Blog Less

     I just need some time.

Meat-Less?

     I call myself a vegetarian, but I'm not.  I do eat meat, just very rarely.  For most people it's just easier to say I'm  a vegetarian than to explain why I won't eat their meat.  Unless, of course, they ask.  Then I'd be all too happy to let them know.
     I'll explain.
     It started a few years ago during Lent, traditionally a time in the Catholic faith when we take on some form of self-denial.  Trying to up the ante from the previous year of denying sweets for forty days, my wife and I decided to deprive ourselves of meat the whole time too.  It wasn't easy, but it was extremely satisfying on Easter.
     The next two Lents we did it again.  It turns out the entire church used to abstain from meat during all of Lent (not just Fridays) and on every Friday during the year.  Doing it like they used to is only consistent with this backward path through time I seem to be traveling on.
     Then one day (not during Lent) we learned about factory farming.  I don't want to go into detail about what I learned, I know most people have a pretty good idea that what happens on a factory farm or a slaughter house is not something they'd like to do for a living, let alone even witness.  I also know most people choose not to think about it.  I certainly wasn't until one day I just reached a point when I had to.
     I can't say for sure what changed.  At that time I felt like I was being alerted to many things about our culture that I had blindly gone along with, but meat was just the most visible change.
     That was why it was so hard to make the move to vegetarianism while I was working at the Fire Department.  It's like family there.  For twenty-four hours we do everything together.  Meal time is no exception, but more so its the best time of day.  That's when the stories get told (and inevitably the poop jokes too).  My wife and I had begun to be vegetarians at home, but when we were out or at work there were no rules.  I don't know if it was because my wife was home more and thus ate far less meat than me, but she ended up somewhat challenging me to do it all the way--go veg.
     So, I mentioned it at work.  It must have been around November or so, and I told them I'd be starting 2009 as a vegetarian.  That way when I decided not to eat a steak with everyone one day it wasn't going to be this shocker for them to talk about whenever they saw me.
     That didn't matter.  I still haven't heard the end of it.  Being weird all of my life has thickened my skin fortunately.
     My wife and I jumped right into it.  I had my last Chick-fil-A sandwich (to write it makes my mouth water), no more apple and brandy glazed pork tenderloin; we were done.  Well, it wasn't exactly jumping into it when we'd slowly been heading that direction.  Plus, it wasn't like there couldn't be meat in our future.  Like I said, I'm not really a vegetarian.  I like to call it...mostly-veg.  Here's why:
     I know that reducing meat consumption also reduces carbon emissions--but that's not really going to give anyone that push, especially while we're still driving our cars.
     I know that reducing meat consumption reduces heart disease and a list of other health problems--but you could also easily switch to lean chicken and fish, which has tons of health benefits (still not sure why it's not considered meat though).
     I know that reducing meat consumption reduces the suffering of animals--but heck, they're just going to be killed anyway and while they may have feelings I don't believe they have souls.
     But, I also know that plenty of people have lived full healthy lives without meat, including many centenarians.
     I know that if we all had to live among the quantity of poultry and livestock we consumed we'd be looking for some soybeans just to get away from all that sh-- (methane?).
     I know that rotating between beef, chicken, pig, and fish is not considered a varied diet.
     I know that every dollar spent on meat is put into the hands of companies who use practices that have nothing to do with God or what is considered natural.
     I know that cows eat grass and chickens eat bugs--not corn.
     I know there are plenty of starving people out there and cleaning our plates is not going to feed them.
     I also know that eating a wild animal or one left to graze naturally is not only good stewardship, but it has far more health benefits.
     With what information I had there was one simple conclusion.  I may like meat, but I like a lot of things I don't get everyday (you were thinking of chocolate I hope).  It was going to be a sacrifice, but there is something to gain from every sacrifice.  Yet in order to hold firm to this decision, we needed to allow some leeway.
     We discovered EatWild.com, which allows you to put in your zip code and search a map of nearby farms raising animals organically, on their natural diets, and on a small scale where some of them even have names.  (I was once told it's silly to eat a pig that's lived longer and has a nice life than to put the tail-less, mother-less one who never saw the light of day out of its misery.)
     I used to think it was awful to eat deer.  They seem like such nice animals (this is due to the Bambi Effect of course).  Then I realized I could eat them.  Their only predator, the car, does little to thin the population that has increased due to other human activities, so it gives those who enjoy hunting the job of attempting to balance the wacked-out natural order of things.  And I know some of those guys.  I think they think I'm going to waste away to nothing, so I have graciously been given some deer meat.  (I've always been skinny, cutting out meat hasn't changed that.)  There's really no need for meat in this society of plenty, but having these two options made it so much easier.  Of course, we can't really afford to eat that meat except on special occasions, nor do I think we should, therefore I'm mostly-veg.
     I just want to end with listing some of the benefits that have come from this:
          I can grow most of what I eat.
          For once, I can actually recognize different spices and know how to use them too.
          There is so much more variety in my diet, again, spices I never knew of before fill our
          freezer.
          There is no cross-contaminating with knives and cutting boards.
          And everything gets composted.

Marigolds

     Besides sunflowers and soy, the only other seeds I saved from last year were the marigolds, also because it was so easy to do.  The ways in which a plant produces and spreads its seeds was completely unknown to me until I started doing this.  I was tossing the marigolds in the compost in the fall when I could clearly see the seed pods opening.  I grabbed more than I had room to plant.
     Seed saving is funny, I'm trying to avoid paying a $1.50 next year for a seed packet.  But, if I can do it with nearly everything that savings adds up.  Along with composting and companion planting it makes for a very inexpensive way to feed oneself.  The cost is in labor.
     I planted the marigolds as a companion to many of the vegetables.  I think a scent they produce naturally deters some pests but they also flower and attract many bees--and bees are a gardeners friend.  Last year I planted them right into the beds because the seed packet (which wasn't heirloom, unfortunately) said they get from eight to twelve inches high.  I'm not sure why, but that wasn't true.  My marigolds were over two feet high and had so many flowers.  This was reason enough to save the seeds. 
     They're growing well this year from what I saved, but this time I planted them to border the outside of the garden.  It's more attractive and leaves more space for the vegetables.  At the end of this season I could have enough seed to completely replace my thistle ridden lawn with marigolds.  Hmm...

Local Harvest

  

      I realize many of us are nowhere near putting in a new garden this summer, but hopefully there's someone close dumping their extra tomatoes and zucchini on you right now.  If not I know the grocery stores seem to be making more of an effort to offer local produce, but it's still a better option to visit the nearby farmers market to get the produce you need.  

      Price alone makes it worth it.  Many of the vendors are family farmers who make a living on their harvest.  Selling directly to the customer, the farmers can offer a lower price to you and still make more profit than if they were supplying a grocery store.  

     LocalHarvest.org let's you search to find the nearest markets and times in your zip code.

     We started visiting farmers markets occasionally before we had children, but after we had moved to the Cleveland area we discovered the City Fresh Program.  It's a local CSA (community supported agriculture) that offers mostly organic produce.  We would go once a week to our fresh stop, for us a church nearby,  and we'd pick up a bag of produce that we paid ten or twenty dollars for, depending on the size we chose the week prior.  It was great, you never knew exactly what you'd get, but it was whatever was in season.  I never had kale until we started doing this, or a yellow watermelon (and I mean yellow on the inside).  Of course, the rest of the vegetables were familiar to us, but it forces you to use what you have, planning meals according to what's in season.  It's a luxury that we should have been able to do otherwise.  Selling fresh strawberries in Ohio in the middle of December should make us all skeptical. 

     I would say that City Fresh or any CSA is even more affordable than the Farmers Markets, you get a lot for your money.  Either way, the produce, being so fresh, lasts really long.  It may take a little more effort to get out there to do it--there's no express lane or self-checkout, but there is a community of people who do this weekly, and some of them are pretty cool.  It's a great environment to be in.  Getting out on a Saturday morning, meeting the people who grew your food, if you haven't done it you should give it a try.  Hold off on the grocery store before this weekend and see what you can get at the farmers market first.  It'll be worth it.

Plastic

     I named my car HAL.  It had this red light on the passenger door that would stay on all the time.  The car alarm also would come on at any hour exhibiting signs that it had a mind of its own.  Before it could drive me out into deep space--or kill the battery completely, I took it to the dealership to get it fixed.

Always staring at me.

     I sat in a cozy waiting room stocked with bananas and chocolate for dipping them in and a selection of magazines to keep me busy.  I sat back and relaxed while HAL was being deactivated.  (I know this is my second Men' Health reference, and while I have gotten some decent pieces of information in there, I think overall it's twaddle.)  I picked up a Men's Health and read an article about plastic.
     These days it's pretty well known that plastic bottles and food containers have to be used sparingly.  I read this article maybe four years ago, yet I felt behind the news when I read it.  The article talked about the degree of safety with the different plastic's, each marked by a number on the bottom for sorting during recycling. Each number had corresponding disorders that can potentially be induced by regular contact with that plastic.
     When I got home (it was lonely in the car without that red light) I checked every plastic container we had.  One's and two's were most common in our house, but they were also deemed the safest.  I stared at the bottom of the reusable Nalgene water bottle that I had been using regularly for the past year trying to decide whether I was looking at a seven or a fancy one.  It was agreed that it had to be a seven--reportedly containing Bisphenol A (BPA's) which are connected to reproductive disorders.  I also found a baby bottle we had been given from the hospital (thankfully never used) that was marked with a seven as well.
     It's really hard not to feel like companies are out there poisoning us.  I think they're usually excused because no one knew it was harmful at the time;  I didn't, the company didn't, the government didn't.  But that means to me that no one knew if it was safe either.
     So I threw the bottles away.  (Actually I recycled them, but there's no way of dramatically recycling something.)  For Christmas, my sister-in-law got me a great stainless steel bottle made by Thermos.  Not only do I love that it's not plastic, but it has an excellent design (once I dropped it from on top of a roof and it's fine).  They even have a steel sippy-cup too.
     Having small children made me especially aware of these dangers.  I think that parents of grown children assume young parents are just over-cautious, but I know they would be too if they were raising kids these days.  And sure, we're all going to die from something, but old age would be preferable.
     I don't think there's a magically sustainable material that we can use to replace everything, there are always going to be issues.  Plastic goods may be a really affordable way to have whatever we want, but I'm looking at it now like this: if it's plastic, I probably don't need it.  Of course that means we do with less, making for a very complicated picnic and a scavenger hunt when buying toys, but it also gives us the opportunity to take care of the products we took the effort to find.  And that's a great lesson for children to learn.

Young Pumpkin

     All thoughts and prayers are greatly appreciated that this will make it to it's full pumpkin splendor.  If it also turns into a horse drawn carriage then all the better, we'll need a bigger car soon anyway.

Soy

I now know they're toxic when raw (oops.)

     I have hairy soybeans.  I'm not sure if that is normal, but they grew that way.  They're also heirloom and they grow super well, Ohio does have a good reputation with soy and corn.
     I grew these from seed I had saved from last year,  I let them dry on the plant, but then never did anything else with them.  I'd love to see if I could make a cube of tofu, it's one of those things that doesn't seem possible.
     Soy was a big debate around here about a year ago.  We wondered if we were getting too much.  It tends to be in everything anymore while the rumor is that the higher levels of estrogen in soy can cause problems for males.  I came across an article in Men's Health (it should be called Men's Homogenization) about a guy who grew breasts from too much soy products.  Apparently, as it happens, he had consumed excessive amounts of soy milk after forming a lactose intolerance.  For those of us who get a modest intake of soy it's not so likely, but the soy rumor persists regardless of the facts.
     That doesn't calm my concerns about the overuse of soy.  It's found in things that it has no right to be in.  But, I have to admit, you could say the same thing about milk, or chicken stock, or wheat for that matter.  There's no reason to eat the same food at every meal.

Not tofu yet.

     Instead of avoiding tofu or edamame, I'm avoiding the prepared foods with their excessive ingredients.  That way, when I eat soy I do it knowingly.

     "Soybeans can produce at least twice as much protein per acre than any other major vegetable or grain crop, 5 to 10 times more protein per acre than land set aside for grazing animals to make milk, and up to 15 times more protein per acre than land set aside for meat production." (Wikipedia)


     Let it be know, also, as I'm looking on Wikipeida, that textured soy protein, which is found in most vegetarian foods, has been used for 50 years as a way of extending ground beef without losing it's nutritional value.  That means if you eat meat you may still be eating soy.  Weird.

A Framer's Rant

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     I have to do this.

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     I spent a few years as a picture framer for a moderately priced framing chain and later for a more high-end gallery.  I saw a broad range of images that people were choosing to put on their walls.  Having an art background, I liked to scrutinize, now and then, the quality of the artwork to myself and with my co-workers.  It often resulted in my utter disgust and disappointment.  In some cases, I could not believe how much somebody might pay to frame a print.  I don't mean a limited-edition screen print or woodblock print, but more like what I would call a poster.
     I had an art history teacher once who said, "You too can own the Mona Lisa for $1.99!"  It's true.  We all know it's a beautiful painting, but I personally have never seen it.  It's in Paris.  Prints couldn't possibly do it justice.
     When I was framing in a community that had some more wealth I expected better artwork (I did get to frame a painting by Hitler, I can't say that was better, certainly frightening) but I just saw more Giclee (gee-clay) prints there, which are a high quality, limited edition prints, done by an ink jet printer powered by...a computer.  We also frequently framed original paintings sold in the gallery that, because of a short National Geographic article, I am certain are done by Chinese workers in what I think would be close to an art factory.  When one painting was sold a similar one quickly replaced it.  It would be a good job but I hope they were paid decently for their talent.

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     After some time this really started to bother me.  I thought, "I bet you could walk down your street and find at least one neighbor, maybe a high-school kid, who has some degree of talent and possibly a painting or drawing lying around that they'd sell for a few bucks."  Why do we hang artwork that was done by a machine on our walls?  Can we even call that art?  It seems to be missing the point.  To expect that we deserve Van Gogh's "Starry Night" over our couch is a bit arrogant and it's not helping the problem.
     And here's what the problem is:  Other than the tiny percentage of artists who exhibit and sell their work in galleries, most artists can only survive as such by using their skills to make some company look beautiful in an effort to entice the rest of us to hand over our money.  Commercials are essentially the fine art of our time.

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     So here's what I propose:  Next time you find an empty frame, have a blank spot on the wall, or thirty bucks or so burning a hole in your pocket--BUY AN ORIGINAL ARTWORK!  Ask an artist you know if they have some drawing they'd part with (don't commission them to do what you want until they offer--probably they have a day job and limited time, you buying their art may make them find the time to do more).  Find an art sale, go to art shows at high schools, colleges, coffee shops, and the local gallery.  And then if you've never looked at Etsy.com, do so.  Browse under original paintings or drawings, then click ahead to a price range you can deal with.  You'll see some pretty good art for cheap.  One of the best features is that you can search locally.
     This doesn't mean we should all tear down the Thomas Kinkade print on the wall (I have an artist friend who referred to him as the Antichrist), but consider next time giving your money to a person instead of a machine.  And if money is really tight, frame your own photos (just stop using the flash already).

Mud huts

     Here are some of the other alternatives for modern construction.  

    Check out how Cal-Earth is making homes basically from sandbags.   The green factor is pretty obvious:

Designers orient windows and walls and place awnings, porches, and trees to shade windows and roofs during the summer while maximizing solar gain in the winter. In addition, effective window placement can provide more natural light and lessen the need for electric lighting during the day. (Wikipedia)

Others have been doing it from straw-bale and adobe.  It's something civilizations knew about long ago, and it seems we're having to relearn it.

     We would have to change our concept of what a house looks like.  Personally, I don't think I'd mind living in a hobbit house, but I suppose my neighbors might.

AC

     Man, is it hot.  We're grateful to have been given a really nice air conditioner unit from my in-laws that we keep in the bedroom so sleeping can be more bearable, especially for my pregnant wife.  But the rest of the house has only fans; one nice one in the living room, and a pretty useless one in the kitchen.  Basically we try to stay out of there, it's South-East facing and heats up fast.
     This is an old house, like I've said, but thankfully it's been re-insulated at some point and does really well at holding up to the unpredictable temperatures of Ohio.  That's as long as I do my part.  Every night before bed I open a few windows to let in some cooler (but lately humid) air.  In the morning I wait until the outside temperature begins to climb before I shut the windows.  It's a hard thing mentally to close windows on a hot day, but it makes all the difference. The fans get turned on, and if it's supposed to be a really hot day I close the curtains on the South side of the house.  It's not perfect, but I've kept it consistently ten or more degrees cooler than the outdoors.
     Growing up, I spent a lot of time in the woods or climbing trees, I don't know if that was because I wanted to or because we didn't have air conditioning.  It didn't take me long though, to realize I didn't really like it.  It's fine while you're sitting in it, but the moment you step out of a frigid store or a cool car ride it's a blast in the face.

     I remember in Iraq sweating out the desert heat and burning wind in the shade of a ridiculous tent, meanwhile the staff NCO's were cooling off in a little building they sealed off with an air conditioning unit they somehow acquired.  They let us come in there during the days, but every time you had to pee you walked out into the blinding sun and baked yourself before returning.  I usually just tolerated the heat on a hot cot (you sweat instead of peeing), I'd always think of  the men in the trenches of WWII or the jungles of Vietnam and feel guilty sitting in the AC.
    This is how I look at air conditioning:  It's really hot out, so let's pull all the extra hot air out of my house and push it back into the already hot world.  And burn some coal to cool it..  Meanwhile sealing the house from anything natural so that the outdoors inevitably makes us sick to be in it.
     I say that, but I'm loving our air conditioner at nights now.  Yet, I've also come to discover that comfort is neither an inalienable right nor a blessing.
     I think being cooped up in a hot or a cool house on a hot day is more of a problem.  Blacktop was never a good idea and stores hanging their doors open to lure you into their cool air should be illegal.  But most of all, I think the design of  houses in this country is probably something we'll look back at and wonder what we were thinking.
     Tomorrow I'm going to share something really cool.  (No pun intended.)

Machines and Migrant Workers

     I worked in a factory for a few months during one summer while home from college.  I could have been part of the manufacturing of bombs for all I knew.  All I did was fit tiny little parts together for hours on end.  It was the definition of tedium.  But I was good at it.  Or, at least, pretty fast.
     I also despised it.  Thinking about it now I'm not sure it was the tedium that I despised as much as the factory itself.  Constant, fluorescent, overhead lighting, the sound of machines humming, and very little interaction with people created an all together mind-numbing environment.
     I'm glad to have that experience behind me, but I was reminded of it recently out in the garden.  I found myself a bit dreading the morning tomato harvest.  I may have planted too many in an awkward way that's causing them to be difficult to reach, but when I think I've found all the ripe ones for the day I get annoyed when I stumble upon a few more.
     This is silly complaining because one bite of those suckers is worth it.  But at least I can pop them in my mouth as I harvest.  Picking beans doesn't quite have the same thrill.  And since I've been experimenting more with seed saving this year it's turned out to be an even more dull task.

One puff at a time.

     Lettuce, when it goes to seed, looks a lot like some weeds I've seen.  It has those dandelion-like puffs that get carried by the wind.  As I filled my hand with the tiny seeds I began to wonder how long I planned on standing there doing this.
     It was the same collecting parsley seeds.
     And the marigolds.
     And sage.
     I started to understand why people gave this up and let machines and migrant workers do the hard parts.  I couldn't help but wonder why I was feeling this way.  I like gardening.  I love that I've entered into a long tradition of saving heirloom seeds.  Why do I feel like I'm wasting too much time?
     Well, the bills did need paid.  The grass (or weeds) was waiting to be cut.  I've got various car issues that need taken care of.  It's just really hard to keep up with this world while having my hands full of seeds.  If my biggest worries were whether the potatoes were going to make it this year I don't think I'd  mind any time spent in the garden.
     Every job I've ever had has a degree of tedious repetition to it.  Gardening, and saving seeds as well as preserving is no different.  That is how God made it; the bees eat nectar, make honey, lather, rinse, repeat.  And we eat by the sweat of our brow.  In truth I find the repetition calming.  Besides, I'm standing in this beautiful creation--not in a factory.  When I go in to pay the bills I'm thinking about when I can get back outside.  What I'm looking for is a way to tip that balance and rid myself of the anxiety caused by finding a way to make that happen.

Bread for Christine

         This isn’t exactly the best bread making time of year, but I mentioned I would share this recipe when I made bruschetta recently.  So I owe this post to a Christine, but I’m sharing it for another Christine.

          I love fresh bread.  Out of curiosity I tried making it myself a couple of years ago.  I used a recipe I found online that require kneading several times, long rising times, and then brushing it with egg white, which is an annoying thing about some recipes.  What are you supposed to do with the yolk?  The bread was good, but I rarely made it.

            Then one Christine told me about a book called Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day by Jeff Hertzberg MD, and Zoe Francois    I checked it out from the library as I do all books (thank God for the Cleveland Library Network) and after trying the first recipe I was convinced.

            It’s so simple; no kneading, no egg, and it’s honestly the best bread I ever had.  Here’s the recipe for the Boule (it’s the basic white bread dough).  It makes four 1-pound loaves that can be used for Baguettes, Pita, Naan, and several others:

                        3 cups lukewarm water

                        1 ½ tablespoons granulated yeast (1 ½ packets)

                        1 ½ tablespoons Kosher/ other coarse salt

                        6 ½ cups unsifted, unbleached, all-purpose white flour

                        whole wheat flour for the pizza peel

And you need a baking stone.  I don’t know if that’s true, but they say it is and I’ve never tried it without.  A baking stone is just a good thing to have—especially the round one for making pizza too.

            You just mix it all up in any order until it’s pretty evenly mixed (it’ll be pretty wet).  Cover the bowl and let it rise for two hours.  After that you can use it immediately or refrigerate (covered) for up to two weeks.  This gi

ves it a bit more flavor, like sourdough.

            To make the baguettes: Preheat the oven to 450 degrees and place the baking stone in the oven with a broiler pan on the rack beneath it.  Sprinkle the dough with flour and pull a 1-pound portion out and roll in flour until it’s dry enough to handle.  Stretch it our to a long tube shape 2 inches thick.  I put it on a wooden cutting board sprinkled with whole wheat flour, but if you have a pizza peel it’s better.(If it’s from the refrigerator let it rest for 20 minutes before moving on.)  Then score the top of the loaf with diagonal marks using a serrated knife, and brush the surface of the dough with water.

            You can slip it onto the hot baking stone then and immediately pour one cup of water into the hot broiler tray (the steam makes the crust perfect).  Patiently keep the oven door closed for 20 minutes.  It should be a golden brown.  Let it cool on a wire rack.

            The baguette is not the best recipe for a 90 degree day, but the Vegan Dad has instructions for cooking it on the grill (which I tried, but didn’t elevate the baking stone like instructed and kind of burned the bottom) or you can make Naan which they say you can even make while camping (it’s like cooking a pancake, butter in a pan with a lid, and flip).  Now that I have the recipe in my head I can make bread any time, even in the woods.

            There are so many other dough recipes (whole wheat, rye, raisin) that make the book entirely worth owning.  And they have a second book, that I haven't seen, with more whole grain recipes.   I love that they discovered a way to defy what was so commonly thought to be the best and only way to make bread and came up with great results.  

Timber!

     There's a new wind blowing around here and I was hoping it could bring an end to this pessimistic streak I got going; except, it actually blew over my tallest sunflower.  I don't mean just drooped it down a bit, but literally laid it on its side flat on the ground.
     This, of course, is the sunflower I didn't plant--I left it alone to see again the power of compost.  It just bloomed this past week and it was absolutely perfect, a strong, thick stalk, huge leaves, and about twelve feet tall.  I did notice that at its base it bulged above the soil surface rather than beneath it.
     I propped it back up.  I don't know if there's much hope for it, but I was really hoping to save the seeds from this flower.  I'm glad I at least snapped this picture when I did.

Thou Shalt Not Shop On Sunday

          I was born on a rainy Sunday (so my mother told me), but that's not why it's my favorite day.  Waffles are the real reason.  That's not entirely true either, but they are nice.  To me, Sundays are vacations from the other days.  I don't remember any real rules while growing up for keeping the Sabbath other than going to mass.  But I suppose we traditionally did...nothing.
     I've had the opportunity to become acquainted with several Jews over the years and I've always been struck by their sense of tradition (TRADITION!).  This was most clear by their keeping of the Sabbath.  No work, no driving, it's God's day.  There was no gray area for them, the rush of daily life was put to rest from sun up to sun down once a week.
     As a parent, I feel the need to give my children that gift of rest, but also more defined than it was for me, so that they can observe it with more of an understanding.  We have our own Sabbath rules we stick to.  I think it's different for everyone.  When I was working twenty-four hour shifts there were weeks when our Sabbath was on Saturday (like the Jews) rather than on Sunday, but we kept the mass as the center of our day as well as keeping it completely free of any servile work.
     We started to save sweets for the Sabbath too--that's mostly to be healthy through the week and prevent the kids from a regular sugar high.  It also makes the day that much more celebratory.

Thou shalt not blog on Sunday either..

     We don't shop; which I totally recommend.  There's no reason for half the places to be open when they are (not to mention for twenty-four hours).  There is nothing so different about the world now that we couldn't just hold off a day like they did half a century ago.  If you keep that rule strictly you'll be better organized at getting stuff done during the week.  If nobody was shopping on Sunday, the stores wouldn't need to be open and all of those employees, or all of us that have to go to our crummy jobs, could be stretched out on a hammock or sitting on a mountain top.
     I wish I could cut out driving too.  (I don't mean everyday, well...I do, but first the Sabbath.)  That would require saying "no" to a lot of people, and that's really hard.  Weekends are when everything is going on, and the desire to still be doing something is strong.  I think car culture must have given secular society it's wheels.
     The day, then, is family day for us.  The electricity may stay on, for now, but mostly just to run the waffle iron.  We rest, and recharge, and trust me, once you do this you won't know how you lived without it.