The dissenters, the academics and the pirates

Well the garden is finally slowing down a bit and now I rather regret wishing death upon the zucchini plants. The tomatoes are finally ripening and what is not infested with blossom end rot is being used dutifully in virtually every dinner. Thankfully, this year we have enough surplus to make pasta sauce which has made PP happy. Apparently the fact that everybody has had tomato problems this year isn't any reason to feel better. I made some more zucchini bread today and I think that will probably be the last of the season. This weekend's plans involve a batch of zucchini mustard pickle to keep in the store as we are getting a bit low on that (funny, it seems to be the only thing we are low on!!).

The constant baking, stewing, picking, gardening etc has got me thinking about how much commitment it takes and what kinds of things make it easier.  I have come to the conclusion that support is the most important factor in giving you the will to get through yet another batch of chutney.

Being in an academic environment I automatically (and as it turns out, naively)  assumed that what I have been doing would be generally well thought of in our little community. How wrong I was. It is no secret that academics are nuts. I was just having this conversation with another fellow phd-er  yesterday. We concluded that 90% of the academics, and students, in our department were completely bonkers. And we aren't talking the same kind of insanity, one that you could build up some sort of standard arsenal against. Academics like to mix it up a little and god forbid if any one of them was deemed batty in the same kind of way as their arch nemesis across the hallway. They like to keep you on your toes. But I'm deviating. What I didn't expect was how, well, backward, academics, at least in my field, seem to be.

Whilst only my close friends know of what PP and I aspire to do, I have often thought about voicing my opinions at one of the weekly lunches held by my department. I'm glad I haven't. Let me take you back to a simpler time, a time when I didn't realise that sometimes, academia is completely nonsensical, irrational and dare I say it, Machiavellian. I was sitting in the tea room when colleagues of mine began discussing the environmental arm of our university. Up for discussion: their policy's impacts on departmental conferences, experimentation etc. What happened shocked me. In a room of well-educated, intelligent individuals, a tirade against the environmental arm was let out. And the main point? My work, my experiment, my whatever - is more important than these policies designed to protect our natural environment. I guess I should not have been surprised. Almost 10 years at university has taught me that academia is nothing if not insular, but I thought this, of all the places to work, would be a place where such ideas would be welcomed. Granted, I do not come from a science faculty and perhaps if that were so, the reactions might have been different. But they weren't. So for now, I'm glad I kept my mouth shut, lest they think I will try to convince them all to drink from the wheat grass kool-aid.

Amongst my own friends, both academic and non, the reaction to our beliefs and our dreams has generally been accepted and supported. Even those to whom the idea of moving to some rural area and spending weekends and evenings traipsing through a vegie patch and mucking out chicken coops seems like a waking nightmare, have voiced their support. They realise that ultimately, this is going to make us happy.

There have been one or two dissenters though. Which I always expected. Nobody is always going to agree with you and there will always be those who believe that they are right and you are wrong. And that's ok. The most notable of those likened our decision to live a sustainable lifestyle and have a market garden as to their choice to "become a pirate." There is a lot I can say about that including:

1. Piracy is illegal

2. I'm sure piracy is a socially acceptable career path in some countries

3.  I don't intend on buying a parrot or sporting a wooden leg

4. Who do you think grows your food? Robotic Winged Monkeys?

But ultimately, all I could really do was laugh about it, and gleefully imagine them in my head as a pirate. And whilst I know that this comes from a place of concern, I believe it is more about what people think we SHOULD be doing, rather than what is best for us as a couple and what we WANT to be doing. Unfortunately, this kind of attitude does not seem rare. Going against the grain is not easy. Stepping outside your comfort zone, and, it would seem more drastically, outside of those around you can have repercussions that you would never have thought of.  Luckily for me, PP is as supportive as ever, I have many amazing friends and family members who believe in us, and finally - we are convinced that what we are trying to do is the right thing to do.

Survivalist consumerism: Building resilience vs buying resilience

And the guest blogger is....PP!!! Ok, not really so much a guest (more like badgered  until he agreed to write something). I'm pretty psyched to have him write something though, he is far more eloquent about the issues that we face in the coming years:

Garden Carp has mentioned a few times that we’re both concerned about peak oil, climate change and other systemic environmental crises that our society will be facing in the coming decades (barring some sort of miracle, which I’m not holding my breath for). We’re both very committed to facing the challenges mentioned, and an important part of that is trying build up our resilience. By resilience, I mean that we are trying to increase our capacity to adapt to and mitigate (if not overcome) the challenges that are facing our society. This means reducing our environmental footprint and reliance on diminishing energy sources (before we are forced to by circumstance) and trying to support individuals, communities and companies that share the same goals. By doing so, we aim to build not only our own resilience but also that of our communities, cities and countries.

On an individual level, our largest goal is that we want to buy a house (and get it paid off as quickly as possible). With home ownership comes a degree of security that you just can’t get by renting, especially in Australia. Moreover, many things we want to pursue require long term investments. Often it feels like there is no point in spending huge amounts of time, effort (and let’s face it, quite a bit of money) building soil fertility in the garden, trying to make your home more energy efficient and loading up with all sorts so gear for those home projects (whether it’s home brewing kit or a honey extractor) if you have to keep moving around to suit the whims of your landlords.

As a consequence, we are saving as hard as we can to be able to afford a house, but it’s still a while away. In the meantime, I have to resist the tendency to just write the above things off as too hard, or not worth doing until we buy. It’s easy to think about all the things we’d love to do in the future once we do own a house and dream about how perfect our lives will be once that has been accomplished. But if we don’t start trying to build these skills and knowledge now, while we have the money and opportunity to do so then the dream could remain just that. If we put everything off until we own a place we would be falling into the trap that is hardwired into most people of our generation – that life will be perfect once we’ve purchased just one more thing.

It’s not hard to spot this sort of ‘doomer’ consumerism popping up all over sites relating to peak oil and climate change. ‘Everything will be ok once you’ve got your hybrid car/solar passive house/stock of dehrydrated food’. Frankly, it’s an easy attitude to fall into. Let’s face it, most of the people who are concerned about these issues are not (yet) living on the poverty line. We’re middle class, educated, and at least reasonably affluent. It is hard to break the habit of a lifetime of consumerism. But more important than simple consumerism is the overarching assumption of our culture – that we can remedy any failures and inadequacies we may have as humans with the acquisition of material goods. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past, how much your own actions and choices have impacted on the planet or on others, or how you’ve allowed your own physical and mental potential to atrophy for the sake of convenience, as long as you buy our products (whatever they happen to be) now. It’s the 21^st century equivalent of buying indulgences.

Ultimately, this is the temptation we have to resist. You can’t purchase resiliency. Money certainly helps, but without the skills and physical and psychological preparedness, it’s not much use. There’s no better way to prepare for possibly being unemployed than learning to be frugal now. If the price of oil spikes, it’s a lot easier to take up cycling if you’re already in good shape. In short, use the time you have to practice and develop these skills before you have to rely on them.

So, as Garden Carp said, we’re left with just trying as hard as we can. Trying to save money for the future, and make the most of time and opportunities that we have in the present.

- PP

Preserving: The good, the bad and the explosive

On the urgings of a very old friend I am getting my act together and writing this post! There's alot more incentive now I know its not just my sister and PP reading this...and PP only does it because I make him.

So I am in the full swing of preserving season and its a good thing I love cooking, because I've been doing an awful lot of it. I wouldn't say I'm over it yet but if I didn't have to cook another chutney for the next twelve months I'd be pretty happy.

Whilst PP is lamenting the apparent lack of produce compared to last year (personally I think he is denial) I am attempting to come up with ingenious ways to use vegetables. There is only so many ways I enjoy zucchini, and eating them every day all day is not one of them. PP and I's relationship is generally symbiotic, he plants the stuff, I eat it. Oh and cook it. (Although as I write this, he is the one in the kitchen, frypan in hand, attempting to boil 15 cobs of corn into submission). But for me, keeping up with the garden is almost a part time job in itself.

When I started the process of making and preserving it was a total breeze and I wondered what on earth people were doing buying their own mustard pickle. But you have to be pretty dedicated to it. As I said, lucky I like cooking.

In the garden at the moment we have a glut of corn which has now been completely harvested, zucchini, cucmbers and spinach. There are some carrots, rocket and bean but not so much we are overwhelmed with those. To be honest, whilst PP is depressed over our lacklustre tomato season, I see it as a bit or a miracle. God forbid I would have to deal with those too.

Since December last year, excepting when we go to a party and need to take some offering (and in those cases it is only to the people who think bringing homemade baked goods is an affront to their materialinity - and yes, I did just make that up) nothing that I can make myself has been bought. Breads, cookies, crackers, icecream. You name it (virtually). Im starting to now move into cheese as well (ricotta and my somwehat dubious attempt at mozarella) and am hoping to get into hard cheeses over winter.

This week has been particularly busy and trying to balance the PhD and the cooking has been a struggle, with the cooking mostly winning out. I like to blame my rubbish laptop but really, I just like having a scapegoat. Tuesday was spent at home making bread and butter cucumbers, chinese plum sauce, onion marmalade, zucchini and chocolate cake (fed to PP's oblivious brother who hates zucchini) and spelt sourdough. Yesterday I had a somehwat disastrous attempt at plum jam, rhubarb and vanilla jam and zucchini, raisin and walnut bread. I let Hanson distract me and the jam boiled over, temporarily dyeing my stove a bright pink colour, followed by many MANY expletives. As you can see, zucchinis are my #1 enemy at the moment. Tomorrow its looking like more bread and butter cucumbers, river cottage chutney (thank god for Hugh) and something else with plums - possibly sorbet.

We had our second ever produce swap this week. Vegies for more plums than I know what to do with. I was feeling quite proud and environmental until I realised I needed to buy new jars to accomodate said plums. I wish we could swap more but unfortunately we don't know many other gardeners and the others in our community garden aren't exactly the friendliest or the most environmental sort (surprisingly).

The plum and rhubarb jams I have made specifically for presents this year. SO apologies to all out there who may receive some unwanted jam this year. Feel free to re-gift. I've grown pretty tired not only of giving some clearly unwanted gifts, but also receiving things that just go under the bed until we think its safe to ditch them. Most of all, I would rather people saved their money. We've tried to institute this for family events with some limited success. Of course, I still do like buying things for people I know will appreciate them, but I am hoping this homemade thing might catch on - I'm envisioning hampers of jam, scones and homemade butter - finding the time is one thing, convincing everyone its an awesome idea is another.

Well, its back to the kitchen for me I guess. I do love all our amazing produce (and the fact we have only bought tomatoes for three months), but I am half-heartedly praying for a tornado to destroy the zucchini. Just the zucchini. Please.

Plum Jam, Rhubarb and Vanilla Jam and Zucchini Bread

Protest in a vegie patch: from city-dweller to rural squatter Or, how I learned to stop worrying and love the agrarian kitchen

Firstly – welcome to the new year everyone!! Apologies for leaving it so long between blog posts (never again I promise!) Never fear – we have been working hard towards the good life and I have lots to tell you that I will hopefully blog about in the next few weeks! So don’t abandon me just yet! (Especially the three people who are members, don’t forget I know where you live) ;)

PP (my patient partner) and I recently went to Hobart for a break over New Years. I was desperate to go to the Taste Festival and attending this was my main reason for choosing to go to Hobart. Actually, I’ll be honest, it was my only reason. That, and I love Tasmania. Obsessed some might say. Others might say I’m just awesome. I’m not one to argue with that kind of logic.

What it did was absolutely and unequivocally reaffirm for both of us what we want to be doing. We tasted lots of amazing produce, listened to some great speakers and met lots of like-minded people.

I was listening to a speaker from the Agrarian Kitchen and realised something – hey, this guy has stolen my life! I was keen for a bit of an Oprah moment – I clearly envisaged myself jumping on stage, grabbing the microphone from the unwitting presenter and throwing his micro-herbs at passers by (or is that a Tom Cruise moment???). Luckily for all involved, PP wasn’t particularly keen on that idea, and my grand plan to storm the agrarian kitchen and set up camp in the vegie patch was scuppered.

But it got me thinking – of course, he hasn’t stolen my life. What he, and so many other people I heard talking – from cheesemakers to brewers – are doing, is living their best lives (Oprah reference No. 2). Sure, they are all doing it for different reasons. Mostly for these amazing producers, it’s a passion for food, for knowing where it comes from and bringing your children up to appreciate eating and food in a way most kids are pretty disconnected from (eggs come from chickens??)

Listening to them talk I realised how important it is that we get out there and start living our best lives. And whilst skulking around the cheese room of the Bruny Island Cheese Company, hoping to be given a job, might have to be for now, put on the backburner, there are so many things that we can start changing right now. We don’t need our own home, lots of money or even lots of time. Just some patience, dedication and passion for what we are doing!!

Stay tuned for my recent adventures in cookery (10 things that don’t blow up in my kitchen) in my efforts to make all our food from scratch, my views on stockpiling and the importance of community and support networks, and why I am obsessed with Tasmania (all your questions answered!). Plus a special guest blogger!

P.S. Nick Haddow – please give me a job.