Category: Culture

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YouTube Junkie

Lisa Burbank

“We toss the coin, but it is the Lord who controls its decision.” (Proverbs 16:33)

Who would have thought that life could change so much in the blink of an eye. I know that sounds like a cliche; it is. I’m not sure what I would have–could have–done differently. I fell while going out to shovel the driveway in anticipation of work the next day. Sure, I could see the ice coating the driveway but, in order to shovel myself out, I had to navigate over it.

Now I’m laid up.

Yesterday I was wallowing in self-pity. The mortgage is behind. I’ve been knocking on every housing assistance door in Connecticut. Mom & I have visited a couple of local food pantries to get by until I’m back to work. I put up a Go Fund Me campaign to see if I can generate help with the bills/mortgage that way. And I am grateful to the friends who have been generous in their support; it is appreciated far more than you can ever imagine. I’m still looking at a hefty mortgage payment in three days that I don’t have adequate funds to pay.

But I’m taking it on faith. Either He will provide the means in time. Or He won’t…because maybe He’s forcing me into a decision I haven’t quite been able to make. I’ve spent the better part of 9 years’ oscillating between selling out and relocating (which might just mean closer to my work in Massachusetts) or finding another part-time income to help supplement…provided I can get back to work next month. My medical leave has been extended another month until the third week of March. Of course, part of that oscillation has been the very honest two years of unemployment, followed by 6 years of underemployment. It’s only been a little over a year that I finally found a full-time position. So, in short, the financial means to relocate hasn’t been here…anymore than the means of providing the most basic cost of living. I was still playing “catch-up” when my accident happened.

Okay…so some of that wallowing factor is still happening here…

And yet, it’s not crippling me completely. I’ve spent the better part of the afternoon knocking on those doors I mentioned earlier, filling out applications, etc. to see if there’s something to help preserve this would-be homestead…either here, or in a new location. We have to allow for processing time though. So…

…in the meantime…

When I’m not writing, working on my novel, I’ve become a bit of a YouTube junkie. Having my left arm in a brace means my activity levels are pretty low. Where my days’ off, especially in winter when farm activities are pretty minimal anyway (outside of feeding), used to be spent watching gardening shows on YouTube (Jon Kohler’s Growing Your Greens: BBC2 Gardener’s World with Monty Don; Charles Dowding’s No-Dig Gardening), now I’m expanding. Roots and Refuge Homestead. Off Grid with Doug and Stacy. The Urban Farmer with Curtis Stone. Living Big in a Tiny House. Tiny House Living. I’ve watched videos on raising angora rabbits, angora goats, silkworms, and training border collies to herd the sheep I don’t have land enough to raise.

Yet…

In addition, Mom & I have had a lot of laughs watching Late Night with Stephen Colbert and The Daily Show with Trevor Noah. And ooh-ing and aah-ing over agility competitions where, most of the time, the border collies rock! I’ve watched interviews with old “idols”: Kevin Von Erich (pro-wrestler); Rik Emmett (frontman, Triumph); Jane Seymour. The latter happened to be a walk-through with her researching what became of two of her aunts during The Holocaust; it was actually quite interesting. And she gave a bit of advice in one interview about how her mother always taught her that when you’re down and have nothing to give, you give more. I’m paraphrasing but, in essence, her mother was big on giving back, of giving help to someone else in need. By doing so, you open the door to resolving your own problems. That one’s been taken to heart quite a bit. I’m looking for ways that I can do just that.

Lastly, I’m feeling like a kid watching MTV again. Music videos. This weekend it was some 80’s, early-90’s music that I haven’t heard in a long time: Powerstation; Platinum Blonde; Andy Taylor; Triumph; April Wine; Concrete Blonde, etc.

Of course, the nostalgia conjured up by this music does sort of feed the wallowing factor a bit. I remember my dreams back then and how I gave up on them. I have no desire to give up on the current ones. Ironically, in remembering, it also feeds my determination to hold on to the current dreams; I’m not getting any younger.

Maybe in a month’s time that first draft…well…let’s not jinx it by giving voice to it.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS I would be so grateful if you would share my Go Fund Me link with your friends, family, acquaintances and readers. https://www.gofundme.com/9fymzf-medical-leave?utm_source=internal&utm_medium=email&utm_content=campaign_link_t&utm_campaign=welcome

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One Day At A Time

Lisa Burbank

“He will keep in perfect peace all those who trust in Him, whose thoughts turn often to the Lord! Trust in the Lord God always, for in the Lord Jehovah is your everlasting strength.” (Isaiah 26:3,4)

I’m holding onto these words of encouragement. As I navigate through this forced convalesce, and watch the bills pile up, and receive letters from the new mortgage company threatening foreclosure, and the bank account getting smaller, the above passage from Scripture reminds me that He really is in control…and my faith tells me He has a plan.

Even if I can’t see it.

I’ve been on the fence about whether to sell and find land/farm in another location, somewhere a little more manageable from a financial standpoint, but also more acreage, less house. The logical, human side of my brain says, if I do default, what are my chances of being able to purchase again? I need to keep up on everything to build my credit score up. Yes, I can see that dream farm somewhere in upper-state New York, or Maine. But my “day” job is in Massachusetts. Logic is saying it’s all beyond my reach. That I need to really push back, commit to staying. And trust that He’ll get me over this rapidly-growing bump in the road.

My faith says to trust in Him…regardless of the outcome. Though it all looks impossible, nothing is impossible with God. He is not bound by human rules of equity and credit scores. And, if the opposite is His will for me, then He’ll provide whatever I need to make the next mortgage payment, car payment, etc.

He’s teaching me patience…I say this while I rail and chafe against both my limited mobility–and my limited cash flow.

More importantly, He’s teaching me to truly put my trust in Him. I have too much of a grasping nature, holding on too tightly to what I have. In short, He’s teaching me to let go.

Can I do it? This one’s a tough one. I don’t like not being in control (as if!)…or at least feeling as if I’m in control.

So, I take a deep breath…

And wait…

And fret…as only I know how to do.

And keep reminding myself that, even if I can’t see the outcome at all, He’s got this. And His ways are always perfect.

May God bless you & keep you!
https://www.gofundme.com/9fymzf-medical-leave&rcid=r01-15506107597-500376eb83394fe0&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_w

19th century, Christianity, Compassion, Culture, Enlightenment, Faith, Healing, Holidays, Love, Open-mindedness, Religion, Spirituality

Yes, It IS Merry Christmas…

Lisa Burbank

“And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born; and she gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped Him in a blanket and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the village inn.” (Luke 2:6-7)

In sooth, we do not know the date of Jesus’ birth. The Bible does not give a date. Not even a month to narrow it down a bit. The date of December 25th was chosen centuries ago by Rome to bring some of the pagan folks into the fold of the Church. It coincides closely with the Roman festival of Saturnalia from December 17th-23rd. For that reason, our Puritan forefathers did not keep Christmas. Nor did their Congregationalist and Baptist descendants. It was a Papist festival. And, because it tied so closely to the date of Saturnalia, they did not even acknowledge the date as anything special. Diaries and journals kept by New Englanders up until the mid-19th century recount business as usual on December 25th (Kelliher).

That being said, in other parts of the U.S., Christmas celebrations did take place. In the larger cities, like New York, Philadelphia, and even Boston, congregations of Episcopals and Catholics held Christmas services/Mass and many rural New Englanders would venture into their parishes to witness the festivities…even if they didn’t participate themselves. So New Englanders knew about Christmas. They just didn’t keep it. Not until waves of Irish Catholics, Italian Catholics, French Canadian Catholics, German and Scandinavian Lutherans, and the Dutch, who brought with them Santa Claus, arrived did we find a greater number of Christmas celebrations. This is, roughly, around 1850 or so…a whole 230 years’ after the Pilgrims first set foot on Plymouth Rock.

So, now that I, a born-again Christian, have debunked the argument for “Merry Christmas” as being part of the foundation of our country, let me go on to explain why, despite these much later traditions, December 25th is “Merry Christmas”.

First of all, while New Englanders may have been slow to embrace any Christmas remembrances, other parts of the world did celebrate it. Again, the Roman Catholic Church decreed December 25th as the birth of Christ hundreds of years’ before this country was settled. It is a holy day within the Christian community and, as such, should be respected. Our modern tendency to substitute a greeting of “Merry Christmas!” with “Happy Holidays!” is not just disrespectful, but actually hurtful to those who still keep Christmas. Of course, I can hear the inclusion/exclusion argument coming out: What about those who don’t share your/my beliefs?

What about them?

What if Hanukkah couldn’t be called Hanukkah anymore? Or Ramadan, Ramadan? What if it wasn’t a Yule log anymore but a holiday log? We can wipe away any direct reference to any holy day within any belief system with that inclusion/exclusion argument. Maybe instead of reading an offense in these direct references, we could take the time to learn about each other, our beliefs and our traditions, without feeling threatened by them. Everybody is Irish on March 17th–even if no Gaelic blood runs in your veins–and greetings of “Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” ring out along every main street in America as the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade marches by. What is it about Christmas that makes it so offensive?

Is it the name “Christ” within it?

Why?

He came to save the world. He took the sins of the world onto His shoulders and died for us. Maybe to the person reading this, that seems incredible, unbelievable. How? Because maybe that’s not what you believe, or were taught, within your community. Maybe to you, Jesus is simply a prophet but not the Son of God; I respect that view. Maybe you don’t believe in any Supreme Being at all; I respect that, too. When I wish you a “Merry Christmas!” I am not trying to convert you to my way of believing. The greeting of “Merry Christmas!” is simply a wish for peace, joy, and hope to the person being greeted with “Merry Christmas!” There is no requirement to be Christian to be wished a “Merry Christmas!” the same as everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. When I greet you with “Merry Christmas!”, I am wishing you all of the best that life has to offer. There is no offense intended.

Yet, today I, and fellow Christians, are greeted with offense, with contempt, with downright hostility for wishing someone joy, peace, hope, and even love. If I ever had any doubt that the Adversary is present in this world, it flies out the window in the face of such contempt and ridicule. It is the same sort of hate and ignorance that murdered 11 people in Pittsburgh this past October and all but annihilated the First Nations’ tribes of this country for their beliefs and traditions. In the end, we all bleed and we all hurt.

Wishing you peace, hope, joy and love sounds infinitely better.

Merry Christmas!

Works Cited

Kelliher, Tom. “Christmas by Candlelight Training Materials. Old Sturbridge Village.

19th century, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Culture, Faith, Fiber Arts, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Memories, Politics, Religion, Straw Braiding

Not So Very Different After All

Lisa Burbank

“The Angel: Hagar, Sarai’s maid, where have you come from, and where are you going? Hagar: I am running away from my mistress. The Angel: Return to your mistress and act as you should, for I will make you into a great nation. Yes, you are pregnant and your baby will be a son, and you are to name him Ishmael (God hears), because God has heard your woes. This son of yours will be a wild one–free and untamed as a wild ass! He will be against everyone, and everyone will feel the same towards him. But he will live near the rest of his kin.” (Genesis 16:8-12)

I have wanted to share this experience for some time now. I had the most amazing experience this summer, one that has left me with so much hope and peace in my heart, that it will stay with me wherever I go.

Though I took the position of horticultural/herb garden lead at a local museum in August 2017, I spent most of the growing season in one of the households, cooking and baking on the hearth, and straw braiding. I have never considered straw braiding at all but have found that I have a natural aptitude for it. I spent most of this summer also showing others how to straw braid.

For a little background on straw braiding, this skill was typically perfected by young ladies and housewives of the 1830’s. Straw hats and bonnets were the rage and the raw material–the braided rye straw and palm leaves–was in big demand. A yard of this braided material might fetch anywhere from 1 – 3 cents per yard. Once you get the hang of this straw braiding, it doesn’t take long to reach a yard of material. And, in a time period where, due to transportational challenges (no autos; even horses weren’t owned by everyone due to expense…i.e. most people walked everywhere), you may not run to the local store every day…or even every week. In the weeks in between visits, you could easily grow a fairly long braid of, say, 100-200 yards. Especially if multiple family members worked on it in between their other chores each day. That’s anywhere from $1 to $4 in a time period where a pound of wheat flour might be 5 cents. The start-up cost was also low. Many farmers in the day grew rye for the flour to make bread; the straw was a by-product and, likely, discarded if not for being put to use for the manufacture of hats and bonnets. So many families straw braided.

It was an afternoon in early summer when I had my amazing experience. It started out like any other afternoon with me in the sitting room of the house I was working in. I remember it was a fairly busy day. I had an intern with me (student worker) and we were braiding. A young mother came in with her two teenage daughters. They were obviously of Middle Eastern descent and, upon seeing what we were doing, grew very excited and asked if they could learn how to braid. So I started a braid for each of them and demonstrated the braiding technique (7 strand braid). They caught on easily and soon had a good length started. The mother later explained that they had a business making baskets that they took to different craft shows, etc. throughout the country. We spent a good amount of time with each other.

And then the amazing thing took place.

Another family, this one obviously Orthodox Jewish, also came into the room. This time a grandmother and her three teen and pre-teen granddaughters. They, too, wanted to learn. Before long, I had one Jewish, one Muslim family, and one Christian minister (moi) all working together peacefully for a common good. In this case, the very humble endeavor of braiding straw.

Who would have thought?

In our current political climate, it seems the most amazing experience. Our media, whether you’re with “fake” or “faux” news, seems bent on keeping all peoples in separate little boxes. The idea of Christians, Muslims and Jewish peoples all getting along as the brothers and sisters we are, is toted as something impossible. I can’t think of anything sadder. Or less faith-based. But I carry forever the memory of that afternoon and feel the grace of hope that, while our leaders may never be able to bring peace and security to our lands, as always, it is the common people who will pull together as one.

May God bless you & keep you!

Addiction, Christianity, Culture, Faith, Holidays, Lent, Love, Religion, Social Media, Spirituality, Writing

Lenten Re-Cap

Lisa Burbank

“The next evening, when the Sabbath ended, Mary Magdalene and Salome and Mary, the mother of James, went out and purchased embalming spices. Early the following morning, just at sunrise, they carried them out to the tomb. On the way they were discussing how they could ever roll aside the huge stone from the entrance. But when they arrived they looked up and saw that the stone–a very heavy one-was already moved away and the entrance was open! So they entered the tomb–and there on the right sat a young man clothed in white. The women were startled, but the angel said, Don’t be so surprised. Aren’t you looking for Jesus, the Nazarene, who was crucified? He isn’t here! He has come back to life! Look, that’s where his body was lying. Now go and give this message to his disciples including Peter.” (Mark 16:1-7)

I made a number of vows on Ash Wednesday (February 14th, Valentine’s Day–a serious celebration of love this year). One of them was that I would avoid social media. Amazingly, my blog posts have also been few and far between, though my blog was not targeted as “social media” when I made the vow. However, I can honestly say I did very well in keeping this vow. I peeked at one message from an aunt of mine as it was obvious it was an actual message rather than a joke or inspirational then politely reminded her that I had given up social media for Lent and she would have to contact me via phone or come visit until Easter. Otherwise, I stayed away from Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn. What blog posts I did create automatically posted to my FB account when I hit “Publish”; ditto for the Treehugger news stories I shared. Neither required me to visit my social media sites as I have them linked. However, it’s funny. I didn’t really miss them. And I didn’t really miss much on them. I value my social media accounts primarily for keeping in touch with friends and family members who live too far away to make frequent visits between us. I may opt to keep my social media usage to a minimum going forward; less time wasted getting into the political hypes–whatever they may be this week.

I gave up sweets, desserts, etc.

FAILED

Miserably.

Albeit, I did significantly cut back and, the few times I fell off the wagon, so to speak, I made a valiant effort to get back on and keep trying again. But my sweet tooth won out quite a few times. Scary to think how addictive sugar is! (My waistline can certainly testify…)

I would avoid music videos except for 2 hours in the afternoon on my days’ off. That one tanked, too. However, I will add that I stayed predominantly in contemporary Christian and used the time to recharge my spiritual batteries instead. For King and Country’s version of “The Little Drummer Boy” is, in my not-so-humble opinion, so upbeat and uplifting that I don’t care if it is a Christmas carol; it’s worth listening to–and viewing their concert video footage–any time of year. And, no, it doesn’t really justify the broken vow. I’ll simply have to do better next time.

Lastly, I vowed to write 3 pages per day of my adult fiction novel. On this one, I rocked (insert stoked ego here). I have filled two college-ruled spiral-bound notebooks (one subject, approx. 100 pages each) full of scenes for my novel + many pages of a few others. Granted, some of these scenes may never see the light of day outside of their respective notebooks, but I plowed ahead anyway. There were only three nights where I didn’t pick up the notebook to write until bedtime and, on one such occasion, fell asleep mid-stride and two others, crashed before a word was written. Otherwise, I managed to do at least three pages; some days, more. Like many other writers, I am my own worst critic but mission accomplished. And I have every intention of continuing with the momentum. I’m looking forward to the day when I can post here that the first complete draft is, well, completed.

May God bless you & keep you!

https://www.patreon.com/theherbalhare

Christianity, Compassion, Culture, Enlightenment, Faith, Gratitude, Holidays, Love, Open-mindedness, Religion, Understanding

Happy Nowruz!

Lisa Burbank

“If I had the gift of being able to speak in other languages without learning them, and could speak every language there is in all of heaven and earth, but didn’t love others, I would only be making noise. If I had the gift of prophecy and knew all about what is going to happen in the future, knew everything about everything, but didn’t love others, what good would it do? Even if I had the gift of faith so that I could speak to a mountain and make it move, I would still be worth nothing at all without love. If I gave everything I have to the poor people, and if I were burned alive for preaching the Gospel but didn’t love others, it would be of no value whatever.” (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)

It is in learning one another’s language–and culture–that we show our love for one another. It is in learning one another’s language and culture that we lose the fear and distrust that keeps us starving little people on this planet. This article appeared in The New York Times last March. An Iranian friend shared it with me then; I am sharing it with you today. I’m a day late, as usual, as Nowruz was yesterday, the first day of spring. Better late than never. It is a wonderful article, written by Iranian-American author, Firoozeh Dumas. I hope you enjoy it.

May God bless you & keep you!