Thursday, April 2, 2015

The God of Spring


The day the Lord created hope
was probably the same day He created Spring.
-Bernard Williams



Spring is so reassuring to me this year. 

Undoubtedly, change is coming to the nations. Big changes are coming to our doorstep. Although I'm not a news reporter anymore, I'm still a news junkie. But it doesn't take a news junkie or an acclaimed economist or an ivy league rocket scientist to tell us that change is in the air for our beloved country.

That's why I'm so grateful God made Spring. It's His reminder that He makes all things new. That He is the God of life.

So let's make our lemon cakes, even in times of turmoil. Let's raise our families and work our jobs and sing our songs and wash our dishes with a steadying hope that the God of Spring is on His throne.

Let the earth rejoice and hope, even still! 

Happy Spring.  -Brin

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Biscuits and Success


Put your heart, mind and soul
into even your smallest acts.
This is the secret of success.
-Swami Sivananda 

I've had so much stirring around in my mind lately. Big thoughts. Scatty thoughts. Important thoughts. Heavy thoughts. I think them as I go about my day- folding laundry, paying bills, making biscuits.

What about you? Thinking thoughts lately?

A collapse in oil prices and massive cuts in the industry have suddenly freed my time. (I should be used to it by now, after 2008 and all, shouldn't I?) Over the weekend, a friend told me I should take the time to write a book.

I wouldn't know where to start, I said.

What kind of book would you write?, he asked.

No idea, I responded. Not a clue. How do you even successfully write a book?

I've considered that question several times since I asked it. How do you even successfully write a book? As I was making biscuits, the answer came to me: how do you successfully do anything? How do you successfully make biscuits? Pay bills? Fold laundry? How do we successfully tackle that project, that goal, that dream? We throw ourselves in and at the end, there are our biscuits, our bills, our balled-up socks, our triumphs.

Time to put in our heart, mind, and souls, y'all. Let's start with probably the best homemade biscuits ever.

Brin's Biscuits 
Recipe adapted from several in print

Ingredients
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 stick salted butter
3/4 cups milk (I use 2% or whole)

Directions

Preheat oven to 425 F.

Mix together:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

To those dry ingredients, add:
1 stick salted butter, very cold, cut with knife into random-sized pieces

Using a pastry cutter (or two knives, if you have time for that), cut butter into dry ingredients until it looks somewhat incorporated. I usually have a few butter pieces about the size of uneven marbles visible in my dough. That's fine.

To that, add a very full 3/4 cup of cold milk. (Most of the time I add an extra little splash.) Mix until dry ingredients are incorporated. Stir dough into a ball shape and turn out onto lightly floured counter.

Knead dough like 3 times to get it smooth- five seconds, max- and roll or pat until dough is 1- 1 1/2 inches thick. Cut into 7-8 biscuits. (If you like thinner biscuits, feel free to roll thinly and cut 10 or more. We like ours layered and fluffy, so I cut them thick.)

Bake at 425 F on middle rack for 15-20 minutes- depending on your oven- until lightly golden on top. I bake these on my Pampered Chef stone, and strongly recommend one for all baked goods!

Serve warm. Can be frozen baked or unbaked. Yay! Homemade biscuits!

Important:
1. Don't use too much flour. Under fill your measuring cup as opposed to heaping it over the top.
2. Use butter. Just do. Margarine, Crisco, or vegan "butters" won't help in this recipe. Use unsalted if you must, but don't come looking for me if your biscuits are funky. wink emoticon
3. If you bake these on cookie sheets, the butter content may cause them to brown quickly on the bottom. Beg, borrow or buy a pizza/baking stone. You'll never regret it.
4. Depending on what you use to cut your biscuits (cutter, glass, knife, etc.), you may end up with a different number. That's okay. Just don't roll them too thin and they'll be awesome.
5. Use COLD butter and milk. Super cold. Don't get them out and let them hang out on the counter all morning. This is what gives you those flaky layers!

Time to see some success, right? Enjoy the best biscuits ever! -Brin

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Dreaming Again...

The house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer,
the house allows one to dream in peace.
-Gaston Bachelard

It's happened again,  you guys. I have fallen in love. 

Meet the Whitaker House, a circa 1890s mansion that looks as if it could be the setting for one of my favorite girlhood books, The Velvet Room:

I took my Mom to meet her over the weekend.  This is all I have ever wanted, I breathed, hand wrapping around the iron garden gate that, seemingly by magic, creaked open. I took it as an invitation. Wouldn't you? We creeped inside the brick and iron wall and just stared at the old place.

It was for sale but now it isn't. Apparently a local optometrist purchased it from the estate of an out of town doctor, but there's no word on what the eye guy intends to do with the place.

I intend to find every dollar I possibly can and pray, wish and hope beyond hope that one day the phone will ring and it will be a gruff-sounding voice on the other end saying, So, I heard you were interested in the old Whitaker place....

Not interested. Enthralled, is a better word. Utterly smitten and completely in love.

It's time to find a place to dream in peace again....

Friday, February 6, 2015

E-n-d-o-c-r-i-n-o-l-o-g-i-s-t and the Woman Subject to Bleeding and Me and Jesus



Danged if we weren't just rocking along and working and planting seeds and keeping house and minding our pet project when suddenly everything went red again.

Blood red. *shudder*

See, over the past year I've been diagnosed with a bleeding disorder. One day I'll be fine, and the next I begin bleeding out. I get anemic. My blood pressure tanks. I have no energy and do crazy things. Things like:

Me: Yes, I'm here to pay my rent. 
Rent office lady: Address?
Me: 304 Butler Street.
Rent office lady: ...typing...
Rent office lady: You said Butler Street?
Me: Yes.
Rent office lady: 304?
Me: Yes ma'am.
Rent office lady: 304 Butler Street? Are you sure?
Me: Pretty sure. Yes.
Rent office lady: ...typing again... It's just that we don't have any properties at that address. You're sure you're on Butler Street?
Me: ... ...
Rent office lady: Give me your name and I'll look it up that way.
Me: Okay. Brin  __________.
Rent office lady: Oh. Brin? I have you at a different address.
Me: What?
Rent office lady: Yes. I have you at __________________.
Me: ... ... 
Me: ...Oh. Crap it. I'm really sorry. Yes, that's the right address. 304 Butler is an old address. I'm... sorry.
Rent office lady: (weird look). Okay. I'll take that.
Me: (hands over rent check)

I cannot be trusted to handle even simple tasks like paying rent quickly when I'm in the midst of a bleed-out-athon.

So Monday, my doctor took one look at a picture I emailed to the office and said I needed to see an endocrinologist immediately. I had to look it up. E-n-d-o-c-r-i-n-o-l-o-g-i-s-t? Sounded like a bug scientist, but of course that's an e-n-t-o-m-o-l-o-g-i-s-t. Let's get our en-ologists straight, shall we? Because being sent to an insect scientist was about all I needed to make my life story complete.

So Tuesday, I was in Dallas/Fort Worth in the office of one of the most renowned endocrinologists in the U.S. Yes. In one day. God arranged that. The endocrinologist is fantastic. I liked her so much that I kinda wanted to ask if I could have a sleep-over at her house, that way when I got scared in the bathroom she would be there and could tell me in her cool and funny medicalspeak why I wasn't going to die and how women with this are totally fine and treatable. (But thank God I didn't ask. I've creeped out enough people with my bleed brain for one week.)

I got a shot that spiked my blood pressure up above 164/110+. Then I got prescribed four medications. The warning label on my favorite one says: Adverse reactions...may include constipation, diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, dark stools and severe abdominal pain, hard word, hard word, hard word, metabolic acidosis, hard word, dehydration, drowsiness, pallor, hard word, lassitude, seizures, shock and coma. 

That's my favorite. I take that one at night after dinner.

So Thursday, I was sent back to the hospital and then the lab for four more tests that involved x-rays and drinking dye and lying completely still for two hours and getting my blood drawn four times in two days and so on. Endocrinologists mean business, people. 

We're hoping for word today (but likely next week) on why in the world my body is trying to empty itself of all my blood. Until then, I'm as busy as I can manage, and I'm wearing pajama pants every single moment I possibly can.

I'm also reading Luke 8 (above) over and over. I almost have it memorized. Love how the woman bled for 12 years and although no one could help her (and the account in Mark says she was getting worse), Jesus did. He could. He did. And since He went to the trouble to put it in the Bible, I almost feel like every time I read it, He's saying that He can do it again.

So today, come walk over by me, Jesus. Let me grab at the hem of your coat. Let me tell you my old addresses and ask you for a sleep-over and tell you how disgusting drinking that red stuff is and how I don't need a bug scientist, just you.

All I really need is you. 

Friday, January 23, 2015

In the Beeginning

Women made the best beekeepers 'cause they have a
special ability built into them to love creatures that sting. 
-Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

First off: 

1. Judge not my yard lest your yard be judged. Ahem.
And 2. I start beekeeping classes tomorrow!

Y'all. I've wanted to have bees and learn how to keep a hive for days and days and days. At first it was a fleeting fancy. Then it was a mild curiosity. Then it was a can-I-actually-do-this? Now it's almost a reality. I start classes tomorrow, finish my top bar hive in February, and hopefully get my bee colony buzzing by spring.

I'm such a nerd. An excited bee-almost-keeper nerd!

I'm nervous about starting classes tomorrow. Having already read stories about hives becoming Africanized (it's a term. Look it up.) and swarming their keepers, I'm cautiously optimistic. Will they swarm? Chase small children and dogs into bodies of water? Sting me until I'm unrecognizable? Actually produce enough honey for us to eat? I plan to raise my hand and earnestly ask each of these questions, carefully copying the answers into my bee notebook, without seeming like a total bee nerd noob.

Right. Wish me luck!

Anyone out there a beekeeper? If so, please say hello. Please.
UPDATE: Upon posting, I almost immediately got word from cool Kyle that the term is "bee-ks". Heck yeah! I'm hoping they let me in their club...

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Strawberries and Onions and Everything's Going to Be Okay

What good is the warmth of summer, 
without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
-John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley

I've been watching Foyle's War on Netflix sometimes. Days when it's not too heavy. The show is a British production set just as WWII is winding down, as food is still scarce and everyone's nerves are frayed. A recent episode showed the characters, amidst the chaos of war aftermath, being absolutely thrilled at the discovery of a large onion. An onion. They passed it around, smelling it...marveling... and the way they looked at that fresh onion was heartrending. Who would have thought an onion would invoke so much awe?

Guess it takes no onions to appreciate an onion again. Guess it takes winter for us to appreciate summer. After all, cold and gray days like today do make pictures of my summer strawberries look that much sweeter.

I continue to hear from ladies across the country who are going through hard times. Hard times. Lay offs and health issues and economic concerns have us all concerned and a little frayed at the edges. Personally, as a girl who makes a living in the oil and gas industry, this time is worrisome for me. I haven't been paid in 41 days and our freezer is emptying out by the day. Last night I got a little emotional about it. A friend reminded me that God will see us through... He's working a plan... and didn't we have everything we needed for today? 

This morning, I opened the freezer and found a small bag of homegrown strawberries wedged at the back. For some reason, I felt grateful for it all. I felt like I needed to rejoice, especially today. These times of not running to the store at every craving or new recipe has me discovering those sweet, forgotten strawberries. I mean, what good are times of plenty without times of want to make them sweeter? Would we have good, sweet memories if we didn't also have unpleasant ones?

If it takes these times to appreciate the other ones, I'll take it all. God is good. I'm sure of it. He is on His throne, He has not forsaken us, and a we have a glorious, sweet hope. Everything's going to be okay.

P.S. Check out these depression era recipes. Aren't they fascinating?

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

How I'm Growing Months of Potatoes for $3.99

I hope every American who possibly can 
will grow a victory garden this year. 
We found out last year that even the small gardens helped.
The total harvest from victory gardens was tremendous. 
It made the difference between scarcity and abundance. 

A few weeks ago, my local grocery store had 15 pounds of potatoes on sale for $3.99. You better believe a bag of those taters came home with me. But even after taking a meal to a couple who just had a baby and throwing potatoes in every soup pot I've made, the suckers were still sprouting faster than I could use them.

Perfect! I love it.

Did you know that when your potatoes- even normal ones, from the grocery store- begin to go wonky, you can thickly peel or slice them and use them as seed?

You can. You can grow months worth of potatoes from a $3.99 bag from the store. Really.

Let's be real: times are getting tough. And they're going to get tougher. This year I feel... I don't know... weighty conviction, almost, to plant all I can, put up all I can, and get ready to be generous. This would be loads easier if I had a farm, or even some land, but right now we're in a two bedroom house with an average size back yard and a landlord who doesn't want us to put in raised beds. In other words, we're resigned to using flower beds for now. Point? If I can do this, maybe you can, too. 

We can totally do this.

Okay. First, I'm going to take my sprouting potato and I'm going to cut it into chunks with at least two "eyes", or two buds that will start the growth of a new potato plant, on each piece. Some folks say not to do more than one or two, since the resulting vines could make a tangled mess and choke each other as they compete for nutrients. And then other people plant whole potatoes and are happy with that. I say at least two eyes is good, but I don't freak if there's more.

Some gardeners get really technical with this cutting and talk about invisible stems and tuber size and humidity and blah blah. Not me. I grab a knife and slice like a crazy person in a horror movie. My only rule? Cut big chunks about the size of my thumb, give or take. It's worked in the past.

Yesterday as I was cutting these, there were some potatoes that were mostly sprouting on one side. I simply peeled the other side and we ate them in soup last night. Once I was done slicing my sprouted taters, here's what I had:

Oh yeah. 

Since I was at the end of the sack of potatoes, I put my sprouting chunks- cut side up- on a paper lunch bag, and then put the paper bag on top of the original plastic potato sack. Then I moved it to an open, airy corner of the kitchen and let the chunks hang out for at least 24 hours. This process is called chitting- the cutting and hanging out period in a potato's life before it is planted and begins to produce.

I could draw so many parallels to that and real life but I won't today. Moving on...

(Again, depending on who you ask, there's a correct length of time to chit potatoes. The lady who runs our downtown community garden swears by cutting potatoes and planting them that instant. I watched in amazement last year as she cut a potato in half and then dropped each piece into the soil right then. And you know what? They got a decent potato crop! I like to err on the side of drying my potato pieces at least a day, though.)


After a day or two, my cut potato chunks have dried enough to plant. Yes, I know it's crazy early to be planting potatoes, but I live in Texas. It was 67 degrees yesterday. For the rest of the known world, you'll want to wait until it's dry and warm, about a week after the last frost.


And into the ground they go! You'll notice all the organic material in my soil there. I am a HUGE proponent of the Back to Eden style of gardening, and I have heavily mulched these beds the past two years. I can sink a spade about 10 inches down into the soil and it's rich and alive and gorgeous. In fact, let me show you. Here's a back bed that was NOT mulched Back to Eden style. (Note how sandy the soil is. I can barely dig into it with a shovel, it's such hard ground.)

And here's the "flower"bed with that gorgeous soil, now planted with potatoes, mulched in wood chips and spent tomato vines and Maggie's head:


World of difference!

Anyway. I'll continue planting potatoes through March, but I'm happy to have these in the ground now. Several months worth of potatoes from a $3.99 bag at the store that we also ate from? Yes please!

It's time for a victory garden revival.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Garden Dreaming

Growing your own food is like
printing your own money.
-Ron Finley

I don't know about you, but I'm ready to start printing.

Do you garden? What are you thinking of planting this year? I'm doing onions, cabbage, and potatoes again, along with peas and beans, tomatoes, green veggies and cucumbers. Maybe corn. Is it time to start seeds yet? I'm ready... I'm so ready.... 

I've been watching Urban Farming Guys videos lately and thinking of our town. We have a community garden that grows vegetables for the local homeless shelter, the food pantry and veterans. My family helped out a little last year, mainly with prepping the garden and planting. My Dad brought his tractor out and got the garden ready for spring. He's cool like that.

But an urban farming movement? That's impossibly cool. Sign me up. One garden is never enough!

Wonder how much help we could be to each other if everyone who could, planted?

Excuse me. Sorry. Just garden dreaming out loud... 


Friday, January 9, 2015

Quiet January Life


Make it your goal to live a quiet life, 
minding your own business and working with your hands...
-1 Thessalonians 4:11

In keeping with the whole "quiet life" thing, the plan this weekend is to make soup, knit, read, look through seed catalogs for flowers to grow this spring, and stay warm. It's the best time of year to take things slow and steady, isn't it?

Have a warm and blessed weekend. -Brin

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Mountains, Light, Heart Blinds and Rising Up


Mountains
know the secrets
we need to learn.
That it might take time,
it might be hard
but if you just
hold on
long enough
you will find the strength 
to rise up. 
-Tyler Knott Gregson 

 

Happy new year, you!

Two things I'm already taken with in 2015: Tyler Knott Gregson's poetry, and this bread- Fast and Fabulous French Bread. Early this morning, as the sun leaked through the window blinds, I read bits of Chasers of the Light and smeared butter on my homemade bread and, in that moment, felt joy leaking through my heart blinds.

Heart blinds are a thing, in case you didn't know. They're the cheap, fiddly screens we find over our hearts when we realize, suddenly, one day, that it's darker in ourselves than it need be. That we've let fear or doubt or the dullness of life leak into our spirit and- day after day, slat after slat- hang a barrier between us and the Light that's all around us. Mountains do know the secret. Bread knows it, too: that time and endurance can raise the ordinary to extraordinary heights, if only we persevere until we find ourselves lifted up.

This new year, my prayer is that we continue to chase the Light. That we don't give up. That we keep on and keep on and keep on until we rise up, out of our shadows... out of our fear... out of our doubt, and onto the mountain top.

We'll do this, this year. See you there.  -Brin

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Christmas Greetings

Christmas is the day 
that holds all time together.
-Alexander Smith

Merry Christmas, you. Happy, bright, cozy, warm Christmas to you.
 
This Christmas, I'm praying for joy in the midst of sorrow... hope in the midst of fear... plenty in the midst of want...

...and peace in the midst of trouble.

May the One who holds us all together keep you until we talk again. 

Love- Brin

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Updated: A Letter at Christmas


I got a comment today. No, actually, we got a comment today. You and I did. We got a comment on the Christmas Candy post from a dear lady. I read it before I even got out of bed this morning and it took the breath right out of my lungs. While I'm writing a response to her, please read her letter/comment. And please, let's love this woman and pray for her together.

Here are her words. Click her letter to enlarge.



Dear "broken",

First things first, it's going to be okay. You are going to be okay. Things may not look better today, and they may not tomorrow, but you are going to survive this. Beautiful lady, you can do hard things.

You mentioned in a follow-up comment that you feel you have no right to the feelings you shared above. After all, aren't people throughout the earth living unspeakable horrors? Let me stop you right there. You are completely justified in feeling everything that you are feeling. Feeling broken... sad... hurt... overwhelmed... empty... at the brink... these are very real emotions. God you gave you your emotions. He gave them to you for a reason. Please don't minimize what you're feeling just because someone somewhere else has it "worse". You have every right to feel exactly how you feel today. Please give yourself that.

In 2009, I went to the office of a trusted counselor and pastor. I dumped my enormous heart-load of grief over losing my beloved Freeman House, my Jeep, my bakery business... and then seeing death take someone I loved... at this person's feet. And then I did the same thing you are. I apologized. I felt guilty. I said, "Who am I to whine and cry when women are being held as sex slaves? When women are struggling to feed their near-starved children? I hate myself for crying over my sad little first-world grief.". 

And I'll never forget with this man said. He looked at me for a moment, searching my face, and then leaned forward. "Hey. Wait a minute," he said. "Forget for a moment about them. Forget about people you see on the news. Look at your life. Is this an extremely difficult time for you?" 

"Yes," I whispered.

"The hardest time you've lived through?" he asked.

"Definitely. Yes," I answered.

"Then that's all that matters. For you, for your life, this is as hard as it's been. This is the biggest, all-encompassing difficulty you've faced. These are your hard times. No wonder you feel as you do. You can't compare your grief with someone else's. You can't grade your emotions based on some cosmic sliding scale. Emotions don't need to be justified. Your heart doesn't work that way. This is the hardest blow it's taken, and that's all that matters. It's okay. Really, it's okay."

I say the same to you.

No one knows exactly what you're going through... exactly what today involves... but you. Well, you and God. But my gosh, I swear that I understand that empty, God-less feeling you described. I remember feeling so raw... so open... and so devastated that the loving God of heaven seemed so far when I wanted someone most. The only thing that comforted my mind- not even my heart, really, but my brain- was that Jesus knew what I was feeling. That He hung, raw... open... and seemingly devastated that His loving Father of heaven seemed to be fading out of the picture when He wanted Him most. My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me? Now I'm not Jesus, and my suffering could in no way be compared to His, but I borrowed His words anyway and took some solace in the realization that, just as He did for Jesus, God had a plan for me.

He has one for you, too.

Why does it involve cleaning your proverbial slate? Removing jobs, cars, comfort, home, and people you love? I don't know. Why is He allowing it all at once? No clue. I can say, though, that it was some of the same for me... that sudden, Job-like devastation... like a life tornado that ripped away everything. I don't know why He allows that to fall in some of our lives... except that He sees all, knows all, and is working it all for good for us. Blech. That's the last thing you want to hear in the middle of the tornado- when everything's whirling- but it's truth. It will all come right, some day or night.

I'm glad you commented. I'm so, so glad you did. Because now I know your name. Because now, because you shared your story, I see that God is still in the business of working in lives in dramatic ways and that I am not alone in my story. But mostly, I'm glad you commented because now I can pray for you- pray hard for you- and pester God about you and your situation and your devastated heart. And when you can't pray, I can. When you have no words for Him, I'll have plenty. When you can't complain, I'll complain. When you don't have the faith to trust that God will hold you during this time, I will. I will stand in the gap with and for you, G, until He gives you a crown of beauty for your ashes and a beautiful dress of praise for your old pajamas of despair

Please know you're not alone. Please know God hasn't left you. And please know that even in your despair, your beautiful heart is testifying to the courage, strength and might God has placed in you. You are going to be okay.


"Let the one who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the LORD and rely on their God." Hold on, my heart. Hold on, hold out.

-Brin

Monday, December 8, 2014

Christmas CrockPot Candy Recipe

I couldn't go on and on about this deliciousness and not post a recipe again, right? Where's the Christmas fun in that? So please, take this recipe and run to the store and then home to your crockpot. 

For more information (including tons of comments and other tips!), see the original post about this candy here. Happy candy makin' and eatin'!

Christmas Crockpot Candy. Yes.

 Y'all. I made Christmas Crockpot Candy this weekend. Oh my. Y'all. Oh my.

Just looking at these pictures makes my mouth water. Is it time for lunch yet? I want to go home and sneak a piece now....

What are you doing tonight? I'm planning to sit in front of the tree and continue addressing Christmas cards while drinking foamy, marshmallow-y hot chocolate and chowing down on this candy. Y'all. Do yourself a Christmas favor and make this ASAP.

It's Christmastime! Can you believe it?


Monday, December 1, 2014

December Already?!

It's December already, folks. December! Already! Can you believe it?

How was your Thanksgiving? Our Thanksgiving was a blur of blessings. Family, food, friends... it was crazy. I would give anything to be able to take Monday (today) off. That I-need-a-vacation-after-my-vacation thing, you know? Ah well. I'm grateful I have a job to go to!

Sunday afternoon, I was determined to get a great picture of Millie and Maggie for Christmas cards. A great one. Like, minted.com great. Well. Um. Ahem. No. Didn't happen. Millie rolled on the ground until her hat came off. Twice. Maggie's Santa hat either slid down onto her back or covered her head so well that once glance had you asking: What is that thing underneath that hat? Ha. In the end, I got this picture and decided to go with it. Merry Christmas, Christmas card people.

Pet photographers, you have my deepest admiration. 

My goodness, y'all. Can you believe it's December already?


Wednesday, November 19, 2014

It's Okay Again

I am amazed by the effect of lighting candles and serving dinner at the end of a long day. No matter how tired, frazzled, frustrated or overwhelmed a person is, a hot meal and time at a candle lit table seems to set things right, if only for a moment.

In an effort to get out of debt and buy a ramshackle house with a big porch, I am doubling down on our finances. This means I am working overtime trying to get super affordable, no-nonsense homemade meals on our table every night. (Super affordable because.... hello. And no-nonsense because the old guy does not do pumpkin ravioli or roasted butternut squash thingies, no matter how hard I try. Ahem.) I'm learning that as long as I treat meat as an ingredient- not the star of the show- I can stretch our meal budget much farther... and not hear him in the kitchen two hours later fishing crackers out of the cabinet. Oh yeah. I got this.

Last night I made Cheesy Ham and Scalloped Potatoes in the crock pot. Turkey ham ran $4.50 at the store, and I used half of it. By making my own soup/sauce and using the ends of random cheese in the fridge, I figured this cost about $8 to make four large servings. Very large servings. Although I wouldn't call this health food, I would call it It's-30-degrees-outside-and-this-was-warm-and-cheap-and-filling-and-the-crock-pot-did-it! food. 

To avoid the gray, Campbell's blob in a can, I made my own cream of mushroom. Yay! Creamed soup is okay again! Usually I use fresh mushrooms, but today I used canned organic ones like these in water. Fraction of the price, and comes with mushroom "broth". Takes just a few minutes and we control the ingredients. Win! Try it if you have the time or inclination:

Love this. Especially since every good holiday recipe has cream of something in it. Green bean casserole, anyone? 

I tell you: we girls at home are powerful. We put the home in a house. We turn straw into gold. (Or stuff in the fridge into dinner.) We are amazing. Let's light our candles and fire up our crock pots and show the world that family, home and love are alive and well and matter.

We got this, girls.  -Brin


Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Friday, November 7, 2014

Thoughts and Hands


My thoughts are on Thanksgiving- family, hymns, a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, the turkey, blessings, and pies. But my hands are a whole other story. 

My hands are on Christmas.

I'm making ornaments for the nieces. Knitted things for friends and relatives. Crafts for loved ones....
 
...And a small Christmas quilt for us. I pieced it while still at Freeman House but never got around to finishing it. Don't you think it's time?

I love November.

 

Thursday, November 6, 2014

The Canfest of 2014


I think I just picked my last tomatoes of the year. And my last strawberry. It is November. Thank ya, Texas.

Know what I've discovered in the last year? That we eat a LOT of tomatoes. It's astonishing. From raw in salads and on tacos and sandwiches, to stewed in chili and soups, to crushed in goulash, pasta sauce and salsa- we know how to massacre a tomato crop.

Which is all fine and good. Except by August, I was so sick of canning tomatoes that I started freezing them. Then our small freezer got so full that we went and bought a chest freezer. Now IT is so full that I'm giving frozen quarts of stewed tomatoes away and I've gone back to canning them.

What an incredible problem blessing to have, right?


I can remember writing Proverbs 14:23 as a handwriting exercise in second grade: All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty. Today I would write: All hard work brings lots of tomatoes, but mere talk leads only to paying $2/can at the store so I guess it's worth it if you don't go crazy first.

Good thing I didn't write the Bible.


If you're interested, a how-to for the best stewed tomatoes on the planet is here. Heck yes.

Monday, November 3, 2014

Monday Moment: Hard Won, Not Bought


Stores have beautiful roses. Markets have gorgeous tomatoes. But I usually grow my own-- roses and tomatoes. I grow them because I like gardening, even if it is hard work. Year after year, there I am, planting, weeding, staking, pruning, and watering.

Some things are sweeter- better- when you've gone through something for them, I think. 

Maybe truths work the same way.

I read Streams in the Desert nearly every day. This morning there's a beautiful reflection on how truths, values and character come into our lives. They are not "blown randomly across our path by wayward winds", Mrs. Charles Cowman writes, "for great souls experience great sorrows:

Great truths are dearly bought, the common truths,
Such as we give and take from day to day,
Come in the common walk of easy life,
Blown by the careless wind across our way.

Great truths are greatly won, not found by chance,
Nor wafted on the breath of summer dream;
But grasped in the great struggle of our soul,
Hard buffeting with adverse wind and stream.

But in the day of conflict, fear and grief,
When the strong hand of God, put forth in might,
Plows up the subsoil of our stagnant heart,
And brings the imprisoned truth seed to the light.

Wrung from the troubled spirit in hard hours
Of weakness, solitude, and times of pain,
Truth springs like harvest from the well-plowed field,
And our soul feels it has not wept in vain."

My oft-plowed heart field has seen truth after truth spring up: that God is good, even when I doubt it the most. That we are perfectly loved, even when we feel it the least. That the places where we've lost hope are simply the places where we're believing a lie. And that we will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of living.

The common, "group think" in life comes easy. Let's be the people who live by truths.

Let's keep planting our tomatoes and fighting thorns for our roses.