Today was fine and warm, and this afternoon, I biked to the Winthrop Food Pantry to take people around as they chose the food from what we have to offer. The selection can vary, but we usually have cereal, pancake mix, pasta, macaroni and cheese, tuna fish, peanut butter, eggs, some meat, and canned soups and vegetables. Depending on what’s available at the Good Shepherd Food Bank, we also have fresh vegetables and fruit. People leave with their boxes overflowing with food, and for a few days, at least, their cupboards will be full. There will be no scarcity of food.

How appropriate, then, that this morning I should read Cass R. Sunstein’s excellent essay in the New York Review of Books about the effect that scarcity has on people, how it alters the way they think and how they plan. In his piece, Sunstein reviews Scarcity: Why Having Too Little Means So Much by Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir.

In Scarcity, the authors contend that having too little—money, food, time, companionship—concentrates the mind in ways that might be good for the short term—surviving from day to day or accomplishing a certain task—but is not good for the long term. The narrow focus that scarcity fosters is bad in all kinds of ways, from planning ahead to self-control to solving problems.

Sunstein writes, “[The authors’] striking claim, based on careful empirical research, is that across all of those categories, the feeling of scarcity has quite similar effects. It puts people in a kind of cognitive tunnel, limiting what they are able to see. It depletes their self-control. It makes them more impulsive and sometimes a bit dumb…”

As Anne of Green Gables might have put it, when there is scarcity, there isn’t much scope for the imagination. The irony, of course, is that when resources are scarce, imagination and creativity are exactly what you need. But it’s very difficult to be creative and imaginative when you are wondering how in the world you are going to pay the bills and have enough left over for food.

When I tell people I volunteer at the food pantry, I sometimes get the following questions: Why don’t food pantry recipients budget better? Why do so many of them smoke? Why don’t they get a better job? Why do their families allow them to come to the pantry? In my more uncharitable moments, I sometimes wonder the same things.

But then I look at the worn, tired faces of the people who come in. Scarcity has taken its toll, and it shows in the way they move as well as on their faces. Many of the recipients look older than they are, worn done by years of worrying about money, among other things. A bit ashamed of myself, I remember my own family’s years of just getting by and how hard it was.

So here is my answer: Considering their circumstances—old age, disability, low-paying jobs—food pantry recipients are doing the best they can with what they have. And if they didn’t live with such scarcity, they would do a lot better.

Yesterday, when I was in the grocery store, I passed a display of organic milk—Horizon, I think—and on the cooler there was a sign that advertized the price—$3.79 for a half gallon. An old man was looking at the milk and the price, and as I passed, he shook his head and said, “$3.79 for a half gallon of milk.”

It just so happened that I was carrying a half gallon of Moo Milk. I held it up and said, “$3.99 a half gallon.”

The old man’s expression suggested that he thought I was a damned fool to pay so much for milk, but he didn’t say anything. He just shook his head again and walked away.

Sometimes I wonder if he is right. Am I a damned fool to pay so much for milk and other organic food, especially when we live on such a modest budget and must be very careful with our money? Even Clif wonders, from time to time, if organic food is worth it.

But then I think of the land and the water and all the poison that is dumped on food when crops are grown the conventional way. I think of the genetically modified crops that will tolerate ever more poison and the insects that continue to become resistant to the ongoing onslaught of pesticides. I think of that poison coursing through our bodies, affecting us in ways that might not be apparent until we reach middle age or older. I think of our children and how vulnerable their growing bodies are. As someone who has had cancer—3 years this August—I am not idly asking these questions. Cancer might be natural—there is indication that even dinosaurs had cancer—but it is also true that there are substances that promote cancer. Tobacco and smoking readily come to mind, but there are many other things as well.

I realize that food is only one piece of the puzzle—smoke and refuse from our factories also play their part. But food is something we can control, and indeed it is something we should control. I certainly understand that not everyone can afford organic food all the time. (I put myself in this category.) It is expensive, and I wish the government would be as generous with organic farmers as it is with the mega farms that produce food grown with pesticides and herbicides. But they are not, and organic farmers must struggle to make a profit. Hence the high prices.

Nevertheless, despite our modest budget, I will continue to buy as much organic food as I can, and that includes Moo-Milk. I might be a damned fool, but I just can’t stand the thought of all those harmful chemicals going into my body.

In last week’s Bits and Bobs from the Internet, I posted a piece from the Modern Farmer about how Maine leads the nation with its numbers of new farms and young farmers. “Farms are being started at a rate nearly four times faster than the national average, the average age of its farmers is below the national — and rapidly greying — average (and keep in mind Maine is the most geriatric state in the Union), and it boasts one of the highest organic-to-conventional-farm ratios in the United States.”

So how did we do it? Is it because of our state’s vaunted work ethic, where work with the hands is still very much valued? Is it because of the rural nature of our state, where agriculture has played and continues to play a relatively major role in our economy? (Although, unfortunately, not as major as either the big box stores or tourism, both of which do not provide a living wage for most of its workers.) No doubt both of these factors have something to do with it. Successful farms need people who are willing to work hard and land for them to grow their crops.

But they also need something else—larger societal support. The same piece in the Modern Farmer goes on to list the various ways Maine supports its farmers, with organizations such as Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association (MOFGA) and Maine Farmland Trust. Apparently, even our politicians, Republicans as well as Democrats, support farmers. And finally, Maine people themselves are keen on local agriculture, and Farmers Markets and Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) are thriving.

The larger point is that although hard work and drive are necessary for farmers to be successful, those qualities might not be sufficient without a broader network of support. The Good Shepherd Food Bank’s motto is “We are better together,” and this is true for almost every human endeavor, from art to literature to farming. When the larger culture supports, say, theater or literature or the visual arts or, yes, farming, then those things flourish. Without that support, certain strong-willed individuals might be able to make a go of it, but they will be the exceptions rather than the norm.

A few random examples: Copenhagen, Denmark, has a vibrant bike culture that the state actively supports with miles and miles of dedicated bike lanes; In Elizabethan England theater flourished because it was supported at the highest levels. As soon as the Puritans took control, theater shrivelled; In Renaissance Italy, it was the visual arts, and again, there was support at the highest level.

In this country, while we place a high value on individual initiative, we tend to underestimate the importance of the larger, societal support. In fact, both are needed, and we—as a state, as a country—should always keep this in mind.

Our own Farmer Kev, who delivered vegetables yesterday, is as hardworking as a person can be. His parents support him and help him. Many in Winthrop support him by being a part of his CSA. I hope Maine will support him by providing help—both financial and practical—so that someday he can get his own farm.

My husband, Clif, and I have made an August resolution. We have decided to squeeze out as much fun and enjoyment as we can from this last month of summer. We both know what’s around the corner—-many, many months of dark and cold where we spend way too much time inside. So this month, our philosophy is this: let us bike when we can and eat on the patio as often as possible. In addition, we want to go to the summer art exhibits and get together with family and friends. (But then again, we always like to get together with family and friends, regardless of the time of year.)

The month is still new, and already we are off to a good start. Last weekend, we went to the Portland Museum of Art to see the William S. Paley Collection: A Taste for Modernism. Our son-in-law, Mike, joined us as did our nephew, Patrick, who is majoring in art at the University of Maine at Orono. We spent an absorbing hour or so looking at works by Picasso, Matisse, Cézanne, Rodin, and many other artists from that period. I especially enjoyed hearing Mike’s and Patrick’s take on art. Both young men have a terrific feel for art, and they bring a fresh perspective when they look and comment.

On Sunday, our friends Margy and Steve came over for a barbecue. The day started out sunny and warm, but this summer, the rain never stays away for very long, and on Sunday it came just before Margy and Steve arrived. Never mind! When we saw the sky turn gray and heard the thunder rumbling nearby, Clif quickly made some of his legendary grilled bread, which we all ate inside while it poured outside. However, by the time we had finished with wine, beer, grilled bread, and other appetizers, the rain had stopped, and the sun came out. With towels to mop up the water, we went to the patio for grilled chicken and grilled zucchini topped with feta and a sprinkle of thyme. We also had Farmer Kev’s new red potatoes and his green beans. Lots of good talk about theater, politics, and other matters. Then back in we went for dessert—-Margy’s tasty banana bread and my homemade vanilla ice cream.

Yesterday, I went to my friend Barbara’s house for talk, tea, and dessert. She served a selection of goodies, and while they were all tasty, her chocolate chip pie was especially good. Because the chocolate chip pie is a Hannaford recipe—unfortunately it’s not on their website—I can’t really share it with you, but this recipe from Southern Food comes close. The Hannaford recipe uses 1 cup of brown sugar rather than the granulated sugar and an extra teaspoon of vanilla. It cooks at a very low temp—300 degrees—for 55 minutes to an hour. The taste is similar to that of pecan pie, but not as rich. I plan on making it for our next gathering.

So August, here we come. A great beginning to what is usually a beautiful month.

In a perfect world, I would get up at 6:00 a.m., maybe even earlier. By 8:00 a.m. my blog post would be written, and if it was summer, I would be ready to pick berries. Then, there would be a flurry of jam making, with plenty of time to do some house cleaning, work on other writing projects, and make a wonderful dinner.

In a perfect world, my house would be as clean as my Franco mother’s house, so clean that if I won a session with a professional house cleaner, then that cleaner would wonder what in the world she should clean. (This actually happened to my mother.) Closets would be organized and clothes and linen would be sorted. The dishes in the hutches would get a regular cleaning, instead of a last-minute washing-up of only the items that are absolutely needed at an given time.

In a perfect world, my volunteer work at the food pantry and the library would blend seamlessly with my housework, cooking, and writing. Need someone to head a committee? No problem. I am your woman. Need someone to head the whole darned organization? Ditto!

In a perfect world I would be so organized that I would be the marvel of Winthrop. Lists, flow charts, and Staples would be my best friends. Filing systems would not flummox me, and anything involving packets or keeping track of checks would be child’s play.

In a perfect world, all the food we eat would either be organic or local. My food budget would be twice as big as it as now, and cost would not be a worry.

Oh, the things I could accomplish if I lived in a perfect world. But in reality, the above scenarios are nice fantasies with a grain of truth.

In the real world, I am an insomniac who seldom gets to sleep before midnight and often it’s more like 1:00 a.m. Getting up at 6:00 a.m. is out of the question. Because of this, my blog posts are seldom done until 11 a.m., and there is no berry picking in the morning. In fact, there is usually no berry picking at all. Somehow, with just one car and our busy schedules, there never seems to be time. And no berry picking means no homemade jam.

Then there is housework. As my mother once observed, “Laurie, your house is good enough.” And I knew just what she meant. I’d never win any prizes for cleanliness, but neither did it disgust my mother to be in my house. Fortunately, she did not poke around my closets, hutches, or drawers. Otherwise, she might have changed her assessment.

In the real world, I do volunteer at the food pantry, and I am a trustee at the library, but I will never agree to be the head of either the food pantry or the trustees. I just don’t have the temperament to do so.

Or the organization. Filing continues to baffle me, and it has taken me months to come up with a system to compile packets for the library expansion. As for flow charts, well, let’s just say that I’ve never made a flow chart.

Let’s face it: In the real world, I never do as much as I would like to do. It’s frustrating at times, but that’s the way it goes.

But here’s what I do accomplish: I keep the house and the yard reasonably clean. I make all our bread and muffins. I cook dinner almost every night. I do volunteer work at the food pantry and the library. I’m not organized, but I work hard, and when I say I’m going to do something, I do it. (Barring unforeseen circumstances, of course.) I write blog posts regularly and work on other writing projects.

I regularly ride my bike. I invite family and friends over for meals and celebrations. I buy as much local and organic food as our budget allows.

It’s a patched-together kind of life, and I expect many women (and men) have this same kind of life. They do as much as they can, knowing they will never be able to do as much as they want. Is it enough? Funny thing that in the end, it usually is. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to improve and learn new skills. Of course we should. But there are only so many hours in the day, and we all have to pick and choose how we are going to fill those hours.

So let’s hear it for the real world and stop longing for the perfect life, which doesn’t exist and never will.

A couple of days ago, my friend Kate Johnson sent me a picture of a castle she had made. But this wasn’t an ordinary castle. Instead, it was made out of Rice Krispies, and it was a cake for her daughter’s wedding shower. It seems that her daughter is crazy about Rice Krispie squares. (I also have a daughter who has a soft spot for them.) Using a brown-butter Rice-Kripsie square recipe from Smitten Kitchen, Kate had at least one trial run that I’m aware of before she made the cake for the shower. Kate first made them in cupcake form, but she was not pleased with the results, and she eventually came up with the idea of making them into the shape of a castle.

How much easier it would have been to go out and buy a cake, but also how much less rewarding. There is something intensely satisfying about making things by hand for special events for the ones we love. Whether we make castles or crackers, ice cream or gingersnaps, mittens or socks, we are giving a piece of ourselves, our time and energy. Truly, handmade items are gifts from the heart.

Few of us have the time or the expertise to make everything by hand, the way our ancestors did in the old days. However, with a lot of creativity and a little planning, most of us can at least make some things by hand to give to family and friends on special occasions.

The handmade life seems to be making a comeback, at least among certain people. Perhaps it never really went away and was just simmering under the surface, waiting for the right time to reappear. I, for one, am heartened by this, and I hope the trend continues.

Last Thursday, I went to a terrific State Network Conference sponsored by the Good Shepherd Food Bank. The conference was conveniently held in Augusta, and JoEllen and Mike, the Winthrop Food Pantry’s director and the president, respectively, also went. The conference was well attended—150 people came from 80 agencies, and every county in the state was represented. The drive to Augusta from Aroostook or Washington County is quite a drive, and I admire the dedication of the folks, often volunteers, who travelled that distance to come to this conference.

It’s not hard to understand why people from various food pantries, soup kitchens, and other hunger relief agencies came from such a distance—feeding people is serious business. While those of us who volunteer at food pantries like to keep our message upbeat, the challenges of what we do cannot be underestimated. Most of the money we receive comes from donations, and that money has to stretch further and further as more people need help. (As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, in the past few years, the number of recipients coming to the Winthrop Food Pantry has doubled.) At the same time, the Good Shepherd Food Bank, which once provided 90 percent of the Winthrop Food Pantry’s food for 16 cents a pound, no longer gets the large donations of food it once did. Groceries stores have become more efficient and thus waste less. In the larger scheme of things, it is a good thing to waste less, but for food pantries, this puts a strain on already tight budgets. And looming dark and large for all food agencies across the country are the proposed cuts to the federal food stamp program, now known as SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program.) Even if only the “moderate” cuts are enacted, this will have a huge effect on food agencies, and there was a feeling of dread at the conference as this was discussed.

However, the feeling of dread passed, and overall the mood at the conference was upbeat. After all, everyone was there because they like feeding people, and there is always a joyful feeling around such people.

The day was divided into breakout sessions, and my favorite was Media Relations 101 led by Clara McConnell Whitney. In 45 minutes, with the effective and snappy use of a power-point presentation, Whitney gave us a crash course in how to use the media to benefit agencies who work to relieve hunger. I took notes like a crazy woman, and by the end, I thought, “I can do this.” I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a conference workshop that was as informative and useful.

Another highlight was an engaging video made by the Tree of Life Food Pantry in Blue Hill. (Yes, it features music by Noel Paul Stooky, who lives in that area.) There is a shortened version on their website. Do take a look if you get a chance. Unfortunately, one of the funniest and most memorable recipients, an elderly women, was not included in the shortened version.  She said, “I’d rather be a giver than a taker, but when you get to be 93 years old, what the hell are you going to do?”

What the hell, indeed? At 93 years old, this woman shouldn’t have to worry about where her next meal is coming from, but that’s the way it goes for many elders in this country where social security benefits are often too low to cover the cost of living. At the Winthrop Food Pantry, we have many senior citizens who live on a very limited budget, and according to JoEllen, one such woman receives the princely sum of $40 a week in SNAP benefits.

I began this post with a tip of the hat to the Good Shepherd Food Bank Conference, but I am going to end it with a wag of the finger. While remaining upbeat is laudable, it is also wrong to turn away from the darker realities. As always, unless noted otherwise, the views expressed in this blog are my own and do not represent anyone but me.

In the United States, we are generous as individuals. I see it in Winthrop on a regular basis through my volunteer work with the food pantry and the library. People unselfishly give both time and money. However, as a country we are stingy and Puritanical, giving grudging amounts to social services that are needed now more than they ever have been. It is beyond the scope of this post to really go into the issues that have made our society more fragile and more on edge, but they can be briefly summed up this way: Too many people—an ever-increasing population—competing for limited jobs and resources, which is exacerbated by the rise in power of organized money.

While there are no utopias on Earth and never can or should be, there are countries who are doing better than we are. Chiefly, Scandinavia and Germany. It is my hope, perhaps a vain one, that our country will adopt many of their policies. If we did, there would not be the need for the myriad food pantries in this state and country.

Until that time comes, I will continue to volunteer at the Winthrop Food Pantry.