The Gift of Thrift And A Happy New Year

The last day of the year is a good day for taking down and putting away stuff from the holidays. In our home, there will be a new addition to Bill's shelf of homebrew supplies: The feed and grain coop store in Antigo  added brewing and winemaking supplies to their inventory, and Bill got a 3-gallon glass carboy. It's rare for us to spend this much on a store-bought gift, but at 23 bucks there's no way I could acquire glassblowing tools, materials and skills to make a big bottle myself.

 
Bill got me a set of wool carders at the Sievers garage sale. Everybody else got something homemade. If you were to add up the time we spend making gifts, it would probably even out with the time other people spend going to jobs to earn money to buy gifts plus the time (and gas) they use to go shop for things to buy.

But making everything does take a lot of time, so Bill and I try to alternate who makes the bulk of our holiday gifts. This was my year. You can read how I used fabric reclaimed from thrift shop sheets and curtains, the indigo vat, and bits of fabric from my stash in my gift posts on Two Red Threads.

With holiday sewing done, I had a chance to catch up on some mending. The breeze at the knees was giving Bill a chill where his Carhartt work pants wear out. My studio jeans had a few breezes of their own.

I don't spend much time on these repairs or worry too much about how they look. Apart from an occasional quick trip to the post office, chances are nobody will see them but us. To us, they're just pants -- something to keep us warm, something to deflect sawdust and slivers and stray drops of dye. And to us, patches represent more than keeping garments out of the waste stream. They represent the way we stitch together a lifestyle measured less by our income than by the progress we're making toward our long-term goals.

In truth, it's a tight squeeze. We spend more on our monthly health insurance premium than on any other category of household expense, including our mortgage -- and that's with a $5,000 deductible. Unexpected medical expenses hit us this year, but then it's always something. You feel like you're getting ahead, and a vehicle needs a new head gasket. We don't take it personally. We just do what we have to do to keep our vehicles roadworthy and our bodies healthy and productive. We've been careful, and we've been lucky.

We're making do. And for that, we are grateful.

We hope that in the new year we all can find creative ways to meet the challenges ahead (whatever they may be), and continue to make ends meet without losing track of which ends are important. Happy New Year!

An Ode To Weeds

I keep hearing from my friends that their adult children, who never before showed an interest in gardening, now want to learn to grow their own vegetables. The spirit of '76 (1976, that is) is alive and well once again.

While I didn't think so at the time, I was lucky that I was expected to weed the vegetable garden as a kid. I learned a few things. And over the years, I've adapted those lessons to my northern clime and my wacky lifestyle. Here are a few things your kids might want to know.

1. Weeds are not bad. Weeds hold the soil in place when nothing else is growing there. Sure, they compete with other plants for water and nutrients, but they're not evil.
2. Tall weeds are easier to pull. At least, this is what I tell myself when they get really tall before I have a chance to pull them.
3. Really tall weeds can be useful. The world did not stop rotating on its axis the year the peas vined up on the tall weeds.
4. Containers gardens require less weeding. Our lawn is so sandy we're grateful for the green of the quackgrass and dandelions. I have a constant battle with quackgrass in the garden, but not in the containers, which I'll tell you more about another day.

The flower bed in front of the house looks pretty sad right now, because I weed what we're hoping to eat first and the rest when I can. It will all get done, eventually. But as usual at this time of year, when it seems we go from winter to summer overnight, I'm finding it hard to balance the need to weed with the need to be prepared for upcoming classes.

But here's another thing they don't tell you about weeding: Pulling weeds from soil helps give you the confidence to recognize and pull weeds from your life. Or to leave them alone, for now at least. Could it be that some person or commitment in your life only seems like a weed, but it's really helping to support something positive or anchoring the soil until you cultivate something else?

It's something to ponder, anyway, when things look wild and unruly and it seems there isn't quite enough time to make your world look like a magazine cover.

What do you think about while you're weeding?

Weight Loss Miracle

Sunday night I needed a small piece of felt. Lazy me didn't want to go out in the cold and dark to get it from the studio. I got to thinking and lo and behold, there was felt in a box in the basement. It's been there since we moved into the new house in 2001. Last year I opened a box down there and found cans of soup. I have no idea why I packed soup that way, moved it, and stored it down there.

But our move was nothing compared to this one: The Helen Louise Allen Textile Collection recently finished packing for a move to new quarters. I've enjoyed reading about the move on their blog. In one of their posts from last summer, they were purging items.

Like many offices and other workspaces, we had over time acquired extra copies of this and that as well as our share of outdated office products. Out they went! No more boxes of typewriter ribbons for us, thanks.

Other people seem to be getting in the spirit, as well. Mayflower reports that average moving weight has decreased since 1997 by 10%, with a 2% drop from 2007 to 2008. It's a weight loss miracle. I don't know if it means people are moving into smaller, more sustainable homes or if they're just tired of having so much stuff they can't find anything. We call that "three double boilers syndrome." That's when you keep so much stuff that you can't find what you need when you need it -- so you go out and buy another one.

The two boxes of felt stuff in the basement are going out to the studio today. Space is tight out there, so I know I have to make decisions: Keep or donate. Hmm.

Sievers has a garage sale at The Gathering in October, with proceeds going to worthy causes. One year that was the Island's K-12 school art department, which at the time had an annual budget for materials of $100. Total.

The Textile Center also takes donations for their annual garage sale in April. This is an important fundraiser for the organization, as well as an unbelievable opportunity for great bargains. I helped price and sort one year and could not believe the amount and quality of donations. If you think you might be able to volunteer at this event, there's information at the bottom of this page.

I feel lighter already.

Breaking The Rules -- Bread Edition

In the 10 days since I last posted, I taught a workshop, finished pieces for a show, went downstate to help hang it, and got home to a cold house. The commercial water heater that runs our hydronic heat system needs to have a part replaced. So we fired up the wood stove and rearranged plans. We'll stay close to home to keep the fire stoked until the part comes in. We can drain the pipes easily enough, but would still worry about damage to the washing machine and dishwasher from freezing if there's no heat when the temperature dips as low as is predicted.

As my mother says, things have a way of working out for the best. We're home snug and safe. And while I'd love a hot shower, it's not that hard to heat water for sponge baths and washing dishes. In fact, it slows me down in a way that's good after the pace of the last few weeks.

So I'm finally getting the bread recipe I promised posted. We like hearty, whole grain bread, chewy bread that sticks to your ribs. Next time I'm in town, I'll take pictures of the flour grinder at Natural Living and you'll see one of the reasons I think our bread is pretty good. Other people seem to like it, too, when I take homemade bread or rolls or focaccia to potlucks. Homemade bread fits our budget better than good bread from the store, and it's pretty simple to make. Especially with the breadmaker. When our first bread machine wore out after about 10 years, it took me about 24 hours to buy a new one. When this one wears out (it's about seven years old), I'll probably replace it just as quickly.

It took me by surprise when recipes I used with the old machine didn't work exactly the same with the new one. I was frustrated at first, but it turned out to be a good thing. It got me over the notion that bread making is an exact science requiring precise measurement. You really won't go wrong just following the instructions in the manual that comes with a machine. But their recipes usually produce bread that's fluffier than we like. So here's how I break the rules.

First, while we use 100% whole wheat flour, we don't use the whole wheat setting on the machine. We use the basic (white bread) setting with the color (baking time) on "light." In this machine, I usually have to scrape down the sides with a rubber spatula while it's mixing to make sure all the good stuff gets incorporated.

Also, I adjust the moisture once the bread starts to knead. I'd rather keep our bread dense and chewy with a bit less water to begin with. If it seems too dry, I may add a teaspoon of warm water to the pan.

Don't be afraid to play with your bread machine recipes, or with mine, for that matter. Flours can vary a lot in how much moisture they absorb. Trust your eyes, your nose and your instincts. And be ready to pass the butter.

Donna's Everyday Bread (2 pound loaf)
1-2/3 cup warm water (test the temp on your wrist)
1 tsp. salt
2 (scant) Tbsp. dark brown sugar
2 Tbsp. olive oil
4 cups 100% whole wheat bread flour
2 Tbsp. milled flax seed
2 Tbsp. raw sunflower seeds
2 Tbsp. poppy seeds
2 Tbsp. millet
1-1/4 tsp. bread yeast

Follow your machine's instructions for the order in which to add liquids, dry ingredients and yeast. I add all the seeds with the flour (instead of waiting for the beep that signals "add ingredients"). Turn the machine on and let it mix, making adjustments to the moisture as necessary. When the baking cycle has finished, remove the bread from the baking pan promptly to a cooling rack. When cool, wrap it up for an hour or so before slicing if you want thinner slices. Or serve it warm in thick slabs with lots of butter, and start another loaf.

Old-Fashioned Icebox Cookies

During the holiday baking season, I’m especially grateful that I learned so many of my mom’s thrifty, time-saving kitchen secrets. Today, I made one of her specialties: Aunt Jake’s Icebox Spice Cookies. Old-fashioned cookies like these and the molasses cookies that are a tradition in Bill’s family fit our budget, and it’s hard to beat the taste.

With icebox cookies you make the dough, roll it into logs, then chill or freeze it until you’re ready to bake. I baked enough of this batch for the big cookie exchange tomorrow. There’s still enough dough in the freezer to bake three dozen more cookies. So in the unlikely event that we run out of cookies during the holidays, I can produce more in no time. Or I can just bake some so the house smells good when company arrives. If they’re looking for the cookie tray, they’re not noticing the dust bunnies, right?

Aunt Jake’s Icebox Spice Cookies
(makes 8 dozen)
1 pound butter, softened
1-1/2 cups white sugar
2 cups dark brown sugar
3 tsp. cinnamon
3 eggs
7 cups flour
1tsp. baking soda
3 Tbsp. lemon juice
1/2 cup powdered sugar

Cream the butter and sugars until well mixed. Add cinnamon, eggs, flour, soda and lemon juice. Mix thoroughly with a wooden spoon.

Sprinkle a sheet of waxed paper with powdered sugar. Grab a handful of dough, pat it into a ball, and roll the ball with your hands on the powdered sugar to form a log a little more than an inch in diameter. Wrap the roll in the waxed paper. Repeat to form more logs from the remaining dough.

Chill the logs in the fridge or store in the freezer until time to bake. To bake, preheat the oven to 375. With a sharp knife, cut a log into 1/4-inch slices. Arrange on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake 7-10 minutes if using chilled dough, 9-10 minutes for frozen dough.

Paid For

It was 7 degrees below zero this morning when I left for town, and the car started right up. The car is a 1998 Ford Escort station wagon with almost 150,000 miles on it. It’s showing some rust (did I mention I followed the salt truck into town?), but it’s paid for, and has been for a long time.

When Bill and I met, he had a van that was more than 10 years old. He used to joke that he had paid for it three times: once in principle, once in interest, and once in repairs. I know conventional wisdom says you should trade in any vehicle that inspires your mechanic to send you a gift certificate at Chrismas (thank you, Lance’s Garage). But I don’t think we’ll be doing that any time soon.

We need to avoid having another monthly payment until we no longer have a mortgage. We’ll have our house paid for in a few years -- sooner, if we can apply a little extra to principle from time to time.

For now, my preparation for longer trips includes a preventive maintenance visit to the garage. My husband calls and asks Lance to check the car over as if his own wife were going to be driving it. If Lance ever tells me not to take this vehicle, I can always rent another car for the trip.

But for now, this car still gets 38 miles to the gallon. It gets me where I need to go, when I need to be there. And it’s paid for.