Lean to in Abilene: Days 7 and 8

As the sun peeked over the horizon, my husband stocked up on Sprite, lemons and limes at the local grocery there in Rotan. I started the rehydration process. By 1 p.m. I thought I was capable of getting back on the bike and continuing onward. Our plans were to bike to Sweetwater where Rick’s brother, Randy, would pick us up and take us to the home he shared with his wife, Karan, in Abilene.
Forever diligent about our tires’ air pressure, Rick stopped at a gas station as we left our hotel. So help me, there sat Goober, Gomer, Andy, Barney and Floyd straight out of Mayberry RFD shooting the breeze. These 5 jovial men, lounging after their lunch, good naturedly hoorayed and ballyhooed us as we told them about our trip.
We made surprisingly good time to Roby which was only 10 miles away. We stopped to recoup and visited with Bonnie at the Old West Antieks there on the main drag. As we consulted our thermometer, I was greatly disheartened as it reported 97 degrees. The oppressive heat was taking the wind out of my sails.
Outside of Roby, I declared “calf rope.” We called Randy and it was a relief to hear that he was on his way to intersect with us. Stopping to rest in the ditch, here came a half grown pup of a black Labrador who planted himself on my belly with a friendly smile. Smiling and panting the pup wouldn’t budge.
After we shook this dog, another one picked up the baton. This one had some cow dog mix in her and was warted all over with ticks. Oblivious to the traffic, she trotted down the middle of the road. Nothing would deter her. Our half hearted efforts with the billy club and yelling just made us feel bad.
8 miles north of Sweetwater, we intersected with Randy. Exhausted and thankful, I piled into the backseat of the pickup in the wonder of the air conditioner.
On our drive to Abilene, we passed “Bike across America” bikers on their expensive bikes in their fancy gear with their huge “sag” wagon and sheriff department escorts in the front and rear. There weren’t any dogs tagging along with them as they traveled down I 30 heading east. That’s one way to “do” a bike ride but Rick and I had chosen an entirely different way. Up close and personal with Texas and Texans, I wouldn’t have changed a thing! To each his own.
That night we dined out with the Duwe’s. I managed to eat some mashed potatoes but my stomach said “no” to anything else. As the sun set, it dawned on us that it would be wise to rest a day in Abilene. I took a long and deep bath and we called it a day.
Day 8 was spent regaining our strength and rebuilding our reserve. We knew there would be daily challenges ahead of us and it would take mental and physical preparation to complete our bike trip across Texas. I stayed at home base resting, revising our itinerary and communicating with family and friends. Rick had his “to do” list. His highest priority was purchasing some biker’s padded underwear. Other necessary acquisitions included bike tubes for more inevitable flats and a bike fender to put on Rick’s bike to downsize the load we carried on our backs. As an afterthought, I told Rick to check out the local Goodwill for some white, long-sleeved shirts to protect us from the harmful rays of the sun. The sun and heat were becoming more and more of a threat.
We had a pleasant and much needed day of rest there in Abilene. Tomorrow it would be back in the saddle again as we resumed where we left off north of Sweetwater.

From Spur to Rotan: Day 6

We had a good night sleep there in our little cottage in Spur underneath the air conditioner. When I woke up, it was overcast, cool and as calm as the eye of the storm. No wind. But I had to stick to my agreement; Rick got to sleep in. I took a bike tour of Spur. This town was as neat as a pin and you could tell the people loved their tiny town. There were brick streets, old main street structures, murals and several nice shops. My great Aunt Lea Hagins Porter was from Spur and I was on a mission to meet people who remembered her. I was not disappointed. Local reports confirmed that Aunt Lea was the kind soul I recalled.
In a light mist, I returned to our little cottage. It was not necessary to roust Rick. He was awake and ready to start getting ready. We packed up, said our “goodbyes” to our hosts the Holders and took pictures to document this layover. They didn’t accept charge cards but we heard the now familiar refrain: “Just mail us a check when you get home.” God’s provision through good hearted people was evident once again.
The wind soon made her presence known and greeted us with great enthusiasm. My diary entry made note of the verbena, black-eyed Susans and lilac bushes—finally some color in this drought stricken area. “Having to dig deep. In excruciating pain,” my illegible handwriting reminded me. Our derrieres continued to cause us great discomfort especially with the added strain of going up hills.
We had traveled 258 miles thus far through the great state of Texas. We had our rain gear on but it proved unnecessary as the clouds blew off and the heat declared itself. We biked southeastwardly and arrived at a roadside park at Putoff Canyon north of Jayton. We stopped for a snack of pralines: pecans dipped in crystallized honey. Entertainment was provided by the colors of the canyon and a monarch butterfly fusing yellow and black with the purple of the lilac bushes. A friendly roadrunner squawked at us before he ran on his way.
Heat, wind and fatigue were starting to affect us more and made the “want to” weak at times. Simple things got nixed as our spirits sagged. We skipped the nursing home in Jayton and missed the opportunity to meet the aging football star Sammy Baugh who resided there.
As we left Jayton, we saw our first dead rattlesnake. Someone had cut off it’s rattlers I guessed for a trophy. We also beheld our first bluebonnets. They were rather tired looking as they valiantly tried to make a showing in spite of the drought and wind.
We turned west straight into the wind now as we got on deserted highway 380. No gravel trucks on this stretch of 380. No nothing. We stopped to rest at the bridge that crossed the Salt Fork Branch of the Brazos River. Then we biked in solitude for 7 miles against 30+ mph winds up steep hills before we made our southerly turn toward Rotan.
Mesquite, mistletoe, cacti and sage abounded in this desolate area. The terrain looked perfect for rattlesnakes: dry, rough and rocky. We were not disappointed as we saw our first live rattlesnake exiting the road. He was four feet long and beautifully patterned. Oblivious to our presence, he was lethargic, not aggressive and appeared to like his privacy as he slowly made his getaway.
I was on high alert now as my eyes roved back and forth looking for more reptiles. Rick was behind me as we topped yet another long, slow, demoralizing climb. As he came abreast me on my left, I turned to greet him with a “Hi, honey.” As I brought my head back around to the front, there was rattlesnake number two perfectly camouflaged in the gravel just 2 feet from my right ankle. Totally caught off guard, I did the “girly scream thing”, bringing my feet to the handlebars. Rick got a good laugh out of my response. It took 30 minutes for my Texas sized goose bumps to subside.
The sun was starting to call it a day as Rick stopped for one last break before the final leg to Rotan. I felt like I was on my last leg. We could see the lights of Rotan way off in the distance on yonder hill as the sun rewarded us with a beautiful sunset. Tired, I had zero desire to get off my bike and rest in the sandy ditch. Forget food. With some trepidation, I had rattlesnake on the brain and my only desire was to get to our destination ASAP. As I prodded Rick to get up and go, we put on our lights for night travel. We took off as the sun dipped below the hills.
Rotan was rolling out the blue carpet for us. The lush bluebonnets released their evening fragrance as we flew past them on the steep downhill path in the near dark.
It was with great displeasure accompanied by more mountainous goose bumps that I spied another four foot long rattlesnake lounged on the road directly in my path. 50 yards further on, rattlesnake #4 gathered the last vestige of warmth from the asphalt. I was now pedaling for all I was worth concentrating hard on the path in front of me.
We arrived at the Windword Hotel in Rotan at 9:40 p.m. I settled in while Rick rode off to obtain some fast food. Relieved to be in a safe place, I resolved to never bike in the dark again if I could help it.
I was not much interested in eating but I did inhale some french fries and a few grudging bites of a nondescript chicken sandwich. I took a quick bath and hit the sack, staring at our map and making a few notations in my journal about the day’s ride. We had traveled 59 miles in 10 ½ hours. We were at mile 317. It had been a hard day’s work to be followed by a hard day’s night….
Two hours after going to bed, miserable and sleepless, tossing and turning, I realized there was a storm brewing in my stomach. My undigested food sloshed to and fro. I finally succumbed to the mounting urge to be sick. The epizootic had struck. I kept my husband apprised of my misery as I moaned and groaned throughout the remainder of the night.

Day 5: When the going gets tough....

Matador to Spur
“When the going gets tough, the tough get going….”
“See to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.”
Colossians 4:17

I woke up with a fat lower lip from sunburn. Our shoulders were sore from our backpacks and our derrieres (polite word for butts) hurt a 10 on the scale from 1-10. Ibuprofen was a very necessary commodity and we were using up our supply fast. I had trouble rousting Rick out of bed this next morning. “I’m 2 ½ years older than you,” was his excuse. He wanted breakfast but he settled for orange juice. The wind was bad. We struggled into Roaring Springs after just 8 miles and bummed around there building up courage for a few more miles. I prayed to God asking for the wind to abate. I guess God had more lessons of endurance for me to participate in and the wind continued throughout the day. I resorted to singing hymns and praying to distract me from the trials at hand. I called a friend to ask for prayer. I encouraged Rick to draft off me but he just couldn’t or wouldn’t get the hang of it. I would try to draft off him but he was going too slow. One bright spot of temporary encouragement came along. Sharon McMullen, in route to Austin to help with the grandchildren, stopped with warm hugs and well wishes. We needed that Sharon McMullen boost!
My husband wanted a sag wagon and verbalized thoughts of a rent car and a cab. Rick kept saying “if” we make it to the beach which would tick me off considerably as he showed his doubt about finishing our trip. I kept saying “when” and Rick would say “if.” Two totally different mind sets. Two totally different people and personality types. Lots of frustration. My Life Application Bible adds these comments to Colossians 4:17: “There are many ways for us to leave our work unfinished. We can easily get sidetracked morally, we can become exhausted and stop, we can get mad and quit, or we can let it slide and leave it up to others. We should see to it that we finish God’s assignments, completing the work we have received.” That’s where I was coming from. Rick’s thought processes were, “It is not your timetable or my timetable but God’s timetable.” I acknowledged that this was true but argued “God wants us to finish!”
My journal entry read “Ugh! We sack out at the Dickens County Line. Wind 30 mph. Honey brightens our eyes. We are covered with a crust of salt, sand and snot. The wind does not give up…. It is 85 degrees.” I was thinking again of the great stories of trial and triumph: Pilgrim’s Progress, Lord of the Rings, Christopher Columbus and Lewis and Clark. I even thought of ET and the wonderful bike ride scene as his earth friends secreted him away and tried to help him with his desire to “Go Home.” I called my buddies at work. I could be totally honest with them about the complexity of the ride. My friends at work were a huge encouragement to me and it did me a lot of good to tell them about our struggles and trials.
We stopped at least hourly to rest, eat and regain our strength. Of course, consistent with our personality types, I didn’t want to stop. Rick did. I was happy with a 10 minute break. But Rick wanted longer. This conflict was never resolved and was a source of frustration clear to the beach.
As we descended into Dickens we stopped to rest. It was close to 7 p.m. and was 92 degrees. We were tuckered out. I knew there was a motel in Dickens but had been encouraged by several folks not to stay there if we could help it. My friend back home had laughed about the possibility of “roach hotels” along the way. So far, no roach motel and I really wanted to keep it that way. We biked slowly through the quiet town and didn’t see a soul. On our way out of town, we stopped at the only place we saw that was open at the crossroads of 114 and 70-a liquor store. We were hot, tired and discouraged as we guzzled orange juice and grapefruit juice and refilled our water bottles with cold H2O. Rick’s friend Curt Hogue called at this point. The proprietress said, “The wind is dying down and there are no hills between here and Spur. Why don’t ya’ll head on?” So we did. We reached way down into that very deep, deep place and pulled up some more “want to.” I had called ahead to make sure there was a room but received a recording from Jewell at “The Spur Inn.” Her message ended, “And remember! We love you!” So with that said I was banking on a room at The Spur Inn.
We made 11 miles in one hour compared to our previous 3, 4 and 5 mph forward progress against the wind before the wind settled. It was cool and the tables had completely turned around. Wind was no longer our foe and had retracted her menacing threats. We arrived in Spur at 8:30. We biked through town and spied the Spur Inn. In one movement, I dropped my bike and bounded up the stairs. Door open, there sat Jewell with her oxygen nasal canula in her nose quilting on a yo-yo quilt in her lap. She beckoned me in with a big smile and dancing eyes. I hugged her neck and asked, “do you have a room for a weary traveler?” She said, “Honey, I’m gonna put you in my little cottage out back.” Her husband, Jim, got up to greet me. By then Rick had arrived. “Cottage” sounded like big bucks to me and I said, “Jewell, we are on a budget.” She said, “Honey, you don’t have to pay me.” Of course we wanted to pay, just not eighty bucks. She also offered their truck, “Go get you something to eat. You must be starving.” Jim ended up driving us to the local fast food place. The young man who waited on us was friendly and I noted dog tags around his neck. His brother was serving in Iraq and the dog tags were around his neck to remind him of his brother. The young man also had his marijuana necklace on which I just had to inquire about. “Oh, I just like to wear it.” ‘Course I commented on the dog tags, too, and tried to focus on the positive. We took our nutritionally bankrupt meal back to our cottage, and inhaled the salty food. I lathered on the catsup and am glad there were no witnesses as we devoured the food. Just picture a couple of ravenous, filthy pirates stranded on a hot and windy deserted island digging in and it will be close enough…. Of course, as a health nut my body and mind were screaming “no” the whole time I ate but my defenses were low and lust for salt and grease won out over my common sense.
Grateful for a clean room, we cranked down the ac, took our respective showers and hit the hay. I was grateful for separate beds. Rick had expressed his desire to sleep in. That was the deal. If he would get up and go early that a.m., he could sleep in the next day. We had ascertained it might be to our benefit if we got a later start and biked at dusk or in the dark when the wind let up a little. So I acquiesced to his desire to sleep in.

No Poo Update

For those who want an update on my 2 month old science experiment with abstaining from using shampoo.... The recommendations from my reading off the web did not work for this momma. Here is what is working: I use 1 T. of baking soda in warm water to wash my hair. I wet my hair with warm water, turn off the shower and massage my soda mixture into my hair and scalp for a minute or so. Then I rinse thoroughly with warm water. Then I close out with cold water to close the cuticles. My hair looks beautiful today and is holding a curl nicely. It will likely look clean for at least 3 days and sometimes more. The Apple Cider Vinegar rinse used according to directions left my hair waxy feeling and dull looking and made me feel grimy and grumpy. For what it's worth....

Chapter 4/Day 4: A New Definition for Exhaustion

After the best night’s sleep of the whole ride, we awoke to Gary frying bacon and cooking eggs and biscuits in the kitchen. Sharon invited her dear, little mother Jonnie Weaver to join us for breakfast. Amongst all these goings on here came Pete Gonzalez to retrieve his errant dog, Hercules. I thought “Hercules” was aptly named. Seemed he made a habit of escaping the confines of his world and his owner was growing impatient with his escapades. Mr. Gonzalez loaded Hercules into the back of his old pickup. The dog was trembling and I was fairly certain he knew he was in trouble. Sharon and I said our goodbyes to Hercules. I tried to get a good picture of him but he was like a child in hyper mode. I really appreciated the part Hercules played in our meeting of our new friends the McMullen’s.
4’ 7” 78 year old Jonnie was this beaming and excited schoolgirl of an audience. She loved us and we her the moment we met her. As our story unfolded from the day before and we told her the story of God’s provision through a hyper dog, Jonnie said, “God knows where to send people.” As we bowed our head before our breakfast, Jonnie wept as she prayed for us. It was the most endearing moment of our trip and I will always remember her earnest prayer on our behalf. We talked of other opportunities to help strangers in the past and we talked of all our animal friends from dogs, roadrunners, skunks, raccoons and owls.
As much as we hated to, we needed to be on our way. It was Sunday morning and pushing 11:00 when we said our goodbyes. The McMullens contributed pecan halves and a jar of crystallized honey to our stash of food. And we were off to our adventures. Unfortunately the wind was kicking up from the south as we headed southeast. A mile or so up the road we realized we had left our battery recharger plugged in the electrical outlet in “our” bedroom. Rick gave Gary a call on his cell phone and here came our chivalrous host with our recharger and offers of a money loan for the rest of our journey. We declined on the money.
I am so glad we didn’t bike over the Caprock Canyon in the dark. For one thing it would have been dangerous. For another we would have missed the beauty and drama of the canyon in the dark. And furthermore, we would have missed our friends Gary, Sharon and Jonnie.
Quitaque (pronounced “kitty-quay”) was quiet as we approached that Sunday morning. The only activity in town was The Sportsman Bar, Grill and Lodge there on the main drag. Hot and thirsty we pulled in. My husband as usual was thinking “hot meal.” I was thinking “not a good idea” because the day was heating up fast, we just ate breakfast and we had a long way to go to against the wind to Matador. As we entered the crowded, dark, small room, our eyes adjusted to see a lot of friendly faces watching us as we entered in full dress. We quietly took a booth in the corner trying not to draw any more attention to ourselves. In the booth next to ours, Jim Messer sat with his daughter, Jessi, on his lap, his son Jake next to him and his wife Misti on the other side of the booth. Misti said, “Did I see ya’ll yesterday standing in front of The Texan Motel in Panhandle?” We had a fun visit. Jim sent Jake home to retrieve some cross stickers for our bike helmets with WWJD on them. We helped ourselves to the veggies on the all you could eat buffet. We enjoyed visiting with locals Donna Hamilton, Doug Bingham and his mother, Gail, Walter Arnold, Jim and Donna Taylor and others. Eager to get going, not wanting to get stuck in the dark again, we say our goodbyes. It was now pushing 1:00 and it was 40 miles to Matador. Not good. We biked to Turkey the home place of famed musician Bob Wills of the Texas Dough Boy fame. The streets were deserted as we rested on the main drag there in Turkey. Rick was dragging this day really lagging to the rear as he tried to digest his too large veggie meal. At Turkey we turned south and was unpleasantly shocked at the tenacity of the wind that we now took full force in the face. We settled in for a very difficult leg. Not only was it windy but it was 84 degrees by this time. The traffic was slim so that was one good thing. Once I looked back to check on Rick’s whereabouts after fighting tooth and nail with the wind. I could ascertain that Rick was in the ditch. Our cell phone was no help. We had no reception plus the wind was too great to talk. Begrudgingly, I turned back to check on Rick. What had taken me 10+ minutes to bike against the wind I now covered in 1 minute with the aid of the wind. It was 6 p.m and Rick was fixing a flat. He found 2 cactus spines penetrating his tube. I watched the jackrabbits in their flight across the fields as he kept trying to fix that flat. The wind blew dust in his efforts and our green slime kept obstructing his view. His judgment was a bit off as he wasted precious minutes trying to repair the flat. I finally suggested he change out the tubes and fix the flat in our hotel room. Actually the break from the dispiriting fight with the wind was much needed. As we got back on our bikes, I saw a green sign in the distance that I knew would have the mileage to Matador on it. I prayed that it would say 10 miles. I could handle that. As I approached the sign and squinted to make out the numbers, I read 20 miles. This was one of the lower points of our trip. 20 miles in this wind translated to 4 more hours of toil. The sun was fading just as fast as we were.
At 7:40 we stopped to put on our lights. We were at a little place called Whiteflat complete with historical marker, old school house and the haunting hoot of an owl. Miraculously the wind started to die down. Rick spat out the word “copasetic” as he described the reprieve from the wind. We discussed the origin of the word copasetic. We talked to our son, Lane, at this point. Lane was truly conscientious about checking in with us to keep up with our progress. His calls were a huge encouragement to us.
My diary entries for the day say “Downhill doesn’t count if you can’t coast! I feel buffeted and rebuffed by the wind. I feel scolded. I feel like Job.”
In the middle of the road, I found a large rubber hoop identical to the ones our dog Moose loved to play with so we had to add that to our stash. At 7:54 Brian Smith, deputy sheriff of Motley County stopped to check on us. “Someone called and said they had passed 2 bikers and that they looked beat. They just wanted us to check on you.” Brian offered us a ride as dusk settled in earnest. We declined. Brian verified that there was a room at Billie Dean’s in Matador. We pulled into Billie Dean’s at 9:40 exhausted, relieved and a little numb from another hard day. Billie Dean didn’t answer her front door but I was reassured as I saw the lit up vacancy sign. I went around back, knocked and she answered that door. She checked us in; we cleaned up, made some phone calls and went gratefully to sleep.

What really happened.... Menu day 1 updated

Scrap the Alpine Chicken. Don't even waste your time. It was good but..here is a wonderful substitute that is easier, tastier, less time consuming and more kid friendly.

Chicken Cordon Bleu
Get out your old, pitiful looking 9x13 pan from your great grandmother's. Put in a layer of thawed chicken tenders. Cover the chicken with a layer of the best deli ham you can buy with no nitrites/nitrates. (Yes, I said "ham.") Cover the ham with layer of swiss cheese slices. Cover the swiss cheese with lots of homemade bread crumbs. Dab on 6 tablespoons of butter here and there. Cook at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Deliciouso!

We settled for baked potatoes instead of twice baked because of a time factor. I served with diced onion tops from the garden, sour cream and cheddar cheese. Yum!

The Salad was wonderful but a bit too costly. My boys stated they would just rather have a plain ol salad rather than with the fruit. But keep the Spinach Salad Recipe. It is a crowd pleaser at church functions/pot lucks. Colorful, healthy and tasty. I could not find Caroline's Orange Poppy Seed dressing at Wal-Willy so improvised with fresh orange juice and balsalmic vinegar.

The Strawberry shortcakes were delicious! Very, very good. Dave made the biscuits very thin so I put one biscuit down, covered it with strawberries and whipped cream and then repeated with another thin biscuit, strawberries and whipped cream. Skip the kiwis;they did not add as much color as I thought and the strawberries were sufficient.

Sunday we had beans and rice, rice and beans at church. They were delicious.

Fool Proof Beans
Soak your beans in water for 12-24 hours. Pour off water and rinse. Cook for 3-10 hours, whatever your time factor is; the longer, the better. Add plenty of salt and garlic powder to taste. For the last 30 minutes of your cooking time, pour in a can or 2 of Rotel and as much Cilantro as you like.

Well I never measure but the recipe looks something like this:
3 cups of beans and cover with water and soak as above.
Rinse the beans after soaking, put in crock pot and cover with water and then some. Add 1 T. salt and 1 T. garlic powder and 1 T. onion powder or whatever to your liking.
Add 1 can of Rotel, cilantro to your liking and a cup of sour cream. You just can't go wrong with this recipe. Throw in some brown rice the last 2 hours of your cooking time for a complete protein. Just remember to add some more water for the rice. A cornbread recipe will be forth coming.

I thanked God for the beauty of the day yesterday and then apologized that I wasn't out in it. So that is where I am heading now: OUTSIDE!

So there you go.

More later

Oh, Wife of Noble Character...

You are worth more than rubies. You work eagerly with your hands. You provide food for your family. You get up while it is still dark. Your arms are strong for your tasks. Your lamp does not go out a night... From Proverbs 31.

Hello exemplary friends,
I have disciplined myself to sit at the dining table this a.m. to prepare menus for the next 28 days. It has been fun to review all those recipes from my childhood and early marriage. No, sit down;no standing ovation. Please withhold your praise. This is a rare effort indeed. I usually just float along. But as ol Ziggy Ziglar says so well, "If you aim at nothing you hit it every time!" So here is the contract I am making with you, women who love the Lord. I will tell you my menu in advance, share recipes and shopping lists. I will track how much each meal costs and, just as importantly, time expenditure! Then I will tell you what REALLY happened in real life. Is that a deal? Company is coming tonight so I am planning a yummy and colorful meal. Remember: Presentation is everything! We will eat outside on a card table clothed in an antique table cloth under the willow tree. I'll probably have a tiny bouquet of wine cups and perhaps a candle on the table. No other company is scheduled for the week, so this is a bit elaborate. But company is so worth it! Whoops! But isn't family more worth it!!

Tonights meal plans:
Alpine Chicken
Spinach salad
Twice baked Potatoes
Strawberry Shortcake

I better get busy!

Menu #1

Alpine Chicken

4 cups cubed, cooked chicken
2 cups celery
2 cups herb stuffing
1 cup mayonnaise (may substitute buttermilk or soured milk)
¾ cup milk
¼ chopped onion (add more if you want. You can never go wrong with onion)
1 t. salt
½ t. pepper
Sliced Swiss cheese
Sliced almonds

Combine all ingredients except cheese and almonds. You may add 3/4 cup chicken broth to make moister. Pour half of chicken mixture in your prepared 9x12 inch pan. Cover with cheese. Pour in remaining chicken mixture. Bake covered 50 minutes at 325 degrees. Remove cover and bake 10 minutes more. Sprinkle sliced almonds on top and bake 30 minutes more.

Serves 12 and freezes well.

I can already tell you that I am cutting the cooking time in half. No way I will heat up my oven and house for that long. The chicken is already cooked so no concern there. Also, if you aren’t too fond of celery try it anyway. Learn to love celery! Or you can cut it in half and substitute diced carrots for some color.

Make your own herb stuffing. Squish 6 slices of bread (old bread, uneaten toast, stale crackers, etc.) a slice at a time and make into bread crumbs in your blender. Add Italian seasonings and salt. You don’t have to buy the expensive stuff.

This is the first time I have made this although I have eaten it once. Very good. I will let you know “the rest of the story.”


Twice Baked Potatoes

6 large baking potatoes
1 stick of butter
1 cup sour cream
½ to 1 cup of warm milk
1 t. salt
1 cup grated cheese
Additional grated cheese and paprika

Scrub potatoes and prick with fork. Bake potatoes for 1 hour at 425 degrees or until potato gives way under slight pressure. Half potatoes length wise and scoop out all potato pulp, leaving shells intact. Mash potato pulp with mixer to get out the large lumps.

Add sour cream, butter and enough milk to achieve desired consistency. Mixture should not be too thin. Add salt and beat until fluffy. Mix in 1 cup of cheese. Mound into potato shells. Sprinkle with extra cheese and paprika.

Place on freezer tray to harden. Wrap individually and store in freezer bags. To serve unwrap and bake in preheated oven at 350 degrees 45 minutes until top begins to brown.

Again, I have eaten these many times at my mother’s table but do not remember making them myself. I’ll let you know what happened!




Spinach Salad (if you don't try anything else on today's menu, try the spinach salad)

1 bag of spinach or mixed greens
1 small can of mandarin oranges
1 small container of fresh blueberries
Sliced almonds
Caroline’s orange poppy seed dressing to taste

Mix and serve. Delicious and beautiful!


Strawberry Short Cake

Make a batch of homemade biscuit dough.
Make a batch of homemade whipped cream.
Slice a batch of home grown strawberries.

Biscuits

1/3 cup olive oil
1 ¾ cup whole wheat flour
2 ½ t. baking powder (aluminum free)
¾ t. salt
¾ cup milk

Form your biscuits and bake in 450 degree oven for 10-12 minutes.

You can double your recipe and put half of the batch in your round cake pan and the other half in another round cake pan and then bake.


Whipped cream

Buy one pint of whipping cream. Add 1 t. vanilla and powdered sugar to taste—say ¼ cup at the most. Whip on high speed until the consistency you like. If you whip too long you will make butter.

Assembling your Strawberry Short Cake

Cut your cooked biscuits in half with a sharp, serrated knife. Ladle on the bottom of your biscuit sliced strawberries, then whipped cream. Cover with top portion of biscuit, ladle on strawberries and top with whipped cream. You can sprinkle on some diced kiwi for added color and yum.

Okay, I will let you know what happens with these lofty plans….

Don’t worry. Most of the other recipes I’ve chosen for the rest of the month are cheaper, more kid friendly and quicker.