On eating my way to better health

The photos I've used in this post bear absolutely no relation to the subject. Because today I'm mostly writing about food. I tried to think of a snappy title but failed. Sorry. Hopefully the content will be more inspiring.

I'd love to share photos of my dresser, filled as it is with baking paraphernalia and jars of dry goods. Or beautifully-styled shots of my cookery book collection, artfully strewn with flour and bunches of herbs and so on. But with the light being what it is (dim) you'd have got a lot of grainy, blurry pictures. 

So instead it's the usual little visual journal of our recent wanderings. I hope the disparity between the words and images doesn't prove to be too off putting.

I'm always a bit unsure about these type of posts; I'd hate to come across as preachy or sanctimonious. It's just that once I start thinking about things, and these things start to form a bit of a thread, they can end up here on Mitenska. So, without (hopefully) coming across as a bit of a bore, here goes.

I've written before about food being medicine (and medicine being food, as Hippocrates wisely said). I truly believe this. So I'm trying to get healthier. It's not a 'New Year, New Me' type of thing - which, let's be honest, would probably fall by the wayside after a few weeks.

I'm not ditching any major food groups (I believe carbohydrates are completely necessary). And I'm not following any 'trends', despite what I read about or see on Pinterest and the like. Matcha this, chia that.

But the whole idea of healing is really important to me. I have an autoimmune condition: nothing scary, but it's there and it needs controlling. And rather than dealing with the symptoms using prescription drugs (as I have for the past almost 30 years) I've decided to try and address the actual cause, to treat the reason it's there in the first place.

Nutrition fascinates me. I love reading about it; surprising, considering my complete aversion to anything even vaguely scientific. And I've read about some really compelling, if grim-sounding, stuff like leaky gut syndrome, adrenal fatigue and food sensitivities. Much of it I can identify with. 

I know for a fact that I have a real problem with gluten. I struggle to avoid it because I love bread, cake, biscuits, dumplings... the list goes on. And on. But when I've given it up for reasonable amounts of time I've felt well again. My fingernails stop flaking. My stomach stops hurting. My 'brain fog' disappears. The aches and pains in my joints go away.

So I'm now absolutely determined to avoid it for good. And, ideally, to avoid the gluten free snacks and 'treats' you see on the supermarket shelves. Because they're full of sugar and all kinds of additives and ingredients I don't even recognise.

I now make my own bread and pancakes and sweet things using buckwheat flour, ground almonds, psyllium husks and whatever else works. I play around with recipes. Brown rice pasta tastes just like the usual stuff. As do gluten free porridge oats and oatcakes.

I've also cut right back on the dairy. No, my bones aren't about to crumble. I eat a lot of leafy greens and other good sources of calcium. And I made a truly beautiful discovery the other day: that hazelnut milk makes the most incredible-tasting cocoa.

I've ditched the booze (for now) and am going low-sugar. I avoid processed food, which isn't really a hardship as we cook from scratch anyway. Yes it pains me to hear what Joe eats for his school dinners sometimes, but he's four. I'm not going to impose any kind of regime on him. We don't have sweets in the house but chocolate is fine. He doesn't have crisps or fizzy drinks but we do bake biscuits together. He has toast with jam and the odd portion of trashy stuff if we're having something that's a bit out-there for him.

So, what do I eat?

Fresh fruit and vegetables. Juices and smoothies. Beans and pulses, brown rice, certain grains. Nuts. Eggs, avocados, fish, chicken, the odd bit of lamb or beef. Nut milks. Vegetable crisps. Hummus, nut butters, olives, artichokes in oil, coconut. Stuff I bake myself. Honey, herbal teas, (very) dark chocolate. Herbs and spices, soups and stews. Interesting recipes I find online and in books.

It's far from the old image of wholefoods, with everything looking and tasting like sawdust. Well, apart from those psyllium husks. I love a good health food shop, but most of our provisions come from the local weekly market and little supermarket. A very small proportion comes from M&S Food (we don't have a Waitrose in these Northern climes, and Booths is a bit of a way away). That's mainly organic meat - not that we eat a lot of it - and dairy, for Joe.

I'm determined to feel better than I have in a long time. So by ditching the food that bothers me, and by adding that which is nourishing, coupled with brisk walks and supplements, good sleep and the odd bit of precious downtime, maybe I'll get it right.

The mug of cocoa has become a daily thing, by the way. And you can never underestimate the healing power of a good novel...

October

I do love October. The weather so far has been kind, too - although it's definitely getting a bit of a bite to it. 

We've been doing lots of outdoorsy things lately. Walking and exploring and gathering. Stepping on crunchy leaves. Cutting sunflowers from the garden (there are loads). 

I've been and bought a block of lard today. I thought it would be nice to make some bird feeders when Joe gets home from school. We'll just mix it with some seed and put it in the fridge (in old yogurt pots) to firm up.

Jay's away with work until tomorrow night. So I've been a lone parent since the (very) early hours of Monday. It's not easy - constant demands and endless multitasking. Single parents who do this every day of the week have my utmost respect.

Of course, Joe thinks it's perfectly reasonable to have me make strawberry jelly whilst in the middle of cleaning the windows. Or play shops as I'm dishing out our tea. Yesterday evening, once he was finally packed off to bed, I collapsed with a cup of tea and dreamed about taking a holiday. 

I attended the school Harvest thanksgiving service on Friday morning. The Reception class all sat nicely throughout the whole thing (Joe on his teacher's knee, finger lodged up his nose). I took a seat up in the galleried bit. It's a very old church and after 90 minutes of sitting still I'd lost all sensation in my extremities. Still, I did feel like Jane Austen as I descended the stairs later on. All that austere white plaster and wooden steps and arched windows with wobbly glass, looking out over the headstones and trees.

A little group of us have joined together to form a sort of creatives' network. Other mums - some I know through preschool, others since Joe started school in the village. Three of us are starting out in business (portrait photography, crochet and handicrafts, and me: printmaker and artist type). One is more established as a graphic designer. It's great that we can help each other out with all kinds of things: photography, blogging, finances.

Oh, and we take it in turns to host and provide cake.

I'm still hooked on Downton Abbey. I have that feeling of reassurance that there are still several series (and therefore tons of episodes) left to watch.

As for autumn reading lists: nothing. I think a library visit's in order. Minus Joe. I happily take him along to choose his own books, but I don't really get a look-in when it's time to peruse the grown-up's shelves. He disappears from view or pesters to go in the lift or head home.

Still, we're rubbing along together quite nicely, just him and me. His grandad's coming for tea tomorrow and I'm making a cottage pie. Perhaps we'll bake some biscuits too whilst the oven's switched on.

I've already satisfied my yearly craving for treacle toffee. Next on the agenda: pumpkins. To carve, not eat. I just can't get into them as a foodstuff. We've already been invited to three Halloween parties (I suspect there may be an overlap somewhere). Plus we've got a fifth birthday party on Sunday, Jay's birthday on Tuesday and it would have been my mum's birthday on Saturday.

I might take a little walk alone then to think about her. It does become easier but I still miss her terribly and I don't think that will ever change. I don't want it to. But I have so many good memories - enough to last a lifetime - and that helps. If you can think about someone you've lost and still smile then that's a good thing.

September

I've always loved September. Yes, it will always be tinged with sadness as it's the month my mum passed away. But there's always that 'new start' feel to it as well. 

Joe started school (mornings for his first week, afternoons for his second. And tomorrow he goes full time). He's taken to it really well.

The whole easing-in approach has been a double-edged sword. On the one hand I've not really been able to get stuck into any work. But on the other, I've been able to extend that feeling of him still being fully mine. 

So we've been out in glorious sunshine, picking blackberries and finding conkers. We made bramble jelly. His teacher knows all about it...

Other seasonal eatings: soup (this afternoon's recipe is roasted butternut squash), huge English apples from the market and lots of ideas from my latest library book, Antonio Carluccio's Simple Cooking. I do like the idea of rustic Italian food. Simple, quality ingredients and lots of flavour.

We've been out on loads of walks lately and even discovered a new footpath quite literally behind our house. I also managed to fall down a rabbit hole. Joe tried to fall down the same rabbit hole.

It's definitely feeling autumnal now. Even the holly berries are reddening. I know where there's a plentiful supply come December, although we sadly don't get mistletoe in these parts.

Out in the garden the sunflowers are in full bloom and I've been collecting calendula seeds ready for next year. Joe's turnip seedlings are ready for moving into bigger pots too. I suspect we'll be doing that later today.

Also on the agenda: a wander through the fields into the woods to collect pine cones. I need to make a garland ready for this next weekend. I'm hoping to doll the gazebo up a bit so it looks inviting and people come and look at my artwork.

And whilst the oven's on roasting the butternut squash, we'll be baking banana bread for Joe's after-school treats.

Moving indoors: a few photos of the house. You may have blocked it out, but here's a reminder of how downstairs looked last year:

The previous owners were kind enough to leave us with lots of furniture, dog dirt, rotting food and (not so) white goods to dispose of.

After a clear-out and many months of building (and demolition) work, we were left with an empty, newly-plastered shell. It was initially decorated in a greenish grey shade but we soon realised that the light levels weren't great.

So the paint brushes and rollers came out again (sigh).

And it's now much brighter. Yes, there's still plenty to do. The dining table is a bit too 'shabby chic' for my liking so I'll maybe replace the chairs and get experimental with paint.

Ditto the old (from my mum's garage) stereo cabinet. Mahogany - or whatever it is - will be painted over with some leftover paint from the kitchen.

In fact, everything's been done on a budget. The mantel is an old piece of wood, again from the garage, which had sat on the roof of my stepdad's boat for years. The TV stand was bought from the British Heart Foundation furniture shop. We removed the glass doors, sanded down the yellow pine and repainted it. The whole thing didn't even use up a tester pot's worth. Pricey paint but it cost less than £4 in such a small tin.

The curtains are from H&M and I do intend to line them for winter. As for the windows, if you look closely at the above collage (right hand image with the typewriter): well, it actually looks out onto a scruffy bit of next door's garden. So I tried this trick from Pinterest using a piece of old lace curtain and cornflour. And it really does work. Bargain! Much cheaper than window film.

The little table (above, left) was given to us by Jay's auntie. It houses some of my favourite cookbooks. And we'd planned to get rid of our tatty old Ikea sofa bed (right) and replace it. But I raided my stash of unused fabrics and made a throw from pieces of denim and cotton. Even the cushion cover and curtain across the bottom of the dresser are made from off-cuts, kept from when I've shortened curtains for the windows.

I'm such a skinflint.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying beautiful weather and the transition from summer to autumn. I'm already knitting and reading Agatha Christie books.

And going out early in the morning in wellies and pyjamas to photograph cobwebs. As you do.

Have a great week.

Late summer

Here we are, heading towards the end of August. The fields behind the house have been mown. Blackberries are ripening in the hedgerows. And Joe starts school in a few weeks.

He turns four on the bank holiday Monday. A day out on his birthday, then the following weekend a little tent picnic in the back garden for his friends. I'm still devising some kind of treasure hunt.

The school uniform's bought. He'll do just mornings for the first week, afternoons the second then it's full days after that. On the one hand it'll be good to get some work done. On the other, I'm trying not to think about that first day at the school gates. Actually I'm dreading it. The end of this phase of his little life.

We've been busy during the holidays. Paddling and going for walks, eating ice cream in the village cafe and reading stories.

We looked after my friend's little boy last weekend. The day went well - outdoor adventuring followed by fish and chips - but by the end of it they were brawling. Tiredness played a part. We were exhausted too.

You can see summer's on the wane. The weather's been mixed: hot, sunny days and dark, rainy ones.

We've almost finished repainting the downstairs in white. It makes a huge difference to the light levels and I wish we'd done it at the very beginning. I'll share some pictures once the weather decides to brighten up again.

I'm really enjoying the slow transition to autumn. I bought Victoria plums and Bramley apples at the market this morning. I'm eating an awful lot of parsley still. I must have some kind of deficiency going on. I eat it as a salad leaf with tomatoes and cucumber, and a dressing made with tahini and lemon juice.

It's not all virtuous though. As you'll find out.

We went to the garden centre today. The hanging baskets on either side of the front door are looking a bit tired, so I bought some ivy and white heather and Solanum (Christmas cherry) plants. I like the idea of moving on and changing things to reflect the season.

We also bought some turnip seeds for Joe to plant. I borrowed a paper pot maker from the school polytunnel. I've spent time there clearing the raised beds but I've never seen as many slugs and snails in my life. They're everywhere, whole colonies of them. Nemotodes may be the answer.

So, as I was saying: virtuous eating.

Joe likes to bake. He's a greedy little boy and would eat until he exploded given half a chance. Marks and Spencer Food (or 'Mark Spencer' as he refers to it) has recently opened about two miles down the road. 

So it's all too easy to call in there for cocoa powder (chocolate buns) or treacle (gingerbread). And whilst we're there, we pick up big bags of tortilla chips (two for one pound eighty! Why wouldn't you? etc.) and... well, you get the picture.

Moving swiftly on. I've recently discovered new footpaths right here at the edge of the village I thought I knew like the back of my hand. I like finding new things.

I also like writing this blog, which is why I'm thinking that having two (the other being Frond & Feather) is absolutely do-able. Why not?

Yes, time's very tight right now whilst I'm taking care of Joe all day through the week. But that'll change very soon. So I'll have Mitenska for my family stuff, my thoughts and general musings. And Frond & Feather will be my creative place where I can write about my artwork and what inspires me.

Which is why I'm trying to stick with the landscape-orientated images now. Less time spent resizing and collaging means I can spend more time doing the good stuff: writing, printmaking, drawing.

Hope you're having a good summer.