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I have finally designed my garden. By comparison to other gardens I've designed, it's tiny. My past life of backyard gardening has been at a housing co-op of ten people and while I never actually grew a garden big enough for 10, I designed and built gardens on the scale (a crazy endeavor I fondly blame on being youth-drunk and excited about the new-found love of my life). I am proud to say that this garden is a model of restraint. Here are the details:
The loveliness of my new garden is in its simplicity. It is designed as one 4' by 20' raised bed and another 4' by 18' rectangle. The bed, which will run East/West and will have a 6' by 4' rectangle of potatoes and bush beans (with sweet peas in the spring), a 4' by 4' square of carrots, parsnips, and beets, a 2' by 4' rectangles each of kale and peppers, and two 2' by 6' rectangles one for okra and one for cabbages. parallel to this bed and just north of it will be my tall plants (north of the other bed so as not to shade anything out). I will have two rows of mixed tomatoes (6' by 4'), then a corn/bean/squash rectangle of 8' by 4', which will have a row of lettuce tucked in behind it (to take advantage of the spring light before the corn grows tall, and then to take advantage of the shade in the high heat of summer), flanked by another double row, 4' square of my paste tomatoes. The beds will be lined with calendula/marigold, daisies, chives (around the caggage and root crops), and borage (around the tomatoes). I'm sure I'll also plant Sunflowers (the decorative kind) along the north and east of the garden.
I've picked out a spot I like by my house, in case the landlords don't have room in their garden for mine. Other than this, I have a beautiful bed of garlic planted at my old house. My rotation plan for next year is to add a bed to the north, rotate everything one plot over and back (potatoes into roots and kale, roots into cabbage, kale into okra, cabbage and kale back into one of the tomato plots, cron/beans/squash back to a new bed, tomatoes into corn/beans/squash bed and back into the new bed).
I made a general plan with dimensions of each plot per vegetable/companion set and then I made a specific planting guide down to planting patterns (traingles or rows) and number of plants, distance of planting, etc. for each section (tomatoes - 8 paste, 10 total mixed, cabbage and okra - 11 plants each, 8 heads of spring lettuces, 6 heads of summer lettuce, etc.)
And that, my friends, is it. Please do tell me about your garden designs and plans this year. I'd love to know!
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Designing the Garden
I've taught many a workshop on designing a garden, and I know from experience that it's hard to know where to start. That said, I have stopped dreaming about perfect gardens. It is enough for me, at this point in my life, simply to garden. A walk through Eden takes much more background work than I'm willing to put in. So, very realistically, here's what I do.
First, I take into account my goals. This includes how many veggies I'd like to grow, ideal harvest (data and tables can be found in this quintessential book ), and anything else I want. This includes dreaming big (if I had it in me)
Then, I observe my landscape. This is the part where I figure out what kind of space I actually have, how much sunlight I get, what my soil is like, where flooding or extra frost or wind damage happens, where roadway runoff may have oversalted my soil, where compacted areas might make it hard to till, where in the yard I never go and probably will never go to tend to a garden either, etc. etc. In reality, I do this at the same time as I figure out my goals. This is the "reality check" part of the project.
I combine my goals and my observations in site assessment, which is where I figure out how to meld my goals and my observations. Thus I pick the perfect general site and size for my garden. This includes basic things like "well...I guess I don't be growing good carrots because of how rocky this soil is" or "I can basically do whatever I want. Sweet."
Only after this point do I design my garden. I lay out beds and rows, I make measurements, I draw diagrams and maps. First I plan out the general size, shape and design of the garden at large, and once I have an idea of the general plan, I figure out what goes where (including an easy rotation pattern for future years (rotation refers to not planting the same veggies in the same place more than once every 3-4 years to ensure that pests and disease don't stay in the soil and attack the plants again and also for nutrient replenishment)), how much of each veggie to plant, and other charming features.
Once I plant my garden, I always make sure to have a detailed map of what I planted where, because next winter it'll be hard to remember what your rotation plan was, and you risk planting carrots in the same spot two years in a row out of sheer carelessness. I have a devoted Gardener's notebook so everything (including seed buying receipts and daydreams) goes into one place where it'll be easy to find. A file folder would serve the same purpose.
Notes
Always design from broad concepts to details. Knowing where the carrots go before knowing how big the garden will be doesn't make sense no matter how you swing it. Also - this will guarantee that your details will work towards an effective and comprehensive broader concept and actually meet your goals. Sewing together scattered details to form a well-design whole rarely works.
If you want the best design possible have fun and play around with it. sketch out several different designs with thick markers first, and then do several renditions with pencils for details. Move things around, try different shapes and patterns, even if you are absolutely sure where the garden will go, try moving it to learn something new about other potential landscape factors or how you might go about designing the layout of the garden itself. You'll be surprised how much fun it is and how much more effective it is to mix and match ideas from different designs than to just plough ahead with the first great thing you thought of.
First, I take into account my goals. This includes how many veggies I'd like to grow, ideal harvest (data and tables can be found in this quintessential book ), and anything else I want. This includes dreaming big (if I had it in me)
Then, I observe my landscape. This is the part where I figure out what kind of space I actually have, how much sunlight I get, what my soil is like, where flooding or extra frost or wind damage happens, where roadway runoff may have oversalted my soil, where compacted areas might make it hard to till, where in the yard I never go and probably will never go to tend to a garden either, etc. etc. In reality, I do this at the same time as I figure out my goals. This is the "reality check" part of the project.
I combine my goals and my observations in site assessment, which is where I figure out how to meld my goals and my observations. Thus I pick the perfect general site and size for my garden. This includes basic things like "well...I guess I don't be growing good carrots because of how rocky this soil is" or "I can basically do whatever I want. Sweet."
Only after this point do I design my garden. I lay out beds and rows, I make measurements, I draw diagrams and maps. First I plan out the general size, shape and design of the garden at large, and once I have an idea of the general plan, I figure out what goes where (including an easy rotation pattern for future years (rotation refers to not planting the same veggies in the same place more than once every 3-4 years to ensure that pests and disease don't stay in the soil and attack the plants again and also for nutrient replenishment)), how much of each veggie to plant, and other charming features.
Once I plant my garden, I always make sure to have a detailed map of what I planted where, because next winter it'll be hard to remember what your rotation plan was, and you risk planting carrots in the same spot two years in a row out of sheer carelessness. I have a devoted Gardener's notebook so everything (including seed buying receipts and daydreams) goes into one place where it'll be easy to find. A file folder would serve the same purpose.
Notes
Always design from broad concepts to details. Knowing where the carrots go before knowing how big the garden will be doesn't make sense no matter how you swing it. Also - this will guarantee that your details will work towards an effective and comprehensive broader concept and actually meet your goals. Sewing together scattered details to form a well-design whole rarely works.
If you want the best design possible have fun and play around with it. sketch out several different designs with thick markers first, and then do several renditions with pencils for details. Move things around, try different shapes and patterns, even if you are absolutely sure where the garden will go, try moving it to learn something new about other potential landscape factors or how you might go about designing the layout of the garden itself. You'll be surprised how much fun it is and how much more effective it is to mix and match ideas from different designs than to just plough ahead with the first great thing you thought of.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Housekeeping Secrets
My landlords need an estimate for the size of the garden I want to build. I have yet to give them an answer. I can't tell if I should make raised beds or rows. I have only ever gardened in beds, but I just don't know if I can commit to the upfront effort of raised beds this year - especially when I'm not sure if I'll be here next year. The size of my garden (as well as how neatly weeded I'm willing to keep it) will be a deciding factor on whether or not my garden will be within the confines of their large garden or somewhere else on the property. It would be very nice to have a pre-tilled, already worked and improved garden spot, but I don't want to impose. Also, he's willing to till up a plot for me, which makes things much easier, though as any seasoned gardener knows, the 10-year garden's soil grows a healthier and happier crop than freshly-turned soil that is sadly low on nutrients and love (though, hopefully, also low on pests and diseases).
I've been pretty low-key on the projects front. I haven't even cooked for myself (besides eggs and canned refried beans) for the past two days. Monday I blame on a migraine, Tuesday I blame on my excitement to see Avatar in 3D (SO much fun!) Also...I've been plotting and planning and scheming books and writing and publicity and roommates.
I hope, therefore, that you will humbly accept these two incredibly smart housekeeping secrets I learned from one of my friends who truly knows most of what there is to know about keeping a frugal house and home. I had the pleasure of living with her and learning from her, and I hope she doesn't mind that I share these two little tidbits with you. She is second only to the women who raised me in people I have learned household secrets from.
A corn straw broom with a wooden handle, while more expensive upfront than those horrifically ugly and ineffective plastic ones with square heads will last you years longer actually work (without forcing you to resort to contraptions such as "Swiffers" which strikes me as a sponge attached to a stick and taken to the more disposable level) given that you know one simple principle and that is - hang you your broom from a hook or nail or simply stand it up upside-down. This prevents the broom from morphing under its own weight and becoming useless. Also, in case you haven't noticed, wooden tool handles are easily interchangeable and useful for a variety of things from limbo sticks to pinata sticks to stick horses.
As your knives get dull, there is something to do before dishing out for a sharpening stone. Flip over a ceramic cup. If it has one of those unfinished ceramic circles on the base as a footing, you can use this as a makeshift sharpener (Most 60's, 70's and even modern mugs should - the heftier and more unfinished the ceramic circle at the bottom, the better). Kitchen knives are sharpened at a 15 degree angel with a sweeping motion from the bottom of the blade to the top, pulled towards you. One hand should hold the hilt and pulling the knife across the surface and the other should be on the flat of the blade holding the blade at the right angle and giving it some pressure. repeat on both sides.
I've been pretty low-key on the projects front. I haven't even cooked for myself (besides eggs and canned refried beans) for the past two days. Monday I blame on a migraine, Tuesday I blame on my excitement to see Avatar in 3D (SO much fun!) Also...I've been plotting and planning and scheming books and writing and publicity and roommates.
I hope, therefore, that you will humbly accept these two incredibly smart housekeeping secrets I learned from one of my friends who truly knows most of what there is to know about keeping a frugal house and home. I had the pleasure of living with her and learning from her, and I hope she doesn't mind that I share these two little tidbits with you. She is second only to the women who raised me in people I have learned household secrets from.
A corn straw broom with a wooden handle, while more expensive upfront than those horrifically ugly and ineffective plastic ones with square heads will last you years longer actually work (without forcing you to resort to contraptions such as "Swiffers" which strikes me as a sponge attached to a stick and taken to the more disposable level) given that you know one simple principle and that is - hang you your broom from a hook or nail or simply stand it up upside-down. This prevents the broom from morphing under its own weight and becoming useless. Also, in case you haven't noticed, wooden tool handles are easily interchangeable and useful for a variety of things from limbo sticks to pinata sticks to stick horses.
As your knives get dull, there is something to do before dishing out for a sharpening stone. Flip over a ceramic cup. If it has one of those unfinished ceramic circles on the base as a footing, you can use this as a makeshift sharpener (Most 60's, 70's and even modern mugs should - the heftier and more unfinished the ceramic circle at the bottom, the better). Kitchen knives are sharpened at a 15 degree angel with a sweeping motion from the bottom of the blade to the top, pulled towards you. One hand should hold the hilt and pulling the knife across the surface and the other should be on the flat of the blade holding the blade at the right angle and giving it some pressure. repeat on both sides.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Life Without a Microwave
Okay folks - first off, you will never see me advocating avoiding anything on this blog because it's scary, going to cause cancer/world war III, or is simply "evil," however, I will advise you avoid things because they use too much energy and are questionable in their safety or the purpose they're billed for. Microwaves easily fall into the questionable category. They are, surprisingly enough, not much more convenient than a standard small pot or pan, and what you loose in taste and texture is so much, that I would suggest that you start phasing yours out. Even I, who deplore doing dishes, prefer to wash a small pot to losing all of the good, hard work I've put into my meal by reheating it in the microwave. Toaster oven or stove top is ALWAYS tastier. Also, if you experience power outages in you kitchen, chances are your energy-guzzling microwave is to blame. At the very most, it's worth considering your microwave a fancy and expensive bread box, or a mouse-proof cabinet.
Here's the how-to on reheating without a microwave:
Rice, other grains, and cooked beans are reheated by adding a bit of water to the bottom and simmering, covered, over a low heat. If you're impatient, turn up the heat and stir the grain every minute or so to make sure it doesn't burn.
Soups are reheated the same way they are cooked. If they're very thick, add some water or stir frequently so the bottom doesn't burn.
Casseroles and pan-fried meals For the sake of expediency and deliciousness, I'd reheat these by frying on a hot pan. Refried meals (like beans) are delicious because you've added oil (or, even better, butter), browned the bottom, and mushed things together, which makes everything taste better. if you don't like things mushed together, add a little liquid to the bottom, cover, and heat over a low flame. If you have a lot of time to kill, throw it into your oven or toaster oven, covered, on 350 degrees and wait.
Anything meant to be cooked in the microwave such as frozen burritos and tv dinners can be cooked (covered) in a pan or in the toaster oven. In the case of TV dinners, transfer to meal to an oven-safe baking dish before melting plastic in the toaster oven. This is the only case in which it will take more time to cook, but burritos are much less soggy when toasted or fried, and tv dinners will thaw very quickly in the frying pan but will still be disappointing. In the case of Ramen noodles and such soups, cover with boiling water until cooked or simmer for a minute.
And please, immediately throw away any recipe books for "microwave cooking." This is not cooking. It is, in fact, a farce. Anyone who thinks their 12-year-old child can't cook a meal without the help of the microwave would do well to wonder how 9-year-olds helped their mothers in the kitchen 100 (or even 70) years ago.
Here's the how-to on reheating without a microwave:
Rice, other grains, and cooked beans are reheated by adding a bit of water to the bottom and simmering, covered, over a low heat. If you're impatient, turn up the heat and stir the grain every minute or so to make sure it doesn't burn.
Soups are reheated the same way they are cooked. If they're very thick, add some water or stir frequently so the bottom doesn't burn.
Casseroles and pan-fried meals For the sake of expediency and deliciousness, I'd reheat these by frying on a hot pan. Refried meals (like beans) are delicious because you've added oil (or, even better, butter), browned the bottom, and mushed things together, which makes everything taste better. if you don't like things mushed together, add a little liquid to the bottom, cover, and heat over a low flame. If you have a lot of time to kill, throw it into your oven or toaster oven, covered, on 350 degrees and wait.
Anything meant to be cooked in the microwave such as frozen burritos and tv dinners can be cooked (covered) in a pan or in the toaster oven. In the case of TV dinners, transfer to meal to an oven-safe baking dish before melting plastic in the toaster oven. This is the only case in which it will take more time to cook, but burritos are much less soggy when toasted or fried, and tv dinners will thaw very quickly in the frying pan but will still be disappointing. In the case of Ramen noodles and such soups, cover with boiling water until cooked or simmer for a minute.
And please, immediately throw away any recipe books for "microwave cooking." This is not cooking. It is, in fact, a farce. Anyone who thinks their 12-year-old child can't cook a meal without the help of the microwave would do well to wonder how 9-year-olds helped their mothers in the kitchen 100 (or even 70) years ago.
Friday, January 22, 2010
The Opportunity Cost of a Calm Life
It has been warm enough outside that I have let the stove run cold on occasion so I can clean out the ashes that have piled up and knock the creosote down out of the stove pipe. The warm weather (40 degrees Fahrenheit) makes it harder to cook on the wood stove, since running it hot enough to boil water overheats the house.
Confronted with the calm and constant pace of life I can imagine this warm January slipping into May without a fuss, May fading into the high heat of August slipping into the November chill and back again without so much as a notice or even a reminder to do such things as marvel, or travel, or take a vacation. Wanderlust overtakes my hard-won practicality at times. My desire to save enough for a house and some land, or simply to always have a bit of savings on hand at all is drowned out by the sound of distant mountain streams gurgling through my daydreams reminding me that I long for mountains. And I do. I see photos of distant lands and part of my heart quivers and begs.
That I subsume these desires in working harder for a calm and oft-overlooked daily joy seems necessary, and even important, as to adventure before providing for the things one needs to live sensibly is a childish and self-defeating goal. But the calm and steady enjoyment of daily life does not drown out the sudden shouts of lust for a bigger adventure. It is not so much the risk of failure in big adventures that stops me, so much as that I truly believe that the life that is better lived, in retrospect, is one that doesn't make a particularly good story. Thus I trade adventure for calm. It doesn't always work, I'm afraid, in fooling me into believing that I want a simply calm and joyful life. Sometimes I want adventure. Sometimes I want fame and glory; I want to steal spotlights and be known for eternity. On days such as these my usual conviction that I want nothing more than to bring joy to my small circle of friends and family through a calm, well-lived life full of small and simple courage, cannot keep its flame lit in the gusts of lust for something larger.
I used to walk as a child, with my hand along brick walls, begging one of the bricks to slip under the pressure of my fingers and crumble into a world of magic and adventure. I used to beg my mother for a real magic wand - one that really worked - until I realized I was too old to give voice to such a wish. i did not, however, stop wishing for it. Not for the sake of getting all the dishes done, no, or for curing heartaches, but for allowing adventures to unfold in the middle of a dull day of school, or a long, languishing summer holiday.
It is adventure that I have become suspicious of. More specifically, the stupidity that, in times of adventure, can be misinterpreted as courage. It is the daily, plodding courage which I am truly floored by, and to which I aspire. It is not courageous to give into love and run off with the neighbor. Nor is it courageous to go backpacking in Europe at the expense of one's entire savings account. This courage gives only a short-lived good story and good gossip for the neighborhood. It is the daily type of courage, which necessarily lives through hardship and boredom, glory, and, yes, the occasional adventure, which makes grandparents' feet worth sitting at.
We are not made to fulfill all of our wishes. Our lives are a constant process of balancing the ever-quickening clip at which life trots along with the need for calm, peace, fulfillment, and adventure. This is not a child's birthday. We will not get everything we want and only have to write a thank you note in return. What a disservice we do to children by telling them they can be whatever they want to be when we all want to be more, much more, than just one person can ever aspire to.
Confronted with the calm and constant pace of life I can imagine this warm January slipping into May without a fuss, May fading into the high heat of August slipping into the November chill and back again without so much as a notice or even a reminder to do such things as marvel, or travel, or take a vacation. Wanderlust overtakes my hard-won practicality at times. My desire to save enough for a house and some land, or simply to always have a bit of savings on hand at all is drowned out by the sound of distant mountain streams gurgling through my daydreams reminding me that I long for mountains. And I do. I see photos of distant lands and part of my heart quivers and begs.
That I subsume these desires in working harder for a calm and oft-overlooked daily joy seems necessary, and even important, as to adventure before providing for the things one needs to live sensibly is a childish and self-defeating goal. But the calm and steady enjoyment of daily life does not drown out the sudden shouts of lust for a bigger adventure. It is not so much the risk of failure in big adventures that stops me, so much as that I truly believe that the life that is better lived, in retrospect, is one that doesn't make a particularly good story. Thus I trade adventure for calm. It doesn't always work, I'm afraid, in fooling me into believing that I want a simply calm and joyful life. Sometimes I want adventure. Sometimes I want fame and glory; I want to steal spotlights and be known for eternity. On days such as these my usual conviction that I want nothing more than to bring joy to my small circle of friends and family through a calm, well-lived life full of small and simple courage, cannot keep its flame lit in the gusts of lust for something larger.
I used to walk as a child, with my hand along brick walls, begging one of the bricks to slip under the pressure of my fingers and crumble into a world of magic and adventure. I used to beg my mother for a real magic wand - one that really worked - until I realized I was too old to give voice to such a wish. i did not, however, stop wishing for it. Not for the sake of getting all the dishes done, no, or for curing heartaches, but for allowing adventures to unfold in the middle of a dull day of school, or a long, languishing summer holiday.
It is adventure that I have become suspicious of. More specifically, the stupidity that, in times of adventure, can be misinterpreted as courage. It is the daily, plodding courage which I am truly floored by, and to which I aspire. It is not courageous to give into love and run off with the neighbor. Nor is it courageous to go backpacking in Europe at the expense of one's entire savings account. This courage gives only a short-lived good story and good gossip for the neighborhood. It is the daily type of courage, which necessarily lives through hardship and boredom, glory, and, yes, the occasional adventure, which makes grandparents' feet worth sitting at.
We are not made to fulfill all of our wishes. Our lives are a constant process of balancing the ever-quickening clip at which life trots along with the need for calm, peace, fulfillment, and adventure. This is not a child's birthday. We will not get everything we want and only have to write a thank you note in return. What a disservice we do to children by telling them they can be whatever they want to be when we all want to be more, much more, than just one person can ever aspire to.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Undoing Boredom
Ah, winter. You really are a blessed, restful time of year. I come home, cook a little, clean a little, read, and enjoy the general calm and freedom of not having much to do. Last night I even played dress-up in anticipation for some parties and events in the near future. The tasks of winter are small on a homestead. They revolve around staying warm and keeping oneself usefully occupied. If you put off for the summer what you could have done in the winter, it will not get done. Thus, staving off boredom should not only never be a problem but cannot be allowed to get in the way of productivity (boredom being self-inflicted laziness, not actually an outcome of having nothing to do). As far as I am concerned, boredom was invented once we found enough things that were just senseless enough to be considered doing something while actually doing nothing at all. As a result, doing nothing became a task rather than a delightful part of the calmer moments in life, and it became something we are now incapable of doing without the help of electronic devices. Just relaxing is no longer possible. In times before TV, internet, radio, and other all-consuming amusements it was typical for a person to find herself with nothing to do and actually enjoy it as a welcome break. Now we call that meditation and market it for incredible amounts of money and status.
When blackouts force us away from the TV and internet, cities suddenly become friendly, almost euphoric places. We suddenly find that there's an incredible range of things to amuse ourselves not the least of which are our neighbors. Also, we learn to calm ourselves without the aid of electronic narcotics. When one does not have a TV or radio (yes, I am guilty for this much of the time) droning on in the background, the brain has moments to relax, wander, and, occasionally, to attain enlightenment, if only for a brief moment. Most importantly, it cannot convince the body to sit still and play solitaire because it's busy listening to the radio and doesn't want to do anything else taxing as it's already doing something, thank you. This creates and encourages boredom and incredible acts of desperately doing nothing useful for weeks on end, simply because one is addicted to the TV or internet, or, heaven forbid, solitaire.
Therefore, I must now commit myself to that which I have dreaded for a while - I must turn the radio off. I am addicted. I have the radio on when I write, when I think, and when I do just about anything, and, to be frank, it gets in the way of my thinking real thoughts. I will permit myself my favorite programs, an hour in the morning, and an hour after work or Marketplace (for the purpose of winding up and winding down, respectively). But I do not need to be so saturated with music and the news. I know more about the daily news than anyone else I know, and it gets in the way of normal, social interaction. Also, it's hard to maintain my own opinions when they're constantly being shouted over. I can still listen to Podcasts of everything at work when doing menial tasks, since I have no choice, at work, but to do boring tasks. However, I am through excusing doing boring, meaningless things at home on my own time.
Living a frugal, seasonal, and self-reliant lifestyle is work, but it's pleasant and useful work. Given enough distractions, however, it becomes impossible. The radio forgives an hour, midday, listening to Late Edition, which I hate anyway, just because it's something to do. This regardless of the fact that I would actually rather chop wood - it's simply the hurdle of actually getting my coat on and starting that gets higher because it would require turning the radio off, which is, after all, already giving me something to do.
I am done!
When blackouts force us away from the TV and internet, cities suddenly become friendly, almost euphoric places. We suddenly find that there's an incredible range of things to amuse ourselves not the least of which are our neighbors. Also, we learn to calm ourselves without the aid of electronic narcotics. When one does not have a TV or radio (yes, I am guilty for this much of the time) droning on in the background, the brain has moments to relax, wander, and, occasionally, to attain enlightenment, if only for a brief moment. Most importantly, it cannot convince the body to sit still and play solitaire because it's busy listening to the radio and doesn't want to do anything else taxing as it's already doing something, thank you. This creates and encourages boredom and incredible acts of desperately doing nothing useful for weeks on end, simply because one is addicted to the TV or internet, or, heaven forbid, solitaire.
Therefore, I must now commit myself to that which I have dreaded for a while - I must turn the radio off. I am addicted. I have the radio on when I write, when I think, and when I do just about anything, and, to be frank, it gets in the way of my thinking real thoughts. I will permit myself my favorite programs, an hour in the morning, and an hour after work or Marketplace (for the purpose of winding up and winding down, respectively). But I do not need to be so saturated with music and the news. I know more about the daily news than anyone else I know, and it gets in the way of normal, social interaction. Also, it's hard to maintain my own opinions when they're constantly being shouted over. I can still listen to Podcasts of everything at work when doing menial tasks, since I have no choice, at work, but to do boring tasks. However, I am through excusing doing boring, meaningless things at home on my own time.
Living a frugal, seasonal, and self-reliant lifestyle is work, but it's pleasant and useful work. Given enough distractions, however, it becomes impossible. The radio forgives an hour, midday, listening to Late Edition, which I hate anyway, just because it's something to do. This regardless of the fact that I would actually rather chop wood - it's simply the hurdle of actually getting my coat on and starting that gets higher because it would require turning the radio off, which is, after all, already giving me something to do.
I am done!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Entertaining at Home
Perhaps there are those of you who read this blog for practical, self-reliant living advice. Other may read it for tips on hosting and recipes. In case you were wondering what one has to do with the other, I will let you know.
Though we live in a world where entertaining has come to mean going out to eat or seeing a movie or attending the theater, eating in is not only more charming but cheaper, more self-reliant, better for the environment, better for your health, and more malleable to the hostess's wants and needs. All things being said and done, a conviction in the values of frugality and self-reliance go hand-in-hand with entertaining at home.
Just in case you were wondering.
Though we live in a world where entertaining has come to mean going out to eat or seeing a movie or attending the theater, eating in is not only more charming but cheaper, more self-reliant, better for the environment, better for your health, and more malleable to the hostess's wants and needs. All things being said and done, a conviction in the values of frugality and self-reliance go hand-in-hand with entertaining at home.
Just in case you were wondering.
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