Fermented Summer Squash, Dig it

Today I started a gallon batch of summer squash fermenting on the kitchen counter. Dig it.

I had four squash, on the larger side. I cut them, trimmed out the seedy bits, cut them into bite sized pieces, tossed them into a gallon gar with some pepper corns, mustard seed, celery seed (none of it measured) and covered them with a 3.6% brine (2 tablespoons sea salt to 1 quart of water). I had lined the bottom of the jar and then covered the top with horseradish leaves to add the tannins that support crispiness and that hold the squash bits submerged under the brine. I weigh it down with a jar filled with water and then cover it with a cotton dish cloth, just to keep un-wantables out. Dig it.

This batch should be ready for cold storage in 3 to 5 days, depending on the weather. And for munching too. Dig it.

These should come out akin to "half-sours," not too salty, ya know? And with the pickling spice flavors. You can make a stronger brine if you like them a bit saltier (3T sea salt to 1 quart water = 5.4% brine). Who knows, I may add some honey to them when I pack them in the smaller jars. We'll see. I'll keep ya posted.

Dig it.

Peace.

Sabbatikos

I honor "threes." I pay attention to patterns of three. When the third person asked what was going on with my blog because I'd not posted in so long, I thought I'd better pause to share where I Am.

April and May felt hectic to me. I felt pressure and rattling stress. I felt frazzled, tired and worn out. I sat with those feelings until I sunk to their roots. My roots. There, I looked up and saw that trimming was in order.

I cancelled planned travel and a few other activities, as well as tabled other projects I had ready for scheduling. I stayed tuned-in to those roots and continued gazing into my world, and began pruning life-foliage, my visible life. Know what I mean? And I've been witnessing and trimming ever since, recreating my upper world in a way that my roots can support.

It's true that this removes me from some aspects of life that I realize as valuable. It's not (necessarily) easy, simple or enjoyable. Yet, I acknowledge that even a life made manifest in the most intentional of ways can grow beyond what can be healthfully supported, no matter how charmed or blessed it may be. So even charms and blessings must be clipped, like this space I share with you here, among others, until the roots are tended, nourished and can carry the new-growth-to-come.

And it will.

That is all.

For now.

::wink::

Peace.