2010 Favorites

Ok. I just lied to you. I know I said this was going to be a list of my favorite things from 2010 but since this is my first year blogging, I might back list just a tad. (Don't worry, I promise not to go as far back as The Chipmunk Adventure movie, that was third grade. Ok, maybe sixth, and now I'm totally embarrassed. Moving on.)

This a list of books and movies that I would not only recommend, but bring a smile to my face on a cold blustery day when one just wants to curl up with a throw, a good book or the remote control.

Books:

Anything by Liz Curtis Higgs. (LOVE her Scottish Series: Thorn in my Heart, Fair is the Rose and Whence Came a Prince. Buy it now. And a box of Kleenex.) Her newest book, Here Burns my Candle, also set in Scotland, is fabulous.


Anything by Susan Meissner. (I read The Shape of Mercy and just finished Lady in Waiting. I'm currently in the middle of A Seahorse in the Thames and its really great. I was hooked by page two and that's hard to do. Susan is so good at what she does. Required: no social life for about two days. And I wish I had thought of this one: Pizza + paper plates= more time to read.) The woman has a gift. I've never read a title by her that I haven't loved.

Under the Tuscan Sun. (It was so much better than the movie. Sorry, Diane Lane. I still really like you. But the book was completely different and oh so good. And considering I got the paperback at a yard sale, it was a very inexpensive vacation. Pick up some Italian takeout or your rumbling tummy will have you clamoring for plane tickets to Italy, ASAP.)

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (Yes I had to check the spelling on that one. It was such a great read. Clever. Heartwarming. Truly captivating and entertaining. Checked it out from the library and upon completion, bought a copy of my own.)

Ok...onto Movies:

Persuasion ( Note the picture above. The version with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds is soooo lovely. The first time I watched it, I wasn't sure if I liked it--it's a rather slow movie--but, something about that story made me start it over. And after the second time through, I was hooked. The. Best. Love Story. (The book is Lovely.)

Sense and Sensibility (I don't mean to be on a Jane Austen trip, but the girl was good. Really good. I love the version with Emma Thomson, but recently discovered the newest BBC version made for television. Such a beautiful film. (I really want to list Emma and Pride and Prejudice as well, but I will restrain myself. Just know that they are brilliant.)


Lord of The Rings (I could have mentioned this with the books, but I was part of the second generation of Ring fans when the movies came out. I devoured the books during my days of eating lunch in my high school art class with all my nerdy Tolkien friends. You know who you are :) But we had fun. And its still a great flick.)

Robin Hood (The one with Russel Crowe. My husband and I went on a date and being an archer himself, he really liked it. I loved the message of faith and conviction behind Robin Hood's character. )

Ok, I'm sure you're sensing a theme. I'm just the Les Mis and King Arthur kind of girl. Give me a bowl of popcorn, a bubbly drink, and a knight in shining armor any day :)

And I'm excited to see what good reads and flicks the new year will hold!

Simply Christmas

Its that time of year where I can't believe there are only a few days until Christmas.

It feels like I was just making turkey and cranberry sandwiches and now, my decorations will be so last week in well...a week!

There are a few more presents to buy, a stack of mail at the post office to pick up, desserts to bake, festivities to plan, a tree to water and there would even be snow to shovel but its decided to rain for the last four days and I hear its not even over!

I just want to slam my foot on the break petal of December. Come to think of it, why not.

I hope you have your seat belt on.

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Just Breathe. Ahhhh. That feels better already.

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So why are we even here? In the midst of this holiday called Christmas, feeling like the world is whirling by in a swirl of snow globes and twinkle lights.

Wasn't there a purpose to all this? You know, the "Reason for the Season." I always see it posted on gigantic signs in church lawns but has it really sunk in this year? Or have I been more focused on the fact that only half the things on my gift-giving list are crossed out and I'm officially one cookie exchange over the cuckoo's nest?

Its time to turn my attention back to the fact that all those years ago, Mary and Joseph were searching for a place to stay. A place where Mary could give birth to her baby boy. I don't think she had aspirations of a stable with animals and a manger. I'm sure she envisioned a snug little bed in an inn with candles, blankets and warm water. All the things she would need.

Or so she thought she needed.

God had a plan and even as they let go of those things, Mary and Joseph brought their child into this world in the most perfect of settings--a humble beginning for the grandest of kings. Can I humble my aspirations enough to truly enjoy this season? Can we take time away from curling ribbon and fluffing garland to remember that this holiday began in humbleness and love.

Because that is where the true joy is found.

Loving friends, loving family and holding on to the true meaning of Christmas; the story of the child who was born into this world, the child they named Immanuel--God with us.

Many blessings and happy Christmas!

Tell me, how do you slow down during Christmas?


Photo credit: The Nativity Story, 2006

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Said the little lamb to the Shepard boy.
Do you hear what I hear?

That song is full of the most beautiful words.

I'm a Christmas song geek. But I admit it with pride. I just love them. Since the day after Thanksgiving, my computer has been eternally fixed on my favorite Itunes Christmas station, Heavenly Christmas. There is something about the songs of the season that help me remember the reason we are celebrating. And my love of this music, as for many of us, goes back to childhood.

My dad is a mailman, and for anyone who has ever been in the delivery service, knows that the fun only gets better as Christmas approaches (just kidding). My dad would come home late every Christmas Eve, exhausted from his duties of making certain that every package and card was safely delivered before quittin' time. Once home, he'd kick off his black boots, jump in a hot bath and my sister and I would be giddy with excitement (In my family, we opened half of our presents on the night before Christmas).

I always remember my parents turning on the festive sounds of Nat King Cole. Hearing that smooth voice fill our little house as we enjoyed sparkling cider in my mom's holiday glasses is a memory I will never forget. And dressed in his jammies, my dad would emerge, refreshed and ready to share some Christmas joy with his girls.

Although I have a love for Christmas music, I'm not real big on the hits you hear on the radio (ok, that was an understatement). In truth, I have an embarrassingly large stack of Celtic Christmas Cd's and a few Bluegrass ones that are pretty fun.

But my husband is not a huge fan of Christmas music. Not because he lacks holiday cheer. I mean, the guy is certainly festive. He hung a nice display of Christmas lights on our house (granted he got to use his staple gun which is practically a power tool) and he always sets up my village for me. But he grew up on a Christmas tree lot and the day after Thanksgiving meant getting his hands dirty, strapping trees to minivans and enduring six weeks of Santa Baby. So I can't blame the guy. Although to his credit, whenever he hears the stations shift into Christmas mode he calls me up from work and tells me the stations. (Definite brownie points.) Then again, the other day he told me he liked a Christmas song. Springsteen's Santa Claus is Coming to Town. I nearly fainted with shock.

I have a lot of favorite songs--Oh Holy Night and The Holly and the Ivy, pretty much take the cake. But recently, while enjoying my new found radio station, I kept hearing music by an artist that plays the most beautiful songs on the piano. His name is Tim Neumark and after hearing several of his arrangements, I immediately went to the ITunes store to download the entire CD. But I only had $1.04 in my account, and after fighting the urge to throw a minor tantrum, chose my favorite one, its a variation on "Do You Hear What I hear?"


It's hands down, one of the most beautiful Christmas songs I've ever heard. I highly recommend giving it a listen as it reminds us that the true meaning of Christmas, is what was lying beneath the bright and shining star all those years in Bethlehem; the child who has brought us goodness and light.

I'd love to hear what your favorites songs and carols are...

(Directions to my favorite station: Itunes Radio-Ambient-Got Radio, Heavenly Christmas)

For more on Tim Neumark and his music, visit Tim's Website

Sinterklass ~ A Timeless Tradition

Have you ever noticed that my last name is Bischof? My husbands family is a happy blend of German and Italian. I've never seen my mother-in-law use red sauce from a jar and when it comes to pizza and pasta to die for...well I've married into the right family. But back to the German side of things. There is a little holiday the Bischof children always celebrated when they were growing up. Aside from spending every Christmas Eve devouring plate loads of Waffles and Brats for dinner, they celebrated Sinterklass on the eve of December 5th.

If you are Dutch, prepare yourself for our American attempt at your holiday ;)

Even in America, some Dutch communities still celebrate this holiday town-wide with a parade where kids wait and watch for Sinterklass on his gray horse.

The way my husband grew up celebrating Sinterklass (More properly known in the Netherlands as Sint Nikolaas or Goedheiligman) was to put a pair of shoes out the night before and in the morning, Sinterklass, a man with a red hat and snowy white beard (sound familiar?) has filled them with treats. I hear my hubby and his brothers and sister would search for the largest, deepest pair of shoes they owned and they would often times put out hay for Sinterklass' horse, sometimes even putting it up on the roof. Boys will be boys. And what kid doesn't like to wake up on December 6th--three solid weeks before Christmas--to chocolates and goodies stuffed in their shoes?

When I first met my husband, as the shoes-out-the-night-before thing faded, my mother-in-law would hand each of us a mug stuffed with yummies and a Christmas ornament or pair of socks on the 6th--so its fun for kids of all ages. And now that there are plenty of grandchildren to spread the magic with, the shoes can return!

This will be the first year we celebrate Sinterklass with our kids and I am excited to tell them about it and watch them put their shoes out and when they go to bed, help Sinterklass fill the toddler size treads with dutch cookies and treats. Of course, only if they have been good ;)

Just plain Christmas fun!

The Writer's Torch: Bruce Judisch

Guest Blogger, Author Bruce Judisch shares about his novel: Katia

CS Lewis once opined that we don’t need more books on theology, we need more books on science and other topics that have a Christian worldview embedded. While his comment focused explicitly on nonfiction, I think the same holds true with fiction, to an extent.

More than one writers’ forum has debated the value of storylines carrying an overt Christian theme—e.g., spiritual rags-to-riches with at least one profound conversion scene—as compared to stories with the Christian theme, or worldview, more subtly interwoven through its fabric. And, as is true with most debatable topics, each side has both strengths and weaknesses.

My first fictional series, “A Prophet’s Tale,” centered on the minor prophet Jonah. Therefore, it necessarily contained a strong overt Biblical message, as I was intent to remain true to the Scriptural account. Although set in a pre-Christian era (8th-century BC), the opportunities to reinforce, and even allude to, Judeo-Christian values were many. It was very enjoyable to write. However, in my latest novel, I took a different tack.

Katia tells the story of vivacious Madeline “Maddy” McAllister, a young American journalism exchange student who is commissioned to write the life story of Katia Mahler, a stoic survivor of post-WWII East Germany. The third major character, Katia’s long-time friend, Oskar Schultmann, facilitates the arrangement.

Raised and homeschooled in a Christian environment, Maddy is a junior at a large state university. She has adapted well—too well, perhaps—to the college and sorority scenes. And, as expected, her faith and her family relationships have eroded as her interests turned inward and her world shrank to herself and a small circle of friends.

Born in a bomb shelter in Karlshorst, Germany, in 1943, the infirm Katia Mahler has survived the deprivation of war and its aftermath, as well as the severe oppression of communist-controlled East Germany. The daughter of a clergyman and herself a staunch Christian, Katia’s faith has sustained her through trials of the worst kind.

Oskar remains in the background until his own secrets draw him into the story in ways he never expected or intended.

When Maddy moves in with Katia, generations and cultures clash, as two personalities shaped by such different worlds and eras struggle to understand each other’s present and past. Katia is formal, reserved and rigid. Maddy is none of those things. As you might expect, such literary ground is fertile for conflict and poignancy—and for much humor. It’s also fertile ground for both the characters and the reader to grow.

As Katia reveals her story, it produces a profound impact on the sheltered Maddy, who comes to recognize a world much larger than she had come to acknowledge and relearns the value of a faith she once cherished. But the lesson does not travel a one-way street. Maddy unwittingly exerts her own influence on Katia, too, who receives so much more than a memoir from the spirited young American.

Finally, Katia is set against a very real backdrop of 20th-century history. Katia’s narrative recounts events through the perspective of how they affected her family: e.g., the Holocaust, the Berlin Airlift, Soviet intervention in Hungary and Czechoslovakia, and, foremost, the construction and ultimate fall of the Berlin Wall. Through this, Maddy also learns the value of a freedom that she has always taken for granted.

Katia, then, is a story not so much of redemption, but of restoration. The Christian moral message surfaces through metaphorical nuggets in Katia’s and ultimately Oskar’s stories, as well as through their interactions with Maddy.

So, it appears I side with Mr. Lewis in my approach to Katia. And that’s pretty good company, don’t you think?

As an aside, I wrote Katia based upon a scene I witnessed in Berlin at the fall of the Wall in 1989. A photo of that inspirational moment, plus a gallery of images from Berlin before, during and after that historic event can be viewed on my Web site at www.brucejudisch.com/katia.htm. I hope you’ll take a moment to visit me there.

For those who might be in the San Antonio area the weekend after Thanksgiving, I’ll be signing books and will have a complete display of Berlin Wall paraphernalia at The Twig bookstore in the Pearl Brewery complex on Saturday, November 27th, from 9:00-11:00am. Oh, and there will be apple strudel—of course!

Apple Recipes

As fall has come upon us, I realized that I truly have a pathetic stash of apple recipes. Any applelicious treats that have blown my socks off were always made by other people. Pie. Cobblers. Crisps. Apple cake. Now, to vamp up my stash of tried and trues, it would be easy enough to google a few or buy a cookbook, but there's nothing like those really good recipes--yummy family delicacies or those home tested favorites.

It's just that time of year to bust out the apple peeler, pull out the cinnamon and spices and dress up these tart and tasty fruits. Homemade crusts call my name and although I think melting a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top is criminal, it should certainly be on hand for those who disagree. (I know I'm weird. You can throw your apple corer at me. I won't hold it against you)

So jump on in and share your favorite recipe and I'll give you mine (as lonely as it is) and I have to admit that this isn't even my recipe. My sister-in-law gave it to me and I have to also confess that she makes it ten times better than I do. I don't know how she does it. They grow their own apples. They're really small and crisp and the crumble topping is buttery and golden and tender all at the same time. OK, now I'm just plain hungry!

Apple Crisp

4-5 medium apples (or 8 small), peeled and sliced
1/4 cup sugar
sprinkle of cinnamon
sprinkle of nutmeg
*cut apples into pie dish and sprinkle with sugar and spices

Crumble Topping:

3/4 cup Quick Oats
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup butter or margarine softened
*mash together with a fork until thoroughly mixed and "crumbly" :)
Sprinkle over apples and lightly pat down

Bake at 350 for 35-40 minutes or until top is golden brown

Pumpkins and Crows

Its that time of year when cobwebs creep up in front yards and felt spiders the size of preschoolers cling to the sides of trees. Grocery stores are bursting at the scenes with bagged candy and costume advertisements make people blush.

I'm not really that into Halloween--I mean the bats and ghosts side of things-- but don't get me wrong, I love this time of year. There's something in the air that makes October just plain fun. Its a time when its perfectly OK to nibble on handfuls of candy corn and blast the Phantom of the Opera from the CD player. (side note--who would have thought you could Jazzercise to the Phantom? Our instructor put together a spooky set for us and I had no idea what the motions were so when in doubt, keep bouncing--and hope no one notices you. And...try not to fall down the stairs. I have a bad habit of standing in front of the stairwell. I've had visions of myself sashaying my way to a rather abrupt demise.)

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, pumpkins and crows. So I love pumpkins on my front porch. I've also developed a little fascination for crows this fall. Not in a scary way, more like the Nanny McPhee kind of way. You know. Cute. But not creepy. I don't know what it is about October--fall is just my favorite time of year. It makes me happy. There's something about living in Southern California that makes one appreciate cold weather. The other day it was pouring and my one and three-year olds were playing on the front porch, soaking wet, happy as tadpoles after a drought. And me? I was sitting in the doorway--trying not to get wet--reading a book. I know, we're weird about rain.

I've already made my first pumpkin pie cake of the season, every morning there's a fire in our wood burning stove and more often than is good for the 'ol waistline, there's a pot of homemade popcorn crackling away on the stove top. (We don't have a microwave but even if we did, it would still be the best way to do it.) We like ours in olive oil with a drizzle of butter and salt. And if we're going all out, homemade cherry cokes with grenadine and maraschinos. Yum! Its the way my dad did. Its the way his dad did it. If it ain't broken...

Yay for October :D

Adventures in Country Living: Shuckin' Corn

We tried to grow corn last year. But after about $40 dollars worth of city water, a million weeds pulled, and all our hopes and dreams riding on the possibility of those golden kernels ready for harvest, my husband and I plucked two, pitiful cobs from the garden that went straight into the compost. Sigh. And since Costco sells organic corn for $4.99 a bag, we decided to go the modern route this year.

But, a friend of mine had an incredibly successful crop and with baby number five on the way, she felt a little overwhelmed by the crates of fresh picked corn on her back porch, so in a moment of near insanity, a few of us girls volunteered to join her in a corn shucking day. The kids loved it. While we tugged off the husks, filling a Red Rider wagon (my husband just reminded me that was a gun not a wagon. I suppose they are more commonly known as Radio Flyers. oops :D) to the brim, one lucky boy got to haul it away. Where it went each trip, I have no idea, but that's the nature of four-year-olds and we'll take whatever help we can get :) Even the littlest kids joined in and with the mommies seated in white rocking chairs, surrounded by homemade cinnamon rolls and hot coffee, the work was rather pleasurable--and the sleeping cat--no that's not a country calendar your looking at.

You know its organic corn--straight off the stalks--no chemicals involved, when the kids are huddled around the glass jar of corn worms, begging to be the one to dump it into the chicken coop. Now, for a former city girl, this would have normally made me squirm, but since I have been inducted into the world of country living--dirt under my fingernails, camo in my closet and all--this did not bother me as much as I expected. Although I must admit, I am deathly afraid of bugs. Rattlesnake...who cares? Crouching tiger...walk in the park. But pair me against a mosquito eater, and I'm pale as a ghost, screaming my head off--arms flailing. My husband thinks its funny.

So while my friends were not afraid to simply pluck the worms from the corn, I, in my citified way, gently tapped the corn cob against the jar. Plunk. Worm removed. No touching required. (I guess some things never change.)

Many hands make quick work and in no time, we hauled the corn into the kitchen and after slicing it off the cobs, blanched it and packed the ready-to-freeze corn into gallon bags. Its amazing how time flies when there's work to be done. We said our goodbyes and while still finding corn kernels stuck to the oddest places, I tucked my tired toddlers (with dirt caked to their Carhartt overalls) into the car and it was back down the dusty road, headed for home. Another day. Another project.

Happy Homesteading! And Happy Harvest!

A Meek and Quiet Spirit

Twice a month I get together with girlfriends of mine and as our ever growing quantity of children play in the yard, we spend a few hours sipping tea, eating homemade cinnamon rolls and talk about whatever book we're reading together. Right now, we are reading Homeschooling With a Meek and Quiet Spirit by Teri Maxwell. What a blessing this book is! And you don't even need to be a home schooling mom to appreciate it!

In her book, Teri describes a meek and quiet spirit--basically meaning, that as mothers, we should strive to be calm, patient and loving as we raise our children--not prone to anger or frustration. For me, it's been an interesting journey--a journey that has changed my life and our whole home. In trying to focus on keeping a meek and quiet spirit with my children, I have seen such changes in my life and I know that my children are the better for it.

But not only does Teri share how we can gain a meek and quiet spirit, she also explains how easy it is to lose one. Yikes! The biggest stumbling block for me: disorganization.

Am I the only mother who has walked into a messy room or passed a junk drawer only to have their blood pressure rise? Ack! Is there no end in sight? Suddenly, the frustration kicks in and our patience and joy---uh, hello? Where did it go?

We're left feeling hopeless.

I have been that person...trying to prepare dinner with a stack of bills at my elbow and a pile of dirty laundry under my feet. So yes, disorganization can be a robber of a meek and quiet spirit.

So what's the solution? I've followed Teri's advice and created a daily schedule. Her schedule is much more detailed than mine, but for now, mine is working very well. I printed it up on a monthly calendar and its taped inside my computer cabinet, a place this writer mama spends a lot of time (hehe). Every day I have only three requirements. Just three things that MUST be done, no exceptions. 1) Bible time with the kids. 2) A chore 3) My son's homeschooling. That's it, pretty simple!

And there is a reason why I have chosen these three tasks.

The homeschooling is a given. My son is still three so we spend about ten to fifteen minutes a day working on letters, numbers or a craft (In an organized, sit down manner). It's just enough time for squirming limbs to sit still, then he's off to play like a rocket. I say organized manner, because he's learning all day long: While we work in the garden, moving firewood with Grandpa, etc.

By including Bible time into our schedule, I can finally carve time out of my day to read the Word and the kids are looking at the pictures in their Bibles along side me. We usually do this before the baby naps as it tends to relax her. We sit for about fifteen minutes on the couch and it doubles as practice for the kids to learn how to sit still. They join us at the beginning of church and have learned to sit through worship pleasantly, then they skip of to nursery for the second half. Also, I had to go to the DMV the other day, and they sat ever so nicely by my side. It was delightful!

One chore is pretty self explanatory. Although we mom's basically clean from morning 'til night, I like to have one important task that must be done each day (I have one day for the bathroom, another for clearing away papers and filing them away, etc.) Thursdays remain open for what I call my "meek and quiet spirit robber day." Whatever around the house is driving me the craziest, gets penciled into that day. My daughters un-closable closet and dresser have been eating at my nerves so I penciled it in last week and today, I completely eliminated the mess...and that meek and quiet spirit robber is no more! Yay! It's a great feeling ;) And my meek and quiet spirit robber chore for next week...let's just say that there's a Land Rover in my driveway that's going to have a showdown with a crazy writer and her shop vac.

But surprisingly enough, there is one task that is not on my schedule...writing. I could write all day if given the chance, but then my children would be running around like wild Amazonian monkeys. I've struggled with this in the past and finally prayed for God to send me a solution. Then somehow, because my schedule is keeping me organized and on track, I have time to write every single day, usually during nap time and it's been a blessing. That worry is lifted from my shoulders and I no longer fear that my writing is taking away from all the other things I should be doing as a stay-at-home-mom. So although I kept my favorite hobby off the schedule to keep it from becoming too much of a priority, the time for it simply fell into place. :)

For more on Teri Maxwell and Homeschooling With a Meek and Quiet Spirit, check out: Titus2.com

Change in Blog Schedule

Chatty Kathy here letting you all know that since I have an incurable habit of writing blog posts long enough to be short stories, I'm going to be spacing out my posts from weekly to about every ten days.

Between looking after my children and working on my third novel, there just aren't enough hours in the day so to keep this issue from becoming a meek and quiet spirit robber, I've marked my calendar just like I would have if I were posting every Wednesday, and I plan on keeping with the new schedule. So what's a meek and quiet spirit robber?...See you this Friday with a new blog post!

Tummy Butterflies and Book Proposals From The SDCWG

This past weekend was the San Diego Christian Writer’s Guild annual Conference—a great place to meet publishers, agents and other authors. We word-nerds tend to get stuck having coffee with our keyboards and characters every day so it’s a refreshing change to hang out with fellow writers who are pursuing the craft of writing and using their gifts for the Lord.

The conference was great this year. Attendees had the pleasure of hearing speakers and authors such as Miles McPherson (Former San Diego’s Charger and Pastor), Lynn Vincent ( New York Times Best selling author. Her collaborative projects include Going Rogue and Same Kind of Different As Me) and many more.

For writers, these conferences are a lot of time spent waiting and preparing for the big day to arrive, then a burst of everything happening at once. That can be very overwhelming. I, for one, was so nervous about my faculty consultation with an agent from one of the best agencies in the biz, I could hardly eat breakfast. And it was a cinnamon roll! But I did force myself to take a few bites and after talking to others around me, I knew I was not the only one who’s nerves were jippity (is that a word? It should be).

So how do we process these moments? How do we let go of our book proposals, while remembering the hours we’ve spent putting them together, and all the times we googled "how to write a book proposal." Not to mention, the months, sometimes years devoted to the shaping of our books, only to have a few minutes to impress an agent or editor with our brilliant pitch and top notch sample chapters. Uh…no pressure.

I was ready to get home, put my feet up, toss my writing portfolio on a VERY high shelf and hang out with my family. But I was in my car, on a highway, and home was a few hours away. Then, while flipping through the radio, I landed on a Christian station and my favorite song was on. It goes something like this: “Savior, He can move the mountains. My God is mighty to save.” So there I was, feeling my energy trickle back and I sat up a little straighter. That’s right, I thought. God can move mountains.

Sometimes we get blessed and the mountain just happens to be our dream come true. Those are special moments in life! Other times, I believe the mountain is our perspective. How many times in life does the situation change completely, not because the dishwasher stopped leaking or the baby magically changed her own diaper, but because our perspective…our attitude changed. Some of the greatest stories I’ve ever read did not end with the protagonist getting exactly what he or she wanted, it ended with the protagonist learning the valuable lesson they were meant to learn—to rely on God.

The Critique Group And The Writer

I'm rather behind on getting more book reviews up and I have several in line to read, but the post office and I are not very...in sync lately. I either smack into the glass doors with the "closed" sign firmly in place, or I beg the postmaster that even though I don't have my collection slip, I know there are packages back there waiting for me. He tries to look, then with an arched eyebrow suggests I return with the collection slip that makes his life a lot easier. Oh well. But I have something that has been brewing in my mind lately, and I'd like to share it with you this week.

Its about the power of the critique group and how it effects the writer. Now, if you're not a writer...if you don't throw abbreviations like "CBA" and "WIP" around in general conversation, you might think this does not apply to you. Even if you're not a writer, there may be a lesson you will glean from this, so stick with me. But if you get bored, you could hop over to another blog, pull up a really good brownie recipe and bring it back here. I'd be very grateful. I have a pot luck coming up.

So back to the critique group. What is that exactly? A critique group is a place where writers get together, pass around a few pages of what they've been working on, and the other folks in the group whip out their pens and mark it up. Its intimidating. Even after attending a group for years, my heart rate quickens as the room silences, heads bowed over my chapter. Nail biting to the max.

But when fellow writers point out the areas in a story they really like and begin to offer suggestions, the writer who listens, can walk away with the realization that even though they thought their work was perfect, many of the suggestions will only make it that much better.

That's the power of a well given critique.

For a novel to find itself in the hands of readers, it must be looked at by someone other than the author. Someone who doesn't have the characters prancing around in their head or know the storyline by heart. Because then, the fresh set of eyes can spot issues that the writer themselves would never see.

But the truth hurts. Of course it hurts--but there is an art to delivery. A person might say. "You have something in your teeth," Loser. Or. "You have something in your teeth. Hey I like your skirt." Who would you rather be friends with?

Like the spinach in the teeth, a good critiquer not only points out issues, they go the extra step--they leave the writer feeling encouraged.

This might seem trivial, and believe me, I know there is a time and place to leave the fluff behind and get to the nitty gritty, but for the everyday, the coffee shops, the living rooms, and the e-mail box, its crucial to offer some congratulatory praise. Even if its hard, find something good in what you see.

There's a reason behind my rambling. If a person's critique is the packet of seeds and the writer's heart is the soil, then the positive comments and praise are what till the soil. Otherwise, the seeds will land on a heart that has not been softened. And if there is anything that I firmly stand by, it is that we as Christians have the calling to be kind in all that we do. Business is not the time to throw that out the window. Be business-like. But be kind.

Christ was and he reached many, many hearts. That is an example worth living by.

Adventures in Country Living: Drying Herbs

Summer is winding down. The arid days are drawing to an end and with a few summer storms prayerfully on the horizon, gardeners and growers everywhere are putting up their garden harvests. Aside from the usual methods of preserving like canning and freezing, drying is an excellent way of storing everything from apple slices to fresh herbs.

Herbs are a delightful addition to any garden. They are relatively easy to grow, can live in convenient containers and are so rewarding to harvest. I love to toss fresh chives and cilantro onto the table as taco fixin's and making rosemary Italian bread at Christmas is a cheery gift for family and friends.

In the past I have only used herbs fresh. But this year, I've put some energy into drying and storing my herbs to use year round. It suddenly struck me one day when I was completely out of Italian seasoning, that I had all the makings of the herb blend right in my garden. So I snipped several sprigs of rosemary, thyme, oregano, basil and parsley, dried them for several days, then crushed the herbs up and tossed them in a glass jar with a pinch of red pepper flakes. Yum! Not to mention, I'd always bought dried herbs from the store. I had never taken advantage of using my own herbs, but when I did, even in their dried stage, they remained bright and green and had a lovely, fresh taste.

For another project, I purchased jumbo teabags on eBay ( I felt like a bidding geek--I mean, who sits there watching the minutes and doing the math to buy a two dollar box of empty tea bags on eBay. Me, apparently) Anywho, the key to drying herbs is that not all herbs are ready when you want them, so be sure to dry them at the peak of their season. I cut handfulls of lavender and chocolate mint (my personal fav) and hung the bundles upside down in an airy spot away from direct sunlight which will kill their potency. I've got the rest of the ingredients for bath teas right in the pantry: oats, Epsom salts and powdered milk (sounds strange but oats and milk have been popular bath additions for years.)

The third use for herbs is medicinal purposes. Now I am not an herbalist, so I have a hard time figuring out the many uses and properties of herbs, but its easy to look on the web and find great sources. My particular favorite is the Bulk Herb Store (check out their Eden Salve. LOVE IT!) This is where I got the recipe for a tincture that is designed to draw out poison and toxins, things like bug bites and beyond. So far it has worked great. I bought a pound of dried plantain and soaked the herbs in a jar of apple cider vinegar for three weeks. After straining away the herbs that have now relinquished their potency to the vinegar, I labeled the jar and it comes in handy all the time.

Drying herbs is fun, satisfying and this is just the beginning. I'm excited to add new and different herbs to my garden each year and study up on their medicinal uses, skin care qualities and yummy recipes for the fam.

Happy Homesteading!

Mount Hermon: A Writer's Perspective

Ever considered attending the annual writer's conference in Mount Hermon? I know I have, but it all seemed so overwhelming. I'm hoping to attend the 2011 conference and I've heard how BIG it is. I have nightmares of pitching my proposal to the cleaning lady and throwing my dirty socks into some editors briefcase. So this week, we're going to sit down with several writers who have gone, experienced, (survived!) and are willing to share their tips and tales.

Dan and Denise Harmer write as a joint venture. Denise, a former stenographer, uses her editing skills to synchronize with Dan’s ability to spin a whale of a tale. They lead the Temecula Writer’s Toolbox as an offshoot of the San Diego Christian Writer’s Guild, were winners of Lamp Post Pub’s 2010 short story contest, and were semi-finalists in Zondervan’s “All about the Story” fiction contest. Both grew up on the beaches of Southern California, where they maintain a laid-back lifestyle while running a cabinet shop, raising their four children, and tending a small ranch. Okay, maybe it does get a little hectic. www.jointventurebooks.com

Tell us a little about your decision to attend the Mount Hermon Christian Writer’s Conference.

Dan - I heard about Mt. Hermon at the SDCWGC and the writer’s critique group and from local Christian writers I’ve met. Five days of workshops, one on ones, and fellowship with editors, agents, and top-selling authors sounded great, but I had no idea. It was even more than that.

Denise – I had heard how valuable an experience Mt. Hermon would be, and I really wanted to meet editors and agents face to face.

As first timers, what surprised you the most about the conference?

Dan - I went with the wrong mindset. I kind of thought this was going to be like a really long job interview. I clutched my manuscript, bought some new slacks and a button down shirt, then set out to pitch my stuff, but I realized some of the best parts of the conference were meeting other new writers just like myself, learning from veterans what good writing sounds like, learning from editors what a marketable product is, and learning from agents, that they are just people, too. They don’t want to shatter your dreams, but if you are willing to listen, they have a lot of wise insights. Here is something to give you an idea of what it is like. You can submit your MS ahead of time to see if a publishing house is interested. (I don’t recommend this for first timers. I’ll explain why later.) The editors have two days to take a look. The majority are sent back with rejection letters. There are actually crisis counselors walking around to pray with people the day the rejections come. People who have traveled halfway across the U.S., their whole church is praying and are convinced that God was going to open a door, and it appears that for the time being He hasn’t. Some folks are destroyed and just wither away. I admit, I struggled with some of this. The funny thing is, there was one particular agent that really hammered me. I felt about an inch tall when she was done. Turns out she was right. Now we are represented by her agency.

I said that I don’t recommend submitting your MS to a publishing house pre- attendance your first year, but there is an option to have staff authors (many bestsellers) give an in-depth critique. Well, what I discovered is if the staff authors like your writing, they will pass it on to the publishing house they think would be interested. So now your MS is warmed up for the editor and you have an open door, and if they don’t pass it on, then you have a great critique. (The publishing houses don’t critique, they just say yea or nay.) Also, you don’t need to submit to editors ahead of time because there will be ample opportunities to share your idea in person with those same folks. When you pitch it in person, you’ll know right away if their eyes light up or not. This also allows for you to get feedback so that in the future you know what kind of writing their house favors.

Denise – I was shocked at how much information was presented and the amount of choices. Really, I wanted to experience all of it, but it was a bit overwhelming.

What advice would you give first timers hoping to attend Mount Hermon?

Dan - The best advice I can give is take advantage of the buddy system. This is where they pair up the rookies with a veteran. Besides that, relax, be yourself, and let the Holy Spirit lead. You will be surprised at who God may have set an appointment for you to meet.

Pray. Go. And be blessed.

Denise – Realize that you will be exhausted when it’s over, but the connections are amazing. Come prepared and ready to listen to advice. These talented speakers and teachers know so much and have a ton to offer if you’ll go with an attitude of learning from them.



Janet Thompson is the founder and Visionary Director of About His Work Ministries, also known as AHW Ministries, and a prolific author and speaker on topics relevant to today's Christian women. www.womantowomanmentoring.com

As a published author, what role did the Mount Hermon Writer’s Conference play in first opening the door to the publishing world?

Anytime someone asks me how to get started writing, I ALWAYS tell them to attend a Writer's Conference, and if you can, go to Mt Hermon! I learned how to write at Mt. Hermon. I wasn't an English or Journalism major and had never considered writing until I started the Woman to Woman Mentoring Ministry at Saddleback Church and other churches wanted to know how I was doing it so I decided to write a How To Kit and took my proposal to Mt Hermon. The Kit didn't get picked up there, but I took every workshop, met with as many editors as I could, and absorbed the whole experience. I came home and wrote the Kit based on all that I had learned and actually self-published for 3 years until it was picked up by LifeWay. Being with LifeWay gave me a speaking platform and mentoring became my brand.

I continued attending Mt Hermon every chance I had because the contacts you make there are invaluable. You actually have meals with editors and agents and set private appointments with them to pitch your project. The fact that you make the effort and expense to attend impresses these editors who come to the conference specifically to find new projects. You also can send proposals ahead and have them critiqued or actually reviewed by an editor of your choice.

In 2003 my idea for Dear God, They Say It's Cancer: A Companion Guide for Women on the Breast Cancer Journey was picked up at Mt Hermon by Howard Books/Simon & Schuster editor. I actually knew when I left that conference that I was going to get a contract, and I did! This book opened the door for a series, and I'm currently writing Dear God, Why Can't I Have a Baby? for Leafwood Press. I also wrote another book with Howard Books, Praying for Your Prodigal Daughter.

I met my agent, Steve Laube, at Mt. Hermon and made many author friends over the years.


Having attended the conference several times, what advice do you have for writers considering attending the conference?

It can seem overwhelming and a bit intimidating at first. There is something going on every waking moment of the day so pace yourself. Go prepared: have proposals ready, be able to give your elevator speech and stay focused. Don't hesitate to approach editors and make appointments with them early in the conference, because that's what they are there for and their calendar will fill up.

Have fun. Dress casual with good walking shoes; it is a camp! It also could rain and the evenings are cool. Check the weather forecast because it's different every year. The food is wonderful, the people are friendly, and you will have a mountain top experience if you don't take rejection personally. I heard allot of no thank you's before the doors started to open, so believe in your project enough to stay persistent and enthusiastic.

Thank you Dan, Denise and Janet for sharing your experience from the Mount Hermon Writers Conference and for encouraging other writers to step out in faith, while taking it all in stride.

Kids (and Moms) Say The Darndest Things!

When I pictured motherhood, I imagined an infant in a clean onesie, a stroller that always looked like it came from the factory and sippy cups that never leaked on my couch.
Yeah. Hardy har har.

The baby showers ended in a flurry of pink and blue confetti then in the blink of an eye, my infants grew into chatter boxes...uh, I mean toddlers.

I knew all kids said funny things, that's why then made a tv show about it. So I expected cute nothings coming out of my little one's mouths...things like "Mommy, the clouds look like cotton candy."
"Yes dear." I'd pat their clean, well combed heads. "You're so adorable, innocent and calm."

But no one ever warned me for the insane things they would DO...resulting in the insane comments that would pop out of my mouth.

I'll share a few:

One day I glanced out the window to find my 3 year old with the hose in his hand. "Please stop watering the chickens." He looks at me like, You do it mommy.
So I'm forced to respond. "Yeah, well mommy does it only when the chickens eat her flowers. There's a difference."

And I'll never forget the embarrassing incident at the market when I had to say, "Levi, You don't pat men's tummys in the grocery store." He looks up at me with large, adorable, confused eyes and once out of earshot, I add, "I don't care how big it is."
I never imagined needing to apologize to a red suspendered man. "Sorry sir. I think he was trying to give you a high-five."
I toss a disapproving look to my son. Apparently sometimes temptation is just too much to take.

Then there's kiddo #2. His one-year-old sister is lighting-fast when it comes to stealing his things...the train off his tracks, the sippy cup from his lap. My son knits his eyebrows together and tells her, "No." Then he often turns to me and says, "Let's take her to the dump."

Believe me son, there's days I would like to. The girls lucky she's so cute. I'm certain that's why God made puppies and babies irresistibly adorable--survival.

I'll be out at a yard sale, or the store and a passerbyer might say, "How much for the little girl?" It's a common joke, you know, 99cents for a pound of apples, $2.00 for that old picture frame, $10 dollars for the kid. I pause as temptation pulls my response in two different directions. I look down at my toddler who is chewing on the box of cereal and has thrown her shoe out the cart two isles back.
My response is usual the same. "Depends on the day."
They smile.
"Somedays, she's priceless. Other days I'd trade ya for that Starbucks in your hand."
Which means, all I have to do is tell my mom "It's a half-price day," for her to know that its been busy, hectic, sticky, messy, squealy and stinky. She hugs me and says, "You're a great mom. I'm so glad I'm the grandma."


I'd love to hear the funny things your children...and their mother say, in hopes that I'm not the only one whose lost my mind (and any sliver of coolness I may have had). Share your stories by posting them in the comment box below and we'll all have a laugh :D

Lemonade Out Of Lemons

You know how people ask you "Where are you going on vacation this summer?"
My answer this year was always the same. "Yosemite!" I was soooo excited. We had just bought a new toyhauler and I had visions of lowering the back, having the breeze bounce off half dome and into my trailer bringing with it the smell of mountain wildflowers. I'd wave to hikers going by and pet little baby bears on the head while my husband wrestled with their mother. Ah. These were my visions of vacation. It was going to be perfect.

Before we left, I had asked Noah's mother what to expect of the drive up there since she'd just gone.
"Will it be green and lush?"
"It would be pretty dry until Fresno, dry in Fresno, then it starts to get pretty."
"Okay." I thought, translating that. "I can make it till Fresno before the great views show up." That's what Ipods are for, right?

Wrong. We drove and drove and drove and as we stared at the dead, dry landscape, I watched the "miles to Fresno" slowly shrink. "We're getting there!" Although the landscape wasn't much, we did enjoy all the acres of grapevines and fruit trees and as Fresno came and went, I rubbed my hands together in anticipation and I blew an imaginary kiss to half dome. Yosemite, here we come!

Between studying the CA map and the roadsigns, it suddenly occurred to me that our campground was mere miles away. 30 miles to go. Then 20, then 10. I continued to study the dry landscape. There were hardly any mountains and very few green trees. "Wow," I said to my husband. "That Yosemite just jumps right out at ya." As I scanned the hills for signs of half dome, I spotted another sign...we were almost there! With a puzzle in my brow, I stared at the map.

As we pulled off the highway into our campsite, we simply stared. I almost started crying. Our families got out of the cars and with mouths ajar, we studied our surrounding--then we started sweating and wiping our brows (another theme of the week). It was dry, dead and brown. No flowers. Hardly any trees.

Where were all the bears? The cabins? The hikers? "Mom," I said, afraid to hear the answer. "Where's Yosemite?" That's when we learned that due to road construction it would be another 3 and a half hours to the valley floor (that's just one way...and with a car full of toddlers). Are you kidding me? Had we really just driven nearly ten hours to camp for a week in a fire hazard?

So, with slow, sad movements, we mopped the sweat from our brows and started to set up camp. That's when we saw a girl walk by in a bathing suit. We followed her damp trail to the end of the campground only to find that a cool, clear creek flowed through the place. As quickly as we could, we threw on our suits and sank into the water. The kids played and splashed and we finally found relief from the hot campground. We didn't dry off for a week.

By the end of our vacation, my children had turned into fish and us adults had invented a game called "water soccer". With hockey-sized goals made out of bent willow, a ball and a half-dozen willing people, we proceeded to kick and splash each other until we were soaked and exhausted. With a few bruised ankles and one broken toe, we had more fun playing water soccer.

And my favorite memory, was one night when my mom, my aunt and I decided to play scrabble. It was one of those games where nothing was going right. You know the game when one player has all the Q's with no U (of course), another has all the vowels and another has all the consonants--with championship quality words like "put" and "hi" we were not getting anywhere. So being the scrabble enthusiasts and rule followers that we were, we decided to invent our own version of the game. There were only two rules: You could only use the letters sitting in your little wooden church pew & the word could NOT be found in the dictionary but must be accompanied with its corresponding definition :) Here's what we came up with:

JELON: (Jay-lawn) a Jello dish from France
TMTRY: (Tem-etry) a form of math, much harder than Trig (of course!)
ZOOO: (pronounced just as it sounds) a VERY LARGE zoo
BAOM: (Bay-om) Emeril's "Bam", but with a southern accent
ZEAD: A man from the old testament
GLAVT: A horse from the Lord of The Rings
my mom came up with the word ECNS and on my turn, I added a few letters making it QECNSOUX which of course made it French. It had to be the most fun we'd ever had playing scrabble.

Needless to say, there wasn't a whole lot that went the way we had planned that week, but all we could do was roll up our sleeves, have a laugh and make the best of it and by bending our expectations, we found out that we ended up having a lot of fun. It will be a vacation we never forget!

My Garden ~ Growing Potatoes

The hardest part about this blog post was not preparing my scraggly spuds for planting, it was looking up how to spell the word "potato". Growing Potatoes...hmm to "e" or not to "e" that is the question. Once I figured out how to spell that bugger of a word, I was ready to proceed with sharing my experience on growing potatoes.

I wish I could say that I have an abundant crop of potatoes enough to feed an army, but that's just not the case. I'm not quite sure where I have gone wrong, but they just don't seem very impressive...I mean, its quite clear from the photo that they are all large, of similar size and color, ok, just kidding.

So what spurred me onto the idea of growing potatoes? Well I read that potatoes are one of the worst vegetables to buy through conventional growers--meaning, they're quite covered in pesticides from the soil. Ick! And since I don't live near a farmer's market (sigh) I decided to dedicate some space in my garden to these multi-eyed babies.


This year, our garden contains red potatoes, russet and Yukon gold, one variety which is residing in a half-barrel so all we have to do is dump over the barrel once they're ready and harvest with ease. Its still too soon, but I'll be back to update this post on the success of that method. Seed potatoes come pre-sliced and ready to plant, but you can also buy organic potatoes, slice them in chunks and let the cuts dry out for a few days before planting. I've tried both methods and have had up and down results no matter what I try. So while I am still far from being crowned the spud expert, I think potato growing is fun and relatively simple. Now I just have to master the art of reaping in abundant crops of the little guys and I know that if I keep trying, in time I will!

The other day, I skimmed from several different locations to come up with our dinner and I think a mixture of different varieties makes for a nice presentation. We wrapped the potatoes, a handful of green beans, (both green and yellow!) and some amazingly good carrots--all from our garden =) in tinfoil, topped with garlic salt, pepper, and butter then cooked the little package on the BBQ. It made for a beautiful array of summer veggies, which I am quite proud to say that my children thoroughly enjoyed. (Woohoo! My kids eat vegetables.)

Disclaimer: they only really eat them if they are out of the garden. I guess that goes to show that there truly is a difference in taste! They plowed through my spring peas like they were candy, and fight over carrots that I pluck, rinse and offer them whole. My 1-year-old likes to hold them by the green tops, making for a rather droopy, difficult, yet completely adorable method of eating.

The point is, what my potato crop lacks in quantity, it makes up in taste and texture! The great thing about home grown potatoes, is that the skin is quite tender and very delicious. If you're not in the BBQ'ing mood, just rinse 'em carefully and cook them in a little water with the skin on, then saute them a minute with butter, salt and pepper and garlic or fresh herbs. I promise you, if you give potato growing a shot, you will not regret the quality of your home grown potatoes and will never look at those gigantic store bought spuds the same again.

The Writer's Torch: Lynnette Bonner

I grew up loving to read, but when it came to writing, I honestly wasn’t that dedicated. I often hear writers say something along the lines of, “I wrote my first story when I was only 8, and I never quit writing after that.” When I hear something like that I think, “Wow, that’s dedication.” I wasn’t like that. Sure I wrote my share of stories growing up, but it was an on again, off again relationship.
I always loved fiction and would read for hours in high school. But I didn’t start writing until about 1993 after my first son was born. Even then, I didn’t seriously pursue the craft until probably 1999. I completed Rocky Mountain Oasis around 2000 and shopped it to several (okay, about a million) publishing houses and agents. If they were in Sally Stuart’s Christian Writer’s Market Guide and said they were looking for historical fiction, they probably got a proposal from me. Then the rejection letters started trickling in. Publishing houses said, “Unfortunately, we find we must decline the opportunity to publish this project.” Agents said, “With great regret, I must pass on this opportunity….” And I began to realize the mountain I was attempting to climb.

Then in late 2001 a small e-book publisher said they wanted to publish the book! I was thrilled. The contract was good and didn’t require me to sign my first born away, so I signed with dollar signs dancing in my head – after all, the internet was booming! Surely my wonderful story would take off and I would soon be known world-wide, right? Well, ahem, I made about 90 cents before the company went out of business a couple months later, and those were sales to my neighbor down the street and my brother, I think.

When the e-book publisher went belly-up, I was back to square one. By that time, I was homeschooling my two oldest kids and had a toddler to boot. Writing got put on the back burner. 2003 ushered in the birth of our daughter and in 2004 we moved from Idaho to Washington. I was still homeschooling and not writing. But through all those years I just kept praying about Rocky Mountain Oasis. I told the Lord the book was in His hands (I’m pretty sure He already knew this.) And that if He had given it to me just to help me through those tough, stressful years, I would try to be content with that. But I kept asking Him to direct my steps where the book was concerned. I specifically remember praying that if the Lord wanted this book to be published He would need to “drop a publisher in my lap” because I didn’t have time to shop it around again.

My mom is also a writer and she called me up one day in early 2007 to tell me about a new publisher on the scene, OakTara. One of her critique partners, Linda Reinhardt, had just gotten a contract with them. I checked them out and they had super simple submission guidelines, so I zipped up my file and fired it off to them. (Problem – their guidelines didn’t call for zipped files.) By December I still hadn’t heard from them – and I thought, “Well, I’ll try sending it to them with the files unzipped. Duh! So at midnight on December 23rd, 2007 I fired off another cover letter with my now almost 8 year old baby attached. They were the only publisher I’d submitted to in 6 years.

Since OakTara’s guidelines at the time said to expect to hear from them within 8 weeks of submission, I pretty much gave up when I hadn’t heard anything by April. Then on June 9th, 2008 I got the email that stopped my heart for a couple beats before it started pounding again like a herd of wild children. (Ooops, horses! I meant horses.) Words cannot describe the thrill of reading, “Rocky Mountain Oasis is precisely the type of novel OakTara is interested in -- quality fiction, from a fresh perspective – and we’d like to offer you the opportunity to join OakTara’s growing stable of authors.” I didn’t come off that high for several days.

As I look back, I can totally see how the Lord brought my right to the publisher that He had planned for me. There is no doubt in my mind. I’m so glad that I just trusted Him and kept putting my journey back into His hands. (Yes, I tried to pull it back a couple times, I’m sure.)

So for other up-and-coming authors out there, let me just encourage you to keep putting your writing journey into the hands of the one who can best shape it. You will never be sorry.

Adventures in Country Living: Dutch Oven Cooking

100 years ago, along the path from the east to the west, came thousands of families traveling in a wagon with less cargo spaces than some refrigerators I've seen. They packed up what little they could tuck into nooks and crannies and set off on the journey of a lifetime. The supplies they packed varied, while some may have valued a prized fiddle or sewing machine, others clung to family portraits and hand-me-down cradles. But what most every family packed, was the key to cooking on the open plains--a Dutch oven.

Imagine standing over a campfire and relishing in the ability to bake breads, cakes and rolls, and cook stews and cobblers. The Dutch oven truly is a remarkable tool.

These are the images that come to mind when I think of a Dutch oven, but Dutch ovens still have their place in the here and now. Our family just got home from two week-long camping trips. And while my washer and dryer are working over time, our Dutch oven is tucked snugly in its home inside our trailer, resting from several weeks of feeding everyone.

The Dutch oven is my husband's baby. He's the campfire man. He can start one in a heartbeat, I've even seen him do it without a flame. He's basically like an over sized boyscout. But he's our resident chef when we go camping and he knows how to whip up more than one crowd pleaser. He pretty much does all the work, and I'm mostly allowed to observe. I think its a guy thing. They love cooking in the great out doors--BBQ's, can of beans tossed into the campfire, fish grilling in tin foil on the side of a stream, it doesn't matter where they are, they were born to cook in the great out doors.

But the guy makes a mean breakfast quiche, he learned it from his brother (who also makes an amazing stew), and when I asked my husband for the recipe so I could blog about it, he stared at me like a dear in headlights with this look like "I can't believe your going to give away my secret." So I'll just blurt out the ingredients, and run like the dickens in the opposite direction: egg, cheese, sausage, bacon, potatos. That's all I'll say, but if you see him, you might be able to work the details out of him, or just bring him camping. He's already had several offers..."um honey, did you pack the tent and the marshmallows, oh and the cast iron guy whose going to feed us like kings?"

So I'll share another recipe and it's as simple as, well, dump cake.
My favorite is blackberry-rhubarb. I like to cut fresh rhubarb from the garden, cook it down for thirty minutes with sugar then freeze it in quart containers, but the beauty about this way-too-easy cobbler is that the fruit combinations are endless.

Dutch Oven Dump Cake:
First, start coals by lighting a fire in a pit or using charcoal.
A 10 or 12 inch Dutch Oven work great. Grease the inside of the oven, or insert a greased foil liner.
Dump in 2-3 cans of pie filling or fruit and 1-2 packages of cake mix (depending on the size of the Dutch oven)
Pour over a stick of melted butter or spread diced butter evenly on top
No need to mix or stir anything!

When working with a fire pit, it helps to use a heat proof glove, like a welding glove and a lid lifter is a must. With the lid on the oven, set it gently on a small bed of hot coals, place more coals on top (more on top than on bottom if you like a nice golden-brown crust)and allow to cook for about 45 minutes, give or take. Rotate the Dutch oven as needed so the sides cook evenly and replace or remove coals as necessary to regulate heat.

This is not an exact science. The rate at which the Dutch oven cooks ranges depending on the amount of coals, heat of the coals, and the weather. The fruit will begin to bubble up and that's good. When the cake is set and as golden as you like, its done. Allow to cool slightly and serve with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream for those people who like runny vanilla ice-cream on their cobbler, but I'm weird, and I like it just the way it is ;)

Happy Homesteading!

A Very Country 4th

We celebrated the Forth of July Country Style. Some dear friends of ours have a lovely farm in the country. Literally, their home is the very last house on a rural dirt road which means they have only one neighbor and the 300 degree view from their back porch of the untouched mountains is stunning.

For most of the day, my son ran around in his bathing suit on the lawn chasing kids both older and younger, squirt gun in hand, water balloons flying past his head like little torpedoes. I don't think the kids stopped for a breather all day, except when it was time to eat. And then, I don't think anyone could have resisted that spread.

The enormous BBQ hauled in on the back of a vehicle was large enough to feed everyone with chicken, ribs and lamb drizzled in the most wonderful homemade BBQ sauces. Pots large enough to hold a couple of youngins held more corn than I have ever seen in one place in my life and with plenty of entrants in the cobbler and pie competition, there were desserts-a-plenty. My dad was eager to join in on the judging and as he walked around the table, sampling the cobblers with his fork, I don't think he could have been happier. The Lemon pie won, but I was too busy nibbling on peach cobbler that had been freshly baked in a dutch oven over a hot fire then topped with hand churned vanilla ice cream, I forgot to nab myself a slice of the winning entry before it vanished.

As everyone enjoyed the meal, a handful of toddler girls waddled about with chubby legs and ribbons in their hair. With watermelon juice still dripping from her chin, my daughter wandered from picnic blanket to picnic blanket, seeing what bites of food the kind folks would offer a doe-eyed, dimple-cheeked one-year-old. Needless to say, I don't think she had any room left in her little tummy by the end of the day.

As the meal came to a close, folks shared patriotic readings, poems and songs and when that was wrapped up, a gaggle of barefooted, sun-tanned kids hopped onto the flat bed truck for a trip down to the creek. I have no idea what they did down there, but when my three-year-old returned, he was wet, a little muddy and very happy. At that moment I figured he'd probably sleep for a week.

Earlier on in the day, names went up on a board in preparation for the shotgun competition. My honey did quite well in the shootout, making it all the way to the semi finals before getting knocked out of the competition. He has the bruise on his shoulder to prove it. His brother took the championship, shooting through four rounds of competition at twenty-five clay pigeons each round. I bet his bruise is bigger :-) Later on, some of the shooters took part in a twenty-one gun salute. My husband and dad were among the few who lined up for the series of shots in front of the garden...it was VERY loud...things you can only pull off in the country ;-)

As the sun sank on the 4th of July, the s'mores sticks came out and by the time the fire was crackling, a group of kids were huddled around the pit with eager hands. With my friend doing graham cracker duty and me on Hershey bar duty, we managed to sandwich those golden (sometimes rather charred) marshmallows up before any kids realized we actually only had 4 skewers. Even so, those too impatient to wait for a skewers, found a stick long enough to satisfy their s'mores cravings (several adults included) Meanwhile, the guitars came out and as we sang songs around the campfires. The littlest ones drifted off to sleep while the older ones were told they could have no more s'mores but if they were still hungry we had plenty of graham crackers and corn on the cob.

I realized just how late it was when my dad got a little droopy eyed, guitar still in hand. We packed up the picnic blankets and loaded up the kids. My dad managed to stay awake in the car, but my children were asleep in the car seats, with sticky stuff still on their faces, before we were out the driveway.

A Soft Answer

I had a bit of a rough day yesterday. So I decided to journal about it...on my blog. And since I can write about Vatever I Vant, I figured why not?

Anywho, yesterday definitely won't be filed away as one of my favorite days of all time. In fact, I got my "feel feels" hurt. Thumb + finger to forehead=loser...that sort of feeling. But seriously, it turned my day into a rotten banana.

For anyone who knows me, I'm rather a tender soul (sniff, sniff) and I take things to heart pretty easily. I could never be a movie star. One bad tabloid picture and I'd be draped over the bed, box of Kleenex in hand and a six pack of Hershey bars...well wrappers, strewn about.

It got better, though. A lot better.

First, I had a ridiculously therapeutic hour of sweating my Nike's off at Jazzercise. (Yeah, I Jazzercise and no, there are no headbands or leotards involved anymore.) In fact, we rocked out to some pretty good dance music. Which brings me to my second point. During a lovely cool down to the sound of Michael Bublé, the thought struck me--"Stop fuming about it."

"What?" I glanced at the other Jazzercisers but knew it was just the voice inside me. "Yeah, it's not going to go away and you certainly have no possession of a time machine, nor do you have any friends smart enough to invent one (no offense, friends), so move on." But really, I didn't know how to move on and with this thought process rolling around in my mind, I realized that I was so busy running away from the sliver in the eyes of others, that I smacked right into the log in my own. It really hurt! So I sat there last night, frozen peas pressed to forehead, thinking about what's really the core of all this.

And that's when I realized the lesson I was meant to learn: Sometimes, even as Christians, we forget to be nice.

Gasp! No, it's true. And I found myself very, very at fault of that.

I thought over some of the times that I responded in a rather not-so-nice-way towards others and the sting of shame burned hot. I imagined all the people that I had hurt with my words--words spoken in the heat of anger, without thinking or weighing the consequences of how it would make the other person feel.

Now, the bump on my head was really starting to throb and I knew I needed to ask for God's forgiveness. I did, and the best part is that I know he did. Now about the people I've hurt. My motto in a tough situation has often been "Kill 'em with kindness." I don't always heed that advice (obviously), but from now on, I'm going to pin it to my heart as a reminder that a soft answer turns away wrath and a kind word is sometimes just what someone needs.

After the way I felt yesterday, the icky feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realized that I never want to be rude or unkind to anyone again. I don't know if that's actually possible, but then I figured--why not? Isn't that the example that Christ lived out on earth--the one we're supposed to follow?

Besides, it's not as if I witnessed someone running over a basket of newborn kittens. In fact, all those times that I was SOOO offended, weren't really that big of a deal to begin with. I could have shrugged it off, better yet laughed it off, and moved on with kindness towards others. And then of course there's that other golden rule: you can't help what others do, you can only help what you do. Ain't that the truth. I'm going to try, really, really try, to keep Jesus' love as the filter in front of my lips so that I can think BEFORE I speak and treat other's the way I would want to be treated.

Blessings!

Photo credit: Pride and Prejudice, 2005

Book Review: Here Burns My Candle

I am one of those people who eagerly awaited (rather impatiently) Liz Curtis Higgs' most recent Historical novel: Here Burns My Candle. Set in Edinburgh Scotland, 1745, the romantic tale follows the Bible story of Ruth and Naomi.

I would highly recommend this book as it is an important reminder about the value of relationships in our lives, taking the reader beyond the love between a husband and a wife and into the bonds between family. It is a beautiful tale filled with the rich detail of Scotland and bustling Edinburgh.

Following in the path of Liz's previous Scottish Fiction, Here Burns My Candle is well worth the read!

Liz Curtis Higgs

My Writing Playlist

It's the score to the words I write. The symphony behind the pages.


No, you probably wouldn't see Fernando Ortega trapsing around the Blue Ridge Mountains dressed up in hillbilly garb...but that doesn't mean his music doesn't play a roll in the scenes I write, helping me set the mood--sometimes sad, other times dramatic. Whatever the emotion I'm trying to put into my charachters, music plays a huge roll.

I call it my Writing Playlist.

Everything from the rock of Gavin DeGraw and the Fray to the old-time bluegrass of Alison Krauss and Nickle Creek to worship with Casting Crowns and the David Crowder Band.

Whenever I have writer's block (which happens rather often as the mother of two little ones) I throw on my ipod, head out for a walk and let the music transport me to another time and place...away from peanut butter and kiddie pools...to the drama of the worlds I'm trying to create--whether it's an upbeat musical scene or a tense, heart-wrenching goodbye. The music takes me on a mini writer's vacation. One where the scenes play out in my mind like the climax of a movie and suddenly the writer's block vanishes.

The playlist is always evolving. Often I dedicate a particular song to a single charachter. It becomes their theme. When I need to draw that charachter out of my mind and onto the computer, I put on their theme song and I'm instantly swept up in their world, their emotions, their purpose.

Then there are the songs and sounds that are not on my Writer's Playlist but exist within the world around me: a symphony of summer crickets coming out just after sunset, the husky voice of leather-skinned grandfather, the sound of bacon frying in a cast-iron pan. These sounds do not have on and off buttons and cannot be downloaded for a fee at my heart's desire--but exist only in the moment, and it is by the grace of God that He gives us these moments, these glimpses into another world, time and place. A world where our imaginations can run wild.

The Writer's Torch: Elizabeth Wiens

My name is Elizabeth Wiens, and I’ve been married to my wonderful husband, Gary, for twenty-three years. Together we have four daughters, so I’m sure my husband is looking forward to the day when he can welcome a few young gentlemen into the family. Most of our married life, we have been involved in full-time ministry, raising our own support as home missionaries. For sixteen years we served in children’s ministry with Child Evangelism Fellowship, and the last two years we’ve been working with GoodSeed Canada. We have been blessed to be able to involve our daughters in ministry from the time they were little, serving together as a family.

For as long as I can remember, I have always loved to read. I love the way talented authors have the ability to draw a reader into their fictional world and make their characters come to life. I start to feel that the characters are my friends, as I live their adventure. Story is a powerful tool. It not only entertains, but has the ability to affect the reader with its underlying message. Jesus often used stories to teach. I love stories that challenge me to think more deeply about my life and attitudes. Books that challenge me to live a more godly life are a blessing. They convict and encourage me long after the last page is turned and the book is returned to the shelf.

Years ago, as a young mother, I began writing stories with my twin sister. We developed a love for creating characters and transforming our experiences into stories. Many hours were spent huddled over a notebook, which we passed back and forth trying to capture just the right words to express our thoughts. That was the beginning, and I’ve loved working to convey a message through the written word ever since.

As my girls reached school age, my family embarked on a new adventure, one that we have come to feel passionate about—the adventure of homeschooling. We have now been homeschooling for fourteen years, and I wouldn’t trade those years for anything. It was not always an easy journey, and the decision to train up our children at home challenged my husband and me in many ways. Having gone through the public system ourselves, we had to rethink our whole approach to education and God’s plan for our family. Gary and I came to realize the vast difference between a secular education, and one that is founded on Scripture and presents a biblical worldview. The more we studied Scripture and tried to apply its principles to our family, the more we realized how much we had bought into the world’s thinking. It has been quite the journey, one I felt compelled to share with others.

And so my writing began again, and Bringing Them Home started to take shape. However, I did not merely want to write an entertaining story. For the story to have purpose, it must challenge others as I have been challenged. Woven through the lives of my fictional characters, I wanted to include a definite message for Christian parents. I strongly believe that God has given parents the responsibility to raise their children for Him, and it needs to be intentional. As such, it is my desire to encourage parents who read my story to prayerfully consider how their children are being educated and to realize that no education is neutral. A child's education, and the environment in which they are educated, will play a large role in shaping their worldview—whether biblical or unbiblical. It is also my desire to help others understand what homeschooling is about, and to encourage homeschooling families in the spiritual mentorship of their children. That was the message I felt compelled to share.

Now the fun part—the development of my characters, the Knight family. Cassy and David Knight have four children who started out in the public school system. Through a series of events and much prayer, they decide to bring them home, though Cassy feels very uncertain about taking on this new role of teacher for her children. Especially for her 8-year-old son, Jeremy, who hates school. Bringing Them Home follows the Knight family through the many adjustments encountered in their first year of homeschooling and all the surprises along the way.

As a writer, I get very involved in my characters’ lives. I think that is natural, as writers spend so much time getting to know their characters as they try to develop each one’s personality. Each member of the Knight family became dear to me as I struggled through their experiences alongside them. Sometimes they developed a mind of their own and they surprised me with what popped out of their mouths. That’s the fun part—when my characters unexpectedly make me laugh or cry. I can especially relate to the Knight family, because their journey reflects so much of my own.

When I finished Bringing Them Home, I knew my story could not end there. That was just the beginning of the Knight’s journey into homeschooling, I had to tell the end. That is why I have gone on to write a sequel, which follows the Knight family in homeschooling through the teen years and courtship. As For Me and My House reflects our current journey, one which has led us counter to our culture as we seek to honor God as a family.

As far as my writing “career”, I don’t know where it will take me. That is in God’s hands. I don’t feel a need to become a best-selling author, or to write a pile of books in my lifetime. When I feel God moving me to write something He has given me a vision for, I write, and it’s up to Him to do with it as He will. I seek only to honor God with my life, and to encourage others to do the same.

Visit Elizabeth and learn more about Bringing Them Home at her website:

www.elizabethwiens.com