Bacon Heals All Wounds

All this talk about getting a house....

I'm feeling homey! That and my man is working from home this week AND NEXT WEEK, TOO!! So, I'm pretending that we have somewhat of a normal life. I've cooked and baked everyday this week. I don't do that on a good week in For Real normal life. Then there's the new, gazelle-intense frugality as we face the largest financial transaction of our entire lives!!! No more convenience foods. No more eating-out at all--and I mean all--of Arkansas' finest, smokiest, and greasiest eateries. I love me some Arkansas food! But if I want anymore of it from here on out, I'm going to have to get really good at convincing others to pay for it. ;) But I've never been good at that. I'll just sick Li'l Bit on 'em. She could convince a man he wants to become a woman given enough time. She's smooth.

I digress.

The fact that my mother-in-law bought a huge package of thick-cut bacon vastly improved this week's menu. (We've used almost the whole thing.) We've had Easy Bacon Chicken w/ whole wheat rolls, then the trusty Red Beans and Rice--ah, the taste of Debt Free!--w/ Irish Soda Bread for a change. Tonight dinner consisted of one thing, and one thing only: Bacon Twists. I LOVE this recipe! It was the first yeast bread recipe I made which empowered me to venture forth with others. *iloveyeast* Is that a sin?

Seriously, baking is my favorite me-thing in the whole world. (until I learn a musical instrument) But it had humble roots. When Gizmo was a babe I read The Total Money Makeover, by Dave Ramsey. I was All In from the first word, and we had tons of debt to pay off. I didn't make any money, but I could save our money on food for shiz. As I pared down our menu choices, I had to find a way to cheaply supplement for our high standard of flavor and sustenance. So I started baking. From scratch. I felt like I could serve any meager meal, as long as there was homemade bread on the side or a from-scratch dessert to follow--or in some cases, both. As long as I kept my pantry stocked with the basics, I could conjure up a good meal from nothing at all.

Without further ado, here it is. This is what we had for dinner tonight:

Bacon Twists

4 cups all-purpose flour

1 pkg. active dry yeast

1 tsp. each of sugar & salt

1 2/3 cups hand-hot water

1 egg

12 bacon strips

1 beaten egg

~Put all the water in your mixing bowl, sprinkle yeast over the top and stir just enough to wet it. Allow to sit for 10 minutes until you see the yeast activating (changing into a foamy substance.)

~Add sugar, salt, egg, and 2 cups of flour. (you can omit the egg if you need to. but why would you want to go and do a thing like that?) Mix well. Add the rest of the flour until you're kneading. Basically you want it to turn into a ball of dough that comes together, neither too sticky nor stiff. The happy in-between.

~Divide into 12 equal parts and roll each into a snake about 5 or 6 inches long.

~Wrap each snake with a piece of bacon and place on a greased baking sheet. Brush your bacon-strangled snakes with the beaten egg.

~Leave in a warm spot for 30 minutes, until fluffed up a bit.

~Bake in a 400 degree oven for 20-25 minutes, until cooked and browned. (decrease temp by 25 degrees for dark pans or typically over-hot ovens.)

~When done, these are great alone or served with a spinach or other herb-y dip.

Promises, promises...

A home inspection on a New England colonial built in 1832 can turn up some very interesting things. Take for instance, an abandoned--ahem, an OLD, abandoned toilet in the dirt-floor basement. Our inspector advised us to not use it. Don't have to tell us twice.

And then there's the main structural beam that needs some help. Not because of moisture or termites, but simply because of age. Or the dryer that vents directly into the laundry room and not the great outdoors. Or the 6 1/2 foot ceilings upstairs. Or the clogged sink drain. Or the electrical outlets not up to code. Or the bad caulk job in the bathroom.

But do you know what it does have?

For us?

Promise.

I'm not talking about flipping the house. As crazy as it sounds, we aren't solely sold on the real estate potential. We're sold on the promise of a home. We're sold on the promise that God can provide for all our needs.

When we started this crazy Arkansas experiment, one of our greatest hopes was that we might actually save enough bank to buy a house in the Boston area. That hope became an unspoken dream, which quickly became a pipe dream. I even became embarrassed that I had thought it possible.

Then this happened.

Not two weeks ago, B.daddy sent me a link to a house. He's done this a number of times, and every time I've said, "Yeah. Nice. But what do you want for dinner?" This time, I saw it. My immediate response: "This might be perfect." I realize perfect is a relative term, especially since I was sitting in a very luxurious, southern home at the time. This house could not be more dramatically juxtaposed to another house. But perfect it is.

When we left Boston in February, I started praying for our future home. I prayed for an extra bedroom...it has it. I prayed for an extra space for schooling...it has it. I prayed for a deck and a backyard...check. I prayed for a laundry room on the main living floor...yep. (Didn't think to pray about the venting. *wink*) My list of specific requests was daringly long, and God has provided every single thing in this old, quirky house. All of that and it's less than $300k! Needless to say, we love it!

This has been one refining process. Let me tell ya'. Apparently I have some trust issues. And, apparently, I'm kind of prone to freaking out when I can't control the outcome of things. It took 48 hours to get our offer signed, and I've never prayed so hard and continually in my life excepting childbirth. And I've never cried so hysterically in all my life as when I thought we were going to lose it.

So, our offer has indeed been signed, and obviously we've had our inspection done. In Mass you have to go through another step before closing. It's kind of a big deal. It's the Purchase and Sale Agreement, and we aren't supposed to fall in love with the house until that is signed. Too late for that.

But you know what? We're all in. Feet first. I'm trusting that this can happen.