Mother Mishap

I learned the hard way how NOT to ruin three batches of kombucha all at once. After about two weeks of letting my recent batches brew, I lifted the lids to take a look at their progress and was horrified to see mold growing on my mothers. I tried to convince myself it was something else, but there was really no way around it. I went online and discovered that the mold developed due to a hasty mistake--I was so excited to get these batches going that I forgot the starter tea. 

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THIS is a good resource for kombucha brewing and care.

HERE is a wonderful kombucha candy recipe, for all you folks who are overrun with mothers!

Kombucha, Puppies, Avocados, & Snow

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I think I might be coming a bit of a fanatic. I've got three batches going now and am about to start another. This was my first time separating a mother into pieces in order to start multiple batches (not by separating layers, but my sectioning, like a pizza), so I'm a little bit nervous that I've mucked it up somehow, but excited nonetheless.

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There's a little ginger in with the Cameronian. 

If you want to start your own batches of Kombucha, there are lots of places you can get a starter scoby/mother from, and if you're in the Carrboro, Chapel Hill area, Fifth Season is just the place. If not, you can get a piece from a friend, or grow your own from the little tiny scobies you can find in store bought Kombuchas. Check THIS BLOG out for some awesome instructions on how to both grow a scoby and prepare your own Kombucha.

At some point, you'll have more scobies than you know how to do with, so why not make some candy!? I can't wait to try this recipe out from The Cultivated Life

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If you ever find yourself in Asheville, Villagers, pictured above, is a great place to get all sorts of homesteading supplies, from books and magazines, to jars and canning supplies, to gardening, Natalie has got you covered.

 Ana: What is this stuff on my paws, anyway?

Ana: What is this stuff on my paws, anyway?

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Two nights ago I dreamed that I went to cut open two avocados I had just gotten at the store, but discovered that although the exterior seemed to be a solid form, kept in shape by the dense fruit inside, they were completely empty. The fruit had been completely scraped out. This reminds me of a poem I wrote for my manuscript Kentucky in 2012 about fertility, oyster meat being scraped away, and the cruelty of men.