Real Life Heath Care

I am not big on politics. I leave politics to the Mister. He has passionate views where politics are concerned. He likes to argue long over issues large and small. I prefer not to argue; this is just me. This is how it is in our house and for this reason politics aren't a hot topic at the dinner table. Quite frankly, in scope of my days, politics don't rank high on the list of things that take up precious brain space. Occasionally  however, certain topics pop up that warrant a bit of brain space.

In this house, while HeadStrong searched cookbooks for muffin recipes the "I's" echoed through our farm kitchen. This morning at Calamity Farm we listened to the voices of our countrymen echo loud through The House. Today, U.S.Senate is in session to debate a very hot topic in America. On the floor today is the matter of Defunding Affordable Care Act or ObamaCare. Senate is voting to advance a Temporary Spending Bill Defunding Heath Law. Senator Ted Cruz of Texas spoke for 21 hours straight on his view of this Act. Senator Cruz has passionate views that he's very willing to share.

 :: Currently the Senate is moving forward the Temporary Bill; 100-0

The Senate unanimously passed a cloture vote to limit the debate on the motion to proceed to debate on the Continuing Resolution. Senators now have 30 hours of debate on the measure to fund the federal government at current sequester levels of $986.3 billion through December 15 and to defund the Affordable Care Act (ACA)

Today Katie has a few things she's willing to share, albeit not for 21 straight hours.

What I wish to know is this: Why, rather than address the issue of WHY people can't afford heath care, are we making a mandatory Heath Law?  Why does it cost so much moolah to fund the government; why can't these guys make budget like normal people do? Is it really necessary to have a bill that totes a whopping 33, 000 pages of regulations alone?  And don't get me started on the fact that they had to vote to limit debate on the motion to proceed to debate...really?  Wow. I'm not super smart but the " Keep it Simple Stupid" principle has a measure of truth that perhaps our politicians might embrace.

It all makes me about sick to my stomach.

A funny aside to today's big debate on health: My oldest, the one looking for muffin recipes, overwhelmed with a wave of nausea-  threw up all. over. the. bathroom. My thoughts on health care might be a little skewed today as my mind turns over the possibility of each of the 6 members of my household vomiting and who would be cleaning up the messes. And with that comes what to feed a crowd when dinner might be making a reappearance later.

Currently, our Senators are debating on whether or not to formally begin the debate.

I think I'm gonna be sick....

Choosing Real Life Stories

"Sometimes I miss the stories. Like on days like today.

Every once in a while I do the ”bloggy” things I used to do all the time; follow the clicks down the rabbit hole, read story after story, pour over images, watch videos, and get inspired. And it reminds me of how much I love stories. Yours, mine, ours. All of them. Unfortunately, I don’t seem to carve out as much time as I used to for them anymore."

These words of author/photographer Tracey Clark echoed loud through my head as I sat staring at what I had just read. 

I really miss the stories. It seems that lately "story" has been a big part of our lives here. The word story is constantly bouncing in and out of conversation.  

I have a desire to share My Story-Our Story; the Story of Us and all of our beautiful messy chaos. In my heart of hearts I want to share this story of the real Calamity Clan. I want to share those things that drag us down and trip us up.  I want to share all of the funny things, sadness, joy and all around daily mayhem but then my brain takes over and all that negative self talk starts: you can't do that, you have no time for such nonsense, no one cares about your blathering, your grammar stinks...

My dear friend Miri recently wrote a story that sent me on a rabbit trail straight down memory lane. I was amazed and slightly embarrassed that my friend had documented more stories about my own children than I did. I thought about all of the stories that were now lost due to my negligence. Shame and guilt stormed their way to the forefront of my emotions; how could I have let those stories slip away?

Every day I share stories with my children of those that have gone before; stories loved by all, stories that someone took the time write down. We are part of The Story. If I don't write our stories, there will be no stories for the next generation. 

While I seek to strike a balance between being present-living in the moment-and capturing/recording those moments for another time, I know I will battle with guilt and disappointment.  I will wrestle with fear, regret and being overwhelmed.  There will be days chock-a-block with frantic busyness and no stories will be told-I have to be OK with that. 

I am SO not perfect.  I laugh too loud and talk too much. I don't live in a Pinterest perfect home. My kids are sassy. There a huge drifts of dog hair in the corners of every room of our house. There's shouting and laughter and the dishes slide. We are a broken mess but I choose to capture these moments and bits of life. This is the story of me and mine. It is Ugly Beautiful and it is good because it's ours. 

Let the journey begin.

  

Life

This life with its brokenness and joy, beauty and pain, struggle and strife...

This life with all of the vehicles breaking down around our ears. The lawn mowers and weed-eaters, washing machine, vacuum, dishwasher, computers and refrigerators all waiting for the repair man.

This house with its peeling paint (inside and out) and the huge brick chimney that barley hangs on.  Some days I can almost hear the groaning as it slowly tips back away from the house, pulling up the floor boards as it goes. This house literally bursting at the seams.

These four children of mine; one man-child preparing to fly, one young lady training for womanhood, one girl blossoming to adolescence, one boy, the baby, finding his own voice.

These kitchen floor tiles eating away at my supply of dishes; oh the heaps of broken dishes. This weeks tally: 1 coffee mug, 6 plastic cups, 7 drinking glasses, 1 cereal bowl, 1 saucer.

These silly children that grow too fast to suit me and ask too many questions (in their best British/Australian/Scottish/French accents, of course)  that I cannot answer.

These silly, crazy days so full of fret and worry; days filled to overflowing. Days wherein, I forget to love, be patient, hold my tongue, have mercy or be graceful; awful days where I don't lean on my Father who loves me.

This one room school house with its toppling towers of books and strong willed children. This mama worn and weary trying hard to do the right thing, anxious and excited over all the possibilities.

This faith full family doing Kingdom work.

These chickens that don't lay eggs and two silly pigs with a food budget bigger than our family of six. A farm dog with a thyroid problem and far too many fluffy kittens to suit the Mister. One lonely rabbit whose sole purpose is to produce fertilizer for the garden.

This husband and wife struggling with the daily grind and frustration.

This little hill of clay that I coax to grow more than just blackberry and poison oak. This sad little oasis, where once I dreamed of  glorious gardens I would grow and tend. I see those wild blackberry vines creeping and those shiny leaflets of three and wonder if that dream will ever come to fruition.

This house turned upside down in effort to purge and make space. Space for the school books and space for kids who just need their own corner of this house. A bit of space for the Mr. and space for this girl to make beautiful things again. Such a deep need to be creative again.

.....

These are the things of life right here and now.

Slow down summer, slow down life

Slow down summer.
Slow down and see the finches carefully stealing snacks from the garden beds.
Slow down, smell the hot summer air, heavy with blackberry and cedar.
Slow down Katie, see the children grow and rejoice.
Slow down life.
Slow down and taste those last glorious bites of summer.
Slow down, fret not.
Slow down, sit back and crank up the volume on the summer playlist.
Slow down .

Late night blues

So, it's 11 p.m. and I am only awake for the sole purpose of forcing a load of laundry through my washing machine. I have been at this since 9:30, actively. The load went in sometime in the late morning and I have been fiddling with it off and on all day. Being faced with yet another soured load I thought it necessary to try hard to get the clothes through before heading off to bed.

Ugh.

While trying hard to choose the best, newest machine we could (not) afford we scoured the net for reviews. We choose what we thought would be the best for our family.  Alas, our supposed super-high-powered-most-awesome-ever  washer was a lemon to start with. We were stuck. This washer should be dubbed the Million Dollar Baby for all of the $$ we have dumped into the blasted machine. This one tool to make my mama life easier has caused such stress and financial drain as to make managing a NFL football team look easy-peasy.

Right now I just want to take a hammer to the dern thing. Then trot off to my cozy bed not thinking about my sheets that need washing, or the towels festering in the bathroom basket.

I should  mention that my washer is one of those super fancy front loading types. The type that spin at the speed of light or something totally ridiculous and sound like a Cessna engine while doing it. It spins so fast in fact that it shakes its own brains loose. To help alleviate said shaking my super smart hubby made a sling out of a bicycle inner-tube, in which the brain can sit gently swinging whist the machine prepares for launch. This sling works wonders but due to its bulky nature prevents the top of the washer from remaining in place during launch sequence. Mmmhmm. The bottom hatch of the washer is also aloof as it makes for an easier clean out when you loose socks down the open porthole atop the machine.

Mercy.

I try hard to be thankful for this crazy mixed up washer but honestly I think that moving to Africa would be an easier task. In Africa I would not have as much laundry. In Africa, my janky, redneckified washer would be cool.

Currently I am receiving the F-11 code which states that the door lock is malfunctioning, IE; your clothes are likely to fly forth from the machine during launch phase, be prepared.

Earlier I was faced with the F-02 failure code which implies that the pump is no longer working and a new pump must be installed by a trained professional immediately. Seriously? Immediately?


It's beeping again...wonder which code it will have this time.

Farm Tour Day 3

The current state of the weather keeps me from taking many pictures, as camera's and tsunami's don't mix well. I am only exaggerating a tad. Every time the water stops pouring from the sky I scoot out the door snapping pictures like a mad woman. If only you could see me, slogging about in my muck boots, apron strings trailing- skirts a'flyin... A pretty picture indeed! Thankfully I can remove that image from your mind with these shots from around the farm and homestead. Enjoy~

I always plant flowers with my veg. This year I sprinkled Cosmos seeds in the Hot Pepper patch. Those pink blossoms really stand out amidst all the shades of green.

My darling menfolk made me a new squash patch this year and while it didn't produce scads of Winter Squashes as I had hoped, I was pleased that this special plant produced 3 healthy fruit. This is Red Kuri or Potimarron or Onion Squash. I hear it has wonderful sweet flesh that tastes a bit like chestnuts. I can't wait to try it.

For school the kids are studying Honest Abe. The youngest farmer boy finds Abraham Lincoln most fascinating. He writes himself notes so he won't forget a single detail.

Fall leaves make my heart go pitter-pat.

This is how I spent a healthy portion of the weekend. It was heavenly. The pounding/pouring/sloshing rain only distracted me slightly. 

Note: Pay no attention to the frown lines on my forehead this is a good book! It's about Depression Era farm women.

Inside/Outside:: Farm Tour

Time does slip quickly by when one has far more chores than there are hours in the day...  (Deepest apologies for the lack of photo editing here...not enough time!)

Garden harvest 22 October -in the torrential downpour/thunder and lightening storm.

                                                             

Bloody rotten APHIDS!! eating happily away at my Brussels 

Farm dog-Hard at work keeping watch for errant toys

Garden Mums. My favourite.

Never ending pile of laundry to be folded or Mt. Foldme

                   

New to the farm this year- raised beds in the front courtyard. Didn't do quite as well as hoped, but still blooming!

After-school mess making...er, playtime.

Raised bed #2 sporting a healthy (5.5 ft. tall) crop of Redbor Kale and the blasted aphid drowned Brussels.

I have carpel elbow from all of the chopping/stirring/slicing/stuffing I've been doing this last month. In the pantry: Cider and juice, salsa, dried fruit/veg, butters and jams and still more to can.

Raised bed #3.  Home to wayward strawberries, various herbs and Cole crops.

Outside-the rain tumbles from the sky. Inside-the fireplace crackles and the tea kettle whistles. Dinner is simmering in the oven and the water-bath canner bubbles steady.

Big Town

Let me preface-I do not like town. I do not desire trips to town. I do not dream of town and all the glories that live there  re:Target, Sonic, Thrift Stores (well maybe I dream about the thrift stores a tiny bit). I prefer to stay tucked in safe and cozy right here at home. I prefer to stay home in my comfy yoga pants-ignoring the rising costs of, well...everything.

After suffering far too long with an empty pantry, I girded my loins and made my way to Big Town for some much needed supplies. (One can only make the same pasta dish so many weeks in a row before the natives start to protest.)  I loaded-up all four of my (smallish, touchy-grabby, grouchy, hyper) personal assistants and off we went.

Here, I must pause for dramatics.

My children-while they are still children-are incredibly well behaved. I on the other hand am the one who suffers ill behavior. I am a hermit and slight agoraphobe; a person who would rather stay safely tucked in at home. Shopping makes me grouchy. Spending money makes me grouchy. Reading labels and making decisions makes my eyes want to pop out of my head. Being in Big Town makes me want to shoot things and say naughty words. Big town is 40 miles-at the outskirts-from my house, my Suburban gets 10 miles to the gallon. Petrol was $4.29 at the last fill. This coupled with my hermit longings for my comfy pants and humble home...makes me grouchy. Needless to say, when I went to town I was grouchy.

Having bribed my four assistants with a scoop of their favourite ice cream, we set out to fill our basket. I asked the Man-Child to steer the ship freeing the other three and I to search out the needed items on our list. We made it through the store with only one Potty Stop and one small run-in with a very impatient elderly woman who didn't care a snit if I wanted to read the labels on ALL of the bottles of Fish Sauce, she wanted me and my brood to remove ourselves from her path. Harumph!

After a quick chat with an old friend and much begging-pleading-whining from the children we proceeded to the checkout and most importantly, to the ice cream. . Whether by the impatient woman or my own grump, I must have been distracted. I forgot to check The List before leaving the store. I always check The List...this small act is key to my success and sanity in Big Town, re: Petrol $4.29 per gal., thirsty Suburban, agoraphob-ish, grouchiness, lack of comfy pants. I forgot the Mayo.... For the love of Pete! Mayonnaise.

Grr. On the menu for today's lunch: Tuna Sandwiches.

So, I asked myself, what would any Farmgirl  worth her salt do...."What would Julia do?"  Of course, Julia would make fresh Mayonnaise; none of that paltry commercially prepared concoction would do.

With Julia Child's signature vocals echoing in my head I set to making, for the first time ever, homemade Mayonnaise. I strapped on my well worn apron and set to work.  I had this preconceived notion that making Mayo was something so difficult that only Professional Chefs or Parisians dare attempt it. I was deceived. With the aide of my trusty little Cuisinart Food Processor I whipped farm fresh egg yolks into frothy submission.  It was fresh. It was lemony.

It was heaven.

Whoda'thunk that one forgotten pantry item would be life changing?! Now that I don't have to rush off to Big Town for Mayo I shall never again have to haul my assistants and my agoraphobic self about in the petrol loving Sub!  I shall never again suffer evil looks from grouchy elderly ladies!

I shall forever live in my yoga pants!

( I will need my yoga pants after eating all that glorious, lemony homemade mayo!)

I shall forever stay tucked in safe and cozy here at the farm.   That is, until I need chicken feed.

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

~ Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life ~

For today's posting I am linking up with the gals at Like Mother, Like Daughter.  
Join the fun!

{pretty}

This is from one of the weddings I shot this summer. I love the clothesline. I love the strings of lights. The twilight....very pretty.

{happy}

 I captured this tender moment between brothers yesterday. Both of my boys are suffering from illness.  My man child has just returned from a mission trip to Mexico, where he must have been bitten by a dog or a seal because he is barking up a storm.  He sounds terrible but that didn't stop him from reading a little of  "The Sneetches" to his baby brother who has a mild case of Conjunctivitis. 

This makes me so happy.  I love that my oldest isn't too cool to snuggle on the couch and read Dr. Seuss to his brother.  

{funny}

 This is my youngest child; dramatic and funny are his middle names. We have been standing in the July heat for 1.75 hrs waiting for our local parade -in which he is participating-to start.  Someone just told him he is allowed to "shoot" the crowd with a squirt gun.  He was excited, to say the least.

{real}

My friend Miri and I have a tradition.  Every October, we  make a birthday (Miri's)  pilgrimage to the Sylvia Beach Hotel.   We lounge. We read. We take photos.  We sip tea and take in the glorious ocean air. Otherwise,  we enjoy the quiet lack of children, animals, cell phones and T.V.   
Note:  The hotel, from-which my friend is basking in the ocean sunset above, is remodeling.    Alas, there will be no pilgrimage this year.  There will be no sipping of tea or lounging. There will be no photographing. There will be no lack of noise.  This year we must make other plans.


 (Insert loud sigh here)


Dear Sylvia Beach Hotel,
Hurry up with that remodeling! 
Love, 
Katie and Miri


Happy 20th Anniversary of your 20th Birthday my dear sweet friend! May it be wonderful even without the quiet ocean view.

The busy-ness of me

I have been flitting about in such a fashion as would make a Humming Bird nervous. I have forgotten where I was a few times. I lost track of time, got lost in town and forgot my own name while placing a phone order. Seriously, I have hardly keep the days straight. At one point I was processing a Canner full of jam, making supper, entertaining company, helping kids with school, watering the garden, loading the dishwasher, starting a new batch of jam, taking photos, reading a recipe and talking on the phone!

I have been overwhelmingly busy.  Dreadfully busy.  Much, much to busy for me....

I have canned umpteen jars of Tuna, barbecued Tuna, smoked Tuna, vacuum packed some 50 lbs of Tuna and Salmon and otherwise lived like and frankly, smelled like, a fish monger. I camped with my family. Attended two funerals, in the same day.  Attended a baby shower. Canned blackberry syrup, apple & pear butters, plum jam and rhubarb. Forgot to water and weed my garden.  Fetched my mother from town for a week of canning fun. I have taken an entire truck load of  "stuff" to the Goodwill, (thank you Joy).  Accidentally made cottage cheese. I have lovingly, labouriously, plucked raspberries from the vines in my garden and tucked them into the deep freeze. Visited friends and loved ones at the hospital in Big Town.  I have taught classes at church and home. I have shredded and frozen scads of zucchini. I have eaten my body weight in zucchini. Spent a morning getting in firewood with my family. I have dried tray, after glorious tray of herbs in my food dehydrator. In general, I ran like a head with my chicken cut off.

I have never in my adult life canned/put up so much food. Or run to town so many times while in the middle of said canning.  When returning from the grocery with mass quantities of large and small mouth canning lids and military sized bags of sugar, my oldest son asked if I was preparing for a nuclear holocaust.  Not a holocaust son, I said, just putting up food so I can feed you during your next growth spurt.  (Dear sweet baby boy, please stop growing!)

While not preparing for disaster, I have been busy filling the pantry with good, old fashioned, staples in hopes of making ends meet ( re: feeding of teenagers) All the while, juggling the things that make up this crazy, calamitous life of mine.  This kind of busy makes my very happy.   Crazy, but happy.

What's been keeping you busy lately?

Flower Power

Sometimes you feel like a nut....


I think we have Spring Fever around these parts.  The girls have been playing with the flowers and my camera.  I will share more of the weirdness as soon as I get them edited.

Farmishness

Every now and then I jot down what goes on at Calamity Farm. Sometimes I remember to write in my handy-dandy farm journal spot. Most often I don't remember to write at all. Click on the picture (you'll be like Alice stepping through the looking glass) to see whats going on.  Or not, I will try not to cry.

Calamity Farm

Sit and spin

Still trying to iron out the wrinkles in the very outdated and dusty computer/interweb business.  Whodathunk that every program we own would have to be updated, upgraded and dug out from under piles of junk. Not me I guess. I assumed (ahem, we all know what that means) that my darling spouse would simply plug the computer in to the modem and interweb as we knew it would be up and running, lickety-split. As will all things technical, well all things in general, nothing is ever easy here in Calamity-ville.

Whodathunkit?

Obviously not I.  I am like a spoiled child.  I want my candy. NOW.  I want to sit at my desk and open my  picture files, effortlessly of course, and upload photo after lovely photo to my wonderful little blog.  But no!  I sit down and immediately my computer sticks out her tongue and says "neener-neener you can't play here". Then Ms. Compy  proceeds to blow a big fat raspberry right in my face. How could she? I mean seriously!  She simply doesn't understand that I have dreamed of the day I would have the interweb again. What does she expect me to do while she does her house keeping?  I have blog posts galore waiting to be published.  I have recipes, stories and photos to share. All this will have to wait till all the cobwebs are swept away and Ms. Compy has her house in order again.

Meanwhile, I am trying not sit and spin my wheels: aka trying not to stomp my feet and throw a fit like the big fat baby I am. So, I am planning the garden for this year. I am trying very hard  not to be tempted by the adorable baby chicks at the feed store. {I barely made it out sans chicks yesterday.} I am catching up on the laundry pile up. I am spending far too much time dreaming of moving to the "real" country; thanks in no small part to The Pioneer Woman.  After the big wind/rain storm we had on Sunday, I am reevaluating my emergency supply stash and finding it seriously lacking. Wishing I could be stitching up a batch of these little beauties.


Well, 'the days a wasting' as Grandma would have said. Have a productive week.

Rested

After a nice, semi relaxing day, I am back to the grind-stone. 

I am working on a corn husk doll tutorial for the long neglected Sanity Savers site, a new triptych for this site and currently trying out the 'blogger in draft' -which I like so far. 

I am finally settling into a good groove with our homeschool.  Four years later.  Seems odd to me that it would take so long..  Whatever, things are really going well as far as schooling goes.

It is rainy and cold here this morning and I have secret hopes of pulling out the sewing machine and sneaking in a few hours of stitching.  I have been inspired by Erin's scrappy log cabin blocks. Check out the absolute adorableness of them here and here.


Hi-ho, hi-ho, its off to work I go...

Easy does it

I have run so harry-carry as of late, I am feeling the need to take a day off.  The busy, bustling of  "putting food by" has taken a toll on my house and my attitude.  For months I have poured out my energies, with abandon, on my garden and now... 

I find I have lost the heart for tending and toiling.  And canning.


Ad infinitum.



I think I will play the grasshopper for a day and simply watch the ants scurry past.

Summer in pictures::A Royal Blast

During the balmy days of summer the Rural Firefighters treat the local communities to an Ice Cream Social disguised as a fundraiser. Leave it to those wily firefighters to lure in the locals with the promise of homemade pie and ice cream. Top that off with a down-home fire-hose dousing and you have what the Calamity Folk dub: A Royal Blast.


The Calamity boys took on the task of defending the family's honour in the Water Jousting event.

























Bold Knight Head-Strong takes one for the team.





















The Young Sire, Head-Long, gives it his all while looking especially smart in his stripes and fishes ensemble.




















The Young Mistress shows her support by offering up her best(toothless) chocolate ice cream grin.


























No ice cream shall go unvanquished!! (Or uneaten!)

























No Royal outing is complete without a send off from Princess Grace herself.



Good times were had by all. Peace was restored in the kingdom.



And they all lived happily ever after....

Summer in pictures...maybe.

What can I say? I have been busy.

Pardon me...

Being under the influence of Spring, is a detriment to one's blogging. I know what you are saying: Priorities! Girlfriend, get with the bloggin'!

I do have to defend my honor (or some such nonsense) I have been blogging, just not here. I have been cheating on this blog. It is terrible. Unthinkable! It's that blasted Spring thing again. It's got me all jumbled up inside. I can't think straight. So, I have been sneaking off and jotting my thoughts (on Spring) down, journal style on my Little Farm blog.

Go ahead, check it out. You know you want to. :)

Back to being under the influence: I have to blame shift here a little bit more-K?! It really isn't my fault. The fault rests solely in the pages of the dadrabbit seed catalogs. No, really. Those companies just prey on unsuspecting gardeners like myself. They purposely fill the pages of those lovely little books with such glorious overpriced goodies. They suck you in with tales of how "you too can have tomatoes, year round, with the super-duper, upside down tomato growing thingie". And, for just a minute I think, well yea, I totally NEED the "super-duper, upside down tomato growing thingie". Heck yea! I need TWO! And while I'm at I better get just the right seed and some fertilizer and carrot seed and hey....what's that? roses, ooooh roses, and then there's the herbs and squash, broccoli, kale, garlic and potato's! We wouldn't want to forget those now would we. We might as well spend every last dime we have on this stuff because, HELLO, it's Spring!

And what does one twitterpated farm girl do in the Spring? What is the all important, Spring specific, planting thing to do? Why, plant pea's, of course. Lots and lots of peas. Snap Peas, Sugar Pod Peas, Shellin' Peas....

...seed catalogs be damned!


What is a blog are priorities when you have seed catalogs to get sucked into peruse?

Sprouts

True story folks; I lurve me some sprouts, yet sprouts are spendy little buggers. For one third the cost of store bought sprouts, I grew some myself. Aren't you impressed? I am. Having never considered growing my own fresh, organic sprouts, it occurred to that I could totally do this. (Yeah, that's how I roll. You should have heard me talking to myself in the seed store; Well this looks easy enough...I could do this?)

I am very pleased with the ease of such an endeavor.

Purchase sprouting seed
Purchase sprouting screen
Sterilize wide mouth Mason jar
Sterilize seed
Soak seed for 8 hours
Drain
Rinse
Swish, drain
Rinse, swish, drain; twice daily.

Easy schmeasy!

For my first attempt I am sprouting Red Clover. I can't hardly contain my anticipation. I have been dreaming of fabulous sammies overflowing with fresh sprouts, salads teeming with crunchy little sprouts....ah the possibilities. And the health benefits!

I feel so cleaver.

Where have all the green backs gone? Part Deux

In a effort to make my self feel better help other folks out, I am going to start posting a helpful hints column at least once a month-more if there is interest.

As I am not sure what you, dear reader, would deem helpful, I need your input. In an effort to make the blog O' sphere a better place for all, won't you help me, help you?

I would like to share recipes, helpful tips and in general, creative ways to stretch our already gymnastic dollar.

In the comments for today, let me know what types of info you might find helpful, regarding this area.

**********

You can read Where have all the green backs gone? the first chapter here.