Pastor Annette's Blog
"OF ALL THE THINGS GOD HAS SHOWN ME, I CAN SPEAK BUT A LITTLE WORD NOT MORE THAN A HONEYBEE CAN CARRY AWAY ON ITS FOOT FROM AN OVERFLOWING JAR."
~ MECHTHILD OF MAGDEBURG, 13TH CENTURY MYSTIC |
"OF ALL THE THINGS GOD HAS SHOWN ME, I CAN SPEAK BUT A LITTLE WORD NOT MORE THAN A HONEYBEE CAN CARRY AWAY ON ITS FOOT FROM AN OVERFLOWING JAR."
~ MECHTHILD OF MAGDEBURG, 13TH CENTURY MYSTIC |
December 3, 2024
Beloved: Yesterday’s dusting of snow would have been more delightful had I not locked myself out of the house running out to the garage to fetch a new roll of paper towels. I had on slippers and pajamas. My phone was by my favorite chair. Luckily my neighbor’s front door is 20 steps from mine. I used her phone to call both daughters, both of whom don’t have a key to my house. I called the locksmith* who guessed it would be forty-five minutes, but within thirty my daughter swung into my driveway, there to check on me. She shoved my garage door not even very hard and to my alarm it popped right open into my laundry room. Turns out the strike plate was badly bent and too far recessed into the door frame to hold the bolt securely. The knob wouldn’t turn but the door itself wasn’t locked at all, nor has it been the whole two years I’ve lived here. Yikes! The locksmith fixed everything right up and made extra keys to give my daughters and my neighbor. I also hid one in the garage. All’s well that ends well, don’t you know. The lessons hang low here, the gift of good neighbors first of all. ~ Showing up early and unannounced, sitting at her cozy kitchen table in our pajamas, I felt as welcome as I’ve ever felt anywhere. ~ Good daughters are gold, never to be taken for granted, especially the resourceful ones who think to do more than just turn the knob. She came ready to break into the house depending on how cold I was. ~ Don’t panic right away took me a while, years in fact. Being locked out is an inconvenience, not an emergency as long as there is nothing on the stove or toddlers left alone. ~ Again and again, safety is an illusion. I thought I was locked in tight and one push was all it took to get through the door. We do our best and trust the keeper of our lives and life together to keep us cradled in the everlasting arms of God’s eternal peace. Happiness turns to joy for me when I lean into the faith I claim; whether we live or we die, we belong to the Lord. (Romans 14:8) I pray you are being extra gentle with yourself in this hectic season, making time to reflect and worship. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette * If you are local and need a locksmith for anything, I cannot recommend J&S Locksmith highly enough. They have done lots of work for me over the years and are especially un-judgy of a lady who locks herself outside in the snow wearing only her pajamas and slippers. https://www.jslockandlawn.com/
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November 26, 2024 Happy Thanksgiving! Beloved: At Sunday’s Thanksgiving potluck the folks at our table talked about that joyful satisfaction of being really, really hungry, then sitting down to amazingly good food. We marked the privilege of it, and our gratitude for it. Food. More than any year I can remember, I am preoccupied with the food memories I have around this meal: the dishes I usually make and how I came to make them. I read the New York Times Cooking section more closely than I read any other, and yet I rarely vary from the same Thanksgiving menu I have made for years. We only added mac and cheese once my grown daughter started making it a few years ago. These are a few of the recipes on my table most years. Growing up, my mom dumped cranberry sauce from the can onto a small plate and sliced it into can-shaped disks. I did the same until Donna Ritter taught this version at a Global Women’s Gathering years ago and I discovered that I love it. To me this is exactly how it’s supposed to taste. I wished I’d copied and kept her recipe handwritten on notebook paper, instead of retyping it to send by email. I’d love to have that now. I’ve made savory deviled eggs but my mom’s sweet ones are my favorite. She made them at Thanksgiving and Easter. The standard stuffing (dressing as some folks call it) at my house for thirty years is from the Good Housekeeping Cookbook I got for a wedding present in 1988. My sister took it up a notch one year by adding red, yellow and orange bell peppers and we’ve kept her twist on it since. This year I am also adding mushrooms. When I had a big kitchen I’d cut open loaves of sourdough bread and let them dry out on a tray on the counter top. Now I just use this. I’ve made the same yeast rolls for at least twenty-five years, as much for the memory as for the taste. Bill Littlefield had made them for church dinner one year, so I called him a couple of days before Thanksgiving to get the recipe. He started to read off the ingredients, then stopped and asked if I was home that afternoon. I said yes and he said, “Okay, here’s the list of stuff you need, check and see if you have everything, and if not I’ll stop and get the rest on my way to your house. I really want to come and show you how to do this.” And he did. He spent several hours of his day driving in from his house in Brown County, going by the store and then coming over to show me the best way to carefully mix all this together, in the right order and ONLY EVER WITH A WOODEN SPOON, never a mixer so as not to overstir it. Bill died of a positively hateful cancer several years ago but his thoughtfulness and generosity that day is in the scent and taste of these rolls every time I make them. I’ve cooked a whole turkey every kind of way. I’ve brined them. I’ve massaged them with butter, olive oil and salt. I’ve stuffed them with fruit, vegetables and herbs. At my friend Charlotte’s advice, I once soaked a turkey in champagne. One summer I paid a fresh, local turkey deposit at the Farmers Market then got a text in mid-November to meet the farmer in a parking lot to collect my bird. I was told to bring cash. It felt slightly illegal, and also exciting. I’ve bought fresh birds from a butcher and frozen ones from the grocer. But hands down I’ll not cook another Thanksgiving bird any way but spatchcock it. All of which is to say, I’ve got good food on my mind. No doubt you have your menu all planned out and have no need of more recipes. So these are here just for your reading, should you ever want them. It might be fun to make a Church Thanksgiving Cookbook some year. If you aren’t cooking, thank the cook and wash the dishes, but not too soon. Linger at the table a long, long time and be grateful for the gift of having a table around which to linger. Be grateful for the people who are there in memory alone and the ones who are making the memories that will sustain us in years to come. Let time stand still for just a little while, long enough to mark the blessing it is to be alive and be together, here and now, and be nourished by it. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette Donna Ritter Cranberry Sauce * NOTE - Sauce takes a day or more to set up properly, so best made no later than Tuesday before Thanksgiving.
My Mom’s Deviled Eggs ~ Thanksgiving Size Batch
Cut eggs in half, drop yolks in a bowl and arrange whites on a serving plate. A layer of leaf lettuce will keep them from sliding around. Combine yolks, mayonnaise, mustard and salt in a food processor, and process until smooth. Remove to a mixing bowl and stir in relish and onion. Spoon into eggs and sprinkle with paprika. Good Housekeeping Sausage Stuffing
Preheat oven to 325. In Dutch oven over medium heat, cook sausage until browned. Remove meat from pot to a bowl but leave drippings in pot over medium heat. To pot add butter and all vegetables. Cook until tender. (I usually do this a day or two ahead and keep in fridge, then reheat in Dutch oven on Thanksgiving Day and continue recipe from here.) Remove from heat; add cooked sausage, bread, eggs, milk and herbs/spices. Toss together until well mixed. Spoon into 9x13 pan sprayed with Pam. Cover with foil and bake 45 minutes or until heated through. Notes: * If I have more than a dozen people, I usually increase ingredients by 50% and use my lasagna pan. * Sometimes I make the whole dish the day before and then get it out early on T-giving to raise to room temp. When the turkey comes out, I pour about ½ cup of the turkey broth into the stuffing pan and reheat it for 15 minutes or so to get it hot again. Broth helps it be not too dry. * Instead of parsley, I’ve used the same amount of oregano. But the rosemary is worth getting for this; it makes it smell so awesome in the house. Bill LIttlefield’s Yeast Rolls
* Gently mix together the yeast, sugar and water. Leave alone until active. Active means it is bubbling and you can smell yeast working. It will look foamy. * Melt butter and shortening together. Cool to 115 degrees and then add to yeast mixture. * Stir in eggs and salt. * Add 3 cups of flour and stir until smooth. Add remaining flour 1 cup at a time, stirring constantly. * Cover loosely and refrigerate overnight, up to three days. The dough will double in the bowl. * Baking day - remove dough from fridge to allow it to warm up. 3 hours or so before baking, punch dough down and divide into fourths. Sprinkle countertop with flour and roll each fourth into a circle. Cut into wedges like a pizza. Starting with outer edge, roll each wedge into a crescent. * Spray cookie sheets with oil, and space rolls to allow doubled size when risen. Cover loosely with greased plastic wrap and let rise 3-4 hours. * Bake rolls 8-11 minutes at 400 degrees. Remove from the oven and brush with melted butter. * They freeze well. Spatchcocked Turkey
* Heat oven to 450 degrees, lowering top rack to middle of oven. * Put a kettle of water on to boil. * Put the turkey on a stable cutting board breast side down and cut out the backbone along each side of the spine. Save the backbone and organs, along with all vegetable scraps for making broth. * Turn the turkey over, and press down hard on the breastbone until you feel and hear it crack. Lay bird out on a cooling rack in/over sink and rinse thoroughly. No need to pat dry. Turn it skin side up on a cooling rack as flat as possible. * Pour boiling water gently and carefully over the skin of the turkey, causing it to contract and shrink. This will make skin crisper. * Remove bird from rack to a sheet pan in order to wash and spray the rack with oil. Place rack in a rimmed baking sheet. * Place bird back on the sprayed cooling rack and rub thoroughly with butter/olive oil, salt and pepper. * Score the skin on legs with a knife. Cut small slits in the sides of body and insert wingtips as far as they will go. * Tuck garlic and other aromatics beneath the bird. * Place the pan in oven and pour water into rimmed baking sheet, carefully; it will steam. * After 20 minutes, reduce heat to 400 and start checking temp every 15 minutes until turkey reaches 165 degrees in a couple of places. If browning too fast, reduce heat to 350. * Cooking time will be under 2 hours. * Rest bird beneath foil and a heavy towel for 20 minutes before carving. * Extract pan juices with a turkey baster to make gravy.
everyone knows that sand in your socks is the worst feet feeling ever. In the evening I finished three quilt tops and backs that have been 99% done for weeks. They are pressed and ready for the quilter. All of which is to say I went to bed believing I’d had a good day, because it was so . . . . productive, because I got so much accomplished.
I may have climbed in bed satisfied but I woke up uneasy. Uneasy as I remembered the costs I’ve paid over the years on days that were not productive, when very little seemed to get done. On those days I felt not good enough, unworthy even, almost as if I had failed, though I couldn’t tell you what I had failed at specifically. Being good enough, I suppose, probably because I got so much positive feedback from my parents and teachers for working hard at whatever work was before me. The feedback was even better when no one had to tell me what or how to do something, when I surprised them with my maturity, my dependability. The feelings such feedback inspired is the high I’ve chased ever since and the tender regret I had this morning. Because while they may be honest feelings, they are not my deepest values. Human beings, including me, are not worthy because of what we accomplish. We are worthy, we are enough, because we exist as creatures in creation. We are welcome and wanted here by the Maker who made us and loves us as we are, not for how tidy our spaces are, how orderly our finances. Living in sync with our deepest values is the essence of integrity, of being so integrated that thoughts, feelings, actions and deepest values lay one upon the other like transparencies that form the whole picture of one person, everything fitting rightly together. Integrity is a project to be sure, not unlike making a house into a home, bringing one room at a time into sync with the rest, with much grace toward oneself as they do their best day by day. The dog just came in positively filthy but only on one side of herself, while the neighborhood looks sparkling clean after the rain. Everything to its season, don't you know. I pray your day is fine in all the ways that truly matter. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette *I refuse to use the term lazy susan.
Every living soul, every breathing creature . . . one of those creatures is snorting and snuffling at my feet, her big furry body quivering. She’ll soon be legging the air, chasing the squirrels who haunt her dreams.
Every living soul, every breathing creature . . . a bluejay high in the cedar shrieking his morning shriek. His friend a good ways over is shrieking back in response. Every living soul, every breathing creature . . . the littles gathering at the bus stop, backpacks over jackets now, tiny versions of the college students they will someday be. But now with so much color, so much energy. All of it multiplied a thousand times over, all around the world ~ Every living soul, every breathing creature. The more things change the more they stay the same. Creation’s persistence against humanity’s poor judgment. Life insists on living. We can pour concrete two feet deep and the dandelion will push through and bloom. So long as I write and walk and hold the babies, read my Bible and sit with the silence, do my work and rest, take it very, very easy on the news and social media, I can stay in touch with where I am, the hollow of his hand. I am smaller than small and I am not alone in this fine world where birds, babies and dandelions persist despite the temperamental poverty of human imagination and faith. Every living soul, every breathing creature . . . We are here. We are together. We share more in common with our neighbors than we don’t. If we can lead from our hearts instead of our hurt, I’ve every hope and faith we can do the work of following Jesus, no matter what each day brings. I’m so grateful to be in the work with you all. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette What’s true is true no matter what . . . . November 5, 2024 Beloved: I woke up praying for calm and decency to rule the day. Toward that end I am entirely off social media and the news until tomorrow morning. Otherwise my own heart cannot possibly remain calm, nor my mind stay focused on what’s true no matter what ~ no matter what, now that election day is really here. No matter what, our lives and life together belong to God. In chaos or in calm, we are called to speak and walk and act out the peace of Christ which reigns over human fear and the trouble which erupts when that fear is induced. What’s true is true no matter what, I am reciting to myself throughout the day, a kind of sing-song as I walk the dog or make my lunch. No matter how much life changes. No matter how afraid or frustrated or angry I feel at any given moment. No matter how inclined I am to hope for specific outcomes for various situations. What’s true is that I control almost nothing that goes on around me and, also, God promised to be with me through whatever happens. So I control how I think about what goes on around me. I choose to remember the promise and the calling to partner with God and my faith community in this time and place: loving mercy, doing justice, acting humbly, insofar as I am able. What’s true no matter what is that the world around us is still desperate for the hope that life is more than work and bills, suffering and war. As Christ followers and people of the gospel we carry that hope within us, surely spilling from our pockets like candy wrappers left on a school bus. Our neighbors cannot afford for us to get shy now, with so much at stake. So, take a walk around the block, speaking kindness as you’re able. Wave a hand and pet a dog, share the vibe of hope in this anxious hour. What is true is true no matter what, that God is no less among us than God has always been and we are no less called to be people of hope here and now. ~ peace & prayers beloved, pastor annette October 29, 2024 Beloved: Bless you, Birdy! The dog sneezes so much this time of year I hardly hear it, not until the three-year-old blesses her so kindly. We were sitting on the porch eating popsicles yesterday, going over the day. She asked about my Halloween costume, suggesting I be a bat when I told her I wasn’t planning to dress up. She’s going as a spooky skeleton, spooky being her very favorite word these days. Spooky refers to cute bats and ghosts and witches, spiders, pumpkins and skeleton pajamas with glow-in-the-dark bones screen-printed on black fabric. Her life and her little brother’s is so safe and calm and gentle, a glorious bubble of childhood every little kid deserves and too few ever know. For no virtue on her part or her parents’ so much as the luck of being born when and where they were. The odds are entirely in their favor and yet, the very thought of something happening to them takes my breath away. Takes my breath away in a way that was not true when my own kids were little. Maybe I felt more in control then, or maybe I know better now just how awful some humans are toward other people’s children. The grandmothers of Gaza, Lebanon and Sudan. Grandmothers whose children and grandchildren are walking that terrible walk to the U.S. border, hoping against hope to be received. Grandmothers who are raising their grandkids with too little strength, in too small a space, on too tight a budget – because for whatever reason their kids are just not able to parent. I wish E. and R. could be little for longer, that this idyllic time of innocence could last and last. But I suppose those are the wishes of the privileged, that such innocence is itself a form of privilege. Hungry kids are not innocent. Kids whose families are hiding or on the run are not innocent of the meanness of this world. The best that we can do is do right by every kid we can, to love the ones we’re with and work for justice on behalf of all of them insofar as we are able. I’m headed outside for a walk in this delightfully breezy autumn. I pray the day is kind to you, and you have the chance to bless another creature. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette October 15, 2024 Beloved: I pick up my granddaughter at pre-school on Mondays. Yesterday she was wearing classroom rainboots, and her own shoes were lost. We searched for a solid twenty minutes. At one point the entire class was hunting for them, and all the while one little guy was following me close as my own pant leg, chattering lost shoe scenarios in my ear. What if a ghost flew away with her shoes? What if they are on top of a car and we have to find a ladder to get them down? What if they got in Bailey’s cage and she ate them? (Bailey is the classroom rabbit.) Between ideas he would shriek with delight at his own hilarity. A teacher finally located the lost shoes outside in a playground wagon. E. got changed and signed out for the day, like a worker clocking out, and we headed to the car, off to other adventures. Time stands still in some places. My kids attended preschool in that same school, that same room, that same teacher. E.’s classmates look just like the kids that were there 23 years ago, two feet tall and the stock photo epitome of human diversity, right down to the chatty boy with the spiky black hair. Only this is for real, a living community sharing space peacefully, helping each other when the need arises. It’s busy but not chaotic, noisy but not loud. Conflict is managed directly, clearly, wisely, gently, firmly. Am I just now grasping Tolkien’s meaning of the Shire, that land of little souls where time also practically stands still? Where snacks and naps are serious business, as serious as art and reading and caring for creatures even littler than themselves? Seventy years gone by outside those walls has not corrupted the pace and wisdom still persisting within them. What a privilege to pass through them again in this second half of life. I pray to be a better student this time around. The light and air today are glorious. I pray you get outside for a little while. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette * I’ll be on vacation next week, attending my favorite quilt retreat at the Presbyterian church camp in Brownstown, Indiana. * The Recipe: I made this last night, a final taste of summer as the tomatoes and herbs were the last from this year’s garden, my last jar of pesto from last summer, and eggs from a friend’s chickens. I forgot to take a picture of mine; this one is from the paper, with tomatoes cut differently. HEIRLOOM TOMATO TART Vallery Lomas, NYT Cooking Ingredients
October 9, 2024
Beloved: Today is my first day to dress in a sweater and socks. I almost turned on the heat but decided I can wait at least one more day. Now that the light is gone so much earlier, knitting, sewing and puzzles keep my hands busy when my brain is too tired to read. My garden is going to sleep anyway. While every plant around her is crackling dry, one bearded yellow iris has her silky second bloom. Yesterday I washed and put away the hummingbird feeders, and raccoons are nightly raiding my last two tomato plants. There’s nothing left to do but some cleanup after the first hard frost. I love fall and winter too, cozy being one of the best words I know. Instead of bingeing on tv or social media, I find a YouTube fireplace in some pretty mountain cabin, the next best thing to a real fire.* Next best thing – there’s a phrase, don't you know: the attempt to recover something lost, or to be satisfied with some lesser version of what we really want. I fall into the habit half a dozen times a day, then remember this new life is precisely that – new – and there are at least a half a dozen new ways to do it. There is no particular way life or faith must be done to add up as faithful; but, how old habits seek to convince me otherwise! I sometimes wonder if what I call anxiety is actually their pulling against my heart’s readiness to change, to move into this new life before me. Could be it’s just the changing of the seasons pulling at me now, as I look out the window where my hummingbird feeder was all summer. I’ll hang some suet instead. The tiny, achy sadness is more pleasant than not, knowing that soon it will be so very, very cozy indoors, with lots of projects and books and recipes to work on. In the midst of all of it, welcoming the change of another year of new life folded within a whole life of being loved, healed and sustained by the Spirit of the Christ who deemed us beloved – a picture of this life I may spend the rest of my life trying to comprehend. I pray this gorgeous day** is kind to you and you are kind in it. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette * I enjoy this feature of YouTube so much. There are probably hundreds of similar videos with lots of scenery and scenes. It’s very good for my mental health. ** Many prayers for neighbors in central Florida enduring Hurricane Milton today. Danger and damage is expected to be severe. October 1, 2024 Beloved: On Sunday we prayed for the mother of a Baptist minister in Tennessee. The mother was missing in the hurricane’s aftermath. Her body was identified later that same day, along with at least 130 other people known to have died in the storm. Many hundreds more are still unaccounted for and the devastation in Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina is still hard to fathom, even as we see it before our eyes in the news stories. At the same time, the helpers are showing up like an army. The best thing I read this morning is this:
Folks figuring out what they can do with what they have to help neighbors in trouble.
Further away, a war is widening, displacing more and more people, killing not a few, proving true the words of an American Civil War general, Ulysses Grant, that women and children always bear the greatest cost of war. We know about the bombed-out apartment buildings and schools. This morning's news carried a photo of a child sleeping in a car trunk, her family trying to get away from the violence. In Sudan people are dying of cholera and facing an unprecedented famine, because starvation has become a weapon of war. While here, on my tiny patch of planet, my heart hurts for all this suffering and I’ve no idea what I am supposed to do about it all. I could drive to Tennessee and show up at a feeding station I suppose, sans the mules of course, hoping not to be in the way of those who know what they’re doing. Or stay here and pray. And give. And keep my patch of planet tidy. And then pray some more, knowing it is no small thing to be in spiritual community with our neighbors who are struggling, grieving and afraid. I know well the power of distant community loving me by praying for me, by holding me in their heart when it’s hard for me to keep hope. This is the human experience, to be present in spirit when we cannot be together in the flesh, as the scriptures so often repeat. Maybe my ache to be present in body is more for my own relief than someone else’s, relief from the irritation of helplessness. For now I’ll stay put and pray, and leave the in-person helping to Mr. Toberer and the others who know what they’re doing. I’ll pick up sticks and snow shovel the 5000 ankle-breaking acorns and keep my bird feeders full. I’ll speak kindly to my neighbors, help the ones who let me help and receive what help they offer. I’ll do my best to hold prayerful space for people everywhere experiencing disasters of one kind or another. And finally, come Sunday I’ll attend this local vigil walk meant to convey our common hope for peace and healing in our community and the world. I’m grateful for its organizers and I hope you’ll come too. Details are below. The world is not all bad news, not by a long shot. But these are tough days for so many people close to us – it bears remembering our calling to bear witness to the loving presence of God, in word and in deed. I am grateful for your partnership in the work. ~peace & prayers, pastor annette September 17, 2024 Beloved: One Monday a month I cook almost all day. Meal prepping is the trendy word for it. But mostly, it’s because for the life of me I cannot figure out how to cook for just one person. The few years I cooked for two are now a distant memory. The nearly two decades I cooked for five are what’s embedded in my brain now. When the kids were growing and eating like horses, I was at the grocery store every other day and cooked supper every night. What leftovers were left weren’t left long. When two of my kids swam competitively, they ate supper twice a day, drank six gallons of milk a week, and leftovers were not a thing. First of all, it’s hard to shop for one, to buy just one chicken breast, two parsnips and three carrots, as my recipes yesterday required. I could do it, I suppose, if I wanted to shop the butcher’s case and a produce stand. And sell some plasma on the way in order to fund such high end fare. The beef stew I made called for a three pound roast. I could cut it down to a single serving - but I’m not sure even the butcher shop is going to sell me a six-ounce cut of chuck roast. So I made the whole recipe for about $30, or $5 a serving, and froze all but the one I’ll eat for lunch today. Far richer food than I could buy anywhere else for $5. Prideful, I’ll admit, is how I feel to see my little freezer stacked with containers of homemade food. But also, deeply grateful. Grateful too, for the food, the freezer, the farmer and the grocer. For the truck drivers and logisticians who move all this food from field to store. Grateful especially for the congregation who employs me and maintains just working conditions, so I have both the money and the time required to take good care of myself. I haven’t checked but I wonder if any of the meal prep content creators on social media have noted that that whole idea rests in privilege: in having the money to buy, the time to prepare and the space to store batches of meals? I’d bet my favorite pen no single parent working two minimum wage jobs to pay rent and feed her kids spends $150 and an entire day meal prepping. ($150 wouldn’t buy much for a family with kids when eggs are $3.42 a dozen!*) All of which is to say, I’ve tried to dial back on the pridefulness, trade it for another dose of humility in recognition of the privilege I did not earn so much as inherit and with which I must sit lightly, and responsibly. First of all, by not wasting food. Also, sharing it whenever I get the chance. I can also eat less - three meals daily is not a world-wide phenomenon, nor is meat at every meal. At any meal with meat, I am trying to pile on the green stuff. The cheaper green stuff, which is not my favorite but I’m working on it. I’ll eat the beef stew poured over spinach. The recipe below includes something I can’t believe I just discovered: stirring tahini** and balsamic vinegar together to drizzle over cooked green beans. Honestly I think I might eat corn cobs if they were doused in this concoction. As well, stirring tahini gives your arm muscles a workout, so there is that. I tripled the amount of green beans. Next time I’ll add mushrooms too. Tofu would work in place of chicken. It’s really, really good, and not wildly expensive. Rice would stretch it even more. Eating is so fundamental to existence and yet we are easily convinced it is a chore to be done with as quickly as possible. Even if you don’t spend hours at a time making ready, I pray some part of your day contains time and space to be grateful for how fortunate you are, for food to eat and people with whom to eat it. Hardly anything else is so deeply human. ~ peace and prayers, pastor annette *A quick internet comparison of Kroger, Walmart and Aldi’s showed Walmart's best price, non-organic, certainly not cage free, eggs at $3.42, compared to $3.77 at Aldi’s and $3.79 at Kroger. From there prices jump to over $4 all the way to $8 a dozen for some organic, cage free eggs. The average price a year ago was $2.80. Something like a 35% increase just to the lowest local. It’s like my mortgage going up $528 in one year. I’d have to cash out my retirement, or move. **Tahini is roasted sesame seeds, oil and salt - emulsified like peanut butter, only much stiffer. |
I write a Tuesday morning devotional to members and friends of UBC. It is also posted here.
Enjoy! Pastor Annette Copyright
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December 2024
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