Bread in an hour

My family loves this bread, and because I never have the foresight to plan our meals very far in advance, it is great that you can make it so quickly, and from food storage items.  I adapted the recipe slightly from a book that my dear friend, Leslie Probert wrote, Emergency Food in a Nutshell. The lemon juice in the recipe acts as a dough enhancer which gives the bread a fine, light texture.

Whole Wheat Bread (in an hour, from your food storage supplies)

Makes 2 (8x4 inch) loaves

3 c. whole wheat flour

1/3 c. gluten flour, sifted (or vital wheat gluten)

1 1/4 T. instant yeast (or quick-rising)

2 1/2 c. very warm tap water

1 T. salt

1/3 c. oil

1/3 c. honey or 1/2 c. sugar

1 1/4 T. bottled lemon juice

2 - 2 1/2 c. whole wheat flour

Mix together first three ingredients in mixer with a dough hook.  Add water all at once and mix for 1 minute; cover and let rest for 10 minutes.  Add salt, oil, honey or sugar and lemon juice and beat for 1 minute.  Add last flour, 1 cup at a time, beating between each cup.  Beat for about 6-10 minutes until dough pulls away from sides of the bowl.  This makes a very soft dough.

Preheat oven for 1 minute to lukewarm and turn off.  Turn dough onto oiled counter top; divide, shape into loaves, place in oiled bread pans.  Let rise in warm oven for 10-15 minutes until dough reaches top of pan.  Do not remove bread from oven; turn oven to 350 degrees F and bake for 30 minutes.  Remove from pans and cool on racks.

Little Jerry Seinfeld and Matilda

We have chickens! Kevin came home from work the other day with this hair-brained idea that we needed some chickens, yes, chickens. Thinking that this might pacify my husband and children's need for some sort of animal, and cause the least amount of work for me, I reluctantly agreed. The majority of Saturday was spent in purchasing the supplies and the kids and Kevin building our slightly WT chicken coop. So, now only $100 into the chickens and supplies and still not one egg to show for it. Hmmm . . . if these babies don't start producing soon, does anyone want to come for a chicken dinner this weekend???

(Thanks to the Black family for the great idea!)

Stainless Steel Boycott

If you have children under the age of 70, are planning on ever having children, or have anyone else's children living within 100 miles of you, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT buy a stainless steel refrigerator (or dishwasher for that matter). I pride myself on being somewhat of a clean freak, and seriously, no amount of cleaning my stinkin' fridge will keep it clean for longer than 8.2 seconds. (I cannot emphasize the word "stinkin'" any more.)

I love the look of it, but despise the fact that we spent a fortune on it and I worry about it getting scratched by Ian using the front of it as the Indianapolis Speedway for his matchbox cars. Luckily, we were able to sell it last week and get a regular, run of the mill, garden variety fridge. (Kevin is getting it installed while I am in MT). Maybe I'll save up for one of those "satina" or "clean steel" fridges. Or, maybe I'll just count my blessings that I even have modern refrigeration in the first place.

For now, I am anxious to get back to Utah and my new, not-so-shiny fridge that I only have to wipe down once a week instead of once an hour.

Country Musings from Montana

I admit it. I love the smell of old farm trucks. I used to get in cow-pie fights with my cousins (how classy! you say). There is something so appealing about no "real" schedule. I'm a little bit country. I cannot really say that I know a smidge about farming, even though it's my father's profession. But, I do love pretending I know.

We just took the kids to pet an estranged-from-his-mama baby calf, which Ian lovingly named Suzie. (I got cow snot all over my hand, nice.)

I am taking lots of walks (which I love to do here because all the roads are sectioned in perfect 1 mile increments, making it perfect for my slightly obsessive personality to calculate exactly how far I've walked.)

Hmmmm . . . country life is nice, every once in a while.

Why I married a bald man

Here you go, all you women who brag about being able to run your hands through your husbands wavy locks. Can your husband do this???