So Chill

I don't recall just when I became such a cold wimp. Did it happen overnight, or was it a gradual thing? The fact is that cold is now more than a mere inconvenience for me, it's a pain!

Bundled at a football game fall 2018

Snowbirds - nickname for people who go south for the winter. My grandparents and parents were snowbirds - escaping Iowa in October, returning in the spring. My mother's parents, Nelle and Herb Morehead, actually retired permanently to a place in Dunedin, Florida. Dad's parents rented a condo (we'll use the short version of the word because my grandpa could never quite pronounce the full word, condominium (ninium, minum..?)) in the St. Petersburg, the Redington Beach area.

Weeks like the last few in Iowa have me daydreaming for warmer places. I love Iowa and our life here. But my bones (and other parts) are tired of being cold - she types with fingerless gloves on, covered with a heated blanket. 

Showing off in ski gear - 1970's Jennifer Deter, Vicki Behr, Steve Hauser - Breckenridge

Memory lane has me playing outside for hours, only surrendering to the cold when I couldn't feel my toes anymore. When we went to Sunnyside Park to ice skate on the flooded tennis court, they were wise to put heaters in that little shack - for a warm-up hut. I skied in cold weather before thin but warm fabrics were invented. Ski boots weren't warm and socks and mittens/gloves got better through time. I started in cotton athletic socks and woolen mittens.

Before schoolboards came to their senses and girls were allowed to wear pants to school, I walked to school in dresses. Sometimes we put pants on under, but you know how fashions are. In upper elementary school, that became "uncool". I remember rubbing my red frozen thighs to get them warmed up after the four block walk. Yikes!

In college, we sat at a few super cold ISU football games way back - before HotHands were invented. I remember thawing my toes out by a heat register. That is painful.

These days I'm much colder and smarter. I get cold just sitting at my desk or in my chair at home. Ugh! I envy those who are warmer blooded. Dare I say "hot" - yet they complain about being uncomfortable in their state too. There are pockets and people on 5th floor of the Wallace Building that are warmer. The rest of us bundle up. I plan ahead for where I'm going and the layers I will need. If I get too cold at events, I leave. (not work - haha).

Those who live and winter in the south are righteously trolling those of us getting nailed with winter weather. Sister Betsy who lives in typically moderate SW Washington has received an amazing amount of snow recently. They don't have snow handling equipment in that area. Seattle got some white stuff too. 

We are expecting more snow and more cold weather in the next week. It's a good thing we are hardy souls - with lots of layers! 

Slip Sidin' Away

It's a snowy Sunday in Iowa. We got about four fluffy inches of the stuff overnight. We're having a real winter this year - sneaking through December with little of the white stuff. People even played golf late into the year. Then January hit.

Years like this one remind me of my childhood in smalltown Iowa. Our garage was filled with a variety of sliding objects - wooden sleds with metal runners, an aluminum toboggan with a green cloth pad, and the wild and crazy metal saucers that looked like hubcaps.

A day like today would have been filled with a number of sledding "runs". We were in and out of the house several times a day, with breaks to warm up and have snacks. Our yard, before we built the deck at the top of the hill, was perfect for sledding. We piled on a variety of winter clothing with woolen mittens. The boots back then were the rubber kind that you put on over your shoes. I don't know how Mom kept all those sizes straight! She did insist we use the back door for entry and exit - right into the laundry room.

When we got tired of our own little hill, we headed for bigger challenges. The biggest we could walk to was Washington Hill - near the Elementary School. The only problem there was Buck Creek at the bottom. Gulp! I never did hit water there. One time I was some guys sledding on a car hood. That baby ran fast! It was fun when someone took the time to make a snow mogul, or jump to route the sled over. Sometimes we sledded so long, our extremities would be frozen. Well worth it though. Fun!

Later, when we had kids, we had modern versions of sleds and we had fun all over again sledding. By then someone had invented blow up sleds. Our dog Moki loved to chase that sled as the kids slid down bus barn hill near our first home on Prairie in Creston.

Snow. Yeah, I get sick of it. But when you embrace it - it's a lot of fun!

Casseroles

My mother, Pat Bullock, was a casserole queen. She started married life as someone who didn't know how to cook. Lucky for her, she was so gorgeous and smart, Dad didn't mind. #hemarriedahottie

My parents, so young! and Dad's parents

Then she popped out four daughters in eleven years. Dad started traveling the state of Iowa Monday through Friday, repping Lorraine Lingerie. Mom learned to cook the basics. Susi, Cindy, Betsy and I laugh about the things she served us. I don't know how she stayed sane, cranking out meals every night, week after week. No wonder Mom came up with exotic delights like open face hot dog buns with hot dogs and cheese - broiled in the oven. Toasted ham salad sandwiches - ugh! We'd usually also have a salad offering like a canned pear slice on a bed of lettuce with grated cheese. The lunch menu was a peanut butter sandwich that includes a crisp piece of iceberg lettuce on white bread. Campbell's soup - chicken noodle or bean with bacon.

Mom at the stove

Dressed up to cook! 

You know I didn't really pay attention to my mother's needs when I was a kid. Most kids don't. Moms are service providers, right? I feel so fortunate that she worked hard to provide for all of our needs, raising us in our ranch house in small town Iowa. It was an idyllic childhood - one I remember fondly. Our parents didn't need to arrange play dates, the neighborhood was full of kids - families of four to seven running loose on foot and on bikes. At meal time she hollered for us or rang the bell by the back door. We came running.

My Mom didn't have aspirations to be a short order cook. Like many in the post-WWII era, she was a stay at home Mom. In her later years, I learned how much that took a toll on her own ambitions. She graduated from the University of Iowa, tops in her program - Political Science. Mom was busy in our little town - a valued Red Cross swim instructor in my younger years, a Cass County Hospital Board member, and she was active in the Republican Party. But she must have had that "woulda/shoulda/coulda" feeling - if only she'd been born later.

Mom's Thanksgiving dinner

My own years of meal planning and cooking - with the equal partnership of my spouse, increased by admiration of the job Mom did keeping us fed. Even if I do look back laughingly at the menu. In her later years Mom became a good cook. She worked at it! And Dad was the grillmeister. My sisters are all good cooks. I prefer cleanup duty - but can put together a recipe when pressed into service.

Of course, Mom cooked AND took the photo! 

Some people don't like leftovers. I thank Mom for my love of leftovers and the marvelous concoctions we call casseroles. She was especially good with Thanksgiving leftovers. Yummo!

I've never had the magical ability to combine the ingredients to end up with a meal. Thank you, Hamburger Helper! (Amy and Jud may not agree). This work outside the home mom needed all the help I could get to put meals on the table after a long day. We didn't always eat meals out of a box. There were jars (Prego) and cans (Cream of soups) included too. Spaghetti, chops, parmesan chicken, enchiladas and everyone's favorite (okay Paul's and mine) hamloaf. Not a lot of good fish available in SW Iowa back then. We did make a lot of soup - in the Crock Pot and clay cooker. I did have a few fave casserole recipes.

Casseroles mean more to me than food. They mean mealtime - togetherness. That's the best part. It isn't always easy to get the family together for meals once the kids hit sports practice age. Mom would keep a plate warm for me. We did that for our kids. Paul and I still try to eat at the table each night. Unless the Cyclones are playing. We do have our priorities!