A Work in Progress...

As I mentioned in my last post, Sir Knight and I and Master Hand Grenade are starting a butcher shop.  I know - I can't believe it either!  And never ones to do anything the easy way, we bought an old, derelict former service station in the small town I grew up in to turn into the "Boar's Head Butchery".  Let the fun begin!

Our goal is to have the shop remodeled and have everything up an running by September, just in time for hunting season.  We are planning on cutting and wrapping wild game along with slaughtering and butchering domestic animals.

We are up to our elbows in remodeling, so please bear with me....  I will keep you posted!!

Every day we thank God for His faithfulness.  This adventure that He has orchestrated is an adventure indeed!

The office - before

The office

The office - a work in progress

The whole west side had been damaged and was sagging

We have 8 city lots - over an acre of land!

The wall was in rough shape

Sir Knight - the demolition man!

Our pastor - a man of many talents - jacking up the roof!

Jacking up the middle section - you should have heard the glass creak!

Jesus was holding up the roof - nothing else was!!

The space above the window was how much we raised the roof!

Removing a piece of glass intact!!

The new wall going up!

Enclosed!!!

It is beginning to take shape!!

Women's Work

I love making a beautiful home.  Serving tea, making bread and schooling my children are part of my everyday life.  And I wouldn't change it for the world!  However, I've come to realize that my duties can't be limited to the household arts.  I am my husbands help-meet, and as such, the scope of my responsibility spans far beyond the kitchen proper. 

When Adam was in the garden, God sought a helper comparable to him.  Genesis 2:18  None among the animal kingdom were deemed comparable to Adam, so God caused Adam to sleep and took from his side Woman and presented her to Adam.  Genesis 2:19-22   Eve was designed to be Adam's helper, his completer, the flesh of his flesh.   Adam needed Eve.

And so it is today.  I am my husband's helper.  I care for our home, our children, our holdings - but I also do whatever needs to be done to help my husband care for our family.  Sir Knight works in town, about an hour away from our home.  He is there 5 days a week for nearly 10 hours a day.  So many things happen that require attention while he's gone, that I've learned to do what needs to be done.

In the early years of our marriage, I had a clear idea of what I considered "men's work" and "women's work".  I would take care of the house and children, garden and chickens, and he would be responsible for everything else.  While living in town, this separation of duties seemed to work well - and then we moved to the country.

I'm sure that if Sir Knight worked from home we would still have a similar separation of duties, however, he does not.  I have learned that to be an effective helpmeet, I've needed to become a Jill-of-all-trades.  In order to help my husband, I have learned to fix leaky pipes, troubleshoot fussy generators and thaw frozen pipes.  I've plowed snow, pulled out stuck vehicles and saved cows that have been stuck in bogs.  I've pulled a trailer laden with batteries (3000 lb. industrial batteries, to be precise) through the middle of a city during rush hour and then backed the trailer up a narrow road to off-load said batteries.  I've belayed a gun safe into a basement, using a tree as an anchor and saved a wind turbine from colliding with the ground after the guy wires broke during a wind storm.  I have learned to do what needs to be done and truly help my husband carry the burdens of life. 

Although I have learned to do a lot of things over the years, one thing I never learned was to run a chainsaw.  I remember my dad teaching my brother to run a chainsaw, say it was the most dangerous thing he had ever done.  I watched my husband teach our eldest son to run a chainsaw with fear and trepidation - and was thankful that was one skill I didn't have to learn. 

Over the last 16 years we have lived a rustic off-grid lifestyle, and I have come to realized that every new skill is an asset.  The more I know how to do, the more I can help my husband, my children, and myself, as well as those in my community.  And I want the same for my daughters. 

And so, we are teaching our children.  Our sons will know how to run a household and our daughters will know how to do whatever needs to be done - even if that means learning to use a chainsaw.

Miss Serenity is the first of our womenfolk who has learned to use a chainsaw - and I'm telling you - that girl's got skills!  Sir Knight taught her about safety (she never picks up a saw without saw chaps, hearing protection and safety glasses) and saw maintenance.    He taught her about controlling her saw and how to expect the unexpected.  He taught her to sharpen a chain and use a wedge.  He taught her to fell trees and cut off a log deck.  Miss Serenity uses her (Dad's) Stihl 044 with confidence.   Already she has helped many in our neighborhood with her chainsaw skills and she regularly helps me with our winter wood supply.  She is a blessing and a help.  She is a master at "women's work".

We will continue to raise our daughters to uphold the values extolled in Proverbs 31.  Our prayer is that our daughters will conduct their lives with wisdom, with strength, with virtue - that they will be the women God created them to be.   This truly is "Women's Work".

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.

We are being plundered

I have given this a lot of thought.  I have held my peace.  I have made excuses.   There is a part of me that wants to believe that it is our job to help people out long enough for them to get back on their feet, but then, I am slapped in the face with the realities of life.  My family is being plundered.

My husband goes to work every morning, rain or shine, tired or invigorated, injured or ill.  It is what he does.  His job is how he provides for his family.  Providing for his family is his moral obligation before God.  Not only does he provide for us, he also helps provide for the infrastructure to support the system that, as Americans, we are all a part of.   Through his job, he supports the elderly on Medicare, disabled folks on Social Security and indigent people on Medicaid.  His taxes pay for WIC, Food Stamps and the huge debt created by unemployment benefits.  And still he works.

I have heard more people that I can count tell me that they "deserve" to be on unemployment because they paid that money into unemployment insurance.  Of course, if they were to stop and add up the benefits they have received and contrast that with the money "they" (usually their employer) paid into the system, they would realize that they have won the lottery.  The "investment" they made into unemployment has paid off ten fold and then some.  Somebody has to be paying that bill.  It is my husband.  It is our family.

When people receive food stamps, were do they think that money comes from?  How do they justify eating frozen pizza and tater tots while our family eats beans and rice?  And don't even get me started on Medicaid.  How is it that my family is punished for being responsible and buying health insurance?  We have to pay twice!  Not only do we pay for insurance (no, my husband's employer does not foot the entire bill), but we are also responsible for the bills that our insurance company does not pay.  When we have a $12,000 hospital bill ($4,000 of which our insurance company covers) we are still on the hook for the other $8,000.  When you have Medicaid, the state pays $1,800 and the patient $0.  Who pays the rest?  My husband.  My family.  Your husband.  Your family.

Do I begrudge people help when they need it?  Absolutely not!  Do I begrudge entitlements with no accountability.  Absolutely!

We have failed.  We punish responsibility and reward slothfulness.  We are like lazy parents refusing to deal with disobedient, wayward children.  Rather than holding them accountable, disciplining them and making respectable citizens out of them, we throw money at them hoping they keep quite so we can get on with other things.  We are throwing our countrymen to the wolves.  

What got me frothing at the mouth?  Just this article on SurvivalBlog.  I have posted a chart here, but to really understand the chart, you have to read the whole article.  This is a chart showing how someone on minimum wage has more disposable income than someone making $60,000 a year.  It is very enlightening.

Essential Preparedness Tools of the Trade Part III - Working Hands

One of the most oft overlooked aspects of preparedness is practical application.  You can have all of the tools, supplies and reference materials to weather any storm that comes your way, but without willing hands to do the job, your preparations will be worthless.

Making Lemon Curd

Dipping Caramel Apples

When you consider all of the jobs our hands need to do, it is absolutely amazing.  We have got to be willing to get our hands dirty, do the hard things and soldier on.  I look at all of the things my husband does with his hands.  He works on generators, wires electric systems, chops wood, flips crepes, bandages injuries, hugs children, fixes fences, re-loads ammunition, shoots guns....the list could go on forever.  My husband is not a man afraid to get his hands dirty.  His hands often look as though they have been through a war.  They are scared, smashed and scratched.  They are the hands of a working man.  They are also often folded in prayer.  These are the hands we will need in order to survive the coming collapse.

Bandaging an injured toe

Kneading dough

Maid Elizabeth works at a grocery store.  She now works in the bakery department, but she used to be a checker.  She enjoyed her job as a checker, however, there was one aspect that she really had a hard time with - welfare.  She noticed a few things about the folks that would come through her line bearing their welfare card.  The first thing that she saw was that most of the ladies using their food-stamp card had professionally manicured fingernails.  They were often so long, that the women had to use a pen to push the buttons entering their PIN number.  They didn't empty their own cart, but waited for the checker or a bagger to empty it for them.  They bought no food that would require preparation.  They refused to put their own groceries in their car, but, once again, expected someone else to do it for them.  Then, to add insult to injury, they would get cash from their welfare card and gamble on the slot machines located next to the checkout lines at the store.  What will these people, who don't know how to work with their hands, do when the shumer hits the fan?  They will shrivel away waiting for someone else to take care of them.

Checking battery voltage

Watering batteries

Tinkering with the generator

Many people who go to work every day and provide for their families have forgotten how to work with their hands.  They type at lightening speed on their keyboards, are very experienced in texting and can maneuver their way through most any computer program, but can they lance a boil on a horse and nurse the wound back to health?  Can they sow seeds and tend a garden?  Can they repair a small engine and keep mechanical equipment in good working order?  Can they kneed bread and prepare biscuits?  Can they milk a cow or nurse an orphaned lamb?  When things get bad, all of the computer knowledge in the world won't amount to a hill of beans.  Only real life skills such as suturing, bandaging, animal husbandry and gardening, butchering and canning, cheesemaking and sewing will make life worth living.  If you don't have these skills, now is the time to learn.

Hanging laundry

Our children can be our greatest asset, but only if we are teaching them to use their hands.  In the day that we live, children are often bombarded with absolutely backward ideals.  They are taught that being entertained is the only thing that matters, that work is a thing to be avoided at all costs and that it isn't "fair" to have to earn your own way.  One of the sayings we live by in our home is "work before play".  Our kids have learned that a movie can only really be enjoyed after having spent the day fixing fences or chopping wood, that a cup of cocoa on a cold day is even better after they have trudged through 3 feet of snow in a blizzard to feed and water the animals.  They are learning the value of working with their hands.  They will be an asset to our family when TEOTWAWKI hits because they understand the value of work.  Rather than battling spoiled children who whine about doing the dishes, we will spend our time taking dominion over the tasks at hand.  

Our hands are one of our greatest preparedness tools.  Learn how to use them!

And remember, He made this with HIS own hands!

A Day of Rest

Sunday Evening Tea

Sir Knight and I try to make Sunday a day of rest.  We are not always as successful as we would like to be, but that is the goal.  I have found, that it is hard for women to not work on Sunday.  There are always things to be done.  We have to make meals and do dishes, but, with planning, we can make our work load tons lighter.

A number of years ago, I took to making our "Sunday Dinner" on Saturday.  This makes so much more sense to me.  I make a menu plan once a month and try to plan meals according to what we have on hand.  Our Saturday dinner usually revolves around a roast a chicken or a ham.  I make rolls on Saturday, so we can enjoy them hot out of the oven with our "Saturday Dinner", but I also make extra so that I can heat them up to go with soup on Sunday.  Usually, I make a double batch of roll dough, so that not only do we have rolls with dinner on Saturday and Sunday, but also Cinnamon Rolls on Sunday morning.  Rolls are quick and easy and don't require a lot of effort, but they are well worth the effort they do require.

Sunday has become our "Soup Day".  I use leftovers from the day before, cut it up and make soup.  After a roast dinner, we have Beef and Barley or Beef and Cabbage soup. After a Roast Chicken dinner, it is Chicken Rice & Dumpling soup or Chicken Noodle.  When we have a ham, our favorite soup is Ham and Black Eyed Pea soup.  Occasionally we have Minestrone, Potato or French Onion soup.  Soup takes little time and can easily be stretched to feed a crowd when you have the unexpected joy of practicing hospitality.

Our Sunday meal is usually eaten early in the day, so about five in the evening or so, we all begin to feel a little peckish.  Rather than making another meal, we fill this void with Afternoon Tea.

As most of you know, Sir Knight and I have tea every afternoon when he gets home from work, but Sunday Tea takes on a different flavor.  Our usual afternoon tea consists of tea only, or tea and cookies.  But Sunday Tea is a little more substantial.  Crackers and cheese, French bread and cheese or our favorite, Welsh Rarebit (which, for those of you who don't know, is essentially toast and cheese).  Yes, we do go through a lot of cheese (you can see why I miss my cow!).  We accompany our main dish with cookies or scones or muffins - whatever I happen to have on hand.

My work load on Sunday is greatly relaxed.  I look forward all week to snuggling next to the fire with a good book or looking through magazines that I never seem to have the time to pick up during the week.  I don't vacuum, sweep or do laundry.  By Monday morning, my house looks like a hurricane went through, but I don't care.  My Sundays are God's gift to me - and I like it that way!

I must be in business!

 UPS came trundling up our driveway today bearing gifts.  I am now buying fabric by the bolt which is so exciting!  No more making emergency trips to town to pick up some more fabric to get a set of pads out in a reasonable time - I will have what I need at my fingertips.  Now the only problem I have is were to put it!  Oh the joys and trials of having a small business.

Abundant Harvest

I walked out the door the other morning and was literally knocked over by the intoxicating smell of red clover.  It was heady, sweet and overwhelming.  There was a faint, underlying humm, as the bees flew from clover to clover gathering nectar and spreading pollen.  It was the smell and sound of summer.  Busy, pungent, glorious.

 
As I surveyed my surroundings, my eyes drank in the view.  We are surrounded by hay fields punctuated by a wheat field here and there and an occasional field of oats.  Farmers, busy about their tasks, are a testament to perseverance.  They put one foot in front of the other and get on with the business of life.  Regardless of economic perils, rising fuel prices or invading governmental regulations, the stock must eat.  Therefore, the farmer must hay.  And hay they do.

I look around at all of the tractors, farmers and school boys working their summer in the hayfield and I have hope.  This is America.  This is what Americans do.  They work hard.  They make do.  They find a way.  As long as there is a hay field, an American farmer will hay it.  As long as there is a wheat field, the wheat will be harvested, and people will eat.

I have hope.  Not in our government, but in the God who causes the sun to rise.  Not in our politicians, but in the farmers and people that make our world go around.  I look at this abundant harvest and I will save and store.  God has provided and I will not forsake His calling.  I will stack the hay high, bring in the wheat and the oats and I will thank God for His great providence.  I will thank Him for His Abundant Harvest.

Trauma Queen a.k.a. Maid Elizabeth

 I have had numerous readers wonder why our eldest daughter Maid Elizabeth stopped writing her blog "Trauma Queen".  A number of factors enter into her decision, but here are a few highlights.

Maid Elizabeth struggled to come up with things to write that she thought people would find interesting.  I found her blog wonderfully interesting, but apparently Mom's opinion doesn't count.  But the overwhelming reason for discontinuing her blog is her recent employment.

A few weeks ago Maid Elizabeth became employed by our local grocery store as a checker.  Although she loves EMS, she has a goal that she could not reach by volunteering as an EMT.  She is planning on spending three months next summer in the Philippines!

Elizabeth has been an apprentice midwife for roughly three years and that is where her passions lie.   Recently she was introduced to the opportunity to serve in a mission to the Philippines as an apprentice midwife helping with up to 30 births a week!  She will spend three months at the mission compound doing prenatals, post-natals and deliveries.  When she returns home, she will have the experience and knowledge to take her CPM (Certified Practical Midwife) exam and start her own practice.  It will be the fulfillment of her dreams on two counts.  First, she has always wanted to be a part of foreign missions and secondly, she has a great desire to be a back-country midwife.  We are all thankful for the opportunity.

The biggest reason she is no longer writing is that she flat out doesn't have the time.  Between working a full-time job (to earn money for airfare, lodging while in-country and other expenses) and studying her skills workbook she is too busy to do anything else!

We are so proud of our children.  What an honor it is to see them take their place in the world.  We pray that our arrows fly true.