The Weston A. Price Way

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Sometimes You Just Have to Get Serious...

I'd love to be able to tell you about the Tres Leches Cake I made today. Or the Bacon-Onion-Cheddar Biscuits. I'd love to post pictures of one or the other...or both. I would even be happy to tell you I made another batch of watermelon jam today...this time w/the barely-a-step-above-white-sugar raw sugar rather than the Muscavado I used in the last batch, which Sr. Chief loved, but I was sort of 'egh' about and I'm pretty sure it was the sugar. It looks like apple butter but tastes like watermelon butter, so that sort of put me off.

And more than any of this, I really would have loved to show you the apron I finished sewing today.

But I can't tell you any of those things because I didn't do a single one of them. I spent quite a bit of time looking for land in the country on line. Had a little luck, especially with one that is just 2 hours away and only $1,000.00 per acre.

I think someone is selling their swamp. What a great water-moccasin-y kind of get-away that would be. But it did show deer and turkeys on the property and a 'creek' that looked more like a river at high tide to me, unless it really is the swamp I suspect it to be. (What does it mean when you can't see the roots of the trees because they're under water?)  But I guess it could be a good spot to stick our pop-up. If I learned how to shoot, we might even do some hunting and bring home the beef...or turkey, or whatever. Maybe fishing would be better...but I have a feeling I'd need a gun for that, too. Just in case a water-moccasin tried to jump in the boat we don't have yet. Did you know they will do that? They will. I grew up around those horrid creatures and they are out to get you, that's a fact. Don't let the snake conservation people tell you any differently. Well, I guess you can let them tell you, but just don't believe them. When it comes to water moccasins, my motto is you get them before they can get you. Unless you think you can outrun them.

How did I get here and how do I go back...?

Oh, about today's accomplishments. There weren't any really great ones. Well, yeah, it was kinda great now that I think of it...just not great fun.

We live in a home with many crevices. A bit of storage at the bottom of the stairwell. Some more over a door, over the washer and dryer, above the cupboards, and a teeny room that used to be a side porch where we managed to fit some shelving. I had my many sizes of Mason and Bell jars stored there, and realized I wasn't making the best use of that space. I also realized that I needed to make room for all the canned goods I'll be canning once the gasket gets here. (Whatever is taking it so long??) Somewhere along the way, I realized I needed to clear out the fridge.

And somewhere in the midst of trying to juggle it all, I felt myself get edgy and tired and overwhelmed. I'd put jars in one spot then decide not to put them there and then change my mind again. We store emergency goods in one of those spots and I was trying to work around them, too...and of course, whenever you move things from one spot to another, in my house anyway, you find the spot where things were needs to be cleaned. The fridge wasn't so bad-some things had to be thrown out, and I get upset about wasting food, don't ask me why because I don't know, but I just hate the idea of not making use of it. Maybe it's because it magnifies my weakness in the area of food planning. But in some cases it was a matter of throwing it out or eating it and I don't eat anything I can't recognize.

In the middle of all that, I remembered that next Tuesday is my turn to go out to the farm to get my group's milk. Because some of the ladies needed to switch due to vacations, etc, I haven't been out for a while so last week, the farmer gave us his very own special milk bottles. They are special because they aren't Mason jars. I didn't want to keep them until my next visit out there, so decided to pour the milk into my own jars and wash his to return when I go Tuesday. Then, I realized I hadn't been out in so long that I really had a lot of jars to return, so I went through all of them, made sure they were clean, had their corresponding lids and packed them for the trip. THEN I remembered that I needed to gather the farm's egg cartons for return, too. So, I did.

Then I got back to rearranging my space. I got so busy I forgot lunch. I'm a grandma and this week-end, had no grandchildren at the house, so they weren't here to ask me, "What's for lunch, Nana...and when are we gonna eat it?" Sr. Chief was in school, so that left him out of the equation as well.

Around 2:30, I tiredly looked around the kitchen and saw smatterings of things needing to be put in a variety of different places-some needing to go to places as yet undetermined- and felt that edge of overwhelmed-ness come on me in a wave. I stopped what I was doing and texted my friend in North Carolina, "Think it's okay to have a glass of wine on a Saturday at 2:30 when you're all alone?" She assured me it was, but I refrained and took a milk break instead. That's when Sr. Chief called me and said he was getting out early and he was hungry. I was hungry too, and we were both tempted to eat out, but we've been trying very hard to stop up that hole of financial loss, so I told him I'd fix something here.

Then I tore at the kitchen all in a dither, finishing the job as he walked in the door. He sweetly oohed and ahhed over the freshly cleaned, sorted and now-accessible pantry. He really liked being able to see and touch our food again.

Then, as if reading my mind, he let me know he wasn't up for sandwiches. And lest any of you think him an ogre...he is not. He offered to 'fix something else'. A ploy? Perhaps. He knows how I panic at the idea of what he may choose as 'something else'. Usually, it involves running to the grocery store for something not on the pantry shelves and that means adding a minimum of half an hour to my wait time for sustenance. Since my hunger outweighed my weariness, I declined his offer.

So, tonight's supposed dinner was a late lunch instead. Plum sauce glaze on grass-fed bratwursts with pressure-cooked rice. (Turns 40-minute rice into 5-minute rice...I'm still amazed!) Mixed a little of the plum glaze, (really, it's just plum jam heated up), into the rice, too...It tastes a lot like sweet and sour sauce. Everything else was leftovers-Lima beans, potato wedges re-browned in the oven, baked beans, and cantaloupe balls. He loved it and I'm pretty sure my stomach kissed me.

So, there's my big accomplishment of the day. I have room in the pantry now and things seem a little more organized. Sometimes, you just have to get the serious stuff done. Truth is, I'm feeling pretty good about being ready for what's next.

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