Category: Gratitude

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Remembering 09/11/2001

Lisa Burbank

“The path of the godly leads away from evil; he who follows that path is safe” (Proverbs 16:17)

I had just come back from the company cafeteria with a cup of tea when a co-worker hollered over the foam-filled cubicle wall, “Oh, my God! Did you see that?” And then a cacophony of voices asking, “What?” “Yes, OMG!” “Holy crap…my sister/mother/brother just texted me; look at this!” “What happened?” and “This can’t be real.”

And, yet, it was.

As the images scrolled across every screen in our corporate facility, I remember glancing at the plate-glass window behind me and trying to imagine what it would be like to see a large commercial airplane heading straight for me. Granted, I was on the ground floor and our facility sprawled rather than rising up to touch the skyline but, at that point, I believed anything could happen. I thought of the family and friends those people would never see again…because, in that instance, you would know there was no escape.

Glancing at the clock on the PC, I picked up my extension (I wouldn’t join the ranks of cellphone users for many years to come), and called my parents’ house in Warwick. I knew they weren’t flying anywhere but, you know, you couldn’t help but check-in with all of your loved ones at a time like this. Every other extension was lit up with the same type of phone calls. Nobody was working on September 11, 2001…outside of first responders and hospital personnel. And, as news footage rolled, janitors, cafeteria workers, assemblers, accountants, executives and technical engineers stood shoulder-to-shoulder to watch in horror.

Mom wasn’t up yet. My stepfather had just awakened, poured a cup of coffee and turned on the TV. His two-plus-packs-a-day-early-morning-gravel declared, “It looks like something out of a Sci-Fi film”. As he could likely quote dialog from Star Trek, I agreed with this assessment. I still had that feeling of otherworldliness myself; it would not wear off for some time. For me, it was more like Freddy Kruger meets Godzilla, or something equally as fantastical and unbelievable.

My stepfather woke my mother up. It felt good just to hear their voices as I watched new footage rolling of people trapped in the upper floors of the Twin Towers jumping to their deaths.

Suddenly, my Mom mentioned a new neighbor of theirs who had sat outside with them a few nights’ earlier, showing off a new tattoo. She remembered it depicted an airplane flying into a pair of towers…

They hung up to call the local police station.

Nobody ever responded, took them seriously…even after they discovered only hours later that the couple had moved out in the middle of the night on September 10th.

Later, as the list of casualties scrolled across every news outlet feed, I learned that Mom had an old high school friend on board one of the planes. Carol was en route to her daughter’s wedding. I can’t imagine her last thoughts…or that of her daughter on what should have been a day filled with joy, not sorrow. And, as my mother’s side of the family is mostly police officers, I couldn’t help but grieve for those who lost their lives trying to save others, while also admiring the bravery that every emergency worker displayed as they rushed in, heedless of their own safety.

Of course, with the renewed sense of patriotism after these attacks, and the pretty much unanimous approval for our commander-in-chief to invade the Middle East, came a great fear in the hearts of many for anyone of Middle Eastern heritage. Or anyone just sporting a head covering of some sort. Memes spread via email hating on anyone Muslim or Middle Eastern…or both. I understood the fear behind it but, when one such meme surfaced quoting passages from the Quran, I decided to risk some censure. The quote and the book didn’t even exist in the Quran (and forgive my faulty memory for not remembering the fake quote from 20 years’ ago). Though I am Christian, I have a copy of the Quran in my home and have read it cover-to-cover. I double checked and then copied down text from the numbered passage the meme claimed as “gospel”.

Yup. I got reamed. Family, friends…was I crazy?

No. Just trying to do what I thought Jesus would do: counter the lie with the truth…and stop the persecution of innocent people. While all members of Al Qaeda and the Taliban identify as Muslim, not every Muslim is a member of Al Qaeda or the Taliban. It’s like members of the Ku Klux Klan claiming to be Christian, but not every Christian is a member of the KKK. Both are fringe extremists of their respective religions and cultures.

I was called un-American for pointing out the error in the aforementioned meme. I had a brother deployed to the Middle East right after 9/11. Of course, I was worried sick over his safety, and that of his brothers- and sisters-in-arms. Of course, I supported (and still support) our troops, our police officers, firefighters, EMT’s and other emergency workers.

And I always will.

As I sit here remembering 09/11/2001, my heart grieves for Every. Single. Life lost in this terrorist attack. I grieve and pray for all of the unsuspecting executives and office workers, maintenance and food preppers, blue color and white color, who went to work that morning never realizing what that day would bring…or the ultimate sacrifice they would have to make. I pray for the passengers and crew aboard each airline. I pray for the emergency workers and first responders who gave so selflessly. I pray for the lives lost over the last 20 years due to the myriad pollutants inhaled during and after the attack. I pray for all of our soldiers, many who also gave the ultimate sacrifice to defend our country, and for those who came back less than whole with limbs missing, sight and/or hearing destroyed, suffering from PTSD and, like so many of our vets from Vietnam, found themselves homeless upon their return to the U.S. (we can do better than this America…). And, yes, I also pray for those caught in a cycle of hate for their heritage and/or beliefs since this attack, whether Muslim or Sikh or any other individual mistaken and mistrusted for something they had no more control over than any other American.

Twenty years…

The children of the soldiers deployed in 2001 are now old enough to be soldiers themselves. 13 of them died as our current administration finally pulled out of Afghanistan. Yes, it was time and past for this war to end.

More criticism: I’ve been told I have no idea how hard it is to pull a whole army out of a country like that and I shouldn’t judge…even though thousands of American citizens and Afghan allies were left behind. I should focus on the, I believe the number is over 120,000, people that were rescued. Focus on the positive; this has never been done before (yeah, there’s an echo chamber here from the previous administration…). Those left behind are essentially hostages now. And, no, I really don’t know how hard it is to pull out of a country like that. But my brother could’ve been one of those 13. And I believe my critics are missing the point completely as we all mourn the loss of who I pray will finally be the last of those lost since 9/11 and the seemingly endless war that has followed in its wake.

May God bless you & keep you!

And may we never forget: 09/11/2001 – 09/11/2021

Animals, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Exhaustion, Faith, Forgiveness, Friendship, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Homesteading, Humanity First, Memories, Nostalgia, Poverty, Prayer

And Then the Other Hammer Falls

Lisa Burbank

“But Lot’s wife looked back as she was following along behind him, and became a pillar of salt.” (Genesis 19:26)

I feel a bit like Lot’s wife. He’s been pointing me away from here for years now. And I keep looking back, allowing nostalgia and sentiment to sway my decisions. Now home has become unsafe and I received the foreclosure notice yesterday.

WARNING: There may be some redundancy in my blog posts as the weeks roll on. I will be sharing the link to my Go Fund Me campaign periodically in my posts. Please forgive me; these are desperate times.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-our-farm-is-being-foreclosed?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_campaign=p_cp_guide_do&member=12637057

Even if you cannot help, if you could share this link on your social media pages, I would be forever indebted to you! Your prayers, positive thoughts and energy are also appreciated!

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Enlightenment, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Prayer, Religion, Scripture, Self-improvement, Spirituality

Praising Him in the Storm

Lisa Burbank

“When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up–the flames will not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:2)

Praising the good Lord even in the midst of a storm…I struggle with that one, even though I know that it is correct. I know, deep down inside, that even in these little earthquakes that rattle the soul, He has my best interest at heart. He has my back.

Until the voice of the adversary creeps up and tells me I’m not worthy. I’m being punished for something I did. Or didn’t do. Or didn’t do right. All those promises from the Bible are for other people.

Then there’s another voice that whispers, “Why am I praising the struggle???”

That’s probably the worst one of all, the one that pulls me the furthest from my Lord and Savior: questioning why.

Because it shows I haven’t quite learned how to walk by faith yet.

But I will praise Him. Even if a part of me has forgotten how. How to surrender. How to let go. Did I ever really know? Have I ever really let go long enough for real trust to grow?

But praise Him I will.

I praise you Lord for the splinter still caught under my right ring finger…and for the salve I made several months’ ago containing the plantain that, hopefully, will draw it out.

I praise you for the acid reflux and asthma attacks Wednesday night that had me up at 2 a.m…and made me realize just how unsustainable such an early rising would be for the long haul.

I praise you for whatever is leaking in the basement. And for the lack of funds to have it looked at and repaired; further proof that this old fixer-upper has become a drain on my strength and soul.

I praise you for the new neighbors who are harassing us and challenging zoning regulations. I praise you for blessing them…and maybe there is just a little gremlin still sitting on my shoulder that says, “Yeah, open their eyes! Pierce their souls with contrition for the hardship they’ve added to a thousandfold! (Translation: a thinly veiled plea for revenge…lol!) I praise You for that, too; there’s still some fight left after all.

I praise you that I didn’t get the director’s job, yet another full-time position that would’ve made all the difference financially. I praise you for answering my prayer that I get that position only if You mean for Mom and I to stay here in Connecticut.

I praise you for the new kittens who are filling our home and our hearts with laughter.

I praise you for the friends, family, and spiritual community that you have blessed me with for almost 20 years. And all of the many animals that have shared this home with us.

And, Lord, if it be thy will, I praise You for showing me where to now. It’s been almost a decade since this storm first hit, Praise God! I’m growing oh-so weary…

And, yes, there is a note of cynicism and bitterness. But also, an inner canniness that understands a little of what is happening here. ..at least I hope so.

You see, I started working with a coach last month. She is a Christian and helps those of us whose faith is struggling. She is also a writing coach. If nothing else, she is helping me to simply show up. To write. To pray. To worship and create. To draw closer to Him.

And that’s not in the adversary’s plans at all. So, of course, he’s throwing as many monkey wrenches at me as he can find.

But, you know, I even praise the Lord for both the monkey wrenches and the cynicism. I may not know all of God’s plans right now, where He is leading me, where He wants me to go, or what He wants me to do, but I do know that that ol’ devil perceives the threat to his machinations. And that’s worthy of at least a dozen “Hallelujahs”. Maybe praising Him in the midst of a storm isn’t that difficult after all.

May God bless you & keep you!

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

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

Lisa Burbank

“And God said, ‘Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat’.” (Genesis 1:29)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who knew this familiar culinary staple packed such a punch?

May God bless you & keep you!

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

REFERENCES

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

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

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

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

Abuse, Animals, Appreciation, Books, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Creativity, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Homesteading, Prayer, Writing

When In Doubt

Lisa Burbank

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. You will find me when you seek me, if you look for me in earnest.” (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

The kitchen faucet, which has needed replacing for some time now, started leaking in earnest last week…i.e. we had a flood in the kitchen. The nosy neighbors who hide in my hedges, craning their neck over the wall, the same ones who have challenged zoning, are proving to be partiers. Bonfires, loud music, swearing, screaming, shouting until all hours of the night…and there’s less than an acre between us. Then the trunk of my car wouldn’t close Saturday night so I had to wire it shut. On the way to pick up dinner last night, the wire broke and I had to pull into a parking lot and try to rewire it. I eventually had to pull some baling twine off of the bale of hay in the trunk and jury rig it until I could get back home. After fiddling with it some more, I finally got it closed…only to approach opening it again with much trepidation. When I got home, Felicity, my female Nigerian Dwarf goat was shaking like a leaf. Chester, the male, got a little rough with his head-butting. No major injury but she’s a little stiff and sore; I had to separate them.

This could be the sequel to Francesca Battistelli’s song, “This is the Stuff”. As I plan to walk to work as long as the weather holds, I pray I won’t have to worry overmuch about misplaced keys or doing 45 in a 35 mph zone, as she intones.

But, yes, this is the stuff that drives me crazy.

Foreclosure is still looming. I still haven’t found a zoning attorney to help me with my current issues. With bad credit, finding a new homestead looks pretty grim. My paltry part-time paycheck, for which, yes, I am eternally grateful to have even that, will take me a month of Sundays to save for an acre or two of land. Then I have to build a house.

And I’m stressing over having to change a faucet on my own!

Having these added issues, no matter how seemingly small, just adds insult to injury. I feel a crying jag coming on. Mainly because I’ve lost my cool more often than I’d like to admit.

Hope flew out the window last night. The thought of ending it crept in. Only for a moment but it was enough for me to stop and take stock of things. I am so completely overwhelmed. They say He doesn’t give us more than we can bear. I don’t believe that’s entirely true. He never gives us more than He can bear, not what we can bear. We can’t bear all that much on our own. And maybe that’s what I’m trying to do: shoulder it alone. The problem is I don’t know how to let go and let God. I don’t know how to trust, to believe that He really does have my best interest at heart. I don’t know how to surrender my will to His for fear that I will lose everything that truly matters to me…not as idols, but I’m still that abused little girl expecting a punitive father to strike me down.

And yet there must still be a nugget of hope somewhere in my heart because I keep envisioning that homestead up in Maine, Vermont, upstate New York, maybe Tennessee or Missouri to be closer to my brother and best friend. Ohio has popped up on the radar, too. Yeah, maybe just dreams. But, to be truly without hope, those dreams would be cast aside. Instead, the yearning grows stronger.

Enough that I have signed up to work with a writing/career coach. She is a friend of a friend that I met at a Christian writer’s workshop the summer before Covid-19. We have stayed in touch through social media. I realize how truly overwhelmed I have been with this blog (I’ve strayed away a time or two from its original purpose), with both books, with starting a career as a writer and not knowing where to go, where to start. I aced the classes. I have the degree. Now where do I go from here? And I don’t know a lot of writers locally. Before Covid-19 I had considered starting a local writers’ workshop that would meet every week. Covid-19 nixed that for the moment. I realize I need that support, that accountability, some basic structure and feeling that I am getting somewhere as I navigate through my first novel, or two.

As for my living situation? It may be a while before He reveals where He is leading me. I suppose I need an accountability partner there, too. Someone who routinely asks me, “Did you call x, y, z this week? Did you have a chance to do ___________?” It is far too easy to slide back into a depressed slump, to cave in to the apathy of worldly struggles. To feel, yes, overwhelmed by the magnitude of this mountain I’m being asked to climb.

And He is asking me to climb it or He wouldn’t keep bringing me back to it. I feel like He is asking me to take all of this knowledge He has given me, the resources He has revealed and put them to use, to take advantage of them…and to shake off the underlying feeling that I am not worthy of His grace. That’s the peak of the mountain…learning to believe He loves me and I don’t have to earn it.

This yearning-to-be a professional writer, homesteader and prepper is reaching out and asking for your prayers, your positive vibes/energies, some kind intentions. I’ve been in this place for most of the last 12 years; enough is enough. May God send His blessings upon each and every one of you, too!

Amen!

REFERENCES

Battistelli, Francesca (2011). “This is the Stuff.” Hundred More Years. Fervent Records, Curb Records, and Word Entertainment.

Books, Christianity, Creativity, Enlightenment, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Memories, Music, Nostalgia, Open-mindedness, Rock & Roll, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Social Media, YouTube

Another Chapter

Lisa Burbank

“A merry doeth good like a medicine, but a broken spirit makes one sick” (Proverbs 17:22)

I turned 54 the Friday before Thanksgiving. I started my day with a cuppa tea and a steady stream of Weird Al Yankovic videos from YouTube.

Odd.

No, I wasn’t jonesing because, as I grow ever deeper into my 50s, I cannot help but grow more aware of things like aging and mortality………

Okay.

Maybe just a little.

But who couldn’t use a little humor on their birthday?

And, if I’m really being honest, I’ve always had a “thing” for Weird Al. He’s my brand of sexy. And, as he was a bachelor for quite a number of years, well, he’s not now, but hope bloomed steady in this heart for those numbers of years (chuckle). As if…

Sigh.

No, I’m not jonesing that he’s been a seemingly happily married man for some time now. I wish he and the Mrs. many more happy years. If I had to analyze my musical choices on the birthday, I would say, if any jonesing, it was the trip down memory lane that many of his videos evoked: Donny Osmond, Florence Henderson, Michael Jackson…so many of the icons of my youth grace his videos, or inspired them. So much so that the real jonesing flourished alongside the chuckles over his cleverly written, tongue-in-cheek lyrics.

Damn. I’m getting old.

Eventually I turned off the TV and headed upstairs to spend some much-needed time with my characters. And there I stayed, hacking out another chapter in the literary desert, praying that with God’s grace, this book will be one of many. Perhaps someday another individual will read a few chapters on their 54th birthday and feel some of the same emotions as I did watching Weird Al’s videos: hope, humor, awe, humility, nostalgia, and yes, even some low-key depression.

In the meantime, I have continued to ponder life. I’ve been looking back over the years. Seeing all that I’ve done, all that I’ve accomplished…at least in terms of academics. It’s time to put to use the college degree, the myriad certifications, and live the life of my dreams. There is no room in the heart of the faithful for fear. And I’ve allowed it to take root and stay.

Time to clean house.

Looks like my birthday spent with Weird Al had a bit of a cathartic effect, too. Here’s to another 54 years, give or take, and a merry heart finally ready to follow the path that God has been nudging me towards before it’s too late.

What dreams are you holding in your heart but too afraid to follow? Time to clean house and give the adversary the boot.

May God bless you & keep you!

Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Exhaustion, Faith, Gratitude, Healing, Understanding

Do Better

Lisa Burbank

“Don’t worry about anything; tell God your needs and don’t forget to thank Him for His answers. If you do this you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)

Mom was hacked again. We took a trip to the local bank and got her an account, which was a lot easier than she thought it would be. While there, I checked my account balance and I had bounced a check. I forgot to deduct a vet bill in June. Now my car payment is late. Thank God for the unexpected help of friends and I ask many blessings upon them all! At least I can call the loan company on Tuesday and, hopefully, sort it out.

I bought a gift card to pay my phone bill because I do not trust putting my account info online (I do this every month, withdraw the cash, buy the card) and my cell company will not accept it. Now I have to take a trip to the nearest store three towns over tomorrow to try to pay the bill in person.

While trying to log onto my PC, it took an inordinate amount of time to boot up. I went into panic mode. I cannot afford a new PC right now as I am trying desperately to save so we can relocate out of Dodge. Mom heard the growl of frustration and asked what was wrong. I snapped an answer…and still feel like a heel for doing so.

Then I noticed the notice on my desk that I was supposed to have my emissions tested by Wednesday. And Monday is a holiday.

Contemporary Christian artist, Francesca Battistelli, sings a song called “This is the Stuff” and talks about all these little things, like misplacing keys, or getting a traffic ticket, and how He uses even this to remind us how blessed we truly are. My faith is still here but I’m weary of this darkness that has been visited on my life for too long now. I am blessed. I know I am. But I don’t believe the platitude that He never gives us more than we can bear. I’m about used up. And so is every person who has ever gone insane, suffered a coronary or an aneurysm, or worse. Maybe it’s our resistance to whatever work He’s doing in our lives that we just don’t understand, but it’s hard not to succumb to despair when you’re doing the best you know how to do. Maybe it’s not my place to “do” anything…except wait on Him.

I am reminded of that meme that goes around on social media sometimes. I’m paraphrasing but it’s something like, I trust you God, but hurry. I vaguely remember asking Him to help me with my impatience. I’m still struggling with that one. (sigh)

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Moving On Up?

Lisa Burbank

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

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

And planning.

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

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

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

Fortunately, I save everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I’m looking further afield, further ahead.

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

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

Because that’s how He works.

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

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Bereavement, Faith, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, illness, Love, Memories, Prayer, Yoga & Fitness

An Answered Prayer

Lisa Burbank

“Lord, you know the hopes of humble people. Surely you will hear their cries and comfort their hearts by helping them.” (Psalms 10:17)

I know I said in a much earlier post that I would save “those” kind of posts for New Year’s Eve only. “Those” being the posts that mention a loss here on The Herbal Hare Homestead. For the most part, I’ve stuck to it. The reason being there was a particularly dark period of time here where it felt like I was making one of “those” posts every other week. In sooth, there were 8 losses that year. Still a lot…and I could just hear all of my friends remarking how lately every time they read it, they get depressed. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know. But, I confess, I started to feel depressed every time I sat down at the keyboard.

However, every once in a while, though homesteading conditions you to expect the occasional loss, there’s that “one” that truly clubs you off at the knee.

That happened Friday.

About a week earlier, Pearl went off her feed and started looking a little lethargic. This went on for almost a day with me deciding that, if she was still looking “droopy” and not eating the next morning, I would call the vet (she had had similar situations over the years and within a few hours, maybe a day, she’d bounce right back; we even visited the vet once in regard and he had reassured me that if it was only a missed meal or two, not to worry too much but simply keep an eye on her. He did a thorough check, took blood tests then, and could find nothing “wrong”.) Anyway, the next day she was eating again and seemed fine. In retrospect, I wonder if I should’ve taken her in anyway…even without any specific symptoms showing. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Last Thursday afternoon, I came in from dropping my car off at the garage and saw Pearl sleeping on the sofa. When I went over to cuddle her, she responded but something seemed “off” about her. I made a comment to Mom in that regard. As I told her, “she’s not showing any symptoms of anything but she doesn’t ‘look’ well”. I recalled that Pearl had eaten that morning, not as vigorously as usual, but it was also not one of her favorite flavors so I hadn’t been too alarmed then; perhaps I should have been. I sat down beside her on the sofa and she curled up in my lap…until Ozzy did his usual horn in on the action and she moved over to the afghan she’d been sleeping on when I came in. Then, maybe 15-20 minutes later, she got down and went into the bathroom where we have a water bowl sitting under the drippy tub faucet. Again, nothing too unusual except, over the course of the next couple of hours, she made multiple returns. I suspected she probably had a kidney infection coming in but, by then, it was evening, after hours for the vet, and the closest emergency facility is in another state (not to mention, I was without transportation) and I’m not overly trusting of this emergency facility in the first place. I brewed an infusion of parsley as a first aid and fed her some in an eyedropper, only as much as she would willingly take, knowing parsley’s gentle healing properties for anything kidney/bladder related. I also kept checking for dehydration. As the night wore on, she had started showing symptoms of the latter. By early morning, she was actually sleeping in the tub by that water bowl and there was no doubt about it: she needed to go to the vet immediately.

Of course, the car was still in the shop and, to be honest, the vet wasn’t open yet. I ran through the usual morning feeding routine, texted a friend to see if she was available to drive us up to the vet hospital, and then called the mechanic. Low and behold, the car was done so I walked over and, by the time I got home (1/2 hour later), the vet hospital was open. I called, got their answering service, and told them I was bringing her in; I wasn’t arguing about it. A few minutes’ later, we were waiting in the parking lot for one of the techs to bring her in for examination. They took her in almost immediately and confirmed what I had suspected: a kidney infection. They asked permission to keep her overnight. They were starting her on subcutaneous fluids, as she was dehydrated by then, and antibiotics to kill the infection.

I got a call a few hours later to give them a call back as Pearl was not responding to treatment. For some reason, the call had gone straight to my voicemail so I called them immediately back.

Dr. Lambert apologized the moment the receptionist put the call through to him: Pearl was gone. They had given her the sub-Q fluids but they discovered when they went to administer the antibiotics that she was still dehydrated. When they went to give her more sub-Q fluids, she started convulsing. They tried to save her but her heart just stopped.

And my world just stopped.

I am devastated. This was my little shadow. I haven’t been at the keyboard any more than necessary (homework only) because I know I won’t have her chirping at me to get in my lap…and then getting all indignant when my fingers are banging away at the keyboard instead of scratching under her chin indefinitely. I haven’t been on the yoga mat because little Miss Pearl would lay on the floor and stretch with me. I’m expecting a little white kitty with black patches to get in my lap when I’m eating my breakfast cereal, waiting for me to finish and leave her the last few drops of milk. Going to sleep at night has been a challenge. I no longer have 9 lbs. of kitty sprawled across my belly and chest, front paws encircling my neck, head tucked under my chin.

So where does the answered prayer come in? Because you know I was praying right along for Him to heal her, to bring her home safe, sound, healthy, etc–ALIVE!!

Four years’ ago, I came home from work, Pearl came running to greet me at the door, lost her balance, and flopped over. I took her to the vet. They treated her for an inner ear infection but Dr. Blakesley (other vet at same hospital) had cautioned that, if she didn’t respond, they would have to do a biopsy as they suspected Pearl might have a brain tumor. However, Pearl responded. When I was burying her beside her sister, Megan, I remembered praying that night that Pearl was too young. She was only 12 (then). Please, would He give me just a few more years with her? Let her at least make it to 16, which is a very great age for a cat, but Ariel had made it that far; please, could He let Pearl make it till at least 16, too?

She did.

Of course, I also remember telling Him that I knew when that day came at age 16, I would probably beg for a few more years with her…and I did…but that I would accept it, knowing that 16 is quite elderly for a cat and that I couldn’t expect too many more years with her.

Heavy sigh.

No matter how many years we have with each other, there is NEVER enough time. As I posted briefly on Facebook last week, who would’ve thought one little cat could have this big of an impact on my life? I feel so lost without her; I look for her everywhere…and even feel a twinge of guilt every time I cuddle one of the other 6 felines that share my world. I also apologize that, even though I love them all dearly, well, no, they aren’t Pearl. They’re Kirby and Ozzy and Emmy Lou and Priscilla and Whitney and Rosco, this last one actually traveled cross country with Mom 6 years’ ago, and they are each special in their own way. I wouldn’t trade them, would mourn them just as fiercely, but I’m still looking for a little sassy white cat with black patches and a black tail, leading me upstairs for some one-on-one cuddle time together, and listening for that sweet little voice talking to me at every opportunity.

But despite this empty, aching hole in my heart, I would do it all again, Miss Pearl. Maybe I would’ve adopted you the very first time I saw you and Megan in the cage at the vet hospital awaiting a forever home (I had visited the vet hospital a few times before finally deciding to take them home). Maybe I would’ve taken you to the vet the week before when you went off your feed that first day last week. Would it have made a difference? Would you still be here with me? Or would I have lost you a week sooner because your little heart was simply done and would’ve given out that much sooner with the stress of being in the vet hospital? I’ll never know. But I do know that Celine Dion was right: the heart does go on.

And, ironically, there is a mixed blessing in this stupid pandemic. Though I had to wait out in the parking lot while the doc examined Pearl, I got to spend these last 1 and 1/2 months with my girl almost non-stop because being a librarian is not an essential worker and we have been home since mid-March. I’m actually grateful for that today.

R.I.P. my little Pearlina Wilhelmina…I love you, Sweetie, and I’d do it all again.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Christianity, Creativity, Emergency Preparedness, gardening, Gratitude, Herbs, Homesteading, Minimalism, Plants, Self-improvement

Feeding My Passions

Lisa Burbank

“An empty stable stays clean–but there is no income from an empty stable.” (Proverbs 14:4)

Today was a rambling sort of day. I ran a few errands in the morning then spent some time in the garden. I weeded the strawberry bed, one of my edible perennials’ beds (Egyptian onions, broad-leaf chives and lamb’s quarters all grow there), and the rhubarb bed. The rhubarb was bolting so I clipped off the flowers and noticed that the soil level in this raised bed is getting rather low, which would explain why it is bolting. Rhubarb is a heavy feeder. I also noticed a new Mullein (Verbascum thapsis) rosette growing in behind it so I transplanted it. Most consider it a weed but, as it’s one of the main ingredients in my asthma tincture, I let it stay; I also love the yellow flowers that will form its second year. I clipped back the invading bittersweet and Japanese Knotweed from the border mix of flowering shrubs and small fruits, and fed some of the latter to Chester, one of my Nigerian Dwarf goats (a beloved treat!). Then the more common chives got clipped and brought in; they’re in the dehydrator now to preserve for use later in the year. The broad-leaf ones will get clipped once these are through drying.

Later I collapsed with a cup of Chai tea in front of YouTube and fed some of my other passions: tiny houses, and both agility and heelwork competitions for dogs. As most of the contestants are usually Border Collies–my favorite–I get a good fix.

I have been following the tiny house movement almost since its inception. I am fascinated with this minimalist lifestyle. I think one of the reasons is how economical it is. In such a small space, you use less heating/cooling, less electricity, and, potentially, less water. I also have too much “stuff” and think how much I would love to unload much of it, going all Marie Kondo by keeping only those special treasures that truly bring me joy. It can be overwhelming. Bigger isn’t always better; neither does having more of everything bring more contentment. Of course, I have almost no carpentry skills; no electrical or plumbing skills, and no place to park it. However, I am still fascinated. And I doubt I’ll ever lose that fascination…until I actually muster up the courage, or the confidence, to take that first step forward.

As for the agility and/or heel work competitions? This one’s a little more obtainable, if I can ever get completely back on my feet again. I loved working with my St. Bernards when they were going through obedience training. It was great fun for all of us…and a great way to bond with these two rescues when I adopted them in 2006. A little older now, though the gentle giants will always have a special place in my heart, I’m leaning more towards something a little smaller, such as the Border Collie, the Corgi, the Bearded Collie, the Australian shepherd or Australian cattle dog. As all of these are herding breeds and extremely energetic, they do well with both agility and heel work. And what a way to express some creativity by choreographing and then training the dog to “dance” with you.

I’m still feeling grateful for this extended shutdown, for the ability to dream and to continue feeding my passions.

May God bless you & keep you!