There is something deeply liberating about starting over.
If you are at all self-reflective, a move or a break-up, and especially a move with a break-up, gives you the opportunity to examine yourself and then decide what to keep and what to toss.
Obviously it’s not so easy as pitching an old pot or shirt, changing youself, but this particular life moment is as close as it gets to easy. You’ve shed your routine, and your personal environment, and now you must rebuild it.
I’ve been doing that every day, all day, since long before I returned from grouse camp. But these past couple weeks I’ve been in high gear. And I’ve felt something I haven’t for a long while: serene.
My days are spent setting up Hunter Angler Gardener Cook in this new place — there are a lot of mechanical things to deal with, not the least of which is getting my own photography passable, now that Holly is gone — putting together a house’s worth of furniture (I now have a great many Allen wrenches), and reading. A lot.
I’m finally reading for cooking, something I haven’t done since, well, The Before Times. The rabbit holes I currently inhabit are Volga German, Scandinavian and alpine cooking — for obvious reasons now that I live in Minnesota — as well as rye baking.
The rye kick comes from two things: First, a dear friend of mine is a fantastic bread baker, but she specializes in wheat breads. I like to zig where others zag. Rye is also very close to the heart of the culture in this region. It makes sense. So stay tuned there…
I am also reading for me, my self-development, my transformation, such as it is. For that I am reading a little book called The Four Agreements, recommended by another dear friend. While a little woo-woo juju for me, at least in the intro, the meat of the book is compelling: Short version is that the book is a guide to being more positive, to shed the nasty in us and build shields against the nasty in others.
It’s something I need, because I have, for decades, “harnessed the power of negative energy” to succeed. To me that means gaming out all the horrific possibilities any scenario might bring, dealing with them in my mind, so that if, God forbid, one actually happens, I will be mentally able to cope.
I will still do that, but what I’m starting to do is, once that’s done, leave it in an alcove in my mind instead of gripping it like Willy Wonka’s golden ticket. This process, and I, remain a work in progress. Baby steps.
It’s not all mental work here. I am also happily setting up my office, where I am writing this right now, my kitchen, where the meat of my work happens (pun intended), as well as the rest of my new home in St. Paul.
My kitchen is larger than the one in Sacramento, although still small. It lacks a range hood, which I am rectifying later this month, and its storage is awkward, which I am fixing this week. The stove is, well, OK — I might treat myself to a nice one at some point — and the rest is lovely. It will be a joy to create things for you in that space.
I am reasonably proud of my office. One downside of my old house was a lack of storage; this one has plenty. That made my office clunky and cluttered; ugly, if useful. With a chance to create anew, I chose a south-facing room at the front of my house, so sun streams in during the morning when I am most productive.
The previous owner painted the walls a rich blue over white, so I went with it: Everything is blue, white or a warm gray that plays well with it. I know, right? Hank Shaw gives a shit about interior design? It surprised even me how much it calms me to be able to work in a nice environment.
I have a desk that looks out my front window, plenty of sun (I am a solar-powered human), clean if not austere decor, and two bookcases filled with my most important cookbooks. One whole case is stuffed with the books that will inform my next book, a cookbook covering northern Mexican cuisine. Stay tuned for more on that.
The other rooms are in various states of construction, but for our purposes these two are the most important: They let me be me again. They let me return to creating recipes and techniques that will help you over at Hunter Angler Gardener Cook.
Finally, my personal life is smoothing out. I’m getting reacquainted with my Minnesota friends, and can spend more time giving in my relationships no matter where they are: I feel like I’ve taken all year, and now it’s time to pay it forward. Finally.
Nice!!!
and lovely photos - I like the wall colors as well -
Looking forward to your next creations :)
Glad to hear your settling in. Enjoy the process.... the journey is it - there is no destination. 👍👍👍