In a parallel universe

I'd be an eco-warrior.  There, I've said it.  There are some regrets I have about the way this life is lived in this consumerist society we call the UK.  We all have choices to make, and these choices have consequences.  Such is life....

I'm quietly passionate about saving the planet.  I believe this is best done by careful use of our resources - be it energy (keeping heating down / improve insulation - saves on the bills and reduces the greenhouse effect), transport (food miles, people miles, pollution, carbon emissions), choosing recycling / upcycling / freecycling and by trying as much as I can to be anti-consumer - in that I'm not influenced by the global brands and shop purposefully in charity shops and the like - I hope in some small way to 'tread lightly' and do as little harm to the planet as I realistically can.

When we were on summer holiday this year I read a book called 'The Moneyless Man' by Mark Boyle.

The premise was: 'is it possible to live for a year in the UK without money?'.  The surprising answer is yes.  If you're a fit young man, it would appear that is it absolutely possible to live for a year without money.  He planned it carefully, found a place to pitch his freecycled caravan for free (in exchange for 3 days of work on a farm each week), and was attuned to eating seasonally and in glut and from the supermarket bins he and his friends raided regularly.

The book highlighted the amount of waste that goes on - food waste from supermarkets being an especial bugbear, but to my mind he was preaching to the converted.  Whilst idealistic in the extreme, I had to admire his stance, and his gumption for sticking it out, and although some of his practices would be difficult if not impossible to translate into everyday living for the majority, it gave me hope.  That there are still dreamers out there.

Here's a link to tell you more about it:  http://www.moneylessmanifesto.org/the-moneyless-man-book/

Apparently he's now been doing it for three years.  I'm impressed.  There are certain things I couldn't do without.  Hot running water (showers); no matter how bad on food miles I need my tea 'normal style' not nettle; and with certain issues pertaining to the menopause (it's an age thing) I've discovered that I function much better, on many levels, by ditching dairy and replacing it with soya.  He's a 35 year old male.  I'm an almost 50 year old female.  Some things don't compare.

But his aspirations appeal to the essential me, to the teenage me, to the rebellious me and to the me before me.  In a parallel universe I'd be ... more me than I feel I am.  This probably explains a lot.  Well, it makes sense to me at least!

Night night y'all.

Kat

Decisions, decisions.....

I should have included Joy Division, 'Love Will Tear Us Apart,' in my previous lists for Desert Island Discs, an omission I can't quite believe I made. This does now beg the question which track to remove?  I don't think I'll ever get a definitive list, it's too difficult a quandry.

Summer is drawing to a close, and Autumn's fingers are creeping up on us, a certain chill in the morning when letting the hens out, and the nights drawing in again.  The greenhouse project from April/May this year has been a huge success.  Those cynics amongst you might say 'well, is it really worth it to spend £70 or so just to have tomatoes?'  To which I say:  'Voila!'

and, well, yes. I suppose it has cost me £70 or so to have tomatoes this year, but next year it won't cost that, and the year after that, and so on.  And it's not just tomatoes, there's peppers and my aubergine plant as well.  The next decision is what to plant next year, and what to cook with the crop this year.

The summer holidays are so busy, working, taking children here and there, playdates, and all the usual chores.  In all this whirlwind I've been somewhat distracted by my new job.  The interview was in the middle of July, but I don't start until the 19th September, so I won't say much about it here until I'm in the driving seat and have the keys in my hand, so to speak.

The hens are on their last legs. They had a very rough winter with the flooding (see Jan/Feb blogs), and they both seem to have stopped laying.  The paler one never really re-feathered and her shells had been dubious for most of this year.  Shell quality is an indicator of the condition of the bird, and will decline with age.  I'm fairly certain she's not laid for about a month.  The darker one moulted in the middle of the flooding (with the shock?) and re-feathered nicely.  She maintained laying, but we've not had any eggs at all since 2nd August.

I decided to buy some eggs in order to put off the decision of what to do with the hens.  What decision?  I hear you ask.  Well.  The hens, whilst being decorative and entertaining, are livestock, and not pets.  If they're not laying they're not earning their keep.  In my previous experience I've had to despatch birds which aren't laying because they've gone 'mucky' at their back-end.  These two are obviously aging, but both having maintained a clean back-end so far, I'm loathe to despatch them yet.

It's a fine balance of judgement, but one which has been swayed by the quality of the eggs I bought.  I chose 'free range' 'organic'.  Not good enough.  I suppose in keeping my own birds for almost 10 years I've become choosy about the quality I seek.  We had 1 of our eggs left in the fridge along with the 6 I bought, and I was making 'eggy bread' or 'french toast' as it is also known.

Our egg's yolk was the deep rich gold, almost orange colour which we've become accustomed to.  The shop bought ones had yolks which were smaller, and although they looked yellow, they paled in comparison, literally, and paled even more when beaten.  I was disappointed, but more interestingly, so were Phoebe and Tom.

So, the decision is made.  Come pay-day, I'll get another couple of hens at point of lay, and then when the time is right, I'll have to do the logical thing, and say goodbye to the two who aren't pulling their weight.

Ah, me.  Decisions, decisions.  But not the chocolate box conundrum.  Speaking of which, I'd really fancy a chocolate.  Ho hum, trying to get 'fit by 50' probably means I shouldn't.  And as there aren't any in the house I'll have to make do with a hot chocolate instead.

Keeping it sweet y'all ....  Kat  :)