getting cultured

In our attempts to be healthier, we're using culture. Okay, technically, it's "cultures". 
A friend gave us a SCOBY, which stands for "symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast". Don't be too impressed; I had to look that up for this post. 
My daughter started our Kombucha months ago. I took photos. Then I got busy with life. 

Recently because she is now a full time student, and remains a shepherdess as well as the other adult in the house, I took over the kombucha making. This means nothing is done on schedule anymore. While she took a notebook of dates, measurements, comments, etc... I look at the tea in the fermenting jars and ask, "When did I start this jar? Is it time for second fermentation with fruit? I need to buy tea....."  Then I forget about it another day. 
Regardless, the kombucha is still turning out with good flavor and a probiotic taste and feeling. It doesn't have the 'fizz' I like, but it's still kombucha, and my children enjoy it. 

Without a stove, however, brewing tea has been put off too long though. Today I am brewing a quart at a time in a glass container in the microwave. Since our microwave is the smallest available- used around here for heating cups of water/coffee/milkforhotcocoa and plates of nachos-- it's taking about ten minutes to get the water hot enough for each quart. But it's getting done. 

I've been much more diligent in keeping up with the sourdough starter given to me by another friend. I don't know how old this mother is, (that is the term for a culture; I'm not being snarky) but it is hardy. I never measure how much flour I feed it, or the water. I just add 'some' flour- either organic white or whole wheat- and a 'bit' of water every day. I have a back-up in the fridge in a form of status in case something contaminates this main starter or if I forget to feed it and it loses it's bubbles. Like I said though, it's a hardy batch and if I do see that it's losing its ability to ferment, I add a little apple cider vinegar before I give up on it. 

Harmony was in the practice of baking two loaves a few times a week. Her recipe required kneading, and she was good at it. But with the start of the semester, she was allowing more and more time to go between batches, and I could tell the timing was stressing her, so I adopted the baking. 

However, I am not one to spend time working on my upper body strength in the kitchen. So when I found a recipe for the French country crusty no-knead boule, it became my secret weapon to keeping bread in the house. It is a different texture and does not lend itself as well to different flavors as does Harmony's softer bread, but it takes little time and everyone likes it. 

Because I have this active sourdough bubbling on my counter next to my scoby, I searched for different ways to use these beautiful probiotics. Eating healthy doesn't mean my children (and I) don't have sweet tooths (sweet teeth?) This recipe for cinnamon rolls makes a super easy treat. Easy doesn't mean that it's not time consuming though, so it's not often that I can arrange the clock to have them made. 
This just might be the weekend for it! Epiphany is as good a reason as any, don't you think? 

moving to the kitchen

It's quite late after a long day of playing with/reading to/chasing a three-year-old, but I have put off this post long enough. As I stuff my face with kettle corn, I'll do my best to sum up our progress on the kitchen.
The above photo is the 'before' photo. In it you can see the ripped 1970's formica counter tops. What you can't really see is how shallow the sink is (or how stained). Maybe I just want too much, but living on a farm and cooking for six people often calls for a larger sink. My temperament wants for one that is not stained. You can also see the electric stove. Not only do I find it difficult to cook with electricity, we lose our power too often for it. This particular stove is particularly difficult because there is no rhyme or reason to the levels of heat on the dials.
The worst part of the kitchen is the 'bar' you see to the left. It serves no purpose other than to the narrow the work place on the counters. My goal was to flatten that and have one even work space for both counter appliances and people to gather. 

After assisting a friend during her labor and incredible home birth of her sixth child, I asked her husband if he would be willing to apply the same skills he used on their furniture to build counter-tops for us. He accepted the challenge and set to work following the directions I found here.

Taking out the old counter with (cast iron) sink attached was a heavy and awkward task. Whoever installed the old sink must have lacked confidence, because instead of the typical three or four screws under the sink, there were fifteen or so, and they were rusted.

It looks as though there are two types of wood going on here, but I assure you it's all the same. The way the light is absorbed and reflected from the cabinets makes it look much darker on one side. I'm okay with that. We're artists here, after all. 
My next job was to sand the wood, fill in any gaps, and seal it with a tung oil. After 72 hours, it is now ready for use! 

My favorite part of this countertop is the new open flat area for working. Besides being more visually appealing, it is a much more practical work and gathering space. 

We're especially excited about the 'new' sink I found on Craigslist. It was listed for sixty or so dollars, I can't remember exactly, but also listed with 'obo' so I made an offer. It was accepted via email, but when I arrived to pick it up, the seller and I recognised each other from a home school group and she sold it to me for $35. Thankful to her and to G-d, I nearly cried. I now have a sink valued at the big box store at over $200. The stove is the same model stove I had in my old custom built house; I missed that stove! I found this at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore for $150 a few months ago, and have been saving it. I've ordered the orifices to convert the stove to liquid propane and will hopefully get that up and cooking by next week.  

While Scott had the old counters out, I took advantage of that time to strip the paint from my cabinets. I have this problem with waiting. When I get an idea, I sometimes just move full steam ahead without considering how long it will take me to finish the job. It seemed prudent to use the stripping medium before my new counters were in place, even though I had no real plan on actually painting the cabinets yet....

Fortunately, a friend from church heard of my plight, has come to my rescue and is going to help me paint the cabinets this weekend! 
We have been very blessed by friends with the re-model. My son's godfather installed the faucet for us, and my son-in-law connected the drain, so the afternoon of Christmas we actually had running water after almost a week without. With a  little phone help from a friend who happens to be my auto-mechanic all 'round talented fix-it person I was able to install a dishwasher which I also found at the ReStore earlier last year! 
You might be able to see the floor- or lack of floor- in the above photo. We've been on the tile back cement board for several months. 
but that's another story.... 

deep in yellow

I spent the morning in the garden. I planted sunflowers.
When I moved into this house, I envisioned my favorite golden flower growing in the yard.
Determined to see the bold yellow I remember of my drives through Umbria, I painted my house yellow, and held on to the hope that I would see the blooms that inspired it.

I tried last year to plant them, but I made the mistake of sowing the seeds directly in the ground. I expected those dry shells to shoot roots down into the garden next to my bulbs and grow strong stalks along side the grasses and ground covers, tall enough to bear heavy brown centered blooms. I had to plant them somewhat shallow, or they seedlings might never have made their way to the surface. Most of them sprouted, but immediately shriveled up or fell over and couldn't grow tall enough to blossom. The little sprouts were too weak to brave the weather, and the roots and bases of the stalks weren't deep enough to hold the weight of the growing leaves. I had maybe two pathetic little flowers that lay on the ground to bloom.
I also planted bulbs in the fall, but although they grew and bloomed this spring, because I did not plant them deep enough, the stalks fell over and lay on the ground before blooming. Those bulbs will need to be dug up and re-planted. The stalks will take longer to grow next year, but the waiting will produce stronger stalks that will hold the blooms up off the ground. The effort I put in will be worth the larger blooms.

It's been almost four years since my separation, and over a year since my final divorce.

The first year after the separation, I focused on survival. I was still married; he just wasn't there anymore.  I tried to keep life as 'normal' as I could in order to keep a stable home for my children. We stayed in the same house, we went to the same church, and we kept our schedule as close to what it was before their father was arrested. My healing came in the form of dealing with separation, and managing life without another adult in the house. There was little that was apparent to my personal growth.  I was shedding pain and anger, but living one day at a time, nearly emotionally dormant, with nothing being planted for the future.

After a year, when I had pushed and prayed past the anger toward my former spouse, and learned to forgive him,  I made the decision - with the advice and support of a holy priest- to divorce and file a petition for a declaration of nullity.  I started noticing when people paid attention to me, telling me I deserved respect. I was beginning to see where Tom ended and I began- a line that had been blurred to me for the past twenty-six years.

I literally grew half an inch. Was I just standing up straighter?

I started sowing the seeds of personal growth. I was afraid to plant them too deep though, for fear they would just lay dormant and buried and so most of what emerged from the seeds was too frail when they broke through the surface. The relationships I tried to cultivate tried to bloom before they had strong roots and they either shriveled up, or fell over lifeless. I knew I needed to go deeper.

This year, I got wise. I took the time to plant the seeds in a starter box. I watered the seeds, covered them and left them to germinate. When the first seedling appeared, I uncovered them and moved them to a window.

 

I kept them watered, turned the box  when needed so the tiny stalks grew straight, and left them to grow.



 

Then I planted each seedling in rich soil, in a large pot, putting the pod deep into the pot, covering most of the stalk. Much of the growth was then covered up, and couldn't be seen. But the plants were strengthened by soil surrounding the stalks, and the depth of the roots.

When the weather turned warmer, I put the pots out in the sun, but I didn't plant the seedlings right away.

Only when the stalks were what I thought to be tall enough and strong enough did I transplant them into the garden. Then, I planted them even deeper than they were in the pots, making sure the roots had a good hold in the dirt, and the seedlings would have plenty of support for growing tall. I added more soil, covering even more of the growth of each seedling.

I've unearthed some deeper understanding of my former spouse's issues. This new understanding has brought me a great deal more empathy and even more peace. I also have more patience now for slow and steady growth.

The bulbs I dug up last year and planted deeper take longer to get the surface, but the stalks are strong, and the blooms are worth the wait. Maybe now they are deep enough to divide and multiply. The sunflower seedlings, though still smaller than the surrounding flowers in the garden, are growing straight and steadily. There won't be anything to show for the tedious work put into them for quite some time, but they show promise of an Umbrian garden, with tall strong stalks, deep roots, and lots and lots of happy, golden yellow.