oh what do you do in the summertime?

There is a cliche about being made to write an essay at the beginning of every school year detailing what one did during the preceding summer. No one is making me but this is my short essay. The summer has been full of wonderful fun and love and I don't want ever to forget the perfection of kids playing on the rope swings in the old trees, or singing on the river bank, or playing in the woodpile, or meeting a horse for the first time, or ... 

Oh what have we done this summertime? Well, all kinds of wonderful summer stuff but one of the real highlights was our family camping trip. When I was a child my dad would pack up the tent and all our gear, load the jeep and take us camping. Sometimes it was camping where I was too frightened to sleep (for fear of bears!! And no there was no real threat but I was/am afraid of the dark at home in my bed, so on a mountain top it seemed pretty imminent) but more happily, sometimes we camped on the "river bottom" at my grandparents ranch along the Belly River. This summer's family camping trip was to that very same ranch - now my uncle's - along that very same river. It is the best kind of camping, or at least my favourite kind. Even the absence of facilities can't dampen my enthusiasm - in fact, although it is indubitably inconvenient to pee in the woods, it seems a lot more like real camping than being in a campground with showers and toilets and 26 foot trailers parked side by side. At the ranch we get to bounce along a rough track from "up top" down the steep hillside to a spot in the valley that has been fenced off from the cattle with barb-wire where we choose the perfect lumpy spot to pitch our tents under the ancient trees. We cook our food over a campfire and eat it as we sit on chopped logs with our plates in our laps. There are horses to ride, a river to play in, and no one around but ourselves and the cows. We fall asleep to the sound of the river flowing and waken to birds calling. It is a bit of messy, happy heaven.

For me a large part of the joy is the pull I feel to that land. For many people summer means time at the lake or the ocean but for me summer means time at the ranch with family - cousins and aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters and moms and dads. It is where we went and what we did every year. In the years since I married and had my own family we have occasionally camped at the ranch but more often our family summers have been spent other places. It felt so perfect, so complete to share some time this summer with those I love most in a place that somehow simply defines me. Where my roots are, where I have come from.

Beyond the camping there and at the lake, our summer has been full and fun. A wedding, gardening, sewing, reading, playing, eating - it has been as perfect as a summer can be. I hate to see it come to an end but experience has taught me that the next season, be it in life or in the year, will have joys specific to itself. 

Eden has posted some truly beautiful pictures of our family camping on her blog - I don't even bring my camera when she is around but I sure have fun with my phone's camera. Speaking of which, I have fallen in love with the fun to be had on Instagram. You can see more of my summer there should you want to. Nothing fancy but for me it has been pretty awesome.

You can see me HERE or use the Instagram button at the bottom of the sidebar on the right.

another birthday

At the end of my children's birthday days I engage in a private ritual -  a quiet time when I  focus on that one child of my heart. When I  know again and always how I love them, what I treasure. 

Sunday was another birthday for Eden and I remember again the day she was born, that she was who she is clearly and firmly, sweetly and quietly, from her first breath. A recognition that was unique to her birth. As I reflect on the time between then and now I can see her - consistent and distinct, feminine, strong, able. I wish she could see in herself the incredible beauty I see so easily. The big heart. The crazy talent. I wish she could see the woman I see, know the friend I know. Uniquely, wonderfully Eden.

In the tradition of birthdays in the Litchfield 'famille' we had a special gathering to celebrate - complete with cake and candles and everyone present. (Aside from Jonathon -excused on account of the distance between Calgary and Vancouver but only just.) Eden was almost as pleased with her cake this year as I was. It was a particular triumph being gluten-free and refined sugar-free (two definers that a friend pointed out did not sound very exciting!) AND very delicious. Delicious as defined by everyone not just those who must forgo (or choose not to eat) gluten and refined sugars. As I said - a triumph! Eden figured it tasted like homemade Oreo cookies. I was just happy there was a piece or two left when the dust settled :)

This cake is dense and a bit brownie-esque, with a lovely fine crumb. 

Eden's chocolate birthday cake

2 cups gluten-free flour
1 cup excellent cocoa (not Dutch process)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp sea salt
1/2 cup coconut oil
1/3 cup coconut palm sugar
1/2 cup agave syrup
2/3 cup maple syrup
1 egg + milk to equal 1 cup
1 Tbsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter two 8" round cake pans and line the bottom with parchment paper. Set aside.

Whisk together the flour (I used Bob's Red Mill Gluten-free this time), cocoa, baking powder, and salt. Melt the coconut oil and add the coconut palm sugar, agave and maple syrups. Crack the egg into a measuring cup and add enough milk to equal 1 cup. Whisk in the vanilla. Add the egg, milk, and vanilla mixture to the oil and sugars mixing well. Add the liquid ingredients to the dry and mix gently until just combined. Scrape the batter into the prepared pans and bake for 30 minutes or until a tester comes out with just the tiniest bit of chocolate on the tip.

Frost with:

1 250gm pkg of cream cheese
2/3 cup tapioca flour
1/3 cup agave nectar
1 tsp vanilla

Beat together until smooth. It firms up a bit as it sits so don't fret about the consistency. Fill and frost the two layers. 

Top with 1 cup of blueberries mixed with 1 tbsp of honey and 1 tsp water. I purposely mashed a few of the berries to colour the 'glaze'.

livin' the life

Long silence I know but I have been swanning around Rocky Mountain ski resorts with handsome men and adorable children. I offer no other explanation. I figure that says it all. Little ones bundled up, rosy cheeked and shiny eyed as they learn to navigate the slopes absolutely break my heart. Top that with a two year old crowing with delight "the mountain wake up!!!" as the sun crested - life just doesn't get much better.

After we finished with that indulgence we were off to Vancouver to catch a glimpse of our eldest son and hit many - but alas not all - of my favorite spots (while David drudged away in meetings and work). 

Both weeks were full of loved ones, an abundance of good food, doing more or less just what we wanted to, and fun. Really truly livin' the life.

a warm bed and a delicious breakfast

At the end of the day there is little that sounds more inviting to me than Bed, at the beginning of the day Breakfast is about the most compelling invitation that can be extended. Where to sleep and eat when one cannot do so in one's own home? I see the appeal of the Five Star hotel but frankly find them more intimidating than welcoming and when I am tired and/or hungry welcome is exactly what I am after.

My brother and his wife have opened the doors of their home as they have welcomed folk to Canterbury Bed and Breakfast here in Calgary. There is always fresh baking and the best warm spirit on offer. I cannot think of anywhere more welcoming than there. Just the place to end a good day and begin the next. They have recently listed the accommodation here. Close to Fish Creek Park with walking paths and wonderful natural beauty, in a quiet neighborhood, it is a lovely place to spend a night or two. (or as many as suits your fancy)

If you are thinking of a trip to this corner of the world....

http://www.bbcanada.com/13734.html?showpage=1

tomato chowder with quinoa

I am relieved that it is finally November because perhaps now we can justify the snow and cold! It was really hard to get into the spirit of Halloween when it just felt more like January. (I know that is a bit of an exaggeration - when January is truly here this weather will seem downright lovely but I don't have my thick Canadian-winter-blood running yet.) At any rate, between the snow and cold and a sore throat/cough thing soup was all I wanted to eat this week. It was the perfect chance to try something that had been  rattling around in my mind for a few weeks.

Jonathon has recently started a new job (as President of Martha Sturdy - and yes, I am proud!!!) and as part of team-building had a retreat to Martha's beautiful ranch in Pemberton, BC. When Jonathon was telling me about the event he waxed slightly poetic about a tomato soup that Martha had made. It sounded so delicious that I was determined to give it a try. A rich, thick tomato soup with vegetables. This is not Martha's recipe - just a soup I made inspired by Jonathon's ode to Martha's soup. I would love to try her soup but have to say that we thoroughly enjoyed what was in our own soup pot. As an endorsement I offer this: David quite dislikes eating the same thing in close succession but we had this soup for our evening meal one day and for lunch the three days following and he mentioned that the soup was so good that he was really enjoying it - even three days running for lunch. That may not seem like much to anyone else but it is high praise indeed!

This soup is almost as easy as opening a can and so much better. It is tangy with the tomatoes and herbs, full of vegetables and smoothed out with just a tiny bit of cream. The quinoa adds more fiber, additional protein, and nice body. 

The last day we had this for lunch I added a few drops of Louisiana hot sauce just to change it up a tiny bit. 

And as for Halloween? We did something we had never done before - filled a huge bowl with treats, put them on the doorstep with a sign, and retreated to watch Snow White and the Huntsman - which ended up being a pretty good Halloween movie.  The sign recommended taking a couple of treats but since the bowl was empty by 7:30 and it was awfully cold for trick-or-treating, my guess is that the little ghouls took by the armfuls. lol

p.s. you should really check out Martha's house. Well, one of them - it was featured this last summer in Canadian House and Home magazine. Martha is an iconic artist and her favoured medium is resin. From housewares to furniture to canvases and sculpture - all very cool and beautiful.

tomato chowder with quinoa

2 Tbsp unsalted butter

1 large onion, finely chopped

3 cloves garlic,  minced

1 28-oz can crushed tomatoes

4 cups chicken stock

3 sprigs fresh oregano (or 1 Tbsp dried)

2 mild Italian sausages, cut into 'coins'

1 lb yellow fleshed 'baby' potatoes - halved if small, quartered for the larger ones

2 stalks celery, diced

3 medium carrots, cut into half moons

1/3 cup quinoa

sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

1/4 cup heavy cream

Melt the butter in a large heavy pot over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic. Cook, stirring,  until translucent. Add the sausage, celery, potatoes, and carrots and cook for a minute or two, stirring to coat the vegetables and let things begin to get carmel-y edges. Add the chicken stock, quinoa, and oregano. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer (covered) until the vegetables are tender - about 20 minutes. Stir in the crushed tomatoes and bring back to a simmer. Cook for another 10 minutes. Stir in the cream and add the salt and pepper to taste.

apple dumplings

My dad loved apple desserts and my mom enjoyed making them for him. The rest of us were grateful for that arrangement for obvious reasons. A few years ago my mom gave me the recipe card that my dad had written out for her with the recipe for apple dumplings. I treasure this card (and keep it on the bulletin board in my kitchen) because it so reminds me of him - his unique handwriting, the small joke, and of course the apple dumplings. The joke was on me when I made these dumplings the other day because in the course of shredding the apples I remodelled my thumb quite significantly and had the dickens of a time keeping my own red blood out of the filling! (I know, gross but true - maybe some day I will learn that rushing in the kitchen while trying to do three things at once is not terribly wise.) One of the things that I love about the recipe on the card is the abbreviated method - this is a simple dessert but not quite that intuitive! Old recipes are often written like though, with the assumption that all one needs is a reminder of what ingredients are required and everything is a go.

In the original recipe a whole peeled apple is wrapped in each square of dough, my mom's version uses grated or shredded apples liberally laced with cinnamon. We love it that way and I follow the family tradition. I know that the apples in the photo look like they have been sitting out far too long but really, under all the cinnamon they are wearing they are still fresh. My aunt once told my mom that if it isn't brown (re the cinnamon) it isn't Merrill. I added a little oil of cinnamon to the sauce and omitted the blood but other than that this is the recipe my dad copied for my mom. The red food coloring is optional but pretty.

After the encounter with a sharp blade I finished the apple shredding with my much-loved Kitchenaid food processor. I recommend using a food processor if you have one but if you don't, grate carefully. Digits are precious and I prefer mine as integers.

apple dumplings
(from Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook circa 1955)

1 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups water
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
2 drops oil of cinnamon
2 drops red food coloring
3 Tbsp butter
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2/3 cup shortening
1/2 cup milk

filling:
5 medium apples, cored and shredded
1 1/2 Tbsp cinnamon
3/4 cup brown sugar (or to taste)


Mix the sugar, water, cinnamon, nutmeg, oil of cinnamon, and red food coloring in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and add butter. Set aside.

Shred the apples and mix with the cinnamon and sugar.

Sift the dry ingredients together; cut in the shortening until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the milk all at once, stirring just until moistened. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to a large rectangle - about 1/4" thick. Cut the dough into 5-inch squares.
(I got 11 'squares' - some of them weren't exactly straight on the sides but that doesn't really matter in the end and I prefer not to work the dough too much by re-rolling it.) Place  about 1/4 cup of apple filling on each square. Bring corners to center and pinch edges together.

Place 1 inch apart in ungreased 9x11" baking pan. Pour syrup over the dumplings. Bake at 375 degrees F. for 35 minutes. Serve warm with cream or ice cream.

isaac

A sniff away from 10 months old and sweet, sweet, sweet. I love that face. And when he smiles.... the most adorable dimples appear. He reminds me so much of his dad when he was a tiny boy - quiet, sweet, busy, and quick as a cat. Gently trusting. I love him to bits. I am the luckiest grandy. So much love.

I am full and content.

where I am now

Two years ago, deep in the misery of loss, I wished for some kind of how-to. I wanted to know how long, how hard, what to do. I felt so      lost.     The task of recovering, or regaining my balance seemed entirely out of reach. Sometimes even just breathing was simply, very hard. Life hurt. I didn't know how to manage myself let alone how to help my husband, my children, my friends. 


For the last few months I have debated this post. I write it not in a bid for attention or sympathy but because of that wish for guidance. Perhaps someone, somewhere, sometime, will need to know. A little bit. And find some hope.

Summer is full of Merin for me. Perhaps that is because the last precious memories of her are summertime - a July bride, a first home, a sweet baby, family time at the lake, learning to be a mom. And then of course, the accident. And a funeral.

Merin was our youngest child. My last offering. Not more loved than any of the other four but the last and so we spent a different kind of time together. She was a daughter after two sons - the distance between Merin and her sibs seemed greater than the 2 1/2 years that separated her from her next older brother because Mark and Thomas were always a pair. She was simply always with me. We liked being together - a good thing as she homeschooled for grades 8 - 12 to accommodate her ballet training. We worked well together - most of the time. I knew her. She knew me. When she died we were having so much fun. The same fun that I had learned to love with Eden. Relating in a different kind of mother/daughter stage - as adults, friends, mothers together. The three of us (Eden, Merin, and I) were having such a good time. Hannah (Thomas's wife) made the mix even sweeter. 

I miss the particular mix. I miss Merin's voice each morning on the phone when she would call. I miss her. When I drive by the street they lived on I feel a tug of sadness. One day not long ago I realized, as I drove by that street and felt that tug, that I was missing the fulfillment of so many plans that Merin and I had made together. Some of those plans were explicit (finishing their kitchen renovation for example) and others were simply expected - summer afternoons watching kids play in the sprinkler, shopping trips, Christmas baking afternoons - all that and more. I wasn't finished having fun.


Even though two years have now passed I find it hard to believe that although I know she is gone I still have a hard time really believing it. It remains surreal. I dreamed of her again a few weeks ago. It was kind of fun - she was just playing with me, laughing and teasing in her sweet, gentle way that made me feel loved. I miss her. I wasn't ready to stop playing with her. And like a two year old that is called to bed when in the middle of fun play, I could dissolve into frustrated tears over it.

So where am I now? And how could this help anyone? Realizing that every journey through grief is intensely personal and that there really is no timetable, no plan, and therefore no how-to I would like to offer that it does get better. As I write this with tears on my cheeks and a lump in my throat, I know that it is so much better than it was. There is still sorrow but no longer the raw, tearing pain that took my breath away. It is more an ache. No longer a constant presence, it is like an injury that manifests when probed - I feel it when something reminds me. At other times just because. Memories are sweeter and so welcome. I can honestly say that I have been blessed with peace and I have hope for even greater peace as more years pass.

I am intensely grateful for my loving and strong husband, for my incredible children, for the concern we have for one another and the fun we have together. The prayers that have been offered on our behalf have taught me much about faith and the real, tangible effect it has - I want never to forget. The comfort of the blessings of the atonement of Jesus Christ. The grace of my Father in Heaven. Friends. Service. Work. All of these things have helped me. But what helps and has helped me is for another day, separate from where I am.

The joys in life are now a little sweeter in contrast.

summer squash gratin at the lake

We spent a practically perfect week at Echo Lake in Montana with almost all of our offspring last week. 6 adults + 5 young children = never a dull moment. 

While we were there we celebrated Jonathon's birthday. The great part of having adult kids is they make the very best friends. The not so great part is that sometimes they don't live in the same city as I do. Jonathon fits into both of those categories. It's not often that we are together for his birthday so it was a treat for me to make a special meal for him. Nevertheless we were at the lake, so relaxed and sunny were the order of the day (who am I kidding? relaxed and easy is the way I cook) and there were the five little people with the likes and dislikes that come along with that set who were also at the party. So... it was simple but oh so good. We ate on the deck, in the sun, after a day of swimming and playing together. Life is so very good sometimes.

I made the summer squash gratin with salsa verde and gruyere that I had tagged from Food52. The weather was lovely and hot so I debated the wisdom of using the oven but decided the food would be worth the heat. It absolutely was! This gratin was even better than I thought it would be and I had pretty high expectations. Since we were at the cabin I used a bottled Salsa Verde - it was good (and certainly a lot simpler than making my own that day). Next time I would make fresh. It would be just that much better. Again claiming cabin-whatever, I used some especially good, very old cheddar instead of the gruyere (the local shop didn't stretch to gruyere - go figure), and since we had our gluten-free members to consider, used gluten-free bread to make the breadcrumbs. We barbeque'd some fresh sausages, steamed local corn on the cob, tossed a green salad and came away very satisfied.

summer squash gratin with salsa verde 
(adapted from Food 52)

2 pounds zucchini, sliced 1/8" thick
1 1/2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
3 Tbsp unsalted butter
3/4 cups thinly sliced shallot
1 tsp minced garlic
1 Tbsp thyme leaves
1 3/4 cups grated extra-old cheddar
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup salsa verde

Heat the oven to 400 degrees F. Toss the zucchini slices in a large bowl with 2 tsp sea salt and let sit for 10 minutes.

Place the breadcrumbs in a bowl. Heat a small saute pan over medium heat. Add the butter and cook for a few minutes until brown and nutty smelling. Pour the brown butter over the breadcrumbs (don't miss the brown bits!). After the butter has cooled for about a minute toss well.

Working by the handful, gently squeeze the squash to remove the excess water. Transfer the squeezed squash (love that!! ha) to a large bowl. Add the shallots, minced garlic, thyme, 1/2 cup salsa verde, and some pepper. Toss to combine. Add the cheese and half the butter coated breadcrumbs. Toss again. Place the mixture into a gratin dish or cast iron skillet. Top with the remaining breadcrumbs and bake for 35-40 minutes - until the squash is tender and the top is crisp.

picking cherries

Yesterday was the Day to pick the Nanking Cherries. For most of my life picking Nankings has been a yearly event. When I was a child we had a long hedge of Nanking Cherry bushes and my mom made jelly from the juice of the cherries. It was our job to pick the cherries and we couldn't swim or play until the daily quota was reached. I know there were days that I griped and moaned about the chore. It felt like I had to pick cherries every day of the summer. Now I know that it could only have been a week or ten days - at the most! - and probably only an hour or so of each day at that. But I also remember that it was pretty fun sometimes. Cousins came to pick for their moms, or neighbourhood friends joined us at times (there were plenty of cherries for all). Of course, there were spiders and scratches, spilled buckets and tears; but there were also picking contests, laughing and talking while we picked, and the simple satisfaction of filling the bucket and being done for the day. 

Now we have a Nanking Cherry hedge that grows at the back of our garden - this year the cherry crop is heavy. I started picking early, when the morning was fresh and quiet. Just the birds, the squirrels, the spiders and me. Thomas, Jane, and Theo joined me partway through the morning and were a very welcome distraction. (I must admit that when Jane walked into the garden in her perfectly adorable black and white dress I felt totally under-dressed at my own cherry picking party - my perfectly comfortable and grubby grey knit shorts just don't have the same cachet.) Theo announced that he was going to pick 200 cherries .... I think he probably did! 

I am grateful that I had to pick cherries - that my parents were wise enough to teach me the value and satisfaction of doing a chore and doing it well. It is a joy to see my children teach the same lessons to their sweet children, even though it is no easier than it was for my parents to teach me. I love that we have a family culture of working together - and that working together is fun.

Post script - wow! father and son... not just a little alike!! And (excuse me, please) but sooooo swoon-worthy handsome. Love them, I do :)

intense chocolate cake

Saturday was Thomas's birthday so yesterday we celebrated. It is our custom to have a family birthday dinner on the Sunday that is closest to the birth date. The birthday 'celebrity' has the option as to what is on the menu. Sometimes the requests are very specific and detailed, others rather general. This year Thomas asked for salmon (general) and an intense chocolate cake "maybe that flour-less one you make" (specific). 

This cake is fantastically, intensely chocolate. Not sweet, not bitter. Just fantastic. And chocolate. It is a special occasion cake - at least at our house - because although it isn't precisely difficult it requires chopping a lot of chocolate, (a task I find tedious), cutting up butter (messy and tedious), and several steps. I generally stick to fast and easy and this is neither. It is however pretty simple. Please read all the directions through first - much simpler in the end and a better outcome. You'll understand.

Other than chopping three-quarters of a pound of chocolate and cutting up half a pound of butter (no, this is not diet food Virginia) the trickiest part of the whole deal yesterday was turning the cake out of the pan. It very nearly ended up in a smushed mess on the floor - very, very nearly. As it was it left a good smudge across the counter (yummy to clean up) and had a bit of a blemish on one side. Still tasted amazing just not quite as pretty. 

The recipe is more or less straight out of my well-loved New York Times Essential Cookbook where it is listed as Lora Brody's Bete Noire - who would not want to try that?!! Really. And it is really that good. Well worth the chopping. The only change I made was to use coconut palm sugar in place of regular granulated sugar, in respect of Eden staying away from refined sugars. 

And Thomas? He is certainly worth chopping chocolate for. He always was and always will be. He is a most wonderful son and an intensely amazing man. I just can't wrap my head around him being 30! How did that happen!?

intense chocolate cake (flourless)

(from The New York Times Essential Cookbook by Amanda Hesser)

1/2 cup water

1 1/3 cups coconut palm sugar

1/2 pound unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped

1/4 pound semisweet chocolate, finely chopped

1 cup unsalted butter, cut into small pieces and softened

5 extra-large free range eggs, at room temperature

Heat oven to 350 Degrees F. Butter the sides and bottom of a 9" round cake pan and coever the bottom with a neat circle of parchment paper.

Combine the water with 1 cup of the sugar in a 2 quart saucepan with a candy thermometer attached. Bring to a boil and cook to 220 degrees F - about 4 or 5 minutes. Remove from heat and immediately add the chopped chocolate, stirring until it is melted and smooth. Immediately start adding the butter, stirring gently until all of it is used and the mixture is smooth.

Put the eggs and the remaining 1/3 cup sugar in a large mixing bowl. Using a whisk attachment (stand or hand mixer) start beating on high speed and continue until the mixture is quite thick, pale, and tripled in volume - up to 15 minutes.  Fold the chocolate mixture into the egg mixture, stirring carefully until fully blended.

Scrape the mixture into the prepared pan. Set the pan in a slightly larger pan (I use a roasting pan) and pour boiling (don't cheat and try to get away with hot tap water - doesn't work very well. I know) water around it. Don't let the sides of the pans touch. Place in the oven and bake for 25 minutes. Insert the sharp point of a knife into the middle of the cake; if it comes out clean it is done. If it is not clean, continue baking for another 10 minutes. To be honest, although the recipe says "Do not cook longer than a total of 35 minutes", I have not even once had the cake be 'done' at the 35 minute mark. I have followed the recipe and taken it out at that point but it was a pretty sticky mess even cooled. So I routinely bake this cake for about 42 minutes. I would recommend checking at the 25 and 35 minute marks and then deciding from there. Even at 42 minutes the knife is not entirely clean for me but once the cake has cooled it is perfect. Cool in the pan (out of the water bath) for 10 minutes.

Run a sharp knife around the edges of the cake and unmold onto a cookie sheet, remove the paper. Invert a serving plate over the cake and turn it right side up onto the serving plate. (This is where I almost met my Waterloo yesterday. It's tricky because the cake is still very soft, so it is hard to turn it without squishing it. At least it makes me nervous.) Serve warm or at room temperature with unsweetened whipped cream ... and fresh berries.

brand new

Tiny, brand new, fresh baby smelling. Ewan Thomas Litchfield. Born this morning - very early. 6 lb 15 oz of perfection. My eighth grandchild - fifth grandson - a handsome boy. He has a thick shock of blonde hair. A double crown like his mama. And skin that seems a bit too big for him yet. He is calm and alert, gently swimming through the air in that dreamy newborn way. Precious, so precious.  Although he shares my heart with seven others, he has it all. I am excited to watch his life unfold. To see and know the person he will be. My heart is full this evening. Life is very good. Well done Hannah and Thomas. I love you all.


He is even cuter (if possible) after a bath. And yes, I am in love again.

always, always...

Always, always, always I wanted to be a mother. When I was a little girl I loved my dollies. When I played with my cousins and friends, we more often than not played ‘house’, making elaborate messes with the doll clothes, play furniture and dishes. As I grew and those same friends started to talk about what they wanted to be when they grew up, I never wondered. I played along like I was exploring the different possibilities but it was never very real for me. Because I knew I wanted to be a mother. When I did in fact reach the age of attending university the decision to study Education was easily made. I wanted to take something that would be practical in my chosen career. There were other options that appealed to me as being interesting but I knew that if I could pursue my first choice (motherhood) that would be best served by studying how children learn and how to teach them. So I declared a major in Early Childhood Education. I didn’t teach professionally (aside from some interesting/alarming experiences as a substitute teacher) but I have never regretted that or my decision to prepare to teach my own sweet children.

Deciding to be a Professional Mother has been (and will continue to be) a joy and a blessing to me. I recognize that I have been very blessed to be able to follow that path - to have welcomed children into my life, to be at home with them and to make a home for our family. It wasn’t particularly fashionable to have five children but I didn’t care - I felt so lucky and so happy as we planned and anticipated the arrival of each child. I loved being pregnant and was fortunate to have healthy, active pregnancies. I felt strong and empowered as I delivered each beautiful son and daughter into this world. And I felt completed as I held and nurtured each tiny person. What a great privilege to be given the responsibility for another person’s beginning. So very humbling to know that a tiny being depends on you for every comfort and need.

At every stage of our family’s life I have wanted to stop time because everything seemed so perfect, so golden and I could not imagine that it would ever be as good again. But I have recognized how often I have thought that and now expect that I will love each new stage as I have the previous ones. Once I could not imagine how I could be happy without an infant in my arms and home but I was. I wondered how I would feel about mothering teenagers but discovered that my kids just got better and better as they got older. And when they all left home and it was just David and I together, I thought my whole purpose in life was finished as well, but again I learned that although the landscape had changed, it was only different not worse. I am always a mother. It is not only what I do, it is who I am. I  love each of my children fiercely and completely. I know them   - their strengths, weaknesses, joys, fears - and find them infinitely precious. There is nothing of myself I would not give them and not one of them that I would exchange for another. I marvel at the wonderful talents and strengths - each unique but curiously related - and rejoice in the love, support and respect that has grown between us.

I always knew I wanted to be a mother. I didn’t know how much it would demand nor could I have guessed how much it would return. I am happy to say now  - I love it! No matter the hardships or the sorrows, I love being a mother to the five I “hatched”. Nothing could be better. Always, always, always ....

Happy Mother's Day.


In the summer of 2010 Eden and Merin worked together on the beginning of a very special gift for David and I. Eden completed it after Merin's death. She asked me to write an essay on myself as a mother. This is what I wrote (with a few minor edits). For the last couple of weeks as I have been reflecting on mothers and mothering many various ideas have occupied my thoughts. As I sat down to record some of them this morning, I decided to add this to the public record of who I am. It is included in the book that Eden (and Jonathon) made but that is a very private record. This is in a way, my Motherhood Manifesto. 

I have lived in Tokyo, Osaka, Vancouver, and Calgary. I have travelled in Korea, Thailand, China, India, Cambodia, America, and the UK. But until last month I had never been to Mexico - unless one counts a reckless and terrifying drive over the border, through Tijuana, and gratefully back without even rolling down the windows. (And I don't count that - we had been warned....) Mazatlan was entirely wonderful. The weather was perfect and the pace relaxed. I was with some of my very favourite people.


We shared the time with Daylan and Eden and their family. I felt absolutely intimidated (as always) to even carry a camera when Eden is around but it was also a good chance to learn, so I got over myself - or tried to - and aimed at something other than food. Nothing like what Eden shoots but still memories. In my mind the whole experience is drenched in colour - the light, the unabashedly and exuberantly painted buildings, the beautifully warm people, everything. Calgary seemed very taupe when we returned. 

The trip made a new store of memories to take out and savour whenever I wish. I love those treasures - they are sustaining when the days are not quite so bright. Family is not always a simple joy but it always, always worth every effort. For me. When I add up the checks and balances on that ledger, I realize how very rich I am. What a bank account!

olive oil almond orange cake with vanilla mascarpone

This cake was the blissful final course of our most recent family-gathering-Sunday-supper-noise-and-nonsense. Everyone was here - sadly an increasingly rare event - which means a lot of activity. Three toddlers, one infant, and three more eight and under plus, of course, the eight attendant adults.  The older cousins (Deacon, Aubrie and Jane) were excited to be re-united after several weeks and the weather was mild enough to invite them outdoors with the additional excitement of play with the next-door neighbours. Theo slipped off for a bit of "quiet time" in the office (we are still looking for a couple of items - lol), Ysa enjoyed her books and babies, while Kayden dashed madly from pillar to post to piano and back. The meal itself was a happy, busy, noisy affair - exactly the way I love it. But when this cake was cut and the first bites were taken .... it all stopped. All but the mmmmmmmmm's.

I expected the cake to be good from reading the recipe. I expected it to be interesting and flavourful. I didn't expect it to be a show-stopper. Every single one of us loved it and wished that there was more than a crumb left. Everyone but for Isaac - and he is too little yet to know what he is missing.

I made it again last night when we had dinner with a couple of good friends. Sunday I made it gluten-free, last night with regular wheat flour. I have to say that it was much better with the gluten-free whole grain flour mix I use. Regardless of dietary considerations from now on when I make this cake it will always be gluten-free. It was lighter and more moist - entirely better.

The cake is lovely but the topping? Divine! One lick and we knew that as devoted as we have been to cream cheese icing we are moving on. New love. Easy and refined-sugar free. Don't make the cake without it. The blueberries added the perfect little burst of sweet/tart.

Peace reigned for almost four minutes. Bliss.

olive oil almond orange cake with vanilla mascarpone

(adapted from Cook This Now by Melissa Clark)

1/2 cup gluten-free whole grain flour mix

1/2 cup buckwheat flour

1/2 cup almond flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp sea salt

3 large eggs

1/2 cup honey

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract

2 Tbsp freshly grated orange zest

1/2 cup freshly squeezed orange juice

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a 9" springform pan and line the bottom of the pan with parchment paper. Whisk together the flours, baking powder, and salt.

In the bowl of an electric mixer whisk together the eggs and honey. Add the olive oil and whisk until the mixture lightens and thickens slightly. Whisk in the vanilla, then the orange zest, and finally the orange juice. Add the dry ingredients to the bowl and fold in by hand until thoroughly combined. The batter will be thin. No worries. Pour it into the prepared pan and bake until the sides of the cake begin to pull away from the pan and a toothpick inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean - about 30 minutes.

Cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then gently remove from pan and allow to cool completely.

vanilla mascarpone

1 vanilla bean, split in half lengthwise

2 cups mascarpone cheese

2 Tbsp honey

Use the back of a knife to scrape the seeds out of the vanilla bean halves. Add the seeds to the mascarpone and whisk until fluffy. Whisk in the honey. Serve generous dollops with the cake and lots of blueberries.