Preps

Apple Fermentation Bread

My state is home to a place with a unique and important role in the history of our country. It is a bit difficult to locate this place due to its remoteness. The official name of it was Black Hills Ordnance Depot. It was home to over 800 concrete munitions bunkers nestled into the prairie in a very unassuming neighborhood. Grazing cows and warbling meadowlarks are more likely to be seen than something as foreboding as a series of neatly aligned concrete domes. The bunkers were built during WWII as a way to increase our country's ammunition storage capabilities. A town named Igloo was built near the bunkers to provide services to those who were in charge of the operation. In 1967, the Depot was closed, the community was disbanded and the houses were moved to other locations. But the bunkers remained.

A resurgence of interest has occurred due to new ownership of the land and the bunkers. An organization dedicated to providing safe sites for humanity to flee to in the event of human or natural disasters is selling the bunkers as potential homes for those who share a philosophy of preparedness. A couple of years ago, my husband and I attempted to check out the place but the ominous, turn-back-now words spray-painted near the entrance rattled me. My husband was unfazed and was ready to keep driving forward. I threatened to jump out of the vehicle and because I have a history of doing so, he wisely turned around. The bunkers' website may be as close as we will get.  

Out of curiosity, I checked into the process of becoming a member of their community. They have an application form which includes a checklist of skills you can bring to the group. After reading through the list, it was clear that my husband would have an edge. He is a skilled carpenter. He knows how to hunt, fish and he is a master gardener. I, on the other hand, am a preparedness loser. Yes, I am a skilled talker and I can make a mean cheesecake but most of what I do would likely be considered a liability. 

In an attempt to bolster my self esteem, my daughter and husband remind me that I might have hidden talents that could be useful. My recent forays into food fermentation seem promising. I can bake bread without commercial yeast. I can take surplus vegetables and preserve them with just a container, potable water and some salt. My novice status in this process doesn't guarantee food safety, yet. But that might be the least of our worries if we are staving off a zombie apocalypse. Perhaps, I could entertain others with a tale or two around the campfire if preppers do such a thing. I can identify many birds of my state and I love bleach. Surely, that has to count for something. 

Despite my husband's definite tilt toward usefulness, I reminded him that we both have one big strike against us and that is age. I doubt the bunker community wants to commit to too many folks with impending health needs unless we can prove that we know how to forage our way to stable health. And, as I reminded my husband, I am not sure I want to stake my life on a community of folks who are more nervous about impending doom than I am. Seems like a skittish business to me. 

Apple Fermentation; Green Tomato Fermentation;
Pepper Fermentation

Noisy Fall

Rachel Carson, a renowned biologist, was accustomed to enjoying the chatter and singing of birds each spring while she enjoyed a cup of coffee and worked on her scientific research and writing. As the 1950's came to a close she noticed a curious trend. The bird voices she cherished were no longer a part of her morning. Instead she was hearing a disturbing sound, silence. Her observation forever changed the use of pesticides in our environment as she discovered the cause of the decline of the birds. The chemical DDT was making its way through the food chain and weakening the shells of bird eggs. Ms. Carson went on to write the seminal book, Silent Spring. 

In some ways, we experienced our own silent spring as current circumstances resulted in a time of eerie quiet shutdown. The world seemed to stand still as the familiar sights and sounds of humanity screeched to a halt. Gratefully, the birds continued to sing and provide us with a healthy dose of nature. Other than that, life seemed anything but normal.

In contrast, our fall is filled with some familiar noises again. At 7:08 a.m. I hear the chug chug of a school bus idling as it waits for an elementary student to board the bus on my street. Around 7:45, my neighborhood elementary school sounds its bell, alerting students to get ready for a new day. From 7:30 to 8:00, the sound of traffic increases as worker bees head to the hive for another round of duty. At 8:25, the muffled conversations of middle school students begin as they wait for their bus to arrive on the corner. Sprinkled throughout the day, the sound of children enjoying their recess time on the playground makes me smile as I imagine swinging, sliding and games of tag. 3:00 p.m. brings more chatter as school kids, laden down with backpacks like bipedal turtles, make their way home from another day of school. And periodically, the beautiful sound of a practicing marching band fills the air. 

The crack of bats and animated play-by-play coverage began again as professional baseball games worked their way to the playoffs after an abbreviated season. Sadly, the Twins did not make it as far as my husband would have preferred, but it is good to hear the sound of baseball in the air again. The sound of kids practicing sports at a park near our house also has a musical ring to it. Tailgating may or may not be happening yet but football is making attempts to happen as well. I am a certified sports idiot but I confess there is something soothing about the routine and rhythm of sports.

The evil C-19 continues to rear its ugly head and make life challenging for us and there is much debate as to what is right and what is wrong with our approach to the monster. I have no crystal ball to fill in the future blanks. I only know that I am grateful for the sounds of daily living, even when they seem a little noisy. 

 

Chain of Events

Our basement has a room I struggle to classify. We have a bedroom, a storeroom/office, a bathroom, a laundry room, a gathering room and the "other" room. The "other" room is a little room but it can make the difference between a good day and a bad day in a flash. It has been called everything from a boiler room to an HVAC room to a mechanical room to a furnace room. Or, in my case, it is the room with the furnace, AC, water heater, floor drain, hoses, filters and other stuff I don't know how to label. For the sake of this post I will simply call it the little room. 

Recently, my husband asked me if I was the one who re-positioned the AC condensate drain hose so it stayed closer to the floor drain. I gave him an I-don't-know-the-meaning-of-any-words-you-just-said look. And if I did, the answer would be a "no" as I never go into the little room. I know how to open and close the door to the room but that is the extent of my expertise. After we eliminated the possibility of an otherworldly entity we determined the hose whisperer was one of our recent house guests who is mechanically inclined and likes to make things work a little better. 

About a week later I decided it was time to introduce myself to our AC drain hose and check out the drainage situation. Indeed, the hose was stabilized over the drain and it was doing its thing properly as far as I could tell.  However, something else caught my eye. There was a puddle of water surrounding our sixteen-year-old water heater and a little pool of water settling on the far side of the water heater. The little room being a foreign land to me, I thought it best to run the situation by my husband when he arrived for lunch. It did not take long for him to say, "We've got a problem. The water heater is leaking." And I said, "We've got a problem. It is Friday afternoon and you know what it is like to get help on a weekend." 

As I resigned myself to a few days of paper dinnerware and cold showers, my husband was on the phone with his plumber buddy. The plumber graciously agreed to come right over and install a new heater if we could procure one. The next phone call solved that problem. The final hurdle was the need for one more pair of hands connected to a strong back so the heaters could be moved in and out of the basement. Bingo, my husband's nephew was available. All systems go. 

Within a few hours we were the proud owners of a brand new water heater, thanks to the generosity of others. Those who agree to help someone out on the cusp of a weekend are folks who deserve high praise. Perhaps the one who really saved us from having a full basement flood was the hose whisperer. If it wasn't for him I would never have peeked into the little room and discovered the potential disaster. 

All should be well but I reminded my husband that home equipment failures usually come in sets of three. Our dishwasher went out a few months ago, add that to the water heater and misfortune math says we have one to go. I ran the equipment replacement dates in my head and said, "Get the clothesline ready to go. The dryer is next." 

Awesome

 

A placard in my neighborhood asks the question, "Are You Awesome?" As I drive by it I ask myself, "Am I Awesome?" Hmm....Um....it depends on the factors involved with the question. Most likely, I would have to say, "Not so much." I wasn't raised to believe I was awesome and if I thought I was awesome I certainly wouldn't be allowed to state such a self-assessment in public. Pride goeth before a fall. 

The placard is really asking folks to consider applying for a job with our local school district's after school programs. I guess the usual "Help Wanted" signs aren't exciting enough anymore. That being said, I wonder whether I would want to hire someone who thought they were awesome. Here is a list of characteristics I would rather see in a new employee.

1) Are You Humble?--This doesn't refer to someone who is afraid of their own shadow. Certainly, we all need a bit of hubris to advocate for ourselves when we are searching for jobs. However, I find it much easier to work with a humble colleague than a cocky-can-do-no-wrong individual. Most work places require far more worker bees than queen bees.

2) Are You Honest?--Nothing disrupts a work environment more than dishonesty. Trust is broken and the individual in question will risk never being given credibility and co-workers will slowly start distancing themselves from said individual. Being honest is a better habit in the long run and your employer will take notice. 

3) Are You Kind?--The power of kindness can neutralize even the most difficult situations. So often our work time is consumed by challenging tasks and a certain amount of tedium. A kind word, a thank-you note, a favorite treat or a scraped windshield in the dead of winter can be just the encouraging moment many of us need when we are weary. I am forever grateful to the many kind colleagues I was blessed with over the years. 

4) Are You Responsible?--This is a biggie. I have little patience for those who don't follow through with given responsibilities. Every time the ball is dropped for a task, someone else has to add more to their workload. Bad math, for sure. If you are unable to hold up your end of the bargain, be mature enough to ask for help and work toward a solution. 

5) Are You Prompt?--Tardiness without a valid reason is rude. A tardy person sends a message that their time is more important than everyone else involved. My mother always set our main clock ahead so we always had a sense of urgency with our time. Of course, we knew that the clock was not accurate but the message was received. No dilly-dallying and get yourself out the door, pronto. 

I don't think any of my questions would make for a very catchy job-hiring placard. And I do really hope the school district can fill all their open positions. That alone would be really awesome. 

Veranda

My sincere hope was that I would not have to write this post. But, alas, here we are, seven months and counting and the big C-19 is still with us. It has changed our lives in unimaginable ways and continues to shape shift as all monsters do. The list of heroes continues to grow and at risk of offending any group who is toiling away in situations that require them to serve others in capacities that are uncomfortable to their own well-being, I simply say, "Thank You!". You know who you are and I am forever grateful to you for your unselfishness and courage. 

We have also added nuanced meanings to our vocabulary choices. Masks are no longer just related to Halloween or convenience store robberies. They are actually fashion statements and the stuff of daily commercials. Quarantine immediately implies 14-days, self-imposed or otherwise. Pandemic is not just a word from our history books. It is painfully real. Shortages are also painful and words like toilet paper and meat still make me wince a bit. Hoarding is no longer just a creepy, voyeuristic show on television. It is a choice we all grapple with. Bottles of hand sanitizers are chained down at many retail centers, encouraging customers to use before shopping but, please, keep the bottle out of your purse. On-line grocery shopping has been with us for many years but has exploded in the past few months to a level few would predict in such a short time. My grocery store has an entire parking lot wing dedicated to the pick-up of on-line orders as compared to a few parking slots just a few months ago. I have not taken advantage of the service as I am using my old tried-and-true method of arriving at stores when they first open. I usually have the grocery store to myself so social distancing is not a problem. And I am horrible at navigating the one-way aisle situation so I only have to apologize to the on-line shoppers. 

The term that I could have never predicted but has become a very real part of my life is "window visits". My ninety-two-year-old mother is being carefully protected in an assisted living home. It is no secret that she belongs to the most dangerous demographic and their group living status makes it even more precarious. Wisely, the residents are not allowed to have outside visitors which has, of course, changed how we take care of our loved ones. Gone is my ability to join mom in weekly church services and other facility activities. I can no longer drop by for a cup of tea and a cookie. I am unable to tidy up her piles of "I-might-need-that-someday" stuff. (Tidying is another way of saying "dump-when-she is-not-looking. Don't judge.) And a slice from a rhubarb pie I just made is not so easily shared with her. But, we do have our window visits now. Because my mom's room faces an interior courtyard she is required to meet me at a window that faces the facility's veranda. At first we found it awkward and uncomfortable. My choice of masks in the beginning confused her, especially if it was my Minnesota Twins mask. She thought I was teasing her with some kind of crazy writing on my mask (her eyes are not the sharpest). Now I only wear the standard blue disposable mask. We deal with weather's capriciousness by selecting days and times that are the most comfortable. The roof on the veranda provides shade and there is often a breeze that cools my sweating mask face. She enjoys the wafting of warm air on her arthritic knees and I enjoy the occasional blast of conditioning that reaches me. My mother's dementia helps her forget that we visited any other way. And I am grateful for a way to connect beyond the telephone. 

There is one term I will never adopt and that is "new normal." Folks, our current situation is NOT normal. I agree that we are making different decisions at this time, rightly so, but the configuration of relationships as they stand now should not be viewed as normal. My crystal ball has never functioned well so I have no prediction as to when we will be able to revert back to sanity but I know that we have to soldier on and take care of others in ways that make sense to us for now. And my heartfelt prayer is that we will have the patience and discernment to persevere. 

Carry on, dear friends. 

   

Repertoire

Most of us who cook have a rotation of meals we prepare on a fairly regular basis. Our choices can be based on time constraints, ease of preparation, number of folks around the table or simply what is on sale at the local grocery store. Seasonal availability often drives our choices as well. My garden is currently bursting forth so every meal includes a vegetable or two or three. I am not complaining. There is nothing better than a bowl of freshly picked green beans with a little (or a lot) of butter and a sprinkling of salt. Perfection. 

Most fresh vegetables need little intervention to be tasty but a variety of preparations can help avoid vegetable fatigue. Some vegetables lend themselves well to cooking or baking such as the ubiquitous zucchini. If you raise summer squashes you know that it doesn't take long before you are asking the neighbors if they like squash. Sharing is caring. I have several recipes I use to help manage the abundance of  squash. If I want a full meal with them, I make a zucchini dish with ground meat, fresh herbs and Parmesan cheese stuffed into little squash boats. I also like squash sliced thinly pole to pole, brushed with a little olive oil and grilled. Quick and easy. If my squash gets a little larger than I prefer, I slice them into coins, dip them into a beaten egg, roll them in Panko crumbs and saute in oil until golden and tender. Top with Parmesan cheese and they are better than french fries. Almost. I must confess that my all time favorite way to eat summer squash is straight up boiled until very tender, excess water drained off and a generous amount of butter added. Finish with salt and plenty of black pepper. My mother often prepared squash this way and I never tire of it.

Cucumbers are best just as they are, crisp and cooling but a few adjustments can be made for a little variety.  I often make a quick dressing of a little mayo, salt and a pinch of sugar. Great with any meal. Recently, I tried a recipe for smashed cucumbers with an Asian style dressing. It was an interesting change of pace but I am not sure it will be added to my regular repertoire. If you are facing down more cukes than you can eat and your neighbors are starting to avoid you, they can also be made into delicious refrigerator pickles (the cucumbers, not the neighbors). No canning necessary and pickles last a long time in the fridge. 

And then there is the tomato. A sublime gift from God, for sure. The first bite of a vine-ripened, freshly picked tomato wipes away the memory of all the sad, tasteless tomatoes eaten throughout the majority of the year in the upper plains. A plate of sliced tomatoes is good enough for any meal but the addition of bacon, lettuce and toasted bread doesn't hurt either. Chopped tomatoes, onions, fresh garden peppers, lime juice and cilantro make an unbeatable salsa. And tacos have an elevated level of taste when the tomatoes are fresh and juicy. 

I hope your meal repertoire includes plenty of garden fresh vegetables this summer. 'Tis the season. 

Worth It

"I'm going to put a $100 bill on the table if it means more of these," said my husband. I looked over at him to determine the source of such exuberance coming from a guy who is usually rather soft-spoken. We were just finishing our dinner meal and the mound of pits on his plate explained it all. Cherries, and not just any cherries. I had served Rainier cherries. They are golden yellow with a rosy blush and even sweeter than Bing cherries. And for someone like my husband who has a sweet tooth, they are certainly one of his favorite fruits. The only thing not to love about these cherries is the cost. They are often double or more the price of Bing cherries and are not always as readily available. 

My husband does not do the grocery shopping so he is at the mercy of my purchases. When Rainiers start appearing in the store I usually stall out when I see the price. Knowing how much he loves them, I eventually break down and purchase a few, hoping he will not push the issue. That never happens. He always asks for more and I always reply, "They are so expensive. They will just have to be an occasional treat." This dialogue has been going on for years until this year when he decided to remove all barriers and throw in the cash. No cash actually changed hands but I have been a little more generous in my cherry purchasing decisions. 

We are certainly enjoying the cherries but more than that, we are in the feast season of fruits. Apples and oranges will have to wait until the clutches of winter grab us again. Now is the time for the berries, melons, plums and other juicy goodies. 

Fruit also keeps us humble. We may think we know how to pick out the perfect watermelon as we thump them and listen for a hollow sound, check for a creamy yellow spot on the underside and feel the heft of the melon, only to cut into it and discover a pale flesh with lackluster taste. Cantaloupe can be even more deceiving. The sniff test is recommended as well as applying gentle pressure to the stem end, checking for a slight give. Sometimes this works but just as often the melon is either crunchy or so ripe it is ready for fermentation. 

Bright red strawberries can also lure us into a purchase with their ruby color and promise of juicy sweetness. Sometimes they are very good and other times, there are fuzzy babies hidden in the center of the container ready to contaminate the rest of their container mates. And some strawberries are just plain crunchy and will never be close to juicy. Raspberries are even riskier. It seems that I have a twelve hour window from their purchase time to eating time or I have a moldy mess on my hands. 

Yes, fruit can be risky business and expensive, too. But, for those of us in the upper plains, it is time to eat away. Soon enough we will be back to apples and oranges and of course, none of us wants a bad case of scurvy.