Time shifts and slips, cycles and renews, constricts and flows freely. Somedays time feels on track — everything in its own time, and all of that. Other days it feels short or whips on by. Our brains on remote control mode, held by a crazed monkey (why, a monkey? mischievous little guys…) or a duende — speeding us up unnecessarily or slowing it wayyy downnn, skipping ahead, rewatching the good parts, blocking the awkward moments.
The last couple of weeks have certainly made us focus on slowing down, but still…with kids, it always feels a little fast. Lately the Duende (with a capital D!) has been working more on her ‘quill writing’ and making ink from charcoal and beet juice, we got a nice snow in there somewhere and she decided to work on a fort, we took care of the very neglected ‘plant wall’ and cleaned up some derelict spaces, watched a flurry of Robins along with some little friends (the Cardinals, House and Goldfinches, Nuthatch, Titmouse, Chicka-dee-dee-dee’s, and Junco’s foraging rosehips, various berries, and seeds), danced and snuggled (she’s in love with the movie The Book of Life right now), and of course, played dead (both in the house, and the snow). Meanwhile — while the bread bakes, her fashionable self takes her to galleries (I love that picture! ha!) and antique places like the Hallowell Antique Mall, Another Man’s Treasure, and The Rusticators Emporium (a lovely day off playing ‘whats the weirdest thing you’ve seen’, results in Friday’s blog), where she buys velvet ribbons for her hair (like a Victorian gal).
This week’s increased speed with which we receive, approach, and go about our lives must be tempered by the grounding influence of Moon, Jupiter, and Uranus’s presence in stable and resourceful Taurus if we are to make the kind of progress we want to. The week starts out bold, desirous, and hopeful, and the excitement can be infectious, but we always have to remember the story of the hare and the tortoise. Blue skies are on the horizon and the Sun is coming out, but we have healthy boundaries, due diligence, and an enormous accumulation of information and knowledge to strategically implement if we are to bask gloriously and tranquilly in those golden rays.
We sure can be energized to tackle our tasks today, as long as there is some form of positive growth and enhancement that goes along with it. We sometimes do do do without thinking about how such doing is not necessarily getting us anywhere. Our motivation today is more focused on getting somewhere we have ideally been wanting to go. And this is not necessarily a physical location or destination, this is about our dreams, goals, and futuristic ideas.
What we may lose in this charged pursuit is the support of anyone who tends to follow rules and do things “by the book.” This is a rebellious aspect that warrants some classy misbehavior. Of course I am not endorsing harmful acts in any way, instead I am simply saying that we should not be afraid to step out of the norms of societal conditioning, because rarely does that get us someplace we have never been. In the words of Lew Welch, “Step out onto the Planet. Draw a circle 100 feet round. Inside the circle are 300 things nobody understands and, maybe, nobody’s ever seen. How many can you find?”
Duende’s new motto is “Grilled Cheese for Life” which might contradict with her obsession over pickles (and eating pickles with cheese, or yogurt, or really anything) but this kid lives in the mastery of contradictions. It’s generally a beautiful place full of art, dancing, crazy fashion, and laughter. Sometimes it is a messy place of dirty socks, doll clothes, marble runs, and art supplies. It waffles from pop anthems (Black Pink, Sia, & a lot of J. Lo lately) to Edwardian Farm (of the BBC historic farm series/documentaries).
Last week she learned to knit (thank you Fish!), and this week she is practicing her cursive with a quill and ink (she likes to make her own ink, too). She is also crocheting a fox, made cupcakes, is planning her summer art series in her Crow’s Nest, and whipped up a Boxelele that almost really plays (I think she’s moving on to a cigar box uke this week, she has the plans). The snow is already ice and there is more snow on the way, so I am still holding out for a sledding party!
Alas, alack, it seems our Imbolc dinner party is going to be canceled this year. We’ve had a roughly annual gathering for almost 10 years now so I am so sad that we can’t just figure out how to work it with our new shop/baking schedule. It seems at some level this season, all of our celebrations are canceled by something or another. It is tough trying to have a life and a business. I am trying not to let it get us down but I can tell we are all worn pretty thin and have little to look forward to right now.
But there is snow coming and hopefully it will be the pretty kind to blanket us and keep us cozy and wintery. It is supposed to cool way down by the end of the week which I hope sticks around a bit (not that I care for the cold, but I care for all the things it allows — like hibernation for such things like maple trees, lilacs, and other assorted lovely things, I could use some hibernation…) so we can have a rebirth in the Spring.
I desire a little mending time, further garden planning (I’ve got Kavasch’s Medicine Wheel Garden book at the ready for coffee breaks), and arty reimaginings of this hibernation/rebirth scenario. I desire slow-cooked stews and warm buttered bread, tea with honey, soaking baths, and reading by the woodstove fire. I’m in article writing mode, working on developing a couple of little lectures for our pamphlet publishing (Rubble Books) — Punk & American Transcendentalism, Elemental Jaunts, perhaps a return to old themes (I was reminded today how I almost went to skool as an English major focusing on post war Japanese and German literature, and then worked on an art book on American eugenics), and Bread Philosophy.
I think the baker is dreaming of afternoons of bookbinding, tiny book making, poetry and coffee, maybe a little Scotch. His needs are pretty simple; he likes to chop wood, read books, listen to records. He’ll be getting ready to clean up the sugar shack soon so he can tap and boil sap to syrup in March. The kid will be happy to have some snow to dance and sled in (I don’t think we were able to have a sledding party/race last year — maybe we’ll be lucky this year!).
Until then, Doris (the starter) bubbles away and builds the beautiful breads. We will keep buying the small press books that make us think, put together gift baskets, and hope the woodpile holds out.
We were very fortunate to have travelled to Morocco when we were younger and stayed with extended extended family. We travelled with a Moroccan and got to see all the in’s and out’s of a couple of the big cities and some of the countryside. We visited Casablanca and Rabat, stayed in Mohammedia, took a crazy trip to Fez and then a train to Marrakesh, all in all spending about a month there.
Besides having a brief (but intense) bout of ‘Hassan’s Revenge’ for the both of us (and then grateful for separate beds in Marrakesh), our trip was amazing and we loved every minute of it. We visited old forts, many a marketplace (including Djemaa el-Fna), ate in palaces, toured ceramics makers, got henna, went to a Hammam (bathhouse), Jardin Majorelle, and a Fantasia performance.
And we ate, oh, we ate. All the things. Fresh clementines from the trees, market strawberries, street merguez, tajines full of meats and dates and prunes, couscous with piles of vegetables and choice lamb, chicken with olives and preserved lemons, local fish and seafood, sfinge, and even pizza with anchovies and olives, and plenty of orange soda. When the extended family would visit the States they would continue to make us miraculous treats like Bisteeya and more tajines.
Saffron, cumin, and cinnamon are the super combo that makes Moroccan food so dreamy and deep flavored lightened with lemony brightness. And they shine in the lusciousness of Harira — a fortified stew eaten generally in the fasting breaks during Ramadan. Meat, eggs, lentils, and garbanzo beans are the proteins while the noodles and thick broth fill you up. Flavored with parsley, celery, tomatoes, and onions, it is really hearty fare. I tone it down a bit by eliminating the lentils (and celery — mostly because I don’t have it on hand because I’m not a big fan), reducing some of the onion, and using canned chickpeas and tomatoes, and sometimes adding a bit of cilantro at the end. There are versions without the egg-lemon mixture but I don’t find them as interesting.
This is from Paula Wolfert’s original Couscous cookbook, a book I found by chance at Rivendell Books in Montpelier, VT a million years ago (ok, maybe 25) and use it often. I love Paula’s authentic processes though I adapt many that I make regularly to quicker versions. In this version I use lamb necks (salt on both sides). I heat ghee or butter with a little oil and add a healthy pinch of saffron, turmeric, ginger, black pepper, chopped onion and chopped parsley to the pot and stir until fragrant and the onions have softened, then I add the lamb necks to brown in the hot oil on either side. I pour a big can of fire-roasted tomatoes in, and then fill the can again and pour that in. Add 2 sticks of cinnamon, 2 cups of chicken broth and bring to a boil, then simmer with the lid askew for 1 and a half hours. I then add 2 cans of garbanzo/chickpeas to the pot, bring to a boil,adding fine soup eggnoodles. When they are al dente, I then stream in the lemon/egg mixture (if it goes to fast and doesn’t form long egg strands like she says, it is more like egg drop soup and is still delicious, don’t beat yourself up about it), while stirring constantly. I serve with a swirl more of lemon juice (or lemon wedges), and a little chopped cilantro.
The woodstove has been cranking, bringing in wood is a never-ending need these days but with the impending storms again, the wood crib needs to be filled (and we are really hoping we have enough wood this year — we should plan some holz hausen for next year!)
Time to make bath soaks and teas for gift baskets (and myself, I’ve a good supply of dried red clover, calendula, bee balm, st. john’s wort, rose hip, raspberry leaf, lavender, white pine, milky oats, and self-heal), with aluminum-free magnesium salts, sea salt, oat milk or powdered buttermilk, or clays (bentonite or kaolin)
Which also feeds into our health tinctures: I’ve set up st. john’s wort, hawthorn, evening primrose, and cleavers tinctures. i also have dried elderberry, mullein, and lemon balm for prevention
Reminding me I need to make toothpaste this week. I prefer just a coconut oil base with baking soda, charcoal, and a little tea tree oil…I feel so much cleaner. Sometimes when I run out I’ll try regular Tom’s Mint (sans flouride) and I can’t stand the sweetness or foaminess. I’m too lazy to make my own soap so I rely on the goodness of either J.R. Liggett’s for shampoo or my new local find Rabbit’s Foot Farm from the Augusta Farmer’s Market which is making me very happy
Grant and article writing for the week begins tomorrow…getting random ducks in a row or so. We’ve got some educational homestead plans to organize
We also have to plan our Imbolc celebration (my favorite festival), and a simultaneous art show from wild apotropaic at the shop (still much to do on the latter, many collective thoughts to unfold in a short span of time)
I’ve been looking into basket-making, especially for the baker. The banneton baskets used for proofing the bread dough wear out and they can be expensive so I’ve been considering willow or cotton substitutes (though I have to say, basket-making is not really high on my personal desires but it is a necessary thing that I could contribute)
And we’ve still yet to plan the gardens for this year — we’re doing a bit of an overhaul, especially since the recent storms have brought down what we thought were semi-permanent structures/trellis and fencing. I’m kind of excited about this, and daunted by the task. I dream of a little group of folks who want to sit around and nerd out on garden planning and drink foraged/herbal tea (hint, hint) — I picture a big table with all of our various maps, circles of cups in the corners, open landscaping books, seed catalogs, valuing the merits of companion planting, permaculture zones, and aesthetic desires…it’s a rich fantasy life I lead
Which leads to the final task of the week I should at least start — cleaning out the front porch/seedling room. Our essentially 2-season north facing front porch but outfitted with large shelves with heat pads and lights for starting seeds. J brought in an antique 2 bay washing trough/sink that I mix growing mediums in and use a couple of boards as a makeshift potting table on top of it. It works, sort of, enough but I need to start making some seedling decisions
Get crackin’. Let’s hope the storm doesn’t deter us (or fill the basement with water)…
(book at hand, on a snow day at home — actually, i pulled out Maxine Hong Kingston’s Fifth Book of Peace, and inside found a bookmark gift from years ago from the baker with his words which feel perfect right now…)
This time the quiet spaces that fall between like snow in a forest to cover the exposed ground as though from timidity
this time before you awake is the time when I try to imagine what I did to deserve this time
in the strange way that we have this is our independence the breath we take while the other is sleeping and it is enough
I know, I know, not really a thing, this ‘catching up on a Thursday’. It’s supposed to be recipe Thursday but maybe we’ll just do everything at once. That is certainly how it feels most days right now — how do we fit just everything we need to do in one day — we have finally added another day (two days off, together? that might be almost human)…maybe it should be ‘Catcher’s Mitt Thursday’. Cleaning up — laundry/dishes, arting, organizing, business planning, shopwork, grant writing, article writing, feed the fire, more laundry, garden planning, workshop planning, feed the fire again, meal preparation, maybe a dinner date?, more laundry…etc (did you do your Duolingo lesson today? ha!).
D has been dying for preserved lemons so we set her up to make her own batch. In a great pot or big jar, lemons, salt, lemon juice if needed — cut them into almost quarters, leaving an inch connected, pry them open and salt, smash them into the jar to release juices, salt some more, add more lemons until jar is full, salting in the crevices and on top, you can cut them into wedges if necessary to fill the gaps…and the most crucial element — time. They take about a month to get tender and ‘preserved’, then rinse them, remove lemon ‘meat’ and discard, and use accordingly to recipe or desire. Start another batch. She loves them best with green cracked olives, roast chicken, and Fregola.
J has been longing for this Roasted Butternut Pasta Sauce recipe he found so I made his dream come true. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Split and seed a whole Butternut Squash, crosshatch slices into flesh and then fill seed cavity with a whole head of trimmed garlic (just cut ends off), drizzle & dust all with olive oil, sea salt, paprika, and thyme sprigs and roast until tender (about 45 min. or so, fork test for tenderness — you want it fully soft but not mushy), remove to cool a bit. Cook pasta per directions (tagliatelle or paccheri style), drain but save a little pasta water. Blend in a processor the squash with the squeezed out soft garlic from their skins (discard skins) and 1/4 cup pasta water. In a saute pan, add a little oil and add sage leaves, sauteeing until crisp, remove from pan (set aside) and then add finely chopped shallot (cook for 2 minutes until translucent), then add 1/3 cup dry white wine, squash puree, 1 cup heavy cream and heat through, stirring until thick but still loose — saucy. Add 3/4 cup shredded parmesan cheese and stir in, save a little for garnish. Toss sauce with pasta, plate, add fried sage leaves and sprinkle parmesan. So freaking delicious (thank you Al Dante).
The child is doing her best Marie Kondo-workout today (and requests my assistance) on her room as I laze about and look up potsticker recipes. She’s cleaned out her art supplies (and ridiculous pencil collection), and old cardboard constructions (and even found some fun Kiwi crates to finish). It’s a rough life around here (yes, resplendent with bagel sandwiches this morning!). Yesterday, the baker had to go to work a couple of times for a bit each to prepare for his final class in this series (they are baking bread! much prep) which is tonite. I cleaned and arted (and actually managed to listen to a podcast, my 3rd in life so far) — it was glorious. It felt like the first time we’ve relaxed a bit in ages. I think we all actually slept (and had crazy animal symbolism dreams)! Now, if I can just get to the mending pile and the reading pile — egad.
I think for our belated anniversary date tonite, we’re going to talk big plans for a homestead/shop continuum, where it all comes together…sounds dreamy.
Rock Bottom Homestead 