Let's Build a Bishop

In my opinion, nothing looks sweeter on a baby girl than a dainty bishop-style smocked dress.  Having recently been blessed with yet another grand-niece, I knew I had to get busy and construct her a daygown before too much time got away from me.  The last one I made was a happy floral print, but this one I decided to make white, as cool as cool can be, and smock it with tiny rose buds.

I'm never quite sure what will interest people, but speaking for myself, I was very interested the first time I saw how a bishop-style dress is constructed.  They are really easy to do since you do almost all the sewing before you do the smocking.  Then, when the smocking is finished, you're almost done with the whole dress.

First you cut out the fronts, the back, and two sleeves.  This photo shows where I was sewing a sleeve to the front of the dress with the serger.  That way, I can achieve a tiny little seam which will easily go through the pleater.  You can see at the bottom of the sleeve where I have already run the edge through the pleater.  That part is done first, since I wanted a smocked sleeve.  Then I follow this order of construction: dress back, sleeve, front, sleeve, back.

Thorougly confused??

Well, don't be.  This next picture shows it much better than I can write it.

Only in this case, I'm actually making a dress that buttons up the front.  So I sewed front, sleeve, back, sleeve, front.

Now you're allowed to be confused!  :-/


The next step is to roll up the dress.  I lay it out on the floor, with the neck edge to the left, smooth it relatively flat, and then start rolling it up on a dowel rod, keeping the neck edge very straight.

I take this whole thing to the pleater, having loaded it with the number of needles which correspond to the number of rows I want to smock.  This tiny dress will only have five rows of smocking, so I have those five needles, plus one on either side, to stabilize it, for a total of seven.

This little machine is just the coolest thing.  It is also the best $85 I ever spent.  If I stopped to count, like that would even be possible, I've probably used it to smock several hundred children's garments in the past 25 years.  Anyway, it's so cool.  Not automated at all, just fully mechanical, you turn the knob on the right hand side, and all these little gears just feed the fabric through, pleating it as you go.  Whoever designed this was a genius.

When it comes out of the pleater, it looks like this:

But, my goal, since we aren't constructing a turtle neck, is to fan it out it to look like this:

I measure the neck edge, per the pattern instructions, then tie off the top pleater thread to that measurement.  Next I block it by spraying the living daylights out of it with spray starch, and steaming it like there is no tomorrow.  I let all that dry, and I'm ready to start smocking!!

The pattern I'm using is precious.  It's by Elizabeth Travis Johnson, called Missy.  When the smocking is completed, a small amount of embroidery will be stitched down the front of the dress, between the seven buttons.  So sweet!!

I actually have this all smocked now, and I'm busy finishing up the front details.  Check back in the next couple days.  I'll post pictures of Aly's sweet daygown.

Love,

Crescent Roll Chicken

Does home cooking define comfort food in your mind?  It sure does in mine.  I have no idea where that "comfort" label originated, but I started noticing it being used to describe recipes well over a decade ago.  We are a people in need of comfort, it seems.  We crave the familiarity of "at-homeness", surrounded by the people we love.  A delicious home-cooked meal, with everyone sitting around the table enjoying each other's company, is the very best way to unwind after a busy day.  Our family looks forward to to the evening meal together ever so much.

If that is not your pattern, or if it once was, and you have gotten away from it,  may I highly recommend you begin or reinstate that tradition in your home?   It is my opinion that families thrive in the consistency of evening meals eaten together.  Love and nurture, valuable life lessons, togetherness.  All are irreplaceable benefits of eating together daily.  We make it a priority.

Stepping off my soap box, I'd like to share another family favorite recipe with you.  This is one I procured from my son-in-law Jonathan, who got it from his mother, Nancy St. Clair.  It's comfort food at its best...  chicken, rolled in crescent roll dough, smothered in sauce, and topped with cheese.  How can you improve on that combination?  I serve it with steamed vegetables, to balance the over-all fat content of the meal. 

This recipe calls for canned chicken, which is what I use.  That way, it can easily be put together in about 10 minutes or less.  If you have left-over chicken, by all means, chop it up and use that instead.  This recipe is plenty for five people.  When I'm serving a bigger crowd, i.e., when all the troops are home, I use three cans of crescent rolls and two cans of chicken, and I double the sauce.

Give this one a shot.  I'd wager you'll like it as much as we do, served up with a heaping helping of love for the blessing that is your family.

The major players.

Roll out the dough and top with the chicken.

Now roll up the crescents and place them in the pan.

Mix up the sauce, pour over, and sprinkle with cheese.

Make your family wait while you photograph your plate.  

Oh wait, only Laura Lee does that!

Crescent Roll Chicken

•  2 cans crescent roll dough
• 1 large can (9.5 oz.) shredded chicken, drained
• 1 can cream of chicken soup
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 cup shredded cheese, more or less.  More is good.

Unroll crescent rolls and top with the shredded chicken.  Place rolls in two rows in a greased 9X13" baking dish.  Mix up the soup and milk.  Pour over the rolls.  Top with the cheese.  Bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees.

Love,

Muffins That Taste Like Donuts

Here's a great recipe for my muffin-loving mateys.  My friend, Joy in China, posted this recipe to her Facebook page this morning.  Being a muffin and donut lover, I thought these sounded like the perfect complement to my morning cup o' tea.

I wasn't disappointed.  These definitely go in the "Make Again" column.  Typical of muffins, they mix up quickly and easily.  Then, after they're baked, you roll them in a cinnamon-sugar mixture.  I used a regular muffin tin.  Joy says she used a mini-muffin tin, and that is what I plan to do next time.  More cinnamon and sugar per bite that way...

Light, fluffy amazingness!

Give them a try.

Love,

Grandbaby Love

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.~ James 1:17

I'm going to be a grandma!

To say I'm excited doesn't even begin to express my feelings.  For once, I hardly know what to say.  Would somebody just pinch me?  I know I must be dreaming. 

Yesterday, Abby and Jonathan excitedly phoned all the family and told us their news, first Tom at work, then by turns the St. Clairs and me on Skype.  Hoops and hollers, high-fives, and a house filled with laughter.  Our first grand-baby on the way!  The first of many, I pray.

It is probably a very good thing that I learned this little fact during the summer.  Now I can plan a quilt and some adorable baby togs without the school work suffering.  I'm afraid if it had been any other season, I'd be so thoroughly distracted by the news, absolutely nothing else would get done around here.

Honestly, upon waking this morning, my first inclination was to hurry to the sewing room, pull out all my books, pile through my stash, and hunt out the perfect pattern and fabric to begin a baby quilt.  Then on second thought, I decided that I want to really savor the planning of this quilt.  I have nine months, so what's the rush?  This one will be pieced with love, probably hand appliquéd and hand quilted.

While baking bread and puttering about the house today, I day-dreamed about this new little person.  Is it a boy or a girl?  Will he have blue eyes like his daddy, or will she have two different-colored eyes like her mama?  Will this child sing like an angel, inheriting a beautiful gift via her paternal genes?  Will he be full of life, always on the go, ever smiling, just like his mother?  I'm dizzy with questions.  I can not wait to meet this little blessing!

My head and my heart are awhirl with pinks and greens and blues and yellows.  With baby softness,  baby fabrics, baby sweetness.  With hopes and dreams and prayers and questions.  With teeny, tiny toes and gummy little grins.

Pure Heaven. 

Pure Joy.

Thank you, Lord, for your blessing of life!

Love,

Lemon-Berry Blast

Sizzling-hot summer afternoons are just perfect for frosty, slushy beverages, don't you think?  If you love sweet strawberries and just a little bit of lemony tartness, I'm willing to bet you'll love this recipe as much as we do.

It's pretty much a flavor explosion in a glass!

Clean a half quart of fresh strawberries and toss them into the blender with about 1/3 cup sugar.

Pour in the juice of one lemon and fill the rest of the container with ice cubes.
Process until smooth.

Pour into tall glasses, garnish with lemon slices, and sip slowly!

Love,

Victoria

Here at Mexico Missions, Inc., Saturday is Bible study and meal serving day in the little village of Victoria.  Eight of us from the mission and ten friends we pick up at the church, make the hour and a half drive on highways, back roads, and dirt lanes.  Along the way, we have to slow down again and again for "topes"-- speed bumps, more like speed hills.  Topes are serious business--hit them at more than about 2 kph, and you just left the bottom of your car on the road.  Sizeable pot holes also dot the roadways, providing an equally significant jolt.  We've named those "epot"--tope spelled backwards.

"The back side of nowhere" aptly describes this remote little village of Victoria.  Once here, we unload the vans into the municipal building we'll use for the day--in fact, a jail.  I'm thinking there must not be much crime here, because the building is empty.  Odd.

The couple of the guys drive the van over to the next village and gather up the children and their mothers who regularly attend the Bible study.  A few men come, about four or five, but mostly it is some twenty women and forty children, eager to study God's Word and eat a hot meal.

While we wait, Abby endeavors to befriend a couple of pathetic looking dogs.  They are gentle and friendly, just starved.  She sits on the basketball court attempting to coax out her favorite, a female she's dubbed "Bandita", because she sports a black mask across her eyes.  She's saved ten left-over hot dogs from our cook-out the other night and brought them along just for her four-legged friends.  Bandita eventually approaches cautiously and retrieves the hotdog that has been thrown to her.  She's unfamiliar with human compassion.   Normally, the village children throw rocks at her and laugh.  Abby is teaching them to be kind to her saying, "Ella es mi perrita de los sábados!" She's my little Saturday dog.

Meet X-ray, so named because you can count all his ribs.  He comes right over to us and wags his tail, hoping for a handout.  He's in luck today; none of the bigger dogs will steal his lunch.  Abby, champion of the underdog, will see to that.

The villagers who live right here in Victoria begin to walk over, some carrying their babies in their arms.  Once all are gathered, the singing begins.  I recognize some of the songs from our church in the States; they're just translated versions of "Lord, I Lift Your Name On High" and others.  Some, I'm unable to identify, but they are beautiful just the same.  Hearing these people sing to our Lord from their hearts, even in a language I struggle to understand, is like a taste of heaven.  I make a joyful noise, reading from the song book and doing my best not to massacre the words.  Abby and Jonathan belt it out, full-tilt.  They both speak Spanish really well and can join right in with the singing and all the conversation.

Now the groups are divided up.  Devora will lead the ladies, who stay in the building with their tiny children.   The men sit in a van for their lesson lead by Jorge.  On the porch, a table is set up for the girls and Susie.

Jonathan takes the older boys out under a shady tree. Their lesson is out of John chapter 4, about the Samaritan woman who meets Jesus, believes in Him,  tells her whole village about Him, and they all come to believe.  Appropriate.

During the Bible study, those of us with nothing else to do take "baby duty. " Basically, that means we relieve the mamas of their wee, tiny ones so they can focus on the lesson.  Some of the babies come to us willingly, others are more cautious.  A couple protest loudly.  These young mamas,  many with several small children, need a break from child care.  Understanding that it is probably very difficult to focus on the teaching and also manage their babies, we are happy to oblige!

Meanwhile, Ricardo heads up the food preparation.  He cooked this morning before ever leaving the mission.  On the menu today--hot dog tacos.  I know; I didn't believe it either--diced hot dogs in a tomato sauce, served on corn tortillas.  Wouldn't be my first choice, but it was surprisingly tasty on an empty stomach, and to these folks, very much appreciated, I'm sure.

Stomachs full, the little children run around and play while Jonathan, Brad, Hannah, and Tom start a game of soccer with the older boys.  Later, the local villagers begin to walk home and the others from up the road are transported back to their village in the van.  The rest of us enjoy the down time, relaxing, and swapping stories.  I understand a lot of what is being said, but I don't try to say much myself.

Finally, we pile in the vehicles for the bumpy ride home.  It doesn't take long to realize that our Tahoe isn't going to make it back.  We turn off the AC and roll down the windows, hoping that will help.  Jerking and knocking, it finally "gives up the ghost."  The guys rig up the van and tow us for a few miles on the dusty back roads.  Windows rolled down as far as they will go, it is still hot, and the exhaust from the van is coming in the car.  Just when I'm wondering how I can stand breathing in the fumes any longer, we pull off the road.  We're at the highway now and find a cell phone signal.  We can't tow the Tahoe on the highway lest the "federales" give us a ticket.

The love birds quickly procure snacks from a corner grocery stand, Jonathan plops down to read, I "find a potty" behind a rock wall, and the rest stand around while Ricardo tracks down a towing company willing to come out and assist us.  We leave Ricardo and Jonathan with the Tahoe and the rest of us pile into the van for the last hour or so of the ride home.

After dropping our friends off at the church, Brad is left to drive us back to the mission.  Thinking about this does not impart the most comforting vibe.  I've come to the astonishing conclusion that road rules are non-existent in Mexico, much like in China.  Whoever drives fastest, has the largest vehicle, and is most aggressive wins.  You're pretty much taking your life in your hands when you get in the car.  And there are no seat belt laws for passengers, which I find hugely ironic.

Thank the Lord, we arrive home no worse for the wear.  Jonathan and Ricardo make it home about 10:30 PM, a good five hours after we do. All in all, it was an exciting day.  I've learned that visiting missionaries requires a spirit of adventure and a sense of humor, both of which we needed in large doses today!

Love,