Strange things happening...."wooo-woo" stuff. We often get messages, we just don't always listen or "get" that there are messages. Often they are messages of alarm, danger, watch out. (Breaking my sunglasses was NOT a message I wanted today but I digress.) Sometimes they are "softer" messages. Messages of comfort, peace, love, joy and guidance.
|Dad, Mom and my sister|
Today (Feb. 5, 2014) is my mother's birthday. She would be 89. She was pretty psychic, eerily so. But that's another story.
As a historical preface to this tale you need to know that when I was a little girl, we had a wonderful Hungarian lady who would come in to clean house a couple of times a month. Mrs. (Margaret) Pilsy was her name (and I know I'm spelling that wrong!). She would pretty much tell my mother what she felt like doing on any given day.
Mom would politely ask her if she could do such-and-such. Often Mrs. Pilsy would announce, in her somewhat broken English, "All right, today I do this." Think TsaTsa Gabor without the coquetry.
But other times, she would look at my mother with a stern glance and say firmly, "No! Today I I-rrron! (Iron)" She would then attack the linens with vigor as she watched soap operas on TV. In my mind's ear, I can still hear her banging the iron against the ironing board. "Thump-iron-iron, thump, iron-iron..."
She brooked no nonsense from us kids. She would also tell me what I could have for lunch. Sometimes it was what I asked for. Sometimes not. She was kind of scary but we adored her!
On our birthdays she would make us a Hungarian torte. (The old softie!) A reall, multi-layered Hungarian torte with the hard-shell icing is very hard to make! My sister's favorite was the Dobos torte. As I recall, I love the chocolate torte and the mocha torte. My brother's was most definitely the Orange torte. He loved Orange torte and has often wistfully mentioned it over the years.
Just now, I called my sister who was just about to call ME. She related this story.
It being a gloomy, crappy, snowy day, my sister decided to make the only brownie recipe my mom ever made. It was from the old Joy Of Cooking cookbook. My sister has many delicious brownie recipes but she decided to haul out "Mom's" (i.e. Mother Joy Of Cooking), just to see if it's still any good. She gingerly opened up the old book, bound with a rubber band, casually thumbing through it. Tucked here and there, she finds several recipes in my mother's handwriting.
One catches her eye. Orange torte.
Orange Torte? It had to be Mrs. Pilsy's recipe. My mother was not a big baker. It is probably written as Mr. Pilsy would have instructed her.
Orange torte. Coincidence? No way.
It was Mom's way of saying, "I'm thinking about you....."