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This Month’s Cover:

Digital Art

by Southwoods

DIRECT MAILED to 13,500 homes & businesses

in the towns of Southwick, Westfield, Feeding Hills, Tolland,

Granville and Northern Connecticut (West Suffield, Granby and beyond).

Serving Massachusetts and Connecticut

Publisher: Carole Caron

Editor: Lyssa Peters

Layout/Design Artists:

Martin Lee, Cole Ludorf

Advertising Consultant: Carole Caron

Brrr! By Alice Charland .................................................... 3

November 1949 By Clifton J. (Jerry) Noble Sr ............ 4

Southwick: Mystery of our Name By James Putnam II .. 8

Canal Days By Thelma Montovani ................................10

The Blue Jay By Walter Fertig ..................................... 14

Country Cooking By Mary Kvarnstrom ....................... 15

Think Thanks By Jeff King ...........................................16

No Need to Fear November By Marcia Helland ......... 20

Thanksgiving Thoughts By Bernadette Gentry ...........21

How the Cranberry Came to Cape Cod

By Carol Leonard ......................................................... 22

Community Calendar .................................................. 22

Classifieds ..................................................................23

Through the remainder of this year, Southwoods will be running past articles retelling stories of Southwick’s past for the upcoming celebration of Southwick’s 250th Anniversary.


As the air gets crisper and winds more blustery, millions of New Englanders turn their thoughts to one issue: how to keep warm without turning the thermo-stat up.

Besides the long johns, sweaters, and TV sacks, here are a few more tips to warm the cockles of your heart, and hope-fully, the rest of your body as well . . .

If you own an electric blanket, but don’t feel comfortable sleeping with it on or have the misfortune to be married to a cheapskate who won’t let you keep it on, don’t be dis-mayed. You can do one of two things. Turn the heat on half an hour before you retire, then switch it off. This will at least spare you from cold-sheet-shock syndrome. And once the bed is warmed up your body heat will take over to keep it warm. Or, don’t turn it on at all. Spread the blanket as smoothly as possible underneath your bottom sheet. Your body will heat up the wires in the blanket, and reflect the heat back up to you. You have to actually try this idea to see how well it works. And it works, fast, too!

If you’re getting enough vitamins and minerals, but still get feet and leg cramps at night, try keeping your feet and legs extra warm. Wool socks and leg warmers may look a lit-tle strange, but it sure beats waking up out of a sound sleep to jump out of bed and pace the bedroom floor in agony.

A nightcap is not necessarily something you drink (al-though a little shot of brandy will warm yur innards nicely). A nightcap is also something you wear to bed. It will give you a quaint, nostalgic look and at the same time keep your body heat from escaping through the top of your head. (Did you know that at least 40% of your body heat escapes this way?)

If you are going to use the oven at any time during the day, schedule it for early morning. This will help take the morning chill out of the house, and make it less of a strain on your heating system to keep the house warm afterwards. Also, you could have supper made early in the day and have time for a nap in the afternoon!!

Now that you’ve put on a few pounds from all the good-ies you’ve been baking early in the morning, why not start an exercise program? Invite the neighbors over to join you. Nothing warms the room up faster than a bunch of sweaty people doing jumping jacks! And come spring when you peel the long johns off, you’ll be glad to see your body’s in half-decent shape!

Curl up in a recliner or armchair with your kids, a blanket, and a stack of books (teenagers may resist!) The housework can wait. It’s hard to work with numb fingers, anyway.

If all else fails, keep your husband home. Even if he can’t bake, he can generate body heat!

Nov 1984


By Clifton J. (Jerry) Noble Sr.

My widowed mother, Minnie E. Noble, nicknamed “Hester” by me, was 62 this month. I was 23. May 1st we started Montgomery living in our remodeled country schoolhouse without electricity or running water. I had worked two years in a survey party for Massachusetts Department of Public Works and was now transitman. I’d just replaced my 1948 Crosley car with a new 1949 Plymouth. Work in Greenfield District 2 had slowed, and we were transferred to the Cape. My journal gives November doings.

November 12, 1949, Saturday. The week of October 31 to November 4 I drove my new Plymouth to Provincetown so Hester could go with me and spend the week. Party chief, Louis Johnson, Ernie Rapisarda and I stay at the Anchor and Ark Club. I got a room for Hester with the Cordeiros at the Standish. She took many walks and ate with extreme economy. Wednesday

evening I took her and Ernie for a ride out to Race Point lighthouse.

Tuesday night was windy. High tide water is only several feet below the “Anchor’s” parking area. Great waves against the sea wall sent fountains of salt spray to soak parked cars. About ten I went out and moved the Plymouth up the hill.

The Anchor and Ark has a piano. I tried to play during supper when no one was around, but the F-sharp key stuck and the landlord liked to talk so I didn’t get much done.

Allen Jensen, from Quincy, a Senior Engineering Aid (like me) engaged our third floor rooms for us. He is inspector for a Chapter 90 resurfacing job on Bradford Street. He is in room number six, Louis has eight, and Ernie and I share number nine. Jensen is very social. He came to our room at 9:30 to read magazines. Ernie went out and didn’t come back. It became a game of how to avoid “Kid Dooflicker” as Ernie calls Jensen.

Friday there was a cloudburst. Louis, with the state carryall and Ernie, and Hester and I in the Plymouth, started home. At new construction we found mud a foot deep with a school bus stuck in it. We made a seven mile detour through South Truro to rejoin the state highway at Wellfleet. I followed Louis to Taunton where he took Route 140 to stay in Massachusetts.

Hester and I went on through Rhode Island but were stopped by a state trooper in Dighton. He was very nice. No charges. Later I discovered that a wrong gear makes my speedometer read 20% slow.

Home again on Saturday I piled firewood, and fitted plywood panels to block cracks in the front door. I also blocked holes in the shed wall which let cold drafts into the kitchen.

Hester had planned to stay alone at the schoolhouse but changed her mind and caught the 2:30 bus to Westfield to stay with Minnie Finney.

I went to P’town in the truck with Louis and Ernie. The

Anchor and Ark Club in 1949, Provincetown, MA. Photo by A.E. Rapisarda

Nov 2009


first night we escaped “Dooflicker” by going to bed early. Next night he missed us at supper and knocked on our door. Ernie was writing postcards and I was in bed. We turned out the light. We heard him ask Louis where we were. Loius said, “They’re in there.” Jensen opened our door and barged right in. Ernie crouched over the bedside table writing cards. His bags and clothes filled the easy chair and mine draped the straight chair. Ernie’s bed was littered with paper and stamps. Mr. Jensen the impeccable sounded miffed and didn’t stay long.

At work on a Truro hill I heard a bullet whine. Then Louis heard one and said, “Let’s get out of here.” We heard no shot sounds to reveal whence the bullets came.

Wednesday night Loius got a phone call from Supervisor Bob Broomhead that Tattan wanted us back in District 2. We were hilarious. I even played a game of pool with Ernie and lost every ball. After clearing up loose ends in our work we turned over the survey books to Slade’s party and left for home.

Our three-burner cooking plate in the kitchen has been using gas from our first tank for seven months. We have ordered three cords of wood from Percy Helms as the living room stove takes it fast this cool weather. Hester pulled up some seedling hemlocks and I set them out along the stone wall and in back of the well.

Louis gave me a broken 100-foot steel tape and loaned me the mending kit. If I can make a reel for it, I can make a tape survey of my property.

November 25, 1949, Friday. The pump on the well froze Monday night and it took several editions of newspaper to thaw it out. Tuesday and Wednesday the temperature went to 14 degrees in some places.

We attend Sunday evening service at the Advent Christian Church which pleases Uncle Ralph. Before church we went to a birthday party for Minnie Finney.

Yesterday we went to Uncle Ralph’s on Mort Vining Road in Southwick for Thanksgiving dinner. All five sons (except

Ralph Junior) and spouses were there, also daughter Mabel and husband, Howard Johnson.

Today I completed the door with mirror for Hester’s bedroom closet. Hester likes the house very warm. Working in briefs I was surprised by visitors. I dropped the door and smashed the mirror. Luckily I had another one the same size to put in.

The callers were Myron and Etta Kelso. Just as they left Mary Rivard walked up the road. She went by to see the new bridge over Bear Den Brook and stopped in on her way back.

November 27, 1949, Sunday. Snow all day. Charles Peckham was over in the pine woods beyond the meadow cutting trees for lumber. I went to help. On leaving, Charlie found he had left his bag of saw-adjusting tools in the woods. For twenty minutes we searched where he thought he had left them. Finally I affirmed, “With God there is nothing lost.” About 25 feet in a new direction I found the bag almost covered with snow.

Percy Helms delivered our last order of firewood, and I helped him unload. Coming up the mountain he almost slid off the road. After dinner I piled wood beside the house, brushing off each piece and covering it. Three cords isn’t very big.

After dark I walked two miles to Russell for the newspaper. It took about 25 minutes going down. Coming back, Joe Rusin picked me up at the river bridge and brought me as far as his place, so I was home 20 minutes before Hester expected me. Three cars without chains have passed since snow got deep. This gives me courage for tomorrow. Deer season opens December 5 through 10. I believe the daily hours are 6:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. I hope there won’t be many hunters around here.




What a great name! It’s short, easy to say. It’s distinc-tive, being the only Southwick in the United States. It seems appropriate, being on the southern border of Massachu-setts, and indeed a few miles further south than all of the other towns from Webster to Sheffield on the 100-mile boundary with Connecticut. It’s not usually prone to confusion, other than the small hamlet of Southfield, Mass. farther west, and of course Southwick’s Zoo in Mendon.

So how did our town come to have this name? It’s a mystery. When the residents petitioned the Massachusetts provincial government to be separated from Westfield, they referred to themselves as being from the “Southardly part of Westfield.” When the approved charter finally came back from Boston, the

name was Southwick. Who in Boston chose this name and their rationale is lost to history.

As a child I was told that Southwick was a manufactured word referring to the South Bailiwick of Westfield. Drop the “Baili” from the middle and you have Southwick. Bailiwick is an old English term for town or vicinity. Again, there is no evi-dence that anyone in Westfield or what later became Southwick was referring to this area as a bailiwick. There is some logic, however, to an obscure colonial official in distant Boston coin-ing the name based on what he was reading about “Southardly part” in the petition.

Any good mystery has more than one plausible explanation. The second “suspect” is that the name honored someone with the last name Southwick. From the earliest days of settlement, Southwicks had emigrated from England to the Massachusetts Bay Colony:

John Southwick arrived in Salem sometime between 1620 and 1650

Lawrence Southwick, a Quaker, arrived in Salem in 1630

Provided Southwick settled in Salem in 1639 (Yes, Pro-vided was a first name back then!)

Lawrence Southwick’s descendants were quite successful in


The Mystery of Our Name


The Mystery of Our Name

Photo of Broad Street looking south. Gladys Reed’s horse is drinking from the watering trough at the intersection of what is now College Highway and Depot Street

by James Putnam II


the North Shore area. Today, there is a historic Southwick House built by that family around 1750 in Peabody, Mass.

Certainly Mass. towns were sometimes named after famous people Amherst, Lee, Belchertown, Warren, Washington, and Hancock are all from this genre. However, there is no prominent person named Southwick from that era who would seemingly have risen to the honor of having a new town in western Mass. named after them. So, this is probably the least likely explanation, unless there were some sort of 18th century “inside job” by someone named Southwick!

That brings us to what I view as the most plausible explanation. Southwick and several of its name variations are a fairly common place name in England, akin to how common Springfield is across the USA today. Last year, my friend and likely distant rela-tive Robert Putnam in England told me that there are dozens of places named Southwick. It’s an old name going back to Anglo-Saxon times, i.e., 410 to 1066 AD. If a more elegant yet traditional English name was needed for a newly incorporated town calling itself the “Southardly part,” why not a common, traditional place name from Old England? Recall that in 1770, the Province of Massachusetts Bay was still very much part of the British Empire despite developing political tensions such as the Boston Massacre early that year.

There are Mass. place names with a direct connection to a place in England, e.g., Plymouth and Springfield. There is absolutely no evidence of any such connection for Southwick. It was being settled by families who had already lived in New England for several generations, moving in from older towns. Besides, the name seems to have been assigned in Boston and not locally.

Southwick 250 recently formed a friendship with the Town of Southwick in the Adur Administrative District on England’s south coast. Knowing that there was no direct connection other than the name of which we are equally proud, we agreed to call ourselves Southwick Neighbors across the Pond. It will be fun sharing and learning about the natural beauty, heritage, community and pride of each other’s Southwick on both sides of the Atlantic.

Now let’s speculate on possible alternative names!

Southardly seems awkward.

South Westfield seems prone to confusion, and certainly fails to be unique.

Poverty Plains, the original name for the first settlement around The Ranch and the old Southwick Golf Course, would surely have had negative connotations.

Congamuck, the original Nipmuck name for our lakes, might not have stood the test of time. Anyway, in 1770, the fate of our jog and its two southern ponds was still in question.

While we’ll likely never know for sure, all of this is just my view. Here’s an added bonus. “Southwick means a south dairy farm” in the original Saxon language from over 1,000 years ago ( Tim Lambert). Given all of the family dairy farms that once dotted the gentle hills of our Southwick, especially to the west of Route 10, this seems like an especially fitting coincidence to the name Southwick.

So, we became Southwick on November 7, 1770. It’s a wonderful name for a great community of hard-working Americans of diverse origins and beliefs. Be proud!


In February 1823 the Hampshire and Hampden Canal Company was incorporated and secured a charter authorizing it to construct and operate a canal from the Connecticut River through the towns of Northampton, Easthampton, Southampton, Westfield and Southwick, to the Connecticut line; there to connect with the contemplated Farmington canal running from New Haven northward to the state line.

Money for the construction of the canal was to be raised by bond subscriptions. Both canal companies experienced difficulty in collecting the pledges. Subscriptions came in slowly that construction could not start. Finally in 1826, it was decided to merge the stock of both companies.

Actual work on the canal commenced on November 1, 1826, in Southwick Village near the state line and was soon followed at points between there and Westfield. To construct such a canal today would be a comparatively minor roble, but 150 years ago it was an engineering feat of gigantic proportions. Power was

in the backbone and muscle of men, horses and oxen. The work was let out to local subcontractors and the can was built in sections.

The Congamond Lakes, then called the Southwick ponds, were utilized as far as available, a channel having been cut to join the north and middle ponds. From the ponds, the canal extended through the Powder Mill Brook section into Shaker Village, to Little River and northwest to the Basin at Westfield Harbor. The railroad tracks of the New Haven & Northampton Railroad later followed the canal route through Westfield.

At last in 1829 the canal was pushed across the state line. On the first Monday in October the canal boat “Sachem” of Granby came up to the locks opposite Southwick Village and within five miles of the Basin in Westfield Harbor. It carried 150 passengers accompanied by a band of music.

A month later the “General Sheldon”, built and owned by M.Z. Bosworth of Westfield, was launched at the Westfield Basin. On December 9th this canal boat left on her first voyage to New Haven. On the return trip her cargo consisted of coal, salt, molasses, oranges, codfish and flour.

There were two types of boats used on the canal. In reality they were huge ponderous barges with low superstructures, towed by means of a long rope or ropes, by horses or mules walking along the towpath.

One type was called a packet. On these, excursions were held with honeymooners and sightseers, many of the packers servicing excellent meals and all heightened by band music. Usually some cargo was also on board.

The boats passed into the locks from a pond basin, these being the only points where the boats passed each other. There was a bumping post as the entrance of each lock. While the

Oct 1982


tedious wait for raising and lowering the water in the locks was progressing, taverns and inns situated nearby did a thriving business.

Almost all the pleasure boats recorded capacity from 150 to 250 passengers, plus the service crew. There was a huge tiller at the rear, which the captain of the boat managed, and ladies and gentlemen’s cabins fore and aft respectively. On top of these was the promenade deck, provided with benches and ascended by stairs and surrounded by a rail. As there were many low bridges under which to pass during the trip to New Haven, people were constantly going up and down these stairs to allow passage of the boat.

Quite often two horses ridden by small boys and driven tandem were used on the towing path, but for hard pulls of heavy cargo, two spans of horses up to five were used. Sometimes oxen pulled the cargo boats. Long tin horns called for the opening of the locks and summoned the passengers as well.

The ladies cabin forward was usually painted in bright colors, while more somber shades were used for the gentlemens cabin. Hulls were crimson with a wide white band at the water line. The superstructure, which consisted of the combined cabins set on deck, was another color. Each cabin was low and narrow, with its small windows brightly curtained in calico. Some of the canal boats dispensed hard liquors at a bar in the men’s cabin.

Both cabins were fitted with berths, which were tipped up against the walls in daytime, out of the way of tables and chairs set up for serving meals. Meals, like sleeping accommodations, would be included in the cost of the ticket. Let down at night, the berths were furnished with blankets and linens and surrounded by curtains for privacy.

Washrooms (small tiny cubicles with toilets) were provided with an ample supply of water. The meals were excellent, with each boat captain striving to outdo his competitors. In May 1841 it was recorded that from Westfield to New Haven was $2.25 or $3.75 if bed and meals were included. Advertisements told of boats “handsomely fitted up”.

The second type of canal boat was pure barge with old scow lines. They, too, were gaudily painted. These were the freight boats and were equipped with cookstove lockers and usually four bunks for the crew. Barges carried the products of the north to New Haven; chiefly wood, shingles, cider, hides, potatoes, pork, wool in bales, tar, turpentine, cheese,

charcoal, lumber and agricultural products. Coming back from New Haven, the cargoes were of coal (which was hitherto unobtainable above tidewater and very costly), rum. Carved rosewood parlor sets upholstered in horsehair, and occasional pianoforte, salt, oil, oysters and iron work such as stoves.

The trip along the canal through the country must have been very comfortable for people who had never dreamed of a parlor car and who were in no nervous haste to reach their destination. They had never conceived of any faster mode of travel than by relays of horses, over roads which made speed bone-racking.

One aspect of the canal is the romance and fun it provided. In winter, skating parties were organized and races held, in summer, swimming parties and innumerable picnics frolicked along its banks where the children and grown ups, too, could watch the colorful proceedings as the boats passed by. On holidays there were special excursions and many visits and pleasurable trips were made from town to town. Many a happy couples idled downstream in a homemade row boat. Parents traveled to commencement exercises at Yale College by canal boat and mothers sent laundry and packages to their offsprings at Williston Academy. The canal indeed brought much interest and excitement into the lives of those it touched.

Until the winter of 1847-48, the canal was an active operation. Although extraordinary maintenance expenses ate up what otherwise would have gone into dividends. In 1845, although business was excellent, the Directors realized that the railroad was the coming means of transportation and secured an amendment to their charter permitting construction and operation of a railroad intended to handle passenger and express business, the canal to carry the heavy freight.

With the opening of the first section of the Canal Railroad through Plainville, Connecticut, it was at once seen that the public wanted only the railroad service and the canal was not again officially operated, although for some time parts of it were used at their own risk by owners of canal boats.

The canal had served well. A gigantic enterprise in a colorful era, it made a great contribution the growth and expansion of both Connecticut and Massachusetts.

Excerpted for Westfield, Massachusetts, 1669-1969, Edited by Edward C. Janes & Roscoe S. Scott, Copyright 1968, Westfield Tri-Centennial Assn., Inc.

Canal from left bank of

Congamond Lake opposite Babb’s

Beach. From Southwick Bicentennial Book




“There’s more to a blue jay than any other creature,” wrote Mark Twain. Indeed, few wild animals can rival the blue jay in the beauty of its plumage, its repertoire of sound or in its ability to adapt to man. For these reasons, the blue jay has become one of America’s best known and most popular birds.

Nearly everyone has come in contact with this species at one time or another. Jays are distributed throughout eastern North America and are commonly found year round. The bird’s elegant crest, dapper blue coat and black necklace readily distinguish it from all other birds.

The feature for which the blue jay is best known is its vocal ability. Blue jays are noisy and call frequently, whether they are alone or in a flock. Much of their shrieking is directed at enemies and serves to warn other animals of danger. But often it seems the jay is crowing solely for its own pleasure.

Blue jays are accomplished mimics of other birds. They emit a whispery song similar to the vocalizations of wrens, chickadees and other small songbirds. Jays can also imitate the harsh screams of their dread enemies, the hawks.

The only time the blue jay becomes quiet is during the spring nesting season. In courting a mate, the male jay

collects twigs and brings food. If his offerings are found to be acceptable, the pair will proceed to search for a nesting site in a thicket of evergreens. Once a suitable branch is found, the birds construct a nest from twigs, bark, grass, and if near civilization, roadside litter.

Both birds actively defend their nest. The 4-6 speckled eggs hatch within two and a half weeks of being laid. Over the next three weeks the male is kept busy providing for himself, his mate, and the giant appetites of his brood.

Fortunately for the male bird, jays are not fussy eaters. Their diet is made up mostly of vegetative matter, supplemented by insects, spiders, mice, frogs and salamanders. During the spring, blue jays are a major predator of crop-eating caterpillars, and provide a beneficial service for farmers and home gardeners alike.

Jays also aid man by helping perpetuate their forest habitat. In the fall, blue jays feed heavily on acorns and nuts, and will often bury them underground for future use. Some of these acorns are forgotten and will eventually grow into new white oaks. When chestnuts were more abundant, jays inadvertently helped plant them as well.

In spite of their many benefits to man, blue jays have acquired a bad reputation among some bird lovers. Jays are criticized for their belligerent behavior at the backyard bird feeder and for occasionally feeding on the eggs and nestlings of other songbirds. John James Audubon’s portrait of the blue jay depicting a flock attacking a nest has done much to brand the bird with a rogue image. In truth, jays are not major threats to other birds and their reputation is largely overblown.

Blue jays themselves have many enemies, especially hawks, owls and other birds of prey. Jays are most vulnerable to attack in open fields and pastures and therefore are more commonly found in forested areas.

The bird that blue jays seem to fear and hate the most is the owl. If a flock of jays encounters and owl in the woods during the day, they will mob it relentlessly until it retires deeper into the forest. When night time comes, however, jays treat owls with more discretion.

Before the advent of home bird feeding, blue jays were migratory. Each fall they would gather in large flocks and spend the winter in the southern states. While some jays still migrate, more and more stay behind to feed on man’s offerings.

The blue jay’s ability to adapt to man’s presence has aided the species’ survival. Even with the destruction of much of its original habitat, blue jays have been able to hold on and expand their range. Few other birds have been as successful at coping with man.

November 1984

Article and Artwork By Walter Fertig


November 1984

Sift flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt into large bowl. Beat eggs and sugar together in a medium size bowl with an electric mixer until fluffy. Stir in oil and carrots, mix well. Pour into dry ingredients moistened (do not over mix), stir in nuts. Pour in a greased and floured 10 inch tube pan..Bake in a slow oven (325 degrees) for 1 hour, or until the top springs back when lightly pressed with fingertip. Cool in a pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes. Loosen around the edges with spatula, turn out of the pan and cool completely. Frost as you wish.

Quick Carrot Cake

3 cups sifted all purpose flour

3 tsp. baking powder

2 tsp. baking soda

2 ½ tsp. Cinnamon

½ tsp. Salt

4 eggs

2 cups sugar

1 cup Crisco oil

2 junior size jars baby food carrots (7 1/2oz. each)

1 cup chopped walnuts

In a mixing bowl, cream shortening and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Com-bine flour, baking powder, nutmeg and salt; add to the creamed mixture alternately with milk. Fill greased muffin cups two thirds full. Bake at 350 degrees for 18 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool for 5 minutes be-fore removing from the pan to a wire rack. Dip doughnuts in melted butter or margarine then roll in cinnamon-sugar. Serve warm

Lazy Donuts

2 tbsp. plus 1 ½ teaspoons shortening

½ cup sugar

2 eggs

2 cups all purpose flour

2 tsp. Baking powder

½ tsp ground nutmeg

½ tsp. Salt

6 tbsp. Milk

Butter or margarine

Drain pineapple liquid into a measuring cup. Add enough milk to make one cup. Combine with egg and or-ange rind. In a separate bowl, sift together flour, sugar, bak-ing powder, salt, and nutmeg. Blend milk mixture into dry ingredients, along with the melted butter, mixing just until batter is blended. Stir in crushed pineapple. Spoon into light-ly buttered muffin pans. Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes or until golden and set. Cool slightly then remove from the pan and serve warm.

Pineapple Muffins

1 Can (8 ½ oz.) crushed pineapple

1 ½ tsp. Grated orange rind

¼ cup sugar

¼ tsp. Salt

¾ cup milk

¼ cup melted butter or margarine

1 egg slightly beaten

2 cups sifted all purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

¼ tsp. Nutmeg


All of us live in a tent. In fact, we live every day, and sleep every night, in one of two tents: Content or Discontent. How about you? Where have you been living lately?

You say, “Well, Jeff, under the circumstances …” What do you mean “under the circumstances?” What are you doing under the circumstances? You’re not going to be comfortable living under the circumstances any more than you’re going to be comfortable sleeping under your mattress!

Today I want to talk to you about rising above your circumstances rising above, with God’s help. This month as we celebrate Thanksgiving, let me give you three thoughts three simple thoughts that will move you from one tent to the other.

Ready? The