My New Purse

My cat peed on my purse a few weeks ago. Since my tom cat, Ash died, our two intact females have been drawing a lot of attention from the other tom's who were previously not allowed to step foot in our yard. Even though our two females never venture outside, they howl and mark their territory every time they go into heat. We have found surprises on the floor, in laundry baskets of dirty clothes and baskets of clean clothes and my personal favourite IN MY SHOES!

We had our kitten's fixed a few days ago but not before they claimed their latest victim...my purse! I have been looking for a nice messenger bag style purse, something a little larger than my previous one. With two kids with water bottles, crayons, bandaids, snacks and of course my wallet I need lots of room.

So I made this one....





I like how the straps are tied at the top which I can make long or short depending, I like that I could choose my fabric, my colours and style. I also liked that it cost me less than $5 when the cheapest store bought one I found that I liked was $24.

The Genreal Store

I am constantly amazed at how far we have veered from our origins. There was a time in our history, and not so distant history, when people knew the owners of the shops and the workers behind the counter. There was a time when if you bought something and it was defective you could bring it back no questions asked because the person who you bought it from remembered you. Such service would be hard to find these days and so it is always something worth noticing.

On my way home from my spinning guild meeting, I stopped at a farm stand to buy corn and check out some of their other locally grown produce. I ended up leaving with 5lbs of potatoes, a couple green peppers and a dozen ears of corn. As I was searching, a teen-aged girl offer to keep my peppers near the register until I was ready. Then when I picked out my potatoes, both her and her younger sister where there ready with a bag to put my potatoes in. They laughed at their readiness but I thanked them warmly. It is not everyday you find such great service and I walked away knowing I would be back.

I have always wondered, when leaving a big box or smaller chain store, how difficult it would be for the person behind the counter to just smile. I don't care about having a meaningful conversation or even any kind of conversation at all but it would be nice to feel like my presence in the store is something less than a burden. I always leave those bigger stores with a 'how dare I' feeling, like I should have just stayed home so these workers would not have to serve me.

At this farm stand, I felt the complete opposite. They were happy to see me, glad for my business, why I might go so far as calling them grateful. Yes, that's it! Grateful. The young ladies working at this stand felt a greater connection to their family's livelihood. That connection, the no middleman approach, promotes true emotions and feelings where often in our day and age there is none.

These true, deliberate encounters that happen every day along road sides and at farmers markets, or even online (from small businesses) are coming back in vogue. We are craving these face to face, name to name exchanges. And who can blame us, after so many years of big business calling all the shots, we've realized that we wanted something more. Patronizing family businesses, local farmers and people we know is one simple way every one can choose the live more consciously.

In a Pickle

Not much goes into pickles. You need pickling cucumbers, some spices, vinegar and water. Oh yes the water... I made a mistake on that one since I hadn't read the directions clearly enough to realise only soft water would do. By the time I had read this it was too late and I was already reeking with dill. Apparently hard water makes the liquid in jars darken and do not make the best pickle. While trying to figure out if I should start over, I asked my husband, "Well what would the pioneers have used?" Of course they would have used hard water since most well water is hard water. So I plunged ahead.

I bought my pickling cucumbers at the market that morning from a lovely stand that gave my daughter a gooseberry. It was like a grape she said, only mushier. I will have to patronize them more often.



This year I used the Bernardin dill pickle mix, since it was my first time making pickles. Next year I will make my spice water from scratch. Of course since I was using a mix, I ran out of spice water before I ran out of cucumbers. I guess my conservative estimate of 5lbs a basket was not quite so conservative. In steps my amazing neighbour who happened to stop by moments before. Mix box in hand, she went to the store for me. I was planning to give her some jars anyway but her help sealed the deal.

Surprisingly, pickles are fairly easy. I read both the instructions in the box and the ones in my book looking for the way in which I cook the cucumbers. Turns out you don't, the spice water reacts with the cucumbers making them soak up the spice and soften. With no long cooking times like with jam, pickles are an easy starter for anyone looking for a way in with the canning world.

We tried some tonight, some thin slices on our burgers. My son, a picky pickle eater was the first to try. I knew I had met approval when he started groaning loudly as he chewed... you know the kind of groan that means absolute delight. I was so pleased.