Homemade Quesadillas

I'm on a tortilla kick lately, I promise that's not all we're eating these days!

When Hubby and I got married, we received a quesadilla maker.  It was nice and worked fine.  But it only made one quesadilla at a time.  And as much as we love each other, it isn't SO romantic to sit at the table together and nibble a shared quesadilla as you wait for another one to be done.  Now add in three kiddos and I'd be making quesadillas for hours. 

And in the big cleaning out that is happening around here (at least with my stuff), the quesadilla maker was donated to the thrift store.

Does that mean we are now sentenced to a quesadilla-less existence??  It certainly does not.

Necessity being the mother of invention (and I'll add innovation), we now have BETTER quesadillas!!

In this particular batch, I opened a pint of canned turkey, shredded pepper jack and chipotle chedder cheese, picked some green onions and used butter.  (I know you're shocked about the butter.)

{As an aside, I recently gave a seminar on canning and someone asked, "How do you have time to can?"  I replied, "I don't have time NOT to can!"  Because I had canned turkey in my pantry, I got this hot meal on the table in less than 10 minutes.}

Put some butter in the bottom of your cast iron skillet, drain water/broth from turkey and add.  We want to heat the turkey thoroughly and if we get some nice crispy bits, that would be just fine!

 While the turkey is heating, grab some soft butter.  Go ahead, grab it!  And then spread it on one side of a tortilla.  This is wonderfully relaxing way to cook.

Flip that tortilla over and add a layer of cheese.

Then the turkey and green onions.

And then a final layer of cheese.  Why the cheese at the beginning and the end?  Because the melting cheese acts as a "glue" that hold the non-melting ingredients together and keeps your quesadilla from falling apart.

 You'll want to butter one side of another tortilla to place on top, using the same wonderfully relaxing technique.  Who says you can't have fun in the kitchen??

Slide the quesadilla onto a HOT griddle.  I can't stress that enough.  My griddle was at 400 degrees.  If the temperature is too low, the tortillas will get hard by the time the cheese is melted.  We want them crispy, not hard!

It only takes 3 or 4 minutes, so don't leave them.  When the bottom side looks like this, flip 'em!

I know I should have taken a finished shot, but we ate them just as fast as I made them.  All five of us thought they were great!  With some fruit, it made a great lunch.  With a salad or some rice, you're all set for supper.  

The filling possibilities are endless!  My niece and nephew would probably want peanut butter and jelly.  ICK!  I like peanut butter and I like jelly, but combining the two is a horrible thing to do to both peanut butter and jelly!

Go forth and make your own quesadillas!!

Veggie Patch Pizza

On Good Friday, our family tradition is to not eat meat.  But Friday is also our family tradition of homemade pizza and ice cream.  Enter veggie patch pizza!

I used grande burrito sized tortillas as my thin pizza crust.

Take some butter.  Only butter.

And smear it over one side of the tortilla.  Use both hands if you want!

Then flip it over so the buttered side is on the bottom.  Why do we do this?  It makes the bottom of the crust nice and crispy, instead of soggy.  

Meanwhile, I started sweating some veggies in my cast iron skillet:  zucchini, red pepper, onion and minced garlic in butter.  

 

 Take 2 Tbsp of homemade pizza sauce and swirl it around.  I don't like a lot of sauce so I use it sparingly.  Do whatever floats your boat.

Then I added some fresh spinach.  I didn't wilt this in the skillet as the heat from the oven will wilt it on the pizza.

Add your vegetables and prepare to add your cheese.

Doesn't it look great?  And we haven't even baked it yet!

This pizza is quick:  10 minutes at 425 degrees is all it takes to get awesome thin crust pizza at home.

Moving out!!

Today was the day!  The day we evicted the hens from their cozy winter hoop-coop and out to the pasture.

Here they are coming to receive the eviction notice.

Hubby and Kiddo1 wore their balaclavas...it was cold out there in the wind!

Moving hens really is a three person job.  Thankfully we had a third pair of hands that were not only willing but ABLE to help this year!

Kiddo1 would catch the hens with the net.

It's a pretty proud moment to know you're really helping Mom and Dad!

 My job was to trim the feathers on one wing.  Why do we do that?  By trimming just one wing the hen can't balance herself to fly and that keeps her within the fence and from becoming coyote food.

I tucked each hen under my left arm (I'm right handed) and spread the hen's right wing feathers.  We want to trim the last 10 feathers.  You don't have to count the feathers on each hen.  There is a natural break in the plummage after the tenth feather.  See that feather right above my thumb?  That marks the break.

I just used a kitchen shear, sharp and tough.  This doesn't hurt the chicken one bit!  Their feathers are like our fingernails:  made of protein and have no nerves.  But unlike our fingernails, these feathers won't regrow.  They'll fall out when the hens molt this fall/winter.

Kiddo3 watched the goings on from the doorway as Hubby took the trimmed hens and put them in the cages in the back of the pickup.

The hens are in electrified poultry netting to keep varmints out and chicken in.  They have a range shelter to sleep in at night with nest boxes on each side to lay their eggs.

When we got to the pasture, the hens scratched and pecked.  Kiddo1 exclaimed, "Mama, the chickens are so happy!"  Yes, they are!  Doing what chickens love to do.

 It doesn't look like much now, but that hill will green up in a few weeks and those hens will produce delicious and nutritious eggs from that forage.  It takes about 10 days for the dark orange color to return to their yolks.  So our egg customers should have them before May!

Easter: Last year and this year

I've said it before and I'll say it again, "What a difference a year makes!"  This time in regard to Easter.

Last year:  I dressed the kids in play clothes and winter coats and rubber boots.  We waited until dawn's early light and started walking the half mile across frozen soybean fields to our vehicles.  The kids were tired, couldn't walk fast, and with only two sets of arms, Kiddo1 had to be a trooper and walk in the grey light and the black mud.  When we got to the van, I took off the frontpack that held Kiddo3 and the backpack that contained our Easter clothes and we dressed in the cold van.

(You may be asking, "Why didn't you just take the boat around your flooded road?"  Well, the ice wasn't off the water and if the remaining ice would have shifted we'd be stranded.  Up a flooded road without a path.)

This year:  We DROVE (can you tell I love that part) our van from our house to THE FARM and spent the night in the bosom of my childhood.

It was a bittersweet trip.  As we were doing some last minute siding wrap-up Saturday morning, I found out that our beloved neighbor at THE FARM was killed in a car accident.  My heart broke.  My dad's longest friend, they literally grew up a mile from each other, went to school in the same class, farmed the land together on either side of the section line.  They would dig each other out in the winter and pull each other out in the spring.  A man of God.  He and his wife were the first to come to my mom when she got home last fall.  They all cried together.

I knew I had to go see his family and in our community, we don't go empty handed.  We bring food.  Comfort for the body as we comfort each other.  I baked buns, pulled fresh kuchen out of the freezer and we went home.

Hubby and the kids stayed at THE FARM and I went alone.  To a house I'd been in many times which now seemed almost empty even when it was full of people.  There was no big man with big hands, a big laugh and an even bigger heart.  We hugged, we cried.  Death is not easy.

My mom asked that I put some flowers on Dad's grave.  I left our neighbor's and went to the cemetery, a very fitting place to spend Easter Saturday.

As I stood next to the bare earth that marks his grave and wept, it struck me how this Easter is so much like the first Easter.  My father is gone, our neighbor is gone.  Our little community on Old #7 has lost its bedrock of 70 years.  What are we to do?  How are we to go on?

Is this a just a bit of what the disciples felt on their Easter Saturday?

Those men and women stood beside a tomb and wept, knowing that their bedrock was gone.  What were they to do?  How were they to go on?

But then Sunday came...for them and for me.

We went to my home church, the church I was raised in.  My family.  The first time I'd been there without my parents.  We were slightly late for the 7am service.  But our old family pew was still open.  Not the one my parents moved to ACROSS THE AISLE, but the one we'd always sat in as a family.  And as I sat there with my three kids (two girls and a boy) and thought of my parents sitting in this same pew with their two girls and a boy.  I miss them terribly.  I miss us together.  But I was wrapped in the arms of my church family.  Who hugged me and loved me and we missed my folks together.  We ate breakfast with my mom's best friend who dreamt about her the night before.  I sat next to my dear friend Anna and we traded mother-of-young-children stories as our husband's managed the chaos of kids and too many jelly beans.

Last year:  I fought the flood waters.

This year:  I didn't fight the flood of tears and emotions, but let myself be loved and held in arms of my church family and in the promise that death is not the end.  Because Jesus's tomb was empty on Sunday morning, I know my dad and neighbor stand together in heaven.  Death is not the end.  Praise God, death is not the end.

Singing and butchering chickens

My motto in life is "Try It!"  Even the experts had to start somewhere.  And I'll add Uncle Joel's advice, "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing poorly first."

And with those pieces of advice tucked in my heart and brain, I've tackled lots of new things like canning, baking bread, raising turkeys, lots of home improvement projects.

Before Hubby and I got married, we wanted to replace the flooring in his house with hardwood floors.  I had never laid hardwood floors and neither had Hubby.  But I am the daughter of a master woodworker and know my way around power tools.  Hand-in-hand we strolled the aisles of the home improvement store and picked out our honey oak flooring and the nail gun and staples and other assorted items.  We brought home three rooms worth of flooring and were ready to get started.

Soon-to-be-Hubby looked at me and said, "Alright, what do we do first?"
I said, "Read the directions!"
He asked with a raised eyebrow, "What do you mean?  Haven't you done this before?"
"Nope!  But we'll figure it out!"
(I should note that this was Hubby's first real life example of my motto.  It was not his last...)
"WHAT??!!  We just bought over 300 square feet of hardwood flooring and you don't know how to install it??"
And I responded, "Well, my assumption is that they wouldn't sell it at Menard's if you couldn't do it yourself.  After all, they don't sell neurosurgery kits!"

We started in the closet (always a good place to start with a new project), and soon were laying flooring like pros.  There is nothing like a home improvement project to find out how a soon--to-be-married couple works together!!

And five years later, the flooring still looks great!

(I can hear you thinking, "Why is she talking about flooring when the title of the post is singing and butchering chickens?")  I'm getting there, I promise.

Last night, Hubby and I were driving home from THE FARM and the kiddos were sleeping so we turned on the radio to find some songs to sing along.  And we did!  Some we both knew and others we didn't.

I've always wanted to be a good singer.  My mom and my sister are excellent singers.  I, however, am not.  And enthusiasm does not cover up my lack of singing ability.  To illustrate this point, I was singing in the shower and my dad knocked on the bathroom door and asked what I was doing to the cat.  See??  And singing is not like hardwood flooring installation.  Singing is one of those things that I just can't get better at.  I am what I am.

It's not that I'm not musical.  I played a variety of musical instruments in high school.  I've played the piano for 30 years and am our church's pianist every Sunday.  I do LOVE music!  And I REALLY wish I could sing.

But I console myself with the fact that I'm sure there are wonderful singers out there who look longing at their husbands and say "Honey, I really wish I knew how to butcher chickens!"

A Sin of Omission

Do you ever take things for granted?  In my post yesterday, I neglected a VERY important book.

You know that get-to-know-you question "If you could invite three people to dinner, who would they be?", this author is on the top of my list.  He's one of my favorite people in all the land.

Did you know that I have a manuscript of this book in a special drawer in my living room?  I do.  It's the only thing in that drawer and my children are forbidden to touch it.

My brother wrote this book.  My brother the author.  Who is also my brother the pastor, Duke Divinity School graduate, college football player, State FFA Officer, Duke Men's basketball season ticket holder, woodworker, fun uncle, and fabulous brother.

My dad often said, "You two are too alike to get along all the time.  But you're too much alike to stay mad at each other for very long."  And he was correct!

My brother and I have had a LOT of fun times together.  We've roadtripped to the east coast twice, gone to sporting events and concerts, done home improvement projects, worked lambs and calves.  You name, we've probably done it together.

He's pretty important to me.

And when he said, "Hey, I wrote a book.  Will you read it and let me know what you think?"  Well, I was honored.

And here is my completely biased, but truthful review:
I love this book.  I read it straight through the first time.  The scene is North Dakota so you can easily picture the setting and the town of Revelation.  Emmett McCall is a wonderfully layered character that you want to know more about.  The other characters are very charming and endearing, you know someone like each of them.  It's a Western mystery, but there's plenty of dialog and side stories to provide a lot of personality to the storyline.

The best part of this book?  It contains a study guide in the back for small group reading and study.  Our small group Bible study read it together and the discussions we had were great.  But it doesn't read like a Bible study book.  The essays and questions dig deeper into the characters and story and relate them both to your own life.

Bottom line?  I'd love this book EVEN IF my brother didn't write it.
And I'm proud as punch that he did.

My favorite books

It's coming to the end of reading season around the farm (aka spring is here) so I thought I'd share a few of my favorite books.  Now, keep in mind that I read A LOT!  And therefore, these recommendations are the best of the best.  These are the ones I read every year.  These are the ones that I give as gifts.  These are the ones that if our house was on fire, I would grab on my way out the door.

The Cherokee Trail by Louis L'Amour is my favorite of the L'Amour westerns.  (A close second is any book that has Chick Bowdrie in it.)  This one tells the story of Mary Breydon who heads west with her young daughter to run a stage station after the Civil War destroys her family's plantation.  I love strong women characters and Mrs. Breydon is one of the best!  Even if you're not a western genre fan, this book crosses those borders.

 At Home In Mitford is the first book of the Mitford Series by Jan Karon.  My mom, sister and I will quote these books often with Mitford-isms.  Father Tim is the main character and an Episcopal priest in the mountain town of Mitford, North Carolina.  These books will make you laugh, cry and giggle out loud.  Jan Karon does an excellent job of character development and her dialog is absolutely awesome! All of the books in the series are wonderful, you'll be transported to Mitford!

If I'm forced to choose just one Janette Oke series (SERIES, mind you, not just book) it would be the Seasons of the Heart series.  The story of Joshua is so sweet and tender and heartwarming, you just can't but laugh and groan and cry at his life experiences.  It's wonderful tale to read aloud to your kids. I also love the Canadian Rocky series and the Love series.  My mom read these books aloud to us multiple times in the car as we drove to various places.  There were no DVD players in cars back then, just my mom and great books!

Debbie Macomber writes romance novels, but the sweet kind.  No smut here, thank you very much.  Her stories are captivating, her characters endearing, the love stories sweet.  I love her stories on a cold winters night snuggled in with Hubby.  And they almost always talk about knitting, even better!

I'm a book lover more than a movie lover.  So I had read The Notebook long before the movie was released.  And I do like the movie.  But I LOVE the book.  It's a tear jerker every time.  I read it on a busride with my science olympiad students back in my teaching days and scared them a bit with my tears.  The sequel The Wedding, is just about as good.  This one is dog eared and the cover is a bit worn, the best kind of book!

And lastly, my new favorite!  Ann Voskamp will change your life.  You will see your life in a new way, a better way, they way it was meant to be lived.  I couldn't read this book straight through.  I had to read it bit by bit and process what she was saying and how it related to me right now.  I can't wait to read it again and absorb more.  I love when I am changed by a book.  You need this one.

So, there you have it, a wonderful reading list to get you through the summer reading season.  (My current reading season has me reading seed packets.)