Well, fall is upon us, and I for one am ready for things to get underway. For those of you who don't already know, I will not be returning to the little one-room schoolhouse on the prairie. I miss it already. I miss the kids, the routine, the wide open spaces, and all of my friends, but I am glad to be with my family.
If you teach, or know someone who does, please keep me in mind when you're looking for a substitute. That is how I will be earning my keep this year, along with the occasional theater job. I hope to be able to make enough to move into an apartment here in Missoula. Oh, and I just started graduate school at the U of M. That's right, I'm going to be one of those spinster librarians with the beaded glasses and a zillion cats, knitting the nights away in contended solitude...that's what my brother fears, anyway. We shall see...
My second niece is due in October, and Avalon is going to be in for a big surprise. She is talking more and more every day, not always in coherent words, but she definitely knows what she means! Dan took her to school with the kids she babysits, and Avalon didn't want to leave the classroom. I'm guessing she'll like school, once she's old enough.
I hope this finds you all healthy and energized for the fall season!
Samantha

Whew! It's been stinkin' forever since I posted anything on here! The sun is shining so brightly out today, and of course I'm inside sitting on my couch surrounded by knitting, my computer, and the tv remote. You can only walk up and down the road so many times, and other than that I have no reason to be out! So much to get accomplished inside...

For those of you who were wanting recipes, the cookbook is "Babycakes" and the author is Erin McKenna. I'm going to post one of her recipes on here now, so you can see for yourself how good it is! I love this cookbook.

Chocolate Chip Cookies - Makes 36 (smallish cookies)

1 C Coconut Oil
6 Tbl applesauce
1 tsp salt
2 Tbl vanilla extract
1 1/4 C evaporated cane juice (or 3/4 C agave nectar)
2 C Bob's Red Mill Gluten-Free All-Purpose Baking Flour
1/4 C flax meal
1 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp xanthan gum
1 C chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper (or oil them).

In a medium bowl, mix together the oil, applesauce, salt, vanilla, and evaporated cane juice. In another medium bowl, whisk together the flour, flax meal, baking soda, and xanthan gum. Using a rubber spatula, carefully add the ingredients to the wet mixture and stir until a grainy dough is formed. Gently fold in the chocolate chips just until they are evenly distributed throughout the dough.
Using a melon baller, scoop the dough onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing the portions 1 inch apart. Gently press each with the heel of your hand to help them spread. Bake the cookies on the center rack for 15 minutes, rotating the sheets 180 degrees after 9 minutes. The finished cookies will be crisp on the edges and soft in the center.
Let the cookies stand on the sheets for 10 minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack and cool completely before covering. Store the cookies in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days.

I've never had flax meal on hand, so I always substitute Hershey's Dark Cocoa. It makes for a nice double chocolate-chip cookie. I substitute butter for coconut oil because the oil is expensive and has more calories, but the coconut really adds to the cookie's flavor. Agave nectar and the flour should be available at most grocery stores. With my substitutions I calculated each cookie to come out around 100-110 calories apiece.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I have!

It has been a while since I've posted anything, as my friends have pointed out, so here is another excerpt from my book, "Fields of Christmas". This particular part refers to the time immediately following my switch from the first trailer to my stay in the camper. I'm trying to write some new material regarding this year, but I'm afraid I've been so busy I haven't gotten around to it! I will be moving back to Missoula this summer, and I can't wait to see all of you!


The weekend ahead was filled with things to do, but at least they would be at my own pace. A camper was being moved onto the school lot for me to stay in while the trailer search continued, and I was relieved to be leaving Elaine’s after a week of trying to avoid disrupting family time. They had all been wonderful to me, but there’s just something uncomfortable about living with a family you have nothing in common with. I would move my things down on Friday, spend that evening at Dave and Betty’s, and go to town with Rose, the pastor’s wife, and the only other single girl in the area, Isabelle.

When I arrived at Dave and Betty’s, I discovered that she had gone to town, about fifty miles away, to her job, but she’d left a lovely note in the guest room. The sprawling handwriting read, “Make yourself comfortable. We’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent with you so far, and you’re welcome for always! See ya, Betty.” I hadn’t felt so welcomed or at home since I’d moved out here, but that note wrapped me in a blanket of comfort. I knew that if I ever truly needed anything, these folks would take care of it. Thanks God, for providing for me so well. You know exactly what I need. This would not be the last time I prayed that prayer! I slept well that night, knowing I had nothing to want or to fear.

Rose, Izzy, and I met early the next day for our trip into town. We had several supplies to get, and I hadn’t had a chance to hang out with either of the girls, so I was really looking forward to our time together. We, of course, chatted away the ninety miles it took to get to Spearfish, SD, where the closest Wal-Mart stood. Armed with our shopping lists, we piled our carts high with necessities and “what if” items. You never knew when you’ d be caught without an ingredient for that chicken casserole, or when the weather might turn foul and you couldn’t get back to town.

We continued our conversation throughout the ninety miles back. I learned that Dave and Betty had four children, all boys, but only one was living at home. The neighbors down the creek had two boys, one that was still home and one away at school. The pianist I’d seen on Sunday was the mother of three boys, two of which were twins, and her oldest was living on the ranch and married. Another couple in the church, Ted and Cindy, I’d met on Sunday, and they apparently were the only couple who produced girls, all three of them, none of which married any of the local boys. Izzy herself had a younger brother, and she and her family were hired hands on one of the ranches down the road. She loved photography and wanted to take and edit her photos for a living. “Why go to school if you’re already good at what you love?” We got along famously, laughing and joking and chatting away like sisters. Rose, being the mother of two boys herself with another on the way, was worn out from our day of shopping, but contributed her own background. It seems that she and Todd had been pastors out here for the last eight years. She’d married Todd at the age of nineteen, and they’d accepted the pastorship right out of school. He’d be turning thirty this year and they were just now beginning to feel like part of the community. Stories of ambulance rides, snake killings, and long spring storms ensued, and I ate up every word. I didn’t know when I might need her experience to help me out in my own.

After dropping the girls off at their respective homes, I tried to settle into mine. The camper was small, true, but it was bigger than the bedroom I’d been living in. I spread my things out as best I could and wrestled with the gas stove. The pilot kept going out, and for fear of blowing myself up, I let it stay out. The microwave seemed to work, so I popped in some butter and plugged in my popcorn popper. The lights immediately went out. “Ugh, “ I moaned. “I don’t want to go into that old, smoke filled trailer to switch the breaker.” I left everything where it was on the counter and went to bed hungry. Lying awake in the dark, I felt the camper begin to shake. What the…? A rumbling was growing louder and louder and I had a vision of planes dropping hunters into the fields all around me. As soon as the jet passed over me I could hear another one on its way. This continued for hours. I learned later that the military had a base in the area and our fields were right inside their flight training perimeter.

Getting ready for school the next morning was an ordeal. The shower was tiny, which wasn’t a huge problem until I turned on the water. I have never smelled a more putrid, overpowering stench. The water, unpurified or softened, consisted of alkili and sulfur. In order to shower I had to hold my breath and stick my head out of the curtain every minute or so to keep from retching. I suppose you eventually get used to the smell, but what’s the point of showering if you’re going to smell like rotten eggs?! After taking what was probably the shortest shower of my life, I proceeded into the bathroom where I struggled to fix my wet hair and put on makeup without any light (the braker still being shot). Breakfast was a simple affair of nothing, and it was a relief to be on my way to a schoolhouse that smelled like sweetgrass and fresh paint. I definitely had some work to do in the housing department, but it would have to wait.

My dad had given me a book by Ivan Doig entitled “Whistling Season”. It was about a one-room schoolhouse in the 1800’s somewhere in Montana, and he’d thought it would be a good read since I was doing the same thing. I made sure not to read it until I felt like I had something of my own thing going in the classroom. I was sure that if I read the book beforehand, I’d try to pattern myself after someone else and mess up entirely. Once I began reading, I realized that I did indeed wish I was more like that teacher, but that the days of true knowledge, understanding, and learning had passed, and anyone could get the information they needed off of the internet.

The school had purchased us high speed internet via satellite, for which I was truly grateful. My main contact with the outside world had been cut off until the satellite was installed, and it was great to be able to talk to family and friends again without the phone cutting in and out. I had brought computers down from the state’s computer recycling program, so each student had their own computer, and each computer had an internet connection.

I think of Jill and I think of light. Maybe it's the blondish hair that does it, or the time we spent sitting on the Deep Creek porch, sharing intimate details of our lives in the midsummer sun. Perhaps it's Hawaii, and the thought of her walking across the Kona base holding my letter in her hands, waiting to see what wisdom she would send my way. Or the time when I sat with her in church, confused and broken in my walk with God. It was then that she shared the words, "You know, sometimes even a soldier needs to rest." She shared hundreds of other things with me over the course of our "sistership", but for some reason that stuck like glue to my brain. Jill, it is finally your turn to rest, and I am so glad that I will, someday, be able to hug my sister once again and dance for joy with you in the radiant light of eternity, that light that you so graciously shared with us while you were here.

I love you, Big Sis.