Let me tell you a story.......

Once upon a time........well, let's not start this way. This isn't a fairy tale. Those don't exist in real life, but this is probably as close to one as you can get. 

It all started in 2004.

I was 16 when my brother started searching for a guitar player for a bluegrass gospel band he had formed called "Mount Zion". He had been to Nashville to record their first nationally released CD, and had been told by Jeff and Ray Deaton that, although Russ was perfectly fine as a guitar player for the group, he needed to be playing mandolin......because......well, if you've ever heard Russ play mandolin, you would know that he can pick one so hot it almost catches fire. So, their reasoning was sound, but finding a guitar player of the quality Russ would want was going to be hard. 

One day shortly following this fateful trip, a semi-frequent customer came in the store. He knew of Russ' trip to Nashville and the band formation, so he asked how things were going. When Russ explained the events of the trip, the customer said "Well, I may know of someone for you. He's a Mennonite, but he's the finest guitar picker I've heard." Russ responded with a look of confusion, and the statement that Mennonites don't play music. The man assured Russ that, although he would normally agree with him, this was not a normal case. So, Russ agreed to meet with the supposed "Mennonite". 

After their first meeting, I asked Russ how things went. He said "Well, he was right. That kid is fine. He's 21.....and probaby one of the best guitar players I've ever heard." My first thought was "21 and a guitar player! I've got to meet this guy!" So when I voiced this thought to Russ, his reply was......... well, not very enthusiastic. I was basically told the guy wasn't my type, and to forget about it. So I did. Until the next practice was set. I made sure that I ran late enough to still be at the store for when it started. I'll never forget the first time I heard him play. I was in with a student, and couldn't even see him, but I heard a guitar break, and was so impressed! I remember thinking "If this guy looks half as good as he plays, I'm going for it!". So, I finished up with my student and headed out front to see what was what. When I walked out and saw him.....the player of the guitar....the...."Mennonite"......He wasn't at all what I expected. He was......skinny.....short......and wore huge glasses. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, and looked like he hadn't shaved in a day or two. I probably don't have to tell you this, but at 16, when your hormones are going crazy and you have certain ideas of how someone should look or act, you tend to sluff off anything that doesn't fit in the tiny box that is your mind. So I think I nodded and maybe said hello before I made a beeline for the door. 

No. He wasn't what I was looking for. 

Over the course of the next few months, I had my 17th birthday, and life was pretty much the normal. Mom, dad, and myself started going to several Mount Zion shows........you know.......to support Russ. I enjoyed going to the shows, and was really starting to enjoy looking at the new guitar player. I didn't like the fact that I was enjoying it, but I reeally couldn't help myself. I mean, he was too skinny and short. He was not my type at all. (Because we all know at 17 everyone has their type picked out.)

In April of 2005, Russ was going to a local studio to start work on the next Mount Zion CD project, with the new arrangement. It would feature several old standards, and lots of original material. I remember being told about one particular studio trip where  Russ says he was asked tons of questions about me on the way there by a certain skinny guitarist. I wondered why in the world he was asking about me?? Maybe he caught me staring at him at one of the shows and thinks I'm some kind of psyco?  I tried not to think about it too much and just go on. Yeah. That didn't work. 

By June, one of us, and I still to this day don't know which one, decided to start talking to the other one. I realized that he had a subtle sense of humor that most everyone he was around didn't pick up on, so it made it really funny. Plus he had a sweet spirit about him, and he seemed very kind. The more time I spent around him, the more I liked him. One night that same month, I decided to go out on a limb and invite him to my house for supper. He was in town for a show and Russ and Skyla had plans with her partents, so I thought "what better excuse?" When I asked him, I don't know that he took me seriously right away, but after I insisted, he accepted and a plan was made for me to pick him up. When the hour arrived and I pulled in at the music store........well, let's just say we both got some looks. I didn't really care, Supper went good, except for one incident with a salt shaker that I won't reveal the details of. And we even took a picture to commemorate the event. 

                                         

Aftter that night, we were pretty much really good friends. We talked every few days and emailed some. Being an hour and a half from each other, that was pretty much our options. And I mean, we were, after all, just good friends, so what more did we need?

In July, I invited him up for my 18th birthday where we argued over what part of my cake he would eat, and then went for a drive to the Louisburg picnic where our lives changed forever. I don't know how it happened (I say that a lot in this story), but when we left the picnic that night, we were a couple. Then is when the real phone conversations started. The monday following my birthday, we talked for 3 hours.....but that was nothing in the grand scheme of things. We once stayed on the phone for 8, with most of the conversations averaging 4-5. As I say, we were 1 1/2 hours apart, with him not driving, so building a relationship on that type of situation isn't easy. We called, we emailed, and waited until a show came up so we could see each other. Weeks turned to months, arguments happened, things were forgiven, many shows passed, and finally an opportunity arose for him to move to Buffalo. Thankfully, he took it. 

Dating seriously changes when you're used to having phone conversations to get you by for 2 months at a time, then all of a sudden you can see each other every day. It was pretty awesome, and I'm sure I  took advantage many times, and drove him crazy. I just couldn't help myself. I was so in love with this man, who, thanks to mine and mom's cooking, wasn't so skinny and short anymore. My 20th birthday was what we counted as our 2 year dating anniversary. I wasn't really expecting anything, but I was hoping. I had been after him for a while to make a move. His proposal was quirky, and completely untraditional. Pretty much our whole relationship. I of course said yes, and we set the wedding date for one year and one month away. 

                                                       

A lot can hapen in a year. Even a lot of things that can test a relationship's strength. It was during this time that my mom was first diagnosed with cancer and I learned how much that I needed him. He was there for me the entire time. Mom lost her arm during that year, but she was still there for every step of my wedding planning, and anxious for me to get married. She told me that she knew she wouldn't always be with me and she wanted to know I would be taken care of. So the wedding went on as scheduled.  Our first year was hard, as is everyones, because learning to live with someone is hard work. But, I think it's safe to say that we handled things well, and eventually adjusted to each other. 

I learned so much during those dating years, but it never compairs with living with someone. First off, I thought when we were dating that he just didn't like his full name. Wrong. He HATES being called by his full name. There is no "Daniel" in our house. There is Dan. And he likes beans for breakfast. He occasionally likes mustard on his sandwhiches and desperately needs time to himself whenever he can. He was not a Mennonte, regardless of other peoples opinion. He pretty much has to drink with a straw. He likes to be taken care of when he's really sick, but when he's just a little sick, you best leave him alone. He loves his routein, and doesn't like breaking it for anyone. And this is just a teeny tiny portion of things that I have learned.......and sometimes learned the hard way. 

When I said a lot can happen in a year, take that times 5 and that brings us to now. We've had countless arguments, just as many make up sessions, 4 promotions, 1 job location change, overnight shifts, family events and celebrations, church services, and just last year we lost mom. She was right when she said that I would be taken care of. Dan was with me through it all, being my strength, holding me when I felt like I would fall, and being a shoulder when I just needed to cry. I couldn't have made it through without him. 

And now we're entering another new and exciting chapter by adding in a sweet little boy. This pregnancy is something that I am enjoying so much! I'm sure that by the end of it, though, it will be another test of our marriage......as will the raising of our child. I don't have any doubts about wether we'll make it though. I signed on for the long haul, and I know he did too.  

Happy number 5, honey. I love you.

And they lived most blessedly together forever. 

The end. 

Being a bachelorette stinks!

The original title of this post was going to be "28 days......a glimpse into the life of a Walmart widow"
But I got to thinking it might be a little too dramatic, and since my writing skills are on the 0-3 range, I opted for the current title. That way it saves disappointment.

Dan has received a promotion at work, and is now an Assistant Manager at one of the larger Walmart stores in the area. I'm so very proud of him. He definitely deserved it. However, I'm not so sure about this whole training business because it is the reason that I've been having to live alone.

My past living history is a simple one. I lived in my parents home until I was 21 and then I got married.  From that point, I have lived with my husband and have never been alone. Except for a time or two when he would have to work overnight or the time that he went to Nashville for 4 days to play music. During those 4 days I think I cried almost constantly until mom would look at me and tell me to "straighten up and calm down". (I'm still confused as to how I go both up and down at the same time, but mom knew best.) I remember being miserable the whole time and only going home to sleep. I was offered my old room at my parents house, but declined saying that I needed to learn to be alone. I've always been glad that I did that, and I think mom and dad were too.......even though they never said anything.
So now, it's not just 4 days.......it's 5 days and 5 nights per week for 4 weeks. Talk about culture shock!

I have to say that the first week wasn't that bad. Essentially the days went by pretty fast and I would spend the evening time with my dad. I was always home by 8:30 to 9 and could relax in my own home (in Dan's recliner) and watch whatever I wanted on TV while snacking on things that maybe I can't eat when Dan's home........like bananas. (I didn't eat bananas in his chair. I'm not cruel!) I didn't really worry if I kept the dishes done, or if I did laundry, because it was just me. I knew I'd get around to it sometime before he came home. (Not saying that my house is always spotless when Dan's home, but I like to have it cleaned as much as possible) I only use half the bed, so it's really easy to make up the next morning. Plus if I was asked to stay late at the store, or if something came up where I couldn't be home at a reasonable hour, I didn't worry because supper would be late. I'd just catch a bite on the run, or have a bowl of cereal when I got home. All of these things were pretty cool the first week, and I really didn't mind those first 5 days. JUST....the first 5 days.

When Friday of that week rolled around, I got up extra early, cleaned everything up, made a lemon pie and put some soup fixings in the crock pot. I have to say everything looked and smelled great. Like a home. I left the store early just to come home and do final preparations and enjoy my singleness in a clean house. The only problem was, I couldn't enjoy being alone. I was looking too forward to that yellow Nissan turning in the driveway. Once it did, everything was complete. I felt like me again. We had a good couple of days together.....then Sunday came.

Now, my brain didn't really want to start processing week 2, because, as I've said, 4 days is all we've ever been apart up to that time. After we'd made it that first week, my brain kept saying that was all there was to it, and he was home to stay.  So after church that night when I came home to an empty house again, I think my brain was thinking Dan was hiding in the closet or something. I kept going through some of the same situations I have about mom right now. Looking around for them........starting to say something and realizing they're not there.......saying "I'll need to ask them about it tonight".......etc.
I'm very fortunate, because I can still talk to Dan. All I have to do is text him and he'll answer me. I can't do that with mom. So, I think that thought helped me through that 2nd week. If I would ever get down and start feeling sorry for myself, I would try and remind myself of that very fact.

In spite of all the trouble I had those first couple days, week 2 still wasn't really bad. By this time, I started feeling really lonely when I went to sleep. So, I piled all the pillows on Dan's side of the bed, just so there would be a person sized lump there. And I turned on my TV every night to sleep by, so there would be noise in the room. Both of these things helped me SO much. I was actually able to sleep at night instead of "cat napping" all night, and I desperately needed sleep. I had a terrible cold and felt just plain awful. For the first time in my life, I wasn't living with someone to take care of me. Growing up was pretty much the only option. I mean, dad was there, but he's never had the caring touch that mom or even Dan has had when I was sick.
I lived in a fog for a couple days and really took advantage of not cooking or cleaning. I just plain didn't feel like it, so I didn't do it. I think it was Thursday of that week before I started getting over my cold enough to feel human again, which was great. I talked to myself like crazy trying to not get too excited about Dan coming home that weekend. I didn't want my brain going through what it went through before, so I kept telling myself that we were only half way done with this whole training process. Even as I was saying it, I knew my brain wasn't buying it, so I got just as excited as ever. The only trouble with that was neither one of us had a very good week; Can we say grumpy?

2 weeks of motel life with a stranger is not something that Dan can accept very easy. I can't blame him, I wouldn't be able to handle that at all. I feel like I'm too personal of a person to just move in and live with someone I've never met before. I think he'd only managed to get about 10 hours sleep for that whole week he was gone, so he did NOT feel like talking about his experiences from that week. I think Friday night I fell asleep about 8:30, had an auction on Saturday that I had to leave at 5 AM for, didn't get home until after 6 that night, fell asleep again sometime before 9, and then it was Sunday again. Plus Dan's "sidekick" wasn't riding with him this week so Dan wanted to leave at noon. We really didn't see each other that weekend, and I think that's what made week 3 so hard.

Week 3 was the one where I nearly broke down. Everything seemed twice as hard as it normally did. I felt myself drifting into a fog and I really didn't want to see anyone or do anything. I think if I had been able, I would have stayed at home every day......in bed.....with a big bowl of pudding or something. I would have sunk into a super bad depression and probably spent most every day in tears. Monday and Tuesday drug by.....and Wednesday wasn't so great either. It was one of those weird moments when you do lots of stuff, thinking that you're killing all this time but in reality it only took you ten minutes. I hate that. Where is that super speed when you need it?
When I reached the down hill slope (Wednesday night), I could finally start perking up again. Then, I would start rationalizing; "I've only got two days and two nights left! Well, really, it's only one day because he'll be coming home Friday.....and really it's only one more night because it's already night now........so one day and one night....." This would go on for a while. I'd try to think of how I could arrange my schedule so I could be home when he got there, etc. I'm pretty sure that week 3 was the hardest for both of us.
I would try to remember what it was like when we were dating and would only see each other every one to two months.....and only for a few hours. At times that would help, but otherwise I was pretty much left to my self pity.
That weekend went much better, although I was working again on Saturday, but it wasn't as late and I didn't fall asleep so early.

Now comes the final push. Week 4. I actually thought this would be my toughest week. I pictured myself sitting at home, bawling my eyes out, pining for my husband who couldn't be there. (OK, so I can be dramatic. lol) Truth is, it wasn't like that at all. It was more like the first week. I was home a lot more because dad was spending more time with Russ, but it was still nice. I would pop in a movie, or watch an episode or two of a series I'm currently interested in on Netflix, eat snacks, sit in the recliner........things weren't all bad......but it wasn't all snacks and tv either. I was empty inside.

Finally, we reach the end of our journey. Today is Friday.....at the end of week 4. I feel as though I'm a better person for going through this experience with as little discomfort as possible, and I'm proud of both Dan and myself for handling it as well as we have. But truth be known, I wouldn't trade him for anything, and I'm so very thankful that my "bachelorette" days are over. They really do stink.

Proverbs 31 Woman

PROVERBS 31:10-31

10 Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.

11 The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.

12 She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.

13 She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.

14 She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.

15 She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. 
16 She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.

17 She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.

18 She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.

19 She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.

20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.

21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.

22 She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.

23 Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.

24 She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.

25 Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.

26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.

27 She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.

28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.

29 Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.

30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.

31 Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.

People can interpret bible verses so many different ways. I know of some that would probably read this and say "Ok, to be a virtuous woman I have to make all my own clothes for me and all my family, spin my own wool, grow a vineyard, never touch any makeup, and be perfectly kind to every single person I meet. I don't necessarily see it that way. Let's talk a little more about this.

 

I was recently reading a post on Facebook, entitled;

"10 things NOT found in Proverbs 31".

I was intrigued, so I read it. It goes like this;
‎

10 THINGS NOT FOUND IN PROVERBS 31

1. Her coffee table never has dust on it.

2. Many have eaten off her kitchen floor.

3. Better Homes and Gardens just did a photo shoot in her living room.

4. She does all of the housework herself while the kids play Wii.

5. All of the words that flow from her children’s mouths are blessed.

6. All of her children are straight A students, musical geniuses, and all-star athletes.

7. Her hair is always fixed perfectly and her make-up is artfully applied.

8. She does not touch make-up or hairspray because it is vain and the art of Satan.

9. She never makes a bad decision.

10. She is classroom mom, PTO President, the bearer of orange slices at soccer games, and the church committee queen.

I can't really say why, for sure, but that really slapped me in the face. Was it because it was wrong? No. It really doesn't say that in Proverbs. I think what really got me was the fact that I was trying to be.......this person. The "NOT found in Proverbs" woman. Let me explain. 

Ever since my mom passed away, I've been wanting to be perfect. OK, not perfect in every way, but a perfect wife. I wanted to get my house in perfect condition, keep everything put away, always have nice meals cooked to perfection, wonderful desserts (home made at least once a week), the yard all landscaped and kept mowed all the time, and basically just everything........perfect. 

I thought if I could do that, I would be someone that mom would have been proud of. I would be the type of woman that she was. 

Now, after re-reading that last sentence, it gives the impression that my mom was perfect......and she was. As my mother, she was perfect. Was the house always clean? No. Were there always 3 home made meals a day? No. Did she always think before she spoke? No. But she was perfect? Yes. 

"11: The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil."

"12: She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life."

"28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."

My dad has said many times that he couldn't have been more blessed to have had my mom because she was a "virtuous woman". I never really thought too much about that when I was younger. Mom was just......mom. She did her best to make sure her family was taken care of. She paid the bills on time, kept the house as best she could (until she was too sick to do it anymore), cooked, took care of all of us, and so much more. But now as I've grown, I say she was wonderful.

"15 She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens."

"20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy."

"26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness"

OK, so there are lots of ways to interpret these verses, but I can say that mom always took care of her household. She didn't always get up before dawn to make dad breakfast, but he was still taken care of. Maybe mom didn't volunteer at a soup kitchen every weekend, but I can guarantee she never let anyone go hungry in her presence. And her words were always spoken with wisdom, even if it didn't seem kind at the time.

"30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised."

Verse 30 says it all. "A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised." This is what mom was all about. She feared God and was a servant to Him all the days of her life. That is what made her a virtuous woman. That is what she wanted from me, and what would make her proud. It doesn't really matter if nothing is perfect, because I can still be a virtuous woman by trying to do my best. By trying to be what God wants me to be and by following Him, fearing Him, and serving Him. 

This doesn't mean that I won't fail. That I won't still try and have things perfect, even though I know that it's next to impossible to do, but now I realize more than ever that the first thing on my list should always be fear God and put Him first. 

Thanks, mom. You have taught me the true meaning of being a true Christian wife and mother. 

I pray that I can be just like you. 

Rants, Ramblings, and a Recipe!

I don't have much on the schedule for a blog post this week. So something with the 3 R's is always good.

I was originally just going to post a rant on how I currently feel about doctors.......but I don't want to just dwell on the negative right now, because that's way too easy to do. You see, right now, mom has pneumonia. Not good. The worst part was how she was diagnosed. She'd been not feeling well since Memorial Day, and when we took her to her normal doctor, they said she had bronchitis, gave her some sulfur drugs, a shot, and sent her home. She had a terrible cough, and, pardon me for being graphic, had coughed up a bunch of icky yellow/green mucus, and once or twice it had been laced with blood. Now, we explained all that to the doctor, and she still said bronchitis. She said she couldn't hear pneumonia in her lungs and mom didn't want an X-Ray. After 10 days of the sulfur drug, mom was still sick, but she said it wasn't near as bad. The cough, however had not let up. After about 3 days of being off the sulfur drug, she was worse. So we tried a different doctor at what they call "Urgent Care". It was the only place open besides the hospital on a Friday night after 5PM.
I don't know God's plan, but I know everything has a reason. There is a reason mom got sick, and there is a reason that this particular doctor saw mom on the night in question. But I doubt I will ever know the reason.
I hadn't gone with mom and dad that night, because they said there was no need. Mom had been told by countless people that she had  pneumonia, and after doing some research with my good friend Google, I had come up with the same conclusion. We were in hopes that another doctor would give her some medicine that  would actually clear it up, instead of just holding it back for a while. After the doctor saw mom, she said an X-Ray was necessary, and BEFORE she even found out the results, she came in and proceeded to tell my mom that she didn't have a virus, or pneumonia, or anything else.......her lungs were completely covered in cancer.
As I have said in my past posts, we are aware of some small tumors in mom's lungs, and she has an appointment in August to have them looked at, but this? No one was expecting. You can imagine the pain and shock that mom and dad were feeling at that time, and after hearing this story, I was upset that I had not been there with them. Anyway, this doctor was completely rude, and after she found out the results were indeed pneumonia, she didn't even offer as much as an "I'm sorry for putting you through this". Some doctors can be such scum. Thankfully we do have mom on 2 strong antibiotics now, and she has finally (after a week) started showing some improvement. Thank you, Lord! The final straw that made me not like this woman in the least happened the following Monday when mom went back for a follow up. Apparently this was not necessary (even though the doctor said it was), and the doctor was mad mom was there. When she got done examining mom, she said "Well, I'm still not convinced it's pneumonia". Boy, did my mom tell her the what for! Go mom! All I have to say is, what kind of a doctor does that? Not a very good one.

Thus ends the rant section of this post.

As for the rambling, I'm good at that. Just ask my husband. One of the big differences between us is the way we describe our day;

Me: "So, how was your day?"
Dan: "Eh. There were some good points, but it was still a rough one." 
Me: *waiting* *waiting some more* "Ummm.......OK, would you like to elaborate on that a bit?"
Dan: "Not really." 

End of discussion.
Reverse roles.

Dan: "So, how was your day?"
Me: "Oh, you know. About the same. I went over by to check on mom and when she fell asleep, I ended up falling asleep and I was afraid I'd get to the store late. I did get to the store late, but not because of that, it was because I had to follow some guy that apparently doesn't know how to drive because he was weaving all over the road and wouldn't go faster that 40 miles per hour, and after I got to the store Russ had to leave and help Skyla with some real estate stuff so I was there by myself and this nut-job comes in and decides to tell me his life story! I just kept standing there saying "uh huh, uh huh" but he didn't get the point."
Dan: "Uh huh." (Yes I'm aware of the irony)
Me: "So after an hour......an HOUR.....that guy finally walks out and I was ready to strangle Russ by the time that he got back. Then I had to make the virtual tour for the property that Skyla just listed and my computer kept freezing up.......I really need to clean that thing......and when I finally got it done I was 15 minutes late for my student, which of course threw me behind on all the rest of them. And then I get to hear the famous whine of "Why do I have to do it that way?" and "My fingers hurt". Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. I'm just glad to be home."
Dan: *nodding* "All right then." 

There are several hundred variations on that conversation, but it's pretty much that same conversation every day. Sometimes I don't know how he puts up with me. But he does, and I am grateful.

Alright, I guess that's enough rambling, so on to the recipe!

I've wanted to post this bread recipe for quite a while now, because I am a flop when it comes to home made bread. Seriously! But this bread worked for even me, so I know someone with bread making skills could do wonders with it. My dad makes the best bread in the entire world, no joke. He makes it out of a start that he got from another man about 4 years ago, who got his start from a man a year or so before that. So we just call it "man bread". Dad will not give the recipe or the starter to a woman because he wants to carry on the tradition. Oh well. This way I just get to eat it and don't have to bake it. lol OK, rambling again. Sorry.

The ingredients are as follows:

 2 cups warm water
3 tablespoons sugar 
2 heaping tablespoon or packet of yeast.
2 tablespoons butter
5 cups Bread Flour
2 tablespoons of salt 

Mix warm water and sugar in a largish mixing bowl. Sprinkle yeast over the top and let sit for about 5 minutes.
 Add the butter, 4 cups of flour, and the salt. Stir this together until it begins to hold together. Pour a cup of flour onto the surface you intend to use for kneading. 

Knead until it holds its own shape well, 3 or 4 minutes. Let the dough rest while you grease a bowl for rising. Return to your dough and knead a further 3 or 4 minutes until it's smooth

Roll the dough into a ball and place in the greased bowl.

 Put the bowl someplace warm and cozy. I like to put mine on the floor in front of my patio door, especially if I'm making it int the afternoon/early evening. This makes for a pleasant environment for the bread, because it's so nice and sunny. It recipe says to leave until it's doubled in size, but I let it rise for an hour.

After an hour dump the dough out on a floured surface and punch it down. Knead the bubbles out and form into two loaves. Place the loaves into lightly greased bread pans. Return to the floor.
 

Let them "rise" for another hour.

With the loaves sitting in the oven, turn it on to 350 degrees and leave them in for 45 minutes.

  Since your oven is probably different than mine, you should knock on the tops with your knuckles to check for a hollow sounds. That means they're done!

I always coat the tops of my bread with butter and cover with waxed paper and a towel. This way it softens up the crust. 

What I like about this bread is not only the taste, but how easy it is to make. Plus it is still fresh the next day, unlike a lot of home made bread. 

I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to post a comment about how your bread turns out if you decide to try it!