Author: Lisa Burbank

Writer, minister, animal rights' and environmental activist, herbalist, homesteader and prepper.
Animals, Appreciation, Christianity, Community, Faith, Family, gardening, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Herbs, Homesteading, No-dig Gardening, Prepping, Scripture

Here or There?

Lisa Burbank

“Put your outdoor work in order and get your fields ready; after that, build your house.” (Proverbs 24:27)

Well, that about sums it up. I have trays of chestnuts bedded in soil in the refrigerator with the hopes that they will germinate, putting down roots to be potted out next spring (yeah, there’s a metaphor somewhere in there…). There are plans afoot to purchase some dwarf varieties of fruit trees as well…and maybe an arborist to come look at my apple trees, those that came with this house 20+ years ago, and tell me if they’re worth saving (I hope so! RI Greenings are a pretty awesome tasting apple…).

Planting a tree of any kind is a symbol of hope for the future, a future I may not see, but one I plant anyway.

Oh, I’d love for “The Dream” I’ve shared of more acreage and more animals and endeavors to become a reality. And maybe that’s in His plan for me. Someday…

But, for now, here is home. And it may be the last home I ever have here on earth. I know that sounds morbid, but we never know the number of our days. Here there is a full-time job that I love. More importantly, it’s close to family and friends, and a community of which I enjoy being a part. A community that has been there for me during the tough times, as well as the joyful ones.

That’s nothing to sneeze at.

Yeah, Maine would be awesome. But I’m older now. Do I have it in me to build that home out of cob? Is it even still allowed there? It’s been a long while since I first started planning all of this. And, considering the chestnut trees I’m starting, if it’s to be Maine, I would have to move pretty quick on that dream.

I’m not sure I want to…but I will, of course, go wherever He leads.

The chestnut trees will be potted for their first few years anyway, so it’s still early enough to take them with me…ere the ruminations keep churning round and round.

This house needs some serious work. The sills are rotted in places. The roof needs replacing. The exterior needs a serious paint job…and it’s asbestos siding so, a costly job. Inside, it needs new flooring, new ceilings in some of the rooms, and the walls all need new paint…or wallpaper, which I prefer. But a new paint job will do and it’s the easiest out of that list…it’s also the last one I need worry about.

As the Bible verse above says, I’m getting my outdoor work in order and my fields ready. More raised beds, painted pale green, are going up from as many salvaged materials as I can lay hands on. And then the food forest on that overgrown half-acre. What lines much of the supermarket shelves doesn’t even disguise itself as food anymore so growing my own, especially with the threat of more supply chain interruptions, is important.

Having access to organically-grown natural remedies is also important. The bulk of those raised beds in the front yard will be herbs, most of which flower and look quite attractive.

Then there’s the zoning issues that I thought resolved if I’m to ever raise goats here again, or to consider sheep.

None of this is impossible. Sometimes I think it would be easier to start somewhere else but, I’m starting with here. Because here is what I’ve got. And I am ever so grateful for here.

It’s in His hands, as ultimately everything always is. If there is a “there” in my future, I trust that He will lead me to it, and pave the way to get “there”.

There are endless possibilities no matter which way I look. Amazing to think just a little over a year ago, hope was such a tenacious thing hanging by the most gossamer strands of faith…

May God bless you & keep you!

Alcoholism, Birthday Wishes, Chess, Family, Grief, Love, Memories, Nostalgia, Reading, Writing

My Poppop

Lisa Burbank

“They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.” (Psalms 92:14)

My Poppop was a wealth of knowledge. He wrote for the Providence Journal Bulletin for 40 years and was even nominated for a Pulitzer’s Prize for his work. As an investigative reporter, he rubbed elbows with some of the best…and some of the worst. His obituary speaks proudly of the organized crime ring that he helped take down through his reporting. He also interviewed Henry Ford for the Ford Motor Company’s 50th Anniversary; I have some of the stationary and memorabilia from that event.

But none of that is why I loved him.

Obviously, I get my love of writing from my paternal grandfather. In part, my love of music (he played multiple instruments), as it runs on both sides of the family. I get my love of learning from Poppop, too. And my chess-playing ability. I’ve squared off with some of the best. I haven’t always won, but I’ve always made them work for the win. (Of course, I haven’t played in a while, but I’m confident it’s like riding a bike…)

Going to my paternal grandparents’ home each weekend was a magical time for me. Yeah, I’m honest enough to admit they spoiled me, but I’m going with age and experience on their part on how to teach children the wonders of the world.

Some of my fondest memories of Poppop are of Saturday nights sitting beside him on the couch while he read stories to me, or listened to me read them aloud to him, while occasionally blowing in my ear to make me giggle from the tickle of it. Sometimes he simply shared little tidbits of knowledge with me: “What letter of the alphabet is the most used in the English language?” I may have been 5 when he posed this question to me. I remember saying “A”. The correct answer is “E”.

When he wasn’t banging away at the keyboard of his manual typewriter, he was sitting out in the yard, smoking his cigar, and watching the birds. He was an avid birdwatcher (I am, too). He kept an assortment of bird feeders well-stocked and a bird bath to which a ceramic cardinal and ceramic blue jay perched alongside their living “cousins”. (One of the first knick knacks that I ever purchased for myself was a cardinal and a blue jay sitting on a branch…)

He tried to teach me to play the piano a time or two, but I wasn’t receptive to that teaching (something I rue to this day…).

However, I never left my grandparents’ home on Sunday evening without my Poppop driving his big old black Buick sedan to the railroad tracks on Kilvert Street in Warwick, Rhode Island. We would sit in the parking lot beside a tenement there (from which I rented an apartment years later!) and wait. Almost the whole family–Poppop, Nanny (my grandmother), Aunt Margie and Mom & I (sadly, my father, his son, never wanted to be a part of my weekend)–went along for the ride. We sat and we waited until those railroad lights started flashing and the arm came down to stop traffic going over the tracks. Once the train went by, we drove down the other end of the road to another parking lot–usually the bank’s–and watched one jet take off and another land, all with a sense of wonder over the marvels of modern technology.

Poppop’s 119th birthday was this past Sunday. Alcoholism took him from us too soon at the age of 68. But, despite this social “disease”, he lived a life well. He will forever be my “Poppop”.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, ecosystems, Environment, God/Jesus, Homesteading, Nature, Scripture

If You Build It, They Will Come

Lisa Burbank

“Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Go to Pharaoh and say to him, ‘This is what the LORD says: Let my people go, so that they may worship me. If you refuse to let them go, I will plague your whole country with frogs.” (Exodus 8:1-2)

If I was Pharaoh, I’m not sure this would’ve been considered a punishment in my eyes. Perhaps Pharaoh didn’t either because, as I remember from Scripture, he didn’t let the Lord’s people go…and in came the frogs. God’s word is true.

I also didn’t built “it”…not intentionally anyway.

A couple of autumns ago, I drained the kiddie pool with which my ducks used to swim. As always, once drained for the winter, I propped it up against the outside wall of the barn to keep the rain from pooling up inside and then freezing, thus, possibly cracking the “pond”. Well, winter winds and/or heavy snows knocked the pool facedown. The following spring, the pool was full of water, but upside down.

Said kiddie pool is quite large, and especially heavy with all that water pooled up on it. The drain is now at the “top”. And, it seems like every time I start bailing the water out of it, we get more rain and it refills. This past spring, I started to bail and noticed some frog eggs amidst the dead leaves and duckweed floating on top of the stagnant water so I left it alone. Come summer and on into fall, I’ve had quite a number of tadpoles swimming around in that “pond”.

This weekend, friend Robert came over to help reinstall the inside door to the basement. There was a point where he needed to use the skill saw, which would produce a lot of sawdust in a small and confining place, so he recommended I step outside until he was done.

I wandered over to the chicken coop to visit with the chooks and ducks (Incidentally, the ducks have been given smaller pools that are easier to manage…there are also fewer ducks these days).

Then I wandered over to the upside-down pool-turned-vernal-pool. The tadpoles have either been eaten by the family of stoats we discovered living under the Florida room floor, have morphed into their adult selves, or have gone deeper since a recent frost (Do tadpoles hibernate like their adult counterparts? Or do they die off in the cold?). However, I found three rather large frogs, and another that looked to be either a juvenile, or perhaps simply another smaller species of frog (or are some of these toads??).

No matter, I am thrilled with my new neighbors and now spend every evening visiting. A vernal pool was in the “future” plans for this homestead; what a blessing to find Mother Nature produced it herself.

May God bless you & keep you!

Politics, Scripture

Scroll On By

Lisa Burbank

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 7:12)

I think I’ve done a post like this before, but it bears repeating. As we get closer and closer to November 5, 2024 here in the U.S. of A., tensions are running hotter and hotter…especially when one of us has confounded some of our friends by switching parties (chuckle).

I’m growing to hate election years…the big election years where we vote for our next president. It’s only a little kinder this time than it was in 2020, but maybe that’s because I’m trying to be kinder by forcing myself to scroll on by whenever I see another hate-filled piece of propaganda. I’m doing my best not to react. I see the error of that. Instead of changing people’s minds, it causes them to dig in their heels. They’re not listening.

Perhaps they never were.

No, this has very little to do with homesteading and prepping…except for the freedom that homesteading and prepping represents to me. If we dig down deep enough, none of us wants to be dependent upon government to survive…because it usually leads to government overreach. I realize, and know from personal experience, that there are many, many situations that arise where such reliance cannot be helped. Again, I’ve been there. People in those situations deserve our compassion, not our scorn. But what makes most of us happy is the satisfaction that comes with making one’s own way in the world…relying instead upon the only One who can be relied upon, plus the gifts, skills, intellect, community, and the willingness to share with that community, that He has blessed us with.

But that’s neither here nor there.

I’ve been scrolling on by. Or, when I don’t think I can as the propaganda gets thicker and thicker on some sites, I “snooze” people for 30 days. That way I don’t see the posts on social media that make my blood boil…and chase away all good reason.

The problem with that though is “snoozing” someone doesn’t prevent them from attacking me on my posts. Yes, I do share political memes, though I try to keep them to a minimum. There have been a number of clips superimposing Donald Trump and J.D. Vance over the opening of The Dukes of Hazzard series and now Smokey and the Bandit. There have also been several clips showing key conservative and independent figures dancing to the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive”. They’re well done, a good, tongue-in-cheek laugh that does a body good.

But I’m trying to remember each time I see a post from a friend that starts to stir me up in a bad way that that person has their reasons for voting that way…the same as I do for my votes. Neither of them are inherently “wrong”. There are simply some issues that touch on a core value somewhere. And, even if you disagree with that candidate’s other policies, that one core value is what keeps you in their lane.

Sadly, I sometimes feel my efforts are in vain. I can almost predict sometimes who will respond negatively to a post I’m sharing…even if it’s not a so-called “provocative” post, but simply a piece from an interview, or a talking head, that is raising what I think are some good points.

Yes, I do invite a response by posting such pieces. I only ask, if you can only respond with snarky remarks and sarcasm, that you follow my example and also scroll on by. Freedom of speech is for everyone…not just those with which you agree.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animals, Appreciation, Culture, ecosystems, Global Warming, God/Jesus, History, Homesteading, Memories, Nostalgia, Scripture, Tradition

The Comfort of Fire

Lisa Burbank

“Love each other deeply. Honor others more than yourselves. Never let the fire in your heart go out. Keep it alive.” (Romans 12:11)

I shared the photograph below on social media over the weekend, but it bears sharing here, too. Because nothing brings about a sense of tranquility and peace like a warm fire blazing in either a fireplace, or in my case, the woodstove. It really is a comfort.

Yes, I know a few European countries have banned the use of fireplaces and woodstoves, citing climate change, pollution and air quality as the reason. But how much more is our air quality challenged by the smoke stacks of various manufacturing facilities, jet exhaust, crop dusting, and the mining for various minerals and precious metals that go into our electronics and so-called “green” energies? Even with the recycling of some of those components, it doesn’t completely offset the harm done of this last.

Yes, my minor was environmental science. I’m familiar with the science, have seen the evidence that the climate is changing, and that Mankind is responsible for this change. But it’s not you or I driving back and forth to work each week, or the woodstove you’re lighting to save money on heat each winter, that’s the cause. Both are just a drop in the bucket against corporate violations.

But that’s neither here nor there. I’m here to talk about fire…the good kind that satisfies the soul on a chilly autumn night. Can anything else compare? Surely no electric, oil, or even gas, heat soaks into the bones as readily as the fire on the hearth.

What is it about fire that soothes so much? Is it ancestral memory? Surely our ancestors spent their winters gathered around such, praying, reading, telling stories, making music together, sharing a pot of tea and a wedge of pie.

Granted, before woodstoves were invented, they wouldn’t have been warm. Houses from the 19th century and before were not insulated. And, while the fire on a true hearth (i.e. fireplace) satisfies almost as readily as that in a woodstove, much of the heat actually escapes up the chimney. It’s one of the reasons why woodstoves caught on: the heat stays locked in the cast iron, radiating throughout the house. With a fireplace, unless you’re sitting right in front of it, you cannot feel its warmth.

Perhaps the ancestral memory goes back even farther…to days of living in caves and the crackle of a fire keeping predators away. Is it that sense of safety and security that make it such a joy? While we may not need to keep a fire going to save us from being eaten by a saber-toothed tiger, perhaps there’s a transference of that safety and security onto the knowledge that, in the event of a storm and subsequent power outage, we’re still safe from freezing to death.

It’s likely we will never know the true answer to that, but what a time to mourn if we’re ever denied the comfort of that fire as some of our European neighbors have been. It truly is a gift…as Miss Zelda would agree (below).

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Books, Faith, Finances, God/Jesus, Homesteading, Human rights, Scripture, Writing, Yoga & Fitness

Can’t? Says, Who?

Lisa Burbank

“No weapon formed against you shall prosper, and every tongue which rises against you in judgement you shall condemn.” (Isaiah 54:17)

I would’ve been a suffragette if I had lived in the 1800s. Not because of any man-hating, as far too many modern-day feminists seem to do, but simply because I’ve never been able to accept being told I *can’t* do something.

Yes, I am well aware of the biological differences between men and women. I know my physical limitations, for example. I simply do not have the same upper body strength that a man has. I’m okay with that because I *can’t* think of anything that this has kept me from doing that I’ve wanted to do…except maybe Camel pose in Yoga (chuckle). All kidding aside though, in every other instance, I’ve always managed to devise ways to compensate for that limitation. For instance, I purchased a “dolly”, or hand truck, many years ago to help me carry 50 lb. sacks of animal feed into the barn.

But telling me I *can’t* own my own property and do with it as I choose. Telling me I *can’t* control and manage my own finances. Telling me I *can’t* be a writer, or an artist, or a doctor because I’m female. That wouldn’t have flown with me…even in 1830. I’d either be chaining myself to a lamp post, or shoved into an asylum, because I refused to stay in the box that society put me into.

My stepfather use to tell everyone not to tell me I *can’t* do something because I was going to prove you wrong…or die trying. Well, he was right. And I’m still standing.

Not recently, but I have had a lot of naysayers over the years telling me I *can’t* earn a living as a writer. Well, I haven’t proven that I can yet, but it’s not stopping me from writing…or trying to reach that pinnacle of worldly success.

Yes, I know. For every Stephen King or Nora Roberts, there are hundreds of writers who have been published, but they’re still working other jobs to make ends meet. Many of them were my professors in college. I can find most of them on Fantastic Fiction with a list of the tomes they’ve written…even if nobody seems to have heard of them. Their books sell well enough to keep an editor happy but, for some reason, they’re just not household names. There’s no shame in that. Countless others never get that shot at being published at all.

I hear a lot of naysayers telling me I also *can’t* homestead, especially not alone. I need people to help me. Well, yes, it would be nice to have others on the same page with me and working right alongside me. And, even if they’re not on the same page as me, I appreciate the help I do get from others. I’ve learned to accept that not a lot of people *get* this homesteading thing. They certainly don’t *get* my why, or how, no matter how often I seek to explain it. That’s okay. This homestead was thriving solely under my care until a recession, and then an injury, derailed a lot of that care. It will be again. It’s simply a matter of picking up the pieces and getting back on that proverbial horse again, not throwing in the towel.

I would’ve been a suffragette in the 1800s because telling me I *can’t* only goads me into proving to everyone–including myself–that, yes, I CAN, just as my stepfather used to say.

You CAN, too. Whatever dream, or goal, is on your heart, you can. It may not happen overnight, but it won’t happen at all if you don’t take steps towards making it happen. And that’s as much a pep talk for me as it is for you. I’m my own worst enemy!

Taking those steps forward means learning to manage your finances, and your time, a little better than most. It will also mean missing a few cookouts or movies, etc. That’s part of the commitment and time management. Not missing out on fun and/or quality time entirely, but finding that balance that let’s you indulge your passions (those that are productive and giving, not the raw kind of passions that lead to the destruction of self (drugs, alcohol, sex outside of marriage)). But, if you really want it, you’ll learn to manage your resources and make better choices that will take you closer to your dreams.

It will take a lot of prayer and commitment, too. Yes, prayer. Not only does He make all things new, He has a dream for you. If you’re dreaming of something, take it to Him in prayer. What is His plan for your life? I guarantee that dream on your heart came from Him in the first place, but the execution, if we put it in His hands, will be greater and more fulfilling than anything you could’ve ever imagined.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Books, Creativity, God/Jesus, Homesteading, Scripture, Writing

Making Every Moment Count

Lisa Burbank

“Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” (James 4:14)

To the best of my knowledge, I’m healthy and hearty, but I have been spending an inordinate amount of time struggling to concede my age…and, maybe something more detrimental to my mental and emotional well-being: fixating on chances missed throughout this lifetime. It’s that “if-I-knew-then-what-I-know-now” syndrome. And, if it’s not really a “syndrome”, it ought to be.

I alluded to this a little bit in yesterday’s post. It was focused completely on finances but, paying yourself first (after tithing, of course) should also be a *thing* when it comes to future goals.

The first thing I do every morning now is write…or at least that’s the goal each day. I don’t always succeed, but I do a lot better with keeping a writing habit in the morning than I do in the evening…especially if I don’t have a thesis holding my backside to the fire.

It was while I was working on that thesis that I started fixating on those missed chances. Why didn’t I do this writing degree thing 30 years ago when I was younger? Why did I allow another’s abuse to broadside me away from my dreams? If I had finished this book a decade or two ago, so many loved ones would still be here to read it. I can only hope they’re smiling down from heaven now, cheering me on. But I wish I could’ve shared it with them while they were here.

Ditto for my homesteading dreams. In this case, and maybe with my writing, too, I keep waiting for the perfect conditions. Or I’ll tell myself all month that with my next paycheck I’ll pick up XYZ for the garden, the kitchen, to streamline some project, etc. And then payday comes and goes and my inner-Martha comes out and my focus turns more to the day-to-day. Nothing wrong with that…except another month comes and goes and I’m no closer to that one little goal I set for myself. Slow and steady wins the race, but I also have to keep moving towards that goal…or it’ll be another dream never realized.

There’s a string of them behind me. I’m sure most people reading this will have them, too.

And, yes, this is where I remind myself of two great ladies I’ve mentioned in the past: “Grandma” Mary Moses, who didn’t sell her first painting until she was 78 years old (and lived to be 102!), and “Grandma” Emma Gatewood, who became the first woman to hike the Appalachian Trail alone at the age of 67 and is the first person to ever hike three times.

I’m not too old. And it’s not too late to have a successful career as a writer. It’s also not too late to develop a thriving homestead.

However, I do have to take those steps. That’s where the paying-myself-first advice comes in. It may only be something small, but at least it’s something. It’s a step in the right direction.

“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” (Henry David Thoreau)

What dreams are on your heart today? And what steps are you taking to meet them? I’d be delighted if you’d share them in the comments.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Alcoholism, Appreciation, Emergency Preparedness, Finances, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Homesteading, Prepping

Preparing for the Future

Lisa Burbank

“Wealth gathered hastily will dwindle, but whoever gathers little by little will increase it.” (Proverbs 13:11)

I am not fully recovered financially from the past decade or so of financial hardship, but there’s definitely an upward climb for which I am grateful. Until very recently the focus has been on simply paying down debt and earning enough to keep home and hearth together.

However, I am mindful of the journey that started in 2008. Like so many people, I was seriously impacted by the Great Recession. Despite having a 401K account, a savings (albeit a modest one), a budget, and a modest amount of debt outside of my mortgage, I still got clubbed at the knees. How much worse was the recession for people without those benefits and resources? And, just when I thought I was getting back on my feet, I got clubbed at the knees again in 2019 with an injury.

Today’s inflation bites. I don’t care what the reason for it is…well, except for the impact it may have on who I vote for in a few weeks. But, for those who are still struggling to recover from the recession (which is almost everyone), there really is an underlying amount of stress controlling our every financial decision.

So, suggesting that we learn to save, even if it’s just the change in your pocket each week in a jar, may seem like a laugh. But even change adds up.

In my case, I can’t say if it stems from growing up with alcoholism and abuse in the house or not, but I have a bad habit of waiting until the end of the month to put something away for that rainy day instead of paying myself first. I wonder if the $20-$30 that I can afford right now seems too small to make much of a difference so why bother?

Yes, it does seem that the minute you save a few bucks, the kids get sick or the pets do, the car hiccoughs in a threatening way and there goes whatever ground you feel like you’ve gained.

But what if you were saving that $20 a week/biweekly (whatever you can afford) all along? Sure, you may have only saved $100 by the time this thing reared its ugly head, but it would be $100 easier to face. $100 less of feeling victimized. And, if enough time elapsed between those hiccoughs, there would be even more to lesson that feeling.

It’s the bigger picture that I’m looking at. It’s also the whole reason I’ve turned to homesteading and prepping. What happens with the next plandemic? What happens with the next supply chain lapse? What happens if the WEF succeeds in orchestrating those 15 minute cities? If we’re not herded into them like sheep, I really do want that off-grid homestead up on a mountain somewhere. Having ready cash on hand is a way of reducing our vulnerability to whatever life hands us.

So, I’m making a vow to myself to set aside some amount each month for that rainy day. It doesn’t have to be a lot. I have to quit looking at that $20, that $10 bill, that jar of change as something pathetic, but rather hopeful. Because every little bit really does make a difference. Next paycheck that $10 becomes $20 or $20 becomes $40 and so on and so forth until we can draw a deeper breath each night before bedtime…and thank God even for the small blessings.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Books, Creativity, Diversity, Fashion, History, Nostalgia, Reading, Scripture, Tradition

Proud to Be A Woman

Lisa Burbank

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” (1 Peter 3:3-4)

I’m going to get myself in trouble today. We have our monthly book club meeting this afternoon and this month’s selection is our own. I.e. We chose this month to read a biography, autobiography, or memoir of someone we like, or admire, and will share little bits and bobs from what we read and why we chose the person we did.

My choice?

Well, to be honest, I couldn’t decide between Tasha Tudor and Tucker Carlson. I like Tucker. I love his faith, how open he is in his belief in God, and the gentle and respectful way that he interviews those invited on his show. I also like his courage in being willing to interview those that most journalists and writers would shudder away from…such as Vladimir Putin.

But I’ve settled on Tasha for today. I’m rather tired of political debate. And, if anyone notices the Trump/Vance 2024 bumper stickers on my car, there will be enough political discourse at this book club meeting without me adding Tucker (though I may bring both books in with me anyway…who knows?)

However, for the moment, I’ve settled on Tasha because she is someone I have long admired. She chose her 1830s lifestyle at a very young age and she never wavered from her course. Her art and her creativity was infused with her gentle love for children, animals and nature and, of course, days gone by. She spun yarn, wove cloth, perused antique stores and estate sales for 1800s fashions, which she wore rather than just keep as displays (I’m guessing she was a tiny woman; my 5’8″, 190 lb. self could never fit into such clothing). She kept doves and chickens and geese and goats and birds and at one time even had a crow. She also raised Corgis, which she called Corgyn in the plural, declaring it the only proper way to do so. She cooked on both a hearth and cast iron cook stove. She lit her home with candlelight and oil lamps.

After years of working in living history museums, why wouldn’t I choose Tasha? I wish I had been so focused in my youth and lived much the same way.

But the real reason I chose Tasha is a quote from the book The Private World of Tasha Tudor by Tasha Tudor and Richard Brown:

“Why do women want to dress like men when they’re fortunate enough to be women? Why lose our femininity, which is one of our greatest charms? We get much more accomplished by being charming than we would by flaunting around in pants and smoking. I’m very fond of men. I think they’re wonderful creatures. I love them dearly. But I don’t want to look like one. When women gave up their long skirts, they made a grave error.” (Tudor and Brown, 1992, p. 63)

Having worn the long, full skirts and petticoats of the 1830s, I wholeheartedly agree with Tasha’s view here. When I’m wearing long skirts, I feel attractive and feminine. I feel confident and vital. That’s when I can truly say: I am woman. Hear me roar. It’s when I take myself seriously…so you should, too.

And, despite her love of all things 1830s, including the attire, Tasha had a long, successful, and modern career as a commercial artist, and could navigate between the two worlds quite nicely…even though, by her own admission, she wasn’t always “nice”. There was never a sign that she gave up her rights as a female to look and dress as a female. Instead, she simply celebrated being a woman.

It is something to celebrate.

But that’s just what I think. Let me know what you think (or thought?) when you read Tasha’s quote above in the comments below.

May God bless you & keep you!

Works Cited

Tudor, Tasha and Brown, Richard. The Private World of Tasha Tudor. Little, Brown & Company, 1992.

19th century, Community, Friendship, gardening, Herbs, Homesteading, Minimalism, Nature, No-dig Gardening, Plants, Prepping, Scripture, Tradition, Wild Edibles

Locusts and Honey

Lisa Burbank

“Now John wore a garment of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey.” (Matthew 3:4)

I see John the Baptist as more of the doomsday prepper type than a homesteader in the Bible, yet his simple lifestyle as described in Matthew 3 above serves as an inspiration to anyone who walks this path. “Simple” is the operative word. We don’t need much. We don’t need fancy gadgets or expensive anything. We need the basics of food, clothing, and shelter, and as we walk this walk, we find our tribe, our community of support. That’s important, too.

I found a member of that tribe many years ago when I worked in living history. We’ve never “hung out” together. Rare have we socialized outside of our shared living history employment, but we also share a passion for growing food and medicine, and living a simpler life. He was my mentor when I served as a volunteer docent in the herb garden there. And he taught me a lot.

This weekend, Mom, Robert and I traveled over an hour and 20 minutes (in New England, that’s a long drive…chuckle!) to listen to a talk of his about preserving the harvest without electricity. Using time-honored practices of root cellaring, fermenting, and drying, he reminded me of so much that I had learned while working in living history, but he also had some modern adaptations for those of us without a root cellar. Who knew an old Styrofoam cooler filled with damp leaves could be just as effective, if not better, than a wooden box in a basement filled with wet sand for preserving carrots and parsnips?

However, the real reason we drove all that way (Bless you, Robert, for piloting that drive!) wasn’t so much about the talk, though that was informative and interesting. Instead, it was to pick up some seeds for planting here at The Herbal Hare Tomestead (No, that’s not a typo; writer & librarian here).

You see, Rich worked for the American Chestnut Foundation (ACF) for many years helping to revive and restore the American Chestnut, which was decimated by chestnut blight, a fungal disease that spread quickly throughout our Eastern forests in the early-20th century, making it extremely difficult for the trees to reproduce, migrate and evolve. ACF has been working towards a blight-resistant American chestnut tree for many years (learn more here: https://tacf.org).

Roasted chestnuts are delicious. Though a tree nut, they taste a bit like a baked sweet potato. They’re also good for you. They’re a great source of fiber, which is good for digestion. They can help control blood sugar levels as they are low on the glycemic index. They contain antioxidants and minerals, such as magnesium and potassium, which can reduce the risk of heart disease and stroke, and manganese, which can reduce the risk of cancer. They also contain copper to strengthen our bones and give a boost to the immunity system, and are loaded with B vitamins, which can help balance our nervous system and improve our brain function. They’re also gluten-free and help reduce inflammation.

Chestnuts were an important food in generations’ past. One healthy tree can produce, on average, up to 60 lbs. of nuts per year when fully mature (at about 20 years), but they start producing as early as 3-5 years. Hence, my desire to plant some here.

The Herbal Hare Tomestead is quite small at the moment (just under 1 acre). I don’t have room for the traditional fields of corn or wheat or rye (although I may grow a small patch of the latter at some point; more on that later). At present, I’m working towards raised beds for much of my herbs and vegetables, and a possible food forest where there is an overgrown half-acre filled with invasive species, such as Norway maples, Oriental bittersweet and Japanese knotweed. These last will have to be dealt with before planting, and maintained so they do not grow back, but the vision I have is possible with a lot of careful planning. I’m looking forward to the challenge.

I doubt I’ll be eating any locusts anytime soon (although I’ve heard they’re also delicious when roasted), but raising honey bees again is also part of the plan. And a food forest? Well, what better way to prep?

May God bless you & keep you!