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Hello, Friends!  Thank you so much for your patience while I was under the weather last week.  I don’t often fully succumb to whatever Yuck that comes my way–having four boys will do that to you–there just isn’t time for mama to get sick.  But last week?!  Last week The Big Nasty took over and didn’t bother to ask if I had room in my schedule for a little down time.

How rude.

Thank God for giving me my own personal Bacon Slayer, because my sweet husband took two days off so that I could lounge around being pathetic on the couch while he took care of everything else.  Not only did he cook and take care of the boys, but he even taught every-dang-one of them how to fold laundry and put it all away.

Seriously.  Even The Baby was doing his part by sorting all of the socks–that may sound like a small job, but when you consider a basket full of white socks in six different sizes–it’s huge.  Who knew I could have delegated all of those tasks?  Not me, that is for sure.  I should have done that years ago!

So after limping along doing the bare minimum last week, guess how I spent my first day feeling human?  Before you answer, perhaps I should tell you that I didn’t set foot in the kitchen for eight. full. days.  Eight!  All culinary tasks were tackled by the Bacon Slayer and Son #2.  Little Caesar’s pinch hit for a night, too.  But me?  Not a thing.  Nada.  Zero.

So my first day back in the land of the living demanded a couple dozen apple cinnamon muffins.  Obviously.  For all that BS did last week, the very least I could do was bake something that he could grab with his coffee as he headed out the door in the morning.

That’s when things got a little dicey.  After the necessary absence from my kitchen, I had the urge to make Our Daily Breads with a couple of loaves of whole wheat, and four loaves of English Muffin Bread.  This whole foray into yeast and flour was just my little way of bringing up the English Muffin Bread crafted by Rebecca @ Foodie with Family.  Rebecca is a gal after my own heart: unapologetic sci-fi fan, dessert afficionado, and homeschooling mama to her five boys.

Yep.  She took four boys and raised me one more.  I fold.

Forgive my egregious tangent…where was I?  Ah yes, bread.  Have you ever eaten English Muffin Bread?  If you haven’t, then believe me when I tell you that you have not lived until you’ve had a lightly toasted slice with a smear of butter in the morning.  Think the light, pillowy, bubbly texture of and English muffin, but in bread form, with two-thirds of the loaf is encrusted in cornmeal, so you don’t miss out on that classic English muffin crunch with every bite.  The dough comes together by hand in a big bowl with a wooden spoon.  No kneading.  No mixer.  No fuss.

Run!  Don’t walk, Friends.

But before my baking began to toe the line of Out of Control on Sunday, we took a little family drive after church.  Sometimes we just drive around the countryside looking for cool barns, grazing horses, stoic cows, and the occasional herd of bison.  We all daydream about what it would be like to own a significant amount of acreage–to have serious room to run.

Our wanderings inevitably come down to the same debate: What do we put in the barn? (The barn we do not own, mind you.)

The Bacon Slayer has serious designs on a barn so that he can build a 3/4 scale ice rink in the winter.  He’s got it all planned out with the engineering requirements, real boards around the edges, and even bleachers for the fans.  It’s in those moments that he’s got a real kinship with Kevin Costner.

If you build it..they will come.

I keep telling him that his ideas are perfect for one of those newfangled steel barns that can accommodate an ice arena.  Because his fantasy ice sheet can only be called an Arena.

Bacon Slayer’s only hitch?  Scale.  He’s going big or staying home.

Of course I am very supportive of his big barn dreams, provided that I have a smaller barn to do with what I choose.

My big barn dreams are a little simpler:

Photo used with permission and copyright P.Jackson.

Just a cow or three and a coop full of chickens.  No biggie.  I figure the only way I can keep up with my egg usage is to raise egg-laying chickens.  Son #1 would possibly promise his first born in exchange for a horse.  And if Son #1 had a horse, then Sons numbered 2, 3, and 4 would definitely want horses.  A small grove of fruit trees might be nice, too.  Next thing you know we’ll have a Gentleman’s Farm going on.

The rest of the family’s hitch?  We know absolutely nothing about farming.  Or livestock.  Or growing hay to feed said livestock.

Oh, and I’m allergic to livestock and hay.  Which is kind of a cruel joke when you think about it…here I am a huge animal lover, and I’m allergic to most of them.  What’s that about, anyway?

Needless to say, the Bacon Slayer is not in support of our ideas.

“You wouldn’t be able to breathe!” he says.

“You couldn’t even feed horses let alone brush them.” he says.

Whatever.

None of that should mean that I couldn’t have a few little chickens.  Just a few little egg-layers to provide eggs for our family?  The boys will take care of the horses, right?  They will be perfectly responsible for their animals, and I’ll get to see horses grazing in the yard over my morning tea.  That’s what they invented allergy medication and asthma inhalers for, right?  What could possibly go wrong? ;)

So that’s our Big Debate: Do we put an ice rink or animals in the barn we currently do not own?

Please don’t comment unless you are on my side.

Married Friends–tell me that you wage this type of hypothetical battles with your spouse.  Please.

 

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