A New Chapter

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you are familiar with Master Hand Grenade's story.  Although strong and able, he is not your average young man. 

Master Hand Grenade's hearing and motor functions were compromised shortly after birth.  His prognosis was dim.  After surviving his initial trauma, doctors were not at all encouraging about his future.  They declared him deaf, mentally and physically retarded and perhaps even blind.  They encouraged Sir Knight and I to apply for Medicaid to cover his health care expenses and Social Security Disability to help with the costs associated with raising a disabled child.  We didn't do either.  We figured that God had given us this child and would provide for his care.  And we never looked back.

As Hand Grenade grew, we didn't know what to expect.  Would he be as disabled as the doctors expected?  Or would he develop as a normal little boy?  We worried and we watched and we waited.  We knew that he did not hear as well as Maid Elizabeth, but was he deaf?  He didn't come close to hitting the "normal" milestones for a healthy infant, but did that just mean he would develop more slowly, or not at all?  We prayed and prayed and prayed some more.

Those first few years were a mixture of joy and sorrow, triumph and tribulation.  Early on, we decided that Master Hand Grenade was going to learn to function as a productive member of society.  It was going to be harder for him than for "normal" children, but he would just have to learn to overcome.  We taught him to communicate through sign language so that we could talk to him and he could talk to us.  When we figured out that he could hear (a little anyway), we taught him to always be close enough to the house to hear the dinner bell when we rang it.  We had him repeat our instructions back to us so that we could be certain that he understood what we expected of him.  We gave him chores and responsibility and expected him to complete his tasks, even if he had to develop an unconventional method to accomplish his duties.  We forced him (even when it was hard) to push past his comfort zone and do things that were hard for him just so that he knew he could.

Over the years Hand Grenade has grown from a challenged little boy into a competent young man.  He doesn't always do things in a conventional manner, but he always gets things done.  He doesn't hear very well, but he pays attention, repeats instructions and asks people to speak up.  He doesn't move like every other 18 year old man, but he is fast and steady and strong as an ox.  What he lacks in motor skills and hearing he more than makes up for in determination and ingenuity.  Although not like everyone else, Hand Grenade is a young man to be proud of.

And now a new chapter has begun for our son.  Having finished high school, Master Hand Grenade turned his mind toward his future.  Knowing that Hand Grenade wanted to become a butcher, our friend Patrice put in a good word for him with our regional mobile butcher.  After numerous phone conversations and visits to the butcher shop, Master Hand Grenade secured a job.  Beginning tomorrow, Hand Grenade will be training to be a butcher, doing everything from killing, gutting and skinning the animal to cutting and wrapping meat and curing bacon and hams and making sausage.  He will be learning to be a butcher from the ground up.  Master Hand Grenade is taking the first step into his future.

The one requirement for Hand Grenade's job - rubber boots

Along with a new job, Hand Grenade will be adjusting to a lengthy commute.  This young man, who had such a dismal prognosis as a baby, will now be driving himself 80 miles a day to and from work.  All these years we have been preparing Hand Grenade for this moment and now, all too soon, it is here.  Our home has been (and will continue to be) filled with praises and prayers!

Gathered around table to celebrate our son

This morning we gathered as a family in the living room to read the word of God, seek wisdom and pray for Hand Grenade as he embarks on his future.  As Hand Grenade knelt before his father, Sir Knight lay his hands on this young man and blessed him and prayed for him .  As with all of our children, we want Hand Grenade to walk with God, to seek Him and to serve Him.  For us, there "is no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth". 3 John 1:4

We gathered for a lovely afternoon tea to celebrate Hand Grenade's new chapter in life.  We indulged in (Quick)  Maple Nut Cinnamon Rolls and English Breakfast tea.  The recipe is quick and yummy - but you might want to cut the filling recipe in half - very sweet!

(Quick) Maple Nut Cinnamon Rolls

For the filling:
3/4 C brown sugar (packed)
1/4 C granulated sugar
3/4 C chopped pecans or walnuts
2 tsp. cinnamon
1/3 tsp. salt
1 T butter, melted

For the dough:
3 C flour
3 T sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 C buttermilk (or sweet milk with a splash of lemon juice or vinegar)
6 T butter, melted
1/3 C maple syrup

For the Icing:
2 T butter, softened
3 T maple syrup
2 tsp. milk
1 C confectioners sugar

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.  Brush a 9" inch round cake pan with melted butter.  Set aside.

For the filling:  Combine all of the dry ingredients in a bowl.  Add melted butter and stir until the mixture is moistened.

For the dough:  Combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt.  Stir.  Add the buttermilk, melted butter and maple syrup.  Stir well.  Transfer the dough to a floured surface and knead just until smooth.  Place in a lightly floured bowl, cover and chill for 20 minutes.

After chilled, roll into a 12x8 inch rectangle.  Spread with softened or melted butter.  Spread the filling evenly over the dough, leaving 1/2 inch border.  Press the filling into the dough.

Roll the dough, from the long side, pinch the seam close.  Cut into 8 even pieces and transfer into the prepared cake pan.  Brush with melted butter. Bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown.

For the icing:  Cream the butter and add the sugar.  Mix until the sugar and butter combine a bit.  Add the syrup and whisk well.  If it is too thick, add the milk until it is your desired consistency.

Allow the cinnamon rolls to cool in the pan for about 5 minutes and then pour icing over the top.  Serve while warm.

NOTE:  I doubled this recipe and put in a larger rectangle pan.  I also mixed up the icing and served it in a bowl so that people could choose to smooth icing or butter over their warm rolls.  In the future, I would cut the filling recipe in half, they would be plenty sweet.  Also, I added about 1 1/2 tsp. maple extract to the icing, just to amp up the flavor.

Man in Training

"The glory of young men is their strength; and the beauty of old men is the gray head."

Proverbs 20:29

Raising boys to be men in our modern world is a continual challenge.  It is quite an easy task to raise boys to be boys - simply leave them to their own devises.  Hand them a game controller and a pocket pizza and they will apply themselves rather diligently to the tutelage of the "Xbox" or "Playstation".  If, in fact, you want to raise your boy to become a man, you will have to exchange his game controller for a gray headed man, wise in years, given to instructing and employing said young man.

Years ago, Sir Knight and I committed to raising Master Hand Grenade to take his place among the men in our community.  We wanted him to know how to work, how to think and how to reason.  We wanted him to be more comfortable in a room full of men than he was with his "peer" group.  We wanted him to listen and learn from his elders, to "sit at their feet", so to speak.  We wanted Hand Grenade to value the wisdom that is wrought through the failures, successes and knowledge that can only be gained over a lifetime.

Since he was a little boy, Hand Grenade has worked side by side with his father.  He has cut wood, sawed logs, built fences and rebuilt generators.  He has changed oil, changed tires and changed propane bottles.  He has rewired lights, maintained our mechanical fleet and serviced deep cycle batteries.  He has prayed for our family, comforted his siblings and bandaged little wounds.  He has spent his young life being a "Man in Training".  He has lent the strength of his youth to the gray headed wisdom of his father and together, they have built an empire.

The time has come for another gray head to give counsel and guide the strength of our young man.  Master Hand Grenade will be leaving soon to take up residence with his grandparents.  He has secured a job with a local entrepreneur and will be spending his summer working....hard.  He will be doing everything from lawn maintenance to construction to operating big equipment. In his "spare" time, he will be helping my parents with whatever they may need.  My dad, his grandpa, will be the gray head to Master Hand Grenade's strength.  Together, they will slay dragons.  The two, working in concert, will be better than either could be by themselves.

Our young men need our old men.  Young men are strong, and rash and foolish.  Old men (however imperfect) have experience, wisdom and quiet determination.  Although they no longer have the strength they need to accomplish what they want, they have the knowledge.  Imagine what our men could do if they only combined their strengths!  If our young men would listen to the wisdom of their elders and our old men would take the time to teach the young they would be unstoppable!

Oh, to harness the strength of young men and recognize the beauty of old men!

Our Life in Pictures - The Business of Life

I'm so very sorry for the silence as of late - I have been extraordinarily busy with Naturally Cozy, homeschooling and spring cleaning.  It seems that I barely have time to breath!

Although the blog has been silent, we have been on the go.  Maid Elizabeth and I (along with Sir Knight and the older children on the weekends) have been hiking 3 miles every day. We have gotten faster and faster and plan to add some mileage as our stamina increases. Master Hand Grenade has been keeping the lawn (I use the term "lawn" very loosely) mowed and has been "spring cleaning" outside.  We planted two raised garden beds with raspberries and one with various herbs.  We are hoping to build a few more beds before it is time to plant, but we will have to see if that comes about.

Master Hand Grenade has been expanding his knowledge base as a Man-in-Training.  He and his grandfather built a Z-bar door for our chicken coop and have plans to build a similar door for the children's play house.  He also worked on a neighbors lawn mower and, with the help of his dad, got it running and serviced.  A project in his very near future is an out-house (complete with urinal!) for our back yard.

Anyway, I'm sorry to have been so lax on posts - please forgive me.  I will endeavor to persevere!

Sir Knight instructing Master Hand Grenade

Taking the lawn mower apart

Removing the air filter

Taking the top off the carburetor

Testing the newly repaired mower

Master Calvin helping with wood

New chicken coop door - hand built by Master
Hand Grenade and Grandfather

Newly planted raspberries

and herbs

A Vision for Men in Training

Helping our boys become men is more than a little challenging, especially in a world filled with competing interests.  Why get firewood in, take out the garbage and clean your room when there are video games to be played and apps to be downloaded to your iGadget?  Why should a young man bother with leading the family in prayer in the morning when he could be getting a few extra minutes of shut-eye?  Why think beyond your own selfish desires when you are only young once, after all - you will be a man when you grow up, right?

Wrong.  Unless we train our boys to be men when they are young, they will be nothing but boys when they are grown.  Unfortunately, we live in a society that no longer respects the position of men.  We undermine their authority.  We ridicule their masculinity.  We marginalize their existence.  We treat them like children who are incapable of managing themselves, much less lead a family or a nation.

Master Hand Grenade is a sixteen year old man.  He is not perfect.  He is a work in progress.  He still wavers between boy and man, but the balance has tipped in the mans favor.  He has begun to have a vision.

Biblically,  a man fulfills four offices when serving his family.  He is the priest of his home.  He is a prophet.  He is a provider.  He is a protector.  In our quest to help our boys become men, we have realized that not just a father is responsible to be a priest, prophet, provider and protector, but that our young men can and should step into those roles in the absence of or in conjunction with their father.

Sir Knight is gone during the day, working to provide for his family.  He leaves before the children are out of bed and doesn't return home until it's time for dinner.  Master Hand Grenade could choose to be a child and laze around all day expecting to be taken care of, however, he chooses to be a man and act in his fathers stead.  His father has given him a vision of what a man must be and Master Hand Grenade would be ashamed to be merely a boy.

Each morning, Hand Grenade leads our little band in prayer.  He takes prayer requests, prays over the concerns of the day and asks for the wisdom to discern the scriptures we are reading.  In doing so, he takes on the role of "priest" for this family.

Being a prophet is a bit more challenging.  Sir Knight is chief prophet in our home, however, Master Hand Grenade listens and learns.  He looks to the future, sees the signs of the times and helps his dad formulate plans to keep our family walking in the way of truth.  By adhering to the proverb "A prudent man sees danger and takes refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it" (Proverbs 22:3) he is fulling the office of "prophet".

Understanding the role of a provider is easy in theory but much more challenging to execute.  Sir Knight works every day and brings home a paycheck, therefore providing for the family, but how can Master Hand Grenade provide for our family?  He doesn't have a paying job.  He can only hunt during hunting season.  What is a young man to do?  He can do his chores (without being asked, doing them thoroughly and with a good attitude).  By sawing, splitting and bringing in firewood, Master Hand Grenade is providing heat for our family.  By taking out the garbage, he is providing a clean home in which we ladies can work.  By keeping the oil in the generator changed and the gas tank full, he provides us with power to keep the house running.  Sir Knight depends on Master Hand Grenade to provide for our physical necessities in his absence.  If that isn't fulfilling the office of "provider", I don't know what is!

Being a protector is something every little boys dreams of.  What boy doesn't daydream about vanquishing the enemy and restoring peace to his little kingdom - of being the hero?  Sir Knight has spent many an hour teaching Hand Grenade the complexities of keeping our family safe.  When Sir Knight drives off in the morning, he does so with the calm assurance that if need be, Hand Grenade would give his life defending me and his siblings.  Rather than wasting time killing bad guys on the latest video game, Master Hand Grenade has shouldered the responsibility of protecting real-live people, his people, in his fathers absence.  By protecting us, he is about his fathers business.

By the grace of God, Master Hand Grenade has never had to fulfill the role of protector - until last week, that is.  When the kids and I were in town, doing some last minute shopping before Christmas, an obviously drunk man approached my daughters, who were standing outside our truck.  Quick as a flash, I was out of the truck, racing to stand between my daughters and this potential threat, but before I could get there, Master Hand Grenade had stationed his body squarely in front of the drunkard.  Then, the most amazing thing happened.  Master Hand Grenade grew 6 inches.  No, really, he did!  My son is already 3 inches taller than I am, but in the space of about 4 seconds, he gained the status of a giant.  Suddenly the drunk man looked up, saw "Captain America" standing in front of him, and instantly became compliant and non-threatening.  Having been trained to be a man, Master Hand Grenade didn't hesitate to put himself between his girls and a very real threat.  Sir Knight's faith had been well placed.

Our country needs men.  Real men.  Our great desire is to raise such men.  Master Hand Grenade is well on his way.  Master Calvin is following in his footsteps.  They will fall, they will fail, but we will help them back up, dust them off and give them a vision for what could be - what should be.  They are men in training.

A Case for Men

I am a mom. I am my son's teacher.  I teach him responsibility, work ethic and compassion.  I teach him the value of a dollar, how to put others before himself and how to respect his elders.  But there is one thing I cannot teach my son.  I cannot teach him how to be a man.

We live in a world that has ceased to value men.  They are a throwaway commodity - a necessary evil.  Men are viewed as little more than overgrown children, seeking their own gratification, rather than the providers and protectors that God created them to be.

Over the past couple of weeks, as Sir Knight has battled illness, I have come to realize the true value of a man.  Men provide.  Men protect.  Men leave the home so that their wife can make the home.  Men do the hard, dirty, undesirable jobs so their wives' don't have to.  Men provide an infrastructure of support so that women can tend to the business of family.  Men do the jobs of men so that women can do the jobs of women.

Whooping Cough could have threatened the perfect balance of our family had my husband not been about the business of teaching our son to be a man.  The reality is that it is much easier to do things yourself rather than teaching your children.  Changing the oil in the generator is quick when you are working by yourself, but can be more than a little time consuming when you are teaching your son.  It takes twice the time to troubleshoot an electrical system when your son is working and learning by your side, as you show him how to read a schematic and splice wires.  But, when a crisis arises (and it will) your investment will be handsomely rewarded.

Working on the generator

The guys working together

With my entire family out of commission, I've felt as though the weight of the world has been on my shoulders.  There are meals to be made, a house to keep clean and school to be done.  Bread must be baked, sheets must be changed and sick children attended to.  And the air has begun to have a distinct chill.  Winter is on the way.  Typically, fall is my favorite time of year, but this year, the change of the weather has done nothing but increase my anxiety.  You see, generally we spend the sunny, crisp days of fall sawing and splitting firewood, but this year, my sawyer is bedridden and the length of his convalescence is undetermined.  And even when he is feeling better, his broken ribs will be painful long past the first snow.  I was beginning to panic - and then I remembered - Sir Knight has made it a habit of taking every opportunity to teach Master Hand Grenade the necessary skills of a man.

Learning to saw

Over the past couple of years, Sir Knight has been putting Master Hand Grenade behind the chainsaw.  He began small, teaching him how to start the saw and how to fill the oiler.  He taught him how the saw works and how to sharpen the chain.  He had him take the saw apart to disentangle a piece of baling twine that had gotten sucked in and taught him how to change bars.  Soon, Master Hand Grenade strapped on a pair of saw chaps and helped limb a tree and then took his turn on the log deck.  Little by little, log by log, Master Hand Grenade has become a skilled handler of the chainsaw.

As I watched Master Hand Grenade cut into the first log on the log deck, I realized that he had taken his place among the men.  No longer a little boy, he had become a provider.  He was providing our family with warmth - protecting us from the elements.  And he had become a man because my husband had taught him.  Sir Knight had mentored his son and in that mentoring he had produced a man - a man who will take up the mantle of masculinity and guide the next generation of men.  Sir Knight did what I am incapable of - he raised not just a son, but a man.

The weight of the world is no longer on my shoulders.  In His wisdom, God has provided me with not one man, but two.

Turning Boys into Men

The longer I am the mother of sons, the more convinced I am, that as a society, we are failing at turning our boys into men.  Our young men are entering the adult world more concerned with having the newest cell phone or gnarliest tattoo rather than bothering themselves with standing up for what they believe is right or providing for their family.  They are selfish, self-centered, unused to working and truly believe that the world revolves around them.  They are disrespectful, hate authority, and think the world owes them a living.  And as parents, we share in the burden of blame.

For years, I have pondered the state of our young men, and wondered at the remedy.  I have come to the conclusion that the answer doesn't lie in providing boys with more stuff, filling them with self-esteem or pandering to their over-inflated sense of self.  It lies in skipping adolescent angst and progressing systematically from boyhood to manhood.

When Master Hand Grenade was 12, I noticed a change in his countenance.  He gradually changed from a little boy, looking to his mother for guidance and affirmation to a young man, choosing to spend his time watching and learning the ways of men.  The way that he responded to me changed.  No longer did he appreciate me organizing and dictating every hour of his day.  He wanted autonomy.  He wanted to have input in the goings on of daily life.  As a mother, I rebelled.  Who was he to tell me how he wanted some things to be done?  He was the child - I was the mother!  And then I realized that my role as a mother was changing.  Yes, I was his mother, but I was also a woman, and in reality, men don't like to be ordered about by women, even their mother.

This new development put me in quite a quandary.  Now I needed to figure out how to balance being a mother, in charge of teaching school and mandating chores and being a woman, allowing my son to take his rightful place as a man, practicing to be the head of a household.

Truthfully, after years of thinking on these things, I still don't have the answers.  I do, however, have some theories.  I have come to the conclusion that young men, when they reach the age of 12, should be out from under their mothers roof.  Now before everyone starts yelling, let me explain.  By out of the house, I don't think that 12 year olds should move out and make their own way in the world - heaven forbid!  I do, however, think they need to be out of the house, working alongside of men, learning discipline, work ethic and responsibility from an older man.

In my perfect world, Master Hand Grenade would be home until noon each day.  He would finish his schooling, chores and whatever other home responsibilities he had and then he would spend the rest of the day, until dinner, working on becoming a man.  He would dig ditches, build houses, put up hay and chop wood.  He would learn to be on time, to work hard, to be tough.  He would learn to work when he wanted to be anywhere else and put in a full day when his muscles were aching and tired.  He would learn the value of physical labor and a dollar earned.  He would learn true self-respect, not the prolific lie of self-esteem.  He would skip being a "teenager" and go strait to manhood.  He would be a man worthy of marrying your daughter and being the father of your grandchildren.  He would be a man of God.

The reality of my perfect world is anything but perfect.  Our society doesn't value the same things that I value.  Our society worships youth, not the respectability of manhood.  We applaud the folly of a child rather than venerating the character of the truly humble, self-controlled man.  We are teaching our boys to be boys and wondering why they are not men.

The truth of the matter is that Master Hand Grenade is still under my roof, instead of learning beside his father or another Godly man.  Our government has deemed him too young to have a job.  The craftsman taking an apprentice is from a bygone era.  And so we pray.  We pray that we will have the wisdom to raise Master Hand Grenade and Master Calvin to have a great desire to be a men rather than boys.  I pray that I am able to balance being a mother and a woman encouraging her men to be leaders.

I believe we need to rethink the way we turn boys into men.  Our families, our country our very society depends on it.

The Great Men of History

It should have been a simple repair.  Generally, when our water pipes freeze, I just heat them up with the blow drier for a couple of minutes, and, wallah - running water.  But not this time.  The pipes just wouldn't thaw.  I wasn't too concerned.  It was just a minor inconvenience.  We did have cold running water at the bathtub, so I could keep things running fairly smoothly.  I was hoping for Sir Knight to get home, because he seems to have the magic touch with the hair dryer.  He always puts it in just the right spot and miraculously, water starts flowing almost immediately.  But not this time.

Sir Knight got home from a day slaying dragons, to a wife saying "before you get too comfortable...."  I told him that I had been unable to get the pipes thawed and that I had been at it off and on all day.  I also informed him that using the generator to run the hair dryer was not working because the dryer kept flipping the circuit breaker.  Maid Elizabeth and I had a system.  She would run out to the generator, make it back into the shouse just in time for me to yell "go flip the circuit breaker", run outside again and, well, you see were this is going!  It had been nothing short of frustrating.  By the time Sir Knight got home, I really didn't care if we had running water at the present, I just wanted to be done messing with the pipes.

Riding to my rescue, Sir Knight rolled up his sleeves, and humming a little tune (I think it might be his theme song) went to work on the pipes.  He cheated though, and used a torch (now why hadn't I thought of that?).  But still, the pipes wouldn't thaw.  What in the world? And then he saw it - the pipe was not only frozen, it had completely split at a seam!  Had any of my efforts, or the early efforts of Sir Knight worked, our entire bathroom would have been flooded.  And so, Sir Knight went to work.  Still humming his theme song, he dug through the tool box, found a little of this, a little of that and a hose clamp (don't ask) and fixed that broken pipe.

After his great success with the pipes, he was ready for a cup of tea.  But before he sat down to enjoy the evening, he decided to head out and start the generator so that we could charge batteries as we enjoyed our afternoon cuppa.  The generator started with one pull and Sir Knight came into our cozy shouse ready to put his feet up.  And then the breaker flipped.  Yes, you read that correctly.  After having tripped the breaker a gazillion times trying to run the hair dryer, it would no longer "hold".  There truly is no rest for the weary.  We really had to charge batteries, so it was back into the dark night for Sir Knight.  He had yet another dragon to slay.  With a flashlight held between his teeth, blowing on his hands from time to time to keep the frostbite at bay, Sir Knight re-wired the generator.

As Sir Knight lay on his back in the snow, in sub-zero temperatures (with a wind chill), holding a flashlight between his teeth, fixing the generator yet again, I started thinking about great men.  I don't mean wealthy men or successful men or powerful men, but GREAT men.  Men that persevere in the midst of crushing adversity, men that fail only to dust themselves off and start again, men that rise from the ashes like a Phoenix taking flight.  Men like my husband - the slayer of my dragons.

The great men of history have not been formed in the halls of academia or the nurseries of grand homes.  They have not been chiseled from the boardrooms of commerce or the venerable marbled columns of congress. They have been hewn out of adversity.  The stoic men that built our country held fast the British and overcame the British and Hessian armies through sheer grit, determination.  They met adversity as Great Men.

"To compound Washington's problems, the enlistments of the majority of the Militias under his command were due to expire at the end of the month and the troops return to their homes.  Washington had to do something, and quickly.


His decision was to attack the British.  The target was the Hessian-held town of Trenton just across the Delaware River.


During the night of December 25, Washington led his troops across the ice-swollen Delaware about 9 miles north of Trenton.  The weather was horrendous and the river treacherous.  Raging winds combined with snow, sleet and rain to produce almost impossible conditions.  To add to the difficulties, a significant number of Washington's force marched through the snow without shoes. 


The next morning, they attacked to the south, taking the Hessian garrison by surprise and over-running the town.  After fierce fighting, and the loss of their commander, the Hessian's surrendered.  


Washington's victory was complete, but his situation precarious.  The violent weather continued - making a strike toward Princeton problematic.  Washington and his commanding officers decided to retrace their steps across the Delaware River, taking their Hessian prisoners with them.  


The news of the American victory spread rapidly through the colonies reinvigorating the failing spirit of the revolution.  The battle's outcome also gave Washington and his officers the confidence to mount another campaign.  On December 30, they again crossed the Delaware, attacked and won another victory at Trenton on January 2, and then pushed on to Princeton defeating the British there on January 3.


Although not apparent at the time, these battles were a decisive turning point in the Revolution.  The victories pulled the languishing Revolution out of the depths of despair, galvanized colonial support, shocked the British and convinced potential allies, such as France, Holland and Spain, that the Continental Army was a force to be reckoned with."
                                            EyeWitness to History.com

The list of great men is long, but, I'm afraid, not current.  I do not see Great Men leading our country, standing in the gap between good and evil.  I do not see Great Men being hewn in the school of adversity.

Our country longs for a Great Man.  We long for a leader that will stand for truth and righteousness regardless of the personal cost.  If a Great Man were to lead us, we would follow.

Our family is lead by a Great Man.  That is a beginning.  If many Great Men were to rise in families, more Great Men would follow in their footsteps.  If we embraced adversity and allowed it to form our boys into Great Men, our country would experience a revival unparalleled.

And behind every Great Man, there is a woman, quietly, humbly, encouraging, serving, helping her man become a Great Man.

Venisoup of Deer

*Warning - graphic hunting photos.  If you are opposed to hunting, have little children close or just don't like blood - DO NOT READ THIS POST!!!

When I was a little girl and my dad went hunting, I always told my mom that I couldn't wait for "Venisoup of Deer".  I'm not entirely sure what I meant, since my mom really didn't make soup all that often, but there you go - that is what I called it.

During all of my growing up years, we rarely had meat that wasn't wild game.  We had a store bought turkey on Thanksgiving and a Ham on Easter, but other than that we ate either Elk or Venison.  One of my favorite dinners as a child were Venison steak.  They were small, but soooo good!  All through hunting season, my mom and I would wait with great anticipation for our men (my dad and brother) to return from a hunt.  They went hunting every morning and every evening until they filled their tags.  We were always so hopeful when the evening grew dark and they still hadn't arrived.  We hoped that they would be bringing home meat to hang in the shed to feed our family through the winter.

Sir Knight and Master Hand Grenade carry on the family tradition.  Once more, we girls wait at home, anxiously anticipating our mens' return from the hunt.  Last night, the men returned victorious.  Sir Knight bagged a buck.  Hand Grenade had more than a little to do with Sir Knights' victory, however, because it was his eagle eye that spied the buck in the first place.  Hand Grenade had to point the buck out to his dad twice before Sir Knight caught sight of him.

Master Hand Grenade

The men usually gut their game in the field, but bring them home to hang and skin.  Once the critter is home, taking care of them becomes a family affair.  Maid Elizabeth, Sir Knight and Hand Grenade carted the buck from the truck to the shed.  Sir Knight and I hefted the buck up while Hand Grenade and Maid Elizabeth pulled him into the hanging position.

Maid Elizabeth skinning while Sir Knight watches

After we got the buck hung, Sir Knight and Maid Elizabeth went to work skinning him.  They are very good and very quick.  They got the hide off and made sure none of the hair remained (it makes the meat taste bad).  Hand Grenade got in on the action as well.  It took about an hour, with many hands working, but the end result was great.  The buck dressed out well.  We left him hanging overnight so that we could can on the morrow.

Sir Knight and buck

It is wonderful to pass the traditions of one generation to the next.  I love seeing my children have the opportunity to enjoy the same experiences I had as a child.  Maybe they too, will love "Venisoup of Deer".

Men-In-Training

One of my greatest joys in life is watching my little boys take up the mantle of manhood.  The sweetness of little boys is balm to a mothers heart.  My little boys have brought crumpled wads of weeds to present to me as great gifts and it brings tears to my eyes.  My little boys love to give me kisses with gooey, chocolate covered lips and I welcome their adoration, knowing that some day they will choose to give their kisses to another.  But, what I love the most, is watching my sons embrace the character qualities of real men.  I love watching them take dominion over their environment.  I love watching them rush to protect their sisters if they perceive a threat.  I love watching them learn by their fathers side.

Yesterday, I was watching Sir Knight engaging Master Calvin in battle.  Master Calvin was watching every move his father made.  He copied his battle tactics exactly.  He held his sword, moved his feet and even made the same guttural sounds his dad did.  He was learning to be a man.  

Master Hand Grenade is also learning at his fathers side.  He is learning to work on engines, cut wood, clean and shoot rifles and help me in the kitchen.  He is learning to be "Job Foreman" when his dad is not home, and take responsibility to see that a job is done well.  He is learning to direct his siblings, but do it in a way that is just and merciful.  He is learning the way of a man.

Our sons are the future leaders of our families, our churches and our country.  I am so thankful that I have a husband who is teaching my sons to be men.  I look around at the alternative and it is unacceptable.  I do not want some school teacher, cub scout leader or movie star being the driving force in my sons' lives.  God gave them a father to show them the way.  No one is better suited, or has a better reason to see my sons become the men God intended them to be than their father.  He is uniquely suited for the task.  

My young men are Men-In-Training and their Master is their Father.  I am truly blessed beyond measure.

Hand Grenade and Farmer Boy

Master Hand Grenade's best friend is known as Farmer Boy.  Hand Grenade and Farmer Boy have grown up together, and tackled many of life adventures as a team.  Hand Grenade has physical challenges that require him to work twice as hard as his friends to keep up and Farmer Boy is always the buddy that waits for him or helps him over fences or hauls him up trees.  Hand Grenade is an all-out Marine, a jar-head, a true warrior.  Farmer Boy is quiet, reserved, a farmer to the very core of his being.  They are a great team.

And, they have a history.  When the boys were about 12, they were out chopping wood.  I'm not entirely sure if they were chopping wood, or having axe throwing contests, but it had something to do with wood and axes.  Our families had just shared a wonderful meal, and the boys had excused themselves to go do "guy stuff", when Farmer Boy purposefully strode into the house and requested his older brother Sasquatchs' assistance.  Sasquatch heeded his brothers call and went outside, only to return with Hand Grenade cradled in his arms.

Blood was dripping from Hand Grenade's combat boot and the leather was completely cut through.  After freeing Hand Grenade's foot from the boot, we learned that an axe had sliced into his big toe.  There was blood everywhere, and the boot was garbage, but Hand Grenade was laughing and saying something to the effect of "Pain is weakness leaving your body".  Turns out that Farmer Boy had mistaken Hand Grenade's foot for a piece of wood (or something like that).

Nothing is generally done for a broken toe, so we just cleaned it well, wrapped it up, and got on with life.  Hand Grenade never complained about his toe hurting, we never dealt with infection and we generally never gave the incident another thought (except to periodically tease Farmer Boy about his wood chopping abilities!).  We never gave it another thought, that is, until about 3 months ago, when Hand Grenade took the rare opportunity to walk through the house bare foot.  His foot was deformed!  His toe pulled up at the knuckle in an almost grotesque manner!  When I asked if it bothered him, he said, "Naw, doesn't bug me at all".  I said good, because if it did they would have to re-break the toe and set it correctly.

The newly fixed toe

And then, about a month ago, Hand Grenade started complaining that his toe was rubbing on the top of all of his shoes.  He was getting blisters and his toe needed to be dealt with.  We took him to the doctor, expecting an x-ray and a date to have his toe re-broken and set (Farmer Boy even offered to do the re-breaking so that we could save on medical expenses -such a nice boy!).  You can imagine our surprise when the x-rays came back with no sign of a broken toe.

Young Master Hand Grenade had not broken his toe.  He had severed the tendon.  The reason that the knuckle in his toe was pulling up was that the tendon was pulling it back toward his foot!  And to top that off, the tendon could not be repaired.  The injury was too old to properly fix his foot.

After much discussion, we decided to have the bones in his toe fused.  They would go in, drill a hole in the bones and put a screw through the end of his toe so that as he continued to grow, the bones in his toe would fuse together.  In doing that, the tendon would not be able to continue to pull back and cause problems with his shoes.

Convalescing in our room

On Monday, Master Hand Grenade had surgery.  He now has a screw and a pin in his big toe.  The pin should come out in six weeks, but the screw won't be taken out for years (if ever).  Farmer Boy was the first person here to see Hand Grenade after surgery.  He reminded Hand Grenade that "pain is weakness leaving your body".

This is the stuff of boyhood.  These boys are walking side by side on their way to manhood.  As a mom, I can think of none better than Farmer Boy to walk this walk with Hand Grenade.  We are blessed beyond measure.

Specialization is for insects

Years ago, I stumbled across a quote in a classical education book from which I was gleaning wisdom to enhance our homeschool.  It stuck with me like a burr.  The truth evidenced in its words was such a contrast to our current education system and culture, that I saw, with new eyes, the crumbling nature of our society.  It comprised the authors thoughts on what it meant to be human....


A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

-Robert A. Heinlein


When our children go to State schools they are tested to see what their propensities are and they are then directed toward studies and jobs encompassing those strengths.  If they are good at English, they are encouraged to be teachers or journalists, if they are academically weak, they are encouraged to go to trade school, if they are good in math they are encouraged in the sciences.  Or, perhaps, they are just encouraged to specialize in current societal voids.  In other words, their energies are directed to one specific area rather than to developing themselves as a whole person.

As we all know, there are people with God given gifts in the arts or languages or sciences.  Of course, we should encourage those gifts, but not at the cost of the whole person.  We should be encouraging our children to be true "renaissance men" and renaissance women".  We should be training them not only for academic excellence but also real life, nitty gritty living.  


Sir Knight and I make it a priority to see that our children are well-rounded.  They learn reading, writing and arithmetic along with canning, hunting, running a household, computer skills, land navigation, shooting, sewing and anything else we have the opportunity to teach them.  We listen to classical music, memorize poetry and read classic literature.  We gut and skin deer, butcher chickens and hogs and render tallow.  We provide first-aid and minister to the elderly.  In other words, we live life to the best of our ability and try to provide comfort and encouragement to those we meet.

Our country used to be populated with people who could do anything.  They did what needed to be done and they did it with skill and grace.  The west would never have been won had we waited for people people with a specific skill set.  It was won on the backs of well-rounded, can-do type people with vision and the ability to get things done.  That is what I want for my children.


We can not rely on the State or anyone else to raise up our children to greatness.  We must be active in their education.  God gave us the job of educating our children and nobody else has greater influence in their children's lives than parents.  What an awesome and wonderful responsibility with which we have been entrusted.  Here are the thoughts of another Patriot regarding our children and who they ought to be...


We are steadily asked about the age at which to teach young people to shoot. The answer to this obviously depends upon the particular individual; not only his physical maturity but his desire. Apart from these considerations, however, I think it important to understand that it is the duty of the father to teach the son to shoot. Before the young man leaves home, there are certain things he should know and certain skills he should acquire, apart from any state-sponsored activity. Certainly the youngster should be taught to swim, strongly and safely, at distance. And young people of either sex should be taught to drive a motor vehicle, and if at all possible, how to fly a light airplane. I believe a youngster should be taught the rudiments of hand-to-hand combat, unarmed, together with basic survival skills. The list is long, but it is a parent's duty to make sure that the child does not go forth into the world helpless in the face of its perils. Shooting, of course, is our business, and shooting should not be left up to the state.”


-The late Jeff  Cooper


We are complete beings created in the image of God, not animals created with a solitary purpose. Living a full life is for human beings, specialization is for insects.

For my Men in Kilts

This song made me think of my Warrior Men in Kilts.  I hope we never come to this on our own soil!  Lord - hold back judgement....







A little history on Sgt MacKenzie,

Joseph MacKenzie wrote the haunting lament after the death of his wife, Christine, and in memory of his great-grandfather, Charles Stuart MacKenzie, a sergeant in the Seaforth Highlanders, who along with hundreds of his brothers-in-arms from the Elgin-Rothes area in Moray, Scotland went to fight in the Great War. Sergeant MacKenzie was bayoneted to death at the age of 35, while defending one of his badly injured fellow soldiers in the hand-to-hand fighting of the trenches.

His great grandson said:

To the best of my knowledge, and taken from reports of the returning soldiers, one of his close friends fell, badly wounded. Charles stood his ground and fought until he was overcome and died from bayonet wounds. On that day, my great grandmother and my grandmother were sitting at the fire when the picture fell from the wall. My great grandmother looked, and said to my grandmother "Oh, my bonnie Charlie's dead". Sure enough a few days passed, and the local policeman brought the news - that Sgt. Charles Stuart MacKenzie had been killed in action. This same picture now hangs above my fireplace. A few years back my wife Christine died of cancer, and in my grief I looked at his picture to ask what gave him the strength to go on. It was then, in my mind, that I saw him lying on the field and wondered what his final thoughts were. The words and music just appeared into my head. I believe the men and woman like yourself who are prepared to stand their ground for their family - for their friends - and for their country; deserve to be remembered, respected and honoured. "Sgt. MacKenzie", is my very small tribute to them.

Men at Work

Land Cruisers eat brakes.  At least that is what my husband says.  Sir Knight has changed brakes on our trucks more times than he can count.  This time, both our Cruiser and Maid Elizabeth's needed brakes so Sir Knight decided that he would do one set of brakes while Master Hand Grenade assisted and Master Hand Grenade would do one set of brakes while Sir Knight assisted.  There is something about useful, handy men that I find incredibly attractive!

Getting the tire off....

Working together.....

All hands are needed......

Look Faver... I found it!

A teaching moment...

Turning wrenches....

Rattling the tire back on!

What a blessed woman I am, to have a husband that can do ANYTHING!  And all the more blessed that he is teaching my son the ways of a man.