Bring me the churn, Pa.

I have been quite Suzy Homemaker-ish the last few days. (Raise your hand if you remember Suzy Homemaker toys. I had the kitchen sink and the iron. No wonder I hate dishes and ironing today.)

Anyway, I finished putting together Abbey's quilt this morning. We make quilts the easy way—by stacking the batting, backing, and top, stitching most of the way around, turning it all right-side out, then closing up the hole. Then I tacked it at each corner, and she's good to go. If you're a quilting purist, don't look at my beds. Abbey intends to hand quilt a design in each big square, but at least it's usable while she's procrastinating, and that's what's important to her.

Then I decided I would try my hand at homemade ricotta cheese. We avoid a lot of cheese because Abbey is so sensitive to the garbage that gets fed to and injected into commercial cattle, but we get raw milk from a farmer, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.

First, I get my milk in half-gallon mason jars, like this:

See how the cream rises to the top? Since we're not fans of whole milk, and also since some cows produce more cream than others, I skim some of the cream off and put it in a separate jar. It's good for creamy sauces, coffee, and sometimes I make butter out of it.

What I'm left with is about 2% milk-fat milk.

Now let's make ricotta!

Here's what you need:

Not really all that milk. I just thought it made a pretty picture in spite of the yellow cast and shadows from my kitchen lights. I used 4 cups milk, 2 cups cream, 1 teaspoon kosher salt, and 3 tablespoons white vinegar.

Measure out the milk and cream and pour them into a stainless steel or ceramic coated pot.

Stir in the salt and set the pot over medium heat to come to a boil.

Meanwhile, place two layers of cheesecloth over a colander, and set it over a bowl.

Stir the milk every so often so it doesn't burn, and when it just begins to boil around the edges, remove it from the heat.

Pour in the vinegar, give it a stir, and then leave it alone for a few minutes. In a very short time it will begin to form curds, which will separate from the whey. (One website said to feed the whey to your pets.)

After just two minutes, I could pull the curds away from the whey.

Now dump the whole thing into the cheesecloth-lined strainer. Let it drip however long you want. The longer it drains, the dryer it will be. After 10 minutes, I gathered the cheesecloth up and squeezed gently.

Not only does this smell good while it's in the making, but you can't image the difference in flavor. I don't know if I'll ever buy ricotta again!

This recipe made almost 2 cups. Next time I'll use 6 cups milk, 2 cups cream, 1 tsp. kosher salt, and 3 Tbsp. vinegar to make a little more so I can stand there with a spoon and eat it warm.

Be thankful ~

What you say at dinner matters.

From the very first day Ben and I were married, we have made it a point to sit down at the table and eat dinner together. When the babies were born, they would eat while I ate, even if that meant Ben had to cut up my food for me. When they were toddlers, we pulled their high chairs up to the table and fed them there, even if it was baby food out of a jar. We always ate together.

Now that the children are no longer children and have lives of their own, we still try to eat together as often as possible. We never gave in to eating in front of the TV.

When we sit down to eat, we pray first. We almost always hold hands all the way around the table, unless someone is sick or has one arm in a cast, as Ben has had here lately. Sometimes it weirds people out, especially if one of them is a guy who then has to hold hands with another guy he doesn't know very well.

And we pray. One of our favorite sayings comes from Papaw, who once said, "If you're behind in your prayer life, don't catch up at the dinner table," meaning keep it short, buddy—the food is getting cold. But we touch on the highlights, and always—ALWAYS—pray for the safety of each family member who is not at the table with us. It's become a matter of habit, and you may think that's not a good thing, to pray out of habit. But I disagree.

Some days it's impossible to eat dinner together, and that happens on most Wednesdays. Abbey works late. I leave early for singing practice at church. Ben gets stuck in traffic and usually meets us at church. Man-squared works. But we learned this morning that God hears us and answers, even when the same things day after day roll off our tongues in our table prayers, and even when we miss a day praying them.

Man-squared told me the story this morning.

He and two friends were sitting at a burger place last night after work, eating burgers. Man-squared told a joke and started to laugh. Somewhere in the laughter, a piece of food got caught in his throat. He couldn't swallow and he couldn't cough it out. It was just STUCK. He got very still while he tried to get it to move either way, and then began to panic. He slammed his fist down on the table, breaking the corner of it. One of the buddies immediately realized what was happening and jumped up, got behind MS, and performed the Heimlich maneuver with enough force to pull my 175-pound son up out of the chair, dislodging whatever was in MS's throat. MS fell back in his chair, Buddy collapsed in his, and the three of them sat in silence for a moment, shaken.

Had we prayed for Man-squared's safety that night at the dinner table? No. We didn't even have dinner together. But God knows our hearts, and He knows that safety is always on our minds. We always think of car accidents because Man-squared comes home late at night. But God answered in the form of a friend who is completely certified in first aid and CPR. 

God hears every word we say. And He remembers.

Every. Word.

Be thankful ~

Making do.

Some days you just can't keep up with it all—the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, and the working, even when you don't bother to do any cleaning. And some days you simply forget to do the laundry. Those would be the days Man-squared has no clean black pants and has to be at work by 3 and there's already a load of whites with bleach in the washing machine and it's 1:30 pm. So what do you do?

You switch the machine to spin. You take the clothes out, still reeking of bleach, and pile them in a laundry basket. Then you stand there and wonder if the remnants of bleach in the washer will ruin the black pants. You decide you have no option and go for it. You set the dial on the quick cycle, which takes 30 minutes and will leave you less than 15 minutes to dry the pants. You can't think about that right now. Just get them clean. And hopefully bleach-free.

Knowing Man-squared has to leave by 2:15, you run to the laundry room at 1:55 and see that the washer still has 11 minutes to run. Stupid timer is off. You wait impatiently and at 2:06 you snatch them from the washer and throw them in the dryer, switching it to the inferno setting. At 2:09 Man-squared comes in the laundry room where you are actively praying over the dryer and looks at you expectantly.

You tell him there's just no way. But never fear, Man-squared has an idea. He takes the still-very-wet pants and grabs a container of zip-ties from the garage. He has a ratchet strap holding the spare tire in the bed of his truck. He proceeds to zip-tie the belt loops of his pants to the ratchet strap.

Redneck clothes dryer. At 100°, I'm sure they were dry by the time he got to work.

Be thankful ~

Meet my friend, Spidey.

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook or Instagram, you've already been grossed out by my friend, Spidey. When I opened the curtains covering my french doors this morning, there he was, just hanging out. So what does a good blogger do? Grab the phone and start taking pictures. Unfortunately, the phone doesn't know what to focus on, and it kept getting the trees in the distance nice and sharp and leaving Spidey all blurry. Sorry for those of you who suffer with Instagram photos.

Then I realized that I have at my disposal a picture-taking device that is of slightly higher quality than my cell phone, so I quickly got the camera and switched to manual focus. Even at that, it took me a few tries to get a decent one, and all the while, Spidey just hung there, swaying in the breeze. (From head to spinnerets, Spidey is about an inch. With legs, I'm guessing 3 1/2.)

I thought he was dead but wasn't willing to go outside to confirm. So I snapped my photos and went back to work. A while later, Ben came in and saw him hanging there. Not one to let well enough alone, especially when there's a man-eating spider involved, he opened the door and stepped out. 

 

First he tapped Spidey on the back. Nothing. Then he wound up and gave him a good biff. Apparently Spidey was way out in dreamland, because it took him a few seconds to start stretching his legs and acting perturbed. Ben grabbed Spidey's hanging line and flipped him toward the edge of the deck, shoving him off the rest of the way with his bare foot.

So where are the pictures of that part, you ask? Ha ha! I'm smarter than that. I stayed at my desk on the other side of the glass until Spidey was safely in the woods off the edge of the deck.

In other news, Ben had his biceps tendon reattached yesterday (which is why he's hanging around the house playing with spiders) and is in a splint and sling until the 26th. He wants to be independent and doesn't want me helping him with every little thing, so I've agreed not to help unless he asks for it. Do you know how painful it is to watch someone try to unwrap a Little Debby snack with one hand without mangling it? This is going to be a long two weeks.

I hope Spidey warns his friends.

Be thankful ~

A visit from the past.

Have you ever looked back on your life and wondered what a friend from long ago was doing now? Where they are in life? What their family is like? Having spent 20+ years in the Navy and moving several times, we think about stuff like that a lot. We have friends all over the world who we were stationed with at one time or another, and some little thing will spark a memory and make us wonder about them.

Last week Ben was contacted by a guy we knew about 20 years ago when we were stationed at NAS Willow Grove, just outside of Philadelphia. Weren't we just children then? Art Good was a staff sergeant back then, went on to make gunnery sergeant, and then retired. We haven't had contact with Art since 1991 when we left Willow Grove for NAS Millington, Tennessee.

Art was on a long motorcycle trip and would be coming up through Virginia and wanted to stop by and say hi, so of course we said come on, and stay for dinner. Today was the day! Like us, Art looks the same only with some gray, and we had a great time for the little while he was here. When one of the kids mentioned there was a teddy bear on his Harley, I had to go take pictures.

I'm not much for motorcycles, but even I think this is a great-looking bike.

Art says the bear is just a conversation piece.

He says when he's going down the highway, the wind catches her left paw and makes it look like she's waving.

And the kids love her.

The Gunney and the Chief.

Be thankful ~

The deck

I might have mentioned recently that the guys—Ben and Mansquared—have been rebuilding the deck. It's the same shape, but it was rotting under our feet. Also, the original deck was built with nails rather than screws, and since the boards were warping, the nails were backing out, so you couldn't walk out there in bare feet without stepping on a nail head sticking up a half inch. So they're replacing all the decking and railings. Of course the week they have available to do this is the hottest week of the summer, but that hasn't stopped them. My job has been to keep them in ice water and Gatorade and sweet tea.

Here they are working on the main part.

That was yesterday. They finished all of that and left it with no rails. We've been trying to keep Pete off it, since we're not convinced he's smart enough not to run right off the edge, and it's a long way down.

Ben mentioned at one point that he wanted to build benches on two sides, and I kind of ignored it, figuring he knows what he's doing and it will look good no matter what he does. So this morning they were out there measuring and discussing and cutting and driving screws while I was distracted putting 50 pounds of squash and zucchini in the freezer. It got up to 107° today, but they kept at it.

When they came in, Ben told me to come out and take a look.

One entire side is this bench, 14 feet long, and there will be another one just like it on the opposite side.

I can't wait to see the whole thing finished!

Be thankful ~

Independence Day with Faith Baptist Church

Last night our church had the annual Fireworks Extravaganza plus dinner and church on the ground (literally). Every year the sons of the founding pastor (who live close to each other on a huge piece of property out in the country) and their families host the biggest shindig on the church calendar. Everyone shows up with food and drinks, Harris makes enough of his famous pulled pork barbecue to feed three or four hundred people, and we make a night of it. This year the near-100° heat threatened to put a damper on things, but there were just as many people there as I've ever seen.

Sweet little Hank was just too hot to play.

Setting up for church out of the back of a Jeep.

The eating was up at Steven's house, then church and the fireworks were down the hill at Carlton's house. 

Our new music director (in the blue shirt) goofing off.

Baby Isabelle, 3 or 4 weeks old.

After church on Carlton's lawn, we had to wait about 45 minutes for it to be dark enough for fireworks. 

The entire place was enveloped in a cloud of bug spray, and since Abbey is allergic and didn't want a case of hives, we went for a walk while we were waiting. We found this old barn, which I had to take a picture of. And in keeping with my mad photography skillz, I cut the peak off. And the sides. Yes, I'm that good.

Finally it was time for fireworks, and just to make sure I wouldn't screw it up, I read Darcy's annual how-to-photograph-fireworks post. I made sure all my camera settings were right and absolutely knew what I was doing.

However, there is no setting for user error, which showed up in every shot. I clicked too soon. I clicked too late.

I moved the camera. I cut off the spray.

Out of 100 pictures of fireworks, these were the only remotely salvageable ones. I have a long way to go.

But as always, Carlton's fireworks display was spectacular, as good as any professional show, and we were reminded throughout the evening how blessed we are to be Americans.

Be thankful ~

Look what I found!

It's been a while since I downloaded pictures off my camera, so when I finally did that today, I was surprised by what I found.

Two weeks ago after our girls' Monday night Bible study, Leah had the idea to do French clay masks. I have no idea what this is supposed to do for your skin other than make it impossible to talk while it's drying, but here we are.

Notice I am not in the picture. There are advantages to being the photographer. These were taken when the clay was still wet and they could smile. When mine was about halfway dry, Ben asked me a question and when I tried to answer him, I felt like my face was paralyzed. I couldn't move the tiniest muscle.

Then last Friday night we had some whopping storms here in Virginia, and in the dead of night we heard a loud crash that woke us up. It was pitch black outside and we don't have the outside lights hooked up because of all the construction that's going on, so we couldn't tell what had happened.

I laid in bed that night imagining the worst. Every gust of wind was an oak tree falling into my bedroom. Every creak was a poplar ready to snap and smash the deck right off the back of the house. Every branch that hit the roof was a gum tree flattening my car. When we got up the next morning, this was the view out my French doors.

Hardly the disaster area I imagined, but it made me glad I wasn't sitting outside enjoying my coffee when it fell.

And finally, the Project: Rebuild the Deck, Phase Two pictures I said I wasn't going to take. And we're not even having company today! Doesn't this look familiar? I think this is the third saw used on this project.

Yes, we are railing-less now. Pete is not allowed on the deck because I'm sure he would run right off the edge and it's a long way down. Mansquared is working on his tan and his appetite. And showing off his abs.

It's going to be beautiful when it's all done.

Be thankful ~

Mid-week update.

Last night I read this update from my daughter Deb, mother of Sticky Bean and Button, on facebook:

We were out in the garden just now and [Bean] picked a green tomato. I instructed him to only pick the red ones, green tomatoes aren't ripe and they taste yucky. He insisted that no mom, green tomatoes are so good! Being the brilliant mom I am, I said, "Ok, fine. Take a big bite of that green tomato." He did, and guess who wants to pick more green tomatoes for himself to eat? *Sigh* Should have just gone with "Do not pick green tomatoes. Ever."

I just love that boy. Three is such a fun age. They have their own little personalities and they're just so much fun to interact with. Of course, I'm not the one who has to convince him not to pick green tomatoes.

Also, we found out Sunday that our friends Dane and Brooke are expecting what we call a "reunion baby" next February. Dane is a Marine who recently got home from a deployment to Afghanistan. You can probably figure out why we call it a "reunion baby." ;)  They're just a little bit excited.

 In other news, Project: Rebuild the Deck is currently in phase two, having begun at 7 am on this hot and muggy Independence Day.  I would post a picture, but it would look just like every other picture I've ever posted of my deck because there's always some kind of rebuilding project going on out there. I'll try to get some action shots later when the sawdust is flying and the sweat is pouring. I know the anticipation is killing you.

 Be thankful ~