Little Creek Life

40 Years

2013-02-22T16:30:00.003-05:00

“Most people spend the first half of their life focused on being successful, and the second half of life focused on significance. Often time people discover the priority of significance far too late in life.” - Super Steve

I was thirty-eight, an age I once never imagined myself yet now a memory, when I providentially welcomed these words into my life. Words of reflection for him, yet timeless and transformative for me connecting my present to my past and my past to my future. For it was my future he was speaking into as he reflected on his past. It was these words that penetrated my ears, entered my head and fell down into my heart.

Success and significance, two words, competitors or companions? Competitors when one accepts a narrow view of success: meaning, the gaining of wealth or fame, or a favorable outcome of present activities. Possible companions when one accepts a broader view of success: meaning, a positive outcome of a life lived in significance, full of meaning, balanced with important family, faith and friendships priorities.

There are years, and there are milestone years. Years that become markers in our lives that help us measure our successes, our significance, our hearts. This is one of those years. A milestone year that is sometimes the subject of office jokes and comments, as I crest the hill towards a destination of crises for some, a mid-life crisis. In 2013, our Blueberry Gal turns four and I meet forty. For me, this is a very likely halfway point of a presumed life lived to eighty. This is my point of reflection. A nostalgic look back to acknowledge the joys, fears and tears that have marked my life journey thus far. An optimistic look forward acknowledging the likely joys and challenges that await me as I continue this journey of life in a world with the hope redemption for those that choose faith. A world where success, significance and failures co-habitat, intertwine, compete with and sometimes support each other.

As I enter my latter half of life, significance must play a bigger role. Bigger is better when it comes to significance. Unfortunately for many, including myself, the narrow view of success too often precedes significance in our thinking about life. Significance always outlasts success and if I choose to prioritize significance, success will come. Come my eightieth may I look back at a life of significance, a life that faithfully intertwines priorities of faith, family, friends and career. Now that would be a successful life. Eternal success.

(High-Octane) Sledding!

2013-01-18T20:04:00.002-05:00

Not this year, or the last, but the year before, Mother Dear and I set out to enjoy a frosty day of sledding. There was snow on the ground, but mind you, it was a wet, sloppy snow - or it had been before the temperatures dropped. So when this wet, sloppy snow met low temperatures, all that pretty white becomes one smooth sheet of ice, with flecks of grass and dirt and gravel. Mostly ice.

There was a time in my life, years ago, where I believed that snow was good only for skiing. I did not appreciate its beauty or its silence, and I never had the opportunity to snowshoe, sled, cross country ski or even trudge through the drifts for a dazzling winter hike. Quite simply, I did not appreciate snow unless it was whizzing under my feet on skiis. Wet, sloppy snow - or even worse - gritty, icy sludge is terrible to ski down, and a crusted sheet of ice over compacted, wet snow takes all the fun out of skiing. Slipping and sliding down a hill instead of carving beautiful arches is frustrating - and hazardous. Slipping and sliding down a hill on a sled, though, that's a lot of fun. Well, and hazardous.

Here is some footage from our sledding. See what I mean?

Having trouble seeing the video? Check it out here: vimeo.com/littlecreeklife/icesledding.

The Family Picture

2012-12-02T19:32:00.000-05:00

After weeks of trying, we managed to take a family picture for our annual Christmas card.

Said picture was taken without a tripod and without a photographer. That's the way we roll. And sometimes it drives me insane. Well, the lack of a tripod drives me insane. The lack of photographer is what it is. It would be nice to have someone else frame the shots and ensure that the focus was correct... but then I would have had to change my purple dress and worn something else for the photo. You know, the purple dress that fit fine a few months ago and hit right above my knee? The one that is now barely stretches over my belly to hit the top of my leg - That Mountain Man and I laugh about but that I would not be caught dead in around anyone else. Yeah, that would not have worked with someone else there to take the photos.

Which means that I had to set up the camera to take timed photographs. Without a tripod, this always becomes a circus trick, and it always leaves me muttering and throwing my hands up in exasperation, "Why don't we own a tripod?!?" Yesterday, in addition to navigating props, I also had to navigate my ever-expanding belly. Mercy.

We took three rounds and found three or four that we liked. The focus is not as crisp as I would have liked, but I am declaring victory anyway. At least the three of us are in the photo, and it is up-to-date.

Merry Christmas to me.

On Remembering and Forgetting

2012-12-01T12:12:00.003-05:00

Since my quest in 2010 for a photographic memory (ie, I only remember things that are photographed), I have had no shortage of pictures. When I first started using my DSLR, I was taking at least 1000 photos a month. Super Steve claims that only Angelina Jolie has had more photos than my Blueberry Gal. Maybe so, but my little tow-head is so darn cute and my constant companion, so what can one expect? Click, click, click.

Then, this summer, my picture-taking came to an abrupt standstill. One week I was up and running about, pausing to capture as many moments as our busy days would allow, and then the next, I spent an entire week on the couch, feeling exhausted and a little nauseated.

"You must be pregnant," Mountain Man declared.

"Oh, I don't think so. It's probably just because I stopped drinking caffeine," I countered. Besides, most women do not feel sick until they are seven or eight weeks pregnant, and I could not have been farther along than four - only two weeks past conception.

But then the week became two weeks, so I took a pregnancy test. He was right. We celebrated for a day, and then prepared for what we knew lay ahead. You may remember my post about pregnancy and HG (hyperemesis graviderum). While I am one of the lucky ones, my milder case of HG is treatable with medications, rest and nutrition, but like anyone with HG, Mountain Man and I struggle under the weight of an illness that last day after day for months on end. The two weeks of extreme fatigue, nausea and vomiting became three weeks, then a month, then four months passed and five. And I did not take pictures. No loss, I would just as soon forget and would rather not have images to jog my memory.

There are some things, however, I do not want to forget. The days slowed down to a crawl, most spent resting. Most of the morning and most of the afternoon, Blueberry would climb in bed with me, sometimes playing quietly while I navigated my pregnant body. Sometimes I would feel up to playing with her. We set up a tray with markers, paper, letter stencils, activity books, puzzles and games. I would help her trace letters and spell words. Together we would put together her Curious George puzzles for the five hundredth time, and cheering when we finished them. When I could, we would snuggle together in a pile of pillows, and I would read to her. And read and read and read. When I could not, and she tired of playing on her own, she tuned in to her iPod and watched Sesame Street, Franny's Feet and Pinkie Dinkie Doo.

Everything else just stopped. No errands. No cleaning. No play dates. No trips to the playground or walks around the neighborhood. Just quiet.

It was hard. It was hard to be so sick for so long (Thank God I was less sick for less time!!!). It was hard on Mountain Man to pick up all my slack - running our household, taking care of me and managing Blueberry in the mornings, on his lunch break and all evening, all the while juggling his responsibilities at the office, and without me as his companion and confidant. It was hard on Blueberry to wake up each morning not knowing what to expect of her day, to navigate days on end without structure and routine, and often to go for days without playing with other children or seeing outside the walls of our house.

There are not pictures to show the way we grew together. No pictures to show how we learned each others limits and gently flexed to meet each others' needs. No pictures to capture the intense moments where only tears could wash away overwhelming sense of defeat or frustration. No pictures to capture the hilarity of life with a small child encouraged to use her imagination to fill the long days spent in quiet play. No pictures to capture the many who stopped in to make us lunch, vacuum the floor, play with Blueberry or sit on our couch and offer me words of cheer and comfort. No pictures to capture the thanksgiving that rose from our lips each day for the quiet and simple things that make life really worth living.

And I don't want to forget. There is so much beauty in those days that I want to keep in my heart and in my memory. These are the things I want to remember.

Snow!

2012-11-04T08:18:00.000-05:00

Just as woolly worm Lickety Split predicted, winter came early and with a bang this year. When the wind died down, Blueberry and I bundled up and played outside in the wet white until our gloves were soaked and our fingers frozen.

We sledded down the hill, played chase, giggled and threw snowballs, and constructed a snowman, complete with crazy hair.

Good morning, November!

2012-11-03T11:26:00.002-04:00

After a few dismal days of snow and wind and more snow, the sun burst through this morning with the promise of a warm, fall day.

Good morning!

Under Construction: A Swing Set

2012-07-09T01:17:00.000-04:00

We were given a swing set last year, a beautiful wooden one with a slide and two swings and a kids' sized picnic table. The slide was affixed to our porch. The picnic table hosts sandy tea parties and clover-spaghetti dinners made-from-scratch in the nearby sand "pot." Those swings were dropped, chains and all, into a five-gallon bucket and pushed into a dark corner of our dusty shed. I have big plans to spit-shine that shed into a respectable condition, and Mountain Man has big plans for a family-sized swing set. He took a week of vacation this past week in order to start its construction, and it is well underway. What are the chances that he will finish his "summer project" before I even begin mine?

Farm Notions and Other Such Nonsense

2012-06-21T07:05:00.000-04:00

If you were a literate fly on a wall and happened to buzz around the room for a while before landing on a computer and then another, you might have read an exchange like the one below this evening:

Farm notions
to he

So, here's my thoughts so far -
I like the idea of a goat dairy. Seems that [our goat friends] think having a cow to follow behind in a pasture rotation would help goats. I know that having chickens follow behind cows in a pasture rotation helps cows. And I like eating turkey. Hogs can eat the whey leftover from cheese-making, so that makes a well rounded farm with hogs available to help muck out the barn as well (Joel S's style). Pasture poultry is still in high demand - with demand far exceeding supply. I don't know about getting into meat chickens, but I like the idea of getting into pasture turkeys.

Re: Farm notions
to me

where do the monkeys and Zebra's we plan to get fit into this cycle? Maybe the monkeys just follow [Blueberry Gal] around in the house to clearn up after her. Do zebra's wash dishes? After all they never get ulcers.

Sleep, any way we can get it.

2012-06-20T22:54:00.000-04:00

So, I should probably explain where I have been and what we have been up to and why it has been so long since I have written our daily happenings and my musings. There are certainly things to be said about that, as I have my reasons, and I should like to say more about them. Perhaps I will. Right now, however, I'd like to just pick up where I left off, like old friends do.

Mountain Man and I were talking last night, as we are apt to do. He has words, and I have ears. It is a pleasing arrangement. He was telling me how much it meant to him to have our gal finish her dinner and ask, "Can I go to bed now?" The time was 6:25pm. We had her in pajamas, teeth brushed and books read by 7 o'clock, and she drifted off to sleep sometime before 7:30pm, with a team cuddle: Mommy, Daddy and Bear. He and I quietly left the room and mused how different our sleeping experience(s) has been the last three years of her sweet life. Anyone remember the Insomnia Months? Whew, good times.

Her sleeping settled into a nice routine until last spring and things went completely haywire for a week before normalizing to a steady 11 hour night and occasional mid-day nap. Yeah, about that nap. Girl's too busy. For a while, I tried every trick in the book, and even rewrote the book, a couple of times, to encourage the nap my obviously tired child needed, to no avail. After setting aside nap time and subsequently giving up on the futile notion, she would invariably fall asleep mid-stride somewhere around the house. And I, her bemused mother, would take her photo. Remember those days? Like the afternoon she fell asleep in her high chair while eating a snack while I prepped dinner?

Later in the year, we gave up on naps and moved bedtime up to 7pm, just after dinner, which has been the winning ticket.

Occasionally the Nap Attack still strikes, like this past week when she fell asleep on my bed (which I posted about on Fb):

And a few days later when she fell asleep on a chair:

Fine by me. If she is willing to sleep, I am willing to let her lie.

Summer Reading List

2012-06-20T22:01:00.001-04:00

I am on a quest. Not really, but my zeal for all things farm is beginning to surprise even me. I am on my second animal husbandry book, with two more arriving in the mail next week. We have visited a number of local farms, and I have designated Fridays as our Farm Day so as not to spend too many days driving hither and yon. If I actually start writing again, I will have to start with Farm Fridays. Stories of local farms and pictures of small children and animals - what's not to love? But this post is not about our summer activities. No. The title clearly states that it is about reading. I am reading about farming. I started out on chickens, then animal husbandry overview, and I will be continuing with chickens, permaculture and llamas, as time and interest allows.

She is reading through a ginormous box of books our friend Tim sent to her. (Thanks, Tim!) Her favorites: Fancy Nancy and The Berenstain Bears. She is an avid book listener. Thus we borrowed a book on Sacagawea from the local library so that she could write her own book report, just like Nancy, and I have been asked numerous times for puppies and kittens, "Please, Momma, please?" just like Brother and Sister Bear. Unlike Momma Bear, though, I tell her, "Not today," and encourage her to enjoy the wild rabbits living outside in the yard.

And he? He is a topical reader and recently selected this year's topic. In his own words, "I think it would be fun to read books about stress and anxiety." To which I replied, "Did you just say that it would be fun to read books about stress and anxiety?" Silence. Then snickers. Then laughter.

I am tracking my progress and reading list on Goodreads.com. His next book is Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers by Robert Sapolsky. Her books are from the I-Can-Read series. If any of our crazed notions peeks your interest, do read along with us.

When She Laughs

2012-04-22T21:10:00.001-04:00

My little Blueberry Gal's names mean "Life" and "Happiness," which I tell her is a wish that she will have a lifetime of happiness. Whatever our thoughts were when we gave her the handmedown name, she has come to embody happiness and brings immeasurable joy to our lives. She loves to laugh, and she loves to make others laugh. I captured her laugh on camera last August, and loved it so much that I had it enlarged and framed. Her rounded cheeks and sweet, baby neck rolls adorn the wall in our living room, and keep us smiling.

Not too long ago, on my grandmother's birthday, a heavy fog rolled in to our valley, shrouding a warm and sunny morning in a thick, damp cloud. The visibility was limited and the midday sun bounced through the cloud cover just enough to make everything glow white. I grabbed my camera and asked my laughing girl to let me take her picture. She smiled and laughed and hopped and giggled, while I pleaded with her, between giggles of my own, to please stay in one spot for one tiny second and smile. I had hoped to capture the entire magical scenery with her vibrant flowered dress popping out in the foreground, but had to resolve myself to setting her up and taking quick three steps backward while madly snap-snap-snapping my camera as she hopped toward me, turned her back to me or just fell down giggling on the grass. Nonetheless, this one is a keeper.

That's my girl.

Family Silhouette - Then and Now

2012-03-17T17:34:00.000-04:00

A few summers ago, I stumbled across an opportunity to take a family self-portrait capturing our silhouettes as the sun set behind us. I had owned my big-girl camera for only a few weeks and most everything I caught on camera those days was by accident. On this evening, I tried to take a photo of the cabins and their contrasting reds, greens and cedar shakes as the sun glint behind them. That did not work at all, but the black profile of the building gave me an idea.

Fast forward two years and ten thousand photos later. No, I am not exaggerating. It's amazing that the shutter button on my camera still works, don't you think?

On a walk, a few weeks ago, we crested the hill behind our house as the sun set behind the ridge, leaving our neighbor's three Bradford pear trees beautifully backlit. I did not have my camera with me, so I made a mental note to capture the fading sunlight another day.

That day finally came last week.

I love silhouettes. The are simple, and in their starkness, very dramatic.

Simply dramatic.

A Laughter Filled Life

2012-03-12T11:30:00.000-04:00

I have long marveled at how my Mountain Man can laugh at himself.

And it's not just the fact that he can laugh at himself, which is a marvel itself, but it is the way in which he laughs at himself. His laughter is light, carefree, almost joyous - not celebratory - but closer to the laughter of a little kid being tickled. It's the laughter of angels that Milan Kundera describes in his novel.

And it never made sense to me.

Why would anyone act or say foolishly, see the err in the ways, and break out in laughter, a laughter of lightness and release?

I asked the question of "Why?" for quite some time until about a year ago when it dawned on me that his was the better way. We made it our family resolution to laugh more, and seeing that he could find laughter in every circumstance, I began asking a different question, "How?"

This new line of questioning only got me as far as an appreciation for his gift. My efforts to transfer it to my own experiences resulted only in a dark snicker or an empty chuckle. My laughter only sounded like a feeble attempt to cover and hide what I really was feeling - embarrassment, frustration, confusion, or disgust.

Jump forward. You might recall my post on body image, "Wanting to Be Her" and my plans to sort through my struggles through counseling? If you missed that, bottom line, I signed up to sit on a couch and begin the process of facing down my demons one by one: Fear, Anger, and most recently Guilt and Shame. The experience has been incredible.

Let me take you there. But before I do - please give me a quick second while I go mop up the beans that have just boiled over on the stove.

I'm back. Thank you.

So, I had an awkward moment in which I spoke up and addressed a crowd, sharing my thoughts. And, well, the crowd response I received was not as expected. I am not sure exactly what I was expecting, but it was not the averted eyes and awkward silence that followed. So I thought about it. For days. And I found some insights.

I found in my days of thinking that I wrestled against something dark and deep and hidden. That something was that old feeling of guilt and shame. I found that the same old message floated up to me, like a message in bottle on my own deserted island. The message said I was unloved and unacceptable because my actions or words had disqualified me. Only, this time, as I reached down and picked up the bottle, I poured its poisonous contents out on the sand for the sun to inoculate it and the wind and waves to wash it away. I broke free from my old ways of burying it or even drinking it down, as I had done so many times before. In place of guilt and shame, there was space for humility and acceptance.

Humility and Acceptance. My heart is learning to humbly accept who I am, with all my bumblings - not in spite of them but WITH them. And my heart is learning to trust in the many others in my life who accept and love me just as I am today and just as I will be tomorrow, bumbling along.

And I sat here, typing this story to share with you, the beans boiled over for a second time. I jumped up and ran back to the stove, smiling on the way. As I mopped up the overflow for a second time, I laughed. Glancing at the knob and still laughing softly, I turned it down from high to low, just as I should have done the first time they boiled over. Then I froze and marveled at my laughter, and I found myself lifted and unburdened.

There it was: Laughter, filling up my life, bubbling over and running out.

A Different Christmas

2011-12-03T10:30:00.001-05:00

This Christmas, my thoughts are less "Let It Snow" and a little more "Away in a Manger." I'm not wishing away the snow, and I'm not bah-humbugging the heart-warming, holiday traditions, nor am I cynical about the child-like excitement that comes from exchanging gifts.

It's just that my thoughts have been obsessed with the story surrounding the birth Jesus. "The tinsel and the lights are nice" and fitting, even, because He came to be the Light of the world. He brought Hope for lives filled with Joy and Peace where before we were simply lost in darkness.

But His Light didn't look like glossy Christmas presents and twinkling lights on fresh cut evergreens. It looked radically different -The story of Jesus' birth is messy, dirty, smelly and downright risque.

A girl winds up pregnant. Her boyfriend decides to marry her but swears they aren't sleeping together. No one is okay with this, and they are subsequently shunned by their families and dropped by all their friends. They road trip in a beater car across country, and when they get to their destination, no one will let them through the door, much less give them the guest room or even let them sleep on the couch. The girl ends up having the baby in a garage, using the dog's bed for a cradle.

That's the kind of story that changes the world? It's crazy. It's over-the-top, you've-got-to-be-kidding-me, just plain crazy.

Here's another crazy thought: What if she had had an abortion?

On second thought, that isn't so crazy. Women - and girls just like her - have abortions every day. In fact, given the circumstances, she was crazy not to. For heavens sake, she got booted out of her house and even ended up having her kid in a barn, amidst animals who poop on the floor and pee in the hay. Nasty. It was not like she was a nobody, another teenage pregnancy statistic from the ghetto. She was not well-to-do, but her prospects had been pretty good. She had a lot going for her. And her pregnancy wreaked havoc on all that.

Yet, without that child, the world would be lost.

And that is the Christmas story.

So while I belabor whether to replace our sofas with hay bales and forego the garlands and twinkling lights, I want to ask you to join me in celebrating Christmas a little differently this year. Join me in standing alongside women and girls who are unexpectedly pregnant, who are scared about the scandal and scared about what having a baby will do for their plans and prospects. Organizations like the Hope Pregnancy Resource Center in our town and other similar centers across the country set out to provide a supportive environment for these women. They are creating choices for pregnant women, by providing resources and a supportive network and counseling them through their decision to parent, adopt or abort their baby.

As you check off your holiday list, consider giving one more gift - the gift of Hope, hope in an unknown future for an unexpected child.

Make a donation by clicking here to visit my fundeasy.com page.

To learn more about the mission and ministry of Hope PRC; visit www.friendsofchoosehope.org.

Pregnant? Scared? Struggling with a past abortion? Know someone who is? You are not alone in this. Write me at athalia(at)littlecreeklife.com or visit www.choosehope.org.

Taste Test: Frozen Pizza (Gluten Free)

2011-12-01T18:00:00.001-05:00

I found inspiration in the kitchen this past year when I stumbled upon America's Test Kitchen. As I typed "inspiration" my fingers trembled just a bit because the effect on me is closer to sheer giddiness. Here is why: I am a self-proclaimed Info-Junkie, who was raised by a ~~mad~~ mostly sane scientist (Hi, Mom!) and by a surgeon who promoted excellence in everything (aren't you glad to know that is a surgeon's motto?!). Thus, kitchen experiments that strive to exhaust all possibilities in order to achieve the best of the best is happy cooking at its very happiest.

In addition to inspired recipes, I was inspired to assembled a Taste Test one evening with Cousin Chad, Mountain Man and Blueberry, who all weighed in on three gluten-free pizzas offered in the super market's frozen section. Here are the results:

Amy's
Crust: thin, crisp - we liked this.
Sauce: overly sweet and bland of other seasonings. blech.
Cheese: smooth texture, bland; still okay overall.
Next time: adjust the (non-existent) seasonings - add nutmeg to highlight the creamy cheese, and fresh herbs to boost the sauce, especially oregano and basil, top with feta cheese and romano for tangy punch.

Against the Grain
Crust: crisp, sweet, taste of corn and rice, texture akin to phyllo dough, very high oil content.
Sauce: non-existent.
Cheese: Uhm, it appears as though the cheese was not noted.
Method: 400*F high rack, 12-15 minutes until brown on top.
Results: gooey in the middle, while the bottom and top cooked.
Next time: consider cooking different temp/rack/time.

Bella Monica
Crust: cornmeal overshadows everything.
Sauce: bland tomato paste
Cheese: good, tangy flavor, string consistency.
Next time: consider using as a base for a Tex-Mex meal - top with spicy ground beef, oregano, slice tomato, lettuce, sour, even pats of refried beans. We tried adding herbs and feta, but neither helped.

The gents proclaimed Amy's to be the winner, but I am really not sure that there was a winner. We are talking about frozen pizza after all. However, we had so much fun sampling and discussing and rating the pies that we might just do it again.

Spaghetti Squash Frittata

2011-10-02T17:49:00.000-04:00

I am coming close to a weekly meal plan, one that has eight (maybe nine?) meals on rotation. Boring. To shake things up a bit, I decided to cook spaghetti squash to serve instead of the durum pasta I usually cook for my sweet Blueberry Gal. It did not work out, and it was not because she did not like it. I over-baked the lovely squash and the strands became lumpy mush. Alas.

Even I, in my more-vegetables-for-children enthusiasm, knew it would not pass as thin spaghetti, no amount of lovely marinara sauce could hide it. I forsook the over-baked squash and boiled durum noodles and heated a can of cannelloni beans (for me). The over baked squash sat in the fridge, still in its rind, for a few days while I weighed my options.

A search turned up a spaghetti frittata. While the recipe called for leftover pasta noodles, my squash seemed a reasonable substitute. I gave it go, got nervous and tossed in two more eggs just to be sure, and watched the vegetable dish puff golden in the oven. Before this experiment, I would have considered a frittata to be a potato dish. Once again, thank you, Karina Allrich for expanding the scope of ingredients and techniques in my kitchen.

Below are the ingredients I used. This was a two bowl, one skillet, fork and spatula production. In this recipe I use a 12 inch cast iron skillet with deep sides. I am crazy about cooking with this skillet, so long as I do not have to pick it up.

Ingredients
1 medium spaghetti squash, baked and scooped from rind
4 oz chevre (soft goat cheese)
2 pieces thick-cut bacon, diced
1 small onion, chopped
1 large portobello mushrooms, chopped
1 red corno di toro pepper, seeded and chopped (or sweet bell pepper)
8 sun-dried tomatoes, reconstituted and chopped
2 sprigs fresh basil, torn
7 eggs (divided, 5 + 2 eggs)
3/4 plain greek yogurt (divided, 1/2 + 1/4 cup)

Directions

Preheat oven 350 degrees.
Heat cast iron skillet over medium high heat.
Cook the chopped bacon in the skillet until it begins to release its fat.
Add onion and mushroom, cooking until just limp.
Toss in red pepper and reconstituted sun dried tomatoes and basil. Remove vegetables from skillet and set aside.
Strain spaghetti squash of excess water (press through sieve or colander or just squeeze between hands).
Whisk 2 eggs and 1/4 cup greek yogurt until well-incorporated. Mix into squash to coat evenly.
Spread the squash mixture into the warm cast-iron skillet, pressing against sides and bottom to create a "crust."
Dust with salt and black pepper.
Drop soft the chevre in soft clumps, creating a cheese layer on top of the squash.
Spread vegetables evenly over the cheese.
Whisk remaining 5 eggs and 1/2 cup greek yogurt briskly and pour on top.
Grab a nearby utensil (I think I used a fork and then my flat spatula when I misplaced my fork) and shuffle everything just a bit, making sure the egg mixture thoroughly seeps in everywhere.
Dust with a little more salt and black pepper.
Call your neighbors for help lifting the skillet into the oven.
Cook for 30 minutes (mountain altitude) until puffed and golden and lovely.

Tips:

You can double check doneness with a little pat on top: it should be springy and feel solid. If the top is browning but the pat test yields a soft (not done) center, cover with foil and cook another oh-so-many minutes.
I followed Karina's advice to let the frittata cool for ten minutes before slicing. Honestly, any recipe that calls for cool time is a blessed thing. I sliced and peeled pears for a sweet and crunchy compliment to the delicate frittata.

Enjoy!

Little Creek Risotto

2011-09-30T21:21:00.001-04:00

Normally, I would add cooking notes after the ingredients and the cooking directions, but I feel differently about risotto. If you have not cooked it before (or have not cooked it in a long time), let's all make sure we know what we are getting into before this party gets started.

Notes
I have heard it say that risotto is a "house dish" and reflects the individual flavors of the chef making it. If ever a risotto suited this little mountain family, it is this one.

This dish is about commitment. Making risotto requires a slow-cooking process in which the rice releases its starch and creates a creamy dish. In our cabin, this comfort food is a speciality that is cooked only when I have the luxury of an uninterrupted hour and the patience to stand in front of the stove for that stretch of time. Rare indeed.

A little tongue in cheek, I would compare cooking risotto to making a pie crust: the ingredients are simple and straight-forward, but the technique and timing takes a bit of know-how. This article explains the how-to basics of risotto making. My style is a lazy one. No simmering pots or ladles or sautéing and removing and replacing. This is a one pot, mason jar, big spoon approach, and whatever goes in the pot, stays in the pot. Secondly, I am in the no-cream camp. That is cheating, not simplifying, not short-cutting, but cheating. One should not cheat oneself out of the natural creaminess of a risotto well done. Amen.

Ingredients
2 Tbsp bacon grease (or butter or oil, if you must)
1 cup short grain rice, such as arborio
1 large carrot, diced (1/2 cup)
1 celery stalk, diced (1/2 cup)
1 med onion (1/2 cup)
1 quart low-sodium broth or stock
2 cups water

4 oz mushrooms, chopped
2 Tbsp fresh herbs, minced (sage, thyme)

1 cup cooked dark-meat turkey, chopped
1 cup sweet green peas

Directions

Heat bacon grease in a large skillet over medium-high heat.
Toss the carrot, celery, onion in hot grease and braise 2 minutes until the onions are slightly translucent.
Add the rice and stir.
Just before the rice begins to stick, add a cup of stock and stir. Allow the rice to soak in most the stock, stirring in an uncovered pan.
When the rice has mostly absorbed the stock, add another half cup of stock and stir. Repeat until the rice is al dente (about 30 min cook time and just under a quart of stock for me).
Salt and pepper to taste.
Add fresh herbs, mushrooms and a half cup of stock (or water), cook for 5-10 minutes.
Add the turkey and the peas, and toss to heat through.
Add just a bit more stock (or water), cover and remove from heat. Let stand 10-15 minutes.
Scoop into bowls - or ramekins for the individual "pot" experience.
Serve with sliced pears on the side.
Beam from ear to ear.

Instead of Chicken Pot Pie.

2011-09-20T00:45:00.003-04:00

We love chicken pot pie.

It is a favorite family dish, right up there with pizza, pot roast and egg sandwiches. Except that pot roast and egg sandwiches do not really count, since only two out three of us like them. At least we all agree on pizza. And pot pie.

I like it because it's pretty and somehow comforting and decadent in the same mouthful. The colors of the bright carrots and peas with the dark splotches of mushrooms are gems against the backdrop of neutrals - the dark meat, celery and onions. And I have come to appreciate the comfort of gravy. Pot pie goes beyond pretty and comforting: the flaky, buttery, soft crunch that melting in one's mouth is just bliss.

Enter the gluten-free version of my life. Exit the buttery crust and gravy.

I missed chicken pot pie, so much so that I adjusted the classic recipe several times, attempting to recreate the goodness without the gluten. The results varied from okay to not okay. Once, I used a brown-rice flour and potato starch to create a gravy, and boiled and mashed potatoes for a shepherd's pie meets the chicken pot pie. It was good. Not "wow" good, but it was good. Later, I followed directions on the bag of a gluten-free baking mix to create a gluten-free pastry crust. Disastrous. The baking mix contained beans and tasted like unsalted split-pea soup. I tried not to cry. Mountain Man bravely ate a second serving and declared it tasty. I swore off gluten-free baking mixes that contain bean flours and stepped away from the chicken pot pie.

Until yesterday, when a ziplock bag of chopped turkey meat in my refrigerator asked me to please make it into a pot pie. I brushed off the request because I did not want to fool with a gluten-free crust, and I was saving the potatoes in the pantry for another dish. No crust for "pot pie," no potatoes for turkey "shepherd's pie." No, I'm sorry chopped turkey, no pot pie for you.

This morning, though, when I opened the pantry door, a jar of arborio rice shuffled to the front, cleared it's throat and stared at me until I changed my mind. "Yes, you're right," I told her, "It just might work!" I would make risotto. A chicken-pot-pie-flavored risotto.

Folks, this is about to get good. Really good.

I started with the medley pictured below: diced carrots, chopped onions and celery stalks, arborio rice, low-sodium stock, and a little something special: bacon grease.

When the onions were translucent, I added the rice and sauteed it with the vegetables. Just before the rice started sticking to the pan, I poured in a cup of stock. (This is where I remembered my seasonings and grabbed a pepper grinder to add as much black pepper as I could before the steam hit it.) For the next thirty minutes, I cooked the rice and vegetables on medium-high heat, adding broth a little at a time, letting it slowly absorb. In between stirs, I prepped the other ingredients: chopped the turkey, thawed sweet green peas, and collected and prepared the herbs... for our tastes, I selected thyme and sage.

After thirty minutes, the rice was tender but not yet thick and gravy-like. I added the herbs and mushrooms and cooked it for another five minutes, stirring it to keep it from sticking. When the rice was thick, I added the turkey and the peas and a little more stock and folded them in gently. I turned off the heat, covered the pan and let rest for ten minutes, while I set the table and such. Then I served her up and smiled.

I have found nothing that replaces donuts or pie crusts, but when it comes to chicken pot pie, I have found a worthy stand-in.

Click here for the Little Creek Risotto recipe.

"When I say, 'Goose!'"

2011-09-17T13:47:00.002-04:00

The youngest Neighborhood Boy tried all summer to teach her to play "Duck, duck, goose." The three of us would sit in a circle in the grass, sometimes joined by an older brother, and try to make a sensible game of tapping each other lightly on the head and chasing each other around in circles. What most often ensued was Buddy and I would take turns being "It" while Blueberry would sit and watch and intermittently jump up and run off for a spontaneous game of chase.

Good times.

After dinner last night, we sat on the floor around the coffee table and colored together, until she launched a game of "Duck, duck, goose!"

It went something like this....

And the Winner Is....

2011-09-08T23:58:00.000-04:00

Claim Your Prize!

Lauraand Amanda - please contact me at athalia(at)littlecreeklife.com about getting these little guys from my kitchen to yours.
Becky - I'll hand yours over as soon as I see ya!
Miss Vicky - I have your address and will send them directly.

I hope everyone else had a great lunch. Someday, my bento obsession will mellow, and I will spend less time taking pictures of lunch boxes and more time taking pictures of tractors and mountain apples. Until then, thank you for playing along!

Mac-n-Cheese Cups

2011-09-07T19:30:00.000-04:00

This spring, following tips from Teesa, I started cooking "sneaky" meals to ensure that my Blueberry Gal was eating her veggies. I learned how to add pureed broccoli, spinach, cauliflower, pumpkin, beets and carrots to some her favorite dishes, like spaghetti with meat sauce or lasagna or macaroni and cheese. I experimented with some new recipes and introduced her to chocolate chip "cookies" made from sweet potato and quinoa flakes.

I know one day she will eat the cornucopia of vegetables that Mountain Man and I love, but right now the texture of (most) vegetables overwhelms her. I have learned the Take 3 rule for introducing new recipes and foods. The first time I serve it, she will have nothing to do with it. The second time, she is curious and asks to try it but typically claims not like it. The third time is telling: if she eats it, then I have gained another dish, if she refuses, I mark it off the list, knowing that the time has not yet come. As her palate slowly expands, I balance introducing new foods in their natural form with disguising the new textures in foods she knows and loves.

I used the last box of semolina macaroni in our pantry to make macaroni cups. These nifty lunchables are from the Sneaky Chef; view the recipe here. Here's my mega-batch version, which uses two cups of frozen pumpkin, thawed from last year's harvest.

Ingredients
5 cups cooked macaroni elbows
2 cups cooked pumpkin puree
10 eggs
1/2 lb white cheddar
1/2 lb low-fat mozzarella
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp black pepper

Directions
Cook the macaroni.
Pulse the pumpkin puree in a blender until very smooth.
Grate the cheese.
Whisk the eggs and seasoning.
Combine pumpkin puree, 2 1/2 cups grated cheese, eggs and macaroni (be sure mac has cooled to room temp before adding cheese and eggs.)
Spoon into lined muffin tins* (I love silicon baking cups for this).
Sprinkle with remaining cheese on top.
Bake 20 minutes until lightly brown and bubbly.
Serve OR Freeze.

Makes 24-30 macaroni cups.
*regular size

Notes
Size: Use regular size muffin tins for a medium portion. Jumbo would yield a large adult serving, while minis might be a good size for mini appetites, but I have not tried these, so I cannot speak for the cooking times or textures they might yield.
Lower the Fat: Do use a low-fat cheese, like the original recipe calls for, and consider stirring the pumpkin into the hot macaroni to keep it from sticking instead of slipping in butter or oil. Doing so will improve the texture; otherwise the cups turn out kinda greasy. Ask me how I know.
Nutmeg: I tend to push the limits on this spice and take it as far as I can, while still keeping it in the background, flavor-wise. I used freshly grated, so 1/4 tsp is an estimate.
Black pepper: See "Nutmeg."
Salt: The block of white cheddar I used was particularly salty, so I was careful not to add too much salt to this batch. Normally, when it comes to macaroni and cheese, I add the amount of salt I think I should, then I add a pinch or two more.
Freezing: Let these cool in the silicon cups, then pop them out, lay them out on a baking sheet and place them in the freezer. If using paper cups, do not remove the macaroni from the cups until serving. Freeze them intact. Wait several hours (or until one opens one's freezer door and remembers them) and toss the single servings into a bag. This ensure that the entire batch does not freeze into a single mass.

These look and smell really good, and my mountain family says they're tasty!

Bento Gear for Happy Lunches.

2011-09-02T15:04:00.001-04:00

This is another one of my installment plans. If you missed the previous posts...I'm on a menu planning quest and am expressing myself in the kitchen with Bentos, and all of this made me very nostalgic. If you're just joining in the fun, welcome! You can catch up (just click on the links embedded above) or dive right in below. If you have been with me for the long haul, Wow, what a long and crazy trip it's been. I got love, nothing but love for you. Just to show you know how much ya'll mean to me, I made you a spreadsheet and bought you a present. See below. xox, athalia jane

Bento Box and Collectibles

Lunch Supplies:
I have been product-testing bento lunch gear for creating Blueberry Gal's daily bentos. Clipboard, lab coat, mechanical pencil, it's all very scientific. I compiled the list of our favorites pieces (and a few things I would still like to try out) using Amazon.com's wishlist feature. Check it out: Lunch Box on amazon.com. Below is the rundown of my favorite Bento gear, or you can view the spreadsheet here.

The Box:
Aunt Shelba gave us a set of Lock-n-Lock containers as a wedding gift. Bless her. Four years later, they still rock my world. We had two casualties, a clip broke off one lid when opened directly from the freezer (now I wait 3-5 minutes before opening), and another lid is slightly dome-shaped, from putting something straight from the oven into the box and clamping the lid on tight. Lessons learned. For Blueberry Gal's lunch, the Lock-n-Lock 16 oz rectangular short box is the perfect size, and she can open and close the top by herself.

For building bentos, any container with a tight fitting lid will work. The best results come from shallow boxes and leak-proof tops. It is important to appropriately size the box to appetite, so that it can be filled to brim with food (less shifting, no mess). I am a huge fan of Lock-n-Locks, and the best place I've found to buy them is Loc-nLockplace.com. They offer a full inventory and the best prices. Try the coupon code "Repeat5" to cover shipping costs?

The Dividers
Our Lock-n-Lock box came with two inserts, but I also bought Wilcon heart-shaped, silicon baking cups, and sometimes I use foil cupcake liners. Inserts function best when they reach the top of the box so that the lid rests on them but still closes properly. I am pleased with silicon baking cups, both for packing bentos and for baking. They are a win/win. Michael's carries a good selection (use that weekly 40% off coupon!).

The Place Setting
We use cloth napkins. I have not used paper since the nineties. For her lunch kit, I took two 'picnic' napkins from my stash and cut them into fourths. The ones I picked are absorbent, soft to touch and brightly pattered to hide stains. The smaller version fits better inside her lunch tin, and she did not need the bulk of full size napkin anyway. I think that cutting an old jersey tee or tie-dyeing infant washcloths would also make great kid napkins. For flatware, my Blueberry Gal uses a coffee spoon and salad fork from Ikea's Dragon collection. These come in a pack of six (either forks or spoons). I love that these are "real" and not plastic. Plus, they are well-proportioned for small mouths. They affordable and not heirloom pieces, so I do not fret about losing them.

The Lunch Tin

I found a small, retro-style lunch tin at TJ Maxx for five dollars. That noise you just heard was me shouting, "Wooo-hooo!" The tin (7.75" x 6" x 2.75") fits the LocknLock, a juice box and napkin and utensils. It is a snug fit, so things do not shift much. Things I love about it - Blueberry can open and close it herself, easily; it is very lightweight, washable and durable. It is not plastic. It also coordinates with her little pink backpack, and that kinda makes me happy.

The Collectibles
I have found a few Bento-related collectibles that make packing lunch - and eating it - extra fun. In our bento photos, you will see Maruki animal forks in a rainbow of colors, eggs in the shape of a fish or a car (created with Kotobuki egg molds), and food cut into shapes using a number of cookie cutters (yardsales, flea markets, gifts). I have found a lot of loot on Amazon.com (see my Lunch Wishlist).

Between you and me, when it comes to shopping, I really do not get out much. Blueberry Gal often refers to the delivery drivers as "the trucks that bring her presents." If you ever need a personal online shopper, I'm your girl.

The Giveaway
I want to share the love! Every kitchen should have a set of Kotobuki egg molds. It is one of life's simple pleasures to press a hard boiled egg into the shape of a car and drive it around on your plate before eating it. For a Kotobuki Fish and Car, just let me know (in the comments below or on the Little Creek facebook page) what you had for lunch!

Open through Thursday, Sept 8th, midnight EST.
Read the fine print on Contests if you haven't already.
10 prizes available, so don't be shy!

This is not a sponsored advertisement:

I really wish I could say that I am getting paid for this. I'm not.

These are just the things we use and like.
I'm super grateful for you!

xox, athalia jane

Annual Picnic at Grandfather Mountain

2011-09-01T21:52:00.001-04:00

Here's the deal: I share the pictures, you supply the captions. If you accept the terms, you may proceed and view this post. If you do not accept the conditions, you're going to miss out on some good laughs. No cheating.

Here we go!

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit C

I can't wait from you!
xox,
athalia jane

Hello, Bento.

2011-09-01T12:59:00.000-04:00

Today's bento box!

In the Box:
Rolled deli meat (ham, turkey)
Grapes
Green bean chips
Grilled cheese (Udi's Millet Bread with Provolone)
Carrot medallions
Peanut butter cookie (GF)

Bento supplies:
Lock-n-Lock, 16 oz rectangle
Wilton silicon baking cups
Maruki animal forks

Verdict: She ate everything in the box!

Coming soon:
- Favorite Bento supplies and where to get them.
- Tips for packing a box.

I'm a big fan of Wendi Copley's site of inspirational boxes and packing tips!

Bento Lunch - My First (of Many).

2011-09-01T00:11:00.002-04:00

Obentos

It NEVER occurred to me that packing a lunch for school could be anything other than boxed raisins, sliced apples and a sandwich. Perhaps now it is obvious why stylized boxed lunches caught me by surprise. Packing lunch has never been so much fun! Ever. In fact, the fun of creating the boxed lunch takes most away the anxiety and disappointment that comes with an 'unadventurous' eater who may or may not eat what is served.

Object Lesson

The second day of packing bentos, she could hardly wait for lunch. I packed it as fast as I could, then begged her not to open it until I retrieved my camera. Ladies and Gents, I present to you my Blueberry Gal and her bento lunch:

The cheesy music: Sorry. I tried a bazillion different ways to make it go away. Well, maybe it was more like five attempts. Then I got over it. Yeah, since I'm obviously so over it. Stupid music.

(Highly Scientific)
Observations

"Oh, good! It worked!"
A box she can open: I {heart} Lock-and-Locks!
Macaroni with cheese (sans veggies).
Food in a cone.
Fun colors.
A napkin.

"Better luck next time."
Carrot "chips." An absolute thumbs down; she likes her carrots raw.
Sprinkles on peaches. It's plain messy: the sugar melts and the colors run. Gross.
Carrots and peas with macaroni. "Get them out, Mommy!"
Raisins. She always tries one, then moves on. I'm moving on, too.
Triscuit crackers. A little nibble and she's done.
Peaches. Tricky to pick up with a fork; too messy to eat by hand (for her).

Coming soon: Bento Supplies List!