The joy filled merriment continues as we relish every moment of time spent with my lovely angel Mum ( Mom, Mother, Mummy). Those of you who have joined me on facebook have seen this sweet photo of Izzy and my Mother ( he loves her too)
Having her here to visit has just been wonderful. We will be celebrating Mothers Day in person this year and I am so excited! I hope you all Have a beautiful Mothers Day too.
Today I am sharing my cherished space here at Katherines Corner with the two lovely ladies from BeBetsy.com ,Sharon and Denise.
I am tickled pink, purple and just plain rainbow colored to have them share with you today. Have a beautiful weekend sweet souls and don’t forget to get your entries in for the Time For Tea Giveaway. You can still link up to yesterday’s blog hop too.
She taught us to stand up straight, sew our own clothes, home-can food, make great fudge, bake Christmas fruit cake and much more.
Her Grandparents emigrated from Denmark to Elsinore, a tiny little town in Southern Utah. Our Grandmother, Ruby Tenora, was born there and so was our Mother.
One thing we will always remember is that whenever the name Elsinore was mentioned in any conversation it was always followed by everyone’s singsong in unison “I snore, you snore, we all snore in Elsinore!” That memory brings a smile to our faces every time!
Please share your thoughts, stories and pictures of your moms, we would love that! Miss you Barbara…..
DIY | Preserve Your Family Recipes
It’s funny how things that once seemed ordinary and taken for granted become so dear to the heart as we move along in our life’s journey.
I can picture my mother with her apron on hard at work in the kitchen of our home that my parents built brick by brick. The kitchen walls were lined with cedar wainscot. Closing my eyes I am transported back and watching my father take pleasure in our mother’s cooking. Oh what meals she could whip up! Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, freshly baked rolls slathered in butter and fresh plum jam made from the bounty of our grandmother’s tree. It remains so vivid in my memory.
In winter the kitchen was the place to be with the warmth from the oven and wonderful smells that made your stomach churn in anticipation! I cherish those memories and right this minute I swear I can smell the chocolate, sugar and butter of the Saturday night fudge as it bubbled in that old, heavy saucepan.
Food memories are powerful and an important part of our family history. What a gift it would be to our children, and for generations to come, if through our recipes our family history would come to life!
Shortly after our mother died my sister Sharon and her family put together a collection of our family recipes in a beautifully handcrafted scrapbook of my sister’s own design. Included were pictures of our mother’s handwritten recipes cards. This precious memory book reminds me of how our mother’s home-cooked meals brought us together around our kitchen table. Thinking of that I smile and cry all at once.
You can create your own special recipe memory book! Sharon took pictures of Mom’s recipe cards as well as our favorite shots from her old cookbooks. These were mounted on papers found at a stationery store and bound together in a photo album. Of special note is that the drawings on the Pineapple Cake page are Sharon’s – she is an amazing graphic artist! See more of her great designs at her Etsy shop.
The page shown has the Christmas Raisin Fruit Cake which Mom made with great care and love each year. I remember the raisins simmering in water to plump them up and the cherries sliced just waiting to be mixed into the spicy, sugary cake. It was an event to be witnessed!
Our family heritage recipes mean everything to us and we will pass them along to our own children and they will pass them to their children. And in this way our Mother’s memory will live on for many years to come.
Please share your own precious memories.
“A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. “ — Tenneva Jordan