I'm not a PTA Mom. Does that surprise you? Yeah, it doesn't really surprise anyone. I love my kids' school and volunteer there regularly, but I'm just not leadership material. I fall asleep in meetings, I'm bad at making tough decisions and I don't do politics, on any scale.
And so I look for other ways to contribute. This year I will not only be working at our school's annual plant sale, I'll be contributing goods for the sale. You know, seedlings, flowers, veggie starts, animal poop... did I lose you on that last one?
I'd been sort of marinating on this idea for a while now, but I hesitated to throw it out there, lest I sound like a complete yokel-dork. I mustered up the courage to ask the garden gals if they would be interested in my poo (words that I never thought I'd hear myself say, I assure you), and was very enthusiastically received by them. It was a nice feeling, knowing that I am not the only granola poo-coveter in town. You've heard me go on about it before, but allow me to remind you that critter poo, bunny poop in particular is magic. It's dry, it doesn't burn your plants, it has very little odor and the bunnies make it like it's going out of style.
Which is why, come Friday night, My friend Melinda and I will be filling and attempting to "jazz up" little bags of bunny, goat and chicken poop for sale on Saturday. I'm trying to think of some snappy wording for the bags. I've heard people refer to rabbit poop as "Bunny Marbles" or "Cocoa Puffs", but I'm looking for something more exciting and original. All Natural Doo Drops? Compost Thunder? Or in the case if goat poop, which looks exactly like a whole coffee bean, Magic Beans? Crappaccino?
I can't wait to see if my critter poo sells like hotcakes or just gets completely ignored. I certainly hope it goes well, lest I have to carry my unsold doodles back home in shame. It'd really be something if my doo revenue was enough to score something cool for the school gardens. You see that peach tree over there? Bought and paid for with goat turds, my friend!
Yes indeed, I may never be PTA Treasurer material, but I betcha a pitchfork that folks will remember the crazy crap peddling lady for years to come. And thus my legacy to the children of Olympia begins.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Today's the day! I think...
I've put it off for much too long now, milking day is here.
I'm trying to psych myself up for this ordeal and commitment by trying to downplay the fact that milking dairy animals every day without fail is an ordeal and commitment. I'm sure that someday I will find the whole process of miking my goats peaceful and fulfilling, as ancient poets and shepherds have written and sung of it throughout history, but at the moment it is still awkward and stressful for everyone involved. I'm clumsy, and my mama goats' patience runs thin with me mighty quickly. But regardless, it's go time.
Part of the source of my stress surrounding milking is the equipment issue. Do you have any idea how many odds and ends you need to properly, sanitarily extract and use your goat milk? Pails, strip cups, filters, brushes, washing water, a hanging milk scale, udder wipes, teat dip, etc., etc. It's a whole heck of a lot of stuff to haul up the hill and back, especially for a gravitationally-challenged gal like myself. One slip on that East Bay clay and I'm covered in milk, iodine and mud.
My means of mentally skirting the awkward equipment/fall hazard issue is to drive everything up the hill in the cart of our little tractor. Driving the tractor will also be a first for me. I'm about 5 miles out of my comfort zone right now.
Today, if I live to tell, shall be a real litmus test of my farm-girl skillz. If I don't get kicked in the head, end up wearing warm milk, crash a tractor or lose a limb, I'm going to chalk it up as a win.
I'm trying to psych myself up for this ordeal and commitment by trying to downplay the fact that milking dairy animals every day without fail is an ordeal and commitment. I'm sure that someday I will find the whole process of miking my goats peaceful and fulfilling, as ancient poets and shepherds have written and sung of it throughout history, but at the moment it is still awkward and stressful for everyone involved. I'm clumsy, and my mama goats' patience runs thin with me mighty quickly. But regardless, it's go time.
Part of the source of my stress surrounding milking is the equipment issue. Do you have any idea how many odds and ends you need to properly, sanitarily extract and use your goat milk? Pails, strip cups, filters, brushes, washing water, a hanging milk scale, udder wipes, teat dip, etc., etc. It's a whole heck of a lot of stuff to haul up the hill and back, especially for a gravitationally-challenged gal like myself. One slip on that East Bay clay and I'm covered in milk, iodine and mud.
My means of mentally skirting the awkward equipment/fall hazard issue is to drive everything up the hill in the cart of our little tractor. Driving the tractor will also be a first for me. I'm about 5 miles out of my comfort zone right now.
Today, if I live to tell, shall be a real litmus test of my farm-girl skillz. If I don't get kicked in the head, end up wearing warm milk, crash a tractor or lose a limb, I'm going to chalk it up as a win.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
We have a Farrrmerrr doon!
Sorry for the radio silence, I've been laid up this past week with a rousing case of dysentery that I can blame on either an incompetent food service worker or my chickens, the mystery remains.
The culprit was Campylobacter, and let me tell you, a week with this evil little bug in your belly is a fast and effective method for weight loss! And headaches, muscle pain, scorching fever... and lots of other little goodies who's descriptions I will spare you.
The lesson to be taken away from this little tango with toxins is -
A) Handle your food safely. Campylobacter bacteria, according to several sources I've read recently, can be found in upwards of 70% of grocery store chicken samples. So it's there already, and it's your job to kill it by cooking your meat thoroughly and by cleaning your kitchen surfaces and utensils adequately. Campylobacter is actually killed fairly easily, particularly by our stomach acid. But in folks like me, who take acid-reducing medication, the castle doors have essentially been flung wide open to receive the invaders.
B) Handle your livestock carefully. Most populations of live chickens (and other animals - cats, dogs, cattle, etc.) carry Campylobacter in their gut, and are asymptomatic. So even if they're not sick, they can still get you sick. We're pretty intense hand washers over here, but it only takes a few little bacteria to take you out.
I half-suspect that my infection came from caring for a sick little chick (who died of a bloody flux) in my home. I'm a softy. I couldn't leave her outside all by her poor lonesome to die, so we brought her in in a laundry basket and attempted to ply her with fresh grass and electrolyte-infused water to bring her back around to health, but it didn't work. Somewhere during the process, I must have inhaled or swallowed a bacteria, and that was that.
Here we are a week later, and I'm still recovering. The muscle pain, headache and cramps were like nothing I've ever felt before in my life! The doc told me that the toxins were in my blood, muscles and even the tissue surrounding my brain, which is why they had to give me a blue whale-sized dose of dilaudid to knock me out.
I'd long known that the perils of farming are many, but hadn't thought to include among them bacterial assassination attempts. I always figured that when something happened to me, it'd be more like me chopping off a toe with an ax, or having my nose broken by a flying goat hoof, but I guess you can't plan these things. All in good time, all in good time....
The culprit was Campylobacter, and let me tell you, a week with this evil little bug in your belly is a fast and effective method for weight loss! And headaches, muscle pain, scorching fever... and lots of other little goodies who's descriptions I will spare you.
The lesson to be taken away from this little tango with toxins is -
A) Handle your food safely. Campylobacter bacteria, according to several sources I've read recently, can be found in upwards of 70% of grocery store chicken samples. So it's there already, and it's your job to kill it by cooking your meat thoroughly and by cleaning your kitchen surfaces and utensils adequately. Campylobacter is actually killed fairly easily, particularly by our stomach acid. But in folks like me, who take acid-reducing medication, the castle doors have essentially been flung wide open to receive the invaders.
B) Handle your livestock carefully. Most populations of live chickens (and other animals - cats, dogs, cattle, etc.) carry Campylobacter in their gut, and are asymptomatic. So even if they're not sick, they can still get you sick. We're pretty intense hand washers over here, but it only takes a few little bacteria to take you out.
I half-suspect that my infection came from caring for a sick little chick (who died of a bloody flux) in my home. I'm a softy. I couldn't leave her outside all by her poor lonesome to die, so we brought her in in a laundry basket and attempted to ply her with fresh grass and electrolyte-infused water to bring her back around to health, but it didn't work. Somewhere during the process, I must have inhaled or swallowed a bacteria, and that was that.
Here we are a week later, and I'm still recovering. The muscle pain, headache and cramps were like nothing I've ever felt before in my life! The doc told me that the toxins were in my blood, muscles and even the tissue surrounding my brain, which is why they had to give me a blue whale-sized dose of dilaudid to knock me out.
I'd long known that the perils of farming are many, but hadn't thought to include among them bacterial assassination attempts. I always figured that when something happened to me, it'd be more like me chopping off a toe with an ax, or having my nose broken by a flying goat hoof, but I guess you can't plan these things. All in good time, all in good time....
Monday, March 28, 2011
Foods that Fight Back - Foraging for Stinging Nettles
I like to forage for food. Dandelions, berries, mushrooms, you name it, I love to go out and get it. I mean, what's not to love about it? A walk in the woods, accompanied by birdsong, collecting the freshest, most wholesome foods available, all for free. I had been meaning to add stinging nettles to my foraging repertoire for years now, but always managed to somehow miss my opportunity. This year, I finally made it!
This past Sunday I went nettle picking with my beautiful and nature-knowledgeable friend, Kristin, just about a mile from my house. She is a more experienced forager than I, and showed me the ropes of picking stinging nettles. First of all, the window for picking them, like most other wild foods, is fairly small. They are one of the first shoots to pop up in Spring, and transition from tender stalk and leaves to fibrous and inedible giants in the space of a few weeks to a month. Secondly, the nettles, even with their smarting sting, are actually very fragile plants, and need to be harvested with care. The idea that these fierce looking little greens, the sworn enemy of my woodland wandering youth, were in fact delicate and easily killed came as quite the surprise to me. I had not thought of them as anything more than a nuisance, up to now, and as is often the way of nuisances, assumed that they were likely impossible to be rid of. Not so! When harvesting, the general rule of thumb is to pinch or cut just the top few leaves of the plant, taking no more than 4 inches at most (we took about 2 inches), and not pulling on the plants, as they are very shallowly rooted. If you're kind and gentle to the plants, they'll be there for you to harvest your little bit, year after year.
Another obvious fact of stinging nettle collection is that you need to dress appropriately for the occasion. Wear long sleeves, long pants and gloves, and prepare to get stung a time or twelve anyway. The stings aren't really that bad. To me they felt like more of a tingling/foot gone to sleep sort of sensation that lasted for about 24 hours. It's a small price to pay for a heap of free "superfood".
Here in Western Washington, stinging nettles are virtually ubiquitous in our damp and shady woodlands, so it didn't take us long to score enough nettles to fill our bags. In fact, it took less than an hour of wandering through the woods and shooting the breeze with my homegirl for me to gather twelve ounces of nettle tops. Not bad for a morning out in the fresh air!
After bringing my haul of fresh greens home, I set about blanching them. Blanching is one of the two methods used for removing the nettle's sting, the other is drying. I blanched my nettles in boiling, unsalted water for about a minute, then scooped them out and set them to drain thoroughly in a mesh colander set over a bowl. Note that I didn't drain my nettles, and that I went out of my way to save the water that they were blanched in, which was essentially nettle tea. I had every intention of drinking this liquid or saving it as a broth, that is before I found half a dozen poached baby slugs in my pot. They basically shot to the surface within seconds of the greens going in, and were fished out right quick, before the greens had finished blanching, but something about trying to drink tea, laced however lightly with baby slug slime, just wasn't going to work for me. And so, my nettle tea was re-purposed as the liquid in my goats' evening ration of beet pulp. It's supposed to be good for pregnant and nursing mothers, and we have them in spades, so I gave it a go. The goats ate the nettle-y beet pulp as eagerly as ever, and likely scored a few extra vitamins and minerals from it as well. Waste not, want not!
I proceeded to use my freshly blanched, chopped nettles over the next two days in a pesto recipe, as a seasonally fresh alternative to basil, and in some homemade egg noodles, in place of spinach. Both turned out wonderfully and had a fresh, green flavor nearly indistinguishable from fresh-cooked spinach. My twelve ounces of stems and leaves made four dinners worth of pesto, with about 1/4 cup of plain cooked nettles left over to add to my egg noodle dough and eventually, my chicken soup. My noodle and pesto recipes can be found here. For even more nettle recipes, including the one upon which I based my nettle pesto, check out Langdon Cook's Fat of the Land blog. Langdon is a fellow Pacific Northwesterner and a forager extraordinaire. If I can't convince you to get out there and grab your free food, reading his blog is sure to seduce you into trying the food-nerd-meets-nature-nut way of living.
For more info on foraging for stinging nettles and their uses and benefits, check out the following websites:
General Info on Stinging Nettle, Urtica Dioica
More general info on growing, harvesting and using nettles.
The medicinal benefits of Singing Nettles, eHow.com
Recipes using stinging nettle -
Pasta with Nettles, Sorrel & Lemon
Nettle Gnocchi
Nettle Pesto
This past Sunday I went nettle picking with my beautiful and nature-knowledgeable friend, Kristin, just about a mile from my house. She is a more experienced forager than I, and showed me the ropes of picking stinging nettles. First of all, the window for picking them, like most other wild foods, is fairly small. They are one of the first shoots to pop up in Spring, and transition from tender stalk and leaves to fibrous and inedible giants in the space of a few weeks to a month. Secondly, the nettles, even with their smarting sting, are actually very fragile plants, and need to be harvested with care. The idea that these fierce looking little greens, the sworn enemy of my woodland wandering youth, were in fact delicate and easily killed came as quite the surprise to me. I had not thought of them as anything more than a nuisance, up to now, and as is often the way of nuisances, assumed that they were likely impossible to be rid of. Not so! When harvesting, the general rule of thumb is to pinch or cut just the top few leaves of the plant, taking no more than 4 inches at most (we took about 2 inches), and not pulling on the plants, as they are very shallowly rooted. If you're kind and gentle to the plants, they'll be there for you to harvest your little bit, year after year.
Another obvious fact of stinging nettle collection is that you need to dress appropriately for the occasion. Wear long sleeves, long pants and gloves, and prepare to get stung a time or twelve anyway. The stings aren't really that bad. To me they felt like more of a tingling/foot gone to sleep sort of sensation that lasted for about 24 hours. It's a small price to pay for a heap of free "superfood".
Here in Western Washington, stinging nettles are virtually ubiquitous in our damp and shady woodlands, so it didn't take us long to score enough nettles to fill our bags. In fact, it took less than an hour of wandering through the woods and shooting the breeze with my homegirl for me to gather twelve ounces of nettle tops. Not bad for a morning out in the fresh air!
After bringing my haul of fresh greens home, I set about blanching them. Blanching is one of the two methods used for removing the nettle's sting, the other is drying. I blanched my nettles in boiling, unsalted water for about a minute, then scooped them out and set them to drain thoroughly in a mesh colander set over a bowl. Note that I didn't drain my nettles, and that I went out of my way to save the water that they were blanched in, which was essentially nettle tea. I had every intention of drinking this liquid or saving it as a broth, that is before I found half a dozen poached baby slugs in my pot. They basically shot to the surface within seconds of the greens going in, and were fished out right quick, before the greens had finished blanching, but something about trying to drink tea, laced however lightly with baby slug slime, just wasn't going to work for me. And so, my nettle tea was re-purposed as the liquid in my goats' evening ration of beet pulp. It's supposed to be good for pregnant and nursing mothers, and we have them in spades, so I gave it a go. The goats ate the nettle-y beet pulp as eagerly as ever, and likely scored a few extra vitamins and minerals from it as well. Waste not, want not!
I proceeded to use my freshly blanched, chopped nettles over the next two days in a pesto recipe, as a seasonally fresh alternative to basil, and in some homemade egg noodles, in place of spinach. Both turned out wonderfully and had a fresh, green flavor nearly indistinguishable from fresh-cooked spinach. My twelve ounces of stems and leaves made four dinners worth of pesto, with about 1/4 cup of plain cooked nettles left over to add to my egg noodle dough and eventually, my chicken soup. My noodle and pesto recipes can be found here. For even more nettle recipes, including the one upon which I based my nettle pesto, check out Langdon Cook's Fat of the Land blog. Langdon is a fellow Pacific Northwesterner and a forager extraordinaire. If I can't convince you to get out there and grab your free food, reading his blog is sure to seduce you into trying the food-nerd-meets-nature-nut way of living.
For more info on foraging for stinging nettles and their uses and benefits, check out the following websites:
General Info on Stinging Nettle, Urtica Dioica
More general info on growing, harvesting and using nettles.
The medicinal benefits of Singing Nettles, eHow.com
Recipes using stinging nettle -
Pasta with Nettles, Sorrel & Lemon
Nettle Gnocchi
Nettle Pesto
Recipe: Stinging Nettle Pesto & Nettle Egg Noodles
I don't tend to post too many recipes on this blog for an assortment of reasons, the main one being that I am a slacker - writing up a recipe is hard for a lazybones like me. It certainly doesn't help that I'm somewhat of a lax cook as well; I almost never measure ingredients, and I add and tweak right up until the food hits the plate. I throw in odd bits of this and that as the spirit moves me, and therefore, A) never make anything exactly the same way twice (which cuts both ways, I assure you) and B) have a hard time putting my ingredients and methods into words that make sense.
But I had to post these recipes because they are not only earth-muffiny as all get out (thumbs up!), but are also great tasting and relatively easy to make. Let's cook with nettles!
My first go with harvesting and cooking nettles had me making a fresh nettle pesto. The recipe that I used was from Fat of the Land. The original recipe can be viewed here. The following recipe is my twist on the FOTL recipe.
Stinging Nettle Pesto
-2 cups (cooked) blanched and drained stinging nettles, squeezed-dry and chopped well (about 6 cups raw)
-1/2 cup +/- of Parmesan cheese
-1/2 cup raw, unsalted walnuts
-5 or 6 large garlic cloves, peeled
-1/2 cup +/- olive oil (I usually go for more. Nothing worse than a pasty dry pesto!)
-Fresh squeezed juice from 1 lemon (2 or 3 tbsps worth, I'd guesstimate)
-Salt & Pepper to taste
Just like any other pesto, you basically just pop everything into the food processor and whiz it up to your preferred consistency, adding additional oil and seasonings as you deem appropriate. (If you didn't take to heart my earlier disclaimer about not being a recipe writer, consider the proceeding recipe "Exhibit A". I hope that you'll try it anyway!)
Our second night of cooking with nettles had them in a less highlighted role, as the "spinach" in my homemade egg noodles. If you have a homemade pasta recipe that you like, simply add about 1/4 cup of blanched, squeezed dry, finely chopped nettles to your dough during the initial kneading and mix through well. Boom. That's it. If you're still game to try one of my recipes, well here you go:
Nettle Egg Noodles
-3 cups flour (plus extra for rolling out)
-2 whole eggs
-4 egg yolks
-2 tsps salt
-2-3 tbsps water
-1/4 cup blanched, well drained, chopped stinging nettles
Start with your flour and salt in a large mixing bowl. Make a well in the middle for your eggs & yolks. Gentle scramble the eggs with a fork, slowly beginning to incorporate the flour/salt mixture. Once the eggs and dry ingredients are well mixed, begin adding water in small increments, kneading and squeezing the dough together after each addition. Continue adding water as needed to the dough to reach your desired consistency. Now it's time to fold in the nettles. Knead them into the dough well, until the are mixed evenly throughout. Allow the dough to rest for 10 or 15 minutes before rolling out.
If you're lucky, you have an eager helper, just waiting to make a mess of your kitchen for you. Mine's named Scarlet.
This represents about 1/2 of the noodles produced. The rest went into our chicken soup.
Mmm, Mmm, Good!
The girls gobbled this up, not in spite of the nettles, but rather (at least in part) because of the nettles. They thought that it was pretty cool to eat something so "scary". Having them help with the preparation always demystifies new foods a little too. They always have seconds when they're the sous chef. ;)
They weren't the only ones pleased with these recipes. In fact, I want to get back out there and pick some more nettles while the getting is still good. I want to make some nettle tea. Nettles are purported to have numerous health benefits, including anti-inflammatory and anti-histamine properties and are said to also be helpful in the relief of symptoms of osteoarthritis. They also pack a ton of vitamins A & C, and according to various sources, when consumed as a whole (not in tea form), contain anywhere from 10-40% protein, the second highest plant source, next to hemp.
So this is me, encouraging you to expand your food horizons. Give wild food a try! The satisfaction of foraging your own is parallel to that of growing your own, without having to hoe a single row or live in fear of locusts or late blight. Mother Nature sweats the details, all you have to do is get out there and pick. ;)
But I had to post these recipes because they are not only earth-muffiny as all get out (thumbs up!), but are also great tasting and relatively easy to make. Let's cook with nettles!
My first go with harvesting and cooking nettles had me making a fresh nettle pesto. The recipe that I used was from Fat of the Land. The original recipe can be viewed here. The following recipe is my twist on the FOTL recipe.
Stinging Nettle Pesto
-2 cups (cooked) blanched and drained stinging nettles, squeezed-dry and chopped well (about 6 cups raw)
-1/2 cup +/- of Parmesan cheese
-1/2 cup raw, unsalted walnuts
-5 or 6 large garlic cloves, peeled
-1/2 cup +/- olive oil (I usually go for more. Nothing worse than a pasty dry pesto!)
-Fresh squeezed juice from 1 lemon (2 or 3 tbsps worth, I'd guesstimate)
-Salt & Pepper to taste
Just like any other pesto, you basically just pop everything into the food processor and whiz it up to your preferred consistency, adding additional oil and seasonings as you deem appropriate. (If you didn't take to heart my earlier disclaimer about not being a recipe writer, consider the proceeding recipe "Exhibit A". I hope that you'll try it anyway!)
Our second night of cooking with nettles had them in a less highlighted role, as the "spinach" in my homemade egg noodles. If you have a homemade pasta recipe that you like, simply add about 1/4 cup of blanched, squeezed dry, finely chopped nettles to your dough during the initial kneading and mix through well. Boom. That's it. If you're still game to try one of my recipes, well here you go:
Nettle Egg Noodles
-3 cups flour (plus extra for rolling out)
-2 whole eggs
-4 egg yolks
-2 tsps salt
-2-3 tbsps water
-1/4 cup blanched, well drained, chopped stinging nettles
Start with your flour and salt in a large mixing bowl. Make a well in the middle for your eggs & yolks. Gentle scramble the eggs with a fork, slowly beginning to incorporate the flour/salt mixture. Once the eggs and dry ingredients are well mixed, begin adding water in small increments, kneading and squeezing the dough together after each addition. Continue adding water as needed to the dough to reach your desired consistency. Now it's time to fold in the nettles. Knead them into the dough well, until the are mixed evenly throughout. Allow the dough to rest for 10 or 15 minutes before rolling out.
If you're lucky, you have an eager helper, just waiting to make a mess of your kitchen for you. Mine's named Scarlet.
This represents about 1/2 of the noodles produced. The rest went into our chicken soup.
Mmm, Mmm, Good!
The girls gobbled this up, not in spite of the nettles, but rather (at least in part) because of the nettles. They thought that it was pretty cool to eat something so "scary". Having them help with the preparation always demystifies new foods a little too. They always have seconds when they're the sous chef. ;)
They weren't the only ones pleased with these recipes. In fact, I want to get back out there and pick some more nettles while the getting is still good. I want to make some nettle tea. Nettles are purported to have numerous health benefits, including anti-inflammatory and anti-histamine properties and are said to also be helpful in the relief of symptoms of osteoarthritis. They also pack a ton of vitamins A & C, and according to various sources, when consumed as a whole (not in tea form), contain anywhere from 10-40% protein, the second highest plant source, next to hemp.
So this is me, encouraging you to expand your food horizons. Give wild food a try! The satisfaction of foraging your own is parallel to that of growing your own, without having to hoe a single row or live in fear of locusts or late blight. Mother Nature sweats the details, all you have to do is get out there and pick. ;)
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Only in Washington State...
...does the first sunny, 60 degree day after 5 months of rain make a child say "Ugh! I gotta get out of this heat!"
Them's my Western Washington girls, alright. ;)
All geared up for last months Great Backyard Bird Count
Them's my Western Washington girls, alright. ;)
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
Spring is here! YEESSSSS! Which means that this is the point at which I jump into action and start digging holes and planting seeds like Johnny Appleseed on crack, right? My spirit is on board, my body is trying.
If you've read either of my blogs much, you are probably well aware that a) I have a few annoying health issues and b) That I never hesitate to whine about them. Well this year has been harder than most, and I think that I've finally figured out why. I believe that I may be struggling with Fibromyalgia.
A friend was recently diagnosed, and I, basically completely ignorant of the condition, decided to learn more about it. The list of symptoms was like a point-by-point list of my complaints. Trouble sleeping; arthritis; generalized, for-no-good-reason muscle pains; etc. It's one of those moments where relief and worry slam together. But at least I have an idea about what this is and how I might make it better. Putting a name to the problem is a huge first step. I'm going to talk to my doctor about an official diagnosis and explore which therapies and meds might help me to regain control of my flagging body. But in the mean time, I'm trying like hell to push through. My husband, Bill, has been amazing. He works full time plus, then comes home to wrangle kids and critters, check homework and even cook dinner on those days where I'm really struggling.
I'm determined to get back out there and pull my own weight again though; so here's to a new season and turning a corner. I might move slower and swear under my breath (or right out loud) while doing it, but I'm gonna get out there and play in the dirt anyway.
If you've read either of my blogs much, you are probably well aware that a) I have a few annoying health issues and b) That I never hesitate to whine about them. Well this year has been harder than most, and I think that I've finally figured out why. I believe that I may be struggling with Fibromyalgia.
A friend was recently diagnosed, and I, basically completely ignorant of the condition, decided to learn more about it. The list of symptoms was like a point-by-point list of my complaints. Trouble sleeping; arthritis; generalized, for-no-good-reason muscle pains; etc. It's one of those moments where relief and worry slam together. But at least I have an idea about what this is and how I might make it better. Putting a name to the problem is a huge first step. I'm going to talk to my doctor about an official diagnosis and explore which therapies and meds might help me to regain control of my flagging body. But in the mean time, I'm trying like hell to push through. My husband, Bill, has been amazing. He works full time plus, then comes home to wrangle kids and critters, check homework and even cook dinner on those days where I'm really struggling.
I'm determined to get back out there and pull my own weight again though; so here's to a new season and turning a corner. I might move slower and swear under my breath (or right out loud) while doing it, but I'm gonna get out there and play in the dirt anyway.
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