Category: Human rights

Abuse, Addiction, Animals, Compassion, Exhaustion, Faith, Healing, Human rights, Nature, Poverty, Self-esteem

Of Mice and Women…

Lisa Burbank

“I am leaving you with a gift– peace of mind and heart! And the peace I give isn’t fragile like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” (John 14:27)

This morning I watched Luna, Jerry and Sadie totally absorbed in catching a mouse. The tender heart here has learned just to let nature take its course. While I feel badly for the mouse, another part of me can’t help thinking, “What was that mouse thinking?” I am the crazy cat lady! Did he/she not smell the scent of feline before entering this house??? And then, if I gave in to the tender heart, captured said mouse, and set him/her free, he or she would only run right back in through whatever crack it came through in the first place. Mice are supposed to be intelligent creatures. That’s why we use them, and their rat cousins, in all kinds of mental health and behavioral studies (grrr…I hate vivisection!).

And then, for some strange reason, and it’s funny how these things come to you, I realized there’s a metaphor here.

You see, I was questioning the sanity of a mouse, the logic with which this tiny creature sought entry into a house, knowing by his/her quivering, whiskery olfactory that death awaited them inside. However, autumn is upon us. Chilly winds blow. Rain is falling, making everything wet outside. The scent of feline was overrode by the necessity of warmth that other senses undoubtedly picked up along with the scent of eau de ME-OW! Desperation for a warm place to over the coming winter won out over common sense (if mice even own such a thing as common sense; even most humans seem incapable of it these days…).

Again, I’m not sure how my mind went off on this tangent, but people do the same thing when it comes to abusive relationships. Maybe it’s not warmth (i.e. we may already have a roof overhead for the winter), but companionship. A fear of being alone. It could be economic struggles and the very real exhaustion that comes with it, wanting someone else to share the burden of this mortal life. And so…and while I know men also find themselves in abusive situations, I see more women friends going back…that seemingly intelligent woman either enters into a new relationship out of some sense of need, or worse, goes back to a relationship that had already proven itself abusive.

It’s this last where the mouse metaphor comes from. Like the mouse who’d been cornered by several felines, being batted about like a ping pong ball, who runs back in to those felines after being set free of their abuse, so often does the human run back. And, like the mouse whose intellect and sanity I questioned, those of us seeing this return to abuse, often question the sanity and intellect of the human who did likewise. Shame on us!

The good Lord humbled me several years ago with an abusive relationship. I used to judge those harshly who never seemed able to leave their abuser. I would scoff at their defense of, “But I love him/her!”

Until it happened to me.

No, I wasn’t physically abused by this person, though he threatened to do so at one point, but I endured a lot of mental and emotional abuse. And, still, to this day, wonder why I did. I, too, am an intelligent creature. Yet I stayed. And, yes, while it definitely wasn’t “The One”, there was at least a level of infatuation with this person. No, I don’t think the mouse loves my cats, or is even infatuated with them. But, like the mouse, I kept hoping things would change for the better…until I finally realized the only way that would happen was if I made the change happen by ending the relationship…instead of repeating the same actions and hoping for a different outcome.

I was able to do that. Not everyone has the courage to do so. More importantly, not everyone has the confidence to do so. Not everyone can reach the point where I did of thinking, “Even if I struggle harder financially, I will be better off without this person in my life” and so, I released the toxin. I also had the advantage of owning the house so I wasn’t faced with any practical considerations.

I was lucky. He wasn’t obsessive. He didn’t keep coming back, harassing me, or threatening me in any way. I haven’t heard from him but once since and it was brief. For many, their abuser is obsessive. Their abuser is a lot like my cats who, even after I have put said mouse outside in the hopes that he/she will seek safer enclaves, will continue to search this house high and low for their prey. Hours will pass with such single-minded purpose…until either the mouse comes back, or another victim crosses their line of sight. In short, we can’t change the abuser, unless they want to change. Put a mouse in this house and my cats won’t even come down for breakfast, an event they usually won’t miss on pain of death (no pun intended). And, for the mouse, unless he/she actually finds a cozier spot to occupy, will eventually meet that end. His is a simpler need of simple warmth and a food source. For humans, it’s a bit more complex given human emotions, the usual brainwashing of the abuser, etc. But, often, once a human is finally free of that toxic relationship, those who supported them on their journey out of it, forget about them. Yes, maybe they seem “needy”, and we find ourselves exhausted by that need, but loneliness can erode even the most iron will or confidence.

No, I’m not thinking of going back to any toxic relationships. I have shared often about my own financial difficulties. And, yes, occasionally, I do find myself thinking, “I wish I had that partner to at least bolster me up when my confidence–and faith–flags”. But, because I’m in such a place, I refuse to even entertain such a thing. It would be extremely unfair to another human being. And neither of us would ever be sure if we chose each other because we liked each other…or because we needed each other. That’s often how toxic relationships start in the first place. Like the mouse in this metaphor, I would be better served focusing on the scent of feline.

Now, what the heck was in my Chai tea this morning??? Lol!

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Abuse, Animals, Appreciation, Bereavement, Birthday Wishes, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Compassion, Exhaustion, Faith, Friendship, Frugality, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Human rights, Humanity First, Poverty, Prayer, Scripture, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Sleep Deprivation, Spirituality, Understanding, Writing

True Poverty

Lisa Burbank

“Mocking the poor is mocking the God who made them. He will punish those who rejoice at others’ misfortunes.” (Proverbs 17:5)

I received an invite to an outing to go whale watching from a cousin recently…which was then recanted after seeing my Go Fund Me campaign link on Facebook. Of course, nothing was said initially. As the date of the outing was coming up, I messaged her to ask if we were still on. She didn’t want me to feel “bad”. I’m not sure exactly what that meant but, I want to believe her heart was in the right place, and that she was simply being sensitive to my financial difficulties. I sincerely hope she wasn’t thinking I might “mooch” off of her, or others, in order to go. The expense was minor and, despite my situation, I would have enjoyed the outing…as a day of respite, perhaps, from my situation. I confess to feeling rather hurt, even if good intentions were meant.

It seems a common theme these days.

For those of you new to this blog, I fractured my shoulder two years ago and lost a full-time position as a result from my injury. I have yet to find full-time work again and am behind many months on my mortgage. It has gone into foreclosure…and even Covid allowances aren’t doing much to stall the progression. My inability to get the vaccine is making it harder to find that full-time position, even if I trusted the “poke” enough to do so. I have new neighbors who got themselves on the Planning & Zoning Board and are challenging my right to farm, to raise livestock, despite having engaged a zoning attorney over a dozen years ago and getting the okay to do so. Now I have beloved animals at risk if I cannot find an attorney to take on this case…and, of course, pay him/her to do so. The roof leaks. There’s mold growing. Something is driving my electric bill up to $700 each month (from $100) and the electric company sends me to Community Action who sends me back to the electric company to find out what it is and try to remedy it. The yard is overgrown, as usual, because I lack the proper tools to keep it up…or the means of hiring out for what I cannot do myself. I’m getting the runaround from the DMV. And I have nowhere to go if I can’t save my property and pets that I cannot bear to lose.

All of this bearing down on me, and I’m trying hard not to succumb to “victim mode”, but I really hate how society treats those who are either inherently poor (i.e. from birth), or simply have fallen on hard times.

I may have recanted the aforementioned outing myself after taking a careful look at my finances. I do work. I do have some income coming into my home. It’s just not enough to cover all of my expenses yet. So, while I appreciate the concern, it would’ve been nice to have been asked/reminded of the outing and still be regarded as a thinking, feeling human being…

Even if I had determined FOR MYSELF that, no, I couldn’t handle this expense this month (I get paid monthly by the library where I work).

The poor, the downtrodden, the down-on-their-luck individuals are half-humans for most of society. We’re too stupid to manage our own money…even though I lived on the savings, 401K and other investments that most experts advise for two whole years after being laid off in 2009 from a corporate position.

“We brought our poverty, or difficulties, onto ourselves”…even though we work whatever menial job comes our way and carefully budget, save, practice a frugality that most of society would never be able to handle if they were in our shoes, and either we were born into poverty already and so have a tougher climb up the ladder of success, or our difficulties are the result of a recession, depression, or an injury or illness. Not sure how that equates to bringing it all on ourselves but, so be it.

“We don’t want to work”…oftentimes, the poor in this world work harder than anyone but, wages, and hours available, seldom keep pace with the cost of basic needs. Despite the media hyping a “booming” job market, most are still part-time endeavors…and now we have mandates crippling our economy even more.

The financially-challenged are not allowed to have any enjoyment. God forbid you should have pets. Or buy a pizza for dinner on a rare occasion…even if you save some of it for lunch the next couple of days and, thus, get multiple meals out of it.

Yes, I’m angry. Yes, maybe feeling a little sorry for myself. But, more, I’m feeling a sense of loneliness that has this computer screen blurring even as I type. When you’ve been struggling as long as I have, there’s a sense of apathy that settles over you. Anxiety and depression war inside in an endless cycle that can often be crippling.

Yes, I’m partly to blame for my loneliness. I don’t reach out. I don’t pick up the phone just to call and say “hello” or find out how others are doing, but rarely does anyone do likewise for me. Mom and I could die over here and it would be weeks before anyone discovered our remains. Granted, in my apathy, in the uncertainty that such financial struggles bring, I have let everything go. My home is a fright so I don’t invite anyone in. I’ve gained weight, been eating mostly unhealthy, and most of my social interaction has been work…or the doctor’s office (I have a stress test coming up). I sleep a lot more but, it’s rarely solid. The mind races at night when all is quiet. Insomnia visits from time to time…as do nightmares and chronic fatigue syndrome. In short, I’m suddenly ashamed and I don’t want friends seeing how badly things have gotten. I am overwhelmed. And pride goeth before the fall.

Of course, I know the Adversary uses all of this to whisper his lies, to drag us down further and further away from God…and humanity. I’m not worthy. I’m unloved. God has forgotten me. I’ve used up all of His grace. The litany drones on. Rather than praise, my prayer life–when I remember it–has been a pathetic begging to be taken out of this storm. Maybe my lack of attention to the blessings He’s already bestowed upon me is part of the problem…even as I acknowledge the lack of means to provide some of that upkeep. (See how the Adversary works…)

And yet, I’m mindful that He is teaching me a lesson in all of this, too. Like many others, I never really recovered from the Great Recession so, when I fractured that shoulder, there was much less to fall back on to sustain me. Since 2009 I have had to swallow my pride many times to visit food pantries, apply for heating assistance and medical coverage through the state, and a host of other things just to survive. I used to judge others…much the same way I am lamenting being judged. I looked down my nose, rejected friendships from anyone who might be too “needy”. Now the shoe is on the other foot and, yes, it pinches. Bad…

But the greatest lesson of all has been three-fold. First and foremost, I cannot do this without Him. He’s asking me to rely on Him. To trust Him…no matter what happens. To believe that He still loves me, always has, always will. That’s a tough one for a survivor of abuse, the concept of a loving Father in heaven. The Adversary’s still whispering doubt in my ear even as I type. Proof that I need to draw closer to Him in this storm, rather than reject and withdraw.

Second is to remember that picking up that phone costs nothing. Even in my own need, there are others who could also use a friend…and it’s nice to be remembered “just because”. Walmart sells boxes of generic cards for under $2 each. A remembered birthday, a sympathy card when a friend loses a loved one, a get-well-soon might be appreciated far more than a quick blurb on Facebook. And it’s always nice to be asked.

The third part is to start sharing my life again…even if it is in chaos. Rare am I going to have posts about some amazing workshop that I attended or an outing I enjoyed; it’s simply not possible. And, while I hate constantly posting about my situation, maybe those kinds of posts would be less if I wrote more consistently about other things…and not just when my anxiety is through the roof and I’m in need of an outlet.

To everything there is a season…and I still have hope that He has a plan in all of this.

May God bless you & keep you!

Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Culture, Diversity, Healing, History, Holidays, Human rights, Humanity First, Lent, Religion, Scripture, Understanding

Falling Behind

Lisa Burbank

“Now as for you, dear brothers, who are waiting for the Lord’s return, be patient, like a farmer who waits until the autumn for his precious harvest to ripen. Yes, be patient. And take courage, for the coming of the Lord is near.” (James 5:7-8)

I missed the First Day of Spring, Ostara, and Nowruz greetings this past Saturday. I missed St. Patrick’s Day, St. Joseph’s Day, Presidents’ Day, Lent, Valentine’s Day, Groundhog’s Day, St. Brigid’s, Candlemas and Imbolc, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day and even New Year’s Day–including the Chinese New Year (2021 is the Year of the Dragon, by the way!). I’m probably missing a few others, too.

As for the usual commitments, I never picked a theme song for the year. However, that being said, in light of all the escalating hate crimes, I think I’m going to keep the collaboration between Mandisa, Kirk Franklin and Tobymac, “We All Bleed the Same,” for another year. It is, sadly, still befitting. And something we should all remember.

Our Asian brothers and sisters are NOT responsible for coronavirus coming to these shores; please stop beating them up or shooting them in their places of business. It is especially heartbreaking to see that it is mostly the elderly, and women, who seem to be the targets of such cowardice.

Our Black brethren deserve to feel the same sense of safety and security walking down the streets as their Caucasian brothers and sisters; ditto for feeling safe in their homes. There’s a reason why we should never forget names like Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery. Our Black brethren also deserve the right to vote…and to have that vote count. If your candidate, whether in the House or Senate, the Presidency, or local government, lost because more people voted this time around than in any other point in history, suppressing that vote is not the answer. Scratching your head until you come up with real solutions to the issues that matter most to Americans should, instead, be your course of action. Your candidate lost because they demonstrated more concern with Party authoritarianism than We, the People they were hired to serve (eh, we’re beyond Party “loyalty” at this point…on both sides of the aisle).

The flip side of one of these pleas is that not every officer in blue is guilty of either racial profiling or brutality; I know quite a few who were just as outraged that George Floyd was not let up from under a knee when he said he couldn’t breathe. There were even some police units that marched with Black Lives Matter protestors this past summer in a show of solidarity.

Every member of the Muslim community is NOT responsible for 9/11, nor do they want to kill everyone who believes differently from them. Instead, our Muslim brethren are typically warm and caring individuals who came to these shores for the same reasons other immigrants came here. Get to know them, lose the fear bred by ignorance.

Yes, the Holocaust really happened and over 6 million of our Jewish brethren lost their lives because of Nazi terrorism and evil. Denying it is a slap in the face. Like our Muslim brethren, Jewish people are also typically warm and caring individuals. Get to know them, lose the fear bred by ignorance.

Our Latinx brothers and sisters are NOT taking your jobs. Neither are they “animals” or “vermin”. Most are hard-working and, again, are coming here for many of the same reasons every other immigrant has come to these shores.

This same litany of ignorance and distrust has been perpetuated against every immigrant who has ever graced these shores since Columbus set foot here back in 1492. The only “thieves” in the mix are the earliest settlers to these United States who called our First Nations’ brothers and sisters “heathens” and “savages”, accused them of being “animals” and “murderers”, forced them off their lands and onto reservations, tried to wipe away every trace of Native American heritage, and sold many to the Caribbean as slaves.

On the issue of slavery, yes, we do have much in the way of reparations to our Black brothers and sisters to give. I have no doubt some of these families would have found their way to these shores like every other immigrant if left to do so freely. However, most did not come here freely. And, because these “immigrants” came here as chattel, even tracing their lineage is more challenging than for any other demographic of people. Like our Jewish brethren who lost so much during the Holocaust, it is a slap in the face to all of the men, women, and children who lost their lives to that “peculiar institution,” and to the myriad hate crimes that have dogged their steps ever since.

Going back to immigration, it hasn’t only been people of color who have experienced hate and violence at the hands of those U.S. citizens who came here before them. In the 1840s, the doors and windows to nearly every business held a sign that said: “Irish need not apply” or “No Irish”. That is until factory owners realized they could hire two young Irish girls for less than they paid the skilled American worker…and fired the latter. I could be wrong, but I believe that was one of the earliest episodes of an immigrant being reportedly “taking our jobs”.

The truth of it all is that our country has progressively become the richer for every wave of immigrants that have come to these shores. Don’t believe me? Take a look at the list of holidays I neglected to celebrate. We have Catholic, Protestant, Muslim and Wiccan holidays listed. Irish, Italian, Black, and Asian celebrations, too. In a couple of weeks it will be Easter (Christian), Passover (Jewish), and Ramadan (Muslim). And Cinco de Mayo is just around the corner.

Where else in the world can you find such diversity? We not only bleed the same, we bleed together when we cannot love our neighbors as ourselves.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Yearnings

Lisa Burbank

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

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

But I perpetually yearn for a simpler life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That doesn’t mean I give up entirely though.

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

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Running the Gamut

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s only part of the dream.

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

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

How’s that for a sales’ pitch?

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

May God bless you & keep you!

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A Plea for the Anti-Anti-Vaxxers

Lisa Burbank

“The wise are promoted to honor, but fools are promoted to shame!” (Proverbs 3:35)

I’m struggling here. I know the whole vaccine thing is a heated debate. However, I’m a little disturbed by some of the stories I’m hearing about the upcoming Covid-19 vaccine potentially being mandatory. They may just be “stories” but…

Hell, NO!

I am even more concerned about the abuse heaped upon those of us who choose not to get vaccines. We’re labeled selfish, insensitive, arrogant. I’ve even heard of people being physically accosted for their stand.

Yes, I understand the need to protect against another future pandemic. I understand that, in most cases, vaccines save lives. And I’m not necessarily an “anti-vaxxer” in the usual sense. I mean, I was vaccinated as a child against polio and small pox, and a host of other diseases, just like everyone else. If I had children, they would have gotten those vaccines just like every other kid. And, though there’s some controversy about the potential side effects of these childhood vaccinations, none of those side effects is death. These diseases kill…as does Covid-19, in some cases.

However, back in 2015, I had a bad reaction to a tetanus vaccine. I spiked 105 degrees, wound up back in the ER…and spent the next two weeks in a constant state of panic that I was going to die. The headaches that made it so I couldn’t even open my eyes; the serious brain “fog” that has never entirely left me; the constant fever surges, and the uncontrollable shivers that shook me, even as I burrowed under multiple quilts in 90+ degree temperatures, were terrifying. My doc believes that I had a reaction to either a preservative, or a carrier, not the tetanus vaccine itself as this was not my first tetanus.

But how can I be sure?

My doc also said that the next time will potentially be worse…and that those same preservatives/carriers are used for most vaccines, including flu, pneumonia, and shingles. Again, there is no way of knowing for sure. So I now wear one of those medical bracelets. Inside is a little card that says, “No TDP/TDAP, No Vaccines!” because the next time, I may not be merely terrified about dying. I am not a human guinea pig. And nobody else should be either…unless they choose to take the risk that they will be okay with any new vaccine.

You see, it’s all about choice. And that’s what a free society is all about.

No, I do not wish to harm anyone in any intentional way. I do not wish to spread this virus further. I wear a mask and gloves out in public; I wash my hands thoroughly. I clean door knobs and steering wheels, etc. with Clorox wipes. I’m staying home except for necessary trips to the grocery store, the feed store, etc.

But I’m not getting a vaccine. For me, it would be the equivalent of playing Russian roulette. And I’m not much of a gambler.

I recognize the fear; I truly do. We have this invisible enemy that we should all be working to defeat…and yet, we’re attacking each other instead.

Perhaps because our fellow human beings are more tangible than a virus.

Again, I’m not really an anti-vaxxer. I’ve had vaccines and, with the exception of that “bad” tetanus 5 years’ ago, there’s been no harm done…and I’ve avoided deadly diseases. I am certainly not telling anyone not to get the vaccine once it is available.

However, for all of the people who get in someone’s face and start ranting and raving, and even threatening someone, for not getting a vaccine–whatever that vaccine may be, or their reasons for not getting it–please stop and put yourself in their shoes for a moment. If you’re reading this, please consider that maybe this person has had a similar reaction as the one I shared here today and they fear more for their life with the vaccine than without it. Maybe they’re not being selfish at all.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Stay tuned…

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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Blessed Be the Name of the Lord

Lisa Burbank

“There are ‘friends’ who pretend to be friends, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” (Proverbs 18:24)

I had one of the most heartening experiences yesterday morning.

Mom and I rarely get visitors here even when there isn’t a pandemic. Though we live in Connecticut, we are transplanted Rhode Islanders. And Rhode Islanders are a rare breed. Because you can literally drive from one end of the state to the other in, roughly, an hour’s time, anything more is the equivalent to living on the moon. Mom and I being, roughly, that hour away from most family members, live all the way “out there”. So, you can imagine my surprise when I heard a knock on the door around 8 a.m. during a pandemic.

Sadly, I didn’t answer. I was still in my pj’s, on my way to take a bath, and Mom was still in bed. I also didn’t immediately recognize the truck parked behind my car (single female).

So I waited.

And then felt a moment’s perplexity (as well as a twinge of guilt) when I finally did recognize the woman walking back from my mailbox in the pouring rain: the owner of my local feed store. By the time I could throw my Wellingtons on and a jacket, she was gone. She left a note in my mailbox. As I hadn’t been into the store in a while, she was concerned and checking to make sure Mom and I were okay. I called her back to reassure her.

I know it sounds like a little thing but, especially in this pandemic when everyone is afraid of reaching out, that someone would make such an effort warmed my heart. She didn’t have to stop; in fact, she could have put herself at serious risk if either Mom and/or I hadn’t been feeling okay. However, her concern was stronger than caution. She told me when I called that she had actually had someone post on their website that we might be in need of help. However, I hadn’t been in because I did a little panic shopping for hay and feed a few weeks’ back. Not hoarding, just giving myself a little bit of a buffer until this thing passes. Apparently, people have noticed the fewer visits than normal and some, like my neighbor from the store, cared enough to check.

We may be quarantined, distancing ourselves, but we humans were not meant to be islands unto ourselves. We are a community. And never does that community rise with warmth and intention more than when we face a crisis such as this one.

Take that, Covid-19.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Prepping

Lisa Burbank

“Finally the day came when the Lord said to Noah, ‘Go into the boat with all your family, for among all the people of the earth, I consider you alone to be righteous. Bring in the animals, too–a pair of each, except those kinds I have chosen for eating and for sacrifice: take seven pairs of each of them, and seven pairs of every kind of bird. Thus there will be every kind of life reproducing again after the flood has ended. One week from today I will begin forty days and nights of rain; and all the animals and birds and reptiles I have made will die’. So Noah did everything the Lord commanded him.” (Genesis 7:1-5)

The lights keep flickering. The forecast is for heavy rains (check) and high winds (also, check) with potential power outages. This last may be a “check” before the day is out. We’re still in the middle of a pandemic that could take the lives of hundreds of thousands in the U.S. before it is done. Our economy has been nearly frozen. Millions of jobs have been lost; mostly part-time jobs were to be had before the pandemic shutdown. Groceries are flying off the shelves. Ditto for toilet paper and cleaning supplies. Economists are predicting a depression that will rival the 1930’s. On a personal note, foreclosure has been eminent here at The Herbal Hare Homestead since last year’s battle with the icy driveway.

I’ve been “playing” at homesteading over the last 5-6 years. Financial struggles have left me on the fence about truly investing the time and energy into developing this place into the self-sufficient enterprise that I have envisioned. Confidence issues have gotten in the way, too. As has a personal struggle to get Mom on board with some of the more extreme projects.

Thanks to Covid-19, Mom is actually the one suggesting prepping. Working together, I know we can make this work.

As for the back mortgage payments, I’m considering swallowing my pride and filing bankruptcy so I can start clean again. At present, I am still employed. Albeit, it’s part-time employment but, if I do the work while I’m at home with this enforced quarantine, by the time work starts back up again, I may have a few supplemental incomes ready to roll.

My biggest obstacle though is myself. Yes, I procrastinate. But, more, I have a tendency to lose focus. I’ve never been tested, but I would be willing to bet, that I have some form of ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). I do have anxiety issues; that can rob you of focus all by itself…and may be all there is to it. So, for the last week that I’ve been MIA on this blog, I’ve been creating detailed outlines about my homestead and where I want to go; about my writing; even about this blog and the direction I am hoping to take it, the content I am hoping to share as the days, weeks, months go forward. I’m even writing multiple blog posts on the weekend to copy and paste in WordPress each day so that I have time for all of the many endeavors I’ve set for myself. It will give me more time with my book instead of an either/or writing habit. You see, I want this blogging thing to remain sustainable. I also want to finish my book. And, once I’m back to the “day” job, it won’t be sustainable to do both…unless, of course, I write everything on the weekend. So, that’s the start of it.

And what about my faith? You ask.

Somehow, I don’t feel that prepping, as much as one is able, for disaster(s) is a sign that I’m losing faith. Just look at Noah. I feel that this prepping is an outward expression of obeying the warnings He is putting on my heart.

Our healthcare system is broken.

Our economic system is broken.

Our housing system is broken.

Our educational system is broken.

Our election process is broken.

Even, and especially, our government is broken…no matter what side of the political aisle you stand upon.

Almost all of this brokenness stems from a.) A love of money and materialism, and b.) An inability to truly live the teachings of our faith, which is to love our brothers and sisters as ourselves. Perhaps it’s because so many of us don’t have any self-love. I’m not talking about cultivating a selfish heart, nor am I talking about narcissism, but a healing, appreciating kind of love that values “self” as a child of the Creator. Today, any outward expression of belief is frowned upon in our modern society. It might offend some people. So we leave it at the door.

Yet the non-believers can belittle and post their hateful rhetoric on social media…or spout it on the boob-tube on a regular basis.

I’m done with it.

I’m not ashamed of my God.

Nor of a renewed determination to live more intentionally, more sustainably…and, of course, more faithfully.

And, while it may seem crazy to invest myself in an—for all practical purposes—uncertain future here in Connecticut, I’m trusting Him. He has a plan. For my life. For your life. For even a frightening pandemic and its subsequent shutdown of all things “normal” in our society.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Sunday Cyber-Service

Lisa Burbank

“Remember to observe the Sabbath as a holy day. Six days a week are for your daily duties and your regular work, but the seventh day is a day of Sabbath rest before the Lord your God. On that day you are to do no work of any kind, nor shall your son, daughter, or slaves–whether men or women–or your cattle or your house guests. For in six days the Lord made the heaven, earth and sea, and everything in them, and rested the seventh day; so He blessed the Sabbath day and set it aside for rest.” (Exodus 20: 8-11)

So this feels just a little awkward…so I guess I’m on the right track. God loves to take us out of our comfort zones. He wants us to trust Him…even in the midst of coronavirus. Actually, I should amend that: especially in the midst of coronavirus. And, while this isn’t exactly a traditional service, I’m going to start by sharing a song by Christian artist, Zach Williams, called “Old Church Choir”. Though I can carry a tune myself, just for today, I’m leaving it to the pros. Let’s lift the somber mood of these past few weeks just a little bit:

For everyone reading this today, I hope that the prayers and Scripture I offer, even the music I share, will enrich your day, your week, and bring you solace and hope in a seemingly chaotic situation. Truly, faith in Something–Someone–greater than one’s self is the only thing that does bring hope in the face of chaos and adversity.

And the adversities we face today are unlike any that we have seen in 80, 90 years.

I don’t share that to overwhelm, or to spread further terror. It’s to bring this situation into perspective. There’s been so much anger masking fear and uncertainty, so much finger pointing–something of which yours truly has been guilty–and it only excerbates the situation…both in our hearts, and in our communities. Yes, we are seeing who the *true* leaders are, and those whose hearts the Adversary’s lies have settled into as well. And, no, they’re not the ones closing down even the churches. The officials that have closed nearly every door are doing so to save lives, to prevent the spread of illness. However, the Adversary is watching this, wringing his hands together at the opportunities he sees before him now that so many of us are not coming together in prayer, to receive Communion and fellowship, to confess our sins of the previous week(s), and to seek forgiveness. I say we pray without ceasing, giving praise to the One who is truly in control and has our backs in all of this, effectively binding those wringing hands from doing their dirty work. We have enough to contend with in Covid-19. That’s enough chaos for one community, one country, one world. And, without God, without a belief in Someone greater than ourselves, where will we find the strength to get through the weeks ahead and their endless challenges? Or to resist those adversarial lies?

Yes, you read that correctly: give God praise during this epidemic. He knows what He’s doing, and why. It is our job to trust Him, to believe Him, when He tells us He loves us, that He has our best interests at heart. Though it may not seem apparent at the moment, He does. He truly does. If we give in to the doubts, and I know it’s difficult not to at a time like this when so many are sick, scared, dying, but this is where He needs us to follow Him ever more closely. He needs us to be steadfast and stand together in solidarity with Him, to root out the lies and bring them into the Light, to bring comfort to those who are afraid, or have suffered loss.

You know, we talk about pulling together during this crisis. And yet, we are being asked, for safety’s sake, to stay apart. It seems a bit of an oxymoron but, while we may not be together physically, we CAN be together in our hearts, in our minds, in spirit…in Spirit. It is, in my opinion, the only way we will get through this crisis.

And that brings me to another point of this post. I’ve talked a lot in previous posts about being an introvert. Truly, it’s not all that difficult being an introvert in America. Our society encourages distance even when things are “normal”. Look at how we are structured. Most people travel to work solo. In fact, I know of plenty of people who look down their noses at people who carpool, or utilize public transit. The auto industry touts independence, freedom of spirit, etc. to sell their products. If you don’t have an automobile of your own, people are scandalized (I have first-hand knowledge). In short, we’re encouraged to be alone in our commutes. Though “tiny houses” are all the rage today as sort of a grassroots’ movement that is gaining some traction in the mainstream, our housing/construction industries push the mantra of bigger being better. Our streets are lined with countless McMansions, surrounded by acres of well-manicured status symbols of lawns that rob us of clean air, clean soil, clean water…even home-grown food so, if for no other reason, we do not starve during an epidemic. We’re disconnected from the earth, from our food, from the animals that sacrifice theirs that we might have life (oftentimes under horrible conditions). More importantly, we’re disconnected from each other. Again, in short, I see millions of “islands”. I get needing elbow room…and we don’t always find “good” neighbors, but in these Islands of Suburbia, we might never know. How many of us, when there isn’t a pandemic, have walked across those acres of useless grass to extend the hand of friendship to those whose multi-acres of McMansion border ours? And, sadly, even within the walls of those McMansions, we remain islands of humanity. Every child must have its own bedroom. We must have a man-cave, or a she-shed. Every human in the house must have their own bathroom, too. I suppose during a pandemic such as this one, we might conclude that the distance between us, even within our own communities, is a good thing to help slow the spread of infection. But do we know how to sit down as a family and share a common meal? Do we even know how to cook a meal without zapping it in a microwave? We’re not running off to countless after-school sporting events, clubs, extra-curricular activities right now. How has that changed the dynamics? Do we know how to entertain ourselves as a family? When was the last time we pulled out a board game? Or a deck of cards? When was the last time we prayed together as a family…outside of our church, temple, synagogue, or mosque? For those of you who have been sitting down together as a family to share a meal, a game, or a prayer, you are truly the wealthy during this crisis. And that’s something we can all appreciate, whether introverted, or extroverted.

Dear Heavenly Father,

I praise you in this “storm”. We truly are at “war” with an enemy we cannot see. But I know that Your Eyes do see this “enemy” and You’ve got this! I praise You for that knowledge. I praise You for the knowledge that You are giving to doctors, nurses, first-responders, scientists, etc. to help heal those who are ill. I praise You, too, for protecting these healthcare workers from contracting the Covid-19 virus themselves; we need all of their expertise. I praise You for lifting every healthcare worker up, relieving their fatigue, and for giving them clarity when it is most needed.

I praise you for every grocery, pet and/or feed store worker, for every pharmacist, for every essential worker who is also on the front lines during this epidemic. I praise you for protecting them also, and the families that they go home to each night.

I praise You for our government officials. I pray that sound minds and compassionate hearts will prevail in this crisis. I praise You for guiding the hands of those who would lead…and showing us just who those people are. I praise You for touching the hearts of those who would profit from the sufferings of others that they might repent and seek You in all future endeavors, bringing Light, instead of the darkness that our world has become.

I praise You for lifting up the hearts of all people everywhere during this epidemic. Where hearts are hungry, provide them Your sustenance. Where hearts are frightened, give them courage. Where hearts are angry, bring them peace. Where hearts are in doubt, fill them with Your grace. And, for those who have lost a loved one to this illness, I praise You for comforting them in their hour of sorrow and loss. Help them to remember that when we are a part of the body and blood of Christ, we are never truly alone. I praise You for the hope that is forever Your name, in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Our Father, who art in heaven
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom Come, thy Will be done.
On earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day, our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses.
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the Kingdom, and the Power,
And the Glory, forever and ever…Amen

May God bless you & keep you!

REFERENCES

Casting Crowns (2008). “Praise You In This Storm (live).” Lifesong (2005), producer by Mark A. Miller, Beach Street/Reunion Records. Neyolov. Retrieved from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ype1xE0wzsg

For King and Country (2015). “Shoulders (Official Music Video).” Run Wild. Live Free. Love Strong, producers Ben Glover, Matt Hales, Seth Mosley and Tedd Tjornhom, Fervent Records alongside Word Records. Retrieved from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TfiYWaeAcRw

Williams, Zach (2017). “Old Church Choir (Official Music Video).” Chain Breaker, producer Jonathan Smith, Essential Records. Vevo. Retrieved from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOEviTLJOqo&list=RDyOEviTLJOqo&start_radio=1