How to cut down on the committee work in a marriage

This picture shows the door sidelight that I mentioned as being one of my recent projects. The opening originally contained a single thickness of fluted glass that I broke ten years ago (don't worry, it was an accident), after which I filled the opening with plywood that was covered over with lattice on the inside and painted to match the door on the outside. I never liked this arrangement because one end of the living room stayed dark. I couldn't find a full piece of glass that didn't strike me as a burglar hazard, and Peggy wouldn't agree to bars for added security so, after the passage of several years, we recently compromised on this arrangement. What you're looking at are two pieces of 5/8 plywood with a thick piece of laminated, frosted glass sandwiched in-between. The assembly is held in place with stout molding and long nails on the outside, and stout molding and long screws on the inside. Peggy argued for thinner plywood, and Peggy gets her way more often than not because I find it easier to give in than to spend eleventeen hours in committee. But when it comes to security, I'm often adamant, so Peggy will usually capitulate at the outset unless what I'm proposing is a complete deal-killer for her, as were the window bars I mentioned.

Our first thought was for the cutouts to be cats or maybe a crescent moon and stars, but we decided we would be less likely to tire of something less cutesy, so Peggy drew this pattern. I think it goes well with our 1955 house. As for the rest of the picture, we bought the lion's head door knocker in the '70s, and have put it on a few houses by now. I built the mail-slot because I couldn't find a ready made one that I liked. The pineapple was a Peggy purchase that she says represents hospitality--in Hawaii, I think. When a poor country boy marries a globe-trotting girl Air Force brat, he learns things like that.

Manly-Man's Battle Bars

Some of you asked for this recipe a couple of posts back. You can name it anything you want to. I just call it "regular crackers" to distinguish it from the other crackers I bake. Maybe I should call it Manly-Man's Battle Bars.

9 cups flour (I combine whole grain wheat, spelt, barley, and rye, with 1/2 cup of ground flaxseed.)

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 cup warm honey (or however much you want)
2+ cups warm water (water and honey mix into the dough better when warm). Add slowly, and vary the amount as needed to get a dough that is moist but not sticky.

Appx 3/4-cup oil (I use canola.)

This is a big recipe (I would guess 200-250 crackers that are 2/3 the size of a saltine) so feel free to halve it. Alternate adding the oil and water because the dough will be less sticky than if you put the oil in ahead of the water, but not slippery and dripping the way it would be if you put it in after the water. This recipe takes about 2 1/2 hours from start to finish unless you have a oven that will hold more than two cookies sheets.

My Kitchen Aide Mixer isn't big enough for so much dough, so I mix two separate recipes, one at a time, and then join them together with my hands before I ever start rolling them out. Flour the dough no more than necessary as you roll it, and aim for a thickness that is maybe a little thicker than a saltine. I would suggest that you cut the rolled dough into squares so you won't have to re-roll the large amount of leftover dough that results from rounds. You can roll flax, caraway, or sesame seeds into the top of the dough. If you do this a little before your final rolling, they will stick better than if you forget and add them at the last minute as I often do.

Hold a fork in each hand and poke the rolled dough a few times to prevent air pockets from forming in the oven. Now, you are ready to cut the rolled dough into cracker size pieces. I would suggest that you use a large cutting board for this along with a large sharp knife because a large knife will cut faster and straighter than a small one. Bake at 290° to 325°, depending on how fast you want to roll out crackers to replace the ones that are coming out of the oven. I prefer cookie sheets that have an air pocket in the middle because crackers are prone to burn on bottom, and the air pocket helps.

Flip the crackers once or twice during baking. Move the top cookie sheet to the bottom and the bottom cookie sheet to the top (turning each around) after you flip them. This will help prevent burning. I check on them every three to five minutes, and more often than that as they get closer to being done because the time between being done and being burned isn't much. You will also find that the crackers toward the edges get done ahead of the crackers toward the middle. Just don’t leave any of them in until they're more than slightly brown because it will give them a different taste that is somewhere between done and burned. This isn't necessarily bad, but you probably wouldn't want them all that way. If you don't know whether to take one out or not, err on the side of caution until you develop of feel for what to do. Spread them on a countertop to cool and harden. I freeze them in quart bags but we used to take them traveling, and they would still be good after two months without refrigeration.

These crackers aren't anything like the ones you can buy in a store, even a health food store. They're more on the order of American Civil War hardtack but not as thick. If you want to go decadent right out of the gate, you can substitute Parmesan or some other cheese for about half the flour, and throw in however much cayenne you think you would like (if you're a woos, about a half tsp). This makes for a slightly more difficult dough but a damn tasty cracker. Substituting corn meal for about a fourth of the flour is another option, and it makes for a delightful dough, but the cracker itself is a little hard to bite into even when it's thin. Yet another option is to make a flour out of walnuts or pecans, and substitute some of that for some of the real flour. Crackers invite such experimentation.

Making crackers relaxes me, and I especially enjoy it at night in the dead of winter when rain is falling and Peggy is away. I will put on a Western movie, smoke some pot, and bake until I'm baked out. Sometimes, I bake biscuits and cornbread on the same night that I bake crackers. Between the movie and the marijuana, you might think I must burn a lot of dough, but I guess I've baked for so many years that it's not enough of a challenge that I need to be at the top of my game. I just have to remember that I have crackers in the oven; after that, the rest follows. Try using a timer if you want to, but you will have to reset it a lot. 

Neat Street versus Junkyard Boulevard

I’m cleaning house today because two and a half weeks have passed since the last time (I’ve been working outdoors), and I couldn’t stand it any longer. Life would be easier if I were adaptable to dirt and disorder. Before I could move my ailing father to Oregon in 1992, I had to dispose of his stuff, and this meant staying in his house, which was so cluttered with old newspapers, magazines, junk mail, things he had brought home from the dump, and, seemingly, everything he had ever purchased, that I had to sidestep through rooms. The house and everything in it smelled of mildew, and the toilet looked like it had been stolen from a rundown gas station. His cleaning efforts were limited to the dishes, and they were slippery with grease. The only good thing I can say about his housekeeping is that he didn't have any pets to add their own stench of neglect. Otherwise, I would have slept in the yard for the three weeks that it took me to dispose of his stuff at a rate of one truckload a day to the dump, one to the junkyard, and one to get rid of at an estate sale.

His level of filth peaked after my mother died, but both they and my sister always leaned in that direction, and I always leaned in the opposite. Keeping things clean and orderly doesn’t make me happy, but if I were forced to live otherwise, I would have to create my own little oasis in the midst of it, however small that oasis might be. I have done this my whole life long to some extent. In this house, my oasis is my bedroom because it is the only room over which I have complete control. My need for household simplicity is such that when Peggy went away last week, I immediately tidied up the bathroom by putting her shampoo, conditioner, and razor in a cabinet so I wouldn't have to look at more clutter than necessary.

I only know one person who is almost my equal in cleanliness and order, and it’s not Peggy, although, if she had to do her own housework, she would do better than most. Like a lot of people, Peggy likes things to look good on the surface, but takes no interest in cleaning out her drawers, file cabinets, and closets. I take this to suggest hypocrisy, although she finds that conjecture too boring to consider (Peggy has zero interest in discussing or even thinking about morality, ethics, religion, atheism, government, politics, or philosophy.)

I am unlike Peggy to the extent that there is no part of my property that escapes my scrutiny, including the attic, the crawlspace, and even Peggy’s drawers and closets once they approach the point of popping like boils and inundating the house with putrescence. I used to think that THIS time when I cleaned and organized her things, she would finally see how much better life would be if she too lived like this, but I finally realized that I would die before that day arrived. I’m no longer sure if any of us ever change in a fundamental way, but if we do, I would suspect that it’s in response to some new condition in our lives that, if removed, would eliminate the change.