I completely geeked out today. We spent the day in Unity, ME at the 39th annual Common Ground Country Fair, surrounded by like-minded individuals, giving freely of their spirit and their knowledge. There was so very much to absorb and take in that we found ourselves just wandering and looking, but not once did I feel out of place or uncomfortable. Just a little overwhelmed. I’m having trouble putting it all into words, so I’m hoping the few pictures I took will be kind enough to speak for me.

We got up early, and made it to the fairgrounds just after the gates opened at nine, but the parking lots were already busy. It was peaceful and gorgeous along the wooded path, and everyone was friendly. It was like being in hippie heaven. Composting outhouses, recycling and composting stations, water stations for refilling your reusable bottles. Face painting and hula hooping. Impromptu jam sessions, and more babywearing than I’ve ever seen in one place. We met cows, goats and chickens. We slid down the hill on cardboard and watched a scythe sharpening demonstration. We saw a team of horses harvest corn, and ran into a little four-year-old friend from here in Mount Vernon who called out to Swee and came running over (that felt good).

I got myself all worked up, hoping to meet Amanda at the Taproot tent, and in the end it was for naught because she wasn’t there today, but I finally became a subscriber, and had a nice little chat with the woman who was working. She was sweet, and gave each of my littles a sticker. I was too flustered to ask her name, unfortunately.

I came home with a beautiful hand-carved wooden spoon, a Taproot travel jar that is now filled with tea, and so much excitement for next year. And good lord, I cannot wait to get my chickens.

Tomorrow, we’re embarking on an adventure that I have been anticipating for nearly eight years. We’re going to The Fair. I can’t wait to share our day! Lots to pack and coordinate this evening, however. A day-long outing with two strong-willed toddlers requires careful orchestration. Though I can’t really place all the blame on them. These outings require careful planning for mama to enjoy herself, too.

So tonight I leave you with pizza. Fresh, organic, whole wheat dough, homemade pesto from home grown basil, a thick layer of cheese. The two girls and I devoured the entire pie. I anticipate similar appetites tomorrow evening!

I got to spend much of my day in the kitchen, and yes, it really is a privilege. The stars seemed to align, however briefly, and our littles were content to share popcorn and football with Daddy. I was free to putter around and periodically fill Beansie’s requests for “more,” delivered to me over the baby gate, usually punctuated by raised eyebrows and a furiously bobbing head.

The tomatoes are slowing down. The girls and I have been eating most of them straight off the vine but I was able to fill a small bucket with the yellow cherries this morning, and picked five or six larger fruits to bring in. I didn’t have enough to make any sort of sauce, so decided to follow this guide to roasting and freezing, on a smaller scale. I’m sure it will be nice to have them when there is six feet of snow outside our door.

I also added three large containers of vegetable stock to the freezer. I’ve mentioned before my aversion to food waste, and veggie scraps are no exception. When I prepare our meals, any trimmings go into a gallon zipper bag in the freezer. You can see the pods from peas, the ends off of fresh green beans, bell pepper tops, bits of onion and celery, even slices of zucchini. When the bag is full, I toss in a couple of whole peppercorns and set it to boil on the back burner. It simmers down to a rich dark broth. This gets strained and poured into clean yogurt containers (reuse!), and stashed in the back of the freezer for soups and other recipes. I do the same with ham bones and whole chicken carcasses (isn’t that a dreadfully disgusting word?). They get picked clean and popped into the freezer until I have the chance to deal with them.

Making veggie stock this way doubles your food investment. You can take it a step further by composting the scraps when the stock is drained off. I tossed mine out in the weeds rather than into the trashcan. I’m betting that backyard chickens would also enjoy the leftovers, in which case you’ve tripled your money by saving on traditional feed – has anybody tried that? I cannot wait to put that last theory to the test myself!

Swee and I made pesto on Friday, and baked muffins this morning. We added another jar of pickles to the fridge, and there’s a bunch of kale on the counter to be made into chips. I’ve got a good old-fashioned casserole planned for dinner. Can you tell I’m feeling ready for the cooler temperatures?

How do I start to live a simple life? I can’t tell you that, no one can. This way of life doesn’t follow a formula, that’s one of the beauties of it.

I’ve been reading about Rhonda and Hanno’s simple life at her blog Down to Earth for a long time, and when her book of the same name was finally available here in the states, I scooped it up on my Kindle. It reads like a conversation with an old friend, and she shares a lot of great tips for small ways to make big changes in your life. If you’ve been thinking about living more intentionally, this might be a good, easy read to get you started.

It’s difficult for me to identify the turning point in our lifestyle. Our move to Maine was the first large-scale action, but it’s been a slow build over the past six years or so. We have always recycled everything we could, even when we lived in an apartment and the complex didn’t provide the pickup – I’d save it and take it to my parent’s house (though I take huge issue with the common perception that recycling is the most important thing you can do. It’s the third of the R’s, and the least impactful, but I’ll get to that). I believe that a lot of people make this harder than they need to, and I think that there are a lot of little steps you can take immediately that will make an impact. You don’t have to invest a ton of time or money to make a shift in the way you approach your days. Taking smaller steps will make it seem manageable, and it will be more likely that the habits stick. If you try to overhaul everything at once, you’ll get frustrated.

Reduce is the first R, and the most important. Reduce your consumption, meaning do without or find an alternative. This dovetails with the second R, reuse. After we got married, we made a shift to all reusable cloth products – no paper towels (except to clean the toilet – yuck! I just can’t bring myself to use a sponge for that task) and no paper napkins. I am no longer buying single use paper products, which means they are not winding up in the landfill and neither is the packaging.

We’ve found that if we didn’t have toddlers, we could probably use a napkin for at least three meals before needing to wash it, which would not significantly increase our dirty laundry. As it is, they don’t take up much space and just get tossed in with the clothes. A dish towel hangs near the sink for drying hands. These get washed a little more often, simply because they get used hard and little people love to pull them down onto the floor. My dish towels are not pretty. They are stained from mopping up spills, and many have holes, but they are functional.

If the temperature is above freezing, and it’s not raining, our laundry is probably on the line, including all the napkins and dish towels. The only thing I always wash separately and put in the dryer is the dog bedding, to remove the hair. I use regular wooden clothespins, the kind with the springs, because I find that they grip the fabric tightly but can be applied gently so as not to stretch or snag the clothes. There was a pulley system here when we moved in, but I’ve found that I prefer a fixed length of line. Even though you have to walk back and forth, this access gives you the option of shifting individual pieces as they dry, and filling in the gaps. If you start early in the day, and you have enough line, you can get four loads hung out before lunch!

Line drying eliminates the static caused by the dryer (no need for dryer sheets – reduce!) and if you’re careful about how you hang things, often takes care of most of the wrinkles. It saves money across the board. I read a figure once that you can save up to 6% on your electric bill just by air drying your laundry. An added bonus is the wonderful smell, particularly when you hang the sheets out. There’s nothing like crawling into crisp, line-dried bedding!

My mom used the clothesline when I was growing up and I remember hiding among the sheets and watching the sun shine through them. I would hand wash my doll clothes, Laura Ingalls-style, and clip them to the line to dry. When we lived in Baltimore as new homeowners, one of the first additions to our yard was new line on the clothesline posts, but as often as I peeked into other people’s yards, I never saw anyone else in our neighborhood with clothes hanging out. I’m happy to see a lot of clotheslines in use up here!

Do you hang your clothes on the line? Why or why not?

We have a new studio here in town. Actually, it has a Mount Vernon address, but it’s outside the village, up “the Belgrade Road,” and far enough away that when you stand next to your car after class, all you can hear is stillness.

In the last yin session I attended before heading to Indy, I struggled to find that stillness in my practice. I fought myself for half the class before suddenly realizing that my mind was clear and my shoulders had dropped to the floor. Our instructor, Jenna, keeps reminding us that the poses are always the same. Pigeon is always pigeon. We are the ever-changing variable. What we bring to the mat is what alters our practice. It’s such a powerful idea, and one that I hope I carry with me as I approach these new adventures we are facing.

Sometimes a revision to The Plan is supremely exciting, leaving you breathless with anticipation for what’s to come. Sometimes not so much.

And sometimes you’re left somewhere in the middle, which is where I find myself right now. I got a job. I am not pleased that I needed to do so, but it was/is a necessary evil. Luckily, I am thrilled about the position I secured, and it’s an incredible package: it will pay the bills, it provides several types of insurance and a retirement matching plan, it allows me to work from home, and it’s for an organization that I love and believe in 110%. I know how fortunate I am to have all of those variables come together, and I am grateful. Truly.

I spent the last week in Indianapolis, meeting my new colleagues at headquarters and learning so very much. The organization itself is not new to me – I have been an active member for fourteen years – but the inner workings are all new to me.

Goodness, but I missed Maine! I missed my people, of course, but I also missed the land. The lakes and the hills and the trees and the breeze and the stars. It was so good to come home, for it really does feel like home now.

I came back to a glut of produce from our little garden. Daddy and Swee picked more cherry tomatoes than we could eat, so we gave another pint to Miss Barbara, and then set up a table at the end of the driveway this morning with a coffee can honor system. We were sold out before noon.

There were also quite a few cucumbers, several that had gone bad, and the rest in varying states of ripeness. It was really nice to settle back into my kitchen by throwing together some refrigerator pickles.

I am pretty sure that my original recipe came from Erica at Northwest Edible Life, but I can’t be certain. Either way, it’s a quick and simple fix for when you end up with too many cucumbers to eat them plain. In our house, that’s a lot of cucumbers.

I re-use jars for these pickles since I don’t bother canning them – they don’t last that long. My favorite jar right now is a wide-mouth salsa jar. I feel like I keep refilling it as soon as it’s empty, it works so well. My brine is simple – one cup of water, one cup of vinegar, one tablespoon of kosher salt. I stuff the jar with cucumber slices and add five peppercorns, a pinch of pickling spice, a couple good shakes of dried dill weed, and a little scoop of minced garlic. When the brine comes to a boil, pour it over the slices, twist the lid on tight, and stick it in the back of the fridge for a week or so.

That’s all there is to it, and they’re so good. We have two jars going right now, and I’ll probably take one to the picnic we’re attending tomorrow. Tuesday is a big day here – J has class, it’s my first real day of work at home, and Swee starts nursery school. Your good thoughts are appreciated, and if any of you WAHMs have tips, I’m all ears.