I am a disciple of MaryJane Butters/MaryJanesFarm. I spend time with her books, studying and reading and getting to know them like old friends. I cart each new issue of the magazine around with me for days until I’m finished with it, and then it goes on an honored place on my bookshelf and not into the recycling bin (like every other magazine subscription that I have.)
Dedication aside, I’m not a very good disciple. I don’t live an agrarian lifestyle and I only eat organic about 30% of the time. I used to sew by hand and craft a lot, but psoriatic arthritis in the fingers means my hand-sewing days are over with, at least for the foreseeable future. That’s the great thing about being a FarmGirl, though. We come from everywhere and we’re all very different.
I’ve been on a shopping spree the past two weeks and have stocked up on MaryJanesFarm food. It started because I was craving Chilimac, which I’ve loved for years, and it grew worse when I realized that they sell her food at REI. (Reason #26345695 that I love calling the Pacific Northwest home now.) And then, after Tim and I discussed wanting some organic desserts and breakfasts in the house, I placed another order.
All of this shopping means that I spent my morning organizing my pantry to fit it all in.
What it means for the future, more importantly, is throwing a package of food (my new obsession is the Cheesy Noodle Casserole) in my backpack and heading off to Seattle to work and not spending $14 for lunch. And quick and simple lunches that only require my excellent talent of boiling water. It’s getting warmer here in Washington in the late afternoons and by the time the sun is high in the sky at 5pm, it’s somewhat toasty inside our house. With no air conditioner to speak of (still not over the lack of A/Cs out here), heating up my kitchen by cooking is just about the last thing I feel like doing. You wanna hear me whine? Make me sweat while doing nothing but standing still.
Most exciting for me is that I am now only 288 miles from Moscow, Idaho, aka Farmgirl Mecca. That is considerably less than the 2,022 miles distance between my old home and Moscow, and I have every intention of heading over the Cascades and through the flatlands to make it to her farm for a visit. I don’t know when, but it’s totally happening. Maybe it could be a Farmgirl Chapter field trip?!?!?