A Drop In the Bucket

We’ve been home for over a week now. I miss the kids and try to relive the feel of little hands, kisses and hugs and the smell of sweet baby skin. It was so good to feel welcome and the moments we had were precious and few, but here we are again.

It has remained bitterly cold. Our friend Afif was an enormous help because he cooked for us and made breakfast for Randy so I could sleep in...oh yeah, I always sleep in anyway and Randy makes his own breakfast. Actually, sometimes he makes me breakfast too. It was nice for Randy to have Afif here to make him breakfast.

The pups have been VERY attentive. They would come up on the back porch after their night patrols and Randyman would let them come in to visit with me. Randy would head to work but I have had kind of a rough month so it was hard to take them back out and put them in with the sheep, where they are supposed to spend the day. BTW, the jump-gate was an epic failure. The majority of the sheep don’t go through it, but the goat and lambs don’t even slow down.

I digress. The pups spent the greater part of the day with me a couple days last week. Bruno climbed up on the couch and did his best to discourage anyone, including Randy, from coming near me. Poor Cletus and Cider would have to sneak around him or wait until he relocated to get and give hugs.

I made some sourdough breads and got rave reviews for them. Afif left this morning for Nebraska, armed with sourdough starter and recipes for his new bakery. I guess I can’t garner any higher praise than that.

The really exciting news is that I finally get to wean Sushi. All EmmaLouMoo’s milk is MINE! ALL MINE!!! It’s actually a lot more milk than I can use, but I will find something to do with it all. I already got a gallon of buttermilk, yogurt and clabber cultured. I use the yogurt and buttermilk for baking and yogurt and clabber for making cheeses, so I am really happy to be back to milking again. She was a little stingy the first night, but by the second day she was giving me 3 gallons, milking once a day and she wasn’t getting engorged at all.

Yesterday was a pretty good day. I used 3 gallons of milk to make mozzarella so we could have homemade pizza. I was so proud of myself because I was so ORGANIZED. This is not something that is normally my method of operation so I was pretty tickled. Everything went perfectly and I actually had the kitchen clean by the time the cheese was done. I put it in the refrigerator to chill so I could shred it later.

Around milking time, Afif showed up and asked if I needed help. I have been depending on Randyman to carry the bucket and pull the wagon because I have not had enough arm or leg strength to do it myself, but I was feeling pretty good for the first time in a long while. I am not sure if it is a coincidence or if its because I took some Turmeric (an anti-inflammatory natural spice that tastes VILE  if you mix it in lemonade!) at the advice of my niece. It is interesting enough that I ordered some in gel caps because I really can’t stand the taste of it to drink it, and doubt that I can eat enough foods that I use it in to do myself much good. I told our friend I thought I would have no problem handling the milking equipment myself. After all, I have to get strong enough to do these things on my own again, because I can’t expect Randyman to always do his job AND mine.

I put the milker together, got my  hot water and rags to wash her udder with and headed across the melting ice and slush to the milk room. I was pretty taxed by the time I got there and had her all hooked up but at least I made it. I coaxed the evil Sushi, my snotty, anti social heifer, into the small area in front of the milk room with some grain. She entered while I was out of sight and I shut the gate behind her, essentially trapping her in the area. I had to chase her around and around before I could get my hands on her halter and drag her...or rather tire her out as she dragged me around, until she came to a halt, so I could rub and pet on her. I was pretty wore out, but I figured if I keep giving her grain and petting her she will sweeten up eventually.

I stepped back into the milkroom and sat down to check on the milker just as Emma started walking backwards. I noticed with horror, that I had forgotten to lock the headcatch. She continued backing out as I squeaked “NO! NO! NO! EMMMMMMAANOOOOOOOO!”

The vacuum hose got ripped off of the milker which was now swinging crazily underneath her udder as she kicked at it and began knocking over feed cans, saddle racks and everything else in the small space, including myself. She would start in a direction then suddenly back up into something, and half turn to go forward again, all the while my precious milk can swinging drunkenly from side to side. I felt like a HackeySack, being bumped and popped as I continually tried to undo the belt around her girth from which the milk can was hanging and twirling like pasties on a pole dancer. I finally succeeded and she stepped back once again, sending me over the stanchion bar and stepping squarely on top of the pulsator lid. Once I finally got control of her and got her back into place I put the kick bar behind her and finished milking out her rear quarters.

The can was so full of milk I could hardly lift it. My cup runneth over.

I apologized for the names I called her but continued to berate her for making my ‘therapy’ such an unpleasant experience. She slowly chewed her grain and stared at me blankly. I could see she felt really bad about it.

I managed to drag the milk wagon back to the house, struggling to lift the bucket up onto the deck for the short trip to the kitchen, and process the milk.

I grated the cheese, rolled out the pizza crusts and pulled some of the stuff out of the fridge for building them. I decided it was a good night for Randy and Afif to build their own pizzas.

We watched taped episodes of Duck Dynasty and as we laughed I decided there was actually something on TV I was willing to watch. Those guys are totally goofy, but they have good character, and I was mesmerized by how much Jase reminded me of my oldest son. His demeanor and way of speaking was almost like a flashback, minus the hair, beard, hat... The pizza was magnificent. I forgot how good our homemade pizza tastes. I’m pretty sure it was all about the cheese. Afif liked it too and had several pieces.

Randy and I made pigs of ourselves, like always.

This morning I woke up in extreme pain. Not only was my back killing me from the workout with EmmaLou, but the autoimmune flare was super active. I prayed I could get through the day. Back to using a cane and wrist braces again. I had been thinking about how difficult autoimmune diseases are and how they change a persons life, disposing of hopes and dreams like so much dust. I considered how many people suffer from similar maladies, as well as other kinds of pain, both physical and emotional. I felt convicted to share my own journey through this facet of my life, with others, so I have begun a new and separate blog, "Through The Darkest Valleys" if anyone should care to read. There is also a link on the right hand side of this blog.

If all goes according to plan, more bread and cinnamon rolls tomorrow.

Flying South

It was time for our annual trek to Southern Calif to see our loved ones. Trying to get all the critters set up, give directions on feeding and watering EmmaLou, Sushi, the sheep and Mister to our nephew and instruction on feeding Cider, Scottie, the Polarbears and chickens to our guest, pack all the stuff we were supposed to haul down and psych myself up for the long 13-14 hour drive and we were finally heading out. My monthly injection was a week late arriving because of the icy roads, which pretty much caused a flare and my body rebelled with determination. Any given day  could be relief, or agony. Sleeping in the truck sounded almost inviting this time.

After hooking up the iPod with an audiobook to entertain us, I dropped off to snooze for several hours until we hit the first town 3 hours away, Winnemucca, Nevada. We stopped for breakfast  were disappointed. Until recently, I was pretty sure no one could screw up a waffle.But a toaster waffle would have been a step up. With watered down syrup and a suspicious substance that didn’t even resemble butter, even Randyman had to admit it was money poorly spent. A box of Wheat Thins from a local store was gratefully purchased and consumed on the next leg of the trip.

Several more hours went past and as we were leaving behind Hawthorne, NV and I realized an unscheduled stop might not have been out of order. Normally we top off the fuel tank in Winnemucca and make the drive straight through to Lebec. I alerted Randyman that we probably better stop in Bishop, which was still a good 2-3 hours or more away. It wasn’t long before panic set in. I realized that Bishop was likely far too distant to serve my purpose. After encouraging Randyman to “drive FASTER!!!”, he promptly pulled off to the side of the road.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

I was informed that he needed to ‘check the tires’ himself. I was left fuming and agonizing in the passenger seat, wondering if there was any hope at all of making it to our destination intact. 

Ghost town after ghost town went by as I gritted my teeth and pondered the fact that there were actually a few people who lived there, but decided against knocking on any buildings that might collapse under the weight of my knuckles, possibly irritating a local citizen who may or may not have been easily type cast for the movie Deliverance.

We finally made it to the California border station. The Border guard lady tried to wave us through, but we refused to budge. Randy motioned to her to come out of her shack and asked if they had a restroom. She vehemently said “No. No, no, no. Not for the public.”

At this point I had no shame. I am fairly certain I was screeching when I asked her to “Well then at least point me out a tall bush, cuz I ain’t waiting!”

Finally, convinced of the urgency of the situation, she allowed me to enter the fiercely protected sanctuary of the State’s restroom...the Men’s Room, of course.

An hour from our destination, I attempted to text our daughter in law to let her know where we were at. Not being a ‘texter’ myself, my fingers clumsily typed out something like “mfgumph”. I desperately searched for a delete button and found out the one that says “send” was not it. Shortly after, we received a message back that said “HUH???” I figured she’d know we were there, when we got there. We made it just before they closed the road again due to snow.

We spent a happy night with some of our little people. One year old Kinley, however, wouldn't even let me look at her, without bursting into tears. She had no reservations about Randyman however. I mentioned a need to use the bathroom and Abby cut me off on the way to the door, as she had decided to give me the tour.

“This is MY bathroom. Okay, now listen...this is the deal. That (pointing at the commode) is the potty. Lift the lid first. This is toilet paper. Put the lid back down before pushing on the handle because it’s quieter that way. That is a bathtub. This is a sink. That is my toothbrush. Holler if you need me.”

I thanked her profusely and with my eyes floating, I closed the door.

The next day we sort of rested. At some point we made cinnamon rolls. We set them aside for 8 hours to rise the first time, then rolled and cut them and put them on the sink to rise overnight so we could bake and eat them the next morning. We watched Abby drive her little pink jeep and race her bicycle up and down the hill, beating Randyman soundly each lap.

The following morning, when the roads were open again, and we had already gorged ourselves on cinnamon rolls, we headed down to Palm Desert to visit with my folks. Dad is 92 this year. He still loves to tease and hasn’t lost his zest for living. I suddenly remembered the soap he’d asked for was still sitting on the dining room table in Oregon. It was the first of many things I would realize I had forgotten. We had a great visit and drove the 4 hours back to my youngest son’s house. After a 13 hour drive two days before, the 8 hour drive seemed like nothing.

The next day, our daughter in law went to work leaving us to enjoy time with Abby and Kinley. Things went swimmingly and Abby insisted she would change Kinley’s diapers whenever it became necessary. She did too. In fact, she did an amazing job of it until the last time, when she shook her out of her pants, undid her onesy, unhooked the diaper and jumped back with her hands in the air.

“POOP!!! This one is FOR YOU Grammy!”

I guess she’s a girl who knows her limits. If I couldn't be popular, I could at least be useful.
I was doubly impressed with Abby because she even rolled up the cuffs on Kinley's little jeans to put on her shoes and socks and had total cooperation from her little sister.

My son made it home in the wee hours of the morning on Monday. He had a new work truck to prepare so he and Randy spent most of their time outside while I stayed in with the girls. Kinley still wouldn’t let me hold her, but she wasn’t at all shy about climbing up in Randyman’s lap, with her ‘mellie’ her blanket, and her thumb, to settle in for a nap.

That night I heard loud crying. Both of their parents were exhausted from working and lack of sleep. I thought it might be Abby crying, so I snuk into her room to console her before she woke up her folks. Abby was sound asleep. Kinley, however, was standing in her crib wailing pitifully. I started to back out of the room, then realized she couldn’t see me in the dark. So I picked her up and carried her to the chair in the front room. Wrapped in her blankie she snuffled and catnapped, awakened occasionally by a bellyache which eventually seemed to find its end in a diaper. I rocked her from 1 am to 5 am, figuring I could make up some Grammy time that way. Her Mama came out around 5 in the morning, ready to leave for work. It was still dark and Kinley was sleeping. Krystal whispered to me. Mind you, I am more than 1/2 way deaf. I could not only NOT hear her, but I couldn’t see her lips to aid me in what she was trying to say. After several attempts I assumed I knew what she was saying and she headed off to work. All went well and that night we met more friends and family for dinner.

We had a lot of fun at dinner with everyone, and saw 3 more of the grandkids. We laughed and told stories and tried our very best to get everyone to eat some pickled tongue, which is surprisingly delicious. My daughter in law was pretty much the only hold out. We finally shamed her into taking a nearly microscopic bite, which stuck to the roof of her mouth. I figured it was the cow’s revenge.

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera. We went to have ice cream and ALL the kids gave me a taste of theirs. I am the MOST privileged of Grammies. They spent about 30 minutes chasing each other around an outdoor fountain while we watched and shivered. Darn I miss having that kind of energy! We gave them a jar of sourdough with all the directions of how to make stuff with it. Food seems to be a constant theme with me, for some reason.

Next day we headed to Randyman’s side of the family and had a great time there. One of our daughters was there along with her young son and her twins. Kloe, one of the twins decided I was hers to command and I spent the day taking orders from her. At one point she demanded I sit in a back room near one of her toys. I painstakingly lowered myself to the floor, then she promptly left me there. I had flashbacks of the misdeeds of my brother Steve. It took about 10 minutes before I was able to crawl to something to pull myself up on. 

We all ate and had a good time with his daughter, mom, dad and sister who sent us off with a young Border Collie for our nephew who is a cowboy at the ranch. This dog turned out to be very friendly, and assumed he should ride on the center console all the way from Bakersfield to Reno, where we visited with my brother and sister in law.

The morning we left we stopped on the way and had breakfast with our other daughter who we were unable to pin down on a visiting date because her little person is due in July. That will make 13 little people, although we didn’t get to see all of them.

Randy's mom had sent us on our way with a bag of cookies. When we got back in the truck after breakfast, I found the cookie back with a tiny hole in it and 1/2 of each cookie was missing. I guess the dog figured if he used this method, no one would notice, but I did and promptly ate the rest of the cookies.

Our night in Reno was a blessing, the evening was spent with my brother and sister in law, (whom I idolized since I was 13 and finally had to tell her, because she is beautiful, soft spoken and wise...one of those people who always encourages and never seems to notice the dark side of people) My niece’s husband was there with their son, although she was at work in Las Vegas, so we missed seeing her.  This young boy is accomplished in martial arts and is extremely capable with firearms. He garners good grades in school and is pretty much another example of a model kid. Our family seems to produce a lot of those, even if it skipped my generation. We didn’t see much of him because his friend was visiting too and they entertained themselves elsewhere. There was snow and ice everywhere and the train trestle that paralleled the road looked awesome.

Next day we headed home after wrestling my brother for the dog. He wanted to keep him, as he got very attached to him overnight, but I figured we would be in a heap of trouble if we didn’t get him to the ranch. I even got an email the next day that ended with "Love you both, take care of my dog that Randy took out of my garage". That's one of the reasons I love him so much is because he always makes me laugh.

We followed him to the Reno Costco so we could replenish supplies as we won't be near a store for several more weeks.

We arrived home in time to say goodbye to the ranch family who was headed down to Disneyland, not far from where we had just returned. We woke up our friend who helped carry the coolers full of our purchases into the house where we found the contents had frozen. It's been a cold winter thus far and I sure hope I burn off some calories shivering because Cinnamon Rolls and Hot Chocolate have pretty much taken over my life.

I already miss all the little people and our family and friends, but the Maremmas were overjoyed to see me, making little yelps of joy as they ran down the fence to the gate. You can always count on a good dog to make you feel indispensable. Next on the list will be weaning Sushi from EmmaLouMoo so I will be able to get back to making milk products and cheese and THAT is something I am looking forward to.

As to the little people, pictures, memories and love will have to suffice. I am grateful for the wonderful parents our kids have become and look forward to when they come visit us here on the ranch, where we can actually spend time with them, as they won't have to drive to new places everyday to try and fit everyone in! We wait for those visits, with full and happy hearts. God is good.

Cold Feet and Warm Rolls

Winter gained momentum after Christmas. The temperatures here dropped, frequently falling below 0 at night and rarely rising above the teens by day. It snowed several times, leaving a good crunchy base below our feet and tires. There are heaters in every trough, making sure the animals will drink plenty of water, as they don't like to drink much when its cold and icy water is not so refreshing in the wintertime. 

The wildlife is having a hard winter. The birds can find nothing to eat and daily, the local quail, mourning doves and crows hover over EmmaLou's corral hoping to pick thru droppings seeking undigested grains. 

Coyotes, cougars and bobcats are stealthily roaming the ranch. The Maremmas are staying busy at night, patrolling and running packs off from kills, discouraging them from coming any closer. The sheep remain locked in a small pasture where the pups spend daylight hours and some nights, with them. They'll have to be in there 24/7 the week we are gone, which will be in just a few days.

Bruno remains alert, keeping the crows out of the pasture where the lambs are, as they are known to cause injury to them when there is nothing else for them to scavenge.

Notice that "Salty" sticks her tongue out in a 'neener neener' as she remains tucked safely behind her guardians.

All the cows and horses have to be hay fed as there is no forage at all to be found right now.

Luckily, Wimpy shares my metabolism and loses no weight, regardless of how little he might consume.

Normally, our little rock house stays pretty cozy with the small gas stove that heats it. This past couple of weeks however, even with the heater running 24/7, the oven on with the door open and the small heaters on in the bathrooms, we were unable to get the indoor temperature above 55 degrees. One day it stayed as low as 48. Today is much warmer and it is up to 61. Long johns are a nice thing to have and there are periods during the day I will even don cotton gloves to keep my hands from hurting too much and a light down comforter remains on the couch to snuggle under during breaks from whatever I may be doing.

I think of how much more difficult it was for the pioneer women and for the first inhabitants of the ranch, with no indoor plumbing. They had wood heat which was probably sufficient, but there is not a lot of wood here on the desert. I have great respect for the women who lived here then, who also only got supplies for food and clothing once a year, after sending someone with a buckboard on the two week long wagon trip to Winnemucca.

We got a little better taste of what that might be like, when the pipes froze for 4 days and we had no water in the bathrooms. Luckily, it did run in the kitchen so I could wash dishes. Still, I'd rather face these challenges than live in the city. There are benefits to attend the hardships here.  

Even with the below freezing temperatures, the winter sun shines from time to time and melts just a little snow, creating awesome yet treacherous, icicles on some of the old rock houses. One such day, there were rays of sunlight and a light snow falling from the clouds around it. It was so cold the snowflakes came down in tiny crystals, reflecting the light and resembling glitter falling all over the world surrounding us. It was truly breathtaking.

The beauty of ice laden trees around the ranch headquarters

EmmaLouMoo ventures out of her 'cave' for a peek

Another benefit of our battle against the elements is that baking warms up the house a bit.

Lately I have been making a lot of cinnamon rolls because I finally found the PERFECT Sourdough Cinnamon Roll recipe. It’s a no yeast recipe that is so easy it almost makes me suspect the “Awesome flavor fairies” must come and do something magic to it. There is nothing quite as wonderful as a hot, homemade sourdough cinnamon roll with cream cheese frosting oozing all over it, unless of course, you have gooey, warm caramel pecan rolls. It’s really a toss up. So Randyman decided he wanted both.

Because it is hard for me to get up mornings as a result of it also being hard to sleep at night, my man is kind enough to go out in the incredibly cold temperatures, (the other morning it was 1...yes that is ONE degree, fahrenheit) to slip and slide over the ice and snow and feed all of my critters for me. EmmaLou and SushiMoo, Mister, the sheeples and the chickenhearteds. He also lets the polar-bears in to keep me company if they happen to be back from night patrol. They look forward to the visits as much as I do. Often times, after doing this kind and thoughtful service for me, he will even make coffee, which he does not drink, as well as make breakfast from time to time, before starting his long, cold day of work outside on the ranch. How could I possibly refuse him two kinds of breakfast rolls? I would have to be a truly heartless fiend. I think I did originally tell him it wasn’t possible but that is because I was still experiencing my ‘morning fog’ and hadn’t realized I only had to split it in half and make them in 2 pie plates instead of the big 9x13 casserole dish.

So that is what I do.

To begin with, for the very first time I took my regular sourdough starter and made it into a ‘Herman’ starter. This is done by taking 2 cups of starter and instead of feeding with flour and water, instead give it 1/2 cup each of flour, sugar and milk. Feed it twice (8 hours apart) the day before using.

My new friend, Herman

Here is the recipe I got online, but I cannot remember the source. My bad. I do so much web surfing and cut and paste things that look interesting and I get lost on where they came from. As long as I don’t lose the recipe, I am happy.

So, into the kitchen aid goes:

STEP 1-DOUGH

2 cups of Herman starter

3 cups flour (I haven’t tried this with my fresh milled flour yet)

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 Tbl baking powder

2 eggs, beaten

Mix it all in bowl and if hand kneading, knead 5-7 minutes. In the Kitchen Aid it only takes a couple minutes, and I turn it out on a pastry cloth to give it a couple turns by hand to feel it and make sure it feels nice and smooth. You can almost feel what a happy dough this is.

I put it in a well oiled bowl, cover with a well wrung out towel that was dampened with warm water. It will take HOURS for this to rise in a warm place, such as near the heater, inside the oven with a bowl of hot water underneat, or on a heating pad. (I would only use the latter during the day when it can be watched. I'm not a big fan of electric blankets or heating pads as I have known them to short out in the past. If you have one of the new seed starting mats, that might be a safer option) There is no yeast in this bread and sourdough always takes a long time to rise. If you put this together in the evening you could let it rise overnight in a warm place.Just know you won’t have it for breakfast that day, it's a slow process, but worth the time. I usually do this in the morning and let it rise most of the day then go to step #2:

STEP2-INNARDS for cinnamon rolls

1 cup white sugar

1 Tbl ground cinnamon

 Mix together in a small bowl

After dough has doubled in size, dump it back out on the floured pastry cloth and pat or roll it out to about a 10x20 inch rectangle. For the Caramel Pecan Rolls, I skip the sugar/cinnamon step and just skip to the rolling up and cutting part.

For cinnamon rolls:

I take softened butter and rub it all over the top of the dough rectangle.You can melt it and paint it on with a pastry brush if you want. I just use my hand.

Next take the cinnamon sugar mixture and sprinkle it liberally all over the dough.

Roll the dough up longways. Try and make it as tight as possible, by sort of lifting the dough as you roll and letting the weight of it work for you.

After the dough has been rolled up, I cut it into 1" rolls. Randyman loves these so much and wants them so often, he made me a ‘roll cutter’. This is a very complicated piece of equipment made with dental floss and a lollipop stick. Break the stick in half and tie each end of a long piece of floss onto each half. Now you can just lay the roll on top of the floss, cross your ends and ta dah! Perfectly cut, unsmushed, raw cinnamon roll. Fabulous. I’d get very excited at his invention, but surely someone else will beat us to the patent.

If you are making a whole pan of cinnamon rolls, put these in a 9x13 casserole dish with space between them and cover them, set in a warm place and let them rise. They tend to rise quicker the second time, but it still takes longer than conventional dough. It’s worth the wait though. They will swell up and fill in the gaps as well as gain height.

Usually, it is just Randyman and myself, so I will, instead, put half the rolls in a glass pie plate and the others I quickly freeze on a baking sheet then put them in a ziplock bag for another day.

FOR CARAMEL PECAN ROLLS:

Before cutting your rolls, butter a 9x13 casserole, or if you are baking 1/2 the rolls, I butter a glass pie plate instead. Cover the bottom of your baking dish with chopped pecans.

Now cut and set your rolls in the dish with space between them so they have room to swell and rise and fill in the gaps. They should be touching by the time they are ready to bake. 

The next step is to take a box of Cook N Serve butterscotch pudding and sprinkle the dry mix over the rolls. (This recipe is from ‘Overnight Bubble Bread’ on the AR Website.)

Next, take equal amounts of butter and brown sugar and melt in saucepan until smooth. Bring mixture just to boiling then pour over the rolls. 

Cover with plastic wrap and let these sit and rise overnight.

When rolls are done rising and are ready to bake, place them in a preheated 325 degree oven for 20-25 minutes, until lightly browned.

For the Caramel Pecan Rolls, find a plate or a baking sheet, place over the top of your baking pan and invert them so the ooey, gooey pecan/caramel mix is on the top of your rolls. Caution while scooping the reticent bits with your finger...it is hot and will burn both your finger AND your tongue. I will not explain in detail how I know this.

If you made Cinnamon Rolls, hopefully you had the foresight to soften a brick of cream cheese, or if you are fortunate like me and have your own Jersey cow in milk, it will be a portion of homemade cream cheese.

For a whole pan of rolls I use:

1 brick cream cheese

2 cups powdered sugar (confectioner’s sugar)

1 1/2 Tbl heavy cream

1 tsp vanilla (again, homemade is the best)

Beat until well mixed and fluffy then liberally slather it all over your warm cinnamon rolls.

Do NOT let anyone take pictures of you while eating your first roll, as you will look like a zombie with your eyes rolled back in your head. The gooey goodness of these rolls is a heavenly experience.

Our good friend the chef (there is no term to describe his amazing culinary skill, words truly do fall short) is opening a bakery far from here in one of the cold, cold states. He asked me to give him the recipe for these rolls and is taking some starter back with him when he goes home next month. I figured that was a pretty good recommendation for the rolls and I am sharing the recipe with you first. I wish I could remember where I got it, because whoever wrote the original deserves kudos. Oh well. If they should run across this blog, Bless you, whoever you are! You have made the world a better place.

Sourdough Cinnamon Rolls

Ingredients:

  ● 2 cups Herman Sourdough Starter

  ● 3 cups all-purpose flour

  ● 1/2 tsp. baking soda

  ● 1/2 tsp. salt

  ● 3 tsp. baking powder

  ● 2 eggs, beaten 

  ● 1/2 cup margarine

  ● 1 cup white sugar

  ● 3 tsp. ground cinnamon

1. In a large bowl combine Herman Sweet Sourdough Starter, flour, baking soda, salt, baking powder and eggs until well blended.

 2. Knead dough in bowl for 5 to 7 minutes, or until mixture is smooth.

 3. Let rise in warm place until doubled. (CAN TAKE SEVERAL HOURS)

Punch down. On a lightly floured surface, press dough into a 10 x 20 inch rectangle. Combine melted margarine, sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl. Spread mixture over dough. Sprinkle with walnuts or raisins, if desired.

 4. Starting on long side, roll up dough, jellyroll fashion. Press ends together to make a seam. Cut in 1-inch slices with a piece of dental floss and place in an ungreased baking dish. 

Allow rolls rise to double their size. This can be overnight.

 5. Bake in a preheated 325 F oven for 20 to 25 minutes, until lightly browned.