Temptation

My dairy-free plans were foiled by Cadbury Cream Eggs on clearance, two for 25 cents.

Now that I've licked my fingers clean, I'm back on the wagon. I'm roasting veggies for vegan lasagna at this very moment. Hope it turns out tasty, because I'm seriously jonesing for a cheese pizza.

Coal Camp

We live in old coal camp house. For those of you who aren't from Appalachia or familiar with the region's history, coal camps consist of mostly of small, identical homes constructed to house the miners employed by the coal companies. Basically, the coal companies built their own towns, complete with "company stores" which accepted payment, sometimes exclusively, in the form of scrip, the Monopoly money some companies paid.

The companies owned the houses, the stores, and often the local government. This particular form of oppression was largely left by the wayside by the 1950's (though don't get me started on the long arm of Big Coal in the state of West Virginia) and the camp houses sold, mostly to miners. Our particular house was purchased by Fuzzy's paternal grandpa, Matt, who had been a miner all his life, and Edie, his wife. They raised three sons and a nephew in its 5 small rooms. When I get frustrated with this house, with its utter lack of insulation, with the crumbling plaster ceilings or the overabundance of faux wood paneling, I think of Matt and Edie. I think of how proud they must of been to own this house and how much care they took with it.


These peonies are pushing through the soil now. They were planted by Edie at least thirty years ago, and are still going strong. In a few weeks, the flowers will bloom.

Few of the residents of our little coal camp work in the mines today. Most work in town, at the university or the drug companies. The train tracks that once ran past are now a barely discernible path through the woods, and no coal dust smears our windows. Still, this little touch of beauty in what was once a hardscrabble place makes me a little more appreciative of our easy lives.

I still can't stand that fucking paneling, though.

I Heart Cheese

So I need to lose at least 15 pounds before the wedding in June. I've been telling myself this since last October, but it's just now actually getting though my thick (fatty) skull. My mom, in all her proselytizing glory, has convinced me to give up dairy, at least till June.

Fuzzy and I took a stab at a vegan diet for the month of January and were moderately successful, though pizza and chocolate chip cookies from Aldi ultimately doomed that attempt. That's the thing, though. The vast majority of "bad" foods I indulge in contain dairy. So hopefully, cutting out dairy will take care of the pizza/ice-cream/sour-cream-and-onion-anything unholy trinity that is largely resposible for my current state of bloat.

It won't be easy without cheese, at least in the beginning. Cheese is pretty special to me. In childhood, I had many meals consisting entirely of cheddar cheese, Triscuits, and sliced apples. But I know I can do it. And I know I will be healthier for it. And I also know I will probably have a cheese pizza the day after the wedding. But once you know you can do without it, it's so much easier to cut back. Go listen the Colleen's Podcast, Life After Cheese, at compassionatecooks.com for a great take on giving up the cultured cow juice.

In the meantime, most of our meals will be out of the pages of Vegan with a Vengeance, by Isa Chandra Moskowitz (the Hijiki-Chickpea Salad is fabulous!), and I'll probably be making enough Chocolate P-Nut Butter Squares from Dreena Burton's Vive le Vegan! to more than make up for a few cheese pizzas.

Rattlesnake Plantain

After returning from the land of Lexuses (Lexi?) and 7,000 square foot houses, Fuzzy and I spent Easter weekend in our 140 square foot camper, drinking American beer and trying to stay warm despite the traditional West Virginia Easter snow. At night, a few good friends came out to help us stoke the bonfire and drink the rest of the apple-cinnamon moonshine, and we all had a great time.
During the daylight hours, Fuzzy and I explored the woods around our camp. The only wildflowers up this early were violets, but I did come across lots of this interesting little plant, the Rattlenake Plantain.

Later, it will send up a stalk of small white flowers, but really, it's the everygreen foliage that's interesting.

"Following the Doctrine of Signatures, the plants were used to treat snake bites. Since there appears to be no special agent in the Rattlesnake Plantain to act as a remedy, it must be assumed most victims recovered only because there bodies were able to fight off the poison." So writes Leonard Adkins in "Wildflowers of the Appalachian Trail," a great little guide with gorgeous pictures.

I can't wait to see what has sprung up in the woods next weekend!

Stress

I survived northern Virginia and three days of wedding planning with my mom. I had a mini breakdown while looking at invitations in Michael's, just thinking about how much is left to be done and how stupid I've been for putting it off so long.

My mom has really been awesome, thinking up logistical solutions and just generally helping me barrel through the wedding industry crap. We ended up buying simple brown paper cards, on the front of which my mom blockprinted a fern. We printed the actual invitation on a vellum insert, and my mom printed this little salamander on the card underneath, so it will show
through.



They look great and cost a total of about $35, so I'm pretty pleased. Thanks, Mom!

Road Trip

I'm off to visit my parents in Virginia for a few days. It's always a little odd to go from our old coal camp community of square little houses and modest yards to the reaching McMansions of VA. The blandness of the developments definitely gives me a new appreciation for the junkyards and hunting shacks of West Virginia (not that we are without our McMansions).

When I get back, Fuzzy and I will be out at the property for a few days, hopefully with camera in tow, so there won't be any updates for a bit. See ya next week, and stay tuned for pics of the camper in all its glory!

Happy Campers

The ad in the Bulletin Board said "1976 camper, good condition, $800." We called the number listed and took off down the road, following Fuzzy's hastily scribbled directions. We spend a good amount of time just driving the back roads of our area, but I'd never been down this particular road before. It was wet and rutted, just barely above the level of the creek that flowed orange (due to mine drainage) to our right and a pasture just beginning to green up rose to oak woods on our left.

We passed a large dogtrot cabin with it's little clutch of outbuildings and turned off the road through an open metal gate, down a steep trail took us down to an old trailer perched by the side of an unpolluted creek. We could see the camper, white with an orange and red stripe, sitting down a mud path past the trailer. A big chow mix dog greeted us, followed by a smallish man of indeterminate age. He could have been anywhere between 35 and 60, with leathery skin and long, dark hair. After shaking our hands and pointing out a tree stump he'd just scared a black bear off, he showed up back to the camper.

Mildew streaked down the metal sides and the front had a slightly, um, crushed appearance. Inside, though, it was snug and dry, and while there was a definite excess of wood panelling, I really like the layout of the interior. So, with a $200 deposit and the promise to come retrieve the camper the next day, we were one step closer to living at PineTop!