Cook once, eat fifteen times

Yesterday I finally did something I've wanted to do for two years - I made and processed Beef Stew.  Fifteen pints, to be exact. That's fifteen evenings the daily dilemma of what to fix myself for supper is solved. 

Cooking for one is a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. It's a lot of aggravation to prepare an entire meal when I know I'll be eating the same thing, or elements of the same things, for the next three days. I've already discovered that's a recipe for wasting food. 

When I lived alone over thirty years ago, my mother and grandmother pretty much kept me fed. Back before the cellphone days, I'd come home from work and find notes in my mailbox instructing me to go to one of their houses and what was on the menu. With my grandmother next door and my mother only a mile away, it was good to have options. Ah, the good old days! 

This Beef Stew recipe is from the Ball Book, as are many of the foods I home process. When I'm ready to enjoy a jar, I'll make a bit of thickening from flour when I heat it up. Adding flour to a jar before canning is a no-no due to concerns about reaching proper heat levels inside the jar during processing. We do want to be safe. 

In the overall scheme of things, this is a small accomplishment but I feel good about it. Every little thing is a step toward what will be my normal life without Ron. Typing that sentence felt odd, but it's a truthful sentiment. Who knew Beef Stew could make a life feel like it was moving forward again? 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, Beef Stew, home canning, country lifestyle, rural living, Ball Book of Canning, life after death, a writer's life, KC Kendricks, m/m romance, grandmothers

My Grandmother's lamp

Before I was born, my mother gifted my grandmother with a lamp. My grandmother loved it! It was one of her treasures and it sat in a place of honor in her living room. I don't remember a time when it wasn't there - until it wasn't. It vanished one day when the daughters of my closest first cousin were small, back in the 80s.  My mother and I were afraid to ask, and my grandmother never divulged what happened. 

Mom and I feared the worst. Mom was angry. I was sad. Had the girls managed to break it? The answer turned out to be that they had not. 

My grandmother passed in 1997, and Mom had the task of helping my grandfather take some necessary steps at his house. The lamp was discovered, safe and sound, in a spare bedroom. My mother immediately brought it to me. Mom had purchased the lamp, and to her way of thinking, it now should be returned to her, and she wanted me to have it. 

My grandmother's lamp is one of the many treasures of hers that I've kept over the years. The lamp has been a fixture in my writing cave (office) since I made the dedicated space. Yesterday, I got a set of new lamps and switched them out in preparation for passing my grandmother's lamp to her eldest great-granddaughter, one of the very girls my mother had been convinced had broken it. 

My lovely second cousin will in a few weeks celebrate her fortieth birthday, and it seemed the appropriate time to pass the lamp to her. She does remember it from her childhood and so I'm happy she has the memory of it. She knows it's on the way to her and I know she will keep it safe, hopefully to pass it along to her eldest daughter. 

Will I miss having it? Will I miss that connection to my grandmother every time I step into my office? Yes, I will. Had I known how much I may have held off another year or five. No matter. It's a done deal and I've done exactly what my grandmother would have wanted. I've passed on a treasure to the next generation so that they can enjoy it. 

Thanks, Mam. I took care of it for you. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, family, cousins, lamp, heirloom, pass it on, rural lifestyle, country living, a writer's life, grandmothers, do the right thing