In times like these, there is something to be said for self-dependence. This realization hit me upside the head two weeks ago, when I ran into town to do some grocery shopping. I didn't need much - just a few essentials, some ice cream, and perhaps a splurge here and there. In total, the groceries fit inside three bags. I could carry them to my vehicle in one hand. Thus, I balked when the total came to $75.
I guess my surprise was generated by the observation that 75 bucks seems like a lot of money, particularly when the items purchased were practically all necessities. I cannot imagine what it must be like to feed a family; some of you are probably laughing knowingly by now. Especially, if you are the woman who checked out ahead of me last summer. Her two shopping carts rung up a staggering total of over $500. I could practically own an airplane for what she needs to spend on her family.
In another separate incident, my wife arrived home with a similar story. She had stopped to pick up "a few essentials", and ended up breaking sixty bucks. When the astonishment wore off it dawned on us, why pay for anything? I grew up in the watchful eye of my dear old grandma, who could very famously make meals out of nothing. She lived on the farm, grew her own vegetables, and required only the bare necessities for cooking ingredients. Have things really changed that much over the course of two generations? Why should things be so different today?
In the brief time that has passed since the grocery incidences, my wife and I have decided to rely more on us, and our own means of production. I suppose I do have an unfair advantage - the white elephant in this argument is the fact that I operate a dairy farm. Less than two percent of the American population can say the same. With the dairy farm comes a readily available supply of milk and beef, two obvious essentials. During the summer months Ashley maintains a vegetable garden. Taking stock of our freezer, I rediscovered a bountiful supply of frozen carrots, beans, sweetcorn, and even preserved basil. In the root cellar of our house, she even had a store of squash. The farm continues to provide every cut of meat, including bulk hamburger, prime steaks, roasts, stew meat, ring bologna, cubed steak, and sausage. My neighbor raises hens, generating a reliable supply of eggs. What more should a family of two require? Certainly, the options were more appealing than fast food.
In yet another display of self-reliance, I fired up my great-grandfather's old cream separator. Suddenly, the possibilities were endless. I remember thinking, why buy anything? I spent one morning separating a batch of cream. My great-grandfather's old DeLaval worked perfectly, the plates clean and intact, the seals and gaskets still good. By comparison, what appliance could you possibly buy today, that will still work as efficiently and as intended, nearly a century from now? With the cream, I made two batches of homemade ice cream, Ashley churned a quart of butter, and I even had enough left to make crème brule. Not bad, considering the only ingredients we actually spent money on were sugar, salt, and vanilla.
The leftover milk was used to make yogurt. Interestingly, this is a product that requires only two ingredients, one of them being yogurt, as a starter (I won't tell you the other ingredient - it's a family secret). For dinner that evening, I thawed two ribeye steaks. Thus, with caramelized carrots and butternut squash as side dishes, steak as the main course, and ice cream for dessert, the only ingredients purchased were brown sugar, olive oil, seasonings, and wine. A delicious meal indeed, and a newfound sense of independence was born.
Speaking of which, today I saw a flock of Canadian geese flying north. Either they were lost, eh, or maybe it's a sign that winter is slowly drawing to a close. For the first time in months, I actually thought about a garden. I used to carry a sense of pity toward my grandma, and her comments about "hardly ever" going to the grocery store, and certainly never eating fast food.
Now, I feel a twinge of envy toward her, but I also realize that self-dependence need not be a commodity in short supply. In fact, I am excited at the prospect of growing and preserving our own vegetables, utilizing the milk and meat the farm provides, and having the ability to, even in the dead of winter, enjoy a world-class meal for mere pennies per plate. Yes, you read correctly - mere pennies. Take that, Rachel Ray.
In fact, I just realized - I have an abundant supply of water, I have the ability to grow barley, and I could probably figure out hops. All I really need, to be a stay-at-home trophy husband and never leave the house, is a supply of yeast. In such a scenario, there really isn't a need for me to ever visit the grocery store again.
Now there's food for thought.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
I guess my surprise was generated by the observation that 75 bucks seems like a lot of money, particularly when the items purchased were practically all necessities. I cannot imagine what it must be like to feed a family; some of you are probably laughing knowingly by now. Especially, if you are the woman who checked out ahead of me last summer. Her two shopping carts rung up a staggering total of over $500. I could practically own an airplane for what she needs to spend on her family.
In another separate incident, my wife arrived home with a similar story. She had stopped to pick up "a few essentials", and ended up breaking sixty bucks. When the astonishment wore off it dawned on us, why pay for anything? I grew up in the watchful eye of my dear old grandma, who could very famously make meals out of nothing. She lived on the farm, grew her own vegetables, and required only the bare necessities for cooking ingredients. Have things really changed that much over the course of two generations? Why should things be so different today?
In the brief time that has passed since the grocery incidences, my wife and I have decided to rely more on us, and our own means of production. I suppose I do have an unfair advantage - the white elephant in this argument is the fact that I operate a dairy farm. Less than two percent of the American population can say the same. With the dairy farm comes a readily available supply of milk and beef, two obvious essentials. During the summer months Ashley maintains a vegetable garden. Taking stock of our freezer, I rediscovered a bountiful supply of frozen carrots, beans, sweetcorn, and even preserved basil. In the root cellar of our house, she even had a store of squash. The farm continues to provide every cut of meat, including bulk hamburger, prime steaks, roasts, stew meat, ring bologna, cubed steak, and sausage. My neighbor raises hens, generating a reliable supply of eggs. What more should a family of two require? Certainly, the options were more appealing than fast food.
In yet another display of self-reliance, I fired up my great-grandfather's old cream separator. Suddenly, the possibilities were endless. I remember thinking, why buy anything? I spent one morning separating a batch of cream. My great-grandfather's old DeLaval worked perfectly, the plates clean and intact, the seals and gaskets still good. By comparison, what appliance could you possibly buy today, that will still work as efficiently and as intended, nearly a century from now? With the cream, I made two batches of homemade ice cream, Ashley churned a quart of butter, and I even had enough left to make crème brule. Not bad, considering the only ingredients we actually spent money on were sugar, salt, and vanilla.
The leftover milk was used to make yogurt. Interestingly, this is a product that requires only two ingredients, one of them being yogurt, as a starter (I won't tell you the other ingredient - it's a family secret). For dinner that evening, I thawed two ribeye steaks. Thus, with caramelized carrots and butternut squash as side dishes, steak as the main course, and ice cream for dessert, the only ingredients purchased were brown sugar, olive oil, seasonings, and wine. A delicious meal indeed, and a newfound sense of independence was born.
Speaking of which, today I saw a flock of Canadian geese flying north. Either they were lost, eh, or maybe it's a sign that winter is slowly drawing to a close. For the first time in months, I actually thought about a garden. I used to carry a sense of pity toward my grandma, and her comments about "hardly ever" going to the grocery store, and certainly never eating fast food.
Now, I feel a twinge of envy toward her, but I also realize that self-dependence need not be a commodity in short supply. In fact, I am excited at the prospect of growing and preserving our own vegetables, utilizing the milk and meat the farm provides, and having the ability to, even in the dead of winter, enjoy a world-class meal for mere pennies per plate. Yes, you read correctly - mere pennies. Take that, Rachel Ray.
In fact, I just realized - I have an abundant supply of water, I have the ability to grow barley, and I could probably figure out hops. All I really need, to be a stay-at-home trophy husband and never leave the house, is a supply of yeast. In such a scenario, there really isn't a need for me to ever visit the grocery store again.
Now there's food for thought.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
