Category: Emergency Preparedness

Christianity, Cooking, Creativity, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Frugality, gardening, Homesteading, Human rights, illness, Minimalism, Nature, Politics, Poverty, Prayer, Prepping, Self-improvement

The Best Investment Made on the Homestead

Lisa Burbank

“The Mighty One, God, the Lord, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to the place where it sets. From Zion, perfect in beauty, God shines forth. Our God comes and will not be silent; a fire devours before Him, and around Him a tempest rages.” (Psalm 50:1-3)

In an earlier blog post, I talked about how when under extreme amounts of stress we often get “stupid”. Or, perhaps a better way of putting it, the feeling of being overwhelmed becomes so great that staying on top of even the littlest thing becomes a challenge. Translation: yours truly has been seriously off her game for way too long.

I didn’t check the level of oil in the furnace this weekend past. My bad!

Yesterday, Mom thought the house was starting to feel a little chilly. She fired up the woodstove, which is fine. Temps are supposed to be minus zero this weekend and I had purchased some bundles of wood to supplement the oil. Prices are ridiculous, which is probably why some part of me didn’t check the gauge: avoidance. This is the first year in a long time without full heating assistance. With my new salary, we no longer qualify. That’s not a lamentation; I am extremely grateful, especially after so many years of want. But this winter is an adjustment…and yes, I dropped the ball.

We are out of oil.

I called George at the local oil company and he will deliver later this morning. However, unlike so many others who would be in dire straits in such brutal cold, we weathered it just fine because we are not bound by one source of heat. The woodstove I purchased back in 2011 has been the best investment into this homestead that I have made so far. Power outages, extreme temperatures, and yes, even human error have proven to me time and again what a valuable investment it was. It has more than paid for itself in the last 12 years. When I can’t afford cords of wood, deadfall, bio-bricks, which you can make yourself (more on that in another post…), or even old pallets cut up will do in an emergency. I can even heat water, or cook, on it in a pinch.

We are also not 100% reliant on “the system”.

This is the real reason why so many people turn to homesteading and prepping. I know this last is often associated with negative connotations. “Prepper”, to some, may conjure up images of some guy in camo, fully armed, living off roots and reindeer carcasses in the wilderness. Sure, this stereo-type is ready for anything–supposedly–but, prepping is just homesteading taken a step beyond. We’re not just reducing our dependency on modern systems, such as food, heating, and transportation; we’re also planning and preparing for a total system shutdown. And, if that last word conjures images of 2020 2.0, you would be right.

The pandemic should’ve be a lesson to us all. Systems break down. Supplies don’t always get through on time. Illnesses, injuries, and natural disasters happen. There is no way of knowing when, or for how long, these things will last, the toll that they may take. Inflation, and a potential world war, may be our next breakdown of systems; prepping, to my mind, is the only sensible course to take.

That being said, financial difficulties in recent years have put me behind on my prepping. Prepping kept me solvent for over 2 years after losing all 3 jobs that I had been working when the Great Recession hit. Unless your last name is Gates, Fauci, or Schwab, no human being’s finances will last them forever…no matter how carefully we plan, save, or how frugally we live. But careful planning, frugal living, and saving will serve you well for much longer than any government assistance that may, or may not, be forthcoming in a crisis.

For those who rent, no, installing a woodstove may not be an option for you. However you may be able to create a small grocery budget for, say, $10.00 extra each month to purchase extra canned and frozen foods. No, not the healthiest options but, it’s always good to have them around. Organize them by expiration dates. Those that will expire first, place at the front of the cabinet, drawer, or closet. Add new products to the back so you don’t take them first and allow older food to spoil. Even if you don’t garden, learn how to can and ferment food. When able, take advantage of sales and can, or ferment, whatever your family won’t eat before it all spoils. You can do this with food donations from a food pantry, too, if you are in such dire straits as to need them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of; Mom and I have had to rely on such extra ourselves in recent years. It falls under the heading of “sh** happens”. And, as much of the gifts received from a food pantry may be day-old and won’t last so long, canning or fermenting will extend the shelf life. You can also extend the life of canned goods nearing their date. Heat them up, or pre-cook meals, and freeze them in serving-sized bowls to be re-heated at a later date. Be sure to label them and, like the canned goods on your shelves, place newer additions to the back of the freezer. They should be fine for up to 3 months in the freezer. Peruse army/navy surplus stores for cold weather gear. Purchase a small tent that can be put up in your living room, or bedroom, to help you conserve heat should systems fail. Keep a supply of bottled water, extra pet food, candles and/or oil lamps with their oil, and matches on hand.

And don’t vote for anyone who wants to take away your right to grow and/or preserve food for yourself and your family, or heat your home with a fuel that grows naturally and can be found by a quick walk through nature. This isn’t conspiracy theory; it’s common sense. It is much easier to hold onto the freedoms we already have than to get back any we’ve lost. Government may make it look more attractive, such as with these 15 minute cities where everything is conveniently within a 15 minute walk from home, but the cost is always higher than the convenience is truly worth.

When all else fails, pray without ceasing…in fact, pray without ceasing before it all fails.

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!

Animals, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Emergency Preparedness, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Healing, Herbs, illness, Prayer

Another Manic Monday?

Lisa Burbank

“Great is the Lord and highly praised in the city of our God: the holy mountain, fairest of heights, the joy of all the earth, Mount Zion, the heights of Zaphon, the city of the great king.” (Psalm 48:2-3)

I’ve started approaching Mondays with trepidation. And yesterday was no exception.

Our new director at the library is leaving. A registered nurse, she is returning to the medical field. I respect her decision but, it leaves me sad, too. She’s done an amazing job, bringing patronage up, implementing children’s programs, and creating a community gathering space that is friendly to all. It has been a pleasure to work with her.

Last Monday I tested positive for Covid-19, the new RA5 variant. A lot sleepy, a cough, some aches and chills the first couple of days and a splitting headache; I’ve had worse. The herbalist eschewed the Paxlovid prescribed and relied instead on the upper-respiratory tincture I use to control my asthma. If it can heal me of pneumonia and bronchitis, as it has in the past, I trust it far better than anything Big Pharma has to offer. And the doc says my lungs sound good so it hasn’t failed me with ‘Rona either.

The week before, I had my final mediation meeting with the attorneys as regards the foreclosure on my home. Though I recently received a significant raise and an increase in hours and will be submitting another application for modification, it’s likely only a matter of time before the mortgage company implements a short sale of the property. We’re measuring a place to lay our heads in months, not years. It’s frightening. And yet, a part of me is also anticipating a sense of relief to get the proverbial monkey off of my back. If I can get the modification, I still have zoning to battle. If I can sway zoning back in my favor, I have a roof that needs replacing, new gutters to consider, a water softener and hot water tank to replace, as well as some electrical and plumbing issues to address. The back door doesn’t close properly due to too much settling. The barn needs the doors re-hung. It’s one thing after another. And, even with zoning in my favor again, I’m limited in what I can do here. The Herbal Hare Tomestead and Animal Rescue may never be realized in this space. So, while I have no clue where He’s leading me, or how we’re going to get there with the menagerie of animals in our care now, I have nothing left but to surrender to His will.

And hope that next Monday won’t be another harbinger of bad news.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS I’d be delighted if you could share this link. The wider the net, the better chance we have of finding a new home. And, please, pray for us without ceasing.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-this-animal-sanctuary-grow-and-thrive

Abuse, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Culture, Diversity, Emergency Preparedness, Exhaustion, Faith, Healing, Homesteading, Human rights, Humanity First, Politics, Poverty, Prayer, Prepping, Social Media

I’ve Joined a Cult…or, So They Tell Me

Lisa Burbank

“There is a saying, ‘Love your friends and hate your enemies’. But I say: Love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you!” (Matthew 5:43-44)

I have a different opinion than my “leftist” brothers and sisters. It is an opinion based upon news articles, and both independent and foreign news outlets, because I don’t consider our own mainstream media trustworthy. Their advertisers, who support their programming, are all too often big pharma, big tech, big oil, agribusiness, monetized green energies, and/or corporate America. That creates a bias. Who, in their right mind, is going to bite the hand that feeds them? As I re-enter academia to receive my Masters, I am reminded again that biased information is to be avoided…and how to tell if it is biased or not. I look for peer-reviewed information, when I can find it, and really dig down deep for any reason that might create a bias when I can’t find a peer-reviewed article on a subject. I’m not perfect, but I do my best.

Sadly, it’s becoming dangerous to think for yourself. Were the men who orchestrated The Boston Tea Party to rise up against the tyranny of the British monarchy today, like the Canadian truckers, they’d be labeled fascists and white supremacists, even with no evidence to the contrary. How dare you fight for individual freedom? Considering the outcome of The Boston Tea Party, it’s not much of a stretch to think that maybe the Canadian government is afraid of a similar outcome. They’re certainly afraid of a loss of control.

And, by proxy, so are our U.S. leaders.

These are scary times. That almost cliched expression of our Founding Fathers rolling over in their graves is apt; they would be if they could see us today.

I’ve been homesteading and prepping for years, albeit with some major setbacks (shoulder injury with subsequent job loss, pending foreclosure, zoning challenge). I see the hardships coming as big pharma, big tech, big oil, agribusiness, monetized green energies and corporate America continue to crush the working poor, the small business owners and the family farms by ever stricter regulations…with these shutdowns being the final nail in the coffin for far too many. I see the challenges to our individual freedoms, the hypocrisy of “my body, my choice” when it comes to ending the life of an innocent child, but how dare you fight for that same bodily autonomy when it comes to getting jabbed with something whose long-term affects are still unknown and that has neither stopped the spread, nor protected any from contracting, this new *bug*. I see the attempts to keep us divided, distracted, and ignorant.

An acquaintance of mine posted a picture on social media of her well-stocked pantry last October after she’d finished canning everything from her garden. Her post was tagged. She is considered a “radical” and “a person of interest”. For canning her produce instead of wasting it?

Or for independent thought and action?

So, I guess I have joined “the cult”. Like Senator Bernie Sanders, who embraced the “socialist” label, rather than rebel against it, I, too, will accept the label. You may disagree with me. That’s okay. Sadly, though, by labeling each other, we shutdown the time-honored tradition of debate and discourse that has been the cornerstone of any grassroots’ movement, of any significant change or advancement of our society. Closing the door to one’s mind only leads to a dead end.

Open the door. Open your mind. And pray without ceasing.

May God bless you & keep you!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-this-animal-sanctuary-grow-and-thrive

19th century, Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal Rights, Animals, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Faith, gardening, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, Love, Plants, Reading, Religion, Self-esteem, Writing

X to have Z…

Lisa Burbank

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so no one may boast.” (Ephesians, 2:8-9)

I want to be a writer, but I have to have some other career to support it, I have to do something else besides write…well, not all of us can be the next Toni Morrison or Stephen King so maybe there’s some truth to this one…but there must be something defectively wrong with me to not have found another career option that I feel just as passionate about…

Like some of my favorite authors who write 8 hours a day, I have to carve out 8 hours of my own to dedicate to my novel, my blog, etc; I can’t be a writer if I don’t write every day for 8 hours a day…even with a “day” job and a small hobby farm and the need to eat, sleep and, well, you know…

Like a favorite singer/songwriter, I do my best writing at 3:30 a.m. so, if I don’t get up at 3:30 a.m. every day to write, I’m not doing my best writing?

I can’t run a used bookstore; I won’t make enough money from it to support myself; I need another career to supplement it (it’s like the writer thing…)

I want to rescue animals, to offer them sanctuary–and often do–but, I’m a single female and I’m in danger of becoming a hoarder–or so the media tells me. If I was married, or a man, and still took in the occasional stray cat, and the free-to-good-home rabbits and goats, etc., found forever homes for some and offered a forever home to others, because their original humans were being evicted and no longer had a home to offer them, would I NOT be in danger of becoming a hoarder?

I want to homestead, to grow my own food and produce my own clothing, to live as sustainably as possible and lower my carbon footprint, but I don’t have enough land, enough money, enough knowledge, and I have to start right here…well, I have, sort of, but I’m also facing foreclosure myself so there’s a bit of apathy getting in the way. Why keep investing here when here may soon be gone?

In my youth, I wanted to be a rock star but, I didn’t keep my guitar strapped to me day in and day out. I only spent an hour or two each day practicing after work, so I guess I must not have wanted it so badly…

When I worked in living history, I told myself I didn’t know enough about either herbs or gardening to manage an heirloom herb garden. I felt like a fraud and everyone would find out eventually that I didn’t have what it takes. It’s called Imposter Syndrome; I just learned about it in my first class as I work towards my MFA in Creative Writing…

I made a mistake 10 years’ ago and rushed headlong into an abusive relationship with someone. I knew better, saw trouble coming a mile away, heard the voice of Reason in my ear saying, “Walk the other way” and ignored it; gave him a chance. I no longer deserve God’s grace…or His love…or the love of another man should I ever meet him…

These are the lies I tell myself, among others. Having just turned 55, “I’m too old” is another…even with the evidence before me that age has nothing to do with success or love or, well, anything…except maybe wisdom and experience, and the appreciation that usually comes with them.

“I’m not worthy” is the overall underlying message in each of these. I have to *earn* it. And, yes, if I want to write, I have to write. If I want to grow food, I have to plant a garden. If I want to be taken seriously at any endeavor and meet with success, I have to do the work. So, these things I tell myself each day have an undercurrent of truth and practicality ringing through.

The Serpent is cunning, to say the least…

There are conditions to everything, especially when you grow up in a house with addictions and abuse. A loving Father is an alien concept. And, no matter how much love, support, etc. you receive from others, that nuclear family unit that consists of parents, siblings and yourself, has the power to shape your way of thinking for life. So, it’s no wonder I’ve tied myself in knots and can’t seem to get out of my own way. Writing books, selling used books, caring for unwanted animals (or those on the receiving end of someone’s hard luck), homesteading and prepping, even learning an instrument by themselves may not be *enough* income to survive, let alone thrive, but together? Or, even if I still work a “day” job, I’m not allowed the joy that each may bring to me?

They’re idols.

That’s another lie echoing through my mind. The Lord has brought me to this place because I’ve made “idols” of animals and books, and I’m trying to live self-sufficiently, which means I’m not relying on Him…or so I’ve heard said. To punish me for this “idolatry”, He’s going to whisk it all away. Hence, the impending doom of foreclosure and zoning challenges…

Who would follow such a God?

Or am I wrong? Will I be stripped down to nothing? Am I being taught another lesson in not judging others for decisions they’ve made during hard luck circumstances? Again, I don’t deserve His grace because I haven’t always given grace to others…

Praise God we don’t get what we *deserve* for our mistakes. Ultimately, I know there’s nothing we can do to *earn* his grace; it is already freely given but, my faith needs a good bolstering today.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Animal Rights, Animals, Appreciation, Bereavement, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Culture, Diversity, Emergency Preparedness, Faith, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Holidays, Homesteading, Human rights, Humanity First, illness, Open-mindedness, Politics, Poverty, Prayer, Prepping, Religion, Scripture, Social Media, Spirituality

Happy New Year 2022!

Lisa Burbank

“For you have a new life. It was not passed on to you from your parents, for the life they gave you will fade away. This new one will last forever, for it comes from Christ, God’s ever-living Message to men.” (1 Peter 1:23)

I find myself unable to think of a word, or biblical phrase, to define this year. I’ve thought of “Intention”. “Trust”. “Discipline”. I need to work on all of these…and a phrase/verse from the Bible to help remind me.

Wow.

I guess I really am mired in depression. See? I need to work on that trust issue for sure!

But, as always, on New Years’, I like to take a moment to reflect on the year past and remember those loved ones who will never again grace The Herbal Hare in life.

Praise the Lord, my human family has been hale and hearty this year. =) However, we did lose the boss of the barnyard this past spring. Sgt. Feathers, my Polish crested rooster, is protecting his ladies in heaven these days. And while his sons, Radar and MIG, and grandson, Jeep, are doing their best to carry on with protecting our living flock, it seems strange not to hear his trumpeting anymore…followed closely by a little, squeaky half-pint of a crowing. Tank, the little Silkie, who, having followed so closely at Sgt. Feathers’ heels in life, followed his commander closely in death, too. I lost them within a few days of each other. With Sgt. Feathers, it had been expected; every day was a gift. He was quite old for a roo (10) and had started walking almost hunched over like the old man he was. Tank, however, is a mystery. No sign of illness or injury. But, because they like to peck the ground, parasites are always an issue…no matter how clean and careful you are with their environment.

Sgt. Feathers
Tank

We also lost two beloved felines this year.

Only a few days after I posted last New Year’s memorial, Mom’s cat, Rosco, left us. Rosco had an interesting life. He was found atop a house in Illinois during all the flooding in the Midwest over a decade ago. No clue who his owners were, he was brought to a local shelter. Mom and my stepfather were shopping at PetSmart one weekend. The store was hosting an adoption clinic this day. Mom saw Rosco and fell in love. But my stepfather said, “No, no more cats!”. She worked on him as they wandered the store and, as they reached the checkout, he relented.

But Rosco had already been adopted…

…by their upstairs neighbor in the apartment complex where they lived! Said neighbor did not take good care of him though. Mom watched in horror as this declawed kitty had his front paws intentionally raked over the rough bark of a tree, lost weight due to inadequate feeding, and lastly was kicked by the neighbor’s boyfriend. Mom saw them outside with him on a leash, marched over, picked Rosco up and walked away with him. When the couple protested and threatened to call the police, Mom challenged them to go right ahead so she and the other neighbors could all tell the police how cruel they had been to this little guy. Poor Rosco had to have his jaw wired from the kick. And had to be fed frequent, tiny meals for awhile until his shrunken stomach could handle more substantial amounts of food. He grew to expect the frequent feedings though. He was quite fat by the end of his days…except his tail, which stood up skinny and reminiscent of the wire used to guide the bumper cars at a fair. He rode shotgun on the dashboard of Mom’s minivan when she traveled across country from Missouri to Connecticut to move in with me back in 2014. His “hoot” will be missed (Rosco’s jaw remained misshapen due to the abuse he endured before Mom rescued him and he could not articulate a more traditional “Me-ow!”).

Rosco

Lastly, Kirby. We lost him in May 2021. Kirby came to “visit” for the first time in the spring of 2014. I heard some of the resident felines howling in protest in the kitchen, went to investigate, and saw a bright-eyed little face peeking in over the window ledge. He did this for several nights…all while I protested I did not *need* another cat. He probably belongs to a neighbor, he’s just passing through, etc. But he kept coming back. And, finally, I determined that, yes, God had planted another stray kitty in my path. I started feeding him, gaining his trust. It took a few months (!!??!) before I was able to trap him and get him indoors. And then another couple of weeks of him being isolated in a room by himself until I could get him to a vet.

He howled all the way to the vet office, ripped open his toes trying to claw his way out of the travel cage, and then shot out of the cage and placed bloody runnels down the exam room walls as soon as the doc opened the cage. He had to be sedated so she could examine him, patch up his mangled toes, neuter and give him his shots. I seriously thought this was one baby who was too feral for a forever indoor home.

He proved me wrong.

Mom had just arrived with Rosco and Max, her blue heeler we lost a couple of years’ ago, and Kirby and Rosco became bosom buddies, along with Paz, my geriatric tuxedo. Then, a few months’ later, when a pregnant Priscilla was dumped off on the farm, he minded her babies like the proud surrogate Papa he became to them. He, Ozzy, Emmylou, and Alice Cooper became inseparable, and he was a sort of ambassador to every poor feline this farm has taken in since.

However, I proved him wrong, too. I told him he would love laps someday…and I was right. Once he was reassured that he was loved and there would always be someone to care for him, he was the ultimate cuddle kitty. =)

Kirby with his adopted “sons”, Alice Cooper and Ozzy Osbourne (l to r)

Both Rosco and Kirby, Priscilla late last December, and earlier in 2020, my Pearl, all developed kidney and heart disease rather suddenly after using Seresto collars. I don’t know if there is a correlation, though I did see an article in USA Today in regard, stating that these collars are being linked to possible kidney and heart disease; I have not found the link to that article today but, I did find a more recent news article about how certain lawmakers are asking that these collars be recalled. There have been reported incidents in the thousands as regards these collars so, please, proceed with caution if you are using them for your pets. I have included the link below so you may read it for yourselves. My then-vet suggested the kidney and heart failure was simply due to their age. Granted, Pearl was 16 when she passed; Kirby and Rosco both estimated at 12-13 years’ of age. Priscilla, however, was only 7, a bit too young, in my opinion and experience, to be struck with organ failure. No sign of illness in any of them prior to these sudden downturns…and I do mean sudden. Rosco had been playing with me like a young kitten just 3 days’ earlier when all of a sudden, he just stopped eating and started shutting down. We have since found a new vet as the “old” one refused to take my concerns seriously when I voiced them to him. I may be wrong about the collars but, it seems, I am not alone in my concerns with them.

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/seresto-flea-collar-recall-pet-deaths/

Kirby; the best ones are the ones who choose you (sigh!)

In addition to these memorials, I think it is safe to say that 2021 was even more challenging than 2020. I’ve alienated a lot of friends due to my stance as regards mandating getting jabbed with something that neither protects one from contracting an illness, nor prevents one from spreading it. I’ve been a Democrat all of my life; I am seriously considering at least becoming “unaffiliated” as I cannot abide the hate and vitriol being spewed about by others of the party. The fear-mongering by mainstream media; the attempts to force us into a police, or authoritarian state; the lack of respect for others who do not share the same views have left a bitter taste in my mouth. I actually owe President Trump an apology for being so anti-Trump during his tenure. While he will never be a favorite of mine, yeah, it really was a witch hunt…one, I am ashamed to say, I contributed to widely on social media.

I don’t know what this new year will bring. The media continues to cry for the arrest, ostracism, and abuse of those who either cannot, or will not, take their (in my opinion) poison**. Gasoline is up to $3.60 per gallon here in New England for regular unleaded; I’m sure it will rise even higher as we approach summer. Empty shelves grace the local Walmart and grocery stores, and there’s sticker shock when you do find what you’re looking for. On a more personal note, while foreclosure is still eminent here at The Herbal Hare, I find myself even more committed to homesteading, and now prepping, than ever before. I cannot help but think a collapse of some sort is eminent. I pray I am wrong, but it doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing. Perhaps you’re all thinking, there goes another whacked out conspiracy theorist. But, maybe, just maybe, there’s something to those conspiracies. (No, I don’t think little green men are injecting tracking devices under our skin, but I do see changes in government, in our society, that make me think I may have to carry around special papers proclaiming myself “free” (passport anyone?), or don a special band marking me as some sort of enemy (face masks?))

However, I am committed to building a community of like-minded people, too. None of us are islands unto ourselves; we need community. Perhaps the word I’m looking for this year is “tribe”. Regardless of whether or not you agree with me on a social or political level, when all is said and done, this year I feel it is especially important to at least be kind to one another. We are all struggling during this turmoil. And our tribe, or family, is who we choose to care for.

But this is all just what I think. I invite you to share, whether you agree or not, in the comments below. I do ask that you be respectful of others, and of this blog, by refraining from profanity, name-calling, bullying or belittling; again, we are all one family, each a very special part of the body of Christ, none of us whole without the other. That being said, regardless of what you believe (or not!); how you look; who you love; socioeconomic status, or current “jab” status, all are welcome…to this blog, to this community, in my home and in my heart. We got through 2021 together, we can get through 2022 as well…and, hopefully, come out the backside of it in a much better place than we are going in.

Wishing everyone much love, much hope, peace, prosperity and, above all, a deep and abiding faith for the New Year! May God bless you & keep you!

**A note: though my opinion leans towards choice when it comes to matters of health, to everyone who has been *poked*, please know that I respect your choice to do so. It is your body and you have to do what is best for you and yours. I am not “anti” pokes; I am anti mandating personal autonomy. For everyone obsessed with forcing others to do as you do, stop for one moment, please, and think how you would feel if suddenly a mandate was issued that said you were no longer *allowed* to get poked, even though you feel in your heart it is the right thing to do for you and yours.

Again, may God bless you & keep you! Stay safe & stay free!

Animals, Emergency Preparedness, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Nature, Plants, Prayer, Recipes, Scripture

Wednesday’s Weed Walk – “Dew of the Sea”

Lisa Burbank

“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 which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat’.” (Genesis 1:29)

My geriatric kitty, Kirby, went to the vet a couple of weeks’ ago. It was a routine visit for his rabies and distemper shots and, as he is a geriatric kitty, I had the doc do what they call a senior panel. Basically, they extract some blood for the lab and they check to make sure his internal organs are all functioning as they should be.

He’s not in renal failure, though they are going to be watching him closely because his numbers are “elevated”, which could be bad somewhere in the future. His heart is raising greater concerns…the numbers there are too high. He goes back on Friday for x-rays.

As always, the herbalist turns to natural remedies. My go-to is one of Juliette de Bairacli Levy’s books.

For those of you not familiar with Juliette, she’s the grandmother of both modern herbal medicine and natural rearing for animals and children. I started using her books many years ago when a pet rabbit of mine had been deemed a lost cause by her vet because of a kidney infection. An infusion of parsley given internally and a compress of hops placed over her belly, along with dandelion greens given free choice, and Cindy Lou was up and running again two days’ later. Juliette’s books have been trusted companions ever since.

Juliette recommends an infusion of rosemary for any kind of heart disease or disorder. Two tablespoons of rosemary steeped in hot water for 20 minutes with a lid on. Add 1 level teaspoon of local honey for every tablespoon of the infusion. According to Juliette, “rosemary herb has all of the three medicinal properties necessary in heart treatment: it is tonic, cleansing, and also a nervine (de Bairacli Levy, 1992, p. 199). Strengthening, cleansing (which needs no explanation), and stimulating to the nervous system–stimulating in that rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), also known as “dew of the sea,” gives gentle support by “increasing circulation, providing nutrients, and increasing vitality and zest” (Gladstar, 2008, p. 49).

Rosemary is from the plant family Labiatae, or Lamiaceae, which includes all of our mints, basil, catnip, thyme, lavender, hyssop, savory, oregano, marjoram and sage. The leaves are part used in healing. Properties are antipyretic (cooling), antiinflammatory, stomachic, nervine, diaphoretic (promotes sweating), astringent, anodyne and antiseptic. Besides being a good support herb for the heart, it also helps relieve headaches, indigestion, colds, inflammation of the joints, and is good for the hair and scalp (Tierra, 1998, pp. 187-188)

Kirby isn’t sure he likes it yet. I’ve been giving him 4 cc’s each night and I am seeing an improvement in his mood. He’s more active, more alert. I’m hoping the improvement is enough that he will not need any allopathic medicines; far too many do damage to the internal organs further down the road, which is why I often turn to herbs for both Mankind and beast.

For the natural witches and pagans out there, when rosemary is placed beneath your pillow it ensures a good sleep and drives away nightmares; laid under the bed, it protects from harm, and hung from porch and doorposts, it is said to keep thieves away. Added to the bath water, it preserves youthfulness and an infusion of rosemary is often used to wash hands before any healing work as it is cleansing and purifying. Grown in the garden, it attracts elves (Cunningham, 2006, p.p. 218-219).

Who knew this familiar culinary staple packed such a punch?

May God bless you & keep you!

These statements and any information contained on this blog have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This information is intended for educational purposes only and is not meant to substitute for medical care or to prescribe treatment for any specific health condition.

REFERENCES

Cunningham, Scott (2006). Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs, 2nd edition. Llewellyn Publications: Woodbury, MN

De Bairacli Levy, Juliette (1992). The Complete Herbal Handbook for the Dog and Cat, 6th edition. Faber & Faber Limited: London, England

Gladstar, Rosemary (2008). Rosemary Gladstar’s Herbal Recipes for Vibrant Health. Storey Publishing: North Adams, MA

Tierra, Michael (1998). The Way of Herbs. Pocket Books: New York, NY.

Animal Rights, Animals, Bereavement, Birthday Wishes, Christianity, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Family, gardening, God/Jesus, Grief, Herbs, Homesteading, Love, Memories, Reflexology

A Weary Heart

Lisa Burbank

“I will lie down in peace and sleep, for though I am alone, O Lord, You will keep me safe” (Psalms 4:8)

I turned 54 yesterday.

I woke up this morning to find another beloved feline had passed away overnight. No sign of illness or injury, but her son, Alice Cooper, died of a heart defect when he was a little over a year old–on November 22, 2016; his mama left either late November 20, or early November 21, 2020, almost 4 years to the day. Perhaps Mama Priscilla had a heart defect, too.

Priscilla was a very pregnant stray dropped off here 5 years’ ago. Mom and I kept all three surviving kittens, Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper and Emmylou Harris, got everyone spayed/neutered and they have all been a joy. It broke my heart to find Priscilla lying on the floor of the rabbit room. I wondered where she was last night when I went to bed. Usually she gets up on the bed for her nightly cuddle, rubbing her cheek as tightly against mine as she can possibly get it. I assumed there was a mouse brave enough to visit a home with 9 resident felines. Now I wonder if she was already gone by the time I went to bed. Not the most auspicious way to begin your 55th year of life.

Caught the next door neighbor–the same one who challenged zoning back in June and July–hiding in the bushes bordering our properties last week, craning her neck over the stone wall looking for…something. When we pulled up in front of the house to turn into the drive, she had the startled-deer-in-the-headlights look when she realized we were home and had seen her. She left rather quickly.

Mom smokes. When she goes outside at night for a cigarette, if the outside light pops on because she’s walked in front of the motion sensor, someone in this neighbor’s house walks over to the upstairs window and stands there, watching. What are they hoping to see? What is it about us that they find so fascinating? It’s a fixer-upper home. It didn’t have curb appeal when it was up on the market in 2004. It’s definitely gotten worse over the last 16 years. And, though my Mom is an attractive 74 year old, she’s still 74 years old. What do they care if their elderly neighbor sits outside at night?

It’s going to be hard leaving here…well, it would be if not for these neighbors. Perhaps that is His plan to break the sentimental hold this home has on me. 5 dogs, 11 cats, 1 goat, 3 guinea pigs, 1 pet rat, 3 parakeets, 20 rabbits, 4 ducks and 29 chickens have their final resting place in the pet cemetery out back. I kept a reflexology practice here; have planted trees and shrubs, fruits, vegetables, flowers and herbs; learned how to can food, bake bread from scratch and a host of other homesteading skills here. More importantly, I’ve shared a lot of laughter and tears, both good memories and bad, and a whole lot of loving within these four walls…even if the roof does leak and a host of other updates need attending.

But I’m leaving.

The remaining goats, chickens and ducks probably qualify for contraband these days since the nosy neighbors raised a stink. I’ve had some acquaintances suggest contacting Legal Aid to see if there’s help with the zoning issues–help that I engaged long before any farm animals arrived–but I’m thinking, while I may inquire, the biggest part of me is tired of the struggle. The mortgage is high, the repairs many and costly, and the job market in this area is one of the worst. The zoning issue is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

It won’t be easy. I’m looking to homestead, as I had been doing here, but I’m looking to do it on a larger scale. Not necessarily a larger property but a greater attention to self-sufficiency and environmental protection. So that will mean unrestricted use. Land only…to start with.

Even that little bit is daunting to this weary heart. But to give up is inconceivable. I’m getting too old for nosy neighbors and their drama, or living a life that barely scrabbles by rather than living a life that will bring me joy and a sense of security that will be the first I have ever known since I was a very wee child. A life lived with intention and a sense of purpose. It is too short, as Priscilla’s minute time on this earth has reinforced yet again, to waste it on drama and stress.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animals, Christianity, Climate Change, Compassion, Cooking, Creativity, Culture, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Fashion, Fiber Arts, Fleece, Frugality, gardening, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Greenhouse, Herbs, History, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Human rights, Minimalism, Nature, Nostalgia, Organic, Prayer, Scripture, Spices, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Wool, Writing, Zero Waste

Yearnings

Lisa Burbank

“I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of contentment in every situation, whether it be a full stomach or hunger, plenty or want; for I can do everything God asks me to with the help of Christ who gives me the strength and the power” (Philippians 4:12-13)

The above passage from Scripture is almost true for me: No material girl here, but I do know how to live on almost nothing. The last decade or so has taught me well…as did a good portion of my childhood. I don’t need much. In fact, growing up on the lower end of the socioeconomic scale, and being both financially and occupationally challenged in current years, has developed in me a bit of a tightwad. No, I won’t skimp on your birthday or Christmas presents. I will buy you lunch, or tea/coffee, from time to time. I’m extremely frugal but, hopefully, not selfish or stingy. I give what and when I can.

But I perpetually yearn for a simpler life.

If you’ve followed my blog for more than a few months, you know I worked in living history, first as a volunteer for many years, and then as paid staff for a little over a year and a half. My deepest yearnings are for that kind of simpler life in these modern times.

Yup. Maybe I am a few fries short of a Happy Meal. I wouldn’t be the first to over-romanticize an earlier time. But, working in living history, I found a satisfaction in the skills that I learned…and a certain sense of rightness in each of them. Somehow spinning wool on a great wheel, refilling bobbins on a loom tool (smaller spinning wheel designed to load the bobbins for the looms), weaving, braiding straw, cooking and baking on a hearth came naturally to me. Whether this is some sort of ancestral memory, or maybe there is something to reincarnation after all, I don’t know. However, it wasn’t quite so easy for others who learned along with me.

Even the fashions of those earlier days proved to me to be much more comfortable and satisfying than today’s idea of fashion. First of all, the garments were made with natural fibers, which is healthier for us, and for the planet. In those long, full dresses I felt more attractive, more feminine, than in any other attire. So much so that I’ve been perusing websites for similar styles…either purchased ready made (someday when I’m back on my feet, not now that I’m struggling through financial hardship and zoning issues), or for patterns to make myself. There’s a part of me that would love to make several of the work gowns we wore for living history and maybe jazz them up a bit, a modern twist on an antiquated style. And, no, this may not jive with most people’s idea of frugality if I’m talking about purchasing new clothes, but we must wear something on our bodies. Why not something we truly love rather than conforming to modern expectations?

I remember some years’ back writing a post about how satisfying it was to sit down to a meal where the vegetables had been grown completely by my hand in the garden, the bread baked from scratch, the eggs from the chickens I raised, etc. I can’t help thinking that someday it might be just as satisfying to don an outfit that I either grew the cotton or flax, or raised the sheep; sheared/picked, cleaned, dyed, carded, spun, wove, and stitched all by myself. Yes, maybe that is a bit of pride, but I am of the mindset that maybe when we hear that “pride goeth before a fall” it’s not because having pride in one’s appearance, work, or living space will cause us to fall, but that, oftentimes, the only thing left someone has is their pride, and when they lose even that, that’s when they fall…sometimes never to truly get back up again. It’s tough to hold your head up when things are falling apart in your life. And Esther didn’t plead the cause for her people in rags; she dressed to the nine’s. She took pride in her appearance and made a statement. For me, that statement would be to embrace the comfort, simplicity and femininity of a simpler time.

Getting off a soapbox that threatens to get into a discourse on feminism, and going back to one of my beginning statements about yearning for a simpler life, I am referring to the whole reason I started homesteading in the first place. I’m tired of the rat race. I’m tired of killing myself, searching for a 9-to-5 that no longer exists, that will also leave me miserable, with no time to write, create, or work a homestead, and still not pay the most basic of bills. I’m tired of being dependent on the power grid, of our factory farm-to-grocery store food system. I’m tired of synthetic, plastic clothing poisoning our water and soil…and maybe even our bodies; can’t be healthy. I’m tired of all the additives to our foods, the pesticides and herbicides used to grow and preserve our food…and even the genetically-modified organisms that do not resemble food at all. I’m tired of watching species of life disappear, of honey bees struggling to exist. I’m tired of seeing advertisements for prescriptions that cause more maladies than the illnesses, or conditions, they were supposedly developed to alleviate. Our modern day lifestyle, the systems that have been put in place, make us vulnerable to them. This Covid-19 pandemic has shown us that. The power outages following each hurricane, tornado, or other natural disaster have shown us that, too. How many of us have friends or family members, especially the elderly, who start taking one pill for, say, high blood pressure then have to take another pill for bloating, or water retention, and then another as cholesterol skyrockets, etc?

Yeah, a bit of a rant today. I’m beating my head into the wall, preaching to the choir, because there are many things that I cannot change no matter how much I rant and rave, and seek to fight an uphill battle.

That doesn’t mean I give up entirely though.

My dream home has a hearth in the kitchen. It requires a hand-pump to draw water up from the well. It has a spinning wheel and a loom, a loom tool and a few niddy-noddies. It has a dough box for starting bread to rise. And a hand wringer for doing my laundry. It is lit with candles and/or oil lamps, and has a composting toilet if allowed (this last is often prohibited in many towns across the nation). My dream home is small and well-insulated with natural fibers, but sits on land large enough to support a decent-sized herd of goats for both fiber and dairy, sheep, chickens, ducks, honey bees and rabbits. There is a large herb and vegetable garden; a couple of greenhouses and/or hoop houses for year-round growing and for warm-climate spices. My dream home has an agility course because there are Border Collies sharing that home, too. Maybe there’s even a small pond for my ducks and geese, and for paddling a canoe once in awhile, because being on the water is such a great way to relax…even for those of us who cannot swim(!).

The yearning for such a life comes about as I navigate through this zoning and foreclosure nightmare I’ve been swimming through for too long now, always circling back to it just when I think I’ve finally got it licked. It’s where I go to escape, or better yet, to manifest? I know much of this is beyond me as building codes require certain regulations to be met, but to the extent I can get away with and still remain within the law, this is where I hope to go.

For too long now, a peaceful, simple, fairly self-sufficient life has been a dream only. I’m tired of the rat race. It’s time to live the life I was meant to live, a life lived with intention. And I pray the same thing for each and every soul reading this post…no matter how different your intentional life is from mine.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animal Rights, Animals, Appreciation, Bereavement, Christianity, Emergency Preparedness, Enlightenment, Faith, Family, Forgiveness, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Homesteading, Love, Minimalism, Nature, Open-mindedness, Politics, Prayer

Moving On Up?

Lisa Burbank

“Let not your heart be troubled. You are trusting God, now trust in Me. There are many homes up there where my Father lives, and I am going to prepare them for your coming. When everything is ready, then I will come and get you, so that you can always be with me where I am.” (John 14:1-3)

The Herbal Hare Homestead may be moving. In fact, I believe it is almost a certainty. I’m not sure where. Or exactly when. I definitely don’t know how but I feel like He has been conking me over the head repeatedly, one hardship after another here, to finally light that fire under my backside so that I start actively looking.

And planning.

And taking one step after the other, trusting Him to see us all through.

A couple of weeks ago I received a letter from the local zoning officer. One of my neighbors complained about my roosters crowing. And they don’t like living next to ducks either.

Now before anyone jumps in with recriminations, before I ever brought chickens, ducks, or goats to this property I contacted the zoning office and then a zoning attorney. Strictly speaking, this is considered part of the commercial district of town, even as the whole town is zoned agricultural. However, after reviewing my deed, the attorney determined I didn’t need to get a variance or anything because the property has grandfathered use. He did warn it could be challenged but, to safeguard that, I wrote a letter detailing my plans here, made copies, and got each and every one of my neighbors’ signatures that they were okay with me raising these animals. I promised not to include a buck as they smell bad. I also have a doctor’s note stating that I’m supposed to be drinking goat’s milk.

Fortunately, I save everything.

Unfortunately, we have new neighbors. They didn’t sign that letter. And I get it…even if we were here first. The country is NOT as quiet as one thinks if one has never lived in the country before. And I will not be the first homesteader to be adversely affected by the city-slicker-turned-country-wannabe.

Ironically, there was no mention about the goats in their complaint. It was the crowing of roosters and, apparently, the occasional honking-quack from some of my female ducks when the males are being overly-amorous that my new neighbors are protesting.

We also have a new zoning officer, who is a delightful woman, and we hit it off immediately. She raised sheep until her husband’s passing last year; it liked to have killed her to give them to another farm but she was unable to care for them by herself, owing to some health issues of her own, so she was sympathetic to my plight. But she also has a job to do. Having worked for a local municipality last fall as a temp, I got to witness first-hand the b.s. stories people fabricate when they knowingly violate a zoning regulation. I think the new zoning officer thought that’s what I was about when I called her in response to her letter and told her I’d had a zoning attorney out here 11 years’ ago. When I was able to show her the doctor’s note and the signed letters from all of my neighbors stating they approved of my raising these animals, I saw her expression change to one of even deeper sympathy…and a sudden willingness to push back against these complaints. This was not the usual b.s. but someone who actually took the steps to do this all legally and ethically…and who willingly allowed her access to inspect the premises without giving her a hard time about it (That’s the key, folks! Work with, not against…even if the outcome isn’t exactly what you’d hoped it would be).

She read the letter, checked each address to ensure that each of the homes directly affected were included, then inspected the barn (I hadn’t built or added another building but re-purposed one that already existed here when I purchased the property in 2001). She inspected the animals, too, and wrote in her report that they were happy and well cared for. As she was a farmer previously, there was a moment’s pride that she found no fault with any of them. Though there is no pond here, there is a large kiddie pool for the ducks with a ramp for easy access in and out of it. There’s a 6-foot chain link fence to keep them all from roaming off-site…and for keeping predators out. That Chester (goat) came over and immediately rubbed his face all up and down her leg for affection said volumes about how well they are cared for.

Will she be able to swing it so my babies can stay?

There’s no way of knowing just yet. And she did say the roosters would have to go but, if I showed a willingness to comply with this one part of it, this new neighbor might relent about the rest. But, there’s a big part of me saying, do I have to go through this every time I get a new neighbor??? Do I have to perpetually fight to keep what matters most to me outside of faith and family? And, to be honest, I regard my animals as part of the family.

So I’m looking further afield, further ahead.

The animals may go to a friend’s farm as boarders until I can scrape together enough for that relocation. I’m thinking Maine, upper-state New York, Vermont…maybe Tennessee (though I would hate the heat!), as my brother and his family live there so we would have family nearby. It would be nice to see them more than every couple of years when we can afford to travel. And I will be looking for farm land…or at least a property that is actually zoned for agricultural use, or maybe an unincorporated town where there aren’t any zoning regulations. They’re few and far between but it’s worth looking into.

Of course, my main concern is how to finance all of this. Before the pandemic, I was staring foreclosure in the face owing to an injury in January 2019, a subsequent job loss, and the inability to find full-time work again to sustain us. My credit sucks…no polite way to say it. But, even if I get to keep the animals here, that issue still exists. Will I be able to save the home? Will He provide that job at the last moment? Or will He slide everything into place once I set my sights in the direction He wants me to go?

Because that’s how He works.

When you obey His commands, when you follow His direction, He moves those mountains completely out of the way. So, now I wait, and I do the work I must do in the interim, and in the meantime, I ask for everyone’s prayers. This ain’t going to be easy…

May God bless you & keep you!