Archives for category: Feeding My Husband

Beaufort and flying never get old.

Six Word Saturday

Truth is I suck at food blogging yet I am an excellent cook. I promise. Ask my Husband and kids. I suck at taking pictures but I can cook all day for them with great success.

No less, I tried something new.

When my Husband is out of town, I loosen the nutrition belt and this week that meant a "5 ingredient Enchilada" for the kids.

It was a HUGE success. Such an anticipated success that I took this photo thinking "I'll blog these and the final product if they like them."


They liked them but apparently I am a quitter.

So here's the recipe via my Pinterest board "Non-FMD Dinners." But I could not stop. I had uncooked ground turkey leftover so I used about a pound of that. I had a pound of ground Neese's (that's pork sausage for those not in the South) and I used about a half of that. No beef at all in these 5 ingredient enchiladas.

The non-beef turkey and pork mix looked sad as it browned in the skillet, so I added about a half palm full of Frontier's organic Taco seasoning to it. I did that knowing I was adding the rest of a jar of Green Mountain Gringo Mild Salsa which is amply tasteful but that turkey and pork just looked so sad.

(NOTE: As I blog this from my phone because I am too tired from sitting at my desktop [see last paragraph] the previous paragraph appears in a gargantuan font. I do not know why. I suck at blogging in general. Not just food blogging.)

Now here is what is ridonkulous. I made enchilada sauce from scratch. These were 5-ingredient enchiladas, remember? I've made this sauce before. But this time I actually tried NOT to make it. I tried Aldi. No red enchilada sauce. I tried Harris Teeter. No red enchilada sauce. And then I was a total quitter. It was easier to make the enchilada sauce from scratch from ingredients I keep at home than to go into the other two groceries I would pass on my way home. Therefor me this the lone photo I have...

The final result? Gone. No photo. Kids ate it. They ate it all. ALL. Maybe it had something to do with my effort to use what we had so that meant only 7 flour tortillas and only 4 of the 5 kids at home and no adults eating, but still. I have no finished product photo.

So there. I suck as a food blogger but am a decent cook.

You know what I did do, though? Something TOTALLY out of my comfort zone. I finally, after 2-1/2 years knocked out a website. It's not perfect, but it is done. And I am proud even if it is from a template. God bless the the template makers. I mean that. You are valued and appreciated.

I did cry while I worked on this. They were not tears of joy. They were tears of frustration, anger, resentment. But I pushed through. This is not a natural skill for all. I am much more comfortable birthing at home or discussing natural law with teens or scooping horse stalls or soaking chicken behinds or even turning 5 ingredient enchiladas into 20-something ingredient enchiladas.

(Note: The preceding is in some odd font with no explanation as to why. I suck at blogging. Is what it is.)

Planning is a forte of mine. I am naturally good at planning. Johnson O’Connor Institute calls this aptitude “foresight.” Well, I’ve got a lot of it.

Some folks think this means I cannot go with the flow. And it’s a little true – I cannot easily just let life roll. Unless I have a plan.


I meal plan. This week had a Taco Tuesday. While at a swim meet with a child, my Husband and other children ate out instead of the beautifully planned, prepped, and presented Taco Tuesday. That’s OK! Guess what Wednesday’s dinner was? Taco Wednesday. And even better, that was one less meal to prepare on hump day.


The kids’ lessons are planned. And trips out to enjoy lessons are planned. What happens when the 14yo doodles and listens to music for two hours at the super awesome Salvation Coffee rather than work on lessons? He does them later. And that’s a day’s less work for me look over.


I plan my downtime – yoga, knitting, reading, etc. So I didn’t get to yoga after I cleaned up breakfast as planned because the 12yo wanted to talk. T(w)eens talk a lot. So I listened. And she talked some more. And before I knew it was time to skrt skrt out the door. OK. So when we made it back home, I hit the mat before leaving for the swim meet.

If I have a plan, I can alter the plan. If I don’t have a plan, I plan to panic. Why? Because there’s no map, no waze, not even google maps to help find alternate paths.

Best part of planning is that I often can knock out the expected so when the unexpected chain mail coif request for the airsoft battle less than 12 hours away comes across the wire, I can stop and make a kid happy.


Our Christmas seasons can be fraught with gift needs and wants, places to be, people to see. There are gifts wants and needs and people we would like to see, but no fraught (fret?). Not this year.


I grew up in a family with faults far too numerous to count and far too in the past now to dredge. But there were some really cool things, too, that I have chosen to carry into this moment in my life. Like the sincere appreciation for homemade gifts. So, many years I make some if not all of the gifts even when I know they are not appreciated. I had the recipient in mind through the process and so the gift is a piece of me on behalf of my family.



This year there are not so many homemade things. I don’t know why. There just isn’t. And it’s OK. I’m not in the least bothered by it as I would have been in the past. I don’t know why. I’m OK with not knowing why.


My Husband comes about the holidays in a different way than I do. He likes to go and look a half dozen times and then pick up a few things here and there. Stealing a piece of a text with my Sister …

That’s a big part of what gets his mind in the right place for the holidays. Funny how I just want to be home and bake and make while he wants to be out and about. This year, for the first year, I am perfectly OK with whatever. I have no stress. So odd and awesome at the same time.

And I am OK with that. This year. Typically I get my granny panties all wadded up over it. Not this year. I don’t know why not this year, but not this year.


As I type this I am just laughing at myself. There is a brief squabble over what color the next loom band ornament should be. There is a science experiment debate over proper microscope management and there is a miniature schnauzer in desperate need of a good grooming on my lap. It’s comical. And I’m all good with that.


I am grateful for the odd and awesome.



So the thing about new ferments/cultures is this … most of the time they are awesome but sometimes they suck.


Villi yogurt – awesome. Easy. Requires little thought. Tangy. Perfect. When it’s cold.

Milk Kefir – whoa. Not sure how to strain those grains yet, but the stuff is good. Feel free to tell me how to strain the grains without having my hands all in it. Delicious when cold. Excellent quickie smoothies. Cold.

Fermented Cranberry Sauce –  A hit on the extended family Thanksgiving table. My pickier-than-usual-adult Father-In-Law liked it. Seemingly a lot. I’d say it passed. Best room temperature.

Desem Sourdough Starter – just getting going, may be able to make bread by the end of the week. It prefers to sit on the mantle, nice and cozy.

True Pickled Eggs – SUCK. Now, in all fairness, I followed the video example of how to boil eggs in the link and I think this was the issue. I should have boiled them as I always do – one minute hard boiled, cut heat, cover pan, let sit for 15 minutes. Because these eggs SUCKED. I vomited after eating them. The yolks were barely set and saturated with salt. Nasty. So I take full responsibility for the fail. My first ferment fail. It happens to everyone. Right?


(Please do not forget to tell me how to separate the grains from the milk kefir without digging with my fingers.)

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 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 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.


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 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.