Busting My Buttons
I know…I know…pride goes before a fall. Nevertheless, I am proud of some of my accomplishments that relate to living a more natural life. My husband’s eyes have rolled so far back in his head that he can see his own brain because he’s not so much into healthy eating, gardening, and natural medicine. He sees some of my efforts towards a more natural life as being expensive and messy. I just remind him that you have to break some eggs in order to make a cake. After all, I haven’t attempted beekeeping (yet) or tried to buy meat from a local farm (yet). And I’m not allowed to have chickens where I live….yet.
Moving onto an open and breezy prairie made establishing a small clothesline an easy start. I told some progressive friends that we were investing in solar and wind technologies. I don’t hang all our clothes on the clothesline, otherwise my unmentionables might end up in an adjacent housing development…it’s that windy. But I have enjoyed drying towels and pillowcases in the fresh air and sunshine. I have strong memories from a childhood of clothes flapping on the clothesline and I love the fresh smells. I feel nostalgic and very Earth mother when I go out to collect my clothes.
Like many Americans during a 2020 full of supply shortages and insecurities on many levels, I began to think of ways to be more self-sufficient. I’ve written previously about our big move across the country that same year, and certainly survival more than self-sufficiency was a hallmark of that endeavor. But I was excited to find established raised beds and several large whiskey barrel planters in our new backyard. The previous owner left some plants that were still producing in late September and I was intrigued by the possibility of growing a few things the next year. I had dabbled in gardening only once and that had been decades ago. I used some of our first long winter to study local soil, appropriate plants for our zone, and estimated planting times. I sketched out a plan for the beds and waited for the last snow to disappear off the local mountain….and then planted conservatively. I was extraordinarily proud of the little I harvested the next year, but it was pretty pitiful. I’ll add more detail about my gardening journey in another post, but since that first year I have become a more proficient gardener. Only one crop has eluded my sincere efforts….potatoes. That’s an ironic and embarrassing admission for someone living in Idaho, but there it is.
I’m currently attempting to develop a sourdough starter. There are hundreds of YouTube videos and information articles about how simple it is to start a starter. Unfortunately every resource tells you different things and the success of the endeavor is dependent upon so many variables. Perhaps the middle of a record cold winter might not have been the time to attempt that new skill. Oh, well, I’ll keep trying that one because I do want to learn to make sourdough sandwich bread. I have mastered making a homemade pizza dough. Since my picky eater husband doesn’t consider it a real pizza unless it is just pepperoni and cheese on a thin crust, I just divide one pizza crust recipe into fourths. I freeze three of the portions and cook one in a super hot cast iron pan to make a personal pan pizza, embellished with whatever toppings I want.
My daughter, whom I know for a fact could not cook anything but a boxed brownie mix when she left our home, is now quite an accomplished cook. She’s a homemaker with three little ones and makes her own sourdough bread, yogurt, soups, baked goods, etc. ( I have a sneaking suspicion that my real daughter was abducted by aliens.) Her expertise has inspired me, though, so just today I made a sheet pan full of the best granola I’ve ever had….a recipe she uses and shared. I also made a cream soup base mix to use if I ran out of some of those “cream of” soups we all rely on.
Since I retired I have been attempting to teach myself to cook. You know, real things such as a roasted chicken. (I am not above the tremendous bargain and convenience of a Costco rotisserie chicken…I just wanted to learn how to do it myself.) I roasted a butternut squash in order to make soup. I finally mastered making a good homemade lasagna, sometimes even with zucchini strips or spinach leaves instead of noodles. I have never been a foodie and I’m don’t enjoy a wide variety of ethnic flavors, but I am experimenting with some limited Chinese and Mexican dishes. I may never be a extraordinary cook, but I can often attain a rating of consistently proficient.