A note from Christine:    
     I like Chris's pickles, and I'm not trying to be funny here.  I spent four days traveling to LA last week for meetings and while I was gone the maestro cooked up a batch of awesome pickles.  He also bakes our bread now and we grow our own lettuce, onions, tomatoes and peppers.  We're on the look out for other things that are easier than you think to make or grow, and can fuel us with less expensive, more nutritious and tastier fare.  I'm thinking granola; I've already started a grape vine so we should have our own wine in a decade or so; some chickens might be nice; perhaps a cow to milk?  Okay, for a couple of wandering minstrels who can't even commit to owning a dog because of our travel schedule, chickens and cows might be a bit ambitious.
     It's not the savings that draws us to these endeavors.  It's the call to participate in the nurturing of our bodies more directly, and to connect with our little plot of land in the middle of what has become a truly big city.  Our culture is on overdrive and in hyper-communication mode.  When Chris bakes bread he has to slow down enough to time the rising and baking and sitting and cooling processes.  When I smell it wafting through the house I not only look forward to dinnertime but I'm convinced that the aroma actually alters my biorhythms, not unlike meditation!  Now, if the pickles could speed it all back up just enough to burn those extra carbs, we'd really have something.     
     Joyful Springtime.
     Love,
     Christine