Bagging It

Hello All!

For me the best part about large writing conferences and bookfairs (which I find noisy and exhausting) is the quality totebags given out as swag. I now have a sizable collection, and no excuses whatsoever for using paper bags at the grocery store. The problem is that Minneapolis insists that we separate our recycling with... paper bags. What do you all do?

While I've adjusted to using canvas bags for groceries, I haven't yet carried the habit over into other types of stores, especially for more "fashionable" kinds of shopping like clothing. I feel bashful. Maybe I need to buy prettier tote bags for classier settings? Or just stop being such a wimp!

And I'm not fully weaned off the plastic veggie bags. Especially for wet things, like a bunch of greens or lettuce, I end up reaching for them. And also when I'm buying green beans, okra, or anything comprised of little pieces that need to weighed together. Do any of you bring small bags to the store for those types of things?

I have other eco sins I want to confess here, but bags feel like a good beginning. I'm really excited to have a place I can go for advice and motivation to mend my naughty ways!

XO,

Meryl

Hello ladies of homesteading:

In the interest of spicing things up, and community connection, particularly of the CSA sort, but others as well, I've invited Meryl and Emily to join the blog. Meryl has graciously accepted, and I want her to know that there is no pressure with posting--it's a leisurely space--and part of the impetus for current invitation is, of course, that conversation we've been having about meat-eating and being a "compassionate OMNIvore" and how one of us may have just returned to the fold of vegetarianism.

I want to add that I do not judge anyone for eating meat, do not disrespect that choice in the least. But I also believe I would be more comfortable with eating meat if I could be assured that each meat-filled meal were like our Thanksgiving meal, the one with the free-range organically-fed turkey, but I can't, and it's more exhausting to do that than to simply divert myself to the vegetarian option. That, and it forces me to choose a much healthier option when eating out. No more greasy cheeseburgers for me.

And I tell you, those images from Food Inc have really been haunting me--the chickens that cannot stand up because their breasts are too large and the cows who cannot walk but are cruelly forced to the slaughterhouse on hocks--I believe No Impact Man mentioned something about bulldozers and other frightful methods of getting the cows into the slaughterhouse, as a cow who cannot move on its own volition to the slaughter cannot be used for its meat, for fear of mad cow disease.

I mean zero disrespect to people like the farmers at our first CSA, who also had a meat CSA, focusing on chicken and turkey. Those turkeys were truly free-range; I had to drive up that dirt road with serious caution.

But I just can't anymore. I can't trap mice in the winter and I can't eat meat. I'm happily surprised at how the shift has occurred--I wanted it for some time, but, like relationships, it seems it happens when I'm looking away. I fell in love with the man who became my husband nearly eleven years ago when I desperately did not want to be in a relationship, and I've stopped eating meat when I threw in the towel and decided I wasn't ready yet. It's only been--what--something like three days--but like I keep saying, it feels permanent. As permanent as eight years can be, anyway. Maybe as permanent as more. Maybe as permanent as, well, permanent.

Conscious carnivores

Culinate always makes me want to live in Portland.

Conscious carnivores, ethical butchers are changing food culture | FOODday - OregonLive.com

no more meat?

I was vegetarian for something like eight years, right when I met the man who would become my husband. And that was how I was, and it was perfectly natural for me to be a little difficult dining company when meal preparation was concerned, but it was me, who I was, where I was.

Now I'm in a program where two of my closest friends are vegan, and being vegetarian is not strange or even unique. Those eating habits remind me of what I forgot when I saw those chicken leftovers from the previous night's Chinese take-out: what made me start eating meat again was the waste, my husband's eschewing of leftovers, and what's leading me back to not eating meat again: the waste. I can't really blame my husband: we're both products of our upbringing, and I come from a paternal grandmother who would rinse paper plates to save them and stretch wilted lettuce into several meals, a family where the father is a leftover machine, and these are natural, exactly comfortable in that interaction with food. The philosophy Ryan comes from, I believe, is also good: he does not have to eat what he despises, what is distasteful, and this kind of consumption doesn't become a beastly chore. Dinner time is family time; he comes from a family that sits down at the dinner table together and shares. We have to adjust to our own comfort levels, decide what our values are, and push to those.

Tonight, my husband peeled open four hamburger patties and plopped them into a skillet. As I was pushing the meat around, the fat beginning to pool, I realized I had no appetite for this. I pulled out some flat noodles and made a little fettuccine for myself. We're back to two-skillet meals.

Is this permanent? I feel guilty at being so wishy washy, toying with the idea, threatening, backing off. But inside my mind, it does feel like I stepped across something tonight. I may have already accomplished my fifth goal of my homesteading top ten already. Hmm.

I've decided to test it for a week--to purposefully go veggie for a week--and assess, evaluate, decide how it feels--right or not.

New York Times: "Therapists Report Increase in Green Disputes"

Battle of the Brushes

I sometimes feel like I'm fighting an uphill battle when it comes to greening our kitchen.  (Molly, I know you are in the same situation.)

DISHES:
For Christmas, I got a bunch of really great biodegradable sponges and scrubbies, in addition to some nice dish brushes.  I even ordered a ceramic dish soap dispenser from Etsy to keep by the sink.  After sticking the new tools next to the sink, I put the empty plastic dish scrubber (that holds the soap in it) under the sink and out of sight.  

= no more plastic for washing dishes!

Or so I thought...

I'm getting used to squirting a pump of soap on the dish and using either a washcloth or scrubbie to wash it with.  Turns out, this process doesn't work well for Lane.  He prefers the convenience of having the soap in the brush.  For crying out loud!  I had to sigh and look away when he pulled out the old plastic brush and filled it with soap tonight.  The old plastic brush that is so used that the bristles are totally smashed and in need of being replaced.

= the reason I wanted to migrate to something more eco-conscious, so we don't have to keep throwing away the brushes after they are used up (even if it does take us months to get to that point).

PAPER TOWELS:
I've conceded to having 1 roll of recycled paper ones under the sink.  Only one roll at a time, always recycled.  Depending on what they're used for, I try to compost them.  I'd much rather get rid of them completely.  


TISSUES:

Facial tissues are a whole other matter, for another post, at another time. 

new year's status update #1

A few thoughts on my top ten:

7. To revive my vermicomposting bin. Right now, there are five hard-working worms. They feel so very lonely.

That's the worm poo I harvested this autumn, pictured right up there. It's awfully rich; I can't wait to see how well it improves things in our humble plot.

I ordered another batch of worms and they are on their way. I have to stay especially close to the door during mail-drop time as the temperatures are below-freezing in our parts on a regular basis. No one wants a batch of dead worms, even if they are easily compostable. Ryan reminded me of how un-thrilled he is to have a bin of worms in the dining room, but he remains tolerant. I picked up a book called Mike McGrath's Book of Composting, and I still have the vermicomposting book Chris passed along.

8. To have another successful garden. To order from a seed catalog. To learn more about heirloom varieties.

I've recently subscribed to Organic Gardening, which, admittedly, you can get online as well (but then how do I financially support the endeavor?), and I've been thinking a lot about what I want to plant this summer.

So far, I'm thinking: we have the raspberry bush and the zestar apple tree, both of which are improving each year exponentially. I'd also like to get a good crop of asparagus and strawberries, but I have a bit to learn there. For the rest, I'd like to try hops, and I'd also like to return to: summer squash, zucchini, carrots, brussels sprouts, lettuce, onions, beans, peppers, and eggplant. Those are the vegetables that have been most successful and consumed the most. There are years when I overwhelm myself with a long list of what has gone into the ground and not enough survives. This time, I want to focus, to spend a little time each day in that dirt, perhaps even experiment with containers (which is how I started gardening, and I had some decent success) for more delicate plants, etc. I also feel abashed to admit this, but we usually would get our seeds from the corrals at Menard's. This time, I want to be more mindful with the seeds, and I certainly want to learn more about heirloom and how to be more sustainable. It would be wonderful if I could get to the point where I could do a seed swap with my friends.

PS: I love that the number-one bestseller at Powell's is Michael Pollan's new book. :)