There is a long view of life that gets clearer as I get older. Ten years seems like a short time and yet waiting a year for something seems a big investment of my days. In terms of family, I see now that we choose the memories to remember, and whether we know it or not, we choose the ones we create. It is the sum of these memories that becomes our experience - positive or negative - in the same way that it is the sum of our small, daily decisions that becomes our life. We can want our kids to remember happy childhoods but that takes two things - create happy memories with them, and then hope, when they are adults, they decide those are the ones to focus on.
It seems the things I remember most from my own childhood are things we
did. They were physical and memorable - water fights with my brothers, camping in the redwoods, playing a fairy princess in our kindergarten play, cooking with my granny. I remember kneeling on a straight chair in the kitchen so I could reach the counter, sprinkling the flour on a board, cutting in the shortening, kneading, rolling. It was fun and delicious. My brother Dean and cousin Roger used to have contests of who could eat the most biscuits - I'm thinking they topped off at about fifteen each. We ate them for breakfast with butter and syrup, or sometimes with fried chicken at Sunday dinner. Then we slathered them with peach jam.
If you don't do homemade biscuits you should try, just once. Let the kids roll and cut. Don't worry about the flour on the floor. The dog will lick it up, or you always have a broom. I'll have to make a batch to get the measurements - Granny taught me to eyeball the ingredients. Going now to do that. Back in an hour with the recipe:
Preheat oven to 400 F. (about 210 C.) Lightly grease a baking sheet. Mix 2 cups flour, 1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cut in about 1/3 to 1/2 cup Crisco until bits are smaller than peas. (Do this with two table knives. Hold one in each hand and pass the blades across each other as though they were scissors cutting the shortening.) Stir in about 1 cup milk until the mixture holds together and is sticky to touch. Turn it onto a floured surface. Knead the dough into the flour about 20 times until it feels smooth to the touch. It should be soft but not sticky. Flour your rolling pin and roll the dough to about 1/2 inch thick. Fold the dough in half and roll it out again. Fold again, this time leaving the dough about 3/4 inch thick. Flour a round biscuit or cookie cutter, or use the floured top of a small glass to cut your biscuits. Bake for about 12 minutes, until they rise and tops are lightly browned. Serve with butter and warm syrup.
When is the last time you sang? At church? Washing dishes? In the car? Has it been years? I used to sing all these places and now I rarely do. I got busy, and I just got out of the habit. Maybe people didn’t want to hear me. I think I’ll have to change that. When we were kids we always sang in the car. We sang hymns with my grandmother. I sang lullabies to my dolls. There isn’t enough singing, I’m thinking. Go ahead, sing.
