Yes, Build Your Victory Gardens Now

Victory Gardens, also known as “War Gardens” or “Food Gardens for Defense,” were encouraged by the U.S. government during the first World War. By building your very first vegetable garden now, during a most unprecedented war against COVID-19, we can not only reduce our need to go out to grocery stores, but also boost morale, with a sense of accomplishment and pride. Plus, you get to spend some time outdoors doing physical labor, which keep your body healthy too!

As an avid gardener for the past 17 years, I was tasked this spring with rebuilding my garden beds for the 5th time, after recently moving once again. I have to say, I have perfected the art of building raised beds that are durable, ergonomic, and multi-functional, although quite a chore to set up initially.

It warms my heart to see so many newbie gardeners attempting their first gardens, and several have asked for my advice on building beds like our own. So, without further adieu, I give you the “Schweger Victory Garden Recipe.”

INGREDIENTS:

~ 100 concrete blocks (CMU) for a 5×16 or 6×16 bed. This is the ideal size so you can lean in and reach the center for planting, weeding and harvesting. Length can vary. Height is 3 courses tall, so you can sit on the capped top and use it as a built-in bench.

~ 35 concrete caps. These sit on top to make your garden wall function as a comfortable bench for weeding, and also social gatherings (whenever that may happen again)

~ 3’x44′ of black plastic weed barrier. Line the walls of the bed to prevent water from leaching out into the concrete. (This is also why you should NOT attempt to plant inside the hollow cores of the CMU- it gets too hot and dry)

~ 2 bags of pea gravel for leveling base course. DO NOT USE PEAS. They are delicious to eat, but make a terrible foundation for concrete. Save your peas for planting.

~ 5 bales of straw. These take up space in the bed to save you money (good dirt costs a lot).

~ 3-4 cubic yards of compost. Fill to the concrete caps. Expect to add more dirt in future, once it settles.

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Order materials. Then wait to have delivery rescheduled 12 times. And then dropped in the most inconvenient spot on your property (note: give EXPLICIT delivery instructions with online ordering).

2. Dig a shallow trench for base blocks. Imagine you’re digging mass graves for abandoned guinea pigs that were “sent to live on a farm.”

3. Gets 2-4 bags of pea gravel. Place first course of blocks, measure level both directions. Use pea gravel to fine tune levelness. Repeat 20,000 times. Expect 4-6 hours per bed. Unless dog helps. Then double the amount of time.

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4. Bribe friends to help you stack remaining 2 course of blocks. Beer, bourbon, baselining- WHATEVER IT TAKES. (You’ll thank me later). This is also a good time to realize it’s not the “weekend project” you thought it would be. Go ahead and plant some seeds indoors now.

NOTE: Even during COVID-19, with masks and gloves, it IS possible to have friends help you move blocks! Nobody is too young to help. We even put an 18-month-old child to work. His productivity was terrible, however, every little bit helps. You get what you pay for with free child labor.

5. BEFORE THE FINAL BLOCKS ARE PLACED- throw straw bales inside to take up volume. (Good dirt is EXPENSIVE!) Order compost from Greencycle.

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6. Buy black plastic (a 10’x100’ roll is more than enough, and you can use leftover in future as weed barrier). Cut to line walls vertically to prevent water from leaching out into concrete.

7. Install plastic sheets and place concrete caps on 3 sides (leave one long side uncapped.) Unless you are skilled at the art of levitation, in which case it’ll be a breeze to lift a fully loaded wheelbarrow over the top to dump dirt inside.

8. Dump load after load after load of compost/dirt. Relish in the fact that your back isn’t aching because you had friends help with some of the heavy blocks.

9. Finish last concrete caps. Mulch. Plant.

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10. Decide that, while this is a ducking amazing and multi-functional garden design, you will NEVER, EVER, EVER do this again. (Please don’t be like me and repeat this process after 3 years). ENJOY!!!

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Be a ‘Traveler’ instead of a ‘Tourist’

From a young age, I’ve always been fascinated by people. Being transplanted from Durant, Oklahoma to Oxford, Michigan at age seven, I was acutely aware at a young age just how different we are. Even inside the same country, I experienced whiplash from the culture shock of growing up southern and then being dropped into the Midwest.

“You talk funny,” the suburban 2nd graders leered at me, the new kid in school.

“YA’LL talk funny!” I retorted, my southern lilt in full effect. Although I didn’t understand at that age, I was indignant at being called ‘other,’ because this was a synonym for ‘lesser than.’

I studied our differences, straining my little ears to hear the way these northern kids talked. It wasn’t just the accent, it was the words they used to describe things as well. It was the subtle differences in what hidden meanings laid behind innocuous phrases, like how “Well, aren’t you precious?” could either be taken genuinely, or be a backhanded comment from a southern belle who was too polite to call you stupid.

Over subsequent years, I morphed into a Michigander, with nary a clue to my southern origins. Until I go back to Dallas to visit family, that is. Then my roots come roaring back full speed, like riding a bike down a dirt road.

I think that my love of culture stems partly from my keen ability to listen and hear subtleties, and partly from my innate superpowers as an introvert. Introverts can be excellent observers to the silent cues that people exchange with one another. I subconsciously study those interactions, as fascinated as Jane Goodall devouring the hidden languages of chimps. I love watching people.

This love of culture is also why I have fallen in love with travel. Nothing wrinkles my brain quite like the incongruous social norms of a foreign country. I cherish those epiphanies, when I realize that I have been holding onto some randomly rigid social norms that all Americans simply demand to be held true, only to discover that in another country it, that same expectation would be laughed off in a second as silly and arbitrary.

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Take the American idea of breakfast, for example. Could we even count the number of times that a frustrated mother has fought with her child over what was an acceptable breakfast food? The child simply lumps all foods together as equally appropriate at any time of the day, but the adults have been conditioned to think that breakfast must be some permutation of eggs, bacon, biscuits, grits, milk, orange juice, coffee, oatmeal, or cereal. If you were to suggest warming up a delicious potato soup for breakfast, you’d be met with aghast stairs of disapproval… even though potatoes in other forms are perfectly acceptable as breakfast food.

It took me just a few days in Thailand to realize how inane this idea of ‘breakfast’ is. There, food IS food. We ate fried rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It didn’t matter how long you’d been awake, or what time of day it was. You eat what is available. It’s that simple.

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When I returned from Asia, I found myself admonishing the American concept of breakfast. If I had leftover curry to eat, that was fine first thing in the morning! How liberating it is to finally realize how restricted our thoughts have been! And why? For no real reason, just, ‘that’s how we do it here.’

This is a very distinct and important concept to shifting your mindset from one of a tourist to one of a traveler.

Tourists are afraid to explore. They don’t want to push their boundaries, or question their own lifestyles. Tourists want to play it safe. They book all-inclusive packages where they are assured the comforts of their normal routine. They enjoy tiny thrills of observing new things, but only if accompanied by a cozy security blanket. Tourists want to be entertained by the curiosities of other cultures, at a safe distance. Whether they mean to or not, they commodify culture. When tourists return home from vacation, they cross it off their list and return to ‘normal life.’

Travelers, on the other hand, seek to immerse themselves in cultures. They don’t simply seek out a photo op so they can show friends back home that they did a thing. They want to put themselves into situations where it is uncomfortable, where they don’t know what to do, where they are forced to admit their naivety and are able to listen and learn. Travelers embrace the unfamiliar, with hopes of gaining a new perspective on the world. When travelers return from their adventure, they question things about life at home, and examine ‘normal expectations’ with newfound curiosity.

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I’ve been incredibly blessed to find creative ways to travel across the globe for cheap, seeking opportunities to immerse myself in the nooks and crannies of other cultures. I find routes into smaller towns, to meet local people, not just those employed in hospitality.

I want to get invited to Sunday paella dinner with a group of Brazilians in Sao Paulo, and drink homemade cacacha. I want to make a bored little Laotian girl giggle on a 7-hour boat ride down the Mekong river, while her parents smile at the strangely mystical toy that I pull out to help make the time pass for her. I want to go dancing at an underground disco with Berliners until 3am.

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There have been a couple of times I’ve taken a trip without this goal. My recent vacation to Turks and Caicos was one of them. What I’ve found is that these trips- while relaxing and beautiful and fun in other ways- leave part of my brain under-stimulated and slightly disappointed. That sense is compounded by witnessing the other droves of oblivious tourists around me, happily buying inauthentic trinkets, complaining about the weather, or never even bothering to look their waiter in the eyes and ask, “How are you?”

The shallowness of being a tourist means that every country you visit is scored solely on the quality of the beaches, the 1st world caliber of the restaurants, and the ease of getting around. You could easily transplant the denizens- behind kitchen doors and taking drink orders at your beach chair- from an entirely different country, and most of these tourists wouldn’t even notice the difference. They do not vacation to experience local culture.

What I missed most about my experience in Turks and Caicos was opportunities to really get to know the culture. If you ask me today to describe the local way of life, I honestly couldn’t. Do the locals even eat conchs anymore, or are those reserved for tourists? Do some of them still live off the ocean, or are they all working in the tourism and construction industries today? What do they love most about their country?

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Everywhere we went, we felt catered to as tourists. When we talked about exploring some less traveled parts of the islands, we were warned by white expats who had been living there for a decade or more that those areas were “not safe.” So, we stuck to places as far from the resorts as possible, hoping to catch an opportunity to have some real conversation.

We were only there for 6 days. Maybe if we were there longer we would have discovered some more local hangouts. Perhaps we walked right past them, too distracted by the bright, alluring shine of the intended attractions, shuffling along in a drove of rich white tourists. Maybe we didn’t do enough homework before we arrived.

I never did get to experience the local culture, but, gee, that white sand and azure ocean sure was pretty.

Galapagos Compromise

About three years ago, my wife and I were reminiscing on our last vacation that we took with my mom, Becky. While our travel styles vary greatly, I relish in the rich memories that I’ve been able to make traveling with the woman who gave me life.

We decided that it was time to start planning out next joint vacation, and asked my mom if there was any place that she would like to visit. With lightning speed, without any hesitation, she quipped, “Galapagos Islands.”

Bethany blinked hard at me, silently saying, “WHOA. What was THAT all about??”

I beamed profusely, and shared.

Although my family didn’t take many vacations, when we did , they were pretty memorable. One of the 2 family vacations that shaped my youth was a Disney cruise that my best friend and I convinced our parents to coordinate together. One of the destinations was the Galapagos islands, but rough seas rerouted our cruise, so we never got to stop there. Apparently, Becky never forgot.

Bethany and I were not expecting this lofty trip goal. When we started researching it, we were floored by the egregious price tag! I know that this is a bucket list destination, but… WOW! The remote location makes this a sea-worthy gamble.

Let the Negotiations Begin!

Our past two joint vacations were polar opposites. The first (our hiking adventure where she sacrificed creature comforts) was Mom enduring our normal style of vacay. We hiked 10 miles a day, through rivers, up to scary overlooks, and Mom was a trooper!! The second (us cruising with Mom and her dance group) was us sacrificing our desire for cultural immersion for convenience. We endured the crowds, the touristy ports, and the lack of authentic cultural experiences.

We knew that we could travel together pretty well, and were excited to plan our next one. Once we realized how insanely expensive our hypothetical Galapagos trip might be, however, we pushed that bad boy out a few years. I was 36 when we first starting talking about it, and we quickly decided that this particular trip might make more sense as a landmark year, so we started exploring this for my 40th, which is also my mom’s 70th (thanks for making the math easy for me, Mom!!).

In the meantime, we ended up planning a 3rd joint vacation with Mom. It was… decidedly a compromise. While I’m grateful for the invaluable memories, there were honestly times that my mom was driving me batty. Likewise, she was not as tolerant of the unknowns, or the less than perfect accommodations. I think, much like roommates who have passed the ‘honeymoon’ phase, we became comfortable enough to be ‘honest.’ Honesty is dangerous when in close quarters with family.

When Do We QUIT?!?!

Here’ the deal. Becky has 30 years more of income than me. Ergo, she can afford a much more lavish vacation than us. When we started honing in on vacation options, I thought that we were already sacrificing a lot to afford her more comfort, and then I got a whiplash reality check!

Dudes and dudettes, the Galapagos Islands are CRAZY EXPENSIVE. My wife and I excel at traveling on a dime, and it’s tough here. After my mom’s lackluster experience in Costa Rica, I knew her growing penchant for high-end, all-inclusive packages would be strong.

Here’s the deal. I’m no slack traveler. There’s a reason that I can afford to travel the world with minimal budget. I do my research, I follow trends, I embrace uncertainty, and I am not afraid to gamble. Mi madre, on the other hand, is well-aged enough that she now just wants to pay for the comfort of not making decisions. So, we are at opposite ends of the spectrum. I’d rather sleep in a clean but no frills hotel and spend more on experiences, whereas she would rather know that her home base is luxurious enough that she can relax after a long day of excursions.

When we started this research on the Galapagos islands, I learned about how easy it is to book a last minute cruise (you gotta FILL it, yo!) but the travel agents convinced my mom that it must be booked in advance.

Multiple sources share how much more cost effective it is to stay on the islands and book a 3-4 day cruise or day trips, and yet mom was scared into the believing that this is not possible.

My biggest concern… was food. As sustainability-minded veg-heads, we always research our food options in advance. Islands are typically seafood focused, and therefore more challenging for us. Being on the islands means that we can always walk a little farther to find some food, but being stuck on a boat that has limited options, means that we could end up paying stupid amounts of money for a bucket list trip and end up being ‘Hangry’ for 8 straight days because the only thing we’ve been fed is pineapple and mango.

Ultimately, I deferred to mi madre. This trip was truly her idea, and for her 70th, she shouldn’t have to feel like she missed out on anything. We are planning to book a 7-night cruise that is WAY above our budget, but the price of sharing this experience with Becky is worth so much more! We will have to scrimp and hustle to make some extra income this year (anybody need a custom watercolor portrait?!?), but hopefully our frugal travel mile hobby will enable us to fly to Ecuador for free, so we can relax and enjoy this epic trip!

Stay Tuned!! I can’t wait to share the results of how things go in the Galapagos Islands in May 2020!

Hipster Light

As an Architect, I greatly appreciate the nuanced details of how you create a certain kind of atmosphere. That’s honestly what I’ve always found so powerful about architecture, is how it has the power to shape the ways in which people interact- not only with the space, but with each other.

An ill-placed seating arrangement, a painfully echoing corner, or a harshly bright light can all ruin the experience of a space. In a time of seemingly endless choices, it’s easy for just one person to say, “eh, I don’t really like that place- let’s go someplace else.” So what’s a business owner to do?

The rise of the Hipster Light Bulb (aka Retro Edison Bulb) has stricken my heart with anxiety since the first time I walked into a brand new bar sheathed in barn wood and strung with dimly buzzing orange glass spheres. Are they atmospheric? Yes! Are they retro? Of course. Are they GOOD? Here’s where I take issue.

You see, I spend my days educating people on sustainability. I’ve taught day-long workshops on lighting, and also conducted numerous energy audits, and offered my expert opinion to literally hundreds of business owners. So when I’m “off the clock” and I go out for a bite or a sip, it’s virtually impossible for me to swallow my knowledge.

If the opportunity allows, I may gently ask if the nascent owner is aware of how much energy those lovely bulbs consume. If they shrug it off, I drop it. But those who want to know more will be quickly astounded by how much money they are wasting- money that could be going to their bottom line.

Especially with new businesses, most of which won’t turn a profit for a year or two, I know just how much these saved dollars could do for them! As a community member and locavore, I can’t NOT help them. So, I spend my relaxing evenings out talking about light bulbs.

Here’s the math behind my horrified reaction to Edison Bulbs:

Let’s assume that the lights are on open to close, plus prep and cleanup. If a bar/restaurant is occupied 10am-12pm (or 12pm-2am), this is 14 hours/day. Assuming they are closed one day a week, this means they are burning lights 4,368 hours each year.

Lights ON = 14 hrs/day x 6 days/wk x 52 wk/yr = 4,368 hours/yr

Edison Bulbs are just 10% efficient.

This means that for every $1.00 of electricity you put into them, you get $0.10 worth of light, and $0.90 of waste heat! Just one of these incandescent bulbs uses 60 watts of power.

Given an average price of $0.10/kWh for electricity, they pay $26.21 PER BULB per year.

60 watts x 4,368 hours/yr x $0.10/kWh / 1000 watts/kW = $26.21 in energy

Now, it doesn’t end there… You see, these bulbs are designed to last a mere 1,400 hours on average before they burn out. Once they burn out, you have to replace them. Assuming you just buy a few at a time, it’s gonna cost you about $8 for one of these Hipster Bulbs (eat THAT, avocado toast!).

So, how many bulbs will you go through? Knowing how many hours we burn them per year, we can figure this out.

4,368 hours/yr / 1,400 hour life expectancy = 3.21 bulbs/yr

$8/bulb x 3.21 bulbs/yr = $24.96 in bulbs annually.

So the total cost of choosing that Edison bulb is $24.96 + $26.21 = $51.17/yr

Now imagine you have 100 of these super cool Hipster Bulbs… that’s $511.70 every year!

Conversely, you can keep the look, forgo the ‘authenticity’ of century old technology, and get LEDs that do the same thing with a fraction of the energy. Oh, and they last 25,000 hours instead of 1,400.

With a simple swap, you can be spending a mere $3.80 per bulb, instead of $51.17.

Now, I’m no business major, but that seems to make dollars and sense. Oh, and you’ll also be spending less time changing light bulbs and more time slinging drinks, all while lowering your carbon footprint.

So, if you own a business, or manage one, or even just like to saddle up to the bar and chit-chat, do the world a favor, and take the time to upgrade your Hipster Lights and help us all survive climate change.

Patrons (hipster or otherwise), PLEASE help spread the word to your favorite establishments!

I’ll gladly take in-kind payment for your free advice next time I stop in. Kentucky Mule, please. Extra lime.

Kitchen is the New Hearth

Ask anybody who hosts in their home, and you’ll surely know that everyone always ends up in the kitchen. This is both endearing, as guests love to chat and offer to lend a hand, but also annoying, because inevitably there is just never enough room and people keep getting in the way!

While Frank Lloyd Wright declared the hearth to be the heart of the home, times have changed, and I challenge this old standard. In Frank’s days, the men would sit around the fireplace smoking cigars and stoking the fire with wood that they chopped themselves- such classic masculine chores! The women would retreat to the kitchen, helping the hostess with her behemoth task list. In the 21st century, now that the lady of the house is no longer cordoned to the kitchen during a party, we are finally seeing a transformation from the kitchen being a hidden room, to the gloriously modern “open concept” that breaks down gender barriers.

Once those walls came down, contemporary kitchen design exploded with new and innovative ways to make the kitchen both functional and inviting. It is truly a glorious time to be a designer, and to be designing a kitchen without any restrictions! The concept of a kitchen island that allows guests to be seated IN the kitchen, is an utter breakthrough!

Despite my career as an Architect, I’d never really designed a residential kitchen before. Commercial kitchen design is, of course, completely different. Thankfully, my wife and I have lived and cooked together in 4 different houses, so we had a pretty strong sense of what we like and don’t like. And it certainly doesn’t hurt that my sister-in-law, Ashley Knight, is a kitchen designer, and offered to review my design and make suggestions for improvements. Because we both love to cook together, and love to host friends and family for just about any occasion, it was imperative that the design start with the kitchen.

Currently, our tiny kitchen is the absolute worst kitchen layout I have ever had the displeasure of working in. It seems spacious enough at first glance, yet is laid out with the fridge just eight inches from the stove, with a 90 degree corner between them. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve said, “Excuse me, could you step away from the stove for a second so I can open the fridge?” TOO MANY. The other half is a hall passage from one door to another, with windows far too low to mount any additional counter space. So we got creative and found an open shelving solution to fit between the windows, and have a camping table resting there for a smidge of extra work surface, but the utter lack of functional counter space is endlessly aggravating.

No, our dream kitchen needs to be massive, with a long stretch of counter space for arriving guests to set down steaming hot dishes and plug in crockpots without impeding the flow of traffic. We need our cooktop to be situated in an island facing out to a row of eager faces for cooking demonstrations. We will have bar seating for 6 or 7, and no lack of room to lay out a full coursed meal. Most importantly, it needs to be open, so that any last minute pot stirring or casual post-dinner dish-washing can be achieved without a break in conversation.

The volume of storage space will only slightly exceed what we have now, but with smarter solutions. And zero corner cabinets. I’ve lost far too many tupperware lids to the abyss of a lazy susan cabinet to even think about such a plan!

For an element of delight, I’ve incorporated a wall of salvaged, mismatched upper cabinets, to be intentionally celebrated in their nonconformity, while painted gray to match the new cabinets. As one strolls in from the entrance, the farthest cabinet will reveal itself to contain a hidden window, allowing a splash more of daylight, and bringing a smile to surprised visitors.

To provide a more comfortable experience, I then turned to the arrival sequence. By preserving the large brick front porch, guests will be protected from snow or rain while awaiting our response at the door. As they enter, an eight foot long bench awaits them, with storage below for their damp shoes, and hooks and shelves above for coats, hats, and bags. During blustery winter days and blistering summer afternoons, I’ve devised a series of sliding panels to enclose the vestibule and protect those sipping drinks inside from an uncomfortable blast of air. This common commercial device also saves on energy, since you aren’t losing all your conditioned air out the front door with every new guest arrival.

In warmer months, the flow allows one to glide straight back through the kitchen area to a large south-facing doorwall, where they will find us chatting on the back patio, or cozied up to the built-in concrete fire pit in the backyard. The “Public Spaces” are carefully strung together, to allow a sense of complete openness, yet while preserving our actual privacy.

Remember how I said that my client and I agreed on MOST things when it came to my proposed design? The one thing we are still on completely opposite sides of is… whether the kitchen sink should be one large basin, or have a divider, so dishes can be soaking on one side with another side clear for rinsing. Ironically, it’s the person who does the dishes the most who is vying for one large sink…

“Spanish Drinking Chocolate”

In a teeny, tiny cup
Rich swirls of drinking chocolate
Move like velvet,
Licking the walls of the ceramic mug,
Slowly dripping back down
Into a pool of heavenly warmth.

Steam rises in delicate tendrils
Carrying an aroma so rich & sweet
My eyes close themselves
So I can concentrate on the smell alone.
I fill my lungs, my chest expanded
Then, when I can wait no longer,
I lower my lips and take a sip.

~krw~ 

11.18.09

Maple Syrup Mayhem

While the snow melted off the dormant grass, the sun was shining on the trees in my yard. It was February 12th, and I could only think about one thing. The light gleamed back at me, reflected from the beautiful, silver spile that I had driven into the tree trunk earlier. Yes, it is finally that moment I wait for all winter long… it’s time to tap the maple trees.

 

My first time was about 8 years ago. It was exciting. It was refreshing, to learn to make something myself. But most of all, it was very, very memorable. NOT in a good way.

 

Back then I lived in my first purchased home, a tiny little ranch, literally no bigger than a three car garage. It sat on two acres, and gave me countless freedoms to teach myself some basic homesteading skills. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but that first day when my 1 gallon jugs filled up with that tasteless, colorless tree sap, I knew that it was time for the next step: to boil it!

 

It was with great pride that bundled myself up in my knitted hat and scarf, headed outside, and emptied my jugs of clear sap. I had just purchased this giant aluminum pot, the only thing big enough to hold several gallons of tree sap. I dumped each of the jugs, hung them back up, and lifted the heavy container.

 

Back inside, I turned the stove top’s peeling metal knob to ‘High,’ and then I waited. And waited. It took MINUTES for this large of a volume of- essentially- water to start to bubble and finally boil. I turned the heat down to simmer and went about making myself something to eat.

 

The sap boiled for almost 3 hours, slowly evaporating the water from the sugar. By the time I was ready to turn it off and go to sleep, it had only shrunk by less than half. I had no idea how long this would take to some day get to actual maple syrup. I knew that it was about 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of syrup, but I didn’t even have a clue how many gallons of sap I might end up with from my three taps.

 

The next day was a bright, sunny day, and the tree heated up quickly, which meant that by the time I got home from work, the sap collectors were overflowing! I beamed at my trees. Then I grabbed my pot to empty them as quickly as I could. Back to boiling!!

 

This time, I had so much sap, that I decided to pull out a second, smaller pot, to get them both boiling at once, and hopefully speed up the process to get me that sweet, sweet nectar ASAP. Once both pots were happily churning off that excess water vapor, I returned to my evening tasks. I made dinner, started a load of laundry, and then set about cleaning up.

 

I grabbed the counter sponge to wipe up a couple of water droplets that had jumped out of the smaller pot. Then I turned and noticed a couple of darker drops on the breakfast bar that needed wiping too. “That’s weird,” I thought, “I swear I just wiped that counter a minute ago. I’m surprised that I missed that.” Then I heard the washer buzz, and left the room to switch loads.

 

After starting the dryer, I walked back into the kitchen, noticing that a cloud- literally, a CLOUD- had formed in my kitchen. “Huh, that’s a lot of evaporation,” I thought. There was a noticeable mist in the air hovering just below my white tiled ceiling, and, while I appreciated the humidity in the dead of winter, I wasn’t sure that my ceiling would like it as much as me. I flipped the switch for the exhaust hood, and the cranky, 60-year-old motor got to work feebly evacuating some of the air. I checked on the sap, and everything looked good. Both pots were making progress, and the clear water was now donning a faintly yellow hue.

 

While I waited for more boiling to occur, I grabbed the stack of mail and returned to the breakfast bar. Before I could set down the papers, I stopped in my tracks.

 

There were drops of amber syrup on the counter… AGAIN.

 

I stared incredulously. I KNOW I just wiped this counter. The drops were not near each other either, they were spaced apart by about 6-8”. In fact, they were in a linear row, about 4” back from the counter’s edge. I paused, as my brain processed this pattern. Then I looked up.

 

There, above the breakfast bar, was an architectural  bulkhead wrapped in faux wood paneling. And, as I watched, the light from the recessed cans illuminated a glistening stream of water condensing on the very edge of the bulkhead. Then, it dripped down onto the counter in a rich, heavy, syrupy drop.

 

I was inadvertently making maple syrup on my ceiling.

 

With horror, I began to slowly turn my gaze. As I assessed the other walls and ceilings, I realized that there were almost invisible drips running down each of the dark wood paneled walls. It was EVERYWHERE.

 

Staring at the enormity of this mess, I took a deep breath, and decided what to do. I debated calling my partner, to warn him of the hilarious gravity of the situation before he got home. Instead, I sprang into action. I turned off the two electric burners, I opened the front door, and I grabbed a sponge- or three. As I laboriously wiped down EVERY square inch of surface in my kitchen, my mouth cracked open, and I just laughed, and laughed. I couldn’t believe what I had done! For weeks after that, I would find a spot I missed. The hardest part to clean was the flimsy window film that  I had put up over my single pane windows. It just tore under the pressure.

 

The good news is that I managed to still create some deliciously sweet, Grade B maple syrup. And I learned my lesson. No more than ONE pot boiling at a time for indoor evaporation! I am NOT a professional evaporator, but I feel like I’m one step closer to a homesteader.

Polarity and Duality: Dwindling Debates in America

In my life, there are many issues that are close to my heart that also generate a lot of debate. But I am never looking to pick a fight, or shove my personal viewpoints in someone’s face. Start a dialogue? Sure, as long as it is reciprocated.

 

One day, in a professional luncheon as part of a fairly conservative conference, I was making conversation with the man standing next to me while we waited in line.

 

Me: Looks like a great spread!

Gentleman: Yeah, it does. Good thing, too, cuz I’m hungry!

Me: (to the server standing nearby) Excuse me, can you tell me what is vegetarian?

Server: Yes, everything but the bean salad and the chicken is vegetarian.

Gentleman: You don’t eat meat, huh?

Me: Nope. I’ve been vegetarian since I was 11.

Gentleman: You know there’s a lot of overpopulation of deer. If we didn’t shoot them they’d be destroying everything.

Me: Oh, are you a hunter?

Gentleman: Yep. Just went out last weekend and we shot 3 of ‘em.

Me: (showing restraint) Well, I have a lot more respect for someone who actually kills their own meat, and appreciates the life they have taken, compared to most Americans who buy processed food product without even knowing which life it came from.

Gentleman: Yeah. So where do you get your protein?

Me: Do you realize that most Americans eat too much protein? And protein is rather easy to get without eating animals? Or that excessive protein consumption from animal sources has been linked to increase in cancerous growth? You’d be far better off asking about cholesterol levels and risks of heart disease…

Actually, That’s not what I said. Because I’m a professional. I’m not at a conference to get in an argument about my nutritional status, or why my choice to not eat meat is the right choice for me. I didn’t bring up the morality of murdering living beings, or the issues of chemical fertilizers and pesticides that are poisoning our land and water, or how artificial growth hormones lead to disturbing changes in your children’s bodies, or how cruel the conditions are in factory farming, or how we could literally end world hunger if we fed people a plant-based diet instead of the inefficient process by which we lose nutrients by eating them second hand. Nope, I just left that all out there, because it was not the place or time.

 

Had I been seated at the same table as this man, I might have gently continued the conversation, but I also had to be careful not to color myself as somehow not credible because of my choice to not eat animals. I was representing my institution, not my personal beliefs. I can only hope that being a ‘nice, knowledgeable lady’ will somehow change his view of vegetarians in the future, and he won’t be so quick to expect a personal attack because of his differing choices. I don’t want vegetarianism to be viewed as some radical, hateful subgroup. I am so much more than just that one label.

~~~~~~~

Polarity

Recently, I was watching an interesting TED Talk about polarity and duality. Specifically, it was about our tendency in America to feel like we must cling to one extreme or another for any given topic of debate, and that those tendencies like to divide us, often among party lines. The polarity is exactly what causes us to believe in stereotypes, and incorporate them into judging strangers based on very limited information.

 

My mind immediately jumped to this question: “Why are we so polarized today?”

News outlets today portray things in neatly wrapped packages: “Pro-Gun” over here and “Anti-Constitution” over there. Or, “Anti-Gay” there and “Pro-Equality” next to that. You never see an interview showing two people representing ‘the middle.’ No, that’s not good entertainment. And that’s what news is considered today, much of the time. Entertainment.

 

What catches our attention IS controversy. We are drawn to the scene of the accident. It’s a natural reaction- perhaps even an evolutionary need to react to potential threats- and most producers prey on this.

 

The Middle

The reality is, however, that many of us do live in the middle. We are not 100% anything. We are a complex tapestry of social, fiscal, moral, and human reactions. Yet, people want to be able to affix pretty white labels to us, to make it easier to categorize and judge. Well, are you pro-life or aren’t you? It’s a simple question, right?

 

It seems challenging, in this environment, to find enough space to even have that internal dialogue. I’m not 100% ‘pro-’ anything. I believe that there are guiding principles, but there can always be exceptions to the rules. I may not even be able to fathom, at this point in my world of experiences, what those exceptions may be, but they could exist out there, somewhere.

 

Redefining the Goal of Debate

This concept of deciding NOT to pick a side, is a tough one for most of us. I’ve been in countless ‘debates’ with family or acquaintances who clearly have set out to pin me up against the wall and prove that my opinion is wrong. They start out with a staunch belief, picking one ‘side’ of a debate, and then push me to explain why I disagree. I will happily engage in conversation for the sake of shared learning and growing empathy and compassion for other viewpoints. So, I typically will accept their challenge, but I refuse to slink to the point of name calling or degradation. When I calmly explain that my position is X, but I’m always open to being convinced otherwise, I am immediately seen as a weaker opponent, and they feel instantly gratified that they have already won. But what did they win?

 

If you approach an argument or debate, with a goal of ‘beating’ the other person, what exactly have you accomplished? Did you persuade them to transform their own view? Did you feel like you earned a gold medal? Did you get off on the ability to say out loud what you’ve been mumbling at the newspaper every day? Most importantly, what did you learn?

 

My idea of a successful debate, is one in which I am exposed to something new. It could be a fresh perspective, or a new resource to research. It might be a personal story that sheds light on why this person is so passionate. If all I achieved was espousing my own sense of smugness, and nobody learned anything, then it was a failure, and a waste of everyone’s time.

 

Delving into Duality

I enjoy surround myself with diverse friends. Many of them have some similar stances to my own, but not on every topic. Some of my friends are very religious, some are agnostic. Some are knocking on the state capitol doors demanding the right to marry, some have a very narrow definition of who should be able to marry their soulmate. Some of my friends are morally righteous vegans, some identify heavily by their hunting traditions. Some of my friends can engage in civil conversations about these sensitive subjects with respect for both sides, and others must avoid the topic at all costs.

 

When Keisha Thomas stopped the attack on a KKK member at a rally, she saw him not as a man who was hates all black people, but as a man. Period. She knew that he had family, and friends, and although she disagreed with him heavily, she knew that he did not deserve to die. Her actions astonished people who felt succinctly aligned with one side or the other at this rally. She is an embodiment of duality.

 

If all of my friends agree with me, I have failed myself. I enjoy engaging in conversations about items of disagreement. I like learning about other people’s realities. I believe that there is no absolute ‘right’ or ‘wrong,’ which allows me to entertain an opposing viewpoint, despite how passionately I feel about my own. I like being an enigma of political stances, and throwing people off by not falling down ‘party lines.’ If only we could all embrace duality, and realize that, no matter what divides us, our differences do not define us. We can still connect on some level, as we are all human.

The Vegetarian Roll: A Love and Hate Relationship with Thanksgiving

Ah, Family: a Love and Hate Relationship
Every year, around this time, I reflect on what it is to be a vegetarian in America. I have my own pleasant and tortuous memories of family feasts, where I was accused of not having a thick enough skin to ignore the taunting. It’s supposed to be a time of gratitude, when friends and family gather to celebrate the cornucopia that nature has belssed them with that harvest season. Our family meals were an extensive spread of wonderful foods, many of which were kindly altered to make them an option for ‘the vegetarian.’ In more recent years, as I have learned to cook elaborate dishes, my own uncles have admitted that “that tofu was pretty darn good” and gone back for seconds. A huge victory for me, and others who have lived through this experience.

There were usually 20-25 of us sitting down together at various impromptu tables at a given holiday. About half of those were my cousins, mostly younger boys. For about 15 years, no Thanksgiving was complete until one of the boys grabbed his slice of turkey with two hands, and pried the slice apart, mocking the motion of a beak, while making “Gobble! Gobble!” turkey sounds in my direction. The others would laugh, or at least smile, at the ingenious humor and wit, which they had completely forgotten about in the 365 days that had passed since the last ritualistic display.

I had learned by age 13 to just ignore them, as it only egged them on to get a reaction from me. Still, this didn’t exactly make me feel embraced in our family. This did not stop until one year, when I was 26 years old, and I finally erupted. I declared that this was rude, inconsiderate, and childish behavior and I was sick of it. I left the room and did not return. The “Gobble, gobble” noises have since not returned either. The holidays have been vastly improved ever since.

Who Are ’The Vegetarians’?

The holidays are probably the hardest part about being vegetarian, depending on your family, but by no means is this the only day of the year where we feel different. There are plenty of other challenges to being in this ‘other’ category for something that is such an integral part of daily life. In the 1970s, approximately 1% of the population in the U.S. was living on a plant-based diet, sometimes including animal by-products like milk and cheese. Today, self-reported vegetarianism is between 10-13% of our population, with more and more people switching their diets for health or sustainability reasons. (For a country by country breakdown of vegetarianism, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vegetarianism_by_country)

The definition of ‘vegetarian’ is also not consistent. When I first became one at age 11, I began feverishly researching and writing a research paper on the topic to learn more. This was back in the ‘dark ages’- pre-internet. I discovered that, at that time, there were as many as 7 major categories of vegetarianism. You could be a pescetarian (eat fish but not other animals), you could be a lacto-ovo vegetarian (most common, eating eggs, cheese, milk, but no other animal-based foods), or, the most extreme type, vegan (eating only 100% plant-based foods). So when you ask, “Is the soup vegetarian?” in a restaurant, it must be followed by a dreaded onslaught of follow up questions. “Is there fish? Chicken broth? Bacon bits? Cream?” By any definition, being vegetarian means you are a minority.

Travel Much?

When we travel, we all enjoy the tasty, unsual flavors of exploring another culture’s food. As a vegetarian, you always have to take extra steps to plan ahead to ensure that you will find sustenance along your travels. I always learn enough of the local language to be able to ask for vegetarian food. This sometimes means spelling it out, “No meat, no fish, plants only, please,” since some cultures don’t really have a word for ‘vegetarian’ or ‘vegan.’

Depending on where you go, it can be hard or it can be easy. In Europe, there is a lot more education and awareness, and therefore sensitivity to diet needs, despite the relatively low percentage of vegetarians who live there (typically less than 5%). In Germany you have to politely ask for dishes “ohne Speck” or without bacon crumbles, since they view this as ‘other’ and not really meat. In Thailand everything comes with fish sauce, and it can be a struggle to get a truly vegetarian meal unless you are pescetarian. This is in contrast to countries like India, where various sources estimate that 20-40% of the population is vegetarian, and the cheaper the food, the more likely it is to be veg. There is a country-wide mandated identification of non-vegetarian items, noted with a red dot. Even chains like McDonald’s are jumping on the bandwagon in India.

What’s ‘God’ (Buddha, Allah, Krishna, Nature, etc.) Got To Do With It?

As we quickly learned from our Thai exchange son, diet does not always align with religion either, as we sometimes have been led to believe in overly simplified stereotypes. I always thought that all Buddhism, like Hinduism, was aligned with the belief that we should not take other lives. However, in Thailand, Buddhist monks must accept whatever food is given to them, including animal meat (usually fish). Our Thai son told us that, “Buddha give us fish so we can eat them,” which was a very different interpretation than what we have seen in most American Buddhist traditions.

There are also interesting twists in religion where the faithful have chosen over time to ignore some pieces of scripture, while embracing conflicting quotes. For example, the bible warns Christians not to eat animals at all in some passages, while giving a specific list of approved animals in others.

• “It is good not to eat meat or drink wine or do anything that causes your brother to stumble.” (Romans 14:21)
• “You shall not eat any flesh with the blood in it. You shall not interpret omens or tell fortunes.” (Leviticus 19:26)
• “Thou shalt not eat animals that ..walk on paws… or unsplit hooves.” (http://www.openbible.info/topics/eating_meat)

Similarly, the Book of Mormon states that “Yea, flesh also of beasts and of the fowls of the air, I, the Lord, have ordained for the use of man with thanksgiving; nevertheless they are to be used sparingly; And it is pleasing unto me that they should not be used, only in times of winter, or of cold, or famine.” (D&C 89:12-13) Despite this relatively recent (and therefore less diluted by interpretation) religion, many followers do not follow this religious scripture on diet.

With so many interpretations, innumerable sects of religions, cultural norms, and geographical reliance on local food, who is to say what is truly the ‘right’ answer? You will never hear me telling someone that they are wrong for eating animals, although I have a long list of reasons why I choose not to. I am happy to share my reasons with those who want to know, but, as with religion, I do not think it is right to force my beliefs onto others. We each have to find our own path to happiness, and no two paths will be the same.

Who Cares, Let’s EAT!

So, wherever you are this week, whatever you choose to eat way too much of, remember that there is a vast and varied world out there, and you are simply enjoying one tiny slice of the ‘pie.’ Our cultures and traditions are no more right or less wrong than anyone elses, and nobody should be made to feel different or lesser because of what they choose to eat.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Eat for the Future

Sometimes, you don’t have to travel far to learn a lesson in cultural exchange. The contrast can be almost as stark when comparing urban and suburban as it can be between two countries.

Growing up, I lived down a long dirt road, on 7 wooded acres, where I walked a mile to go visit my best friend. I pined for sidewalks and paved streets to ride my bicycle along like my friends at school had. I loved playing down in the woods, discovering another world, sun dappled on the valley floor.

There weren’t a lot of kids nearby for me to play with. None were in my grade, or even at the same school, since many went to private schools in surrounding towns. The neighbors were quite varied, some very intelligent and cosmopolitan, who valued the solace of this peaceful, rural area. Most were older, retired, and kept to themselves. It was the kind of neighborhood where you don’t want to be when it comes time to score candy on Halloween- that’s why we always went to the suburbs to Trick-or-Treat each October.

At age eleven, I decided to become vegetarian. It wasn’t peer pressure (nobody in my circle of friends was vegetarian at that time). Everyone in my family thought it was a phase. Boy, were they wrong!

I didn’t actually know a single person who was vegetarian, but I came to realize all on my own that I was not morally okay with eating other living beings. I started getting curious, staring at a gray plate of beef stroganoff, trying to draw the connection between the farm and this meal. I asked the question, “Which animal is this?” and could not bear to live with the answers. I wouldn’t eat my beloved childhood cat, Mooney, and I couldn’t see much difference with other creatures. That was it. My mom struggled with this, and we went back and forth on various compromises, but eventually I prevailed. I was a strange kid in my neck of the woods.

By age 12, I was learning how to write a research paper, and was excited to learn more about vegetarianism. I spent hours in the school library, pulling 3”x5” pieces of cardstock from the large, wooden file of card catalogs. I discovered that there were more than 6 different types of vegetarian, depending on who you talk to, and that I was a Lacto-Ovo-Vegetarian, which means that I still ate eggs and dairy. A Pescetarian is someone who also thought it was okay to eat fish, and a Vegan is someone who does not consume any animal products whatsoever.

It was an eye-opening experience for me, to start to see how many shades of gray there were to this moral battle that I was defending. Who am I to say that you are wrong to eat fish, if that is where you draw the line? After all, there were others even stricter than I, who would see me as morally deficient for consuming honey and other ‘stolen animal products.’ What right did I have to judge others?

There is more to the story than just being an animal lover, however. I also gained more knowledge to support my own stance, based on broader issues. As a budding environmentalist- soon to be President of Earth Club- I learned about the larger scale impact of choosing not to eat animals. It’s not just about an individual choice, it’s about the big picture!

Why do we eat so much meat? The health and nutritional facts are clearly in support of less meat or meatless diets. The arguments from 20 years ago about not getting enough protein have long since been proven invalid, based on false arguments and propaganda. If you’re still not sure, try reading The China Study to see why study after study has proven the value of plant-based diets for your health.

We eat meat because we can afford to. It is a sign of affluence! But, if an accountant were to review the numbers, she would quickly say, “This doesn’t make sense.” You could generate 100 times as much food with the same basic resources by simply focusing on the food that comes from the land. We could eliminate world hunger if we simply shifted those same resources towards a plant-based diet.

The grain production required to create a certain amount of caloric fuel via meat is staggeringly disproportionate to the amount of energy it takes to generate that meat. When you factor in the cost, labor, water, and energy it takes to feed, fertilize, house, medicate, ship, kill, and process a pound of meat, it is simply staggering. It’s like saying, “I’m going to spend $200,000 to buy a yacht to cross that river, even though I could get a canoe that would perform the same function.” It’s overkill, and wasteful.

Let’s just look at one example. Water. Potable water is a scarce resource, and land wars are erupting every day over water rights. “Studies on world food security estimate that an affluent diet containing meat requires up to 3 times as many resources as a vegetarian diet.” https://www.vegsoc.org/whyitsgreen. Farming accounts for around 70% of all freshwater withdrawn from lakes, waterways and aquifers (the accessible underground layer of water).29 Based on variations in water consumption, the production of a kilo of meat compared to a kilo of wheat is at least 13:1, and in some cases, 200:1. https://www.vegsoc.org/sslpage.aspx?pid=627

There are numerous other issues to be considered, all with surreal numbers. Just look for yourself at things like deforestation, fossil fuel consumption, greenhouse gas emissions, pollution, artificial hormone ingestion, and food security. If those aren’t enough consider the health care crisis. First world countries like the U.S. are suffering a rapid increase in preventable epidemics in heart disease, diabetes, and several types of cancer. These are directly correlated with diet, and a heavily meat-based diet.

None of these issues were on the radar in the town where I grew up. But as an adult, I have found that awareness is growing. While only 2% of the population is vegetarian, there is a growing trend in meat reduction.

You don’t have to become vegetarian. You can have a dramatic impact on your health, your society, and the planet, by simply reducing your meat consumption and being mindful of where your meat comes from. Learn how to cook something new, and help to make your family healthier.

Start small! You might try starting out with Meatless Mondays, an international trend where families simply avoid meat for one day. Then, look to purchase meat from local farmers instead of big factory productions. If you can’t identify what animal it came from, should you really be eating it? Is baloney even real meat? What hormones and chemicals are you ingesting in that processed stuff? If they can’t answer these questions at your supermarket, seek out a local farmers market or butcher shop instead.

I work with people everyday who aren’t familiar with this topic. They think it’s simple. They grew up eating animals, and that’s normal. Why question tradition?

Our world is changing rapidly. It’s a global economy, like it or not, and issues in Africa are impacting the way we live and breathe. As developing countries grow up and try to emulate prosperous nations like the Unites States, forests in the Amazon are being bulldozed to make room for cattle production. Habitats are being permanently lost for endangered species you’ve never even heard of. Water is being polluted, and competing fossil fuel consumption is driving up prices at the pump in your own town. If we can’t change our path, how can we expect others to do so? The entire planet cannot survive if we all lived the “American Dream.” We have to adjust, and redefine what it means to be Americans.

If you consider yourself a humanitarian, if you claim to follow Christian values, if you believe in the Golden Rule, and if you care about your family’s health, then you owe it to yourself to pause. Just take a minute to consider the bigger picture. Are you willing to change, just one day, to free up more resources for others who are less fortunate? To reduce your children’s risk of diabetes? To ensure that they will have clean lakes to swim in? Just one day, that is a start.