A Real Alaskan Housewife

World Thinking Day  is coming up and my troop picked Greece as their country. Snack today was our turn, sooooo.... to tackle two birds in the hand, DD#2 and I decided to make pita bread. Of course, we made it last night in preparation of our troop meeting today. On one of my Pinterest boards, I had pinned a  pita bread  from the Brown Eyed Baker. What a perfect opportunity to test the recipe. Aaaaand (drumroll please) here is the result: This made 16 small pitas. Yes, three are missing. We needed to taste test. Close up of the inside. My thoughts- Taste is fab. Texture, chewy & firm. Sadly, no pocket.  Smitten Kitchen  recommends spritzing the dough discs prior to baking. Gonna have to try that next time. The girls enjoyed the bread with hummus and decided we needed to use them for Thinking Day. Hmmmm...I'll have to freeze some to see how they taste. Pita Bread Pin (I didn'a take any pictures of the process. I must admit, I was not planning to blog on

Cuzins playing in the front yard. (Was viewing my posts and discovered I never posted this one.  Summer of 2010 we had family visit. Here is one of the adventures we had.) After a tasty hotdog dinner, we went fishing at Fingerlake. Having learned from the Father's Day experience, I did not expect a whole lot from kids when it came to fishing. Sure enough, after we got the hooks baited and lines cast, DS and the boys were done. There was mud all around that needed to be dug up and played in. Getting no hits on the hook, Bob decided to cast DD#2's line a bit more to the left. We did not know the shore was part quicksand (quickmud?) Here is a picture of the result. Pictures of the kiddos and wildlife. We did not stay long. My allergies were kicking in and I was ready to go home, shower and change. Not sure if you can see in the pictures, but cottonwood seed was flying all about. So far the visit has been wonderful.

I visited my dad today at Fort Richardson National Cemetery. I know since he  has passed, I can talk to him anywhere. His memory stays with me. Sometimes though, I need the physical motion of visiting his grave site. The weather was cold, 16°F. The sun is out but has no warmth. Snow is on the ground. Yet I can hear birds singing-letting me know spring is not far away & there is a future no matter how I may feel at the moment.  With a fresh snowfall, I can see footprints to various headstones. As always, I took pictures of my Dad's view. The mountains are beautiful with the snow crowns. The green of the spruce trees are a stark contrast to the white mountains. I truely miss him. Sometimes the pain is not there. Other times, especially when going thru difficult times, all I can think about is wanting him here. I need his advice. I regret not listening more. I want him to watch his grandchildren grow. I miss him...