I'd been wondering about that saying!
from Wikipedia: "Quince juice from organic farming is available in Germany (where quince is called "quitte") and its pleasant taste mixes well with other fruit juices. This is where the saying 'A quince for you, a quince for me, quinces we shall eat,' comes from."
New wondertime post here.
Also, remember those Thanksgiving recipes I was steaming over in July? They're here too. And if you think I'm making it all again now, for the actual real holiday, well, quinces we shall eat, if you know what I'm saying.
OY! Your post tugged at my heart.
ReplyDeleteLet there not be a last time . . .
That was simply beautiful, Catherine. With my son now away at college his first semester, oh how I have thought about how sad all those "last times" were....I can recall the last chapter book we read as he snuggled in bed (Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh)and how I'd kiss him goodnight. Where did it go? Happy Thanksgiving.
ReplyDeleteTina
I haven't read your new post yet (not ready & I'm at work) but I read all your Thanksgiving recipes in my magazine last night and laughed and laughed thinking about you in a frenzy months ago with all this stuff.
ReplyDeleteChipotle and bacon in the sweet potatoes, indeed! New tradition in our house! We'll toast to you.
Oh, Catherine. I've missed your columns, and how aptly you describe this mommy 'thing'. Most of all, I missed how you remind us that it is okay to love your kids! Who knew! I'm so, so happy I found this!
ReplyDeleteThat was a beautiful Wondertime column. I have realized many last times in recent months and one breaks your heart a little.
ReplyDeleteI look at Papoosie Girl almost seven and wonder where this huge kid came from, almost like she is a stranger sometimes.
Lovely.
Happy Thanksgiving!
The heart of your writing is really about being mindful and thankful, so a hearty Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.
ReplyDeleteRegarding the recipes, I didn't notice your byline (thus unbiased), and I was so excited with that article! I hate that every holiday we end up eating the same meal for four days. I appreciate you slaving over it for us, I'm looking forward to trying them.
I actually knew when it was the last time I nursed The Baby because I had to start some horrifying medication immidiately afterwards. It was BEYOND poignant. I think it's best that most last times go unnoticed.
ReplyDeleteyou lost me at quince...
ReplyDeleteI cannot wait to try that muffin recipe!
ReplyDeleteHow strange. Today my son (who will be three this weekend) wanted me to pick him up and carry him upstairs to bed. I was thinking some of the exact things you wrote about. Then I had a memory of someone writing or talking about having to carry her child up the stairs at night. I was wondering if it was you. I somehow thought I was wrong because I could not imagine your house having stairs. Why? I don't know. But it was you (I think). Or at least it could have been, since you do in fact have stairs.
ReplyDeleteI'm trying SO hard to keep some of these thoughts while my children are still so young. But just tonight, I did the same thing. I said, "I'll check on you two in a couple of minutes." And what did I do that was more important? Well, I guess I came downstairs to read your writing. Which, by the way, is as wonderful as always. But my point is that I chose to spend my time reading something written by someone who has many of the same thoughts as I do (but who can express them so much better). Was that the good choice?
I never heard the "I one the sandbox" game. For us, it was "there's an old dead skunk in the middle of the road, I one it...." with jibes for several numbers on the way up to "I eight it." The game never really made sense to me. What the hell does it mean to "three" something? I'm guessing it has something to do with quinces, but I'm not sure... ;-) Anyway, if anyone out there hasn't listened to Catherine read "I won the sandbox eight," please do. It's just touching. Thanks, Catherine. You're too cool for words.
ReplyDeleteEEEEEEEEK! My emoticon got dismembered!!! :-(
ReplyDeleteThe post on Wondertime was gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteI have an 8yo, 6yo and a 15 mo, and I feel as if I'm so hyper-aware of time ticking by when I'm with the baby.
I'm still an appendage to him, not separate.
And I look at my 8yo who is beginning to live in worlds I don't even have a map to...or at the very most, a very dust map.
And you've just inspired me to search out a turntable.
Thank you, Catherine, for making me think about this. I love your columns for this very reason.
ReplyDeleteI became ill when my daughter was six-months-old, and had to stop nursing due to my medication. Sadly, I did not get the chance to cherish the last time. To this day (and, I can't help but think forever more) I will be sad about that. And (as I wrote in my journal shortly after her birth, when everything was different and we hadn't yet adjusted to the magical "new normal" of having a newborn around) even though I was totally done with the whole pregnancy thing toward the very end (as I'm sure most women are), if I'd known it was going to all end when it did, I might have sat down with my enormous belly and really, truly, deeply appreciated the fullness of my life, right there inside me.
Perhaps Beck is right about (some) last times going best unnoticed. I'd be a weeping pile of mush sloshing around if I ceremoniously said goodbye to every one!
Have you read "Let Me Hold You Longer" by Karen Kingsbury? It perfectly captures the spirit of your Wondertime article. I dare you to get through it without sobbing your eyes out!
ReplyDeleteI have to ask- did you make the tinfoil turkey?
ReplyDeleteI hear quinces are good for constipation.
ReplyDeleteThis week has been so crazy, and it's only going to get crazier. But reading your Halloween-finger-leaf-blower-angry-poet hurricane and seeing that you lived to tell the tale has just made me feel incredibly calm.
ReplyDeleteAt least for this one second.
Thanks for that. Really.
Just read your newest Wondertime post - Oh man, I have to turn the car radio off when I'm trying to find a location I'm unfamiliar with! If I had to deal with leaf blowers and pretzel fingers and phone calls and upset poets - I'd low a gasket.
ReplyDeleteI'd Blow a gasket. Blow.
ReplyDeletebeautifully, beautifully put. and oh so clever (the serene poet who has others running around frantic!!).
ReplyDeleteyour children are oh so lucky to have you as their mother.
You are in the closet in underwear, frantically trying to pull off a job, and you manage to enthusiastically suggest that the poppy seeds could be freckles on the skeleton fingers. I love it! And your kids are not feeling your stress, which is truly amazing. I will keep you in mind (in closet and undies) the next time I let my work-life stress spill over into my kids' lives.
ReplyDeleteCatherine, did you move without telling us? Last I knew you lived in a log cabin and Michael wouldn't clean the gutters. From what you just wrote at wondertime, it sounds like the "condo" people were up on the roof cleaning out the gutters? If you did move, congrats! I know it doesn't matter, but I'm just curious. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteSo glad that I live in this age, where I can conjure your writing by turning on my computer and there you are, thinking my thoughts and putting them into much better order than I can. I blogged about this very thing, only not nearly as eloquently just a little over a week ago. My boy just turned seven, and the changes from little kid to big kid are breathtaking - as in taking my breath away. I see him maneauver in the world without me and want so much to slow it all down. Except for the socks - which is our daily battle. Thank you for reminding me that I'll miss even that someday. Hugs to Ben, Birdy and Michael, and one big one, of course for yourself.
ReplyDeleteWe made the turkey nachos last night. And tonight? Well, I think I'll break out the barbeque sauce. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteCatherine,
ReplyDeleteCan I call you Catherine? Suddenly I feel so forward...
I wanted to thank you for the latest Wondertime column on milestones (and fake vomit). My dear, sweet, marvelous, amazing son is also autistic, and his milestones are so wonderful...but often left out of "what to expect" type books.
I have a feeling if I told you, "He looked at me and said mama and tried to feed me some of his pizza! And then when I didn't open my mouth, he opened his to show me how!" you'd understand why it filled me with quivering joy.
So thank you.
- Erika (you can call me Erika)
I tried your recipe for turkey broth and my husband says it's the best I've ever made. Just wanted to let you know. :)
ReplyDeleteI also made your recipe for turkey broth and even my in-laws liked it! I have to say that my MIL was extremely impressed I made it while doing the dishes, right after dinner ;)
ReplyDeleteAlso, about last times, my baby just turnes 1 a few days ago. She's my fourth, and I'm 100% positive she's my last. The night before her birthday was such a bittersweet moment...the last night I would have a baby. The next day she would be a toddler. She still feels like a baby to me, for crying out-loud, she's still a baby! But, KWIM? Yes, some moments of parethood need to be enjoyed to the last!
what does KWIM mean?
ReplyDeleteKWIM means, Know what I mean?
ReplyDeleteSimple sayings can make us think a lot or is it just we women prefer to think a lot on analyzing what a simple phrase means and deciphering what the hidden meaning is?
ReplyDelete