KarenMusserNortman
  • Home
  • Frannie Shoemaker Mysteries
  • The Time Travel Trailer Series
  • Mystery Sisters
  • Karen's Blog
  • Large Print and Audible
  • The Newsroom
  • Coming Events
  • Borrow My Books-KU
  • Camping (when it isn't murder)
  • Giveaways and Stuff
  • About the Author

The Ghost of Christmas Past

12/18/2013

0 Comments

 
At this time of year, reminiscences of Christmases long ago abound, so what's one more?

As a child, I lived in a small town in southern Minnesota with all of my relatives within a twenty-minute drive. The pattern for family get togethers was set early. Christmas Eve, we went to Grandma Jensen's house. (An aside--ever notice that the house always belongs to the grandma? Grandpa Jensen lived there too, paid for the house as a blacksmith, mowed the lawn, and fixed all that needed fixing. But we always went "to Grandma's.")

The big feature at Grandma Jensen's was the food. Grandpa was a Danish immigrant by way of Argentina and Grandma was the daughter of Norwegian immigrants, so everything started with butter. The rolls and breads were out of this world. Grandma whipped egg whites by hand in a copper bowl for her wonderful angel food cakes. At Christmas there were always rosettes and krumkake--a delicate cone-shaped cookie made from butter, cream, flour and sugar: how could it be bad?

There were lots of Jensen cousins and in my early years, an aunt and uncle still in their teens who delighted in giving us all grief through incessant teasing. And every year before we went, my mother would say to my dad, "Now Bill, please don't bring up politics or religion."

Christmas Day we spent at Grandma Musser's (known to the grandchildren as Grandma Betty.)  Our grandfather, Pa Ben, was allowed to live there too. Grandma Betty was a Christmas freak. They lived in a huge old six-bedroom house on a double lot with a half-circle drive in front. An enormous evergreen, taller than the house, stood in front, decorated with strings of full sized colored bulbs running down from the top of the tree. An old sleigh sat under the tree, in which we made many imaginary journeys.

Grandma Betty's indoor tree was a fresh balsam fir that touched the ceiling. She often made ornaments for it and when those were all carefully hung and the tinsel placed, she laid narrow strips of cotton along the branches to look like snow. These were cut from those rolls of cotton that came in a blue box at the pharmacy. A few years ago, when the cotton I had always put on our tree became too mangy to reuse, I discovered that rolls of cotton like that are no longer available.

I don't think Betty was a great cook--certainly not like Grandma Jensen. She did, however, make a great plum pudding. Pa Ben owned a large independent poultry business and had grown up in meat-packing so the entrees at dinner were always interesting. Once, when I was very young, there was a pig with an apple in its mouth. I thought later that I had dreamed that up so I asked my mother. She said yes, that was true but that I was so little, she couldn't believe I remembered it. Tell me what toddler is going to forget that on the table?

Most of the day was bedlam. My dad had two brothers, and between the three families, there would eventually be 20 children.  I was the third oldest, so as a kid there weren't quite so many yet but mostly boys. My cousin Georgiann and I were the only granddaughters for several years and much better behaved than the boys. Cuter, too.


Betty and Pa Ben had a part-time housekeeper and cook, a wonderful woman named Lizzie Beckman. who would have been memorable just for putting up with all of us but was also locally famous for her chocolate cake and sugar cookies. Because of Lizzie, sugar cookies in our family were never thick and doughy but very thin and crisp. They were never decorated with frosting but only red and green sugar. I am grateful that I have both of those recipes.

Gifts were unique at Betty's. My dad and his brothers maintained a competition to outdo each other in giving obnoxious presents to the nieces and nephews. Dad always thought he was never topped after giving my cousin Harry a set of toy bagpipes. But the gifts from our grandparents were the piece de resistance. One year we all got cowboy outfits--hats, shirts, boots, holsters and cap guns. The boys got jeans and George and I got fringed skirts. Another year the boys all got toy tool sets and George and I got real marionettes. We were engrossed the entire day learning how to work them and planning a classy dramatic event. That evening the adults were in the kitchen having coffee and birthday cake (it was my dad's birthday) when George and I walked our puppets into the room and told them that after discussion, we decided this had been a quieter Christmas than usual. They looked at us, incredulous. They had just seized all of the tool sets after one of the boys was caught trying to saw on the baby grand. Oh, for the good old days.
0 Comments

The Crafty Camper

12/7/2013

2 Comments

 
Picture
Not the most accurate title but pretty catchy, I think. Yesterday I participated in the ACT Holiday Fair. To keep tabs on me, they placed me between old friends and co-workers, Carol Ogletree and Laura Hoffman. The gift sets of Frannie books, wrapped in miniature crime scene tape, sold well, as did the single copies. I even got a check from someone made out to Frannie Shoemaker! I don't think she has an account.

Picture
It was great to see a lot of the people I had worked with, and there was a wonderful selection of handmade items--from Jamaican food and cupcakes to t-shirt scarves, jewelry, and Christmas decorations. Dr. Carol, who is one of the Industrial Psychologists at WorkKeys, makes beautiful wreaths and swags, many in a personalized theme. I have taken an oath on a stack of Christmas craft magazines that I would not bring another decoration into this house. We are, after all, thinking seriously about downsizing. But I could not resist the little camping wreath in case I need to decorate the trailer.

Picture
Carol has wreaths and swags in every color combination and decorated in themes from fishing to chocolate. Personally, I think her talents are wasted in job analysis and statistics--I mean, what's fun about that? Laura was selling cute cloth baskets that her sister makes, and they were very popular. When I was working, I referred to her as my underling, but in reality she kept the wheels turning and especially was crucial in meeting the state contract deadlines. In this photo, Carol, myself, and Laura share grins as we pack up after a successful day.

Picture
However, they couldn't resist a little joke. The department is in the midst of moving to a different building and in doing so, they came across The Clock. I made this years ago from a piece of packing material left in the hall from new office furniture and a cheap (read, VERY cheap) clock kit. We hung it in the brick-walled hallway of the Lindquist building to see how long it would take for someone in authority to notice it. It actually was several months before it disappeared. A few months after that, someone found it hidden behind the receptionist's desk, which was no longer in use. So we hung it in our common area and at Christmas, little holiday figures would appear in the various ledges. I don't know what happened to it after that, but when I arrived yesterday, there it was by the table assigned to me. Someone is going to get a VERY nice Christmas present, because it's too big for the camper.

2 Comments

Christmas is Memory

12/4/2013

1 Comment

 
I am a Christmas freak. And every January I tell myself that I'm going to pare down the next year. There are probably a dozen large boxes in our attic--up two flights of stairs--that contain things for every room in the house (including the attic playroom.)
But when I bring those down and start trying to remember what goes where, I find myself smiling over little things:
Picture
The five tiny paper houses--two vintage '40s and the others recent reproductions--that sit on a side table in the dining room. I arrange them randomly, like an old Dickens town, interspersed with half a dozen little bottle brush trees. When my grandchildren pass by that table, they suddenly become OCD (something that none of them are afflicted with at any other time) and rearrange them in neat little rows. My own miniature Levittown.

I have a village of bigger buildings similar to the popular collectibles, but these are ceramic ones I finished in the early seventies and there are only five of those also. There are trees, fences, lampposts, and a set of plastic people, including an elderly couple who are bent so that you can seat them in the plastic sleigh pulled by a handsome plastic steed. When oldest granddaughter Brooke was six or seven, she loved that village and always helped me set it up. And always after she went home, I would find the elderly couple sitting atop one of the house chimneys, surveying all.
Picture
Of course, the greatest treasure trove of all is the big tree. I have smaller ones, too, each decorated according to a theme: a cowboy one for the grandsons, a jungle tree for the granddaughters, a bird and animal tree in the basement family room, and a red-and-white snowman tree on the front porch with all of the grandchildren's names on the ornaments, and mittens, sleds, snowflakes and hats.

Picture
But the only theme for the big tree is the last fifty years of our lives. We have purchased ornaments on almost every trip we've taken and received ornaments from almost every friend and family member. The egg carton reindeer (was there ever an uglier kids' craft designed?) that one of our children made in kindergarten is always on that tree--maybe near the back. There is huge white barbed wire ring with a red and blue star in the middle of it received after I complained to our Texas son that he had never gotten me a Texas ornament. He said this was the biggest he could find. A whole collection of cross stitched trimmings were the gift of a dear friend. A yellow paper bird with a gold foil tail has been on the tree since our first Christmas. There are ornaments from Germany, England, Ireland, Vermont, Florida, Colorado, and California. There is a red glass hummingbird from sister Libby, a hand carved ball from sister Gretchen, and a crocheted egg from a former co-worker. Brooke helped me pick out the Nutcracker figures the year we saw the Joffrey perform that ballet. 

Actually, it goes back more than fifty years. I also have a pine cone tipped with just a hint of silver--one of many made by my grandmother in the Forties the year she discovered silver spray paint. Each of these and many more evoke their own memories and smiles. And the tinsel. A couple of years ago, I found real tinsel in a catalog--not that nasty plastic stuff. And each year I carefully put it on strand by strand. And giggle as I remember the year daughter Kate was a senior and we also had an exchange student from Mexico, Aurora Flores. The girls were helping me decorate the tree when I was called to the phone in another room. I could hear fits of laughter while on the phone, and when I returned, there was tinsel on the drapes, the lamps, the ceiling fixtures, the pictures, and in the girls' hair. Everywhere but the tree.

So I probably won't put this all up next year. Right.

1 Comment

Five Places to Visit Around a Cozy Campground--from Frannie

12/3/2013

0 Comments

 
I recently saw a blog that featured five places to visit in a cozy town--the towns being sites of several cozy mystery series. So Frannie stole the idea to describe five of her favorite places around River Bend Campground, the site of her latest adventure, "Peete and Repeat." And, by the way, don't miss the chance to win one of two copies of "Peete and Repeat" if you are a member of Goodreads.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Peete and Repeat by Karen Musser Nortman

Peete and Repeat

by Karen Musser Nortman

Giveaway ends December 06, 2013.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to win
Picture
I’m Frannie Shoemaker, and my favorite thing about retirement is camping with my husband and friends. We travel a lot of places, usually state parks, but our last trip we stayed in a private campgound in Southeastern Minnesota. Some people think that camping is all bugs and dirt and hard work, but not the way we camp. Let me take you around River Bend Campground.

The Shoemaker Trailer: Our camper is a thirty-foot travel trailer. My husband, Larry, and I bought it used several years ago and Larry was not surprised when I made some modifications inside. (He says I will probably rececorate my coffin after I’m dead and buried.) I like a more rustic feel than most newer RVs have, so I recovered the fold-down couch and the dinette benches with blue denim. I didn’t like the beigey-taupe border either so I took it off, painted a stripe and stenciled a border of acorns and oak leaves. A hand-quilted laprobe in navy, red and green made by my mom and throw pillows made from old jeans warm it up even more. Larry’s brown leather recliner, a wrought iron lamp and black cabinet hardware finish it off. We don’t spend a lot of time inside but when the weather’s chilly or rainy, there is no cozier place on earth.

Picture
The Campfire-The campfire is an activity in itself. Larry and my brother-in-law Mickey argue every trip about how to build a fire. Larry prefers a ‘teepee’ syle and Mickey likes the ‘log cabin’ form. But their spats aside, the fire is where we gather every morning with mugs of steaming coffee and end each day, with glasses of wine, iced tea, or beer.  It’s where Mickey plays his guitar while we try to sing. It’s where we argue politics, discuss recipes, and try and solve mysteries. And it’s also where we, especially Mickey, cook up fabulous meals, often in cast iron pots on an ingenious swing-away grill. Near the fire is the picnic table, covered with a bright vinyl tablecloth--the scene of those fabulous meals, games, and crafts. Mickey’s wife and my best friend, Jane Ann, usually provides a wonderful bouquet of her garden flowers in an old canning jar as a centerpiece.

The Campground Office: The office is attached to the front of the owners’ residence and usually manned by Mary Louise Larson, one of said owners. Mary Louise almost fills the office, not only with her plus-size body but even more with her joyous personality and booming laugh. She registers campers, sells fresh eggs and a few other groceries, doles out information about nearby attractions, and always lends a sympatheic ear to troubles. Her cat, Phun Munki--so named because of a marked resemblance to a sock monkey--likes to lay on the campground registry and pass judgment on all who enter.

The Pie Shoppe: In nearby Reston, an old wooden building serves as a stop for hundreds of cyclists every summer who wish to experience their wonderful pies.  Bike racks surround two sides of the building. Over a long counter inside hangs an old chalkboard touting the wide selection of homemade pies available on any particular day. Customers get their own drink from urns of coffee, water and tea, and laminate top tables with mismatched chairs invite them to sit and savor. Which we always do. Sometimes we see the beginnings of a mystery in the Pie Shoppe.

Picture
The Old Power Plant: Clinging to the side of a 200-foot cliff on the Burden River is a hulking cement derelict built in the early 1900s to provide power to the Burden River Valley. There is no road to it and it was built by lowering materials over the cliff. The first time Larry and I passed it on a canoe float several years ago, we were chilled by its gaping windows and air of abandonment. So we were not completely surprised on this most recent trip when we hiked down a narrow path to it, picked our way through rusted beams and debris to find....

0 Comments

    Author

    Some random thoughts about writing, camping, and eating.

    Archives

    February 2025
    November 2024
    October 2024
    September 2024
    August 2024
    July 2024
    June 2024
    April 2024
    March 2024
    February 2024
    December 2023
    October 2023
    September 2023
    August 2023
    July 2023
    June 2023
    May 2023
    April 2023
    March 2023
    February 2023
    January 2023
    December 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    December 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    January 2020
    November 2019
    October 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    December 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly