Tuesday, October 15, 2019

Old Fashioned Tea Cakes

Cookies, Snickerdoodle, Golden Brown, Delicious

This recipe is from the 19th Century.


1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
4 tsp Baking Powder
1/2 cup buttermilk
4 cups flour
Pinch of salt
1/2 tsp baking soda.

Mix all ingredients together and throroughly chill for at least 2 hours. Roll dough 1/8 inch think. Sprinkle with sugar. Cut into small cakes. Bake at 375 for 7 to 8 minutes.

My grandmother made these cakes when I was a child, and I recall their goodness to this day. Do I make them? No, but I remember them, and I wish I could find a baker who made them. I'd buy them.

Cooking and baking is an art. I have a friend who defines creating delicious concoctions as her passion. It relaxes her. Can you believe it?  A few other friends enjoy quilting. Fancy dishes and sewing are two activites I seldom try.

I wonder how many arts we've lost?  Anyone remember tatting?

Border, Banner, Decoration, Floral, Pink Roses, Lace

The border on the above banner resembles tatting. Ladies once made this "lace" out of sewing thread into designs. A senior friend once gave me a tea towel she'd embroidered and then tatted the four edges. I kept it in a special place. I didn't want to use it or ruin it. Hubby didn't realize the value of the piece, and while looking for towels to use as he changed oil, he chose that beautiful piece of art.

What arts of today will be gone in one hundred years?

Perhaps we should learn some of the old ones. Bring them back. There's one I never want to learn. Making art object from hair. Can you imagine? That tedious art began in the 15th century. People collected hair and then twined them into neclaces, bracelets, or wall art. Yuk. 

Let's have a tea cake and a cup of coffee. Maybe we'll color in a coloring book. It was once enjoyed in days gone by, but it's the rage now. Things do come back. But no hair necklaces for me.

Tuesday, October 8, 2019


You may have power with all the saints to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.....Ephesians 3:18

The Apostle Paul spoke at least two languages, possibly four, and with all his understanding of words, he found it difficult to convey in language the love of Christ.

If he couldn't, how can we?

It's love to encounter, explore and experience. Spend a lifetime trying to grasp His love. You'll discover you can't.

Thursday, September 26, 2019

Dementia Report 9/26/19

Good morning, friends,

How does your day begin? Mine normally starts with a phone call from our daughter with Dementia. She normally calls between 5:00 and 6:00. 

She is forgetting more and more how Siri works. This morning, I answered the call, and heard her saying, "Call Gay Lewis."  She said this over and over, even though I yelled, "I'm here!  Here I am.  Hello."  I shrieked loud enough for the neighbors to hear. She finally heard me, and then said, "Oh, there you are." She told me they'd given her a shower, meds, and she was dressed. 

She then said, "One of the nurses doesn't like me." 

"That's okay, not everyone is going to like you," I responded. I have this conversation daily. There's no point in arguing the matter. She could be right. She requires a lot of patience.

She must wait until 7:00 for breakfast, and she doesn't know what to do with herself until the residents are up and about. I suggested she look at photo. They are under her bed. Once-upon-a-time, she could find them and enjoyed the pictures. As soon as we hang up, the phone rang again. We went through the same scenerio. Same conversation. A nurse doesn't like her. She forgot what she was going to look for pictures. I tell her again.

At breakfast, she'll join her group at the table. The groups and activities can keep her busy for awhile, and that's a good thing.

Her best friend was gone yesterday. She called and asked me if she could come to our house for the day. It broke my heart to tell her no. I'm working, and I couldn't entertain her. She barely understands this. It makes her sad to not be with me. She relies on me, even though she receives care from others.

When your child asks for something that you wish you could do, but you can't do, it's sad. Especially when that child's days are numbered.

Here she is at the beginning of the disease. We didn't know what was wrong with her when this picture was taken six years ago. She's the shortest one, the one in the blue dress.  Her reasoning had begun to decline back then. We were at a stadium event and she couldn't count ten rows back and thirteen inside to find the person we'd come to see.  At that time, we thought she merely needed glasses.

I wish that had been the answer. 

Do you have a story to share? How did your day begin as a caregiver? 

Sarah: A Mission of Love

Sarah: Laney's Angel

Sarah at Christmas