Burdenofglory’s Weblog

I have not instituted many traditions in my home, compared to the average Hinrichs, but I did make up one:  The Valentine’s Day Dinner.  I cook a nice meal, we actually eat in the dining room, light candles, use clean plates – the works.

This year sneaked up on me.  Yesterday, I realized Marcus will be at Lincoln’s home show Wednesday through Sunday, and I’m at teen parents on Tuesday.  That gave us one free night – tonight!  The children had already requested buttons (knephla in German), so I knew what to make.  Buttons are basically a noodle made with flour, salt, eggs and water.  All you do is boil them, and serve them with cream and homemade croutons.  They sound odd, but when you eat them you feel like a little kid, snuggling on your grandma’s lap.  You serve sausage on the side.  My mom is not a believer, but they grow on you.  She said they were better this year than last. We made a salad for her.  The rest of us just kept eating more buttons.  Pishaw on the salad.

No one could land on dessert, so I made one of my favorites:  Kelli’s Lemon Bars in the old Zion cookbook.  With 3 lemons, they made our eyes squint and forced “oooooo’s” and “aaahhhh’s” to escape from our smiling lips.  Ashley mentioned chocolate strawberries, so Maddie created the most comical strawberries I’ve seen.  You will agree.

I didn’t really institute my tradition so we had a chance to eat a meal in style (style is relative), but to give us a chance to appreciate one another.  Over the course of the day, we all think about the reasons we love each other, and write them down on slips of paper.  We put our papers next to everyone’s plates, and read them before we eat.  It is really special to all of us.  Almost.  Rebecca wrote on Dad’s slip of paper, “Dad, I love you intentily, beatifully, swerfully.  Rebecca  P.S. Good job working.”  My slip of paper from her said she loved me even though I disciplined her.  Thanks, I think.

I also get everyone little gifts.  It used to be candy, but now I try to be more creative.  I was wondering why I had escalated the gifting part of the evening when I was late picking the kids up from school, and not finding what I needed at Super Target.  But after seeing Renae and Simon, and discovering strawberry-pomegranate and peach-pear Italian sodas, what I found made up for what I couldn’t find.

We ended the evening by watching High Society with Grace Kelly, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Louis Armstrong.  The movie wasn’t great, but the company was good.

I woke up at 7:30 this morning, thinking I really should have started making pies yesterday.  But I didn’t.  I visited with a friend, made supper, went sledding, and watched a movie.

I started on the Dutch Apple Pie, from the New Best Recipe Cookbook. Then on to Lemon Meringue Pie, from the same.  Finally, Kelli Kerns’ Apple Pastry Squares from the new Zion cookbook.  I submitted them for her.  I used pie cherries, which makes this Marcus’ favorite dessert.

We’re off to Marcus’ folks, to spend the day.  Merry Christmas Eve, everyone.

The girls were not pleased with the change in our backyard topography after we used our great sledding hill for a walk-out basement.  But when you have a layer of ice on the snow, and it is hovering around 0 degrees, you don’t need much of an incline.  The only problem was no steering or stopping, unless you ran into a tree at the edge of our property.  That led to tearful results.  Mom, Rescuer of Some Unfortunate Situations, will venture out tomorrow to find a path that doesn’t run right into the stately elm.  It is going to be warmer tomorrow.  Isn’t it?

The girls have been waiting for snow since October.  The younger girls want to be in it; the older girls just want to gaze at it from the window.

After lunch Maddie and Rebecca prepared to go out.  They bundled up somewhat, and then I bundled them up more(Rebecca had a windbreaker on).  Then their Polly Pockets were dressed for their arctic expedition.

Then they made a fort under the white pine.

After they played about an hour in practically subzero temperatures, Dad found them and handed them shovels.

Almost a perfect snow day.

I bought this antique bowl from Bill, an antique-dealer friend of ours.  It has a crack in it, so is worthless to collectors, and was priced to sell.  I thought is was OK when I bought it, but it has really grown on me since then.

The design on the side of the bowl is puzzleweed, or pull-aparts.  When we moved out to our acreage almost 12 years ago(could that be right?), Kelli asked me if we had seen any “pull-aparts.”  I didn’t think so, but as she explained that you could take the separate sections of the stem apart and put them back together, I realized that is what my kids had been playing with while I was working in the garden.

There you have it.  And if that isn’t enough, here is a freebie:  my favorite bowl with its reflection.

I hope I remember to do all the other stuff I’m supposed to be doing besides taking pictures this month.

In 3 minutes, the December ‘08 Photo Project begins.  I should be in bed dreaming up creative photos and accompanying blogs, but emergency homework and noncomplying computers kept me up.  Why does there have to be “emergency” homework?  Why can’t they just get it done the first day of vacation,  instead of right before midnight of the last day?  Why did I do the same thing in college?  Why do I have to remember how irresponsible I used to be, when there are so many other things I’ve forgotten?

Hopefully I remember to post a picture the first 25 days of December, which is what the photo project is all about.  See you later today.

I could start raking.  Or just wait for a good wind.

Did you know the Chinese Ring-necked Pheasant has been in South Dakota for 100 years?  Me either, until Marcus received a post card from South Dakota announcing this.  The postcard states:  ROOSTER!  Less Than Eight Weeks Away!

I love fall, but not like Marcus.  Marcus doesn’t take off work for much, but he does for hunting.  One long weekend in South Dakota, and one short weekend.  But mostly he hunts around here.  Marcus knows most of the farmers in our area, and calls them about this time of year to ask permission to hunt on their ground.

Marcus always enjoyed the Westminster Catechism question about how man is supposed to have dominion over the animals.  He always made sure the girls knew this referred to pheasant hunting.  I can’t say I fully understand why Marcus loves hunting so much.  But I do know he loves walking in the fields in the fall.  He loves working with a good hunting dog.  He loves our Midwest sunsets after a day in the field.  He loves the camaraderie with the other hunters.  And he really loves coming home with a bird, or a great story about how Tobey got his limit right before they had to quit for the day, and they had been skunked until this one last slough.  Or how his daughter kept right up with the guys.  She was probably the only one who accessorized that day, though I’m not sure which pair of earrings went with hunter orange.

Speaking of hunting, the trap shoot and game feed last weekend was a hit.  About 50 guys showed up even with the British-like weather.  They put an awning up over the shooting range, to keep everyone dry.

It is impossible to tell how many shells were shot up, but our estimate was high.All the guys seemed to enjoy the gamey food, even though many wondered exactly what they were eating.  Howard Huffman brought marinated deer roasts with gravy and deer chili.  Roger Steinmeyer brought deer burgers and deer steak.  Jeff Downing brought burn-your-tongue-raw hot deer sausage.  He had given us some earlier, so I knew better than to try it again.  The package doesn’t indicate it is hot, and I served it to some visiting kids.  We all spit it out as soon as we tried it.  Thanks, Jeff.

Marcus made his famous marinaded, bacon-wrapped grilled pheasant.  If you haven’t noticed, the key to eating game is to make it taste like something else.

I have come to the conclusion that I don’t have to like hunting or pheasant to appreciate the joy it brings to others.  I will celebrate the Pheasantennial at home, by the fire, this winter.