Today was far too beautiful to stay indoors.

It was time to go hiking.

We found a crazy steep/long trail through the forests to the beach…

Here, have some pictures!

and then we went through an old logging mill, where we found the …most interesting graffiti I have ever seen…

Rugby forever?

The Dude Abides?

This is crazy rebellion, and we shall not stand for it!

(have these kids even watched “The Heathers”???)

They are arriving tomorrow…

Stay tuned 😉

It began with the men entering our forest.

You could barely see them, but I could see them.

There were three men in hoodies and cargo shorts unloading gear from a white van and a hatchback.

Then they started carting things up our long, dirt road driveway in the forest, which didn’t make any sense. Who were these guys? How did they even find our house? I can’t even give clear directions to our house in the woods to people we know. They weren’t salesmen. They weren’t missionaries.

They had tents and were setting up camp, though.

I flung myself out of bed with uncontrollable shaking and angrily whispered to Ben, “They are in our front yard! They are in the forest! We have to do something!”

Yet, Ben slept on. Through the invasion of middle-aged white men invading our solitary home hidden in the cedars.

The middle-aged white men started walking towards our house, as if they just noticed it was there.

My shaking hands clutched my phone. I unlocked the screen and prayed that this wasn’t like one of those dreams when you punch someone and nothing happens. Very steadily I called 911. A middle-aged, female and rather country voice picked up on the other end asking “What’s the situation, honey?”

“There…there are people outside. There are people outside my house and they aren’t supposed to be here. My address is…” please don’t let this be like one of those dreams when you can’t remember your address. Because there are hundreds of invading people outside trying to get in, circling my house like Goths and Vandals. Trying every door and agitating every window, looking for a weakness.

“Okay honey, we’ll get a car over there to check things out.”

“No, you don’t understand! They are here! They are climbing up my walls and opening the windows! They will get inside, and I have 5 children in here. You need to send them now!”

“They’re on their way, so just hold tight, k?”

I looked around my bedroom floor that had piles of clean laundry and found a pair of my husband’s jeans to slip into.

The window next to me had two men hanging off and looking inside, although not at me. They had a gaze that stared straight into the heart of my home, and they never blinked. Their dusty blond hair stood at a floppy attention on their cratered pockmarked faces. I watched their glassy eyes look through the windows with a lust for the riches inside. Their moves were methodical and calculated. A smooth slip of the fingers underneath the window’s edge, and very slowly, up it went.

“No.” I barely whispered.

I had no strength in my arms to hit him in the face, so I took my fingers and slowly gouged his eyes out.

The soulless man never said a word, and simply blinked away and I closed the window, firmly setting the lock.

“Ben!” I hissed, “Ben they are coming in we have to do something!” I hit him, I pushed him, I yelled; and he still slumbered through this all.

I couldn’t breathe.

They were coming in. They had discovered the house we were going to raise our children in, and they were invading.

I could hear sirens closer, and the slow crunch of gravel, which means the firetruck was trying to make it up our steep , hazelnut lined driveway. Reinforcements were here, but they never made it up the hill.

Suddenly, there was a sound in the house.

I flung open my bedroom door, praying they hadn’t made it inside. Why did we not lock the front door before we went to bed?? Normally, why should we? We lived in a safe house in the middle of nowhere. No one would ever find us…

Middle-aged white men in cargo shorts started flooding into the downstairs entryway.

They found the way in, and it was right through the front door.

My face was frozen in panic. There was nothing I can do to fight them all. They were all bigger than I was, so I said very firmly, “Get out of my house.”

Three men started the plodding ascent upstairs, where my children safely slept.

I gasped in horror at my worst fears walking towards me, on the stairs I envisioned my daughter walking down in her wedding dress. The bottom stairs on which my sons would set up their Lego projects. The curve of the railing that led directly to their bedrooms.

My head turned to look at their closed doors, and my eyes widened.

The middle-aged white men in hoodies and cargo pants were already there, standing in front of the doors, their hands reaching out to the doorknobs…and the doors began to open.

Everything in me would stop them from reaching my children.

It began with my mouth which opened as wide as it could, and I screamed in bed.

It is 5:43pm, and it is Friday.

I am drinking a Blue Moon while the kids are finally watching the movie “Wrinkle in Time.”

And I am pooped.

My goal every morning is to be more productive than the day before.

It isn’t Protestant guilt, it isn’t a feeling of worthlessness…I just take great joy in going to bed at night knowing that I did my best that day, and having pride in what we have accomplished.

I’m also so tired by the end of the day, I sleep pretty well. And that’s nice.

This morning I finished seasoning the little cast iron skillets, after seasoning the larger two the other day. I did 2 loads of dishes, 5 loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, did school with the younger kids, and school with the older kids.

We had baths, lunch which was cornbread and hotdogs baked together in the little cast iron pans (this is a fantastic lunch, btw), I put a turkey in the oven this afternoon and I cleaned the kitchen.

I also have been organizing a timeline for 3 projects for a Project Fair next month, printing out sheets, drafting outlines and making sure it is a realistic goal (this is a problem, sometimes).

On top of this, I started creating a new webpage for my homeschool group because the last one is so ugly it offends me (and I made it, which makes it worse). I have a really good start, after a million years of formatting and figuring out pages vs. menus on WordPress. I am also drafting a new project idea for the community…and I really hope they like it, because it is a great idea!

But the best part of today was when the older two kids finished “Wrinkle in Time,” and the last packet of worksheets for the book! W007!

This means we get to watch the movie!!

Well, they get to watch the movie. I am sitting on the couch in the Fire Room, exhausted.

In the end, I am grateful that I have the legs to carry me from room to room, the mind that keeps me busy with good ideas, and a family with whom to accomplish all this.

That’s my Friday night summary.

Cheers 🙂

Within this box is my new pressure cooker.

My old one was a little old, and I certainly used it until it’s dying breath.  The green LED display was half working, and the timer was shoddy.  Sometimes it counted down, sometimes it got up to pressure…but there were too many times when I put in a chicken for 25 minutes, and came back to partially cooked chicken.

And that just ain’t flying on my kitchen turf.

So, one of the things to leave behind was my beloved pressure cooker.  I didn’t know what I was going to replace it with, and I wasn’t sure what other models were out there.  The last model I had was the cheapest I could find, and it did the job pretty well for the number of years I had it.

But times have changed, and I have a better understanding of what electric pressure cookers can do now.

And, baby: I’m driving a Ferrari this time.

Before we get too far into this, I have a bunch of recipes for electric pressure cookers over at Tamarah.org!

Here is one of my favorites, Down Home Chili.

Okay, let’s go!

Check this out.

This is the Elite…Platinum…Multi-Function Digital Pressure Cooker.

HooDoggy is this nice.

Specifically, I got the

MaxiMatic EPC-808 Elite Platinum 8-Quart Pressure Cooker

and I ordered it on Amazon. (*linky!)

This baby has so many more buttons and features than my last one.

The last pressure cooker I had only had “high” and “low” and “time.”  This sucker has “hours” and “minutes” and a whole bunch more stuff.  Looky!

So this is the inside.  The pot is removable, which is nice for cleaning.  Also dishwasher safe.

This is the release valve, which is super swank.  The last one I had was just a jiggle top.  This one has a whole labeled dial, and it doesn’t look like it will fall apart!  Bonus!!

This monster is huge.  But it has to be, because it is 8 Quarts.  The last one I had was 6 quarts, and I could fit a whole chicken in there, if I squished the legs down.  This one is HUGE, and I LOVE it.

I have been thinking for a while now that I needed to get another pressure cooker, because the one pot was kind of covering a meal for all of us…but the little people are getting bigger and starting to eat more.   One pressure cooker meal for 7 people was not really cutting it, entirely, anymore.  But with this one, I think I can do one meal again!  Bigger is definitely better for us.

This is starting to warm up, and it just looks like “The Future.”

What I want to point out is how many features there are on this futuristic machine:

Reheat. Beans. Brown Rice. White Rice. Ancient Grains. Stew. Poultry. Pork/Ribs. Soups. Beef. Potatoes. Desserts. Veg/Fish.

It also has a Delay Timer!

I am so in love with this.

This is what it looks like when it is closed and warming up.

Very quiet, very safe.  The outside isn’t warm to the touch, and the lid is locked.  This means I don’t have to worry about the kids being around it, or knocking it off or getting hurt.

It is now up to pressure and that is when the timer starts!  I set it for 10 minutes just to get it going.

I was very impressed with how quickly it came to pressure, and how accurate the timer was.  Both were spot on.

Okay, so after I played around with it enough, I went ahead and made dinner with it.

And if you thought I was messing around, then you just don’t know how I work.

First meal: Corned Beef!

Now, normally Corned Beef takes around 8-9 hours on low for a Crock Pot.  But that isn’t how electric pressure cookers work…we work in minutes, not hours.

So I put the Corned Beef in, added 6 cups of water and the seasonings, and set the timer for 55 minutes.

And walked away.

It came up to pressure very quickly, sealed and cooked for exactly 55 minutes.  When it was done, it beeped a few times and I came back to let the pressure release.

And what came out…?

This lovely dish!  Perfectly cooked.  Not soggy, not raw, not mushy.  Just a perfectly cooked roast of Corned Beef.

We enjoyed this meal thoroughly  🙂

Now, just to finish this off…here are some of the cooking times for different foods.

This will give you a better idea of how long it takes to cook meals.  Not in hours.  In minutes.

And then you can go buy one on Amazon and change how you ever cooked food  🙂

*I wish I was getting paid for these reviews, but I’m not.  I just sincerely believe that good, wholesome food, from scratch, can be an awesome and uncomplicated experience for everybody.  

I spend a good amount of time during the day making meals for the family.

I also have, like, other stuff to do during the day.

So if you think I want to spend hours prepping, cooking, baking, and cleaning up afterward…you got the wrong gal.

My kitchen was revolutionized a few years ago when I discovered the electric pressure cooker (link to my article on that!!), and our meals have been ridiculously amazing ever since.

But that was a few years ago!

What else could I do to make meals a little easier, a little more down home, and a little more exciting?

WELL: a few months ago we went out for the night.  We stopped by the pool for a little bit of family swimming after work, and by the time we were done it was too late to get dinner started at home. So, we dropped into a nearby pub for an easy dinner.

I can’t say pub food is the most gluten free food on earth, for what it’s worth. #salads

Nevertheless, I particularly noticed the dish one of the kids had. They had ordered shepherd’s pie, and it came out in an individual baking dish.

And that got me thinking…

What if I had individual baking dishes at home??

Unfortunately, the ramekins (which is what these dishes are called) I could find were all way too small for what I wanted. I didn’t want a side dish sized ramekin; I wanted a one portion sized ramekin.  So, I was striking out on that search…

You know what I did find, though? MINI-CAST IRON PANS!

I cannot even tell you how awesome these things are.

I got 7 pans, which are 6.25 inches across, so everyone had one pan, and, indeed, I could fit one portion into each pan! This is a dinner of baked chicken with garlic tomato and chickpeas.

So beautiful 🙂 But what I really wanted to make was shepherd’s pie!

(here is my shepherd’s pie recipe!)

Which turned out amazing!! 

The problem with making shepherd’s pie for the family our size is that I don’t have a casserole dish big enough to feed everyone. I could make two shepherd’s pie dishes, but then I would have too much. Consequently, I haven’t made it, or any other casserole-dish, for a long time. Either it is a size/portion issue, or the baking is uneven for larger dishes and the middle is squishy. Plus, when you are dishing it out it gets all messed up and the presentation isn’t nice.

And even though presentation doesn’t affect the quality of taste, it significantly affects the quality of life (yes it does).

Which is why these mini-cast iron pans solve a multitude of issues!

But…are they deep enough for shepherd’s pie? Because no one wants a thin shepherd’s pie. That’s just sad.

Awwww yeaaahhhh!!

Cooking for large families doesn’t have to consist of boxed rice and cream of bland soup.

Once you start thinking outside the box, you’ll find yourself in pre-seasoned cast iron heaven 🙂

The other day, I came to the realization that I am a perfectionist.

I know, it shocked me too.

These kinds of revelations tend to hide themselves when you are too busy making sure you have crossed all the t’s and dotted all the i’s.

Okay, maybe I am not a perfectionist with all areas in my life. Goodness knows I am not going to win an award for the cleanest kitchen (not with 3 loads of dishes to do every day), or the most frequently folded laundry. I can’t say I will ever enjoy folding laundry, even though I get a deep satisfaction when all the laundry is done and everyone is able to actually find clothes in a neat and orderly fashion.

Yet, there are so many things that I honestly do enjoy in life. Like writing, or teaching, or exercising. I honestly love doing these things more than doing anything else in life.

So, why am I not writing more? Why haven’t I finished the book I have been working on for ages? Why am I not getting on the rowing machine more often?

I have found that when I consider taking on a task which I would not only enjoy, but I believe it would enrich my life…I freeze.

One does not simply let paralyzing fear go.

The paralyzing fear of failure runs deep into a perfectionist’s soul.

The hounding questions of whether or not you actually know what you are doing, maybe someone else knows this subject better, what will people say when they see it? I can think of one person who should never be allowed to ever read any of my work, because I have words he has said before just hanging in the air, like suspended quotes of fail. Artistically destructive people should be banned from sharing their opinions with artists, I am absolutely certain.

The thing is, I am not writing for him (no one should ever write for him). I am writing for me.

I am not teaching for the approval of anyone else other than my family.

My need to attain perfection is not a facade, but a crippling symptom of my need to be accepted and, if I was completely honest, admired.

Tomorrow morning I have phase two of homeschooling anxiety: The first was the meeting with the principal, which was a little out of the blue. The next phase is the monthly teacher meeting. This has always gone well, and I just bring in work samples, show progress in each subject and submit a monthly report of what we have accomplished in the previous month.

This is a fairly straightforward meeting, since I have progress logs, status updates and work samples readily available from my own records. I just hate, hate, feeling like I am justifying our homeschooling to someone.

And I know for a fact that my irritation and annoyance is not based out of any fear or insecurity, but solely on my standard of perfection.

In my perfect world, I would walk in to the meeting and be praised for the enormous amount of hard work we are doing every day. My children would be commended for being so studious, and encouraged to continue on their prosperous journey.

The reality is that the meeting is mandatory for our group, and it lasts an hour.

And that’s it.

There is no earth-shaking revelations which come out of it. We merely fulfill the state’s requirements, and we are done with what we are obligated to.

What I come to realize, if you will follow me on this metaphorical journey, is that what I think I need to do is to write a hit song every day.

And that is not only absurd, but impossible.

You don’t need to write a hit song, to write a song.

So, that’s what I am working on.

I am just going to really enjoy being a songwriter for right now.

It has been a long, studious, laborious, devoted week to school over here…

and I am exhausted.

We have doubled up on math, math worksheets, reading, reading worksheets, essay prep, and standardized practice testing, to start with.

It has been a lot of hard work on everyone’s part…

BUT , we have made a lot of progress and I am really happy with where we are at! So, all in all: great week.

Unfortunately, I may have made an impulse buy on Amazon during my stressing out that I am failing my children as a teacher (see: drama queen):

I may have purchased shiny gold leggings to incentivize myself into working out.

Or, I might have just boldly thought I would look amazing in them right now.

Either way,  there are a few problems with this purchase.

1. I don’t have long, thin athletic legs that can slide into tights. I have Scottish, strong-like-an-ox legs that have trouble fitting into ski boots, skinny jeans (I don’t think you can have size 12 skinny jeans, for the record), and “one size fits all” tights.
2. They are shiny gold leggings.
3. I have never worn leggings in my life.
4. What on earth was I thinking. Where can you wear shiny gold leggings??
5. What on earth was I thinking…I have never worn leggings in my life!!

Well, the fact is that I bought them. And now I have them. And I can fit in them.

So now what, hot shot?

First, I have to get used to wearing leggings at all. I am easing into this new era.

We’ll see how this goes 😉

A little recap: we are in a part-time homeschool program out of a public school, which is pretty awesome. It’s free and the kids have classrooms and a locker and are learning through an enrichment set of subjects (art, music, science, history, english, etc), and it’s just for a few hours a week. But, since it’s through public school, we are asked to take standardized tests, which I’m fine with.

They aren’t my cup of tea, but we’re homeschoolers. But I’m trying to be a team player with the administration, so I haven’t opted out yet.

The tests are done on a computer, and the kids click the answers until they’re done. That’s how they’re tested. The sooner they finish, the sooner they get to play.

Evidently, my kids haven’t done well on the reading testing.

Sooo, I had to go to a meeting with the testing lady and the principal to discuss the academic performance of my kids.

Which…I said it before, but I didn’t go into homeschooling so I could get called in to the office.

But…team player.

So, I went and they just want to have a morning reading group for a few weeks, and then retake the test and see if there is improvement. And I’m fine with that. The kids will have fun, and I’ve offered to help in the class.

But here is my deal:

The kids just read MacBeth in the fall. They are finishing “Wrinkle in Time” this month. They read “Jane Eyre” and “Pride and Prejudice” last year. We do unit lesson studies on each book studying plot synopsis, character development, themes and imagery. They read books from the library every week and we have a number of writing/reading workbooks we do every day.

So, I know their reading is fine. But I can’t really tell the principal this since he has his tests.

Anyway.

We’re going to do the reading class, because that is a good opportunity anyway, and I am drilling them on practice standardized tests, so hopefully when they take the test again they’ll have significant improvement. The entire point of education is to find opportunities to progress with studies, so this can only end well.

It’s just frustrating, and maybe a little confusing, because of the judgement lines.

For instance, I met an unschooler the other day whose 9 year old can’t read or write. He wasn’t “inspired” to read, and his mom was really proud of that because it just shows how “out of the box” they were.

Yet, my kids are reading literature constantly and are doing 5 paragraph essays on Utopia/Dystopia societal systems, and they are considered bad readers.

Sometimes life is funny.