Garden Veggies

Garden Veggies
Made into tile for my stove backsplash

Portland Rose Garden

Portland Rose Garden
Mike and my 2 youngest sons Ian and Leif

Grandson Michael's Birthday 2014 throwing water balloons

Grandson Michael's Birthday 2014 throwing water balloons
With son Beau, Grandson Luke and his mom Jennifer

Maren

Maren
I cut this out of a wedding line. I must take more pictures of her.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

THE REUNION

This is the family of Lyman Duane Hamblin and Fanny Adeline Noble.  My grandmother Iris is standing just behind the baby on the right of Fanny.

This is an early reunion.  The man with the black bushy hair on the top left with a dot above him is my grandfather Cliff Palmer.  The woman with the baby on his right is my grandmother Iris.  The baby is my mother.  The top middle couple are Lyman and Fanny. This is about 1926.

This is the Hamblin group at Rock Creek in 1958.  I am sitting on the ground in a white shirt in the front right.  The three boys to my left are my brothers Jack, Cliff and Andy.  Tia Bennett is sitting in front of me.


This is  my Grandma Iris and Clifford Palmer family who were at the Rock Creek reunion in 1958.  The tall man is my Grandpa with my mom and dad on his right, my grandma Iris on his left. My mother's sister Bobbie and her husband Jack Graves are on the left of my Grandmother.  The Children from left to right:  Edward Graves (baby), me with the dog, Iris and Barney Graves, Cliff, Andy and Jack Marvell, my brothers. Click on the picture for a larger view.
These are the girls that I told the joke to, Tia Bennett and Iris Grave and me in the middle.


THE REUNION
I can close my eyes and see the paradise that was Rock Creek in the high Uinta Mts. Of Utah. There was a bumpy dirt road for the last miles before arriving at my Uncle Willie's lodge. I didn’t mind the jostling we children got from the back of the truck at this point, because the tall pines and quaking aspen arched the road and the cool mountain air was fragrant with forest smells. I knew soon we would jump from the truck and begin looking for cousins and hugging aunts and uncles. This was always a happy time and place. This was vacation for our family, the Hamblin Family Reunion. We didn’t go to Disney Land, Yellowstone or to see the sights in Salt Lake, we camped and fished and Rock Creek was my favorite place. For many years of my childhood the Reunion was held in this glorious spot.

My Grandmother was the daughter of Fanny Adeline Noble and Lyman Duane Hamblin. This reunion was a gathering of their posterity. It was held every July the week after the 4th. It was always well attended by the 11 children of Fanny and Duane and the 56 first cousins who had a great fondness for each other. It didn’t matter that their lives had taken various turns with bumps and jags—they had history together. My mother said that when the 8 sisters were young mothers, all who could would often gather during the summer at one of their homes with their rag tag group of children and stay for days on end. It was told that they chatted and laughed far into the night after the kids were asleep and they finally had some peace.

The Hamblin children would break off into little groups for camping at the reunion. My Grandma Iris was always near her sisters Mollie and Erma who were close to her age growing up, so our families were better acquainted. The children of these aunts had more boys than girls. My mother’s sister Bobbie had a daughter Iris, who was 3 years younger and Aunt Mollies daughter Jessie had a daughter Tia who was 4 years younger and we stuck together. We wandered the woods collecting treasures and chatting nonsense as little girls do.

I am going to confess some embarrassments that I have never forgotten. I told the little girls a naughty joke. This was it: A little girl needed to go to the bathroom so she went to her teacher to get permission. The teacher said, “first recite the ABC’s and then you can go.” ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOQRSTUVWXYZ , “Where is the P?” asked the teacher. “Running down my legs.” Said the little girl. After returning to camp one of my little cousins tried to tell the joke to the adults but the only thing that came out with clarity was the P running down the legs. I will never forget the humiliation of getting caught doing something questionable with these people that meant so much to me. I actually don’t remember their reaction. I think it was brushed off but I never really got over my feelings of being tainted in their eyes.

Rock Creek funneled into an area that created a large pool called “The Stillwaters.” We took our swimsuits to swim in it. This had to be the coldest water on earth and I can’t believe I actually got in. The water would paralyze every inch of your skin and after a few minutes you actually started to feel warm, but you couldn’t breath very well. Once the top of my swimming suit fell off and I didn’t even feel it. I jumped out of the water exposing myself to all the boys there. Maybe it helped that I was as flat chested as they were.

Each year one of the Hamblin children would be responsible for hosting the reunion. They would organize the activities and choose the location. It wasn’t always at Rock Creek but this was the preferred site for many years. We all arrived on Thursday afternoon and would leave on Sunday evening. The days were filled with activities for the children, family meetings, potluck dinners, auctions, talent shows and church. There is a lovely spirit when you meet with your cousins sitting on a rock in the woods praying and talking about Jesus. The sacrament was served and a testimony meeting was always part of the service. I believe God meant the witness of your blood kin to be more potent. At least it felt like that to me. There were a good many of the attendees who were not active in church at the time but our gospel heritage tied us together and active or not a powerful thread pulled us into the spirit of belonging to a family that believed that we are bound together forever. I think this belief activated many members of the Hamblin family over the years, including my mother. It is the amazing power of the hearts of the children turning to the fathers and the fathers turning to the children. The first convert in this family was Jacob Hamblin, who knew the prophet Joseph Smith. His spirit was always there in our gatherings as we told his stories.

My favorite part of the event was in the evenings, sitting around a large bon fire, singing the Hamblin songs. The families were huddled together in little groups with blankets and coats on those crisp mountain evenings. We ate hot dogs and roasted marshmallows then settled into the music. I could see the light of the fire reflecting joy in the faces of these good people as they sang the songs handed down over the years from Fanny and Lyman. Music was always important to this family. A history written by their daughter Lois told the following: “Each morning before going in to breakfast we gathered around the cheerful fireplace and sang a hymn. Then we would kneel in family prayer...Sometimes if the hymn we sang inspired us we would sing another one.” (Hamblin Red Book p. 72)

My mother had a strong soprano voice that could be heard a mile away if she was looking for you or sweet enough to melt your heart when she was singing. I loved the sound of her voice echoing in the trees on a still night when camping. She would bring her guitar to the campfire and sing an old Civil war song called “Two Little Boys,” and we would cry. It always made me cry. I know every word to this day. I can hear the harmony of “Love at Home,” as the group sang with the conviction of its importance. I can hear my grandmother’s deep alto voice singing “Whispering Hope,” and I was enchanted by the words.

Soft as the voice of an angel
Beathing a lesson unheard
Hope with its gentle persuasion
Whispers a comforting word

Wait ‘til the darkness is over
Wait ‘til the tempest is done
Hope for the sunshine tomorrow
After the shower is done.

Whispering hope, oh, how welcome thy voice
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice
‘En in the dusk of the twilight
Dim be the regions afar
Will not the deepening darkness
Brighten the glimmering star

Then when the night is upon us
Why should the heart sink away
When the dark midnight is over
Watch for the breaking of day.

They sang old cowboy songs like “Baggage Couch Ahead,” and “My Juanita”—songs I had never heard anywhere before but were poignant and sad. I belonged to these good people, simple and humble but bonded together with love. It made me realize that my family was bigger than the craziness and dysfunction in my home. This reunion would forever shape who I am and who I want to be.

As long as my mother was alive I continued to attend. It was always so important to her. As the group increased and the old cousins died off the reunion broke into smaller family groups but I am glad my children had a taste of these experiences.

Here are the words to "Two Little Boys"  in case you want to have a nice cry...but it's not quite the same without my mother singing it in the forest. 

TWO LITTLE BOYS

Two little boys had two little toys
Each had a wooden horse
Gaily they played each summer’s day
Warriors both were they

When one little chap he had a mishap
Broke off his horse’s head
Wept for his toy then cried for joy
As his young comrade said
Did you think I would leave you crying
When there’s room on my horse for two
Climb up here Jack and don’t be crying
We can go just as fast with two

When we grow up we’ll be soldiers
And our horses will not be toys
Ad It  may be that we will remember
When we were two little boys.

Long years had passed and the war came at last
Bravely they marched away
Cannons roared loud, mid the mad crowd
Wounded and dying Jack lay

When loud came a cry and a horse rushed by
Out of the ranks so blue
Galloped away to where Jack lay
And came a voice came loud and true

Did you think I would leave you dying
When there’s room on my horse for two
Climb up here Jack, we’ll be flying
We can go just as fast with two

Say Jack you're all a-tremble
Or it may be the battle’s noise
Or it may be that you can remember
When we were two little boys

Friday, May 21, 2010

ROSEMARY TOMATO BREAD DIP

I was staying in St. George.  I had a bag of Roma Tomatoes and a rosemary bush outside and wanted to make a bread dip for some dinner guests, so I concocted this.  I loved the flavor combination and have done it several times since.  I have even used it on sliced roast beef and grilled chicken and it was lovely.  It is also good as a shrimp dip.  (Yesterday I tossed it with a little chicken, pasta and parm cheese...awesome!)

5-7 Roma tomatoes boiled to remove skins (Use more than 5 if small)

Grate 2 large cloves of garlic and about half an onion (¼ C. coarsely grated sweet onion is good)

Put ½ C. olive oil in a saucepan with the garlic and onion. Fry until it begins to brown stirring constantly. Chop the tomatoes into quite small pieces add to the garlic mixture with ½ tsp. salt, ¼ tsp. black pepper and 1 T. finely chopped fresh rosemary. (I have never tried dry but you would use less and might want to crush it up a bit) Add a little crushed red pepper if you like heat. Cook and stir until it is a nice thick consistency, about 10 minutes. Serve in small dipping bowls with dinner or as an appetizer in a basket with crusty French bread. It can also be served as a sauce with your choice of meat or as a dip for shrimp. I love this stuff. I can eat it out of the bowl with a spoon and be very happy!

Thursday, May 13, 2010

BOOK REVIEW - PATHS OF GLORY by Jeffery Archer





This is not a book I would normally read but someone in my book club wanted to review it and I was lent a copy so I decided to give it a go. I must say it surprised me. I liked it a great deal. I have never read Jeffery Archer before. His writing is not flowery but crisp, fast paced and human. I wasn’t familiar with the story of George Mallroy, who made the first attempts to climb Everest. Archer painted a picture of Mallroy as a man that was driven, honorable, loving, a climbers climber from the time he was a small child and self confident, perhaps to a fault. But the real story and perhaps the one that kept me in was his relationship to his wife. He wrote her every day when they were apart, even from a tent at the 40 below heights of Everest. They had three children together and he seemed to thrive on his family life. He was a bit scattered, usually late and disorganized. He ended up teaching school when he couldn’t get into a PHD program at Cambridge. His wife Ruth came from a wealthy family. Her father wanted to keep them in a life style in which she was accustomed. They weren’t socialites but appeared to be dedicated to home and family.

George climbed everything, including the Eiffel Tower (he spent time in a French jail for this) and the Basilica in the Pizza San Marco in Venice. (to impress Ruth before they were a couple) He narrowly escaped from the Italian Police. When you have climbed everything there is nothing left but Everest, especially when no one has ever done it before. After the first failed attempt when he had a sense of how foolhardy it was, how unpredictable the weather was, how difficult the breathing was at that altitude, how devastating it was to lose men in avalanches, how could he go back when he knew the dangers? It seemed selfish to me for him to jeopardize his life at the expense of his children and a woman who he professed so great a love. I chalk it up to self-confidence gone awry, especially since he was in uncharted territory. He thought he was subject to different rules because of his great strength and abilities. I believe he also got caught up in the push from others who wanted him to succeed and thought he could. I recommend it even to skeptics of Everest stories.

RUTH AND GEORGE MALLROY

Friday, May 7, 2010

RASPBERRY BREAD PUDDING

Make this for Mother's Day for yourself, I am.

My brother has a premier catering business in Provo, Marvellous Catering.  Recently he opened a lunch restaurant next to his state of the art catering kitchen called Molly's (Named for our mother)  It is in its first month of business and is worth your time if you are wanting somewhere to eat while in Provo.  It is only open from 11:00-2:00 so you need to be prepared--753 W. Columbia Lane.   We ate there last week.  I recommend the Chicken with the White Wine Sauce.  It is delicious.  For dessert, I would have the Raspberry Bread Pudding.  Oh my gosh, this is out of this world good.  I didn't get the recipe but I did get a couple of tips--Texas toast for the bread was one.  I came home and googled Texas Toast bread pudding and came up with something that will rival his...OK maybe it is the same one.  He probably found it on the internet.  So here is my recipe and be sure to eat at Molly's when you are in Provo. 

RASPBERRY BREAD PUDDING

This makes a 9x9 pan or a 7x11. Double for a thick 9x13 or 10x12 pan. (one sauce recipe is enough for a double recipe)

½ loaf of cubed Texas Toast (9 slices)  or a half loaf of any bread.   Pace the cubed bread in your greased baking dish and toss with 2 1/2  C. fresh or frozen raspberries.

Beat together: 1 C. cream, 1 ½ C. milk, 10 T. sugar & 3 large eggs. Pour over the bread cubes and press down to submerge all the bread as best you can. Melt 2 T. butter and drizzle over the top to cover all the bread. Smooth around with a spoon and sprinkle with 3 T. sugar (coarse raw sugar is nice but any will work) (Sometimes I melt 2 T. of butter and mix it with 1/3 C. sugar and 3/4 C. toasted sliced almonds and top before baking to make extra special.)

Bake 300 degrees for 1 hour. (This is the next secret)


VANILLA CUSTARD SAUCE

Place these ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a slow boil:

1 1/4 C. Cream
1 C. Milk
1 tsp. vanilla
6 T. sugar
A pinch of salt

(If you like rum or brandy sauce add 1-2 T. here )

Mix 3 egg yolks and 1 T. cornstarch together well. Put about ¼ C. of your hot cream into the yolks and mix a bit then pour back into the pot and bring back to a boil until thick and remove from heat. Don’t boil very long.


Butter and sugar on the top makes a nice crisp top (this is my addition)

This sauce is lovely and rich.  Not Jack's but good.

The baked dish. It is making me drool but I am a bread puding junkie.