fermented-ly yours

I really like kombucha. Really like it. So does my Husband. So do most of the children. As I become braver in experimenting with teas and second fermentation flavors, I am finding more fans.

The four gallons I harvested today were all made with English breakfast tea and green tea. Plain and room temperature, the flavor is softer than with the Lipton tea with which I began.

I am out of ginger (the horror!) and so I made only straight berry flavors – raspberry, blackberry, blueberry and combinations of each. The new flavor I set to second ferment is Strawberry-Lemon. MMMMmmmm.

Fermented-ly Yours,
Patty

‘nough said

I am still in my apron. Loaves of fresh bread, kombucha shared, visits with friends as Frontier is picked up, seventy degrees. Enough said.

if I must

And I must.

My heart is tugging on me to blog but I can’t keep my thoughts in one direction enough to know what I really want to blog. So I’ll just lay down what is on my mind at this moment.

I just processed the meat from the buck Reade took. I am grateful I know how to do that and have the experience from last year with my Husband to know what to do by myself this year. I should have involved Reade, but really this was just one of those things that I had been putting off and today seemed like a good day to do it, so why bother with extra hands? I know I shortchanged him.

While cleaning up the blood on the grinder, counter, and sink, I was reminded of Walt’s leg wound and how no doctor ever said anything about it in the show. You see, I am not much of a TV person and would truly be fine if the TV disappeared before the end of this post. Yet there is this show my Husband and I have recently started watching. He was up early over the weekend and flipping through the Apple TV and decided to watch the Breaking Bad pilot. I watched the next episode the next morning with him before the kids woke. And, well, a few very early mornings with coffee, together we have watched almost all of Season 1. I will not say I “love” it as I do not love any television. However, it is very engaging. Only because the characters could possibly real people.

And that thought of the horrors, very real ones in their own way, of that show lead me to think of my recent reading of The Hunger Games. I didn’t think I’d ever read it much less want the kids to read it. But the oldest received a Nook for Christmas and the only thing he wanted to read on it was that damn book. After a few weeks, I caved. And read it very quickly. As did I. And we were able to discuss it along the way and even now as he is into the next book. I still think it is a WRETCHED story and in my opinion its only redeeming value is its anti-government themes. I can even relate the fictional stories as real-right-now-happening-to-us moments regarding the Capitol and the Gamemakers. But those are children. It is the most distasteful thing I have ever read. I cannot get over the fact that it has won so many children’s book awards. That honestly disgusts me. And it disgusts me that my two oldest have read it. Honestly, I have shame.

And if it were possible to have covered my eyes and ears through much of the book, I would have. Just like I do in many parts of Breaking Bad.

See, I am not a violent person as the government tried to convince the public that anarchists are. I can’t watch movies like Fight Club, Nightmare on Elm Street, or even Apocalypse Now. Not that only violent people like to watch those things. I just don’t. I don’t like to read or see fictional things when people are struggling with physical or moral challenges. I won’t even read the book where the man interviews a dying man. I won’t do it. There are plenty of real life, everyday moments where suffering must be endured… knowing a precious friend suffered a tremendous loss in death. knowing I couldn’t keep a loved one from suffering in death longer than she wanted. knowing that people cannot be mended. knowing that the end of today will bring one less day with my family. knowing that my government wants to enslave me in a tighter cell than I am already in. knowing that my President and much of the elected class despises me and everything that I believe to the depth of my soul.

Why would I seek more pain? Why would I intentionally subject myself to such horror?

And now, after all those words…as I see the sky darkening and outdoor chores left to be done…my words are gone. All I can think of at this moment is this song…

There is Victory in Jesus

the morning is nearly gone

The morning is nearly gone. It began with my Husband and our humorous reflection of punk business people thinking they’d pulled a fast one. Then frustrated reflection about other business people who are bulldogging a situation. Y’know … that all is what it is. And we can only control our circumstances. And, if the Mayans are correct (even though they missed their whole Spanish demise) then does it really matter?

But my Husband left to earn our keep and the day progressed. We’ve made a fresh carpet for the playhouse.

We’ve baked a gingerbread house sans buttered molds…

(perfect for morning snacking)

And a house with buttered molds…

And another in the oven now.

We’ve set the sprouts out to dry and green. Kelly Mae found just the right spot for good light.

Rebekah Anne has helped me work the yogurt

and she has helped me feed the sourdough starter and make the dough for its first 24 hour rise.

Kelly Mae taught Sawyer to latch hook while Rebekah Anne and I worked in the kitchen.

Reade was at the table doing a Physical Science experiement.

And when Laura Lea finally woke at 1038a, she ate some crumbled gingerbread and Sawyer taught her to latch hook and she’s been busy since.

I suppose now we’ll begin to pick up the house and then have a yummy lunch.

Not sure what our afternoon will bring… Does it matter? No. Life is good. Even if it’s about to end Mayan-style.

simply grateful

Today is Thanksgiving. I am simply grateful. Our sweet family is here together relaxing and enjoying what has been gifted us by our Creator.

The food is ready for its final cooking/baking.

Beef Rib Roast
Smoked Ham
BBQ Green Beans
Mam-Maw Squash Casserole
Sweet Potato Cassserole
Corn Pudding
Sausage Dressing
Mam-Maw Biscuits

I am on the deck sitting in the sun knitting.

Sawyer is beside me doodling in his new doodle book gifted him by Xan.

Rebekah Anne is sitting with me also, working on her first complete cross-stitch project.

Kelly Mae was sitting with me and quizzing me (translate “ribbing me”) about my inability to Black Friday shop. But she has moved onto the barn with the others.

The others are at the barn with my Husband helping Reade set up to flesh the deer hide from his hunt this morning.

It is quiet. Simply quiet. I am simply grateful.

Sunday is a day of rest

Sunday is a day of rest that doesn’t often seem restful. Today it starts with pancakes and will end with jerked chicken. Mmm…

random Saturday thoughts

Last night my Husband and I went to an evening with my high school classmates. The NCSSM class of 1992 is celebrating our 20th reunion this weekend. I wasn’t going to go because some of my people, including my Husband, were going to be gone and well, they’re so much of me it just wouldn’t be right. To me. Part of those plans changed and we went. And I learned two of my classmates live about 10-15 minutes from us. And have! For a long time. Wow.

“Can you believe it’s been twenty years?” Yes. And praise God from whom all blessings flow that it has been twenty years. And I mean it. It doesn’t feel like it was just yesterday. It feels like Science and Math was EONS ago. And it has been. Again, praise God from whom all blessings flow!

It was a real treat to see these friends. I hope to see and learn more about them in the time to come ahead.

Next random thought.

The public schools really are screwing kids up. And I am certain that private schools and home schools do their share, too. It’s just that with 88% of the school-age population enrolled in public hand-outs, er, education, the public schools get the biggest part of the blame. How do I know the schools are screwing kids up? Well, just google that yourself. But in addition to the search results, I see it. These last many weeks I have been joyfully engaged in helping many students prepare for the SAT I. Many, not all, of these kids are struggling emotionally. They feel like they have no idea what they’re doing with lessons, much less the SAT. Fortunately, I can give them a plan and strategies. But that only helps with the SAT I. What about their lesson work? I can comfort them that this too shall pass. And that is it. With my few study-coaching kids, I can share more. But mostly I cannot. These kids are overworked with petty information. These kids are overworked with competing teachers. These kids are overwrought with anxiety about their place within their graduating class. Who cares? Not me. Not the world. I hate this part of education. It is why I don’t give a flip about posting our 13 years old’s writing on this blog. He is his own person and he will make a difference when he recognizes the significance of the difference. You cannot teach a person something he wishes not to know.

Another random thought.

I really, really, really, like that we live outside a city limit. It means we can have a fire pile of tree tops and stumps burn for a week and no one can do anything about it.

And the last random thought.

I was asked by my most precious friend Elizabeth for a vitamin recommendation for one of her children. But I forgot. Then I remembered just before I wrote this that I needed to write her. And that reminded me to take my vitamins, which I had forgotten this morning. And so I took them. They are really good vitamins that I am fortunate to purchase wholesale. And I swallowed them with sweet tea vodka and cranberry. I think that may have undone the “really good” part of the vitamins. I am OK with that.

I should write Elizabeth now.

really better than ice cream

Well, now, it’s been quite the full – yet chill – Monday. Science in the Summer and tennis lesson and golf and swimming. I know. Sounds like a privileged brat whining about luxuries. I get it. #1 – I am not a brat whining. I am proud of the opportunities my Husband provides and #2 – I am privileged because I have a Husband who wants for us to have and enjoy these experiences. And you know what? I am gonna keep it up!

So… I have to do my part, right? And that means nourishment. I tossed a round roast in the crockpot with worcestshire (and I am confident this is incorrectly spelled, but I am too lazy to get up and walk to the pantry to check), water, onion, and the most fantastic Organic Onion Soup and Dip Mix EVER. Which, of course I buy in bulk for a fraction of the price that link shows. And I served the beef with a pasta salad with green peppers and tomatoes from our garden made for a family reunion this weekend, and cukes and tomatoes from our garden and others’ of course with vinegar and oil and herbs.

But I am not even writing about dinner. I am writing about this. And it is better than ice cream.

No. I have not made this with greek yogurt. We’ve had this with our yogurt. Our yogurt is made in the crockpot and strained to the consistency of greek yogurt. That may even be what makes greek yogurt. I do not know. I don’t care. It’s so freaking good. Here’s the recipe and you will thank me for it!

And… I can start making it again. Because our refrigerator is finally fixed. It took my getting on the phone and calling Kitchenaid and traveling the country for 38 minutes in transfers to locate the “possibly unattainable part.” I did what the appliance repair company could not do after 5 weeks of trying. Because that’s how I do my part for our family.

beanie weenies

On the very day in which I delivered 6 pints of Elderberry Syrup made with organic berries and herbs and local honey and on the same day I divided and distributed 47 of 50 pounds of all organic Super Sprout Flour, I served beanie weenies for dinner. I kid you not.

I wrote to my sister, “I feel like a failure. Even if the recipe is from allrecipes+PRO.” We both laughed.

But no less, I did. We had a party for Reade’s 13th birthday and fed Nathan’s to the youthful masses. And I over-estimated how much kids will eat when in a co-ed setting so we have some leftovers. My Husband suggested I find the “Ultimate Beanie Weenie recipe.” Well, I don’t know that it’s the ultimate, but from the ingredients list, it looked the yummiest. But it had no reviews that I could find on the app and I was too lazy to look on the browser. I was lost. And took the chance anyway. And you know what? It is actually good. And more importantly, the kids ate it and asked for more. I obliged.

So there. I served beanie weenies for the first time in my life. At least that I can recall.

Victory Gardening

There’s NO dout that Victory Gardens were the result of some serious statist propaganda. But they worked. Which is where it seems odd, because they STILL work. So let’s give them another name…uh…how about “family garden” or “home garden” or dare I suggest “garden”?

 

This blog post has a neat collection of the when, what, how, and why. And it’s not too late to start your “garden.” I haven’t started mine…

 

Victory Gardening.