Personal Care Favorites for Winter

I had a hard time figuring out what to call this post . . .
I'm not trying to put some ads into my pages . . .
but I so want to share about some personal care products that
I've come to appreciate.
I'm not getting paid for  this.



African Shea Butter, made from the fruit of the karite tree,  is my new all time favorite for dry skin and cracked heels. It does not have  a pleasant odor, but you do not notice it past the application process. A tiny speck of it rubbed in your hands and spread on your skin keeps your skin and heels moist all day and all night. I was getting a bit frustrated with dry skin flakes on my socks and heels snagging on leggings or tights . . . this paste is the best!
It's available in Health Stores.
 

Funny how deodorant is still necessary when I'm cold. I'm sharing my favorite deodorant because maybe you have never considered the difference between deodorant and antiperspirant. We do not know if the link between between some health concerns and aluminum are true, so this is not to put anyone on a guilt trip, but just to say that there actually is a deodorant that works.
I have found that there are many options for men but not for women. Go figure!
The one I've used for many years is the Adidas Cotton Tech aluminum free deodorant. The one on the photo says new (I think it's the powder option that is new) but it's been around for a long time and I am very happy with it.
I get it at Safeway.



Zilactin is also a time proven medicated ointment for cold sores. Good to have on hand for the first sign of a cold sore to keep it from going crazy. It also helps to dry out pimples and numb the pain of canker sores. I think you an get it at any Canadian pharmacy.



And last but not least . . . a product I hope stays around . . . is a Lanza molding paste for fine hair.
After I dry my hair, I rub a tiny bit into my finger tips and then use my fingers to rub the paste into the roots of my hair and generally just give it shape. I can run in through the cold weather mist - even wearing a hat - come inside and shape it like new just using a round bristled brush to tease and lift it again.
 This product is available at hair salons.

So that's it for today. I hope you found something helpful
or share something that works well for you.

It said Makenna

Carefully she spread peanut butter and jam on the plastic slice of bread before serving me.

A special treat was the "real" water served out of the tiny teapot.
 Sitting on a tiny chair, I noticed the pencil crayon writing
 and casually made mention that someone had scribbled on the table.
It was surprising how quickly her response came,
"And I guess they know how to spell my name!"
It made me laugh . . . and
since that eliminates a certain number of playhouse visitors,
it left me wondering
and smiling.
 

Lepp Farm Class

We found out that volunteering to do a non-Mennonite cooking class resulted in a smaller than usual class . . . however, we loved the intimacy and interaction of this smaller group setting.



The kitchen was a hive of activity from the moment I stepped into it, but I had the advantage of being very relaxed because I had no major part in it. I enjoyed learning things myself as I mixed and chopped . . . even with time to take photos.

 

Kathy is one who can get a lot done in short order.
She is very organized and I admire how she can
talk while she is cooking. She showed us one method of pizza pastry from scratch
and several types of toppings.



Lovella . . . well I can say the same things about her. She is always trying new things
and nothing seems to be too difficult to try.
After showing us how she prepared her homemade pizza crust, she prepared a green salad with all kinds of nice surprises in there.

 

Part way through the class Judy and I started plating and handing out salads and the first slice of pizza - a taste of tomato basil.

soon after that Lovella's thin crust smoked salmon pizza came out of the oven

 

and then Kathy's elegant fig and balsamic pizza.

Our evening ended with Lovella's chocolate chiffon cake and Kathy's surprise orange chiffon cake.
I'm not sure who had the most fun, but I sure feel privileged, once again, to
be exactly where I am for this season of my life . . .
 

Easy Scrapbooking

As I've mentioned in a previous post on scrapbooking, January is usually a good time to check out the highlights of the past year. I'm falling behind on that but working on it.



What I have come to enjoy more than working on current photos, is organizing the old slides and photos. When there is time. Precious time.

So here is what I have begun to do. I purchase a photo album that has the sleeves for five photos per page. These albums usually hold about 250 photos. My goal has been five years into one book.

After scanning the old, I choose and organize the photos according to page layout . . . cropping according to horizontal or vertical position of sleeve, before actually ordering them online.

Because the "cropping" has been done, I can order them with the white border.

When I pick them up, there is no trimming or frames to cut. I just place them in their sleeves. I like the white frames against the black background.

Sometimes a story is in place and I add that to a sleeve.

I see that some of these need a little straightening . . . as photos do shift a bit . . .
 

but you get the idea . . . embellishments can still be added over top of the plastic sleeve.
 

This may not a true scrapbooker's dream but for now
it's about finding a balance between dreams and getting things done.

The Endless Steppe

Rummaging through a drawer recently, I found a book someone had lent me years ago. I'd say it was time to return it, but I began reading and did not want to put it down.

 

Esther Hautzic tells about how her happy childhood was suddenly torn from her on a beautiful first day of summer vacation. Living in what is today known as Vilnius, the capital of  Lithuania yet part of Poland in 1942, Russian soldiers came to their door and arrested the family for being capitalists. She had no idea what that meant, but that it was cause to be barbarously herded into cattle cars and taken away. After six weeks of sardine style travelling, they ended up in Siberia, where they were sent to a labor camp in unbeatable cold and harsh conditions. The story is heart-breaking, yet written in a matter-of-fact manner - from a ten year old's perspective, one in which there is always room for hope.

I will be passing this book on to my ten year old granddaughter and others who will read it. You may ask, why I would recommend this kind of reading for today. It is for the simple reason of what I felt while reading it. There is nothing like going to bed at night and realizing how much we have to be thankful for. Giving thanks for a bar of soap, a hot shower, a bed, a pair of boots and a loaf of bread is never so easy as when we realize what we can so easily take for granted.

After five years in exile, the family was given their freedom, only to find that most of those who had not been rounded up on that "beautiful summer morning" had met a tragic death. This family's exile turned out to be their salvation.
 

 

The Matching Game

You remember the gift opening chair?
Koen's eyes opened wide at the tractor he got. He also received a draw-string bag . . .
 the material had a John Deer tractor design on it . . .
and it was filled with home-made blocks.

On the blocks, his auntie Kari had decoupaged photos of his family . . .

not only an enjoyable matching game
but also a memorable keepsake!

Special Visitors

 

Last week we were sitting around the table with my youngest uncle and aunt, visiting 

from Paraguay. Their daughter (my cousin, Moni) is studying at our local Bible College and this finally gave her parents good reason to visit relatives, such as my mom (at the table) who is his oldest sister.

 

You may or may not remember the story of the only grandfather I ever knew. It's the story of how he lost his first family in Russia, while a prisoner of war. After the War he went with a ship of refugees to Paraguay, where he met and married my widowed grandmother. My mom was a young teen at the time with five younger siblings. They became an instant happy family. As a stepfather, he loved his new family like his own. The family grew with two more boys added to the mix . . .

 

. . . and then came the unexpected news that his wife in Russia was looking for him. Communication was not so easy, especially so during the time of Communistic rule, and the man who would one day become my grandfather had to make the most difficult decision in his life. He knew what kind of a greeting he would receive as an escaped prisoner of war of the Russians. He also knew that his first wife was not able to leave the country. Together they decided that they both really had no choice, but to continue their lives in the way that the Lord had allowed it to be.

 

 

My parents, both children of Mennonite refugees from Russia to Paraguay, grew up and went to Uruguay to work with MCC.  The photo (above) was taken at their wedding in 1956. My Dad convinced his widowed mom (my Omi) and my mom's parents (my Oma and Opa) to come and live in Uruguay as well. Most of the family is in the photo, Oma and Opa in the front with the youngest boys and the others surrounding my parents. Two siblings are missing. On the back on the right side is my Omi and the pastor who officiated the wedding.

About three years after my mom's wedding, her younger sister also got married in Uruguay. On this photo you see, from left to right, two single brothers, my parents, another single brother, the bride and groom, the groom's brother, and a sister next in line to my mom, with her husband. My Oma and Opa are sitting in between their youngest two boys (in jackets, ties and shorts) and the rest of us are grandchildren. I was the only girl at that point. Tall, for not quite two and a half!

During these years (early sixties) my Omi lived next door to us and my Oma and Opa lived on a dairy farm a ways off.  I loved outings to their farm. Opa's gentle spirit combined with Oma's tendency to be a tease were a great combination . . . and the bonus was that they had two boys to play with! Their six and seven year difference in age to me did not intimidate me at all. . . as they were old enough to humor a little girl and take her out to ride the horse or find honey comb in the bushes.

These are the thoughts that bring me to this most recent photo of one of those uncles  . .  . who's voice and mannerisms now remind me of the Opa I knew and loved. Funny how that happens.

The years that followed took my grandparents back to Paraguay, while our family moved to Brazil and then to Canada . . . but no matter the distance, regular letters went back and forth and were read aloud. On occasion this was not enough and Oma and Opa would hop on a bus . . . or a plane and arrive with suitcases in tow. How I loved waking up in the mornings to hear their voices in the kitchen or visit their bedroom and catch the scent from their home. The last time they were here together was in 1984, when they got to meet their oldest four great-grandchildren. My grandmother died of colon cancer two years later.  In 1994 my grandfather flew to Europe and reunited with his first wife for a lengthy visit. He passed away, peacefully, in 1999.

Lacey's Lalaloopsie Party

I peeked into the dining room . . . which was flowing into the living room now
and saw she had chosen her chair . . . waiting for the party to begin.

She had helped bring up the folding table and extra chairs.
Her mom had set the tables so beautifully!
Finally the cousins came and they decided it was hot tub time first.
Mom agreed . . . it was fine to have beach hair for a mermaid party.

We set out the food in the kitchen for everyone to help themselves . . .
apricot glazed meatballs, veggies, artichoke dip with guacamole chips, ham and pineapple pizza and caesar chicken spinach pizza.
Auntie Kristal brought the cupcakes.

The straws in the cups were a big deal . . .
 

and there was good eating and stories to be told.

I just could hardly get over this long table full of family!

Some form of musical chairs always seems to happen . . .

Then it was time for gifts to be opened.

Oh, the suspense!

Cards were read with care.

And then it was time to sing the Birthday song and blow out the candles!
Some traditions never change.
Happy Birthday, Lacey!