historical farm life
Aug. 27th, 2025 06:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_shoshannaThanks to dorinda, I've been introduced to the BBC's historical farm series, in which a historian and a couple of archeologists spend a year working a farm as it would have been worked in some historical period, ranging from WWII to the Tudor era. I really like them! They're not deep history, but seeing how things work in practice (what does it look like, feel like, smell like to thatch a roof? make cheese? light a coal range?) is fascinating, and the people doing it are delightful. It's generally the same three in all the series, with a couple others popping in -- I'm really sorry Chloe Spencer, who was in the first series, didn't return for the later ones, because I really liked her, and it was nice to see two women working together; after that it's just Ruth Goodman, the historian, with a couple of men. (Except that her daughter, a specialist in historical clothing, sometimes joins her, which is very fun!)
I love how the reenacters interact with each other. They all get along, and there's no manufactured tension, just occasional gentle joshing, as when Peter lost the dice throw and had to be the one to dig out the seventeenth-century-style privy they'd been using. ("This job is grim," he tells the camera.) The food is especially interesting to me! It looks more varied and tastier than I'd often have expected; obviously most of the recipes that survive from the earlier periods are on the luxe end, and they're portraying fairly well-off farmers, but even so, when you're sticking to period ingredients and cooking methods (no cooking oil or fat other than animal fat! sealing the oven door with flour-and-water paste!), I was expecting a bit more, well, pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, you know? Which, to be fair, they do also eat. And the WWII urgency to massively increase domestic food production, which (not being British) I didn't really know about, drives that series in fascinating ways -- as do the effects of rationing.
It took me a long time to think, wait, are they really drinking raw milk in all these early-set series? It sure looks like it! At the beginning of the first series, I think it was, which reenacts 1620, the voiceover notes that, due to modern health and safety laws, they can't actually live in the cottage; but then later on they do seem to be living in it, given that they're using the privy at night (and washing clothes with ammonia derived from their own rotted urine), so I'd love to know more about that kind of behind-the-scenes stuff. Sometimes I almost yelp "At least tie a cloth over your faces!" when they're doing something like sweeping out decades of powdery dried birdshit from cottage rafters. (Did you know that the wing of a goose makes an excellent duster! I do, now!) But in general I trust that they took reasonable safety precautions, despite the occasional offhand comment about falling off a roof or being butted by a cow...and anyway the shows are 12-20 years old, so it's too late to worry about it!
But they're pleasant and interesting and warmly human and I recommend them to anyone who might like that kind of thing, because it's the kind of thing you might like! Also some of the scenery and cinematography is gorgeous.
dorinda, I've been introduced to the BBC's historical farm series, in which a historian and a couple of archeologists spend a year working a farm as it would have been worked in some historical period, ranging from WWII to the Tudor era. I really like them! They're not deep history, but seeing how things work in practice (what does it look like, feel like, smell like to thatch a roof? make cheese? light a coal range?) is fascinating, and the people doing it are delightful. It's generally the same three in all the series, with a couple others popping in -- I'm really sorry Chloe Spencer, who was in the first series, didn't return for the later ones, because I really liked her, and it was nice to see two women working together; after that it's just Ruth Goodman, the historian, with a couple of men. (Except that her daughter, a specialist in historical clothing, sometimes joins her, which is very fun!)I love how the reenacters interact with each other. They all get along, and there's no manufactured tension, just occasional gentle joshing, as when Peter lost the dice throw and had to be the one to dig out the seventeenth-century-style privy they'd been using. ("This job is grim," he tells the camera.) The food is especially interesting to me! It looks more varied and tastier than I'd often have expected; obviously most of the recipes that survive from the earlier periods are on the luxe end, and they're portraying fairly well-off farmers, but even so, when you're sticking to period ingredients and cooking methods (no cooking oil or fat other than animal fat! sealing the oven door with flour-and-water paste!), I was expecting a bit more, well, pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, you know? Which, to be fair, they do also eat. And the WWII urgency to massively increase domestic food production, which (not being British) I didn't really know about, drives that series in fascinating ways -- as do the effects of rationing.
It took me a long time to think, wait, are they really drinking raw milk in all these early-set series? It sure looks like it! At the beginning of the first series, I think it was, which reenacts 1620, the voiceover notes that, due to modern health and safety laws, they can't actually live in the cottage; but then later on they do seem to be living in it, given that they're using the privy at night (and washing clothes with ammonia derived from their own rotted urine), so I'd love to know more about that kind of behind-the-scenes stuff. Sometimes I almost yelp "At least tie a cloth over your faces!" when they're doing something like sweeping out decades of powdery dried birdshit from cottage rafters. (Did you know that the wing of a goose makes an excellent duster! I do, now!) But in general I trust that they took reasonable safety precautions, despite the occasional offhand comment about falling off a roof or being butted by a cow...and anyway the shows are 12-20 years old, so it's too late to worry about it!
But they're pleasant and interesting and warmly human and I recommend them to anyone who might like that kind of thing, because it's the kind of thing you might like! Also some of the scenery and cinematography is gorgeous.
it's been way too long
Aug. 26th, 2025 04:12 pmthe_shoshannahave a recipe! I've made this twice in the last week or so, it's freaking fantastic.
Roasted Squash and Kale Salad
2 delicata squash
olive oil
2 bunches kale
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
¼ tsp smoked paprika
¼ tsp ground nutmeg
⅛ ground cloves
⅛ cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes
½ Tbsp brown sugar
1 cup pecans, roughly chopped
½ cup dried cranberries
½ red onion, minced
2 Tbsp maple syrup
1 Tbsp Dijon mustard
1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp lemon juice
Preheat oven to 425°F. Halve the squash lengthwise, scoop out seeds, and slice into half-inch-thick semicircles. Toss squash pieces with a little olive oil and spread them on a couple of baking trays (I use silicone baking mats), overlapping as little as possible. Bake about 25 minutes, until some pieces are browning on top; flip them halfway through if you like. When they come out, dump them into a large bowl.
Meanwhile, strip the kale leaves from the stems and roughly chop the leaves. (I generally dice the stems and save them for soup or the like, but you can also dice them and use them here, or just toss them if you're not a fan.) When the squash comes out of the oven, pile the kale on the baking trays, drizzle the piles with a little olive oil, and toss and massage the leaves with your hands (watching out for the hot tray underneath) until they're well coated and a bit tender. Bake the leaves in the same oven until wilted and crisp in some spots, about 5-10 minutes. When they come out, add them to the bowl with the squash.
Meanwhile, combine the cinnamon, paprika, nutmeg, cloves, cayenne pepper, and brown sugar in a small bowl, add the nuts and 1 or 2 tablespoons olive oil, and toss to coat. When the kale comes out of the oven, spread the nuts on the baking trays (here is where a baking mat is great, since otherwise melting sugar might stick) and bake them in the same oven until toasted and candied, about 5 minutes. Add them to the squash and kale; be sure to scrape in any coating that has come off the nuts. Add the cranberries as well.
Meanwhile, in the same bowl in which you mixed the nuts and their coating (which surely still has a fair bit of leftover coating mix in it), whisk together the onion, maple syrup, mustard, balsamic vinegar, and lemon juice. Whisk in more olive oil, anything from another couple tablespoons to a quarter-cup. Taste and adjust. When you have it as you like it, pour the dressing over the salad and toss everything together. Eat warm or at room temperature.
Roasted Squash and Kale Salad
2 delicata squash
olive oil
2 bunches kale
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
¼ tsp smoked paprika
¼ tsp ground nutmeg
⅛ ground cloves
⅛ cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes
½ Tbsp brown sugar
1 cup pecans, roughly chopped
½ cup dried cranberries
½ red onion, minced
2 Tbsp maple syrup
1 Tbsp Dijon mustard
1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp lemon juice
Preheat oven to 425°F. Halve the squash lengthwise, scoop out seeds, and slice into half-inch-thick semicircles. Toss squash pieces with a little olive oil and spread them on a couple of baking trays (I use silicone baking mats), overlapping as little as possible. Bake about 25 minutes, until some pieces are browning on top; flip them halfway through if you like. When they come out, dump them into a large bowl.
Meanwhile, strip the kale leaves from the stems and roughly chop the leaves. (I generally dice the stems and save them for soup or the like, but you can also dice them and use them here, or just toss them if you're not a fan.) When the squash comes out of the oven, pile the kale on the baking trays, drizzle the piles with a little olive oil, and toss and massage the leaves with your hands (watching out for the hot tray underneath) until they're well coated and a bit tender. Bake the leaves in the same oven until wilted and crisp in some spots, about 5-10 minutes. When they come out, add them to the bowl with the squash.
Meanwhile, combine the cinnamon, paprika, nutmeg, cloves, cayenne pepper, and brown sugar in a small bowl, add the nuts and 1 or 2 tablespoons olive oil, and toss to coat. When the kale comes out of the oven, spread the nuts on the baking trays (here is where a baking mat is great, since otherwise melting sugar might stick) and bake them in the same oven until toasted and candied, about 5 minutes. Add them to the squash and kale; be sure to scrape in any coating that has come off the nuts. Add the cranberries as well.
Meanwhile, in the same bowl in which you mixed the nuts and their coating (which surely still has a fair bit of leftover coating mix in it), whisk together the onion, maple syrup, mustard, balsamic vinegar, and lemon juice. Whisk in more olive oil, anything from another couple tablespoons to a quarter-cup. Taste and adjust. When you have it as you like it, pour the dressing over the salad and toss everything together. Eat warm or at room temperature.
The Ninth of the Recced Book Reviews: America
Aug. 24th, 2025 06:50 pmbethbethbethOn May 8th, I offered to read the first five books people recced - assuming they were available (preferably from the library) - and I'd give a short review [https://bethbethbeth.dreamwidth.org/701769.html].
This is the ninth recced book review.
America (1986), by Jean Baudrillard (recced by Hannah on dreamwidth)
(Note: I read this at least a month ago, but I forgot to post the review!)
America is two entirely different books. If I hadn't felt compelled to complete America (I started it four times before I could move beyond the fifth page), I would have given up the ghost by the end of chapter one. There's no denying that it's beautifully written, poetic, philosophic, deeply thoughtful at times. I have no particular problem with his critique of America - even in what he sees as its "banality." But god, did it feel pretentious and oddly incoherent for the longest time.
It's also weirdly racist. when it most tries to be anything but, and so much of it feels just...wrong. Take his observations of New York City, for example. Yes, much is "fast" about NY - both literally and metaphorically - but of all things, cars aren't the things that are faster (those of you who have experienced an Uber taking 20 minutes to drive from 2nd Avenue to 8th Avenue know what I mean). And eating alone in New York? It isn't incredibly "sad" as Baudrillard suggests... far more often it's a way to feel a moment of pleasurable solitude in a city of so many millions of people.
Some of what I perceive as wrongness in the book could be that Baudrillard is writing about the America of the 80s, yet treating it as if that's all there is of the America of past and future instead of it being a snapshot of time. Or it could be as simple as the translation missing the point at times (although, I suspect that's not the case). But one way or the other, this America seems not just subjective, but far too often like a work of fiction.
There are also an incredible number of similes...sometimes a half dozen per page. :)
Anyway, once America hits the "Utopia Achieved" chapter, it morphs into something both readable and insightful. I'm not sure how that happened. It might possibly have been magic.
I'm not entirely sure it made up for the first 3/5 of the book, however.
This is the ninth recced book review.
America (1986), by Jean Baudrillard (recced by Hannah on dreamwidth)
(Note: I read this at least a month ago, but I forgot to post the review!)
America is two entirely different books. If I hadn't felt compelled to complete America (I started it four times before I could move beyond the fifth page), I would have given up the ghost by the end of chapter one. There's no denying that it's beautifully written, poetic, philosophic, deeply thoughtful at times. I have no particular problem with his critique of America - even in what he sees as its "banality." But god, did it feel pretentious and oddly incoherent for the longest time.
It's also weirdly racist. when it most tries to be anything but, and so much of it feels just...wrong. Take his observations of New York City, for example. Yes, much is "fast" about NY - both literally and metaphorically - but of all things, cars aren't the things that are faster (those of you who have experienced an Uber taking 20 minutes to drive from 2nd Avenue to 8th Avenue know what I mean). And eating alone in New York? It isn't incredibly "sad" as Baudrillard suggests... far more often it's a way to feel a moment of pleasurable solitude in a city of so many millions of people.
Some of what I perceive as wrongness in the book could be that Baudrillard is writing about the America of the 80s, yet treating it as if that's all there is of the America of past and future instead of it being a snapshot of time. Or it could be as simple as the translation missing the point at times (although, I suspect that's not the case). But one way or the other, this America seems not just subjective, but far too often like a work of fiction.
There are also an incredible number of similes...sometimes a half dozen per page. :)
Anyway, once America hits the "Utopia Achieved" chapter, it morphs into something both readable and insightful. I'm not sure how that happened. It might possibly have been magic.
I'm not entirely sure it made up for the first 3/5 of the book, however.
Even with ADA, you still have to work to make airports accessible for you
Aug. 19th, 2025 12:42 pmbethbethbethHelpful hint if you're becoming more disabled as you age or as a condition progresses (i.e., if you're new to seeking travel assistance): figure out what sorts of thing are challenges for you in your day to day life, and see how the airports you'll be using can help.
In my case: I have relatively bad arthritis (some weeks worse than others), use a cane, have balance issues and intermittent vertigo.
The two airports I used (O'Hare in Chicago and Sea-Tac in Seattle) are usually both on the lists of reasonably accessible airports (guides, braille elevator signs, etc), and both had free wheelchairs. This would have been great given the extremely long terminal hallways without moving sidewalks, but unfortunately, it was too late by the time I found out.
Knowing about the free wheelchairs would have been especially useful when I was heading home. The TSA lines were wildly long at Sea-Tac and even though I explained my difficulty with standing in lines to SeaTac staff, I was told I had to go to the regular line (note: a roving TSA agent ended up - unprompted (although I probably looked bedraggled :D) - moving me to a faster line, but once you invoke a disability, accommodations should be made as a matter of course.
My return trip from Sea-Tac (after 5 days of hobbling around WorldCon) was also problematic given the inclines between each gate in Terminal D. Why do you have to trudge uphill with teenagers sitting on the side ledges, hanging their legs over the banisters? I shall probably never know.
Plus, there was no seating accessible to me at SeaTac. All the chairs would have been perfectly comfortable for me to sit in, but my cartilage-light knees & my vertigo won't usually allow me to get up facing forward without something to touch for balance in front of me once I'm up. I usually need to turn sideways to get up from a chair (unless it's a relatively tall chair) and touch the back for balance (unless I'm sitting next to a wall), which isn't possible with rows of freestanding chairs that all have armrests and all face each other. In my case, I found a lovely guy at the gate next to my departure gate (my gate personnel weren't there yet) who basically stole a wheelchair (the basic airport wheelchairs are just hard chairs on wheels with movable armrests, i.e., my favorites) and brought me to my departure gate, leaving me to sit in the stolen - and oddly comfortable - chair next to something I could use for balance later for the next hour. This was great, but it took me 25 minutes finding somebody to help)
Note: when I was heading to Seattle, O'Hare's departure gate did have chairs without armrests which made it easy for me to stand up without tipping over onto my face. I don't know whether having some chairs without armrests are part of ADA compliance, but even the lobby for O'Hare's car rental and bus pickup facility had a few of those. Thank you, O'Hare.
On the plus side, there were gender free bathrooms at O'Hare (single user) and at SeaTac (including multi user). I only used the one at SeaTac and the stalls all had full-length doors, which - let's be real - all public restrooms should have. I did overhear a youngish girl - maybe 12? - expressing shock to her slightly older sister about that, but then her parents said "Go in and pee. Our flight's going to be boarding soon." Good work, parents,
In my case: I have relatively bad arthritis (some weeks worse than others), use a cane, have balance issues and intermittent vertigo.
The two airports I used (O'Hare in Chicago and Sea-Tac in Seattle) are usually both on the lists of reasonably accessible airports (guides, braille elevator signs, etc), and both had free wheelchairs. This would have been great given the extremely long terminal hallways without moving sidewalks, but unfortunately, it was too late by the time I found out.
Knowing about the free wheelchairs would have been especially useful when I was heading home. The TSA lines were wildly long at Sea-Tac and even though I explained my difficulty with standing in lines to SeaTac staff, I was told I had to go to the regular line (note: a roving TSA agent ended up - unprompted (although I probably looked bedraggled :D) - moving me to a faster line, but once you invoke a disability, accommodations should be made as a matter of course.
My return trip from Sea-Tac (after 5 days of hobbling around WorldCon) was also problematic given the inclines between each gate in Terminal D. Why do you have to trudge uphill with teenagers sitting on the side ledges, hanging their legs over the banisters? I shall probably never know.
Plus, there was no seating accessible to me at SeaTac. All the chairs would have been perfectly comfortable for me to sit in, but my cartilage-light knees & my vertigo won't usually allow me to get up facing forward without something to touch for balance in front of me once I'm up. I usually need to turn sideways to get up from a chair (unless it's a relatively tall chair) and touch the back for balance (unless I'm sitting next to a wall), which isn't possible with rows of freestanding chairs that all have armrests and all face each other. In my case, I found a lovely guy at the gate next to my departure gate (my gate personnel weren't there yet) who basically stole a wheelchair (the basic airport wheelchairs are just hard chairs on wheels with movable armrests, i.e., my favorites) and brought me to my departure gate, leaving me to sit in the stolen - and oddly comfortable - chair next to something I could use for balance later for the next hour. This was great, but it took me 25 minutes finding somebody to help)
Note: when I was heading to Seattle, O'Hare's departure gate did have chairs without armrests which made it easy for me to stand up without tipping over onto my face. I don't know whether having some chairs without armrests are part of ADA compliance, but even the lobby for O'Hare's car rental and bus pickup facility had a few of those. Thank you, O'Hare.
On the plus side, there were gender free bathrooms at O'Hare (single user) and at SeaTac (including multi user). I only used the one at SeaTac and the stalls all had full-length doors, which - let's be real - all public restrooms should have. I did overhear a youngish girl - maybe 12? - expressing shock to her slightly older sister about that, but then her parents said "Go in and pee. Our flight's going to be boarding soon." Good work, parents,