Unpacking to Pack!

We've been busy the last few days culling, cleaning out, donating, selling, and packing. In addition to planning for the move, we are preparing for the regional biannual campout. We leave early tomorrow morning.

So it wasn't until today that I realized I had already packed several items I need for the campout into moving boxes! I had to dig them out and retrieve them. It's hard in some ways because we have two weeks left before the closing. I want to get a head start on all the packing, but then things will be inaccessible for weeks. It's a challenge to accurately assess whether I will need a given item in the next 14 days!

Ladies Club and Graduation

Congratulations Jeff!

Another "degree" to add to the wall! After many years of not having Spokesman's Club available, Jeff finally had the opportunity to complete the program. He also served as secretary for the club year, which was even more challenging than passing all the speeches sometimes!

(Here he is showing excellent use of gestures during his speech ;-)

It was a fun evening, and I'm very proud of you Darling!

Packing it all in...

The reality of having to actually pack and move is just starting to set in. The house sale is still moving forward, although with bumps and hiccups along the way. Nothing is final or feels settled yet, which just makes the process more difficult. When we sold our last house "by owner", the communication was much more open. We also leased the house back for a month after closing, so we had plenty of time to adjust to selling and moving. We also had a professional moving company (paid for by Jeff's job) do the work!

So, any moving tips for us? We still have most of the professional moving boxes (especially the nice wardrobe boxes with the hanging bar) and lots of rolls of packing paper stored. Someone recommended some bankers boxes too, because they are sturdy and easy to carry and access. I might call a liquor store and see if they have any compartmentalized wine boxes in which to put glassware and such. Our pro movers wrapped all the furniture in some kind of giant "cling wrap" stuff to protect upholstery and finishes; I might look into something like that for the leather sofa and fine wood. And I've seen ads for these forearm straps that help hold and support the load of big, bulky items; anybody out there ever try these?

Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug

Jeff and I worked several hours at the farmhouse Sunday afternoon. It was hot and humid (of course), and I'm still not over my cold. I didn't realize how out of energy I was until I was carrying load after load of linoleum and underlayment across the porch.

I say "load", but all I could manage was about one scrap at a time. It was heavy and slippery and sticky, all at the same time. I only had to carry it about 15 feet and hand it over the porch railing to Jeff so he could heave it into the dumpster. I was even in the shade! But it still took just about everything I had. And to add insult to injury, the pieces of lino had odd jagged remnants that kept slipping down and scratching my legs. I came away with several battle scars and a tingling sense of deja vu...

(cue the dreamy flashback music and soft cloudy images)

Back in our Arkansas bungalow, we had to redo the living room ceilings. We stripped two layers of acoustical tile off, hoping to reveal plaster. Nope, just the lath and some furring strips.

So plan B was 12 foot sheets of drywall, to minimize the number of seams necessary. We planned a few strategic days off and rented a drywall jack to accomplish the task. And then I got sick. Really sick. But the work had to go on.

Did you know that a drywall jack only lowers to about six feet off the ground? And that 12 x 4 sheets of drywall weigh over 80 pounds? And that a sick Sarah can't lift an awkward 40+ pounds over her head? Nope, neither did we.

I think that one sheet in the above photo was probably the extent of my contribution. After the second or third try, I ended up curled up on the floor sniffling and snotty and sneezing and crying. I just wanted to go to bed. So Jeff called in the sturdy teen reinforcements.

They made the whole project look fairly easy. Except the same drywall jack that couldn't lower enough for me couldn't raise enough for our 10 foot bungalow ceilings. Did you know most drywall jacks are only meant for eight foot ceilings? And that they stop about six inches short of a 10 foot ceiling and require the use of one's head to raise the drywall into the place and screw it up? Nope, neither did we. But the boys managed, and we saved taping and mudding for another day.

And it was all worth it for the beautiful smooth ceiling overhead.
The End.

Tomorrow is another day...

A month or so ago, when I was being overly dramatic about something rather insignificant, Jeff conjured up a new nickname for me. In his comforting way, he talked me down and pointed out the molehill under my make-believe mountain. He also endearingly called me "Scarlett O'Sarah". It's become our running joke. It helps me gain perspective of my sometimes all-or-nothing way of thinking. (And it also brings to mind the hilarious Carol Burnett curtain-dress scene in their "Went with the Wind" parody, which can't help but bring a smile.)

So today, as I lie sick for the fourth day in a row with cough, chest congestion, killer sinuses, and ear blockage, I hear a stirring refrain swell up and the words "I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never be [sick] again"!

Blackberry Summer

I have heard of a "blackberry winter", although I have no idea what it means.

(Isn't the Internet so handy? I just read at http://davesgarden.com that oldtimers knew that blackberries need a cold snap to set buds on the blackberry canes, so as sure as night follows day, there will be a cold snap when the blackberries bloom, called "Blackberry Winter".

Well, okay, now I know. And I also know we're having a blackberry summer!

Jeff and I were over at the farmhouse this morning working. I took DaVinci out for a little spin around the acre lot and checked on the blackberry bushes. Bonanza! They must have been just ready because about a quarter of the fruit was plump and ripe with the rest fast maturing on its heels. We finished up our work a few hours later and spent about 10 minutes picking blackberries. Here's our bounty from that scant amount of time!

Jeff had to tear me away from the fence row. I'll be back for more in a few days.

Requested Recipe

Here is the recipe for the bread I posted on Monday. It can be a bit tricky at first, but if you're familiar with other artisan breads, it will be no sweat. I weight my ingredients on a scale, so I converted my ounce and gram measurements to volume as best I could; it should be close.

The Dutch oven creates intense heat and seals in the moisture (so you don't have to throw ice cubes in the oven, one of my other tricks with artisan breads). It really gives it that "brick oven" crisp crust, so I don't recommend this recipe if you can't get your hands on a good cast iron or enamel Dutch oven. Besides, you need one anyway for perfect stews and roasts, so now's the time to invest!

Rustic Dutch Oven Boule

2 cups bread or all-purpose flour, plus extra
1 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 tsp instant yeast (or active dry, but proof it first in the water)
1 1/2 tsp sea salt
1 cup water, room temp
1/4 cup mild lager
1 Tbsp white vinegar

Whisk flour, yeast, and salt in bowl. Stir in water, beer, and vinegar until shaggy ball forms. Cover with plastic wrap and rest at room temperature for 12-18 hours.

Lay a long strip of parchment inside a 10” skillet or other similar sized bowl (the parchment is a “sling” for moving the dough later; DO NOT use waxed paper as a substitute! The skillet or bowl just helps keep the shape as the loaf rises). Grease parchment lightly. Transfer dough to lightly floured surface and knead 10-15 times (it will be fairly wet and slack, but try not to add any flour). Shape dough into ball; transfer seam-side down to parchment-lined skillet/bowl and spray dough with nonstick cooking spray. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature until doubled in size (2 hours).

About 30 minutes before baking, preheat Dutch oven and lid on lowest rack in oven to 500 degrees. Mist dough with water and sprinkle on coarse salt, if desired. Slash dough with razor blade or wallpaper knife (several patterns work, but a simple X is good). Transfer dough with parchment sling to hot Dutch oven, cover, and place in oven. Reduce oven to 425 degrees and bake, covered, for 30 minutes. Remove lid and continue to bake until deep brown and center registers 210 degrees on a thermometer (about 20-25 min more, but everyone has a kitchen thermometer, right?). Cool loaf 2 hours.

Variations: Add grated Parmesan, fresh or dried herbs, olives, oats, nuts, etc., to the dough as desired for extra flavor and texture.

A bun in the oven...

No, not that kind (we're apparently very poor chefs in that arena). The tasty, crackly, crusty, chewy, delicious carbohydrate variety.

The just baked boule in the Dutch oven

I haven't baked artisan loaves in a little while because 1) I was out of my favorite go-to, never-fail, must-have yeast, and 2) it's been so hot and humid I didn't want to leave my oven on 500°F for over an hour.

But Friday felt like a baking day. Actually, Thursday felt like a baking day and Friday like an eating day, because I have to start almost 48 hours before. But the end result was a lovely golden boule with a crisp crackle to the crust as it cooled. And a tantalizing taste on the tongue when tested (forgive the excessive alliteration, but I think you get the picture ;-).

Cooling its heels
(oh, haha, that's pretty funny; the crusty ends of the loaf are called heels,
so it's an almost literal phrase in this case; what a good pun!)

The "magic" of marriage

Not long after we were first married, I joked with Jeff that he must think his underwear drawers are magic. He takes out socks and undergarments all week long, the neat pile dwindles, and then suddenly it's full again each week like clockwork! We were laughing over this again the other day, and Jeff added that it must be like my "magical" bank account: I spend money through the week, but miraculously more appears on the balance sheet twice a month!

It really is such a blessing to be a full-time stay-at-home wife. We're both frugal and we share the responsibilities of financial management, but there is only one bread-winner (and he always comes home with a good loaf). At times, I feel I may not be earning my keep, but Jeff always assures me that my position is secure. No lay-offs for Evans, Inc!

Going, going......gone?

We have accepted an offer on our house! It's officially under contract, but, as with any big transaction, there are still potential snags along the way. Our previous real estate selling experience was rather simple and painless, so we are hoping this one is also. The buyers are pre-approved, which is great. The first hurdle is the inspection, so I'll update when we pass that test!

The flames meet...

Jeff came out to the stables on Monday to meet the horse I've been riding for the past year. In almost a decade of marriage and various equine mounts at several facilities, I don't think he'd ever seen me ride before! It was fun having my steady flame (Jeff) meet my new flame (Flame)!

I rarely have the opportunity to study pictures or video of my posture and riding technique, so Jeff recording some clips and still shots to help me out. Flame was not in his best form and it was already hot and sticky by 7 am, but we managed all the gaits and a few decent jumps toward the end for good measure.

P.S. Just keepin' it real, I didn't edit the moment of Flame's little temper tantrum. Like any young thing being educated, there are episodes of rebellion!

Cake Catastrophe

Well, the worst-case scenario of my baking world finally happened. After preparing a multi-layered stacked graduation cake with various types of filling, frosting, and edible decorations and topper, we had to transport the delicacy almost two hours over rough Southern roads, hills, and four (count them, four) train tracks! Jeff is a careful and conscientious driver, and never more so with fragile cargo. But the last set the tracks, just three minutes from our destination, did the cake in. Even after braking gently down to almost a crawl, the diagonal rails where just too much waggle and sway, with a bounce to boot. We heard a thud from the back and immediately knew our fears were realized; cake down, cake down!

I couldn't look when we arrived, but Jeff surveyed the damage. All things considered, it wasn't actually that bad. I had doweled each layer for support and used a central skewer to stabilize the whole structure, so the cake looked more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa than a pile of smooshed confectionery crumbs. The biggest problem was the pedestal on which the cake platter rested; two of the four short columns had popped off and refused to snap back on. So I carried the cake into the hall as it was and Jeff helped me prop the poor thing up. Once the cake table was arranged, we situated the cake with the flat side to the back and the sad, wonky pillars out of view.

On the whole, I'm quite relieved. The whole occasion went fine, my homemade ginger ale in the fruit punch was a hit, the table vignette was very pretty, and everyone seemed happy. I lived through my worst fear and came out the other side without too much cake on my face ;-)

Fruit Flies >:(

I was saving several bananas to let them get really ripe and sweet for my tropical fruit punch recipe, and now I've bred fruit flies! I almost think Louis Pasteur was wrong when he disproved spontaneous generation. How else could my bananas suddenly spawn a whole host of tiny winged insects within a matter of hours? His biogenesis experiment obviously wasn't conducted in my kitchen fruit basket! So now we are trying to trap the tiny nuisances, or at least lure them away from my cake project with a sacrificial treat. The funny thing is, I'm making the punch for the same special occasion as the cake; it's quite the Catch-22!

Classic Cars

I found just the thing to sit in front of the vintage farmhouse; an antique vehicle!

Jeff and I stopped at the Cruise-In being held in the shared parking lot of the local Arbys and Steak 'n Shake. There are a lot of car shows in this area, but they always tend to be on days we are unavailable. We were driving by Saturday evening and there was just a bit of light left at dusk when we spotted the show. I love anything old, so Jeff heeded my pleas and did a quick U-turn so we could wander the show for a few minutes.

The cute pick-up above would be just perfect at the farmhouse. The subtle buttercream paint job even matches the color I want for the kitchen cabinets! I could carry home all my home improvement needs and curbside finds in its lovely bed.

This beauty would be just right as Jeff's commuter vehicle. The seats looked quite comfortable for those long moments stuck in traffic! And fellow engineers would love to peak under the hood at all the shiny contraptions contained within.

I think I really should have been born a few generations ago. Then old houses and vintage cars would have been new and everyone would have had one!

We're Floored!

The dining room floor is revealed! After filling two mugs to the brim with nails and producing a large scrap pile of vinyl, linoleum, and paneling on the porch, we are down to beautiful bare wood. The coloring is very uneven due to wear, sun, and finish differences, but other than the mysterious dark spot, the floor is in very fine shape. A light sanding and new protective coat should be all that is needed. Thanks to my darling husband ("the nail whisperer"), we knocked this project out in just a few sessions. Now it's on to the kitchen, which appears to have all the same layers plus an additional sheet of linoleum or two directly on the wood!

(You can scroll down to last Monday's post and see the same photo angle as above showing the "before" floor)