Linda's Texas Caramel Corn

My mom (Linda) has made this every Christmas since 1976 when a friend of hers in Dallas shared the recipe.  This is a holiday staple in our family - enjoy!

Combine:
2 cups of brown sugar
2 sticks of real butter
1/2 cup of white Karo syrup
1/4 tsp. of cream of tartar

Boil for 5 minutes
Remove from heat and add
1 1/4 tsp. of baking soda
Beat down the foam and pour over
6 quarts of plain popcorn (or enough to fill a turkey roasting pan)
     (Linda recommends air popped Jolly Time Yellow Popcorn)*
Bake for 1 hour at 200 degrees, stirring every 15 minutes

*Linda suggests shaking the large container of popcorn for a few seconds so the "old maids" go to the bottom and then scooping it out into the roasting pan a cup-full at a time to avoid having un-popped  kernels in your caramel corn.  Even if it tastes spectacular, you'll be in the doghouse if someone chips their tooth!

Old Pumpkin = New Christmas Decor

Don't throw your pumpkins away after Halloween or Thanksgiving.  Dress them up and give them a second life with some spray paint and silk flowers.

I've kept it simple with white spray paint and a poinsettia and pine sprig, but you can use gold  or silver or even glittered spray paint.

These pumpkins have been a part of my outdoor decor from September to December this year.

Talk about stretching your dollar.

Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown...

Surrounded by hustle and bustle in my current suburban location, I find myself surrounded by folks who seem determined to have a Charlie Brown Christmas.  I hear it in line to check out at the grocery store, ladies talking in the food court at the mall and even on television.  I often wonder if they know what they're saying sounds like a quote from Charlie Brown.

"I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel." said Charlie Brown.  "I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed."

Year after year, I hear other mothers, co-workers and passers-by hum-drumming about how Christmas just doesn't seem right "this year".  I hear them talk about how they've done all that they should from buying all the right gifts to decorating up a storm... and yet they are still shoveling all this "Christmas spirit" into a void that can never be filled by such superficial things. 

I discovered long ago that Christmas should be about spending time with loved ones, making memories and honoring the Lord God for sending Jesus Christ, His only son, as a baby, born in a humble barn.

Speaking of humble, did I mention that, that this is our new theme at Christmas time?  Some people have a snow man theme, some angels and some Santa, etc.  This may shock some people, but my five and six-year-olds do not even mention Santa.  He does not bring them presents, nor do they write him letters requesting them.  We acknowledge him and agree that the whole idea of Santa is neat, but rather than threatening that he won't bring them presents if they are not good, we opt for something a little less conventional.  We stop as a family and give money to the homeless people along the road.  (Gasp! We really do.)  We donate toys to the Angel Tree Project.  We talk about giving gifts as a celebration of the ultimate gift that God gave to us - Jesus.

The next time you hear yourself sounding like Charlie Brown under holiday duress, broaden your  focus and center on the true meaning of Christmas - and everything else will fall into place.

Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!

Christmas On The Farm

When your living is dependent on the cattle market or the weather, it seems that it is often feast or famine.  Being one of six children of a farmer/rancher, I can tell you that results of these less than dependable factors can be glaringly obvious at Christmas time.

My parents, though, were smart and resourceful and always made the most of what we had at the time.  I never really knew which year was feast and was which was famine.  Instead of dragging us along to shop among the throngs of frantic holiday-goers or fretting about excessive decorating, my parents chose to spend more time over more money and gave us holiday memories that still echo in my heart 20+ years later.

Each Christmas, we would load up and make the two hour trip to the Christmas tree farm where we would drink hot chocolate around a large outdoor fire and ride in a horse drawn buggy among the rows of fragrant green trees.  They would let us choose the perfect tree and then we cut it down ourselves and drug it to the cart path where it was picked up and loaded on our car.

Once situated in our living room, the smell of pine permeated the entire house - an amazing scent that meant the Christmas season had begun.  After stringing it with twinkling white lights and covering it with years worth of accumulated ornaments, we would often drink eggnog and watch Christmas movies.

Thinking back, I couldn't tell you what gifts I received or what kind of holiday goodies were baked or even how the house was decorated, but I can vividly remember cutting down our own Christmas tree and the warmth and togetherness that it inspired each year.

Take the opportunity this holiday season to purchase quality memories with your time, just as you purchase quality gifts with your money.  Many years down the road, your family will remember the things you did together, even when the memories of the gifts purchased and money spent have been long faded.

Prairie Tempest

I watch as the clouds billow and rumble overhead. The oppression of the sun's ominous fury has been squelched by these merciful pewter masses.  Leaves scorched by drought and sun swirl slowly to the ground as a soft breeze begins to ripple over the prairie grass and through the Honey Locust trees.

The farm is eerily quiet - not a bellowing cow or a chirping cricket - just the sound of the wind.  The sweet smell of impending rain is muddled by the acrid stench and sage brush and ripe vines full of gourds.  Though half devoured by this summer's plague of ravenous grasshoppers, they still manage to perfume the air with their strange familiarity.

As the windmill at the old Thomas place creaks and groans back to life in the wind, I wonder what early settlers on this prairie thought when these thunderheads rolled across the plains.  Today, this late afternoon prairie tempest has stirred the drought stricken prairie to life. Against the slate colored sky, the golden grasses of the dry fields almost seem green.  The barn cats have began to mingle in the yard and the pasture cows are now grazing up against the fence nearest the house.  They know what is coming.

I look at the row of mangled trees just across the dirt road from our farm house and consider, with reverent respect, the potential fury that I know exists in the Oklahoma sky.  The booming clouds draw nearer and speak louder and I am reminded of the security of our storm cellar.  As the plains interact with the wind and the rumbling sky, it paints a picture of a much younger prairie.  From my seat on the porch, all I can see is sage brush and love grass whipping and nodding in the breeze.  I see a trail that the cattle have tromped that slinks and wanders into a large thicket.

A wall of clay colored dust  rises from the thirsty road and pings and scuttles as it hits our prairie home and metal outbuildings with stinging force and at this moment, I know what my great grandfather felt as he looked out on this very same rugged piece of land almost 100 years ago.  I connect with this land in the same way you connect with an old friend.  No matter how long you are away, when you finally meet again, it feels like you never left.  I am comforted and reassured that just as the storms and and tempests of life may bring destruction and desolation, in this moment, this prairie tempest reminds me of where I came from and who I really am.