all eyes were on as he gave a presentation in the middle of the room. I sensed fear in the way she yelled his name. I learned after the meeting that Shelby called out to him like that because she saw a rattler slither in the barn door where she and I sat. Bob yielded to the interruption and quietly dispatched the enemy. Ten minutes later, this tough guy was back to center stage falling right back in step with the business at hand. Bob is my new best friend. ...

Let's Live Together

I took a Ziploc bag of frozen pork chops out of the freezer and set them in the refrigerator to thaw. I decided to make one of my favorite crock pot recipes with them. I threatened the husband with a black eye if he ate the last of the sour cream because I needed it for that simple recipe. The next day, I carried my crock pot to my island in the kitchen and mixed the sour cream with an envelope of onion soup mix and decided to rinse the defrosted meat at the sink before adding to my recipe. Then I noticed something. They weren’t pork chops. To my surprise, I witnessed defrosted chicken thighs. Very big chicken thighs; it must have been a hippy chicken. The freezer bag’s label read Dec. ’15 in the husband’s writing. I assumed it contained pork chops. I was wrong. Write it like a man. Thinking like a man would think, he probably guessed that any fool could see these are chicken thighs when he placed them in a clear gal...

Marriage Tip #44: Do What He Wants

I thought about our upcoming anniversary. I prayed one morning for the marriages in my family, and a sentence about my own dropped in my spirit: “ Do What He Wants .” I paused, “Really?” He’s his own man. What if I end up in the wilderness camping by night and target shooting by day? What if a coyote decides to have me as a late night snack? We celebrated our anniversary early this year, Before the kids come next week. And we did it his way . This is how it happened. I never asked him about a plan or even mentioned our day. I remember how it all unfolded at the roundabout just as we drove into Sedona. He asked me if I would like to go to a baseball game. I responded excitedly, “Yeah!” Before the day was over, he purchased tickets for a Diamondbacks home game. He printed them out. He booked a hotel room so we wouldn’t have to drive home from the city after the late evening game. ...

Choose Joy in the Journey

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