From the Bean of Green Bean.
I have less than forty minutes, I think, to write tomorrow's post. I had planned to write about my baking bread adventures. Yes, you read that right. I, Green Bean, bake bread. And not just any bread but beautiful, bountiful artisan bread. I follow the directions in Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day - a book so helpful that I bought it from a local bookseller after enjoying the library copy for my allotted time. Bread so delicious that we no longer buy two loaves at $5 each from the local baker. We skip the packaging too.
Tammy from Girls Wear Blue Too turned me on to the book - and the idea that I don't need to buy all the "required" equipment. Instead of plunking down $20 on a virgin wood pizza peel, I co-opted a plastic serving tray lurking above the fridge for the last few years. When I baked so much that only a 25 pound bag of locally ground organic flour made sense, I skipped the purchase of a new flour bin and converted a never used beverage container into a bin.
But, alas, I'm not going to write about my bread today.
No. The Green Moms Carnival is coming up and I don't want to be left out. The topic this month is Conserving Resources, a broad topic if ever there was one. It will be hosted tomorrow at Mindful Momma - nothing like squeaking in at the last minute.
What, in the world, though, do I have to say about conserving resources. Taking a break from the blog, I sneak over to stir the tomatoes bubbling down into winter's pasta sauce and examine my fall garden plan. I do indeed have to get the broccoli in this week and the mustard greens too. The cauliflower and breadseed poppies can wait until next week. What we grow doesn't forestall a visit to the local farmers' market but I am able to skip a week every now and then. There's nothing like sitting down to a dinner grown on our little city lot.
But conserving resources? What would I say about that?
I check my watch. Twenty minutes and then I need to trundle over to a neighbor's house. Her apple tree is ready and she's offered me full pickin's. This will be the third year I've raided her apple tree. The third year we've eaten her apples in cobblers, butters, cakes and pies. After picking apples, I'll put away the air dried reusable containers from the kids' lunches, fold up the cloth napkins and rags. I'll ignore the pile of mending yet another day and wonder if I should start collecting scraps from the holey, outgrown jeans for a jean quilt.
Then it will be time to drive the carpool of kids home from school, cut down the last of summer's sunflowers, bury them in the compost bin and think about dinner. I'll rummage through the fridge's contents, using up the almost but not yet bad vegetables, create some sort of soup and serve it with today's fresh baked bread. After the kids go to bed, I'll work on the scarf I've been knitting and hope to figure out how to make my son the crocheted teddy bear he has requested for Christmas.
Those are the things I'm thinking about today. Not about saving the rainforest or whether an individual's efforts to live lightly matter. Not about spending less money or Climate Change (though I will turn off the micro sprinklers after yesterday's freak rain storm).
I'm only thinking about how good it feels to live this way. To eat what we've made or grown. To use only what we need. To reuse what we have and maintain our things so that they can last us longer. To own our stuff instead of having it own us. To share with others when we have more than we need. To live within and according to our principles.
To be resourceful.