The latest posts from Paratus Familia Blog
Often during our afternoon tea, we simply sip on a hot cuppa and forego tea-treats altogether. Occasionally I have cookies available for a nibble but every once in a while I take the time to make a real, honest-to-goodness delicacy to accompany our tea time. These Cheesecake Cookie Cups definitely fit the bill of a tea time delicacy!
The recipe is simple and remarkably quick. The original recipe makes 16 cheesecakes however I easily made 20 and could have scrimped on cookie dough and made 24. They are adaptable to whatever fruit is in season (or what you have canned on the shelf) and are even good served plain, with no berries at all.
And so, for your tea time pleasure.....
Cheesecake Cookie Cups
For the Cups
3/4 C butter
1 C sugar
2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 C flour
1 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. cornstarch
For the Cheesecake
12 oz. cream cheese, room temperature
1 3/4 C powdered sugar
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Grease (regular size) cupcake pan.
Cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add the egg and vanilla. Beat until well combined. Add the flour, baking soda and cornstarch and mix until smooth. The dough will be thick. Make balls of about 2 tbps. of dough and press into the bottom of the prepared muffin tin and about 1/3 to 1/2 of the way up the sides. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until lightly golden.
Remove from the oven and allow to cool (in the pan) for about 5 minutes. Turn out onto a cooling rack and allow to fully cool.
Once the cookies have cooled, make the cheesecake filling by combining the cream cheese, powdered sugar and vanilla extract and blending until smooth.
Scoop the cheesecake filling into the cookie cups and top with fruit. Fresh fruit is wonderful, however I used frozen berries. I thawed about 1 cup of berries, added just a bit (2 T) of powdered sugar, drained the liquid and added a few berries to each cheesecake. Canned fruit can be used also. Drain liquid and arrange.
Store these cheesecakes in the refrigerator, taking them out about 1/2 hour before ready to serve. I think they are just the right size and improve with flavor overnight.
|Pressing the dough into a muffin tin|
|The cookie cups cooling|
|Filled with the cheesecake mixture|
Enjoy your Cheesecake Cookie Cups with your next tea and savor the beauty of the moment.
As many of you know, I am a serial romantic. I love beauty and see it everywhere. And if I can't find beauty, I make my own. As a romantic, one of my favorite creative outlets is hosting tea parties. For years I have invited ladies into my home and we have shared our hearts over simple cups of tea. But then I started thinking....
The guys miss out on the good stuff - tea with the ladies! We needed to remedy this travesty immediately of course. And so, an idea was born - Tea and a Skeet Shoot! After talking with Sir Knight, I set a date, made a guest list and began compiling ideas for the perfect event. A cross between "Out of Africa" (you know, the quail hunting scene) and a Scottish Highland Hunt is what I have in mind - I can't wait!!!
First things first, we had to go shopping for tea accoutrements - clay pigeons and shotgun shells. Miss Serenity and I headed to a local sporting good store and bought a few cases of clay pigeons and a case of "target load" shotgun shells. These aren't for the actual tea - these are for practice! The few times I have shot skeet have been, well, consistent. I consistently miss. Every. Single. Shot.
|Cases of clay pigeons and shot|
|Pink shells! They must have known they were for a tea party!|
In spite of my inability to hit a flying target, we had the time of our lives! The littles were in charge of pushing the foot peddle on the skeet thrower (they even had an opportunity to shoot a few rounds) and collecting clay pigeons that had not been shot (mostly mine). The older kids, Sir Knight and I quickly shot over 100 rounds, laughing and clapping and having fun, until it was too dark to shoot.
|Miss Serenity running the skeet thrower with her foot|
Last Friday Sir Knight had the day off work and we were supposed to head out in the morning to drive to my parents where we were spending Easter weekend. After tea, however, instead of getting into the truck and heading out, Sir Knight and Maid Elizabeth left saying they would be back later! What? Oh, well. I waited patiently and we left for my folks at about noon, rather than in the morning. I was more than a little curious about their sudden side trip, but I figured they had a good reason to take their excursion, so I didn't ask too many questions.
Later that evening, after Maid Elizabeth and Miss Serenity had arrived at my parents home, Sir Knight and Maid Elizabeth quickly ducked out to her car and came back carrying a box. Sir Knight called me to the table and said "Enola - for you and your tea party". The box had me confused. It said "Winchester" across the bottom, however, it was too small to hold a rifle. Questioningly I opened the latches and lifted the lid. There, nestled in the box was the most beautiful shotgun I had ever seen. It was an over/under (something I had coveted since seeing "Out of Africa" for the first time) with a ported barrel and a highly polished stock. It was gorgeous! I couldn't believe that my wonderful family had bought such a gift just for me!
|The Winchester 101|
|Look at that engraving!|
|Chokes and choke key|
Maid Elizabeth quickly showed me how to assemble the shotgun and within minutes I was holding a Winchester 101 - my very first "hunting" shotgun! They had acquired the shotgun from a fellow Redoubter and an avid Radio Free Redoubt listener! And to top it off - the previous owner was a blog reader as well!
We spent a wonderful weekend with my parents and had more than one skeet shooting excursion. We all shot, including my parents and their pastor and his wife! My shooting is improving and the shotgun worked flawlessly.
Now, I am working on the menu for the shoot (I'm thinking of something rather British) and we are all putting together shooting outfits. I favor a long, linen skirt with a shooting vest while Sir Knight will be wearing a tartan kilt. Hopefully, the weather at the end of April will provide the perfect backdrop for our Tea and Skeet Shoot!
Sometimes we have to take time out of the upside world in which we live to enjoy the beauty of the moment. And we will enjoy this moment - with Tea and a Skeet Shoot!
As I mentioned a few posts back, I spent the early part of last week sick. Really sick. In fact, I don't remember the last time I felt so poorly! In fact, I didn't get out of bed for almost two days! Two days! That, my friends, is a first for me. Ever.
I noticed, a few days before I succumbed, that my legs were sore. Weird. I didn't give it much thought and just got on with life. By Saturday afternoon, was feeling pretty run down, but not ill, so I retired early, hoping wake up refreshed and rejuvenated. It was not to be. Instead of sleeping well, I tossed and turned, alternating between fever and chills, but worse than that, my muscles were on fire and my joints ached. By two in the morning, nausea had forced me out of bed and to my knees on the bathroom floor.
The rest of the night was a blur of fever and pain, nausea and chills. By the time the sun shone through our bedroom window, I was too ill to get out of bed. My fever rose throughout the day, barely kept in check by Ibuprofen. All I could think of was "Ponderosa Plague" - the name I had come up with for an illness that had been sweeping through a small town to the south of us. It had dreaded connotations. The Ponderosa Plague had a fierce reputation, keeping people home from work for upwards of three weeks at a time! It had even infected a young man at the butcher shop where Master Hand Grenade worked - keeping him home for more than two weeks. And when he returned he was pale and weak and not fully recovered. My symptoms matched those infected with the Ponderosa Plague perfectly. I had to do something drastic!
The first day (Sunday) I was unable to even get out of bed, much less keep down any home remedies. By Monday, I was still feverish and achy, but I did get out of bed long enough to have a half a glass of our homemade Elderberry wine (which was a feat - I hate wine!). Back to bed I went, to spend another night tossing and turning with pain and fever. Tuesday morning I slept in, enjoying my first pain-free hours in two days. After I got up, I decided to go on as long as I could without Ibuprofen (for the fever) and it was my intention to at least do some basic school with the children. Not only did I go all day with no fever, I finished school with the kids, did three loads of laundry, helped make dinner and baked a batch of cookies!
That evening, I settled in with another glass of Elderberry wine (yuck!), spent a blissful night of sleep and resumed my normal schedule the next day. Two days of sickness, one day of recuperation and the Ponderosa Plague had been defeated! Amazing!
A number of years ago the kids and I spent time learning to identify local plant life. We researched local edibles along with plants that had medicinal value. One of the medicinal superstars that we found living in our back yard was the humble Elderberry bush. Elderberry bushes are plentiful in our area and produce both flowers and berries that are edible. The bark and the seeds, however, contain cyanide and therefore are NOT beneficial for human (or animal) consumption. Many of my friends harvested Elderberries every fall and made and canned juice from the berries, which they kept specifically for treating colds and flu's. Following their lead, Sir Knight and I decided to experiment with Elderberry wine. Our reasoning was, that if used for medicinal purposes, the alcohol in the wine would encourage much needed sleep and therefore speed up the recovery process.
There is plenty of anecdotal evidence to support the use of Elderberry concoctions in the treatment of colds and flu's, but until recently, nothing clinical. As of January 2006, Retroscreen Virology, a leading British medical research institute, associated to Queen Mary College, University of London, announced that Sambucol (made with Elderberry) was at least 99% effective against the Avian Flu Virus, H5N1, and in cell cultures significantly neutralized the infectivity of the virus. Studies conducted in Israel have shown Elderberry to be THE key ingredient in flu-fighting Sambucol. In fact, their unique formula was tested on patients during the Israeli flu epidemic of 1992-3. The results were amazing. Within 24 hours, 20% of the patients taking Sambucol had dramatic improvements in symptoms like fever, muscle aches and pains and coughing. By the second day, 73% were improved and by day three, 90%. In the untreated group, only 16% felt better after two days. The majority of that group took almost a week to begin to feel better.
Just to be clear, I don't believe there is any one cure all. But, I do think that God gave us so many things right in our own back yards to heal and strengthen our bodies. He gave us every good thing!
Elderberry wine has been a great gift to our family. Sir Knight and I have made Elderberry wine every fall for the last number of years. We have supplied our family and friends with a large supply so they will be well guarded against a potential epidemic. We also keep a healthy stock on hand - just in case.
Prayer, followed by Renaissance Medicine, and the Ponderosa Plague is but a memory!
As you may remember we lost our Tibetan Mastiff, Reaper, last summer, to a tragic farm accident. We were bereft. After our experience with Reaper, we just knew that nothing but a Tibetan Mastiff would suit our family, so we kept a tentative eye out for an upcoming litter. A few months ago, Maid Elizabeth alerted us to a batch of TM puppies that had been born in Alaska, and looked into obtaining one. Things fell into place and our puppy came home about two weeks ago!
And now, let me introduce our little TM, Stoic II.
|Here, Stoic is about 8 weeks old - he's now almost doubled in size!|
|Meeting Moggy - Stoic is not impressed!|
|He has his own set of dog tags!|
Although I live in a 1200 square foot "shouse" I have always been a lover of houses. From the time I was a child houses have intrigued me, the older the better. I love secret passageways, quirky architecture and imperfection. Fascinated by both form and function, I'm especially drawn to homes that not only provide shelter to it's inhabitants but also serve as the hub of family industry - in other words, working homes. Ah, but I digress....
Earlier this week, while recuperating from a nasty illness (more on that later), I had the opportunity to watch a house hunting program on television. I rarely have the ability to watch any television programming, so it was a rare treat to tour homes all over the globe from the comfort of my easy chair. The show that I watched followed couples and families as they left the comfort of their native United States and embarked on new lives in a foreign country. Ready for adventure, each family sought to immerse themselves in the culture and uniqueness of their adopted home.
Or did they....
House after house, family after family, I noticed a troubling, recurring theme - the inability to manage extreme hardships - hardships such as no closets, dated kitchens and only 1 bathroom! I was horrified!
As each family trudged from house to house, talking about how they wanted vast cultural experiences for their children, I realized that what they really wanted were new museums and restaurants to explore, while comfortably settling into their thoroughly American style home each evening. Although I'm quite certain they thought they were giving their children an unparalleled cultural upbringing, they, in fact, were living an American life with a cultural flair.
I watched, in awe, as family after family decried each available home - the kitchens weren't updated, they didn't have "American" refrigerators, there was only 1 bathroom, the rooms were so small and my personal favorite - "how do you people live with no closets"? Quite frankly, I was embarrassed. Have we, as Americans, become so accustomed to our comfortable, large lifestyle that we can't "suffer" with limited closet space or, heaven, forbid, a single bathroom? No wonder we are universally despised!
In truth, we approach survival and preparedness in the same "typical American" fashion as those expat families. We claim to be preparing for an uncertain future but in reality, we are preparing to live our large, American life while everyone else is suffering and dying in the street. We are trying to figure out how to keep our larders full and our 2 1/2 baths in working order by throwing money, money and more money at the problem. Instead of preparing to completely change the way we live, to make the best out of a really bad situation, we are trying to think of every possible scenario and anticipate our every "need" - so that we can continue living our large American life.
A number of years ago an acquaintance sought Sir Knight's advice on setting up his desired off-grid system. He wanted advice on food storage, water storage and a photovoltaic system. He told Sir Knight how large his family was, how big his house was, what his appliances were (electric hot water heater, electric dryer, electric range) and other pertinent information. He wanted to know how much food he should store and how large a solar array he needed to run his household and feed his family just the way it was - with no changes to comforts or diet. How much would it cost? Without hesitation Sir Knight said "It would take a million dollars". That was it. With no comprise in standards, any long-term survivability would require at least a million dollars. Of course, that would only work until the first domino of their system fell and then they would be in the dark along with the rest of the world. Their million dollars would be worthless and their large American lifestyle would quickly crumble around them. Without disciplined resourcefulness and practical ingenuity, measured with a healthy dose of focus and strength in the midst of suffering, we American's wouldn't survive a two week power outage much less a full scale economic collapse!
Now is the time to leave your large American life behind. Learn to live with less. Use what you have. Be the one to make bad situations better. Fortify your relationships. Know God and seek His will. Build on those things that cannot be taken from you - faith, skills, courage, discipline, honor.
Invest in authentic preparedness - not in your large American life.
Let's face it - we all know that slavery is evil and freedom is good, right? But wait, maybe too much freedom is bad. Or, perhaps, a little slavery is good. Wait. That's not right. Oh, I don't know. I can't ever keep track from one minute to the next which is politically correct today. Human nature is so good at changing its collective mind that I can never keep it straight!
As school children we were all introduced to the evils of slavery. Our history books were filled with chapters dedicated to educating our young minds to embrace our freedoms while eschewing slavery in all its forms. Ironically, we learned that slave owners were "bad" at the same time that we learned that our slave-owning government was "good".
We can all agree that the slave owners of the South were bad, right? We can agree that the only decent thing to do was to give the slaves their liberty, right? But what if? What if a few of the slaves were prone to violence? Would it still be good to give them their freedom? What if a few were rapists? Thieves? Murderers? Would the slave owner still be right in giving them their liberty? What if one of those slaves was Adolf Hitler? Osama Bin Laden? Charles Manson? Would the "Master" still be righteous in giving those men their freedom or would he then be an accomplice to unspeakable atrocities? Would the slave owner be "good" for refusing freedom to Hitler, Bin Laden and Manson, in spite of slavery being evil?
We can't have it both ways. As humans we judge a matter depending upon circumstances, upon current philosophical trends and upon shifting social opinion. We expect freedom at all costs - until something bad happens - and then we turn on the very authors of the freedoms we claim - and require accountability for their atrocities against humanity! We hold others responsible for our evils - simply because they granted the freedom that we demanded. In our double mindedness, we expect to retain our freedoms while blaming others for the inevitable consequences of that freedom.
Our duplicity doesn't stop with the relationship with our fellow man. It is brought into sharp focus every time we hear the refrain "how could a "good" God allow bad things to happen?". What we consider a virtue in man (not keeping slaves) we consider an evil in God (why did you allow that to happen?). We want the freedom to believe how and what we want but we still hold God accountable when things don't go according to our plan. When evil runs rampant, it is God we blame. Never do we blame ourselves for the very freedom of conscience that God granted us at birth. Would we rather have God keep us as slaves, never to make decisions for ourselves? Is that the price that we would be willing to pay for a secure, safe, evil-free world? Slavery, my friends, is the only answer for a world without hurt, a world without evil.
Bad things happen. Evil people do evil things. Life is imperfect and unpredictable. But God loved us enough to give us our freedom. No. Matter. The. Cost. God had every right to program us for a perfect, sinless life. But He chose to give us our free will - freedom. And because of God's gift of freedom to me, I will fight with everything in me to secure that freedom for my fellow man. We are not slaves. God is not a slaveholder.
I am a free man. I will use my freedom to fight for yours.
A wonderful thing happened this week - Miss Serenity turned sweet sixteen! Not only did we get to celebrate our wonderful daughter, we were also blessed to be able to celebrate my dad's birthday, with whom Serenity shares her special day. He has always told her that he received the best birthday present ever when she was born!
|Opening a birthday gift - a new tool kit!|
|Giving it a once-over with her dad and her grandpa|
|What every girl wants!|
|On her hard-earned motorcycle|
|This year's buck|
Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen!
Although I have been ridiculously absent from the blogosphere, I have been busy and productive in most others areas of my life. We have had an unusually mild winter and our February even bordered on spring-like. Because of the unseasonably warm weather, out of door projects have called our name and we have answered!
As most of you know, we lost our beloved Tibetan Mastiff dog "Reaper" to a horrific homestead accident last summer. We have missed him terribly and have chosen not to get another dog... until now. Next Sunday a new little homestead guardian will arrive! We have named him Lowen and he carries the lineage of our "Reaper". Lowen is an 8 week old Tibetan Mastiff - and he has very large paws to fill! In preparation for our little guardian, we have been busy building a "dog den", rather than a typical dog house. Borrowing Sep Holzer's permaculture method of housing animals, we dug a hillside out and built a log structure into the hill and backfilled the "den". We still need to finish the top with plywood and tar paper before we cover the den completely with dirt, leaving only the entrance exposed. We are very interested to see how he likes his "den" and if he uses it. At this point we think he will use it far more in the heat of summer than he ever does during the winter months!
|Sir Night and Maid Elizabeth digging the hole|
|Maid Elizabeth has help!|
|Master Hand Grenade breaking ground|
|The finished hole (about 4 x 4)|
|The first two courses (butt and pass method)|
|Beginning the roof|
|The roof is on - it's just awaiting plywood, tar paper and dirt|
|Tools laid out (with the marking pen and knives) to mark for cutting (each tray is a drawer)|
|Marking around the tools|
|Adjusting the knife to the depth of the tool (to cut into the foam at the correct depth)|
|Making the cut|
|Removing the foam|
|One tray (drawer) finished - with room for more tools|
|The tool box closed - it is water proof and shock proof!|
|Rolls easily on integrated wheels|
|That's a little guy urinal in the corner|
|The new hole and barrel (plastic is draped inside to keep any leakage from the front)|
|Hives in the Bee House|
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed."
Equality. A cornerstone of our country, of our government, was the equality of men. The Continental Congress did away with such notions as Kings and Kingdoms, Nobles and Peasants, Lords and Villains. In the country they created there would be equality. Men would serve as lawmakers for a short while and then return to their homes to live under the laws they created. They determined to rule well, securing liberty for their countrymen, and in doing so, securing liberty for themselves and their posterity. They considered themselves men of the people, in fact, they were the people.
The entire concept of equality for all men was more than revolutionary. Every other culture on earth had a ruling class. Not since ancient Rome had mankind seen a republic flourish - and never a representative republic! Liberty and freedom blossomed as the people ruled themselves with honor and integrity. While not perfect, America promised that which no country had before - freedom and justice for all men - regardless of station or circumstance. The equality of men was the American Dream.
A country such as ours can only be held together by good men. And the good men have left the building. They have been replaced by greedy, corrupt, immoral men, seeking the best for themselves at the expense of their fellow men, and their country. Once again, the Ruling Class has quietly crept into a secured position of power, content to crush the equality of their brethren under their feet. We live in a country where our lawmakers make laws to govern the people but exempt themselves. We live in a country where our law keepers police the people, but not themselves. We live in a country where the judicial system has taken it upon themselves to act as lawmakers rather than the chief investigators of innocence or guilt.
It is the unfortunate state of humanity to guard our comforts at the cost of our freedoms. As our Founding Fathers noted, "all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed." And suffering, we are.
It recently came to my attention that the State of Idaho exempts lawmakers from the requirement of obtaining a concealed weapons permit in order to conceal carry. This is far from the only example of the "Ruling Class" exempting themselves from the laws they have created. Congress passed the Affordable Care Act (without even bothering to read its contents), yet when faced with abiding by this legislation, they issued a rule (August 7, 2013 OPM) that essentially exempted them from this poisonous legislation. They gave an exemption to themselves - not to you and I, mind you - but to themselves! But it doesn't end with our lawmakers - they are but one section of our Ruling Class.
Law enforcement, in recent years, has proven themselves above the law. As I wrote about in an earlier post, a Washington State Patrol officer and pilot were caught ticketing "civilians" while allowing their fellow officers to speed on their way to a law enforcement seminar. There is example after example of heightened police presence and involvement when a crime is committed against an officer rather than an ordinary citizen.
And then there are our judges. These are the men that we have charged with disseminating supreme justice. This sacred trust has been sorely misplaced. Rather than unbiasedly dispensing justice, they have chosen to use their honored position to betray the American people. They have written their own, biased opinion into law and in the process they have circumvented justice and stolen their fellow mans freedom.
How soon we forget. Just over two centuries ago brave men sought a new country, a country they could call their own. A country where no man was another's better and no one controlled another mans freedoms or opportunities. The country they found - that they built - was a beacon of hope in a harsh world. That country was the United States of America. But, we have failed to guard one of our most precious commodities - equality. We allowed ignorant, greedy men to steel our autonomy while we slept and now we have reduced ourselves to nation of obedient servants. We have effectively given the substance of our lives to the Ruling Class. We have accepted servitude in place of freedom and taken on the mantle of peasants minding the King's holdings. We have become the Villains.
Will you continue in your slumber? Will you pass on a heritage of servitude to you children? Will you allow your fellow man to exercise their (illegal) authority to rule over you? Will you spend your days serving an ungoverned, immoral Ruling Class? Or will you reclaim your rightful position and exercise the rights endowed to you by your Creator?
We are the Ruling Class. It's time for us to remind our self-appointed "Masters" of that fact.
|Vermeer's Milk Maid|
Thank you so much for your wonderful comments! I have thoroughly enjoyed reading them all, especially from those of you who are disabled and/or have (or had) small children.
As you can imagine, Sir Knight, the children and I were in agreement with the vast majority of you - the woman with the small children should have used the larger stall and the lady in the wheelchair should have graciously waited. What really surprised us was "Dear Abby's" response. In her column, she stated that the handicap stall was reserved for handicapped people only and the woman at the end of the line in the wheelchair should have been given preference.
Truthfully, I don't think it really boils down to an issue of mobility but rather is an issue of courtesy. In my experience, most people do their best to be courteous to one another. Had I been in that bathroom I would have encouraged the woman behind me with the small children to use the handicap stall, just as I would have given preference to the woman in the wheelchair had she been behind me. I am relatively certain the handicapped woman referred to in the "Dear Abby" column would have been quickly ushered into the handicap stall had she been gracious rather than rude. She had an opportunity to encourage charity and understanding, instead she chose the disheartening attitude of selfishness.
The unfortunate truth is that sometimes we can't seem to win regardless of what we do. If we allow the person behind us to "cut in line", the person at the end of the line gets irritated. If we open the door for someone, they very well may hurl the insult of "I can do that myself!". Even offering a seat to an older person can be offensive - "I'm not old" they often quip. In our self-centered society even the most courteous of actions can be misconstrued as blatantly offensive. What are we to do?
The answer is simple, really. We do the right thing. We are kind, we are courteous and we are gracious. No. Matter. What. It doesn't matter how someone else responds, we are responsible for our own actions - every time. We do not have the ability to control how others respond. We can't make them behave correctly. We can't force them to react the way we think they should. The only person we have control of is ourselves. And therein lies the rub. It is our responsibility to control ourselves. Every time! We need to control our tongues, our tempers and even our thoughts. Our person is under our authority! We are our own responsibility. No. Matter. What.
I'm pretty sure the answer to "What should we do?" is "The right thing". If we held ourselves and our children accountable to that simple precept our country would look a whole lot different.
Hi everyone - please forgive me for the inexcusably long absence. I have been wrapping up 2014 and ushering in 2015 and became more than little sidetracked! I'll be bringing you up-to-date in the coming month.
I have a question for you. Recently I read a "Dear Abby" column and disagreed with her answer completely. Over tea, I posed the question to Sir Knight - his answer mirrored mine. After dinner, before we abandoned the table, we posed the same question to each of our three older children, they too, answered as Sir Knight and I had. Funny thing, that!
And so, I ask you - what do you think? Here is the scenario:
You are in a public ladies bathroom (you gents will have to use a little imagination here). There are three regular stalls and one larger handicapped stall (equipped with a baby changing station). When you enter the bathroom, all of the stalls are occupied. A line quickly forms behind you. Directly after you is a frazzled looking young woman with a loudly fussing infant in her arms and a cranky toddler attached to her skirt. The first bathroom stall to become available is the handicap stall with the baby changing station. Being the kind and generous person that you are, you usher the young mother into the stall and continue to wait for another stall to become available. Almost instantly an angry voice cuts through the room - a lady in a wheelchair (at the back of a very long line) voiced her adamant opinion that the woman with the babies should have waited for a "normal" stall and she should have immediately been ushered into the handicapped stall.
What do you think? Should the mother and children have taken the handicap stall or should it have been reserved solely for the use of the handicapped patron?
You can probably imagine our response, but tomorrow I will tell you what our family thought and what "Dear Abby" answered. I can't wait to here what you say!
I'm sorry I've been so silent - we have been nothing if not busy! (As I'm sure all of you have been too!). Hopefully, a picture is worth a thousand words, because that is all I'm able to get up today. Here is a peek into our life as of late....
Master Hand Grenade became acquainted with winter driving (black ice) and learned the pitfalls of only carrying liability insurance!
And, the next day, his initiation as a butcher occurred.....
Making lotion bars...
|Weighing the beeswax|
|Melting the ingredients|
|Cooling in the molds|
|The finished bars|
|Packaged and ready to go|
|Master Calvin scrubbing the barrel, with a Zebra lamp on his head|
(so he could be sure to get all of the nooks and crannies)
|30 pounds of coarsely chopped cranberries|
|Into the "fermentation" vessel (also known as a 55 gallon barrel)|
|Raisins added (15 pounds)|
|Stirring the "must" with a pizza paddle!|
30 pounds chopped cranberries (fresh or frozen)
15 pounds raisins
45 pounds granulated sugar
4 1/2 tsp. pectic enzyme
1 1/4 C lemon juice
15 gallons boiled/cooled water
Wash and roughly chop cranberries to allow juices to leave the fruit. Transfer crushed/chopped cranberries to a clean winemaking fermentation container and add all of the other ingredients except for the wine yeast.
After allowing the cranberry mixture to stand for around 12 hours, add the activated wine yeast. Stir each morning and evening for 5 days. Strain and squeeze the solids, transferring the cranberry wine mixture into a demijohn, complete with airlock.
Rack after a month. Rack once more after 3 months, and then two more times until the wine is clear and approximately 12 months old. Bottle the wine and leave to stand for over 12 months.
So, there you go - a brief synopsis of life in "Little Shouse on the Prairie".
From time to time I take my robust good health for granted. This morning I was visiting with my mother (over the phone) while she was busy with last minute Thanksgiving preparations. She was telling me about her upcoming travels and the many things that needed to be done in the next few weeks. One of the items on her "to-do" list was making dinner for a local family. This family is gracefully walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Dad is a pastor, mom is a homemaker and schools her 6 children at home. They live a quiet, simple and wholesome life. And mom has inoperable cancer. The oldest child has accepted the mantle of womanhood and is schooling and caring for her younger siblings, while she cooks, cleans and runs the home. Two nights a week, in an effort to ease this young lady's burden, my parent's church provides a meal for the family. It is a small gift, but a gift born of love.
As we prepare for Thanksgiving this year, we will be giving thanks for the bountiful health we enjoy. But as we give thanks, we will also remember those that are walking a very different path. We will thank God that He is caring not only for the healthy but especially for the sick, the tired and the weak. He truly is The Great Physician.
A beautiful Thanksgiving to you all.
Once again Miss Serenity has hunting boasting rights. She is our most faithful hunter (she LOVES it) and has been rewarded with a buck that is even bigger than last years catch.
This year Serenity hunted in an open field with no discernable cover. In order to get into the field before the deer came up the draw, Serenity borrowed Sir Knight's ghillie suit and SSG and staked out her little plot of land just before evening overtook the daylight.
First, the doe's ventured into the field, grazing while their ears twitched, alert for possible danger. Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, a buck gracefully trotted to join his harem. Two hundred yards away, Miss Serenity followed the buck in her site. Adjusting the windage, she slowed her breathing, set the first trigger and then gently squeezed the second trigger. Two ragged steps and a somersault later her trophy lay on the ground.
Within minutes, Serenity had called home and Sir Knight, Master Hand Grenade and the two little children were by her side, preparing to gut her kill and haul him home (she shot him just across the road from the shouse). An hour later, he had been gutted, skinned and hung in our shed.
As evening fell on Little Shouse on the Prairie, Miss Serenity regaled us with her newly minted hunting stories and we thanked God for His wonderful bounty.
This cake requires no dairy - butter or milk - and is leavened not by eggs but by vinegar and baking soda (I know - vinegar in a cake!). The result is a moist cake that is perfect alone, sprinkled with powdered sugar or frosted. Our favorite way to serve this cake is warm from the oven with a scoop of vanilla ice cream!!
Rubber cake is not the least bit crumbly so it is perfect for the lunchbox as well as afternoon tea. Another benefit? It is mixed and baked in the same pan - no other bowls to get dirty! Because it requires no fresh ingredients, Rubber cake is the Quintessential Survival Cake.
1 1/2 C flour
1 C sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
3 T cocoa powder
1 tsp. baking soda
Sift together above ingredients into a 9" cake pan (or double the recipe and use a 9"x13" cake pan). The pan does not have to be greased or floured.
Make 3 wells in the mixture.
Put the following in the separate wells;
6 T vegetable oil in one well
1 T vinegar in one well (I use white vinegar)
1 tsp. vanilla in one well
Pour 1 C of water over the top and mix well.
Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.
Serve warm with ice cream or whipped cream.
Serve cold with white, caramel or chocolate frosting.
|Filling the wells|
|One overflowed a bit!|
|All mixed together|
|Just out of the oven|
|A lovely way to end the day!|
Recently Maid Elizabeth came across a recipe for oven-fried chicken, thought it looked fabulous and asked me to work it into our dinner menu rotation. She, along with Master Hand Grenade, had been craving fried chicken for awhile but knew that it was like pulling teeth to get me to make it for dinner. Although I like fried chicken (minus the grease) I don't like making it - so fried chicken is a once a year (at the most) rarity at our house. Elizabeth's oven-fried recipe looked remarkably good, and easy, so I put it on the menu and eagerly anticipated giving it a try.
Since our first oven-fried chicken experiment, we have had it every other week - without fail! It is that good! We love it piping hot, fresh out of the oven, and we love it cold the next day (or later, after dinner has been digested) for lunch. It is crunchy and tasty and not the least bit greasy (which I really like). Best of all? It's relatively quick and very easy.
Generally I just cut up chicken breast to make this dish, however that is pretty decadent. I think that a cut-up fryer would work equally well - I would just bake it a bit longer.
We love this chicken with mounds of fluffy mashed potatoes and chicken gravy, but it would be just as wonderful with potato salad or whatever suits your fancy.
Fantastic Oven-Fried Chicken
4 or 5 Chicken breasts (I cut each breast into about 3 pieces)
10 T butter
2 C flour
1 tsp. salt
2 T seasoning salt
1 tsp. pepper
1 T + 1 tsp. paprika
3 eggs + a splash of milk
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the butter (cut into chunks) on two large baking sheets and put into the oven to melt.
In a bowl combine the flour, salt, seasoning salt, pepper and paprika. Mix well. Measure 1/2 of the mixture into a plastic bag, leaving the other 1/2 in the bowl. (You can forgo the plain salt if desired).
In a separate bowl whisk eggs and milk.
Put the strips of chicken into the plastic bag with the flour mixture and shake until well coated.
One at a time, roll a coated piece of chicken in the egg mixture, roll in the flour mixture in the bowl (this will coat the chicken twice) and place on a cookie sheet. Continue with all of the chicken pieces.
Take your baking sheets out of the oven once the butter has melted and transfer the coated chicken to the baking sheets, leaving space between each piece. Bake 10 to 12 minutes. Gently flip each piece and bake for another 10 to 12 minutes.
Check to make sure the chicken is cooked through (this can vary depending on the thickness of the chicken pieces) and bake another 5 to 10 minutes, if needed (don't over bake - the chicken will dry out).
Removed to a plate lined with newspaper or a paper towel to soak up any excess grease. Serve immediately.
|Butter on the baking sheet|
|Chicken cut into large chunks|
|Two bowls, one with egg and the other with breading|
|A bag of breading to coat chicken the first time|
|Place coated chicken on hot baking sheet with melted butter|
|(oven) Fried chicken!|
This morning I read a news article about a Marine father that had been banned from his daughter's school because of a ruckus he'd caused about a school assignment. Apparently, a history assignment was given requiring the students to list the benefits of Islam. The father had a visceral reaction to this particular assignment and strongly stated his case with school officials. The result was the fathers banishment from the school grounds.
My first reaction was disgust but then, I started thinking about it. Within minutes, I was doing the assignment in my head. The more I thought, the more benefits I came up with. Here are a few....
The Benefits of Islam
- Economic. Islam benefits the economic structure in so many ways. When a terrorist bomb explodes, hundreds of economic entities go work. Police and Rapid Response Teams flood the area. Paramedics and EMT's respond. ER rooms go into overdrive and funeral homes experience a boom in business. Once the dust has settled, municipalities, insurance companies and contractors go to work. The economic impact in the area can go on for months. Reconstruction, heightened security and PSTD treatment can last for years - adding even more of a financial windfall.
- Education. If you want smaller class sizes and streamlined education - Islam is your religion. When you educate boys only, effectively eliminating roughly 1/2 of your student burden, you have the ability to work closely with each individual student. Because you only teach a few core subjects - the Koran, Jihad and a few other choice electives, you have the ability to study your subject matter in depth, producing exceptionally dedicated, knowledgeable scholars.
- Political. The benefits of Islam in the political arena are myriad. By doing away with pesky freedoms, both of speech and action, you simplify the political process significantly. Swift elimination of political opponents, specifically by beheading, streamlines the political process and most often brings about a calming sense of continuity to the voting public.
- Military/Defense. This is one area where Islamic nations really shine. Their countries benefit immensely from the non-structured yet mandatory implementation of aggressive para-military organizations. Not only do they recruit from within the borders of their own countries, they effectively recruit members from all over the globe. With the promise of eternal glory, their fighters are arguably the most dedicated in the world.
- Environmental. Islam is very environmentally conscious. Rather than developing carbon fuel based guidance and delivery systems for their rockets and bombs, they use the much more environmentally friendly camel and donkey delivery systems. In some cases, they use simple rocks (completely biodegradable) instead of manufactured munitions in their bid to protect mother nature. And when using a more sophisticated delivery system (usually in the form of a Toyota pickup or Landcruiser), they make sure to use the most fuel efficient model. Another aspect of environmentalism that is unique to Islamic nations is their fervent adherence to population control. In an effort to keep their numbers down, their women are stoned at the first hint of an indiscretion and their children are regularly sacrificed to their cause. Such a dedicated approach to saving the earth is rarely seen in the modern world.
- Social. The social benefits of Islam are too numerous to mention. In their quest to reduce envy, covetousness and lust, they have established a proven system of dress and manner that greatly benefits society at large. Covering their women from head to toe and not allowing them to speak in public has produced a contented, joyful female population. The men are equally happy, as evidenced by their quiet lives and tender reverence for their families. All is well in the Islamic world.
Would I get a good grade on my paper?
Human nature is a funny thing. We seem to live in a constant state of comparison. We compare every aspect of our lives with others, either feeling superior or inferior, depending the circumstances. We compare our spouses, our children and ourselves. We compare our clothes, our cars and our fences. We compare ourselves with our friends, with people on television, in magazines and we even compare ourselves with fictional characters. And more often than not, we don't measure up.
I'm sure that people have measured their lives by the perceived successes and failures of their neighbors since mankind populated the earth - but our modern technological age has created a plague of discontent that is eroding the soul of our nation.
I have never indulged in social media. I don't have a Facebook account or Twitter (I'm still not sure what that is) or Instagram or any other social interactive site, and I haven't missed them at all. Over the years I have had friends tell me that I just had to sign up, however, I have a couple of serious problems with our social media culture. The first issue I have is that you can be anybody you want to be on the internet! There is no accountability, no truth. People only post what they want you to see. You see the successes only - rarely the failures. You see those few shining moments when a persons life measures up to their own standards of success. You are inundated with EVERYONE's success and pretty soon you can see nothing but your own failures.
And we wonder why we are nation depressed!
When I blog, I share snippets out of our lives. You get to hear about Master Hand Grenade getting his first job and Miss Serenity dropping a buck with 1 shot. You hear about Maid Elizabeth delivering babies and Princess Dragon Snack riding her first motorcycle. You see pictures of Master Calvin decked out in his "Gentleman Adventurer" gear and Sir Knight testing tactical equipment. You read accounts of lessons learned and prayers answered. But there is so much I don't write. I don't write about children with bad attitudes or baking projects that end up feeding the dogs. You don't read about marital difficulties between Sir Knight and I or the bitter disappointments that seem to visit our home with reliable frequency. You don't see the mess or the failures or the really rotten parts of life that I would be loathe to share. You don't see the messy stuff.
I only show you what I want you to know.
But there is another reason I'm not a part of the social media frenzy. Quite frankly, I don't want to be a busybody. For a while I "spied" on people via Maid Elizabeth's Facebook account. I would check on them every week or so, just to see what they were up to. Maid Elizabeth didn't have many "friends", but I found that often they would post things on their account that I would not have known any other way. But then, as I was wandering through Elizabeth's "news feed" one day, I suddenly realized that I was like the "busybody" that the Bible talks about! I was checking in on other people's lives, reading all of their gossip, when I would be much better served by taking care of my own life!
I think blogs, Pinterest and a whole lot of other sites on the world wide web can be wonderful - if they are used with discretion. There are so many things to learn and so much encouragement waiting for us online, but we have to be discerning. Remember, behind every website is a real, live, human being that isn't perfect. Their spouse isn't perfect, their kids aren't perfect and their house isn't perfect. They don't have the "perfect" survival location, the "perfect" survival plan or the "perfect" survival skills. They have good days and they have bad days. Whatever you do, don't look at the lives people present online and assume that your life is in the toilet! We are all in this boat together - success, failure and everything in between.
Believe it or not, the world is not populated by people that have a perfectly decorated, spotlessly clean home, as they cook organic, homemade meals, while raising 8 impossibly polite children and being the quintessential Proverbs 31 woman (oh, and the perfect wife, of course!). It is filled with people just. like. you.
Welcome to my reality. Imperfect. Messy. Just right!
About the photo -- A snapshot of our imperfect life. The window is broken (an accident two years ago). There are little buggy's, dead, between the two panes. The window can't be cleaned (the dirt is between the two panes) and we can barely see through it. Such is life! Someday....
When my children were smaller, one of their favorite poems was "Animal Crackers and Cocoa to Drink". Every once in a while, on a blustery day, I would give the children their own box of animal crackers, stir up a pot of cocoa and we would play games in front of the wood cookstove. There could be nothing cozier than a cup of cocoa and a crunchy, sweet cracker to warm your soul on a late fall afternoon!
Today, I was out of animal crackers (we don't buy them very often) but the cookstove was singing it's siren song and the children and I couldn't resist a game of Yatzee while sipping on cocoa. Being out of animal crackers, I decided to substitute homemade Honey Graham Crackers. They take only minutes to put together and are worth every minute. These crackers can be slightly soft (like a cookie) or crispier (like a cracker), depending on how long you bake them. They are perfect if you don't have much in the pantry because they only require basic pantry staples - other than the butter, which can be easily substituted with shortening. These graham crackers are full of flavor and good-for-you ingredients. I highly suggest baking a batch today!
Honey Graham Crackers
1 C whole wheat flour
1 1/2 C all purpose flour
1/2 C dark brown sugar (packed) can use light brown sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 C butter, chilled (or shortening)
1/4 C honey
1/4 C water
1 tsp. vanilla
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
Combine the wheat flour, all-purpose flour, brown sugar, salt, cinnamon and baking soda. Cut in butter (or shortening) with a pastry cutter (or you can use a food processor for this part) until the mixture resembles a course meal. Add the honey, water and vanilla. Stir until blended. Stir with your hands until the mixture becomes a softened, cohesive dough.
Putting the dough on a lightly floured surface, roll to 1/4 inch thick and cut with cookie cutters (or cut like crackers). I used a fork to prick each cracker, although this step is not required.
Place on cookie sheets and bake for 15 minutes.
I gave a couple of these crackers to our mail lady (fresh from the oven) and she said she had just seen a recipe for graham crackers but thought "who on earth would make their own graham crackers!". So, I guess now she knows!
And for all you romantics out there, our favorite "Animal Crackers"...
|Graham Crackers go with tea as well as cocoa!|
A few years ago I visited a friend whom I hadn't seen in a long time. As we visited and I was given a tour through her home, I noticed her teenaged son sitting quietly in a corner of the room. His mother introduced him to me and without looking up he mumbled his hello. Another friend and my mother had accompanied me on this excursion and my mother, noticing the quiet young man, attempted to engage him in conversation. Her attempts were met with downcast eyes and mumbled, one-word answers. This young man was not indifferent or rude, rather he was painfully shy.
As I sat visiting with his mother, I asked about her son. She told me that his grades were excellent but he that he had a visceral reaction to school because he was so badly bullied. He also suffered from severe headaches (due to the constant downward slant of his head, which was his method of avoiding eye contact). It was the mother's opinion that her son would grow out of his shyness and everything would be fine.
I have to admit, I was rather shocked. Never in my life had I met ANYONE with that degree of "shyness". He was so withdrawn that he was, without a doubt, handicapped. My heart ached for this young man. His pain in attempting to interact with other human beings was almost palpable. It broke my heart.
Waving as we drove off, I looked at my mom, aghast, and said "Mom, that isn't O.K. That boy is 15 years old and cannot look another person in the eye (including his mother), much less hold a conversation - something must be done!". From the back seat, the friend that had accompanied us on our visit piped up. "Enola, he'll be fine, there are a lot of socially awkward guys that work on computers and make a lot of money - just leave the poor kid alone". I was stunned. This was a mother - couldn't she see what would happen to this young man if his family didn't help him through this difficulty? He would never be able to function in society without the ability to communicate. How his parents dealt with the situation now would determine the future for this young man - and it would determine if he would contribute to society or if he would drain society of its resources. This was a matter of consequence!
The brief visit with my old friend brought the challenges of parenthood into perfect clarity. In our desire to love and accept our children as they are, we often handicap our children for life. Somewhere along the line we forgot that love doesn't necessarily mean acceptance. When we love our children we see them clearly, honestly. We walk beside them as they struggle to mature and sometimes, oftentimes, we push them past their comfort zone. We see how their behavior will affect their future and we take the necessary steps to correct their path - even when those steps are painful.
I have watched my children struggle. I have been tough on them. I have drug them past their comfort zones kicking and screaming. But I have done all of these things because I love them. I want them to succeed. I want them to be capable, to be able, to contribute. I want them to walk through the hard stuff now, when I am able to encourage them and walk beside them, rather than waiting for them to learn their lessons in a cold, uncaring, unforgiving world.
I think we confuse the meaning of the word love. Love doesn't mean blindly accepting bad behavior, or behavior that will prove detrimental. Love means disciplining your children when they're naughty, because if you don't, people won't like them. Love means requiring your children to finish what they started because it will teach them to persevere. Love means giving your children the gift of consequences, whether for good behavior or bad. Love means knowing your children, acknowledging their shortcomings and being willing to do what is necessary to see them through to the other side.
We live in a world that has mistaken love for acceptance. They are not the same thing. In fact, acceptance can be on of the most unloving act any parent can commit. How we love our children truly is a matter of consequence.
There are things in life that irritate me. Often, they're not huge, earth-shattering situations, rather just small, constant, wearing irritations. And it's the small, constant, wearing irritations that bring people to their breaking point.
Last week, I was irritated past the point of reason and was on the verge of becoming unreasonable. I wanted to throw a temper tantrum and make sure that everyone around me knew of my displeasure. Instead, I sat there and stewed (getting more irritated by the minute). While I silently fumed, my fingers brushed the pearls that encircled my neck. As I fingered the satiny smooth pearls and wondered at their magnificence, I realized that they owed their precious beauty to a tiny, almost imperceptible irritation.
I unclasped the necklace and held the pearls in my hands. A tiny grain of sand, a parasite or even a sliver of shell had deposited itself in the innermost part of each oyster that had produced these pearls. Normally, the oyster would have spit the invader out, but for each one of these beautiful pearls, that had proven impossible. As a result, the sand had rubbed the inside of each oyster and the oysters had responded by coating the sand in a lustrous coating, soothing itself while transforming the irritant. Month after month, in the unseen darkness of the oyster's secret places, that grain of sand, that constant irritant, produced a glorious gem of untold worth. What each oyster would have rejected as unwanted - irritating, had, in reality, produced in it something far more valuable than itself.
I am guilty. I often resent struggles and irritations. I try to avoid them rather than allow them to change me, to polish me.
As I gazed at my Great-Grandmother's pearls, I realized that I wanted my life to produce pearls of great worth, even if that meant embracing the irritants that life always seems bring in abundance.
One particularly challenging aspect of being non-electric is the need for refrigeration. When we first moved into Little Shouse on the Prairie we were completely non-electric. No. Power. Anywhere. I had a milk cow, which resulted in fresh cheese and butter and yogurt, and nowhere to keep any of it cool. The cheese and butter were somewhat forgiving but the milk was not. If I couldn't cool the milk in a relatively short amount of time, and keep it cool, I ended up with a curdled mass that was only fit for animal use. Desperate for a solution, Sir Knight and I bought a heavily insulated cooler and filled it with blocks of ice. Although better than nothing, the cooler was a sad substitute for a real refrigerator.
Within a few weeks of moving in, we had a large propane tank installed and plumbed to the Shouse. Originally we had intended on using the propane only for our range. Quickly, however, we realized that we needed another solution for refrigeration.
Our original propane stove was an enameled Wedgewood from the 1950's. It was the gem of my kitchen! At the same yard sale that we had purchased the stove, we stumbled across a 1950's model Servel propane refrigerator. For a few hundred dollars, we bought the stove and the refrigerator. My initial thought was that we could use the propane stove only when we really needed it, but we couldn't turn the refrigerator off if we weren't using it, so not wanting to waste propane, we didn't hook up the refrigerator.
More than a few gallons of spoiled milk, blocks of ruined cheese and pounds of rotten meat later, we finally gave in and lit the propane refrigerator. Oh, it was heavenly! Although rather small for a refrigerator, the Servel was huge compared to a cooler. No longer did I have to fish wet packages, bags and bottles from the bottom of a swampy cooler! Now I could keep gallons of milk ice cold, leftovers fresh and I even had a small freezer for ice cube trays. Wow! What a difference a tiny blue flame could make!
Over time, I found that I absolutely loved our propane refrigerator. It was small, but efficient. In the whole scope of things, it used relatively little propane and made our lives so much easier. But, out of all of the reasons to love the Servel, silence was at the top of my list. Really! Propane refrigerators are completely silent. They don't cycle off and on. The flame just burns silently, steadily, providing continuous, silent refrigeration. Oh how I loved that little workhorse.
One morning, after using the Servel for about 6 years, I awoke to a warming refrigerator. Laying on the floor to inspect the burner, I quickly discovered that the flame had gone out. Sir Knight re-lit our refrigerator and it continued on as before - for about 2 weeks. Again, a pool of water on the kitchen floor indicated the burner has gone out. Sir Knight surveyed the situation and discovered that the burner had burned out. Calling a propane refrigerator repair center, I was quickly informed that the older model Servel that we owned had been part of a lawsuit (the burners quit working after over 50 years and a number of people had died of carbon monoxide poisoning in their cabins) and there were no replacement parts available. We were sadly reduced to the cooler once again.
Shortly after our propane refrigerator quit working, we helped a friend move his entire household. A week later, a pick-up came rumbling up our driveway bearing a gift from the friend that had moved - an older model Sunfrost refrigerator, specially designed for off-grid use. The Sunfrost was electric, however, it was designed with the alternative energy household in mind. Our refrigerator was large, with two compressors - one for the freezer and one for the refrigerator. It was short and wide, making the refrigerator inconvenient, however Sir Knight remedied that problem by building a sturdy box for the refrigerator to sit upon. Now, not only was the Sunfrost at a convenient height, but the box also provided extra kitchen storage!
I had a love/hate relationship with the Sunfrost refrigerator. It was huge, but had only three awkward glass shelves in each section. The shelves were positioned so that it was difficult to fit anything into the refrigerator except into the voluminous middle shelf. The refrigerator was so deep that I was constantly digging everything out to get to items in the back. It was nothing short of frustrating. Along with the poor organizational qualities, we found that our Sunfrost didn't work particularly well. The refrigerator froze everything that migrated to the back and the freezer refused to freeze anything other than ice cubes. While researching our refrigeration issues, Sir Knight discovered that Sunfrost tested their refrigerators differently than industry standards for a "regular" refrigerator. Sunfrost tested their refrigerator efficiency at significantly higher temperatures than their Energy Star counterparts. What this meant for us was that our refrigerator required much more energy than advertised. We turned our refrigerator down, trying to keep things cooler, causing the compressors to cycle off and on more frequently and still not achieving the cooling that we desired! On top of that, the fridge was not frost free. The entire top and back of the fridge would turn into solid chunks of ice, all while not freezing anything in the freezer!
After eight years of no popsicles, no ice cream and forgotten left-overs, we made the jump. For my birthday this year, Sir Knight bought me a used, Energy Star Amana refrigerator to replace the cursed Sunfrost. I was so excited! My "new" fridge had drawers, shelves and cubbies everywhere. It was a simple refrigerator with the fridge on top and the freezer on the bottom. The evening we brought it home, I anxiously waited to see how it would respond to the modified square waves of our off-grid system. I wasn't sure if the surge (when it came on) would be too much for our inverter, or if it would use a ton more power. I wanted to have a "real" refrigerator so badly that I was constantly checking the Tri-metric (volt meter) to see if it was going to be viable.
As soon as we plugged the fridge in, it cycled on. Really, it only used a little bit more power during the surge than our Sunfrost (our Sunfrost surge was about 12 amps and the Amana topped out at 15 amps). But, the really cool thing was that when the fridge was running it used less electricty (about 6 amps versus the Sunfrost's 8 amps) than our old refrigerator! Less! And, as icing on the cake - the Amana Energy Star refrigerator could freeze anything - hard, and it was frost free!
Suffering for eight years with a substandard refrigerator was ridiculous! We had read one too many solar articles, listened to one too many experts and based our decisions on faulty information. We couldn't be happier with a plain old Energy Star refrigerator, despite what the "experts" say.
All in all, my favorite fridge was the propane Servel. It had drawbacks (tiny freezer and small fridge) but I LOVED it's silent operation (and it was pretty cute!). But, if I had to do it all again, I would definitely choose a plain jane Energy Star refrigerator. When we had no alternative energy, the Servel was the only way to go, but with solar panels, the Amana is wonderful. It runs flawlessly, keeps cold things cold and frozen things frozen. It is convenient, easily organized and just plain awesome. Sometimes I walk into my kitchen and think "where have you been all my life" (I know, sad isn't it?).
If you are just starting your off-grid adventure and you have a reliable alternative energy system, I would highly encourage you to buy a simple Energy Star refrigerator rather than an expensive "off-grid" fridge. Although a DC Sunfrost might be worth the investment, we found that our AC model certainly wasn't. In the worst case scenario, a root cellar would still be the best off-grid cooler, but if you can get your off-grid system set up now, an Energy Star refrigerator is your best bet.
The equality of men. That ideal was the hallmark of America. It was spoken of in hushed tones across Europe and lured men from every corner of the world. The promise of equality caused men to quit their meager comforts and embark on a journey that could easily cost them their lives. To be considered an "equal", to own property, to help make laws, to be limited only by their own willingness to work hard - for such a life as this, men were willing to risk everything. And they did.
The people that built America came from all backgrounds and walks of life - but the majority had one thing in common - their lot in life. They had a station and were unable to change it regardless of hard work or circumstances. The people in positions of power ruled those beneath them, some kindly and some cruelly, but the separation between those in power and those without power was absolute and complete. The peasant, the regular Joe, was at the mercy of his better. There was no recourse, no redress. America promised an evening of the playing field. Here, you could be whatever you wanted to be - you were ruled by your peers, not your masters. But it went even further than that. In America, any man could become a lawmaker. They could determine the law for their fellow man and then live under the laws they created. The founders of our country created a government of the people, by the people and for the people. Just the utterance of the word "America" brought hope to the masses. The downtrodden sought equality and found it in the arms of America.
Slowly, insidiously, our culture has shifted. Almost imperceptibly we have allowed ourselves to transfer power from the people to the state. As we slept, cocooned in our comfort and safety, our self-government has slipped away and been replaced by an unforgiving master - The State. No longer do we live in a land of equality, but a land of "Them" and "Us".
To illustrate a tiny microcosm of this paradigm shift, read the following excerpt from a local paper:
Excerpts from scanner recordings made by Bill Gillam, of Arlington, Washington, on U.S. Highway 2/97 between Cashmere and Wenatcheee, where the speed limit is 60 mph;
Patrol trooper: "Yeah, it's another officer."
Patrol pilot in airplane: "That's a pretty good one."
Trooper: "Yeah, I had, uh, 86 on that one."
Pilot: There's a car doing 73, just pushed traffic out of the way so its got open road again inside a mile to you."
Trooper: "That 75 ain't ours, Chris, looks like it had a light bar on it."
Pilot: "Did I miss a memo today?"
Trooper: "There's a DRE (drug recognition conference) conference in Chelan tody that starts at noon."
Pilot: "Ahh, OK."
Pilot: "I got a pair coming but I'm not super optimistic about 'em, if ya know what I mean. I'll hold off on the speeds until you guys can check them out, just in case. It's a white SUV, followed by a gray car."
Trooper: "Yes, they're going to the conference."
Pilot: "All right."
Pilot: "I don't know if it matter or not but all the ones I'm calling the speeds at have been over 80."
Trooper: "They will make a little announcement at the conference."
Pilot: "Yeah, that'd be good. I mean, I understand you don't want to be late but that's a little too much."
Pilot: "A motorcycle made an unsafe lane change."
Trooper: "Seventy-two with an unsafe lane change. He cut the black car off. So 78 was the high. You're not going to believe where the motorcycle's going."
Pilot: "Let me guess - the DRE conference."
(At end of video)
Pilot: "Sorry we couldn't get more."
Trooper: (laughing) "We got plenty."
Pilot: "There will just be one more page in the reg manual.:
As I said, this is just a tiny illustration. We have allowed so many usurpations of our rights as free men that it would be impossible to recapture them. We have allowed a President to remain in office that doesn't agree with the Constitution, therefore he doesn't enforce it. We have allowed our Representatives to implement a (mandated) health care system that they have exempted themselves from. We have allowed law enforcement officers to disregard the law for themselves and only impose it on "civilians" (that means you and me). We have replaced the equality of a government of the people with a glorified caste system and now we are enjoying all of the accompanying atrocities.
It's time to make the State aware that we, the People are the true and rightful heirs. This is OUR land - not theirs. Stand up and be counted. Our founders made sacrifices for this land, are you willing to do the same?
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