The Rowhouse

So here is the reality. We actually live in a rowhouse, a pale, blue rowhouse with a white porch on the front and a slightly purple door. We inhabit the first floor, where tall, tall windows reach for the light and old furniture seems to feel right at home. Outside, we watch the sun go down over the trees in the park across the street. In this way, I don't feel so very far from that airy farmhouse in the country.

My kitchen is quite large for a rowhouse, and is well-stocked if not in groceries than in cupboards. I am comfortable in my kitchen. It is part of the large room that serves as our kitchen, dining and living room, and therefore, is never lonely.

I am working on my pantry. I have found grocery shopping to be a complicated affair here in Baltimore. We lack may things that those of you in the Northwest seem to take for granted, things like well-stocked, independent grocery stores with glorious sections of bulk goods, and access to companies like Azure Standard. At this point I find myself driving seven miles to Trader Joe's every week, as well as stopping at our local Super Fresh and occasionally going to Whole Foods to mourn over their woefully limited bulk section. Then I remind myself that obtaining food is not necessarily supposed to be easy and that shopping is my modern burden (though truthfully I would almost rather chop a chicken's head off than go to Trader Joe's on a weekend afternoon). I have yet to sign up for a CSA and although there are several farmer's markets in the area I have not been able to settle on one for our weekly shopping needs. This, however, is no fault of Baltimore but simply my own organizational shortcomings. In short, I have much work to do.

Therefore, I am using this post as accountability-accountability for getting my city pantry stocked in a responsible and frugal fashion. For establishing a rhythm of shopping that accommodates both budget and time. For setting in motion some new habits of preservation and simplification.

I'll let you know how it goes.