​Ellie hasn't had an easy life.  The one solace in her life is her art.  A promise that she made to a dying friend has her working very hard on her art.  Her life revolves around her daughter and her art and she doesn't know how to communicate well with people until she meets Lorenzo in Florence.  He shows her that life can be more than her daughter and her art. My Daughter thinks I ruined her life…I did my best to make her life better. Written by Kimberly Caristi Ellie hasn't had an easy life. The one solace in her life is her art. A promise that she made to a dying friend has her working very hard on her art. Her life revolves around her daughter and her art and she doesn't know how to communicate well with people until she meets Lorenzo in Florence. He shows her that life can be more than her daughter and her art. I did my best…learning to live without my dad When my dad died when I was seven and my mom and I were left alone. I mean very alone. My dad’s parents pretty much pretended we didn’t exist. My mom made the excuse that since dad was their only child we just reminded them of their loss. I did get a Christmas present a couple of times then we never heard from them again. My mom was an only child, too, and her parents had died in a car accident before I was born. Her only aunt Mary sent me gifts until she passed away when I was twelve. She lived too far away to visit but we wrote letters. Aunt Mary was the sweetest aunt, she never missed calling us on our birthdays and at Christmas. We were the smallest family I knew. Did I think I had the saddest life? No, it was filled with paper and colors. I didn’t know any better. It might have helped that I was young or I was happy being just with my mom. My memory of my dad filled me with joy. He was funny and charming at the same time. My mom made sure that I didn’t forget him by telling me stories of their lives together before I came along. I wanted to be like him but at a young age I realized I was like my mom and proved it when I was in my thirties. I was quiet like my mother and I wanted to be just like her though I failed at getting some of her traits like being organized. I have gotten ahead of myself… My mom took in laundry and did typing to make money. She kept me busy by giving me paper to draw on while she worked. I didn’t mind; I loved it. My aunt Mary was delighted that I loved to draw so she would send me colored pencils, pens and better paper. A couple of times great aunt Mary sent me art books that I still have to this day. Those were the occasions when the great part of her name really personified her. Someone other than my mother took an interest in what I really loved. A couple of times she would call me, and we would talk about the book she sent. I loved those moments. It was the two art lovers in the world alone with our book. I knew she read before she gave it to me because I would find personal notes in the margins. My mom and I were devastated when we got the news that she passed. Aunt Mary was our ray of sunshine in this world and our only connection to our past. My mom’s reaction was we had work to do though she cried while she worked for several days. It was hard to get past my grief to see that my mom grieved too. She knew this lovely woman who took an interest in me from afar. My mom had grown up with Aunt Mary being there for her in person at all the important days in her life. My great aunt Mary was a tangible person who hugged her and did more for her than called her a few times a year. I did learn that we, my mom and me, grieve by getting to work and providing for your family. At first my mom loved that drawing kept me busy then she would get mad because I wasn’t doing my chores. To be honest, drawing would take me into another world where I could imagine anything. It allowed me to live in a magical place that I created. I turned my cat into a purple cat…purple was my favorite color. I would beg kids at school for their purple crayons because mine were usually down to this little, tiny piece that was the size of the piece that kids broke off the tip of their crayons. I never abused any of my crayons, pencils or pens. I would ask everyone who would bring laundry or pick up manuscripts if they had an extra pen or pencil I could have. My mom hated me asking for a handout though she never said, “Don’t ever do that again.” I thought she secretly was thankful, so she didn’t have to buy them. When I got to middle school my art teacher saw something in my drawings and tried to teach me some techniques that I still used in some of my art. Ms. Inmann was in the wrong place; she should have been a college professor. She couldn’t draw or paint very well because she had shaky hands. Still, she taught me to draw with so much finesse that I started to sell my drawings. My mom said I had to start making money to help pay for my addiction of wanting all these pencils and paper. I started babysitting and drawing the kids I watched. I wanted to get down drawing faces. When the parents came home and saw the drawings I would be working on at their kitchen table, they would ask for them. I would tell them that I was going to use the back because I didn’t have much money for paper, then they would offer to buy them. I wasn’t totally lying; I would have used the back. The better I got the more I could ask for my portrait work. I would ask Ms. Inmann how much I should sell them for. Soon I was making more selling my drawings than babysitting. That snowballed into me being called by friends and families of my babysitting clients asking me to draw their child, parents or a beloved pet. When I got into high school I got into paints. I had another good art teacher, Mrs. Plank. She was a beautiful woman inside and out who was always covered in paint. I wanted to be just like her. When I first met her in ninth grade, she told me that I should be a model not an artist. She told me that I could make a lot of money as a model. A couple of weeks after I started her class Mrs. Plank talked my mom into letting her take me to a couple of modeling agencies. No one asked Elli if that was what she wanted. No one even thought to figure out if this was something Elli could handle. No one thought if this was in Elli’s best interest. After all the interviews I got asked to be added to two of the three agencies that we visited. I thought the one that declined me was the only one that saw it wasn’t for me. I wasn’t the one actively trying to get into modeling. One month every weekend I went to modeling school to learn how to walk. Who knew you had to learn to walk a certain way? I didn’t. I learned great posture though my teacher said I was a natural at holding my body correctly, even though I was tall for a girl and had a nice figure for a fourteen-year-old. I learned to put on makeup that made me look older. I learned how to take care of my thick massive curly red hair. I had tried to cut it one summer when I was in second grade. My mom thought it was because I was upset that my dad had just died, and I was acting out. I just thought it was because I had fallen asleep with gum in my mouth, and I didn’t want to get in trouble for it, so I cut my hair. I had to go see the school counselor for the rest of the year and play with puppets. I suffered through modeling for almost a year. I hated it. I was thankful that Mrs. Plank noticed that modeling was not my passion. Finally, Mrs. Plank really saw that I was better and more passionate about my art than I was about modeling. When she would ask me how my modeling was going, she didn’t see me excited. She thought a young girl asked to model should be floating on cloud nine. On the other hand, when I talked about my art, I was so excited and happy she realized my true passion. One spring day she took me aside in the classroom. “Elli, you need to speak up for yourself. You have talent in front of the camera though your art supersedes it by leaps and bounds. If you wanted to, you could earn more money as a model for a while then you can paint for the rest of your life.” “I don’t want to do that,” I don’t know where I got the nerve to tell her what I was feeling. She agreed with me after a long discussion, “I guess modeling is not for you. Let’s work on your art. I will talk to your mom.” I was nervous because I knew my mom loved the money and the clothes I got to keep. I had never hugged a teacher before or since but that day I just squeezed Mrs. Plank. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I will do whatever you want me to do in the classroom. I will clean your paint brushes, scrub the floor, sharpen the pencils. Whatever you want.” “Okay Elli you might regret your offer,” she smiled at me. I didn’t know if it was the smile or knowing I was not going to have to model anymore that made me feel wonderful. I didn’t care because I could just work on my art. It wasn’t long and Mrs. Plank came over to our house and had a lengthy conversation with my mom. I sat in the hallway trying to hear their discussion. Both of them were soft-spoken like me and all I heard was that Mrs. Plank thought I should give up modeling. They had to talk about more than me because they started to talk on the phone in the evenings every once in a while. My mom called me in the family room after Mrs. Plank left. It was awkward at first, my mom kept twisting a napkin in her hands then she opened up to me. She knew I wasn’t really happy doing modeling. She apologized for not telling me to quit earlier. Come to find out she thought I would fall in love with it soon because what young women didn’t like clothes and attention. She was thankful that I really never got into wearing nice clothes. Our relationship got closer that day because we started to talk about everything. She stopped worrying that she wasn’t providing all the best clothes that most teenagers wanted, and I was willing to talk openly about what I was feeling and thinking. I promptly stopped doing everything I learned in modeling school except keeping my shoulders back. Martha, my modeling coach, said it was good for you whether you were a model or not. She said I would thank her for this when I got older. I learned that if I don't keep a good posture when I draw or paint my back would hurt. When I wanted to dress up for prom and go out on a date, I did use some of the makeup skills I learned. Well, when Mrs. Plank started to just teach me how to paint it opened a whole new world for me. I loved it. Mrs. Plank was thrilled that I took to painting so fast. Freshman year we were learning how to draw with pencils, chalk, charcoal, pastels and at the end of the year we started watercolor. I was ahead of all my freshman class, but Mrs. Plank couldn’t let me advance. I just worked on better techniques. Painting with watercolors was okay but in our sophomore year we got to move into acrylic and oil paints. I was in heaven. We learned all kinds of ways to paint from abstract to impressionism to realism to pointillism and the list went on. Like I said, Mrs. Plank was a great teacher. Mrs. Plank was a champion of mine, one of the things she did for me was enter my paintings into competitions. We were always shipping this piece or that piece to somewhere in the states and a couple around the world. I won enough money to buy me canvas, new paints and good brushes plus lots of turpentine. My mom was not as impressed with the painting money coming in, it wasn’t like the modeling benefits. She was thrilled I was happier. She was always in my corner telling me how proud she was of me. The only thing that drove her crazy was I never got the hang of watching the clock. She lived by the clock. Her customers expected their clothes or papers to be ready on time. As all mothers did, she wished for me to have a normal teenage life. My mom couldn’t get past the fact that I didn’t want to go out on dates more often that I was more excited by my love of art. I read everything I could on the subject and tried to copy the best artists, trying to figure out their techniques. My English teachers commented that they wished I would find something else to write about or do a book report on. I guess it was a rare subject for them to not have read the books their students wrote about. I thought they got bored with the subject too. Mrs. Plank told me not to listen to them. She was proud that I could write as well as paint. My senior year my mom was getting nervous because I kept getting information about art schools from all over the country. I thought she was worried I was going to leave her. I kept telling her I wouldn’t leave her and that I must be getting these applications because of all my art competitions. I didn’t ask for one of them. Secretly, I thought it would be nice to get out of Missouri, but I couldn’t go without her. She was my everything. I had no one else. She worked so hard to keep us afloat. After my dad’s death things were so hard on us. I remember rubbing her shoulders as she typed. I could feel the tightness in her muscles. I did lug in the laundry detergent and the spray starch from the car. Once in a while I would throw things into the dryer for her if I weren’t covered in paint and she didn’t have to worry about stains. Anytime I earned a penny I handed it over to my mom. She usually handed it back when I needed new brushes though. She would laugh at me because of how hard it was for me to ask for money. “You know you have earned this money. Why all the anxs?” Mom said, shaking her head. “Because I am not sure we have the money at this time for the brushes.” “Silly bean, you are the reason that I am not doing as much as I did. We are a team, remember?” She put her forehead on mine. “Yes, a team.” Every once in a while I would forget and fidget trying to ask for money for paint or brushes. I did my best…to stay close to my mom I applied and got accepted to Central Missouri State University. My mom was so thrilled it wasn’t that far from home. Just before school started my mom decided to move to Warrensburg with me. I was a little surprised…well, really surprised. She thought she could get more work in a college town. We packed up our little house into a fifteen-foot moving van and had room to spare. Mrs. Plank had helped me sell all of my paintings in a show that a friend of hers had for me in her Kansas City Art Gallery. I was so nervous standing around trying to be polite to all the people who wanted to buy this up-and-coming artist’s artwork. That show paid for the moving van and the first and last month’s rent for my mom’s little house plus gave us a little nest egg. I wanted to live in the dorm and my mom was fine with that, but I was worried about having enough room in my dorm for my paintings. I knew I had my mom’s house to use if I needed the room. To help pay my bills I got a work-study job in the library. It was my first job that I got paid weekly. This was a first for me. My problem was my issue with time. I was constantly late. My boss was going to fire me after my first month, but he soon realized that I would work later than I was scheduled by way more than I was late. He finally agreed that I would work when I could. I liked working in the library because I met a bunch of people. I would never say I was shy because I could talk to anyone, but I liked it better when I was approached instead of the other way around. I was doing better not shutting people totally out of my life. I knew I had issues after my dad died getting close to people. It was very hard on me and Mom. We really clung to each other. I learned at an early age that a person you loved could be gone in a flash. I never went to bed without saying I love you to my mom and giving her a hug. Even when I was upset with how she was dealing with my dad’s death I still hugged her and said, “I love you.” I showed my friends that I cared for them every day by ending our time together with a hug. I really never had a boyfriend in high school because I couldn’t devote that much time to them. I would rather go out with my friends. I didn’t care if they had boyfriends because that just gave me more time to paint when they got preoccupied by their relationships. I used painting as my way of keeping people at a distance, never really letting them get too close to me because I knew friendship was always iffy. When my dad died, I lost several of my friends because they couldn’t handle that he was gone and how sad I was. My dad was the life of the party, and all my friends loved my dad. He always made them laugh and feel good about themselves. I learned all about it in my psychology class in my junior year in high school. I self-analyzed myself and my mom. I came to terms with my dad’s death that year, but it took me a couple of years to let people get really close to me. That was when I met Russ. Russ was a very good-looking young man with great manners and knew how to make me feel special. He would wait for me to get off work and walk me back to my dorm. He would meet me in the cafeteria and carry my tray of food over to his table where his food was getting cold. We would sit with his friends who became my friends. He bought me new paint brushes for every occasion. My sophomore year my work study was in the first-year art room. My teacher asked specifically for me. Ms. Adams saw my work in Kansas City and was excited when she saw my name on her class list. She hoped I was one-in-the-same Elli Wright. After my first drawing she knew I had to be the same artist she saw in her favorite gallery. Raven became more than just a teacher in my sophomore year. She became my mentor and advisor but most of all a friend. Raven had won several awards for her art. She was known for her paintings of people in Harlem, where she was from. I asked her once why she moved from New York to a small town in Missouri. She had followed her heart. He was the assistant baseball coach. Sometimes she wonders if she did the right thing because half of the year, she was a baseball widow. She hardly saw him. I went to some of the games with her and both of us talked more about art than watching the game. Russ came a few times and asked if we even knew what was going on. We said together “No.” Russ didn’t know anything about art. He didn’t understand why I had to draw so many things over and over. Why the painting I was working on would change from one day to the next. He would comment that he liked the yellow flowers and why did I make them purple. After a few months he stopped asking why I changed things. My work kept getting noticed by other professors. The department secretary called me Star instead of Elli. I finally told her one day, “I am sorry that I haven’t corrected you Ms. Barnes. My name is Elli.” She laughed, “I know, I call you star because you are the star of the department.” I must’ve turned as red as my hair. “Oh,” was all I said. I was so embarrassed. I did feel a little pride that someone thought I was a star of the department. My paintings were going to more competitions. I got to travel all around the United States, Canada, a couple times to Europe and once to Hong Kong. I was never so nervous in my life. Raven said if I really wanted to be an artist I was going to have to learn to talk to people and put myself out there so people would get to know me. I never asked to put my paintings into competitions. My professors were the ones to tell me I had to do this or that. I kind of liked it that way. Raven kept telling me I was falling into being a real artist instead of making myself an artist. She would get so mad at me. “You are not pursuing your art. You are letting it happen.” “I don’t know what you mean. I am taking all the classes I can. Trying everything to see what I want to do.” “If you want to get known you have to enter competition after competition. Put yourself out there and do juried competitions. Make business cards and a website for heaven’s sake. You can paint all you want but if you want to make a living you have to sell, sell, sell. One of those sells, is yourself. You have to let people know about you.” Raven was almost yelling at me. She was an intense woman for sure. “I enter competitions,” I said with conviction. “Only when one of us comes to you and says do this.” “Well, I do it. Don’t I?” “You need to do the research. Get on a computer and find things for you to enter.” “You know I hate computers.” “Well, then you are just going to be one of those local artists that could have made it big.” She gave me one of those looks that drove me crazy. “Don’t look at me that way. Do you really think I can make it big?” Raven actually flicked me on my forehead. “Why in the hell do you think everyone is telling you to enter all these competitions? Get it through that thick skull of yours,” she said with great exasperation. “You could be the next Picasso, Pollock, O’Keefe or Thomas Hart Benton if you wanted it badly enough. You just have to go for it. They are not going to hand you this accolade without you putting yourself out there. You have the work ethic; now show people you are worth it.” That speech came at a time when I was letting Russ get into what I called my inner circle. So far, my mom was the only one I let in that circle. I started to let myself really love him. I had only one example of what love was and that was my parents. My mom gave up everything to be with my dad. She moved away from her home. She had started college when she met my dad but when he was offered a job in Kansas City, he took it. They were married by the justice of the peace near my mom’s parents. They were their witnesses. That was probably why my dad’s family didn’t want anything to do with us. I was totally guessing this because my mom really didn’t want to talk about them. She would tell me all about my dad though. How wonderful he was, how good-looking he was and that I had his looks but way prettier. She always told me how pretty I was and would touch my face then pull back my hair. He was smart too. When I introduced Russ to her, she thought Russ reminded her of my dad. I thought about what Raven said for a couple of days. I decided I would do what she was doing. I was going to teach art and do art on the side. That way, I would be able to have Russ and my art…I thought. At the end of my junior year and the night before Russ graduated, he asked me to marry him. I was so surprised I felt like I was in love, so I said yes, especially since my mom really liked him. She knew he would make order in my life. That was the only thing I didn’t understand: why everyone got so frustrated with me. I did my best to keep everyone happy. I worked late at night when I was not needed. I lost sleep because they wanted me to be there for them. Why couldn’t they accept that when I was having a show, I needed to finish what I had started. I had lost all my friends because I didn’t have time for them. I only made time for Russ and my mom. So, what if I was a little late and I had paint all over myself. Russ had been offered a job in Kansas City at a financial firm doing budget analyst stuff. He tried to explain it to me, but he said he could see my eyes glazing over. He just wanted me to be there for all the social events because he wanted to show off his beautiful bride to be. I tried to be there for everything but several of my paintings had won some competitions and I had to travel with them. If I had to pay for all my travels I wouldn’t have gone. My professors were nice enough to not dock me for missing my classes. To be honest they let me, and some other students work at our own pace. A couple demanded things to be done on a certain date, but the rest said as long as they were done by the end of the semester it was okay if I missed classes here and there. My senior year I took my first sculpting class. I had a new love. You could give me anything and I could make it into something. I literally went out to the dump to find things to weld together. I made friends with a woman named Emma in my sculpting class. We would dig through the trash at school, or we went to junk yards together to find things. Some Saturdays we would go to garage sales at the end of the day to see what people wanted to donate to our art class. Emma and I became inseparable especially since Russ was living close to work. He was saving for our house; he would tell me. I was thrilled I had more time to get more work done. Emma was now in my inner circle. I think she was in my heart before I even knew it. She was so full of life that I was sucked into her inner circle too. I didn’t know I could feel like this. Our friendship was something very special. She got me and I her. My mom would cook for Emma and me on Saturdays and Sundays and sometimes during the week she would call us in the afternoon to see if we wanted to come over for dessert or breakfast for dinner. We were thrilled when we would come over and find a cool piece of trash, she found on the side of the road thinking we could do something with it. Emma was an expert welder if you ever met one. She had real skills when it came to welding. Her favorite place to go was car junk yards. She would climb all over things to get to something she just knew was there. We were both working on our Senior Show our last semester. Hers were all sculptures while I had paintings, one sculpture and chalk drawings in mine. Emma went out late one evening when I was too busy to go with her and when she didn’t show up around midnight, I knew something was wrong. There were a couple of guys working in the welding room and I asked them if they would go with me to the junkyard to see if we could find Emma. When we pulled up, we saw Emma’s car, so she had to be there. Of course, the gate was locked, which didn’t stop Josh and Tony from crawling over the fence. I called the number on the gate to see if they knew anything. No, they hadn’t seen her come in or leave. That was when I got scared. I called the police next. While I was telling them the situation Josh yelled for me to call an ambulance and a tow truck because a car was on Emma. Well, that changed how the police were talking to me. Everything seemed to be in slow motion or so fast I couldn’t keep up with what was going on. I had climbed over the fence before the police, ambulance and fire department got there. I was talking to Emma trying to keep her calm while I was a nervous wreck. I rode with her to the hospital, and I watched as the EMTs, then the doctors, worked on her. I was ushered out to the waiting room. I had never been so scared in my life. Josh and Tony came to the hospital and sat with me. We four had worked together all year and helped each other when someone needed a third or fourth hand. When the doctors were getting ready to take Emma to surgery to try to stop the bleeding they came out and told us that she wanted to talk to me. I just knew that meant they weren’t sure if Emma would survive. The guys looked at me and I knew they were thinking the same thing. I definitely wanted to go to her though it was just that my feet were glued to the floor. I was able to free my right foot then my left and it was the most difficult walk I had ever taken. It was Emma that did all the talking. She wanted me to know that she loved me more than her sisters put together, which was a lot. I was to tell her parents that she was sorry for taking one too many chances. She wanted me to sell all of her art and give the money to her parents. They didn’t need her art to sit around and collect dust, they needed a new car and to pay off her bills. She had my wedding present hiding under her mattress. It was supposed to be my something new. It was a locket, and she already had a picture of my mom and Russ in it. I listened as she told me all these things as tears ran down my cheeks. It was so hard for her to talk but she wanted to tell me, no she had to tell me all these things. I finally stopped her when I saw the nurse come in. “Emma, my sweet Emma, I will be waiting right here for you. You, my sweet thing, will be okay. You have to be okay. We have a lot of art to make together.” The nurse started to interrupt. “I love you, Emma.” It was the last thing I said to her. She didn’t make it through the surgery. I was devastated. My mom came to the hospital to pick me up. I didn’t call her, Tony did. I was a basket case. I curled up on my bed at my mom’s house and cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t go back to school. Russ drove to Warrensburg the next day when he called my mom to find out why I wasn’t calling him back. He knew that Emma was very important to me. I wouldn’t talk to Russ; I didn’t want to see him. I thought I should call off the wedding. I couldn’t get married in a month. I hadn’t showered in a couple of days, and I was still covered in paint. I only ate a couple bits of food that my mom made me eat. I had my back to the door when I heard a knock, then the door opened. “I said, I don’t want to see anyone. Please go away.” I said in the saddest voice I have ever heard come out of my mouth. “I don’t care what you want.” It was Raven. “Get your sorry ass out of bed and into the shower now.” I turned and looked at this very mad woman. “You heard me, get your butt out of bed now.” “I can’t.” “Yes, you can, and you will. Emma’s parents are here, and they need to talk to you. I can smell you coming down the hall, so get your butt into gear and get in the shower.” “I can’t talk to them. I am the reason their daughter isn’t here.” “You pushed the car onto her?” Why was she talking to me like that? I just lost my best friend, my sister. “I should have gone with her to the junkyard. If I had she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” I couldn’t believe I was crying again. How much water could come out of you before you shriveled up and died? “No, you shouldn’t have. You had your own stuff to get done. Emma took a chance to find something she thought she just had to have. She had enough pieces finished for her project; she just wanted to do more. She made the unwise decision to climb on something not safe.” “But.” “No buts. Shit happens. We don’t always get to choose how things go down. Like right now. I have two parents waiting to talk to you. Their hearts are broken. It is a terrible thing to bury a child. The least you can do is talk to them.” I got up off the bed and started to walk past her. She grabbed me and gave me the biggest hug. Oh, how I needed that hug. Finally, she said, “And brush those pearly whites while you are in there,” as she pushed me off of her. I couldn’t help it. I blew out my breath into her face and laughed. She play swatted my behind as I walked past her. Russ was in the living room when I came out. He came rushing towards me and gave me another great hug. “Elli, I am so sorry.” “Please, not now Russ. I just got my crying under control, and I am right on the brink of crying again. I have to go see Emma’s parents.” “I know. I can take you.” “That would be great.” “You should tell them that we will name our daughter after Emma.” That promise made me laugh, “So you think we will have a daughter?” “We have to. It would be a shame to waste all your beautiful genes on a boy. I figured that we would have a couple of each.” I should have called him. He had brightened my mood. “We never talked about having children or how many we would have. Four children means a lot of diapers and midnight feedings. Are you sure that is the correct number?” “We can have as many as you want. I have a stellar job, and I know I will be promoted sooner than I thought I would. My boss loves me.” He was very proud of himself. “I would love a large family. I think I missed out on being an only child.” “You think you missed out on not getting to sit where you wanted to in the car, the living room or kitchen table? You missed out having fights over what to watch on tv?” I stopped him. “Okay, I get it.” Seeing Emma’s parents was hard. I told them what Emma told me to tell them. It broke my heart to see them cry. Russ ended up coming in with me and I was glad he did. He comforted me then told me to go comfort Emma’s parents. I didn’t know if I would have the wherewithal to do that. They gave me the locket that Emma had made for me. It was beautiful. She didn’t tell me she made it. Just looking at it I could tell. Raven was there as well as Dr. Mullens, the head of the department. It was a difficult meeting, and I was glad Raven made me do it. When Emma’s parents left Dr. Mullens called me into his office. I was so nervous. I had never been called into a principal’s office before, and that was what it felt like when Dr. Mullens called me into his office. I looked at Russ and he said he would be by the car when I was finished. Dr. Mullens sat in his chair and motioned for me to sit in the chair across from him. My hands were all sweaty and I wasn’t sure what to do with them. Since the chair I was sitting in was a fabric chair I started to rub it like I was wanting to know what the fabric was made from doing so I dried my hands. “Ms. Wright, I don’t know if you are aware that Mr. Pembrook will be taking a leave of absence to work on his PhD. We were wondering if you would be willing to take his place while he was gone. He teaches first year art students mainly and art appreciation which is a core class. You have shown great promise while you were here. Pembrook and Adams think you are an excellent choice to fill in while he is away. If we can get another line when he gets back, we can have you apply for the job, but it will have to be a national search. What do you think? Wait, don’t answer me now. Think about it while you are finishing up for your senior show. I will expect an answer by the end of next week.” “Will I be paid?” He chuckled, “Yes, you will be paid standard adjunct faculty pay. Though you will have all the studios open to you for your own work plus some of the standard supplies.” “I don’t have to think about it. This will give me the experience I want to see if I would be any good at teaching. I know I should have figured out what I wanted to do besides painting all day. Thank you for giving me a chance.” “Come in next week and I will have a contract ready for you.” “Thanks again, Dr. Mullens.” “Thank you, Ms. Wright.” As soon as I walked out of the main office Raven met me with a shove. “I told you to stop letting things happen for you. You took the job without thinking about it didn’t you?” “Well, yes.” I didn’t get a chance to elaborate. “When will you take charge of your life? Well, I am glad you are sticking around so I might beat some sense into you.” She gave me a hug then played smacked me on the back of the head. “Your split personality is showing through.” I gave Raven a shove in the shoulder. “I have to go tell Russ.” I did my best…I got a teaching job Russ was pleased that I came out smiling. He wasn’t sure about me taking the job though. “Where are we going to live? I thought we would get a condo near my work until we started a family in a couple of years.” “Russ, didn’t you think I would want a job?” “I make enough money for us to live on. I just thought you would want to paint for a while until the children come.” “Seriously, you thought I would give up my work to have children?” I couldn’t believe he thought I would do that. “I just thought they would take up so much time that you would want to be there for them. I know you can go back to work when they are older.” “What century are you from? What about you giving up your job to take care of all these children you want?” “Don’t get mad. I just thought that is what you would want to do. We can play it by ear.” I looked at him and wondered if he really knew me. “You do know that my art is not a hobby. Don’t you?” I stared at him and wondered if he understood me. “Hey, who set up your website? Who is keeping it up to date? Who replies to the comments? You haven’t even learned to upload pictures to it. I am being supportive here.” He had turned the table on me, it was his turn to be upset with me. I gently touched his shoulder and leaned into him and kissed him softly on the lips. “You do all this for me. Do you think we are ready to get married? We hadn’t even talked about how many children we wanted. What else have we not talked about?” “Well, I know I am ready. Do you have second thoughts about us? Has Emma’s death changed things for you?” I cringed when he said her name. Maybe it had woken up my dreams of who I really wanted to be. Her words and her parents’ words came flooding back to me. ‘You are an amazing artist. Honor Emma by being the best you can be.’ He was searching my eyes with so much concern. “Don’t you love me? I know I love you.” “Of course, I love you.” “Then it is settled. We are getting married in less than a month.” Russ kissed me and gave me a warm embrace. I went home and painted a sign ‘Be the best you can be.’ I would keep the sign forever as a memory of this time in my life. My Senior Show was a success, as was Emma’s. Everyone chipped in on their sales to be able to send Emma’s parents $100,000. I got back the nicest letter of appreciation from them. They were giving a scholarship to any student going into art at her high school. With all the money left over after paying her bills, they were able to buy a nice used car. I saw where Emma got her huge heart from. I reached over to touch my sign. “Emma, thank you for being my friend. I promise you I will work my butt off to be the best artist I can be.” I had made enough money to pay for my part of the wedding. When Russ asked me to marry him, I told him that I didn’t want a big wedding. My mom didn’t have any money. She still took in laundry and typed up theses. She indeed had more work living here next to a university. He was okay with a small wedding and said he would talk to his parents about paying for the reception. I didn’t think they were thrilled with the idea. Since he was the only boy in the family, they thought they would get one wedding break. After my show I was able to give them some money. Well, I tried to give them money, but Russ’s dad wouldn’t hear of it. He told me to put that money to good use like more paints, brushes and canvases. Mrs. Shaw didn’t seem happy about it. She did add that some furniture would be nice too. I thanked them for their support. Mr. Shaw came over and gave me a big hug. I knew it was going to be difficult to win over Mrs. Shaw, but Mr. Shaw was another story. He was one of my biggest fans. Since Emma was gone, I had my mom stand up for me. She was taken aback when I asked her to be my maid of honor. “Are you sure Elli? You can ask one of your other friends. I am an old lady.” “Mom, you aren’t that old. You have always been there for me. Who better to stand up for me at my wedding?” I reached over the kitchen table to grab her hand. “Mom, I want us to walk up together too. Come, I don’t think you want to wear Emma’s dress, so we need to pick you out something beautiful to wear on my special day.” “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have a daughter like you.” “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have a mother like you.” Our wedding was small, and we got married in Russ’s church to make his mom happy. My mom and I didn’t go to church after my dad died so I was fine with it. I really liked the minister who performed the wedding. He had everyone get out of the pews and encircle us as he performed the wedding. It made it feel so special. After the wedding ceremony we walked across the street to the church hall. We had a lovely dinner and the best wedding cake I have ever tasted. I hoped there would be leftovers. My hopes were dashed because everyone else thought the cake was as good as I did. Russ didn’t have time to go on a honeymoon so we went to the nicest hotel we could handle paying for. I just couldn’t justify paying several hundred dollars for one night in a hotel. We compromised on a hundred and fifty. I had never paid that much for a hotel and if my mother knew how much it was, she would have gone crazy ranting on how much we could have bought at the grocery store for that much money. When I paid almost that much on the dress she wore in the wedding, she threw a fit until I said I guess I will not get married then. I wished I could say our first few months of married life were wonderful times, but they were not. We had to get used to each other’s habits. I felt like I was doing a better job of adjusting than Russ. I knew he liked things a certain way, but I thought that would change when we got married. Aren’t you supposed to think of the other person when you get married? We had decided to live halfway between our jobs. Well, when it came time to find a place to live the couple of places in Lone Jack were not up to Russ’s standards. We settled on a place in Lee’s Summit. Russ wasn’t really happy about it, and he made sure I knew it every time he got stuck in traffic. I tried to tell him that I had to drive farther so stop complaining. When classes started up in the fall, I would stay with my mom a couple of times a week. I started keeping more clothes there than I did at our apartment. Russ hated that I was always covered in paint so I would go to my mom’s house to shower and change before going home. Then he wasn’t thrilled that I spent so much time at my mom’s house. He thought it looked wrong. “I work late, I have to shower before I come home and then I have over a half hour drive to get here. On days when I teach the next morning it gives me less than six hours of sleep. We could live in Warrensburg if you want me home every night.” Well, that shut him up for a little while. Our communication skills left something to be desired. I would swear I told him something and he would yell that he told me something. Russ started somewhat calmly then it crescendoed into an ear-splitting scream, “You never listen to me when I talk. You are always thinking about the next thing you are going to paint or what you are going to be teaching the next day.” I said through gritted teeth, “Why can’t you understand that I have never taught before! This is using a different part of my brain. I am exhausted driving back and forth, teaching four classes and I have to produce art to stay active. You are the one who wants to live in an apartment that has no natural light. We live in a cave. I have no room to paint in this place even if there was light. I told you that, then you went and signed the contract without me.” My last sentence must have gotten to him because he changed his tactics. He almost sounded like the loving husband I thought I married, “I have to drive too. I work hard all day. I would like to come home to my wife and have a nice dinner.” Yes, he worked all day at a desk. Oh, he played racquetball three days a week during his lunch hour with friends. Who gets an hour and a half for lunch? He worked late almost every day, so he didn’t have to deal with the traffic. I would like to come home from work to a husband and a nice dinner too. I didn’t know who he thought he married. I had never made dinner for him before. I really didn’t cook. I had never had to cook before. My mom would cook between doing laundry and typing to use another set of muscles, she would say. She did give me her favorite cookbook when I got married and wished me luck. Why did everyone expect me to change when I got married? Was that what I was supposed to do? I talked to Raven about my situation. She said marriage was a give and take situation. If no one gives and always takes, marriage becomes a losing battle. Okay, I decided that I would try to have dinner on the table on Fridays and Saturdays, and we would go to my mom’s house on Sunday. I was happy with myself that I actually accomplished my plan. That worked for a while. Mom made enough for Russ to take some leftovers home for a couple of nights that I wasn’t there. Russ liked my mom’s cooking so that helped too. Two years went by in a flash. I was getting known around the United States as an up-and-coming American artist who could paint in many styles. Usually, an artist picked one way of painting, but I loved to change how I painted. Dr. Mullens had several talks with me about picking one style or technique of painting many times. He thought one way would be best for my career as an artist. I was thrilled that he thought I could have a career as an artist but I just couldn’t pick one. It was what drove Raven mad many times too, though Dr. Mullens never got mad or yelled at me. Raven did. I was making almost as much money selling one of my paintings as I was for teaching one of my classes. Some of my sculptures would bring in a pretty penny too. I didn’t see what was wrong with what I was doing. Dr. Mullens called me into his office one spring day. “Ms. Wright.” “I’m sorry Dr. Mullens, I did change my name to Elli Shaw,” I said with some apprehension. “Don’t you sign your paintings, Wright?” Russ wasn’t happy that I signed my paintings Wright, so I changed to Shaw. He made a big deal with it on my website that I was now Elli Shaw. He sent out flyers to all the galleries that had my paintings to let them know that I was now a Shaw. “Sir, I just changed a couple of months ago to signing Shaw. It was easier to hide the smaller name.” I felt I had to give a reason why I changed besides that my husband wanted me to use his name. “Why do you hide your name anyway?” “I hate to distract from the painting.” “Don’t you want to be known?” The furrowed brow was telling. I needed to stop hiding behind my paintings. “Yes sir.” I gave a huge sign more than I intended because I knew what was coming. “Then sign them with a flourish Ms. Wright.” Why did everyone know what was best for me? I was doing pretty good here. “Your contract is ending soon. Dr. Pembrook is coming back in the fall. I am sad to say I didn’t get another line to hire another teacher. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind teaching a couple of classes still as an adjunct. You can use the studios still,” he added like it was a selling point. It was a selling point. I didn’t have anywhere else to paint or do my sculpting. “Yes, I would like that.” Raven wasn’t pleased with me again. I disappointed Raven more than Russ, I thought. I wanted my marriage to work but Raven thought I should either paint full-time or teach full-time. My evaluations from students were some of the highest in our department. Apparently, I had not pissed off any of my students. That was my assumption why I had a high ranking in the department when it came to evaluations. I thought Raven was a great teacher. I haven’t had a bad art teacher, and everyone has been so supportive. I had avoided the teachers that I heard weren’t that great. I knew of professors who shouldn’t be teaching. I had some of those in other departments. I had just been lucky, I guess. I came home one August day and actually made dinner. It was a weekday so this would be a surprise for Russ. Well, he surprised me. He was so excited that I had the table set, I was not covered in paint, dinner was ready, and it was a weekday. He came running at me with the biggest smile and swung me around ending in a passionate kiss. He pulled back from me, “Do we have time for some action in the bedroom before dinner?” I laughed, “I should surprise you more often. I think so.” He picked me up and carried me to bed. Russ was laying on his back and panting. “What a great way to end a perfect day!” “I’m guessing you don’t have much hope for dinner,” I looked over at him. “No, no I trust dinner will be wonderful. I have great news.” I turned on my side resting my head on my hand. “I have been promoted. I start in a couple of weeks. They told me to take a vacation before I start because I won’t have time for a while. You aren’t teaching right now, it's perfect.” “I guess I can finish my work when we get back. Where do you want to go? How about…” I was interrupted. “I have the perfect place: Destin, Florida. We used to go down there when I was a kid.” “I was thinking New Orleans, there is so much to see there.” “I want to relax because I have to hit the ground running when I get back. I want to lie on the beach and chill.” “Okay,” I said with disappointment. I really hated his idea, but he seemed so happy about it. We drove down on the weekend and found a cheap hotel near the beach. We did have fun, and I had time to prep for my classes in the fall. Russ couldn’t believe I still used a legal-size pad of paper to plan my classes. I love how they come in different colors so I can have one color for each class. He said we could afford a computer for me, but I said I was fine with my paper and pen. I had forgotten my birth control pills but it wasn’t the first time I had done that, so we weren’t concerned. We should have been concerned. We had the distraction of being so busy when we got home, we didn’t have time to think about each other, just our own work. I went to stay with my mom for the week and he put in tons of hours at the office. He had to work over the weekend, so I was free to stay another week with my mom. It was a little bit of a misnomer saying I spent the week with my mom. I might see her in the morning. Often, she tried to make breakfast for me though I tried to pass on it until I got a pouty face. That was when I knew I was going to have to have breakfast with her if not today, definitely tomorrow. For fall break I asked Russ if he wanted to go to Oktoberfest in Hermann for a quick getaway. We needed to reconnect. It was all set. I went home that Friday and got out our suitcases and started to pack. I came across my old pill container in the bathroom and thought, damn I hadn’t been taking my pills. I thought about it for a moment and realized that we had only had sex a couple times in the last two months. This was not good on many levels. Aren’t young married couples supposed to have sex all the time? All of a sudden, a huge light bulb went off over my head. Our life was so busy the first couple of months we got back that I didn’t even notice that I had missed my period not once but twice. I dropped everything and ran to the closest store and hoped that I would beat Russ home. I didn’t want to have him see what I was about to do…take a pregnancy test. I sat there staring at the stick. How were we going to take care of a baby when we barely took care of ourselves? Our house was a disaster area. I was hardly home so most of the mess was Russ’s, though he expected me to clean it up. Well, he had another thing coming if he thought I was going to pick up after him. We were both so busy working on our careers that we barely talked anymore. How were we going to do this? I stopped asking questions I couldn’t answer and just stared at the stick. Russ came home all excited and ready to go on our mini vacation. He found me sitting on the couch with the stick lying on a napkin on the coffee table. I was tired of holding it. I thought for a moment if I ignored it, would the whole thing disappear? I wanted to have children but not yet. I thought maybe when I was thirty and was well established. “Do you have all my stuff packed too?” he said as he walked past me into the bedroom. “Elli, I thought you wanted to get on the road as soon as possible. Why is everything just lying on our bed?” He came back in and looked at me. Well, he could at least see that I was upset. He rushed over to me, “Elli, what is it? Your Mom or one of my parents?” I looked him in the eyes then I looked at the coffee table. “What’s this?” I could see the realization cross his face. He got the biggest smile on his face. He grabbed me and kissed me all over. It was hard not to get caught up in his excitement. We made love right there on the couch. It was the first time we had done it someplace other than the bed. Russ probably thought the bed was covered in clothes, so this was the neatest place to do it. He was good though I have no references, but he was nothing like what I saw in the movies or on tv. “I take it you are happy that we are having a baby?” “More than you know, aren’t you?” “I just wonder how we are going to do this. We barely see each other now. How are we going to take care of a baby and when will we see it?” “Don’t be silly. We will make time. You don’t have to teach anymore. Don’t look at me that way. I didn’t say you had to give up painting. Instead of going to Hermann, why don’t we start looking at houses? We can get a house where you can paint all you want.” “I can just paint when the baby doesn’t need me, is that it?” “No, we can work something out.” I had a bad feeling that Russ’s ideal world wasn’t a realistic one. I went along with it because I wanted it to be perfect. We started looking at houses in the morning, then the afternoon and all-day Sunday. Finally, we talked to a realtor that we both liked at one of the open houses. We gave her our criteria of what we wanted in a house. We didn’t feel we had to get out of the apartment right away since we still had a lease until May. For the first couple of months, we saw a ton of homes that didn’t fit either what Russ wanted or what I needed. Then she would call us every once in a while, when something new came on the market. One day in March, Russ called me to tell me that he had just bought a house in Liberty. “Russ! How could you do that? I haven’t even seen it!” We haven’t even looked at homes in Liberty. It was too far away from Warrensburg. “Don’t get mad. I think you will love it. It is such a hot market there that I was afraid we would lose it.” “Why didn’t you call me to come look at it?” “I knew you had class and would want to wait. Cheryl called me this morning and said she just did a walk through with the realtors and knew that we would love it. You can see it this weekend. I promise you; you are going to love it. Wait until you see the kitchen, it is beautiful.” “Like I love to cook!? What about the light? Where will I paint?” I was so frustrated. “There is a three-car garage that has room for you to paint.” “Is there heat in there? How about air-conditioning for the summer?” “We can get a space heater, and you can open the garage door in the summer.” Great! I can sweat my pants off in the summer and freeze to death in the winter. “Is there any light in there?” “Of course, there is light in there.” “Russ, you know what I mean. Am I going to get enough natural light to paint by?” “I think so.” He wasn’t sure, I could tell. Why did he do this? “The best thing is we don’t have to use your money to afford it. We can just do it on my salary. I hear the silence on your end. This makes it so you don’t have to worry about painting after the baby comes for as long as you want.” I told myself over and over you have to give and take to make a marriage work. My pregnancy had been more than I could have asked for. I had very little morning sickness and I was lucky I was carrying all the weight in front like a little basketball. I had a couple of months to go, and I was crossing my fingers that the delivery was as easy as carrying her. Last month the doctor did a sonogram, and she was pretty sure we were having a little girl. Russ was standing there crying and holding my hand as we looked at the screen. “Look Elli that is our little Emma.” It was times like these that my love grew for Russ. I could be so frustrated with him, and he would be so sweet the next minute that my frustration would float away. When I went to look at the house my heart sank. There was a lot of natural light everywhere except the garage. Oh, the garage had some natural light, and it was big so I knew I could get some nice size canvases in there and I could use my blow torch for metal work. It was a lovely home, and it had an inground pool. I felt rich. My mom was going to love the place. I was wondering if she would move here to be close to us and Emma. I was learning that you can’t plan everything or things for Elli always change. Well, my mom had met a couple of widows who worked at the university. She first met Sheila, mom was typing up Sheila’s papers and mom transcribed her book. Mom thought Sheila’s book was interesting and they started talking. Sheila was the first real friend I had seen my mom have. I never thought about it. I was an awful daughter, was my thought, when this realization overtook me. Sheila, Lois and Mom started to share expenses in a cute home near campus. Mom had stopped doing laundry for anyone else but who lived in the house. They were thinking about getting someone else to move into the fourth bedroom. They all agreed that it had to be someone who fit their little group. I was worried that I wouldn’t have a place to stay when it was a late night. Lois and Sheila thought I fit into their little group very well and left the bedroom empty for me. I was happy that my mom had these new friendships. Emma came the week after finals. I didn’t know how lucky I was to get all my grades in, and I was able to take about a half a dozen paintings downtown to the art gallery to sell. Max, the new director of the gallery, said I needed to get an agent. I had been taking paintings to the gallery since Ms. Plank took me there. He said, “You could have your paintings all over the States if you had someone working for you to get your name out there.” I was pleased and a little embarrassed by his gushing all over me. We kept walking back and forth in front of my paintings and he finally asked me if I would mind if he worked on getting me known. He would only take a small percentage of the sales. I thought why not. We never wrote up a contract, but we shook hands and that was when my water broke. Max drove me to the hospital. I told him I could do it on my own, but he insisted. Russ met me there and Emma came into the world two hours later. My mom came to the hospital and was so excited to see her baby have a baby. She couldn’t believe how easy this pregnancy was for me. That was when I heard her horror story about having me. Why didn’t I ask her how it was to have me before? I really was not a great daughter. She was in labor for days with me. The doctor thought her labor would stop because she wasn’t progressing. She had morning sickness the whole nine months, so she was begging the doctor to take the baby. Finally, on the third day the doctor said it was time to decide about having a c-section. Mom didn’t have any help after the baby was born, which made Mom not excited about having another baby. My parents had just started talking about having another child when my dad died. I couldn’t believe my mom’s confession at my hospital bed. Why wasn’t my mom mad at me? She ended by saying she was lucky to have just me because she just barely made enough to take care of the two of us. I made a vow to myself when I sold my next painting, I was going to do something really nice for her. My luck continued as Emma was the perfect baby. I could paint with her in her baby carrier, and I got a lot of work done. Once Russ came home and went ballistic when he saw paint on her head. I hadn’t even noticed it. We went out to buy a playpen that night. That didn’t help much because she was happiest when she was in her carrier. To be honest, so was I; I couldn’t get enough snuggles in. I didn’t know I could love someone that much. When she got too big to be in the front, I wore her on my back. She loved it when I would paint big paintings because I would be moving all over the garage. I sold two large paintings thanks to Max. One on each side of the country. I was able to buy my mom a new car. Nothing fancy but it was new and paid for. It was small so she could see over the hood, and it had the best safety rating in case she got into an accident. She was very proud of the car and her widowed friends didn’t worry about her coming to visit me. She couldn’t believe me when I handed her the key and said it was hers. “Honey, I can’t take this. It is too much.” “Oh, yes you can, and you will. You have been very good to me. Besides, I wanted you to be able to come visit me without worrying about you on the road with that old junker. Besides, Russ has already ordered someone to come and take your car to sell it for parts.” With the leftover money we put windows all along the side of the garage to give me more natural light. I was glad there weren’t any trees along this side of the house. I would have to wait until the next painting was sold to insulate the garage. I decided not to go back to Central to teach. Raven wasn’t sure about my plan even though she supported me. I decided to paint full-time for a year. I didn’t think I could leave Emma with a sitter just yet. Max was working on selling my paintings or trying to get them into museums. I was feeling pretty good about everything. I just wished Russ were feeling good about the situation. He was thrilled I wasn’t going back to work though he thought I would put more effort into the house. Of course, I painted Emma’s room. It was so adorable in my opinion even if I was the one who designed it. I painted all kinds of butterflies flying all over the room. Russ thought I should paint the rest of the house because it was all white. He thought I would want to decorate it too. I wanted to paint. The only way I knew how to decorate was with my paintings. I felt like we didn’t have money to buy anything that was decorative. We used our money to go towards house payments, house bills, and buy food and clothes. Russ’s clothing bill was huge while I was happy with wearing what he called workout clothes. My mom would let me paint the walls when I started to earn enough money for my own paints. When I would go to the hardware store for paint, the clerk finally asked me one day what I was painting with these small amounts of paint or paint that was on discount because the color wasn’t mixed right. I told him I was an artist, and I used anything I could find cheap. I just needed to paint. From then on, he would keep paints for me behind the counter and sell them to me cheaper if I would show him a picture of what I painted. One day I went in to sketch him behind his counter and brought him a painting I did of him on a piece of wood I found in the trash behind the store. This simple gift actually got him all teary eyed. He had me sign the back because when he died, he wanted to leave it for his children to sell because he knew I was going to be famous one day. I was so touched by him that I got glassy eyed too. I started to put paintings that I just wasn’t sure if they were finished around the house. I thought if I saw them in a different light or a quick glance, I would see what was missing. I had to admit I got a little carried away. One day Russ came home. “Elli, I feel like we live in an art gallery. Plus, I see all these little handprints all over the furniture and floors. Can’t you at least wait until they are dry before you bring them into the house, so Emma won’t mess them up and in turn make a mess of our house? It can’t be healthy for her anyway. She sucks her thumb and half of these handprints around here are missing a thumb print.”

< Back Pizza alla Sicliliana Sicilian Pizza Prep Time: 15 minutes plus rising time Cook Time: 12 Serves: 1 to 2 pizza crust Level: easy About the Recipe Ingredients 2 ½ teaspoons (1package) active dry yeast or 1 small cake (18 grams) fresh yeast 1 ½ teaspoons sugar 1 ½ cups plus 1 tablespoons luke warm water (105 to 110) 2 tablespoons (25 grams) lard or olive oil 1 ½ teaspoons (8 grams) salt 4 ¼ cups (550 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour Preparation BY HAND Stir the yeast and sugar into the water in a large mixing bowl; let stand until foamy, about 10 minutes. Stir in the lard. Whisk in 2 cups of the flour, 1 cup at a time; add the remaining flour and salt then stir until the dough comes together. Knead on a lightly floured surface until soft and velvety, 10 to 12 minutes. BY MIXER Stir the yeast and sugar into the water in a mixer bowl; let stand until creamy, about 10 minutes. Mix in the lard with the paddle. Add the flour then the salt mix 1 to 2 minutes. Change to the dough hook and knead at medium speed until soft and velvety, 3 to 4 minutes. (I always knead a minute to make sure it has that it truly is kneaded enough) BY PROCESSOR Stir the yeast and sugar into ½ cup warm water in a small bowl; let stand until creamy, about 10 minutes. Place the flour and salt in a food processor fitted with the dough blade and process until several pulses to sift. With the machine running, pour the dissolved yeast, 1 cup plus 1 tablespoon cold water, and the lard through the feed tube and process until the dough gathers into a boll. Process no longer than 20 seconds to knead. Finish kneading by hand on a lightly floured surface until smooth, soft, and velvety. Rising. Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let rise until almost doubled, about 1 hour. Punch it down, cover again, and let rise just 20 minutes. Shaping Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and shape in a thick disk. Roll it out with a rolling pin to a 12-inch circle, about ¼ inch thick, leaving a thick edge. Turn the dough over several times as you roll it, so that it won’t shrink back later. Place on an oiled baking sheet, a peel sprinkled with cornmeal, or a 12-inch oiled pizza pan. {I oil the top of the dough (this keeps the sauces from making a soggy crust) fold it in half brush off the flour and lightly oil what will be the bottom. Place the oiled side down on the oiled pizza pan. I then brush off any excess flour and lightly oil that side then flip the dough open and top with the sauce, toppings and cheese. I bake it in a 450 degree oven on the rack in the top position for about 12 minutes (my oven isn’t consistent so you might want to check it)} Previous Next

< Back Strasbourg Pastries (Strassburg-bakelser) Prep Time: ten minutes to mix together and about ten minutes to put through the press. Cook Time: 10 minutes Serves: 12 Pastries but you will want to double, triple or quadruple this recipe Level: easy About the Recipe Ingredients 4 oz.(1/2 cup) butter 1/4 cup powdered sugar 1 Tbsp vanilla sugar (Van-O-Van is the best) 1/2 cup sifted all purpose flour 1/2 cup potato starch flour Filling:1/2 cup seedless raspberry preserves or melted chocolate morsels Garnish: powdered sugar Preparation Cream butter, powdered sugar and vanilla sugar until fluffy. Add the two kinds of flour one at a time and beat vigorously. Press the dough through the #5 pastry tube into small flat rosettes directly onto cookie sheet about an inch apart,or use a super shooter (it is easier this way) with flower disc.Bake at 350F for about 10 minutes (do not brown). When cool sandwich the cookies two by two with filling between. Before serving sift powdered sugar over the cookies. Makes approximately 12 pastries Spend ten dollars and buy an electric cookie shooter you will love me for it Previous Next

Tessa is an over ambitious young woman.  She turns over her father's farm to an organic farm, becomes a chef, competes in a competition of young chefs, opens a restaurant, raises pekin ducks and emus.  She has one great fling and a drunken night.  Tessa sees love all around her but thinks she will never find that one true love. Written by Kimberly Caristi Tessa is an over ambitious young woman. She turns over her father's farm to an organic farm, becomes a chef, competes in a competition of young chefs, opens a farm to table restaurant, raises pekin ducks and emus. She has one great fling and one drunken night in Italy which is life altering. Tessa sees love all around her but thinks she will never find that one true love. This Magic Moment My excitement was so hard to contain. I was finally going home with my school art project that I worked so hard on. I couldn’t wait to show my mom and dad what I had been working on. As a second grader I was one of the last kids to get on the bus. There were only a couple of kids in first grade and afternoon kindergarten who were behind me. I was very proud of my project, and I bounced my way up the stairs to show Mr. Vanleer, our bus driver, my house. I had picked the nicest looking popsicle sticks to make my farmhouse. I colored them with the salmon marker making sure that I covered the whole stick in a pretty pink color. Of course, my house might have needed to be painted again but that didn’t matter. I was going to give it to my dad, showing him how much I loved our house and him. I was beaming from ear to ear after Mr. Vanleer said it was the nicest house he had ever seen. I had only gotten past a few rows when some mean boy thought it would be funny to trip me, which sent the house flying and to my utter dismay crashing into three pieces. My heart was broken. I was trying desperately not to cry because I had been taught that big girls don’t cry, nonetheless, a few tears did escape. I was saved by our neighbor Chase, who helped me pick up the pieces and had me sit with him. Chase was in seventh grade. He was the oldest of five brothers, all who rode the bus with my sister and me. Frank was in fifth grade, the twins Louis and Gab were in third grade with my sister Tina, and Andy was in first grade. Chase was so helpful; he used his chewing gum to glue back the pieces together. He talked to me about my house and asked me what my favorite subject was in school. We talked the whole way home. He carried my art up to the front of the bus when it was my turn to get off. His was the next stop after you crossed over the creek. When the weather was bad the bus didn’t cross the creek because it would never make it up that hill it was so steep. They either had to walk the rest of the way home or if they were lucky their mom would pick them up. I would never want to walk across that creek in the wintertime when the water was as cold as ice. Once I fell in the creek where it crossed our property and I was swiftly picked up by my dad and he ran with me in his arms all the way to our house. I was wrapped up in blankets and heating pads for a couple of days and got all the hot chocolate that I wanted. I walked our long driveway home with Tina talking all about Jordan, her new love. Tina was only nine but that was all she talked about was love. I have heard my mom and dad talk about her obsession with love. Apparently, it scared both of them. I was too young to understand it but I thought I would have been scared too if I were her mom. While she yammered on about him and how the other girls were jealous of her, I thought about how kind Chase was and thought he was the nicest boy I knew. Maybe I loved him. The Very Thought of You As the years went on, I watched Chase become the king of the bus. His word was law and everything he said went unprotested. He picked the radio station, and we all had to be happy with his choice of music…no one protested. If someone sat in his seat all he had to do was stand there and look at them. He never lifted a fist as far as I saw, unlike his brothers who were always fighting. Even the older kids who still rode the bus deferred to Chase with his undeniable presence. One day when I was in seventh grade I was late getting on the bus. There was only one seat that had only one person in it and that was Chase’s. I saw there were kids with three to a seat. No one ever asked Chase if they could sit with him. He was a senior and there were unwritten bus rules never ask to sit with a senior. The route our bus took in the afternoon was pick up the kids from the high school first then it went to the middle school. We drove a half hour to the elementary school which was another half hour to our house. Half of the kids got off our bus and got on their buses to go in all directions. If you were flying overhead when all the buses left the school, you would have thought it looked like a bunch of yellow ants leaving the anthill. With my arms full of books and a cake pan, I very tentatively asked Chase if I could sit with him. He picked up his book bag without saying a word. I was so nervous I could feel the sweat trickling down my back on that cold winter day. I didn’t want to bother him, so I sat staring straight ahead. Usually, I was very talkative with everyone, but it was Chase, he was the king. I saw that he was eyeing me out of the corner of my eye. Finally, I took a deep breath, “Do you want to say something?” I should have asked meekly but there was not a meek bone in my body. “I am just wondering if there is something in the cake pan you have sitting on your lap,” instead of being gruff he smiled at me. “Yes, I had to do a speech about France so I made a couple Buche de Noel to share with the class.” “A what?” “It is a cake made to celebrate the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. It’s from the Celts.” I was very chipper of course I was it had to do with France. Anyway, I was proud of myself for knowing all this information about a simple cake. Since he hadn’t stopped smiling at me that made me nervous. A smile shouldn’t make you nervous, it just was the way he was smiling. I continued talking, which was my forte other than baking. I started baking with my mom when I was five since she started working outside of the house. I have gradually started to bake more and sometimes made dinner. I was getting better because we were eating more of it than our dog, Rusty, though when I started Rusty wouldn’t even eat it. “Anyway, a Buche de Noel is like a Swiss roll. Do you know what a Swiss roll is?” “How old are you?” he asked, almost laughing at me. “Twelve? Why?” I said it like I had done something wrong. “You sound like you are way older. Do you have any left?” I was a little worried because if everyone asked, I wouldn’t have any left for my dad and I promised him a piece of cake. I guess I could just make a new one. “Yes.” I said timidly. “Can I taste this Buche de Noel?” I laughed at him butchering the pronunciation. I was thankful he laughed, “You have a great laugh,” he said leaning over to my ear in a low tone. I turned red. In a similar low tone I said, “Yes, but please don’t let anyone see because I don’t have enough for everyone, and I want to save a piece for my dad.” In a hushed tone he said, “Okay.” I snapped off the lid on the side closest to him and lifted it just enough that he could get his hand in and out without losing the slice of cake in his fist. He carefully took a bite with his head against the seat in front of him trying to hide that he had something. I watched patiently to see what he thought. I didn’t have to wait very long, and he turned his head and with his eyes open wide, “You made this?” I nodded my head. “This is very good.” Frank turned around, “What’s good? Do you have food?” Chase licked his lips very fast and lifted his head to confront Frank, “Clean out your ears! I said, ``It is good that she is going to move when the little kids get on the bus.” He gave me a look and winked with the eye that Frank couldn’t see. We talked the rest of the way to the elementary school about all the things I could bake. When I told him I could make a very good cherry pie he let me know that cherry pie was his favorite. I told him I would make him one someday. While walking up our drive, Tina was talking about her new dress for the eighth-grade winter dance this weekend. Mary Jane would be so upset when she saw Tina with heels and a dress that mom actually bought for her. I barely listened because I was thinking of Chase and how he thought I was the best baker he ever met. I knew that was saying a lot because I had his mom’s baked goods at the church picnic. He told me I should become a baker. I had been thinking I would like to become a chef someday. I watched the reruns of Julia Child’s show all the time and it didn’t look that hard. Cherish or Cherry Pie In the spring when I got on the bus all the high school boys were needling Chase, saying they knew he was a jock, but they didn’t know he had brains, too. Everyone knew he was a jock. My dad said Chase’s arm was like a rocket launcher. The football flew out of his arm and landed on the money, which I assumed meant the player caught the ball. Chase also played baseball. He was not the pitcher because his dad wanted him to play professional football instead. I didn’t know you could choose. Chase’s dad and my dad were good friends. Chase was being heckled on the bus which surprised me, no one picked him. I finally heard what they were teasing him about. Come to find out he was named Valedictorian of his class, so he was not only a jock but very smart. When I got off the bus, I had the nerve to speak to him. “Congratulations Chase,” was all I could muster. He gave me his captivating smile and thanked me. At dinner time, I told my mom and dad about Chase being the Valedictorian. My mom said he was the whole package. I asked what that meant and she said he was good looking, smart and an athlete. I guess he was just that. I suggested that I make him a celebratory cherry pie. My mom said that would be a nice gesture. Saturday morning, I got all the supplies together that I needed and made Chase a cherry pie. Mom drove me over to deliver it. I wanted to drop it off and run but mom wanted to visit with Mrs. Richards. I had to sit there while the two of them had a cup of coffee. I was thrilled to find out that all the boys were out working on the farm. I wanted to be nice nevertheless I knew I would be teased if the younger boys saw I baked a pie for Chase. When my mom told Mrs. Richards that we wanted to congratulate Chase with a pie. I was happy that it didn’t come across as me making it for Chase but the Deigert family congratulating Chase. Monday when the Richards boys got on the bus, they told Tina to thank my mom for the best pie ever. It was better than their own mom’s pies. I smiled to myself, but Tina blurted out, “Oh, my mom didn’t make the pie, Tessa did.” She was proud of me. Well, that sent the boys into an uproar. They started to tease me that I liked Chase. They were sitting in the seat behind me tormenting me except Chase who went back to his seat. After a few minutes of taking a bunch of jabs I stood up and I turned around putting my hands on my hips. I leaned forward enough to look like I was going to spit fire and said, “I thought I liked all of you but not anymore. If any of you ever do anything that deserves a pie you won’t be getting it from me!” I was not quite yelling though my voice was higher than usual. I saw Chase sitting in the back and he gave me a thumbs up. I turned back to the front and said in even a louder voice, “Though I doubt any of you could even spell Valedictorian let alone be one.” I sat down with a thud. Well, that shut them up. When Chase got off the bus he stopped at my seat and thanked me for the pie. I was thankful that his brothers were off the bus by the time he got to my seat. He told me I did a good job of handling his brothers. I thought I had to because he was no help. To me this great guy that everyone looked up to was knocked off his high perch as far as I was concerned. The issue was I had put him there. I decided he was just another guy with a big ego. A couple of days later I received a card thanking me for the delicious pie. I couldn’t believe he sent me a thank you card. That was very nice of him. I put it in my treasure box with my arrowheads and my rabbit's foot. Maybe Chase wasn’t that bad . Good Riddance Mrs. Richards called me one day and asked me if I would make a cake for Chase’s graduation party and some cookies. It felt weird talking to an adult about what flavors she wanted in a cake and what kind of cookies. I asked her how she knew I made cakes and cookies. She told me that my mom and dad have been bragging about me for years and all this time Mrs. Richards thought it was really my mom’s baking not mine. “When the boys came home and told me it was you who made the pie, I knew your parents had to be telling the truth.” I stood a little taller that day. I made a black forest cake, chocolate cherry cookies, peanut butter cookies and lemon sugar cookies. The black forest cake was the biggest cake I had ever made. Since I knew Chase liked cherries, I thought he would like that cake the best. Mrs. Richards ordered a chocolate cake: well that just wouldn’t do. It had to be special. We got to go to his graduation party. We drove up their long driveway, up on top of the hill where this grand house sat surrounded by trees. Everyone around here had gravel driveways though the Richards was made from white rocks which really looked so nice against the green grass. Our house was a simple farmhouse with gables and a big picture window in front with a really beaten-up screen door and a wooden screened-in porch to the side of the house. The Richards house was a huge two-story white house with pillars in the front. They had a circular driveway that let you off at their front door. The parking area next to their garage looked out onto a lake. If you wanted to park in their garage, you would drive behind the house. I was in awe of that house though I felt uncomfortable in it when I had my work clothes on but today, I had on a party dress as my mother called it. We arrived before the guests to help set up some chairs and, of course, put my cake and cookies on the table. I was nervous that something might be wrong with the cake. My dad taste tested all the cookies, so I knew they were good…well, he approved. He loved the new cookie that I made up. It was a chocolate cookie base with a maraschino cherry topped with a chocolate glaze. He said I will have to start making those cookies all the time. Mrs. Richards asked me to serve the cake, so I had to stand by the cake table the whole party, which was a drag unless someone took a bite of the cake in front of me and told me how good it was. I didn’t tell anyone that I made it. I just smiled and said I was glad they liked it. Chase came by with some of his friends and they took some cake plus enough cookies that their plates were like pyramids. He smiled at me but didn’t say anything…he was knocked down another peg. After a couple of hours of standing on my feet I begged my mom to let me walk home. It was only a couple of miles, and it was a beautiful evening. I only had to beg a little bit before she told me I had to be careful crossing the creek not to get my shoes wet or dirty. Tina wanted to stay and make gaga faces at all the boys. When Andy heard me say goodbye to Tina, he asked me if he could tag along because he was bored. Andy was the sweetest of all the Richards boys. I didn’t think the middle three were nice at all. They were kind of rough and mean if you asked me. We saw Chase and some of his friends out front and the hooting and hollering that was done while Andy and I walked down the road pissed me off. I tried not to have it bother me, nevertheless it did. I would never understand boys and teasing. I took off my socks and shoes to cross the creek. Andy jumped across. I thought about attempting that but figured if I slipped and fell, I would have Andy laughing at me and I couldn’t stand that at the moment. I had a lot of pent-up frustrations, more like anger. We started cutting through the fields to make the walk shorter. We made plans that when we got to my house, I would change my clothes, and we would play on my tire swing. Well, that didn’t happen. While I was stepping through some tall grass a copperhead struck my ankle. I let out a blood curdling scream that probably could have been heard at the Richards if someone had been listening. I told Andy to go back and tell my parents what happened, and I would meet them at the crossroad. We both knew I had to go to the doctor. I had never seen Andy run so fast. It wasn’t long before I saw our car come speeding down the gravel road with dust flying everywhere. I was sitting in the middle of the road because I wanted to make sure that I could see a snake coming at me. Nobody was happy with me, not even me. I knew I was to walk with a stick in the grass. It took me over a week to feel better. Chase sent me a get-well card along with a thank you for the best cake ever. He said it was better than the Noel cake. I was sure he just remembered the Noel part and not the Buche. He said he was going away to college and if I wanted to send him cookies, he wouldn’t mind, especially the chocolate ones with cherries. He added the lemon cookies were a close second. The thank you helped but it still bothered me the way he treated me or the way he let other people treat me. He had another thing coming if he thought I would make him cookies and send them to him at college. Friends in Low Places The next time I saw Chase was at Frank’s wedding. Tina and I were pretty sure Frank and Candace got caught doing it in her bedroom and her dad said they had to get married, or he was going to send Frank to jail because she was seventeen. Frank looked so unhappy during the ceremony and got drunk at the reception at the Richards home. Chase got drunk too. He was home from college. I was in ninth grade and Tina was in tenth. She was in heaven because there were two boys to every one girl. She never stopped dancing the whole night. Tina got all the best genes when it came to the body. She had all the curves in the right places. I was always told by the sweetest of my aunts that if I would lose ten to twenty pounds that all the boys would flock to me instead of Tina. I didn’t want a guy that bad. If they didn’t like me the way I was then they could just move on, that was my mantra. My mom would say it was my baby fat that made me adorable. Again, I was hired by the Richards to make petit fours, mini lemon meringue pies, and mini cheesecakes. My mom said it would be our gift to them. I thought that cheated Frank out of a gift, but I really didn’t see the marriage lasting after watching them at the wedding. I kept all the recipes simple for me because it was such a big order. I always hoped that one of these kinds of events would get me more jobs but when they found out it was a fourteen-year-old girl that made the desserts, they lost interest. I was standing out of the way just watching the dancing. Chase came up behind me and whispered in my ear, “The desserts are very good. Have you picked out the culinary school you will be going to?” I turned around to the smell of booze. I could hardly stand being so close to him. I stepped back and replied, “I am not sure where I am going to school.” Chased stepped forward and leaned in very close to my face. I was a little scared, but I was not going to show it. He started to sway a little and asked, “Do you want to dance with me?” I did not like Chase the older I got. “No, I don’t dance.” Which was a little bit of a lie. I loved to dance but I only danced on my own or with my girlfriends. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He tried to pull me by the hand onto the dance floor. He bumped into some guy I didn’t know, the guy turned around and pushed Chase. Chase then fell into someone else and then all hell broke loose. A big fight ensued. My dad was just walking in from outside and saw what was happening. He grabbed my sister and me then shoved us at our mom. He ran back and started grabbing guys and tossing them to the side. My dad was a big guy and nobody tangled with him. Mr. Richard then took a shovel from the fireplace and started hitting guys over the head that wouldn’t stop fighting. It was kind of comical, but I didn’t dare laugh, though on the way home everyone in our car was laughing about it. A couple of days later I got a card from Chase saying he was sorry for his behavior. He just couldn’t stand how Frank was making the biggest mistake of his life and used alcohol to deaden the pain of the day. I didn’t know why he was writing an apology to me. He should be writing one to his parents. Teenage Dream In my sophomore year my life changed for what I thought was the best thing ever. In Biology class I realized that we were ruining our earth with all these pesticides. I begged my dad to let me have a part of our land between where I got the snake bite and the river to try my hand at organic farming. The field where Andy and I walked across was already organic. It was our hay field so I knew I would not have to worry about the pesticides floating over my organic ground. It wasn’t hard to convince him. He was thrilled I took an interest in farming. He told me that I would have to do everything myself. We had a discussion of what it would take to become an organic farmer. My mom took part in our conversation. Years later she told me the reason why she wanted to be a part of the discussion was she didn’t want my dad to make it out harder than it would be. She made sure I really understood what would be required of me. I knew it was going to take years to be certified as organic, but I could let people know I was not using pesticides or chemical fertilizer on my plants. I have worked on our farm since I was a little girl and loved it. I thought that was why my dad agreed to let me take on all the responsibility of working our land. My mom really got behind it and helped me do research on how to proceed. She even found a farmer’s market in St. Louis where we could take our produce. I made a sign that said we were in transition to becoming an organic farm and this year’s crop was not treated with chemicals. We did well enough that mom wanted to do it again next summer. She could tell I was already into it one hundred percent. I was in heaven as some people say. I loved planting and taking care of the plants. I took pictures of some of my fruit, like they were my babies. That was when my mom realized that this was my true calling. We met some lovely people there and got to try some great barbeque at a restaurant nearby. Mom and I saw what people were paying for organic berries so we decided we would plant some black raspberries, more blackberries and red raspberries. Organic farming was not for the faint of heart. I thought I was working harder than I was before. I joined the FFA, Future Farmers of America. In the spring our advisor coaxed me into making a presentation at the state fair. I felt so honored to be asked. Since I was going anyway, I thought I would enter a few baking contests. I entered my best blackberry cobbler, sour cherry pie and ‘The Best Chocolate Chip Cookie’ contest in which I added almond extract, dried sour cherries and chopped candied almonds to offset the sour cherries. I was pleased to win first place for my sour cherry pie and took third with my cookie recipe. I didn’t pack the house for my presentation, though the people that were there told me I did a good job. Even a couple of people asked me if I could point them in the right direction to become organic certified. That lifted my spirits because I was responsible for changing people’s minds. For a minute I thought I could do it for a living, trying to change people's minds about using pesticides. I got asked out more in my junior year of high school than any year. I got more form to my body the summer between sophomore and junior year. Tina gave me her old clothes to wear instead of wearing jeans and a jean shirt. I did something with my unruly hair, too. I also started wearing makeup. Tina was always on me to make myself look better. Her mantra was if you didn’t look good you didn’t feel good. Sometimes on the end of that she would add about yourself. I did feel better when I looked nice. The issue I had was working on the farm. It was hard to look good all the time. The one important thing I learned while I was in the FFA was that kids on dairy farms had it rough. I felt for those kids. My friend, Alison, had to get up so early to milk before school. I was glad we didn’t get into dairy farming because those people don’t have a life. You couldn’t take a day off if you just didn’t feel well. Those cows want to be milked morning and night. My vegetables didn’t require me to get up early. I had been known to pick my vegetables at night to make dinner. I found dating not worth all the work. My understanding of the purpose of dating was to have fun with someone, right? Well, that was what I thought. I was spending my time with a guy, and he would be telling me about someone we knew and how he was so much better than him, bragging how he was way better at whatever sport they were playing, or my date was trying to go all the way on our first date. None of that interested me and they were not interested in getting to know me. She’s in Love with a Boy My parents told Tina she had to go to a year of community college before they would allow her to marry her high school sweetheart Greg. My parents said Greg had to go to some sort of college, too. Tina visited the community college and after talking to a couple of teachers decided that she wanted to go away to college. My parents were thrilled that she fell in love with the idea of going away to school instead. She applied to several colleges in Missouri and got a scholarship that helped pave the way. That surprised all of us because it looked like she wanted to go to all four years to earn a degree. That was news to Greg and he didn’t like that idea at all. In fact, he was very upset with Tina. He told Tina if she went away to college he might not be here when she got back. As it turned out, Tina was fine with that because when the fall break came around, she brought home Scott. Scott was from St. Louis and had never been on a farm. It was love at first sight…Scott and the farm. It took a little more time for Tina and Scott to fall in love. He was so excited by everything. My parents were astounded by Scott, he seemed more excited about where Tina lived than he was with her. At the dinner table the conversation centered on what mom and I were doing. Scott was a biology major, and organic farming really interested him. Tina hung onto every word he said. The funny thing was she started to have an interest in what we were doing, too. It was like a light had gone on in her head about other things in life besides men and how she looked. When Tina and Scott left to go back to school all of us decided that this guy was a keeper. We didn’t know if Scott was the reason for Tina’s change or going to college. Either way mom and dad were happy. Dating my senior year really tapered off to just going out with a group of people and having a fun time. Really, I hung out with FFA people because we were all interested in farming. I even persuaded a few to try their hand at organic farming. Not everyone had a great support system like I did. I felt so blessed to have my family take an interest in what I did. So far dad hasn’t gone totally organic, but I haven’t given up hope that he would someday. My Girl Gab Richards got a girl pregnant, and the Richards had a quick wedding. Mrs. Richards hired me to make the wedding cake and some appetizers for the little reception they were having. It was my first wedding cake, and I was excited. It was going to be a simple wedding cake flavored with vanilla and almond extract with a butter batter. She wanted a raspberry filling. The frosting was a vanilla Italian buttercream with little pearls around the edges. The bride’s family was roasting a pig, so she wanted my appetizers to be a simple pick up with your fingers, kind of thing. I made stuffed mushrooms, mini cream puffs filled with chicken salad and mini quiche for the vegetarians. She was going to put out sliced cheese, salami, and assorted vegetables with a dip. The disdain in Mrs. Richards’ voice when she told me the bride’s family was bringing baked beans, potato salad, apple sauce and corn bread told me not to say “that sounds good” when she finished. I arrived early in the morning to bring the cake. I was surprised how they have added onto the house. I guess the only son to leave was Chase. Frank and his wife and their little brat were living over where the garage used to be. They made the garage into a large family room. They added a huge garage at the backside of the house. Six large vehicles could fit into that garage, it was so big. I was to set up the cake table in the new family room. I had everything looking just right when I turned around and saw Chase in his boxer shorts and a T-shirt. “What happened to my little girl?” The former me would have turned red by that comment but hanging around a bunch of guys in FFA had taught me to blow off comments besides, I thought that statement was a little weird. I gave my best nonchalant smile, “Hi Chase. I see you have dressed for breakfast.” That made him self-conscious, which pleased me. “Sorry I didn’t know we were having company.” I said a little flippant, “I am not company. I am the hired help.” Chase put on a serious smile, “So where are you going to culinary school?” “I am not going to culinary school. I am going to Mizzou for an agriculture degree.” I was proud of my decision. “Tell me you are not going to hang around here?” He said, with a look of exasperation. “I love it here. I have started an organic farm on part of my dad’s property. Every year I add more land.” Again, I was proud to be a successful organic farmer. I had to stand up to what I believed in. “My parents told me about you. They think you are nuts.” Chase was such a smart aleck. “Well, I am not the Valedictorian that you were, but I did graduate last week fifth in my class and got a full ride to Mizzou. So, if I am nuts then so be it.” I smiled and walked past him. “Tell your mom I will be back an hour before the reception please.” Chase yelled after me, “You still owe me a dance.” I left feeling good and if Chase thought I would dance with him he was going to have a rude awakening. I returned at the said hour dressed in a classic black dress and a pair of high heels. After an hour of standing, I wished I had worn flats. Now Chase was in a very nice dark blue suit and starched white shirt. He came up behind me and whispered, “You are making a mistake not going to culinary school.” I answered flatly, “Thanks but I think I know what is right for me.” I turned to face him. This time he wasn’t drunk. “So, no drinking to Gab and him making the biggest mistake of his life?” I saw him cringe…good. “No, I have given up on my brothers. Well, maybe not Andy, he still has some sweetness in him. This time I think Gab is happy – just look at him. He is all smiles. Now, take a look at Frank, he is the poster child for bitterness.” My eyes moved from Gab with his arm around Amelia to Frank and saw the harshness in his eyes. It looked like Frank was looking at Gab and hating him for being happy. Well, that was what it looked like from here. Gab and Amelia were a good-looking couple and I bet they would have beautiful children together. Frank’s wife Candice was nowhere to be seen. I bet she was upstairs with their little one, Frank Jr. He was a little brat if there ever was one. Mom said when she came over here Frankie ruled the roost and was a little terror. Chase broke my train of thought, “How about that dance you owe me?” He smiled at me, then held out his hand for mine. “Well, the funny thing is there is no one dancing. Besides, I told you I don’t dance.” He took a hold of my hand and said, “Please come with me.” I didn’t know why but I didn’t resist. I knew why because he said it in a sexy voice. We walked outside where most of the bride’s family were gathered around the pig though some people were dancing to the music they were playing. “This is where the fun and action is happening.” He swung me around and pulled me towards him. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Just a second,” the pout on his face was adorable. “I have to take these shoes off; they are killing me.” Oh, we had fun dancing with everyone outside. That was more to my liking. Someone called out, let's do a square dance and he started calling out moves. I didn’t think I laughed that much in a long time. Dancing barefoot in the Richards yard was a treat to the feet. I didn’t know how much fertilizer they used to get grass to feel like carpet. I hoped they didn’t eat the fish they pulled out of their lake. It was getting late, and people were going inside to eat dinner. I went to sit down (more like I flopped down) on the little hill at the edge of the woods. Chase followed with his suit jacket in hand. I started the conversation, “Where are you living these days?” “New York,” he said a little out of breath. “Wow, that is pretty far from this farm. You ran as fast as you could to get away from this place.” “I had to get away from this life to see what was out there. Aren’t you a little curious to see the world?” “Maybe to go on vacation but really the beauty of this area can’t be beat.” He made a huffing noise of disapproval. “Hey, I watch the travel channel.” “That is literally watching the world go by through a window,” he chuckled. “Well, in a couple of weeks I will be flying to Paris. Do you know about this city? It happens to be in France.” I said a little bit snooty. “Ooh la la,” he shook his hand to exaggerate how little he was impressed. “Have you been to Paris?” It made me curious a guy who wanted to see the world and I bet he had only seen New York. “No, but I could if I wanted to.” Chase sounded like a little kid. I stood up, “Then don’t mock me until you have.” I walked off with Chase calling after me. It was time to cut the cake and serve it. As soon as I was finished, I collected my trays and put them in my truck and didn’t look back. I didn’t think I would be doing any more business with the Richards. I knew Chase wouldn’t be getting married and Louis was too smart to get caught by someone wanting to get married. I was betting Andy would do it right where the bride’s family took care of the reception. In a couple of days, I got a postcard from New York saying, ‘New York has everything Paris has and more. Come visit and I will show you around, Chase.’ Mon Amour, Mon Ami (My Love, My Friend) I was so excited to go to Paris with my French class. It was my graduation present. My mom had promised to look after the garden and she would take the lettuces, the strawberries and the herbs that were ready to the farmer’s market the weekends that I was gone. I found myself in total awe of everything I saw and ate. I really needed to work on my pastry skills after eating my first croissant. We spent the whole day in the Louvre Museum. I lost count of all the paintings I had seen on my trip. I couldn’t believe I saw all those famous paintings in person. My favorite part of the day was eating. Who wouldn’t want to eat French food? I could have spent the whole day eating. I got the idea of raising goats while in France and started to do research in the hotel then I sent the information to my mom. The next day my mom sent me an email asking why was I spending all my time doing research when I should be sightseeing. The following day I sent her a picture of me at the top of the Eiffel tower. We spent a week in Paris and a week-long trip touring around the countryside. It was so beautiful. There were flowers everywhere and the smell of lavender filled the air as they were just starting to bloom. I took a selfie with the background of thousands of sunflowers at one stop. They were just starting to open up and the sun was in the right direction for them all facing my back as I took the picture. It was my favorite picture I took on the trip and put it as my screensaver on my computer. The part of the picture with me was covered up with all my icons that didn’t matter because what I really wanted to see was the sunflowers and that bright blue sky. When we went to the castles in Sant Malo and Brest they were a highlight of the trip for the guys. Knowing that the pirates had a base in Sant Malo excited them more than me getting to eat cheese and bread in France. I thought the castles were beautiful, especially the one in Sant Malo. The water was so clear and blue. What I found entertaining was that it took me to go over four thousand miles to see the Atlantic Ocean when I could have driven to see it in less than a thousand miles. Vegetables When I got home, I had a lot of work to do to keep the bugs and blight away from my plants. The weekly trips to St. Louis were a treat, literally a treat. We have one restaurant close by our farm, the Crow’s Nest was nothing to write home about. It was a greasy spoon, and the spoons were usually greasy. Mom and I made a big deal out of it finding somewhere special eat. We picked a new place for lunch which was our excitement for the week. We always brought back something special from St. Louis for dad, so he was loving my enterprise. Tina wasn’t into extravagant food as she put it. After the first couple times we stopped bringing her food because mom wasn’t happy that dad was eating what Tina didn’t want. That summer I expanded my entrepreneurship by adding bread to our stall. I had seen people pay top dollar for a good loaf of bread and I thought I could compete with the best of them when making bread. I made two kinds: a French baguette and a hearty whole wheat bread. The first time I brought a couple dozen of each, and I sold out in an hour. The truth was that the vendors around us bought most of them. They told me that I had to bring bread every week from now on. I bought a convection oven for our stall and brought enough dough to double the number of loaves and baked them in our stall. The oven was a pain to hall to our stall each week, but it was worth it. By the end of the season, people were coming up to us saying they would miss having fresh baked bread on Saturdays. Mom and I figured out that it would be too costly to bake bread and deliver it here each week during the off season, so that was out of the question. Plus, I was starting college and when I came home, I would need to attend to my garden. When you live in a farming community you hear about everyone personal business usually at the general store or the post office. We heard our neighbor Mrs. Preston had cancer. Mom suggested that I make her some chicken soup or some broth. She had heard Mrs. Preston was having trouble keeping her food down. The chemo was making her so sick. I went to work making Mrs. Preston both chicken soup and a chicken and vegetable stock. There were just as many vegetables in the stock as there were chicken bones and meat. I did a good job of straining the stock so if she just wanted something light the stock would fit the bill. I thought it tasted good, nevertheless I wasn’t sure if it would stay down. I made some cookies as well because Mr. Preston had commented on them when I made them for Frank’s wedding. I headed out very satisfied with my collection of organic soup, stocks plus nonorganic cookies. I hadn’t gone that far over on having everything organic yet. It was hard to find organic stuff at our grocery store. I thought it would be cool to get to that point though. When I was crossing over the creek and heading up the hill, I could just see the Richards’ massive home from the road. I definitely could see their green grass. It saddened me that I knew their runoff of chemicals was polluting our creek and river. Mr. Preston’s property was on the north side of the road from the Richards’ property and at the top of the hill his property was on both sides of the street. Mr. Preston did not have a huge production of corn and soybeans, but it was his farm, not a corporation. I detested that we had a couple corporations around here because they were ruining the land. The thought of what was polluting creeks and rivers would just rile me to the bone. Mr. Preston used herbicides and pesticides: all the stuff I was against, though when one of your neighbors was sick you helped them out or brought them chicken soup. It wasn’t a full forty-eight hours before Mr. Preston was at my house asking if I would mind making his wife more stock. It was the first thing she had kept food down in a month. I had seen she had lost weight at my visit and it was difficult for me to look at her when she talked. I told Mr. Preston that it was because it was all organic. I didn’t know if that was the truth, but I thought it was true or I wanted it to be true. Some of the reason could be that our vegetables tasted so much better than what you get at the grocery store. I knew our chicken tasted better than anything I had elsewhere. He sat in my kitchen and talked to me about what it took to become an organic farmer. I started to make enough soup to last a week for Mrs. Preston. She couldn’t get over how good it tasted, he said. Scott told him that it was because I made it. I assured him it was because it was organic. Scott had come for a visit and was listening to our conversation and would add a tidbit here and there. Scott was getting to know as much as me. After his first visit he started doing his own research on organic farming. He had even looked up some grants that I could apply for. I hoped and prayed that Tina and Scott would never break up. When everything was packed up, he laid two twenty-dollar bills down on the table and said he didn't know how much he should pay for the information he received. He asked if he had any questions, could he come by again? I told him the soup and the information were free and tried to hand him back his money. He wouldn’t take it and said if I didn’t take it, he wouldn’t ask us for help again. I pocketed the money. I felt bad for him because he felt that he was the one who made his wife sick. Their beautiful old farmhouse sat not twenty feet in any direction from the area where he sprayed all that poison. Their barn sat right up against the field. There was no wasted space. I bet their own home garden got some of the spray since it sat up against the field, too. The Freshman I was ready to go to Mizzou and everything was packed when Tina came into my room to talk to me about what to expect from guys in college. I didn’t think they were any different than they were in high school. She told me to always travel around campus with a couple of girls: the more the better. I thought it was funny and she told me to stop laughing she was serious. Our schools were not far from each other. A few hours were all, but I would miss seeing her. The past year I had mom and dad to keep me company, which helped. When I was missing her terribly, I would go in her room and call her…texting wouldn’t do. I didn’t know what we were going to do when she got married and moved away. I didn’t know if Scott was the one, but their relationship was the longest she had been with one guy. This past summer she would hitch a ride with us and spend the day with Scott then he would bring her home late at night. Sometimes when we woke up on Sunday, we found him sleeping on our family room couch. Mom finally told them that if he were going to spend the night that Tina should sleep with me and he could have her room. By August, he had pretty much moved in on the weekend, coming out on Friday and leaving Monday morning for work. He worked in his dad’s law office as a secretary though he called himself a clerk. His dad knew Scott didn’t want to become a lawyer, but I thought Mr. Turner was hoping if Scott hung around the office, he might want to become one. I knew Scott wanted to be a farmer. It was just that Scott didn’t know it yet. Scott talked about how he felt out here, and I knew that was the same feeling I got when I came back from St. Louis. Dad was showing Scott what it took to be a farmer, and mom and I were showing Scott what it took to be an organic farmer, which he loved. He helped me do all kinds of jobs from spraying the plants with pepper spray in hope of getting rid of the insects and maybe the bunnies would stop eating the produce. We might have one Mexican bunny because he keeps eating one head of lettuce that I keep spraying with hot sauce. Scott had helped me build tunnels for more than just the tomato and pepper plants. We have added some tunnels for my berries too. While I was in college, I went home most weekends to work on my gardens, or should I say my farm. I had a lot to do cutting out the old canes of black raspberries, raspberries and blackberries. I trimmed the fruit trees because I was training them in the espalier style. I wanted them to be flat trees like a trellis. It was an ancient way of producing more fruit and keeping the dead wood out. My dad only allotted me so much land, so I had to make the best of it. I was growing them along guard wires around the outline of the lettuce garden. The lettuce only needed five hours of light, and the trees would help to keep the lettuce cooler. Hot sun and temperature make for wilted lettuce. The only good, wilted lettuce was with bacon, vinegar and sugar. On a beautiful fall day, I stopped by Mr. Preston’s to see how his wife was doing and I brought a big pot of chicken soup. I was checking to see if he had any questions and to be honest, I wanted to check if he was getting frustrated with the process of changing over to being organic. We talked about his process of changing over his land. Mrs. Preston was doing better and was as interested in converting to an organic farm as well as Mr. Preston. She was looking so much better, and she had just finished having her chemo treatments. Now, she just had to get checked every so often. They both had a positive attitude that she was cancer free now. I prayed she was cancer free as well. I brought over a book that I had used in one of my classes for them to read. I was feeling good about what he had started to convert already. I really liked them, and they seemed to like me. I felt like our dynamic had changed. We sat and talked about my classes and what I was doing at the percent time on the farm. I knew I already had grandparents but maybe I could treat them like a great aunt and uncle. We had always seen each other at church functions, town festivals or neighbors’ parties but this experience of bringing Mrs. Preston soup and talking about what it meant to be an organic farmer had brought us to another level of connection. I was getting to know them on an adult level, and they treated me like an adult, which was so nice. I had decided to major in Agribusiness management and minor in Agricultural systems technology before I started college. At orientation, I talked to a great advisor then she sent me over to the departments to talk to a couple of professors. I wasn’t interested in doing an internship because I already had my own farm. I didn’t know what they said to all the prospective students but they both said they looked forward to having me in class. They both thought I had a good plan set up and were a little nervous that I was putting too much on my plate. I assured them that I was a serious student and wanted to get the most out of my college experience. I took a test to see if I could test out of any French classes. I was happy that I tested out of both first year’s classes. The person who gave me the exam said I was just points from testing out of the first three semesters. I might be getting ahead of myself, but I might have two minors, the second one being French. I loved everything French. Shoot my bedroom had a French theme with a picture of the Eiffel Tower hanging over my bed. I planned on decorating my dorm the same way. My mom bought me a bedspread with the Eiffel Tower, French stamps, the word “Paris” and all things French. I definitely was a Francophile. Sticking with my French theme I decided to take classes in the culinary arts and hone my skills on becoming a real chef. I had to learn how to make some of the food that I had on my trip to France. I was taking an overload and wasn’t worried about it. Cooking had become a passion. I loved baking but cooking the main dishes was so much more exciting. Our weekly honors meetings to discuss a book we were all reading was one of the highlights of my week. I wanted to do something besides studying which was the biggest percentage of my awake time. I knew I didn’t want to join the running group. That was too hard on my body. So, I took up walking with a group of walkers. Walking was fun and I could talk and meet people doing it. I met a young man who had gotten hurt his senior year in high school playing football and walking was the only activity his body could handle at this point. Jonah was a nice guy, and I thought we would have fun on a date so I finally asked him if he would want to go to a movie with me. We had a great time and started to see each other more often outside the walking group. By the end of the school year, he was able to start with the running group. Neither one of us said anything about getting together during the summer. I think we used each other for a fun time when we needed a break from our studies. Jonah was as dedicated to his studies as I was. I thought he would make a great doctor. He had a passion and a compassion that would make him an exceptional doctor. Plus, he had a sense of humor that would put his patients at ease if they got sick. The Sunday before the end of the year of my freshman finals, Mrs. Richards died of ovarian cancer. After she was diagnosed, she only lived for a couple of months. Her funeral was the day of one of my finals and I had to do a presentation, which was more or less a part of my final for the class. There was no way I could responsibly miss these finals for a woman that I only saw a few times a year. She always wanted to entertain at her house, so mom and dad went there. Mom was thrilled she didn’t have to worry about what condition our house was in. I used our screened in porch for plantings as well as our sunroom. Either way when you came into our house you smelled dirt unless I was baking, then the smells were something delicious. I wrote Chase a letter telling him I was sorry for the loss of his mom and apologized for missing the funeral and the reason why. I told him a couple of special stories about her that were triggered when I made a cherry pie or had vanilla cake. I wrote a nice note to Mr. Richards, too. I didn’t feel I had to write to all the brothers since they still lived at home. When I got home, I had a letter from Chase thanking me for thinking of him and the kind words I said about his mom. He understood why I wasn’t there, which made me feel better about missing the funeral. My first year of college I kept my scholarship, and I made the Dean’s list. I had heard of the freshman fifteen. Most freshmen came home having gained weight in the first year. I lost fifteen. My mom was so worried because I had lost so much but I assured her that I ate. I just never got used to the food and I talked too much while I sat with friends. Really they were my study partners who valued food more than studying. I was usually late for dinner so I ate what I could and left. I really didn’t feel like I had tried to lose weight, it just was a happy coincidence. At the end of her sophomore year, Tina had decided to become a teacher like mom. My mom was honored and happy that she finally decided what she wanted to do. My disappointment was she was behind in getting all the requirements fulfilled in two more years, so she stayed at school to do two summer terms. To my dismay, we only saw Scott and her occasionally until August. Then Scott almost moved in. My dad said we should just add his name to the mailbox. We teased dad on how old he was because nobody got mail anymore. The statement brought me to thoughts of Chase. He must have an old soul since he wrote letters. Power of Two Thinking Out Loud The day I arrived home after my freshman year, I was so excited I talked nonstop to my parents about what my exams were like and what I was going to start to do on the farm. Both of them begged me to eat something and I realized they just wanted me to stop talking. The both laughed when I told them what I thought and they said maybe. I slept twelve hours straight that first night. That would be the last day I wouldn’t set an alarm. I didn’t have time to relax because my garden needed to be tended to. I say garden but it was acres and acres of vegetables. My mom did as much as she could though my land needed more than one person to take care of it. It was getting so big I could use another person or two. I would hire kids around my area to help when it was crunch time. When I was in need of people to pick the fruits and vegetables before I went to the farmers market, I would hire a couple of kids from town who didn't have jobs. Our town only had a general store and a post office so usually kids had to drive to the next town which only has a few more job options, or some would ask farmers if they needed help. I had a few young kids who would ride their horses to my place when they wanted pocket money. I was happy for the cheap labor. I realized that if I wanted some of them to stick around, I was going to have to be willing to make working worth their while. My thoughts kept coming back to I needed to find someone who loved the land as much as I did. Life was so busy working I didn’t even know what end was up sometimes. I took an online class during the first summer session. I wish I would have thought to take another class during the second summer session because it would have made my life a little easier during the school year. I liked the online class because I could work at my own speed. I finished before the deadline and thought that was easy. I was sitting at the table with my laptop working on my class schedule for the rest of my college career when Scott plopped down next to me. I could tell he wanted to talk so I finished up my work and saved it. “What’s up?” I said looking at him dead on. “I don’t want to bother you, but I have been thinking about your plan with your business. Do you mind if we go into some detail about where you are heading?” “Sure, though I think we have really talked my plan to death. Scott just come out and tell me is there something wrong with my plan? You can tell me. I am a big girl and I can take it.” I leaned in to show him I was open to whatever he had to tell me. He has been nothing but helpful since the day we met. “I really think, if you want to expand what you are doing, that you need someone working for you besides your mom. Would you be interested in hiring me?” He hesitated a little, “You know that I graduate next year, and I think I have something to offer you in your business. Maybe you would be interested in a partner?” I was nineteen years old, and I had someone who wanted to be my partner because he liked what I was doing. The feeling I had when he suggested him being my partner got me all excited. I just said over and over, “YES!” My dad came in from the barn and my mom came down the hall when I was saying yes. I explained what happened very quickly and my mom was saying yes just as much as I did. Both my parents were so happy because they saw that I had the potential for making a good living being an organic farmer, but it was going to kill me before I got started. I definitely needed more than just my mom to help me. Since Tina was sleeping in as she did every Saturday morning in August, I was making breakfast for everyone else. If we waited until Tina got up, we would be eating lunch. We finished eating and were sitting around the table talking about my classes for next year and Scott was all antsy. Finally, he spoke up. “Mr. Deigert, I would like your permission to marry your daughter.” Mom and dad looked at each other and smiled. I guess they really liked him. “Scott, do you really love her?” “Mr. Deigert, I never imagined love could be like this. Yes, sir with my whole heart. The only issue I have is whether I will make enough money for us to live on. I want to farm like you. Well, more like Tessa. Sir, I think Tessa and I could take her ideas and run with them. We just need more land as I see it.” These were the words I wanted to say but had been afraid to approach my dad until I graduated. Maybe having a partner who spoke his mind was not a bad thing. “Well, Scott, I have been thinking about all the changes Tessa has made and thought I am getting too old to change all of my ways. Her mom and I have been thinking when Tessa graduates, we will give her this house and all of my acres and move in with my mom and just farm her land.” My mouth dropped and I was at a loss for words for a change. When mom and dad got married grandpa split his land and gave dad half of it. They still farmed together but mom and dad were responsible for the taxes and upkeep of their land. Dad’s sisters had no interest in farming and had moved away. Aunt May lived in Florida and Aunt June lived in California. We rarely saw them. “How about this? I give the land to Tessa and Tina will get the house that way you will always have a roof over your head. You will never be able to sell it though unless Tessa says it is okay. Of course, Tessa can live here until she builds her own house somewhere on this land.” “Mr. Deigert, that is very generous of you. Tessa, are you okay with this?” “Scott I can’t wait until you marry Tina and get her out of my bed. Just to warn you, she hogs the covers. Other than that, she is great. I think we will be great partners.” Scott got up and hugged me. Mom and dad, not wanting to be left out, got up to hug Scott and me. We were all hugging when Tina came into the kitchen. “What am I missing out on? Why are you all hugging?” I didn’t know what Scott’s plan was, so I spoke up. “Scott and I are becoming business partners.” “Scott, you finally asked her. Oh, Tessa he will be such a hard worker just wait and see.” Tina came up and gave Scott a hug and then turned and gave me a hug. I smiled at Scott, and he shook his head no like don’t worry about it. Then I saw him pull a ring box out of his jeans and he got down on one knee. I turned Tina around to face Scott. “Tina, I have thought long and hard how I would ask the love of my life to marry me. I thought she would want her sister and parents around and I hope I am right. Tina Louise Deigert, would you do me the honor of marrying me and making my life complete?” The squeal probably was heard all the way down to the Richards and Grandma’s. “Yes, yes, yes,” was all that was coming out of her mouth. I was so happy for them…for me too. I was getting a brother and a partner. I thought my life was pretty good. Tina on the other hand was worried about me. Later that night as we were going to bed Tina begged me to find someone so we could have our children together. “Aren’t you lonely? You don’t have someone to share your life with, Tessa. Please start dating, for me.” “First, I am not lonely. I don’t have time to be lonely. I am working my butt off at school and when I come home, I don’t stop. Second, I share my life with you. I don’t think I have gone a day without texting or talking to you. Don’t forget I went out on dates with Jonah.” The nudge I got from her told me she knew there was nothing going on between the two of us. “Okay, I will think about dating if it makes you happy.” Tina pulled the covers off me which made me take my pillow and hit her. That action started a pillow fight like we had when we were younger. We were making so much noise that dad opened our door to see if we were okay. He yelled to my mom, “Honey our girls have gone nuts.” Tina swung her pillow and hit him in the gut. Dad left the room and brought back his pillow, and mom came running in after him with her pillow not wanting to be left out of our family pillow fight. Mom finally said, “We give up.” Scott was leaning on the door watching us and we hadn’t even noticed him standing there. “I love this family.” As dad past Scott, dad hit him on the back of his head with a pillow. “Welcome to the family Scott.” Life goes on My sophomore year I decided I could graduate early if I took just one more class a semester and a few online classes in the summer. I could take the online at home as long as the internet didn’t get interrupted. I only had a few issues so as long as I stayed ahead of deadlines, I should be good. Maybe I could talk my dad into a better service. My advisor was against the overload, but because some of my classes could be credits for both my major and minor, I thought that would help me graduate earlier. I still wanted to take classes in the culinary arts, and I wondered if I could get my associate degree so I would have the credentials for being a chef. I really didn’t need the business part because I was already working on my business in agriculture. I really thought my culinary classes were my extracurricular activity. To be honest with myself everything was so easy for me. I just had to put the work in to get the degree so businesspeople would take me seriously when I talk to them about my products. Some weeks seemed to blend together. I didn’t know how I did it, but I was still making the dean’s list at winter break. I knew I was going to go home and sleep for a week. Tina and Scott came home for part of the break and spent a good deal with Scott’s dad. I apologized to Scott because I had missed his mom’s funeral. Mrs. Turner died after a massive heart attack. I had an exam that was a fourth of my grade and my parents told me that since I had never met her to just send Scott and Mr. Turner a card telling how sorry I was to miss her celebration of life. That was what they called it because she was always the life of the party. Mom and Dad invited Mr. Turner to our house for Christmas dinner. He and his wife had never come out to the farm before. Mr. Turner was always too busy to come. Well, Scott insisted that his dad had to at least come out to the farm for dinner. I thought it was my duty to make it the best Christmas dinner ever. I had picked up a few tips from my classes and was ready for a Christmas dinner gathering.My dad’s words were ‘my, you have put on a spread here.’ I went all out to make a fabulous dinner with table decorations and all. We started with a butternut squash soup. The butternuts were from my garden. I made a standing rib roast, garlic smashed potatoes and green beans, with a Caesar salad, homemade dinner rolls and for dessert I made a buche de noel. When I was cutting the dessert, I thought about Chase as I do every time I made it. I wondered what he was doing or where he was living? Mr. Turner was very impressed with the dinner. He suggested that I could open up my own restaurant if I wanted to give up the farm. Everyone laughed because they knew my answer…never. I would never give up on my farm. It hurt me to be at school and being away from it. We made a ton of food during the holiday. Mr. Turner kept telling me to call him Scott, which I couldn’t do. It was too weird. He called our Scott, Scottie. He was not a Scottie to me or anyone else. Mr. Turner was so happy to be with us, but you could see the strain on his face if someone brought up Mrs. Turner’s name. I felt bad for him. Since Scott wanted to live out here instead of staying with his dad that added to his pain. I knew being an only child had to be hard on Scott. I didn’t know what I would do without Tina. I knew my parents had us later in life. Dad always said he couldn’t get married because he was waiting for our mom to come to him. Mom came to our part of the world to start over. She had been married to a man who had died in a car accident. She met my dad at our church social because one of the other teachers invited her. It was love at first sight for my dad. It took my mom a little while to warm up to idea of getting married again. I was sure they would have had more children if they had met earlier. It was kind of sad because they were the best parents. My spring semester went by in a flash. My mom was so worried about me because I looked awful. She didn’t say awful, but I could see myself in the mirror and knew that it was true. If I didn’t come home on the weekends, I would never have sunshine on my face. I had not kept my promise to Tina. I did not have one date the whole school year. I saw Jonah once in the library and we talked for a half hour. Maybe I could say that it was a date. I promised I would do better in my last year. We all went to Scott’s graduation which was fun. My parents spent the night in a hotel, and you would have thought they were on their honeymoon. It was so cute to see them having fun and flirting with each other. I hoped I could have that someday. Flirting was so much fun. I just hoped you didn’t lose the ability to flirt if you didn’t use it. I slept in my sister’s dorm room. She was taking summer classes again so she could graduate next year. She was a little jealous that I knew what I wanted before I started college, and now I would graduate with her. I just hoped they were not on the same day because I didn’t want to miss seeing her get her diploma. We all went out to a fancy restaurant and Mr. Turner was so nice because he said my food was so much better. I was just glad he paid the bill. He didn’t like that we all ordered the cheapest thing on the menu. He kept saying, “I said I was paying for this dinner, and I want you to get what you want.” To make up for it he ordered a bunch of appetizers. Tina ended up with part of mine and mom’s dinner to take back to the dorm. Three little birds Scott and I came back to the farm after his graduation and started working on a plan for what we wanted to accomplish in the next five years. I told him I couldn’t plan much farther and we could revisit our plan in a couple of years if we felt like we were going in the wrong direction. I had to admit I didn’t like changing horses in midstream. It was one of my flaws. We decided to add a few animals to the farm. Scott wanted to add Pekin ducks to the mix because their meat was the preferred duck meat and he was confident that we could start supplying a few restaurants and if it were profitable, we could add a larger flock. We had a lake and a couple of ponds around the barn and since the cows were moved a few years ago to grandma’s property both of the ponds were looking a lot healthier. The lake was behind the house, so the cows never were bathing or doing other stuff in it. Scott professed, “Tessa, I have done my research I promise you. I think they will provide more income than expenses by far. There is some time that has to be spent when they are hatched and for the first three months but after that if we train them where their habitat is they take care of themselves.” “Train them? You want us to train the ducks?” “Oh, these ducks learn a routine and they want to stick to that routine. If I get everything set up, we won’t have a problem.” “You know I won’t be back full time until next year. Do you think you can handle getting everything ready?” “Yes, I can work on the pens and shelters for the emus at the same time.” “Did your dad look over the contract for the loan to make sure we were getting the best deal?” “I wanted to talk to you about that.” It was my biggest worry and now he was scaring me. “My dad said he is ready to sell the big house and move into a condo. He isn’t entertaining anymore, and he hates being in that big house all alone. As it is he doesn’t spend but about five hours at night when he sleeps. He wants to give me the money from the sale after he buys his condo. The problem is we don’t know how long it will take for the house to sell so we might have to wait a little while. Then we could be real partners.” I was flabbergasted and when I recovered, I shoved him in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you start with this! I really didn’t want to get a loan. I was only doing it because you thought we should.” “Well, I did want a loan, but dad didn’t tell me his idea until the night of my graduation.” I shoved him again, “I can’t believe you waited two days to tell me this.” I looked down at the table then looked up at him. “You know this doesn’t bode well with me, your keeping something this big from me.” “I have to tell you the truth. I was scared to tell you because the house is worth a couple of million dollars and all the furnishings are probably another million.” My mouth dropped and all I could muster was, “Oh.” “I promise I will never keep something this big or small from you again. I am guessing by your reaction Tina didn’t say anything about how much my family is worth. This really proves she loves me for me and not my money.” “Wow, she never said anything about you being from money. She did tell me you have a beautiful home and it was huge plus she would hate to have to clean it. She hates cleaning our house, so I really didn’t think it was that big.” I gave a nervous chuckle because of how much he was worth. Scott chuckled too, “Your sister is something else.” “Yes, she is. Look, by the way, I don’t expect you to Scott was shaking his head, “Since you have put in all the money for the land and prepping it, how about I put up the money for the fencing and shelters for the ducks and the emus.” I was shaking my head no. “Yes, you don’t realize how much you have already put in plus all your sweat equity has to count, don't forget. We have to come up with a new name for the bird’s part but we could leave the Deigert for the produce. You have been doing this for six years now and have a growing clientele. We could put up the bird's name under my name until we get big enough to have another company name. As far as an agreement I think my marriage contract will be enough for me. I plan on spending quality time with my wife so she will never want to leave me. I know I will never want to leave her.” “You two are almost as gross as my parents. I am glad you found her. Now, how about we name the bird part of the company Turner birds or something like that. I think it’s only fair that your name is a part of our company like mine. We could come up with a company that incorporates these two and we can draw a paycheck from them. I know it would be nice to stop putting every penny I make back into the farm. I would like to travel a bit. How about you?” “I know your sister wants a nice honeymoon. She says that after she graduates in May, she will need a rest, and she wouldn’t mind if it is on a beach somewhere.” “I know what she means. I have one more year of ball busting work. I don’t know if I will be able to come back much this fall because I have so much work to finish my culinary degree.” I gave a sigh. Scott looked at me with concern, “Why are you getting a culinary degree? You are the best cook I know. You don’t need a degree for that.” “I don’t need a degree for what I am doing now.” I was being a little shy but I really wanted to tell Scott my idea. “Touché. Do I have to worry that you will get tired of farming and want to be a chef?” He gave little nervous chuckle. Then looked at me with concern written all over his face. “Well, if I tell you, you will understand why you can’t say anything to Tina. If you don’t want me to tell you, tell me now. Though I am dying to tell you.” I was squirming in my seat, waiting and hoping he could keep a secret from Tina. “Okay as long as you know if she asks me about what you are going to tell me I won’t lie to her.” “Fair enough, I have been thinking about buying out The Crow’s Nest and making it a farm to table restaurant. I think my business degree will help with the running of the restaurant too. When you suggested emus, I was ready to jump on board. I learned about their meat in class: how it tastes like lean beef but is higher in protein with less cholesterol. As you pointed out, the fat pad on their back is a wanted oil in many industries so this investment is a good one. I know to make a profit the cost will be higher than beef. That said, we will have to convince the public that emu meat is better for them in all ways.” I saw how excited he was just by looking in his eyes though he hadn’t said a word. “So, what do you think, you aren’t saying anything.” “I am trying to get under control before I say anything! This makes me so happy, and I know your sister will be happy. I totally get why you don’t want to tell her yet, until you are sure.” “This is why I want a paycheck so I can save for the restaurant.” “Hey, I would so invest in your restaurant. I know my dad would love it if you would open a restaurant too. He has been telling me that you should be a chef not a farmer. This farm to table is so in. We could make it a destination restaurant. We will have to put up ads in St. Louis papers and radio stations.” “Hey, you are getting carried away. I haven’t said I was ready yet.” I liked how Scott was there to support me but it was too soon. Though with how excited he was it was hard for me not to jump at the chance. I had to have him take a step back. “Oh, right. See I told you I am so excited by your confession I could hug you. Hell, I am going to hug you.” He came over and gave me a huge hug. My dad came in just as he was hugging me. “Hey, isn’t one daughter enough for you.” “Oh, I am hugging my wonderful partner because she said yes to raising Pekin ducks and Emus. I am going to be The Birdman. We will offer free range chicken, duck and emu eggs. Though it will be a while before we have the latter two. We have to build up to that.” He smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. Scott and I were now both going over to Mr. Preston’s to help him with his farm. We only went over there every couple of weeks to make sure he was letting the land come back to what it should be. The field that was across the road from the house he was letting become a hay field. This property butted up to Mr. Richards’ property. He was worried that some of their chemicals would come onto his land. I told him that we would get the soil tested to see how much spray came across to his property. We suggested that he let a strip of land become a natural barrier. He could plant trees and plants that are native to this area of Missouri. That suggestion made him feel better. Mrs. Preston was looking healthier than the last time I saw her; she has gained back some of the weight she lost and she had color back in her complexion. She wore a scarf with a straw hat like my grandma wears to garden in. I saw whisps of fine hair peeking out around her face so she hadn’t lost all of her hair. I was happy for her and Mr. Preston.

< Back Marshmallow Dessert Kimberly Caristi Oct 1, 2025 This dessert brings back so many memories. In 1995 we lived in Slovenia and we brought our five-year-old daughter and ten-year-old son. Our son went to an International school so he was gone from seven until one in the afternoon. That left me with a rambunctious little girl who didn’t care if we had a clean house or what we were having for dinner. She wasn’t a big fan of grocery shopping either but with a bribe she would be a good girl meaning she wouldn’t whine, complain or wander off. Her treat would be a doughnut or a couple of times I bought her one of these. The first time I bought one I thought I would be getting some of it. To my surprise and disappointment she ate the whole thing except a tiny bit she gave me when I asked if I could try it. When we got home from Slovenia we were asked if we would take part in a fundraising event. We donated a Slovene dinner and I made this as the dessert. I had figured out how to make it. I made a better base but the rest of it was pretty dead on. This stay was our fifth time to Slovenia and it was another five month stay. I wanted to buy this dessert for friends who visited us because I wanted to see if the dessert tasted like they did thirty years ago. We bought four and they protested that it was too much. Let me tell you they were all gone in minutes. They are so easy to eat and if you like fluffy marshmallows and chocolate you will love it. The ones I made I used a seven-minute frosting as the filling. I saw little difference. In fact, I was looking at some of the recipes and some have a cream filling. I am sure that it is a dessert that has a multitude of recipes like our chili here in the U.S. or spaghetti sauce here or in Italy. Previous Next

< Back Arancini Prep Time: from beginning to the end about an hour depending how big your pot is. Cook Time: four or five minutes each Serves: 20 Level: About the Recipe Arancini are a street food of Sicily. When we visit my husband's family in Ganzirri in the Messina region of Sicily this is a must have predinner snack. The ones we have either have mozzarella with peas and a red sauce or with a meat sauce in the center. The ones I made here are with feta. I thought the feta would go well with the artichoke and lemon. If I could have cow's milk (off it since August of 2024) I might have gone with a pepper jack cheese or a provolone. I like to mix it up with what I put in the center unless I make it for an Italian dinner then I make these authentic. Even the risotto I play with what I put in it. I once went to a restaurant in the Marche and had a strawberry risotto. My husband had a beer and mushroom risotto and it had a strong smokey Italian cheese in it. One of the reason I love eating in Italy is you find so many different cheeses than you get here. Can you imagine getting a cheese with tiny sticks and leaves around the ball of cheese here in the states? I have gotten such a cheese in Italy. It was so good. I am giving you permission to experiment on what cheese you put in your arancini but please leave the cheddar and American for a grilled cheese sandwich. Make sure it melts because a gooey cheese is so much better. I thought the feta tasted good but I did miss the strings of cheese pulling away from the arancini as bit into it. Ingredients Vegetable oil, for deep-frying (I prefer sunflower oil. In Slovenia it was so cheap I wanted to bring home a suitcase full.) Arancini mixture 2 large eggs, beaten to blend 2 cups Lemon Artichoke Risotto, recipe on my website, cooled 1/2 cup grated Romano 2 ounces feta, cut into 1/2-inch cubes Rice flour for rolling the balls in (about a cup) 2 eggs, beaten with a tablespoon of water 1 1/2 cups dried bread crumbs (fine works better though in the picture I used panko. Again, I like to play with the recipe.) Salt Preparation Pour enough oil in a heavy large saucepan to reach the depth of 3 inches. Heat the oil over medium heat to 350 degrees F. Stir beaten 2 eggs, risotto, Romano, in a large bowl to combine. Place three medium shallow bowls (I find our pasta bowls work well for this) in a row. In the first bowl is for the rice flour (about a cup). The second bowl is for the eggs, beat the two plus a tablespoon of water. In the third is for the breadcrumbs. Using about 2 tablespoons of the risotto mixture for each, form the risotto mixture into 1 3/4-inchdiameter balls. Insert 1 cube of feta (or the traditional mozzarella) into the center of each ball. Roll the balls (make sure each step you completely cover the ball) in the rice flour, then roll in the beaten egg, lastly roll in the bread crumbs to coat. Working in batches, add the rice balls to the hot oil and cook until brown and heated through, carefully turn them as necessary, about 4 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the rice balls to paper towels lined cookie sheet to drain. Season with salt. Let rest 2 minutes. Serve hot. They can be frozen for a couple of months and I reheat them in my air fryer or oven until hot. Previous Next

< Back January 2026 Kimberly Caristi Jan 25, 2026 After my husband retired he started volunteering at the Habitat store. He came home all excited. He had bought a white Christmas tree that he was going to use on our front porch as a decoration. He begged me to come out and see the tree. This is what my husband thought was a white tree. The “needles” were falling off it. I have to confess it didn’t look that bad at night but I cringed during the day when I had to drive by it or look out the window. BTW, my husband’s name is not Charlie Brown. 😊 My January news letter is late this month because I fell on Christmas day. I hurt my ACL, PCL and tore a ligament in my knee. May I suggest when you see a tripping hazard that you move it right away and not think you will get it later. Recovery is slow so my post on social media has been effected. I haven’t been out of the house except to go to therapy and the doctor. I hope your Christmas was a delight and you are having a blessed beginning of the New Year. Previous Next

< Back Peanut butter cookies Prep Time: About ten to fifteen minutes Cook Time: 8-10 minutes Serves: 48 to 60 depending on the size of balls you make. Level: easy About the Recipe Ingredients · 1 cup brown sugar · 1 cup sugar · 1 cup butter · 1 cup peanut butter · 1 eggs · 3 cups flour · 2 tsp. soda Preparation Cream sugars and butter until the color changes to a lighter color. Add peanut butter mix well then beat in egg. Mix together the three cups of flour and 2 teaspoons of baking soda then add to the peanut butter mixture and mix until no flour streaks. You can refrigerate if you want or roll into one-inch balls and place on a baking sheet 2 inches apart. Use a fork to press in a cross hatch. Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes Previous Next

< Back Bookshelf Kimberly Caristi Nov 3, 2025 This isn’t an amazing picture at all! The importance of this picture is to show most of my cookbooks and the stories behind them. Many of them are from our 2008 study abroad when my husband took U.S. students to Italy to do a documentary on Italian food. My job on these trips were to help students stay with the group during tours. If you haven’t heard the term herding cats, nailing jelly to the wall or pouring water into a sieve you should try to keep thirty young adults following one person who is talking in a normal voice about what took place a thousand years ago while there are cars and motorcycles zipping by, tens or twenty different directions they could go, windows filled with pastries, clothes, perfumes, art, jewelry, or things they have not seen before and you will totally understand the before mentioned phrases. I was grateful that I have an uncanny ability to know how to get to places I have been told about, read about or drove by it once. In these travels I have been pulled away from the group by following a student who just had to go the bathroom, tied a shoe, just had to take a picture and probably a dozen other things and I have never lost a student and found the group in a timely matter. I have had one misstep but it wasn’t all my fault and I will leave that for another photo later on. I will tell you I have never lived it down and every time we get together with our Italian director, him and my husband love to retell the tale. I have gotten off track and need to bring it back to the cookbooks. I have really came into my own after that trip and finding all these cookbook neatly stacked in my kitchen. First, you should know we did buy them ourselves and let the students use them. Second, I realized I could make a recipe my own, meaning taking a recipe and adding this or that to it and it still be good. I had always known I could do that with baking as long as I didn’t throw off the fats, dry ingredients and liquids balance. I can bake for anyone but now I felt I could cook for Americans and do a pretty good job of making something that they would like, for Europeans I know I should make something less sweet (no applesauce with the pork but greens.) I can cook for Asians but I am not sure how to bake for them. Sad to say I have never had the opportunity to cook for anyone from Africa. I haven’t hosted them in my home…yet. I always do research on food from their area before we host someone. I never tell them it is their food because no one can cook exactly like their family. Example, I cooked what I thought was Chinese and our Chinese guest said “What do you call this Kim? It almost taste like Chinese.” Being that our guest was from Szechuan province and their spice level was quite a bit higher than ours I took that as a compliment. We had a guest from Slovenia who said she loved everything that came out my large saucepan. These cookbooks gave me the experience to experiment and I fell in love with cooking just as much as baking. Our friends noticed a difference. I have always had about a half a dozen recipes for a dinner that I used repeatedly. When I started mixing it up they took notice. When we started donating dinners our community notice that I was not just a chocolate nut or a baker. I have had two articles written about me on those subjects. I make my own truffles and for our Christmas party each year I would make about a dozen different cookies, a half a dozen bars, a half dozen other pastries plus a dozen different chocolates. I did offer other non-sweet items. The first few years of our marriage it was all store bought with a few personal bakes. I kept challenging myself to go bigger until it got too big. To make us feel a little better about all this over indulgence everyone invited were to bring dry goods for the food pantry in town. I look forward to sharing my recipes with you as time goes on. This past last month we have been travelling. I hope to get my photo albums up soon. We traveled through eleven states. North Dakota was our 48th contiguous state to visit and we got to it this time. We also got to see the head waters of the Mississippi river and I got to stand in it. I was so excited. We stayed in a cabin without a television, even more important no internet. We taught ourselves a new game of cards and the silence almost drove my husband nuts. I have to say I did miss the internet. I wish you all safe travels even if it is just to the grocery store to buy a new ingredient. Previous Next

< Back Garlic Bread Prep Time: ten minutes Cook Time: fifty minutes Serves: 3 loaves or pizzas Level: easy About the Recipe Ingredients 2 pkgs. Yeast 1 ½ T. garlic salt 3 c. warm water 2 T. cooking oil ¼ c. sugar 8 c. flour (approx.) Preparation Dissolve yeast in warm water. Add sugar, garlic salt and oil. Mix. Stir in enough flour to make fairly stiff dough. Cover bowl with damp cloth and let rise until double in bulk. Divide dough in 3 parts. Roll into rectangles on a floured surface. Roll up as for jellyroll and tuck ends under. Slit top diagonally 3 or 4 times. Place on a greased baking sheet. Cover and let rise until double, about 40 minutes. Brush with water and sprinkle with a little garlic salt. Bake at 400 for 10 minutes. Repeat brushing with water and sprinkle garlic salt. Turn oven to 325 and bake 35 to 40 minutes more. Remove from oven to rack to cool and brush top with butter. This bread freezes real well and yields 3 large loaves. Variation: I have been know to make thick pizza crust with this dough Previous Next

< Back Bagels Prep Time: 15 minutes but you have to make them the day before Cook Time: 30 seconds of boiling 14 minutes of baking Serves: 8 Level: medium About the Recipe Ingredients 4 cups (22 oz) high-gluten flour 2 teaspoons salt 1 Tablespoon barley malt syrup 1 ½ teaspoons instant or rapid-rise yeast 1 ¼ warm water (80 degree F) 3 tablespoons cornmeal Preparation Because bagel dough is much drier and stiffer than bread dough, it takes longer for the ingredients to cohere during mixing. For this reason, we recommend that you neither double this recipe nor try to knead the dough by hand. Ost natural foods stores carry barley malt syrup. High-gluten flour might be more difficult to find. You can order both the syrup and the flour from The Baker’s Catalogue or King Arthur Flour: KingArthurFlour.com . (I use a wheat gluten from Red Mill. I use 1 teaspoon for every cup so in this recipe I use 4 teaspoons. I did order my barley malt on amazon.) 1. Using stand mixer fitted with dough hook, combine flour, salt, and barley malt in the bowl. Add yeast and water; mix at lowest speed until dough looks scrappy, like shreds just beginning to come together, about 4 minutes. Increase speed to medium-low; continue mixing until dough is cohesive, smooth, and stiff, 8 to 10 minutes. 2. Turn dough onto counter; divide into 8 portions, about 4 ounces each. Roll pieces into smooth balls and cover with plastic wrap to rest for 5 minutes. 3. Form each dough ball into a rope 11 inches long by rolling it under your out stretched palms. Do not tapper ends of rope. Shape rope into circle, overlapping ends of rope about 1 ½ inches. Pinch overlapped area firmly together, dampening it slightly with water if ends won’t stick. Place ring of dough around your hand at the base of your fingers and with overlap under your palm, roll dough ring several times, applying firm pressure to seal seam. Dough ring should be roughly same thickness all around. Dust rimmed baking sheet with cornmeal, place dough rings on sheet, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and refrigerate overnight (12 to 18 hours). 4. About 1 hour before baking, remove dough rings from refrigerator. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 450 degrees. Pour water into large pot to depth of 3 inches and bring water to boil. 5. Working four at a time, drop dough rings into boiling water, stirring and submerging them with metal skimmer or slotted spoon, until very slightly puffed, 30 to 35 seconds. Remove dough rings from water and transfer them to wire rack, bottom side down to drain. 6. Transfer boiled rings, rough side down to parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake until deep golden brown and crisp, about 14 minutes rotating sheet halfway through baking. Use tongs to transfer to wire rack to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature. (bagels can be wrapped in double layers of plastic wrap and stored at room temperature for up to 3 days. Wrapped with additional layer of aluminum foil, bagels can be frozen for up to 1 month. To recrisp, thaw bagels at room temperature, if froze, and place unwrapped bagels in 450 degree oven for 6 to 8 minutes.) Topped bagels Dunk dough rings into one of the following ½ cup raw sesame seeds, poopy or caraway seeds, dehydrated onion or garlic flakes, or sea or kosher salt while they are still wet and sticky (at the end of step 5, after draining.) Everything bagels Dunk dough rings into a mixture of 2 tablespoons each sesame and poppy seeds and 1 tablespoon caraway seeds, sea or kosher salt, dehydrated onion flakes, and dehydrated garlic flakes. Or you can buy all ready made seasoning at the store. Cinnamon-raisin bagels Mix 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon, and ½ cup raisins into flour, salt, and barley malt in step 1. Don't be scared about making your own flavors. I made a mulberry, blackberry and blueberry before. Previous Next