Welcome back to my kitchen!
As a kid and teenager, The Folks religiously invested in private music classes for me. I had zero interest in learning to play the piano, but The Folks insisted. Every week, since age seven, I headed off to piano lessons. I had two piano teachers. One who believed in me and one, who literally didn’t think I had any talent whatsoever, but she cashed my parent’s check each week. As a seventh grader, The Folks insisted, in addition, I start taking weekly voice lessons. I enjoyed participating in our church’s youth and bell choirs. I never had the guts to sing a solo– let alone sing outside our home. The Folks knew I loved to sing as did Grandma Jones.
After graduating from high school, I went off to a private Lutheran college and then, law school. Music fell by the wayside for law books, politics, and reality tv.
One thing always rang loud and true.
Every December, no matter what, as a ten-year-old or twenty-five-year-old, I went to Lorie Line’s Christmas extravagant concert. As a kid, it was big deal. Traveling from small town Minnesota to the big city of Fargo and then, Minneapolis, to take in Lorie’s concerts. When The Hubs and I started dating, I insisted that we as a family, (aka Team Beehler) head to Minneapolis for her concert. I think Em thought the idea of listening to two hours of piano Christmas music was worse than watching golf on television. I traded attending a hockey game with The Hubs to get him interested. Both fell in love, too, with Lorie’s show.
Lorie has been a silent mentor in my life. She didn’t even know a “Jayne Jones” existed until a year or so ago. We take in every show we can and all of us (The Folks, Em, The Hubs and I) marvel, not only at her talent—but her commitment to her values, her faith and I have to admit, I love Lorie’s fabulous style, classy knack for entertaining and love of baking traditional recipes. She’s someone I could sit for hours and chat about America, our families, God, Minnesota, garage sales, bargain hunting and never blink a glance at the time.
When I first got sick and even after Hot Doctor helped me get my eyesight back, my love of singing took a toll of its own. Reading sheet music was suddenly damn near impossible. It scared me. You see—as The Hubs says—I sing loud—at church and for our national anthem. My voice leads our congregation—thankfully as a kid, I sat between The Folks in the church pew and learned every Lutheran hymn. Before getting sick, I would sing solos monthly at church. We stayed close to home when I was sick, avoiding any possible “accidents” and any attention to what was wrong with me.
For a few months, no one asked me to sing—whew! Then, I got asked to sing. My heart choked up in my throat. I knew I had to do it—give it a try.
Needless to say, The Folks don’t miss a volleyball game for Em or a church solo for me. They show up. They are present and still parenting forty-six years later.
That Sunday in November, I was scared—not at all for the solo singing—it had become old hat. Instead, a fear of what if I can’t see the music (my secret would be out) or what if my emotions got the best of me. You see along with inheriting diabetes, I also inherited sensitive genes. The Hubs calls me a faucet, once the tears start they just keep a flowing no matter what. I never yell, scream. Instead I cry. I was scared, will I be able to sing the whole song without showing my personal emotion.
The pure emotion of being downright thankful—for the gift of music, the gift of a big ol’ voice and for improved health and Hot Doctor!
The song I picked to sing was new to me—I never heard it in my life. I randomly found it online last minute. It was perfect—the words and verses meant something to me—there couldn’t be a more eloquent written song for that moment– “Thank You Lord For The Music.”
When I was singing, I took a quick glance, at the pew of The Folks and The Hubs. All three of my team were wiping tears. After I got done, The Hubs fist bumped me and said, of course, your parents are crying.
What? I guess I wasn’t supposed to notice his teary red shot eyes too. I made it through the song with a dry eye. As I sat back in the pew, the tears flowed. I couldn’t help it—I was thankful.
The joy of singing—the gift of music—my faith unchallenged.
Back to Lorie. She’s been given a talented gift to share the gospel through her fingers, piano and values. I’m thankful for the 30+ years her music has impacted my life and continues to each and every day.
Lorie shared with me her favorite no sugar recipe. The Hubs and I made them last weekend. I was a bit nervous about a sugar free sugar and its taste. I called The Folks raving to them about. They sort of blew me off. Then, they made them the following weekend. My dad says they are the best pancakes he’s ever had.
It’s a winner. Music is a victory—in more ways than one! Be thankful. Be present.
We’re on a roll. Life is sweet.
All this made with LOVE!
Jayne (aka The No Sugar Baker!)
(PS The Folks edit every post I write—they said, both of them were wiping tears after reading this one—I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!)
Lorie Line’s No Sugar Baker German Pancakes
(Lorie said, “I got this recipe from a young woman came to live with us from Germany when I was growing up. She helped my mom take care of us, cooked for us, did the laundry, etc. In her family, she had a recipe that she shared with us that is a staple in my kitchen. It is super easy, always good, and NO SUGAR! I make them every weekend.”)
1 C. Heavy Whipping Cream or Milk
2 T. Vanilla
2/3 C. Flour or Almond Flour
1/2 t Salt
Put in a blender and mix thoroughly. Pour a good size pancake (batter) on a buttered skillet. Flip when slightly browned until the other side is golden. (I added some sugar free dark chocolate chips to a few pancakes—yum!!)
Serve with butter and sugar free warm syrup.