Drying herbs

I've been away from my own home for so long this year and I missed making food from what I can grow on our small piece of land or buy fresh at the local markets. 

When i came back, my herb garden was definitely in need of some attention.  Some of my herbs had been crowded out by weeds, some had gotten spindly for lack of pruning, but others had absolutely exploded.  With these, it was the perfect opportunity to harvest a little crop and dry the herbs for future use.  There were other bundles of herbs I had hung to dry before I left and they were now finished and ready to use.

I simply cut off trimmings of my herbs, wash them thoroughly, tie the ends together with a rubber band, and hang them at the top of one of our cabinets, where it is cool and they get good air circulation.  When they are dry and brittle, I take the leaves off the stems, crush them into smaller pieces, and place them in containers until I need them in a recipe.

It's always a lovely feeling to cook with something I grew and processed myself, and drying herbs is such a simple way to do that.

Fresh thyme, rosemary, oregano, and lavender

Dried thyme, rosemary, oregano, and lavendar

Herbs hanging to dry

Dried oregano and sage

Sage bundle

P.S. My husband and I have an ongoing argument about how to pronounce "herb."  Is the "H" silent or not?

My DIY ordeal/adventure

“The difference between an adventure and an ordeal is attitude.”
— Bob Bitchin

Not long after we moved into our home, I attempted to get a cow skin rug and a cow skull as decor pieces.  This was not supposed to be a DIY project, but it certainly turned out to be one.  This post is probably not a helpful one if you're looking to DIY your own cow hide, but it is the story of an ordeal that, with a little humor, turned into an adventure and a couple of impromptu DIY projects that turned out to be "good enough."

It all started by taking Eric's cousin on a photo "safari" in Kampala, along the railroad tracks.  I had never explored the area and thought it would be a great excuse to take pictures of whatever could be there.  Soon, we ran into a flock of the very ugly maribu storks, known to be Kampala's trash eaters, and I wondered what brought them to this place.  After looking around a bit, we were pointed to the maribu storks' attraction - Kampala's slaughterhouse. 

Well, one thing led to another, as they often do, and soon I was promised that the next morning I could come by and pickup a cow skin and skull.  I thought it was a deal.  I thought my entryway would look great with a cow skin rug and I would surely find a cool place to hang a skull with the long, dramatic Ankole horns.  I thought I would swing by and pick up these items, shiny and neat and ready to adorn my home.

To make a long story short, there was nothing shiny or neat about my cow skin and skull the next morning.  I was told to follow my new butcher friend as we weaved our way through the various sections of the slaughterhouse and I was handed my very fresh, very raw pieces, right off the cow.  The skull had eyes, a tongue, and skin, all of which I convinced them to remove, and the hide had fat and blood still dripping from it.  It wasn't long before I was sitting on a boda boda, weaving through Kampala's streets while holding an enormous cow head, it horns straddling me, baffled at what just happened and clueless as to what to do with these fresh cow parts.

Picking out my own cow hide

 

The skin is in the yellow bag on the back and the cow skull...well...there it is.

 

When I reached home, I stared at my newly-purchased goods, wondering what I just got myself into.

Step one: Change my clothes, which were now covered in blood
Step two: Google

The first thing I discovered was I would have to act fast with the cow hide, or it would start rotting within a few hours.  At the very least, I needed to stretch the skin, cut off the fat, and pour salt all over it, so I lugged it around my yard, attempting to hang it, but it was so wet and heavy, I couldn't manage alone.  An hour or so later, I finally called the guy who sold it to me and asked him to come do the work.  Meanwhile, my method for cleaning up the skull simply involved letting my dogs have their way with it.

 

My attempt at hanging and stretching the hide.  Fail.

 

The stretched hide on our porch, with salt all over it.

The skull, after the dogs ate off the good stuff.

After a couple of days, we put the skull in an old latrine in our back yard, hoping the ground critters would do the rest of the work to clean it up.  It lay there, largely forgotten about, for about 2 years.

The next week, the hide was dry. It was hard and a little crisp - certainly not the nice tanned hide I had wanted, but it still looked nice in our entryway, so I called it good enough.

Just last week, we pulled the cow skull out from its forgotten hideaway and cleaned the dirt off with a brush, soap, and water.  It is by no means shiny and polished, but when placed beside our hippo skull and two impala skulls, it adds some intrigue to our home.  Again, I will settle for "good enough."

The day I picked up my animal parts turned out to be one of the more absurd days of my life in Uganda.  It definitely did not go as planned, but it did provide me the opportunity to learn something new and practice my pioneer woman skills.  I suppose I can now look back on the ordeal, laugh at myself, and call it an adventure.

A Photographic Ode to the Boda Boda

There are so many defining characteristics about Uganda, but one of the more quirky and unique elements of this great country is presence of the great boda boda.  These motorcycles-turned-taxis/uhauls swarm the cities and can be found in the deepest of villages.  Their drivers are known to have  eclectic fashion and to be a little over-persistent in attempting to get your business.  They may not be the safest transportation option, but bodas sure are handy when you're stuck in traffic or you need to cheaply move something from point A to point B.  Whether you love them or hate them, there is no doubt bodas will give you a good laugh when you spot one of their ridiculous loads putting down the road.

I've put together quite the collection of photos of over the years, documenting these absurdities.  One day the boda will be highly regulated and we will look back at these photos in nostalgia (or will we?)  So here it is - my photographic ode to the boda boda.

We go?

The common boda boda:

The stick shift boda:

The furniture carriers:

desk on a boda

Those that carry animals, both dead...

...and alive.

The ones with Very Big Loads:

Those used to commute to school...

...or work:

Those who laugh in the face of wind resistance:

 
 
 
 

The ones with impeccable balance:

 
 

The boda who will make some kids very happy:

The under-appreciated bicycle boda:

And finally, a couple of my own bodadventures:

What are some of your favorite boda moments or what are some of the craziest things you've spotted on the back of a boda?

Please keep in mind that all of these photos are copyrighted to Dani Walker Kreutter and it is illegal to reproduce them in any way without my permission.  Thank you.

Life Lessons of a New Mother

I had no idea what to expect from motherhood, and it has surprised me on many levels.  Being a mother has brought me to my knees and humbled me every day in the last 6 weeks; it has shown me parts of myself that I didn't know exist and it has taught me lessons I didn't know I needed to learn.  Leo and I just had our 6 week check-up, so in honor of that small milestone, here are a few of those lessons I've learned about life and myself:

- There is no shame in asking for or accepting help.  We can't do life on our own and for some reason, I don't like to lower my pride to admit that.  Sometimes we cling to individuality rather than embrace community.  But whether it was a friendly stranger in the airport, or my family helping me at home, I don't think I would have kept my sanity without the help of others, and I've learned that it blesses them to help me.  We are connected and dependent on one another - and that's a very beautiful thing.

- I must redefine success and productivity.  I'm a product of a Midwestern farming family, where work ethic ranks high on our list of moral values, so on the days when I only eat, sleep, and nurse, I can feel like a useless human for not producing anything the world views as meaningful.  But with every day that passes, caring for my son seems more and more like the most important job in the world and I never thought I would be the kind of woman to say that.  I now see success from a completely different viewpoint.

- Accept and lean in to discomfort.  Resisting makes it worse.  I've learned that I can either complain about waking up in the middle of the night to nurse or I can lean into what is and simply accept this as a phase of life.  Sometimes I watch movies in the middle of the night while I feed my son instead of watching the clock and wandering when I can climb back into bed.  Even as I write these notes, Leo started fussing.  Instead being annoyed at the disruption, I decided to dance with him, which is way more fun!

- We don't need a lot of stuff.  I think we've over-complicated child rearing.  The Baby Gear World is out of control.  Since when did raising a child require so many things? I've tried to take some cues from African mothers who use much less and I ask myself if each purchase is really necessary.  Often, the answer is no.

 
 

- Persistence pays.  I knew I wanted to breastfeed, but I didn't know that it would be so hard at first.  It was painful and frustrating, emotional and difficult.  My midwife's assistant told me it gets better at 2 weeks, but right when I clocked 2 weeks, I came down with mastitis...twice.  I was nervous to nurse in public and Leo is still learning to latch on his own, but we have come so far.  It's beginning to feel like second nature.  When I reflect on my favorite moments with Leo, I realize that many have happened while nursing.  I'm proud of myself for not giving up and for overcoming those difficult days.

- Confidence and boldness are a must.  It's amazing how many people want to tell me how to raise my baby.  Relatives, medical professionals, and even complete strangers all have strong opinions on everything from the use of pacifiers to how I should hold my baby.  Without confidence in myself and trusting my own intuition, it would be easy to feel undermined every step of the way.  And without the boldness it requires to say, "Thanks, but no thanks" and "Actually, I know what I'm doing," I would get steamrolled by others every single day. 

- Maturity requires the ability to hold space for more than one emotion.  Some friends didn't want to "bother" me with hardships they were facing in life, afraid they would "bring me down" during the expectant last weeks of pregnancy and the joyful first weeks of motherhood.  But my emotional state is not a singular measure.  I can walk with others in their pain while still feeling gratitude for this new joy in my life.  And when I am hurting, I know I can rejoice with others in their victories.

- Pleasing others is not a virtue.  It's a journey I've been walking for quite some time - learning to stop pushing myself so hard just to please others.  Saying no to others is a possibility and is often the best thing to do.  I turned down quite a few anxious friends who wanted to visit or have catch-up phone conversations in the first weeks after Leo was born.  Every single time, it was hard to tell them no, but it has been a great lesson in the beauty of self-care and putting myself first in my life.

The Great Purge

I've spent nearly 5 months away from our house, a place where we have put so much of our own effort and creativity, so it is great to be back in my own space.  But just minutes after wheeling our suitcases inside, I looked around my home and thought, "Why do I have all of this?"

Even with the lack of sleep from travel and having a newborn plus all there is to do with getting back to life in Uganda, I have an unavoidable itch to purge my home.  In the precious moments of free time I can find since I've been back, I go through one section of my home at a time and decide what goes and what stays. It's interesting to watch my own thoughts as I try to justify each decision and it makes me realize why I've acquired so much in the first place.  I've realized how much I can be attached to things, to stuff and how much mental energy each thing takes from me.  I realize that I hang on to something just because...

someone gave it to me
I bought it during one of our travels
I got it for a deal
it was expensive
I took/wore it to a particular event
it could be used sometime in the future
it was made ethically/locally/with natural sources
I made it

But having all of this stuff really isn't improving our lives, so I'm slowly attempting to purge my things down to what we really love or need.  As I take one step at a time to simplify my life, this time simplification means cutting down on material things.

What makes you keep something unnecessarily? Do you have any sources of inspiration to share in regards to simplifying our lives on a material level?