Short Sunday

Whew! Yesterday's post was waaaayy too long! So today we'll keep it short and sweet.

On Sunday I had a visitor in Relief Society comment that she remembered me having more kids? But they must be getting old enough now that some of them are moving away, huh?
What?!?!  NO!!!!
I looked like I only had four kids on Sunday because Robyn, Ben and Emily all went to Kellon's farewell instead of to our Sacrament Meeting.  Kellon has been such a great friend to all three of them, and we wish him the best in Virginia.

 I was kind of sad that I couldn't attend Kellon's farewell myself, but I had two lessons to teach that day, and I didn't want to be rushing in late to Sunday School.  So I just charged the kids with telling him we love him and having fun at his luncheon.  I think they did it quite well.

Sunday at our house was pretty normal.  The kids walked home from church, which gave Annie lots of opportunities to collect "treasures," and bring them home to show me.
She found "a reeeeally long bungee cord, and this leaf, and this leaf, and this leaf, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one..."

Friday Adventures

This summer we've designated Friday as "Adventure Day."  It's usually the day I go to the temple, and I bring the kids with me to Manti to hang out at Grandma Jordan's until I'm done.  After I get back from the temple, we go on some sort of adventure, such as swimming or playing at a park.
This week Jef and I went to the temple on Thursday night, so I didn't feel like I needed to go again on Friday morning.  That left us open to other options for our Friday Adventure, and we decided to head to Maple Grove for a picnic. 

Miraculously, we actually got all seven kids to come with us!
Of course, the picnicking part didn't last long before the younger kids headed for the creek.  There were people in the spot that's next to the rope swing, but that didn't bother my kids.  They just walked right in and made themselves at home.

Cannon was a real sweetie about helping his sisters on the swing, and they all had a fantastic time.  The big kids, of course, just sat at the picnic table talking, reading, and sleeping.  What is it about getting big that makes us so boring?

The younger kids could have played all day, but Ben was supposed to be at his swim meet at 4:30, so we had to cut the fun short and head out.  The only thing was that I had forgotten to check the fuel before we left Richfield, and I wasn't sure that we had enough to make it back.  I wasn't sure which was closer, Scipio or Richfield, but I finally decided that Scipio might be a tiny bit closer.  Looking back, I'm not sure that that's true, but we headed for Scipio, anyway, to get more fuel before heading home.  And, of course, if you're going to stop at a place with a Dairy Queen, you have to get ice cream!
The kids also couldn't leave without visiting the petting zoo, but they were taking forever to come back, so I went to check on them.  Turns out, they couldn't figure out how to get out of the goat/sheep pen because whenever they opened the gate, all the goats and sheep would follow them out!

We finally got the kids out of the pen, and all the goats and sheep back in, but by then we were going to be way late for Ben's swim meet.  It was his last one of the summer, and he did an awesome job.

 He beat Jaden at the butterfly but I guess he had false started, so they disqualified him and gave Jaden the first place medal.  :(
But he got lots of other first place medals, so he was ok, and he and Jaden are still good friends.

It was a little more adventurous than our Friday usually are, but in the end it was just a lot of fun.

Boxes of Fun

For Storytime this week, I was reading the book Not a Box, and decided that I wanted some big boxes for the kids to play with while they were waiting for Storytime to start.  I went to the furniture store on the morning of Storytime (why do I never learn to think ahead?), and they had a dryer box that they said I could have.  I drove around back and tried to fit it in Max, but no luck.  The box was just too big.  I thought about breaking it down to make it fit, but I wasn't sure that would do the trick, and it wasn't going to be easy to break it down.  So what to do?  I did consider just walking it to the library.  It had a small opening between the flaps on one end that my head might have fit through.  I could just wear the box, and walk the 5 blocks to the library!  But I wasn't actually very excited about that plan.
My second idea was to go and borrow a truck.  I have friends with an old truck that spends most of its time sitting under a tree, so I texted and asked if I could borrow it.  (Storytime starts at 11:00, and it is now about 10:15.)  They said sure, and I headed over there.  The husband had to do a bit of tinkering to get it to start, but it started alright, and I jumped in.
When I was 15 and begging my parents to teach me how to drive, the only car we owned was a Dodge Caravan that was a standard or, in other words, a stick shift.  That's how I learned to drive, and when I got in the Driver's Ed car for my driving test, and it was an Automatic, I had to ask directions.  So I know how to drive a stick shift, but it's been about twenty years or so since I've actually driven one.  That, combined with the fact that the seat absolutely refused to move in order to accommodate my short legs, made for an interesting drive.  I am a little overly proud to say that I did drive that truck to the furniture store and then to the library without killing it once or crashing into anything.  Thank you, thank you, thank you very much.
So I finally got my big, beautiful box to the library, and...  it wouldn't fit through the door.  So I was going to have to break it down, after all.  I had good reasons for not wanting to break it down in the first place.  One end was cut off already, so it was just open, but the end with flaps still intact was glued shut. And they didn't use just a little glue, either.  I imagine them using great puddles of super glue on those flaps.  I guess if it had to hold a dryer in, then it needed lots of glue, but I think they went a tad overboard.
After using scissors, rulers, and brute force, I finally got that box taken apart and through the door.  Luckily there was a youngster hanging around outside the library whom I recruited to crawl inside the box and tape it back up for me.
It was now about 10:50, and all I had to do was drive the truck back to my friend's house and drive Max back to the library.
I am happy to say that I slid into home (er, the library) at 10:59, and pulled off a storytime that all the kids loved!
Even happier were the kids at my house when I brought the boxes home to them two days later.  (Turns out the box does fit in the back of Max when it's flat)

A Stupor of Thought

I had a kind of cool thing happen to me yesterday.  Well, I guess the cool thing was really the day before that.  My bread recipe that I make every week makes four loaves of bread, but we can only eat three before it goes bad, so each week I give a loaf away.  This week, though, when I was trying to think of someone to take the extra loaf to, I could not think of a single person.  There are lots of people I could have taken the bread to.  I have neighbors all around me, and a whole ward of people who eat bread.  There are several people who have volunteered to take my bread any time I want to give it to them, but on that day I could not think of a single person.  It was like we were the last people on earth, and everyone else had disappeared.  I guess the best description I can give is that I had a stupor of thought.  It was kind of weird, but since there was no one to give the bread to, I just put a loaf in the freezer and went on with the day.

The next day I was at the library when a family came in to return their books and get their Summer Reading prizes.  Their books were quite late, and they owed quite a bit in fines.  Like I usually do for loyal patrons, I asked the mom how much she had with her that she could pay towards fines.  She looked a little doubtful, but finally brought me the $5 out of her truck that she had been saving to buy bread, a $2 bill from one of her kids, and a $1 bill.  I told her I thought it would be wrong to use a $2 bill for library fines, but I took the six dollars and cleared all their fines.  She told me how she thought this month had been good for her kids, to teach them that money doesn't grow on trees, and you can't just go to the grocery store whenever you want and buy everything.  She also said that they were going to be paid in a week, and they would go grocery shopping then.

Did you hear my cue in there?  As soon as my shift was over at the library, I wrapped up a loaf of bread and set out to find their house.  It wasn't easy to find, but when I finally found it I realized that I drive past it all the time on the way to "the Ranch," which is where my parents keep their animals.

I was so grateful for the stupor of thought that had stopped me from giving a loaf of bread the day before, and the family seemed grateful for the loaf of bread.  I also took them one of those reusable grocery bags because the one they had been using for their library books was literally in shreds.

I hope I don't sound like I'm bragging here, because what I really wanted to show with this post was how amazing the Spirit is and to share another way in which he directs our paths.  Sometimes he doesn't need to give instructions.  He just needs to keep us stumped until we see the right path for ourselves. 

Missing Children

On Monday we had a hectic morning, and I had to be gone from about 10:00 to 1:00.  I asked Cannon to take Annie to lunch, and since they pretty much do that every day, I didn't worry about it.  When I got home at 1:00, there was no sign of Cannon and Annie.  The only thing Robyn could tell me was that they had left for lunch at about 11:15.  I walked over to Ashman to look for them on the playground, but they weren't there.  I checked at Whitmore's, and even Anna Snedeger's house, but they weren't around.  I called Jef to see if he knew where they were, and my next call would have been to the police, but Jennie and Lydia suggested I check the the library.  Sure enough, my missing children had been hanging out at the library while I searched the town for them.

My children often come and hang out at the library while I'm working there.  I always thought that it was because that's where I was and they like to hang out with me.  But I guess that I'm not the main attraction at the library, after all, since Cannon and Annie had no problem with spending a couple hours there without me.  I guess it's a good thing that I've given them a love for the library, I just wish they would tell me when they were going.  Maybe I would've wanted to come, too!

Cheerios and Growing Up

I know that my kids are getting bigger, of course.  That's what kids do, after all.  But I think I lose track of how much they're growing and how fast they're doing it.
Yesterday I watched some kids for a friend, and there was a little girl who was two and a half.  She found a stool that she could carry, and used it to follow me around the kitchen, watching everything I did and being right in the way if possible.  Between me and the bread I was kneading would be a perfect spot, for example.  All of my kids have done this, but when that little girl did it, I suddenly realized that Annie hadn't done that in a while.  In fact, it's probably been more than a year since she did that.  How did I not notice?
What Annie does now is to steal my phone and take pictures.  Selfies are best, of course, but anything that she considers noteworthy should also be caught on camera. 

 Sunday morning, after she had finished taking selfies while I did her hair, she decided that the shape her Cheerios made on the spoon was the coolest thing ever, and deserved a picture. 

 

That went so well, that she included a picture of the Cheerios in her bowl.  I'm not sure what it was that made the Cheerios in her bowl significant - something about them being on the side instead of in the milk. Whatever it was, it is now recorded for posterity.

 

It makes me sad to realize that my kids are getting bigger, and even more sad to think that I'm missing it, somehow.  I imagine every mother has these moments, though, and I wouldn't really want them to stay babies forever.  It's fun to see the new things that they're learning and the people that they're becoming.  But it's also important to stop and enjoy the moments that I have with them.  And maybe it's also important to marvel over the small things, like the Cheerios in my bowl.

Family Reunion

It's that time of year again!  The Anderson Family Reunion is an indispensable part of summer, and we wouldn't think of missing it.  As usual, we set a time for when we would depart, and left about 4 hours after that.  Luckily we still got there in time for dinner, so it's all good.  Some years we get there after everyone has gone to bed, so we did pretty well this year.  One of the things we had to do before we left was go to the dentist for checkups, and I was really worried that it would take all day.  But we go to an awesome dentist, and they did all four kids at once, so we got out of there in no time! (I split my kids into two groups for checkups.  Seven checkups in one day is just too many.)

On the way to the reunion, I realized that I had forgotten my camera!  Grrrrr.....
So all I had was my phone, and I didn't use it much.  So apologies for the lack of pictures.  You'll just have to use your imagination.

One of the activities that Melica had planned was Zentangles.  It is really just organized doodling, but it's a lot of fun, and fairly addictive.  You start with a square piece of paper and draw a dot in each corner.  With those dots you create a frame for your Zentangle. Then you draw the "string," which is just a random line that wanders into each of the four quarters of your paper.  This has some zen significance, but I can't remember what it is.  Then you add what lines you'd like to break it up into sections, and fill in each section with a design.  It can be as elaborate or as simple as you would like.  Here are the Zentangles that I made and brought home.  They're kind of fun, huh?


There was a playground right by our campsite, a creek running past, and lots of cousins to play with, so the kids had lots to do and didn't really hang around me too much.  The only times I really saw Annie were when she needed to change her clothes again.  The poor girl is terrified of loud sounds, so any toilet that has a flush louder than a home toilet is not an option unless I'm there to flush it after she leaves.  I'm afraid this resulted in several accidents during the reunion.  That, combined with the creek, meant that she was wearing her pajamas on the way home because they were the only dry clothes she had left.

Cannon brought his stilts with him, and walked all over the campground.  He ran into a problem, though, when he tried to show off and made them so high that he couldn't get on them without a really high something to step off of.  All his cousins had fun trying them, and Cannon had fun being the best at it.

The very best part, though, was when the kids did their musical number.  We have the same number of kids as the VonTrapp family in the The Sound of Music, and they are even in the same order and everything!  So we have wanted to do this musical number for several years, but we have been waiting for Annie to be able to sing her part.  This year she is finally big enough, so we got it ready for the reunion.  The kids did an awesome job, and had so much fun.

Too Full to Hold

Ben was finally home for a day yesterday, and I begged him to take care of his clean laundry, which has been piling up in the laundry room.  He was having a little difficulty putting it away, and came up to the kitchen to tell me how he was sure he owned at least 50 t-shirts.  I believed him, because it seems like every time that boy leaves the house he comes home with a new shirt. Every activity these days has to have a shirt to go with it, and Ben attends them all.


Ben was back to the kitchen about 10 minutes later, looking a little sheepish.  He admitted to me that he had broken his t-shirt drawer.
"You broke your drawer?" I asked.
Turns out, he had done exactly that.  His drawer couldn't actually hold 50 t-shirts, but he had done his best to stuff them all in until it was literally full to bursting.  The poor guy was a little distressed, but I thought it was pretty funny.  We may need to come up with a different solution for his t-shirts - like a flat bed truck, maybe.

Children's Parade

It's a sad day when you have kids who are too old to ride in the Children's Parade.   There was a time when all of my kids were super excited about decorating their bikes and riding in the parade.  Alas, time passes, and my sweet little kids turn into big kids who think they're too old for Children's parades.
This year, Jennie, Lydia, and Annie were super excited about decorating bikes and getting ready for the parade, so they went out to the garage and started decorating.  I think Cannon was secretly excited, too, but didn't want anyone to know, so helped Annie decorate the wagon, and then volunteered to pull her in the parade.
Robyn, Ben, and Emily were just not interested and Robyn wasn't even going to come watch.  But they don't know how tricky their mother can be.  Bwah-ha-ha!

We got the girls all ready and started walking over to the tabernacle.  Lydia quickly found that her bike was way too slow to even keep up with us walking.  So I sent Ben back to the house for some rope, and talked him into pulling Lydia on her bike for the parade. 

We got to the Tabernacle and started the usual waiting for 30 minutes before the parade actually starts.  Cannon finally caught up with us, and Emily had walked over with us because she was going to watch the parade with me.  

At almost the last minute, Robyn came over to join us.  The parade was just about to start, and we were headed for the van to go find a place to watch.  Then I remembered that someone would need to hold the ward sign.  Our Primary President has been very sick recently (she's expecting twins, poor girl), and I went back to ask if she needed help.  Robyn and Emily followed me, and that's how they ended up holding the ward sign.  Hee hee.


The parade went very well, with no crashes or accidents between the Tabernacle and the City Park.  It wasn't even very hot, since it had been raining earlier in the day.  (And yes, I did walk out in the road and make my kids stop to take a picture during the parade.  That's Ben in the background.)

Of course the popsicles at the end are the best part, and the real reason that everyone does the Children's Parade.  (Except Robyn, who couldn't eat one because of all the sugar :(

And that is how I managed to get all of my kids into the Children's Parade this year.  See how tricky I am?  Now I just have to come up with a plan for next year....

On Pretending

So the other day I was talking to a lady, and ended up being accused of pretending to be someone's friend.  From the way she said it, I'm guessing she considered this a pretty heinous crime.  I wasn't really sure what she meant, so I may very well have been guilty.  But I have been thinking a lot about it.  What does it mean to pretend to be someone's friend?  And is it wrong?
How do you get to be someone's friend without being nice in the first place - before you're really friends?  Is that pretending to be someone's friend?  And what about visiting teaching?  I visit ladies every month that I'm not best friends with.  Am I just pretending to be their friend?  And what about the crazy lady who sits next to me in Relief Society and rants to me about her ex-husband clear through the lesson?  Am I pretending to be her friend as I nod politely?  Am I being unfair or dishonest?  What exactly does it mean to pretend to be someone's friend?  If I bring you a loaf of bread, but I'm not interested in becoming blood-brothers (sisters?), raising your children, and letting you run my life, does that mean I'm somehow being false?  Am I just pretending to be your friend?  Have I done something wrong?
I am not writing this post in self-defense. I'm really wondering: Am I guilty? I imagine most of you had this figured out in first grade, but I tend to be a little slow at real-life common sense. 
I can see that a blatant two-faced deception would be very hurtful.  If I lovingly listen to all your deepest secrets, then go blab them to someone else and complain about what a whiner you are, then that would be wrong.  But what if you corner me at church and spill your guts all over my best shirt, even though I was just trying to slip past you to the drinking fountain?  If I avoid you next week, does that mean that I was just pretending to be your friend? 
And how does one pretend to be a friend, anyway?  Being a friend is helping, sharing, talking, caring, and laughing together.  How do you pretend to do all that without actually doing it? 
I admit, I've done all that and then finally gotten tired of the person and decided that I didn't want to do all that anymore. End of friendship.  But does that mean that we never really were friends?  Was I just pretending to be her friend?  Was I not a real friend if I wasn't willing to commit to a lifetime? Was I just pretending?
I haven't figured out all of these answers yet, but I have decided that the root of the problem is deception.  People don't like to be deceived.  They like to think that you're being upfront and honest with them all the time.  Unfortunately, it's very difficult to be both honest and polite at all times.  So what to do?  Will people be more offended by my lack of tact, or by my lack of honesty?  Do you really want to know that I don't like you?  If I'm polite to you, will you think we're friends, and then be hurt when you find out later that I couldn't stand you?  Would it be better not to be polite to people who annoy me?
So the way I see it, there's only two options, here.  At least, only two options if you're looking to be honest in your relationships.  You can either be a jerk and tell everyone exactly how much they annoy you all the time, or you can learn to honestly love everyone.  (Or at least like them.  Let's go with baby steps, here.) 
In Relief Society a couple of weeks ago, they passed out bracelets that had a C, a G, and another C on them.  The letters stood for Criticize, Gossip, and Complain, and they were supposed to remind us not to do those things.  (My bracelet was missing the second C, so I figure I'm free to complain all I want. :)  Yes!)  As I wore my bracelet, I started to notice how closely the three sins were tied together.  If I say "Lucy is so annoying,"  is that criticism, gossip, or complaining?  How do I criticize without gossiping or complaining?  How do I complain without criticizing or gossiping? I guess I could do it to Lucy's face, and then that wouldn't be gossiping.  But it would still be criticizing and complaining.
I started to realize how much of all three I tend to do in a day, and I also realized how difficult it was not to voice all the rude thoughts that popped into my head.  Even when I said, "thank you for signalling, sir," to a car which did not signal, my kids still said that was criticizing.  Sheesh!  I've had to almost give up talking altogether.
Which brings us back around to the same point.  How to be honest and nice at the same time - all the time?  I have never wanted to be a really nice person.  I know, that's a crazy thing to say, but in my experience, nice people get treated very badly.  They are used and abused and walked over all the time, and I just never wanted to be one of those people.  But I may have to change my tune.  I'm learning how very important it is to be genuinely nice, and how hard it is to be honest and polite when you're only nice sometimes or not at all. Of course, it's not hard to do with people that you like, or people that you get along well with.  But even those people are hard to deal with sometimes.  Even the nicest people have their annoying quirks.
So the only real solution is to learn to like people.  The only way to really stop making critical comments is to stop thinking them. The only way to stop complaining is to learn to appreciate.  The only way to avoid only pretending to be a friend is to always be a real friend.
Easy? No.  And as soon as I started trying, it got harder.  People have been even more annoying, they've done more stupid things, and made even more irritating remarks. And I'm pretty sure it's not just my imagination.  I'm pretty sure I'm not just noticing them more.  I am sure that any resolve must be tested.  And boy is mine being tested.  (Not that I'm complaining of course. ;)

Food Storage, Hairstyles, and a Bread Recipe

I don't know how it is at your house, but at my house the food storage has always been off limits.  I was very proud of all those #10 cans, and it was clearly understood by everyone that they were not to be touched until the day when we had nothing else to eat.  Soon after we were married (15.5 years ago), Jef and I made an attempt to get some food storage for our new family.  We didn't make much headway, but we did acquire a few cans of food.  It was a comfort to know we had them, and they have been sitting on a shelf ever since.  But for some reason a couple of months ago, I opened a couple of them.  I opened one can of white flour, and one can of wheat.  Who knew that I was actually opening a whole new phase in my cooking?

First of all, the white flour was disgusting.  It was seriously awful.  It just tasted and smelled stale, and it passed on that stale taste everywhere it went. I did manage to make it through the whole can, but it certainly opened my eyes to the state of my food storage.  The can of wheat was better.  It didn't taste or smell stale, but it had definitely lost something during those years of sitting, because there was just no way on earth to make my bread rise when I used that wheat.  (And I'm pretty sure I did try everything on earth.)

So it was clearly time to do something different.  I decided I needed to start making more of my own bread.  I had started making our bread a while before this, but I had been using half white flour and half whole wheat.  But if we're living on our food storage, then white flour is going to become very precious very quickly.  And whole wheat flour is better for you, anyway, right?  So I went in search of a bread recipe that used all whole wheat flour.

I had been using this recipe off of Nicole's food blog, and it was fabulous.  Everyone loved this bread, but it did call for half white flour.  It seemed fairly simple to me to just substitute the white flour for wheat and proceed as normal.  Wrong.  Turns out that leaving out all the white flour results in bread that just doesn't rise very well.  (Even when you're using fresh wheat.)  So we ate some very short, dense loaves of bread for a few weeks until I got sick of it and went looking for a new recipe.

I soon found that the term "Whole Wheat Bread" can mean anything from half wheat/half white flour to adding just one cup of wheat flour.  Rarely does "Whole Wheat Bread" mean that there is no white flour involved.  Who knew?  But I finally found a 100%-whole-wheat recipe that claimed to rise beautifully.  And it did!  It just didn't taste very good, is all.  Sigh.


So here's the part where hairstyles comes in.  (You were wondering, weren't you.)  My theory on recipes is that they're a lot like hairstyles.  Several times my ward Relief Society has passed out a recipe which people were supposed to make and bring to a dinner.  Funny thing is, when we got to the dinner, every dish was different!  And I know that every woman there was thinking, "What is wrong with these people?  Can't they follow a recipe?"  And every woman who made that recipe thought that she was doing exactly what the recipe said.

But recipes are like hairstyles.  Even if you cut your hair exactly like someone else's, it's still going to look different - because it's on you!  No one else's hair does just what yours does.  That lady over there doesn't have your cowlicks, or your wavy parts, or your straight parts.  Her hair is thinner or thicker or finer or coarser than yours.  And even if somehow her hair was exactly the same as yours, she still blow dries it in a different pattern around her head, or holds her curling iron differently, and after all that she has different cheekbones and a different jaw line and different eyes, and it just doesn't look the same.

And that's how it is with recipes.  Probably without realizing it, you have developed your own style of cooking.  You like to add the ingredients in a certain order, and you like to use certain spoons for certain things.  You've decided it's important scrape off every cup of flour, or you've decided that just shaking it til it looks even across the top is good enough.  You diligently measure out every teaspoon of vanilla, or you've given up and just give a good "bloop" for every teaspoon. However you run your kitchen, you've got your own way of doing things, and that will be reflected in the end product, no matter how closely you think you're following the recipe.

My mom made wonderful bread when I was growing up, and it always (that I can remember, anyway), turned out perfectly and was super yummy.  But shortly after I got married I tried to make her bread, and it just wasn't as good.  I always ended up with big holes in my loaves, and the bread didn't have good "crumb."  It just fell apart, and I couldn't even butter a slice without getting a lap full of crumbs. Not that it was dry, it just needed to be a little more dense than it was, and I couldn't figure out how to fix it.  Thus ended my bread-making for many years.  That bread recipe matched my mom's cooking style perfectly, but not mine.  A lady told me a story once about a peanut salad that her mother-in-law made, but which she could never get right.  She even had her mother-in-law stand in her kitchen one time to tell her every step, and it still didn't taste the same.

So I needed to take the best from these two bread recipes and make a recipe that would work for me.  It took several attempts, but I have now settled on the final version.  So part of the reason for the way-too-long preface is that I don't want you to feel bad if this recipe doesn't work for you.  You're different!  And since this recipe is the result of many experiments, it's ok for you to experiment with it as well.  Just because this hairstyle/recipe works great for me, it doesn't mean it won't need some tweaking before it will work for you.  So here you go.

My Version of

100% Whole Wheat Bread

that Tastes Yummy and

Actually Rises

Makes 4 loaves

Ingredients:

13 cups whole wheat flour, divided

1 cup seeds or nuts (optional) (ie flax, sesame, sunflower, whatever.  I like to grind up 7-grain cereal.)

4 1/2 tsp yeast

1 cup mashed potatoes

6 Tbs applesauce (or oil, cooked mashed beans, or cooled melted butter)

1 cup warm milk*

3 eggs

1 cup sugar

5 tsp salt
1/2 cup vital wheat gluten (this will really help your bread to rise, but if you don't have any, then make the bread anyway.)

water (see below for amounts)

Directions:

1. Soak for at least 30 minutes:

     6 cups flour

     5 cups warm water

     1 cup seeds (optional)

     Cover with a damp tea towel

Flour/water mixture shouldn't be too watery. Water should just mix into the flour without any excess.  Make sure there is no dry flour.  Add by the Tbs if more water is needed.  (I've never needed more water.)

2. Start sponge (15 to 20 minutes before starting)

     In 1/2 cup warm water, gently combine 4 1/2 tsp yeast and 1 Tbs sugar until just mixed.

    Set aside.

 Sponge should be visibly active - bubbles forming, etc. (much more than I was used to) - before adding to the recipe.

3.  After flour is soaked and sponge is bubbly, combine in mixer bowl and mix well:

     Sponge                                           3 eggs

     1 cup mashed potatoes                    1 cup sugar

     6 Tbs applesauce (or substitute)       5 tsp salt

     1 cup warm milk*                            wet flour & seed mixture
     1/2 cup vital wheat gluten

  

     * If you didn't add the seeds or nuts, use 1 Tbs dry powdered milk, instead.  

               You don't need the extra liquid.

4. Mix/knead in 6 - 7 cups more flour to the right consistency. Dough should feel pliable and not dry.

5. Knead for 15 minutes. (Yes, you can use your mixer, but take it out and knead it for the last 5      
 minutes by hand.)  Sprinkle counter with small amount of flour as needed to prevent sticking.

6. Place dough in large, greased bowl. Cover with a damp tea towel. Place in warm (not hot!) place and allow to rise until double. (About 1 hour.)

7. Remove from bowl, punch down, and knead by hand for 2 minutes. Divide into 4 equal parts.

8. Knead each individual loaf for 1 minute and form into a loaf. (One recipe suggested rolling it with a rolling pin, then roll up the dough and pinch the ends.)  Place in greased loaf pan.  Repeat for all 4 loaves.  Cover with a damp tea towel. 

9.  Allow to rise until double; about an hour.

10. Bake at 350 degrees for about 35 minutes.  (Bread is not like cake.  It's better to bake it as long as the recipe says and bake it less next time if necessary.)

11. Remove pans from oven and immediately remove loaves from pans.  Place on a wire rack and brush the tops with butter.  Let cool completely before placing in plastic bags. 

In keeping with the food storage theme, I make my mashed potatoes with potato pearls, use powdered eggs and powdered milk, and the applesauce I bottled last fall. And since I have a bunch of buttermilk sitting around from making my own butter, I use some of that for soaking my flour at the beginning. I've also been using 4 Tbs dough enhancer which was left over from trying everything on earth. 

I realize this may be a pain to print, so if you'll send an email to stefanie at skaterace dot com, I'll send you a Word version.

Good luck!

On Losing, Adding, and Resolutions

So, how are your resolutions coming?  It's been a couple weeks since New Years - do you even remember them?  I recently read an article that said weight loss was the number one New Year's resolution.  I know that having just had a baby, that was my big resolution for 2012.  And guess what?  I did it!  Well, ok, I didn't quite make my original goal, which was to lose 40 pounds, but I lost 30, and I'm pretty happy with where I'm at.  I'm thinking that last ten pounds would require more sacrifice than I'm willing to make, and I don't think I realized when I made the goal what a huge difference 30 pounds would make.  So I'm good.

In looking back at the year, however, I have found that keeping that resolution to lose weight didn't quite bring the sense of fulfillment I had hoped it might.  I'm sharing this just because I haven't heard anyone else say it yet. There are so many people out there who really want to lose weight, and since I was one of them, I know exactly how they feel.  But let me tell you what it's like on this side of the fence.  It's not that much different.  Yes, I'm smaller.  My pants are several sizes smaller, and my limbs seem to have shrunk?  I don't know how losing weight makes your arms and legs shorter, but it sure seems that way.  So, I'm smaller and.....  and that's about it.  I haven't noticed all that extra energy I'm supposed to have. I'm not happier or richer or even necessarily more attractive.  I still have the same crazy hair that drives me nuts.  I still have those weird spots on my face that arrived during my sixth pregnancy and never left.  I still have stretch marks covering what feels like a full third of my body.  I still have all those old shortcomings and weaknesses, and it definitely didn't make be a better parent.  As a person I really didn't move forward when I left the weight behind. 

Yes, it is fun and exciting to see the numbers on the scale slide downward.  Yes, it's fun to try on a pair of jeans in a smaller size and find that they do fit.  Yes, it does feel good when someone notices and tells me how good I look, but the boost in self-confidence is fairly temporary - sort of like a new haircut.  Once the new size becomes the new normal, it's just the same old me again. (While it is true that a more drastic weight-loss experience may produce more drastic results, neither of my two readers are obese, so it doesn't apply, and my own experiences are the only ones I can really share, anyway.)

I'm not saying that you should abandon your weight-loss goals.  I don't think you should, and I don't think you would even if I told you to, but what I am saying is that while you're losing weight, you should also be adding to yourself.  In making your goals for the year, be sure to include something that will make you a better person.  Improve your talents, learn to do something new, become more Christlike, create something, give more service, do something you've always wanted to do - so that when your body is as skinny as you hoped it would be, there's also a better person inside of it.  Because who wants to be a mean, ornery, skinny person? And when you reach New Year's Eve 2013, you can feel good both inside and out.