Lillian Jeannette (Eliason, Creuzer) Christensen, gardener extraordinaire, consummate seamstress, and avid recipe collector, died on Saturday, July 6, 2013.
Lillian loved to garden; she was happiest when there was dirt under her fingernails (which she typically and ineffectively attempted to cover with bright red polish). She spent every hour she could in her gardens tending to dozens of flower beds (her begonias, peonies, lilacs, and roses were glorious annual explosions of color); she harvested rows and rows of vegetables and picked countless ice cream buckets of berries and grapes on the family farm west of Luck. A lot of what she grew she gave away to family and friends, but she also canned hundreds of jars each year and filled two large chest freezers with meticulously labeled and dated boxes of corn, rhubarb, beans and various tomato sauces. When the outdoor plants were retired in the fall, Lillian moved her gardening skills indoors. The old farmhouse eventually had a sun-filled room created for her beloved plants. Her prolific and enormous Christmas cacti stole the show from the African violets and various vines. An additional room was created off the basement to serve as a root cellar where crates of bulbs spent the winter waiting for Lillian to lovingly restore them to the earth each spring.
When not gardening, Lillian could be found at the sewing machine. For most of her adult life she was a dressmaker; she did alterations, created hundreds of quilt tops for world missions, taught sewing to family and 4-Hers, and created colorful designer clothing for herself. Her penchant for bright jackets was her trademark look; her closet boasted brilliant purples and reds, and bold animal and floral prints.
Lillian also loved experimenting in the kitchen; she owned nearly every kitchen gadget sold and had a collection of more than 300 cookbooks and index boxes (too numerous to count) filled with recipes. The inside of her kitchen cabinets were covered with favorite recipes taped up for quick access. Most of her recipes had substitutions etched into the margins—Lillian had her views on what was healthy and what was unnecessary in one’s diet (“no one NEEDS gravy,” “you can slip wheat germ into anything and everything and nobody will know”). Most of what she created in the kitchen was far removed from the original recipe. We all knew this, expected this, and accepted this. Because of her practice of “creative substitutions,” her recipes were not often requested. One, however, was a big hit with all; Lillian made the best 7-day sweet pickles! The amount of sugar, time, and daily ant removal needed to produce those pickles will probably never be recreated now that’s she’s gone. We will miss those pickles!
Lillian loved to entertain outdoors. When the weather permitted, the deck table was spread with a home sewn tablecloth and heavy laden with crystal relish dishes and a choice of her many “company” place settings. All meals were formal. There was always an inordinate amount of silverware, condiments (each lovingly served in special little dishes) and dessert (homemade ice cream being the one hoped for by most). Picnics at a park were also on the grand scale; there was always a full spread of home cooked food on a homemade tablecloth, real dishes, and dessert. Dining was always an event.
Lillian loved word games (Scrabble and crossword puzzles), making lists, and volunteering. She was “green” before it was PC; there was always a compost pile and nothing was thrown out that may have a use or purpose in the future (the farmhouse had an extensive collection of twist ties and milk bottle caps, salvaged zippers and buttons). She despised televisions, microwaves (her second husband’s was only allowed as far as the entryway), and all forms of advertisements which she considered insults to one’s intelligence. She was a life-long teacher; she taught in several one- and two-room local school houses in the late 40s, she taught Sunday school at Luck Lutheran for 50 years, and she taught sewing for the Little Butternut 4-H Club for 40 years. As a parent of a child with special needs, she spent endless hours working one-on-one to teach Therese to read and write. She was not one to complain or criticize; she was an encourager and a giver.
Lillian always wanted a red sports car but eventually settled for a picture of herself taken in front of one parked in a church parking lot!
Lillian is preceded in death by her parents, Olaf and Annie (Schlemmer) Eliason, her first husband (and childhood heartthrob) Walter James Creuzer, and her sister, Julie Olesen. Left to cherish her memory is her husband Clyde Christensen, son Jeff (Darlene) Creuzer, and daughters Therese Creuzer and Laurelei Creuzer. Six grandchildren; Andrea (Ryan) Lein, Robb (Ali) Esperat, Mike (Katie) Creuzer, Jennifer (Andy) Paulus, Walter Esperat, and Krista (Kevin) Jones and nine (soon-to-be ten) great grandchildren will miss their grandmother and her highly anticipated and phenomenally unique annual box of Christmas gifts. As the eldest of eight, Lilllian leaves siblings Elmer (Susan) Eliason, Paul Eliason, Leola (Jerry Kashmark) Backstrom, Beverly Sederlund, Phyllis Ratzlaff, and Annette Nash to share stories with the next generation of growing up on the farm.
A “Celebration of Life” will be held for Lillian at Luck Lutheran Church at 11:00 A.M. on Saturday, August 10, 2013. Lillian’s family will be greeting guests at the church for one hour prior to the service.
The Kolstad Family Funeral Home of Centuria has been entrusted with arrangements.
Visits: 0
This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the
Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.
Service map data © OpenStreetMap contributors