Category: Culture

Abuse, Animal Rights, Animals, Christianity, Community, Culture, Diversity, Faith, Fiber Arts, God/Jesus, Herbs, History, Homesteading, Human rights, Prayer, Reading, Religion, Scripture, Straw Braiding, Tradition

A House Built on Sand

Lisa Burbank

“Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain. It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows: for so He giveth His beloved sleep.” (Psalm 127: 1-2)

Yep. The same line of Scripture referenced from yesterday’s post. I addressed the latter half of it…sort of. I mentioned being tired, longing to wind down and rest. Because I am guilty of rising early, staying up late, trying to be super-lady in control of everything, over-extending myself due to anxiety, an anxiety that says I am not enough.

Nope, I’m not.

But He is.

When I first started this blog it was with a vague idea of chronicling my journey as a homesteader. I’ve always dreamed of growing my own food. Most of what lines the grocery store shelves shouldn’t qualify as a “food”. I’m also a herbalist. Growing herbs, and mixing/making my own medicines and personal care products, is another goal. Again, what’s in our so-called medicines isn’t likely of medicinal value at all. Most of it is toxic, especially with prolonged use.

I love animals and have always wanted to rescue as many as I can adequately care for from the abuses of society. As the years have gone by, and I started working in living history, wearing natural fibers, and learning how to card and spin wool, weave, knit, and braid straw for hat-making, I started becoming more conscious of what’s also in the fabrics we wear. Where do our clothes come from? And, more importantly to my mind, what is the lot of the animals pressed into service to provide some of our clothing (as well as our food…)?

And, no, spun plastics are NOT the answer as they poison our water and our soil.

This ongoing awareness, and the skills needed to address these ills in our society, are all well and good. But they mean nothing without a solid foundation underneath them.

We’ve lost our way.

I challenge anyone reading this blog post today to read any book written before World War II. I’m not 100% sure why this seems to be a turning point, but it does. Yes, you will find long, descriptive passages…but stay with it. Start with the classics: Walden by Henry David Thoreau; Little Women by Louisa May Alcott; Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. Then pick up some lesser-known authors: Lydia Maria Child; Mary Jane Holmes; Seebohm Rowntree, etc.

Pay special attention to the vibe. What do you hear?

A solid faith in God, and the solid foundation of a culture built upon that faith. It isn’t any accident that our Declaration of Independence references a “separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them” or being “endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.” Or that our currency states: “In God We Trust.”

Yes, yes, yes…I can hear the critics now. What about separation of Church and State? Well, you’re right…to a point. The United States of America was never meant to be a theocracy. That’s why the First Amendment states that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion…” This was, believe it or not, to protect the church from being intruded upon by the state…to allow coaches to pray before each game; to allow the Muslim to spread their sajjada in public spaces; the Jewish to openly don their Tallit and the Catholic to openly finger their rosaries…and to prevent the closing of the doors of houses of worship during times of pandemic, for example.

Freedom of religion allows any person here on these shores to worship whomever they choose, whether that entity is called God, Allah, Goddess, Buddha, or the Great Spirit. Our government cannot prohibit you from worshipping the god of your consciousness.

Separation of Church and State, however, was never intended to remove all mention of a Christian God from U.S. society and culture. He is the Rock, the foundation of that society and culture.

Yes, the United States was founded on Christianity.

I’m Mohawk and Narragansett. When my ancestors walked these shores before the arrival of Europeans here, this was not the “United States.” To be honest, I’m not sure these shores even had a collective name used by each and every tribe. We were segregated by “territories” based upon hunting and gathering needs, as well as religious beliefs and traditions. The Iroquois and the Cherokee and the Comanche, for example, all populated different parts of the land that is now the U.S. In some cases, there might be overlap, and yes, we often went to war against each other…so much so that had we banded together as one nation, we might not have lost so much of our culture and traditions to those early-Europeans.

We became the “United States” after the Revolution. We became the “United States” after the drafting of a Constitution and a Declaration of Independence that openly admits to our Rights being given by a Christian God, a Christian God who taught us to love our neighbors as ourselves…so much so that our Founding Fathers allowed each and every person coming to these shores the Right to worship their God, or the god of their consciousness, without censure.

Unfortunately, and this is especially true since World War II, we’ve allowed new peoples coming to this land to abuse this right to worship whomever and however they please. The “abuse” is in allowing these new neighbors to hammer at that foundation, removing more and more mention of that Rock from our society, so that it is now reduced to merely sand.

I would like to stress here that this is NOT a call to do harm to anyone. In addition to reading books published before WWII, I also challenge anyone reading this blog post to pick up a copy of the Quran, the Bhagavad Gita, the Tibetan Book of the Dead and read. Learn about these new neighbors. We’re more alike than you may think (and, yes, I have read all of these myself…). But instead of hammering at our own beliefs, we should be welcoming any differences in our beliefs alongside of our own…not instead of. And, while you’re at it, pick up the Bible and read it, too. There’s a lot of misquoting going on in our society today. Get your information from the Source.

If the sign of His Cross offends you, how much more so does your insistence of its removal from our public life offend the sensibilities of the people you chose to move in next to? Would you allow me to erect that Cross in your public square…and, more importantly, remove the symbols of your faith that are such an inherent part of your identity?

What does all of this have to do with homesteading?

Everything.

Homesteading is a return to freedom: the freedom to think, worship, act, grow and create for ourselves…as well as a freedom from the toxins that destroy everything that we hold dear. It is a return to using the tools and unalienable rights endowed by our Creator. Homesteading is a form of worship in and of itself. No, it’s not a church service. But prayer, and a faith in Someone greater than ourselves, goes into the making of that homestead as surely as the proverbial blood, sweat, and tears.

We can’t go back, but we can learn from our history. It’s being repeated. The First Nations’ peoples who first populated this land gave up much as they graciously allowed others to move in…and then couldn’t prevent the take over. Again, not a call to arms, but a call to stand firm upon that Rock. This is who we are. This is how we came to be. If we forget that, if we erase the sacrifices of those who came before us, then the United States is no more.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Christianity, Culture, Faith, God/Jesus, History, Holidays, Religion, Scripture, Tradition, Yoga & Fitness

December 25th

Lisa Burbank

“Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign: behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” (Isaiah 7:14)

My Puritan ancestors did not celebrate Christmas. The Puritans took much of Scripture, if not all of it, literally. And, as there’s no actual date for the birth of Christ in the Bible, December 25th was business as usual in New England until around 1850 when Prince Albert gifted Queen Victoria with a fully-decorated Christmas tree. That fashionable trend, along with the influx of immigrants from Italy, Ireland and various other countries that followed closely the Church of Rome (Catholicism), paved the way for the religious observance of December 25th that Chrisitians, and even non-Christians, celebrate as Jesus’ birthday each year in the U.S.

Yes, it’s true that Constantine “borrowed”, “hijacked”, or however you wish to term it, certain Yule-tide practices from what we now call pagan religions. Back then, “pagan” was simply a term for a country dweller (farmer), who followed the seasons, and paid homage to the god of his or her consciousness for successful crops, and good health through the long winter ahead for family, friends and even livestock. But it’s also true that early scholars have studied Scripture and other religious documents closely…enough that they have a fair approximation of when Christ was born.

Yule, from which many “yuletide” celebrations have stemmed, is celebrated on December 21st. Kwanzaa is celebrated December 26th through January 1st. And, this year, Hanukkah is celebrated December 25th through January 2nd. Hanukkah’s dates change each year though. The celebration of Christmas does not. It is always December 25th.

In short, He is the reason that Christians celebrate December 25th. So, I will say, “Merry Christmas!” to you in passing. Not in effort to be an insensitive clod, but because this is my faith. This is what I believe. Because I am celebrating this sacred time and I want to wish you well during this season…and throughout the whole year.

If you correct me with an admonition that I should say, “Happy Holidays!” so as not to offend somebody else, guess what? For many Christians, that is offensive. Should I start correcting you in your religious practices?

That being said, I often do say “Happy Holidays!”, especially if I don’t know what you believe. Context often plays a role here. If I know you’re Jewish, I will wish you a Happy Hanukkah! If Wiccan, or today’s Paganism, I will wish you a Happy Yule! But, if I do greet you with a “Merry Christmas!”, perhaps reconsider that I’m baiting you in some way, or lavishing an insult. “Merry Christmas” means I wish you peace, joy, and love. That should not be an insult to anyone…and no conversion necessary to accept my humble blessing of peace, joy and love with grace. A simple “Merry Christmas to you, too!” will do. (Sort of like intoning “Namaste” to each other after a yoga practice…)

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Community, Compassion, Culture, Family, Finances, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, History, Human rights, Nostalgia, Politics, Poverty, Scripture, Self-esteem

Seeking Humility

Lisa Burbank

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14)

Oh, it’s so easy to get caught up in the political propaganda machine! Yes, there was a political post two weeks’ ago before the election. I tried to stay middle of the road, but in my most honest moments, I did stray further to the right than the left in my commentary. These days my more conservative side is shining through over that part of me that is often liberal.

But this is neither here nor there.

The true test of my mettle has been since election night. I’ve wanted to cheer and do a happy dance (yes, me, the never-Trumper). But that’s the equivalent of rubbing salt in a wound for those whose candidate did not win. So I’ve contented myself with a simple: “Congratulations, Mr. Trump & Mr. Vance! God bless America!” on social media. Neither of these men are likely to see it, and even if they do, I’m a faceless name in a sea of posts, but I didn’t want to gloat.

Okay. Yes, I did. But, again, I chose to listen to the guy with the halo on my shoulder rather than the one with the pitchfork this time.

To make sure the point got driven home, He chose last week to cut off my wi-fi. Two rapid changes in wi-fi providers meant a billing statement got lost in the shuffle. Thankfully, it was a relatively easy fix, but it made me think about all of the people in this country for whom this wouldn’t be an easy fix.

Since last Tuesday, I’ve read a lot of posts decrying that far too many Americans chose money over morals. It’s an ugly suggestion that smacks at the biblical admonishment about the love of money being the root of all evil. Love of money is more like the character of Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ classic, A Christmas Carol: it’s where you love the coins piling up more than the good you could do with that money and piling it up becomes your only aim. It’s also where you put the earning of money before time spent with family making memories, where we value the bigger, fancier house and car, and dream vacations, over what should matter more: faith, family, friends.

That’s not what people voted for.

We live in a cash society. It’s something I lament nearly every day of my life. My years in living history taught me how much more freedom our ancestors had when they could bring a pail of old rags into a country store, have them weighed up, and receive so much credit in the store for them. (This is an example; there were many more commodities that could be bartered for what we needed) The shopkeeper would then take those rags, plus the rags delivered by other patrons, to the paper manufacturers and trade them for reams of paper to stock in his store. Very little coin was ever exchanged, but each had what they needed to survive (we manufactured paper out of cloth until 1954; many older readers might remember the rag man coming to call…). Community seemed to have a much deeper meaning then.

But that’s not the world we live in today. The first, and each subsequent, industrial revolution changed all of that. As mass-produced goods became more readily available, we chose convenience over quality…both in goods, and in life, but don’t get me started down that rabbit hole!

We live in a cash society. If we want to feed our families, instead of working our own farm and growing and/or raising our own food, most work a 9-to-5, receive a paycheck, and then go to the grocery store for our sustenance (I also won’t go down the rabbit hole about the “food” lining the aisles of that store…). We have to pay a mortgage, or rent, each month for shelter. We pay for our heating and lighting sources, and every other “extra” in our lives.

It wasn’t love of money that gave us the election results. It was the necessity of having enough money in this cash society, or of making our dollars stretch far enough in it, that we don’t go hungry…or find ourselves at risk of eviction, or foreclosure. As I was just recently hovering over the latter, I take exception to those who suggest we chose money over morals.

Our economy is tanked. GDP and unemployment numbers, as my fellow Democrats, shouted loudly and proudly during Trump’s last tenure, are NOT a true measure of how our economy is doing. The Democrats may have changed their tune in the last few years, but it doesn’t make that statement any less true. The numbers may look good on paper, per se, but if those numbers are not reflected in an improved quality of life for we the people, yes, we’re going to vote for the person promising cheaper energy, lower taxes and interest rates, better jobs, and the overall improvement of our lives as a result.

Like so many of my fellow Americans, despite being once again right-side-up on my mortgage payments–something I feel immeasurable gratitude for each and every day–I’m still robbing Peter to pay Paul.

My mishap with the internet was a result of being waylaid at Walmart by representatives from Frontier to switch to their service, then being somewhat unsatisfied with Frontier’s service, and when I called Spectrum to cancel my service with them, being offered a better deal, one that amortized my wi-fi and cellphone services into one bill that basically wiped out the cellphone service I had with T-Mobile. Hey, a savings of $90 a month (two phones) is nothing to sneeze at.

We were humbled further this month when Mom’s bank account was hacked, costing her most of her social security check.

Then the mortgage company sold my mortgage to another bank. There was an inspection fee that got added to my payment this month, another $300. (Yeah, I’m hearing the echo of Andrew Yang and Bernie Sanders both lamenting how “millions of Americans cannot afford an unexpected debt of $300…”)

It’s been a rough month. And I was humbled by another visit to the local food pantry.

It was there that true humility rippled through me. First, I was mortified to stand there again (pride goeth…). Then I saw some of my patrons to the library standing in line. Holy crap!

So many social media posts from fellow Democrats point the finger at those standing in that line as having brought their circumstances upon themselves, usually in the form of “they don’t take advantage of the opportunities they’ve been given” or “they don’t want to work”. These are the same people who attacked their Republican neighbors between 2017-2020 for pointing the same fingers. I was doing the same thing: judging others unfavorably, making assumptions that had no real grounds at all.

I was even judging myself unfavorably…how quickly we forget!

Maybe I’m not showing true humility to point out the hypocrisy of others here, especially when I share in it, but it saddens me because this shaming of those who are in need is a societal tumor. I hesitated to reach for help because of it. How many more suffer in silence, too far beaten down, afraid and ashamed to reach out to a society that judges them so unfairly?

I stand guilty as charged.

Still, and maybe it’s because I have been on both sides of this societal tumor, in my heart, I feel there is a need to call it out. There is a need to humble myself first and foremost, and to shine a light on the hypocrisy of others…and the division it causes. Will it make a difference? If it does so only in the heart of one single individual, then I’ve achieved my goal.

He reminded me of where I was just a year ago.

You see, as I stood in that line, I knew the circumstances of some of these people. I saw them everyday at work. I have talked with them. And, in my heart, I have loved them as friends and acquaintances. I know about the woman whose husband collapsed on the porch and has to have surgery. I know the man in the wheelchair, the one who was homeless until an accident took his ability to walk. I know that young mother trying to raise her children alone.

How would they handle an additional $300 this month for their shelter? How would they survive if their bank account was hacked? Most of them probably don’t even have internet or wi-fi at home. Many of those faces visit the library to use ours.

Suddenly, I felt blessed. I have so much. Yes, there is still want. There are still some needs in my life not being met. There is still a struggle going on, but I feel blessed…because the stories of my neighbors are also my story. They’re not stories of some defect of character, as those pointing the finger suggest, but the stories of a nation gone sadly awry and in need of a helping hand as much as each individual in that line. Incidentally, that line was wrapped around the building where we congregated…a 12,000 square foot building in a community of less than 9000 souls.

So, no, we didn’t vote for money over morals. Quite the opposite. We voted to help our fellow Americans, our neighbors and friends, find the means to pick themselves up by those proverbial bootstraps and the dignity that comes with earning one’s way in the world. We voted, too, for that sense of community that helps to lift those up whose circumstances won’t allow them to pick themselves up without a little help. Needing help shouldn’t be something that leaves our neighbors so ashamed that they don’t reach out for that help. It should be something that leaves those of us more fortunate ashamed for judging those who need a little–or even a lot–of help.

Because we’re all one family…God’s family. And when just one of us hurts, we all hurt. We voted to stop the hurting.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Compassion, Culture, Nostalgia, Politics, Scripture

Embracing My Luddite

Lisa Burbank

“Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.” (1 John 4:20)

Yeah, being a called a Luddite by a friend got under my skin a little bit…mainly, because it’s true.

Yes, I am sitting here typing away on modern technology. There are plans to leverage more technology in the form of a YouTube channel, and possible podcast. And I don’t have any fantasies about destroying Microsoft’s main database the way the original Luddites destroyed the first mechanized textile mills in England, so I don’t quite fit the mold.

However, I do dream of living as close to the 1830s as humanly possible in this modern age. As long as I can pump clean water out of a well somewhere, I can be happy.

I was raised Catholic and continue to be a practicing one. Our doctrine isn’t quite in line with our Amish neighbors, but I can totally understand–and get behind–their aversion to electricity. It really does create idols…and a weakening of the flesh as we grow dependent upon these gadgets of “convenience”.

Worse, in some cases, we start behaving as if we’re gods trying to decide and control the choices for others.

I’ve been the keyboard warrior. When you can’t see the faces of your loved ones on the other side of the screen, it’s easy to forget that you’re talking to a person…with a heart and a mind and all of the human struggles that go along with it. I try to stay cognizant of this but, as I’ve written many times before, I sometimes fail.

Especially when former political party mates start circling my social media posts like sharks coming in for blood.

I will be glad when this election cycle is over. Sad to think that this is the new measure of what should be an exciting and empowering time for all of us. There’s always been mudslinging in politics, but it’s really gotten out of hand.

And, amazingly, both parties are accusing each other of becoming authoritarian…let that one sink in!

There are NO aspiring Hitlers running for president nor does she look like a camel. Instead, we have a father and a grandfather who has had the integrity to start his children in the lowest jobs on the construction site so they can understand and appreciate their privilege, as well as the struggles of those without that privilege, before he hands over the responsibility of the whole. And, while Kamala Camel might be a cute name for a picture book character, it’s beneath us all to attack a person on their appearance (yes, I know he’s been orange man…), or even their personality. Sometimes a veneer of ditziness masks a brilliant mind…as does crude speech. Attack their policies, if you disagree with them. Attack their record as either a former president, or as a former DA, AG and VP. But get rid of the personal attacks. There’s a person on the other side of that screen.

What are their policies? Is it realistic to expect they can deliver on their promises? How will those policies play out in the long run? Will they solve the problems the average American faces?

Because that’s where it counts. That’s where we will all feel the impact of both their failures and their triumphs.

I was Yang gang the last time around. A Berniecrat as second choice. Like Bernie Sanders when he accepted the moniker of “socialist”, as he has often been accused for his proposed policies to help the poor, I am accepting my Luddite title.

In this case, it’s owing to the mess that modern technology is making of our election process. We should go back to paper ballots; technology can too easily be tampered with…without leaving a trace.

We should also go back to the old adage of NOT discussing politics or religion in polite company. Not only is there another person on the other side of the screen, but we’re inviting them to sit down at the table with us for tea every time we engage on social media.

Would you treat them the same way over a cuppa?

May God bless you & keep you!

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

The Comfort of Fire

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Living in an Amish Paradise?

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t.

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

Ugh! It’s all happening at once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who knew?

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Bereavement, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Climate Change, Community, Cooking, Culture, Emergency Preparedness, Faith, Family, Fashion, Fiber Arts, Fleece, Frugality, gardening, God/Jesus, Healing, Herbs, History, Homesteading, Human rights, Humanity First, Introvert, Minimalism, Nature, Politics, Prepping, Wool, YouTube

The Call to Homestead

Lisa Burbank

“I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” (Psalm 4:8)

The need to become more self-sufficient has moved from yearning to this almost panic-filled need. We’re running out of time. Both economic depression and the threat of nuclear war loom, and our leaders fly off to Davos to plot how to take everything away from the average working class citizen. There have been countless headlines quoting Mr. Schwab as saying we will own nothing and we will be happy about it. I’m probably paraphrasing a bit but, the overall gist is there. Yes, I can play devil’s advocate here a moment and say, sure, maybe it’s propaganda, a conspiracy theory. But, what if it isn’t? What if the goal really is a 15 minute city where we will own nothing for ourselves?

Would we be happier without ownership?

First of all, as a Christian, anything I own I do so by the grace of God. What I have truly belongs to Him. Would I be happier having those gifts taken away?

Despite the new position at the library, I’m still staring foreclosure in the face. It’s a lengthy and stressful process and there’s no guarantee that I will be successful in my endeavors. One could argue that, if I wasn’t a homeowner, this stress would not exist. I wouldn’t be fretting about losing everything that I have worked for in my life up to this point. And that is true. There’s also the multitude of repairs that fall on my shoulders as homeowner…repairs that have gotten out of hand in recent years. There’s the zoning issue still hovering over me like a black cloud. In short, the more you have, the more you stand to lose.

But, let’s spin this around a bit.

If we don’t own anything, what is the point of working, of setting goals? Whether we own a house, a car, etc. doesn’t change the fact that we still have to have food to eat. That is also true. But isn’t the purchasing of food a form of ownership? If you don’t own the place where you live, it is likely your landlord will not allow you to put in a garden. You won’t be able to raise livestock for eggs, for dairy, for meat…if you eat such things. I was a vegetarian for over 20 years. I know one can survive without consuming animal flesh. However, the loss of certain B vitamins, especially B-12, wreaks havoc with your nervous system. Stress, anxiety, depression often stem from a lack of these vitamins. And supplements are expensive. The purchase of such is also a form of ownership.

Now let’s go back to the garden. You can’t have one. You don’t own the land upon which your leased/rented home sits. What if you truly enjoy gardening? And what if you’re an introvert, like me, and the thought of a community garden makes you feel physically ill at times? If it’s not YOUR garden alone, you may be limited by what you can plant there. If you’re a herbalist like me, growing purely medicinal plants would likely be prohibited. Big Pharma doesn’t like competition, or a loss of control. So you don’t own the land. You can’t garden, which brings you joy. You can’t grow the types of food you enjoy eating. You can’t grow and make your own medicines, or even health and beauty aids. You’ll have to buy from big box stores, or online retailers. What’s in that food? That medicine? That skincare supplement?

Okay. You’re not a gardener. Maybe you like swimming in a pool, hosting backyard barbecues. Guess what? You can’t do that either. It’s not your land. And the people at Davos, who fly around in their private jets, just decreed that barbecues are environmentally unfriendly. The smoke produces too much CO2. As do cows. No steak. No hamburgers. No cheese to melt over that petrie dish substitute.

What if you’re not an outdoors kind of person at all? You don’t own your home. The landlord doesn’t allow pets. He/she doesn’t want you painting the walls. Your place isn’t big enough for a workshop to build things, like furniture. And your kitchen only consists of a microwave and a single induction burner. Baking, canning what you grew at the community garden, or cooking healthy meals is next to impossible (microwaves destroy all of the wholesome goodness in the food cooked in them). You can’t knit. Raising livestock is outlawed (that CO2 thing again) so no wool, angora, or mohair to work with. Acrylics will disappear, too, since we’re no longer drilling for oil.

Maybe you like taking the occasional long drive in the country. Yes, improvements in batteries for electric vehicles (EV) are happening all the time these days. But at what cost to the environment? No, oil and gasoline are not infinite resources. Neither are cadmium or nickel, or any other precious metal. Yes, drilling for oil does tremendous harm to the environment. But so does mining for these metals. Like coal, mountains are dug out, and run-off from the mining pollutes the soil and water. However, to get back on subject, you want to take that drive. But you don’t own a vehicle–EV or otherwise–and the EVs left at the community garage are all in use today. Sorry.

Does this sound like a happy existence?

If we own nothing, we also cease to own our joy. By owning nothing, we give up our right to choose for ourselves. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want some wrinkled up prune in Davos telling me I can’t pick a few dandelion leaves to feed to my rabbits, or even a salad for myself. I don’t want anyone telling me I can’t take a road trip someday to visit my brother in Tennessee because he’s outside of my 15 minute zone. I don’t want to eat synthetic, processed foods, or wear plastic clothing. I want the freedom to make truly healthy choices for me, my family, my pets, and my community.

I also don’t want to be at the mercy of the “system”. What happened in 2020 will last in my memory forever. The walk into the grocery store and seeing aisles of completely empty shelves. Companies, stores, libraries completely shutdown. Places of worship closed until further notice. Loved ones denied the right to say a proper “goodbye” to those they lost. The loss of employment for so many because they refused to become human guinea pigs in their real-world experiments. And now, watching so many young people–healthy, young athletes–dropping after accepting a jab to the arm as part of that experiment.

The less dependent on that “system” we are, the less that fabricated shortages, shutdowns, and experiments will hurt us. Even a window box will produce some food and reduce some of that dependence. It may not be enough to sustain you completely, but start there. Learn how to can food and pick up produce at a farmer’s market. Or even on sale at the grocery store. Learn how to make pet food from scratch. If you can, invest in a chest freezer. Find someone in your community who knows how to find and identify wild edibles. Visit your local library and check out books on the Great Depression. Or comb YouTube for videos on the same. What did our ancestors do to make it through? There is a sense of pride that comes with being able to make your own way in the world, in being able to cook from scratch, grow a few tomatoes and herbs in a pot, split wood for a fire in a stove.

There is a sense of pride in owning a home, too. Yes, you can become a slave to that ownership, especially during hard times. And there’s no denying the cost. Not everyone can afford homeownership and that is the real tragedy in our society today. Houses have gotten progressively bigger and more expensive. At the risk of sounding like one of those conspiracy theorists, perhaps that’s part of the plan from some of our leaders. But the freedom to live as one chooses is worth the fight.

Even Jesus gives us the right to choose.

May God bless you & keep you!

Brothers & Sisters, Culture, Folklore, Gratitude, Herbs, Holidays, Tradition, YouTube

Celebrating January 6th

Lisa Burbank

“Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, ‘Dear woman, here is your son,’ and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”

Relax.

Breathe.

It’s not what you think.

Dare I say, “Gotcha!”? I could hear the hackles rising as your eyes skimmed the headline. No, I am not celebrating an attempt to stop the election process here in the U.S., nor the chants calling for the lynching of our then-sitting vice-president. Regardless of who you believe is at fault for that fateful day, January 6th has gotten far too much attention already. Let’s leave it for the talking heads in mainstream media. It’s time to move on.

Instead of January 6th having such a negative association, let’s inject it with some positivity. I recently learned that in Ireland January 6th is Women’s Christmas. It is a time when mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters are honored with a day of rest and special pampering from fathers, brothers, husbands, and sons. Contrary to popular belief, most menfolk really do appreciate the gifts and sacrifices the women in their lives make. And, in a world where women are rapidly losing the awards and opportunities they’ve worked so hard to compete for, making January 6th a celebration of women worldwide would be a win-win for us all.

But don’t take my word for it.

If you would like to learn more about this lovely, but little-known tradition from Ireland, click on the video below. If you enjoy it, hit the “Like” button. Or, better yet, hit the bell to subscribe for more great videos about herbs, nature, spirituality, Celtic folklore, and traditions. I have been following Terri Conroy of Danu’s Irish Herb Garden for almost two years’ now. She’s a wealth of information and I look forward to her videos every week; I hope you will, too.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Community, Compassion, Culture, Family, Friendship, Human rights, Prayer, Scripture

Bright Blessings for Brooklyn Farm, Pet & Hardware

Lisa Burbank

“Do not go about spreading slander among your people. Do not do anything that endangers your neighbor’s life. I am the Lord.” (Leviticus 19:15-16)

I don’t think I’ve ever given a plug for a local business before; I try to maintain a certain level of anonymity as to where I am located…safety reasons only. However, I am heartsick over what is happening to some neighbors of mine.

I went on Facebook yesterday to wish all the friends with birthdays this week happy ones. One has a very harsh review of a local business: Brooklyn Farm, Pet, & Hardware (BFP&H). This review had nothing to do with the service they received, or the products they purchased, or some rude manners from staff. It had everything to do with their political views. Seriously? I then decided I would go to BFP&H’s Facebook page and post something positive, a “thank you” for their service, a Merry Christmas, etc.

Their Facebook page has been hacked. There is now a picture of a blond woman and, underneath her photograph, it says this business is now closed…permanently. It also lists the business as being in Oklahoma??!?

Seeds of hate sown for something as petty as a difference of OPINION. That’s all.

I am heartsick for my friends at BFP&H, for the harm to their business, their livelihood, the attempts to discredit them.

These are the people I know from BFP&H:

First of all, I don’t know of too many businesses today that are full service. 50 lb. sacks of feed, bales of hay, etc. are carried out by staff and loaded into your vehicle. Staff is always polite and cheerful. The property is always clean and inviting.

When I fractured my shoulder almost 4 years’ ago, while they do not have a regular delivery service, per se, hay and feed was delivered to my doorstep. They even stacked the hay in my garage so it was easier for me to get to. I didn’t ask. It was simply offered.

Just before C-19 lockdowns, I had gone shopping and stocked up, as much as I could, on feed and hay so I could shelter in place. When Beth didn’t see me for a few days (I tend to visit every 4 days or so, about how long a bale of hay lasts for me), she actually stopped by the house to make sure I was okay, that I wasn’t sick or in need. Who does that anymore?

Brooklyn Farm, Pet, & Hardware does! They have been a pillar in this community and I find it appalling that anyone would be so cruel as to give poor reviews of their business, or hack into their accounts, in an attempt to destroy them over some political ideology. And I’m sure this isn’t an isolated incident.

What have we become as a nation? As a people? Many of the “essential superheroes” were later fired for refusing a certain medicine. No thought as to why this might be. Perhaps, like me, they’ve had adverse reactions to jabs before and chose not to…sanctioned by their primary care physician. Maybe they looked at friends and family, and the rate of failure to protect them from infection, despite multiple applications. Maybe it’s none of our business and we should respect folks’ right to choose what seems best for themselves. Fear mongering has brought out the worst of the control freaks in our society. Disagree with them and they’ll wreck your business, bring your family to ruin. Haven’t enough Main St. businesses been ruined by foolish lockdowns and an over-inflated economy? We’re on the brink of a recession, at the very least. Must we bring down those who are still treading water for our own selfish sense of entitlement?

“My way or the highway” cannot be the mantra anymore in our society. Loving one’s neighbor as ourselves needs to be sung from every proverbial mountaintop…and there’s a parallel in nearly every religion: “Surely the believers are none but brothers unto one another, so set things right between your brothers, and have fear of Allah that you may be shown mercy” (49:10 (Quran)); “This is the sum of duty: do naught unto others which would cause pain unto you” –The Hindu Mahabharata 5, 1517. “It harm none, do as ye will” Wicca. In the Torah, the first five books of the Hebrew Bible, it is “Love thy neighbor as thyself” (Leviticus 19:18).

Is the need to be right worth shattering your brothers and sisters?

I pray that whoever is doing this evil thing will have a change of conscience, that they will take as many steps as possible to bolster those around them…instead of tearing them down. You have the right to disagree, to voice that opinion. You have the right to cease patronage to an establishment for that difference of opinion. But, to seek harm against that establishment, to harm others…no, you do not have that right.

I pray that any harm done to my friends at BFP&H is amended, that their business is strengthened and can recover from this assault. I pray that their Facebook page is restored and that neighbors can again find them and support them on social media.

And I pray this for every single entity that has been similarly maligned.

May God bless you & keep you!

Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Culture, Diversity, Faith, Family, God/Jesus, Lent, Open-mindedness, Prayer, Religion, Understanding

Ramadan Mubarak

Lisa Burbank

To all who celebrate Ramadan, bright blessings to you!

To all who do not and are unfamiliar with Muslim traditions, today marks the start of Ramadan. According to Wikipedia, Ramadan is when the “beginnings of what would later become the Qur’an” were revealed to the prophet, Muhammad, by the angel, Jibril (or Gabriel in English).

Muslims everywhere arose today before dawn to eat suhur (predawn meal) and will fast from food or drink until after sunset when they will break their fast with iftar. They will also abstain from tobacco products, sinful behavior, and, again, according to Wikipedia (not always the most reliable source but usually a good starting point), remain celibate during this time. They will do this every day for the next month. In addition to fasting, Ramadan is commemorated with prayer, reflection, the reciting and reading of the Qur’an, and almsgiving. Ramadan begins with the sighting of the crescent moon and ends with the sighting of the next crescent moon.

I am always amazed at the level of devotion and commitment Muslims show in their celebration of Ramadan. As a Catholic, I celebrate Lent, which also requires prayer, fasting–albeit only on Fridays when we abstain from meat, and Ash Wednesday and Good Friday when we can only eat one full meal throughout the day–and reflection. However, I often fail miserably. Is it a lack of discipline in myself? Or is it a lack of community support? Maybe it’s a little of both. But, whatever it is, I can’t imagine the dedication needed to fast from sunrise until sunset.

That being said, I offer up my prayers to those celebrating Ramadan that Allah’s blessings be many this year.

And, for all of my brothers and sisters of every religion and walk of life, may God bless you & keep you!

Works Cited

“Ramadan”. Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramadan