Have you ever been interested in growing mushrooms?

I’ll be totally honest. I’ve thought about learning to identify and forage for mushrooms for quite a while- but I’ve never even considered growing my own. In fact, I found the idea somewhat intimidating.

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I was offered a copy of Growing Mushrooms for Beginners: A Simple Guide to Cultivating Mushrooms at Home by Sarah Dalziel-Kirchhevel in exchange for my honest review on Amazon. When given the opportunity, I decided to say yes. After all, I might learn a new skill- and, as the author says, “Once you have a skill, no one can take it from you, it’s yours.”

I was so glad I said yes. Really, I was the perfect test subject to read this book, since I have never before attempted to cultivate fungi of any sort. After reading through Sarah’s book, I felt much more confident that I would be able to grow mushrooms at home.

I was not asked or required to write this blog post, but I really enjoyed the book and felt that some of you might benefit from it.

What is covered in Growing Mushrooms for Beginners?

This book is a beautiful, inspiring guide that covers everything you need to know to begin growing mushrooms in almost any imaginable space.

Sarah begins with a step-by-step cultivation guide, explaining everything about the process of growing mushrooms, from choosing the right variety for your circumstances, to harvesting and cooking with your fungal bounty. If you’ve never heard the words “substrate,” “spawn,” “plugs,” or “inoculation,” never fear. Sarah tells you everything you need to know without overwhelming you.

There’s a special section of the book called, “Meet the Mushrooms,” where you can read profiles on several common varieties for growing at home. There, you will learn the characteristics of each mushroom, its beginner friendliness level, the time commitment required for growing, and other details.

From there, the book dives into different growing mediums and fun projects that suit any type of space. Whether you’re growing on a log, in a bag of compost, in a mason jar, or even on a clean roll of toilet paper, Sarah covers what types of mushrooms do well in each environment and walks you through the cultivation and harvesting process.

Finally, the book wraps up with information on processing, cooking, and creating medicinal recipes with the delightful fruit of your labor.

What I loved about the book

I loved that this book was beginner friendly. A few reviews on Amazon from more experienced growers mentioned that the book was not the most extensive out there; however, the book was universally praised as a guide for beginners. That’s exactly what the book claims to be, and exactly what I needed.

I personally found the book inviting, disarming, informative, and very helpful. It introduced me to a new skill without intimidating me- and I call that a win.

I also adored the illustrations throughout the book. Liam O’Farrell’s quaint but accurate representations of mushrooms and growing mediums were just lovely. I kept paging through just to look at the pictures again and again.

What I’m trying based on what I learned in the book

I have decided to try growing oyster mushrooms as a first timer. This is because oysters are known for being beginner-friendly. They’re relatively fast colonizers, typically outgrow other competing fungi, and are easy to find from spore suppliers.

They may be considered the standard newbie choice, but I am okay with that! One success will lead me to trying another growing project, and eventually I might learn to work with different mediums and varieties.

Where to find the author

Sarah Dalziel-Kirchhevel is the founder of Wearing Woad, and is a partner at Joybilee Farms. She is a fiber artist and gardener from rural Canada who loves to help others grow and cook their own food.

You can purchase Growing Mushrooms for Beginners here.

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I’m super stoked to have a guest post featured on Money Saving Mom this week for the first time! If you haven’t visited Crystal and her extraordinarily resourceful blog yet, please do! She is a source of inspiration for spending less, frugal and healthy home management, and good stewardship of the gifts we have. Following is an excerpt from my post.

I thought I was pretty good at avoiding food waste, until I cleaned out my fridge a couple weeks ago.

Ugh. Do I really have a science experiment growing on the back of the bottom shelf?, I thought to myself. Why yes, yes I did. I found myself disgusted with the amount of food I had let slide past my attention.

While it was a disheartening cleaning session, I finished with renewed vigor to cut back my waste — and hey, maybe save a few bucks at the same time!

Is food waste a problem in your house too? Here’s how you and I can put less food in the garbage and more in our bellies.

Click here to read the full post.

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This post is a submission to the Living Well Spending Less Secret 13 essay contest. You can find out more about the contest here, read about Ruth’s new book here, and visit the blog itself here to read finalist’s essays every Tuesday morning. Thank you, Ruth, for the opportunity to participate!

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I study the grimy, peeling linoleum on my kitchen floor. The textured yellow-brown pattern glares back at me silently. The refrigerator hums. Tim creaks the piano bench in the next room as he listens to a recording of his new song through headphones that are up too loud.

We’ve been talking (again) about how we can make a go of making music. Maybe I could audition for a better choir or the opera company up the highway. Tim wants to get his lip back up to snuff on his horn. Sometimes, when the kids are in bed early and we’re not too tired, we still love to play and sing together. We should try to record an album someday, we say. (We’ve been saying that for years.)

That was part of what brought us together—making music. We used to sing together everywhere. Favorite songs, folk songs, Tim’s songs. He lived and breathed through his stereo, his euphonium, his guitar…always practicing, always playing. Always wishing he could do it better, even though he was already good.

We always said we never wanted or needed much money. We just wanted enough so we could get by and still make music together. We wanted to be able to live a good life—a real life, a meaningful life—outside of working a nine-to-five job. We never wanted to be so tied to the system that we lost our sense of freedom.

The desire to live well has weathered the passing of the last ten years. Yet, time, age, and responsibilities have worn us down a bit.

We have an affordable mortgage, but of course a house comes with costs besides monthly payments. We have to repair our chimney and put on a new roof this spring. And perhaps rebuild our sagging front porch.

Plus, we’re expecting our third child—which necessitates expenses like a bigger car than our rusty ’97 Civic. So we bought a ’98 Odyssey with its own share of little maintenance problems. And, of course, birth and babies aren’t free.

We’re doing it all as savers who pride themselves on buying everything in cash—but that can be pretty tricky when you’re living just above the poverty level. And in the midst of all those bills, sometimes you forget about just living well and not worrying about making money.

But let’s not pretend that money is the only distraction from leading a meaningful life.

I am tired. There are too many messes to clean. Preserving our garden and cooking from scratch is draining. I’m working to make supplemental income through voice lessons and writing while primarily staying home with the kids—and struggling to find the balance. I want to sing more, but young children make it so hard to practice efficiently. I want to homeschool, but I often question my ability to do so cheerfully and thoroughly.

As for my husband? He is often discouraged. I have no marketable skills, he says. I have three degrees that I am not using. I will never make much money. My musical inadequacy is lamentable, especially considering how much time I’ve put into it. I have no remarkable store of knowledge. I have done absolutely nothing notable. I have wasted years of my life working towards things that don’t matter.

But they matter to me, I tell him, over and over again. I think we’ve had this conversation probably a hundred times since I’ve known him. He has a work ethic like nobody else I know. He is self-disciplined, kind, faithful, thoughtful, and upright. He is the best husband and father anyone could ask for.

Who cares whether or not you are ever acknowledged for what you have done? You are a good man, I reply. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.

But discontent grows when you see people you know and love make great achievements before you you’ve even found your footing. Like when your classmates are making a living making music. Or when your peers are getting operatic roles that you will never get a chance at because you are home, changing diapers, not practicing. Or when your family is full of distinguished professionals in their respective fields, making good money and a good name for themselves.

Failure can eat away at you, breeding bitterness, despondency, and envy. You focus on things like your terribly ugly kitchen floor that you can’t afford to replace. Or the songs you’ve practiced that no one will ever hear. You harden your pride and gloat about your frugality because it helps you to save face and cover your own deficiencies.

One night my husband sat down with a storm in his mind, to write a song. I went to bed early; he stayed up late recording. The next day, I listened:

A plain truth found me on a Wednesday night.
Fate or fortune, strength or weakness, we may both regret
Our own submission to this solemn anonymity;
But, I love you, and I love him.

My boy, he knows no greater joy
Than you or me—
No love greater than ours.

Contentment is his to teach, and it’s ours to learn.
It’s his to teach, and it’s ours to learn.

Love me still, my wife.

A plain truth. Hot tears came to my eyes.

Contentment is his to teach… Our boy is happy to feel the grass between his toes, to play blocks, to cut papers, to snuggle and read at the end of the night. He is curious, carefree, bursting with energy and life. He sees beauty in everything he touches. He is satisfied with the world around him.

Dare we take that from him? Dare we trade his joy for resentment? Dare we teach him that he needs wealth, recognition, or a life of ease to be fulfilled?

We may never make music that anyone will care to hear. Our names may never be remembered. Our entire lives may be spent with our noses to the grindstone in boring daily duties. We will most likely remain largely unknown, living in quiet obscurity.

But we can take a lesson from our boy. We can learn to find the good life in the everyday blessings that God has already given to us.

If I would only open my eyes and look around me, I might see more good in the life I have presently. The steadfast love of my husband. My children’s sweet words and charming habits. Satisfaction in working at the routine tasks I normally so despise. Beauty in the commonplace.

There is goodness found in the most mundane of lives. Perhaps working contentedly at a quiet, normal life, is in fact more of a good life than discontentedly chasing vain ambition.

Later, Tim added this section to the song:

Though my feet may wander far from home,
May my heart here never leave.
May my soul be knit to yours alone,
All my fortune here to see.

All my fortune here to see.

There was no secret to finding the good life. The plain truth is that it was in front of us the whole time.

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There have been signs that are less obvious. The snacking. The peeing in the night. The early bedtimes.

There have been the signs that are equal parts amusing and unsettling. Like when I do very stupid things without thinking. As in, put the eggs on top of the plates in the cupboard. Or put the crackers in with the cups. Or try to brew coffee through my plastic coffee grinder lid instead of through a filter.

Yeah. My brain is getting less reliable.

There are, of course, the much more obvious signs. Like puking. And gagging. And thinking my grass-fed butter smells disgusting. (What?!?) And have you noticed I’ve stopped posting recipes? That’s because I’ve completely given up my cooking duties to my husband.

And then, of course, there’s the fact that my pants are starting to be hard to button.

(Taken about two weeks ago… can you guess what’s in there?)

It is with joy and humility and gratitude that I share the news: God willing, we will become a family of five this August.

Wish us luck? 😉

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