A Huge Feast

All the foreigners were invited to a huge feast today by all the Generals Major - met so many big shots.  There were 200 present.  This affair was all 'tung ming guo' - all allies together - and has never been done in W.  The food was good but not extraordinary, but we did enjoy being there + meeting so many of the people.  - Annette, January 1944

 

Last night was the Opening Night of Rodgers and Hammerstein's The King and I at the Fox Theatre.  I'm sure many of you know the story.  Anna, a single mother of English upbringing, travels to Siam to teach English to the many wives and children of the King of Siam.  Just before Act Two, the King learns that Western countries find him 'barbaric,' so Anna helps him plan a lavish party to display the kindness, beauty, and tolerance of the kingdom of Siam.  In some ways, the party is a success...and some ways not.  No spoilers!  Go see the show! =)

While playing the show last night, I kept thinking about Annette and her role in China.  She played organ at the church, helped train the nurses at the hospital, cared for the children at the orphanage, and through it all, taught English to the women and children who lived in the village.  Here, she describes a party with some very important military leaders.  She describes the event as "'tung ming guo' - all allies together."  This is likely tong meng guo, or 同盟国.  This was a time to celebrate the collaboration between the US and China - one never before done in Wanhsien.  I'm sure it was quite a lavish event - much like the party that Anna and the King planned.

What an exciting evening!  Of course, she mentions the food - a crucial element of every party!  I wonder what they served their American guests. 

A Ray Of Sunshine

This is our dear boy's birth-day.  And a fine looking fellow for one year.  Picture of health, eyes bright + cheeks like two rose-buds.  In fact, he is our pride, our joy.  He is running over with fun + mischief.  He is the life of the place, a ray of sunshine that has fallen across our pathway.  - Frances, April 1891

 

Yesterday, I received a birthday invitation from a good friend - not for her, but the couple's one year old son!  He has the cutest baby hair, and rosy little cheeks just like Frances' son.  I'm sure my friend has experienced the joy and mischief that Frances describes as well.  This entry could have easily been written by a new mother today.  Those feelings of wonder and love easily eclipse the feelings of exhaustion! 

For Frances, every child's life was reason to celebrate.  She had 6 children, but one little girl didn't live to see her first birthday - unfortunately, a common occurrence at the time.  While no mother will ever stop worrying about the life of her child, a First Birthday is a joyous milestone.  This tiny person is just beginning his or her time in the world - and that is definitely worth celebrating. 

A Couple Pictures

The pictures we took Sunday of Bug turned out very well.  I wrote to Mother so we sent along a couple pictures.  Had alarms tonite - we even took Bug down to the dung for his first bit of powing.  Annette, October 1941

 

This project had a big weekend!  First, my brilliant fiancé, who spent several years working in China, helped decipher several of Annette's interpretations of Chinese words and phrases.  She mentions the 'dung' by their house several times, which is her interpretation of the Chinese word for cave or hole - 洞.  She always talks about 'powing' back and forth, which means run - 跑.  It was so much fun to sort through some of her words!

Also this weekend, I visited my sister and her family.  She had a few boxes of photos from my Dad that we were going to look through.  While digging through yearbooks and newspaper clippings, we discovered photos from my Grandmother's time in China!  

In this entry, Annette was excited to send home pictures of Bug.  Guess what I found?!

I can't wait to sort through all these photos - more to come!  Enjoy!

Cleared Out The Rain

The wedding was lovely.  Daddy cleared out the rain and made a pretty sunset, and even prettier stars.  Being here makes me sad.  Daddy is everywhere.  In the water fishing.  In the hammock.  Walking on the beach.  It makes me miss him so much.  - Miranda, May 2008

 

My Dad was really sick at the beginning of 2008.  He died in March.  My sister got married in May that year, on the beach that my Dad loved.  It rained all day, but just before the ceremony, the clouds parted and the sun came through - just like a movie scene.  In my last conversation with my Dad, he said he couldn't wait to dance under the stars at her wedding.  Even though he wasn't there, he made sure there were stars.

Storm clouds blow over all the time - it's a common weather phenomenon.  Still, against all logic, I believe that was my Dad's doing.  The natural world has its own systems and rules, but that doesn't stop us from trying to make sense of things. I go back to that beach as often as I can.  That's where I feel my Dad the most.  Maybe it is just sand and water.  Maybe it is just another sunset.  Or maybe it is something more.  

 

I Wonder If This Is An Omen

It has certainly been blustery and rainy, but not cold.  And just now the sun shone out almost like Spring.  I wonder if this is an omen of the year.  The first dark and threatening - the last bright and pleasant.  - Frances, January 1892

 

As I write this, I am watching the trees bend and sway.  The rain is constant - sometimes hard, sometimes drippy, sometimes almost horizontal.  The city has shut down to brace for Tropical Storm Irma.  I know it is for safety, but with a schedule like mine, disruptions are often annoying.  Where will I find the time to schedule 12 make-up lessons?!?

And then I remember that formerly-Hurricane Irma did incredible damage, along with Hurricane Harvey in Houston.  Some people lost everything, including their lives.  Surely I can handle few missed lessons and a bit of rain.  Today is also September 11th - a tragedy that still escapes my understanding.

The weather often influences our moods.  Storms reflect the turbulence in our lives.  Sunshine reveals the joys.  Frances had a difficult year, and she saw the weather as a way to make sense of everything.  To look past the bluster and find the hope shining through.  Sometimes the dark helps us to see the light.

Now, the power in my little house is flickering.  Inconvenient?  I think I'll manage just fine.  Stay safe, out there.

Modern-day Ginger Drops

My favorite part of Annette's diary has always been the recipes in the back of the book.  I love that she jotted down tricks, tips, and treats that made her happy.  I've always wanted to recreate the recipes, so here we go! 

Overall, the Ginger Drops were not quite what I expected.  With only basic instructions, contradicting ingredients, and no cook time or temperature, that was part of the adventure!  The consistency was definitely more like cake than cookie.  I tried one batch in a 350 degree electric oven, and another batch at 400 degrees (definitely more crispy!).

This experiment really got me thinking.  What kind of flour was available in 1941 China?  Did she use wheat flour, or something more like rice or tapioca?  Was the ground ginger more fresh?  More medicinal?  How did the get brown sugar?  The diary includes a recipe for Refining Chinese Sugar - was that the sugar she meant?  What kind of oven did she use?  I had the option for either gas or electric, but could she have used wood-burning? 

For my next attempt, I'll head up to the Chinese markets on Buford Highway and see what kind of ingredients I can find.  Stay tuned!

Swell Ginger Cookies

We weighed Bug today and he had lost weight.  Poor little guy - he just doesn't get enough to eat, but I have the milk.  We made some swell ginger cookies today.  - Annette, December 1941

 

A friend of mine is going through something similar with her first child.  She is constantly worried that her little one isn't getting enough to eat.   Understandably so!  Here you are, charged with keeping this new little person alive - feeding him is always on your mind!  Annette had that same worry.  How do you make sure your baby has enough to eat?  Luckily for her, some of the other missionary wives had children, so she had a strong network of support.  I like this diary entry because although she is preoccupied with feeding schedules and general human survival, she makes a point to mention ginger cookies!  What do I do when I am stressed?  Bake!  Creating a sweet treat by hand is like therapy - no matter what is going on in the world, you can always combine butter and sugar to escape.  

Annette included lots of little notes in her diary - lists, accounts, weights/heights, and even recipes!  Here is her recipe for those 'swell ginger cookies.'  Pretty straightforward, but baking in rural China seemed to always be an adventure for Annette (more entries on that later....).  If you make these, comment below and let me know how they turned out!  I know what I'll be making for dessert tonight!

 

Ginger Drops

1/4 cup shortening

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 1/2 cups flour

1 egg

1/2 teasp cinnamon

1 tablesp ginger

1/2 cup molasses

1 teasp soda

1/2 cup boiling water

 

Cream butter + sugar.  Add egg. Add dry ingredients alternately with hot water + molasses.  Bake in muffin pans.

 

I Just Stopped Caring

Charleston audition was fine.  Made it to the finals.  Had to play Daphnis second part.  It was ok, but in the final round I just stopped caring.  So it was boring, and they picked a girl to play an extra round by herself.  Maybe they offered her the job, maybe not.  But this is fine, because I really didn't want the job.  I'm starting to play more like myself though.  That's all I want.  To be myself.  - Miranda, September 2006

 

I feel like every musician has one of these auditions at some point.  We wait months (years) for an opening in an orchestra.  We prepare the required list of orchestral excerpts.  We adjust our eating and sleeping schedules to maximize practice efficiency.  We record ourselves and spend hours replaying/critiquing what we hear.  We meditate.  We journal.  We have minor (or major) nervous breakdowns.  All to play just a few minutes in front of the audition committee.  Most people go through something similar for job interviews, but I've always found it interesting that while others are trying to 'get the job', while musicians are trying to 'WIN the job.'  The goal is winning the audition.  It's not enough to demonstrate your qualifications and be the best person for the job.  You have to win.  We are hardwired to take every audition.  To go after every spot.  The 'good' jobs are rare - You'd better take it!  Sometimes, though, an audition feels like going through the motions.  I was happy to advance to the next round for this audition, but my heart wasn't in it.  I spend months preparing, but deep down, I knew this was not the job for me.  I pushed through, took the audition, and it was all fine.  Fine doesn't win auditions.  But sometimes that's ok.  I always struggle with the inner voice that says It will be good for you.  We absolutely need to do things that push our limits - that's how we learn.  

But how do we learn to trust our instincts?  Did I take that audition out of fear?  You have to do this!  People will forget about you!  They will never call you again!  Obligation?  Jobs don't open often.  You need the money.  Insecurity?  Prove yourself!  You'll never be enough until you win a job!  I am not sure.  But after that audition, I felt like I had played like myself.  At the end of the day, that's all you can do.  Put it all out there, show them what you can do, play the music the way you feel, and hope that things fall into place.  At the end of the day, all you can be is what you are.

That "Funny Feeling"

That "funny feeling" has continued and Clary and I are going around saying "hot dog" and "Whoopee" and such things.  Yep, guess we finally hit the jackpot.  Had a full day of lessons.  The gang all came over tonite for a game of monopoly and Clary + Doc teased me about the cigarette smoke.  - Annette, January 1941

 

Can you guess what that "funny feeling" was?  Annette and Clary had just started their adventures in China when they discovered they were going to have a baby.  My grandparents were newlyweds - not even married a year yet.  How exciting....and a little bit terrifying?!  These days, pregnancy preparation can mean specialized nutrition, baby showers, birthing classes, and regular check-ups.  Here in China, it meant trying to get enough calories to feed yourself and the life inside you.  It meant tearing up old clothes and sheets to sew baby clothes and blankets.  It meant doing your work every day because you were the only one out there who could.  For some mothers, that is still the reality.  We can't always control the circumstances of bringing new life into the world.  But there can still be a "Whoopee!"

He Is So Feeble

Well here again have I arrived at another birth-day.  The come around only too fast.  Why I'll soon be an old woman.  I am looking for Annie + the Dr. on the 17th - their first visit since they were married.  Pa came over when Annie was married, he is so feeble.  I fear he will not live long - but we all pray that the good Lord will spare him to us yet many years longer.  - Frances, February 1892

 

Frances has arrived at her 28th birthday, and already she feels like an old woman!  Twenty eight seems so young, even to me as a still-young person in my 30s!  How many times do we tell ourselves we are 'too old'?  We have so much to handle in our lives - sometimes, it does seem like the years start slipping away.  Frances is excited to see her sister, Annie, and her new brother-in-law.  Remembering their recent wedding, she thinks back to how her father looked - feeble, frail.  So often it is the burden of adult children to worry about their aging parents.  It is painful, and often overwhelming, to watch a loved one move through the last years of their lives.  It can certainly make you feel older than you are.

I Don't Want Him To Be Scared

Trying to keep my regular life going.  Worked today, went to the gym, practiced 1 hour.

But Daddy is dying.

All that work and planning for Assisted Living facilities, budget, disability, social security.  Now the cancer is back.  And here are the options:

1 - no treatment - die soon

2 - methotrexate into spine - 3-4 months

3 - port into his brain to do smaller doses of methotrexate - 3-4 months

I just want him to talk about it.  I'm scared he won't be ready for death.  But he has never dealt with the reality of his body.  I don't want him to be scared.  I don't want him to be alone.  He's in denial or maintaining hope.  I want someone to tell me how to deal with this.  I'm angry.  I get angry at people.  And I'm angry with God.  It's not fair.

Look at me, trying to tell a dying man how to feel about death.  I just don't want him to be scared.  to be afraid until the very end.  - Miranda, July 2007 

 

I had just turned 26.  This was my dad's third round of cancer.  Tumors on his adrenal glands were treated with chemotherapy.  The metastasized brain tumors brought rounds of radiation.  During all those treatments, I was handling his finances - making sure bills were paid, etc.  My brother, sister, and I were looking at facilities for my dad, because he could barely walk and was becoming increasingly blind.  I learned all about different chemo drugs, ports, radiation masks - information I wish I never had to learn.  I wish that no one had to learn about that.  I was trying to live my life, just like anyone else, but I was also a caretaker.  Emotions came in waves, or all at once.  Reading (and writing) this makes me cry.  I don't really remember much from that time in my life.  Grief is a funny thing.  The things I remember are the simple ones, like a stranger holding the door for me at a store.  You never really know what someone else is going through.  Patience and kindness can sometimes do more for someone than we will ever know. 

But I Wasn't A Bit Afraid

Our friends paid us another visit today but I wasn't a bit afraid.  We were in the dung at the tennis court and felt quite safe.  Their aim today was the new air field and we heard a couple 500 pounders were dropped.  We're going to get a new cook in about a month.  - Annette, June 1941

 

The 'friends' she mentions are Japanese (enemy) airplanes.  A small cave near their house provided shelter for most air raids, but there were other safe spaces around the campus where they lived.  Annette had been in China just a few months, and already she was accustomed to planes dropping bombs overhead.  Her diary entry for the day - bombs were dropped, but I wasn't scared.  Other important news?  A new cook!  Food was an important part of their work in China.  Annette kept recipes and records of meals, and wrote often about food she prepared, both with a cook's help and on her own.  Food is comfort.  How often do we use food to temper the stressful, or scary, times in our lives?

Lovely Moonlit Nite

Elsie came over tonite + helped me with my sweater.  Doc + Clary came in for tea + then we all went out and went sliding on Shoyin's slide.  Lovely Moonlit nite.  The slide was lots of fun.            - Annette, September 1941

 

Sometimes we need a little time to decompress.  Our lives are serious.  We have important decisions to make.  Annette and Elsie were both mothers, raising their babies in a foreign land, making their own clothes as well as clothes and toys for the kids.  Imagine the simple joy of sneaking out to play on a child's playground.  To unleash your inner child - what a luxury!  And yet, simple pleasures can sometimes keep us sane.

Time To Have Fun With It

Rehearsal went well.  Played on my backup reed, but it still sounded ok.  Need to work on a few spots tomorrow during warmup, and that'll be fine.  It's so so exciting.  I can't wait to play tomorrow.  In my pretty dress & my pretty shoes.  I am ready for this.  I have worked so hard and it's time to have fun with it.  My solo.  Yay!  - Miranda, October 2007

 

I remember that feeling.  After just a few years of living in Atlanta, I was asked to play the Mozart Concerto for Clarinet with a regional orchestra.  It was a little orchestra (and doesn't exist anymore), but I didn't care.  I had worked on that piece for years and had never played it with an orchestra before.  A big milestone.  And I still have the dress I wore.  I love that dress.  I felt confident and professional - not always the case, unfortunately.  At 26 years old, I was supporting myself as a professional classical musician in Atlanta.  How could I be anything but excited??

And Every Woman Should

Our dear little baby girl is three weeks old to-day and we love her just as much as if she had been here three years.  It is strange how a mother's heart will "go out" towards the dear little creatures.  We are so proud of our son and daughter.  Mrs. Cleveland is no prouder of little Ruth that we are of our little Gesna.  Our boy too is a perfect little man just learning to prattle.  I ought to feel so thankful for Gods mercies - and every woman should.  - Frances, October 1891

 

Strange.  Creatures.  Should.  Are these loaded words?  Or phrases common at the time?  There is love there, but also a hint of obligation.  Even in her personal writing, there is comparison to other families.  Maybe she is surprised by the motherly feelings she experiences.  Thankful to God, yes, but also wrestling with what she 'ought to feel.'  So many emotions.  How often do we compare ourselves?  How often are we conflicted by what we feel and what society expects?

Wonder What I Did

The guys all had a meeting this afternoon so I fixed supper.  Made a tamale pie + I liked it fine, but of course I didn't make enough for them.  Made ice cream too + then discovered we had no more snow to freeze it with.  Clary + Paul both felt bad tonight - they said from my cooking.  Gosh, wonder what I did.  Doc was in bed today with malaria.  - Annette, January 1942

 

In 1942, Annie was living in Enshih, China.  Clary, my grandfather, managed the business of running the church, while Annie and the other missionary wives tended to the orphanage (mostly girls), taught English, played music for church services, and whatever else needed doing.  Not only is she in completely foreign territory, but she is also a relatively new wife.  She wants to please her husband by making meals he likes, but she also has limited ingredients and minimal equipment.  Whether 'the guys' were teasing her or not, she still took the criticism seriously.  Ice cream was always a real treat for them.  Then, a casual reference to their friend with malaria.  Most everyone they knew suffered from the disease at some point.  

With war all around her, sometimes the entries were simple.  Desire for good food, a little treat, wishes for good health.  All things we think about daily.

The Three Journals

Many, many years ago, I read my grandmother's diary.  It wasn't as sneaky as it sounds.  It was more like a rite of passage.  The journal came to me in a big, red 3-ring binder with page after page of handwritten entries - one for each day - from January 1941 through April 1944.  She and my grandfather were missionaries in China during WWII, so there were stories of air raids, food shortages, downed pilots, and more.  I was captivated - but not always by the historical context.  What struck me the most was the emotion - her disappointment when a recipe flopped, her excitement when a Redbook magazine arrived, her joy when her sons were born.  The real-life account of a woman in her mid-20s as she navigated the world around her.

As a child, I loved to bake.  My mother taught me the recipe for the family pound cake - which is still both my go-to gift and my guilty pleasure.  Later I learned that the original baker of that pound cake also kept a diary.  My great great grandmother lived in Alabama with her husband, children, and 'housekeeping staff' in the late 1800s.  Her diary entries, also from her mid 20s, give a glimpse into her world - her struggles, joys, and fears.  Every time I baked that cherished pound cake, I thought more about the similarities between the two diaries of my ancestors.

All my life I have kept diaries and journals.  The writing process clears my head.  In the days before Amazon, I remember searching every bookstore and gift shop for the perfect journal and pen - spiral-bound, unlined pages and gel ink.  Though my journal preferences evolved over time, the habit stuck with me.  I journaled extensively in my 20s - through graduate school, my first job and my first apartment, my father's struggle with cancer, and more.  My journal was my therapy.  Years later, I was finally able to go back and read my own writing.  The things that I struggled with seemed strangely similar to the diaries of my grandmother and great great grandmother.   

I love the humanity in these diaries - the details, the recipes, the stories, the lists.  Three women, three centuries, three very different circumstances, yet all three had common themes.  Love.  Family obligation.  Self doubt.  Financial worries.  Birth.  Death.  Purpose.  Fear.  

This blog is a journey through these three journals.  I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I have.