Category: Fiber Arts

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

A House Built on Sand

Lisa Burbank

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

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

Nope, I’m not.

But He is.

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

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

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

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

We’ve lost our way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, the United States was founded on Christianity.

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

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

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

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

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

What does all of this have to do with homesteading?

Everything.

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Books, Christianity, Exhaustion, Family, Fiber Arts, Friendship, gardening, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, Plants, Prayer, Prepping, Reading, Religion, Sleep Deprivation, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Writing, Yoga & Fitness

Keeping It Simple

Lisa Burbank

“For God is not a God of confusion, but of peace.” (1 Corinthians 14:33)

I’m feeling my age…and the stress of the past year: navigating, and eventually, mitigating foreclosure; the loss of my beloved aunt and uncle; new job position that I absolutely love but, it also keeps me hopping with an ever-changing schedule; thesis courses demanding 15,000 new words to my first novel to be turned in every 4 weeks. And now, another beloved aunt struggling with health issues. I also have a cat under veterinary care right now and a geriatric goat with some special needs. To say that I am spent would be putting it mildly.

And yet, on the upside, through His grace, I have successfully navigated foreclosure and, at least for the moment, am keeping my home. I am blessed beyond measure to have aunts and uncles that I can call “beloved”. I am also blessed beyond measure in a still-tanking job market to have the job that I do. There’s a certain thrill to see the story in my head and in my heart coming out on paper. And it’s another kind of blessing to have pets to share my world, to care for each day.

But I’m still spent.

I stood up one of my best friends this week for an event that she and I were supposed to attend together. She was worried something bad might’ve happened. Then I forgot I had agreed to cover as Lector last week for a fellow parishioner. Father Ben teased me about it. He wasn’t angry, but I was angry with myself…for both instances.

I either need to simplify, or get better organized. Perhaps it’s a little of both. An accountability partner would be a blessing right now, too, but I can’t have everything…

“The Dream” section of this blog/website is still in my heart. Every time I think of simplifying, another point from that bulleted outline rears up and says, “Don’t forget me!”. And I don’t.

Still, there’s a shifting inside that is looking to modify it a little…at least until I’m through with college.

I’ve blogged before about how I overfill my time. I tend to have “scatter syndrome” from too much “busyness”. I forget things like dates with friends, additional commitments, and even prayer. The flip side is, if I simplify too much, the brain turns to mush and the forgetfulness increases, rather than decreases. I need to find that sweet balance.

Or a staycation where I can do some much-needed spring cleaning that’s nagging at me and get better organized.

But, back to simplifying…if I stay right here in northeastern Connecticut, then The Herbal Hare may get whittled down to what everyone sees in the icon: Bunnies, herbs, and honeybees. I’ve already determined, unless I do find that place in Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire…or Missouri, then Felicity will be my last goat, and the few chickens and ducks I have left, also the last.

And does that ever cut!

But my life has become an endless litany of sacrifices. I sacrifice time with friends to keep up on my studies. I sacrifice writing time to help out somewhere. I sacrifice things like yoga, exercise, time with this blog, etc. to “catch up” on some much needed sleep. And then I beat myself up for not “making” the time for these other things. In short, with my time–and I have only 24 hours a day like everyone else–I am perpetually robbing Peter to pay Paul.

So, it’s time to prioritize. And then, once I’ve graduated, I can re-evaluate.

My priorities are likened to those times that prove, or have proven, to be the most satisfying to my soul:

Time spent in prayer.

Saturday evenings playing cards and Scrabble with Mom.

Chatting with my brother, sister-in-law and nieces on the phone.

Outings with friends to hike through the park, peruse the bookstore, visit a museum, share a meal.

Family get togethers.

Time spent on the water, either cruising the lake on my uncle’s pontoon, or sharing the paddle boat with a cousin or two.

Walks with my dogs…when I had dogs.

Bunny-time…when I had rabbits, the time spent each night in their room letting them free-range outside of their cages. Sometimes I would simply read while they stretched their legs. Most of the time, I laughed at their antics…especially when the cats joined in and all of them played and cuddled together.

When I worked in living history museums, the mornings spent walking through the herb garden I was in charge of with a cuppa tea in hand, deciding what “chores” needed to be done today while stopping to inhale the scents of my favorite plants.

Working in the garden.

Making tinctures, salves, decoctions, infusions, or spice blends.

Spinning wool into yarn, filling the niddy-noddy with it, or weaving new cloth.

Braiding straw with which to make hats.

A whole Sunday spent cooking and baking for the week.

Watching honeybees at work gathering their nectar.

Time spent in the barnyard.

Reading a passage of a book, or story, that I’ve written that came out particularly well.

Reading a good book.

Spending my early mornings with a cuppa tea and working on a blog post.

And, one of the most satisfying moments of my life was about 10 years’ ago. I cooked a simple meal of pasta, salad and bread, topped it off with a cup of hot chocolate. The pasta sauce had come from tomatoes I’d grown from seed and canned. Most of the salad fixings came from my own garden. The bread was made from scratch. And even the marshmallow I’d placed in my hot chocolate had been made from scratch. It was that feeling of accomplishment.

The new job has those moments, too, especially when I’m hosting a writer’s workshop, or a book club, or a knitting/crocheting group and that sense of community ensues.

These are the things that fill me with peace, things I long to get back to. And, anything in The Dream, or in present life, that does not lead me to one (or all) of these ends, will have to go. That’s a tall order, but it’s one worth filling.

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, Books, Christianity, Creativity, Faith, Fiber Arts, gardening, Gratitude, Greenhouse, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, Memories, Plants, Poverty, Prayer, Spices, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Wool, Writing, YouTube

Where He Leads

Lisa Burbank

“Your road led by a pathway through the sea–a pathway no one knew was there!” (Psalms 77:19)

I received a phone call from a realtor a couple of weeks’ ago. It’s not the first offer that I’ve received for my property but, up until this point, they’ve been offers simply to list it and, knowing it’s fixer-upper state, I’ve pretty much ignored the letters and calls.

Until now.

Granted, selling would solve a lot of my financial burdens. Previous realtors talked about “staging” and, in short, wanting to “showcase” it for potential buyers. In its current state, I doubt it would pass an inspection for anyone other than a house flipper. If I had the financial means to make some of the repairs, or the plumbing, carpentry, or construction skills to do it myself, it wouldn’t be where it is in the first place and I probably would’ve sold years’ ago.

This guy was different. After total transparency on my part: it needs a new roof, new gutters, a new hot water tank (we haven’t had running hot water since last November), a new water softener (buying in water every couple of days for humans, goats, chickens and ducks to drink is breaking the proverbial bank), some electrical work, the foundation repaired, and the back door doesn’t close properly due to too much settling, this realtor tells me his interest is in its commercial value. He would like to see the property, of course, but his plan is to remove the house and rebuild for commercial use.

This looks hopeful. There’s even a chance of recouping some of the equity in the home to start over again.

It is also bittersweet. On the one hand, I’m feeling a sense of hope that maybe I have a future after all…beyond pitching a tent in the woods somewhere. There’s an impending sense of relief to be free of the roller coaster emotional ride that foreclosure mediation inevitably brings. On the other hand, I’ve lived here for over 20 years. There are a lot of memories, both happy and sad, and the dreams I had for this place that have never been realized due to the financial burdens that started with the Great Recession and appear to be ending with the current recession. I have many beloved pets buried here, too. I hate the thought of them being paved over or dug up.

However, I’m also seeing how limited I would be to make those dreams a reality even if I stayed. There’s still the zoning issue to resolve…and no guarantee it will go in my favor. The property isn’t big enough to accomplish what I have in mind. There’s no parking for that second-hand book store. No room to grow things like flax or rye straw, or cash crops like elderberries. No pasture for the number of fiber-producing animals that I’d need to raise to truly become “The Herbal Hare Tomestead and Animal Sanctuary: Home of Misfit Animals and Books, and Makers of Herbal, Apian, and Natural Fiber Products”.

“Leaf It To the Goats” isn’t even on the radar here.

I could go much smaller, of course. I could be content with turning much of this almost-acre into an extensive herb garden, maybe add a small greenhouse for warmth-loving spices, like cardamom and turmeric. I could still grow microgreens, maybe get into growing mushrooms. There’s a planned YouTube channel, regardless of where we land, and I could still produce it here as its main focus will be herbs. I could be content with rabbits, maybe a couple of Angora goats (if I won the zoning case), for spinning. And honeybees don’t take much room. However, the latter haven’t done well here. I think it’s in part because I’m so close to a major interstate; they don’t have much of a “fly zone”. But I’ve also heard from more seasoned beekeepers that it can take years to get an apiary up and running…and there’s always Colony Collapse to contend with today. It’s not a bad plan and would leave more room for writing (always a plus).

In short, I’m leaving it all in His hands. I will be calling the realtor later today to schedule a visit. I’m also waiting to hear if I’ve gotten the director’s position I applied for at the library where I work. I had the interview on Friday. I’m hoping I hear something before my foreclosure hearing on Monday. This could be the definitive moment. As the salary of a director is considerably higher than a part-time librarian’s it might be enough to modify.

Again, it’s in His hands. I know what I’d like to do. And I have contingency plans. But, in the end, it’s His plan that truly matters. Talk about one’s faith being challenged.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS Please keep the prayers & positive thoughts/energy coming. And I would be eternally grateful if you would share the Go Fund Me link below. Praise the Lord!

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

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

Getting to the Starting Line

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

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

Yeah, it’s the itchy little thorn scenario.

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

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

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

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

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Animals, Art, Books, Christianity, Climate Change, Creativity, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Fiber Arts, gardening, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Heavy Metal Music, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Memories, Music, Plants, Poverty, Social Media, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Writing, Yoga & Fitness, YouTube

Which Way Do We Go, Which Way Do We Go?

Lisa Burbank

Rest in the Lord; wait patiently for Him to act. Don’t be envious of evil men who prosper. (Psalms 37:7)

Scatter Syndrome (skah’ ter sin drohm) 1. The inability to focus on that one thing owing to the over-eagerness of having so many options. 2. When the mind leaps from one option or opportunity to the next like a squirrel leaping from branch to branch in a tree. 3. The anxiety and subsequent exhaustion that results from considering too many of those options at once to the point of being overwhelmed and then getting absolutely NOTHING done so you crawl off feeling like a failure again. 4. All of the above.

No, I don’t believe that’s really a term. And I can’t claim I just made it up either because I got it from a friend. However, I’d like to think I’m at least one of the first to formally give it a potential dictionary meaning.

Now that I’ve graduated college with a Bachelor’s of Art in Creative Writing with an Emphasis on Fictional Writing, the world, supposedly, is at my feet. At least that’s what all the recruiters tell you as you sign the agreement at said university. In addition to a multitude of creative writing workshops, grammar and composition, literature, poetry and linguistics, I studied grant writing, business writing, entrepreneurship, art, advertising, and, of course, environmental science. This last encompassed the bulk of my electives.

So, where do I go now?

Of course, my main objective is to finish my book. But, in the meantime, I’m thinking I need to focus on some other aspects of writing, such as short stories, articles, etc. that I can finish quickly and send off to a potential editor for publication. I’m trying to focus on my writing as a business as much as an art. Though I’m leaning more towards self-publishing where my book is concerned, I would like to get my name out there. And, who knows? Maybe, in time, I’ll land a publishing deal after all.

Get an agent.

That was a steady stream of advise from nearly every college professor. But, as someone who is staring down the road to foreclosure right now (I’m behind more than the amount for which the Go Fund Me campaign was created), paying said agent would be next to impossible.

Then there is the zoning issue that I’ve recently come up against so that even if I could get right-side up on the mortgage, I would have to forfeit the heart of this homestead (the animals who share it with me) in order to stay. The attorney I consulted with over a decade ago–before I brought home my first dozen chicks and ducklings–either gave me some bad advise, or this new neighbor is throwing his weight around at the town hall. The attorney costs money, too. As does relocation. So, some of that scatter syndrome probably stems from the pressure to produce and succeed in a hurry. And it doesn’t help that his wife hides in the bushes bordering our two properties, craning her neck for…something? Gladys Kravitz has reincarnated. Maybe it’s time to twitch my nose and find my inner Samantha Stevens.

Financial challenges aside, yes, I do want to focus on my book, on my writing, first and foremost. But there’s also the homesteading and prepping that started years ago and all the myriad directions that I’d love to take it. There’s the original premise for The Herbal Hare: a business producing herbal, apian, and hand-spun/woven fiber products. There’s a second-hand spinning wheel downstairs that needs some TLC to get it moving again. It’s not the Walking/Great Wheel that I learned on and dream of owning, but it has potential…even if I do not have the fiber-producing animals yet. A loom and loom tool (smaller spinning wheel used for filling bobbins for the shuttle) are beyond me right now, but definitely hovering on the radar. There’s a shed full of bee equipment gathering dust. And dozens of seed packets and catalogs to plant that extensive herb garden for making those herbal products, selling plants and seeds, and teaching workshops on herbs. I’m even considering a YouTube channel for the same. I’d like to add some microgreens and sprouts to the list in time. There are visions of a market garden down the road. And a small garden patch planted with rye for drying and braiding the straw for making hats–a skill I never would have guessed at, a gift from my time in living history. As is the interest in lace making, which I have also tried and proven to have some proficiency in producing.

There’s an easel gathering dust. And a stack of books checked out from the library, where I currently work part-time, focused on drawing and art. There’s a guitar, amp, and Appalachian dulcimer equally dusty. Can I do something with either of those? I have a good voice. I spent over a decade fronting metal bands and I’ve served as both a member of our church choir and Lector for many years. (And, damn, if I don’t regret not taking a public speaking class during my tenure at SNHU…if it was even offered via online learning). I’m thinking voiceovers…albeit, that would require equipment I can’t afford at present, another agent, and it would take away much of the energy that I should be focusing on writing.

See? Scatter Syndrome. Twenty different directions to take and continuing to circle back to my true passion: writing, and the very real need to secure home and hearth before too much more time elapses. If this keeps up, I may find myself 90 years old and still circling.

Sigh.

Despite all of this circling, I rearranged the upstairs of my house. I used to have my office in the center bedroom where I painted a mural on the wall depicting a homestead with those fiber-producing animals, an extensive herb garden, lots of bee hives, and me standing triumphant in front of a PC whose screen shouts “BEST SELLER”. As the holistic woo-woo guru, I thought it might aid in manifesting my dreams but, I feel like it has kept me stagnant. The original intent when I painted it was to paint a house that resembled my paternal grandparents’ house, as it will forever be my happy place. I remember my irritation that I couldn’t quite get the roof line correct and, not wanting to wreck something that would forever be displayed on the wall of my house, I left it slightly “off” and continued on. Over the last couple of years since I painted it, I’ve realized that despite the white with black trim color scheme, and the dormer windows, that skewered roof line is this roof line…as is the positioning of the barn with my current barn. If it wasn’t for the new neighbor, I could have this dream here. There’s room enough. But alas…

Another sigh.

So, I’ve moved the office. And there’s a white board awaiting it’s first assignment in getting that much closer to my dreams…once I kick ol’ Scatter Syndrome to the curb and discipline that focus in its place.

May God bless you & keep you!

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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!

19th century, Animal Rights, Animals, Books, Christianity, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Climate Change, ecosystems, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Fiber Arts, Fleece, gardening, God/Jesus, Herbs, Homesteading, Human rights, Open-mindedness, Plants, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Spices, Spinning, Weaving, Wool, Writing

Running the Gamut

Lisa Burbank

“He shall judge between many peoples and impose terms on strong and distant nations; they beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again. Every man shall sit under his own vine or under his own fig tree, undisturbed; for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken” (Micah 4:3-4)

Looking at the number of weeks since my last post, I am appalled that I have allowed this latest legal “drama” to derail me from everything else in my life. And that’s literally what has been happening. I have run the gamut of emotions: anger, outrage, sorrow. I feel betrayed by my local government who refuses to honor the work I did in 2009. I feel betrayed by the zoning attorney who may have given me some bad advice, which I acted upon, and who has set the bar (no pun intended) for any further interaction with another zoning attorney going forward. And yet, should I lay down and let this new neighbor walk all over me, force me out of my home entirely?

Of course, there are still the financial issues to deal with. I’m behind over a year. In order to turn this mortgage thing around, I would need to magically find at least $25,000 to get out of hock and, at this point, if I did magically find it, I would likely use it as a down payment in a more farm-friendly community. Why throw money away if there’s no certainty that I will win my case against this new neighbor?

So, to that end, I’ve looked at a site called Billy Land that has mixed reviews and may take longer than I have to finalize any deals. I’m keeping it on a back burner but it’s not my first choice of options. I’ve been looking into buying just land, with Mom and I considering boon-docking in a second-hand RV until we can afford to build a home. Not every town will allow it but, again, our focus has been unincorporated townships where there aren’t any zoning regulations. Maine still has a few of these and I’m sure there are others. Owner-financing is another possibility. We would need a decent down-payment so I’m focusing on saving as much as I can towards that end. But it’s a harrowing ride.

My chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) is off the Richter scale. Amazingly, the other stress-related health issues are seemingly okay but the CFS is biting me in the backside. It’s been a struggle to stay on top of things, and I confess to failing miserably. Of course, there is also the very real fatigue–hence, its name–to factor in that, once triggered, I have little control over. It, too, has to run the proverbial gamut. (I vaguely remember asking the Lord to teach me patience…is He ever!)

More mainstream-minded individuals would advise re-homing everyone permanently and just sucking up the heartache while re-doubling my efforts to get right-side up on the mortgage. But I am as far from a mainstream mindset as one can get when it comes to my animals. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes my reason for being, my reason for wanting to homestead in the first place; the heart will just go out of me. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes the myriad cottage industries I’ve been trying to build to get off the mainstream grind, or at least to supplement the part-time income that seems to be the norm in today’s economy. With the loss of my goats, chickens and ducks, goes every hope and dream I possess.

Yes, I am a writer. Despite everything I’ve written above, I’ve chosen to “escape” for an hour or two each day by focusing on better character and plot development for my book. I’ve also started journaling again. Both have been extremely therapeutic while I navigate these troubled waters. Finishing my book and getting it published, possibly having a career as a writer that I can take anywhere I go in this world, is the ultimate.

But that’s only part of the dream.

As anyone who has been following this blog for a while knows, I worked in living history for a number of years. First, as a volunteer, and then as a paid staff member. The Herbal Hare isn’t just the name of this blog and this homestead, it’s also a future business venture making and selling herbal, apian and natural fiber products. I learned spinning and weaving while working in living history. The goal has been to grow as many of the herbs as this climate will support, maybe extend to adding a greenhouse in the future for growing spices and warmth-loving herbs, to raise honey bees and start a pollinator garden, and to raise animals for fiber, such as goats, sheep and Angora rabbits. All of these animals would require regular shearing but this would not harm them in any way. In fact, the opposite would be true because sheep and Angora goats and rabbits will develop a fungus on their skin if one does not shear them. Their fiber would be spun to make yarn and, as a tie in with the herbs, my herb garden would also grow many of the plants earlier generations used for dyes, like French marigolds, wild indigo, and Queen Anne’s lace.

Of course, there is also a much larger dream that this homestead will not support even if I can swing zoning and get the mortgage right-side up again: the dream of using goats to clear land. I would need a much larger herd than I currently possess…and more land to support that larger herd through the winter months when using living brush hogs isn’t an option. There are lot of these operations out West where forest fires are more prevalent but, here in New England, they’re few and far between. Goats are an eco-friendly way of mitigating forest fires because goats will eat the “fuel” for those fires: the heavy brush and undergrowth. They are also effective for removing overgrowth along highways and byways where steep inclines might be prohibitive for larger, heavier equipment. Or for clearing land for new building and development. Goats are incredibly agile and can make short work of such jobs without the noise, the fossil fuel pollution, or soil compaction that heavy equipment ultimately brings. Instead, they’re liable to leave behind some natural fertilizer as an extra bonus.

How’s that for a sales’ pitch?

Maybe it’s time to quit running another gamut of emotions: the fear and insecurity that has kept me from reaching for these dreams. Maybe it’s time to put to use the grant writing skills I’ve developed throughout my tenure in college these last 7 years and look for some angel investors. Maybe it’s also time to put my faith to the test and see if that door really will open when I knock upon it.

May God bless you & keep you!

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These Dreams…

Lisa Burbank

“As a hungry man dreams of eating, but is still hungry, and as a thirsty man dreams of drinking, but is still faint from thirst when he wakes up, so your enemies will dream of victorious conquest, but all to no avail.” (Isaiah 29:8)

I am grateful for this Covid-19 shutdown.

No, I haven’t lost my marbles. I know people are sick, dying, or have lost loved ones to this pandemic. I would be an insensitive clod to be grateful for that. Far too many people also don’t know where their next meal, or rent/mortgage payment, is coming from while they wait until it is truly safe to venture out again in numbers greater than 10. Without some serious assistance from our government, which doesn’t seem to be forthcoming anytime soon, far too many people are at risk of losing their homes. I’m not grateful for that either.

What I am grateful for is the stop of nearly everything “normal” in life.

You see, somehow along the line my life got “stuck” in survival mode. It’s been driven by purpose, by necessity, by the sheer panic that a potential foreclosure can instill in someone. Yes, I write my blog, my book, take care of my animals during “normal” times. Mom and I play games together, too, when there isn’t a pandemic.

But I don’t “stop”.

I can’t remember the last time I just sat and listened to music. Not while I’m playing games or doing housework, but just sat and listened. And dreamed. I can’t remember the last time that I woke up without an alarm and got to lay there and…yes, dream. Where do I want to go? What do I really want to do this day?

Daydreams…

Imaginings…

Manifesting…

Planning for the future…

During this crazy pandemic, I’ve actually been thinking about a future again. I’m looking at what I have, where I want to go, and allowing myself to dream about it…sort of like I did when I was a young girl just starting out in life with everything open before me. That is a gift, if we will only choose to look at it as such.

No, I don’t plan on wasting a whole day doing nothing but dreaming, but allowing one’s self to dream from time to time, actually opens our imagination. We start thinking about making the impossible, well, possible.

So, what do I dream about? What do I see when that imagination opens up?

Besides a few novels gracing the best sellers’ list, I’m imagining how my whole front lawn is going to look once I’m done landscaping. I’m envisioning all manner of herbs, small fruits, vegetables and flowers…a veritable food and medicinal forest. I’m seeing a stand along the roadside with cut flowers, herbs and plants for sale. I’m imagining that other half-acre fenced in and providing more ranging space for the goats, chickens and ducks. I see an agility course and several Border and Bearded Collies, and Welsh Corgis, running through lickety-split. I’m dreaming of a Great Wheel, a loom and a loom tool (another type of spinning wheel), and a number of Angora rabbits and goats providing fiber for spinning and weaving.

Sometimes, though, that dream isn’t here, but in another place…kind of murky and undefined, but larger, with room for more goats, and sheep. I see some greenhouses for growing spices, like cardamom and turmeric, year-round. I’m envisioning an aquaponics’ system and racks of microgreens and sprouts. When I’m really being far out, I see a greenhouse full of mulberries and silkworms…and the necessary apparatus for spinning their silken threads. I’m thinking of a thriving Reflexology practice–not just the occasional client–and herb classes hosted in my own extensive herb garden.

More, I dream of hosting potlucks and quiet nights spent with loved ones around a campfire.

Yes, all of this probably demands more energy, time, etc. than I have these days. This run-down, ramshackle abode has become a money pit; it would take too much to make such happen. Or would it? Maybe what it needs is simply for me to take a few more steps forward…and to really start thinking about that transition from impossible to possible.

That’s another thing to be thankful for: I have some time on my hands to do some of the work for those things I can do here and now. And I’m being honest enough with myself that I may not get all that I’d like to accomplish done, but I can certainly make a dent in it.

In the meantime, I’m enjoying not having to make a mad dash through life. We’ve got to take the silver linings where we can find them.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Stay tuned…

Lisa Burbank

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

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