The last day of my life.

Five years ago today, being fed up with my pitiful fat waddle and baby-induced sciatica going down my right buttock and leg, I became determined. I had been pregnant for 41 weeks and a day, and was feeling very uncomfortable with even the discussion of inducing labor at the hospital. I decided it was time to take action. After eating pineapple for lunch, I boiled up a big pot of Raspberry Leaf tea and began to sip it. As the afternoon progressed, I started popping evening primrose oil capsules, rubbing my nipples, and massaging my hoku spot (among other things). I was beginning to feel a little peculiar. So I headed to the local Mexican place and ate the spiciest food I could get a hold of, and then took a long walk around lake Merritt. There on a bench behind Fairy Land it happened. My 9.6 pound baby's body and mine began to move in unison.

That was just the beginning.

I mused on my walk home, every time I stopped to maintain my balance during contractions, that all these people around me had no idea I was in labor. I remember looking people in the eyes thinking "Can you tell I am having a baby?" but only smiling, which may have at times looked like a grimace.

We're a goin' on a trip!

Though I have less funds than I had been planning at this particular point in my life, I went ahead and bought plane tickets to Costa Rica on a credit card.  February 27th. When I told my mom over the phone the other day, she immediately responded, “I thought you don’t have any money.”  Ugh, my downer mom.   “…you asked us to all go in on a Christmas gift this year and get you a sewing machine because you said you can’t afford one, but you have enough for Costa Rica?”  I tell her I put in on a credit card.  So what anyway!?!?  I have priorities. I earn my own money, mommy! Right now was the time to get the tickets.  

It is true that I can’t afford a sewing machine, but what one can afford is not always a matter of how much money one has (especially in the days of credit and the stock market).  It’s a matter of priorities and how much risk you are going to take. I wouldn’t go into debt for a thing.  When I was a child and my mother was young, it always turned out that, though there were times when she couldn’t feed her children, she always seemed to manage to be able to afford the paint and other supplies she needed.  I have never held this against her, because I get it.  She needs to do art to keep her sanity.  Art supplies were a necessity. She sacrificed much of her money, days and time to raising us three kids, something our fathers did not do.  She deserved to have something that wasn’t to be sacrificed simply because she was a single mother.

For me, the occasional and regular self-displacement from my life, culture, home, town, is a necessity.  I haven’t left the country for two and a half years.   Leaving helps me see clearly, away from mundaniness, the regularity, the familiarity that works my thought cycles in circles.  It gets me back in touch with myself, in order to grow in a more authentic way.  

But this trip is extra special ‘cause we are going to meet Ramona’s paternal family.  She has never met her father.  He doesn’t really talk to me and he doesn’t do the internet.  He didn’t have a cell when I was there, and no one has given a number to me.  Once in a while I hear a word.  But I am not going for him.  Ramona wants to meet her dad, so I am taking her.  Lately, when the subject of her father comes up in conversations with people, she replies with a nervous sort of laugh.  One that is quite familiar to me.  It is the exact same nervous giggle I used to emit when I was little and confronted with a situation that I was uncomfortable and insecure about.  I still have a version of it as an adult.

Now, when I mention to someone our trip to Costa Rica, she declares, “We are going to go see my dad!”  I had never heard her say “dad” with such boldness before this.  She is thrilled and proud to go. I try to help her not have her hopes up too much.  Of course I don’t want her to be disappointed.  But I know that the time is now, she wants to meet her father. 

(The suspension bridge in the cloud forest just north of Santa Elena, where R's dad lives.) 

Besides, she loves to travel.  She is quite adventurous and curious; traveling fulfills her quest for constant stimulation and newness.  If things feel uncomfortable with his family, we we will be spending three weeks in a beautiful tropical paradise.

But yes, I am nervous.  I know not to worry too much, because the truth is that most likely everything with turn our great.  I left her dad because I couldn’t be his partner (i.e. wife).  I was not willing to live in Costa Rica with him.  We are not made for each other. I didn’t trust that my staying would cure him of his issues with drinking, drugs, jealousy, etc.  I wanted to protect my daughter from the horrors that children go through when their parents’ relationship gets ugly.  I knew it would end, and why make the baby be there to witness the pain of the separation? Not that he doesn’t have a good heart, he does.  He was always kind and gentle to me.  He’s been hurt in his life and doesn’t know how to deal with it in a productive manner.  

And honestly, I am also nervous because there was no lack of chemistry between us.  I know that we were attracted to each other until the day I left. I know that, as I ran from the house, late, to catch the bus, we both hoped on some level that I would miss the bus.  

Raw Milk (and Butter) Ruckus

Bummed the FDA has been putting pressure on my farmer for selling us raw cow milk.  Not us personally, but anybody.  It is illegal in most states now, because of, they say, risks of contamination.  Of course, everything is at risk of contamination.  There are so many scare tactics out there about raw milk (I can't even go there, it would take me all week to write), you would think it was responsible for at least one death…nope.  I am more likely to win the lottery than get sick from raw milk, especially since I get the milk straight from a healthy cow within hours of the milking.  No processing plant.  No employees that may not have been trained well.  I am furious that the FDA is forcing a wedge between me and my farmer.  And since when has the FDA been enforcing state laws? Food and Drug Fascists. 

I love raw milk.  It is a living food.  I am all about living foods.  You are what you eat.  Living foods come from healthy colonies of bacteria and yeasts, they grow from living soil, they come unadulterated from an animal. They come from a living food system, not the industrial food system of irradiated and sterile food, full of preservatives and toxic crap.  Dead Foods from diseased places.  Living foods can not be part of the industrial food system, because the system kills them.  Corn and other grains are so bad for cows that they have to be shot up with antibiotics for their milk to even be suitable for human consumption.  And of course all the indigestion caused by eating what their bodies are not meant to eat creates some seriously gassy bovines, emitting tons of extra methane, a greenhouse gas. 

I tend to think that nature will provide for me perfect foods, not scientists who are still discovering vitamins that they never even knew existed (and still don’t know what they are for). Raw milk contains 8 amino acids and 60 fully intact and functional enzymes, pasteurized milk has none.  In fact, humans could live solely off of the milk of a healthy, pasture fed cow.  Or so they say (click here for a great article explaining raw milk nutrients).

I had heard that once you start to drink raw milk, you never go back.  Well, I now agree.  I have been drinking it only a little while, but my body knows that raw milk is good food.  It tastes better. There is no flemmy after effect, or bloated feeling in my belly.  Plus, we get make a cube of fresh sweet cream butter every week from the milk fat.  Sometimes, I make yogurt as well.

So now we are on a hunt for a new raw milk source.  One way to get raw milk legally here in California is to buy a cow share.  So that is what we are looking to do.  And I have invited some friends to join me. 

Butter is super easy to make...check it out

 Here is a beautiful 1/2 gallon of milk, with a big old head of cream, ready for making into butter.  This one has been sitting in the fridge a couple days...I usually make the butter the night after the morning of milking cause it tastes so fresh and sweet.  I didn't get to it on time this time.

Heavy cream from the top, sitting, beckoning me to make it into butter.  This is a quart jar.  1/3 full is a good amount.  More than half full will leave you with not enough room for the next part.

And she is off, shaking and shaking the cream.  You need to shake for a while.  It is nice to sit around, watching a video, passing the jar amongst a group of friends.  Or at least to have someone to talk to.  It seems to take less time if you are doing more than just shaking cream.  Keep shaking. Don't give up, the cream, very suddenly, seemingly in just a few shakes, will turn to...

This clumpy butter. The nice thing about letting the milk sit longer before shaking it is that there is less milk in the fat...thus less buttermilk leftover (real buttermilk isn't that stuff you buy in the store, its the stuff leftover after shaking the butter.) I don't drink the buttermilk, but you can. I try to cook with it.

With your hand you can remove the butter from the jar, then run it under cold water, while squeezing and kneading it until the water runs clear. Leaving milk in your butter will turn in rancid a little to quickly for my taste. I usually add salt (if I add salt) either after I cleaned it, or I knead it in right before.  I am not sure which is better.

After you have squeezed it clean, make a little cube.  Tah dah! 

My kid is smart.

I had been thinking about getting R a Crafty Kid Playhouse for Christmas or maybe her 5th birthday coming up.  They seemed cute, she would be able to color it, they are "eco-friendly" and they are made right here in the USA.  And she loves playhouses and forts.  As we were leaving a store the other day, I saw some by the door.  To gauge her interest, I was like, "Wow, that looks like fun, cardboard playhouses, and you get to color them yourself!"  Ramona glanced down and said, "We don't need that.  I have a playhouse in the yard, and we make houses with cardboard boxes inside."  And she walked right out the door.   Uh, derrr.  She is so logical sometimes (in a good way).  It is way more fun and crafty building ones own playhouse from old cardboard boxes (I'm glad we kept some from the move), and much more eco-friendly.  What was I thinking?

Me and My Kombucha

Recently, a mama from Hipmama offered up some Kombucha Mothers.  Kombucha is an effervecient fermented drink made from tea and sugar that has been used as a health elixer for thousands of years.  I had been tasting it here and there and decided this was a great opportunity.

Baby SCOBY (you can see mama SCOBY
sideways in a new batch of tea)

I responded to her post and she sent me a baby kombucha through the mail from New Jersey!  To clarify, the Kombucha SCOBY (Symbiotic Colony Of Bacteria and Yeasts) is often referred to as a “mother” because this is what makes the kombucha.  Every time that a new batch of kombucha is finished, a white (sometimes pinkish) baby SCOBY has formed on the top of the brew.  As soon as you remove the baby and put it in a fresh batch of tea and sugar, the baby effectively becomes a mother as well, and at the end of the brew you will have yet another baby that has formed on top.  Mothers tend to darken with age, as the tea stains them.

I store my kombucha in
used bottles from this store-
bought kombucha

So, I have been brewing kombucha for a month now, and drinking it daily.  It is purported to have a myriad of health benefits, especially for detoxing organs and basically just an all round disease (cancer) fighter.  I was interested to see what sort of effect it would have on my acne, since Chinese medicine has been telling me that my acne is linked to my “stomach ring” including organs such as pancreas, kidneys and liver.  I did a fair share of damage to my organs in my youth, and have been trying to figure ways to restore them. The liver, pancreas, kidneys, etc. help process what you eat, filter toxins, and produce hormones.  Hormonal imbalances are often tied to these cleansing organs.  Now, I almost always have acne cists under the skin around my chin and jawbone (the preferred location for hormonal acne) that I can always feel, though not necessarily see.  These have disappeared.  While I have had some superficial pimples, it seems that for the most part I am healthier and my skin is happier.

I start and end my day with Kombucha. drinking about 16 ounces of it a day.  Ramona has been drinking a few ounces here and there.  It is a little strong for her.

A quick search can give you several sites with various directions for brewing tea, so I will skip the step by step (but here is a great FAQ).  Many people will say you have to use black tea.  Not true, though black tea is a good basic starting place since it has all the nutrients the mother needs.  They also say you have to use white sugar; I have been using raw and unprocessed sugar from the bulk section just fine. I just make sure to add the sugar when the water is boiling to perhaps boil away any imputities or germs. I started off using a green tea mix, mint mélange from Trader Joes and Yogi Ginger Tea.  I later read that many of the herbs I was using are a no no for reasons of acid levels and mold.  However, I have been successful using some of the no no herbs, just not in excess.  However, I have started changing my brews to not include so much of the forbidden herbs...I am still working on my perfect brew.  I will check back when I find it.  Here is a great article about appropriate herbs to use. Also, black, white, and green tea and well as Yerba Mate work great. 

I must warn you though, sometimes they recommend adding a bit of vinegar to give the SCOBY some of the acidic environment it likes…don’’t use “live” or raw vinegar…this will interfere with the brew, and you will have a very vinegary Kombucha!

Sugar and tea bags, waiting for boiling water.

Not finding a good gallon jar for brewing, I have been using half gallon mason jars which work great.  I use three tea bags, reverse osmosis water, and just under a cup of sugar.  Since Kombucha likes to be kept between 70 and 85 degrees fahrenheit, and I am not going to keep my house that warm all winter, I invested $15 in a heating pad and keep it on low sideways between the bottles in the cupboard where I brew my Kombucha. 

I usually only fill it 1/3 of the way with hot water,
and add cold after I remove the teabags for
quicker cooling. Make sure to melt all the sugar
when adding the boiling water. 

I am addicted to the stuff.  It makes me happy and healthy. Let me know if you want a Kombucha baby, I would love to share the love.   

Mother just added to cooled tea/sugar.

Ready!  See the baby sitting pretty on top? 

Brewing in the cupboard over the stove.  I switched
from covering with kitchen towel to paper towels
cause I don't have enough kitchen towels and for
sanitary reasons. These are two deep and I slide the
heating pad right between them.