simple.

Lately I find myself desiring a simpler existence.


This isn't groundbreaking by any means; I think most people experience the draw of simple living, whether in the form of living in a smaller house, or making/growing more of their own food, or any of the other frugalities (probably a real word) that have become trendy in the "current economic climate". So why can't more people achieve the lifestyle they claim they want? It should be as easy as a visit to goodwill, and some canning lessons from your great-aunt Thelma, right?

I guess I can't speak for anyone else, so I'll be content in pondering the foes I face in achieving a simpler life.

As far as I can remember, I've always been a pack-rat, like my father before me. The "junk" I've salvaged over the years would serve to finish ten times over the projects I've started and never finished. I could totally tear down those pallets and build something out of them. I should probably save these wine bottles too, they'd be perfect for some project. Don't throw that away, I could re-purpose it into something!

Supply far outweighs demand. There are never enough "somethings" to turn the junk into. Either that, or I don't have enough of an attention span to finish projects that don't turn out to be as fulfilling as I'd dreamed when I saw that [fill in the blank] sitting on the corner. It would seem that I hate waste, not for any altruistic reasons, but for a selfish fear of of being without a free solution should the need arise. And so I hoard, cluttering my home and life with materials and projects that I can't let go of. The surface intention may be a self-sustaining simplicity, but that's just an excuse to surround myself with social flotation devices like neat little hobbies and "Did you see this cool thing that Daniel made?"

There's nothing wrong with wanting to carve spoons, but with so many things dividing my attention in this fast-paced world, there isn't time to devote to these crafts without sacrificing something for them. The lie I tell myself is that I can add as many projects as I want by paring down these activities smaller and smaller until I only have 15 minutes on a Thursday between 5:00 and 5:15 to work on project #264 (and more than likely I'll spend that time on Facebook anyway).

So what do you do?

Awhile ago I decided that I wanted to read more books, so I grabbed one off the shelf, sat down, and made it through about 15 pages before I got distracted by something and put the book down. Half my books still have bookmarks in their first 30 pages. I began to ask myself what it was that was getting in the way of finishing a book, and it very quickly became apparent that it was the available distractions of a computer/tv, and the sleep-inducing comfort of my "reading chair". Easy solution: go read somewhere else. I've managed to finish a stack of books since this revelation, but it wasn't easy to devote the the singular goal of reading. Sitting on my couch with my computer at hand gives the illusion that I'm seconds away from building some project, trying some recipe, or picking up some book, but the allure of the mindless entertainment via the internet is a difficult gravity well to escape.

Some might say, "But Daniel, you're so industrious, you build stuff and garden and bake things and so on and so forth..." And they're right, I collect hobbies like anything else, but without adequate time to devote to any of them, I become familiar in all, and excellent in none. Is it wrong to want to be a jack-of-all-trades? I don't know, but I would venture a guess that Jack had to be pretty competent in those trades if he had any intention of getting work.

I guess this is as close as I get to fear of commitment. I can't settle on one hobby/skill, for fear of being found wanting in another. This is probably rooted in a fear of dependence on anyone else. If I know how to weld and woodwork and cook and garden and make my own clothes, I don't have to rely on anyone else. But the freedom of independence isn't worth missing out on true community. Living a simple life seems to be (perhaps counter-intuitively) easier in community.

Well, kinda got into a ramble there, but whatever. Time to get off the computer and start doing something. Excellently.

Wouldn't you like to be a pepper too?

So what if it's been 3 weeks since my last post? I do what I want!

Remember the whole "bringing peppers inside for the winter" business? Yeah, didn't think so.

The kitchen jungle.

So here they are. In total I have seven plants gracing any window where they can find a couple hours of sun and escape the cold. The idea was that many of these would be adopted by friends, but I keep delaying the hand-off with the excuse that they aren't well enough established yet for new parents. The longer I wait, the more attached I get, so I'd better hurry up and get them out of here.

Doe Hill Golden bell? Hard to tell once you've removed all the fruit.

The process of uprooting and pruning them back was pretty traumatizing for all but the smallest plants. Conventional wisdom says you prune the plants back by about 30%, so that the root system can re-establish itself without having to support as many branches and fruit. A couple of mine were still looking pretty pathetic after a week or so, so I cut all the peppers off of them and they perked back up. 

Cayenne

The varieties I have are (as best as I can remember): 1 cayenne, 1 sweet chocolate bell, 2 doe hill golden bells, 2 mystery bells that start lime green and turn orange, and 1 mystery hot pepper that is probably a serrano but looks more like a cayenne.

Mystery lime green bell.

Yesterday I noticed a pretty high concentration of aphids on a couple of the plants (you can actually see them on the stems of the leaves in the above picture), so I moved the worst offenders onto the porch in hopes that some natural predators like ladybugs would take care of the problem for me. The other plants received a visual scan and finger-squishing treatment, so hopefully that will keep the bugs at bay for awhile longer. One thing about having them indoors is that you have to hand-pollinate the flowers if you want them to develop into fruit, but I haven't been doing that yet since they're still pretty scraggly-looking for the most part.

An intrepid mystery sprout making its way for the window. Photo-tropism is neat.

 I've avoided naming any of the plants yet, but once I know who's headed to a new home and who's staying you can be sure they'll all gain distinct personalities and back-stories.

I've come to realize that this exercise is probably a symptom of my pack-rat nature, seeing as I'm not even overly-fond of most peppers, I just can't bear to see a season's worth of effort uprooted and thrown out!