Summer Reading — It’s Almost Here!
This time next week will be the very first day of Summer Vacation!
I’m just going to be completely honest here. I’m both excited and sad. My kids have had such a great year at school. They have wonderful teachers. We’ll miss the school and all their friends.
But.
Summer. I mean…SUMMER.
I can’t wait for days of sleeping in (a little) and lazy days (kind of). I’m excited for trips to Grand Haven and zoos and a vacation. I really want a summer without a tornado so we can enjoy some leisure time.
Most of all, I just want to have my kids with me for awhile. I miss them. I need to be around them so we can be silly together and have fun conversations.
And I really super can’t wait to read to them.
We are a reading family. Now all three of my kids can read by themselves, which is a joy to this mama’s heart. Still, I’m planning on reading to them.
Last summer we read through all of the Oz books (there are 14 of them). This summer we’re reading a bunch of stand-alones, some Newberry winners, and we’re starting the Harry Potter series (although, we’re only going to read #1 this summer…#2 if we really can’t wait to read more…but they other ones get a little scary for my smaller guys). And we’re going to dig into a Kids Devotion from Our Daily Bread (we won it on Jessie Clemence’s blog…Thanks, Jessie!).
Now, you may wonder why, if all my kids can read now, do I still want to read to them. Well, a few reasons.
1. They still like it! It’s fun! They ask me to read to them and beg me for one more chapter. I mean, why would I pass that up? That’s gold, my friends!
2. It’s so so so good for us! Kids who are read to have a higher level of literacy throughout their lives. They learn new words (which are above their reading level), grow to love books and the written word. They are exposed to real life situations in a safe atmosphere and with an adult (me) who can help them grapple with them. Oh, and it’s an excellent way to get them away from screens for a bit (TV can’t even come close to being as awesome as a book). Also, it’s such great together time.
I’ve not done everything right as a mom. I know that. I’ve messed up a lot. But I know that the time I’ve spent reading to my kids has been a good move. I cherish the time we have to explore books together.
We’re still putting together a reading bucket list for this summer. Any great recommendations?
Double The Coffee Because I NEED It
It’s Friday. There’s only one week left before school is out for the summer. Sweet mercies do exist.
This morning I’m blogging from my phone. Sorry for all the typos. But this is the only way I’m getting a blog done today.
And the only way I’m going to last through this day? Double the coffee.
And that’s okay.
I see your statuses. You’re all going through the ringer. End of the school year. Busy time at the office. Deadlines and projects and vacations, oh my!
Can we do something together? Can we be people who grant each other grace? Who dole out mercy? Because I think we could all use a big pile of “It’s all right” and “You’re doing great” and “No biggie”.
And coffee. We all need extra coffee.
Happy weekend, friends. We’re all gonna make it.
Selfies With Food — Goulash
Welcome to Selfies With Food, my new (hopefully) fun blog segment where I prepare, eat, and take selfies with Depression Era recipes. Why would I do such a thing? Because my novel A Cup of Dust is set in Depression Era Oklahoma. Also because I like food. And selfies. And food. Did I mention that already?
My Grandma Pearl was a Depression Era teen. She was all of 14 when the stock market crashed. The daughter of a single mother, my grandma had to learn how to survive in lean times.
She never stopped cooking up the wonderfully improvised dishes that were popular in the 1930s.
One of my very favorite meals Grandma Pearl tossed together was Goulash. When I think comfort food, I think of this, slow cooked and steamy hot.
Here’s what you need:
–3 or 4 medium carrots (don’t even think about using baby carrots…Grandma Pearl would question your sanity for paying extra for smaller sized carrots)
–1 or 2 onions (whatever you’ve got hanging out in the crisper)
–Lard (or oil…I used extra virgin olive oil…Grandma Pearl would have giggled about the virgin part)
–A couple cans of stewed tomatoes*
–A small can of tomato paste
–About a lb. of ground beef, browned
–Elbow macaroni (I used gluten free…Grandma Pearl would have told me to deal with the…ahem…gluten issues and buy the cheap stuff. Oh, Grandma)
–Salt and pepper to taste
–Feel free to add whatever else you’d like. Have green beans leftover from last night’s dinner? Toss ’em in! Got a potato eyeballing you? Chop up that bad boy and let him join the party. Have spaghetti sauce hanging out in the back of your pantry. By all means! Lighten your load. Depression Era cooking is all about using what you’ve got and making a meal stretch. Have fun.
Now that you’ve got your ingredients, it’s time to get cookin’, good lookin’!
Boil the pasta and set aside. Brown the meat (seasoned as you like). Set aside.
In a big old pot, sauté the onions and carrots (oh, dice them first, by the way) until they are softish (if you want to save time, use a can of carrot medallions). Add stewed tomatoes and tomato paste. Let them bubble. Add some spices if you’d like. If it seems like it’s getting dry, add a little broth.
When your veggies are soft, add the pasta and beef. Let them sit and simmer for as long as you like. The longer they simmer, the more the flavors mix and mingle. Give it a taste. If the tomatoes are a little too biting, add a pinch or two of sugar (to cut the acid). This is a good time to add a dash of salt or a smidge of garlic powder. Italian spices can also be a nice touch.
Stir every once in awhile to make sure nothing sticks to the bottom of your pot. Also, take a nibble to make sure everything tastes the way you want it to. Add salt, pepper, etc.
By this point, your house should be full of the simmering aroma of cooking comfort food.
Serve it up with your choice of veggies, a slice of bread with butter, and a cup of cold milk.
I made this for my family last week for the very first time. I hate to admit it, but it wasn’t anywhere near as good as Grandma 
Pearl’s. Then again, she’d been making it many years before I came along. Still, even after a first attempt, my kids gave it 5 out of 6 thumbs up. Not too bad.
Happy Eating!
*Grandma Pearl peeled and cut her tomatoes, letting them stew all day with the other ingredients rather than crack open a can. Good for you, Grandma. I’m a little too lazy for that.
NOTE: If you’ve got grated parmesan cheese, sprinkle a bit on top. It’s so good!
My Memorial Day
As a child I’d often climb up the creaking ladder to the stuffy old attic at my Grandma Riggs’s house. She had boxes of photos and treasures for me to dream over.
This picture was one of them.
That fellow in the blue? That’s my Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa. His name was Burritt Riggs and he was in the Union Army during the Civil War. During the battle at Monacacy, he was mortally wounded while attempting to save the life of another man.
On Memorial Day I think of him. I think of his wife, Hannah and how much of a blow his death must have been to her. I think ofmy Great-Great-Great Grandpa Adelbert (on the chair…yes, it’s a boy. Apparently toddlers all wore dresses then. And someone colored his dress pink.) and his older brother Seymour Riggs (the little man standing beside his father). How they grew up without their dad. I wonder how they found out. What happened in those days and weeks after the news. I wonder if Grandpa Adelbert could even understand. I know Uncle Seymour did.
It breaks my heart to think of their story. And it makes me proud at the same time.
Memorial Day is when we remember those who fell while in service to our country. As much as I hate war and wish we could have peace, I love those who serve us. And I want to honor those who have given their lives. I want to honor their families, too.
My way of doing that?
Remembering the days of sitting in the stuffy attic, looking at this photo. And remembering how proud it always made me to know that my Very Great Grandfather was a hero.
Selfies with the Stewed Tomatoes — Wait…What?
I don’t always pose for a selfie with food. But when I do, I make sure they’re ingredients for a Depression Era recipe.
No, really.
In case you didn’t get the memo, I have a novel releasing in October. The story is set in the fictional town of Red River, Oklahoma in 1934. It’s a Depression Era novel.
It’s called A Cup of Dust, just so you know.
This, my friends, is a departure for me. I’m leaving the Contemporary Women’s Fiction genre and moving along to Historical. I could NOT be happier about it.
In poking around the blogs of other historical fiction writers, I found that many of them post recipes on their blogs. I thought, “That could be fun”. Then I thought, “It would be even more fun if I was a total goofball about it.”
Thus, selfies with food.
Don’t worry. It won’t be all about onions and baked beans. In fact, I won’t always blog about food. I’m planning on treating you with what the kids these days call the “life hacks” which Depression Era folks called “living” or “surviving” or “tightening the belt”. There will be music. Fashion. Weird and Wild history from the period.
It’s going to be fun. And I hope you’ll come along for the ride.
I promise, I’ll hold off on the selfies of me eating.
Or maybe not.
Stayed tuned for the first installment on Wednesday (because Monday is Memorial Day and nobody’s going to be reading my blog that day). I’ll be cooking up comfort food.
See you then!
To Be Yourself
About 15 years ago I got my very first office job. Being a day-dreamy, often distracted creative type, I am not naturally suited for employment where time management, organizational skills, and general responsibility are parts of the job description.
But I needed the cash-o-la. So…I thought I’d just fake my way through it.
On my first day I wore business-ish clothes. I nodded during my training, not sure of a single word that the manager had said. I said, “Yeah, I can do that” more times than I remember (they were all lies).
And…um…I didn’t correct her when she called me Susan all day. In fact, I didn’t correct her for over a month. It was the only time in my whole life when I thought I’d have to switch to my proper name because I felt too scared to tell her that I preferred to be called Susie.
She was a little overwhelming. And scary. Super scary.
The problem was I didn’t respond to being called Susan. She’d yell at me, clap her scary hands in my face, and scream, “Susan! Are you deaf?”
I’m still a little afraid of her.
Anyway, one day, someone noticed that I wrote “Susie” on paperwork I’d done. He spread the news that I liked that name better.
Everyone used my preferred name. That is, everyone but the manager.
“But the name Susan is so much more professional. Don’t you want to be professional? Susie sounds like a little girl,” she said.
It was a moment for me to choose. Do I go with what she thought I should be? Professional Susan. Or would I stay true to who I really am? Just me Susie.
I chose to be myself. Well, as far as my name went, at least. That job? It wasn’t so much made for me. I, in fact, was horrible at the job. When I got laid off after 11 months I was so relieved.
Leaving that place was just one more step on my journey to being me. The me God made. The me who is a little forgetful (because I’m daydreaming about my imaginary friends). The me who sees the world in story. The me who delights in house finches and interesting people and listening to my kids read.
I’m Susie. I’m a little different. A bit zany. Sometimes over-sharing and over-asking. There are days when I don’t even make sense to myself and I’m learning to be okay with that.
You, my friend, are you.
You are wonderful and important. You have a unique purpose in this life. Don’t let anyone (ANYONE, do you hear me?) squish out the person God formed you to be.
Being yourself isn’t just about being who you want to be…
It’s about being who God intends for you to be.
There is nothing more beautiful than that.
*Hi! I just wanted to let you know that I’m setting up a newsletter to deliver info regarding the release of A Cup of Dust. I PROMISE, I won’t send out many email newsletters (I mean, that would be annoying, right?). If you’d like to receive very occasional email newsletters from me, please click HERE and fill out the “Send an email to Susie” form with the word NEWSLETTER in the comment box. Thanks so, so, so, so much!
Why Writers Need to Stick Together — a guest post by Rachel E. Watson
Sometimes, writing can be a lonesome life. I am not often lonely (starved for stimulation), but in the past, I often felt lonesome (isolated from like-minded souls).
Any calling that, by definition, requires intense concentration, solitude and time submerged in another world, can make us feel lonesome. Especially writing. Fiction writers must submerge themselves in the thoughts and feelings of their characters. Nonfiction writers must focus hard on delivering their message in an engaging way. Poets must always tap into the music of life.
I write in all three forms. And it can be draining — if I let myself become unbalanced and lonesome.
There are those of us in this writing life, myself included, who have learned The Hard Way that we must not walk this path alone anymore.
I all but gave up on my calling for three years during a time when I was feeling isolated and burdened by life’s cares. If I could go back and comfort my 25-year-old self, I would say, “Rachel, you are not alone. Reach out and seek the beautiful souls around you.”
I am now one of those blessed folks who is no longer alone. For this, I thank the Grand Rapids writing communities of Jot and Breathe. And I thank Susie Finkbeiner, author of this blog and possessor of a beautiful soul.
I am lucky beyond my just desserts to have found these folks. I owe them a great, big, fat debt.
About these other writers
Do you want to connect with and read the work of these wonderful people? Good. Here are the blogs/websites of a few of Jot and Breathe’s most influential writers — meaning, the ones who have helped me, personally, the most: * Susie Finkbeiner, your friend who writes this blog. She is caring, talented and generous with her time in the way she comments and engages online. Plus, she lets me write for her. What could be better? * Cynthia Beach, professor of writing at Cornerstone University, creativity coach, and fiction writer/novelist. * Matthew Landrum, poet and poetry editor at Structo Magazine. * Andrew Rogers, short story writer and acquisitions editor at Discovery House. * Josh Mosey, PROLIFIC blogger and fiction writer. * David Landrum, writing polymath, like me, who also shares insights generously. * Deborah King, blogger and young-adult fiction writer, with whom I am in the process of starting a Grand Rapids writers group for people in our stage of the writing life. * Melanie S. Pickett, blogger, essayist and nonfiction writer with a passion.
A hearty ‘thank you’
I could keep going for miles, but I don’t want to overwhelm you with new faces, if you’re not already connected to these kindred spirits.
The biggest thing I have gained from these relationships is their continued online presence and willingness to engage with me. These traits have positively shaped the course of my self-expression in the past six months. I would not be submitting work today if not for all of them.
What are you waiting for?
If you aren’t connected to a local writing community, what would you say is holding you back? Is there a step you could take in the next month to overcome that obstacle? I would love to hear a bit of your story, and I promise I will monitor this thread and respond to you.
Rachel E. Watson, Cornerstone University ’09, is a Grand Rapids author who is taking a cue from Toni Morrison and writing what she wants to read. This includes fiction, poetry, and reviews on her website, RachelEWatson.com. Her debut poems will appear in the May 2015 issue of Indiana Voice Journal, and her first short story will be published by Splickety Lightning Blog, a flash-fiction outlet. Her nonfiction work has been published in The Grand Rapids Press; Campus Voices: A Student-to-Student Guide to College Life; Feathers & Leaves 2009: A Publication of the Cornerstone University English Society; and The Daily News in Greenville, Michigan. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook.
Inspiring Wonder
Have you ever watched birds? I mean really watched them?
I don’t know why, but over the last year I’ve become distracted by birds. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older and the flashy, loud things don’t call to me as much anymore. I’m more intrigued by the chirping, fluttering, nesting critters.
They inspire my wonder.
This year the Breathe Christian Writers Conference theme is “Awaken Your Wonder”. I’m on the planning committee for this conference and have been pondering the word “wonder” since we decided on the theme.
As I think on it, I realize that wonder is often lost in the mix between going here and there and doing this and that. I mean, May, my friends. May. Isn’t it the busiest month?
But it’s also a month which is full of wonder. Blooming irises. Budding lilacs. Nests full of eggs. Longer days and vibrant sunsets.
As a writer, wonder is another tool in my box. It’s an important one. Essential, even.
Today, I need to remember to awaken my wonder.
It’s just a matter of being intentional.
(NOTE: if you’re a writer, I’d encourage you to think about coming to Breathe. Two days of inspiring workshops, keynote presentations, new friends, encouragement, COFFEE!!!!!!! Now until July 31 the earlybird rate is $130. I’d love to see you there! Register Here.)
Out of Order
The last week or so I’ve been walking around in some kind of a daze. I have 3 deadlines (two of which were moved up by a good bit, but for good reasons). I’m editing, writing, preparing for 2 speaking engagements this weekend, blogging, mommy-ing, wifing. You know. Life.
Not complaining. Not trying to make it seem like I’m busier than you. I’m not. You’re busy, too. Everybody is. Right?
I do, however, feel like I need to wear a sign around my neck that reads “Sorry, out of order”. That’s kind of how I feel right now. I can edit, I can write, I can snuggle my kids and smooch my hubby (ooo, la la)…but anything outside of that? Yeah. Not happening right now.
That’s okay. That’s okay. That’s okay. (I’m repeating that to myself at this moment because I REALLY need to believe it).
Also, I’d really like it if you believed it of yourself, too.
So, in this busy time of Manic May (seriously…everything is scheduled in May), it’s okay to put up that “Out of Order” sign. It is. Take a little time to rest, chill, veg. Treat yourself to watching a little T.V. or reading a good book. Go for a walk and breathe in the Spring air, even if it means the laundry doesn’t get folded.
Take care of yourself. Take care of the people you love by relaxing a bit.
Oh. And if you see me around and I’m acting a little…ahem…out of it, don’t worry. I’m fine. And, as I’m raving wildly about commas and semi-colons, just smile and pat me on the arm. Then, hand me a cup of coffee and I’ll be all right.
When You’re Weary, Feeling Small
Last July a tornado hit our neighborhood. One of the casualties? Our swing set. It’s all right. It was rusty and rocked a bit too much when our daughter got to swinging. The kids had outgrown it. So, we got a bigger one. A much bigger one.
The cross bar is 10 feet in the air. Not a joke. Once my husband had it constructed, I thought I should swing for a minute or two.
“I feel small!” I giggled. “My feet don’t touch the ground!”
There’s just something about knowing that something is bigger than you, right?
I felt that way another time last week.
I’m about to be honest here. It’s not the prettiest side of me, but it’s true and I think sometimes we need to share the ugly every once in awhile. Just don’t think less of me, all right?
I don’t win things. Sure, every once in awhile I can trick the carnival dude who’s guessing people’s ages (thanks for the good genes, Mom). Sometimes I even win a blog give-away. But when it comes to competing I usually don’t come close to the prize.
I’m not a competitive person, so it isn’t about winning. It’s about affirmation.
Well, last week I found out that I didn’t final in a book competition for My Mother’s Chamomile. One of my friends did make the short list of finalists and I’m over the moon for him (Congrats, Zach Bartels, Playing Saint deserves to be on the list).
I have to admit, I pouted. I nursed hurt feelings. Now, I didn’t look at the books that did final in my category with bitterness. Not at all. I’m sure those books are stellar.
I just felt left out.
Like when the cool girl in elementary school had a sleep over and an invitation never comes to my house.
You know that feeling. Right? Please tell me you know.
You know how I felt? Small.
Pathetic.
Less than.
You know what song I have loved all my life? Bridge Over Troubled Water. It makes me cry. It reminds me of my childhood, listening to the Simon and Garfunkel Concert in Central Park record. I remember the way my mom sang along. And I remember the very first line resonating with me when I was little.
“When you’re weary, felling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
I’m on your side when times get rough
And friends just can’t be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.”
That day I was disappointed, so I turned to two of the people who I knew would encourage me. I admitted how I felt and they lifted me up. I acted like a punk and they endured it (thanks, hubby).
At church we’re in a series about the “Power of a Compassionate Community”. Our pastor Jeff Manion asks each week, “Who are you looking out for?”.
Well, I’ll tell you what, I know who’s looking out for me and how good it feels to have people who care.
It makes me feel big enough to lay down my life for someone else. It inspires me to make sure I’m looking out for somebody else.
(Hey! Remember last week? I did a give-away here of Jocelyn Green’s book? Well, Joanne Sher is the winner! Hooray!)
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