Not buying and loving it

Maybe you, like me, have noticed a new trend of minimalism. As in, "I have four shirts and three pairs of pants and own a total 100 things and this has made me productive and calm". Some of them are even making money out of it.

I will never be that minimalist.

But I think I can move towards it. What I love about the concept is (a) not buying stuff, and (b) things looking tidier and cleaning becoming easier (and we could do with a bit more cleanliness and tidiness around here).

A surface that's been decluttered (kind of)

Not buying

There is also talk of the world having reached peak 'stuff'. However, looking at the tonnes of attractive and enticing crap available from shops (I am especially looking at you, $2 shops, The Warehouse, Farmers and Briscoes, but there are more), I am doubtful. When I drive past the queues of cars trying to get into crowded Briscoes/Rebel Sports carparks on sale days, I become highly skeptical. I'd be delighted if it was true. So would the waterways in China.

But here in our house in our corner of Hamilton, we have definitely reached peak 'stuff'. I am no longer even going into op shops without a shopping list. At the moment the list comprises a roasting dish (in which to put scraps for our chickens), a front door mat, a dartboard and attractive long sleeved cotton or linen collared shirts to keep the sun off my poor pale, freckly skin in summer. Without a list it is just too easy to accumulate more stuff, especially when it's cheap. I have no doubt that the fairy godmothers of the op shops will deliver. After all, the minimalists and the over-consumers are sending their stuff there these days.

This book case is next in line for some minimalising.
The Red Cross bookfair will benefit.

Cheap

Speaking of cheap, I am feeling exceedingly so at the moment, which is definitely contributing to the not-buying kick I'm on. Not so much cheap, but frugal, spurred on by the marvelous Frugalwoods blog. This youngish couple who live in Vermont, USA, are so frugal that I'd have to take food supplements with me if I went to visit (by which I mean actual food, not vitamins or something). Yes, they are lean, but fit, healthy and super smart, and headed for retirement at the ripe old age of 33.

They've just moved house, and I'm not sure about their heating plans for their coming winter, but for the previous ones in snowy Massachusetts they've heated their house to just 14 degrees C overnight and 16 degrees during the day in order to control heating costs. I must point out that I write this, admiringly, while basking in about 25 degree heat from our wonderful woodburner. I'm a weakling in the cold and I know it. However, it puts me in a better frame of mind about our frigid master bedroom, which the woodburner's heat can't reach, and is probably quite often only 14 degrees C. Thankfully global warming has meant it's so far been entirely bearable this year (I don't mean that: global warming sucks).

Our cat shares my love of winter warmth.

As Mrs Frugalwood points out, we can pretend we're like the Ingalls of Little House on the Prairie. Of course, we are far better off: midwest America in midwinter in an unheated attic bedroom would probably mean my Raynouds-diseased fingers would drop off.

Doing without

However I think we could all do with the dose of the Ingalls. Were they so much less happy than us with our fancy cheese (or any cheese at all), cashew nuts, gourmet potatoes, fish oil and cacao nibs? What we do know is that they were lean and strong, and that Laura Ingalls died in her 90s. (They also had no immunisations and some of them had terrible long term complications from illnesses that we no longer have to bear - thank you, modern medicine.)

I'm sure they, like most humans, would delight in being able to afford all the goodies in our shops. And yet they would have been disgusted at what it's done to our environment. We, however, have been like the frog heated slowly in water: it's hard to notice that it's getting hot. The writing I've been doing recently about New Zealand birds has highlighted to me how very much we've lost, much of it in the last 150 years. So I'm stepping back further than ever before from consumerism. And instead of it being hard, I feel better. An under-the-surface burden seems to have been lifted, and I like it.

So thanks all the same, but don't ask me to go shopping. Unless it's to an op shop with a good stainless steel roasting dish.

Loving our clean, junk-free beaches.

Dummies' guide to growing root veg

When autumn comes, I always adore the colours on the street trees in our local neighbourhood. The leaves have mostly fallen now, but a couple of weeks ago they looked like this:

What a wealthy, leafy suburb we live in! I always feel a bit overwhelmed at the privilege of it at this time of year. (Although, when you look inside the houses - and yes I am an open-home snooper - they are pretty dated and worn out, in general.) 

Out the back of our house, the veneer of the genteel look disappears, and there is a riotous little Good Life going on! Chickens, vegetables and abundant fruit, all a bit messy but very productive.

Carrots and parsnips from seed tape

These days you'll always find carrots and parsnips growing. We never used to bother with them, because it seemed too hard to get them to sprout reliably where we wanted them. They seem to sprout well if you let a plant go to seed and drop where it will, but with the root veg I like to control where they grow. And I dislike thinning.

Rows of carrot seedlings.

Then I discovered the fail-proof seed tape! It's like a strip of tissue with seeds impregnated in it at just the right distance apart. The seeds all sprout, and they are generally the right distance apart, although I do thin the carrots lightly, as I'd rather have 30 good sized carrots than 50 small ones. The parsnips don't seem to need it.

How to do it

In poor soil, nothing's going to grow well. So firstly, I put some compost on the soil and mix it up a bit. Then I make a 1 cm or so deep trench with my finger. I lay out the seed tape in the trench, then cover it lightly with soil. Finally - and crucially - firm the soil down well over the tape. Those little seeds do not like to meet air pockets.

Then - also crucial - keep it moist, watering lightly every day if it's hot and dry. Once the seeds have started to sprout, they need moisture or they'll die.

Huge, but not at all woody.

Why bother?

I used to think that carrots were cheap enough that there was no point growing them. But the taste...eating a raw shop-bought carrot is a chore. A homegrown one is a pleasure - sweet, crisp and light. 

Parsnip? I used to detest the very word. I'd only had watery mashed ones, long ago in university halls of residence. Then one day somebody gave us some from their garden, and my sister in law roasted them (or did she make parsnip chips?). I have loved them ever since, especially as part of a roast dinner, with gravy.

The perfect roast

Our potatoes failed utterly this year due to trying a new and unsuccessful space-saving method, so when roast time comes around, instead of spuds I have our home grown starchy veg. These are parsnips and some butternuts I grew next to a compost bin and over a fence. Our fussy children still have potatoes though (bought ones). 

One seedling (grown from a saved seed) grew about 12
butternuts on the goodness of a fine compost bin.

Winter or summer?

I planted the current lot of parsnips in mid summer, and they are ready now, but will sit happily in the ground all winter waiting to be dug up when needed. Indeed, they will become even sweeter when (or if) we get a frost. If I leave them until spring, they'll go to seed. They will still look all right when I dig them up, but be inedibly woody. I'll plant some more parsnip seed tape in spring, and they should be ready about mid summer. 

Carrots grow faster than parsnips, but both grow very slowly or pause completely in winter. Our current lot (planted in about February or March) will have to do us over winter, and I'll start planting more in September. Or if this crazy warm weather lasts, I might try sowing more in winter. Because the season is madly warm. Look what I got out of our garden last week, in the last month of autumn!

A late autumn harvest. Beans and tomatoes in May: what the heck?

We live in Hamilton, New Zealand: I have no idea how these things work where it's hotter or colder. 

Also, we have had a lot of grapes. So, so many grapes. Sadly they are now mostly feeding hundreds of wasps.

Green grapes "Niagra"

Ah, vegetable gardening. Still loving it, after all these years (23 years, minus 4 when I was overseas, from student to worker to mother).

The cheap way to get brainy children

There's been a bit of monopoly in this house recently (guiltily, I rarely play... it just takes too long!). Anna decided a New Zealand version was needed. It's very much an Anna version, too.

We love having no TV!

Which gets me wondering... there has been a lot of publicity in recent days about children not meeting national standards in school, and a whole lot of blame doled out to teachers. I wonder what the graph comparing screen time with school marks would look like? I reckon there would be a strong correlation.

Sadly, what I see at my daughter's primary school is a push for e-learning. The stuff I've been learning recently about neuroplasticity (how the brain remodels itself according to what we demand of it) makes me just as concerned as my own gut reaction to it does.

So, while other children diligently do their 'homework' on the computer and iPad, my daughter creates a monopoly set. Who do you think gets top of the class?

That is not to blame teachers: they need good evidence-based, objective research they can rely on when it comes to new technologies, and my questioning of various people tells me they are not getting that. In fact, they are getting some disturbingly subjective advice. And the cost of it all - the devices, the training, the maintenance....

I also think that a whole lot of the brain development underpinning school learning is already done by the time teachers get involved. I think little preschool brains - which have the most immense capacity for learning - need to be saturated and delighted with books, stories, dances, walks, and talk talk talking! Tell them about things you think they can't understand. Name and explain everything. It costs nothing (libraries are free), and it is enormous fun. In the meantime, neurons are growing and connecting by the millions.

Apparently the difference in the number of words children have heard by the time they get to school differs by many millions depending on how educated their parents are. Depressingly, those who hear millions fewer almost never catch up (they do learn, it's just that the others start so much further ahead, and they keep learning too). In the US - or is it the UK? - there are programmes to teach parents how to 'teach'*  their preschoolers (hopefully without formal lessons). Perhaps that is a better way to spend money than on e-learning and more teacher training.

* It should only feel like pleasurable play for both parties, not formal lessons.

I forgot to teach her how to spell castle! Or where $ signs go.
Sometimes I let these things go for a few years, because they
are so very cute.

(ps: if anyone is truly looking for a cheap way to get brainy children, I'd also learn everything you can about breastfeeding before the birth, breastfeed for as long as possible, take fish oil during pregnancy and breastfeeding, and exercise during pregnancy - although that's almost impossible while you're nauseous. There is controversy about the link between breastfeeding and the child's IQ, but it's definitely the cheaper option.)

The thrill of electric cars

I detest exhaust fumes, and have to stop myself approaching vehicles idling unnecessarily to ask the drivers to turn off their engines. Not always do I stop myself, and have learnt from grumpy drivers that refrigerated trucks indeed need to leave their engines running, or the food inside warms up! But did you know that diesel exhausts contain a known carcinogen?

That's just one reason I'm keen on electric cars. A few weeks ago I drove an electric car (a Nissan Leaf) for the first time. It was, well, the same as a normal car except quieter, and outside there were no fumes to sicken people. The flash keyless starter was also new to me, because we refuse to waste money on expensive cars. Our safe oldish station wagon serves us well.

The highlight of my recent reluctant mall visit: an
electric vehicle charging station in the carpark of
 Bayfair Mall, Mount Maunganui.

Eventually, though we will almost certainly go electric, and the Leaf is the most affordable option. One day I may even be lured to a shopping mall by the convenient charging stations they supply in their carparks. While I try to avoid wasting money on junk as my children beg me to do otherwise, at least the battery will be getting charged.

Cheap

Apparently it costs only about $3 at current electricity prices to recharge an electric car's battery. It costs about $90 to refill our car! (Although I'm sure a tank fill takes me a lot further than a battery fill, but nowhere near 60 times further). Because most of New Zealand's electricity is renewable, it's also a climate-friendly way to fuel your transport. (We shouldn't be too supercilious about our renewable electricity, though: damming rivers for hydro-electricity is ecologically disastrous, and it's only the electricity portion of our energy that's mostly renewable. We rely on fossil fuels and gas a lot, so our actual energy use is less than 50% renewable).

We get free electricity at home when the sun shines, so when we eventually own a Leaf, much of our battery charging will be free.

Policy and clever Norwegians

At Easter there was a fascinating radio interview by Kim Hill with the Secretary General of the Norwegian Electric Vehicle Association. Kim told her that the NZ Government would probably let the market decide when electric vehicles would become commonplace here. The clever woman replied that WE HAVEN'T GOT TIME for that. There is this thing called global warming. We burna de oil, we warma de planet (my words, not hers; her English was excellent.)

Fortunately it seems Kim was not altogether correct. From the latest Automobile Association magazine, page 43: the Minister of Transport has asked officials to investigate what can be done to increase the uptake of electric vehicles. Hopefully they'll come up with some of the clever encouraging tweaks that the Norwegian government successfully introduced years ago.

Indeed the government is aware that eventually, due to some type of global carbon tax (not to mention drought, famine, floods, climate refugees, etc), emitting greenhouse gases is going to hit us in the wallet. Transport accounted for 17% of our greenhouse gas emissions in 2013 (page 3 of this document), and dropping that percentage will help us meet our emissions targets. In Paris last year, New Zealand presented its target to drop greenhouse gas emissions to 30% below the 2005 level by 2030.

Let's make sure we do what we say we will!

Electrifying concerns

• Manufacturing a new car is a polluting act. According to New Scientist (sorry I don't have an exact reference), it takes about three years of driving to account for the emissions caused by the car's production, although of course the exact length of time depends on your mileage.
• Will my battery go flat amidst paddocks? Possibly, which is why a network of recharging stations is vital. Or, you could splash out and buy a hybrid, which has a tank of fossil-fuel back up.
• What if it breaks down and costs a lot to fix? Electric vehicles are apparently far less costly to maintain and repair than what is currently "normal".  

p.s. Note to self: bike not drive, bike not drive, bike not drive!

A clever UK "ride your bike" promotion.

When the going gets tough

So often when our family goes for a walk, it doesn't work out like we expect. The weather is perfect - either because there's plenty of shade from the hot sun, or we've got out early or late enough in the day (can you tell I'm writing this at the end of a very hot summer?) - and the scenery is stunning.

Get us back to the car fast - what care we for the elvish scenery
that can be found hardly anywhere in the world?
(On Mount Taranaki)

And yet, the children dawdle and complain. How can this be anyone's idea of fun, they wonder?

Then suddenly the terrain changes. Instead of a manicured track, we have a mountain goat path. There are rocks to step over and around, and if this was the USA, I suppose there would be warning signs. In fact, on one of these tracks we walked up this summer on Mount Maunganui, there were warning signs - in fact it was closed. But as I suddenly had an eager mountain goat of a child who had pulled ahead in front of me, so we tackled it.

Good balance, strong feet and ankles and sharp senses are great ways to keep you engaged and safe.

During our Mount walk, we were very quickly at the top, triumphant, with all thoughts of boredom banished.

What we adults find convenient, children seem to find boring... and when things get challenging, they are on fire!

Last month Anna and I went on a trip down to Wellington. We had a wonderful time at the zoo there, especially watching chimpanzees. When their many kilos of fruit and vegetables had been laid out for their dinner, the difference was stark. The older chimps sat there stolidly munching on their carrots. The little ones frolicked and climbed on their awesome jungle gyms, recklessly burning energy and loving every minute of it. I couldn't help but compare them to human adults and children.

We could only watch this through fairly smudgy, scratched glass, so I didn't get photos of it. But in the outdoor enclosure I did snap some of the most loving mother-baby chimp scenes I've ever seen. It seems that when you're a bit tired, cuddling is never boring.

Plums and tomatoes in winter

A few years ago a friend served me plum sorbet she'd made in her icecream maker. The plums were from her backyard tree, and I was so impressed by the winter flavour burst of summer plums that I promptly bought my own icecream maker. Sadly it has mainly sat in the cupboard, and you might see it on Trade Me soon.

My version

Now I have come up with my own way of having my hit of plums all year round. Our Hawera plum tree is dropping more fruit every day than we can eat, and many of them are over-ripe. Roughly chopped and frozen, though, and added to a smoothie, they are incredible. Better than frozen berries, I reckon, and I know that's saying a lot.

My smoothie has a banana, frozen plums, kefir (or unsweetened yoghurt) and a teaspoon of coconut oil. I whiz it up with a stick blender. It's delicious, cheap, healthy and filling.

Harvest tomato sauce

We manage to eat enough tomatoes around here that we don't have a lot left to cook with - or maybe the problem is that we don't grow enough. Anyway, I buy big, cheap bags of cooking tomatoes from the Farmer's Market. Then I make Annabel Langbein's Harvest Tomato Sauce (see the recipe here). It is the BEST, and incredibly easy - in spite of what the recipe says, you don't even need to chop the tomatoes - just throw them whole into the roasting dish with the other ingredients, stir and put in the oven. It gets pureed after cooking and cooling.

I also modify the recipe by leaving out the capsicum (purely because we scoff all those raw), chilli and sugar.

Then I freeze a lot of it in old honey containers. We use it on pizza bases, on fried eggplant for eggplant parmesan, and with pasta and meatballs. My children love to eat it by itself with spaghetti noodles, too.

Enjoy!

Abundance and lakes

It's the height of summer here: close to 30oC most days. The garden is loving it, with free food all over our front and back yard. Cucumbers, zucchinis, salad greens, herbs, tomatoes, berries, plums, and flowers for the bees. The grapes are hanging voluptuously, but are still hard and green. It's a good feeling when our preparatory garden work bears fruit, literally. (Not sure what happened to the beans this year - I'm trying hard not to think about their disappointing crop.)

Hawera plums

Luisa plums
(note the insect-damaged leaves, but the fruit are wonderful despite it).

The oregano flowers are usually covered with huge bumblebees.

Poppies and alyssum for the bees, with a young tamarillo tree
behind.

Luscious blackberries ripening on our driveway fence.

The vegetables would be pretty sad if we weren't watering them, although the fruit manages fine. It's the kind of weather that makes us do outside jobs and exercise either first thing in the morning or after dinner, and fall into the (neighbour's) pool at about 5 pm.

The heat and humidity drains me. So last weekend I packed up the car and took the children, plus a friend, camping at the Rotorua Lakes. Just an hour or so of driving later we were at the gorgeous blue lake, surrounded by verdant bush and cool blue water. The air was several degrees cooler, as well. So we swum, and swum, and swum.

Evening swim at the Blue Lake.

Lake Tarawera - I love that volcano looming in the background.

While we were there, we took part in some Falconry at Wingspan - fascinating!

A female New Zealand falcon

A summer visit to the Tree Church

If you live in Hamilton, or find yourself visiting here, I highly recommend a trip to the Tree Church. How beautiful it is!

Just a 10 or so minute drive from town out towards Ohaupo we turned into a property on a rural road - the type that you find plum stalls on - and indeed they were good plums.

The entrance gate to the church.

Up the driveway we came to the Tree Church. It was created by a man who loves to relocate mature trees, and who has traveled the world and taken note of the architecture of a lot of churches. He combined his passions by planting trees that are growing up and over a metal frame that one day won't need to be there, because the trees themselves will form the framework.

It is creative, immaculate, peaceful and enchanting, and we loved it.

It would be a magical place to have a wedding (although not cheap at $2-3,000). The bride would walk through this grove of trees. I think they are silver birches, but they are surreal ones. Does the owner polish the trunks, do you think? I've never seen such clean, tidy bark!

At the alter would stand the groom awaiting his bride. But it's not just any alter, it is a looming, impressive alter that seems ancient.

The guests, while deliciously shaded by the leafy roof, might notice the roses entwined in the trees around them. (If it rained they would need umbrellas.) 

The reception, or the first phase of it at least, would take place under this magnificent canopy.

The guests could also stroll in the surrounding gardens, which are also gorgeous.

Best of all, there are chickens there. I took no photographs of them though - I know, what was I thinking?

There are huge spreading trees with picnic tables under them, and visitors such as you and me (not wedding guests, I suppose) are encouraged to bring a picnic to eat in their shade. Visiting times are from October to May, Sundays and Tuesdays from 10-4 pm. Admission is $10 per person, although I think I overheard the girl at the till saying that it is $5 for children under 14. 

For up to date information, check their website: http://treechurch.co.nz/

Enjoy this fairytale place!