I am a child advocate. The work I do is difficult and stressful.
Lord, give me the strength and tenacity to do it.
When I lay awake at night concerned about a child, hear my prayer and grant me peace and rest.
When I'm driving down a dirt road lost and looking for a grandma's house, guide me.
When I'm nervous because I have to testify in court, give me courage.
When my court report is a tangle of incomplete thoughts, help me make sense of my words.
When I'm under attack, grant me the grace to withstand the onslaught and the courage to tell the truth.
When I see a child in pain, allow me to minister to him.
When I receive a child's hug, fill my heart with joy. Remind me of that hug when I am frustrated and want to quit.
When there are no good answers and all seems lost with my case, refresh me with another solution I hadn't thought of before.
When I don't know where to go or what to do, grant me wisdom.
When I am tempted to be proud of the good work I am doing, remind me that these children are precious jewels dropped unsustained from heaven by you, dear Lord, and that it is every adult's responsibility to protect them.
When I am weary of seeing the scars of abuse and neglect, allow me to hold my own children and grandchildren close so that I will never forget to love my own.
And when I am beaten down and ready to quit, remind me, Lord, that there are not nearly enough people like me and help me remember that I matter. I am the voice of a child. I am a child advocate.
- by Angela Henderson
My Poppy's baby sister, Questa Mounts Berry, the last of the Mounts children, passed away Tuesday, December 2. Her funeral was today in Tyro, Kansas. She was 81.
Although her name was Questa, we all called her "Quack." Don't ask me why. She did not in any way resemble a duck.
What I remember about Aunt Quack is that she was the sweetest lady you'd ever meet. I never saw her without a smile. She was a hard worker, kind, absolutely adored her family, and made the best yeast rolls in these United States. My poor father would stuff himself silly with those dinner rolls at family reunions. The rolls came to the reunion, but no roll ever made it out. Quack always took home empty pans.
I learned something about Aunt Quack today that I never knew before and it made me even more aware of how special she was. There were six children born to Eva Mae (Holeman) and Earnest E. Mounts, my great-grandparents. They included my Aunt Bea (Veva Mounts Carter); Aunt Toots (Vella Mounts High); Uncle Erwin Mounts; Jesse E. "Jay" Mounts (my Poppy); Aunt Mugs (Margaret Mounts Pierce); and Aunt Quack. My great-grandmother, Eva Mae, died when Quack was just four years old. Subsequently, she was sent to a boarding school. I cannot imagine how lonely and difficult her life must have been. The pastor of her church surmised that this was the reason family was so important to my Aunt Quack, and I believe he is right.
Of course, all of the Mounts children suffered after my great-grandmother died. As a teenager, my Poppy began working with my great-grandfather at the Chapman-Barnard Ranch north of Pawhuska, Oklahoma, now the Tallgrass Prairie Reserve. He did not finish school, but he learned how to work hard, keep house, and cook. He also took up smoking and drinking. I've often wondered how his life would have been different had my great-grandmother lived longer.
In all the family lore, however, I'd never heard this story about Quack being sent to boarding school. I wonder how many nights she cried herself to sleep as a little girl, wanting both her mother and her father. I couldn't help looking at my own nearly four-year-old child this evening and wondering how a little mind like that can wrap itself around the idea of loss and permanent separation. My Aunt Quack was a resilient soul, of that I am certain. I have a new-found appreciation for her.
Another reason I admired my Aunt Quack was because she took on raising her grandsons, Jeremy and Mark, both of whom have turned out to be fine young men with beautiful families of their own. In fact, Jeremy is the one who took Quack to the hospital on Tuesday when she knew she was having a heart attack. He was devoted to her, and I know she considered him to be like her own son.
My condolences go out to Claudia and Cindy in the loss of their mother, to Uncle Berry in the loss of his life partner, and to Russell, Adam, Rachel, Jeremy, and Mark (and all of their beautiful children) in the loss of their grandmother. She was a precious lady of whom I have such precious memories.
Claudia told me today that the weekend before Thanksgiving, Quack baked two pans of rolls for a fundraising auction. She told Claudia the pans of rolls would net at least $10. I know several nieces, nephews, sons-in-law, and grandchildren who'd walk across a desert and back right now for a pan of those rolls, if not a hug from the lovely lady who made them.
Rest in peace, Aunt Quack, knowing you were (and still are) loved.
I'm convinced that if we humans live for any length of time on this earth, our principles will be challenged at least once along the way. There's an old country song that says, "You gotta stand for something or you'll fall for anything." Though I'm not a big fan of country music, I am a fan of the premise of the song.
In order to defend personal values, you have to first know who you are, second know the finer points of your value system, and third have enough respect for yourself to check a challenger's hat at the door. This will involve conflict, sometimes all-out war or hand-to-hand combat.
I was fortunate to grow up in a household where good examples of conflict resolution were displayed. Sometimes it wasn't comfortable to watch, but I learned how to handle conflict and most importantly, not to be afraid of it. My first recollection of using my conflict resolution skills came at about the age of 9. The neighborhood bully, a little girl by the name of Amby, made the fatal error of pushing my sister off of her tricycle and absconding with it. Of course, Gina came home crying and between sobs relayed the story to my parents, who counseled with her and then sent her back outside to handle the matter. I was sent along, too, as the enforcer.
When Gina and I approached Amby, she gave us a surly look and I could tell immediately that the outcome wasn't going to be positive. I wasn't worried. She was outnumbered. Gina asked Amby nicely for her tricycle back, just as my parents had instructed her. Amby said "no." Gina told her she was going to ask her one more time, and she did so, very nicely. Again, Amby said "no." Now came my turn. Very firmly, I said, "The trike belongs to Gina. Get off or I'll take you off." I counted to three. Amby (who apparently wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed) stayed put in the trike seat. I gave her a good shove - strong enough to send her and the bike toppling over. I picked up the trike (sans Amby) and Gina rode off. Needless to say, Amby didn't bother Gina again.
More recent examples involve more subtle bullies. Back at the beginning of my career, I was working for a municipality in economic development. I worked with a board of advisors made up of prominent citizens in the community. As with most powerful boards, there was a tremendous amount of politics, division, and internal conflict. It always seemed we were spinning our wheels and going nowhere fast. Not comfortable with the status quo, and as the paid staff person charged with making things happen, I took matters into my own hands and developed a plan of action to help the businesses in town we were supposed to be serving.
Worker's compensation insurance was a hot-button issue in Oklahoma at the time and a major concern of manufacturers, so I invited a lawmaker who had spearheaded the effort to reform worker's compensation laws to speak at a luncheon for area businesses. I knew this individual on a personal level and she readily agreed to come. When I announced the event to the board, one of the board members threw a ring-tailed fit because I did not go through his connections to acquire this speaker. I was asked how I did it and I told him that I knew her, too.
My boss, who was highly skilled in all things political, advised me that I needed to apologize to this board member at the next board meeting. I asked, "What for?" His reply was that I had offended and embarrassed this person and that I should have gone through him to make my connection with this public official. I told my boss that it would be a cold day in hell before I apologized to this individual for doing my job.
At the next board meeting, my boss began the meeting by saying, "I think there is something Angela would like to say..." All eyes turned to me. There was stone-cold silence for some time, after which I said, "Thank you for the opportunity, but there's really nothing I wish to say." After the meeting, I told my boss never to set me up like that again or I would embarrass him even more than I did that day. I also took the rest of the day off, heading home to start a search for a new job, since apparently I needed to sell my soul to the devil to keep the one I had.
There are people I know who avoid conflict at all costs. I have found that when I avoid conflict, I often abdicate the decision-making process to someone else and must settle for results I had no hand in creating. I like a more hands-on approach.
It's the path less-traveled, I think. But in my case, it has indeed made all the difference in the world.
I can always tell when I've done a good job in the kitchen because it gets super-quiet after everyone has their food. Such was the case Saturday afternoon when my sister Gina and I hosted a baby shower for our sister-in-law Amber.
Here's what we had and the recipes follow:
- Mini Ham Puffs
- Artichoke Dip with Assorted Crackers
- Vegetable Tray with Curry Dip
- Poppy Seed Muffins
- Hot Chicken Casserole
- Spinach Balls
- Cheese Curd and Kielbasa Tray (cheese from Claremore's Swan's Dairy and Kielbasa from Hillshire Farms)
- Punch, Mints, Mixed Nuts, Cake (cake by Ann's Bakery)
MINI HAM PUFFS
1 pkg. (2.5 ounces) processed sliced ham
1 small onion
1/2 c. shredded Swiss cheese
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 1/2 tsp. Dijon-style mustard
1/8 tsp. ground black pepper
1 pkg. (8 ounces) refrigerated crescent rolls
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Finely chop ham and onion. Place in bowl with cheese, egg, mustard, and pepper. Stir to combine and set aside. Spray two mini-muffin pans with non-stick vegetable spray. Unroll crescent roll doug and press into a large rectangle, pinching seams to seal. Cut rectangle into 24 equal pieces. Place dough pieces in mini-muffin pan cups and using your fingers, lightly press each piece into a cup shape. Dip fingers in flour, as needed, to prevent sticking. With a small spoon, divide the ham and cheese mixture evenly into dough cups. Bake 15 minutes or until lightly browned. Yield: 24 appetizers.
ARTICHOKE DIP
1/2 c. mayonnaise
1/2 c. sour cream
1 c. grated parmesan cheese
1/4 tsp. hot pepper sauce
1 can artichoke hearts
Drain and chop artichoke hearts. Combine all ingredients and mix well. Spoon into a small oven-proof dish. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes, or until bubbly. Serve with celery, wheat crackers, or toasted, sliced French bread.
CURRY DIP
1 1/2 cups mayonnaise
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. dry mustard
3/4 tsp. curry powder
1/2 tsp. celery seeds
1/4 tsp. instant minced onion
1 1/2 tsp. prepared horseradish
1 tsp. white wine vinegar
1/8 tsp. hot sauce
Combine all ingredients in a bowl; stir well. Cover and chill. Serve with assorted fresh vegetables. Yield: 1 1/2 cups.
POPPY SEED MUFFINS
1 ¾ c. all-purpose flour
¼ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
½ c. sugar
3 T. poppy seeds
1 (8 ounce) carton sour cream
1 large egg, lightly beaten
¼ c. butter, melted
2 tsp. vanilla extract
3 tsp. almond extract
Combine first 5 ingredients in a bowl; make a well in the center of the mixture. Combine sour cream and remaining 3 ingredients; add to dry ingredients, stirring just until moistened. If batter is too thick, add whole milk to thin out slightly. Spoon batter into greased muffin pans, filling two-thirds full. Bake at 400 degrees for 18 to 20 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove from pans immediately. Yield: 1 dozen.
HOT CHICKEN SALAD
¼ c. butter or margarine
½ c. chopped onion
4 ounce jar pimentos
6 ounce pkg. slivered almonds
1/3 green bell pepper, diced
4 ounce can mushroom pieces, drained
1 c. chopped celery
4 c. diced cooked chicken
1 c. mayonnaise
10 ¾ ounce can cream of celery soup
1 tsp. salt
1 c. crushed corn flake cereal
Melt butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion and next 5 ingredients; sauté until vegetables are tender. Place in an ungreased 13x9-inch baking dish. Add chicken, mayonnaise, soup, and salt; stir well. Sprinkle with crushed corn flakes; bake, uncovered, at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Serves 8.
SPINACH BALLS
2 (10 ounce) packages frozen spinach
3 eggs, beaten
1 c. herb-flavor stuffing mix
1 medium onion, chopped
½ c. Parmesan cheese
½ tsp. poultry seasoning
½ tsp. garlic powder
¼ to ½ tsp. cayenne pepper, optional
Salt and pepper to taste
½ cup butter or margarine, softened
Cook spinach according to package directions; drain. When cool enough to handle, squeeze dry. In medium mixing bowl, combine spinach, beaten eggs, stuffing mix, onion, Parmesan cheese, poultry seasoning, garlic powder, cayenne pepper (if used), and salt and pepper to taste. Cut butter into small pieces and add to spinach mixture. With hands, mix to break up and incorporate butter. Roll spinach mixture into 1-inch balls. Place on ungreased cookie sheet and bake at 350 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes or until set. Serve immediately. Makes about 2 dozen hors d’oeuvres.
Enjoy!!!!!!!!!
I hail from Bartlesville, Oklahoma, a city about 40 miles north of Tulsa and very near the Kansas border. Bartlesville's main claim to fame is Phillips Petroleum Company, now Conoco Phillips.
Like most native sons and daughters, I have had a love/hate relationship with Bartlesville. A few years ago, Dwayne asked me if I would ever want to move back to Bartlesville. I think there was a job there he was slightly interested in. The answer to the question, which came out of my mouth quickly and almost without forethought was a resounding "no."
It isn't that I couldn't live there. It's a completely livable city and very family-friendly. Several of my high school friends live there now, and it works for them and their families. I suppose my reticence has to do with the fact that all of my memories are there - good and bad - and I've always been the type of person who believes that when I grow from an experience, I move on. Completely.
There are places in Bartlesville that evoke wonderful memories, and are must-stops when I am in town. One of those is Murphy's Hamburgers, which is located on Frank Phillips Boulevard almost to the edge of town. Murphy's is a Bartlesville institution. It's a small restaurant with about 25 booths and additional seating at its front counter. There's almost always a wait. There is no greeter, no waiting list. When you arrive at Murphy's, you walk into the lobby and the first thing you must do is find out who is the last party ahead of you, because it's like that in the lobby. You wait your turn. And when a booth clears out, you wait for it to be cleaned off, and then you go inside and seat yourself. You wouldn't dare think about jumping in front of anyone. There is an order and law to the lobby of Murphy's. And I believe you'd get your ass kicked for a stunt like that.
Once inside, the uninitiated probably wonder, "I waited for this?" Because it is a diner, and like most good diners, it looks like a dive. The last time I remember the restaurant being remodeled was in the mid-1980s, when a tornado traveled right down the middle of Frank Phillips Boulevard, wiping out the original Murphy's building and decor. When they rebuilt, there must have been a good deal on pink naugahide, because that's what the booths are covered in. This is one of those cases where you can't judge a book by its cover.
Friends of mine swear by Murphy's steaks. I wouldn't know, because I've never had one. I always get the same thing: a tossed salad with garlic dressing and a junior hot hamburger with onions fried in. I'll describe each one of these separately.
The tossed salad is your typical non-descript shredded lettuce, chopped tomato and shredded carrot salad. What makes it heavenly is the garlic dressing, which is a pinkish-orange concoction that's just this side of heaven. My mother used to use a half of a bottle of it on her salad, it is that good. Trust me.
Now, you may be wondering..."What is a hot hamburger?" You, my friend, are in for a treat. A hot hamburger begins with a slice of regular white bread toasted to perfection. A grilled all-beef hand-formed patty is placed atop it. Then onions, either raw or grilled (or grilled in to the meat) are added. Then, cheese if you want it, but I never do. A generous handful of hand-cut, crunchy French fries are placed over the beef, and then, the most delectable brown gravy I've ever tasted, is ladled over all. Divine!
I grew up eating this wonderful stuff, and I've craved it with both of my pregnancies, and even when not pregnant. There are other remarkable restaurants in Bartlesville, but Murphy's is one of the absolute best. Try it and you'll see!
On Wednesday, November 5, Dwayne and I will celebrate 14 years of wedded bliss.
If it is possible, I love him more today than I did the day I married him.
We pledged to live our lives together in the same sanctuary in which my parents were married. It was a full-circle moment for me, standing in the same place where my parents had joined their lives together 27 years earlier.
My Daddy told me recently that before he left for Vietnam, he and my mother (who had been going steady), broke up under pressure from my grandparents. At one time, the three oldest Remke boys - Ron, Bruce (my daddy), and Mike - were dating the three Mounts girls - JaElla, Angie (my momma), and Lesta. Apparently, Dad bent to the pressure and broke up with Momma. Momma then became engaged to a guy named "Bill."
Daddy told me recently that he left his station (went AWOL) and hitchhiked back to Oklahoma to ask my mother to marry him. He told me that he knew she was "The One." He told me this story after Momma was gone, and he had big alligator tears in his eyes. Soon after Daddy's bold trek across the country, he and my Momma were married in the church where they had met in youth group. I never doubted my father's love for my mother, but this story confirmed what I always knew about my parents and their love.
What do I love about Dwayne? We are a good counterbalance to each other. He is my intellectual equal. He makes me think. I see the world from a different perspective through his eyes. And yet, although we rarely agree, he appreciates me for who I am and loves me still. He supports me in whatever I want to do and his only interest is my happiness. He is a wonderful father and an outstanding provider. You won't find a person who adores his children more than Dwayne.
Somehow, he still finds me attractive and interesting after all of these years. We've been through so much together, and I'm sure we'll go through much more. But what a journey!
God, please bless my husband and my marriage.
My life would be seriously diminished without my children.
I've written before about my sensitive, kind son, Jared. He is a gift from God I never expected.
And then, there's my daughter, Jade. She is my wild child, my entertainer. In the dictionary, her picture needs to be next to the French word "joie de vivre." She is open for anything, always exploring, trying new things, and learning. Dwayne and I get a big kick out of her.
Here are some of her latest shenanigans:
- Exceedingly intelligent, but at the tender age of three, not completely well-versed in vocabulary, she calls her nightgown a "nightengale." She likes the character Corderoy the bear and when she saw him recently, she said he was wearing "eggrolls." Uh, that's "overalls," my dear. When something surprises her, she says, "Holy Tacomole!"
- She is a total diva. If something doesn't go her way, she screams and cries and throws one of her infamous "Bitch Fits." Really. Saturday morning, she woke up at 10:30 a.m. and wanted to watch Playhouse Disney. It stops airing at 11:00 a.m. Since we have On Demand through our cable company, my children believe you can watch just about anything you want to at any time. Jade decided that Playhouse Disney should be available immediately. Unfortunately, On Demand does not include the Disney Channel in its lineup. She had a good 10 minute Bitch Fit over that news. Sorry, darling, some things are outside Mom's control.
- She loves to dress up. For Halloween, she was Tinkerbell and since she is so small (just 27 pounds dripping wet), she made a perfect Tinkerbell. We fixed her blonde hair like Tinkerbell's and she looked very cute. Today, walking past her room at Sunday School, I noted that she had the goggles from the Kid's Craftsman set on her head and she was telling everyone in the room what to do. Always the leader...
- She's very perceptive. I was watching a video on the Internet someone sent me of the two presidential candidates and Jade came in soon after the video started. She said, "Mom, why are you watching Barack Obama?" My jaw dropped. How is it that my three-year-old, who cannot vote, knows the presidential candidates? Scary!
- She likes to sing (and in tune no less!) She sings everything from "Skip to My Lou" to "Crazy Train." Yes, that would be "Crazy Train" ala Ozzy Osbourne. She also sings "Sweetleaf" and Adam Sandler's "The Thanksgiving Song." One of her other favorites is "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" by Paul McCartney. We're going to have to answer to someone for teaching her those heavy metal songs!
- She's quite entertaining. When she finds something funny, she has a belly laugh that makes you laugh. It's contagious. She's also a dancer. She's got a booty-shaking move she does that cracks Dwayne and I up. This morning, she was doing a dance move with her knees that made me wonder if she's been watching old Elvis or Jerry Lee Lewis tapes.
Of course, I'm partial, but I think she's the cutest thing ever. She's our little "Jaderbug."
As I was putting laundry away this afternoon, I noticed that my daughter had used magic markers to draw on the inside of my son's closet door. I tried several things to remove the stains, which were clearly set in. Nothing was working until I applied Clorox Clean-Up with Bleach. I used a scrubber, applied some pressure and the "artwork" came right off. Give it a try next time you have a mess to clean up.
There is a frost advisory for Claremore tomorrow morning.
Just a few days ago it was 90 degrees. Welcome to weather forecasts in Oklahoma. Kind of reminds me of the time I was sitting at an OSU game (during the infamous 0-10-1 football season), when it started out at 85 degrees and within two hours, the temperature had dropped 35 degrees. How does one dress for such weather, I ask you?
I'm not complaining about tomorrow's forecast, however. I love autumn. It's my favorite time of year.
It's soup weather. And if you're a regular around this blog, you know how much I love soup.
I've got another toe-curler for you today: Creamy Taco Soup. Trust me, this is one hot pot of soup!
Hop in your car after reading this blog. Purchase the following items: one pound of lean ground beef, one small onion, one 15-ounce can Hormel chili without beans, one 15-ounce can diced mexi-style stewed tomatoes, one can Rotel tomatoes, two cans of pinto beans, one pound Velveeta cheese, one pint of sour cream, 1/2 teaspoon garlic salt, 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper, and a sack of tortilla chips.
When you get home, chop the onion and brown it with the ground beef. Get out your can opener and open up all the cans you purchased. Cut the Velveeta into blocks and place in a microwaveable bowl. Melt the cheese in the microwave. Once the beef is browned, start adding the canned items, undrained. Stir in the melted Velveeta and the sour cream. Add the garlic salt and cayenne. The recipe calls for two cups of water, but I don't add it. I think it makes the soup too runny, but you might like it that way. At the very least, adding one cup of water can't hurt anything.
Heat on low, stirring often, and serve over crushed tortilla chips. This recipe was given to me by my friend, Maria Alexander. From the first day I tasted it, I was hooked. You will be, too.
Happy eating!
