Foodie Friday: Egg And Chive Stir Fry

Well, dear reader, brace yourself for yet another egg recipe. I am steadfast in my new "I must use what I have on hand and not allow anything to go to waste" mentality. Seriously, we throw away so much food. Whether it is fresh produce that gets pushed to the back of the refrigerator and forgotten or leftovers that are kept for upcoming meals and tossed away, we waste a ton of food. My new mantra is "use what we have and don't waste anything."

Each market season, my various farmer friends graciously gift us items they don't sell at the market. These gifts range from fresh-cut flowers to herbs, bread, and mushrooms. I appreciate these generous gifts, but sometimes I don't know how to use the items in an everyday meal. We have learned that focaccia bread makes a beautiful and delicious pizza crust. I've also learned to create a lovely and tasty cream of mushroom soup from various gourmet mushrooms. Herbs tend to throw me a bit. I don't know how to use fennel or tarragon in large quantities. However, I am adamant that I will figure it out.

Last Saturday, our friends from Starcrossed Naturals gifted me a large bunch of fresh chives. I am unfamiliar with using fresh chives other than creating garlic and chive butter to top baked potatoes. Garlic and chive butter is an easy recipe but only requires a tablespoon or two of fresh chives. I had two cups or more of fresh chives to work with, and I did not want to let them go to waste. I came home from the market, put my fresh chive bouquet in a mason jar of water in the refrigerator, and then Googled recipes using chives.

The very first recipe to appear was an egg and chive Chinese stir-fry. This recipe is from: whttps://thewoksoflife.com/chinese-chives-eggs/#recipe. Check out this website for a variety of traditional Chinese recipes and wonderful insight. Much to my pleasure, I had everything on hand to create this easy recipe. Continuing with the theme of eating what we have on hand, I continue to have a ton of chicken eggs. Unfortunately, egg meals are going the way of soup with my daughter. I am confident she will begin protesting in earnest all things egg-based. However, she will have to learn to eat a lot of eggs or go hungry-sorry Bean.

This egg stir-fry was a quick and delicious meal that was ready in minutes. It was very filling and quite tasty. The Bibbed Wonder gave it the stamp of approval and requested I make it again. When a recipe is placed on the make-again list, I know it is a success. I served the egg and chive stir-fry with jasmine rice and fresh fruit to round out the meal. This is a lovely meal for busy weeknights when meal planning was forgotten.

Egg and Chive Stir-Fry

(Courtesy of The Woks of Life Website's co-author Judy)

Ingredients:

• 2 Cups cooked jasmine rice

• 5 eggs (I used 6 eggs because I have so many, and I like even numbers)

• 1/8 teaspoon sugar

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1 teaspoon Shaoxing wine

• 1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper

• 1/4 teaspoon sesame oil

• 4 teaspoons water

• 2 cups Chinese chives/garlic chives (chopped)

• 4 tablespoons vegetable oil

Directions:

Crack the eggs into a large bowl, and add the sugar, salt, Shaoxing wine, white pepper, sesame oil, and water. Beat the eggs for 30 seconds until you see a layer of tiny bubbles floating on the surface of the beaten eggs. Mix in the chives until combined. Now you are ready to cook.

Heat a wok until it starts to smoke, then turn the heat down to medium-low. Wait 10 seconds, and then add the oil. Coat the wok with oil using your spatula to swirl it around. When adding the egg mixture, the oil should be hot but not smoking.

Once you pour the eggs into the wok, flip them and stir them slowly with a spatula, being careful not to let them brown or firm up too much. Once the eggs are just cooked, they're ready.

I hope you enjoy this simple and delicious recipe as much as we did. Check out The Woks of Life website for more delicious traditional Chinese recipes. On this lovely summer-like Friday, stay safe, be smart, try new recipes, use what you have, make every effort not to waste food, and, of course, keep washing your hands.

Karma Is Not A Cat Sitting In My Lap Because It Loves Me

Nope, not Karma

I will break from my usual topics of goats, soap, animals, my exasperating husband, and farm life and tell you how excited I am for this school year to be over. Seriously, I cannot wait for this year to end, close the chapter, lock it in a box, and never return to it. This year with my daughter was HARD. You know the Taylor Swift song, Karma? Yeah, Karma is not a cat sitting in my lap because it loves me. It's more like a saber tooth tiger biting me on the ass.

I taught seventh through ninth grade for five years. During those five years, I learned that ninth graders are my least favorite group to work with. I watched as children I adored as charming, cherub-like, polite, respectful seventh and eighth graders who would race to my classroom to be the first one to talk to me, make me gifts in art class, bring me Cadbury eggs for Easter, write me notes of admiration little darlings turn into mutants. I know it sounds harsh, but it's true. The adorable children I enjoyed having in my classroom turned into rude, moody, ill-behaved, borderline disrespectful, don't-give-a-sh**-about-anything subhumans. I dealt with more behavioral issues with ninth graders than I did with seventh-graders.

I have so many stories from my days in the classroom, but a few are outrageous enough to stand out. Every year, my department would grapple over who got to teach the advanced students. Everyone loved the advanced students. My peers firmly believed that advanced kids were harder working, more serious, better behaved, and less inclined to make one want to pull their hair out. This was not my experience. I found the advanced kids to be arrogant, entitled, whiney, grade-grubbing, competitive pains in the ass.

I loved my basic ability students. I had the same group of kids in my first-period class from seventh grade through eleventh. Kids who gave other teachers nightmares were absolutely delightful to me. They were interesting, diverse, and just really neat kids. Kids are human beings. Treat them with respect, compassion, and understanding, and they will return the favor. I had an incredible repertoire with them. Even as ninth graders, these kids were enjoyable.

I had an advanced class in my first year as a ninth-grade teacher. I dreaded this class. I would brace myself for snide comments and eye rolls. I would listen to them argue amongst themselves, brag, and put each other down. Gah! These kids would fight tooth and nail over half a percentage point to keep their class status. I found them absolutely exasperating. One day, as I was handing back papers and listening to groans of complaint, one of my favorite kids in this class looked me square in the eye, then dropped his eyes to my chest and said, "Nice tits." My classroom seats were set up in a half circle at the time. I chose this arrangement for discussion purposes, but it put me at the front and center stage in this scenario. I was unsure if I had heard him correctly at first. However, once the room erupted into laughter, I knew I had heard him correctly.

I ordered him out to the hallway immediately. As he smirked and strutted out the door, I addressed his comment with genuine anger. I told him I could not believe he had disrespected me and humiliated me in my classroom. I informed him that objectifying women was a severe thinking error, antiquated and boarish behavior, and I expected so much more from him. I asked him if I had ever humiliated him or treated him as less than he was worth. His smirk faded, the bravado disappeared, and he looked like a kid who had really screwed up. I asked him how his mother would feel about his behavior. With this, he looked like he wanted to cry. He apologized profusely and told me he didn't know why he said it; it had just come out. He asked if I was going to write him up. I told him no, I don't write students up unless it is a physical altercation. He looked relieved for a split second, then asked if I would tell his mom. I replied no, I would not tell his mom. Again, he looked relieved for a split second, and I finished with an ominous "You will." At that, he looked like a kid about to face a firing squad.

I marched into my silent classroom, instructed my students to make the necessary corrections on the papers I had just returned to them, got my box of parent information cards, pulled the offending student's card, and marched out the door. I overheard someone say, "Oh, shit! She's calling his mom." Oh, shit, indeed. I dialed the number and took the phone to the hallway. I had to interrupt his mother's work day. When I was finally connected to her, I explained who I was and that there was a situation in my classroom. I was going to let her son explain. I could hear everything his mother said. The conversation began with "What did you do?" He responded, "I said something inappropriate to Mrs. Smay." Of course, his mom asked what he specifically said. He replied, "I don't want to tell you. Mom! I told her she had.... " He looked at me pleadingly and mouthed, please don't make me do this. I merely nodded my head like, get it over with. He then blurted out, "I told her she had nice breasts. No, those weren't the words I used. Mom, I'm so sorry. Please... I know!"

After listening to his mother unleash a barrage of threats, including going to military school, she asked to speak to me again. I calmly took the phone, listened to this outraged, disappointed, and humiliated mother apologize for her son's rude and disgraceful behavior, and was told to do whatever I needed to do. I asked if she would be alright with me having him remain after school for a week and work on three essays with topics I had not decided upon yet. She agreed, thanked me for my patience, and apologized again. The offending student wrote three five-page essays on the topics of societal harms of objectifying women, the importance of respect in all relationships, and the importance of and how to exercise self-control. I never had an issue with this young man again, or any young man for that matter. Word travels like wildfire in a high school, and I was put on the do-not-mess-with list. The consensus was that taking the write-up was easier than dealing with me.

I had the pleasure of having many of the same students in my classes from seventh through eleventh grade because I would move up as departmental openings developed. When I left the ninth-grade classroom and moved to tenth grade, I was astounded at the change in my mutant-like ninth-graders. When the kids returned as tenth graders, they were miraculously human beings again. They weren't just human beings; they were decent human beings. I have held on to this experience like a life raft throughout my daughter's ninth-grade year. I continuously tell myself she will become my sweet, loving, honest, hard-working, wonderful girl once this year ends.

In the grand scheme of things, her behavior is normal for kids her age. She has pushed boundaries with us, told small lies, and gotten caught almost immediately. She has taken a devil-may-care attitude about her grades. She rolls her eyes, makes snide comments, spends much time in her room, puts her friends first, and sometimes acts like a self-centered and entitled subhuman. Her behavior would not be so hard to handle if she hadn't been a practically perfect kid before this year. I know no one is perfect. However, I would have said The Bean would fall into the Mary Poppins category of kids; she's practically perfect in every way. Sigh.

I think about everything I did as a kid; I know this is Karma. I am now paying for every lie I told; every skipped school day, every prank, rotten attitude, entitled behavior, and all the snotty and arrogant things I ever said or did. As a kid, I was so very far from perfect. However, I hold onto hope. Eventually, I grew up, gained perspective, worked on myself, found a good therapist, found my way, and I think I turned out okay. I'm still so far from perfect, but I make every effort to do better and be better than I was the day before. I have a long way to go, but I've come a long way from where I was as a kid or young adult.

I tell The Bean that screwing up, making mistakes, and cleaning up messes is how we learn and grow. I also jokingly tell her that as a kid, it is her job to make mistakes, but she doesn't have to become an overachiever at making mistakes. I know that this year has been a challenging year for a lot of reasons. She is changing faster than she can keep up, and it's scary. My parenting style is a lot like my teaching style. I am direct, forthright, respectful, empathetic, fair, and no-nonsense. I try not to yell, lose my cool, or hold onto anger. I don't use guilt or manipulation to achieve the results I desire. I try to give her room to grow, experiment, and make mistakes. I also try to be proactive rather than reactive.

This year, I am just done. I simply want the year to be over so we can put this behind us. I already have a plan in place for next year. I have five trusted women in my life whom I admire and consider extraordinary. I have asked Jenna to hang with The Bean and, hopefully, transfer some of that magical Jenna-ness to my kid. Jenna is considered young, fun, and cool by The Bean. Jenna has agreed to take The Bean to Penn State to hang out and show her around for a weekend. Hopefully, Jenna will also discuss the importance of doing well in high school so that one can choose their ideal college and path. I've also asked my dear friend Janet to work with Jordan once a week, beginning in late summer and continuing through the school year. Whether tutoring, goal setting, test prep, or study skills, Janet will positively impact Jordan. We will have the pleasure of hanging out with Abby for one more summer. I hope Abby will hang out with Jordan this summer. Abby and Jordan have a lot in common. They both love Taylor Swift, theater, performing arts, and music. Abby just graduated from college, is going to England for a year, and has done amazingly well. I also know that my friends Tricia and Christina will take every opportunity to imbue their wisdom and life experience into conversations with the Bean. I believe it is essential for Jordan to surround herself with women who are strong, independent, successful, capable, and brave.

I have tried to talk to The Bean about school, grades, friends, and her future, but at this point, I am merely her naggy mother. She views our discussions as punishment or judgment, although I consider them neither. Someone else can communicate the same messages I try to convey, which is better received. This hurts. However, I know it is a phase that, hopefully, she will grow out of sooner rather than later.

We have two and a half days left to bring grades up to an acceptable level, and no D is not for diploma. Sigh. I believe she will pull off bringing all her grades up, but it will be a white-knuckle ride to the very end. She has been working like a fool to do make-up work and extra credit, and some teachers have graciously offered a do-over on some assignments. I am hopeful this white-knuckle ride to the end will not be the new norm. I don't think I can handle it. I understand that everyone struggles. We all go through a bad patch and must hit bottom before pulling ourselves out. I hope this is The Bean's rock bottom, and it will be smooth sailing in the future. I'm also realistic enough to know that rough waters are merely a part of life, and we will weather many more storms. However, we will weather them together. The Bean has two parents who are thoroughly invested in her happiness, well-being, and success. As with everything, we will get through this together. Hopefully, this will make all the difference. I also understand that Karma is indeed a bitch. I am deeply regretful for being such a pain in the ass when I was a kid. I believe my dad is looking down from heaven and laughing his ass off. Sigh. Thanks daddy.

On this overcast Thursday, stay safe and be smart. Karma is real, and it is not a cat sitting in my lap because it loves me. (If you're a Swifty or a mom of a Swifty, you know) Teenagers are not for the weak. Stick together, and everything can be overcome. Surround yourself with amazing people who love your kid. It really does take a village, and keep washing your hands.

Crossing Things Off Our To-Do List

Ever so slowly, we are ticking things off our never-ending to-do list on the farm. Sunday, the weather cooperated enough for The Bibbed Wonder to clean the barn. The fields have been too wet and saturated for the equipment to get in without ripping up the pastures and creating more work. The Bibbed Wonder keeps the shoveling to a minimum by utilizing the skid steer, the tractor, and the manure spreader. The individual stalls must be shoveled, but truthfully, a large broom can handle the cedar chips and small amount of poo that the small stalls acquire. I helped a bit with the shoveling, but The Bibbed Wonder ran the equipment.

It's rewarding to check off items on one's to-do list. Mr. Fuzzy Bottoms and I often compete to wipe things off the whiteboard in the soap studio. For whatever reason, erasing an item on the whiteboard is very satisfying. I am tempted to create a whiteboard for the utility side of the garage to help us stay task-oriented and give us another whiteboard to fight over. To-do lists can be an excellent organizational tool, or a daunting reminder of all one has yet to accomplish. For the sake of my workaholic husband's mental well-being, I have refrained from implementing another whiteboard.

With the beautiful weather we have been experiencing, I took the opportunity to clean out the little green chicken coop that houses my new baby chicks. My chicks are now four weeks old, and they are almost feathered. I liken this stage to that of adolescent children. The chicks are in what I refer to as their ugly stage. Their little legs seem too long, their new feathers are wonky, and their little beaks appear too big for their little heads. I removed their heat lamp, installed the roost, and hung their water and food troughs from hooks installed in the coop. I was happy to check that off my to-do list. Three of the little buggers escaped the coop, and we had to run around like mad men trying to catch them. My greatest fear was that Buster would join the game and kill one. However, he merely sat at the driveway's edge and watched us chase tiny chickens like we were mad.

I hope to begin bathing the goats this week. I have started taking a new medicine, and it is taking a bit of getting used to. Unfortunately, it seems to zap my already taxed energy levels. I remain hopeful that it will be a game-changer once my body adjusts. However, until that adjustment, I believe fighting with my almost two-hundred-pound girls will do more harm than good. Realistically, once The Bean finishes school, we can tag team the girls, and things will go more smoothly. My girl is on a money-making mission with upcoming trips and a new car on the horizon. She will be thrilled to help me bathe goats for an hourly wage. Okay, thrilled might be an exaggeration, but making money seems to make any task more appealing.

Along with our never-ending to-do list of farm chores, we now must factor in prepping for our weekly market, staying on top of social media, and, much to The Bibbed Wonder's chagrin, weekly grass mowing. The grass has gotten ahead of us with all the rain we have experienced. Eric hates to mow the grass. However, although he hates to mow the grass, he also obsesses about mowing. I am forbidden to touch the mower. Seriously, one little incident where I bent steel blades, and he has held that against me like I committed treason. Okay, there have been multiple incidents with the mower. I got it wedged between a tree and a fence post; I have ruined numerous blades by assuming it can grind sticks, stumps, or rocks; I have taken off parts of the swing set and almost slid into the pond. I will admit running the lawn mower may not be one of my strengths. It is okay for me to admit this. However, when I once again offered my mowing services to ease his burden, my darling husband informed me that I am good at many things, but running the lawn mower is not one of them. Sigh. Rude.

Someday, when I am retired and have time to pursue all my grand ideas, I will buy myself a little Kubota tractor with all the toys and attachments. I will then refuse to let The Bibbed Wonder look in its direction. Unless I get it stuck, need it maintained, or break something on it. He then will know what it's like to live with someone with cooler toys than he and not be allowed to touch them. It's called karma. I have big dreams.

On yet another lovely summer-like day, stay safe, be smart, cross things off your to-do list, don't be rude to people who try to help you, and keep washing your hands.