Favorite Blueberry Recipes

I always seem to get an intense craving for blueberries mid-winter----well, not just plain blueberries, although they are delicious all by themselves----I'm talking about a warm, comforting blueberry bit of goodness. When the craving hits, only a tasty muffin (or two) or short-stack of blueberry pancakes smothered in warm maple syrup will suffice. Unfortunately, berry season is long gone, so I keep a bag of blueberries in the freezer just for this purpose (and for the occassional blueberry smoothie).

I've searched high and low for the best recipes and I've finally found them. These muffins and pancakes turn out beautifully every time and the taste is......well, the best! Enjoy!

**NOTE: If using frozen berries in either recipe, let them sit at room temperature for 20 minutes

Blueberry Muffins

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 egg

1/3 cup milk

1 cup FRESH blueberries

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 deg. C). Grease muffin cups or use cooking spray---do not use liners.

Combine flour, sugar , salt and baking powder. Place vegetable oil in in a one-cup measure, add egg and enough of the milk to fill the cup. Mix this into the flour mixture. Fold in blueberries. Fill muffin cups right to the top.

Bake 20-25 minutes.

Blueberry Pancakes

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 cup sugar

2 1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 large eggs, at room temperature

2 cups buttermilk

1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted

1 cup FRESH blueberries

In a large bowl sift together all dry ingredients. Allow melted butter to cool and in another bowl, beat together eggs and buttermilk. Whisk in cooled butter.

Mix wet ingredients into the dry ingredients. Combine until you have a lumpy batter. Do not over-mix. Gently fold in blueberries.

Heat pan or griddle to medium heat. Add cooking spray to pan. Use about 1/4 cup batter per pancake. Cook until golden on each side.

For the Love of Family

From early infancy, I was raised by my maternal grandparents, Scotty and Kay. They were both products of the Depression so they were resourceful, frugal, and old-fashioned. I had a quiet, happy childhood, though there was rarely money to spare. From them, I learned the importance of budgeting, making-do, and thrift. Waste not, want not were words to live by. But, more importantly than the practical aspects of life, I learned the importance of family.

Kay & Scotty Dean

When I was a little girl in the late 1960s and early 70s, family vacations were the highlight of the year. My grandparents would save a little each month to be able to make those trips every summer. So, each June, just after school got out, I would get to travel all over California, Oregon and Washington, visiting family and friends along the way and visiting every historic landmark my granddad could find. We camped in the shadow of Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Ranier, attended a clambake and went oystering with my Uncle Ken on Puget Sound, stood in awe of the beautiful Crater Lake, viewed Seattle from the top of the Space Needle, walked through some of the old Spanish missions in California, traveled on Highway 12 in the Valley of the Moon and spelunked through the Shasta Caverns. Glorious fun!

Little Me

Some of my very favorite childhood memories center around the times we spent with family in the San Joaquin Valley, which is part of the Central Valley of California. That was where my grandfather's family lived------practically the whole huge clan. Sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews.

My favorite spot was Uncle Harold and Aunt Billie's farm in Atwater. The property was very near former Castle Air Force Base and was edged with sweet-smelling eucalyptus trees. Because of the proximity to the air base, the huge jets would fly directly over the rooftop of the house as they came in for a landing. Needless to say, to a small child this was so terrifying to me. The powerful roar, the wind---if I was anywhere outside I would run to the nearest parked car and throw myself underneath, hands over ears, tears streaming down my face. As I got older, the fly-overs became a thrilling part of our visits, as my fears finally abated and I pretended I was the pilot flying those immense fortresses.

During the day, all of us children would walk to the canal, which was just a short trek down the country lane, to go swimming. We'd stop to pick the long grasses that grew beside the road and reach our hands through the fences to feed the neighbors cows. Our folks never worried about us because the older children always looked out for the younger ones-----that was just the way it was. After several hours of swimming and splashing, we'd tromp back to the big, sprawling house, tired, but happy. The grown-ups would have sandwiches and watermelon waiting for us on a big table in the yard and we'd eat until we could eat no more, washing it all down with tart lemonade. We would then spend the rest of the afternoon playing together or helping with chores, maybe riding the tractor or feeding the goats or chasing the chickens or climbing trees. Every now and again, just before dinner, the youngest children would be summoned over the fence of Grandaunt Billie's nearest neighbor for a tall glass of milk, still warm from the cow----what a treat that was!

My great grandparents, Lillian and Buford Dean (on the right) and my great-grandaunt and great-granduncle

After dinner, when everything was cleaned up and put away, all the kids would gather around, sitting with whoever had an empty lap. My granddad and grandma and all the granduncles and grandaunts would take turns telling stories well into the night-----tales from their own childhood, from the Depression and World War II, stories about the Dean Family. I learned about their parents, my great grandparents, who were long dead before I was ever born. I listened to battlefield stories that my Granduncle Howard would share, only after he'd had a few beers. Uncle Howard fought in the Battle of Iwo Jima during WWII, just a young man at the time. Because of injuries received during childhood, my grandfather couldn't fight in the war, but he instead worked at the Naval Shipyard at Mare Island in Vallejo. The shipyard built ships and submarines for the war effort and repaired damaged battleships, as well. My grandma told about growing up in a Catholic boarding school in Washington and the horrific shortage of pantyhose during the war. Grandaunt Billie always had a funny story to tell about the difficulties of raising 12 children.

Naval Shipyard at Mare Island

Those nights spent on the porch at the Botwright farm were so memorable, I can sometimes smell the eucalyptus and the fresh-mown hay and see, if only in my mind's eye, all of us children splashing in the canal. That was where I learned to love family traditions and where I decided that being a wife and mother was an honorable career choice. I will tell you that, after hearing all those stories and making numerous trips to the air base museum, I also entertained the notion of being an Air Force pilot, but, well, two out of three ain't bad!!

My grandparents are both gone now. Granddad passed away over 20 years ago and Grandma in 2006. Most of the uncles and aunts are gone, as well. The cousins are scattered all over the country and I only keep in touch with a few of them now. Several of them passed away at a young age. I miss the closeness that we all shared during those times so long ago. I miss the lazy days of summer spent with extended family, when all seemed right with the world.

My children had the great fortune of living near their paternal grandparents for a large portion of their life, along with several aunts, uncles and the cousins. They developed a keen sense of the importance that family plays in our lives as we grow and change and learn. They have developed their very own childhood memories that are stored in the deepest places of their hearts, waiting to be shared with their children one day.

My Family~~~2009

I look forward to the day when I can gather my grandchildren on the porch, grandchildren who are now just a far off thought, and pass on the stories of my childhood to their listening ears.

Do you have any lovely memories from childhood that you just haven't found time to pass on to your children or grandchildren? I encourage you to make the time~~~you'll never regret that you did.

"The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together."~~~Erma Bombeck

Helping Haiti

There has been such a flood of love and concern for the people of Haiti. Every blog I read has at least one post about all the avenues available in which we can help. I suppose I haven't posted anything simply because I don't know what to say.


People are hurting. People are suffering. What more is there to say.......


We all have our own special projects and organizatons that we financially support for one reason or other. Some are political in nature, some are religious. But when a disaster of such magnitude strikes, in the long run, I don't think it matters where the support comes from, as long as it does come, and quickly.


So, give a few dollars, offer up a heartfelt prayer, light a candle. Nothing that you do is too little. Do what you can, in whatever way you feel led, to lighten the load.

The following organizations are on the 'frontlines' in Haiti. They are neither political nor religious in nature-----they have no ulterior motives and nothing to gain through the aid they offer. I believe in their mission.



Doctors Without Borders

http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/



Partners In Health (Stand With Haiti)

http://www.standwithhaiti.org/haiti



International Red Cross

http://www.icrc.org/eng

"I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do." ~~~Edward Everett Hale

Homeschooling For Life

Homeschooling.......what an amazing adventure. It means so many things to so many people. For me, it is about real parents learning side-by-side with real kids about real issues that will help to create, for all involved, a real life.

I've been a part of the homeschool movement for nearly 15 years now. I started this journey in early 1994, just as my oldest son, Ryan, was turning 5 and the thought of sending him away to school left a bad taste in my mouth. Why would I have a child, raise him until he was 'school age' and then turn him over to someone else for the next 12 years? I was selfish. I actually wanted to raise my own son. What an novel idea!

After homeschooling for more than 10 years, our family, which now included 3 sons, moved back to northern California and our financial situation required that I began working outside the home. During this two year period, all three of my boys attended public school. Those two years seemed like an eternity, but I was finally able to return home and, once again, we picked up our homeschool adventure where we'd left off----and we discovered a popular choice for homeschoolers in California----charter schools. This option seemed to be the best of both worlds for my two older sons.

While charter schools are public schools and use traditional textbooks and/or online classes, they offer the unique opportunity to complete the required work at home under the supervision of an assigned independent study teacher, with all work being facilitated by an involved parent. My oldest son, Ryan, graduated from a local charter school in 2007 and my 17 year old, Matthew, will graduate from the same school this year. This approach, while attached to the public school system is, in my humble opinion, a legitimate way to achieve homeschool success, if you so choose. Because Matthew is at home, we are able to discuss things right then and there. We often, very often, 'chase rabbits' when it comes to discussions simply because there is so much to say about one subject and that subject is nearly always linked to another, and so on. We are a family interested in the facts, but also in knowing the more personal side to various issues, which demands involvement and conversation. The charter school option also allows plenty of time for children to explore their own creativity and the world around them----Matthew writes, reads, bikes, plays guitar, and spends time with family and friends. Some 'hardliners' refuse to accept charter schools as a 'real' homeschool option but it has worked well for us. Charter schools may not work for everyone and, I must say, that were it not for the fact that we are linked with a teacher who gives us a huge amount of freedom, I would not be willing to consider this option.

Alex at Trinidad Beach

Now, having said all that, my youngest son, Alex, who is 11, is independently homeschooled. We did, in fact, try the charter school situation with Alex the first year I homeschooled him. For a young child, I felt it was just too rigid with too many requirements. And, all the work he was doing demanded my complete involvement. So I was, in fact, homeschooling on my own anyway----I just had to turn in all the work to prove it. So, for Alex, we have embraced the world of 'unschooling'. I almost hestitate to use that term simply because it means different things to different people. I guess you could say we 'unschool' in a more structured, yet eclectic, way as compared to the most commonly accepted definition of the term.

Unschooling, for us, doesn't mean that we will never use a textbook or workbook (I will say that when and if these are used it is primarily for reference) or that we don't follow any course of study. With Alex, we maintain a loose schedule that allows for field trips, plenty of time to read about whatever we are studying at the moment and an adundance of free time for Alex to enjoy what interests him. We spend a great deal of time talking about various issues----at present we are focused on the subject of slavery because we are studying American history and have finally arrived at the 1860s and the Civil War. We are watching the Roots televison series on DVD and reading a whole range of books about the people of that era and the thoughts and ideas that were born out of such great pain----that rose from the ashes of the incredible atrocity that is slavery. We use a practical approach for mathematics and we use two amazing books for English Study: English From the Roots Up and Intermediate Language Lessons. Our 'study time' is accomplished in the morning and early afternoon which leaves ample time for Alex to use the computer, read, play, draw, daydream.......all the things that an 11 year old should be doing.

Daydreaming at the Trees of Mystery Sky Lift Overlook

Because there are as many definitions of what unschooling is (or isn't) as there are unschoolers, there is no one way of doing things. What worked yesterday may not work today, but then it may work again tomorrow. As I see it, unschooling is never an excuse not to do work, it is more about the way in which we approach that work and then having the flexibility and confidence to make changes when necessary. Children are not empty vessels to be filled up. They are already filled with an innate sense of the world around them and our job as parents/teachers is to help them discover, or perhaps uncover, what they already know about it, while gently guiding them to learn what they don't.

Blackberry Picking in Blue Lake

Although the 18th century English educator, Charlotte Mason, was not an unschooler, per se, she masterfully taught children using the very principles that the unschooling movement embraces. I rely heavily on her written works, ideas and guidelines in teaching Alex. Why? Because, at least for Alex, they work. Ms. Mason was a proponent of 'the gentle art of learning'. She believed that children should be given the tools for learning and then allowed to become participants in their own educational journey, rather than just spectators as is most often the case in the public school system. Those tools included limited study time, daily access to the outdoors, nature walks, keeping nature journals, the availability of good literature ( real or living books), and, among other things, plenty of time to dream.

The world of education, before it became a government mandate full of rules and regulations, was a specialized vehicle for life. Many parents taught their children at home as the natural course of things. A person learned what he needed to know in order to make a life for himself. Education was practical, personal, and meaningful, as it should be. We should all have the opportunity to learn about what interests us----what excites us----realizing that no two people learn exactly the same way.

My journey as a homeschool parent is my own. My children's homeschooling journey belongs to them. I have played, and continue to play, a part in it, but what they've learned, what they have come away with, belongs solely to them. I love what homeschooling pioneer, John Holt, said on the matter, "What makes people smart, curious, alert, observant, competent, confident, resourceful, persistent - in the broadest and best sense, intelligent- is not having access to more and more learning places, resources, and specialists, but being able in their lives to do a wide variety of interesting things that matter, things that challenge their ingenuity, skill, and judgment, and that make an obvious difference in their lives and the lives of people around them."

I hope you will tell me about your own homeschooling journey---what works for you, what is it that you find exciting about being a home-educating parent, your learning philosophy. Share, share, share!

Charlotte Mason sites you might find useful:

http://www.amblesideonline.org/WhatIsCM.shtml

http://charlottemasoneducation.com/

Unschooling sites you might find useful:

http://www.naturalchild.org/guest/earl_stevens.html

http://www.holtgws.com/index.html

"Leaders are not, as we are often led to think, people who go along with huge crowds following them. Leaders are people who go their own way without caring, or even looking to see, whether anyone is following them. "Leadership qualities" are not the qualities that enable people to attract followers, but those that enable them to do without them. They include, at the very least, courage, endurance, patience, humor, flexibility, resourcefulness, stubbornness, a keen sense of reality, and the ability to keep a cool and clear head, even when things are going badly. True leaders, in short, do not make people into followers, but into other leaders. " ~~~John Holt

Stand Up and Be Counted

I have been attending the little church of my childhood for just about a year now. It is the church I was raised in and feel most comfortable in, even now as an adult. Many of the faces are new to me, but some are the familiar and kind faces I remember from so long ago-----the same folks, just older!

I have chosen, up to this point, not to be a "member". I don't personally feel that membership will make me a better person or cause me to participate on a deeper level and, quite frankly, having had some of the experiences I've had at others churches over the years, I don't feel particularly compelled to put my name on the roll of any organization, church or otherwise.

I suppose a favorite part of attendance for me is the early morning discussion in what is commonly referred to as "Sunday School". I've never really liked that term, but it is what it is. This morning I was reminded just how much my thoughts and attitudes about myself have changed in the last 20+ years. I used to be the kind of woman that kept her opinions to herself, especially the ones that might seem a little controversial or not in keeping with commonly accepted Christian thought. Needless to say, I'm not that woman any longer.

I must say that I do try to be kind when offering a different opinion, but I find I can no longer sit quiet when someone uses, or rather, twists Scripture to "support" their point. I was made aware of that fact this morning as I listened to a particular person quote Bible passages to try to support their stance on war. I am more sensitive to that subject than most, perhaps, because I have a son in the United States Army who has seen the devastation of war firsthand in Iraq. All that he saw, did, and heard will forever be a part of who he is. Naturally, this makes me loathe to say that war is an acceptable means of dealing with our differences with other nations. It is my opinion that war should only ever be a far out there possibility when ALL OTHER MEANS HAVE BEEN UTTERLY AND COMPLETELY EXHAUSTED!!! It should never be entered into lightly and it should never be seen as a panacea for the world's problems. War almost always creates a whole new set of problems and I truly believe the words of a bumper sticker I recently saw (I'm a big bumper sticker fan), "War doesn't determine who's right, only who's left.".

Getting back to my original train of thought-----should we be the kind of person who sits back and allows others to take the lead, even when their leading is based on false thought? There was once a time when I would have said, "Well, as long as it doesn't hurt me." I think it is always appropriate to share our thoughts and opinions when we are discussing spiritual truths. This is, in part, how we are able to form what we think and believe about various ideas. Sometimes I'm not entirely sure what I believe about something, but I sure know what I don't believe. It can often be through this not knowing that I arrive at a place of knowing. Does that make sense? And not speaking up actually does hurt us----in a big way. Being silent in the midst of wrong, even wrong thinking, turns us into people who are complacent. It turns us into people who become comfortable with looking the other way, with doing nothing. It is, I will say, the easier way, at least for a time. But suddenly, we may find ourselves on the receiving end of the fear and hatred that false thinking breeds. Then we find, ironically, it is very much about us.

Challenging wrong thought patterns and battling the injustices that follow close behind them, especially when they are being proclaimed in a religious setting as the 'will of God', and though we may often stand alone, should be as natural to us as breathing. We should read and study and reflect and then, we should think for ourselves, even when the thoughts we are thinking are different from everyone else's in the room. As Friedrich Nietzsche said, "The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself."

So I guess what I'm trying to say is this: I will never again be a person who sits silently when I know something is wrong, either in word or deed. I will not be silenced by fear or embarrassment or inconvenience. I will try to be kind, benevolent, and loving in my speech, but not apolegetic. I will be me.

"New opinions are always suspected, and usually opposed, without any other reason but because they are not already common."~~~John Locke

Let Freedom Ring

On Monday, Americans will celebrate the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It is not only a day of recognition for one particular man, but a day to remember and uplift the ideals for which he stood and, ultimately, for which he died. These are the ideals which should be important to every man and woman in this country: equality, freedom, justice, perseverance, loving our fellow man. Martin Luther King had a dream----for so many at the time, it may have seemed impossible to imagine real freedom. But, they went after it anyway. They kept on marching and protesting and speaking out and signing petitions. They kept on dreaming. And when those who 'fight the good fight' are all dreaming the same dream, amazing things can happen.

I HAVE A DREAM
August 28, 1963

"I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt.

We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now.

This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." Martin Luther King, Jr.

Quilts Galore!

Although I love the finished product that quilting produces, I have never been particularly interested in learning to quilt myself. I am not a very coordinated person by nature and I think quilting, for me, would be a frustrating experience, to say the least.

My first taste of lovely quilts was from the handiwork of a man named Tom Lacy. I got to know Tom in the late 1980s when I was staying with my soon-to-be in-laws. Mr. Lacy was, well, he was an interesting character. He passed away during the ice storms in Kentucky last year, but he left behind an amazing legacy-----beautiful, handsewn quilts! I suppose it is a bit odd for a man to enjoy quilting, but Tom was a unique individual. He cooked, baked, sewed, and quilted throughout his entire life, well up into his 80s; and all very well, indeed. My mother-in-law was the recipient of several of his handmade quilts and I know she felt very lucky to have them, each one made just for her.

After living in eastern Kentucky for nearly 15 years and vacationing in the nearby Smoky Mountains more times than I can count, I can tell you that I have been privileged to see some gorgeous handmade quilts made by local artisans. Some were very intricate, with wild designs and bright colors, defnitely made to look at and not use. Others were very simple, almost primitive, and obviously made to be functional. It was, of course, this very quality that made them so stunning.

"Sunny Girls" by Pat Durbin

A friend of mine, Pat Durbin, is also a quilter-----a quilter extraordinaire! She creates lovely pieces of art with fabric and thread in ways that truly astound. Pat has won numerous awards on local, state, national and even international levels and she has also written several books detailing her very unique method for making "picture quilts". Her work is absolutely inspiring! Please check out her website:

http://patdurbin.com/

"Among Giants" by Pat Durbin

"The world is but a canvas to the imagination" ~~~Henry David Thoreau