Kitchen Snitch

My bend-over is broken

2014-06-06T11:57:00.000-05:00

Finally winter let go of its harsh grasp on our state and there's a mad rush to get everything planted as soon as possible when the weather finally allows work in the dirt.

After five days of working outdoors, its time to start pulling weeds already, but my bend-over is broken. That's right. the muscles between the waist and the shoulder bringing your body up and down as you plant and dig. Pretty soon, you are crawling along in the dirt only coming up for air at the end of the row. Its the foibles of growing old and being more than slightly out of weight from working indoors most of the time. Boo Hoo. My heart belongs to the fresh air and sunshine.

So every planting season, I find that while the work wears me out, I never feel better than when I have accomplished planting the garden. This year, we brought in a load of horse manure and I shoveled nearly a full pickup load to all the beds before my arms gave out.

Once that planting is done, the weeding begins and then the mulching and then the waiting for the harvest. Watching those tomatoes begin to fill out and climb upwards makes my mouth water... In my mind I see those vines to the ceiling of the hoop house loaded with fruit. what a sight that will be pulling into the driveway.

Of course, the weather seems to have cooled off, good for all those radishes and cabbage hiding under the low tunnels.

Everyone used to garden. It was how they grew their own food for summer and winter meals. While some (my spouse) may think that I am a little more than ambitious there is nothing and I mean nothing that is more gratifying to me than growing something. From all the plants I babysat for months to the final cleaning out the dead vines - it's all good. And I will keep you posted on the progress... right now I'm fighting some tiny grasshoppers, the deer, a racoon and those darn weeds. But we will overcome.

In the tradition of my mother and grandmother before me, I sow, so I can reap. But remember - You can seed and week and hoe, but only God can make it grow.

Making Vegetable Soup

2013-12-20T08:08:00.000-06:00

Okay, so it's Christmas and I have been a little lax in keeping up with my videos on local foods. But here is one I made earlier that will work for this time of year. It's a good time of year to practice your soup skills. Gute Essen.

Pumpkin Pie with local squash

2013-12-06T08:30:00.000-06:00

Sun rise and hoop houses

2013-12-02T08:30:00.000-06:00

The weather has been beautiful lately, but it's going to change...

Living the Local Life...

2013-11-25T14:25:00.000-06:00

Embarking on new adventures ... It hit me the other day that it would be a simple thing to share the local life with video clips instead of typing long sets of instructions mixed with my philosophical views...

So here is an introduction to next series of how-tos, in particular living the life of local foods. I hope you enjoy the clips and give me grace, as I do this myself and somethings just don't work out...

Remember you can email me questions at suebbalcom@gmail.com or comment at the bottom of the page. Good Eating...

Tuna and noodles and Cream of Mushroom soup

2013-11-22T08:30:00.000-06:00

My darling daughter called the other day and asked about a recipe for meatballs she made when living at home. The recipe came from the Emmanuel Lutheran Church ladies, circa 1975.

“Copy the recipe,” I said. “But, don’t take my cookbook with you.”

When I was visiting my mom, we talked cookbooks with Edryse Miller who walked by us delivering Miller Family cookbooks to the Community Cafe.

“If you want a recipe for anything, it’s in that Lutheran Cookbook,” my mom said. If you cook like a German anyway.

Garrison Keillor pokes fun a the Lutheran Church Basement Ladies in his weekly Prairie Home Companion broadcast. He even sang a song dedicated to the “casserole” dinners held at the church on every occasion. It went lyrically – “tu-na and noo-dles and Creammm of Mush-room soup....”

Don’t laugh. Even my children said how much they miss the potlucks we used to have at the church for New Member Sunday.

We eat out too much today. If we were to revive the era of hot dishes and Jell-o salad, maybe we’d be healthier. It was a way to use up leftovers, too. Sometimes, when I am trolling for a recipe to use up some leftover ham or zucchini overflow, I check that Lutheran Cookbook.

It’s instant dinner when you use a vegetable, a meat and a can of “Cream of Something” soup. Add onions and celery and bake at 350 degrees for somewhere between 30-60 minutes. Serve with your favorite colored Jell-o with shredded carrots or fruit suspended in it and you have a complete meal.

Not all recipes in that book are for casseroles. The book also has my favorite pie crust recipes and something called Mexicali Vegetable Soup with Meat Balls in there. That recipe has my name attached to it because my mother submitted it. (There’s also a typo and it reads “Mixicali Vegetable Soup...” which is a better description of the ingredients anyway.)

Some church ladies were quite worldly their submissions. There are recipes in the Foreign Foods section for Blachinda, Basti, Finnish Flat Bread, Kuchen Dough and filling, Fattigman and Bohemian Butter Tarts.

Of course, if you grew up Lutheran, these are not foreign foods in your house.

There are also some recipes with some very “unusual” ingredients in them like: Prune Cake, Potato Cake and Sauerkraut Cake. Trust me on this one, the sauerkraut tastes like coconut and keeps the cake very moist. (But so does coconut, I believe.) Then there’s my favorite, Ammonia Cookies. Thank goodness I didn’t try this before my Aunt Alice told me there’s a difference between baking ammonia and Mr. Clean.

Like any good cookbook, my favorite pages are bookmarked by stains and torn binding. Most of the pages are sugar-coated and toasted with age. It was printed pre-computer and the recipes are typewritten.

To fill in the white space at the bottom of the pages, there are quips like:
“The bonds of matrimony aren’t worth much, unless the interest is kept up” or “A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small bundle.”

And, yes, there are recipes for Jell-o salads and desserts, nearly every one used Dream Whip, Jell-o or Pudding mix as the main ingredient. There’s even a recipe for Tomato Soup Salad.

Most of all, the Lutheran Cookbook has memories. I recognize the names of ladies who cooked for the funerals and weddings on Saturdays and taught Sunday School on Sundays. There are names of classmates and friends, people who have passed away and people who I still run into once in blue moon.

I’m thinking maybe we should have more potluck dinners in this world?

What would I do?

2013-11-21T07:24:00.003-06:00

Never at a loss for things to do, I'm thinking I spend a lot of time doing things I don't really want to do in lieu of pursuing those things that I feel passionate about. Make sense, probably not. Every day I go to work, and it's not that I don't enjoy most of what i do, but in my heart I'm dreaming of other things.

This conflict has been torturing me for years now. At one time in my life when I was a working artist, and that includes starving, I felt I was doing what I was placed on earth to do. Those days were hand-in-hand with raising my two children. It was a good life. And, then things changed.

Somehow I thought to myself I can finish raising my children. They needed me at the time. Then, I can go back and pursue my dreams. Years passed and my confidence waned and continue to wane as I struggle to find my place again. I'm caught up in a life I really didn't expect, or ask for. So, what happened?

The week 6 chapter in a Bible study I'm doing online called A Confident Heart has unleashed a ton of feelings about my current life. I'm looking for some shoring up and decision making confidence.... but I'm lost.

Sunday, I had to go to church. I always tell people when I need to feel loved for who I am, who I really am, I go to church. It is where I found acceptance and love for the past 25 years. I poured my heart out to a friend of mine who told me that I was one of the most unique and talented people she has ever met - and then I ask myself... why am I afraid to let that work?

I'm waiting on the Lord, I'm really trying to look to him for the answer this time. We don't always listen now do we... it takes confidence. Within this morning's email was this paragraph from a post by Todd Henry on Michael Hyatt's blog via the Bible study hosts.

In the post, TH’s friend asks the question “Do you know what the most valuable land in the world is?” After numerous wrong guesses of places like diamond mines and oil rich lands, he replies, “It’s the graveyard… because with all of those people are buried unfulfilled dreams, unwritten novels, masterpieces not created, businesses not started, relationships not reconciled. That is the most valuable land in the world.”

That's almost to much to think about in a week's time, much less the 10 minutes I have spent in front of my computer this morning.

It reminds me of an art installation I created a few years back. It was ballet shoe covered with colorful crocheted flowers. Tucked inside was a photograph of my grandmother and at least 5 of her 12 children. The thought behind the piece was focused on how many wonderful ideas were not unleashed to the world, but rather tethered to my grandmother's hands, forgotten and discarded because of the work she felt she must do first. It was honorable work, work meant to feed her family, care for the farm and her husband.

We all must do what we have to do every day. I'm just hoping that today I find some confidence to do what God wants me to do. After all, I have been privileged to be blessed with many relatives, children and grandchildren; and God willing to reach another milestone birthday in this approaching New Year.

I'm glad it snowed last night. Winter is finally here - a blanket of white that gives me time to huddle and cuddle and reflect on my year.

Capturing the scent of Mother Nature

2013-11-06T12:59:00.002-06:00

It is impossible to mimic the scent of Mother Nature no matter how many times man tries – he misses the mark.

There’s something about the smell of natural that cannot be manufactured in a laboratory. You know the smell of the earth warming in the spring, the scent of rain coming from a distance; and of course, the smell of sheets dried in the wind and sunshine.

It’s always a magnificent fragrance, but in the wintertime, somehow it is even more amazing.

While most folks would rather use the dryer; which in my mind uses electricity and yucky fabric softener, I hang my wash as often as I can outdoors. When the weather doesn’t cooperate I hang it indoors on a rack. Yes, my clothes are stiff, but body heat softens them when you get dressed. The dryer actually wears the color out of clothes, especially black; one more good reason not to use the dryer.

When the air is cold, the smell from outdoors lingers for days in our bedroom and crawling into bed at night is such a blessing. Well, it's a blessing just to have a bed.

Laundry day was a huge chore in the olden days. In an interview with Theresa (Meier) Eissinger, from Napoleon, she talks about laundry and clothes.

"After the necessities were purchased came the clothes. Many an evening was spent around the kitchen table with the kerosene lamp in the middle, paging though the catalogs. There was Sears and Roebuck, Montgomery Ward and Spiegel to choose from. The size of the order depended on how much money there was left to spend. After much choosing and discarding, and choosing again, the order was placed from the catalog where they got the best deal.

"We always had two winter “outfits”; two pair of long johns (how I hated them); two pair of long woolen stockings; two flannel shirts, and two pair of bib overalls. We wore one “outfit” one week - all week.

"Those clothes then went into the laundry and we wore the other “outfit”. And woe unto us if we got our new shirt or overalls so dirty we had to take from the next week’s outfit. That threw everything out of kilter.

"We usually got new mittens, but the woolen stocking cap lasted forever and fit from the time we were two until we were 20. We wore hand-me-downs whenever possible, but occasionally we would be unlucky enough to need new shoes. I say unlucky because shoes were purchased at least two sizes too big so we could grow into them. So, we slopped around in new shoes and by the time they fit they looked pretty awful."

In our time of throw-away-purchases, laundry day and shopping for clothes takes on a whole new dimension. Now our closets are stuffed with options for costuming our selves daily. There are many young folks who may never have the privilege of drying sheets outdoors... so if I could only bottle that smell... how wonderful would that be?

Of course, maybe we can't imitate Mother Nature for a reason. Man was not meant to be indoors all the time - so get out and breathe in the fresh air of North Dakota... for those of you who are not here - maybe someday we can bottle that fresh winter feeling and send it to you.

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Garden gathering

2013-10-18T09:00:00.000-05:00

If you know gardeners, you know that there is never enough dirt to plant all the wonderful seeds available. In addition to my home garden, and now my hoop house, I have two community garden plots. As much trouble as I have had with theft the past two years, my spouse is asking me to give those up... and then what? Where will I plant my squash and potatoes and carrots and beets and turnips and cabbage.

And where would we be without cabbage? After losing more than a couple of heads of cabbage to theft one year, I investigated heirloom varieties and found what my sister-in-law fondly refers to as "Dr. Suess" cabbage.

Fildenkraut (from Annie's Heirloom Seeds website at http://www.anniesheirloomseeds.com) is this description: 90 day. This is a German heirloom developed for sauerkraut. It has a large pointed head. This point is coreless, making it very easy to cut fine shreds for sauerkraut. It is also very sweet, making for one of the best sauerkrauts I've tasted.

One - being German, I had to try it and two no one steals it because it doesn't ever look like it has a head. But being the farthest thing from the truth, Fildenkraut has huge and heavy heads and grows like a cold flame of crispy goodness. Even the tiny plants that I couldn't bear to throw away and planted them between the healthy ones grew up into substantial sized heads of cabbage. perfect for stirfry and perfect for cabbage rolls... and saurkraut.

It's funny how lacto-fermentation has become so popular as of late. In our house we have been fermenting and eating cabbage and pickles forever. It is said that the Germans ate those types of foods in opposition to the smoked meats and white flour dough foods of their food culture.

Making sauerkraut is fairly simple. Cabbage and salt... Ewiger Saatz - Everlasting Yeast has the old food culture recipes from the Germans from Russia... You can find the book on Amazon.com.

In the meantime, admire the Fildenkraut.

PS: if you have never tried homemade sauerkraut before, you don't know what you are missing. Winter is coming on and well... the best meals are roast and sauerkraut with knephla... that recipe is in the book also.

I Believe

2013-10-17T13:48:00.001-05:00

No, wait... I don't always believe...

It may seem like a simple thing to have confidence - but things change. As I grow older, I am struggling struggling struggling with confidence. Some of my relationships are not very confident building and so daily I struggle through getting up and going to my job and finding time to be everything to everybody. I admire all the young women around me who have so much opportunity and I think to myself, "my time has passed, you had your chance, and you didn't always do the right thing." I feel like growing old has become a confidence-sapping experience.

Some days it works. Some days I can claim God's promise to me and I tell myself, "You are okay. You have talents and you have faults. You have done good things and you have done bad things, but you can be forgiven."

God forgives as far as the east is from the west and when I hold on to that thought and start fresh every day I can claim the confidence of being God's child.

Sometimes that confidence lasts all days and then there are the other days. Days when I need to reach out and find something to hold onto. You know it never fails. If I open my Bible (which today is on my Kindle) I can find something wonderful to apply to my own life.

My friend, Lola, told me once (of course I asked her why I have my ups and downs) that one of the reasons we need to go to the well is to fill up daily (sometimes hourly) because we leak.

So here's to being a leaky human vessel desiring God's promise through Jesus Christ. Fill me up Lord.

Newbie

2013-10-14T07:13:00.002-05:00

No, I'm not new to Bible studies. I remember my first Bible study at a church in Fargo, ND. I must have been the youngest person there at that time. Over the years I have moved in and out of participating in my church where I have been a member for more than 25 years. I now work two jobs and have a few other commitments that really eat up my time each week. I signed up for a Bible study on heaven and then decided I couldn't make the 30-minute drive to and from the church to participate, but I feel the need, an enormous desire to find out what God has planned for me at this time in my life.

I took a new job recently... a big job and it frightens me. I feel like failure would be disastrous and yet there are folks out there that have complete faith in my abilities. Why don't I? Perhaps spending more time in God's word and with other Christan women will lead me to the answers I seek. You know fill that God-shaped hole in my heart.

So, I am going to try this online Bible study, I put all my other devotionals away and will concentrate only on this ... I am an early riser and find that the time spent in morning devotions sets my whole day on a proper path. So here I go... it's time for my CONFIDENT journey to begin.

2013-10-11T09:26:00.000-05:00

September’s harvest moon had the boldness to creep into our bedroom in the early morning hours, dodging soon-to-be-bare branches of cottonwood trees lining the yard. Beaming across the hand-stitched quilt at 4 a.m. through the large patio door that faces nearly west, the cool blue light summons me from sleep to wakefulness. It was that bright. We were mere days from the autumnal equinox; the only time of the year when the moon and large door leading to our small deck align like the stars in Orion’s belt.

This beautiful Harvest Moon was the fourth full moon of the summer season reaching its peak just three days before the autumnal equinox that occurred on September 22. The moon rises just a wee bit earlier every September evening providing additional light for harvest – an antiquated idea in light of the modern harvesting equipment moving in calculated alignment through expansive plantings of small grains, corn and soybeans blanketing nearly all of the state. Cabs, GPS, computers and remote controls make the Harvest Moon insignificant except for its incredible beauty.

Northern Plain’s farmers were perhaps fortunate in homesteading days that the Harvest Moon effect amplifies the further north you farm. Shorted on nice weather, there are things about North Dakota that make up for wild winters, like a wonderful lifestyle. We are fortunate for many reasons. And we will always exist this far north.

It’s not uncommon during harvest to pass a tractor, spray coupe, horse trailer, cattle truck or a swaggering load of bales on the Interstate that cuts a fairly straight path across the middle of the state. It connects North Dakota’s major cities lined up like obelisks exactly 100 miles apart. The Interstate has remained the same; the tractors, however, have grown larger and much reduced in numbers, over the past 30 years.

Harvest arrives at the end of an annual cycle. The end of a season means the beginning of a new one, completing a circle of life that, in my experience, rural families understand better than most folks. Perhaps it is because they pay attention to life cycles as critical components of their jobs. Or maybe it’s simply farmers have the opportunity to spend more time outdoors observing the moon wax and wane; as well as witnessing crops along side roads and highways go from seed to food annually. Generations of families, like crops, too replace generations as people move from birth to winter years of life. The cycle continues unending and as unfailing as our own eminent end.

I think often of my grandparents and how hard they had to work at feeding their families and making a living in this far-north land. I respect them, for without them - I would not be here today enjoying the sunrise.

New Blog

2013-10-05T09:35:00.000-05:00

I was trying to migrate this blog to a word press site when I discovered my name has been taken and registered... that's too bad, so I'm going to leave it here and hope you will all return to my kitchen for some fun. How about making some vegetable soup?
Here's a link to my YouTube video: Making Vegetable Soup with Sue.
It's soup weather today as we wait for our first storm... hope its a worthwhile one.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

2013-10-04T18:51:00.000-05:00

I'm back....

2013-10-04T06:01:00.002-05:00

It has been a long time since I blogged for myself rather than for the cookbook project. Can I keep up with both, maybe not, but I'm going to try... too many wonderful things growing around my house not to share... so watch for a weekly post about when the Kitchen Snitch shares some of her secrets to cooking, crocheting and life. Not to mention what she's teaching her grandchildren.

I have not gone far away

2012-09-06T10:40:00.000-05:00

Many of you have commented on where this blog went? Well, it's still here but as I mentioned before I have been very very busy with a project that you can find at www.dasguteessen.com. It is a project about food and farming and in the end I will know how my ancestors lived on the prairie - the photos I have found from folks are DELIGHTFUL to say the least. It is now time for me to hunker down and get the copy in place so we might print the final book by June of 2013. So send money to the Tri-County Tourism Alliance to support the project and say a little prayer for me...

Mennonite Girls Can Cook: Beet Leaf Rolls

2012-09-06T10:36:00.001-05:00

Mennonite Girls Can Cook: Beet Leaf Rolls: This recipe idea is from my sister in law. I'm thinking she does a much better job at this, she has made these rolls many, many times thro...

What a wonderful weekend for farmers

2012-01-31T12:19:00.002-06:00

Joel Salatin has left the state. Fortunately for this Shenadoah Valley, Va., farmer author he slipped in and out of North Dakota between an ice storm and our first substantial snow. Not that he hasn’t ever experienced snow, but we didn’t want any delayed flights or excuses for people not to attend this fabulous weekend.

Salatin visited our state for the first time as the keynote speaker at two events hosted by FARRMS – The Art of Eating and Sustainable U. We gathered at Mezzaluna and the Holiday Inn in Fargo for these two well attended and enthusiastically received opportunities to hear Salatin speak. Of course, Sustainable U included many of our local sustainable ag gurus also in six special breakout sessions on Saturday.

If you have never heard of Salatin, a quick Google search will bring you site after site filled with videos, movies and books that feature the work of this humble farmer. He told me he never expected to become famous farming, but he did and here’s why…

Polyface Farm has become a model of sustainable farming with an emphasis on beef, pork and chickens. There are four generations of Salatins on the farmstead purchased by Joel’s dad. Rather than follow conventional advice for what to do on a farm, the family began building up the soils and forest areas rather than depleting them under a plow.

Using technology and logic, Polyface has become the place for clean meat as well as a place of learning for young people wanting to get into farming debt-free. The website puts it this way, “Polyface, Inc. is a family owned, multi-generational, pasture-based, beyond organic, local-market farm and informational outreach in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.”

The operation is transparent and the products are marketed directly to the public. People are invited to visit the farm to see where their food actually comes from. And, if you want to be entertained, or learn some new words like "pigaerator," then you must take the time to listen to Salatin speak.

Producers, farmers, gardeners, seed savers, greenhouse builders, farmer market managers, extension employees, NDSU faculty and others from many facets of life attended our conference. We can say it was an international event because one couple came from Canada to spend some quality time with Salatin. The weekend zipped by way to fast, but that was because there’s only three part-staff with FARRMS and so we relied on many of our friends and some great new volunteers to assist in the details of the weekend. We made a mark on Fargo and people will be talking about this event for weeks to come.

If you missed it, there are opportunities to see some video footage of Salatin as well as an interview by Cindy Gomez-Schempp by visiting the High Plains Reader Website (http://hpr1.com/) or you can find links on both the FARRMS and High Plains Reader Facebook pages.

Photos and the Art of Eating video can be found at www.farrms.org.

Also, you can put Salatin’s eighth book called “Folks, This Ain't Normal: A Farmer's Advice for Happier Hens, Healthier People, and a Better World” on your Chistmas list. It’s available from Amazon.com and other booksellers.

So for this week’s small bite of local information, listen to one of Salatin’s compelling talks promoting the economic, health and social benefits of “knowing where your food comes from.” Next week, I’ll go back into time and tell you a little more about FARRMS before we move on to seasonal eating. As always, send me your questions or comments at sbalcom@farrms.org.

We left it for dead

2011-08-04T06:57:00.000-05:00

The bulb had bloomed in February and was magnificent. Three or more large amaryllis blooms in the dead of winter. It was a reminder of our will to survive. When we hurriedly moved out of our house in May under the impending flood that destroyed our property we had to make a few decisions to throw or leave some of our junk behind. Dealing with our pet - well, we were fortunate in as much as someone was able to take him home. The plants, well, they had to be divided between a few people and my new temporary office.
The bulb however, after blooming, became unruly and the pot kept tipping over from the weight of the long leaves. So I decided to leave it behind.
I put it in the raised bed on the west side of the house. I did not expect it to survive. If the water had risen as high as first expected, it may have floated away. But it didn't. It turned even more yellow and disappeared, melting into the soil like everything that has passed the four seasons of its life.
What vegetation survived the rise and fall of the water struggling to survive was eaten immediately by the wildlife in the area, save this bulb.
Imagine my surprise when I rounded the corner of the house on one of our visits and there it was. The old was gone and new growth was vigorous and green, untouched by the deer and racoons.
I rescued it and brought it home with me where it now resides on the patio table outside our new living space. With the rain and the warmth is has doubled in size already.
So you know, the bulb was a gift from Pastor Bob and Karen Nordvall. I hated to leave it behind. I hated to see it die... but in its death it has returned - on its own to a new green and healthy living thing. I am wondering is there's a lesson here and if it's the one I have to learn, or one of many I have to learn during this ordeal. I only know this for sure. There is a great deal of rejoicing in this seemingly simple act of rebirth. The blessing of the new is hope.
I do not have my well-worn Bible. We moved so fast we were unable to decide what we would need and of course we had no idea how long we would be out of our house. So here's the thought for the day. I do hope you have a blessed one.
Hebrews 11:1
[ Faith in Action ] Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.

Apparently it didn't work

2011-06-26T07:38:00.000-05:00

Buying an umbrella didn't work. It's raining this morning. I used to love the rain. Now I'm scared of it. As there is water everywhere in this state. A story in the paper this morning confirmed my worst fears... the trees will die a slow and painful death underneath the waters of the Missouri River. The shelterbelt behind our home protecting us from the north wind will be the first to go. I spend time underneath the boughs of those trees, protected and quiet. There is no sound like the sound of the wind through the spruce needles not mention the pheasants and mourning doves that survive our winters in the arms of those trees.
In my dreams I imagine our property without those trees, and it's heartbreaking. We will be exposed on the plains, protected only by the trees that perchance survive on higher ground to the north and west of us. I am so sad today, so very sad about the trees and keep thinking there will be a miracle, could there be a miracle and this water could go away tomorrow and my life could resume some sense of normalcy?
It's like a dream. A confusing dream between realty and our current life which continues around us - as it should.

I married a river rat

2011-06-25T11:44:00.000-05:00

I married a river rat. Growing up in the coteau region of the state, we had sloughs and we waded in them, but we did not have a river. We didn't canoe, kayak or boat. My grandfathers and uncles fished, but we just didn't go near the water. Oh, there's Salt Lake near Streeter; we used to go and drink beer there, but I have heard that body of water is huge these days and actually joined forces with another...
So, when I first moved to Mandan, then Bismarck, then Mandan, I did not go near the river. Nope, had better things to do I guess, I liked camping. We spent some time camping at the tail race near Garrison and at Little Yellowstone Park south of Valley City, but I didn't go near the river. I heard it was evil.
Then I met a river rat. There were lots of them, like a secret underground civilization, we spent the weekends, every single weekend on the river. We had a houseboat. Days were spent on the shore, around campfires, looking for rocks, fishing, just hanging around. Evenings were on the boat. Sleeping on the water was awesome. It was the river and me. The moon reflecting off a still shining ribbon making its way south. The boats were gone, the jet skies gone, it was quiet. It was heaven. And, now, we are living near the river, on an old river channel in fact. We couldn't launch our boat, we couldn't fish, but we enjoyed the big old cottonwood trees. I could hang my laundry out all year long, and I had a garden irrigated with river water from an old channel that Chuck Mork dug for his fields. I love that place, I loved the river. As an artist, I drew inspiration from the river, wove baskets out of cottonwood roots and made candles in the sand. But now, I'm kinda disappointed in the river... for taking over my small piece of property, my garden, my flocks of turkeys and pheasants. I want to go home. It's been about 27 days since we have been home - my tablecloth is getting larger every day. It's that I don't love having a host home. We are getting fed like queens and kings and feel very comfortable indeed. But, I want to go. I promise never to complain about my house being too small, or too old or having old furniture again.. And, I'm sure I will grow to love the river again, because you cannot deny the beauty. Square Butte is so green it looks like Ireland north of our house. One day at a time, we will get by.

Tablecloth pattern

2011-06-24T07:38:00.000-05:00

Here is the tablecloth pattern.

My flood project

2011-06-24T06:26:00.000-05:00

It's very difficult to blog when I don't have a garden or a kitchen; I don't know where my ice cream maker is or my new pressure canner which I will not be able to use this year at all.
So I went to Hobby Lobby and bought a crochet hook, because I don't know where those are either, and a large spool of Aunt Lydia's number ten thread. I wish I had bought a little bit higher quality thread because I started making Duncan Phyff motifs and all of a sudden I had a purpose. I'm doing one motif for every day I am out of my house. SO far, that's 24 motifs, plus one cause I work ahead some evenings. Here is a photo of the pieces so far. It's a lovely pattern and we have a large table... so I just might have an heirloom piece when I'm done. Or, I will auction it off because we are trying to save money for moving back into the house. WE are going to need some trees and some paint and some electrical and some furnace work and who knows what else, flooring and carpeting perhaps.
Which reminds me... we also have a large amount of artwork, beautiful photographs that we couldn't bear to store in a truck for fear they would be spoiled. If anyone needs artwork, they are all for sale and can be see by appointment until we figure out how to have our own art show.
Just call me at 527-5169. And then, since I won't be snitching on my kitchen I have yet one more project that I would ask you to support. We are creating a cookbook for the Ashely 125th celebration. It will be a coffee table book with recipes and the food culture of the Germans from Russia. I am working with a group of heritage tourism folks from Logan, McIntosh and Emmons counties and have developed new website and blog for that project. SO, I ask that you direct your attention to www.dasguteessen.wordpress.com to keep tabs on my work and the stories of others.
Don't be a stranger and Gute Essen... even if I haven't cooked for nearly a month.

Well, there's more

2011-06-17T14:43:00.001-05:00

Visit to our home, 2011 Flood 145,000 cfs
You know, I finally accepted the fact that my house is going to be livable again someday, but now I'm thinking what is the property going to look like? Is the grass going to die? Will my garden beds become warped and overgrown to the point we have to start over again? Will our trees die. If they do and the chances are pretty good, how we the birds survive. My turkeys and pheasants and mourning doves will no longer have shelter from the north wind. And neither will we.
So, just wanted to share the progress...

Hope

2011-06-11T07:26:00.000-05:00

In the old days when we had more time to play and less upkeep on our home, we used to play a Jay Leno or some late night talk show host game called "will it float?"
We would drop something in the river and take a guess as to whether or not it would float. And, no we weren't dropping in toxic chemicals or things that would float around forever like plastic bottles... although some folks do things like that and it's not very nice.
These days there are more than cans and bottles floating in the river, entire trees are going by the area, dead and alive. But as we were packing up the house, I decided to take a brown bottle, write a note and stick a cork in it. I put my phone number on the note as well as my email address and now I'm waiting for someone to find it. Will they? I do not know. Of course by posting this note, I may be in danger of being arrested by the corp for trashing the river, but oh well, the river trashed my house so I'd call it even.
I also added a rubber ducky to the river with a message on its bottom. Who knows what the current did to that. These days I'm just hoping and praying that my house doesn't make the news floating by Bismarck.
Today I feel rested, the sun is shining and I feel like I could do something. We are going to pursue the idea of finding a house to buy in the interim. It may or may not work, we really don't have the means to buy a second property, but we have to do something, so we are going to try. I'm getting spoiled having Mary and Ken take care of us. We are so very appreciative of the fact we have a place to rest and eat and have coffee... and we are in good health. I had some not so good news from a cousin of mine. It grieves me deeply to feel sorry for myself when I'm not losing a family member at a young age to cancer. It's a new day and I'm going for it -- Tomorrow is Pentecost Sunday and my friend Pat said they are using the altar cloth I made Pastor Bob some years ago when I was actively weaving.
It is red and gold and yellow and orange and has a white dove in the middle of it. I also made him a robe to wear - tie dyed or dip dyed or stained as many people have copied my dying technique in the past five or so years... As good hearted as he was, PB actually wore that robe in public once. Then he said, "It made me feel so hot, I just don't think I can wear it anymore." LOL. I love that guy. So here's my two thoughts of the day. Celebrate the Holy Spirit who intercedes for us in prayers when we don't know what to pray for. I'm sure that's a common theme these days of flooded homes and broken dreams. And, remember (Getting back to the original theme of this post) SOAP FLOATS.