Margaret's Life Story Blog
All About Telling Our Life Stories
Margaret's Life Story Blog

Her Best Haircut

We recently held a contest where people could tell their most memorable beauty experience. It was fun to read the stories that came in and we do have a winner!

It was Ardyth's story, about $5000 Thursday.

Click this link to read the entries. Every entrant receives a gift from TellOurLifeStories.com

Leave a comment about your best haircut !

Pictures in the Garden


Here are some recent pictures that I took in my garden. The irises are espcially nice this year and the roses are starting. I hope that you enjoy them,





A Mother's Day Poem

Here is a poem that I wrote for Mother's Day.


May all the prayers in the hearts of moms be answered today.
May all grandmas know that their prayers are heard.
May all moms know that they are loved.
May families pause and draw together in honor of the tradition called Mother's Day.
May any wounds of division be healed.
And may peace lift us up and rest in our hearts and minds,
As we embrace this day with our families.

Brussels Sprouts and Recipe Activities

This is a template to help you to gather your memories about favorite recipes in your collected stash of them. They may be neatly stored on index cards, or in a box as newspaper clippings and magazine. You might have pieces of paper stuffed into old cookbooks with notes and recipes that you pull out and then shuffle back in to use the next time. As you search through them, you remember the warm kitchen oven on a cold day when it was snowing. You remember the thrill when the first bread rose and you punched it down. Your mind wanders back and rests on the memory of a holiday meal with someone who isn't here any more.

Maybe you've shared these recipes numerous times, they might be easy to remember and that's why folks want to make them again and again. On the other hand, they might be complicated, or require special ingredients that you wouldn't purchase except on special occasions.

As desire to have your recipes organized takes hold in your mind, you might think of putting them together in categories that make sense to you. This is your project and you get to do it in any way that suits you. You might, instead of organizing them by appetizers, main courses and desserts, decide to take the favorites and make a special section for those.

Let's just say that you do organize them by favorites, or that you pull out a handful of five favorites to start with. What's the next step? Well, as you look them over, you might remember some special meals where you enjoyed these recipes. You might remember some of the people who were there.

Here is a template you could use to construct your family favorites into a story form:

TITLE: FAVORITE RECIPE, BRUSSELS SPROUTS WITH APPLE CIDER

THE STORY

I have one recipe for brussels sprouts from the San Francisco Chronicle years ago that everybody seems to like. It has some star anise in it and it's flavored with apples and cider so it gives the brussels sprouts a slightly sweet flavor. I think that's why even people who don't like brussels sprouts very much enjoy this dish.

I found it one Christmastime as I was thinking about my annual Christmas Eve dinner. This was always a fun party that my husband and I hosted for our California friends, who like us, didn't have family in the area. I remember the time that Howie and Barry sang "Car 54 Where Are You" because they didn't know any Carols, having grown up as Jewish New Yorkers.

Those were younger days, and as time passed, life evolved, people moved out of the state, circumstances changed and the Christmas dinners changed too. I joined a church and after Mike's death, for a number of years I was having a dinner on Christmas Day instead because I started going to the Christmas Eve service. At the end of the service we all went outside holding white tapers, lit against the darkness and we sang Silent Night to the winter stars. It was always a beautiful service. At my Christmas Day dinners during those years, we gathered in the living room after dinner with our tea and took turns passing Dylan Thomas' A Child's Christmas in Wales around. Each person read a bit and passed it to the next person.

Now I go to visit my family in Wisconsin for Christmas, and after all these years of not spending that holiday with them, it has been especially nice to reconnect and experience all the traditions there. We go to Mass with my mom and it is very special to sit in the pew at St. Helen's church on Christmas Eve with my sister, her husband and my brother Jim.

THE RECIPE

Ingredients
1 pound Brussels sprouts
2 tablespoons of butter
2 tablespoons of olive oil
1 medium size yellow onion, peeled and chopped
2 Golden Delicious apples, cored, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 1/2 cups apple cider
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 star anise
2 tablespoons balsamic vineger

Trim the sprouts. Cut each sprout in half lengthwise.

Melt the butter over low heat in a skillet or heavy bottomed saucepan large enough to eventually hold all the ingredients. When the butter begins to foam, add the olive oil. Increase the heat to medium, add the brussels sprouts and saute for 5 minutes.

Add the apples and onion and saute for 3 to 4 minutes, gently siirring. Add the apple cider, salt, pepper and star anise.

Cover, reduce heat to low and simmer until the sprouts are tender.

Using slotted spoon, remove the contents, leaving only the juices in the pan. Reduce the pan juices by half over medium high heat. Add the vinegar and cook 2 or 3 minutes, stirring and scraping bottom of pan.

Discard the star anise. Put the Brussels Sprout mixture in a serving dish and pour the juices over the top. Serve hot or warm.

Serves 6

Per serving: 190 calories, 3 grams protein, 23 grams carbohydrates, 9 grams fat (3 saturated), 10 milligrams cholesterol, 230 milligrams sodium, 5 grams fiber.

Life Stories: Momentous Occasions, The Inauguration

There are times in our lives when we participate in occasions that are unusual or somehow momentous to us. One of those occasions for me was the recent inauguration. In writing our life stories and sharing them, these occasions provide a picture of the times as well as a perspective of the person who was the writer.

Why did I go?

I was inspired on an impulse initially and after I talked to my cousin Craig who lives in Washington, the reservation turned into a ticket and I was elated.

As I made my way to Washington the Saturday before the event, I felt like everyone else on the plane from San Francisco was going there too. Craig and his girlfriend, Linda, met me at Reagan airport. My bag didn't arrive with me but took a later flight and we went to Georgetown for supper. The place was packed with people. It was great to see Craig and Linda and I will be forever grateful to them for their kind and generous hospitality during my stay.

After dinner, it was midnight and we went to see if my bag had caught up with me but the place was locked. I saw it through the window though, so I was encouraged. Borrowing a toothbrush and t-shirt I fell asleep in the cozy guest room immediately when my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Linda was gone to tend to her mom in a nursing home north of Washington. Linda was away all weekend with her mom and Craig and I were left to fend for ourselves. We began the day by retrieving my suitcase and then going to brunch at a famous grill, a grand old place with dark wood and brass that reminded me of some of the old classic San Francisco eateries.

Thus fortified we drove down Embassy Row and I saw the Danish and Russian Embassies and many more, grand old houses set back from the street, or in the case of the Japanese Embassy modern and very clean-looking. Flags flew at the doors. We drove by Bill and Hillary Clinton's home, up a potholed cul de sac, a classic red brick colonial with white columns, three stories, shades down on a tree-lined street, right near the vice president's residence. I wondered, in passing, if Joe and Jill had moved in yet. Or if Dick had moved out.

Then, there was the National Cathedral. We went in just as the service was starting. And we had communion together in this Episcopal church. Craig said, “now that's something I never thought we would do together, take communion!” It's because he was raised Lutheran in Wisconsin and I was raised Catholic.

After that, we went over to the Mall and walked around along with the hundreds of other people in small groups, walking, taking pictures. Craig said that Washington had never seen such an event unfolding. Thirty thousand police and National Guard troops were there, troops on every street corner, watching the people, standing in groups. We walked by the White House and saw the reviewing stand. I took a picture of Blair House, kitty-corner from the White House. As I snapped the photo, I wondered if Barack Obama was in there practicing his inaugural address.

We went past the new Newseum, a tribute to the media. It houses a large piece of the Berlin Wall with accompanying newspaper stories and photos lining the walls. The very top of the laceName>TwinlaceName> laceType>TowerslaceType>, singed and bent is on display along with an exhibit about the Oklahoma City bombing. The highlight was the short film of Pulitzer prize-winning photographs narrated by the photographers who took them. There was the photo of Lee Harvey Oswald being shot by Jack Ruby. And the famous photo of the Vietnamese prisoner being shot in the head and the little girls running down the street after their village was bombed with napalm. It was very moving and dramatic. When these photographers went out on the day these pictures were taken, they had no idea what would happen, their mantra was stay ahead of the action and when the event was happening, they just kept snapping and snapping and they captured these historic moments that are etched in our consciousness.

The Sunday concert was going to begin any time, while we were in the Newseum. And then we heard James Taylor singing and we went over to the railing. He was singing on the Mall at the Lincoln Memorial, just a few blocks away, and a half a million people were out there watching the concert. We watched it over the railing on a giant screen with several hundred other people. It was a wonderful concert. Stevie Wonder, Bruce Springsteen and so many more and we saw the Obamas taking it all in from their seats near the stage.

Craig and I had a front-and-center view standing over the railing, and we weren't out in the freezing cold of the afternoon either, which was an added bonus. But we were still in the atmosphere of the crowd in Washington that was growing larger as the minutes passed.

After the concert, we stopped for a glass of wine at another cozy restaurant and it felt good to sit down and visit a bit. We talked about our families and how we didn't see each other very much growing up and I said that I was glad that we were able to spend this time together now. I guess, as we realized that we are both news junkies, the history in the moment was very moving in its own way. And it was rewarding to be spending this precious occasion with a member of my family.

We drove back to Arlington after that and I was able to unpack a little and take a shower, which felt very nice. I made us some swordfish that turned out pretty good. Craig liked it. We watched TV and went to bed early.

The next morning, it was about 7 and I was just thinking about getting out of bed when there was a knock at the door. “Margaret, get up!” said Craig. “MSNBC is filming and we can go there and have breakfast and watch it live.”

I got out of bed and we left within 30 minutes. We parked at Union Station and walked over to this place that was packed with people. They weren't letting anyone else in so we stood around on the sidewalk watching our breath in the cold and finally got inside a tent that was near the door. But no luck, they weren't letting anyone else inside. So we gave it up and went back over to Union Station and had a great breakfast right there. That's a grand old place too. And they were setting up tables for one of the balls that was going to happen later that night.

We searched for souvenirs, but Craig said we should go over to the White House because they had a better souvenir collection in their gift shop. So we went over there and he stayed in the car while I went in but it was closed and they referred us to the other official souvenir store. Well they had everything you can imagine. There were calendars and cufflinks and bowls and t-shirts and mugs and a whole assortment of items.  I got a mug for myself and one for my mom and a refrigerator magnet. I was satisfied. Craig got two t-shirts for Linda's niece and nephew and two mugs for them.

After that we went to the Jefferson Memorial. There he is, “a true Renaissance man,” as Craig said. And the words, “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal,” high on the wall over our head, heralding the birth of a new country.

I was done for after that, needing lunch and a nap. It was overcoming me how many people we had already seen, how many people were there, how many police were milling around, how many thousands of porta potties were “blocking the night sky,” as Craig put it. Tomorrow was going to be huge. And we were supposed to go out for dinner later with two friends of Craig and Linda's.

We went back to Arlington and I made a salad and pretty soon, I was asleep on the sofa. It was the best thing I could have done. Later that afternoon , Craig went out to get some better gloves for standing out in the cold, to protect his fingers from the frostbite that he had from when he was a kid, ice skating in Wisconsin. So, as it turned out, we spent that afternoon preparing for the event the next day, each in our own way.

The dinner with their friends was at a lovely restaurant, but I could barely eat a thing, I was getting butterflies for the next day. When we got back and I went in my room, I took some melatonin so that I would be sure to get a good sleep for the big day, which I did.

Writing Memoir: The Recent Inauguration

When we look back at what was going on during our times and when our families look back at who we were and when we lived, there were historical events occurring, of course, as there always are. When I look back at my Grandmother’s life, I think about the Great Depression, or at my Mother’s and think of World War II. During my lifetime, there has been the Viet Nam War. Another event that will be viewed in a historical context id the Inauguration of the first African American president. Here is a story about being in Washington for that event and what happened on a personal level that day.

We left the condo building at about 7:45 a.m. Of course, Craig had seen on the news that hundreds of thousands of people were already there. We were all bundled up in our warm clothes. He had his new gloves on. Before we took off, I called my brother Jim in Wisconsin. It was an hour earlier there of course, 6:30 a.m. His alarm goes off at 7 so he was still asleep. He told me later, he has his ring tones programmed. My ring tone is the Star Spangled Banner. So he awoke to the Star Spangled Banner, opened his eyes and focused and thought to himself, “well, there is my sister, the Star Spangled Banner on Inauguration Day of the first African American President,” now there's a start to the day.”

The day before Craig had said we needed to decide between the parade and the inauguration because we couldn't do both. Hands down, it was the inauguration.

I felt rested and ready for whatever was going to happen. I held no expectations. I only hoped to be able to be close enough to a speaker somewhere so that I could hear the swearing in and the inaugural address. I love great speeches.

We walked down to the metro underground train station and hundreds of people were there and they were letting people down onto the platform in waves. We got down to the platform about a half hour later and four filled trains came and went. I didn't see how you could jam one more person into those cars. I was starting to give up. But then a train came by and the doors opened and suddenly Craig hopped on, then he pulled me by the coat and I hopped on. We were on the train!

A young man with two small children and a wife then decided to be a linebacker, put his head down and rammed Craig and the very large African American standing next to Craig. They pushed the man away, “you can't do that!” The fellow tried it one more time but then the doors closed and we were moving away from the platform. People had been warned not to bring small children or people over 70 years of age. There was a sea of hundreds of people in the station and a knee-height child could be easily crushed or get lost in such a crowd.

We stopped briefly in a tunnel and then moved on past two stations before the train halted and we got out. Really, it was a very short ride on the train. This station was even more packed, wall to wall people. One man started shouting “O-ba-MA!” And the crowd replied, “O-ba-MA!”

Slowly the crowd was inching toward the escalators. Two officers parted the people to allow a wheelchair through. What a journey it was going to be for a person in a wheelchair.

Craig assisted an old black woman up the escalator. It didn't seem like she was with anyone, but she wore a smile on her face that told the whole story of why she was there.

We inched our way down the street with the thousands of others. People were patient, they were moving, slowly moving. We turned, we found an opening, we went through some bushes, walked another block and suddenly it seemed, there we were, right on the mall in front of a jumbotron! It was more than I had hoped for! They were just starting to seat people up at the Capitol, where we could see the flags draped, way in the distance. We were several hundred thousand people ahead of the laceName>WashingtonlaceName> laceType>MonumentlaceType> and there were several hundred thousand people ahead of us going up towards the Capitol.

They handed out flags. We waved them. The television boom shot down over our heads, everyone in our section waved to the camera. I had one moment when I looked around and was overcome with, I won't call it a panic attack, but just a momentary pause of realization that this was unlike anything I had every done or would ever do. Fortunately I had some cheese in my pocket and Craig and I shared cheese and granola bars and the moment quickly passed.

On the jumbotron we could see the dignitaries filing onto the staging area. The people around us were waiting patiently in groups of two or three or four. There was space between us. People were dressed in warm clothes, but it was still cold. I guess it was about 20 degrees. After about an hour or two, I can't remember, my toes began to hurt from the cold and Craig leaned down to line his shoes with paper because the bottoms of his feet were hurting from the cold. I held off on that but some time later, I was sorry not to have done it too! Everyone was patient and in a good humor. There were no vendors or food stands about, just the thousands of porta potties. Some people had signs but didn't hold them up so people behind them could see.

Then the moment approached and everyone surged forward. When George Bush came down the stairs, some people booed. When the helicopter taking him away flew over the crowd shortly after that, some people sang, “na na na na, hey, hey, hey, good-bye,”

More dignitaries came down the stairs. There was Ted Kennedy in his sky blue scarf looking old and happy. There were Hillary and Bill Clinton.

Everyone around us was patient and calm. Periodically, the camera would boom across the crowd and we would wave. All we could se was the small box zooming over us, suspended on a long metal arm coming out from a media tower but we didn't see ourselves on any screen. The jumbotrons were focused directly on the podium and what was happening at the Capitol. We could see the three great American flags hanging down by the pillars. They looked so huge up close the other day, but now they were specks in the distance.

Then the moment arrived. The Reverend stepped up to say the prayer. I, for one, nearly held my breath, hoping he wouldn't ruin these perfect moments. But soon the Lord's Prayer was over and he moved away. Joe Biden stepped up and took the oath of office. The crowd erupted in cheers and everyone surged forward again. Then Barack Obama and Michelle and the two little girls in their candy-colored outfits were there before us on the big screen. There was some stumbling over the oath. Craig said something to me. But then the rest of the oath seemed OK.

Everyone cheered. Flags waved. People hugged each other and it felt like a spirit of lifting up. Then our new President spoke. He was eloquent, of course. I felt touched, I felt hopeful and I felt surrounded by the hope of hundreds of thousands all around me. The words spoke of a future and there was also a deep sense of abiding in this moment when, for these seconds, we could all see this future together as one. Not an easy future, but a future together as one world.

When he finished, the crowd erupted again, flags waved, gloved and mittened hands clapped. People jumped up and down in joy and cheered the new President.

Then it felt like time to go home.

Craig and I made our way past the Jefferson Memorial and walked on the closed down, empty freeway crossing the bridge over the icy Potomac where a blast of frigid air accompanied us all the way. It reminded me of the words from Obama's Inaugural Address about the winter winds that were blowing over this river when George Washington and his troops were there and the winter we are facing in this national crisis. But we soon came to the other side, as we all will together, and were on our way to lunch and watching the parade and Balls on TV in the comfort of Craig's living room. 

Dr. Wicked and Write Or Die

The other night while Twittering, I found this writing site created by Dr. Wicked, called Write or Die.

Now this is alot of fun for writers. You get timed and when you slouch around and don't write for a few minutes, it gives you a choice of reactions to get you writing again. I selected "electric shock."

You should try it, it's easy and it's fun and I hope that Dr. Wicked makes lots of money with it because it's a great idea for bloggers and writers of all kinds.

It's the Dr. Wicked writing coach for all writers. It will keep you going and point you to the page when you falter and get distracted and start surfing, or go the kitchen for the writer's enemy: the SNACK.

So you can time yourself for up to 2 hours and it will keep you on task. I just tried it for 10 minutes and wrote up this nice little article for my too-long-ignored blog.

Yes, it is a rainy Sunday and Write or Die is just the ticket to pass the time.
194
10
lab.drwicked.com

Your Favorite Appliance

I was reading one of those suggestion essays about writing life stories and there was one to do a story about your favorite appliance. I had to give it some thought? Since it's winter, I was thinking that mine might be my furnace. I put out a call in my newsletter this week for stories about appliances and I got some great replies.

John said, "Oh yea, let's see you get along with out your water heater. Ever think about that? Even in the summertime I would almost bet you would not want to do without your trusty old water heater. Appliance or piece of mechanical equipment? Well let's look  at it this way, ever see a furnace offered for sale in an appliance store?"

Nope, I guess not, so maye a furnace doesn't qualify. But John had more words about other appliances, "Did you know a lot of the old Maytag wringer washers had gasoline engines powering them? Well lots of homes still did not have electricity, but had a need for a washing machine. Oh yes these washers were located outside. In old San Francisco homes it is quite common to find one of the old concrete wash sinks in the basement. Do you Margaret know how this wash sink worked? Talk about manual operation. Well one side was used for washing, and the other side for rinsing. A manual crank wringer was attached to the side of the sink. Got that job down in your mind? Yes, you manually wash things using your scrub board in the wash sink, rinse the clothes under the faucet, then hand crank them through the wringer, and hang them up on the line to dry. One of my friend's wash sink had an electric agitator that could be lowered down into the wash sink to wash  the cloths for you. Talk about a modern  appliance... well for the early 1900's I guess it was. Still in love with that furnace?"

My furnace is losing out over the washing machine now. Although when I just talked to my mom in the midwest tonight she sure is glad to have that furnace, I can tell you.

Penny wrote one about her hair dryer, it's in the collection, so if you are a subscriber you can see it there. And I like her poufy hair, by the way, nice photo!

And Ken said, "Googling "define: appliance" gives, among other things, "Appliance: A household device operated by use of electricity or gas. Not included in this definition are components covered under central heating, central cooling or plumbing." It's number six on the list.  However, I think you should feel free to expand on the definition. "

Ken also said, "Funny connected story. My father was in the IRA before he left Ireland. That was the old IRA, not the revived IRA from the 60s which became more of a terrorist organization. He was jailed briefly before leaving the country sometime around 1917. Anyway, it happened that the old washing machine quit draining one day. Dad and my cousin, who was a machinist, took the machine apart. Unbelievable -- blocking the drain was a George VI sixpence. (We never did figure out how it got there.) My father looked at it and said, "That #^%*&*@ made my life hell in Ireland. Then he had to follow me eight thousand miles across land and sea to screw up my washing machine in San Francisco."

What's your favorite appliance?

TellOurLifeStories Home

Going to the Inauguration

Next Saturday I leave to go to WA DC for the Inauguration. I don't have a ticket mind you, but my cousin Craig lives there and he graciously allowed me to invite myself over for the occasion. He's lived in Arlington a long time with his girlfriend Linda and it should be great. Well maybe that's not the right word. It should be monumental. I am not in favor of being crushed by a million other souls, but just being in the vicinity will be enough for me. My hope is that this launches a whole new era. What do you think?

Sitting around the Piano

Meant to post this a month ago

It was the annual Christmas party last night at the church. I went there earlier in the afternoon to help set up and Nancy had the idea of organizing the tables around the piano this year. It was a great idea and we set them up in a semi-circle with the piano against the wall. Lynn put some boughs on top of the console and we put tablecloths on the tables and the Christmas table runners that Natasha made and then Gilda added the peppermint and lifesaver favors at each place that she makes every year, wrapped in cellophane. Since we had put lights around the room last Sunday, we didn't need to do that. In 45 minutes we were done.  What a time bargain.

We decided to abandon our effort at reusability for the evening in favor of getting hot cups that people could throw away so we wouldn't need to wash more dishes. It was the right decision. Lynn said I could find some at Longs in the far corner. Later, after dark, the party began. Lynn, coming in from the kitchen as I arrived, looked around, glanced at my bag of cups and plates and frowned, "Those don't look like the hot cups from Longs,"

"They are hot cups, see," I replied, pulling the tower of cups out of the bag. "It says hot/cold. I didn't get them at Longs, I went to the party store."

People wore their Christmas clothes on and the new Pastor Robert circulated the room, making sure to have a word with everyone. Jim made two turkeys and Eleanor arranged for a fundraising bazaar. Someone even brought 3 quilts, made in Minnesota. There were some great bargains. Lynn talked me into the Christmas red, cable knit, Ralph Lauren cashmere sweater that was too small for Nancy, for $20. "You can wear that in Wisconsin next week," said Nancy.

I talked to Ralph about his travels into geneology and his German/Russian ancestors who came to Nebraska and Colorado. Barbara volunteered that her relations had come from England and settled in Massachusetts. And there are more than a few midwesterners in the group. Mostly transplants, but a few natives in the community.

I looked around at the familiar faces, we've all put on a few pounds, or taken off a few pounds and put them back on, since everybody loves to eat so much and they're all great cooks. The traditional green bean casserole was present, as usual, on the buffet table. And there was a ham this year. There weren't as many desserts this year, but Natasha had her brownies.

After dinner, we sat around the piano in our usual way. We sang all the Christmas songs. We sang the melancholy ones, Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming...from tender stem hath sprung. As well as Joy to the World. There were Jim and Eleanor and Ralph and Lynn and Tim and Carol and Sam and Judy and Warren and LaVerne and Kathleen and Ruth and Cara wanted to sing one in French, so several of us joined in.  


Blog Software