The End of a Season

Forget the actual calendar date, it's safe to say that in my little world, it's officially Fall now. As many of you know I started my first (real) garden this year; a hodge-podge little thing that I didn't initially have very high expectations of turned into a full-on mecca for squash and tomatoes. I'm sad to say I didn't preserve nearly as many tomatoes as my over-ambitious heart had set on, but I've got plenty in my freezer and a counter full of green tomatoes to experiment with.

True to form, this little experiment has driven me to (you guessed it) yet another ambitious goal of providing my own produce for the year from my garden/local farms. I don't think I can adequately describe how much peace it brings my heart to work in my garden and, through that labor or love, if I can provide something good for my family, it just makes my heart all the happier.

Experiencing the joys of harvesting food from the seeds I've sown has also brought a whole new dimension of closeness to the Lord for me; not only is my garden a place where I can block out the 826 things that would otherwise be occupying my mind, but I always find myself both praising the Lord for the work He's done in my garden and really genuinely feeling in His presence. Now that I've taken the final harvest from my humble little garden, I'll admit I'm experiencing some pangs of loss--regret that I didn't plant more, grow more. I'm also going through withdrawals since our Farmer's Market has already had it's last day.

How will I ever survive the winter? It's frozen vegetables for me. After reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver I feel an amazing amount of contempt/guilt/disgust (with myself) when purchasing produce from the grocery store; not only am I not supporting local businesses, I'm eating fruits and veggies that have had to make the trek from places like Mexico, South America and occasionally New Zealand. That's a lot of fuel for a few tomatoes that have been bred to hold up to rough travel with their thick skins and pale, mealy interiors. Don't even get me started on bananas or the fact that I can't stop eating them. (My overly ambitious side is looking into a banana tree...seriously)

Anyway, this year I'm making the choice to weather the winter with frozen veggies because their taste and texture is already compromised anyway, but the nutritional value is higher. Vegetables and fruits that are frozen (in most cases) are allowed to ripen on the plant and are then flash frozen. Fresh produce is picked before it has reached it's full ripeness and is intended to ripen in transit, depriving it of nutrients it would have otherwise had remaining on the plant.

I don't know why God has put it on my heart to be so consumed by what foods I put in my family's bodies, but it's an obsession. I hope it's one that will produce fruitful (pun intended) results--that I will be able to bless my family and friends with food that will nourish their bodies in the best way possible.

I'll let you know next August, when I'm covered in tomato guts, whether I really think this is a good idea.

An Update

Geesh! I'm almost embarrassed to start a new blog post. There's a lot to report and there are many things I've been wanting to blog about, but anyone who's had a video chat with me in recent history may understand why it may be difficult to find the time to sit down and devote some time to updates.

I'm living with a two year old who has been very distinctly Two lately. She yelled at me yesterday morning: "I'm not being dramatic!" Maybe I should revise that age to 13...

Bailey is a whopping heap of TROUBLE. But who didn't see that one coming? She's more and more mobile every day and that translates into being all up in everyone's business. I can't fold laundry without feeling like I'm wrestling a midget these days. Not that I needed yet another hurdle in the laundry folding saga.

Add to that, having an event planned every weekday morning for at least the next two months and I'm starting to question the sanity of cutting back on my caffeine intake. It ain't pretty, folks!

Anyway, I thought I'd do a quick recap of what's been going on 'round these here parts and post a few pictures as photographic evidence.

First of all, about a million and a half years ago, we tore down the wall between the dining room and the kitchen. Can I get an Amen!

Then the girls and I tagged along with John on a business trip to Seattle. We went out on the town while John was stuck in a conference and rode the ferries. I cannot put into words how happy this made Audrey; it's probably one of the best days I've had since becoming a Mama.


After the conference was over, we headed to Kap and Jeff's for the weekend. The girls tested out Oliver's new room and got to spend some great quality time with their Aunt and Uncle. They even kicked John and I out of the house for an evening so we could go on a date!


In the mean time, Audrey has started attending a homeschooling preschool co-op. My friend Brittany teaches the kids and I volunteer to keep the babies entertained during lessons. This is Bailey's best buddy Pax; they like to shriek at each other and occasionally wrestle over toys.


In between all this I've also been planning a lot of events...mostly for MOPS. NONE of those events even rivaled how fun it was to plan and host Kathryn's Mad Hatter Tea Party-Baby Shower.


And if my words can't convince you, just take it from these two goons; it was a grand time!


Next up was our annual trip to Leavenworth, WA where we saw lots of great musicians, ate phenomenal German food and learned that our last name means "wandering spear hunter". I mean, can a weekend get much better than that?

Maybe if you follow it up with a trip to the pumpkin patch! Audrey had so much fun this year at Country Mercantile picking out her pumpkin and enjoying the festivities, she's been bursting at the seams to tell anyone who'll listen about the 'pumpkin place!'

And if all that didn't entertain you, here are some naked babies to make you laugh. The girls have started taking baths together and it is a riot!

The Good Life

I do have a longer post in the works, but first I want to express how wonderful it was to wake up this morning with nothing on the agenda, to make bacon and pancakes while Pa played with the girls downstairs, later to listen to Audrey talk about how 'nummy' her pancakes were while trying to shove cheerios in her sister's mouth, and to watch Audrey put her boots on the wrong feet and dance around in her nightgown to The Sound of Music soundtrack. Life is good. I am blessed. God is great. That is all.

The Return

I've returned hale and whole from my Women's Retreat in Deer Lake, WA. It was beautiful; there were evergreens and fog and rain and food I didn't have to cook. There were no bedtimes and no alarm clocks, even hot chocolate that came out of a dispenser. Heavenly!

This is what I thought sleeping through the night would feel like. It turns out it's not that much different from waking up with a baby. I just ended up remembering my dreams a lot more vividly and that's not really such a boon since almost all of my dreams are food related. (i.e. I dreamed I ate a hamburger and then I woke up. Boring.)

It was good to rest, though. I've been so busy lately it has felt like an impossible feat to just sit and rest and simply exist apart from the chaos. I'm usually really good at being able to distance myself from the hysteria that is so inherent in motherhood, but it just wasn't coming to me; God knew I needed a break--a real one.

So He sent me to see my trees and to commune with some really fantastic women. God is good!

Coming home was a wonderful feeling; this was the first significant time I'd spent away from Audrey and Bailey and it was so strange to see how much they'd changed in a mere 48 hours. Bailey was much squirmier and talkative than I had remembered and Audrey seemed so much smarter, like she had everything figured out. I guess that's pretty accurate. Her newest phrases are: 'I have a question', 'I need to tell you something' and 'Bailey getting in trouble?'.

It's good to be home!

Run away! Run away!

Or should I say: Retreat!!

For some reason, when cornered by our MOPS coordinator last Spring and asked if I wanted a position on the steering committee, I replied 'yes'. Why? Why would I do that? I was living in a happy state of irresponsibility where I could choose to devote an entire day to cheese making and eating cereal for lunch if I so pleased. Now I have meetings and emails and phone calls and events to plan and people to arm wrestle. It's exhausting. Who needs pregnancy? This stuff is wearing me out.

Monday was our first MOPS meeting of the year and I'm in charge of making sure there are enough volunteers to watch all 598 children we didn't know were showing up. Add in a little anarchy and some Lord of the Flies situations and it makes for a hectic morning.

Did I mention I was also hosting Bunco that night? No? That wore me out too.

Luckily, the next morning my friend Jackie brought me Starbucks and sat around my kitchen helping me make paper lanterns out of balloons and tissue paper (don't ask) while I neglected all the other household chores that needed to be done.

Today I got to take a nap. And Karen and Elizabeth made dinner so I didn't have to.

Things are looking up. Which is why I almost feel bad ducking out for our church's women's retreat this weekend. We're staying at a retreat center just outside of Spokane for Friday and Saturday night.

That's right--I get to sleep through the night. Two. nights. in. a. row. Praise the Lord! Hallelujah! Amen.

I'm hoping I'll be able to take the time that's being given to me and to treasure it just long enough to start missing my girls and that wacky husband of mine like crazy. I mean, really--what use is sleeping through the night if your favorite space heater is two hours away?

Happy Thoughts

Well folks, I'm back from the sourdough wars...I fought the good fight and was thwarted by a rookie mistake at the first turn. I won't even go into details except to say that my compost heap is now growing by leaps and bounds...and my sourdough starter? My beautiful mature sourdough starter? It is no longer with us. I'd like to take a moment of silence to mourn the 8 days I fed and babied that puppy.

But never mind about that! Let's talk about something happy!

How about magic?

Or better yet, how about my newest love?


My unpaper towel dispenser from Made In The Red Barn on Etsy! It's beautiful, it's made from upcycled wood and it makes my crunchy heart sing! I didn't even know what upcycled wood was until I stumbled across this beauty, but my heart went 'a pitter patterin' and I knew it was love.

I was so excited when it came in the mail (Did I mention the sellers live in WA?) I opened that box with uncontained giddiness...to have everyone in the house give me some version of Audrey's "whats 'sat?" "Huh?"

To her credit, Karen at least tried to give me some enthusiasm, but it's probably because I opened the box in her presence. I imagine it's like trying to get excited about your Aunt Bertha giving you socks for Christmas.

Actually, I get excited about receiving socks as gifts so that's probably a bad analogy.

Maybe Aunt Bertha's socks smell like moth balls.

Moving on!
To my original point: baking. I am not the world's best baker-maker as I had originally assumed. Does that mean I will stop trying? Heck no! Until I'm there, I'll continue to support our local bakery from the farmer's market. The owner and I had a long talk Friday about sourdough. He suggested I come work the night shift for a week or so just to get my technique down. I passed. I'm awake enough at night as it is.

All recent baking catastrophes aside, I did have some mild success with making my own burger buns yesterday. This recipe is absolutely phenomenal. All I have to really work on is getting my second rise perfected; it's all about timing. And I'm guessing my burger buns went from perfection to rising out the yin yang about the time I was attacked by two small children and pinned to the floor in a wrestling match.


Life happens.

Glutton For Punishment?

Or just gluttony? I can't decide.

Either way I've decided that I must secretly be a master baker (I just made the title up. Roll with me here.) and thus, I would be morally remiss if I were to spend one more day without providing my family with a never-ending supply of delicious homemade breads of every variety. Now, I say 'secretly' because to the untrained eye I would appear to be an abysmal failure as a bread maker...baker...baker-maker. For example, my latest attempts at whole wheat sandwich bread wound up here:


Yes, under the eggshells...and asparagus cast-offs; that's where that lump of doughy confectionery delight landed. I hope the fungus and bacteria in my compost heap enjoy it; I spent hours in the kitchen first with giddy delight, then peevishness and finally belligerent rage trying to craft that yeast and flour into a masterpiece. I know I can bake bread! Would someone please relay this message to the insolent doughy loaves that refuse to proof for a second time? If they do not comply I will be forced to bring in a bread machine. Nobody wants that.

Luckily, I've had some time to cool down and in true Willian fashion have decided to press forward and ambitiously master the art of sourdough bread. Which means I had to implement this little puppy:


My first ever sourdough starter. Now, from all I've read there are a million different ways to fail at making sourdough bread and the dough is known to be especially finicky. Why did I decide to wrestle with this particular culinary monster? Because I am as bull headed as that Butter-Haired Dragon and masochistically enjoy taking the hard road.

Usually I fail.

But at least I can pat myself on the back for failing at the hardest task.
So, here I go! Tomorrow this glob of yeast and milk and flour will be transformed into the best sourdough bread these taste buds have seen.


...or perhaps they'll make a nice crouton.

Film at Eleven.