Strength in Spring

Thursday was the first day of spring. Hurray for glimpses of dawn, wherever we can find them.  Day 9 of official pandemic. Lots of things in the world are bleak, AND not immediately going to get better, but I don't need to tell you that. But friend, dear ones--remember Aslan's montage of "Courage, Dear Heart(s)." 

Right now, this week planting seeds seemed like both the simplest and one of the most important things I have ever done. Here in eastern Wisconsin, where our frost date can be quite the gamble, the fact that most things can now be begun indoors (skip the squash, melons and tomatoes) was a grace. Cali helped and she's been very dutifully watering them. She did say that, "it's much better to plant seeds because then you get to watch them the whole way, otherwise you are just watching them go in the ground. I'm trying to be a better, more attentive gardener and learn from past mistakes. So here's some tips I'm incorporating if you want to plant along. Also, start SOON. I'm already encountering multiple seed sites that are selling out or partially or totally closed. 

Tip 1: Buy/swap great seeds

Here are some great options: 

https://gardentowerproject.com/product/garden-towers-container-seeds-collection/ (Great starter variety pack)

https://www.kitchengardenseeds.com/seed-index/collections/itty-bitty-veggie-garden.html (Really fun later season for small spaces and containers)

https://sustainableseedco.com/products/grannys-garden-seed-collection?variant=3719682850856 (For heirlooms) 

Tip 2: Paper towel pre-sprout

I'm trying this this year, after already having started many of my seeds but this is genius. The easiest way to kill your seeds is in those first few weeks when they dry out or mold. 

Tip 3: Sprinkle don't soak

For those first few weeks when your seeds are extra vulnerable try a squirt bottle instead of a watering can. You don't want them to get too wet and rot. 

Tip 4: Good potting mixture

There's lots of ways to go about this and it's true that vermiculite and peat are not the most ecological sources. Coconut fibers also travel a long way. However, these things are readily available at garden stores and not bad choices for beginners or quick starts. However, I'm also hoping to add this local moss product to help protect against fungal action in trial this year-- also super curious how this works out ecologically. It’s also cheaper to buy (if you don't have any available) and mix compost and topsoil with a small amount of sand. You can also plant in bags of topsoil directly. 

Tip 5: Grow lights

If starting indoors, don't skip this step. I'm trying out these.

Tip 6: Starter pots

There have been years when I have made pots out of toilet paper rolls or newspaper. While your kids are out, it could give them something to do. Perk is that you can start your seeds in bigger pots. However, the trays with the lids are convenient and do help keep good humidity. 

Tip 7: Grow up not out

There are lots of ways to accomplish vertical gardening, but when you get ready to transplant, (or you live some lucky place that is already warm enough to direct sow, growing up helps to maximize space and sometimes reduces pests, or allows for more intensive plantings.  

What are you planting? How are you growing hope?

Roots + Wings

Flight. That was the theme all week. Against my mounting better judgement I got on one last Tuesday. But at that time the cases of the dreaded and looming COVID-19 were largely on the west coast in America. There were three cases in my home state. And one in the state I was going to. All seemed safe. Ish. But why was nobody talking about more aggressively the hidden spread (What if we are actually only catching 5% or less of the cases)? Or the exponential growth? I had a stopover in Minneapolis. A state I then learned had had six cases take off from the airport, on my airline. And yet there were no additional airport screenings. A grand total of two people, including myself, were wearing reusable washable masks. One lady wiped her bag and her phone; an abysmally low number of people left the bathroom in a rush without washing their hands.  

I was going back home to try to sort through some of my mother’s things as she died five weeks ago. 

The first day I drove in my rental car to go see my grandparents. A huge and magnificent red tailed hawk greeted me roadside, but darted swiftly off when I stopped for pictures. 

This is a place that will always feel like home. It’s where we will lay most of my mom’s ashes. In the region where she was born. Where her grandparents built a home and where they, and their parents, and their infant daughter are buried. I now know where we will put her marker. 

No blooms at my house in Wisconsin, yet. But in eastern Oklahoma grandma’s tulip magnolia tree was blooming. At night the forest was alive with frogs. And if I would have had a sleeping bag, I would have curled up on that ground—to feel, to be, the earth, vibrant and charged. To smell the sweetness of a new-old season in the song before summer. 

That morning the world had changed its tune. Pandemic. Flus, and plagues, and hot zones swirl in my mind. Fear and awe. Awe and fear. The world has become a moving target and we are all in the crosshairs. Quickly nothing becomes certain. 

I spend one evening at my mom’s house, much less time then I planned on, and then, unexpectedly, two anxious evenings trying to figure out how I was now going to get home. I, the traveler, coming down with something in my chest, am a liability to the cancer-stricken family of the friend I am staying with. We agree on this. We say tense and regretful goodbyes across the room at 3am. The air is restless. I leave before dawn and sleep for a few hours in the car. I wake to cops circling, like sharks. I move on. I don’t see my brother, or my dear friend, or my sister again, or finish any part of the tasks of clearing my mom’s house. 

O’Hare seems an impossibility. So after negotiations with rental car company, I will drive 2/3 of the way home. Then my darling husband will meet me to save costs. Our margin is small, but never have I felt more privileged, or more eager to be home. 

I have some extra time in Dubuque. I’m enticed by signs about Walnut Woods State Park.  I step out and almost positively hear a screech owl. It is an anomaly, since it is mid-afternoon. But clearly, reassuringly, they seem to do this when humans are not around, because it is my steps that bring silence in the soggy earth. In light of everything, this is a warm shawl. I breathe in, grateful and accepting, even if that was going to be the only gift this day were to bring. But then, a pair of cooper hawks swoops across, ten feet above my head. I breathe out. It starts to snow as I walk back. 

I meet my husband. Never have I been so happy to see him! But, we greet with distance. Because. And, what if? And, pandemic. We think we are in the winning demographic, but we wonder, could we preserve one parent, for posterity, for our children? My lung twinges. My heart aches. I return home to our daughter mysteriously coughing and increasing her nebulizer treatments.  

I get tearful though only for the first time when our church closes. 

Updates pour in. All schools will be closed starting Wednesday, per the governor. Things are changing at our university. And again tears as I walk by our students packing up to leave.

But Sunday we have a splendid day. We sing and play guitar. There is a gravity and a sweetness. There are songs. Our family does things we care about on Monday in the quiet of our country home. Red winged blackbirds return to my feeder. And two pairs of downy woodpeckers, a pair of mourning doves, and a pair of purple finches are frequenting the back porch. It is a good place to make a home. 

~

But in the outside world we know how hard it is to get things. Everyone shows up to empty shelves. Our world seems more interconnected and more fragile then ever before. Remember that food that travelled thousands of miles to get here? That FINALLY seems as fool-hardy as it should have all along. It shouldn’t stop with the realization though. 

As Ken Berlin says, “Our challenge now is to carry the gravity of the pandemic with us while continuing our work to solve the climate crisis and create a truly just and healthy future for all.” As all the numbers about lungs, ventilators, hunger, and bankruptcies swirl around us, I think we all have an obligation to live more locally and with a lot more intentionality. While many of us have the gift of more time with our families, even amidst very fluid and complicated circumstances, I hope we take the time to teach them something that matters. Can any of you for example find five wild edibles in your current area? Have you ever grown a single plant of your own food? Do you know how to catch a fish? Can your family cook something that doesn’t come from a can?

Hopefully it will prove more true that each of us by trying to live a little more simply, may help others simply live. We're in this for the long haul. More than ever I’m catching the need to let the land lead and teach. Maybe you are too? More than ever our small scale farmers and businesses are going to need our support. How can we live a little more local?

My efforts feel small, but in just a couple of days for the first time we’ve made fir syrup for coughs, homemade yogurt, and sprouted peas. Our first seeds are in jars, waiting for roots. 

Dinner. (A.K.A. Delighting in Disaster)

While it is certainly improving, rare impossible is the moment in my house when everyone is simultaneously seated, still, focused, and pleasant. Evan and I wish we could have such moments, especially at meals, more often. While the blogging world seems to magnify mostly perfection and that one perfectly panached cupcake, I often wonder how often they are just displaying their one percent.  In my life, at least, that is the way it seems to be. (In case you were wondering, frosting is, in fact, my complete nemesis). Meal times certainly have their share of stress. Even when we try and calm minds with a prayer, two kids are bickering before it even begins, then admonishing at high decibels because the other feels that they did it wrong. Someone is sneaking food. Someone is sneaking boogers. We are snarking. One son is walking around the table in circles incessantly, drinks are spilled, food is spit, someone doesn't like sauce or food touching or anything green or how the chicken is cut--Oy!

Oddly, this ritual is desirable. Even when it is a mess, it is mine. After an especially intense and lengthy season of our lives with grad school and too much work, and too many late hours, I admire that we try hard to have dinner together as often as possible. (Did you know that only 28% of Americans had dinner together seven days a week in 2003?). This table, where I can look simultaneously at the three faces, who in only moments are outgrowing my lap, is my treat. These tinies are my terroir; my land and my soil.

Unsurprisingly, there may be much to be learned from how the french create and even sanctify family dinner. In French Kids Eat Everything, I love the Food Rules. In a conversation with her friend she is reminded that north americans only see food as a commodity or fuel and consume it constantly and unmindfully. They live to eat rather than eat to live. Living in it's broader and best sense, of course, means hearing, enjoying, tasting, experiencing, fellowshipping.  But, really, how probable is all that with three small children?

In the book Karen Le Billon makes the assertion that the French never eat without putting a tablecloth on the table. She describes the joy of getting the table "dressed" and says that doing so and lighting candles has a "hypnotic effect on (the children) who spoke in hushed tones throughout the entire meal." In my own house it is also true. The kids are much more eager and attentive when they get assigned to "make the table more beautiful"  If they must put the silverware on, they also love adding adornments of candles or flowers. They love making celebrations, having feasts, preparing picnics.

We have also been playing little games at the table that nurture quietness and attentiveness to the words of others. Sometimes it is "bat ears" where one person has to whisper and everyone else cups their hands over their ears facing outwards to catch the whisper. Sometimes we also play telephone, passing silly phrases from one to the next. In small ways these games help us capture little bits of silence.

I'm working harder at savoring, not scorning, all of the moments and even the mess because, as I'm also reminded while it is too easy to just see food as fuel, it is also a love story.

Lately our seeds are started and we are waiting about six more weeks for our garden to start producing. Meanwhile here's one night's worth of dinner.

Salad

• shaved carrots
• fried shallots  $1.00
• mixed greens 3 cups $3.00

Roasted peppers with polenta

• 1 red pepper $1
• two corn cobs $2.00
• 2 summer squash $1.50
• 4 large carrots $1.00
• sun dried tomato polenta make your own $0.75

Pesto

• 0.75 lbs of pecans $4.50 (Checking pine nuts in the store this week, they were up to $20/lb. The pinion trees are facing some harsh realities).
• 6 large handfuls of basil (free from garden or indoor pots) or $4.00
• 0.5 cups olive oil $0.50
• 1 tbsp nutritional yeast $0.50
• 1/2 tsp sea salt

Total cost: $19.75
Price per person: $3.29

Mix pesto first by combing all ingredients in a food processor.

Shave one carrot for the light salad. Cube the remaining carrots, squash, pepper, and corn into chunks. Set broiler to low and cook pepper and corn for 7 min and squash and carrots for 15 or until they come out slightly blackened.

Dice the scallions. Next pan fry the scallions until crispy and the polenta in 1/4 inch slices for 4-5 mn each slide with pesto in pan halfway through.

Serve the pesto cold on top of the hot polenta and vegetables with the salad greens and scallions on the side.

Enjoy!

PS: What ways have you found to make peace at your table?

Stone Soup Rocks!

New development. Starting in August, we have been homeschooling around here. My newest hat is first grade teacher. There are many reasons why this made sense for us right now. I'm sure I will bore you with all of them soon enough. It is more demanding, but also more rewarding then I ever thought possible. So, a ladle of some of what I am enjoying the most? Those impromptu lessons that you can savor right out of books. Those connections from fresh food to fork. Using dangerous appliances and sharp objects. And watching some little boys cooking and taking ownership over that domain.

A few days ago the boys were begging me to read our antique copy of Stone Soup. Many versions of this story exist, but the one we have with the most comical illustrations is by William Furstenberg and Hans Wilhelm.

If you have never heard of this story it is a morality tale all about how all the people in the town are too greedy to share their surplus of food with some unexpected traveling guests because they fear those which they do not know. (Where else do we begin making peace then around our own tables?) The guests outsmart and guilt the greedy and piggish (pun intended) townspeople into bringing out all their stores of food from the ridiculous places they have hidden them, inside the cupboards, in the well, under the bed. . So one by one the concealed items are brought forward and plopped into the water and the cooperative effort ends up making, of course, soup.

My kids love this story. And it's a punchy lesson for grownups too. So on that day, THE KIDS decided to make up their own recipe for Stone Soup. (Mama helped, a wee bit). And it just so happens to be quite frugal, so we thought we'd include it here.

In a large crock pot add:
A handful of smooth well washed rocks (a crazy paranoid science mom, who checks those things, says don't include any of these... because I am sure that you keep piles of asbestos in your kitchen).

• 2 tsp of salt
• Pepper to taste, but leave out the pepper if you are seven 
• 3 Tbsp of rosemary ~ $0.50
• 4 Tbsp of oregano ~ $0.50
• half a cabbage ~ $1.00
• 4 diced carrots ~$1.50
• 1/2 a white onion ~ $0.75
• 5 diced potatoes ~ $1.75
• 1 lb of cured ham ~ $5.50
• 2 cups of whole milk or cream ~$0.74

Enough water to just cover all the ingredients. Set to cook on lowest temperature. When 30 minutes to hour is left add the milk or cream.

We just cooked our rocks in our soup. If you are sneaky or paranoid you can "magically" take the rocks out while the kids aren't looking and use a separate pot. My kids were really convinced they would, and rather disappointed when they didn't, melt. But, nevertheless, they still cooked and ate with atypical zeal!

For a yummy addition check out these honey breadsticks.

• water
• 3 Tbsp honey ~ $0.66
• 2 Tbsp of olive oil ~$0.20
• 3/4 tsp of salt
• 2 cups of whole wheat flour$2.56
• 3 tsp of yeast ~ $0.50

Fresh homemade butter for serving: $2.25
Serves 8. Total = $18.41
or  $2.30/ person

Mill to Market

To my knowledge there are no working water grain mills in Oklahoma. However, in visiting family in Arkansas in recent years one theme that has emerged is learning about old mills. Talk about innovations in sustainable energy!

The constant thumping is a reminder of the wheel slapping the water and pulling in bucketfuls of water to spin and make the internal wheel grind up grain. Watching the internal mill turn is mesmerizing to kids and adults alike.

Image in Public Domain.

Just beyond Oklahoma, near Rogers, Arkansas you can visit the fully operational War Eagle Mill where a fully functional water wheel grain mill operates on a site where this was first done in 1832. The lumber mill that was also formerly here provided most of the lumber to build most of Northwest Arkansas. Lessons in trials and tenacity can be learned from this business that washed away in 1848, was a source of strategic conflict between the Confederate and Union army before the Confederates burned it to the ground in 1862, and burning again in 1924. Despite historic hardships, in 1974 the mill was rebuilt. Today the Roenigk family continues to recognize the importance of this historic and sustainable place and through their business provides a market for local organic farmers, while continuing to provide healthy whole grain options for family suppers.

Enjoy the restaurant above the scenic river, admire the architecture of the bridge, bring a fishing pole, learn about outhouses. And while you are there make sure to go and visit the adjacent Hobbs State Park and their wonderful nature center.

Some other mills that are fun to visit:

• The historic Inn at the Mill in Fayetville where you can see the site of the oldest business in Arkansas.

• The Old Mill in North Little Rock. While this site is purely a historical fabrication, it still provides a great visualization about how these old mills worked and what buildings built in this region in the early 1800s would have looked like. The faux wooden sculptures and elaborate bridges created by Dionico Rodriguez are quite amazing. It captivates the imagination and also has stunning grounds maintained by the local master gardener chapter. 

Where do you like to go, in Oklahoma, or otherwise to visit historical agro-businesses? What do you love about stone ground grains?

"Bats in a Cave" with Fruit Salad

Sometimes we play with our food and make cheesy object lesson recipes. (What, you don't?) So we made some meatballs and then decided to turn them into bats. It goes with our cave theme. With a little ketchup you can make anything smile, at least that's what four year old Connor thinks. We peeled the carrots to look like the bones in the phalanges of the bat's wings. And in case you have an utter lack of imagination, I should inform you that the breadsticks decorating the plate in various sizes are to make stalactites and stalagmites. (Obviously). And also that some bats really like to eat fruit, and incidentally so do we!

 

Make some rolls. Get an early start two hours before dinner. We used the River Cottage Cookbook French bread recipe and just cooked it in strips at 400 for 12 minutes. The kids had fun making them different sizes.
Cost for 1 loaf bread: 
~ $3.96

Meatballs with wraps

• 1 1b beef ~ $6.75
• 1/2  lb carrots ~ $0.68
• 3/4 small cabbage head ~ $1.93
• 1/3 c oatmeal or flour (I used oatmeal) ~ $0.36
• 2 eggs ~ $0.34
• 2 1/2 T soy sauce ~$0.10
• 3/4 tsp powdered ginger ~ $0.10
• 1/3 onion sautéed ~ $0.50
• Splotches of ketchup for face

First saute the onion. Mix raw beef with oatmeal,  eggs, ginger, soy sauce and sauteed onion. Form into golf ball size balls.

Bake at 375 for 30 minutes.


Peel the carrots and peel cabbage in whole sheets.
After the meat has cooked use two meatballs for body and head, cabbage sheet for wings, and carrots for arm bones.

$10.76

Fruit Salad

• 1/2 small seedless watermelon (about 4 lbs) ~ $3.00
• 3 medium apples ~ $1.20
• Handful Chocolate mint (in my herb garden)
• 1 TBSP lemon juice

Mix right before eating. Enjoy!
$4.20

Total Menu cost $18.92 or $3.19/ each

Carlsbad Caverns

I have missed you! Life has been wonderfully busy. We had end of the school year festivities and lots of traveling. After a large loop through Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California, we are a little road tripped out. Relatives, camp, the beach, and minimal electronic devices- it was pretty great. One of our favorite stops was going to Carlsbad Caverns. It is a marvelous wonder. The scope and magnitude of it is matched by few other places. You should definitely go sometime. The boys were big enough they could walk this year. We went down through the big entrance and little lady rode in a baby carrier and nursed almost the entire way down. (I feel like I deserve an award for that one!) 

We weren't the only family of five out that day!

For the record, we made it up AND OUT before dawn. But somehow still missed the bats by about 10 min.

Thanks nice guy who took our picture.

At the entrance to the cave. It's A LOT bigger, farther, and steeper than it looks, but they didn't complain one time.

Oh, and these guys earned their Junior Ranger badges.