From the bean of Green Bean.
* All photos courtesy of blogger and friend, Jess Nichols, of Sweet Eventide.
I don't have much time to write this post. There is bread rising on the counter that will need to go into the oven. The dehydrator is whirring with a neighbor's persimmons. Dried beans from our front yard garden soak in a bowl next to the sink. Butter softens next to the stove - a prime suspect for this afternoon's cookies. Eggs await in a cooler at a friend's house - a drop for pastured, local eggs.
The farmers' market is tomorrow and I need to make my list, peruse my cookbooks, leaf through favorite recipes. I wonder what might be there. Broccoli and potatoes for sure. That sounds like soup! Spinach and beets. Maybe a salad? Pasta sauce that I made in September will need to be pulled out of the freezer. A jar of blackberry jam goes into the fridge. And those pumpkins lurking by the front door - those 128 pounds of pumpkins that we grew in our garden - those will need to be dealt with.
There are peeps emanating from the garage. No doubt water to be changed, feed to be added and soft, tiny bodies to be cradled. (Yes. I've got chicks! That's Fluff, Serena and Butterscotch up above and Willow and Lollipop down below).
It's a cold November morning and there is laundry to be done. There's a chill and so I put on a jacket and some slippers. I leave the heater set at 64 degrees and tiptoe out to turn the sprinklers down on the vegetable garden and off on everything else.
A tangle of yarn and double pointed needles poke out of my purse, demanding to be transformed into a teddy bear (shhhh!) for Christmas. There's the stack of knit wool hats to be sold at the craft faire to raise money for my son's school. And also some recycled crayon Christmas trees. What should we charge for those, I wonder?
My son's robot costume - the winner of a green Halloween costume - looms on the dining room table; a ghost caught between our home and the recycle bin. A jar of cast off buttons waits on the kitchen table. That, two kids and a bottle of glue and we've got grandma's Christmas present.
Today, I am to write for the APLS Carnival, though. To talk about whether I've been able to change a behavior I initially thought I could not - in the name of sustainability. I think about how I, a lover of all things Target - the shiny red carts, the knock off clothing, the holiday knick knacks, stopped shopping. About how I, an eater of Lean Cuisine, went "from scratch" on everyone. About how I turned my nose up at Halloween candy and gave most of it away because, honestly, after a year of eating home-baked goodies, a Reese's peanut butter cup really doesn't taste that good. About how it I, who adored convenience, looked blankly at my brother-in-law when he asked for a paper towel. A paper what?
The truth about "going green" though is that it doesn't happen all at once. You don't wake up one morning with a fully formed victory garden outside, a pantry full of home-canned preserves and an Amish buggy in the garage. You start with something small and then take another step and another and another until suddenly you are somewhere you never thought you'd be doing things you never thought yourself remotely capable of (ahem, baking artisan bread). Don't think about where you are going. Just what the next step is. Whether it is moving from conventional produce to organic to the farmers market to growing your own. It's the thousand mile journey that begins with a single organic apple.
At least that's how it happened for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's my turn to pick up the carpool and I need to empty the compost before I go.
If you'd like to weigh in, check out the carnival topic details here and submit your post to firstname.lastname@example.org by November 15. Or pop over to Greening Families on November 18th to read what other APLS have to say about making changes in the name of sustainability.