Category: safe house

How to get Cinnamon Rolls and the Keys to Dad’s Car

Do you want to see this author geek out? Just tell me you read something I wrote in a newspaper. It is like Christmas morning! Yes, I wrote the article. Yes, I thought it might be published. And yet, every time I cannot contain my joy. It is like opening a new book and smelling the pages (Confess true book lovers, you know you’re closet book sniffers).

The Deseret News Mormon Times (I know- didn’t we all rebrand ourselves?) published an article by several authors detailing the way they prepare for General Conference. It is filled with wonderful ideas. But, as for me and my house? We prepare with Celestia Sappenfield’s Cinnamon Rolls, lovingly known as Mom’s or Grandma’s Rolls. They have kept us together for General Conference for more than 40 years.

The only person happier than me to see the newspaper story was my dad, Jeffrey Sappenfield. You see, there is nothing my father loves better than reading a newspaper. Not on a Kindle, but a real paper newspaper. The kind that is thrown on your porch.

Growing up, my brother’s and sister’s knew that for my father, his mother, and all of the relatives, newspaper reading was to be taken seriously. All pages were to be read. Every front page story was to be discussed. And then the paper was folded lovingly for the next reader. My job was to cut out all the good political cartoons and paste them in my notebook.

We also knew that dad came home after 5 PM. He would walk in the door with the paper. He would sit in his lounger and read, cover to cover. if we wanted the keys to the car, we let dad finish the paper before we asked. It felt like an eternity.

Today is my father’s birthday. I won’t give away his age, but I will say the older I get, the younger he seems. It may be silly, but seeing an article in a newspaper about his family by his daughter (me!) was the perfect gift. Tonight, when I say my prayers, I will thank the appropriate person.

And here is the recipe!

Mom’s Cinnamon Rolls

Preheat Oven to 425

In this century – Use parchment paper on a thick Costco Baking Pan

In a very large bowl (Yeast hates metal)  add 1 and 1/2 cup water. Make sure it is 110 degree (Yeast likes warm)

Add 3 Tablespoons Yeast (Rapid rise is okay – use fresh new yeast)

Add 4 Tablespoons….or more…sugar

Let this rest for 15 minutes. Yes – the ENTIRE 15 minutes. Let the yeast have a party.

Add 2 eggs

3 Tablespoons oil (I like to use melted and cooled real butter)

Add 2 cups warm milk – 110 degrees (Not too hot! You will kill the yeast)

Mix

Take 1 Tablespoon of Salt and add it to a cup of flour and set it aside.

Gently mix in 4 cups flour

Add your 1 cup salt and flour

Add 3 more cups until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl

Cover with a damp cloth and place in a warm spot in your kitchen. Let the dough rise until double.

On a clean surface (There is more dough than you think) roll out the dough until it is a thick rectangle. Pour melted and cooled real butter allllll over it.

Mix a bag of brown sugar and cinnamon to taste. Sprinkle it generously all over the butter. Roll the dough and slice into cinnamon rolls.

Place them on the parchment paper on your baking tray and let them rise for a few minutes.

Bake 12-15 minutes at 425 degrees

Frost with a mixture of powdered sugar, 1 TBL real butter, 1 tsp vanilla, and water. Serve hot with MORE butter.

Next week- The Gluten Free, Dairy Free Cinnamon Bun recipe for me…sigh…

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

I was Never a Mormon

I was never a Mormon. Mormon was an ancient prophet in the Book of Mormon* who has been dead for many years. To top it off, someone once bought a handwritten manuscript of Mormon’s abridgment for 35 million dollars!** Trust me… I have not come close to making that kind of money as an author and no one wants to buy my messy original word doc for ten cents.

I have always been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Recently our Prophet announced we were no longer to be called or call ourselves, “Mormon,” or “LDS.” This was major news to the world. We were being “rebranded.”

This was not major news to members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I had been hearing this for years! Here is a little history behind the shortened or slang term or name, “Mormon.”

In the early history of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, according to Deseret News *** and everything I have been taught, “The church has had a complicated relationship with the term Mormon since its restoration in 1830. Church leaders long chafed at antagonists calling them Mormons and, early on, Mormonites, but in recent decades they have been more accepting of the nickname.”

Let me tell you what I think this means. In early history, there was an Extermination Order allowing people to legally kill “Mormons.” Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints were burned out of their homes, run out into the snow and driven across state lines, massacred, and generally misunderstood. “Mormon” was a slang term used in derision that we adopted ourselves and used.

However, I have speculated, as others have, that it created confusion around whether or not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints were Christians. We are.

Here are a few facts about me and some of my friends who are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. We are not perfect. We are human. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I go to church in an effort to become more Christlike and grow.  At church, I have been taught we can all return to live with our Heavenly Father, and I know from many church meetings, that we want everyone to be together as one big happy family again.  We are taught to love everyone, no exceptions, unconditionally. We only ask the same in return. Love us as we are and let us work towards the next life as we choose. If you have questions just ask, and I will find someone who knows more than I do to answer them.

I personally don’t need rebranding. I do need people to stop calling me “Mormon.” He is a dead but respected prophet. I also need people to ask me questions, instead of guessing what I believe or telling me what they think I believe.

In all honesty, not much has changed in history, except we have stepped into the light, stopped hiding, and want you to know we hold firm to our belief in the Savior. I want my friends, co-workers, and neighbors to know I was never a Mormon, but I was always a Christian and member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

*https://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/explanation?lang=eng

**https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/sep/26/book-of-mormon-sets-new-record-for-most-expensive-manuscript-ever-sold

*** https://www.deseretnews.com/article/900028401/the-church-of-jesus-christ-of-latter-day-saints-issues-new-name-guidelines-dropping-term-mormon-in-most-uses.html

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

Cedar Fort Author Appreciation Dinner

Do you ever wonder what happens behind the curtain? Are you ever curious about what it takes to publish mountains of quality family entertainment and education? I did, and so I flew to Utah for Cedar Fort’s Author Appreciation Dinner.

Not only did Cedar Fort feed us great food and entertain us with wonderful prizes, they gave us a peek behind the curtain and shared what goes on in the Cedar Fort house.

As an author who writes alone on the Oregon Coast, I had never been to the building or met the staff. It was great to see all the support we have.

I don’t know why, but whenever I called the office, I pictured a small office with books stacked in a closet. Boy, was I wrong! Cedar Fort is a talented team whose CEO, a second generation publisher,  is putting into place new and exciting ideas to support clean, quality entertainment.

My sister Sara came as my date for the night. We sat with Nikki Zacharias Trionfo, author of “Shatter,”  wonderful Cedar Fort family members and more. Table 8 rocked the house.

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

Safe House funds for Freedom

In honor of my favorite holiday, July 4th, and Safe House’s first birthday on July 11, I am donating 100% of my ebook profits to Operation Underground Railroad and reducing the cost of my ebook to $0.99 for the ENTIRE month of July.

Cedar Fort is supporting the cause and donating 1 signed copy of Safe House to Operation Underground Railroad for their aftercare programs, auctions, or to give away for every 50 ebooks sold during the month of July.

The Singing Librarian is helping by giving away a signed copy of Safe House and promoting the sale on her Christian & Clean Fiction Summer Reading Safari, as well as a ton of other giveaways and fun!

July 4th is my favorite holiday! Since 1921, our family has gathered on the Seaside, Oregon Beach and lit a massive bonfire, made s’mores, and celebrated Independence Day together. So, of course, I want the same for everyone in America, including victims of human trafficking!

Comment below or on my blog, FaceBook page, Instagram, or Twitter, with the word Freedom and I will enter you into a Facebook Live drawing from a jar! One of my beautiful family members will help me on the 4th of July.

Remember, the fight for freedom is far from over. Somewhere out there are children who need us to care. Learn more at OurRescue.org.

And watch for the first annual Seaside, Oregon family fun run on the historic prom on August 18th. I will be there and we will be running to raise funds for Operation Underground Railroad, as well as our local Seaside Sunset Empire Parks & Recreation- providing safe programs for kids!

Sponsored by: 

  • Sam’s Seaside Cafe
  • Providence Seaside Hospital
  • Clatsop Community Bank
  • The Human Bean

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

The End! My Two New Favorite Words & A Preview

It is 1 AM and I had to write and tell you, I just typed the last two words I plan to type on my next novel. The End. What lovely words they are! Not only is the story written, but it has been read and re-read.

This morning early, I finished reading my book out loud. I momentarily panicked when I realized several corrections hadn’t been saved, but then I decided it was an opportunity to do it all again, and better.

I could spend every second, or forever, fixing one more thing, trying one more time to make something, anything, just a little better. Perhaps, I will decide later,  I should have worked longer or smarter, but for now. Finished.

Because it is better to take the leap of faith than to never leap at all.

My wish? This story becomes another opportunity to serve and give to

Operation Underground Railroad. 

 

FINDING HOPE by Shannon Symonds

 Hope Experience Flanagan had to get out of the Rat’s trailer tonight. It made more sense to wait until her 18th birthday, or until the cold Oregon Coast weather warmed, but everything told her the Rat was dangerous and she was out of time.

“Come on Hope! I just want you to watch a movie with me.” the Rat begged from the other side of her locked bedroom door.

“I’m not coming out until Mom’s home!”

“See how nice I am! Your Mom hasn’t been home for weeks and I let you stay with me.”

“Just let me finish my homework,” she said nicely, trying to hide her frustration.

The flimsy bedroom door in the timeworn 1967 Rancho trailer shook angrily. Poised to move, Hope held her breath until it stopped. “You promise?” he yelled.

Finally,  she heard the Rat shuffle down the little hall. Five foot one Richard Culligan, ironically known as ‘Rich’ to his friends, and Rat to her, was her mother’s latest partner in a steady stream of companions. Hope hated them all.

The lacey ice on the windows of the Rat’s ancient trailer was as much on the inside in winter as on the outside. The trailer hadn’t moved for more years than Hope had been alive. It was parked in the Yeti Trailer Haven among other molding heaps of aluminum hidden by forest, vines, and foliage which obliterated their existence. Hope thought it was the best part of the coast. Magic green that erased every sign of man if you gave it long enough.

She sat on an old sleeping bag on a bare mattress, headphones in, music playing, when hailstones began pelting the aluminum walls. Gradually the torrent picked up. Larger and larger hailstones assaulted the windows so loudly it broke through her music and then it stopped.

Everything else she owned was packed in her old orange backpack including a Ziploc bag with a picture of her missing mother. Quietly, she pulled back the red rug, moved a loose floorboard, and dropped her pack into the black hole. Then, Hope slid down through the same hole and out from under Rich Culligan’s trailer forever.

***

Grace James had a smile painted on her face, but her nylons had gradually fallen until she was sure the crotch was at her bony knees and below the hem of her skirt. She had been wearing two hour high heels for four hours and her feet begged for mercy. She stood tall, at the end of her thirties with her long blond hair sprayed into submission on stage next to her boss in the old Victorian Church, now the Bay City Performing Arts Center.

Grace’s boss Eunice had the microphone. Her gray bob looked purple in the spotlight. She took off her bedazzled cat eye glasses, and said to the audience, “Next I want to introduce our senior advocate, Grace James.”

Hailstones started pelting the large stained glass windows in the ancient hall.

Every head turned to look at the row of 20-foot windows lining both sides of the room as a cascade threatened to break through the glass. The echo was deafening and then ended almost as quickly as it started.

 

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

Memorial Day- I never thought…..

While visiting my mother, I was given this old photo. My first thoughts when I looked at it was how little my children all were when we took this picture, and I wish Jamie was smiling. My second thought was I wish I had known then what I know now.

I didn’t know that in 6 short years one of my children would be flying off to Germany as a United State Army Air Traffic Controller during a war. I didn’t know she would be pregnant halfway around the world while her husband flew out for 5 months as a soldier set to enter combat.

I didn’t know that one more child would shortly find himself in harm’s way while serving in the United States Army and return home honorably as a disabled veteran. I didn’t know we would be going to war.

Would it have changed anything if I had known? Would I have spent more time teaching them how to survive, to be smarter, stronger? What would I have done to equip them for the mighty challenges they would face in a few short years?

It would have changed everything. I would have cared less about clean bedrooms and bedtimes. I would have cared less about grades and chores.

If I had known then, what I know now I would do everything differently. I would spend hours playing on the beach with them. I would have spent days doing nothing but snuggling, reading, and talking to them about the importance of home and family. I would have read them more scriptures, prayed more often, and made sure they knew God would always be by their side.

When my children entered the United States Army I saw them for the first time and I marveled at the people I had been raising. I saw my daughter, with pneumonia and infected tonsils rank 7th in a class of over 400 soldiers when she completed basic training. I saw my son’s heroic love of his fellow soldiers. I watched him become more of a natural leader, connected, caring, and courageous. He was happiest when helping others.

I learned the military is about more than guns and war. I learned the military is about courageous, connected children of other mothers sacrificing for a cause greater than themselves and joining a larger family.

My children came home, I am one of the lucky ones. My heart breaks for those who lost family. Everything was so simple on that summer day.

I can’t look at a marching army, a soldier’s face, even a soldier from across enemy lines without thinking, somewhere there is a family, friends, a mother missing you, loving you, and wishing they had one more day to play.

Thank you to all the men and women across all time who have served to protect our country and thank you to all the mothers, family, and friends who love them.

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

2018 Privacy Act? Seriously? I’m a Mother- I’ve got NO Privacy!

Just a few of my kids before they grew up and had kids. Grandchildren – Just Desserts. Sweet for me.

I am a mother. I gave up privacy long ago. You, however, have a lot of rights. So if you don’t want to receive email updates from me or my blog, just give me a call, or send me an email and I will unsubscribe you. My cell phone is all over the site and my email is symondsbythesea1215@gmail.com.

Seriously, anytime, day or night. But I am not bringing you a glass of water after 10 PM.

🙂 Shannon

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

Next Book Sneak Peek (Draft) & Safe House Book Blast & Giveaway!

Heidi Reads…
My Book a Day
Reading for the Stars and Moon
Reading, Writing & Stitch-Metic
Remembrancy
​Singing Librarian Books
Why Not? Because I Said So!

Enter to win a signed copy of Safe House and read an excerpt from my next book! Go back to Necanicum and spend time with Grace James, Joe Hart, and all your favorite characters.

“Grace James, Sexual Assault Advocate and single mother is seeing signs of sex trafficking in the small coastal town of Necanicum, but what she doesn’t see is a way to do her job and protect her own family while Morgan, her ex-husband is out of prison. Will she and officer Joe Hart be able to stop the spreading evil before Hope Experience Flanagan, a homeless 17-year-old disappears forever or will Morgan take Grace’s life at the same time as he and his partner Vlad plan to take Hope to sea forever.”

Go to my Facebook page for more! 

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email

Forward. I Choose Forward

 

Life is one continuous trust fall.
Laughing or crying,
Eyes closed falling back,
Or leaping in faith
Into the Savior’s waiting arms.

By Shannon Symonds, 4/2018

Share this:
Facebook Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Digg Delicious Reddit Stumbleupon Email