Why I'm not an Ingalls.

When I was eleven years old, I became hooked on The Little House on the Prairie series.  I gobbled each and every one of those books down; I couldn't get enough.  I grew up in the midwest, snuggled (sometimes trapped) in the house during the snowy winters.  I don't know if most 'tween girls spend every night in the bathtub, listening to the Cranberries and reading about pioneer life...but nothing made me happier.  I guess I was born a little old lady, and I'm still an introvert today.  Every fall I whip out my copy of Farmer Boy, fill up the tub, and read about making fullcloth and preserves, butter and calico and apples n' onions and...

Oh.  If only.

So, I tend to start a lot of projects.  I pretend I'm going to plant container gardens on the balcony and go berry picking and make preserves and buy raw milk at the farmer's market.

I buy more cookbooks.  I decide I'm going to bake all our bread and make granola from scratch.


My New Year's resolution was to perfect a sourdough starter.  I buy embroidery hoops and make Christmas ornaments.


I have a 50 quart canner in my hall closet, abandoned.  I have an enormous collection of embroidery floss, hoops and needles, untouched.  My cupboards are filled with yeast and pectin and ball jars...along with the apple corer that I pull out maybe once a year.

These are plans made in the early winter, during those idle months when snow and wool are still enjoyable.  When slowing down and staying in is a welcome break.  My passion for living like a pioneer woman usually peaks around New Year's, where I make a vow to ferment my own vinegar and make all our own cleaning supplies.  And then winter's lethargy takes over and I settle in for a long, lazy season spent cursing the rain and cold.  Instead of making things, I read blogs about making things.  I really shouldn't be eating all that bread, anyway.  By the time the first flower shows up, I've forgotten all about my winter projects and we're swept away by a busy summer.  It'll be too hot to garden.  I'll plant the garden next year.  I'll have more time to plan, anyway.

An Ingalls, I am not.  I dream, but I am not industrious.  I purchase accessories and research instructions and start off with the best of intentions.  But then I remember that these things require planning and ingredients and time, and they are put away for another day.  This blog is probably another one of those projects, but that's okay.  I mean well!



So. Who's growing tomatoes this summer?  Any tips?  There's much to be done, you see.