Tag: sick

Pumpkins

Pumpkin Memories

October 29, 2022

Pumpkins


We love pumpkins.  You cut off the bottom, scoop out everything inside and scrape all the yummy meat out (save it for roasted seeds and pumpkin pie!), decorate it with a silly face, and put a candle inside – now it’s an amazing nightlight that smells oh-so-good!

The first pumpkin I opened up with Grandma Jeanette; she was teaching me how to make her pumpkin pie.  My Daddy had told us long ago that the reason for the perfect pale color in most commercial pumpkin pies was due to the company using a hard squash instead of pumpkin.  Pumpkin cooks darker than winter squash.  Grandma Jeanette used everything.  I loved learning things from her because I can’t stand waste.  She came from the generation and grew up using everything!  Nothing was ever thrown away.  I loved that.  

Anyway, back to the pumpkin.  She opened it from the top with a big knife.  I was expecting puree like when you open a “pumpkin pack” tin can.  Nope.  Stringy spongy looking guts with spots of seeds reminded me of thick orange spiderwebs.  Grandma Jeanette took all that stuff and scraped with her big metal spoon until the wall was very thin.  Stringy stuff and tiny shavings that looked like slivers went into a big pot with a little bacon grease in the bottom.  She had a really cool method of basically pulling on the strings and all the seeds practically fell onto a pan on the counter.  She picked a few out.  (I have never been able to duplicate that easy seed removal and wondered later if she picked a specific type of pumpkin!) Seeds got tossed around in an oil and spice mixture and roasted in the oven.  The big chunks of hard pumpkin wall (not the actual skin, just the “wall” scrapings from inside) got chopped into smaller hunks and tossed in the pot with the strings and shavings.  Water added to the pot.  It was covered and cooked in a pressure cooker for however long we were sitting and chatting on the couch while the seeds roasted.  

When the lid came off, the strings and hunks had blended into a watery orange soup.  Grandma churned that around with her blender (it got handed down to me years later and had been manufactured in the 40s!) until it was smooth and now it looked like a darker cousin of the canned pumpkin I was so used to seeing.  

Now that was pumpkin pack!  

When Grandma Jeanette did it with me that year, she made all of it into pies for Thanksgiving and Christmas as family and friends always gathered at her house.  She froze the ones to save for Christmas.  I loved the heavenly smell!  She taught me some tricks about the pastry dough.  She sometimes short-cutted by buying premade dough, which she would prick with a fork, paint with butter and sprinkle with a bit of sugar on the edges to give it a “homemade” taste.  For my scratch recipe, she showed me how to layer and roll so it would be flakey.  Cold butter shaved into the mix.  Don’t overmix.  Don’t over roll.  NEVER freeze your scratch pastry.  Always bake the whole pie and then freeze – but it’s always best fresh.  It’s super fast and easy to make anyway, so I LOVE making pastry dough from scratch.

This is why I am transported into happy memories when I see a pumpkin.  I remember bumping around the kitchen with little Christina, Becky, and assorted cousins in and out of the house as we laughed and I listened to Grandma Jeanette’s stories.  

When I cut a pumpkin, I make pumpkin pack, but I don’t bake 12 to 16 pies the same day.  I use the canning pot and tools (all hand-me-downs from Grandma Jeannette, we still reuse some of her jars as well) to can the pumpkin pack for later pies.  1 pint makes one deep-dish pumpkin pie.  1 quart makes 2 deep dishes or 3 flat pies.  I love the whole process!  My plan each holiday season always includes a pumpkin and pumpkin pack and from-scratch pastry to make pumpkin pies.  I tell the stories of Grandma Jeanette and Christina, Becky, and the cousins bringing critters (lizards, toads, etc) into the kitchen and being told how cool they were before being shooed “back where they belong” to “take them home to their families,” yes, that’s why I say that about insects and critters my children capture.  I tell stories of our family because it feels so natural to do that while I’m canning.  Grandma Jeanette taught me to can.  She gave me our tiny library of books and pamphlets about canning, storing Florida produce, and food safety (old publications that came from St Johns County, University of Florida, and Ball, Inc with dates ranging from 1928 to 1965).  

Louis carves the pumpkin shell with the girls.  They love it!  If you open from the bottom, you can replace the candle easier and you can sprinkle cinnamon on the top (while the pumpkin is upside down and let it sit to sink in) and it will stick and make the house smell so good!

Pumpkins make me think of family.  Pumpkins make me smile because of the memories I have and the memories I hope I create for my family.  What food makes you think of happy memories?

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

My Hero, My Hope

My way of processing emotion – to write. I love you Daddy. Merry Christmas at Home.

December 10, 2018

My Hero, My Hope

Be not downcast, my soul…

My Daddy’s favorite time of year is Christmas.  He loves the songs, the movies (queue “White Christmas,” “Holiday Inn,” “Miracle on 34th Street,” “Bells of St Mary’s,” my favorite, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” the 1985 Disney Channel Christmas, “Mickey’s Christmas Carol,” etc. on repeat), the giving (he loves to make people yelp with happiness!), the story, and the general mood.

My Daddy has had declining health for quite a few years.  Some days were better than others.  He always tried to pretend like nothing was wrong.

My Daddy went to heaven today.

He always said he prayed that when God wanted him, He would let him just “go to sleep” in his own bed and not wake up.  We just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.  Not near Christmas.  Truthfully, not anytime.

No one expects to lose someone they love.  Never.  No matter how sick they are or how many times they’ve been close or how many doctors have said “he can go at any time.”

No one ever expects to not be able to hear their voice again… No more long discussions about book ideas, parenting, the vastness of God’s amazing universe, the connections from one smile to a healed heart to God’s blessing.

We are human.  We never expect separation from those we love.

God didn’t intend that either.  In the beginning, there was no death.  No separation.  We were to live forever.  In today’s fallen world, we do have death – “separation.”

Those with God’s light within them know this is only a temporary separation, and that gives us tremendous hope.  We know, know, know that we will be reunited once again in heaven.  My hero and my hope as a child was in my Daddy; as an adult, I learned that God is both of our heroes and both our hopes.

And that led my mind to an image that made me cry with joy.

My Daddy lost his mother when he was 12 and his father when he was nearly twenty.  It had been nearly 50 years since he’d seen his dad and almost 60 since he’d seen his mom.

I imagined my Daddy running (yes, in his new body!) to be gathered in a hug by his mother and father.  They’d be joined by his brother, two older sisters, and family gone before.  My Daddy gets to go home where he is dancing, running, jumping, enjoying the beautiful garden he’s always imagined was in heaven (he used to say he would love for God to let him tend a garden).

I know we will miss him.

The child growing within me will not see Granddaddy Pearson on this Earth.

God did grant his request.  God allowed my Daddy to die at home, in his bed.  Daddy went into what Mom thought was a seizure.  Mom caught him, called to God to help her, then she says Daddy took a huge breath, looked at her, and told her, “I love you.  We’ve had a great life together… …I know I’m fading.  I want to go home.” They got to say goodbye.

Those we love are never truly gone.  They live on in our memories, thoughts, and hearts forever.

Thank you, Jesus, for giving me an amazing wonderful father.  Thank you for the memories I hold dear.  Thank you for allowing him to die at home in peaceful surroundings.

Hold those of us pained by this Earthly separation as we grasp the hope that is salvation.  We know we will be reunited with Gaylord Pearson again in heaven.  My goodness, what a l-o-o-o-o-n-g conversation Daddy and I will have when we meet again!

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Daddy & Mom – 1982

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Pearson family reunion – 2002 (Gaylord’s family – aka Daddy, Mom, & all 7 of us kids)

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My Daddy with 3 of his sisters L-to-R: Mary, Dolores, Carol – Reunion 2002

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Mom is about to get Daddy to dance with her!

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At Becca’s Wedding – 2012, Pearson family

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Daddy and Becca (her wedding!)

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Mom & Daddy at our family’s “Snow House” getaway in January 2014

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At Christmas 2016 : Daddy, Mom, & the older 5 siblings

Thanks for reading!

Hold those you love tenderly and treasure the memories of those who’ve had to go home before you…

~Nancy Tart

 

An Attitude of Gratitude

June 24, 2018

Attitude of Gratitude

Have you ever felt depressed because something you planned for didn’t come to pass?  Something you wanted to do with someone didn’t pan out?  Have you ever thought you did everything you could but were still shoved down?

Sometimes an unexpected illness happens even when you are doing everything to keep yourself healthy.  That causes mountains of bills.  Maybe we are contract employees or making “too much” to qualify for assistance, yet we can’t afford insurance premiums.  Sometimes, even an insurance policy doesn’t help much.  Maybe, it turns $40K bills into $14K with “rate adjustments.” (That’s still $14,000!)   You thank God for discovering the cause and pray you can manage the enemy that infects your home so you can breathe.

Bills that big can bankrupt people.  Some medical providers will work with a former patient to take monthly payments.  But for some families, the additional $200 or $300 a month means no food.  (Yes, most will take $25 or $50 a month, but when you have six or eight different bills from one visit, that adds up to a lot.)   You know you have to pay it.  But you can’t manage it.  You can’t even go afford to visit the doctor for the required “follow-up.” You just pray.

Fiscally responsible people cancel all unnecessary expenses.  But when your annual clothing budget of $50 is already gone, you don’t go out to eat, you don’t do theaters, you don’t buy new things, you haven’t even replaced your broken couch with a $50 resale one, and you already spend less than $350 a month for food for 8 people, all you can do is cut food.  You just pray.

Or try to get a higher paying job.

But you’ve been applying for every job you think you have qualifications for in north and central Florida for over 20 months with only one interview and three emails claiming: “you are overqualified.”  That’s seriously frustrating.  You have no experience with “foodservice” or “retail” and all those jobs want experience.  You just keep applying; you pray each time you email, drop-off, or hand-in an application.  You pray God’s will for your job life and pray He opens a door for you.   You’ve expanded from a 20 mile commute to a 100 mile commute.  You just pray.

You can look for cheaper housing – but that’s hard when you are paying less than what you’d be required to pay for an income-restricted apartment.  You keep looking, but really don’t have any money to move anyway.  The home you’re renting is the cause of your medical illness and thus financial problems, so yes, you’d like to leave it; you just can’t afford to.  You just pray.

This is the time when it’s very hard to really mean “I’m believing God for my needs.”

Then you had planned to go visit family for a couple of days, but because of another unexpected expense, you find you won’t have the gas money to go.  Besides, if you miss work, you’ll just fall further behind in bills.

This is when you bury your head in your hands and scream.  You’ve been trying everything humanly possible, or so it seems, and something that appears it would be so simple for most people is just out of your grasp.  Driving 10 hours to visit your brother might as well be a mission to Mars.

You may not have control on the circumstances that have put you here, but you can control your attitude (how you handle this stage of life).

This is when you have to remember to encourage yourself.  You have to say “God, you are my Rock, my fortress, my help in time of trouble.  God, you are my provider, my father, and I thank you for life, health, and provision.”

You choose an attitude of gratitude.

You have to take stock in what you do have: you have a roof (even if it’s the cause of health issues you’ve never had), you have a job (your “unofficial second job” is what you love; just no paycheck yet), your children are doing well, your marriage is strong, and you have family and friends who love you.

The last three are the most important.

Family is life.

Money is just a currency of this world to give us stress.  We either stress because we don’t have enough and literally pray for our daily bread or stress because we have too much and worry about losing it.

I can choose to have an attitude of gratitude, be thankful for what God has gifted me and trust Him for everything else.  I want my children to see thankfulness and trust. This attitude works for every stage in life – valleys full of bills and mountains with plenty.

I choose gratitude – I choose to smile.  I choose to trust. I choose to rejoice.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Looking for Positive

April 18, 2018

Looking for Positive

Sometimes it is hard to stay positive. I’d like to believe that I’m always thinking about how whatever I experience is working toward God’s glory and find a positive attitude, but that just isn’t reality. It is still a struggle for me to not drop myself into negative thoughts, worry, and the downward, hard-on-myself spiral that leads into depression.

For instance: I just got out of a three-day hospital stay for what I consider the silliest thing ever – an asthmatic allergic reaction to black mold.

History: I’d been sick since the day after our van was busted in (February 19, 2018) with what I originally thought was a cold. March 1, I went to the clinic, transferred to the ER, and diagnosed with pneumonia. Major allergic reaction (common for me is body-covered-in-chicken-pox-like-rash) to my antibiotic after 9 days led to another clinic visit because it appeared to be affecting my breathing too. They did a breathing treatment and gave me an inhaler. April 3, I went back to the clinic because I was not being able to breathe again. Breathing treatment, felt great, finished my responsibilities for that evening and woke up on the 4th almost unable to breathe. ER again. New diagnosis – no pneumonia, mild upper respiratory infection. New antibiotic, steroid, and same inhaler with orders to use it more.

On April 12, I’d finished the antibiotic, the steroid, and the inhaler. The next afternoon, I went to the clinic because I was struggling to breathe again and was, for the first time, coughing up colored (infected) mucus. They did two breathing treatments and reissued the inhaler.

On April 13, about midnight, I was unable to breathe again. I could feel there was space, but the air seemed to get “caught” just at the base of my neck. I felt my heart rate racing. My head kept trying to make me panic. My mind and lungs felt like I was at the bottom of a wave underwater with the air in sight but no way to get to the air. I kept praying for God to open up my lungs. Louis came home and instantly took me back to the ER. This time I almost fainted getting to the door; I almost passed out several times but kept forcing myself not to because I thought it was “mental” and I should be able to “handle it.”

The admitting doctor said I had “septic pneumonia” (this meant the pneumonia had gone “septic” and traveled in my body) and was reacting to the double breathing treatment & inhaler. (Side effects were listed as heart palpitations, etc.) He issued an IV antibiotic which caused a severe reaction (fever, my whole upper body went red, my larynx swelled, etc). That was scary! So I ended up in ICCU. That wasn’t accurate, but it was their first guess.

The final diagnosis was an asthmatic reaction to black mold. The pneumonia had been cleared in March, but a “small” infection was still “sitting” in my upper respiratory tract. The pulmonologist (lung specialist) said it was a reaction to something that had entered my “life” in or before December. New pet for Christmas? Nope. But when we turned off our Air Conditioning to save money in November, we discovered as we lost the A/C’s dehumidifying effect that we had black mold in the rental house. We’d saved for a few months to get a dehumidifier (in February, just after I got sick with the cold/pneumonia) and dried the house up. All the mold was cleaned and gone… except for our bed mattress. We’d attempted drying and cleaning it, and thought we’d done it, but it was a foam mattress and therefore didn’t completely dry.

I HAD BEEN SLEEPING ON THE ALLERGEN!

That made perfect sense. I’d always felt worse in the morning, it’d clear up some at work, if I laid down for a nap (trying to rest so I could get better) I felt worse.

Louis burned the mattress. (He was mad that something so stupid had almost “lost me” and I was like “just throw it away” but it was almost new and he didn’t want anyone to pick it up and use it.) He winked, “the Bible says you burn mold.” Boys… and I couldn’t argue with that.

As I was feeling better (actually, all through this sickness), I kept seeing dollar signs every time a CNA, nurse, or respiratory therapist came in the room to scan my bracelet with a new medicine. We have catastrophic insurance, but that means we have to find $15,000 before our insurance will pay anything. The clinic visits were $75 each, and we had only just started trying to pay from the first hospital visit (so far, $1200, but there may be another bill from March). We had to save for a dehumidifier… we don’t even have money saved to move to another home. (Although, we like our rental house, but Louis says we’ll drop it in a heartbeat if my breathing issue comes back.) So, it was hard to see positive while in the hospital.

I had to try to stay positive; I kept reminding myself that God says a cheerful heart does good like medicine. (Thus, outside of a gem of a Matlock show mentioned next to the Sunday paper crossword, I didn’t want to watch the TV.)

Becca, one of my sisters, brought a book I devoured. It was “In This House we will Giggle” by Courtney DeFoe. One of the volunteers on Sunday saw me doing the crossword and brought three word searches with blank white backs!

WRITING PAPER!!

One was filled with the outline for number five in “The Devonians” series (probably will be called “Convincing the Council,” but I haven’t decided yet). The other two became my journal pages with notes, quotes, Bible verses, and thoughts from or inspired by this awesome “Giggle” book. The whole idea of that book in a nutshell is this: Mom, release your worry, perfectionism, and expectations to God and learn how to choose to rejoice in everything so you can set a joyful example and cultivate godly virtues in your children. I loved reading about someone who was like me. I read that book from cover to cover four times before midnight.

On the way to pick up the girls from college the next day, I listened to one of my favorite Radio teachers, Chip Ingram. God must be making sure this message gets through because Chip’s message was about giving everything up to God, accepting that in whatever way God chooses to heal us, modern medicine (God taught us that), unexplained miracles (I’ve seen those too), or health and nutrition changes (that’s my lifestyle anyway), the glory is all still God’s.

God is more concerned with our attitude during our struggle than the outcome.

This reminds me of a character in “The Robe” (great movie): She’s a cripple who is telling the Roman “infiltrator” about her journey from bitterness to joy. He says, “but why didn’t Jesus just heal you?” She replies, “then I would be expected to be joyful, wouldn’t I?” BOOM.

God has shown us what the underlying cause for my continued illness. Thank you Jesus! I can avoid it.

God has shown me that my nutrition was fine. (The Dr said my body had enough nutrition it should have fought off the infections easily, even my iron levels were good.) Amen!

I met a nurse who has a 16-year-old homeschooled son and that greatly encouraged me in my family’s homeschool journey.

God has led us to wisdom and we’ve removed danger before it affected any of the children or Louis.

God will provide a way for us to financially cover this bill (even though it’s like a year’s rent – I can trust Him to provide us a means to pay it off). Just like we trust Him for day-to-day needs, He will cover this one too.

This is my brother’s birthday and he’s coming down this weekend – and I’m so much better than I’ve felt since January! Thank you, Jesus! My throat is clear so I can sing, my ears aren’t clogged, and my nose is open so I can smell!

I am a vendor at the Family Fun Fest in downtown Saint Augustine on the 28th of April and I’m going to be feeling awesome instead of tired and run down! I have such a positive air of expectation about this show (have since we signed up in November) and want the girls to have fun! Thank you, Jesus!

I refuse to allow the devil to draw me down into depression this time. I will find blessings in this mess (there are many!) and praise God through it even when I don’t feel like it. Let the challenge to find positivity begin!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

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