A Delicious Way to Save the Planet

What if I told you that there was a way to significantly reduce your carbon footprint, improve your health and advance animal welfare without any real loss to yourself, would you take it? This month, the media is full of stories about the Veganuary Challenge – an annual attempt to encourage folks to adopt a plant-based diet.

While I applaud mainstream media’s support of the challenge; amidst the wonderful and colourful recipes, there is little to explain exactly why a shift to a more plant-based diet is a good idea. I would like to rectify this here. The topic is far too large to tackle in a single post, so I shall include links for you to follow up, should you like to know more.

**Well, I had to get your attention somehow** Image: Mike Von on Unsplash

The price of meat

Meat is expensive. Yet it does not reflect its true cost in terms of the health of the individual and medical costs. Excessive meat consumption (the average American consumes 124kg per annum) ‘increases risks of heart disease, cancer, kidney disease, osteoporosis and all sorts of other unpleasantness’. (Dave Goulson, The Garden Jungle). Processed meats are also a contributing factor to obesity with all the health complications that brings.

The cost to the planet

These pale into insignificance when balanced against the impact meat production has on the planet. According to an article in Nature, switching to a plant-based diet could more than half our emissions. That is an incredible result for a low-cost solution. In addition, land dedicated to meat production itself affects the Earth negatively.

With two-thirds of farmland devoted to animal pasture and a third of the remaining third to producing feed for those animals, it results in about ’76 per cent of the Earth’s farmland … currently being used for meat production whether directly or indirectly.’ (David Gould)

Why does this matter? For three reasons. Intensive farming methods have a damaging and often irrevocable effect on our soil; depleting its nutrients and destroying the wildlife that ensures its good health. It is the main driver of deforestation: land is cleared for grazing cattle or for growing crops like soya on which livestock feed. Lastly, farm animals like cattle produce large amounts of methane – they suffer from wind – and the manure they produce, if not properly dealt with, can lead to runoff contaminating water supplies.

And for the 750 million humans who cannot obtain sufficient food, it is a terribly imbalanced use of land.

Not all animals are equal

When we work out the ratio of feed to meat produced, chickens come out a firm favourite. It takes a mere 2-3 kg of grain to create 1 kg of meat. A cow, however, will consume a staggering 7-20kg (David Gould). This is a lot of food that might otherwise have been distributed more equitably. So if the thought of giving up meat entirely is too daunting, it might be an idea to shift to more poultry or lamb and if the urge for beef is too strong, go for the grass-fed option.

**Happy chickens** Image: Thomas Iversen on Unsplash

While David Gouslon recommends the eminently sensible option of eating road kill, I doubt many of us have the stomach or butchery skills to take that up. It is worth considering eating more wild meat like venison, however, as herds are regularly culled to ensure the remainder do not starve. Wild animals, at least, have the pleasure of a good life before they are killed for consumption.

A nation of animal lovers

I live in the UK and we are famously a nation of animal lovers, but our affection, it seems, is restricted to a very limited number of species and particularly those we adopt as pets. When it comes to live-stock, our concerns for animal welfare have a habit of disappearing. That said, our own country’s standards are very high, but much of our meat is imported from other, less scrupulous places.

Intensive or factory farming methods are extremely profitable, but their profits come at the expense of the animals. Even the more animal friendly farms are far from ideal. Since much of this is disturbing and often shocking, I’m not going to write about it here. But if you would like to understand better how your meat is produced, you may like to view some of the documentaries shown on this link https://www.peta.org.uk/blog/vegan-documentaries/

**Easily as cute as a puppy** Image: Luke Stackpoole

Moving to a plant-based diet

How far you move to a plant-based diet, is of course up to you. You may feel that you cannot manage with meat and I respect that. Though I would ask you to consider taking care to source meat and dairy of the highest standard, preferably organic. Here, the organic label goes with much stricter animal welfare requirements.

If you would like to consider moving towards a vegan-style diet, I would recommend taking it slowly. Our stomachs take a little while to adjust to such changes. Meatless Mondays are a great way to start and gather more days as you become confident in your cooking.

Ten years ago, if you said you were a vegan, people looked at you askance and thought you a little crazy. There were few or no options in the shops and eating out was an impossibility. As a consequence, I confess, I remained a pescatarian – being vegan was just too hard.

Today, things couldn’t be more different. Even our favourite country pub – the bastion of the meat and two veg menu, now has a selection of plant based options. Supermarkets have whole aisles devoted to meat substitutes and plant-based ready meals for those short on time.

Though I still eat some fish, my diet is predominantly plant based. And over the years, I have found substitutes for all the things I loved to eat. There are now non-dairy options for milk, butter, yogurt, cream, ice-cream and even some cheeses with no loss of flavour. Eggs in recipes can be substituted with everything from flax seed to apple puree, so cakes are definitely back on the menu. I have yet to find anything that I cannot make and the chemistry experiment element of it always makes me smile.

No more shades of brown

My first vegetarian cook book was from the famous Cranks restaurant and all the recipes seemed to involve something brown. They were delicious, but visually a little less appealing. Contemporary plant-based cookery books are liable to be a riot of colour – since we now have access to an almost unlimited choice of fruit and vegetables of every hue. We do not need to compromise on taste or presentation if we choose the animal free option.

**Anything but dull**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

I hope that this month you will give plant based foods a try. If you need a little help, there are endless recipes available online and I’m including the BBC one here, as they tend to be very reliable. For inspiring ideas for all abilities and budgets, check out: https://www.bbc.co.uk/food/occasions/veganuary Who knows, you may discover a whole new way to cook. And, you will be consuming food that does you good and the planet good too.

Look Both Ways Before You Start the Year.

Most of us will find ourselves this month looking, like its namesake, Janus, both backwards and forwards. Television shows will highlight the successes and failures of the year; we shall ponder our own highs and lows and as we make resolutions or start filling our pristine diaries, planning or simply hoping for a better future.

2021 was definitely a strange year and the temptation is to see it as one of endless lock-downs, disasters and civil unrest. From a news point of view, it certainly was. From a personal vantage point, it was something else entirely.

Reasons to be thankful

Last year, having received an additional wall calendar, I decided to dedicate it as a gratitude diary. Each day, I would fill in one event or experience that brought me joy. With only a couple of exceptions, I managed to complete something for every entry. I took as my guide Alice Earle’s wise saying that: Every day may not be good, but there is good in every day.

**My gratitude diary**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Most of my entries were hardly newsworthy: a coffee with a friend, a trip to a nearby beauty spot, or an act of kindness. Yet, these are the stuff of life. Looking back over the year, I saw that it was filled with moments of joy amidst all the stress and restrictions. It was a good year.

Sustaining hope

For me, knowing that happiness can be found in the most challenging of circumstances gives me not only solace but hope. We need to feed our souls with a belief in the goodness of others and the possibility of positive outcomes, otherwise we will shrivel into despair. The world has never been just nor easy. The most cursory look at history tells us that. Yet it is still a wonderful place. Like Janus again, we can find balance by looking at it both ways and centre ourselves somewhere in the middle. By developing the practice of gratitude, we give ourselves the best defence against life’s ‘slings and arrows’.

This year, I received two wonderful calendars again and I knew exactly what to do with the second. And when this year ends, I shall look forward to reading its entries.

**Moominmamma would approve**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Looking forward

Two years ago, when I pondered what 2020 might bring, I did so with great optimism. By February, my diary was packed with planned visits from friends and family, a literary festival in Oxford and my own family’s reunion in the US. Of course, none of those things came to pass. This year, I am a little more circumspect.

And this is the problem with trying to guess the future. We often over-estimate how good or bad it is and forget to focus on the only time that actually counts, which is now.

**A cause for celebration** Image: Artturi Jalli on Unsplash

Perhaps we should be grateful to our current circumstances for reminding us of this. We literally cannot make plans only tentative goals. Whatever we schedule, we must be willing to change or rearrange or even cancel. This is hard. No-one wishes to be reminded of how slender a grasp one has on one’s life and those prone to be more controlling (as I confess I used to be) find this the hardest of all. We rant, we rage and some even throw tantrums – but it hardly changes anything.

But if we can embrace the current uncertainty as a metaphor for all of life, we can start to enjoy everything that it offers regardless of whether it meets our expectations or not. Of course, we need to make provisional plans for reunions and holidays, but we need not rely on them being fulfilled. There is a place for hope but not, I think, for expectation.

Exchanging expectation for hope

When we expect things to happen: our parcel to arrive the next day, our future vacation to be a success and our plans to go without a hitch, we are tempting fate. We are also likely to be sorely disappointed when things go awry, feeling somehow cheated of our ‘promised joy’.

If, however, we take the more humble approach of simply hoping for a good outcome, our disappointment is likely to be less keen and our ability to recover greater. Hope is a robust thing, as noted in Emily Dickinson’s wonderful poem: ‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – (314)

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

Hope is not demanding. It simply continues through times of promise and adversity and ‘never stops – at all -‘ whereas thwarted expectation often ends right there with its accompanying misery.

So, let us hope this new year brings us all that our hearts yearn for, but should it not fulfil our desires, let us remember, with gratitude, all that it has provided.

Let the Holidays Begin!

Since this post will be published on Christmas Eve, I would just like to wish you every happiness tomorrow. The following week is New Year’s and despite the fun squashing presence of the Corona virus, I hope you will be doing your best to celebrate then also. As for me, I’m going to sneak a little break from the blog to enjoy our holidays.

Our celebrations will be in a minor key, but no less harmonious for that. After all the excitement of the build-up to Christmas, it will be rather lovely to enjoy a delicious lunch with my husband and a trip to the park or beach with the dog.

So all that remains is to wish you all a healthy and happy Christmas and a New Year filled with adventures.

I hope you will join me again in 2022.

Much love, Karen

**Decking the halls** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like … Well, You Know What.

**Christmas greenery** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A friend once wittily remarked that this year, December has only two weeks and January has six. It certainly feels like it. I’d barely cracked open the first door of my Moomin advent calendar when I felt catapulted into the middle of the month. But, surely, that is the point. By filling our days with decorating, gift-giving and feasting, we are able to take our minds off the icy winds that penetrate even the warmest jumpers and the rain laden clouds that darken even the shortest of days. Through filling our homes with greenery and light and colour, we stave off misery and cold. January only has a brief celebration on the eve of it coming into being and then nothing. No wonder it feels long.

O Christmas tree!

In our family, the Christmas tree goes up on the first weekend of December. It marks the beginning of festivities and serves as a poignant reminder of all those we love who have contributed decorations but who we cannot necessarily see. In the past, this was mainly my husband’s American relatives and my American friend; now it includes our own children who now also live ‘across the pond’.

**Our family tree** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Our tree would win no prizes for style; it has no designer elements, just a higgledy-piggledy profusion of ornaments stitched with skill or crafted at Sunday school with glitter and glue. Yet, each one is precious and as we hold the ornament in our hands before placing it on the tree, we reflect on the person who gave it and smile at the memories they invoke. Often, it is a bitter sweet experience. Our children are grown, our days of adventurous travel have ended, but the tree is a symbol of resurrection and new life. So, who knows what the dawning year will bring?

Deck the halls

Before Christmas trees, it was traditional to bring evergreens into the home at the time of the winter solstice. From earliest history, they were seen as harbingers of hope: heralding the sun god’s return and with him the growth of new crops. Others viewed them as protection against evil forces and sickness. (History.com) Evergreens are also associated with eternal life (since, unlike deciduous trees they never ‘die’). For Christians, this marries with the arrival of the Christ child and his promise of immortality.

Though it is not necessary to ascribe our greenery with any greater symbolism than that of Nature’s ability to provide beauty at any time of the year. When I went to pick my greens for the mantle piece this last weekend, the rain was mizzling and the skies a deep grey, but bundled up in coat and scarf, it was a pleasure to pick and snip what I needed, inhaling the clean scent of pine and damp earth beneath my feet.

**Bringing in the greens**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Once arranged, the lounge felt lighter and more festive. The centrally heated air took on a fresher perfume. The twin focal points of greenery and fire place served as promises of warmth both now and in the months to come.

Paper play

Christmas always provides the best excuse for paper play. This year, I went into recycling mode and used some sheets from old books I had been given by a local bookshop. I was able to make baubles and pretty ornaments to hang from the window. No doubt, they will be packed away for next year … unless some new design takes my fancy.

**Literary decorations!** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

When using old books, do keep in mind that really old ones have fragile papers. The ones pictured above held together – just – but I doubt they could manage a lot of handling.

As I ran out of Christmas cards at the eleventh hour, I also took to recycling some old ones into a new design.

**Upcycled cards**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A good scalpel, some origami and a few embellishments brought these old cards to life.

Ornaments

No Christmas is complete without ornaments for the tree or indeed any object that will hold them. To maximise my cards’ usefulness, I made tiny origami angels complete with thread so that once the message was read, they could be attached to the tree.

With a little help from the inimitable Su Blackwell, I even made a teeny paper doll for my ‘pear tree’. It was a privilege to meet this astonishingly talented paper artist and if you have a moment, you may like to look at this link to see how transforming books into art is really done. https://www.boredpanda.com/illuminated-book-sculpture-su-blackwell/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic

My little doll looks rather sad in comparison, but since her latest book contains templates and instructions, I shall practice a little more!

**First attempt.** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Handmade with love

Conscious as we all are that over-consumption is costly to the planet, I made a decision this year to give only one gift per person and wherever possible, hand made. I started planning in about October, as I’m not as speedy as I’d like to be!

Some of my favourite gifts have been those specific to the holidays. These are things that are brought out year after year and the skill and kindness of the giver remembered each time. Perhaps I could do the same? Working on the principle that everyone can use an extra seasonal something, I decided to make wreaths for those who lived close by and brooches for those that needed posting.

With a little help from YouTube (well, quite a lot actually) I downloaded a poinsettia template and watched the instructions. A trip to Hobbycraft fulfilled the supply side and then all I had to do was make them. The wreaths seemed to need a little extra, so I made some embroidered leaves that I had seen in a magazine. Several weeks later, they were ready to deliver.

**Wreath detail** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Since they were assembled using only a little glue from a glue gun, the wreaths can easily be repurposed for other seasons and the brooches are perfect for autumn too.

Looking back, I see that it has been a very creative Christmas season. Sewing, card making, gathering greens and adding decorations has certainly made the time pass pleasantly. Next week, I shall have to focus of wrapping the final presents and before we know it, Christmas will be here.

And then, I shall have to think about cooking…

Sugar and Spice and All Things Nice – That’s What Christmas is Made Of.

**Flavours of Christmas**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

What is Christmas without the glorious flavours of sugar, spice and exotic dried fruits? Almost all our traditional cakes and treats contain them: marzipan, fruit cake, pies and candies. Yet, the very things that fill our trollies and cupboards at this time of the year, were once the preserve of the seriously rich. We feast like the emperors of old.

Though I knew that sugar and spices were always valuable, I only had the haziest conception of their histories. So I thought a little investigating might be in order. If nothing else, this post might help as a conversation starter over the mince pies.

Sugar

This most ubiquitous of ingredients was once so precious that it was stored in its own safe ( The Sugar Association). Though humans have been chewing sugar cane from earliest times, it was first refined in India around 100AD. Sugar was originally used as a medicine, then as a sweetener.

As it became more widely available, consumption grew exponentially. Unfortunately, this meant that even more slaves, from the Canary Islands to Cuba, were required to grow it. Some of those opposed to slavery boycotted the product, choosing the more ethically sourced maple syrup instead.

**A sugar loaf or cone. Little pieces were cut off using a special tool called ‘sugar snips’ right through to the 20th century.** Image: By Petr Adam Dohnálek, Wikimedia

With slavery becoming (thankfully) obsolete in the Caribbean in the early 19th century, European producers turned to an alternative source of sweetener in sugar beet. Discovered by Andreas Marggraff in 1747 and made commercially viable by his student, Franz Achard, Europe acquired a sugar it could produce close to home. (Saveur.com)

In the UK, sugar beet is farmed in East Anglia and if you want to know more about its production, here’s the link: https://www.silverspoon.co.uk/field-to-spoon If you are looking for a fair trade and environmentally sustainable product, sugar derived from sugar beet is it.

Rather ironically, sugar has moved from a sought after medicine to a health hazard. But if we remember its original worth and use it sparingly, we will be able to have our cake and eat it too!

Spice

There are so many essential Christmas spices that it is difficult to choose just one. However, if I could only have a single spice, it would have to be cinnamon. This warm, subtle flavour enriches everything from Christmas cake to mulled wine. Uncooked, the quills make a great decoration – powdered and sprinkled onto food, it adds a certain je ne sais quoi!

Cinnamon is harvested from the bark of the Cinnamomum tree or if you want a more fancy product, from the trunk itself. Sticks of cinnamon add a spicy punch to fruits and beverages, whilst the more economical powder is an essential baking ingredient. Though, as I have just discovered, it is used across the globe in savoury dishes too. Something new to try.

Unlike sugar, cinnamon can be used without a twinge of guilt. Quite the opposite, in fact. Cinnamon is positively medicinal: possessing antimicrobial, antifungal and anti-oxidant qualities. Although, sadly, claims that it helps you lose weight are unsubstantiated (MasterClass).

Cinnamon is produced right across South East Asia with ‘true’ cinnamon coming from Ceylon. Each of the four types of culinary cinnamon available have their own distinctive flavours, so if you really want to know this spice, try each of them and find the one you prefer.

As I was doing a little more research on the topic, I came across a great tip from The Tasting Table. If you want your home to smell extra Christmassy, boil some cinnamon sticks in your kitchen. Personally, I think I would add some apple juice, cloves and star anise. That way I can enjoy both the flavour and the scent.

All things nice …

The final part of the Christmas food triumvirate is dried fruits. Where would our festive cakes be without raisins, sultanas, and currants? (I would add: figs, dates and apricots, but there is only so much one can write about). In warmer climes where grape vines flourish, their fruits have been dried and stored for millennia. Europeans, however, living in the cooler North, had to wait for the returning Crusaders to bring them home. (They also brought sugar from Jerusalem). The Crusades may have been a military catastrophe, but they proved to be a culinary triumph.

**Vine fruits – what’s not to love?**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Many people, myself included, are puzzled by the distinction between the three vine fruits, so here’s the explanation.

Raisins are sourced from a variety of grapes. They are dried for around three weeks, in which time they turn a deep, dark brown.
Sultanas come from green seedless grapes, are coated in a drying solution and dried for a shorter time – hence their lighter colour.
Currants are made from small, black , seedless grapes and again dried for three weeks. Of the three, currants tend to pack the most flavour. (Healthline)

Sugar, spice and vine fruits make the most delicious combination. I’ll be planning to introduce them to each other when I make a vegan Christmas cake this weekend. Yes, I know I am rather behind. But a fruit cake, even if it is not ‘well fed’, is still delicious. And if I add to that the knowledge that each and every one of these ingredients would have been prized only a little while ago, I think it will taste even better.

Mono-tasking: Focusing on One Thing at a Time

With Christmas rushing towards us like a tornado and the to-do list expanding exponentially, it is tempting to fall into the multi-tasking mode. How else, you ask, are we to get everything done? Well, rather counter intuitively, the best way to get to the end of that list is to take each task one at a time.

When my boys were young, I prided myself on being the queen of multi-tasking: packing lunch boxes, signing forms, making breakfast and entertaining the dog all in the same breath. Time was the enemy that had to be defeated; yet ultimately, the only thing that was defeated was me.

**Is that the time already?** Image: Sonja Langford on Unsplash

I’d like to say that I’d learned my lesson, but I am still a work in progress. Yesterday, after making pesto, putting the pasta on to boil and making garlic bread to go under the grill, I thought I would squeeze the washing up into the pasta’s cooking time. The faint aroma of charcoal alerted me to the fact the the garlic bread did not need ten minutes (but did need watching!) My sense of smell saved us from disaster, but reminded me once again that doing too many things at the same time often means we do them badly. Worse, we may have to do them all over again or spend time rectifying our errors.

Do I really have to do this?

Media, magazines and talented friends all make us think that our Christmas should be worthy of a Country Living cover. We slave over elaborate meals and table settings, attempt to wrap gifts perfectly and deck our halls with sumptuous greens. In an exquisite magazine a friend just lent me, they suggest adding gold leaf to your cookies (doesn’t everyone?), embroidering your napkins and knitting your own lampshade (!). These all make for stunning illustrations, but when we see too much of these things, we can feel overwhelmed and defeated.

**Doesn’t your Christmas look like this?** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Don’t get me wrong. I love these sumptuous Christmas editions and sometimes am even inspired to take on the odd project (well, the simple ones). The problem only arises when we feel that to choose not to do all these things makes us a) an inept parent b) hostess or c)Scrooge.

It is worth remembering that the purpose of all the media excess is to make you buy more. It is certainly not intended to help you have a better Christmas.

It is time to recalibrate.

Making a list, checking it twice

Focusing on a single task while a dozen others swirl through your mind is unlikely to be successful. We need to go back to the good old list and decide what really has to be done. There will be some non-negotiables: food shopping; feeding ourselves and guests; organising gifts and making our homes presentable. Everything else, as they say, is jam.

For the rest, I would advise the Marie Kondo test. Does it bring you joy? If not, ditch it. Loads of people I know do not wish to do cards. They may prefer a phone call or a cheery text or simply greetings face-to-face. (Like so many traditions, this one too had a commercial edge. It was established in the mid 19th century to encourage the public to support the newly formed Post Office.)

With time limited, focus on those things you love and put them at the top of the list. Mine would definitely include making cards, gifts and decorations. These are not chores but pleasures. Making breakfast muffins for Christmas morning would be nice, but I think I’ll put that at the bottom.

**A manageable list**! Image: Thomas Bormans

Mindful mono-tasking

With a reasonable list made, now is the time for work. Ideally, you want to give ample time for each individual task. This may mean starting earlier than you normally would, but it also means you should be able to enjoy it. Fluster and panic seldom make anything pleasurable.

The greatest paradox that has arisen from my MS and inevitable slowing of my body is this: it is rare that I do not manage to achieve everything I’d planned. Without question, I need to be more organised – and my desk is always littered with to-do lists – but I also find that focusing very carefully on the job in hand allows me to do it more efficiently than I used to.

Which is where the mindfulness comes in. Meditation is a kind of brain training. It involves the repeated practice of disciplining the mind to focus on whatever you are doing – whether that is breathing, invoking loving-kindness or even peeling a vegetable.

And when we bring our whole attention to a task, we do it quickly and well. Even better, it doesn’t feel like work any more -rather something that absorbs our attention. Time slides into a sort of no-time and all sense of urgency is lost and with it any sense of panic.

Trust me. I am no Zen master and often tumble into the turmoil of rush and stress. But those times are fewer and further between, which is a very good thing, as they are the foods this illness feeds upon.

**Calm and beautiful!** Image: Jessica Delp on Unsplash

Approaching each item on your list with focus and gratitude enables you to have a little extra time to light a candle and contemplate what the season is really about. When you do that, I suspect, you will enjoy it all the more.

Meditations on a Carrot

A few weeks ago, I was happily munching on my carrot sticks, when I started to wonder how they got there. What was their journey from seed to my plate? This is not something that I normally do when eating, but I had been prompted by two rather different sources: one an article in the Waitrose magazine and the other, an excellent meditation book.

This unlikely duo had one thing in common: each wanted us to have a healthier and more grateful approach to our food. The Waitrose article was focusing on the effect of food waste and climate change and gave the rather chilling comment that, ‘If we stopped wasting food in UK homes for a single day, the environmental impact would be equivalent to 14,000 cars being removed from the road for an entire year.’ With approximately ‘a third of all food grown globally currently wasted,’ (Colin Butfield), we are looking at a staggering misuse of energy and resources.

The second prompt came from Gelong Thubten’s excellent A Monk’s Guide to Happiness, where he encouraged the reader to take some time to think about what they eat. Essentially, it was the basis for a gratitude meditation: gratitude not only for the food itself but for all those involved in its production.

Which is when I realised that if we combine the two, the outcome would be optimal. We would have a proper appreciation for what ends up on our table and as a consequence would be unlikely to waste it. A true win-win.

**A carrot rainbow** Image: Stephen Ausmus

The life cycle of a carrot

I’ve learned a lot about carrots while researching this post and I’d like to share with you some of what I have learned. Firstly, carrots are biennial, meaning that their whole life cycle takes two years to complete. Once their seeds are planted, they take between 80 and 120 days to grow into the root vegetable that we love and this marks the end of the first cycle. If we leave them in the ground, however, they will grow beautiful umbels. Their flowers change sex during their development, so that the pollen is released before the stigma is ready for fertilization. Once the seeds are formed, they drop to the ground – ready to make new carrots. Miraculous!

**The beautiful carrot flower** Image: Christian Fischer

Growing carrots

I confess to having shied away from growing carrots as they are notoriously awkward – requiring exactly the right soil and being prone to certain pests. Thankfully, the professionals have not been put off. But growing carrots, like all farming involves a great deal of effort. The soil must be prepared correctly as stones and obstacles will cause the carrots to split into unattractive shapes. Up to 30% of crops are often lost this way.

The soil must also be nourished with fertilizers and seedlings thinned to the correct distance to ensure optimal growth. Organic carrots will need even more intensive care, as they cannot rely on the artificial support of commercial fertilizers and pesticides.

And all the time they are growing, the soil will need to be kept clear of weeds to stop the plants from being choked or starved of nutrients and light. Anyone with their own little vegetable patch knows how much work this all is.

If all goes well, you will have a plentiful harvest. Picking by hand, as was done until fairly recently in the West and still in poorer parts of the world, is back-breaking labour.

**Harvesting carrots the old fashioned way** Image: Los Angeles Times

Farm to table

Of course, that only gets the crop out of the ground. It still needs to be washed, sorted, packaged and distributed to a store near you. This sweet little video shows you the whole story and if, like me, you love these kinds of things, you will forgive the child-centred approach.

For all you Blue Peter fans out there. You know who you are!

Mindful eating

I hope that I haven’t exhausted your patience with all this information about the journey of a carrot from seed to plate. But in a way, that is the point. When we are fully aware of all the effort put into our food, we will, I hope appreciate it. Mindful eating is all about savouring every mouthful and acknowledging and being thankful to the food itself and all those who have brought it to us.

While eating mindfully, we do not look at our phone, read or work. We honour the moment. Ideally, we will listen to our bodies and eat only what and when it is required and if possible, in the company of those we love. And if we are eating mindfully, we will also avoid foods that are bad for us. Both our physical and mental health will thank us for that. For a gentle introduction to mindful eating, you may like to read this article: https://www.mindful.org/6-ways-practice-mindful-eating/

Thanksgiving

This Thursday in the US, it is Thanksgiving. The festival was established as an act of gratitude for the native American Indians who, through teaching the early settlers about local food sources, saved them from starvation. It didn’t work out so well for the native Americans, but their kindness was exemplary.

We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in the UK, but I would hope that we can establish every meal as an opportunity for the giving of thanks. This whole post has focused on the humble carrot – a small component of any meal – but if we can briefly recall that each and every item on our plate has had a similar investment, then perhaps we can express our gratitude by wasting not a single bit.

**A warming bowl of carrot and lentil soup** **to be savoured**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

I Believe in Miracles

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.
Albert Einstein

A dear friend gave me a book of daily, inspirational quotes and this was one of them. Most of the quotes I’ve read have been impressive and thought provoking, but this one kept nudging me for attention like a new puppy. Einstein gives only two options for living: to view the world as miraculous or completely miracle free. The last option seems just too depressing, but can we learn to see miracles all around us? At the risk of sounding naive, I think that we can.

**A perfect autumn leaf** Image: Tim Hufner on Unsplash

Everyday miracles

Our first obstacle to overcome is the popular view that miracles are exceptional. The Cambridge Dictionary defines a miracle as: ‘an unusual and mysterious event that is thought to have been caused by a god because it does not follow the usual laws of nature’. This certainly applies to the miracles in, say, the Bible, but what if miracles were much more everyday affairs (though no less magical).

When I looked for images of miracles online – almost all were of nature. For here, wonders occur every single day. With my dog Hermione wanting to be outside all the time, I am getting more than the average exposure to the beauty of the natural world. And without question it is worth the numb toes and chilly fingers that accompany immersion in the elements at this time of year.

**Sunset** Image: Dawid Zawila on Unsplash

Some of the clouds this morning had the frayed, liquid edges that you get when dropping ink onto wet, watercolour paper. How does this occur on the great canvas of the sky? I have no idea.

The leaves on the tree opposite my back garden have flamed into vibrant reds and orange and are only now starting to drop. The scientific explanation for this is, ‘a compound called abscisic acid triggers a seal to develop at the base of the leaves, before they fall off. This reduces water reaching the leaf and traps the chemicals remaining in the leaves. They gradually break down, changing the colour of each leaf before it drops to the ground.’ (www.kew.org) Good to know. But does it make it any less marvellous? I think not.

Einstein, after all, was the foremost scientist of the 2oth century and he did not see anything as less miraculous because it followed the laws of science. If anything, advanced science is itself a mystery that keeps eluding our comprehension and categorisation. Einstein himself tried, and failed, to construct a theory of everything. The closer we get to an answer, the further it spins away.

**How do you quantify a human touch?** Image: Liane Metzler

We live in a material world and one which we suppose we can control. The cold outside is rebuffed by central heating within; clean water is piped through taps; food is made bountiful by modern farming techniques. Like gods, we command and dominate nature, bending her to our will.

But our cleverness, like that of Daedelus, may not always lead to the desired outcome. If we are willing to relinquish this need always to explain and regulate, we open ourselves to the wonders that elude measurement.

I believe in miracles.

The morning sun scaling the walls of the horizon is a miracle.

The moon standing sentinel in the black of night is a miracle.

Miracles are everywhere. We do not have to wait long or look far to witness one.

Discovering that Spark of Joy

Some years ago, I received a copy of Marie Kondo’s wonderful, The Life -Changing Magic of Tidying. This was perhaps a comment on my rather laissez-faire approach to housework and intended as a prompt to improve my habits. If it was, it worked. I dutifully set about reading and taking notes. What initially seemed a sweet book on tidiness soon transformed into a very wise reflection on our relationship with possessions.

To truly cherish the things that are important to you, you must first discard those that have outlived their purpose.
Marie Kondo The Life-changing Magic of Tidying Up

The essence of her magic is this: to let go of anything that no longer brings you joy and value that which does. Simple? In theory. In practice, it was going to take a bit of work.

First steps

My book, I discovered, is already a decade old and my initial tidying efforts seriously lapsed. Prompted by my son’s lovely girlfriend to take a look at Kondo’s Netflix series, I was inspired to try again.

Not everything had been lost: my wardrobe is still arranged by colour and my clothing drawers essentially orderly – though I think a little refolding may be required. The genius of Kondo’s folding method is that items are stored vertically rather than laid on top of each other. She’s even provided a handy video to show you how.

Letting go

With my renewed determination to ‘Marie Kondo’ my house, I was first obliged to do the most difficult part: letting go of all the things that I no longer needed. This goes against the grain for most of us, since what we possess acquires value purely because it is ours. We are not designed for abundance. We are programmed for adversity. Except, in prosperous countries at least, this no longer applies. Whatever we want is only a click away.

Kondo helps us overcome this reluctance with a rather brilliant formula. Rather than asking do we want/need something, she advises that we ask if it sparks joy. There is no room for fudging. If the answer is no, we should dispose of it thoughtfully – to a charity shop or friend or if beyond hope to the recycling or dump. Whatever its fate, we should also remember to thank the item for its service. We let it go with love and hope that the joy it once brought us will pass to another.

The world will thank you

Kondo’s system is especially helpful for those wanting to make little adjustments to the impact they have on the planet. At the heart of her method is a sincere wish that we do not always crave more but value what we have. Here are a few of the tips I remember and am frantically trying to implement!

Go around the house and collect all the things that go together and store in the same place.
Check what you have before you purchase anything new.
Take time to investigate all the drawers and cupboards in your home. You might be surprised and delighted by what turns up! Kondo would advocate emptying your whole house to do this properly, but I’m just focusing on one drawer at a time.
If the object isn’t of any use to you, find someone who might enjoy it.

Gratitude

Being thankful for our possessions is key to the Kondo method and what, I think, sets it apart from all those house organisation guides. In her book, she talks about emptying her handbag completely each day and thanking each and every item that comes out of it. When I first read it, I laughed. Really? She has clearly not encountered the horrors of mine. But on reflection, I realised that what she was doing was placing gratitude at the heart of her life. When she looks at her bus pass, she thinks of how it has helped her traverse the city; when she takes out her coin purse, how it has enabled her to purchase little essentials.

**This is clearly not my handbag**! Image: Leisara on Unsplash

I am very far from being that wise, but I am trying to review my attitude to things as existing purely for my own convenience to seeing them for what they are: objects that significantly improve my life. Cicero viewed gratitude as the greatest of all virtues and this seems a good place to start developing it.

Zen and the art of tidying

In Japanese Buddhism, all things are considered sentient – including plants and inanimate objects. Thus, all objects are accorded the respect and value we, in the West, would/should accord living things.

If we can acknowledge that everything – animate and inanimate – is interconnected and interdependent, we can come closer to understanding this view.

And if we take that to showing respect for all the material elements in our lives, we will gain a much healthier relationship with our possessions.

Tidy house, tidy mind

Kondo’s first book claims that adopting her method will be ‘life-changing’. This is a bold claim and, as one who is only working towards achieving tidiness, I cannot say that my life has been transformed … yet. What I can say is that it has made my life significantly easier in the areas where I have managed to adopt her ideas. It has given me the gift of more time, since I spend less searching for stuff. It has given me a greater appreciation for those things that I own and equally of those I have given away. It has proven to be a perfect opportunity for mindfulness. Sorting out my ribbon box below was the ideal antidote to a stressful week.

**One has to start somewhere** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The result not only let me see exactly what I had, but I rather enjoyed the look of it too – my own miniature haberdashery.

My inroads into a tidy home have only just begun, but it is something that I plan to pursue further. Whenever I complete a sorting project, I get immense satisfaction and my relationship to the objects subtly changes too. If I have kept them, I recognise the joy they have sparked within me; if not, I am grateful that they once did.

For some, Kondo’s methods will literally transform lives in often unexpected ways; for me, I’m just grateful that I can find things.

Giving Hope a Helping Hand

Looking at the news and hearing about the numerous difficulties and challenges of others, one might be forgiven for slipping into a sense of despair. The climate crisis alone is sure to give one pause. And no matter what deals are written this week at COP26, they are as insignificant as warm air upon the wind unless they are acted upon.

All of this got me to thinking about hope. It was the middle of the night and I was lying awake fretting over the very troubling news of a good friend. What is hope, after all? Is it, as the ancient Greeks claimed, but a cruel trick?

Pandora’s box

According to the myth, Prometheus angered the gods by giving the humans he created fire. As a consequence, he was doomed to daily, insufferable torture, but his brother Epimetheus was allowed to remain living among their creations on Earth. Having the faculty of foresight, Prometheus begged his brother not to accept any gifts from the gods, as he feared their vindictiveness would not end with his own punishment.

When Epimetheus was presented with the exceptionally lovely Pandora to be his wife and an exquisite box as a wedding gift from Zeus; however, he was unable to refuse. We all know the rest. Pandora, overcome with curiosity, opens the box, which releases the evils of the world. At the bottom lies hope. This is often interpreted as an act of kindness, but the more likely explanation is rather more bleak. The Greek gods were not famous for their altruism, after all. Hope is there, not to give succour to the humans, but rather to perpetuate their misery by giving them the strength to continue amidst all difficulty.

So, in the depth of night, I wondered if this was true. Was hope only a way of making us endure with false optimism or was it something else? Dawn was a long way off and I had plenty time to contemplate this.

**Holding hope in our hands** Image Ronak Valobobhai on Unsplash

Here’s hoping

My first thought was how hope was not hope but merely wishful thinking when we use it to desire a good outcome without having done much to secure it. I’m certain that I’m not the only person to prepare insufficiently for an exam or event and still keep my fingers crossed that the result will be good. Occasionally, we are lucky and it is; however, more often than not, it isn’t.

Many of us will be hoping for a good outcome of the COP26 summit, but unless we are willing to give that hope assistance in the form of life adjustments, our dreams are unlikely to be fulfilled. Such hope is, in fact, dangerous. The attitude that technology will save us; science will save us; politicians will save us, absolves us of responsibility and we need do nothing but wait. I would not wish to gamble on those odds.

**If I wish hard enough it will come true, right?** Image: Dayne Topkin on Unsplash

Good intentions

The road to Hell, they say, is paved with good intentions. I had always interpreted this to mean that without action, our good intentions are worthless. But it can equally mean that good intentions do not ensure positive outcomes. Those scientists who developed pesticides and herbicides to increase crop yields no doubt felt they were benefitting farmers and us by ensuring a bountiful and affordable food supply. The devastation that it has brought to the entire insect world would not have occurred to them. For a thorough examination of this phenomenon known as ‘the law of unintended consequences’, you may like to read the article here: https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/word-less/201904/the-road-hell-is-paved-good-intentions

Yet, without intentionality and the belief that we can improve situations, we are rendered powerless. So what exactly should we do? I confess that I’m not certain. For now, I’m going with a sort of two-pronged approach: to spend time in contemplation seeking a compassionate mindset and in making small steps in what I hope to be the correct direction. A gentle, methodical approach may not be exciting, but it does allow for flexibility and adjustments.

The urgency surrounding climate change may seem to warrant a rapid response, but it also means that we must get it right. If we take it upon ourselves to be as well-informed as we possibly can and to act without self-interest, I do believe that some good can come.

Acceptance

Sometimes, what we hope for simply isn’t possible. No amount of wishing will ensure it. Here, all we can do is bring acceptance to the situation and attempt to minimise the obvious stress and suffering of those involved. I do not feel equipped to do this yet, but I can certainly try to learn the skill of compassionate listening in the desire that it might help.

**From the heart**
Image: Photo by Meghna R on Unsplash

Equally, often what we hope for does not materialise. Life has a habit of taking us by surprise and the goals we have laboured for so long are snatched away. Hard though it is to appreciate at the time, this might be better for us. Though my life has hardly gone to plan over the last several years, I’m not sure that the outcomes have been any worse than if they had. What I have lost in health and material wealth has been more than compensated for in leisure time (to write this, for example), friendship and an opportunity for spiritual development. On balance, I believe I am better off in all the ways that count. Though I regularly have to remind myself of this when frustrated by my limitations. You really can’t have it all.

All will be well

When life seems especially bleak, the words of the medieval anchoress, Julian of Norwich, are very welcome. Sometimes I repeat them on an indefinite loop, but only today did I look up the source. I discovered that these words came from a vision she had while dangerously ill. She was questioning why God had allowed sin (all the contents of Pandora’s box) to enter the world when he was omnipotent. Here is the answer she received:

But Jesus, who in this vision informed me of all that is needed by me, answered with these words and said: ‘It was necessary that there should be sin; but all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love

It seems that despite life’s suffering, we need not despair for ultimately, ‘all will be well’. Is she right? I certainly hope so.