Waiting for the kiln to cool: a poem

I unintentionally deleted an important Powerpoint file that I have spent hours and hours working on, and then in an effort to clear up space on my laptop, I emptied the Recycle Bin. I've tried assorted recovery suggestions, but it's gone, gone, gone.

Alas.

Losing the file made me realize how woefully disorganized my folders are, so I'm doing some housekeeping today.

Lo, I found a free-floating poem I wrote a while ago. It's now tucked safely into a folder where I may or may not ever find it again, so I'm putting it here, so it can live on da blog with assorted other poems. Pretty sure I had a melody in my brain for it, but that's deleted and emptied from my mental recycle bin, oh well.

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Waiting for the Kiln to Cool

Oh I’m waitin’ for the kiln to coo-oo-oo-ool;

Temp’s gotta drop first--I ain’t no fool!

I worked too long on chipmunks, vases, and cups!

To lift the lid now risks thermal-shock blow ups.

Well, I say that’s the case, but truth be told,

Sometimes impatient, feeling risky and bold,

Throwing caution to the wind, anti-erudite,

I peek inside the kiln above two hundred Fahrenheit!

And the pots, they go

            Ping,

                        Ping,

                                    Ping.

In the warm air of the

            Spring,

                        Spring,

                                    Spring,

So I shut the lid, and I

            Sing

                        Sing

                                    Sing

about waitin’ for the kiln to cool….

Blueberry pie and whipped cream

Seemed like a good idea when I started, but the take-away is that an immersion blender whisk is not equivalent to an electric beater, and a Dr. Oetker measuring cup is not equivalent to a German mixing beaker with silicone treads. 

After spraying the west side of the kitchen with whipping cream, I replicated the centrifugal force demo on the east side (Figures 1 & 2). 

E observed, "the remarkable thing is that you didn't get any on the pie" (Figure 3). Figuring I had done enough damage for the night, he and S sent me upstairs to shower while they cleaned up.

Figure 1: east side of kitchen post-demo

Figure 2: west side of me post-demo

Figure 3: pristine blueberry pie

The Rules of Condiments

I am getting up there in years, but I had discerned the Rules on my own by the time I was five. So had my sister, 15 months my junior, though we never spoke of them until well after we were adults. Yet we were raised by parents who had no clue, and our older brother was similarly oblivious. How did they not comprehend what is so clearly true, and good, and right?

The first Rule is this: No mayonnaise from a jar, ever. 

The second Rule follows from the first: If its ingredients are not obvious from visual inspection, do not ingest the commercial condiment. 

All other Rules follow from these two. Eat not ketchup from a bottle or plastic packet, likewise neither yellow mustard, nor homogenized ranch dressing, nor barbecue sauce. 

Know that whole-seed mustard is beloved, for it is like unto caviar for vegetarians. 

Of stone-ground mustard, be watchful: if the seeds are more than lightly crushed, let it not pass between the lips. 

Sambal oelek: beloved. Sriracha: not for eating. 

And what of pickle relish? It is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a cucumber fallen from grace, now dressed in FD&C Blue no. 1 and Yellow no. 5 and polysorbate 80. Forbidden. 

Partake then of homemade condiments. These are beloved to me, even if the ingredients evade visual identification, for who puts dicalcium sodium EDTA, high fructose corn syrup, or xanthan gum in freshly made aiolis, chutneys, or vinaigrettes? Prepare them with love; share them with friends; ingest them with joy.

Where things stand re. single use plastics

Here we are at the end of February. Has our single-use plastic consumption declined? Yeah, but...

We've only been at this for two months, but we're concluding that a life without single-use plastic is pretty darned near impossible in the U.S. without massively adjusting what we eat. Is it possible to eat 100% locally sourced foods? Probably. Are we going to try hard enough to do that? Jury's still out on that. No coffee, no chocolate, no lemons, no pears, no sugar, no lots of stuff. Maybe we can dedicate a week or two to trying this later this spring, to see how it goes...

We've made some changes that we like:

* We're much better about remembering to bring bags with us to shop at the Farmers' Market and the food co-op, and going without bags if we forget them, knowing our backpacks can handle loose radicchio, kohlrabi, and other seasonal veggies until we get them home.

* We're much better about re-using plastic bags that we might not have re-used previously, because by trying to forego plastic bags, we're realizing what a luxury a good plastic bag is.

* We're re-using glass jars to store bulk foods, and enjoying the ease of use, the visual appeal, and (hopefully) the reduction in off-gassing from plastic containers into food for long-term storage. We now use plastic mainly for storing leftovers.

* We're eating more locally-grown, seasonal foods--easy to do as spring ramps up, probably harder to do once we hit fall.

* We're eating more vegan meals. Locally, there's no way to get lactose-free milk in glass bottles, and there's no way to get dairy-free milk substitutes that aren't in plasticized containers. Going milk-free has also been abetted by a video that social media thrust at me, showing an adult cow clearly upset as a calf is being carted off in a trailer. Who knows what the cow and calf are thinking, but they're clearly thinking. As you can't get milk from cows without cows birthing calves, I'm trying to go without for now. Eggs then follow, logically. I've been a vegetarian since 1986, so it's beyond time that I try going this extra step. 

We've found some recipes worth remembering: this apple cinnamon cake (the recipe calls it "bread"--yeah, right), subbing 1/2 c. applesauce for the eggs, and 1/4 c. vegan butter substitute for the 1/2 c. butter (since applesauce is also a butter substitute). And chickpeas with broccolini (saute a good amount of sliced garlic, 2 crushed small bright red hot peppers from the stash your sister-in-law brought you from Mexico, smoked paprika, and fennel seeds in EVOO, add 1 can drained chickpeas, stir for a bit, then add a bunch of broccolini and saute until wilted. So so good. Save the chickpea water--a.k.a. aquafaba--to make coconut macaroons; these are less cloyingly sweet than the non-vegan variety.

As for making homemade vanilla extract, the most inefficient adventure imaginable to reduce single-use plastics... What was I thinking? The local bulk-foods store, Part & Parcel, was out of vanilla beans, with no anticipated back-in-stock date, so I ordered beans online. Of course they came vacuum-wrapped in huge sheets of plastic, as must all bulk vanilla beans in the U.S. Doh. But I have 24 beans soaking in a good 4 cups of vodka; shake shakety shake shake. The extract should be ready for use in about 6 months.

Durham Farmers' Market plastic-free scouting

On Saturday, we walked to the Durham Farmers' Market to scout out veggies not prewrapped in plastic, and we ended up signing up for a year with The ReCollective. The ReCollective collects "hard-to-recycle items (the stuff that can’t go in your curbside bin) that would otherwise be landfill-bound right from your doorstep and ensure they are reused or recycled in transparent and responsible ways." This includes sheet plastics, plastic wrappers, and plastic wrapping materials*--so even if we can't eliminate these from our food purchases, at least we can direct them more intentionally toward re-use and recycling. We'd heard about this business from friends who subscribe, and appreciated the opportunity on Saturday to ask questions in person. 

We then stopped by the fabulous BoxCarr Handmade Cheese stand. Their cream cheeses come in plastic containers that we can re-use; their gooey brie-like cheese are wrapped in plasticized paper; and their hard cheeses are vaccum-wrapped in plastic. I mentioned my goal of reducing my single-use plastic footprint, and asked whether they could ever wrap some of their hard cheeses in plasticized paper for us if we pre-ordered. They were very friendly about it and said they'd do it--but after chatting about it, it was clear the main impact would be more work for them with minimal environmental impact, so we probably won't end up asking them for that. The main takeaway: given the effort that goes into making a living producing cheese on a small scale, plastic wraps are essential for preventing spoilage.

We know alternatives are possible. Cheese vendors at German markets, for example, bring large rounds of cheeses to market, cut pieces to order, and wrap them in paper for each individual customer, rather than selling pre-packaged cheese. Perhaps we can find this process at Whole Foods or Harris Teeter.

*Stefan has insisted on collecting these plastics for years, even though our city recycling service won't accept them. In theory, we can drop them off at grocery stores; in practice, we store them in large plastic trash bags in our pantry or car trunk, for months and months, before remembering to drop them off at a store. Once they're dropped off, we suspect they're simply incinerated rather than recycled. The ReCollective is more specific about where they direct the materials they collect.

Avoiding single use plastic is hard to do

As 2023 headed to a close, I decided 2024 would be a good time for me to make a major effort to avoid single-use plastic.

Ten days in, I haven't gotten very far.

Here are some things that come in plastic:

* Milk (specifically Lactaid, because I've become less tolerant of lactose in my dotage). I could buy it by the cardboard-carton quart instead of by the plastic-jug gallon, but cartons also contain plastic. Or I could buy milk in glass bottles and use lactase drops to break down the lactose, a more expensive option than buying milk in larger quantities at Costco. Or I could quit consuming dairy products. As an ovo-lacto vegetarian since 1986, I've thought on and off about going vegan. If the numerous ethical and environmental animal-husbandry reasons to do so aren't sufficient motivation, perhaps rejecting single-use plastic is? 

* Cheese. Maybe I need to buy this at a grocery store deli counter instead of out of a refrigerator. I might be able to persuade one of the local cheese vendors at the Durham Farmers' Market to wrap some cheeses for me in paper instead of plastic, but there's a big monetary difference between locally made cheese and Costco's imported selection. Maybe cheese needs to become a rare treat instead of a frequent food.

* Tofu. The Co-op has dozens of plastic boxes of tofu in the refrigerator section. Perhaps I can find tofu in bulk somewhere local (and here, the walkaholic notes that this will necessitate driving; the four-mile RT walk to the co-op is more manageable than the 15-mile RT walk to the Asian food store)... Do I want to try making tofu from scratch?

* Vegan imitation animal flesh. 100% packaged in plastic. Fine, I'll stick with beans and grains and eggs.

* Cauliflower and spinach. These come pre-wrapped in plastic at the Co-op, Whole Foods, and Harris Teeter. I could buy broccoli and kale instead, or purchase cauliflower and spinach seasonally at the Farmers' Market. Eating seasonally and locally is probably the more interesting way to go.

* Coffee beans. Caffeine and I do not get along, so I've been drinking only decaf since 1986--but I do enjoy the decaf lattes S makes me for breakfast. I guess I could switch to tea...

* Tea. My most recent box of peppermint tea came wrapped in plastic, but herbal tea--and mint in particular--is easy enough to find in bulk.

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Here's the plastic inventory for last night's dinner (cauliflower cheese pie with grated-potato crust [based on the recipe from the Moosewood Cookbook], green leafy salad, and chocolate pudding): 

I bought the potatoes in bulk, so no plastic.

The onion was the last onion from a 3-lb. bag; the bag was made of plastic netting with a plasticized label. Next time, I can buy individual unbagged onions--and pay more for the privilege. 

The cauliflower came in a plastic bag that I figured I could re-use for other veggies--but the bag turned out to have slits cut into it so the cauliflower could breathe.

The eggs came in a cardboard egg carton, but the milk and cheese came in plastic. Salt, pepper, thyme--the seasonings all came in re-fillable glass containers.

S made the salad. The lettuce came from a plastic bag of five heads, from Costco, but locally grown lettuce is easy enough to purchase unbagged. Next time. 

Vinegar and olive oil came from glass bottles, but honey and stone-ground mustard both came in plastic bottles. I don't know of any bulk sources for stone-ground mustard (although last year I tried, and failed, to make whole-seed mustard from scratch), but we can switch to glass-jarred brands. Likewise honey, or I can find a source for bulk honey and re-use the bear-shaped plastic bottles.

Dessert was chocolate pudding from scratch. Milk from a plastic jug. Organic sugar from a plastic bag; we can buy sugar in a paper sack next time. The cornstarch, cocoa powder, butter, and chocolate came from non-plastic containers, although the cornstarch container has a plastic lid. Next time I can buy cornstarch in a cardboard box. Vanilla came from a plastic bottle from Costco. Homemade vanilla extract sounds like a worthwhile project.

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Sometime in the next week, I will walk over to Part and Parcel to check out their bulk offerings. I'll report back...

Walking wrap up, 2023

My goal in 2023 was to walk less than in 2022, since my 2022 mileage (3,024 miles) required an obsessiveness I didn't want to repeat. 

Goal achieved! By 4pm on New Year's Eve, I had reached 2,813 recorded miles, which is indeed less than 3,024, but still enough to say "I walked a lot."

Then I thought, "but wouldn't it be cool to have a mile total that's divisible by 3? And by 2?" So at 10pm, after dinner with friends yet before sitting around a fire pit with them waiting for midnight, S and I excused ourselves to walk a tidy figure 8 around our block and an adjacent block, and I ended the year with 2,814 miles.

2,814 is indeed divisible by 3 and by 2--and by 7 and 67. Wouldja look at that--it's the product of four distinct prime numbers! What fun! I wonder how many of those are there in the vicinity of 2,800?¹ 

Had I been paying more attention, I might have happily stopped walking at 2,813 miles, since 2,813 is a semiprime--the product of just two prime numbers (2813 = 29 * 97). By definition, those prime numbers don't have to be distinct--so the squares of prime numbers are also semiprimes.

What about products of three prime numbers? A positive integer having three distinct prime factors is called a sphenic number (by definition, no squares are allowed). Once you go from three to four prime factors, you enter the territory of k-almost primes, where k is the number of prime factors. Squares are allowed, so 2,814, with its four distinct prime factors, is 4-almost prime, but so is 16 (16 = 2 * 2 * 2 * 2). I have mixed feelings about this.

I think for 2024 I should aim for my mileage total to be a sphenic number.³

I asked ChatGPT for a list of sphenic numbers between 2,800 and 3,200, and learned that ChatGPT is as incompetent at listing sphenic numbers as it is at reading roadmaps. This both gives me hope and stokes fear: AI will never replace people, but reliance on AI will probably end civilization as we know it.

To the sphenic list rescue: The On-Line Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences! Had I stopped at 2,810 miles last year, I would have nailed it.

For those of you dear readers who are still hanging in there, here's one last, exciting tidbit tangentially related to the number 2,814. I find it delightful how easy it is to see that 7 is a factor of 2,814, compared to e.g. the less immediately obviously 7-factorable number 2,226 (also a 4-almost-prime with four distinct factors). So I asked Google if there's an easy way to quickly determine whether a number is divisible by 7, AND THERE IS!² Oh my goodness, that extra figure-8 mile at 10pm on New Year's Eve was worthwhile!

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Here are the 2023 walking stats I'm most proud of:

Longest single walk: 26.81 miles. I finally walked a marathon! Twice, actually, on January 15 and January 27. The first was my annual American Tobacco Trail long walk. The second was a repeat for a friend who had wanted to go the first time.

Number of weeks topping 100 miles: 4 (2 in June, 1 in July, 1 in November)

Most miles in a single week: 108 (July)

Number of months topping 300 miles: 2 (June and July)

Most miles in a single month: 361 (June)

Favorite multi-day walk: In June, S and I went out the front door of the familial cottage in southern Bavaria and spent 11 days hiking to Italy.

Favorite photo: Hiking up from Hallerangerhaus to the Lafatscher saddle on Day 6 of that multi-day hike: 

Nothing else new to report. All of the walking philosophy from the preceding walking-intense years still stands.

What does 2024 hold in store? Another American Tobacco Trail marathon. Another car-free February. Hopefully completing our multi-day trek southward across the Alps, from our 2023 end point to where the mountains yield to flat terrain. 

Here's to great walking in 2024!

¹Between 2,800 (my minimum mileage goal last year) and 2,850, there are three almost-primes that have four distinct prime factors: 2,805 (5 * 3 * 11 * 17); 2,814 (2 * 3 * 7 * 67); and 2,838 (2 * 3 * 11 * 43).

²To quickly determine whether a number is divisible by 7: 

(1) remove the last digit of the number; 

(2) double that digit; then 

(3) subtract that from the truncated original number. 

If the result is divisible by 7, then the original number is divisible by 7. 

For example, 2,226:

(1) remove the 6;

(2) double it (6 * 2 = 12); then

(3) subtract 12 from the truncated number (222 - 12 = 210). 

210 is divisible by 7, so 2,226 is divisible by 7. 

My mathematician dad liked general proofs over anecdotal examples, so I'm including this link for him, wherein a general proof is offered.

(And about the above example, what fun: 210 = 2 * 3 * 5 * 7 -- the product of the four smallest prime numbers. 2,226 is likewise the product of four distinct primes -- 2 * 3 * 7 * 59. Clearly 2023 has given me food for thought for my 2024 walks.)

³I was interested in the etymology of the word sphenic, so I looked it up in the etymology bible, a.k.a. the Oxford English Dictionary--and there's no entry for the word at all. Tsk. Wikipedia to the rescue: the word is from Ancient Greek σφήν (sphḗn, “wedge”), + -ic.