Wait

Wait.

Even saying the word has a certain "weight" to it, doesn't it? It forces us to take a deep breath and try to slow the tick, tick, ticking of an anxious heart. It asks us to still the thoughts that tumble helter-skelter as we skitter along to the next task, the next big thing on the all-important to-do list.

I wait for the right words to come.
I wait for the list to be done. (I'm still waiting!)
I wait for this event.
I wait for that event.

As I was driving home from a doctor's appointment in Hutchinson last evening, I watched the sun's fireball slip underneath the mantle of the earth.

My mind immediately kicked into high gear. I kept looking for a good place to pull over so I could take a photo. But there were obstacles.

In town, the view was blocked by power lines and buildings.

At the cemetery at Rayl's Hill, trees were blocking the sightline I craved.

I thought about turning down an unfamiliar country road to look for a barn or a silo or a single bare tree - something with which to silhouette a brilliant night sky.

But I waited - not so patiently - but I waited. I kept my eyes open and scanning along the horizon, watching and waiting.

I knew there was a windmill along 4th Street Road, but would I get there before the inky darkness covered all traces of light?

Yes. But while the photo shows a glimpse of the slide show I watched as I raced westward, it doesn't tell the whole story. It doesn't show the incremental changes in the western sky. It doesn't show the pink fingers of light that insistently reached into the eastern sky, the vista that didn't feature the main attraction but was still enriched with its remnants.

This is the season of waiting. It is the season of expectation.

But last night's sunset was a reminder to savor the journey. Would I have truly seen the sun's reflection in the field's shallow puddles if we hadn't experienced a summer of drought? Would it have made the same impression if it didn't come after several cloudy days when day turned into night with little fanfare?

I wait for the birth of a new baby in our family. But in my excitement, let me not overlook the birth of another baby, a Baby who changed the world.

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given;
And the government shall be upon His shoulder;
And His name shall be called
Wonderful
Counselor
The Mighty God
The Everlasting Father
The Prince of Peace
Isaiah 9: 5-7

***

Yes, it's Thursday. But I linked to Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky. I guess I had to WAIT until Thursday this week.

I'm also linked to Fresh from the Farm.

Farewell, My Friends ...

The cold and dreary weather has kept me on the treadmill instead of outside. But that’s probably for the best anyway. My walking buddies are gone. And it would be a little dreary without them, no matter the temperature.

Ralph and Millie were gone when we got back from South Carolina. For the first few days, I kept thinking they would just show back up some morning, bounding with energy and ready to go on our daily walk. But as days passed, we faced the facts. Ralph and Millie weren’t coming back. The next hard part was telling Brent. We waited until after he was done with finals.

Ralph was Brent’s dog. Before he left for college, he made me promise that I would pet Ralph and talk to him every day. It became part of my daily walking routine. In the beginning, Ralph always went with me. As the years passed, sometimes Ralph would wait at the back steps while I did the walking. But he was always ready for our little talk, whether he did the workout or not.

Brent & Ralph - 2006 - before Brent left for K-State

We got Ralph at the Stafford County Fair one year. Our neighbor brought a pen of puppies to the fairgrounds. The “Free Puppies” sign was more popular among the 4-Hers than the concession stand. Brent begged to bring one home. And we did. We told Sharilyn that she wouldn’t have had to drag all the puppies 11 miles to town. She could have dropped one off 2 miles north since that's where he ended up.

Our other dog, Mindy, taught Ralph all about life on the County Line. As Ralph’s muzzle turned more gray than black, we thought it was time for Ralph to be the dog equivalent to Yoda. He could teach a new puppy about barking to alert us to visitors. He could demonstrate the importance of staying around home. He could let a new dog know that cattle weren't to be chased. So we brought Millie home in June.

Jake cared for the dogs and cats while we were gone to South Carolina. He last saw them on Sunday, November 27, the day before we came home on the 28th.

Would it have mattered if we'd come home one day sooner? Probably not. But it still makes me sad. We drove up and down the dirt roads around our house. We talked to neighbors. Nobody seems to know what happened to Ralph and Millie.

I'm the first to admit it: I don't equate pets with people. I don't like to have animals in the house, and I would never refer to a pet as a child. But I sure do miss my walking buddies.

Maybe the Hutchinson Animal Shelter's application should have a line or two regarding the track record of human applicants. During my growing up years, we had a bunch of different farm dogs, probably 6 or 8 of them.

Me at 10 1/2 months

Some were run over. Some ran away. Some got sick. My dad suspects one was stolen.

(Me at 5 1/2)

As the kids were growing up, we've had six dogs. They met the same fate as dogs from my youth. It's part of the cycle of life on the farm, I suppose.

But Brent's dog, Mindy, died of old age.

And we hoped it would be the same for Ralph and for Millie.

This was a post I didn't want to write. I prefer happy endings.

BBQ Chicken Pizza

Thanksgiving is probably the most traditional food holiday around. Let's just say we turned Thanksgiving on its ear this year.

No turkey for us. Dressing was nowhere to be found. Grits took the place of mashed potatoes and gravy. The closest thing to a traditional ham was bacon.

To follow up our South Carolina shrimp and grits Thanksgiving dinner, Brent and I collaborated on BBQ Chicken Pizza for supper. A friend in his master's program had brought a similar pizza to a party. I looked at some recipes online. He tried to remember what she'd included in her version.

And we came up with a pretty tasty pizza. I'm fairly confident it will appear on his table and in the County Line kitchen again.

Brent's apartment kitchen isn't what we would call spacious. Counter space is at a premium, and let's just say that his pantry isn't quite as diverse as mine. We purchased a refrigerated pizza dough at his neighborhood grocery store. (His sister will be glad to see that we got whole wheat.)

Using the prepared crust was easy and tasty, too, but you can certainly make your own homemade version. I probably will, since my grocery store doesn't have handy, dandy bags of pizza dough (plus it's easy to do with some flour, yeast, water and salt)!

Serve with a green salad or some fresh vegetables, and enjoy!

BBQ Chicken Pizza

2 tbsp. olive oil
1 pound chicken tenders
1/2 to 1 whole red pepper, diced
1 bunch green onions, diced
4-6 slices of bacon, cooked until crisp, then chopped
Approximately 2/3 cup barbecue sauce of choice (We used Sweet Baby Ray's)
1 pkg. refrigerated pizza dough (or make your own homemade)
Approximately 2 cups shredded cheese (We used a fiesta blend with cheddar and mozzarella)
1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
3 tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro leaves

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Heat oil in large skillet over medium heat. Chop chicken tenders into bite-sized pieces and saute until golden brown, about 12 minutes. Remove from heat; set aside. Toss with about 2 tablespoons of barbecue sauce.

In the same skillet, cook diced peppers and onion in oil, sauting until tender. (We cooked the bacon in the microwave, but you could also add the bacon to this step, cooking until browned and crispy.) Combine the vegetables, bacon and chicken; toss together until ingredients are evenly distributed.

In a large pan, spread your pizza dough out evenly. You can use a large pizza pan or a 15- by 10-inch rectangle pan.

Top with remaining barbecue sauce. Spread chicken mixture evenly over the BBQ sauce. Top with shredded cheeses and sprinkle with Parmesan cheeses. Sprinkle minced cilantro leaves on top.

Bake for 15-20 minutes or until cheese bubbles and is slightly browned. Cut into pieces and serve.

Notes: If you really wanted to make this easy and you live in a larger town than I do, you could use a rotisserie chicken instead of browning your own chicken. You could also get peppers and onions from a salad bar so you didn't have to chop. The grocery store where Brent shops doesn't have a salad bar, so we did the chopping ourselves.

We were in South Carolina, so we didn't have Curly's BBQ sauce, which is what we usually use. But Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ Sauce was good, and I did see it's available in Kansas as well. Also, we didn't actually measure. Just spread a thin layer of BBQ sauce over the pizza dough. I got the measurement from another recipe because I know some people don't like the whole "use your own judgement" recipe notes!

Banana-Pineapple-Cherry Nut Bread

Nobody will be standing in line at the department store to return a gift of homemade food.

If you're looking for a holiday gift from the kitchen, add this to your quick bread arsenal. My Mom recently gave me the cookbook Incredible Food: A Collection of Recipes by PEO Sisterhood, Chapter IF.

It wasn't even Christmas yet, but I have already put the gift to good use. I tried three different quick bread recipes and contributed them to our annual church bazaar last month. (Of course, we taste-tested them at home, too.)

Gifts from the kitchen are never the wrong size. And even if the recipient doesn't want to eat them, they can always stick them in the freezer and bring them out for their own family or work holiday gatherings.

Put the batter in smaller loaf pans. Make this recipe and other favorites (scroll down after this recipe for some other ideas from the County Line kitchen). Wrap well in plastic wrap, tie ribbons around the loaves, add some holiday stickers and package them together in a holiday sack or on a holiday plate.

One of my church friends, Shirley, buys pretty plates at rummage sales. Then she shares her homemade angel food cakes on a real plate instead of a flimsy paper plate. If you keep your eyes open throughout the year, you can have a stash of holiday trays, plates and tins ready to use to dress up your holiday gifts from the kitchen. Or check out the shelves of the dollar stores or party stores for pretty, yet inexpensive, holiday plates and trays.

Enjoy!

Banana-Pineapple-Cherry Nut Bread

1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup shortening
2 eggs
1 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. baking powder
2 cups flour
10-12 maraschino cherries
1/2 cup nuts
1 cup crushed pineapple, drained
3 medium ripe bananas, mashed

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Cream shortening and sugar. Add eggs. Mix well. Combine dry ingredients and add. Stir in mashed bananas, crushed pineapple, cherries and nuts. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes in two small greased loaf pans or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

***

And here are some other County Line tried-and-true recipes to try for your own holiday baking or gift giving. (Just click on the underlined titles to find the recipes.)

Pumpkin Cranberry Bread

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread

Byers Banana Bread

Butterscotch Poppy Seed Bread

Painting Purple

I'm recovering from altitude sickness this morning. OK, not really. But I am tired.

My fatigue is not caused by the trek to the top of the Intrust Bank Arena, though we were within one row of the top. (My face may have been RED by the time we got to the top.)

Nope. It was that double overtime which was past my bedtime (or at least the time that I normally fall asleep in my chair). We were among the 15,004 people who helped to Paint Wichita PURPLE yesterday when our K-State Wildcats played the West Virginia Mountaineers.

I actually think Purple People helped paint Wichita GREEN. We probably weren't the only Wildcat fans who came early and did a little Christmas shopping or ate at a local restaurant before the game.

I just wish I had been tickled PINK by the outcome of the game. I was actually a little BLUE.

A Day That Will Live in Infamy

Photo by Brent Fritzemeier

It was a typical Sunday. Early church bells had just begun to ring. Some servicemen were still sleeping. Others were on their way to breakfast.

But the ordinary turned to extraordinary in just moments. On that Sunday morning, the first two waves of aircraft - about 180 planes - roared off the decks of Japanese carriers north of Oahu at 7:49 AM.

At 7:55, the quiet morning at Pearl Harbor was ripped apart when the first Japanese bombs dropped. Some Japanese aircraft swooped down on the harbor and Battleship Row. Others headed for nearby airfields, where American planes were lined up, wing-tip to wing-tip. Within minutes, the aircraft were reduced to useless heaps of torn and melting metal and the harbor was choked by black smoke and fire as mighty ships slipped toward the ocean floor.

A few minutes into the attack, a message was sent to the U.S. capitol: Air raid, Pearl Harbor - This is no drill! Pearl Harbor was pounded with bombs, torpedoes and bullets from 7:55 until 9:45 AM. As the Japanese planes roared away, they left 2,403 American officers and fighting men dead and another 1,178 wounded. Civilians were also caught in the crossfire of the surprise attack.

For most Kansans, it was just another typical Sunday. Many had gone to church and were relaxing with their families and friends after a big Sunday dinner on this day of rest. Many had been listening to the Sunday afternoon broadcast of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra when the first newsflash interrupted the programming.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt had hoped to keep America out of World War II. All that changed on December 6, 1941.

Photo by Brent Fritzemeier,
the Washington Monument from the World War II Memorial

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the attacks on Pearl Harbor. A few years ago, I interviewed about 20 servicemen and women who had served our country during World War II. The stories were a series of articles for the Wesley Towers Tapestry. All of them were residents of the Hutchinson retirement facility.

The interviews were some of the most moving stories I'd ever heard. They talked humbly and quietly about their service at Guadalcanal, the Island of Tarawa, the Aleutian Islands, Italy, at the Battle of the Bulge, the Battle of Leyte Gulf, the Battle of Okinawa and on ships in the Pacific. Two of the men actually saw the flag raised on Iwo Jima. Some served on bases on the homefront. One woman shared her experiences as the wife of a Prisoner of War. They represented all branches of the armed forces. Whether they served on American soil or overseas, they did their part to fight for America's freedom.

Each Sunday, our church bulletin lists men and women from our community who are serving our country. These were the kids I watched on the football field. I served some of them cupcakes at classroom Valentine's parties. They, too, were doing ordinary, every day things in a small town in South Central Kansas. Yet today, they are doing extraordinary things to serve our country. It is their efforts - and the sacrifices made by their families left at home - who help us to continue as the land of the free.

Our little community is no different than others across the nation. On this 70th anniversary of "a day that will live in infamy," let us never forget. It's more than a page from a history book.

... Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King.

Enjoy this duet rendition of My Country Tis Of Thee sung by Josh Groban and Heather Headley.

True Grit(s)

My Thanksgiving dinner came off a shrimp boat. It probably wasn't this shrimp boat, but give me my romantic delusions, OK?

As the day faded into blues and pinks, the boats came back to the canal at Shem Creek in Mount Pleasant from their daily excursions into the Charleston Harbor. South Carolina has two shrimp seasons. The first runs from May through August, when smaller, brown shrimp are harvested. The white shrimp season begins in September and lasts through December.

Did the shrimp from these boats actually end up in the display case at Mount Pleasant Seafood, just two doors down from our motel?

Maybe not, but I would like to think that our Thanksgiving dinner was fresh off the boat.

It took Randy an hour to peel and devein the 2.5 pounds of shrimp we brought carefully packed in a Styrofoam cooler and transported to Brent's Columbia apartment an hour and a half away.

Our shrimp and cheesy grits Thanksgiving dinner was not our normal holiday fare. But even though we were miles away from home, there was a glimpse of extended family in the meal. I'd forgotten that Brent has some of the plates that were in my Grandma and Grandpa Neelly's kitchen cupboards.

But there they were - ready to hold a different kind of feast than was served up on my Grandma's table. But it was still a tie to family and memories miles away.

We didn't even miss the turkey. (I may have missed the dressing ... but just a little.)

Baked Shrimp Scampi
(2008, Barefoot Contessa's Back to the Basics)
www.foodnetwork.com

2 lbs. shrimp in the shell (12-15 per pound)
3 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. dry white wine
Salt and freshly ground pepper
3/4 cup butter, at room temperature
4 tsp. minced garlic
1/4 cup minced shallots (I used green onion)
3 tbsp. minced fresh parsley leaves
1 tsp. minced fresh rosemary leaves
1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1 tsp. grated lemon zest
2 tbsp. freshly-squeezed lemon juice
1 extra-large egg yolk
2/3 cup panko (Japanese dried bread flakes)
Lemon wedges for serving

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Peel and devein the shrimp, leaving the tails on. (Randy didn't do that part. He just took the tail off at the same time.) Place shrimp in mixing bowl and toss gently with olive oil, wine, 2 teaspoons salt and 1 teaspoon pepper. Allow to sit at room temperature while you make the butter and garlic mixture.

In a small bowl, mash the softened butter with the garlic, shallots, parsley, rosemary, red pepper flakes, lemon zest, lemon juice, egg yolk, panko, 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper until combined.

Starting from the outer edge of a 14-inch oval gratin dish, arrange the shrimp in a single layer, cut side down with the tails curling up and towards the center of the dish. ** Pour the remaining marinade over the shrimp. Spread the butter mixture evenly over the shrimp. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes until hot and bubbly. If you like the top browned, place under a broiler for 1 minute. Serve with lemon wedges.

** If you think that Brent has an oval gratin dish in his kitchen, think again. I don't even have that kind of a dish. So we just put the shrimp in a 9- by 13-pan and followed the recipe from there.

Cheesy Grits

1/2 lb. bacon, fried and crumbled
1 bunch spring onions, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
8-10 mushrooms, sliced (We didn't use these)
1/2 cup grated white Cheddar cheese
Nutmeg (Brent didn't have any in his cabinet: Imagine that!)
Salt & pepper
8 oz. stoneground grits
16 oz. heavy cream
16 oz. water
4 oz. butter

Fry bacon. Remove and crumble. Pour off some of the bacon grease and saute onions and garlic in remaining drippings. Add sliced mushrooms (if desired). Add crumbled bacon and keep warm.

Cook grits. Bring water, cream and butter to a boil and swirl in the grits. Reduce to a simmer and stir intermittently to keep grits from sticking. Cook for 30 minutes. Add the bacon mixture. Add cheese and a touch of nutmeg, if desired. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve warm.

I did this dish combining two different recipes, one for creamy grits from the Dixie Supply Cafe & Bakery in Charleston and the other from Mt. Pleasant Seafood.