One Meal a Week Challenge

Now that Farmer's Market season is starting around here, I have been trying to find farmer's markets in my areas. I have found a few that claim to be farmer's markets in my direct area, but sell mainly California or other imported food stuffs. Because of the summer followed by winter weather we had in March/April, a lot of fruit growers in the area suffered--and according to a local article, fruit is where the moneys at. So, call in California. This isn't to say they won't carry ANY local food, just not very much.

There are some fairly decent farmer's markets in my extended area. And by extended I mean upwards 30+ miles away from me and nasty construction and traffic on the way. As I'm not much of a driver, especially a city driver, I like to avoid those areas if possible. I know that radius still means it's local food, and likely food from closer to my apartment than it is to the city, but nevertheless I'm not to the point where I'm willing to make that drive at least once a week. (Yet, anyway).

I found a possible Farmer's Market a little bit closer, so R. and I are going to go check it out on Saturday morning. And, I'm like a little kid ready for a trip to Florida. I keep reminding R. we're going, lest he forget. And, currently, it looks to be the highlight of my week.

I have been reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, as I mentioned earlier. There are a lot of statistics included, and typically I distrust statistics because it's so easy to manipulate a number, or to conduct research in a way that makes whatever you have to say seem authoritative or to find statistics to back up ANY opinion under the sun. But, I found this statistic particular interesting, even if it's only partially true. "If every U.S citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we could reduce our country's oil consumption by over 1.1 million barrels of oil every week."

That's a lot of people doing one small thing and making a big difference, no matter how you look at it. I'm not at a point in my life where I think I can make a drastic change like living a month on local goods or even a week. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to go totally local--partially because I am a very picky eater and partially because I am notoriously lazy. But, I feel one meal a week is COMPLETELY doable. And it could lead to two meals a week--a meal a day--and on and on until maybe my diet is mainly composed of local.

Now is the perfect time to start this challenge. Farmer's Markets are opening up everywhere and the summer bounty will soon be upon us (I had my first tomato flower pop up on Sunday!). If we're not really eating locally at all, why not try just one meal a week. It could be something as easy as 2 locally laid eggs and perhaps a piece of locally grown fruit for breakfast.

My success will depend on what we find at the Farmer's Market on Saturday and my ability to convince R. to try this little experiment with me (and continue to return to the Farmer's Market). (I promised to do a few things for him if he promised to read the book when I am finished with it).

If there's anyone out there still not integrating local foods into their diet, I think this would be an excellent first step.

The History Dork Within

In order to get to many places (my job, my parents house, etc), I have to cross part of the Missouri River. I've mentioned before my fear of bridges, which is especially heightened on this particular bridge for some reason. I guess the narrow lanes or some such. Nevertheless, I feel a little less nervous when someone else is driving and I can look out onto the river.

The other night, R. and I were heading to my sister's softball game. The night was very humid and foggy. As I looked out onto the darkening Missouri River, I got this flash of what it must have felt like before these bridges and buildings. The dark fog of an early summer night. The uncomfortable humidity and irritating bugs. In my mind I could visualize the Lewis and Clark Expedition camping, sailing, doing the things they did back in this time when very little of our world existed.

This happens to me in certain places--my history studies + imagination on overload I suppose. Not many in my family/friend circle enjoy history the way I do, so it's an odd, inner way of enjoying what I know of history...and wondering what it must have been like to live so long ago.

In other news, I bought Barbara Kingsolver's new book "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle." I am so excited! And, as a warning, it's bound to inspire many political, food growing and philosophical type posts. Be prepared.

=)

Pink Lady Slipper

I'm sure I've mentioned (oh, about eleventy-million times) that as a young girl I spent many a spring and summer week at my Grandma's house in the Iowa woodlands. Regardless of the season, we would often walk the woods and creek, but in the spring wildflowers were our first priority.

There were certain flowers that were the old standby (Spring Beauties, Sweet William, Dutchman's Brithces). Certain flowers that only grew in one area (Virginia Bluebells, Buttercups) and some that we rarely or never found.

My Grandma often talked about Lady Slippers--both yellow and pink. We'd search for either, and never found either while we together. I believe she once found a yellow Lady Slipper when I wasn't there, but the Pink Lady Slipper was somewhat our Holy Grail so to speak--something we searched for and never found.

I'd never seen one before last weekend. On our fated Bear-Poop hike I saw what had elluded me for so many years. Something I'd very nearly forgotten about--until I saw a clump of these pink beauties at the edge of a trail deep in the Smoky Mountains.



Just as normal as could be, their pink little heads stood there at the side of the trail as my breath caught in my throat. I couldn't help but look up at the sky through the trees and feel my Grandma hiking along with me. Surely she saw it too.

Poop

Probably the most related tale of our Smoky Mountain trip revolves around these 2 pictures:





The first is a tree limb that had fallen over the trail and looked suspiciously as if it had been scratched up by a bear. The trail was off a gravel, one-way, mountain road that only had one other car on it that we saw the entire 14 miles. R. was a little concerned by this, but it didn't bother me overmuch. We continued to walk along this trail a ways and then saw the second picture. Luckily, we had been at the visitor's center not too long before and had seen a replica of Bear scat. This had exactly the same look. R. was ready to throw in the towel, but I waved it off. It was just some poop after all.

We went another 1/4 of a mile or so and discovered another lump of scat--also right on the trail. This time I agreed with R.--time to head back. We didn't see any bears, but neither of us wanted to chance it. We'd rather see a bear from the confines of our own car.

And, that we did, the next day. Cade's Cove is a driving loop in the Smokies that is fairly popular. We were trying to get out, stuck in some nasty traffic, before we saw two park rangers by the road, directing traffic. We thought maybe some kind of fender bender, but as we passed we saw 3 black bears in the clearing right off the road. I tried to take a picture, but as the park rangers were waving us on (and we didn't think to stop for a second to disobey them) I never did get a shot of them.

Still, it was neat to see them (from afar)! I couldn't help but wonder if they felt a bit like a circus sideshow with all the people gawking from their cars.

Still Expecting Mountains

I really love the mountains. This is a problem being a lifelong midwesterner who will probably stay a lifelong midwesterner, but I love the midwest too, so I suppose it all works out. It's just, I keep thinking I'm going to look at the horizon and see mountains, but I just see flat-flat-flat.

We got back yesterday, tired and sore. We hiked only about 11 or 12 miles worth of trails, but were on our feet or in the car the whole time. The only time we were in our hotel was to shower and sleep. So, all in all, a successful trip.

We've decided that a return trip to Gatlinburg isn't very likely. We'd already done most of the museums (which, most, are very neat) on our first trip, so we were disappointed with the less than steller options on this trip. We love the Smokies, but Gatlinburg is too busy, cigarette smoky, and has a certain element of unpleasant people (which we found on this trip, not the one before). So hopefully we'll make it back to the park and bypass Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge altogether.

I'll have a more detailed post of our drive and hikes throughout the week. Right now I am stuffed full of BBQ and still a bit exhausted from the trip. But, I'll leave you with some pictures. =)

Impromptu Vacation

Well, kind of at the last minute, R. decided to take Thursday off and we are heading down to Gatlinburg, Tennessee tomorrow through Sunday. We have been there once before back in October of 2005. We're staying in the same place (a great little place outside of Gatlinburg in the midst of the mountains with rooms that are basically condos), but have different things on our itinerary from last visit.

We loved it there, because there's so much to do. Basically, our plan last time was to hike by day, walk around Gatlinburg by night. It worked out well, though by the end of each day my legs were killing me.

Our plan is virtually the same this time, but we are going to try for some lesser visited areas within the park. And, since we only have a few days, we'll be spending most of our time enjoying the Smokies rather than the museums and entertainment of Gatlinburg (though last time we were surprised at the entertainment value of some of those). I am determined to see sunset and sunrise in the park, so there are definitely some long days ahead of us.

I'm hoping my legs hold out this time.

Anywhoo, I'll be back Sunday/Monday with lots of pictures, hopefully, and lots of fun to relate.

Two Worlds

I have always been fascinated by sunsets--the blaze of color, cloud, sky. The intricate flames of day slowly fading into night.

One of my favorite parts of the sunset is towards the end, when half of the world is accepting night--dark, with stars and moon, and the other half still holds onto the day. The sun gone, but light still shining, the colors of the sunset beautifully pale and subtle--colors I would never be able to catch on film... just bare tints of orange and pink. I love that groves of trees look dark, but the sky behind them is glowing.

I feel magic as this dusk approaches--traveling through two worlds: night and day.

Sometimes it is the simplest pleasures that procure the deepest reaction.

Strawberries!

Thursday R. and I both had the day off and R. heard that a farm about 45 miles away was having a pick your own strawberry deal. The same farm had apples back in the fall that we went and picked a gajillion of, so we decided to head out to pick strawberries.



It was an absolutely beautiful and perfect day weather wise. Low 70's, blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds. It could not have been more perfect. We ended up picking 12 pounds of strawberries!! I kept telling R. to stop, but he was obsessed. So we gave 1/2 to R.'s family and some to mine as well.





It was a fun outing and the strawberries are absolutely delicious. I've been eating strawberries as snacks, deserts, drizzled in melted chocolate. There's no white middle--it's all deliciously red. I learned that nothing tastes as good as a strawberry warmed by the sun. DELICIOUS.

I'm Back, For Good

I didn't expect the last few weeks to be so crazy, but maybe I should have. With the end of school, my sister graduating college, visitors and project upon project, I've been running around like crazy trying to get everything accomplished and in order. Thus, no brain or time for posting.

Well, school is over until the fall (when I'll be student teaching). And I have a few weeks before my job goes to full time. So, I'm hoping I can get a lot accomplished and organized for the upcoming summer rather than wasting my time away... like I usually do with a break in schedule.

All of my grand plans for a more eco-friendly life have, admitedly, gone by the wayside in the time being. I've been thinking more about making enough money this summer to support myself while I student teach in the fall than about how I can stop using ziploc bags or eat organic and locally produced food. I want to get back into the mindset where I'm trying to be a more responsible consumer--both in the sense of buying and eating.

Luckily, some REAL farmer's markets should be opening up around the area soon. In fact, tomorrow R. and I are going to go to a pick your own farm and pick some strawberries. Some storms rolled in last night leaving the next few days in the low seventies--rather than the mid-high eighties we were having. So, it will hopefully be a lovely day.

My vegetables are doing fairly well. I'm at the point where I am getting impatient...which is why I'm not the best gardener in the world. I don't need results immediately, but waiting a handful of months drives me a little crazy. Especially since this is my first attempt, they are in containers, and they don't get quite as much sun as they probably should. I just want to know that some are going to produce.

So, anyway, enough of my ramblings. I should be back to posting fairly regularly and hopefully more interestingly!

Farmer's Market Travesty

So, I've mentioned a few times that there was a farmer's market getting ready to open fairly close to my apartment. I've been excited, eagerly looking for new signs as I drove by.

It opened May 1st, so R. and I headed over yesterday to see what they had. Obviously, it's still really early for most fresh produce, but I was still... optimistic.

We walk in and there's a stand of bags of chips. At first, I think they must be organic chips or something... but nope, regular old Tostidos and Lays. Huh. Then there's a display of soda. Okay.

I quickly move to the produce with a sinking feeling. There's displays of mangoes, plums, pears... all things that I know can't be Fresh or Local. I begin to read tags: Product of California, Georgia, MEXICO. The signs say "Fresh" and "Delisious" (spelled with an s, yes). But, THESE ARE NOT FRESH--THEY HAVE BEEN SHIPPED FROM MEXICO.

Needless to say I was angry. Angry because I got my hopes up, but also because the place claims to be a "FARMER'S market" and... I guess maybe the produce came from a farm SOMEWHERE, but I don't think the farmer is reaping the rewards of a sale. And the signs say FRESH--something from Mexico CAN'T BE FRESH.

But, the saddest part is, I don't think the owners are trying to trick people. They just don't think about it. Food is food is food. It's fresh if it looks ripe, but they're not really thinking about the trip it took that Mango to get here from Mexico. They're thinking, hey let's put a cute little market right here. Let's sell produce. Cool.

So, I'm disappointed and irritated that they're calling themselves a farmer's market. R. thinks it's a mob front, but being a police officer shifts his paranoia into overdrive =)

Looks like I'll be searching out somewhere else to get my local produce this summer. I just hope I can find somewhere not too far out of my way.