A Flapper Weds - Phyllis and Larry

     Phyllis Eleanor Phillips married her sweetheart, Lawrence Laverne Voorhies in Grand Rapids, Michigan in the mid-1920s. She was the beloved daughter of an immigrant English shoemaker and a second generation Irishwoman and was the youngest of five children, two of whom died in infancy. Lawrence was the son of an immigrant Belgian buggy maker-turned-farmer and his Flemish wife; he was the middle child of five. The beautiful bride looks demure in her wedding photo but was probably quite the feisty independent, as flappers had come to be in that era. She was also very fashionable in her tea-length gown of soft wavering fabric, distinctive headpiece with long veil, pointy low-heeled Mary Janes, and a huge round bouquet (all of which are similar to the vintage magazine cover below). The tall handsome groom leans close to his bride and gazes at her with adoration - he is dapper in his dark suit, bow tie, and polished shoes. However by the time a family portrait is organized outside in the sunshine, Lawrence's smile has faded into a grimace. Was he anxious for the festivities to be over? Or was he just tired of posing?

     The marriage lasted less than a decade and produced one child, my mother, Leah Joan. Lawrence, a baker by profession, suffered from alcoholism and died alone in Chicago in1942 - a sad ending for a story that had such a lovely beginning...

     

     Left to right: Juliana & Peter Voorhies (groom's parents), Jane Stoffer (bride's niece), Lawrence, Phyllis, unknown woman, Wendell David Phillips (bride's brother), Nellie and Alfred Phillips (bride's parents), Florence (bride's sister) and Fred Stoffer, Marie Stoffer (Fred's sister), Fred and Florence's sons - Robert and Alfred Stoffer

Italian Rice Balls

     I had never made, or even heard of Italian Rice Balls before the hubs saw a tv chef singing their praises. I looked up the chef's recipe and wasted no time trying my hand at the Arancini (if we're cooking Italian it is only correct to use the vernacular, right?) Besides, it looked quite simple: balls of cooked rice, cheese, eggs, and garlic coated with breadcrumbs and fried, then smothered with marinara sauce. Supposedly served as a side dish, we had them as our main course and they were plenty filling, with a little garlic toast to mop up the sauce. Because the Arancini are somewhat bland, I think the appeal lies in the crispy coating and the additional necessity of using a very tasty marinara (I use a simple recipe given to me by a second-generation Sicilian father-in-law when I was a very young and very thankful newlywed!)

Where's the Peck of Pickled Peppers?

     The old nursery rhyme about Peter Piper came to mind yesterday as we picked basketfuls of several kinds of peppers - probably because we have never had such a bountiful harvest. The freezer already held bags of whole peppers for use in cooking, and the pantry shelf boasted jars of Raspberry Jalapeno Jam and Hot Pepper Peach Jam, so after some deliberation, I decided to try my hand at pickling peppers. The contrasting colors of sliced jalapenos, chili peppers and banana peppers were beautiful, and the familiar pickling aroma of vinegar was tempered with a sharp peppery scent. The verdict on taste will not be disclosed until a later date when one of the jars is opened - we have our fingers crossed.

Tiny Tomatoes

     Our small garden is producing a boatload of veggies right now and we savor immensely the almost-daily harvests. When a thunderstorm is forecast, it is prudent to pick every ripe Sweet Million tomato or risk loosing them to high wind / heavy rain. So yesterday a large bowl of halved tomatoes was marinated in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, with a sprinkling of fresh basil added for additional flavor. We eat these as a simple side salad, or add them to chopped vegetables or greens during the week. It is amusing to see how the size of this variety shrinks with the ebb of summer.

A Mother's Ring

     My mother wore this beloved ring for more than three decades. A gift from her oldest son, who was working in a jewelry store at the time, it contains seven stones in a simple setting. The actual beauty of the ring lies in its significance (the birthstones of Mom's seven children who were her pride and joy) and in the arrangement  - four of the seven were born in January so garnets bracket the ends of each row, making the design seem planned.

     Mom passed away last year and her last and ultimate gift was to donate her body to medical science. Brother asked for the ring so after it was removed, I cleaned and readied it to send to him. I paused before packaging it, however, with a thought to photograph it for my own indulgence, and am so thankful now that I have a keepsake image of that treasured heirloom. It is still peculiar and slightly unnerving to see the ring apart from Mom's hand.

The Mansion and the Window

   We called it "The Mansion" - a big rambling house, c. 1900, that belonged to the prosperous owner of a dairy farm and company. In the late 1990's, when my sister rented a caretaker's cottage on the property, the mansion had not been lived in for some time and had fallen into sad disrepair. Raccoons and other scurrying varmints occupied the basement where a couple of bowling lanes were rumored to have been - we never ventured into the dank darkness to discover the truth. We did, however investigate the rest of the home, even up into what we speculated were small servant's bedrooms under the eaves in the second story. Beautiful woodwork abounded in all of the large rooms, stained glass, multiple french doors and a huge stone fireplace adorned one room that spanned the back of the house and a long narrow conservatory decorated with Italian tiles flanked the south wall. These details indicated the taste and refinement of the original owner and it was heartbreaking to see the rotting shambles it had become. In 2014, when the mansion was demolished for an upscale housing development, thieves had already purloined any architectural details that were worth recycling. However, in a trash heap destined for a dumpster, I salvaged a couple of window frames - weathered, glassless and covered with charming chippy paint (which was probably not lead-free!).

     After removing hooks and eyes, and a slight sanding to remove flaking pieces, I painted this frame with coat of varnish to contain any further paint chips from falling onto the floor and into pet territory. It perfectly frames a favorite canvas portrait of my beloved grandchildren (who are much more grown up now!) I am pleased that I have a reminder of the mansion and of life in another era.