Category: 19th century

19th century, Christianity, compost, Culture, Emergency Preparedness, Faith, Frugality, Homesteading, Minimalism, Prepping, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Tradition, Weaving, Zero Waste

Living in an Amish Paradise?

Lisa Burbank

“Whatever is has already been, and what will be has been before, and God will call the past to account.” (Ecclesiastes 3:15)

A year ago November, the hot water tank blew a hole. We had a major flood in the basement and I got the equivalent of sticker shock when my electric bill, which is normally around $80-$90 a month, shot up into the thousands. With the hole in the tank, my well-pump was perpetually running, trying to fill the tank…until I discovered the flood and mitigated the loss of water. We’ve been heating water on the stove to bathe ever since. The damage, besides just being an old unit, was further impacted by the water softener, which had also died a slow, watery death (no pun intended). The build-up of too much iron on pipes and fittings had hastened its end.

Well, all that added wear and tear from perpetually running may have escalated the well-pump’s rumble towards its eternal death, too. Since last fall, we have had intermittent periods where all of a sudden, you go to turn on a tap and nothing comes out. However, within a couple of hours, we have running water again. It’s been touch and go.

Wednesday night, I went to fill a couple of gallon jugs to run through the water purifier before I went to bed…and nothing. As it was late, I went to bed assuming it would be back on in the morning.

It wasn’t.

36 hours later, we are still without running water. I’m thinking Wednesday night’s last run was, well, it’s last. However, I have done some trouble shooting online. It may also be a tripped circuit breaker. As my basement is a dark, dusty crawl space, I am waiting for the sun to fully rise and Mom to come downstairs with our only working flashlight so that I may go check. Recommendations also suggest shutting off the circuit breaker and then flipping it back on. We do have some electrical repairs that need to be done so, that could also be the issue. I had an electrician out to inspect but, he will have to take out a few walls to find out what it is…which will be a costly repair.

Ugh! It’s all happening at once.

I had a moment the other day where my nostalgia for the place got under the skin and I started thinking about repairs and remodels and landscaping projects, etc. I’ve had 20+ years of imagining how much this place could shine if I could finally get the needed repairs done. There’s the added bonus that I can walk to work. I can walk to the super Walmart if needed. I can walk to church. Six years’ ago, for anybody who has been following that long, walking was all I did due to not having a car for several months. In short, despite it’s derelict state of affairs, this house is centrally located to everything relevant to my life.

Of course, there’s still a zoning issue to consider…but I was doing just that. Can I find that attorney who can pull the proverbial rabbit out of a hat?

And, lo and behold, the pump gave out. Clearly, He is telling me, it is time to move on. It’s time to take up my cross and follow Him to wherever He leads. I don’t know where that is. Or how it will happen. I think it’s called walking by faith. I suspect, when the right place/situation comes along He’ll let me know…even as I flounder with uncertainty that such a place even exists.

It is incredibly quiet in the house now…except for a bunch of juvenile felines batting around their ping-pong track (not sure what else to call it; donut-shaped apparatus with tracks for blinking ping-pong like balls).

Apparatus with flashing ping-pong balls; don’t look too closely, a lot of dust and grubby paw prints, needs another scrubbing!

Amazing how quiet a home can be without the modern white noises running incessantly in the background.

That was one of the things that I loved about my job in living history museums: the peace and tranquility inside the antiquated houses. Like here, there was still the occasional pop-on of a furnace (the heat is needed to preserve the old houses) but, the incessant buzz of all the other modern-day “guts” was absent. Hence, my romanticization of 19th century life was reaffirmed.

Of course, in the 19th century, homes may not have had running water (unless they lived in a valley and could situate their well at the top of a hill…). Instead, they had a hand-pump to get water from their wells. There’s a company in Kidron, Ohio called Lehman’s that sells mostly Amish, and definitely American, made products. One of those products is hand-pumps. If I was staying, or if I’m ever lucky enough to obtain that backwoods home in Maine/New Hampshire/Vermont (Missouri?), there will be a hand-pump installed. If for no other reason, then for power outages when the electric pump does not work. While modern “conveniences” are nice, we have grown too dependent upon them–in my opinion anyway–and go into a panic every time a natural disaster, or other hiccough in the system, comes along.

However, even lacking the necessary infrastructure, so many water-saving lessons that I learned in living history museums are being put to use. I used to laugh that not too many modern employers would look at a resume and think, “Let’s hire this girl!” because my previous duties included spinning, weaving, straw braiding, and cooking on a hearth. But life–home life–appears to benefitting from those lessons.

Who knew?

Yesterday I set up the pitcher and wash bowl so we could brush our teeth and wash our hands. We actually use much, much less water that way. A couple of wash tubs filled with hot water to wash and then rinse dishes also saved more water than turning on a tap to rinse. Granted, a shower would be nice but, bowl baths will suffice in this pinch. And, while we’re using 19th century practices to conserve, from a financial standpoint, this won’t be sustainable in the long-run as, without the hand-pump, we are buying in water again. But we can get by for now…until I call around to some of the energy assistance facilities to see if there’s any help available to resolve some of this. (Please send lots of prayers!)

Of course, I can almost hear the elephant in the room: without water, you also cannot flush. Composting toilets are the new thing today, especially with tinyhouse owners. We have a crude, 19th century “composting toilet” (bucket with an old toilet seat atop it), with a bag of sawdust/shavings beside it to sprinkle over the top after we use it. Amazingly, any odor is quickly doused and less offensive than the flushing toilet. We have a canister out back for composting it later. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. This, too, shall pass.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Abuse, Animals, Appreciation, Christianity, Creativity, ecosystems, Faith, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Herbs, Homesteading, Prepping, Religion, Understanding, Writing

Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad

Lisa Burbank

“Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. Then you will win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man.” (Proverbs 3:3-4)

I’ve been working on that third website and still questioning the wisdom of it. Yes, there’s been a desire to branch out a little, defend the innocent when it comes to abuse and neglect, defend Mother Earth, tackle those few social issues that capture my interest enough to comment. But I’ve been completely stymied by the purpose of the assignment.

We were asked to pick a subject, research it, and then use this subject to help build our brand. Not a single topic had anything to do with herbs, homesteading, prepping, animal husbandry or rescue, 19th century living, frugality, fiber arts, or faith.

That’s my brand.

I chose “social media research”. As a writer, I can recognize the importance of researching sources of information. I’m just not sure how creating multiple posts about how to fact-check and verify an article will prove interesting to anyone else on a live platform. Do I even want it to? And, while this post has nothing to do with herbs, homesteading, prepping, animal husbandry or rescue, 19th century living, frugality, fiber arts, or faith either; still, I reckon most of my readers here are used to my rambling detours by now.

As I write this, and as I continue to build the other page, I’m also struck by how He works.

I’m not exactly kicking and screaming against this other page. In fact, I can even see the merits of separation between this blog and the new one, especially if I decide to tackle some meatier subjects. But, despite the fact that I will probably take the other site down once class is over, the effort of building a new site (something I actually enjoy) has given me some ideas for this blog. As I seek to define this other site, what it will contain, what it’s about, my intention for this blog is becoming clearer. So He’s brought about a blessing even in the midst of something as mundane as “social media research”.

What are some of the unexpected blessings He’s brought to your life? I’d be delighted if you’d share.

“I come in the little things, saith the Lord” — Evelyn Underhill

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Books, Christianity, Creativity, Diversity, Frugality, Introvert, Proofreading, Writing, YouTube

Learning the Ropes

Lisa Burbank

“Lord, I am overflowing with your blessings, just as you promised. Now teach me good judgment as well as knowledge. For your laws are my guide.” (Psalms 119:65-66)

I approached the return to academia to earn my Masters in Creative Writing with a little trepidation. The frugal fanatic questioned the wisdom of racking up more student loan debt against the benefit in the job market of a higher degree…especially at my age (mid-50s). However, knowing my thesis will be the completion of my first manuscript, along with at least one full revision, the MFA program won out. If I don’t do this now, it’ll never happen.

I started this journey bent on also earning my teaching certificate for higher education (online classrooms only) and then, after the first term or two, I decided to switch to the Professional Writing program. I wrongfully assumed that it mostly involved advertising. I really hated the Intro to Advertising/Marketing that I took as an elective when I earned my Bachelor’s degree. Somehow the idea of perpetually trying to come up with new jingles to sell more products that I will probably never use, nor endorse, while competing with others in a cut-throat environment just didn’t appeal. Granted, there’s big money in advertising, and many love their careers in it. However, I couldn’t see this introvert being happy in such an environment, no matter how healthy the pay scale.

I’m learning that the professional writing program at Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU) is a whole lot more; albeit, I am learning more about search engine and social media optimization, elevator pitches, and marketing along the way.

Ghostwriting; proofreading and/or editing for other writers; speech writing; web content; creating brochures and informational materials; articles; essays; newsletters, and blogs are all ways to supplement income and create a brand. Hence, the renewed interest in this blog, the desire to build a website that I can add to as products and services become available, and the ambition to learn more about podcasting, voiceover acting, and creating YouTube videos.

No, these last are not taught as part of the professional writing curriculum but, SNHU does stress diversity in the services you offer. Sort of a “don’t-put-all-your-eggs-into-one-basket” mentality. In today’s primarily part-time job market, it’s sound advice. The full-time, blue collar profession, with benefits and competitive wages, to which one can devote 20+ years and then retire, is a fond memory of our parents’ and grandparents’ generation. This Gen-X-er has always chafed and sneered at being called the “lost” or “forgotten” generation but, in this instance, it fits. Gen-X-ers grew up during the transition from full-time, blue collar and today’s advanced AI. When I was in high school, we were still being taught to focus on that one career that would stand us for much of our adult life while being introduced to DOS programming; Windows didn’t officially start until the year after I graduated. There’s been a constant learning curve ever since and I’m looking forward to learning still more…despite my obsession with all things 19th century.

How’s that for an oxymoron?

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal Rights, Animals, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Faith, gardening, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, Love, Plants, Reading, Religion, Self-esteem, Writing

X to have Z…

Lisa Burbank

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so no one may boast.” (Ephesians, 2:8-9)

I want to be a writer, but I have to have some other career to support it, I have to do something else besides write…well, not all of us can be the next Toni Morrison or Stephen King so maybe there’s some truth to this one…but there must be something defectively wrong with me to not have found another career option that I feel just as passionate about…

Like some of my favorite authors who write 8 hours a day, I have to carve out 8 hours of my own to dedicate to my novel, my blog, etc; I can’t be a writer if I don’t write every day for 8 hours a day…even with a “day” job and a small hobby farm and the need to eat, sleep and, well, you know…

Like a favorite singer/songwriter, I do my best writing at 3:30 a.m. so, if I don’t get up at 3:30 a.m. every day to write, I’m not doing my best writing?

I can’t run a used bookstore; I won’t make enough money from it to support myself; I need another career to supplement it (it’s like the writer thing…)

I want to rescue animals, to offer them sanctuary–and often do–but, I’m a single female and I’m in danger of becoming a hoarder–or so the media tells me. If I was married, or a man, and still took in the occasional stray cat, and the free-to-good-home rabbits and goats, etc., found forever homes for some and offered a forever home to others, because their original humans were being evicted and no longer had a home to offer them, would I NOT be in danger of becoming a hoarder?

I want to homestead, to grow my own food and produce my own clothing, to live as sustainably as possible and lower my carbon footprint, but I don’t have enough land, enough money, enough knowledge, and I have to start right here…well, I have, sort of, but I’m also facing foreclosure myself so there’s a bit of apathy getting in the way. Why keep investing here when here may soon be gone?

In my youth, I wanted to be a rock star but, I didn’t keep my guitar strapped to me day in and day out. I only spent an hour or two each day practicing after work, so I guess I must not have wanted it so badly…

When I worked in living history, I told myself I didn’t know enough about either herbs or gardening to manage an heirloom herb garden. I felt like a fraud and everyone would find out eventually that I didn’t have what it takes. It’s called Imposter Syndrome; I just learned about it in my first class as I work towards my MFA in Creative Writing…

I made a mistake 10 years’ ago and rushed headlong into an abusive relationship with someone. I knew better, saw trouble coming a mile away, heard the voice of Reason in my ear saying, “Walk the other way” and ignored it; gave him a chance. I no longer deserve God’s grace…or His love…or the love of another man should I ever meet him…

These are the lies I tell myself, among others. Having just turned 55, “I’m too old” is another…even with the evidence before me that age has nothing to do with success or love or, well, anything…except maybe wisdom and experience, and the appreciation that usually comes with them.

“I’m not worthy” is the overall underlying message in each of these. I have to *earn* it. And, yes, if I want to write, I have to write. If I want to grow food, I have to plant a garden. If I want to be taken seriously at any endeavor and meet with success, I have to do the work. So, these things I tell myself each day have an undercurrent of truth and practicality ringing through.

The Serpent is cunning, to say the least…

There are conditions to everything, especially when you grow up in a house with addictions and abuse. A loving Father is an alien concept. And, no matter how much love, support, etc. you receive from others, that nuclear family unit that consists of parents, siblings and yourself, has the power to shape your way of thinking for life. So, it’s no wonder I’ve tied myself in knots and can’t seem to get out of my own way. Writing books, selling used books, caring for unwanted animals (or those on the receiving end of someone’s hard luck), homesteading and prepping, even learning an instrument by themselves may not be *enough* income to survive, let alone thrive, but together? Or, even if I still work a “day” job, I’m not allowed the joy that each may bring to me?

They’re idols.

That’s another lie echoing through my mind. The Lord has brought me to this place because I’ve made “idols” of animals and books, and I’m trying to live self-sufficiently, which means I’m not relying on Him…or so I’ve heard said. To punish me for this “idolatry”, He’s going to whisk it all away. Hence, the impending doom of foreclosure and zoning challenges…

Who would follow such a God?

Or am I wrong? Will I be stripped down to nothing? Am I being taught another lesson in not judging others for decisions they’ve made during hard luck circumstances? Again, I don’t deserve His grace because I haven’t always given grace to others…

Praise God we don’t get what we *deserve* for our mistakes. Ultimately, I know there’s nothing we can do to *earn* his grace; it is already freely given but, my faith needs a good bolstering today.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animal Rights, Animals, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Environment, Faith, gardening, Gratitude, Greenhouse, Healing, Herbs, History, Homesteading, Plants, Spices, Straw Braiding, vermicomposting, Weaving, Wool, Worm castings, Worm Tea, Writing, Zero Waste

The New “About”: The Herbal Hare Tomestead and Animal Sanctuary

Lisa Burbank

“A home for misfit animals and books, and makers of herbal, apian, and natural fiber products.”

Sanctuary – Focuses primarily on small livestock and pets that are being relinquished due to zoning regulation issues, foreclosure, or eviction.

Tomestead – A different sort of “rescue” or sanctuary, one that keeps used books out of the landfills.  The bulk of the books will be from donations.  Patrons will have the option of in-store credit (20% off purchase) or a check for 20% of estimated resale price.  Campus will consist of re-purposed sheds, RVs, trailers and/or mobile concession booths.  Each upcycled building will host a different genre, or subject(s) and be themed accordingly.  Additional outbuildings will host various natural fiber, herbal and apian products produced on-site and throughout the local community.  topography will include a 9000 square foot heirloom herb garden where walks and talks will be hosted; a petting zoo featuring some of the rescued animals at the sanctuary, and a cafe featuring menu items that would have been popular in the 19th century.  Proceeds from sales will be re-invested into the business, as well as providing for the care of the animals.

The Herbal Hare – Farm side of the campus will host various fiber-producing animals, in addition to rescues, such as sheep, goats, alpacas, and rabbits.  Spinning, weaving and dyeing demonstrations, herbal workshops, and “bee” school are future offerings.  Fibers will eventually expand to include basket weaving, chair caning, and straw hat making, and sericulture (silkworms).  Herb store will eventually be expanded to include a couple of greenhouses for growing heat-loving spices, such as cardamom and turmeric; mushrooms; microgreens, and sprouts.  

     Planned fiber products – primarily yarns and some woven products to start.  Straw hats, baskets, silks and linen in future.

     Planned apian products – honey, beeswax, candles

     Herbal products – seeds; dried and fresh herbs; young plants; skin care products; scent mixes and tea blends

All facilities will be zero-waste.  Reusable bags, boxes, upcycled Mason jars will be available for patrons.  We will also seek out compostable wraps, containers and utensils for our envisioned cafe. Compost will be re-purposed in the herb garden and future greenhouses.

Where is this wonderful place?  For now, it’s on the drawing board awaiting either an angel investor (or two) to help with start-ups, or a great, big pot of luck!  

What expertise do I bring to this endeavor?  Besides being a writer, I am a certified herbalist who worked in living history, both as a volunteer and as paid staff, for many years where I learned spinning, weaving and caring for natural fibers, and straw braiding for the making of hats.  I am also a Master Gardener with the University of Connecticut, and a librarian.  I have been rescuing and giving sanctuary to unwanted animals for much of my adult life–over 35 years!

This is my dream. With God’s grace, it will one day be a reality.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS The link to my Go Fund Me campaign to make this a reality:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-this-animal-sanctuary-grow-and-thrive

19th century, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Healing, Herbs, History, Holistic Health, Homesteading, illness, Nature, Organic, Recipes, Spices

Age…and Digest Tea

Lisa Burbank

“White hair is a crown of glory and is seen most among the godly.” (Proverbs 16:31)

Ever since I broke the habit of rising at 3:30 each day to write, I’ve been struggling to get back to that schedule. If I don’t write this blog early in the a.m., it usually doesn’t happen. And 3:30 leaves me a few hours for blogging, working on my book, some yoga and prayer before the farm starts clamoring for breakfast. However, it’s a tough schedule to maintain even under the best of circumstances.

This morning?

A 2:00 a.m. attack of acid reflux, which triggered an asthma attack, which had me running to the bathroom because I’m rapidly becoming one of those ladies that pees when she sneezes, wheezes or coughs, of which I was batting 2 out of 3. Middle age is starting to peek over the horizon in the rearview mirror.

Welcome to the silver years!

After relieving myself, I attempted to go back to bed. 2 a.m. is a bit early even for me. But acid reflux continued to rage and then, alas, hot flashes, too. Ay caramba! I got back up a little after 3 after tossing and turning, burning and flashing, brewed a cuppa my favorite Chai tea (of which I’m wondering if the herbalist should’ve elected to brew her digest tea instead of being so much of a creature of habit…) and voila! And, while I may have given the recipe for my digest tea in an earlier post, it’s one that is worth repeating for any who may have missed it.

Digest tea is made with equal parts Chamomile (Matricaria recutita) and Fennel seeds (Foeniculum vulgare). I typically use a tablespoon each of the dried herbs. Then add about 1/8 – 1/4 teaspoon of ginger and just a pinch of cardamom. All are excellent digestive aids.

Chamomile is an excellent brew all by itself for digestive complaints. It relieves diarrhea, abdominal cramping (antispasmodic), flatulence, colic in babies and, when used in conjunction with these other herbs and spices, tends to calm my acid reflux. It is also good for menstrual cramps, nervousness and insomnia (Tierra, pp. 110-111, 1998).

During my tenure in living history, I learned that both fennel seeds and caraway seeds used to be candied and placed on the dinner table to alleviate gas and the abdominal pains that often come with eating certain foods, or overindulging. Though caraway seeds could easily be substituted, I prefer the slight licorice-y taste of the fennel seeds. Fennel is also good for treating colic and can be used as an expectorant to help expel excess mucus. It is often used in “herb formulas containing strong laxatives to prevent griping” (Tierra, pp. 76-77, 1998).

Ginger (Zingiber officinale) is, in my opinion anyway, a herbal powerhouse. It is good for anything pertaining to the stomach, intestines, and for the circulatory system. It relieves nausea (which often comes with acid reflux) and indigestion. Combined with honey and lemon, it soothes sore throats and helps promote sweating in the treatment of colds and flus. It works well as a natural pain reliever for muscle and joint pain, including the pain that accompanies arthritis.

Lastly, cardamom (Elettaria cardamomum) is another carminative, which means it relieves gas and acid reflux. It has a warming effect on the body and helps to relive diarrhea, colic and headaches.

These four herbs combined not only relieve my acid reflux and help with all things digestive, they also taste delicious. It’s one of the few herbal teas that I can drink without any sweetening, though I often add a spot of honey, which can have a soothing effect of its own on the digestive tract.

When making any herbal tea, you want the water hot, not boiling. I tend to bring my water just to a boil, turn it off and let it sit for about 5 minutes before pouring it over the dried herbs. If the water is too hot, it will destroy the medicinal properties of the herbs. Cover the mug, or tea pot, and allow the herbs to steep for about 20 minutes. Strain and enjoy! If using honey, I typically add it to the cup right after I pour the water over the herbs and allow it to steep along with the herbs.

A word of caution: Avoid using any plastic vessels or nonstick cookware as they may leach into your tea. Cast iron may also adversely affect your brew. And never use the microwave! I use stainless steel pans and kettles for all of my herbs, and ceramic mugs/tea pots for brewing.

As both cardamom and ginger are two of the herbs used to make Chai tea, maybe I’m not so far off with my favorite brew this morning after all but, I’m also thinking maybe I should start incorporating a cup of digest tea before meals…instead of hoping I’ll remember at 2 a.m. when acid reflux is already wreaking havoc. As much as I am enjoying watching the sunrise and hearing the opening chorus of wild birds and pet roosters, acid reflux would definitely fall under the heading of a “rude awakening”.

May God bless you & keep you!

The FDA has not evaluated these statements. This blog post is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any diseases.

REFERENCES

Tierra, Michael (1998). The Way of Herbs. Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc. New York, NY.

19th century, Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animals, Faith, Forgiveness, Homesteading, Poverty, Prayer, Religion, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Spirituality

The Pain of Fear

Lisa Burbank

“He does not fear bad news, nor live in dread of what may happen. For he is settled in his mind that Jehovah will take care of him. That is why he is not afraid, but can calmly face his foes. (Psalms 112: 7-8)

Fear kept me here in Connecticut back in 2008. And fear is what has kept me “stuck” ever since.

You see, back in 2008 I left work on a Friday, traveled up to Maine with over $30K in my 401K to use as a down payment on a property there. It was 6 and 1/2 acres, no zoning regulations, and the only building requirements were I had to dig a well and septic system, and the house had to be a minimum of 600 square feet. I was planning to build no more than that minimum, but I was willing to comply. It was a beautiful piece of land down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. I started proceedings with Bangor Savings then came back to work on Monday to find that my 401K had been wiped out as the Great Recession plowed its way through. I had only $3K left. I was forced to back out of the deal.

I kick myself now. Surely, there could’ve been another way. Or another property that would’ve worked just as well. Why did I let my heart get so set on one place that I neglected to look further afield? Worse, though I lost first one part-time job 4 months’ later, the full-time position another 10 months’ later, and the second part-time job about 7 months after that, the severance pay and unemployment benefits would’ve been sufficient to sustain me while I built that cob house I was aiming for had I stuck it out. But, by the time I lost the full-time position, I had already approached the zoning attorney here in CT and gotten his okay to raise small livestock here (poultry, goats) and so, I decided this was home, this was familiar and safe.

I stayed.

And I cannot help but wonder what my life would be like now had I gambled a little bit, trusted Him more with my future.

Sadly, it has been the story of my life. Play it safe. Stick with what I know. And fail by not trying. By letting fear of the unknown guide me rather than walking by faith.

Despite being an ordained minister, I honestly haven’t learned how to walk by faith yet. Not entirely anyway. Sure, He’s done so much to show me that He does care, that I can trust Him. But I’m the doubting Thomas all over again. If He doesn’t paint the way there, I’m stagnant. I like a certain amount of surety in my bets. And it is the most painful place to be. Yes, I get the theory of walking by faith, but my heart doesn’t truly believe. It forever whispers back that I’m not worthy. And I fear both the success and the failure of my dreams.

Growing up in a household with abuse and alcoholism, faith, trust, reaching out for more, or seeking to better one’s self are all tinged with an underlying sense that you do not deserve even life’s most basic needs. You abuse yourself by choosing less than optimal situations because of this belief. There’s an underlying sense of apathy, too.

I cannot help but think that, despite not knowing where He is leading me, or what He is leading me to, He has made it very clear that He is leading me away from here. It’s been a constant struggle to make ends meet. One repair after another that I haven’t the means to address. This is the second time since the recession that I’ve stared down the face of foreclosure. And now I am faced with these zoning issues where finding another attorney to help has been a lesson in futility. Of course, this is where I think to myself, Lord, if you truly are leading me away, can you give me a nudge in the right direction, please? My finances are in shambles. How will I ever do this? And, yes, I know I’m not supposed to question His intentions, or plans, but will everyone forgive me if I tell you I’m only human?

I do know one thing though: if this was truly where I was meant to be, I would be thriving here instead of feeling beaten down and, yes, apathetic about the future. Because the future is not here. The future is somewhere else.

Maybe I should make a shout out to anyone reading this and ask for your prayers, kind thoughts, positive energies that I might finally get these feet to walk by faith…one step at a time. If I can get these feet to finally move, maybe I’ll be able to prove that Thoreau was right:

“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

I sincerely hope so.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animals, Christianity, Climate Change, Compassion, Cooking, Creativity, Culture, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Fashion, Fiber Arts, Fleece, Frugality, gardening, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Greenhouse, Herbs, History, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Human rights, Minimalism, Nature, Nostalgia, Organic, Prayer, Scripture, Spices, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Wool, Writing, Zero Waste

Yearnings

Lisa Burbank

“I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of contentment in every situation, whether it be a full stomach or hunger, plenty or want; for I can do everything God asks me to with the help of Christ who gives me the strength and the power” (Philippians 4:12-13)

The above passage from Scripture is almost true for me: No material girl here, but I do know how to live on almost nothing. The last decade or so has taught me well…as did a good portion of my childhood. I don’t need much. In fact, growing up on the lower end of the socioeconomic scale, and being both financially and occupationally challenged in current years, has developed in me a bit of a tightwad. No, I won’t skimp on your birthday or Christmas presents. I will buy you lunch, or tea/coffee, from time to time. I’m extremely frugal but, hopefully, not selfish or stingy. I give what and when I can.

But I perpetually yearn for a simpler life.

If you’ve followed my blog for more than a few months, you know I worked in living history, first as a volunteer for many years, and then as paid staff for a little over a year and a half. My deepest yearnings are for that kind of simpler life in these modern times.

Yup. Maybe I am a few fries short of a Happy Meal. I wouldn’t be the first to over-romanticize an earlier time. But, working in living history, I found a satisfaction in the skills that I learned…and a certain sense of rightness in each of them. Somehow spinning wool on a great wheel, refilling bobbins on a loom tool (smaller spinning wheel designed to load the bobbins for the looms), weaving, braiding straw, cooking and baking on a hearth came naturally to me. Whether this is some sort of ancestral memory, or maybe there is something to reincarnation after all, I don’t know. However, it wasn’t quite so easy for others who learned along with me.

Even the fashions of those earlier days proved to me to be much more comfortable and satisfying than today’s idea of fashion. First of all, the garments were made with natural fibers, which is healthier for us, and for the planet. In those long, full dresses I felt more attractive, more feminine, than in any other attire. So much so that I’ve been perusing websites for similar styles…either purchased ready made (someday when I’m back on my feet, not now that I’m struggling through financial hardship and zoning issues), or for patterns to make myself. There’s a part of me that would love to make several of the work gowns we wore for living history and maybe jazz them up a bit, a modern twist on an antiquated style. And, no, this may not jive with most people’s idea of frugality if I’m talking about purchasing new clothes, but we must wear something on our bodies. Why not something we truly love rather than conforming to modern expectations?

I remember some years’ back writing a post about how satisfying it was to sit down to a meal where the vegetables had been grown completely by my hand in the garden, the bread baked from scratch, the eggs from the chickens I raised, etc. I can’t help thinking that someday it might be just as satisfying to don an outfit that I either grew the cotton or flax, or raised the sheep; sheared/picked, cleaned, dyed, carded, spun, wove, and stitched all by myself. Yes, maybe that is a bit of pride, but I am of the mindset that maybe when we hear that “pride goeth before a fall” it’s not because having pride in one’s appearance, work, or living space will cause us to fall, but that, oftentimes, the only thing left someone has is their pride, and when they lose even that, that’s when they fall…sometimes never to truly get back up again. It’s tough to hold your head up when things are falling apart in your life. And Esther didn’t plead the cause for her people in rags; she dressed to the nine’s. She took pride in her appearance and made a statement. For me, that statement would be to embrace the comfort, simplicity and femininity of a simpler time.

Getting off a soapbox that threatens to get into a discourse on feminism, and going back to one of my beginning statements about yearning for a simpler life, I am referring to the whole reason I started homesteading in the first place. I’m tired of the rat race. I’m tired of killing myself, searching for a 9-to-5 that no longer exists, that will also leave me miserable, with no time to write, create, or work a homestead, and still not pay the most basic of bills. I’m tired of being dependent on the power grid, of our factory farm-to-grocery store food system. I’m tired of synthetic, plastic clothing poisoning our water and soil…and maybe even our bodies; can’t be healthy. I’m tired of all the additives to our foods, the pesticides and herbicides used to grow and preserve our food…and even the genetically-modified organisms that do not resemble food at all. I’m tired of watching species of life disappear, of honey bees struggling to exist. I’m tired of seeing advertisements for prescriptions that cause more maladies than the illnesses, or conditions, they were supposedly developed to alleviate. Our modern day lifestyle, the systems that have been put in place, make us vulnerable to them. This Covid-19 pandemic has shown us that. The power outages following each hurricane, tornado, or other natural disaster have shown us that, too. How many of us have friends or family members, especially the elderly, who start taking one pill for, say, high blood pressure then have to take another pill for bloating, or water retention, and then another as cholesterol skyrockets, etc?

Yeah, a bit of a rant today. I’m beating my head into the wall, preaching to the choir, because there are many things that I cannot change no matter how much I rant and rave, and seek to fight an uphill battle.

That doesn’t mean I give up entirely though.

My dream home has a hearth in the kitchen. It requires a hand-pump to draw water up from the well. It has a spinning wheel and a loom, a loom tool and a few niddy-noddies. It has a dough box for starting bread to rise. And a hand wringer for doing my laundry. It is lit with candles and/or oil lamps, and has a composting toilet if allowed (this last is often prohibited in many towns across the nation). My dream home is small and well-insulated with natural fibers, but sits on land large enough to support a decent-sized herd of goats for both fiber and dairy, sheep, chickens, ducks, honey bees and rabbits. There is a large herb and vegetable garden; a couple of greenhouses and/or hoop houses for year-round growing and for warm-climate spices. My dream home has an agility course because there are Border Collies sharing that home, too. Maybe there’s even a small pond for my ducks and geese, and for paddling a canoe once in awhile, because being on the water is such a great way to relax…even for those of us who cannot swim(!).

The yearning for such a life comes about as I navigate through this zoning and foreclosure nightmare I’ve been swimming through for too long now, always circling back to it just when I think I’ve finally got it licked. It’s where I go to escape, or better yet, to manifest? I know much of this is beyond me as building codes require certain regulations to be met, but to the extent I can get away with and still remain within the law, this is where I hope to go.

For too long now, a peaceful, simple, fairly self-sufficient life has been a dream only. I’m tired of the rat race. It’s time to live the life I was meant to live, a life lived with intention. And I pray the same thing for each and every soul reading this post…no matter how different your intentional life is from mine.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animal Rights, Animals, Books, Christianity, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Climate Change, ecosystems, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Fiber Arts, Fleece, gardening, God/Jesus, Herbs, Homesteading, Human rights, Open-mindedness, Plants, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Spices, Spinning, Weaving, Wool, Writing

Running the Gamut

Lisa Burbank

“He shall judge between many peoples and impose terms on strong and distant nations; they beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again. Every man shall sit under his own vine or under his own fig tree, undisturbed; for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken” (Micah 4:3-4)

Looking at the number of weeks since my last post, I am appalled that I have allowed this latest legal “drama” to derail me from everything else in my life. And that’s literally what has been happening. I have run the gamut of emotions: anger, outrage, sorrow. I feel betrayed by my local government who refuses to honor the work I did in 2009. I feel betrayed by the zoning attorney who may have given me some bad advice, which I acted upon, and who has set the bar (no pun intended) for any further interaction with another zoning attorney going forward. And yet, should I lay down and let this new neighbor walk all over me, force me out of my home entirely?

Of course, there are still the financial issues to deal with. I’m behind over a year. In order to turn this mortgage thing around, I would need to magically find at least $25,000 to get out of hock and, at this point, if I did magically find it, I would likely use it as a down payment in a more farm-friendly community. Why throw money away if there’s no certainty that I will win my case against this new neighbor?

So, to that end, I’ve looked at a site called Billy Land that has mixed reviews and may take longer than I have to finalize any deals. I’m keeping it on a back burner but it’s not my first choice of options. I’ve been looking into buying just land, with Mom and I considering boon-docking in a second-hand RV until we can afford to build a home. Not every town will allow it but, again, our focus has been unincorporated townships where there aren’t any zoning regulations. Maine still has a few of these and I’m sure there are others. Owner-financing is another possibility. We would need a decent down-payment so I’m focusing on saving as much as I can towards that end. But it’s a harrowing ride.

My chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) is off the Richter scale. Amazingly, the other stress-related health issues are seemingly okay but the CFS is biting me in the backside. It’s been a struggle to stay on top of things, and I confess to failing miserably. Of course, there is also the very real fatigue–hence, its name–to factor in that, once triggered, I have little control over. It, too, has to run the proverbial gamut. (I vaguely remember asking the Lord to teach me patience…is He ever!)

More mainstream-minded individuals would advise re-homing everyone permanently and just sucking up the heartache while re-doubling my efforts to get right-side up on the mortgage. But I am as far from a mainstream mindset as one can get when it comes to my animals. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes my reason for being, my reason for wanting to homestead in the first place; the heart will just go out of me. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes the myriad cottage industries I’ve been trying to build to get off the mainstream grind, or at least to supplement the part-time income that seems to be the norm in today’s economy. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes every hope and dream I possess.

Yes, I am a writer. Despite everything I’ve written above, I’ve chosen to “escape” for an hour or two each day by focusing on better character and plot development for my book. I’ve also started journaling again. Both have been extremely therapeutic while I navigate these troubled waters. Finishing my book and getting it published, possibly having a career as a writer that I can take anywhere I go in this world, is the ultimate.

But that’s only part of the dream.

As anyone who has been following this blog for a while knows, I worked in living history for a number of years. First, as a volunteer, and then as a paid staff member. The Herbal Hare isn’t just the name of this blog and this homestead, it’s also a future business venture making and selling herbal, apian and natural fiber products. I learned spinning and weaving while working in living history. The goal has been to grow as many of the herbs as this climate will support, maybe extend to adding a greenhouse in the future for growing spices and warmth-loving herbs, to raise honey bees and start a pollinator garden, and to raise animals for fiber, such as goats, sheep and Angora rabbits. All of these animals would require regular shearing but this would not harm them in any way. In fact, the opposite would be true because sheep and Angora goats and rabbits will develop a fungus on their skin if one does not shear them. Their fiber would be spun to make yarn and, as a tie in with the herbs, my herb garden would also grow many of the plants earlier generations used for dyes, like French marigolds, wild indigo, and Queen Anne’s lace.

Of course, there is also a much larger dream that this homestead will not support even if I can swing zoning and get the mortgage right-side up again: the dream of using goats to clear land. I would need a much larger herd than I currently possess…and more land to support that larger herd through the winter months when using living brush hogs isn’t an option. There are lot of these operations out West where forest fires are more prevalent but, here in New England, they’re few and far between. Goats are an eco-friendly way of mitigating forest fires because goats will eat the “fuel” for those fires: the heavy brush and undergrowth. They are also effective for removing overgrowth along highways and byways where steep inclines might be prohibitive for larger, heavier equipment. Or for clearing land for new building and development. Goats are incredibly agile and can make short work of such jobs without the noise, the fossil fuel pollution, or soil compaction that heavy equipment ultimately brings. Instead, they’re liable to leave behind some natural fertilizer as an extra bonus.

How’s that for a sales’ pitch?

Maybe it’s time to quit running another gamut of emotions: the fear and insecurity that has kept me from reaching for these dreams. Maybe it’s time to put to use the grant writing skills I’ve developed throughout my tenure in college these last 7 years and look for some angel investors. Maybe it’s also time to put my faith to the test and see if that door really will open when I knock upon it.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Alcoholism, Christianity, Climate Change, Cooking, Creativity, Culture, Emergency Preparedness, Exhaustion, Frugality, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, History, Holistic Health, Homesteading, illness, Minimalism, Nostalgia, Open-mindedness, Organic, Spices, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Wool

Instead of Gatorade, Try Haymakers’ Punch

Lisa Burbank

“For I will give you abundant water for your thirst and for your parched fields. And I will pour out my Spirit and my blessings on your children.” (Isaiah 44:3)

There are many things I miss about working in living history. I miss “my” herb garden. I miss spinning wool into yarn on the Great, or Walking, Wheel. I miss filling the bobbins on the loom tool (another type of spinning wheel). I miss weaving. I miss braiding straw for making hats. I miss cooking and baking on the hearth. And I miss the clothing.

Except when it was 90+ degrees outside and I had to get a fire going both on the hearth and in the bake oven (that little beehive-shaped cavity next to the kitchen fireplace).

Housewives in the 19th century did bake…even in summer. Southern ladies had summer kitchens; those were rarer in New England. However, New England housewives were sensible enough to rise early and get their baking done before that afternoon sun rolled directly overhead. In 2018, in a living history museum, where you have to demonstrate during normal business hours, you simply endured.

Or not.

I remember one afternoon that I felt extremely tired, and even a little dizzy, after baking all day. During the long walk back to my car after the work day was done, I was hailed by a fellow co-worker. I turned to greet her and almost fell over. She looked at me funny. I think I mumbled something about heat exhaustion but that was all. Exhausted, I drove the 30+ miles home and figured a good night’s sleep would have me feeling better in the morning.

The next morning the alarm went off. I sat up in bed, intent on turning it off, and the whole room spun. I nearly passed out again. Instead, I sat there, chilling, thinking it was the longest minute in history before the alarm stopped on its own. Finally, I got up but I felt weak and shaky, and I had to cling tightly to the banister as I made my way downstairs. It took me 45 minutes to feed the barnyard; normally, it was a 25 minute job. I decided to call in; there was no way I could interpret for visitors this day.

I also decided I needed to go to the hospital.

Now, one would think I would’ve had the sense to call a friend, to wake Mom, etc. to take me to the hospital. There’s a reason why dehydration is equated with inebriation: both make you stupid.

After calling work, I got in the car and backed out of the driveway. At the end of the driveway, I turned my head to look both ways for traffic and the whole road spun out…much like my room had done when I first awakened. As soon as it was clear, I drove myself to the hospital (yes, folks, we’re out there…).

The folks in the lobby must’ve seen me zigzagging like a drunk across the parking lot. They had a wheelchair waiting for me.

I must add here, for the benefit of future heat exhausted patients, that emergency room workers should NOT run with their patients down to the ER. As I was hurled along those stark green and white fluorescently-lit halls, it was all I could do not to “hurl” in another sense.

Long story short, two hours’ later, the doc told me that I had flushed most of the electrolytes out of my body the day before. You see, I thought I was okay, all but immune to dehydration, because I had been sipping water all day. Apparently, when it’s 90+ degrees and you’ve got a couple of infernos going behind you…and you’re wearing three layers of clothing…you need to replace those electrolytes, not just slake the thirst.

The doc recommended either Pedialyte or Gatorade; I prefer something a little healthier…and less expensive.
Fortunately, folks in earlier centuries made something called Haymakers’ Punch, or Switchel. I got to try some while visiting another living history museum in New Hampshire over a dozen years’ ago and they gave me the recipe. It’s an acquired taste for some. Others, like myself, think it’s delicious. Here it goes:

1 cup apple cider vinegar
¾ cups of honey (preferably locally grown)
4 teaspoons of molasses
¼ teaspoon of ginger (there’s that ginger again…)

Place all of the above ingredients in a cup of warm water, stirring constantly until dissolved. Pour the mixture into a 1 gallon container (preferably glass or ceramic; I don’t recommend plastic for any recipe). Fill the rest of the container with water. Keep in the refrigerator.

A word to the wise: Switchel is meant to be sipped, not gulped, or drank straight down.

Though it does not have all the fancy labeling, coloring, and artificial flavorings of either Pedialyte or Gatorade, Switchel will keep you hydrated during those hot summer days when you need a little more than just plain water to keep your cool. And it’s definitely an inexpensive alternative.

May God bless you & keep you!