Nebraska Notes-Passages and Poetry: MORNING TALK WITH GOD: BLESSINGS AND FORGOTTEN TH...

Nebraska Notes-Passages and Poetry: MORNING TALK WITH GOD: BLESSINGS AND FORGOTTEN TH...: Lord, here sit at 6:45 a.m. a peaceful time of day for talking with you. It's quiet outside the way I like. There's just a bit of sn...

MORNING TALK WITH GOD: BLESSINGS AND FORGOTTEN THANKS

Lord, here sit at 6:45 a.m. a peaceful time of day for talking with you. It's quiet outside the way I like. There's just a bit of snow in the street. My coffee cup is to my right. The office here is scattered with paper, pens, books, a day bed, kitty curled up, a bit straw basket, mys white book case with glass doors, my garage sale book case, and the book case Milan made me, my writing, tussled  covers from a short night, the credenza with art supplies, some fabric, thread, embroidery  needles, pictures on the wall, a few dolls from my collection, nick knacks and art, pictures of family, my Bibles in the cupboard, a candle, a tape recorder for reading into, computers, my favorite stories, song books with songs I like, a box of family pictures, book markers with sayings, poetry that I wrote, thread, a closet with everything, vintage books, drawers full of dreams. In other words, my office defines me and my passions. Nothing big or fancy-that's not me. The things I like are small and intimate and connected to hobbies and interests. This is a sun room with a big window for the sun to shine in, I like seeing out with sun streaming in or a heavy snow falling.
I've described my room and and as you might assume it's special to me. This is the prob;em. To my right in a baskets a saying that my husband ran off and is framing for friends: WHAT IF YOU WOKE UP TODAY WITH ONLY WHAT YOU THANKED GOD FOR YESTERDAY. Lord if that had happened Iwould be without this room, without the food i just ate,  without my husband, my son his wife, our grandchildren, clothing, friends. I wouldn't have the Bible I tucked away, the brisk air to breathe, my mind, our church, my existence, the life I love or the land I find so beautiful, the people who protect America the pastors, doctors, store clerks, the garbage men, my vacuum, stove mop, or most importantly, I wouldn't have you-or rather I would undeservedly. I am not proud of this Lord thank you for everything you've so abundantly blessed me with, Help me to remember to thank you dearest Lord so generous

Preparing Pumpkin( 1919 )and the Virginia Pudding

Quote This from the 1909 Gothenburg Times regarding preparing the pumpkin-

The delicate flavor of pumpkin comes from the long and gentle application of heat. 
Stew the preparation 2- 3 hours. Then mix in the following ingredients:

To each cup of pulp add the following-
  two beaten eggs
 a cupful of sugar
 a tablespoon of corn starch, dissolved in a cup of creme- add-
-half a tsp of ginger and cinnamon and a lemon extract
add a large tablespoon of melted butter
add this to the paste mixture above and bake into a pie...

Virginia pudding is  a southern recipe,  although it is stated that Thanksgiving   is  seen as a Northern tradition  For this the baker needed one lb of stoned raisins, one pound of currants, and a forth a pound of citron (sliced in large baking bowl) dredged with flour a half pound of fresh suet was added and all mixed together-
in another bowl mix one half pound of butter with equal weight of sugar add six egg yolks and beat smooth-add one pint of rich sweet mild-

This is merely the beginning of the recipe. Should anyone want to fix this I will be so kind to write you the rest of the recipe--It surely takes days to fix-I can't imagine but the pioneer wedding cakes were much the same- made over a period of weeks so that one got the cake wrapped in paper.

The Virginia pudding had a sauce on top consisting of sugar. butter, egg white, and lemon rind. In my mind I see a beautiful plantation with a cook madly at work preparing this delicacy which also includes a variety of spices and fruit. I bet it was good, or at least interesting. I think I will stick to the pumpkin above and try an original pie...Happy Thanksgiving from Barb

I See You Lord

I love you Lord

My  Lord I really do

I see you in  streams that flow

In the glow of a butterfly's wings

In green grasses blowing

In the blue of summer skies


You are the heavens above

The joy in my eyes

My hope, my peace, my strenght 

Forever and eternal 

I adore and love you

You are everything good and true 

Barb Franzen

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Inner Joy: Not Apart

Inner Joy: Not Apart: Not Apart She might have died but wait… We’re not apart− not yet I see her in the curl of the windy waves, hear her  knock ...

A Child's Sandhill Play

I always thought of the hills in back of our home in Lincoln County, Nebraska as being the Sandhills. I was wrong. The Sandhill's soil extended itself out to the Platte River about a mile and a half south of my house. This mile and a half between the Platte River Valley and home, was pasture land. One could stand in the pasture and see the ranch which was nine miles away, consisting of clay land,  fed by the Platte River.
    McCullough's Grove was  a part this area and a  favorite for the entire town. . By crawling between  barbed wire, one found themselves  in a grove with hundreds of fallen logs, trees, owls, and birds. School kids came here for a picnic each year. Back then we brought a sack lunch and everyone had to cross our pasture to get there.That made me proud though it seems funny to consider this.
    My family made great use of that forest. Evenings we would go there for picnics. My father cooked our meat in a skillet while having a work day beer. After eating, we'd sit still in the dark with the awesome, silent cottonwoods, ash, and  elm trees  standing overhead,  with cedars everywhere, keeping their secrets along with the owls and their hoots. One year my older sister had a Halloween party there and hung mummies from the trees, Dad was in charge of dropping them to the ground when the girls walked by. It scared them witless. My sister also built white graves, did the grapes for eyes trick, and other antics. It made for a fabulously spooky and fun party. Other times, we picked currents at the grove. Mother made current jelly which was the best. My friend Eddie and I walked the grove many a hot summer day. There here was an old abandoned house where a man had lived. No one knows who it was or when, but there was a stove pipe and walls still there.
   To the right of the grove, a  cow tank overflowed making a small pond. Eddie and I would walk there after school and put on our skates. It was horribly cold and it seems amazing that we would put ourselves through such a long walk. At that time, we still did not have television or air conditioning. Frankly, I for one am glad. It gave us a chance to be one with nature and the outdoors and to develop patience. Nothing was instant. Usually you had to involve some sort of effort to derive satisfaction.
    Along with the grove, I had my playhouse in the top of our barn which was built to match the house. The playhouse was upstairs and quite elegant. I had my parents red velvet table and chairs up there and I also had little crystal dishes that were my grandmother's. Kids came from town to play there with me. The horses were right outside in the corral. One day Eddie and I got in the tank trying to find the hematite ring that Dad lost. He said he'd pay us. We found it but didn't get paid. He never forgot his omission. Years later in his late eighties, he walked out on Christmas with the ring. It went to my son, and Dad apologized. As I look back to my Sandhills formation years, I feel warm inside. At the time, I thought growing up there was punishment Little did I know the values that would come to me as a result of those hot summer days and frozen winter months. This land still beckons me, calling out, "I am yours forever..." 
Next the ranch, homesteading, and the Platte Valley-templeranch.templeranch.wordpress.comwordpress.com

My Home-Nebraska Sandhills-Prairieland

   I am passionate about the Nebraska Prairie. As a child growing up just outside the small town of Brady,Nebraska,  my father's ranch was nine miles south (with clay soil), while we lived  at the foot of the Sandhills. It was here that I spent hours hiking the hills, hunting for the lake that "didn't exist," and chasing lizards whose tails fell off in my hands. I also found snakes and blowouts from which I jumped, enjoying the free sail through the air. The Sandhills were barren and greatly void of trees. Loaded with various grasses and a sand base, they made wonderful grazing country for cattle. Raising crops was harder due to lack of irrigation and water. A classmate had a party one night and a friend and I sat and looked over the land from a hilltop. Some forty nine years later, I remember how the snow reminded of a huge ocean under the moonlight.That land spread out for miles, hill after hill, unhampered. It was awesome.
   My wish was to spend a winter up there, a really bad blizzard, snowed in. I wanted generated heat, garden produce, canned meat, and all the amenities needed for survival in this less populated area of the United States. Little did I know that these hills were one of a kind. That they weren't to be found anywhere else in the world. Today, authors write a fair amount about them and the people who lived there.I find the Sandhills  most beautiful at sunset, during the winter, when they take on a cold bluish hue that makes me want to fix warm stew when I go home.
   The Sandhills were filled with jack rabbit and pheasants. I used to go with my dad who hunted these rabbits.. I have a picture of me standing on the hill with about six rabbits dangling from my arm..Other times, Dad would go pheasant hunting and he and his pharmacist friend, and a man named, Doc Pyle, would go up north and shoot these birds.Both the rabbit and  pheasant made for delicious eating-I keep feeling that I should apologize. I wasn't the hunter and I didn't watch. Anyway, along with these, I would listen to the coyote howl at bedtime, an eerie, but wonderful sound. Rather lonely.
   One day when I was alone and hiking-I went to my favorite blowout and was on my way home, I looked down and saw a fully beaded and most colorful snake. It took my breath away-both because it was http://templeranch.wordpress.combeautiful and also because I feared it might be poisonous-though I knew it wasn't a rattler. As I remember it had blue and orange beading. I still wonder what it was that I encountered.
    I had a relative, Art Nelson, who owned the Big Dipper Ranch up in the Sandhills north of Brady in Wild Horse Valley. His cattle brand was made to represent a dipper, and he had cowboy boots on the top of the fence posts, used to greet people. At least one pair of boots were still there a few years back.
    I am going to stop here with the Sandhills. I will return with the clay hills, south of the Platte in the Platte River Valley next time. After that, I want to write about the plains in their very early state before they were settled by hundreds of pioneers. After that I have my vast collection of literature to share from.
   The wondrous prairie with its grass, wildlife, flowers, and all that makes it quaint and charming, is part of my heartbeat and soul.  Please share your thoughts and knowledge.I would be most grateful. 

From -The Rag Princess by Barb Franzen

This is a later scene from the Rag Princess-hopefully out by Christmas. The war has just begun and Will and Celeste were on the way to the movie but take a detour out to what would have been Pioneer Park were it built in  1941,--- Will  was turning the car around. No movie for him when something huge had just begun. Before long he’d be bombing the Japanese. After all, he would be   among the first to go over. What did that mean? Did the first to go ever come home? Go first-die first? Suddenly he was gripped with terror.

     Celeste was still grasping what she’d heard. War! Japan, United States, Pearl Harbor…where and what was that?  Franklin Roosevelt…War! Will…No! Not Will! He couldn't leave her, not now…not ever.  She could feel Will’s terror. Will would undoubtedly be one of the first to go. She looked over at  him and suppressed a sob…a scream… NO- She was not going to fall apart. Hadn't she  just discussed his strengths versus hers, with him?  She'd told him he was dependable and supportive? If his face was any indication of what she could do, then by golly she would. She would not fall apart on him. If there was one thing  Sylvie had taught her, it was what people needed when they were trapped and fearful and lonely and all of those hideous dark things. She would be Will's cookies and letters and more than that, she would be his unconditional love.

     “Will, this is your chance to show your stuff  and learn your stunt flying.”

              “You think so.?” he asked,