THE ART OF MAKING DO

When we lived close to grocery stores, I shopped every other day – or whenever I needed a specific ingredient. I wasn't venturesome with recipes. I hopped in the car and ran to the store with the greatest of ease. But now that we're quite a ways from a store, I practice the art of making do. I think people, especially farm families, used to make do, but I'm learning about this art on my own. My parents believed in having what they needed so that the end product would be the best possible, and I suspect this reflects the thinking of a generation that had known quite a bit about making do.

Making do has its benefits. I ask myself, "What if there were an emergency and I were suddenly responsible for feeding 15 people? Could I make a palatable, nourishing meal with the ingredients on hand? And then could I do it again tomorrow?" Thinking this way has actually made me more innovative in meal preparation and helped me keep my pantry stocked with basic ingredients. I don't think I'm paranoid about pandemics, but let's just say I'd rather be able to care for myself than begging someone else to care for me.

Last night I discovered we had no salsa on hand, so I served our tostadas with seasoned diced tomatoes. Salsa would have been better, but we made do. We'll likely run out of bread in a day or two, so we'll make do with hamburger buns. But – I found some yeast in the refrigerator and I can make some bread from scratch.

Making do also relates to emotional wellbeing. Mike and I travel between two homes and struggle to get from one house to the other with everything we need. Even when we make lists, we're apt to walk out the door without a box, a book, the cell phone, or a loaf of bread. I think it's important to accept whatever happens as an adventure because we've chosen to live this way.

Despite the unsettled weather, we did country road clean-up this afternoon. Nellie loved the good run beside the 4-wheeler, and we enjoyed watching her jump in mud puddles. Mike bathed her when we got back to the house and now she's snoozing in front of the warm fire. (And yes, I did wear my gloves – heavy gardening gloves – and washed my hands when I got home.) KW