Rebuild from Depression Blog

We have are returned from a six-day trip to Southern California, a trip to escape some of the smokiest air I have had to live in. In the past week, our little area of the Sequoia National Forest has seen four small fires. We also have on-going smoke from the Clover Fire to the east in the high Sierra. The first fire was just 2 miles away and inspired our departure. Another struck while we were gone. The third and fourth fires hit as we were returning home. ( The fourth was actually itty-bitty and for those who follow milk shenanigans on this website might find it interesting trivia that the fourth fire was on the property where the Vander Eyk heifers graze in the winter.)

The trip was a great escape for me. Before this trip, I had only left the forest on three one-day trips. I was stir crazy (but without a lot of energy). As it turned out, I spent my days in Southern California much like I do here: resting and doing data analysis. I did manage one movie and one trip to the outlet mall because that's what I hear city people do. I also needed shoes. Who knew shoes could cause a mid-life crisis. Read on for fire and shoe pictures.

Our family orchard has three trees that are already bearing fruit. I look forward to the fruit but I do not look forward to fighting the birds for the fruit. I don't mind sharing but birds have a way of clearing a tree. We have gone to great trouble to net our trees. but fussing with each free net is not my idea of entertainment. In fact, we could not face the nets this year.

As our cherries began to ripen and I wondered how many we would actually eat, our friend Gerry happened by one day and discussed her orchard in the context of sampling her apricot jam. She mentioned casually, "I save those plastic bags from the grocery store and tie them to the tree limbs. They scare the birds away!"

The sun had not set that day when I noticed our cheery tree cluttered with plastic grocery bags.

That was a few weeks ago and I have made it my duty to spend at least 10 minutes with that tree every day enjoying those cherries. I look forward to the nectarines and plums.

The garden has had a slow start this summer, but we have had an abundant and welcome collection of volunteer purslane. Many people refer to purslane by its more common name, "weed." Purslane, however, is a great vegetable source of omega-3 fatty acids, the alpha linoleic acid form. Omega-3 fatty acids build our brains; clinical trials have shown them to be effective in fighting depression. Packaged as purslane, omega-3 fatty acids also make a great stir fry. We fried some up with a small zucchini and yellow crookneck, the first bit of produce from our garden. I highly recommend purslane and you can find it literally anywhere -- even growing out of the cracks in your sidewalk. (It is that sprawling weed in the picture above.) According to a recent New York Times Magazine article (also discussed at The Ethicurean), these weeds could be the food of the future with climate change.

In the midst of a summer yard clean-up and forest fire watches, our Victory Garden has slowly begun to provide us with summer squash and peppers. The orchard has provided cherries and early apples so far (read about how to keep the birds from eating your fruit). We wondered if the produce was in jeopardy yesterday when we awoke to the sound of helicopters at dawn. My mom and I were headed to civilization to shop for clothing to cover a pregnant belly and as we left we saw the helicopter carrying a bucket from a point about a mile away to some more distant spot in the forest. I pointed it out to my husband.

"Sander, I want pictures but don't be a hero. If the ask you to evacuate, just evacuate."

Those helicopters are usually dropping a red powder fire retardant on fires but we saw no smoke. We wondered how the situation would progress as we were gone.

When we returned to a blue sky we knew that our Victory Garden was safe from fire and stopped at the local post office for a report. It turns out that the whole affair was related to gardening after all. The four gardeners tending their crop left on foot as law enforcement moved their garden bounty out by helicopter. Three gardeners were still on foot yesterday evening, adding to the excitement in this community. If they showed up here, we planned to show them our own victory garden, far less exciting but more nourishing. Getting caught with our sort requires no jail time.

Our Victory Garden, then, has lived another day and should be in peak production in about three weeks. In eleven days from now at least 150 people will be joining us on our property for the wedding of a friend, so it is convenient for us that the garden has decided to wait until after the event to help us fill our freezer. Until the bounty (and in a very busy season of wedding preparation), one of our favorite recipes for the summer harvest is roasted vegetables. Last fall my mom posted a video about roasted peppers, a technique that can be used for summer squash as well. For the freezer and pantry, we plan a number of casseroles, eggplant stuffed with ricotta, tomato sauces (from the thirty tomato plants), and soups. We will work on posting the recipes.

The way I figure it is that God made babies extremely cute so that the human race might actually perpetuate itself. I'm somewhere in week 20-something or other here, laying only on my poor injured left side, tired basically all the time, and up twice a night for tasks that shouldn't be necessary. I tried a t-shirt on yesterday with a pregnancy pillow so that I could see if the t-shirt would still fit in three or four months and decided that the last thing I would be worrying about in three months is whether the t-shirt fits.

This reminds me of a winter I spent in Michigan where I had the terrible realization in January that winter was half over at best. Here in California it is half over too in January, but we have about a month left at that point. "It's half over and I still have three more months?" I said to myself about the Michigan winter. I said something similar to myself just recently. I am somewhat torn, however, because there are some work projects I want to complete before this baby is using his or her own lungs instead of mine. I suppose I should make this book available too at some point before these children are in college.

In the meantime, I thought I'd post a bit about how I am surviving. First, a caveat: many days I am not entirely sure that I am surviving, so take this advice for what it's worth. I have done much better than in my previous pregnancy. I have been able to work in the yard fairly consistently, though I do need to rest much more than ever. I have not had a down cycle, though I am sure my family would report that I've had my moments.

A big part of our survival is "This List." It has provided a perspective for us here. It is most certainly centered around me but I make no apologies for it. No one in the household seems to dispute the list since they know how bad things can get. The list comes from a note to pregnant women closer to forty than twenty. My husband agreed to it well over a year ago:

Future Baby Agreement

1) If I say I need something, the correct response is:

"I will figure out how to make that happen."

The incorrect responses are

"Are you sure?" or

"How much will that cost?"

2) Do not expect me to earn more than $XX a month (5-8 hours of work each week). I cannot be a money machine and a baby machine at the same time. If other money needs to be made, someone else needs to do it. And if my demands from item #1 on the list exceed my own earning power, that should not be my problem.

3) If we need more funds to pay for #1 on the list, reducing retirement savings is far better than me going bananas. Retirement is still decades away. The mental institution is just a few miles away.

4) If it becomes unreasonable for me to earn even $XX a month, then revert to #1 on the list.

5) Should I earn more than $XX a month, the excess will pay for additional household staff at my discretion.

6) I will not require us to move to a deserted island during my pregnancy so that you can harvest wild seafood for my dinner while I bask in the sun. Though it is my pregnancy fantasy, I won't make it a requirement under Item #1. It would, however, make a handsome holiday gift.

Of course, the list revolves around item #1 and I have only needed to use it once so far. I lost a pretty big contract and said that we could not replace it. The work that we could replace it with would not be good for me right now. We agreed fairly easily. It is a lot easier to live on a budget than to live with depression.

Some other rules of thumb for survival after the jump: