Around this time of year, every year since I've married Dan (and a few years before then), I find myself with squirrel tendencies. You know what I'm talking about. Storing things up for the winter. I find myself baking bread and buns, making casseroles, soups and many meals that I can freeze and use later. I find this saves me so much time and money. When I'm tired from a long day at work, I can come home and pull out a frozen meal instead of calling for take-out or dragging myself through making a meal. Plus, I can make healthy meals full of summer veggies without paying a premium for the vegetables.
Currently our freezers are stock piled with quite a few meals. I've got cabbage rolls (3 meals worth!), borscht, hamburger soup, chili, chicken noodle soup, lasagna, spaghetti casserole, homemade frozen pizza, and ham pot pie. I make enough to feed a small army with each meal and then portion it out into family portions. This way, I can feed unexpected guests or have leftovers for Dan and me. I still need to make refried beans and Mexi-wraps, but those are easy to make in the crock pot in a few weeks when I have room in the freezer to store them.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Am I in Hell?
Nope! I'm just standing too close to my oven. It runs 75 degrees hotter than it should! This oven has been a battle for me ever since we moved in. The landlord is dealing with the situation, but I'm still perturbed at it. We got the temperature within a 5-10 degree range of what it should be. (and we learned a new skill...anybody else with this problem? We know how to fix it!)
So, I figured that since the temperature is fixed, baking bread would be okay. So yesterday, I did my mass bread baking (20 loaves) and buns as well. I put my first 6 loaves in the oven, and was very excited to see that the tops of the loaves were a perfect golden brown. As I pulled out the bread, my fire alarm went off. I removed the bread from the pans to find CHARCOAL BLACK bread. It was burnt!! So, I turned the oven down 50 degrees and tried again. This time the next 6 loaves, were uncooked on the top and burnt on the bottom. I am baffled.
Out of the 20 loaves of bread, I got 3 that aren't burnt and are cooked properly (And two of those I put in the toaster oven!) This is driving me nuts! But within 10 minutes, the oven technician (who knew they even existed?) will be here to hopefully fix my oven or say its dead so that I can get a new one. I just hope to get this figured out. I may be one woman who truly struggles to live without her oven. I'm a "cooking from scratch" kinda lady. Am I in hell? No! I've just got a troubled oven.
An Update: The temperature control needs to be replaced. Apparently, the oven temperature is wonky since it goes up and down by 50 degrees during its cycle and this causes burnt food. So Friday the new part comes and we'll have a working oven!!
So, I figured that since the temperature is fixed, baking bread would be okay. So yesterday, I did my mass bread baking (20 loaves) and buns as well. I put my first 6 loaves in the oven, and was very excited to see that the tops of the loaves were a perfect golden brown. As I pulled out the bread, my fire alarm went off. I removed the bread from the pans to find CHARCOAL BLACK bread. It was burnt!! So, I turned the oven down 50 degrees and tried again. This time the next 6 loaves, were uncooked on the top and burnt on the bottom. I am baffled.
Out of the 20 loaves of bread, I got 3 that aren't burnt and are cooked properly (And two of those I put in the toaster oven!) This is driving me nuts! But within 10 minutes, the oven technician (who knew they even existed?) will be here to hopefully fix my oven or say its dead so that I can get a new one. I just hope to get this figured out. I may be one woman who truly struggles to live without her oven. I'm a "cooking from scratch" kinda lady. Am I in hell? No! I've just got a troubled oven.
An Update: The temperature control needs to be replaced. Apparently, the oven temperature is wonky since it goes up and down by 50 degrees during its cycle and this causes burnt food. So Friday the new part comes and we'll have a working oven!!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
"Hey! I like you wagon!"
That comment caught our attention while we were shopping in Pricesmart this past week. People seem to be curious about us and the wagon. "So, did you walk here?" We always respond, "YES! When you choose not to own a car, you need to get creative in your transportation. " People usually comment that the yard works cart is nicer than a shopping cart, or how ingenious we are to use the wagon. Or they ask if Dan pulls me in the wagon on the way home if I'm tired (which he doesn't).
It never really surprises us anymore that people make comments or stare at us. Often when walking down South Fraser Way, people (complete strangers) honk at us and wave! Sometimes we think that we have a reputation around town and people are comforted seeing us and feel like they know us. When in reality, all we do is walk everywhere. But there is this sense of community in our town.
People are curious about our lifestyle and want to know how we live without a car. Really, its not that complex. We have two feet and a heartbeat, a Yard works wagon. There are no other options. We don't own a car, and don't really care to bum rides from people all the time. We are adults who've made a choice to live without a vehicle. You just make do. You need groceries, so you get them. You want coffee from Starbucks, so you walk. Its just the way life is. At times its inconvenient, but mostly interesting. The conversations you have, the people you meet and the memories you make as you walk along.
It never really surprises us anymore that people make comments or stare at us. Often when walking down South Fraser Way, people (complete strangers) honk at us and wave! Sometimes we think that we have a reputation around town and people are comforted seeing us and feel like they know us. When in reality, all we do is walk everywhere. But there is this sense of community in our town.
People are curious about our lifestyle and want to know how we live without a car. Really, its not that complex. We have two feet and a heartbeat, a Yard works wagon. There are no other options. We don't own a car, and don't really care to bum rides from people all the time. We are adults who've made a choice to live without a vehicle. You just make do. You need groceries, so you get them. You want coffee from Starbucks, so you walk. Its just the way life is. At times its inconvenient, but mostly interesting. The conversations you have, the people you meet and the memories you make as you walk along.
The Jacket off his back
Last week I got to take G-ma D. to the eye doctor in New Westminster. She had one appointment in the morning and one in the afternoon. We spent most of the morning wandering around, drinking our Starbucks and then stopped at McDonalds for lunch.
During lunch, there was a man next to us that seemed to be talking quite a bit. Grandma asked me if he was talking to himself. I told her, "No. He's talking to the man behind me." She laughed and then told me that she couldn't see him since I blocked her view. So, in my regular silly fashion, I bent over to and fro and then turned around and said, "See Grandma, there's a guy here."
Then I noticed his jacket. It was nice and I thought it would look nice on my husband and I wanted to find out where he bought it. I complemented the man (I like complimenting older gentlemen. I think that they think that they are fashionable when a young lady says that she likes their clothes. I usually do like their clothes, since Dan looks good in old man fashions.) The man and I chatted a few minutes about where he got his jacket (a thrift store) and how disappointed I was that it wasn't in a store (cuz i can't buy one for Dan) before i turned back to Grandma.
A few moments later, he stood next to us. He asked me, "How big is your husband?" I was a little shocked. He rephrased his question, "Do you think that this jacket would fit him? Cuz he can have it." I told him that my husband has broader shoulders and longer arms, but thanks for the generosity. He insisted that my husband may have the jacket. I refused, grateful and shocked by his insistent generosity. Then he surprised me some more. He asked, if the jacket would fit me and if I would like it. I gratefully refused stating my monkey arms wouldn't fit.
The conversation continued and I got the feeling that this man was a Christian trying to live out the Christian love. My suspicion was confirmed when at the end he gave us tracts (I guess our agreeing with church and everything else wasn't enough to confirm our own faith..or maybe he just likes tracts.)
I found it utterly refreshing to meet a complete stranger who was willing to give the jacket off his back to two woman whom he just met. He expressed his gratefulness for the opportunity to meet us, saying that it was a divine intervention and that God had placed many things together so that we would meet that day. I had to agree. It was a pleasant conversation, that reminded me of Christ's call for generosity.
It got me thinking. Would I be willing to give the jacket off my back? Or more than that? Dan and I try our best (although we often fail) to live a life filled with generosity. We love to give to others, especially food since we have both been gifted in that area. (Tomatoes or Rhubarb anyone?) We have realized that everything we "own" is God's and should be used to glorify him. It is not really ours and rather it should be shared. We are really good at this with our friends, but are we good at sharing when it comes to strangers? Would we extend that same generosity to someone we've just met? I hope so. Its a constant reminder to me that we need to share and be generous.
As my nephew said (he was 4 at the time), when I received chocolate for my birthday, "You have to share. Jesus likes it when we share." What do you say to that? Needless to say, sharing does make Jesus happy. And it makes me happy too.
During lunch, there was a man next to us that seemed to be talking quite a bit. Grandma asked me if he was talking to himself. I told her, "No. He's talking to the man behind me." She laughed and then told me that she couldn't see him since I blocked her view. So, in my regular silly fashion, I bent over to and fro and then turned around and said, "See Grandma, there's a guy here."
Then I noticed his jacket. It was nice and I thought it would look nice on my husband and I wanted to find out where he bought it. I complemented the man (I like complimenting older gentlemen. I think that they think that they are fashionable when a young lady says that she likes their clothes. I usually do like their clothes, since Dan looks good in old man fashions.) The man and I chatted a few minutes about where he got his jacket (a thrift store) and how disappointed I was that it wasn't in a store (cuz i can't buy one for Dan) before i turned back to Grandma.
A few moments later, he stood next to us. He asked me, "How big is your husband?" I was a little shocked. He rephrased his question, "Do you think that this jacket would fit him? Cuz he can have it." I told him that my husband has broader shoulders and longer arms, but thanks for the generosity. He insisted that my husband may have the jacket. I refused, grateful and shocked by his insistent generosity. Then he surprised me some more. He asked, if the jacket would fit me and if I would like it. I gratefully refused stating my monkey arms wouldn't fit.
The conversation continued and I got the feeling that this man was a Christian trying to live out the Christian love. My suspicion was confirmed when at the end he gave us tracts (I guess our agreeing with church and everything else wasn't enough to confirm our own faith..or maybe he just likes tracts.)
I found it utterly refreshing to meet a complete stranger who was willing to give the jacket off his back to two woman whom he just met. He expressed his gratefulness for the opportunity to meet us, saying that it was a divine intervention and that God had placed many things together so that we would meet that day. I had to agree. It was a pleasant conversation, that reminded me of Christ's call for generosity.
It got me thinking. Would I be willing to give the jacket off my back? Or more than that? Dan and I try our best (although we often fail) to live a life filled with generosity. We love to give to others, especially food since we have both been gifted in that area. (Tomatoes or Rhubarb anyone?) We have realized that everything we "own" is God's and should be used to glorify him. It is not really ours and rather it should be shared. We are really good at this with our friends, but are we good at sharing when it comes to strangers? Would we extend that same generosity to someone we've just met? I hope so. Its a constant reminder to me that we need to share and be generous.
As my nephew said (he was 4 at the time), when I received chocolate for my birthday, "You have to share. Jesus likes it when we share." What do you say to that? Needless to say, sharing does make Jesus happy. And it makes me happy too.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Fruit Thieves
Warning to the residents of Abbotsford (especially those living in the Clearbrook area). There are two fruit thieves roaming the town. The come unexpectedly, and often at night. They seek fresh, and somewhat organic fruit, straight from the trees or vines. They prefer grapes and plums, but will often seek out apples as well. Be aware that they are neither armed nor dangerous, but if challenged will offer some sort of pie or preserve in exchange for the fruit that they are thieving. Abbotsford residents, you have been warned!
House and Home
We all know the saying "home is where the heart is." But what happens when home doesn't feel like home anymore? It happened when we were coming home from our trip at the beginning of the month. As we came back to Abbotsford, I (Dan) had this overwhelming feeling of disappointment at coming home. Now this wasn't the usual sadness at coming at the end of a trip; rather it was a feeling of depression, if you will, at the thought of Abbotsford. I don't mean to say that this is a bad town to live (despite the Bacon brothers attempts to prove otherwise) but it has lost its attraction and pull over me.
Amanda and I have both discussed more than a few times the thought of moving to a small town somewhere out of the grip of the Fraser Valley. Be it up north in a town like Smithers or Vanderhoof, or over on the island. We long for the relaxed way of life and generosity that seems to come inherent with small towns. A quick story to prove the point: at the wedding (in Smithers) while talking to another guest he told of how while camping on the brides parents farm his sons went out quading. Unfortunately they didn't have enough quads, but the father of the bride said not to worry, that the neighbors had a quad that he could use. He then proceeded to tell him where the shop was, where in the shop the quad and key were, and that the neighbor wouldn't mind that he borrowed the quad without even needing to ask.
Amanda and I have both discussed more than a few times the thought of moving to a small town somewhere out of the grip of the Fraser Valley. Be it up north in a town like Smithers or Vanderhoof, or over on the island. We long for the relaxed way of life and generosity that seems to come inherent with small towns. A quick story to prove the point: at the wedding (in Smithers) while talking to another guest he told of how while camping on the brides parents farm his sons went out quading. Unfortunately they didn't have enough quads, but the father of the bride said not to worry, that the neighbors had a quad that he could use. He then proceeded to tell him where the shop was, where in the shop the quad and key were, and that the neighbor wouldn't mind that he borrowed the quad without even needing to ask.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Credo of a Peaceful Traveller
"Journey with an open mind and a gentle heart. Accept with grace and gratitude the diversity I encounter. Revere and protect the natural environment which sustains all life. Appreciate all cultures I discover. Respect and thank my hosts for their welcome. Offer my hand in friendship to everyone I meet. Support travel services which share these views. By my spirit, words and actions, encourage others to travel the world in peace." --International Institute for Peace through Tourism
(found in New Hazelton, BC. August 2009)
(found in New Hazelton, BC. August 2009)
Dutch Bingo
It continually surprises me that everywhere I travel in this crazy world, there seems to be someone who knows someone who knows someone I know. In the Dutch world, we call this "Dutch Bingo." It is highly regarded among the Dutch Community and among the first "game" that we play when we meet people.
For example, when we were in Wells, we stayed at a Hotel which had a hot tub on the roof. Dan and I went up one night to check it out. We ended up meeting this couple from the Okanagan. We did the name introductions, as well as where we were from. Then it started. We are from Abbotsford, where their kids when to Columbia Bible College. A few more connections, and we discovered that their last name is Vegt. Then I asked the question, "Do you happen to know Margo and Bert Vegt?" BINGO. "Bert is my brother" was their reply. Its these types of connections that remind me that the world is a smaller place than I think it is.
Today, at church, April (our pastor) was talking about unity. She read a passage from Ephesians 4:1-6, which emphasizes the need to keep the unity of the Spirit. April read a quote that someone from Mennonite World Conference said about the same passage which stuck with me. "Unity is not something that is created, but something that must be maintained."
It amazes me that the first thing that we do when we meet people is try to find something in common so that we can continue on in conversation. Instead of dividing ourselves, we try to unite ourselves. We want to remain in community with people, even if it is only temporary (like the couple in Wells). But unity is not something that we have to create. The Spirit has already created it, we just need to maintain it. Hence, the reason we should play more Dutch Bingo.
For example, when we were in Wells, we stayed at a Hotel which had a hot tub on the roof. Dan and I went up one night to check it out. We ended up meeting this couple from the Okanagan. We did the name introductions, as well as where we were from. Then it started. We are from Abbotsford, where their kids when to Columbia Bible College. A few more connections, and we discovered that their last name is Vegt. Then I asked the question, "Do you happen to know Margo and Bert Vegt?" BINGO. "Bert is my brother" was their reply. Its these types of connections that remind me that the world is a smaller place than I think it is.
Today, at church, April (our pastor) was talking about unity. She read a passage from Ephesians 4:1-6, which emphasizes the need to keep the unity of the Spirit. April read a quote that someone from Mennonite World Conference said about the same passage which stuck with me. "Unity is not something that is created, but something that must be maintained."
It amazes me that the first thing that we do when we meet people is try to find something in common so that we can continue on in conversation. Instead of dividing ourselves, we try to unite ourselves. We want to remain in community with people, even if it is only temporary (like the couple in Wells). But unity is not something that we have to create. The Spirit has already created it, we just need to maintain it. Hence, the reason we should play more Dutch Bingo.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
"What are you looking at?"
On Saturday night (after we had just returned from the road trip), we went out to get some much needed groceries with our trusty cart and also go to the Bank. We were by the KFC on Clearbrook when things went horribly wrong. We both casually glanced down at the sidewalk entrance to KFC and saw a man wearing army short and dreadlocks walking his mean looking German Shepherd dog. The man yelled at us, "What are you looking at?" We jokingly said, "You." He asked us, "Why" Dan replied, "Cuz you are there." That's when things got out of control. He raced towards us calling his dog to follow him and yelled, "What are you looking at? Why are you looking at me?" Realizing that he didn't like our joke, we innocently explained that we were looking at the bushes and he happened to be there. He didn't seem satisfied with that answer and stormed towards us calling his dog. He eyed up our cart, all the while yelling "What are you looking at?" We worried he was going to steal Amanda's purse or our groceries. We also worried that he was about to get violent. We calmly, but rather quickly walked away. He continued to follow us and yell, "What are you looking at?" His dog, thankfully didn't follow him (and didn't listen to him calling his name), so the man went back to get his dog. We walked quickly away, looking back, without making it look like we were looking back. We made it home safely, while warning fellow pedestrians to avoid looking at the man in dreadlocks. We are so thankful that this incident didn't turn out worse. It was quite scary, but we are happy that we are okay.
Road Trip 2009-Part 2
After visiting Prince Rupert, we went up to Fort St. James, outside of Vanderhoof. We visited the fort and had a great time learning about skinning the hides (it sure smelt something awful though).
Dan went fishing at Stuart Lake in Fort ST. James. He didn't catch anything, except himself. But he is still learning the art of fly casting.
Next we went to look at one of the oldest existing churches in BC.
Dan went fishing at Stuart Lake in Fort ST. James. He didn't catch anything, except himself. But he is still learning the art of fly casting.Later that night, after the winds picked up and Dan could no longer fish, we went looking for a waterfall that we had seen on a postcard at the Fort. The tourist lady had given us directions, so we went looking for it. We ended up 50km off the beaten path on a road less travelled. We didn't see a waterfall, but we ended up getting up close and personal with a beaver at some unnameable lake. It made the trip worthwhile to see the beaver in "its natural habitat."
Our next stop was Wells. We got to stay in a 1930's hotel. The hotel was beautiful. The pub it was on top of, not so much. The singer in the pub was horrible. The accordion accompaniment was terrible. And of course, the fact that this was all happening at midnight made it all worse. From Wells, we made a day trip to Barkerville. We took in a show about the fire, panned for gold and took a carriage ride. It was amazing to realize that our entire trip was along the gold rush route in the 1890's.
One morning, we took a moment to see the Bowron Lakes. I mean, we came that far, why not? We ended up renting a canoe for an hour and paddled around the lake. Dan got another opportunity to fish, but only caught some seaweed. But at least he can say, he fished on the Bowron Lakes.
After Barkerville and Bowron Lakes, we went down to Williams Lake, where we had planned a Jet Boat Adventure. And what an adventure it was. We were accompanied by the Cariboo-Chilcoton Tourist Center leaders, as well as Aboriginal Tourist Center leaders. It was meant to be a bit of a photographic journey for them, as they gained resources for upcoming magazines and 2010 footage (yep, look for us on TV!)
We all got an opportunity to deep net fish in the Fraser River, since our guide was an Aboriginal.
We got to taste authentic Aboriginal foods, like salmon and bannock. We also ate this amazing ice cream, that comes from berries that are only ripe for one week and when mashed end up fluffing up into a delicious ice cream.
We really enjoyed being out on the water and learning about the Aboriginal way of life and their culture from real Aboriginals.
We were on the water for 8 hours, even though our tour was supposed to be 6 (that was thanks to the photographers and their need for the perfect shot!) It was definitely the highlight of our trip.
We ended our trip with a brief visit to Penticton to visit Grandma. It was a nice way to relax. Grandma took us to Peachfest, so we could experience the nightlife. It was lame, by big city standards, but Grandma sure got a kick out of it. The night ended with free pizza which Grandma took full advantage of. We left the next morning to finish our journey through the Hope-Princeton and to our wonderful home. We collapsed in our own bed, exhausted but happy.
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