A Brave Writer's Life in Brief

Chance Teatime
Originally uploaded by juliecinci

When I heard about Tuesday Teatime, I was skeptical that it was something my two boys (ages 8 and 11) would want to do. But I decided to try it and was surprised that it is the one thing that the boys don’t let me forget about! One of the boys has developed a love of tea while one prefers hot chocolate with marshmallows. Sometimes we do a read aloud; sometimes we sit and read poems from one of their favorite children’s poetry books. We have had a few special themed teatimes, but most of the time we just grab a box of cookies out of the pantry. It doesn’t seem to matter how fancy it is. The next Tuesday they always exclaim, “Don’t forget today is Tuesday Teatime, Mom!”

Liam has the Redwall bug. He’s whipping through the series like a hurricane. His older brother had the same reaction to the Redwall series. I cooperated with the addiction by reading two of the books aloud to the entire family. Yes, they’re delightful in their own way and Brian Jacques has to be commended for creating clever dialects, delightful animal characterizations and repeatedly stimulating battles that keep kids on the edge of their seats.

Not so much for moms, though, I confess. I have a hard time keeping my mind on the plots being that they are a tad predictable. Good guys, bad guys, heirloom swords, epic confrontations, moles with Yorkshire accents.The usual drill. I’ll be reading along and suddenly pages will go by while my brain is elsewhere (like, say, on lunch or when is that orthodontist appointment again?, and Oh! I can’t wait for American Idol to start…). Suddenly, out of the blue, one of the kids will ask, “What do you think Mom? What will happen next?”

Blink.

Uh, Simon will be mean to a girl from South Dakota?

Oh, wait, Redwall, you say. Thinking, thinking. I used to stumble around bluffing, until one day, I stumbled on a sturdy, reliable answer—one I could use at the end of every chapter for every book. I offer it to you, in case, like me, your mind wanders a wee bit while you read: “The bad guys are getting ready to attack Redwall Abbey and the good guys are getting ready to defend it.” Works just about every time. 🙂 (Thought it might help Melissa Wiley, too.)

Now honestly, I love the series. I love the way it engages readers, infects them with the drive to read hundreds of pages. More than anything though, I thank Brian Jacques for making my kids’ mouths salivate with a desire for dandelion cordial and meadowcream because those cravings drove us to purchase the Redwall Cookbook last week. Unlike the fictional series, I’ve combed every page for meal time inspiration.

Liam and I were immediately drawn to the recipe for Nunnymollers. We sifted the flour and confectioner’s sugar together while cutting in the crumbled butter. We palmed the mixture into small balls of dough which we then flattened into five inch discs. We spread a thin layer of honey across each one, dotting the tops with three fresh raspberries each. Finally, Liam and I pinched the sides up into little purses and topped them with dollops of raspberry jam.

Into the oven they went. 30 minutes later we had teatime ala Redwall. My mind didn’t wander. Neither did my tongue… or my hips which now proudly sport the effects of white flour, sugar and butter. New Year’s weight loss resolutions be damned. I snarfed down four of those suckers. Oh. My. Deliciousness. They are sooooo good.

Here’s the recipe:

Nunnymollers

3 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 c. confectioner’s sugar

1 cup (2 sticks) butter cubed

12 strawberries, 12 raspberries (fresh)

Honey

Raspberry or strawberry jam

1. Preheat oven to 350. Whisk flour and sugar together. Add butter and rub it in with your fingers (or pulse in food processor) until mixture resembles fine bread crumbs. Sprinkle 3-4 tablespoons of ice cold water, mixing with fork or pulsing in food processor.

2. Divide dough into twelve 2-inch balls. Use your palm or rolling pin to flatten each ball into a 5-inch round.

3. Spread each round with a thin layer of honey. Place 1 strawberry and 1 raspberry in the center. (We used three raspberries and no strawberries in ours.) Fold edges of dough “in” toward the center, leaving a small opening in the middle. Pinch folds. Put a dollop of jam on top.

4. Bake until firm and golden, about 20-25 minutes. Let cool on wire rack before serving.

5. Enjoy!

Make some fragrant tea to go with them. If you’re tired of straight black tea, you can enhance the flavor by adding a fistful (bunch) of fresh mint leaves to steep with your tea bag. Once steeped, pour into mugs and add honey to taste. (Another recipe compliments Redwall.)

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By the way, I need more teatime photos from your houses! Send them to me: Julie [at] bravewriter [dot] com. I’ll post them on Tuesdays. They are often the favorite posts of the week. For your trouble, we send a complimentary issue of the Arrow or Boomerang.

“So we were sitting in Ryan’s bedroom and they kept asking me what homeschooling was like. All I could think to explain it was to talk about teatime,” Jacob, the now public schooled student, said to his friends. I laughed. Sometimes I think the only thing my kids will remember from homeschooling is teatime.

“They thought it was so cool that we got to eat treats during the day and drink tea. I told them we read poetry every time too. Ryan said, ‘What did you read? Beowulf?’ He smirked and looked over at Sarah, (nicknamed Jano), like ‘No way did they read Beowulf.’ I said to him, ‘Actually, yeah we did.’ And all he could say was, ‘Wow. Cool.'”

Apparently that was the trigger. The next thing you know, Jacob, Jano and Ryan were off to the supermarket to buy PG Tips to make tea. Unfortunately teatime in Ryan’s kitchen didn’t conjure the same atmosphere or success as ours. Jacob told me that his tea tasted like dirty water and I was the only person who could steep it till it was “just right”… Once sufficiently buttered up, he asked me, “Can Jano and Ryan come over on Saturday afternoon for a real teatime?”

And that’s what we did today. The kids all pitched in to clean up the family room, to set the table and to help make the vanilla cake. I made the tea and poured out.

The Bogarts all took turns reading poetry aloud to our new audience. Jano and Ryan flipped through a couple of poetry books, smiled through all the readings, but weren’t quite brave enough yet to jump into the rhyming fray. They sipped their tea and declared it good. Everyone loved the vanilla cake (a Trader Joe’s hit!).

Once finished, Jacob, Jano and Ryan moved to the family room where they played rock band for hours.

I washed up realizing that these public schooled kids had just caught the teatime bug. A happy infection.

Teatime Quiddler
Originally uploaded by juliecinci

Hi Julie,
I couldn’t resist sending this photo from three years ago. At the time we wrote a poem called Tea and Quiddler to send you with the photo . The poem was lost and the photo never was sent. It was written after we read Jabberwocky, so it we are unable to duplicate it, it was silly. You are welcome to share the photo on your blog if you can get it turned up right. 🙂 (Which I did!)

We modified the game to suit out needs when William and Anna were younger. They are now 13 and 9 making larger words and still having fun with Quiddler.

Quiddler is a great game for everyone.
Kay

Hi Julie,

I hesitated to send this tea time report because I sent one last fall and this one happened before we officially began school. Still, when I heard my little one speak with the depth that only little ones can, I felt moved to share this experience.

Living at an altitude of a little over 7400 ft., our growing season is pretty short. Thus, planting Mammoth Sunflower seeds the second week of June, after the last frost, was pretty wishful thinking. This circumstance, of course, did not diminish the delight and enthusiasm of my two year old son as he pushed each seed into the soft dirt.

We dutifully watered every day and enjoyed the thrill of watching the seedlings emerge. Eventually they grew into pretty sturdy stalks and I watched with pleasure as the plants began to reach above my son’s head. He stood amazed, as day after day they gained inches and towered high above him.

As the end of August approached, I wondered if all our watering and tending time was in vain. Would they ever bloom? Finally, on the last day of August (and Julian’s third birthday), the miracle occurred. We awoke to find several buds ready to open and by the end of the afternoon three flowers were blooming. Three! What a birthday gift! Surely this occassion demanded a celebration with a tea party in the sunflower garden. We hastily gathered some left over birthday cake, lemonade and cups. I even looked up some “sunflower poems” on the internet which my older son and I took turns reading. It was the first of many garden tea parties in the sunflower house.

I had hoped the experience would end with all the flowers going to seed; with families of birds enjoying the harvest. Jack Frost, however, had other plans. He came too soon to allow the birds this blessing and the flowers are all drooping miserably in the back yard. The blessing did come however in the remarkable way little children seem to express things.

Today, as we sat on the floor sipping magic tea from miniature tea cups, Julian sat gazing out the window at the once glorious garden. Then, in the sweetest voice imaginable, he said, ” We” (his replacement word for our), “We sunflowers are bending their heads down for their nap in autumn time”. A brief pause ensued and then, in the spirit of a Dostoyevsky winter, he said softly, “The sun can’t cheer them up anymore.”

Poetry lesson, science discovery, nature encounter, language development? All learning is better with tea time!

Michelle