Category: Life

Posted in faith, family, Life

The excitement is building: It’s almost Easter!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Growing up, Easter was as exciting as Christmas. I had a hard time getting to sleep the night before. My brother, sister, and I all woke up way too early on Easter Sunday morning. Why? We couldn’t wait to get our Easter baskets! The church was always a part of our family life, but we never missed out on all the other good stuff, too.

I have no idea where the tradition came from, but every Easter our baskets would have a string tied to them. It was a treasure hunt. The string would wind around furniture, through different rooms, and finally lead us to a small present. The only specific present I remember receiving was a Matchbox bulldozer. I know, that has nothing to do with Easter, but I thought it was really cool.

In addition to the hard-boiled eggs we had dyed the day before, our baskets were filled with jellybeans, malted milk balls coated to look like candy eggs, a few marshmallow bunnies, and sometimes a solid chocolate bunny.

This one comes in sizes up to 64 oz!

My mom always ordered a special dark-chocolate covered coconut cream egg from a local candy store. A little larger than the size of a softball, I remember it weighing several pounds and was unbelievably sweet. Apparently, these eggs were a Philadelphia tradition. My mom always ate most of it, slicing off pieces like she was carving a roast.

When I walked through Walmart a few days ago, I saw four aisles devoted to Easter baskets, candy, decorations, and toys. It’s still very exciting. It’s very exciting for retailers, who predict we’ll spend $23 billion dollars on Easter this year. That’s every kind of chocolate candy you can imagine is wrapped for Easter. That’s why jellybeans come in so many flavors.

But I saw no solid bunnies. Just the hollow chocolate ones. The big coconut cream eggs? I would probably have to order one online. Other Easter candy? We’ve got plenty of that. Don’t worry, I’ll let the grandkids have some, too.

Posted in Life, Moments of grace

It’s not over yet: A little bit of green

Posted on by William Douthwaite

They weren’t dead after all. I got down on my knees, dug through the mulch and saw a little bit of green. There is still some life here!

The winter in northeast Florida had just enough freezing days to knock the life out of a lot of my yard plants. I thought I lost my hibiscus and crotons. They were nothing but brown sticks standing around the house. I needed to replace them.

I was not prepared for the high prices at the big box garden center. Inflation is alive and well. Nine dollars for a bag of dirt? Five dollars for a blooming quart sized annual? Six dollars for a pepper plant? Nine bucks for a croton? That was the small size. A big one will set you back $16.

I went back home to rethink my garden strategy. I went back out to the front yard and looked at the sticks in the ground. Being a glass half full kind of guy, I got up close and personal with them to see if there was any sign of life at all. And there was. Little tender green shoots were just beginning to reach up from the base of the sticks. I pulled back the mulch to give them better access to sunlight. I poured on some water and a little liquid fertilizer. I think they’re going to make it!

I’m going to start a lot of my own plants from seeds now too. I did a little research and it’s not hard to propagate crotons or just about any other plant. Remember putting a seed in a cup of dirt in kindergarten to grow a flower for mom? There’s another early education lesson that pays off later in life.

A lot of my neighbors don’t even try. I don’t see many colors in their yards when I go for a walk. Just green and brown. I’m not going to be that guy. I’ve got my sights set on the whole rainbow.

It’s Holy Week. I’m not preaching this year, but my garden is. The Creator cleverly embedded the message of resurrection in his creation. Nice job, God!

Posted in grandparenting, Life

Reading (yawn) with my granddaughter

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Free Stock photos by Vecteezy

This week we watched two of our granddaughters while number three was being born. The couple of hours after morning preschool is designated quiet time at their house. The two-year old sleeps pretty well. The four-year old defines “quiet” differently than I do.

Yesterday’s primary quiet time activity was baking cookies. They were pre-made, pre-formed, pre-cut refrigerator cookies each featuring a unicorn. It only took her a few minutes to place each one on a parchment paper covered sheet pan. My wife popped them in the oven, leaving one hour and fifteen minutes of quiet time to go.

“Hey, grandpa, can you read me this story?” A book of five-minute Disney princess stories lay open on the coffee table.

“Sure.”

I love to read, and I love to read to children. I was as fascinated by the stories as she was. Each was tale of something that happened after the classic princess movie. Cinderella was competing in a horse show. Belle and a new friend were working on inventions. Ariel was planning her wedding to Prince Eric.

At the end of each one, she pointed to the next and said, “Now read this one.” My eyes get very heavy in the early afternoon, especially if I sit and read. Ordinarily I’d take a quick nap or do something active. Today I soldiered on. Three stories in, I had to pause, stand up, change position, and rub my eyes to continue reading about Mulan and Sleeping Beauty. The struggle to stay awake was real.

Finally the cookies were cool enough to eat. I welcomed the sugar rush. Then mom and dad walked in the door with the new baby.

She was fast asleep. I like your style, little one.

Posted in cooking, Life

Where there’s smoke: Pay attention to the cooking oil you use

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Duane Mendes on Unsplash

I was feeling confident about my culinary expertise when something as simple as cooking oil humbled me.

In my defense, it was not my kitchen, so I was using an unfamiliar pan, range, and ingredients. I was at my daughter’s house where my wife and I were staying with a couple of granddaughters while their mom gave birth to number three.

I brought a small ribeye steak with me for supper the first night. At home I would just throw it on the grill. No grill here, so I got ready to pan fry it. At home I would reach for my cast iron frying pan. My daughter had a very nice set of stainless steel cookware. A pan’s a pan, right?

I let it warm up on medium heat while I ground a little salt and pepper onto the meat. Holding my hand over the pan, I could tell it was ready. I grabbed the non-stick spray from the cabinet and gave the pan a quick shot. Even though I quickly took it off the burner, a cloud of smoke filled the kitchen. I turned on the fan only to discover it wasn’t vented to the outside. The smoke alarms started beeping, my wife open the sliding glass door to the backyard and tried to fan the bad smoke out and the good air in. The oldest granddaughter asked, “What are you doing, grandpa?”

It looked like I had no idea what I was doing. I did recover and the steak tasted great. The pan was a pain to clean. I had much to learn about cooking with oil.

I did some quick research online. If I’m are cooking at high temperatures, refined avocado, safflower, and light olive oil work well. At medium temperatures, use corn, coconut, sunflower, and canola oil. Vegetable shortening, extra virgin olive oil, and butter are for lower temperatures. I’ve got a lot to learn, though. Some of those oils taste better certain sauces, marinades, and dressings than others.

For the next two days, the odor of burning oil greeted my nose every time I walked into their house. However, as we packed up to leave today, the smell was just about all gone. Whew.

Posted in Life

Another child to hold

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Jimmy Conover on Unsplash

This afternoon I got to meet number nine – my ninth grandchild – in person. We’ve got a baseball team now. It’s always a special moment to hold a newborn, but even more so when it’s family.

We need these moments to say, “Hello!” in a world where we too often speak a graveside “Goodbye” to those we’ve loved for so long. A birth interrupts the news of another shooting, disease, storm, or war to remind us it’s not over yet. Life happens, too.

Fast asleep in her swaddle, I didn’t get to hear her voice, look into her eyes, tickle her toes, or let her tiny fingers wrap around mine. I’m looking forward to those moments.

This small person, completely dependent upon the care of her parents, will get whatever she wants, day or night, at least in the beginning. She will exert control over her family’s schedule, priorities, and activities. She is the main event, the headliner, Miss Popularity, and the keynote speaker all rolled into one. At least for now.

And we love it. We love these moments. And we love her. We hardly know her but she has captured our hearts. We wonder, “Where have you been?” She reminds us of how precious life is. Not just hers, but ours. And “those” people, too. (You know who I’m talking about.)

Her dad said she started yelling right away, announcing, “I’m here!” We’re glad you are. Welcome, little one.

Posted in Life

Another garden begins to grow

Posted on by William Douthwaite
This is what the rock garden looked like a few years ago.

My four-year-old grandson and I have really gotten into painting rocks. We’ve also begun the habit of attending preschool storytime at the library each Wednesday morning.

There is a rock garden outside the library. Someone there laid out a nice three-foot by three-foot mulched area not far from the front door for painted rocks. According to the sign there, passersby can take one for inspiration, share one for motivation, or leave one to help the garden grow. Cool idea.

Week after week we stop at the rock garden and never saw a rock, other than a large center brick. Of course, week after week we also forgot to bring some rocks.

We finally remembered on our way out the door on Wednesday. He carefully picked out three rocks to take with us: a dark blue one featuring a jellyfish, a green one, and a light blue one. He had painted the solid ones; I can take credit for the sea creature. When we got to the library, there were, of course, no rocks there. He carefully and proudly placed the rocks.

We walked inside, returned last week’s books, went to story time, and then found a few new books to borrow from the children’s library. When we returned to look at the rock garden, two of the rocks had already been taken!

He was a little disappointed, but I told him it was a good thing. Someone had noticed his rocks. Someone was enjoying his rocks. And maybe someone would paint rocks and bring them to share. We might be the ones to revive this dormant garden!

Posted in garden, Life

From Tiny Seeds to Blooming Beauty: The Miracle of Gardening

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Joshua Lanzarini on Unsplash

As wandered through the garden shop’s aisles of colorful and more expensive than ever pots of annuals, I decided, “I’m going to plant some seeds this year.” I had just finished cleaning up my backyard gardens which were now, other than the amaryllis, devoid of color. Having seen the beautifully landscaped entrances to gated-communities near me, I visualized now nice my garden would look in just a few weeks.

The seed display is off in the corner, behind the patio furniture. This store stocks two brands, and each brand offers regular and organic packets of vegetable and flower seeds. Other than price, I doubt there is much difference between organic and non-organic seeds. I’ll look that up later.

I’ve researched what flowers will grow best in my area, so I am armed with a list. The pictures on each packet explode with color. I underestimated just how amazing my garden will look!

I find zinnias, marigolds, and cosmos, but none of the others on my list. I know, I should have just shopped online. But then I’d miss the sights and smells that get my gardening juices flowing. I do find a couple of colorful flower mixes. I’ll give those a try.

Back home, I’m ready to plant. I carefully open the first packed of zinnia seeds. Wow, you don’t get very many seeds in a packet. They’re tiny, too. I carefully pour some into the palm of my hand. Don’t sneeze, or they’ll be gone. Picking up a few between thumb and forefinger, I drop them along a line I’ve drawn in the soil with a trowel. I can’t even see where they’ve landed. Before I know it, they’re gone. Trusting that they have found a home, I gently cover them with a 1/4-inch layer of dirt. That’s not very much, but that’s what the instructions call for. I do this with all my purchased seeds. They didn’t go very far. I will have to buy more for other areas in the garden.

I grab my watering can and moisten all the areas I’ve planted. And that’s it. Done. And what do I have to show for all my efforts? Nothing. My garden looks exactly the same as when I started. Dirt. I know, it takes a few days for the seeds to germinate and weeks before I’ll see any flowers.

The whole process is a simple yet powerful act of faith. Faith that the seed will actually grow. Faith that the plants will actually produce flowers. Faith that color will explode from that little black speck that disappeared into the ground.

It’s a miracle. A lifeless seed comes to life with some soil, sun, and water. And I get to watch that miracle happen.

Posted in Food, Life

Did I really eat a better school lunch?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I just read the news that Lunchables will now be included in school lunches next fall. I’m sure that raised a lot of eyebrows. I was under the impression that Lunchables, though loved by children, were one of the unhealthiest meal choices. Kraft Heinz, who produce Lunchables, says they have reformulated them to meet government nutrition guidelines. Hmm.

My daughter told me that in her school district, every child gets free breakfast and lunch. Everyone. On the one hand, that’s a blessing for those families who are struggling financially. On the other hand, I remember what school lunches were like when I was growing up. That’s why I usually brought my own lunch with me. More on that later.

When my children were in school, spring standardized tests were a big deal. So big that the schools served breakfast on test days. Brain food they called it. It consisted of honey buns and mini-donuts. Brain food?

The only days I didn’t bring my lunch to school was pizza day. I guess you could call it pizza. It was more like a piece of cardboard with some red sauce and melted cheese on top. When you’re in elementary school, there’s nothing better.

The rest of the time, all the way through high school, I brought my own lunch. In a brown paper bag. My mom wanted me to save the bag to use a second or third time, but I rarely did. Typically I had a sandwich made with white bread with Oscar Meyer bologna, sliced ham, or peanut butter and jelly. Every once in a while, a tuna sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil. I also had an apple, once in a while an orange. I bought milk or juice to drink. And that was it.

Unless the desert of the day was a peanut butter bar or a slice of cake wrapped in cellophane. If I had a little bit of money, I would get one of those. But those moments were few and far between.

I never envied the kids who bought their lunch at school. It was often hard to identify what the cafeteria served, even though the school published the menu each month. (That’s how we knew when there was pizza.) I doubt that our lunches were much more nutritious than Lunchables or whatever else is available today. We survived. I guess our grandkids will, too.

Posted in Life

The power of one: What can I possibly do about climate change?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Tobias Rademacher on Unsplash

Well, it sounds like we’re all doomed. The United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change released a report yesterday stating that climate disaster is inevitable unless nations take drastic measures right now to cut their carbon-emissions. Otherwise we can look forward to even hotter heat waves, food shortages, and more infectious diseases.

I would expect a report like this to generate all kinds of activity to do something, anything to stave off the earth’s demise. I read about it in the news. I hear about it on TV. But I personally don’t see many worried about this. The roads are filled with more semis, pickup trucks and SUVs than ever. Okay, I see a few more electric cars than I used to. But not enough to make much of a difference. I don’t see roofs covered with solar panels. The long line of cars dropping off and picking up students from schools means that most students aren’t taking the bus. Hardly any of the food I buy is grown locally. It’s all from far away places. Oil companies are still investing in fossil fuel production. Power plants are still burning coal.

Maybe I shouldn’t worry that much about it, either. I’m just one person on a planet with 7.9 billion people. What would or could I do to make a difference?

I know, that’s not a very good attitude. I know that my vote always counts in an election. I know that my acts of kindness have a ripple effect in the lives around me. My presence in the world does affect the lives of others. Plus, my faith includes taking care of the creation in which I live.

I would love to put solar panels on my roof. But there are too many trees on the lots around my house. Until those lots are sold and there’s less shade, I’m out of luck.

I’d buy an electric car. If I could afford one. And if I knew that the power to run one came from a clean energy source, which it probably doesn’t.

I could grow more of my own food at home. However, my gardens haven’t exactly produced bumper crops to date. Gardening in Florida has been challenging.

I could buy less stuff and have less delivered to my home. Or at least combine orders for fewer deliveries each week. Less stuff would also cut down on my trips to the thrift store when we get rid of everything we’re not using.

I could ride my bike more often. To the library, to the gym, and even for a few groceries. That’s the most doable idea I’ve come up with. Other than recycling, and I already recycle everything I can in our community.

So I guess I can choose to be powerless or recognize the power I have in this world.