Love is Success, Success is Love

I appreciate Grant Cardone because so much of what he wrote in The 10X Rule applies to success in the most important thing of all: family. “Pretend,” he writes, “you’re being recorded as a model by which your children and grandchildren will learn how to succeed in life.”

If you’ve read this blog for very long, you know I define success a little differently than most people–something like, “Success is being free from the approval of others, from the tyranny of selfishness. Success is being a homemaker.” It can also be being a butcher, baker, or candlestick maker, as long as in that role we are also the one who doesn’t pass by on the other side when we see the opportunity to give, the opportunity to sacrifice.

(I must pause here to say you don’t impress God when all your giving is done outside your family, and all you have left for them is impatience and unkindness. And judgment.)

Back to sacrifice–WE ARE MADE FOR IT! What story is better than that of the Good Samaritan who “took pity” on the half dead man? I’ll tell you one that is as good, but first a word about the Good Samaritan. He was on his way to somewhere and it was not in his plan, on his calendar, or convenient for him to stop. He was likely a man of affairs and means, as evidenced by his leaving the man at the inn, promising to be back, and promising to pay any and all costs. The innkeeper trusted him and I think that was because people who take the time to help others at great inconvenience to themselves–people who sacrifice–are trusted.

Now for another good story: Once upon a time there were scores and scores of women who “took pity” on their husbands and children, and cared for them, without access to success gurus, social media, nannies, new SUVs or throw-away diapers. They had to lean on the Helper, the One Who (if we will let Him) sticks closer than a brother.

In making such sacrifices they raised children also willing to sacrifice. They were rich inside.

We are created in the image of the God of Sacrifice, and apart from a life of sacrifice, we cannot ever be whole.

This is not a call to return to the “good old days” of twelve diapers and no washing machine, or of no central heating and running water, or having nowhere to go if married to a brute. In America, because of the sacrifices of those who came before us, we live in such a lovely world as regarding physical conveniences and social supports, but not one so lovely when it comes to sacrifice.

It’s time to not only be willing to sacrifice and give, but to be on the lookout for opportunities for doing so. And if you have the immeasurable privilege of having people living in your own house for whom you can sacrfice, it’s time to give thanks, not complaints. Just remember this when the doubts and self-pity come in like a flood: your reward is guaranteed, even if not immediately seen.

If you don’t believe me, read the New Testament. If you don’t believe that, you’re doomed–to the misery of a life without sacrifice.

Pentecost, and all Things Richly to Enjoy

 

creek 2

Taking a walk in the cool not-quite-summer breezes the other morning an old question popped into my mind:  Which of the senses would you miss the most, were you to lose it?

Loss of sight would mean no more color, no more iridescent, translucent, sparkling, proof-of- God color.  No more looking into the eyes of my beloveds, no more laughing at a child’s guileless smile.

Not good.

Loss of smell would mean I couldn’t smell this sage I’m crushing in my fingers and thereby being lifted, transported.  Same for the juniper, pine, spruce, fir and cedar on the heavenly breeze.

Loss of smell would mean roast beef and vegetables and gravy and hot buttered homemade bread would be irrelevant.  Also not good.

Loss of smell would mean I wouldn’t notice the clove on John’s breath when he kissed me.

A kiss.  A touch.  Not being able to feel the kissing face, or hugged neck, or the touch of a hand of another of God’s children.

marmot

Hearing.  A marmot is sounding the alarm because the dogs are busy sniffing out his rock pile, and the spring snowmelt has made the creek practically roar as it rushes out of its banks, but not above my favorite creekside blessing rock.

And I couldn’t hear His praises sung from the depths of the hearts of His children in church this morning, on Pentecost Sunday.  This thought makes me catch my breath from the sudden glitch of alarm, the actual physical ache, in my spirit.  But, on this day of all days, I am choosing not to think about “what ifs” and possible losses.  I am thinking of my utter inability to even begin to grasp the magnitude of the Love of God.  This is the sense I want to exercise, increase, develop.  This is the realm into which I want to delve more deeply.  More richly.

He has given us all things richly to enjoy.  I call the dogs off and they happily dash off to the next thrill, all senses alert.  He has given us all things richly to enjoy.  This thought again wafts into my mind and I think of how all the senses will be alive and blessing me at once if I simply take this walk with a loved one, sit by the creek eating roast beef on homemade bread with also homemade mayo, and watch steam swirl up out of a thermos of tea as we sip and smile at each other.  And as we see on each others’ faces peace.  How beautiful, how marvelous.  Oh, Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your Name in all the earth.

In all the earth.  He has given us so much to enjoy.  Let us not, in pursuits of manmade enjoyments and entertainments, forgo, forget, become blind to, the wonderful world He has made.  In all of our seeking, with all of our senses, let us tune into Him.  Let us daily live a life of Pentecost.  Amen.

 

 

 

 

“Well, who do you think is pretty?”

mannequin2

When my daughter Jane was ten and carrying on about the latest Hollywood sensations, John pulled a face at her taste.  “Well, who do you think is pretty?” she demanded.

“You.  Your mother.  My mother, my granny, my sister,” he replied.  Out of all the brilliant things John has said, that was one of the most brilliant.

That was years ago, but this morning I awoke thinking about how our society makes heroes out of quite and very unheroic women, at least as compared to those near and dear to me.  What, I wondered, would I say to anyone asking me, not who was pretty, but who was beautiful, heroic, worthy of praise and emulation in my life?

“My mother, my grandmother, my mother-in-law, my sisters-in-law, my friends, my daughters, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters.”

I remember my dad talking about my grandmother chasing a poisonous snake who was trying to escape under their house.  “You’ll not get near these children,” she shouted as she brought a garden hoe down on it, severing it’s head.  When I was little she used to put The Happy Goodmans on to play for me.  She deftly peeled what may have been the world’s best tomatoes (grown in her weedless garden) with her ever sharp paring knife, sliced them into thick, fat, juicy slices and served them to me with salt.   One day, I vowed, I would do that for someone.

tomatoes

But how would I ever emulate my momI’ll never be as strong as she is was my silent concern.  She never stopped moving except maybe once on “slow” days for a cup of coffee and a Lucky Strike.  She was up before us to put a fantastic breakfast (a platter full of meat, eggs, biscuits, gravy) on the table, to starch our jeans, and then off (for the second time) to her many-thousand chickens.  She was up waiting when I got home from basketball games (once it was 2:00 a.m. and there she stood, leaning on the kitchen counter for support, smoking her Lucky Strike).  She didn’t say “I love you” she did love.

coffee

And then there’s my mother-in-law who taught my manly man husband to cook, can, sew, clean, iron, and to always be clean, neat, and presentable.  So when our youngest, Seth, was born, John brought the older three to the hospital looking like little dolls.  The nurses went on about it.  “Who dressed those kids?” one asked.  I was bewildered.  Who do you think? 

“John did,” I told her.  “Well, I never!” she said.  “Just look at them.  All spit and polish!”  And so I looked.  Their clothes were ironed, Benjamin’s hair parted perfectly, the girls’ hair curled, their eyes shining.  In other words, looking like kids should look when they’re coming to see their new sibling and their mother.  Did other dads bring the kids to see mom looking any other way?  Evidently.  Talk about dumb as a post.

And who was to thank for that?  My mother-in-law.  Well, and John being smarter than a post.

And then there are my sisters-in-law (brothers’ wives) who stayed with my brothers through thick and thin, who are excellent mothers, citizens, and friends.  As for John’s sister, even when her life was falling COMPLETELY apart, she was fun, kind, and positive.  How many women “leaders” can say that?  These sisters of mine!  All of them are absolutely indispensable to the welfare of all of us blessed by their presences in our lives.  I really could never say enough about any of them.

I won’t even start with my friends, except to say that my dad was right when he said to me years ago, “Bev, you’ve always had truly good friends.”  Indeed I have.  They have filled gaps, dried tears, inspired, listened, commiserated, advised, and loved me through some pretty dark days.  Real women, that’s what they are.

And then there are my daughters, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters.  Let me just say right here that there aren’t a handful of movie stars in history as lovely as these young women, as brilliant, funny, kind, or true.

I’ve said all this to say that we might stop taking note of celebrities who we’ll most likely never even meet, and start celebrating those women near and dear.

little girl praying

 

 

The Stupid Question: What About Socialization?

child in hat and glasses

“Precisely.”

That’s what to say when you’re asked this most aggravating and ignorant of questions about why your child isn’t being institutionalized.

“But aren’t you concerned about socialization?”

“Yes.  That’s one of the reasons we homeschool.”

Total confusion on their part.

Patient sigh on yours.

“First of all, we aren’t socialists.  We don’t believe the state knows best.  We don’t believe the state owns us or our children.”

“Secondly, we don’t think hanging out all day long (mostly sitting) with ignorant little kids who look, talk, dress, and are in more ways than not, exactly alike, is proper socialization. ”

“In fact, we think it’s extremely unnatural, unhealthy, and stifling.”

Oh, and we’re too nice to say so, but it’s your kids and grandkids (it’s mostly old fools who come after us on this)  who won’t look us in the eyes when we attempt to converse with them, who mutter or don’t answer at all, who display an alarming dearth of original thought and logic if they do venture an opinion, not our poor little homeschooled “hicks.”

We have always gotten compliments on our kids – on their ability to converse with people of all ages, backgrounds, religions, cultures, and races; on their friendliness, kindness, respect, and their obvious enjoyment of life and each other.

Seth and RebekahBenjamin and Hannahall four kids

Yes, you can search and find kids like ours, and they may even be kids who are public-schooled.  Don’t know, haven’t seen that very much.  But why go to the trouble?  Why not just homeschool?

Yes, your kids will miss out if you homeschool.  They’ll miss out on being bullied or becoming bullies, on easy access to drugs, sex, alcohol and porn.  They won’t learn about being one of the “in crowd” or being “cool” and “popular.”  In short, they won’t be social monstrosities, with mountain-tall egos, or “nerds” who hate school.  And if you have even the smallest of success, you will raise individuals who miss out on becoming followers.

You, too, will miss out if you homeschool your children.  You’ll miss them turning into hellions during their teen years.  You’ll miss them losing respect for you and your beliefs, and you’ll miss becoming an embarrassment to their social little arses.

If you homeschool, you’ll miss out on being politically correct and socially acceptable.  And yes, you’ll have to deal with the stupid question.  I’ve given you a few answers, and here are a couple more:  “Who and what successes qualify you to judge me?”, and, “So, what hole do you live in (speaking of socialization) so that you don’t know the abysmal failure public education in America has been proven to be, no matter how you measure it.”

Well, maybe I shouldn’t say “no matter how you measure it.”  Because if your goal is turning out good little robots who lose their sense of personal worth, individual creative prowess, and dare I say, common sense and kindness, then maybe public school is a roaring success.

Go ahead, in the name of socialization, steal your child’s childhood.  Take away his time to play, invent, create, read, read, read, commune with God and nature, and grow into the person God intended, so that he can change the world.

little girl with flower

Look around you.  Do we need even one more just-like-everybody-else person?  Your child is unique in all the world, in all the history of the world.  It will take a huge and concerted effort to make her just like everyone else – socialized.  In fact, you can’t do it alone.  You’ll need all the help you can get to stamp out all that originality and wonder.  Hooray, there’s public education in America!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Real Men

grandpa pic

I nominate my dad for sweetest and handsomest dad and my kids nominate him for best grandpa ever.

If I had to describe my dad in one word it would be “kind.”

I said to my kids (not telling them my word), “I want you to tell me the first word that comes to your mind to describe your grandpa.”

“Stalwart,” Rebekah answered.

“Kind,” said Seth.  “That’s the first word I thought,” Hannah agreed.

I think those two words are what every dad and grandpa should be:  kind and stalwart. 

And if he has giant dimples and an ever-present grin, well that’s just gravy.

Family First?

IMG_7192_p

Or last?

One of the many beauties of home education is that family comes first, naturally.  The fruits of that, provided grace is in place, are unlimited, and this was brought home to me recently when I read an article about eliminating negative people (especially those who hinder living in faith and love) from our lives.

I respect the author of this article, and gave serious thought to her words.  Was I not eliminating such people out of fear of conflict, or perhaps because I’m too nice?  Were they truly a hindrance?  There was no question that these people are difficult and tiring, but were they really a problem?  A spiritual roadblock?

No.  And here’s why:  My family keeps me strong, on track.  We pray with and for each other, and with and for others, every single day.  When I am brought down by someone or something and make my fall evident with frustration and negativity, someone in my family will do as I’ve asked them to do:  Don’t let me get away with it!

We learned from Pastor Keith Moore’s example to say, in response to negativity (anything contrary to scripture), “If you say so.”

Aaaargh!  It makes us wanna box someone’s ears (I’ve been reading too much Georgette Heyer, if there’s any such thing as too much Georgette Heyer ).  But, instead, we take deep breaths, roll our eyes, wrinkle our noses as though at a very unpleasant odor, and change our words.

Example:

Me: I’m sick to death of his crap and I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”

Brat Child of Mine with Snarky Grin:  “If you say so.”

Me:  Really deep breath, mutterings, stomps, yeah-buts, etc.  Another deep breath.  “I am taking his nonsense as an unconscious cry for help, and I’m not giving him a piece of my mind because obviously I can’t spare it, and I’m going to stop and pray for him right now.  Will you, dearest child, agree with me in prayer?”

I just strengthened myself, lightened the load of the child who has to listen to MY crap, and prayed myself right out of Satan’s way of thinking and doing, and changed things for the person I prayed for.  Rather than a piece of my mind, he got a piece of God’s love.  Amen!

 

Early Morning Rain, Jesus, Testosterone, Good Books, Babies, and so Forth

DSC_7636

I cut and pasted these from my 2009 Facebook “25 Things” because it made me happy to read, and because I think it will be fun to add to it.

1. I love quiet time with Jesus early, early in the morning, and a nap in the afternoon.
2. I love putting in a load of laundry at 4:00 a.m. before I build a fire, make a cuppa or indulge in my latest new coffee, and settle in for quiet time.
3. I love being a member of the revolution Jesus started 2000 years ago.
4. I love rain. And more rain. Long, grey, dreary rainstorms.
5. With good books, like five or ten, fiction and non-fiction.
6. And a journal with colored pens, and a legal pad for absolutely mindless scribbling.
7. I love sending letters on nice stationery with lots of stickers and a pretty stamp.
8. I love watching my kids out the window on their sleds.
9. I love it when they wipe out and shriek with laughter, only to be pounced on by the dog, and get up and do it again!
10. I love John.
11. I love men who are so manly the testosterone drips off them, but they wear pink proudly, and are really good at comforting babies and changing diapers (John).
12. I love men who sing country love songs and hold my hand and sound like Vince Gill (yes, you guessed it – John).
13. I love men who love like Jesus – John, and also my dad.
14. I love my friends and all my family, especially all those little babies I have never seen.
15. I love big hardwood trees in the fall.
16. I love Fall.
17. I love God’s new mercies every morning.
18. I love color, lots of clear, bright color, or soft, muted colors. And light – iridescent, translucent, luminous, shimmering light.
19. Like on water. I love water, especially the Pacific ocean, but any water will do. I even love mud puddles.

file000693141413
20. I love to travel. Even if it’s just a new dirt road close to home.
21. I love conversations with friends.
22. I love home schooling, and all my great teachers – my children.  And talking about home schooling with other home schoolers.
23. I love studying my kids, discovering them, marveling at God’s genius in creating them.
24. I love marriage. And chocolate.
25. I love whipping the devil’s butt when he tries to make me afraid. I love Jesus.

April, 2015 – And smiling teenagers teaching themselves without any Mom-prodding.

IMG_3704

Café Home

 

There is so much more to cooking than following a recipe.  Cooking is about people – what they like, love, and need.  And cooking, like many things, is best done at home by someone who loves those for whom she or he cooks.  Becoming adept in the kitchen is a key to quality living for large families, couples, and for those who live alone.

This is true for trained chefs and for people who loathe the very sight of a kitchen.  Think of it this way:  Just because you live in New York is not to say you need never learn to drive a car.  The ability to drive a car is a handy skill.  Just because you don’t particularly enjoy doing laundry is no excuse for taking everything to the cleaners.  Knowing how to pull and turn a few knobs and separate the whites from the colors is a basic life skill.  Just so being able to feed yourself.

Being unable to scramble eggs, make biscuits from scratch, or whip up a mean spaghetti sauce is just plain dumb.  The idea that it’s fine to go around practically bragging about not cooking is childish.  Not being able to cook is only fine if you are a child.  Let’s all do our friends, parents, kids and their spouses, and our grandkids a great favor:  let’s lead by example and cook!

It doesn’t matter who you are, the time will come when you need to cook.  My mother-in-law, bless her forever and ever, taught my husband to cook, clean, can, and that no job was beneath him.  So, when our last child was born Cesarean and I was a bit under the weather – no sweat.  From the time John brought the older three to the hospital looking ready for portraits, until I no longer needed his help, he took care of things – including the cooking.  When the hospital nurses remarked on the kids’ neatly parted hair, clean fingernails and starched little Levis, I was at a loss.  Did other dads actually drag dirty, unkempt kids to the hospital to see their mother and new sibling?  Apparently so.

At our house it works best for me to be the Kitchen Master.  Because of my proficiency, it’s easier to do most of the cooking myself.  But easier is not always better.  I need breaks, John enjoys weekend cooking, and cooking with the kids (especially if the grill and beef are involved), and the kids need to learn to cook.

So, you’ve taken the first step.  You’re convinced (or almost) you do need to know your way around the kitchen.  Stay with me and you’ll learn so much more than that.

Soup is Your Friend

News flash:  Soup is not the stuff that comes in a can.  Soup is the Kitchen Master’s bestest friend, the crisper cleaner-outer, the creativity outlet, and the soul-satisfier.  To quote those guys who shall not be named, “Soup is good food.”

In order to be a Kitchen Master, to satisfy the masses, to feed the hungry, you must make good soup.  And for most men, good soup includes meat and some form of homemade bread, or at least crackers and cheese.  But let’s notice that excellent, healthy, aromatic soup can be made from the humblest of ingredients, ingredients you really should have on hand, as they are useful for any number of easy, healthy, budget- and family-friendly dishes.

Soup’s Ready!

 “Crackers and water.”  That’s what my mom used to say with a smirk which irritated me a little bit.  Oh, but now I understand.  “What’s for dinner?” is an aggravating question when you don’t know the answer, and frankly, don’t want to know.

But when you have it all under control with a delicious pot of soup . . . now that’s when you can say, “Soup!”

Friday was soup day at my high school, no doubt because it’s a great way to use things up, and because the cooks were tired by Friday.  Most of the kids hated (or so they said) soup day, but it was my favorite, and I was one of the cooks’ favorites.  I always came back for seconds with a big grin, and any cook will tell you it’s nice to be appreciated.

At my house soup can mean something they all love, like creamy bacon mushroom, potato, clam chowder, or beef stew, or it can mean something with a few too many vegetables, which they have finally come to love (OK, tolerate), maybe because they figured it was better than peanut butter.

I don’t do picky eaters.  If they don’t like what I cook, they’re free to make a PBJ, but not to complain.  As I told them all once in a fit of pique over complaining and picky kids, “God made it, so it’s good.  If you don’t like it, that’s your problem, not mine.”  That may sound mean, but I will not be guilty of foisting onto the world thankless, persnickety children.

Back to soup.  I make it out of what I have, so no two pots are the same, but here’s a basic recipe that always turns out.

INGREDIENTS:

Meat of choice – I like chicken or hamburger.  With hamburger I go with Mexican seasonings, with chicken it’s Italian.  If you choose chicken, boil it the day before, cool and have kids debone.  Or just chop up the half  a breast you have leftover in the back of the fridge.  Hamburger is also nice to have cooked ahead of time.

Fresh vegetables – carrots, celery, onions, garlic and potatoes (optional) and as many as you want.  If you love carrots, put in the entire bag (if you have a big pan – this soup has a way of growing large).  If you only have one carrot, cut it up small to spread the color.  If you’re out of celery and potatoes, that’s not such a big deal unless you’re making potato soup.  If you’re out of onions and garlic, well, you just need to go to the grocery store.

Canned and/or frozen:  Tomatoes (in any form – tomato sauce or paste, diced, chili-ready or Italian depending on what sounds good, the last of the Pace Picante sauce), okra and japalenos (optional for you, but not for me) corn, green beans (frozen or canned).

Here We Go!

Begin with carrots – they take longest to cook.  Peel (or not), slice, cover with water and cook on medium high heat.  Add cubes of celery next, then chopped onions and garlic (dried and/or fresh – I use dried onion flakes, fresh chopped onions and freshly minced garlic) and bay leaf (I always add oregano before serving).  I’ll leave it up to you if you want potatoes in your soup.  If so, cube and put them in right after the carrots.  How to decide?  Do you have and love potatoes?  Are they about to go bad?  Then put them in!  Soup is a creative and money-saving endeavor.

Now brown hamburger meat if you aren’t on top of your game with this chore already completed, or debone the chicken you cooked the night before.  You forgot!!!  Well, then, put that baby on right now to boil – you’ll need to turn off your veges until the chicken’s ready to go.  It’s frozen?  That never stops me, and I don’t have a microwave.  Just put it in the water and turn on the burner (only be sure to pull out the bag of giblets just as soon as the chicken is thawed enough to do so).  Now, make some cornbread and put out some butter to soften.  You can snack on hot buttered, cheesey japaleno cornbread while you wait.

Oh, it sounds fattening?  Then don’t eat three pieces!  Just eat two and save one for the soup.  Yay!

Back to the hamburger.  You can put in lots or a little, or just serve your soup with cheese and bread to make up for a lack of meat

Brown the hamburger with still more onions and garlic, and sometimes oregano and/or chili powder and as always, salt and pepper.  If I have it, I use sea salt.  If I’m lazy or in a hurry I put the peppercorns in whole  (yes, you’re allowed to use that cheapo Wal-Mart pepper – we’ve all done it, and speaking of that, I’ve found Wal-Mart is an inexpensive place to get dried onion flakes).

The carrots should be almost tender, and that’s all you want.  Put your vegetables along with the meat into your big soup pan, including the cooking water and the meat drippings.  Once the soup is refrigerated you can easily peel the fat off, although if you’re using organic meat there’s no reason to do so.  The soup will be even better once it’s leftover.

Now for the fun and easy stuff:  sliced okra, tomatoes, corn and green beans (frozen or canned) and enough water to cover everything with extra on top.

Once it’s hot, taste and add seasonings as preferred.

That’s it.  Serve it with or without crackers, cornbread, or artisan bread. And may I suggest some thinly sliced sweet onions?   Oh, and remember this soup is even better leftover.

P.S.  Cabbage is also good in this soup – cook it ahead with the carrots and potatoes.

AND SPEAKING OF CABBAGE . . .

I had this big beautiful Chinese cabbage and not much else and it was snowing.  Definitely souptime.  I peeled and sliced three potatoes, chopped onion and garlic, and began simmering them in water as I chopped the cabbage.

Adding the cabbage along with the little heavy cream I had (about ¼ cup) and a quart or so of milk, I went flavor hunting.  Ah ha!  Bacon ends and pieces – so beautiful.  There was no danger of anyone thinking this was merely cabbage soup.  This was soup with bacon!  About a cup sizzled as I added sea salt and cream cheese (celery would be good, but I was out).

When the bacon was crispy I chopped it and added it along with some of the drippings (matter of taste here and I’m not admitting how much I use) and a stick of organic Humboldt butter.

I got rave reviews on this soup!

Rave reviews are practically a given if bacon is involved.  Here’s a soup that was a happy accident due to my need to use up several Crimini mushrooms:

 

Creamy Bacon Mushroom Soup

Begin by frying your bacon nice and crispy.  I usually use about one slice of bacon per cup of liquid, so six to eight slices in this case.  I prefer putting bacon on a cookie sheet and cooking at around 400 degrees (keep a close watch as it’s a sin to burn bacon) in the oven until nice and crispy.  Remove promptly when finished.

Now chop (in all chopping look for kids with idle hands) the mushrooms (any kind you have on hand) – I first used about ten mushrooms, but I’ve made this with only three.  Saute for a few minutes on low heat in an oil or oil mixture.  I do almost everything with some combination of butter/coconut oil/olive oil.  NEVER USE MARGARINE OR ANY OTHER KIND OF BUTTER ADULTERATION/ABOMINATION.  How much oil?  This is your soup – you decide!  (I’m also not admitting how much butter I use.)

Now add milk, heavy whipping cream, half and half, or any combination thereof.  I always use mostly whole milk with a little cream or half and half.  Why can’t I be specific?  Because I don’t want you thinking you can’t make this because you don’t have the exact ingredients.  Again, soup is a creative endeavor, and as this particular soup contains bacon, you really can’t lose.

OK, I”ll get a little bit helpful.  Let’s say you have a big group of healthy eaters and you want about six to eight good servings of soup.  Use about eight cups of liquid, roughly half milk, ¼ cream, and ¼ half and half.  It will be delicious using all milk, so long as it’s whole milk.  So in this case it would be four cups of milk, two of cream and two of half-n-half.

As the soup cooks on medium/low heat, chop the bacon and prepare a thickener.  I like to use a couple of heating tablespoons of cornstarch stirred first into a cup of warm water (or you could try using a roué of wholewheat flour and butter). When the soup is hot pour in the cornstarch and water mixture, stirring until creamy and well incorporated.

Continue to cook, stirring often, until the soup has bubbled for a few minutes.  Turn off and test for saltiness, adding sea salt a little at a time until just barely salty.  Depending on your preference for thickness, you can add more cornstarch/water mixture, and cook a few minutes more.  You will love the taste, but it’s best if you serve this soup later.  It’s going to be even better after refrigeration and re-heating (on medium low with stirring).

Variations:  A couple cans of tuna or clams make this soup a delicious and even heartier meal.  You might call it Southern Clam Chowder or Granny’s Cream of Tuna with Bacon.  Also, Mushroom broths from the grocery store are delicious in this soup, as is chopped garlic.  You can dress it up with a little parsley on top, and serve it with crackers and cream cheese.  But really, it doesn’t need any help.  After all, it’s made of mushrooms, cream, and bacon.

Tip for kids who don’t like the texture of mushrooms:  Put the mushrooms in the blender or food processor and they won’t know they’re in there if you don’t tell.

Budget tip:  Use only one or two slices of bacon, or just leftover bacon drippings, or even a little chopped ham or Spam.  If none of this works for you, just up the butter a little.

Man-pleaser tip:  This soup has bacon.  Nuff said.  But if you really wanna lay it on thick, make bread.