feeding my Husband

Long ago in the Land of PlayGroups, our friend Tami shared a simple thought. Why not ask our husbands what they want. Do they want dinner on the table when they arrive home? Do they always want the living room floor clean and tidy? Do they want the paper laid out? Do they prefer sex at night, middle of the night, morning, middle of the day? How novel to ask rather than assume.

And so I asked my Husband what did he want. His answer was as simple as my question – I want a peaceful home.

OK. I need detail and my Husband is not known for the play-by-play. So I asked specific questions and what I learned was surprising.

He did not want to eat as soon as he walked in.

He did not care if the house was “tidy.”

He did want the paper (and his magazines) easy to find.

And sex, well, that is ours to know.

Most importantly, I learned he wants some downtime when he gets home. Not to be swallowed with questions, requests, and my (or the children’s) play-by-plays. He wants to come in, say hello and share his love, and then retire for a few minutes to the yard, basement, bedroom alone with a drink and unwind. Or, as I like to imagine, take his SuperMan cape off and put his Mr. Rogers sweater and sneakers on. Just to relax.

And over time, I have asked these and many other questions again. Because we all change. What I can offer changes. What my Husband wants changes. If I don’t ask, how can I know? I don’t always ask as often as I should, though. But this post shared on facebook by Kristian reminds me, that Nature’s season has changed. It’s time for me to ask again.

Sunday is a day of rest

Sunday is a day of rest that does not often seem restful. We could truly do nothing but rest today, but we are keeping busy as we move back-and-forth from outdoors to use up the rest of the little snow we received and indoors to keep warm.

We started our day with a new pancake recipe as I am out of unbleached white flour (again, why does 25# go so fast!?!). We used this recipe with the exception of using whole milk. Of course. And there is just something extra-special about Lindley Mill’s organic whole wheat flour. It is so light…

Except my Husband did request a bacon and egg sandwich and so, of course, I joyfully made him one. I used yesterday’s loaf of 100 Days of Real Food recipe for the whole wheat bread machine loaf. (That sentence makes no sense and I am not going to make it make sense, hopefully you will figure it out.) This has become our go-to sandwich bread. I don’t know if it is the combination of the ingredients, or again, the Lindley Mill flours. I use 1/2 organic whole wheat and 1/2 organic Super Sprout (a sprouted grain flour) and it is SO very good. And in the bread machine, it has made for NO reason to buy manufactured store bread.

It is SO cold today that even with gloves, we come in with red hands that like warming under warm water…

We have made a special FC Bayern Munich star for our sweet grandparents that we’ll early in the week.

And I made lemon-scented dusting rags with this pin from Pinterest. I usually just spray my water/vinegar mix but this is certainly a quicker fix with little time investment… The cloths are the remains of a pair of flannel PJ pants made from a flat sheet and I used the lemon rinds leftover from making lacto-lemonade with the whey leftover from making yogurt in the crockpot.

And it’s just now 230p. I don’t know that much else will happen. But everyone is happy…

Sunday is a day of rest

Sunday is a day of rest that doesn’t often seem restful. After taking in the sights and sounds and smells of short order breakfasts on a lazy weekend morning, the dishes are washed and only the table needs tidying on the first part of this restful day. But instead for this moment of this day, I am going to begin fixing a big knitting mess. I’m relaxed and happy.

i found something i like about autumn

While browsing a recent set of Freshly Pressed on wordpress, I found something that made me almost want Autumn to arrive. Notice the italics? Almost.

Summer this year has been a lot more going than I ever anticipated. And I, thus far, have not made a single loaf of ANY kind of bread in months now. The shame! What kind of homeschooler am I that I am feeding my children manufactured bread. I know. I will hide my face in shame in the days following this post.

So here’s the something that made me want to get back in the groove of making our daily bread. And back to developing a good wild yeast sourdough recipe.

And that’s about it I am thinking I will like about Autumn. Bleck. Everything turns brown. It gets dark early. And it gets cold. Bleck.

No less, I am grateful. Yes. I am grateful.

producers

Producers create wealth. They share the wealth by employing those who help them produce. They share the wealth by employing those who help them enjoy their wealth. They are far from stingy or greedy or hateful.

With a population that is mostly in “service” work in government (including healthcare and education), hospitality, and retail, few citizens actually produce anything. Rather they simply feed lazy, instantly gratified consumerism.

You liberal nazi bastards. You’d rather hold a gun to my head and the heads of my Husband and children and force us to take care of you from cradle to grave rather than take care of yourself. You are the deficit. The financial, the moral, the ethical deficit.

You’re welcome.

Lenin loves the war on women!

Yes! He would, if he were here. Read what he thinks of the shame women bring their society when they “toil in the kitchen” as “household slaves.” A wee bit eye-opening to current events, eh?

 

No, I am not Canadian. The “eh” was for effect. And a speciall HELLO to my Canadian friends!

just updating my world

This is a wholly self-centered post. Of course all blogging is self-centered. But this one is especially so.

 

It is just after 9a and the kids are doing chores. We’re about to have a conversation about how to adjust our rhythm for the warmer months ahead so that we maintain a balance among our home, our activities, and our lessons. It’s an ever-changing thing and I think it’s time to address it again. The warm, long days in the sunshine result in bed around 930 and waking between 8-9. I think we may need a new commitment to quiet time and an earlier rising time.Yes, we have not used our alarms in many weeks.

 

I have had a need to be mostly quiet since the holy days last week. I cannot explain why. Maybe because of an event with the oldest where we had to accept and move forward. Maybe because of a decision our family has made.  Maybe because of a distance with my sister. Maybe because it was our first Easter without Mam-Maw. Maybe because my heart knew that those greatest of days needed more quiet. I just knew. And so, I’ve had lots to share, but very little desire to share it.

 

Also in the transition world is my own homemaking rhythm. Unlike the children, I don’t sleep until 8 or 9. I wake between 530 and 6 most mornings, just in time to make breakfast for us. I really treasure this time. I don’t always want to get out of bed. I do always want this time with him.

 

With the children sleeping so late, I just keep working  once he leaves. Generally I am moving laundry, baking, making breakfast. Quiet stuff. Today, laundry for the week is done, so I made some bread, started a sourdough sponge, browned some steak and roasted some vegetables for soup. That’s gonna be a good and wise soup. It’s a steak I bought on bent meat with leftover roasted potatoes from Tuesday’s dinner, and a random mix of the vegetable in the bin – spaghetti squash, green peppers, carrots, celery, onion, and for good measure, I topped a garlic bulb and roasted it in the center and then squeezed it into the vegetable broth when I put the veggies in the crockpot. I’ll add the meat and potatoes this afternoon.

 

So, my world is pretty quiet. It is strange. I like quiet. I miss my sister. C’est la vie.

what is the purpose?

“What is the purpose of your blog?” I was recently asked.

“To empty my head,” I replied.

“Why do think anyone cares what you think?”

“I don’t care if anyone cares what I think. I’m emptying my head. If someone chooses to read what I’ve written and if someone chooses to learn, grow, use from what I’ve written, well, that’s their choice.”

But I wasn’t completely honest. I didn’t know it at that moment, but as my head filled with self-reflection and my heart ached during the analysis, I knew there was something more. There are at least three things more.

1- Marriage is fantastic. Spiritual Marriage is fantastic. If I choose for it to be fantastic. I want to share that. I believe it. Firmly. There is nothing pro-spiritual marriage in my culture. Nothing to encourage spiritual couples to remain couples. It’s less economical to be (governmentally and spiritually) married. There is more support in churches for governmentally and spiritually divorced couples. Children from broken homes receive priority in camps, programs, and more tolerance at school.

I want to share that I love being loved. That sex between committed people is nothing of which to be bashful. I want to clearly express a love, respect, and appreciation for my Husband. And I hope to show that someone might choose to love and nurture their spouse, too.

2 – That parenting “average” kids is exceptional. So much focus is on the “exceptional” (exceptionally advanced and/or delayed) kids that average Joes and Janes like we have are considered freaks. Really? Because I won’t smack some entitlement program label on my kids means they’re freaks? Hmmmm. So, I don’t intend to ever promote my kids’ as greater than another. They just are. And I wish more kids were just allowed to be, too. And I hope to show that and maybe others might be able to find greater appreciation for their average kids.

3 – Freedom is fleeting. With every grin and giggle labeled as a “right” the managing regulation of all those grins and giggles grows stripping us all of responsibility, accountability, and actual rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

If I can choose it and then buy it, it is not a right. It is a commodity. If I can express this enough on my blog, then maybe just one more person’s eyes will be widened or even opened and that person will also express discontent with our dictatorial government and we can revolt to a minimalist state again. That will mean we will have to work harder. But the world will truly be our oyster again.

So, among emptying my head, I also profess the love and respect for my Husband, appreciation and gratitude for my average kids, and my desire to feel freedom. Those are definitely purposes of this blog.

Conscience, I say, not your own, but that of the other. For why is my liberty judged by another mans conscience? But if I partake with thanks, why am I evil spoken of for the food over which I give thanks? Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. Give no offense, either to the Jews or to the Greeks or to the church of God, just as I also please all men in all things, not seeking my own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved.
1 Corinthians 10:29-33
NKJV

life is a day full of kisses

It’s fun to look back in my camera roll thingie on this phone.

It’s also fun to just grab a child and squeeze him to pieces and kiss him all over. Or to be randomly kissed square on the lips just because I am mommy.

 

“…it’s my favorite sound in the morning.”

Most mornings during the week, I wake soon after my Husband and make us breakfast. It’s a simple meal. Usually toast, fried eggs, and homemade yogurt with honey. He is usually out of the shower as I am setting the food on the table and he makes our coffees. We each quietly have a moment while holding hands and then while we eat we talk, brief one another on our days, and sometimes look through the Times Snooze newspaper.

 

Sometimes there are children asleep on sofas. Only the oldest regularly sleeps in a bed alone. He’s as tall as I am, so that’s a good thing. But most of the time the children fall asleep where we are. And often times that is on a sofa.

 

Last week when my Husband had long left for work and the red head popped into the kitchen with her bright eyes and snuggled in a too-small and now ragged favorite robe, she immediately asked, “What did you make for Daddy’s breakfast.” I replied with grits, eggs, sausage, and yogurt. Without missing a beat Rebekah Anne says, “I like falling asleep on the sofa because I get to hear breakfast and it’s my favorite sound in the morning.”