Musing 23
Time to talk about my local health food shop again.
The employee who can seem a little light in the head at times, while he admits to being a bit heavy of heart once in a while, accepted my explanation why I was ready to swipe my card for a second time while the payment had already gone through; I was trying out the new method of holding the card against the machine instead of inserting it in to the slit. My son recommends this as a faster and more efficient method (only requiring a confirmation pin number above a certain amount to be paid- still haven’t figured out which amount that might be, for I am forever still having to confirm with a number, big spender on lentils and cucumbers that I am).
The presumed Former-Farmer assistant, as I call him, suggested I was too impatient, which got me ruffled on top of the fumbling with my card. It seemed to me that I was quite patient actuallly, willing to try the card trick again. Flustered, I offered an alternative, that I get a bit insecure around such transactions. I meant with regards to whether the payment had gone through, but he instantly apologised with, “I tend to have that effect on people.”
He physically took a step back behind the counter and held up his hands as if to push me back into my comfort zone and set himself at a safer distance. I found this somewhat confusing, although I do love keeping my personal space to myself. I smiled gratefully but had to reassure him that it wasn’t him. “It’s me. I’m a very insecure person.” Although shy would have been a better word, I suppose minus the exaggeration, this could be said to be true in the company of others. Especially in shops. For if I pause for too long to think about it, shopping is the silliest activity I can think of.
Manual Shopping
If I look too closely I won’t ever go shopping again. How frumpy: pushing a trolly; how greedy: scanning the shelves with roving, coveting eyes; like some kind of show-game: piling in stuff one minute, taking it back out the next, putting it down onto the counter, then picking it up again, putting it into a bag, all within 15 minutes, if possible (parking any longer would force budget cuts affecting our Saturday Night chocolate mousse).
Then think of all those hands. Tins don’t care, the live-cultures in yoghurt are safely packed away, but the fresh greens and fruits are hustled and bustled quite some by the whole shopping experience, and it can’t leave them untouched. Seeing as they have lead a (bio-)dynamic life so far, the impact of life after the farm must still have its effects on these sensitive life-forms.
Ed the green-grocer department man is not the first to touch the goods, but let’s say that for the shop adventure of the veggies it starts there; then some other shopper may have fondled the bananas before I pick them up and put them onto the scales; then I put them into the trolley; and once more, there come my hands to place them on the counter top. Now the Former-Farmer puts his firm grip around them; the apples in their bag fare maybe a little better. The lettuce gets swung to and fro in its plastic bag; then me again packing them into my shopping bag, and once we get home, me again unpacking them; the aubergine has been thoroughly massaged by the time it gets to rest in the fridge. Finally, my hands, again, showering them under the tap, and peeling off their skins… no, enough of the torture! let’s keep them on and swiftly end their man(o)handling on the chopping board and like lobsters off with them into the pan.
Lost My Appetite For Slaughter
See, that’s what happens if I think too much. It makes me never want to cook another vegetable stew again. I remember discussing around the time I was (bravely) turning vegetarian (at around 15; “Do you want to become further estranged from your father?!” my mother warned;) with my five year yonger sister what would be the perfect (holy) diet (this was well before ecological concerns lived amongst common suburban people like ourselves). That is how we spent bored Sunday afternoons. Or rather, that is how I pestered my genius sister with my loud and crazy presence, trying to engage her in something that might entertain me, lounging on her bed while she was studying world history or reading Le Grand Meulnes at her large desk.
↓ Nicolai Abraham Abildgaard (1790)
How did honey and milk fit into this diet, then, but nuts not? Well: nuts were bursting at the shells with life! They contained mighty trees! To eat a walnut was to abort a thousand other nuts; you were curbing the potential and right to life of the seed. But with mother cow and sister hive you could cut a deal (this perfect diet was of course reserved for priestesses in huts in virginal Hungarian forests, whose prayers created trade winds of peace).
It’s The Demeter Diet!
One would share the milk with the calf (not simultaneously), it seemed perfectly harmonious to ask Audhumbla for a cup of her alchemical concotion as she prolongued her lactation period without losing her own health for it. The harvest of honey would only be done in the height of summer after profound meditations had been held by the high priestesses for three days and three nights by the light of the silvery moon. It turns out, now I know about bio-dynamic farming, that it is totally possible to share in nature’s bounty if you know how to farm with your senses attuned to the inter-connectivity of the land, the plant, the beast.
I never adopted my own High Priestess of the Hungarian Forest diet, but I do believe in tuning into nature and making sure you don’t tune her out. I do choose my food for its life-force and integral dynamic patterning. I do want to feel the time it has taken a plant to unfold and mature. It makes me jittery to eat food that has been rushed through the process and chased on its heels to become fat and glossy.
If I have not shown a grand enthusiasm for Permaculture it is because I am a little too old to become renewedly enthused. I was at the helm of bio-dynamic diets, educating people on the agricultural system that would keep the capital O in Organic. I don’t exactly know where permaculture comes from (who lent it its name?) but the book collection of #mountainjewel showed me there are many official books on the subject that would probably detail all this to me. But as I said, I’m a little tired now. People called me crazy for twenty years and now it’s a trend you can even steem with.I must admit when I see #sagebrush and #idyllwild setting up their own Good-Life initiative I do sometimes feel like I wish it could be me pottering about day in day out, with the land for your canvas (although I am not prepared to live off stinging nettle powder and dandelions endlessly till the first proper kitchen garden harvests abound!)
Epilogue
As I remember to put my card back in my purse and my purse back in my handbag, and my handbag back over my shoulder, and am about to lift my week’s gleaning away, the Former-Farmer man inquires if there is anything more he can do for me, regards my insecurities: “we aim to help our customers in any way we can,” he has taken a step forward to lean across the counter and put his face beneath mine and look up with his hands held up as if to lift great offerings to me.
He’s managed to do it again. My thoughts rush to the fore in a flurry, how to get myself out of this fine mess, again? I decide to play the lost-cause card: “Don’t worry, I am used to being insecure. I’ve been it all my life, I expect I’ll be getting over it once I go blinder and more deaf.”
The lectures I could give on the esoteric implications of my sensory deprivation I leave to one side entirely, trusting they are of no interest whatsoever to the shop assistant.
The Former-Farmer pushes himself up and dusts his hands off. “Jolly good, jolly good!” he applauds with one loud clap.
Unless credited otherwise, all photos are my own.
Cows in field, crow on post - Sunday last
Chives in flower - June 2017
Capuciner beans - 2016
This year's lambs
This year's tulips
Fuzzy Wuzzy Bee on mint - summer 2017
My altar bouquet - September 2017 - very out of season, but slowly slipping things in here I won't be able to post later on.
Homesteading seems to be pretty popular around this site, and makes me wonder if I'm missing out! Personally, I hate shopping, and I always seem to pick the wrong fruits and vegetables, no matter how often someone tries to show me how to pick the perfect avocado. I'm even worse when it comes to taking care of plants. It's like as soon as they're put in my presence, they immediately commit suicide. I would be a terrible homesteader.
Every homestead also needs its guardian in the rockingchair on the porch. Homesteads do come with bookcases, I've discovered. The trick of course is to go to the land of milk and honey (Hungarian Forests?) where the plums and peaches and avocados fall into your lap while you lie dozing. (Wear helmet.)
I like this post! I have a lot of food-related thoughts. My husband turned the back yard into a messy but very generous orchard. We have several large fruit trees, too, including banana trees. I could not believe how long it took for those bananas to ripen! It almost (almost) made me sad to eat them, after it had taken the plant four moon cycles to produce a few kilos, I could eat them all in less than half a cycle. It made me respect food a lot more. Still, I'm on a stage where I struggle with eating, I feel like I eat more than enough, but I'm hardly ever full or satisfied. What is your stand on sugar? I suppose you don't consume it, but I'd love to hear your reasons. Sugar and I have tons of discussions daily, I lose most of them...
From an Anthroposophical point of view sugar is not the bad guy as such. Sweetening things artificially, using honey in pastry (destroys enzymes/wastes bees' effort) or using that devilish trickster stevia or agave is more problematic. Refined sugar is not so great, of course (dead product). Sugar is used specifically in certain Anthroposophic medicines as a director to the Ego-organisation; the sugar is quickly absorbed in the blood, where the Ego (I-body) lives and as such it carries the other homeopathic information from the plant/animal/mineral components straight to the weakest sheath. Many nervous conditions are caused by a poor I-astral integration, due to an overworked and unfit I.
It's not just sugar that weakens. Excess use of "sweetness" (easily done with sugar) spoils the Ego-body, taking over with energy shots and peak performance hits. The true underlying issue with diabetes eg. is the lack of a strong I-presence. We can try to challenge this I body to become fitter with"rougher" foods that demand more work (digesting/metabolising). This toughens up the I -activating its functions.
The human -I has a natural relationship to sweetness, so even the most primitive (beautiful and far from unwise!) tribes go on honey-quests specifically for festive treats (and a Real Self boost). Sugars make the blood go round, and help us incarnate properly/ root (roots/tubers are full of sugars in the form of carbs).
So children also are naturally partial to sweet flavours. But this should be offered to them in natural foods (initially also NO honey) and to minimise complex conversations with sugar, I raised my son 100% sugar free in the first 10 years of his life, making it a basic rule to avoid cane and beet sugar, but also "artificial" or processed sweetners incl even the more natural ones (xylitol). I baked with grain-syrups and made deserts with maple syrup, honey or fig/date syrup or apple-concentrate. My son -naturally hyperactive - reacts quickly to sugars in a hyperglycemic way. To gradually prepare him for the real world where he won't always make the right sensible choices I allowed some sugar occasionally - the odd shop-biscuit or mousse as a desert as he grew older, but we still try to monitor this intake together (he is now 19, lives at home and is still all over the place energetically).
Products that don't need sugar and are chosen specifically for other nutritional values must be kept rigorously sugar free is my golden rule. So that excludes most tins and packets and yoghurts. But making sugary things sugar-free is just another nosense lie to the Self (and hence generally full of toxins). It does not send clear messages to the Self and it clouds judgement of how strong-willed and intuitive one really is.
It is very noticeable that my son has a refined palate, fond of the natural sweetness in vegetables and fruit and dislikes overly-sweet things to the point of being unable to eat many regular brands most kids eat all the time. He doesn't drink any sodas (let alone alcoholic beverages). And eventhough he will try-out stuff he sees pass by in adds on tv (candy bars) he steers clear of peanuts (not for an allergy but a whole different Anthroposophic reason!) and soon tires of trying to like them. He will read the labelling of products too and force himself to turn a blind eye (which is promising, as compared to people who never bother to find out the ingredients). As such, the experiment may be called successful!
Of course, the rule of thumb is as ever: moderation. But sometimes - as for any addiction - it is easier to just say no flat out, even if one glass of wine won't necessarily send you streaking down the street again.
So that was more my reason for going "extreme" at one stage. Otherwise I am very very tired of people with their strict dietary rules, forbidding sugar as if it's the devil incarnate, while half the world is poisoning themselves with every meal they eat or don't get to eat.
Good luck with your conversation! At least you're talking! (and not ignoring the situation).
I hate shopping. I have someone who does it for me and I try to grow some veggies too. i am Vegan (ethical and environmental reasons ) so I don't do the whole milk stuffs ...but shopping is a horror ...
What do you feed your dogs? I knew a Raw Food Veganist who did not feed her dogs meat. Personally I am a fan of Julie de Bairacli Levy's dog/cat rearing methods and herbal lore. But as a vegetarian, already, I would struggle with all that raw meat!
(Update on taking a dog or not:
My neighbour today, allergic to dogs, discouraged me from taking a dog; she said, you don't want to add another worry to your life. She listed fleas, vet and food bills, barking, ruined carpets, dug up bulbs, angry dog owners, angry non-dog owners, and slipping on ice when you have to let the dog out on icy mornings.
Not a good start to considering my options.
my furkids are fed plant based it is quite easy with dogs cats are trickier as they are real carnivores you have to know exactly what you are doing or you will kill them. Mine have been plant based for years but doing it right costs an arm and a leg , however ethically there is no other choice for me , both for the sake of animals and the planet . But again just feeding you dogs and cats veggies will kill them you need to know what to supplement how much , which proteins to use . What oils for aminos and with cats you have to check their urine PH regularly .
Very interesting and worth looking into (the conventional pet-food industry is definitely a no-no for me. (Are you sure the cats don't supplement their diets with a mousey every now and then?)
They are inside cat as it is to dangerous to be outside where I am. My ex's cat was vegan for over 22 years but you need to know what you are doing . They need a ton of supplements or a good catfood that fits the requirements . My cats are on Evolution maximum life it is grain free plants based and really good but it is 80-100$ a 40 pound bag . i also occasionally cook for them with the vegecat supplement. My Dogs I cook for with the vegedog supplement they eat over 120 pounds of split peas a month plus other things like brown rice , carrots , sunflower oil , flax seeds ect. ect. I am also organising a peer reviewed study but it is in the beginning stages ...
This is very useful and I will look out for more information when you have any.
I have a ton just remind me this week and i will give you inks over discord.
Probably most people do hate shopping. ... I think it's because hating to be nothing but a consumer. We are perfect consumers and got skills in shopping and trading. My whole nation consists of being a trading state. The profession of being an accountant got somehow honorable and once you finished it, all doors stand wide open for a further career. Except, you are a cashier. Nobody wants to work as one and people look down on them as if it's an undignified action. Seldom I meet proud cashiers .. Once I thanked an Asian lady because her pace was meeting mine: slow. She told me that she is old enough to give herself the luxury to be slow. I smiled and told her: "Rightly, so."
On another day it was hot and the woman behind the cash-register was all sweating and wishing for an ice cold coke, not speaking to me but to herself. I went over to the coffee-counter and told her colleague to give me a coke for her. When I wanted to pay, he said: "No, let me pay and just bring it over to her." Which I did. I often have an urge to get in touch with all the strangers in the shops but mostly they won't let me or are too absent minded. Which is a pitty.
When we arrived as a fresh emigrated family in Germany, they gave us bananas to eat and my siblings didn't know what that was. They turned that yellow thing in their hands. Many of the food was unknown to my parents and us. But of course, we quickly adapted to the full shelves and the obscene masses of food. My mom never looked back at scarce times and thought she was in heaven. Still, we bought milk and meat from the nearby farmers and had half of a pigs slaughtered body on the kitchen table. Then the ritual began: My parents al sweating and busy with the meat cutting and preparation. My father turned the meat through the mincer and my mother made aspic out of the remains. All went into the freezer to feed the hungry mouths later on.
Our garden was full of cucumbers, potatoes, tomatoes, herbs, peas and beans, fruits and berries. My parents didn't have to maintain there used lifestyles but wanted to go on with that. We children thought of them as stupid as everything could have been bought.
Though my mom and dad never made me working in the garden I observed enough to see that it's possible to live a self-sufficient life. Before the second world war, I was told that people all over the country had gardens with things to eat and used them for a living. ... I can still smell the scents of pickled cucumbers when my parents stood in the kitchen and boiled water and stuffed the vegetables in the glasses with fresh dill. ... Maybe I felt useless as they didn't teach me or involved me in the processes and maybe I would have refused to help. When all is cared for, what's left? Does life make any sense when one does not provide food for himself?
I feel even sorry when I pick mint or parsley from my balcony boxes and blind out all pity when I go shopping. I would be a bad gardener as I wouldn't want to cut and prune branches of living beings. But I guess I would get used to and accept that I am an animal which feeds on other animals and plants.
Thank you for your thoughts. I could smell the pickles with you for your vibrant description and hear the healthy bustling which was so matter of fact for them. It really must have been natural and first nature to your parents to cultivate their kitchen garden: that's when parents forget to teach their children properly (that's when grandparents come in handy).
The way we have lost touch with our food on the one hand is reflected by our health obsessions on the other. Dramatic swaying of the scales that can't end well...
My burning question now is, of course, where did you come from?!
yes, I can see the obsession too.
All the allergies are telling the distance between man and nature as well.
I am happy that I've got my memories and were witnessing first hand how a garden can be used. Wish, I had one myself.
We immigrated from Russia. I was born in Siberia, Kasachstan and from there we moved to Estonia. Arrived in Germany in 1974. Long family history ...
I've posted articles with old pictures and some I made during my Christmas stay last year at my parents house. Unfortunately, the garden changed a lot since my moms older years and she stopped gardening when she was too weak maintaining it. I haven't got pictures from the yard... I will maybe look up the photo-books when I am back next time:
https://steemit.com/life/@erh.germany/i-am-actually-born-in-the-last-century
https://steemit.com/life/@erh.germany/life-ends-with-death-may-the-love-be-with-you
https://steemit.com/sevendaybnwchallenge/@erh.germany/foto-story-seven-day-b-and-w-challenge-day-7-dumped-the-rules-totally-and-giving-you-details-on-every-picture
Thank you for refinding the relevant posts (I know that can be hard work!). It all makes sense now, that Slavic vibe. Although you are nothing alike post-wise, there is a hint of the tyger-tyger emotional-intensity and social engagement about you which has to have come with the early waters you drank. Steiner put all his hopes on the Slavic people, by the way: their attitude was suited to world leadership in the New next era (after the anglo-teutonic stream had run its course). He never mentioned the Asians or Africans much.... Interesting how your karma took you east and then back west. Such long lines of mobility are significant in the entire connective tissue of Consciousness always.
:-) I thank you for taking your precious time to look into the posts. I know how time-consuming this whole "steemiting" can be.
I haven't understood the tyger-tyger thing although you mentioned it here and there. Can you help me out?
... The "early waters" is an expression which put me in a deep place ... cannot really tell how but I guess you understand.
My very early childhood years (from being born until the age of four) seem to be mysterious as I am having difficulties to imagine myself as having lived at that time in Russia. ... But nevertheless, I feel a connection to the East and the melancholy of the Russians. Mostly because of how people use to sing. The high voices of the women and the low tones of the men in combination vibrates a lot... The sensed suffering in it ... maybe set me on the course of my life.
... I have never heard that Steiner put his hope into the Slavic people but then I haven't read his books... Now, ... pressure is on! No, just kidding. :-)
Oh, tyger-tyger is one of us on Steemit. She is a Russian in America and a vegan with vegan cats and dogs. A whirl-wind of energy (our age), but struggling to connect sometimes with "episodes" she often seeks some understanding for. Very brave, but like you and me a very difficult person (i.e. someone who has chosen to live an honest life).
Surrounded by beauty! Your environs/photos are quite lovely :)