In The Wild

The clouds were very low.  The day was very gray and very cold.  There was frost on everything.

I was much better at spotting wild life than I was on my last sheep spotting trip.

I was not much better at photographing the wild life.

Although, if you take 100 pictures, some of them may have mule deer in them.

Or if you are especially lucky--elk.

I consider myself to have been especially lucky yesterday.

Weekend Update

Saturday:
Exotic fruit in Bountiful Basket: 
Pummelo.  It is either an ancestor of the grapefruit or a distant relative of Pinnocchio

Sunday:
Wildlife viewed (in the wild):
Antelope
Bald Eagles
Big horn sheep
Elk
Mule deer
Whitetail deer

A Kiwi Cooking Fool

Our last bountiful basket came with an abundance of kiwis.  The men who live in my house decided that they didn't just want to eat the kiwis, they wanted to make something with kiwis.  So they googled kiwi recipes and printed three of their favorites.  And they gave me the recipes.  You already know how the fish turned out.  This is the dessert recipe.  I actually had everything in the house that I needed except the sour cream (and the garnish which I chose to omit).

The problem was not in the ingredients  It was with the preparation.

Which, as you can see had a few more than three steps.  It involved a sauce pan, and dividing and reserving.  And I lost count of how many times it requested a separate bowl. When I was done this is what I had:  

And a lovely kiwi cranberry fool dessert which looked like this:

I passed the recipe on to a friend who has not used up her kiwis yet.  I don't think I will be needing this recipe again.  Too labor intensive for me.
After dinner the STP inquired about the third recipe.  Sadly, I had to inform him I was out of kiwis.

  

One Way to Skin a Fish

In support of my daughter who is cooking and blogging bizarre foods this week, I documented my culinary exploits of the day.  I started the morning by making gluten free mixed berry walnut muffins.  They were good enough to eat.  Then I made dessert for tonight and put it in the fridge.
After work I made Chilean Sea Bass encrusted with Ginger Snaps served with a Kiwi Lime Sauce for supper.  With liberal substitutions.  Because I couldn't find any Chilean Sea Bass (or any other firm white fish as the recipe suggested), I had to substitute Meeteetse Lake Cutthroat Trout.  The STP caught them on his last ice fishing trip and they were already cleaned and in the freezer.  So they were Cold Fish from a Large Body of Water in an Exotic Place.   (See the similarity to Chilean Sea Bass?)

And because I wanted the ginger snap crumbs to be on the fish and not on the fish skin, I had the STP skin the fish.  With his fish skinner.  Which I bought him many years ago at a yard sale.  I am including a video of the fish skinner in action, in case you ever see one at a yard sale, you will know what it is and recognize it's tremendous value. 

And because the STP is gluten free, I used a bag of gluten free ginger snaps instead of baking my own.  And when it came to the kiwi lime sauce I pretty much substituted everything from the white wine to the fresh ginger (except the honey).   The appearance of the resulting sauce was less than appetizing.  (In fact, 'bile-like' may be an apt descripter.)  So I am not including any pictures of the sauce. 

 The end result was better than I expected. 

 

The sauce was a nice addition if you don't mind looking at bile sauce while you eat your fish. 

Cowboy Swing Dancing Leads To...

So baby why don't we just dance down the hall

maybe straight up the stairs bouncin' off the wall
floatin' on air baby why don't we just dance?

These are lyrics from another country song that the STP has probably never heard.  Tonight is our second dance class.  I'm sure he is looking forward to it.  I know I am.

Two Twentyfourths

Finished Book #2.  Mark Batterson's Wild Goose Chase.  Here are the gems from what I read tonight: 

Set God-sized goals. One reason many of us get entangled in sin is because we don't have enough God-ordained vision to keep us busy.  Lack of goals is a lack of faith.  We need to dream God-sized dreams. 

Makes me wonder how big is God-sized?  I'm thinking that buying goat cheese from the deli and not being eaten by bears are not exactly God-sized goals. I might need to rethink my list.  (Although organizing my photos may well require a miracle.)
Also, I think 'God-sized' will be the next size of drink at Starbucks.  Trenti, Venta, God-sized?

At My Door

Yesterday my doorbell rang.  The SLD barked. And a cute little girl peeked in the window.  Could it be?  Girls Scouts at my door? 
This is the first year since we moved that there have been Girl Scouts in Dodge City. I have been looking forward to the cookie sale since I first heard the news.  I have already filled in four order forms at Dodge City Federal.  But Girl Scouts at the door.  Irresistable.  I invited them in.  I was enthusiastic.  I thanked them for coming.  I treated them like rock stars.  I even asked if I could take their picture.  In fact, I may have exhibited all of the behaviors they warned them about in 'door-to-door selling'. 
There are only 10 Girls Scouts in Dodge City.  So far I have ordered cookies from 60% of them. 
Just doing my part.  

One 24th

Also on the list for this year is to 'read two books a month'.  For January I am finishing two books I had already started.  Today I finished "Death in Yellowstone."  I've been reading it since the Fall of 2009.  I borrowed it back then.  I will return it this week.  Kind of embarrassed how long it has taken me.  Kind of glad I finished it. 
The other book is "Wild Goose Chase."  I believe I will finish it this week.  Two of the things Mark Batterson maintains is that it should not be my goal to arrive at death as healthy as possible and that Jesus did not die to make me boring.  A lot of thinking about death here.  And about how I fill my time between now and death. 
Next month maybe I will read somthing less deep.  Like a trashy romance novel.  
And avoid being eaten by bears.
It's important to set achievable goals.

Things One Should Not Do

One should not go to a country swing dancing class one evening and watch The Horse Whisperer the following evening.  Especially if one has had a crush on Robert Redford since she was in high school.  It will make one hanker for a pair of cowboy boots and Robert Redford to touch the small of one's back. 

If the STP figures out how to use this to his advantage, country western could be his new favorite music.



Swing High

The STP and I signed up to take a swing dancing class at the Dodge City Rec Center.  Which is to say that I signed the STP and me up to take a swing dancing class at the Rec Center.  When I went to sign up the full title of the class turned out to be "Country Swing Dancing".  I was going to avoid mentioning that 'country' part to the STP.  But when he started playing his old swing music this morning, I thought I had better fess up.  So he would know what to expect.  Or at least what not to expect.  We start tonight.  I expect I'll either have a good time or a good story. 

Grace, Grace

Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God's grace.  And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God's grace.  Every day should be a day of relating to God on the basis of His grace alone.

--Jerry Bridges

Just a reminder.

My Wish

I grew up listening to country music.  Back before it was cool for young people to listen to country music.  It was my parents' music.  Now I only listen to country music in my car.  The STP considers country music an oxymoron.  If he is in my car for more than a minute he changes the radio station.  Sometimes he changes the station when he is just walking by the car.  Rascal Flatts sings this song.  

I hope you never look back, but ya never forget,

All the ones who love you, in the place you left,

I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,

And you help somebody every chance you get,

Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake,

And you always give more than you take.

But more than anything, yeah, and more than anything,

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,

Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small,

You never need to carry more than you can hold,

And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,

I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,

Yeah, this, is my wish.

It made me think of my girls on my way to work this morning.  I must confess that I have no idea who Rascal Flatts is.  I think he might look like Alfalfa from the Little Rascals--only flatter.  Of course I get Lady Gaga mixed up with Lady Antebellum, who evidently is not a lady at all, but a group of mostly men.  Go figure.  The reason I don't know these things is because my girls are gone.   They were the ones who kept me current.  Who kept me from embarrassing myself with my total lack of knowledge of all current culture things.  Like wearing Corona sandals to church camp.  Who knew?  They did, of course.  So while I do wish that their dreams stay big and that they know that I love them, my real wish is that they were closer.  I really miss them.

What You Already Are

The Princess made a series of lists this week.  Including this one of what she wants to be.  What she might not know is that I've made a few lists of my own on this same subject. 

Here is a list of what I wanted her to be. I have a list like this for each of her sisters as well.  Each list is a little different.  Adjusted for each of their little individual personalities.  A list of what I, as their mother,wanted them to be.

Along with each trait, I have listed a corresponding Bible verse. 

 The Queen of Queens discovered my list and edited it for me.  (She has been making her own lists since she only knew seven letters of the alphabet.)

 I have had these lists in the same notebook for over twenty years. (Most recently it was in the yellow basket in the dining room.)  I never stopped wanting the best for my girls.  But I wasn't always as intentional as I wanted to be in moving them in the right direction.  But this week, when I looked over each of the lists I had made for them so many years ago, I realized that they already are these things.  I can't think of anyone more compassionate than the Princess.  Or any one more generous than the Queen.  Or anyone more unselfish than Amidala.  So while the big goal was to grow them up and move them out, and it seems like we focused a lot of time and energy on learning to do things, it is encouraging to see who they became.  And I love who they are.

Happy Feet

I have these great socks.  Hand knit socks.  My wonderful sister knit them for me.  I wore them today and they made me happy.  I used to not wear them very often, because I didn't want them to wear out.  But today I decided that if they get a hole in them, I will still be happy that I had them. 

The Bottom of the Basket

I spent the last two days sorting through papers from 2010 and getting my files ready for 2011. Just when I thought I was done (and declared just that) the STP asked if I had cleaned out the yellow basket.  The yellow basket stays under the temporary table in the dining room.  I put important things in there that I don't know what else to do with.  And when company is coming for dinner and we need the whole table for the meal, I scoop the pile of papers off the table and put it in the basket with a promise to deal with it later.  Yesterday was later.  I emptied that basket and sorted it into piles on the big room floor. And then I dealt with most of it.  (There were just a few things I still had no idea what to do with so I put them back in the basket.) 
In the basket there were three lists of goals and things to do this year.  Every list had 'sort and organize photos' or some variant thereof.  Every list has 'eat healthy' and 'lose weight'.  Even though they are not dated I can put them in order by the amount of weight I was going to lose. 
So far this year I have lost 0.5 pounds.  I guess I need to pick up the pace.
Never give up.  Never surrender.

Stolen Blessings

I stole this blessing from Mark Batterson's blog, but I mean it for you.  And for me.  (I did the pancake art myself.)

May you be full of life and good health. May you be surrounded by authentic friends. May you find strength in the Lord when others tear you down. May you live by the covenant God has given and hold his Word dear to your heart. May God bless the talent He has given to you, that it would be realized in full potential for His purposes. May you find rest and peace in the midst of God’s presence. May this be a year of abundant provision for your every need. May God give you resolve and persistence to overcome for His good purposes. May you live in thankfulness and lead others into righteousness. May God give you the courage to speak grace and truth. May you grow into the place of leadership God has destined for you. May the favor of the Lord drench the fullness of your life. May you trust the living God to guide & protect you. May you continue to live with the knowledge of your salvation. God is your protector and helper in all times. May you experience the fullness of God’s destined blessing this coming year. Amen.

(Adapted from Deuteronomy 33. Thanks to Executive Pastor, Joel Schmidgall, for the message and the blessing.)

EVOO

Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Deli Purchases Put to Good Use

Dear Italian SIL,  Please do not read this post.  It will be too traumatic for you.

Last evening I cooked.  I zested a lemon and pressed a garlic clove and caramelized some onions.  I made my own lemon vinaigrette.  I used my goat cheese and my prosciutto. And some EVOO.  I felt pretty much like an Italian chef.  I practiced saying Mootserell.  I started with appetizers.  

Of course, I didn't follow the recipe exactly.  I could not find fig jam in Dodge City. (I briefly considered making my own.  After all, a woman who can zest a lemon could surely jam a fig or two.) So I substituted red plum jam.  And I couldn't find arugula.  So I used Romaine lettuce in it's place.And in the end I had wonderful little appetizers. 

I had three of them.  For people with little appetites. 

 And since none of the three people eating here was remotely Italian, nor remotely interested in little appetizers, it was all good. 

And then I used the rest of my goat cheese and the rest of my prosciutto and a boatload of mootserell and made a gluten free calzone.  Which was stellar, if I must say so myself.

I used my Pampered Chef Pastry brush to apply the EVOO.

 All I need now is my Italian SIL to tell me if EVOO is pronounceable.

. 

Deli-t-ful

Yesterday was the day I went to the deli. 

I went right after work because I knew if I went home I would not go back out and I would put it off for another day.  It was not as scary as I had made it out to be.  I didn't have to stand in line or take a number.  A very helpful deli worker offered to help me before I even knew what I wanted.  I was frantically scanning the deli case for goat cheese.  I didn't see any goat cheese or prosciutto.
Me:  Do you have goat cheese?
Deli Girl:  Yes,  over there.   And she helpfully directed me to the goat cheese.
Me:  Do you have prosciutto?
Deli Girl:  What?
Me:  Prosciutto? (Oh no.  I was pronouncing it the only way I knew how.  Like my Italian SIL.  What if it was like Mozzarella--Mootzerell?  But since I didn't have an alternate pronunciation I pressed on...) Thin sliced ham-like meat?
DG to self:  Where is this woman from?  Has she never been to a deli counter before?  What will she do with these exotic food items?  How long till my break?
DG to Me:  Yes, over there.  Right next to the goat cheese.
Me:  Oh.  Umm, thank you.

Witness then my first purchases from the deli in Dodge City. 

Yet somehow buying prepackaged items labeled 'deli' did not seem to meet the criteria of buying something from the deli.  And I'm pretty sure my Italian SIL would not even consider this a deli.  So I fought the urge to call it a day and spoke to the Deli Girl once more.

Me:  Umm, can I have half a pound of turkey breast?

(I had no plan to buy turkey breast.  I had no plan to use turkey breast.)

Deli girl:  Sliced?

Me:  Ummm, yes?

Deli girl:  For sandwiches?
Me:  Umm? Yes! 
Of course, our gluten free existence does not really lend itself to sandwiches.  But as I did not have another plan, I welcomed the sandwich idea and just went with it.

TA DA!  Ms. Brenda conquers fear of deli counter. 

Oh, that all my goals were so easily accomplished.

Not Going There

I may be avoiding the grocery store because of the deli counter. When I finally get to the deli counter I am going to buy something exotic.  Like goat cheese or prosciutto.  Or maybe both and I am going to combine them with lemon zest and make little appetizers.  Do you think this is too ambitious for the first week of January?

Clean Sweep

Things I cleaned this week:
1.  The oven
2.  The china cupboard
3.  The chandelier

Set the Timer and Run

I like that my kids took this picture of themselves.  I like that they like each other.  I'd like them to really be all in a vehicle headed to see me.  I'd like it to be warmer than 3 degrees above zero so that when they got here we could go and play in the park.   Can you tell I miss my kids? 

Relatively Speaking

My Dad always claimed that there were some of my Mom's relatives that he liked better than his own.  For instance, he was fonder of her mother-in-law than he was of his.
A coworker shared this story about her mother-in law on Christmas: 
M-I-L:  In the 28 years you've been married to Joe, this is the first year you got me something that actually fits.
Some women just know how to give out a compliment, don't they?
No new mother-in-law stories for me.  From here on I AM the mother-in-law and I will be saying and doing things to keep my sons-in-law's lives interesting.  (Love you guys.)
And, oddly enough, I do miss my mother-in-law.

Men in Hats

Ever since we moved to Wyoming the STP has wanted a truck and a hat.  I mean ever since we thought about moving to Wyoming.  (Maybe he has been dreaming of a truck and a hat since he was a little boy.)   I was not in favor of either one.  (Remember that I am a 'late adopter'.)   Last May he got his truck.  For Christmas he finally got his hat.  And I might like his hat even more than I like his truck.  

And when he wears his hat in his truck, I wonder why I resisted so long. 

The Goob already has a hat, but it is not particularly Western.  I couldn't even imagine him as a cowboy.  But maybe there's more wild west in him than he lets on. 

Or maybe a truck and a hat just bring out his inner outlaw. 

I love these guys.

1/1/11 A Little Behind

Still have a few blog posts from 2010 rattling around in my head.  The phrase 'just a little behind' comes to mind. I am posting this from my new laptop.  Trying to figure out Windows 7 (whose idea was this?).  Remember when you had a cordless phone and I had a rotary phone attached to the wall?  And the week after I got my cell phone (with 30 -count them- anytime minutes) which was the size of a small walkie-talkie and everyone else got a flip phone?  Well now I have a phone that flips and I finally figured out how to send a text message and everyone else has a slidey smart phone with a full keyboard.  And now that everyone else has an Ipad, I am trying to figure out how to use the touchpad on my laptop.  Mark Batterson used the term 'late adopter' to describe himself in these matters.  I think 'late adopter' appeals to me more than 'old fogey'.
Besides buying chipped ham, I am going to master this computer and add
2.  Organize my digital photos
to my list of things to do in 2011.  I'm starting this weekend.  (Why are you laughing?  It could happen.)  While I am at it, I might as well add
3.  Reach and maintain a healthy weight. 
Oh, that 2011 would be the year I really got a little behind.