Monday, June 30, 2008
Posted by emme at 6:07 PM
One morning late in June she was startled at the washtub by a sudden darkening of the room. David was on the threshold. She knew something had happened.
"Come," he said abruptly. "I want to show you something." His voice shook with excitement.
She stripped the suds from her arms and dried her hands. David picked up the baby as heedlessly as if the baby were a bundle. He went up the path so quickly that Molly almost ran to keep up with him.
She saw nothing unusual. The wind was blowing, the wild grass rippling; no cloud was in the sky. The Svenson's sod shanty stood beside its shadow; dust followed Mr. Svenson's plow. Yellow specks of buildings were clustered at the town site and a smudge of dust blown against the skyline showed that men were working as usual on the railroad. David went with long strides toward the slough.
The coarse slough grass was taller than she; it rustled harshly along the narrow path. An earthy smell came from its roots, for here in the slough the creek spread and vanished into the soil, keeping it damp through the summer drought. She followed David out of the slough, and stood amazed. The wheat field's green stalks rose before her...
Posted by emme at 5:29 PM
Sunday, June 29, 2008
An aunt and cousin came to visit tonight and ended up staying for dinner. It was my night to make it (Sarah and I switch off every other day) and I decided that a yummy dessert would be the perfect finishing touch. ☺
I so enjoy this recipe that I thought I would share it with you. I've made it quite a few times--it's ultra quick and easy, and besides measuring cups and such, you only dirty the one pan that you bake it in! How nice is that?
It was popular during World War II as a substitute for more conventional cakes because it uses no eggs or butter...and you all know how much I love that era. It has since appeared in every basic Betty Crocker cookbook since 1950. Plus, there is just something so neat and "magical" about the fact that two separate textures (cake and hot fudge) are formed during baking.
Without further ado...
* * * * *
1 cup flour
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 Tbls. cocoa
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup milk
2 Tbls. vegetable oil
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup cocoa
1 3/4 cup very hot water
Bake 40 minutes. Spoon warm cake into dessert dishes and top with ice cream. Spoon sauce from pan onto each serving.
Posted by emme at 6:51 PM
Elizabeth and I have shared a bedroom for the four years or so that we have lived in this house. I love her dearly, but...truthfully, we aren't the best of roommates. She doesn't care for the way I like everything put neatly away, and I don't care to see the belongings (okay, treasures) she likes to line up on her dresser or the many, many stuffed friends she like to decorate (*ahem* bury) her bed with.
Posted by emme at 1:45 PM
Monday, June 16, 2008
"The Walls of Jericho"
I won't spoil the storyline for you...but this is one classic that is a must-see. The script is superb, the actors mesh so well, and there are more funny quotes than I could mention. All in all, I think Claudette Colbert was crazy...how could you not love this movie?
Posted by emme at 5:28 PM
"Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering - because you can't take it all in at once."
Posted by emme at 11:05 AM
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Posted by emme at 8:03 PM
Friday, June 13, 2008
Posted by emme at 3:38 PM
My sister Sarah and I are about as different as two people can be. Oh, on fundamental and Very Important Things, we think alike, but that's about it. She says black and I say white. In a good-natured, but never-the-less, serious sort of way. We love to laugh at ourselves.
While I'm a romantic and dreamer, she's practical almost to a fault and I'm simply convinced that she comes from the sturdy, pioneer-stock, side of the family.
She loves working in her vegetable garden, while I love my roses and flower gardens. She thinks that everything you own has to serve a practical purpose, while I think sometimes an object is worth owning just for beauty's sake. Sometimes we don't understand why the other likes what she does...but we always have fun.
I don't know what I would do without her. She is my kindred spirit; my best friend. We share a love for all things vintage and we both adore old movies. We can talk and laugh until the wee hours of the morning, and there is nothing we like better after a long hard day's worth of work, than to sit together, with the house all dark and quiet and everyone else asleep, and watch an old movie and knit.
I guess all I'm trying to say, Sarah, is...I love you. I know this is a few days late, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, and year, just the same.
And, Emma...I was so delighted to find that you shared a birthday with my sister. You are such a sweet girl...someone I consider a friend, though we've never met. Many blessings!
Posted by emme at 1:27 PM
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Clare tagged me for a book meme. I've never done one of these, but since it's about books--one of my very favorite-est things--it should be fun!
Link to the person that tagged you, post the rules somewhere in your meme, answer the questions, tag six people in your post, let the tagees know they’ve been chosen by leaving a comment on their blog, let the tagger know your entry is posted.
Posted by emme at 4:54 AM
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Crossing Fifth Avenue with the Upper East Side ladies in their spiffy Lilly Dache hats and debutantes sporting golden beach tans headed for the Terrace Room at the Plaza, I felt out of my league in my scuffed saddle shoes...
"So where do you think the bargains are?" I asked Marty. Nothing set my heart racing like a for sale sign.
"Hattie Carnegie?" She laughed. "No--Bergdorf's, like we planned."
"Are you serious?"
Bergdorf's wouldn't have a sale, I muttered, as we peered into their surrealistic show windows. But Marty was right, a SUMMER SALE sign was discreetly displayed. Once inside, the tantalizing scent of Chanel No. 5 sent me into a dream-like trance as I milled around with the elite. How my mother would love this store. She had the greatest eye for high fashion and would have had one of the designers' dresses copied in no time.
As soon as we spotted the MARKED DOWN sign, we made a dive for it. Marty snapped up a pair of white gloves immediately--great bargain. Buried in the back, I found a crisp pink and white pique dress, with a fitted bolero.
"It's five dollars!" I cried, showing Marty how the tiny pleats in the skirt billowed out like a Ginger Rogers dress, a show-off number to dance in. Even she gasped.
When I marched to the front counter to buy it, a snooty saleslady squinted through her chic glasses to examine the price tag.
"This dress is fifty dollars," she said, pointing to a tiny zero with her lurid red fingernail. Fifty dollars! Was she kidding?
I looked to make sure--that dress was meant for me. How could a meager snip of a summer dress be on sale for fifty dollars?
I almost keeled over.
Posted by emme at 9:31 PM