Procrastinating

Lordy what a gorgeous sunny day. I've got the windows open. It's almost enough to make me forget that tomorrow is supposed to wet and cold.

I saw the first honeybees of the season and the crocus are now fully open. I also saw a couple of gardeners cracking open their sleepy garden soils. It does my heart good.

In totally unrelated news, here is one example of the many reasons I hate the world's ridiculous obsession with utterly useless technology: MeBot Seriously?

Looks like I'm going to be traveling to San Diego for work in a couple of weeks. I'm meeting with some Navy officials about renewable energy optimization on their bases. I may extend my stay and soak up some beach while I'm there.

In April I'm off to DC for mom's birthday, and in May mom is coming to Boulder for my birthday. I'm surprising her with a room at the Hotel Boulderado, one of her favorite spots in town.

June, July and August I plan to burn all of my vacation time: New York, Chicago, Portland, Yellowstone National Park, Sequoia National Park and the Grand Canyon are my top considerations.

But at the moment, I have 7.5 days until the quarter ends and all of my assignments must be submitted for final grades. With diligence and a dash of luck, I'll get it all done this weekend and I can breathe easy for a couple of weeks until the spring quarter starts. I'm so looking forward to summer.

Spring!

Nearly every day this week was in the 50's, the first "warm" streak since last fall. Over the next five days it may not even dip below freezing at night. Woohoo! This morning while walking to the gym I noticed spring flowers in someone's garden! Yes, the good 'ol crocus, always first to push through the frozen soil in early spring, has graced us once again with its lovely yellow, white and purple flowers here in Boulder. More trees are starting to bud. Soon daffodils and tulips and green leaves will be everywhere, and I'm going to cry like a baby if a late winter storm throws a wrench in the works again this year.

I was just reading about the kickoff to the Star of Texas Fair and Rodeo in Austin. It's going to be eighty degrees in Austin next week. EIGHTY! That's like summer here! I'm really getting homesick thinking about all those Texans in their cowboy hats and trucks and short sleeves enjoying the rodeo while we're just barely starting to thaw out up here. There's still piles of snow taller than me outside.

But then again, we do have mountains. And wilderness unlike anything in Texas. When it's mid-August and Austinites are oppressed by scorching sun and 110 degree heat mixed with 90% humidity and smog, I'll be under a crisp blue sky enjoying 87 degrees and almost no humidity.

Who am I kidding. I love that Texas heat! I guess I just love it all: Colorado or Texas. Frigid snowstorms or scorching heat waves. Icy whitewater streams or tepid lazy rivers. Stuck-up vegan do-gooders or ass-backward conservative ignoramuses.

Wait, scratch that last set.

UPDATE: I just checked the weather. It's going to freeze every night and another snow is expected this weekend. Dammit!

Would it be extravagant if I flew to Austin next weekend, bought an F350 and drove it out to the rodeo?

Hints of Spring

There are no tulips yet (outside of the Whole Foods floral department) but signs of spring are in the air. The early bird trees such as the cottonwoods have already put buds on, and the snow levels and temperature are both on the rise. It's been snowing lightly for days, and we're supposed to get up to 8 more inches by Monday night. I shoveled the sidewalk this morning and the snow was heavy and wet, a sure sign that spring is coming.

But the most exciting signs are the return of the northern flicker, which sings every morning and has already started hammering on the chimney, and tonight's annual Red Party, the first social gathering I ever attended in Boulder, and where I met my first Boulder friends.

Yeehaw! I'm ready.

Summery Thoughts

Another birthday has come and gone. I wasn't planning to do anything at all until Friday morning when I suddenly decided I wanted to take off for Moab for a few days of hiking and camping before the hordes of child-toting families kick of the summer vacation season. The truck was half packed with gear when I learned that Scott was flying up from Austin that evening to surprise me. So Moab wasn't in the cards last weekend, but we had a good time. I got a few friends together for dinner, we saw The Flatlanders at the Boulder Theater, and we spent an entire day hiking Roxborough State Park and touring the ancient Anasazi ruins in Manitou Springs. We couldn't have asked for more beautiful weather, and all-in-all it was a good way to celebrate the passing of 35 years.

I'm still pushing for Moab. Hopefully this weekend, though the forecast is showing more than a slight chance of thundershowers out there. If Moab still isn't in the cards we'll have to rough it in Boulder. I say "rough it" because this weekend is hands-down the craziest time of the year in Boulder. Memorial Day weekend is three days of Boulder Creek Festival stuffed with a farmer's market, and capped with the Bolder Boulder. The Creek Fest stretches a good six blocks or more and it's one of the biggest (if not THE biggest) event in Boulder County. Food, crafts, carnival games, rubber duck races down the creek - everything you'd expect from such an event. The Bolder Boulder, a 10k race which takes place on Memorial Day, is the largest timed race in the United States and is the 5th largest road race in the world. This year the one millionth participant registered for the race which brings in about $10 million annually. All told, the weekends events are expected to bring well over 50,000 people to our fair city of less than 100,000. All this will be taking place literally outside my back door. It really is a nice way to kickoff the summer. Boulder Creek is swollen with spring snowmelt, the sun is up by 5:45AM, and this weekend officially marks the end of frost season.

Summer, you are most welcome.

Yet Another Snow Day

Another massing spring storm closed the lab and area businesses today as it dumped several feet of wet snow along the Front Range. I only left home once for a short hike to get some pictures. Above is the view from Red Rocks looking across Boulder Canyon during a brief lull.

You know, back when I worked for the DOT in Texas we got a lot of crazy holidays, like Confederate Heroes Day (known as Confederate Memorial Day in every other state except Tennessee which calls it Confederate Decoration Day.) These days I just get the standard holidays, but it's made up for in snow days. I like the snow days better. Since they're unplanned it's like receiving an unexpected gift in the mail. Plus "snow day" just has a nicer connotation.

Farmer's Market 2009

It begins.

As of yesterday, NOAA was forecasting a blizzard for today, the opening day of the 2009 Boulder Farmer's Market. Indeed it did snow last night and was still snowing lightly this morning. But the ground is so warm it's not sticking to paved surfaces, or any surface for too long. Note the snow on the trees in the photo.

I had thought I might not even leave the house today if the weather was going to be as bad as predicted. I knew at least one farmer who let me know in advance she wouldn't be setting up her booth. But let's be honest, what are the chances of me NOT getting down to the market on opening day?

So there I was, just minutes before the market officially opened, walking up the trail. "There's a tent! I see one! And there's another one!" I said to Gerard, relieved to know that at least some vendors made it, and excited at what their presence means. It was visual confirmation that spring had come. The season of plenty had arrived.

Fewer than half the vendors who will eventually make up the market were there today, but most don't even have anything to sell yet. In fact only one vendor, Anne and Paul Cure of Cure Organic Farm, had fresh greens - lettuces, spinach and salad mixes which like the cooler weather. Another, Three R's Farm, had tomatoes, but they've always got tomatoes thanks to their year round greenhouse operation. Our mushroom man was there. He's also got a great indoor operation growing baby bellas, shitake, trumpets and many others. The pickle guys of Mountain Valley Canning were there. They buy cucumbers, horseradish, sugar and spices from the other farmers and make the best pickles and horseradish I've ever had. Reuben, our super nice sprout guy was there, and so were the handsome young bread guys of Udi's Bakery, the rancher of Homestead Natural Beef, and lots of pastry-making women. In fact there was a new one today, a German woman with a very heavy accent who makes absolutely heavenly pastries. "She's the real thing," Gerard said after trying her cinnamon crisp. "She's not just trying to pretend she knows German pastries!"

And of course, the taste of the Boulder market is the "Amaizing Corn Tamale" of which I had to partake. Winter is officially over. It doesn't matter if it's still snowing.

It was so nice to reconnect with everyone. The standard greeting on the air was, "Hey _____, how are you!? How was your winter?" I hadn't seen most of these farmers and food artisans since last fall, and the die-hards (like me) were reconnecting with farmer friends throughout the market. I also saw some other Boulder friends and even a co-worker who had driven up from Golden and ran 17 miles on Boulder trails by 8AM. (He likes to come to Boulder to train and shop the market but lives in Golden because it's closer to work.)

I spent more time chatting and catching up than I did actually shopping, and this is one of the things that makes the farmer's market such a wonderful part of local culture. It brings people together. It's a place not just to shop but to meet new people and strengthen bonds of friendship. It builds community, and community is something Boulder does very well. The market is so popular, organizers are currently working on a complete redesign to try and accommodate the crowds and the ever growing list of vendors.

So my kitchen is now filling with the flavors of a new season just as the flavors of fall and winter are almost at an end. The winter squash are all eaten. I've got a few random jars of ketchup, cherry bomb peppers, pasta sauce and others and probably a little too much pumpkin butter. (Note to self: next fall I need way more salsa and a little less pumpkin butter!) I've got a little frozen fruit left, and a few miscellaneous containers of dry goods. Everything else is gone. Of course there's always an ample supply of bison, elk, pork, milk, butter, yogurt, cheese and eggs. But now the house once again is filled with the aroma of fresh green onions scrambled in with our eggs. We've got crisp, spicy salads, tender baby spinach, zippy red radishes, a wide variety of sweet little sprouts and an abundance of colorful Nasturtium flowers on our plates.

The winter slumber is over and the earth is waking up. Welcome, spring.

Another Snow Day!

Last Friday's snowfall ended up dumping 15 delicious inches of wet snow in Boulder. Farmers are rejoicing. The lab was closed Thursday and Friday so I got a four day weekend out of the deal.

Most of it had vanished by today, except the mountains of it piled next to parking lots and lawns and mountainsides facing north. But roads, walkways and most of the parks are quite snow-free. Or they were until about an hour ago when another spring snowstorm blew in. There's probably two inches already and forecasters are saying we could get as much as a foot before daybreak. Looks like the winter drought is over and we're all expecting a very green spring. I am a little concerned for all the fruit trees whose lovely white flowers are now brown and drooping.

I really love spring snow. It's pretty. It also delivers a lot of moisture to the soil, which is great for gardens and wildflowers and reducing grass & forest fire threats. Flakes are heavy, chunky and wet. It sticks. Actually it tends to encrust everything, including pedestrians. That part I'm not as fond of. Still, an abundance of sweet spring snow is a good omen. A warm and bountiful summer is right around the corner. The official kickoff, in my mind, is two days from now when the farmer's market commences once again! I hope the weather is nice.

Snow Day!

As I mentioned in a previous post, the Front Range is about 19 inches behind on snowfall this year. March, typically our snowiest month, has brought only an inch of snow to Boulder.

Well, we're going to make up for all of that today. Yesterday forecasters said we were in for a mild blizzard today. So far this morning we've had over 6 inches and we're predicted to get up to 19 inches by tomorrow morning. A little further east on the plains could see over two feet. Schools and businesses have closed and I'm curled up on the sofa watching it come down. I'm off tomorrow anyway, so I've got a nice 4 day weekend of doing nothing to look forward to.

I love the snow but it's a bit weird this year. Flowers and trees are blooming everywhere and the days have been warm and spring like for quite some time. It's like going from winter, half way into spring, and then back into winter. But this snow is very welcome. It's a nice wet spring snow and it's bringing a healthy dose of moisture to the plains. Looks like spring is going to be a lot greener than I thought!

The Urban Homestead

The calendar may disagree, but spring has arrived in Colorado.

And so begins a new season of work for the homesteader, urban or otherwise. Gerard and I were talking this morning about cycles (not the bi- or motor- kind). Successful athletes train heavy, punctuated by periods of active rest or "back-off" sessions. Most nutritionists agree that periods of fasting or, at the very least staggering you caloric intake, can help keep you lean. Even the concept of weekends offers respite from the daily grind, a cycle of work and rest. And so too the farmer and backyard gardener must stir from winter's rest to begin the planting that will end with the harvest. Nature, indeed everything I can think of, runs in cycles of on and off periods. Maybe that's why I get so much pleasure from abandoning "fresh" tomatoes in January and savoring them only during the summer months when they can be grown in my back yard. It just feels natural.

Of course that's not the only reason, but I have to say I have a much greater appreciation for some of the things which are most mundane to the average supermarket shopper. (I know, I was one of those supermarket shoppers most of my life.) Never before was I as excited about the warm months as since I moved to a place where winters are long and intense. Never have I looked upon a ripe red tomato or dark crisp vegetables with such adoration as I have since I gave up the supermarket. Never have I savored a hot slice of bread slathered with butter as I have since I started baking my own bread and churning my own butter. Why? Because I now know how wonderful these things really are. I no longer take them for granted because they aren't granted to me anytime I want them. I know how precious they are and how much work it takes to get them. When I was a child my mom told me how, when she was a little girl growing up dirt poor, for Christmas they would sometimes get a little fruit and it was a big treat. I remember I snubbed my nose and thought what a lame Christmas that must have been! Of course I was spoiled by her childhood standards. We weren't rich, but anything I wanted to eat was in the kitchen any given day of the year. An apple or an orange meant nothing to me. I wanted armloads of plastic toys. Can I honestly say my childhood was better having had the "luxury" of caring about an abundance of plastic toys more than a few pieces of fresh fruit? Life seemed so unfair if my mom wouldn't (or couldn't) buy me a toy I demanded. I never knew what it was like to long for something that could actually impact my life, like food. How might that have affected me as an adult? How might that today influence my ability to deal with the curve balls life throws?

My quest to be self sufficient, local, healthy and as free as possible from corporate overlords has taught me a lot of exciting and difficult lessons. It has taught me a lot of skills that are lost on most Americans but that at one time were quite commonplace. It has given me an entirely new perspective on the world, a much greater appreciation for the things in my life, and a sense of wholeness and joy that no amount of material things could ever bring me. My most recent conquest: bread. I've been baking my own bread for a couple of years, but until recently I was still a slave to the little plastic packets of commercial yeast. Obviously, those are new fangled products invented by someone who wanted to make a buck. Specifically, it was a man named Charles Fleischmann who introduced pre-made yeast packets to the world in 1876. Yet people have been baking bread, even leavened (risen) bread, since the stone age. How did we manage all those millennia until yeast packets became widespread in the 20th century? One answer: sourdough. After a few failures and months of digging, I finally was able to cut through all the myths and misinformation floating around the internet to discover the delightfully simple formula for bringing this ancient culinary wonder into my home. Mix flour and water and feed it daily for two weeks. That's it. At the end of two weeks you have a jar full of strong sourdough culture that can be propagated indefinitely. How amazing is this: the very organisms you need to make a fluffy loaf of bread live in abundance in the air and on the very flour that will become your bread. All you need to do is coax them into a dense symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeast with a little bit of food and warm water. With your sourdough starter you can make all sorts of delicious, nutritious breads and pancakes, no mass produced industrial plastic packets of genetically modified superyeast is necessary. That, my friends, is an every day miracle.

So it was on this sunny Sunday morning over my first batch of fluffy sourdough pancakes, slathered with home churned butter and preserves made from last summer's peaches, that Gerard and I discussed the cycles of our lives. Though I gave up church and organized religion many years ago, I suppose this is our way of honoring God or the Universe or the Great Spirit and all the true wonders of this world. Our church is our chemical-free home, stocked with clean foods grown by the loving toil of real people, our neighbors. Our tithe is the labor we invest in growing, preserving and preparing the nutrition given to us by the rich soils beneath our feet and the warm sunshine that shines on our faces. And our prayers are understanding the miracle of it all and never taking for granted the luxury of having so much good food to eat.

Eckhart Tolle believes that all the beauty of nature spanning the vast expanse of space and time was unknown until humans, in all our sentient complexity, came along to tell her how beautiful she is. I suppose that's another reason why I spend so much time figuring out how to churn butter and make sourdough. It's my way of honoring the beauty of nature and saying I acknowledge that I am part of her and her endless cycles.