Category: Animals

Animals, Creativity, Herbs, Homesteading, Nature, Writing

3:30 Woman

Lisa Burbank

I remember many years ago, when I was dating my first husband, he painted a little soldier figure and christened him “3:30 Man”. “Is it 3:30 yet?” was the daily battle cry within the stockroom where we worked together and it was boldly painted on the side of this figure. “3:30 Man” sat on the desk that my ex shared with his then-supervisor. 3:30 p.m. was the magical time, the time when we could all go home and remember something of a life apart from the daily grind just to make ends meet.

Today his counterpart would be 3:30 Woman. But I doubt I would dress her in olive drab. 3:30 Woman is a lot more flamboyant. She’s wearing her Wellingtons in the mud and barnyard muck, raking old hay and animal waste into the compost pile after schlepping water and feed out to the barn. She’s standing in the kitchen with a bright pink apron over her clothes, measuring sugar and molasses to make her own brown sugar instead of the store-bought variety. She’s got a paintbrush in hand, dabs of paint on her hands, her arms, in her hair and is busy detailing that rocky beach gracing her office wall. She’s also pounding away furiously at the keyboard, not waiting for inspiration but writing anyway as Pearlina, Paz, Emmylou, Priscilla, Ozzy, Kirby, Whitney, Alice, Rosco and Ariel chirp and purr and chatter away in her lap, in the window, on the yoga mat. Eh, she needs a good dose of feline intervention to write. Without little paws climbing on the keyboard, the desk, begging in and out of the room and getting into jars of pens, markers and other office supplies, it would be too easy.

3:30 Woman, like 3:30 Man, is a defender of innocents but there the comparison ends.

Of course, 3:30 Woman is hailing 3:30 a.m. rather than p.m. At 3:30 p.m. she’s going into work to take pictures of cars and vans…and salivating over that Chevy High Country in a rich burgundy color, rather than going home. 3:30 a.m. is when life begins, a little blurry-eyed and incoherent, but it is a life worth living. Perhaps I should add a cuppa tea in 3:30 Woman’s hand though…a little mix of Slippery Elm (Ulmus rubra) and Echinacea (Echinacea purpurea) to soothe the vocal chords when it’s time to sing or, perhaps, a bit of green tea (Camellia sinensis) to control the asthma. When 3:30 a.m. is a bit of a challenge and she’s still slumbering away when that alarm goes off, perhaps just a cup of plain, ol’ Salada tea after the usual morning yoga practice to give her a little more “pick-me-up”. Either way, that cuppa tea belongs in her hands as much as 3:30 Man holds his rifle in defense.

And, as another alarm goes off, this one to remind me to step away–if only for a while–from the literary world and attend to homesteading matters instead, I smile and wonder, “Is it 3:30 yet?” I’ve still got a few more chapters left.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Gratitude, Writing

Another Quickie…

Lisa Burbank

This morning was tough. The alarm went off at 3:30 and I didn’t have the heart to disturb Priscilla, one of my feline roommates (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!), so I snuggled back into the pillow and enjoyed the slow rumble as I tickled her under the chin.

Like Ariel, Priscilla is another calico. She was dropped off last summer, very pregnant and very skittish. Her first morning here she bit my arm as I reached over her to clean her kitty pan. I spent several hours in the ER, received a tetanus vaccine and discovered that I am highly allergic to it as I spent an afternoon huddled under several quilts, shivering uncontrollably in 90+ temps with a fever of 106 degrees. Naturally, Mom rushed me back to the ER; I now have one of those funny bracelets with a serpent on it saying “no TDP or TDAP vaccine”; the doc says I’m better off taking my chances with tetanus next time. But Priscilla and I have obviously come a long way since then and I enjoyed the bonding this morning, Priscilla rewarding me with her patented “I-can’t-get-close-enough-to-you” nuzzling of hands and face.

When I finally crawled out of bed–about 1/2 hour later–I decided to finish the short story I’ve been working on for class. And, being the perfectionist that I am, it took me longer than anticipated but, for once, I submitted it early rather than 2 minutes to midnight on Sunday when it is due. Finding myself rapidly approaching the big 5-0 and a college student is kind of like experiencing this strange sort of time warp but I wouldn’t change a thing.

And tomorrow morning I’ll be back early. This blogging thing is addicting.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Gratitude

The Boss Lady

Lisa Burbank

ariel Every once in a while, I write one of “those” posts when a beloved pet passes on. It’s inevitable. Life expectancy for a dog or a cat, or any other animal, is typically much shorter than it is for humans. And, on a farm, where the population of animals is generally much greater than the average household, “those” sort of posts are to be expected a little more often. But, no, this isn’t one of “those” posts; I’m celebrating the life of my beloved feline, Ariel, while she is still kicking and breathing.

Mom calls her “The Boss Lady” as every other cat and dog in the house stands at attention when she speaks…and speak she does. I used to refer to her as my Welcoming Kitty (rather than Welcoming Committee) as she would come running over to the door, meow, meow, meowing at whoever entered. It didn’t matter who; all were welcome. Age is slowing her down a wee bit; she’d rather meow from the comfort of the rocking chair than run to the door now but the meow is still full of enthusiasm for your arrival. She’s also been known as the Parrot Lady as, in her youth, she would gladly ride around on your shoulder purring and chirping at you for hours.

Ariel, along with her litter mates, Woody and Paz, were found over 16 years ago under a log behind the property I was living at with my then-husband, Dan. My dog, Tessa, found them. Unfortunately, Tessa dove under the log and pulled a 4th litter mate out. She didn’t eat it but, well, we won’t go there. It was sad and heartbreaking, and the oxymoron of it is that once the other 3 kittens were in the house, they became Tessa’s best friends–especially Paz. The mother cat had once belonged to a tenant that had left her behind; we were never able to catch her and my ex-father-in-law, unfortunately, saw her get hit by a car sometime–and another litter of kittens–later. He gave a home to two of the kittens from that litter; my ex-brother-in-law took the other two. I had a much older cat, Samantha, when Paz, Woody and Ariel moved in. Samantha was 16 and it was the equivalent of putting some little old lady in with a bunch of rambunctious teenagers…except for Ariel. While Samantha would squawk at her at first, the two could usually be found sleeping on the bed together and I swear, Samantha spent the time whispering words of instruction on how best to take care of “Mommy”. You see, then it was Samantha whose days were shortening as a compromised urinary tract started getting the better of her. The bond between Samantha and Ariel lasted almost a year; Samantha succumbed to renal failure in May of 2001, just months before Dan and I purchased our home together.

For friends and family members who knew Samantha, she was quite the cantankerous kitty. She had a select few whom she would allow the privilege of petting her…and even we lost a few pints of blood from time to time. She was all attitude. And while Ariel has never been quite as aggressive, she knows how to hold her own…even now as we move into the winter of her life.

Ariel has a tumor. It is just under her right front armpit. A couple of “fatty” tumors also grace the side of her face but they are benign. I’m not sure about the one under her armpit as it seems to be growing, slowly, but growing nonetheless. I have not had it biopsied. She is too old for any surgery and I wouldn’t put her through such an invasive surgery anyway; I’ve been there before with other felines. Never has their life been preserved by it but the quality of life has been further compromised. And, with a biopsy, there is always the risk that it will spread the cancer if, indeed, cancer exists. I discovered the tumor in January, called the vet immediately, and, thankfully, he is respecting my decision with this. Now, before all the fanatics go into hysterics, Ariel is under veterinary supervision. She is eating, drinking, evacuating her waste okay; her breathing is normal. It doesn’t seem to be affecting her at all other than a slight limp these last few months as the growth has started interfering with her gait somewhat. However, she can still jump onto the bed, the easy chair, climb stairs and, generally, continue to live the life she’s always lived. But that doesn’t stop each moment from being even more precious than it was before this growth developed. And I swear, she is starting to turn the mantle over to the next “Boss Lady”. Or maybe, “Boss Gentleman”…

Alice (named for rocker Alice Cooper) is a gorgeous flame-point with vivid blue eyes (he should’ve been called Sinatra for his ‘ol blue eyes) and the most loving temperament one can imagine on a feline. At times, I swear he is Woody incarnate–a veritable cuddle bug. He has been enamored with Ariel since he first crawled out of the nest–much to Ariel’s initial chagrin. Alice is one of the kittens kept from last summer when his mother, Priscilla, was left on my doorstep. I heard the footfalls running away from the house the evening before, as whoever her previous owner was, dropped her under the window of the rabbit room and got all of the buns to thumping those back legs in alarm. Alice just adores Ariel…until she starts growling and hissing at him. Then he runs away all bewildered as to why his attentions have been so violently rebuffed. Until lately. Now he’s standing his ground a little bit, aware that Ariel, unlike Samantha, is all bark and no bite. However, I’m not sure he has the temperament to be a “boss” here; we have some pretty dynamic personalities and I’m thinking, though he’s managing to finally charm “The Boss Lady”, it may be one of his litter mates who gets the title passed to them. We shall see…but I hope that won’t be for a very long time. “Mommy’s” not sure she’s ready to see that mantle passed.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Gratitude, Homesteading

A Labor Day of Love

Lisa Burbank

I awakened early yesterday morning but, instead of writing or blogging (bad me!), I decided to head outside to tackle some of the myriad chores that have been piling up here on the homestead. The heatwave is finally gone (thank God!) and now it’s time to play “catch up”. Haste, due to Hermine’s threat along the Northeast coastline, was another factor in heading out so early. So, with hand clippers, loppers, and wire cutters in hand, I headed outside.

The sky was just beginning to lighten when I started cutting back all of the Japanese knotweed, bittersweet, and smart weed that had been taking over since the start of last month’s heatwave. I had a romantic notion of also watching the sun rise but Hermine and her extensive cloud cover nixed that hope. Instead, I spent the better part of two hours cutting it all back and then heading back inside to begin the usual morning routine of feeding, watering and general care of all the animals, which included cleaning and scrubbing down all 6 rabbit cages. This one was truly a labor of love as I watched each of the bunnies scampering about, stretching their legs and nosing everyone and everything in endless curiosity; if I could bottle some of that energy, I’d be a millionaire. Of course, the cats also join us for this activity. Sweet Pea, one of my bucks, couldn’t wait to leave his cage to greet feline pal, Alice Cooper. The two had a wonderful morning of chasing each other in and out from under the old work bench.

But the biggest project was the removal of all of the chicken wire covering the coop. When I first got my chickens and ducks, I had two St. Bernards that had the run of the property. A friend fenced in a good-sized section of the yard with some old chain-link fencing and ran the chicken wire over the top to keep out hawks and other flying predators. Posts and heavy cabling were used to keep it from sagging but it hasn’t worked very well. The weight of heavy snowfalls over the years has left it bowing in several places, one so bad I had to walk bent almost in two. Of course, these depressions have also seen the accumulation of fallen leaves and it is in one of these depressions that Kiel, one of my Polish hens, has decided to roost every night. Since the loss of both dogs, the chickens and ducks are now free-ranging and it is no trouble at all for Miss Kiel to flutter up to the top of the gate and walk across the mesh to her nest. Not wanting her to fall victim to predation, I have been spending several minutes each night tickling the bottoms of her feet until she finally gets up, walks across the top of the mesh and flutters down and into the henhouse; this routine grew old rather quickly. So I took down the mesh. It took quite awhile, partly because the area is quite extensive, and partly because I had a little help in the form of three Nigerian Dwarfs who were quite taken with the tools I was using. Every time I set one down, Domino would grab it in his mouth and try to run off with it–or consume it, depending on the tool. When he wasn’t grabbing tools, he was climbing up on the fencing trying to get a better look at what I was doing. And all three trailed me everywhere, headbutting my legs for attention and grabbing mouthfuls of leaves as they fell from the top of the mesh. Fearing for their safety–and mine–I finally had to grab a few collars and coax them out of the coop with a few branches of the trimmed back Japanese knotweed and Lambs’ Quarters!

My hands now look like I got in a fight with a couple of alley cats on steroids! My fingers took quite a beating from the edges of wire as I continued cutting it away from the frame. But they’ll mend. And Kiel went right into the henhouse yesterday afternoon–migrating in with all of the other birds, as Hermine and the high winds she brought, set them running for cover early. I am grateful that it seems to have worked, making it a labor of love worth celebrating.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Creativity, Gratitude, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Nature, Spirituality, Writing

Monet I Am Not

Lisa Burbank

I added a brief blurb to one of last week’s posts about starting a mural on the wall of my home office. This is the one room of the house I have never painted in all the years I have lived here. I’m not sure why–and it certainly could use a coat of paint–but somehow the unpainted, unfinished walls add a sort of creative aesthetic to the room. A blank but less-than-perfect slate upon which to feed the creative genius. Last week, I painted the sky and the grass. This week I added details.

I am painting my dream life, my dream property in Maine. You see, I’ve been doing a lot of reading about manifesting, using creative visualization to manifest what you hope to achieve. I have several vision boards in the office, on the refrigerator, and even on the cork board next to my desk at work. For those of you unfamiliar with vision boards, a vision board is a collage of images of your heart’s desire. Mine have a wild assortment of goats, sheep, rabbits and Border Collies, as well as an array of antique furniture, spinning wheels, looms, beehives, and herb and vegetable gardens. You can add affirmations to them, too. The idea is to surround yourself with these constant reminders of where you want to be. I even have one with the image of a manual typewriter with an affirmation beside it that reads: I am a professional writer. Eh, whatever motivates you. And the mural is simply a larger vision board–one that I am putting a lot of passion and creative energy into as I improve upon my drawing and painting skills. (I read somewhere that this really helps with the manifestation process; it doesn’t hurt to try)

Painting a wall a single color is actually kind of boring to me. I know many contractors and house painters who find it meditative but I need more detail. Painting a scene on a bit of canvas is meditative for me–as long as I can still the inner critic. But that’s actually not hard to do as I paint simply for enjoyment. When I write, the critic comes out. Though I enjoy writing, too, I tend to forget the rule of thumb about not expecting your first draft to be bestseller material. It won’t be. Accept it. When I paint, though most of the details I’ve added to the mural are pretty easy to figure out, I am definitely not a Monet. And that’s okay…even if it is occupying the whole wall in my home office. Though not a Monet, it does look like a bit of folk art, with a whimsical willow tree over a sea cliff, and some fruit trees that look like they stepped out of a Tim Burton movie. Once I add some leaves and the actual fruit, these skeletal monsters will look a bit more benign. As for the animals? I think I am going to have to find some “how-to” books or websites; my artistic skills need a little honing before I add them to the wall. I can do a passable cat, rabbit, sheep and even a horse but my chickens, ducks and goats leave a lot to be desired.

All in all, it was a great way to spend an afternoon. I went into that proverbial “zone” for a few hours and found true relaxation, something that is often sadly lacking with me as I tend to be moving in 20 different directions at once. It’s nice to be able to focus.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animal Rights, Animals, Environment, Faith, Friendship, Healing, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Politics, Prayer, Religion, Spirituality

The Introduction Continues…

Lisa Burbank

I got broad-sided in my last post as I hit on one of my passions–feeding the hungry and feeding them well. But also, taking away the opportunity to “sponge” off of our government and the kindnesses of others. There are too many who abuse our system but the answer is a difficult one. Too often we find adults taking that advantage but, if you took away the benefit they are abusing, it is the innocent children who pay for it later on. And that is the dilemma our federal and local governments have wrestled with for time in memorium.

The environment is another big issue I could go on about ad nauseum. We damage our planet greatly by our dependence on fossil fuels; the use of chemical fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides and household cleaners; the use of lawn treatments such as Scotsgard and TruGreen (Sp?); our over-consumption of electricity and water waste. Then there is the over-use of convenience foods and convenience items such as plastic cutlery and TV dinners that not only harms our rivers and streams but also our bodies. I read in Cunningham’s “Environmental Science: A Global Concern” that by 2020 there will not be enough fresh drinking water for everyone–even in the United States!  2020. That’s just 4 years’ away.  How scary is that?  Ironically, a major culprit in the contamination of our water is the plastic, single-serving bottle through which our water is sold on most supermarket shelves.  It actually takes the equivalent of 5 bottles of water (or 60 oz if the bottle is a 12 oz) to produce one of those plastic bottles. And, once created, the water used to make it is unfit for consumption.  Not only is it a waste of money–there is usually nothing worse coming out of our taps, and bottled water companies likely get it out of a tap somewhere else–it is a waste of life’s most precious resource.  As a holistic health care practitioner, I am grateful to see so many people adding more water to their daily intake but a reusable travel mug would work just as well, save tons of money each year, and millions of gallons of clean drinking water.

Another environmental hazard today is the K-cup coffee machine. Mom and I figured it out one day. We took the large metal canister of coffee she buys at the supermarket for $5 and change, which lasts her a full month of 4 cup pots of coffee each morning, and divided the sticker price by, roughly, 120 cups (30 days X 4 cups) and came up with .05 cents per cup of coffee. Then we divided the sticker price of a box of K-cups by 20, which is the average number of cups in a package, and came up with .75 cents per cup so, by making coffee the old-fashioned way, you save .70 cents per cup. When you factor in the plastic K-cups themselves and how much water is contaminated to make them, the aluminum covers–aluminum has to be mined out of the earth and creates more water and soil pollution than I care to speak about in polite company–and the likelihood of having to replace the K-cup machines more frequently than the standard drip coffee maker due to our modern society’s obsession with the latest technologies and, the only thing I can ask is, does any of this make sense from either an economical or environmental perspective?

And, yes, this is obviously a pet peeve of mine. I have many others. As an herbalist, the list of side effects from modern pharmaceutical drugs is frightening. Oftentimes, the side effects are worse than the malady the drug is supposed to control (Note I said “control” not “cure”). There was one in particular that has always stuck with me. Sadly, I cannot remember the name of the drug but only its use for treating headaches. One of the side effects was “gas with an oily discharge”. Eeew! I think I’d rather deal with the headaches…or seek a different treatment, such as an herbal tea or a 20 minute nap or a modification of my diet. This is just my honest opinion, of course. I am not a licensed doctor so I am not asking anyone to do away with whatever he or she has prescribed. I am simply wondering how good for us these prescriptions really are. These are our bodies and, while I applaud the pharmaceutical industry for providing this information so we can make our own intelligent choices for our health, still, our health is ultimately our responsibility and we do have a choice in what goes into our bodies.

While I am on the pharmaceutical subject, another pet peeve of mine–actually, an issue that I am as passionate about as our environment–perhaps more so–is anti-vivisection. Vivisection is the use of animals to test drugs, household products, medical procedures, military weapons, and anything else science elects to experiment with this month. If these poor creatures could speak, would they choose to be the, um, well, guinea pigs (pardon the poorly-chosen pun) for these experiments? I doubt it. What makes their lives any less valuable? What makes it ‘okay’ to maim, poison, injure, infect or kill them simply because some members of our society view them as “lesser” life forms? And how accurate is the data from these animal experiments versus the comparison with human DNA? How many drugs get recalled after testing “safe” for animals because, when given to a human animal (yes, we are animals, too, not vegetables or minerals…) they cause serious side effects, even death? How many rabbits have to blinded before we can say this mascara is safe or we should avoid getting this bleach/pine cleaner, etc. into our eyes? How many goats must have their limbs blown off for us to understand how traumatic combat wounds are to our soldiers? And how many chimpanzees will be lost in space so that we can find another planet in our solar system (or a different solar system) to pollute beyond the capacity to support life? We say they are lesser life forms but it is Mankind that is often the true beast when such cruelty is so easily inflicted and justified for our own selfish gains. Again, there are other choices. And we can support those choices by electing to buy cruelty-free products and electing government officials who support both cruelty-free and eco-friendly practices.

If we could find a candidate who also has faith in God, what a blessing that would be. This one is a tough one because I have the utmost respect for other belief systems. I cannot, in clear conscience, “condemn’ or judge someone as “wrong” or “bad” because they worship Buddha or Goddess Diana or even Allah. Our beliefs are at our core. They are the foundation of our very lives (unless, of course, we are talking about atheism but even that tends to be deeply rooted). However, here in the United States, our very culture is being stripped away as our First Amendment right to freedom of religion seems to include every other religion EXCEPT Christianity. If I pray openly in school, I am at risk of being expelled. If I pray openly in a public place, well, I may not be arrested yet but I may be asked to leave if it makes the other patrons uncomfortable. Why? Does it remind you that you have forgotten Him, whatever name you attribute to your Higher Power? Government buildings can no longer have pictures, slogans, etc. that reverence our Christian God though He is the foundation for this government. And, yes, before we go further, I am one of the First Americans, with my Narragansett and Mohawk heritage, and well aware that Christianity is not truly the first religion practiced here on these shores. I cannot change what my European ancestors did when they took over this land but would it make sense to allow history to repeat itself so that yet another culture is all but destroyed? And, I believe in my heart, that losing Him, hiding Him, removing Him from the foundation of our government is why we see so many without work, losing their homes, and we see so much violence in every form. Yes, Christians have committed some bloody acts in history, too. But, without faith, there is no balance, there is no compass point to keep us straight and true. And, while it is often the actions of Christians–especially Christian officials–that turn people away from Him, we should remind ourselves that priests, pastors, ministers, Jesuits, etc. are merely human beings. They are not God. Though most of them sacrifice everything they have to follow Him and to lead others to Him, they, too, are subject to all of the human failings and, while it may be difficult to do so, it would be wise to remember this lest our faith be shattered by those human failings. Faith in God, not in priest, pastor or otherwise. As for those individuals who share different beliefs but still come to these shores? Our First Amendment welcomes you and invites you to stay true to your beliefs but it does not give you the right to take away mine, to tell me or my government that we cannot print “In God We Trust” on our American dollar or place a manger scene on the lawn of our town hall. Instead of protesting, petition this same government to include symbols of your beliefs on the front lawn during your important holiday celebrations. I will not be offended to see, for example, a Menorah during Hanukkah or, for 2016, pictures of monkeys to commemorate the Year of the Monkey for the 2016 Chinese New Year. In fact, I welcome these sights as they provide the opportunities to learn more about you, my new neighbor. And, perhaps, if I greet you with such love and respect, you won’t feel as threatened by my God when I share Him with you as well.

God bless you & keep you!