Showing posts with label Urban Homesteading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urban Homesteading. Show all posts

Monday, 29 September 2014

Salsa in September

 
The last tomatoes of the season are hanging on the vine in my container garden. I have to admit it has been a little bit of a disappointing gardening year. I've had lots and lots of container gardening fails. Some from my over-exhuberance planting (ahem...over-crowding) and some from crappy, cold weather. But there are always the last tomatoes of the year and one more opportunity to make salsa. This is another Mary Murphy gem and likely the recipe I get the most requests for. It was even written up in a very cool DIY Canning 'Zine called CanIt! A Collection of Stories, Recipes and D.I.Y. Food Politics under the (slightly misnamed) "Sarah's Sexxxy Salsa". Enjoy!


Thursday, 28 August 2014

Canning Season is Upon Us

Mary in front of Notre Dame, Paris, 2013.
It's been a cold, wet summer here in Ontario but us canners are dedicated to the art of food preservation. We know that pulling out a jar of homemade jam in February will help us through the winter grumps.

The requests for favourite Peace Flag House recipes are pouring in. Rather than a load of individual emails and messages, I've included the recipe for Cucumber Relish below. I can't claim a smidgen of credit for this recipe or any of our other favourites. They are all the incredible creation of Mary Murphy, my canning guru and Pascal's Mom.

This womyn is truly a canning genius and we're the beneficiary of her best culinary creations.  We love you Mary!



Friday, 28 February 2014

Dreaming on Fridays

It's -25C. Again.

Juliana and I keep dreaming of seed starting and debating how we should divvy up the resources of our backyards - who should grow what?

The need to dream in green continues.

A great article from Radical Montreal on starting seeds.

From Radical Montreal.

Another from Mother Earth News.

From Mother Earth News.

And for inspiration...
Have you read Farm City?
This is Novella Carpenter. She raised pigs in her backyard in Oakland, CA. 
Whoa.

From PBS: The Lexicon of Sustainability: Local


Friday, 7 February 2014

Dreaming on Fridays

I think we all need a little time to dream while we are in the depths of winter. After writing about Nana and Bucko and all their making, I'm dreaming about all the jimmy-rigging I've done and all the jimmy-rigging I'd like to do.

Oh Pete. You're the best.
Some of my making...
Materials: Old t-shirt, Old dishcloth, Old tea towel.

Re-set yarn from an old sweater.

Some of the things I'm dreaming of making...

This summer I want to jimmy-rig some gutter gardens. 



Knitty Knotty: How hard could it be to make one of these?

Or one of these? (Skein winder)

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Just Like Nana: DIY Laundry Powder


My Nana and Bucko could make anything. Nana and Bucko (the name I christened my Grandfather with when I was three...it's a long story) tended a huge kitchen garden, kept bees and were generally makers and fixers of a lot of stuff. They could "jimmy-rig" anything with skills they learned as children of WWII and the Great Depression. They grew up with the need to make. Unwittingly, they passed that need on to me.

Make It vs Buy It

I spent my formative years with Nana and Bucko, working around the farm, in the garden, in the kitchen, making, fixing and jimmy-rigging through the days.  I now live in Toronto, Canada's largest urban centre (I'm still slightly shocked by my location), but my need to make, fix and jimmy-rig continues. Thankfully, I've found a partner who shares these needs: Pascal is a skilled carpenter, home-renovator and repair person who works carefully and thoughtfully through each of his projects.

I've also discovered that I am far from alone in my desire to make. The vast online DIY resources and the growing field of Urban Homesteading suggests that many of us are beginning to reclaim and re-imagine our homes as spaces of production. Since the Industrialization Revolution our homes, (especially our urban homes), have steadily become spaces of almost exclusive consumption; we purchase items and consume them in our homes -- shampoo, laundry detergent, vegetables, clothes, bedding, make up, etc. Although many of these products do not require complicated ingredients or advanced skills, very rarely do we make those items in our home.

Annie Leonard suggests in the Story of Stuff that in addition to the environmental and social devastation caused by the globalized industrial material economy, participating in consumption over production also means we need a growing stream of financial income that we can trade for all of the items we are not making. In response, we quickly hop on the consumer treadmill, selling our time for money and becoming quite adept at consumption.




We could go on here, delving into a Marxist analysis of labour and the means of production, but I think the lives of my Nana and Bucko are just as persuasive. Rather than "whole hog" participation in consumption, they provided for many of their own needs by making, fixing, growing and yes, jimmy-rigging.  This meant less time "working out" (off the farm) and more time teaching me how to find the kittens in the hay mow, how to compost, how to pick blackberries, how to fix a lamp, how to approach a beehive, the list goes on. They spent much of their time with me and they had the time to spend because they often chose to make rather than buy.  

Because Pascal and I like to make sure we are wisely exchanging our work hours for money and are spending the proceeds carefully, we often chose to make over buy. Making something can mean practicing our skills, learning new ones and investing our income in ourselves. It also means we get to fill our creative drives to make.

Laundry Detergent: You Have to Start Somewhere

A few months ago I looked at the cleaning cupboard and saw a lot of expensive "green" labels starring back at me. Nana's cleaning cupboard contained a few large glass jars full of different powders, a couple of spray bottles and a lot of rags. Her house was clean, always smelled fresh and she wasn't buying expensive cleaning products. I wanted to simplify the cleaning products of Peace Flag House, making them safer, greener and economical. I didn't want to spend my income on pretty plastic bottles. I decided to start by making my own Laundry Detergent.

According to Make It: Radical Home Ec for a Post-Consumer World, I needed the following:
1. Borax
2. Ivory Soap
3. Baking Soda
4. Washing Soda

Washing soda had me stumped. I searched 4 grocery stores with no luck. Eventually I found it in Kensington Market at Essence of Life, but not before I discovered from Holly Homemaker that I could also DIY washing soda. To make washing soda one must simply bake baking soda. The world is an amazing place.

How To Make Washing Soda:

Spread a thin layer (approximately 1/4") of baking soda on a glass or tin baking dish and bake between 400 - 450C for approximately an hour.  Stir around a couple of times during that hour.  The water and carbon dioxide molecules will magically release into the air, thereby changing Sodium Bicarbonate (Baking Soda) into Sodium Carbonate (Washing Soda).

You'll know it's ready when you compare unbaked baking soda to the newly baked washing soda. Baking soda looks fluffy and a little shiny, whereas washing soda looks gritty and flat.

Note: I often make a batch of washing soda on the second rack of the oven while I'm baking something else. If the temperature is lower than 400C it will take somewhat longer than a hour, but not much in my experience.

Peace Flag House Laundry Powder

With washing soda now in abundance I made my first batch of Laundry Powder with great success. The recipe is below but don't feel confined to these ratios. This is a general guideline that should be tweaked to fit your needs and preferences. Feels good to know you'll never have to haul a case of 7th Generation home on the subway every again, eh?


Peace Flag House
Laundry Powder

Serves: approximately 30-40 loads
Prep Time: 15 min + hour to make washing soda


Ingredients
2 parts
Washing soda
1 part
Borax
1 part
Shredded Ivory Soap
1 part
Baking soda

Instructions
1:
 Using a cheese grater, shred 1 part of Ivory Soap.
2:
Combine washing soda, borax, baking soda and Ivory Soap in lidded container. Mix well.
3. Use approximately 1 tbsp. of mix per load. Adjust according to need.

Notes
These ingredient amounts are offered as guidelines and can be adjusted according to your needs and preferences. I have found that clothes washed with this laundry powder should not be left wet in the washing machine for a long period of time as it will produce an odor. However, this is true of wet clothes in general.
I use this recipe in my High Efficiency, front-load washer.





Thursday, 29 August 2013

Coming Home




Peace Flag House has been quietly rolling along this summer with the support of my brother, James. Our downstairs neighbours have moved on (good luck Caitlin and Olivia!), my cousin came and went as his housing needs shifted, our new downstairs neighbour has moved in (welcome Reagan!), and our roommate Erica has departed for law school (good luck!). All of this coming and going while Pascal and I joined a group of fantastic students in Guatemala for two weeks and then jumped continent for five weeks and explored the worlds of Belgium, Paris, Copenhagen, Athens, Santorini, Crete and Iceland.

I have so much to share about our travels. Living in an intentional community and learning from the experiences of former guerrilla fighters at Nuevo Horizonte. The process of connecting with family across oceans, generations and language. Learning to slow down and share a meal Euro-style. Observations on riot police, Athens and austerity measures. The ways in which tourism can replicate the processes of gentrification. Delving into beach culture and body acceptance. Learning to hug my fears of deep dark water and high cliff edges and keep moving forward. Discovering the raw beauty of the world's youngest land mass. Falling in love with Icelandic knitting culture.


I'm bouncing with inspiration, ideas and energy to incorporate back into our Peace Flag House. But today I needed to set aside all of these thoughts to focus on heima, the Icelandic word for home. I needed to come home and rediscover the beauty of knowing a place.


Arriving back in Toronto was a little tough. Both Pascal and I fell in love with Iceland, which made leaving difficult. Not to mention the anti-joys of airport travel: line up, line up again, line up some more, move to the next line up, repeat. Although we were picked up by our fabulous neighbours and friends, (thank you Juliana and Carlos!), driven home and fed homemade channa and cider, the first few days in Toronto felt like putting on a sweater that has shrunk a little.


I woke up this morning feeling like a grumpy mushroom: mushy, lumpy, and wanting dark places to brood over my irritation with life.  Despite my desire to complain and whine, I decided that it was a good time to take a long walk and avoid picking fights.  So I gifted Relish and I with a long walk through the Magwood and along the river.


My broody mood was thick and heavy but I felt myself starting to settle a little as I noticed the jewel weed had begun to blossom along the trail. The false sunflowers were popping open by the river bank. My favourite wild flower, chicory, was glowing blue amongst the green of Queen Anne lace. The more I noticed the more I remembered to breathe.




Chestnuts, walnuts and acorns were beginning to stain the side walk underfoot.  The addition to the neighbourhood elementary school was nearing completion. Tomatoes were weighing on the vine in a front yard garden and the Rose of Sharon was in bloom around the corner.  Life had kept moving forward while we were gone and I could see its tracks.


This must be what place-based educators speak about: knowing a place is to be in an intimate relationship with it.  Recognizing its patterns, its moods, its seasons and its expressions.  I love the adventure of travel and exploration,  but there is a fulfillment in knowing a place from the inside.  Even if I don't stay forever, I know this little corner of Toronto.


After taking in the smell of late summer growth in the Magwood, a nice journaling session along the river and some play time with Relish, it felt good to come home to Peace Flag House and dream about how all our adventures will be woven into the fabric of our home, our lives and our community.


Friday, 3 February 2012

The Chicken Keepers: Rogue Egg Eaters


 

Growing up on the farm I raised chickens to make the money needed to pay for my winter after-school activity of figure skating. I raised 300 chickens at a time. Yep, 300. I was a kid raising 300 chickens. Successfully. Sure, I hated having to find someone (a sibling) to do my chores when I went to a sleep-over, but I did it and without any major communicable disease outbreaks or serious public health concerns.

This week I received an urgent message from a friend (who must remain anonymous because the chicken police are out) asking if I could take her chickens. 3 chickens. 3 lovely, living, breathing egg-layers. The City of Toronto, in it's infinite wisdom, has decided that even thinking about discussing a potential study into urban chickens needs to be deferred indefinitely. The result is the continued enforcement of the anti-chicken bylaws when there is a complaint (although it certainly feels like a post-vote crack down).

Chickens are lovely creatures. They eat slugs, poop nitrogen on our gardens and provide eggs free of charge. All we have to do is keep out the coyotes and raccoons, provide a snug coop and hide them from the bylaw officers. They are the perfect circular economy. Energy In = Energy Out.

And (!) chickens are friendly pets. Much less social and environmental harm goes into buying a chicken than a budgie or a cockatoo. Chickens like people (especially people with food) and will ride around on your shoulder. I had two pet chickens growing up (in addition to the 300) named Bonnie and Clyde. They lived in our wee chicken barn, however I also knew a womyn who had a pet chicken named Liberty who lived in the house. Lovely bird, Liberty was.  Did you know that you can put a chicken to sleep by tucking its head under its wing and rocking it gently? It's true. I've done it.

Want to teach your children about responsibility, caring for living creatures and the cycle of life? Get them chickens. Christmas next year could be much more interesting with a couple of fluffy chicks to feed.

I think urban chickens are a logical, sensible, reasonable and responsible no-brainer. Thankfully the urban farm and locoavore movements that support urban chicken keeping are not going anywhere. What really needs to shift is the City of Toronto's backwater ideas about our omelet partners. The chickens are here to stay.