F2: Friday's Feast, Soup or Treat

Some occasions just taste a certain way to me. Food is such a central element of celebration and, as I am sure is quite common, I often get flavors stuck in my head as representing certain holidays. Some of those flavors traditionally make sense. Others are a little less obvious. For years, Halloween has tasted to me like taco soup.

I can't recall when I first made Taco Soup as the pre-trick-or-treat meal, but I did it for years. It's warm, it's hearty, and it's a little spicy--all a nice prelude to a cold, sugar-laden evening. Then we moved up to a small mountain community where Halloween was celebrated in the middle of town, complete with parade, carnival, haunted house, and businesses passing out candy. Those years dinner was hot dogs and hamburgers prepared by the Lion's Club.

Now we're back in a regular neighborhood, more or less, and so we will be able to reinstate our soup tradition. If you'd like to join us, I'll make a double batch. Alternately, you can make your own pot of soup. Make it ahead, even. I see no reason why this couldn't sit in a crock pot all day on low. Serve it with some corn muffins and apple slices. At our house, we also have a bowl of toasted pumpkin seeds, courtesy of our jack-o-lanterns, sitting out to munch on. (Dessert graciously supplied by the neighbors.)

Taco Soup

• 1 lb. ground beef
• 1 chopped onion
• 1 pkg. taco seasoning
• 1-20 oz. can stewed tomatoes, undrained
• 2 c. water
• 1-8 oz. can tomato sauce
• 1 can corn, undrained
• 1 can kidney beans, undrained

Cook beef and onion together in soup pot. Drain fat. Mix in taco seasoning. Add remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 15 minutes.

Top each serving with:

• coarsely crushed tortilla chips
• sour cream
• grated cheddar cheese
• chopped avocado, if desired

Visit Ca-Joh for more Friday Feast Halloween Fare.

The Gift

Occasionally one receives a gift from an unlikely source or in an unexpected form.  Yesterday mine came as a fast-moving front, bringing with it earlier-than-predicted rainfall, and ill children.

This autumn has been crazy.  #2 and #4 are both in soccer.  We've had more in the sport at a time in the past, but this year their practices do not overlap.  Someone has soccer every night.  And of course Larry is coaching #2 again, so he is also committed to three 90-minute practices and one 70-minute game per week.  The evenings they are home, I am sitting at practice with #4, who I consider still too young to be dropped off.  Two Tuesdays per month #3 has Activity Day with the 9 year-old girls in our congregation.  Every Wednesday she has guitar lessons.  Wednesday nights #s 1 & 2 have Mutual, our church youth group activities.  One night a week I am supposed to be going on visits as a Ward Missionary.

I'm not listing all of this to earn awe or respect or pity.  Many families I know have crazier schedules than that.  I am listing it to simply complain.  For me, at this point in my life and marriage, I do not like it.  We have fewer family dinners.  Our Family Home Evening gets bumped around and sometimes missed entirely.  Family scripture study is suffering.  Errands requiring more than just myself all get crammed in around Saturday games.  With other stresses we are currently experiencing, I feel only further unsettled and disconnected at a time when I see that consistency and intimacy are just what we all need so desperately.

Yesterday morning my husband informed me that it was supposed to rain  that night.  (He is my sole weather source.)  But the precipitation began around 2:00.  About that time, I came home to a phone message from #3's Activity Day leader.  Sick kids, no activity.  I knew my girl would be disappointed, but I suddenly had an extra hour.  Email from #4s coach:  no practice.  Suddenly we had an entire afternoon and evening!

I've been meaning to get to a local pumpkin stand with Larry's truck for weeks.  They sell pumpkins, hay bales, and cornstalks on the cheap.  Since I had arranged to pick up #s 3 and 4 from school, I decided to take them to get our hay and cornstalks.  With my Suburban.  In the rain.  I think they thought I was nuts.  I loaded two bales into the back, and a cornstalk along three rows of passenger seats, put my cash in the drop box, and made good use of my side mirrors on the way home.  I was soaked and dirty and stinky and downright giddy.  The kids were excitedly chattering about the holidays and the weather.  I wondered aloud if the car would fit down our front walk, shortening the distance I had to carry this wet hay.  I decided not.  I informed the kids that we'd get some cocoa on arrival home, or at least after I'd gotten the hay out of the car because heaven knows I wasn't going to let it sit in there longer than necessary.  #4 replied, "Kevin knows we've got hay in our car?"

We drank our cocoa, arranged our hay, made spaghetti sauce, and had dinner all together.  I vacuumed out the Suburban and coated the back floor with Febreeze.  (The car smells fine now, but the garage still smells like horse manure.  The bales were out of the car before I ever parked it in the garage.  Go figure.)  We listened to the Family Home Evening lesson that #4 had had ready for a week and a half.  We drove to the Boy Scout pumpkin stand and bought pumpkins for carving and some to last through Thanksgiving.  #1 and I even had time to help Larry with some work he's been behind on.  It was a great night.

Today my back is sore, and two of my kids are sick.  So back to the grind.  I guess if every day was such a gift, we wouldn't appreciate them.  And I am still smiling.  

Happy Halloween

This post could have been named, "A display of my mediocre photography and inability to successfully integrate text and images."  But I guess these photos can speak for themselves.  

(Gotta love Halloween Peeps!)

My Vain Little Secret

It may not be a big deal to some--but to me, November 1st brings a small amount of relief. I mean, #2's birthday is JUST around the corner, not to mention Thanksgiving, #4's birthday and Christmas. But at least Halloween is over.

Do I hate Halloween? Of course not. But every year it's a major stress. And the worst part is that the stress is entirely self-inflicted. I could avoid it all. But I don't. Because I am vain. And because I procrastinate.

When I was little, store bought costumes were very plastic-y and not very cute. Fabric and patterns were also much cheaper than they are now. As a result, every year my seamstress-mother made our costumes and they were fabulous. My brother and I won contests. We still have many of these in our family's possession. So when I grew up I figured a costume was just somehow not valid unless it was hand-made. And for several years, homemade costumes were all my girls had. I would look at kids with store-bought costumes, some of them very nice, some exquisite, and I would think, "yes, but your mother didn't MAKE it."

Along the way now there have been costumes that I purchased for the kids. And each time two things happen. I feel like an inadequate mother, and I find myself trying to apologize or explain why my child would be wearing one.

It is barely short of hellish to sew four costumes. I go crazy. I stay up too late many nights in a row. My back goes out. I get angry at myself (and other family members silly enough to come near me). I heatedly vow that "Next year I am buying them ALL, and I could buy them all at DISNEYLAND for what it costs me to make them!"

Enter vanity. All of that frustration seems to melt away on Halloween night. "Why yes, I did make the costumes." "Why thank you, I was really happy with how they turned out myself." "Yes, my mother taught me to sew." "I does take a long time, but I think it's worth it." I look around at my four beautiful kids with their four beautiful, handmade costumes, and I feel that again, I have arrived. I am mother, hear me sew. And by the next fall, much like childbirth, the pains of pinning and cutting and sewing and gathering and surging have all faded into something not so bad, certainly something worth the outcome. So early September we choose costumes, and buy patterns and fabrics, and are all ready to go.

Enter procrastination. I have a hard time getting anything done without a deadline fast approaching. This should have been easier to avoid this year--I only had one pioneer costume to make, only one costume that I would not feel the need to apologize for. But I factored this in to my timetable and was finishing the pinafore about 30 minutes before leaving for our first Halloween party of the season.

I honestly cannot say which I'd prefer: a sane pre-Halloween October, or bragging rights on the 31st. If I really think about it though, my record must show my preference. Next fall I'll have to go up to the attic, pull out the costume trunk, and make a tally. My money is on vanity.