Sláinte

The local food movement has been big out here long before it really became a thing—which shouldn’t be surprising, since this region has a lot of agriculture and a fairly long growing season (and a lot of hippie types of all ages). Newly ensconced in one of the oldest sections of town one year ago this month, we were very happy to see that several homeowners nearby had converted their boring lawns into prime gardening spaces. A few have really invested in their urban gardening, constructing attractive raised beds and filling the area around them with warmth-hoarding rock.

And I have a mission for 2013.

If you eat paleo or primally, at least. For those of you not on one of those bandwagons, you may find some amusing items nonetheless ...

What a ridiculous question that is, right? After all, I’m quite certain no beavers or termites are among the seven regular readers here. Still, some of you might be consuming cellulose from wood and not know it.

It ain’t always so.

Never really intended to have one, much less create it myself. But after a conversation with Lobo this morning, one fell in to my mind—and it seems practically perfect in every way.

Bet most of y’all never expected me to channel Imelda Marcos. Truth be told, I’m not—this is the first pair of new shoes I’ve bought in at least five years. And they aren’t pretty. Still, I adore them.

I should have seen this coming—I’ve been pissing and moaning about how technology is destroying food quality, and while that can happen, technology can also improve some things.

For those of you wondering what I mean, it’s this resolution, begun later than intended. Tomorrow is the six–week marker, so I indulged my curiosity this morning and checked some stats.

I’m not sure if whatever cheer you seven gain from my recent slump being so short–lived will offset my returning to a theme that some may find tiresome. Be that as it may; it’s a topic that is only going to be increasingly important unless (or until) the collapse comes.

Alternatively titled as Making the World a Better Place, Part the Second. (And if anyone needs/wants a refresher on what “S.E.S.” stands for, here you go.)

This particular S.E.S. is pretty brutal. We’re required to be physically and mentally sharp; and if one of us isn’t, a frequent result is pushups for us all. There’s a lot of protocol one must adhere to as well; and bowing—a lot of bowing. Just in case my comments haven’t given it away to everyone, the S.E.S. of which I speak is karate; and what I’m doing in it can best be summarized as, “Loving it!”.

My first attempts at lacto–fermentation, that is. A regular component of all our meals (except for breakfast) in Eastern Europe was pickled vegetables of some sort. I don’t recall not enjoying any of the variations I had ... the rest of the family seemed not so thrilled, especially with cabbage–based dishes, but they did enjoy the cucumber pickles. So I’ve taken the plunge, and am trying to make some pickles at home.

I will address the gross oversimplification of that statement, after interested readers follow me to the viewing room for a fascinating presentation.

It could actually be more; I didn’t keep close track.

This has actually been a long time coming, but it took me a while to realize it. Anyway, if you want to know, pull back the stage curtain ...