A Plastic Free Solution: Freezing Chicken

In 2014 I participated in the Plastic Free July Challenge.  It took my awareness of the plastic issue to a whole new level.  As an omnivore, I became aware that if I buy meat, it will come wrapped in plastic or plasticized butcher paper.  After researching other buying options, I realized that the only way to avoid plastic is to raise my own meat.  Having only one half acre to my name, I chose to raise chicken.  My cats eat raw chicken, I use the eggs, we two humans and two cats can eat quite well on one chicken a week, and the flock is partnering with me in my permaculture design project.

My usual practice is to raise a small flock of chicks to maturity, harvesting one or two birds per week as needed.  This way I am able to keep birds in the fridge without using any plastic packaging.  I have a large stainless steel bowl with a stainless steel pizza pan as a lid, which keeps the chicken fresh for a week.

Once or twice a year I find it to my advantage to have a chicken in the freezer.  My freezer is small, and I prefer to have live birds on the place that I can harvest for fresh food when I need them, but I always take the last two birds out of the flock together, which leaves me with an extra bird in the fridge for the week.  Last summer I decided to freeze that extra bird.  It dressed out at 9 1/2 pounds and I decided it was large enough to stand in for Turkey at Thanksgiving.

Since I am always aware of the single use plastic issue, I have a stock of several large plastic bags that I use over and over.  I found a bag that I could barely get the bird into, sealed it, and felt like I was good to go.  Except, three weeks later when I was moving it around in the freezer, I stuck my thumb through the plastic and ripped a large hole in the package.  The only thing I could think to do was to wrap the whole thing in a towel.  I found the largest, thickest towel I had, wrapped it well in layer after layer and put it back in the freezer where it stayed until November.

The week-end before Thanksgiving I put the bird in the fridge to thaw, and a couple of days before Thanksgiving day, examined the bird.  It was moist and fresh looking, without a hint of freezer burn.  I breathed a sigh of relief since I was hosting Thanksgiving this year and didn’t have any birds over 4 pounds on the place to take it’s place.

In short, it roasted beautifully, and everyone marveled at how such a large bird could be so tender.

That got me thinking about the plastic issue.  I have been hesitant to freeze meat because I didn’t want to deal with single use plastic...or any plastic for that matter, if I could avoid it.  Now that I know it can be done, I decided to try it a second time.

Today, I took a large piece of well washed natural muslin fabric and wrapped it closely around a newly harvested bird that dressed out at 12 pounds.

I continuously wrapped the fabric around the birds several times until it was well insulated.  Then I started on the next layer.

Using an old, clean bath towel I had on hand, I wound it twice around the bird tightly, making sure to insulate all parts of the bird.

For the final stage, I repeated the process using a larger bath towel.  

None of these towels are what you’d call thick and thirsty.  They are old and worn, and I’m just glad I didn’t have time to cut them into rags like I had been contemplating doing.

But it is noteworthy that using towels to wrap meat for the freezer, adds to the bulk.  If I already had sturdy large plastic bags that I was using over and over, I could simply wrap the bird or meat in a layer of muslin fabric and then place it in the plastic bag.  That would save space.  If I was worried about cross contamination, I would wash the bag as soon as I had removed the bird or meat and then would store it in the freezer.  

I chose muslin fabric because it’s what I had on hand.  I can rewash it, and reuse it multiple times and when it is too worn out to use anymore than I can compost it.

And now a disclaimer.  This idea took form to suit my needs, and my ideals.  I’m only packaging this chicken for my own use.  If I were selling chicken, I would have to handle it differently, and I would have to use different packaging.  There are regulations guiding food production for sale.  But since I’m not providing chicken for public consumption, this works well for me.  I’m more afraid of the prospect of facing an over polluted world than the remote chance that I might get a few extra microbes on my food from wrapping it in cloth instead of plastic.  But as always, I encourage people to do what makes them comfortable.  Use this idea or not, but use your common sense.  Listen to what your gut tells you.

The Saturday Breakfast Serial

This week I’m taking a break from the Serial.  :)  I may start a new one next week.  If you haven’t read the Desk, you may find all 8 chapters under the label “Saturday Breakfast Serial” in the side bar.

Have a great week end.

Tea for Tue: Our Lady of Guadalupe

Two years ago today, I painted this picture on the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  Here is the story that goes with the painting.

The Prayer

Three of us stand with canvases and easels in my friend's tiny home.  Her plush black cat looks on with ancient wisdom shining behind her benevolent and mildly curious gaze.  A stool in the corner holds brushes and paints.  I have never painted before.  Not on canvas.  We begin with a story and a journey.  And we begin with a prayer. Which writes itself in charcoal on my canvas.  We drum the canvas and we bathe it in rose water to invite the prayer in.

Did I mention?  It is the feast day of Guadalupe.

The Vision

I see her in my mind's eye.  She fills the cosmos.  She is woven into the fabric of the universe.  She is so big, I can only see her face and shoulders.  She is too big for me to see all of her.

The Painting

Over the prayer, the painting begins to emerge.  The face takes on shape from the prayer and the rayos, the corona around her, takes on a color I did not expect.  The Roses explode from her dress in all directions, merging with the cosmos.  And her hair...most surprising of all to me...her hair is white.

the Saturday Breakfast Serial-The Desk-Final Chapter

Well, at last we come to the final chapter of The Desk.  If you're new to this feature, or if you just need a recap, you can read all the previous chapters before coming back here to read part 8.

The Desk - Final Chapter

        I put my hand out, and cautiously opened the small drawer inside the desk.  I pulled out the packet and set it on the desk in front of me.  I was remembering what the journal had indicated about the herbs.  There was nothing here that would harm me.  And the words came back into my mind, “There is wisdom of a sort if you will allow the consciousness of those plants to speak to you.”   What did that mean? 

        I had been sitting with the herb packet for 5 minutes and hadn’t felt any strange reactions, so I took the next step, which was to carefully unwrap the packet.  The paper was thick, but soft.  Obviously handmade and it was intricately wrapped and folded around the herbs to make a secure bundle.  There was no fastener.  Only the folds in the paper tucked in on themselves.  Once I discovered the trick to unwrapping it, without tearing the paper, I was able to expose the contents.  The herbs lay in their little paper nest, and again I waited.  I could smell a faint aroma, which seemed to grow stronger within a few minutes.

        I stood up and walked a few steps from the desk.  I wanted to think.  I realized I was more than a little afraid of what might happen.  I began to pace.  Walking helped me to work through my nervous energy and calm my thoughts.

        What does it mean, to allow the consciousness of the plants to speak to me?  I wondered.  I stood a short distance from the packet on the desk and gazed at the mixture of herbs and flowers.  The fragrance seemed to grow stronger, and I felt a memory opening up.  I remembered drinking this tea.  “Oh, it’s tea,” I said aloud.  And I was certain I had loved this tea.  I picked up the packet taking great care not to spill any, and carried it into the kitchen.

        I carefully measured out a small portion of the tea into a small teapot, while the water boiled on the stove.  I sat at the kitchen table while it steeped and poured a tiny cup after a few minutes.  Holding  the cup in both my hands I brought my face close and breathed deeply the fragrant steam.  I took a tiny sip and the memories came flooding back as a door in my mind unlocked and opened up to show me visions of the past.

        I had been the writer of the journal.  The contents of the desk had belonged to me.  I had taken a trip through Europe and after, was scheduled to meet up with a group of scientists in central Asia.  I had been a botanist and part of an expedition to catalogue the plants of the mountain region in Pakistan.  The herbs had been given to me by a holy man we had found living alone in the mountains.  He was a wise man and a healer, and had shared his knowledge freely with me about many of the plants in the region.

        I had wanted to stay.  There was years of work that could’ve been done, but there was unrest in that part of the world, and we were ordered back home.  None of us wanted to go.

        All of these memories surfaced in rapid succession, like watching a movie montage.  I put the cup on the table.  Now I understood why I had lost those two hours.  My mind had not yet been ready to remember, and so it had gone blank.  

        I took another sip of the tea.  I had much to sift through in my memory, and I looked forward to reading the packet of letters tucked away in the desk.

The End

Thanks for reading The Desk on the Saturday Breakfast Serial.  Check back next Saturday.  I haven't decided if I will start a new serialized story or if I'll take a break from it for now.  Let me know your thoughts.  

Winter Whimsy Holiday Arts & Crafts

If you're in the Olympia area on Saturday the 9th, come on downtown to Gallery Boom for the Winter Whimsy Holiday Arts & Craft Show.  I'll be there sharing a table with my friend Sage Adderley-Knox-Author of Invoking Nonna and owner/operator of Sweet Candy Distro & Press, as well as Sage's Blog Tours.

If you're not familiar with Gallery Boom, it plays host to local artists to display their wares in an antique-mall-like setting.  If you're looking for great gifts look locally.  Why not support a local artist! 

Crowd Sourcing for Permaculture Project

Aren't they cute?  Every year, one of my hens does me a favor and decides to go broody.  These are my latest batch of chicks hatched out in August.  They're 4 months old now, and almost as big as the full grown hens.

I have been putting permaculture practices to work on my place and it has made an incredible difference to the land.  

Now I am in the process of getting my certification as a Permaculture Designer.  I will be designing Permaculture Systems to help people provide their own resources sustainably and to help rehabilitate the planet.  I think it's pretty noble work, and now it has called to me.

I'm reaching out to do some fund raising, so I can afford to take the course for this coming year.  A year long permaculture design course, very detailed and very in depth.

Please go to my fundraising page on Go Fund Me, if you'd like to contribute.

Thanks for reading.

Tea for Tue: Tea With Whimsy: Flashes of Insight

Another excerpt from Tea With Whimsy.  This post was from October 20, 2013 and I see that I posted it at 3:38 am.  I guess, I just wasn't sleeping much in those days.  Thankfully, I don't seem to have that issue anymore.  This post was titled...

Flashes of Insight

Yes, it's after 2 am.  This is another of those nights I guess.  At least it's been awhile since I had to write myself to sleep.  I've been sitting here wondering where this story is going.  I'm usually really punchy when I'm writing it, and it comes sometimes like a dream.  That's how I've been writing it down anyway. 

Reading it back, I know it's not that well written...I've done better, but there's just something about having this experience.  I guess you could say it's good medicine.  I suppose I'll keep going and be grateful for it.

So to get back to the story.  I seem to remember we were in the garden looking at the moon...


Her brightness lights the yard and I can feel my cells absorbing the reflected rays, just as the plants all around us are drinking in that marvelous light.  There is a sense of a collective sigh of contentment and it feels like my heart is shining as brightly as that moon.

And then a shudder runs through me, and I feel the air suddenly charged as the world around us lights up with a blinding flash and the explosion of Thunder rips through the air.  The smell of rain comes to us as the wind picks up, and we run for it bursting in through the kitchen door seconds before the heavens open up to drench the land in a mud spattering  downpour.

"My lantern's gone out", I observe aloud.  I set the lantern on the table.  I can't stop shivering and I feel cold all the way into my bones. 

"Your hair!" exclaims Whimsy.

"What about it?" I touch it and hear the crackle of static electricity.

"It's practically standing on end!"  Whimsy declares with a touch of awe in her voice.

My attention is drawn to the window just then and I peer into the blackness which has settled in between flashes.  "Oh look at it pouring!  I'll be drenched if I try to go home now.  You said the storm was hours away"  I chided her.

"That was HOURS ago!" she laughs, and I realize she's right.  That happens every time we get together...it's impossible to keep track as the hours fly by.

"Come over here by the fire!  You haven't stopped shivering since we got back inside."  We stand around the kitchen stove rotating to warm first one side then the other.

After a while I finally stop shivering and I look at the cuckoo clock on the kitchen wall.  "Good Heavens Whimsy!  It's almost 3 am.  I'll bet my cats are in a tizzy with all this thunder!"

"What about your husband?  Does he know you came here?"

"No.  But he's out of town until tomorrow."

"Well then, I guess you'll stay here tonight.  You can go home in the morning, after the storm lets up."

"If the storm lets up by then", I reply.

"Come on", says Whimsy.  "I'll get the cot and set it up here next to the stove and you will be warm as toast.  Then you can go home after breakfast."

In less than 20 minutes I'm snuggled down on the cot, wrapped in wool blankets.  The fire pops a little.  I listen to the creaks and noises of Whimsy's house.  The clock ticks rhythmically and sounds its cuckoos at 3.  The storm continues outside as I relax and the dreams begin before I'm fully asleep.

Thanks for reading.  Join me next Tuesday for a little retro Tea With Whimsy.