Infused with Sunshine

Grow what you love. The love will keep it growing. 

~Emilie Barnes

With happy fingers I plucked tomatoes from the vine.  My feet danced a snazzy jig and off I rushed to pull up the onions. Ponytail sagging over my left shoulder, I gave it a little toss and snipped away at the fresh oregano and basil.  

It was salsa making day and I had to gather the ingredients.

When I say "gather the ingredients" I secretly smile- no lies here.  This shopping spree took place on our little patio (with some banana peppers and jalapenos from my sweet mama).  I never, ever get to shop in my own corner of the world, so imagine my sheer joy when I realized that I had grown enough produce and herbs to make and preserve an entire batch of salsa.

Big. Proud. Grin.

Honestly, I'm still amazed that it worked out.  I mean, I really did it!  I really grew an entire garden full of ripe red tomatoes, crunchy bell peppers, flavorful onions, and spicy banana peppers and jalapenos.  In some small way, it proved such a joy to see it come to fruition.  

With the harvest gathered I packed it away and headed across the lawn and over the fence to my parents' house.  My mom and I had a salsa making date and I wasn't missing it for the world.

We pre-gamed with a good cup of hot java, read over the recipe, checked out our impressive stash of veggies and herbs, and took stock of the situation.

She pulled out her canning equipment, we discussed how it would work, and then set about chopping and chopping, slicing and dicing.

Thankfully, my mama chopped the tomatoes, removing every one of those pesky little skins.

She's a trooper and a master of all things kitchen.

I preferred dealing with the peppers and onions and garlic-- more aromatic and completely worth the watery eyes.

After much preparation, which included boiling jars and sealing lids, our "Sunshine Salsa," as we chose to call it, emerged from the cooker and our hard work was complete.

 My mama and I had ourselves the most wonderful time: talking, daydreaming, and admiring our hard work.

I'm beyond blessed to have such a special person in my life. I can't imagine learning from and with anyone else.

Now we're all eagerly awaiting football season.  

There's something about a salty corn chip, a scoop of summertime, sunshine salsa, and Sunday afternoon Steelers victories.

Ace Kaufman, My Dad

"My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me."

~ Jim Valvano

 

Fathers' Day- That lovely day, on a bright summer afternoon, to honor the amazing man who no matter how old you get still occasionally fills your car with gas, brings you a Starbucks, and reminds you about silly things like slipping on the ice.

A little patio picnic hardly seems enough to thank the man who has been my friend/support system/savings and loan department for the last 30 years.  But he, like myself, appreciates a good meal, so a hearty meal I whipped up.

When I think back on times with my father, so many of them involve a gut-busting laugh or some kind of cynical behavior.  One of my earliest (and most favorite) memories involves a math test during first grade. 

Happy sigh, sly grin.  

Do you remember those lovely timed (4 minute) tests that had 10 rows of 10 addition problems?  

I do.  I always will.

Truthfully, the entire addition concept didn't prove too difficult for me.  In fact, I don't think I ever left a single test unfinished.  However, no matter how many times we took those blasted tests, I missed the same problem-- over and over and over again.  And, as it goes, the problem usually popped up three or four times over the course of the 100 problems.  Therefore, out of 100 problems, I'd consistently score a 97 or 96.

Well, that just didn't cut it with me.  My seven-year-old, pig-tailed self would become downright distraught over my erroneous ways and I would continually make my parents practice flashcards with me until I convinced myself that I could earn a perfect score.  

You see where this is going, right? (I can tell you are on the edge of your seat.)

Miss Shockey would pass out the timed tests.  I'd proudly take out my sharpened pencil and adjust my arm so that my nosy seat partner couldn't copy my correct answers and I'd sit somewhat patiently, waiting for her instructions.  I'd sit there, with my test upside down, fingers gripping the corner, anticipating the very second when she said, "You may begin.  You have 4 minutes."

With lightening speed I'd flip that test over.  Rush, rush, rush I'd go, neatly answering problem after problem.

Then, when all 100 problems were finished I flipped my test over (that nosy seat partner, again) and wait for her to announce, "Time's up!"

Those school days seemed like forever as I waited for the return of my test.  Just when I thought I might die- seriously- Miss Shockey would pass out our take-home folders and review the day's learning and activities.  "Blah, blah, blah," I remember thinking.  "Just give me that math test, already."

It never failed.  96/100.

That night, as we ate dinner, my dad looked over my test and congratulated me on a wonderful job.  And then he said the one sentence that I will never, ever forget.  "Cathy, 4+5=9, damn it!" 

He was joking, of course, but for some reason I just thought that was the funniest thing ever.  I laughed and laughed and the more I laughed, the more he said it.  

I never, ever missed that problem again.  And to this day, every time I see the combination of 4 and 5, his voice plays in my mind.  

Thanks, Dad.  Thank you for everything.  I'm so lucky to have you.

Important Blessings

"God could not be everywhere and therefore he made mothers."  

~Jewish Proverb

Without a doubt, one of the biggest blessings that Chad-o and I have are our mothers.

They are, simply put, quite wonderful.

I truly believe that God chose the women he did to be mothers for us, because, to be honest, it's the perfect match-up. 

These amazing women continue to serve as examples of strength and wisdom, beauty and grace.

And because we are so blessed by them, I wanted to honor them with a handmade treat on Mother's Day.  

Jossie and Linda, we are so very thankful for you.

"And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count.  It's the life in your years."

~Abraham Lincoln

  

Happy, happy Birthday.

And so it was Christmas.

"Christmas is not a time or a season, but a state of mind.  To cherish peace and good will, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas."

~ Calvin Coolidge

Enjoy a few moments of our Christmas celebration.

The Kaufman House, 2011

As you can see, Christmas was merry and bright.

I Blame Her

"Each day comes bearing its own gifts. Untie the ribbons."

~Ruth Ann Schabacker

I'm just going to go ahead and blame this one on my mother.  Without realizing it, she instilled in me the idea that "presentation is everything".  Trust me, I have a lifetime of holidays and birthdays and special occasions to pull from.  

I vividly remember her picking out the perfect wrapping paper and painstakingly choosing the proper ribbons and embellishments. Embellishments--pfft...most people don't go any farther than a stick-on bow.  

Ahh, but then there is my sweet, creative, artistic mother.  Her packages and presents always seemed like they should grace the floor of Santa's workshop or be overflowing from a winter wonderland display at Nordstrom.  

Seriously, we're talking amazing wrapping perfection.  

Perfectly folded corners.  Perfectly tied ribbons.  Perfectly formed bows.  

Perfect color coordination.

I remember her converting our kitchen table into gift-wrap central.  She would wrap and I would sit, watch and talk to her.  So quick and easy she made it appear.  So-- big shocker-- all of her perfection and creativity had me wanting to be just like her. 

Therefore, from a very young age, I wrapped all of my own presents, trying with my clumsy fingers to emulate her crisp folds and perfect knots.  I even purchased my own wrapping supplies in an attempt to keep up with the ever-so-high wrapping standard.

Now I'm kind of a wrapping paper, "presentation is everything" fanatic.  I'll admit that I am completely against gift bags, except for when the gift inside is all wrapped in a coordinating paper.  Sad, very sad, but true.

Also, I have this crazy philosophy about the wrapping being part of the gift.  I believe it says, "I put thought into this.  I went the extra mile to make you feel special."

Most of my wrapping has been finished for awhile now.  However, this afternoon I finished up some last minute details.  I tied the final bow and crisped the last corner.

Welcome, Christmas.  We're officially ready for you.