As I continue down my path, I am privileged to make observations about myself and figure out who I am a little bit more.  Most have this opportunity, but many don’t take the time for navel gazing introspection.  I’ve been blessed recently with the time to think and ponder and came to some conclusions about myself.

I am a DIYer (Do It Yourself-er).  I come from a long line of DIYers and I enjoy the things I do myself.  One of my cousins calls me a “modern-day pilgrim,” a friend calls me “Caroline Ingalls,” but I just call myself a DIYer.  The monikers all mean the same thing - that I do a lot from scratch or by hand.

I realized recently that some women don’t do things by hand or from scratch - either they don’t know how, were never taught, or simply don’t enjoy it.  I am privileged to know how via being taught, and I enjoy it.  A friend of mine said, “But why not just buy it at the store?” in response to a discussion about applesauce-canning plans.  My thought was, “Why would I do that, when it’s so darned easy to make at home?”

I think that’s one of the core differences between me and a non-DIYer.  I look for ways to do things at home, on my own, and would rather not buy something ready-made at the store if I can help it.

I was talking to my friend Elizabeth, who lives in the middle east.  She’s known me for years and although she loves me, she also knows what a nut I can be.  So we were talking about this exact thing and I queried if I was making more work for myself or becoming a slave to frugality.  She said, “For you, it’s always been a matter of experience, experimenting, and curiosity.  As in, “Can I do it?”"  I appreciate her candor and realized that indeed, that’s much of what my DIY-ness is about.  I didn’t get in to canning fruits & vegetables and growing a garden because I felt some need to squirrel things away - I wanted to know what I could do.  It was a test of my ability, a push of my own personal limits.

The same thing applies when I began baking bread for us.  I got tired of reading labels in the store, hunting for HFCS (which I’m pretty certain is the Devil, himself).  A friend sent me a bread-machine recipe, and not having a bread-machine but knowing that a Kitchen Aid mixer was a good substitute, I went to work adjusting the recipe.  And after a few months of tweaking this and that, it was perfect - 100% whole wheat bread that rises beautifully, is soft & delicious, and I control all of what goes in to it.  It’s down pat to a place where I’ve begun teaching friends who want to learn how to bake bread - and they achieve similar results.

As I ponder my garden this year (and gaze at the wealth of heirloom seeds I procured last week), I realize that again, I’m intentionally stretching myself.  I’m not 100% certain that I know what to do with a patch of spaghetti squash or how to successfully grow cauliflower, or how high to make a fence around my garden boxes.  But that’s what the internet is for, right?  I can read books, I can ask other local gardeners, and I can research fencing - knowing all the while that there really isn’t any fence that will keep a determined white-tailed deer out.  But I won’t let my lack of know-how deter me; life is about learning, experiencing, and doing.  And I’m not going to learn or experience without doing - or at least, trying.

Brendan wants to try to bake dog cookies for Cody (more on that in upcoming posts) - and I’m all for it.  I hunted around for a recipe that used 100% whole wheat flour and oats (no corn or corn meal) for our pooch’s sensitive stomach.  [Hey, if we're gonna do this, I'm *not* going to make something that makes the already gaseous dog moreso.  He's already jet-propelled up the steps in the house - no point in turning him in to a zeppelin and going down in flames when he lets one go!]  The dog cookies might turn out - they might not.  But there’s only one way to find out.  And I’m all for the experiment.

And that’s why I’m content to be a modern-day pilgrim or a Caroline-Ingalls-wannabe.  It’s who I am. 

For whatever reason, the word “preparedness” has been coming to my mind lately.  I don’t really understand it, but when something happens more than once (it usually happens in threes for me), I sit up and pay attention.  It’s usually God trying to get my attention, although I haven’t fully decided if this topic is divine-intervention or not. 

I have a pantry and I try to buy things to feed my family in a pantry-stocking manner.  In other words, it took a little while to set up, but I’ve got items that we use regularly, purchased at the lowest price I could find at the time, available to me to use so I don’t have to pay top-dollar when I need them.  Makes sense, right?

I think so.

I’ve not been stockpiling water, ammunition, or other items that some people do - mostly because I don’t see a need for them, and partly because I don’t want to be lumped in that “crazy group” of people who are ready to live in an underground bunker someplace in the Rocky Mountains.  And yes, I’m serious.  I know people like this and would rather not partake in a conspiracy-theory, no matter how plausible it might seem.

So where does “preparedness” come in for me?  Why is this an issue?  I honestly have no idea - genuinely.  And yet, it’s at the forefront of my mind and I can’t help but think that having a storehouse of items isn’t a terrible idea.

I think I struggle for two reasons:

1.  I am incredibly self-sufficient, left to my own means.  As much as I value relationships and people, I would rather Do It By Myself if given the choice.  Sometimes this is good, but lately it’s come to my attention that it’s a detriment to my spiritual walk.  If I’m reliant upon myself, then I’m not reliant upon God … you can see where this goes for me.

2.  I’m not a Latter-Day Saint (Mormon).  I’m not going to be LDS, and I understand why food-storage is a big deal and important within that particular faith.  But I’m not part of that group and that’s that.

And yet, I find myself longing for a small chest freezer to stick in the basement and to buy bulk quantities of wheat berries for my bread-making.  I find myself perusing sites that are linked to blogs about preparedness - and I don’t know why I’m there.  I wonder about #10 cans of dried goods, how I would use them, or even IF I would use them, and I find myself staring in horror at dried butter solids in a #10 can that are designed to mix with water and create a spreadable butter.

The foodie in me turns up her nose, but I wonder if it’s wise to continue to stock up on things that we use (okay, maybe not the #10 can of butter) and store them away for a rainy day (or a harder recession than we’re in now).  It seems like a good idea, and then I turn myself in a knot wondering if I’m being too self-sufficient and not God-reliant enough.

I’m conflicted - in case that wasn’t obvious.

There are certain things we will eat and some things we won’t - I’m not, for example, going to store up dried non-fat milk.  Icky.  Not when I’ve gone to great lengths and reasonable expense to procure farm-milk for my family.  There are some things that I won’t do because of the health-ramifications.  I won’t consider highly-processed foods like Twinkies®, no matter what the urban legend is about the preservatives allowing it to survive a nuclear holocaust. 

I know none of us are promised tomorrow, and I think that’s where some of my conflictedness comes from.  But then I think, even if I’m not promised tomorrow and I won’t be here, at least my family would have things they need to continue on without me…

Urg.

I talk myself in circles.  I need to figure out why this is such a hard topic for me and what my solution is.

What do you do for pantry-items and/or putting away things for the future?  What doesn’t work for you?  Why do you do what you do?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.  I don’t want to debate religion or theology - I’d just like to hear your ideas and tips.  I suspect we will end up with a freezer sooner rather than later, but what I stock it with will be determined by where I land on this topic.