We are what we eat, eats...

After the hunting trip, I did not receive bundles of meat all wrapped up in packages ready to freeze....oh no, there were carcasses and ....hooves.....

The meat hung outside (it was cold) and I freaked out for a couple of nights at every sound outside, worried that the hanging meat would attract bears.

Finally, my husband butchered the meat.....and my task was to grind up and wrap the heap of meat that was left.

Now to put this into context, I used to gag at the smell of meat in butcher's shops, and was a vegetarian for fifteen years. But when in Rome, so I gritted my teeth, and shoved handfuls of meat into an electric grinder......and I was pleasantly surprised. No smell. No slime. Not much blood. No fat.

It took me about a week before I could eat it though. And when I did, the elk tasted sweet, somewhere between lamb and beef. It was good.

The other evening, we had moose. My husband didn't shoot the moose, he traded for some elk meat.

The moose was gamey. It was OK, but the flavour was quite strong. I couldn't put my finger on the flavour. It also, er....produced gas..

ME. 'I'm not sure I like the Moose as much as the Elk. The moose is "gamey"

Husband. " Yep. That's because the Moose was eating skunk cabbage. That's why you're fart....er I mean ...fluffing....

ME " That wasn't me"

Husband "If you say so. Must have been the cat"

ME 'So that flavour is skunk cabbage?"

Husband. "Yes. The Elk was sweeter because it was eating grass. If I'd shot one on the Island, then it would taste more like the moose, and it would have caused the cat to fart also"

It makes total sense of course. We are what we eat, and we are what we eat, eats. Hmmm.

Husband " That's why beef in Alberta tastes exactly like beef from the USA, the cattle eat grain. Pork eats Grain. Chicken eat grain. That's why everything tastes like chicken. That's why I like to eat meat that I hunt, and fish that I catch. And I NEVER, EVER eat prawns from Asia"

ME "Why not? I used to get them from Costco"

Husband "Because they're shit"

ME : "You're a bit biased, you think everything from BC is superior..."

Husband "No, I mean they're raised in shit"

ME "You mean shit food"

Husband "No I mean actual Shit"

Me " You're shitting me!" (sorry couldn't help it).

Turns out that prawns from Asia are raised in ditches, fattened on effluent, and then washed in bleach and sold to the unsuspecting public.

So it's not just organic for us, it's actual sea to fork. And gun to plate. And if we have to suffer some gas from the cat, at least we're not eating shit. 

Gathering Nuts for Winter......

....is something a squirrel does right? It scurries round, gathering them all up and stuffs them in a hole to eat during the dead of winter, when there are no nuts to be had.

Makes perfect sense.


I, on the other hand, do not need to gather nuts. I can have nuts anytime I want. And not just one type of nut, oh no, I can get my hands on all types of nuts, Brazil nuts, Pecan nuts, salted nuts, dry roasted nuts. I have access to those bad boys all winter long.

That's because, as a species, we've evolved, and, in our infinite wisdom, have created supermarkets.

Markets that are "Super".  Markets that have a constant supply of food from all around the world, all winter long.

I bet the squirrels are jealous.


When I lived back in Ol' Blighty, I used to visit the Supermarket almost everyday. Living in an urban centre, I very often walked to work, and would drop in on my way home, to buy groceries for dinner. Or more likely, dinner already prepared, ready for the oven. Simple.
To make myself feel like I was managing my money and budgeting like a grown-up, I would visit a larger superstore once in a while and buy some stuff in larger packages....you know, so they lasted longer.

But in no way did it ever occur to me, that I should hoard food for winter....

So imagine my bewilderment......

Husband: " I'm going hunting next week"
Me : "What for?"
Husband: "Elk. And maybe Deer."
Me: "No, I meant, what for....why?"
Husband : "To kill Elk. And maybe Deer"....clearly not understanding the question..
Me : "But why would you do that? I don't want dead stuffed animal heads on the wall...."
Husband: "No, me neither. But I do want the meat"
Me. "Ohhhhh. But isn't that hard work, I mean, they will be all covered in fur...and eww, what about the guts and stuff?"
Husband: "I'll skin them and gut them, and then you can help me butcher them..."
Me: "Whhaaatttt?
Husband: 'Yep, and then we'll have a freezer full of meat. For the winter."

For the winter. 

Putting aside images of Bambi for a minute, I thought about it and said...

'Oh yeah, I get it....like gathering nuts.."

Husband : 'Sure, I can keep the nuts. They make good eatin'...."...

Scoreboard of Dreams...

Everybody takes stock of their life at some point. Wonders what the point is. The purpose. We measure our achievements, successes, failures against our own Scoreboard of Dreams...

Ooh, nice detached family home with double garage......score 1
Yep, annual ski-ing holiday in France.....score 1
Oh, haven't got that corner office yet...........score ZERO

Trouble is, I never really figured out my Scoreboard. 

As the Cheshire Cat said to Alice...."if you don't know where you're going, any path will take you there..."

When I was about seven, there used to be a sitcom on TV called The Good Life. It was about a forty year old married man (Tom Good, played by Richard Briars) who starts to wonder about his own Scoreboard.

Wonder whether his Scoreboard was actually worth shit.

During the first episode, Tom says to his wife....

"Its just a feeling I've got....it's quality of life...if I could just get IT right"  "What's "It" ? she asked. "I don't know" he answered, "But I'll know when I find IT"

As is turns out, Tom's "IT" is jacking in his job, and turning his suburban household into a "self sufficient hobby farm", ploughing up his daffodils and planting potatoes, raising pigs in the back garden, and generally pissing off his upper middle class neighbours.

I totally loved the show. And ironically, its how my life has really ended up.

My life in a nutshell has been : Leave school, too lazy to go to University, get married, get divorced, do dead end jobs, emigrate to Canada because my boyfriend wants to go, leave boyfriend, other dead end jobs, become an Alcoholic, marry awesome guy (happy accident), get sober, write about it, end up living The Good Life without realising it..........find my "IT"

(Ha, fuck you Cheshire Cat, what do you know?)

So this is my blog. About throwing out the Scoreboard. About a way of life that I once saw on a 1970's sitcom, and ended up living....Cheers, Tom & Barbara Good.(And the BBC)

Jackie, xx