Let's Rock the Greenhouse!

So, I am thinking about a greenhouse work party this weekend or next to get it cleaned out and set up and then we can sow seeds for us all.  We can do this in a social distancing kind of way.   Jan, if you have seeds left at the store, please bring and I will buy.  All, please let me know what you think.  I have the seed flats. Will need seed starting soil - Jan if you have, add that to the tab.

Sunday?

Could do a 1-4  Open house type thing and have wine and snacks, make it fun, keep our distance, and get some serious business going in the greenhouse.

Thoughts?  Ellen, Elise, please come out!  You are part of the collective.  :-) 

love to all,

Deirdre

Greetings from Ground Zero - March  19

OK, another day not writing about what I was thinking about writing.  It’s going to be short tonight.  I stumbled on this and maybe you’ve already seen it, but I found it strangely inspiring and uplifting – as did my husband.

I urge you to watch ALL of these.  Our late night talk show hosts are doing the impossible – they are bringing us into their actual homes, with their goofy kids and they're funky couches, being absolutely like every one of us, and bringing our humanity into focus.  It’s not only simply amazing, it’s actually helpful.

We’re all glued to our laptops and TVs.  Treat yourself.  Watch Stephen, Jimmy, Jimmy, Trevor, and Samantha.  Heroes – really.  You’ll feel better.

I promise.

https://deadline.com/2020/03/jimmy-fallon-jimmy-kimmel-samantha-bee-post-youtube-bits-1202887318/

Also, I took my calls at the beach and it felt great. 

Greetings from Ground Zero - March 18

Rock star chard that overwintered and is bring it in the garden

Greetings from Ground Zero – March 18, 2020

Yeah, so no.  I’m not writing about what I thought I would want to write about tonight.  There’s so much to chronicle it’s an avalanche or firehose or whatever metaphor makes sense.  Who can tell anymore?

But let’s go with the last thing that struck me on this day that Italy lost almost 500 people, the US Senate decided to get off their collective ass and actually do something, and here in King County today brought 175 new confirmed cases and a total death toll off 66.

I made dinner – by the way, ironically and perhaps temporarily, we are eating ridiculously well – and as I managed to mate a storage container with its lid, I tossed it into the chaotic drawer where these things live and I thought, “huh.  Who gives a shit about this anymore?”  The days of feeling shame/frustration over the state of my Tupperware drawer are a thing of the past.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I am finding this happening multiple times a day.  Like – that thing that seemed really important 2 weeks ago?  Not so much.  Not at all actually.  Full disclosure:  this seems to apply to daily bathing.  I did shower AND wash my hair today and I felt very accomplished as I climbed back into my dress jammies and got on my conference call.

As of tonight, my daughter and I have switched roles and she is coaching me.  I went to our local grocery store first thing Tuesday AM and was careful only to buy 1 or 2 of anything that seemed in short supply, but my daughter reiterated the awesomeness that is Bakers Authority and tonight I ordered 100 lbs of flour and a brick of yeast.  Back in the day, this family made loaves of bread that our neighbors practically fought over, so bread we can do.  And share.

 

Tonight's dinner of smoked salmon with bought and grown veggie
 plus pasta for those who can tolerate it.

That’s where I am now.  I want to make sure my friends are OK.  My usual recipe makes 3 loaves – so I could just do that, keep 1, give 2 to my pals every day, every other day, and folks will have half a loaf of bread every day.  It’s not great, but it’s something.  And I can double it and more people will have a loaf every other day.  We need to think of ways to take of each other

I have a greenhouse.  So, that’s my next strategic planning exercise.  We can do A LOT in the greenhouse.  When I was rocking it, I had hundreds of plant starts in there.  We can do this again and share out so that all the friends have starts to pot up and turn into food over the summer.

We can do this.  We can. If anyone is reading this, please send me your ideas. 

Be well.

Greetings from Ground Zero - March 17

 March 17

Well, happy St. Paddy’s Day, I guess.  I had a good day today.  Mom’s nurse came for her weekly visit and we had a good chat out in the sunshine.  We talked about Mom, of course (she is so, so thin.  I learned that at some point the body just stops absorbing nutrients.  So, while she is eating remarkably well, it’s not really doing anything.) but also the larger context of what her nurse and the team are operating in.  Stating the obvious:  it’s really, really tough out there for our health care professionals.

Earlier in the day, my workplace held its first regular staff meeting virtually.  It went remarkably well, with most people jumping on Zoom, using the chat feature to share feelings and comments while folks were talking, and generally participating earnestly and seamlessly.  There was fear.  Resentment at losing the ability to work at work.  Denial.  But, generally a collaborative vibe, a we’ll-get-through-this-together feeling.

We talked about self-care and how to get through this.  One person shared her favorite natural immune-boosting supplements.  Our Executive Director shared the importance about not being glued to your computer 8 hours a day.  I shared what I read yesterday:  Take this moment to nurture your creative side.  We are in a time of Before and After.  No matter what happens, the rest of your lives will forever be Before this moment, and After.

Journal.  Write what you are experiencing, what you are seeing.  What is unfolding.  Even if just so 6 months from now you can remember.  B/c otherwise it will absolutely all be a blur.  Chronicle your own personal experience.

That is what I am trying to do here.  Some days better than others, I am sure.   I am actually embarrassed about yesterday’s post.  But, it is what it is.  I’m out of practice and I hope I will get better each day.

Tomorrow, unless I change my mind, I am going to write about what it feels like to me to be living in the cliché that every major global event spurs people to write about:  how it all happened so fast – one day you’re living what feels like a rich but stressful life and then 2 weeks later, you’re looking back and it seems an eternity since that life was your reality.  You're different, the world is transformed, and every decision is fraught with consequences.

But, who knows, the clouds or the grass or the dog might strike me as needing some writing love.

Be good to yourself, be kind and generous with others.  Be well.

See you tomorrow.

#Greetings from Ground Zero

So, it’s Day 13 in the Mostly-Self-Isolated G-W household and unbelievably no acts of violence have occurred.  Good news.

I worked a shift at the NW Flower and Garden Festival Wednesday, February 26^th and again on Saturday, February 29^th.  If my sniffles, scratchy throat, and occasional cough came from anywhere, it is most likely from this event (to clarify – if I have been dealing with a mild case of the virus, this is likely where I caught it).  By the following Wednesday, March 4^th, I was heading home from the office on my way to isolation in a thankfully forward-thinking moment.

I participated in a conference call on the way home that I was woefully unprepared for, believing, erroneously, that it had been canceled, joining more than 20 minutes late, and distressing all our partners with my uncharacteristically blunt assessment of how my organization saw the future of this endeavor.  I was distracted and unprofessional.  Major clean up on aisle Oops in the following days.

By the next morning, I was in total pre-dystopian future mode.  I headed back into the city for my therapy appointment and then to a what-must-seem-laughably-calm Costco.  I picked up what I came for – hadn’t planned on TP and there was none – and headed home where I spent the evening thinking about what an apocalyptic pantry should have and ordering it on Amazon – again, at the tip of the spear of the online-buying community.  Many of my purchases were scooping up the last of the item on offer.  For the record, I did not over-buy/hoard.

By the weekend, we had 20 lbs of rice (Costco), boxes of pasta, tins of chicken and tuna, pasta sauce, pesto, and various beans.  Also tortillas.  Because my husband is addicted to quesadillas.  (thanks, Curt).

Then I turned to the garden.  Well, we were the lucky ones with 5 acres and raised gardens both still producing from last year (kale and chard) and beds ready for this spring’s seeds.  And we had a greenhouse.  Let’s do this thing. 

So, today is March 16^th.  I feel quietly relieved for being out in front of this – that is not to say that I have this nailed.  If supply chains are truly disrupted for a long time, I’m in the tub with everyone else.  But I have planted over 200 seeds of a variety of food crops, and I have strategized with my also-planner daughter 2+ hours away and together we got HER household ready and steady for the long haul. 

They have beans, they have rice, (and yes TP – it took a voyage).  Protein (“don’t knock spam, Mom”), and 200 lbs of flour (“thank god you taught me how to make bread, Mom – I can make 400 loaves with what we have on hand and by keeping our sourdough alive”).  I can sleep.  She’s got this.  She’ll be OK. 

I tell her to tell her roommates that no one is getting evicted if their jobs dry up.  We’re all in this for the long haul.  Stick together.  We’ll get through it.  You have me, I tell her.  I’m a week ahead of you – I will tell you what to look for, what to do.  Lean on me.  She went to Costco late last week and reported it was fine.  I said, you won’t be able to get in next week.  Think through what you need.  Order now.  She did.

Did I mention that I caretake for my 97 year old mom who, at this point, is probably 80 pounds?   Technically, we are all high-risk.  Me, with my asthma, my husband who turns 61 next month and had a heart attack 18+ months ago.  And mom.

We’ve put a lot in place over the past 15 years to ensure her old age would be gentle, loving, and enjoyable.  And we succeeded.  Until now.  She went into hospice late November, but then responded so well she got healthy(ish) again.  Just in time to be a major complicating factor in our household’s response to the virus.

That sounds horrid, referring to my mom as a complicating factor.  It sounds like I don’t love and honor and cherish her.  But I do.  So, so much.  But there’s simply no denying the reality that having in your midst and under your care and decision-making framework a person who statistically is almost certain to contract (caregivers going patient-to-patient arrive here almost daily) and die from this disease is complicating and heartbreaking in more ways than may be obvious.

So, day by day.  My husband and I have come to grips, maybe, with the reality that she will probably succumb to CoronaVirus, and it would have been something else soon anyway.  We try to work in separate corners of the house while we are WFH for the foreseeable future so we don’t start snarking on every perceived slight. I get out in the sun for as much time as humanly possible, with my laptop or without, and we navigate pre-existing family drama as best we can b/c: Life.

We are very, very fortunate.  So many are in way more vulnerable positions than we are.  In the coming days, when I feel more confident that I am not suffering a mild version of this disease and thus am a liability, I will think through how to be an asset to my local and broader community.

Greetings from ground zero.  Thanks for reading.  I’ll keep you posted.

PS - our Great Dane doesn't understand why mom and dad are home all the time, but who gives a crap?

Stop Sign Farm Kitchen - New Favorites

New favorite kitchen tool - herb scissors!  These ingenious little guys make short work of fresh herbs and come with a handy comb that ensures nothing goes to waste and clean up is fast and easy (BONUS:  No trip to the ER  required).  Found mine for under $10 on Amazon.

New favorite ingredient - fresh garlic!  Ever wonder why we eat garlic cured and dried?  Well, because we have to.  We are so fortunate that garlic cures, dries, and keeps so that we can enjoy its pungent flavor in our food all year long.  But, now - just now and not for long - fresh garlic is out there in the markets and farm stands and I say go get some quick!  It's a little juicy and the little cloves pop out of their skins with a simple squeeze and the bright fresh flavor perks up just about anything.  We roasted it with other spring veggies last night and I threw it in the soup today.  So good.  Get a lot - use some fresh now and hang the rest in your kitchen to dry.

Delicious spring

How fortunate to have our very own market here on the island, where we can get fresh-picked vegetables direct from our neighbors.  Not quite the overwhelming bounty of the Portland Farmers Market where Dylan shops, with its rows and rows of tents overflowing with the colors of the rainbow all year long - but a treasure nonetheless.

This afternoon's spontaneous treat:  cream of celery soup!  Hey, hey - contrary to its reputation as a tasteless stalk of chewy fiber fit only for stock and peanut butter, fresh celery with its glorious leaves left intact packs a flavor punch perfect for a light spring soup.  In my enthusiasm at the market yesterday, my eyes fell upon big broad spiky leaves and my brain said "parsley," but when I was unpacking my bag once home my husband said "celery."  I'd neglected to notice the thick stalks attached to the beckoning leaves!

No worries - we had enough Italian parsley in our own garden to work its magic on our slow-cooked "pot roast" short ribs and fresh island veggies.

But, what to do with bunch of beautiful, leafy celery?  Epicurious helped me out with a simple recipe using just what I had at hand - boiled potatoes from last night, onion, fresh garlic, butter, broth, a little dill and a splash of cream.  30 minutes and a quick blend later - a soul-satisfying, brightly colored and intensely flavorful lunch.

Spring, you are delicious.