why I vote the way I do: thoughts of a Christian Democrat

It's a week until the election, and I am so looking forward to "election season" being over.  And I don't even watch television and am thus not subjected to political ad after political ad after political ad.  Ad nauseum, indeed.

I admire those of my Facebook friends who feel comfortable sharing their political views.  Perhaps most of their friends have similar political leanings; perhaps they simply feel completely confident in their views; perhaps they want to spark debate and conversation.

I have never felt comfortable posting my political views on Facebook, mostly, I think, because I want to avoid conflict.  Most of my close friends and most of my Missoula friends share my political leanings.  Most of my extended family and many of those in the community in which I grew up do not.  I suppose I just haven't wanted to go there.

But lately I've been wanting to articulate my beliefs, and to do so more than just to Greg and my immediate family and my circle of friends here in Missoula.

I am a Christian, and I am a Democrat.  I know there are plenty of us out there (and I am so very grateful to organizations such as Sojourners that give a very articulate voice to those of us who believe in God and also care about social and environmental justice), but I know that many liberals think that Christians, in general, tend to lean toward the (far) right, and that many Christians, in general, tend to think that Democrats are wrong/misguided/unChristian.

But there are those of us who identify as both Christian and liberal, and our voting decisions stem directly from our worldviews and our religious beliefs.  Yet I know that my conservative friends and relatives also make their decisions based on their beliefs.  And we both think we are right, and that the other side is wrong.

Whatever happened to respectful conversation, to a safe place in the middle where we can meet, discuss, learn from one another?  I hear negative comments from both sides.  I hear anger and desperation and despair from both sides.  I hear self-righteousness from both sides.  When did this happen?  When did we become so disconnected from each other?

So I thought that, perhaps, I would just share a little bit about why I vote the way I do.  I am not a theologian.  I am not some political expert.  I don't want to write 5,000 words on My Political Perspective, or anything like that, but simply open a window into the mind of one Christian liberal in the US of A.

Social Justice
This is the primary reason that I vote the way I do.  Time and again, the Bible commands us to care for the poor, the orphan, the widow, those less fortunate.  The command to care for the poor is mentioned more often than just about anything else.  And it seems to me that that the Democratic Party, with its focus on affordable health care for all, programs to support families in poverty, strengthening our public education system so that all children have access to a good education, and taxing our wealthiest citizens at a higher rate (particularly at a time when income inequality is at its highest--right now 25% of our nation's earnings and 40% of the wealth belongs to 1% of the population), does a better job of caring for those who are most disadvantaged in our country.  Several times in the past few weeks I've come across comments or essays that remind us that we need to think beyond only ourselves when voting--that we need to consider what is best for the greater population, not only about what is best for us.  (Joel Schreurs, a former classmate of mine who is now a pastor, wrote an excellent blog post about this very idea.)  FDR, in his second inaugural address, put it this way: "The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide for those who have too little."  And so I try to vote for the candidates who have more than their best interests in mind--and who seek in particular what is good for those citizens who have the least.

Women's Rights
This has become a huge issue in the current election, and one that is, naturally, of great importance to me.  I've long believed in gender equality.  I've long been frustrated with male and female stereotypes.  I believe that all people, no matter whether they are biologically male or biologically female, have feminine and masculine qualities, and that, when it comes down to it, people are simply people, and no one should be looked down upon because of her (or his) sex.  I am so grateful to see more and more women running for office.  I am so grateful to have a female pastor (and I have absolutely nothing against male pastors--it's just that I've had male pastors all my life and am glad to experience something new).  I look to Genesis, where God created people in God's image, male and female.  I think of how Jesus reached across the gender divide (so much larger in that time and place than it is in ours) to treat women as equals.  I am so grateful to have a husband who cooks and cleans and does the dishes right along with me, and sees me (and all other women) as equals.

All that to say that I also believe, then, that there is absolutely no reason that a woman should be paid less than a man for doing the same job.  There is absolutely no reason that men should have say over women's bodies.  There is no excuse for rape.  There is no excuse for domestic abuse.  And I will vote for legislators who support my right as a woman to make choices about my body.  And, unfortunately, the word "choice" has become synonymous, in this situation, to the word "abortion."  I do not like abortion.  NO ONE likes abortion.  But in a world where some men do not respect women, where some men think that they can do to women whatever they want, where comprehensive sex education is not offered everywhere, where some women and men have not been taught about the intricacies of their reproductive systems, where the cost of contraceptives can be cost-prohibitive, where some men have not learned how to be whole, where too many women haven't had the opportunity to see themselves as strong, beautiful, capable people--in this world, in light of these realities, I strongly believe that the decision of what happens to a woman's body should be left to that woman and not decided by the government.  And rather than simply voting for a candidate because he or she is against abortion, I am interested in voting for candidates who look to the underlying causes of abortion--the underlying causes of "unwanted" pregnancies--and working to rid our society of these underlying problems.  Abortion is the tragic result of much deeper and insidious issues.

And then this comes around, again, to social justice--to taking care of the poor.  Too often (not always, not in the cases of all conservative candidates/legislators) those who are "pro-life" seem to me to be more "pro-birth" than "pro-life"--wanting to abolish abortion, forcing even victims of rape to keep children conceived in violence, but then being uninterested in providing support for these women and their babies after birth.  These women (and, for that matter, all people) should have access to good healthcare for themselves and their children, to healthy and plentiful food, to homes, to the opportunity for a good education.  And I will vote for candidates who will work to put (and keep) these programs in place.

. . . A Moment of Gratitude
We live in an amazing country.  When I think of all we have here--so many rights and privileges, so much freedom, so much beauty--I am deeply grateful.  And even though I don't make a huge amount of money (though I am by no means poor), I am more than happy to give a percentage of it to the government for the roads I drive on, the parks I enjoy, the schools that educate our nation's children, and programs that keep the poorest in our society able to feed and clothe themselves and their families.  I would be even happier to have far fewer of my tax dollars go to our defense budget, and happier still to have my tax dollars go towards a universal healthcare system.

I wonder sometimes what's happened to America in, say, the 70 years since World War II.  The citizens of this country united then for a cause.  They gave up things like sugar and gas.  They planted Victory Gardens.  They were willing to live with less for the greater good.  Sadly enough, I cannot imagine such a thing today.  There's a kerfluffle over the New York City law that prohibits soda from being sold in cups larger than 32 ounces.  People may still drink more than 32 ounces of soda--but they have to stand up and walk across the room to the soda machine to do it.  The folks upset about this law probably wouldn't be too willing to give up sugar or gas or anything else.  Wouldn't it be something, though, if we were willing to give up some of our luxuries (and to see them for what they are--luxuries rather than necessities)?  What a difference it could make . . .

And that brings me to my third (and, for now, last) topic:

Environmental Issues
I wake up, sometimes, at night, and worry.  Did you know that our brain chemistry is different in the middle of the night (around 3am in particular) than it is during the day?  It predisposes us to worry--we don't see things as they are; reality is distorted.  Unfortunately, however, I usually wake up around 5, when my perception's mostly back to normal, and I worry about the world that I will grow old in.  I worry about the world my (as-yet-hypothetical) children will grow up in.  Fact: we are using up our natural resources at an alarming and unsustainable rate.  Fact:  we are poisoning our oceans and our air. Fact:  we are causing a mass extinction of species.  Fact:  we are not caring for this earth as we should if we want to continue to live on it.  Sadly, neither Republicans nor Democrats go far enough in terms of sustainability.  What I would love?  If we began a rapid shift from using coal, gas, and oil to more sustainable energy sources.  It's bad enough that the extraction of these non-renewable resources pollutes land, water, and air, and worse still that it has caused global climate change (right now: Frankenstorm, hitting the East Coast, and this after the hottest summer on record.  No, it's not just chance.).  What scares me is that we--not just Americans, but all of humankind (particularly the wealthiest and thus most resource-using) on this planet--cannot continue to live the way we do.  We need to change, and change quickly.

I believe that those of us who are Christians should have a special interest in caring for this planet. This was the overarching theme of my master's thesis:  that environmental activism should be a particularly Christian activity, not dismissed as an unChristian activity.  Through my work at the Montana Natural History Center, I've been learning more and more about the brilliant intricacies of the natural world, particularly the flora and fauna and landscape of western Montana.  There is such beauty in this world, such beauty in the balance and rhythms of nature.  From snowfleas (which are not insects), with their ability to stay alive in the cold because of an anti-freeze substance in their bodies, to larch trees, those fire-resistant deciduous conifers whose needles turn gold in the fall, drop off, and then leaf out in the brightest green imaginable in the spring--I see constant reflections of a Creator who loves and delights in this physical world.  And I believe with the core of who I am that Christians are called to work for, care for, and protect this creation, from snowfleas to larches, from coral to whales, from polar bears to phytoplankton, and the air and the earth and the water, too.

So.  Despite the fact that neither major political party goes far enough, the Democrats are definitely ahead on supporting alternative energy such as wind and solar and biofuels, which are viable, proven technologies, and are already changing our energy dynamic; agencies like the EPA; new fuel-efficiency standards for cars, etc.  Unfortunately, many conservatives are resistant to the truth that global climate change exists, and their legislation mirrors that resistance.  I want this planet we call home to be healthy--not only for me, but for my children and grandchildren and far, far beyond.  I want us as human beings to learn to live in balance with the rest of the natural world.  I want human beings to steward the earth as we are called to do in Genesis, to care for and respect the non-human creation that God loves as deeply as God loves us.  I don't want any more Frankenstorms or Katrinas or intense droughts or long, drawn-out fire seasons or melting glaciers or rising oceans, and I will vote for legislators who acknowledge the severity of the situation we as a global community are in, who are working to make changes that will mitigate--and, I hope, reverse--our seemingly-headlong rush to ecological devastation.

As I said, I wake up early in the morning and worry about these things.  I am tired of worrying about them--which is part of the reason that I'm finally writing this blog post.  Writing is a form of action, and it is time for me to act.

Wendell Berry, one of my favorite writers (who is also a Christian, and an activist, and, in all he does, is a constant inspiration to me), wrote a poem that I gratefully recall in those times when "despair for the world grows in me":

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

And in that freedom, in that hope--in that peace of wild things that comes from a loving Creator God--I live my life, I make little daily decisions to try to make the world a better place, I act (not enough, but I try, step by faltering step), and, every election, with hope and prayer, I vote.

mourning

The weather is suddenly beautiful--in truth, the weather has been lovely this fall, but the smoke from the hundreds of thousands of acres of forest fires in the West has made it difficult to breathe or even spend much time outdoors.  But the moon last night was bright and full and white, with no hint of the orange or red we see when the air is smoky.  Playful breezes yesterday afternoon sent bunches of oak leaves swirling down into our yard.  The sugar maple in the neighbor's front yard, two blocks away, is a blaze of crimson so bright it's almost neon.  We have opened all our windows today to let in the clear fall air.

It is a beautiful day, and my friend and fellow church council member Mark Hallgrimson is not here to enjoy it.

I first got to know Mark three years ago, when we began serving on church council together.  We drove to Billings with Paster Jean in the spring, two years ago, to attend the ELCA Montana Synod.  We ended up coming back to Missoula early--leaving on Saturday evening and driving 6 hours through the night--because Mark's daughter had had a seizure, and he was terribly worried about her.  The three of us drove through the cool June night, talking about our families, sharing how we'd met our spouses, praying for Mark's daughter and family.  Since that night, I've felt that Mark is a true friend.  We have carpooled to council meetings numerous times.  He drove carefully and responsibly, and I was always grateful to have him drive on cold, snowy evenings.  We talked about gardening, about our families, about what was going on in our lives.

This morning, in church, Jean told us that Mark had been killed in a car accident on Friday.  He and his wife and one of his daughters were going to North Dakota.  Two cars coming from the opposite direction were driving too fast.  One of the cars pulled out to pass the other car in a no-passing zone, and, going about 100mph, hit Mark's car.  And just. like. that., Mark is gone.  Kris and Anna are okay--injured, but alive.  But their lives, and that of Mark's other three children, are changed forever.

I've been grumpy the past couple of days.  I have a cold, work's been busy and a little stressful, the air's been smoky for way too long, I'm worried about the upcoming elections, I'm feeling helpless about climate change and all of the damage we are doing to our poor planet, and I've just been short-tempered. But all of that frustration seems so small when compared to what Kris and Anna and Karl and Sarah and Emily are going through.  Mark is the same age as my mom.  His kids are about the same age as me and my siblings.  And his life was ended abruptly by a reckless driver.  I am angry about that, but mostly just sad.

I keep seeing Mark in my mind--standing in church with his family; shaking my hand to share the peace; smiling at those around him; conscientiously taking the meeting minutes at council meetings, tapping in our decisions on his laptop; his kindness, his humility, his sense of humor, his love and compassion for those around him.  Sharing these memories is the best eulogy I can give him.  There are others who have known him much longer and much better, but his life touched mine for a little while, and I am so very, very grateful for that.

And now we mourn.  For remembrance, but for healing, too.  It was good to be in my little church community this morning, to hear the news there, where we could all mourn together, share our tears.  Where we can continue to do so.

Mark, you are in our hearts.

rearranging our space

It's been awhile.  And this will just be a short little post, since there's no possible way I can do justice to all that's happened in the past few months: a spring vacation in Hawai'i with Greg's parents, friends moving to town, a snowy June backpacking trip, going back to Iowa with my sister to say goodbye to my childhood home before my parents sold it, a lovely Peters family vacation in the Tetons and an equally lovely De Jong family vacation on Whidbey Island, good friends visiting, another good friend's wedding . . . nope, just too much going on.

So I'll post about a small thing:  rearranging the house.  We've lived here for more than three years now (hard to believe!), and have done a fair bit of rearranging already, to Greg's chagrin.  He doesn't mind that things get moved; he just doesn't like to do the moving.  Fortunately, as long as he helps me with the two-person stuff, I love doing everything else.  :)

For the past three years we've been sleeping in the back room--not really a bedroom, but a room just off the kitchen and with two full walls of windows.  It was a lovely place to sleep, but the disadvantage was that to get from the kitchen to the backyard, one had to go through our bedroom.  Not ideal.  So we decided to move ourselves upstairs to the Hobbit Room, and it's been marvelous.  A few pictures for your viewing pleasure:

What used to be our bedroom is now a cozy lounging space . . . 

. . . and office.

The former office is now the guest bedroom (and movie-watching space, too):

And here's our Hobbit Room bedroom:

Because the stairs are so steep, it is not possible to bring a box spring of any size (save a twin, I suppose) upstairs, so we are planning on building a queen-sized storage bed beneath the mattress.  

 

The new arrangement feels refreshing and seems to suit the house better, as though everything's clicking into place.  There's still some decluttering to do, and some built-in bookshelves to build, and five thousand seven hundred and thirty-two other projects, but it's nice to have this done.

Ahhh.

a food post for Philip

My brother-in-law Philip recently asked me to blog about some of the foods that Greg and I like to make.  We definitely have some favorites, and we are happy to share!  We try to eat healthily (usually), and this is particularly easy in the summer when the veggies are bursting forth from our garden.  But we manage even when we can't go out to the backyard to grab a fresh tomato or carrot--though I can't wait until we can do so again!

A few of our go-to meals:

*Soups & stews of all kinds.  Greg doesn't often use recipes, and loves to see what delectable dish he can make out of whatever it is we have in the kitchen.  Our soups often have tomatoes (we have to use those 40 quarts we canned last summer, after all!), potatoes (so hearty!), onions, and garlic, and beyond that we throw in whatever other supplements we may have lying around--broccoli, mushrooms, kale, spinach, sweet potatoes, beets, etc.  Occasionally we'll add some venison or bison or chorizo (the local grocery store has some amazing in-house chorizo, and Italian sausage, too--yum!).

*Another good soup base is lentils.  A bunch of lentils with onions, garlic, potatoes, tomatoes, and a splash of red wine makes a darned good soup.  And you can always add a little bacon or sausage and make it even better.  Mmm.  Bacon.

*Then there's always the chili option--red beans and black beans and pinto beans, tomatoes, corn, and peppers, onions, garlic, etc.  If we want a little extra flavor, we use Better Than Boullion paste rather than boullion cubes--more real flavor and less salt (though there's still quite a bit of sodium in there).  And of course you can make your own stock with leftover vegetable parts--onion ends, leek ends, carrot ends, etc.--just toss them in a bag in the freezer until there's enough to make a good stock, and then boil it all up, skim off the foam, let simmer for half an hour or so, and strain out the veggie bits, and you've got some nice stock to use for your next soup-making endeavor!

*Frittatas and other eggy dishes.  All our chickens are laying again, so we have quite a lot more eggs than we had this winter!  Greg made an amazing frittata tonight, with potatoes, mushrooms, broccoli, peppers, onions, garlic, and feta cheese.  YUM.  We also like making potato-y-eggy breakfasts--dicing potatoes, frying them up with onions and garlic and spinach and kale and whatever else we may have on hand, and then adding eggs (and usually some cheese) for a nice scramble, with fresh tomatoes and avocado on top.  YUM again.

*Stir-fries.  Another delightfully simply and endlessly creative dish, just throwing in whatever veggies you have available:  broccoli, peppers, onions, potatoes, mushrooms, along with a little soy sauce, and serving it over rice or a rice-quinoa mix.  We always combine quinoa with rice in the rice cooker--it's healthy to have some variety, and boy oh boy does it taste good.   You can go for a curry flavor and add spices like coriander, turmeric, cumin, ginger, mustard, garam masala, etc.; you can also marinate thin strips of meat in a mixture of minced garlic (2-4 cloves), sliced ginger root (1 inch), soy sauce (1 1/2 Tbl), salt (1/4 tsp), pepper (1/4 tsp), sugar (1 tsp), and cooking sherry (1 Tbl), and, after marinating it for at least an hour or so, add cornstarch (1 Tbl), oil (1 Tbl) and a dash of water and then cook it up.  Stir fry the veggies first, then remove them; fry up the meat in a little oil, and then add the veggies back in, and, once they're heated through, serve up your meal!

*One of my favorite dishes is Chicken with Peanut Sauce, from the Extending the Table cookbook.  It's simple and delicious, and you can't beat the taste of peanuts--yum.  Here's the recipe:
Heat 2 Tbl oil in large saucepan.  Fry 1-2 pounds of cut up chicken in the oil until cooked through, then remove and set aside.  Next, fry 1 large onion, sliced, and 1-5 cloves of garlic.  Add 1 cup of tomatoes (fresh or canned, and I usually add more like 2 or 3 cups), 1/4 cup of tomato paste (which I usually omit, because I once had a traumatic experience with tomato paste, though not with this recipe), and a 1/2 cup peanut butter (I don't recommend Jiffy or whatever--way too sugary--go for the organic/natural stuff, or, better yet, grind 1/2 a cup of peanuts in the blender/food processor).  Add 1 cup of water gradually and stir to make a smooth sauce, and then add 1-2 bay leaves and 1 tsp salt.  Cook a few minutes, stirring occasionally.  Return chicken to sauce, stirring to coat the pieces well.  Cover and cook over medium heat for about 15 minutes, adding water if it's too thick.  Serve over rice (or a rice and quinoa blend). 

*Burritos.  Our absolute favorite (and I have Greg to thank for introducing me to this!!) is black bean and sweet potato burritos--possibly one of the most delicious foods ever.  Heat the black beans by themselves, or cook them up with onions and garlic, and peel, cube and boil the sweet potatoes until soft, and then put them into hard or soft shells, along with kale or spinach, tomatoes, avocado, salsa, sour cream, cheese . . .

*Most of our comfort foods revolve around cheese.  Mmm, cheese.  We make quesadillas now and again--it's an easy meal, and easy to add lots of veggies to:  spinach, kale, mushrooms, peppers, onions, tomatoes, black beans.  Or we'll make a big tray of nachos, with tortilla chips, black beans, refried beans, onions, peppers, broccoli, tomatoes, avocados and the rest, and shredded cheese on top, baked in the oven at low temps for 15ish minutes.  If we just don't feel like making a more involved meal, we'll make a box (or two) of Annie's mac & cheese, and mix in some veggies--broccoli or tomato slices or avocado or mushrooms--which comes close to turning it into a gourmet meal.

Hmm, I think I may be getting a bit hungry . . . it might be time for a tiny, evening-snack-sized portion of frittata.

What are YOUR favorite homemade meals?

soap and other homemade things

I've always enjoyed being creative, but lately that creativity has come out in the form of making some of my own goods from scratch.  Ever since college I've baked cakes from scratch, made homemade bread, knitted my own scarves, etc., but in the past few years I've expanded that to making my own apricot jam, canning tomatoes and applesauce, and putting up as much of our garden produce as we can.  This year, Greg and I have been able to add a few more fun things to that list:

Making our own beer (Sparrow Hawk Porter, due to be ready in another couple of weeks--and three cheers for FIVE GALLONS of beer!):

Made the same evening, five gallons of pear mead (which will take 6+ months before we can drink it):

Homemade pita bread (from the delicious recipe in the Extending the Table cookbook):

  . . . it really does make a delicious meal, particularly when paired with garlic hummus and Tillamook extra sharp vintage cheddar cheese:

Yes, there have certainly been some delectable creations lately.  But not all of the recipes we've been following have been for edible items.

Since certain of my graduate classes in Environmental Studies, I've been learning more and more about the chemicals and toxins that infuse many of our everyday products, from shampoo to dish detergent to paint to cleaning products to lotions and other bath & body products.  And really, there is absolutely no need for most of them.  We don't need to spend tons of money on things like Windex and Pledge and 409 with their long lists of unpronounceable chemicals.  You can make pretty much every kind of cleaning product you need from various combinations of washing soda, baking soda, vinegar, borax, essential oils (if desired), and castile soap, and the great thing is that you know exactly what is in those products you're spraying so casually on your kitchen counter and bathroom sink.

On the beer/mead making day, Beth and I spent a few minutes making our own all-purpose cleaner.  The recipe:  1/2 tsp. washing soda, 2 tsp. borax, 1/2 tsp. liquid soap, a few drops of lavender essential oil, and 2 cups of hot water, mixed together in a $2 plastic spray bottle from Ace Hardware.  And--voila!  DIY cleaner!  (For other recipes, check out the Women's Voices for the Earth website.  And to see exactly what's in your bath and body products, check out the Skin Deep Cosmetics Database, where you can type in the brand name and product type and get not only a list of ingredients, but a look into the harmful side effects of those ingredients.  It's more than a little scary, but better to know than not to know.  This is also a great place to find healthy, toxin-free products.)

Interesting though all this may be, none of this (yet) is my true purpose in blogging today.  My goal, when I sat down at my computer this evening, was to share my very first foray into making my own soap.  This past Saturday, I got together with amazing MNHC volunteer and friend Valerie, my always-up-for-an-adventure mother-in-law, and my good friend Ann to make soap.  Valerie has made her own soap for a few years now, which I learned when she donated two generous baskets of her homemade lavender soap for the MNHC auction this past fall.

When we arrived on Saturday, Valerie sat us down to go over the soap-making basics.  She has found that it's much easier to set everything up first, as the soap-making process actually moves quite quickly once you begin.  Here we are, learning about the process:

And here's all of our equipment for making coconut soap, ready to go:

*one large and one small set of glass (preferable) or stainless steel bowls,
*a tall stainless steel pot (NOT aluminum),
*a two-cup glass measuring cup,
*a kitchen scale that calibrates to zero,
*one or two insta-read food thermometers,
*a stick blender,
*coconut oil (16 oz - please note that all measurements except essential oils are by WEIGHT),
*olive oil (14 oz)--the cheapest, lightest stuff you can find--go for the "extra light" instead of the "extra virgin,"
*Crisco (12 oz),
*cold distilled water (16 oz),
*lye (6 oz),
*soap molds (you can use milk cartons, Pringles cans, plastic containers, or small cardboard boxes lined with freezer paper--shiny side up),
*essential oils (2 oz),
*additives (1/4-1/2 cup of oatmeal, lavender buds, juniper berries, herbs, for extra scent, exfoliating properties, etc.),
*and a couple of old towels or an old blanket.

Here's Valerie preparing the mold by lining a small cardboard box (I believe these are the boxes that wet cat or dog food comes in) with freezer paper, shiny side up.

Next, we measured out the oils--by WEIGHT.  For this particular recipe we used 16 oz of coconut oil (which, by the way, is a solid, and can be found in the cooking aisle at most grocery stores--not the Orange Street Food Farm, though, sadly!) and 12 oz of Crisco, which we measured one at a time and then put into the stainless steel pot.  The olive oil (14 oz) was measured into the 2-cup measure and set aside to be added later.

Next, we went to get the lye, which is of course very caustic stuff.  Valerie keeps it in her garage, so we trekked out to collect it, and then stayed outside to add it the cold distilled water.  We measured (again, by WEIGHT) 16 oz of distilled water into our large glass bowls, and then added 6 oz (yup, by weight!) of the lye crystals.  Lye (sodium hydroxide, or NaOH) is a highly reactive substance, and, when combined with water, heats up rapidly.  We performed this part of the operation outside, since the lye and water reaction creates some nasty fumes that you don't want to breathe.  You want to be very careful with this stuff.  We wore old clothes, long sleeved shirts, and those of us who don't wear glasses wore safety goggles.  Rubber gloves aren't a bad idea, either; as Valerie says, it's better to be overly cautious.  We poured the lye crystals slowly into the water and then stirred with a plastic spoon until all of the lye was dissolved.  Then we left it outside to cool down while we went back inside to start heating up the oils.

When heating up the solid oils (in this case, the Crisco and coconut oil), it's best to warm them up very slowly, on low heat.  They only have to get to 90-110 degrees, which really doesn't take much.  Once the solids are mostly melted and there are some small chunks left, turn off the heat--those chunks will continue to melt.  At this point, you can add the olive oil and stir the mixture to make sure everything dissolves. 

At this point, you want to measure the temperature of both the oils and the lye solution (it's nice to have one thermometer for each, but, of course, not absolutely necessary).  The goal is to have them both in the 90-110 degree range.  Some recipes call for the temperatures to be within 1-3 degrees of each other, but Valerie has found, with this recipe at least, that as long as they're both between 90 and 110 degrees, the soap turns out.  Of course, the closer you can get the two temperatures to each other, the better!  When I took the temperatures, my lye solution was at 92 and the oils were at 95, which was perfect.  So we brought the bowl of lye solution inside, and, while I started mixing the oils with the stick blender, Valerie slowly and carefully poured the lye solution into the oil mixture. 

This is the cool part.  As you blend--and it's good to blend for 10-20 seconds, then stir to check the consistency, then blend again, etc.--the mixture thickens, and this is where that crazy caustic lye undergoes another chemical reaction, this time with the oils, and saponifies.  That is, it ceases to become lye and the whole mixture becomes soap.  This point, when the lye water and fats have combined into a mixture that will no longer separate, is called trace, and this is what you're waiting for.  Signs of trace include a thick consistency similar to cake batter, and, when you drizzle some of the soap on the surface of the mixture, it leaves behind a "trail" that takes awhile to sink back into the mixture.  Here's Valerie testing my mixture to see if it's thick enough. 

For some reason, my mixture took a little while to thicken properly (Becky's reached trace really quickly, but it took her a long time beforehand to get the temperatures of the lye solution and the oil mixture in the right range).  I just kept alternating the blending and stirring until, when we dropped a few drops of the mixture onto the surface, they stayed there for just a little bit before sinking back in.  At this point, the "light trace," you add any additives--oatmeal, herbs, etc. (1/4-1/2 cup for this recipe).  I added about half a cup of crushed juniper berries, which I ordered from Botanie Soap, a company owned by my friends Tim & Lindsay Iudicello.  (If you don't want to make your own soap, buying from Botanie is the next best thing--in fact, I've been using their soap exclusively since moving to Missoula.  It's wonderful, organic/natural, beautifully fragrant stuff.)

After stirring in the crushed juniper berries (which I ground up with a mortar and pestle), I blended the mixture for just a little longer, until it went from "light trace" to "trace."  At this point I added the essential oils (2 fluid oz, NOT by weight this time).  For my soap, I added 1 oz of spruce essential oil and 1 oz of cedarwood essential oil, which I'd also bought from Botanie.  (Becky added 1 oz of peppermint, 1/3 oz of spearmint, and 2/3 oz of cedarwood, along with dried mint leaves.)  Once again, we blended for just a bit to make sure the essential oils were well combined.  By this time, the mixture was a thick, custardy consistency, and it was time to pour it into the molds--exactly the way you'd pour cake batter into a pan, including scraping every little bit out with the spatula (but not including licking the spatula).

Ta-da!

Here's a little video (!) so you can hear us being silly, as well as see more clearly the final consistency of the soap mixture--when you know it's ready to be poured into the mold.

After that, all we had to do was wrap the mold in our old towels/blanket--this is to keep the soap from cooling off too quickly.  In the picture below, you can see my pink towel-wrapped soap on the counter in the background, while Becky smooths her soap with a spatula.

You can also use the spatula to create fun textures on the surface--once it cooled just a little, I made little waves on the top of mine, just for fun.  Once we'd poured the soap into the molds, textured or de-textured our soap as desired, and wrapped it in towels, we were set.  The whole process, including getting everything ready beforehand, took less than an hour and a half--not bad at all!   After that, it was time to eat a yummy lunch of mushroom & meat dumpling soup (courtesy of Valerie), spinach salad with walnuts, blueberries, feta, and onions (courtesy of Ann), and Valentine's Day/Valerie's birthday sugar cookies (courtesy of Becky).  YUM.

Once poured into the mold, the soap needs to cool/set for 24 hours.  I put mine in the pantry, out of reach of the cats, and on Sunday afternoon brought it out to cut it (you can see that the towel stuck in a few places, but oh, well).

The soap can be cut anywhere from 24-48 hours after pouring it into the mold.  I think I waited exactly 24 hours.  :)  I cut mine on a glass cutting board, since the scents can seep into a wooden cutting board and be difficult to remove.  If you use a wooden cutting board, just put a brown paper bag on top of the board to protect it.  You can use a big kitchen knife to cut the soap, and either wing it or measure out the bars carefully.  

I winged (wung?) it . . . and I think it turned out pretty well!  

Now the hard part:  waiting four weeks for the soap to cure!  To cure it, make sure there's plenty of space between the bars, put it in a place where it won't be attacked by cats, dogs, small children, etc., and make sure to turn it every week so that all six sides are exposed to the air.  And then . . . enjoy!

The lovely thing about homemade and natural soaps (as opposed to brands like Ivory or Irish Spring or what-have-you), is that in these soaps, the glycerin is not removed.  Glycerin is created during the saponification process, and is a natural skin moisturizer.  While removing it makes soaps like Ivory cheaper for the consumer (commercial manufacturers remove the glycerin because it happens to be a valuable commodity that can be sold to the cosmetic and other industries), it also makes such soaps harder on the skin, especially in dry climates.  Sure, the price is right.  But many people find that their skin dries out and gets irritated by glycerin-free soaps . . . and it's so remarkably easy to make your own glycerin-rich, moisturizing, fresh-smelling, natural soap.

And I can't wait to use mine. 

waiting for the bread to rise

The other night, I was feeling peckish, so I looked in the fridge for snack possibilities.  There was a container of hummus just waiting to be eaten, but alas, no bread to go with it.  So I pulled out my Extending the Table cookbook, flipped to the pita bread recipe, and went to town.  A little over an hour later, Greg and I were enjoying our hummus with soft, seasoned pita bread hot out of the oven.  MMM.  Inspired by such success, I'm doing the same thing again this evening.  While I wait for the bread to rise, I thought I'd put up a few pictures of our recent snowmageddon event and the winter activities we've (finally) been able to enjoy.

 Our first cross-country ski of the season, up at the beautiful Seeley Lake trails on a bluebird day.  Yay!

Over MLK day weekend, we headed down to Hamilton to enjoy good food, good beer, good company, and a little more skiing.  

And then came the Big Snow, falling for 48 hours straight, piling up softly on everything--trees, roofs, chicken coop, cars, streets.  One night Greg and I skied from our front door over to the University golf course:  spectacular!  I wish I could ski from my house every day . . .

Good thing I have tall boots (and even they weren't always quite high enough to get through the bigger drifts)!

View from my window at work.  I saw myriad people skiing along the river trail and down Hickory Street during the two days it snowed.  Two of my co-workers were unable to get to work for a couple of days, making me even more grateful that I live close enough to walk to work.

Last weekend we got together with our friends Evan and Catherine and went up to Lolo Pass to ski.  We thought we might be able to go up Pattee Canyon (just a five minutes' drive away), but alas, it was RAINING.  I ask you:  what's the use of getting two feet of snow if it's just going to get rained on?  Meh.  So instead, we drove an hour or so and had a wonderful ski at Lolo Pass.

I decided to try skiing in a skirt, and deemed it a definite success. Skirt skiing is empowering.

 . . . and there goes the timer for the bread.  Mmm!

2011: Year in Review

At the start of a new year, I do like looking over the past year and contemplating what it's brought.  It was a good year, all told, with some fun travels, explorations of beautiful landscapes, new garden projects and good times with family and friends.

At the very beginning of 2011, we spent a week in Baja with Greg's parents.  I'd never been to Mexico before, and it was lovely, and I would love to go back and explore even more of it someday.  (For more pics, check out my Facebook album.)

When we got back, we (belatedly) celebrated Greg's 36th and Britta's 25th birthdays, with cake, friends, and beer . . . and blowing out the birthday candles, of course!

In February, we visited Andrea and Philip in Bellingham over President's Day weekend, and had a lovely day cross-country skiing near Mt. Baker and another lovely day taking the ferry to Lummi Island and hiking.  I love that my sister lives only a day's drive away (and in a pretty spectacular place--I have more pics on Facebook)!

Last winter was very snowy, which was fantastic.  We're still waiting for the snow to show up this year.  But it was also very grey and chilly longer than usual, stretching far into what is usually spring.  Even so, we were able to start work on a few yard projects in March.  Our neighbor, Emily, came over to prune our oak and maple trees;

we spent a weekend in Hamilton preparing for and enjoying Bill & Becky's spring equinox party;

we got our garden beds ready for planting;

our kitties were cute;

and we added the final piles of soil, mulch, and cedar bark to our front landscaping project.

In April, the sunshine and some warmth finally arrived, and so did the buttercups on Mount Jumbo . . .

. . . and our Very Own Chickies!  Here they are, only four days old.  Amazing to think that it's less than a year later and we've been enjoying eating our own eggs for several months now!

We were thrilled when our garlic started coming up--truly, garlic is not only satisfying because of its deliciousness, but because it is one of the first green and growing things in the spring.  It is little verdant spears of hope bursting through the warming soil.

Getting four baby chicks also inspired us to really get cracking on the henhouse and chicken coop, which Greg had begun to work on in fall 2010, but had to stop when the weather got chilly and snowy.  

At the end of April, I got to participate in a program through the Montana Natural History Center, one of the those we offer periodically for our Explorer's Club members.  This one involved spending a morning with Denver Holt from the Owl Research Institute, while he and some of his staff showed us how they mist net, catch, and study long-eared owls (which Denver has been doing for more than 25 years). 

What a magical experience, to see this beautiful raptor up close!

May brought true spring--sunshine, warm days, opening the windows, tulips, melting snow--it was wonderful.  We spent lots of time outside, working on the garden:

We watched the chickies grow rapidly into adolescents.

Greg taught an intensive weekend Advanced Master Naturalist course on plant identification, which Bill and Becky and I all participated in.  

We traveled to several locations in and near Missoula to study various ecosystems and plant life, and got REALLY good at finding the glossary at the end of our dichotomous key books!  

It was a marvelous weekend with lovely people.  I love natural history geeks (and feel very blessed to be married to one!).  

But the excitement of May didn't end there.  We also had visits from some very good friends: my friend Rachel, who works in Uganda for the Uganda Studies Program, but who very fortuitously has a sister who lives in Missoula, and Greg's friend Bill, who was taking a break between jobs to do some traveling and visiting friends.  We spent a beautiful day hiking around Mount Jumbo together, on hillsides awash in wildflowers.  Yay for good people!

 

My good friend and former co-worker Jessie also visited, spending Memorial Day weekend in Missoula.  The arrowleaf balsamroot was still going crazy on Mount Jumbo at the end of May!

June was an eventful month.  We continued our wildflower walks around Missoula;

finished the henhouse and chicken coop and moved the chickens to their new home;

took a hike to see the rushing and raging Morrell Falls in the Seeley-Swan Valley;

participated in the Advanced Master Naturalist bird weekend;

enjoyed a visit from my parents, taking them on a hike up Waterworks Hill to see the wildflowers . . . and, oh yes, the birds, too!;

 

spent a gorgeous weekend in the Sawtooths with Jessie and her boyfriend Shawn and my co-worker Alyssa;   

and tasted the first fruits of our garden (truly the first fruits--these are the first cherries from our cherry tree, and they were DELICIOUS).  

There is always so much happening in the summer.  Last summer was no exception.  In July, we started out fairly mellowly, staying home over the 4th of July holiday for a rejuvenating few days of reading, writing, and basking in the sunshine--though we also managed to install a new gate and fencing to the east side of our house--but from there, things got busier. 

Andrea and Philip came to visit for a few days, and when they left, I went with them--not back to Washington, but east to Sioux Center, then south to Branson, MO, for our biannual VanderHart family reunion. 

After a few days there, my dad drove me east to Illinois, so that I could spend a few (very hot and humid) days with Tricia and Benjamin and Miriam and Peregrine. 

 

I got to see the lovely addition to their house,

as well as the progress John and Sue are making on their strawbale/cob/cordwood home,

and then it was back to Iowa for a day,

and then the long drive back west through South Dakota, Wyoming, and most of Montana (with a stop at the historical grounds near Billings). 

It was a wonderful road trip, and I loved being able to spend two full weeks with my sister (neither of us can remember the last time we got to enjoy that luxury), but I definitely missed my Gregory, who was teaching through the end of July and unable to join us.  He spent his time teaching and grading, working in the garden, writing, and getting in some long summer hikes.  Next time, though, we're doing this together!     

In August, we got some family time with the Peters clan, driving over to Spokane to spend a couple of days with Bill & Becky, Wendy & Morgan and Ada and Andrew, and then we joined Wendy and Morgan for a couple of days in the cabin they'd rented on Lake Pend Orielle.

We had a great time exploring northern Idaho with them! 

Then it was back to Missoula to enjoy the high garden season and the delight of having most of our food come from our own backyard. 

 

This included the discovery of what may be the most delicious tomato EVER:  the chocolate-striped tomato from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds.  Order some of these seeds.  Eat one of these tomatoes.  It's a tomato as you've never experienced it.

Tricia and Benjamin and Miriam and Perergrine stopped by for a day on their way to Washington,

and then, at the end of August, we traveled west to the Oregon coast to spend a weekend with Greg's college friends--Bill, Tom and Molly, Amanda and Brian and baby Walter, and Evan and Ashley.

 We rented a house built high on a rocky outcrop over the ocean,

and had a spectacular time making delectable food, lounging on the sand,

and playing badminton on the beach (beach badminton may be the best. sport. ever).    

As I recall all our activities of last summer, I am remembering what a fantastically full summer it was.  Lots of time with friends and family, explorations of new places, amazing gardeny goodness--yes, summer 2011 was a good one.

In September,  I celebrated my 32nd birthday (!!!) with a lovely weekend down in Hamilton with a hike up Blodgett Canyon, good friends,

 and of course, a few hilarious rounds of telephone pictionary.

Greg started teaching again, and I got busy at work as MNHC's school programs started up and we began preparing for the annual auction in earnest.  We got our first eggs from our chickens (!),

and celebrated Beth and Britta's return to Missoula from Alaska with lots and lots of tomato canning weekends. 

We eased out of summer into the busier fall routine, and helped ourselves stay sane by taking walks in the woods . . .

. . . and following our kitties' example of taking occasional naps in the sunshine.

October is always a crazy month for me, work-wise, as I'm busy not only with finding volunteers to help with all of our 4th-grade field trips, but I also am working overtime to do last-minute preparations for our auction.  I love the busyness and the challenge of getting so much done in just a few weeks, but I'm always grateful to be finished with it all.  Despite the busyness, however, Greg and I took the time to enjoy a weekend up at Holland Lake for our 2nd anniversary at the beginning of October. 

This included a visit to our wedding site, of course!

We also found time to take a good many fall hikes, in the hills around Missoula,

 our annual larch pilgrimage to Glen Lakes,

and on a slightly snowy excursion up Sweeney Ridge.

 We continued canning tomatoes, but also added a few rounds of applesauce and apple butter, 

harvested our sweet potatoes (!),

 

readied our garden for the winter, which of course included planting our garlic,

and cuddled with our kitties. 

Greg also got to visit Wendy & Morgan for a long weekend, flying to Boulder to help with some fence building and playing with his niece and nephew.

November brought some calmness, a welcome break after the intensity of the previous two months.  I had time to put together a homemade goodies basket for our church's silent auction,

learn to make Christmas trees out of junk mail/magazines,

and make sourdough bread.

We also visited Andrea and Philip over Veteran's Day weekend, but, since it was cold, windy and rainy the entire time we were there, we mostly stayed indoors, made yummy food, and, um, watched Glee.  Over Thanksgiving, we continued our tradition of spending several days in Hamilton, eating WAY too much food, hiking in the woods,

enjoying each other's company, and, of course, cutting down our Charlie Brown Christmas trees. 

Wendy and Morgan and the kids were able to join us, as were Beth and Britta, and we had a marvelous five days with friends and family.  There was even a bit of snow--more, actually, than we have now.

In November, I also got to write my first article for the Montana Naturalist magazine, of which I am now the official editor (and am very much looking forward to my first issue coming out in April!).  I wrote an article on pikas, which may very well be the cutest creatures ever.

By December, we were ready for more snow, which just didn't come.  We had warmish, dry days, and more sunshine than is usual for winter in Missoula.  I can't complain about the sun, but if it had been sparkling off of a foot of snow (or, hey, even three inches!), it would have been even better.  Greg finished up his semester and is still enjoying his well-deserved break--reading, editing his story, cooking yummy food, etc.  We had the time to paint the bathroom, I started running three times a week with my friend Beth, and Greg continued the running and hiking he's been doing for the past several months.  We spent a (warm, sunny, dry) week in Iowa with my family,

 

having lots of fun playing games,

taking walks in the sunshine,

 

 and seeing friends.  

Oh, right, and being silly.  Just a bit.

 

We returned to Missoula in time for the New Year, which we spent with Bill and Becky and Jan, as well as Beth and Britta and their parents.   Looking back, it's been quite a year!  And now it's 2012, and we are looking forward to all this year will bring.   Happy 2012, friends!

p.s.  In case you were wondering, the kitties are still cute.