Some of my readers had questions on last week's Tip of the Day about my monthly shopping trips. A few of those dealt with menu planning. I decided it would be a great topic to discuss for this post. After this discussion, I have included some links that may be helpful. They offer weekly and monthly planning calendars, some with grocery lists attached.
When I began grocery shopping once a month, I would plan out monthly menus and from those menus, I would make my shopping list. This is quite time consuming, but I felt that in order to buy enough food to last a month, it was something that I needed to do. It also took care of the hardest part of dinner: figuring out what to fix.
I began with a blank calendar with big enough squares to write my dinner menu for the day. I started with tried-and-true dinners and put them in random places on the calendar. I tried to have my kid's favorites, or at least familiar meals, three to four times a week. Then I added some menu items that I had in my recipe book that I had forgotten about, and the majority of the family liked. Finally, I filled in the remaining four to five squares with new recipes that I wanted to try. I basically repeated this menu the following month, changing items around to fit new schedules and tastes.
I subscribe to Simple & Delicious http://www.tasteofhome.com/simple magazine and always find at least one meal idea to try from each magazine. This is where I usually find extra meals to replace those that the kids don't like, also.
Now that I have been doing this for sometime, I have a master grocery list that I use every month, made from my usual monthly meals. I read over this printed list just before I go shopping. Sometimes, I have enough of an item left that I don't need to get it and I cross it off my list. Other times, I realize that I did not have enough of an item to get me through the whole month and add more. Finally, I add any new items I may need for a new recipe I'm trying or to cover any holiday meals or special occasions that month.
Because I go crazy during case lot sales, I usually have a surplus of canned and baking goods. This really saves me money because I don't have to buy something if I can't find it on sale. I also buy meat in bulk and put it in the freezer. At meat processing plants, you can buy a beef, (or half or quarter of a beef), a lamb, and pork in different cuts. This allows you to be flexible on rush-days by having numerous ideas on hand for your dinner menu.
Finally, don't forget the ease and popularity of breakfast foods for dinner. If I have been gone all day and don't have much time, pancakes and eggs are always a great choice. My whole family loves this meal and I love the convenience.
I try to make dinner a good experience for my family. We always sit down together at the table and I feel like we learn so much about each other by doing this. Every once in a while, (about every other month,) I like to do something out of the ordinary. Whether it's tin foil dinners cooked in the oven, a weinie-roast outside, or having the kids design their own pizzas, it adds a little flare to dinners.
About twice a year, when peaches are in season, and again when apples are ready to pick, I make pies for dinner. The kids think I'm the coolest Mom ever to let them have dessert for their meal and I like that they're eating their daily dose of fruit, (even if it is covered in cinnamon and sugar!) Be sure to add some fun to your menu planning!
For the ultimate meal-planning website, check out http://simplemom.net/how-to-menu-plan/. This site tells all of the why's and how's of meal planning and shares some new ideas about it also.
To print blank calendars, menus, and shopping lists, go to http://organizedhome.com/printable.
There is a great weekly menu planning list with a grocery list attached at http://www.TheHomeSchoolMom.com/pdf/MenuPln.pdf.
A SIDE NOTE: When asked by 'suzeeduzee' about what my family's favorite foods are and how I deal with picky eaters, this was my reply:
Some of my family's top menu choices are 1)self-made pizzas- I make the crust and they do the rest, 2)fried chicken- legs only!, 3)spaghetti- some like sauce, others like butter and salt, 4)Hawaiian haystacks- because you can put on only the ingredients you like, 5)tacos- once again, kids can choose their own ingredients ,and 6)taco soup- kids love dipping the chips, (had to mention this last one because it's so easy for me!)
If, or should I say when, the kids don't like something, I make them eat at least a spoonful amount, or one thing, like one asparagus, or whatever. The kids can then make themselves a jam or ham sandwich if they just can't handle what we're having. (In the case of my pickiest eater, it's ham and jam together on the sandwich. And he won't eat potatoes and gravy. Crazy, huh?)
If you'd like a sample of my whole month's menu, let me know. I could also give you a sample of my master shopping list if you would like that, also.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Down on the Farm: Feather Pillows
I don't know if it's because of the "eggs"cellent jokes and comments I received on my chicken-raising "eggs"perience, (they really "cracked" me up), or what, but I just can't get the those feathered friends out of my mind. Once again, I will broach the subject of chickens, although this blog takes a different route.
I think everybody will agree with me when I say, "I have a favorite pillow!" I found mine when I was in junior high school. It actually belonged to my Mom and was a true feather pillow. It would shape to my head every night and hold that shape perfectly throughout. It was so comfortable and cuddly. It was as if it gently cradled my head and lulled me to sleep every night, (or was that the late night studying that put me to sleep?) Ahhh, the memories.
After I graduated from high school and was packing up to go to BYU, my comfortable, old friend, that feather pillow, was one of the first things in my pile to go with me. Night after night, no matter what happened during the day, there was my pillow waiting for me.
And then it happened.
I was probably half way through my freshman year when the tragedy occurred. One night, after a grueling day of study, I snuggled down into my campus-appointed bed, hugged by my most favorite-of-all-times pillow. As I was sinking down into it, I felt a stick under my head. Now although my Dad may have thought I was a princess, I had never had a true "Princess and the Pea"experience. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Princess_and_the_Pea But, that was what was happening here. I thought of that story as I lay there, trying to think how a stick could have got into my pillow. I reached up, tentatively, and felt the piece of wood that was so irritating. As I ran my hand along to the end, I froze! To my horror, I felt a foot, a chicken's foot! They must have thrown the whole chicken in there, legs and all!
Sometimes, especially at night, you just can't deal with something like a claw in your pillow. I re-fluffed the pile of feathers, and although the Edgar Allen Poe story, "The Telltale Heart," http://www.poestories.com/read/telltaleheart beat in my head, I fell asleep to the rhythm.
Many nights I layed down, trying to ignore what I knew to be under my head. It couldn't be true. I had slept on this pillow every night for six years, or more. Why had I never discovered this THING?
One night, upon pulling back the covers, I could take it no more. I threw that pillow quickly to the floor. I would deal with the fiendish appendage in the light of day.
After I awoke, there was much to do. Studies to be read, tests to be taken, the everyday duties that come with living with five roommates; the list goes on and on. The forbidding task awaiting me at my bedside was too much. Maybe on the weekend I would get around to it. I pushed the pillow underneath my bed carefully with my foot.
That chicken foot lay under my bed for months. One morning, I awoke feeling invincible. Today was the day I was going to be free. Today was the day I would find "the claw" and take care of it. It would haunt my nights no more. I bravely pulled the pillow out from under the bed and felt around. I quickly found the offending "stick" and ran my fingers along it. I felt the knee joint, (or whatever that is called in a chicken), the scales along the leg, the foot that had shrivelled up into a claw, as if grasping onto something, probably life itself. I could not understand how I had missed this large appendage all of those years. But here it was, not in my mind, but sitting in my hands, as true as life.
I relived the memories I had shared throughout the years with this pillow. We had been through a lot together. I briefly thought maybe I could just overlook the offensive "claw," but knew I could not. There comes a time when you have to move on. I would have to find another place to dream.
I'm still searching for a pillow that compares to that down-filled place I once layed my head. Although the years pass, I haven't given up hope. Someday I will find one, and when I do, I will sleep as I did once upon a time. Until then, I hope that misplaced appendage finds its way back to that legless chicken in the sky; the one that still cackles in my dreams now and again.
I think everybody will agree with me when I say, "I have a favorite pillow!" I found mine when I was in junior high school. It actually belonged to my Mom and was a true feather pillow. It would shape to my head every night and hold that shape perfectly throughout. It was so comfortable and cuddly. It was as if it gently cradled my head and lulled me to sleep every night, (or was that the late night studying that put me to sleep?) Ahhh, the memories.
After I graduated from high school and was packing up to go to BYU, my comfortable, old friend, that feather pillow, was one of the first things in my pile to go with me. Night after night, no matter what happened during the day, there was my pillow waiting for me.
And then it happened.
I was probably half way through my freshman year when the tragedy occurred. One night, after a grueling day of study, I snuggled down into my campus-appointed bed, hugged by my most favorite-of-all-times pillow. As I was sinking down into it, I felt a stick under my head. Now although my Dad may have thought I was a princess, I had never had a true "Princess and the Pea"experience. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Princess_and_the_Pea But, that was what was happening here. I thought of that story as I lay there, trying to think how a stick could have got into my pillow. I reached up, tentatively, and felt the piece of wood that was so irritating. As I ran my hand along to the end, I froze! To my horror, I felt a foot, a chicken's foot! They must have thrown the whole chicken in there, legs and all!
Sometimes, especially at night, you just can't deal with something like a claw in your pillow. I re-fluffed the pile of feathers, and although the Edgar Allen Poe story, "The Telltale Heart," http://www.poestories.com/read/telltaleheart beat in my head, I fell asleep to the rhythm.
Many nights I layed down, trying to ignore what I knew to be under my head. It couldn't be true. I had slept on this pillow every night for six years, or more. Why had I never discovered this THING?
One night, upon pulling back the covers, I could take it no more. I threw that pillow quickly to the floor. I would deal with the fiendish appendage in the light of day.
After I awoke, there was much to do. Studies to be read, tests to be taken, the everyday duties that come with living with five roommates; the list goes on and on. The forbidding task awaiting me at my bedside was too much. Maybe on the weekend I would get around to it. I pushed the pillow underneath my bed carefully with my foot.
That chicken foot lay under my bed for months. One morning, I awoke feeling invincible. Today was the day I was going to be free. Today was the day I would find "the claw" and take care of it. It would haunt my nights no more. I bravely pulled the pillow out from under the bed and felt around. I quickly found the offending "stick" and ran my fingers along it. I felt the knee joint, (or whatever that is called in a chicken), the scales along the leg, the foot that had shrivelled up into a claw, as if grasping onto something, probably life itself. I could not understand how I had missed this large appendage all of those years. But here it was, not in my mind, but sitting in my hands, as true as life.
I relived the memories I had shared throughout the years with this pillow. We had been through a lot together. I briefly thought maybe I could just overlook the offensive "claw," but knew I could not. There comes a time when you have to move on. I would have to find another place to dream.
I'm still searching for a pillow that compares to that down-filled place I once layed my head. Although the years pass, I haven't given up hope. Someday I will find one, and when I do, I will sleep as I did once upon a time. Until then, I hope that misplaced appendage finds its way back to that legless chicken in the sky; the one that still cackles in my dreams now and again.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Above and Beyond
Many of you are familiar with the stories of struggle and heartbreak endured by the Mormon pioneers, specifically, of the Martin Handcart Company. Realizing that so many of our ancestors are deserving of recognition, I want to honor three eighteen-year-old boys who went "above and beyond" any assigned duty or call they may have received, and share their story.
Because of extenuating circumstances, the Martin Handcart Company left later in the year than the other handcart companies. The winter storms were also unseasonably early. This combination caused much suffering and death to this faithful group of pioneers.
When Brigham Young heard of these Saints moving through Wyoming, on their trek to Utah, and their hardships, he immediately sent out a rescue party. In a letter to President Young, written by Captain George D. Grant, the rescue party leader, a description of the scene was as follows: "You can imagine between five and six hundred men, women, and children, worn down by drawing carts through mud an snow, fainting by the wayside, children crying with cold, their limbs stiffened, their feet bleeding, and some of them bare to the frost. The sight is too much for the stoutest of us, but we go on doing our duty, not doubting, nor despairing. Our party is too small to be of much of a help. ... We have prayed without ceasing, and the blessings of the Lord have been with us".
In the Improvement Era, January 1914 issue, Solomon F. Kimball wrote of this event. He published, "Those of the handcart people who were unable to walk were crowded into the overloaded wagons, and a start was made; the balance of the company hobbling along behind with their carts as best they could.
"When [they] came to the first crossing of the Sweetwater west of Devil's Gate, they found the stream full of floating ice, making it dangerous to cross, on account of the strong current. However, the teams went over in safety. ... When the people who were drawing carts came to the brink of the treacherous stream, they refused to go any further ... , as the water in places was almost waist deep, and the river more than a hundred feet wide. ... [They] remembered that nearly one-sixth of their number had already perished from the effects of crossing North Platte, eighteen days before. ...They ... cried mightily unto the Lord for help.
"After ... every apparent avenue of escape seemed closed, three eighteen-year-old boys belonging to the relief party came to the rescue, and to the astonishment of all who saw, carried nearly every member of that ill-fated handcart company across the snowbound stream. The strain was so terrible, and the exposure so great, that in later years all the boys died from the effects of it. When President Brigham Young heard of this heroic act, he wept like a child, and later declared publicly, 'that act alone will ensure C. Allen Huntington, George W. Grant, and David P. Kimball an everlasting salvation in the Celestial Kingdom of God, worlds without end.'"
Do we have the faith and courage to go "above and beyond" by serving our fellow men as these young boys? Although we may never have to face physical hardship that compares to that of the pioneers, there are people all around us that we can serve and help make their "trek" a little easier. I pray that we can find those who may be struggling and, like the Savior did, lift them up and make their burdens light.
Because of extenuating circumstances, the Martin Handcart Company left later in the year than the other handcart companies. The winter storms were also unseasonably early. This combination caused much suffering and death to this faithful group of pioneers.
When Brigham Young heard of these Saints moving through Wyoming, on their trek to Utah, and their hardships, he immediately sent out a rescue party. In a letter to President Young, written by Captain George D. Grant, the rescue party leader, a description of the scene was as follows: "You can imagine between five and six hundred men, women, and children, worn down by drawing carts through mud an snow, fainting by the wayside, children crying with cold, their limbs stiffened, their feet bleeding, and some of them bare to the frost. The sight is too much for the stoutest of us, but we go on doing our duty, not doubting, nor despairing. Our party is too small to be of much of a help. ... We have prayed without ceasing, and the blessings of the Lord have been with us".
In the Improvement Era, January 1914 issue, Solomon F. Kimball wrote of this event. He published, "Those of the handcart people who were unable to walk were crowded into the overloaded wagons, and a start was made; the balance of the company hobbling along behind with their carts as best they could.
"When [they] came to the first crossing of the Sweetwater west of Devil's Gate, they found the stream full of floating ice, making it dangerous to cross, on account of the strong current. However, the teams went over in safety. ... When the people who were drawing carts came to the brink of the treacherous stream, they refused to go any further ... , as the water in places was almost waist deep, and the river more than a hundred feet wide. ... [They] remembered that nearly one-sixth of their number had already perished from the effects of crossing North Platte, eighteen days before. ...They ... cried mightily unto the Lord for help.
"After ... every apparent avenue of escape seemed closed, three eighteen-year-old boys belonging to the relief party came to the rescue, and to the astonishment of all who saw, carried nearly every member of that ill-fated handcart company across the snowbound stream. The strain was so terrible, and the exposure so great, that in later years all the boys died from the effects of it. When President Brigham Young heard of this heroic act, he wept like a child, and later declared publicly, 'that act alone will ensure C. Allen Huntington, George W. Grant, and David P. Kimball an everlasting salvation in the Celestial Kingdom of God, worlds without end.'"
Do we have the faith and courage to go "above and beyond" by serving our fellow men as these young boys? Although we may never have to face physical hardship that compares to that of the pioneers, there are people all around us that we can serve and help make their "trek" a little easier. I pray that we can find those who may be struggling and, like the Savior did, lift them up and make their burdens light.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Crowning Moments!
It was a Wednesday night in November, nothing much going on, an ideal night to go watch the team roping at the Spanish Fork Fairgrounds arena. My BYU roommate, was going to go meet a friend of a friend and wanted me to go along. I thought it might be fun and was getting all decked out, (you know, like you used to do when it was all about you!) Finding a cute cowboy to date was what she was after, and I figured maybe I'd find my own. One of the guys in the Animal Science department with us at BYU worked on the church ranch in Florida with this particular roper my roommate wanted to meet. This gave us an in.
As we walked into the arena, the dust was settling as another team of ropers had taken their turn. Paul, our friend from the department, met us at the gate. The roper we were supposed to be meeting was just getting ready to rope. The clatter of the chute opening brought our attention to the action. Out flew 700 pounds of wild ropin' steer, followed closely by two cowboys swinging their ropes and reaching full throttle in one stride. The steer was fast, but the horses were faster. The header threw his 30-foot lasso, caught both horns, took his dally and turned a hasty left. This aided the heeler in getting in position. He threw his loop, caught both back feet, and simultaneously the two ropers faced in, and stretched that animal out: a perfect execution! It was a very impressive first meeting. The header was Richard, the cowboy we were supposed to be meeting.
Two weeks later, I got a phone call from Richard asking me to go horseback riding with him. Needless to say, things were a little tense around the apartment for a few days. My roommate was holding a little bit of a grudge against me. (Can I help it if I'm so cute?)
We went riding up Spanish Fork Canyon. When we got up to the top of the mountain, the snow was pretty deep and our horses were sinking up to their bellies. Richard was in front of me. I got off my horse and was able to stand on the snow. Because the horses were lower than usual, I asked Richard if I could do a leapfrog jump up on his horse. He made room and I jumped up behind him. This is when my "Crowning Moment" occurred. When I landed, we were pretty much nose to nose. That left only one thing for Richard to do.... That was our first KISS.
As they say, the rest is history. Six kids later, one of my favorite places to kiss Richard is still on the back of a horse and it's still a "Crowning Moment"!
As we walked into the arena, the dust was settling as another team of ropers had taken their turn. Paul, our friend from the department, met us at the gate. The roper we were supposed to be meeting was just getting ready to rope. The clatter of the chute opening brought our attention to the action. Out flew 700 pounds of wild ropin' steer, followed closely by two cowboys swinging their ropes and reaching full throttle in one stride. The steer was fast, but the horses were faster. The header threw his 30-foot lasso, caught both horns, took his dally and turned a hasty left. This aided the heeler in getting in position. He threw his loop, caught both back feet, and simultaneously the two ropers faced in, and stretched that animal out: a perfect execution! It was a very impressive first meeting. The header was Richard, the cowboy we were supposed to be meeting.
Two weeks later, I got a phone call from Richard asking me to go horseback riding with him. Needless to say, things were a little tense around the apartment for a few days. My roommate was holding a little bit of a grudge against me. (Can I help it if I'm so cute?)
We went riding up Spanish Fork Canyon. When we got up to the top of the mountain, the snow was pretty deep and our horses were sinking up to their bellies. Richard was in front of me. I got off my horse and was able to stand on the snow. Because the horses were lower than usual, I asked Richard if I could do a leapfrog jump up on his horse. He made room and I jumped up behind him. This is when my "Crowning Moment" occurred. When I landed, we were pretty much nose to nose. That left only one thing for Richard to do.... That was our first KISS.
As they say, the rest is history. Six kids later, one of my favorite places to kiss Richard is still on the back of a horse and it's still a "Crowning Moment"!
| Richard and Melanie Married March 7, 1997  |
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Everything I Learned, I Learned in Kindergarten...and Then Re-learned as a Mom!
Art 102: One of the most interesting parts of art class was the self-portrait segment. If this is a teacher's idea of improving one's image of themselves, I have to question their angle.
Looking back at my progression as a self-proclaimed budding artist, I take a look at the well-named stick figure. I knew that if I drew in big eyes and long hair with feathered bangs, the likeness to my own real self was amazingly accurate. Maybe I didn't notice I had two extra fingers on my left hand and one missing finger on my right, (or maybe I knew I would need extra fingers, and arms for that matter, to become a mother). Whatever the reason, thankfully I got past that stage and moved on to more realistic likenesses.
The older I got, the more detail I added; things such as eyelashes, (seven on each eye), and ears, (can we say Dumbo?), flat feet, (with clubfoot ankles), and toes, (the same size as my ears).
Regardless of my resemblance to any of these self-portraits, I never quit running home to show off the latest picture of me.
My kid's gallery of self-portraits has followed surprisingly close to my own. Thankfully, the feathered bangs are a thing of the past, (they were so hard to get just right), but the stick bodies holding up the beach ball-size heads have the most beautiful blue eyes and long hair on them. They must be my girls. And those club feet crammed into a pair of boots with perfect ears sticking out from under a cowboy hat must be my boys.
It's taken thirty years, but I'm again starting to see the resemblance.
Looking back at my progression as a self-proclaimed budding artist, I take a look at the well-named stick figure. I knew that if I drew in big eyes and long hair with feathered bangs, the likeness to my own real self was amazingly accurate. Maybe I didn't notice I had two extra fingers on my left hand and one missing finger on my right, (or maybe I knew I would need extra fingers, and arms for that matter, to become a mother). Whatever the reason, thankfully I got past that stage and moved on to more realistic likenesses.
The older I got, the more detail I added; things such as eyelashes, (seven on each eye), and ears, (can we say Dumbo?), flat feet, (with clubfoot ankles), and toes, (the same size as my ears).
Regardless of my resemblance to any of these self-portraits, I never quit running home to show off the latest picture of me.
My kid's gallery of self-portraits has followed surprisingly close to my own. Thankfully, the feathered bangs are a thing of the past, (they were so hard to get just right), but the stick bodies holding up the beach ball-size heads have the most beautiful blue eyes and long hair on them. They must be my girls. And those club feet crammed into a pair of boots with perfect ears sticking out from under a cowboy hat must be my boys.
It's taken thirty years, but I'm again starting to see the resemblance.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Tip of the Day... from shopping to taking family pix
My tip today has to do with grocery shopping. Although some of you may love cruising up and down aisles in the limo-sized police car carts, bumping into anyone who may be standing in an 8-foot radius, taking out the corner displays of every aisle as you try to turn, and smiling at all of the passers-by admiring the melting ice cream cone dripping down your little drivers' faces, I do not.
Now don't get me wrong. The invention of the make-believe-police-cars-hooked-to-a-cart were an ingenious idea. To actually have a little horn to beep and a steering wheel to spin keeps my kids occupied for at least half of my grocery shopping experience. I guess I'd just rather be raising chickens, or maybe cleaning marker off my walls.
Because the grocery shopping experience is not at the top of my list, I do it only once a month. Granted, I do have to run into a store an extra time during the month to restock my milk and lettuce supply, but I've pretty much got the once-a-month thing down to a science.
By shopping only once a month, I save a bundle of money. How many times do you run into a store for just one thing, and end up spending $50 to $100 more than you planned? Stores are so clever in where they put up their displays and sale items. Sometimes, it's just more than a value-seeking homemaker can resist. Thus, by only going into a store once a month, you avoid all temptation to go over budget.
Most money you spend grocery shopping should be spent on the items bought around the perimeter of the store. Every grocery store I've been in has fruits and vegetables, meats, dairy products, and breads around the outside of the store. These items are the healthiest and best value for your money. As you go in and out of aisles, you come across the processed and snack items. Not to say that these do not have a place in a pantry. One of my children in particular would starve if I didn't visit and stock up in the cold cereal aisle. But, even though dinner may take a little longer to make by using the fresh ingredients found around the perimeter of the store, it will be healthier for your family, and will have cost less.
When shopping once a month, you have to think about how to make food last until the next month. If I'm not watching my kids like a hawk when I get home from my big monthly shopping spree, they will have opened all of the fruit snacks, cookies, lunch meat, and candy for the whole month. By putting things out of sight and reach of my little snackers, I can bring things out one at a time and keep them fresher, (because the container has remained sealed), and it encourages the kids to snack on fruit or other perishables that they can more easily reach.
Preservation is also an important thing to think about when shopping once a month. Produce is probably the trickiest thing to keep on hand for the month. By placing paper towels in with your lettuce, it prolongs freshness by soaking up excess moisture which causes the lettuce to spoil. Apples put off a gas that tends to make your other fruits ripen and spoil faster. By keeping your apples separated from your bananas, tomatoes, etc., they last longer. I freeze a number of things to guarantee their freshness when I need them. Lunch meat, bread, cheese I cook with, dried fruit, and snack cakes are just a few of the things that come out almost as good as when I put them in. The only thing I've found with doing this is some of the items need to be used faster if they were once frozen, such as lunch meat.
I have an extra refrigerator in our shed where I put many items in that I won't be using right away. Common sense tells us that every time the refrigerator door is opened, cold air comes out and warm air goes in. Research has shown that this deteriorates cold foods faster. By storing extra gallons of milk in my extra fridge, they will last more than a week past the due date. Fruits and vegetables also benefit by preventing frequent temperature changes.
If nothing else, the time I save by only entering a grocery store once a month makes this plan worth it to me. By the time you get all of the kids out of car seats and booster seats, decide on the police car cart or the fire truck cart, run back out to the parking lot to get the cart the kids want, buckle them in a cart, make a side run to the bakery for a cookie, come back to the front of the store to start shopping, get to the back of the store and your kids decide they have to go to the bathroom, make a run for the restroom at the front of the store, come back out of the bathroom to find someone has stolen your cart, and then start over, it's time to pick the other kids up from school.
Shopping once a month may seem intimidating at first. For the first several months, my husband would walk into the pantry and mention, "Hmmm, it must be the end of the month." When going to check out, you may see baggers running to hide just so they don't have to bag up all of your groceries. As you're pushing one overflowing cart and two store employees are following you to your car with equally full carts, it may be a little embarrassing. But in the end, think of this: they won't remember you because you won't be back for another month!
Now don't get me wrong. The invention of the make-believe-police-cars-hooked-to-a-cart were an ingenious idea. To actually have a little horn to beep and a steering wheel to spin keeps my kids occupied for at least half of my grocery shopping experience. I guess I'd just rather be raising chickens, or maybe cleaning marker off my walls.
Because the grocery shopping experience is not at the top of my list, I do it only once a month. Granted, I do have to run into a store an extra time during the month to restock my milk and lettuce supply, but I've pretty much got the once-a-month thing down to a science.
By shopping only once a month, I save a bundle of money. How many times do you run into a store for just one thing, and end up spending $50 to $100 more than you planned? Stores are so clever in where they put up their displays and sale items. Sometimes, it's just more than a value-seeking homemaker can resist. Thus, by only going into a store once a month, you avoid all temptation to go over budget.
Most money you spend grocery shopping should be spent on the items bought around the perimeter of the store. Every grocery store I've been in has fruits and vegetables, meats, dairy products, and breads around the outside of the store. These items are the healthiest and best value for your money. As you go in and out of aisles, you come across the processed and snack items. Not to say that these do not have a place in a pantry. One of my children in particular would starve if I didn't visit and stock up in the cold cereal aisle. But, even though dinner may take a little longer to make by using the fresh ingredients found around the perimeter of the store, it will be healthier for your family, and will have cost less.
When shopping once a month, you have to think about how to make food last until the next month. If I'm not watching my kids like a hawk when I get home from my big monthly shopping spree, they will have opened all of the fruit snacks, cookies, lunch meat, and candy for the whole month. By putting things out of sight and reach of my little snackers, I can bring things out one at a time and keep them fresher, (because the container has remained sealed), and it encourages the kids to snack on fruit or other perishables that they can more easily reach.
Preservation is also an important thing to think about when shopping once a month. Produce is probably the trickiest thing to keep on hand for the month. By placing paper towels in with your lettuce, it prolongs freshness by soaking up excess moisture which causes the lettuce to spoil. Apples put off a gas that tends to make your other fruits ripen and spoil faster. By keeping your apples separated from your bananas, tomatoes, etc., they last longer. I freeze a number of things to guarantee their freshness when I need them. Lunch meat, bread, cheese I cook with, dried fruit, and snack cakes are just a few of the things that come out almost as good as when I put them in. The only thing I've found with doing this is some of the items need to be used faster if they were once frozen, such as lunch meat.
I have an extra refrigerator in our shed where I put many items in that I won't be using right away. Common sense tells us that every time the refrigerator door is opened, cold air comes out and warm air goes in. Research has shown that this deteriorates cold foods faster. By storing extra gallons of milk in my extra fridge, they will last more than a week past the due date. Fruits and vegetables also benefit by preventing frequent temperature changes.
If nothing else, the time I save by only entering a grocery store once a month makes this plan worth it to me. By the time you get all of the kids out of car seats and booster seats, decide on the police car cart or the fire truck cart, run back out to the parking lot to get the cart the kids want, buckle them in a cart, make a side run to the bakery for a cookie, come back to the front of the store to start shopping, get to the back of the store and your kids decide they have to go to the bathroom, make a run for the restroom at the front of the store, come back out of the bathroom to find someone has stolen your cart, and then start over, it's time to pick the other kids up from school.
Shopping once a month may seem intimidating at first. For the first several months, my husband would walk into the pantry and mention, "Hmmm, it must be the end of the month." When going to check out, you may see baggers running to hide just so they don't have to bag up all of your groceries. As you're pushing one overflowing cart and two store employees are following you to your car with equally full carts, it may be a little embarrassing. But in the end, think of this: they won't remember you because you won't be back for another month!
Down on the Farm: Imposters!
Our family lives on a little ranchette in the almost never-heard-of town of Birdseye. We raise horses, cattle, pigeons, dogs, and occasionally, sheep. We're pretty high on being self-sufficient. In order to increase our own food production, we decided to raise chickens. This, we felt, was such an ingenious plan. We could supply ourselves with eggs and save so much money.
When chicks went on sale at Cal-Ranch, the kids and I hurried over to get the best selection. Although to the untrained eye the chicks all looked the same, I was convinced that by picking each one up, flipping it over several times, and comparing fluff length, I would pick the best egg-layers in the bunch. (Thankfully, before they were sent, they had been sexed and only females were being sold here.)
We decided that each of our children, (five at the time), would get to claim their own avian baby. As a matter of precaution, I bought eight, in case somebody's chick decided living wasn't all it's cracked up to be.
Because Birdseye freezes well into June, and it was only March, the chicks were too little to go outside. Thus, our small laundry/mud room became the temporary hen house for our little brood. This wasn't so bad the first week when all of the chicks fit in a cake pan, but not long after that, they started growing. Unfortunately, all eight survived. Not only were they taking up more space, they would stand in their food and "scratch" it all over the place. Since they were now eating so well, you can imagine what other messes they were also making all over the place. We were running out of newspaper, space, and patience. But, what's a responsible chicken-owner to do but continue on.
Finally, with the addition of a 75 watt light bulb, a heated waterer, some nesting boxes, a self-feeder, and a bag of gravel, to aid in digestion, we moved our chicks down to the barn in a newly-built shed/chicken pen. Now, we could just sit back and watch as our little hens grew and provided us with homemade eggs by the dozen.
Having not studied up on the production of chickens as we maybe ought to have, we were finding that you could probably buy dozens and dozens of eggs for the cost of keeping eight growing birds in stock with laying mash. They went through it like water through a sieve. Every time we turned around, they were out of food and we were headed back to Cal-Ranch to get the specially formulated feed that produces Grade A eggs. Of course, our birds weren't laying yet, because they have to be at least eight months old; another thing we maybe should have studied up on.
So, a long seven to eight months later, we were noticing how some of our so-called hens were growing larger combs on the top of their heads. We joked about the absurdity and irony of some of our "pricey" egg-layers turning out to be roosters. It really wasn't as funny as we thought it would be when one morning, we heard a crowing coming from our hen house. Sure enough, one of our hens turned out not to be a hen.
We took our loss in stride and decided it was probably a good thing all eight birds lived, so that we now would have at least seven egg producers. Not two days later, we were surprised to hear another crowing answering the first one. Okay, two out of eight isn't THAT bad.
As the week went by, one by one, our eight little hens all began cock-a-doodling. Our dreams of eggs Benedict, omelet extravaganzas, boiled, scrambled, and fried eggs, and any other egg concoctions we may have dreamed of, went flying out the hen house door.
We fed those impostor chickens another three months, hoping that maybe, with all of the laying mash they had consumed, maybe, just maybe, they would squeeze just one little egg out for us. Well, at the end of yet another expensive bag of feed, we decided we'd fattened them up enough: just perfectly, in fact, for chicken noodle soup, chicken enchiladas, fried chicken, roasted chicken, stuffed chicken....
When chicks went on sale at Cal-Ranch, the kids and I hurried over to get the best selection. Although to the untrained eye the chicks all looked the same, I was convinced that by picking each one up, flipping it over several times, and comparing fluff length, I would pick the best egg-layers in the bunch. (Thankfully, before they were sent, they had been sexed and only females were being sold here.)
We decided that each of our children, (five at the time), would get to claim their own avian baby. As a matter of precaution, I bought eight, in case somebody's chick decided living wasn't all it's cracked up to be.
Because Birdseye freezes well into June, and it was only March, the chicks were too little to go outside. Thus, our small laundry/mud room became the temporary hen house for our little brood. This wasn't so bad the first week when all of the chicks fit in a cake pan, but not long after that, they started growing. Unfortunately, all eight survived. Not only were they taking up more space, they would stand in their food and "scratch" it all over the place. Since they were now eating so well, you can imagine what other messes they were also making all over the place. We were running out of newspaper, space, and patience. But, what's a responsible chicken-owner to do but continue on.
Finally, with the addition of a 75 watt light bulb, a heated waterer, some nesting boxes, a self-feeder, and a bag of gravel, to aid in digestion, we moved our chicks down to the barn in a newly-built shed/chicken pen. Now, we could just sit back and watch as our little hens grew and provided us with homemade eggs by the dozen.
Having not studied up on the production of chickens as we maybe ought to have, we were finding that you could probably buy dozens and dozens of eggs for the cost of keeping eight growing birds in stock with laying mash. They went through it like water through a sieve. Every time we turned around, they were out of food and we were headed back to Cal-Ranch to get the specially formulated feed that produces Grade A eggs. Of course, our birds weren't laying yet, because they have to be at least eight months old; another thing we maybe should have studied up on.
So, a long seven to eight months later, we were noticing how some of our so-called hens were growing larger combs on the top of their heads. We joked about the absurdity and irony of some of our "pricey" egg-layers turning out to be roosters. It really wasn't as funny as we thought it would be when one morning, we heard a crowing coming from our hen house. Sure enough, one of our hens turned out not to be a hen.
We took our loss in stride and decided it was probably a good thing all eight birds lived, so that we now would have at least seven egg producers. Not two days later, we were surprised to hear another crowing answering the first one. Okay, two out of eight isn't THAT bad.
As the week went by, one by one, our eight little hens all began cock-a-doodling. Our dreams of eggs Benedict, omelet extravaganzas, boiled, scrambled, and fried eggs, and any other egg concoctions we may have dreamed of, went flying out the hen house door.
We fed those impostor chickens another three months, hoping that maybe, with all of the laying mash they had consumed, maybe, just maybe, they would squeeze just one little egg out for us. Well, at the end of yet another expensive bag of feed, we decided we'd fattened them up enough: just perfectly, in fact, for chicken noodle soup, chicken enchiladas, fried chicken, roasted chicken, stuffed chicken....
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