Of Hearth and Home

I LOVE my job as a homemaker.  I view it as my commission, my calling, my sacred duty.  I see my home-centered influence shaping generations and in turn, shaping the very history of mankind.

Over the years I have collected a number books in keeping with my mission, books like "American Woman's Home" by Catherine Beecher and Harriet Beecher Stowe (copywrite 1869) and "Home and Health" which was "prepared and edited by a competent committee of home-makers and physicians" in 1907.  These books are filled with wisdom, encouraging women to excel in the business of keeping their homes, loving their husbands and raising their children.  They view the world through the lens of the family and an understanding that the family directs the nation, which in turn, directs the history of the world.

Thumbing through Home and Health, I came across Don't for Parents.  Although considered old-fashioned and outdated by today's standards, think of how our society, our nation, would look if we but adhered to these few simple rules.....

Don't for Parents

1. Don't train your baby to cry for everything in sight, or he will soon learn the value of tears.
2. Don't neglect early training in orderly habits.
3. Don't allow demonstrations of temper.  Screaming, kicking, and striking need never be struggled with if "nipped in the bud".
4. Don't allow "whining" or "teasing".
5. Don't fail to express sympathy when the child is in trouble.  Sympathy is soothing.
6. Don't tolerate talebearing.  It breeds selfishness.
7. Don't criticize and punish first, and investigate later.  Injustice inflicts a deep wound.
8. Don't offer bribes.  Teach obedience from principle.
9. Don't push the little ones from you for fear of their soiling a pretty gown.  Sometime you may long for their caresses.
10. Don't fail to fulfill all promises.  This will instill confidence.
11. Don't give opportunity for the children to question your justice.
12. Don't fail to be kind and considerate.  Kindness is a mighty conqueror.
13. Don't neglect forming the acquaintance of your children's playmates and companions.
14. Don't try to frighten your children into obedience by telling them ghostly tales, or shutting them up in a dark place.
15. Don't fail to require good manners at the table.  Habits early formed will stay by children through life. 
16. Don't use language that you would blush to hear your children repeat.
17. Don't manifest partiality toward any one of your children.  They are keen observers.
18. Don't look for polite answers from your littles ones if you fail in this respect.  They are excellent imitators.
19. Don't treat your girls and boys in such a careless way that they will bestow their confidence elsewhere.  When you lose that, you lose your stronghold.
20. Don't put everything up out of the reach of the baby finger.  An understanding that some things are not to be touched will be a good lesson in self-control.
21. Don't turn a child off with an evasive answer when he is seeking special information.  He will get it elsewhere.
22. Don't deceive yourself by thinking that your children will grow up to be gentlemen and ladies unless you treat them as such.
23. Don't frown and scold the children continually and expect them to be sweet-tempered.
24. Don't feel above making an apology if you have wronged your child.  This is one way of establishing confidence.
25. Don't permit your children to stay with their playmates overnight.  Be fearful of their learning lessons of impurity.
26. Don't fail to instill honor and truthfulness into their young hearts, by example as well as by precept.  To do this under all circumstances requires courage, but it pays.

Oh, if we were to turn from the things of the world and become the keepers of our homes, we would surely change our families, our nation and our future. 

A Quiet and Gentle Breeze

When I was a little girl, my family and I lived on a small island in Puget Sound, a short ferry boat ride away from Seattle.  My grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins lived on the same island, as did our entire circle of friends and acquaintances.  Our island was small.  Everybody knew everyone else.  Our neighbors were like family and our family were our neighbors.  Island living was small-town living at its best (and sometimes, at its worst). 

Across the street, in a yellow farmhouse that was built in the 20's, lived an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Breeze.  Mrs. Breeze was a wonderful, meek gentlewoman.  She was tiny, soft spoken and much beloved by my brother and I.  On occasion, Mrs. Breeze would appear at the end of her driveway as my brother and I walked by on our way to school.  Seeing her, we would trot across the street to give her a quick hug and she would reward us with small paper bags of homemade caramel corn.  Our walk to school was bathed in the warm glow of neighborly love and sugary sweetness.  We loved Mrs. Breeze.

Mr. Breeze was another story.  He was gruff and surly, perhaps even a little bit mean.  Any time my brother or I would knock on Mrs. Breeze's door, she would quickly usher us through the living room, past Mr. Breeze and into her sunny, light-filled kitchen.  But, no matter how quickly we scampered, we could never escape the living room without at least a little bit of bluster from Mr. Breeze. 

Sweet Mrs. Breeze and her cheerful kitchen were well worth mustering the courage to rush past Mr. Breeze.  She would seat us at her homey table, pour tall, cold, glasses of milk and set out a pretty, flowered plate full of Vanilla Wafers.  To this day I cannot eat a 'nila wafer without think of Mrs. Breeze.  Every crisp, golden cookie reminds me of gentleness, kindness and a sunny yellow kitchen.

Although I didn't know it at the time, Mrs. Breeze was an extraordinary woman.  Mrs. Breeze had married Mr. Breeze when she was very young.   They'd had a family, lived a life.  And every day of that life, Mrs. Breeze had prayed.  She had prayed for a husband that didn't know the God she served.  She had prayed for  husband that was mean and sometimes violent.  She had prayed for a husband that drove her children away and made them loath to visit.  She had prayed for a husband that was unlovable and incapable of loving. 

Mrs. Breeze loved Mr. Breeze in a way that is only possible through Jesus.  She loved him when he told her she couldn't attend church.  She loved him when he grouched at the neighbor children.  She loved him with a simple, gentle love - a love that he didn't deserve but was worthy of her Savior.  Mrs. Breeze radiated Jesus' love to her husband for over 60 years.  60 years that would have reduced a lesser woman to hopelessness.  60 years that could have hardened her heart and embittered her soul.  But Mrs. Breeze understood eternity.  She knew that as long as her husband drew breath, there was hope.  She trusted that Jesus was her champion and her redeemer and that He heard her prayers.  She trusted His word.  She had faith that could move a mountain. 

And move a mountain it did.  When Mr. Breeze was in his late 80's, he came to know Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.  He was a changed man.  He spent his remaining (few) years cherishing his wife and building relationships with his children.  No longer did my brother and I run through the living room on the way to the kitchen, now we stopped to visit, and even hold hands, with this new, jovial man that was Mr. Breeze.

As a grown woman, I know Mrs. Breeze in a way that I never imagined as a little girl.  Where I used to see her as a quiet, gentle, tiny lady, I now know that she was a mighty warrior.  She battled on behalf of her husband - not against flesh and blood but against powers and principalities.  In her quiet and gentle way she led her husband to the throne of Christ, though it cost her much - everything.  She persevered, in spite of common wisdom, and gained the world.   

Mrs. Breeze was my first Titus 2 woman, even though I was only 7 years old....

"Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good.  Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that none will malign the word of God."

 

Titus 2:3-5

Our marriages are precious.  God is faithful.  Be that quiet and gentle breeze.  It can move mountains.

**WARNING** Gluten-Filled, Sugar-Laden, Fat-Loaded Recipes

Mondays are generally very busy at Little Shouse on the Prairie.  The house has to be put back in order after a weekend of outside work.  The laundry has to be caught up and the pantry needs to be filled with fresh baked goods.  Miss Serenity and I worked from sunup and by noon the shouse was beginning to take shape.  The floors had been swept and vacuumed, the bread was rising and the sunroom had been arranged for summer.  After I washed the dishes, I sliced peppers and onions, cut up chicken and made a marinade for chicken fajitas.  After getting the bread into the oven, I quickly put together a cake for desert. 

This was no ordinary cake.  It was a Cinnamon Swirl tea cake.  It really shouldn't be indulged in very often - it's that good.  It is full of everything that is currently on the "Do Not Eat" list (but don't be bothered - that list will change again as soon as junk science discovers the many health benefits of gluten, sugar and fat).  If you are in the mood to defy current social health dogma, this is the recipe for you!

Cinnamon Swirl Tea Cake

Cake:
3 C flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 C sugar
4 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 C milk
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
1/2 C butter, melted

Cinnamon Swirl:
1 C butter, softened
1 C brown sugar
2 T flour
1 T cinnamon

Glaze:
2 C powdered sugar
5 T milk
1 tsp. vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Butter a 9 x 13 cake pan.

Mix all of the cake ingredients together, except for the butter.  After you have mixed the batter, add the butter and mix well.  Pour into the prepared cake pan.

In a separate bowl, mix the cinnamon swirl ingredients.  Drop by the spoonful evenly over the cake batter.  Using a butter knife, swirl the topping into the cake batter.  Bake for 28 - 30 minutes.

While the cake is baking, prepare the glaze.  After the cake is done (toothpick inserted in center of cake comes out clean), pour glaze evenly over the top (while the cake is still warm).

Cake batter

Cinnamon swirl mixture

Cake batter spread in the pan

Drops of cinnamon swirl

Swirled the cinnamon

 

Fresh from the oven and ready for glaze!

Glaze

 

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As requested, the recipe for the black-bottomed muffins that I made on Saturday.....

Black-Bottomed Muffins

Filling:
6 oz. cream cheese
1/3 C sugar
1 egg
1 C chocolate chips

Muffin:
1 1/2 C flour
1 C sugar
1/4 C cocoa
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 C water
1/3 C oil
1 T vinegar
1 tsp. vanilla

For the  filling - combine cream cheese, sugar and egg.  Mix in the chocolate chips.  Set aside.

In a separate bowl, mix all of the muffin ingredients and stir well.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Fill paper lined muffin cups half full.  Top with 1 tablespoon of the cream cheese filling.

Bake for 20 - 30 minutes.  Cool.  Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

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Happy baking!

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

This is a post specifically written for women.  If you aren't a woman, you may wish to politely look the other way!

Ladies, modern society has us completely turned around.  We our taught to serve our children and shun our husbands.  We build our family's foundation on an alter dedicated to the worship of our young.  We cater to their needs, to their desires and to their demands.  We place their feelings above all else.  We allow them to sleep with us, to interrupt us and to disrespect us.  Our children take first place in our lives, with our husbands coming in a distant third.

This cannot be.  As wives, it is our duty, and our honor, to respect our husbands.  Here's the tricky part.  We need to respect them even when they are not respectable.  Does that mean that we have to agree with everything they say and do?  Of course not, that would be impossible!  But it does mean that when we disagree, we must approach them with a high degree of respect and honor.  We don't get to tell them how stupid they are or how juvenile or how idiotic they are being.  Instead, we gently present our case.  And we choose to accept their decision - even if it's wrong.

As Christian women, we are called to honor and respect our husband.  Never once does the Bible tell us to honor and respect our husbands if they are honorable - or even respectable.  We are told to do it because it is right.  Although being respectful to our husbands sometimes seems positively impossible, even odious, the beautiful harvest that we will reap is awe inspiring.  What harvest, you ask?  You will reap the blessings of a peaceful home.  You will reap the blessings of your husband's love.  You will reap the blessings of children who, watching your example, will choose to be respectful to you, even when you don't deserve their respect.  What you sow in obedience you will harvest in abundance.

Believe it or not, Sir Knight and I are far from perfect.  We do not always get along.  Sometimes he hurts my feelings.  Sometimes I make him angry.  Sometimes I think that a lasting marriage is truly an impossibility.  But I know the truth of God's word.  I know that I am called to respect my husband, no matter what the circumstances.  The trick sometimes, is knowing what respect looks like.  Over the years, I have found a number of ways that I can be respectful to my husband.  These things I do - always - to show my husband respect (even when I don't want to).

1. When our family gathers for tea, I always serve Sir Knight first.  He is the husband, father, priest prophet, provider and protector.  He gets preferential treatment!
2. When we share our afternoon tea, small children are not allowed in the kitchen and the older children (who take tea with us) are not allowed to enter our conversation until Sir Knight and I have spent time re-connecting.  He gets preferential treatment! 
3. I never allow the children to interrupt their father.  He gets preferential treatment!
4. I never volunteer my husband for anything.  I ask.  
5. I never speak unkindly about my husband.  He is the man God provided for me.  To speak unkindly of my husband would be to speak unkindly about the God who gave him to me.
6. I teach my children to love and respect their father.  I extol his virtues in front of them and teach them to forgive his human inadequacies.
7. I pray for my husband

It is not always easy to be the wife God intends for me to be.  I struggle and I fail and sometimes I resent having to be respectful.  But in my heart of hearts, I know that God's word is true.  I know that God knows what is best for families and that what is best for a family is for the wife to respect her husband and for the husband to love his wife.  I need to respect Sir Knight - even when he hasn't earned my respect.  And he needs to love me - even when I am unlovable.  Obeying the word of God builds a foundation for the family that is indestructible.

Those who have ears, let them hear.  The world would have you build your house on the sand, but in Christ, you will build your house on a Rock.  Start building today using respect as your mortar.  Your house will stand - and your husband will rise and call you blessed.

Note:  I am having a difficult time answering comments - not sure what's up.  Please feel free to email me directly if you have a question.

A Case for Women's Liberation

I live a life of ultimate women's liberation.  My freedom is abundant and life-giving.  I truly am blessed among women.  I, Enola Gay, a stay-at-home wife and mother am the poster child for a new breed of women libbers.

Traditionally, women's lib has been associated with breaking the bonds of a restrictive home-centered life and pursuing the "fulfilling" passions of life beyond the family.  It has been about the "self" focused  desires of women to stand on "equal" footing with men.  Unfortunately, rather than women achieving their longed for freedom, women's lib has effectively shackled women with the responsibilities of both women and men.

When I was growing up, I bought into the "new normal" for women.  I eschewed the thought of marriage and children, embracing the idea of being independent, powerful and marvelously free.  I left my family home, moved to the city and went to work, enthusiastically embracing my new found "freedom".

Little by little, I realized that my "freedom" was nothing more than an illusion.  I had embraced women's liberation and in doing so I had shackled myself to the responsibilities traditionally shouldered by men.

Ten years I lost.  Ten years of doubling my burden.  For ten years I carried the responsibilities of both a man and a woman.  And then I woke up.   I left the false world of "women's liberation" and became truly liberated.  I was liberated from being responsible for financially supporting my family.  I was liberated from working for someone else for mere money.  I was liberated from having to go to work when I was sick or when my children were ill.  I was liberated from having to put aside my passions and desires simply because I had to collect a pay check.  I was liberated from working for someone else and was finally allowed to simply work for my family and myself.  I was liberated indeed.

Today, my husband got up and went to work.  It was 5°.  He works outside.  And his knee is still sore from knee surgery.  But he went to work.  He went to work because it is his job to support our family.  He doesn't particularly like his job, but he does it anyway.  Why?  Because that is his burden and he does it because he loves us.  My husband has relieved me of the job of living in a man's world.  I don't have to work outside when it is 5°.  I don't have to do physical labor with a sore knee.  I am liberated.

As a stay-at-home wife I have tremendous freedom.  I have the freedom to pursue dreams that would have been unattainable had I not left the working world.  I have the freedom to cultivate creativity, to create a beautiful home and to freely minister to all of the people that I love.  I have the freedom to work for eternal purposes, not just monetary gain.  I have the freedom to be a woman - nothing more, nothing less - just what I was created to be.

I can't tell you how thankful I am to have been liberated.  I am so glad that I do not have to bear the burden of both man and woman, that I am free to fully embrace my wonderful, abundant life.  Oh, the blessings of true women's liberation.

What I Didn't do Today

Today, I didn't roll out of bed, stumble into the shower and get ready for work while trying to figure out how to get all of the kids fed and properly clothed before sending them into the dark morning to catch the school bus.

Today, I didn't spend 15 minutes at a drive-thru coffee shop waiting for my morning cup of liquid energy just to give me the courage to make my morning commute.

Today, I didn't gossip with the ladies at the front desk or file paperwork for my demanding boss.

Today, I didn't spend my hours at the office feeling guilty that I wasn't home with my children.

Today, I didn't spend my hours at home feeling guilty that I wasn't at the office.

Today, I didn't grab lunch on the run.

Today, I didn't stress about missed deadlines.

Today, I didn't feel overwhelmed and resentful while making dinner for my family.

Today, I didn't eat dinner slouched in front of the television.

Today, I didn't get angry with my husband for asking me to do one more thing.

Today, I didn't go to bed feeling guilty about not spending enough time reading to, talking to or playing with my children.

Today, I didn't have to think of any man other than my husband.

____________________________

Today, I loved my life.

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Why do I love my life?  Because I have freedom.  I have the freedom to live my life for my family, to serve them, nurture them and care for them.  I have the freedom to create a beautiful home, cook wonderful meals and raise future heads-of-state (or at least heads-of-households).

Today, I got to have tea with my husband before he left for work.

Today, I got to cuddle with my children and make breakfast for them.

Today, I got to study the bible.

Today, I got to teach my children how to read, how to count and how to reason.

Today, I got to grind grain and make bread.

Today, I got to steam a pudding for dessert.

Today, I got to put dinner in the oven early, do the dishes, peel potatoes and create an impossibly cozy home for all of my family to gather at days end.

Today, I got to have tea with my husband when he got home from work.

Today, I got to read to my children, pay the bills and trek in the newly fallen snow.

Today, I got visit with my girlfriend as we watched the snow fall gently to the ground.

Today, I got to pray for my daughter's friend, shaken as she faces life's uncertainties.

Today, I got to stretch my feet before a warm fire and sip hot cocoa in the candlelight.

_____________________________

Today

I have the best job in the world.  

Wife.  Mother. Daughter.  Friend.  

I am blessed beyond measure.

_____________________________

When asked if I am just a stay-at-home mom, I smile.  Yes, I am just a stay-at-home mom.  It is what I was created for - the job description was written in my DNA.  It is my job - and I want no other.

A Crown to Her Husband

When I was growing up, it was expected that any women of worth would pursue an advanced education, secure a well-paying job and embark on her own personal journey of "having it all".  She knew that her sense of worth came from accolades achieved in the business world rather than in the appreciation of "some man".  She knew that the only path to personal fulfillment was to follow her dreams and succeed in her chosen profession.  She knew, that unlike her unfortunate predecessors, she would never be dependent on a man to complete her life.  She, I... knew everything.

When I was in my early 20's I experienced an unexpected renaissance.  I began to question everything I had grown up believing.  I stopped ignoring the gnawing ache that I experienced every time I dropped my daughter off at preschool.  I began to allow myself to enjoy serving and caring for my husband.  I began to crave the praises of my grateful family instead of the "atta girls" from my boss.  I began to understand that the work and effort I put into my family had returns far greater than could ever be realized in a mere "paying" job.

Over the years, I have had the opportunity to know many different people, with many different backgrounds and many different talents.  I have watched as families have flourished and as they have failed.  I have seen wives build their homes up and tear their homes down.  I have watched as some women gave everything to their families and other women gave everything to their job.

When I was in the working world, I put all of my strength, effort and talent into making money for the boss.  When he told me to jump, I asked "how high?".  If my husband and I had plans for the weekend and a last minute "emergency" project came in, my plans with my husband were inevitably scrapped.  My job came first.  My boss, not my husband, was on the receiving end of my best.  In my quest for personal fulfillment, I exchanged the freedom of being a wife for slavery of being just an employee.

When women use their gifts and talents in their home, it is a thing of unsurpassed beauty.  I love cooking, baking and making my house a home.  I could go out into the world, start a business and be highly successful, however, that would be a waste of my talents.  Think about it.  If I ran a restaurant or a bakery or an interior design business, I could delight a few customers for a few years.  If, instead, I bake for my family and create a cozy, inviting home for my husband and children, I will impact generations of people.  By using the gifts that God has given me to serve the most important people in my life, I can direct the course of the future.  Just try to get a paying job to do that!

The truth of the matter is that when you use your strengths in a job, no matter how good you are, you are still just an employee.  Even if you own the business and you're the boss, your business is just a business.  It is not eternal.  But, your husband and your children are.  They deserve the very best of you - not the leftovers.

When you are feeling overwhelmed, unappreciated and like you're wasting your life serving everyone but yourself, be of good courage.  You are becoming a crown to your husband - an object of royal beauty.  Your children will one day raise up and called you blessed - something your boss will never do.  In truth, a paycheck is a poor substitute for the riches of true womanhood.

Mothering Up

For the last 6 months or so, I have been revisiting my priorities.  In the midst of a busy, happy life, I have felt the consistent nudging of my heart moving me in a different direction.  It has been little things - a four year old nestled at my elbow waiting for me to finish sewing to read to him or play a rousing game of Candyland, a 17 year old man wanting to know what the Bible says about tattoos and body piercings, a 13 year old girl who confesses that she is afraid she won't be able to pull the trigger on her first deer but is ready to preserver after a prayer for protection and boldness.  And it is not just my children that need a mother - my husband needs a wife.  Sir Knight's days are long and his burdens many.  He relies on a smiling face and a warm welcome when he returns from slaying the dragons.  A cup of tea and a listening ear are essential to his well being.  When dragons are threatening to overwhelm my Knight, an encouraging word and the knowledge that I have his back and that I believe in him are what carries him forward in battle.

By nature, I am a go getter.  I tackle whatever task is before me with vigor.  Truth be told, I may even be an over-achiever.  Because of that tendency, I have to stop from time to time and reevaluate my life.  I have to get back to basics and remember what is really important.  I fill my life with "good" things but every once in a while I have to remind myself to get back to what is "best".

In the past 4 years I have started this blog, written a book, almost completed another book, written articles too numerous to mention and started a business.  This, on top of being a wife, a mother, homeschooling, making nearly everything from scratch and living off the grid.  I am failing.  Although I enjoy all that I do, and they are all "good" things, they are not all the "best" things.  My first priorities HAVE to be my husband and my children.  It is time for me to "Mother Up".

As my children have gotten older, I have noticed that they need me more than ever.  When they were little, they needed guidance and discipline.  They needed stories and snuggling and playing outside.  As they have grown, their needs have changed.  Once, they took every bible story at face value, now they want to know how God's word correlates to the reality of living life.  They want to know how the Old Testament corresponds with the New Testament.  They want to know HOW to control their temper when someone says something unkind or untrue.  They want to know why people live the way they do, why governments run the way they do and why people think the way they do.  They want to know how to choose a mate, what God says about how they should dress and why they still have to struggle with doing the right thing even when they know what the right thing is.  My children want to know about life.  And I am their teacher.

I have come to the conclusion that my job as wife and mother trumps all other jobs.  If I do not encourage and love my husband, someone else will.  If I do not teach my children, correct my children, guide my children, someone else will.  And their lives, both here and in eternity, will bear the fruit of my choices today.

Families are failing.  Fathers have been dethroned.  Children have been cast to the wolves.  Mothers are gone.  Our nation is sobbing, in sackcloth and ashes.  Our clothes have been rent and ashes cover our heads.

The answers we seek are not in more laws and tighter security.  The answers we seek are in God's plan for the family.  We need fathers.  We need mothers.  Our children are OUR responsibility.  WE need to raise them, to guide them, to teach them.  Women - your husbands NEED you - your children NEED you.  They don't need your money - they need YOU!  They need your wisdom, they need your example, they need your ear.  They need you to listen, to counsel, to know them.  They need you to believe in them, to champion them, to guide them and to disciple them.  Your boss doesn't NEED you - you are replaceable to him - NOT to your children.

I am a wife.  I am a mother.  That is purpose of my heart.  My God needs me to change the world - through my husband and my children.  I will head the call.

At this moment, I have shut down my business website.  Technically, it is still online, however there is no way to place an order.  Maid Elizabeth and I are in the process of finishing up our last few orders.  We will make decisions regarding the business in the new year.  Sir Knight and I are discussing the future of this blog.  We're not sure - I'll keep you posted.  We are circling the wagons.  We are preparing to defend this precious gift of our family with our lives.

To all of you women - it is time.  Be a wife.  Be a mother.  This IS your calling.  The time has come to gird your strength and "Mother Up".  Your family is everything!

*Sidenote -  Master Hand Grenade does NOT want a tattoo or a body piercing!  He just wanted to know what God's word said about them.  He was having a hard time understanding why they are so prevalent in society today!

To be a Gentlewoman

Gentleness (clemency).  God's gentleness is his grace, goodness and mercy and favors proceeding therefrom.  It applies to mildness of disposition.  It often permits intrigues.  It is opposed to harshness, severity, pride, violence and oppression.  It makes one unwilling to cause unhappiness or pain.  Gentleness prompts us to relieve want, overlook injury, restrain unkind feelings, soften severe judgement and correct ungracious manners.  It is evidence of refinement.  It is the dove-like influence that broods over and becomes guardian of one's  kindly inclinations.

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A sobering thought struck me as I was walking with my eldest daughter the other morning.  Womankind has lost one of her most persuasive, refining traits - the trait of gentleness.  In our current culture, women are encouraged to be aggressive.  They stand up for their rights and confront problems head-on, making no excuses.  If their children, their husband, their boss or even the sales clerk step out of line, they are quick to point out the error and demand immediate, contrite rectification.  They are commonly known as hags, nags, witches, harpies and any other number of unflattering euphemisms.  Women have gone from bringing out the best in mankind to bringing out the worst.

I, too, am guilty.  I have taken it upon myself to yell at my children (and even my husband) when they don't immediately take action when I have spoken.  I have said unkind things and reacted with an angry tongue when I am frustrated.  I have been selfish and self-centered, wanting the best all to myself.  I have been less than a gentlewoman.  But, I have been wrong.

I grew up raising horses.  I spent innumerable hours in the saddle and on the ground, training, training, training.  One thing that was instinctive, especially when dealing with a scared or unmanageable horse, was gentleness.  When a horses nostril flared and a wild look came into their eye, the first thing I did was lower my voice, talk soothingly and very gently stroke their face, neck and shoulder.  I whispered softly, moved slowly, and spoke to my charge of their strengths and unmatched character.  With undemanding gentleness, I would bring my steed back to a place of reason and from there, we would move to the task at hand, steady and strong.  Gentleness was my unfailing friend.

What a different outcome there would have been had I not been trained in gentleness.  Had I yelled at a wild eyed horse, I may very well have been trampled.  Had I hit a scared animal, the consequences may have been dire.  Most certainly, I would not have gained the confidence of the animal I was working with and would never have had the opportunity to guide that horse to its full potential.

Therein lies the key. Gentleness.  When I respond to my husband, my children or any person in my life with gentleness, I have the opportunity to speak into their lives.  A gentle word can turn away wrath and change the outcome of an argument.  A soothing voice can calm an explosive situation.

Throughout history, women have been a calming, refining influence.  Their gentleness and grace elevated mankind, bringing forth the best qualities while discouraging the base.  Men have been willing to fight and die on blood filled moors to defend their gentlewomen of honor.

Are we those same women?  Do we elevate our men and our children?  Are we a calming, gentling influence or does our very presence ignite strife?  To be a gentlewoman is to be a woman of persuasion, of influence.

Ladies, we can change our world.  Through our gentleness and grace we can change the course of our history.  Our gentle words can turn away wrath and our humility and grace can guide the feet of our children.  We may not be able to reform our country but we can reform our families.  Oh, to be a gentlewoman.

A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.

A wholesome tongue is a tree of life: but perverseness therein is a breach in the spirit.

Every wise woman buildeth her house: but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands.

Proverbs 14 & 15

After Action Report

As you know, last week Sir Knight, Master Hand Grenade and I were pin cushions for Maid Elizabeth and her classmate as they practiced starting I.V.'s for their Advanced EMT course.  Well, the practice paid off and I am pleased to announce that Maid Elizabeth is now an Advanced EMT (also known as an EMT-I) and is qualified to intubate and administer intravenous fluids, among other things.

Maid Elizabeth is in the process of trying to finish all of her qualifications to become a CPM (Certified Practical Midwife) and may be heading off to Northern California to complete her training.  In order to take her CPM test, she must have attended 20 births (she has attended well over 50), been the primary midwife at 20 births (she has been primary at 17) and have 4 continuities, which means she needs to have conducted prenatal visits, been primary midwife and conducted a post natal exam with the same client (she has had 3 continuities).  So close, and yet so far!  Without having her CPM she cannot accept clients, but without accepting clients, she can't get her CPM!  And so, she has been in touch with a midwife in California that is extraordinarily busy and is in need of an apprentice for a  month or six weeks.  If she were to work with this midwife, she would be able to finish her requirements and test - finally.  I'll keep you posted on her progress.

I am excited for Maid Elizabeth to finish her training, however, I am also somewhat apprehensive.  Our healthcare is changing.  What was legal yesterday may not be legal tomorrow.   When Maid Elizabeth began her training, I thought she would use it to help ladies rediscover the intense, beautiful bond between mother and child.  Now, I wonder if perhaps she will use her training to bind the wounds of the remnant and ease the path of the dying.

What have we done....

Prepared Family Products Presents the Emergency Birth Kit

Recently, while we were taking inventory of our preparedness supplies, we noticed a gaping hole.  Although we are well stocked with emergency medical necessities, we had none that were specifically geared toward pregnancy, labor, delivery and immediate post-partum.  Realizing that this oversight could mean the difference between life and death, Maid Elizabeth took action.

Drawing on her experience as a midwife, not only stateside but also as an out-of-country missionary midwife, Maid Elizabeth began gathering supplies that she considered essential.  Although basic, her kit is filled with the necessities required to help non-medical personnel deliver a baby safely in a home environment.  This kit was designed to provide the education and tools for a lay person to successfully deliver a baby in a grid-down, TEOTWAWKI situation.

The Emergency Birth Kit is combat packed (once opened, the items you need first will be on the top and will progress in descending order to the bottom of the bucket) and filled to the brim.  An excellent emergency childbirth book is at the top of the bucket, enabling expectant parents to prepare for impending birth, as well as a number of brochures explaining uses for specific items.  A list of items is attached to the back of the bucket, along with the quantity of each item.  An index is also packed in the bucket explaining the intended use for each item enclosed.

Having had most of my children at home, I can attest to the fact that this birth kit is extraordinarily comprehensive.  The fact that it is packed in a labeled 5 gallon bucket makes it perfectly complimentary to most every preppers food and equipment stores.

The reality is that in a worst-case scenario situation unexpected births will happen. Having a birth kit at the ready will bring a modicum of calm to an already stressful situation.  As preppers we try to have all the bases covered.  The Emergency Birth Kit is a necessary component of every survivalists plan of action.

If you are interested in purchasing an Emergency Birth Kit, just click the Birth Kit button on the right-hand side of the blog or go to www.naturallycozy.com.

A Working Woman

Once upon a time, I thought I had it all.  I was a wife, a mother and a legislative liaison for a large and flourishing Chamber of Commerce.  I immersed myself daily in House and Senate Bills, wading through page after page of proposed legislation to determine their affects on business.  I wore snazzy suits and high heels and regularly mingled with political and business leaders to discuss "important" issues of the day.  I shook hands with senators and rubbed shoulders with corporate giants.  And then, I went home.

During my years as a "working woman" I held the philosophy of most other women I knew. Stay-at-home moms were lazy.  They were pathetically dependent upon their poor husband for everything.  They did nothing but wash dishes, sweep floors and hang out in their sweats all day.  I viewed them as an objects of scorn and derision.  While I was making a difference in the world, they were wiping snotty noses and watching "Oprah".

After years of "having it all", doubts began to creep into my subconscious.  Why did I feel so guilty when I dropped my little girl off at daycare?  What on earth possessed me to want to make my own bread and feed my family wonderful meals when we could order in a pizza?  Why would I rather work in the garden than have cocktails with political elites?  Something was drastically wrong!

Little by little, I was awakened to the reality that I was designed to be the Mistress of my home.  Slowly, the hold of being a "working woman" began to lose its grip on me and the desire to serve my husband, care for my children and manage my own estate took hold.

In the years that followed my exit from the working world, our family changed drastically.    We pared down our lifestyle to match our income.  We planted a garden, bought a cow and had more children.  We looked to our own family for confirmation and encouragement, not some suit in a fancy car with alligator shoes.

And then the real work began.  All the years I had worked, I had been positive that at-home-moms were lazy and ignorant.  Six months of running (and I mean really running) my own home and I had a new respect for the Mistress of the house.  Before I left the working world, I had no idea how many things I had let slide in my own home.  My estate was in ruins.  I had been so busy working for another man, that I had neglected the one most important to me.

I had to completely regroup.  And, I had to completely relearn.  I had no experience with being the Mistress of my home.  What should I do?  Where should I start?  First, I had to learn what it meant to manage an estate.  Now I know many of you are asking "what the heck is she talking about - does she really have an estate?".  The answer is yes.  I live in a shop, in the middle of a prairie.  That is my estate.  I am in charge of managing this entire property.  My husband had entrusted me with this sacred duty.  It is my job to see that this home runs well, that healthy meals are placed on the table.  It is my job to see that my children are loved and well cared for.  It is my job to teach my children and train and mold their character.  It is my job to see that the buildings, roads and vehicles are well maintained.  I see to the gardens, the bees and the building of infrastructure.  I attend to the sickness, the scrapes and bruises and the mental health of all of my children and my husband.  I manage the estate finances and work with the contractors (most often my children).  I also direct the estate businesses (our home businesses).  The truth of the matter is that I have never worked so hard in my life!

The reality is that a stay-at-home mother is at the very heart of our great nation.  We raise the children, we manage the home, we improve the economy and we shape the souls of the next generation.  Just try to find a CEO with that kind of job description!

I have read with great interest the attacks being leveled against Ann Romney (wife of presidential contender Mitt Romney) because she has "never worked a single day in her life".  I can remember a time when I would have uttered such an ignorant statement - a time before I realized that I was the Mistress of my home.  Now I just laugh at such nonsense.  Obviously, the strategist who made those statements has no idea what it means to manage your husbands estate.  And therein lies the problem.

And now, I must get back to my soap operas and bon bons....

Until next time.

Cheese in a Fortnight

We spent the weekend with some friends who were kind enough to send us home with 2 gallons of fresh, raw milk.  Knowing that to drink it right up would quickly end our enjoyment, we chose instead to make cheese.

Over the years, we have made many different varieties of cheese including Farmhouse (cheddar), Gouda (an all-time favorite), Caerphilly and Parmesan (we aged it for 9 months - it was out of this world!).  Being somewhat greedy for a brick of homemade cheese, this time we opted for Caerphilly, which only takes two weeks to properly age (although in England and Wales (were it originated) they age it for up to two months).

My recipe came with my cheese press, which was imported from England.  About 14 years ago, Sir Knight bought the Wheeler Cheese Press (I don't believe the Wheeler is imported any longer, however, New England Cheese Company seems to now make the same press) for me for Mothers Day.  Since then, wheel upon wheel of cheese has been pressed, aged and enjoyed by this family.  We have learned the importance of sterilizing everything that touches the cheese.  We have learned that cheese must be tended, even after it is out of the press.  We have learned that the quality of milk that goes into the cheese has everything to do with the quality of cheese that comes out of the press.  We have learned which cheeses we like and which are a waste of milk.  We have learned that experience is the best teacher.

What you need to make this cheese:

• A dairy thermometer
• A set of stainless steel measuring spoons
• A long knife or palette knife for cutting curds
• A bucket or vessel to contain the milk.  (Stainless steel is best; plastic of good quality will do if it can be sterilized; never use galvanized steel or iron)
• Cheese cloth
• A good supply of hot water is necessary for bringing up the temperature of the milk by standing the container in a sink or wash boiler
• A cheese press
• Starter (Thermophilic)
• Rennet (not junket)

All equipment must be very clean and be sterilized by scalding with boiling water.

Caerphilly Cheese

Use 2 gallons of milk, 1/2 morning and 1/2 evening milk.  For this cheese, up to one third of the total quantity can be skim milk.

Heat to 90°F (goat's milk 85°F) (I heat the milk by putting my pot in a sink full of hot water), add 4 oz. starter (either direct set or cultured), stir well, cover and leave for 30 minutes.

Heating water in the sink

At the right temperature

The starter (which I keep in the refrigerator)

Add 1/2 tsp. of liquid rennet (if your rennet is in tablet form, dilute with 2 tsp. cold water) stir well right down to the bottom of the bucket for at least one minutes, cover and leave for 45 minutes.

With a long knife, or palette knife, cut the curd at 1/2" intervals, then at right angles again, cutting it across and across.  Using the ladle, cut spirally downward, starting in the middle at the top.  Now turn the curds right over, cutting any large ones, and continue this stirring for 40 minutes while heating rapidly to 92°F.

Cutting the curds

Stirring in a spiral motion

Quickly heating (and stirring) to 92°

Now allow the curds to settle in the bottom of the pail then pour off all the whey.

Cut the curds into slices like a cake, turn them over and pile them up for more whey to drain away.  Do this 2 or 3 times more at 5 minute intervals.

The whey has been drained and the curds cut in "cake-like" chunks

Now break the curd into walnut sized pieces and add salt at the rate of 1 oz to 4 lbs. of curd.

Ready to weigh the walnut-sized pieces of curd

Adding the salt (2 Tablespoons)

Have the press ready:  line the mold with scalded cheese cloth, fill it with the curds, fold one layer of cloth neatly over the top,  put in your follower, pile the rest of the cloth on top and put on the second spacer.  Now put under 20 lbs. pressure for 10 minutes.  Turn the mold upside down, replace follower and spacer and increase pressure to 30 lbs.  Do this twice more at 10 minute intervals, increasing the pressure by 10 lbs each time and finally leave the cheese under the maximum pressure (50 lbs.) for 14-16 hours.

Sterilizing the cheese press (everything that touches the cheese)

Awaiting the next step

Spooning the salted curds into the press

Getting ready to put the cheese under pressure

Pressing

Whey draining from the cheese

Under maximum pressure

Remove from the mold and uncover the cheesecloth.  The traditional treatment of this cheese is to dry it by sprinkling all over with rice and flour and putting to ripen at 50°F for two weeks, turning it daily (this allows the whey to sufficiently drain).  You can also air-dry it and wax it, but it needs an extra week to ripen.

Taking the cheese from the press

Removing the cheesecloth

Dusted with flour

Ready to age

Generally, I turn my cheeses twice a day - morning and evening.  This keeps the cheese dry, thus stemming any propensity to mold.  If I plan on keeping the cheese and not opening it right away, I will wax the cheese and continue to turn it about once a week.

There is nothing quite like homemade cheese.  Not only is it wonderful to eat, but there is such a sense of accomplishment when you take a knife to that wheel.

We enjoy Caerphilly on crackers but have also grated it for use in cooking.   The longer it ages the sharper it becomes, so if you age it for 3 to 6 months, it makes incredible macaroni and cheese.

Cheese is easy and fun, and, when you are culturing your starters, and incredible survival skill set.