I Just Came Here to Write…

Apparently a “new normal” to me is to wake up at 4:45 am. It’s definitely strange coming from a person who could easily sleep ten hours and still feel that it wasn’t enough. But…I’ll take it. I have always wanted to be a morning person. People who really get stuff done tend to be early risers, so if my weird perimenopausal hormones have decided that 4:45 am is now a thing, so be it.

Anyhow, I woke up at the crack of 4:45 this morning and decided I was going to write a blog post since I haven’t posted a thing since…well, whenever that was. I got my old Paleolithic era laptop and ~~crank started it~~ turned it on. It’s a Chromebook, so it asked for my Google password straight off the bat. Well, I had been through this before; a month ago to be exact. I couldn’t remember my password. At ALL. Surely there was a way to sign in for people who forget their passwords, make another password and then forgets THAT password immediately. And yes, I do write down my passwords but it is in an inconvenient place at 5 am, and I refuse to be inconvenienced before 10 am. I tried for fifteen minutes to see if I could “see” it somewhere, but no. You have to make ANOTHER password, which was the very last thing I wanted to do, but I was forced into it. I won’t tell you what it is, but it was created in anger and hormonal rage.

I am sure to forget it by tomorrow.

Here I sit, forty minutes later, inconvenienced, frustrated, and angry that I had to create another forgettable password and I can’t even remember the story I came here to write about.

So far, getting up early hasn’t lead to increased productivity. I will report back soon.

Recipe Novels Need to Die

Several years ago, I wrote about a very first world problem that has, sadly, only grown far, far worse.

Let’s see if any of this sounds familiar. It’s late afternoon and after a long day of spinning plates, juggling chainsaws and running your own personal mini-circus, you realize that you’d better figure out something to eat before you start gnawing on your own hands, faint with hunger.

Let’s say you want to make lentil soup, so you type “Lentil soup” into the search bar and up pops several beautiful soup pictures accompanied by hundreds of five star reviews. You click on the best looking one and here it comes.

First, there’s a catchy title like: “The Very Best Super Easy Amazingly Delicious Lentil Soup”. Great, that’s fine. That’s followed by a paragraph about how delicious and amazing and easy this soup is. One would assume the recipe would follow.

No. You’d think, but no.

The introductory paragraph is followed by a lengthy and personal story on the origins of said recipe or perhaps how the author feels about this particular lentil recipe. This is followed by more paragraphs on what exactly a lentil IS, where they are grown, when they were domesticated, lentil varieties, the full nutritional profile of a lentil, how lentils can be prepared, where to buy lentils, variations on the ingredients, variations on how to cook the soup, what an Instant Pot is, the best pot to prepare the soup in….you get the idea. Then you get a fully photographed series on each and every step of making the soup, and then…only THEN do you reach the actual recipe. Thank God for the “Jump to Recipe” button. Whoever invented that should be sainted.

This reminds me of the Alamo scene in Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure where Pee-Wee finally makes it to the Alamo to look for his beloved stolen bicycle. He was told that his bike is in the basement of the Alamo, so he buys a ticket for the tour. The effervescent and irrepressible tour guide, Tina, (played by Jan Hooks) goes into a description of the Alamo as a visibly impatient Pee-Wee attempts to contain his anxiety as they view different rooms. But the gem…the ABSOLUTE GEM of a line is when they make it to the kitchen where Tina begins to talk about corn. The line is “There are thousands and THOUSANDS of uses for corn, all of which I will tell you about right now!”

And here is where Pee-Wee Herman and I merge into one being. The absolute annoyance, irritation, and dare I say disgust at having to wait for what we came for is very real. Pee-Wee just wanted to see the freaking basement. He didn’t want to hear twenty thousand ways to prepare corn. I just want to see a recipe before I give up and decide to eat a stale bag of Cheerios that have somehow been around, opened, since Halloween. (It’s March.)

I honestly thought this trend would slowly fade away but it’s only gotten much worse, especially with the rise of AI use in blogging. Am I the only one who can sniff out an AI written/assisted blog? It’s like that robotic woman’s voice that was so popular on memes a few years back. It’s human-esque, but creepy and…insincere.

I want to start a trend. Let’s get back to online recipe simplicity. Post a nice picture or two, a few sentences, and get that recipe back to the top, where it belongs!

I hereby declare war on the recipe novels!

End note: Many, many thanks to the awesome soul who created the above image!

January Blog Challenge

Daily writing prompt

Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?

View all responses

For the month of January, WordPress does a blogging challenge called “Bloganuary”. That word congeals in my mouth like old gross milk. Some words just don’t flow and shouldn’t be combined, BUT I’ll play along since I’m so terribly rusty on my writing.

As a kid, I loved stuffed animals. Memorable ones included Jake the snake (a 12 foot long green snake that I curled up in a circle and sat in), a Pink Panther rocker chair thing, a Ganz Wrinkles bloodhound puppet (see pic…I am positive I had this exact one), a Teddy Ruxpin, and many more. But my all time favorite was my giraffe that I had since I was a baby.

Not exactly cute, not exactly ugly…I had one of these Wrinkles dogs by Ganz.

He was made of a nubbly yellow material and had tiny brown felt nostrils and a brown cotton mane and twisted cotton tail. His eyes were black plastic. His ossicones (horn-like protrusions) were made of brown felt. I will never forget the fateful day I took him to preschool for show and tell and the teacher took him and was demonstrating how giraffes drink water. When she did so, she shoved his neck down which causes his poor little stuffed giraffe legs to splay out at 90 degree angles. I was absolutely horrified and I swear that the legs never were the same since; the front two had creases that always made him sit wonky. I don’t think I ever took anything to show and tell again.

As far as what happened to my giraffe, when I was in my 20s, my childhood home caught on fire and partially burned. The giraffe was in a glass case where we kept some memorabilia and he was perfectly fine. I took him out and to the kitchen where I sat him on a counter. Due to my ADD and all of the hubbub going on in the house, I forgot to put him in my car. I never saw him again, so I am sure he got thrown away. I know a little stuffed giraffe meant nothing to anyone else, but he did mean something to me. Then again, life goes on, and what would I really do with him now other than keep him in a box so my kids can throw him away when I die?

Even so, I still miss him for reasons unknown.

Random Shower Thoughts

Several months ago, I bought a set of soaps at TJ Maxx. Two of the bars were pretty plain; goat’s milk and honey or something similar. The third bar was chock full of chia seeds. I thought it an odd choice, but stuck it in the shower anyway. I regretted that decision almost immediately.

In the past, I’d already banned dark colored soap bars. I found no pleasure in having a shower stall that ended up looking dirtier when I got out than when I’d gotten in, nor scrubbing off charcoal-laced smears and bits that always managed to make their way to every possible surface of our shower curtain and walls. I’d banned bars with coffee grounds and oatmeal bits. After all, I was just trying to lather up my skin, not remove it with tiny, insidious, knife-like particles of things I’d much rather consume for breakfast.

However, chia soap took the freaking cake.

If you are at all familiar with chia seeds, either by once owning a (Ch-ch-ch) Chia Pet or consuming them in your diet, you will know that when you add water to the tiny seeds, something weird and miraculous happens. They turn from a plain little dry seed into a gluey and strange concoction that sticks to any surface it touches. Knowing this, please tell me why the soap makers of the world would ever entertain the idea of adding chia into their bars?

Here’s what went down when I used the chia bar: First couple of uses, no issues. The seeds were well below the surface of the bar. Next use: I unleashed the Kraken of soap additives and found chia seeds EVERYWHERE. They were embedded in my wash rag, the curtain, the walls of the shower, the soap dish, the floor, etc. I need to also add that they look suspiciously like seed ticks which only made the situation more horrific.

Because I am a well-established member of Overthinkers Anonymous, I began to wonder…Will the seeds sprout? When I come back tomorrow, will I have a baby chia plant in my rag? Our shower drain? Even worse yet, WHAT IF a sticky, gluey chia became lodged in a crevice somewhere on my own person and I didn’t know it? I can see it now…

INT. LOCAL HOSPITAL – DAY

My husband waits nervously in an ER waiting room. It is storming outside and he is pensive and silent as he watches the rain coming down. Doctor enters and escorts him to an empty room.

DOCTOR (apologetically): I am so sorry. We did everything we could do for your wife, but it just wasn’t enough.

HUSBAND (weeping): My God! What was it? A stroke? Heart attack? Aneurysm?

DOCTOR (avoiding eye contact): I…I’m afraid it was…Well, we’ve never seen this before…(cough nervously). I’m afraid that she succumbed to septic shock due to a, er, chia seed that was somehow lodged in her urethra. Again, I’m so sorry. Please accept my condolences.

Here, soap opera organ music fades in and then we–

FADE OUT.

Needless to say, after that played through my mind, I chucked the chia bar in the trash. Never again!

In the future, I’ll be sure to be much more careful when I choose soap bars, and I’ll keep the ch-ch-ch-chia seeds confined to sprouting or smoothies, right where they belong, and far far away from my naughty bits.

Welcome to 2024!

It’s already the new year; can you believe it? It’s been fifteen years since my first post! I was so excited to be here, in the country with plenty of room to spare and a passel of baby chicks on the way. However, I was a little less excited about the cold house, but I’m happy to say that after fifteen years and thousands of dollars in renovations, insulation, and upgrades, our house is still cold in the winter. That’s okay! I am still loving living “out here”. I have discovered wool socks and invested in a woodstove.

When my WordPress account came up for renewal, I thought about just letting it go back to a free account and not worrying with it. I have never written as much as I’d like. But dang it, I LOVE to write! I enjoy making posts and hearing from readers. I like to share pictures and stories and document our stay on the farm.

Every New Year’s Day, I try to choose a special word to represent the year. Last year, I attempted “Extraordinary” and I defintely do NOT recommend that one…The year started off so weird and funky that I abandoned it by the first of February. For 2024, I have chosen “Consistency”. If I described myself, the word “consistent” would not make the first 100 adjectives I’d use. Maybe even the top 300. I have a very well-developed self-destruct button. After 40+ year of self-sabotaging, I’m over it. I’m ready to do something different.

Thank you so much for sticking around, readers! I truly appreciate y’all and always enjoy hearing from you.

One last thing: I started a YouTube channel in 2023 called My Little Country. I like to share tips, gardening videos, recipes, and lots more. This year, I am going to put out more videos as soon as I fix my phone storage issues. Free advice: Always go with more storage if you have the choice!

Here’s to 2024!!! Wishing you the very best.

My Little Country, back again

I’m embarrassed to say, it’s been almost three years since I have posted. I started this blog as a journal (of sorts) when we moved to the country thirteen years ago. Sometimes I think, man, I started this thing just 2 years after Ree Drummond started her own blog…what if I had gotten famous too, and had my face plastered on kitchenware/house decor/home appliances in every Wal-Mart from here to the moon? But the truth is, I enjoy my obscurity and also, posting 15+ pictures for each recipe I make was never my thing. Life under my little mossy rock is just fine with me.

So now that my kids are much older and we are looking at a close-in-our-future “empty nest”, what to do next? I’ve been reading up on the Japanese concept of “ikigai”. Translated, it means “a reason for being”, and it’s about finding joy in life through purpose. Discovering your purpose in life…makes you think, doesn’t it? It’s beyond a job title and beyond the words “wife” or “mom”. Obviously, it doesn’t mean abandoning those things or diminishing their importance in any way. Rather, it’s finding your very own personal reason for being. What do you have to bring to the world?

My husband is lucky. He’s one of those people who had his stuff figured out very early in life. He made his own business in his early 20s and still runs it to this day. He is a fixer of things and even his name means “healer”. I, on the other hand, have a hard time sticking to any one thing for more than a week. He has the gift of remembering what people say word-for-word, even years later. I can only loosely paraphrase past conversations, at best. He can take something apart and remember exactly where every tiny piece and screw will go. I have to take copious photos during disassembly and it’s highly likely I’ll end up with a handful of screws and something that will never work again. So in that way, he is blessed. His brain is like an efficient filing cabinet. Every file is labeled and typed perfectly. Every memory is neatly tucked away in its own appropriate folder. My brain is reminiscent of a large bazaar/flea market with every vendor waving their arms and yelling for attention. Things I want to memorize are hastily written on scraps of paper (and promptly smudged), then thrown to the winds, likely never to be seen again. So this only brings me to the point that I will never be a star in the profession he chose, or maybe I should say, the profession that chose him.

I did a few exercises I found online to try and clarify my life’s purpose. What do I really love doing, after all?

I love creating. Whether that is sewing, cooking, writing, gardening, drawing, etc. I just love to make stuff!

I love to be helpful. It makes me happy knowing that I was able to help someone with a problem or teach them something new that is useful to them.

I love to learn. I see life as one big science experiment. There is a saying, “There are no failures, just discoveries.” This is why I enjoy trying new things constantly. What works? What doesn’t? I look forward to learning something new every day.

Now where does that leave me? For the present, I have no idea, and that’s okay! At least now I can focus on activities that involve these 3 passions of mine. So here I sit, creating! I found this article that I thought was pretty good on finding your ikigai:

https://positivepsychology.com/ikigai-worksheets-templates/

You see? There’s the helper in me.

Now I will leave you with a photo from the farm. I don’t know the name of this iris, but I’m betting she is an old variety. This year, she put on her best blooms, so the “SNOVID 2021” of Texas didn’t hurt her!

I hope you will hang around for more posts. I look forward to sharing 3 years’ worth of farm pics and experiments with you!

Year nine on the farm: Older, fatter, and furrier

October 2017 marks two milestones for our family; we have now been on the farm for nine years, and I turned forty.

Turning 4-Oh

Something about turning forty has changed me. With any luck, I hope to live another forty years. It would be a gift of another lifetime! With that, it got my little pea brain churning, thinking about:

The importance of living every day to the fullest
Celebrating every birthday, and that sending birthday cards to family/friends is no longer optional
Planning for a life we’d like to live after the kids have moved out
Becoming debt-free so we can work minimally and live to the max
Maintaining our health so we can enjoy life to the fullest

I also think about how I have already lived four years longer than my own grandfather did, and how every day is truly a blessing.

On a funnier note, I am trying to understand why, at forty:

My body has begun to cling to every single calorie like a person dangling from the side of a cliff
God decided that visible nose hairs are not optional just because you are a woman while simultaneously they become more prevalent/darker…yet at the same time, I am losing the hair on the top of my head
Any new hair I DO happen to grow on my head is either white and silky or a thick and extremely unruly black menace that sticks straight out
I can throw out my back by simply standing up and moving my leg half-inch in the ‘wrong’ direction

These are the things I ponder now.

Year Nine on the Farm

With this year, we are still working on paying off our debt, maintaining the home and grounds, and now we are downsizing.

While I did keep some baby chicks hatched this year, the new goal is to continue to downsize the flock until we have a nice number of laying hens. Let’s face it: I do NOT get $100 worth of eggs a month that I’m paying for the feed at this point! We do have some older layers as well as several hens who are more like pets, but as usual, we also possess a disproportionately large number of roosters who are getting fat on my dollar.

Now for a review in photos!

October 2016:

That time that everyone got ticked off after playing Sorry:

November 2016:

The cold and wet beginning to our square foot beds:

Our living room/library area after bringing in the ferns for the winter:

Fall foliage:

December 2016:

A beautiful winter sunset!

From 65 degrees to 48 in 47 minutes!

January 2017:

One day, as I was hanging laundry, I looked up to see this ‘mackerel sky’. I made myself pretty dizzy trying to take a good pic.

This year marked the beginning of new beds and a new gardening method: Square Foot Gardening. I love it!!! Jason built the beds. The soil you see was just, well…crappy, but it’s all I had. Now it has much better soil.

2017 was the Year of the Annoying Ladybug/Asian Ladybeetle invasion. Here is a group in our barn, but there were hundreds in the house. Yuck. Glad they do eat aphids, but it would be lovely if they would hibernate outdoors like REAL ladybugs!!!

February:

Being sensitive to sodium nitrate (Read: gives me major migraines), I can only eat uncured meats. Let’s face it, when you live in the sticks, things can be difficult to find. Our local Wal-Mart decided to stop carrying ‘my’ bacon, so I was forced to drive thirty miles to find some. Jason came to the rescue with my Valentine’s gift!

Ladybug invasion continues in the warm sun:

A true ladybug! I found several Twice-Stabbed ladybeetles on our pear trees. Yaaaay!

March:

Another ‘true’ ladybug, the Convergent Ladybeetle. I probably learned more about ladybugs this year than in my last 40 years!

April:

April showers and all of that!

May:

May’s warmth brings out the reptiles! Anoles and rat snakes are in full force!

June:

A cicada emerges!

Swedish strawberry cake:

A new friend emerges from the woods! My first photos of Eleanor, the wild cat.

July:

Happy Fourth!!!

We add another new family member. Meet Esther. Note: Esther is the one without the beard.

August:

Esther enjoys robes and hiding in the mini pantry. This behavior was not endorsed by yours truly. No one likes cat hair in their cereal.

September:

Another new family member! Meet Milo:

2017, so far, has proved to be the Year of the Cat! I also have declared it the year of Returning to the Homestead since I have now deactivated my Facebook account and suddenly have hours and hours added to my day! Amazing, isn’t it? Hope you enjoyed this year’s re-cap.

On to 2018!!!

What if?

Warning: Soap box post ahead. In no way is this post intended to incite a riot among my readers; it is simply a post which will attempt to get you to think outside of the dreaded box.

When I was in fourth grade, I had a friend who would play the “What if” game. It would begin with me saying something very bland, such as: “I’m going to the lake this weekend.” He would then start in with the “what ifs”, such as:

What if it rains?

What if the lake is all dried up?

What if you run out of sunscreen and get so sunburned you have to go to the ER?

What if there is a rare freshwater shark that no one knows about and you get attacked?

What if meteor falls in the lake while you’re swimming?

The What If game almost always ended in my demise or dismemberment and I would roll my eyes as far as I could and holler out a disgusted “AAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH! SERIOUSLY!!!”

But today, let’s play the What If game with happier consequences.

What if you stopped caring what others thought of you? Perhaps, more truthfully, what if you stopping caring about what you think others are thinking about you?
What if you stepped outside of the box of social norms? The house, the cars, compulsory schooling, college right out of high school, “socially acceptable” job, etc.
What if you stopped comparing yourself to others?
What if you were happy with the way you looked?
What if you quit that job you hated and followed your passion?
What if you were totally debt free?
What if I told you that grades in school don’t matter in the long run?
What if I told you that you can be perfectly happy and successful without a college degree?
What if, every morning, you chose joy?
What if you were less selfish?
What if you forgave instead of harboring anger?
What if you truly lived by the Golden Rule? (Do to others as you would have them do to you)

Do some of these questions make you squeamish? Angry? Sad? Uncomfortable?

Again, my intent is to not anger, but to get you to think outside of the box. I wouldn’t ask any question of you that I have not asked of myself. I still struggle with some of the answers.

As much as I do not wish to be anywhere near what is considered “normal”, I also do not want to alienate my associates and my friends, so therefore I must temper my thoughts and my conversations with the knowledge that there will always be those who do not agree with me. And you know what? That’s perfectly fine. I don’t know anyone who agrees upon every single issue with another person. I don’t even think that’s humanly possible. But it doesn’t mean that you are wrong or your friend is wrong because your thoughts are different. I have been seeing far too many hateful posts and comments on social media lately. It saddens me.

Several years ago, I read “The Last American” by Elizabeth Gilbert. There was a single passage that stuck with me about circles and boxes. So, here is the truth bomb for you: Life is a circle, not a box. So why are we so adamant about forcing the round peg into the square hole?

Passage from “The Last American”:

Eustace Conway left home at 17 to live on his own in the wilderness. Here he discusses two different worlds while speaking to elementary school children :

“‘I live, in nature, where everything is connected, circular. The seasons are circular. The planet is circular, and so is its passage around the sun. The course of water over the earth is circular coming down from the sky and circulating through the world to spread life and then evaporating up again. I live in a circular teepee and I build my fire in a circle, and when my loved ones visit me, we sit in a circle and talk. The life cycles of plants and animals are circular. I live outside where I can see this. The ancient people understood that our world is a circle, but we modern people have lost sight of that. I don’t live inside buildings, because buildings are dead places where life stops. I don’t want to live in a dead place. People say that I don’t live in the real world, but it’s modern Americans who live in a fake world, because they’ve stepped outside the natural circle of life.

‘I saw the circle of life most clearly when I was riding my horse across America and I came across the body of a coyote that had recently died. The animal was mummified from the desert heat, but all around it, in a lush circle, was a small band of fresh green grass. The earth was borrowing nutrients from the animal and regenerating itself. This wasn’t about death, I realized; this was about eternal life. I took the teeth from that coyote and made myself this necklace right here, which always circles my neck, so I’d never forget that lesson.

‘Do people live in circles today? No. They live in boxes. They wake up every morning in the box of their bedroom because a box next to them started making beeping noises to tell them it was time to get up. They eat their breakfast out of a box and then they throw that box away into another box. Then they leave the box where they live and get into a box with wheels and drive to work, which is just another big box broken up into lots of little cubicle boxes where a bunch of people spend their days sitting and staring at the computer boxes in front of them. When the day is over, everyone gets into the box with wheels again and goes home to their house box and spends the evening staring at the television boxes for entertainment. They get their music from a box, they get their food from a box, they keep their clothing in a box, they live their lives in a box. Does that sound like anybody you know?’”

Now, friends, I will ask you again, “What if?”

“This Wheel’s On Fire…

rollin’ down the roooooaaad! Best notify my next of kin, this wheel shall exploooode!”

(apologies if you never watched Ab Fab…you’re scratching your head right now) And in case you’ve forgotten the song:

And that, friends, pretty much sums up our latest family vacation.

Yes, my dears, we have survived yet another vacation. Perhaps this is why we waited two years this time? While I will work on links to former vacations to share with you at the end, let’s review this year’s 2017 voyage, shall we?

Let’s begin with the “pre-flight” checklist! As a person who has never, and I repeat never has an uneventful vacation, you would assume that I would be prepared for anything. Typically, I am! If you have ever gone on a trip with me, you will know that I try to keep my emergency arsenal fully stocked.

Scene: A vacation, somewhere in the U.S.:

Friend: Do you have an umbrella? I didn’t think about rain.

Me: Yes, I brought four.

Friend: My button came off! Do you have a sewing kit?

Me: Yes, it’s in my bag.

Friend: I think I’m having a serious reaction to this bug bite!

Me: I have bentonite clay, Benadryl, hydrocortisone cream, lavender essential oil, or an Epi-Pen. Which would you like?

Friend: Oh my gosh, my car won’t start! What am I going to do?

Me: I have a disposable Honda in my purse.

So you see, I am usually pretty well prepared for what comes our way. And as the resident weather nut, you would also assume that I would have packed everything for inclement weather on this trip. I checked the forecast on Saturday and Sunday, and it showed that, by some miracle of God, it would be sunny skies and in the 70s. As I was packing the motorhome, I literally put my hand on my scanner/weather radio and thought, “I should bring this.” But I didn’t bring it, because, it was supposed to be sunny! Warm! Perfect weather! And I also walked right past my mud boots…twice. No, I won’t need those if it’s sunny! No, siree, no boots for me!

Monday: The trip to Arkansas was uneventful, other than a wrong turn in Washington (Arkansas…not the state or D.C., although you can’t rule that out with us). The weather was perfect! We set up camp and ate a hot dog feast, topped off with S’mores. Yay!

Then I decided to check the forecast again.

What was this? Severe weather in two days? Well, of course it was. We can’t go anywhere without a tornado warning. And my scanner and mud boots sat at home in Maydellish, mocking me, saying, “We tooooolllld you so! We knew it! HAHAHAHAHAHA!” I may or may not have said something ugly at that moment.

That night, Jason and Zoe had colds and coughed, sneezed, and hacked their way through the evening. Fortunately, they had mostly resolved by:

Tuesday: Rather uneventful day; no diamonds were found and we were able to walk the nature trail a time or two. Legs were killing me…I am no spring chicken anymore.

Wednesday: We woke up to this:

And so we did this:

I colored a lot and did some bible study. I kept thinking about Psalm 46:10, which begins with “Be still, and know that I am God…”. I am so often NOT still. So with the combination of the torrential downpour, deadly lightning, and being stuck in a 8′ x 34′ box, I was still! All day! And got to reflect on the Bible, which was nice. The rain finally let up about six o’clock in the evening, with no severe weather (WOOHOO), and we were able to walk around the park before it got too dark.

Thursday (departure day):

We went back to the diamond mine for a last look, and I’m sorry to say that I didn’t bring home anything that was worth more than ten cents. But the searching was still fun and I got some nice garden rocks.

We broke camp at 4pm, and headed back into Murfreesboro. As we stopped at the gas station, a horrible burning smell filled the entire motorhome. Jason quickly determined it was a stuck brake caliper, which could result in many outcomes: An exploding tire, failed bearings, or (the best one) a fire. Fires and motorhomes don’t go very well together, in case you were wondering. We managed to make it to a local auto store just before they closed. The man was kind enough to lend us a couple of “c-clamps” and told us to just mail them back. Can you believe it? I called the park to make sure there were vacancies available and sure enough, there were several. Like a scene from Groundhog Day, we went back the the park and plugged in while Jason started working on the RV.

If you have never been to Murfreesboro, let me explain that it is a precious little town, but very little to it. And very little around it. For many miles. And if you are looking for a rental car, well buddy, you are straight up outta luck. Weighing the options, it would be best if Jason could fix the brakes enough to get us home. And so:

I got to be the faithful mechanic ‘nurse’; holding the light, fetching tools, pumping the brakes and turning the steering wheel. After about two hours of sweating, greasy stains, and possibly a curse word or ten, he had resolved the issue enough for us to limp home! Hurray!!!

By this time, it’s a little after seven and starting to grow darker. I put on some truckin’ tunes (Jerry Reed, Dan Seals, a song about Bertha the Truck Drivin’ Queen, etc.) and we rolled along. As we passed under the final overpass into Texas, I lost it. Through tears, I broke out into “Texas, Our Texas” with my hand over my heart, and somewhere in the distance an eagle cried in unison. No one was prouder at that moment to be a native Texan and back on her native soil.

Truly, this is the loveliest sight:

There is such a stark difference between Arkansas and Texas. From the moment you cross into Texas, there are stores! There are restaurants! And, praise the dear sweet Lord, there is a Chick-Fil-A! A chicken sandwich with pickles, waffle fries, and lemonade never looked so good! I may have blubbered just a tad as I placed my order.

Everything was going so well…and then we got hit with the “Texarkana curse”, which is what happens almost every time we try to leave Texarkana. We missed a turn. We were so elated at having found the road to 59 south (HOME!!!) that we didn’t pay attention and missed what is essentially a tiny side street exit. Ten minutes later, Jason screamed, “Welcome to Arkansas?!?!!!!”

Oh, Arkansas, with your confusing roads! You have stumped us yet again!

I had failed at my navigator role! I had to lead us, with a limping vehicle, mind you, through the back streets of Texarkana late at night. Through the old industrial districts, with their liquor stores and their barred windows of all places! Would Texarkana never end? At a critical turn, the brand new Keurig decided to jump off of the counter and hit the floor with the most God-awful crash you have ever heard in your life. You could smell the stress! Finally, I got us BACK to 369 and to 59 south. We got home a little before 2am and I have that home never looked so beautiful…ever.

And that, friends, is how the 2017 family vacay went down. As Jason said, “Anyone could just take a “regular” vacation.” And I agree. We will make this thing happen despite tornadoes, flaming tires, or illnesses! Hear! Hear!

The Farmhouse Reading Room

Since I’ve taken an official break from Facebook, I have actually had time to read! Oh, how I missed my books!

While I have several on my shelves that I need to read, I always order a big bunch through Thriftbooks.com when winter comes rolling in. Yes, I know going to the library is more frugal, but I’ll be honest, I always run up a fine. I never, ever return them on time and I feel like a book-hoarding criminal. Also, I can’t stand going “into town”. I love to be at home. At Thriftbooks, I can usually get the books I want for about $3 or less and free shipping, plus, there are always coupons I earn that save more money. So with that being said, I’ll share some of my most recent reads with you.

To begin:

One of my favorite new books is Living More With Less, by Doris Janzen Longacre. The truth is, I haven’t completed this book because I don’t want to say I’m finished with it, as nutty as that sounds! Truthfully, I only have a few pages to go.

This book will broaden your worldview mindset as you hear stories from missionaries who have traveled the globe. I often forget how fortunate we are to live in the United States, and LMWL will certainly remind you. As an example, we can turn on a tap and get clean water, whereas others must walk miles to find a reliable source. These are not just stories from missionaries, however. It is also packed with money-saving ideas from those living here in the States. While it was written by Mennonites, I assure you that everyone can benefit from some of these suggestions. It has reminded me to be a conscious consumer; what I purchase or consume today really does have an effect on people half a world away!

Also, Mrs. Longacre was already known for her other book, the More-With-Less Cookbook. I bought this as well and while most don’t fit our current diet (low-carb), I can see that there are some nice recipes and ideas there that would greatly benefit those trying to cut down on food expenditures.

Yet another new favorite, Your Money Or Your Life by Vicki Robin and Joe Dominguez, was one I finished just a couple of days ago. For crying out loud, if you are struggling with money, want to stay home with your kids, hate your job, or maybe you “have it all” but you still feel empty inside, read this book! Actually, it’s a great book for anyone and I wish I’d read it much sooner. There are nine steps to Financial Independence, or “FI” as they call it. Just nine steps to never worrying about money again.

If you feel like a hamster on a wheel waiting for retirement, READ IT. I really can’t brag about it enough. I have to recommend buying it because I know that I’ll be using it as a reference for years to come, and I bet you will, too!

Another winner I read was Square Foot Gardening by Mel Bartholomew. If you don’t garden because you hate weeding or maybe your plants didn’t turn out well, this is the book for YOU! While most garden plots are traditionally done in rows, the Square Foot method uses 4′ x 4′ squares, which are further subdivided into sixteen 1′ squares. It is so easy to merge intensive gardening, succession planting, and companion gardening by using Mel’s ideas. I have already dug up ten squares, and each person is allotted two of their very own. Jason, being the left-brained member of our family, wants them to have sides, so he will be making us some metal boxes in a couple of weeks.

Mel tells us that in a four person family, eight 4′ squares are all you need. Granted, this would not be enough if you planned on canning or preserving foods, so we will have a few extras. I am also going to plant a few squares just for chicken food! Why not?

I bought the original 1981 book, which uses a compost-based top soil in addition to your own soil underneath. I have read that the newer book suggests using a fully enclosed box filled with a soil mix. I did this last year before ever hearing of Square Foot Gardening, and for the most part, it did work well. Still, for deep-rooted plants like tomatoes, I wouldn’t think that a box would give adequate depth for water retention, especially during those famous Texas summers!

Now for the bomb of the bunch:

The Womp-Womp-Wooooomp Book of the Month. I hate to give it such a bad rating, because I WANTED to love this book. I loved the idea of doing without technology! I loved the idea of living amongst a community of people who did things the old-fashioned way! The reviews were largely positive ones!

Unfortunately, I could have bought three loaves of sandwich bread for the $3 I spent on this paperweight, so I’m bummed over it.

Due to a random meeting on a bus with a community member, Mr. Brende and his new wife, the SHIMMERY-Oh-So-Shimmery and elfin-like Mary (who describes their wife as “shimmery”, anyway?), are able to move into a mish-mash group of ex-Amish, Mennonite, and other Luddite-like folks who have shunned most of technology. Eric nicknames them the Minimites. They live in a home built by said community member for when his son marries. I suppose what particularly annoys me about the story is the lack of writing skills. Brende fails to keep a story line straight and I feel as though his words are zig-zagging all over the place. Heck, I even went back to check a quote just now and realized that he had been hit by a car. I completely missed this!

Add to that frustration the fact that Mr. Brende comes off as an annoying and often pretentious wet-behind-the-ears college grad, and it just didn’t keep up my interest. I also don’t care for his comments about the people around him, as they usually come off as condescending and rude. The neighbor boy is “chubby”; the other neighbors “don’t like to be told what’s good for them”. Well, perhaps they don’t like your attitude! I suppose that the part that shocked me the most was after the birth of their first son. They went to K-Mart to get baby supplies. The total added up to a bit over $127, including a car seat, mattress, and baby blankets. They are, strangely, surprised by the amount, thinking it very expensive. Eric says, “Mary looked at me. I looked at Mary. Didn’t she know that baby items were the mother’s responsibility? “Can’t you use your credit card?” I asked.”

Ouch. I was so done. As it ends up, they leave the community and make their home in another Midwestern town, where he has a rickshaw business. He apparently doesn’t care for the German inhabitants of the town, which he makes quite clear. Pretty dumb to publish a book and let your neighbors know you don’t like them, right?

I hope that you will check out the first three books, though! They would be perfect for a rainy and cold day by the fireplace.

If you’d like to check out Thriftbooks, I have a coupon for 15% off for you! It is only good for two weeks after you sign up for it, though! It will also send ME a coupon for 20% off and you’ll be my new friend! 😉 Free shipping starts when you place an order for $10.