I forgot to mention one of my favorite cookbooks yesterday! “The Pioneer Woman Cooks” by Ree Drummond is filled with mouthwatering recipes that can feed a crowd or easily be halved. I highly recommend the Fig and Prosciutto Pizza. I love the step-by-step photographs and stories.
I enjoy being a modern pioneer woman. We hoped and prayed for this little homestead to somehow make itself known and available. This sunny, quaint homestead is peaceful surrounded by miles and miles of birdsong and prairie. My heart rests easy here. However, if you have been following me for awhile you know we had some tearful, freezing moments this last winter. It was cold. Much more so than I can fully express. I was upset that I believed the small wood cook stove in the kitchen would heat the whole house. I am most upset that my animals seemed to fare poorly from it. It seemed to age my older cat, Ichabod and Bumble the Greyhound. It broke my heart to see them so cold. Even “Little House on the Prairie” had a proper wood stove!
The new wood stove was fired up last night to test it and Ichabod found the warmest spot possible.
The final bill made me gasp and tear up, actually. I thought that I could pay the lease through with tuitions so I wouldn’t have to worry so much this summer. (No more worrying!) But it all went to pay for warmth. Which will be worth every penny. And I thankful I had the money for it. I love the funky style of the stove. I look forward to (though I am not rushing!) cooking on my new stove and being blissfully warm while the snow tumbles down.
I so enjoy this lifestyle. I love my long skirts and aprons. I love my clothes line. I think I will get out the clothes handwasher for summer. I love kneading bread and hearing the tops of the jars pop closed of preserved garden fare. I love the sight of a rotund lamb running and jumping, the sound of milk hitting the pail, the rooster crowing. I love growing and cooking fresh food and sitting on the porch with a glass of wine listening to the frogs in the pond. I love waking up at dawn and going to bed at dark, no alarms. No outside work. No schedules. Just the bustling of a busy homestead and the sound of a crackling fire.