I ate the mint

My grandfather was a mint farmer in Idaho and one of my favourite people on the planet. I would follow him everywhere and ride on the tractor with him as he worked his fields. He would distill the mint and extract the oil to sell to gum and candy companies. I have fond childhood memories of sitting in the recliner with him in the evenings, watching Johnny Cash and sucking on the football-shaped little mints his oil went into. They were just the right size and shape to fit on your tongue, the peppermint was sinus-clearing, and if you sucked on them long enough they turned into sharp shards that would cut your tongue, but they were amazing.

After Grandpa died, those mints became a tangible link to him and to my childhood. My mom found an outlet that still sells them, and every Christmas she sends a little bag of them, which I hoard and ration out carefully to make them last as long as possible. They no longer contain Grandpa's oil, of course, but the feel and taste of them in my mouth bring me such happiness. They say taste and scent are powerful triggers of memory, and I know for myself this is true. I made sure each of my grandchildren had one and told them the significance of them, and I gave one to my son's girlfriend as a way of welcoming her to the family. So much meaning imbued into one little candy! 

The latest bag of mints was eaten, carefully shared out if someone had a sore throat or a bad day, like medicine (you really had to earn one!), until only one mint remained. I tenderly set this aside, reluctant to consume it, wanting to draw out the joy as long as possible. But watching what's going on in Eastern Europe right now, knowing that at any moment life as we know it could all come crashing down...well, I decided it would be a shame if the world ended and I hadn't eaten that last remaining mint. There's enough to regret in life without that. So yesterday, with some ceremony, alone in the kitchen, I ate it. 

Seize the day! Soak up every bit of joy life offers you, while you can.

Seedlings

Ordinarily, I would have started my seeds weeks ago, but I've been out of town, and the spring seems to be getting a late start anyway. We had a dusting of snow last night, and the temperature is dropping to a high of 4 later this week.

Nonetheless, yesterday I got my seeds started -- peppers, tomatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, leeks, parsley -- and we'll just have to hope for the best. I doubt the brassicas will do much with this late of a start, but it's worth a try. I also planted the peas and onions (seeds, not sets) outside yesterday. I took the lettuce and spinach I've been growing all winter indoors and stuck it out as well, not because I thought it would survive so much as because I needed the pots. It felt kinder to give them a shot at life instead of dumping them in the composter.

The next thing I need to do is built trellises for the peas and beans, which will provide them support but also provide a bit of light afternoon shade to some of the beds this summer. They are predicting high temperatures this year, and a bit of shade will be welcome.

It felt so wonderful to be out in the garden again, poking at the soil and getting back in touch with myself. I know that sounds weird, but I'm my most authentic self when my hands are in the dirt.

Sword, Pestilence, and Famine

Well, we've had two years of pestilence, swords are being raised in eastern Europe, and next up is famine. It's difficult these days to watch any news broadcast or Youtube video without being told about coming food shortages. The supply chain disruptions have been building for many months. Weather conditions have been harsh, and drought is a real, ongoing thing in many places in North America. And yet I still get the impression that many in the west think that famine is something that can only happen in the Sudan or Ethiopia.

There is one Youtube channel I watch periodically where people write in with updates on the shortages they see in their areas, from around the world. It helps to get a bigger picture of what's happening. I'm always sort of amused, in a dark way, by the ones who write in to say they see only four or five choices of salad dressing in the grocery store, or only a couple of kinds of pasta. They report that stores carry only certain brands and not others. We have become so accustomed to having a multitude of choices that any reduction in choice almost becomes an affront. Any limitation at all becomes a "shortage." We still enjoy vast abundance in the west compared to many people in the world. I fear reality's going to hit us harder than others simply because we're so used to not just quantity but variety on demand.

I'm also finding that many items that people are worried about are items I have never purchased, like "Manwich" (which I gather is come kind of canned sloppy joe mix). I have tried to focus in my life on being a producer more than a consumer, but I suppose eventually I will also feel the pinch at some point. I'll be interested to see what that reveals to me about myself. What expectations do I have that I'm not even aware of? What unknown brand biases might I have? What will I miss most? We shall see.

Am I Just Wimpy?

I mentioned it snowed, right? Actual snow, on the ground. Biting wind. I go out to walk Brio, wearing my hoodie with a jacket over it, hat and gloves, and leg warmers over my sweat pants.

The kid next door is out playing without his shirt on, and his mom is in the back yard wearing a tank top.

Made me feel like a marshmallow.

Kindness

My lovely neighbours Mary and Paul decided that it was too sad to be alone with a can of Spam on Easter, so they delivered a gift bag yesterday with lemon-buttermilk cupcakes, cookies, and a nice book. Isn't that the sweetest thing ever? A lovely gesture that brightened my whole week. A reminder that stockpiling and preparing and being independent are important, but having ties to community is even more so.

It's Easter Sunday. There's a dusting of snow on the ground, the furnace is running nicely, the dog is snoring beside me, church is on Zoom, and I have lemon-buttermilk cupcakes I fully intend to eat for breakfast (along with the homemade yogurt that, I am pleased to announce, appears to have worked). Days don't get much better than this. 

"There is a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ. He is the light and the life of the world; yea, a light that is endless, that can never be darkened..." (Mosiah 16:8-9).

Food Shortages and a Home Inventory

I came up to our old church we're renovating, intending to stay for a week. But some of the tradesmen needed to have us around the following week and my hubby had to get back to the city for something, so he left me here and returned home. He won't be back up to get me until the 25th, so instead of staying for a week, I'm staying unexpectedly for four. While I'm here, I have no car and no access to a grocery store.

I am sure everyone is aware of the food shortages and empty shelves going on right now. This three-week stay will be a test of how well we are prepared. I have enough staples to keep me going, though the fresh fruit and vegetables ran out the first few days. When the frozen veg runs out, I have canned. But I see I am lacking in fruit and some of the frills, such as chocolate... I know, I know, chocolate isn't technically a staple, but it's amazing how one's body begins to crave it as soon as it isn't available! I also see that the low-carb diet is an impossibility right now...

I also see that I should have stocked up on more puzzles and books. There's only so much I can work on stained glass before my hands give out, and there's only so much Netflix one can endure.

I'll be on my own for Easter, but I have Spam I can pretend is ham, and I have instant mashed potatoes (I know, I know, but it's better than nothing). And I have enough eggs to make brownies. I can watch church via Zoom, and yesterday I watched the Tabernacle Choir Easter presentation on Youtube. So all in all, I'm fine for the holiday.

I have frozen milk, but was running out of yogurt, so I took the last half cup of it and tried making a batch of homemade yogurt with it in the crockpot. I'll find out in a few hours if it was successful.

I've started making a list of the things I'm running out of, so that I'll know what to stock up on next time. This has been a good trial run. I would recommend it to anyone -- stop shopping for a month and see where your weaknesses are.

  

Good Friday

Today I slept in until 6:00, read for a while, caught up on the news online, did a puzzle, listened to music, did a batch of laundry, went for an hour and a half-long walk in the sunshine, played ball with the dog at the park, winnowed my dried seed corn (windy days are perfect for this), made homemade yogurt, cooked a chicken, read some more, and ate a chocolate bar. Now it's 4:00 and I'm settling in to write for a while.

This. This is what days are supposed to be like.

Update on the Project for Ukraine

I've made 40 sunflowers now. Proceeds will go to the Red Cross for humanitarian efforts for Ukraine.

Project for Ukraine

The Watford/Warwick Horticultural Society is making and selling crocheted sunflowers and knitted stuffed hearts to raise money for humanitarian efforts for Ukrainians. The flowers can be worn as pins (like poppies) and the hearts can hang from your rearview mirror to show where your heart is. I've volunteered to help with the sunflowers (have made 13 so far).

There's a lot to stress out about right now, and having a small project I can focus on is calming and grounding. I may not be able to solve all problems, but I can deal with this yarn, this hook, right here in front of me.