Remembering Mom

Yes­ter­day I read about a woman who just turned 100. It was a love­ly arti­cle in my news­pa­per with a head­line of, “This healthy 100-year-old runs on cof­fee.” She sounds like a humdinger. She likes to sing at home and with the group Sweet Ade­lines. She helps her niece with cross­word puz­zles. She likes to keep busy. “I don’t sit and rock half the day, oh no,” she said.

The lady reminds me of my mom, who lived until May 31st of this year. She was 103. She, too, liked to keep busy. At eigh­teen, Mom was a city girl who mar­ried a rail­road man who turned into a farmer. She fol­lowed her man from Wash­ing­ton to Mis­souri and back to Wash­ing­ton. Dad want­ed home-made bread, so she baked bread. She cooked din­ner for hay­ing crews. And pies. Oh, the pies she baked. In lat­er years a trip to the doc­tor or den­tist was an occa­sion to bake as she always took a pie along.

I remem­ber Mom as the farm wife. One time some ani­mal was killing our free-range chick­ens. Mom sat in the field with a rifle, wait­ing. A fer­al dog arrived and she dropped him with a chick­en in its mouth that ran away. But Mom had an inde­pen­dent streak. One year she decid­ed that, just because Dad was a very active Grange mem­ber, she didn’t have to be. How­ev­er, she missed it and returned. She actu­al­ly lat­er end­ed up as Mas­ter (that’s club pres­i­dent). But that inde­pen­dent streak went one step far­ther. When Dad retired, she did too. No more home-baked bread!

Mom loved to read. I remem­ber when she had a copy of For­ev­er Amber hid­den in her room. (It was the scan­dalous nov­el of the time.) And she wrote. She was my inspi­ra­tion. But while I write mys­ter­ies, she wrote poet­ry. I remem­ber a long saga she could recite and some­times amend­ed. More often she wrote poems as gifts to friends on spe­cial occa­sions. She played the piano. Once she accom­pa­nied the soloist at a wed­ding. She often played piano at Grange meet­ings and when­ev­er any­one want­ed to sing at home.

Mom's 100th Birthday

Mom’s 100th Birth­day

There was a par­ty for Mom’s 100th birth­day where she lived. Since I lived across the con­ti­nent from her, I wasn’t there that day, but my sis­ter-in-law was. Mom received cards and ate cake (hers was sug­ar-free). Mom believed in walk­ing for health. At the farm she mea­sured with a tape mea­sure, then walked that route until her goal was reached. At her assist­ed liv­ing home she walked the length of the hall twice a day. I remem­ber Mom drink­ing cof­fee like the woman in the arti­cle, but her dai­ly reg­i­men includ­ed walk­ing and drink­ing milk. It served her well.

Good bye Mom. We loved you.

I like to include book rec­om­men­da­tions in each post. Two from my library are Miss­ing Mom by Joyce Car­ol Oates and there was an old woman by Hal­lie Ephron. Nei­ther one is a cozy mys­tery. The arti­cle ref­er­enced above can be seen here.

 

Wow! Chefs to World Leaders Eat Here?

Can you believe that chefs to world lead­ers dined in a barn, sit­ting on bench­es at long wood­en tables dec­o­rat­ed with flow­ers in can­ning jars? They ate, and even raved over sim­ple dish­es like sal­ad with red beet eggs, chick­en cro­quettes, pot roast, mashed pota­toes with brown but­ter, suc­co­tash, and fresh rasp­ber­ries. They will take ideas back to their own coun­tries to serve in palaces in Eng­land, Thai­land, Swe­den, and Mona­co. The back-to-nature foods pre­pared in Lan­cast­er Coun­try, Penn­syl­va­nia, and served by Amish women and chil­dren may appear on tables in the White House, and in the homes of world lead­ers from Ger­many, Gabon, Chi­na, France, and many oth­er nations.

It was a meet­ing of the Club des Chefs des Chefs, an exclu­sive group of chefs to world lead­ers. Each year they meet in a dif­fer­ent host coun­try. This year they came to Amer­i­ca and first dined in Wash­ing­ton, Mary­land, and New York before vis­it­ing the barn in East Lam­peter, Penn­syl­va­nia.

My words can’t tell you all there is to this sto­ry. I’ve attached a link of a video and a slide show of the meal in progress, plus the news­pa­per write-up. (It’s here.)

Does this sto­ry that includes the chef to our pres­i­dent make you think of mys­tery books? It does me—but then prac­ti­cal­ly every­thing makes me think of a good mys­tery read. In fact, this arti­cle makes me think of two series, and I just hap­pen to have a few of those books in my library.

You have to know that one series is the White House Chef Mys­ter­ies by Julie Hyzy. When Buf­fa­lo West Wing  was pub­lished in 2011, Olivia Paras is billed was the first female head White House chef. Of course the plot involved a sup­ply of the pres­i­den­tial children’s favorite—spicy Buf­fa­lo wings. And Olivia gets in Dutch because she won’t let the kids touch the wings.

Speak­ing of Dutch, the Amish peo­ple men­tioned in the arti­cle reminds me of more mys­ter­ies. They are the books includ­ed in the Penn­syl­va­nia Dutch series by Tamar Myers. One of her titles is The Crepes of Wrath. Mag­dale­na Yoder dis­cov­ers that a bad batch of crepes can lead to mur­der. There are sev­er­al crepes recipes includ­ed, not one of them is fatal. Mag­dale­na is not Amish, but of anoth­er plain sect. (“Plain” is the term some use, and to the “Eng­lish” as the Amish call oth­ers, “plain” can refer to Amish, Men­non­ite, and oth­ers.)

I page through recipes in mys­tery books and get ideas (I’m often an inno­v­a­tive cook). Both series include recipes. My own mys­ter­ies include peo­ple who love food, love to talk about it, love to pre­pare and eat it, but I haven’t added recipes in the pages of my books. I’ve tried anoth­er approach. I place recipes and pic­tures on my web­site along with an excerpt from the scene that pre­sent­ed the dish. (Those recipes are here.)

Do you like mys­ter­ies that include recipes? I’d love to see your com­ments about food in mys­ter­ies, or your favorite series. (I love to find series new to me!)

News From The Past

Does your news­pa­per pub­lish week­ly reminders of our past? Mine does. One week they tell us what hap­pened 25 and 75 years ago. The next week they give us the lat­est from 50 and 100 years ago. (They’ve been in … Con­tin­ue read­ing

My first blog post

My new blog is a work in progress, so please excuse any weird­ness. I’m tak­ing a class, so it will improve, right? I will learn how to add a pic­ture of my choice to the head­line ban­ner. Although the cur­rent one is quite nice, it doesn’t have the feel­ing I’m look­ing for.

My sec­ond title, or what­ev­er it is called, is MYSTERY, HISTORY, AND SPOOKS, OH MY! As the Grand­ma Moses of Mys­tery, I write mys­tery, so that accounts for the first word. The mys­tery part refers to com­ments about his­to­ry in my first mys­tery, Yesterday’s Body, but that isn’t my entire rea­son for “His­to­ry.” The sequel to my first book (I’m writ­ing it now) is For­got­ten Body and takes place dur­ing reen­act­ments of the War of 1812. (Hey, it’s 200 years since that hap­pened. Did you know that?) Plus, a YA I’ve writ­ten and is cur­rent­ly knock­ing on a publisher’s door has a 1946 com­po­nent. That’s his­to­ry too, right?

Now for the “Spooks.” Well, prac­ti­cal­ly every­thing I write has a bit of woo woo embed­ded. Yesterday’s Body has an imag­i­nary cat. Death of a Hot Chick has a ghost with an agen­da. And the so-far unpub­lished YA? Well, that has a ghost and sort of time-trav­el as well. Even my short sto­ries that have been pub­lished are a bit woo woo. (You can read them on my web­site: www.normahuss.com)

Tues­day is my next les­son. Come back to see what impres­sive things I’ve accom­plished with the aid of Pep­per O’Neal’s class.