Channeling Ancestors, Growing & Baking
Quarantine day 27, almost a month since the lock-down began in France. It’s groundhog day, times 27 and my tracking of the passage of time is not getting any better, but we’re making do.
The good news is that the COVID-19 curve seems to be flattening, at least here in Southern Europe. In Spain and Italy infection numbers have slowed significantly, and in France new admissions to intensive care are down, so hopefully the rest of the numbers will follow soon too.
We’re all crossing fingers & paws….
The bad news is that we’ve probably got another month or more to go before we “open back up” and exactly how we do that, or what happens when we do is still a big fat question-mark. Hopefully science will give us some answers (global immunity testing? an effective antiviral treatment?), but until then we’re not getting out of the woods anytime soon.
These are unparalleled times….
Our Lives Are Lived Within 1 km
In the meantime our entire life is confined here, within these walls (or 1 km of it, if you include “authorized exercise space”), so I’ve been focusing inwards, contemplating this phase of our lives, homesteading, planting, baking….and, more recently, channeling my ancestors.
No I’m not talking to the dead (at least that I know of…..although the mind does go a bit fuzzy in confinement), but I have been looking back to a life before the internet & the freedom of travel in a world without boundaries. A life that seems curiously pertinent to our current time.
I’m from farming stock you see, or at least half of me is. Decades ago my mothers side of the family lived in rural Denmark, on a large farm with land & animals. It was a hard, but simple life that moved with the seasons and the harvest on the farm. Planting & growing in the spring, labor throughout summer, harvest & culling in fall and long, cold winters where activity stopped and you lived from what came before. What lay beyond the borders of the farm was not important, and what you couldn’t produce yourself you either bartered for, or went without.
Our modern life is nothing like this of course. We live a life of luxury with electricity, running water and appliances & machines that do almost everything for us. But we are also in the countryside, next to farmers who still live much the same as they have for decades, raising their animals and working the land. The lock-down hasn’t changed any of that and in fact seems to have brought everyone closer, both to each other and the knowledge of the gifts from the land we live on.
And yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about this….
Our time here has given us the chance to re-connect with the countryside, and this confinement period has only intensified that. I have no idea how all this madness will end, or how we will all be changed afterwards (for we most certainly will). The implications of this time could be far-reaching, both financially and socially, for everyone in the world. Perhaps we’ll all become more compassionate, or we’ll just forget and go back to the internet of modern life, but perhaps some of us will seek the kinds of lives that were lived before (homesteading as the new “hot” trend?). The latter certainly seems a likely right path now.
Either way, that’s the way we’re headed and I’m drawing on as much of that old Danish know-how as I can.
We’re Growing Stuff
They say farming sticks in your genes, and my mother was certainly proof that. Despite all her years living internationally, mom never lost her green thumb and could always grow just about anything, from anything, anytime.
Every summer holiday we’d fly back to Denmark, and within a month we’d magically have a full veggie garden bursting with edible produce, together with a colorful abundance of flowers, roses, fruit and more. Plus everything would be used, preserved & conserved with not a smidgen wasted. How she managed to make all that happen in such a short time was always a bit of a mystery to me, although I did spend an inordinate amount of my childhood weeding, and she did pass along one or two secrets along the way…
“Du skal tale med planterne, så vokser de bedre”
(you must talk to the plants, then they grow better)
That and something about using dried blood on roses. Apparently, it’s a sure thing.
I didn’t inherit all those mad skills, but I’ve always had a knack of getting things to grow so I must carry a little of it in my genes. Plus I do talk to my plants, without fail. It’s therapeutic for me, and really does seem to work for them, so who’s to say it doesn’t work? When we lived in apartments I grew a selection of flowers, herbs & potatoes (I’m Danish, can’t live without them), when we traveled in the RV it was more herbs, and since we moved to France that’s expanded quite a bit more.
Our herb garden here now has at least 15 varieties of aromatics from thyme (lemon, and regular) to sage, oregano, tarragon, parsley, chives, rosemary, mint & more. Plus we have an abundance of fruit and nut trees, both of which yielded masses of fresh fruit, jams & chutneys last year.
This year, quite appropriately we’ve decided to branch out to veggies too.
As it happens garden centers are still open, considered “essential businesses” in the countryside for food plants specifically (i.e. not flowers and such), so last week I was able to sneak into my local horticulturist with my home-mask & a pair of gloves and get my hands on salad plugs as well as tomatoes, beetroot and onions. Score! Plus we’ve got a selection of seeds going, including some chili plants. I’ve got no idea if we can make it all work, but I’m betting on the family genes and my plant whispering gift. Either way should be interesting to see how it all turns out.
I’m Baking A Ton
The other thing I’ve been channeling from the family history is baking.
My great-grandmother was actually a master chef who cooked for some fancy family back in the day. All she had at the time was a wood-burning cast iron stove (just like this one) with no means of regulation except how much fuel you put in it and how many rings you took off the top, and yet she wielded that thing with precise expertise. There was literally nothing she couldn’t make, just by feel & touch, and she used it well into her 90’s producing the most amazing stuff out of it.
I don’t have those gifts….
I’m decent with veggies and I make a pretty mean salad, but Paul is actually the master cook in our family and really good at it too (yup, I’m a lucky, lucky gal). That said, I do have one cooking super-power, and that’s baking.
There’s something about the science of baking that just speaks to my geeky soul. There’s enough consistency in the art to make it thoroughly scientific, yet enough variation (humidity, moisture, altitude etc.) to make it a real mental challenge.
When we lived in the RV I baked consistently, mostly gluten-free at the time. I made everything from cookies to cakes & muffins, plus I always had a gluten-free sourdough starter on-the-go. The latter was a particular challenge, especially as the starter changed moods and temperament quite frequently, as we traveled from dry deserts to moist forest, but it was always a fun challenge to keep it going.
Here in France I’ve gotten back into it, both gluten-free & “regular” stuff and now I’ve got help too.
For my birthday last year I got a new stand mixer, a Swedish wonder of a machine called the Ankarsum Original 6230. It took a bit of a learning curve to get up to speed with it, but that thing is a frikkin’ power-house and whips out silky smooth bread dough like I’ve never seen. I’ve now become pretty darn proficient with it and have been baking every week, much to the delight of our taste-buds, but also {{ahem}} to the somewhat detriment of our waistlines.
Let’s just say, I won’t be posting any “influencer” bikini photos in the near future….
Oh, And We Got Our First Local Farmers “Drive” Order
Remember that local farmer produce thing I told you about in the last post? Turns out it was a huge success, so much so that the gal who created it even got interviewed by the papers. Going local is apparently ALL the range, even here in SW France.
Anyway we picked up our first order yesterday, which included local spelt flour (for my bakery experiments), eggs, potatoes, asparagus and much more. Everything was superbly fresh and we’re definitely doing it again. At this rate, we’ll be buying everything local, even our wine & alcohol. Not a bad development if you ask me.
So, that’s about the gist of it for this groundhog week. More of the same, yet lots of new, and a good smidgen of “old” thrown in as I try to channel my farmer ancestors. We’re a far ways off our old free-wheelin’ RV days, but I guess that’s all part of how this life thing works. I’ll let you know where things go from here…
HAPPY EASTER, everyone!
I can’t even imagine being held to 1 KM, Nina. That’s hard. This entire experience has really helped me appreciate what the life of a lighthouse keeper must’ve been like.
Yes of course, the life of lighthouse keepers. I don’t know why that hadn’t occurred to me. I actually really like that analogy. We don’t have to work nearly as hard as they did of course (no night shifts going on here!), but it makes me happy to think I might be channeling a little of them too.
Nina
For the year I was a light house keeper I mostly didn’t want to leave. (USCG Light Station Pt Robinson, Burton Is, Washington, I was the low man of 3 stationed there). Day to day work and a mostly private shore to explore gave me plenty to do.
I must admit that this lockdown did not remind me of that time… too many years back? I really had nowhere to go back then? That was life on an island (a true island, no bridge) & island life automatically limits things?
Hang in there, in time this will pass!
We raised sheep & planted an acre of veggies & fruits. Like you said nothing was wasted. My parents butchered & grandma made beef jerky for winter. We had a cellars one by garden & one at home. In fall it was filled with pumpkins, squash, corn, beans and chili among other things. Pig fat was strained & stored in coffee cans. I lived on the Navajo reservation with no electricity or running water. We hauled water from afar & stored them in barrels at various places…near sheep corral, near the field, & at home. We finally got a windmill in my teens & I was able to take baths & wash my hair without worrying about wasting water. My mom was a good cook and so was my dad. My dad learned to cook using Dutch ovens while working at military outpost with his father. He made biscuits, pies, stews & soups and just about anything including breads & biscuit. I watched & learned a few from both parents & have a couple of Dutch ovens. Those were the days of wine and roses
I wish I’d learnt to cook with a Dutch oven. That’s another thing my great-grandmother used back in the day. And yes nothing was ever wasted on the farm….if an animal was slaughtered everything was used including the blood (for blood sausage), the head (for pâté) and of course all the innards. My ancestors didn’t eat a ton of meat, but what they did have they raised themselves & used every bit of.
Nina
Amazon sells dutch ovens & there are a lot of sites that show you how. I followed a blog where there this lady cooked in her dutch ovens for 365 days…. http://dutchovenmadness.blogspot.com/p/the-1st-year.html
I love it! “With the bad comes the good” my mom used to say and I always try to look for the good in any situation. Sometimes it’s harder to find than others but I keep trying.
Looking back to my childhood, we always had a large garden and when Dave and I were first married we also had one. Sweet corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, carrots, herbs, rhubarb, pumpkins, etc. We used to plant “extra” for the raccoons who had an uncanny ability to tell the exact time the corn was ready to pick. Then time became a precious commodity and money became more available so we let the garden go and bought our produce locally. Who knows what the future will bring?
I tried growing potted tomatoes at the lake but our sweet little Golden would sneak down and pick the ripe ones before we could. We blamed their disapperance on the coons until we saw her quietly helping herself one day!
Stay safe and keep writing. It’s comforting to hear and see what friends are doing these days.
I love your tomato story!! Polly has actually discovered wild asparagus here and goes absolutely nuts for it. So everyday we have to go down and check out the “asparagus patch” for her. We’ll have to see what she thinks about the tomatoes when they come around….
Nina
It all sounds great! I come from folks that used to harvest and can everything! I used to do so in my Suzy Homemaker days. I love to bake and try new recipes, and for Easter, a carrot cake is in the works. It would be lovely to receive farm fresh goods, but I don’t think that will happen until we ever settle down. Your garden looks lovely.
Ahhhhh carrot cake. Now you’ve got me thinking…..I’m going to have to find a recipe!!
Nina
Hi! I’ve not commented before but have been following you for a while. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your blog, especially at this time. It has been fascinating to hear about the “shutdown” in France and how that is being implemented. We are in northern Virginia and, oddly perhaps, can very much relate to what you are writing. Things here have struck us rather similarly — I am baking, growing herbs, and finding new appreciation for old-fashioned ways. It brings us together in a really lovely way. I’d also like to say that your tributes to Taggart and Rand were utterly beautiful. Detailed and loving and a reminder of how much we humans are alike — we all love our furry friends, as we love each other. Thank you, stay safe, and know that your messaging makes a difference.
Thank you so much for your lovely comment. I think many are looking back to the “old ways” during this time, and yes perhaps that’s a smidgen of good that can come out of all this. Going back to the land, and buying/raising everything locally would IMO not be a bad trend.
Nina
sounds like a lot more fun than we are having…Stiff upper lip as they say….
Oh Nina, I’d love to see you in a bikini…. I think, EVERYBODY eats more in these crazy times, it’s comforting and – wow, while I’m writing this it hit me that so many many people don’t even have ENOUGH to eat and in this global crisis even less and i can only feel the privilege again for all of us who have this luxury!
And maybe that thought and the state of this planet relates to your lively description of gardening and homecooking/baking, maybe one of the positive outcome is to become more self-sufficient again, living more minimalistic, down-sizing, to really have ENOUGH instead of MORE.
This trend is definitely there already. I lived for over 30 years in the southwest states of the US and I’ve met many “back-to-the-land” groups, living off the grit. And here in northern Germany, where I now live, oasis and experiments of this kind popping up at every corner, even in cities. It’s beautiful and it gives hope.
It’s always such a delight when one of your posts shows up first thing in the morning! You speak with such such eloquence, expertise and yet with so much heart and soul-juice (!) to your friends and to the one who found you perchance (as I did) online, and I can imagine the many good seeds you’re planting in people’s consciousness and how much comfort you give sharing your own experiences of the ups and downs of life.
For example your deep loss of your two precious cat babies might be a bit less harsh with all your enthusiasm now of growing and making things, life-affirming and literally creating new life in the simplest form.
Thank you for all this, Nina – and keep going with your beautiful work, for all of us! Hanna
My Mom used to bake bread on a wood stove. Ours had the water jacket at one end for the “hot water” used for bathing. Not enough of it either. Now, I used to think she baked two loaves a day, but my older sister affirmed that she’d bake six to ten loaves at a time. So (and I’ll have to ask her) I’m not sure she would do that daily. I do remember my Dad saying, “have a piece of bread, it’ll make it go farther”, referring to the meal on my plate. Many times there were no seconds.
I’ve never come across that mixer. It looks awesome. We have two “stand mixers”, so I suspect we wouldn’t be switching brands anytime soon. I guess however, if making heaps of bread, they’d crap out in fairly short order.
Thanks for taking the time. Carry on.
Wow, I love your posts!! Makes me so sentimental! Thinking of our pasts, family’s and our whole life!
I also have been planting herbs and scored one tomato plant! Only in planters here due to area deer who scour our neighborhood looking for anything edible!
( they love vegetables & flowers)!
So lots of gardening, walking ( we are allowed to walk with social distancing)
Sewing, cooking, eating too!
Again, love your posts Nina❣️ Thank you!
Big hug to you and Paul
Margaret
Michael took some photos of me in the masks I am making and I quickly thought, “those things aren’t being posted anywhere!” My hair is so long, I’ve gained weight through all this–nope, no photos! I grew up on a farm in Arkansas–we lived next to my Dad’s parents and both our houses had huge gardens. I must admit as a teenager I really didn’t appreciate that garden as much as I should have–being left big baskets of peas to shell while Mom and Dad were at work didn’t appeal so much. It’s almost impossible to garden at 5200 feet in Montana, I’ve tried but we are thinking maybe a small greenhouse might be in order. Your little garden looks GREAT!
I so look forward to your posts . . .you provide a “grounding” moment in these chaotic times . . .feeling blessed to have you in our lives . . .
Hi Nina, great blog, keep them coming, they are wonderful to read. We had been scheduled to come to France in May, rent an RV, tour around for a month to see how it all might work out for us. But, alas, no such luck, everything cancelled, and it will be at least a year until we can try again. So, you are the closest thing we have to that experience! You’re our inspiration for that trip, in any event. Stay safe, keep writing.
I do hope you get here before too long. It’s a wonderful country to RV, but it may be a while before things open up again completely. And thanks for following along too 🙂
Nina
Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
❤️
Great read….. Be Safe and Bless you
Kære Nina.
Tusind tak for de skønne billeder og dine dejlige beskrivelser.
Jeg ved ikke om den gård du viser er den, hvor Karin boede mens vi gik i skole. Hvis det er, har jeg besøgt den. Fabelagtigt. Jeg lærte din mor at kende i 1956 og vi sad sammen i de to år, vi gik på Tølløse Baptistskole.
I maj skulle vi have mødtes os gamle elever, os der er tilbage. Men på grund af de skrækkelige tilstande vi har nu, er det aflyst, og udsat til 2021. Forhåbentlig er vi stadig 12 tilbage til den tid. Vi var 31 i klassen.
Mit fødselsdagsønske, da jeg fyldte 70 år i 2012, var at besøge Karin. Vi kørte derned med vores camplet og havde en vidunderlig, men våd tur. https://www.jottacloud.com/s/11958793b1df6824f78b2eccaab2a604bd0 Besøg hos Karin og Lars.
Kærlige hilsner til jer alle fra Anni
Ja, det er meget mugligt at den gård var den samme som du kendte i sin tid (jeg tror det faktisk nok)! Utroligt at taenke at i kendte hindanden den gang på landet. Tak for minden, og din video om jeres besøg her in 2012. Rigtig dejligt at se!
Nina
Minder er dejlige. Vi kan rejse tilbage og have nogle skønne ture i vores tanker,
Kærlig hilsen Anni
I think it’s blood meal rather than dried blood for the veggies. The also like bone meal. My mother used to compost when we lived in Falls Church, VA. She had an amazing garden. Too bad I was too young and stupid to learn something from her. Anyway, your mixer looks super industrial and awesome. I don’t have one anymore, but haven’t had a problem statement that would compel me to buy one. Cheers to you all!
Here in France it’s called “sang desséché” (dried blood), but my mother always just called it “blod” (blood). It’s probably blood meal though, as you say. We did put it around the roses this year, and they’re already going nuts, so I think mom was right. Like you, I wish I’d retained more of all that…we were so young…so naive.
Nina
Thank you for being a sane and intelligent person. Whenever I miss that, (a lot lately), I come here to ‘visit’ you.
Great job on your mask. Tre’ chic!
Will you opt to don them in public for quite awhile?
For now yes. I’m using a mask every time I go out, and plan to continue doing so until the virus situation improves. It feels really odd to wear one the first time, but you do get used to it.
Nina
My wife must have the gene. Since we lived in an apartment in Beechwood Canyon in L.A. 37 years ago, she’s had at least herbs growing in every sun-friendly window. At our house in Hermosa Beach she had a 40 sq foot garden in the front (south) yard called, of course, The South 40. From that she could share vegetables with the neighbors. Now she has so much room and produces so much food that she can feed everyone we know and still be able to can some. But since no one is able to move around as freely, they are asking her to teach them how to garden and can on their own. She also bakes a lot of bread (which gets shared with the mailman, UPS and FedEx drivers, and her friends) and they are now asking her how to bake, also. They are also curious as to how we are so well stocked. We may come away with some increased skills and knowledge that will serve everyone well in the future. Well, I hope!