A summer is not summer without a week at
Turkey Hill Ranch Bible Camp.
Moffitt's came by the hoards.

All, but 3.
Down to the lake.Cousin love.
Creek play.
Girl party.Boy party.
Anna, Rachel, Me.
Yee Haw!
Which one to ride?
All of them, I guess.

See ya next summer! And the next summer and the next summer...

This girl

she's been getting a kick out of throwing 2 year old-type tantrums the past couple days.
But when I've about had enough of her, her silly antics somehow turn her back into a doll.


I'll take the woman's role. Thank you very much.

Edited: he's fixing the dryer vent in the basement crawl space of the what the kids call "the spooky room".


Flavor of Iowa

Farmer's market has been part of my life for almost as long as I can remember. For my parents, selling vegetables and other farm goods has been supplemental in providing for 6 kids. With the help of us, of course.

I used to despise the work at times. Gardening acres of ground is no small task, let alone hauling it to town 2-3 times a week to sell. The benefits and beauty were hardly noticed. I longed to be on the other side of the counter buying bouquets of flowers and putting fresh food into the basket on my arm to take to my little house with my husband and kids.

But sometimes what goes around comes around and I've found myself back at the market on the wrong side of the table with my husband and kidlets.

Andy and I have been selling homemade sweet corn ice cream. It was his idea ever since my sister tasted the flavor in Puerto Rico. Since 'corn' is Iowa's middle name (and 'pig' it's last name), he thought this had to be done.

Reactions of disgust, curiosity, have-to-try-it, wow yum!, that's just weird
and often a combo of all the above are displayed by the passersby.

With some experimenting and tweaking we have come up with a pretty good recipe. Pureed sweet corn with cream and a hint of cinnamon, topped with salted sugar crackle. Almost everyone who is fearful to try it admits they like it, or love it.

Sweet corn ice cream is for a limited time only.
As fun as it is, we're tired of a corn slimed kitchen and hours of the whirring ice cream maker.

Here's what the Des Moines Register says.