Category: Compassion

Animals, Books, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Fiber Arts, gardening, Herbs, Homesteading, Poverty, Spinning, Understanding, Weaving, Writing, YouTube, Zero Waste

Getting to the Starting Line

Lisa Burbank

“The rich man’s wealth is his only strength. The poor man’s poverty is his only curse.” (Proverbs 10:15)

I hate platitudes, those pat little bits of advice from people who have never walked an inch in another’s shoes, nevermind a mile.

Or maybe it’s not a platitude, but one of those itchy little thorns that get under your skin because you know there’s a grain of truth to it.

I once lamented to a significant other that he didn’t take me seriously. I can’t even remember what we were arguing about at the time but, very calmly, he said I didn’t take myself seriously. My initial reaction was what the f*** is that suppose to mean? Another friend told me that I missed my opportunities. Again, same initial reaction.

Yeah, it’s the itchy little thorn scenario.

I still don’t know if I buy the first one. That sounds like a lack of confidence (or a crafty little cop-out on his part…). Yeah, maybe I do lack confidence to some extent but, in areas where it matters, no, I’m okay there.

I know my writing is good. Sure, my blog posts may have a lot of run-ons and half sentences, but it gets the point across and people read it. The books I have “in-the-works” get more of the polish and, those who have read bits and bobs of them, tend to give positive feedback and encouragement. As a homesteader, well, we may soon be without a homestead. That’s enough to destroy anyone’s confidence for a spell, but not because I lack confidence that I can grow a significant amount of food, grow herbs, spin yarn, weave cloth, or keep bees and livestock. What skills I lack, I can always learn. It’s more of an insecurity thing, a fear of putting the work in to develop the present property only to lose it.

And, yeah, maybe wondering if any business ideas that I have will come to enough of a fruition that I can continue…here, or on another property.

This last falls under the heading of “Fear of Failure”, not “Lack of Confidence”. A business using goats to clear land; a secondhand bookstore and herbery; a zero waste store; a monthly newsletter/magazine that features herbs, natural fibers, and all things homesteading, or a YouTube channel featuring all of, or part of, the above are all viable ideas that have the ability to stand on their own. I don’t lack confidence in the viability of any idea. I believe in them enough to have created business plans and/or grant proposals for all of them. But, maybe, just maybe, I’m willing to concede that I lack the confidence that I’ll ever find the necessary funds, the land, and the physical support to see them fly (there should be a support group for impoverished wannabe entrepreneurs…). And that is where I fear the failure.

As for the other itchy little thorn? It’s difficult to take advantage of a presented opportunity if you have no way to support yourself, your family, etc. while you take that advantage.

So, yeah, these offhanded remarks have itched and poked and stung over the years with all of the tenacity of a killer hornet. They were also hurtful and callous remarks by the people who uttered them. And, as I sit here typing this, I can’t help wondering how many other would-be entrepreneurs are sitting out there feeling the same angst that I do. How many jobs are “lost” before they are ever realized? And don’t get me started on big box stores and monopolizing tech companies pushing out the small business owners who are able to make their dreams a reality.

May God bless you & keep you!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-our-farm-is-being-foreclosed

Animals, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Exhaustion, Faith, Forgiveness, Friendship, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Homesteading, Humanity First, Memories, Nostalgia, Poverty, Prayer

And Then the Other Hammer Falls

Lisa Burbank

“But Lot’s wife looked back as she was following along behind him, and became a pillar of salt.” (Genesis 19:26)

I feel a bit like Lot’s wife. He’s been pointing me away from here for years now. And I keep looking back, allowing nostalgia and sentiment to sway my decisions. Now home has become unsafe and I received the foreclosure notice yesterday.

WARNING: There may be some redundancy in my blog posts as the weeks roll on. I will be sharing the link to my Go Fund Me campaign periodically in my posts. Please forgive me; these are desperate times.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-our-farm-is-being-foreclosed?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_campaign=p_cp_guide_do&member=12637057

Even if you cannot help, if you could share this link on your social media pages, I would be forever indebted to you! Your prayers, positive thoughts and energy are also appreciated!

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Brothers & Sisters, Compassion, Healing, Humanity First, illness, Politics

Vaccine Perils, 2.0

Lisa Burbank

“A merry heart does good like a medicine, but a broken spirit makes one sick.” (Proverbs 17:22)

I don’t remember if I shared this first story here before. For any readers who have been here for a few years, first of all, thank you! And, secondly, my apologies for any redundancy in the retelling. For any new readers, also thank you! The retelling should provide the background without having to search through years of posts.

Anywho…

Back in the summer of 2015 I was sitting in my rabbit room (every respectable rabbit owner should have a special room for their buns, don’t you agree?) when all of a sudden the buns started thumping their back legs. This is their warning system to alert each other that something is amiss in their world. I looked around but couldn’t see anything amiss. Then I heard what sounded like muffled voices outside the open window and then heavy footsteps running away. It was dark outside so I couldn’t see anything but, a moment later, as I stood peering out into the darkness, I heard a caution little “Me-ow!” from below the window.

Another cat dumped off here at The Herbal Hare Homestead.

As it was dark and who knew if the person dropping said kitty off was still about (single female here), I waited until morning to investigate. The beautiful and very pregnant tortoiseshell feline had made her way around to the other side of the house and was waiting on the doorstep. She shied away then rubbed up against me when I opened a can of cat food for her. Later, Mom risked picking her up and putting her into a cage…and got bit!

We went to the ER where she was given both a tetanus and the first in the rabies’ series. Then she left for her sister’s for an overnight stay. I made an appointment with the vet for Priscilla then went into the bathroom where she was being kept separate from the other felines of the household to feed her again.

This time she bit me.

Back to the ER.

Because Priscilla was already quarantined, I didn’t need the rabies’ vaccine but he did give me the tetanus. I’d had a tetanus a few times before so, no big deal. I went home, went to work later that day, and by the time Mom came home that night, I was feeling horrible. I ached everywhere–especially my head–and I felt warm. I grabbed the thermometer and took my temperature. It was 105 degrees.

A third trip to the ER in fewer days.

We were there for hours while they pumped all sorts of electrolytes and pain relievers (mostly Motrin) into me to try and bring my fever down. They’d get it down, take out the IV, and I’d spike again. They were contemplating keeping me overnight but, eventually, I leveled off and they sent me home.

The next morning I was back up to 106 degrees and, in 90+ degree temps outside, burrowing under three of the thickest blankets we own because I was shivering uncontrollably. I couldn’t get warm!??!!

Fast forward to a follow up visit with my doctor and she recommended I get one of those medical bracelets. Most people don’t have an allergy to the tetanus serum. She believed I reacted to one of the preservatives and that, because the preservatives are often present in other vaccines as well, I should avoid things like flu shots and pneumonia shots and shingles shots…you get the picture! I would likely have the same reaction and, next time, she warned, there was a potential it could be worse.

We had another pregnant feline show up on the doorstep towards the end of April this year. This time we weren’t lucky enough to capture her before she birthed. We’ve christened her Zelda and she’s been coming faithfully since April for meals. She’s lovable, friendly, allows us to pet her, but she’s been nursing and we didn’t know where she’d gone to birth them. I even tried following her one time…to no avail. We didn’t want to capture her and have her babies starve to death without her, so we’ve tried to gain her trust with the hopes she would eventually bring them to eat when they got old enough.

Imagine our surprise when we discovered she’d birthed them under our back deck!

Mom spotted them all lounging on the back deck one evening around dusk. I very carefully went out with food in hand, set up a couple of cages, put the food in a bowl and placed it on the ground beside the deck (kittens had all run pell-mell back underneath when they saw me coming towards them). The plan was to wait until they came out for the food and scoop them up. The problem was Mama kitty was standing about 10 feet away, hissing, growling and definitely not being her usual friendly, lovable self. I had visions of her racing to attack if I dared nab any of them.

I wish now that I’d risked it instead of deciding to take it a little slower and gaining their trust better.

About a week later, I found one of the kittens in my barn with a broken leg. No clue how it happened. I took her to the vet. Her chances were good, but the leg was broken in two places, they might have to amputate and it was going to cost thousands of dollars to rehabilitate her…if she made it at all. I had to relinquish her to the local rescue as I simply could not afford the cost of treatment. I’ve been heartsick ever since. I know she would’ve died a horrible death if I hadn’t attempted to help her but I can’t help thinking if I’d grabbed them all that first night and risked Mama’s ire, none of this would have happened.

(I’m super lady, remember? LOL!)

Of course, she also bit me as I was trying to get her into a cage to transport her to the vet.

My tetanus was still good. It’s only been 6 years. But I hemmed and hawed. Should I go to the ER or not? I elected not to initially. The next morning my index finger was three times its normal size and my knuckles were swelling, too. I went to the ER…where the ER doctor promptly scolded me for waiting. He read my records, saw the reaction I had to the tetanus and decided not to give me another. But he kept circling back to this was a stray kitten. Did I know if it was rabid? What about the mother? He was scared to give me the vaccine because of my history but scared not to in case it was rabid. I was scared about the same. Eventually, I gave him the okay to administer the rabies vaccine. The logic was rabies will definitely kill me. The vaccine I have a 50/50 chance and he’s going to be looking for those reactions, prepared to intercede should I react again as I did with the tetanus.

Well, the last three weeks have been horrible! Headaches, body aches, chills, dizziness–this last frightening in that the room has been spinning even while I’m lying down. I’ve missed work that I can ill afford, been nauseous, no appetite. Again, it’s been horrible. Work on my book, my blog, everything has been halted. This weekend has been the first that I’ve felt semi-normal in a very long time.

And what did I hear from a friend yesterday after church?

“Well, if you survived the rabies vaccine, maybe you should think about getting the coronavirus vaccine, too.”

Even though my doctor, and the ER doctor, advised against it given my vaccine history??

I’m shaking my head right now. Everything has come down to political. Nobody cares about each other. They just want you to do what they do. And they will bully and berate you until you do…or call you selfish if you dig your heels in against their reasoning.

Or a sheeple from the other side of the aisle if you do cave.

I had a reaction to a tetanus vaccine, and then a rabies. Both are tried and true. I’d had the tetanus many times before, successfully so. It only takes one bad reaction. And, once it’s in your arm, it’s too late. It simply has to run its course. For some of us, that course might prove deadly.

To be honest, I’m tired of the bullying and berating that I hear on the news, from friends after church, from both sides of the political aisle. I’ve even stopped watching Stephen Colbert because of his promotion ad nauseum of the vaccine. This is a new vaccine that was rushed through the channels, so to speak. Understandably so. We are in the midst of a pandemic. But the FDA has not approved it, there has been no time for long-term testing, and most importantly, 1% of the population that has gotten the vaccine has reacted badly to it. Some have even died. Some had underlying health conditions. Some did not…or at least did not know they had them.

Again, once it’s in your arm, it’s too late.

And I’m not unique in my situation. Since that first episode with the tetanus, I’ve met many people who have shared similar stories. One friend from high school lost both her parents to a bad flu shot within a few days of each other. I cannot imagine the heartache.

And I know many have suffered heartache from this virus. I’m not saying don’t get it if you feel comfortable doing so. I’m saying stop bullying others for their refusal. It may not be selfishness on their part, but an underlying medical condition that makes them afraid. They may be unwilling to share their medical history with you. They may have lost a loved one to a vaccine like my friend from high school and so are afraid. It may be a deep-seated fear of a science that is all but being forced on people, a science that does not prevent you from getting this virus…just from spreading it. An important aspect, but their fear against the vaccine may be just as great as your fear of the virus itself. We can no more know if we will be in the 1% of having a bad reaction to corona than we know if we’ll be in the 1% who will react badly to it’s vaccine. Whatever “side” we stand on, judging others, bullying them, doesn’t help anything. In fact, the more you push for your own views to be followed, the more likely people will dig those heels in. These are our brothers and sisters. It’s time we started treating them as such, looking on with compassion…instead of derision because we haven’t walked that proverbial mile in their shoes and don’t know the reasons behind their choices.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Christianity, Compassion, Family, Healing, illness, Introvert, Love, Scripture, Self-esteem, Writing

The Need for Solitude

Lisa Burbank

“Don’t be selfish; don’t live to make a good impression on others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourself. Don’t just think about your own affairs, but be interested in others, too, and in what they are doing.” (Philippians 2:3-4)

Yup, that title does seem to contradict the passage from Scripture that I shared today. But it’s relevant.

I’m my worst enemy. I beat up on myself constantly, feeling selfish for taking a couple of hours each morning to write…because that’s what I do. That’s what makes me, well, me. I’ve also been feeling guilty for going to bed a little earlier, rather than sitting up with Mom (night owl), that I might get up early without sacrificing sleep. I feel like the bad daughter for getting together with friends by myself…even when Mom reassures me that I should be getting out with my friends once in awhile (Mom doesn’t drive, by the way).

But you know what I’m starting to realize?

I have less time and consideration for others when I don’t take those all-important times for myself. I catch myself zoning out at work when others are talking. I have to curb the rise of impatience when Mom, who has been home all day alone, anxiously relays the latest coronavirus news she read online. My time with the animals becomes the bare minimum of feeding and watering, maybe a quick scratch behind the ears, before I “escape” behind a book or a YouTube video. I snap. I huff out a breath of impatience. In short, I’m as prickly as a hedgehog on steroids, leaving everyone else hurt and bewildered by my inattention.

I’ve blogged about being an introvert before. I am often a chatterbox with those I’m closest to but, even with loved ones, an endless barrage of people-time makes me physically ill. I’m not a snob, or anti-social; it’s just part of being an introvert. Crowds make me feel lonely. Constant socializing feels overwhelming. I’m learning more and more how important it is to find a healthy balance so that quality time with loved ones truly is.

Now, if I could only silence that obnoxious tape playing in my head that tells me how horrible I am for needing that solitude. The way I see it after proofreading this, the real selfishness would be to give the hedgehog a few more steroids.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Bereavement, Brothers & Sisters, Compassion, Faith, Family, Friendship, Grief, Healing, Holidays, Homesteading, Memories, Nostalgia

Hindsight is Always 2020

Lisa Burbank

“Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where then your victory? Where then your sting? (1 Corinthians 15:51-55)

I don’t believe I am alone in saying this has been one of the most challenging years we have ever faced: A contentious election; conspiracy theories of wide-spread voter fraud; a deadly pandemic; the worst economy since The Great Depression of the 1930s, and a whole new meaning to the phrases “2020 vision” and, to reiterate the title of this post, “Hindsight is always 2020.”

As midnight creeps ever closer on this December 31, 2020, the only place I ever want to see 2020 again is through hindsight!

Of course, my inner-Pollyanna still looks for the silver lining: many of us have also renewed our appreciation for what matters most. As we sheltered in place, we got to rest, to read a few good books, enjoy the company of immediate family, pets, and find creative ways to occupy our minds and bodies.

I pray that everyone reading this is hale and hearty, and that somehow, some way, you are still standing strong. We WILL get through this challenging time.

And, as the tradition I started last year for New Year’s Eve, this last post of the year also remembers in a very special way those faces that will no longer grace The Herbal Hare Homestead…except in our hearts and the memories we keep deep inside.

My uncle, James Kimble, passed away in January. Sadly, by his own hand. He was 58 years old.

My Auntie Anne Marie Heon passed away due to complications from Covid-19, as did a family friend’s boyfriend, Richard.

A childhood friend, Paul Shelton, passed a couple of weeks’ ago due to a heart attack.

Technically speaking, none of these people ever physically visited The Herbal Hare Homestead; all of them lived in other states. However, they were loved and, again, will live on in our memories.

As for residents here, we lost quite a few beloved furry family members: chickens Goldie, a Buff Orppington, and Crow, a Black Austrolop; my first goat to be lost, Domino, who succumbed to heat stroke, and two beloved felines: my Pearlina Wilhelmina, who suffered cardiac arrest while being given sub-Q fluids by our vet, and Priscilla, who was found a couple of weeks ago on the floor of the rabbit room, also a stroke. And, though she was only here for a little over a week, Dolly. Dolly was a stray cat that showed up just before winter. I finally trapped her and took her to the vet for shots and testing to make sure she was healthy and, sadly, the vet found that she was having trouble breathing, there was an irregular heartbeat, and she was ancient. All of her teeth had fallen out, she was well beyond motherhood, and she had been lucky to have been carried as long as she had on the heart issues he detected. The kindest thing was to put her down. Still broke my heart.

I hate saying “Goodbye!”

Somehow, I believe this time next year will see me saying “Goodbye!” to the current location of The Herbal Hare Homestead as we search for new digs. That breaks my heart, too, as all of the aforementioned pets, and more, are buried here. But the fixer-upper house needs far too much TLC–more than I can give it, and it has become unsafe. I can no longer afford the mortgage payments. And, with the new neighbors raising Cain and Abel about zoning regulations, there’s no reason to fight in the first place. It is time to move on. Maybe we’ll bloom better where next we are planted.

In the meantime, may auld acquaintance be forgot, etc.

May 2021 be a better year for everyone…Happy New Year, my friends! May God bless you & keep you!

Pearlina Wilhelmina (white cat with black patches); Priscilla (tortoisehell laying across back of chair, her daughter, Emmylou, is the Russian blue tuxedo on the right)

Domino

Bereavement, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Faith, Family, Friendship, Grief, Love, Memories, Nostalgia

The Cycles of Life

Lisa Burbank

“And now, dear brothers, I want you to know what happens to a Christian when he dies so that when it happens, you will not be full of sorrow, as those are who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and then came back to life again, we can also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him all the Christians who have died.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14)

My heart is heavy yet again.

Snow is drifting and blowing about outside my window. There’s at least 10-12 inches on the ground, more still falling, and a prediction of up to 20 inches before it is done. Usually my heart delights like a little kid over a big snowfall like this. Instead, I keep thinking of a childhood friend: Paul “Peewee” Shelton.

Paul’s family rented the apartment above my family’s in St. Louis, Missouri about a year after we moved there in 1979. We were neighbors and friends for a number of years afterwards; have remained friends forever since. I went to school with his older brothers. His niece, Amey, played with my baby brother, Shaun. Our families went to Six Flags together and I saw my first concert–Johnny and June Carter Cash–with them at Six Flags. Our mothers became the best of friends, their birthdays a day apart, and every night (weather permitting, of course) like clockwork, the two of them would sit outside together on the stoop and chat about everything under the sun. They were like family.

They were family.

And always will be in my heart.

So that heart broke a little last night to learn that the youngest passed away yesterday. He’s younger than me. That just seems off balance for some reason. It’s hard for me to credit him as being 50-something (I’m 54; he was 2-3 years’ younger). I still see the gangly string bean of a boy who teased me throughout my teen years. I’m also reminded of a time–I’m not even sure how old we all were–but Peewee, as he was known then, had broken a window. It was an accident but, he was sure he was going to catch hell for it. He ran off and hid. When his mother got home I went looking for him. I found him sitting on the retainer wall by the basement door. He was still working off the mad, or fear, and told me to get out of there. I braved the mad to let him know she had said he wasn’t in trouble; she knew it was an accident. My heart went out to him in that moment of time. I’m guessing he was maybe 12 or 13. Later, he dumped the “Peewee” nickname, but I had to translate for Mom when I told her last night; she never knew his first name was Paul. He was always Peewee to her. She also caught herself thinking of him as that youngster, too; long distance will do that.

It sucks having loved ones scattered all over the country. One of the drawbacks of homesteading, or farming, is not being able to travel as readily as others; your animals always need care. I don’t begrudge it; they are God’s gift to me on this earth and they keep me going. But, when something like this happens, I wish I lived closer to hold a hand, to cook a meal for his siblings, to help them in whatever way I can to get through this hardship. They were always there for us when we were neighbors; it would be nice to return the love.

The best thing I can do from this distance is pray: for Paul, for his family, for everyone who loved and knew him…and at least offer my ear if they need to talk to someone who shares at least a little of their pain.

Rest in Peace, Paul Shelton…we will meet again. May God bless you & keep you! Love you always, my old friend!

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!

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A Plea for the Anti-Anti-Vaxxers

Lisa Burbank

“The wise are promoted to honor, but fools are promoted to shame!” (Proverbs 3:35)

I’m struggling here. I know the whole vaccine thing is a heated debate. However, I’m a little disturbed by some of the stories I’m hearing about the upcoming Covid-19 vaccine potentially being mandatory. They may just be “stories” but…

Hell, NO!

I am even more concerned about the abuse heaped upon those of us who choose not to get vaccines. We’re labeled selfish, insensitive, arrogant. I’ve even heard of people being physically accosted for their stand.

Yes, I understand the need to protect against another future pandemic. I understand that, in most cases, vaccines save lives. And I’m not necessarily an “anti-vaxxer” in the usual sense. I mean, I was vaccinated as a child against polio and small pox, and a host of other diseases, just like everyone else. If I had children, they would have gotten those vaccines just like every other kid. And, though there’s some controversy about the potential side effects of these childhood vaccinations, none of those side effects is death. These diseases kill…as does Covid-19, in some cases.

However, back in 2015, I had a bad reaction to a tetanus vaccine. I spiked 105 degrees, wound up back in the ER…and spent the next two weeks in a constant state of panic that I was going to die. The headaches that made it so I couldn’t even open my eyes; the serious brain “fog” that has never entirely left me; the constant fever surges, and the uncontrollable shivers that shook me, even as I burrowed under multiple quilts in 90+ degree temperatures, were terrifying. My doc believes that I had a reaction to either a preservative, or a carrier, not the tetanus vaccine itself as this was not my first tetanus.

But how can I be sure?

My doc also said that the next time will potentially be worse…and that those same preservatives/carriers are used for most vaccines, including flu, pneumonia, and shingles. Again, there is no way of knowing for sure. So I now wear one of those medical bracelets. Inside is a little card that says, “No TDP/TDAP, No Vaccines!” because the next time, I may not be merely terrified about dying. I am not a human guinea pig. And nobody else should be either…unless they choose to take the risk that they will be okay with any new vaccine.

You see, it’s all about choice. And that’s what a free society is all about.

No, I do not wish to harm anyone in any intentional way. I do not wish to spread this virus further. I wear a mask and gloves out in public; I wash my hands thoroughly. I clean door knobs and steering wheels, etc. with Clorox wipes. I’m staying home except for necessary trips to the grocery store, the feed store, etc.

But I’m not getting a vaccine. For me, it would be the equivalent of playing Russian roulette. And I’m not much of a gambler.

I recognize the fear; I truly do. We have this invisible enemy that we should all be working to defeat…and yet, we’re attacking each other instead.

Perhaps because our fellow human beings are more tangible than a virus.

Again, I’m not really an anti-vaxxer. I’ve had vaccines and, with the exception of that “bad” tetanus 5 years’ ago, there’s been no harm done…and I’ve avoided deadly diseases. I am certainly not telling anyone not to get the vaccine once it is available.

However, for all of the people who get in someone’s face and start ranting and raving, and even threatening someone, for not getting a vaccine–whatever that vaccine may be, or their reasons for not getting it–please stop and put yourself in their shoes for a moment. If you’re reading this, please consider that maybe this person has had a similar reaction as the one I shared here today and they fear more for their life with the vaccine than without it. Maybe they’re not being selfish at all.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Stay tuned…

Lisa Burbank

…our regularly scheduled program will be back as soon as I’ve finished my final exam this week! =)

Stay safe, stay healthy…May God bless you & keep you!

Appreciation, Bereavement, Brothers & Sisters, Compassion, Faith, Family, Friendship, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Nostalgia, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Writing

Lamentations of the New “Normal”

Lisa Burbank

“A time to kill; A time to heal; A time to destroy; A time to rebuild.” (Ecclesiastes 3:3)

Yes, like many others, I’m growing rather tired of being home 24/7…despite being pretty much a home-body even during “normal” times. I know it’s more important than ever that we do continue to observe the quarantine imposed by state governments so that we do not wind up with another Swine Flu of 1917/18. Though many areas of the country are reporting the curve being flattened, there’s still a great risk of it spiking again. And, as someone who would be considered a “risk” (asthma), it is a concern.

But it’s not easy.

I feel like life is on hold again. It reminds me way too much of the Great Recession of 2008 when we all waited with baited breath to see what would happen next, cringing every time the boss walked out of his/her office, lest, he/she be handing out pink slips, and feeling the heartache growing every time a new tent “city” cropped up in another park, under another overpass, behind another church.

Yeah, I’m feeling pretty good right now (insert sarcasm here).

Is it me? Or does everyone else feel extra tired, maybe a little numb…or dumb?

I’ve had way too much screen time…and not of the productive kind. Though I’ve done some brainstorming as regards my novel, I’ve done very little work on it and may undo many of the changes I recently made to it. My homework assignments have all gone in late and without the usual level of interest I typically feel for them. I have the perfect opportunity to get some projects done and I’m glued to the news, social media, and endless games of Solitaire. The road to hell is paved with good intentions but the eternal procrastinator needs a good, swift kick in the you-know-what.

Yes, I know…complain, complain, complain (chuckle). I guess I needed to get that little rant out. I’m my own worst enemy at times and I’ve been a slug for the last few days: no energy, no interest in anything, just mindless distractions.

It doesn’t help that I lost an aunt this week, presumably to Covid-19. Sadly, because there aren’t enough tests, anyone who passes due to an upper-respiratory complaint is considered to have had Covid-19. Whether she really did or not, we’ll probably never know. And, sadder still, we cannot pay our last respects. It would require a gathering of more than 10 people.

We will get through this.

And, when we do, if you’re like me, you have so many “dates” with friends, family members, etc. that life will be one big party to make up for this dull, lethargic state for a very long time.

I talked to a friend on the phone today. It was an actual conversation, not just a text or a posting on social media. It broke the sluggish “spell” I’ve been under…and has made me appreciate that I have at least had Mom here to talk to when so many others live alone and do not have this interaction. It has also made me realize the real impact this Covid-19 is having on our society. Though this quarantine is necessary to reduce the chance of spreading this virus further, depression, loneliness, anxiety are all taking their toll. So I’m making a pact with myself to pick up that phone a little more often. The sound of a loved one’s voice on the other end is one of the best medicines.

May God bless you & keep you!