I say Torte, He says Tor-Tay

Here is another zinger illustrating the difference in dialect west of the Mississippi River and east of the Rockies.  Torte in Michigan, it's pronounced: 'Tort', Brady says: 'tor-TAY'.  It is defined as a layered cake primarily made with eggs, sugar and ground nuts-thank you, Wikipedia because I know how you are such a reliable and always accurate source...

My husband has said on several occasions has expressed, out loud, that he would give very vital, very specific body parts to partake in the consumption of a very specific torte (say it with me, 'TORT').  It is a family recipe, again from my mother-in-law (who you will remember, is a very good cook, and the reason I married my husband =) ).  Rhubarb Torte.  This torte has no nuts, it is made with flour and there are really only 2 layers, a crust and a topping.  But who am I to argue what truly constitues a 'torte'.  And if I were to argue that it is not technically a torte, then my husband bursts in to 'tor-tay' (spelled, t-o-r-t-e, of couse) must be different.

So anyway, this torte requires rhubarb, obviously, which I vaguely remember hearing about back in Michigan, but I don't think it ever graced my lips.  A friend of mine grows it, she grows LOTS of it.  So she was nice enough to share about 15# of her bumper crop with my mother-in-law last weekend, and then some more with me yesterday.   She sent me a picture of her patch, because if I saw rhubarb growing in the wild, or in someone else's garden, I would never know what it was.  I didn't know what a thistle was before I moved out here, for crying out loud!!!



This is the rhubarb patch AFTER it was thinned out





This is how big the leaves are...HUGE leaves, green and red/hot pink stalk.  You don't want to eat the leaves...

Brady's mom was willing to give up this recipe quickly (I think she knows just how much he enjoys it, anything for her baby!  =) I can completely sympathize.  Honestly.)  I trimmed and rinsed it Thursday night and plan to make a batch of Tor-Tay this morning...If I get to it. 

These two clowns and a whole gaggle are comin' to town to hang out for the weekend, so we shall see.  These two are the definition of City Girl-although they did get their hair washed at 'the Walmarts' once when they were camping...

Beware Central Iowa!

Boots, Shoes and Jerusalem Cruisers...

I have learned that footwear is very important around the farm.  Not because there could be rusty nails, rocks, steaming piles of dung and other undesirable objects on the ground, but also because there are mice.  My biggest fear with mice is them crawling up the leg of my pants...NO THANK YOU!  HeeeBeeee JeeeeBeeee's!

When I first started going to the farm, I wore a cute little pink and brown pair of Nike casual shoes that were a little too worn out to wear out of the house.  Then, after the first lambing season, which was where it dawned on me that the sheep were not the only residents in the nursery, I graduated to my old Doc Martin's.  These were the bulky ones I had in High School and I have NO idea how they made it through 3 moves in Iowa without getting tossed, but they did.

While I was able to tuck my pant legs in to these boots, and tie them, something still was not right.  At the time, I was working for Meredith Corporation (Living the Country Life-check it out @ http://www.livingthecountrylife.com/) and I was chasing a hot lead on a company call Norcross Safety Products.  They make a number of things (and were purchased by Honeywell just over 2 years ago), I was most interested in their footwear brands which include: Muck Boots, Ranger Brand, and Northerner, among others.

Local News Cut-In:  I'm listening to Pandora Radio, and Huey Lewis says, "It's hip to be square".  The older I get the more I truly believe this statement.

Now back to the post.

So I was working at Meredith Corporation and in hot pursuit of the boot people and I think the gal took sympathy on me and finally threw me a bone and said, "Why don't I send you a pair of our new Ranger Rubber Boots". And here they are:

Cute, huh?

And they're 'hound's tooth' ta-boot (no pun intended, really).

My husband wears these:

They're men's Uggs, circa 1997.  This is why he does not have a leg to stand on when I wear my Uggs.  Even a macho man farm boy LOVES his Uggs.  Too bad they don't make them anymore.  He got them at AKSARBEN (its a livestock show they used to attend in Nebraska). If you're real quick, you see Aksarben is Nebraska spelled backwards, if not, this is my gift to you for the day.  You now know what Aksarben is.  (Sidenote: Yes, I am ending a sentence with a preposition, sue me, it's my blog).  Those farm folk, they are a creative bunch! =)

This is what my father-in-law (Flash, that's the nickname I gave him. I'll never tell you why, but it's a term of endearment and quite frankly, I think it is hilarious and entertaining) wore on this day.  Most days, he wears his worn out dress shoes from Johnston Murphy.  Which is also a good look for him.  I can promise you he will be the topic of many 'o sheepin' blogs to come.

This is what my brother wears when he farms, huh! He's got 'City Boy' written all over him with those Doc Martins!

This is what I'm wearing today, I'm posting them because I got a great deal at TJ Maxx on them.  They are Borne's, so they are super comfortable, they have a bit of a heal, to assist in making those calves look slimmer and the legs longer and they're very versatile.

My new sandals, or as I like to call them, Jerusalem Cruisers

SOMEbody needs a pedicure!

In case you're wondering what the Guyface does while I'm blogging, usually he sucks his fingers or bounces around in the 'JumpJump'.  Today he was texting his Grandma Jan.  And he was only texting her to irritate his Grandpa because his Grandpa refuses to update his dinosaur phone plan to include texting.  He sent lots of texts, each one costing $1.00.  You're welcome Grandpa!

Look at that face, so innocent.

'That toy phone you got for me is for the birds mama!  I want the Blackberry!"

You have not lived until you've had these...

Hamballs! I thought they sounded sick too, until the first time they touched my lips.  I was changed forever.  I decided to marry my husband because his mother is an excellent cook (and maybe because he's handsome, loving, kind, funny, generous, mostly patient, mostly. And because he does an excellent job holding down the loveseat in our living room...ok, maybe not that last part, but I do like to tease him!  Love you BJS!). 

It was not until over a year after we were married that she (my mother-in-law, and I say that with the utmost love and respect, this woman is amazing, really) forked over the recipe...I begged and begged for this, and I DO NOT beg. I think she thought she'd have a better chance seeing her son if she held on to that recipe, knowing we had to come over if I was going to get my hamball fix. Actually, if you know her, this is completely untrue, she doesn't have a mean or self-serving bone in her body.  I'm not sure I know anyone more selfless than she is...that is self-less, not selfish, meaning she would do anything for anyone at anytime, no matter how inconvenient it may be for her.  She later told me, after she realized just how serious the situation was, that she simply forgot and didn't realize how dire a need it really was.

There are a number of ingredients I do not like by themselves in 'hamballs', but together, they perform a Riverdance in your mouth and you will never be the same.  I have yet to meet a person who does not like this recipe.  If you are out there-I don't care to know about you...because you're lying, you simply must be. Please and thank you.

Here goes...

First, you must have the correct apron (this is what real semi-country wives do).  Mine, in all it's glory, was a Christmas gift from my loving brothers a few years back...They think they are hilarious.  The girls can't read well enough to know what it says...yet.   Until that day, I will wear it proudly.  I love my brothers.  They think I'm awnry (out here they say AWN-ree, in Michigan, we say OR-NA-ree, three syllables. Out here, they are wrong.) but they will both have soft spots in my heart (well until Peep starts talking anyway).

Next, you need the ingredients:

Now you divide in to two separate steps, the hamball and the sauce.  Please note, you do NOT want to pass-up this sauce.  Brady puts it on top of the cottage cheese that tops his homemade mashed potatoes-what? Like putting cottage cheese directly on top of your mashed potatoes is weird?  You're weird!  You probably don't eat BBQ chips with 4% fat cottage cheese as 'dip' either, do you?  Hmmm...

First is the meat: ground beef and 'hamloaf' from Fareway. I like to think of 'hamloaf' as mystery meat, it may not be much on it's own, but it is essential to making the hamball correctly.

Then you add the chopped onions (and this is where most people would add garlic, but we're not even going to discuss what garlic does to my stomach. All you need to know is that I DO NOT include it in my hamballs, for my own and my family's safety)

You add some spices and some liquid smoke (please note:  I HATE liquid smoke, when I was pregnant, the mere smell of smoke flavor was enough to make me vomit).  I still don't like liquid smoke, but again, many things I don't like, create something I LOVE.

Then you mush it all together (after you take off any rings of course-it's frowned upon to have mystery mean smooshed in your wedding rings.  And after a while, quite frankly, it starts to smell.)

After the meat is all prepared, it is time to concoct the magical sauce that dances in your mouth.  This sauce is highly coveted around these parts.  But it's only true hamball sauce (and can only be spread on cottage cheese on top of mashed potatoes) if it has been cooked in/with the hamballs, otherwise, it's devoid of it's true flavor.  Trust me on this one.

So you mix all the sauce ingredients, generously pour this sauce over the hamballs and bake @ 350 in a pre-heated oven for 1 hour.  I usually make 3-4 trays and freeze a couple for those nights that you have nothing planned and everybody is hungry.  Then all you have to do is heat them in the oven.

Ham Balls:

3# prepared ham loaf
1# ground beef
1.5 c fine cracker crumbs (I use graham crackers)
2 eggs
2 T onion
1/2 c milk
1/2 c liquid smoke

Sauce Mix
2 cans tomato soup
2 c brown sugar
1/4 c vinegar
2 tsp mustard

Mix well, all the hamball ingredients, make in to 2.5 in balls-mine usually tend to be bigger... place in pans as desired.  Mix all sauce mix ingredients, pour it over the hamballs.  Bake @ 350 for 1 hour-you're suppose to turn once, but I don't.

You're Welcome. =)

Please don't call DHS, it was just a plastic hanger, no sharp pokey pieces...

Whatchoo lookin' at Willis?

Vices of a rural wife...

Not that it would have changed much if I would have ended up living in Los Angeles or Chicago, or any other larger city, but it just seems more suited to the semi-rural existence that has become my life, every semi-country wife must have her vices.  If I lived in a big city, I'm quite sure I'd be sitting at some trendy knitting shop sipping wine and chatting with the trendy ladies about big-city, high powered living, luckily, I'm at home, the boy's in bed and the dog is asleep on the couch with her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth...

I'm confessing my vices in this post.  Let's keep in mind, they're not limited to these items, but they certainly suck a fair share of my husband's hard earned $$.  I love crafts, let me be clear, not ART, crafts.  My 'art' capabilities extend as far as stick figures and puffy clouds.  I do not have a good eye and I rely on my VERY artistically talented mother (or my husband who has 'it' too) to tell me what looks good.

Now, if you want a knitted sweater, scarf, washcloth, blanket, etc, I won't even follow a pattern, I'll make one up as I go, and it'll fit and look great...If you want a cute little sewn handbag, embroidered napkins, curtains, baby items galore, I may need some kind of a pattern, but I'll sew it for you.

I don't have nearly enough time (as none of us do) to do what I love-especially with this working full time business...that puts a major cramp in my style.  So what do I do?  Buy ALL this season's new knitting mags and throw them in my stash...actually I usually haul like 8 of them around with me with the best intentions of looking at them cover to cover, until the corners are all bent and the covers are ripped (it's a rough life in the enormous purse I carry!) before I just resign myself to throwing them in the pile with all the rest that I have yet to thoroughly examine.

You think I'm kidding, here is my stash.  I hope to someday have it organized.  C'mon, you have your junk drawer, I just happen to have a 'junk half of a room'... (maybe the $$ I spend on these items doesn't bother my husband as much as the fact that all this stuff is out there for all of our house guests to see every time they come over...no doors on this room baby!)

My Mach-ine (that's ma-cheen)...this thing can do almost anything, the only limiting factor: my time.

Look, a 'Baker's Rack' filled with yarn, books, knitting mags, notions, pillows (that are supposed to have been covered with all the fabric you'll see in later photos) and other assorted items.  I think this rack was made for holding dishes, cupcakes and other homemade creations.  Hmmm... Whoops!  Oh, and do you like my thread rack and drawers of yarn?  How about the basket of yarn?? No?  hmmmmm.

Oh look, the fabric pile!  Very organized, I know! Oh, and my two boxes of greeting cards and thank you notes, because they should be in the craft pile, it just makes sense that way!

Oooooh!  Another box of un-knit yarn.... Would you be annoyed yet if you were my husband???  I say this but he is uber patient with me, really.

Oh, and more boxes/bags full of yarn. Please note: I do have projects for ALL of this yarn, I just need non-arthritic hands and more time to get it all knit up!  That's all I'm asking for.  Does it seem a little compulsive to have this many unfinished projects?!  Can anyone find the 1/2 finished quilt in this photo-GAH!  I need to get to that!

And then I have a glass of wine, shut the light off in the 'craft, half-room' and take my knitting mags to bed...

No pictures of the Guyface today.  He simply wasn't up to it.  3 shots at the doctor's office today and the last person he wanted to smile for was his Mama.  Sad but true.  Next time, he promises.

Good night.

Step-Mothering and Potted Plants

When I was dating my husband, my mom warned me that step-parenting is a thankless and very tough job.  It could be the toughest role to date for me.  We have our good times and we certainly have our challenges...


Tuesday night was a challenge after those pesky little girls were naughty.  They dropped a toy phone on their brother's head while he was laying on his back.  When he started to cry, they bolted...GRRRR!  I explained to them the next time they get hurt, I'm runnin'!  It makes me mad, they are old enough to be responsible and tell me what happened, or at least comfort the crying tyke for cryin' out loud!

So what is a step-mother to do besides ask their dad to address it with them (which she very well knows will not be done or if it is, will certainly not be as productive as it would be if she were to get a piece of them in the name of parenting!).  After I nagged Daddy to no avail.  I decided to take them outside to pot our remaining vegetable/herb plants.  I mean what is a step-mother to do besides reward poor behavior with fun...right?

Biggest Sister seems especially interested in gardening.  Big Sister just likes dirt and barking orders.  Biggest Sister will tell you what plants need to grow, different parts of the plant, etc.  Big Sister wants to get those garden gloves DIRTY (and everything else on her person for that matter-but they were going back to their mom's so, not my problem, right? =) )

It is extremely sad that I have to blur their faces (they are beautiful girls, albeit naughty, but beautiful).  Maybe someday when I have been granted permission I will share with you their beautiful faces, but for now, this is all you get.  Matching sweatshirts, garden gloves and our porch pots.  Rabbits are a nuisance around here so we can't grow tomatoes in the garden without rabbit bites out of them.  I'd love to see those punks work their way up and around my wrap around porch! Muhahahahaha!

The girls with our porch plants: tomatoes, peppers and cilantro

'Please Mama, may I have some more?!'

I own the creative rights to this boy-show 'em that smile Guyface!

I'm sure his Uncle Mike taught him this... I'm going to need to keep a closer eye on him! We don't stick our tongue out at Mommy, NO WAY!

Bachelorette Weekend...+1

My weekends have changed considerably in the last year.  Before, when I was by myself for the weekend, I'd go have drinks with friends, knit or sew or do something that I wanted to do.  Anymore, working full time, I spent my weekend birthday shopping for 2, planning and organized a baptism, and running all of our much needed errands.

If you are a full time working mother-take a moment and pat yourself on the back.  I am working 2 months full time, then back to my part time schedule and I am barely keeping my head above water.  If this is your daily grind, you amaze me and kudos to you! I do not know how you do it everyday.  I am not cut out for this  full time madness, no way, no how.  I cannot wait until July 1, when I go back to part time and can catch up.  But I will refuse to let go of this new cleaning lady I have obtained...she's a keeper!

Guyface and I were on our own as Daddy went to 'Louisiana to pick up a sheep'.  When he got home this morning (@ 445am after driving 30 hours straight there and back) he was without said sheep... WHAT?!  30 hours+ of driving Ford F-350 diesel truck plus inefficient trailer=4.5/mi gal and no sheep?  No frickin' way!  But ladies and gentlemen, it's the God's truth, he came back without the ram.

They did bring back 18 Ewes (for all you city folk-which I'm guessing in the vast majority of you, Ewe= mama sheep or grown female) and one Ram (think stud sheep) for collection at the University of Minnesota.

We're not evening going to go in to the collection process-mostly because I can't tell you that much about it, yet.  The end result though, is artificial insemination-again, I won't got there.

So what was my bachelorette weekend like?  Well when it's bachelorette +1, its much more exciting (depending on where you are in life I suppose).  We ran errands on Friday night until about 830, then Saturday morning, I had a 'babysitter' so I could go to Biggest Sister's soccer game and run the rest of my errands. It was FREEZING!  But I am a committed step-mother (as my dad, step-dad, if you must was to me) and I do everything I can to support them, just as he set the example for me.  Including cutting their toenails-which I despise. I don't remember him cutting my toenails, but I do know that he had to sit though dance recitals and what not.  I will be drawing the line at loose teeth, but I digress...

 We got a lot accomplished this weekend including the purchase of tomato plants, pepper plants, cilantro and hanging baskets...oh, and a blueberry bush.  They all still need planted, on my porch, where those pesky rabbits cannot get to them.  My 13 pound guard dog didn't work out so well exterminating the rabbits around here. With all the money I have spent this year, I am committed to my garden (much more than the waddling pregnant me of last summer-that was just stupid).  I have images of making baby food in my food processor swirling around in my head-yeah right! I'll take pictures once I weed my garden...someday....when it's not to hot, not too cold and not too wet.  Someday.

Anyway, this weekend Guyface had another special visitor, Bob, my dad.  He as driving back from Wyoming for work and wanted to drop by to see the little tyke.  Bob had never met him before, much like my older brother-come on guys, get it together! =)  Anyway, it was an interesting visit and the little guy seemed pretty impressed with the big guy, and vice versa.

'Mama, who is this??'

Knuckle sandwich-he liked it.

I think they liked each other

I had to put this in, it was taken a few weeks ago, but look at that face!  Gimme mama some gums Guy!

Watching the Cardinals game with Daddy before bed-this boy already loves his hat, his Mama is going to be in trouble when he's older. I think he'd sleep in it already if he could.

Brothers

I am so excited that my older brother FINALLY came to Iowa to visit-well and interview for a job.  He had yet to meet GuyFace, which I was not real pleased about.  'Guy's' (for short) middle name is 'Andrew', after his uncle.  There has been a lot going on in his life and he might just end up in our backyard, in Iowa.  OK, maybe we'd lend him a room until he can find a place.  That would make me 2 for 2 on brothers,  as my younger brother moved here two years ago-his circumstances were a little different.  He's a shit-if you know him, you're most definitely nodding your head.

I am happy to potentially have them both nearby, well Andy anyway, Michael uses me for my washer, dryer and the contents of my fridge and pantry.  He's not shy about it, he'll tell you the same thing. 

I miss my older brother a ton, we were good buddies.  When I chose to move to Iowa, I guess I never thought I would really stay.  After getting married to a man who's kind of anchored in Central Iowa, I no longer have a choice, so I must bring them to me.  It is my evil, master plan! moooohahahahahahahaha!

Either that or the two of them just can't get enough of me (and my cooking). It was nice to catch up with Andy, show him around town and potential places he might be able to settle with his dog, Molly McButters-'Butters' for short.  It's funny how things work out in life and he's been a great sport.  Much better than I would be if I were in his place.  (But then again, I'm vindictive and kind of 'an eye for an eye' kinda gal...do not mess with me.  OK, maybe I talk tough, but still, I would be more venomous with words and more cold with actions and he is not, not at all.  His grace and kindness and loyalty amaze me.  Apparently he didn't get the ferocity part of the gene pool, oh, that's not genetic, it's a learned behavior...that explains a lot... =))

The most comical moments of his trip might have involved 'Biggest' and 'Big Sister's (the irony of 'big' is just to much for me, please, these girls are birds!).  Uncle Andy arrived just in time for our Tuesday night dinner with the them.  For him, it was a multi-media experience and I was waiting for his head to start spinning, steam to come out of his ears and finally, this head to fly off.  Those girls kept him on his toes, told him how 'stinky' Uncle Mike is, and the reasons why he is stinky, they were telling him about Grandma Jan's house (...because he's never been there 'afore'), and all the current going's on in their lives.

I think he was exhausted after they left-and probably needed another drink.  Welcome to my life buddy!  Never a dull moment.

All in all, it was great fun to see him.  I do hope he ends up somewhere closer to us and we get to see him more. But most of all, I hope he finds the happiness, love and success that he deserves.

I love you Andy-keep pluggin' away buddy!



First time holding a baby?!



'Though you look just like my mother, I'm pretty sure you are not her...'



Which one looks more uncomfortable?



That's right baby, give 'em that big 'ole grin of yours!  Mama loves you!