I've lived in Oregon for 6 years, and am a homemaker who raises huge turkeys, chickens, pheasants, and ducks. Canning and preserving from our large gardens, berry patch, and orchard take much of my time. I make our own wines, raise our own vineyard, make our own beers, and cook constantly. Volunteering at our church's food and clothing pantry once a week is a joy. From my Midwest upbringing, I've learned to really appreciate the Amish cooks with their simple ingredients and cooking styles. Though I love to experiment, I most enjoy cooking old-fashioned recipes, occasionally altering them to make them healthier. Though I've been cooking for over 30 years, I realize that we never can "know it all," and love to learn from other cooks. Canning and preserving are extremely important to my family and me. How lovely it is to see jars and jars of good things from our garden that will last all year. Breads, desserts, and candies sometimes take precedence over main dishes, as one could tell from my cholesterol levels. One of the best parts of Christmas is baking and decorating cookies and candies with kids. Creating a family cookbook to hand down to my kids which includes favorites of theirs is a tradition I'm starting. So many wonderful recipes from my grandmother were lost because she never wrote them down. Her hot cross bun recipe is lost forever. Overcoming a fear of trying something new, especially if it's out of my comfort zone is perhaps my greatest triumph. I think the first time I made a loaf of bread that was just what I imagined was my first triumph. Making a meal that everyone enjoys makes me feel triumphant. Having someone ask for my recipe is certainly lovely, as when they "demand" I cook a certain dish for our next get-together. Tasting my own Gewurztraminer at its peak of aging was definitely another, though it's not necessarily cooking. Isn't it wonderful to create something at home that one would have had to pay a huge amount for elsewhere? My very first batch of biscuits was a "tragedy." I forgot to put in the baking powder. I had to rename them as something entirely different to persuade my new husband to eat them. Throwing anything out is, in my mind, a mild tragedy; I hate to waste! But those hockey pucks had to go.