Category: Alcoholism

Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Christianity, Community, Faith, God/Jesus, Healing, Scripture, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Social Media

End Days

Lisa Burbank

“This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, truce-breakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, high-minded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God, having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away. For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts, ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (2 Timothy 3:1-6)

I don’t know if these are truly “end days” but it sure feels like it when I read that passage from Scripture.

I mentioned in my last post that social media is breeding narcissists, or men who “shall be lovers of themselves.” Granted, this is only one person’s opinion based on personal observation, but it is what I see.

I refuse to refer to any dictionary written within the last 20 years, except for comparison, as the definitions keep changing to suit the more depraved needs of our fallen society. That being said, the 1967 edition of the Merriam Webster Dictionary defines narcissism as another word for egoism, or egocentrism.

Egoism is “1. a doctrine that all the elements of knowledge are in the ego and its relations, 2a. an ethical doctrine that individual self-interest is the actual motive of all conscious action, 2b. an ethical doctrine that individual self-interest is the valid end to all action.”

Egocentric, the root of egocentrism, has this to say “1. concerned with the individual rather than society, 2. taking the ego as the starting point in philosophy, 3a. limited in outlook or concern to one’s own activities or needs, 3b. selfish.”

Today narcissism has had more controlling and manipulative traits added to its definition. If you Google narcissism, you get: “a personality style marked by grandiose self-importance, a profound lack of empathy, a constant need for admiration, and a belief in one’s own uniqueness and special status.” Then AI goes on to say that there is a “sense of entitlement,” “fantasies of success” and “exploitative behavior.” This definition seems to build upon the earlier, and likely more accurate definition, but there is also further reading about something called: Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Sadly, every bad behavior, every area of our lives where there is a need for God’s healing and love, we turn into a disease or a disorder…and there’s definitely some validity in that. This is because it makes it easier for the victim–whether we’re talking about the person(s) adversely affected by another’s poor behavior, or the person caught up in that poor behavior–to heal, to see what’s been afflicted upon them as something more manageable, something they can change, or improve upon.

Oftentimes, with any sort of abuse–including controlling and manipulative behavior–the victim (in this case, the person being adversely affected by another’s behavior) takes on the mantle of blame and shame. It’s somehow their fault. We see this especially in children. The child who is being abused in some way pushes himself/herself to excel…to a point of fanaticism, where it actually becomes a form of self-harm. Their whole sense of being is tied up in winning, in doing their best…and that best is never good enough because, if they were good enough, they wouldn’t be abused. It’s a vicious cycle. I call them “mind tapes” and they are the most insidious consequences of abuse. By calling the abuse, the addiction, the controlling and/or manipulative behaviors a “disorder” or a “disease,” we help rewrite those “tapes.” The victim learns to accept that it wasn’t their fault.

The flip side of that is by re-labeling something a “disease” or a “disorder,” sometimes accountability gets lost.

Yes, oftentimes the person with the “disorder” or the “disease” was themselves a victim of someone else’s “disorder” or “disease” and never learned any other way of behaving, or treating others. And, yes, they often do see, or hear, themselves. The regret and shame get internalized, festering, growing, tying them in as many knots as the people around them. At some point, they hit rock bottom and finally seek the help they need to heal.

Or not.

Some people never seek help. Some people never see a problem, never believe there’s been harm done.

That’s happening on social media, too. We have the armchair critic, or “expert,” who “shouts” down anyone who disagrees with them. Their pages are filled with vitriolic memes against Democrats, Republicans, Christians and our Founding Fathers. If said memes make some sort of claim and one fact-checks it, sharing a link to that fact-check, they become unhinged. There’s no reasoning with them.

Just like there’s no reasoning with the alcoholic, the drug, sex or gambling addict, etc.

One thing that none of the definitions of narcissism includes is that, oftentimes, the person who displays this egocentric behavior does NOT truly think so highly of themselves. Oftentimes, the narcissistic behavior masks a carefully hidden lack of confidence and faith in their own worth. The definition is only about the behavior itself, not the root cause of it.

And where do we most see this mirrored?

Yes, on social media.

Every armchair critic or “expert” seeks validation of their beliefs and opinions. That’s often why they react so strongly when somebody calls them out, or simply does not share their opinion: only their opinion matters.

We share photos of our own accomplishments, and those of our children or grandchildren, but how often do we share the accomplishments of others?

And though it may seem innocuous enough, and some may engage in it just for the fun of it, instead of posting an actual photograph of ourselves, we create an avatar. We use the provided filters to create an image that completely takes away from our true beauty. At best, we upload a photo from 20 years ago…when we were younger, thinner, etc. In short, we create a lie. We allow our egos, bruised and battered though they may be, to elevate “self” rather than others…as He has called us to do.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Alcoholism, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Community, Compassion, Enlightenment, Faith, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, God/Jesus, Healing, Love, Politics, Prayer, Self-improvement, Understanding

Avoidance and 30-Day Snoozes

Lisa Burbank

“And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men: knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.” (Colossians 3:23-24)

Another three day weekend and, of course, I made plans–plans to get a lot of chores done that I’ve been putting off, daunted by the enormity of them. I think it was Mother Teresa who said: “You want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans.”

No, nothing catastrophic. Instead of making a huge dent in some of those chores, it may be more of a small dimple. Instead of hustling after church yesterday, I made a second cup of tea and curled up with a book that I’ve read skeighty-eight hundred times before…because, well, avoidance. I am plagued with it.

Yes, Sunday is a day of rest. And I do feel more energized with having given myself that bit of “rest” but, of course, the guilt complex threatens to take over: should-of, could-of, would-of.

I think that falls under the sin of pride category.

Or vanity…

Maybe both?

I almost bowed out of going to church yesterday (gasp!). But, in the end, I decided I needed a true day of rest. Not avoiding the service altogether, but simply enjoying it for itself. I wasn’t serving as either Lector or Eucharistic Minister yesterday. The choir wasn’t singing the Mass this week. I had no responsibility other than to sit and listen to His Word.

And that’s what He wanted me to do.

This is what happens with avoidance, with procrastination, etc. I miss out on life’s blessings. And yesterday’s homily went straight to my heart from His. Had I stayed home instead of attending, I would’ve missed this important message.

It was all about humility, of being humble enough to accept one’s limitations, of not needing the last word or constantly trying to trump another person.

Having been brought up in a household with alcoholism and abuse, I tend to avoid conflict at all costs. I may post memes and articles on social media that are a little provocative, but I try to be sensitive of others. Still, what I post does open the proverbial can of worms from time to time…even unintentionally. I’ve learned that anyone posting a snarky response to those posts doesn’t really care what I have to say in defense. They’re not interested in compromise or reconciliation. I’ve learned that nobody truly wants to know why you voted the way you did…except to tell you that they’re right and you’re wrong. They don’t want to know the issues at your core that you simply cannot compromise on. Often, I find myself getting caught up, as guilty as I charge others, provoked by accusations and insults, and getting tied up in knots along the way.

Divide. Divide. DIVIDE…isn’t that the adversary’s way?

What should be hailed as a brilliant means of reconnecting with old friends and classmates we’ve lost touch with, or family members who live too far away for regular visits, the adversary has twisted towards his own end. I’ve posted before about being unable to see the person on the other side of the keyboard, to read expression, or hear the tone of voice, to emphasize with that person in any way. Social media has turned us all into budding narcissists, focused on self rather than community…rather than focusing on the One we should be focused on.

Did I mention I hate conflict?

Sometimes it is unavoidable. But, with social media, it is almost always avoidable. I don’t have to engage. I don’t have to have the last word. I don’t have to leave my own snarky remarks. I’ve learned to weigh carefully what I post, or share, so as to avoid any conflict…and, again, it still happens. I’ve worn out the 30-day snooze feature on Facebook. I refuse to give up on anyone simply over a difference of opinion so I seldom, if ever, “block” or “unfriend” someone. But, there are some friends from whom the vitriol flows like the mighty Mississippi…and, sadly, that small handful gets “snoozed” repeatedly. It’s a way of setting some boundaries without shunning someone entirely. Social media also tends to breed cyber-bullies.

One friend who might fall into this last category came to church yesterday. I watched her walk in and take a seat on the opposite side of the aisle. About this time last year, it was almost like she waited for me to post something about which she could brow-beat and bully me…and then any friends or family members who came to my defense.

For a moment, a sneer and a snarky thought reared up inside of me…then Father Ben launched into his homily. Bulls’ eye!

That inner sneer and snarky thought pattern is on me…not her. The realization almost broadsided me. No matter how much she may have cyber-stalked and bullied, it takes two to make or break a relationship. What have I done to contribute to any break between us? I felt the sting of shame as I thought of other sneers and snarky remarks aimed in her direction. This was no way to treat a friend.

I tried to catch her eye during the meet-and-greet (it has another name that escapes me at the moment…) just before Communion. Either she didn’t see me, or chose to avoid me. I thought back to all of the times I’d tried to reach out to her after Mass before, and how it always seemed to escalate into more of the same as on social media with each of us beating our heads into the proverbial brick wall, hoping to get the other to see the light in each other’s views. I heard again the lines from the Prayer of St. Francis: “O Master, grant that I may never seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand…”

Could I approach her with that kind of humility? Could I approach her with ears, mind, and heart to listen without judgement? Could I have a conversation with her without having to be right? I spent the rest of the Mass in quiet soul searching, finally hearing that still, small voice saying to leave it alone…for now. Give it time.

In the end, she left church as swiftly as she came in and averted her gaze from me as her car passed mine in the parking lot.

She’s not ready. Maybe neither of us are. Maybe any conversation would’ve escalated just as before…no matter any good intentions to the contrary. That old adage about not talking politics or religion is apt.

That still, small voice spoke Truth, as it always does. Leave it alone. Let it go. For once, I allowed myself the grace of taking that step back and listening, really listening to that Truth. That’s something we all need to do more often. Put down the phone. Walk away from the screens (yes, even this one…lol!) and the drama within them. Stop filling every waking hour with busy-ness and noise. It’s okay to just sit quietly. To pray. To think. To listen. To dream.

To simply BE.

What Truth is He laying on your heart today? Are you bold enough to listen?

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Alcoholism, Bereavement, Christianity, Forgiveness, Friendship, Grief, Healing, Humanity First, Love, Memories, Politics, Prayer, Scripture, Self-esteem, Tradition, Understanding

It’s An Age Thing

Lisa Burbank

“The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the Lord is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.” (Psalm 92:12-15)

I turned 58 last Wednesday. Not a milestone of any kind, and a day like any other. The many Facebook posts and text messages wishing me a “Happy Birthday!” were about the only occasions to mark it (outside of dinner on Sunday with Mom and a friend). None of this is a lamentation of any kind. I am grateful for all the well-wishing. But, damn, if I don’t feel every inch of those 58 years these days!

Aside from the usual aches and pains that accompany aging…especially those of us who have long abandoned our yoga practice…it’s the heartache that also accompanies this aging process. As the old saying goes: “Growing old ain’t for sissies!”

It’s the faces no longer here, which seems to occur with more rapidity as the years advance. It’s also the changes in relationships.

And, along those veins, a lamentation against modern technology and the havoc it can wreak. I.e. We are far more open about our thoughts and feelings on social media than we are in person. We say things maybe we wouldn’t. And, for those of us who have always been the dour church mouse in the corner, we speak up for ourselves where, in person, we’d probably continue to take the verbal abuse.

My bestie since middle school unfriended me because she didn’t agree with whom I cast my vote for in the presidential election. That’s her right not to agree with my choice. But it was the insinuation posted on Facebook that she wouldn’t trust old friends with the whereabouts of Anne Frank that stung. I haven’t become this racist, homophobe, wannabe fascist because my more conservative side has emerged in the face of certain social changes. Whatever your skin tone, religious beliefs, country of origin, gender, or sexual orientation, you are welcome at my table as a friend…and always will be. If someone slights you because of who you are, I will still fight by your side for fair treatment. As long as you treat me and mine with the same respect and courtesy, that will never change. I will add whatever your political views to the list above, too.

I don’t care about any of that. I care about YOU.

There’s been a lot of reflection this past week. And a realization that my bestie hasn’t picked up the phone to call me just to chat in almost 10 years. I assumed it had to do with the “convenience” of social media. But, over the years, my calls to her have almost always gone to voicemail…and never a returned call. Those rare times that she has answered, it was as though she couldn’t wait to get off the phone again. I’ve wracked my brain for some sort of incident that might have precluded this behavior. We’ve never had an angry exchange of words. And I’ve never known my bestie to be shy about expressing her feelings…even before social media.

I could be entirely barking up the wrong tree: she got married about 10 years ago. For those new to the blog, I grew up with a stepfather who, to keep it G-rated, wanted a little too much to do with me. He was also an alcoholic and, when under the influence, would fly into rages. Little by little, he pulled Mom away from the influence of others in her life: friends, family members. I can’t help wondering, when looking back over these recent years, if my voting preferences weren’t simply a final excuse to cut me out of her life…because maybe her new husband is doing what my stepfather did and constantly reminding her of “offenses” that were never really offenses to pull her away from others (i.e. a control issue).

The changes in our relationship over the years haven’t been lost on me but, knowing how strong of an inferiority complex I have from the aforementioned childhood, I’ve always assumed maybe I was being overly-sensitive. I’ve always trusted that our friendship was solid enough that, if there was ever a real problem between us, we could talk about it.

The other possibility is she’s afraid of saying something more hurtful and destroying the relationship altogether. And I’ll give her that. It’s a rather childish response, and a hurtful one, but I can accept it.

I just hope she knows I’m still here if she needs a friend to talk to (incidentally, my bestie and I live half a continent away from each other…not exactly a ride across town to see what’s up) if my earlier suspicions are correct.

These are the complexities of getting older, of seeing friendships change…some for the better, some withering away. It’s especially heartbreaking in this age of advanced technology that, while it has its uses, like everything, it also has its evil side. Relationships are always changing and evolving, always has been that way, but today, it’s much easier to slam the cyber door shut than it was the physical one in generations’ past.

I love my bestie. I love a lot of other friends who have gotten angry over my recent political choices. We don’t have to agree with each other, but we should be willing to look past those differences of opinion to the person inside. When we shut our hearts, and our minds…and our screens…against any effort to understand at all the what and why that may be driving those choices, we open the door to the adversary even more broadly. With today’s technology, he’s wringing his hands with glee and ecstasy the more divided we become…as individuals, as a nation, as a world on the cusp of nuclear war.

I hate how complex life seems to get the older I get. I feel my age more and more as the world changes around me…and feel a sense of rebellion against it. I understand my parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles more as I age, the clinging on to fond memories…and the feeling of being forgotten by a society that scoffs at those memories.

My door is still open to my bestie. My hope and prayer is that, once the mad fades away with time, she’ll “friend” me again, answer my calls and/or return them. If she needs a friend to talk to, I hope she knows, I will always be there for her. Perhaps she won’t understand it, will mock me as a door mat, or some such. She doesn’t seem to understand the concept of forgiveness, of loving the whole person despite their sins. She’s an atheist to this born-again Christian, so perhaps this was bound to happen with such a differing worldview. But I will always love her…despite those differences.

That’s one of the many blessings of getting older: you understand what matters most. It’s the people who share all those memories, who share however many trips around the sun we get to travel in this life that matter. And, because they do, I refuse to close that cyber door in return…or any physical doors. Life is too short.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Abuse, Alcoholism, Chronic Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Healing, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Poverty, Prayer, Scripture, Writing, Yoga & Fitness

Convenience Over Quality

Lisa Burbank

“And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient.” (Romans 1:28)

Despite my longing for a 19th century style of life, unprocessed foods and clean soil with which to grow food, I live in the 21st century. When I’m feeling tired, rundown, or overwhelmed, it’s pretty easy to cave into temptation and reach for a package of Ramen noodles. Or a can of Campbell’s soup. Would that there were healthier options available in that time of need. Would that I still spent Sundays cooking and baking a mountain of food to freeze for such times again.

Convenience is the reward for either my laziness, or my lack of foresight, in planning ahead for such “rainy” days. The price is a body that feels stiff and tired, eyes that burn with fatigue, and a head that’s filled with so much fog, I might need a foghorn to warn any incoming data of potential rocks up ahead.

Of course, there’s a snowball effect here, too. As I reach for convenience, I also find myself sleeping later, but not feeling rested. Regular prayer life, yoga and Ayurveda practices, daily walks, and just some quiet time alone have fallen by the wayside. How did I get into this rut? Was it only from another snowball effect of job losses, injuries and toxic relationships that led me here? Or something more?

The campaign ads are correct that so many of our illnesses come from what’s in our food. I have Irritable Bowel/Inflammatory Bowel Syndrome, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and Chronic Epstein-Barr. Childhood trauma, and the stress that comes with it, certainly contributed to these conditions, but our food system played its part, too. Mom was a single mother for many years, struggling to get by. She married an alcoholic, who was forever losing jobs because he was hung over and “couldn’t” work before an injury permanently disabled him, so the struggle not only continued, but increased on the stress barometer. We lived on a diet of Campbell’s soup, Rice-A-Roni, Noodle Roni, Hamburger Helper, and white flour products.

We couldn’t afford better. And most families cannot afford better today. In fact, the campaign ads are also correct that it’s gotten worse since I was a kid in the late-60s and 70s.

The answer is to hold myself accountable for my choices, take baby steps, such as ordering a salad at a restaurant instead of “loaded” fries, or writing a blog post that doesn’t make a lot of sense…but doing it anyway. Taking these small steps, and slowly increasing, until I’m feeling more like myself again. And giving back by making healthier foods and supplements (i.e. herbs) not only a staple in my own life, but a cornerstone of this homestead.

Of course, prayer is the biggest answer. Giving it all to God, taking it to Jesus in prayer, giving Him my lazy, my lack of foresight, my tired, stiff body, and allowing Him to build a lighthouse to avoid those rocks in the fog is the best blueprint for success. He is the One “convenience” that gives the best quality of life. Ever.

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!

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!

Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animals, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Exhaustion, Faith, Frugality, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Herbs, Homesteading, Minimalism, Politics, Prayer, Prepping, Proofreading, Religion, Scripture, Spinning, Weaving, Writing, YouTube

Going Forward

Lisa Burbank

“You have rejected us, O God, and burst forth upon us; you have been angry–now restore us! You have shaken the land and torn it open; mend its fracturs, for it is quaking. You have shown your people desperate times; you have given us wine that makes us stagger. But for those who fear you, you have raised a banner to be unfurled against the bow. Selah” (Psalm 60: 1-4)

            The water’s out again. It’s happening more frequently these days. We’ll have running water for a few days, and then the taps will run dry for 2, 3…one time 9 days’ straight. We’ve considered that a combination of local drought, mixed with the flood we had last year, may have run the well dry—or semi-dry. That’s a scary thought but, a credible one. Of course, it could still be that I need to replace the pump, or the resident rodent population chewed a wire somewhere. At this point, we simply don’t know. And the means to find out exactly what’s wrong, and actually get it fixed, is beyond me at the moment. We could be talking tens of thousands of dollars when all is said and done.

As I said in a previous post, I am bodaciously tired of all of this. The struggle has become unbearable. Moving would be our best option. This may be home but, home needs way more TLC than I can give it to make it comfortable and safe again. The problem is my credit is toast at this point. Can I hang in here long enough to rebuild my credit before home becomes completely uninhabitable? We’re almost there now.

            So many things, so many worries…I still have some juvenile felines that need spaying. The roof still leaks. Even when the water runs, there’s no hot water; the tank died a year and a half ago. We heat water for bathing on the stove…or rather the hot plate. The stove no longer works either. The house is a fright. This last because I’ve allowed depression to get the better of me. The task is too enormous and there never seems to be enough time. It’s nothing some serious elbow grease wouldn’t fix but, still, it can be overwhelming with all that needs doing and fixing. I’d love to rent the biggest dumpster imaginable and just toss almost everything in it, start anew, and less is best.

            On the plus side, my friend’s little boy made his First Communion yesterday. What a cause for rejoicing! His little face was aglow as he accepted the body of Christ for the first time. Quite a lot of extended family came to church to celebrate with him, including his older brother home from college. The only downside was the low number of children making that First Communion. I praise God for the 5 who received it. However, I remember the long line of children making their First Communion when I was a child. Sad that people do not make religious education a priority today. Maybe we’d have fewer shootings, fewer suicides, less drug addiction and abuse. Maybe not but, even a tiny seed of hope planted in the heart can do wonders. That’s what Jesus does for you; He fills you with hope. When you have Him, no earthly concern can truly hurt you.

            I’m also doing a weed walk next month, my first. I hope to create new business cards beforehand so I can pass them out to any who join the walk. I’m hoping to build a local following before I start uploading videos to YouTube. I want to get comfortable with the teaching aspect of it before I have to do it on camera. There’s also the whole technical learning curve before YouTube becomes a *thing* in my life. I will, of course, share the link once I finally do hit YouTube. In the meantime, there’s local weed walks and workshops…and a renewed commitment to build a brand through my blogs.

Yes, blogs…with an S.

Most who have been following me for a while know I also have an author’s page. I’m still working on the first novel but, I occasionally do book reviews on my author’s page. I am looking to get more intentional with that, too. The link is https://lisaburbank.wordpress.com

Then there’s the latest blog. This one started as a classroom assignment. We were asked to build a website for selling your product(s) and/or services online as a freelance writer. Well, I confess, I don’t sell any services as a freelance writer. Maybe in time I will. I’m pretty good at editing. And I’m gaining some experience with grant writing since becoming the director of a library. But, as a student, even having scaled back to part-time studies, the time needed to edit another’s work, or assist someone in the grant writing process, would be overwhelming. And, to be honest, when I consider selling those services, it makes more sense to me to do so through my author’s page.

However, that didn’t fly with the professor; I tried. It had to be a new website.

Now that the boring bibliography-about-nothing-in-particular is gone, I can revamp it.

Over the years, The Herbal Hare has been such a hodge-podge of *stuff*. I’m looking to get more intentional with what I include here vs. what should probably go somewhere else. For example, some years’ ago, I wrote a piece about growing up with alcoholism in the home and how it affects the whole family, sometimes for generations. I received a lot of new followers but, it didn’t have anything to do with homesteading, herbs, or prepping, and I lost a lot of those followers who didn’t like the new direction. I’ve also gotten social/political a time or two…and alienated some readers with that. I’m hoping that https://auntielisaspeaks.com will be an alternative. The Herbal Hare will remain a blog about herbs, homesteading, prepping, fiber arts, frugal living, minimalism, antiquated skills, animal husbandry and, yeah, still a bit of a hodge-podge. Homesteading encompasses a lot of ground.

Auntie Lisa Speaks will be one-part memoir, one-part social commentary, and one-part call to action to remember that no matter the issue, there’s a real person on the other end of the screen. Their thoughts and feelings do matter, and their struggles are real. Part of that call to action will also be a call to follow Christ; our country really needs God back at the center of things again.

May God bless you & keep you!

Alcoholism, Christianity, Cooking, Emergency Preparedness, Frugality, Healing, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Organic, Prepping, Recipes, Religion, Scripture, Spices

Wednesday’s Weed Walk: Tinctures

Lisa Burbank

“And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat” (Genesis 1:29)

Though it is a couple of weeks’ late, as promised, this week’s Wednesday Weed Walk isn’t so much about a specific herb but, about a way to preserve the herbs for future use when not in their growing, or harvest, seasons.

A tincture is, in my opinion anyway, the easiest way to make medicine. You can tincture a single herb, or blend them. I tend to do the latter…except when I’m making my own vanilla extract (recipe below).

To tincture herb(s), you need a clean, sterile container (repurposed glass Mason jars work well!) and, preferably, 100 proof alcohol of some kind. I use 100 proof vodka to tincture my herbs but other mediums, such as rum, would also work. You can use an 80 proof and broaden the selection of spirits but, you will need a few capsules of vitamin E oil added against spoilage, as anything less than 100 proof may mold. Apple cider vinegar (ACV), also with added vitamin E oil, will work for short-term storage. With ACV, you will have to store your tinctures in the refrigerator and they will only keep for 2 weeks, at best. When tincturing in 100 proof alcohol, your tinctures remain shelf-stable for up to 2 years. However, if you, or someone you love, is susceptible to alcoholism, or for young children, ACV may be the better option for you.

Tincturing is simple. You measure your herbs into a jar and pour the alcohol, or ACV, over them until they are covered with the liquid. Then you put a lid on the jar, label it with the contents, ingredients, the date you started the tincturing, and the batch #. This last isn’t 100% necessary but, if you decide to sell herbal products, having a running batch # is helpful should any adverse reactions occur. Depending upon the medium you used, you place the tincture into the refrigerator, or in a dark cabinet (too much light will destroy the healing properties), and shake it daily for two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, you can either leave the spent-herbs inside, and strain as you use it, or strain them now, at the two week mark, into another clean and sterile jar, or dark-colored bottle.

You can use fresh herbs, or dried. If using dried, remember the herbs will have a higher concentration of medicinal properties to them. 1/3 of the amount of dried herbs suffices. So, if you normally measure 1 tablespoon of, say, fresh chamomile, you would only use a teaspoon of the dried.

Making medicine is the part I like the best but, you can also use this method to create extracts for the kitchen, such as vanilla. To make vanilla extract, you will need a dark jar/bottle of some kind (you can find online, or many herb shops will sell them), or a dark cabinet to store them if using clear glass. It doesn’t need to be a large bottle. A couple of ounces suffices. Think of the tiny bottles that vanilla extract comes in at the grocery store. Anyway, take 2-3 vanilla beans, slice them in half lengthwise, and put them in the bottle (if bottle is short, you may also need to cut them in half the other way, too). Fill the bottle with 100 proof alcohol, screw on the cap, give it a shake and let it tincture for two weeks. Once the two weeks are over, however, in this case, you will NOT be straining the liquid into another container. Instead, keep the vanilla beans in the liquid. As you use it, you can simply top it off with more 100 proof alcohol, and/or add more vanilla beans over time. Also, in this case, the ACV will NOT work. However, any concerns over the alcohol content should be unfounded as the alcohol burns off in the cooking/baking process.

This same method will work for almonds, lemon peels, etc. too.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Alcoholism, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Gratitude, Herbs, Homesteading, Politics, Prepping

Snow Days

Lisa Burbank

“He took a little child and had him stand among them. Taking him in His arms, he said to them, ‘Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the One who sent me’.” (Mark 9:36-37)

I feel like a little kid today. It’s the first “real” snowfall of the season. I say “real” because the few light dustings we’ve had earlier in the year don’t count, do they? I mean, you can’t build a snowman, or have a proper snowball fight, with barely an inch of snow on the ground. However, winter storm Anthony, as the meteorologists are calling it, is a bit more substantial. I haven’t properly measured, or consulted the news’ stations but, merely by eyeballing it, I’d say we have 4-5 inches on the ground.

And, no, I didn’t spend the day building a snowman. Instead, I stayed in my pajamas all day, read a book, drank lots of Chai tea, and now I’m focusing on some homework…albeit, with this brief detour into blogging.

I have to build another website/blog for this term’s class: New Media. Another website/blog in addition to this one, and my author’s page. I’ve been questioning the wisdom of trying to keep up with 3 separate sites when I often drop the ball on the two I already have but, c’est la vie! I want a passing grade. And the only way to do that is to comply. If it proves to be too much, once the class is over, I’ll take it down. Sorted…

Of course, having another page also means coming up with enough content to support another page. I recently went through this site and tried to remove as much of the social/political stuff as I could. As this website was started as a place to share about herbs, homesteading and prepping, really, the social/political stuff doesn’t belong here.

Nor does it belong on my author’s page.

But there are social issues that I do care about that I’d like to write about from time to time. I’ve spoken a time or two about my childhood growing up with alcoholism, and having a father who wanted nothing to do with me…and a stepfather who wanted a little too much to do with me. I see some social issues in the news today that are all too reminiscent of that childhood and, lo and behold, a new site may be born.

However, when I started this new class a few weeks’ ago, I decided to go to a different platform to start this website. We use Wix at work so I am growing familiar with it. And, I figured, if I’m on a totally different platform, it’ll be harder for any social/political views to accidentally wind up on the wrong blog…and potentially alienate any longtime followers who do not share my views, or appreciate the research I hope to do to support my views.

And here I have to put in a plug for WordPress. Wix has got to be the most finicky, pain-in-the-@$$ website I have ever encountered. It looks like I may be starting from scratch creating this third website/blog…here on WordPress after all.

Who knew?

And, incidentally, it was my decision to close the library today. That feels so weird. The little kid in me delighting in the first “real” snowfall of the year is trying to reconcile this adulting thing where I have to make informed decisions for the greater good of my team. It was the right decision, given the snowfall and the slippery, sloppy roads. It just feels very weird–in a good way–to be the one called upon to make such a decision.

I am grateful. I am grateful for the new position. I am grateful for the responsibility entrusted to me. But it still feels weird. Maybe I should reconsider the snowman after all.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS Once this other blog is up and running, I will post a link somewhere for others to follow.

Abuse, Alcoholism, Animals, Christianity, Faith, Homesteading

Happy New Year 2023…(Observed!)

Lisa Burbank

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying ‘Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.

“He who was seated on the throne said “I am making everything new!’ Then He said, “‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'” (Revelation 21:1-5)

I missed the usual “Goodbye” to the old year with its remembrance of those lost to The Herbal Hare Tomestead on New Year’s Eve; I was in bed long before midnight. We did have one loss. And I feel it keenly: the last of my bunnies, Miss Tumbleweed, died over the summer months. She was 10 years’ old, a good age for a rabbit but, knowing she lived to a great age, doesn’t make the loss any easier to bear. She spent the last couple of years of her life without another rabbit for companionship but, considering where we’ve been financially, investing in more rabbits would’ve been foolish. When her brother, Sweet Pea, died, I moved her cage into the kitchen so she could at least be in the thick of things instead of sitting lonesome in what had been the rabbit room (doesn’t every good homestead have one of those?). Now we’re The Herbal Hare Tomestead without the hare (rabbit).

(Insert heavy sigh here)

I miss having rabbits. I enjoyed the nightly “bunny time” when I would let the bunnies out of their cages to stretch their legs, try a few binks, and explore. I usually had a book in my hand…though the usual ankle-head butts from one of the buns set it down again. It was the ultimate “down time” for me. I miss grooming them, too, though it could often be stressful (not all bunnies like to be handled too much). There will be more bunnies at this homestead again. In due time…

I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions; they rarely stick.

This year is different…and I have every intention of making it stick:

This year I am hoping to grow my relationship with my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. (Yes, and I can already hear the Adversary whispering his lies…)

My faith has taken a beating these last few years. I feel a little like Job, who lost so much, went through so many trials and tribulations, only to be given even more than he had had to begin with. I’m holding onto that hope. However, the thought of losing–comforts, things I’ve worked for, places that have meaning, and especially loved ones, like Tumbleweed–is a tough pill to swallow. But I’m leaving it all in his hands. Thy will be done.

Phew! That was tough even to write…

He’s been in my corner so much lately, helping me to navigate this foreclosure process; protecting my family though this fixer-upper has become unsafe and scary to live in; giving me full-time employment in a tanking job market, and showing me who is really in my corner on the human side of this equation. Despite present hardships, I have hope in my heart and feel blessed beyond measure. Blessed be the name of the Lord! It’s time to truly walk by faith. I want that closer relationship to Him. It’s no kind of life without Him.

Trust.

I have so little of it. Such is not uncommon when you’ve grown up with alcoholism in the home, certain types of abuse, etc., the dysfunctionality of such a home. I stick my toes in the waters–new jobs, a path towards one of many dreams, even relationships of every shape and size–only to pull them back out again. I procrastinate. I allow fear to rule over me, distrust and lack of confidence. Those dreams are for other people. More importantly, I forget to ask Him how He can use me. How may I serve YOU, Lord? How may I further your kingdom here on earth? Are the dreams you’ve put on my heart part of that kingdom? What if I gave everything to those dreams and let you take the reins to where they lead? Can I find that measure of trust needed deep down inside?

I can’t…but He can.

I think I have this year’s song of the year, too: What If I Gave Everything? by Casting Crowns. You may give a listen here:

May God bless you & keep you!

Tumbleweed 2012 – 2022