The Smallest Steps

It was -10 this morning, so naturally I decided to fire up the smoke pit for the latest round of hams and bacons. By 7:30, in the aftermath of morning chores, I’d shoveled off the tin and laid bare the wire grate that supports the pits’ precious cargo. By 8:00, I’d kindled a pair of small fires (one at either end of the pit for maximum smoke production), and pulled three hogs worth of brined belly and ass through two feet of snow, the buckets of syrup-and-salt infused pork balanced precariously in the utility sled. I thought to have Penny take a picture; as an act of civic duty, I’d offer it to school districts nationwide, fodder with which to put the fear of god into underachieving students. See this? the administrators would say, holding the photo of my sorry pig-pulling self mere inches from their students’ self-satisfied noses. That’s what happens when you drop out of high school! Damn. Even if I sold the photos, it’d have to be cheaper than No Child Left Behind.

Alrighty. Just a little bookkeeping. I now have copies of The Nourishing Homestead in my possession, and if any of ya’ll would like a copy, I’d be more than pleased to sell you one from my personal stash. I can’t match Amazon’s price (I pay almost as much as Amazon sells them for), but I can offer to inscribe your book anywhichway you’d like. If you live in the US, I’ll include postage in the $30 cover price. Hit me up at the Generosity Enabler or, if you don’t do Paypal (and good on ya’), shoot me an email and we’ll make arrangements. Everyone who’s read the book thus far has been real complimentary, and I’d go so far as to say there’s a better than 50-50 chance you’ll like it.

Secondly, as you can see from the above poster, we’ve got a real fun workshop coming up, led by our amazing tool maker and blacksmithing friend Lucian Avery and spoon fanatic Andre Souligny. This is a great chance to familiarize (or refamiliarize) yourself with the fine art of knife sharpening, as well as the use of numerous traditional hand tools and wood working techniques. Come days end, you’ll walk away with a spoon of your very own making. As the supremely talented Alexander Yerks says “metal and plastic sort of set up a dull mood even before you take the first bite.”

I couldn’t agree more, and would only add that revolutions often begin with the smallest steps. Like making your own spoon.