A Home for Phoebe

I'm pleased and excited to welcome my friend, Yvonne Blake, to my blog today. Yvonne has published her first book, A Home for Phoebe. This is an historical novel of an Indian woman and a young girl wandering the hills of the Hudson Valley during the mid-1800’s. One flees prejudice, while the other yearns for a home. Through the friendship of a peddler, a blind granny, and blacksmith's family, they learn of forgiveness and faith. 

Yvonne is embarking on a blog tour that will showcase one of her main characters: Zeke the Peddler. Let’s tag along to find out more about Zeke, Phoebe and Yvonne:

Zeke hops down from his seat, wearing a floppy hat and a gray coat, with sleeves much too short for his arms. His eyes sparkle and his mustache twitches, and he seems as tall as a weather vane on the top of the barn. Removing his hat, he bows low.

“Well, good day, folks. What can I help you with ? This here is a regular gen'ral store on wheels! Anything you want or need - I have it. Needles or tubs, buttons or pans - jewelry and fancy perfume, too!"

As you walk around the strange wagon, your eyes widen with wonder. There are pans, kettles, tools, and things you never saw before. Through the back door, you can see bolts of cloth, kegs, wash tubs, and hundreds of little boxes. Follow Zeke from blog to blog, and at each spot you'll find something new.

10 Things You Might Not Know About “A Home for Phoebe”

1. The setting is real – a few miles east of Albany, New York.

2. The Algonkin words are authentic, courtesy of Native American Languages.

3. The character of Phoebe was “born” in a creative writing class in 1976.

4. There are recipes for apple butter and egg noodles within the story.

5. The incident about the skunk happened to her Grandaddy Beverly.

6. There was an anti-rent war in New York during the time of the story.

7. It’s not a typical romance book, but a hint of romance is there.

8. Much of it is autobiographical. (Yes, I did roll big snowballs down a hill.)

9. You learn of Irving, Van Buren, and Rensselaer.

10. Lessons of faith, friendship, and forgiveness are woven throughout.

10 Things You Might Not Know About Yvonne Blake:

1. She was born on her grandfather’s birthday in a military hospital.

2. She could put together a puzzle of the U.S. when she was 2 yrs. old.

3. She knows how to say “Hello” in Navajo.

4. She swam in the Caribbean Ocean and ate raw conch.

5. She despises squash but likes liverwurst.

6. She played a flute in an All-State band in 5th grade.

7. She grew 6 inches in one summer when she was 14 but is still short.

8. She has traveled through 44 states but has never been to Washington D. C.

9.  She studied French for 6 years and taught it for 4 years.

10. She has been a child of God for almost 50 years.

Yvonne will be giving away a FREE copy of A Home for Phoebe at the end of the month, drawing a name from those who comment on the blogs or on her Yvonne Beverly Blake author page on Facebook, so be sure you comment here on my blog or on her Facebook page for a chance to win! Zeke will be moving along next to Suzanne Morneault's blog  on April 12th. Enjoy the journey! 

A Home for Phoebe can be purchased at:

Full Sail Books

Amazon.com

Like a Single Cup of Water

Why do I need to come into the chaos, sit down in the corner and absorb the confusion? The tension. The hurt. Why does it matter if I bring a tiny cup of something beautiful or calm or peaceful or restorative when the room is a cacophonous tornado; 

trouble swirling, dissension brewing, and flare-ups spewing. 

How can my single cup of water quench such huge thirst

 birthed of pain, insecurity and fear?

I've been turning away. Hiding in my sweet haven. 

Peeking between the curtains. 

Hording my tiny cup of water. 

Afraid to spill a drop or waste its sweet flavor 

on the burgeoning fire in the streets. 

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering...

But I don't want to offer the cup any more.

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering...

My tiny drop of water means nothing compared to the searing thirst.

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering...

What difference can I make?

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering...

Why does it matter?

Sit with me and tell me once again

Of the story that's been told us

Of the power that will hold us

Of the beauty, of the beauty

Why it matters

Speak to me until I understand

Why our thinking and creating

Why our efforts of narrating

About the beauty, of the beauty

And why it matters

Like the statue in the park

Of this war torn town

And its protest of the darkness

And the chaos all around

With its beauty, how it matters

How it matters

Show me the love that never fails

The compassion and attention

Midst confusion and dissention

Like small ramparts for the soul

How it matters

Like a single cup of water

How it matters

(Why It Matters, Sara Groves)

10 Weird Things About Me

As I was unpacking groceries, I caught myself pulling far away from the paper bag as I reached in to lift out the contents. I stopped to think about why I do this. (The answer is number one on the list below.)

 All that pondering led to this post: 10 weird things about me. I bet you have some odd behavioral coping mechanisms, too. And I know that's what my odd foibles add up to: coping. Baring my soul here, and my oddball behaviors.

1. I lean away from paper bags because, over the years, I've discovered I'm short enough to get paper cuts ON MY LIPS, if I don't. Yes. And heaven forbid I lose my ability to communicate just because my lips hurt when I talk.
2. I hate oatmeal. It is slimy and sticks on you after you eat it. Not a sticks-to-your-ribs kind of thing, but sticks ON your skin. No matter how hard I try not to let any oats escape the bowl, I always find a stray gummy oat somewhere on my arm after gagging down oatmeal. For that reason, I only eat oats raw. In cookies. With chocolate chips.
3. I have to smooth the blankets and sheets when I crawl into bed. No wrinkles. Every night. And since I am a night owl, my long-suffering husband has learned to deal with me padding around the king bed re-tucking the sheets and blankets on his side, as he sleeps, before I get into my side. I circle more than once, tucking and pulling and smoothing. Like a dog trying to get comfy in his doggy bed. 
4. If I find a human hair on anything while eating, I am instantly not hungry and will not be hungry for hours. I have a strong hair gag reflex mixed with strong memory recall. Just thinking about it very long can make me gag. I could use that aversion as a diet aid, but then I think I would die of starvation. There is no middle ground with hair on food for me.
5. I can only buy candles with food smells: flower smells will give me a migraine.Certain perfumes, air fresheners  and plastic bags will make me sick with nausea and migraines, too. It's all in the scent.
6. When I see white chocolate bunnies, I have a bad flashback to an Easter from childhood. White chocolate is a LIE from the pits of Ad Hades. There is nothing chocolate about it, and devouring an entire white chocolate bunny on your way to Sunday school leaves an oily slightly cod liver oil taste on the tongue. Along with a roiling tummy later. Trust me on this one.
7. I have a weird fascination about fruit flies. Ever since I had to anesthetize my group of vestigial winged fruit flies for genetics class, I have wanted to try that again, There is nothing more funny than spying with a microscope on a fruit fly as it awakens from anesthesia. They actually rub their teeny tiny eyes.
8. I would love to have a powerful microscope at home. I love microbiology and it was the most fun I ever had while studying science. I wonder sometimes if my draw to homeschool our son was nothing more than a powerful desire to play with science at home. 
9. If people talk about gross things at the table, I will not be able to finish my meal. But I love to sit and watch medical programs with all the gory details.
10. A man with long fingernails makes me feel queasy. It is so wrong. And gross. I can't watch a male guitarist pluck his strings using his un-trimmed nails. I have to shut my eyes or I will never hear the music, just see the claws. Pluck. Pluck. Pluck. I SO want to wrestle him to the ground, clip those nails and hand him a guitar pick.

Wow. Reading back over this list, knowing there are hundreds more I could have written, I realize I am one odd lady. Odd, but fun. I hope.

Amish Heritage Recipes

I've been asked to share a few favorite Amish heritage recipes. First I'll share a wonderful Kasekuchen (German cheesecake) recipe that I've made for years. It's a bit fussy, but so worth the work. In Germany, this is often served with coffee at breakfast.

Next I'll share my husband's very favorite dessert (and it tends to show up at the Yoder family reunions, as well), Graham Cracker Fluff.

Lastly, I'll share from Esther Keim's cookbook Homemade Goodies an awesome traditional peanut butter spread. Everyone loves Amish peanut butter spread, and I think the recipe from Esther Keim is the BEST! (To purchase her book, filled with authentic Amish recipes, click on the book title above or click this LINK ) Enjoy!


Kasekuchen (German Cheesecake)

*Preheat oven to 450
Crust:
1/3 C margarine or butter
1/3 C sugar
1 egg
1 1/4 C flour





Cream margarine or butter with sugar until light and fluffy. Blend in egg. Add flour in small amounts until blended. Pastry dough will be soft. With rubber r silicone spatula, spread mixture on bottom and 1 1/2 inches up the sides of a 9 1/2 inch springform pan. Place in 450 degree oven for 5 minutes. Set aside.

*Lower oven temperature to 250.

Filling:
3 -  8 ounce packages of cream cheese (room temperature works best)
3/4 C sugar
2 TBS flour
1 tsp vanilla
3 eggs
2 TBS milk

Combine cream cheese, sugar, flour, and vanilla. Mix at medium speed until well blended. One at a time, add eggs, making sure to mix well after each addition. Stir in milk. Pour filling into pastry-lined pan.

*Bake at 250 for 15 minutes.

*Turn oven temperature up to 300. Bake until set--about 25-35 minutes.

Cool. Remove side of pan. Allow kasekuchen to chill for several hours--best if chilled overnight. Add fresh sliced strawberries to top or topping of choice.Cut into 16 slices.

~ * ~

Graham Cracker Fluff
(Mrs. Eli J. Yoder)              1 C whipping cream
2 egg yolks                          1 tsp vanilla
1/2 C sugar                         3 TBS butter, melted
2/3 C milk                           3 TBS sugar
1 pkg. Knox gelatin             12 graham crackers, crumbled
1/2 C cold water
2 egg whites, stiffly beaten

Beat egg yolks. Add sugar and milk. Cook on low heat until slightly thickened. Soak gelatin in cold water. Pour hot mixture over gelatin and stir until smooth. Chill until slightly thickened. Add stiffly beat egg whites and whipped cream to mixture. Combine melted butter, and sugar. Mix well. Sprinkle half of graham cracker crumbs in bottom of dish. Add filling. Sprinkle remainder of graham cracker crumbs over top. Let chill until set. Serves 8.

~ * ~

Amish Peanut Butter Spread
(Esther Keim)
2 C brown sugar
2 TBS corn syrup
2 C peanut butter
1 C water
1 tsp maple flavoring
1 (16 oz) jar marshmallow creme




Combine brown sugar, corn syrup, water, and maple flavoring in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil. Remove from heat and let cool. Blend together peanut butter and marshmallow creme. Stir cooled syrup into the peanut butter mixture. Serve with crackers, bread or muffins.

Too Connected to Reply

Being kind to others through good manners seems harder to do these days. The social graces we used to employ now take more time or more effort or more brain power. I refer to the social grace of answering notes and being kind in responses. I refer to Facebook and Twitter and email and texting.

In an age when our technology keeps us in touch with each other more than ever before, a new phenomena occurs: ignoring others. Now that we can easily rely on word messages, we no longer have to answer phones to talk to people. Now that we can instantly message one another, it's easier and easier to ignore messages. Now that we have all the power in the world to connect, we seem to be falling into bad manners way too often. We ignore.

I'm guilty. If a message comes in at the wrong time, I can easily ignore it. If an email is lined up with 100 others, I can ignore it. I don't text...yet...but I'm guessing I will be able to ignore that, too, when I have the technology to do so.

I asked myself why I am prone, why we all are prone, to doing this? Why do we ignore others?

Often it is a matter of time. Too little time. We fill our days from morning until night with all kinds of time users. Some is work. Some is family. Some is maintenance of home or possessions. But let's be honest: sometimes, we just waste time and don't feel like being nice or bothering to answer.

We are making ourselves more selfish. We pick and choose. We hesitate in order to go on to something that may be more exciting. Sometimes we don't know how to answer. Or we're tired. Or we're not sure of the person contacting us. It boils down to being selfish with our time and our manners.

But really: It never takes too much time to frame a polite response.

Sometimes we have legitimate excuses: we miss messages and we do forget. Sometimes messages do not arrive in time or get lost in the mix or the sending. But many times, we ignore because we just plain don't want to deal with others.

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling bad about the amount of time I spend ignoring others. I'm not talking about ignoring mass mailings. Those are annoying time wasters. But when dealing one on one with each other, I know I need to be nicer, kinder, and more open. In a word: polite. Acknowledging my fellow human being should not be sloughed off, no matter how busy I am.

I think I'm going to try harder not to ignore. I think I'm going to try harder to be polite. I think I'm going to try harder to let someone know their written communication is a good thing, and not an annoyance. I think I'm going to try harder to reach out and...connect. Being polite is never wrong.