A Camping We did Go

Jim and I went camping a couple of weeks ago with friends, James, Hanna, baby Abram and Zoe, the dog. Yay, fun!

The first night, the boys took up Fire Breathing 101. I watched nervously, wondering when Jim's asthma would flare up. Thankfully, it didn't and we soon had a fire.

The FireBreathers

Fishing was a main attraction and our camping caravan grew in number with George, Harry, Hal, Sal, Tiny, Splash, and Buckeye, to name a few. By the end of the weekend and after many a tasty meals, the number dwindled back to the original few.

James with his and Hanna's catches, George and Harry

The mosquitos decided that our camping trip looked like fun and joined us, univited. Unfortunately, they don't care whether they've been invited or not, the Pests. Poor Abram very patiently endured each bite. He soon looked as though he acquired the chicken pox.

Before The Great Mosquito Attack

Zoe, our faithful doggie companion and protector, who followed on our heels to the water enjoyed the lake immensely. She swam with the boats, jumped (scooted) off the dock to fetch a tennis ball, and effectively scared off all my imagined fears of strange wild animals and the like. We should get a dog.

Zoe Takes a Dip

All in all, we had a wonderful time. It's hard to imagine that The Four of Us have all endured several boundary waters/Algonquin wilderness trips and in our one weekend at a campsite I had my fill and I, for one, was ready for a bed and a roof and a stove. Oh, my...I'm spoiled.

One Fish, Two Fish, Three Fish, and a Toad

So, Jim took me fishing on Labor Day. It was my first "official" fishing trip and I had never caught a fish in my whole 25 years of life! I knew God promised to make us "fishers of men," if we follow Him, but I was pretty sure He didn't have to make me a good fisher-type-lady.

Jim showed off his manly fishing skills very successfully.

He made his first catch, who I eagerly and excitedly named "Virgil." I was very proud of Virgil, that he so bravely bit the line of deceit my hubby had cast only a moment before.

After Jim and Virgil, the 13" Large Mouth Bass took their picture together, things got pretty boring.

"I'm bored of this pole." I said, shaking out the cramp in my right hand.

"Let's trade," Jim offered. "This pole is lighter."

I gladly obliged myself to the "lighter" pole and began fishing away.

Not two minutes after we switched poles, Jim starts tugging away at his line as if he's got a bite.

"No way!" I whined. "That's MY pole!" (I was apparently already territorial about the fishing pole on which I learned to fish.)

"You can't catch a fish with my pole!" I continued, "That means it's my fish then!"

Jim smiled that understanding and adoring smile and continued the fight with "his" catch. He pulled in another, more fiesty Large Mouth Bass, about 9".

"Frank." I said decidedly. "We're calling this one 'Frank.' Doesn't he look like a 'Frank?' Look at his eyes, you can see it in his eyes, can't you!?"

We unhooked the unfortunate fish, who flopped around angrily, and tied him to the line with Virgil.

"Virgil, Frank; Frank, Virgil." I introduced, as if they had never crossed currents in the lake. "You two play nice, now." I turned to my contented husband, "Jim, we're trading poles again." I held out my hand and Jim graciously gave me "my" pole back.

At length, the boring factor of fishing began to set in and after several stretched out minutes of lots of casting and reeling, casting and reeling, pulling off icky weeds, casting and reeling, I felt a non-weedlike tug!

"Oooh, ooooh! I think it's a real fishie!" I exclaimed half nervous and half overjoyed.

My excitement overwhelmed me and somehow, the line got tangled at the top of my pole, which made the so-called "art" of Reeling In very, very difficult.

"Bring it in. Bring it in." Jim coached. He's a nice calm coach when I'm in the middle of a freak-out frenzy, which I was at that moment.

After a bit of a fight (with the pole, not my fish), out of the water came "my fish," another Large Mouth Bass measuring roughly 10", who I lovingly called "Eddie." He was fairly docile. I think he knew he was doomed from the start, poor guy. We took some pictures, for which Eddie posed very nicely (it was his lot in life, you know), and then we strung him up with the others. But he was privileged to have the longest line of temporary freedom so he could swim beneath MY side of the boat.

So Virgil, Frank, Eddie, Jim and I putted in our little boat back to shore. It was dark by then and our fishing journey was over for the night. But, on the contrary, our CATCHING journey was not!

As we were putting away the equipment, Jim sent me off to the car with a plastic grocery bag in my left hand, and Virgil, Frank and Eddie all strung in a row, in my right. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a hopping thing. It wasn't just any ordinary hopping thing, like a cute fluffy bunny or a lost kangaroo. It was a very huge (ok, I'm exaggerating) TOAD. He was about the size of my fist, maybe a hair smaller.

Since my cool brother-in-law Ben caught (actually, saved from the roaring lawnmower) and kept a teeny toad named Calvin who was later joined by a frog, sighted and named Hobbs by yours truly, I felt a peculiar urge to continue the trend. I prepared the plastic grocery bag in my left hand as a sort of glove (I was already fighting the heebie-jeebies of slimy fish and I didn't want a wart), and I slowly approached the large toad.

"Gotcha!" I cried. "I got him! I got him! I got him!" I yelled in the direction of the shed where Jim was dutifully putting things away.

Jim came running out as though I were in danger. Heaving and slurring his words together like he just ran a marathon, he asked "What'swrong?Whathappened?"

"Look!" I held up my suffocating toad who was writhing around in my plastic-clad hand.

I began to feel a bit like I was being cruel, because he kept writhing like he couldn't breath or something, so I put him in a big bucket. "Can we take him home?" I asked Jim.

"Sure," he said, "There's lots of food in our backyard."

"Will he stay? Do you think he has a home here and a family waiting for him?" I inquired like a child.

"He should stay in the yard." he answered my first question. "And toads are solitary creatures, he'll be fine if we transfer him."

I picked up my new toad, obviously less afraid of acquiring warts by this time. "Marshall," I called him for the first time by name, "you're coming home with me."

When we arrived home that night, we accomodated our guests accordingly. Marshall looked like he would enjoy the lush, rich, buggy-ness of our backyard as he very quickly, with a hop, skip and a jump, introduced himself to hiding, while Virgil, Frank and Eddie, enjoyed a more cozy welcome indoors (of the refridgerator, that is), and with one less layer of warmth upon them, for they were now little fillets. And, as we all know, fillets enjoy cooler, dryer climates as they are stored for their final destiny.

Virgil, Frank and Eddie joined us for dinner the next night. We all enjoyed fresh lemon juice, lots of pepper and lightly buttered rice as a side. I would like to think we'll enjoy the company of our three newfound friends, but chances are, we will not. We'll be fishing again this weekend, so we won't be lacking for company or for food.

Wiener Backhuhn oder Backhendl: Viennese Fried Chicken

Mmmm. Mmmm. This chicken is GOOD! We've used this standard Germany recipe about 6 times now and we love it. It's not exactly the most healthy preparation of chicken you've ever tried, but BOY is it yummy! We've tried it on some of our friends, and yes, they thought it a tasty treat as well.


INGREDIENTS
2 frying chickens, cut in serving pieces (I used boneless, skinless chicken breasts)
lemon juice
salt
flour
3 eggs, well beaten with a little water
breadcrumbs
lard or vegetable shortening for frying (I used veggie oil)
melted butter


INSTRUCTIONS
Chicken pieces may be skinned or left as they are. Flatten breast quarters so they will fry evenly. Sprinkle all pieces with lemon juice and let stand at room temperature 1 hour. Pat dry with paper towels. Sprinkle with a little salt and dredge well with flour. Dip into beaten egg until all sides are well coated. Dredge thoroughly with breadcrumbs. Let stand at room temperature with breading 20 minutes before frying them.

Heat lard, shortening or oil in large skillet. Melted fat should be about 2" deep. Saute turing once so that pieces become golden brown on both sides. Once chicken is brown, lower heat and fry 8 to 10 minutes on each side. Total frying time should be about 25 minutes. Arrange chicken in open baking pan. Pour a little melted butter over each piece and bake in 350 degree oven 10 to 15 minutes, or until breading is very dry and crusty.

ENJOY!

Honig Brät Mandeln: Honey Roasted Almonds

This is a super yummy treat! Jim discovered it while on the streets of Ingolstadt, Bavaria with Missionary Charlie Ellis, and I discovered it at Scheel's Sports at Jordan Creek in Des Moines. Imagine that. I found the recipe and tried it out at a Young Marrieds Fellowship. It was a hit! Everyone was "nuts" for it! So, try it out! I know you'll love it! It was Jim's idea to add the brown sugar...he said it made them taste more like they did when he was in Germany. He was right, the almonds were much tastier with the brown sugar.


INGREDIENTS
2 cups whole almonds, skin on ( I used 2 cans of Roasted, Salted Almonds - it was cheaper)
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 - 1/2 (depending on taste) brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt (If you use the already salted almonds, only use 1/4 tsp)
2 Tbsp. honey
2 Tbsp. water
2 tsp. almond or vegetable oil


INSTRUCTIONS
Spread the almonds in a single layer in a shallow ungreased baking pan and place in cold oven. Bake at 350º F, stirring occasionally, until the internal color of the nuts is tan to light brown, 12 to 15 minutes. (The nuts will continue roast a little more after they are removed from the oven.) Set the roasted almonds aside.

*Note: If you use the already roasted almonds, the above step can be skipped.

Thoroughly mix the sugar, salt and brown sugar.

Stir together the honey, water and oil in a medium-size saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Stir in the roasted almonds and continue to cook and stir until all of the liquid has been absorbed by the nuts, about 5 minutes.

Immediately transfer the almonds to a medium-size bowl into which some sugar mixture has been sprinkled. Sprinkle the remaining sugar mixture over the almonds and toss until they are evenly coated. Spread the almonds out on wax paper. When cool, store at room temperature in a tightly covered container or plastic bag for up to two weeks. Makes 2 cups.