The Dark Side Beckons

Anyone (who hasn't heard me rave about this in person yet) know what this is?


Somewhere, as Thing 1 would say if she knew the story, there is a portrait of me in Birkenstocks, carrying a milking bucket away from my solar-powered dairy toward my kichen-which-has-no-plastic-products. She stood in the kitchen today, and said, "So, we are now raising bees, chickens, you knit, you make our bread and now. . . you're making yogurt?"

Yessiree bob, I am. And despite my Happy/Crazed Homesteader streak, I'm not making this because it's harder than buying it, oh, no. Somewhat like the polenta for lasagne noodles [I just typed "needles" -- I should clearly be knitting], it's really a trick to not run out of things.

One of our horrible local papers, the kind they keep throwing on your driveway even though you don't subscribe, and use words like "parakeet cage lining" and "execrable editing" to salespeople who call, actually ran an article on homemade yogurt.

They said it was easy. Since we consume about 4 quarts of maple yogurt a week with granola, it can add up. I figured giving it a try seemed reasonable.

So, I simmered a quart of whole organic milk into which I'd stirred in a bit of powdered milk for a few minutes, let it cool to 115 farenheit, stirred in a half cup of plain yogurt with active starter cultures that I'd tempered with some of the hot milk, covered it with plastic wrap, and stuck it in my oven for about 6 hours.

Ha. Yogurt. Who'd'a thunk it? Although when I factor in the cost of the real maple syrup I indulge my children with, it's probably not any cheaper. At least I won't have a jillion plastic quart containers clogging up my kitchen.

I have almost no knitting progress to show. I can't knit on the clockwork vest when I'm tired or distracted, so that means. . . never. The brownish sweater is bopping along nicely.

Later, more garden pictures. It's truly lovely right now.

Thing 2's soccer team got squashed last week. There's always one team, right? When my spouse was cheering up his players by saying, "It's not about winning, it's about enjoying yourself and playing well!" the other team had a parent who felt moved to chime in, "Yes it is all about winning." Tomorrow, they play Suzee's team. They're all new to the game, so it should be a very different Sunday.

So there, I guess.