The Trail

Sorry for the crappy cell phone pictures -- it's all I carry when I'm hiking.
I will be buying a durable point-and-shoot soon!
I've been more active in the past couple days than I have been in weeks. Sad, but true -- daily 30-minute walks aren't cutting it. I had Thursday and Friday off, thanks to some Jewish holidays, but found myself without anyone to share the days with. I did what I often do in this situation: I harnessed Dexter and hit the woods.

On Thursday I took a 3.43 mile baby-hike around the Watchung Reservation. Friday we doubled it with a 6.65 mile hike at Jockey Hollow. We hiked the longest trail they had to offer, and it felt amazing! I honestly could hike forever. I had Dexter attached to my waist and he's learning to walk without breaking me in half. I'll probably order a padded "hands-free belt leash" (Dan, go ahead and laugh) in the next few days.

Anyway... while hiking around Jockey Hollow, I started thinking. I'd love to do a really long, multi-day hike -- maybe through part of the Appalachian Trail. I still need to learn a lot -- especially how to pack for such a trip. I'll spend the next year or so training. I need to increase my speed and trail length considerably before I can do anything too extreme (or Xtreme). Not to mention get some real hiking boots -- I don't think Converse sneakers are doing my body any good.

One of the best things about all this hiking is that it makes for one tired dog! On Saturday, Dex accompanied me to the Tails of the Tundra Siberian Husky Rescue fundraising event. It consisted of a two mile hike and lots of other dog-friendly activities. It was really more of a walk than an actual hike, but since I spent the day taking photos and Dexter spent it wrestling huskies, we were both sufficiently exhausted by the time we got home.

Sunday was also spent with canines -- this time, the Howling Woods Farm wolfdogs. No hiking was involved, though. Just taking pictures and educating the crowd. Unfortunately, Dexter had to stay home this time -- not sure my wolfy friends would appreciate his company.

I have more days off at the end of this week, and I plan to scope out some more hiking destinations. If it's cold enough, I may even bike with Dex. We'll see!

My Bread Making Adventure: Part III

First, a disclaimer: this isn't the third time I've made bread with my bread machine. I've probably made about a dozen or so loaves by now. This is, however, the third time I've blogged about it. :)

This loaf was rather experimental. I didn't have all the necessary ingredients for the recipe I was using, so I improvised a little. I have to say, I'm pretty happy with the results.

The original recipe was Bruce's Honey Sesame Bread, but here's what I used:

• 1 1/4 cups water
• 1/4 cup honey 3 tablespoons sugar (I love honey, but it just doesn't pack the same punch as sugar)
• 1 tablespoon powdered buttermilk 1/2 tablespoon powdered milk, 1/2 tablespoon plain, low-fat yogurt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 3 cups bread flour
• 3 tablespoons wheat bran 3 tablespoons whole wheat flour
• 1/2 cup sesame seeds, toasted
• 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast

I can't guarantee that my adjustments make this bread any better or any worse than the original recipe. However, the end result came out quite tasty. The outside was flaky and crispy -- a feat I had yet to accomplish with my bread machine. The inside stayed light and fluffy, with a rich, sesame flavor. Warning: if you don't like sesame seeds, I'd avoid this recipe. Luckily, I love them.

Anyway, I hope my frequent gushing about the wonders of the almighty bread machine have inspired you to make your own breads. You don't need to be the next Rachel Ray, it really isn't even cooking. It's putting-stuff-in-a-pot-and-leaving-it-for-a-few-hours-ing.

Bread is such a staple of day-to-day consumption -- at least, for me. Being able to produce my own gives me the opportunity to save money, eat better, and get creative. So find a $10 bread machine at your local thrift store (I promise, there will be at least three at any given time) -- and get baking!

The Harvest

Yesterday we drove up (er, west, technically) to Chester, NJ to visit one of my favorite farms. I admit, it's very commercialized -- it's as much a tourist destination as it is a working farm. But that seems to be the norm with a lot of NJ farms. I guess we're lucky it's that way -- I don't know any farmers personally, so I doubt I'd get the chance to visit a farm any other way.

We picked a bunch of apples, peppers, eggplants, tomatoes, and raspberries. We grabbed some other produce, cider, pumpkin pie, pumpkin butter, and fresh eggs at their little farmer's market. I love supporting local farms. There's something comforting about food that wasn't trucked half way across the country.

Afterwards, we ended up at our usual supermarket to pick up some stuff we couldn't get at the farm. While browsing, I noticed that the raspberries they were selling came from Guatemala! It's kind of scary to think about how far our food travels. And isn't it weird that we're eating the produce of places we've never even visited? It always bothered me that all my clothes and, well, almost everything I own was made far away, in places I've never seen. But my food, too? Something that only stays in my fridge a week or two, has seen more travel than my 23-year-old body.

The only solution is to take advantage of more locally-grown foods (and anything else, for that matter), and to travel more. I need to see more of the world than my raspberries have!

Rough Times Ahead

I'm 23-years-old. I shouldn't be giving my 51-year-old father resume tips and job hunting advice. It's supposed to be the other way around.

Yet here we are. After working with The Star Ledger for, oh I don't know, his entire adult life -- they're screwing him over once again. This time, it's the last straw. I don't want to go into too much detail, as it's his business, not mine. But he's depressed, angry, frustrated, and afraid. When his personal life is so drastically effected (an ongoing thing with this job), it becomes my business.

My dad faces a relatively hopeless job market with experience from only one employer. It's good experience, it's managerial experience. But who wants to hire someone they have to pay a decent wage, when they can just hire somebody straight out of college, with fewer responsibilities, and willing to work for scraps? Hence the ongoing collapse of our economy.

I'll do everything I can to help. I may even move back home and start paying my parents rent, if things get really tough for them. I rather have my rent money go to my parents, so they can keep our house, instead of living in our new apartment. It sucks, but I know that's what I'd do.

Ultimately, my parents will end up selling the house -- but I'm pretty sure that was their retirement plan. They don't want to pull Brianna out of school and away from her friends -- not when she's so close to graduating.

I hope my dad is pleasantly surprised. I hope he finds a job with human hours (not 3 AM to 11 AM), better pay, weekends off, better management, and more respect for their employees. He fucking deserves it.

Okay, Fine, I'm Back on Blogger

Just a quick update -- you may have noticed I transferred a bunch of my Tumblr entries back onto this Blogger account. I haven't decided where I'll be settling, permanently -- heck, I might post new entries on both. I'm leaning towards Blogger, though, simply because it's more customizable and I follow more blogs on here.

So if you follow me on here, stay tuned for more updates.

A Girl Can Dream

(Photo taken at Ort Farm in Long Valley, NJ)

It’s kind of crazy for a little suburban girl to want to uproot to the middle-of-nowhere, start a small farm and train a sled dog team. But I guess I’ve never been all that sane.

Yesterday I biked around Sandy Hooky with my dad, Dan and Dexter. The weather was just cool enough for Dexter to run the whole five or six miles without any problem. It felt great to be back on my bike after a month without it (although my knees thought otherwise at 4 am this morning).

On the way down to the shore, my Dad and I talked about selling the house and moving to the country. We’d get a little house on a big piece of land, and raise alpaca. My mom would grow her fruits and vegetables on a larger scale, and my sister would make farm-fresh baked goods (pies, muffins, etc.). We’d sell our goods at farmers’ markets, or maybe in our own little country store.

I’d still do graphic design, but I’d also tend to a small chicken coup and train sled dogs. In the fall, we’d have a pumpkin patch for people to visit, and the sled dogs would cart around guests’ pumpkins. In the winter, we could pull people around on sleds. A taste of Alaska, right in New Jersey.

Of course, this is all just a fantasy. Fun to think about, but something my parents won’t really do. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’m looking at farms for sale right now. Much too early to seriously consider, but fun to dream. A few more years of working and building my freelance portfolio, and paying a mortgage won’t be out of the question — especially if it’s on a little farm in bumble-fudge.

In the mean time, I guess I’ll keep working with Dexter. Hopefully in the spring I’ll get another sled-worthy dog, and by the following winter I’ll have them training together. I also hope to have a successful garden next spring/summer. My own miniature, back-yard farm.

A girl can dream — even if it’s not about handsome men, expensive shoes, or designer purses.