Ear Full of Pumpkin

Seriously: Pumpkin Yogurt

2012-01-31T19:30:00.000-06:00

For reals. I made yogurt. In my crockpot. Like the pilgrims did.

It's sort of ridiculous... but I blame it on my Mother. Like any good, grown woman, I still like to blame her for a number of things...

But Christmas shopping for my Mother, is like going to the dentist... the only way to get to the dentist though, is to trek barefoot through the Everglades, sidestepping alligators and predatory birds, and subsisting on nothing more than swamp water and mud. And then once you finally make it to the dentist... despite all the anticipation and anxiety and remorse you feel for not flossing regularly... your dentist tells you that he was kidding and doesn't really have time for the procedure he scheduled you for......

Which is to say... it's tough. In fact, I'm still sort-a recovering from it, even one month later.

Thing is... she is not a woman of many wants... but she is a woman, who makes her own yogurt.

So THIS Christmas...well, let's just say, I thought I'd struck gold. I was going to buy her an Automatic Yogurt Maker from Williams Sonoma. I'll give you a moment to ooohhh and ahhhhh. (Photo credited to Williams Sonoma.)

I read every review, searched every crevice of the Internet, checked out the Consumer Reports, talked it over with my husband... and at the end of the day, decided that this yogurt maker would make a VERY nice gift.

For me.

Because let's face it... any appliance that has only one, single use... is not for my Mother. She got rid of her couch several years ago, and replaced it with a treadmill, 'cause the couch was "just sitting there."

So... it sort of got me thinking about making my own yogurt. I won't get into the specifics, but I've been quite ill, off and on, since before Thanksgiving, and for a bit, I was subsisting on Greek Yogurt and blueberries... and figured it can't be THAT hard to make, right? Right!

What you'll need (for the yogurt portion of the recipe):

8 Cups milk (I used skim!, organic)
1/2 Cup yogurt (From the store... apparently, you only have to do this once, and from here on out, you can use your own "starter." I used Organic Yogurt, but you don't have to copy me for evvvverything. Go ahead. Be you're own person. Use Yoplait, you crazy cat!)

Um. Yeah, that's it. Put the milk in the crockpot and heat it on low for 2 1/2 hours. Unplug the crockpot but leave the cover on, and let it sit for 3 hours. When 3 hours have passed, scoop out 2 cups of the warmish milk and put it in a bowl. Whisk in 1/2 cup of store-bought live/active culture yogurt. Then dump it all back into the crockpot. Stir to combine.

Put the lid back on your crockpot. Keep it unplugged and wrap a heavy bath or beach towel all the way around the crockpot for insulation. Go to bed or let it sit for 8 hours.

This is my crockpot, ready for a day at the beach:

(Silly crockpot. Doesn't know it's January.)

The next day, you can let it rest in a coffee filter to thicken up a bit (I didn't do this, as I seriously lack patience when it comes to food)... but that's it.

So.... I took it up a notch and as the purveyor of things pumpkin and decided to make pumpkin yogurt.

What you'll need (to make it pumpkin-y):

1/2 Cup pumpkin puree
1 Teaspoon sugar or maple syrup (optional...the maple granola makes up for the sugar need)
1 Teaspoon cinnamon
Dash of nutmeg and allspice
1/4 Cup granola
1 Cup homemade yogurt (like the pilgrims did)

Mix it all together...

So, that settles it. Mom is getting pumpkin yogurt every Christmas, from here on out.

Always good to plan ahead.

If Only It Had Been a Pumpkin

2011-12-19T08:33:00.002-06:00

If only it had been a pumpkin that Frosty was picking....

Blessings to you all, during this final week of Advent! May you know much grace and peace... and if you gotta pick your nose, pick a pumpkin!

To Rue: Amish Friendship Bread

2011-11-28T19:34:00.001-06:00

Ahhhhhh... Amish Friendship Bread. The edible chain letter.

A few weeks ago, I thought, "Oh... you know what I haven't had in a while... like since 1997, kind-a while? Friendship bread!" And because I had that thought in my head, I was somehow obligated to share that ever-so-witty-and-thoughtful thought, on Facebook.

Then out of no where, up pops a friend who offers a starter. Stupid Facebook. I rue you. RUE!!

*I should note... I rue my thought and I really rue Facebook... not said friend, who nicely offered a starter and even did the "mushing" while I was out of town. Just in case she reads this blog...

Now I have three fermenting starters sitting on my counter and one in the fridge.... the one in the fridge isn't so bad... I open the fridge a dozen times a day, and each time, I hear a flat, lifeless, "Whad'up."

Ohhhh... but the bags on the counter... (eyeroll). They jabber non-stop:

"I feel bloated."

"I have a sour taste in my mouth."

"I could use some sugar."

"It's cold in here."
"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we..."
"Do I look fat in this baggie?"
"I doughn't get it... could you at yeast explain it to me?"
"Mush it. Mush it reeeeal good."

Yeah. That last one has some serious issues.

So. If you'd like an Amish Friendship Bread starter and you live... I don't know... within a three hundred mile radius of the KC metro area... they're yours!

And then you can make Pumpkin Amish Friendship Bread. Or would it be Amish Pumpkin Friendship Bread? Or Amish Friendship Pumpkin Bread? Anyway...

What you'll need:

1 Cup starter
3 Eggs
2/3 Cup vegetable oil
1/2 Cup milk
1 Teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 Cups pumpkin puree

Pre-heat your oven to 325*. Mix together the wet ingredients. If only to make the yammering stop. And just trust me on this one... that vegetable oil... that entire 2/3 of a cup... is about 1/2 cup LESS than what you'd normally be putting in, if you eliminated the pumpkin. So thank your lucky stars and move on.

Then you'll need:

2 Cups flour
1 Cup sugar
1 1/2 Teaspoon baking powder
1/2 Teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2-2 Teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 Teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 Teaspoon allspice
1 Cup chopped pecans (though you could certainly add cranberries, dates, etc. as well)

Add dry ingredients; just go ahead and pile them all in there, then stir. Pour into two well greased and sugared bread pans or six mini loaf pans. Bake for about a 1 hour and 15 minutes. A toothpick should come out clean.

It's yummy! And just like the olden days...

And then start the whole dang process over again in 9-10 days.

Rue, I tell ya...

A New Rhythm: Gooey Pumpkin Bars

2011-11-23T09:47:00.001-06:00

Everything is happening a little too fast around here... I started listening to Christmas music a full two weeks prior to my self-imposed "start date," which has been a fast and furious rule around here, for as long as we've been married. Thanksgiving came out of no-where. Boxes of Christmas decorations have been pulled out of storage since last Thursday. The tree... up since last Saturday. I have a wreath hanging on my door. A WREATH... before Thanksgiving day. This is not cool.

But it's a necessity this year.

It's probably not a surprise, but the Christian calendar provides a lot of stability in my life. That long season of Pentecost... which always seems disproportionate with the actual length of the life of Jesus, comes to an an abrupt halt. And we leap into Advent... breathing in the breadth of possibility and hope and new life in the midst of gray skies and dry, crunchy leaves. I spend all year, longing for Advent... for the rhythm of waiting and sitting and anticipating and hoping for things not necessarily hoped for throughout the rest of the year. I wait for the nesting and the baking and the smells of warmth and the glimpses of peace, in the midst of chaos. Christmas lights make me weep and snow blanketing the ground, fills my spirit with much needed renewal. I find warmth in the chill and comfort in the bustle.

But this year, it's all different. We'll be gone for week two and three, of Advent... and I've lost my orientation, my rhythm. I don't know how to "do" Advent and Christmas, without the week to week progression, the hearing of our biblical story, and the steady climb that we make, as church, to the birth of a newborn baby... the birth of hope.

So I'm satiating, with disproportionate amounts of butter and sugar. And I made Paula Deen's Ooey-Gooey Pumpkin Bars. Though they won't do a lot for renewing the spirit, they're quick and easy and they get the job done. And I guess sometimes, that's all you can do.

What you'll need for the cake:

1 Yellow cake mix
1 Egg
8 Tablespoons butter, melted

What you'll need for the filling:

2 Cup pumpkin puree
1 8-Ounce package cream cheese, softened
3 Eggs
1 Teaspoon vanilla
8 Tablespoons butter, melted
3 Cups powdered sugar
1 Teaspoon cinnamon
1 Teaspoon nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

To make the cake, combine all of the ingredients and mix well. Pat the mixture into a lightly greased 13x9-inch baking pan. And at this point you're thinking... well, this isn't SO bad (at least not for Paula Deen). I mean, 8 Tablespoons of butter? Yeah, that hurts a little bit... but it's not gonna kill me. And then you make the filling...

In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese and pumpkin until smooth. Add the eggs, vanilla, and EIGHT MORE Tablespoons of butter... and beat together. Next, add the powdered sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and mix well.

Spread pumpkin mixture over cake batter and bake for 40 to 50 minutes. Make sure not to over bake as the center should be a little gooey. Then serve it to your family... and have the car running in case anyone can't handle their butter.

It's okay...it won't bring about world peace or sooth the weary soul, but you can eat it, knowing that it's not the last dessert you'll ever know... and just enjoy it for what it is... a little over the top, a bit cheapened by the commercialized-out-of-a-box taste, different than what you'd normally make...but still beckoning the holidays.

Blessings to you all this Thanksgiving Eve... may you know a rhythm of peace and joy and hope... even if it's a little different this year...

Never Had a Chance: Pumpkin Fudge

2011-11-08T20:56:00.002-06:00

Do you ever have those moments, where you revert back to Middle School? You know, those moments... where even if you tried REALLY, really hard... you couldn't be less cool?

In the seventh grade, I had a crush on this boy; his name was Brian. (Interesting side note: over the course of six years in Middle School and High School, I probably had a crush on half a dozen different boys named Brian. It was my thing.)

Brian was dreamy in that scrawny, clean-cut, seventh-grade-jock-boy, kind of way. Now rest assured, it was a rare day when someone would have used the word "dreamy" to describe me. Instead, I was relatively invisible and a bit awkward in that "I know I'm too old to play with Cabbage Patch dolls, but I'd still really like one for Christmas" kind of way. So when I felt a bit of "cool" coming on... I tried to go with it. And by cool, I mean, I snuck makeup and a can of hairspray into the girls bathroom and went nutty.

One dreary day (and really, what day isn't dreary when you're in Middle School), I was riding high on my Aqua Net fumes as I descended the stairs to hell... I mean shop class... and encountered Brian coming up the SAME SET OF STAIRS. I mean, it was like, fate. And to this day, I can't tell you how I mustered the courage... but throwing caution into the wind... with much abandon and flair, I boldly said (out loud and everything), "Hey."

And then proceeded to fall down the stairs. Hitting each one with a memorable bounce and an internal proclamation, to NEVER. RETURN. TO. SCHOOL. AGAIN. Thank the Good Lord, my hair was there to cushion my fall.

Anyway... I had one of those moments the other day... only "Brian" was replaced with two strapping European men, a whole store full of women shopping a purse sale (so they sort of get a "pass" on this one), numerous clerks, and an ENTIRE movie theater full of people... nay, ADULTS... that could have told me that after shopping the clearance racks and trying on clothes at Macy's... I had put my shirt back on... very obviously... inside-out.

Seriously? No one could mention it in passing? Whisper a little something in my ear? Gesture wildly at their own non-existent tags? Laugh, point, make a spectacle? Anything!?

The worst though, was the guy who sold me my movie ticket that night... the same guy who wore a name tag which proudly read, "My favorite movie is Star Wars," and has probably seen the inside of Comic Con, one too many times... he had the audacity to give me Sad Face while he asked, "All alone tonight? Just the one ticket?" At the time, I thought..."Man, sucks to be single in the world." But about half way through the movie, when I reached back and felt the oversized tags of my shirt, flappin' in the wind... I realize Comic Con Man was probably thinking, "Poor thing. Never had a chance."

Well, that's how I feel about this Pumpkin Fudge. Poor thing... never had a chance.

What you'll need:

2 3/4 Cups sugar
3/4 Cup melted salted butter
2/3 Cup evaporated milk
½ Cup pumpkin puree
2 Tablespoons light corn syrup
1 Teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
One (12 oz.) package white chocolate chips
One (7 oz.) jar marshmallow creme
1 Cup chopped walnuts, toasted (optional)
1 Teaspoon vanilla extract

Line a 9-inch square pan with aluminum foil. Spray with nonstick spray.

Stir together first 6 ingredients in a saucepan over medium-high heat, cooking and stirring constantly, until a candy thermometer registers 234° (soft ball stage) or for about 12 minutes. This is pretty important: I have somehow misplaced the candy thermometer I bought a few years ago... so it didn't set up quite right, as evident by the photo below. But if you don't mind eating your fudge with a spoon...

Once the mixture reaches 234°, remove from heat and quickly stir in the white chocolate, marshmallow creme (my love affair with marshmallow cream, has no end), nuts and vanilla until well blended.

Pour into the prepared pan. Let stand 2 hours or until completely cool; cut fudge into squares. Or simply pull up to the pan with your spoon.

It's makes an odd first impression... sweet. I mean sweet, in a way that turns your clothes inside out and makes your insides feel awkward. But apparently, that's how I roll...

Versatile: Dried Figs

2011-10-14T14:06:00.001-05:00

So two things have happened in the last few days.

1. I was given a pumpkin. And...
2. I was given 24 pounds of dried figs.

Yep. Just another average day in October....

I've been asked to "do something" with the bags of figs that our county food bank was given... and by "bags of figs"... I mean ONE THOUSAND, one pound bags of the dried little suckers. That's a lot of figs... for those of you who are quick with your math. A lot.

And you know, it's common knowledge that every food-scarce person and their family, craves figs. Duh.

There's enough raisin-hate in the world... I can image Cousin to the Raisin, the Dried Fig, knows it's fair share of bad jokes and witty limericks. Let's face it... the FIG is a pretty ambiguous fruit for your average mid-westerner. Is it a raisin? Is it a date? It doesn't look like Brad Pitt.

Oh. But wait... there's a handy Nutritional Information sheet included. Using a font, that makes it look like our wedding invitation from ten years ago. Apparently, if you make it pretty enough... no one will wonder why... as a family that struggles to put bread and milk on their table... they were given a very usable and wildly versatile bag of figs.

Anyway, if anyone's got any really good ideas for using large amounts of dried figs... I'd love to hear them.

It needs to be a recipe using basic "food pantry" ingredients, with the recognition that some of the folks coming to the pantry don't have electricity for oven use, may not have running water, or access to things like milk and eggs. I'm considering a carrot and fig salad, maybe a no-bake cookie of some sort.......... Ideas? Anyone?

That's a Pumpkin (W)Rap: 99 Posts for All You Folks

2011-09-20T01:54:00.001-05:00

Why... I hadn't even noticed. But this post, is my 99th post.

That's 99 (plus or minus) references to pumpkin. Approximately 99 cups of pumpkin puree. At least 99 hours that I've sat hunched over my computer, instead of the television (hey... we take the small victories... we can't all be gym goers). And 99 times that I laughed... hoping at least 99 times, that I was able to make someone else laugh. That's 99 times that I wondered what on earth I could possibly make, that might include a cup of pumpkin. And 99 times that I wondered how long I could keep it up and still claim that I loved the orange stuff!

Well...

Surely, I can't go into my 100th post, with the same ol' schtick. Besides, I think I'm dreaming a new... old... dream.

And it's doubtful that it will include much pumpkin.

But I promise it will include much gnashing of teeth, hang wringing, and pearl clutching. Does that help? Self inflicted poverty, huge risks, and a total vocational life change? How about I promise that it will include LO-HA-HA-TS (I mean LOTS) of sugar? Surely that helps! (Again. We can't all be gym goers. I mean, think of the doctors... who would pay their salaries?)

So as I consider which way my life ought to turn... I'll pull up a few of my favorite pumpkin posts...

* I loved the Pumpkin Bread Pudding and it just really smacked of Fall. You know, if you're in to that sort of thing...

* I could eat a Pumpkin Waffle everyday of my life, and be pretty happy about it. (If I've said it once, I'll say it 99 more times... having a gym membership, makes you cool? Using it, does not.)

* The Pumpkin Toaster Strudels? Why yes. I will have another. And maybe just one for the road.

* And I really loved the Pumpkin Tiramisu.

* A fan favorite (Hi Dad!) was the Pumpkin Butter. GREAT on fresh biscuits, poured on ice cream, used with your waffles and pancakes... or you could do the conventional thing... and make toast. Whatever.

* And if you're tired of the sugar crashes that come with knowing me...try the Pumpkin Focaccia Bread. This was probably the most original recipe in the bunch and if I do say so myself, one of the best.

But quite possibly, my shining moment... that time when I really stood up and taught you all a little something about myself and the art of the pumpkin puree... was the Pumpkin Puree Rap. I know. It brings a tear to my eye as well.... I'll wait while you get a tissue. Of course, I am still waiting for JayZ to give me some credit on that one... look for it on his album coming out this Fall... him and Beyonce do a duet, that is just to die for.

And really... I'm grateful for the Pumpkin Patch in Scottsdale, Arizona (back in 2003)... that started it all. And a sweet, curious, puppy-Wyatt to warm any cold hearts out there.

Here's to 99 more moments of curiosity, 99 opportunities filled with hope, and 99 new dreams...

Summer Moments: I'm Not Dead Yet!

2011-08-30T20:15:00.005-05:00

Despite my virtual absence... and hem-hawyness concerning this blog...I've actually been out and about.

A retrospective:

Aunt D and Me at the Komen's Survivors Luncheon!
Not once, did they play "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gynor,
but it was a fantastic experience. Breathtaking...to be
in a room of so many survivors.
"At first I was afraid, I was petrified..."
Bops head, walks away.

Meeting Josh Groban. Backstage passes! Giddy like a
school girl!

I considered briefly, leaving Brett for little Joshy-poo.
But I figured with all his traveling and stuff,
we'd never get to see each other. And really,
that's no way to build a relationship.

So instead, I hung out with Brett that night and enjoyed
a free concert (luckiest boy in the world, won tickets).

Is it opera? Is it rock and roll? You JUST CAN'T TELL!
Josh Groban has a new fan.

The rarely seen Dikdik. Too. Many. Jokes...

The East African Crowned Crane....head.

Girl Cheetah. You can't see it, but I'm curled up
behind her. Just chillin'.

Baby Rhino and Mama Rhino.
I can actually hear the collective... "Awwwwww."

Fourth of July. Weird eye follows me everywhere.

"I wanna be, where the people are..."
Name that sad-sack tune, and I'll send you a
five dollar bill in the mail.

Mammy and Pappy at the ol' watering hole for a
Birthday celebration!

The two Birthday Gals! Aunt D turning 60 and
my Mother turning... ouch! That hurt.

I'm so artsy and stuff. Dude.

The Thompson siblings...
Aunt D, Uncle D, Dad D, & Aunt D.
Really, I'm not kidding... they're related.

But of course...

Canned some pickled peppers.
Like seventeen, 1/2 pint jars worth.

What you'll need:
1/2 Pound jalapeno and
banana pepper mix
2 Cups white vinegar
2/3 Cups sugar
1/2 Teaspoon mustard seed
1/2 Teaspoon celery seed

Sterilize jars, warm lids, etc. Bring
vinegar, sugar, and spices to a rolling
boil. Fill hot jars with peppers.
Pour hot pickling juice over peppers
leaving 1/2 inch head space.
Wipe rim of jar. Place lids and
screw on band until finger-tip
tight. Leave untouched for two weeks.

A Funny: National Tell A Joke Day

2011-08-16T10:31:00.000-05:00

Today is National Tell A Joke Day. Who knew?

So here's a pumpkin joke:

Q: What do you use to mend a broken jack-o-lantern?

A: A pumpkin patch.

Speaking of "a pumpkin patch"... Brett's church will get their pumpkins on October 15! Which we all know, is RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER!

Okay... one more:

Q: What's black, white, orange and waddles?

A: A penguin holding a pumpkin.

Have a funny day!

A Head Scratcher: Pumpkin Kaya

2011-08-09T10:23:00.001-05:00

I was messin' around with my blog... considering a new direction... wondering if "this ship has sailed" when I came across a post I wrote back in March (?) but never published. So while I wonder what's next in my life (on many levels), here's a little something to pass the time:

These guys, run amuck in my front yard. And if you're into that sort of thing... they're quite beautiful.

Then, this weekend, this little oddity showed up.

Is it...

A Turis? Or an Irup?

Seriously? I've never seen anything like it.

And that, friends, is how I feel about this Pumpkin Kaya. Is it hummus? Is it pudding? Maybe we call it pummus? Or humming.

But it's sort of not good enough to be either. So then, I'm just left a little confused. And wanting pudding.

What you'll need:

4 1/4 Cups pumpkin puree (I used canned here... fewer fibers so the texture was a bit smoother)
2/3 Cup coconut cream

3/8 Cup brown sugar

8 Young pandan leaves

Combine the pumpkin, coconut cream, brown sugar, and pandan leaves in a pot over medium-low heat. Cook, stirring frequently, until mixture is thick and smooth, about 1 hour; remove leaves and discard. Cool kaya before serving; refrigerate unused portion.

Not to be too culturally insensitive... "kaya," besides being the name of one of Bob Marley's records, is a coconut jam made with eggs, popular in Singapor and Malaysia, and is generally served on white toast. This one, made with pumpkin, omits the egg and finds it's creamy texture via orange gourd. And before you go pulling out your canning supplies... I should warn you...

Well. I should just warn you. It messes with your mind.

I'm Sorry

2011-06-15T08:22:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry. This is what I get for... working.

It's highly over-rated.

Someday, I'll post a few things I've got in the works... 'till then... work well, sleep a good nine hours a night, and enjoy a little sun for me!

Sunday Morning: Carrot Cake Jam

2011-05-14T15:43:00.000-05:00

We don't have children. But we do have two dogs that act like children.

Scratch that. We have two dogs that are treated like children.

Sunday morning was "Interceptor Day!" It sounds fancy, doesn't it? Like there should be fireworks and congressional lapel pins, but really, it's just the day that my dogs get their heartworm medicine. And I suppose if you'd like to fashion a congressional lapel pin based on heartworms, well, be my guest. But I prefer to celebrate, by typing the monthly task into my online computer calendar that way...with caps and an exclamation point. Interceptor Day! Makes me feel excited about something. (sad face)

We are a bonified pet pharmacy in our house. Boy Dog has quite a few issues... a few of which we medicate for, three times a day, with the helpful use of hotdogs. You stick the pill in a chunk of cheap hotdog and Boy Dog will swallow it whole. And even though there's not a single thing wrong with Girl Dog, she of course, must have a hot dog as well. This is reminiscent of grandparents, who give the older child a gift, "so they don't feel left out," when the younger child has a birthday. (Ugh. I won't get on my soapbox.)

So, back to Sunday morning. Interceptor Day!

The morning started out as it normally does, with me, groggily standing at the top of the stairs... it's a sight to be seen. All this 'aint a pretty picture in the morning... but the dogs don't seem to mind, and normally, they eagerly greet me on the stairs for their morning gooby-boooby-boo session. Uh, yea... that's puppy talk. Anyway.

This morning, they were mysteriously absent.

Covering the living room and moving towards the coffee pot in record speed, due to the absence of my canine speed bumps, something caught my eye.

It was the wrapper, from a stick of butter, which had been left on the table from dinner the night before. Just an empty wrapper... which means one of the dogs, had just eaten a stick of butter.

Coffee in hand and still missing the normal company of my dogs... I headed to the basement... to find Boy Dog eating a roll of paper towels. I suppose you need something to wipe the butter grease off your mouth, right?

Now, I have to say... up until this point... I've kept my cool. I find the emergency vet's phone number... I calmly explain that one of my dogs has eaten a roll of paper towels for breakfast... and one or the other, has topped it off with a stick of butter. "Need I be concerned?" I ask. Friendly Vet-Tech says, "oh no, don't worry about it... you just might have a few rough days ahead of you." Joy.

I hang up the phone. I give the dogs a dirty look. I give God thanks that a roll of paper towels and a stick of butter did not cost me a few hundred dollars with aforementioned Friendly Vet-Tech... and I remember that it is Interceptor Day! Yeah!

Grabbing hot dogs and pills, I pop the tiny Interceptor pills into their respective hotdogs, and present our eager, albeit stopped up dogs with their medicated treats. Boy Dog, per his usual behavior, swallows his whole. Girl Dog, sensing that there is something amis... something has been SNUCK into her normally "pure" hotdog... must investigate. Taking it carefully in her mouth, she moves to the living room... well, this is NOT my first time on the ferriswheel, and being the gifted and talented dog-mother that I am, I anticipate this move... so I squarely position myself between Girl Dog, Hot Dog... and Boy Dog. Sternly, I look the drooling mess of a Boy Dog in the eye and say, "Don't even think about it."

He looks at me... sizes up the opening between my legs... looks back at me... and begins to lunge forward... "NO!" I have stopped him in his tracks.

Yeah. That's right. Who's top dog?

He looks at me again... sizes ME up... thinks it through... refers to his Dog Manual... calls his buddy in Arizona who concurs... and decides that the benefits of having another hotdog, FAR outweigh the repercussions.

Dropping my hand to the floor to retrieve the hotdog... I miss it by seconds... and before I can say "Bad Dog" it had slipped down the proverbial hatch. Now Boy Dog has had two heartworm pills.

And I sort of lost it.

WYYYYYAAAAATT!!!!!!!

Mother's grabbed their playing children out of the driveways and ushered them inside. Birds retreated to the safety of the skies. Dogs ceased their barking. And the neighborhood cats... laughed.

For maybe the third time in nearly 8 years... Wyatt had made me mad. And he knew it. No sooner had I turned around, Boy Dog was making his way out to the garage with his tail tucked and head down.

And I dialed the emergency vet's number... again.

The conversation went something like this:

"Hi! I called a few minutes ago about the dog that ate the stick of butter and the roll of paper towels. Yeah... well, I'm pretty sure I just overdosed that same dog. Please don't call animal control."

By the end of the conversation, Friendly Vet-Tech assured me he would not die, but would merely experience an upset tummy and (my absolute favorite), possibly some "loose stool."

Hanging up the phone, I realized I still needed to get Abby her Interceptor pill. Stuffing it in a hotdog and offering it to her, I was failing miserably... so, I resorted to the ol', crank-her-mouth-open-and-stuff-it-down-her-throat trick.

Two times. Three times. Four times... each one, followed by the dramatics of dry heaving and gagging noises. Trying one more time, I found her jaw... completely locked. Like Fort Knox. She was NOT going to take that pill.

Finally, dejected, despondent, and nearly on the verge of tears...and not one to be above theatrics... I crumpled to the floor, barely squeaking out, "Abby. I just can't do it anymore. You win. You all win." And I sat there, with my arms crossed. Holding in my hand, a hot dog with the "back up" pill stuffed inside...

Within a few minutes, I watch as Girl Dog belly-crawled over to me... head down, eyes averted... and stuck her sweet nose in to the crook of my elbow. All but crawling into my lap, she waited... waited for me to forgive her, waited for words of reassurance, waited for a single touch, that showed her that it was all better.

And after a few minutes... convinced that I wasn't going to throw her out of the pack... she lifted her head, and turned to my other hand, where the hotdog was still clenched.

Nuzzling open my hand, she gently took the hot dog... and with great intentionality, chewed... and swallowed.

Some things just aren't worth the fight.

So on this cool, almost Fall-like day, don't fight it... make this jam. It'll make me happy... and as you can see... I need a little happiness in my life!

What you'll need:
1 1/2 Cups finely grated (and peeled) carrots
1 1/2 Cups finely diced peeled and cored tart apples, such as granny smith
1 3/4 Cups canned crushed pineapple, including juice
3 Tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
3/4 Teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 Teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 Cup raisins
One (1.75-ounce) package powdered fruit pectin

6 1/2 Cups granulated sugar

1/2 Teaspoon butter

1/2 Cup finely chopped walnuts

If you are going to preserve this jam, you'll want to prepare everything as you normally would... boil the jars, warm the lids and rings, etc.

Combine carrots, apples, pineapple, lemon juice, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves in large, heavy saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring constantly. Reduce heat to simmer, cover, and cook 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Meanwhile, pulse raisins in food processor until finely chopped. That way, all you raisin haters won't be able to tell they're in there! Whooo-ha-ha-ha. That was my evil laugh. Set aside.

After 20 minutes, remove the pot from heat and stir in pectin until dissolved. Stir in raisins, breaking up clumps with back of spoon. Return pot to heat and bring to boil. Add sugar all at once. Die a little bit inside, when you see 6 and 1/2 cups of sugar go into something you will be serving your friends and family, and return to a boil, stirring constantly. Add butter and boil hard for one minute. Remove pot from heat, skim off any foam if you want (though I usually skip this step), and stir in walnuts.

Ladle hot jam into hot sterilized jars, leaving 1/4-inch headspace. Wipe rims of the jars, cover with lids, and screw bands on until just barely tight. Place jars on rack in pot and cover completely with water. Cover pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Boil for 10 minutes. Turn off heat, uncover pot, and allow jars to rest in water for five minutes. Remove jars from pot and allow them to sit undisturbed on the countertop for six hours or overnight.

I wish I had been the one to create this recipe... because it is GENIUS! But alas, I found it at seriouseats.com days ago... you know, when there was snow on the ground and I was foolishly searching for recipes that would convince me that Spring was on its way... It's sweet. Sticky. I sort of wish it had more carrots in it (literally, never thought I would say that). And has six and half cups of sugar in it. But it's totally worth a try... and the sugar crash that follows.

Please enjoy and... by the way, Boy Dog and I have made up.

A Good Joke: Easter

2011-04-24T21:28:00.002-05:00

Q: What do you call a line of rabbits who are walking backwards?

Hint:

A: A receding hairline.

Happy Easter!

May it be filled with grace, laughter, and moments of ressurection that will surprise you...

Note: No feelings were hurt in the making of this post. Above hairline subject, and butt of minor joke, was a willing participant after a bit of arm twisting.

Not A Low-fat Food: White Chocolate Pumpkin Cups

2011-04-08T09:46:00.001-05:00

One Lent, maybe a year or two ago, I decided to "give up" sugar.

When Protestants give something up for Lent, it always sort of feels like Paris Hilton, putting out a hip-hop cd, where she raps about the hardship of livin' her gangsta life. Or Donald Trump telling me he "understands." Or Sarah Palin running for President. Or, for that matter, Donald Trump running for President. (Um, Canada? You got room for one more?)

In other words... a tiny bit disingenuous.

But I was living in an Anglican world at the time, and it felt like the thing to do.

So I gave up sugar. For six weeks. Minus Feast Days. And not a day more.

During my time in this sugar free world, like any good addict, I found myself needing a fix... and thus, I was drawn to Sugar Free Candy.

The interesting thing about sugar free products, is that they are almost always prominently labeled with a statement that reads, "Not a Low-Fat Food." I found this curious. I'm generally not a package reader beyond a quick glance to see how many ingredients are listed. I know what's good for me... and if I know something is not, I prefer to live in ignorance. But this bold statement had me stcratchin' my noggin, and I decided to investigate.

I mean, is the package bragging? Confessing? Trying to stir up controversy? Wanting it's own reality t.v. show? Who knew?

Except... it was none of those things.

This sugar free candy... a presumably healthy option, if only by virtue of being made with one less ingredient that 60% of all American's are addicted too... is holy-smokes-I-went-up-a-pant-size-full-of-fat!!!

We're not talking a gram or two of "fat differential" here... more like 10-20 GRAMS!

Apparently, when you take the sweet goodness of white sugar and corn syrup out of something... you must plump it up (What? No pun intended.) with fat so that it will satiate in a similar sugar-induced-coma sort of way.

So, needless to say, by Easter Sunday I was ready to celebrate our Risen Lord and Saviour with chocolate bunnies and handfuls of jelly beans. If only so I could button my blouses again.

So here's a little something to get you through the long Lenten days... and I promise, it's totally packed with fat and sugar.

What you'll need:

White chocolate chips or bark (I use Ghirardelli)
Mini (2 inch) foil muffin liners
2 Oz. cream cheese, at room temperature
1/4 Cup pumpkin puree
1 Teaspoon cinnamon
1 Teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 Cup powdered sugar
1 Cup finely ground graham cracker crumbs (a food processor works best here)

Recipe adapted from What Megan's Making.

Line a small muffin tin with 12 mini muffin paper liners. Throw this in the freezer.

Melt the chocolate in increments in the microwave. Make sure not to overheat. White chocolate can scorch pretty quickly, if not watched.

Pull out your cooled muffin tin, and using a small spoon, paint the melted chocolate all over the insides of your mini foil muffin liners. Allow chocolate cups to harden completely by placing muffin tin back in the fridge or freezer while you do the next bit.

In a medium bowl, combine the cream cheese, puree, spices, and vanilla and mix until smooth. Mix in the powdered sugar until smooth, then stir in the graham cracker crumbs. Spoon the pumpkin mixture into your hardened chocolate cups and smooth the top to create an even surface. There's a lot of smoothness going on here.

Re-melt the remaining chocolate if needed and top off your filled cups, smoothing the tops and making sure the chocolate reaches all the way to the edges in order to seal the goodness in. Chill in the fridge until set, about 1-2 hours.

(Not recommended for dogs. Though they might try to convince you otherwise).

Totally genuine. And not lookin' for it's own reality t.v. show. Which means, it might be the only thing in the world, not looking for a reality show.

Home: Canning Dreams

2011-03-26T17:39:00.002-05:00

So last weekend was a gorgeous, 70 degree, Saturday.

You know the kind...babies laughing, children riding their bikes, gardens being planned with hope and expectation, lunches being made and consumed outdoors...

...neighbors, pulling down their pants and urinating in plain view.

I'm not exactly sure why my neighbor couldn't walk five feet into his house to relieve himself...but I'm sure his reply, had I said something, would have been along the lines of "it's my dang property, I can do what I want."

I make that assumption, only because a few hours later on this same delightful, promise-filled day, my husband was outside playing with our dogs... and the neighbor's teenager, hit him with a BB (thankfully, said BB, hit the visor of his hat, and not his eyeball). And the neighbors kid responded along the lines of "it's my dang gun, I can do what I want." Spoken like any good ol', red blooded, American...

So you know...obviously...summer is in the air.

And it got me thinkin' about retiring the pumpkin for a bit and pulling out the canning supplies again...

So, I thought a little preview might be in order! Here's what I've got planned for Spring and early Summer:

Strawberry Jam; how can I not?

Strawberry and Lavender Jam; home grown lavender is sure to invoke memories of Lyon...

Strawberry Jam with Thai Herbs; think cilantro, ripe berries, sugar, and balsamic vinegar...can't help but drool a little.

Strawberry Butter; hubba hubba

Rhubarb Something or Other; I've been a little fixated on growing rhubarb...but it takes two years to establish and I believe I've mentioned once or twice before, how patience is not my virtue...so this will likely be based on what I can find at the City Market.

Pickled Asparagus; we'll see.

Carrot Pickles; apparently, all the rage in San Francisco. Who knew?

Anyway. That was the dream...until today.

Now the dream has morphed into visions of ice scrapers and earmuffs. But at least I can rest assured that my neighbor will relieve himself indoors...

Dangit.

Age Old Rituals: Pumpkin King Cake

2011-03-08T15:42:00.010-06:00

Today is Shrove Tuesday. A day in which we are "to shrive" or, for those who speak modern English... a day of celebratory penance.

Traditionally, Shrove Tuesday has been set aside as a day to confess one's sins, receive absolution, and thus, free one's self from sin and guilt... before entering into the somber and penitential season known within the Christian and Catholic churches, as Lent.

At some point, we interpreted this to mean... "drink as much alcohol as humanly possible and show your breasts to strangers, in order to collect cheap beads and trinkets."

What? You don't see the connection?

God is... so proud of us.

If flashing a neighbor is out of the question and confession isn't really up your alley... try a King Cake. Pumpkin style. (There are lots and lots of King Cake recipes out there, and this one, is a conglomeration... but surprisingly, I didn't find a single one, which included pumpkin! So there you go.)

What you'll need:

For the cake/pastry
1/2 Cup milk
2 Tablespoons butter
1 Package active dry yeast
1/3 Cup warm water (110*F/45*C)
1/4 Cup white sugar
1 Egg
3/4 Teaspoon salt
1/4 Teaspoon nutmeg
2-3/4 Cups flour

For the filling
1/2 Cup packed brown sugar
1-1/2 Teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/3 Cup pecans (chopped)
1/4 Cup flour
1/4 Cup melted butter
1/2 Cup pumpkin puree

For the icing
1/2 Cup confectioners sugar
1-1/2 Teaspoons water
Colored sugar
A bean of your choosing

Scald milk, remove from heat and stir in butter. Allow mixture to cool to room temperature. In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in the warm water with 1 tablespoon of the white sugar. Let stand until frothy, about 10 minutes.

When yeast mixture is frothy, add the cooled milk mixture. Whisk in the egg. Stir in the remaining sugar, salt and nutmeg. Beat the flour into the milk/egg mixture 1 cup at a time. When the dough has pulled together, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 8 to 10 minutes. Lightly oil a large bowl, place the dough in the bowl and turn to coat with oil. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 2 hours.

While that's doing its thing, combine the brown sugar, ground cinnamon, chopped pecans, and 1/2 cup flour. Pour 1/2 cup melted butter over the cinnamon mixture and mix until crumbly. Add the puree and stir.

Roll dough out into a large rectangle (approximately 10x16 inches or so). Spread the filling evenly over the dough and roll tightly like a jelly roll, beginning at the widest side. Bring the ends of each roll together to form an oval shaped ring. (Mine lost it's oval-ness, but tasted just fine.) Place on a greased or parchment covered cookie sheet. Let rise in a warm spot until doubled in size, about 45 minutes. Preheat your oven to 375*.

Bake in preheated oven for 30 minutes. Push a doll or a bean into the bottom of the cake. Frost while warm with the powdered sugar blended with 1 to 2 tablespoons of water. Sprinkle with colored sugar, according to your preference.

Cut a piece while it's still warm, and Oh. My. Gosh. You'll know then, what it is that you shall "shrive."

Blessings to you this Shrove Tuesday...

Resentments: Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies

2011-03-04T11:16:00.002-06:00

There's a lot being said these days, about dear old Charlie Sheen.

How he's gone crazy... how the drugs have finally done their job... how he's a sex addict. Or an alcoholic. Or addicted to the Internet. Or chocolate. Or peanut shells. Or eating the dadgum stuffing found inside your living room couch. (Did anyone see that special on TLC?)

I don't agree with any of these assertions. I think... he's an overpaid punk that's never had to work for the life he lives and can't comprehend the normal boundaries which the rest of the world (either willingly or reluctantly) lives within.

But that's just me.

What can I say? Compassion is not my strong suit.

I say... put him in one of these get-ups for a few weeks. And lets see what happens?

"Resentments...are the rocket fuel that lives in the tip of my saber." (C. Sheen, 2011)

Yeah. You don't know how many times I've heard that, this past week.

Ignore this who-haw, and bake some cookies. Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies.

What you'll need:

2 Cups all purpose flour

2 1/3 Cups old fashioned oats
1 Teaspoon baking soda
1/2 Teaspoon baking powder
1/2 Teaspoon salt
2 Teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 Teaspoon pumpkin pie spice (it's like, the bottle that never runs dry!)
1 Cup (2 sticks) butter - softened
3/4 Cup dark brown sugar
3/4 Cup granulated sugar
2 Tablespoons honey
1 Cup pumpkin puree
1 Large egg
1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Extra bits: cranberries, chocolate chips, walnuts, pecans, etc.

Preheat your oven to 350* and line the baking sheets with parchment paper.

Cream butter and sugars together until light and fluffy. Add egg, pumpkin, vanilla, and spices and mix until just combined. Add flour, baking soda, and baking powder, stirring until combined... then add your oats.

Divide your batter and add your "bits" accordingly. I put cranberries and walnuts in one batch (Yum!)... semi-sweet chocolate chips in another (meh.).. pecans and milk chocolate (okay)... plain pecans (the best!)... just throw in whatever your little, crazy heart desires.

Bake each batch 10-13 minutes.

And by the way, for those of you who know the cone head above... he is doing well. He's certainly not fixed, but at the very least, we bought some more time. Time... to live with his incoherent rantings, hotdog binges, and shady behavior with Princess, the street-dog from down the road. Sigh.

St. Valentine: Pumpkin Tiramisu

2011-02-14T10:22:00.005-06:00

Oh hey! Guess what?! Today is Valentine's Day!!

Noooooo.... it wasn't in November when WalMart started to throw boxes of pre-made iced sugar cookies on the shelves. As appetizing as that sounds...

Or in December when Target threw open the doors and filled every last crevice with red and white Saint Valen-tiny memorabilia.

OR January, when our local grocery store started to convince me that if I didn't pre-order my red roses RIGHT NOW, I'd be sorry, grow an awkward and unexplainable fungus on my foot, and die a lonely old maid.

Nope. It's today.

So my husband... my dear, sweet, beautiful husband... took me to IHOP for lunch and then (yes, it actually gets better) we went to Sam's Club... to buy a printer.

I know.

You don't have to say it.

Romance is alive and well, in the metro.

So in return, I smoothed down the hair on my legs and made Pumpkin Tiramasu.

What you'll need:
1 1/2 Cups whipping cream
1 Package of gelatin
3/4 cup sugar
1 (8-ounce) container mascarpone cheese
1 Cup pumpkin puree
2 Packages ladyfingers or a loaf of pound cake, cut into "finger" sized strips
1/4+ Cup coffee liqueur (I used Sheridans, which is just about the best coffee chocolate flavored liqueur out there)
Crushed toffee bars (Buy four. Eat one. Use two for the tiramisu. Stash the other for that day.)

Dissolve gelatin in about 1/4 Cup whipping cream. Pour remainder whipping cream and gelatin-ized cream together, and beat with sugar, until peaks form. Add mascarpone cheese and pumpkin, and beat just until filling is smooth.

Line the bottom of a springform pan (my springform is on the small side, and it still works wonderfully) with 1 package ladyfingers, overlapping and crowding to fit. Sprinkle with a generous few tablespoons of liqueur. But don't be so generous, that there's none left for the juice glass that you may or may not have filled, for yourself. Spread half of the filling over the ladyfingers.

Repeat with the second package ladyfingers, remaining coffee liqueur, and remaining filling. Smooth. Wrap tightly in plastic, then foil. Chill overnight or at least, 6-8 hours.

It's beautiful, it's lovely, and Saint Valentine would be proud.

Proud, no doubt, that we've run his name and his message, through the chocolate and candy heart mud.

But anyway...

I pray you know love today... from a spouse, a partner, a dear friend, or a family member. I hope your dog or your cat can take a few minutes out of their busy, busy lives to show you how much you mean to them. But most of all, I hope you love yourself today... despite the fungus.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Gettin' Fancy: Pumpkin Cake with Honey Creamcheese Frosting

2011-02-12T07:56:00.002-06:00

Well, it's time to pull out my purdy dress.

My cousin is getting married today.

What is it about weddings, that turn regular, down-to-earth women, into little girls who "sqeeeee" at the mention of ballgown dresses and tiny after dinner mints? Made out of cream cheese. (sigh)

Or that turn naturally reserved, happily-married women, into blushing bride-wanna-be-agains?

What is it about weddings, that turn sweatpant wearing, mascara-on-a-good-day, hair in a ponytail type women, into giddy "mercy me, what am I gonna wear," sort of a women?

I mean for the love of all that's holy. The wedding is in Arkansas. If I get shoes on this morning, it'll be a step in the right direction.

(I didn't mean that. I have friends... I have family... in Arkansas. Not one of them has ever been shoeless in my presence.)

Anyway, to celebrate this festive and fancy occasion, I have Pumpkin Cake with a Honey Cream Cheese Frosting. (There are lots of folks on the Internet who do this cake... but I'll attribute it to Martha Stewart, since "she is to weddings," what "AARON RODGERS IS TO GREENBAY!!!!!!!" Sorry. Had to.)

What you'll need:

cake
1/2 Cup butter, melted
1 Tablespoon pumpkin-pie spice (still trying to work my way through it)
1 Teaspoon cinnamon
Dash or two of nutmeg
2 Eggs
1 1/2 Cups sugar
2 1/2 Cups pumpkin puree
2 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour
2 Teaspoons baking soda

frosting
1/4 Cup butter
8 Oz. reduced fat cream cheese
1/4 Cup honey
1 Teaspoon cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and spray a 9-inch square baking pan with non-stick baking spray.

In a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking soda, salt, and pumpkin-pie spice. In a large bowl, whisk eggs, sugar, butter, and pumpkin puree until combined. Add dry ingredients to pumpkin mixture, and mix gently until smooth. Pour into prepared pan, and smooth top. Bake until a toothpick inserted in center of cake comes out with just a few moist crumbs attached, 45 to 50 minutes. Cool cake 10 minutes in pan, then turn out of pan, and cool completely, right side up, on a rack.

Make Honey Frosting: In a medium bowl, whisk butter, cream cheese, and honey until smooth. Spread top of cooled cake. I didn't, and it slid all around like it was trying to escape.

Okay. So it's no wedding cake.

Not even close.

But the honey does add a flavor that I don't often pair with pumpkin and the cake is so moist, it was hard to tell when it was done... so make sure you cook it thoroughly... and enjoy!

Now, I need to go find something to wear, that has deep pockets...there are cream cheese mints to be stashed!

Dreams: Pumpkin Oatmeal

2011-01-29T10:12:00.001-06:00

I was watching the X Games tonight.

I'll let that sink in first.

Ministers wives aren't generally X Game watchin' sort of folk. But me?

Well, let's just say that, if I could laminate my "list" (that's a Friends reference), a little red-headed, boy-wonder, named Shaun White, would be front and center.

Anyway, we were watching Snowboard Cross this evening, and I turned to Brett and said, "You know, I'd really like to learn how to snowboard."

A few minutes later, the commentators said something about a 28 year old competitor getting ready to "age out" and I turned back to Brett and said, "I'm gonna need to get on the ball... my time is almost up."

And Brett goes, "Are you planning on competing?" And I, with all sincerity, said, "Well, I am having a bit of an identity crises...maybe this is the way I go!"

Maybe you had to be there... but we laughed for ten minutes.

Now, to be clear... I once stepped out of bed, twisted my ankle, and couldn't walk for two days. Gretchen Blierler made up a trick called The Crippler, which involves spinning 180*, 60 feet in the air, while you're upside down. I figure as soon as I can master Getting Out Of Bed (an exceptionally difficult trick, some mornings)... I'm just a few rides away from tackling the Crippler.

So of course, I'll need a hearty breakfast to fuel my day on the slopes (we're going to completely ignore the fact, that the nearest" slope", and-by-slope-I-mean-icy-hill, is about two hours away) and I made Pumpkin Oatmeal.

What you'll need:
1 Cup old fashioned oats
1 1/2 Cup Light soy milk
2 Teaspoons brown sugar
1/2 Teaspoon pumpkin pie spice (had some left in my cabinet; trying to get rid of it)
1/2 Teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 Cup pumpkin puree (heaping)
Handful of dried cranberries

Bring milk and oats to a boil and let simmer, stirring occasionally, for about five minutes. Stir in sugar, spice... and everything nice. Including pumpkin. Let simmer for another minute or two. Stir in cranberries.

It wasn't too bad. I mean... it's oatmeal, so let's have some perspective. But it would be a great way to use up leftover puree. Or I can even imagine throwing some pumpkin pie... like actual, leftover pie... into the oatmeal. Might be good.

So, live out your dreams today. Even if it only means getting out of bed, without hurting yourself.

No Dimethylopolysiloxane: Pumpkin Walnut Focaccia Bread

2011-01-22T14:48:00.000-06:00

I read in a recent Consumer Reports, that McDonald's Chicken McNuggets are prepared using a preservative called TBHQ. Apparently, TBHQ is derived from petroleum.

I'm not entirely sure what the problem is. I mean, if it's good enough for my car, it's good enough for me, right? Just don't get my mother started about the antifreeze that the "bakers" put in the pound cakes, at Sam's. But again, I say... if it's good enough for my car...

A bit more disturbing though?

I also read that chicken nuggets (you know, that yummy ground up chicken paste that constitutes a meat) are mixed with Dimethylpolysiloxane (say that, ten times), an anti-foaming agent used in hair conditioner.

Why the heck do chickens need hair condition? They barely have any hair.

Anyway. Make some Pumpkin Walnut Focaccia Bread. Nothing weird or hard to pronounce. Just yummy goodness, while you try to live into your new year resolutions! (This recipe is from the Cooking Light Magazine, and each slice... you get eight out of each loaf... will only set you back 169 calories. Not bad, considering you can eat an over-processed "thin bagel" for 110 calories and feel utterly unsatisfied, exactly four minutes after you finish it. Or is that just me?)

What you'll need:

3/4 Cup warm water (100*-110*)
1/3 Cup packed brown sugar
1 Package dry yeast (which for most jars, ends up being somewhere around 2-2 1/2 teaspoons)
3 1/2 Cups bread flour
3 Tablespoons melted butter
1 Cup pumpkin puree
1 Teaspoon salt
1/4 Teaspoon nutmeg
3/4 Cup grated Gruyere cheese
Cornmeal for sprinkling
Walnuts, coarsely chopped

Combine water, sugar, and yeast in a large bowl; let stand 5 minutes. Lightly spoon flour into dry measuring cups; level with a knife. Add 1 cup flour and butter to yeast mixture; stir just until combined. Cover and let rise in a warm place (85°), free from drafts and mean Republicans, for 30 minutes.

Add pumpkin, salt, and nutmeg to flour mixture; stir until well combined. Add 2 1/4 cups flour and half of cheese; stir until a soft dough forms. Turn dough out onto a floured surface. Knead until smooth and elastic (about 8 minutes); add enough of remaining 1/4 cup flour, 1 tablespoon at a time, to prevent dough from sticking to hands (dough will feel tacky, but that's probably just the powder blue leisure suit in it's closet).

Place dough in a large bowl coated with cooking spray or olive oil, turning to coat top. Cover and let rise in a warm place (85°), free from drafts, 1 hour or until doubled in size. (Press two fingers into dough. If indentation remains, dough has risen enough.) Punch dough down; cover and let rest 5 minutes. Divide dough in half; shape each half into an 8-inch circle. Place dough circles on a baking sheet sprinkled with cornmeal. Sprinkle remaining cheese and nuts evenly over dough circles; press lightly to adhere. Lightly coat dough circles with cooking spray; cover and let rise 20 minutes (dough will not double in size).

Preheat oven to 400°.

Uncover dough; bake at 400° for 30 minutes or until loaves are browned on the bottom and cheese melts (shield loaves with foil to prevent overbrowning, if necessary). Cool on a wire rack.

Very yummy, free of motor oil or windshield wiper fluid, and quite filling! Enjoy!

Glamour Shots: Pumpkin Rangoons

2011-01-16T21:57:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting here, watching the Golden Globes...

Beauty, brains, fabulous dresses, gainful employment, success. ALL THINGS I WANT.

Those are in no particular order, by the way.

But did I mention the dresses?

I'm a bit distracted by her unkempt eyebrows...but who am I to judge? I haven't shaved my legs in three months.

Brett is a lucky, lucky man.

And then there was this one.... simple, elegant, beautiful.

The glasses are overkill... but it's Hollywood. What do you expect? And yes, Claire, we get it... you're cool.

Anyway, for this fancy affair, I made Pumpkin Rangoons (baked, not fried, like any good starlet).

What you'll need:

Wonton papers (found in Asian speciality stores)

1 Cup pumpkin puree

2 Tablespoons brown sugar

2 Teaspoon honey

1 Teaspoon powdered sugar

1 Teaspoon cinnamon

1 Teaspoon nutmeg

Dash of ginger

2 oz. or 2 Servings of light cream cheese

Preheat oven to 325* and line baking sheet with parchment paper. Cut wonton papers into even squares. Most packages come in 8x8 sheets, allowing you to make four wontons out of each sheet. Mix all ingredients together and please note, that you can be overly generous with your spices... this is not rocket science. Or like sitting through Meet Joe Black. Which might just be, the most tedious, longest, most inane movie ever made. In 1998.

I'm a little old school.

Dollop a rounded spoonful onto each wonton paper, which has previously been cut into even squares. Wet your fingertips and scrunch those suckers together so they look like little elegant, drawstring, evening bags. Place them gently on your baking sheet and bake for about 12-15 minutes. They'll start to brown, so keep a watchful eye one them. Take them out and let them cool on the baking sheet for a few minutes before serving. Sprinkle generously with powdered sugar.

And don't let this happen:

Eeeeeeeverybody wants to be a star.

Anyway. Devour.

Love.

And call your publicist. You're gonna have some 'splanin to do in the morning.

Snow Day: Pumpkin Pancakes

2011-01-10T13:42:00.008-06:00

I'm easing back into the blogging world today.

It's a snow day here in the metro, and my husband and I are nestled up by the fire in our footie pjs, waiting for the storm of the century to pass.

Aaaaaany minute now, it's really gonna start to snow.

Crickets.

Any minute.

Crickets.

Okay. Nothing to tell the grandchildren about... but to be fair, it is a bit treacherous out there...

I always imagine my brother and sister-in-law in Milwaukee, rolling their eyes at our "snow" as they plow their way to work in 10-12 inches. It's just another January day, for them.

But I really feel for their kids, you know... they'll never really know what a snow-day is... what it means to rush to the window, throw open the curtains, and do the Pauly D fist pump in celebration of freedom. They'll never really know what it means to spend two hours pulling out the sled and piling on 15 layers of clothes, to waddle their way to the nearest hill for thirty minutes of exhausting fun... and, when they're finished and having stripped back down to their skivvies, proceed to drive their parents insane. They'll just never know...

Dang winter preparedness.

Anyway, with 40 some odd cups of pumpkin in my freezer, and no good sledding hill within walking distance, I figured today was a great day to jump back on the pumkin' train.

Here's what you'll need for Pumpkin Pecan Pancake.

2 Cups all purpose flour

4 Teaspoons baking powder

3/4 Teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 Teaspoon nutmeg

Dash or two of allspice

3/4 Cup sugar

1 1/4 Cups pumpkin puree (if using canned, use 1 1/2 - 2)

3 Eggs

3/4 Cup milk

3/4 Vegetable oil

1 1/2 Teaspoon vanilla

Chopped pecans to taste

Sift together all your dry ingredients.

I rarely have the patience for sifting... so a few years ago, I got rid of my large baking sifter and kept this tiny, little, novelty sifter that I found for 99 cents at a kitschy little kitchen store. So sifting a significant amount of dry ingredient, like so, takes about two days. But it's totally worth it, ensuring that you get a nice fluffy pancake at the end of the day.

In a separate bowl, combine all the wet ingredients and whisk them together. When well combined, pour the wet ingredients into the dr,y and stir until "just combined," being careful not to overstir. You don't want all that sifting, to be for naught. Fold in your chopped pecans.

Pour by the 1/4 to 1/2 cup full onto your hot griddle, flipping when each pancake begins to bubble.

I'm not gonna lie... these are good and yummy. So have yourself a snow-day. And I hope you know what it means to enjoy throwing back the curtains to see a blanket of snow.

Disclaimer: The photos seem to have uploaded with a really low resolution. I'm still getting used to a new toy I received/won prior to Christmas.... an iPad. So it might take me some time to figure it all out. Please bear with me.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-25T09:00:00.000-06:00

Getting Hired: Pumpkin Bars

2010-12-04T12:57:00.003-06:00

My husband's always been a big fan of "The Bar" desserts. For those of you who don't know what these are... think "sweet casserole." I always figured this had something to do with the fact that my husband grew up in a household that was pretty entrenched in the church. Monthly potluck dinners, weekly youth group, a father who served (and still serves) as an Elder, a mother who is the choir director...

And when churches interview for choir directors, it usually goes something like this:

"Nice to have you here! Now we have a few questions for you."

"You have a degree in music, I see. And how are you at running the nursery? We gear ours towards birth through 3rd grade."

"Ah! Classically trained! Great! We'll need you to run our Contemporary Service. But make sure it's low key enough to not make our older crowd mad, but loud and raucous enough to pull in the young people. You can do that, right? Do you know how to play the drums?"

"And before we go... how are you at the dessert bars? We try to have a potluck once a month and some of our older folks are starting to put cat food in theirs (...can't stop thinking about Christmas Vacation!!!)."

Dessert bars happen to be my mother-in-laws speciality. She's been their choir director now, for about 30 years.

So tell me I'm wrong.

Here's the Pumpkin Bar. Maybe your calling is be a choir director. You'll have a headstart on the other fools who only know how to bake cupcakes.

What you'll need:

1 Cup flour
1/2 Cup old-fashioned oats
1/2 Cup brown sugar, packed
1/2 Cup butter, softened

Preheat oven to 350*. Combine all these ingredients and mix until it crumbles. Press on the bottom of ungreased 13x9 inch pan. Bake for 15 minutes.

3/4 Cup white sugar
2 1/4 Cup pumpkin puree
1 Can evaporated milk
2 Eggs
2 1/4 Teaspoons pumpkin pie spice

Combine all these ingredients and beat on medium for about a minute or two. It will be very soupy. That's okay. Pour over crust. Bake for 30 minutes. And then combine the two ingredients below.

1 Cup pecans, chopped
1/4 Cup brown sugar, packed

Sprinkle the pecan topping over the pumpkin filling and bake for another 30-40 minutes. Like most recipes, if you use canned puree, you probably won't have to bake it as long... so keep an eye on it and take it out when you can slip a knife in it, and it comes out clean. Cool completely in the pan. And this is what you'll get...

Good enough to get you hired! I promise!

Eat My Words: Pumpkin Toaster Strudels

2010-12-04T12:53:00.004-06:00

Disclaimer: Our computer died on Thanksgiving night. That's why I'm so late in updating. I was grieving.

So, I had to go and make a snide little joke about getting an unfortunate headcold, before my big day of walking.

And guess who got herself a headcold?

I sneezed so many times, I started to loose bladder control. Only other women will know what I'm talking about here.

Then today, I coughed so hard, I'm pretty sure I cracked a rib. No joke. I can't bend over, lay down, or sit in a chair. I've gotten very comfortable standing, while I eat dinner. I'm still a little uncomfortable doing other things while standing. But I won't go there.

Anyway, all that's to say... I did not do the 5k. (Hangs head in shame.) I know. I felt horribly... while I stayed warmly tucked into my sweatpants, my family braved the 14* morning to exercise.

Here's my husband, parents, and Aunt...

Apparently, something on my Aunt's hiney was very interesting.

While Brett and my Dad were off trying to keep up with my Aunt and my Mom... I made Pumpkin Toaster Strudels. Oh. My. Yummy.

What you'll need, to feel the desire to lick your fingers, like so (hey, he earned it!):

Pumpkin Butter (find the recipe here)

Puff Pastry

Powered Sugar

Half and Half

Thaw your frozen pastry for about 40 minutes. Preheat the oven to 375*. Cut into 4x10 strips. Ladle approximately two tablespoons of Pumpkin Butter onto one half of the strip, and fold the dough over on itself. Crimp the edges really good with a crimper or a fork. Bake for 35 minutes or until beautifully gold and flaky.

While their baking, take about 1/2 cup of powdered sugar and a tablespoon or two of half and half (any milk or even water, will do just as well) and mix to make a runny, glaze-ish, type icing. When the pastries come out of the oven, plate them up and drizzle the icing on top.

Still can't believe I wasn't able to walk the 5k (you'll notice I've dropped ALL launguage that involves running, jogging, or otherwise exerting massive amounts of energy).

Maybe next year. Yeah. Next year.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

2010-11-25T10:10:00.002-06:00

Blessings to you, this Thanksgiving Day.

I am immensely thankful for...

...my husband, parents, and family, who make me whole. And make me laugh. Who taught me to see humour in the world, but also taught me to question and change the world.
...friends who don't give up on you, power through reading your blog (!), and will tell you when you've got something in your teeth.
...the daily use of the word, "enough."
...that others thought it worthwhile, to teach me how to read and write and balance my checkbook.
...the limited readership of this blog, which ensures that my high school English teacher doesn't happen upon the last sentence (or any post, for that matter) and admonish me for using "and" one hundred times.
...the fact that I have such abundance in my life, that I can afford to "play" with food.
...for clean water, a heated home, and clothes on my back.
...for people who would care, if suddenly, I was without any of those three things.
...for my dogs and my bunny, who bring joy beyond words.
...for unmeasurable grace and a God who loves us fully and wholly.

Blessings to you all, on this day of Thanksgiving. May you know hope, laughter, and full bellies (but know when you're done)!

Allergy Free: Pumpkin Pie

2010-11-23T17:29:00.004-06:00

My Sister-in-Law and my baby Nephew have allergies. Between them, they are allergic to milk, butter, cheese, chocolate, soy, canola oil, wheat, baby kittens, and rainbows. (Okay, not really the last one... but maybe, the second to last one.)

Several weeks ago, my Brother-in-Law texted me, asking for a dairy-free, soy-free pumpkin pie for his lady (my Sister-in-Law) and his boy (my dear sweet Nephew). This is what I found at http://www.onefrugalfoodie.com/ and tweeked; it's also nut-free and gluten-free.

What you'll need:
1/2 Cup brown sugar, packed
1/4 Cup sugar
1 Teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 Teaspoon ginger
1/4 Teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 Teaspoon allspice
1/8 Teaspoon salt
2 Eggs
2 1/2 Cups pumpkin puree
1 1/2 Teaspoon vanilla
1 Cup coconut milk (don't use low fat)

Preheat your oven to 425ºF.

Combine the sugars, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg or allspice, cloves and salt in a small bowl. In a large bowl, beat the eggs. Beat in the sugars, pumpkin, and vanilla until smooth. Fold in the coconut milk.

Pour the filling into the unbaked pie crust (or see below) and bake for 15 minutes. Reduce the temperature to 350ºF and continue to bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until a knife inserted comes out clean. It may be a bit wobbly still, but it will firm-up as it cools.

Allow the pie to cool on a wire rack for 2 hours (Be patient! This is important). Serve or refrigerate until ready to serve.

A vegetarian, gluten-free, dairy-free crust that I came across in the "comments" section of the same website, and decided to use, is as follows:

2 Cups rolled oats
1/4 Cup agave sweetener
1/4 Cup vegetable oil (but coconut oil would work well here too)
1 Teaspoon cinnamon

Throw the oats in to the food processor and process them for the length of time it takes to sing "Happy Birthday." Mix everything together and prebake the crust at 350 for 10 minutes, before you fill it with the pumpkin pie… and it turns out... but just barely. It looks and tastes, a little bit like a flattened, soggy bowl of oatmeal.

I am thankful that I do not not have these type of restrictive allergies... though if you've ever met my Sister-in-Law, you'd know that she's the cutest, prettiest little thing you ever saw, with a radiant smile and delightful laugh... which I can only assume, has something to do with the fact that she is not tempted daily, by Satan. And by Satan, I mean Block Cheese.

This pie (at least the pumpkin part) is good. Really good! And if you're allergic to to the smell of newborn babies (bleah) and butterfly kisses... this might just work for you!

In Training: Nutmeg Pumpkin Cookies

2010-11-21T16:57:00.005-06:00

Somehow, I committed myself to a 5k on Thanksgiving morning. And agreed to be the team leader. And turned a nice little three person walk... with my Aunt, my Mother, and myself... into a family affair, involving husbands, Fathers, distant cousins, the local deli manager, and a Catholic priest. I've begged my Pulmonologist to walk with me... "it's for the kids," I told her.... but I'm pretty sure she sees right through me, and must know that I fear for my well-being. Seriously fear.

It sounded like a GREAT idea... in early September. When it was warm outside and I couldn't help but think... "oh dude! I've got like, two months to train." Which is a funny sentence in and of itself. Saying dude. And "train" as it pertains to exercise.

Then early October hit... and I'm thinking... "dadgum. I really should get to the gym sometime." And I casually email my cohorts to let them know about an old war injury that's flaring up... so chances are good, I'm gonna need to jog, rather than run, this 5k. (As if I do 5k's every weekend... and this one, is juuuust slipping away from me.)

Then early November rolls around... and I'm thinking... "dadgum. I really should get to the gym sometime." Yet I managed to convince myself that if I "work out everyday, from here on out... everything'll be fiiiiiine." I mentioned in a carefully worded email, that walking briskly might be more up my alley, but that I'm holding out hope. And sent the carefully worded email to seven people, who then forward it to seven people, who then forward it to seven people... and before I knew it, I was getting letters of encouragement from folks in Haiti and President Obama paused for a moment in the middle of his meeting with the Japanese Prime Minister, just to say good luck. It was touching.

And so today, November 21st, after I've worked out a total of two times, I've decided drop the charade and begin a prayer campaign called Operation Coldnflurry. And take pictures (as proof) on my phone, of an ice pack propped on my knee, sending it on to the familial participants, with a sheepish note that says something to the effect, "Cn't wlk. No 5k 4 T." (Because apparently vowels are too hard to type.)

The ice pack may or may not, have been a ruse.

So to kill the time that I'm NOT using to train for my first 5k... I made Pumpkin Nutmeg White Chocolate Chip Cookies.

What you'll need:
1 Cup butter, softened
1 Cup packed brown sugar
1 Teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 Teaspoon baking soda
1 Cup pumpkin puree
1 Egg
2 Teaspoons vanilla
2 Cups all-purpose flour
2 Cups white chocolate chips
1 Cup chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Beat your butter until it's nice and fluffy. Add brown sugar, nutmeg, and baking soda. Beat until combined, scraping bowl occasionally. Beat in pumpkin, egg, and vanilla until combined. Beat in as much of the flour as you can with the mixer. Using a wooden spoon, stir in any remaining flour. Chances are good, that if you're using the homemade puree, you will not need to stop and fold in the remaining flour as the water content of the homemade puree is a bit higher.) Stir in white chocolate and pecan pieces.

Place about two inches apart on baking sheet and bake between 10-13 minutes, or until the edges turn golden and the middles no longer look gooey. Cool them on the baking sheet for about 2 minutes, before having them cool completely on a plate or rack.

Don't be fooled by the fact that these are from Better Homes and Gardens (which in general, is a little on the bland, overly sweet, "every-child's food" end of things). These are great! Each one, is like eating a slice of cake! Delightful... not to mention, helpful, when you're trying to "train."

Now, I'd better go lick some elementary school drinking fountains. See if I can't catch a very unfortunate cold by Thursday.

I Caved: Pumpkin Latte

2010-11-18T15:09:00.001-06:00

So I finally did it.

I turned on the heat.

I wasn't ready. But when my husband crawled out of bed on Sunday morning, his teeth were chattering... I'm a light sleeper, and it wakes me up. And makes me cranky.

Not to mention that when he went to hop in the shower, the steam was so miraculous that I could draw little steam hearts on my pillow. And write P+B 4EVR.

But the kicker was the holy livin' fit my husband threw, when he exited the shower to find that the towels were still in the dryer from the night before, and he was forced to dry off with a washcloth. Not pretty folks.

So, yesterday morning... as the thermostat reminded me that it was 50* in the house... I cranked that sucker up to 62* and lived the good life.

Coupled with a Spiced Pumpkin Latte (that tastes exactly like the overpriced monstrosities at Starbucks)... I might never have to get out of my pajamas again.

What you'll need (as listed and adapted from thekitchn.com)

1 1/2 Cups skim milk
1/2 Cup half and half (it's just the way I do things in my world)
2 Tablespoons pumpkin puree
2 Tablespoons sugar
2 Tablespoons vanilla extract
1/2 Teaspoon cinnamon, allspice, and nutmeg (make this however your tastes prescribe, just add up to 1/2 Teaspoon)
1-2 shots espresso would be ideal, but because we live like our ancestors did... and don't have an espresso maker... I used about 1/2 Cup very strong coffee. If your coffee maker has a 1-4 cup setting, make sure you use it, and add two heaping scoops of grinds to one cup of water.

In a saucepan combine milk, pumpkin and sugar and cook on medium heat, stirring, until steaming. Remove from heat, stir in vanilla and spice, and whisk the mixture until it starts to get foamy. I use a cute little battery operated milk foamier, which I found at IKEA for about $2. It works wonders. Proof that I must continue my fervent prayers for having an IKEA built in the metro.

Pour into mugs. Add the espresso or the coffee on top. Top with whipped cream and sprinkle with pumpkin pie spice, nutmeg, or cinnamon. I used nutmeg. Always use nutmeg.

And your cold, cold heart, will again... know warmth and gladness.

Back To Simplicity: Pumpkin Pie

2010-11-11T10:33:00.001-06:00

I live about two hours from my parents.

Two hours is far enough that we both have our own space. But thankfully close enough that we see each other on a fairly regular basis. And can babysit the dogs, when one or the other, leaves town.

Recently, I headed down there with the dogs in tow.

I'm flyin' along in my gas-guzzling SUV (Please, judge me. I do. Everyday.), cruise control set at 73 mph, radio blaring, cell-phone propped up for easy access, mentally ticking through my "to do" list that loomed frighteningly in front of me before we could leave for vacation... when I passed a horse drawn carriage, being guided by two Mennonite men.

Both men where wearing the traditional "plain" clothing; black hat, black pants, non-descript shirt and shoes. Their horses plodded along at an easy pace and I instinctively slowed my own vehicle in response to the apparent ease and pace of life, that was present around me. I was struck by my own need for noise and speed and doing. And I was a little envious.

As I continued to slow my speeding car, I clicked off the radio, put my silly phone away, and took a breath... a deep, slowing breath. And I gave God thanks, for little reminders that pass through our world... reminders of what simplicity and connection and "living out ones faith" might really mean.

As I passed these men, something caught my eye.

Two distinctive, white cords dangling from either side of the brim of his black hat. And his friend? All be darn, if he didn't have a cell phone up to his ear. A CELLPHONE! And EARBUDS!

So forget it. I apparently can't rely on anyone anymore.

Justin Timberlake can bring sexy back all he wants... I'M BRINGING SIMPLICITY BACK.

Here's what you'll need, for a simple Pumpkin Pie.

(Yeah. I can't lie. This picture is really about showing you my favorite Thanksgiving plates.)

3/4 Cup light brown sugar
1/8 Teaspoon salt
1 Teaspoon cinnamon
1 Teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 Teaspoon ground ginger (scant)
2 Eggs
2 1/4 Cups pumpkin puree
1 (12-ounce) Can evaporated milk

In small bowl, combine sugar, salt and spices. Beat eggs in a large bowl. Stir in pumpkin and evaporated milk. Pour into pie shell. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes. Reduce temperature to 350 and bake for 45 minutes or until firm.

This recipe is a little bit Libby's, a little bit Food Network, and a little bit Yum.

And Simple. So. Take that, Mennonites.

Ear Full Of Pumpkin: A Puree Recap Rap

2010-11-02T14:58:00.001-05:00

Here's a recap rap

For the fans with orange tans

In the south burbs of Kans-

Aaaaaa-city
Where the dogs are pretty

And the boys are fine

Where pumpkins are sorted

On a table, in a line

I've got my ice cream scoop

Come on, join the the loop

Cause it's time to gather

Around the oven l[a]ver

Set that sucker to three hundred fifty

Take off the stems, cause yeah, yo nifty

Cut 'em in half and scoop out the middle

The way it feels'll make you giggle

Be real, be hip

Find a sheet with a lip

And grab a cup or two of water

Say bye to your daughter
Give your partner a holler
Cause by the time you're done
This won't be fun,
I can guarantee ya

In the pan you will put
About a cup per cubic foot
Line the pumpkins up
Face down. (pause) Yup.

Throw them in the oven
Get yourself some lovin'
Call your cousin
Eat a cookie,
How about a half a dozen

Check on the pumpkins half way through
You've got problems, if they're blue
They oughta be deep orange in hue
And when they are, that's your cue

This process seems long
But it beats singing a song
Or even writing this rap
As a matter of fact

After 45 minutes to an hour
Muster within, your girly power
Pull the pan out with both hands
Wonder again, how you feel about Iran's

1930's name change from Persia,
Did it lack courage-ya?
Anyway, I digress
Let's get back to this pumpkin game of chess.

Using your will and a set of tongs
Flip each pumpkin over where it belongs
They'll be steamy and dreamy
and look just right,
But I assure you, they're so hot that they bite.

Let them sit on the counter to cool
while you start the next batch, like a big ol' fool.
The clock will keep ticking
But you did the picking

So with a smile and a knife
Remember fondly, your old life
And get back to work
As your husband smirks

When your pumpkins have cooled just a bit
Take each one and give it a lift
Squeeze out the goodness into a bowl
Yeah, that's right! Now you're on a roll!

Compost, recycle and throw away
Cause now it's time to play

Using a hand beater and a little fear

Beat that pumpkin, 'TILL IT'S IN YO EAR!

Now, if this rap is making you queasy

Just click here.

There. That was easy.

I apologize for this mess

But with a title like that

Hi. You had to have guessed.

All I Wanted: Pumpkin Enchiladas

2010-10-30T21:02:00.004-05:00

All I've wanted for the past three-ish months, was a family portrait with the two dogs, the bunny, Brett... and because I have to... me. You know the kind. Where everyone's wearing the same shirt and trendy jeans, and looks like they leapt out of a JCrew catalog?

That's all I wanted. I should have known, that when I use the words trendy and JCrew in the same sentence... things wouldn't go as planned.

I cut and tweezed and combed and primped... and when I got through with Brett, I threw on a little mascara and straightened my hair, and figured it was good enough. We grabbed a blanket, the camera, tripod, and our dignity, and headed outside.

This is what I got:

Easy distraction. And no Abby in sight.

Photographic evidence of Wyatt's desire to eat Shuffles. And no Abby in sight.

As well as inappropriate play times. And inappropriate licking. And inappropriate... how should I say this... exposure. And a hundred other photos of Brett calling after Abby, and me, barely making it into the photo, and Wyatt, licking himself... and licking Brett... and then licking the bunny...

We finally gave up. Actually, I gave up. After the 92nd time of trying to run, kneel down, look fabulous, and take a decent picture as the ten second timer mocked me... I was done.

So we did the whole, "arms-length, high-school cheerleader" photo.

Not quite JCrew. But then, neither are we.

Here's what you'll need for Spicy Pumpkin Enchiladas (from Martha Stewart, who is very JCrew, but adapted enough, to make it more me).

2-3 Cups shredded chicken
1/2 Cup chopped white onion
2 Cups pumpkin puree or 1 can pumpkin puree
4 Cloves garlic, minced
1/4 Teaspoon salt
1/4 Teaspoon black pepper
1 or 2 Jalapeno peppers, quartered
1 Teaspoon chili powder
1 1/2 Cups water
8-10 Corn tortillas (6-inch)
Vegetable oil
1-2 Cups grated sharp cheddar cheese

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. In a blender, puree pumpkin, garlic, jalapeno, chili powder, and water. Pour 1 cup of sauce in the bottom of a baking dish.

Heat a bit of oil and warm the tortillas (one at a time) on a griddle or pan, lightly coating each tortilla with oil. This will keep the tortilla pliable when you roll it. Mound chicken and onions on warmed tortilla, and roll; place, seam side down, in baking dish.

Sprinkle a little cheese on top, then pour remaining sauce over the whole thing; top generously with cheese (and this is why, we will never look like we leapt out of a JCrew catalog). Bake until cheese is golden and sauce is bubbling, 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool 5 minutes before serving.

They're not pretty, they're not fancy, and they're not trendy. But they're good and warm and filling. And that's really all you need. And all I want.

Well, It's Official...

2010-10-26T10:52:00.000-05:00

I have finally turned into an 80 year old woman.

I just made two bird feeders out of rotting pie pumpkins.

Next thing you know, I'll be crocheting koozies for your toilet paper and making lampshades out of egg cartons.

I need a job.

Telling It Like It Is: Pumpkin Butter

2010-10-25T11:00:00.002-05:00

I got back from retreat at our denominations Regional Camp and Conference Center a few days ago. Just me and the woods. And the 50 or so 3rd Graders from a nearby Montessori school that got to spend a long weekend away from home. In a cabin. Right next to mine.

One morning, as I sat outside enjoying my coffee, thankful for munchkin's eating breakfast, literally watching a family of deer leap through the forest... I heard a rustle. I'm excited. Could it be the groundhog that I ate dinner with, returning to greet me? A squirrel? A turtle? A band of woodland fairies?

Nope. Just a 3rd Grade boy, running as fast as he could, holding his crotch with both hands and yelling as loudly as his little underdeveloped voice would let him: "A SPIDER BIT MY PENIS!!"

I know I heard it. The folks in the neighboring town heard it. A friend of mine from Indianapolis called and asked me how the boy with the spider was doing. And in Boston, there was a 20-something woman, shuffling to her front door to grab the morning paper, who heard it. Sure it was muffled by then... and it came out sounding like "Fire and light in Venus." But still, the young woman nodded, and after the night she'd had, mumbled, "Tell me about it."

But I digress.

As quickly as the 3rd Grade boy emerged from the forest, he was gone. Hightailing it to his cabin to inspect the damage. I said a quick prayer for the unsuspecting male teacher, whose break, was about to be cut short.

Then gave the boy props for telling it like it is.

I guess if you're gonna say something, you might as well say exactly what you mean. Right?

In the midst of all the political volleying that is going on out there... the churches that keep functioning but are afraid to say anything... the visionaries that talk to empty rooms because they don't believe in themselves enough to invite others... the everyday people that say "I'm fine," when they really mean, "I'm tired" or "I'm sad" or "I hurt"...

I guess in the midst of all that, a little boy running through the forest holding his crotch and yelling about a spider that bit his penis... well, I guess it's almost refreshing. There's no second guessing. No critique. Or mulling. And my Mother The Biology Teacher, would be proud that the little guy called it by it's anatomically correct name.

So here's Pumpkin Butter. It doesn't try to be anything other than, what it is. Pumpkin.

What you'll need:

2 Cups pumpkin puree or one can (disappointed look)

3/4 Cup apple juice (but if you use the canned stuff, you might need to add a bit more)

1/2 Teaspoon ground ginger

1 1/2 Cups white sugar

2 Teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 Teaspoon ground nutmeg

Combine pumpkin, apple juice, spices, and sugar in a large saucepan; stir well and bring mixture to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes or until thickened. Stir frequently.

You might be able to can and store this butter... but given the low acidity of pumpkin, I'd be afraid to do so. Someone with canning prowess might be more inclined to give it a try, and if you do, and you don't spend a night or two in the hospital from food poisoning, let me know.

Enjoy it for what it is, and nothing more. Just sweet pumpkin and a few spices, in a jar. And may you find the courage to speak today... speak when it matters and say what you mean. Someone might only hear "A fighter's flying to Paris." But at least you'll know you tried.

There's One In Every Crowd

2010-10-23T15:35:00.007-05:00

For everyone's sake, I apologize for the 1980's leggings.

White after Labor Day, and all.

And my oral hygiene is lacking something.

But otherwise, isn't Brett's hiney cute?

One Alarm Pumpkin Soup

2010-10-19T09:22:00.026-05:00

Last night, at 2:30 in the morning, the smoke detector in our bedroom decided that it wanted us to know, that it's battery was dying.

Do they have to be so loud? Geeze.

I mumbled something along the lines of "What is that?" to Brett... knowing full well what it was and how to make it stop, but hoping that my feigned incoherency might propel him out of bed, and into the cold house in search of a ladder, while I stayed safely tucked under the blanket and comforter.

But partnership is a pain, 'cause then I felt obligated to at least get out of bed and stand around with my hand on my hip, like I was totally invested in the beeping box of madness.

Of course the step ladder that we keep upstairs wasn't tall enough. And the dining room chair downstairs was just tall enough that Brett felt obligated to make it work, but not quite tall enough to be safe.

After a good... I don't know... five, ten, thirty minutes of Chinese acrobatic moves, Brett was able to dislodge the battery... only to feel compelled to stand on the chair, in his sleepy stupor, investigating the battery, as if it might be able to tell him something about how Christine O'Donnell got into politics.

So, in my sleep deprived state, I give you One Alarm Pumpkin Soup. The jalapenos give you a nice little kick out of bed, but the cheese and pumpkin welcome you back, like a down comforter at 2:30 in the morning.

What you'll need:

A pumpkin about the size of your head (I used one that was a bit bigger and it took a lot to fill it. That could totally be turned into a really bad joke.) cut open like jack-o-lantern and scraped to remove the seeds and gunk

2 Cups cooked white or brown rice

1-2 Cups cubed cheese (I used about a cup of extra sharp cheddar, and a cup of gouda and smoked provolone combined)

2-3 Jalapenos, chopped

2-3 Cloves of minced garlic

1/4 Cup chopped chives

8-10 Sliced of bacon, cooked and chopped

1 Teaspoon minced thyme

Black pepper to taste

A hearty pinch of nutmeg

1 Cup heavy cream

Preheat your oven to 350*. Line a super sturdy baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside. Cut and gut your pumpkin.

In a bowl, combine the warm cooked rice, cheese, jalapenos, garlic, chives, cooked bacon, and spices. Stir to combine and stuff the pumpkin with the cheesy goodness. You'll wanna fill the pumpkin to the top, so you might find that you need to make one more cup of cooked rice. Top with the heavy cream. As you can see, this is not an exact science. So pour a little more cream on there, if it suits your fancy. Put the "handle" back on your pumpkin.

Place the filled pumpkin on the baking sheet and put it in the oven; let it cook for at least two hours. You want that pumpkin to almost turn a carmel color.

When it's done, let it sit for about 10 minutes, then transfer it to a fancy dish (or in my case, a cheep plate you've had since seminary). As you serve it, make sure your spoon scrapes a good portion of the tender, yummy pumpkin... and enjoy.

This is comfort food at its finest. Cheesy, carbohydrate laden goodness. A hearty "A+" from both of us!

No Spring Chickens

2010-10-17T16:28:00.027-05:00

Okay. I'm not gonna beat around the proverbial bush.

The folks at the church where my husband serves... well, they're not exactly spring chickens. In fact, I'd say the median age is probably somewhere around 75 years old. And yeah... I know...

You're only as old as you think you are...

Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional...

There's a twinkle, in your wrinkle...

I get it.

But when a semi-truck pulls in to the church parking lot, heaving with the weight of over one thousand pumpkins that need to be unloaded, one at a time... old is just old. The body wears out, the muscles aren't as strong as they once were, and the bones crack and pop like the Chicago Symphony's percussion section.

It's okay. It's not a judgement. It's just reality.

This is Ralph. He had his 84th Birthday a few months ago. Today in church, I asked him how he was feeling after unloading approximately 10,000 pounds of pumpkins, and he gave me a two-thumbs-up and a little nod-n-smile, as he audaciously said, "I feel great!"

Jerk.

I, on the other hand, spent a few hours serving as the official photographer, trying not to draw attention to myself, for fear that I might be recruited for the assembly line...

And making it a point instead, to draw attention to the slackers. I mean, come on. One tiny pumpkin at a time? Way to be aggressive.

But it wasn't long, before my stalling tricks were noticed, and I was urged to help carry a few of the larger pumpkins...

And then spent most of last night and part of this morning, realizing for the first time in my life, that there are several muscles in my back, that have never been used.

T.S. Elliot once said that, "the years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do more, and you are not yet decrepit enough to turn them down." I believe T.S. Elliot may have been wrong. 'Cause 30 something, is turning out to be a pain. In every sense of the word.

It's Almost Time...

2010-10-08T10:55:00.002-05:00

It's almost time...

...for October evenings spent de-stemming, chopping, baking, gutting, and pureeing pumpkins. Not one, not two... but multiple trash bags, filled to their breaking point... with tiny, perfect, pie pumpkins.
...for freezers that overflow with hope. And time spent cleaning up the containers that explode. And the magic act that is involved when you cram 30 cans worth of puree into an already full freezer.
...for chilly evenings made warm with the smells of nutmeg and ginger and cinnamon. And for eating my share of the pumpkin harvest.
...for buying pants that are a few sizes bigger than normal. And shirts.
...and for finding pumpkin puree under my cabinets and in my coffee maker and on top of my dogs head. And of course, in my ear.

Yep. It's almost time...

Summer Memory, Or Lack Thereof

2010-09-14T23:31:00.042-05:00

I went to Target today to find a pair of sunglasses. They're cheep, and I'm not careful.

A side story: Many moons ago, I owned the most expensive pair of sunglasses ever. These suckers cost more than any article of clothing, piece of jewelry, or pair of shoes in my closet. Foolishly, I wore them. To the St. Louis Zoo (a delightful, free zoo... if anyone has a need for last minute vacation ideas). Taking in the sites and enjoying my day, I casually leaned over the railing to look at the water feature many, many feet below. And proceeded to watch helplessly, as my sunglasses became part of the exhibit.

Anyway...

Picking out a pair of sunglasses is no easy task. There's much to consider: size, fit, weight, and bling. Not one to stray far from the blacks and browns, I gathered six pairs that struck my fancy, and started the posing and eliminating.

First pair: crooked.

Second pair: too bling-y.

Third pair: oh, I really like you!

Fourth pair: a definite contender.

Fifth pair: too big.

Sixth pair: too tight.

Back on with the Third pair: Yeah, no question... I really like you.

Forth pair: You're good, but I think I have to hand the win, to pair number three.

One by one, the eliminated sunglasses were placed back into their faux-nose sales racks, and in my hand, I had the pair that made me the most happy, that framed my face perfectly, and put a little spring in my step, which hadn't been before. The most perfect pair of sunglasses in the whoooole world.

So, of course it's tag was missing. This is Murphy's Law of shopping.

Several minutes and some pretty frantic spinning of the faux-nose displays... I came up empty handed. It would seem, that today was not the day, for me to purchase my sunglasses. Sadly, I placed the perfect pair of sunglasses back into its faux-nose sales rack and walked away. (Stopping only briefly, to grab a Snickers bar.)

A few minutes later, back in my car, the sun is shining brightly. I'm squinty and for one moment, I lament my lost purchase. Rummaging around in my cavernous bag/suitcase/purse, my hand comes up empty in its search for an alternate pair of sunglasses.

And then it hits me.

The perfect pair of sunglasses... pair number three... without the tag... that sadly, I had to leave behind...

Yep. Those were the sunglasses I walked in with.

Let's just say, I'm glad summer's over. And all reminders of the day I lost my mind, will be safely tucked in a drawer, until next Spring.

So, with the last of the summer harvest coming out of the garden, I give you my final jelly recipe.

Jalapeno Jelly

(Technically, jelly doesn't have bits/chunks... and this has bits. But I've never heard anyone call it Jalapeno Jam... so.)

What you'll need:

12 Jalapenos, seeded and finely chopped in the food processor
1 and 1/2 Cups cranberry juice (full on juice... no diet cranberry or juice mix)
1 Cup white vinegar
5 Cups sugar
1 Package of Ball pectin (I'm being a little specific here... because over the course of the summer, I've found that Certo pectin has not produced the kinds of results that I've wanted. No doubt, this is "chef-error" and for as many Ball devotes that there are out there, I'm sure there are just as many Certo lovers. But for this recipe, I'd suggest using Ball.)

Bring the jalapenos, cranberry juice, and vinegar to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and let it cook, covered, for about 10 minutes. Set aside two cups of the jalapeno/cranberry liquid/bits and pitch the rest. Return the two cups of liquid/bits to the pot and add all five cups of sugar. Stirring constantly, bring to a rolling boil. (You know the kind where you can't "stir it away.") Quickly add your pectin and bring the mess back up to a rolling boil. Boil for one minute.

Ladle into prepared jars and return filled jars to the canner. Boil jars for 10 minutes (starting your timer, once the water is back up to a full boil).

It's no Snickers bar... but VERY yummy! An easy A-/B+. Sweet, with just a hint of hot. Unforgettable! Or so I say...

Muffin Tops

2010-09-07T11:54:00.013-05:00

I've been going to the gym. For six weeks.

Real, bonafide, there's-an-hour-of-my-life-I'm-never-gettin-back, oh-good-now-I-can-eat-a-Snickers-bar, kind of exercise.

I've walked and jogged and lifted and rowed and squatted and sweated for SIX WHOLE WEEKS.

And I gained three pounds. GAINED.

My husband, on the other hand, looked at the treadmill the other day, and lost eight pounds.

Tell me... where's the justice, people?

So, I give up. Here's to Pear Butter Muffins. And muffin tops. Spilling out over the tops of my jeans. (Big ol' sigh.)

What you'll need:

1 3/4 cups ap flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 cup pear butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 Cup buttermilk

Raw sugar, to sprinkle

Preheat your oven to 325*. Combine your flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt together and set aside. In your mixer (or a large bowl) beat the butter and sugar together until it turns white. Add one egg and incorporate fully. Throw in the pear butter and vanilla and stir until combined. Take a big whiff. Images of being snowed in, and aw-shucks, not being able to make it to the gym, will dance joyously in your head.

Alternate adding flour and buttermilk until just combined. Put a hefty spoonful (3/4 full) of batter into lined muffin pans, sprinkle with raw sugar, and bake for about 20 minutes.

Mmmmmmmmmm.... really, really good. Sooooo much better, than walking on a treadmill. Trust me.

One Of Those Moments

2010-09-04T21:16:00.022-05:00

Do you ever have one of those moments -- as you stand in the kitchen on a Saturday morning, peeling, chopping, stirring, cursing, covering, pureeing, and rue-ing the day the pear was made -- when you wonder why you decided make pear butter?

Do you ever have one of those moments -- as your husband sits outside on a beautiful day, writing his sermon, sipping his coffee, drinking in the delightful morning that God hath made -- when you wonder how he got so darn lucky, to marry a girl like you?

Do you ever have one of those moments -- when you've already spent half your morning on a recipe -- and you realize you're missing one of the ingredients and suddenly, find yourself regretting the bad names you were calling your husband? Names like Pear Man and Cinnamon Boy and... Nut-meg (Oooooh, harsh).

I am having one of those moments, while making Carmeled Pear Butter.

What you'll need:

1/4 Cup apple juice
6 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice, divided
7 Pounds ripe pears
3 Cups (packed) golden brown sugar
1 Teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg

1/2 Teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 Teaspoon salt

Combine apple juice and 4 tablespoons lemon juice deep pot. Peel, core, and cut pears, 1 at a time, into 1/2- to 3/4-inch pieces; mix pears into juice mixture in pot as soon as pears are cut, to prevent browning. Cook over medium heat until pears release enough juice for mixture to boil, stirring frequently, about 15 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low; cover and simmer until pears are very tender, stirring every 3 minutes or so, for about 20 minutes (mixture will splatter). Remove pot from heat. Press pear mixture through fine plate of food mill into large bowl (which I did, but regret... next time I will use my blender). Return pear puree to pot. Add 2 tablespoons lemon juice, brown sugar, nutmeg, and 3/4 teaspoon coarse salt. Bring to boil over medium heat, stirring until sugar dissolves. Reduce heat to medium and simmer uncovered until pear butter thickens and is reduced to 8 cups, stirring every 3 minutes to prevent scorching, for about 1 hour (yeah... I know... it's sort of insane).

Ladle pear butter into 8 hot clean 1/2-pint glass canning jars, leaving 1/4-inch space at top of jars. Remove air bubbles. Wipe jar threads and rims with clean damp cloth. Cover with hot lids; apply screw bands. Process jars in pot of boiling water 10 minutes.

Ever wonder why those jars of fruit butter -- in that speciality shop, where everything is overpriced, but you must walk out with something because the whole darn store is so inspiring -- are outrageously expensive? I'll tell you why. Labor.

Whew-wee. This process took, from start to finish, almost four hours. And made our house smell like Fall.

It has a great flavor (though I don't really "get" the hints of carmel) but is a little runnier than I would have liked. My husband gives the Pear Butter a B+ and I'd probably give it a B-, if for no other reason than the consistency.

So, do you ever have one of those moments -- as the end of summer draws near, and you've done your part to can and store the harvest -- when you start to run out of room in your cupboard, and wish ol' Nut-meg would build you a pantry?

Expiration Dates Are Suggestions. Right?

2010-08-31T17:14:00.007-05:00

What has inspired me to make a cheesecake today... I'll never know.

My tummy's still a bit rocky from last night's dinner, as I spent a pretty good portion of the evening, "taking some alone time with my book," if you know what I mean.

Apparently, stuffed sole fillets that have been in the freezer for 8 months don't translate well, to the plate. So I boldly ignored the italicized wording on the side of the package that stated, "if frozen, consume within three months of purchase date." I figured that's a "guesstimate." But as it turns out... I figured wrong.

So a little soothing cheesecake couldn't hurt, right?!

Wrong.

Here's what you'll need:

To make the crust
1 Cup graham cracker crumbs
1/4 Cup sugar
1 Tablespoon butter, melted

And for the filling
2 eggs
12 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 cup peach jam, plus 1 cup

Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a medium size bowl, combine the graham cracker crumbs with the sugar and butter. Mix well and place in the bottom and sides of your lined cupcake pan. Make sure to press down with the back of a spoon or juice glass. Set crust aside.

Prepare the filling by beating the eggs and cream cheese together. Add the sugar and vanilla and continue beating until well blended. Add 1/4 cup peach jam and mix until incorporated. Pour mixture into prepared crust and bake for 35 to 40 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool for 10 minutes.

Remove cake from oven and top with remaining 1 cup peach jam. Cool to room temperature and then refrigerate overnight. Or until you can't stand it anymore.

These were mediocre, at best. C+ sort of average. Too sweet, too soft, and too gookey. Paula Deen sort of let me down. But at least they hadn't expired, and neither of us are worse off for having eaten them.

Eating Our Way Through the Iowa State Fair

2010-08-26T21:51:00.057-05:00

A few weekends back, the hubs and I drove up to the fine state of Iowa. Throughout our eight years of marriage, I have heard how great the Iowa State Fair is...

...how it's better than any other fair in the good ol' USA...

...how no fair can compare...

...how much bigger, prettier, and tastier the corn, the cows, the chickens, and the pigs are at the Iowa state fair...

...and how the only time my husband attended "the best fair in the whole world," he spent the majority of the 103* day, with his 11 year old head hung over a public toilet, praying that the "best toilet in the world" would suck him away and end his misery.

So when I mentioned to Brett that a little day trip across the border might be in order, I was excited to see how things would turn out!!!

To up the ante, we decided to eat our way through the Iowa State Fair... one deep fried treat at a time.

First things first... you can't go to a fair without gnawing on a footlong. Drenched in mustard. There is NO other way to eat a corndog, by the way... all the ketchup eaters out there, are just plain nuts.

Of course, we needed a side dish, right? So there you go: deepfried mac and cheese. Ohhhhh pitter patter. Be still my heart. Seriously. Be still. This deep fried goodness was a heart attack, in a little paper cup.

Midway through the day, we decided to offset the coronary disease we'd eaten for lunch, and try something healthy. We opted for the Applizza, drenched in caramel. The whole "apple a day" thing, is surely applicable here.

A boiled egg on a stick. Salmonella scare aside, it was tasty, free, and a very "Iowa" thing to do.

And... the deep fried Snickers.

Need I say more? I mean seriously. They took a Snickers bar, dipped that sucker in corndog batter, and DEEP FRIED IT!!!! Sigh.

Not pictured here, is the GInormous ice cream cone we shared, the multiple Domino's samples, jam samples, jerky samples, honey samples, beef samples, cracker sampl........

Oh yeah, and we saw the in-laws and a cousin too...

So, how did the fair, fare? Well... I suppose the "best little fair in the world" was all right! The cows did seem to stand a little taller and the sheep, "maaaah" a little louder. And goodness knows, the food was fried a little longer! But at the end of the day, I was just glad that Brett didn't take me down memory lane, to visit the "best little toilet in the world!" Some things, are left to the imagination.

With My Bare Hands

2010-08-04T14:55:00.025-05:00

I did that.

Yep... that tortilla chip of goodness was all from my own making. Planted, grown, harvested, chopped and eaten. All by me. With my bare hands.

I'm thinking that kind of attitude might have been one of the things that got Adam and Eve in trouble.

Eve was all like, "See that tree over there, that I watered all winter long... you know, the one with the wonderfully red fruit... I did that!"

And Adam's all like, "Oh yeah, well see that freshly baked pie with the homemade crust and intricate lattice work, sitting on the hut-sill? I, did that."

There was bickering and eye-rolling and Adam spent two nights sleeping on a rock...

And then God stepped in, saw that it was good... or at the very least, entertaining... and decided to make that, our plight in life.

Yes. I am aware that sometimes, I shouldn't write out what my mind is thinking.

What you'll need:
3-5 Tomatoes
3-4 Jalapenos
1 Small white onion
1 Hearty handful of cilantro
1 Dash of olive oil
2 Tablespoons of lime juice
Salt and pepper to taste

I use a variety of 'maters: some small and beefy like Danny DiVito (otherwise known as the Roma tomato). Others that are beautiful and all pink and white like Dakota Fanning before she went all vampire-ish (otherwise known as Pink Lady's). And I'll throw in at least one good and plump one like... well, me (again, also known as Better Boy). Chop them all up and mix them together. Then mince the jalapeno and onion. Tear off a hearty handful of cilantro and chop that up too (stems and all). Add a dash of olive oil (and I really mean, just a dash), the lime juice, seasonings, and mix the whole mess together. Let it sit in the fridge for up to four hours.

Sweat, love, and dirty fingernails managed to produce a "pico" hot enough to make you reconsider your love for dairy products. And for your significant other. Especially when he does all of the weed eating in the garden.

Again... you don't have to say a word.

We both give it a solid A-.

Eggs And Jam Don't Mix

2010-07-21T15:48:00.001-05:00

There are certain things in life, that just don't mix.

Like oil and water (though apparently, BP disagreed). Peanut butter and banana (yuck). Angelina and Billy Bob (what was she thinking). Or baked beans and my husband (they'll bring tears to your eyes... seriously).

But custard and jam? Yeah. Add them to the list. I'm just not sure that Emeril Lagasse knew what he was doing here.

If you wanna give it a whirl, here's what you'll need:

1 Pie crust (You can go to the trouble and make one yourself, or do the sensible thing, and have the Pillsbury doughboy do it for you.)
4 large eggs
1 Cup heavy cream
2 Cups half and half
3/4 cups sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
Pinch nutmeg
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Blueberry Jam (see recipe here)

Preheat the oven to 400*.

Bake until the crust is golden, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Reduce the oven temperature to 375*.

In a heavy saucepan combine the cream and half and half and heat until mixture just comes to a simmer, stirring occasionally. Whisk the eggs, sugar, salt, nutmeg, and vanilla together to combine. Add the hot milk mixture to the egg-sugar mixture and whisk briskly to blend.

Transfer custard mixture to the pie shell and bake until the custard is set but still slightly wobbly in the center, 40 to 45 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. When cool to the touch, store it in the fridge.

When you're ready, top with blueberry jam. Or don't. Either way, it's best at room-ish temperature.

I just wasn't taken by the egg and jam mixture. It's like my tastebuds didn't know what to focus on. I'd give this a C+ and Brett would give it a B. The custard itself, isn't bad, if you're into that sort of thing... but don't bother with the jam.

It's like toothpaste and orange juice (the worst). Or Brett Farve and retirement (eye-roll).

Peach Madness

2010-07-16T12:56:00.026-05:00

Have you tasted the peaches lately? Oh my goodness! Juicy and yummy and everything that's right with the world!

So we bought two boxes of these delightful specimens... and I decided to ruin them all, by trying to make jam with them.

This was my first real jam-failure, and I didn't take it so well. There was moaning, and tears, and the gnashing of teeth. Dramatic two-fisted-pounding on the countertops and fervent prayers to the jam gods.

And then Brett calmed himself down, and I figured out how to fix things, so that at the very least, the jam was edible.

Here's what you'll need for the recipe found in the Certo Pectin box:

4 Cups chopped peaches (which turns out to be about 10 peaches, pealed and pitted... or pitied, which is what I did when I finished)
1/4 Cup lemon juice
7 1/2 Cups sugar
1 Pouch Certo pectin

Combine all ingredients except the pectin, and bring to a full rolling boil; boil for 1 minute on high, stirring constantly. Add the pectin and return to a full boil, letting boil 1 minute, stirring constantly. Ladle into sterilized jars, leaving 1/8 inch headspace. Boil in the boiling canner for 10 minutes.

If you use this recipe, you'll find a jam so sweet, it'll make your mouth pucker and cause you're arms to flail about uncontrollably, as you work to swallow. It was awful. And the only thing I could think was "perfectly good peaches... sweet, tender, and juicy... and I ruined them."

There was no way I was gonna throw out that many peaches in their prime. So, I dumped all of my canned and sealed jam, back into the stock pot and started adding peaches. I added about 5 more (give or take a bit or two), with their skins still on, as well as another 3 Tablespoons of lemon juice, and brought the whole mess to a rolling boil. I boiled, stirring constantly, for about 15 minutes, to see if it would thicken up a bit (it didn't). Then, I ladled the jam into fresh, sterilized jars, leaving 1/4 inch headspace, and processed as normal.

The end result was a jam that tastes a LOT like the inside of a peach cobbler... which can't be all bad, right?! It's on the runny side (because of all the extra peaches and thus, peach juice that was added) but would be GREAT on top of ice cream. Taste-wise, me and the mister, give this an A.

Update: My Dad texted me this morning with a thumbs up as well!

Raspberry Heaven

2010-07-15T08:34:00.022-05:00

I decided to be "the best little pastor's wife in the world," and made mini-cheesecakes with raspberry jam, for the Elders meeting tonight at the church where my husband serves.

I'm not a great pastor's wife. I don't play the organ or sew or serve on the funeral reception committee or play with peoples babies or even find women's groups, particularly enjoyable. Instead, I play the drums and make inappropriate jokes and wonder why church casseroles always have to include cottage cheese. I encourage churches to hire nursery staff and would rather sit at home watching "So You Think You Can Dance."

Yeah. I'm not so good at the clergy-spouse bit.

So occasionally, I'll try to pocket some brownie points by baking treats for the Elders or the Board. I was inspired by The Pioneer Woman, Betty Crocker, and Martha Stewart for this recipe.

What you'll need:

For the crust
1 Cup pecans (finely crushed)
4 Cups vanilla wafers (finely crushed)
2/3 Stick butter

For the cheesecake
2 Packages cream cheese (softened)
1 Package low-fat cream cheese (softened)
1 Cup sugar
4 Eggs
1 Teaspoon vanilla extract
1 Teaspoon lemon extract
1/2 Cup low-fat sour cream

For the topping
Previously prepared raspberry jam

Preheat oven to 350*.

Melt the butter, add vanilla (stir together), then add your finely crushed pecans and wafers, stirring until coated. Put a good tablespoon of "crust" in each cupcake liner and using a juice glass, press down until it's good and "tight." (It sounds like I'm describing an exercise move. But then, we all know that's not possible, as I'd rather make cheesecake, than exercise.)

In your mixer or a large bowl, add the cream cheeses and the sugar and beat until creamy. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing until incorporated fully. Scrape everything down and throw in the sour cream, mixing well.

Pour cheesecake batter into prepared liners and fill 3/4 full. Bake for about 25 minutes or until the the tops of the cheesecakes juuuust begin to crack. Let them cool on the counter, still in the cupcake pans, for about 5 minutes. The middles will sink just a bit (and if anyone out there can tell me how to make this NOT happen, I'd appreciate it). While they cakes are still warm, spoon about a tablespoon of raspberry jam into the sink-hole. Let them cool completely on the counter and then store in the fridge for up to, two days.

You'll die when you eat these. And unlike yesterday, you'll be convinced you went to heaven. Perfect for this pastor's wife. Just don't expect me to host the reception.

A+ all around... husband, elders, and myself. Now if you'll excuse me, Alex is about to dance.

Raspberry Hell

2010-07-14T12:13:00.025-05:00

I woke up this morning, determined to work out.

I pounded some coffee, threw on a sports bra (casually throwing on a sports bra is no easy task, by the way... there's always quite a bit of wriggling and squirming involved... and if you're a woman, you understand what I'm talking about), bemoaned the fact that I NEVER refill the Brita pitcher when I empty it, and headed for the door with much resolve to end my exercise draught.

I opened the door to step out onto our porch... and I died. I also realized that I've apparently, lived a wretched, sinful life. Because it was HOT!!!

So God, if you're reading this... I'm sorry.

I turned around, seared the palm of my hand on the door knob, and returned to the relative comfort of my air conditioned home.

And made Raspberry Jam.

What you'll need:
2 Quarts raspberries (fresh is best, though I've been told you can use frozen berries, if it's all you've got)
1 Package powdered fruit pectin (they're in little 1.75 oz, brown packages)
7 Cups sugar
1 Tablespoon lemon juice

Crush all your berries until you've got five cups; if they're not totally crushed, fear not... raspberries seem to break down easily when they get rolling. Stir in the pectin and heat over high heat until mixture come to a full boil, stirring constantly. Add sugar all at once and return to a full boil. Boil for one minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Ladle into hot, sterilized jars, leaving 1/4 inch headspace. Process filled jars in the boiled water canner for 5 minutes.

I'd give this jam an A- and my husband would give it a solid B+ (he doesn't really like raspberry seeds).

Please the Lord today. Make this jam.

Sneaky Apricot

2010-07-11T13:22:00.014-05:00

Drooling yet? It's okay if you wanna come over. My house is clean.

Right this second.

So come now, or not at all. Cause seriously, within the next half hour or so, the place'll be a wreck again.

Yeah. Scratch that. It's already dirty.

Geeze. How do people do it, with children?

Anyway, I had to do SOMETHING with the Apricot Jam, right?!

Though to be fair, this jam would be divine on any sort of pork product you could find... a pulled pork sandwich with a tablespoon or two plopped on top? Used as a grilling sauce for your pork loin? A dip for your pork rinds, perhaps? Possibilities.

But I was craving Peach Cobbler last night. And when the cravings hit, you gotta hit back, right!?

This is a cobbler recipe that's been my Mother's staple for years (she usually uses Blackberries)... but it's not unique. Nope, not unique at all. But it is EASY.

Here's what you'll need:

1/2 Stick of butter (Go ahead and throw this in your large baking dish, pop it in the oven, and begin the preheat process. Set the oven at 375*. The butter will melt while you do the next bit.)

1 Cup ap flour
1 Cup sugar
3 Teaspoons baking powder
1/2 Cup milk
And mix all this together.

5-ish Peaches (Sliced thin with the skins on! I know... but trust me! The texture is wondrous.)
1/2 Cup sugar
1/2 Cup apricot jam (The flavor won't be obvious, but there'll be "something" different. You'll like it!)
1 Tablespoon lemon juice
Dash of cinnamon if it suits your fancy
Throw all this in a pan and bring to a boil.

Pull that baking dish outta the oven and pour the batter mixture in the bottom. Then carefully spoon your peach mixture on top of the batter. Put the whole thing in the oven and cook for about 35 minutes, or until the top is beautifully golden and when you tap the crust, it goes, "thunk." Then it's done.

OF COURSE, you must ignore the 2 cups of sugar and 1/2 a stick of butter... and top it with homemade ice cream. *quiver*

Both of us give this a big, fat A. Cause that's what we're beginning to look like. Big, fat "A's." Must. Stop. Ea... nom, nom, nom.

My Apricot Jam Plan

2010-07-10T09:09:00.017-05:00

So one of my favorite lines from Friends, comes after Monica makes loads of jam (her, "Get over my man, jam plan.") and Joey, obviously enjoying his third or fourth jar of jam says, "Remember when your mom used to drop you off at the movies with a jar of jam and a spoon?"

I figure if we had kids, they'd be singing a similar tune.

I made eight more jars of jam today. Dried Apricot Jam.

Here's what you'll need:

1 Pound dried apricots (chopped)
5 1/2 Cups water (divided
1/4 Cup lemon juice
5 Cups sugar

In 4 cups of water, let your chopped apricots soak and plump overnight. It's like a spa day, for your apricots.

In the morning, throw the whole bowl (water and plumped apricots) into your large pot and add the other 1 1/2 cups of water, as well as the lemon juice. Bring to a mighty boil and then lower the temperature to a simmer. Let simmer for 30 minutes stirring once at the 15 minute mark. Add all the sugar in a slow, steady stream while stirring non-stop. Bring it to a boil again, using high heat... and stir, stir, stir. Reduce the heat to medium-high and boil uncovered for 20 minutes, stirring every 3 minutes or so. Take the pot off the heat and mash any large chunks of apricot. I had some pretty big ones, so I threw them into the food processor. Return chunks to pot (Ugh, that just does not conjure up pleasant images... chunks in a pot. Bleah.) and bring the jam to a simmer again, stirring constantly for 10 minutes.

Ladle into sterilized jars with a 1/4 inch rim. Process in the boiled water canner for 10 minutes.

Husband and I, both give this jam a B+... it's not nearly as sweet as the blueberry jam, a little runny, and not quite as flavorful, but it's still pretty good. Hope you enjoy... and send some with the kids... maybe throw a loaf of bread in their packs on their way out the door. They'll appreciate it and you'll be the best parent ever. Or at least better than we would be.

Rock and Roll Cookies

2010-07-07T09:17:00.017-05:00

Lock your daughters in the house and pull out the earplugs... cause the Jam Cookies are in the house!!! Wooooo-whoooooo!

Grandma. Seriously. Put your shirt back on. No one wants to sign your bra.

Jam Cookies.

Get it? Rock and roll cooki... No? To much of a stretch?

Ooookey-dokey. Obviously, some jokes fall on deaf ears.

I've got quite a bit of seriously expensive jam in my house... so it's time to figure out how to use this stuff.

Enter exhibit A: Blueberry Jam Cookies (some folks 'round these parts, call these Thumbprint Cookies).

What you'll need:

2/3 Cup shortening (you can use butter, but they will spread a bit more)
1/3 Cup sugar
2 Egg yolks
1 Teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 Cups flour

Preheat your oven to 350*. Cream shortening and sugar until creamy. Add egg yolks, vanilla. Beat well. Gradually add flour, mixing well. Make into 1" balls. Press down centers with thumb and you can either fill these little rockers with jam now (which will make the jam slightly chewy) or wait until the cookies are done, pull them out of the oven, re-indent (not sure that's a word, but go with it) and then fill them with jam. This is what I did and I like it best that way... the jam warms up and starts to seep into the still-warm cookies. Either way, bake your cookies until they are slightly browned.

These are okay... B/B- kind of okay. Won't bring down the house or nothin'.

Visa's Got Nothin' On Me

2010-07-02T09:24:00.011-05:00

Canning supplies.
$49.99

Jars, rings, and seals.
$27.99

Six cups of blueberries.
$6.76

Pectin, sugar, and cinnamon.
$5.00

One kitchen towel that did NOT see the blueberry blood bath comin'.
$2.50

Bandaids and Neosporin to cover the unfortunate splatter burns on the tops of my feet.
$2.84

The perfect piece of toast with homemade blueberry jam.
Nauseatingly expensive.

Clippity clop, clip clop. Calculator. Tappity, tap, tap.

Yep. Each jar of jam has cost me $11.89.

Sigh.

Here's the recipe for the jam, found in the book aptly named, You Can Can. I've made a few adaptations, so I'll list it the way I made it, and you can look the original up yourself.

What you'll need to make Blueberry Jam:
6 Cups blueberries
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 Teaspoon cinnamon
7 Cups sugar
2 Foil pouches of liquid fruit pectin

Once the blueberries are clean and dry, do the blueberry mash with a potatoe masher or the back end of a spatula. Mash those suckers until there's about 4 1/2 cups. In a large stock pot combine the crushed berries, lemon juice, cinnamon, and sugar, stirring well. Continue to stir as you heat to a full boil. Stir in pectin then return to a full boil. (Side note: I find it helpful to open both packages of pectin before you begin and stand them up in a coffee mug, for easy access... that way, you never have to stop stirring all that sugar, ensuring that scorching doesn't occur.) Boil hard, for one minute.

Ladle at once, into hot sterilized jam jars, leaving a 1/4 inch headspace. Process filled jars in a boiling water canner for 5 minutes (start the timer, when the water returns to a boil). Remove jars and cool on a towel, on the counter. (Another side note: make sure you use a towel, because the temperature differences between the jar, and some countertops, can make the jars crack.)

This was GREAT jam! That little bit of cinnamon is the perfect addition! We both give it an A!

Sleep Deprived Blueberries

2010-06-30T20:22:00.011-05:00

Those blueberry plants I spoke of, produced (to date) twelve berries. They're tired... that little one, is just struggling to survive and the other one is wondering how weeds got to be as tall as he is, where the heck the pruning sheers are, and how come the to'maters get all the glory.

Okay. So we're not exactly Mo and Flo Farmer. We're city folk... we like the smell of exhaust in the morning. We like being able to reach out and touch our neighbors house. We like not knowing where our food comes from, dangit. *sigh*

Not really. We're just lazy and the weeds take over quicker the weed eater can keep up with them. (Yes. Brett took the weed eater to the garden. I know. You don't have to say a word.)

Anyway, I have big dreams for those plants... and their time will come. It will. But as I've said, I'm bound and determined to can, so we made an early morning trek to the the u-pick-it farm here in Northwest Missouri.

And see... this is why I take pictures. I honestly don't remember it looking this beautiful. Between some serious caffeine deprivation and trying to wield my picking-bucket, camera, kleenex, cellphone, and inhalers... I was a mess. Somebody should make something, that can easily carry all your necessities. You know, kind of like a bucket that hangs on your shoulder and thus, frees up ones hands, for other tasks. Huh.

We came home with about six cups of blueberries, ready to go to work!

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, I shall can!

And Now We Return To Your Regularly Scheduled Programming

2010-06-29T19:44:00.007-05:00

I mentioned several posts back (like, before I got sidetracked with my husband being in another country) that it was my desire, to can. The strawberries didn't exactly pan out, but the one berry that did appear, was freakishly pretty.

We divided it in fourths and each had a sample. And yes, by "we" I mean myself, my husband, and our two dogs. Shuffles (the bunny) doesn't like strawberries.

It was tasteless, and I lose interest pretty quickly.

So I moved on to blueberries.

Months ago we rescued a fledgling blueberry plant out of the belly of WalMart. I can't stand WalMart, so I don't even know why we were there... I think I went in for a musket and some toilet paper. Instead, I walked out, with the first season of Jersey Shore and a dying blueberry plant. Good times.

Then we got crazy and sprung for the high dollar bit, snagging this beauty.

And for my birthday, my dear sweet, ever encouraging husband... bought me this.

He has such faith in me, I can barely stand it. That, and he knows I need a hobby. Unemployment is not my friend, people. Nope. Not even a little bit.

So. Let the canning begin.

Belated Closure

2010-05-20T20:14:00.115-05:00

Belated. By almost two months. Please forgive me... I actually wrote most of what you see below, in late May. But a series of unrelated events (i.e. unemployment, MRSA, vacation, the oil companies) kept me away and "unawares." So here's some closure.
********************
Well, Brett arrived home safe and sound... tired, filled with gratitude, and having gained much perspective. Here are some pictures that he, and the team he was with, took throughout their stay...

Here's Brett, realizing that he wouldn't see his beautiful and delightful wife, for two whole weeks.

Or...

There's a slim chance he was thinking about something that didn't revolve around me. And was wondering how people drive in Haiti, and live to tell about it! And this is Toulise; the team's driver.

And these are the famous "tap-taps" that serve as public transportation, equivalent to a taxi. But like a taxi from Beetlejuice, with Tim Burton as the driver.

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Brett says that right away, you notice the smell. It's very dirty in Haiti. Not just by American- anti-bacterial-obsessed standards. But by health and wellbeing standards.

There's the obvious rubble-debris to contend with... that kind of dirty. Which is expected.

And then there's the trash kind of dirty. A result of a sanitation system that is broken... more so now, after the earthquake. But broken before it, as well.

And then there's the kind of dirty, that makes children sick with the trots for weeks at a time , and young mothers die from infection. It's the kind of dirty that lives in the waterways...with the feces and the household debris and the hogs... and it's where locals wash their clothes and their dishes and their hands...

*******************

Local residence. I prefer the blue one.

More local residence. The ones below, are built on the median, in the road. Yeah. You read that right... smack dab, in the middle of the road!!!

**********************

Brett and the team's translator, Frenaud (Frey-n0). This kid's special... like adoptable, kind of special. He's 19, speaks four languages, is finishing his last year of high school and plans/wants to become a doctor or a minister. He studies medical books written in French and English in his spare time! Seriously, someone sign me up to take credit for him!!!

*****************
The schools themselves, aren't bad. I trust the intentions of the teachers, the accredidation of the schools, and the religious organizations that run them... fully.

But...when you're child misses a few days of school from dehydration because they've spent the week on the toilet, they're gonna fall behind. But chances are, within a few days, they'll make up the work and carry on... healthy, healed, and mentally ready to learn. But if that happens three times a month, your child is gonna fall behind, get discouraged, and fail to learn the items necessary to move on.

Mix illness, with some children's need to provide income for the family, as well as a family system much different from our own... and you have an illiteracy rate of almost 50%.

BUT, one of the first institutions to be "up and running" following the quake, were the schools. I think this is indicitive of hope. And these children... they're the present AND the future of Haiti.

This is a group of school children at CONASPEH... the ministry and organization which partners with the Disciples of Christ and United Church of Christ... and oversees 6700 churches in Haiti while providing education and medical care for the locals. It's nice to know, that even in Haiti, the children are much more interested in what's going on in the playground, than what might be going on in the classroom! We have an elementary school near our house... and I swear, all they do is play outside. It's like, my good tax dollars are apparently paying for recess. Sheeze.

That's Karen (from Brett's church) in the middle, with the leaders of CONASPEH (mostly clergy who serve as the board of sorts) and the pastors wives. There are VERY few female clergy in Haiti... but you know, I figure, lets get over one hurdle at a time right?!

That grey rock you see behind the two girls? And that rubble on which, the other children are playing? Yeah, that's their old school. Imagine being reminded every day...

Ahh... finally, children pretending to learn. Or deciding which Jonas brother is the cutest. Oh wait.... scratch that. They're deciding which member of the Fugees is the coolest: Wyclef Jean or Pras. (I vote for Wyclef.) Or maybe their not old like me... and are squealing over Kompa. Whatev's.
********************
And then there are the orphanages.

Before you start singing tunes from Annie, let me make it clear, that the word orphanage does not mean what we imagine it to be.

There are literally hundreds, if not thousands, of these "orphanages" which are little more than, the local pastor, opening his doors. In many cases, these pastors can't even feed their own children, yet take on the care of other children whose parent(s) may or may not be alive. It's not unusual for a parent (usually a mother... some things sounds familiar) to drop their child off at these homes or churches, with nothing more than a cursory "I'll be back in a few weeks... I gotta take care of some things." Or I can't afford them right now. Or I have to care for another child right now. And it's not because they don't love their children. But becuase there is no other way.

And so, that's why, when the missionary group from Kansas took those "orphans" and were going to bring them to the United States... it was SUCH a big deal! These kids had parents, grandparents, brothers, and sisters! I trust those missionaries had good intentions... I really do. But it's sort of a case of "America knows best... we're big and powerful and surely, we have all the answers." I mean, no child in America ever goes parentless or hungry or fails to graduate. Nope. Not one.

The team had the opportunity to visit some of these orphanages... and give them dolls made by some of the ladies in the church where I served at the time.

This is one of the pastors and his family. It's kind of hard to notice, but the baby on the far right, has orange hair. This is a sign of malnutrition. Studies show that one in every three children in Haiti, is malnourished.

*********************
Local clinics provide medical grade peanut butter... but women and their babies can sit all day at a clinic, waiting to see a physician.

And most of the folks are there because of STD's. Unprotected sex is a real problem in Haiti... in part, due to the Catholic influence, but also just an overall lack of cause and effect understanding/education. And maybe some "bad intentions." Maybe.

I believe the exact words that Brett used when describing this doctor, were "slicker than snot on a salesman." Though I hate the imagery of "snot," I sort of get it. He's a fundraiser first. And a doctor second. With braces. He's the "maybe," the bad vibe. But where there were one or two "bad vibes," there were many more good and faithful people, trying to save the country that they love.

A look inside one of the clinics.

*********************

The local market. Where everything and anything is sold.

That's a wheelbarrow full of "spent" rebar that is headed to market. When I say "anything and everything," I mean it!
*************************

As you head up the mountain, and the air gets cooler and cleaner, you find the folks with "the money." Not like Hollywood/Brad Pitt money, but maybe more like Ozark, Missouri money. The mission team spent one day "up the mountain" visiting orphanages and finding reprieve from the suffocating heat.

From this vantage point... removed, safe, well cared for... Port au Prince looks gracefull, peaceful, hopeful. I pray they feel those things today. I pray their children know those things, deep in their souls. And I pray that we might be changed.

Bump Day on the Four Month Anniversary

2010-05-12T10:53:00.033-05:00

I've always hated that term, "hump day." It's always struck me as oddly vulgar. Just like my Mother can't stand (and refuses to shop at) Kum-N-Go. She's always like, "They couldn't add one more letter... it wouldn't have cost them that much more to make it 'Come'." I secretly agree with her, though the convenience factor of having a Kum-N-Go on every corner in their town, often outweighs how I might feel about the word... allowing me to justify breaking my solidarity-boycott, for the ease of a quick cup of coffee on the way out of town.

Brett is now, over the bump. He's on the home stretch... and tomorrow evening, he begins his journey home. First, to Port-a-Prince, then Miami, and eventually, KCMO. I thought I might share some photos. None of these are from Brett's camera... those will come later... but these come from a new blog, written by a young man from Canada (a friend of Brett's), called Marathon for Haiti.

I look forward to posting pictures showing progress... laughter, joy, dancing. I trust it is there... because the human spirit is shockingly resilient. But I think for now, it is important for us to remember the destruction, the devastation, the immense grief that blankets this area. Greater destruction than you and I will probably... prayerfully... ever know. Greater than Oklahoma, 9/11, or Katrina.... not because of the sheer numbers of lives lost or the magnitude of destruction, but because of the system... the system of abject poverty that was present before the quake, and will continue to be there, long after relief agencies have gathered their shoulder bags and headed back to London and Quebec and Lyon and Kansas City. Unless, you and I, and those who know no such systems of bondage, find a voice and an urging within our hearts, to empower change... seeded, root change. Not a band-aid....

I see glimmers of a soap box emerging. I'll stop writing for now... I promised pictures. *fingers crossed*

Today is May 12... Four months to the day, since Haiti experienced natures destructive powers. How will I respond?

Will convenience be my default?

A Mighty Mitre Tuesday

2010-05-11T09:10:00.000-05:00

Whew. This day is done.

It was the Bishop's annual visit today. (Thus, the "mitre" reference above... that's what you call the cool hat that he gets to wear, by the way. Why would you know that?) The whole sha-bang started at 6:30 this morning, with the source of all evil (apparently others call this an "alarm clock") going off... and ended at 11:30 tonight, with me falling somewhere near the bed.

I've been a little under the weather and my asthma's been acting up. You know how Asthma is... comin' in late without calling, drinkin' with his buddies Pneumonia and Influenza...

Well, by 9:30, all my meds started to wear off. I was coughin' and hackin' like any good 30-some-odd year old and went downstairs to find my inhalers.

As I came down the stairs, I could have sworn to you, that it was hazy and smokey down there. I walked from room to room, turning on all the lights, confirming that it was eerily foggy. I began touching the walls and sniffing the air. I even called a friend down, to check it out with me.

So... it's funny what lack of oxygen will do to the brain.

Suddenly, Johnny Weir looks straight and date-able. There are benefits to getting a Brazillion. And going back to re-live your Junior High days, sounds like a good idea.

And just so we're clear... this is what I looked like in Junior High.

Oh that hair. (And really, this pictures's not as bad as it got! I recall copious amounts of AquaNet being used. Yes, my generation is solely responsible for the depletion of the ozone.) Why didn't someone tell us?

As it turned out, no scrimey youth had been playing with matches and no ill-contented adult tried to burn my collection of coloring books.

It was just my head. Wanting to breath. And wanting to see Johnny Weir in a mitre.

Fear and Loving on a Monday

2010-05-10T10:35:00.025-05:00

My girl-dog's got some fear in her tonight. Last night a car backfired somewhere in Australia, and Abby stammered around for three hours, just sure that the world was ending. And then this morning, heaven help us all, it's stormy -- like thunder, lightening, potential for hail, kind of stormy -- and this really throws Abby for a loop. Looking for a place to hide, she climbed into the shower as I was opening the door to get in there myself...and she refused to get out! Awww man, was she ever mad when I turned that cold water on! I only wish I had had my camera in order to document the look of pure disdain on her little, puppy face!

So as I left for work, I drugged her up... Abby on drugs is brutal. She can't find her feet for the first two or three hours so all you can hear, is her falling up the steps or tripping over the dog bed as she paces around the house. My guess is, right now, she's riding out the storm in Brett's closet.

Fear is funny... it's controlling and manipulative and plays weird tricks on your brain. Fear keeps you stranded in a sea of "what-ifs" and "buts" and it weighs you down, so you trip over your own feet in an attempt to "just keep moving."

I can't help but wonder what "fear" is doing to the people of Haiti. Brett tells of children, who won't sleep inside, under their new roof, for fear of it collapsing... crying, despising, shivering, fear. He tells of hopeful parents, waiting for adoptions to come through... breathing, weeping, pacing, fear. He tells of patients waiting in clinic rooms... wondering, thinking, considering, fear.

I imagine the fear a mother feels, each time she sends her child to school and turns to comfort another, whose child did not come home that day... grateful, ashamed, survival, fear. I imagine fathers and brothers and husbands who fear letting their families starve, as they continue to struggle with abject poverty... shameful, tiresome, anxious, fear. I imagine church leaders trying to bring comfort to a torn flock, tearing at their own clothes from grief... grace-filled, sorrowful, sacrificial, fear.

I realize my fears are different. Privileged, white, middle-class, fear.

I guess we all have fears... safety of those we love, money, security, weather. Even the basics, like dark alleys and strangers with guns (apparently, I'm part of a 1940's film noir). Some even fear God. I'm not one of those.

At least not most days.

Sunday Confessional

2010-05-08T15:10:00.021-05:00

I owe my dog, Wyatt, a public apology. The other night, when I was accusing him of political volleying at 1:45 in the morning, he was actually looking out for me. While someone was taking a baseball bat to the mailboxes in our neighborhood -- including ours (though just barely, as you can see in the photo), he and the neighbor dog were trying to tell the vandal to, "stay the who-who away from my house buddy, cause I'll lick the pores off your face." And he would too. He'd lick those pores, clean off. Unless the vandal happened to bring a miniature poodle with him... or was wearing a funny hat... or roller skates. All these things really work Wyatt into a lather. Anyway, I'm sorry Wyatt.

I should probably apologize to my Mother as well. No card. No dinner or present or box of chocolates. No visit. Just a phone call, in the parking lot of Sam's. See, I'm simply proving my theory, that children aren't all they're cracked up to be. Seriously sorry, Mom. (And in no way, am I insinuating that you are a hippo. Really. I just think they're cute.)

And while I'm on a roll... I might as well apologize to my husband too. He's embarrassed by the snippets of emails that I posted on Saturday. When he's writing these emails, he's under a bit of pressure... one computer for 30 residents...which usually makes for quite a bit of toe-tapping going on behind him. And apparently this pressure makes it impossible to use spell check. That's a joke, by the way. Seriously, I understand. And I'm sorry. (If you were wondering, this is my sincere "I'm sorry" face. I'm lookin' a little rough around the edges... eyebrows all askew, hair on frizz patrol... What can I say? Been a long day of confessin' sins and savin' souls.)

Saturday Bits from Brett

2010-05-08T11:04:00.004-05:00

I thought as a week-ender, I'd share with you all (hi Dad!) some snippets of emails that I've received from Brett throughout the week. I'm going to apologize on his behalf for the overwhelming amount of typo's, misspelled words, and deplorable grammar (but leave it "as is" for the sake of integrity). And pray that Brett's 6th Grade English teacher doesn't happen upon this blog! Any pictures you see, are from beckyeleck.blogspot.com... she is a physician who is serving in Haiti, and a blessed soul.

Tuesday evening:

"We made it and with all of our luggage. Nicaragua hectic times 10. The place we are staying is really nice. We do have a public computer for our use so I should be able to send email daily. We spent most of the day driving around and wow... overwhelming... Unorganized chaos..."

"All in all I am so glad to be here. It really is hard to put into photos or words even the conditions here (also picturing them pre earthquake)..."

Wednesday morning:

"I don't remember the last time I was asleep by 8:30. All four of us guys are in a room with a bed, a fan and we actually have airconditioning at night. This guest house is great. There are about 30 people staying here from different teams. Kinda cool.Today we are meeting with the CONASPEH council of ministers. Patrick who runs CONASPEH and his wife Frances (fran suaah) he runs conaspeh and she runs the school. School has started and there were over 1000 kids there yesterday in tents set up as classrooms. All the kids in uniform. We drove in and it was neat to see these open side tents with kids learning. CONASPEH is hoping to work with Global Ministries to work it out so that the parents of these kids won't need to be responsible for paying for school until October. So anyway, today we will sit down with the council (which doesn't happen much I guess- pulling them in from the surrounding areas) to share with us their vision, dream, hope, need and where things are. Karen seems to have much credibility as far as being a catalyst for change and getting stuff done."

Wednesday evening:

"Today we had a really good meeting with the Conaspeh ministry council. Essentially much like a regional board or a not for profit board. A group of decision makers to back up the president and the decision making. And everything I said in my last email about how they feel towards Karen is more than true. They ALL consider her to be Haitian. She has earned their trust, love and respect- they really welcome her as one of their own and being with her, that hospitality extends to us.They talked at length about their frustrations with the President of Haiti and the law not listening to the people or having any care at all. That type of feeling extends to Global Ministries as well... "Before the earthquake, Global Ministries didn't seem to question what we do with the money we get and whatever we need is there. Now after the earthquake it is as though everybody wants to know why and seems to be coming with more expectations." (A brett paraphrase.)I did meet Pastor Jean. He is 27 and taught himself English. He translated for our meeting and seemed to relate to me as the youngest pastor on the american group. We exchanged emails and he will teach me Creole and maintain contact. Otherwise- it is hot and very muggy here. An afternoon nap might be in order... it is exhausting- still a bit overwhelming. Today was good and there is something scheduled for us every day. Off to a couple of Conaspeh clinics tomorrow that are connected with a couple of the churches."

Thursday evening:

"Today was a very interesting day. We drove the Karfu today, even closer to the epicenter. One of the churches has a clinic there. We took a suitcase full of meds for the clinic and were going to meet the dr. and actually bring him a year's worth of salary ($1,000) and see it work... The nurse was there, no english... Pastor Ramon was there he speaks some english- enough to get us by... The doctor wasn't there. 15 patients sitting and waiting.... we all sat and waited.... and waited..... WICKEY........ Finally Karen said, "Well Therrsa can we take blood pressure at least... She used to be a firefighter and Ken, Karen's son was a paramedic.... They said sure" Well the nurse had the sign in sheets with symptoms.... "

"...of the 31 cases at least a third were sexually transmitted disease. The other majority was high blood pressure... The second to last woman who came in ended our day with a cold reality, she had a mass under her breast... (I didn't see it, didn't have to. Ken and Therrsa... who handled it so professionally told me everything I needed by their response... All I heard Therrsa say was, you have to go to the hospital..." She won't, no transportation, must pay up front, no way she could afford it. We gave her Ibuprofen for the pain, said goodbye and the moment she left the three of us just looked at each other in a blank shared glance that summed up the sinking feeling we all felt."

Friday evening:

"Today was much more "seeing" than doing. Lots of driving. Very much about awareness, and probably seeing some of underlying motive of seeing so that financial support may follow.... But with that I am really seeing different areas and the devastation that just doesn't seem to stop. We haven't even been into City Solei (sp?) yet. We will worship at one of the churches there. Tomorrow we are off to Leonet (sp?) the longest drive yet, into an orphanage and another clinic. Should be a good trip, we are taking dolls and meds. Not sure if we will "do" anything at the clinics."

"Funny story of the day, in an attempt to stay hydrated I have been drinking lots of water in the morning especially before we go. Well by the time we got out to the Conaspeh location I had to pee. 10 minutes later when the plan was shared with all that were leaving for the clinic, (in two cars) I told Ron that I was going to the toilet... on my w back over the hill I see car number 1 pull out, then car number 2.... I started to laugh and walked over to Patrick the president of Conaspeh and simply waved, smiled at him and said Oh, oh.... His face got so long petrified "OH NO." He jumped up grabbed his phone and motioned for the security person run down the lane after them... everyone else was laughing around me, and I was laughing as I walked toward the van. Needless to say it has become our big joke fodder for the day both from me and at me. Everyone thought I was in the other vehicle..."

Friday Night in the Big City

2010-05-07T19:05:00.006-05:00

I know plastic shopping bags are scary. I do. They represent everything that is wrong with our society today... capitalism, materialism... and teabaggers would probably have us believe, socialism (but only if our President uses them). They are enemy's of the environment and bastions of evil, especially when they are floating around in your backyard. I get it. And I believe we should talk about these things and how we can be instruments of change... I really do.

But Wyatt, if you feel you must have this conversation with the neighbor dog, at 1:45 in the morning again, we are gonna have to throw down. And I promise... I will win.

Awwwww. I see you're tired this morning. WAKE UP!

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The splinter I went to bed with... is still in my finger. I know it doesn't sound like much... and perspective would tell me, that people have endured and lived through, much more. But it's on my ring finger, and it's surprising how often you rub that finger around. Like I said last night, only Brett will understand the severity of the situation.

There are lots of things that Brett endures (and does so, with grace)... scrapes and scratches, hard labor, heavy lifting, the "dogs" flatulence... a whole number of things. But Brett does not handle splinters. A splinter will bring the world to a halt.

This has never been more apparent to me, than the day we moved into our house (the one we live in now). We didn't have a speck of furniture... not even toilet paper. But I recall, we did have paint samples. And two spatulas left behind from the previous tenants.

Anyway, we'd ordered Chinese food from HyVee (ya know... cause the suburbs of Kansas City are known for their ethnic food) and we're sitting on the steps of our deck, Chinese food spread out, paper napkins in our laps...when I got the mother of all splinters. I mean, that sucker was a good inch long (not an exaggeration) and was actually causing me to bleed. With deliberate calmness, I turned to Brett and said something like, "Aw man, I just got the mother of all splinters."

What Brett actually heard was, "For the love of all that is Holy, get it out! Get it out! I'm near death!"

Before I know it, without a word, he sprints into the house and begins ransacking (the EMPTY house): Paint chips are scattered and spatulas are flying. I think at one point, he threw the air mattress out the window... Later, I would be informed that he was looking for tweezers.

Meanwhile, I'm outside... putting lids on the food, gathering up the paper napkins and plastic utensils that had been tossed aside, bagging up the leftovers... all the while, thinking "What a jerk. Leaving me out here to clean up the mess when I've got a log sticking out of my hand." And when I entered the house, I said something to that effect.

His response, "I thought you were right behind me! There's a time to clean up the dinner dishes and then there's a time to take care of a splinter." *still wrought with exasperation*

Well. Next time I'll know.

I realize this story has nothing to do with what I've done today (which was the purpose of these journal-days) but it's just to say... that I wish Brett was here, to take care of my splinter. Cause this is one of those times.

Good Works on a Thursday

2010-05-06T11:10:00.030-05:00

My husband may be in Haiti, distributing medicine to the sick, shoes to small children... providing grief care to the hurting and helping rebuild destroyed schools... all while establishing meaningful relationships with people who need to know that the world still cares...

But I just finished watching DVR'd episodes of Project Runway, America's Next Top Model, and New Adventures of Old Christine. All before 11:00 in the morning.

I don't know... ya know. I just feel really good about what I've done today...

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I considered making rice crispy treats this afternoon. Got as far as pulling the marshmallows and rice crispies down from the cupboards, when I decided it was too much trouble. So instead, I took a marshmallow and handful of rice crispies and stuffed them into my mouth at the same time.

In case you're wondering... it's not even close to the same thing.

But I could be the new poster child for American ingenuity. Or laziness. One or the other.

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This evening, I went to dinner with Teresa and Jane. They're members of Brett's church... and members of Brett's church, tend to assume that I'm pining away, listening to sappy love songs, crying over terrible romantic comedies, and forgetting to eat... all from loneliness, while Brett is away.

This is soooo not the case. Never once, in my entire life, have I forgotten to eat.

My best friend in high school would forget to eat when she was depressed, heartbroken, or sad. Which, of course, pretty much sums up the teenage years, right. So ya know, she was teeny tiny... always saying things like, "Ugh. I just don't know what to do about Josh. I haven't eaten in days." I used to PRAY for heartache so sever, that it would leave me forgetful and satiated. But alas, though I knew heartache (the dramatic, world-is-gonna-end, teenage kind of heartache)...not once, did I find solace in an empty cupboard.

None the less, I no longer correct people when they assume that I'm sad that Brett's gone. I figure it's usually good for a meal or two. (Totally a joke! I swear!)

So this is Teresa and Jane. Two beautiful women:

And then I got into the picture, and ruined everything:

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I'm going to bed tonight with a splinter in my finger. Only Brett will appreciate the significance and severity of that sentence.

Wednesday Preaches

2010-05-05T16:56:00.011-05:00

This is my view, from where I sit, in my office. That framed poster has been in every office I've ever had, and it's always in plain sight.

I tend to do a lot of staring. Is that bad? I mean, what else am I supposed to do during the week? Everybody knows, ministers only work on Sunday's.

Maybe I should call it praying. Tomato/tomata?

Either way, I'm struck by the fact that Brett's in a country where he doesn't speak the language... can't understand the language... and yet is preaching the language of the Gospel. A language of hope, fullness, love, and justice. Without the need for words.

Well done, dear. Well done.

Now if only he'd figure out how to do the "no words needed" thing, at home.
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It's funny that I should have started my morning, pondering the lack of words necessary, in order to do ministry, properly.

It's funny, because I've just ended my night, sharing with someone else... someone who doesn't know me, but has a list of questions, a pen, and an agenda... why I might be the best minister for their "job." In one hour, I had to tell them all the best bits of my life... articulate the successes, the joys, the pats-on-the-back, the don't-you-wanna-hire-me-cause-surely-I'm-perfect, bits. It shouldn't have been so hard. I am nearly perfect. But whew-nelly, am I exhausted.