The Thrill of Victory

I had a prize-winning pie at the Stafford County Fair last week. And to think, I almost didn't even take it to get judged.

I am my own worst critic (just ask my family). I made two Cherry Berry Pies last Friday evening. One, I intended to take to the Stafford County Fair's Hudson Cream Flour Bakeoff on Saturday morning.

The other, I made because my husband said, with puppy-dog eyes and with a pleading voice, "Do I get a pie, too?"

My pie crust recipe makes three pie crusts. I had just made him a blueberry pie (I've even written a post about the blueberry pie, but I've had so many other timely things to write about, I haven't posted it yet). So it's not like he's been deprived.

But I really don't make pie that often. And he's a pretty good guy. So I made another pie for him. It just wasn't the picture-perfect version.

I had stashed my extra pie crust from the blueberry pie baking day in the freezer. That one was already fluted and ready for use as a one-crust pie. But instead, I used it along with the extra pie crust from my Hudson Cream Flour Bakeoff baking session.

It's hard to seal an already-crimped crust with a new one on top. So it boiled over and the filling just didn't set up that well.

I had already experienced the agony of defeat with my bread baking endeavor for the same bakeoff (Read about that tomorrow: I had to post the Thrill of Victory first. Don't you remember Saturday afternoon and ABC's Wide World of Sports? The tagline was "The thrill of victory, the agony of defeat. But, as usual, I digress ...)

This was not the first time I had spent an evening baking for the Hudson Cream Flour Bakeoff ... and then decided nothing was "good enough" to take. I am the queen of that. In fact, I told Randy Friday night, "PLEASE remind me not to do this next year."

But, Saturday morning, I woke up, and I looked at the pie again. Looking through the strawberry-shaped vent hole, I thought to myself, "Well, it looks like it's set up."

So with trepidation, I took my pie to the fair.

Al Brensing, who IS Hudson Cream Flour, was there when I entered it.

"That looks really good," he said.

I told him, "Well, we'll see if the filling holds up when the judge cuts it."

And it did! She said that it probably was on the verge of being "overfull" and I was "teetering with disaster." But, since I averted disaster, it was a pretty good pie. She complimented the "melding" of the three berries, but also noted she could taste each one.

It was good enough to earn me second place in her eyes. It was second to Sharon, who is a champion pie baker, bread maker and all-around great cook, so that was good enough for me.

The winners: Brianna McNickle (one of my 4-H foods and nutrition kids!), 3rd with an apple pie; Sharon Allen, 1st, with a fresh apricot pie; me, 2nd; Jim Sellers, 4th with an apple cranberry pie.

The Stafford County Commissioners also get to choose their favorite pie. And they chose my Cherry Berry Pie! The pie I almost didn't bring earned me $30 bucks - $15 from the commissioners and $15 from Stafford County Flour Mills, the maker of Hudson Cream Flour (the best flour of all time, really and truly. I'm not just saying that because they paid me $15!)

Well, I earned $30 if you don't count all the money I spent enlarging and matting photos for the open class photo show ... and if you don't count all the ingredients that went into the pies.

OK. Maybe I didn't really make $30. But my prize-winning pie helped me so I didn't end up quite so far in the hole.

And, as Randy says, it's good to exhibit in the local fair. You want people to have something to look at when they come to visit.

Wait ... maybe, he just wants another pie.

Cherry Berry Pie
(From Taste of Home magazine with a few variations)

2 cups tart cherries, pitted (I used canned)
2 cups fresh blueberries
1 cup chopped fresh strawberries (I did chop them fairly fine)
3/4 cup sugar
3 tbsp. cornstarch
2 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. almond extract
Dash salt
2 tbsp. butter
Pastry for double crust pie
A little milk
A little sugar

In a large bowl, combine cherries, blueberries and chopped strawberries. Add lemon juice and almond extract. Combine sugar, salt and cornstarch, mixing very well. Add to fruit mixture. Line a 9-inch pie plate with bottom crust. Fill with fruit mixture and dot with butter.

Top with remaining pastry. Trim, seal and flute edges. Use a miniature cookie cutter to make a vent hole or just put vent slashes in the top crust with a knife. With a pastry brush, lightly brush top crust with milk. Sprinkle with sugar.

Shield crust edges with foil guards. Bake at 400 degrees for 45 to 55 minutes or until crust is light brown and filling is bubbly. Cool on wire rack. Yield: 8 servings.

Never Fail Pie Crust

3 cups flour
1 tsp. salt
1 1/4 cups shortening
5 tbsp. water
1 tbsp. vinegar
1 egg, beaten

Stir together flour and salt. Cut in shortening with a pastry blender until well blended. Stir together water, vinegar and beaten egg. Add to flour mixture. Stir with a fork until a dough starts to form and pulls away from the side of the bowl. You may need to use your hands to help form it into a ball. Divide into thirds, as this recipe makes 3 crusts (enough for a 2-crusted pie and one single crust. I usually just put the extra crust in the freezer to use later for a one-crust pie.)

Enjoy!

Message from God

Message from God (via Facebook)

On this day, God wants you to know ...
that change is the very nature of life. Welcome it!

This message was on a Facebook friend's profile. And it was almost like the heavens cracked open, lightning struck and the voice of God was talking to me.

You see, I'm not so fond of change. I never have been.

Yet I know change is inevitable. And often the changes I dread the most are the ones that bring new joy to my life.

Even as a kid, I had trouble with change. My first private voice teacher was a lovely lady. Her name was Mrs. Dillinger. I even remember the first song she ever had me sing for her. It was Tammy: "I hear the cottonwood whistling above, Tammy, Tammy, Tammy's in love."

I think it was from a television show. It wasn't exactly a Puccini aria.

I loved to sing. I loved private voice lessons. I loved Mrs. Dillinger. So when she moved, I thought it would be the end of my singing career. There could be no one like Mrs. Dillinger.

And there wasn't. There was even better.

The same goes for our move from the little Byers United Methodist Church to the big Pratt United Methodist Church. I'd been going to Byers from the time my parents carried me through the doors as a newborn.

I knew nothing about the church in Pratt, other than it was BIG and it was that place where the steeple stood taller than practically anything else in town. Who would I know? How would I know the routine? Who would care about me?

But my parents decided it was a change we were going to make as a family. And, again, it turned out to be even better. I had a Sunday School class with kids my own age. I had a Sunday School teacher who still cares about me and my family today. I got to sing in the chancel choir. It was the place where I became Mrs. Randy Fritzemeier, another big - but wonderful - change in my life.

Like the Facebook message said: Change is the very nature of life.

However, I must be a slow learner. I still drag my heels with change.

I think part of the reluctance is because I don't want to make a "wrong" or "bad" decision. Big or small, it doesn't seem to matter.

Last week, I had to buy a new recliner. That should be good news, right? But it took 10 years to break in the old one. It fit me just right. Plus, I wasn't replacing all the furniture in the living room. So what if it doesn't look good now? What if I need to replace the rest of the furniture at some point and I can't find something to "match?"

Sure, there was that little problem with not being able to put the footrest up or down. So change was forced upon me.

I've had it less than a week, and it's already starting to feel like home, even though I haven't had much time to sit in it.

My camera battery is dying. But this camera has been good to me. Will a new camera give me the color I want? Will it give me the close-up quality I've had in this old Kodak Easy Share that I got in 2006 on a WalMart sale table? (And, yes, I was one of those holdouts who was reluctant to part with my good film camera. There's that whole change issue rearing its ugly head again! But would I go back now? Not a chance!)

To complicate this decision-challenged, change-phobic life even further, now you can research all the options on the internet. The internet is great, and I love being able to type "Top 10 point and shoot digital cameras" into a search engine. BUT ... then there is a confusing avalanche of options. Who do I listen to? What should I do? Most importantly, WHAT IF I MAKE THE WRONG CHOICE? (By the way, if you have a personal recommendation about a good camera, please let me know!)

So, this Message from God really struck me:

On this day, God wants you to know ...
that change is the very nature of life. Welcome it!

No glass ever became sand again.


No bread ever became wheat.

No ripened fruit ever became a flower.

Welcome change, and choose what kind of glass you create, what kind of bread you bake, what kind of fruit you harvest.

Hoping you have a good day - whether it's a routine day or filled with change.

Blink

As a parent, you may not see your kids change that quickly.

You see them at the breakfast table every day. You help cram the homework in their backpacks before they race out the door. You holler at them to pick up their stuff ... right now!

But you don't see the day-to-day changes. You don't realize that they've grown an inch in the past couple of months. You don't realize that one day, you don't have to yell at them to pick up their stuff ... well, maybe that one never happens.

I do think we are more apt to notice the differences from the outside looking in. It's when you see that 4-Her from across the county who seems to have grown a foot from last year's fair to this year's version. You see the junior high girl from just down the road who - seemingly overnight - is no longer a freckle-faced little girl but a makeup-wearing, hair-just-so young lady.

It's been that way with the milo crop, too. I have zipped by it on the way to and from the fair. Sure, it's been green over there in my peripheral vision. But sometime, when I wasn't looking, it grew a foot.

I took this photo of the milo on July 9.


Then on July 18, less than 10 days later, it had grown by leaps and bounds.

That's what a little bit of rain will do for you.

I know that some Kansas farmers got more rain than they needed at one time last week. My folks had 4.3 inches all at once in one location, and no less than 1.8 inches throughout their farm's fields. The Macksville farmers at the fair were talking about some fields flooding with their 3.5-plus inches of rain.

But, right here at home, we got just a half inch of moisture. And the milo took a deep drink and grew ... and grew some more.

The weatherman says it will be a week of temperatures hovering around the century mark. There's no rain in sight on the extended forecast. So the milo may change again with some heat stress - and not for the better this time.

You blink, and things change ... whether you're talking a milo crop or a child who is there at home one minute. And you turn around, and they are all grown up.

Life happens ... whether we're looking or not.

Buddy

Randy got reacquainted with a couple of old friends last week. Aubrey and Buddy came to the Stafford County Fair.

Buddy started life on The County Line in February. He was a twin, and the mom claimed his sibling and not him.

How could you not choose that cute little face, right?

But that is sometimes life on the farm. So Randy bottle fed him during his first few weeks of life.

Then Buddy found a new friend, a 4-Her named Aubrey. Unlike his mother, Aubrey loved him and cared for him and obviously fed him.

He had grown quite a bit since we'd said goodbye in late February.

(Note the difference in Buddy's height compared to Aubrey last February when she came to take him home. Then check him out in the photo at the top of the post taken last week.)

Aubrey and Buddy were in the bucket calf show at the 2010 Stafford County Fair.

Both our kids loved the bucket calf project. And they both learned a lot of life lessons from their succession of bucket calves. They learned that their calves had to be fed and watered every day, whether it was snowing outside or was 100 degrees in the shade. They learned that you had to work with a calf to make him lead. You had to do it even if your favorite TV show was on.

The appropriately-named Runaway taught Jill that Dad didn't REALLY mean for you to hold onto the lead rope NO MATTER WHAT!

Brent's bucket calf crop was a line-up of Wildcat football-inspired names like Michael (Bishop) and Willie (Wildcat) and (Jeff) Kelly (because it was a girl).

The bucket calf project also led our kids to the market beef project, which taught another bevy of life lessons.

Brent learned to say goodbye to old friends in this project. After the first year or two, our kids also brought their bucket calves back to the fair the next year as a market steer. Market steers and their 4-Hers can go through the livestock premium auction.

But then the reality hits. This friend who you've loved and cared for during the past couple of years is not going to be out in the corral any longer. It's another life lesson when the trailer comes to haul your friend away.

Jill never seemed to have the emotional attachment to her bucket calves. She was already adding up the auction proceeds and putting them in her college account.

But it took Brent a few years to be able to see the upside of this painful goodbye.

So we have a soft spot in our hearts for the bucket calf project, one of the reasons Randy and I sponsor the bucket calf showmanship trophy at the fair.

Who needs a carnival when you can watch a bucket calf show? At our fair, the show is more about what the 4-Her knows than the quality of the calf or how the calf is "fitted," or prepared, for the show.

At the Pratt County Fair, the judge has a microphone, and the audience can hear the 4-Hers' responses to questions about how much the calf was fed, what it was fed, what the grain mix was, what kind of shots were given and so on and so forth.

At our fair, it's just between the judge and the 4-Her. The audience isn't privy to the revealing answers.

This year's judge told the parents: "I learned more about your families than you might think."


The judge seemed to get a chuckle out of something Aubrey was telling him.

This little guy was too young for 4-H. But the cowboy-booted, pint-sized cowboy entered his friend in the open class division. He was just as confident as the "big" kids about leading the calf into the ring.

The bucket calf show is not without drama. This calf decided she had been standing long enough. The rest of us could relate. We all wanted to lay down and take a breather during the heat and humidity of the fair.

But, then again, fighting the heat and humidity are worth it to see the 4-Hers learn, excel and come a step closer to becoming a responsible adult ... one bucket calf at a time.

Let Them Eat Cake!

Seeing a happy winner was the best part of my day at the Stafford County Fair on Wednesday.

The youngest of three sisters, Jena started hanging out at the fair long before she was old enough to actually enter the 4-H division. This year, she won the overall grand champion prize in the 4-H foods contest with her Tropical Chiffon Cake. Though she has raised a grand champion steer before, I think this was her first grand champion in cooking.

Jena lives across the county from us, so I don't see her very often. But it's a pleasure to watch someone stick with something from the time they are a little ponytailed 7-year-old entering no-bake cookies until they are a soon-to-be senior in high school able to make a perfect chiffon cake.

I personally think chiffon and angel food cakes are difficult to make. When Jill was in 4-H, we attempted an angel food cake one year. It was an unmitigated disaster. When Jill turned it upside down on a bottle to cool it, it wasn't long before the entire cake was on the kitchen counter.

No, that was not supposed to happen.

But Jena had not only the prize-winning chiffon cake, but a good-looking angel food cake and a pretty Bundt cake, too.

Bundt cakes we can do. However, I wish I had been interested in learning to bake an angel food cake back when my Grandma Neelly was alive.

I have always been interested in eating angel food cakes. That was my birthday cake of choice. And nobody could make an angel food cake like my Grandma.

I know I need to take my own advice. It's always easy to dish out advice ... not so fun to take it.

I'm always telling my 4-H foods project kids that they can't expect to bake perfect bread loaves or roll out a fault-free pie crust if they don't practice during the year. I learned that the hard way as a Pratt County 4-Her long ago. So, I know if I'd practice, I could probably learn to make a decent chiffon or angel food cake.

Not that we need to eat the attempts around here. And not that I could ever compete with Jena or the other Cloverleaf 4-H cooking kids.

Three of my Corn Valley 4-H foods and nutrition project kids also got champion ribbons for their cooking divisions. Matt earned a purple ribbon in the beginner's division with his nutritionally improved chocolate chip cookie recipe, a recipe he got from me at a cooking project meeting. His sister, Allison, earned her champion ribbon with a loaf of white yeast bread in the intermediate division. Brianna was champion in the advanced category with her apple pie.

And the other Corn Valley 4-H cooks got their share of blue ribbons, too. Seeing the 4-Hers excel and learn from the judges was definitely the highlight of the day.

Being in the unairconditioned exhibit building from 8 AM to 7:30 PM was not.

After I finished up the foods paperwork in mid-afternoon, I saw the 4-H photography superintendent needed some help. So I volunteered. Even though I've given up duties as the photography leader to someone who actually knows something, I still have a soft place in my heart for that project, too. I was our local leader for several years when it was one of Brent's favorite projects.

Though some entries are down at the Stafford County Fair, I think the photography project is alive and well.

I enjoy the 4-Hers. I enjoy seeing their work - whether it's food or photography. But I can't say that I enjoy the heat.

As I drove down Main Street at about 7:45 PM, I noticed the bank thermometer was still at 97 degrees.

Just imagine 100 degrees earlier in the day. Put a bevy of 4-Hers, parents and judges in a metal building. The TV weatherman said the heat index was 115 on Wednesday.

I believe it. And so did my body by the end of the day. I wasn't feeling so well by the time I pulled into the driveway here at home.

But I've recovered, and I'm ready to take in the beef show this morning. Randy helped with the hog show yesterday morning, and they lucked out with cooler temperatures after an overnight rain. I don't think we'll be as lucky today.

This afternoon, we'll see how Aubrey does with her bucket calf she got from us this winter.

And if you're in the mood for a chiffon cake, here is Jena's prize-winning cake recipe. Enjoy!

Tropical Chiffon Cake

2 1/4 cups sifted cake flour
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1/2 cup oil
3/4 cup egg yolk
1 tsp. grated lemon peel
3/4 cup orange juice
1 cup egg whites
1/2 tsp. cream of tartar
1 1/3 cups flaked coconut

Sift dry ingredients into bowl. Make well in center. Add in order: oil, egg yolks, lemon peel and orange juice. Beat until satin smooth. Beat egg whites with cream of tartar until stiff peaks form. Pour batter in thin stream over entire surface of egg whites. Fold in gently. Fold in coconut.

Bake in 10-inch tube pan at 325 degrees for 55 minutes. Let cool completely before removing from pan.

Jena didn't frost it for the fair, but it would be delicious with a light frosting glaze. I would make a thin frosting with butter, powdered sugar, orange juice and maybe a little lemon peel. After glazing, you could also decorate the top with toasted coconut. Yum!

Hot for 4-H

I will invest a little sweat equity in the 4-H program today. On second thought, make that a lot of sweat equity.

Today is the first day of the 2010 version of the Stafford County Fair. For much of the day, I’ll be in the 4-H building at the fairgrounds. I’ve lost track of exactly how many years I’ve been a foods superintendent for the fair in Stafford, but it has to be approaching 15 years. Today is another day of battling the heat in the un-airconditioned exhibit building and watching the frosting on unsuspecting cakes puddle around the bottom of the plate.

There will also be perceptible wilting experienced by the children and adults who come into the building to enter or help with 4-H displays today and throughout the rest of the week.

I was at the fairgrounds yesterday afternoon setting up the 4-H foods area. Let's put it this way. I won't be spending much time on my hair this morning because it won't matter one iota after being in that metal building for about 10 minutes. That is definitely where the sweat equity comes in.

So why do I – or the multitude of other volunteers – continue to show up year after year – some of us after our 4-Hers have left the nest?

For me, the answer is easy. And I suspect it’s the same for most people who volunteer at their county fair – whether it’s in Stafford, Cloud, Harper, Rice, Finney, Haskell or any other fair in Kansas. It’s because we believe in the 4-H program.

I have evidence of the 4-H programs’ power. I grew up as a Pratt County 4-Her. My husband continues to volunteer in Stafford County where he was a 4-Her longer ago than he likes to admit. He's still helping, too. This morning, he's helping one 4-H family haul their animals to the fairgrounds. Tomorrow, he'll help with the hog show.

I think 4-H helped shape us into the people we are today - people who care about and work for their community.

Both our children benefited from 4-H – with everything from project knowledge, leadership skills, goal setting and completion, record keeping and social networking long before there was anything like Facebook or Twitter. Our daughter’s career choice as a dietitian is directly related to her long-time participation in the 4-H foods and nutrition project. Our son’s choice as a college public relations major came – in part – because of tours he took while a delegate at the 4-H Global Conference in Kansas City.

I witnessed my children's growth from the time they were 7-year-old, first-year 4-Hers to the time they were confident, committed 4-H veterans.

This was Jill's very first year for foods judging. She looks a little scared by the whole process.

But by the time she was veteran 4-Her, she was teaching others, and she, too, was serving as a foods superintendent at the county fair.

It’s a busy world we live in today. There are definitely more options for families and kids than there were when I was a child – whether that’s playing MAYB ball during the summer or other activities. But I contend that 4-H gives kids – and their families – more benefits than any of those other activities.

I hope you’ll go to the county fair nearest you. See what your local 4-Hers have been up to.

I always get a little misty eyed as I watch a pony-tailed girl talk the judge’s ear off during bucket calf judging.


The same goes for watching a little boy’s exasperated face when his pig reaches the show ring and exuberantly celebrates its freedom from the hog barn by running around the ring – instead of the more sedate pace of other barrows in the class.

These are the mental scrapbook photos all 4-H parents have. And, yes, it’s those things that keep us working in buildings that hover at 100 degrees on hot July and August days. Because we believe kids today should have the same opportunity to grow that we did – or our kids did.

So thanks to all those extension agents, fair boards and volunteers who keep the 4-H program growing into its second century of impacting the lives of Kansas youth and their families.

Saddle Up

Our little town hosted its annual rodeo last weekend. It's been part of the fabric of our community for more than 50 years.

On rodeo weekend, it seems everyone finds their inner cowboy lurking somewhere deep inside. People who normally prefer ballcaps dust off their cowboy hats and mosey down to the rodeo arena. Nike tennis shoes get pushed aside for Justin boots. Adidas t-shirts are forsaken for Wrangler jeans and snap-button shirts.

Of course, we have our share of real cowboys and cowgirls. They look at home in their Stetsons and freshly-pressed Western shirts.

Some of the weekend cowboys look like they're trying a little too hard.

And then there are the littlest cowpokes. They eagerly watch for the parade of horses to begin.

The shiny purple chaps on this little darlin' were locked and loaded around the flanks of a lamb during the mutton bustin' for kids later in the evening. She didn't last long, even with her mom running frantically alongside to cushion the fall.


This little cowboy also had his time in the spotlight during his third attempt at mutton bustin' while his little cousin and the rest of us watched. His dad says his lil' cowpoke usually goes into the contest with a plan. When he was bucked off the first year, he scrambled for the fence and began climbing, just like he'd seen the "real" cowboys do on television.

This year, he planned to make the golden eight-second ride. But, alas, the lamb had other plans.

(Brent with his birthday "twin" and friend, Erica, at the Stafford Rodeo parade)

Our own cowboy also had a short ride on a calf at the Stafford Rodeo one year. With a crash to the ground and the wind knocked out of him, Brent's days as a rodeo cowboy were shortlived, which is just fine with his mother. I know most people love the rodeo's bullriding finale. I watch the event and cringe as the bucked-off cowboys roll away to avoid the hooves of 2,000-plus-pounds of beef pounding all around them. Saddling up on a bike for the rodeo parade is a much safer bet.

Jill also had a fleeting foray into the world of cowgirls. She came home from one Stafford Rodeo with a pink cowboy hat. (That's what happens when Dad and daughter go alone to the rodeo.) The hat didn't make it for the rodeo parade, but she did use the cowgirl outfit from her dance recital to add a little atmosphere to the bike ride. (And it's good that she got a little more mileage out of some of those expensive dance costumes!)



My sister, Lisa, went through a "horse" period in her 4-H career. Somehow, I think it was more about the outfit she got to wear during the county fair judging. This is about as close as I liked to get to Penny the Horse.


Even though I'm not a rodeo fanatic, I still like the atmosphere from a small-town rodeo. Back when we were kids, we used to visit our Sublette grandparents during the Haskell County Fair each summer. As I look back on it, my grandparents probably picked fair week so there were plenty of activities to entertain us.

But the rodeo was a centerpiece to the fair festivities. Now, when I go to a rodeo, I remember Grandma and Grandpa and the smell of popcorn, the majesty of the grand parade and the spectacle that rodeo brings.

It is an all-American extravaganza, isn't is?

And, as the rodeo announcer pointed out, it's one of the only sports that includes both patriotism and prayer as a prelude to the festivities.