Eggies....

We finally have eggs!

This is our very first egg from our girl, Kung Pao.

She started laying a little bit early for a Barred Rock but she is our smartest, most gregarious chicken, so it's not really surprising that she is ahead of the rest of the class.

The night before her first egg, she is acting really weird when I put them all to coop. She won't roost and she's making a strange little worried sound.

Saturday morning I open the coop and on the floor of their pen is that little brown egg! I nearly piddle myself in all of the excitement. Her first egg is perfect with a really hard shell and its kind of shiny and smooth. We put it in the fridge and hoped for another one in a few days or so.

Sunday morning rolls around and sure enough, there is no egg in the coop and I am crestfallen even though I know logically not to expect one. I let the ladies out to scratch for bugs in the yard and I go back inside to make breakfast. A few minutes later, Kung Pao starts making all kinds of racket; she's squawking and clucking and just making an all around ruckus. I go outside and start scanning the sky for hawks or eagles or UFO's (all highly unlikely midtown) since she's pitching such a fit. All seems well and I return to the kitchen. She keeps up her kerfuffle for another twenty minutes or so all the while the other hens are beside themselves with worry and panic. They just cannot understand what has their flock- mate in such a tither.

Once the ruckus dies down, I make my way out back to make sure that she is okay and I cannot find her anywhere. She usually runs out to peck our toes and beg for treats but I search the yard and her pen and she isn't to be found. The other girls are huddled in a corner by the side yard fence and I worry that she has somehow gotten out and the others are trying to follow suit.

As I get closer, I see her telltale markings hiding underneath Tigger Bear's boxwoods (where he used to hide during his severe Alzheimer's episodes and chew on the branches to calm himself). As I re

She's been laying for about a month now and it's kind of cool because she has never missed a day. I've heard that the first few times a hen lays she may be hit or miss but this gal has been a little egg machine since day one.

A few weeks after she started laying she developed an eye infection, which I found out is fairly common once they start laying.

The standard treatment is Tetracycline, which is a livestock antibiotic. It's fairly safe; you can still consume the eggs while dosing your flock, but I am not too sure that I want to anymore.

She's been on the TC for about a week and we didn't really notice anything unusual until she laid the other day. I actually thought I was being punked and that one of the neighbors had snuck into our yard and replaced her egg with a store bought variety.

Check out the difference between one of her week old eggs and this monster:

We finally

Praying Mantis, Zip Lines, Poached Chickens and Greeks…

have so many things that I have wanted to blog about but we have been so busy having fun that I have been remiss in actually blogging about the fun stuff. So in the interest of conserving energy (read- because I am lazy), I have decided to combine my posts into one (probably lengthy) post.

Item One: Praying Mantis

I realized that I am a gardening freak about two weeks ago. I knew that I enjoyed gardening

before then, but I did not yet realize to what extent I would go to better my garden…

I was out at the Fedex building way on the west side of town picking up my new cell phone and as I was walking to my van, I spotted a Praying mantis on the asphalt. She was bright green and she looked really healthy. I started freaking out and I ran to the van and emptied a plastic Rubbermaid tub and took it back and caught the Mantis. I was giddy with excitement because the garden centers sell live Mantises (Mantees? Manti?) for about eight bucks. You release them in your yard and hope to hell that your tomato aphids are much tastier than the ones in your neighbor’s yard. I love my neighbors but not enough to spend eight Washingtons for a mantis to eat all of their nasties while the ones in my yard decimate my veggies. But a free mantis is worth a little risk.

I carried my beauty home and set her free at dusk (prime aphid feeding time).

She stuck around me for awhile and then winged to my raspberry bush and worked her way to my Amish Paste Tomato plant. Eureka! Success. About a week later, I saw her on my porch around midnight. She even crawled on my cousin’s neck while he freaked out (he’s 6’2’ and covered in tattoos- but he’s still a mama’s boy- even though he’ll kick your ass if you call him that), so she has settled into her garden jungle quite nicely.

Item Two: Zip Lines

Our next door neighbors invited us to go to the last aerials ski show of the summer two weekends ago. This is where the skiers fly off a ramp and flip in all kinds of crazy

directions before landing in a pool of water. It was awesome to watch and we all had a blast.

Then the neighbors had rain checks for the giant zip line because they had previously gotten rained out. Since they had three tickets, we only had to buy one ticket.

I was scared at first but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do so I mustered some backbone and pushed onward. It was terrifyingly awesome. I would do it again in a heartbeat. There is a larger one at the Whistler ski resort in Vancouver, Canada that I want to try. It’s even bigger than this one.

I highly recommend trying this if you ever get the chance.

Item Three: Poached Chickens

Last week was not a great week for us, animal-wise… Let me first say that no animals died in the writing of this blog, but we had an eventful, somewhat dramatic week, nonetheless.

We are watching a dog for some close friends until December and she’s a super-sweet dog. She’s ten years old and she’s a cross between some kind of hound dog (huge, droopy ears, sad eyes, long legs) and possibly a lab or some such. She weighs eighty pounds (although she only weighed sixty-five when she arrived. Katrina: Food = Love) and she is sweet and snuggly and is afraid of the toothless, clawless handicapped cat. She is also afraid of the chickens, which enjoy chasing her and the rest of the dogs around the yard.

Wednesday night, she sliced the artery of her left rear leg open on God knows what. We tried unsuccessfully to staunch the flow for about an hour and then finally had to take her to the night clinic. $420 later she is healing well and will need her bandages changed later this week, but at least she is okay and she’s on the mend.

The very next night Katrina opened up the hot tub to let it cool enough for us to get in a bit later. She didn’t consider that our chickens often jump up on the hot tub lid to perch and snooze before we carry them off to coop each night. Chickens are not the brightest animals to begin with and ours are no exception. Katrina went out to check the hot tub and finds two slightly damp chickens perched on the edge of the hot tub, snoozing. ‘

Bear in mind that we have three hens in our flock. She shines the flashlight in the water and (remember her completely irrational shark phobia?) sees a dark mass floating on the water. She screams and drops the flashlight before she realizes that it’s Cashew, our Americauna, wings spread and one clawed toe wedged in the filter to stay afloat. We have no idea how long she was in there but we were scared that she may have been poisoned by the chlorine. Our hot tub is 95% organic but we must shock the water once a month with a non-organic chlorinator, which is toxic. She was gurgling a little bit and shivering so we dried her off and put her on a towel under a upturned laundry basket with the old clutch light (heat lamp) next to her, fully expecting to find a dead chicken the next morning. Katrina was really upset and guilt-ridden about the incident, but early the next morning, we had a warm, dry chicken more than ready to join her flock mates for a delicious breakfast scratch. She seems no worse for the wear and we learned a valuable lesson about hot tubs and chickens.

Last Item: Greeks

Friday night celebrated the kick-off of the Greek Festival here in Salt Lake City. It’s held annually at the Greek Orthodox church and involves little more than paying admission and parking to stand in line for two hours to eat Greek food and watch Greek dancing. This may sound like a waste of time and money but I assure you, if you like Greek food (my very, very favorite food of all time), it’s well worth the wait. The dancing is fun to watch and it’s also great to people watch the ten thousand other folks standing in line ahead of you.

God bless the Mediterranean!

Well, that should bring you up to date on the most interesting aspects of our mundane lives for now.

Tonight, we plan on going to the Utah State Fair. Next year, I hope to enter some of my veggies or maybe one of the chickens. I think my Brandywine tomatoes or my English cucumbers could hold their own. In the meantime, I will enjoy the fruits of someone else’s labor for a change.

Wabbits!!!!!

I already posted the pictures of our chickens and now I finally got around to getting some shots of the bunnies. We got them for free from freecycle.com. I posted a notice saying that I was looking to rescue some female bunnies and I was inundated with responses. I took all four of my girls from the same house, so they get along well. I have no idea how old any of them are, but the black one is the offspring of the cinnamon one.

Also, we didn't name them, although Katrina has made up her own monikers:

The orange French lop is named Cher (named by the lady's fourteen year old son...hmmmm...)

The albino Flemish Giant is Ruby, named for her red eyes, I assume.

The little cinnamon gal is named, well... cinnamon, although I call her Sinny Minny. She is the tamest of the bunch and she loves to snuggle.

The little black hellion, who we just spend thirty minutes retrieving from behind the shed because she dug a six foot burrow out of the rabbit warren, is named Spitball. Katrina calls her Spitfire and I call her "Hellfire & Damnation, get back here you blankety blank!!!"

The White Flemish Giant really is a giant. She is about 28 inches long and she weighs about 16 pounds. She is larger than Fritz.

They have a great 6 foot by 10 foot warren that is passive solar. It is fenced on the west by a 6 foot plank fence, on the south with a six foot chain link fence, and on the east by the west wall of my metal garden shed. A salvaged front door lies crosswise for now as the north entrance.

My neighbors gave us a double paned sliding door assembly with two 4 foot by 7 foot reinforced glass panels. We tore the assembly apart and laid both glass pieces from the shed roof to the plank fence with cross braces for support. In the winter, the sun will melt the snow and provide warmth to their dry den. In the summer, we have kept half of the glass covered with a bamboo tiki fence to keep it cool. We have grapevines growing on the outside of the chain link fence so it stays shady and cool all summer.

The rabbits love eating grape leaves and vines in addition to their pellets and fresh alfalfa. Ruby and Sinny also LOVE dried bananas anode blueberry yogurt drops. we also fed them some fresh apples tonight. Lagomorphs love sweets but should only be fed small amounts at a time else the go sugar crazy.

I spend at least thirty minutes in their den with them every day. i have a metal chair under which I've build a little black hutch filled with straw. I can sit in the chair and cuddle each gall one at a time. Cher is the least snugly and Ruby really on cares about sweets, but they still submit to my snugly fits.

All in all, I am very satisfied with my little poop machines. I have plenty of ready fertilizer for my garden (rabbit poop is a mellow fertilizer that doesn't have to be composted like chicken manure to be garden safe), and I get daily snuggles, as well.

Plus, Sidney gets more fuzzy things to love...

My Girlfriend Makes Me Fat!!!

I finally figured out that my obesity is not my fault. I take NO blame for it, whatsoever.

It's entirely Katrina's fault and none of my own doing. I blame her, and her alone.

As you know, I am eating mostly organic, vegetarian or vegan fare at the moment. In an effort to expand my culinary choices, I have become more adventurous in my gastrointestinal consumption.

While at the Farmer's Market last weekend to pick up my composting worms and organic layer mash (chicken feed), I happened upon a mushroom booth. I am a newbie in the field of fungifilia, and I am still fairly limited in the types of mushrooms that I have tried and even more limited in the way that I like them prepared, so I have to be honest when I say that it was the fresh picked huckleberries that they also offered that initially drew me near. While I was standing in line, eyeing the strange looking growths on the table, a man commented to his adult daughter that the 'Hen of the Woods' mushroom that was making me cringe away for fear of contagion, were the variety that they bought the previous weekend.

Out of pure curiosity and nosiness, I asked if he enjoyed the spongeous growth and he affirmed that it was very tasty, indeed.

What the hell? If you're going to be adventurous; then just do it. If I can eat live squid and balut and python, then I can try this. I purchased $5 worth of the smelly things, along with my succulent huckleberries (yum!).

After a week of hemming and hawing, we finally got around to cooking the Hen of the Woods mushrooms and by we, I mean Chef Trina.

Suffice it to say that I was not really looking forward to the meal because I didn't think I would enjoy it that much. It was a super- simple set up: Organic pasta (boiled & drained), fresh minced garlic and onions, mushrooms and a fresh yellow squash from our garden.

Trina sauteed the garlic and onion is a little bit of oil, added the mushrooms and a little bit of balsamic vinegar and red wine, cooked to reduce it. In a separate pan, she cooked the squash in a little bit of butter (not entirely vegan but my favorite way to eat squash). Then she threw the entire mess together and tossed with the pasta. No sauce or anything. She brought me a plate and some shredded cheese and something told me No.

I will eat cheese three times a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. I love cheese more than sex (no offense to anyone special intended, dear). If I became lactose intolerant tomorrow, I would simply open a vein and end it all, because life would no longer be worth living.

Giving up bacon broke my heart, but giving up cheese would kill me, so it came as a huge surprise to both of us that I said nay, nay on the curdled cow.

What followed was, without a doubt, the single best meal that I have ever had, in my entire life. I know that I am prone to grandiose descriptions and histrionics, but after sharing my food with the neighbors and several co-workers, the general consensus was that this meal rocked the block!

It's Friday afternoon as I write this and I am aflutter with excitement for the Farmer's Market tomorrow morning. I intend to by at least $20 worth of these little shit spores, plus $8 for my friend Amie and I know that Nolan neighbor plans to buy some, as well.

As much as this blog has been an advertisement for mushrooms, the reality is that most of the meals that Katrina cooks are of similar quality, and vegan or not, I will be fat for the remainder of my days.

I love to cook and I did 100% of the cooking in our family for a decade because Katrina couldn't boil water without an incendiary incident. I loved inventing recipes and my tuna noodle casserole and guacamole are legendary among friends, so it was surprising when she signed up for a cooking class at a retreat (i.e.- free trip to the Marlboro Ranch six years after we quit smoking). What was more surprising was how quickly she took to it and how intuitive she was with ingredients. To this day, unless she is baking, she rarely measures anything and she has taken every single one of my recipes (much to my chagrin) and improved the hell out of them. Her vegan pasta sauce is my fave (up until now: fungus power!) and I never make chili anymore, because mine just doesn't stack up.

I used to love my own cooking and I preferred my meals over all others, but now I look forward to Katrina's home cooked meals every day. I am on my way to being as big as a house, but that's just something Katrina will have to shoulder her guilt on. I know how hard it must be on her, knowing that she is solely responsible for my condition, yet she soldiers on bravely, never letting on that the terrible guilt of making her partner fat haunts her every waking moment...

She's such a trooper...

Hungry For Change

When I say that I don't eat red meat or pork and that I eat organically, most people tilt their heads and peer hard at me.

I guess they are looking for the hidden, dirty dreadlocks, bare feet, unwashed and unshaven body of a "God -Damn Dirty Hippie".

Then again, they may be wondering how someone can not eat steak and bacon and still be so fat.

Either way, I am not your stereotypical tree- hugging, green fiend. Don't get me wrong, I am both a hugger and a fiend, but I have justifiable reasons for my choices. I don't know if many folks take the time to explain to others why they choose this manner of living, so I will attempt to do so for myself now.

There is the standard 'tread lightly' response, which is part of why I choose sustainability. I think that we, short-lived, tiny little creatures are unbelievably arrogant to think that this ENTIRE planet was put here for our sole, gluttonous consumption. We are so small in comparison to the universe and our lives ore really short in the cosmic scheme of time; yet we achieve such massive destruction of our only resources.

We have so utterly lost touch with nature and our food that we cannot even conceive the amount of space, effort and resources it takes to feed this country alone, much less the rest of the civilized world. We somehow think that we can just go to some planetary superstore and buy a newer model planet when this one wears out. Since we have no relationship with our food as it grows, we have no concept of how it got to our table, other than the store.

Did you know that Japan and the U.S. are the two largest consumers of commercial tuna in the world? Did you also know that each country consumes, by itself, more tuna than every other country on Earth (minus the other glutton)?

Did you also know that tuna are voracious carnivores and that they take years to mature to a reasonably harvest able size?

During their lives, tuna consume tons of smaller feed fish that are harvested from open ocean and ferried to the enclosed sea pens of commercial tuna farms. While the farms are a better option in some cases (controlled harvest in an enclosed pen= dolphin safe), the sad fact is that most commercial farms are located in southeast Asia (although several offshore tuna farms are being built by a Japanese tuna company near the California coast), near communities that rely on daily fishing to feed their families.

In the Philippines and Cambodia there are 'pole cities' of floating huts where fishermen and their families' only means of sustenance is the food they catch from the sea. They are so poor that they cannot even afford to live on land, thus they construct their floating homes in shallow water, attached to long bamboo poles that they sink into the sand. They have no electricity or plumbing and they distill sea water for fresh drinking water and they cook their fish in metal pans in the sun with no other fuel.

Commercial fishing fleets that sell feed to tuna farms are literally fishing these communities into starvation. People are dying so that wealthy Japanese and American consumers can have their Charlie the tuna treat. We throw an average of 20-30% of our food away and people are starving because of our gluttony.

This lengthy diatribe brings me to the real point of this blog: There is a new movie out called"Food, Inc.". This documentary exposes the real enemies of our society and it's not the Taliban or Muslims or Peaceniks. It's not those 'damn lazy Mexican stealing all our jobs' (if they are so lazy, then why are they employed instead of you?), or those dangerous Canadians with their radical health care...

They enemy of America is America. This great land was built on the spirit of commerce and our desire to make a better life for ourselves, but there are many Americans who will sacrifice your health, and the health and safety of your children for the sake of a buck.

The most important reason I choose to eat organically is me. I am an American and I decide what goes into my body. It's not freedom if you don't get to choose...

http://www.foodincmovie.com/about-the-film.php

I choose not to put harmful chemicals into my body if I can help it. They world around us is filled with toxins that leach the health and wellness from our bodies every day. I didn't actually believe all of the hocus pocus until I tried it for myself. I gave it six weeks, just to see if I noticed anything different.

Results:

• I lost fifteen pounds
• My skin cleared up
• My hair and skin feel super soft (I can't stop touching myself, people are getting a little nervous around me)
• I feel terrific. I mean really terrific.
• I went jogging. Jogging! ME! Did I mention that I went jogging? I twas only four blocks, but still!!!

I also notice that when I don't eat healthy now, I feel like crap. I can still get away with conventional food but I pay for it.

Besides, I don't want to put bio toxins and endocrine disruptors and rampant carcinogens into my body. I want clean living and clean mind and I don't think you can have those things if you are filled with nuclear sludge.

I want my life to be long and healthy and I want a beautiful place to live out the remainder of my days. I want to breathe clean air and sunshine, I want to run through wildflower meadows and I want to eat pure food from my own garden.

I want the next generation to blow dandelions and drink lemonade on a hot summer day. I want them to wade in clean rivers filled with one-headed fish that are safe to catch. I want to see children grow up and change the world in a meaningful, beneficial way. I want a brighter tomorrow for the only place I will ever call home.

Speaking of Chickens...

Here are the latest picture of our little (soon to be) egg-laying compost machines. These ladies have a lot of attitude...

Left to Right: Cashew, Kung Pao and Moo Shu

Moo Shu

Cashew and Kung Pao

Kung Pao

Jenn and Moo Shu hanging out

Bureaucratic Stupidity at It's Finest

I am a responsible pet owner: All of my animals are spayed or neutered, they are all micro chipped and they all receive their annual vaccinations.

Additionally, they all eat Iams food, receive their heartworm medication from April to October and are otherwise spoiled rotten.

They all have cushy pet beds (all over the freaking house), toys, treats and cuddles. They get bathed and groomed regularly and furminated once a month (God bless you, dear furminator). They go for walkies and van rides and camping trips. They each get to take turns going to Lowe's and they even have new puppy gates on the porch so they can be out front with us when we are in the garden.

Despite all of this, we are criminals in the eyes of Salt Lake County. You see, the law allows only two dogs per household within the county limits and we *gasp* have three.

It doesn't matter that that they are well cared for or that we can afford to provide for them. It doesn't matter how much we love them or how well behaved they are (a highly debatable subject).

It doesn't matter that shelters are full to overflowing because hundreds of thousands of families can no longer provide for both their children and their beloved pets in the increasing economic recession, and 'free to good home' ads go unanswered for weeks because nobody has the financial means to take on additional mouths to feed.

If the county wanted to, they could force me to give up or euthanize one of my dogs because I am in violation of their arbitrary county code, even though these dogs have been my family for the past ten to fifteen years (Fritz is ten, Sidney is thirteen and Casey is fifteen).

I can pop out all the illegitimate kids I want, and still qualify for welfare in this state, but I cannot keep three sterile, happy dogs because of some bullshit code.

Ironically, the above diatribe is not even what this post is actually about...

Despite my chafing at the restrictive language of the county laws, I still try to be as law abiding as I possibly can. County law demands that all dogs residing within the county lines be licensed with the Division of Animal Services. Since two members of my brood are legal, I keep their licenses current every year.

Historically, the fee for a non-sterile animal has been $25 and sterilized animals cost $5. The animal must maintain current rabies and bordetella vaccinations and you must provide proof of vaccination every year or risk additional fines.

Since both of my kids are fixed, it has cost me $10 a year for the past 8 years.

Wednesday I received Sidney's annual renewal reminder and the fee for her was $20!

Don't get me wrong, $20 is not a lot of money but....

The county decides to raise the annual fee by 400% for each pet during an economic recession when people are living hand to mouth and finding it increasingly difficult to continue to provide for both their families and their pets, thus exacerbating a problem of already epidemic proportions!!!

Way to think ahead, Division of Salt Lake County Moron Employment Service!!!

Had you eliminated your ridiculously limiting arbitrary laws in the first place, you could have been making money off of me for the past sixteen years by allowing me to have my four (when Bear was alive) dogs and charging me for them. I would have happily paid $20 a year for the past sixteen years to keep my pack legal.

Instead, I paid your pittance for two dogs, kept an additional two dogs illegally for thirteen years (fat lot of good your laws did you, huh?), thus depriving you of an additional $130 in revenue (multiply by at least ten thousand illegal dog owners in the county).

Now, because you spend God knows how many years cutting off your nose to spite your face (do you know how many residents in Salt Lake county have more than two dogs?), you've decided to bend me over and really give it to me good...

What? No lube???

The Accidental Shoplifter

Katrina and I had tickets to the Indigo Girls concert up at Red Butte Gardens the other night and we decided to ride our mopeds and pick up Greek food on the way to the concert, to eat on our blanket while awaiting the start of the concert.

When I ordered the food, I specifically asked for as few boxes and assorted disposable materials as possible, to which they obliged. Mostly....

We were given two boxes of food and four knives, four forks and four spoons. I really don't think we ordered that much food (2 chicken souvlaki sticks, 2 pita breads, one order of feta cheese and Baklava for dessert), but apparently it was enough for a Greek battalion, thus warranting enough cutlery for a week long bivouac.

Upon witnessing this incredible waste of resources (I did recycle the unused pieces by taking them to work, but still...) I decided to make our own to-go utensil packs for our mopeds and bicycles.

So off to the DI we went, in search of funky retro cloth napkins and silverware.

I love the DI, it's green to re-use someone else's old junk and I love finding crazy vintage stuff at a lower price than those trendy, overpriced resale boutiques. Plus, I am one of the few people that can find something cool nearly every time I go there, a feat which frustrates my shopping companions (one of the fringe benefits of being the sole offspring of Bonnie Holt, Power Shopper Extraordinaire).

While I didn't find any silverware that I liked (or though was uncontaminated by mutated Botulism), I did find a crazy print laundry bag that I am going to turn into napkins. I also found a great combo corkscrew/bottle opener that was perfect for our picnic wagon, so I handed it to Katrina for her approval and moved on to the next aisle.

Once home, we dumped out our plundered booty and proceeded to sort everything to wash (I love the DI but... EVERYTHING gets washed... In hot... with bleach and Cipro... ).

As I was getting ready for my shower last night, I remembered that I didn't see the opener when we checked out or when we sorted everything at home, so I asked Katrina if she put it down because there was something wrong with it or she just didn't like it.

"No, it was in there somewhere", she replied.

I shook my head, "No, it wasn't there. Are you sure you didn't set it down while you were fooling with the CD players?"

Her eyes widened and realization spreads over her face. She reaches down into her left hand pocket, blinks and gulps and pulls out the opener with the fifty cent price sticker still attached.

As unfunny as the situation should have been, Katrina with the horror in her eyes and her mouth agape made me burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. I couldn't even continue to stand and sank to the floor of the bathroom, inappropriately chortling.

Although I offered to go in her place, Katrina went back this morning to pay them their fifty cents and blame A.D.D. for her lack of awareness. Always pass the blame whenever you can....

I am a member of the Salt Lake City food co-op highlighted in the article below and I have been preaching about the benefits of the co-op for nearly a year and my sermon has fallen on mostly deaf ears. Consider me the Jehovah’s Witness (or if you’re a JW, consider me a Mormon missionary) who just won’t go away. I, too have a wonderful story to tell and I don’t require tithing.

Everyone thinks there's a catch to this or that the food is garbage or leftover from somewhere; but those who think that are dead wrong. There are over 100,000 members in the co-op now and that means local, volume buying power (which equals discounts = cheaper prices for us all). During the summer and fall, you can even order the Farmer's Market Share which is 100% organic.

Look at it this way: Many of us shop at Smith's (or Albertson’s, Harmon’s, Ream’s), right? Well, they buy their products from wholesalers or direct marketers at wholesale prices. They then turn around and sell you and me the same product at a higher cost in order to make money. All the co-op does is to eliminate the middle man and allows you and I to buy at the wholesale rate. Plus, it allows the Utah food pantries to join in and make those dollars go farther to help our fellow Utahns in need. No good deed goes unpunished.

There is a non-compulsory lifetime membership fee of $5 but if you don't wish to pay it, so be it. You can still participate and buy your groceries at cost.

Everyone asks about the catch; as I can see it there are three:

1. You can only order and pick up your food once a month, so the fresh produce in your order will probably have to be supplemented sometime before the next delivery. Also, you have to be diligent about using your produce without wasting it; else you're not getting as good of a deal.

2. Team Sites and Times- You cannot just go down to the store when you feel like it and pick up your food. You have to go to your team site (which you choose from the website; and there are hundreds located throughout the three valleys) and you have to go at the designated time for your site (they are all on the last Saturday of each month). I cannot tell you how many Saturdays the cute little black ladies at the Calvary Baptist Church have had to look at me puttering up to their church on my pink scooter; in my PJ’s with my hair wildly askew, armed with my reusable shopping bags (you provide your own bags- green is good!). Those poor church ladies must think that Satan drives a Metropolitan, as wild-eyed and incoherent as I am (I am NOT a morning person). If you do not get to your site within the specified time frame, your food will be donated to the Utah Food Bank and you do not get a refund.

3. Community Service- The co-op asks you to donate two hours every month to community service (sort of a pay it forward) and you sign your paper saying that you have done so. Every six months, two of those hours must be with the co-op itself: my favorite chore is the bagging party the Thursday before pick up. You sit at a table and bag rice or beans with a few other people. Everyone talks and laughs and I’ve met some great new friends that way; one of whom got me free insulation installed in my attic (Hi Jerri!).

Katrina likes working in the warehouse because it’s nice and cold and she gets to boss everyone around. Plus, she comes home with extras like eleven, 3-pound cantaloupes and a flat of tomatoes. How on earth can two people eat thirty-three pounds of cantaloupe before it rots? Thirty three pounds of melon does interesting things to the gastrointestinal order of ones body…

It’s all on the honor system. In the summer, I use the fact that I mow my neighbor’s lawns as my community service all summer. The trade off is that my neighbor shovels my snow all winter so he could use that as his service in the winter months. I, on the other hand have to walk old ladies across the blizzard-wracked streets all winter.

If you do work through your church or other organization, or care for an elderly of otherwise-abled family member, that counts as well.

Bottom line: A fool and his money are soon parted… Only a fool wouldn’t want to save tremendous amounts of money on something they cannot live without; especially in this economic downturn.

Make your money work for you and stretch your dollar as far as you possibly can. Even if money isn’t tight for you, why wouldn’t you put the dollars saved towards your next vacation or dinner out? Or donate the difference to charity? Whatever turns your crank.

See the link below for additional information, including the link to their website.

Take care and happy 4^th of July!

http://www.utahstories.com/utah_food_co_op.htm

Calendar Update

Here is the additional calendar listing all of the cool stuff in Salt Lake. Both caledars are still valid, this one just has more general info.

My Google Calendar

Since I'm a hip girl about town and many of you wonder where I am at any given moment, I am posting my google calendar so that you can join in and share in all of the cool stuff that happens in Salt Lake each week. Unfortunately, since this is my personal calendar, all of my crap is listed on here, as well. Sorry 'bout that.