When I lived in Wyoming, I had the opportunity to flop my lip over some of the best tasting cinnamon rolls I've ever had. They were phenomenal. At least that's how I remember them.
Natalie Olmsted, a woman from church, had made them and they were the greatest things I had ever tasted. I remember I had several. This was back when my metabolism was AWESOME and I could eat whatever I wanted with no dire consequences. Now I can think about them and I feel my pants getting tighter.
I raved and raved to Natalie about her cinnamon rolls, she reached up, and ripped the recipe right off the inside of her cupboard door, and handed it to me. It was taped up with some old athletic tape, and had been typed out on a word processor. (Remember those?) I told her there was no way I was going to take her only copy of this recipe but she assured me she had it memorized and didn't need it. I was elated, because I had the recipe for doughy gold in my very hands.
Here we are at least 15 years later, and I have never made these. In fact, I forgot I had the recipe. I was thinking about what I wanted to eat for breakfast Christmas morning, and I remembered.....the best cinnamon rolls ever. I dug for the recipe and was quickly reminded of why I've never made them. I don't understand what dear old Natalie was saying. The recipe is confusing. I think I can make it out, but if I'm going to spend that much time making cinnamon rolls, I want to make sure I'm doing it right and not mostly winging it. I can wing it on anything in a skillet, but baking is a different ballgame entirely.
This is where I'm calling on you for a Christmas miracle. Help me figure out how the heck to make these decadent breakfast rolls!
I'm going to type it out exactly how it is on this piece of paper. It's like a map, and if you misstep, you'll fall into the pits of baking despair. All of my questions/additions are in italics. Natalie's original recipe is below. Help.
CINNAMON ROLLS
Natalie Olmsted
Bring to boil and set aside to cool:
2 c. water
1/2 c. sugar
1 Tbsp. salt
2 Tbsp. oleo
(so water, salt, sugar, and oleo to a boil together? And oleo...should I substitute shortening? or butter? or a little of both?)
Let yeast soften. (and how long does this take?)
2 pkg. yeast
1 tsp. sugar
1/2 c. warm water
When yeast is soft, add 3 beaten eggs and liquid mixture. (liquid mixture as in what I boiled and set aside to cool, right?) Add 5 cups of flour and mix well. Then add 2 1/2 cups of flour and mix well. (Why can't I just add 7 1/2 cups of flour right away?) Cover with damp cloth and foil paper and put in refrigerator for 5 hours or more. When ready to make out, (Hey Brent! We get to make out when I make these!) melt 1 cube of butter in a 13x9x3 inch cake pan. Takes two pans for this. Divide dough in half. Roll out to thickness desired. Pour melted butter over and spread. (Just as much melted butter as I deem deliciously necessary?) Sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon. Roll up and cut. In a pan put 1/2 pound of brown sugar. (And in cup sizes, half a pound is.....?) Raisins and nuts can be added to brown sugar. Place rolls on top. Take 1/8 cup of whipping cream, 1/8 cup of hot water and mix. Pour over each roll. Let raise until double in size. (and how long does this take? Overnight? A couple of hours?) Cook in a 375 oven, for 10 minutes, then 350 until golden brown. Turn out on foil paper. [This can be frozen after getting them in pans with cream and water poured over before they raise. Take out and let thaw and raise to double and then cook as before directed.]
[] This does not work very well. They don't raise very hi.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Why (do) We Live Here.
It's raining outside, I've got a hot cup of coffee, scentsy melting in the warmer across the room - pretty much the perfect fall day. That is, if I weren't sick, if Brent weren't sick, and if my daughter didn't have a fever. (I'm not sure she's sick per se, since she is cutting a tooth right now.) It's been quite the week with health - or lack thereof - in our house. Despite not feeling up to par, however, I will say it is the perfect fall day.
It's been a while since my last blog post - so long I don't even remember what the last one was about - and I don't really have anything funny or profound to share, but something about today just compelled me to sit and type. So...here I am with my mind mumbles.
Fall is absolutely my favorite season - football, the smells, colors, football, home decor, baked goods - I love everything about fall. Pumpkin bread, football, apple cider, pumpkin seeds, Thanksgiving (my second favorite holiday, following 4th of July), perfect knitting weather. Fall embodies most everything I love. Except the fact it's the segue to winter.
Winter in Wyoming wasn't always pleasant, but it was quick and painless. Snow today gone tomorrow, wind, wind, and more wind, and lots of sunshine. I complained every year about the cold, but I take back everything bad I ever said about a Wyoming winter. Ever. I'm dreading winter. D r e a d i n g.
Winter here is more than just a season. It's a test of survival. An actual way of life. Winter is a resident. With voting rights. It starts around Halloween - if we're lucky to hold out that long. It turns cold quickly. Then until May - we're in the tundra of white. I love white - it symbolizes purity, peace, renewal......unless you're in North Dakota and it symbolizes six months of the year.
Last winter we got over 84" of snow. SNOW. EIGHTY FOUR INCHES OF IT! Driving through town was like being a lab-rat in a maze....a maze of giant white walls. Can you find your way to work without getting broadsided or sliding through an intersection? Scientists are dying to know.
And the cold. When it goes more than a week without rising above 0, that's cold. I'm not talking below freezing, BELOW ZERO. Goose egg. Absence of all warmth. Below that. When the forecasted high is a negative number, that just doesn't do it for me.
We've lived here for almost six years (many of you just lost the bet we wouldn't last here this long) and we have lived through three of the TOP FIVE worst winters on record. Talk about a welcome-wagon. "Hi, welcome! This is what it would be like if hell actually froze over. Care for some kuchen?" I've gotta tell you, Germans, Norwegians, and German-Norwegians are some tough breeds of people. They settled here and didn't leave. And people say they're stubborn......
The worst is when the power goes out. Mostly because Brent makes fun of me for panicking, but it doesn't take long for the house to get cold when there's no furnace running. The power seems to go out in the middle of raging blizzards where the temperature isn't even on the radar. Something about high winds, brittle tree limbs, and above-ground power lines....I'm not sure, you do the math. My heroes - along with the flood fighters in the spring (we've got it all, folks - this is the land of opportunity!) - are the Xcel Energy employees who have to restore power in those conditions, up in a bucket truck being blinded by blowing snow and handling tools with gloved hands so I can stay warm.
Yet when you live through a spring (and survive yet another flood that is only supposed to occur every 100 years, but makes an annual appearance) and a summer here and experience the beautiful weather, the calm of the prairie, (and survive the tornadoes and brutal-but-awesome thunderstorms) - you realize why people stick around. It's always worth the wait. Besides, who doesn't love an adventure?
So here we are, another autumn. Another gateway to life on the frozen edge. I'll tell you what, though, I do love fall. This cup of coffee and unfinished sweater I've been working on for the last five months can attest to that.
I'm sure this post has got you wondering why I'm not a spokesperson for encouraging people to move here....I know, I wonder that too. Care for some kuchen?
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Why?
It's a question two-year-olds can't seem to ask enough. If you stop and think, though, adults probably ask it far more often, just not out loud. We're always questioning, always doubting, always trying to seek answers to things we don't have control over.
Why?
With all of the natural disasters that have occurred this year, I'm sure it's a question on many people's minds. Why the tsunami in Japan? Why the tornadoes in the south? Why the flooding in North Dakota?
Why?
I accuse my husband of always asking questions that can't be answered. He's a very logical, analytical thinker and needs to know the how's and whys of things, since he doesn't rely on emotions or gut-feelings like I do. I scold him every now and again for trying to determine the reasoning behind things we have absolutely no control over, or more specifically, for trying to determine the reason behind things I can't explain. (I don't know why I'm crying, I just am! Deal with it!)
It's no secret I'm not the best at rolling with the punches, and change is something it takes me a lot of time to adapt to. I tend to not question it, though, but rather focus my energy on what I can do to just keep going. Strength? Weakness? The answer is "yes." (grin)
There is one "why?" that has been lingering in my heart for a very long time, however. Why, dear God, why did you move us here?
Wyoming was my home. We moved there from California the summer before I turned 13. As time went on, it was just confirmed in my heart Wyoming was where I was meant to be. The wide open spaces, the mountains, the wildlife, the beauty, the people - I fell in love with all of it. And I fell hard. When Brent and I packed up and drove out of town on December 31st, 2005, I held a really strong front. But inside I was devastated. Broken. I was leaving everything and everyone I loved behind. And for what?
Months earlier when we realized I would (finally) be getting my AAS and we maybe needed to plan for a sustainable future, Brent wanted to return to school as well. He gave me the option of moving to Billings, Montana, or Dickinson, North Dakota. "I'm not living in North Dakota. If we have to move, let's go to Billings." Spoken like the very open-minded person I am....ahem.... We looked into jobs, housing, and schooling, and it seemed like nothing was coming together. As Billings was only about 100 miles from where we called home, I of course wanted to stick around. Alas, nothing came together. Nothing.
We prayed, we visited with our wonderful pastors at the church we were attending, and we prayed some more. One day after we had visited with Pastor Montey, we walked out of the church and I heard...yes, heard..."Fargo."
"Brent. Brent!"
"What?" He had walked ahead of me and stopped and turned around, as I was frozen where I stood.
"We're supposed to move to Fargo."
"Did God just tell you that?"
"......Yes."
"Cool." As he turns around and keeps walking.
UM, HELLO?! God just told me we're going to move to the far east side of the state I swore I wouldn't live in, and you just say, "Cool" and keep walking?! Help a sister out, here!
January 1st, 2006, we rolled in to the parking spot of our new home in North Dakota. Did you catch that? NORTH DAKOTA. A state I swore I would never reside. I'm not sure what I had against it, really. It wasn't Wyoming. My parents and sister weren't there. My friends weren't there. Mountains weren't there.
Why?
On several occasions, Brent has told me I haven't seemed as happy since moving here. The fact is, I'm not. I miss Wyoming. I miss my home. I miss my friends. I miss my family. Life was literally as perfect as it could have been. We had no real major struggles, no real hardships, I was surrounded by everything and everyone I loved. We moved here - and not so much. I have never been surrounded by so many friendly people and felt like no one was my friend. I was lonely, missing mountains, tired of the putrid smell from the compost station/dump, and the winter - Lord have mercy - the winter was awful. In Wyoming, it gets cold, it snows, and the wind is merciless. But in a few days, the snow is gone and the sun shines more often than not. Here, it gets cold, it snows, it snows some more, the wind is merciless, it snows some more, and in a few days, it snows some more. The snow falls and it's sticking around for months. MONTHS. And you're going to be surprised that I'm not as happy here? Really?
WHY DEAR GOD DID YOU MOVE US HERE?
The five and half years we've been here have had ups and downs. I can't rely on my parents for help every time I need something. They're 11 hours away opposed to 20 minutes. I don't have friends I've known since middle school who can read me like a book, know what I'm really trying to say, and have ancient memories with. I don't have the luxury of driving 5 minutes to my "thinking spot" which was a body of water, surrounded by mountains, and full of wildlife. I have to drive over an hour for a place somewhat like that (rolling hills don't really do it for me, though....). It just isn't what I wanted. And goodness knows, I should always get what I want.
Whoa. Spoiled much? Yeah.
So, I've resented God. For 5 1/2 years. I don't know why He moved us here, I don't love it here, I didn't ask to be here, so take that, God. Stick it. I'm mad at you.
Talk about a two year old.
We've had hardships and struggles. Brent and I struggled - and I mean struggled - in our marriage. Buying our house was a nightmare. (Meth pipe in the bathroom left behind by previous residents...remember that story? Yowzers!) Making friends, real true-grit friends, wasn't easy. Not only was it not easy, it just wasn't happening. Period. We longed for a church like the one we had left behind, and weren't finding it. I nearly died while pregnant with our first child. These types of things would be the situations that would cause unbelievers to cry out to God, begging him for help. Not me. You're going to move us here and then dump these problems on us? Whatever, God. I believe in you, and I served you, and I moved here because you told us to. Now this? Betcha I can do it better.
So here I sat. Pissy and resentful for 5 1/2 years. (And I wonder why it was hard to make and keep friends?)
A few months ago I joined a women's discipleship group that meets on Friday mornings. We've been going through books of the new testament, taking a few chapters and reading them over five times per week. There have been several heartwarming moments, and things I've come across in the Bible I'm seeing from a fresh perspective, which is nice. But this....oye.
Acts 17. One of the chapters we were supposed to read this last week. During the 3rd time through it, I came across verse 26, "From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live." It took the third time I read it for it to get me to stop and think. Whoa....wait....this could give me some insight here. You moved us here when you did on purpose...okay...but what purpose? WHY?
Verse 27, "God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us."
Ouch. No, really, ouch. I felt, when we lived in Wyo, I was very close with the Lord. I sought him in nearly all things, I ministered to his people, and my faith was reaching a pinnacle! I had it all going for me! Why would you move me away from that, to reach out to you, when I already was?
But, Val, you weren't.
I was so comfortable in my heaven-on-earth. I had my friends, I had my family, I had everything I knew, and I relied on all of it. I move here, I have none of those, and the one thing I still had, I neglected because I was mad at Him for leading me here! It's hard to reach out when you've got your arms folded across your chest while you pout.
So God decided, "Alright Val. Enough is enough. You've sulked long enough, and I'm going to answer your "why?" if you're ready to listen." I wasn't ready - it took me reading it 3 times before my eyes were opened to it.
And now here I am. In North Dakota. I've uncrossed my arms, I've stopped pouting, and I've realized I've been a big baby. I'm ready to reach, and I'm ready to grow, and I'm ready to let go of the resentment I've unjustly held for far too long. I'm now okay with the fact that it looks like I'm not going anywhere for a while.
And I'm proud to be a North Dakotan. You betcha.
Why?
With all of the natural disasters that have occurred this year, I'm sure it's a question on many people's minds. Why the tsunami in Japan? Why the tornadoes in the south? Why the flooding in North Dakota?
Why?
I accuse my husband of always asking questions that can't be answered. He's a very logical, analytical thinker and needs to know the how's and whys of things, since he doesn't rely on emotions or gut-feelings like I do. I scold him every now and again for trying to determine the reasoning behind things we have absolutely no control over, or more specifically, for trying to determine the reason behind things I can't explain. (I don't know why I'm crying, I just am! Deal with it!)
It's no secret I'm not the best at rolling with the punches, and change is something it takes me a lot of time to adapt to. I tend to not question it, though, but rather focus my energy on what I can do to just keep going. Strength? Weakness? The answer is "yes." (grin)
There is one "why?" that has been lingering in my heart for a very long time, however. Why, dear God, why did you move us here?
Wyoming was my home. We moved there from California the summer before I turned 13. As time went on, it was just confirmed in my heart Wyoming was where I was meant to be. The wide open spaces, the mountains, the wildlife, the beauty, the people - I fell in love with all of it. And I fell hard. When Brent and I packed up and drove out of town on December 31st, 2005, I held a really strong front. But inside I was devastated. Broken. I was leaving everything and everyone I loved behind. And for what?
Months earlier when we realized I would (finally) be getting my AAS and we maybe needed to plan for a sustainable future, Brent wanted to return to school as well. He gave me the option of moving to Billings, Montana, or Dickinson, North Dakota. "I'm not living in North Dakota. If we have to move, let's go to Billings." Spoken like the very open-minded person I am....ahem.... We looked into jobs, housing, and schooling, and it seemed like nothing was coming together. As Billings was only about 100 miles from where we called home, I of course wanted to stick around. Alas, nothing came together. Nothing.
We prayed, we visited with our wonderful pastors at the church we were attending, and we prayed some more. One day after we had visited with Pastor Montey, we walked out of the church and I heard...yes, heard..."Fargo."
"Brent. Brent!"
"What?" He had walked ahead of me and stopped and turned around, as I was frozen where I stood.
"We're supposed to move to Fargo."
"Did God just tell you that?"
"......Yes."
"Cool." As he turns around and keeps walking.
UM, HELLO?! God just told me we're going to move to the far east side of the state I swore I wouldn't live in, and you just say, "Cool" and keep walking?! Help a sister out, here!
January 1st, 2006, we rolled in to the parking spot of our new home in North Dakota. Did you catch that? NORTH DAKOTA. A state I swore I would never reside. I'm not sure what I had against it, really. It wasn't Wyoming. My parents and sister weren't there. My friends weren't there. Mountains weren't there.
Why?
On several occasions, Brent has told me I haven't seemed as happy since moving here. The fact is, I'm not. I miss Wyoming. I miss my home. I miss my friends. I miss my family. Life was literally as perfect as it could have been. We had no real major struggles, no real hardships, I was surrounded by everything and everyone I loved. We moved here - and not so much. I have never been surrounded by so many friendly people and felt like no one was my friend. I was lonely, missing mountains, tired of the putrid smell from the compost station/dump, and the winter - Lord have mercy - the winter was awful. In Wyoming, it gets cold, it snows, and the wind is merciless. But in a few days, the snow is gone and the sun shines more often than not. Here, it gets cold, it snows, it snows some more, the wind is merciless, it snows some more, and in a few days, it snows some more. The snow falls and it's sticking around for months. MONTHS. And you're going to be surprised that I'm not as happy here? Really?
WHY DEAR GOD DID YOU MOVE US HERE?
The five and half years we've been here have had ups and downs. I can't rely on my parents for help every time I need something. They're 11 hours away opposed to 20 minutes. I don't have friends I've known since middle school who can read me like a book, know what I'm really trying to say, and have ancient memories with. I don't have the luxury of driving 5 minutes to my "thinking spot" which was a body of water, surrounded by mountains, and full of wildlife. I have to drive over an hour for a place somewhat like that (rolling hills don't really do it for me, though....). It just isn't what I wanted. And goodness knows, I should always get what I want.
Whoa. Spoiled much? Yeah.
So, I've resented God. For 5 1/2 years. I don't know why He moved us here, I don't love it here, I didn't ask to be here, so take that, God. Stick it. I'm mad at you.
Talk about a two year old.
We've had hardships and struggles. Brent and I struggled - and I mean struggled - in our marriage. Buying our house was a nightmare. (Meth pipe in the bathroom left behind by previous residents...remember that story? Yowzers!) Making friends, real true-grit friends, wasn't easy. Not only was it not easy, it just wasn't happening. Period. We longed for a church like the one we had left behind, and weren't finding it. I nearly died while pregnant with our first child. These types of things would be the situations that would cause unbelievers to cry out to God, begging him for help. Not me. You're going to move us here and then dump these problems on us? Whatever, God. I believe in you, and I served you, and I moved here because you told us to. Now this? Betcha I can do it better.
So here I sat. Pissy and resentful for 5 1/2 years. (And I wonder why it was hard to make and keep friends?)
A few months ago I joined a women's discipleship group that meets on Friday mornings. We've been going through books of the new testament, taking a few chapters and reading them over five times per week. There have been several heartwarming moments, and things I've come across in the Bible I'm seeing from a fresh perspective, which is nice. But this....oye.
Acts 17. One of the chapters we were supposed to read this last week. During the 3rd time through it, I came across verse 26, "From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live." It took the third time I read it for it to get me to stop and think. Whoa....wait....this could give me some insight here. You moved us here when you did on purpose...okay...but what purpose? WHY?
Verse 27, "God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us."
Ouch. No, really, ouch. I felt, when we lived in Wyo, I was very close with the Lord. I sought him in nearly all things, I ministered to his people, and my faith was reaching a pinnacle! I had it all going for me! Why would you move me away from that, to reach out to you, when I already was?
But, Val, you weren't.
I was so comfortable in my heaven-on-earth. I had my friends, I had my family, I had everything I knew, and I relied on all of it. I move here, I have none of those, and the one thing I still had, I neglected because I was mad at Him for leading me here! It's hard to reach out when you've got your arms folded across your chest while you pout.
So God decided, "Alright Val. Enough is enough. You've sulked long enough, and I'm going to answer your "why?" if you're ready to listen." I wasn't ready - it took me reading it 3 times before my eyes were opened to it.
And now here I am. In North Dakota. I've uncrossed my arms, I've stopped pouting, and I've realized I've been a big baby. I'm ready to reach, and I'm ready to grow, and I'm ready to let go of the resentment I've unjustly held for far too long. I'm now okay with the fact that it looks like I'm not going anywhere for a while.
And I'm proud to be a North Dakotan. You betcha.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)