Just Thinkin' About Civics and Google

Today is the second day of the 2010 Gubernatorial recount here in Minnesota.  In 2008 we had a months long recount to determine our next Minnesota Senator in Congress.

The election cycles of recent years have been fraught with the most vitriolic personal attacks on the persons running for public office while frank civil dialog on the issues have taken a back seat.  Not that this is new in our history, but the sheer volume of the personal attacks that they have become the norm is more than troubling.  It seems that many of us, individuals, politicians, media personalities, have lost the ability to be civil in our civic discourse. 

As I sat down to create this blogpost I Googled: images "civic." It never occurred to me that seconds later I would be staring at a computer screen with a page full of images of the Honda Civic automobile!  Where were images from Civics class, government in action, legislators, the president? My first thought was - really - the word civic is consumer based rather than a word to describe the way citizens in a democracy participate respectfully in government as a right and a responsibility every day not just during election cycles. My disappointment was palpable.

It is clear that I have a lot more to think about as I realize that our schools continue to struggle with budget cuts that reduce academic offerings including the watering down of Civics courses while athletics continue to be a priority. Still thinkin'...civilly of course.

Just Thinkin' About Bubble-Lites

I was so sure I'd begin decorating the house for Christmas today.  I cleaned to get everything ready. After sitting down for a cup of tea before getting started, I decided that it is just too soon to decorate though it is never too soon to savor and remember some of the simple joys of Christmas past.

Sunlight dances off the snow except where the dirty ice chunks border the street pushed aside by snowplows after our Thanksgiving Eve snow.  Television programming since Thanksgiving is laced with seasonal "favorites" and New Millennium versions of dreaming and wishing and hoping and buying and giving and getting.  Unlike movies of long ago, many still running, the new ones are more likely to tell stories through the lives of people of from diverse backgrounds. And somehow they feel even more commercial each year.

The little girl in the image above could have been me, blonde and blue-eyed, gazing with wonder at the Bubble-Lites.  These magical lites appeared one Christmas in the 1950's on gramma's Christmas tree amid the silver tinsel which was added joyfully one piece at a time after all the familiar ornaments that were like family had seemingly been placed in the same position they held the year before.  

It was amazing to see this new bubbling wonder shedding light on the homemade popcorn/cranberry strings we made with gramma.  The popcorn grown in her garden the previous summer and stored in the basement root cellar was popped by gramma in a heavy iron kettle and put into a large bowl while the cranberrys came from the grocery store "uptown" in West Concord.  Gramma threaded the needles with long heavy thread making "lazy tailor" strings upon which we created ropes of dark red cranberries and fluffy white popcorn.  The room was filled with giggles when popcorn "popped" off the string demanding to be eaten and cries of "ouch" each time we pushed too hard on the cranberry piercing our finger.  Gramma suggested that we ate more popcorn than we strung every year without fail.  This too was tradition.

Come to think about it we went to gramma and grampa's every Sunday after church for dinner and the afternoon.  Did I say every Sunday, year round, no exception? Yes, every Sunday, no exception. I have so many memories of those wonferfilled days and I have no memory of the Christmas tree appearing at gramma's house on a Sunday in November - or even early December. 

When my own grandchildren were small, we decorated my home the first weekend of Advent.  Once we finished, we had a homemade pizza picnic on blankets spread on the den floor, took showers, donned pajamas (gramma too), grabbed blankets and got into the car for our annual Christmas decorations tour of the city.  We capped the tour by going into our favorite ice cream shoppe and ordering ice cream. The "grands" thought I was especially daring to go in wearing my cream colored teddy bear flannel pajamas. 

Good thing the shoppe was close to home or I would have had to carry each one from the garage through the snow into the house.  Once home, we brushed our teeth, climbed into bed for our tradition of telling bedtime stories about when their parents were kids.  They fell asleep quickly rendering these stories very brief.

Maybe next weekend I will be ready to decorate my home.  Maybe...  Maybe not...

Just Thinkin' About Black Friday

Watching the local and national news it would seem the most important thing happing in the world is reliving "Black Friday."  How busy were the malls?  How much more did people spend this year than last?  Is the economy on the rebound?  A woman in Wisconsin was arrested for threatening other shoppers in line at "Toys R Us." 

For much of my life, the Friday after Thanksgiving was reserved for making five pounds of homemade fruitcake using my grandmother's recipe.  This project required the stainless steel bowl bread bowl that we also used to stir up ten loaves of bread three times a week, baking spoon, measuring cups/spoons, paring knife, wax paper saved from cereal boxes, baking pans and a bib apron.  

The fruit and nuts were cut up, soaked in brandy and set aside.  Lots of sugar and butter were creamed, eggs beaten and added using the biggest baking spoon we had.  This spoon blended everything including the first scoops of flour.  Our hands, arms, shoulders, tummy muscles did all the whipping, blending, stirring.  The flour was added last using the strengh in our hands and bodies to combine the last of the flour completely into the batter. Imagine, we washed our hands before we started baking and put them into batters and doughs over and over again without giving it a thought.  Today cooks wear gloves like surgeons to protect from the dreaded GERMS!

Pans were lined with cereal box paper greased with lard rendered from the last pig we butchered.  A jelly roll pan with water was placed on the lowest oven rack and then each pan was added to the oven with the slightest space between each one until there was no room for another.  As gramma's recipe said, "bake slow till a toothpick in the middle comes out clean."

Once cooled, the fruitcakes were wrapped in brandy soaked cheese cloths and stored in gramma's cool pantry until Christmas Eve. For the whole weekend after Thanksgiving these divine aromas filled the house.

Several times over the years I tried to "get into" shopping on Black Friday.  I failed miserably.  As a friend said a number of years ago, "you are the only woman I ever met who flunks shopping!"  He was/is right.  I'd rather be in the kitchen baking with love and joy our annual Gramma's Christmas Fruitcake.  We rarely make it anymore saying it is unhealthy full of sugar, butter and cholesterol laden.  I no longer make it because it has become too expensive.  What a loss.