“For there is hope for a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease.” (Job 14:7)
I have a short stack of books checked out on coppicing trees. A few years’ ago, I watched a YouTube video about a man who coppices the trees on his land for firewood to heat his home. It struck a chord.
When I first started with the notion of homesteading, my original plan was to move to a bigger property. But then I started watching videos, reading blogs, magazine articles and books about people homesteading right where they are, right now. And it got me thinking: what can I do here?
Originally, I thought I could tap the many maple trees in my yard for syrup and sugar…until I learned the difference in maple trees and discovered that my maple trees are mostly Norway maples, an invasive species to Connecticut that does NOT produce maple syrup.
Despite their invasiveness, the Norway maples are beautiful. So I’ve let them stay.
However, one of the reasons they’re considered invasive is because they grow fast. They also throw their seeds everywhere and it doesn’t take long for a new sapling to grow up. I have a young one growing through my fence as we speak (definitely NOT optimum). A also have a few that grew close together over the years so that they appear to share one trunk that has split in multiple directions. A friend of mine cut a couple of those splits, leaving a few feet of trunk standing. This was years ago, and I was furious at the time, but new shoots have grown up from that cut stump. I have an endless supply of firewood right at my disposal…if I learn how to manage it all correctly.
I know about as much about coppicing as I did about maple syrup. Hence, the stack of books on coppicing that I have checked out from the library. About all I do know is I will have to invest in a chainsaw and, probably, a decent ladder. (Again, I’m a complete novice…)
One of the books talks about planting willow where there’s a lot of wet, boggy land (Van Driesche 215-217). I have that, too, towards the back of the property. My ducks love it, but they’re about the only ones who do as the grass grows in thick tufts and any lawnmower gets stuck trying to cut it down (I’m also looking at learning how to use a scythe…). Willow can be debarked to make baskets. And the straight whips will also make good stakes for the garden when needed. I don’t know if I have enough boggy land for this last endeavor (although basket weaving is something I have enjoyed in the past…). It might behoove me to simply plant some water-loving herbs, like Joe Pye Weed, Black Cohosh and Solomon’s Seal (the latter doesn’t like its feet too wet…). That might be enough to mitigate the muddy mess.
But there’s hope springing in my heart as I contemplate the many potential ways I might make this little one acre holding work for me.
What are some of the possibilities you see from where you are right now? I guarantee you, if you put your mind to it, they may prove endless.
May God bless you & keep you!
Works Cited
Van Driesche, Emmet (2019). Carving Out a Living on the Land. Chelsea Green Publishing, Vermont.
“Wealth gathered hastily will dwindle, but whoever gathers little by little will increase it.” (Proverbs 13:11)
I am not fully recovered financially from the past decade or so of financial hardship, but there’s definitely an upward climb for which I am grateful. Until very recently the focus has been on simply paying down debt and earning enough to keep home and hearth together.
However, I am mindful of the journey that started in 2008. Like so many people, I was seriously impacted by the Great Recession. Despite having a 401K account, a savings (albeit a modest one), a budget, and a modest amount of debt outside of my mortgage, I still got clubbed at the knees. How much worse was the recession for people without those benefits and resources? And, just when I thought I was getting back on my feet, I got clubbed at the knees again in 2019 with an injury.
Today’s inflation bites. I don’t care what the reason for it is…well, except for the impact it may have on who I vote for in a few weeks. But, for those who are still struggling to recover from the recession (which is almost everyone), there really is an underlying amount of stress controlling our every financial decision.
So, suggesting that we learn to save, even if it’s just the change in your pocket each week in a jar, may seem like a laugh. But even change adds up.
In my case, I can’t say if it stems from growing up with alcoholism and abuse in the house or not, but I have a bad habit of waiting until the end of the month to put something away for that rainy day instead of paying myself first. I wonder if the $20-$30 that I can afford right now seems too small to make much of a difference so why bother?
Yes, it does seem that the minute you save a few bucks, the kids get sick or the pets do, the car hiccoughs in a threatening way and there goes whatever ground you feel like you’ve gained.
But what if you were saving that $20 a week/biweekly (whatever you can afford) all along? Sure, you may have only saved $100 by the time this thing reared its ugly head, but it would be $100 easier to face. $100 less of feeling victimized. And, if enough time elapsed between those hiccoughs, there would be even more to lesson that feeling.
It’s the bigger picture that I’m looking at. It’s also the whole reason I’ve turned to homesteading and prepping. What happens with the next plandemic? What happens with the next supply chain lapse? What happens if the WEF succeeds in orchestrating those 15 minute cities? If we’re not herded into them like sheep, I really do want that off-grid homestead up on a mountain somewhere. Having ready cash on hand is a way of reducing our vulnerability to whatever life hands us.
So, I’m making a vow to myself to set aside some amount each month for that rainy day. It doesn’t have to be a lot. I have to quit looking at that $20, that $10 bill, that jar of change as something pathetic, but rather hopeful. Because every little bit really does make a difference. Next paycheck that $10 becomes $20 or $20 becomes $40 and so on and so forth until we can draw a deeper breath each night before bedtime…and thank God even for the small blessings.
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” (Psalms 46:1-3)
Phew! The last three weeks have been a whirlwind of plumbers, notaries, electricians, lawyers, well-drilling technicians, and mortgage lenders…fits, starts, stops, highs and lows.
The good news is we now have safe and reliable running water again. We’ve been doing the bowl bath thing, heating the bottled water that I purchased every couple of days at Walmart and washing up that way…since November 2021 (Yes, you read that correctly!). To say that first warm shower last Wednesday felt ambrosial is an understatement. And I dare say, my infatuation with 19th century living has been tempered a bit. Had I the infrastructure of our ancestors, such as a pump at the kitchen sink, it might not have been quite so bad, but I’m not complaining. I feel like a lady of luxury these days (Thank you, Jesus…and a very special shout of “thanks” to Sir Robert the Welcome!).
Granted, we did have running cold water until April of this year. It wasn’t safe to drink but, we could at least fill kettles, pots and pans at the sink to heat for dishes and bathing so the cost to refill gallon jugs at Walmart was somewhat manageable…even if it was a pain you-know-where.
It actually feels strange not to have to stop every few days, not to have a mountain of empty jugs piled up in a box on the back seat to refill, not to have to look for an empty grocery cart nearby to haul those 15-20 empty gallon jugs into the store when I park my car. I keep thinking I’m forgetting something. Again, I’m not complaining. But what a habit to maintain out of necessity!
Thursday morning there was a moment of panic when I noted the lonely little gallon jug in the corner and I still hadn’t fed the goats, chickens, and ducks their breakfast, which always includes a refill of clean water. I barely stopped myself from berating myself for not stopping the night before for refills. The feeling of wonder when I remembered to turn on the tap and watched clear, cool water run out into their buckets must’ve been akin to what our ancestors felt when indoor plumbing was first invented.
And it’s amazing how He works. Despite all of our financial difficulties, somehow we always managed to have enough to buy in the water we needed. He always provided…even if we did rob Peter to pay Paul a few times. I’m feeling truly blessed right now.
There really isn’t any bad news, not even where mortgage lenders, attorneys and notaries are concerned. It’s just frustrating news. As mentioned in my previous post, the final date for the signing of the permanent modification paperwork got pushed out another month. It would appear the lenders are not happy with my ability to make mortgage payments. However, it’s very satisfying on this end to be able to write those checks again.
I have 9 days to go before we meet again. I spoke with my representative a couple of days’ ago and she said everything was correct this time. So, third time’s a charm, I guess, but praise God for the blessing of friends…and co-workers willing to take time out of their busy days to act as witnesses.
I’m asking for lots of prayers, good wishes, positive thoughts, etc. that Mom and I, and our little farm, can get right-side up again permanently. As always, many thanks!
Then one went out into the field to gather herbs, and found a wild vine and gathered from it his lap full of wild gourds, and came and sliced them into the pot of stew, for they did not know what they were. So they poured it out for the men to eat. And as they were eating of the stew, they cried out and said, ‘O man of God, there is death in the pot.’ And they were unable to eat.” (2 Kings 4:39-40)
No, I’m not poisoning anyone. I’ve been poisoned…by poison ivy.
I spent the three day weekend doing yardwork with a friend. As many of you know, we’ve had both intermittent running water and an intermittent electrical line. Sometimes we have lights upstairs; sometimes, not. It seems to be most prevalent when it’s windy out. So our friend, who noticed some tree limbs hitting the power line coming into the house, decided to climb up the ladder and cut the offending limbs. I held the ladder…while standing in a patch of poison ivy.
So far, it’s not too bad. Itchy, yes. But it’s staying around the calf area only…unlike a few years ago when arms, legs, and even my face got nailed with it.
So what does an herbalist do?
Most of you probably know this little beauty:
It is (Impatiens capensis) or, as it is more commonly known, Jewelweed. Jewelweed is quite the prolific spreader. It likes both woodland and moist areas, or so I’ve heard, though it seems just as content growing along roadsides, too. Interestingly, it is also often found growing alongside poison ivy; nature, when left to her own devices, often provides both the malady and cure side-by-side. But that’s neither here nor there. Inside it’s hollow stem is a watery mucilage. Just break it open and pat (do not rub) along any skin that may have come in contact with poison ivy (use a new stem for each area if more than one possibly infected). Often it is enough to prevent a breakout of the dreaded rash to begin with.
I, unfortunately, did not do that.
However, the stems can be chopped up, placed in a double boiler (see how to improvise without a double boiler Here) and slow simmered with a lid on for a couple of hours (keep a close eye that they do not scorch). Gently dab on the offending rash.
An alternative is to make an infusion (you can learn more about infusions at the same hyperlink above) of spearmint (Mentha spicata) leaves. You can gently dab the infusion on the same as with Jewelweed or, as I did this morning, I poured half of the infusion into a cup and added enough baking soda to make a paste. This keeps the infusion from dripping and the baking soda will help to dry it up the rash. Sadly, while this last will help clear it up faster, it has to be reapplied frequently to reduce the itch.
“The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot. The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.” (Psalm 16: 5-6)
This one is live! As in, in-person…my first!
To say that I’m not feeling a bit of that “Imposter Syndrome” would be a lie. Yes, I am a certified herbalist…and a Master Gardener. Yes, I do know how to use herbs and make medicine, health & beauty aids. I know how to use herbs for scent and I have at least a rudimentary knowledge of how to make dyes with some. And, yes, there are certain ones I can readily identify in the wild.
However, a recent walk through the nature trail that I will be working from at this live event revealed there are a lot of plants I don’t know. And, in this particular setting, there wasn’t a huge variety of plants…outside of some invasive species. That being said, I identified enough that I can put together an interesting walk.
At least I hope so…
Again, “Imposter Syndrome”–I am plagued with doubts. However, if I was too cocky and sure of myself, that would be the road to failure. A little nervousness is to be expected and, like all things, the more often I do this, the more comfortable I’ll get with it…and, in the future, I’ll make it a point to plan more “weed” walks through abandoned lots and sunny meadows rather than deep woods and dappled sunlight since most of the herbs I’m most familiar with are typically grown in sunnier locales. ;o)
Despite my nerves, I’m looking forward to the challenge of creating a fun and interesting experience for everyone who decides to join me on the walk.
If you live in northeastern Connecticut, the “weed” walk is part of an event being hosted by the Brooklyn Middle School in Brooklyn, CT between 10:00 a.m. and 12:00 p.m. on Saturday, June 3, 2023. Wear your walking shoes because the terrain is uneven, rocky in places, full of roots ready to trip you up, and steep in some areas.
“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.” (1 Timothy 17)
Washing out a bread wrapper to repurpose it as a sandwich wrap. Buying a book of matches to keep in the bathroom as a quick and inexpensive way to eliminate odors. Wearing a pair of jeans twice before washing them. Combining errands to save on gasoline. None of these practices by themselves will make a big dent in your budget. However, when combined with a host of other money saving practices, they may.
Another important practice—probably the most important one—is budgeting.
Yes, I know that’s almost a “dirty” word for many people. However, this is a skill that should be taught from grammar school on up through college until it is second nature. I cannot tell you how many people I know who don’t know how to manage money. The concept is completely foreign to them.
One of my ex-husbands (yeah, one of those rare times I’m bringing one of them up!) looked at his paycheck each month. For the sake of this exercise, let’s say he earned $2000 each month. His rent/mortgage payment was $1200. He paid $150 per month for electricity, $300 for groceries, $50 for his phone, and $150 for heat. A cable company offered him this great-sounding package for $150 each month, all the movie channels. He’d jump on it. He can afford it. He makes $2000 a month. Forgotten was the grand total for all the other expenses he had: $1850. Yes, there’s another $150 available there. But, he neglected to include gasoline for his car. Ditto for taxes, oil changes, tires, etc. He smoked. He drank beer. None of that was budgeted either. He maxed himself out and then, when something broke and needed repair or replacement, he had nothing to fall back on, and nothing saved. Instead, he’d fall behind, robbing Peter to pay Paul.
Sometimes that happens anyway, no matter how carefully we budget. Layoffs, recessions, injuries, illnesses, even some discriminatory actions that may crop up from time to time, may have an impact even with a budget. My own circumstances are like that. The new mortgage payment, amortizing in all the overdue payments from the injury in 2019, is quite high and doesn’t leave a lot of wiggle room…especially with intermittent running water requiring Mom and I to buy it in. But, this overall circumstance didn’t arise from a lack of budgeting. It’s been a lack of income. You cannot budget what isn’t there in the first place. However, having a budget–complete with some sort of savings plan–certainly helps. Having a budget lets you see just where you might be able to cut some corners to ease some of the burden.
Having a budget can also help when looking for a new job. If you need $2000 a month just for your most basic needs, you need a job that pays at least that much. Or you need to find something you can do on the side to generate supplemental income.
I used to pet sit on the side. Having a budget helps with side hustles, too. The client may be willing to pay you $20 a day to take care of their pets for them but, if you have to drive an hour each way to care for them, you’ll lose money on the gasoline you’re using. If things are tight, will you even have the gas money to put into your tank in the first place so you can get to the job?
A budget is a means of preparing for as many eventualities as you can. It won’t shield you from every calamity but, having a budget—especially one that includes some sort of savings (even if it’s just spare change; amazing how quickly that adds up)—is one of the most empowering skills you can have. Budgeting takes you from being a victim of circumstance to being a survivor…and a confident one at that.
“A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, and the wealth of the sinner is stored up for the righteous.” (Proverbs 13:22)
Having to buy in water can get pretty costly, and it’s certainly not sustainable long-term. A gallon jug of water averages around $1.50 – $2.00 here in Connecticut. I’ve shared how Mom and I have had intermittent water service here at home due to either a faulty well-pump (it’s lasted over 20 years so I guess we’re due to replace soon…), or a chewed wire somewhere. In addition to providing drinking water for Mom and I, we have goats, chickens, ducks, cats, and a feisty old Cockatiel named Smoky Bones for which to provide. We also have to bathe and, well, yes, without a functioning water source, flushing becomes an issue, too.
I may have shared this before but, it bears repeating if I did. With inflation, the threat of both nuclear war, and at least a recession, on the horizon, knowing what to do when the most basic systems go down is pretty important. Of course, if systems go down, this particular source will not be there either but, for lesser disasters, such as the one Mom and I are currently experiencing, it works…at least for the short-term.
Walmart has a refill service.
They have one-, two- and five-gallon jugs that can be refilled in store. I normally take 15 jugs in to refill every couple of days. It’s still an expense I’d rather avoid but, until I can replace/repair everything, it’s considerably less than buying new gallons every few days. You can either purchase a few refillable jugs from the company that provides the reverse osmosis machine, or Walmart will also allow customers to refill their “Great Value” jugs for the same inexpensive price of .39 cents (at least the local Walmart allows this; hopefully, yours does, too). The same 15 gallons costs me less than $6.00…instead of almost $17.00 for new.
Incidentally, many of the cashiers have expressed appreciation for writing “REFILL” on the jugs when you bring them back for refilling; it helps with ringing them up. Otherwise, you might get charged for new ones. I use a regular Sharpie. It shows up big and bold.
I do not wish this existence on anyone but, it’s always good to know where to go, and what to do, when these things do happen.
“And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat” (Genesis 1:29)
Though it is a couple of weeks’ late, as promised, this week’s Wednesday Weed Walk isn’t so much about a specific herb but, about a way to preserve the herbs for future use when not in their growing, or harvest, seasons.
A tincture is, in my opinion anyway, the easiest way to make medicine. You can tincture a single herb, or blend them. I tend to do the latter…except when I’m making my own vanilla extract (recipe below).
To tincture herb(s), you need a clean, sterile container (repurposed glass Mason jars work well!) and, preferably, 100 proof alcohol of some kind. I use 100 proof vodka to tincture my herbs but other mediums, such as rum, would also work. You can use an 80 proof and broaden the selection of spirits but, you will need a few capsules of vitamin E oil added against spoilage, as anything less than 100 proof may mold. Apple cider vinegar (ACV), also with added vitamin E oil, will work for short-term storage. With ACV, you will have to store your tinctures in the refrigerator and they will only keep for 2 weeks, at best. When tincturing in 100 proof alcohol, your tinctures remain shelf-stable for up to 2 years. However, if you, or someone you love, is susceptible to alcoholism, or for young children, ACV may be the better option for you.
Tincturing is simple. You measure your herbs into a jar and pour the alcohol, or ACV, over them until they are covered with the liquid. Then you put a lid on the jar, label it with the contents, ingredients, the date you started the tincturing, and the batch #. This last isn’t 100% necessary but, if you decide to sell herbal products, having a running batch # is helpful should any adverse reactions occur. Depending upon the medium you used, you place the tincture into the refrigerator, or in a dark cabinet (too much light will destroy the healing properties), and shake it daily for two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, you can either leave the spent-herbs inside, and strain as you use it, or strain them now, at the two week mark, into another clean and sterile jar, or dark-colored bottle.
You can use fresh herbs, or dried. If using dried, remember the herbs will have a higher concentration of medicinal properties to them. 1/3 of the amount of dried herbs suffices. So, if you normally measure 1 tablespoon of, say, fresh chamomile, you would only use a teaspoon of the dried.
Making medicine is the part I like the best but, you can also use this method to create extracts for the kitchen, such as vanilla. To make vanilla extract, you will need a dark jar/bottle of some kind (you can find online, or many herb shops will sell them), or a dark cabinet to store them if using clear glass. It doesn’t need to be a large bottle. A couple of ounces suffices. Think of the tiny bottles that vanilla extract comes in at the grocery store. Anyway, take 2-3 vanilla beans, slice them in half lengthwise, and put them in the bottle (if bottle is short, you may also need to cut them in half the other way, too). Fill the bottle with 100 proof alcohol, screw on the cap, give it a shake and let it tincture for two weeks. Once the two weeks are over, however, in this case, you will NOT be straining the liquid into another container. Instead, keep the vanilla beans in the liquid. As you use it, you can simply top it off with more 100 proof alcohol, and/or add more vanilla beans over time. Also, in this case, the ACV will NOT work. However, any concerns over the alcohol content should be unfounded as the alcohol burns off in the cooking/baking process.
This same method will work for almonds, lemon peels, etc. too.
“I tell you the truth, anyone who gives you a cup of water in My Name because you belong to Christ will certainly not lose his reward.” (Mark 9:41)
First of all, I want to give a shout out to all of my Celtic, Wiccan, and Pagan friends reading this: Happy Beltane/Bealtaine! May 1st is the midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice in the northern hemisphere and it mark’s the first day of summer in Gaelic Ireland. Throughout Ireland, as well as Scotland and the Isle of Man, celebrations may include bonfires, the decorating of homes with early spring flowers, and a visit to some holy wells. As with any celebration, there is usually a feast involved.
Here in the U.S., May 1st is May Day. Though I don’t know of any schools still doing this, my mother remembers dancing around the maypole as a child. I’m guessing the real meaning of the dance (to increase and celebrate fertility) may be the reason this celebration has fallen out of popularity in the mainstream. But Happy May Day, as well!
Now for my usual Monday meanderings…
On a positive note, I managed to make the last of the three trial mortgage payments last week. Now I wait and see if the mortgage company is still willing to reinstate it. The proverbial bear crept into my bearing (no pun intended). Snippy, impatient, irritated—and that’s just for starters. On top of that, our intermittent water source decided to act up. We had no running water for much of the week. Once again I wished for one of those hand-pumps like Laura Ingalls Wilder would’ve used. They’re costly to install but then, so is a new well-pump, water softener, and hot water tank—all of which we desperately need. Ditto for new electrical lines to replace the ones chewed by our latest resident rodent population. The bathroom ceiling hasn’t leaked in some time (crossing fingers) but, the basement door has rotted out; there’s a gaping hole in the bottom…hence, the rodent population’s easy access in and out (among others). We need a new roof, gutters, and the barn door needs replacing along with the basement door.
Rotted out basement door
To top things off, as many of you know, I lost one of my favorite aunts recently. Two of my best friends lost their aunt yesterday; I knew Carol, loved her as almost a second aunt. They say this comes in threes; I sincerely hope not.
I came home from work on Thursday to find Felicity, one of my geriatric goats, had somehow managed to get her head stuck between the stanchion and the wall next to it. I have no idea how long she was there but, she must’ve bumped and bruised her throat a bit trying to get loose. She wouldn’t eat. Nothing appeared broken but, I had to make a run up to the local Walmart for some baby food so that I could at least get some nourishment into her body while her sore throat healed. She is now back to her usual feisty self eating solid foods again. She also polished off quite a lot of Japanese knotweed yesterday, which contains a mucilage that will help her heal even faster. Thank God! But she had me worrying for a few days. The gap between stanchion and wall has since been blocked.
And now Luna, one of our cats, has something sticky all along her left side. No idea what it is but, Mom says she came flying out of the garage-turned-barn like a bat out of hell and has been a little neurotic ever since. We checked her over. She’s not injured in any way, just sticky and matted. We’ve only been allowed to clean her up in short spurts before she’s had enough but, in time, I’m sure we’ll sort it all out.
When I say I am bodaciously tired out, I sincerely mean it. Here’s to hoping the coming week will be a little better, fewer upsets, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get a few things done.
On some positive notes, the rhubarb we planted a couple of years’ ago is growing beautifully; I can’t wait to make my first pie out of it. The broad-leaf chives have spread further and smell divine. The Egyptian onions are making a comeback. And the apple mint is threatening to take over the front yard. These are small victories that make some of the aforementioned hardships at least tolerable. And, thankfully, the heavy rains last night didn’t knock off all of the blossoms. Below is the magnolia tree in all of its glory! I planted it as a little 12” sapling over 10 years’ ago; I love seeing it in bloom.
RhubarbMagnolia in Bloom
I sincerely hope everyone reading this had a better week last week…and will have an even better week going forward.
“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.
The Herbal Hare Tomestead and Animal Sanctuary 