Easiest Whole Wheat Bread

Here's a new recipe for whole wheat bread.  I"ve tried several now, and this one works well with my kitchen aid.  My friend told me the key is to keep the dough warm from start to finish.  Also, I have tried whole wheat bread with flour from the store and it doesn't compare with using fresh ground wheat.

Easiest Whole Wheat Bread

4 (8x4)loaves

7 c. ww flour
2/3 c. gluten flour
2.5 T. Yeast
5 C. Steaming Tap water
2 T. Salt
2/3 C. oil
2/3 C. honey or 1/2 c. sugar
2.5T. bottled lemon juice
5 C. WW flour

Mix together the first three ingredients in a mixer with dough hook.  Add water all at once and mix for one minute (on level 1 with kitchen aid); cover and let rest for 10 minutes.

Add salt, oil, honey, and lemon juice and beat for one minute.  Add last flour, 1 cup at a time, beating between each cup.  Beat for about 10 minutes until dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  This makes a very soft dough.

Preheat over for 1  minute to lukewarm and turn off.  Turn dough onto oiled countertop, divide, shape into leaves and place into oiled bread pans.  Let rise in warn over for 30 minutes.  Leave bread in oven, turn oven on to bake at 350 and bake for 30 minutes.

Notes:  with fresh ground wheat, you don't need to add oil.  You also don't need to add lemon juice- it is a dough enhancer.

The Writing on the Wall

It was late in the afternoon that I saw the hideous orange marker on the wall. Previously, the author, proud of her ability to write her name, had chosen the wall beside her bed to autograph. Now, there were some additional signatures, as well as her first sentence, "ellaizundreella'sbed".

Apparently, while I was shopping for our upcoming trip to Utah, Ryan had sent Ella to her room for time out. While there, she added some color to the wall. A few months ago, we learned that Ella knew how to read. And now, quite by accident, we know she know's how to write as well.

Unfortunately for her, she hasn't learned that when detailing a wall, anonymous author is the way to go. She was unhappy when she learned I was going to show people what she had written. She's afraid they will laugh at her. She covered the wall when I brought the camera in.

Madeline's Poem

Do you do.

With one arm in front

And one arm back.

With both of your

Hand’s in front

Or back.

By Madeline Belle Swapp

Love me.

Good-bye Winter

Three surprises today:

63--that was the Temperature when we got in our car after church today. It never felt so warm. Hard to believe that Ryan took these pictures two weeks ago. We drove home with the windows down

Golden Eagle- perched in in our tree in the back yard. What a majestic flying beauty. I think the eagle saw the ground squirrels start digging holes in the back yard.

Daylight Savings: Who knew- apparently most people in our ward, we were the only ones who showed up as everyone poured out of sacrament meeting. Really, it worked to our advantage today. Most people missed an hour of sleep, but not us. And it's nice to occasionally have two hours of church instead of three.

Apricot Coconut Balls

Today I created a recipe. The reasons are multiple:

• I needed a healthy sweet to quell the insatiable sugar crave I've had since I've "had" Sam (maybe the lack of sleep contributes to sugar crave).
• I realized I had apricots, dates and prunes left over from my last healthy treat quest at Christmas time. Max, thinking I had sweets (his hearing the rustling in the kitchen and running in is indicative of the seriousness of my sugar cravings), requested a prune, and I gave him one. Seeing him chewing on it 25 minutes later as he colored, I realized I would need to get creative in order to use the fruit.
• Creativeness with food runs in my family, so I was not afraid of the task. I don't remember my dad ever using a cook book, and yet he cooked many a meal in our house. I didn't know that there were set ways lasagna was made until I went to college. Our lasagna was always garden variety: tofu with spinach, beans and broccoli, squash and zucchini, with some tomato sauce and cheese if we had any.

Here's my recipe, it's delicious! (in the fashion of my upbringing, all measurements are estimates) and super healthy. The inspiration came from the treats we would leave Santa as a child, and from George Mateljan's book, "The World's Healthiest Foods".

Apricot/Date Coconut Globes (sounds more intergalactic than balls)

1 cup chopped almonds (which George tells me I should eat 1.5 ounces a day to provide Vitamin E and mono unsaturated fats for a healthy heart.)

1 cup chopped pecans

1 cup chopped dates

2 cups chopped apricots

1 cup chopped prunes

1/4 teaspoon almond extract

1 teas. cinnamon

If you don't steam your dried fruit, you might need a little apple juice concentrate to hold it all together. Mix all ingredients together. Gather enough to make inch globes and mash it together. Dunk your fruit globes in warm water and roll in chopped, shredded coconut.

Refrigerate.

I rewarded my good behavior with a mint Oreo shake, so don't be afraid to do the same.

Here's little Sam at six months. He is beloved by all, including and especially Max. "Hi Tam", is a common phrase in our house, followed by two toddler hands enveloping Sam's face, and a wet, often sticky kiss. "Tam" loves it when Max has just eaten a chocolate kiss. Max is good about naming Sam's body parts. "Tam eyes"- poke in the eyes, "Tam" mouth- poke in the mouth, "Tam nose"- poke luckily on the nose.

Sam just smiles and follows Max around with his eyes everywhere he goes. This may be why Sam might crawl before he sits up. He is currently getting up on his knees and rocking back and forth until he gets where he wants to, or else face plants. Second to Max, Sam also loves is hands, and he's constantly trying to fit both inside his mouth at the same time

“Mom, guess what?” my five year old’s earnest yell resounded through the house. After cringing at the decibel level, I found her running through the foyer looking for me, breathless and wide eyed.

“I found the caterpillar, look at him, isn’t he so cute. He’s a baby, he’s the same one we found before winter.” It’s amazing that she could tell “he” was the same one, and even more amazing that under the three feet of snow and Minnesota winter tundra, this little caterpillar survived.

“I’m going to fix him a nice bed, since he doesn’t have a family. I think he needs to sleep in mine and Madeline’s room so he won’t be scared. Ooh, look at his cute face.” All this as she brought him into my house, onto my kitchen table beside my 2 year old eating a banana muffin, and placed him on a pile of leaves she also brought inside, affixing him some nibbles of banana muffin, which if she is to be believed, he immediately ate. Hungry after a meager winter, I guess.

“Ella, the caterpillar has to live outside. He can’t stay in our house, I’m afraid Max will confuse him with his muffin and eat him.” “But mom….”. Her sincere concerns about the chances of this caterpillar’s survival were all familiar to me. I heard them when she found the baby bird in the pine tree this summer, when she found the 3 little frogs at her friend’s house and snuck them home in my car, yet again when she found butterflies, lightening bugs, box elder bugs, ants, and so forth. Before I strictly ordered him out to a certain death, I remembered my mom’s ability to dwell with 12 kids and numerous animals, insects and infamously, rodents.

Mom didn’t actually enjoy living with rodents. When we first moved into our hundred year old house on forty acres of land, there were some rodent problems. Most memorable was the time that a rat ran through the living room. Mom and all of us girls, likely about six of us, climbed onto one couch and yelled while my dad chased the rat around the house. No, mom detested rodents.

There was the time, however, that we found a nest of baby mice after dad tilled the garden lot. We surmised that the mom had been killed (I can’t remember whether there was physical proof or not). The mice were so new and young that they were pink and hairless. We fearlessly put them in a box and took them up the hill to the house to show mom.

We went through a myriad of reasons why we were the only chance the mice had of living through the night, not the least of which were our three dogs and two cats who curiously followed the box around wherever it went. Mom rebutted with her list of reasons why our efforts, while thoughtful and caring, might be more difficult that we anticipated. She also told us that even if we did everything we could, the mice might still die, because they were little and didn’t have a mother. Finally, In a stroke of brilliance, mom suggested that we could feed the mice with an eye dropper over the weekend, and on Monday, she would take the mice to a pet store.

My sister and I woke up every couple of hours those two nights and fed the mice milk and egg mix with an eye dropper. On Monday, my mom arranged a trip into town to take the mice. She drove an hour to get there. We insisted on going inside to make sure they were going to a safe place (we didn’t realize at that age all the useful purposes mice serve in pet stores).

Maybe “Fuzzy”, as he has since been named, will “grow up” in our house. Maybe these insects will breed in Ella a hope that she can make a difference and help save lives. And maybe when my daughter is my age, she will go to Haiti, like she wants to, and find a way to help the children there. Or maybe she’ll go to Africa or Central America- or even here in the United States. There’s always a need for more hope.