A Sunday Haiku

A spoon stirring tea.

I smile at the sound of it:
comfort manifest

Cozy Saturday Cooking

I've been really looking forward to this weekend. I arranged things so I didn't have to leave the house at all, and these are often my most favorite times of the week. This weekend I planned to cook, clean and organize, things I've begun to appreciate doing more and more. Yes, even the cleaning!

Today was a day of cooking, baking and laundry. I made vegetable barley soup, baked bread/buns, and turned the last of the potatoes from our garden into a nice batch of whipped potatoes with nutmeg.

In the soup I used the last of the potatoes from the CSA farm, along with some dried chard from the CSA farm as well. Come to think of it, the onion I used was still from the CSA too. I added some celery, carrots and sauted it all in some olive oil before adding veggie broth, a couple handfuls of pearl barley, spices, and a generous splash of red wine, and mmmm....mmmm. Soup!

I also started another batch of alfalfa seeds to sprouting. I made a batch last week (Gord and I took turns rinsing the seeds/sprouts twice a day) and they were extremely tasty just out of the jar, or in sandwiches. It's nice to have something fresh in the middle of winter.

I'm also a fan of an easy, no-knead bread recipe from Mother Earth News (can't find a link!) - it is a very forgiving recipe and the dough can be stored in the fridge (for a more sourdough flavor over time) or frozen to be used later. The buns turned out really well - nice and crisp on the outside and really moist in the middle.

This evening we're hunkering down to watch a romantic comedy, after a nice day of pleasant Saturday chores. Tomorrow is cookie and cleaning day, and I expect I will enjoy that just as much.

Wishing everyone a pleasant and relaxing weekend!

What I Want vs. What Is

I so want to write a nice, possibly inspirational post about the Chinese New Year dinner I went to over the weekend at our Tai Chi club. About how it dawned on me (at about the 5th course of 11) that they serve one course at a time so each course can be truly savored and appreciated. About how there are certain ways to serve the dishes and pour the tea, which engender respect and courtesy. And how a 3 1/2 hour dinner with interesting and pleasant companions makes the dinner even more enjoyable. Not to mention a very cool Lion Dance.

But for some reason I just feel all blogged out lately. I'll have an idea for a post and then it will fizzle. I'll see some new connnection I haven't seen before, and then it will disappear and I can't get it back. Or I just don't feel like doing the typing and editing. The days are getting longer and lighter, little by little, but I still feel mostly in the depths of Winter.

On the other hand, the last thing I want to do is write a post full of faux-enthusiasm, so maybe it's better just to let it be, and accept What Is.

Photo of Lion Dancers courtesy this website.

Nothing or Something?

This weekend Gord and went 'out' and did three different things in one night: we went to a movie at the cheap theatre (and saw Wall-E), we went for snacks afterward at a nearby restaurant and then went to see a live comedy show (Gord had been given free tickets). This kind of "going out" is a rarity for us - we talk about going out for dinner and a movie but we never seem to actually go. I'd say we do get out for a movie about once a year, maybe.

We had a great time doing all these things this weekend - the movie was adorable and the comedy hilarious! The snacks were just passable, making me appreciate home-cooked things even more than I already do. The evening's events got me thinking, though:

How often when someone asks what you've been doing do you say, "oh, nothing much." It occurred to me that if someone asked me what I did this weekend I would have three whole things to talk about for a change, instead of saying, "oh, nothing."

But I always feel vaguely uneasy saying I did "nothing much," because my weekends are usually full of all sorts of stuff, like cooking or baking, gardening, reading books, having tea, sitting on the porch, blogging, doing laundry, doing yardwork, cleaning the guinea pigs' cage, playing with the guinea pigs, making supper, doing dishes, visiting family, reading blogs, thinking about stuff and talking to Gord about it, etc. Is this nothing? Or is it something? And if it is indeed 'something,' then why don't I talk about it like I would talk about having gone to dinner and a movie?

I've just finished reading Sharon Astyk's book, Depletion and Abundance. In it, she talks about the "home front" and how really important things happen at home. For example, the growing and preparing of food, the working together as a couple or a family, the learning of self-sufficient tasks and teaching these to others, the taking care of each other in everyday, simple ways. This stuff might not make headlines, but it sure doesn't sound like 'nothing.'

Chapter 4 of the Tao Te Ching also has something to say about the paradoxical fullness of nothing:

The Tao is empty
When utilized, it is not filled up
So deep! It seems to be the source of all things

It blunts the sharpness
Unravels the knots
Dims the glare
Mixes the dusts

So indistinct! It seems to exist
I do not know whose offspring it is
Its image is the predecessor of the Emperor

I don't pretend to know exactly what this chapter all means, but I do know that the kind of things that could be considered doing nothing, are the exact things I need to keep me going and to feel contentment and gratitude. Indeed, my weekends of 'nothing' can certainly become "the source of all things" that keeps me going throughout the week.

So the next time someone asks me what I've been up to, maybe I'll say with an enigmatic smile, "nothing, and everything."

July 2008 Challenge Update

It's nearly halfway through the month, and I thought I should post an update about how I'm doing with these two challenges. Especially after reading Chile's post about her blog-related peeves, which includes people who sign up for a challenge and then never post about it!

I have had more success with Heather's challenge than with Chile's challenge, I confess. I have mostly been able to sit down when I eat, although I do forget and out of habit will pop a carrot or cucumber slice into my mouth while making a salad for the guinea pigs, or dinner for us. I have also stopped myself a lot of the time though, put these morsels aside and then gone over to the couch and sat down to eat them more mindfully. Or at least stopped what I was doing and paid attention to what I was chewing.

Giving up eating mindlessly is what I'm doing for Chile's challenge. When I do stop, sit down and think about what I'm eating, I am glad. I deliberately think about the sun that has shone on my veggies, and the farmers and truck drivers and soil that have had a part in getting this food right here, right now, right in my mouth. My problem is that this thought process only lasts a few moments and then I'm back to being my scatter-brained self. But, it's a start.

Where I'm really making no progress at all is not eating in front of the computer or while reading a book. I seem to go into my 'do-what-I-wanna' trance state and just plop down and do it, even when the little voice in my head is saying, "hey, you're doing these challenges, remember?" I have yet to figure out why this is so hard for me. I guess 35+ years of doing things one way takes a while to unravel and change.

Time for a gatha, maybe? Here's one from the Everyday Yogini that seems to fit the bill perfectly!

When eating a sweet summer zuppa,
I vow with all Beings,
To savor each spoon of rich flavor,
Thanking rain, sun, and soil in turn.

CSA Bounty!: Week 1

Oh. My. Goodness.

Today we received our first share from our CSA farmers and it was absolutely delicious. Let me say again: absolutely delicious.

It's still early in the season here, and our Spring has been cool, so this first share wasn't big, but boy did it satisfy. We received two crisp heads of lettuce - one romaine and one butter, I think, and then a bag stuffed full of what looked like rainbow chard, some other kind of chard, and some kale.

I wanted to taste this stuff in a fairly unadulterated fashion, so I made a salad with the lettuce, and I sauteed the greens with some butter, sesame oil, salt, pepper and nutmeg.

To the salad I added my favorite salad fixins, which are some pecans and raisins, apple chunks, cucumber, carrot bits, some feta cheese and drizzled this all over with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The salad was so, so good. The sauteed greens were yet a step above that - the flavor, the flavor, it just didn't stop. The buttery nutmeg-y kale and chard were like no other greens I've ever had. I can see now how mindful eating becomes easy. When the food is this good, you just can't pay attention to anything else!

And then there was the preparation, which made me smile the whole time, because while I was cutting and washing the lettuce I remembered helping to plant the lettuce (not these exact ones - those are still too small to harvest), and I remembered gently fluffing up the leaves to get the dirt out of the middle of the lettuce. The dirt I was now washing down the drain, I knew exactly where that dirt came from and whose hands had planted this glorious food.

Things just won't ever be the same. That sounds dramatic, and I suppose it is. But my mouth and my mind have tasted goodness, and now nothing is the same.

A great day at the CSA!

It was another fair weather weekend, and this time I finally made it out to the CSA farm!

It was a Saturday perfect for onion planting, and by the end of the day I had helped in the planting of 4 thousand baby onions! There were four of us working on this task all day - Graham and Alison the farmers, along with myself and one other shareholder, Ben.

Our first task was to gently remove the baby onions from their greenhouse flats, separate them and shake off most of the soil mix (into a bin for reuse). Then we placed them in special trays lined with moistened burlap, to fend off the dry air made worse by the brisk wind. After this was done, the trays were mounted on the transplanting attachment, which is hooked up to the back of the small tractor.

As you can seen in the picture below, the transplanter is sort of like a paddle wheel. Each paddle consists of a soft rubber cup that firmly but gently grasps each individual onion and plants it, as the wheel goes around. Two people sit on the transplanter (you can seen the yellow seat backs there) and alternate placing the individual onions into the rubber cups as they come around. The onions are spaced out one every four inches, so the paddle wheel turns fairly quickly! After a while I got the hang of it, but not before planting a few onions upside down!

Afterwards, it was very rewarding to see all the neat rows of onion shoots lined up in the field, ready to be watered by the drip irrigation system. Ben, the other shareholder there that day commented aptly, "These onions are going to taste really good when we get them!" Yup, they sure are.


The farmers made the day very enjoyable, answering all of our questions and showing us how their organic operation works. Graham described how he lets some fields lie fallow in certain years, and how he uses green manures and nitrogen-fixing crops to keep the soil rich in nutrients. We were encouraged to look around, take breaks as we felt like it and reminded that "it's got to be fun." I sure had fun, and I wouldn't doubt it for a second if the baby onions knew it!

At the end of the day a reporter from Vue Weekly magazine came to the farm. She was doing an article for an upcoming 'food edition' of their magazine. She had already interviewed an agriculture professor, as well as people at the Peas On Earth Organic farm, and the proprietor of one of my favorite restaurants, Bacon. Among other things, the reporter asked if we thought that eating locally and organically was a trend with people we knew. I answered in the affirmative, but added that I see it as more than just a trend, that it will become just the way people eat, again. We talked a bit about how escalating fuel prices will be part of this, but also people's increasing interest in knowing what their food does, and does not, contain.

It was a great day at the CSA!

The Spaces In Between II

Last Summer I wrote a post about the importance of creating space in our lives, and how slowing down can really enhance one's appreciation for every day activities, like having tea or washing dishes. I'm in the fortunate position of having this week off of work, and so I've really been able to slow down and enjoy the spaces in my life.

As you can see in the picture, the fact that there is still a couple feet of snow on the ground didn't stop me from taking my book and a cup of tea out to the front porch today. The sun was warm, and in my flannel PJs and fuzzy slippers I spent a nice half hour outside, reading, sipping tea, listening to the birds and breathing in the crisp air of early Spring.

After coming back in, I did a little paperwork, made a phone call to the CSA Farm to set up a time to visit them later this week, de-cluttered and dusted my office, watched our two guinea pigs' antics for a while, listened to some music, made supper and finally whipped up some of Chile's famous hot cocoa just before sitting down to blog.

All of these leisurely activities really bring home the many things I have to be grateful for, such as: a job with good benefits, a cozy home, farmers to grow food, the simple aesthetic of having just a few things on a shelf, the unconditional affection of companion animals, the warmth of the sun, the good taste of simple food, and the time to appreciate all of these.

In taking the time to be grateful, I realize how much of a luxury these spaces in between really are. My mind leaps ahead to imagining what could happen if more of us in the Western world saw affluence in these terms - saw it in the spaces in between things, instead of in the things themselves. If we valued the time, the space, more than the stuff, maybe this would balance out better for those in other parts of the world who need a little more stuff, like food, clean water, clothes, medicine and mosquito nets. The balancing out would occur because people who feel gratitude for what they have would be more likely to feel compassion for others. Then, in my imagination at least, they would act accordingly through, for example, charitable giving, volunteering, activism, community-building, or just being neighborly.

A fast pace of life seems to leave room only for consumption and convenience, with little space or time for gratitude or compassion. A slower pace lets us be thankful, appreciative, and giving.

Either that or I'm just rationalizing my half-hour tea time on the porch.

Folk Fest Philosophy III

The last lyric that really struck me at this year's Edmonton Folk Festival was this one:

They thought that living high was living well

Unfortunately, I can't be completely sure which musician sang it, but I think it may have been Harry Manx. To me, this line really sums up the misunderstanding that our consumer-focused society seems to have: that you have to have a lot of stuff to be happy. When I write this kind of thing, I have to be mindful that I do have quite a lot of stuff myself. It is definitely easier to have stuff and say you don't need it in order to be happy, than it is to not have stuff and say you're happy just the way things are.

In saying that, I am implying that the person with less stuff looks at the person with more stuff and envies them, or at least wants to be more like them. But this is also an assumption I'm making. Will people always have to have stuff first before they realize they don't need it for happiness, or can this realization come beforehand? I don't know. It seems like a wise person would know such a thing ahead of time, but a lot of wisdom comes from experience first.

Lao Tzu seems to have been pretty wise -- here is one thing the Tao Te Ching says on the topic:

Holding a cup and overfilling it
Cannot be as good as stopping short
Pounding a blade and sharpening it
Cannot be kept for long

Gold and jade fill up the room
No one is able to protect them
Wealth and position bring arrogance
And leave disasters upon oneself

When achievement is completed, fame is attained
Withdraw oneself
This is the Tao of Heaven

This is essentially the principle of moderation in all things, and an endorsement of the merits of contentment. I like the imagery of the first two lines especially, because they provide a nicely concrete illustration of why overconsumption is unwise. It's easy to imagine overfilling a cup. It's usually done in a hurry, with little care or attention. And it's messy and wasteful too, and it causes a bunch more work in the clean-up. It is a lot more enjoyable and satisfying to pour just the right amount into the cup, and then take the time to appreciate its contents. To be content with the contents. Hmmm....there must be good reason why those words are the same.

The Spaces In Between

Sentencesarehardtoreadwithoutspacesinbetweenthewords.

It seems like life is often like that sentence: things and events crowded too close together without any gaps for reflection, or real enjoyment or appreciation.

I like how the Tao Te Ching talks about how 'empty' spaces are important:

Thirty spokes join in one hub
In its emptiness, there is the function of a vehicle
Mix clay to create a container
In its emptiness, there is the function of a container
Cut open doors and windows to create a room
in its emptiness, there is the function of a room

Therefore, that which exists is used to create benefit
That which is empty is used to create functionality

TTC Chapter 11, as translated by Derek Lin

A wheel wouldn't be any good if there was no space in the middle for the axle to fit into. And a cup that isn't hollow doesn't let you enjoy a nice cup of tea. And, except maybe in a Sims game, a room that you can't get into doesn't serve any purpose. Words have to have spaces in between them to facilitate their understanding. Life needs to have some of these gaps in it too, so we have the time to feel some contentment and peace, and so we can be properly functional as stewards of the earth.

This week has been a nice space in between for me. I have been off of work and have been able to enjoy being out in the yard, spending time with family, reading, catching up on some sleep, puttering around the house and doing all of that at a nice, leisurely pace. I've been able to enjoy the things I've been doing, even things like washing dishes, or weeding or cleaning out the guinea pigs' cage. I can stop and look out at the birds or the garden whenever I want to.

As Derek Lin says in his annotations to Chapter 11, "We simply can't do without emptiness."