Monday Musings.

Self-sufficient.  Self-sustaining.  I wonder, is sufficient enough?  Is sustaining just the minimum?  Should we be self-thriving?  There are times when I feel that this is all such a struggle, and what is it for in the end?  I think that part of the joy for me is the process - the learning of new things; the challenges.  Can I stop at the store and buy a bottle of vanilla extract?  Of course.  But I would rather make my own.  A lot of the things I have learned have been out of necessity.  I am a one-income family and my time is spread pretty thin.  That combination is ripe for self-instruction!  I can't call the vet for every injection, so I learned how to do it myself.  Clogged drains, rodent problems, plumbing problems, holes in the wall, broken thises and thats, I call me. 

I am not a doom-and-gloom, end-of-the-world type.  I am ever hopeful.  A long time ago, I decided that this type of outlook was way healthier for me and I'm sticking to it.  I have gone through a lot to get where I am today, and I would like to think that I am getting close to self-thriving.  I would like to think that I am pretty much up to any challenge - because I'm not afraid of failing.  Joel Salatin gave a great example in his latest book about a baby just beginning to stand on her own - she struggles up on her own two feet, then teeters and falls back down.  Her parents and grandparents cheer her on - they are so proud!  Do they say, "Rosemary, if you can't stand up correctly, just go sit down".  (I am flagrantly paraphrasing).  It seems to me that we all tend to lose our cheering section as we get older.  Hell's bells - if you don't have one, create your own cheering section!  There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of what you can do, no matter what it is.  I don't trail regrets behind me like Marley's chains because I believe that things happen for a reason.  Sometimes that reason eludes you for years...other times, it's pretty obvious.  If this path I've chosen becomes an onerous and unhappy trek, then I'll stop and reassess.  Otherwise, I'm going to enjoy the journey and any twists and turns still left in it.

Preachin' to the Choir - Why it's good for your soul.

I ran across a glowing tribute to Joel Salatin's book, "Folks, this ain't normal" on a blog (and darned if I can  find it now - pipe up if it was you!) and thought that it was perfect timing for me to read something that spoke my language.  99% of the political speeches broadcast over the airwaves sure don't.  Many family members and some friends think I'm nuts to live like I do - and do the things that I do.  And since I've been feeling a little like the can that's kicked down the road lately (do kids kick cans anymore?), reading this book has been a tonic.

One of the (many) things I like and admire about Joel Salatin is his belief that it is a good thing to read opinions that are contrary to one's own.  I cannot agree more (although, I do draw the line at Rush Limbaugh).  And, while I don't agree with everything Joel Salatin does, I do agree with almost all of what he believes.  I can't recommend this book highly enough.  It's an eye-opener for those who don't fully grasp the true meaning of being environmentally 'friendly'.  And, in a way, it's a startling presentation of how far away we are from being sustainable, safe, and normal.

On the dust jacket, the New York Times (a paper I no longer read - it's gone off the deep end and the typos are atrocious) touts Joel Salatin as "The High Priest of the Pasture."  After shouting "Hallelujah!!!" after each chapter, I couldn't agree more.

Monday Musings.

I went to open a can a couple of days ago and it took me forever to locate my can opener.  I realized that I haven't opened a 'can' can for months and months.  All this cooking from scratch and putting up my own has just crept into my life and taken over!!!  What a nice thought.  I just had the last of my chicken and rice soup this past weekend and will have to can some more.  There is nothing like it - just the right amount of seasonings, you can make it ricey-thick or brothy-thin.  I have the comfort of knowing that, if the zombies take over everywhere else, I will be just fine for quite some time.  And I have to agree with OFG on who the real zombies will be/are.

Another topic high on the Musing List is that there seem to be either Givers or Receivers in the world, but very few who can both give and receive.  I have friends (you know who you are) who are very happy to give me almost literally the shirt of their back, but, when it comes to receiving anything in return, you have to chase them down, tackle them and force them to take it.  I mean, really.  That comes to receiving compliments gracefully - something with which I am completely uncomfortable.  You know the type:  "That shirt looks wonderful on you!"  "What, this shirt?  OMG it makes my arms look fat!"

Back in the OL (Other Life) in Ohio, I ran with a wild crowd.  It was not unusual for us to gather for unfettered nights of ....bowling.  Now, these people were very serious about their bowling.  I found that being serious about bowling was sort of an oxymoron, but they tolerated my flippant attitude and complete lack of talent and athletic ability.  I imagine it was because I was always the one who had everyone over afterwards for food and drink.  However, one night shines out in its own fabulous light.  The night I won a prize for my bowling.  Not only was it a prize, but it was the only such prize every bestowed by this particular bowling alley that we frequented.  I won the "Worst Adult Bowler" prize!  It was a bottle of Cold Bird.  This, for you wine aficionados not familiar with the more obscure vintages, is about seventeen levels below Cold Duck.  Which is about twenty levels below Asti Spumanti.  Which is about another fifteen levels below cheap bubbly wine.  You get the picture.  I wore this badge proudly.  But it became a game to see who could get rid of the bottle by foisting it off (unbeknownstly - word?  should be) on someone else in the group.  We referred to it as "Pass the Bottle".  That bottle of rotgut made the rounds for over a year.  It was slipped under dog beds, left in the back seats of automobiles, disguised as other objects that were not as disagreeable - at one Halloween party, the passers had wrapped it up in swaddling cloths and left it, to all intents and purposes a small, stiff baby, on the hosts bed.  Sadly, it was accidentally dropped on a patio during a rather rambunctious summer cookout, and that was the end of that.

A Walk in the Woods with Euell.

Risking a major jinx, I believe the Dreaded Winter is behind us.  I am not kidding myself that I have spring to look forward to -- we will just get deluge after deluge, then it will be hot and humid.  Apparently, that is now spring.  But things are starting to pop up.  GREEN things (gasp).  And this is the time I pull out my old faithful, new-to-me copy of Stalking the Wild Asparagus.  My original copy - purchased when I was a freshman in college (no, not the original edition, thank you, but darn close) - had been held together with tape, then packing tape, then duct tape.  It finally bit the dust when a cat knocked it off the bookshelf and the pages went their own individual ways.  I love this book.  For me, it makes every spring and summer a great adventure - trying to identify wild food. 

Thanks to Carolyn Renee at Krazo Acres, a blogger that I follow, I am now on the lookout for Henbit.  I also have my secret morel patch that I am hoping is still there next month.  And there are so many other wonderful groceries on Mother Nature's shelves that I haven't yet tried.

What is your favorite go-to book on foraging for wild foods?  What treasures have you come across?

How lunch became fun.

I pack my lunch every day.  I don't think I can count on one hand the times that I have actually purchased lunch at work.  This is because I am very, very cheap frugal.  I just cannot pay over $7 for a mediocre salad.  Besides, I do try to be as self-sustaining as I can be.  But, I will tell you, the joy and novelty had gone out of my lunches some time ago.  Around the time that the excitement almost completely died (it's very difficult to be virtuous every day), I also started re-thinking plastic.  With all of the dire reports of cancer-causing elements leaching out of your mild-mannered plastic food containers, I thought it would be a good idea to look at alternatives.  Glass or Pyrex containers were at the top of my list - until, that is, I realized how heavy they were and there was the chance of breakage.  I am rather infamous for dropping things.  Googling around one day, I came across the Tiffin boxes.  Almost perfect! (Although you cannot microwave the container, you can always put the food on a plate and microwave that.)  I ordered the three tier model pictured above, and romance and excitement has re-entered my lunch.  Today, for example, the bottom portion held a delectable piece of chocolate zucchini cake, thanks to my friend Melanie.  The middle portion held my favorite Summer Squash Casserole and, last (or, first, really) my favorite summer salad - diced tomato, cuke, onion & feta cheese with a sprinkling of thyme & pepper.  Best of all?  There were local ingredients in every level - zucchini and eggs from Melanie's farm; zucchini, summer squash and tomatoes from mine, and carrots and scallions from my CSA.  Even the dried thyme was from last year's herb garden.  That was a satisfying lunch!