Yo-Yo has been begging us to quit the spending fast. That he is unable to convince us to buy him a treat irritates him to no end. We’ve pointed out that he has his own money to spend, that he’s not starving, and that we’ve met all his needs (buying the kid underwear to replace his shredded loincloths doesn’t count as breaking the fast), but that doesn’t appease him any. Simply the idea of self-imposed frugality bugs him. What he doesn’t realize is that now that we know he’s watching and understands our little game, he’s given us more reason than ever to stick it out, to show him how few monetary needs we really have. There’s a lesson here, kiddo! Listen up!

Poor child. The suffering we inflict on him has no end.

So far we’re doing pretty good, though I must admit that I was sorely tempted to buy a coffee this morning when I went to Barnes and Noble for some writing time. To sit in a café and use their electricity (no wireless, though!) without buying anything at all brought on some tiny twinges of guilt, but I was strong. I buy coffees other times, I reasoned. I don’t need to buy them every time. (Right?)

Now that I have no flexibility with my purchases, I detest grocery shopping. Last night’s trip to the store was just so dang boring:

25-pound sack of bread flour
4 gallons of 2% milk
4 pounds of butter
10 pounds of potatoes
2 pounds of carrots
1 bunch of celery
1 container of tapioca
1 container of sour cream

As I was putting the milk in the fridge I got an incredible urge for a bowl of bought cereal, pretzels, ice cream, chips, and popcorn. So I made popcorn and opened a quart of grape juice. That was nice.

But not as nice as it could’ve been.

We still have insane amounts of food in this house. Wanna see?

Here’s the jelly cupboard. (Can you see where I took out the jar of grape juice to go with last night’s popcorn?) Mr. Handsome hauled two wash basket loads of canned goods from the basement and restocked the shelves. This is what the shelves in the basement look like now.

Still way too full. But wait! What’s that I spy? Empty canning jars! Lots of empty canning jars!

(To provide perspective, this is what we started with. It might not seem much more than what you see in these photos, but it is. Trust me.)

We’re doing our best to put a serious dent in the food supply (we’re pretty much having an applesauce free-for-all), but it’s a big job. We had three extra kids to feed yesterday, so unbeknownst to them, I enlisted their services.

Lunch: grilled cheese sandwiches with pesto from the freezer (check), oven-roasted tomatoes (check), and fruit smoothies with frozen strawberries (check) and frozen apricot chunks (check).

Mid afternoon snack: butternut squash pie (check).

Supper: biscuits with dried beef gravy (check—the beef had been in the freezer for going on two years and I still have some left), scrambled eggs, canned green beans (two quarts, check), frozen corn (1 ½ quarts, check), and some leftover rhubarb-strawberry crisp and squash pie (check, check, check).

Here’s what my freezers look like.

They’re emptying out nicely but there’s still a ridiculous amount of food in them.

I realize I’m soon going to shift my focus from freezer to garden, so I’m feeling the pressure to keep lids a-popping and bags a-defrosting. I focus on frozen and think positive thoughts. We can eat it. We can eat it. We can eat it.

As for the pantry, it’s certainly depleted (contrary to all appearances). No longer do we have white rice, cereal, wheat crackers, canned black olives, or lentils. I’m running low on whiskey, sherry, and pasta. But aside from those shortages, we’re still awash in a surprising amount of nonessentials: cracked wheat, kalamata olives, matzoh meal, coconut cream, canned pineapple, ranch dressing, canned grape leaves, dulce de leche, wine, chocolate, nuts, sweetened condensed milk, canned beans, hominy, barley, and cake flour.

There have only been a couple times that I’ve seriously felt the pinch. This morning at the café was one of those times, and the other time was when we went to Pittsburgh—making stops for junk food and coffee was out of the question (though Mr. Handsome did get a plain tall coffee because he was falling asleep—it was a question of life or death) and we relied on my brother for any entrance fees (he may have done that anyway in his role of host, but we didn’t even offer to chip in, something I don’t like not doing). (I did take him a box filled with various jars of canned goods.)

I have a list of things that I want to buy when we go off the freeze—for starters, chocolate tights, mascara, a camera battery, a flowy blouse, and sunglasses—but for now I’m sitting tight. I have a feeling that it might be quite awhile before Mr. Handsome buckles.

Until then, we certainly are in no danger of starving.

Two months, and one week and counting…..

About one year ago: To the dentist she goes, kind of.

Life has been rather tough around here lately. I’m not sure why since we have a good, stable routine (but yet did something out-of-the-ordinary), are getting enough sleep, and are eating well. Regardless, life has felt a bit overwhelming. Mostly because the kids fight continually. I tried my best to nix that on Monday (maybe I’ll write about my brilliant techniques later), but then on Tuesday night I got a new idea.

Because the forecast was calling for sunny weather and 60 to 70 degree temps for Wednesday through Saturday, I decided to shake things up a bit. Hey, I thought to myself. I can do anything I want. I’m a homeschooler. Sometimes I’m slow on the uptake.

The truth is, I’m ready to quit the kids’ studies right now. I know that homeschool families are expected to go through a bunch of draggy angst in February, but for me, the blah-fits strike when green stuff starts poking through the brown and the kids forget that they possess foot apparel. Then I just want to scream, ENOUGH! and head outdoors to the toolshed. But alas, we’ve not studied sufficiently for one year (by my self-imposed and ill-defined measuring stick), and besides, it really is too early to put up all the winter clothes. So instead, we slog through our lessons and wallow around in our sun-drenched misery.

Or not. Or not? Or NOT!

For illustration purposes, take a look at Miss Beccaboo’s poking techniques. She is The Queen of Poke:

Tuesday night I called the kids to me (saying that makes me feel like a clucky, head-bobbing hen) and informed them that for the rest of the week we would have a different schedule. We would do our school reading time in the evening (we’re between read alouds anyway, having just finished up To Kill A Mockingbird on Sunday) and review the next morning’s independent work assignments. In the morning they could sail straight through their studies and then on out the door. I would sail out after them and then we’d all do some garden work together.

We’ve now actualized one day of the new plan; it’s officially kid-tested and mother-approved.

We didn’t get outside as quickly as I had hoped—we still had chores and attitudes to deal with, after all—but outside we did get. I pruned the red raspberries and cleaned up the asparagus bed (THE ASPARAGUS IS COMING UP! I SAW A FAT WHITE SHOOT WITH MY VERY OWN EYES!) and the kids loaded up all the brush and brambles in the wheelbarrow and hauled them down to the burn pile. I transplanted out the rhubarb (and broke a shovel), and the kids worked at shoveling dirt back into a hole that they made last fall. The Baby Nickel went against my orders and collected the eggs from the coop and then one of them busted in his pants pocket. I wasn’t ready to go inside yet (I lock the doors and carry the key when we all go outside to work—it helps to keep us all on the same page) so he sat on the sunny porch steps in his underwear and “read”/shredded the newspaper flyers. We finally went inside for our lunch, which I already told you about yesterday.

Today will be only slightly different. I’m watching my friend’s children from mid-morning through supper. This means that my kids will probably get their jobs and independent work done more quickly than before and then they’ll stay outside and play all day long. Despite needing to cook bigger meals, I hope to get my flower beds cleaned up and do some weeding in the strawberries. We’ll see.

P.S. It’s still dark outside and Yo-Yo is up. He asked for a pencil and sat right down at the table to do his grammar pages. It appears we’re off to a good start!

About one year ago: Butterscotch Pudding, and Warm Chocolate Sourdough Cake (Only click on the latter link if you have a full stomach; otherwise, bad things might happen.)

About three or four years ago, I used to make oatmeal pancakes for our breakfast on a regular basis. We had a school bus-riding foster child then, and since I needed to be up anyway to make sure she didn’t slip out of the house with her tongue ring still in, I went the extra step and made a hot breakfast for everyone. Along with Dutch puff, oatmeal, Farmer Boy pancakes, scrambled or fried eggs, egg casseroles, and Cream Cheese and Blueberry French Toast Sandwiches, I made oatmeal pancakes.

Everyone likes oatmeal pancakes better than plain oatmeal (c’mon, there’s syrup involved!), and they are fairly simple to assemble, though because the oats soak in a yogurt-water mixture overnight, you do have to remember to start them the night before. I’ve been trying to make them all week now, but somehow always ended up going to bed before setting the oats to soaking. Until last night, that is. Then I finally remembered. (Seeing as last night was Tuesday night, I guess I’m not doing so bad.)

Soaking oats (and other grains) in yogurt or buttermilk is recommended by the health experts because the enzymes in the cultured dairy products help to break down and neutralize the phytic acid, thus improving the food’s nutritional benefits. (I got so smart by reading Sally Fallon’s book Nourishing Traditions.) But we all know I’m no health freak (I’m a freak in other ways, yes, but not in healthy ways), and even so, I choose to soak my oats. Why? Because they taste good! The oats plump up till they are swollen and tender (and about the same consistency of cooked oatmeal), and they develop a slight hint of sourness (use less yogurt for less sour; more yogurt and the sourness becomes more intense) so that the final product tastes more cultured (in a sophisticated sort of way).

So this morning after spending some dark morning quality time at my computer, I set the griddle on the stove top and went about adding flour, spices, oil, and a handful of eggs to the bowl of soaked oats. The Baby Nickel joined me and hijacked my spatulas.

The final pancakes are tender and chewy (but not gummy) with a hint of cinnamon. Served with lots of butter and homemade maple syrup, they make for a deliciously hearty breakfast.

We ate a bunch of the leftover pancakes for lunch (after we finished off a loaf of bread, some chicken salad, lentils and brown rice, and spinach-chicken quiche), reheated and spread with butter and grape jelly.

Oatmeal Pancakes other ways:
Molly’s Oatmeal Pancakes
Mama Pea’s Oatmeal Pancakes

Oatmeal Pancakes
Adapted from Simply in Season

A double recipe feeds my family most generously and still leaves a couple pancakes for later snacking.

Variations: Add a grated apple, chopped dried dates, or blueberries to the batter.

2 cups rolled oats
½ cup yogurt or buttermilk
1 ½ cups water
2 eggs, beaten
1/4 cup oil, or melted butter
½ cup flour
2 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt

The night before:
Stir together the oats, yogurt, and water. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap (or a shower cap) and set it aside on the counter. Go to bed.

In the morning:
Stir together the dry ingredients in a small bowl.

Add the eggs and oil to the soaked oats. Stir in the dry ingredients.

Melt a pat of butter in a frying pan and spoon some of the batter into the pan. The batter is thick, so you may need to use the back of a spoon to spread the batter out a bit. Fry the pancakes until they are golden brown and no longer wet inside.

About one year ago: A child’s blessing.