8.29.2009

i heart you, road trip




Ahh......home from our mega road trip and camp out. We trekked across the Western states like nobody's business...Utah, Idaho, Oregon, Montana and back home. I know I am biased as a born and bred Westerner, but I do not believe that there is an ugly state in the West. They all seem to have their discrete charm. Mountains, plains, jagged peaks, rolling hillocks, rivers, lakes, deep gorges, mossy forest floors, waterfalls, and so much wild life. It really buoyed me to see that so much of the American West still feels wild and untouched. There were hours long drives in Idaho and Montana filled with NOTHING, in a good way. I relish the thought of all that space and only find a little bit of fear in what might happen to it in the future. I get so caught up with thinking about all that has been ruined or degraded or disrespected in these modern days and it feels really wonderful to get out and see that so much unabashed wildness still remains.

I love road trips and seeing the land change and morph and watching those little towns come and go and trying to imagine whether or not I could ever live there. I pretty much always feel a push-pull in my psyche between rural and urban. Maybe we all do? I eat up big city amenities like art, good food, sleek well designed spaces, fashion, being surrounded by culturally literate, open minded folks wearing groovy shoes.... but then I also hate that I check my email 5 times a day, spend more time driving than walking, have to worry if Cleo rides her bike more than 5 houses up the street, and have only recently been able to say that I truly know my neighbors. I would like to think that I could hack it in Farmland or Mountainville, USA--working the land and having more time to myself to grow stuff, think big thoughts, and raise my little brood. It is a tough call and maybe I will never be settled until I have had a run at living in the sticks. (Affectionately said, of course.)

But I do think it is easy to idealize the rural. It is pretty clear to me that I know next to nothing about how to really make a living off the land. I know my fair share about plants but I have yet to come across a field of what have you, with the exception of corn and wheat, that I didn't wish the farmer had put a sign up just like they do at the museum saying what the hell is planted in there and what they do with it. Same thing for livestock...what kind of cows are those? And I still don't get why so many people seem to grow hay when I regularly saw signs on the road side saying hay bales for sale $6 a bale! How can anyone make a living on that? Maybe only making $6 for all your efforts isn't that big a deal when you have acres of fertile, gorgeous, untouched land to call your own. Maybe literally owning a piece of that wildness is way more defining and securing than a bank account statement could ever indicate?

I come back from trips refilled and inspired, but also glad to be home and step back into my routine. I recognize that vacations allow me a lot of uncommon pleasures...here are some of my favorites from Mega Road Trip 2009:

1. Car Dancing. (I credit my Dad with instilling in me a real love of upper body, seat belt friendly and utterly nerdy jamming.)
2. Smores. I mean, really, is there a better, more sensual dessert? Single serving, hands on, gooey, delicious goodness. Yum! I wanted them equally as much as Cleo did.
3. Star gazing. I tripped out looking up at the stars quite a few nights. I have always had a goal of understanding and recognizing the constellations but for once I didn't let myself feel frustrated with all that I don't know when I looked up and just enjoyed the sheer magnitude of them and my infinitesimal, smaller than spore like size in this universe. Way to put me in my place, sky.
4. Sleeping adjacent to my beloveds. It was beyond cozy to share a tent with my family. Trying at times, sure, but I would get a wave of giddiness each night when I would snuggle down into my bag and get to look right at the sleeping faces of my kids or whisper with Jaren long into the night. It was lovely and certainly a phase of life that I imagine I will long for when I have two teenagers who don't even want to be in the car with me, let alone sleep next to me!
5. Listening to hours and hours of This American Life podcasts. I think Ira Glass is a genius.
6. Eating junky road food to the point that I am ready to be a health freak for the next few months. I actually ate a vanilla flavored Zinger and several red licorice ropes, both things I haven't eaten since probably 1989.
7. Catching up with friends without interruption for days on end. My lovely and dear friend Morgan found the most exquisite cabin in the middle of nowhere for us to lay our heads, let the kids run wild, and stay up late and drink wine and play Apples to Apples and make memories. If she keeps planning perfect vacations, then god damnit, I am just going to have to keep going on them.
8. Letting Flynn get dirty and stay dirty and letting Cleo pick every single berry off pretty much every single bush in our campsite. Two things that would never fly on the homestead!
9. Unplugging. Literally and Figuratively.
10. Eating an apple pie made from scratch with apples picked by hand in an orchard out the front door of the cabin.


8.12.2009

dark days


i don't think i am a very paranoid person. i don't think everyone is out to get me and i don't do very much looking over my shoulder. that being said, regardless of my specific spiritual beliefs, i do have a fear of armageddon or the world as we know it taking a nose dive. i harbor a strange, keep me up at night, phobia about living through a period similar to the dark ages, or mad max-ish post tech days, where enlightened beacons of culture and humanity disappear and the people who remain have not the slightest memory of the achievements of those who came before them. it would be plain awful to forget all the foundations of everything and have to relearn through trial and error and laborious research everything that was once commonplace.

i bring up this particular brand of panic attack because it occurred to me today as i was reading the very fantastic back to basics cookbook Jam it Pickle It Cure It (a recommendation by my lovely friend Seth--thank you!) that this is exactly what i'm going through to get back to a level of food and home making knowledge that was run of the mill just one or two generations ago. the familiarity with how to make food from whole ingredients, nothing pre-packaged or pre-made, has all but vanished. and then go one more step down the line and realize that there are probably even fewer people under a certain ripe old age who also still know how and what to grow as FOOD not landscaping, straight from the earth outside their door ....and suddenly my dark ages phobia doesn't seem so silly, right?

we seem just a small step away from a certain kind of dark age to me. the fantastic writer michael pollan (omnivores dilemma, in defense of food) wrote a piece in last week's Times that i adored called out of the kitchen, onto the couch. inspired by the film julie & julia, he dissects why we as a culture are currently so fascinated with food and specifically the food network, and yet we have never cooked less as a nation or understood less about food production. the question at the core of the article is how did we let cooking go from something you do to something you watch and pay someone else to do for you? he cites some chilling statistics about how much people cook these days which sounds decent when you hear 58% of us still cook a weeknight meal, but then when you read between the lines of the study that produced the statistics it becomes clear that the whole definition of what it means to cook today has drastically changed. when you count washing lettuce and pouring a bottle of dressing on as "making" a meal or slapping mayo from a jar onto a loaf of store bought bread, the picture seems quite a bit more pathetic and the state of culinary know how even more dire.

why should we care about people cooking less themselves? the article has a whole list of compelling reasons. to me it really is mostly about the fact that very little good seems to be coming from letting others do it for us. we are getting fatter and so are our kids. most of us eat out more than we eat in and that means more money spent and leading less home-centric, busier lives shuffling to and fro. health concerns are voiced nearly daily about the chemicals that industrial food asks us to ingest. if we made stuff ourselves that would cut so many of those chemicals right out of our diets, i mean, when was the last time you reached for your can of calcium sorbate? but the purist in me, the cultural anthropologist if you will, really is most worried about the ramifications of letting the old time ways completely disappear because of the loss of knowledge that it indicates. i think it is weird to know less than someone did 100 years ago about food and survival and call it progress. we have more information at our disposal than ever before but seem to know less about the core subjects that really would matter if the earth were to shift and we were to stare a brand new world in the eye tomorrow, one that didn't have factories, industrial farms, recipe books, or outlets for heaven's sakes. what would we do?

i am not sounding the alarm quite yet, but i'm more like ringing a persistent bell. i want to challenge myself to do more of my own stuff from scratch (cheese, preserved meats, pickles) and really understand the alchemy behind the food products i regularly eat. and then i want to involve my children in the processes. making your own mayo or growing pole beans could be as intrinsic in the next generation as using a touch screen iphone, if we let it. if we want it. let's be truly modern and be willing to look as far back as we look forward.


,

8.08.2009

hidden in plain sight


i've been on my own, husband-less, for nearly two weeks. jaren travels a lot for work so i'm somewhat used to the single parenting gig, but i am continually amazed at how relentless parenting feels when there is just one pair of hands, and not two, shouldering the work. a real shout out to jaren for all he does to make my daily life feel more like fun and less like work, but i'd also like to say WOW to all those parents out there who do it on their own. i'm awed.

i have a funny response when jaren goes out of town. i am usually pretty ecstatic for the first couple days because i feel at liberty to let the house go to shambles, watch a chick flick, eat leftovers or pb&j for days on end, or go to bed early. i'm entirely the boss of my schedule and i like the way that feels. and then the thrill wears off and i quickly start getting antsy and wishing i had a companion again, someone who cares just as much as i do about the dry patches on our lawn or how funny it is to hear flynn say the word cantaloupe or will actually listen as i recount the bizarre dream i had last night about being chased by a saber toothed tiger while swimming in a hotel pool.

part of the joy of having a partner is that you have someone to help bear witness to your life and adventures. things are just more fun when you can share them with someone. it feels good to realize that part of what i crave most in my life is something completely attainable and totally free: people to share my life with. i have a fortune from a cookie i had ages ago taped up on my fridge, it reads: "the entire sum of existence is the magic of being needed by just one other person."

isn't that lovely? we make the formula for happy living all kinds of complicated. hopes, dreams, aspirations, success, wealth...but when it really comes down to it, i think the actual recipe is hidden in plain sight, right there as you have a conversation with someone you love while making toast and hearing the wind in the trees.

8.01.2009

6 simple ideas

i would say my philosophy about what i have- materially-can be summed up like this: i believe in honoring what i have by admiring it, putting it to its best use, and enjoying it. if you aren't doing any of those things with the stuff around you, pass it on to someone who can. get rid of it, liberate yourself!

i have found that clearing out a closet, a drawer, a garage, or the shelves in my pantry makes me feel so free. it is almost obscene! i think STUFF can be a form of mental pollution, cluttering the mind and weighing down the heart. maybe it is consumer guilt or recognition of being over-privileged, but i seem to always be aware of having one thing too many. i am working to resist the temptation to buy needlessly and working harder still to just be happy with what i already have. adding more and trading up and up can be so exhausting. why can't we just embrace what is already at our fingertips and under our very own roof?

i think the root of the problem is often in the buying. i don't think we are trained to give weight to the consumer experience anymore. credit cards and miles and miles of stores and options make it too easy to just blip! and buy without giving it much thought. and oddly enough, in areas like clothing, goods have actually gotten cheaper instead of more expensive, which i think causes a certain disposable mentality. i fall victim to this all the time (thank you, old navy!) and suddenly have a closet that contains sequined shoes, a muumuu, and a bikini that will never see the light of day!

i have been giving a lot of thought not only to better buying, but also better keeping, and i think i've boiled things down to a few rules that will hopefully help me stick to the above philosophy ....

1. invest in quality, goods
if on the first go round we all bought things we truly loved regardless of price tag, i think we would be more inclined to hang on to them. granted i have an insanely good knack for loving the $200 frocks of the world, but i still think it might be worth breaking the bank for those kinds of items if it means that i will value it more highly make it a prized possession and get the best amount of use out of it. in general, i do think that price tag does correlate to quality-- things that cost more are made well and that makes them last, which means that hopefully in the long haul, you end up buying less.

2. be a good house manager and know what you have.
do i know what i own? do i keep it organized? can i find it when needed? it is pretty simple. fundamentally if you don't know what you have, you can't be rightfully appreciating it. thanks to my $15/week project i now keep an inventory of my pantry and freezer and produce items. i find i waste a lot less food and my grocery store runs are much more streamlined and less impulsive. i no longer just throw in a courtesy can of tomato paste and garbanzo beans every damn time i shop. it is amazing what making a list of what you have can do for you. i haven't yet done it, but i think it could be a pretty cool exercise to take a for real inventory of all my possessions. the fact that the task seems so daunting may be a warning bell, but i think i may give it a go. if i really acknowledged on paper how many white tshirts i have or how many pairs of shoes or chopsticks or plates...maybe i would be less inclined to buy more? or maybe i would just make myself insane and make nobody ever want to hang out with me again.

3.understand the term good riddance.
ah, shakespeare. he coined this phrase originally, but i really love the thought behind it. sometimes it IS good to have to part with things. it frees up space in mind and house, and if disposed of properly, it can be of huge benefit to others. dropping off unused items to charity or selling things on craigs list or the ksl classifieds ensures that someone genuinely will utilize and will appreciate your cast offs. i have had a fun time going through my kids old stuff and donating and selling things we no longer can make use of. i've been doing a lot of good riddance of late and it honestly feels like a win win. i also have learned that things that you feel are too nice to use or that may come in handy down the road are usually things you should just get rid of now. i don't see much use in saving the good china for your 50th anniversary meal or never burning the fancy candlesticks or sitting on the good couch. what a waste of space and energy...i really think if you aren't enjoying it and using it, it should find its way into someone's life who will.

4. be open to new ways to shop that are more responsible and likely more fun. i haven't completely been sticking to the pledge to buy handmade, but it is certainly a goal to try and do more of that. there are so many people creating amazing things with their own two hands and there are so many local businesses working hard to make a go of it and keep the money, the craft, and the expertise local. if i am buying, i think it is a good idea to buy in a way that benefits the little guy. chances are i will end up with something more unique and meaningful. i also love love love to support buying second hand. i used to do it purely out of the love of the hunt for something quirky and weird and truly vintage, but i think it makes sense to shop for even everyday things at thrift stores and vintage shops. it is environmentally sound but it is also really fun. i need to give a shout out to savers the unsung hero of the thrift store scene in slc. most people are true to the DI around here, but me, i'm all about savers!

5. everything old can be new again
i love this trend of 'upcyling" stuff, cretaing something new and useful out of something cast off. so many stores around town and a zillion etsy shops have really cute offerings that demonstrate just how chic and cute thrift store finds can be with simple updates like a coat of cute colored paint or adding a fun, new fabric. in my own house, i love the simple trick of rotating objects and rearranging things. switching up pieces of art, knick knacks, lamps, or even big pieces of furniture can breathe new life into a room. lately when i've been getting the itch to go out and buy something because i'm sick of my house and wish i could remodel it already or doing a poor me because of my less than stellar thread count sheets or what have you, this little trick has come in very handy.

6. stay home and/or sleep on it.
i really feel that the best armor i have against buying things i don't need is to stay at home more and cut myself off from the consumer temptations. if i don't go in a store, i can't buy anything. an added bonus is that you don't know what you are missing and my neighbors don't seem to care a wit that everytime they see me i am wearing the exact same tank top. i throw cute catalogs directly in the recycling bin (except curses on you mini boden!) if the temptation to buy something is super strong, i like to indulge in online wishlist shopping and try to fake myself out that i've just made a purchase. i still haven't used lay away but i think that would be another great thing to do before plunging into my next big purchase this way i can double check that i still want it 2 weeks, a month later.