Chili Recipe

So, a friend of mine asked my advice about his chili recipe a week or so ago. I thought that I'd post my run-of-the-mill chili recipe here, both for him to reference in the future, and for the sake of sharing with all of you. (Keep in mind that I use as many organic ingredients as possible. This means that spices don't have fillers, etc. I've tried to make notes where I think this will affect others.) I hope you enjoy it!

INGREDIENTS
1 to 2 teaspoons olive or canola oil
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 green pepper, diced (You can use canned, diced green chilies in a pinch too.)
1 lb. ground turkey (You can use ground beef, but will have to drain the fat, when cooked.)
2 15 ounce cans chili beans with liquid (I use a low-salt bean blend of dark red kidney beans, pinto beans, and black beans.)
1 15 ounce can tomato sauce (If you like tomatoes, use diced tomatoes instead. I'm pleasing picky eaters.)
1 6 ounce can tomato paste
2 to 3 teaspoons pure chili powder (If yours is conventional or a blend, use 2 to 3 tablespoons instead.)
1 teaspoon cumin
1-2 tablespoons sugar (to cut the acid of the tomatoes)
8 drops Tabasco hot sauce
2 teaspoons salt (or to taste- depending upon the saltiness of your canned beans)
10 grinds of black pepper

DIRECTIONS
1. Sauté the onions, garlic, and peppers in the oil until translucent.
2. Add the meat and brown, breaking into small pieces until thoroughly cooked.
3. Add tomatoes, beans, and seasonings. Stir thoroughly and simmer.
4. Season to taste.

For more variety, sauté in bacon drippings or use an italian sausage instead of the turkey/beef. Serve with shredded cheese, diced onions, or sour cream/plain low fat yogurt. We like to eat this with corn bread on the side. I'll post that recipe some other day.

Small Town

We live a couple of miles from a small town.  It's the county seat, the biggest town in the county, but it only has a population of a little over 2,000.  It is a quintessentially small midwestern town. 

Here's a prime example of what I mean. Yesterday the UPS delivery man stopped into the little building where my husband rents an office. Despite the fact that my husband has had all of his business mail/packages shipped to our home address, this carrier asked if there was someone with my husband's name working in the office. My husband overheard this question and came out to see who was enquiring about him. The UPS guy explained that he didn't think he could get up the long drive to our home and so was dropping a package off at my husband's place of work instead. 

You see, we had freezing rain, covered by 7 inches of snow last week. It is still on the ground. Plus we've had some light dustings and sleet that have come down since then. In our part of the world, this is unheard of for early December. A week after the snow, schools operated on a 2 hour delay yesterday! Because snow is so unusual here, people always have a hard time coping with this much snow. I know, you northerners are shaking your heads and rolling your eyes.

"Snow in December, pah! It starts falling here in October!" 

"Seven inches is nothing. Why we have 21 inches on the ground already."

But here a forecast of snow seems to strike fear into the hearts of most. (Well, that and it causes them to go grocery shopping.) For one thing, our poor county relies on a handful of pick-up trucks to plow. I don't think the county owns a full-size, bona fide plow. For another thing, most folks in this county are rural to the extreme. Many have to drive 45 minutes or more for groceries or gas. They heat their homes (often trailers, double-wides, or glorified shacks) with wood.  Most don't make much money and don't have decent winter apparel, shovels, or plows. And they have little experience driving in snow or ice. You get the idea.

Anyway, here are some kickers to this delivery story. 

#1) We didn't deem the snowfall worth hooking the plow up to the tractor for, and have been traversing our long driveway sans plowing for a week with no difficulties. I haven't lived in a northern clime for 15 years, but had no trouble driving in the snow in our minivan. Even the USPS has delivered to my door twice this week.

#2) The day before, the same delivery man had put a large package for us in a plastic bag (that did not cover the top) and dropped it in the snow at the end of our driveway (probably due to the aforementioned reason) despite the flurries that were falling that day. Luckily my husband was in town this week and saw it as he drove by, otherwise it could have sat outside for days. I only get out several times a week for scheduled activities.  

#3) The package given to my husband at his place of work was addressed to ME at our home address. His name was nowhere on the package. But somehow the delivery man heard that someone with the same last name as mine worked in my husband's building. He assumed/knew that we were married. In a county this small and a town this size word gets 'round quickly. In another county we could have been brother and sister or cousins or even unrelated. But in this county/town all this is known. We're probably the only folks around with our last name, and one of the few families that hasn't lived here for generations. 

#4) Of all the items for which I was awaiting delivery, the package contained my husband's Christmas present. Clearly emblazoned on the side was not only the company name, but the item description. All that was missing was a picture. And we had just gone over all of our Christmas shopping together two nights before, so he knew that this item was not for any of our children or relatives. Sigh.

"Surprise, honey! Merry Christmas a bit early!"

I find this to be a classic small town occurrence. The UPS man saw nothing wrong with delivering a package to someone who was not the addressee. He found no problem delivering a package to an address not listed on the label. He was unabashed in knowing so much about us. Since I grew up in an urban environment, an occurrence like this is disturbing on so many levels, but I think my husband, who grew up in a small town, finds it humorous. Unlike me, he is in his element and comfortable here. I do not like the fact that everybody knows about me despite my never having met them! I tend to be a private person. (This blog is only a tiny slice of my life.) So I'm still struggling to get used to such things.

But in return for my uncomfortableness I do get benefits. For example, when the snow initially fell, I stood in a pool of lamplight for a moment before I began shoveling. I heard the soft sigh of flakes falling on flakes. I watched as each snowflake shadow seemed to rise to meet its matching snowflake.  I heard the beech leaves in the understory of the woods rustle slightly in a breath of wind. I heard the creak of swaying branches in the cold. That's all I heard… no cars, no sirens, no music, no voices, no TV noise from the neighboring house.

When having to get up on and off all night a few days ago to tend my teething baby, I got to see the moonlight shimmer on sparkling snow. I saw the long, pale shadows of tulip trees slide slowly across the luminescent blanket of snow as the moon slowly set.

All week I've seen the animals as their habits have changed. A yearling white-tail has been bedding down between the bushes and the house. It grazes on the ivy during the day. I saw 5 bluebirds on the fence at one time. A pileated woodpecker flew just feet from my windshield today as I made my way down the drive, etc. The yard is is just criss-crossed with animal prints. 

So there you have it: Mother Nature and Nosy Nellie seem to go hand-in-hand.

Ten Point Buck

Last night, driving home from musical practice, we came upon three deer at the entrance to our driveway. First we saw a doe. She was startled and quickly jumped over the fence and disappeared into the lower hay field. After a few more feet of driving, a ten point buck burst onto the drive and after giving the vehicle an annoyed glare (long enough for me to get a good look at his antlers, obviously!)  he followed the doe with a light hop over the fence. A few seconds later, illuminated faintly by the headlights, I spied an 8 point buck grazing on the side of the board fence that the previous two deer had jumped to. He looked up at us in a bored way and continued munching, just feet from our noisy bright car, so we got an especially good look at him.

I imagine that the ten point buck was the one that I saw on Friday. During lunch we saw him walk very purposefully across the upper hay field and slip into a thicket at the edge of the woods by the head of the lake. These are the pictures I quickly snapped as he did so.

It always tickles us to see bucks this time of year. Most of the year we only see herds of does. It's in the fall that the males usually turn up. And it seems to coincides with the start of hunting season (firearms). 

Every morning of the first week or so of the season, the hunters drive or walk down the logging road behind our house to hunt in the classified forrest behind us. Never have they bagged a deer that we have seen. Perhaps the deer migrate to our land... the only homestead for miles without a dog and where no one hunts. (My oldest boy has hit one with a sling shot, but the startled deer trotted off a few paces, and then got back to the business of grazing.)

This reminds me of the new twists in the hunting saga that occurred this year (refer to the following post for the back-story: Deer Season). I have yet to write about the most recent developments with the hunters/caretakers of the classified forrest behind us. I should soon. (If you want to read a few of my other previous deer posts, refer to the following: Deer Antics, Deer Sanctuary, Coyote Chase, Look at the Deer, Dear!)

Fall Color

The twisters that tore through the midwest this Sunday bypassed us. We got strong winds and lots of limbs down, but didn't even lose power! (Considering our recent 30 hour power outage, we were surprised.) We did lose all the fall color though. The only leaves remaining now are the dry, brown leaves of marcescent trees like the blue beech and ironwood, the red, white and pin oaks. This reminded me that I had not posted any pics of the aforementioned fall foliage. So although they are a bit belated, here are a few...

This is a view of the last stretch of our driveway before it wraps around the house. These are tulip trees/yellow poplars mixed with a few shorter maple trees.

Here's one of the aforementioned maple trees, a red one.

And this maple is yellow.

Aren't these pretty? I can see all of these trees from the windows of my house. I am so lucky!

Rural Sundays

On the way down our long drive today as we headed to the "early" Mass, we startled three deer. The horses across the road were out grazing amongst our neighbor's machinery and vehicles. The goats around the corner were playing "king of the round bale", as usual. The donkey was nuzzling the bull in the pen on the other side of the drive from the goats. The cows were foraging across the road from them.  Shortly thereafter, we passed an owl that was dead on the road. Who has ever seen owl road-kill?! Then I spied a coyote, aglow with early morning light, standing in a freshly harvested soybean field. All this in less than 5 minutes! That's how it is here. 

On the way back from Mass, we passed a tractor pulling a hay wagon. Some cows had been turned out into a recently harvested field of corn. The draft horses were near the road. The buffalos were out. And across from the buffalo farm, there were some new "oreo/pig cows"(otherwise known as belted Galloways.) 

This afternoon when my husband took the three middle kids out for a hike in the woods and a paddle on the lake, there were deer bedded down in the hay field near the house. Shortly thereafter, my oldest son came to tell me that there was a possum next to the house. I went to look out the window, and sure enough, there was an opossum munching away on something next to the patio. My boy tapped on the glass, but it didn't flinch. Later I learned that he had some fun trying to get its attention and generally messing with it. He said that it pretty much ignored him, even when he stood near it and threw things at it. (He had asked to go out on the screen porch to snap a photo, which I okayed. I didn't know at the time that instead he decided to go stand next to the thing to get a better shot, etc.) 

If we had turned the other way at the end of our road this morning, instead of heading toward town, we would have seen the donkeys. I snapped this picture of them last Sunday. Everyone was still sick and we were all recovering from the big storm that blew through and left us without standard power for 30 hours. So I took the early rising baby out of the house so that his noise wouldn't bother anyone and we went to the "late Mass".

It was a particularly striking morning  because it was foggy. It was a freezing fog in places, and gave everything an otherworldly tinge. Ordinary cows were shrouded in clouds. 

The rolling hills and dales wore wisps of fog too. And if you look closely at the picture on the right, you will see a young buck and a doe who were frolicking in the pasture when I snapped this shot. Shortly before this the buck intermittently stood in the road in front of my vehicle looking at me in an annoyed way or sauntered down the road until finally he jumped the fence.

Fog

It was foggy in the night. I could tell before the sun even rose. Somehow the darkness was thick looking- near, not so deep. It remained foggy all day. It has been cold lately, with heavy frosts each morning. But was warmer today, hence the fog. At the intervals that I sat rocking the baby, I noticed it thicker, thinner, foggy in the rain, foggy in this part and then later in that. 

As the light waned this evening, I watched it blow in gusts across the upper hay field. It would seep along until everything was ghostly. Then it would blow off. Later waves of it would roll along. As I snuggled my son while he slipped off to sleep, I watched the undulating moisture as bats circled and swooped above it, marveling at the sight as the light faded and the mists drifted.  

McCormick's Creek State Park

Today some of the children still have fevers. Coughing, sneezing, running noses, watering eyes, and sore throats linger. Even the baby is snorky, snotty, and miserable. So there will be no family outing today, which is too bad. It will be in the mid-fifties, and the sun is currently shining (although it's 32 degrees fahrenheit still.) 

The falls at McCormick's Creek State Park after a heavy rain

Of late, we have enjoyed the occasional picnic and hike at McCormick's Creek State Park on Sunday afternoons. It boasts a pretty little falls, a limestone-bottom creek, small caves, and wooded ravines and ridges. There are of course other amenities, but we just like to hike and take in the scenery.

I'm bringing up the rear with the baby in a front carrier.

One of our favorite trails follows the shelving limestone-bottom creek. After rains it is very treacherous due to all of the slippery moss and algae and higher water. Even in dry weather there are many loose stones and boulders to traverse. 

The water is very low and the stones are dry in this picture.

But the views are wonderful. The sides of the valley are often limestone bluffs in which there are small caves. 

The water is a little high in this picture.

Everything is wooded, shaded, and lovely. Geodes abound, as do fossils and ferns. 

There are even smaller waterfalls, like the one below. 

And the springs that empty into the creek are also lovely.

The downside is that when the trail leaves the creek, there is a giant wooden staircase that climbs out of the valley. This is really a good thing, as the loose sides of the gully would be difficult to traverse indeed. But this hike is not for those with poor eyesight, limited mobility, or lung/heart problems. 

This about half of the staircase.

Morning Musings

This morning I sat rocking and nursing the baby, wondering how much longer I would get these moments of closeness and relative quiet. It's a bittersweet time, when your child begins to transition from baby to toddler. Although only eight months, this little one is endlessly driven to be vertical and to walk. Already he refuses to nurse more and more each day, frustrated by the lack of view that it subjects him to, and the fact that he has to be relatively still. It probably hurts him a little with his top teeth coming in too. He now prefers the endless variety of new tastes, textures, and smells of "big people food." Besides, he can munch on a bit of something AND scurry around at the same time! Of course he is making up for his limited daily nursing by nursing much more at night. This is frustrating and exhausting, but knowing that all too soon this phase of his life will be gone and I'll miss his little baby self gets me through these over-tired, sleep-deprived days.

Anyway, as I sat thinking such thoughts, I noticed a large hawk sitting on the newly dead tulip poplar across the upper hay field. The sun was shining brightly, just peeking over the tree line, illuminating the light feathers of its breast and under-wings when it moved. I'm sure that's why it had chosen that particular spot to preen in. It went about his business seemingly oblivious of the smaller birds who, making their normal morning rounds, flew up to the tree intending to land, only to suddenly veer sharply away when they sighted the bird of prey. I wondered if it was the hawk who watched me empty the dryer, if it was the hawk who my preschooler thought was an owl when he spied it on the board fence one day, or the hawk who hunted the crow that early, gray morning way back when. Whatever the case, it was not hunting, just regally soaking up the sun.

Throughout the morning, the frost slowly receded across the hay, melting as it's protective shadows disappeared with the climbing sun. Through the screen porch door off of the laundry room, I saw the hawk as I switched loads. I noticed it out the kitchen window as I filled the teapot. I looked for it through the dining room window when I cleared off the breakfast things. I glanced at it when I stood in the stone room next to my oldest son, after discussing the schoolwork for the day. Surprisingly, the hawk remained on the same branch, sunning himself for over an hour. (It was 29 degrees Fahrenheit outside after all!) And when I began to take for granted that it would be there, it was gone.

Such is life. On days when all of my strength is sapped from wrestling with the baby, walking him around, catching him as he falls, holding him on my hip and keeping him away from the stove with one arm while I cook with the other, etc., washing endless loads of dishes, laundry and diapers for a family of seven... during my evenings when I stay up until the middle of then night in order to clean up from the daily bomb and to prepare for the next day... at night when I spend more time in the rocking chair than in my bed... every morning when I wake up feeling worse than I felt when I laid down the night before, when I scrape myself out of bed wincing in pain and stumble to the door of my room, I remember that my birds will soon be gone too. Or maybe it will be me that will be gone. Maybe I'll be a "looney bird." In any case, my poorly made point is that this phase is just that, a phase. Soon this sunlit "hour" of my life will be over. The baby will walk. The kids will be grown and leave the nest one by one...

In the mean time, I hope to bask in the little moments of sunshine when the warm and fuzzy-headed baby nestles close in my arms (even if it is three in the morning), when the preschooler nearly bowls me over with an unasked for hug (despite the the fact that he leaves a peanut butter smear on my shirt and makes me spill my drink), when the kindergartener reads her first "big kid book" and looks up at me with pride (and the remains of frustrated tears in her eyes), when that huge grin spreads on the face of my fourth grader upon learning that she got a part in a musical that requires her to be on stage for every act (as well as her attendance at long, disorganized rehearsals at inconvenient times), when my freshman in high school proudly shows off his latest computer program (that he ignored his other tasks and his family for in order to create.) Life is short and bittersweet, and I want to savor it all. I don't want to take one minute of it for granted.

Sunday Drive

(double click to enlarge)

This is the view of a pasture just up the road from my place. I drove by it on Sunday. On a whim, I captured this picture from the front seat of my car with the camera on my phone. The birds were wheeling. The sun was shining. Color was just beginning to touch the trees. It was gorgeous. I wish I could just freeze time for a brief interval when I'm hit with a moment like this. 

I have that feeling a lot, actually. I guess I'm just greedy and want to hold on to those brief moments of contentment for a while longer. And really, that's what my photography is all about. I try to capture those fleeting moments as life races by. I know that my over-tired, stressed self will soon forget that second of bliss and I'll be bogged down in the mire of daily life. So I unobtrusively capture what I can and savor it later, marveling at and enjoying the moments again.  

We've added a new tradition to our family's evening prayers. Instead of wrapping up in our usual way with each of us adding a petition, we now add an petition AND a thanksgiving. We're trying to foster grateful hearts in order to combat the naturally demanding natures of our children. It's been very good for us to focus each night on the things that we (and those we come into contact with) have been blessed with. It's amazing how hard it is to narrow it down to just one thing a day that I'm thankful for. Right now my heart is overflowing with gratitude for the tremendous gift of living in a place of natural beauty.

Rural Strays

We came home from Mass last Sunday only to pull up short on our drive because there was a cow and calf standing on it. Usually it's deer we stop for. And although deer are damaging enough (one leapt into the side of our last vehicle once and left a sizable dent) it is a little more disconcerting to come to an abrupt halt for a 600 to 1000 lb. cow who is protecting her baby.

My husband had his cell phone with him and promptly called our neighbors. These were undoubtedly their cows. In the meantime, the cattle got spooked, and the calf slipped into the lower hay field through the gate which was ajar, and the cow barreled onto the road on the other side of the wire fence. So, as they were on the move, we were in our Sunday duds, there was no traffic on the road, and the owners were on their way, we continued up the long lane to our house.

Those who have been following this blog since last summer know that in these parts, it is not out of the ordinary to have stray animals wander on to your property. I am referring to a specific case about a horse. (For the back-story, refer to these ancient posts in order: Horsin' Around, Gift Horse, Sorry Charlie, Charlie, et al. , Horse Trading, and The Horse Saga.) We've had stray cows several times too. (Here's one example: Round 'Em Up.) And this phenomenon is not restricted to this locale. At our old place we had stray cows a number of times, and even a stray horse, not to mention the stray rabbit, numerous cats, and wandering dogs (one blind). Sadly, we've even been a contributor to the issue, having once lost a whole herd of cows (The Cows are Loose.)

In the city it's the neighbor's cats digging in your flower bed and chasing birds off the feeder. It's a stray dog pooping in your front yard. In the rural world, it's the neighbor's bull in the road, cows in your hay lot, sheep bleating from your woods, or a horse rearing at passing cars on the road out front. It's packs of hounds yelping and howling as they follow the scent of some critter and tear through your property.

Wandering dogs are so common that I think we're the only folks for many miles who do not own one. And most people don't just own one, hence the groups of them. Our closest neighbors currently own four and have had a couple of others there in the last few years. And my husband was chatting with one of our neighbors from across the road as my son mowed her yard the other day. In the course of the conversation, he learned that her daughter and son-in-law who live on the same property currently own 14 dogs. (It used to be 15, but recently one was "lost" to a coyote.) Her daughter breeds them I guess, but must sell them far more slowly than she raises them. They roam the place (and sometimes ours) and go in and out of their house. They're sort of like the "Bumpus' hounds" from The Christmas Story, I guess. Only we don't swear or live by Lake Michigan.

Home-Made Non-Toxic Tub and Tile Cleaner (Spray)

INGREDIENTS
1/2 teaspoon washing soda (I use Arm and Hammer)
1 teaspoon borax (I use 20 Mule Team)
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon vegetable oil based liquid soap (I use Dr. Bronner's)
3 Tablespoons vinegar
2 cups HOT tap water
Spray bottle

DIRECTIONS
Place all ingredients in a spray bottle and shake well until thoroughly combined.
Spray cleaner onto the tub or tile.
After a couple of minutes, rinse or wipe off with a damp sponge.

NOTE
If your spray bottle clogs up, either be sure to mix your ingredients better, your water is hot enough, or use less washing soda and borax next time.

Home-Made Non-Toxic Weed Killer

INGREDIENTS
1 gallon white distilled vinegar
1/4 cup salt
2 teaspoons dish soap (I happened to buy Dawn Ultra. It was on sale locally, and I didn't want to waste my ECOVER.)

DIRECTIONS
Add all ingredients to a tightly lidded container and shake vigorously until salt is in solution.
Pour into a spray bottle.
Coat all possible leaves of the plant that you want to eradicate.

NOTE
Do not spray this on a windy day, as the drift may cause unintentional damage to non-targeted plants.

Sunny days cause this spray to be more effective.

Do not spray on wet plants. This dilutes the weed killer solution and renders it a little less effective.

Particularly tough plants (like poison ivy) require several applications. (I DID eradicate some small poison ivy plants near our patio this way.)

Home-Made Powdered Laundry Detergent

INGREDIENTS
1 (4.5 oz) bar of castile soap, grated or ground (I use Kirk's Original Coco Castile bar soap. It's cheap and readily available.)
2 cup borax (I use 20 Mule Team Borax.)
2 cups washing soda (I use Arm & Hammer All Natural Super Washing Soda.)
1 resealable container that holds about 5 cups

DIRECTIONS
Thoroughly stir together all ingredients (not the container, of course!)
Use 1 Tbsp per load (or 2-3 Tbsp for large or heavily soiled loads).

NOTES

If you don't like hand grating bar soap, try a food processor. I have a small one and that is what I use- with the chopping blade. I bet a sturdy blender would work too.

If you want scented soap, try using Dr. Bronner's scented bar soaps. They're lovely and come in a variety of scents. They're just more expensive.

If you have soft water, you can reduce the borax and washing soda in the recipe down to 1 cup each. If you do, you're cutting your detergent cost down to about 5 cents per load! (We have very hard water at this new place of ours, so I use more.) 

This soap works well for high efficiency washing machines. It's low-suds.

This detergent is safe for septic systems. It has no phosphates or fillers and is non-toxic.

This soap works well on cloth diapers and covers, as it leaves no optical whiteners, softeners, or fragrance residues behind.

Don't confuse sodium borate with borax. These are 2 different things. Sodium carbonate/soda ash IS the same thing as washing soda, however.

Memorial Day, Belated

When my youngest gets up for the day very early in the morning (after having been up on and off all night, because that's what my kids do) and the rest of the family is sleeping, I sometimes take him for an outing. On one such morning close to Memorial Day, in a cemetery not too very far from our place, I found some interesting war memorials. First there were two civil war cannons (pictured below.) Both of their limestone bases are inscribed with the following:

Cannon Used in War for the Unity 1861 - - 1865

Loaned by War Dept. U. S. A.

Dedicated to the

Union Soldiers of Owen County

By:

Gettysburg Post No. 93 G. A. R. 

-and- W. R. C. No. 106

July 4th, 1905

The cannons are early model 8-inch Rodman Guns, cast in 1861 by Fort Pitt Foundry in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The muzzle markings indicate that they both weigh over 8000 pounds!

And how 'bout that building behind them?! It's made primarily of geodes- very cool. It bears a wooden sign that reads, "Soldiers Memorial Pavilion". In front of the pavilion are limestone benches, a flagpole, and an American Revolution Memorial cannon. This cannon's base is inscribed:

To Soldiers of the Revolution Owen Co.

In Memoriam

James Brayant

Peter Witham

(Spencer)

Joshua Kelley

Thomas Ashbrook

(Wash. Tp.)

Inside the pavilion itself is a limestone lectern, noting a refurbishing date for the memorial, and a pressed copper relief set in recessed limestone, and mounted behind glass.

Beneath it is embossed "The American's Creed." It reads as follows:

"I believe in the United States of America as a government of the people, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed, a democracy in a republic, a sovereign Nation of many sovereign States; a perfect union, one and inseparable; established upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes.

I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it, to support its Constitution, to obey its laws, to respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies. William Tyler Page"

Below the creed, in the base of the limestone structure that the plaque is mounted on, the following is inscribed:

Dedicated to the Memory of Those

Who Served Their Country

During the Wars of the United States

—————————

Erected through the Efforts of

The Women's Relief Corps

of Spencer, Indiana

1939

—————————

Panel and Design of Pavilion Furnished By:

E. M. Viquesney, Sculptor.

I looked up "The American's Creed" and learned that it was written in 1917 as a submission in a nationwide contest of patriotism. The contest's goal was to "have a concise but complete statement of American political faith." Page drew from historical documents and speeches such as the Declaration of Independence, the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution, Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, etc. His composition was chosen from over 3000 submissions! On April 3, 1918 it was accepted by the House of Representatives on behalf of the American people. Today it also often comprises part of the Naturalization  Ceremony for new Americans. 

Other interesting anectdotes are that not only was Page a descendant of Carter Braxton, who was a signer of the Declaration of Independence, he was also related to the tenth U.S. President, John Tyler. As well, he travelled to Washington D.C. in 1881 at the age of 13 to serve as a page in the capitol. This kicked off a 61-year-long career as a national public servant, for in 1919 he was elected Clerk of the House of Representatives and after that, Emeritus Minority Clerk. He maintained this latter post for the remainder of his life.

Another "factoid" is that the sculptor of the plaque, Viquesney, is buried in the same cemetery, along with his family. There is a large limestone sculpture of a woman next to Easter Lilies removing a shroud with her arms raised over her head entitled, "The Unveiling" as the family plot marker. (Viquesney is most famous for the statue, "Spirit of the American Doughboy.")

I'm not sure what is more amazing, the age of the cannons, the geode and limestone structure inlaid with brass stars bearing the name of veterans and the conflict in which they served, the overt patriotism of this memorial in these jaded times, the relatively great condition of this memorial given its age, or the fact that there was NO evidence of vandalism at the time of my viewing (despite the lack of things for youth to do in these parts!) Yes, places like this really exist and speak to a former time of widespread national identity and pride. This is what this part of the heartland is largely still all about. Love of God and our country runs deep here and is a way of life for many. Individual freedoms are dearly prized by most. And there remains a strong contingent of patriots whose loyalty is fierce and true, not merely naive and sentimental.

"Crab Rangoon" Dip

(I call this a "twice a year" food. It's definitely not something I'd feel comfortable eating regularly :)

INGREDIENTS

2 cups crab meat, minced
16 oz. (2 blocks) cream cheese or neufchâtel
1/2 cup sour cream
4 to 6 green onions, chopped

3 cloves of garlic, minced or 1/2 tsp garlic powder
1 1/2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
2 to 4 Tbsp powdered sugar(for smoothness) sugar, or sweetener of choice

1 tsp. of ginger, minced, or 1/4 tsp. of ginger dried and ground

2 tsp. soy sauce or Bragg's Liquid Aminos
1/2 tsp lemon juice

DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees fahrenheit.

2. Soften the cream cheese.
3. Chop your green onions. 

4. Add the onions, crab meat, and garlic to the cream cheese. Combine well.
4. Add the sour cream, Wosterschire sauce, sugar, ginger, soy sauce, and lemon juice- mixing all the ingredients thoroughly.

5. Bake for 30 mins at 350 degrees. 

6. Serve hot with fried wontons, crackers, chips, or pork rinds.

Long Lost Blogger

Hello long lost readers! Or rather I should say, "Hello, from the long lost blogger!" I can't believe that a month has gone by so fast. But what can I say? My life is full. And I'm in that strange stage when to talk of my busy life seems like complaining or cataloguing due to the nature of the things that take my time. I'll try to stick with the latter in a highly abbreviated way since most of what I do is mundane. Plus, I'll skipping over all the details that I am usually so obsessed with just to keep this brief. Really- I will!

This photo does not do justice to his glorious thighs!

First off, and my biggest excuse for not blogging: the baby. He's huge- and I don't just mean pound-wise anymore. I mean, he's seven months this week. Sniff. He's sitting, crawling quickly, pulling up on things, kneeling, feeding himself things like crackers, and wanting to be helped to walk around. This keeps me very busy. He's got a gorgeous grin and an even temper. But his teething has caused some majorly cranky days a huge sleeping backslide. I am exhausted from the frequent night wakings! (Notice how I skip the details of said night wakings :) 

Then there was our vacation on Lake Michigan. That set me back a week right there. The little man above wanted no part of the beach, but the getaway was still nice. The kids had a blast in the waves and sand. (See? I skipped listing all of our adventures AND posting a million photos of cute kids and the beach!)

My youngest daughter was smitten with this pony after her big sister insisted we scour the barns for  horses.

We also made a daring day trip to the state fair with the fam. The highly condensed version is that I carried the 22 lb. wiggler in the heat for HOURS. Rides were ridden. Livestock was looked at. Comestibles were consumed. 

This dude absolutely HATES having his picture taken and is quite annoyed with me here. 

 My oldest finally wrapped up his 8th grade year the week before the aforementioned vacation. All the visitors we hosted last year, the travel, my pregnancy, and the new baby set us back. ( I HAD to tell you that so that you know I'm not irresponsible- or a slave driver.) He took his first ever standardized test, speeding through it and complaining that it was too easy, and got a 99. Awesome! The week after our trip he started high school. He's also suddenly 6' 2". CRAZY! (Notice how I am relating events out of order. Do catalogues do that? Do they? I don't THINK so :)

What else was there? My husband did a stint of work travel in there somewhere. We picnicked, pitched tents in the "yard", started a new school year. (I decided at the last minute to school the newly 4 and 6 year olds in tandem! This is no small feat as they're honing their reading.) We dealt with the goats getting dermal mites. We saw a flock of turkeys and the coyote several times (or several coyotes. But definitely the turkeys were several, as they were always in a rafter or a gang. And yes, those are the technical terms for a group of turkeys. I am THAT nerdy.) We got a new toilet installed in the girls' bathroom. (I teased my husband about using the old one as a planter by the road under our "Living Water Hobby Farm" sign. He was not nearly as amused as I was.) And lastly, we attended a balloon fest. I think those are all the "biggies". (Yes, both the balloons and the items.) Everything else was pretty routine, albeit time consuming. And now we're all caught up. 

We decided that the jetpack man should have been engineered so that the flames were by his jet pack, and NOT his...  ahem. 

Vultures

The hay came in a while back. It was odd to be so cut off from it. (Did ya catch that pun there?) I was stuck with the baby, so not helping with the haying. Our hay crew had a couple of new people this year though, so my work wasn't missed. 

About two thirds was baled in round bales, and the remaining third in square bales. My husband personally threw about 350 square bales from the back of the truck up to the loft of the barn! (If you don't know what that means, or don't know much about hay, you should check out this old post of mine. It's full of useful hay information, as the name implies.) Our barn is now stuffed full of hay! It was a bumper crop since we've had so much rain. Plus, we let our neighbors store some of the hay for their horses in the "lower" barn along with ours for a small fee.

This year there were a lot of turkey vultures on the field as the hay was drying. I imagine that the cutters disturbed some rabbit nests. (We've had a bumper crop of rabbits too.) The vultures "tussled" and hustled about like overgrown chickens, stealing from each other. They returned a few days later after the hay was baled too. Probably the baler picked up some snakes that were staying cool in the windrows. 

We see turkey vultures a lot from our place, but usually they are flying. Today there were seven or eight of them turning slow circles in the sky. They like to ride thermals. When they do, they look much smaller and turn in lazy loops and spirals, teetering now and then and only making a flap or two once in a great while. 

As you saw above, turkey vultures are large, dark birds. The look black from far away, but are actually dark brown with a bald, red head and a pale beak. Much of the underside of their wings is light colored. Speaking of wings, theirs are broad, and they "finger" at the ends. When soaring, these wings make them look like the quintessential painted bird (like a "v".)  They have long tails too. They extend past their feet when they fly. I think the only raptors bigger than turkey vultures are eagles and condors.

As you've probably gathered, turkey vultures are great scavengers. If it weren't for the vultures, the rural roads 'round these parts would be littered with roadkill. Apparently, the hay fields would be littered with carcasses at times too. So I'm thankful for nature's garbage pickers, and I love to see them sliding and swooping through the sky on these sultry summer days.

"Funny Bird"

A few days ago, as I changed my six month old's diaper, my middle son (who was standing at the window) said, "Mom, there's a funny looking bird outside."

"Oh, yeah?" I replied absentmindedly, "What color is it?"

In true four year old fashion he responded, "It looks like an owl! It's sitting on the fence."

When the baby was all put back together, I scooped him up and we went to see the "funny looking bird". This is what we saw about 6 yards away.

How awesome is that? (I'd feel differently if we still had chickens.) This hawk even scanned the ground long enough looking for his breakfast that I was able to walk down the hall to get the camera in order to pull off this one-handed shot with a squirmy babe in arms. We live in a virtual nature preserve.

August Evening

This time of year it is lovely here to be outside as darkness falls. A typical night goes something like this. The heat of the day is dissipating, but the humidity is still visible. There is a misty haze hanging over the hay field, and an abundance of greenness. The last light filters through the trees to the west. 

The hummingbirds are vibrating the air with their aerial acrobatics as they skirmish over the impatiens. Their buzzing swerves near you, temporarily raising the hair on your arms. A catbird mews regularly, hopping from the birdbath to the brush to the fence and back. A brown creeper calls. It perches alternately on waist-high items near the house (the handle of the seesaw, the back of the wicker chair, the grill) and with it's tail erect, it cocks it's head and looks up at the stone wall of the house, searching for supper. Its short and sudden movements after insects are punctuated each time with a loud whir of wings. 

A duo of deer are grazing lazily in the hay field. You notice them because one doe stops chomping. She lowers her head and walks tentatively toward something. She is cautious and curious. Then she gets spooked and raises her tail and trots off a piece before looking intently at the same area that she had been approaching. 

And then there begin a series of rasping fox barks from the direction of the place she was headed: a "peninsula of woods" that juts out into the pasture at the top of a ravine. The fox keeps up his barking at intervals, each bark startling, strange, and other-worldly. You know that a spring surfaces at the head of that particular gully and cascades over shelving rock in a small waterfall, and you imagine him sitting near the top of the falls on his haunches, raising his head from time to time to croak out his strange cry.

After a time, a vixen begins her wailing response. It sounds like a frail woman lamenting in the distance. She cries over and over again. He adds his harsh squall to her sad song intermittently as the bird calls and movements gradually cease, the insects seem to get louder and louder, and the light continues to dim. 

You scan the edge of the field along the woods in the twilight and can barely make out two frolicking shapes circling one another in the shadows. And then, even as you strain your eyes, darkness falls, and you see them no more. You are in the night with the bugs' sounds assaulting your ears, thinking of how very many insects there must be to make so much noise, wondering if the foxes were only a dream, and considering going inside, as soon the 'possum and 'coon will make their rounds past the very place where you stand.

Party of Six

Today, after daily Mass, I stopped at a restaurant and bought breakfast for my kids. Three of them had already had a breakfast early in the morning, but my 14 year old had not, and was starving. We could have driven home for food, but I thought that the treat of eating out would be a good reward for my kids behaving so well. Besides, my husband had left early in the morning on a business trip, and I hadn't eaten. I had been up late and for big chunks of the night due to my youngest's recent bout with teething, so I was hungry. The likelihood of my getting to eat once we got home, when I would be busy tending the baby and preparing more food, was slim.

  

Unfortunately, I was accosted by an elderly "gentleman" with a loose tongue and no tact. First he called out to me as we made our way to the table, "Don't ya think he's getting cold?!" He was referring to the 5 month old in my arms. My son was in a short sleeved romper. I figured the man just needed a reason to talk to me, so I smiled and said, "Maybe" as cheerfully as I could. 

Later he came over to me and told me that seeing a woman "all by herself with so many kids" reminded him of how he once "saw a woman at a restaurant with 'stair-step' children." He indicated what he meant by holding his hand at different heights in increasingly higher positions.  He looked me in the face pointedly, and I noticed his glass eye. I tried to look attentive and pleasant, but definitely wasn't smiling. He hesitated a minute and then continued, "I told her, 'Don't ya have a T.V.?!' She laughed," he said. "Then she kept on laughing every few minutes after that. I think I made her day." 

He chuckled at the story. I did not know what to say to this. It seemed that he had read my restrained facial expression and mitigated his intended statement. But I was still mildly offended. I didn't want him to think that I thought it was funny, but I didn't want to be rude. I was thinking to myself that the lady was probably making an effort to laugh so that she didn't cry, that his joke was hurtful. Or perhaps she was chuckling at him, his naivety and triteness. He stood there and stared at me. I couldn't come up with anything to say.

Then he said, "He must be getting cold," and nodded at the baby. It was 80 degrees Fahrenheit with 89 percent humidity at 9:30 in the morning and only getting hotter! My kiddo was not under-dressed. Yes, the air conditioning was on, but it was not cold in the restaurant, like some grocery stores can be. If it had been, I would have gotten his sweatshirt out of my diaper bag and put it on him. 

"Probably," I replied, giving him the benefit of the doubt. I smiled at him and then turned away. I was getting frustrated. He had implied that I was stupid, that my children were simply products of my boredom, and that I didn't know how to dress my children properly. AND he expected me to laugh at his banal and overused "joke". 

After a time, this man interrupted me a third time by calling out, "How old is he?" He was clearly referring to my infant again. "Five months," I replied. 

"Well then, he's a big one, ain't he?!" he continued. "Yup," I replied, "He started out big." At this point his dining companion joined in this long-distance conversation. "My wife, when she had two kids, they were big. One of em' was 7 pounds and 22 inches long. How big was he?" 

I smiled, but it felt like a lie. "Oh, he was really big, bigger than that," I told them. "How big?" the man with the glass eye prodded. I probably sighed at this point. "He was 11 pounds and 23 inches long," I declared, as proudly as I could, and thinking to myself, "Yes, I am a freak in many ways."

"Well he's like that there commercial on the T.V., ain't he?" said the second man. "You know the one I'm talkin' 'bout?" he asked me. I shook my head no. (I refrained from telling them that I did not, in fact, own a television.) "You know, the one with that really big black guy. I think he's a football player or somethin'."

"No, he ain't a football player. It's basketball," interjected the first man. 

"Well, anyway, his mom's on there and she says something like, 'He was more than I expected!' Ya know?" he said laughingly, waiting for a response. "Mine have all been big," I told him, shrugging. "Oh," he said, lamely. I didn't seem to be playing this game right. I was supposed to be the butt of their jokes and criticism, and join in, but I wasn't being a "good sport". We left shortly after that. I had had enough harassment. 

Episodes like this happen with such frequency that I have gotten to the point that I sometimes dread going places with the kids when my husband is not present. For some reason, no one seems to make comments like these when he's around. But I get inundated with negative and rude comments. I guess I should be happy to know that I am an unintentional witness for larger than average families. But instead, I just feel self-conscious and vexed. And usually, I'm put in a position where I truly do not know what the most charitable thing to do is. 

In this particular instance, my kids were quiet and well-behaved. We did nothing to draw attention to ourselves other than to be. Granted, the littlest two dripped some syrup on the table and my 4 year old got syrup on his hands. But other than that, they were model children.  On the one hand, my five month old was compared to linebackers and basketball players. On the other hand, I was reprimanded for not bundling him up, the insinuation being that he is like a newborn that can't regulate his own body temperature and that I am irresponsible. It seems that the sheer size of my family was offensive, so they were going to tease and find fault with me, even if it meant that they weren't consistent with their complaints. I mean, those men didn't bother a young couple who got out of a flashy sports car and brought in a baby in a car carrier. That infant was only dressed in a "onesie." They pestered me. They talked to me. And NOT to coo at the baby or tickle him under the chin or smile at us, to gawk, make rude comments, and to interrupt our family meal. 

And boy, taking my family out when I am visibly pregnant? That's even worse! There's no cute baby to mitigate their displeasure. Instead there's just this elephant-sized woman with a string of children. Wow, is that offensive! 

If people are so confounded by my family size, I wish that they would just be direct. I can answer questions like, "Why do you have so many kids?"  But really, I just want to eat in peace. Managing and infant, a preschooler, a kindergartener, and two older kids is enough of a distraction. :) And it's a good one.

Crazy and Fast

Life is speeding by crazy-fast and I can't seem to get a block of time big enough to compose a decent post. I've started several interesting posts that remain unfinished (limestone lithograph plates, barn signs, a natural weed killer recipe, cloth diapering info. etc.) But since I don't want to leave the blog dormant, here's a list of tedious "recents" that are noteworthy: 

A hummingbird got trapped in our screened-in gazebo and had to be freed. I think it went in to check out the shiny glass cup that my husband had left there. We feed them, and so they check the windows (since we have a feeder suctioned to the dining room window) and they check out shiny bottle-like things too, as we have a glass feeder suspended from a tree.

My oldest saw a 5 foot black snake wound around the downspout when he was mowing. He walked over to check it out and it dropped in a coil to the ground and managed to disappear. We have yet to figure out where it went, and think that it was a black rat snake.

My husband and oldest helped bring in our neighbor's hay. They pay to store it in our lower barn. It was a bumper crop! My husband threw the majority of probably 350 square bales up to the loft for storage. My 14 year old drove our pickup in the field when the load got too tall for him to heft bales on.

The aforementioned child also attended a week of sailing classes. He did some solo sailing, and often had the tiller when sailing in a group. He loved it, and knows more sailing jargon than I do now. He is attending robotics workshops this week. Later today the Lego robot he programmed with 3 other boys will compete against 5 other teams. I hope to go watch the competition.

My husband took our small, wooden sailboat out on the lake on Father's Day weekend for it's "maiden voyage". The pond is 2 acres, but fingered, and not roomy enough for sailing, so he rowed it. He reported that it is super fast and lives up to the name of "swift" carved into her side.

Additionally, his "start-up" company has been dominating our lives lately. He's been traveling, has worked long days, is texting/e-mailing frequently, and has worked evenings and even on a weekend. He's always "behind" as the workload is heavy, timing is all-important, and there are a handful of employees. Despite his busyness, he managed to put together an over-sized swing set though, for which my children are grateful. He also bought more play sand for me to spread in the over-sized sandbox he built last summer and took down the giant Christmas star from the back of the barn, etc.

My 4 month old is doing some serious teething. Thankfully he is still a mild-mannered and happy baby, but he's been fussy and his sleep (and mine!) is suffering. He also seems very interested in food.

The tractor saga continued. The repair place had promised us free labor on the wring harness due to their involvement in its demise, but when he went to pay for the part cost after it was replaced, they charged him for the extensive labor too, because it was "more work" than they had "anticipated". He pushed the issue and only paid for half the labor, but this was very frustrating and expensive for us. At least we can mow the pasture and such now.

A possum has now found the grill, and along with the 'coon makes it part of his nightly rounds.

One of the over-arching items in the last weeks has been my latest and ongoing bout of kidney stones. I was diagnosed with a milk of calcium stone about 5 years ago after I had an attack that required hospitalization during my pregnancy with my youngest daughter. It was described to me by the urologist as being a diverticulum in my kidney filled with a slurry of calcium and stones. There is no set treatment for this rare condition, so I adopted a "wait and see" approach. I have experienced kidney pain and random frequency/urgency issues for brief intervals over the years, but nothing major- until I started passing stones on Memorial Day weekend (when my in-laws were "camping" here in their RV.)  I have continued to pass stones on and off since then. Just the other day I passed a stone the size of a green garden pea! I was urinating and heard an audible "plink". Upon further investigation, I was shocked and disgusted buy the size of the thing. I'm hoping that was the climax, so to speak, and I will no longer be cramping painfully, peeing crimson, feeling the need to go when I can't, or feeling the need to urinate so frequently. I have been imbibing vast quantities of cranberry juice, which I dislike. Hopefully that helped. And at least I was able to avoid the hospital and the massive painkillers that would have been problematic for my nursing son. This has allowed my husband to work uninterrupted, allowed me to continue breast feeding the baby, and saved us money, etc.

The other over-arching item of the past weeks has been my father's health. He suffered two "micro-heart attacks" this month (although we did not know what they were at the time, as he showed no signs of heart damage during subsequent testing) and is scheduled for an open-heart valve replacement surgery next week. He made a quick visit here to say his "in-case-I-die" goodbyes. And I intend to take the baby and travel two states away to "help". This leaves my husband caring for the other four children for a longer time than he ever has, and squeezing in some non-postponable work in the evenings. It will be good for them though, as he's been all-consumed by work for the past three years. They need their daddy. And he needs their distraction.

Other than that, I think that everything else is commonplace: the endless and profuse laundry, the constant and copious dirty dishes, the meal planning, cooking, and clean-up, the "schooling", etc. The rainy weather has continued, and the loooong driveway is nearly impassable. The insects are terrible. The humidity is nearly unbearable. And we're all getting a bit of cabin fever, despite it being June.

So, to wrap up, please pray for my safe travels, for the success of my father's surgery and recovery, for the end to my kidney issues, for family unity, and for help with keeping up with everything. Thank you!