We are fermenting in our kitchen. Yesterday, I had sourdough bread rising, beet and apple kvass to be sampled, beet and horseradish kvass chopped and resting on the top of the fridge, and two jars of cabbage chopped, massaged with salt, and packed full, then pressed down with the glass fermentation weights. We started with sauerkraut right before the pandemic and I was convinced that the live bacteria kept us healthy all spring that year. When yeast was scarce, we started a sourdough culture because I always wondered about wild yeasts in the air of my kitchen. Now, along with kombucha and yogurt, the live yeasts are wildly multiplying, usually on top of the fridge.
When the heat was out for two weeks, we returned to our old habit of closing the curtains at night to keep in the heat. Mark wandered around for several days, pointing the covid pruchased forehead thermometer at everything he found—the wall, the cat, himself….one day, he hit the window with the curtains open followed by the window with the curtains closed. Four degrees difference! “Hey,” he called out, “that is significant!” Now, when I am late coming home, he closes the curtains himself. The room feels more cozy, especially with the heat back on.
In winter, our bedroom is cold. I shut the heating vent into the room and hang a heavy curtain over the door. We open the window by our heads every night. The cat loves it; she curls up on my pillow, right over my head, sucking in the heat radiating off of me and loving the cool air on her full fur coat. We snug down under a heavy pile of blankets, lots of layers so that we can adjust to a warm spell moving in with the rains. I sleep better on these long cold nights than any other time of year, like a bear hibernating in a den.
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