Thorncrest Farms (and I am tired)

Inspired by our friends Theresa, Jamie, and Karl, who became members of a community supported agriculture (CSA) farm in New York, Matt and I researched a couple local farms in our area who had similar programs. We found a farm that would let us join mid-season, and last Wednesday, we picked up our first share of locally-grown, chemical-free, just-picked vegetables. We knew the share was large enough for a family of four, but it was summer, and we figured we could handle the challenge.

I was surprised at how excited Matt and I were about joining the program. After I made the initial calls to the farms, Matt asked me several times each day if I'd heard back from any of them. Then, on our pick-up day, we ended up so early, that we went to Menard's for light bulbs and Caribou for coffee.

We both loved visiting the small farm and talking with the farmers. When we asked how to cook some of the vegetables we were less familiar with, a common theme emerged: pan fried in butter. We left with 19 pounds of food, and, like I said, we were ready to take on the challenge of using it. On the way home, I looked at Matt, happy and hopeful for our healthy choices, and he said to me: "You think we can use it all, don't you." I nodded eagerly but he shook his head and said, "I'm not so sure..."

Like we used to do at Halloween, we spread out the bounty when we got home to take it all in. We had beets, rutabaga, kohlrabi, potatoes, onions, broccoli, carrots, red cabbage, green cabbage, cucumbers, basil, zucchini, green beans, snow peas, and radishes.

That night, we stayed up until 1:00 am. We shopped for pickling spices and jars, and then washed, chopped, and parboiled. Since then, the introduction of 19 pounds of vegetables into my home has doubled the number of dishes I've had to do and left me exhausted each night. I've cooked dinner each night, snipped the ends off of an endless supply of beans, and made chocolate zucchini bread. I've got plans yet tonight to make coleslaw and pesto.

(I just had to run to the kitchen to put the wheat bread in the oven.)

We're trying so hard to eat better, cook for ourselves, and make sustainable choices, but I just don't know if this is a sustainable for me. Right now, I'm working shorter days, home usually by 3 pm at the latest. When school hits, especially in my first year as a dorm parent, how can we possibly cook 19 pounds of vegetables each week?

I think we needed to split the share after all. Any takers?

Rice County Fair (MN State Fair, here I come)

I love the Minnesota State Fair, and I love the county fairs back home. Yet, somehow, I've managed to miss the Rice County Fair every year I have lived here in Faribault. It's in July, and that tends to be when Matt and I leave Minnesota to travel home or see the world. This year, we got home from Florida just in time for the fair, and I was psyched.

We decided we'd head out on Saturday, and early in the day I started pestering Matt about when we would leave. I had images of cheese curds, fried oreos (see last year's blog), and maybe some cotton candy in my head, not to mention all of the strange chickens and rabbits we'd see in the animal barns. I even brought my camera. We finally headed downtown around 3 pm. Matt made us park in the $2 lot, which was a two minute walk away from the fair grounds. I didn't think the $5 fair parking was that bad, but Matt said, "Just in case we don't stay very long." I should have known then.

Thirty minutes later, we were back in the car.

This is the only photograph I took:

The Cost of Being A Princess

All over Disney World, you can see young girls dolled up like Disney Princesses. There's Belle and Ariel, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella and Jasmine... The Disney Princesses have become a major marketing theme at WDW; they even have their own website where you can play games and watch videos (oh, and shop for princess gear).

The packages aren't cheap. The least expensive, at around $50 includes only a princess-style hair-do and a tiara. A full makeover, including a princess dress and shimmery make-up, runs between $189 and $250.


For a very special treat on a Disney-rific vacation, and for a little girl who really wanted it, I guess I can understand spending the money. You know, for a once in a lifetime princess makeover.

But, it was so hot and humid in Orlando in July. No adult, other then the cast members employed by Disney, would even think of wearing a polyester dress and uncomfortable princess shoes while caked in an inch of make-up with their hair pulled back in a tight bun with a tiara. I could understand why we saw so many of the little princesses crying.


(Jasmine and Cinderella)

Coming Home

When I was young, my mom always made us clean up our rooms before we left for a trip. It used to annoy me, but I've fallen into the same habit as an adult. Today, after three weeks of traveling and with unpacked boxes from the move left to tackle, I found a happy surprise: a clean bedroom, with a made bed and clean sheets. Simple pleasures, eh?

Happy Birthday, Matt!

A Visit Home to Connecticut

My mom thinks that I don't think of her home in Connecticut as my home because I didn't grow up there, and in fact, I've never really lived there, outside of a couple of weeks of college vacation. I don't think of Wallingford as my hometown but I do feel like I am at home when I am at my mom's. She's wrong because I think she confuses the idea of a hometown with truly being at home. It's home because I sleep well there and because I wake up to coffee made for me. It's home because my old toys and books are there, carted lovingly over the years from home to home. But of course, most importantly, my mom's house is Wallingford is home because my mom is there.

My mom and I have routines when I visit, which I think are part of her routine when she's alone, too. We scope out yard sales and consignment shops for bargains; we head to Macy's but skip the rest of the mall. We make coffee and sit outside and look at her garden. We walk around her neighborhood to look for what houses are for sale or we walk the trail at a nearby park. We drive to Wesleyan to check out the changes since I graduated. We visit my grandmother for more coffee. It's routine, possibly bordering on ritual or tradition, and I look forward to each one because my normal routine in Minnesota is hectic and filled with people and kids and work and noise and meetings.

As I get older, I find myself building my own rituals that mirror my mother's. After I found my mom watching Sunday Morning on CBS at the unheard of hour at 8:00 am, I got hooked. I started waking up a little earlier every Sunday and watching it as I read my newspaper and drank coffee. I've tried to carve out more summer time vacation at my own house, planting flowers and tomatoes and enjoying just being home. I scope out the yard sales here, wake up early almost every day to have a little time to myself before the day slips away, and, most obviously, make coffee with milk (not nearly as much as my mom and my sister) every chance I can get.

A Day at the Flea Market

My mom wanted to spend the day at a flea market, Elephant's Trunk, about an hour away from her house. I was all for it even though I have a house full of unpacked boxes back home in Minnesota. My mother, husband, sister, brother, and sister-in-law piled into two cars and headed off for New Milford. We got there kind of late, and, in fact, some dealers were already packing up to go, but there were plenty of interesting things to see.

My mom is usually on the look out for American pottery from the 1900s-1960s or jewelry, and my sister likes to look at "old stuff" like jewelry, records, and music memorabilia. My brother and his wife checked out the books, picking out a 1980s era College Algebra textbook and a discounted hardback novel. Matt, my husband, looked at wooden cigar boxes but didn't like the prices on any he saw; plus he's a little more committed to reducing our possessions than I am. I was looking for wall art and smart relics of pop culture, like pins and posters and coasters.

Although the sun was hot that day, we wandered the aisles, marveling at the prices on the toys we used to play with. Every time we asked about the price of something, the dealer would give us a spiel on why it was valuable even if it seemed like junk. Still, my mom and I found some bargains: she bought 2 Hitchcock chairs for $15 a piece and I found a set of eight 1950s Double-Cola posters to frame in my new kitchen ---