My Journey Through Debt: Part 9A: Food From the Garden

Throughout my childhood, my family did not have two thin dimes to rub together.  We went for long stretches without electricity. The telephone was a luxury we could not afford. New anything was completely out of the question. However, we ate like kings and queens.

My sweet mama made sure we never went hungry. Ever. By the time she would pay the bills that she could from her meager paycheck, she would have $6.00 left to stretch through two weeks of food. Obviously a family of four was not going to make it on $3.00 a week for all the food that we consumed. Enter, the garden.

My sweet mama’s garden was more than just a tiny plot of land dedicated to a salsa garden or salad garden. My mama’s garden was meant to feed our family of four year round. You name it; we grew it.

Whatever we grew, we canned. Freezing our food was a bad option back then since our electricity was shut off so often. Instead, mama canned everything she could think of. Hundreds of canning jars lined our pantry. I honestly felt sorry for my friends that were not able to “shop” out of their pantry full of home canned goods.

That desire to have a garden and preserve food has been passed down to me. Not only is it cheaper to grow and preserve your own food, it is much healthier. When you grow your own food, there are no preservatives in them to make them shelf stable for years upon years. Those chemicals do not enter your body, leaving you a healthier individual.

The garden we had growing up was huge. It was my job to hoe it, water it, and harvest it. I hated that garden at the time, but I loved the food that we ate from it  all year long.

JP and I now have a much smaller garden, but we still grow a lot of our own food. As a part time agronomist, I work daily, 8-18 hours a day all summer long, yet still come home and tend the garden. No one can tell me that they do not have time for a garden. We all make choices in our lives. My choice is to have a garden so that we are able to save money and live a healthier lifestyle.

I preserve a lot of what is grown in our garden. Besides canning, I also freeze and dehydrate food in order to make it last longer. More on the “how-to” in later posts.

The money that I saved by growing my own food was put towards the principle of my debt. As I have said in earlier posts, every little bit helps.

For those of you that live in apartments or rentals and have no land that you are able to till into a garden, may I suggest you consider doing container gardening. While you will not be able to have a large harvest, you still would be able to have fresh, organic vegetables at a fraction of the store price.

As I battled the debt pit that I was seemingly drowning in, every little bit of momentum up and out of it was a Godsend.

Is it easy to keep up with a garden and preserves the fruits of your labor after a full day’s work? No. Is it worth it? Only you can be the judge of that. It truly depends on how much you want out of debt, or how healthy you want the food your family consumes, to be.

To me, it was definitely worth the time and effort to keep a garden. Remember, you are not in this alone. If you have a family, get them involved. Or ask your friends to help you. The garden can be a place of laughter, joy and fun. A place of family. A place of healing.

As Alfred Austin said, “Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.”

Have a wonderful day, lovelies!

~Annie

Annie’s Melt-In-Your-Mouth Steaks

Steak. Just the name sets JP’s mouth to watering. A well-prepared steak is one of his favorite foods.

Over the years, I have perfected my steak recipe. JP has been a patient guinea pig, always encouraging me, never getting angry, when I seemingly ruin a perfectly good cut of beef.

Everyone has their own way of preparing steaks. I do realize this. However, after many Food Science courses at Purdue, in addition to my sweet mama’s years of experience and advice, I have finally perfected a tried and true first-bite-makes-them-close-their-eyes-and smile-with-delight recipe. Today I am going to share it with you. Don’t tell my mama that I keep giving away the family recipes, though. Okay? It will be our little secret.

Annie’s Melt-In-Your-Mouth Steaks

• Select your steak. Everyone seems to have his or her favorite cuts of steak. Everyone also has a different budget allotment for food. Often, as is the case in our household, steaks are a special treat. I enjoy a good rib eye or T-bone steak myself. JP loves a porterhouse or sirloin steak. Whatever your preference, this recipe is guaranteed to make your steak tender, juicy, and delectable.
• Place steak on plate. It doesn’t matter if you are taking it from your freezer, fridge, or grocery.
• Cover steak with white vinegar. I have a shaker bottle that does the job nicely. Do NOT skimp on the vinegar. The vinegar will break down the amino acids in the meat, resulting in the melt-in-your-mouth meat you are craving. I do realize that some of you that are reading this believe that you must beat the tar out of a steak in order to tenderize it. That is simply NOT true. Each time you hit the meat to “tenderize” it, you are bursting the cells that are found in the meat. Those cells hold the flavor of the meat. When you burst them, you lose flavor. The more you hit a steak to “tenderize” it, the less flavorful it becomes. There is zero need to beat the steak when using vinegar. The vinegar does not burst the flavor cells. Ever. It simply softens the muscle fibers, leaving you with little bites of Heaven. The less you handle the steak, the better it will be.
• Shake the following spices on steak: garlic powder, onion powder, dehydrated onions, Montreal steak seasoning (optional), kosher salt, and black pepper.
• Place plate on counter top where it is able to sit in peace until it has been brought up to room temperature. I typically take my steaks out of the freezer in the morning and let them marinate in the vinegar mixture all day.
• Start grill, making sure it is on its lowest setting.
• Gently place steaks on grill.
• Close lid and walk away. I realize that it is in all of us grillers to hover, checking the progression every few minutes. Don’t. Remember, the less handling of the steak, the better. Also, every time you open the grill’s lid, it causes a dramatic temperature shift, which is not at all good for the meat.
• Wait 5-10 minutes, depending on how you want your steak (5-medium rare, 7-medium, 10-medium well,) then flip steak once, using tongs.
• Wait the same amount of time again, giving the other side of the steak time to cook.
• Test steak by gently pressing down in middle with tongs. Do NOT cut into steak. When a steak is cut while on the grill, the delicious juices run out, leaving your steak dry and flavorless. Medium rare- tongs easily press into steak. Medium- meat gives some resistance when tongs are gently pressed into steak. Medium well- tongs barely press into steak.
• Remove steak from grill. Place on clean plate.
• Walk away. Let your scrumptious steak rest for 5 minutes. By allowing the meat time to rest, it is able to evenly distribute its juices, making for a juicy bite of steak every time.
• Serve with tongs. Do not spear the steak. Once again, you will lose those hard earned juices.
• Enjoy your yummyliscious steak!

This method of steak preparation has served me well over the past several years.

Remember, meat must be cooked slowly over a low heat in order to get the best from it. When I serve steak, no one ever asks for the steak sauce. It doesn’t need it. The flavor of the beef comes shining through and tastes delicious.

Enjoy your day, my friends, and, as Democritus, said, “Happiness resides not in possessions and not in gold; the feeling of happiness dwells in the soul.”

~Annie

The Infamous "Annie and the Skunk" Saga

The following incident truly did happen to me....eight years, and a lifetime, ago. It is one of my absolute favorite funny memories. Of course at the time it was not funny at all. Now it is pure hilarity in every form. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

February, 2005

OK, so there I was, being the good daughter, cleaning mom's house. As I took my leave, I was feeling pretty good about life.... mom’s house was clean…the dentist appointment went well…I would be home in time for Jeopardy...life was good!

I pulled out of my parking spot and started around the drive that I had used EVERY TIME that I had gone to mom's house for TWELVE years. I drove about ten feet and realized...uh oh... I AM STUCK!!!!! OK, no worries, I would just get mom and she would operate the van while I pushed.

I got mom, told her to gently accelerate in reverse. Now folks, I know my mom. Why I even asked for her help is beyond me. I love my sweet mama, but she is not the go-to person for anything mechanical. This includes getting a van unstuck. 

She got in and FLOORED it! I mean, mud everywhere. I pushed and I was making headway. I was feeling strong, I was feeling muscular, I was feeling mud up and down my entire body! We are not talking about a little mud either; I mean my pants were covered, my shoes were goners, my shirt was weeping.

My mom got out of the van and started laughing so hard she had to cross her legs and hobble inside to use the restroom. She called Bob. God bless Bob. He came to my rescue, pulling my van out of the mud, under the watchful eye of my mom.  I was finally on my way home.

Since my clothes were thoroughly covered in mud, my mom gave me some of her clothes to wear home. Y’all, I am 5’9” and my sweet mama is 4’11”. I have absolutely nothing against short people. However, I threw on a pair of her sweat pants and a sweatshirt, and looked like I was on my way to a flood. The sleeves of the sweatshirt went up to my elbow. The bottom hem of the pants went halfway up my shins.  No joke. I didn’t even worry about shoes. There was no way I would fit into any of her shoes. I just borrowed a pair of her old socks and went shoeless. In the middle of winter.

Sticking with the theme of the evening, my gas tank was on empty, so I had to go to the gasoline store looking like the creature from the mud lagoon. There was mud on my face and in my hair also. I was putting $30 in my tank, praying no one would show up at the gasoline store before I could make my exit. I got  to $28 before another car arrived on-scene. I talked myself into remaining calm because, “Hey! It’s Wheatfield, we are all hillbillies, right? I will fit right in!” Of course the fashion police arrived in the form of teenagers from the local high school. They took one look at me and thought, “Honey, go home and think about what you went out in.”

I survived the gasoline store, and started on home. Mom has pretreated my pants with some ammonia-based mixture, and placed them in a brown paper bag. The fumes were slowly killing me. I rolled down all of the windows to get some fresh air. As I did, BAM!!!! I hit a skunk! I mean come on folks! The night had to get better, right? Nope. It didn’t.

The skunk's final act before departing this world was to accurately spray into my van, through all of the open windows. Now I was driving home, windows down, crying and throwing up because of the smell. I was muddy, cold, and smelly.

I finally got home and the first thing JP wanted to know was why I did not go to a car wash. I thought he was joking. He was not. I started crying harder. I got the frozen hose out to spray off the van, and he said I need a pressure washer. Duh. I knew that. I just did not have it in me to drive all the way back into town.

JP told me to go inside and take a shower (I really was that smelly), However, I did not want to get my entire house smelly. My solution to this dilemma was to go downstairs and undress, placing the offending clothes right into the washing machine.  After I did this,  I then remembered something...I had to run through the unheated entryway in the middle of winter with no clothes on!

I was smelly, muddy and freezing, all the while sobbing. JP just stood there, continually asking me why I was crying. Now, I love my husband, but this was too much. Guys, if your wife is muddy, smells like a skunk and is standing naked in the freezing cold entryway, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!

I hopped in the shower, also taking a bath for good measure, and went to bed, thinking that I would do better in the morning. No such luck.

 The next morning, I emptied an entire bottle of Febreeze on the van’s upholstery, saving a few squirts, and dro,ve 25 miles to work at 6:15 a.m. with the windows down, in the middle of February. I got to work, sprayed MYSELF with Febreeze for good measure, and went into the school. I hunted down the janitor (who was the only other person at school at that time of the morning), told him my story, and make him tell me if I smell. After splitting his sides from laughter, he said, "No, you smell just fine."

 I left the windows of my van down for obvious reasons. All throughout the day I had concerned staff members tell me that my windows are down. At lunchtime, I finally I went out and rolled them up.

We sold that van a few years later. The skunk smell never did totally go away.

“A sense of humor... is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.” ~Hugh Sidey.

~Annie

My Journey Through Debt: Part 8B: Contentedness With Who I Am

Once I realized that I was spending money I didn’t have, on people I didn’t like, for things I didn’t need or want to do, I knew I had turned a corner.

It had taken me almost 30 years to realize that I did not need to please everyone in the world. That I did not have to have everyone like me. That there was absolutely no way that I could gain the approval of every person I knew.

I finally realized that the only approval I needed was God’s. It was a very humbling and hurtful time in my life. I was hurt that so many people had used me, and that I had allowed it to happen. I was also humbled by God’s grace for me.

I slowly formed a new outlook on life. My true friends stuck with me, even though all of the meals out, concerts, and extra activities were replaced by nights at home playing games, watching movies, and eating home cooked meals.

I found that these true friends wanted to be around me for me, not for what I could give them. This discovery helped me tremendously in the coming months and years.

Knowing that my friend set (and believe me, it was a much smaller set than I had had during my freefall spending days,) wanted me for me was mind blowing. These people were in my life and wanted absolutely nothing in return. I believe that it was God’s way of showing me His love as I slowly climbed out of the debt pit.

It was at this time that I started making better choices for what little money I had. Since I now knew that my remaining friends did not expect huge, luxurious gifts, I was able to give them smaller, yet meaningful gifts on their special days with the confidence that they would be appreciated.

I was also able to invite friends and family over for a meal that I made myself, at a fraction of the cost that it would been to go out to eat. I rediscovered old games from the basement that I hadn’t used for years. I also found that I truly enjoyed watching movies from the vast movie collection that I had built up over years and years of garage sales.

The bonds between our family and our friends strengthened as we spent more time face to face. My relationship with God strengthened as I spent more time with Him in prayer and in His Word.

As I said in yesterday’s post, contentedness, to me, is coming to a state of peaceful satisfaction. After fighting against my own self for so long, I finally gave my battle to God. He took it from me, and in return, a sense of peace washed over me.

Eventually, along with that peace came the satisfaction that I had so desperately sought for oh so long. The satisfaction came when I started walking fully in God’s Will.

Was my journey over? No. Not by a long shot. However, I now had my support system in place to help me on my journey. Make no mistake about it; the journey that you are on is not one to walk alone.

A support system of friends and family are extremely helpful during the times that you may wish to give up your climb out of your debt pit. They are there to encourage you, to cheer you on, to march forward with you, shoulder to shoulder.

I have come full circle in the realization and contentedness with who I am. Today, I will leave you with a story that I hold very dear to my heart and read over and over during this time of my life. Credit to Abundant Life Church for excerpts.

I love MAX LUCADO’s story in which he describes a fictional village inhabited by wooden people called Wemmicks. If you’ve read it then you know that Wemmicks are the creation of a wood carver named Eli who lives in a house above their village. All day long the Wemmicks engage in one activity. They give each other STICKERS. If a Wemmick is pretty or talented he or she receives yellow STAR stickers. But if a Wemmick is not pretty or talented, then all day long there are given gray dot stickers.

The hero of the story is a Wemmick named Punchinello. He had no star stickers and was covered with so many gray dot stickers that he rarely went outside and when he did he hung around with other Wemmicks who were covered with dots. He felt better in comparison to them.

One day he met a Wemmick named Lucia who had no stickers at all on her wooden body and when Punchinello asked her how this was possible, she directed him to visit his creator, the woodcarver, Eli. Let me read to you what happens when Punchinello takes Lucia’s advice and goes to Eli’s workshop:

Eli scooped him up into his arms and said, "Looks like you’ve been given some bad marks."

"I didn’t mean to, Eli.  I tried really hard" said Punchinello.

"Oh, you don’t have to defend yourself to me, child. I don’t care what the other Wemmicks think."

"You don’t?"

"No, and you shouldn’t either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They’re Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn’t matter, Punchinello.

All that matters is what I think.  And I think you are pretty special."

Punchinello laughed, "Me, special?  Why, I can’t walk fast.  I can’t jump.  My paint is peeling.  Why do I matter to you?"

Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those small wooden shoulders, and spoke very slowly. "Because you’re mine. That’s why you matter to me."

Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this-much less his maker. He didn’t know what to say. "Every day I’ve been hoping you’d come," Eli explained.

"I came because I met someone who had no marks," said Punchinello.

"I know.  She told me about you."

"Why don’t the stickers stay on her?"

The maker spoke softly.  "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. 

You see, the stickers only stick if you let them. The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love, the less you care about their stickers."

Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and sat him on the ground and as he did, he said, "You are special because I made you. And I don’t make mistakes."

As Punchinello walked home he thought, "I think he really means it." And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.

You are special. ALL OF YOU! All of us are PRECIOUS in God’s sight. And there is a great freeing power in that knowledge. When we know how priceless we are to God, stickers don’t stick and the cell doors in our lives swing open.
~Annie

My Journey Through Debt: Part 8A: Contentedness With Who I Am

Probably the biggest step for me to take in my debt journey, after Realization, was learning contentedness.

 The definition of “content” is, “In a state of peaceful happiness. (Adj.)” and  “A state of satisfaction. (Noun)” I derived from this that in order to be content, I had to come to a state of peaceful satisfaction.

My frame of mind was far from peaceful or satisfied. I was in constant worry. Worry about the accumulating bills. Worry about the mail (and consequently the credit card bills) arriving at the house before I got home. Worry about JP finding me out.  I was also completely dissatisfied. Dissatisfied with how I looked. Dissatisfied with my clothing. Dissatisfied with my possessions. Dissatisfied with my life.

I tried to satiate myself by buying more stuff. I would get a little bit of happiness from the purchase, but then reality would set in, coming along hand-in-hand with worry about the money I had just spent. This would lead to dissatisfaction. Which would lead to me purchasing more stuff.

The cycle was never-ending, repeating itself over and over, until I was found out. Once I no longer was able to remain in the crazy cycle, I found a relief. Do not get me wrong. I was not happy, nor was I joyous. However, there was an inkling of peace.

The peace came from knowing that I had a plan. I would, eventually, be able to crawl out from under the mountains of debt.

As time marched on, the peace inside of me grew. It grew into satisfaction. I came to understand that material possessions or people couldn’t give me happiness or joy. In order to find absolute contentment, I had to look inward.

For most of my life I had been a people pleaser. Sadly, a great majority of my debt came from trying to please others…through gifts…through purchases…through me spending money on people that I wanted so desperately to impress. Once I figured out that those people were just using me, I was able to curtail most of my spending.

I was spending money I didn’t have, on people I didn’t like, in order to impress them with things I didn’t need. All along, God was whispering to me that I didn’t need to spend that money. That those that wanted to be my friend would love me and want to be around me, even if I had no money, that my true self worth was not to be found in stuff.  And you know what? He was right y’all.

Once I found my true self worth in Christ, I became much more confident in telling people “no.”  I no longer felt the need for their acceptance. I no longer cared what they said or thought about me. I was completely satisfied in being me.

As is usually the case, once the money well dried up, the users moved along, leaving me with mountains of debt. I hold no animosity towards them. All I feel is sympathy and pity, for they, themselves, are not content with their own lives.

As I regained the peaceful satisfaction of life, I was able to focus on those things that truly meant something to me. More on that in a later post.

As you walk this journey through debt with me, do not feel disheartened. I am sharing my journey with you in hopes that it will help others come to their own realizations. That the debt cycle will be fought and conquered. Many of you write to me, sharing your own debt stories. As I have said, we are all in this together. One day we will all be able to stand up and be free of the weight, the shame, and the worry that debt brings upon us. You can do it. I know you can.

As Thomas Jefferson said, “Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude.”

~Annie

Annie’s Natural Upholstery Freshener

As spring-cleaning time approaches, I will be sharing little tips for your cleaning pleasure. I love to organize. LOVE it. Cleaning? Not so much. However, I do realize it is necessary, and try to make the best of it while I clean away.

To freshen up the upholstery on furniture that has started to have an odor from daily use, pets, too many gym socks, etc., here is a tried and true, inexpensive idea.

Annie’s Natural Upholstery Freshener

• Obtain a 32 ounce spray bottle.
• Pour 8 ounces (1 cup) of white vinegar into bottle.
• Pour 24 ounces (3 cups) of water into bottle.
• Shake well.
• Test spray on hidden section of upholstery to ensure that it will not ruin the fabric. (I have never once had this mixture ruin anything, but you can never be too careful.)
• Spray entire piece of furniture with mixture, paying special attention to highly used areas. The piece of furniture will be damp.
• Allow upholstery to dry before using. I have found that a fan will help in the drying process.
• This spray may be used on carpets as well.
• While the white vinegar does have an odor while wet, once it dries, it will have no odor and will have taken away most, if not all, of the odor in the treated upholstery or carpet.
• If necessary, repeat steps until odor is gone.

A wonderful friend once gave us a much-needed sofa bed that had been left in their new home when they moved in. The former owner of the house had smoked around the couch for years. When I first got the couch to our house, I set it outside and doused it with Febreeze and other products like it. All it did was mask the odor for awhile.

My mom, who is my go-to person for all things natural, suggested the above vinegar-based spray. While it did take three applications, the smoke smell did come out of the upholstery. We were able to freshen up the sofa bed for hardly any money, and we were able to do so without using harsh chemicals.

I now use this mixture whenever I have upholstery or carpet that needs to be freshened up a bit. It is quick, easy, and inexpensive. If only all spring-cleaning projects were as easy as this one….

Enjoy your day, lovelies. And remember, as Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine.”

~Annie

Choosing Joy Through The Tears

Before having Little Bug, JP and I tried to have a baby for ten years. Ten. A decade. An entire decade of hoping and praying for a baby. Before Little Bug came into our lives, JP and I were pregnant twice. Both times, both babies went to the arms of Jesus before they were born.

We named both babies. We had memorial markers made for both babies. Those markers now reside in one of my favorite parts of our homestead: my flower garden.

Those markers were the single most healing gesture that could have ever occurred for my heart. JP decided to have one made after we lost our first baby.  He had her name, dates, a scripture, and a phrase engraved on her stone. Sadly, another stone for her brother joined hers, just 15 short months later.

We have never made it a secret that we lost our first two children. The hardest part of dealing with it publicly was Mother’s Day. I tried to avoid most places on Mother’s day. Church was especially rough, because the church we attended at the time would ask the mothers to stand. While it seems as a lovely way to recognize mothers, it left me in agony. Do I stand and get the odd looks from everyone, since I obviously have no child in my arms? Or do I remain seated and quietly deny the life, albeit short, of my baby? After the first year, I just stayed home.

When Little Bug was born into our family, JP and I agreed that she would know all about her brother and sister that were now in Heaven. Little Bug visits the markers as much as I do. Not in a somber, solemn way, but in a happy-go-lucky, little girl way. She always announces so proudly that she has a brother and sister, but that they are in Heaven.

 While I used to cringe at her proclamation, I now smile with joy that my daughter will never allow her brother and sister to be forgotten. The idea that the lives of our first two children would be forgotten was one of my biggest fears. I have no pictures. No clothes. No mementos of any sort. Just my memories.

Even the horrid memories of my times in the hospital are cherished, for they are part of my babies’ stories. When I lost my babies, every little memory associated with them became precious to me, locked away forever in my mind, to be replayed over and over.

I now am able to look back at those times with smiles. JP and I are able to talk very openly as to what life would have been like for us with an eight year old, a seven year old, and a six year old. We are able to laugh and joke about how I would be bald from pulling out all of my hair. We are able to choose joy through our pain.

Every once in awhile, ignorant people will make extremely rude comments to Little Bug or to me about her being an only child. As if we planned it that way. As if we wanted it that way. As if we wouldn’t give anything, including our own lives, to have it any other way.

Jeremiah 1:4-5 says, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.” God knew my sweet babies before I did. He now has them with Him. I cling to His sweet promises that I will see them in Heaven. Because of these promises I am able to truly say, as this song says, without ANY hesitation, God is good. All the time!

Today, as we celebrate our baby boy’s birthday in Heaven, we choose to live our life to the fullest. Yes there have been, and will be tears. Yes there will be memories that chase away the smiles. However, because we have not made our loss a secret, there will also be family and friends to support us. To encourage us. To pray for us. To help remind us why it is we CHOOSE JOY though the tears.