Since Ken’s death I have been unable to weave. I thought I would find comfort in a familiar solo activity. But, no; each time I sat at the loom I would weep. I started burying it as I cleaned and cleared elsewhere. I kept wondering why, why, why. No answers came. Was it because each break I look up and see Ken’s desk, his clothes, where he did yoga? No, I could do other things …
I took a year off gardening. Why? Well, I knew I could not do it as we had and I had no idea how I wanted to garden alone. Quantity, for example. But i do miss walking to my root cellar and having a second pantry – of “fresh” food. This morning I realized I have quite a bit of local food for my meal. No, the rice is not local; nor is the ginger …
When Ken and I raised pigs, I grew accustomed to rendering and cooking with lard. Before you say eeew, let me point out a few things: people have used lard for eons – it is not some created or highly processed oil or hydrogenated fat. If the pigs are outside it has the “sun vitamins” like D. I can use less and cook hotter than most other fats and oils. A friend asked why one …
