There’s a really interesting piece in this morning’s New York Times about the town of Hardwick, Vermont and the Center for Agricultural Economy. Hardwick was, like many small rural towns, emptying out — main street was full of empty buildings, and there was no way to make a living. Then a group of local agricultural entrepreneurs got together, meeting monthly, loaning one another money, figuring out ways to share skills and resources so that they all prosper. Their website says that their goal is programs that: …will recognize that the 21st century food system balance be tipped towards localization over…
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It’s all harvest all the time here at LivingSmall right now — I put tomatoes up this weekend in the terrifying pressure canner, and there’s all that kale and chard I’m going to have to deal with at some point — but in the meantime my Roma beans finally came in — they got such a late start I didn’t think they’d come through, but they’ve been producing like gangbusters for a few weeks now. I’ve taken to cooking them up in big batches, then freezing them into what I like to think of as hockey pucks. One of the…
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My trip last week was a great success — my mother and I had a very fun time together, and we found two apartment buildings that look interesting and cool and that she can afford — but it was a busy week. I put just over 1000 miles on the rental car, but the trip did have some very restorative aspects, one of which was the amount of time I got to spend in my friend Posy’s garden. Because there was no wi-fi connection in the guest house, I had to take refuge under this beautiful pergola, which looked out…
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Just as I was reading this article in the SF Chronicle about people buying meat shares (which mentions my friend Bonnie over at Ethicurean and her meat CSA she’s starting), Matt, my butcher called to say that my pig was ready. Well, half a pig, actually. I bought it from my Milk Lady, and while it was stupendously expensive, what can I say? I grew up with the heirs to the Armour and Swift fortunes and well, I’d rather buy Isabelle’s kids new school clothes. Plus, if her pork is anything like the delicious Jersey milk or those eggs I…
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I don’t have a photo of last night’s yummy dinner because well, I ate it instead of photographing it, but it was one of those delicious surprises that happen sometimes when you’re just making something out of what you have. I had a bunch of tomatoes that were about to go bad on me — not enough for a real pot of sauce, three or four big-ish red ones, a few Jaunne Flammes and a handful of cherries. I dithered for a while because I didn’t really feel like cooking, I felt more like heating something up but I didn’t…
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The weather turned on us last weekend when I still had a load of clothes in the washer and I’ve become so accustomed to using my clothesline that I was kind of upset by the thought of running the dryer. When I ordered the Clothesline of My Dreams last summer I also ordered this little retractable one, but it had languished in the tool/junk cabinet all summer. It was a cinch to put up — and it seems reasonably sturdy. The clothes take a lot longer to dry in the basement, and since out of sight is out of mind…
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If you look closely you’ll see a bad bad stinky dog’s nose poking out from inside the bathtub. For the second time this week, Raymond found a dead thing in the dog park and rolled in it. Tuesday I took him to the new groomer who is two blocks away, but as great a job as she did, I didn’t feel like paying for grooming twice in one week. One of the older guys who hang out at the dog park in the mornings suggested this miracle dog de-stinking mix: baking soda, shampoo and hydrogen peroxide in a bucket (actually,…
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Sigh. It’s that time of year again. My house has been wide open since the middle of June and in the last week it’s become clear that it’s time to close the windows and, double sigh, turn the heat on again. It’s time to come inside. It’s cold out there — in the low 40s at night, and we’ve had rain so it’s damp. No more sitting in the backyard under the Coleman lantern reading novels into the night. Even with the firepit going, it’s just too cold, and too damp, and unpleasant. Part of me loves this back-to-school feeling.…
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Over at the gorgeous A Way To Garden, Margaret asks what your tendency is, to savor or store the produce bounty that anyone with a garden confronts this time of year. I’ve written before about what an inspiration Joan Dye Grussow is to my garden project, and so I think there’s nothing more to say than, yeah, I’m a hoarder. So here’s this weekend’s tomato harvest. The weather has gotten cold, and I’ve had to cover the row of plants with plastic, so now we’re in that dodgy part of the year when I have no idea whether there will…
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I’ve been thinking for days about Michael Ruhlman’s tribute to his dad — it’s just a tiny note in a really beautiful piece, but Ruhlman points out that his father died in his house, among family, and with his ex-wife by his side. We should all be so lucky, or perhaps, we should all aspire to lead the kinds of lives and build the kinds of relationships where our family and loved ones will want to be there with us for that last mile. Another dear friend just buried his beloved, last week, an incandescent woman who went far too…