"Well, I harvest the beans every other day," my mom said, "And we've had zucchini in one form or another almost every day this week."
Our weekend was full of wonderful things: time spent with good friends, a short trip out of town, and seeing my family.
What we took home: golden and red beets (I boiled them and served them with melted butter and a dash of salt), burgundy and green beans, baby carrots, zucchini (two batches of zucchini bread!), onion, garlic, cherry tomatoes (roasted/sauteed). Everything was amazing.
[obviously I meant to post this a while back... but here you go! a tidbit from a couple of weekends ago!]
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
a new frontier
Today is Friday, and it's a rather exciting one for me. I'll tell you why. I stuck to my guns this week and managed to not use my car except for once, on Tuesday, when I had planted the milkshake idea in my boyfriend's mind and then my sister broke up with her boyfriend and came over. My car was the only one big enough to fit all three of us for our necessary errand.
But for the last 5 days, I have only driven my car 2 miles.
I have eaten at home every night.
I walked to the grocery store.
I know, I know—somebody get this girl a medal. But bear with me: this is the beginning of the new me. The enviro-conscious-and-acting-on-it me.
So stay tuned, and hold me accountable (that's for all of you out there leaving comments on my blog. Wait. There aren't any comments posted at all....), and maybe even take this journey with me.
But for the last 5 days, I have only driven my car 2 miles.
I have eaten at home every night.
I walked to the grocery store.
I know, I know—somebody get this girl a medal. But bear with me: this is the beginning of the new me. The enviro-conscious-and-acting-on-it me.
So stay tuned, and hold me accountable (that's for all of you out there leaving comments on my blog. Wait. There aren't any comments posted at all....), and maybe even take this journey with me.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Kitchen MisAdventure
My family and friends know that I am prone to bad luck, but it's most likely due only to the fact that I am more clumsy than the average bear.
And so, it comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me that my time spent in the kitchen is well-intentioned but often poorly-planned and even more poorly executed. Of course, one cannot always prepare for the unexpected: a fire at my local HEB, aphids eating my basil, projectile peppercorns, or an unwieldily salad spinner.
My idea was to make a basil pesto. I had some parmesan leftover from the pizza I successfully made last week; pine nuts in the pantry; garlic on hand as always; basil in the container garden; EVOO: it sounded like I had all the bases covered. I decided, too, that I would walk to the store to grab a few extra things—chicken sausage, some spinach, and some tomatoes.
The store is almost a half-mile away, which isn't far, but feels much farther when you approach your destination and notice an almost-empty parking lot and the employees standing outside. The store was closed because there had been a fire! My next-best option was to walk across the street to a more expensive version of a grocery store. Turns out, it didn't have everything I needed, and I paid a pretty penny for what I did buy.
Anyway, finally made it home. I went to trim off some basil, and noticed that there were little black bugs ALL over the undersides of the leaves. SO...it was time to improvise. I decided to toss spinach and oregano in the blender in lieu of the other fragrant herb. So far, so good.
Back to the peppercorns—I turned on the wrong burner a few days ago, and halfway melted my plastic peppercorn mill that was sitting on the stovetop. But, not wanting to waste, I didn't throw it out and figured that I could just "hold" the lid on. So I'm "holding" it on carefully while the pesto is in the blender, and decide to add a little bit of pepper. It's fine for about two grinds, and then... PSHHHHH.... The lid pops off, and peppercorns go everywhere (days later, I am still discovering peppercorns). I had to bring in the vacuum to fix this. Keep in mind, all the while, I'm trying to not burn the sausage; get the couscous off the heat; keep the dog away from the peppercorns (impossible), and not slip on the water I spilled earlier while I was putting the spinach in the salad spinner (forgot there are holes in the bottom).
IN THE END, two hours after the whole ordeal started (shopping trip and all)....I had a super-creamy, bright green pesto. It was delicious, and very summery! A little spicy because of the excess pepper...but still good. I tossed it with whole-grain couscous, and put fresh spinach and tomatoes on top, with some chicken/spinach/feta sausage. Then I sprinkled some leftover parmesan cheese...and voila!
I think maybe I could accomplish this again much more simply. I'm hoping to, anyway.
And so, it comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me that my time spent in the kitchen is well-intentioned but often poorly-planned and even more poorly executed. Of course, one cannot always prepare for the unexpected: a fire at my local HEB, aphids eating my basil, projectile peppercorns, or an unwieldily salad spinner.
My idea was to make a basil pesto. I had some parmesan leftover from the pizza I successfully made last week; pine nuts in the pantry; garlic on hand as always; basil in the container garden; EVOO: it sounded like I had all the bases covered. I decided, too, that I would walk to the store to grab a few extra things—chicken sausage, some spinach, and some tomatoes.
The store is almost a half-mile away, which isn't far, but feels much farther when you approach your destination and notice an almost-empty parking lot and the employees standing outside. The store was closed because there had been a fire! My next-best option was to walk across the street to a more expensive version of a grocery store. Turns out, it didn't have everything I needed, and I paid a pretty penny for what I did buy.
Anyway, finally made it home. I went to trim off some basil, and noticed that there were little black bugs ALL over the undersides of the leaves. SO...it was time to improvise. I decided to toss spinach and oregano in the blender in lieu of the other fragrant herb. So far, so good.
Back to the peppercorns—I turned on the wrong burner a few days ago, and halfway melted my plastic peppercorn mill that was sitting on the stovetop. But, not wanting to waste, I didn't throw it out and figured that I could just "hold" the lid on. So I'm "holding" it on carefully while the pesto is in the blender, and decide to add a little bit of pepper. It's fine for about two grinds, and then... PSHHHHH.... The lid pops off, and peppercorns go everywhere (days later, I am still discovering peppercorns). I had to bring in the vacuum to fix this. Keep in mind, all the while, I'm trying to not burn the sausage; get the couscous off the heat; keep the dog away from the peppercorns (impossible), and not slip on the water I spilled earlier while I was putting the spinach in the salad spinner (forgot there are holes in the bottom).
IN THE END, two hours after the whole ordeal started (shopping trip and all)....I had a super-creamy, bright green pesto. It was delicious, and very summery! A little spicy because of the excess pepper...but still good. I tossed it with whole-grain couscous, and put fresh spinach and tomatoes on top, with some chicken/spinach/feta sausage. Then I sprinkled some leftover parmesan cheese...and voila!
I think maybe I could accomplish this again much more simply. I'm hoping to, anyway.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Simplicity
I started this blog in hopes to shed light on simple, creative things with a budget. It wasn't that I really knew how to do it then (or now), but I had some ideas that I thought would be useful to people other than just myself. What I have been learning is that I have a long way to go.
An article in the Times yesterday shed light on a family from Austin (the same place I call home) who is giving away most of their earthly possessions and moving to Vermont to live on an organic homestead. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/17/us/17texas.html?ei=5087&em=&en=facbba5425ad78e8&ex=1211169600&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1211026694-BJaF/SDtorerOoVgjRZHLQ
I don't believe I'm ready to give it all up just yet: after all, I am just starting out. But whittling away at what is most important, I believe I could do without about 2/3 of the things in my possession. Most of them are not needs; they are wants. And I think, for me, the most important step in living simply is to distinguish between the two, and set definitive boundaries for those two very small words.
Years ago, I took a trip to Costa Rica. Before the trip, we were taught about voluntary simplicity versus forced simplicity. It has taken me the last 3 years to understand exactly how that can impact my life and the globe.
I am trying to make small changes in my life to achieve simplicity (and ultimately serenity), because I have seen so many people get bogged down by material possessions.
Growing up in the Church, I have heard the story of Jesus calling his disciples hundreds of times. This week, it struck a new chord with me. In Mark 10:21 we read, 'Jesus looked at him and loved him. "One thing you lack," he said. "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.'
This family in the article is donating most of their things to charity. They do not say they are doing this to follow this Christian teaching; but, I can understand it in that light.
We are living in a time when, finally, Americans are becoming aware that their own lives have an impact on the globe. Our own selfish tastes, our knack for consumerism, our push to gain the biggest and best—these are destructive ideals for the globe. On Earth Day this year, I took several quizzes to see just how much we'd need to support a world full of me. If everyone lived like I live (and I believe I live somewhat modestly), we would need MORE THAN FOUR Earths!
There are many ways to begin living simply.
For me, the first step is to rethink every purchase. At Target last night, I put down the decorative porch lights that happened to be on sale. I reasoned with myself: These are just another thing. I do not need them. If we move, we will have this other thing to pack up. They will not bring me serenity. They may not even add to the decor.
And even though I still managed to leave Target with a new straightener for my short hair, I still felt as if I had made a small success.
Some purchases I have made to become more self-sufficient. In the last few weeks, I have bought a Dutch oven, a cast iron skillet, and a bread stone. These things, I hope, will help pull me away from processed foods and allow me to sustain myself better. Then again, I keep trying my hand at bread and have yet to have a successful loaf emerge from the oven. In time, I'm sure I will get it.
I am also trying to buy more durable things that will last longer. Once I cycle through the batch of semi-disposable tupperware I have right now, I will invest in small glass dishes that can be reheated, refrigerated, or frozen. This will also cut down on the number of petroleum-based products in my life, another goal I'm working toward.
And, finally, I hope to begin buying only hand-made products, or making my own. I do not know how this will work with clothes, but I may turn to buying used clothes because this has less of an impact on the environment. (Oh, boy, my dad is going to have a field day with this..)
So, in essence, I want to find creative ways to change my life so that I can live more simply.
And while I'm at it, can I just tell you that I have been reading a lot about Yoga and meditation lately (haven't been doing much of it), and I am trying to alter my mind so that I even think more simply. This involves relaxing more to allow my mind and soul to dwell on heavenly things as opposed to worrying about earthly things.
I'll let you know how that goes.
An article in the Times yesterday shed light on a family from Austin (the same place I call home) who is giving away most of their earthly possessions and moving to Vermont to live on an organic homestead. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/17/us/17texas.html?ei=5087&em=&en=facbba5425ad78e8&ex=1211169600&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1211026694-BJaF/SDtorerOoVgjRZHLQ
I don't believe I'm ready to give it all up just yet: after all, I am just starting out. But whittling away at what is most important, I believe I could do without about 2/3 of the things in my possession. Most of them are not needs; they are wants. And I think, for me, the most important step in living simply is to distinguish between the two, and set definitive boundaries for those two very small words.
Years ago, I took a trip to Costa Rica. Before the trip, we were taught about voluntary simplicity versus forced simplicity. It has taken me the last 3 years to understand exactly how that can impact my life and the globe.
I am trying to make small changes in my life to achieve simplicity (and ultimately serenity), because I have seen so many people get bogged down by material possessions.
Growing up in the Church, I have heard the story of Jesus calling his disciples hundreds of times. This week, it struck a new chord with me. In Mark 10:21 we read, 'Jesus looked at him and loved him. "One thing you lack," he said. "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.'
This family in the article is donating most of their things to charity. They do not say they are doing this to follow this Christian teaching; but, I can understand it in that light.
We are living in a time when, finally, Americans are becoming aware that their own lives have an impact on the globe. Our own selfish tastes, our knack for consumerism, our push to gain the biggest and best—these are destructive ideals for the globe. On Earth Day this year, I took several quizzes to see just how much we'd need to support a world full of me. If everyone lived like I live (and I believe I live somewhat modestly), we would need MORE THAN FOUR Earths!
There are many ways to begin living simply.
For me, the first step is to rethink every purchase. At Target last night, I put down the decorative porch lights that happened to be on sale. I reasoned with myself: These are just another thing. I do not need them. If we move, we will have this other thing to pack up. They will not bring me serenity. They may not even add to the decor.
And even though I still managed to leave Target with a new straightener for my short hair, I still felt as if I had made a small success.
Some purchases I have made to become more self-sufficient. In the last few weeks, I have bought a Dutch oven, a cast iron skillet, and a bread stone. These things, I hope, will help pull me away from processed foods and allow me to sustain myself better. Then again, I keep trying my hand at bread and have yet to have a successful loaf emerge from the oven. In time, I'm sure I will get it.
I am also trying to buy more durable things that will last longer. Once I cycle through the batch of semi-disposable tupperware I have right now, I will invest in small glass dishes that can be reheated, refrigerated, or frozen. This will also cut down on the number of petroleum-based products in my life, another goal I'm working toward.
And, finally, I hope to begin buying only hand-made products, or making my own. I do not know how this will work with clothes, but I may turn to buying used clothes because this has less of an impact on the environment. (Oh, boy, my dad is going to have a field day with this..)
So, in essence, I want to find creative ways to change my life so that I can live more simply.
And while I'm at it, can I just tell you that I have been reading a lot about Yoga and meditation lately (haven't been doing much of it), and I am trying to alter my mind so that I even think more simply. This involves relaxing more to allow my mind and soul to dwell on heavenly things as opposed to worrying about earthly things.
I'll let you know how that goes.
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