Last night, with my housemates seated around the living room, I broke out the bottles and poured small samples into the glasses lined up on the table. As each of them took a sip, eyes rolled back and smiles spread wide. One just nodded. "Dude..." mused the next. After a long pause, Mister Nygren simply said, "Wow, babe. Wow."

It was a very proud moment for me. I had [evidently] become a successful homebrewer.

I began brewing t'ej -- an Ethiopian honey wine made and served in the home -- just over a month ago. I started with very small batches because, among other things, I didn't want to get stuck with five gallons of something that didn't turn out well... and to hear some folks tell it, getting a homemade brew just right is only slightly less difficult than crossing a mine field on a pogo stick.
Blindfolded.
So when I found a basic t'ej recipe in Wild Fermentation  that could be made with any number of different flavors but only really needed honey, water and patience,* I just had to try my hand at it.

*(The author notes that authentic t'ej also calls for adding gesho, a plant indigenous to Ethiopia, for a bittering agent.  You can't get it here without importing it or finding a dealer on eBay, though, so he went on to say that a great -- if not completely authentic -- finished product could be made without it.)

My first batch was the rudimentary honey-and-water version; in the second, I threw in a half-cup of thawed mixed berries.  Both got rave reviews last night. The best part: in terms of home ferments, it's nearly an instant-gratification drink. Though it can be bottled and aged like mead, it's ready to drink young after just a couple weeks. What we had was delightful and already quite complex after just a month.  "It's official," one of my housemates declared. "You're in the t'ej-making business."

Come by and see me if you want some. It's surprisingly potent stuff, so don't be offended if I start by offering you a sample that barely covers the bottom of the wine glass. Can't have you ending up looking like one of these folks...

I admit it: I've started two other entries between the last one and now, saved them both as drafts in progress, and didn't want to wait until I felt witty enough to finish them before posting again. Having been notified by a couple folks who love me that my blog is the way they keep up with the adventure/comedy known as my life, I wanted to be sure I didn't leave them hanging. This won't be any great shakes, but it oughta get the job done. Here goes:

1) Little Man is [finally] going to sleep in his big boy bed on his own. He's been in it for more than a month (ever since he figured out how to launch himself out of his crib, the tricky little dickens) but until recently, Mister Nygren and I have been taking turns lying down beside him at night until he loses consciousness. Realizing that in a few short months we won't have that luxury, we decided it was time for him to learn to stay in bed just because we said so, and not because he was physically incapable of doing otherwise. Our early attempts were met with nearly an hour of crying and feigning owwies each night to get us to return to his room. After a couple weeks of sticking to our guns, though, it seems to have worked. So for five GLORIOUS days now, he has climbed into bed, said his prayers ("Tanks [something unintelligible] Daddy... tanks [something unintelligible] Baby... amen"), offered hugs and kisses and lay quietly until he's drifted off.
Much rejoicing, albeit slightly softer than daytime volume, was heard throughout the Abbey.

2) I can make my own sauerkraut. Hot damn.
I threw in some gold beets just because I'd seen them at the market and they looked interesting, and they're magical in sauerkraut. My cabbage looked happier just for having them in there. If you like sauerkraut and you've only had the heat-treated kind that comes in a can or jar, you have no earthly idea what you're missing.  Email me and I'll hook you up. I just started another batch tonight with apples in it...

3)At this stage of development, my little Sugar Bean has a strong heartbeat, lots of functioning organs, fingerprints, and... no midwife. The only one covered on my insurance won't take me because I'm trying for a VBAC, and the out-of-pocket cost of using one who isn't in-network may prove too great for us. (Ironically, that cost would still be about one-third the price of a hospital birth. Midwives, understandably, need their money before you deliver; a hospital, on the other hand, can just bill you... and bill you... and bill you.) I may just need to wait until my economic-stimulus money comes in from the gubmint to get what I'm looking for... or, I may just need to take this as a sign from God that I should make plans to deliver with an OB. Guess we'll see.

4) Last night was my final show with The Elder Statesmen in its current incarnation; Robert and Mickey (bass player and drummer, respectively) have taken other projects. Darius and Ron (keys and percussion) have been gracious enough not to vote me off the island yet -- maybe because I'm now not just the only female member, but the only pale one as well, and every otherwise-homogenous group needs a Token :) -- so I'm eager to discover what musical relationships and adventures lie ahead.

There's more, but... I'm tired. Much love -- and sweet dreams -- to all.

"News" of particular interest to those of us In the Family Way:

The Business of Being Born, a documentary about home births and the current maternity care system in U.S. hospitals, was recently released on NetFlix. (Jefe has graciously offered to let me watch it on his laptop via his account -- stay tuned for a review once I've seen it.)

Days before the release of the DVD, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists issued a press release reiterating its long-standing opposition to home births, warning women about the perils of letting their birth choices be "dictated or influenced by what's fashionable, trendy, or the latest cause célèbre," because "[d]espite the rosy picture painted by home birth advocates, a seemingly normal labor and delivery can quickly become life-threatening for both the mother and baby."

In other news, four major SUV manufacturers issued a joint statement reiterating their long-standing opposition to "dangerously small" fuel-efficient vehicles, and early findings in a study funded by McDonalds show that home kitchens are far less sanitary than those in restaurants and can put families at needless risk of potentially lethal food poisoning.

Of course I made that other stuff up, but only to make a point: would you readily believe as gospel a statement issued by any other organization that stood to make millions of dollars by convincing you of its viewpoint?

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   * 
This just in: asked to comment about the documentary and the statement issued by the ACOG, Amish communities across the country expressed their collective sense of shame and dismay at having discovered they've been unwittingly doing something trendy for more than three hundred years. More news as the story develops.
 

The good news is, after taking serial doses of echinacea and goldenseal, my throat and I were all better... and not a moment too soon! I had the afternoon to hang out with Little Man (I'd been missing him something awful) before getting ready for my regularly scheduled group therapy session -- better known to some as karaoke at the Tipperary.

As I was getting dressed, I grabbed something from the fridge to snack on (something that had looked and tasted just fine, for the record). Thirty or forty minutes later, though, as I was preparing to leave the house, that old familiar feeling hit me -- the clammy skin, the odd tingling behind my forehead that I have come to recognize as the harbinger of Uncle Ralph's imminent arrival.

I returned to the fridge and took out the container from which I'd eaten. There was no expiration date, only a suggestion that the product was "best enjoyed before"... March.

Immediately I went to my pantry, pulled down the plastic gallon jug of industrial-strength apple cider vinegar, poured myself a shot and drank it.  

(I'll give you a minute to quit wincing and gagging before I continue.) 

Having heard about such a remedy in a couple of reputable places [and already knowing cider vinegar to be a natural antiseptic strong enough to use as household disinfectant], I did the math pretty quickly: if it worked, great; if not, no harm done... it's not like I wasn't going to throw up anyway. 

I won't lie -- a full ounce of undiluted vinegar is the hardest shot I've ever done.* Given a choice between that and spending the night singing to my porcelain pal, though, it was really no contest.

It took nearly an hour for me to really feel like myself again, but I kid you not: within twenty minutes I was out of the danger zone. So I certainly hope none of you get food poisoning, but if you do, try this at the first sign... and while I'm dispensing advice, here's a freebie from the "Lessons Learned the Hard Way" bin: always check to see how old something is before you eat it.

 _{*I realize this statement could be interpreted any number of ways. Have fun.}

Too fabulous not to mention: I found an article today about Random Valley, an organic vineyard in Western Australia, where founder Peter Little is working to build a house insulated with several thousand recycled wine bottles filled with water. "Water," he is quoted as saying, "is probably, I think one of the miracle building materials of this century which nobody is using. From our point of view it can store more energy, heat or cool, than any material we know."

Just now I started having visions of all those freaking Miller High Life bottles that wind up in my yard finally going to a good cause...

Side note: I read at the bottom of one of their pages that they have been known to host overseas volunteers who come to help tend their vineyard and farm...
I think I feel a mission trip coming on.