How to Interest Boys in Math...Almost Painlessly

If you want to get your boys excited about math - physics, even...just give them permission to build a trebuchet. They'll be on their math books like a duck on a June bug.

Take this advice at your own risk. 

I'm just sayin'. 

Blessings,

Technology Can Kiss My Grits...or...A Birthday Wishlist for an 11 Year Old Boy

My children know what Wii is only because we have cousins. Not a huge fan of video games myself, I was thrilled to get the following list from my almost-twelve-year-old son in advance of his special day:

Wish List
oxen (a matched pair)
compound bow
steel-toe boots
crosscut saw
froe
hand saw
comealong ratchet hoist
draw knife
wedges
auger
pry bar
level (a yard-long one)
twine
Maybe List
anvil
forge
steel post vise
hacksaw
blacksmith hammer
hardie
rounding swages
metal files
blacksmith tongs

I don't know what half these things are either, but I was informed by a reliable, almost-done-with-eleven source that I could learn from reading Back To Basics. As the song says, a country boy can survive...

Twins Birth Story - Part 4, the moral to the story...

 During my  last trimester carrying the twins, my girlfriends would sometimes drop by with gifts- paper plates, a jar of homemade soup, or even bread from the store, haleluYah. Each of them had the same pained expression on their face and they often had shimmery, teardrop-in-the-corner eyes when they asked how I was doing. Until I looked back at the pictures of myself at that time, I never understood the drama. I knew I was enormous, but didn't comprehend just how enormous. I remember that I could barely move myself, breathing was hard work and I had to eat almost constantly to get in enough calories. But it was all for a purpose.

My midwives over the years had taught me to forget all I had read about weight gain in pregnancy, to eat what they told me to eat, and forget the scale. The amount of weight didn't matter as long as I was taking in the right nutrients. This advice came in handy in my twin pregnancy. With twins, a large weight gain in the first two trimesters is of the utmost importance in having healthy birth weights for the babies (hindsight tells me that it also has to do with not being able to squeeze in much food in the last trimester). I didn't know I was expecting twins until (at twenty weeks) it was far too late to go back and put on large quantities of weight. This was one time that my habit of self-medicating morning sickness with carbs came in handy. Moral number one is eat like crazy all during the pregnancy. If you're just reading this in your third trimester, do your best with no fear of fatness...you'll never believe how fast all that weight comes off nursing two babies. I 'only' put on sixty-five pounds (out of the 60-80 that was recommended), and it was gone within ten weeks with no dieting. Eat, Momma, eat.

The other important thing I want to share about carrying twins is something that I had read before that just didn't seem to click in my brain. Assume you are in labor even if it doesn't feel like labor normally does for you. (Interpreted for first-time Mommas: just don't feel bad if you have several false alarms for labor.) I really did not believe I was in labor when I truly was. After naturally birthing as many times as I had before, I trusted in my instincts and experience...and I was wrong. That old uterus is so distended, it won't send signals the way it usually does. When in doubt, assume it is the real thing.

Not terribly exciting, but these are the things that I wish I had known (or known well enough to not feel guilty). Your mileage may vary.

Blessings,

Will Hug For Food: My Practical Method for Loving Touch With My Children

Growing up with Dad in prison, my Single-Without-A-High-School-Diploma Momma struggled to raise three children alone. As a means of survival, we often lived with relatives who resented our being in their homes. It was a recipe for a childhood without affection.

My Visionary will tell you that (although I am growing in grace) I am not one to accept or make excuses. My childhood is not an excuse, but it explains why I have to work harder at remembering to be physically affectionate with my children. For some reason, I never had this problem with my babies and toddlers - I would happily smother my Little Ones with smooches and cuddles. Cuteness is it's own reminder.

When kids got bigger and busier, not always under my feet or at my side, it was harder to remember. When boys began smelling, well...like boys, it took more effort. Scurrying around the house always with an agenda to keep my head above water, it wasn't naturally a high priority - like so many other things, I would have to learn to make myself do it for the sake of my children. Sick of trying and failing, trying and failing, I cried out to my Father for ideas... methods that would help me remember to give the gift of loving touch to my kids. This is when I happened upon "paying for meals'.

 At Family Meeting one week, I announced that I would be requiring everyone to pay for their meals from now on. Not before the Has-She-Lost-Her-Mind faces melted, I explained that each person would be required to 'pay' one hug to each other person at the table before they would be allowed to eat. The Big Kids coughed that Surely-You-Must-Be-Joking nervous chuckle as their faces revealed their thoughts. "You want me to hug him? Gulp."

Despite the uncertainty of the children and my own misgivings about whether this would be yet another great idea that fizzled before it took strong hold, it worked. Should a fly be on the wall  in our home at mealtime, he would likely have a quizzical expression on his face (and wonder where he left his earplugs) as he was bombarded with at least five children simultaneously hollering:

"Hugs!"            "Cod Liver Oil!"        "Hugs!"                  "Hugs!"               "Elderberry Syrup!"       "Hugs!"            "Cod Liver Oil!"            "Hugs!"             "Elderberry Syrup!"    "Hugs!"
"Elderberry Syrup!"                "Cod Liver Oil!"                                   "Hugs!"

These reminders began after woefully realizing that we had been forgetting, more often than not, our daily doses of cod liver oil and elderberry syrup. The first person to remind us at breakfast was bribed with a quarter. If your home is like ours, you can imagine the chaos and noise  exuberance of the reminders. The babies loved having anything to holler simultaneously without being shushed, so it stuck for every meal.   

We did eventually get better at remembering our 'medicines'. Each person is now receiving a minimum of 27 hugs every day (even more when Dad is home), which is medicine in it's own right. (Those concerned that children in large families are neglected could never comprehend this. I wonder how many hugs they get each day?) It carries over into the rest of the day, too. Walls have been broken down between siblings and I have noticed a distinct decrease in personal space prickliness. I am even able to remember to do this in exasperating moments, as Mary's method for keeping the good moments good has been a blessing not as difficult to do as it once would have been.

We have kept this up for four months now...I'm encouraged! Ignoring my personal plan to, once I have discernible, regular progress in any area, raise the bar, I just want to sit in this one in all it's perfect simplicity and soak it up for a while longer. Yahweh remembers we are dust, He cares about every little detail, and He doesn't expect us to be perfect...just obedient. We are allowed to use 'cheats', reminders or CliffsNotes to help us obey. He is not a hard taskmaster...simple obedience is enough.

Thank you Abba, for one more evidence of your grace.




Blessings,

Twins Birth Story, Part 3

My favorite midwife broke my water.  I looked again. It was still 5:10 p.m.

Encouraged that both babies were still in head-down position, I was still trembling because I did not feel emotionally ready. I braced myself as the contractions began hard and fast.  It was so odd to be so quickly in the heat of hard labor without the gradual build-up, that I was a little out-of-sorts. I was not convinced that my endorphin level was up to the same level as the contractions, because the labor was agonizing. In my mind I was still expecting the same type labor to which I was accustomed. I was not factoring in starting labor at 5 cm. dilation.

The room was filling rapidly. Sitting upright at the very end of the bed, I leaned back against Phil's chest, holding onto his legs for support. Sitting on mot much more than my tailbone, I felt that I was falling during the whole labor. Surrounding us were my two midwives, a nurse and a sweet lady OB who just stood there as backup, smiling and nodding approvingly. I wondered how she could smile at a time like this. The perimeter of the room was a stadium. There were nurses for each baby, an anesthesiologist-all there 'just in case'- and  other nurses who had heard what was happening and just wanted to watch. Normally a prude, I did not care that they were spectating.

I prayed with every breath. I was in my own world of pain and toil - no one else seemed to notice. The eyes around me were not reading the physical suffering inside. I wanted...needed...someone to do something. Couldn't anyone do anything to make this easier? Can't they see what's happening? An earthquake is happening inside me and no one is panicking. I was too deep into my labor to be able to communicate how much I needed help. In the midst of all these people, I was alone with my God. Every drop of air inhaled, every draft breathed out was a crying out to my Father. I lost track of whether I prayed aloud or silently, but I could hear Phil whispering prayer in my ear, in Hebrew, in English, in Hebrew, in English. The midwives kept speaking to me, but I no longer heard anything but Phil's voice. I must not have been completely silent, because I could see tears in the eyes of some of the spectators. Natural childbirth is unusual at this hospital, so they aren't used to seeing the pain of childbirth so raw.

"All-Compassionate One, shorten my suffering..."

Almost instantly I was in transition. No one checked, I just knew. My faith in myself was failing. I could not do this...what had I gotten myself into? Suffering had taken me to that beautiful place of surrender where I knew the only way I would survive was if my Father carried me through. Transition indeed.

I began pushing out the first baby. It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. Normally encouraged and strengthened by the thought that, "This is almost over", I had to force myself not to think about having to do this again momentarily. Blessedly, the pushing was uneventful. Digging deep to pull up strength greater than what you have...the ring of fire...the relief! Baby A was a girl!

The contractions stopped cold immediately. Baby A was whisked off to the other side of the room. She was beautiful and fat from afar. Six pounds, 12 ounces was incredible for a twin. I was relieved. The room was eerily still as we waited to see what would happen with Baby B. Second twins are famous for flipping freely once they have so much room in the womb, and becoming breech. Not a flicker of a contraction...not a word. After catching my breath from pushing, I looked around at the eyes. Meeting my midwife's eyes, she whispered, "Just rest", and smiled at me. After seven or eight minutes went by, the contractions began anew.

These contractions were harder. Baby B was not low in the womb like Baby A was. I had to work to get her into position, then to push her out. The pushing was easier...another girl! Seven pounds, six ounces...even better weight, and just as beautiful.

Twenty-three minutes had elapsed between Baby A and Baby B being born.

In the pause waiting for the contractions for the placentas to begin, we were all overwhelmed by the perfect, textbook twin birth. Relaxing some, I turned to the wall-sized window and noticed that it was darker. Well before sundown, I strained to see without my glasses that it was raining. Placid, rhythmic rain was the ending blessing on a beautiful birth. My midwife and I both produced a few tears. Even in the hospital, even in the crowd, peace was there because YHWH's spirit was there.

I sighed and muttered praise to my Father. It had been intense, but it was over. Really over. I had done it.  Both babies were head down, both babies were fat. I carried twins to full term and delivered them naturally. YHWH had been faithful to me.

I looked at the clock. It read 6:20 p.m. Seventy minutes ago I was convinced I was not in labor.

"All-Compassionate One, shorten my suffering..."

Faithful indeed.

This is Part 3 of a 3-part series.

You may read Part 2 here.

Part 1 is here.





I will be posting one more installment in this story to help other twin Mommas find information and to give the advice I wish I had been given - a sort of 'moral to the story' post.


Blessings,

Twins Birth Story, Part 2

The miracle was that I made it through the week. It was a blur of resting and counting contractions, fighting for any minutes of sleep around the clock. The dress washing-cycle also continued. For months I was down to two outfits that fit, one to wash and one to wear, over and over. Friday arrived again, with Phil home and another midwife appointment looming.

Unsure of whether I was more frightened at the prospect of beginning labor so fatigued or having to continue carrying these babes another day, we headed to town. Again I planned to not return home until I had my babes in arms. I just hoped my midwife would be in agreement.

At the 11:00 a.m. appointment I was found to be 5 cm. dilated, reconfirming my assessment that some of those contractions with which I had been dealing all month were not-your-average-false-labor-contractions. Deep relief filled me as my midwife assured me that I could not go "all the way home" in this condition, and that my babies would be born today. She stripped my membranes, gave me specific instructions for black cohosh dosage over the next few hours, then sent Phil and I out shopping to keep me walking while waiting for labor to begin. In what I discovered later to be foreshadowing, we were strictly instructed not to go more than 10 minutes from the hospital. If nothing was happening, we were to report back to her at 4:00 p.m.

It was mid-August, the temperature was in the upper 90's, and the humidity was 85% even though it had not rained in weeks. We dropped by my favorite thrift store, ran a few errands, then went to lunch at one of those fancy grocery store cafes. Far too many choices at the grocery store left me walking lumbering around in circles. I kept stopping because the contractions were too difficult to walk through. This was the same type contraction I had been having for a month; they felt the same, acted the same, lasted as long. Even though I was used to folks looking at me too much  (because I had been e-nor-mous for months), as discreet as I was trying to be, it was still drawing too much attention in the form of weird looks from other shoppers. I was convinced by the contractions that I was not yet in labor, but the emotional signposts were concerning me. (My midwives had taught me during other births to read those as much as the physical symptoms.) I was at that point where I did not want anyone looking at me anymore. I wanted to be alone.

After taking our sweet time sitting to eat - I was stalling because I did not want to have to walk anymore - we opted to go back to see the midwife again, an hour earlier than she had instructed. Still at 5 cm., she stripped my membranes one more time, then left me with instructions to take a nap while she went to a phone conference. I 'rested' as best a whale could atop a doctor's exam table with slippery paper with nary a contraction for an hour. I prayed as much as I could remember of The Childbirth Prayer, reciting especially the line, "All-Compassionate One, shorten my suffering."

After the meeting, both midwives were able to give me their full attention, and not wanting to miss a chance at adding another twin birth to their experience, stayed with me. I continued to argue that I was not in labor because I only had contractions if I was sitting in a certain upright position. I could get them to stop by lying down, which had always been a test of true labor in all my experience before. They all, both midwives and Phil, encouraged me to go to Labor & Delivery and allow them to break my water so we could meet these babies. My fear was beginning a long labor as drained as I was.  Exhausted, I gave in.

In the delivery room, I asked for a few minutes of privacy so Phil and I could pray alone together. Phil prayed over me, I took a deep breath, and the midwives came in. I glanced at the wall clock which would dishearten and encourage me in turns. It read 5:10 p.m.


You may read Part 1 here.

Part 3 is here.


Blessings,

Twins Birth Story, Part 1

I had seven children when an unusually early positive pregnancy test led me to discover I was expecting again. These pregnancies were closer together than the last few had been, so we were surprised. Extreme morning sickness did not give it away, but my measuring exceptionally large for dates led us to an ultrasound at twenty weeks. Earlier parts of the story are chronicled here, here, here and here.

From the time we knew we were expecting twins, my midwife and OB told me that our ultimate goal was to keep these babies in the womb until 37 weeks gestation. Our first goal was to make it to 32 weeks, then "we would be grateful for every extra week".

I made it. It was early on a Friday morning, Mr. Visionary's day to work at home. I was 37 weeks pregnant, and was prepared to go to my midwife appointment and hear her say that it was "time".  At the appointment, she said that I was fully effaced and measuring 4 cm. dilation. I was prepared for a little herbal cocktail and possibly having her strip my membranes to get labor going. I fully expected to not return home until I had two babes-in-arms, but it was not to be. My midwife did not have a peace about beginning labor yet, so I was sent home to wait, "but I expect those babies to come this weekend".

I called my Mom, who hoped be around when I had the babies and told her to listen out for a call. She lives eight hours away, so instead of waiting, she secretly hopped in the car.

My hormone levels had to be off the charts, as I could hardly go an hour without crying. Miserably uncomfortable in any possible position (my fundal height was measuring 53 cm.), I could not sleep. The disappointment of waiting for the big day to come only to have to wait longer was more than I could bear. I was a basket case. I spent the afternoon crying and trying to nap until my midwife called. Phil must have told her how I was doing, because she tenderly gave me "permission" to have my babies whenever I was ready. She let me know that I had done well - that I could now let my body do whatever it needed to without worrying that it was too soon. She reassured me by mentioning who was on call that weekend, and simply spoke comfortingly to me.

I hadn't realized that I wanted "permission", but I relaxed greatly after hearing it.  If you have never experienced the care of a midwife before, you do not know what you are missing. They truly understand the whole picture of a pregnant woman and can minister more effectively by taking emotions and family dynamics into account in a way that an OB simply does not even have time for. I was blessed by her call.

The Wallers were in town, staying at my girlfriend's farm and having a Rosh Chodesh gathering that night. I had made no plans to go, thinking I'd be in labor, but somehow I was talked into getting some food together and going. Ugh. It was a hot, sticky August night in the South. We sat around a pond where I fretted all night about my one-year-old getting too close to the water while I was too whale-like to run after her. I was so hot, uncomfortable and downright miserable I cried the whole way home.

I spent the next day, Sabbath, praying for a way to be able to make it with Phil at work the next week and begging Phil to help me find a way. I was thinking I could go into labor at any moment, but that if I did not, there was no way I was going to be able to care for the children and myself alone. I was already fretting about how I was going to get to the hospital in time and get someone here to be with the children. I have a history of precipitous labors, and we live 40 minutes from the hospital, so to this day I still believe some of the fretting was valid.

My Mom was in town for my seventh birth (she even got to be at the birth), but had to leave that day. She had never been around for a birth before that, so I was not expecting any miracles on that front, but one came anyway. Monday morning she came over to be with the children and me and stayed the whole week! I believed my Heavenly Father pulled that one out of thin air because it was not even a remote hope of mine. I was so relieved!

Late Monday night when Mr. Visionary brought in the mail, there was a letter from a lady who had read in the Samaritan Ministries Prayer Guide that we were expecting twins this month. After reading that she had twins herself that she (no doubt to encourage me) conspicuously mentioned carrying to 41 weeks, I broke down in loud, heaving sobs and eventually cried myself to sleep.


You may read Part 2 here.

Part 3 is here. 


Blessings,

What Was I Thinking?

I was sitting in a hard chair in the middle of my kitchen, staring stupidly at a jar of relish in my hand. I stumbled there when a glance at the hand-written date scribbled atop the canning jar left me dumbfounded. What could I possibly have been thinking? The Sharpie marker's lines did not lie. The date on the jar revealed that I had made Watermelon Rind Relish (of all things) just a couple of weeks before I delivered the twins. Not believing my eyes, I simply sat there, trying to remember what had possessed me at the time.

I remember a friend had given us some watermelons. Maybe as a gesture of thankfulness I wanted to show that we didn't take the gift for granted and wanted to use up every bit. Maybe I was panicking about how we would feed all these children and wanting to put at least something aside for later. More likely I was prideful and wanted to either show off how frugal I was (this kind of relish or pickle is made with the rinds- the part that we would normally throw away) or that I could still manage to do things like that while pregnant with twins. I cannot know now, I no longer remember. What I do remember is that I was on bedrest, almost nine months pregnant with twins. I was allowed two hours up to manage life in between every other two hours being horizontal. The fact that making and canning this ridiculous relish was how I chose to spend my precious two hours up makes me sick.

How I wish this was a random act of idiocy on my part. Sadly, it is all too often the way I in particular, and we women in general walk through life. Making foolish choices that have no value in eternity while neglecting the better things that will be investments in the Time to Come has been my modus opperandi . Father, could you save me from myself, please?

I love one-subject notebooks and use them daily for lists and those thousand things I write down to clear brain space. As I was spiffying my desk the other day, I was purging old lists from my notebooks, ripping and discarding page after page of To-Do Lists. Glancing over the lists was humbling as I saw time and time again how they each had far too much unnecessary activity.  Evaluating item after item on the lists I found myself again wondering incredulously, 'What was I thinking?' Why did I think I needed to do X and Y with a husband, home and nine children to care for? Who's big fat idea was it to add this to my list?

The reason for each thing may have been the same or I could have had some different excuse reason each time. Who knows? I have an educated guess based on my past performances that there was sin involved in each decision to add excess stuff-to-do on my lists. Pride, Fear of Man and Unbelief by not trusting my Father to take care of my needs have all been major players in the past. Whatever the reasons have been, I have to choose to walk differently these days. The fruit of this lifestyle is stress and bitterness because life does not work out the way I plan it and the things on the list never get done. I remember that the children helped me make the relish, but knowing that we only had a two hour window to pull it off explains how I know it could not have been fun. The relish turned out to be really yucky, too.

May our Father give us the grace to know when to just have a picnic and feed the watermelon rinds to the cows... figuratively for you, but literally for me.

So What Do You Do When You’re Living In Limbo?

Our current listing agreement for selling our house ends today. It has now been two years since we first put our home on the market and, like most things in life, I could not have foreseen it taking this long. (For those who are new here, we are selling our home to get out of debt, then to pursue a ministry opportunity in Israel.) It is a weird place of limbo we are in - trying to purge and downsize to be ready for a move, but still having to function in the life we are in now. I have regretted several things that have succumbed to our purging while other things bought for our new life are collecting dust. My home does not even look homey to me, as I have gotten rid of anything extra that I could, and it looks lonely and bare.

Our tax assessment lost $40K in this last year, tempting us to freak out because we will only purchase with cash from here on out. Assuming the selling price is affected, that $40K just cost us greatly. I said tempted because we have not freaked out yet, but you cannot trust that ol' flesh, you know. It simply means that we will end up living in the bus longer than planned and likely be able to afford only an earth bag house when all is said and done. Mr. Visionary and the children are thrilled about this option and go around calling us the Dirt Bag Family. Me? I flip-flop between terror and adventurous enthusiasm about living in the bus with eleven of us and I still cannot figure out how the earth bag house won't be full of mildew. (I don't get how wool diaper covers work, either, but I love them, so we'll see.)

Our future plans seem very far away and I spend a lot of time asking Father about what we should be doing now. It appears to be a season for preparation in some way, but in what way? We have the last of our cows sold or in the freezer, the goats and chickens have been gone for some time now and I cut off the electricity at the barn. Lots of closure.

Our home fellowship has all but disbanded, so we have our Shabbats free to spend praying and studying as a family, which is good and bad. The busyness of hosting the group kept us from having time to think about our future too much, but our newly quiet Shabbats have stirred the questions awake again.

Do we list the house again, or wait until Spring? Is YHWH limited to the "good season for selling"? Do we make it For Sale By Owner, or find another realtor? Our old realtor marketed it as a gentleman's estate, but we think it should be marketed as a home for a large family. (How else do you show a house with eleven people living in it?)

What do we do, Father?

How many, many times we have repented and grieved over ever getting a mortgage! We truly are in bondage - not free to go where He calls when He calls.  He will redeem even this situation to grow us and to bring glory to Himself, for sure...but the regret is painful. Praise YHWH that His mercies are new every morning.

I'm just sayin'...I don't have any answers for what to do while living in limbo, except to continue to seek His face and thank Him for this season. The While I'm Waiting song from Fireproof has been on our lips during this season, but even that is a partial answer. "I will worship while I'm waiting, I will serve You while I'm waiting"...can still be personalized into specific answers to specific questions, but I suspect that the answers to what we should do during this season will only be apparent after the season is over and we're looking back. Hindsight, you know.

Making Lacto-Fermented Salsa (with Recipe!)

A few days back, Amy asked us to post our lacto-fermented salsa recipe. We use the basic outline of the recipe from Nourishing Traditions and tweak it a bit based on which fresh ingredients we have available at the time. Sometimes it has more bell peppers than other times, sometimes it has cilantro, sometimes not. We have found though, that a key to making it really yummy is to dice the veggies very small, so that you get a blending of all the flavors in each bite. The following recipe is for making one quart, but the process of skinning the tomatoes dirties a lot of dishes in our opinion, so we don't bother making less than a dozen quarts at a time. (More bang for the same amount of mess, you know.) The real key to deciding how much to make is how much refrigerator space you have, because that is where the salsa will live after fermenting, not in the pantry.

4 medium tomatoes, peeled, seeded and diced (you want about three cups worth)

2 small onions, finely chopped

finely chopped bell peppers of any color to taste (we use roughly 1/4 of a pepper per quart)

6-8 cloves fresh garlic, peeled and minced

1/4  bunch cilantro, chopped

1/4 cup lemon juice

1 Tablespoon sea salt (Do not skimp here! This is the key to getting the bad bacteria to not grow while waiting for the lactic acid preservation to complete!)

4 Tablespoons whey (not powdered, use only the real stuff - you know, the watery stuff that is sometimes in yogurt) [Note: if you don't have this available, use an additional 1 Tablespoon of sea salt, for a total of 2 Tbsp. per quart]

filtered water

Optional: Finely chopped hot peppers to taste. We have used jalapenos, chilies, etc. Use what you have available, and go easy until you see how the peppers react to lacto-fermenting. Some seem to get spicier.

Here's what you do:

Peel the tomatoes. (Google instructions if you have never done it before.) Chop all the veggies, then mix all veggies into a large bowl along with the lemon juice. We then fill each jar with the veggie and lemon juice mixture, leaving a full 1.5 inch headspace above the tops of the veggies. Smush the veggies down lightly with something non-metal  (your fingers, a wooden spoon, a plastic spatula, etc.). On the top of the veggie mixture, add your sea salt, whey (remember: extra salt if you don't have this), and filtered water to bring the total volume up to 1 inch below the top of your jar. (Tip: Often you will not need to add any water; the volume will already be high enough.) Cover the jar tightly and shake until the sea salt is dissolved and thouhroughly incorporated into the jar contents. Set them on the counter, and leave at room temperature for about 48 hours. When the time is up, transfer jars to cold storage(i.e. your fridge). Try them after they are cool! The flavors will blend more, and mature after more time in cold storage, but this salsa is also delicious immediately!

Now, go get some Green Mountain Gringo chips (or make your own if you are ambitious) and dig in!

Also, I just came across this other recipe for Lacto-Fermented Salsa last week.

Enjoy!

Twin Pictures Finally!

It seems I have chosen the most counter-intuitive moment to post pictures of the babies. I am swamped with preparations to get to our homeschool convention tomorrow: finishing my shopping lists, getting the house and meals ready for the sabbath, getting the big kids ready for an outing with Grandma while I am doing convention, and packing the equivalent of twelve suitcases worth of diapers and clothes changes into the diaper bag for the twins' doing convention. But, I know that coming home with billions of new school books and lessons to prepare will not leave me any extra time, and knowing that I can pack the diaper bag while the pictures upload means now is the time, intuitive or not.

My template does not like words and pictures intermingled, so I will list the captions here:

1) Sweetie, formerly known as 'Baby A'. Six teeth and a smidge of curly hair. 22 1/2 lbs of pure bulldog. We call her 'Truck', as she isn't concerned with obstacles - even if the obstacle is her sister.

2) Honey, formerly known as 'Baby B'. Two teeth with just a sprinkling of peach fuzz. 22 lbs and a good fake fusser. We call her the Drama Queen.

3) Sisterly affection.

4) Morning cuteness.

5) Camera Schmamera. Can you put that thing down and help me, please? (He really is much happier in real life than he ever looks in pictures.)

P.S. I forgot to tell you that the girls are 9 months old now!

So She Comes Back…

I never intended to stop blogging. I just never could seem to get back to it. Life kept going. Little People needed loving, Big People needed it too, and there were always mouths to feed, faces to wash, chores to do...the details of life to see to. The thing about blogging, is that thankfully, the blog does not holler if you forget to feed it. The new fish in our house does not, either, which is why I suspect his days are numbered.

I actually never did stop blogging totally. I just never wrote it down. I often blog in my head as I go through the days. I silently mull over what things I would say to no one in particular if there were ever an arena to articulate them.  Most of the time what I would say is just complaining anyway, so I skip the leaving evidence writing it down part on purpose. I also  struggled with the question of audience in blogging. Who exactly is reading this and who exactly am I writing this for? The less I know about who is reading, the better off I imagine myself to be, that way I am not worrying who I will offend or what So-And-So will think of what I write. Regarding who it is for...well, while I would like to say very assuredly that I am writing this for 'the Lord', I suspect that it is really just for me. I usually feel better after writing things down, and for now, I am OK with that being the only reason.

A few months ago, after I was once again lamenting that I can never get everything done, a friend lectured exhorted me that there is always ample time in the day to everything 'that the Lord really wants (me) to do'. Ever eager (unfortunately) to latch on to a dose of condemnation and guilt, I saw this advice and raised it a bit. My self-imposed rules for what needed to be done before I could ____ (blog, paint my toenails, sit still and quiet for five minutes, etc.) never left any room for anything fun whatsoever. After finally (why did I not think of this sooner?) consulting Mr. Visionary about the question of blogging, we discussed how the To-Do List never ends and that my work could conceivably never be done. His advice? Blog anyway.

The truth is, there really are a few folks whom I really do like to have read here. Our schedule is so hectic, and I see Mr. Visionary so little four days out of the week, that I really like it when he catches up on my blog sometimes and then wants to discuss something I wrote. A post Holly put up a few days ago reminded me of the other audience I especially love - my children. I thought about how wonderful it will be for her children to look back at that video (and that post). The things you want to say do not always get said in the hustle and bustle of normal days in a large family. I want my children to be able to look at this (online now, but on paper years from now) and see what my thoughts were toward them. I suspect that there are parts of our life now -especially my thoughts toward them- that they just will not fully understand until they are Mommas and Daddies themselves.

So, without further long, drawn-out explanation, I'm back. I hope to be able to pop in more often now. And I'll be sure to give you an update on the family, the happenings, and  all the luscious baby chub around here!

It is perfectly alright to say, "Well I was wondering where you were!" And if you're reading this on Bloglines, I updated the sidebar finally - come see.

‘Tis The Season

This is the season that several years ago, changed our lives forever. To be more precise, it was hindsight during the aftermath of this season that spurred our changing. In the midst of looking back over that recent 'celebration' of Christmas, we were led to go back to square one and determine the exact nature of our priorities and examine why we were doing what we had been doing.

As much as in years past, this kind of statement would make me roll my eyes and sigh with irritation at folks who did the same, our examination led us to completely revamp our celebrations of our Saviour's birth. We no longer observe Christmas, even though at one time I snickered at my impression of others who did not, assured that they were sanctimoniously "holier than thou". I was sure folks were making too big a deal of small issues and were highly uptight. Oh brother.

I'll not go into all the reasons why we no longer observe Christmas, but will instead share a few links that intrigued us in the beginning of our journey back to the beginning. Those that are interested may study further and those that are not can go on without feeling judged. I do not begrudge anyone else celebrating Christmas - it is definitely a personal decision - but I wanted to share because I was glad to have my eyes opened to what I was doing, and how it appeared to Yahweh. There may be someone else who will one day be glad I shared.

Assuming that they do not care enough to ask, it hurts our feelings some that close family members have never asked about our reasons for changing our practices.  But should you wonder, we still celebrate the birth of our Saviour, but now it is during the Feast of Tabernacles when the Word became flesh and tabernacled among us. We also now celebrate His conception during Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights (the biblical Feast of Dedication), because Yeshua is the Light of the World. We praise Yahweh for Yeshua's birth, life, death and resurrection all through the year as well.

From our Torah Class studies by Tom Bradford, here is a short message that may help anyone who is wanting to dig a little deeper. It will at least give you some stuff to Google. Blessings!

Hanukkah Is For Christians (text file)

Hanukkah Is For Christians (MP3 file -about 30 minutes)

Nursing Mommas and Dietary Oils

I was asked by a friend (several weeks ago - blush) about hydrogenated oils, and why I avoid them especially when nursing. Her comments were:

Since I read your follow-up to my comment on your twins I have been researching hydrogenated oils and their effect on breast milk and our bodies. I guess this is a little new to me as I haven’t really thought or heard much about this before, but I am very glad you brought it to my attention. (I am kind of ashamed that I haven’t been awakened to it sooner as I try to be reasonably attuned to our nutritional needs, but I don’t normally do a lot of researching in this area). I intend to make some changes right away. I think it will be tough in some ways, though…I mean, we go through a LOT of peanut butter and I don’t know if it is reasonable to think that we could just start making our own since we don’t even have the equipment to do so…(what do you do? Do you have a grain mill and an attachment to make your own p-nut butter?) What do you use for cooking oils? I read here that canola, corn, and safflower oils should be avoided, so I am curious about how you do it and would appreciate your input to help me get started, when you have time. Do you use coconut oil? I purchase 50# pails of it for my soap making business, but have never once used it for cooking (although it is food grade). Do you use lard in place of shortening? Do you make your own bread, and if so, what do you use for the oil? We actually sell a lot of honey wheat bread since my oldest dd has gotten quite proficient at it, and we took it to sell at our local farm market every Saturday this summer. I’m realizing that perhaps my baby’s birth weight was noticeably lower so that I would come to learn about this nutritional concern for our family. But if you have any links to share or helpful info, esp. on how you do it. I’d love to hear it!

I kept putting off answering this until I had some time to do a little research and post links, etc., but  realize that may not happen for some time still. But it is an interesting subject to Google should you be interested, and anyone can do it (Google stuff, that is). The basic gist is that hydrogenated oils, partially hydrogenated oils and trans fats all have a deleterious effect on breastmilk - production and the actual constitution of the milk.

What I'll do instead is just answer the basic questions and share our experience.  :)

When I first started learning about oils, which ones are health-supporting and which ones are not, I could not afford to just change everything we did overnight. Firstly, I did not know how, secondly, it would cost too much and be wasteful of what we had on hand. So, like every other change we made in our diet and lifestyle, when something ran out, we replaced it with something better... never to go back except in an emergency. When the canola oil ran out, (that the media had told me was so good for us), I bought extra virgin olive oil. When the margarine was gone, I started buying real butter and have not looked back.

It was more expensive to replace the bad stuff with the good stuff, but we squeezed money from somewhere else to make it work. We purposely canceled our health insurance policy and used the money to add to our grocery budget and to learn about our health. We also changed around how we shopped by buying in huge quantities in order to save more money to put into healthier ingredients.

Now, we only use three main things as oils for cooking. I use extra virgin olive oil for anything raw like mayonnaise or salad dressings (because it is unstable when heated). I use coconut oil and butter for cooked foods. Coconut oil is very stable at high temperatures, so it is what I use for anything fried. I also use coconut oil for most things that call for shortening. Pie crusts turn out best for me with butter, though. I buy the coconut oil in 5 gallon buckets, too. With grocery prices going up so much recently, I stepped back to expeller-pressed coconut oil (a lot cheaper) instead of the virgin coconut oil that I had been buying, because it was going to overly stress my grocery budget. I purchase butter 36 pounds at a time from a local food co-op.

We do not use lard (pork fat) at all because it is not part of what YHWH has called food for us. Trust and obey... for there is no other way, right?

We make our own bread (gotta love that Zojirushi!) and use either butter or coconut oil in our bread recipe. The coconut oil seems to make the bread keep a bit longer, too.

Peanut butter is a tough one. We use it a ton, too, but I do not think I have it in me at this time to actually make it. (I have to be honest and admit that it never crossed my mind before.) Too many other irons in the fire, I guess. What we have done in the past is buy 5 pound containers of peanut butter whose only ingredients are peanuts and salt from our food co-op. That is a great plan if you really want to cut back on usage, because it does not taste as good (at least to us). A better plan that actually works out to be very close in cost is to buy Smuckers brand natural peanut butter from the grocery store. If you have a Trader Joes nearby, they also have a good price on healthy peanut butter. If the cost is still an issue, spread really thin.  :)

[EDIT: Be sure to check the comments below, where Amy tells us how she makes peanut butter from scratch with just a food processor!]

So, I hope that helps. I'd be happy to help with more questions, too, if you need!

Twins, Anyone?

Just wanted to share a couple of fun pictures of twins holding twins. Too bad the age difference is too large to arrange (or encourage) a marriage.



Caleb Waller (with the hat) is holding our Sweetie and Josh - his twin, is holding her twin, Honey.



The proud future in-laws parents, Mr. Visionary & Me, and Tommy & Sherri Waller and both our sets of twins

On a side, but related note, if you have ever wondered what could increase your "odds" (otherwise known as the observed past working of Yahweh) of conceiving twins, I think I'm on to something.  For a minor health issue, I had been taking an herb called Chaste Tree Berry  (Vitex agnus-castus) the few weeks before I found out I was expecting. I had asked my midwife for a recommendation, without checking into it myself (very odd for me).

In a new herb book (Prescription For Herbal Healing by Phyllis A. Balch) that I got during this pregnancy, I recently looked up this herb just out of curiosity, and found this:

"Women of reproductive age must use vitex with caution, since it has been known to stimulate the release of multiple eggs from the ovary, potentially resulting in multiple births."

So now we know. Yahweh still uses means.

*Kosher* Holiday Cooking With Gelatin

Thanksgiving is upon us, and we love to get together with our extended family and feast, feast, feast. It is a great time for us to get together without the tension that can be a part of celebrations with relatives that are not believers. Somehow, the thankfulness that wells up in hearts on this day breaks down walls and allows conversations that would not normally occur. We discuss our hopes and dreams, reminisce over our growing up years and talk about what the future may hold for us and our children. We list our blessings,  acknowledging that for which we are thankful.  Most importantly, we openly discuss to whom we are thankful.

We love to have our favorite recipes, passed down from the Grandmas and passed across from special friends, but since we have had a change of heart regarding Yah's Word in the last few years, some of the recipes are just not acceptable anymore. In our efforts to avoid pork (among other things that Yah does not call food), we felt led to eliminate some of our old favorites that contained pork by-products like gelatin and marshmallows. Our family agreed to exalt no euphoric recall, longing for what we left behind in Egypt, but to be thankful for what we still have. We did this for several years until one day I had an epiphany. (Hey, it can happen.)



Since the children (and the Mommy) have missed a certain congealed Jell-O salad that Grandma used to make, I was determined to discover a way to make it without having to use Jell-O (99% of gelatin produced in the U.S. is made from pork skin). I got 100% beef gelatin (available at health food stores or online - try NOW brand), and brainstormed how to get it to taste fruity. My first ideas were using fruit juice, but they just didn't have the same flavor we were used to. Then the Kool-Aid idea hit me! I would use Kool-Aid as the liquid! Eureka!

So, without further adieu, I bring you the before and after versions of Grandma's Mandarin Orange Salad...

The Before version required: 1- 6 oz. package orange Jell-O, but the new version has Kool-Aid and bulk (plain) beef gelatin substituted.

Mandarin Orange Congealed Salad

One  0.15 oz. package orange-flavored Kool-Aid (unsweetened)

1 cup sugar

1 quart cool water

2 Tablespoons bulk beef gelatin

1 - 8 oz. package cream cheese, softened

2 - 10 oz. cans mandarin oranges

6 oz. Cool Whip or real whipped cream

1 cup small curd cottage cheese

Mix package of Kool-Aid powder with 1 cup sugar and 1 quart of cold water. (Note: This is only half the amount of water called for in making Kool-Aid as a beverage.)

Take 1 cup of the Kool-Aid mixture and dissolve the gelatin into it. Let sit for five minutes.

Boil the other 3 cups of the Kool-Aid mixture, then stir it into the cold gelatin/Kool-Aid mixture until all the gelatin is completely dissolved.

Add the cream cheese to the hot gelatin mixture, stirring until the cream cheese is melted.

Chill until slightly thickened.

Drain the oranges.

Fold  Cool Whip or whipped cream, cottage cheese and drained oranges into the gelatin mixture.

Pour into 9X13" pan. Chill until set.

Serves 8-10.

Notes:

• Folks always ask , "Doesn't this taste like beef since you use beef gelatin?" No. No more than other gelatin tastes like pork. It tastes like nothing when it is plain.
• We skip the Cool Whip because I think it is yucky, and I want to save our real cream for whipped cream on the pumpkin pie! This recipe turns out equally well with or without the Cool Whip.
• Yes, it does have artificial colors, white sugar and pasteurized dairy, but for special occasions we break most of the rules. I certainly would not recommend making a habit of this recipe. But it is yummy, and it reminds us of Grandma!
• If you want to convert other gelatin recipes, the ratio to use is 1/4 oz. of gelatin will congeal 2 cups of liquid. I weighed this out, and found the 1/4 oz. to equal about two teaspoons. So, for normal gelatin recipes, 1 teaspoon of gelatin will congeal one cup of liquid. 
• It is also pretty poured into a bundt pan or gelatin mold to make a special presentation.

One more thing: I don't care about eating "kosher". Whether some rabbi declared something to be acceptable or not, matters little to me. I do care very much, however, that I am obeying my Father and staying within the confines of that which Yahweh has called food.

That is why I avoid the pork gelatin. Kosher-Schmosher.
Enjoy! And Happy Thanksgiving!

Sweet Home Jerusalem

This will not appeal to everyone, but then again, neither do I, so it works to post it here. As a Southern girl, and one who prays for the peace of Jerusalem, this really hit the spot. Who knew a Skynyrd tune could be redeemed in such a cool way? I like it. HT: Lillian

Lyrics (to the tune of Sweet Home Alabama):

Eagles wings keep on flyin'
Carry me home to see The King
Singing songs about my City,
Jerusalem you're in my dreams
And I'm gonna sing, yes. (RIFF)

Well I heard the UN talk about her
But a Jewish boy won't drink this brew
Uncle Sam please remember, that
"Jerusalem won't be split in two!"

Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
L-rd I'm coming home to you.

We're all waiting for Mashiach (OOH OOH OOH)
You can bet he's coming soon
We'll all be dancing in Jerusalem
And we'll all be singing the same tune
Now that's the truth

Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
L-rd I'm coming home to you.

(SOLOS)


The wise men of the Holy City
They've been known to pick a song or two
They help my soul when I'm hurting
They give me joy when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?

Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
L-rd I'm coming home to you.

Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home, Sweet Jerusalem
L-rd I'm coming home to you.

Paper or Plastic? Definitely Plastic…

Because it is just so versatile:







Plastic grocery bag... $0.00

4 yards of lavender yarn bought at a yard sale... $0.01

Your five-year-old saying, "Mommy I made this kite all by myself!"... priceless.

Eating Fresh On A Two-Week Grocery Plan

When folks hear that I do our grocery shopping every six to eight weeks, they are often flabbergasted.  Without exception, their first gasping question is always, "How do you have fresh produce?", as if it were the Holy Grail of feeding a family. Granted, fresh produce is very healthy for us. Even conventionally grown, non-organic, pesticide-laden produce has produced good results in scientific studies. It is what was used in all the studies showing that eating enough fresh fruits and vegetables can help reduce risks of cancer and other disease. (Remember Five-A-Day?)

While I concede that the ideal situation would be to live in the garden of Eden, or as a distant second, to have our own backyard gardens with seasonal produce ripe for the harvesting four seasons of the year, ideals are rarely reality. Having our own garden supply all our produce needs for the year is our goal, but we are not there yet, and something must be done in the mean time.

Although I am about to share my plan for how to eat fresh produce without living at the grocery store, I would like to state for the record that having fresh produce all year 'round is not an inalienable right. It is simply a blessing that we have in this country - a blessing for which I am grateful.

On to the plan. Every six to eight weeks, depending on how much is going on in life, or how much company we have had, we do our stock-up grocery shopping trip. This is where I refill the pantry and freezer with any frozen fruits and vegetables and shelf-stable items like canned goods. Once a month our health food co-op delivers our meats, grains, beans and baking supplies. That just leaves the fresh produce to pick up every two weeks, which for us, looks like Mr. Visionary making a stop on his way home from work.

We shop this way because it keeps us out of the stores more (so no impulse buying), it saves trips to town (so saving time, gas and stress) and it forces frugality (we make do with what we have on hand). It is not brilliant, it is just a fruit of planning ahead.

During the first week, we focus on the fresh produce that goes bad the fastest. This is the time to eat lettuce and bananas. During the second week, we focus on the fresh things that keep a bit longer like apples and carrots.  We rotate the produce we eat seasonally, to take advantage of what is in abundant supply and cheaper during each season. That means we rarely eat fresh tomatoes and watermelon in January (they taste yucky then anyway), but instead focus on the citrus fruits, leafy greens and root vegetables that are in season. We only have pomegranates in October and November, but enjoy them fully and often while they are in season and actually affordable. Two great books that discuss eating this way are Simply In Season and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle .

Week One Produce:

Lettuces, berries, avocados, pomegranate, bananas, peaches, tomatoes, pineapple, spinach, pears, kiwi, etc.

Week Two Produce:

Carrots, celery, potatoes, cabbage, green peppers, apples, oranges, sweet potatoes, beets, turnips, refrigerated bananas (put them in the fridge during week one- they will turn black on the outside, but still be white and fresh on the inside), leafy greens like collards and kale, and romaine lettuce usually keeps well in the second week, too.

Week two can also be supplemented with frozen fruits, since they are not blanched, and are still raw. We use frozen fruit in smoothies and mixed in our yogurt. The children also like frozen banana slices with peanut butter on top as an afternoon snack.

Both weeks we supplement with lots of lacto-fermented vegetables, which are not 'fresh', but they are raw. Each week can also be supplemented with fresh sprouts grown on your kitchen counter. Alfalfa sprouts, while popular, are not good for you, so we like to make mung bean sprouts (the kind used in oriental food a lot). My kids love these lightly sauteed in butter with a sprinkle of soy sauce. They are crunchy, yummy...and fresh.

So, that is how we do it. My goal as a Mommy Chef is to serve something fresh or raw three times a day, and this is the best way I have come up with to pull it off so far. If you have other tips, I'd love to hear them!

Free Health Books

I came across these books online several months ago, but unfortunately didn't print them, then the link where I found them went bad. They are available as free downloads, and this time, I really will print them. I'm sharing the link in case you could use them, too. We never can tell when they may be necessary.

Where There Is No Doctor
Where Women Have No Doctor
A Book for Midwives
Where There Is No Dentist