Writer's Block

There's nothing like a simple question, an email, and an unexpected visit with my high school English teacher to remind me that I like to write, I have a blog, and I randomly stopped posting over a month ago.  A month ago!?!  My how time flies!  I admit I kicked myself when the first week slipped by.  But after the second week crept up on me, I drifted easily into an apathetic underwater float -- holding my breath splayed prone in the water listening to nothing but the lilt of the waves on my body, the gurgle of an intermittent bubble escaping from my nostrils, and the silence in my head.  It's really quite peaceful.  But eventually you have to come up for air.

"Have you decided to abandon your blog?" my mother-in-law sweetly posed across the table at Sunday lunch.  Busted!  I had hoped to stay underwater a while longer.  "No. I just need a break," was the short version of the long answer I'd been mulling over for weeks.  Why had I abruptly quit posting?  I hadn't stopped cooking interesting dishes, I hadn't ceased to research natural health, the garden hadn't stopped growing, my days weren't uninteresting to me, and I certainly hadn't changed my philosophies about simple, intentional living.  But I had gotten the feeling that my posts were strained.  I was anxious about what to write next or how to keep it interesting.  I was concerned about being too preachy or elementary.  And the inkling that readers (however plenteous or few they may be) might not actually DO anything with my posts was discouraging.  What if no one is actually interested in how I make mayonnaise or that I'm an educated, accomplished young woman purposely living without conventional career aspirations?  More than the "How To" is anyone being influenced by the "Why"?  I let the cursor remain idle as these questions hung heavily in the air.

And in this moment of creative floundering, the weirdest thing happened...

My high school English teacher from Connecticut came to Louisville, Kentucky. Despite my inflated opinion of my moments of academic glory under his tutelage, his voyage to the Bluegrass State had nothing to do with seeing his former students.  He, a Harvard grad and valedictorian of his class, was here for a week grading 40,000 AP English Literature exams with a crew of other veteran English teachers.  Graciously, he got in touch with my sisters and me in hopes that we could catch up during a free evening.  Here I was covertly protesting the pen and one of my foremost influences literally comes to town!

To my relief, we spoke very little about my writing. (Though I did ask him to clarify a grammatical conundrum I'd been wrestling with recently.  I'm such a nerd!)  The small group of us enjoyed the evening telling stories and giving updates about family, school, work, and leisure.  Parting ways, I could have wiped my brow and skulked back into my corner, but the third spirit to visit this Scrooge-y author arrived this morning as I opened my inbox.  The subject of an email forwarded by my mother beamed: "Attention, Writers!"  It was a reminder for an annual statewide writing contest that I'd submitted to in the past.  Can I not have a moment's peace!?!

A part of me, the part that craves creatively organizing my myriad thoughts into print, got the message that I'd had my moment's peace and it was time to get back on track.  I remembered that I'M interested in how to make mayonnaise and why I don't have a "real job"...and a host of other things for that matter. And I remembered that I write as much for my own outlet as I do to benefit "the audience".

So with a bit of trepidation, I logged back in to once again post my musings on the web.  I prefer not to think of it as having had writer's block so much as having taken a walk around the block -- as in for fresh air and to clear my head -- which everyone knows is a good thing every now and again!

Garden Tour

April showers have brought May flowers…and the vegetables are following suit.   A momentous day arrives each spring when we can officially “plant the garden”.  Leaving our fears of frost behind, we set out with tools, seeds, and transplants to organize the mulch-covered plot into rows and blocks.  Unlike the cold frame that has been steamily growing cool-season crops for weeks, the garden has been home only to the garlic, asparagus, potatoes, brassica transplants, and pea shoots.  All that changed on Monday.  A handful of the family members bent and stretched, dug and watered, sweat and ached. But it was worth it!

Eat Your Weedies

Weeds & Greens

Anyone who has planned a community event knows that people will show up if there’s food.  Better yet, throngs will appear if the food is free.  Until recently I assumed this was a cardinal social rule…but I've discovered an exception.  Imagine a garden growing in a neighborhood.  It doesn't have to be planted, fertilized, watered, or cultivated.  Sadly, it grows and decays each season without much more than a passing glance or aggravated huff from the humans that share its habitat.  Why?  Because this garden is hidden in plain sight.  It is the crabapples that litter the sidewalks, the dandelions that riddle the yard, the burdock burrs that tangle Fido’s fur, and the green haze that carpets the forest floor.  Somewhere between the passage of time and the progress of society, the wild plants around us have been demoted from life-giving nourishment & health to pretty ornamentals at best and noxious weeds at worst.  I've always appreciated this garden, but now I’m beginning to study it.  Like a preschooler looking at the jumble of letters that fills an encyclopedia, I’m facing the overwhelming excitement that is the plant world in my own proverbial back yard.  Plant by plant, part by part, one culinary and medicinal use at a time, I’m learning to utilize the wild garden around me.  I don’t have to be an expert, I just have to begin.  I’m writing to share that you can, too!

Cold Frame Update: There's a Radish in My Salad!

February 17th

In chilly February, Weldon and I planted a variety of seeds into our first cold frame.  In chilly March we hovered searching for tiny emerald shoots to emerge under the glass roof.  For weeks we watched as erratic temperatures and sporadic sunshine struggled to coax our radishes, kale, chard, spinach, and beets from the soil.  Now April is here...and it's still pretty chilly. Thankfully, a good warm rain last week and a few days of bursting sun did wonders for our adolescent veggies...

April 7th

Paste, Powder, & Pearly Whites

For the past two weeks I've been miserably consumed by the banal efforts to recover from dental surgery.  In all my years I've never spent so much time thinking about, let alone coddling, my mouth.  I went in for a routine appointment to remove my two lower wisdom teeth.  I came out with a golf ball in one cheek, a chunk missing from my jawbone, and bruising that a prizefighter would be proud of.  After nearly fourteen days of mushy foods and lethargic couch conquering, I’m finally feeling like myself again (despite the creepy stitches and cavernous divots in the back of my mouth).  It seems only right that after all this oral pontificating, I launch back into the blogosphere with a post about an old school dental product that’s making a comeback with homemade health nuts like me: Tooth Powder!  You may wonder why in the world I’d go to the effort to make my own tooth powder when convenient tubes of paste line the shelves of any grocery.  What on Earth could be so bad about the minty goop that advertisements promise will kill germs, fight plaque, and blindingly whiten my chompers?  Later in the post, I’ll get into why I've chosen to ditch conventional toothpaste (even natural varieties can be questionable).  For now, let’s take a look at how a few inexpensive ingredients and less than five minutes of effort can boost oral hygiene to a sparkling level.

We All Scream for Ice Cream

Ice cream in March?  I have a medical excuse.  No, really!

Two of my wisdom teeth have been displaying such interesting contortions that my dentist insisted an oral surgeon remove them for exhibit in the dental hall of fame.  Lucky me!  I have an appointment for tomorrow.  In preparation for my open-mouthed marathon, I've been busy making a few healthful, nourishing dishes that I can consume (a.k.a. slurp) later this week while I hide from admiring dental enthusiasts (a.k.a. recover at home with ice packs strapped to my cheeks). Unfortunately, ice cream has yet to be lauded as a top ten health food, but I decided to add it to my list of recovery foods for this week.  I'm posting my favorite homemade custard-based recipe, comprised of (mostly) nutrient-dense and delicious ingredients.  There's plenty of good stuff in this sweet delight, so I have no qualms about eating it for this "special" occasion.  Besides, the soothing cool will be a welcome relief from the throbbing of my hole-y lower jaw.

P.S.  As a springy St. Patrick's Day spin, I've added organic mint flavoring and mint chocolate sandwich cookies to the classic vanilla base.  Get creative as you customize the ice cream flavors to your personal and seasonal favorites!

Reading: Research or Recreation?

It's hard to justify a post about reading when it's 70 degrees outside and the sun's Siren call is beckoning many of us.  Attempting to live up to its schizophrenic reputation, March came into Kentucky as a roaring ice and snow storm last week and threatens to bring rain and freezing temperatures by tomorrow.  But sandwiched between these blustery spells has been a slice of heaven bringing the promise of paradise on the other side.  Last week's winter wonderland (the worst this season) had me snuggled seven-layers deep on my couch.  I spent hours reading, savoring the sedate activity before spring's bustle of activity catapults me into the kinetic and outdoor world.  In my opinion, reading is an oft-overlooked element of the auto-didactic, do-it-yourself lifestyle.  It is a fundamental homestead skill.  Blissfully, I blur the lines between research and recreation.  I admit I rarely have time for many of the bestsellers or latest novels, but works on How-To, witty philosophical musings, food, nature, and even classic literature keep me plenty busy.  I have an unending list of titles I'm eager to keep churning through.  I make time to read just like I make time to grow my garden, cook from scratch, or care for livestock.  The homesteading two-step of researching and doing is just that, a dance in which two indispensable partners must find their rhythm without overpowering each other. I don't consider reading a luxury; I consider it a gratifying requirement of the lifestyle I've chosen.  Despite the frenetic pace in which most of us live, there are subtle ways to lace the schedule with a good read.  So, dear readers, bear with me: Below are my tongue-in-cheek tips for How to Read.

I Can't Believe It's Real Butter!

I can think of a few bedazzling achievements from the 1980s:  the hair crimping iron, Hammer pants, the Back to the Future movies, Swatch watches...and yours truly!  On the other hand, there are a host of notable disasters from this quirky decade. One such product will remain nameless, but is the antithesis to this week's post hero -- home-churned butter!  With the advent of shelf-stable vegetable-based substitutes and the vilification of dietary fats in Western culture, for over seventy years butter has been squeezed out of its rightful place as a nutritional staple.  However, the tides are turning as trans-fats and processed butter substitutes are being exposed as health threats.  Instead, real butter from pastured cows is being recognized as a rich source of Conjugated Linoleic Acid (CLA), beta-carotene, Omega-3s, selenium, and Vitamins A and E.  But it is another member of butter's myriad assets that is currently making nutritional headlines: Vitamin K2.  Scientists are finding that K2 in grassfed milk butter is essential for keeping bones healthy and arteries clear from calcification, among many other benefits.  How's that for a reversal of the notion that butter clogs the arteries!?  As we continue to recover from the many oddities of the 80s, I'm thrilled that butter is back on the menu where it belongs.  For a more thorough look at good vs. bad fats and why healthy fat is our friend, see the "Food" tab on my homepage. Also, please read more about Vitamin K2 and its integral role in our diet.  Now for the fun part -- the simple steps to making delicious, homemade butter.

Keep it Simple, Seedling!

I can't help but smirk when I hear the words "simple living" because the phrase and reality are as similar as black and white.  When the woodstove won't draw properly, the milk sours before there's time to make yogurt, the weather doesn't cooperate with drying the laundry, and "fast food" must be made from whole food ingredients that act more like Eeyore than Speedy Gonzalez, it can be really difficult to find the "simple" in the life we've chosen.  In some respects, there's very little that is actually simple about homesteading...which is why Weldon and I are finding it imperative to follow Simplicity as a guiding light.  My husband likes to call it "lazy", I prefer "efficient".  With each passing year in our farming and homesteading experience, it seems we aspire to be even "lazier" in our ventures ("more efficient", really).  All the while, we remain unwavering in our ideals. With so many worthwhile endeavors to engage in, it's not difficult to recognize the predicament and to concede that perhaps the lazy/efficient way of doing things is the most likely to yield fulfillment and balance in the bigger picture.  There's already an element of hard, why make it any harder?

And so, I'm only slightly hesitant to admit that Weldon and I are evolving into lazy (though passionate) gardeners.  Why till?  Why weed?  Why fertilize or spray?  Our gardening priorities have become whatever is low-maintenance, high output, and keeps the soil, microbes, plants, and us happy.  We both love to grow things, we just don't want to work overly hard at something Nature is pretty adept at doing already.  This year, we decided to turn part of our stubby, sandy anti-yard into a few raised beds for cultivating vegetables and herbs.  Along with our existing container gardening, we are trying our hand at year-round growing (a la Eliot Coleman's books) and using a methodology called square-foot-gardening (a la Mel Bartholomew's books).  Our previous seasons of experience with hay mulching and composting are leading us toward a system that will ideally keep weeds at bay, soil nutrients high, pests to a minimum, and good-eating to the max. Though the forecast this week says it's still winter, Weldon and I spent part of last week renewing our friendship with soil and seeds!

The Accidental Valentine

Note to Weldon...with my lobster magnet

I wanted to fill a Valentine post with delectable recipes for two and budget-friendly sweetheart celebrations, but the topic that ended up feeling right was how Weldon and I stumbled through last week and found that our love was laced throughout it.

Formulating our plan for Valentine's Day this year was like trying to choose the captain of a basketball team from a group of computer geeks and art students.  Nothing seemed like a good fit for our tight budget and tighter schedule.  Although we don't make a huge deal of the day in a conventional roses/dinner/teddy bear sense, we try to pick a fun way to conscientiously celebrate our love. But an all-star option wasn't showing up for this season!  Because we rarely ever celebrate on the 14th, last Monday hit like a buzzer on the clock.  Time was ticking and the outlook was grim.  In reality, the alarm woke us before daylight and we set into our usual routine -- make breakfast, pack lunches, stoke the fire, and get Weldon on the road by 6:30.  Somewhere in the middle of all that it struck me that it wasn't just any Monday -- it was February 10th! On that day six years prior, Weldon had taken me on our very first date.  As I voiced my happy realization from the kitchen, Weldon appeared holding his blue Irish cable-knit sweater.  He'd chosen to wear it for the first time this season as his weapon of choice against the freezing temperatures.  Coincidentally, he'd also worn it on our date.  (Queue the collective "Awwww" from the audience!) Thus began our Valentine celebrating...a lovely week with a mind all its own.

Winter Walk

Sometimes winter weather is best enjoyed with a cold nose, red cheeks, clompy boots, a good hat, and a buddy to walk with...

My Friend

The sun shone and the wind was pleasant for the better part of the day yesterday. I ventured out in the yard to hang my laundry and gather kindling before the forecasted rains.  The striking contrast to our winter weather was so invigorating that my entire being swelled with the tease of spring.  The garden came to mind with my first slow gulp of warm air.  Ordinarily, I'd be leaving a layer of outer wear in the house and rolling up my sleeves to get into the dirt on a day like that.  But I was distracted...troubled even.  As I populated the line with clothespins I thought about people, community, and friendship. Two years ago Weldon introduced me to the mother of two of his high school friends.  She lived alone not far from us on a beautiful secluded farm and kept herself busy with livestock and gardening.  She heard Weldon had taken the plunge into alternative agriculture and looked him up in search of a few resources.  The three of us met at her home for homemade pizza and talked until late in the evening about all things homesteading and farming.  We all could tell there was an enjoyable acquaintanceship brewing.  A few short months later she called and preemptively asked for some assistance in the coming months -- she had just been diagnosed with late stage cancer.  There are many reasons why I've chosen not to clock-in at a conventional career or to structure my life in a "normal" fashion.  I just never realized that something like this would be one of them.

From Russia with Love

Heritage Day is one of my fondest memories from 4th grade.  Each student delivered a cultural presentation about one country from their family's ancestry and brought a traditional dish to share. It's no mystery why I would love this day!  Beyond the smorgasbord of ethnic fare, I couldn't wait to dress up like a Russian dyevitchka (girl) and recite the dozen Paruski (Russian) words my mother had taught me.  As for my culinary offering?  She and I made pierogi -- the Russian equivalent of Italian ravioli, Jewish blintzes, Spanish empanadas, and Asian dumplings.  Stuffed with cheese, meat, mashed potatoes, or sauerkraut, these tasty demilunes of pasta are a delicious part of my family's past.  Recently, I asked my mother to come over and make pierogi with me...an endeavor I don't remember undertaking with her since Heritage Day.  Last night, after flour flying, water boiling, and butter sizzling, we sat down to a homemade Russian feast that was ochen horoshaw (very good)!

Sick & Tired of It

Last Tuesday, I sneezed three times. On Wednesday I didn't have enough pep to finish my day’s work.  On Thursday it actually  hit -- I was drippy, droopy, scratchy, throbby, runny, and moving at a snail’s pace with a box of tissues as my constant companion.  I couldn't keep my eyes open for more than an hour at a time and when I closed them to rest, I wouldn't actually sleep because I was so uncomfortable.  Ugh.  I began to scan my herbal books for some tonics or teas that might boost my immune system, clear my sinuses, and soothe my general feeling of ick.  Of course, the kicker was that I had to find recipes with ingredients I already had on hand and that didn't need weeks to steep.  I didn't find a cure all, but I did come across some really handy options I intend to share.  The chicken soup with homemade broth that I’d coincidentally made earlier in the week was Step 1.  Step 2 was a tasty ginger-cinnamon-peppercorn-herb brew that went to work on my nasal passages while I sipped it every few hours.  In desperate need of something for my Sahara sore throat, I came across an odd culinary mixture that worked like a charm as long as I gargled with it every hour or so.  A Garlic-Onion-Honey rub helped deter the hint of congestion that began settling in my chest.  Last, but not least, I sealed my puny visage with chilled "rice" socks: one covering my throbbing eyes and another splayed across my tender shoulders.  If I've ever assumed the stance of a femme fatale draped on a quilted couch, it was probably then…minus the makeup and perfect hair.

Home Improvement

For the past three years I've been devouring books, magazines, websites, and conversations to aid me in designing my dream home – a cabin-y cottage equipped to be our family’s homestead hub.  Until we’re ready to build, Weldon and I are living in a glorified garage.  It sounds a bit off kilter, but I assure you, our 1,200 square-foot shop building is an absolutely wonderful home…even with plywood walls, a concrete floor, metal ceilings, and a trailer-sized roll-up door.  Recently, it began to dawn on me that I've spent so much effort defining my future ideal that I haven’t given full attention to my current dwelling.  So, having made peace with staying where we are for at least another two years, I set out last week to look at our space with fresh eyes and renewed vigor.  Saturday’s grand finale was a John Deere tractor rolling toward my door with a piano dangling from its pallet forks.  Yes, you read that right.  All I can say is, “It was a good week.” 

Calm Before the Storm

For obvious reasons, I was never a Boy Scout.  And despite my thorough enjoyment of Tagalong cookies, I wasn't a Girl Scout, either.  Somewhere along the line I still got the message: Be Prepared.  This weekend our community was abuzz with talk of the coming weather (even more than usual).  A cold front was expected to change warm rain to a wintery mix to snow to below zero temperatures within just a couple hours' span on Sunday night.  Unlike northern climes that brave subzero readings and copious amounts of snow for months at a time, our area isn't used to this drastic an arctic dip.  Of greatest concern is our region's propensity for ice.  The Ice Storm of 2009 left thousands without power for weeks (in addition to the millions of dollars of damage).  Though that event was certainly the extreme, it was an excellent lesson in being prepared. The current winter flare up is intensely cold, but nowhere near as catastrophic or long-lasting as in 2009 (thankfully!). However, one of the crazy things about weather is that it's hard to know beforehand how bad it's really going to be. Without getting all doomsday about it, Weldon and I like to take advantage of the calm before the storm with a bit of old-fashioned preparation.

A leafy welcome mat, thanks to swirling winds

 

...and so it begins.

Winter Hibernation

When the alarm went off this morning at 5:30 I rebelliously kept my eyes clamped shut and then rolled over in smug satisfaction.  The wake up call wasn't for me...Weldon was heading to work. Today would be the first weekday since summer that I would have the house to myself and nowhere else to be. Weeks ago I knew a day like this would come: the holiday train would come to a slow and screeching halt and the mounting list marked "After the Holidays" would stare me in the face.  Should I wash my refrigerator, schedule my appointments, cull the overflow from the cabinets, organize the spare room, or finalize the 2013 financials first?  D. None of the above. Late last night I decided that the list could (should) wait.  Instead, I defied the morning alarm's call to action and stayed in bed to watch the darkness outside my bedroom curtain become hinted with light and finally awash in a luminous gray.  As I lay there contemplating what the day, the week, the next twelve months might hold, I realized that this was one of the beautiful things that winter is really all about.