Captain's Log:
Today is Saturday. This past Thursday, I woke with a mild sore throat and lots of aches and pains throughout my body. 'No big deal,' I thought, so I made myself several cups of hot ginger and cinnamon tea to combat the possible oncoming cold. By mid-afternoon, I had a fever, and by 4:00 pm that fever had hit 102.4, which sounds more like an FM radio station than a body temperature.
I got tons of rest that evening, drank plenty of fluids - teas, lemon water - and gargled with salt water to help get rid of that sore throat. I was delirious with fever. My innerds felt so cold, but I could feel heat radiating from my face. When I woke Friday morning, I thought all was right in the world. My fever was gone, my sore throat was only barely noticeable, and I was very thirsty. I drank a quart of water and prepared to head into work.
And then the fever came back. And the sore throat got worse. And my legs felt like rubber, and weakness overtook my body. Back to bed.
85% of Friday was spent asleep and 95% was spent in bed. I managed to eat one decent meal. The fever broke by 4 pm, and I've been sweating profusely ever since. Drank water all day long. Gargled with salt water all evening long. It was during one of these gargling sessions that I glanced in the mirror and noticed the disgusting white patches all over my tonsils.
Shit. It's strep.
So here I am. On Saturday. Gargling with salt & cayenne pepper water every hour. Taking acetaminophen to mask the pain (a 6 out of 10 on the pain scale) of the sore throat. Drinking warm tea. Resting. Meditating.
And my new, simple lifestyle is having "a moment." First of all, most specialists will recommend antibiotics for Strep. Even if it doesn't cure the bacterial infection in me, it will prevent its transmission to others. But I don't want to subject my body to antibiotics. What truly is the greater good in this dilemma? Second of all, it is discouraging just to be sick at all. I eat healthy, nourishing foods. I get exercise and plenty of sunlight. I have reduced stress in my life, and I wash my hands frequently and properly. So, uh, wtf.
Any thoughts from the public?
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Hiatus!
Gardening season is winding down. Things have changed since the last post. Books have been read. Plants have been harvested. Philosophies have been pondered. My life of simplicity has been altered in crazy ways.
I'm fluttering between the eating regimens of the Weston Price crew (emphasis on quality fats; avoidance of grains) and a Vegan/Vegetarian ideal (emphasis on quality vegetation; avoidance of meat because of its impact environmentally). Either way, locally produced, organic meats/vegetables are not in abundance here. You eat commercial beef and poultry, or you eat an orange shipped in from Florida. Take your pick.
Sewing has halted: machine is broken. Repairs will be costly.
Garden produced crazy amounts of summer squash and peppers. Tomatoes were almost nonexistent due to the weather. Corn was obliterated from bugs. I've gotten several pumpkins already, which were carved, and seeds were saved. The herb garden is astounding, but that is another post altogether.
Things that are always in my hippie house:
1) Baking soda - it's the primary ingredient in all of my homemade goods. Deodorant, shampoo, detergent all require the power of baking soda, not to mention all of the regular cleaning jobs it tackles with ease.
2) Kefir
3) Beans - particularly lentils, chickpeas, black beans, and lima beans
4) Oats / Rice of some sort
5) Ginger & Lemons
6) Tea
Wild greens are always being foraged from the backyard to be added to meals. Dandelions, stork's bill, pigweed, shepherd's purse, lambsquarters, and purslane are very common in our area, and from what I've read, they contain more minerals and nutrients than greens raised commercially.
I'm fluttering between the eating regimens of the Weston Price crew (emphasis on quality fats; avoidance of grains) and a Vegan/Vegetarian ideal (emphasis on quality vegetation; avoidance of meat because of its impact environmentally). Either way, locally produced, organic meats/vegetables are not in abundance here. You eat commercial beef and poultry, or you eat an orange shipped in from Florida. Take your pick.
Sewing has halted: machine is broken. Repairs will be costly.
Garden produced crazy amounts of summer squash and peppers. Tomatoes were almost nonexistent due to the weather. Corn was obliterated from bugs. I've gotten several pumpkins already, which were carved, and seeds were saved. The herb garden is astounding, but that is another post altogether.
Things that are always in my hippie house:
1) Baking soda - it's the primary ingredient in all of my homemade goods. Deodorant, shampoo, detergent all require the power of baking soda, not to mention all of the regular cleaning jobs it tackles with ease.
2) Kefir
3) Beans - particularly lentils, chickpeas, black beans, and lima beans
4) Oats / Rice of some sort
5) Ginger & Lemons
6) Tea
Wild greens are always being foraged from the backyard to be added to meals. Dandelions, stork's bill, pigweed, shepherd's purse, lambsquarters, and purslane are very common in our area, and from what I've read, they contain more minerals and nutrients than greens raised commercially.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Fine 'n' Dandy, Lion
'Twas this time last year that I made the shocking discovery that *gasp* the vast majority of growing, leafy things in my lawn which I had spent hard-earned cash to eradicate in previous years were actually edible. In my area, the most common lawn weeds are dandelion, henbit, chickweed, wood sorrel, shepherd's purse, and possibly lamb's quarters. My fellow towns-folk all have bright green lawns right now - not because anything is growing yet, but because of the tell-tale dye used by commercially applied herbicides and pre-emergent designed to kill off those darned weeds.
We had stopped paying for those in years past - they are expensive, and we have a kid now. We don't want him out playing in a yard that reeks of chemicals. The weeds had, therefore, taken over the yard, making us the lonely eyesore about town. And then the shocking discovery occurred.
Sure, our grandparents all knew that you can eat dandelions. But no one ever bothered to inform lil ol me. But they are very bitter at times, so there are some tricks to making them palatable. First, catch them young. If you pick the young leaves (ones that have been hit by a light frost, but are still small and have no flowers on them), they will mostly just taste like typical leafy greens. If you pick them when they are older, you can saute them, and toss them with an oil (such as olive), and acid (I prefer lemon juice), and some salt (I choose sea salt and some feta cheese).
Voila! I prefer to eat them raw as much as possible. The greens are incredibly rich in nutrients. You can also eat the flowers (raw or cooked). You can harvest the massive root from the plant, dry it, and make a tea from it. You can steep the flowers in oils and make an ointment too. They are actually incredibly helpful.
We had stopped paying for those in years past - they are expensive, and we have a kid now. We don't want him out playing in a yard that reeks of chemicals. The weeds had, therefore, taken over the yard, making us the lonely eyesore about town. And then the shocking discovery occurred.
Sure, our grandparents all knew that you can eat dandelions. But no one ever bothered to inform lil ol me. But they are very bitter at times, so there are some tricks to making them palatable. First, catch them young. If you pick the young leaves (ones that have been hit by a light frost, but are still small and have no flowers on them), they will mostly just taste like typical leafy greens. If you pick them when they are older, you can saute them, and toss them with an oil (such as olive), and acid (I prefer lemon juice), and some salt (I choose sea salt and some feta cheese).
 |
| Dandelion Salad |
Voila! I prefer to eat them raw as much as possible. The greens are incredibly rich in nutrients. You can also eat the flowers (raw or cooked). You can harvest the massive root from the plant, dry it, and make a tea from it. You can steep the flowers in oils and make an ointment too. They are actually incredibly helpful.
I guess what it comes down to is this: I strongly encourage you to do some research. Henbit, lamb's quarters, wood sorrel, chickweed... all edible. And free. And healthy.
Of course, don't eat anything that could have possibly been treated with chemicals; don't eat vegetation that you haven't properly identified; don't eat things growing very near roadways.
The Gerb's Fresh Salad:
Ingredients-
about 1-1/2 c. freshly picked young dandelion leaves
about 2 tsp EVOO
1 tsp feta cheese
1 tbsp homemade kimchi
a squirt of lemon juice
a pinch of kosher salt (to taste)
a handful of pine nuts (or sesame seeds, or chia seeds, or sunflower seeds... whatever you feel like)
other mixed greens, if available (sorrel, kale, sprouts, mint, oakleaf, whatev.)
Thoroughly wash leaves to remove dirt and foreign objects. Spin in salad spinner or wrap with cheesecloth and spin it over your head like a helicopter blade (outside, dumbass, so you don't get water all over your kitchen). Then toss dried leaves with oil and juice. Add in everything else and combine until you feel satisfied. Dine.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Just Taste the Parsley
This is one of those stories intended to inspire you to see the world in a new way. ... It probably won't work.
When I was a lil kid being raised in a small, Judeo-Christian community as a Roman Catholic, the Lenten season held a special bonus. Amidst the fasting and giving up fun things like chocolate or TV (with the hopes of being handsomely rewarded by our parents come Easter morning), there was a beacon of awesome hope - the ritual Seder Meal. There is a lot of deep symbolism in the reenactment of the Passover dinner. As a child, however, much of the religious meaning was lost to me. What I found fascinating was the sense of community.
It went down like this - the best baker in the town made matzo; a delightful Irish-born woman brought the most amazing cooked lamb; a guy who was renowned for his gardening prowess brought fresh parsley; and everyone else contributed with pot-luck dinner items and other symbolic necessities. Fifty to one hundred of us would gather in the tiny, cold, dimly-lit basement of our parish center, huddled together with small glasses of wine (grape juice for we little ones) and meager portions on our plates. We held scripts in our hands, and our parish priest led a mini-play. There was this indescribable spirit of adventure in the room - for us kids, we were basically eating foreign food (Unleavened bread and weird leafy greens? People actually eat those things?!). After the entire ceremony was done and we had lingered in meditative silence, we would bust out the real food and go to town devouring the rest of that delicious lamb. Good times.
I remember one specific event, though. It was the very first Seder we had ever planned; I was about six. The other kids were looking over the bits on our plate - horseradish, parsley, matzo, romaine, egg...
"Hey? What's this green stuff?!" I asked an adult while prodding at my sprig of parsley.
She explained, "Parsley. It's an herb. It is bitter tasting. We dip it in salt water to remind us...blah, blah, blah... but when it comes time, if you kids don't want to eat that part, you don't have to. I don't blame you either - parsley tastes awful."
In essence, an adult just told me, a child, 'this food is yucky - I don't like it; you won't either. Here's a "get-out-of-trying-something-new" card.'
But, defiant as I was, I tried the damn parsley anyway. And as a kid, I did think it tasted awful. But I ate the whole sprig. Mostly because someone told me I wouldn't like it.
It changed my life. As an adult, I love herbs. All herbs. They have my utmost respect for everything they do, and everything they stand for. One particular herb that I hold dear is the parsley. It still tastes the same as when I tried it that first time as a kid - but I appreciate it more. And every time I taste it, it takes me back to those memories of the Seder Meal, of all of us neighbors working together and getting along. We weren't jealous of each other, or scolding each others' children. It was a glorious festival being held in the middle of what felt like an ongoing 40-day-funeral.
All memories that may have been lost to the abyss of time if I hadn't decided to just taste the parsley.
When I was a lil kid being raised in a small, Judeo-Christian community as a Roman Catholic, the Lenten season held a special bonus. Amidst the fasting and giving up fun things like chocolate or TV (with the hopes of being handsomely rewarded by our parents come Easter morning), there was a beacon of awesome hope - the ritual Seder Meal. There is a lot of deep symbolism in the reenactment of the Passover dinner. As a child, however, much of the religious meaning was lost to me. What I found fascinating was the sense of community.
It went down like this - the best baker in the town made matzo; a delightful Irish-born woman brought the most amazing cooked lamb; a guy who was renowned for his gardening prowess brought fresh parsley; and everyone else contributed with pot-luck dinner items and other symbolic necessities. Fifty to one hundred of us would gather in the tiny, cold, dimly-lit basement of our parish center, huddled together with small glasses of wine (grape juice for we little ones) and meager portions on our plates. We held scripts in our hands, and our parish priest led a mini-play. There was this indescribable spirit of adventure in the room - for us kids, we were basically eating foreign food (Unleavened bread and weird leafy greens? People actually eat those things?!). After the entire ceremony was done and we had lingered in meditative silence, we would bust out the real food and go to town devouring the rest of that delicious lamb. Good times.
I remember one specific event, though. It was the very first Seder we had ever planned; I was about six. The other kids were looking over the bits on our plate - horseradish, parsley, matzo, romaine, egg...
"Hey? What's this green stuff?!" I asked an adult while prodding at my sprig of parsley.
She explained, "Parsley. It's an herb. It is bitter tasting. We dip it in salt water to remind us...blah, blah, blah... but when it comes time, if you kids don't want to eat that part, you don't have to. I don't blame you either - parsley tastes awful."
In essence, an adult just told me, a child, 'this food is yucky - I don't like it; you won't either. Here's a "get-out-of-trying-something-new" card.'
But, defiant as I was, I tried the damn parsley anyway. And as a kid, I did think it tasted awful. But I ate the whole sprig. Mostly because someone told me I wouldn't like it.
It changed my life. As an adult, I love herbs. All herbs. They have my utmost respect for everything they do, and everything they stand for. One particular herb that I hold dear is the parsley. It still tastes the same as when I tried it that first time as a kid - but I appreciate it more. And every time I taste it, it takes me back to those memories of the Seder Meal, of all of us neighbors working together and getting along. We weren't jealous of each other, or scolding each others' children. It was a glorious festival being held in the middle of what felt like an ongoing 40-day-funeral.
All memories that may have been lost to the abyss of time if I hadn't decided to just taste the parsley.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Say Cheese!
~~ Photographs Coming Soon! ~~
This last weekend's adventure was a brief soiree into the art of cheesemaking. Nothing fancy - yet. But I had a bunch of kefir that I needed to do something productive with, and I've got plans for whey, so cheese fit the bill.
Step 1: Take quart of kefir from fridge and set out to warm to room temp.
Step 2: Line colander with butter muslin and pour kefir in. Put bowl under colander to catch whey. Whey will need to be used within about 3 hours, so don't leave it out too long!
Step 3: Add cheese salt if you wish. It will help draw out some of the moisture and will add some flavor to your cheese.
Step 4: After a few hours, tie corners of cloth together and hang to drip for 16 hours, or until it is the consistency you want.
Step 5: Mix in any herbs or flavorings you desire. Eat or refrigerate.
This last weekend's adventure was a brief soiree into the art of cheesemaking. Nothing fancy - yet. But I had a bunch of kefir that I needed to do something productive with, and I've got plans for whey, so cheese fit the bill.
Step 1: Take quart of kefir from fridge and set out to warm to room temp.
Step 2: Line colander with butter muslin and pour kefir in. Put bowl under colander to catch whey. Whey will need to be used within about 3 hours, so don't leave it out too long!
Step 3: Add cheese salt if you wish. It will help draw out some of the moisture and will add some flavor to your cheese.
Step 4: After a few hours, tie corners of cloth together and hang to drip for 16 hours, or until it is the consistency you want.
Step 5: Mix in any herbs or flavorings you desire. Eat or refrigerate.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Adventure
Ordered kefir grains from www.culturesforhealth.com. They came last Wednesday, and I began rejuvenating them immediately. Now (Sunday evening), I have my first batch of real kefir. It's good stuff.
If you're out of the loop, let me fill you in: kefir is fermented milk. Sounds gross?! Yes, at first. This drink is basically liquid yogurt. You buy "grains" that have been freeze-dried. You put them in a cup of milk on the counter in your kitchen - the little bacteria and yeasts that make up the "grains" feast on the lactose in the milk, breaking it down. You change out the milk periodically for fresh milk so that the bacteria have more deliciousness to eat and don't starve. Once they've fully awakened from their hibernated state, you get some properly fermented milk - a.k.a kefir.
The kefir tastes like plain yogurt - tangy, a bit sour (almost like buttermilk), and slightly effervescent. It can be used in recipes, drank plain or with flavors added, and can be made into cheese. It is loaded with healthy live bacteria cultures (the same way yogurt is) that can help boost your immunity and can help with "gut health".
And you just keep a-brewin'. Making cup after cup. Easy-peasy.
Except mine wasn't so easy to begin with - variances in room temperature can change your fermentation times. Mine was fermenting too fast, leaving me with curds and whey in my mason jar. So rather than simply straining the old milk through cheesecloth and putting the tiny little grains (and yes, some of them are smaller than rice to begin with) back into the jar, I was having to comb through a bowl of cottage cheese to find my minuscule grains. It would take 45 minutes to complete each milk change. But then I got smart and reduced my culturing time from 24 hours to 12, and things moved along more smoothly after that.
Live and learn.
If you're out of the loop, let me fill you in: kefir is fermented milk. Sounds gross?! Yes, at first. This drink is basically liquid yogurt. You buy "grains" that have been freeze-dried. You put them in a cup of milk on the counter in your kitchen - the little bacteria and yeasts that make up the "grains" feast on the lactose in the milk, breaking it down. You change out the milk periodically for fresh milk so that the bacteria have more deliciousness to eat and don't starve. Once they've fully awakened from their hibernated state, you get some properly fermented milk - a.k.a kefir.
The kefir tastes like plain yogurt - tangy, a bit sour (almost like buttermilk), and slightly effervescent. It can be used in recipes, drank plain or with flavors added, and can be made into cheese. It is loaded with healthy live bacteria cultures (the same way yogurt is) that can help boost your immunity and can help with "gut health".
And you just keep a-brewin'. Making cup after cup. Easy-peasy.
Except mine wasn't so easy to begin with - variances in room temperature can change your fermentation times. Mine was fermenting too fast, leaving me with curds and whey in my mason jar. So rather than simply straining the old milk through cheesecloth and putting the tiny little grains (and yes, some of them are smaller than rice to begin with) back into the jar, I was having to comb through a bowl of cottage cheese to find my minuscule grains. It would take 45 minutes to complete each milk change. But then I got smart and reduced my culturing time from 24 hours to 12, and things moved along more smoothly after that.
Live and learn.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Getting to the Heart of Hippiedom
First, I already don't buy new clothes. I've got one nice dress suit. I've got clothes that I wore in high school that I patch and repair and mend to make work. I get occasional hand-me-downs from relatives. And if this used-clothes stigma didn't make me enough of a dirty hippie, the rest of the post will convince you otherwise...
I've weened myself from "regularly scheduled" haircut appointments. Tired of paying for it. Especially since haircuts for style are a bit ridiculous anyway. But, now I'm also part of the no-'poo society. 'Poo, as in shampoo, not bowel movements.
I still shower, but I use basic, homemade soap. And now, I don't use shampoo to wash my hair. Shampoo is expensive, unnecessary, and loaded with synthetic shit. Instead, I make a solution of baking soda and water. I pour that into my hair, massage well, and rinse. Just before I get out of the shower, I mist my hair with a cider vinegar/water solution (as a conditioner), and I let it dry in my hair. Sometimes I just pour the vinegar over the hair and duck under the shower head briefly to wet it more before massaging it in. The vinegar doesn't smell once it is dry.
I'll admit, it's grimey at first. It's not the soft, sweet smelling, flowing locks of hair that I'm used to. But after a bit, the natural scalp oils neutralize and balance, and my hair started transforming into awesomeness. My natural wave came back, so I can let my hair air-dry and it looks nice without any styling. All the additives in the 'poo had been messing with its texture. So I'm all natural and lookin' good.
Which is disappointing, because I'm not the dirty hippie (by appearances) that my stereotype should indicate.
I've weened myself from "regularly scheduled" haircut appointments. Tired of paying for it. Especially since haircuts for style are a bit ridiculous anyway. But, now I'm also part of the no-'poo society. 'Poo, as in shampoo, not bowel movements.
I still shower, but I use basic, homemade soap. And now, I don't use shampoo to wash my hair. Shampoo is expensive, unnecessary, and loaded with synthetic shit. Instead, I make a solution of baking soda and water. I pour that into my hair, massage well, and rinse. Just before I get out of the shower, I mist my hair with a cider vinegar/water solution (as a conditioner), and I let it dry in my hair. Sometimes I just pour the vinegar over the hair and duck under the shower head briefly to wet it more before massaging it in. The vinegar doesn't smell once it is dry.
I'll admit, it's grimey at first. It's not the soft, sweet smelling, flowing locks of hair that I'm used to. But after a bit, the natural scalp oils neutralize and balance, and my hair started transforming into awesomeness. My natural wave came back, so I can let my hair air-dry and it looks nice without any styling. All the additives in the 'poo had been messing with its texture. So I'm all natural and lookin' good.
Which is disappointing, because I'm not the dirty hippie (by appearances) that my stereotype should indicate.
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