Grandma's Attic

BAKLAVA RECIPE

This will be one of your favorite recipes ever. Inexpensive to make

and SO good! Here is the 2nd half of the recipe
(how did this get in here?)

Phyllo Dough is really easy to use, but you have to move quick
or it can dry out. So have all the ingredients ready
ahead of time. If you have to leave, cover with damp towel




I use a 9x13 pan, and fold the leaves of dough over in half

I use two sheets at a time, goes quicker, with butter on each half
I don't use quite as many nuts as it calls for


After all the layers are made, cut into triangles with a SHARP knife.

This is a bit tricky so don't rush it.



After taking it out of the oven, slice through all the lines again

Then pour the hot syrup over the top

especially along the slits

Cool in fridge

Yummy!

Sometimes the bottom layer sticks to the pan, so use a

good spatula to pick up the whole piece.




RECIPE



Filling

4 cups finely chopped walnuts

1/2 cup sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

*********

1 package Phyllo dough (in freezer case)

thawed

1 1/4 cups melted butter

**********

SYRUP

1 1/2 cups sugar

1/4 cup honey

2 tbsp. lemon juice (if you have any)

a few shakes of cinnamon

1 cup water



Bring the syrup to a boil, turn low and simmer while baklava bakes



Layer phyllo sheets into 9x13 pan brushing layers with butter, and about every

3 layers, sprinkle on chopped nuts.



Bake in 325 degree oven for 45-50 minutes

Slightly cool, then pour over syrup

ENJOY!

When you buy the phyllo dough, get two
because you'll want to make it again later
Keeps in the freezer for a long time.

SILVER FROST The day after Christmas we woke up to the most beautiful scene.

The world had decorated itself with silver frost

but

I found out that some beauty cannot be captured with a camera

You had to be here!

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LOVE TO EVERYONE

I want you to know that I know Heavenly Father watches over

us all, and wants us all to come back

and live with Him again

*

CHRISTMAS EVE

Santa arrives tonight? BIG DEAL!

Once a year's not that bad!

But facing this mob every day just drives a mother mad!

*

The thing that's over loaded is no longer Santa's sleigh

The thing that runs on overload is mother

every day is just like Christmas

preparation goes on constantly from morn til night

She must get an early start like Santa

in dawn's first light

to share her gifts with all the little folks

she'll be around today

*

A mother's ALWAYS on over load

and SHE comes every day!

*

This is a story written by my little sister Beth May King and I love her. Glistening icicles peaked off the roof making our back porch look like a gingerbread cookie house. The snow piled high alongside the path my father had shoveled to the shed at the back of our yard. It was a frosty Christmas Eve in 1952, in our small eastern Oregon town, and Dad told me to bundle up warm because he was taking me for a ride. I had finished playing 'flippim' on the carrom board with my two older brothers and was hoping I could prolong the time before Mom told me to get ready for bed. It was hard for a six year old to go to sleep on Christmas Eve because I kept listening for sounds that would give me clues to the mystery of Santa that I still half believed in. My brothers didn't help any, either. They teased constantly and delighted in my confusion. As Dad and I walked out the back door, I reveled in the fact that those brothers had to stay behind.

*

As we walked through the back porch, I could smell the warm, pungent scent of the carrot pudding Mom was steaming in Crisco cans in the roaster plugged in by the woodbox. A shiver of excitement danced across my shoulders as we trudged down the path and climbed into the truck Dad used for his shop deliveries. He owned a bike shop and supported all nine of us by selling and repairing all the bikes in the county.

*

I thought we were on the way to Gale's Grocery for a last-minute item Mom needed to round out tomorrow's Christmas dinner. But instead, Dad drove on past Main Street's blinking red and green light and pulled into an alley behind a row of houses on the other side of town. He stopped, got out of the truck, and went around to the back. I watched through the frosty back window as he pulled down a new tricycle with multi-colored plastic streamers poking out of the handlegrips. Dad brought it around to my side of the truck and asked me to read the name on a list lying on the seat of the truck while he checked the tag on the trike to make sure it matched. Then I watched with some confusion as he carried it up to the dark back porch, opened the latch and slid it inside. Then he hopped back into the warm truck and we drove on a little farther. He eased into the side driveway of another strange house, and this time pulled a shiny red Schwinn Speedster, with chrome fenders, across the tailgate. We checked the tags again and I helped him quietly steer the bike up the driveway and wheel it through a side door of the garage. Just as the tag said, the door had been left unlocked to receive the special delivery. As we moved back to the truck through the crunchy snow, I was starting to catch on.

*

More stops were made, and bikes, trikes and wagons were delivered as Christmas magic was being made without ever a word spoken between my Dad and me. Not once did I question. I just realized we were making memories---memories for the children who would find the

Schwinn 'typhoons' or 'manta rays' with big balloon tires and shiny spokes glimmering under their tree on Christmas morning.

*

That 1952 Christmas delivery ended with a tired little girl being carried inside and tucked into bed by her father, not disallusioned, but warm and secure for having been allowed to participate in the magic of Christmas.

Those Christmas Eve deliveries became a tradition for my father and me, and as I reflect on his thoughtfulness in making those last-minute deliveries and in allowing me to help him, I realize that the magic he created on Christmas Eve was only symbolic of all he did the rest of the year.

Dad was quiet, soft-spoken and always a fine example of integrity as he dealt with customers and he trained many young men who worked after school and on Saturdays in the shop. He taught them how to tighten spokes and paint frames as well as how to treat customers fairly and deal with adverse situations. He always had a willing ear to listen to problems concerning the home lives of the boys who worked on an adjacent workbench, and lending quiet advice when he thought it would be well received and was called for.

*

He helped prepare missionaries and gave the boys a start on their college educations. Throughout the years he received many letters and remembrances from those whose lives he touched.

*

I think the thing that most impresses me when I recall those years of hard work in the shop was the CALM. I don't ever remember Dad discussing a problem concerning lack of money or means to do things for the family. He never ranted and raged about the hardships involved in working all those days and evenings throughout the wintertime of slow business. He just plugged along and did what had to be done. Many of those Christmas deliveries probably weren't even paid for when they were delivered---he didn't want to disapoint anxious young children just because their parents couldn't pay right then.

*

As the years blur and the past grows misty with happy recollections, I yearn for the simpler times and wish I could raise my children in the same peace and happiness of 1950s Baker, Oregon. The compensation comes, however, in the form of memories---from which I glean principles and attributes that have become a part of me. As I reflect, I can see examples Mom and Dad used to help me become a better person and I try to use them with my own children. I hope I can give them basic character traits that will help mold their lives so that they will achieve the happiness I have found. The examples are surely there for me to follow.

*

And every Christmas Eve I remember, and feel glad.

*

CHRISTMAS AGAIN!

Christmas is almost here! whether I'm ready or not!

The stores are still open for the things I forgot

But I'm not going! It's snowing!

I'll be walking out side

to soak in the peacefulness, mouth opened wide

I will let the snow melt, Oh! it felt good to me

when I was a kid, that's how I want to be

*

When I open my gifts I hope I find a sled

and that night, after prayers, when I jump into bed

I'll remember who slick that snow felt on the hill

and I went down more times than my Dad

What a thrill to go sledding

I'm dreading that I must stay old

and go to my office and do what I'm told

*

but my mind will be tasting that hot cocoa, steaming

and I will be young!

deep in memories

dreaming

*

When I was a kid my Dad would take us all in the back of his pick-up to a special sledding place near-by, and what fun it was to sled even if you had to wait your turn. Now we live just below a hill, and when the kids come, they get taken up the hill in a truck or with the tractor, and can go right down to our house if the snow is just right.

*

We used to have a big supply of coats, in case some one came without one, mostly down that I had picked up at yard sales or the DI , but last week we gathered up most of them and took them to the PEOPLE TO PEOPLE store, where prices are low and if people don't have money, they are free. Lots of cold people around this year. We also took 2 large boxes of apples to the Salvation Army, they take food to poor people, she said many are out of money and food this year. In fact, I think we'll take the rest that we saved for us to donate also. I'd hate to be out of food. It's a hard time for folks, and we are greatly blessed! Besides, we don't need applesauce and I'm tired of canning anyway.

*

I don't go sledding any more, I'm the photographer and the cocoa maker. Just as fun.

*

Christmas isn't Christmas without people

don't you see?

It wouldn't really be much fun

with only you and me

because we need to have some children

who have Santa on their mind

and we need to see some old folks

who are smiling, feeling kind

who are remembering when they were young

a hundred years ago

Christmas isn't Christmas without people

Don't you know

that we need Mary, by the manger

in the warm, sweet smelling hay

holding baby Jesus

on this blessed Christmas day

*

NEW BABY HILL BERKLEY SENTA

BORN DECEMBER 15TH 2009

6 LB. 8 OZ.

18.5 INCHES

This is the proud papa, Daniel

They had one girl, four boys, and now here comes another little girl

She is Karen's grandchild #6

she is our great-grandchild # 13

A new baby at Christmas time! What a blessing!

Congratulations Hills

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Just look at those chubby little fingers, I want to hold her!

Alas, they are in far away Michigan

When Daniel was little, Karen worked while Brad was in school, so I got to tend

Daniel. I loved those days, when he was 2, so he's always been special.

*

*

Someone cleaned the kitchen!

My best gift of the day

All the dishes have been washed

and dried and put away

I went to bed so tired

now I wake up

WHAT A TREAT!

All the cupboards cleaned and washed

and everything so neat!

A GIFT OF SELF!

I do not know who gave it

while I was in my bed

but thank you

thank you loved one

and blessings on your head

*