Category: Friendship

Abuse, Alcoholism, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Community, Compassion, Enlightenment, Faith, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, God/Jesus, Healing, Love, Politics, Prayer, Self-improvement, Understanding

Avoidance and 30-Day Snoozes

Lisa Burbank

“And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men: knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.” (Colossians 3:23-24)

Another three day weekend and, of course, I made plans–plans to get a lot of chores done that I’ve been putting off, daunted by the enormity of them. I think it was Mother Teresa who said: “You want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans.”

No, nothing catastrophic. Instead of making a huge dent in some of those chores, it may be more of a small dimple. Instead of hustling after church yesterday, I made a second cup of tea and curled up with a book that I’ve read skeighty-eight hundred times before…because, well, avoidance. I am plagued with it.

Yes, Sunday is a day of rest. And I do feel more energized with having given myself that bit of “rest” but, of course, the guilt complex threatens to take over: should-of, could-of, would-of.

I think that falls under the sin of pride category.

Or vanity…

Maybe both?

I almost bowed out of going to church yesterday (gasp!). But, in the end, I decided I needed a true day of rest. Not avoiding the service altogether, but simply enjoying it for itself. I wasn’t serving as either Lector or Eucharistic Minister yesterday. The choir wasn’t singing the Mass this week. I had no responsibility other than to sit and listen to His Word.

And that’s what He wanted me to do.

This is what happens with avoidance, with procrastination, etc. I miss out on life’s blessings. And yesterday’s homily went straight to my heart from His. Had I stayed home instead of attending, I would’ve missed this important message.

It was all about humility, of being humble enough to accept one’s limitations, of not needing the last word or constantly trying to trump another person.

Having been brought up in a household with alcoholism and abuse, I tend to avoid conflict at all costs. I may post memes and articles on social media that are a little provocative, but I try to be sensitive of others. Still, what I post does open the proverbial can of worms from time to time…even unintentionally. I’ve learned that anyone posting a snarky response to those posts doesn’t really care what I have to say in defense. They’re not interested in compromise or reconciliation. I’ve learned that nobody truly wants to know why you voted the way you did…except to tell you that they’re right and you’re wrong. They don’t want to know the issues at your core that you simply cannot compromise on. Often, I find myself getting caught up, as guilty as I charge others, provoked by accusations and insults, and getting tied up in knots along the way.

Divide. Divide. DIVIDE…isn’t that the adversary’s way?

What should be hailed as a brilliant means of reconnecting with old friends and classmates we’ve lost touch with, or family members who live too far away for regular visits, the adversary has twisted towards his own end. I’ve posted before about being unable to see the person on the other side of the keyboard, to read expression, or hear the tone of voice, to emphasize with that person in any way. Social media has turned us all into budding narcissists, focused on self rather than community…rather than focusing on the One we should be focused on.

Did I mention I hate conflict?

Sometimes it is unavoidable. But, with social media, it is almost always avoidable. I don’t have to engage. I don’t have to have the last word. I don’t have to leave my own snarky remarks. I’ve learned to weigh carefully what I post, or share, so as to avoid any conflict…and, again, it still happens. I’ve worn out the 30-day snooze feature on Facebook. I refuse to give up on anyone simply over a difference of opinion so I seldom, if ever, “block” or “unfriend” someone. But, there are some friends from whom the vitriol flows like the mighty Mississippi…and, sadly, that small handful gets “snoozed” repeatedly. It’s a way of setting some boundaries without shunning someone entirely. Social media also tends to breed cyber-bullies.

One friend who might fall into this last category came to church yesterday. I watched her walk in and take a seat on the opposite side of the aisle. About this time last year, it was almost like she waited for me to post something about which she could brow-beat and bully me…and then any friends or family members who came to my defense.

For a moment, a sneer and a snarky thought reared up inside of me…then Father Ben launched into his homily. Bulls’ eye!

That inner sneer and snarky thought pattern is on me…not her. The realization almost broadsided me. No matter how much she may have cyber-stalked and bullied, it takes two to make or break a relationship. What have I done to contribute to any break between us? I felt the sting of shame as I thought of other sneers and snarky remarks aimed in her direction. This was no way to treat a friend.

I tried to catch her eye during the meet-and-greet (it has another name that escapes me at the moment…) just before Communion. Either she didn’t see me, or chose to avoid me. I thought back to all of the times I’d tried to reach out to her after Mass before, and how it always seemed to escalate into more of the same as on social media with each of us beating our heads into the proverbial brick wall, hoping to get the other to see the light in each other’s views. I heard again the lines from the Prayer of St. Francis: “O Master, grant that I may never seek so much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand…”

Could I approach her with that kind of humility? Could I approach her with ears, mind, and heart to listen without judgement? Could I have a conversation with her without having to be right? I spent the rest of the Mass in quiet soul searching, finally hearing that still, small voice saying to leave it alone…for now. Give it time.

In the end, she left church as swiftly as she came in and averted her gaze from me as her car passed mine in the parking lot.

She’s not ready. Maybe neither of us are. Maybe any conversation would’ve escalated just as before…no matter any good intentions to the contrary. That old adage about not talking politics or religion is apt.

That still, small voice spoke Truth, as it always does. Leave it alone. Let it go. For once, I allowed myself the grace of taking that step back and listening, really listening to that Truth. That’s something we all need to do more often. Put down the phone. Walk away from the screens (yes, even this one…lol!) and the drama within them. Stop filling every waking hour with busy-ness and noise. It’s okay to just sit quietly. To pray. To think. To listen. To dream.

To simply BE.

What Truth is He laying on your heart today? Are you bold enough to listen?

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Alcoholism, Bereavement, Christianity, Forgiveness, Friendship, Grief, Healing, Humanity First, Love, Memories, Politics, Prayer, Scripture, Self-esteem, Tradition, Understanding

It’s An Age Thing

Lisa Burbank

“The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the Lord is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.” (Psalm 92:12-15)

I turned 58 last Wednesday. Not a milestone of any kind, and a day like any other. The many Facebook posts and text messages wishing me a “Happy Birthday!” were about the only occasions to mark it (outside of dinner on Sunday with Mom and a friend). None of this is a lamentation of any kind. I am grateful for all the well-wishing. But, damn, if I don’t feel every inch of those 58 years these days!

Aside from the usual aches and pains that accompany aging…especially those of us who have long abandoned our yoga practice…it’s the heartache that also accompanies this aging process. As the old saying goes: “Growing old ain’t for sissies!”

It’s the faces no longer here, which seems to occur with more rapidity as the years advance. It’s also the changes in relationships.

And, along those veins, a lamentation against modern technology and the havoc it can wreak. I.e. We are far more open about our thoughts and feelings on social media than we are in person. We say things maybe we wouldn’t. And, for those of us who have always been the dour church mouse in the corner, we speak up for ourselves where, in person, we’d probably continue to take the verbal abuse.

My bestie since middle school unfriended me because she didn’t agree with whom I cast my vote for in the presidential election. That’s her right not to agree with my choice. But it was the insinuation posted on Facebook that she wouldn’t trust old friends with the whereabouts of Anne Frank that stung. I haven’t become this racist, homophobe, wannabe fascist because my more conservative side has emerged in the face of certain social changes. Whatever your skin tone, religious beliefs, country of origin, gender, or sexual orientation, you are welcome at my table as a friend…and always will be. If someone slights you because of who you are, I will still fight by your side for fair treatment. As long as you treat me and mine with the same respect and courtesy, that will never change. I will add whatever your political views to the list above, too.

I don’t care about any of that. I care about YOU.

There’s been a lot of reflection this past week. And a realization that my bestie hasn’t picked up the phone to call me just to chat in almost 10 years. I assumed it had to do with the “convenience” of social media. But, over the years, my calls to her have almost always gone to voicemail…and never a returned call. Those rare times that she has answered, it was as though she couldn’t wait to get off the phone again. I’ve wracked my brain for some sort of incident that might have precluded this behavior. We’ve never had an angry exchange of words. And I’ve never known my bestie to be shy about expressing her feelings…even before social media.

I could be entirely barking up the wrong tree: she got married about 10 years ago. For those new to the blog, I grew up with a stepfather who, to keep it G-rated, wanted a little too much to do with me. He was also an alcoholic and, when under the influence, would fly into rages. Little by little, he pulled Mom away from the influence of others in her life: friends, family members. I can’t help wondering, when looking back over these recent years, if my voting preferences weren’t simply a final excuse to cut me out of her life…because maybe her new husband is doing what my stepfather did and constantly reminding her of “offenses” that were never really offenses to pull her away from others (i.e. a control issue).

The changes in our relationship over the years haven’t been lost on me but, knowing how strong of an inferiority complex I have from the aforementioned childhood, I’ve always assumed maybe I was being overly-sensitive. I’ve always trusted that our friendship was solid enough that, if there was ever a real problem between us, we could talk about it.

The other possibility is she’s afraid of saying something more hurtful and destroying the relationship altogether. And I’ll give her that. It’s a rather childish response, and a hurtful one, but I can accept it.

I just hope she knows I’m still here if she needs a friend to talk to (incidentally, my bestie and I live half a continent away from each other…not exactly a ride across town to see what’s up) if my earlier suspicions are correct.

These are the complexities of getting older, of seeing friendships change…some for the better, some withering away. It’s especially heartbreaking in this age of advanced technology that, while it has its uses, like everything, it also has its evil side. Relationships are always changing and evolving, always has been that way, but today, it’s much easier to slam the cyber door shut than it was the physical one in generations’ past.

I love my bestie. I love a lot of other friends who have gotten angry over my recent political choices. We don’t have to agree with each other, but we should be willing to look past those differences of opinion to the person inside. When we shut our hearts, and our minds…and our screens…against any effort to understand at all the what and why that may be driving those choices, we open the door to the adversary even more broadly. With today’s technology, he’s wringing his hands with glee and ecstasy the more divided we become…as individuals, as a nation, as a world on the cusp of nuclear war.

I hate how complex life seems to get the older I get. I feel my age more and more as the world changes around me…and feel a sense of rebellion against it. I understand my parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles more as I age, the clinging on to fond memories…and the feeling of being forgotten by a society that scoffs at those memories.

My door is still open to my bestie. My hope and prayer is that, once the mad fades away with time, she’ll “friend” me again, answer my calls and/or return them. If she needs a friend to talk to, I hope she knows, I will always be there for her. Perhaps she won’t understand it, will mock me as a door mat, or some such. She doesn’t seem to understand the concept of forgiveness, of loving the whole person despite their sins. She’s an atheist to this born-again Christian, so perhaps this was bound to happen with such a differing worldview. But I will always love her…despite those differences.

That’s one of the many blessings of getting older: you understand what matters most. It’s the people who share all those memories, who share however many trips around the sun we get to travel in this life that matter. And, because they do, I refuse to close that cyber door in return…or any physical doors. Life is too short.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Community, Friendship, gardening, Herbs, Homesteading, Minimalism, Nature, No-dig Gardening, Plants, Prepping, Scripture, Tradition, Wild Edibles

Locusts and Honey

Lisa Burbank

“Now John wore a garment of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey.” (Matthew 3:4)

I see John the Baptist as more of the doomsday prepper type than a homesteader in the Bible, yet his simple lifestyle as described in Matthew 3 above serves as an inspiration to anyone who walks this path. “Simple” is the operative word. We don’t need much. We don’t need fancy gadgets or expensive anything. We need the basics of food, clothing, and shelter, and as we walk this walk, we find our tribe, our community of support. That’s important, too.

I found a member of that tribe many years ago when I worked in living history. We’ve never “hung out” together. Rare have we socialized outside of our shared living history employment, but we also share a passion for growing food and medicine, and living a simpler life. He was my mentor when I served as a volunteer docent in the herb garden there. And he taught me a lot.

This weekend, Mom, Robert and I traveled over an hour and 20 minutes (in New England, that’s a long drive…chuckle!) to listen to a talk of his about preserving the harvest without electricity. Using time-honored practices of root cellaring, fermenting, and drying, he reminded me of so much that I had learned while working in living history, but he also had some modern adaptations for those of us without a root cellar. Who knew an old Styrofoam cooler filled with damp leaves could be just as effective, if not better, than a wooden box in a basement filled with wet sand for preserving carrots and parsnips?

However, the real reason we drove all that way (Bless you, Robert, for piloting that drive!) wasn’t so much about the talk, though that was informative and interesting. Instead, it was to pick up some seeds for planting here at The Herbal Hare Tomestead (No, that’s not a typo; writer & librarian here).

You see, Rich worked for the American Chestnut Foundation (ACF) for many years helping to revive and restore the American Chestnut, which was decimated by chestnut blight, a fungal disease that spread quickly throughout our Eastern forests in the early-20th century, making it extremely difficult for the trees to reproduce, migrate and evolve. ACF has been working towards a blight-resistant American chestnut tree for many years (learn more here: https://tacf.org).

Roasted chestnuts are delicious. Though a tree nut, they taste a bit like a baked sweet potato. They’re also good for you. They’re a great source of fiber, which is good for digestion. They can help control blood sugar levels as they are low on the glycemic index. They contain antioxidants and minerals, such as magnesium and potassium, which can reduce the risk of heart disease and stroke, and manganese, which can reduce the risk of cancer. They also contain copper to strengthen our bones and give a boost to the immunity system, and are loaded with B vitamins, which can help balance our nervous system and improve our brain function. They’re also gluten-free and help reduce inflammation.

Chestnuts were an important food in generations’ past. One healthy tree can produce, on average, up to 60 lbs. of nuts per year when fully mature (at about 20 years), but they start producing as early as 3-5 years. Hence, my desire to plant some here.

The Herbal Hare Tomestead is quite small at the moment (just under 1 acre). I don’t have room for the traditional fields of corn or wheat or rye (although I may grow a small patch of the latter at some point; more on that later). At present, I’m working towards raised beds for much of my herbs and vegetables, and a possible food forest where there is an overgrown half-acre filled with invasive species, such as Norway maples, Oriental bittersweet and Japanese knotweed. These last will have to be dealt with before planting, and maintained so they do not grow back, but the vision I have is possible with a lot of careful planning. I’m looking forward to the challenge.

I doubt I’ll be eating any locusts anytime soon (although I’ve heard they’re also delicious when roasted), but raising honey bees again is also part of the plan. And a food forest? Well, what better way to prep?

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, Christianity, Exhaustion, Faith, Family, Friendship, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Holidays, Homesteading

Goodbye 2023

Lisa Burbank

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

Another year winding down to a close. This is often, in my mind at least, a time to reflect upon the year that’s passing.

I’ve been shying away from that.

It’s been a tough year filled with uncertainty…and some losses that have cut me to the bone. Yet it’s also been a year that’s filled me with hope…even as my prayer life has hit one of those dead zones.

This time last year I was staring down the face of foreclosure, scared silly I’d lose my babies, the cat, goat, chicken and duck “babies” that share this homestead with Mom and I. I wasn’t even sure where Mom and I were going to go if we lost the home. I promised myself–and Him–that if He saved my home again, I would shout His praises from the rooftop. There’s been a praise and song in my heart, but I’ve retreated so far inward, well, I’m hoping the Bible studies I’m taking on Wednesday nights at church will help me navigate this spiritual desert. Right now everything is just numb…yet maybe a little raw, too.

This time last year we also had intermittent running water. Then from April until late-July we didn’t have any running water at all. Praise God–and Robert–for helping us get the water back on. And my heart was truly singing during and after that first hot shower in a very long time!

Of course, New Year’s Eve is always that time when I remember those I’ve lost throughout the year. Close to home, we lost Mountain Dew Duck, Jeep the Rooster, Faith, the last of our Plymouth Barred Rock chickens, and our sweet and lovable Nigerian Dwarf goat, Chester. Also, Herman the barn cat disappeared about a month ago. He’s been gone before, but usually not more than a few days, a week at best. Herman was incredibly shy. We tried capturing him, but he knew what a live trap was and avoided it like the plague.

On the human side, in April I also lost my Aunt Sandy, which if you’ve been following my blog, you probably saw the post about that. Her husband, my Uncle George, followed her in July. I might be able to find something metaphoric in the times of their passing vs. the water shutting completely off and then, praise the Lord, coming back on. However, it’s too great a mental exercise right now.

You see, this has been my time to weep, to mourn, to give up (or, in my case, give it up (to God!)), to be silent. It’s been the worry over the home; the stress of so many repairs and replacements; the grief…this last is the hardest. And now the feeling of being overwhelmed as I try to clean up, shape up, pick up the pieces and move on…while also in the midst of the first of three thesis classes. Go figure!

Then just before Christmas, a friend of a friend found mention on the probate court website of another friend’s estate. Duncan had not been heard from since August and we had been very worried about him. He lived alone and he wasn’t returning phone calls. A few visits to his home showed no one was there and no one had contacted my friend to let him know what happened. Whether Duncan passed away at home, or later in a hospital, we may never know. He was never a visitor to the homestead, but his best friend is, and his loss is still felt.

Despite all of this, all of the struggles and the losses of family and friends, both human and humane, I truly do feel blessed. Blessed to have shared at least part of my life with everyone mentioned here…and I praise God for those who are still here to share this life with me. Here’s to hoping 2024 will be a much happier year!

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animals, Appreciation, Christianity, Emergency Preparedness, Finances, Friendship, Homesteading, Minimalism, Nostalgia, Poverty, Prayer, Scripture

Coming Out of the Darkness

Lisa Burbank

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” (Psalms 46:1-3)

Phew! The last three weeks have been a whirlwind of plumbers, notaries, electricians, lawyers, well-drilling technicians, and mortgage lenders…fits, starts, stops, highs and lows.

The good news is we now have safe and reliable running water again. We’ve been doing the bowl bath thing, heating the bottled water that I purchased every couple of days at Walmart and washing up that way…since November 2021 (Yes, you read that correctly!). To say that first warm shower last Wednesday felt ambrosial is an understatement. And I dare say, my infatuation with 19th century living has been tempered a bit. Had I the infrastructure of our ancestors, such as a pump at the kitchen sink, it might not have been quite so bad, but I’m not complaining. I feel like a lady of luxury these days (Thank you, Jesus…and a very special shout of “thanks” to Sir Robert the Welcome!).

Granted, we did have running cold water until April of this year. It wasn’t safe to drink but, we could at least fill kettles, pots and pans at the sink to heat for dishes and bathing so the cost to refill gallon jugs at Walmart was somewhat manageable…even if it was a pain you-know-where.

It actually feels strange not to have to stop every few days, not to have a mountain of empty jugs piled up in a box on the back seat to refill, not to have to look for an empty grocery cart nearby to haul those 15-20 empty gallon jugs into the store when I park my car. I keep thinking I’m forgetting something. Again, I’m not complaining. But what a habit to maintain out of necessity!

Thursday morning there was a moment of panic when I noted the lonely little gallon jug in the corner and I still hadn’t fed the goats, chickens, and ducks their breakfast, which always includes a refill of clean water. I barely stopped myself from berating myself for not stopping the night before for refills. The feeling of wonder when I remembered to turn on the tap and watched clear, cool water run out into their buckets must’ve been akin to what our ancestors felt when indoor plumbing was first invented.

And it’s amazing how He works. Despite all of our financial difficulties, somehow we always managed to have enough to buy in the water we needed. He always provided…even if we did rob Peter to pay Paul a few times. I’m feeling truly blessed right now.

There really isn’t any bad news, not even where mortgage lenders, attorneys and notaries are concerned. It’s just frustrating news. As mentioned in my previous post, the final date for the signing of the permanent modification paperwork got pushed out another month. It would appear the lenders are not happy with my ability to make mortgage payments. However, it’s very satisfying on this end to be able to write those checks again.

I have 9 days to go before we meet again. I spoke with my representative a couple of days’ ago and she said everything was correct this time. So, third time’s a charm, I guess, but praise God for the blessing of friends…and co-workers willing to take time out of their busy days to act as witnesses.

I’m asking for lots of prayers, good wishes, positive thoughts, etc. that Mom and I, and our little farm, can get right-side up again permanently. As always, many thanks!

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Bright Blessings for Brooklyn Farm, Pet & Hardware

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

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

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

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

These are the people I know from BFP&H:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

Art, Books, Christianity, Creativity, Faith, Friendship, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, Plants, Prayer, Writing, YouTube

An Upgrade?

Lisa Burbank

“I will extol the Lord at all times; His praise on my lips. My soul will boast in the lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice. Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt His name together” (Psalm 34:1-3)

And an update: the mortgage company is NOT happy that I have suddenly tripled my income and may be able to begin payments again. They are fighting tooth and nail to go straight to foreclosure. Contrary to what they often tell you, no, they wouldn’t rather keep you in your home. Especially if you’ve been in the home for as long as I have, and even with recent financial difficulties, was moving from just paying interest to finally touching principle before my injury and subsequent job loss. If they take it over, the owner (in this case, me) loses the equity and, whoever buys it going forward will supply the bank with a whole new round of interest payments. Greedy b@$t@rd$…

However, my attorney is on to them and there is a plan in place. Either I will keep the home, or I will sell it and, hopefully, receive some of my equity.

On another note, I am looking to upgrade my blog. My plan is to grow it into an actual website i.e. a paid subscription to WordPress (after taking some tutorials; I’m abysmally ignorant of how this all works) with a hosting platform. Whether I stay in my current home, or sell it and move, The Herbal Hare Tomestead will be growing. I’m still in the planning stages but, stay tuned.

A sneak peek?

Links to a future YouTube channel; podcast; a bulletin board for workshops and other events; how you may contact me for freelance projects, including possible voiceover work (although that may be a year or more into the future; I need to secure my home before I can look into building out a voiceover studio in it), as well as an online retail space as I get back into fiber arts. Again, this last may be farther into the future but, it starts with creating a website that can be added onto as I grow my homestead and business.

Again, stay tuned…and a big shout out of “Thanks!” to everyone who has continued to follow me through such spotty and uncertain times. I really appreciate your support, encouragement, prayers, and friendship.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Culture, Diversity, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, God/Jesus, Healing, Human rights, Humanity First, Politics, Social Media, Understanding

I’ve Joined the Cult, Part II

Lisa Burbank

“Don’t just pretend that you love others: really love them. Hate what is wrong. Stand on the side of the good. Love each other with brotherly affection and take delight in honoring each other.” (Romans 12:9-10)

After hitting the “Publish” button earlier this morning, I flew out of my home office, behind as always. Roosters were crowing incessantly and felines threatened to trip me up all along my “route” as I filled bowls with food and water. Yet my mind was still racing along with my feet.

Our present social climate deeply concerns me. Not just media, or government, but friends and family, too, strive to silence any opposing opinion these days…encouraged and emboldened by that same media and government. They do so with scorn, with derision, by labeling and belittling. They embrace the constant fight-or-flight dialogue in media, and social media, the insidious fear-mongering that would keep us as sheep, never questioning what we see around us.

This post, and the one before it, may have to be taken down at some point. They will likely get flagged on social media. God forbid someone openly considers an alternative to what has become the norm today.

I’ll risk it.

So much for Freedom of Speech, or Freedom of Press.

It is worrisome. Anyone who questions the efficacy, or the validity, of this *jab* is labeled: cultish; conspiracy theorist; domestic terrorist.

Why?

There has never been, to my knowledge, any drug, or medication, or medical procedure, that has not come with risks. We see the infomercials every day when we turn on the television. We hear them on the radio as we drive down the street. And we shake our heads at the often lengthy list of side effects associated with each one–many of them worse than the malady they’re designed to control (they never really cure you of anything; there’s no money in that). Somebody, somewhere, has questioned the efficacy and the validity of these medications in the infomercials. We don’t suppress those. Instead, we glorify them for the advertisers who hope to get you dependent upon them. Often with good outcomes, such as controlling one’s diabetes, or high blood pressure, etc., but the dependency is still made…if we CHOOSE the treatment encouraged by our medical practitioners. Always before we’ve been allowed to make these choices for ourselves.

But not this time.

This time, we are obviously too stupid to make any choices for ourselves…without having a blue ring stuck in our nose by which to be led around.

Why is it not okay to question this new medicine? Why are we being compelled to accept without question? What makes this *jab* any different from Prozac, or Metoprolol, for example, that it should be exempt from the usual scrutiny or initial distrust? And, more importantly, why does our government, and friends and family, seek to punish us by the loss of our jobs/income, by the loss of our homes and all that we have worked for through the loss of that income, by isolating us from each other for not complying? Why are we being labeled as social pariahs merely for making an informed choice as we have always been allowed to do with any other medicine or medical procedure…rather than nodding incessantly like a stuffed dog in the rearview window?

“It’s a pandemic” is the usual response to such questions; it’s catching.

So is the flu. We’ve never been threatened with job loss, or social isolation, for not getting a flu shot.

Perhaps that’s next on the agenda…

But, more importantly, we must ask ourselves, should we be normalizing the constraints and practices implemented under a special circumstance? For example, should we have grown up with each of us wearing one of those creepy, bird-masks used during the Spanish Flu a century ago…just in case it might still be “catching”? Yes, they were the stuff of nightmares, and it seems ludicrous in this context, but so is seeing the loss of personal autonomy over our own bodies.

I’ve talked a lot in my blog about growing up in an alcoholic home. I’ve talked about the abuse. And the suppression of following one’s natural instincts and inclinations. When my stepfather thought he was losing control of us, when we said something that he didn’t like, or disagreed with him, he got directly in our faces and, with each *point* he made, he slapped the counter beside us, pounded the end table, to punctuate it. Though he never laid a hand on us during his monologues, our bodies jumped with each slap, or pounding of a fist, on that hard surface. It was fear-mongering at its finest. Other times, he pulled the guilt card. How could I have called the cops on him? Look at that record album he bought for me last week…much like we all got $1200 in a stimulus check so we should be grateful and allow our bodies and minds to be controlled by those who gave it to us.

Perhaps we should all adopt a 12-Step program to cure our addictions to both the mainstream and social media’s biases…

Yes, there is a lot of misinformation out there. Sadly, it seems to occur more frequently within the same party that supposedly champions equality for everyone regardless of color, religion, gender/identification, or socioeconomic status.

Apparently, diverse political ideologies don’t deserve the same equal rights…even those of us who usually identify with a more progressive party, but are still questioning what we see in the media, and on the streets, today. How dare we!

This is wrong, and frightening, on so many levels.

Going back to one of my opening paragraphs, yes, family and friends do belittle and label those of us who are questioning and choosing differently than they have but, usually, only on social media. Rarely do I hear labels, or belittling tactics, in person. The armchair social media junkie is bold and brash only when they cannot see the hurt their careless remarks inflict on another human being. Like the alcoholic who hides behind their addiction, and tries to control the world around them because they, themselves, are out of control, these armchair *experts* who espouse their-way-or-the-highway ideologies, forget that there are fellow human beings on the receiving end of their tirades. Perhaps if we all remembered that, and responded accordingly, the strangle-hold of our dopamine addiction would finally heal. Isn’t that what Jesus would do? Instead, there doesn’t appear to be even a feigned attempt to listen to our brothers and sisters, or to try to understand where they’re coming from. Such humanity is discouraged…and labeled a threat.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve hit rock-bottom.

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Faith, Friendship, God/Jesus, Healing, Holidays, Humanity First, Love, Religion, Scripture, Spirituality

A Few Holidays Missed

Lisa Burbank

“The whole world spoke the same language, using the same words. While men were migrating in the east, they came upon a valley in the land of Shinar and settled there. They said to one another, ‘Come, let us mold bricks and harden them with fire.’ They used bricks for stone, and bitumen for mortar. Then they said, ‘Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the sky, and so make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered all over the earth.’ The Lord came down to see the city and the tower that the men had built. Then the Lord said: ‘If now, while they are one people, all speaking the same language, they have started to do this, nothing will later stop them from doing whatever they presume to do. Let us then go down and there confuse their language, so that one will not understand what another says.’ Thus the Lord scattered them from there all over the earth and they stopped building the city. That is why it was called Babel, because there the Lord confused the speech of all the world. It was from that place that He scattered them all over the earth.” (Genesis 11: 1-9)

I have been remiss the last couple of weeks. When I printed out a copy of the Interfaith Calendar for 2022 from Diversity Resources, there was a reason behind it: to commemorate the holidays celebrated by all faiths and walks of life. And here it has sat collecting dust for the last several days. (heavy sigh)

First off is the Feast of Epiphany on January 6th. As a practicing Catholic, I know that this is the day commemorating the “first manifestation of Jesus to the Gentiles for Christians”. It marks the day the three kings arrived in Bethlehem, 12 days after the birth of Christ. As we celebrated it recently at church, and I was the lector doing the Bible readings to commemorate it, you’d think that I would have remembered. (again, heavy sigh)

Of course, if you follow the Orthodox calendar, Christmas isn’t until January 7th. (Do Orthodox Christians celebrate a Feast of Epiphany on January 13th? There is no mention on the calendar but…) Anyway, this one I should know as I dated a man who was Ukrainian and his family had a celebration every year on January 7th. A belated Merry Christmas to you all!

January 10th is celebrated by Mahayana Buddhists as the day of Buddha’s enlightenment. This is Bodhi Day. I hope that it is acceptable and appropriate to wish you a Happy Bodhi Day; good thoughts and intentions are meant in the wishing. As I realized my lax this morning, I did not research further than the brief descriptions offered by this calendar. Going forward, I will do better with research, learn and share any traditions, or customs associated with each day.

Lastly, I missed the birthday of Guru Gobind Singh. He was the tenth Sikh Guru and spiritual master according to Diversity Resources. A shout out to everyone who loves and follows the teachings of this man. Again, I will do better to research the many holidays throughout the year so that future commemorations do not sound so stilted or pat.

Why am I doing this? Because the best way to lesson any division between us is to learn about each other. While we may be of different faiths and cultures, when we scratch below the surface, we usually find we have way more in common than not. And, for anyone reading who celebrates the holidays that I gave so little information on, feel free to share more details in the comments below. While I outlined my hopes and dreams for an animal sanctuary yesterday, I hope that this blog will become another sort of sanctuary for the readers who visit here. All are welcome!

May God bless you & keep you!