A Homemade Life

I enjoy living low on the hog. I was thinking about why this is recently, and I think that even though there were always glimmers, my conscious desire to live simply really kicked in when I was in high school. And as is so often the case with me, it wasn't a perfect slide into simplicity.

My oldest sister found out that she was expecting. This baby was going to be the first grandchild/niece or nephew of the next generation. Really a big deal for our family.

I wanted to commemorate this occasion in a big way, and because I was going to be an auntie for the first time, it seemed only natural that I should do something extravagant for the wee one. Plus there were so many months yet before the babe made its appearance that doing something big was totally within reason. I had the time, so now I just needed to come up with the perfect gift.

I thought and thought and then it hit me. I would make this new little niece or nephew an heirloom to treasure for a lifetime.

I would make a quilt.

Even as a young person I admired the hardy pioneer women who had given up luxury and comfort to follow the dusty Oregon Trail to a new and (hopefully) better life--a life they fashioned with their own hands and determination. I often thought about how these pioneer ladies grew the food that fed their families, chopped the wood that heated their homes and cooked their meals, and spun the fleece that would be turned into the knitted and woven fabric used to clothe and cover their loved ones and I figured these pioneer women wouldn't be intimidated by something as easy as making a quilt surely must be, so I set about my own project.

This was before the internet was a fact of daily life, before you could Google and find out everything you ever wanted to know about, say, quilt making. Oh, I had read The Whole Earth Catalog, and books with titles like Living the Good Life and Five Acres and Independence. But I don't recall ever studying up on how to make a quilt. Still, I'd read the Little House on the Prairie series and I felt confident that I could pull this off.

I decided that I would hand piece this heirloom quilt and then--of course--hand quilt it in minute and glorious designs. I'd seen plenty of pictures of quilts and so I began.

I went to a fabric store and had the presence of mind to buy cotton fabrics, but then undid all the good that came from that decision by failing to preshrink the pieces before cutting out my design, which consisted of a bunch of 4- or 5-inch squares that were quartered into triangles. Tiny pieces.

I chose some soft greens, yellows, and light browns (this was also in the days before ultrasounds) because I thought they looked nice together and would be fitting for both a girl or a boy.

For some reason, I thought that an heirloom quality quilt absolutely had to be pieced by hand and that using a sewing machine for any part of the process would somehow make the quilt less special. So I gathered my pieces of fabric, my needles, pins, and thread and got started.

I stitched and I stitched and I stitched some more. It seemed like no matter how many hours I put into the project I was woefully short of done. Nowhere near. Not even close. The months seemed to fly by and well before I was ready, my niece was born. Thoroughly demoralized, I didn't mention the quilt-in-process I had going. I honored the birth of my sister's baby another way and then pondered what to do with this unfinished quilt.

I thought and I thought and then it hit me. I would make a miniature quilt for my little niece to use with her dollies when she was a bit older. Now I was in business--I had the quilt top done thanks to the new size requirements.

This tale is a sad one. I persevered to the end, hand quilting it, although not nearly as heavily as I had at first envisioned. And the minute, even, and perfect stitches I had dreamed about didn't materialize because the sizing was still in the fabrics since I hadn't prewashed them and sticking the needle through the layers was difficult. When it was bound and completely done, I threw the sweet little doll quilt into the washer to get it clean before I sent it off. I envisioned the look of stunned delight and joy on my sister's face when she first set eyes on the beautiful gift I'd spent hours making for her daughter. But when I pulled the quilt out of the dryer, it had shrunk up so much that the pieced squares were puckered beyond redemption.

But even though my first quilt was a disaster--and even though I've had plenty of disasters since then--I was hooked. I loved the notion of starting "from scratch" and producing something useful for my family. And that philosophy for living a homemade life is still with me.

It's what causes me to hand grind my grain to make homemade bread, to plant a vegetable garden each year and can hundreds of jars of food from the harvest. It's why I sew and wear aprons and dresses and knit warm sweaters, socks, and mittens, why I love to hang the laundry outside and let the soft breeze and warm sunshine dry my clothes for free. It's what moves me to love wood heat above all other heat--even though the wood needs to be split and the wood pile and hearth constantly need sweeping. It's why you can find me hunched near an oil lamp on long winter evenings, knitting or reading by the dim but soothing light.

The joys of learning to make do and be content with the work of my hands have brought me untold satisfaction through the years. And because I choose to live this homemade life, I'm more content (at least I like to think so) than those who believe in what the advertisers are selling, which, in a nutshell, is discontent. We don't need the latest, biggest, or "best." What we need instead is the product of the work of our hands and an attitude of thankfulness for what we do have and the philosophy of "enough."

I further believe that God instilled this self-reliant streak in me. When He plunked Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, He gave them everything they could ever want, and then He told them to tend the Garden. And because we can trace our roots back to these two folks, our DNA must include that same imperative.

And so we work and we toil. We take care of those we love and try our best to fashion--with our hearts and hands and determination--a simple life of joy for ourselves and our families. And for those of us who take the time to stop and listen, we hear God whisper in each of our hearts: tend the Garden.

May God richly bless the work of your hands!
Georgia

The Joy of a Really Big Tiller

I have a preternatural bent for doing things as low-tech as possible. And yet I'm not averse to using technology when it seems right to me. And since it's finally springtime in Oregon and I've already been bested out in the backyard, I'm glad for my flexibility.

It's early on a Saturday morning and the dew is thick on the ground outside. I've had frost the last two mornings, but today is shaping up to be gorgeous and the temps last night were well above freezing. I'll need to wait a bit yet before I can get out there and work in the yard, so I'm passing the time composing this blog post. But there's a twist:

Lantern Light on My Computer

I'm using my sturdy, efficient kerosene lantern made in the French Alps. For years I used Aladdins, but this particular lantern is better suited to me. (In fact, I gave away all my Aladdins.) For one thing, it doesn't make the hissing noise my Aladdins did, and I think it uses less lamp oil. It's also not so fussy on parts, and because there's no mantel to constantly break, I don't have to stock what always felt like a mini lantern supply shop just to keep the lights on. Also, the glass chimney sits rock solid on the base, and it's made from a sturdier glass than most. And finally, those parts not only last longer, but they are less expensive to stock. Love my lantern.

Anyway, back to my garden.

First of all, some history: I've only been in the Lilliputian cottage for three years, and when I bought this derelict little gem, the grounds--like everything else--were a mess. But I got busy, again with help from family. We weed whacked the tall weeds only to discover that the back corner of the backyard had been used as a dumping ground by the previous owners. If you have read my previous blog post about my kitchen remodel  (Vegetable Oil by the Gallon), you'll know that this was just more of the same. But while the kitchen episode had its share of humor, what with the family of racoons and all, the backyard mess was just gross.

We ended up digging down about three feet (no kidding!) and wider than that and found broken buckets, monster rocks (I reused those), kids toys that looked to be years old (but not old enough to be antiques and therefore worth something), and most of an old toilet. (One of my sons suggested we fill the toilet with dirt and plant what he insisted would be a "flower pot" in the truest sense of the word. I opted out of that plan and it went to the dump along with everything else.) After unearthing the toilet (gloves on at all times, please!), we just put our shoulders into the task and filled up an entire truckbed with junk.

But the job was done. So now nothing stood between me and the garden of my dreams. Well...yes, there was one thing. Two actually.

I had to have two major surgeries so I could walk again and be without pain, which had become so debilitating that I could barely function. There was just no way I could go on any longer pretending that I could live with my condition. It was time. So I slathered on bales of straw and bid my garden adieu for two whole years. But this was where I made a tactical error.

Instead of breaking up the individual flakes of hay and strewing them feather-light over the top of things, I carefully laid out the compressed flakes side-by-side over everything. I figured that since it would be quite a while before I'd be back in the garden, those dense flakes of hay would simply kill everything underneath, and then, over time, decompose back into the soil, leaving a beautiful, weed-free, perfectly composted bit of gardening heaven in its wake. This bit of paradise was supposed to be waiting for me this year.

Didn't happen.

Earlier this spring, I went out back determined to hand dig a spot to plant peas and early greens. I sallied forth one fine day, garden tools in hand and my post-surgical body strong and ready for work. I started digging. It took all of about two minutes for me to come to the sickening realization that I was in a world of trouble. There was just no way I'd be able to dig up an entire garden area by hand. You see, those flakes of hay that I had plunked onto the ground two summers ago had sort of cemented themselves into place. Instead of killing the weeds underneath, they had in fact provided a perfect habitat for the weeds to somehow grow up through them. They weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

What to do, what to do. I thought about this for several weeks. Time's awastin', I fretted. Summer waits for no gardener, I fussed. There's nothing I can do to change that, I fumed.

But this much I did know: I just had to have a garden. So I thought and thought. I devised any number of scenarios for getting my garden spot ready for planting. And in the end, this is what I did:

I bought a tiller.

Actually, one of my sons and I bought a used tiller together. We used my money (moms really are indispensible!), but he plans on paying me half, and I'm hopeful. When that happens, this tiller will have already (almost!) paid for itself, because this is what I did earlier today:

I'm tickled pink with my new tiller. It ate through those cement-like plates of weed-grown hay flakes like they were nothing. Even better, when I started the tiller up, it only took me two pulls to get the thing going.

Because of this new purchase I am mentally going wild. I have made plans to till up large swaths of the front yard and along the side yard too. I'm seriously considering taking out the rest of my lawn in the backyard and turning an unused spot next to the garage into my hazelnut orchard (I think I could get two trees squeezed in there).

Thanks to my new tiller, I'm this close to realizing my dream garden, at least in my imagination. Really all I need is some time and a bit of money to see things through. Time is finite, but the money is coming--just as soon as my son pays me for his half.

Hope springs eternal. Hopefully gardens do too.

Blessings to you and yours!
Georgia

The Very Best Black Beans and Rice

I know that calling the recipe I'm about to share with you "the very best black beans and rice" is a bit hochmut of me, but it's true. What makes this bean dish so incredibly delicious is the "mojo" you ladle over the top (read on for that part). So, without further ado, I'll tell you how it's done:

Put some black beans on to simmer to which you've added a bit of olive oil and water to cover. I usually throw in a piece of pork or beef (either leftover or not; if I use raw meat I brown the pieces first in the olive oil before throwing in the beans), but it's just as good with no meat. You can use broth to flavor the beans if that sounds good, but I just use water.

Cook the beans for hours...as much as 5 - 8 hours is fine because you want them to cook up thick. I usually don't have that much time, so I'm more liable to cook them for about 3 hours. Suit yourself. Cook's choice! Add water or broth as needed. Don't add salt or pepper until near the end of the cooking time.

When the beans are getting near to being done, cook up some rice. While the rice is cooking, make:

Sofrito

In a saute pan, cook in olive oil (don't be stingy with the oil) minced garlic, chopped onion, and diced tomato. Saute the mixture long enough for the flavors to release and soak into the oil. Then add them to the cooking beans. There's really no right time to add the sofrito. I've done it at the beginning, and then sometimes I've just cooked my beans plain and instead simply topped my serving of beans with it. Any way is okay.

Next you're going to make the piece de resistance:

Mojo

In a jar with a tight fitting lid (because you'll be shaking things up) add:

half orange juice, half lemon juice (I usually make about a pint's worth)
1/4 - 1/2 tsp. cumin
twice as much basil as you used for the cumin
twice as much oregano as you used for the cumin
lots of minced garlic

Unless the mojo has sat in the fridge for a day or so, the herbs--even with vigorous shaking--will tend to separate quickly and sit on top of the juices. If this happens simply mix with a spoon and scoop a spoonful out at a time.

Into your individual bowls goes first the rice, then the beans/sofrito mixture, and topped off with the mojo. I usually use about 4 tablespoons for my serving because I love the stuff, but you may want to be a bit conservative until you decide how much is right for you.

Now for the photos:

Here's the sofrito with the meat cooking:

And here's my bowl of black beans and rice right before chowing down:

Oh my goodness these are tasty! I hope you try them, and I hope you love them as much as I do. Beans are economical, filling, and nutritious, and it's my personal opinion that people these days don't eat enough beans. If you're one of those, I may just change your mind with this recipe.

Blessings to you and yours!

What to Do with Leftover Pork? Boy Do I Have the Answer!

I made a pork roast yesterday. Simmered it, covered, on the stove in a cup of milk after browing all sides in a tablespoon of butter. A little salt and pepper--that's it. It was very good. I served it with garlic bread and corn that I flavored with melted butter and a surprising amount of dill weed. I highly recommend buttered corn with dill weed. I know it sounds weird, but it's very, very tasty.

Anyway, I had a bunch of pork roast left over and didn't want to let it go to waste, so here's what I did for "linner" today:

I sliced the pork and threw it in my crockpot with some Sweet Baby Ray's Barbeque Sauce, a smidge of chipotle chili in adobo sauce, and about 1/4 cup of water. I turned it to low for about 3 hours and then took two forks and pulled apart the meat. Stirred it very so often. That was it.

Barbequed Pork, ready to eat

In the meantime, I made a small batch of kind-of coleslaw: I thinly sliced some cabbage, about 1 1/2 cups. I put in 2-ish tablespoons of apple cider vinegar, a small of amount of sugar (around a teaspoon), some salt and pepper (more pepper than salt), and a few pinches of celery seed. I spritzed it with a bit of olive oil and mixed well.

Sorta coleslaw. Very plain. But tasty.

I had some ciabatta rolls and I cut them in half, slathered both sides with mayonnaise, and baked them in the oven at 375 degrees for about 10 minutes. The mayonnaise was melted and the edges of the ciabattas were slightly browned and a bit crisp when I removed them from the oven. They had great bite to them.

I piled on the barbequed pork and topped the meat with a goodly amount of the coleslaw. Popped on the top piece of ciabatta, smashed things a bit so I could get it into my mouth, and then took a tentative bite. Oh, glory...it was so delicious! The crisp sweet tanginess of the cabbage was a perfect complement to the smokey/spicey/sweet barbequed pork. The ciabatta was chewy goodness holding it all together.

I love poking around in my fridge and pantry and coming up with something good to eat. No need to go to the store for special ingredients or follow a recipe. This is cooking at its finest--making do with what I have and enjoying the end product.

And when it turns out this good, well! It's worth writing about. Even better? I'm not as liable to forget what I did if it's written down (my very worst problem in the kitchen), so I can make this again sometime if the mood moves.

Happiness!

May the Lord richly bless you and those you love!
Georgia

An Easy and Inexpensive Baby Blanket to Make

I love to make receiving blankets for baby shower gifts as I'm a firm believer that newborns need lots of blankets. I love to use flannel fabric because it's soft and warm and washable...and I can usually pick up cute, baby-worthy yardage on sale for relatively cheap.

Currently, one of my knitting friends is expecting, and since I already knit her a baby cardigan, I thought I'd make one of my trademark flannel blankies to go along with it.

Further, I thought others might like to know how I do it so they (you!) could have a wonderful, homemade, useful baby shower gift that is sure to be loved and used. So here goes:

I buy 1 1/4 yards of cotton flannel fabric...but you can do just as well with only a yard. Wash it and dry it and then square up all four sides and making them neat, with no ravels hanging.

Next, make a rolled hem edge and pin in place so you can do the next step, which is making buttonhole stitches around the entire edge. Use number 5 or 10 crochet cotton and either a tiny crochet hook that can poke through the fabric or else a large-eyed tapestry needle to actually sew the stitching in place.

Buttonhole stitch in progress

Next I took some pink #5 crochet cotton (because that's what I had that would work for a baby girl, but I often use variegated and that comes out really nice) and single crocheted all around the edgle of the buttonhole-stitched hem. Like this:

Single crochet foundation row

Next I crocheted a scalloped border all the way around. I crocheted 3 double crochets in one stitch, skipped the next stitch, and then single crocheted in the next stitch. Keepgoing like that: Three double crochets in one stitch, skip one stitch, one single crochet in next stitch, skip one stitch, and so on. It looks like this:

Finished with scalloping on the edge!

I'm just finishing this blanket...and it's a good thing because my friend is in labor. Today is a good day!

How Do We Manage When the Electricity Goes Out?

Several weeks ago, the Pacific Northwest experienced an unexpected and record-breaking snow storm. It dumped 9 inches of heavy, wet snow on us, and things pretty much came to a standstill for two days. Trees couldn't stand up to the weight of all that snow and many came down. Especially hard hit were the ornamental plum trees that were in blossom. But everywhere tree limbs--and whole trees--crashed down. I lost a large lower limb from a Doug Fir in my front yard near the house. And around the corner from me, half of a neighbor's mighty oak broke away.Thankfully, it crashed into the street. Another neighbor lost a birch tree that fell on his house. That same scenario was repeated all around our area. As a result, thousands of us lost power in our area.

My power went out in the early morning, shortly after I had gotten up. Normally I wouldn't have even been out of bed that early, but the snow was calling to me and I wanted to sit with a morning cup of coffee and enjoy the quiet and peace of the falling snow before I showered and tried getting to work in one piece on the snowy, slippery roads. So I turned on my coffee pot and watched the snow fall as I waited for it to finish brewing. As I was pouring my first cup I was suddenly plunged into absolute darkness. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face.

Ah well, I thought, surely it won't be long till it's back on. I fumbled in the dark and lit two of my lanterns so I'd have some light while I waited for the electricity to power back up. Then I sat and drank my coffee and waited. And waited.

Turns out the power didn't come back on for about 15 hours. It was so interesting to talk to people about their experiences because many of them were absolutely helpless in the face of this. They had no idea how to take care of basic needs and they were unprepared. They didn't have a clue how to spend that much time unplugged.

I thought of the Amish: When the electricity goes out in their area, it doesn't even register because they don't use high-line electricity. For the Amish, a day without electricity is like any other day. But of course, not for "the Englisch," which is what they call the rest of us.

Because I strive to live a relatively simple life, I wasn't too hampered by the turn of events. In fact, I rather relished the thought of living unplugged and low-tech for the day. I had my lanterns for light and my handpowered grain grinder for flour and cereal, a pantry full of home-canned food, and my books and spinning wheel and knitting and treadle sewing machine to keep me happily engaged. I had water and a propane stove out back under my patio roof for cooking and heating water. I figured I could take care of myself for quite a long time. Except...

I had no heat. In the Lilliputian cottage I have no wood stove. When I raised my boys in the country, we only heated with wood, and that big old farmhouse never seemed cold. The wood stove pumped out heat all winter long. We'd go through about three cords every winter, and I could stoke that old stove full, turn down the damper, and keep the house warm all night long. In the morning when I got up, I'd first thing go open the damper and get the coals glowing red hot before adding more wood for the day. Many's the day I'd set my cast iron pot on the stove and cook lunch or dinner for us, using the "free" heat from the fire. In the damp and soggy Pacific Northwest, wood heat, in my opinion, can't be beat. It's the best thing for keeping a body warm.

But even with no heat (I bundled up in my woolen hand knits from top to bottom and felt a bit smug), I was fine. And because of the choices I've made to live life simply, I was prepared and knew how to take care of myself.

As I see it, when an emergency hits, there are some things that are nice to have in place. We have need of food, water, shelter, heat if it's cold out (and it seems the electricity always goes out in a winter storm around these parts), an alternative light source, and any special needs, such as medicine or medical equipment. Each of us should think through these needs and decide how we can make them happen even in an outage. A little thought and preparation will go a long way.

I'm reminded of when my boys were little and we'd regularly have days (and occasionally weeks) when we "lived like pioneers." Even though it was fun, it was also educational. Depending on the season, we could forage and fish, cook out back or on the wood stove, play games by kerosene lantern light at the kitchen table, and wash our clothes by hand (even jeans!) and hang them outside or by the fire to dry. Good times.

I remember one time I gathered "fur and skins" (fabric from our local fabric store), leather thongs, and some big wooden needles that I'd found somewhere--the memory of which escapes me now--and when the boys woke up that morning I informed them that they would have to make their own clothes in order to dress for the day. They loved it! In fact, they got so excited about the project that they made a "skins" tent to play in also and we ate our meals there for several days.

These "play days" helped make my sons the creative tinkerers they are today, I think. In fact, besides the heat issue, I found I had one more problem on that snowy day and that was my fancy new iPhone. I'm fairly new to that technology, and people called or messaged me all day long (snow storm and power out = really big news!). Needless to say, my power bar was going down and I'd soon enugh run out of juice. And that was when I realized that once the power was gone, so was my ability to communicate with the outside world--granted, not a necessity, but nice to have available. I mentioned it to one of my boys and without skipping a beat he said to plug the phone into the car chager...which he'd given me for Christmas...and turn the key to accessories and let 'er rip. I did and my communications disaster was averted.

You and your family could try a "live like the pioneers" day (or two or three!) and find where you have gaps in your ability to take care of yourselves. And then you can make plans for how to close those gaps so when an uncertain future hits, you'll be prepared.

As for me, I'm saving up for a wood stove for the Lilliputian cottage. I know me well enough to know that I won't rest easy until I have it installed. And when I do, even if it's the dead of summer, I'll fire it up and put on a pot of stew.

Reading the Bible--In a Day! (Almost)

We had been forewarned: Today at work, the editorial department would be gathering en masse to proofread the newest edition of The Daily Bible, which is due out later this year. Our goal: Get as much of the Bible read in one day (with 12 of us on task) as humanly possible--reading carefully, not skimming--taking care with God's Word. A huge responsibility.

Every so often we will have a special project like this, that takes all of the editorial staff working together to accomplish. This day's work was massive, but every one of us looked forward to it. Think about it: we got paid today to sit quietly and--for an entire day!--read the Bible. It was lovely.

And it was fun...

The managing editor of the department is a creative genius when it comes to making big projects enjoyable. In our department, food often plays a big part in our communal times, and today was no exception. Food choices today were direct reflections of what Jesus would have eaten in His day. You see? Fun!

When we got to work, we had an early morning snack waiting for us that consisted of two types of honeycomb (dark and light), almond butter, and whole wheat bread. I'll freely admit that the electric toaster wasn't authentic, but it tasted so good to slather the goodies on perfectly toasted, warm bread.

We had already decimated the dark honeycomb and almond butter before it occured to me to start taking pictures:

What's left of the honeycomb. Not very exciting, but oh, so good!

We worked solid for two hours and then were treated to more food. This is where it got fun:

We had so much to choose from that I quickly wrote everything down because I knew I wouldn't remember it all otherwise, and here it is:

Matzo
goat cheese
flat bread
hummus
cashews
almonds
pistachios (already shelled!)
pomegranate seeds (ready to eat!)
raisins
dates
dried apricots
dried figs (two kinds, Mission and a Middle Eastern variety that was out of this world)
grapes
yogurt

What a feast! As we ate, we talked about what each of us had been reading this morning. How nice is that? Remember: This is my job.

We worked until lunch and were on our own for that meal. Frankly, I was still full from morning break. But I met my twin sister in town (prearranged) and we had a bit of tapas, which was just right for me today.

Then, back to work for the remainder of the day and one more treat:

Scripture Cake!



You can do a Google search to find out more about Scripture Cake. Along with a cup of hot tea, I sailed through the afternoon, alert, happy, satiated, and reading, reading, reading.

Such a blessing!