
As an early birthday present, Brian gave me six yards of beautiful, crazy fabric last week – which I wasn’t expecting at all (he gave it to me to prove a point in an argument about how “yes he would so buy me fabric”)….. and this weekend I spent some time making a couple of market bags out of an Alexander Henry print which turned out quite nicely (if I do say so myself). I’m just learning about interfacing – which I used on one side of the fabric – and I even made wallet pockets inside each of these bags (interfaced and lined!)
To make the bag, I used this tutorial from Oh Fransson for lunch bags and altered it according to the size of fabric I had to work with. Also, I decided to attach a strap instead of doing the grommet-handle thing because I wanted a wider strap that could go over the shoulder. Now that I’ve got the pattern figured out (you can see my prototype bag sans interfacing below), I can knock one of these off in under an hour. Easy-Peasy!


“…it is questionable whether Christ departed from life with the words we find in the Holy Scriptures, those of Mathew and Mark, My God, my God, why hast Thous forsaken me, or those of Luke, Father, into Thine hand I commit my spirit, or those of John, It is fulfilled. What Christ really said, word of honor, as any man on the street will tell you, was, Good-bye, world, you’re going from bad to worse.”
Jose Saramago, The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis
Three days into my new fitness regime and I am *stiff, sore, cramped, achy*…… and….. grateful. Because isn’t that an awesome feeling? The “I worked myself so hard that I’m practically crippled but aren’t I a badass?” feeling.
If only, eh? In my case it’s more like “I am so out of shape from slacking on the gym for six months and now I’m paying for it in every possible corner of my body.” But either way, it means I’m shaping up for the new year. For assistance with this, I’ve joined a motivation program at my local YWCA which meets once weekly for discussion, nutritional support and fitness explorations. That’s every Wednesday for the next twelve weeks, and I’m counting on it being the kickintheass I need to get myself back into a regular gym routine.
You know how there are thin years and fat years? Okay – maybe you don’t know that, but my life can pretty much be divided up that way. 2010 was definitely a fat year – even though I was in good shape at the start. But then I hurt my shoulder working out which threw my routine – and then I started gaining weight due to a couple of other lifestyle issues which left me discouraged about working out even more than the injury. Finally, I decided to start riding my bike to work which was awesome, but not in that I then started skipping the gym altogether and completely abandoned some of my other healthy habits. I was on the road for most of the fall, eating in restaurants and generally being stressed…. Upshot? I spent all of 2010 gaining weight.
So I’m aiming for 2011 to be a thin year, or at least a thinner one now that I think I’m on the other side of an addiction cycle and I’m ditching some of my stressors in the form of union responsibilities. Probably even more important than having a thin year is getting my fitness levels back up to where they were this time last year because I miss that feeling of strength, flexibility and general awesomeness in my body – and I am planning several hiking trips (first one in April) that I’d like to enjoy.
And honestly? I have missed working out and how it energizes and breaks up my days in addition to the fact that I sleep better, am more flexible, and have less lower-back pain from sitting at a desk all day. It’s just such a worthwhile use of an hour a day that I’m not sure how the laze-monster wins out so often and keeps me pinned to work (or housework) instead (and no, it’s not because of some subconscious desire to be unattractive so let’s not go psychoanalyzing down that road).
In any event I’m recommitting each day, hoping that the YWCA program gives me the support I need to rally my internal resources, and back at working out and monitored eating. Again? Yes. Again.
We’re about halfway through the months when canned food is most appreciated – a supplement to sparse local foods available, a taste of the past harvest and market purchase. As I’ve written previously, B. and I did an awful lot of canning last summer and fall – about 250 pounds worth of produce in total, much of it picked up in Keremeos during the height of cheap fruit and veggie season. And if I was to guess – I think we’re around a third through the stuff we put by. Some inventory and pleasure notes follow:
Applesauce: I always make a lot of applesauce, and this year we put by 24 half-litre jars of the stuff, most of which is still in the pantry. Even though I think it’s an important staple (it’s pure fruit in case there’s a disruption in fresh fruit during the winter months), unless its packaged in smaller 250-ml jars, it doesn’t tend to get eaten. A smaller jar is a single serving portable for lunches – in the future my applesauce is going only in small jars. I don’t think we’ll be making applesauce this fall in any case.
Apple-Maple Jam: B. went on a bit of a kick with this stuff and now we’ve got a glut of 500-ml jars. It’s awesome in plain yogurt and on ice cream though – and we gave a lot away as gifts. We’ll see where we’re at with it in August before making more.
Barbeque Sauce: We have twelve 250-ml jars of this in the basement and have used none of it so far. Once it’s BBQ season again (for us, that’s as early as a dry day in February) I’m sure we’ll use at least half of it. We’ll determine in the summer whether or not we’re making more next year.
Stewed Rhubarb: I had no idea when I put of 8 250-ml jars of this if I would eat it… but the end of the summer rhubarb in the garden had to go somewhere and I cooked it up with some honey and raisins. This has made for an excellent yogurt flavour – and I’m definitely doing more next year.
Raspberries and Rhubarb: Market raspberries, garden rhubarb and honey – this is probably the best thing I canned last summer. It works on pancakes, in yogurt, on ice cream and in oatmeal – and because there was very little sweetner added, the raspberry flavour is like fresh. This will be on the canning list for next year – definitely.
Beet Pickles: I only made six 500-ml jars of these and we have two left. Worst part is that these were the awesomest beet pickles I’ve ever made and I could have had a jar a week! Next year I’m doubling the amount of beet pickles.
Peaches: We didnt’ put up too many peaches this year – eight half-litre jars – which is a good thing because as much as we all love peaches, none of us goes to tinned fruit as a snack very often. I’m much more partial these days to turning fruit into compotes for additional to plain yogurt.
Peach Salsa: B. made several jars of this and it’s a popular addition to otherwise boring-ish meals. This is a definite keeper for next year’s lineup.
Tomatoes: We put up a litre of tomatoes per week of the autumn and winter – about thirty jars in total. Since we’re about halfway through these now I’d say that’s about right. Home canned tomatoes are an essential since they tend to pick up a lot of leachate in the industrial canning process.
Tomato Salsa: B. made about 12 250-ml jars which is probably exactly right. We can use a lot of salsa – I cook black beans in it and add it to chili when we have enough to go around. When we’re having a party, we just open up a can and serve with chips!
Tomato Sauce: We only made twelve half-litre jars which we only have two of left. Tomato sauce requires a huge volume of tomatoes cooked down for hours but is totally worth it. Next year I would double the amount of tomato sauce.
Tomato Chutney: I don’t know how many jars of this I ended up with – ten half-litre jars sounds about right. While I love this stuff, there’s only so many things that chutney goes on and I’m pretty sure this batch is going to last two seasons.
Dill Pickles: My dill pickles turned out edible for once – so the ten half-litre jars are getting eaten. Definitely will put pickles on the roster for next year, and am making a note to try processing them for a shorter time in order to keep them from mushing up.
Pickled Onions: I pickled some pearlette onions which was a total nightmare of onion fumes – and we haven’t opened the two jars I made yet, though I’ve noticed we eat the perlettes out of the dill pickles all the time. I think more mixed pickle is the answer.
Bread and Butter (Sweet) Pickles: I love these on cheese sandwiches and would stick with making 6-10 half-litre jars of these next summer.
Cherry Jam & Cherry Marmalade: We only made a few jars of these and they go great with yogurt (that’s about all we use jam for in our house). A few jars are fine, otherwise I’m thinking a compote might be the better way to go.
Apple-Ginger Chutney: Like the Tomato Chutney, we have a *lot* of this and I’m pretty sure it will last us into next summer. I love the stuff, but we don’t eat curries that often and this pretty much only goes well with curries and meats.
I think that’s pretty much the inventory as it stands right now – and I know that next year I also want experiment with garlic pickles and tomato paste as well as some more low-sugar fruit compote blends because they go in and on everything. Sauerkraut as well. Also, I’m hoping to get the pressure canner on the stove this year to experiment with what canning fish and other low-acid items might look like for adding to our food security and winter meals.
Although a lot of people regard canning as too much work – I never, ever regret having put the time in when I’m eating fresh-tasting raspberries in the winter, and when I know that our food quality is significantly higher for having done so.
Picking up from yesterday…..
When I moved to the Sunshine Coast in 2005, I was battling fierce depression except I didn’t know it at the time. I thought my generally sad mood was just the way I was and could be explained by the fact the world was a no-good place. “Who could be happy with all the sadness and badness in the world?” I thought. “The only way out of this is to move to the country.”
And so I did. While keeping my job with a four-day-a-week commuting plan, I moved myself to Roberts Creek and rented a house with a woodstove on a quarter acre.
In hindsight, it seems a little nuts to me that I made such a major life decision in the middle of a major depression. But as noted above, I didn’t really know that’s what it was. And besides, it turned out to be a really good thing even though my early time there was awfully dark.
My first six months were spent mostly by myself – though some friends from the city visited and I traveled to work in the city. I met people on the commuter ferry and made some cursory relationships in the Creek – but mostly I split wood, read books, and worked on an epic cross-stitch project. In December and January a series of things happened all at once – I got a union contract to work from home for a couple of weeks, a mentor of mine died, I had surgery to pull my wisdom teeth which left me in significant pain, and one of my actual only friends on the Coast failed me spectacularly. The upshot was that I spent the better part of a month entirely alone, with a the exception of a wake and a family visit sandwiched in between the sadnesses.
As the pain in my mouth receded, something else was happening simultaneously. Like a light switch being flipped deep inside of me, I woke up one day and was no longer depressed. No longer sad, no longer fearful, no longer socially anxious to the point of hermitage….
And then my life started to move again. I made plans to go on a three week trip to visit friends in northern and southern California (my first desert trip), returned from there and bought my home in Gibsons, moved in by April, started teaching myself how to sew and quilt, and planned hiking and canoeing trips as the days grew warmer. All fabulous….. but still…….
The thing about moving to a small town where you know hardly anyone and then commuting to work is that you don’t get the opportunity to meet anyone, nor does anyone invest in you as an outsider (so many people drift through these small coastal communities, no one really takes you seriously until you stay put for several years). So even though my life picked up considerably, my weekends and evenings were almost always spent alone. Alone reading, alone sewing, alone hiking, alone having breakfast….. (Alone having a major crises that involved the FBI and several of my friends).
Sometimes I craved that alone after a hectic week at work, but there were also times I dreaded having to fill 72 hours all by myself. During the crisis period especially – I crawled with the idea of my quiet duplex on the hill. But I did it anyway. For three years living on the coast I managed to spend the vast majority of my free time alone and in the end came out healthier for it.
When it came time to move back to the city in order to meet some professional aspirations, I left my home with a friend who was renting from me and returned to an apartment in my old east-van ‘hood. Surrounded by the city 24-7 again, I found my old habits had been changed by my time outside. I no longer sought out people in cafes and bars after work. I wasn’t particularly interested in plugging myself back into where I had once agitated and fought. The noises in my head were considerably quieter. Every once and awhile I kicked up against my life from before and instead of welcoming me back in, it felt foreign.
From there I have made my way into this present – a place where I am the most grounded, and the happiest I have ever been. I find life much easier with love. I don’t ever dread weekends with a sharing, caring person to explore and do with. And my tasks are so much lighter with someone who makes me giggle.
But when I think about those years halfway cut off and having to do pretty much everything for myself, I recognize the value that solitude brought to me.For all that time, I heard myself – healed myself – and vanquished parts of my past worth leaving behind. And I’m stronger for it of course. I laugh more often. My thoughts aren’t as dark.