No Longer a Vegetarian

I never thought I would ever say that phrase again.  I am now a meat-eater, a true omnivore.  It was tough to come to terms with at first, but I have been fighting cravings for a big juicy burger.  The best burgers near my hometown can be found at the Lions Tap in Shakopee.  On the north shore, you can go to the town of Superior in Wisconsin, to a sailor's bar called The Anchor.  I did cheat once in college, gorging on a double cheeseburger at The Anchor.  Even my two vegan friends gave in to our animal temptations, engaging in carnivorous behavior.  We ate burgers, fries, pop, the works.  Afterwards, full bellies, no regrets.  A little meat among friends never hurt anyone.

Apart from my random cravings for beef, I never really thought seriously about eating meat again.  I had been a vegetarian for almost 15 years.  As a teenager growing up, you dare to be different, to stand out.  This was one of those ways, however, it was also paired with some bad experiences with bad meat (never free-range or organic, which was unheard of in the mid-90's).  Moments that I never wanted to personally repeat.  I had been tormented with random stomach aches, indigestion, missed days of school.  Never knowing why, we just continued on with life.  This has pained me until recently, when noticing that I couldn't digest any food without painful gas, a paleness to my skin, and puffy eyes.  I was basically down to a diet of brown rice, eggs, and sesame seeds.  Doesn't make for an exciting meal day in and day out.

I contacted a homeopathic doctor after trying some unsuccessful, personal remedies.  A hair sample was sent along with health history.  She immediately told me that I need to eat meat, up to 6 times per week, and mostly red meat.    Not only did I have to eat meat again, but red meat, and a lot of it!  The first kind of flesh I gave up in my "dare to be different" phase.  I was also told that I am an emotional sponge, allowing all sorts of emotions to invade my mind, while not having the tools to adequately disperse them back out.  These emotions were stored up in my gut, definitely contributing to my digestive woes.  But, that is another issue for another day.

Okay, so how do we do this?  I didn't think I could do a steak, not right away at least.  So, ground hamburger it is.  Tacos. Done.  First red meat meal in 15 years (besides cheating episode previously mentioned).  It was so delicious, and I was so starved of animal protein, that I ate way more than Joseph did.  Since I am an O blood type, I am only able to absorb about 10-15% of the protein available in nuts, vegetables, and grains.  I was literally starved of protein and it showed.  Animal protein is absorbed into my body at the rate of 60-75%.  I was placed on a series of digestive aids, increasing stomach acid, decreasing body pH and adding digestive "trainers" so that I could process meat again.  I have genetic sensitivities to wheat and alcohol, so stay away from those things also.  Alcohol not so hard, but wheat, it's in everything.  Okay, so back to meat and potatoes diet.  Back to my roots.  

According to the Eat Right For Your Blood Type diet, I should be a meat and potatoes kind of gal.  I am a type O- blood type.  Blood Type O has roots in the nomadic hunters, being the oldest blood type in existence.  We (meaning type O's - my ancestors) didn't ever stay in one place as their food was always on the move.  Grains were consumed on a rare occasion.  Wow, what a change from the previous years of my life.  I highly recommend the book, as I have been enlightened.  It makes sense and I have felt the difference even after one week.  

Every week you hear about a new fad diet to lose weight.  Well, what about eating for your blood type?  All these diets are based on different blood types, but this is not a common factor to be tested for and used to your benefit.  Why is that?  It's too easy.  I hope more people find this out.  Our country is obese, our children are expected to have a shorter life span their parents.  We cannot allow this to happen.  

I hope that this country wakes up from this slumber revitalized and ready to focus on real problems like the health of our people and our environment.  One day.....

Farming and the Economic Crisis

"We live off of what comes out of the soil, not what's in the bank. If we squander the ecological capital of the soil, the capital on paper won't much matter... For the past 50 or 60 years, we have followed industrialized agricultural policies that have increased the rate of destruction of productive farmland. For those 50 or 60 years, we have let ourselves believe the absurd notion that as long as we have money we will have food. If we continue our offenses against the land and the labor by which we are fed, the food supply will decline, and we will have a problem far more complex than the failure of our paper economy. Remember, if our agriculture is not sustainable then our food supply is not sustainable... Either we pay attention or we pay a huge price, not so far down the road. When we face the fact that civilizations have destroyed themselves by destroying their farmland, it's clear that we don't really have a choice."

Source: Wes Jackson, co-founder of The Land Institute, in an interview with Alternet -- Read the Full Interview

Lessons in Gratitude

As we all know, the year 2008 has been a bumpy ride.  Outside of our bubble, only the TV or newspaper reminding of its tumultuous upheavals, the evidence is clear that the world is ready for a change.  

As fall creeps into winter (for some this has come sooner than they would have liked), living things become hibernating things, including humans.  We hole ourselves up in a warm place, ready to cozy up next to a roaring fire, a blanket, a good book, and hot chocolate in hand.  In North Carolina, we are fortunate enough to have a quick, easy winter, although this is all relative.  Natives to this state complain as much as people did back home in Minnesota.  The wind frigid, bringing temperatures below freezing in NC.  This would be considered a warm spring day, the first signs of thaw, in Minnesota.  With temps closer to 40 degrees, you would see teenage kids, defiant against their parents, wearing t-shirts, sometimes shorts, even flip-flops.  So daring, but it does feel tropical when you have had 6 months of temps at our below 10 degrees above zero.   I am grateful for the change in seasons, bringing fresh, reborn life to the surface every year.  

Here in North Carolina, I always have to chuckle when schools and businesses are cancelled due to the measly inch of snow received the night prior.  But, I think the state only owns a few snowplows, sand spreaders and clearing machines.  We have it relatively easy here, and I think that is why we stay.  College, or for that matter, 16 years of schooling, has exhausted us.  We enjoy the easy life, but I have the itch to do something greater.  I am grateful for what I have been given, the chance to go to college and study something that I absolutely love: soil.  The basis for all living things on this earth.

I hope to take my GRE and go on to get my masters.  Money is always the forefront of my mind when contemplating when, where, and how I will accomplish this goal.  A masters degree opens doors, especially for a female in the science field.  I see them open, and desperately want to pass through.  I am grateful for the option to further my education, no barriers holding me back.

Joseph is starting to become a bit of a celebrity here at the pottery during the openings.  It is very encouraging.  We should stay in North Carolina in order to take advantage of the hype around his art.  Where, we have no idea.  Maybe somewhere closer to the mountains.  I am grateful for the opportunity to have the choice on where we will love and start a family.

My boss passed away one week before Christmas.  He was diagnosed with lung cancer only a month previous, never having smoked in his life.  It was tragic, nobody having the time or energy to really mourn and say goodbye.  I still wait to hear his footsteps coming down the hall, charging in our doorway, asking "Who wants to go on a one-way?"  Meaning, who wants to walk up to his parked car 2 miles away at one of the local restaurants, the General Store.  They had sweet tea; he always got a chicken caesar salad and a tea, half sweet and half un-sweet.  The walk was always wonderful, getting our blood pumping, moving tense joints created from a stressful accounting day.  The conversation was always joyful, full of anecdotes and the latest gossip from the town or from the New York Times.  He was generous, never wanting more money, but more lasting, strong friendships.  He had one with me.  Mark Estill will be greatly missed.  I am grateful for a healthy body, so young and strong.  Please let me nurture it so that I may wear my days out on this earth, satisfied with my accomplishments from the day. 

We had the opportunity to travel home over the Christmas break.  It was cold, but we acclimated quickly to the below zero temperatures.  We saw close family and extended family, old and young.  We saw our family dog, Bailey, old, deaf, and blind, but still as cuddly as ever.  I wasn't ready to leave.  Seven days fly by, especially when you are traveling across half the state to see people you love.  I am grateful for the opportunity to be able to travel home, as plane flights increase in cost every year.  My family and Joseph's family are both incredible; I am so incredibly lucky, and grateful.

Sights and Sounds of a Typical Day for Amanda

My day starts in the middle of the night, waking up to the sound of Joseph snorting a bit in his sleep.

Morning arrives, with the serenade of a male Cardinal (seriously, he is at our window every morning).

Fill the kettle with water (from our well via the sink).  Grind coffee beans and fill the coffee pot (ceramic, which should come as no surprise).  Kettle does not whistle, but does sound like an on-coming freight train, a multi-toned alarm to alert you that your water is, indeed, at 100 degrees celsius.

Joseph turns the TV on, to the only station he will watch in the morning - Good Morning America.  Watch the local morning news and then national news.  Eat breakfast - for myself, I usually have old fashioned oatmeal.  We don't have a microwave so everything relies on our gas stove.  Add maple syrup and some walnuts.

Change and out the door (both of us) by 8:30am.  We're very fortunate to have employers that don't make us start work too early.  Just as long as the work gets done.

I watch Joseph walk to work, only 100 yards from our humble cabin.  Sometimes in envy, most times a feeling of gratitude.

Our cabin faces the back of a barn, which houses the finished pottery on display.  We also see the Hewitt's Kubota tractor parked, in what I could consider, our "front yard," but nothing is ever "ours" when you're renting.  Walking past the barn, the two large kilns come into view, the Hewitt house, and the pottery.  Sometimes, I see Mark outside taking out boards of recently thrown, now drying, bowls and mugs.  In the walking path from the barn to the "parking lot" where I leave my vehicle, there are enormous pots the size and weight of an average man.  Stunning pieces of art, reflecting the morning light, dew collecting in their scratched-in designs.  What a fortunate bunch, we are.  

90% of the time I drive my car to work, only 2.5 miles away.  If I get the chance and it's not cold, rainy, or dark (and I don't have to haul worm food from the local restaurant), I get to ride bike.  The car creaks and cranks, jars and sighs, like the ancient whale that would rather rest on the surface, the ebb and flow all-inclusive.

Drive to the Industrial plant to pick up paperwork and check on my worm composting operation.  The little buggers look happy, delightfully eating their way in and out of the food that I sent through my "worm smoothie machine" the previous evening.  This time of year, the majority of the food are the edible greens like chard, kale, or collards.  This summer I had a lot of tomatoes.  At the Industrial plant, I encounter many things, most of which have become everyday life for me:  a large, 18-wheel tanker pulling in with a load of feedstock (aka chicken fat) to make the next 1.5 days worth of fuel, brightly colored doors invite you into each building, greenhouses and an organic farm hug the perimeters of the visible landscape, a bee hive, dogs playing in the grass, a grove of banana plants, a larger-than-life chess set, the smell of biodiesel as an employee drives past you in their Mercedes or Volkswagon.  Again, not sights, sounds, or smells that 99.9% of the world will encounter, but have somehow become typical to me.

The day includes a lot of sitting at a computer, crunching numbers, pushing papers.  Some phone calls, "We need to follow up on an outstanding invoice," I can't wait to let go of the jargon and live outside the world of admin.  Occasionally, I get to sell some worms, demo some worms, or just play with some worms while it is still daylight.  As long as my hands get to touch soil once per day, I am content, but never satisfied.  It is not enough to justify five years of college, but it is enough for one day in the life that is me.