Green Options

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My day never begins with a leisurely breakfast in bed. Likely because my spouse is not a morning person, and the only other morning person around is under four, and she wakes me up daily before seven. However, the Kiddo makes some tasty scrambled eggs as long as I do the stove part and raw egg part. And, I have my hopes up for the years to come.

In the meantime, I will share a few favorite breakfast dishes that you moms could, say, print out, circle in great big red ink, and leave out on the counter just before hanging the “Do Not Disturb Until 9:30, or My Breakfast is Ready” sign on the bedroom door. I will live vicariously through you.

Best French Toast Ever, Shirred Eggs, and Breakfast Panini recipes after the jump.

© Mtomczak | Dreamstime.com

While accompanying me on a trip to the more scary storage area of our house, my three-year-old spied an old “yard art” statue of a Rottweiler that belonged to my spouse. (The movers would not accept a bribe to, uh, lose a few items during the move).

Later that evening, she remarked to my husband, “Daddy, we need a real dog, not a plastic dog.” Between this plea and having to stop and ask to pet every, every, single dog we encounter in public, I set about the task of getting my spouse to agree to add a new member to the family.

It was not easy. He was heartbroken after losing his last dog, and pretty set against a puppy. This does not mean no — it just means choosing your moment wisely.

“Oh, I’ve got a dog for you. Chocolate Lab. I’ll spay her and everything,” my brother, a vet, offered. We were out for a family dinner. My husband was deep into his second beer. I gauged my opportunity. The moment looked right, or my husband looked a bit drunk. Either way, works for me.

Now, you would think on the first weekend of May, we would not be shivering from cold while we gathered fresh produce at the market, but its been a different season here, and weeks in, we are still lagging in temperatures and abundance. I keep hoping for a beautiful spring day to enjoy outside at the market, and well, I am still hoping.

In the meantime, we dress warm and console ourselves with purple and green asparagus, arugula, spring onions, herbs, lettuces and spinach.

Around the country, other markets are filled with spring’s freshest. Entries for this week’s Farmers Market Fare after the jump.

The Pew Commission on Industrial Farm Animal Production, a two-and-a-half year long study by a non-profit organization, calls for urgent and major reform of confined animal operations.

“One of the most serious unintended consequences of industrial food animal production is the growing public health threat of these types of facilities,” the report said. “There is increasing urgency to chart a new course” in agriculture, which has been shifting over the last 50 years from family farms to large livestock meat producers.”

The studies primary focus assessed four areas of impact by industrial farms:

Impact on public healthy by overuse of antibiotics on food animals, primarily the development of antibiotic-resistant strains of bacteria
Impact on the environment from animal waste
The need for humane treatment of animals
The impact on family farms from lack of competition and the consolidation of the agribusiness entities

Headlines from today’s White House press conference included a quote from President Bush encouraging Americans to eat local. It caught me a bit off guard.

Putting the comment back into context, however, there are a few problems with the logic of this suggestion, and not just that he, Bush, was the creator of the “eat local” concept.

The statement was made in response to a question on the relationship between ethanol and food price increases: (quote from press conference after the jump).

For the first trip this spring, my local market has finally got some vegetables! It was a cold start to the season, still is with a frost due tonight, but oh, the purple asparagus arrived, and the spring lettuces and spinach. Finally.

I was also contemplating urban sprawl, more suburban sprawl today. The suburban city I live in basically just decided to take over about 15 miles south — without the vote of the citizens there. This was all farms, rolling pasture, beautiful land. You can see the future in the photo here with the brand new McMansions crowding a small farm out. All around this place are strip malls and subdivisions. How many strip malls do we really need? Or better yet, how do you get local food if there are no local farms?

That in mind, this week’s carnival entries follow.

Earth Day is nearly past, but there’s a few minutes left to just have a laugh after a day of celebration. I’m about to share my double-secret mom tricks. Now, keep these to just us parents, right?

Now and then, we parents have to be creative. Someday, if our kids are lucky, we’ll share these secrets when they have kids of their own. Maybe. Or maybe we’ll just have a bit of a laugh first then let them in on it. (fun after the jump).

Wow, has it already been three weeks? Amazing. This week’s quote is part of a larger, must-read Wendell Berry essay, “The Pleasures of Eating.”

“It is possible then, to be liberated from the husbandry and wifery of the old household food economy. But one can be thus liberated only by entering a trap. The trap is the ideal of industrialism: a walled city surrounded by valves that let merchandise in but no consciousness out. How does one escape this trap? Only voluntarily, the same way that one went in: by restoring one’s consciousness of what is involved in eating; by reclaiming responsibility for one’s own part in the food economy.”

Entries after the jump.

If you think of any major holiday, nearly the first thing that pops into your head is food. Okay, well, maybe right after “Christmas is in a week?! I haven’t gotten anything done yet!” Then, it’s all about food. Or, at least it is for me.

So, in the tradition of your Thanksgiving table, holiday feast and Easter eggs … why not an Earth Dinner? It’s simple, just make your meal on Earth Day a table […]

© James Steidl | Dreamstime.com

As I am trying to sleep, somewhere in the house I hear water running. And it bugs me. It always has. Perhaps it was my childhood of growing up rural on a well system. During the dry summers, the entire family would have to go into conservation mode. I learned early about the “Navy” shower; get in, get wet regardless of water temperature, turn off water, soap up, quick rinse and go. I also learned not to leave the water running while brushing my teeth, and the more contentious practice of “if it’s yellow…” you know the rest.

These things prepared me well for my brief expatriate days on arid Caribbean islands. I adapted easily to the idea that you can’t drink from the tap, flush every time, or enjoy a long shower. In fact, we were only allowed one, ice-cold Navy shower a week. Thank goodness we spent a lot of time in the ocean.

This is not, however, the common experience for an American suburbanite. So, I spend a lot of time listening to the water running and thinking of ways to resolve my worries.