Summertime centerpieces.. it really doesn’t get much easier than this.

Step one: send your kids outside to grab a handful of flowers. (Remind them not to pick your roses or the flowers from the front of the house. Or from the front of the neighbors’ house.)

Step two: choose a vase, or a dish, or a pot, or even something offbeat like this depression glass ring mold that usually sits in the back of my cupboard. (Check out the window to see how the kids are doing. Ooooh and ahhh over their daring bike tricks. Ask them if they have decided which flowers they want to pick.)

Step three: half fill the dish with something to hold the flowers and give them stability; this is a great use for all those “pretty” rocks your kids are so good at finding. I’ve used some old seaglass here, but you also could tangle some vines (stripped of leaves) and fit them into your dish. Hecksakes, you could even go all out and buy yourself some florists foam, if you’re that sorta gal. (Step out onto the front porch and admire the chalk drawing the kids made on the sidewalk. Draw their attention to the flowers you secretly wanted them to pick. Wonder aloud if anyone knows how much you love those particular flowers… sigh. )

Step four: Into a quart of lukewarm water add three tablespoons of sugar and 2 tablespoons of white vinegar and fill dish two thirds full of the mixture. Reserve remainder for refreshing arrangement. (Check outside to see that kids are “almost done.” Exclaim with pleasure at the beauty of the flowers they have chosen and how fortunate you are to have such gifted flower-pickers in the family.)

Step five: strip leaves from the lower portions of the flower stems (the part that will be submerged in water) and carefully place flowers into dish. There are all sorts of methods of flower arrangement... I however, tend to stick with the What Looks Nice Method, mainly because it’s workin’ for me and also because I know nothing about arranging flowers, really. (This method also works best when one has the benefit of several small assistants… which of course… ya do! Yay!)

Step six: plunk one of Becky’s marvy candles smack dab in the middle. (Sniff every single one of the candles in the cupboard. Give everyone a chance to sniff every single one of the candles in the cupboard. Try and remember whose turn it is to choose the candle this week.)

Step seven: break out the milk and cookies. Admire your beautiful centerpiece. Tell the kids that you couldn’t have done it without ‘em. Because really, you couldn’t have.

And you wouldn’t even want to try. Nuh uh.

The girls with our booty in mason jars.
Millen is holding an antique milk can of Louisa’s
which doesn’t actually contain any milk. It does however look cute.
As does Millen, I might add.

Well…. what with piano lessons and grocery shopping, a certain little boy who was having schoolwork-related attitude difficulties and confounded milk trucks with their (unbeknownst to me) noontime pick-ups, we didn’t make it over to Mr. Yoder’s farm until almost seven o’clock last evening. As per usual at that time of the night, the deer were out in full force so it was slow driving. And being an Amish neighborhood there were few lights to help us other than the headlights of our van. So we crept slowly along, me shining those headlights along the mailboxes and Louisa calling off the numbers as we passed each one. We got a little bit lost and drove past the Yoder farm not once, but twice. Eventually however, we noticed the egg-shaped sign advertising EGGS FOR SALE, and recollecting that Mr. Yoder also sold eggs, astutely discerned that this particular farm was in fact the object of our quest. We’re so smart, oh yes we are.

Next to the egg-shaped sign was a long lane that led to a softly lit barn straight ahead and a large almost darkened farmhouse to the right. Yep, this looks like the place. We could see the cows in the barn and a young man moving about amongst them. We could see into the ” milk parlor” with it’s huge gleaming stainless steel tank and an assortment of permits and certificates tacked up in orderly rows along the wall. Yup, definitely the right place. At the door we were met by a smiling sweet young woman in a black fringed kerchief. I’m thinking she was Mr. Yoder’s daughter. The young man, probably Mr. Yoder’s son, came in from the barn, oh-so-carefully drew our milk for us, very seriously took our money and advised us that mornings between eight and ten is probably the best time to come for milk. Next Tuesday we’ll be back, I told him. Between eight and ten.

On the way home we were practically giddy. Louisa brought along her cheese making book and was sharing all of the particulars of making cream cheese vs. cottage vs. cheddar. Amelia decided that she’d start having a big glass of milk every morning first thing. I was wondering if perhaps I should have bought three gallons instead of only two. And now that I think of it, maybe I should invest in a couple more half gallon mason jars. Millen thought we needed cookies.

Millen turned out to be the right-est among us. We most definitely needed cookies. Amelia quickly whipped up a little batch of peppermint chippers and we each had two cookies along with a nice cold glass of milk before we went to bed.

Best bedtime snack EVAH. Mhmm. O yeah.