Rational Living

Adventures in Soap-Making

2012-02-08T07:49:00.000-06:00

Back in October I decided that I would finally, after several years of deliberation, attempt to make soap. Real soap - with lye and oil and everything.

This was a big deal, considering I would consistently freeze up in high school chemistry lab because I was absolutely certain I would blow the entire building up with a misstep.

The thought of using lye frightened me. Prior to starting my experiment I gave a little speech to the girls informing them to call 911 if something exploded or if I started yelling. Then I put on my heavy duty vinyl gloves and Steampunk goggles. I take eye protection very seriously.

I tried two different crock pot soap recipes and managed to survive both. I had a serious case of tendinitis in my shoulder after the first batch, due to all the stirring. TMOTH was available to help me with the second batch, so that was much better.

The white soap is an olive oil based soap. The yellow-tinged soap is an oatmeal-honey mixture.

The olive oil soap was pretty much cured within a month and ready to use. It's very similar to Ivory soap and lathers well. Because it is a Castile soap it can be used in making laundry soap. The oatmeal-honey soap was very, very soft at molding and still needs another month or so to completely cure.

In the end, I survived without too much harm and made enough soap to get our household through a year's worth of showers, baths, and hand washings. And all of the supplies were much cheaper than buying bar after bar of eco-friendly soaps at the store.

There might, however, be a lye burn mark or two on the kitchen counter top.

I think it adds character.

--Rational Mama

Oh, If I Only Could...

2012-02-06T10:20:00.001-06:00

A coworker brought this to my attention.

Oh, if I only had $150 to blow I would so buy this and put it near the chicken coop.

--Rational Mama

Convalescence

2012-02-03T09:19:00.001-06:00

It's been a pretty low-energy, low-expectations kinda week. I had extensive surgery last week and so have spent this week at home recovering. It was my first experience with surgery and general anesthesia. All the good points make me think of the ideal approach to time-travel: a feeling of drunkenness, followed by a sudden shift forward in time with no awareness of the passing between.

I'm not used to having so much time around the house that doesn't involved chores or tasks and such. It's kinda weird.

I've spent a decent amount of time streaming Netflix. I have worked my way through the first season of the BBC series Sherlock (Martin Freeman is my new boyfriend), and am nearly finished with the first season of PBS's Downton Abbey. I highly, highly recommend both.

Crazy Cat thinks I should watch another episode. Why not?

I have a little table set up next to the sofa so I don't have to jump up and down to get lots of little mundane things. It hosts remotes, a current embroidery project, medications and some reading materials.

More on that embroidery project later...

The table is so handy it may become a permanent fixture.

When I've managed to pry myself from the sofa I've daydreamed about the upcoming planting season. So many lists...some more reality-based than others.

I would like one of everything, please.

We've been blessed (hopefully not cursed) by some amazing end-of-January weather. Highs in the 60s and plenty of sunshine. It has served as a nice excuse to get out and take short walks to build my strength and stamina back up.

There is still a nest in this little house from last summer. Should I empty it?

My companion.

We've also had very little moisture this winter, which makes me concerned for the farmers.

Picture perfect day.

We're now half-way between the winter solstice and the spring equinox.

Of course, by the time I come in from a walk I'm ready for a nap.

Or another episode of Downton Abbey.

--Rational Mama

What's the Deal with Chickens and Roads?

2012-02-01T13:11:00.001-06:00

So last Friday evening we received a call from one of Sissy's besties. Apparently, while waiting for the bus to depart from school she noticed a feathered chicken wing in the road and its former owner in the ditch. Bestie asked if Pat was still missing.

She was. It had been exactly two weeks since Sasquatch carried her off.

After confirming the coloring of the deceased chicken matched that of Pat, TMOTH and Sissy walked the mere 1 1/2 blocks to the school to check out the carnage.

Yup, it was Pat. Apparently she attempted to cross the road (from our side of the road to that of the school) and was hit by a car. Based on the evidence it had been a pretty quick death, and it must have happened sometime during that day, since her body was not present during the morning school commute.

She was brought home and buried in the back half-acre next to a trio of rose bushes.

We were all amazed that Pat was found so close to home after so long. If she was that close she could have heard all of our calling, all of Dockers' crowing and the dinner bell ringing (we literally ring a bell when we give the chickens cracked corn - it's our Pavlovian way of making sure they all come when we need to lock them in the coop yard).

Maybe she didn't want to come home. Maybe I had it wrong all this time.

Maybe Sasquatch didn't abduct her.

Maybe she ran off with Sasquatch - a love affair otherwise forbidden by chicken sensibilities.

Don't cry, big guy. You'll love again someday.

Somewhere, a lonely 'Squatch is crying.

--Rational Mama

Rational Lessons

2012-01-30T13:43:00.005-06:00

Last October I gave a program one Sunday morning as a follow-up to the rationing year. What follows is the text of that program.

--Rational Mama

Good morning!

Okay. So the last time I stood up here for any appreciable amount of time was in late January 2010. On that brisk Sunday morning I shared the story of how me and my family (including my husband TMOTH, and our two daughters, Sissy and Eowyn) had chosen to live on WWII civilian rations for 1 year. It was our attempt to live our beliefs of responsible consumption and sustainable living. As I said back then, “[T]his experiment is about learning how much you're willing to change to make a change. What if you dared to only consume what you needed, and then as fairly as possible at that?” Our goal was, by the end of the rationing year, to have a better understanding of our needs vs. wants, so that we could re-prioritize our family resources to be more in line with our desires to live a more ethical lifestyle. By adopting a tried and true system that literally millions had followed (and survived!), we were confident that the rationing system would be free of the shortsightedness and mistakes of any green-living program we created for ourselves.

At the time of my last presentation we were merely one month into our year-long project. Now, I stand before you nearly 19 months later, and a full 10 months since our experiment ended, ready to give you the rundown and share our amazing insights gained during those months. I am also fully aware that today’s presentation serves as a sequel, and sequels are rarely as interesting as their predecessors with, of course, the exception of the Star Trek (Wrath of Kahn) and Star Wars (The Empire Strikes Back) franchises.

With that in mind…"Rationing, a historical frontier. These are the challenges of the Rational Living family. Their 12 month mission: to explore strange new food combinations, to seek out reduced consumption and mindful living, and to boldly go where no American family has gone befo…well, since 1945.” Okay, seriously, moving on…

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…Americans rationed. From 1942 to 1945 a complex system, implemented by the Office of Price Administration, determined how much Americans could consume. Restrictions ranged from the more industrial (gasoline, rubber, appliances) to the personal (food, coffee and shoes). As wartime needs changed, so did rationing allotments - the availability of certain rationed items fluctuated considerably during this period.

Our own rationing system was set up to duplicate (or provide modern-day equivalents for) the WWII civilian structure. For example, the historical example would give our family 11 gallons of gasoline per week. But, once we considered the increased fuel efficiency of our modern vehicles and the average miles per gallon of vehicles back then and crunching numbers…blah, blah, carry the one…came up with a modern ration of 193 miles per week between our two vehicles. For the rationing year all of our shopping, entertainment, school and vacation driving had to fit within that limit.

When it came to food items were rationed in different ways; points per item or a set amount per person were the most common approaches. For our experiment our household was allotted two pounds of sugar per week, which sounds like a sizable sum until you remember that prepackaged sweets were not allowed during the project, due to historical accuracy.

Household coffee was limited to two pounds every five weeks. That’s the equivalent of one cup of coffee per adult, per day.

Canned goods, frozen produce (what little was available in the 1940s) and dried beans were rationed on a green point system. In general, the more processed or exotic an item was, the higher the amount of rationing points were required to purchase said item. Thus, dried beans cost relatively few rationing points, while a bottle of ketchup (that holy among holy for children) would cost our family nearly all of our green points for the week.

Cheese, fats, oils and meat (specifically, pork and beef) were rationed separately from canned goods, but they were all part of their own red point system.

Not all foodstuffs were rationed during WWII: eggs, grains and fresh vegetables and fruit were spared from rationing, but were subject to seasonally availability and unpredictable shortages. Game meat, poultry and fish were not rationed in the 1940‘s because they were local offerings. Since poultry and fish are just as easily attainable nowadays at your grocery store as pork and beef, we decided to include them in our red point system.

To simulate the unpredictable availability of both rationed and non-rationed items during WWII we created a simple, but effective system that mimicked these fluctuations. Every week we pulled situations and items out of a bag (the number of which was dictated by the role of a die) and had to accommodate those changes for the entire week. So, with little advance warning, we might find that the points required to purchase canned corn or beef had doubled, or that there was a flour or sugar shortage.

We added a few self-imposed restrictions in spirit of the program: since I had read that ration points were required for restaurant meals, we decided that eating out at restaurants would be limited to only once a month as a family. During the week we were scheduled to have our dinner out, our ration point allotments for that week would be decreased by a comparable amount.

Whew, that’s a lot of history and guidelines! Well, I’m here to tell you the ups and downs of our year-long attempt to live our beliefs by living in the past…er…on within the guidelines of the historical rationing system. Now remember, our desire to complete this project wasn't out of some longing for historical reenactment or to legitimize our love of the The Glenn Miller Orchestra. Instead, it was to experience a life adapted by changing ingrained behaviors to better reflect our desires to reduce our consumption of precious resources and to gain a better understanding of what were our needs, rather than just wants. So, really, the lessons we learned could really apply to any attempt to live one’s convictions. As such, I pulled out what I think are the 7 most important lessons we learned that could apply to anyone attempting. (Why seven? Because I started with 10 and exceeded my time limit)

Here goes.

Lesson #1: When living your beliefs, you may find that your beliefs are, indeed, not based on facts.

I spent the better part of two months researching WWII rationing in order to determine our proper allotments and guidelines for the various restrictions we would be experiencing over the course of the rationing year. Hours were spent clicking through online resources and spinning through microfilm reels at the library. After pages of notes and calculations I felt confident that we had a working (and historically accurate) system in place.

However, during our 3rd week a nagging suspicion drove me to double check some figures. Sure enough, I found that due to an error in my notes I had miscalculated our green (or canned goods) allotment; where we had been living quite comfortably with a total of 192 green points per week, our actual true allotment was…only 48 green points per week. Needless to say, menu planning became much more interesting after that discovery.

Another “Aha!” moment came during our fourth month of the rationing project. Earlier in the year we had no problem with the dining-out restriction - it was like we were some bad-ass non-eating out ninjas who could quickly and silently whip up an easy dinner in the chaos of the day. Only a half-hour to eat between getting home and piano lessons? No problem! Running errands that conflict with lunch time? Simple - just grab some snacks to tide you over until we eat a real meal at home.

Yeah, that was so February. By April we'd definitely experienced a backslide in this category. An extra dinner out. Grabbing a quick sandwich while out shopping. I was beginning to feel guilty about this slide, since we were reducing our allotted rationing points on the weeks we went out, so future purchases were affected. So, I dug and dug further into the historical tomes and finally found this quote from a 1945 newspaper article:

OPA regulations state that all persons who consume eight or more meals a week in a restaurant, hotel dining room, hospital or institution…shall surrender their ration books to the owner or operator of such places of business, and stamps will be removed…

What? What? Eight meals out per week? Who the heck does that? Definitely not us. After that epiphany, eating out was so ON. Moral of this story? A little fact-checking never hurt anyone.

Lesson #2 Living your beliefs will be liberating, but will most likely be uncomfortably restricting at times.

Man, oh man…never did 193 miles seem like such a small distance as it did during rationing.

True, many weeks we were under that limit and able to hoard some of those miles into the next week. But, in general, nearly all trips - whether for shopping or entertainment - were evaluated for necessity. Suddenly, our favorite Tex-Mex joint on the south side of town became too far away, and the girls’ out-of-town swim meets made for some interesting weeks which would not have been possible without our “rollover” miles. In the end, our family traveled just over 10,000 miles during the rationing year, which was right on track (almost down to the mile) with our allotment. That’s a lot of miles, but it’s still nearly 14,000 less than (or less than ½ of) the national average for a family of our size. Being able to see the big picture perspective can make it easier to accept the restrictions required to live within your principles.

Lesson #3 Murphy’s Law still applies while living your beliefs.

Murphy’s Law of “whatever can go wrong, will,” never takes a break. During our year of rationing both our oven and propane grill died. Due to the increased demand for metal during the war, new appliances (such as ovens, refrigerators and washing machines) were hard to come by during rationing. In fact, you basically had to apply for an appliance purchase. Unable to purchase new equipment (and not thrilled with our “used” options) we were lucky enough to secure the needed parts to repair both the oven and grill and keep them working for the next several years.

The biggest snafu that had us shaking our fists skywards toward the gods concerned the issue of attempting a summer with no air-conditioning. Since household air-conditioning as we know it was extremely rare in the 1940’s it seemed only logical that skipping the A/C during rationing year would not only be historically appropriate but also be a great way to reduce our energy consumption and costs. Plus, the decision gave us the final kick in the pants needed to install a whole house fan (using a used fan salvaged by my dad).

Let me remind you that the summer of 2010 was a scorcher - not quite as bad as what we had this year (thank goodness), but it was the hottest summer in well over a decade. It was hot. And humid. While the whole house fan helped, we found it tempting to run it for longer periods, just to keep a breeze stirring in the house. Bedtime meant cool-down baths and strategically placed fans…and sweating. Eventually, it got to the point where the heat was affecting our ability to sleep, since bedtime temperatures in the house (even with the assistance of the attic fan) were hovering around 90 degrees. In an effort to find coping mechanisms, I spoke with “old-timers” who had made it through the 40’s without A/C. They explained that some folks had window swamp coolers, and lots of houses still used sleeping porches (we had neither). They also explained that, during those horrendous days of summer, societal expectations changed - work shifts were altered, expectations were lowered; people just didn't do much. Not having that flexibility and faced with another night of sweaty, pathetic sleep, we finally caved at 3 o’clock in the morning one day late June. The air-conditioning was back on.

We were excited when the utility bill arrived a few weeks later, eager to see how much our sweat and discomfort had saved the pocket book. Total savings? Zero. Why? The dehumidifier in the basement. Without the air-conditioner running and acting as a dehumidifier for the entire house, the basement dehumidifier (necessary to keep the moisture level bearable in the basement of our 100 year old house) had to work overtime. It basically never got a break the entire time that we were stuffing ice down our shirts and playing in the sprinklers. Needless to say, the air-conditioner stayed on for rest of the summer.

Lesson #4 Living your beliefs can be hard to swallow (literally) at times.

When it came to historic meals during the rationing project there was the good (SPAM burgers, victory pancakes and maple pudding), the bad (sausage loaf, cabbage del Monaco), and the ugly. Nothing portrays the ugly of rationing meals more for our family than liver. Since low-quality cuts and organ meats were considerably lower in rationing points meals during WWII often incorporated these items. One brave day in February I decided that it was liver day. Glenn had had some nasty run-ins with liver as a youth, so he was less than thrilled. Myself and the girls had never had liver before, so this was going to be a new experience. I think my blog post following liver night reports it well:

Sissy, ever the enthusiastic carnivore, took the first bite. She quickly spit it back out, saying it was too lemony and tasted a little strange. The piece of liver spent such a short time in her mouth I was doubtful if she really got the full flavor.

Eowyn, always a bit more reserved around meat, fondled a piece of liver in her mouth and then spit it out. Party pooper.

TMOTH was next. Like a champion he put an honest bite into his mouth and began to chew. After two chews his eyes became all squinty. After three chews his mouth was grimacing, apparently in a wrestling match with his mind. On the fourth chew the mind won and out came the liver.

Friends, I feel like I should tell you that chewed, cooked liver looks like cat-sick.

I was the only one left. Talk about peer pressure. I was ready to prove them all wrong. I put a good nickel-sized piece of liver in my mouth. I was pleasantly surprised by the texture; the wet tissue paper of raw liver had been replaced by a tender meat, very similar to chicken fried steak. Another bite and I could taste the lemony-bacon sauce. Salty and tangy at the same time. Mmm... This wasn't bad at all. I committed to the chewing - this piece was awesome and was going to make it all the way down unlike the other losers at the table. Four chews. Five chews. What a bunch of pansies, they couldn't keep the liver in their mouths for more than -

OH MY HELL, WHAT IS THAT TASTE?

Why does it taste like burning plastic in my mouth? Did a chewing-activated enzyme just turn my piece of food into motor oil? What is going on?

Friends, my piece of liver became reacquainted with my plate.

At some point, sticking to your beliefs is going to leave a bad taste in your mouth (either literally or figuratively). But don’t worry, it will pass.

Lesson #5 It IS possible to go too far in living your beliefs (but a trip there just might be what you need).

By early September - over eight months into our program year - rationing was, well…kinda boring. I had memorized the regular point values for our most used items, there were many weeks worth of Victory menus to choose dinners from and we had been able to stock up on most staples so as to avoid any negative impacts from sudden shortages. The rationing life was kinda…normal. The challenge was sort of…gone. Rather than sit back and relax for the remaining two and a half months, though, I had this idea…

See, one of the regular visitors on our blog about the rationing project was Jamie - Jamie lives in the U.K. and was following the U.K. ration system from WWII for (what was initially) three months. His little experiment happened to overlap in time with our own rationing project. We had a good time comparing and contrasting our respective rations and how our countries’ palates adapted to what was available. But there was no question that Jamie’s rations were more restrictive; as complicated as rationing was in the U.S. during WWII there is no doubt that our allies across the pond had it much, much worse. Not only were U.K. rations more restrictive and meager, but they experienced more frequent and lasting shortages (not to mention the bombings).

Their period of rationing was also significantly longer than that experienced in the U.S. Whereas U.S. rationing lasted for the better part of three years (roughly 1942 to 1945), rationing in the U.K. lasted a whopping 14 years (1940 to 1954).

So it only seemed fair that during our own year-long rationing program that we honor those allies who had it much worse than us. I mean seriously honor them - not just go with a "Look, I made a Woolten Pie" kinda thing. Which is why we decided to give U.K. WWII rations a try for two weeks in October.

I corresponded back and forth with Jamie to make sure I would be working with accurate rations. After all - so much more was rationed and in tighter amounts that I wanted to make sure we were giving it an honest go. Even grains like rice and oatmeal, and everyday items like fresh milk, cereal, eggs and soap were rationed. As a result, rationing diets in the British Isles relied heavily on fresh fruits and vegetables, with potatoes and breads being used as fillers. There was no doubt that all of our usual rations (and then some) took a major hit when we switched to the U.K. system. I mean, there wasn’t even a coffee ration.

It also took significantly more of my time and energy to organize shopping lists and points and to come up with appetizing, nutritiously balanced meals that the girls would eat.

Just a few days into the first week of U.K. rations and it became clear that, without non-rationed fillers like potatoes, U.K. rations provided just enough, just enough, food to get by on. Even though we were providing the girls with solid lunches and often skimping on our servings at breakfast and dinner so that they could have more, they needed snacks every night because of hunger. Genuine hunger. And we could only provide them meager snacks at best. TMOTH and I often went to bed hungry.

On day six of U.K. rations TMOTH and I were driving home from an errand, when he said quietly, “I’m hungry.” "Me, too," I replied. I thought about how many times the four of us had said those words during the past six days. I'd heard it from the girls more than once each day we'd been on U.K. rations. I thought about hearing it for another eight days. Having your patient children look at you with their big eyes, informing you that they are yet again hungry (because of a choice you made) is enough to break any parent’s heart.

"Maybe six days is enough," I said.

We had learned our lesson. What the civilians of the United Kingdom dealt with was far beyond the situation handed to the Americans. As Sissy put it, "They [in the U.K.] had only what was needed, but in the U.S. we could also get things we wanted."

So that evening we picked the girls up from their grandparents and told them that we were done with U.K. rations. They actually cheered. They were happy to be back on U.S. rations.

Lesson #6: Your beliefs might actually change.

I did a lot of soul searching after the U.K. ration experiment. Understanding at a deeper level what the people of the United Kingdom went through for the better part of 14 years made the U.S. system look like a walk in the park. And knowing that there are still plenty of people in the world today that subsist on government-imposed or humanitarian provided rations (if lucky) made our rationing program…well, it made it seem a bit of a bourgeois joke. Look at us, well-funded Americans choosing to “rough it” on a system that stifles our choices but still provides more than enough nourishment. I felt uncomfortable, almost ashamed, of what we were doing. The only way to justify our rationing experience, to make it have meaning, was to go back to the beginning.

As I said during that January morning when I stood here, “[T]his experiment is about learning how much you're willing to change to make a change. What if you dared to only consume what you needed, and then as fairly as possible at that? And what if your changes made a measurable difference? And those now surplus resources were somehow redirected to create change where it is needed?”

Line drying your clothes can make a difference. Driving less miles can make a difference. Changing the way you consume resources can make a difference…IF you seize those opportunities redistribute your resources.

This was our time to wake up and realize that our choices do matter and can make a difference.

By the end of the rationing project we had a contract on a modest (less than 1000 sq ft) home on just enough acreage to support a large family garden. We moved in in March, and our old house, (a century-old charmer with over 1600 sq. ft.) in the middle of town sold a few months later.

You see, we’d rather redistribute our own resources, moving them away from commercialized, process food sources and grow and preserve our own. We’d prefer to spend our money supporting humanitarian goals, rather than stuffing the pockets of global companies with questionable ethics.

To us, this also means not eating meat that comes out of the industrial animal farming system.

Remember, the main catalyst for the rationing project was a desire to live a more environmentally conscious and sustainable lifestyle. The rationing year was an attempt to move beyond the "easy" practices of recycling and cloth napkins and to dig deeper into ingrained practices and habits that needed changing. Our goal was to find changes that could and should be made to reduce our carbon footprint and create a lifestyle that had a less harmful effect on people and the planet. By the end of the rationing year we had to be honest with ourselves and admit that there was really nothing about the large-scale, industrial farming of animals that justified it being a part of that kind of lifestyle. Period.

At the end of the rationing project our plan was to eliminate industrial meat from our household- this means no meat from grocery store or restaurants. Meat that we have a personal relationship with is different; venison from TMOTH’s hunting or chicken we raise, slaughter and process well, that’s fair game (no pun intended) because utmost thought has been put into all the steps necessary to bring that meat from the field to the table.

This is a big change for us, and while we haven’t been 100% on track with this tenant since the end of the rationing program, we’re moving in the right direction.

Lesson #7 Living your beliefs is best done within a supportive, nurturing community.

There is absolutely no way that our family could have stayed committed the entire 12 months of the rationing project without the help of our supporters - our rationing community. Our church was a big part of this, providing a forum to share our story and an opportunity to expand the dialogue outside of our household. Three church families donated space for our Victory Gardens, several church families offered us excess produce to preserve, while another church regular donated a spare pressure canner to the cause. While there on Sunday mornings folks would regularly check in and ask how the project was going, or comment on a recent blog post. You kept us going through your encouragement, your questions, your generosity and support.

I mean, let’s face it - no matter how good your intentions there will always be haters and skeptics. And the rationing project had its fair share. An acquaintance couldn’t wrap her head at all around the concept of our chosen restrictions. “You must be really bored,” she wrote to me, “that’s the only reason I can think of as to why you would choose to go with all those restrictions and point tracking. Bored, or crazy.” Some out-of-town relatives, perplexed at the rationing project as a whole, made it clear that the scarcity of miles allowed by the project was “a silly way to decide whether or not you’re coming to visit.” And others made it clear that our decision to lean towards vegetarianism was, in their opinion, a poorly constructed plan. “What happens if you just really want to go to Red Robin?” they threw out, as if that was the nail in the coffin to that argument (it wasn’t - I informed them that any of Red Robin’s burgers can be made with a veggie burger if requested at ordering).

I’m not trying to pick a fight. What I am trying to do is remind you that some people will be so completely unnerved and threatened by your ability to live your beliefs (heck, to even have beliefs in the first place), that they will say and do some hurtful things in response.

But if you gather around you a community of like-minded, supportive individuals you will have many hands to hold you up (and many shoulders to cry on when the going gets tough).

WWII civilian rationing didn’t happen in a vacuum - it was part of a larger, national initiative that included war bonds, resource drives and pulled in help from the full gamut of society - veterans, housewives, school children and institutions such as newspapers, movie studios, schools and both big and small business. Only when they worked together were they able to get the American public behind wartime restrictions.

And only with the help from our friends, especially our community at church, was the rationing project possible.

So, there you have it - seven tips for living your beliefs, as learned during our rationing project. In January of 2010 I said, “A year from now I imagine we’ll have a much better understanding of our wants and needs. We’ll have an idea of how our purchases fit into the larger world, and how, buy being conscious about those purchases, we can limit the unintended harm and maximum the positive potential of those purchases.” I think that’s true - we came out of the project much more thoughtful consumers.

I also said, “…I'm 100% certain that there will be moments of weakness and regret, but all the good adventures have those, right?” Moments of weakness, for sure we had those. But regrets? Hmm…there were things we could have done differently, for sure. It was a year of challenges, learning and inconvenience. But regrets? What comes to mind is a quote from the honorable Bob Dylan that I have tacked to my cubicle wall at work: “People seldom do what they believe in. They do what is convenient, then repent.”

We have nothing to repent for the rationing project, no regrets.

Near the end of the rationing year people began asking us what changes or project we would be undertaking during 2011. I sometimes had an internal visceral reaction to these well-meaning questions. I mean, hadn’t we done enough? We completely restructured and reduced our household consumption for an entire year. We became quasi-vegetarians and reduced our household footprint by 40%. We were done with projects for a while.

But I’d like to turn that question back to you. What project are you willing to undertake for the next year? How will you put your beliefs into action? With a little planning and a lot of support, you can do it.

Thank you.

CSI: The Shire

2012-01-19T18:41:00.000-06:00

Friends, when one commits to owning chickens, one also commits to a laundry list of inevitable firsts that come with owning chickens.

The first recognizable rooster crow of a young cock.
The first egg of a young pullet.
The first observed mating of said rooster and pullet.
The first slaughtering of a familiar chicken.

You get the picture.

This past Friday (Friday the 13th, wouldn't ya know), we had the unfortunate experience of having our first UFO - Unexpected Fowl Obfuscation. In other words, a chicken has gone missing.

To bring you up to speed on the poultry of The Shire - as of last week we had one rooster and eight hens. On most fair weather days the chickens have free run of The Shire as long as a human is present on the property. Otherwise, they are sequestered to their coop and coop yard. Never have we, during the day, seen or heard any predators that might threaten chicken safety - the dogs of The Shire are quick to alert us to any interlopers. The chickens also have a helpful habit of remaining on (or at the fence line of) our 2+ acres, which keeps them safe from potential dangers on neighboring properties.

Friday afternoon TMOTH was working outside and completed a head count of the chickens around 1pm. When I arrived home after 4pm I soon decided to herd the chickens to the coop in advance of bonfire happenings scheduled later that evening. But, I discovered, the hens only numbered seven. Pat was missing.

We called. We shook the corn can. We rang the chicken dinner bell. No Pat.

Together with the girls we scoured the perimeter of the property, calling for Pat and looking for signs of foul (fowl) play.

No feather heaps. No blood trails. Pat was just...gone. And she has remained gone since.

Have you seen this chicken?

Since Friday we've completed several more futile perimeter walks.

At this point, I'm thinkin' alien abduction or Sasquatch. Or, it might possibly be due to the stray dogs TMOTH saw running nearby two days prior. Or even hawks or owls. But seriously, it's probably the 'Squatch.

Why did the Sasquatch cross the road? Hmm...

Since Pat was not a feathered favorite among the girls, there (thankfully) hasn't been much anguish about the loss. But Pat was a very productive hen, with pretty brown eggs and the most beautiful golden dappled plumage.

She was the alpha hen, so I wonder how much her absence will affect the flock. Does Dockers (the rooster), realize she is gone? Does he care? Is he now more paranoid about potential dangers?

And which hen will now rise to be the new alpha hen?

--Rational Mama

New Year(s)

2012-01-06T14:32:00.005-06:00

So, the complicated thing about having your birthday less than two weeks after the New Year is that, with the passing of two major milestones in such a short time span, all the pressure to make positive changes in your life is condensed into one intense, multi-day journey of self-reflection, self-loathing, and resolution. It's like a mega-atonement; rather than metering out the self-criticism and self reflection over several months (as, I imagine, one with a July birthday might do), you're taking on all the guilt, promise and desire full-force and in your face.

To illustrate with a classy simile: it's like eating the Kool-Aid powder straight from the crinkled pouch, rather than mixing it with water, per directions. Overpowering, messy and both bitter and sweet at the same time. You may find yourself curled up on the floor, twitching from sugar shock with purple powder on your fingers and lips. But in the end, the visions you had during the process make it all worth it.

Yeah, so that pretty much sums up my previous week or so.

2011 was an intense year. Our family had to adapt to life after rationing, move into the new house, sell our old house, start new schools, deal with the incredibly hot summer (folks, do you remember July?), deal with family drama and then deal with medical dramas. Many of these things were, eventually, positive but nonetheless I was content to wave good-bye to 2011 on January 1st.

Straddling the lintels of both a new calendar year and birth year, I've had a lot of deep thoughts about what I want to do in 2012. There are many things that I want to not do in 2012, as I've been terrible over-committed the past year.

What I do want to do is spend more unstructured time with the girls, just hanging out and watching them blossom. I want to garden more and cook more. I want to dive back in to my embroidery and other crafts. And I want to write.

You may have noticed, but there was a six month period of no new posts here at Rational Living. It was completely unintentional, another casualty of 2011. I became jaded, thinking our rationing project was just an ephemeral thing and no longer relevant. The muse had vanished.

And then in December a couple of new readers stumbled upon the blog. Their comments were kind, encouraging. They made me feel like I might have something worth saying. Thanks, Gill. And friends and family mentioned how much they enjoyed reading the blog - when was I going to post again?

So, in 2012, Rational Living will once again be a "live" blog, with regular postings covering the topics of homesteading, crafting, cooking and whatever else I decide (note: there will most definitely be geeky overtones at times - you have been warned).

Thanks for being patient, kind readers.

Here's to a wonderful 2012!

--Rational Mama

P.S. Just for the record, one of the disappointing things about having your birthday less than two weeks after the New Year is that someone inevitably gives you a calendar for your birthday.

Bow Chick(en) Bow Wow

2011-07-31T09:33:00.005-05:00

So...I kinda sorta introduced the girls to Internet porn the other day.

But don't worry...it was only animal porn.

Wait, that didn't sound any better. Lemme 'splain.

A few weeks ago I was discussing the status of the chicken flock (roosters crowing!) with my country-wise co-worker and how, in another month, the hens would start laying eggs. My co-worker made the very good point that, since the chickens were approaching sexual maturity, we should review the dynamics of chicken mating with the girls.

You see, chicken sex involves a lot of climbing and pinching and grabbing and squawking, and more than one child has been concerned that the rooster was "being mean" to the hens in the process.

So being a good homesteading mother, I had "the birds and the bees...and the chickens" talk with the girls one night. I explained how the rooster climbs on to the back of the hen, and then uses his beak to grab either her neck and/or comb. The hen squawks, the rooster pulls down his rear and...well...you can figure out the rest. The whole thing last roughly 10 seconds.

But seeing how kids have active imaginations and a thirst for knowledge, they wanted to know more. How does the rooster balance on the hen? Does the hen just sit there? Does he just hop off when done?

Naturally, I went to YouTube.

I can't decide if the plethora of chicken sex videos available are for educational purposes (as was our intent) or something...more...disturbing. Either way, the girls got their questions answered and I somehow managed to stay clear of any videos that might not be suitable for young viewers.

The timing of our conversation and video viewing was perfect, because about a week later we were the audience to one of Dockers' earliest couplings with a hen.

"Sexy rooster in da hizzle!"

And wouldn't you know, it looked just like what we saw on YouTube.

--Rational Mama

Crazy Honest Chicken

2011-07-18T09:08:00.000-05:00

I've always been one of those people that prefer the truth, no matter how unpretty, to falsehoods.

Tell me the truth and I will deal with it; force rose-colored glasses on me and I'm totally unprepared to deal with the world once the spectacles are ripped away. I so very very much hate that feeling of the carpet pulling out from underneath you; when you are left viewing the world from a much different perspective after a violent readjustment.

I believe that living wide awake and facing the grotesque with the beauty is an honest, just way to live.

So when the big factory farms try to sell me packages of meat with images of happy farms and chickens living their lives in sunshine and glorious fields of green I get very pissy. The real reality includes enclosed, crowded chicken houses that require the chickens to wade through inches of fecal waste to get to automated food troughs. And then the insane assembly line at the slaughter houses, well...it's absolutely horrifying.

I don't want to support that reality. I don't want my money to tell the proprietors that this is all okay.

"You have just dined, and however scrupulously the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

So, friends, a few weeks ago - for the first time - we slaughtered a chicken.

It was the first time in my life that I willing chose to end of the life of anything bigger than a spider (that squirrel on 10th Avenue three years ago sooooo doesn't count - I swear it was a kamikaze squirrel).

The deed had been on the radar for several weeks but we were, well...chicken. Choosing to take knife in hand and kill an animal you've raised since its early days is not an easy thing. The animal knows you, knows that you are a provider. And there's a reluctance, because the burden of making it an ethical, humane kill is solely on your shoulders.

It wasn't technically a spontaneous act, but one Sunday a few weeks ago TMOTH and I screwed up our courage enough to proceed with plans. And once the decision was made we got down to business quickly.

There are plenty of websites out there, dear reader, that go into the nitty-gritty details of how to slaughter and butcher a chicken, so I won't bother sharing the technical processes.

I will, however, tell you it was a wide-awake experience, with sounds and smells which are etched in the surfaces of our memories. The girls were present during the entire activity and participated when appropriate (mostly when it was time to pluck). It was a very quiet time, but there were no tears.

In the end, we had a seven-pound (dressed weight) chicken. Since Rock Star was a meat bird, she had met her market weight of three to four pounds at around six to eight weeks of age. Because we had been dragging our feet about the slaughter, she had managed another six weeks of growth beyond that. She was big.

When folks who were in the know later asked, "How did she taste?" my reply was always, "Honest." Crazy honest. There was no trickery or deception in that chicken meal.

Rock Star had a good life. She always had access to food and water and friends. She was often given treats and and had a clean coop. She was never fed the remnants of other animals, and she was never injected or fed antibiotics while in our care. Her slaughter was swift and done out-of-sight of her coop-mates. Her carcass wasn't injected with solutions of sodium nastiness.

She was an honest chicken.

Thank you, Rock Star.

--Rational Mama

Solar Powered Cat

2011-07-10T10:38:00.000-05:00

Since we moved in to the new home, Fat Cat has pretty much been glued to the sofa.

It's a new sofa (bought specifically for the new house), and apparently the texture is perfect for napping The backrests are wonderful,cushiony pillows - which make the perfect kitty-shaped hammock. And it just so happens that the sofa sits in front of a window that gets direct sunlight during the late afternoon and evening hours. He basks for hours at a time in the warm sunshine.

I bet that if you ask him, Fat Cat thinks that the reason we moved was to give him this little bit of perfection.

Kitty paradise.

--Rational Mama

Ode to a Rock Star

2011-07-07T13:46:00.000-05:00

Oh, Rock Star.

You are a chicken loaded with personality.

You make happy little gulping noises every time you see us headed to the coop, hoping that we're bringing some yummy treat your way. And if we take the food dish away to clean it or refill it you pace around, making nervous little squeaks until we return.

You don't care for grass, but you like oats, corn and mulberries. Especially mulberries! Anyone who thinks that a Cornish Rock can't haul ass has never seen you move when we drop fresh mulberries into the chicken yard. It takes effort to lift yourself up and run, but you do it without hesitation for mulberries.

You like to be petted on the tail feathers, but not on the back or head.

You hate being separated from the other hens, but often don't have the physical ability to get yourself to where they are. Your girth has become a hindrance...I'm afraid that is the curse of the Cornish Rock meat chicken that you are. If you were a person I'm sure you'd be eligible to receive a free mobility scooter, just like they advertise on television.

Since you are not physically able to get up on the roosts, you're favorite leisure spot is the natural perch formed by the threshold of the coop yard door. Of course, this means you're blocking the entrance/exit for all the other chickens. Luckily, you're easy-going enough to let them just walk over you.

According to all the chicken manuals, you reached market weight sometime between six and eight weeks of age.

You are now 12 weeks of age. You have mobility issues. And you eat a lot of grain.

A lot.

It is time, Rock Star.

It is time.

--Rational Mama

Home, At Last

2011-07-06T19:31:00.004-05:00

Finally...

After a year of planning and doing...

After nine months on the market...

The old Rational Living house has sold.

The past six weeks or so have been a blur of painting and hailstorms and roofers and van loads of all those things we didn't bring over earlier in the name of "staging." You know, "Let's keep those dozen boxes of non-important things in the basement so that potential buyers can get a feel for what it will look like when they live here." Or, "The artificial Christmas tree is still up in the attic so that potential buyers will be like, 'Whoa! Finally, a place to put our Christmas tree when it's not December! I'm so amazingly thrilled that I want to buy this place right now!'"

Last Friday all the papers were signed and keys were handed over.

It feels so good to have that weight lifted. Now we can better plan our finances. Now we can have enough time for the new Rational Living house and land (which, friends, I affectionately call The Shire).

Now I can have enough time to write here more frequently.

Welcome home, friends.

--Rational Mama

Garden Review

2011-06-06T09:33:00.008-05:00

Well, it's not last year's Victory Garden, but our first garden at the new homestead is in the ground and thriving.

It's a new experience for me to have plenty of space for the vegetable garden; in the past I've had to creatively cram plants into tiny spaces with sometimes questionable amounts of sunlight.

But this year is different. The established garden area is roughly 20' x 12' in dimension, with room to grow. With all the craziness this spring with the move and we such we stuck to the established area this year and planted the following:

12 tomato plants (mix of paste, cherry and standards)
2 pepper plants
2 eggplants
2 zucchini (1 yellow, 1 green)
5 okra plants
4 cucumber mounds (2 picking, 2 regular)
1 cantaloupe
1 watermelon

I missed the window on cool-weather crops, so there's no lettuce, spinach, radishes or broccoli this summer. Hopefully I can have time to plant those for a fall harvest.

Additionally, I hijacked the flower bed in front of the house for herbs and planted the following:

4 basil
2 oregano
1 dill
1 cilantro
1 parsley
2 sage
2 mints (in pots)
6 lavender

Those of you who know me well will recognize what amazing self-restraint I'm showing by only planting four basil!

TMOTH planted a row of blackberry starts in early spring and we now have 10 that are thriving and will produce fruit this year. He's also planted roughly 60 sunflower seeds.

There are grand plans to convert the back half-acre to an organized, multi-plot garden area, but that is years in the future. In the meantime, I think we've have a nice start, especially when you add in the strawberries and mulberry tree!

--Rational Mama

Mulberries!

2011-06-04T07:53:00.005-05:00

The tree closest to the chicken coop is a mulberry tree, and as of this week the mulberries are starting to become ripe.

I didn't learn the joy of fresh mulberries until I was an adult. Luckily, my girls won't have to wait that long. I see lots of cobblers and, possibly, mulberry wine in our future.

A branch of the mulberry tree overhangs the chicken yard. Apparently, appreciating mulberries isn't just a human thing.

Strawberry season stretches into mulberry season, which might just stretch into blackberry season, which is followed by apple season.

Life is good.

--Rational Mama

Profiles in Poultry

2011-05-29T18:07:00.000-05:00

(Note: I have know idea why you might be seeing suspect spellings highlighted in yellow on this post...strange.)

Okay, so this is the post where I go off the deep end and you, dear reader, begin to understand just how much I like our chickens.

Dear reader, I sure do like our chickens.

As of today they are approximately nine weeks old, which means they're on the verge of officially graduating from being identified as "chicks" and will soon be more appropriately referred to as "pullets" or "cockerels." They are still a good two to four months from laying their first eggs (for those built with the required features).

An aside: I confess that I usually just call them "chickens." Or more specifically, "the chickens." As in: I'm going to go let the chickens out," or "Has anyone put the chickens in the coop tonight?"

The past two months we have raised these 11 chickens from wee chicks to their current, prepubescent selves. In that time they have shown their amazing chicken instinct and learned how to scratch, fly, eat worms, roost and roll in a dust bath all on their own. They also all have very distinct personalities and now that we have a good handle on individual distinctions and names we present to you the current occupants of the Rational Living coop.

The Black Stars

The Black Stars represent two of the six sex-linked chicks we purchased. Sex-linked chicks are hybrid of two standard breeds that can be sexed (that means you can identify their gender, get your head out of the gutter!) shortly after they hatch. Black Stars are the offspring of a Rhode Island Red male and a Barred Plymouth Rock female. Because of this, all our Black Stars (and other sex-linked chicks) were guaranteed hens. Our two Black Stars are Feather and Ms. Thang.

Feather
"You lookin' at me?"

Feather is a sweet, fairly friendly bird and is Sissy's pet (that really is the best way to describe the relationship).

Ms. Thang
...Because your conscience in cricket form is too easy to step on.

Ms. Thang distinguished herself at an early age as the feisty one that leaps into danger (or pecks at your hand) while others hide in the corner. She is very suspicious of humans and seems to be constantly watching and judging us. She's your conscience in chicken form and she is a very good candidate for Alpha Hen. We can tell the two Black Stars apart by the fact that Ms. Thang has deep-black feet with a near-white center toe and a mostly black (rather than pink) comb.

Speckled Sussexes

Helen and Holly, our two Speckled Sussexes, aren't technically sex-linked, but they were known females when we purchased them. They are both sweet, curious and patient birds that seem to have a genuine interest in human activities. Both were named by Eowyn, who is awfully sweet on them.

Holly
Sweet and spotty!

Holly was named after Eowyn's teacher this year, who is a sweet, wonderful lady. Holly the teacher has lots of freckles, and Holly the chicken has lots of white spots.

Helen
She has yet to make the sign for "water."

Helen was named after Helen Keller, one of Eowyn's inspirations. In the early days of chick handling Helen was less than compliant and reminded Eowyn of Helen Keller's behavior at the time of Anne Sullivan's arrival. Luckily, Helen has settled down nicely and loves to be in the companionship of humans. In fact, she's usually the first one to greet us when we approach the coop. Helen as fewer white spots than Holly.

Amber Star

The Amber Stars are the last of our sex-linked chicks.

Pecky-pecky
All of the nervous energy makes for a blurry photo. Just like with Sasquatch.

In the early days of having the chicks there was one yellow chick that really liked to peck. Peck the box. Peck the water dish. Peck the box again. Peck the food dish. Peck the box. Repeat ad nauseum. That's Pecky-pecky, whose name is a nice homage to Ramona Quimby's cat, Picky-picky. Pecky-pecky has a lot of nervous energy.

Tipsy
Tipsy really likes the camera and knows how to work it.

Tipsy rounds out our sex-linked chicks. Poor Tipsy was not in good shape when she came to the Rational Living household. At that time she was the same size as her box-mates, but had difficulty putting any weight on her right foot. As a result, she spent much of her time leaning against the edges of the cardboard pen and had difficulty getting enough food and water. During the first two weeks she was handled frequently as we helped feed her and made sure she had assisted trips to the waterer. When she tried walking in open space on her own she looked like a drunken sailor, hence the origin of her name.

There were a few days during that early period when we honestly didn't know if Tipsy would make it - she was listless and had labored breathing. But over time her leg healed (it's still not clear if she hatched with a splayed foot or if something happened when the store employee scooped her up for our purchase). Eventually she turned a corner, but because of her early troubles she is a bit of a runt; at this time Tipsy is still only two-thirds the size of her counterpart, Pecky-pecky. Because of this she looks a little small for her feathers and may never produce eggs. We're okay with that last part; she's a lap chicken and enjoys being feed by hand. And we are happy to oblige.

You didn't think that I was joking about that "lap chicken" comment, did you?

Buff Brahmas

The Buff Brahmas were our most mysterious chick purchases. Scooped from a bin vaguely labeled as "feathered breeds," they were a straight-run of (at the time) unknown breed. For those who don't know, a straight run is when you get an unsexed assortment of chicks; in your straight run you could theoretically have all roosters, a mix of roosters and hens, or all hens.

In their second week with us these straight-run chicks began developing feathers on their feet. At first I thought they must be Cochins, which was the only breed of chickens I knew of that had feathered feet. As they continued to develop it became clear that their appearance was not matching up with any Cochin breeds, so I did some further Googling and determined that they were, in fact, Buff Brahmas.

In the past month it has also become quite clear that at least two of the Brahmas are roosters, at least one is a hen, and the other...well...the other...hmmm....

Mr. Fancy Pants, Esq.

Mr. Fancy Pants is a young rooster (technically, they're cockerels until they turn one year of age) and has the most splendid display of feathered feet of any of the Brahmas. While researching what breed the mysterious four might be Sissy commented that the heavily feathered feet and legs look like pants - but not just any pants, fancy pants. Hence, a name was born.

Dockers
He's business casual when he wears a necktie.

Dockers is the second confirmed rooster among the Brahmas. He, too, has feathered feet, but not to the same extravagant level as Mr. Fancy Pants. Hence, he's a Dockers kinda guy (you know, Dockers are nice enough to wear to work but they wouldn't do for formal occasions). Dockers was originally the subservient rooster - he was about the same size as Mr. Fancy Pants and would back down after challenging him to a game of "Who's the Baddest Bad-Ass in the Coop." Over the past few weeks, though, things have changed. Dockers is now noticeably bigger than Mr. Fancy Pants and has a larger, redder comb and wattles. The power has shifted.

Cleopatra
She denies all rumors of being smuggled in carpet.

Cleopatra, or Cleo, is the confirmed hen of the Brahmas. She's a quite, timid soul that, along with Tipsy, is often at the edges of the flock. She's has to put up with a lot of male posturing and displays of machismo among her Brahma brothers, which reminded me a lot of Cleopatra putting up with Julius Caesar and Mark Anthony (can you tell what I've been reading?).

It's Pat!

The fourth Brahama, well, ummm, we have yet to determine it's gender. It's slightly larger than Cleopatra, but not as large as Dockers or Mr. Fancy Pants. It has a small comb, but it is bright red, rather than pink like Cleopatra's. Is it a he or she? Clearly, it's Pat!

Cornish Rock

Cornish Rocks are a hybrid chicken, a type of meat bird that grows about twice as fast as the above mentioned breeds. They are one of the most commonly used birds in the factory-farmed meat industry. Because of their high rate of growth these birds often experience organ failure and infections due to weakened immune systems. Combine that with over-populated chicken houses and less-than-ethical practices and most Cornish Rocks in this country have a miserable, abbreviated life.

Because of all these issues I had no intention of getting a meat bird, but when I was purchasing the chicks there was a constant peeping from a lonely little Cornish Rock chick. It was the sole occupant of it's bin. I'm a sucker. Yep, you know what happened.

Rock Star
She's the Janis Joplin of the coop.

Rock Star is a behemoth of a bird; she is at least 1/3 larger than her same-aged peers. She got that way because these birds are literally breed to eat all the time. There have been times that we've had to physically separate her from the food because she has overstuffed herself to the point of ill health. Because she's so large her legs have a hard time supporting her when she walks. So, she spends a significant amount of time on the side lines until she summons up the strength to walk...to the feeder. She eats because she is unhappy, and she's unhappy because she eats.

Raising Rock Star has been an eye-opening experience. We have provided her with the best care we could manage and still she is on the edge of suffering. I can only imagine how much worse off Cornish Rocks raised in factory chicken houses must be. She really does earn her name; the life of a rock star is to live fast and die young. Because of this learning experience, even Eowyn has mostly stopped eating chicken in restaurants (we won't buy chicken at the grocery store because of these and other problems with factory-raised chickens).

Ultimately, we will have to do the deed with Rock Star. She will be our first experience in home-butchered poultry. Until then, she's buying time sitting in her favorite spot - roosting in the entryway to the coop yard.

Of course, that means she's blocking the entrance of the coop for all the other chickens.

Sigh.

--Rational Mama

Spider-man + Strawberry Shortcake = Nom Nom

2011-05-27T11:41:00.000-05:00

(Apologies for the gap in posting...that's what happens when life gets too crazy and your camera memory is full and once you just suck it up and finally buy a new memory chip for the camera because you're not going to get around to printing all those old pics the camera battery completely dies and you have no idea which unpacked box holds the charger...)

So what do you get when you cross one of Marvel comics' leading men, an early 80's children's cartoon, and a symbol of the 1960's Pan-Indian movement? You get this:

One part Spider-man, one part dream catcher, three parts awesome.
(Thanks to the lovely L.P. for the photo!)

One of the really cool things we acquired with the new house is a strawberry patch located between the house and the chicken coop. It is approximately six feet by nine feet in dimension.

I've been interested in growing strawberries before, but we never had enough space to devote to this spreading perennial. So this spring was my first journey into strawberries wrangling, and I admit that my berry knowledge is pretty slim. I had read about problems with birds stealing ripe fruit, so I asked my country-wise coworker if netting was the solution. She replied that netting could be a nuisance because it must be removed and reinstalled every time you pick berries and the netting can become clogged with soggy leaves. She recommended a stick-and-string method that sounded like a cross between Spider-man and a dream-catcher gone wrong.

On a nice April afternoon Sissy and I headed out to the strawberry patch with 30 sticks (each approximately 10 inches long) and two spools of white utility string. We evenly space the sticks around the patch and then began wrapping the string around the sticks as we crisscrossed over the patch. According to my coworker, birds won't bother the strawberries because of the risk of getting their wings stuck in the strings. But, unlike netting, the strings don't have to be removed to pick the berries.

The above photo is of the patch approximately 1 1/2 weeks after we busted out our mad macrame skills.

The girls were concerned that the plants would grow up and over the string, thus voiding any protection from the Spidey-catcher-thingy. I was hopeful that since the plants were putting on fruit when we made the string structure that they would focus their energy on growing fruit, rather than growing taller plants.

Here's what the patch looks like today:

Can't you just feel the three parts awesome?

It's a bit more overgrown than I expected, but has it worked? The first ripened strawberries started glowing red a little over a week ago and I have not yet observed any birds in the strawberry patch, so that's very encouraging. Every few days we go out and pick the strawberries and up until a few days ago we'd only be getting a small handful each time.

But recently we started getting this:

My hands are really the size of Canadian loonies, so those are some giant strawberries. Or not.

That's on overflowing bowl of fresh, pesticide-free, locally-grown strawberries! We've been getting a heaping bowlful every few days this week. Of course, picking the strawberries in Spider-man's dream-catcher is a bit of a masochistic game of Twister, and I'm quite thankful that our nearest neighbors are far enough away so as to not enjoy a front row seat to that dance.

I've been trying to walk the line between having enough fresh strawberries to eat and packing some away in the freezer for a future batch of jam.

Oh, and a few of the strawberries have had small critter-bites out of them...most likely from our own Mickey Mouse that isn't thwarted by String City. Those strawberries, however, are given to the chickens so nothing is wasted.

In the meantime, I'm dreaming of which strawberry jam I'll make when we have enough strawberries. Last year's delicious strawberry-ginger jam? Or something else?

Do you have a favorite strawberry jam recipe?

--Rational Mama

Ohai!

2011-05-27T06:50:00.002-05:00

Ohai!

We're still here. Apologies for the delay between posts, but the last month has been a doozy.

There's many things to update you on: strawberries, chickens, the garden, car accidents and gas-guzzling rental cars, missing dogs and more. I hope to start chipping away at this list shortly.

Thanks for your patience!

--Rational Mama

Summer, Post-Rationing

2011-05-08T21:17:00.003-05:00

Summer in the plains is officially here.

Today temperature was flirting with 90 degrees, and that's not the heat index. With the muggy air conditions the "feel" of the temperature was definitely in the mid-90s. It brings back memories of last year...

Last year at this time we were sweating it out, literally, as part of our rationing experiment. Trying to stay true to the period, we vowed to do our best to not run the air-conditioner in our house or cars all summer long. This meant frequent cooling showers, lots of fans, and lost sleep due to sticky sheets and misery. Eventually we caved in late June which, surprisingly, was the energy-efficient thing to do.

But this year, we are not rationing (well, unless you call reducing the square footage of your house in half rationing). And tonight near bedtime it was absolutely miserable in the house; temperature near 86 degrees and humidity level over 60%.

So friends, the air-conditioner is now on. And in all honesty it feels really, really wonderful.

--Rational Mama

The Punchline

2011-05-01T21:27:00.006-05:00

So, the previous post asked, "Why did the turkey cross the road?"

(If you haven't read that post go do that quickly, because this one will be much more interesting if you do. Okay, did it? Carry on.)

Apparently, this is why:

Trust me, there's six of 'em in there.

TMOTH was walking in the back half-acre one afternoon last week and startled a solo turkey hen out of the tall grass. This is most likely the solitary turkey hen I saw in the back half-acre the previous week, spending a good portion of her morning playing Near/Far with the red wagon. Upon further inspection ("Geez, that's weird - a turkey bedded down in the middle of the afternoon...") TMOTH found the above clutch of eggs. There were six eggs at that time and we were a little concerned that she (now dubbed "Gertrude") wouldn't come back.

A quick Internet search explained that a turkey hen will continue laying eggs/leave the nest unprotected until she has laid all her eggs. At that point she pops a squat and stays close for the twenty-some days it takes for the eggs to mature completely.

If you Google "pop a squat turkey" this is the first image that comes up. I don't even know where to start...

Since the typical clutch size for wild turkeys is 10 to 12 eggs, we hoped that Gertrude would come back. So we waited, and waited, and waited.

We never saw her return, but each day there was another egg added to the nest. The last positive count we had was nine eggs, and it seems that in the last two days she has settled down to stay in the nest, which means the count could easily be a total of 11 or 12 eggs. Only time will tell.

In the meantime, we're not going anywhere in the back-half acre for the next month. Maybe if we're good stewards we'll get to see some poults (the proper term for a baby turkey) before the end of May.

This is just what baby velociraptors looked like...except they're lacking the front claws, big eyes, and hunting pack.

Oh, and we still haven't seen Elsie, Hazel and Clarice lately. Maybe they've found their own nesting places?

--Rational Mama

Why Did the Turkey Cross the Road?

2011-04-23T19:46:00.000-05:00

Have you ever seen a wild turkey in the flesh before? It's a sight that will leave you speechless in mid-sentence. They're sooo prehistoric looking, with their long necks, big eyes, and neck-waggling shuffle. Looking at a wild turkey I have no doubts that modern birds and dinosaurs have a common ancestor.

This is just what a velociraptor looked like...except it's lacking the front claws, big eyes, and hunting pack.

What I didn't know was just how darn entertaining wild turkeys could be.

Several times a week a member of the Rational Living household will spot at least one wild turkey at the new homestead. In the mornings we frequently see them wandering up from the south, following the dry creek that forms the western part of our property. They then cut across our grounds to the northeast corner and continue their journeys elsewhere.

Our regular visitors are typically either a trio of hens or a solitary hen. It is great fun to run a commentary, a la MST3K, of their antics. To do this I recommend using soft English accents, similar to your favorite Masterpiece Theatre viewings. After all, animals are funnier when they have English accents. Also, I'm pretty sure that deep down inside all the hens are prim and proper ladies that would, if acceptable in avian circles, wear conservative hats and carry modest hand bags (if they had hands). Keep all this in mind.

What all the fashionable wild turkey hens will be carrying this fall.
And they definitely won't be talking about this turkey purse (I learn something new every day).

Last week the trio of hens, lined up in single file, were walking along the edge of the back half-acre when two of them ducked under the barbed-wire fence and headed east towards other pastures. The last one in the row? It was as if she was daydreaming and didn't realize the others had left. She just kept walking straight north, parallel to the barbed-wire fence, bobbing her neck in oblivion. Once the two east-bound hens were about 20 feet from the fence they stopped and had a little conversation (at least that's what it looked like).

"Oh dear, Hazel. Elsie's missing again."

"She probably kept walking to the north. Poor thing, she'd find her way to Minnesota if we didn't keep her on track."

"I suppose one of us should go get her."

"Yes, Clarice. One of us should go get her."

"Well, if you're not going to volunteer I suppose I'll run after her."

And with that one of the hens hurriedly shuffled west, slid under the fence, and headed north where she joined up with the daydreamer.

"Elsie, dear?"

"Yes? Did you notice the wild rose bushes up ahead, too, Clarice? Aren't they beautiful?"

"No, dear. We need to be heading east now."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes, dear. Let's duck under the fence now, shall we?"
"But where is Hazel?"
"She's waiting for us on the other side of the fence."
"How did she get there already? Really, one must not be hasty!"

Elsie and Clarice both headed east, ducking under the fence and rejoined with Hazel.

On a different day, late in the morning, I spotted a solitary turkey hen in the back half-acre. She was walking north along the western border when she abruptly turned south and waddled straight to where the broken red wagon rested near the chicken manure. She spent a good minute surveying the scene: "Ah yes...red wagon, manure...clearly someone was hauling manure and had an accident." After a minute she quickly headed in a different direction, ready to be on with her business.

But once she was about 15 feet from the wagon she stretched her wings, spun around, and ran back to the wagon. Again she looked the place over. "Oh dear, I never even thought to look for chickens! There could be an injured chicken needing assistance!" After a minute of looking soothed her worries, the hen pulled herself away to leave.

Again, after about 15 feet of travel, she suddenly turned and ran back to the wagon. "Of course there aren't any chickens...chickens couldn't pull this wagon! I must look and make sure there isn't an injured human needing assistance!" The hen looked around the wagon again, head held both high and low for full perspective. After a minute of looking ruled out any humans with wagon-related injuries, she turned to head away.

Once 15 feet away the hen changed course and headed back to the wagon. And looked. And then left only to repeat the cycle again. And again. In all, she repeated this pattern at least eight times.

"Maybe if I go away and come back the magical number of times the mystic Indian maiden will appear and I can pull her red wagon across the sky like Freyja's cats pulling her golden chariot towards Valhalla."

I'm not sure if she wanted to determine if the wagon could be fixed ("Oh dear, the wheel completely separated from the axle...tsk, tsk"), if she was suffering from short-term memory loss ("Could it be? Another pretty red wagon!"), or if she was enjoying the best game of near/far ever ("The wagon is near...the wagon is far!"). I nearly choked on my tea, laughing as I watched from the kitchen window. Determined to take a picture, I grabbed the camera and headed outside. By the time I reached the back half-acre she was gone.

Who knew that turkeys could be so entertaining? I'm definitely looking forward to the next episode.

--Rational Mama

Pretty Pretty

2011-04-18T12:31:00.003-05:00

When we first moved into the new house the trees had yet to bloom and show their true colors.

Initially, I thought the smallish, twisted tree just outside the bathroom window was a redbud, like its neighbor.

I was wrong.

Such pretty pink blossoms!

--Rational Mama

Chickens!

2011-04-16T16:48:00.001-05:00

Friends, I can pinpoint the exact moment I decided I wanted to someday have my own small flock of chickens.

It was way back in the late summer of 1996. TMOTH and I, fresh newlyweds (we married young and there wasn't even a shotgun involved) took advantage of a nice morning by riding our bikes up and down the hills of central and east Lawrence. Or rather, coasting down and huffing and puffing up the hills of central and east Lawrence. Eventually, we found ourselves at the property of my then academic advisor, who owned a decent two acre spread at the junction of where "town" and "country" met. My advisor showed us around his old farmhouse and garden and introduced us to his small flock of chickens.

My recollection is that there were a dozen hens of various breeds, frolicking and clucking happily in the large fenced yard surrounding the coop. It was clear that each and every hen had her own personality, and their proud owner gestured and described their behaviors and antics as they came our way. The birds were so pretty and quirky and I immediately fell in love.

It was that night, as we settled down into our small, married student housing apartment, that I first spoke to TMOTH about wanting chickens someday. We had already established dreams a small homestead, so chickens fit quite well into that plan. But that plan was sooooo far out it was hard to believe that "someday" would ever actually happen.

Fifteen years later, friends, I finally have chickens.

After acquiring a ready chicken coop in the move to the new house we were initially on the fence as to how to approach the chicken issue. Just for eggs, or meat, too? Chicks or pullets? Small flock or large flock? Rooster or no rooster?

Recognizing that we have so much to accomplish to complete even basic tasks before seasonal deadlines (prepare the garden, clean and repair the coop, etc.) we decided that whatever approach we took this year we would NOT do a big straight run order for the production of meat. We still weren't sure, however, if we wanted to dedicate ourselves to the raising of chicks, or if we'd just try to snag a few pullets off of Craigslist.

And then, the day of the first big coop cleaning, the girls and I went to one of the local farm supply stores...and they had chicks.

Dammit if chicks aren't so cute.

After cooing and handling and talking for a good while the girls and I left the store with an understanding that later in the week (when a new shipment of dual purpose chicks came in) we'd head back and buy around 10 chicks for our own flock. We'd consider keeping one rooster, but any extra roosters and possibly up to five other chicks would eventually become dinner.

But then the next day I stopped at another local farm supply store for chick supplies and they had plenty of chicks. In fact, they were expecting another shipment of chicks the next day, and so were needing to sell some of their dual purpose chicks.

I'm such a sucker.

Bird's eye view of the chicks at one week of age.

I came home with six sex-linked laying standards (guaranteed hens), four straight-run "feathered" variety dual purpose chicks and one Cornish Rock (straight run). For those counting, that's 11 total birds, with six guaranteed hens and five possible roosters.

Wait, maybe this is also technically a bird's eye view...

The addition of a Cornish Rock was a bit of a surprise, since I don't like the possibly unethical growth-rate of it and similarly-bred "meat" birds. But it was the only one left in it's tank...and I'm a sucker.

So now several times a day we're checking on the chicks in the basement (it's still too cold to move them out to the coop, which still needs work anyway). We change their pine bedding every other day and have to freshen their water several times a day, as it is apparently great fun to stuff the waterer with pine bedding. It's amazing how quickly even the dual purpose chicks grow, and almost concerning how quickly the Cornish Rock is growing. They each have their own personalities, and most of them have acquired names via the girls.

The chicks at two weeks of age. Keep an eye on that black one perched on the food - she's watching...always watching...

As a homestead-experienced co-worker summed up, "It sounds like you have pets, not chickens." That may be true for the time being, but things may change as the chicks become more independent and roosters start to defend their territory. Eventually, a spare rooster having a bad day becomes dinner.

In the meantime, we better get hustling on the coop since the days will be warming and these little peepers can be awfully loud (especially at night). We'll be putting up new roosts, rehabbing nests boxes and getting the pine bedding ready for the deep litter method.

Let the chicken fun begin!

--Rational Mama

It's a Dirty Job: Cleaning Out the Chicken Coop

2011-04-15T08:28:00.000-05:00

Lately, the sun has been shining and daytime temperatures have gotten well into "shorts weather," as the girls refer to it. We've been listening to the woodpecker pecking away at a new nest opening and at night (and sometimes during the day) we could hear frogs chirping down in the dry creek. Clearly, spring was here, which could only mean one thing...
It was time to clean out the chicken coop in preparation for our own chickens.

Grade A spiderwebs, no?

I knew this wouldn't exactly be an easy task, since, based on the accumulated..."debris"...in the coop it appeared that the previous owner postponed the last scheduled cleaning of the coop in anticipation of his own move. Now we were stuck with an overdue coop and when I mentioned cleaning it to TMOTH he said, "Have fun with that."

Whatever, the girls were excited about getting chickens so I knew they would help me. Right?

In light of the thriving population of mice inhabiting the coop (and the possibility of hantavirus) I decided safety was the best approach and declared that anyone helping with the coop clean-out would need to wear a long sleeve shirt, long pants, a handkerchief over their hair, washable shoes, eye protection, work gloves and a disposable face mask. I take contactable zoonotic pulmonary viruses seriously.

Ready for hantavirus...and Ebolavirus, just in case.

Unfortunately, I chose the warmest morning in nearly six months to undertake this project, which meant once I announced that today was THE day for the project the girls were no longer interested in helping me and instead decided the rope swing was feeling neglected.

Funny that I should feel like the Little Red Hen while cleaning the coop, no?

Today is a good day to shovel.

Anyway, I started by using a broom to sweep down the copious amounts of spider webs (and dust) and then moved on to the shoveling. I began shoveling next to the coop door, and the loads had a certain satisfying cleaving pattern. Based on how quickly that section went I was sure I'd be done in no time.

Of course, since I'm new to chickens it never really occurred to me that the worst part would be under the roosts. By the time I got back there I was melting and the goggles were fogging up (not to mention, the claustrophobia was kicking in). Unlike the area near the door, under the roosts was a good five-to-six inch moist and smelly layer waiting for me. Ugh.

Suddenly the shovel loads were not quite as satisfying.

I had been placing my shovel loads into our old plastic wagon, which straddled the coop door. We don't yet have a wheel barrow so this was the next best thing. Unfortunately, I filled the first load so heavily that the wagon's bulging sides lodged the wagon in the door frame. So...I had to squat (nearly putting my face in the wagon contents) to lift the load up and over the door threshold.

Don't overfill your wagon or wheelbarrow, people. Lesson learned.

My plan was to dump the wagon contents in a corner of the back half-acre, since the manure was still too "hot" to add directly to a garden. Unfortunately, the path required for that plan meant that I would have to pull the 100+ pound wagon of manure uphills several hundred feet.

Change of plans.

I decided to dump the wagon contents at a closer corner of the back half-acre which would require uphill pulling only after the wagon had been emptied. Genius! Well, genius except for the part where I forgot to get my foot out of the way before switching directions.

After getting the first load dumped (and being thoroughly drenched in sweat and dust by now) I decided that my goal to finish emptying the coop that day may not happen. Instead, I resolved myself to get at least three wagon loads out.

And three loads it was because after the dumping the third load I realized that a wagon wheel had broken. Sometimes the universe helps you stick to your plans.

Wagon broken. Watch out for the cholera.

A week later (and on a much cooler day) I finished up the worst of the coop cleaning. Now we just have to hose everything down, replace the roosts and get bedding, feeders and waterers installed.

And, of course, get chickens. Which we may or may not already have...because sometimes I'm not a very patient person.

--Rational Mama

Zen (Hay)Fever

2011-04-10T21:18:00.005-05:00

I just took my first spin on mowing the back yard, which is just under an acre. I used the riding lawn mower (the first time I've used such equipment), and after a few learning hiccups everything fell in to place.

With the pretty sunset and pleasant breeze (and noise canceling headphones) it was actually quite a pleasant activity.

It was kinda like doing one of those Zen sand garden thingies. But louder. And with gasoline.

And with little bits of grass going up your nose and in your eyes.

Can't wait to do it again.

--Rational Mama

Schnauzer Action!

2011-04-07T10:37:00.000-05:00

Duh!

Who needs a mouser when you have a miniature schnauzer?

The bad-ass skull-and-crossbones sweater intimidates the mice.

It's what Schnau-Dog has been bred for, and he's definitely game. Now that he's figured out that there are mice in the coop, he struts past it, on guard, ready to pounce.

And he's already earned his keep, if you know what I mean.

--Rational Mama

Carnival Appliances

2011-04-05T22:27:00.000-05:00

Remember the appliance rules of the rationing project?

We're still kinda following them.

When we moved in to the new house we needed to purchase a refrigerator and a riding lawn mower. Our budget was tight and we hated the idea of purchasing new items when gently used options were available at a reduced cost.

So we headed to the local used appliance store. Okay, "used appliance store" doesn't do this place justice. Those of you in T-town know what I mean. Back in the olden days (you know, before "T.J. Hooker"), this place used to be a local carnival, with rides and refreshments and toothless barkers offering to guess your weight (why, oh why, so people pay for something like that?). But then times changed and local carnivals went the way of, well, "T.J. Hooker" and the place shut down.

And then it reopened as the most bizarre flea market type store in northeast Kansas. Seriously, the creepy smiling clowns are still on the side of the building and the toothless barkers are now inside, smoking their cigarettes and asking if they can help you find something. Chances are, if you need something you can find a used version here. Ashtray? Yup. Jig-saw? You can chose from 20 on the shelf. Coffee table? Some of them already have coffee stains! Life-sized R2D2 cooler? Got it! (Damn, I need to get back and get that...).

There are some great finds, but there's plenty of...well...junk. Some of the furniture looks like it needs a hefty dose of duct tape and glue and I am still freaked out at the thought of buying a used mattress (damn you, incessant national media stories on bed bugs). But you can't help but look, and look, and look. Oh, and try not to step on one of the cats that roam the store.

Outside, sprawling in front of the store and across a good section of the parking lot, is a six-foot chain-link fence that encloses most of the lawn and garden equipment: weed-eaters, birdbaths, wheelbarrows, lawn mowers, shovels, lawn chairs, window panes, storm doors...you get the idea. There we found a 16.5 horsepower, 42" deck riding lawnmower with low hours for a price less than what was available on Craigslist.

Inside, in the back of the store, there are several rows of appliances. Now, since we moved the oven from the old house, I wanted a white fridge to match. Unfortunately, all of the white refrigerators they had were scary - severely dented doors, peeling paint and inside shadows reminiscent of a Zuul, the Gatekeeper of Gozer possession. So, I went with a cream-colored Kenmore model slightly bigger than our previous fridge. The best part? It was about 1/3 the cost of a new model with similar bells and whistles.

Now, TMOTH and I both agreed that once finances settle down from all the new house purchases we'd like to replace the refrigerator with a newer, white, Energy-Star rated refrigerator. But in the meantime, we'll be all anti-Martha and take pride in our used, totally mismatched appliances.

Coordinated kitchens are soooo overrated...at least, they are for the next year.

--Rational Mama

Mouser Wanted!

2011-04-04T14:03:00.000-05:00

Yeah, so remember those mole holes I wrote about?

Apparently, not all of them are for moles.

We've known since we moved in that there is a bit of a mouse problem in the chicken coop. The previous owner didn't clean out the coop for quite some time (duuuuude, like, a really really long time) and so the floor is a solid mixture of chicken poop and grain. This, apparently, is some sort of mice heaven. A few weeks ago TMOTH quietly sat in the coop for five minutes and he swears he saw 17 separate mice. Ugh.

I assume that once we clean out the coop and acquire our own chickens that the mice will move on and seek other avenues, as their food source will be significantly reduced and the chickens themselves will deter the mice. So, in the meantime, there's been a bit of a truce.

But yesterday I was walking behind the coop and apparently interrupted some sort of mouse convention, as a good half-dozen fled from the holes in the grass to the coop. Say what?

Oh dear, the mice aren't just in the coop...they're in the lawn. Which means they could move into the house and/or the garden.

Oh dear...

--Rational Mama

The Spread...and A Little Help Needed

2011-04-03T17:30:00.001-05:00

Hello, readers! Ready for the tour of the new place?

The general description of the new spread is that it is a backwards-L-shaped lot, encompassing 2.58 acres which host a small house, detached double garage, potting shed and chicken coop. This land, north of the Kansas River, was once under several hundred feet of ice during the Quaternary glacial period (we've found several exposed Sioux quartzite stones on the property, deposited by said glacier).

The acreage is divided roughly into three sections, which we generally refer to as the yard, the west acre, and the back half-acre (we need to work on some creative names, huh?)

"The Yard"

The yard is roughly an acre in size and is bordered on the south by the road which serves as our entrance to the property. There is a modest front lawn between the road and the house where a nice, large sycamore dominates the view.

The House

Just to the west of the house is a detached two-car garage with a small workshop area. On the west side of the garage is a trio of walnut trees and the large oak tree that supports the rope swing.

The back lawn sprawls out north behind the house and garage and is dotted with cedar and redbud trees (and mole holes).

The back yard, as viewed from the back door of the house.

A small potting shed sits halfway between the house and the chicken coop, which is sheltered by a mulberry tree.

The chicken coop.

To the east of the chicken coop is the established garden area, which is roughly 25 feet by 12 feet. In general, the yard has a gentle slope down towards the west acre.

View of the backyard from the north (looking back towards the house and garage). The garden is in the foreground.

"West Acre"
The west acre is an expanse of pasture that slopes downhill towards the western border of the property, which is a dry creek. There are more walnut trees and saplings in the dry creek (along with some frogs).

The west acre. The row of trees in the middle of the picture marks the location of the dry creek.

The dry creek becomes a wet creek when the watershed pond just barely north of our property fills with water. We hope to turn a significant portion of the west acre into space for blackberries and apple trees.

"Back Half-Acre"
The back half-acre is another pasture zone that is completely fenced in four-wire barbed wire and accessible by two gates. It sits directly north of the yard.

The back half-acre, as viewed from the eastern border. The clump of trees on the right marks the location of the watershed pond.
(The blue tarp is for a gardening project)

The back half-acre, like rest of the property, slopes gently towards the west and the dry creek. There is a small lean-to shed in the northwest corner (just beyond which is the watershed pond mentioned above). TMOTH has big plans to sculpt and mold this area into a series of raised-bed gardens spots with paths and benches.

"The Name"
Most folks who have a small homestead come up with some sweet and/or clever name for their property. We've tried, but not generated any tag or title that we all really love. "Dry Creek Acres?" Boring. "Glacier Hills?" Hmm... "Victory Acres?" Pulls in the rationing project but sounds like Amy Winehouse's next stop.

So, dear readers...any name suggestions for the property?

--Rational Mama

Swingin'

2011-04-02T07:39:00.000-05:00

One of the promises TMOTH made to the girls when discussing the move was to install a rope swing on the giant oak tree just south of the garage.

Never was there a better use of $35.

So simple, so retro. On these nice warm days they practically live on that thing.

--Rational Mama

There is a Mole (or a Few Dozen) Among Us...

2011-03-31T20:45:00.000-05:00

Now that the snow has cleared (and will hopefully stay away), we've been walking the grounds at the new house dreaming and scheming lots of plans for the future. We'll put apple trees there to the west, blackberries on the far side of the garage, a three-part compost system behind the garage, the bonfire pit north of the chicken coop...

The established garden plot is roughly 25 feet by 12 feet, and our intentions are to expand this plot by a good section every year. This year, however, we will limit our garden production to the established plot since we have lots of things vying for our attention (like, say, all those boxes that have yet to unpack themselves - what's up with that?).

A quick view of the garden plot shows that it's in pretty good shape except for these:

Sticking your hand inside it is a rite of passage, just like in Flash Gordon.

This is an example of the few holes present in the garden (keys are included for scale). There's less than a handful of these in the actual garden space, but there's a couple dozen just like them scattered throughout the yard. In general, the hole is roughly two inches in diameter.

TMOTH initially suggested that they were caused by moles. Like anvils and dynamite, I learned all I know about moles from cartoons. This left me with an understanding that they're as big as our miniature schnauzer, have spiky noses and sometimes wear glasses. Because of that understanding, I figured that these holes were too small to be made by moles.

I forgot to mention the shovel and overalls...

A quicky Google search revealed the error of my knowledge - moles are small! Like, rat-size small! I had no idea. According to the University of Kansas Field Station website (from which the below photo originated), what we most likely have are eastern moles. They are mostly solitary (thank goodness, I had envisioned a city of moles under our property, vis a vis The Secret of NIMH) and primarily eat grubs and earthworms.

I don't understand...where are his glasses?

From speaking with local gardeners, they are also darn near impossible to get rid of. Sigh.

Up to now the only major threats I had to protect our garden from were squirrels (acquired a dog that scared off the squirrels) and the dog (acquired a garden fence that kept the dog out). I'm not battle ready when it comes to "varmints."

Apparently, there's a multitude of really nasty and questionably effective approaches to dealing with moles (pouring boiling water down the tunnels, claw traps at tunnel openings, poison), but I'm not willing to use such options due to their inhumane aspects and the fact that children and pets will be using the yard as well. This basically leaves two options...coating their tunnel openings with Castor oil (it gets on their fur, tastes bad and might give them an upset stomach which, supposedly, makes them move on) and/or getting rid of their food source.

Since their food sources are grubs and worms, this means applying some nasty chemicals to the yard (which is definitely not our preference), or applying beneficial nematodes, which are small, specialized worms that eat the grubs. Apparently, the moles won't the nematodes, which is good because the beneficial nematodes aren't exactly cheap.

Either way we better get crakin' on this problem, since we still have to address the deer and rabbit interlopers as well.

Sigh.

--Rational Mama

Turning Off Niagara Falls

2011-03-29T21:12:00.000-05:00

When we were calling around to the local utility companies to change over names on the accounts for the new house, the task of calling the water department fell to me.

While the house has a septic system it is, in fact, on city water and so one Monday morning I called the water folks and gave them our names and the dates of the transfer. Curiosity got the best of me and I asked the polite county employee on the other end of the line what the average water usage was at the new house. Since the previous owners were a young couple sans children (and thus, half the size of our household, half the laundry and half the toilet flushing...), I fully expected their average usage to be noticeably under our average.

So, I was understandably floored when the average number of gallons she provided was nearly 40% more than our average at the old house.

That didn't make any sense. I expressed as much and she gave me the readings for their last four months of usage. Hmmm...how and why would they be using so much more water than us?

TMOTH pondered how much extra watering they did of their (larger) garden, but that wouldn't have been the source for the readings shared, since they were taken in the winter. A good 10 minutes of head scratching had us no closer to a cause, so we tabled the discussion and figured we'd have our epiphany sometime after moving in to the new house.

That epiphany moment came at roughly 6:05am on our first morning in the new house. Up early that morning to get ready for work, I headed to the bathroom to take a shower. The shower is one of those riser extensions off of a claw foot tub and after a few tweaks and alterations to get the temperature just right I turned the appropriately labeled "shower" knob to the left.

Holy Niagara Falls! If you're old enough to remember the "good ol' days" of Nickelodeon and the familiar shoulder arch/facial expression of someone getting slimed, then you have a good reference for the impact the massive amounts of water had on this shower occupant. This was definitely NOT a modern, reduced water flow shower head.

Is this slime biodegradable? Because we're on a greywater system.

We had found our mystery water hog.

This shower head was definitely retro old-school in every way possible, including spray surface area and water output. Pure steel construction made us think that it's the original shower head, which would date it to around 1957. Ah, post-war American...when gluttonous consumption of resources following mandatory rationing was the norm. But an engraving at the base of the head says that it has an output of 2.5 gallons of water per minute, which is technically within modern ranges...

As invigorating as the shower was, eco-guilt got the best of me and within a few days I brought this home:

Not only is it eco-responsible, it gives you the excuse to repeatedly say "Power in your Shower!" in a Mr. T voice.

To conserve water and energy, all residential and most commercial shower heads sold in the U.S. must flow less than or equal to 2.5 gallons per minute. This criteria hit the books in 1992, and since then there's been a sort of black-market for high-output models of the past, fed by the demands of consumers who want that slime-bucket effect.

Better yet, uber-efficient shower heads identified as low flow must have an output of 2.0 gallons per minute or less. The model I chose above, according to Internet resources, has a flow rate of 1.5 gallons per minute which is quite sensible, especially when combined with the handy toggle button that will shut the stream down to a trickle (but keep your temperature steady) for when you're lathering and shaving.

So how is it? Slightly less invigorating but definitely less guilt-inducing. And really, who needs that kind of "I'm killing the world" guilt at 6:00am? Plus, all the resources and money we're saving will definitely allow for the shower to pay for itself within a few months.

But what to do with the old shower head? We could sell it on e-Bay to some desperate bather wanting a higher flowing shower head, but that would seem a tad bit contradictory. According to my food scale, the old shower head is close to two pounds of solid steel...at current scrap prices it could net us a whopping $1.40.

Man, think of all the things we could we do with those kinds of Benjamins!

--Rational Mama

Operation Muffin Top

2011-03-27T08:38:00.001-05:00

As many of you are aware, when we first started the "new house" journey, we were looking at up-sizing from our 1,600 square foot American Foursquare to a 2,000+ square foot bungalow.

The "Old" House

In this new house Sissy and Eowyn would each have their own bedroom and the two and a half bathrooms would allow plenty of privacy for all. Not to mention the extra bedroom and basement space for guests and arts/crafts. We were going to be living in high (modest) style - a room for every person and then some. We were going to be bigger and better.

But as we got further into the rationing project we realized that expanding into the bigger house was actually quite contrary to the spirit of the project. Helloooo - wasn't a big part of that project to learn to live with just enough - and not too much? Did we actually need the additional space, or did we just want it? And did we really want the extra rooms, or had society tried to convince us that we did? Just like they've tried to convince me that I want a mega-grande latte espresso every morning...(Ha! Take that society! I make my own fair-trade cup of coffee in mah house!)

"I'd like to trade these vegetable juice ration coupons for a mega-grande-latte-mocha with whip cream and an extra shot, please."

A few weeks of soul searching led us to the resolution that what we wanted was extra space. But rather than extra rooms (that would need to be heated and cleaned and furnished and...), we wanted extra outside space - to expand our gardens, add chickens to the list of household critters (and food supply), and provide a haven for the girls to play and discover nature like no city dwelling could. And, we decided, we were willing to sacrifice house size to accomplish this dream.

We would downsize.

This, my friends, is basically unheard of among our peers. Society tells us that downsizing is for retirees with empty nests, not for young, active families.

It was challenging to find the right small house/modest sized land/appropriate price combination. Most options on the market were either fixer uppers (in that scary, end-of-"The Blair Witch Project" kind of way), way too small and/or ridiculously expensive. Eventually, we found the right match (960 square feet, solid construction, 2.58 acres), and it's into this house that we moved last week.

The "New" House

Moving is always a process in patience, and for this move we had to start planning months in advance. We knew that we would be downsizing from 1620 square feet of living space (plus a full basement and walk-up attic) to 960 square feet of living space (full basement and no attic). The smaller house was efficiently designed with decent-sized closets and storage, but with an overall smaller footprint and no attic things were going to get tight, fast.

The house has only two bedrooms, so we knew the girls would be sharing the (modest) master bedroom while we took over the (very, umm..efficient) second bedroom. We knew that not all of our current furniture would fit in the new house, at least not in conventional ways. If we tried to shove all our current furnishings into the new house it'd be busting as the seems. Our house would have a muffin top.

Now, I'm not a big fan of the muffin top phenomenon. I have nothing against larger folks (indeed, I am one), but the practice of squeezing into too tight and too low pants is painful, and the jiggly extra spilling forth from the top is less than attractive. Same with the house - cramming too much furniture into too small of a space just wasn't going to be reasonable. Hence, I have no muffin top, and my house will not have one, either.

In order to make sense of it all and proceed with Operation Muffin Top we broke out the graph paper.

Seriously.

I went through the old house and got rough measurements of all the big furniture, then converted it to a scale of one square on the graph paper representing six inches. We then arranged, and rearranged, the furniture in the paper rooms, sketched out to scale.

And then walked away and came back a week later and arranged things again.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Ultimately, these were some of the realizations we came to:

The good-sized kitchen and bathroom would be our "comfort" rooms - with dimensions very similar to what we were used to there would be very few issues with space and storage.
Getting the full upright piano to fit in the living would take some creativity.
There was no way our expansive dresser would fit in our bedroom...it would have to go in the basement while we used a smaller, old hand-me-down from when Sissy was a baby.
The dining table would have to loose a leaf to fit comfortably in the dining room.
The girls' pet rats would not be able to use a spare bedroom for their location, so arrangements would have to be made to move them into the girls' room.
Since there is no spare room, we would upgrade from our 12 year old sofa and purchase a new hide-a-bed model for when guests stay over.
The workshop space in the detached garage would become TMOTH's man-craft cave (with space for the throwing wheel, kiln and such).
A portion of the basement would be converted to a rough-and-ready recreation room with the old t.v., old sofa and treadmill. Plus, a desk or two for crafting.

Of course, Operation Muffin Top hit full swing during the actual move last week. We're still trying to figure out a few key pieces - every once in a while I come across a box, scratch my head and ask "Where the heck will that go?" But we're getting there.

And come late spring we will have one heck of a garage sale.

--Rational Mama

Moving On

2011-03-20T16:30:00.000-05:00

We did it.

This was the week we made the big move to the little homestead.

Moving is always such a mixed bag of emotions...the purging of belongings, packing of memories, and finding closure with the old in the midst of excitement for the new.

And in the middle of all that poetry there's boxes, boxes, boxes. Boxes to find, boxes to move, boxes to haul up/down stairs, boxes to stack in tipsy-turvy Dr. Seussical fashion and boxes to (eventually) unpack.

We're dealing with those last two descriptions right now. Oh, how I loathe the house when it's in that "forest of cardboard" phase. It's a disaster zone that gets my special kind of crazy going. We spent 15 minutes this morning searching for clean socks and underwear. Seriously.

I've managed to get a few things unpacked, but there are still plenty of boxes to go through. And some things have made it out of their boxes but haven't yet transition to their permanent homes.

Everything is in transition, really...and that includes this blog.

Over the next few weeks you'll notice some changes to the Rational Living blog. Topics du jour will begin focusing on our efforts to live more sustainably on our small acreage, rather than our rationing experiment. There will still be plenty of history lessons as we learn how to expand our home canning, make cheese, raise chickens, make household goods rather than buy them new and the like.

Over the next few weeks, though, we'll be attempting to conquer the cardboard forest. And I imagine that one of the first "new" posts will review the in's and out's of downsizing from 1620 square feet to 940 square feet.

Possession purge, anyone?

--Rational Mama

Cyber Rational

2011-02-17T06:38:00.000-06:00

For anyone interested, here's the link to the online version of the article about our rationing project that was printed in the most recent edition of XYZ magazine.

--Rational Mama

Post-Rational Confession

2011-02-11T16:25:00.003-06:00

So, let's see...rationing has been over for almost seven weeks.

That's seven weeks of no points. Seven weeks of menu freedom. Seven weeks of everything in the grocery store beckoning to us as potential purchases.

But I can't bear to toss out my menus/shopping lists for those seven weeks.

They're sitting in a pile near my rationing notes.

After recording all of our menus and grocery purchases every week for the rationing year I struggle with just throwing away that information for our post-rational life.

Maybe I can work up the courage, soon. After all, we'll be moving to the new house shortly - surely that will be a good time to purge seemingly worthless papers.

Right?

--Rational Mama

P.S. They'll be more post-rational thoughts to post on the blog, now that my self-imposed hiatus from blogging is over.

Reading Material

2010-12-30T10:47:00.002-06:00

If you have a chance (and are in the Topeka area), grab a copy of the winter issue of XYZ magazine.

On pages 40 and 41 you'll find a short and sweet article about the rationing project!

--Rational Mama

Victory Meal!

2010-12-27T16:28:00.000-06:00

How did we celebrate the completion of our year-long rationing project?

With a victory dinner, of course!

What? You expected something else?

--Rational Mama

Look What Santa Put in the Stockings

2010-12-26T17:30:00.003-06:00

Ribena!

One for each little girl. It will be a very blackcurrant-y holiday.

--Rational Mama

Rational Top Ten

2010-12-24T10:00:00.000-06:00

Can you believe it? Tomorrow is the last day of rationing! Since tomorrow will be filled with family gatherings and festivities we thought we'd highlight what we think are the top ten highlights from the rationing year (in no particular order).

Here goes!

1. Realizing, midway through the first month, that we had been allowing ourselves too many blue/green points. Like, 75% too many.

2. The recipes! Without the rationing project as an excuse there is no way we would have even dreamed of making jellied ham loaf or beef heart kabobs. The historic recipes have encompassed the good (nutburgers, victory pancakes), the bad (six layer dinner, full o'bologney, sausage loaf), and the ugly (hot cabbage slaw and...)

3. Liver. Really, even though it's an historic recipe and could be listed above it deserves a solitary mention. Nothing, nothing, we ate during the rationing year made the same impression as liver. If you've never read this post you really should.

Oh, thank goodness we didn't have to try this!

4. After a good four or five years of discussion we finally installed an attic (or whole house) fan. This was critical because of our decision to...

5. Sweat it out during the summer by not turning on the air conditioner in the house. It turned out to be one of the hottest summers in the past decade and even with the attic fan and other remedies (cool baths, oscillating fans, popsicles, etc.) we were miserable. Sticking to your sheets and running out of deodorant miserable. Eventually, we caved and turned on the air conditioner. In the end, this was probably the best decision because...

6. We learned that running the attic fan, ceiling fans and oscillating fans along with the dehumidifier used just as much energy as if we had run the air conditioner in the first place. So I guess you could say that sweating it out over a month of summer heat was a miserable but beneficial learning experience.

7. Local fruit. Man oh man, you just can't beat the fresh blackberries, apples, pears, strawberries and mulberries we munched on this summer. And we even have some extra blackberries in the freezer for the long winter months!

8. When a bottle of ketchup costs nearly half of a week's worth of rationing points, nothing says "Suck it, rationing system!" quite like making your own ketchup. Let's face it - ketchup is not a necessity, it's a luxury. Having the ability to make your own (and control the ingredients) is definitely a guilty pleasure. I don't know if we'll ever buy commercially-prepared ketchup again.

9. Having regular commentators from the all across the United States, the U.K. (especially you, Mr. Graham), Eastern Europe, Canada and visits (per traffic reports) from every continent except Antarctica made Rational Living a truly international community. Kinda seems fitting since the real-life scenarios the project was based on included an international community as well.

10. Even with all the planning required by the rationing project and the huge learning curve experienced in the first few months, no other micro-project during the rationing year was harder that the week we followed U.K. rations. The plan was actually to go two weeks on U.K. rations but the meager servings and food limitations (along with nearly constant hunger complaints from the girls) made us cave at the end of the first week. That week was actually a big turning point for the project, as it really hit home that our voluntary, meager rations (and hunger) were choices for us, whereas plenty on this earth have less than that due to circumstances beyond their control.

And, of course...reader feedback on the blog always made our day. This project wouldn't have been nearly as interesting if we didn't have the helpful and insightful comments from YOU. Thanks for sticking with us through the entire project. This blog will continue on, but we're not quite sure as to the content and form. Stay tuned.

So, are there any other scenarios that we missed that you would have included in a top ten?

--With Love, from the Rational Living family

Review: Meat Me on Rationing Day

2010-12-22T18:00:00.000-06:00

Friends, this may be the most controversial post in the long string of posts that is Rational Living.

Eating is, after all, one of the most intimate things we can do - both individually and as a group. People wax poetic over a fine meal, determine a grandmother's worth based upon her bread rolls and will defend the merits of a traditional menu until blue in the face.

We love to eat and we eat to show love. And Americans love meat.

Meat rationing was the most despised aspect of rationing during WWII. As outlined in the original "Meat Me on Rationing Day" post, red point rationing was designed to encourage Americans to eat less meat and, most importantly, to eat lower grades of meat. But Americans then, as now, loved their meat and governmental restrictions regarding meat purchases were met with great displeasure. During WWII, when Americans were polled as to which rationed products were hardest to cut down on or do without, the overwhelming response was meat (sugar was second, but with a considerably less enthusiastic response). Despite the War, Americans still wanted their steak and pot roast dinners. As a result, meat (particularly higher grade cuts of beef) was a popular black market item.

Flash forward over 60 years and you have our family starting our own year of rationing. At the beginning of the rationing year we already ate less meat as compared to the general American public; prior to the project meat was featured in dinners roughly three to four times a week and showed up in about half of the adult lunches). As such, meat restrictions as a result of rationing weren't felt as keenly by us as they may have been for other families. What meat shortages we did face were usually the result of market fluctuations or our self-imposed inclusion of poultry in the rationing program.

That said, we like our meat. Chicken, bacon, pork chops...we all have a strong appreciation for meat.

Which is why it's quite surprising that, at the conclusion of the rationing project we find ourselves a household of vegetarians.

Yes, you read that correctly. It wasn't the jellied ham loaf or the heart kabobs that turned us, it was the environmental and ethical consequences of animal farming.

One of the catalysts for the rationing project was a desire to live a more environmentally conscious and sustainable lifestyle. In one aspect, the rationing year has been an attempt to move beyond the "easy" practices of recycling and line-drying clothes and to dig deeper into ingrained practices and habits that need changing. Our goal was to find changes that could and should be made to reduce our carbon footprint and create a lifestyle that has a less harmful effect on people and the planet.

With that desire in mind, the hard reality is that factory farmed meat is the diametrical opposite of a sustainable practice. The waste runoff, habitat destruction and pollution caused by animal farming contributes more to global climate change than transportation. Think about it: meat production causes more environmental damage than all cars, planes, trains and boats combined - a whopping 40% more. A hybrid car is a great thing, but if your driving it to the local burger joint your doing more damage than you probably realize.

And then there's the ethics of meat production. Factory animal farming is notorious for using (and abusing) undocumented workers - creating workplace environments that constitute human rights violations. Meat processing at break-neck speeds endangers both the workers (meat processors have the highest on-the-job injury rate of any labor field) and endangers the public - E. coli outbreaks are the result of unsanitary practices resulting from factory processing (those bleach baths the meat takes before packaging don't kill everything). Cheap labor and fast processing promotes lower meat prices, but at a cost to humanitarian and health well-being.

Then, of course, there's the animals. I won't go in to the horrors of factory animal farming - there are plenty of available resources to educate you on that topic. And even if you make the commitment to purchase the more expensive, locally-raised meat there is still the slaughter to consider. Because most local slaughter facilities have been purchased ("bought out") by the large CAFO companies the likelihood that even your free-range, humanely treated animals experience a human slaughter is extremely slim.

So the only way for us to feel at peace with eating meat is to make sure the animals are treated respectfully during life and ensure that they had a humane slaughter. In the current system, the only way to guarantee both of those assertions is to have a direct part in both the raising and processing of the animal.

TMOTH and I both have strong opinions about having honest relationships with food: know what it is, where it came from and what it went through to be on your plate. This goes for meat, too, and is why when TMOTH hunts he only attempts a shot that is clear and direct and will cause the least suffering for the animal. It is also the reason why we process the venison ourselves.

But really, why should other meat be treated any differently?

Our new homestead will allow us, for the first time ever, the ability to raise our own animals for meat purposes. Whether we have the fortitude to raise an animal in an intimate setting and then slaughter it for food has yet to be determined. But know this about our beliefs: if we can't raise and slaughter it ourselves, then we shouldn't be eating it. Period.

And even the girls support this transition; even Sissy, the biggest carnivore of the family, has learned enough about factory animal farming to support this decision with maturity and understanding.

We know many, many readers will not agree with this choice. We're not telling you that you should be living by these same standards or judging your practices or insisting that our beliefs are better than yours.

We're just trying to live by our standards of what is right...and encourage you to live by your own.

--Rational Mama

P.S. For a thorough, even-handed examination of the implications of animal farming and eating meat, I highly recommend Jonathan Safran Foer's, "Eating Animals."

A Rational House

2010-12-21T10:29:00.002-06:00

What makes a rational house?

When this whole house business bloomed in early summer we thought we knew exactly what we wanted in our future house. We wanted at least three bedrooms (preferably a fourth bedroom for guests/crafts), a family room and a rec room, a fireplace or wood-burning stove and a larger yard. All this while managing to stay in the same high school district.

Mind you, we originally had no intentions of moving this year, so our current house (multi-story, American Foursquare) would just have to do. That meant that for a few more years we'd all shuffle routines to make the one bathroom work, the girls would continue to share a room (the third bedroom is quite small while their current room is ginormous), and our gardening dreams would be limited by the urban-ish green spot that is our yard.

But the house that originally got us into the moving spirit had all our above requirements, plus was sporting a flexible timetable and what was, at the time, a very pretty price tag. And so we shifted house-selling plans into high gear and put our house on the market.

But things with the potential house changed; poor communications, misunderstandings and delays. We started looking at other houses for comparison. By the time paperwork was drawn up on the original house it had become glaringly obvious that the asking price was far higher than the property was worth.

And so we did not complete a contract on the property.

What to do? After much nail-biting and lengthy pro-con lists we decided to keep our house listed on the market and (thanks to generous personal financiers) were able to continue looking at prospective houses. Many of the showings we visited during those first few months met our above criteria; bungalows with additions, ranches that stretched and grew. Many rooms, many options, but nothing ever grabbed us in a way that made us think that it was The One. After looking at house after house without getting any further in the process, TMOTH and I started to do some soul searching.

This entire year - the whole point of the rationing project - has been an exploration of wants vs. needs, experiencing what it is like to live our values (or at least give it an honest try). When it came to houses, what would be enough? What would fit our needs? Which of our wants were reasonable? What kind of house would allow us to live more in line with our values of environmental responsibility and sustainable practices?

What was really important?

Reexamining our current house with these thoughts in mind we discovered that, for the way we live, there are several areas of wasted space; we rarely use the kitchen nook, the spare bedroom and the gorgeous (but excessive) grand entryway. But not all space is bad - a large kitchen is important because of the amount of from-scratch cooking and home canning we produce. And a large yard would allow us to grow more of our own produce and possibly provide space for chickens(!).

Sharing bedrooms and bathrooms can be an inconvenience, but heating, cooling extra space can be very inconvenient to your pocketbook. And think of all the cleaning required for that unnecessary space.

After examining our lifestyle and exploring how we really want to live, our 1600+ square foot house seemed...too big. That's not to say that a different family with different habits couldn't justify use of all these spaces. But it became clear that what we needed was a two-to-three bedroom house just big enough for family gatherings but not so big that we would all start living independent lives in separate corners of the dwelling. We needed a big kitchen and a larger than average sized bathroom (to make sharing easier).

We wanted enough of a yard to expand our gardening and raise chickens (but not too big of a yard that would require extra hours of maintenance). We wanted a single-level house to make exterior work (siding, roof, gutters, etc.) manageable and that would be friendly to our future aged and arthritic knees.

And we were willing to go outside of our current school district to find it.

Just before Thanksgiving we found it, quite by accident. The girls and I were headed to a realtor-run open house and passed by a "for sale by owner" property that was also having an open house; a smallish house with a little bit of land. Our intended destination, on the other hand, was a biggish house on smaller land.

The girls and I ditched the original open house for the FSBO and found The One.

New House

At just under 1000 square feet, the two bedroom, one (large) bathroom house is efficiently designed and immaculately maintained. The basement has a finishable area for a rec room and the two care garage includes a small workshop area. The 2.58 acres(!) of land encompasses a dry creek/wooded area, an established garden, chicken coop and pasture land.

Eowyn and the Chicken Coop

And so, all the pretty papers have been signed with a closing date of late February. And now the pressure is on to get our current house sold.

TMOTH and Sissy in the Back Half Acre

We know not everyone will agree with the decision we've made. Downgrading into a smaller home requires compromise, but it also follows historical example; in the 1950's the average size of an American home was 1,000 square feet, whereas today typical new homes are over 2,000 square feet. During the same time period the size of the American family decreased from three to four members down to two to three. So, as family size decreased home size increased. Does this really make sense?

Even with the anxiety of moving and getting our house sold there is a certain peace at the same time. The new house will be our rational house - not too big, not too little. Big enough to hold our love, small enough to wrap our arms around.

Let the dreams begin.

--Rational Mama

P.S. For more about living in smaller homes visit Living in Small Houses, Planet Green or Google "small living" or "living in small houses."

Review: Of Veg and Cheese...and Java Dilemma

2010-12-20T09:26:00.000-06:00

In the original "Of Veg and Cheese" post I outlined how, in accordance with life in the early 1940's, we would be limited to seasonably available produce during the rationing year, with the exception of canned and frozen produce which would be subject to ration points and market fluctuations.

So how did it go?

Well, last winter was tough - no bones about it. With just one pound of frozen vegetables setting us back one quarter of our weekly blue/green points, we were forced to work with seasonally available produce. This meant mostly carrots, potatoes and cabbage. And trust me, with all other green, leafy vegetables unavailable you start to appreciate cabbage on a whole new level.

Going without fresh salad for a few months definitely helped us understand how much we really love salad, even if it's as basic as a few green leaves and a simple dressing. Luckily, growing lettuce and mesclun indoors (or in a hoop frame or cold frame) is so easy we were able to get a jump start on our spring greens.

Once early summer came around we had locally grown produce available from our gardens, the farmer's market and our CSA bag. As you know, we had a hard time maintaining our Victory Gardens, and my new work schedule made visiting the farmer's market logistically tricky. And for a second year the CSA bags were a bit of a disappointment (some of the produce was actually of poor quality); I don't believe we'll do CSA bags in the future.

On the other hand, you just can't beat locally grown fruit. This past year we consumed our share of local strawberries, blackberries, apples and pears. Nothing can beat a fruit that was allowed to ripen fully before picking...and then immediately eating it. Really, I cannot downplay the physical and sensual joy of experiencing a local "u-pick" establishment.

As far as cheese goes...well, it's a staple we never want missing from the fridge. The versatility of hard cheese (snack, recipe ingredient, sandwich topper) make it a very useful, albeit rationed, resource. And thank goodness sour cream and cottage cheese weren't rationed - they have frequently been used to bulk up a sauce or soup (the former) or add protein to an otherwise light meal (the latter).

And finally, coffee. As outlined in the post "Java Dilemma," during rationing each adult received one pound of coffee every five weeks, assuming shortages didn't throw a kink into your coffee purchasing week. Both TMOTH and I increased our coffee consumption during the past year, in exchange for shrinking our soda intake. Even with that change, though, we were never in danger of running out of coffee supplies before the next ration amount could be purchased. We even had enough of a coffee surplus to, umm, be creative.

So, what of veg and cheese and coffee after rationing? We plan to continue focusing on seasonably available produce in an effort to reduce the carbon footprint of the fruits and vegetables we eat. And we'll continue to drink coffee at our current rates and avoid heavily-sugared sodas.

And cabbage...dear, sweet cabbage. You will always have a special place in our hearts...even if you're not as frequent a visitor at the table.

--Rational Mama

Rational Ritual

2010-12-19T09:10:00.003-06:00

This past Wednesday night we sat around the table, rolled the die and pulled scenarios from Mr. Bowles' Marketplace Scenario Randomizer...for the last time.

So interesting how doing something once a week for a year becomes such a habit, such a ritual.

Over the past year we've both cheered and boo-ed the die roll, rearranged menus to suit the scenarios and listen to the girls quarrel countless times over whose turn it is to roll the die.

In the end the last scenario of the rationing year was a dud...only half the usual amount of flour was available, but we have plenty in the pantry anyway.

The week before was a doozy, though. Eowyn wanted from-scratch macaroni and cheese for dinner when a gaggle of family was to be visiting to celebrate her birthday. But when we pulled scenarios for that week Mr. Bowles' informed us that only half the amount of cheese was available at the store. The cheese supply in the fridge was not bountiful, so there was no way we could acquire enough cheese to make macaroni and cheese for a crowd of sixteen.

As a friend said, Mr. Bowles' giveth and Mr. Bowles' taketh away.

So, we had to go to Plan B: roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and Brussels sprouts (you gotta love an eight-year-old that asks for Brussels sprouts).

It will be strange, if not liberating, to be able to make a shopping list without consulting the Randomizer. There are several aisles that I think I haven't even stepped a foot in during the rationing year. Everything in the store will be available for purchase. Everything.

And I know that I originally said that I would compost the Randomizer when the rationing project was complete, but now I am (based on a reader's advice) considering holding on to it for a while.

Some habits die hard.

--Rational Mama

Overkill?

2010-12-13T10:43:00.004-06:00

One of the best things about having the most amazing library between the Mississippi and the Rockies in your neighborhood is being able to take advantage of their awesome collection and reservation system.

Since we're trying to figure out what eating will look like after rationing I reserved a bunch of ethical eating titles last week. Not surprisingly, most of the titles have been sent my way in the past few days.

I'm not sure I'll get all of this read within the three week check-out period, but that's what the "renew" button is for!

--Rational Living

Historic Recipe: Nutburgers

2010-12-12T07:21:00.000-06:00

What's a rationing momma gonna make for dinner when a writer from the local parenting magazine is coming over to interview the family about the rationing project?

This momma made nutburgers.

In hindsight, I should have made an historic recipe with which I was already familiar; something tried and true like macaroni and cheese or even heart kabobs. But the nutburger recipe (from the most awesome Betty Crocker rationing cookbook) had been floating around on my to-do list for a while. Hence, I latched on to the excuse of the interview to get out of a menu rut and finally make them.

It's really quiet simple: combine a bunch of stuff, let it chill for two hours and then drop spoonfuls of it into a skillet with hot grease.

Stuff
1 1/2 cups ground pecans
1 cup soft bread crumbs
1 egg (beaten)
1 tsp diced onion
2 TB diced parsley (or 2 tsp dried parsley)
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 cup milk

I used the food processor to grind the pecans (finely ground nuts greatly improve the texture) and to make homemade bread crumbs. Oh, and be careful to only cook the burgers 4-5 minutes on each side as nuts burn easily.

On a side note, let me say that it's a little nerve-racking to cook with someone photographing you and your kitchen! But the photographer was so sweet that all remained calm and we quickly passed the time with chit chat.

When dinner was ready the photographer left and the four of us plus the writer sat down to the table to see how the recipe fared. Served with green beans and (locally grown) baked squash, the entire arrangement made a pretty plate.

And yup! That's a white sauce on top of the nutburger (per Betty's recommendation).

I can't remember who dove in for the first bite...I think it was Eowyn. She gave a big thumbs up and then the rest of us gave it a try. All of us (sans Sissy, big surprise) made nummy noises as we worked on our nutburgers. Granted, they wouldn't replace a traditional cheeseburger, but the flavor and texture were surprisingly meaty. In fact, all the adults (even the writer) had second helpings - that's how good they were!

They were good enough, dear reader, that as I'm writing this up I'm thinking they need to be on next week's menu. Yum!

--Rational Mama

Homestretch

2010-12-09T09:46:00.002-06:00

349 days in and only 16 more days to go.

We're actually going to pull this off, huh?

--Rational Mama

Review: Rationing: The Not-So-Sweet Life?

2010-12-08T10:44:00.000-06:00

When writing the original Rationing: The Not-So-Sweet Life? post I bragged that our household limitation of 8 pounds of sugar per month "doesn't seem that daunting to me." Even without the availability of prepackaged sweets and cookie dough from a tube I felt that this was one ration that was completely manageable.

And you know what? I was right.

Maybe it's because our family doesn't keep a cookie jar regularly supplied, as was the norm in the 1940s. Or maybe we ate fewer sweets. Either way, we adapted quite well to the the sugar restrictions. Cookie craving? Better get the recipe book out because you're not getting any unless you put in the effort. And there were several nights when I would have loved a warm, gooey cookie straight from the oven but was too lazy to actually do the work. And that's probably a good thing.

Granted, I did buy the girls Twinkies at one point, since they are a treat that is historically accurate (well, at least in form - I'm not sure if all the same preservatives and artificial colors were used in the past). The girls loved them.

Otherwise, I could go several weeks without claiming our sugar rations and still have plenty available on the shelf. The only time I had to be careful and make sure we had a copious supply was during the summer canning season.

One thing we did fail at was the interest in buying mostly sustainably-grown sugar. That will be something to consider while we make plans for life after rationing.

--Rational Mama

Pearl Harbor Day

2010-12-07T09:28:00.002-06:00

Reality Check

2010-12-06T12:48:00.003-06:00

I was at one of those mega-market grocery stores the other night.

That night (and all during rationing) my cart contained basic staples like flour, sugar, butter, cheese, bread, a small amount of meat, beans, cereal, maybe a frozen or canned vegetable and seasonally appropriate fresh fruits and vegetables.

This seems very normal to me.

The person in line behind me the other night had three economy-sized packages of frozen burritos, frozen blueberry waffles (artificially flavored), frozen tater tots, several frozen dinner entrees, a few bags of chips and two flats of bottled water.

I have to admit I stared a little; I was simultaneously amazed at how different our two purchases were and by how little real food was piling up on the conveyor belt behind my purchase. I was very aware that a significant portion of the volume of their purchase consisted of artificial colors, artificial flavors, bulking agents, salt, high-fructose corn syrup and other quasi-food substances.

If that's what life after rationing looks like then I don't want to leave rationing.

--Rational Mama

Review: Rationing is a Gas! Gas! Gas!

2010-12-03T08:58:00.000-06:00

One of the first posts about the rationing year project concerned gasoline and mileage rationing. In it, we described how gasoline was rationed during WWII and the issues we were wrestling with in trying to come to some sort of modern equivalent. In the end, we came up with a self-imposed mileage ration of 193 miles per week combined for our two vehicles.

So...how's it been? Well, once we project out an average weekly mileage for the last few weeks of rationing (plus the mileage for a holiday round trip visit to Wichita) and add it to our already documented mileage we will have traveled (in our personal vehicles) roughly 10,007 miles during the rationing year, which is just slightly under the total miles of 10,036 allotted to us during rationing (193 miles per week x 52 weeks).

We're all pretty happy that we stayed within our limit and didn't fall into the trap of going farther (literally) even though we knew there wouldn't be any real consequences for us if we did go over our rationed amount.

In order to stay within our ration we definitely had to be mindful about how and when we were driving. We became pros at combining/consolidating trips and had to be extra careful with miles when the girls had out-of-town swim meets every other week during the summer. Our "vacations" consisted of two short getaways to Kansas City and one trip to Wichita to see family. Our mileage allowance did not permit a more grand vacation even if we incorporated some carpooling and I occasionally walked to work.

And to be honest, we were all feeling the lack of big getaway by the time autumn arrived.

As a family we have to decide how we will handle mileage after rationing is over. All of us agreed that we didn't want to remove mileage off the radar completely, especially once we reviewed the math.

During the rationing year our 10,000 miles were considerably below the national average; the average adult American drives 12,000 miles per year, which means the average for a two-driver household like ours is 24,000 miles per year. By following our rationing limits we drove 14,000 miles less than a comparable family.

Fourteen thousand less miles means fewer gallons of gasoline (and more money in our pocket). Using a very modest estimate of 20 miles per gallon, 14,000 miles equates to 700 less gallons of gasoline. Each gallon of gasoline creates 20 pounds of carbon dioxide, so by travelling 14,000 miles (or 700 gallons of gasoline) less than the average two-driver household we avoided dumping 14,000 pounds of carbon dioxide into the air.

That's seven tons, or the equivalent of 1,400 10lb bags of potatoes, or roughly four mini-vans! After that kind of a realization, we can't just abandon mileage/gasoline rationing completely.

So we've decided to keep tracking our mileage but give our family a slightly higher allowance so that more frequent weekend trips and a decent vacation (likely to involve driving) can be incorporated. We are also aware that we will likely be using more miles next year for basic errands (more on that development in a later post). Taking all these things into consideration we have decided that our new, post-rationing family limit for mileage will be 15,000 miles combined for the year. This gives use a weekly allowance of 288 miles - nearly 100 miles more per week than during rationing! The trick will be to not squander those miles but to save them up for the fun stuff.

Pondering all those extra miles and the possibilities seems like a luxury. Where will we go first?

--Rational Mama

Randomizer Breakthrough

2010-12-02T07:32:00.003-06:00

This is what happens when you use Mr. Bowles' Marketplace Scenario Randomizer every week for nearly a year.

I used some sticky tape to fix the hole - it will have to do for the final three weeks.

The good news is that the randomizer is completely biodegradable and will be composted after the experiment.

I have to admit, though, that I think we'll miss the Wednesday night ritual of rolling the dice and pulling scenarios. We'll have to find something to fill the void.

--Rational Mama

Ponderings

2010-12-01T19:23:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago one of the readers at church read a passage that really struck a cord with me. I thought it was a succinct, well-written outline of some of the thoughts we're pondering as we start making decisions about life after rationing.

I asked the reader for a transcript of the text and I received the following excerpt from Beyond Guilt, by George S. Johnson. My apologies for taking some liberties with the text, as all emphases are my own.

--Rational Mama

....................

Guilt, powerlessness and fear are three dragons that paralyze many people in efforts to move beyond charity toward oppressed people.

The appeal for charity, feeling sorry and sharing our resources is the beginning, a good starting place, but it is only the first step.

There is a saying that helps to explain the challenge to work for justice, not just for charity. “If people are hungry, you can give them some fish and they will live another day. This is called relief, [or charity]. But if you not only give a fish, but teach them how to fish for themselves they will be helped to feed themselves in the future.” This is often called development.

That sounds good, but it can be misleading if it is not followed with the next step.

There is a third part of that saying that is critical to our efforts to move beyond guilt. We must not only offer the fish (relief) and assistance in learning how to fish themselves (development), but we must move over in the pond and GIVE them a place to fish. And, we must stop polluting the pond where they fish … And we must give them a fair price FOR their fish.

This third step clearly has many facets to it. It is called working for justice, fairness. Justice includes efforts to end oppression and unfair practices of the domination system.

Moving from charity to justice is difficult, because it calls for careful listening, increased awareness, and critical thinking about the attitudes and values that have brought us to this current crisis.

To avoid feeling guilty, we may stay at surface-level analysis. Guilt may be preferred to making changes or facing the pain and uncertainty of solidarity with those who cry for justice.

Could it be that, while we complain about guilt, we actually prefer it to enlightened analysis and action?

To get involved may lead to changes we’re not ready to make. Beliefs and values may be challenged. Systems that have blessed us may be examined and found wanting. Our security and prosperity may be jeopardized.

We can surely sleep better at night when we are ignorant of the reality of human suffering and its connection to our acceptable lifestyles.

The Return of Artisan Bread

2010-11-30T19:59:00.000-06:00

Crispy fall leaves. Brisk north winds. Stew on the stove.

And the return of artisan bread.

Nom, nom.

--Rational Mama

T-Minus 26 Days and Counting

2010-11-29T07:16:00.000-06:00

Can you believe it? We have less than a month left of rationing! The end is near!

So, how's it going?

This is traditionally a very busy time of year for us; between Thanksgiving and the middle of January we have four family birthdays, three holidays and two birthdays of very dear friends. Plus, this year we're dealing with trying to decide what life will look like after rationing and all of the house stuff. Luckily, by now we're whizzes when it comes to rationing and it doesn't take much brain power to come up with a ration-friendly menu and point total.

In fact, we've gotten so accustomed to rationing that lately we're using only a fraction of our points. During previous months I tried to use up all our ration points as best I could without crossing that fine line between maintaining a surplus and hoarding. After all, ration points seldom went unused during the 1940s. But at some point that tactic seemed to contradict the idea behind rationing - focusing instead on wants rather than needs. And so I've been trying to "shop" the freezer and cabinets, so to speak, and use what we already have on hand.

As a result we will be ending the month of November with a surplus of 95 red and 45 blue/green points (!).

We are starting to make some headway and consensus on what life will be like after rationing. Some small changes, some big changes, some things dropping to the wayside and some things status quo. Over the next month I'll be revisiting some of the original rationing project posts to bring you up to date.

In the meantime, thanks for sticking with us!

--Rational Mama

So THIS is What We've Been Saving All That Butter For!

2010-11-28T12:15:00.000-06:00

I hope everyone out there had a wonderful, safe Thanksgiving holiday!

We had a pleasant dinner with TMOTH's family. It was potluck style and we were in charge of the relish tray and desserts. I wanted to do something quasi-traditional but easy for the desserts, since I was working both the day before and the day after Thanksgiving. The following are the two dessert recipes I made for the day -both are do-able on rations as long as you've been saving up your sugar and butter (luckily, we had). They were both divine, especially when paired with homemade whipped cream.

Sorry for the lack of photos - neither dessert survived more than 24 hours past the big meal and we were all too busy stuffing our faces to take pictures. I think that's a sign of a successful Thanksgiving.

Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake

Ingredients

1 package yellow cake mix (yes, these were available in the 1940s)

4 eggs

16 TB butter, separated

1 8 0z package of cream cheese, softened

1 15 0z can of pumpkin (not pumpkin pie filling)

1 tsp vanilla

8 oz powdered sugar (if not available granulated sugar will do)

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp nutmeg

Directions

1. Prepare the cake layer by mixing together the cake mix, 8 TB melted butter and 1 egg.

2. Evenly press cake mixture into the bottom of a well-greased 9" x 12" baking dish.

3. Prepare the filling by beating together the cream cheese and pumpkin until smooth.

4. Add the remaining 3 eggs, vanilla and 8 TB melted butter to the pumpkin mixture and mix well.

5. Add sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg to the pumpkin mixture and stir thoroughly.

6. Spread pumpkin mixture over the cake layer.

7. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 40 to 50 minutes (center will still be slightly gooey).

8. Let cake cool completely before serving (a few hours in the refrigerator will help).

Pecan Pie Bars

Ingredients

2 cups sugar (divided)
1/2 tsp salt
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup plus 3 TB butter

4 eggs

1 1/2 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 cups Karo syrup

2 cups pecan halves or pieces

Directions

1. Prepare cookie crust by combining 1/2 cup sugar, flour, salt and 1 cup butter (softened).

2. Beat until mix is crumbly.

3. Press cookie mixture into well-greased 10" x 15" baking pan.

4. Bake 20 to 30 minutes or until lightly browned.

5. While cookie crust is baking, prepare filling by beating together the eggs, 3 TB butter (melted), vanilla and remaining syrup and sugar until well-blended.

6. Pour mixture over the hot cookie crust and top with the pecans.

7. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes.

8. Cool completely before cutting into serving sizes.

--Rational Mama

Television Daze...Part 2

2010-11-19T19:59:00.000-06:00

That would be a picture of digital PBS programming on our new T.V.

I would be lying if I said it wasn't beautiful.

One of the folks following Rational Living on Facebook asked how our television price compared with the cost of purchasing a new family radio in the 1940s. According to this website a mid-range floor radio model would set a 1940s family back $60 to $80. The inflation calculator says that would be equivalent to roughly $900 to $1200 in today's dollars. Even after you add in all the extra cables and accessories we were still well below that figure.

Blame it on the bad economy or deflationary electronic technology. Either way, we'll be happy watching Star Trek on the big screen in high definition.

Anachronistic? Yes. Geeky? Most definitely. Good? Oh, yes. And we look just like that family in the Westinghouse ad...I promise.

--Rational Mama

Whew. And Cobbler

2010-11-18T19:10:00.004-06:00

Whew.

That's about the only thing I can say about the past month.

Whew.

October always go by so quickly and this year was no exception. With Halloween on a Sunday there were virtually three full days of Halloween this year. Costume gathering, school parties, friend parties, trick-or-treating...lots to do.

Add to that house issues. Yes, our house is still on the market but the original house that started all of this is completely out of the picture now (and we're okay with that). In the end they were asking too much, especially considering the amount of elbow grease required to get everything up to par. So we've been spending time perusing the internet for possible homes, visiting open houses, debating what features we consider important in the next move and researching schools. We had actually found a property we were very interested in (3/4 of an acre, unconventional A-frame, great school) but then it was taken off the market because of all the foreclosure mess. Sigh. All this and we have to keep our own house nearly pristine in-between improvement projects just in case someone wants to see it.

And then there was last week. The girls were off of school on Monday so we had some extra bonding time and they were sweet, sweet, sweet. On Tuesday Eowyn woke up with a stomach ache and quickly began vomiting. Unfortunately, she started on an empty stomach and has a history of acid reflux. Thus, in less than four hours after she first vomited we were in the emergency room. She was very dehydrated and was showing signs of intestinal damage so she spent two days in the hospital, soaking up the I.V. fluids in between tests and lots of meds. At one point they gave her morphine which alleviated the pain enough that she could sleep, but it dropped her respiratory rate down so low that all the machine alarms were going off. A lot. Ugh. Not good times.

She came home last Thursday with several prescriptions to get her by until she can see her pediatric gastroenterologist in Kansas City this coming Monday. So far, so good...but we were all rather exhausted last weekend - both physically and mentally.

We needed something to make everything right...to sort of reset the household. So last Sunday night I made venison stew with dumplings and a pear cobbler for dessert. The stew was wonderful - stick to your ribs comfort food. The cobbler was absolutely amazing and oh-so-simple. I used a jar of cinnamon pears I preserved in September and the taste was amazing, but I'm sure you could use commercially-canned fruit and have equally impressive results.

I'm going to post the cobbler recipe I used because I know we all have those times...when life has strung us out and scraped us thin. This may not make everything better, but it will make you feel a bit more at peace.

Ingredients
1 15-16 oz can of fruit (peaches, pears, apples, blueberries or cherries would work well)
1 cup self-rising flour
1/2 cup sugar
5 TB butter, melted
1 cup milk

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Grease the bottom and sides of an 8" x 8" baking dish.
3. Drain canned fruit and evenly distribute fruit in the bottom of the prepared dish.
4. Combine remaining ingredients and pour the mixture over the fruit.
5. Bake the cobbler for 35 to 40 minutes, or until golden brown.

The fact that the cobbler did not survive long enough for me to take a picture should serve as an adequate testimonial.

Wishing all of you healthy, happy days.

--Rational Mama

Based on a True Recipe

2010-11-11T09:37:00.000-06:00

Hmm...what to say about the Six Layer Dinner?

Well, it's from the most-awesome Betty Crocker rationing cookbook.

But...I made it for dinner back on September 17th and I'm still trying to find the words to make it sound interesting and exciting.

It's been harder than I thought. It's just layers of potatoes, ground beef, peppers, onions and tomatoes (I know - no white sauce!). I did add some cheddar cheese on the top and some extra seasonings (garlic powder, oregano) to make it palatable. Otherwise, there wasn't much hope for it.

Maybe, rather than focus on the actual historic recipe I should instead go all Hollywood on it and add some sizzle. You know, "based on a true recipe." Yeah, that sounds good.

Six Layers of Fury Dinner: You Will Be Hungry

Mind-Bending Ingredients:

2 cups sliced angry and raw potatoes
2 cups chopped celery with something to prove
2 cups ground beef so fresh it's still moo-ing
1 cup onion, sliced by Jackie Chan fighting off three ninjas
1 cup finely cut green peppers picked by a migrant worker with dreams of becoming a internationally-known songstress
2 cups cooked tomatoes, dripping with lycopene
2 tsp salt gathered by slave laborers in SE Asia while Angelina Jolie protests nearby
1/4 tsp pepper so spicy it's kept under lock and key - until Jason Bourne is on the scene

Directions - Destroy After Reading:

1. Layer ingredients in a shallow 9 x 12 baking dish, careful not to trigger the sensitive detonation device buried within.
2. Bake for 2 hours at 350 degrees, or for only 3 minutes when the sun goes supernova after North Korean spies hijack a nuclear missile.

What do you think? Shall I call Spielberg?

--Rational Mama

A Light in the Darkness

2010-11-09T09:34:00.001-06:00

What is a rationing mother to do when the family must be fed, she doesn't want to cook anything complicated and the rest of the clan wants something tasty now?

Ahhh, yeah! She pulls out a can of SPAM (or, SPAM light) and makes SPAM burgers with a side of fresh roasted sweet potato wedges.

Easy, relatively quick and everyone is happy! Yay for SPAM!

--Rational Mama

Television Daze

2010-11-07T16:17:00.006-06:00

Sometimes it's really challenging to be patient - especially in today's day and age. I can get takeout ordered and delivered, check out the game score and view the week's forecast all within half an hour and all without leaving my house. Patience may be a virtue, but today it seems a seldom-needed virtue.

And we typically don't like it when we're asked to use it.

Take, for example, our most recent appliance dilemma. Our current TV (yes, we only have one in the house - I believe this makes us an anomaly in the U.S. for our family size and income bracket) is roughly seven years old. It's a standard early 2000's model and after years of use and abuse the remote has gone AWOL. Also, it doesn't have a digital tuner and, considering how much cabinet space it takes up, it doesn't provide the nice wide screen features of the newer flat-screen models.

Additionally, it apparently has Seasonal Affective Disorder.

For the past several years the speakers have not worked properly during the colder months. It took us a few seasons to realize what was going on, but during the colder months the speakers rattle with noises of specific frequencies (think mumbling dialogue, car chases or an awesome Viper/Raider fight sequence from, say, Battlestar Galactica). Understandably, this can be quite irritating.

But then spring comes and temperatures warm up and we forget about the speaker plague of the previous four months. We tolerate the display even if we can't see the far edges and labels of the PBS program we're watching.

Oh, and we continue to pay around $12 per month to get our local affiliates (plus a handful of ot her channels that we don't really watch) since we lack the digital tuner.

Well, we are finally ready to purchase a new TV! All modern with a wide screen, working remote, digital tuner and functional speakers! We've been doing the research and it seems like our best fit would be a 32" LCD HDTV with 1080p and 120 Hz. The girls and I were in the area of the big box electronic store today so we stopped in to browse.

I had been estimating about $600 for our future purchase, based on prices from a few months ago. I had heard rumors that the prices on LCD televisions were dropping because of a glut of inventory (bad economy = slow electronic purchases). Wow - those rumors are true! I found a model with the exact features we're looking for with a high customer rating on mega-sale for only $450! Plus, with my credit and such we could do eighteen months of interest free financing.

Oh man...the temptation was there! How was I able to walk out of that store without a television?

Because appliances were rationed during WWII. Remember our oven range dilemma? We were in a pickle because ranges were in short supply during the war (not very many were being produced in the war-driven factories) so families in need of a range had to apply for one. If they were turned down then they either had to find a used model or make do without one.

So that's how I was able to say no to the television temptation. I was thinking about appliance rationing and delayed gratification and such. If you combine our Internet/television usage time I believe it roughly equates to what would have been the average usage of telephones and radios in the 1940s (and they serve the same purposes). If a new radio wasn't an option for 1940s rationers then a new television shouldn't be available to us during our rationing year.

But then I came home and did a little research. Apparently, I over-estimated the variety of appliances and such that were rationed during WWII. True, oven ranges were available only through an application process - as were automobiles, bicycles and typewriters. But that was the extent of appliance rationing. It doesn't take much effort to find War-era advertisements for new radios via Google. This all makes sense considering how much the government used radio as a tool for morale and support during the War.

So...what to do?

--Rational Mama

A Vintage Halloween

2010-11-06T19:25:00.007-05:00

While the girls were charming the neighborhood as Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley...

I couldn't help but find inspiration in the rationing year for a costume idea...

--Rational Mama

Brrrrrr!

2010-11-02T18:09:00.007-05:00

It's November and the weather has finally realized that the season is currently autumn, not summer.

Up through the middle of last week we'd been experiencing a warm, dry autumn. In fact, the Rational Living household hadn't fired up the furnace until last Thursday - typically this happens around two weeks earlier in the season. Although our area had it's first official "hard" freeze last week, our own corner of the city did not, so we we still have peppers and basil (!) working their hardest to produce something worthwhile in the garden.

Now that the weather is more seasonally appropriate even the furnace doesn't keep the chill out of the house entirely. It's not that we have poor insulation or a faulty furnace - we have decent insulation and a modern, high efficiency furnace. It's mainly due to the fact that during the winters we keep the thermostat set at 62 degrees (higher if company is expected).

That is a full 10 degrees cooler than the wartime recommendation!

Why do we keep it so cool? Partly to curb heating costs, partly to conserve energy. On most days 62 degrees isn't too bad, especially if you're active (i.e., doing chores). If you're sedentary it does mean long sleeves, socks and maybe an afghan or two on the sofa. Nighttime typically isn't a problem since heat rises and the bedrooms are upstairs (the flannel sheets help, too).

Energy conservation during the winter was a big worry during WWII, since much of the coal reserves were needed for the war machine. There were multiple instances of families running out of coal mid-winter and not being able to secure more because of scarce availability.

Obviously, we don't have that problem today but we still feel a responsibility to use these resources judiciously.

So, friend...have you turned on your furnace? What is your thermostat setting?

--Rational Mama

Blog? There's a Blog?

2010-10-27T21:13:00.006-05:00

Oh, hi.

Hello blog visitor. It's nice to have you visit. I promise we haven't ditched the blog. Really, really promise.

We're still rationing our little hearts away, but just very busy with all the crazy fall stuff that covers us in an avalanche of responsibilities every October: homework projects, Halloween costumes, parties, school conferences, etc.

I'm hoping to get some new content up in the next week or so - a few historic recipes and insights now that we're down to just two months (*gasp*) left of the rationing project.

Oh, dear...that means there's less than two months until Christmas. Yeah, things are going to get even busier around here.

But the blog shall not suffer!

After all, we wouldn't want to disappoint the fabulous readers that have made this journey so interesting and fun. Did you know that an average of 35 to 40 visitors come to the blog each day? No? How 'bout this: the blog averages around 50 page views a day.

Not too long ago the blog had almost 100 page views in a single day.

That just blows my mind. Really. When we started this project and the blog we were hoping that maybe a few (mostly) local folks would join in and provide commentary, questions and insights. Instead, the blog has had over 5,500 visitors and is edging towards 9,000 page views. Visitors have come from all six permanently inhabited continents. How crazy is that?

I can only hope that the next two months (and beyond) will be as thought-provoking and worthy of your attention.

And maybe ya'll can help suggest to us what our life should be like after rationing. Because, frankly, it all looks a bit overwhelming from down here in the trenches.

So grab a chair and a beverage, let us know where you are and what you would do after rationing if you were us.

--Rational Mama

Pledge of the American Housewife

2010-10-17T14:50:00.001-05:00

It's been just over a year since we posted the first entry about the rationing project, and our year-long journey will be over in roughly two months and some change. It's time to start thinking about life after rationing.

What do we keep? What do we throw aside? What changes stick and what changes slide away?

We are certain that we want to continuing eating a healthy, ethical diet. What this means has yet to be determined.

In the last post I grumbled about life after rationing c. 1940s. But, as I mentioned, there was a determined group of individuals who encourage Americans to avoid gluttony so that others in poverty abroad could receive our exports. The Famine Emergency Committee put together a pledge to solidify promises against food waste, and it seems like a good place to start for our own post-rationing ideas:

"This is my sincere and voluntary pledge to assist in saving the lives of millions of starvation victims throughout the world."

1. I will do my utmost to conserve any and all foodstuffs which the starving millions of the world need today so desperately.

2. I will buy only the food my family actually needs for its proper nourishment and health.

3. I will neither waste nor hoard...nor discard any article of food...in cooking or in serving...and will ask my family for the fullest possible cooperation.

4. I will be particularly watchful in the use of wheat and cereals...and fats and oils...and will try to make certain that not a scrap of bread is wasted in my home.

5. I will make these little sacrifices gladly...for the sake of those who cannot enjoy my God-given right to live...and give...as an American. [ellipses in original]

How many of us buy that extra bag of lettuce or fruit "just in case" and then watch it rot before it has a chance to be consumed? Or let containers of leftovers mold in the fridge while we do take-out instead?

These are the kinds of things we'll be pondering as we think about life after December 25, 2010.

--Rational Mama

Dropping the Ball

2010-10-15T21:23:00.000-05:00

It's been one week since we prematurely ended the U.K. ration portion of our experiment. I've been doing a lot of soul searching since then.

Don't worry; we're still following our U.S. rationing guidelines. It was very easy to fall back into that groove: red points, blue points, etc.

But it feels different this time.

You see, living on U.K. rations was nothing less than hard: each day I had to carefully manage our limited supplies - what fat was available, what would do for breakfasts, and what pantry items were of adequate supply to provide enough dinner for four. The girls were hungry; we were all hungry.

I imagine that, historically, the hardship might have been more manageable if the entire country could commiserate with the shortages and make-do recipes and the hunger (in-between air raids, that is).

But in the U.S. things were different. Sure, there were shortages and occasional items were missing from the shelves. But what has become apparent from this (now over nine month) experience is that U.S. rations during WWII were generous compared to our own Allies across the pond. There was enough that the U.S. could help supplement British diets with exports of canned meat, fruit and vegetables. This was because U.S. food production (both private and commercial) skyrocketed during the War. Between Victory Gardens and factories running 24/7 the availability and variety of foods in America during the War made the grocery store shelves in the U.S. look like technicolor versions of heaven to the impoverished abroad.

And at least during this part of the War Americans had their heads and hearts in the right place: in a 1943 poll 62% of American respondents thought that continued rationing after the War would be necessary for a year or two to better control shortages and continue supplying war-torn nations with much needed food. By 1944 that number had risen to 85%; images of starving children in Europe and Asia were finding their way into U.S. media and it was hard to argue with such evidence. In 1945 individuals in Tokyo were getting only half of their official ration allowances (520 calories a day); at the same time over 70% of Americans thought it in the country's best interest to help overseas after the War.

And then something happened: the War actually ended.

As of August 15, 1945 (the day after V-J Day), rationing in the U.S. was over. History. Tired of the cumulative deprivation that was the Great Depression and WWII, Americans were happy to once again experience a lifestyle of abundance and leisure.

By March of 1946 only 59% of Americans favorite a return to rationing in order to send food to the needy in other nations (and that number dropped even further if the receiving nation was in Asia). Persuaded by the manufacturing and farm lobbyists, most Americans began to believe that advances in science and technology would be the way to rescue the international community out of poverty.

Granted, there was a group of citizens and activists that were not happy with this complacency towards the hungry. Pressure from voters and cabinet members lead President Truman to hastily create the Famine Emergency Committee in the spring of 1946. The FEC emphasized the notion that no other country, aside from Canada, could provide the food needed to rescue the rest of the world from starvation. To accomplish this they recommended that Americans return to rationing. When it became clear that neither industry nor the government was interested that option, the FEC recommended that Americans reduce their wheat consumption by 40% and their usage of fats/oils by 20%.

The response was underwhelming. In a 1947 Gallup Poll only 22% said they followed the government's suggestion of meatless Tuesdays (although 38% said they were planning to follow it). Roughly 29% of respondents replied that eating no meat on Tuesdays was "too difficult." Meanwhile, photos of the food wastage transpiring in the U.S. did little to gain sympathy from world communities that were continuing to suffer from drought conditions and the effects of war.

I know what you (the Americans) are thinking: what about the Marshall Plan? We all learned about the wonders of the Marshall Plan in our high school history classes; how it helped build up Europe after the War and created an efficient, sustainable infrastructure. But do you remember that the Marshall Plan wasn't enacted until 1948 - a full three years after WWII ended? And that only 29% of the multi-billion dollar program went to supply food, feed and fertilizers? The rest was spent on factories, buildings, and roads. And since food supplies were tied with politics, the amount of aid sent to Asian countries during this time period was but a small sliver of the amount sent to Europe.

So what am I trying to say? I'm saying that the U.S. blew it. Dropped the ball 100%. We had the chance to raise millions of lives out of poverty (and even prevent innocent deaths), but in the end we chose a nice steak dinner and chocolate cake rather than subject ourselves to modest, manageable rationing program.

And in reality, things really aren't that different today. The U.S., along with Canada, has the fields, the factories and the transportation needed to provide poverty relief both locally and around the globe.

So when this modern mother had to listen to her children's' repeated requests for food because they were genuinely hungry (and not just bored), it was a wake up call. What was a choice for me (living on restricted rations) is someone else's reality. Today.

According to the World Health Organization, approximately one-third of the world is well fed, one-third of the world is underfed, and one-third of the world is starving. Today.

Meanwhile, incidents of childhood and adult obesity in the U.S. are skyrocketing.

The system is broken. I'm not saying that it's an easy fix, or that it will ever be perfect. But something has to be done - locally and internationally.

And you know what? I'm not going to be the one to drop the ball this time.

--Rational Mama

Of Pie, Hunger and Nachos

2010-10-05T19:47:00.006-05:00

There is so much I want to tell you about living on 1945 U.K. rations.

I want to tell you that with all the limitations and restrictions menu planning gets tricky fast. Our weekly menu for the first week of U.K. rations included:

Friday: Vegetable-Garbanzo Soup with Dumplings
Saturday: Dinner at Friends' House (previous engagement)
Sunday: Roasted Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, Fresh Green Beans, Grilled Zucchini and Gravy
Monday: Woolton Pie
Tuesday: Spaghetti Noodles and Homemade Cheese Sauce
Wednesday: Chicken and Dumplings (using the chicken carcass from Sunday)
Thursday: Stir-fried Vegetables and Eggs with Rice

I want to tell you how all these restrictions make for very brief and focused shopping excursions.

I want to tell you that for breakfasts we've been eating yogurt (not rationed but available) and toasted oats and/or oatmeal. On Monday morning I made a batch of (reduced butter and sugar) cinnamon rolls for a special treat, and to literally butter up the girls for the Woolton Pie that evening. For lunches TMOTH and I have been eating leftovers and skimpy chicken sandwiches using leftover meat from Sunday and our very modest mayonnaise rations. We've been keeping the girls' lunches solid (peanut butter and honey sandwiches, crackers, local fruit) since during the War they would have had additional lunch options at school.

I want to tell you that snacking is severely limited on U.K. rations. The general rule is that if you didn't make it then it's not available, and your supplies are almost too tight to make anything. On Sunday I made a homemade granola bar type concoction that was snacked on for several days. Otherwise, snacking has been mostly limited to carrots and the local apples/pears we picked last month.

I want to tell you that I wouldn't want to be on these rations in the dead of winter, with few fresh vegetables available.

I want to tell you that I was finding the transition from one cup of coffee per day to one cup of tea per day very difficult.

I want to tell you that the results of the Woolton Pie were very predictable (Eowyn loved it, Sissy loathed it).

I want to tell you that the soap rations haven't been too terrible and that we managed to stay under our 157 allotted miles for the week.

I want to tell you how hungry we've been. Nearly every night we've needed an evening snack for the girls, and usually for the adults as well. One night we popped popcorn, but had to use lard since the butter and margarine were reserved for other purposes. Another night we made carrot cookies (surprisingly good).

I want to tell you that I was looking forward to making bangers and mash and sharing with you next week's menu and how I "spent" our points...but I don't have to.

Last night, after a very busy day AND night, TMOTH and I found ourselves driving home alone.

"I'm hungry," TMOTH said quietly.

"Me, too." I replied.

I thought about how many times the four of us had said those words over the past six days. I'd heard it from the girls more than once each day we'd been on U.K. rations. I thought about hearing it for another eight days.

And then I said, "Maybe six days is enough."

We had learned our lesson. What the civilians of the United Kingdom dealt with was far beyond the situation handed to the Americans. As Sissy put it, "They [in the U.K.] had only what was needed, but in the U.S. we could also get things we wanted." And that doesn't even include the air raids.

So I want to tell you how last evening we picked the girls up from their grandparents and told them that we were done with U.K. rations. They cheered. They were actually happy to be back on U.S. rations.

And then they told us they were hungry. We all agreed that we wanted cheese. Lots of cheese.

So we went home and had nachos for a bedtime snack.

--Rational Mama

Not So Victorious Gardens

2010-10-05T08:54:00.000-05:00

*A garden summary, by TMOTH

Mary, Mary quite contrary. How does your garden grow?

As of last week we are officially done with this year's gardens so it is time to assess how we did. I wish I could say better. Should I start with the excuses now or save those for later?

Sorry, it’s not like me to be so negative but I judge myself more harshly than others and the gardens were one area of the rationing project where more responsibility rested with me. I can’t think of any reason not to say that the amount of produce was disappointing. We knew going in that even with the additional garden space shared by friends (thanks again everyone) we were far short on space recommendations for successful Victory Gardens.

Even considering our space limitations we had high hopes. Especially for tomatoes, which took up the largest share of space. While I have to admit that I could/should have been more diligent with weeding and watering, I take some solace in the number of other gardeners I heard lamenting this year's tomatoes. I’m no master gardener to explain all of the variables but I also heard some say their tomatoes were great. In fact, one of our borrowed plots had plants that just wouldn’t give up. After suffering with the rest through brutal heat and a long dry spell what thick skinned fruit was on the vine split when the rains finally came. With the help of the late summer rain those plants started growing like crazy and loaded up with fruit all over again. Most of it never got to ripen on the vine. Last week I took what I thought were mature enough to finish on the shelf and pulled out the plants. Even when I finally uprooted the plants last week they were green bushy and still producing flowers and fruit in all stages of maturity.

It was a tough decision to take down those enthusiastic die-hards but I was afraid that we were just robbing nutrients from the soil for tomatoes that would never have a chance to ripen with the shorter days and cooler nights. (Can I really be thinking of frost already?).

Sorry that I don’t have an accurate tally of what we DID get but in general the gardens gave the occasional fresh produce for meals including a variety of greens and broccoli in the spring, eggplant, tomatoes, green beans, cucumbers and a small variety of squashes later with basil on demand throughout (still growing). Unfortunately we didn’t get the amount needed to save massive amounts for later.

I won’t go too deep into the excuses I promised earlier but I will leave you with this one insight. Trying to keep up with in four different small gardens in four different locations does not mix well with trying to limit your mileage.

--TMOTH

Ribena = Crack

2010-10-04T09:06:00.007-05:00

I'm not sure what the general opinion of Ribena is across the pond, but I can tell you that in the Rational Living household Ribena is now a legendary favorite.

Let me provide some background for those state-side readers.

When I was preparing for our two weeks of U.K. rations, I asked Mr. Graham (from On the Ration) if the 4 oz of loose tea per person was per adult only, or if children also received a tea ration. His response: "Your tea is per adult - the children get Ribena squash (blackcurrent cordial) instead."

Now, in the U.S. the term "cordial" is most frequently refers to thick, sweet alcoholic beverages...hence, I thought he was being silly by suggesting that the adults receive tea rations and the children get booze. But, thanks to my friend Google I was set straight.

Ribena is, in fact, a concentrated blackcurrant syrup that is then diluted with water to produce a juice-like beverage. During the War its high vitamin C content helped make it a popular nutritional aid for children in the U.K. (it's true vitamin C content has come under attack in recent years).
I felt very fortunate to find bottles of Ribena at our local grocery store in the "British" section. What else is in the "British" section? Some biscuits, cans of spotted dick (giggle) and those most definitely non-American cans of Heinz beans in tomato sauce. There are some other items as well which, I imagine, the store's ordering manager consider "classically British." Teas, jams, and candies.

Anyhoo...back to Ribena...this stuff is good. It's like liquid candy - or something even more addictive. When I called the girls into the kitchen to try some they were a bit skeptical - with it's dark color I think they thought it would taste like that hideous cough syrup. After a quick taste they promptly downed their glasses and loudly proclaimed that we should buy Ribena even when we aren't rationing. It's good enough that TMOTH and I have found ourselves making small glasses of the stuff for ourselves (shhh! don't tell the girls). Maybe a bottle of Ribena will make it into the girls' Christmas stockings this year...

Oh! Another gem I found in the "British" section was gravy granules. If you're a regular reader of On the Ration then you're familiar with Mr. Graham's semi-frequent mention of gravy granules. We have no such product here in the U.S. - our instant gravy items are typically powdered and consist mostly of corn starch which can (if overused) turn a wonderful gravy base into a brown paste.

I purchased the granules (the label ensures me that the kind I purchased are the "Nation's Favourite Gravy") to use on the gravy I was making with last night's roasted chicken (our special meat purchase for the week). When I first open the package I was alarmed by what appeared to be fish food. Seriously, the granules are gray and look like the pellets used to feed cichlids. Unfortunately, there is no way this product would fly as-is in the U.S. unless it was loaded with artificial dyes. Ugly but true.Anyway, last night I diluted the roast chicken drippings with a little water, added the granules and brought it to a boil. The resulting gravy was a little on the thin side but had a nice flavor and in no way resembled paste. This is all good, since tonight I will use the extra gravy as part of the Woolton Pie I will be making for dinner. Another classic U.K. wartime food, Woolton Pie is a concoction of cooked vegetables, oats and mashed potatoes.

I'm already preparing for Sissy's revolt. Maybe I can appease her with some Ribena?

--Michelle

Mabel's Kindness

2010-10-03T20:40:00.001-05:00

Last week we had a supply of apples (some donated) that needed to be made into pies - quickly. I was faced with the dilemma of trying to prepare three pies while simultaneously working full-time, attending war-bond meetings, organizing the next scrap metal drive and providing wholesome, well-rounded meals to my family. What was a rationing mother to do?

Luckily, sweet little Mabel came to the rescue. Gray-haired Mabel lives down the block from us in a dainty white house. Her peonies are always gorgeous and she makes the most delicious caramel popcorn balls for the neighborhood kids at Halloween. Mabel is very active in the war effort, volunteering her time for several community organizations including the Red Cross and her women's church group, which sends care packages oversees to our boys fighting those Nazi monsters.

One day I came home to find Mabel on our doorstep. "I thought you could use these," she said as a simple smile graced her face. In her outstretched arms was a circular tin...and inside the tin (separated by sheets of wax paper) where six beautiful, supple pie crusts! "I heard from little birdies that you were concerned you didn't have time to get everything together to turn those apples into pies."

Behind me I heard Sissy and Eowyn giggle as they ran out to play. Those pie crusts represented an hour of work and several points worth of fat rations. "Mabel," I countered, "This is very generous of you, but..."

"Nonsense!" she interrupted. "You need these more than I do. Besides, you wouldn't need them if you weren't so busy trying to get our boys what they need. And the sooner they can get what they need then the sooner the war will be over." A little glisten coated her pale blue eyes.

How could I say no?

"Thank you," I replied, and we both breathed a little sigh of relief. "But surely I can repay you for this somehow. I have a bit of extra coffee that needs a home." Everyone in the neighborhood knew that a big reason why Mabel was able to do so much was a result of her heavy coffee addiction. Since rationing had begun she'd been forced to reuse coffee grounds, but even that didn't allow her modest coffee ration to last its full five weeks. By week four, out of coffee rations, Mabel was known to be irritable and shaky.

"No thank you, dear," answered Mabel, too proud and honest to accept the trade.

"Well, then..." I postulated, "How about I invite you over for coffee and pie once the pies are made?"

"That sounds like a beautiful plan."

*Based on a true story. Actual events may have included a mad-dash to the grocery store to by anachronistic pre-made pie crusts.

--Rational Mama

Missing Coffee

2010-10-03T08:11:00.002-05:00

Tea does our fancy aid,
Repress those vapours which the head invade

And keeps that palace of the soul serene.

--Edmund Waller (17th century English poet)

Yeah, but coffee does it so much better.

--Rational Mama (21st century rationer)

(Kinda) Historic Recipe: Dried Apple Skins

2010-10-02T17:00:00.000-05:00

While processing all those pounds of pears and apples last week (after a fresh fruit dry spell) it seemed a shame to not get everything we could out of the produce. The cores, unfortunately, don't have much purpose unless you're making apple/pear sauce and/or feeding the pigs. We did neither. The peels, however, have possibility - especially since the apple magic makes such nice, even strips of peel with a little fruit on them to boot.

Determined to not let this resource be wasted, I took a pile of peels, drizzled an ever-so-tiny amount of oil on them and dusted them with cinnamon and sugar. I then tossed them in a bowl to coat evenly.

To dry the peels (or anything, for that matter) you can use either an oven or an electric dehydrator. I used both last week and liked the results from the dehydrator better, so I'll pass along those instructions.

Distribute the peels in single layers on dehydrator trays, being sure to not overlap the pieces too frequently. Set the temperature to 135 degrees and let the dehydrator run for five hours or so (time will depend on how much moisture is present in the peels).

When the skins are done they will be crispy like apple chips!

Most electric ovens will only go as low as 175 degrees, so if you use the oven watch the peels carefully so that they don't burn.

Trial and error last week also informed me that apple skins produce a much better product with this method. The girls did not like the pear skins, which were chewier after dehydration.

Time permitting, we might make some applesauce next week and put all the apple to good use. We love applesauce but it is not allowed on UK rations and on US rations it basically costs one blue/green ration point per once. With only 48 blue/green points per week it's quite a luxury!

--Rational Mama

U.K. Ration Day!

2010-10-01T15:40:00.007-05:00

Hello to all! Today is the day we start living on 1945 U.K. rations for the next two weeks!

A previous post outlined some of the rations and restrictions which were, unfortunately, a little squishy. Since I didn't have access to many first-hand sources I was making a sort of U.K. ration hodge-podge - a little 1943, a little 1945, etc.

Luckily, the ever so kind Mr. Graham (from On the Ration) set me straight. So, here's a rundown of our rations for the first week.

Standard Weekly U.K. Rations for Family of Four (1945)

8 oz preserves/syrup/treacle (Hagrid's favorite) (We have blueberry preserves)

32 oz sweets (We've gone with 27 oz sugar and 5 oz hard candy)

One pound bacon or ham (bacon this week)

32 oz butter/margarine/lard (We have 16 oz butter, 8 oz margarine and 8 oz lard...shudder)

8 oz cheese (Cheddar)

4 eggs (Drats! I can't find egg powder in this town!)

1.80 gallons fresh milk

milk powder - enough to make .6 gallons of milk

8 oz loose tea (no coffee or soda allowed)

Ribena concentrate for the girls (Our local grocery store had Ribena, Mr. Graham!)

2 cans concentrated orange juice

$8.32 for meat ration (Our antibiotic-free whole chicken was $8.30)

The monetary ration for meat was historically for red meat only, but to stay in line with our rationing year we will also include pork and poultry as part of this ration due to their current widespread availability (as compared with WWII).

There is also a standard ration of cod liver oil that I will not be subjecting the family to (I'm afraid Sissy would never speak to me again).

Then we have 24 points per week to use on tinned and dried foods. This is how we spent ours for the first week:

2 pounds oatmeal (8 pts)

1 pound dried beans - garbanzos (4 pts)

1 pound pasta (4 pts)

1/2 pound rice (1 pt)

1 pint condensed milk (2 pts)

1 fl oz olive oil (1 pt)

4 oz mayonaisse (4 pts)

Of course, local fresh produce and whole-grain breads are ration-free.

Soap rations are outlined in a previous post.

And then there's the gasoline rations...Under U.S. rations (and with a little 2010 math) our family is allowed 193 miles per week combined for both of our vehicles. Mr. Graham shared that gasoline rations varied during the war, with civilian rations of gasoline not being an option for a good portion of the war. He did related that if TMOTH's employment correlated with a wartime industry (which it would) then in early 1945 he would be allowed 9 gallons of gasoline per week which, using our 2010 math, would equate to 157 gallons per week.

Our weekly average has been closer to 180 miles per week, so we will definitely have to rethink our trips.

Of course, no appliance or clothing purchases are allowed and eating outside the home (restaurants, etc.) will only be permitted at two different (previously scheduled) family occasions during the two week period.

So there's the basics! Last night we went through the cupboards and refrigerator, storing away tempting items that are not allowed on U.K. rations. It was like removing all the hametz out of a house for Passover. Good bye crackers, gratuitous amounts of packaged cereal and cheese. Today we have nice, sparse shelves and a simple vegetable and dumpling soup.

We'll see how this goes.

--Rational Mama

Soap Box

2010-09-28T03:47:00.000-05:00

So...less than a week until we adopt 1945 U.K. rationing standards for two weeks. I've got my shopping lists to rearrange and a different point system to consider and I've got soap on the brain.

Unlike the U.S., things in the U.K. during WWII got so tight as to require soap rationing (to save fats and oils for food). In 1945 (our target year for U.K. rations) each individual was allotted four soap coupons per month (babies were given more), and each coupon could be used to purchase (along with money):

4 oz of hard bar soap (think lye soap)

3 oz of hard toilet soap (equivalent to our modern bath soap)

3 oz soap flakes (used for laundry and general cleaning purposes)

6 oz soap powder (think Vim, similar to Ajax)

6 oz soft soap (a semi-liquid soap similar in consistency to cold creams)

1/2 oz (15 ml) liquid soap (think liquid Castile soap)

As a family of four we will have four coupons per week. Mr. Graham (writer extraordinaire at On the Ration) informed me that if TMOTH's job was the industrial type that required him to get extra dirty then he'd earn extra soup coupons. As much as I like the idea (and smell) of that, I'm not sure that TMOTH's job would apply. Does he get dirty at work? Most definitely. Dirtier than the average 1940s job (think of coal miners and railroad mechanics and such)? Probably not. So, in good faith I'm sticking to four soap coupons per week.

Here's what I've chosen to trade in our first week's coupons for the following:

3 oz hard toilet soap
6 oz soap flakes

1/2 oz (15 ml) liquid soap

The toilet soap is self explanatory. I ordered the soap flakes online and there is enough in the weekly supply to clean two to three loads of laundry (note to self: wash bed linens the week before). The liquid soap will be dissolved into water and put in a sprayer bottle for general cleaning purposes around the kitchen and bath.

I hope this will be sufficient, although I'm already wishing there was another coupon so that I could get some soap powder, too. Maybe I can get some soap powder the second week if the toilet soap looks like it will last.

How would you spend your soap ration coupons?

--Rational Mama

(Kinda) Historic Recipe: Pear Butter

2010-09-27T09:34:00.001-05:00

So...what do you do when you have nearly 70 pounds of pears (and some apples)? The first (and easiest) thing we do to extend the harvest is make pear butter.

Now, I'll be honest and tell you right up front that I use my crock pot (slow cooker, for those across the pond). That is a bit anachronistic but serves the same purpose as simmering gently on the stove top for all those hours. Believe me, it is best that I not have something simmering on the stove top for long...I tend to be forgetful and have been known to set timers so that I don't burn or over-boil dinner. I get distracted very easily, as I am usually multitasking (not well, apparently) and do not gauge my time correctly. During one incident (prior to rationing) I was steam-microwaving some green beans and become in some web-based entertainment. Unfortunately, the 14 year old microwave didn't turn itself off after seven minutes but just kept cooking and cooking and cooking. After a total of about 22 minutes I realized what was going on and unplugged the darn thing. The microwave never smelled the same way again.

All this to say: yes, I use my crock pot.

Making pear (or apple) butter is quite simple. First wash, peel and core 5 1/2 to 6 pounds of fruit. This is made easier at the Rational Living household with one of these:

It is a period-appropriate apple peeler/corer/slicer thingy. For lack of a better name it is called Apple Magic in our household - and magic it is (the girls love to operate this thing and many hands make light work). Simply wedge the bottom of the fruit onto the three-prong base and turn the handle. The fruit moves toward the peeling apparatus and on to the coring blade. What you're left with is a coiled, peel-less piece of fruit.

Soak the fruit in lemon water to prevent browning.

Once all your fruit is peeled and cored, chop the fruit into dime-sized pieces. Cuisinarts are a great non-1940s way to accomplish this task quite quickly. Just sayin'.

Combine the chopped fruit with three cups sugar, one tablespoon cinnamon, 1/4 teaspon ground cloves and 1/4 teaspoon salt.

If you're using the stove top method the mixture should be brought to a boil in a large pot, then simmer gently for 10 or so hours.

If you're using the crock pot then add the mixture to the pot and cook on low for 10 to 12 hours. It helps if the lid is tilted slightly to allow extra moisture to escape. I like to start this in the evening before I go to bed and then it's magically done before I go to to work the next day.

Cooking times will vary depending on the moisture content of the fruit.

Once your butter is...butter...you can either place it into small containers and freeze it or process half-pints by water bath method (1/2 inch head space, 10 minutes).

Yum!

--Rational Mama

When Life Gives You Lemons (or Pears)

2010-09-22T16:45:00.000-05:00

If you're a regular reader of this blog then you are definitely aware that the unavailability of local, fresh apples has been the girls' least favorite aspect of rationing so far.

So, this past weekend we burned up some ration miles to visit a nearby u-pick orchard. It is the same orchard from which we hauled home 20 plus pounds of apples last year. Friends, these were the best apples ever. So many varieties, all picked while ripe. I'm not a big fresh apple fan but I happily gobbled an apple a day while we had that stash in the house. In light of the restraints we've had this year our plan was to come home with at least twice as many apples as last year - what we didn't eat fresh we'd can, dehydrate or bake in pies to freeze.
When we arrived at the orchard after our 35 minute drive we noticed that the parking area seemed very, well, quiet. Eerily quiet. Entering the little business shack I happily skipped up to the counter and proclaimed, "We're here to pick apples."

Behind the counter slouched a gray, elderly, and unamused woman. "There aren't any apples," she said.

Say what? I told her I didn't understand.
She then proceeded, in a most disinterested voice, to explain that the orchard was hit by a fungus this year due to the high heat and humidity we had this past summer. Her blue eyes were lackluster and she was very...well...ho hum about the whole thing. As a friend who went to the orchard with us described it: "She is so done with the orchard thing."

I stood, dumbfounded for a few seconds while it all soaked in. I had checked the orchard's website just days before and it had no mention of a crop failure. We had just used up critical miles with the expectation of coming home with bucketfuls of wonderful, crisp, juicy apples. I had pictured the girls, with beaming smiles, rolling around in piles of apples declaring that it was the best day ever.

But there weren't any apples.Seeing my hesitation, the clerk did offer one option: "There's still the Asian pears."
"Yes, we'll pick those," I quickly blurted out. Yes. We would pick Asian pears. This is how the trip would be salvaged.

"But I don't like Asian pears," one of the girls mumbled from behind me. "The ones from the co-op tasted bad."

"These are different," I said, figuratively crossing my fingers behind my back.

Onward we march up the orchard hill, past rows and rows of apple trees. Indeed, something terrible had happened to the apples - most of the trees had lost their leaves and the ground was blanketed in a layer of brown, rotting fruit. The smell was enough make it smell like a college bar on a Sunday morning. A few red fruits still clung to random trees, but we weren't sure if we could pick them.Eventually we found the Asian pears and began picking. There were plenty of pears of a few different varieties and a quick sampling let the girls realize that they did, indeed, like Asian pears. So pick, pick, pick we did.
And as we did we came across other apple trees that looked like they weathered the fungus slightly better than the first trees we passed. When the clerk rode up the hill in her golf cart to check on us we asked her if it was okay to pick the unharmed apples.

"Yes," she said. "But I can't guarantee they're ripe on the inside."

Over the next 40 minutes we continued to pick Asian pears and salvageable apples as we walked our way down the orchard hill. When done, we had roughly 70 pounds of fruit (three-quarters of which was Asian pears).
So instead of apple butter, apples pies and such we'll be processing pear butter, dehydrated pears and pear crisps. Stay tuned for recipes!

--Rational Mama

Rational Interview: Eowyn

2010-09-18T14:16:00.002-05:00

This is the second in a series of interviews involving the Rational Living household. For the first interview follow this link.

Today's interview is with Eowyn, an energetic, vegetable-loving seven year old.

RM: Do you have any any idea how long we've been rationing?

E: [Counts on fingers] A little over seven months? I have no clue. [Counts on fingers again] Seven and a half months?

RM: Good counting - it's actually closer to eight and a half months. Have you talked to any of your teachers or friends about rationing?

E: When Ms. L asked if we were doing anything for [Sissy's] birthday - a big cake - I said we were doing rationing so it was just going to be two banana cakes. She seemed to understand.

RM: Did she ask any questions?

E: No, she seemed to understand about rationing.

RM: What about your friends?

E: When I was at theater camp and talking to friends they were like, "Whoa!" and "What?!?" Except O., she seemed to understand - she knew about Victory Gardens.

RM: Really?

E: Yeah, I think she reads American Girl books, and she could know about that stuff from Molly's stories.

RM: What has been the hardest part of rationing so far?

E: Not having some of the foods that I really like when I want them - because they might not be available or be scarce that week.

RM: Any foods in particular?

E: Apples, although when it comes to apple orchard time...

RM: Has anything about rationing been easier than you expected?

E: Yes. At the beginning, when we were drawing sticks [for Mr Bowles' Marketplace Scenario Randomizer] I thought dealing with the scenarios would be hard. But it's not bad, we just move meals to another week if we don't already have the stuff like cottage cheese in the fridge or freezer.

RM: We have only a little more than three months left of rationing, is there anything we should do during that time?

E: Like what? I don't understand.

RM: Like make certain foods or something like that.

E: We should make more pickles [sly grin].

RM: What have you thought about the historic recipes?

E: Well, the Victory Pancakes were okay, and the veggie burgers looked nasty but were good. And the heart was awesome!

RM: What about the jellied ham loaf?

E: Eh, it wasn't the best.

RM: And SPAM?

E: Awesome!

RM: So should we eat more SPAM in the next three months?

E: Yes!

RM: Is there anything you are looking forward to doing once rationing is over?

E: Eating more apples - red apples, not the green apples we got from the [CSA bag at the] co-op. And just eating more of the foods we couldn't eat.

RM: What's the first thing you want to eat once rationing is over?

E: Apples, Totino's Pizza. And that macaroni and cheese that comes with the sauce in the pouch.

RM: If someone asked why our family is rationing, what would you tell them?

E: Because my mom used to work at the Historical Society and she knows a lot about WWII rationing and wanted to try it for a year.

RM: Well, that's part of it, but we're also trying to learn something. What do you think we're trying to learn by living on rations?

E: How other people felt during WWII.

RM: Right. And we're also trying to learn what it's like to live with enough...

E: [Interrupting] Rather than too much!

RM: So have you learned something about how people lived during WWII rationing?

E: Yes. It's kinda hard to explain. Some foods like Dorito's weren't invented yet and other foods cost lots of ration points.

RM: Do you think they liked rationing?

E: No.

RM: Do you think they complained about rationing?

E: Yes.

RM: Well, if they didn't like it why did they do it?

E: They wanted to help with part of the War. They wanted the war to be over and for their people to win.

RM: Do you think it was hard work to ration?

E: Yes.

RM: Was it worth it anyway?

E: Yes.

RM: Why is that?

E: Because they wanted to help the War and they ended up winning. Wait - didn't they win?

RM: Yes. So if something is really important, like winning a war, does it sometimes require some extra effort to make it happen?

E: Yes.

RM: Do you think helping the planet is something kind of like that - something really important?

E: Yeah.

RM: What kinds of things might people do to help the planet even though they're inconvenient?

E: Not eat some things that are bad for the Earth. Not use things that take away from the Earth things that it needs. Use things that are good for the Earth - like the soaps we get from [name of store].

RM: Those are good ideas. What about walking more - would that help the planet?

E: Yes, and bicycling so you're not using gasoline for short trips.

RM: All of those things would be better for the Earth, but they could also be inconvenient. Would it be worth it?

E: Yes.

--Rational Mama

Rational Interview: Sissy

2010-09-16T20:28:00.003-05:00

Hard to believe it, but we have just slightly more than three months left of the rationing program. This week was our 38th week of rationing which mean that if you equate it's duration with pregnancy then we're at term. Yikes.

It seems like a fine time for some reflection, so I interviewed family members about the rationing program so far. This first installment is an interview with Sissy, a meat-loving, vegetable-hating preteen.

RM: How long do you think we've been rationing?

S: [Counts on fingers] 100 weeks?

RM: Umm...there are only 52 weeks in a year.

S: [Laughter] Umm...35 weeks?

RM: Good guess - that's really close. We're currently in our 38th week of rationing. Have you told any of your teachers or friends about the rationing project?

S: Mrs. G knows about it and has read some of the blog.

RM: How did you describe it to her at first?

S: I never really described it to her because when I mentioned it I told her and Ms. M about the blog and they just went to the blog and learned about it. I told them that I didn't like it and that it was something from WWII.

RM: Have you told any friends about rationing?

S: I told T. a little, but every time I say something about it she's like, "What's rationing?" I don't know how to explain it.

RM: What has been the hardest part of rationing for you?

S: No apples [when they're not in season]! And I don't like that there isn't as much stuff to go in our lunches - they're not as good.

RM: Do you mean stuff like the prepackaged cracker sandwiches?

S: Yes, and no Fig Newtons. [ Editor's note: on previous exposure Sissy claimed to not like Fig Newtons; Fig Newtons were available on a limited basis during 1940s rationing]

RM: Is there anything about rationing that has been easier than you anticipated?

S: We don't seem to be eating potatoes as often anymore.

RM: Yeah, we ate a lot of potatoes in the winter.

S: That was forever ago!

RM: What are your thoughts on historic recipes?

S: I don't really like any of them. Every time you say it's a historic recipe night I say to myself: [heaves big sigh].

RM: What about the jellied ham loaf?

S: That was weird but okay.

RM: And the heart kabobs?

S: Blech!

RM: What about SPAM?

S: Yum! Yum! Yum!

RM: Should we eat more SPAM during our last three months of rationing?
S: Yes!

RM: Anything else specific we should do during these last months of rationing?

S: Not that I can think of.

RM: What are you looking forward to doing when we're done rationing?

S: Eating Totino's Pizza and apples. Is the blog going to stop when we're done rationing?

RM: I don't know.
S: You could keep writing about what we're doing since we're NOT rationing.

RM: I'll keep that in mind. So, should Totino's and apples be our first meal after rationing?

S: Yes! The morning after Christmas we should wake up and have apples and Totino's for breakfast! Just kidding - we should have homemade cinnamon rolls instead.

RM: We can do homemade cinnamon rolls during rationing - I've made them a couple of times this past year. We just have to be careful with our sugar and butter rations. If someone asked you why our family is rationing, what would you tell them?

S: Because my mom likes history so we decided to try something from WWII.

RM: Well, that's part of it, but we're also trying to learn what it's like to live on enough - rather than too much. Why would that be important?

S: So we're not being greedy.

RM: Does everyone in the world have enough?

S: No.

RM: How might we help with that?

S: Not eat as much so that they have some, too.

RM: Has rationing taught you anything about how people lived in the 1940s during WWII?

S: It wasn't the best time ever.

RM: Do you think they complained about rationing a lot?

S: Maybe.

RM: So even if they didn't like it, why would they do it?

S: Because before the War they might have had enough, but if they didn't has as much [during the War] then [the extra] could go to the soldiers so they could keep fighting.

RM: Was that the right thing to do?

S: Yes, it was important that the soldiers got good food so they could keep fighting.

RM: Does everyone deserve good food?

S: Yes.

--Rational Mama

Rationing Allies

2010-09-11T10:55:00.000-05:00

Okay. The house is officially on the market and life can start to return to normal. Well, normal except for the fact that the house will be in a perpetual state of hyper-cleanliness (while not normal, I do love this feature of the house being for sale). Back to blog!

Friends, I love my husband.

But first, a history lesson.

As complicated as rationing was in the U.S. during WWII there is no doubt that our allies across the pond had it much worse. Not only were U.K. rations much more restrictive and meager, but they experienced more frequent and lasting shortages (not to mention the bombings).

Their period of rationing was also significantly longer than that experienced in the U.S. Whereas U.S. rationing lasted for the better part of three years (roughly 1942 to 1945), rationing in the U.K. lasted a whopping 14 years (1940 to 1954). Of course, that could have been much shorter had the U.S. continued even a modest course of rationing and used the surplus to aid struggling allies in their post-war efforts. But I digress.

There's been some recent attention drawn to WWII rations in the U.K. by the reality TV show "The 1940s House" (you really should watch it if you haven't) and by celebrity chef Jamie Oliver. There are also several examples of modern folks trying out the U.K. ration program (my favorite, of course, is On the Ration).

So it only seems fair that during our own year-long rationing program we honor those allies who had it much worse than us. I mean seriously honor them - not just go with a "Look, I made a Woolten Pie" kinda thing. Which is why a few weeks back I suggested to TMOTH that we give U.K. WWII rations a try for two weeks (one week seemed to easy).

And without much hesitation at all he said, "Okay."

Friends, I love my husband.

So from October 1st to October 15th we will be living on WWII civilian rations from the U.K. What will our rations be for that two week period? Well, just like the U.S., the U.K. rations changed a bit during the course of the War. What we will be following are roughly c. 1945 rations; not the lowest of the low but they're slim enough to make me a little nervous.

Now, I'm at the mercy of Internet sources for this list so please, readers in far distant lands, chime in if I've made any mistakes (Mr. Graham - I need your wisdom!).

Weekly Rations For a Family of Four

Basic Rations
8 oz preserves
8 oz sweets
32 oz sugar
16 oz bacon/ham
16 oz margarine
8 oz loose tea
8 oz butter
8 oz lard
4 oz cheese
4 eggs
4 liters fresh milk (for the girls)
Enough milk power to make 4.8 pints

Meat

The meat ration fluctuated during the War but the figure I've found for 1942 was each person was allowed 1s,2d per week to purchase beef and/or pork. According to the inflation calculator, that would equate to 2.16 pounds today (sorry, my keyboard doesn't have the symbol for British pounds). Under the current exchange rate ($1.00 = .6417 pounds), that would equate to $3.36 per person, per week...or $13.44 per week to buy pork and/or beef for the family.

Fish was not rationed, nor were sausages - but sausages were hard to come by at times.

Tinned Foods, Biscuits, Cereals and Misc.

These items were rationed on a point system and for our two week period we are allowed a total of 12 points. Mr. Graham was nice enough to post a run-down of point values on his blog.

Soap

Yes, even soap was rationed in the U.K. during the War. This includes soap for washing dishes, clothes, household areas and humans. We have four coupons per week to use on soap, and each coupon can buy one of the following:

4 oz hard bar soap

3 oz toilet (scented) soap

1/2 oz liquid soap

6 oz soft soap

3 oz soap flakes

6 oz soap powder

I've found an on-line source from which I can purchase soap flakes, so I'll be ordering them soon.

Fuel

I find references to fuel (both heating and petrol) being rationed in the U.K. during the War, but I can't find any specific information. Can anyone help with this?

Of course, we won't be able to use any of our current cabinet or fuel tank contents during this two week period. It just wouldn't be fair to supplement our U.K. rations with U.S. rations.

We've haven't really laid this out for the girls yet, since the household has been a bit berserk in the rush to get it everything done before it went on the market. Maybe we'll allow them a few days of normalcy before we pop this on them.

And maybe I'll promise them my share of the sweets to get them through it.

--Rational Mama

An Edible Mystery

2010-09-08T10:13:00.000-05:00

We're still plugging away at house projects and rationing, and eating our sandwiches and Ramen...not much cooking going on. Things should start slowing down next week and hopefully the posting here will be more frequent and interesting.

In the meantime, I thought you might like to ponder this Double-Mix ad from a 1943 edition of the Topeka Daily Capital.

Apparently, Double-Mix is a butter extender; at 16 red points per pound butter is definitely one of the most price-expensive rationed items. But what, really, is Double-Mix?

Gelatin? Xanthum Gum? Petroleum Jelly?

Clearly it is something magical, having the ability to double the amount of butter with a little simple cookery. It also, apparently, allows one to have a disembodied, floating head. And hopefully it is something that even today we'd recognize as safe to eat.

I'm sure this worked well for situations where one wanted to spread butter, say toast or muffins. But I imagine it wouldn't work for anything requiring heat.

Thoughts?

--Rational Mama

Of Macaroni and Ramen

2010-08-28T10:13:00.000-05:00

So...

My apologies for the hiatus in posting. We're still on the rationing train, so to speak, but just very busy now that things are getting to crunch time regarding the houses. We're aiming to have our house officially listed on the market by September 10th, which means the next dozen or so days will be filled with lots of painting, floor installation, yard work and such.

In the meantime, I thought you might be interested to know about convenience foods available during rationing since, with all this home repair chaos, convenience foods could be very handy.

Basically, there aren't very many.

There are no frozen pizzas or lasagnas or much frozen anything beyond juice, fruit and vegetables. In true spirit of the rationing program I haven't even been buying those "steam in the bag" vegetables when I do by frozen vegetables.

There are no boxed muffins, granola bars, cereal bars nor boxed meals kits.

What we do have is macaroni and cheese. Kraft's iconic blue box dinner was a new and popular dining option during WWII rationing. Two boxes of macaroni and cheese only cost one red point, which means it was (and is) a very popular vegetarian meal.
Otherwise, the only other convenience food available during rationing were boxed cereals and canned and dehydrated soups. I've written before about cereals here. Canned soups were rationed, but dehydrated soups were not. If you look to the right side of the handy dandy chart you can see an ad for Aunt Jemima's Rich Pea Soup - a dehydrated soup that is proud of it's just-add-water-and-heat approach.

Apparently, the range of options available in the dehydrated soup section of the grocery store was a bit more expansive in the 1940s than today. Grocery store ads reference dried vegetable soups, chicken soups and various types of pureed pea and/or beans soups. Today the dehydrated soup section is smaller than a bread box.

Unless you count Ramen noodles as an option.

Even though Ramen noodles weren't available in the U.S. until the early 1970s we've allowed them during rationing to bring our dehydrated soup availability up to the WWII rationing level.

Historically accurate? No. Filling the void of missing authentic supplies? Yes.

So during these next few weeks when the house is torn up and no one feels like cooking, we will be eating lots of cereal, sandwiches, macaroni and cheese and Ramen.

What are your favorite convenience foods?

--Rational Mama

Screwed

2010-08-19T21:06:00.000-05:00

Take a look at this excerpt from the April 18, 1943 edition of the Topeka Daily Capital:

(You can click on the chart to enlarge the image)

It's a handy dandy chart outlining exactly how much of each vegetable plant needs to be included in your Victory Garden and how many jars of produce should be preserved from the summer bounty to get a patriotic family through the next winter of rationing.

It makes me very unhappy.

The chart recommends 15 tomato plants per person, which would be 60 plants for a family our size, resulting in 120 quarts of preserves for future months. And beans? According to the chart we would need 300 feet of green beans to have enough to eat and preserve the suggested 108 quarts.

Ummm...yeah.

Even if the the summer hadn't pre-baked the tomatoes and eggplants on the vine there is no way we could even get close to these ideals. Despite having gardens in four different parts of town, we have no where near the room to accommodate this large of a plan. And I have to wonder if folks in the 1940s had similar restrictions. Is (and was) the numbers set forth in this chart a realistically obtainable goal?

Let's talk about space first. During WWII many vacant lots were turned into community gardens and businesses frequently allowed employees to garden on their grounds. We are not so lucky today. Here at Rational Living we managed to patchwork four different spaces together in our general area of town, but combined it is still no where near the space needed for 60 tomato plants, 300 feet of beans, 60 feet of lettuce/spinach, 48 feet of carrots, 60 feet of onions, 3200 feet of potatoes, and so on. It's seems like even an acre of suitable land may not be enough to plant all the recommendations in the chart, even if one is being wise and rotating early/late crops in the same space. Was that kind of space really available in during WWII rationing?

And then there's time. Who the heck is keeping up with all this gardening? The weeding, hoeing, pruning, and harvesting can become overwhelming with a modest-sized garden. What about a larger garden? While somewhere around 3/5th of the population gardened during the War, I seriously doubt that a significant portion of those Victory Gardens matched the ideals set forth in the chart above, just based on time considerations alone. And even though it makes sense to think of all those housewives spending their days out in the Victory Gardens before making a delicious SPAM loaf for their loving family's dinner, in reality a large proportion of Victory Gardeners were men. In fact, most of the propaganda surrounding Victory Gardens focuses on men as the growers, with women reduced to the role of harvesters or processors (this is deftly pointed out in Amy Bentley's Eating for Victory: Food Rationing and the Politics of Domesticity).

By the way, the Rational Living experiment mirrors this quite nicely, with TMOTH doing most of the weeding and such while I'm at work, since he is off four days a week. And then I do the canning and other processing on my days off, while he's at work. Sigh.

Anyway, what's my point in all this? My point is that it's really really easy to feel like a failure at Victory Gardening. And I imagine the same was true in the 1940s. With ridiculous charts like the one above it's easy to feel beaten even before you begin. And I'm sure there was always someone else's Victory Garden that was bigger and better than yours.

So yeah, I'm disappointed that our gardens don't match the WWII ideal. And I'll miss having all those preserves to choose from during the winter months. But I won't miss storing all those jars, and I won't regret spending time at the girls' swim meets instead of weeding.

And I won't be defeated. I'm already planning next year's garden.

--Rational Mama

Roasted Garlic

2010-08-18T07:05:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite ways to use our homegrown garlic (besides adding it to pesto) is to roast it. But rather than roasting whole heads of garlic, I roast garlic cloves in oil. By roasting them in olive oil you end up with not only roasted garlic, but a good supply of roasted garlic oil, too!

To accomplish this, peel a dozen or more garlic cloves and place them in a shallow, oven-proof dish (I usually use the glass pie plate for this). I then pour enough olive oil in the dish to cover the garlic cloves.Place the dish into a 370 degree oven for 25-30 minutes and you'll end up with a wonderful aroma in your house and this:

Slightly browned and roasted garlic cloves in bubbling oil. Yum!

Place the garlic cloves in a blender or food processor with a few tablespoons of their cooking oil and puree. This puree will keep in the refrigerator for a few weeks, as will the garlic oil.

The roasted garlic puree and roasted garlic oil can be used in recipes requiring either fresh garlic or regular olive oil.

One of my most favorite things to make with roasted garlic and roasted garlic oil is to use them in a feta cheese spread.

Ingredients
6 oz feta cheese (preferably NOT the low-fat variety)
2 TB roasted garlic oil
2 TB roasted garlic puree
2 TB lemon juice
1 TB minced fresh mint leaves (or 1 tsp dried mint leaves)

Puree all items in food processor or blender. A bit more oil can be added if the texture isn't quite creamy enough.
This spread is amazing on bread (regular or toasted), as a pasta topper or as a sandwich spread.

But I never make too many plans for one batch, because it never seems to last long in our house!

--Rational Mama