#quarter mennonite

[skiddo-xy]

wikipedia, pakistan and low german...i feel represented

[oldguy56-world]

As You Like It

This is the 2nd blog I have written named after a Shakespearian play that was turned into a movie. (Last October i did Much Ado About Nothing). Perhaps I should stick with this theme for a while. I could do Hamlet (story of an undersized pig) or Macbeth (the Scottish version of a Kiss hit song) Perhaps not. Let's stick to today's theme shall we?

Have you noticed that people are different. I am not kidding you. We like different things and for no apparent reason at all. Some companies have taken advantage of this. Harvey's is one of them. They make your burgers to order and based on the number of ingredients available there are a possible 11, 296,371 different ways to serve their burgers. They should have an employee contest to see how many different ways each one can dress up a burger. They could use the distraction. Me, I like mine one way only and that is with mustard and ketchup. My wife likes hers with a bunch of other stuff. I am not sure what exactly as I try not to watch. The opposite end of the spectrum is McDonald's. When I go in for a quarter pounder I ask for it with ketchup only. (they don't use, or have never heard about mustard). When I order it my way (no reference to Burger King) the entire place goes silent. The cook comes out of the back to see who is upsetting their assembly line of production. There is usually some snickering and pointing but I hold my ground. The upside is upon occasion when they get it wrong and I point it out to them they will shoot me a freebie. That is always nice.

My father was always a potato guy. He liked them every way except baked. He would throw a fit if the peel was still on it. To quote him 'is it too much g*%#&#@ effort for them to peel it for me?' Once the waiter asked if he would like to substitute rice for his potatoes. My mother was quick enough to grab his knife before it became bloody. I cannot find the words to explain what my father thought about rice.

Speaking of restaurants, they must love it when people substitute what they are supposed to get for something else. The waiter will say that 'today's special is grilled chicken breast with a pilaf of rice and steamed broccoli for $17.99'. The patron will order it and ask 'Can you change the rice to fries, the broccoli to corn, and while you are at it can the chicken breast be a beef tenderloin?' The waiter will explain that they cannot substitute the meat and that they do not have corn. The patron will be pissed and say under their breath that this will affect the tip they leave.

People like different hair styles. That is a good thing because if we all were required to wear a 'Moe' it might be hard to tell people apart. Same goes for clothing. It is creepy watching those movies from the future where everyone has on the same outfit. If you want that kind of uniformity there is a lovely Mennonite community waiting to embrace you Goodfriend. For me I have a unique style. My hair color is Absent Black and my clothing is retro Sally Ann. My wife is okay with my hair (or lack thereof) but she does have a say in what I wear out in public. FYI her say is the final word always.

My wife and I are very different people. Luckily she likes me enough to not say much about my eating, dressing (as long as we are not going out), or talking habits. She also likes my sense of humor which is good. Not everyone gets me just like I don't get some of these so-called comedians or comedies on TV. The networks are paying big bucks for some not funny material. I know I can write unfunny material and would gladly do it for half of the going rate. I can even make fart sounds with almost every part of my body so that must be worth something.

My philosophy is that if you like something, and it doesn't hurt other people, do it for the enjoyment. My only request is that if you like mushing your food together and putting it all in you mouth at one time, please, please, please do not do this within eyeshot of me. This hurts me deeply. My only retaliation would be to make a farting sound from the one part of my body you do not want me to engage thusly. Fair is fair.

PLEASE NOTE: NEXT WEEK'S BLOG WILL BE LATE. WE ARE HAVING OUR FAMILY HERE FOR FOUR DAYS TO CELEBRATE AN EARLY CHRISTMAS, SO NO NASTY NOTES PLEASE.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Variety is the spice of life. Spice is a variety that your body might not like.

[sequencefairy]

Disclaimer before I tell this story: I like to drive fast, I know the dimensions of my vehicle, I know what gap I can fit into, I commit to my choices when I'm in care and control of my vehicle. Second-guessing yourself will get you killed, so decide quickly, and then make your move. Fast and accurate, people.

Couple of weeks ago, I was driving to the city from home. Home is a small town, and the city's the city. Lotsa traffic. I regularly get frustrated with people in the city who don't use their signals, or who try to change lanes into the side of me, or who run lights, etc. But the drive in is nice at that hour of the morning, usually! It's county roads and then the highway and usually I'm leaving early enough that I miss most of the traffic.

So, I'm past halfway, and I'm in a little group of cars and we're stretched out doing like, I dunno, a buck fifteen (speed limit is 80km/h, roads were dry, sun is rising, no one is following too close), and behind me, on my left, I see this pick up truck.

He probably did eight of us, hauled in two cars ahead of me, and then popped out again to do three more, and then two more, and then i lost him over the crest of the hill. If we were doing a buck fifteen, he had to have been pushing a buck thirty going by me. Where's a cop when you fuckin' need one, right?

So, I'm like whatever, he'll get his someday. Firm believer in the balancing hand of the universe, me.

We come up to this lone traffic light, which is usually green, but today, someone must've been coming up from the other county road, and that's chill, it's green again, but we're slowing waaaaay down because at the head of the line is a full grain truck. He's getting himself going and shifting through his many gears to do it, and it takes a while! It's fine, I know he'll get up to speed and I know we're coming up to a town where the speed limit drops to 60km/h halfway up a hill and then 40km/h through the centre of town, so I am not minding that we're taking our time.

This little Chevy SUV roars past me on the left, and he's making stupid passing decisions. The pickup truck earlier wasn't making the best choices, but he wasn't passing going up a blind hill or nipping in and out without a signal which is making everyone in our little column nervy, which means brake lights and people bunching up, and I'm like, okay, well, this is getting dangerous, so I'm backing off and off and leaving a bunch of space between me and the SUV in front of me, you know, just in case we gotta stop suddenly 'cause the idiot has caused a wreck further up.

At this point, I'm really starting to wonder why I haven't seen a single fuckin' cop this whole trip. There's usually at least one, and sometimes also a ghost car doing a speed trap, but there's been nada today.

We get to where the speed limit drops, and the grain truck turns into the feed mill, as I figured he would, and then traffic slows to a fuckin' crawl. Sure, it's 40km/h on the other side of the lights, but like, it should still be moving. So I'm like, what has happened? Is there a farm implement? A horse and buggy? (I do this entire drive through Mennonite country after all).

Then, I notice debris on the road. Bits of car. And I'm thinking oh no.

And then, I see it.

On my right, pulled over to the side, out of traffic, I spy the little Chevy SUV. His driver's side rear quarter panel is mangled, his tire's gone. The guy's out of the car gabbing on his phone so he's clearly fine. And THEN, on my left, on the shoulder, as we all crawl through town, in front of the private school that is the reason for this speed limit, is the pickup truck from before!

His right passenger front quarter panel is scraped to shit, his front bumper is hanging off. He's standing in front of his truck, hands on his hips, looking very put out by his circumstances.

I have never in my life seen karma applied with such a precision edge. No other vehicles were involved. Just the two idiots who were in such a fuckin' hurry they were probably playing leap frog chicken in a school zone. Truly, a thrilling conclusion to that drive.

[rachelanne2018writes]

Across The Plains- Chapter 3: The Old White Church on the Hill.

SURPRISE!!!

I *fInally* got the writing bug back, and felt able to add another Chapter on my favorite ongoing work Across The Plains.

Special shout out and thank you to the random kudos I received a while back for getting me excited to write.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think. :)

In small towns, there are always those few points that those in the area find comfort in gathering at. These places become more than a grocery store, gymnasium, bank branch, or church. They become places where news lives and community thrives. But often the most powerful and frequently visited, aside from the grocery store, is often the church.

Upon a slight hill, stood the church of choice for a majority of the Goessel Area. Alexanderwohl Mennonite Church. Alexanderwohl was the church that had stood the test of time, after being started by the first Mennonite settlers in the area. It had come a long way since the days of being housed in an immigrant house and one room schools to worship. This was a church that welcomed congregants at their infant blessing, and continued to pray over them through their childhood blessing, receiving their first bible, being baptized in their last years of school, marrying the person of their dreams, and concluding their lives with their funeral. A full and complete circle within the church sanctuary. 

That afternoon, as Shelagh rode to church with her sisters and young Timothy Turner, she thought more about Marianne. She hadn’t known her well, although as was typical they would greet each other in passing. Marianne had been the definition of a cradle mennonite. At her funeral, they recounted her early childhood days, her baptism, and her marriage to Dr. Turner. The more she thought about Marianne and who she was as a person, she realized that Marianne had given her a number of opportunities- including singing with the church choir, accompanying the children when they performed both at the church and at the town school.

Even though Shelagh began every morning with devotions and prayer in the Hospital's chapel with her sisters in Christ, something about being in the sanctuary of Alexanderwohl Mennonite Church felt powerful beyond measure. Maybe it was something to do with the upcoming annual baptismal service, or maybe it was because Timothy Turner was staying with them in the Sister’s quarters behind the hospital. 

This year seemed a bit different though, even though Shelagh had been involved in the community and church more than ever before, she felt empty and alone. Even during their morning services in the Hospital Chapel, it felt as though God was no longer interceding in her life.

Meanwhile back at Bethesda

“Trixie, could you have a look at Mary Schrag? It seems to me that her labor has stalled, and poor thing  is  miserable.” Jenny Lee asked Trixie Franklin.

“Of course Jenny, poor thing. I’ll pop in once i’ve checked in on Mrs. Kauffman in room 12.”

“Thank you Trixie, Have you seen Cynthia?”

“Of course sweetie, last I saw her Cynthia was with Mrs. Wohlgemuth.”

“Thank you!” Jenny Lee as she rushed back down the hall to Mary Schrag’s room.

These scenes were typical when the Sisters attended their duties in the Church. Trixie was often given the role of lay nurse in charge. Although she was prohibited from being called a Ward Sister, as the Deaconesses preferred for the community to be able to tell who was a lay nurse and who was a professed deaconess, she took kindly to the term Nurse in Charge.

That night, as the plains lay under a blanket of a million stars, Shelagh seconded herself to the hospital chapel to pray and discern what God was trying to speak to her. This particular night however, she did not feel the chapel’s usual comfort surrounding her- instead she felt an emptiness, a coolness, that couldn’t be described as anything other than strange.

As Shelagh walked back to the Sister’s quarters, she pondered the feeling- was she going through a Faith Crisis? She couldn’t be certain, as it was a topic that had only briefly been touched on only during her Deaconess training, as Sister Julienne didn’t feel that it was a particularly important topic for the group of sisters that called Bethesda home.

As she fell asleep that night, she resolved to request a meeting with the Reverend Friesen next week after service to reassure herself that this wasn’t a faith crisis, and that the feelings she’d had that night in the chapel were just a rare instance of her mind being unsettled. Was this a sign that she shouldn’t have become a deaconess?

[ereardon]

I love camping so much, in a tent. My husband and I have several places we camp. Most often in a campground, but a couple of them are Backcountry sites.

A group camping trip? The BEST! We did one with my coworkers years ago and it was amazing. We set up tents and cooked over the fire, drank and shared stories. The next day we went canoeing on the most gentle river I've ever been on. (I prefer whitewater rafting).

You cannot see the sunrise over the mountains and watch and feel the day unfold the same way from inside. It is magical.

There's also something to be said about right quarters, sleeping bags and things that happen between two consenting adults with the sounds of crickets and a creek right outside. It is HOT!

Damn it, now I want to go camping.

Lol to each their own I think! I am just NOT an outdoorsy person at all. I hate being sweaty, not showering at the end of the night, I detest bugs, I don't even really like grass. I am a city girl through and through.

I will say I went whitewater rafting last summer in West Virginia and loved it! That was exciting as hell. It was also so chaotic ... we got put on a bus with another family and then about 30 Mennonites. It had rained all week so the water levels were super high. 2 of the rafts of Mennonites flipped against this huge rock, sending them tumbling into the water in the full on, floor length white dresses. Oh and some of them didn't even know how to swim, so the one we picked up in our raft was literally pale as a ghost, PETRIFIED. Refused to let go of the paddle we stretched out for her for a solid 4 minutes. Finally we hauled her drowned ass into our boat where she proceeded to cough like she was going to vomit for a solid few minutes. Vomit is my biggest fear so I started to try to jump out of the raft lmao and my husband grabbed my life jacket and was like sit your ass back down.

[radfemsiren]

It’s so crazy, they treat them like tools to be used to the maximum, then discarded

Multiple horse rescue pages have said that whenever they find a skeletal looking horse covered in whip marks… they know it was dumped by Amish or Mennonites

They don’t treat the women any better. My family, strict Muslims, signed up for this fishing trip once and were in close quarters with a Mennonite group… the Christian father would say things that would shock even my insanely misogynistic Muslim father.

Like he made a joke once in front of his daughters and us about shooting women after 3 warnings like shooting disobedient horses… even my dad was like, “Yeesh” 😭

Watched a video about amish ppl and the girl making the video was all "well they seem happy and the religion seems pretty much unproblematic so who am i to say anything is wrong?"

And in the same breath goes "sexual assault particularly of young girls is rampant in the amish community" and it's like....

HUH....i wonder why that is?????

Could it be that a uniquely isolated community run by the most strict gender roles imaginable and extremely religious is actually bad for women and girls?

nah. Just let them do what they want, they're not hurting anyone

[minnesotadruids]

Peppernuts: Connecting With the Ancestors... 

On the Mennonite side of my family, the surnames that pop up are largely Belgian, Dutch, and Low German. Peppernuts, or Pfeffernüsse are tiny cookies that are about as old as the spice trade, and would have likely been an ancestral tradition in my family going back as much as 500 years.

My grandmother was always the one to make these for the winter holiday season. If my cousins or I would ask if we can help with the cookies and the zwieback buns, grandma would inevitably tell us to go play and she’d take care of it all. I never realized until she passed away in 2009 that this meant that she wasn’t passing the traditions down at all. When she was in hospice I had asked for her zwieback recipe, and she was happy that I wanted to take on that tradition, but it meant that I can never ask her questions about the confusing details. 

Not only was she the first in our lineage to write the recipe down, but there were notes on the side written in Low German, which is markedly different than modern High German. Low German (AKA Plautdietsch) doesn’t really have much for translation resources, and I only know a Low German a nursery rhyme that doesn’t really even exist anymore. But this isn’t about the zwieback, this is about the peppernuts! My mom rediscovered grandma’s peppernuts recipe about two years ago, so both her, my sister, and I started making them. Although technology has advanced, it still helps me connect with the ancestors.

These little aromatic and spiced cookies are really easy to make if you have one extra helper after the dough is ready. One batch easily makes like 400 cookies, I kid you not – but they’re supposed to be small, coming out like the size of a 4 or 6 notched Lego block. They’re supposed to be hard cookies, at least that’s how grandma liked them. Kept you from eating more than 5 in one sitting because they would make your jaw hurt. Tonight’s batch was too big to fit into a one gallon ice cream bucket, so assuming I’m the only one that made them this year, I’ll be sharing them with the family at their Christmas dinner. Without further ado, here is the recipe:

Ancestral Peppernut (Pfeffernüsse) Recipe

There are so many variants, so substitute* as needed.

PREP: ½ cup coffee 1 tsp baking soda stirred into coffee

MIX: 1 cup butter 1 cup sugar 2 cups brown sugar 2 eggs, beaten 1 tsp anise extract

ADD: 5 & ¼ cups flour

SMALL BOWL: 1 tsp salt 1 tsp fine black or white pepper ½ tsp allspice 1 tsp cinnamon

Add dry spices to batter. Add the soda-coffee after mixing in most of the flour (gives the coffee time to cool so it doesn't cook the eggs). Burn out the motor in your hand mixer and finish mixing the dough by hand. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap or wax paper and chill until the temperature is consistent throughout (at least 30 min). Take small handfuls of dough at a time (no larger than a ping-pong ball) and roll into half-inch thick logs (between the thickness if your little finger but no larger than the thickness of a washable marker). Cut the dough rope into square (or then roll them into round) pieces. If rounded, no wider than a dime. They will expand to about the size of a quarter in diameter. Place pieces on cookie sheet (bakers paper helps) one inch apart.

Bake at 350° for 10-15 minutes or until golden-brown. Once cool, the cookies are supposed to be almost hard like biscotti, which is why it's important to keep them bite-sized in order to break fewer teeth at once. Recipe makes several hundred. Store at room temp for 1 week, then freeze for up to a month. Dip in coffee or tea to soften, or enjoy them as they fossilize with each passing day.

*Other recipes add any combination of the following in ½ or 1 tsp of: nutmeg, ground cloves, ground ginger, and/or vanilla extract.

[fatehbaz]

St Louis is where storms collide.

Without the moderating effect of a coastline or major mountain range, cold air sweeps unopposed down from the Arctic to meet a warm, humid front marching north from the Gulf of Mexico. The two finally lock in combat over the Mississippi flatlands, emptying their arsenals to barrage the area with blizzards, thunderstorms, and tornados. In recent years, growing climate chaos has only intensified this ambient war, each “extreme weather event” more volatile and less predictable. And as the air currents grapple over the middleAmerican sky, the storm-swollen Mississippi grinds forward below. Once-uncommon “freak floods” are now standard, the levees overcome every few years and large chunks of St Louis and its surrounding suburbs washed away by the intractable inertia of a river bound to outlive any city.

The result is another slow apocalypse.

In January 2016, people from the surrounding suburbs poured into Red Cross shelters, unable to return to homes torn apart by the rising water. But even with such disasters gradually becoming the new, more violent equilibrium, federal aid is perpetually insufficient. [...] Politics in these conditions can only appear apolitical, as all functional organizing is given political significance when confronted with devastation of such scale: Baptists and Mennonites organizing supply caravans through the wreckage of long-decayed postwar suburbs, the crosses emblazoned on their white vans floating above silt-clogged cul-de-sacs.

Such stories of environmental destruction are, however, only one dimension of a much-deeper global economic catastrophe that takes different forms in different regions.

---

In many ways, St Louis is a city without a region, stuck between the Midwest, the South, and the Great Plains - and as such it seems to act as a sort of vaguely generalizable image of a mythic middle America slowly being lost. 

Economically, it’s an intersection between Rust Belt and Corn Belt, only barely outside the new sunbelt yet falling short of its river-port counterparts. It was one of the many cities left behind by the wave of deindustrialization. After its postwar heyday, the entire metro area saw massive population loss, at first concentrated downtown but soon spreading out to neighboring suburbs as well. This process only deepened long-standing racial divides. Meanwhile, attempts to resuscitate the city by focusing on capital-intensive manufacturing and biotech have only ensured a further cloistering of wealth and a hardening of racial divides between neighborhoods.

Today postwar houses and small clusters of low-rise apartment complexes are sprinkled out across the humid floodplain. When the river overspills its levees, entire suburban cities can be washed away, as was the case in the small, predominantly white working-class suburb of West Alton in 2016. Wedged between the Missouri and Mississippi, just before their confluence north of St Louis proper, the entire city was evacuated, with a quarter to a third of the population expected never to return. [...]

There are small islands of gentrification within the city proper, as well as the remains of more affluent suburbs, largely west of the city -- the foremost of these being small municipalities like Town and Country, a largely white golf course suburb that boasts the highest median income of any city in Missouri. These richer locales are buffered by a spectrum of poorer ones [...].

In St Louis, these divergent dynamics are colliding, and the city is being reshaped according to this economic battle, itself only an echo of that greater chaos foreboded by warring storms.

---

All text above by: Phil Neel. Hinterland: America’s New Landscape of Class and Conflict. 2018. [Some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil leads Amazon in forest loss this year, Indigenous and protected areas hold out

[Image description: eforestation hotspots across the Amazon in 2021 (as of September 18). Data: University of Maryland (GLAD), Amazon Conservation Association/MAAP.]

Satellite imagery brings us a first look at this year’s deforestation hotspots, areas where forest cover was lost in high densities across the Amazon, amounting to more than 860,000 hectares (2.1 million acres).

The majority of deforestation (76%) occurred in Brazil and was clustered around roads, according to a recent report from Amazon Conservation’s Monitoring of the Andean Amazon Project (MAAP); many of the areas deforested this year in Brazil have also burned.

In Colombia, deforestation hotspots this year were in and around numerous protected areas, including Tinigua and Chiribiquete national parks, as well as Indigenous reserves, particularly Yari-Yaguara II and Nukak Maku; in Peru, rice farming and a new Mennonite colony drove recent deforestation.

Of primary forests loss across the western Amazon between 2017 and 2020, three-quarters were outside protected areas and Indigenous territories, highlighting the importance of these key land use designations for safeguarding the remaining Amazon rainforest.

Continue reading.

[ahedderick]

   Christmas 2010 or thereabouts. We used to get our Christmas trees from a tree farm about a half an hour drive away. It was always a fun trip; pick out the tree, cut it down, chat with the owner a while, and visit the Mennonite grocery store for treats on the way home. This particular year we had lost our older dog, and Lucy was terribly lonely, so we took her along with us.

   The next year we adopted Chance, and Lucy was happier. It had been fun to take her along for the tree, though, so we loaded both the dogs in the truck with us for Christmas ‘11. Chance had to sit in my lap. The prior day my husband had gotten a deer and cut it into quarters to store in the fridge (I finished the butchering once it was in manageable pieces). The dogs had partaken of many scraps. Partaken richly. Maybe too richly. As I sat in the truck, halfway to the tree farm, arms around the dog, I felt a strange rumbling in his torso. He then produced the largest, foulest, most obnoxious burp known to mankind. You’ve heard of ‘beer burps’; this was a ‘deer burp’. Every human in the truck erupted in commotion. Windows were frantically rolled down. There was yelling and retching. Chance wagged, feeling much better. Lucy, in the back seat, sniffed the air with approval. Then, choosing her moment, she burped, too.

   These days we cut our tree from a stand of crowded cedars on a hill at my father’s place. It’s closer to home, and the dogs still enjoy going along.

Dec 8, 2021

[whattolearntoday]

October 6th is...

Badger Day -  Badgers have a long history and reputation among humans, and there are few who have actually seen one alive and in person. Badger Day raises awareness of the need to protect badgers from human predation and brings issues of habitat and health concerns to the common man. The word for Badger comes from the French ‘Bucher’, which means digger, brought from their tendency to burrow underground and create sets where they raise their families and stay during the day. Badgers, as it turns out, are largely nocturnal, explaining why they’re so rarely seen by most people.

Coaches Day -  Across the country in every community, a coach organizes teams, plans practices and training, motivates players to strive to be the best they can be. At the same time, coaches pinpoint areas for improvement and supply guidance. Every sport or competition requires a leader. More importantly, a leader who knows the game and drives athletes to work together as a team.

Coffee With A Cop Day -  Inspired by the cliche about officers and their coffee shop donuts, the national observance encourages communities to sponsor an event that will bring citizens and those on patrol together. The events provide an opportunity for open dialogue and improve communication. They also break down barriers and create a valuable bridge to relationships in our communities.

German-American Day - Celebrates the German heritage millions of Americans claim. This German-American heritage holiday commemorates the 13 German Mennonite families from Krefeld who landed in Philadelphia. On October 6, 1683, these families established the first German settlement in the original thirteen colonies. They named it Germantown.

Mad Hatter Day -  Taking our inspiration from The Mad Hatter (or any of Carroll’s characters for that matter) we may pursue laughable, absurd, or even confusing adventures. Breakout from the usual routine. Ask ridiculous riddles much like The Hatter’s own, “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” Play croquet with plastic pink flamingos or wear a funny hat to work. Celebrate the day with silliness!

Noodle Day -  Noodles are made by rolling unleavened dough out and cutting into a variety of shapes.  While long, flat noodles may seem to be the most common, they come in several forms, names, and textures.  And each kind of noodle pairs differently with sauces and meals.

Orange Wine Day -  Originally made nearly 6,000 years ago in Eastern Europe, the technique for making orange wine is being rediscovered. Surprisingly, winemakers do not add oranges to the wine at all. Unlike the latest beer trends, the wine comes by its color naturally. Fermented from white wine grapes, the orange wine develops through more skin contact during the fermentation process. Makers treat the white grapes like red grapes preserving the bolder body and tannins. As a result, the ordinarily white wine will deepen into a brandy orange color.

Plus Size Appreciation Day -  Stereotypes could fill this page to describe plus size men and women, but then we have to consider that more than half the U.S. population is plus-sized.  That means big and tall, full-bodied and robust persons fill roles that require well-rounded and amply skilled people.  With this talent pool comes buying power some retailers have yet to appreciate.

Pumpkin Seed Day - Among other civilizations, the Aztecs and Mayans were believed to revere pumpkin seeds as an essential and powerful source of food and nutrition. In comparison to other nuts and seeds, Pumpkin Seeds are one of the most nutritious plant-based foods. A quarter-cup serving alone includes an immune-boosting 17% of an adult’s daily allowance of zinc and a robust red blood cell-supporting 15% of the iron needed. This little seed also has a whopping 8.5 grams of complete plant-based protein in just 1 ounce. Ounce for ounce, that’s 2.5 times more protein than a hard-boiled egg. 

Random Acts Of Poetry Day - Encourages outbursts of poetry. The day for poets and poet wannabes spreads random poetry through art, the written word, and voice.

Walk To School Day - Walking is one of the best forms of exercise. It isn’t hard on our joints and feet like running and jogging but still gives us all the advantages. The goal of this day is to raise awareness and support for the health, community and environmental benefits of regularly walking or biking to school.

World Cerebral Palsy Day -  Over 17 million people in the world have cerebral palsy. In the United States, 500,000 children have CP, making it the most common physical disability in childhood. This non-progressive neurological disorder is usually the result of a loss of oxygen to the brain either before, during, or shortly after birth. Babies born prematurely are especially susceptible to cerebral palsy.

World Financial Planning Day - There is a difference between a financial advisor and a financial planner. A financial advisor is a professional who helps people manage their money and investments. A financial planner may do these things as well. However, an important difference is that financial planners help their clients create and achieve long-term financial goals. Financial planners work with the general public and companies.

[copperbadge]

ameliahcrowley replied to your photoset “I had a BUNCH of apples and decided making apple crumble was too much...”

Jane Austen would be intensley jealous.

Was she a particular fan of apples? I mean, this apple butter could inspire jealousy in anyone, mind you...

arukou-arukou replied to your photoset “I had a BUNCH of apples and decided making apple crumble was too much...”

That is not an apple corer. That is a torture device cleverly disguised as a kitchen implement.

It’s fucking awesome is what it is. I cook with apples like twice a year and I’m still considering buying one. It leaves so much more pulp on the apple than I ever have peeling by hand, and it cores and chops it at the same time so you just slide it off, hack it into quarters, and dump it in. Fantastic. 

niennanir replied to your photoset “I had a BUNCH of apples and decided making apple crumble was too much...”

proper Amish apple butter is supposed to be runny, your mennonite pirate ancestors would be proud

Oh excellent! In that case I will refer to it as “mennonite-style” and claim I did it on purpose. :D

sourassin replied to your photoset

“I had a BUNCH of apples and decided making apple crumble was too much...”

Oh, yeah, I should- I should eat a fruit

I heartily recommend dumping just a fuckton of sugar on it and eating it that way, it’s working well for me. :D 

junker5 replied to your photoset “I had a BUNCH of apples and decided making apple crumble was too much...”

Looks amazing! Bet the Speakeasy smells great!

It smelled fantastic for hours yesterday. I can still get whiffs of it when I walk in the kitchen, it’s GREAT. 

memprime replied to your photoset “I had a BUNCH of apples and decided making apple crumble was too much...”

I love how you posted the recipe and then completely changed all the ingredients in it. LOL

viga-kottr replied to your photoset “I had a BUNCH of apples and decided making apple crumble was too much...”

The fact that you posted a recipe where you used less than half the actual ingredients amuses me greatly. Hope it tastes nice.

Look, this is quarantine cooking, we work with what we have! (I did actually have apple cider vinegar and vanilla, I just figured it was a good chance to test out the vanilla vinegar.) 

brainwad replied to your post “gunkatcosplay replied to your post “The Mysterious Fistbump is ready...”

Honestly, I can't mentally connect any picture of you with my mental image of you, which is that of a golden retriever in black rimmed glasses and a cable knit sweater.

I mean, I currently am wearing black rimmed glasses and a fleecy hoodie so you are not far off :D 

[kvgeog4390]

Say Cheese and pick a filter

In lu of our class excursion to Millbank and St Jacobs on Friday to present on various components of rural life in two close but quite different towns, I noticed something interesting – why was cheese priced so differently? In the Millbank cheese factory a literal brick of cheese, and I mean a brick this guy was hefty, could be purchased for a few dollars - $3.48 is the price that sticks out in my mind. Comparatively in a St Jacobs, a much smaller piece, maybe a quarter of the size was priced three times as much! What’s with that?

Though cheese is my no means an indicator of a town at large, these price differences for the same product show that one town was created to promote a certain mentality of what rural areas are – or in the very least what the visitor idealized. Though lovely and walkable with cute shops St Jacobs aims to promote the message that they are a cute little rural place that people visit because it is St Jacobs and a nice little drive to the country before taking your $9 dollar cheese slices and artisan sausage home. I would be very surprised if those living in St Jacobs would ever go into the shops for shopping anything other than a single gift here or there – they most defiantly would go down the street to the actual grocery store for their cheese purchases. Alternatively in Milbank the grocery store there was certainly gentrified to a point with a cute barn like exterior and the cheese store was one of two businesses to have websites of their own. The stores in Millbank were directly firstly to the residents of the town with a consideration to the occasional tourist brought in for Anne Mae’s pies the next street over.

Cheese aside, the underlying question is how rural spaces and ‘the country’ are shaped by how we desire these spaces to look? Further, what does this do to those who call the areas home if their home is drastically changed and gentrified for the consumption of weekend tourists who zoom in for a few hours and zoom out with some cheese and a meticulously carved wooden chair or two? In our discussions we learned that St Jacobs is facing a rising exodus in the last few years of Mennonite families in particular who say that the area is getting too busy. Mennonite families are by no means an attraction, they are people first, a people who are commonly associated with the St Jacobs and Waterloo area and are facing increased pressures to move away as the area becomes busier. If ‘the country’ no longer feels like home to those who grew up there – how much rural is left in the area? And how much staging and cost goes into maintaining rural idylls?

[newyorker]

Where the Amish Go on Vacation

Each winter, for close to a century now, hundreds of Amish and Mennonite families have travelled from their homes in icy quarters of the U.S. and Canada to Pinecraft, a small, sunny neighborhood in Sarasota, Florida. Arriving on chartered buses specializing in the transportation of “Plain people” from areas such as Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and Holmes County, Ohio, they rent modest bungalows and stay for weeks, or sometimes months, at a time. It’s vacation. For many, it’s the one time of the year that they spend with people from communities other than their own. 

Earrings, usually forbidden, can be seen glittering from beneath white bonnets, and houses are outfitted with satellite dishes. Horses and buggies are nowhere to be seen, but adult-sized tricycles abound. Swimming, volleyball, and shuffleboard are encouraged; ice-cream cones are a nightly ritual.

Read more. 

[bapkia483238026-blog]

The Definition Of Organizational Development

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[celestial-satyr]

We paid $35 for over 10lbs. of local strawberries that we picked fresh from an amazing Mennonite family and ended up with a gallon bag of frozen strawberries, a packed quart bag of dried strawberries (for yummy oatmeal), 2 pints of strawberry preserves (for baking yummy treats during the cold winter months), 2 quarter pints of strawberry syrup (for crepes and waffles), and 9 pints of jam! No preservatives, just sugar and strawberries! With the leftovers I made my favorite recipe of strawberry cupcakes with strawberry buttercream frosting topped with even more strawberries! I’ve eaten like 7 already. I’m in heaven.