One Size Fits All

There is a new wrinkle thrown into the mix of my holiday shopping this year. Instead of purchasing a gift for a particular person for our Moore family Christmas, we are trying a new feature for the annual gathering. Each of us is to bring a grab bag gift.

Since we are an opinionated crew, there was great debate about how much we should spend and whether or not the gift should be geared toward the male or female persuasion or suitable for either.

I lost that battle. The gifts are to be unisex.

I thought and I thought. And then I stumbled upon advice from that great gift giver, Erma Bombeck:

Wouldn't it be wonderful to find one gift that you didn't have to dust, that had to be used right away, that was practical, fit everyone, was personal and would be remembered for a long time? I penciled in ... Gift Certificate for a Flu Shot.

Thanks, Erma, for the perfect gift idea. I'm sure my family will love it.

Hey, everybody! Be sure and watch when I come through the door at Mom and Dad's. You won't want to miss getting this thoughtful gift. It's in the green and red wrapping paper.

Little Blue Box? Or Not?

What says love like a beautiful robin's egg blue-colored box? That's what Tiffany & Co. would have us believe, right?

But you don't have to have a ritzy 5th Avenue address to advertise that love comes in small packages. Lower rent jewelers also want us to believe that you can wrap up love and good will in a tiny box. The television ads promise "Every Kiss Begins with Kay's" or proclaim, "He went to Jared's!" In this make-believe world, a perfectly manicured wife opens up a little box while her proud and meticulously-dressed beloved stands beaming, ready to get that promised kiss under the mistletoe.

But for Kansas farm wives, the "box" may not be tucked under the tree, and it may not be so little. It might be metal, all right, but there's not too much that's shiny (unless the camera flash catches it in just the right light).

It may even be in a barn. After all, the best Christmas story of all time took place in a barn.

Last week, my farmer came home and told me he'd bought my Christmas present. It was a new calving pen for the barn.

Believe me, my heart swelled. (I just won't say what it swelled with ...)

He bought it from a neighbor who has retired from calving duties. Randy and Jake went to the neighbor's barn, dismantled it and installed it in our barn last week.

It came complete with a story about another farmer and his wife. He threw in the story for free.

This long-ago farmer was a big guy, and he married a petite lady who weighed about 90 pounds, soaking wet. (Obviously, no resemblance to this author!)

Anyway, the farmer's wife did all the milking. When she broke her leg, the farmer shared with another friend about what a good husband he was. He proclaimed: "I carried her all the way to the barn so she could milk the cows."

Wow, what a prince, right?

Maybe you were like me and were initially thinking that the calving pen might have been a gift more suited to Randy. That's OK. I thought it, too.

But then I got to thinking: Maybe this big metal box does say love. I remembered last February when Randy was at a meeting, and we had a heifer in trouble. My attempts to get the vet on the phone went unanswered.

Jake, a helpful neighbor and I finally got the calf delivered. But a nice calving pen, complete with head gate, would sure have made it easier.

A pen with lots of different gates and openings would make it safer for the people and the animals.

A breakaway gate would make it easier to coax reluctant first-time moms in the fine art of nursing babies.

So, even though I may have originally thought this gift was more about my farmer than me, maybe he really was thinking of me ... at least a little bit.

And I know someone else who's happy. After they got it installed, Jake proclaimed he was looking forward to using it.

What a guy my farmer is! It's a Christmas bonus for his employees - the paid one and the unpaid one.

Baking Crunch Time

It probably will not become the next Murphy's Law or anything famous like that. But I'll bet a few cooks might agree with my axiom: Don't bake your holiday treats too soon, or they may be consumed before said holiday.

But, with the final weekend before Christmas upon us, we holiday bakers are nearing crunch time - literally! There will be plenty of crunching continuing this next week ... IF we get our goodies made.

So I have a couple more tried-and-true cookie recipes for you. I used them for a cookie tray for Brent's graduation party, as well as for some of my contributions to the Stafford Ministerial Alliance Community Christmas refreshments last Sunday.

The first, Chewy Pumpkin Caramel Bars, is a recipe from Jill. You know I love a good bar cookie recipe - no dropping or rolling required.

The second is a simpler version of an old-time favorite from my childhood. At home, we made Date Balls in a skillet. In fact, my original recipe is called "Skillet Cookies." I found a microwave version, which I shared with my 4-H cooking kids earlier this year and then for my recent cookie making session.

Enjoy! And my best as you make your family's seasonal favorites or try some new recipes!

Chewy Pumpkin Caramel Bars

2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
2 2/3 cups sugar
2 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup solid pack canned pumpkin
3/4 cup vegetable oil
27 caramels, unwrapped (about 9 oz.)
1/4 cup evaporated milk
1/2 cup chopped nuts, divided

Combine flour, sugar, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda and salt in large mixer bowl. Add pumpkin and oil; beat until blended. Batter will be thick. Spread 2/3 of the batter into greased 13- by 9-inch baking pan. Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes.

Combine caramels and evaporated milk in small saucepan; stir over low heat until caramels are melted. (I used the microwave. I used 70 percent power and stirred frequently so I didn't burn the mixture.) Pour caramel mixture over baked layer; sprinkle with 1/4 cup nuts. Drop remaining batter by heaping teaspoonfuls over caramel mixture; sprinkle with remaining nuts. Return to oven for 20 to 25 minutes (top layer will be slightly soft). Remove to wire rack to cool completely before cutting.

***

Fruit and Nut Chews (Date or Apricot Balls)

1/2 cup margarine or butter
1 8-oz. package dried apricots or pitted dates (1 cup, chopped)
1 cup sugar
1 egg
2 cups crisp rice cereal
1 cup pecans or walnuts, chopped
1 cup coconut

In 2-quart glass measuring cup, cook margarine or butter on high 1 minute or until melted. Stir in apricots or dates and sugar, then egg, mixing well. Cook 5 minutes. Stir in cereal and nuts.

Drop by rounded tablespoons onto waxed paper (I used a cookie scoop). Using hands, shape each into a ball or a log. Roll in coconut. Makes about 30. If you make them that size, they are 100 calories: 6 grams fat, 7 mg. cholesterol, 45 mg sodium.

Stampede to Dinner

Do you remember the old movies where the farm wife stepped out to her porch and ran the dinner bell? The apron-clad mom would signal her family and the hungry fieldhands to the house for a splendidly-prepared meal.

We had our own version of the dinner bell with our latest cattle moving endeavor.

I "called" the girls to the pickup with a several bleats from the pickup horn, which signaled there was some hay available for an early afternoon buffet.


They responded at a dead run, with only a little coaxing from the guys on 4-wheelers.

I'm sure it was my superb cadence on the horn that made all the difference.

This time, we weren't taking them on any roads. We were moving them from one field of milo stalks to another.

Randy thought they might be tempted by a wheat field they would have to cross.

But they really didn't stop to dine. In fact, I had to hit the gas on the pickup to get in front of the thundering herd.

Then they got to the milo stalks, and they weren't that interested in the hay anymore. Evidently they have the attention span of toddlers.

Even with all the good eating available in the milo stalks, they ended up on volunteer wheat. It looked pretty paltry, compared to the vivid green they'd just run through.

Nobody ever said there was logic involved in cattle moving, did they?

But, Randy and Jake got the fence insulators back in place, and the mission was accomplished.

I'm sure it was the superior help. Aren't you?

Thumbprint Cookies

Looks can be deceiving. These cookies look fancy. But there's a secret.

I used a cookie mix as a base.

You know I'm perfectly capable of making cookies from scratch. (If you want to take a trip down memory lane, type in "cookies" or "bar cookies" in the search feature on my blog - upper left side).

But, I had a coupon. And I was making 27 dozen cookies for the church bazaar. So you'll have to forgive me if I took a shortcut on one recipe.

The recipe was on the back of the Betty Crocker sugar cookie mix. With the Christmas holidays just around the corner, you may need a shortcut, too.

I'll never tell. You don't have to either.

But if you prefer, you can use your own favorite sugar cookie recipe. Sure, make me feel bad, why don't you?

Seriously ... enjoy! Whether you're cooking from scratch or using that mix.

Thumbprint Cookies

1 pouch good quality sugar cookie mix (1 lb., 1.5 oz.)
1/2 cup butter
1 egg
3 tbsp. flour
1/3 cup seedless raspberry jam
1 cup white vanilla baking chips
Sugar, if desired

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Stir cookie mix, flour, softened butter and egg in medium bowl until soft dough forms.

Roll dough into 3/4-inch balls. Using thumb, make indentation in center of each cookie. Spoon about 1/4 teaspoon jam into each indentation. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes.

Microwave baking chips on High 1 to 2 minutes, stirring until smooth. Drizzle melted chips over cookies (I used a decorator tube). Sprinkle with sugar (can use colored - red or green, if desired. I used white sugar).

Note: I didn't have seedless raspberry jam. I used blueberry jam, which made my blueberry-loving husband happy anyway. You can use any kind of jam you'd like. The red jam looks pretty for Christmas though.

Makes about 5 1/2 dozen cookies

Breaking the Law

I didn't intend to be a law breaker. But it was right there on the sign: There was to be "No thru commercial traffic."

Well, cattle are our commerce (among other things). And we ended up having to use Fourth Street Road for a little commerce last week.

We weren't going the speed limit either. In fact, we held up a little traffic during our version of a cattle drive.

We moved cows from milo stalks to a small wheat pasture. Randy enticed them to leave with a little hay in the back of the pickup.

Then Jake and another helper, C.W., kept them along the straight and narrow with 4-wheelers.

I was parked at the corner. My mission: Slow people down with the flashing warning lights on the pickup and help turn the cattle south when they got to the corner.

The cattle cooperated. The pickup driver who got stuck behind the cattle was patient. All in all, it wasn't a bad way to spend a little time on a beautiful afternoon.

The cattle seemed happy, too.

I Know a Spot ...

I know a spot that I love full well

'Tis not in forest, nor yet in dell,
Ever it holds me in magic spell.
I think of thee alma mater.

K-S-U! We'll carry the banner high.

K-S-U! Long, long may thy colors fly.
Loyal to thee
Thy children shall swell the cry.

Hail! Hail! Hail! Alma Mater.

I wouldn't even venture a guess about how many times Brent has heard the K-State alma mater in his lifetime. He's been going to football games since he was a little boy.

But now, when he sings it, K-State truly will be his alma mater, too.

He earned his bachelor's degree in journalism and mass communications (and a minor in business) from K-State on Saturday.

This was a photo from a long ago first day of school. As you can see, Brent's attire prominently featured his beloved K-State football team. I think it was the same year that a para at Stafford asked Brent if he had any clothes that DIDN'T feature K-State. The answer? Not many.

On Saturday, Brent continued a family tradition that started nearly 80 years ago. My Grandpa Neelly graduated from Kansas State College in 1933. (He started school at K-State in 1926 and began playing football, but he had to take a few years off in between to return to the farm to make enough money to finish).

My parents attended K-State and were there on Saturday to see their fourth grandchild graduate.

All four of us Moore kids are K-State graduates. Three of us married K-State graduates. The three grandkids who are married all chose K-State spouses.

Two more of my parents' grandchildren are current K-State students. It remains to be seen whether the last grandchild (a high school sophomore) and the first great-grandchild will follow in the family footsteps.

I'd say the chances are good. There is more than a little purple in their blood.

As I sat at Bramlage Coliseum and waited for the graduation ceremony to begin, I couldn't help but think of tradition.

The younger generation of K-Staters has switched their mortar board tassels from right to left in Bramlage, though Bramlage wasn't there when most of us were K-State students.

But for Brent's big day, it was particularly significant to have this transition occur at Bramlage. He spends a lot of time there. As a student intern with K-State Sports Information, he's probably spent more time in Bramlage than he has in the classroom.

But, in truth, the K-State Sports Information job has been the biggest classroom of all. He got to be on the front lines when ESPN's College Game Day came to town (a thrill for a guy who lives and breaths college sports.)

He had a birds'-eye view from the press box during K-State football games the past two years (and got to see him childhood hero, Bill Snyder, return to the stadium that bears his name).

He had a front-row seat as Frank Martin and his K-State men's basketball team made a Sweet 16 comeback last year.

He has discovered that he wants to make collegiate sports his career. In January, he'll start work toward a master's degree in sports administration.

So, for this Mom, it seemed appropriate that Bramlage was the backdrop for Brent's graduation on Saturday. Though the strains of K-State's alma mater made me a little teary-eyed this time around as I faced yet another change as a Mom, I was thankful: Thankful for tradition and thankful for family.

Hail! Hail! Hail! Alma Mater.