Happy New Year. May 2015.

We are all given the same amount of time in a day. 24 hours to do exactly what we want, or exactly what we need to get done before we lay our heads on the pillow at night. We are also given 30 days a month to change our lives, we are also give 365 days in the year to change the world. That is a grand total of 8,760 hours to simply be productive. The last 8, 760 hours that started Mother's Day weekend of 2014 was sure a fast year but definitely not a repeat of the previous 365 days of 2013. No "Groundhogs Day" going on here that's for sure.


In a matter of 8 of those hours and with the Sailor Black-Dawg helping me dig out the garden space and the side of the house our lives have changed for the better. Our health has changed for the better and our doctor bills have lowered ... for the better! Over those 365 days we never really would have thought that three dead looking bodies and one solid prayer of hope could change the lives of so many.

Our immediate family members enjoyed so many meals from the garden and we packed away so many jars of goodies last summer that we were astonished by the amount that was provided. The real joy was the idea that we could give some away. I do admit I was a little stingy at first but over the year I came to realize that it was just fine to share, to give away and to surprise people with half gallon jars full of ready made salad greens that were sealed tight and lasted two weeks in their fridge! The smiles were smiles of gratitude.



There have been many changes over the last 12 months and the visual changes of the garden have got to be the most noticeable. We went from a patch of dirt along side the house no larger then a twin bed it seemed like to a huge 10x30 square piece of land that was tilled up and domed up like three dead bodies.
It took serious convincing of the boyfriend to allow that much grass out of his loving tender care but he finally let go and actually helped till. He is from the South and you all know how hard it is for any South'ner to give up land. ;)






















We have gone from kneeling on the ground and pulling weeds through the murky waters at one end of the pumpkin patch to nicely leveled ground with titty pink boxes that are evenly spaced with the drainage problem fixed and more room to grow more food. With a grand total of 350+ square feet of garden space we are actually able to rotate our crops and amend the soils in each box for the next years seeds.

It's not just as easy as throwing in some starts in back fill and hoping for the best. No it definitely takes a good long silent prayer for help, a few angels and a whole library full of really well written books to learn from. This last winter those books were all over the kitchen table and my massive design desk.
Huge pieces of butcher paper with scribbles and big empty squares, salvaged glass windows were hung on the wall as make shift white boards for design ideas, and recycled skylights protected our leafy greens through the mild winter months. Little by little our small garden space took shape in our heads. There was one moment last summer sitting in the ferry line, coming home to the island that we live on, when we sat in the cab of the truck and worked out the numbers on the costs for new garden beds and the materials that they would be made from. Island prices for wood were outrageous, just like our veggie bill from the grocery store! We didn't even look into the cost of cement blocks at the time because we ended up choking on our lunch at the price of wood. So being the resourceful human beings that we are we sent a goal out into the universe - really it was another prayer on the wings of our neighborhood eagle - this is how it was stated aloud.

"May 2015, we will have brand new to us garden beds that will be: build with sturdy lumber that we will find, collect and pay no more than $100 for and we will paint them with the left over paints that we will mix together from the shed. We will shape the boxes square or rectangle so that each bed can be planted with companion plants to bring in pollinators and protectors for the veggies allowing for good veggies to nourish our bodies and a sense of freedom from the grocery store."

Well ... it happened. All of the wood for the boxes came in from many different sources. A couple of our landscape clients ripped out their perfectly good decks and the wood came home. A couple of the early boxes were built from tongue and grove slats out of a house remodel and were too good to pass up at the junk store. All the boxes were painted the lovely titty pink from the mixed up left overs of painting projects which eliminated the waste cost at the dump. Now each box sits in its place with layers and layers of cardboard, compost, topsoil, back fill, sand, and of course starts for the spring season.














The design process proved to be a little more complex than I originally imagined since the boyfriend allowed more space than originally thought. I am always up for a good challenge and this was perfect! We gained another 50 feet that now houses our cold crops and the starts to our tomatoes. Talk about hard-core impatience. I was praying for spring like you can't imagine. Oh hell, I will admit that a couple of weeks after putting the Christmas tree up I started seeds! (As you could see from the Vines videos this winter.) We had beans by February! Unfortunately, the corn died off but the whole planting process renewed spring within me and kept me going through the dark months.
The one major bonus that came along for us was the new fencing that we were not setting goals for, we didn't budget for nor did we even expect it. It was more like one of those long-term goals that was drawn up on paper "the new home for the raspberries" but not really on the forefront of our minds. Thanks to some friends that took down their old garden fencing that was hand-built we got not only that new home for the raspberries but a trellis for the vining fig and to great walls for the Boysan and Logan berries! SCORE!! We loaded each panel up and with hugs exchanged we drove them beauties home for a new life as a living wall of berries!














Not only has the physical appearance of the yard changed, not only have the boxes been put in place and filled with yummy starts but the inside of our bodies have changed with great food that we have grown for our selves. We do grow what we eat and nothing more. There is no sense in wasting the eggplants since no one eats them. We grow what we need and not too much more. If we do have more than in gets put up for the winter months.

You know how squash can be ... prolific!

Those extras get happily passed on to others. Now with all the space that we have there is definitely room for more. We have the chance to "Grow A Row" for the Food Bank and for boxing up things to hand out to the neighbors if need be.

Our little community of neighbors may not know this but they have helped in so many ways in getting our happy little garden space growing. Each one of them have yards that are loaded with blooming pretties of some sort or another, they all have invited birds, bees, and insects that bring a healthy community of wildlife. We have what you could say our own little permaculture right here on our 5 acres and 8 houses.


This last year 365 days have seen a multitude of changes and the changes that everyone can see has been for the betterment of our own personal lives, hearts, and souls but also for our little community of 8 houses. Next is the betterment of the outside community which is our small town and the people who live with in our 57 miles of an island. We will get there ... we have plans!

This is just the beginning to finding our personal freedoms from the grocery store, from the doctors office and from wasting what we don't need. Our lessons have been documented and what we have learned will be passed on to you when you read through up coming posts. The structure of the garden is now in place but the lessons we learn will keep on coming just as the produce that grows with in the soil that we have created. Our freedom starts in the soil, our roots need nutrients just as our lives need a solid foundation and room to grow.

Dads. War. Lemon Jam.

We have all heard the statement before.

"When life gives you lemons you make lemonade."

Other statements we have heard sound like this: "When life gives you lemons squeeze them in your hair and go surf!" or "When life hands you lemons make Limoncello!" or this is always a good philosophy quote, "When life gives you lemons grab the tequila and call the girls!" BUT first we hit that emotional crap that says "When life hands you lemons ... squirt them in people eyes!" There is nothing more satisfing at times than a little evil thoughts that bring a little vengence. If we are not careful though those little thoughts turn into a fifth of tequila, a serious hangover and clothes strung out all over the place.  :)

The boyfriend and I were handed a couple of lemons in our life times, our fathers. Some times it seems like those lemons get carried around with us everywhere we go. Want to emphasis this. Evvverrrywheerre we goooo. (Insert eye roll here). This morning one of the lemons resurfaced in the realization that the boyfriends father now has a Facebook profile. Really all I could come up with for a text statement was ... eventually everyone will end up on Facebook. My father also has a profile but he never goes on the darns thing. It would make things a lot easier if he did since he likes to call and ask how things are going but if he would just look at my profile then things would be less cumbersome on the phone.

Just realized how awful that sounded when the best thing really is a personal touch instead of the digital world taking over our lives. In this case though it would make things easier. You can probably see the tension in the air even as you read this. The relationship hasn't been great. Here is a quick history: He left. Mom was pissed. My life crumbled. There enough said about that. So for years of course I had to hear about the evil things my father did or stood for, had to listen to my mom belly ache about everything. As a teenager going into high school the last thing I needed was a messed up relationship that was going to drag me from one state to another for summer or holiday vacations. Needless to say I was a hot mess. one letter was written by me to him informing him that for the time being it would be best to stay away. I couldn't handle the drama. There was a 10 pound lemon bag that was draggin my ass to the ground all the freakin' time. Little did I know at the time of the war that was raging ... not only inside of me but also around me.

Years went by and I finally figured out that the bag of lemons were getting a bit moldy and needed some serious attention. The little net bag had lost its paper label and the lemons were a bit sorry looking. Wasn't until recently that a solution to the lemon problem surfaced and a reasonable explanation could fix it all. Wasn't until a couple years ago that I was able to think clearly about the cure for this little lemon sack.

Thank God for His patience.
Yes, He waited.

Trust me, I had my fair share of tequila and girl nights. Honestly, the clothes never got strung all over the place but there were plenty of mornings that were rough. Now that the thinking cap has been screwed on a little straighter things are looking a little more clearly. I have gone through a divorce in my life, ok two, and I get the fact that it takes two to tango but really you are not just dealing with the other person and the other persons attitude or mood swings or the fact that he doesn't listen, doesn't care or whatever excuses you can come up with but you are also fighting those evil little bastards that were handed down all those generations ago. You also come with our own little demons that talk smack and they compete against your partner too, so don't think that you have the perfect package wrapped up in a bright bow! Those freaking little demons that sit on your shoulder daily, hell hourly and "help you make good decisions". Well my middle finger flies up to those little "helpers" They have helped enough. The war that they are raging is unfair and completely uncalled for. They may have preserved that 10 pound lemon sack for all these years but it is time for me to fix them up and figure out a better plan.

That I have. The plan has been set in motion. The plan to heal and to be free is under way and so has Project Lemon Sack. One can really only make so much lemonade before the enamel the teeth starts rotting away. So troubles have started to melt like lemon drops (minus the Vodka). My attitude at this point is SCREW keeping calm and sipping lemonade. It's high time to start squeezing the lemon juice right in the eyes of the "helpers"!!

My solution is to make lemon jam.
Yeah that will teach 'em.

Fumbling through a vintage recipe book the other day and found a quick simple paragraph describing how to make this yummy jam. (Humpf.) My initial thoughts after reading the instructions. You just need a little lemon juice, a pinch of lemon zest, equal amounts of weights for lemons and sugar oh yeah and don't forget to cook it on the stove for hours. Well that really doesn't work for most people so I have fixed the step-by-step process.

Ready?
You are going to get more then you bargained for when you keep reading.
Satisfaction guaranteed.

Now, I am a girl that likes substance. You know the pulp! I love the thick pulp in orange juice too! If you are not a pulp drinker then please by all means strain it out. For me the pulp is the susbstance that adds to the mix. It's the raw material that makes up the whole, it's the problem that needs the solution. It's the part of the whole package and needless to say I love a good challenge so in this case the pulp stays.

Grinding away at the peel of a lemon can get a little weird, reminds me of picking at the scab on your knee from falling down. You want to take it all off so that the bitterness comes out and the sweetness can get on with things. No one wants to hurt, no one wants to bleed and no once wants that sour bitterness to linger in their lives after there is no more need for it. Kinda like the rough peeling of the hardness of our hearts. We could gently peel the layers off like an onion or we could just go straight for the gusto and shred that crap off! So we can pick or in this case we shred the lemon peel for the zest. The recipe called for a pinch, remember? In this jam we will use the peel of four lemons. We will use the total of 8 lemons or if you so choose you could use 12, 16, 32, 89 whatever you want just make sure you double, triple or use the 10x rule when adding the sugar.

Find a pot and fill it with four, count them four cups of water.
One of the four basic ingredients to everything.
Water the life force behind everything.

The one wet substance that thrives to make our lives easier when it comes to washing out the bitterness to the lemon peel or the scrapes on our knees. Salt water maybe the cure for anything that ails us but for this purpose we will only use clean fresh water as the cleansing department for the rinds that we have shred.

Turn the stove on to medium so that the zest and the water have a chance to cook out that nasty bitterness. Let it simmer down while you work on the rest of the lemons. Those precious simmering moments are perfect for thinking. Mindless job of cutting up lemons, squeezing out the juice and separating out the seeds handed quiet moments to think about the time that has been lost because of carrying around this almost moldy 10 pound bag of lemons.

Squeezing the juice reminded me of the bag that was squeezing the life out of body. Separating the seeds out was a good reflection of separating good thoughts from the tough ones. Truth will set us free and thank goodness for the truth that has been coming out through the transformation of this 10 pound lemon bag. Those truth thoughts are the happy makers, the bliss makers.
Working with lemons is tough business. If you have a cut on your finger the juice gets in there and really burns! I kept rubbing my eyes and getting the juice ... well you know what I am saying. So here is my word of caution:
DON'T STICK YOUR FINGER IN YOUR EYE IF THERE IS LEMON JUICE PRESENT.

Back to the pulp or back the real business of fixing up this lemon mess that we were dealt with. We are now at the stage where we can squeeze the juice from the lemons that we just cut in half and that we just shredded the rinds off of. There are many ways to get the juice out. Please by all means use your favorite method. My method was a little unorthodox. I took one half of the lemon in my left hand held it firmly and and squeezed the first parts of the juices out. In my right hand I had my favorite butter knife, I than began to scrape the insides out to free more of the juice but really to get more of the substance out. Then returned the halves back to the cutting board (aka the counter) I sliced them thinly, you know MORE PULP!  Seeds were left to the counter. Must admit though some of them made it into the simmering juice. I did fish them out later.


One of the most impressive ways for me to go at problem is to go straight for the core of the issue. So what! Maybe I like cutting to the chase and using a butter knife is somewhat safe. Somewhat. Safer then a steak knife! My methods of juicing are not recommended in a commercial kitchen setting but hey, I would never be allowed in that type of setting anyways. "Scary!" as the boyfriend would say.

With the four other lemons that are still whole and sitting on the counter I turned to them and cut them in half. Every problem or situation that comes our way always has 8 different sides. Every aspect of our lives are touched. Our emotional health touches are physical well-being which in turn touches are spiritual side that then brings shame that bounces off of us and bothers our social sides. When one side gets left out then the issue really never gets resolved. For instance, my bag of lemons was handed over to me the day I was born. I didn't deserve it, nor did I want it, nor was I raising my hand endlessly, excitedly or beggin for them. The unfairness of it all.

My father passed on family secrets and troubles that he was unaware of and so did my mother. As a few of these "issues"  have been unearthed the healing has begun. The truth is beginning to be revealed and who I am as a person is starting to become more clear. The little "helper demons" are vanishing and the sweetness is beginning to be brought forward with the simmering of the bitterness. What has cause so much bitterness can actually be contributed to more then just my own actions. Do I dare blame my parents? Hell no! Do I blame their parents for passing on poor decision making? Hell no! Could I possibly blame my great, great grandparents for there actions and their part in this whole family torment!? Well that too would be a hell no! Could I blame Eve!? Ooooooooh, how I wish I could but even then the temptations of us all drive us to create our own sacks of lemons.


So I scrap. I scrape the inside of the peel to my hearts content. All the scrapings drop into the steaming pot of zest and water. Zest, juice, and water simmer a little longer trying to rid the pot of the last bit of bitterness.
I don't time anything. As for this project there was no stop clock there was no timer set and gawd forbid I reach over and clear the microwave to see the digital digits of when I started! The recipe did say to cook for a while, remember?

For me the process takes time. It takes the smell of the substance it takes the patience of the slow simmer to reveal the true sweetness. Admittedly, every issue that has come up in life has always boiled down to the slow simmer, the endless thoughts of the what if's or the hours of weed pulling to come to the perfect solution. Yes, it drives people crazy that I don't have an answer right away but for me its about listening. chewing, believing. Have I dreamt of having the perfect relationship with my dad? Well of course I have but the reality sits at this: we are simmering to perfection.


One of the greatest advantages to having 8 sides like a stop sign is this, friendship. We all need a little help now and then to get through the rough patches, to help us get through the sludge that we find ourselves knee deep in and a helper who will just sit and listen. The best ones are the ones that listen and don't talk. Some of the greatest artist, chefs, and structual engineers have people around to help them solve their problems whether it be struggling with the perfect color green for sea water, or the amount of salt to drop in a sauce or finding the perfect balance between water and waste on the ships ballast. Every time I am in the kitchen creating some sweet master piece or just plain dinner I always have my right hand guy!

Buck-roo has heard it all. He is the one black boy that will sit right in the middle of everything and just listen. Of course he likes to throw out his opinions on samples of what's cookin' but most of all during the hardest questions he stares back and just wants more lovin's. Really that is what it all boils down to. We all want more lovin's. We don't need the false help. We don't need the misguided trust of lies. We don't want the crap dished out from our great grandparents. We don't want the hate. We don't want the bitter bite of sourness. We just want love.

So we add the sugar.
2 cups of sugar to be exact.

OR 1 1/2 cups of sugar and half o' cup of honey.
Your choice. We prefer the honey.

While the mixture simmers down and the jammin' up begins we can clean out and sterlize the jars that we need to put the new jam into. Cleaning out the trash of our hearts, cleaning out the spiderwebs of anger, cleaning out he dust of mistrust and years of unbelief helps us understand that there is more to life. There is more to the saying "when troubles melt like lemon drops!" (Thank you IZ for the remake of that amazing song. I will always sing that line.) We can freely step up and sterlize our lives with that fresh clean water and fill our selves with a new sweet substance that everyone will appreciate.


Is this enough? Is 2 cups of sugar really enough? Yes, the magic within the natural pectin of the lemon, the juices and the water mixed with the sweetness of the sugar lovin's all become the perfect solution to the never ending history of problems. All sides of us can let go. We can taste the sweet and let go of the sour. We can enjoy the moments that we are able to create fresh and we can enjoy a little lemon jam on our cornbread. We can finally let go of the netted sack with the lost paper label that was tied around us. We can be free from the tormenting helpers and learn to love the way that were were intended to give loved.

Once the lemons have been mulled over, squeezed and simmered they make the sweetest jam. Most of all we can shelve those lemons for another day. We can share them with friends, we can eat them at feasting time, or we can sit back with our feet up and enjoy a tablespoon in our tea. Those lemons no longer have their hold on us and they no longer give off the bitter flavor that sours and clouds our minds or our hearts. Lemons can be like Garth says: "Some of Gods' greatest gifts are unanswered prayers" or in some defiant, arguable cases they become answered prayers.

So raise those sterilized jars in gratitude, bless the jam that is about to fill them, seal the sweet substance and let cool. Once the seals have popped closed you know that you are free to let go! Put them on a shelf and never look back but share the experience every time you crack open a new jar. Smile and reveal in the experience of growing you just never know who may need to learn from your story. Cheers!

Discipline.

The first time in my life that I really had to use discipline was the first 10 days after my first doctors appointment. True discipline was needed to get me through 10 gruelin' days of eating only four things for breakfast, lunch and dinner. My only options were rice, pears, sweet potatoes and wild meat.
(ok, ok, if you expand on the wild meat category than I had a few other options.) The meats included elk, venison, salmon and a few other random creatures from the sea.

Hummm ... how was this goin' to work and in how many ways could I cheat? How could I sneak in a few cookies? Pasta? or a big pot of mashed taters? The options and the cravin's were endless but the discipline that I pulled out was clearly not my own. Deep down I know where it came from and am thankful for the extra help. Funny how the mind will try to trick you into thinkin' that you can't survive with out chips, cake or better yet CUPCAKES!!!

Whinin' and cryin' commenced through those 10 days of only eatin' the four things. Once I figured out garlic and cinnamon were in the pills that I was taking to clean out my GI track - Voila! - fresh garlic was introduced. Cinnamon came in the next mornin' when I grilled my pears on the bbq and ate them over a bowl of rice. One can become very creative when stuck with only 4 things to eat. Readin' the labels of the meds from a natural-path can open up the whole herb world and bring back flavor!

Understandably, the body does get tired of eatin' a few things but it simplified what was for dinner and for 10 days I didn't hear the dreaded question "What"s for dinner?"

The days were long are hard, energy levels where super low and the headaches that came due to the sugar cravin's were like living through detox of some bad drug. The shakes kicked in and the naps were endless but I stuck to the plan. The headaches stopped a week into the process and the cravings for watermelon kicked in hard! Anythin' green actually! That was it I couldn't take it anymore. The naps were great and I had enjoyed giving every excuse for nappin' and gettin' away with it but there came a point when even I noticed it was too much.

I needed lettuce, carrots, celery!
I needed greens!!

This was not because I missed them oh, so much. My body was cravin' greens out of a life and death situation. Greens pronto! Greens stat!! Greens in an IV!!

This was the one and only time that I broke down and ate a salad. Turns out that was one of the greatest moves that my brain decided to make. The energy levels perked up and in four hours I had the entire house cleaned and laundry done. BUT as soon as the energy came on (doom, boom, doom) I crashed. Back to the couch I landed for a three hour nap.

When Dr. Mandy heard the story of the salad she ended up changin' my medicines around. Originally she had ordered a pre-natal that would boost my vitamin deficiency, which it did, but she handed me a huge bottle and said make a shake everyday with a scoop of this. (She was so cute at this point. She lit up and a shit eatin' grin came across her face as if she was a stranger handin' me a piece of candy!) Antioxidants!!! My new candy was in the form of blended pears, water, a scoop of this strange yellow powdery stuff, cinnamon and ice. Good thing it was the middle of summer.

Sticking to something for any length of time has really never been a "thing" for me. If somethin' didn't work then I would instantly move on. Switch gears. Move out of town. Get rid of everythin'.

Discipline this time was not an option.

To heal I needed to stick with my new found candy. This meant that I had to have a change. Not just a change in diet to lose weight. I was starin' down the barrel of a shot gun and had to make one of the biggest life changes ever. Scary? Hell yes! I had to suck it up. I needed to have such a moment in time to stop me in my tracks and start me over. My eatin' habits were not all that bad. They were just not right for my insides. Eating foods I have been allergic to all my life was killin' me. All the chemicals, hormones and preservatives was maintainin' life but it wasn't a life that was goin' to be long lived or well lived. My death was loomin' and was goin' to be before I was old and it was goin' to be painful. Guaranteed.

Discipline comes every day now. The candy shakes are a permanent addition. The decisions about food are calculated, thought out, and seriously examined. Each meal is a balancin' act of choosing to suffer from a headaches and belly aches to eating a clean well deserved balanced meal. More often then not I choose to do the right. I choose to eat what I am supposed to and now the life change has created a lifestyle change with the garden. I choose to eat at home rather than eat out. I choose to preserve my foods rather then waste it by tossing the left overs out.

Next up will be a big blood draw again in November to see what is missing from the trace minerals. This will help break down the sugars that are still recordin' at high levels. We hope. Once the results are back, and we can see what is missin', then we will know what to do to make sure that the garden soil will be perfect and that we get the nutrients we need from that outside metabolism that we call dirt.