Yes, there are hundreds of ways to make potato salad. One of my favorites, though, is the way my mother-in-law makes it. She shared her recipe.
16 ounces sour cream
6 ounces mayonnaise
3 tablespoons dill pickle brine
1/2 apple, chopped
2 dill pickles, chopped
1/2 leek, sliced
7 potatoes, cooked and diced
Mix all together. Let set. Serve with dinner from the grill.
I read Pirate Girl by Cornelia Funke (illustrated by Kerstin Meyer) in February with the kids. They loved it. I thought it was cute, too.
I read When Your Grandparent Dies: A Child’s Guide to Good Grief (Elf-Help Books for Kids) by Victoria Ryan with my children when their grandmother died earlier this year. It uses clear, concise and kind words for children who just lost a grandparent. (It doesn’t hurt parents to read this, either.)
We went to a Chinese restaurant with friends we visited over spring break. The kids loved the food, and they really looked forward to getting fortune cookies. They had lots of questions about where the fortunes come from, who writes them, how do they think of them and how do they know who will get them. We conjured up a table with a bunch of wise, old folks sitting around it and writing fortunes for others they’ll never meet. (Yeah, we’re a bunch of romantics.)
They wondered if the fortunes in cookies were true and meaningful. I said, well, they can be, and I told them about the fortune I’ve carried for almost 10 years.
I’d just had lunch with my youngest brother. I was up visiting from Florida, just a couple of months after moving back to the States from Norway, hoping his second daughter would be born before I returned home. He looked at my fortune and said, of course, we know what that’s about, right? His baby. I said, aw, hell no. We know that one’s coming. This one’s about my baby.
A year later, almost to the day, my son was born. My dear, sweet boy … the child I wanted for so long.
I tend to crank up the superstition when things seem hopeless. So, yeah. That last one up there about hard work paying off? I’m hoping that has significant meaning soon. I think I’ll hold on to that one. We’ll see what happens.
Thanks for my favorite character, song and lyrics: The Grinch Song.
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Last year’s birthday wishes.
I have the sweetest Valentines in the world.
This was the last poinsettia I’ll ever get from my mother on my birthday. She and my father had been doing it since I was born. Then, after Dad died, it was Mom.
See, I was born in December. Ten days later, they had me in church for baptism. They had poinsettias on the altar that Sunday. And they sang something about roses … oh, I don’t know. She’s told me the story a dozen times, and she told my children the whole story again last birthday. I didn’t ask questions. Nor did I write any of it down. I just know that my birthday and poinsettias have always gone together.
Now? Not so much.
Mom died this morning at hospice. She’d been under hospice care (at home until a couple of weeks ago) since May. She’d been dealing with health problems and cancer for a few years. The picture was taken at her 70th birthday party at our house in October 2009.
The first blizzard of 2011 is howling and prowling outside my home right now. My husband is on the interstate somewhere, and I’m hoping he’ll make it home tonight. How many blizzards did we have last year … 10? 12? I lost count. While I’ve driven in low-visibility conditions before, wow. I can’t say it’s ever been as bad as it was today.
This? Is the school parking lot. They started pulling schoolchildren off the school buses and kept them at school because it wasn’t safe to send the buses out … on the streets. It was bad.
This was our visibility on the way home. I drove 20 miles per hour.
The kids helped watch for the house, which we never saw.
We could barely see the mailbox.
But, hey. There’s the sun. Whee.
