Showing posts with label bucket list. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bucket list. Show all posts

Saturday, April 16, 2011

No hippie chick


My friends accuse me of being a hippie, and sometimes I wish I was. Lately, it seems like I have gotten even more “hippy dippy.” I would love to live off the grid, refuse to pay taxes to The Man, and just be generally more independent. There’s a community not too far from me that sort of lives that way – they raise livestock for their own meat and dairy, have kitchen gardens and orchards, grind their grain at their gristmill, make their own furniture. They have a blacksmith shop, a weaving shop, and a pottery shop. If the zombie-pocalypse happens tomorrow, these people are SET.

They have classes in pretty much everything they do, so that other people can also learn to be self-sufficient. My dream is to someday take the three day Homesteading class, but meanwhile, I started small. Last Saturday, I took a class in soft cheese making. I have to say, it was amazing.

First, we ate all day long. Everything we made, we sampled. The ladies that did the class had it down to a science, and it was like being on a food show. Some of the cheeses had to sit or marinate or drain for hours, so they already had the next stage done – we started it, then we got to see how it turned out. I’m a huge fan of fresh produce, but I never thought of how that philosophy would taste when applied to fresh dairy. Even buttermilk (nasty when store-bought) wasn’t too bad.

While we’re on the subject of buttermilk, I had a light bulb moment when we made that that made me feel really stupid. We started off with three gallons of fresh milk that had been allowed to separate. Then we skimmed the cream and made butter. The leftover liquid after the better had set? Buttermilk. Duh.

We made cream cheese, cottage cheese, feta cheese, cheese logs (I feel like Bubba)…all kinds of things. I am totally doing some of that for Christmas gifts! My biggest problem now is that some of the recipes really need raw milk, which is hard to find if you don’t own something that can be milked (like a cat. Or Robert DeNiro). There was a guy in the class that works at a dairy, so I might be able to work something out with him, but he lives about forty five minutes away, so that’s not practical for spur-of-the-moment cheesemaking (am I being really optimistic to think there might be some of that?).

Anyway, I’m really excited about having learned a new skill. And I’m even more excited that the skill that’s new to me is an old one. My husband’s grandmother (we called her Honey) took Home Ec in high school, and they learned how to butcher animals as part of the class. Really – cows, hogs, chicken, goats…they considered that a necessary skill for students. It’s amazing how self-sufficient people were back then. I think that’s why they survived the Depression so well. The next project I’m considering taking on is a canning class. I’ll use Honey’s pressure cooker, and there are probably some empty jars out in her garage. I’m hoping some of her skill rubs off on me.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Queen for a Day




I want a tiara

It's common for the young people here to pin money to their shirt on their birthday. The idea is, your mom, sister, BFF, etc. gives you money first thing in the morning and you pin it on. Then when other people see it, they know it's Your Special Day and they give you money too. It's not unheard of for people to seed their cash corsage with a twenty of their own to impress, but mostly other people go along with it and by the end of the day you have a respectable little sum pinned to your shirt.


But today I saw something new: a birthday girl had a tiara. She was also dressed up in a cute little ruffled dress with a jacket and some killer leopard heels, but it was the tiara that drew everyone's attention. Ironically, I have a tiara. My grandfather gave it to my mom for her birthday (16? 18? I don't know. One of those milestone ones). But a middle-aged woman walking around with a sparkly tiara is going to draw a lot of looks, and not the ones that girl was getting today. More like a isn't-she-sad-for-not-knowing-she-looks-like-a-fool-I-wonder-if-she's-homeless sort of look. Especially if I paired it with leopard heels. The only times someone my age can get away with a sparkly crown that's not an ironic statement are if she's getting married (people are very forgiving of what drunk bachelorettes do, whatever their age) or if she is part of this outstanding parade

which I have a goal of someday attending, if not actually participating in.

Maybe pointy party hats and cupcakes (or cupcake martinis) for everyone could make a comeback in the office culture. We need SOMETHING to look forward to now that birthdays are losing their zing.