Baking Pies

The Bake Sale Table - yum!

Today, I'm being bad...but good.  I'm skipping church, but I'm making up for it by doing two things:  Sleep in late (hey, it's supposed to be a day of rest!), and baking pies for the Holiday Fair that's coming up on November 5th.   It's a marvelous Holiday Fair, and I absolutely love it.  Everything's all decorated and people are cheerful and friendly, the children are excited, because it all says Christmas is coming in not too long from now.  I love it because of the happy vibes, and because the proceeds go to help the community in the form of donations to homeless shelters, orphanages, and so on.  In the past, we've donated to the Domestic Abuse Women's Network,  to Hope for the Children of Africa, and many more.  This year, it's to benefit two charities, Fusion and Ramps.

Quilts!  Christmas Decorations!  Paddle Thingies!

The pies?  They'll be apple pies.  I mean the genuine Federal Way United Methodist Women's apple pie recipe, with the lovely flakey light-brown crust and the luscious abundant apple filling inside.  I did not know how to make good pie crust before I went to this church.  However, I volunteered at their pie-bake session and learned The Secret, which I will not reveal here, because, hey, it's a secret!

Well, not really a secret, because it's in their church cookbook, which I believe is also on sale.  So if you want to know what the secret to good pie crust is, you have to buy the cookbook.  I promise to post pictures here once I get the pies done. You will then see the lusciousness that is the Traditional Federal Way United Methodist Women's apple pie.

I may also make some peach pies, and berry pies.  I'll have to see what I've stored in the freezer.  In the coming days, I'll probably make some cookies as well.  Yep, I'll be a baking fool!

Scrubbie!

What else is at the Holiday Fair?  Oh, lovely, lovely hand-crafted items.  Jewelry, knitted and crocheted things, including the homely, yet famous Scrubbies!  Yes, those round crocheted things made of net, that are the perfect things to scrub non-stick pans with!  Or anything else, for that matter.  You can stick them on the upper rack of your dishwasher on one of the prongs and wash--and sanitize--them that way.  Or, you can toss in the washing machine and dryer.

Come visit!  I'll be there.  You can find the church here:


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Yes, yes, I'm going against my policy of verboten mention of Christmas before Thanksgiving (before it's even Halloween, for heaven's sake, and I won't go into a rant about how stores do this), but this is the Holiday Fair and it is one of my favorite events of the year.  :-)

Trusting Abundance

One of the most steadfast people I know is my Army mechanic brother Allen.  If he gives you his word, he will stubbornly keep it, even if it means he'd have to travel the world to do it.  He may not do it right away, but he will do his utmost to do it as soon as it is humanly possible. He is also eccentric and has a very quirky sense of humor, but that's rather typical of my side of the family. 

How to make a kiwotsukete kit (also known as the UMCOR health kit)

"Kiwotsukete" means "take care!" in Japanese. 

My niece Erika has a lot of friends in Japan, and many of them want to help their fellow citizens in the aftermath of the terrible earthquake and tsunami.  She suggested that they put together a clothing and food drive, which is a great idea.  You go, Erika!  :-)

What I'd also like to suggest is putting together what I call a "kiwotsukete kit"--or, as the United Methodist Committee on Relief call it, a "health kit."

It doesn't take much--even people who don't have much themselves can make up a kit. You can get these things at a dollar store.  But they are essential items that people need to keep up their health and help keep sanitary in disaster areas.  Even in a clean-conscious society as Japan, in a disaster of this kind, the badly affected areas are going to be highly susceptible to diseases because people's basic washing supplies have been destroyed.  Food and clothes are great, but what donors often don't realize is that keeping clean means prevention of disease that is rife after such disasters.  So, if anyone is interested, here is how to make a "kiwotsukete kit":

You need to get one gallon zip-lock bags.  In each one, put the following items:

1 hand towel 15" x 25" (38 cm x 63 cm) up to 17" x 27" (43 cm x 68 cm)
1 wash cloth
1 comb (large and sturdy, not pocket-sized)
1 nail file or fingernail clippers (no emery boards or toenail clippers)
1 bath-sized bar of soap (3 oz and up, still in original wrapper or box)
1 toothbrush (single brushes only in original wrapper or box)
1 large tube of toothpaste (expiration date must be longer than 6 months)
6 adhesive plastic strip sterile bandages

Lay out the hand towel flat on a table. Lay the washcloth flat in the center of the hand towel. Place all remaining items on top of the wash cloth. Fold over the sides of the hand towel to cover all of the items. Fold over one end of the hand towel so that it covers all of the items. Grasp the bundle of items tightly and roll over the remainder of the hand towel tightly. Place the tightly rolled bundle in the plastic bag. Remove as much air as possible and seal the bag.

For those who are living in Japan and want to make these kits, it probably wouldn't hurt to include one or two small bottles of hand-sanitizer, too (the kind you can take on airplanes).

If you're in the U.S. and want to send these kits to Japan, you can send them with $1 tucked in an envelope for processing.  The instructions for putting together the health kit above is not complete for those sending from the U.S., so please go to this web site for more complete instructions:

http://new.gbgm-umc.org/umcor/getconnected/supplies/health-kit/

Send them to one of the following address of the United Methodist Committee on Relief (do NOT put any messages in these packages, because they'll have to be removed to comply with--I think--federal regulations):


UMCOR Sager Brown Depot
P.O Box 850 131 Sager Brown Road
Baldwin, LA 70514-0850
Contact For Help: 1-800-814-8765

UMCOR West Office and Depot
1479 South 700 West
Salt Lake City, UT 84104-1605
 Contact for Help: 1-801-973-7250

Use whichever address is closest to you.

Church folk send these kits to UMCOR all the time so that they have them ready when disaster strikes.  But they always get dangerously low when there's a disaster, so they can always use more.  These kits really help keep people healthy and alive in the aftermath of a disaster.

If you want to donate money instead, 100% of any funds given to UMCOR go to relief aid (the administrative costs are paid for by church members).  You can do so directly at this web site:

http://new.gbgm-umc.org/umcor/

Put a little love in your heart

"Think of your fellow man
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little love in your heart....

And the world will be a better place..."

Enough of feeling down and despairing! It's time to get down and get to work!

I was reminded of this, when the old hippie flower-child song above (written by Jimmy Holiday, Randy Myers, and Jackie DeShannon) was played in church today, and I remember when I heard this as a kid back in 1969 on the morning radio before I went to school. My mom was a classical music fan, my dad was all jazz and big band sound, and had just a bit of suspicion about that weird hippie stuff, but they could totally get behind this song, because they believed in what it had to say down to their bones. My dad invited, every year, a couple of young sailors who were far away from home to our Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, because he thought was terrible that young kids like that would not be with family during the holidays. And my mom--good heavens. I swear I have to make an appointment to see her these days because of her very full volunteer schedule (I will boast: she won Pierce County Volunteer of the Year award for 2000, and this year won the Outstanding Volunteer award).

So, when "Put a Little Love in Your Heart" came on the radio in 1969, my folks said we could listen to that kind of music all we wanted. There is everything right with having love in your heart and helping out people in need, whether here or abroad.

It's September now, and the summer heat is giving way to cold rain here in the Pacific North"wet." I love this time of year, when the leaves turn to red and gold, when fresh ripe apples are crisp and sweet in one's mouth, when curling up underneath a blanket with your loved ones is especially cuddly, and--of course---when the love of yarn turns to an orgy of fiber-addiction.

The great thing about this, however, is that if you have a great deal of yarn, or can't help adding to your stash, you can tell yourself that not only are you going to make your loved ones all warm and loving-cuddly with the products of your knitting (or crocheting) prowess, but you are going to spread that fiber-love to the world.

I once Tweeted that "I firmly believe that if everyone took time to knit, crochet, or do some kind of constructive hand craft, we would have World Peace." It was somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but I am proud to say that Lion Brand Yarns picked it up and re-tweeted it. :-D Still, tongue in cheek or not, I do think there is something to that idea.

I think of all the charity knitting, crocheting, and sewing that is done--making clothes and blankets for premie babies, hats for the homeless, Afghans for Afghans, for our soldiers, and to raise money for various other causes, both here and abroad--I have to think there is a lot of love going on there for others. What if our world leaders, while in the midst of diplomatic negotiations, decided to sit down and knit or crochet some item for the needy in their opponent's country? They'd have to get the measurement of each person they did the handiwork for, where they lived, what kind of weather they had so that you could make the outfit or blanket or whatever suitable for their climate. And you know, when you do that, when you measure out a piece of fabric, when you tailor what you make for a person, that person is no longer some vague demographic statistic, he or she has shape and form. That person becomes real

And when he or she gets that item of clothing, knowing where that piece of clothing comes from, there is less animosity toward the person or country from whence it came. It was made specially for that person, and in good will.

There is a little love in each person's heart, both from the giving and the receiving.

So, as we enter fall and look toward the winter, I'm gearing up to do a lot of knitting and spinning of yarn. One of the projects I'm thinking of taking up is to restart my Building an Orphanage in the Congo project on my Etsy site.

I am thinking, however, of also trying to find some charity that benefits rural people. I've been reading a lot about rural poverty and the stereotypes people have about it. The stereotype a typical poor rural person is some white guy with a gun and beat-up truck, a "hick." But the truth is, typical rural citizens are African Americans, Hispanic Americans, and Native Americans. The attitude we have about rural people is damaging, to say the least.

I won't go into the statics about that now. I want to do the Pollyanna thing instead, and that is to look around and see where there is need, then do something to help. I'm like a lot of middle class folks--I've got a job, and so does my husband, for now. I've got a mortgage and college loans to pay while sending a kid through college. But compared to a lot of people, that's tremendous abundance. I've got enough to pay for such luxuries as a TV and computer and...a sizable yarn stash.

It wouldn't hurt me at all to do something with that yarn stash to help those in need. And I bet I'll be joining legions of other hand-crafters doing the same thing. I know the folks at CTA (Clothing and Textile Advisors) are doing it. Then there's Afghans for Afghans, and Hats for the Homeless, and so many more. Want to find a local fiber arts charity? Try this link here.

Put a little love in your hearts, folks. Spread the fiber-arts love!

Erika and Televangelists

This is in response to my niece Erika on Facebook regarding televangelists. She said:

those people are corrupt. I think they do it just for the cash. Sad really..

Erika, it's more complex than that. People usually are more complex than they appear, but it's much easier to react to them on the basis of their surface appearance. The media does it all the time, unfortunately.

I think many of them start out sincere, really believing, and feel the need to express that in word and deed. But fame and money usually mean power, and power inevitably corrupts. The problem then becomes one of someone who relies on his or her past reputation as a sincere believer, or relies on the good cause they're supporting, who actually has done good, and because of that becomes very lazy about being vigilant about the state of their own hearts and souls. Because, after all, they're preaching about God and helping others, and so that must mean they're good people, right? Unfortunately, once you start believing in your own goodness and stop questioning your own motivations and actions, it's a sure-fire indication you're going down the path of arrogance and hypocrisy. And that's true whether you believe in God or not, or whether you're religious or not. A lot of people believe that because the cause they champion is just and good, that it bleeds over onto them, and that it must mean they're just and good, too. Well, causes are not you, and you are not your cause. You are a whole different entity from whatever cause you champion.

If you look at the televangelists who have gone through scandal, you'll see that at least at one time they have indeed helped others with the money they've gathered, whether in relief aid or other charitable works. Unfortunately, relying on that as justification of their goodness was their downfall. They began thinking they deserved the good things that came to them, and kept taking more for themselves ("hey, I'm good, I deserve this limousine"), instead of understanding that it was the generosity of others that put them where they were. They stopped being truly vigilant about themselves and looking to see if they could do more good for others, rather than settling for things as they were.

You know the tree by the fruit it bears. But you often have to look past the leaves to see the fruit, or else it's very easy to assume there's none.

Random thought

Televangelism makes me think of used sponges. They become infused with germs as they get older, and are better off when someone applies regular heat-sanitization.

The Sack of the Church Yard

A college education is a marvelous thing.

The Alien Child has been volunteering this holiday vacation--going to Operation Nightwatch in Seattle as well as working around the grounds of our church. He mentioned to me that he is to get rid of the ivy that is encroaching on the church building, as ivy is known to be quite destructive.

"I think I'll use salt," he said.

"Salt?" I asked. "Did you get that idea from a gardening magazine?"

"No," he said. "I got it from the Romans."

"What?"

"The Romans," he said. "The story of the sack of Carthage. Salting the earth so that no crops will grow--a popular "scorched earth" policy method through the ages. I figure it if it worked then, it should work now." He paused, looking thoughtful. "The Sack of the Ivy. I will wreak utter destruction on it. I will raze its vines into rubble. Its roots will die. Its offshoots will weep and be enslaved."

"I don't think ivy weeps," I said

"Maybe it does," he said. "Maybe it weeps in its own ivy way."

"Also, I'm not so sure it's a good idea just to strew salt around without knowing what kind of effect it might have."

"I'm sure it's okay," he said. "Salt is biodegradable. But I'll ask Nancy just in case." He did, and said that Nancy (who is the groundskeeper) said she couldn't see why it wouldn't work. But I did wonder if he tried to persuade her into it. I understand he is going to use rock salt, as this is probably the closest form we have to what the Romans used.

That's my son: doing his best for historical verisimilitude.

Be an abolitionist!

Says National Geographic about the modern slave trade:

"There are more slaves today than were seized from Africa in four centuries of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. The modern commerce in humans rivals illegal drug trafficking in its global reach—and in the destruction of lives."

This Sunday, February 18, find a group (see singer list below) and sing your lungs out to end slavery in the world:

http://www.amazinggracesunday.com/us/index.html

Sign the petition:

http://www.amazingchange.com/


And here is a map of the groups that are singing Amazing Grace this Sunday in support of ending slavery:

http://www.amazinggracesunday.com/us/include/singer_list.php

It's in conjunction with the movie "Amazing Grace," which is about the British member of Parliament, William Wilberforce's campaign to end the slave trade, as well as about John Newton, his mentor, the ex-slave trader who wrote the hymn, Amazing Grace.

If you belong to a group or are an individual--you don't have to be in a church, although the site is geared toward churches--that is interested in both singing Amazing Grace this Sunday and supporting the end of slavery, you can sign up for it, as well as sign the petition.

The singer list shows groups and churches in each state that are sponsoring the sing-in.

A God Thing

I should know better than to gripe to God, because sooner or later, I’ll get the spiritual two-by-four upside the head. (Although I’m sure I’ll probably continue to gripe, because it’s rather satisfying to gripe to someone who doesn’t get tired of me whining or tell me to cheer up when I don’t feel like cheering up.) So Saturday I was griping because I’d gone out and bought the t-shirts for our church’s little music festival, and few of them were bought, and I had all these doggone shirts left. What am I going to do with all these shirts? I don’t know yet, but I’m sure I’ll find out. These things work themselves out one way or another, I've found. I need to remember that.

The thing I forgot was that the music festival was never about the shirts, and in fact it probably wasn’t even about getting an ecumenical group of musicians out to play great music and have fun on a sunny August day, though all of us thought that was the main purpose of it. Our slogan this year was “Jesus is alive in Federal Way,” which we thought was about singing and playing hymns from the heart and soul with a rock beat.

Not quite. It was actually all about getting people where they needed to be, so that their needs could be met. Which of course is a God-thing, as we at our United Methodist Church would say. It often means the Spirit takes what you've got and does something unexpected with it, but something useful and good.

It’s been my observation that God-things happen all the time, and while most people call them “coincidences” or “serendipity” or even “magic,” they happen a lot at our church, more than I think should be possible. Someone will come into the church office worried because his refrigerator is broken, and then a minute later someone else comes in wanting to get rid of their old but still good refrigerator fast because they just bought a new one. Or the time we needed a sound board operator for our church band for a few weeks. A complete stranger came up to our music director at a non-church party the next evening, and asked if he knew anyone who needed a sound board operator—for EXACTLY the length of time we needed one. Or we needed some plywood to build something, and it just so happens someone comes by the church and wonders if they could offload some plywood. And so on. Happens so often we just shrug our shoulders and say, “it’s a God thing.”

We foolishly thought our church-back-yard music festival was about the music. What it really was about was the person from our neighborhood who heard the music, wandered in, saw our pastor (who no doubt looked approachable because of the balloon animal he was wearing on his head), and ended up finding emotional relief and comfort after talking with him. And it was about one of our own who was anxious about going from a company job to owning her own business after having to deal with the trauma of a family member's severe illness, but found peace when she connected with a stranger (an angel unawares?) who told her she had blessings and abundance surrounding her in what she was going to pursue. And more, probably in ways I haven't heard yet.

I really do have to have faith that even though I may not understand and know the effects of my actions, that they do have an effect. Heaven knows I've been shown this over and over again, even when I've been in despair. There was a time when I despaired of writing romance novels--people call them trash, after all, and what good is trash? It hurt badly sometimes when I would sit down and write something I loved, and then look at it later only to think, there are people out there who think what I do is trash, no matter how much I love it, no matter how much I put all my intellect and heart and soul into it.

I went to a group autographing once a few years ago, feeling that despair. There, a woman asked me to sign a copy of my book for her sister, who had cancer. She said that reading books like mine kept her sister from feeling the pain and the sickness of the disease and the treatments, and gave her hope. I realized then that my vocation of writing romance novels was not about me, or what others think, but was all about that woman, and people like her. People who need hope, who need respite from their very real, very hard, daily lives. It is the privileged who can afford to make judgments on whether a work of creativity is worthy of artistic note. Those who must deal with dread reality only know what keeps them sane and alive. If my books help them do that, then I am more than satisfied. I wish I could thank that woman who came to the autographing. She helped give me a new perspective that is now a deep river of calm underneath the ups and downs of my life.

I have to think that people finding comfort and joy, and the affirmation to follow their bliss and their creativity, are worth more than a bunch of leftover t-shirts. It's closer to what “Jesus is Alive in Federal Way” is about than our very mundane thoughts on musical expression.

So I’m not going to gripe about those t-shirts. At best it means they and I were part of an event that got people connected to what they deeply needed, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. At worst, it’ll mean we'll give away the shirts, and there will be a lot of homeless folk who will be wearing some nice, clean t-shirts. I really can’t lose, when I think of it that way. ☺

--Karen H

Tired!

        Whew. Got done with the Praisefest music festival thingy at my church, which my hubby pulled me into. The music festival was his idea, so of course this meant that I had to take part, whether or not I knew anything about music festivals and how to run them.

        I was in charge of publicity, and since of course this is only the second time our church has put on this summer music fest, and since there were no instructions, I had to figure out things as I went. Such as, gee, it takes a while for a printing company to print up t-shirts, and they need electronic files with color separation. Of course, I know nothing about color separation. Or how many t-shirts to order, because, gosh, nobody really remembers how many were ordered and how many sold the last time, or in what sizes. So, I took a wild guess.

        Never a good thing.

        I ended up with far too many, and so have all these nifty t-shirts on hand. I hope I can sell them at church between services. Please God.

        And speaking of God, since this whole shebang was to glorify God and all, I think He should have taken some responsibility for getting people to buy the t-shirts. I mean, seriously, you’d think He’d give a nudge to the faithful: “look, nifty t-shirts, glorifing Me. Go buy them and save that poor suffering woman over there in the sun from going into serious debt. You’d be doing a Good Work.”

        I dunno, either God was not nudging hard enough or maybe the faithful weren’t being faithful enough to hear.

        Yeah, yeah, I sound grumpy. Most of it, I realize, is feeling some major empty nest syndrome. The Alien Child went off to Washington State University in Pullman early this year--two weeks early so that he could help work on the renovation of his fraternity house. Normally, the boy would be playing some down-and-dirty blues, gospel, and rock electric guitar along with the youth band and the adult band. But this year...well, I don’t think I’m boasting when I say the bands sounded a bit thin without his guitar. He’s got very good at playing, and can improvise around pretty much anything.

        And then there’s the fact that he was really really nice this summer. During the summer of his senior year in high school, there were times he was downright nasty and irritable. Difficult to be around. It wasn’t too hard to let him go to college with a sigh of relief, despite the empty nest twinges. But this summer, he returned even more Alien than ever. Kept his room reasonably clean without protest, did his chores without being told, cleaned the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen, worked hard at his summer job without complaint, and was cheerful and upbeat pretty much the whole time. I tried to get in a few nags, but it was useless; the boy either had finished the work before I told him to do it, or he was working on it as I geared up for a good spate of nagging.

        (sigh) Well, it may well be that he’ll be snagged by one of the campus pastors for their band during the school year. The Pullman United Methodist minister had heard the Alien Child play at the Annual Conference and was at once seized by what I can only characterize as an unholy avaricious spirit and has recruited the boy to play at the Pullman church’s and youth outreach band. My fear is that the Alien Child will wish to spend his summers playing with the band at Pullman, rather than come home.

        But no, I won’t think about that. And I will try not to become what I am sure he sees as Stalker Mom, the kind of Mom that sends e-mails every day, and obsesses over why he isn’t e-mailing back, worrying that maybe he’s been run over by a truck, or even abducted by the aliens who allowed him to grow up under my care. After all, it is wholly possible that those interesting markings in the acres of Palouse wheatfields around Pullman, WA could be, might be, probably are, alien crop circles. Both the hubby and the Child said they were tracks made by wheat harvesters, but they are obviously without imagination, or more likely, were trying to assuage my fears by hiding the facts. It’s clear to me that any one of the grain silos or barns along the way to WSU could be hiding an alien spaceship, ready to take my dear Alien Child away forever....

        Ahem. Anyway. Empty nest. Yes indeedy. Got it bad. And it isn’t helped by the fact that I’m tired from all the activity today. So, off to bed, and I’m sure I’ll be more coherent and reasonable in the morning.

--Karen H.