A Passionate Love Affair

Since I went on an unintentional hiatus from my blog for a few months (er, years), I wanted to get back into some of the themes of the original intention of the blog...my first and oldest love (well, in the crafting world, anyway): sewing. And, although the time that an industrious homesteader has (that is, time when an adorable toddler isn't "requesting" the pleasure of my appearance...and immediate attention...vociferously) has to be split between "need to do" and "want to do", and the "want to do" list is always increasing...I still find time to sew.

And, maybe it's my new domestic role, or maybe it's a desire to use up some awesome fabric that just doesn't work for normal apparel, but, for the past year or so, I've been having a passionate love affair with aprons. I had to move my collection of apron patterns out of my normal pattern storage spot and into a file of their own. And, I have not one, but TWO pantry doors covered in handy dandy hooks to keep all of my aprons close at hand. I've probably made over a dozen aprons (some for myself, many others as gifts), but one of my favorite recent projects was a birthday gift that I made for Eric's sister, Kari.

I found this awesome bicycle fabric (with coordinating polka dots and stripes) at M&L Fabrics in Anaheim, CA.


I fell in LOVE with it, and it just screamed "KARI" (an amazing athlete, and cyclist in particular) at me. And, like so many of my favorite fabrics, it seemed perfectly suited for an apron (as much as I would love a polka-dot striped bicycle print dress, I'm afraid of what Clinton Kelly and Stacy London would say - or do - to me if I tried to strut my creation down the street).

I decided to use a new pattern, Jamie Christina's "Pretty Ditty Apron".


Things I LOVE about this pattern:
1. It's reversible!
2. It comes in multiple sizes, including toddler and girl sizes (I cannot WAIT until Elsa and I have matching aprons :) ).
3. It's a full apron without looking frumpy or smock-like.

Things that I did not love about this pattern:
1. I couldn't figure out how to place the ruffle along the bottom of the apron skirt so that it would show on both sides (in the pattern pictures, there is a ruffle peeking below the skirt when viewed from the reversed side; but, since the ruffle is only a single thickness, I thought it looked tacky to show the wrong side - with serged edges - of the ruffle).
2. The directions often have you leave edges raw. I HATE raw edges. I think they look sloppy and are just asking to unravel all your hard work. Since the apron is reversible, there are only raw edges on the ruffle and pockets, so if I make this again, I might make the pockets a double thickness, and not fold under the edges of the ruffle - letting it purposefully fray, which might look better from the reverse, too.

I made the apron in a pretty piecemeal fashion (it seems like I was constantly being called away to tend to more pressing matters), but it came together beautifully (if I do say so myself)!

And, one of these days, when I find the absolutely perfect material, maybe I'll make one for myself...because, you know, a girl can never have too many aprons.

Femivore?

I read the New York Times' article on The Femivore's Dilemma today, and it very nearly sums up a lot of the philosophy and background (femivores, according to the article, are people who are "feeding their families clean, flavorful food; reducing their carbon footprints; producing sustainably instead of consuming rampantly") that have brought me to life as a homesteader/homemaker/housewife/whatever. Which got me to thinking about my role as a homesteader/homemaker/housewife/whatever...

I was once cautioned by a fellow feminist (and very dear friend) not to devalue myself by referring to myself as a "housewife". I suggested that it is society's perception of housewives, stemming from a generalized devaluing of the work traditionally ascribed to women, that needs to be re-examined and changed. (Much like the divergent evolved connotations of female/male paired terms such as "spinster/bachelor" and "mistress/master", there is nothing inherently inferior in the work of a housewife as compared with a "breadwinner"; the only difference lies with the value that society has associated with each.)

Comparing alternative feminist theories, the author suggests that "Conventional feminist wisdom held that two incomes were necessary to provide a family’s basic needs — not to mention to guard against job loss, catastrophic illness, divorce or the death of a spouse. Femivores suggest that knowing how to feed and clothe yourself regardless of circumstance, to turn paucity into plenty, is an equal — possibly greater — safety net. After all, who is better equipped to weather this economy, the high-earning woman who loses her job or the frugal homemaker who can count her chickens?"

Maybe the whole problem could be solved if I just called myself a "femivore".

Canning, Take One

Saturday, July 16, 2011 marked an epic day in the homesteading lives of Eric and Gretchen Dalquist. Being the brave pioneers that we are, we made strawberry preserves and tried our hand at canning for the first time. It was somewhat of a day-long event, starting with gathering and cleaning our supplies:

A metallic lid lifter, can tongs, a wide-mouthed funnel, and rings for the cans;


and, of course, full and three-quarter pint jars (salvaged from jams purchased from the farmers' market; as a side note, The Bruce Company, Blain's Farm & Fleet, and Willy Street Co-op are all good local choices for canning supplies).


I cut and cleaned four pounds of strawberries (thank you, Costco!) and used our wonderful food processor (this was originally a purchase to make baby food, but it has been invaluable to my housewifely homesteading endeavors) to pulse the strawberries to jam-like consistency (it took four batches of about 12 pulses each). Then, into the slow cooker they went, only to be removed to the LARGER slow cooker, which allowed for the voluminous space required of SEVEN CUPS of sugar (plus a tablespoon of lemon juice and a pinch of salt; I'm sure that salt makes all the difference in the world).


The jam cooked on low for four hours, and, meanwhile, we put Miss Elsa to bed so the real fun could begin! That is, the fire and boiling water portion of the evening.

Eric rigged up a very manly canning station outside on the deck. It consisted of a canner with a wire rack, a burner from a long-ago Thanksgiving turkey fryer, and a propane tank (oh, and a fire extinguisher close at hand).


In the meantime, I transferred the jam goop into a pot on the stove, brought it to a boil, and added 3.5 ounces of pectin. I boiled it in one-minute intervals and checked to see if it had set using the "frozen plate test" (drop a bit on a frozen plate, tilt the plate, and watch to see if the jam runs or not; if it doesn't, it's done; if it does, cook it some more).


I think it took about 20 times for the jam to set, but that's OK; we used the time to sterilize our jars and rings in the canning contraption, and the lids in warm water on the stove. (Oh, and did I mention that lots of sampling also occurred during this period? I had to make sure the folks at America's Test Kitchen really knew what they were doing. They do.)


Then, Eric used our handy-dandy jar tongs and brought in [very] hot glass jars, and I used the wide-mouthed funnel to ladle jam into said jars - we ended up having enough for seven cans. We wiped the rims to make sure no jam would prevent the vacuum-packed action to come, and used the [also very] handy dandy lid lifter to transfer the lids out of the hot water and onto the jars. We added the rings and back into the canner the jam went!


The jars enjoyed their hot water bath for ten minutes, and were then again brought back into the house. And, I am happy to say that while writing this, I've heard the glorious "pop" of seven lids sealing themselves. Hooray for successful canning (and by that, I mean no trips to the emergency room were required in the making of this jam)!

Brown to Green

My parsley is back from the dead! Hooray!!

It was droopy and limp yesterday (one day after transplant), and I fretted over whether I should trim it back or just water it (again). I opted to start with the latter option, and, sure enough, this morning the parsley was again happy to be alive!

And, in further farming news, our raspberries are almost ripe!

Let the baking of pastries and canning of preserves begin! (Yes, this is the extent of our harvest; I'm thinking we can stretch these two lovelies pretty far.)

Homesteading, part 1

Today I took a giant leap (ok, maybe more of a step) forward into my commitment to be a homesteader. Elsa and I (in an attempt partially motivated by a need to get a screaming baby out of the house and distracted) took a trip to the Bruce Company in Middleton. Even in the heat of early July, I decided it was time to add to our little garden plot rather than wait close to a year for prime planting season. So, the wonderful people at the Bruce Company hooked me up with all the supplies to grow lettuce in hanging baskets, add a few beans to one of our raised beds (keeping the pumpkins and raspberries company), and extend my herb collection to include basil, rosemary, oregano, thyme, and parsley (the latter herb to replace its poor brethren, gone to seed, in a desperate attempt to procreate before perishing in the heat of an unseasonably warm late spring - I think parsley might be the diva of the herb world).

I think seed packets should come with a bit more instructional information. Really. The helpful Bruce Company lady said the lettuces were "heat resistant", but I didn't see that anywhere on the package. And, the planting season doesn't match up with the calendar, but I guess that's why novice gardeners should shop at local places where the employees know what they're talking about (I hope).

After dinner (which was made by cutting fresh parsley and thyme - half of a Simon & Garfunkel song! - from my herb garden; totally worth all the money spent today!), I re-potted the herbs (rosemary by itself - I was advised that it likes things a little drier than its fellow herbs; the annuals - cilantro and basil - and biennial - parsley, including the [mostly] dead first attempt [maybe it'll resurrect itself in its new herb-tastic environment] - in a planter box; and the perennials - oregano, thyme, and mint - in another planter box), filled two hanging baskets for the lettuce varieties (Ruby & Emerald Duet and Sweetie Romaine), and added beans to our pumpkin and raspberry raised bed. Forty-five minutes later, I had created a very respectable extension to our garden and an extreme need to take a shower. Keeping my (soon-to-be) green thumbs crossed!

Life on the Prairie

Today was one of those days when I am just happy to be. All that yoga talk about being in the moment really hit home: Warm (and somewhat humid) summer day; singing, dancing, playing, eating, BEING.

Elsa and I spent time playing, singing, and reading at the Middleton library this morning, and then I whisked us away to the spa (ahem; the life of a real housewife of Dane County) to cash in my birthday coupon for a massage (granted this is July; my birthday was December; I tend to hoard valuable things rather than use them). The massage ended and I picked up my sweet baby from the play center, and we enjoyed some "tailgating" in downtown Madison; a shady spot, a nice breeze, and the back of a Subaru made for an excellent picnic. Of course, according to plan, Elsa fell asleep on the ride home, and took a lovely nap while I got some preparations done for Eric's birthday. When Elsa woke up, we biked through Pheasant Branch to the co-op and had a great time there - dancing included (doesn't everyone dance while grocery shopping?).

[As an aside - Elsa LOVES her bike trailer; she signs "bike" and tries to climb into the trailer just like the independent little toddler she is. As cute as her spoken words are, her signs are just adorable!]

On our ride back, what I can only assume was a family of sandhill cranes strutted their way along our path - and Elsa got a good look at those real life "big birds". We got back, safe and sound, to our little house on the prairie and had a simple dinner from our CSA (green onions and garlic scapes on individual pizzas, green salad, snap peas and carrots on the side, and a strawberry smoothie for dessert). And, as if the day weren't good enough, now we have friends coming to visit us on Thursday and Saturday! We are soooo looking forward to sharing all that summertime Madison has to offer with our loved ones. So, to sum up, I'm thinking that life is pretty good :). Right now. Always. (I will try to keep this in mind when my "alarm clock" goes off far too early tomorrow morning.)

Introduction to Homesteading

I hereby re-dedicate my blog to all things creative - and the creation of our family homestead (wherever that may be). Many, many, MANY things have change since I last wrote - most importantly, the birth of our daughter, Elsa Pearl. And, as a new mother, I have many opportunities for creative outlet, but, at the same time, am restricted by what Miss Pearl will allow me to do. As she gets older, and I get braver and more knowledgeable, my crafting has increased to include regular knitting into the mix of sewing and quilting (actually, quilting has kind of fallen by the wayside; I've come to the conclusion that you only need so many quilts before you're saturated)...projects have included scarves, hats, mittens, and my very first sweater (for Elsa; a baby is great motivation to start knitting). I'm now working on a sweater for myself - with a goal of having it done by Christmas.

To round out my housewife skills, I've been learning more about and experimenting with cooking, especially fresh produce. This is our second summer as CSA (community supported agriculture) members (and our first summer I developed a rather strong, shall we say, AVERSION to the sight and smell vegetables), and I've had an exciting time cooking greens - who would have thought that that task could be so difficult? Our farm, Westridge Produce, has presented us with several varieties of kale, chard, spinach, and the greens from turnips and radishes (among other veggies). After about 8 cooked greens dishes, I made one that was pretty tasty: and Asian inspired chard dish. Our next delivery will be tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to some new veggies (although with the very cold spring we "enjoyed" in Wisconsin this year, all of our favorite summertime produce seems to be very delayed). Anyway, all of this vegetable knowledge (and a wee bit more time on my hands thanks to the ever more independent Miss Pearl) has inspired me to hone my gardening skills a bit - and really, to go from a very brown thumb to any shade of green is quite an accomplishment. This year, with Eric's help (you won't find me making raised garden beds any time soon), we are growing herbs (cilantro, mint, and parsley - the parsley just got cut back because it was one LONG stalk; we shall see just how hardy it is), pumpkins, strawberries, raspberries, and the perennial Midwestern favorite, rhubarb (which I don't think I could kill even if I wanted to). When I got back from my run this morning, I stopped by our garden and harvested the rhubarb, and THAT is a great feeling - to cut, prepare, and eat food that was grown in your own yard (similar to cutting, preparing, and wearing clothes that were made by hand). Ah, the satisfaction of a tiny sliver of "living off the land".

To guide me through these next steps of homesteading, I'm reading Modern Homestead: Grow, Raise, Create by Renee Wilkinson. And although I don't think I'll be raising goats any time soon, the idea of an indoor Meyer lemon tree bearing fresh citrus in our prairie home sounds very tempting.