Category: Scripture

Basket Weaving, Coppicing, Creativity, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Herbs, Homesteading, Nature, permaculture, Prepping, Scripture, Trees

Coppiced Hope

Lisa Burbank

“For there is hope for a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease.” (Job 14:7)

I have a short stack of books checked out on coppicing trees. A few years’ ago, I watched a YouTube video about a man who coppices the trees on his land for firewood to heat his home. It struck a chord.

When I first started with the notion of homesteading, my original plan was to move to a bigger property. But then I started watching videos, reading blogs, magazine articles and books about people homesteading right where they are, right now. And it got me thinking: what can I do here?

Originally, I thought I could tap the many maple trees in my yard for syrup and sugar…until I learned the difference in maple trees and discovered that my maple trees are mostly Norway maples, an invasive species to Connecticut that does NOT produce maple syrup.

Despite their invasiveness, the Norway maples are beautiful. So I’ve let them stay.

However, one of the reasons they’re considered invasive is because they grow fast. They also throw their seeds everywhere and it doesn’t take long for a new sapling to grow up. I have a young one growing through my fence as we speak (definitely NOT optimum). A also have a few that grew close together over the years so that they appear to share one trunk that has split in multiple directions. A friend of mine cut a couple of those splits, leaving a few feet of trunk standing. This was years ago, and I was furious at the time, but new shoots have grown up from that cut stump. I have an endless supply of firewood right at my disposal…if I learn how to manage it all correctly.

I know about as much about coppicing as I did about maple syrup. Hence, the stack of books on coppicing that I have checked out from the library. About all I do know is I will have to invest in a chainsaw and, probably, a decent ladder. (Again, I’m a complete novice…)

One of the books talks about planting willow where there’s a lot of wet, boggy land (Van Driesche 215-217). I have that, too, towards the back of the property. My ducks love it, but they’re about the only ones who do as the grass grows in thick tufts and any lawnmower gets stuck trying to cut it down (I’m also looking at learning how to use a scythe…). Willow can be debarked to make baskets. And the straight whips will also make good stakes for the garden when needed. I don’t know if I have enough boggy land for this last endeavor (although basket weaving is something I have enjoyed in the past…). It might behoove me to simply plant some water-loving herbs, like Joe Pye Weed, Black Cohosh and Solomon’s Seal (the latter doesn’t like its feet too wet…). That might be enough to mitigate the muddy mess.

But there’s hope springing in my heart as I contemplate the many potential ways I might make this little one acre holding work for me.

What are some of the possibilities you see from where you are right now? I guarantee you, if you put your mind to it, they may prove endless.

May God bless you & keep you!

Works Cited

Van Driesche, Emmet (2019). Carving Out a Living on the Land. Chelsea Green Publishing, Vermont.

19th century, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Community, Compassion, Culture, Family, Finances, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, History, Human rights, Nostalgia, Politics, Poverty, Scripture, Self-esteem

Seeking Humility

Lisa Burbank

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14)

Oh, it’s so easy to get caught up in the political propaganda machine! Yes, there was a political post two weeks’ ago before the election. I tried to stay middle of the road, but in my most honest moments, I did stray further to the right than the left in my commentary. These days my more conservative side is shining through over that part of me that is often liberal.

But this is neither here nor there.

The true test of my mettle has been since election night. I’ve wanted to cheer and do a happy dance (yes, me, the never-Trumper). But that’s the equivalent of rubbing salt in a wound for those whose candidate did not win. So I’ve contented myself with a simple: “Congratulations, Mr. Trump & Mr. Vance! God bless America!” on social media. Neither of these men are likely to see it, and even if they do, I’m a faceless name in a sea of posts, but I didn’t want to gloat.

Okay. Yes, I did. But, again, I chose to listen to the guy with the halo on my shoulder rather than the one with the pitchfork this time.

To make sure the point got driven home, He chose last week to cut off my wi-fi. Two rapid changes in wi-fi providers meant a billing statement got lost in the shuffle. Thankfully, it was a relatively easy fix, but it made me think about all of the people in this country for whom this wouldn’t be an easy fix.

Since last Tuesday, I’ve read a lot of posts decrying that far too many Americans chose money over morals. It’s an ugly suggestion that smacks at the biblical admonishment about the love of money being the root of all evil. Love of money is more like the character of Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ classic, A Christmas Carol: it’s where you love the coins piling up more than the good you could do with that money and piling it up becomes your only aim. It’s also where you put the earning of money before time spent with family making memories, where we value the bigger, fancier house and car, and dream vacations, over what should matter more: faith, family, friends.

That’s not what people voted for.

We live in a cash society. It’s something I lament nearly every day of my life. My years in living history taught me how much more freedom our ancestors had when they could bring a pail of old rags into a country store, have them weighed up, and receive so much credit in the store for them. (This is an example; there were many more commodities that could be bartered for what we needed) The shopkeeper would then take those rags, plus the rags delivered by other patrons, to the paper manufacturers and trade them for reams of paper to stock in his store. Very little coin was ever exchanged, but each had what they needed to survive (we manufactured paper out of cloth until 1954; many older readers might remember the rag man coming to call…). Community seemed to have a much deeper meaning then.

But that’s not the world we live in today. The first, and each subsequent, industrial revolution changed all of that. As mass-produced goods became more readily available, we chose convenience over quality…both in goods, and in life, but don’t get me started down that rabbit hole!

We live in a cash society. If we want to feed our families, instead of working our own farm and growing and/or raising our own food, most work a 9-to-5, receive a paycheck, and then go to the grocery store for our sustenance (I also won’t go down the rabbit hole about the “food” lining the aisles of that store…). We have to pay a mortgage, or rent, each month for shelter. We pay for our heating and lighting sources, and every other “extra” in our lives.

It wasn’t love of money that gave us the election results. It was the necessity of having enough money in this cash society, or of making our dollars stretch far enough in it, that we don’t go hungry…or find ourselves at risk of eviction, or foreclosure. As I was just recently hovering over the latter, I take exception to those who suggest we chose money over morals.

Our economy is tanked. GDP and unemployment numbers, as my fellow Democrats, shouted loudly and proudly during Trump’s last tenure, are NOT a true measure of how our economy is doing. The Democrats may have changed their tune in the last few years, but it doesn’t make that statement any less true. The numbers may look good on paper, per se, but if those numbers are not reflected in an improved quality of life for we the people, yes, we’re going to vote for the person promising cheaper energy, lower taxes and interest rates, better jobs, and the overall improvement of our lives as a result.

Like so many of my fellow Americans, despite being once again right-side-up on my mortgage payments–something I feel immeasurable gratitude for each and every day–I’m still robbing Peter to pay Paul.

My mishap with the internet was a result of being waylaid at Walmart by representatives from Frontier to switch to their service, then being somewhat unsatisfied with Frontier’s service, and when I called Spectrum to cancel my service with them, being offered a better deal, one that amortized my wi-fi and cellphone services into one bill that basically wiped out the cellphone service I had with T-Mobile. Hey, a savings of $90 a month (two phones) is nothing to sneeze at.

We were humbled further this month when Mom’s bank account was hacked, costing her most of her social security check.

Then the mortgage company sold my mortgage to another bank. There was an inspection fee that got added to my payment this month, another $300. (Yeah, I’m hearing the echo of Andrew Yang and Bernie Sanders both lamenting how “millions of Americans cannot afford an unexpected debt of $300…”)

It’s been a rough month. And I was humbled by another visit to the local food pantry.

It was there that true humility rippled through me. First, I was mortified to stand there again (pride goeth…). Then I saw some of my patrons to the library standing in line. Holy crap!

So many social media posts from fellow Democrats point the finger at those standing in that line as having brought their circumstances upon themselves, usually in the form of “they don’t take advantage of the opportunities they’ve been given” or “they don’t want to work”. These are the same people who attacked their Republican neighbors between 2017-2020 for pointing the same fingers. I was doing the same thing: judging others unfavorably, making assumptions that had no real grounds at all.

I was even judging myself unfavorably…how quickly we forget!

Maybe I’m not showing true humility to point out the hypocrisy of others here, especially when I share in it, but it saddens me because this shaming of those who are in need is a societal tumor. I hesitated to reach for help because of it. How many more suffer in silence, too far beaten down, afraid and ashamed to reach out to a society that judges them so unfairly?

I stand guilty as charged.

Still, and maybe it’s because I have been on both sides of this societal tumor, in my heart, I feel there is a need to call it out. There is a need to humble myself first and foremost, and to shine a light on the hypocrisy of others…and the division it causes. Will it make a difference? If it does so only in the heart of one single individual, then I’ve achieved my goal.

He reminded me of where I was just a year ago.

You see, as I stood in that line, I knew the circumstances of some of these people. I saw them everyday at work. I have talked with them. And, in my heart, I have loved them as friends and acquaintances. I know about the woman whose husband collapsed on the porch and has to have surgery. I know the man in the wheelchair, the one who was homeless until an accident took his ability to walk. I know that young mother trying to raise her children alone.

How would they handle an additional $300 this month for their shelter? How would they survive if their bank account was hacked? Most of them probably don’t even have internet or wi-fi at home. Many of those faces visit the library to use ours.

Suddenly, I felt blessed. I have so much. Yes, there is still want. There are still some needs in my life not being met. There is still a struggle going on, but I feel blessed…because the stories of my neighbors are also my story. They’re not stories of some defect of character, as those pointing the finger suggest, but the stories of a nation gone sadly awry and in need of a helping hand as much as each individual in that line. Incidentally, that line was wrapped around the building where we congregated…a 12,000 square foot building in a community of less than 9000 souls.

So, no, we didn’t vote for money over morals. Quite the opposite. We voted to help our fellow Americans, our neighbors and friends, find the means to pick themselves up by those proverbial bootstraps and the dignity that comes with earning one’s way in the world. We voted, too, for that sense of community that helps to lift those up whose circumstances won’t allow them to pick themselves up without a little help. Needing help shouldn’t be something that leaves our neighbors so ashamed that they don’t reach out for that help. It should be something that leaves those of us more fortunate ashamed for judging those who need a little–or even a lot–of help.

Because we’re all one family…God’s family. And when just one of us hurts, we all hurt. We voted to stop the hurting.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Compassion, Culture, Nostalgia, Politics, Scripture

Embracing My Luddite

Lisa Burbank

“Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.” (1 John 4:20)

Yeah, being a called a Luddite by a friend got under my skin a little bit…mainly, because it’s true.

Yes, I am sitting here typing away on modern technology. There are plans to leverage more technology in the form of a YouTube channel, and possible podcast. And I don’t have any fantasies about destroying Microsoft’s main database the way the original Luddites destroyed the first mechanized textile mills in England, so I don’t quite fit the mold.

However, I do dream of living as close to the 1830s as humanly possible in this modern age. As long as I can pump clean water out of a well somewhere, I can be happy.

I was raised Catholic and continue to be a practicing one. Our doctrine isn’t quite in line with our Amish neighbors, but I can totally understand–and get behind–their aversion to electricity. It really does create idols…and a weakening of the flesh as we grow dependent upon these gadgets of “convenience”.

Worse, in some cases, we start behaving as if we’re gods trying to decide and control the choices for others.

I’ve been the keyboard warrior. When you can’t see the faces of your loved ones on the other side of the screen, it’s easy to forget that you’re talking to a person…with a heart and a mind and all of the human struggles that go along with it. I try to stay cognizant of this but, as I’ve written many times before, I sometimes fail.

Especially when former political party mates start circling my social media posts like sharks coming in for blood.

I will be glad when this election cycle is over. Sad to think that this is the new measure of what should be an exciting and empowering time for all of us. There’s always been mudslinging in politics, but it’s really gotten out of hand.

And, amazingly, both parties are accusing each other of becoming authoritarian…let that one sink in!

There are NO aspiring Hitlers running for president nor does she look like a camel. Instead, we have a father and a grandfather who has had the integrity to start his children in the lowest jobs on the construction site so they can understand and appreciate their privilege, as well as the struggles of those without that privilege, before he hands over the responsibility of the whole. And, while Kamala Camel might be a cute name for a picture book character, it’s beneath us all to attack a person on their appearance (yes, I know he’s been orange man…), or even their personality. Sometimes a veneer of ditziness masks a brilliant mind…as does crude speech. Attack their policies, if you disagree with them. Attack their record as either a former president, or as a former DA, AG and VP. But get rid of the personal attacks. There’s a person on the other side of that screen.

What are their policies? Is it realistic to expect they can deliver on their promises? How will those policies play out in the long run? Will they solve the problems the average American faces?

Because that’s where it counts. That’s where we will all feel the impact of both their failures and their triumphs.

I was Yang gang the last time around. A Berniecrat as second choice. Like Bernie Sanders when he accepted the moniker of “socialist”, as he has often been accused for his proposed policies to help the poor, I am accepting my Luddite title.

In this case, it’s owing to the mess that modern technology is making of our election process. We should go back to paper ballots; technology can too easily be tampered with…without leaving a trace.

We should also go back to the old adage of NOT discussing politics or religion in polite company. Not only is there another person on the other side of the screen, but we’re inviting them to sit down at the table with us for tea every time we engage on social media.

Would you treat them the same way over a cuppa?

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Christianity, Community, Faith, Family, gardening, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Herbs, Homesteading, No-dig Gardening, Prepping, Scripture

Here or There?

Lisa Burbank

“Put your outdoor work in order and get your fields ready; after that, build your house.” (Proverbs 24:27)

Well, that about sums it up. I have trays of chestnuts bedded in soil in the refrigerator with the hopes that they will germinate, putting down roots to be potted out next spring (yeah, there’s a metaphor somewhere in there…). There are plans afoot to purchase some dwarf varieties of fruit trees as well…and maybe an arborist to come look at my apple trees, those that came with this house 20+ years ago, and tell me if they’re worth saving (I hope so! RI Greenings are a pretty awesome tasting apple…).

Planting a tree of any kind is a symbol of hope for the future, a future I may not see, but one I plant anyway.

Oh, I’d love for “The Dream” I’ve shared of more acreage and more animals and endeavors to become a reality. And maybe that’s in His plan for me. Someday…

But, for now, here is home. And it may be the last home I ever have here on earth. I know that sounds morbid, but we never know the number of our days. Here there is a full-time job that I love. More importantly, it’s close to family and friends, and a community of which I enjoy being a part. A community that has been there for me during the tough times, as well as the joyful ones.

That’s nothing to sneeze at.

Yeah, Maine would be awesome. But I’m older now. Do I have it in me to build that home out of cob? Is it even still allowed there? It’s been a long while since I first started planning all of this. And, considering the chestnut trees I’m starting, if it’s to be Maine, I would have to move pretty quick on that dream.

I’m not sure I want to…but I will, of course, go wherever He leads.

The chestnut trees will be potted for their first few years anyway, so it’s still early enough to take them with me…ere the ruminations keep churning round and round.

This house needs some serious work. The sills are rotted in places. The roof needs replacing. The exterior needs a serious paint job…and it’s asbestos siding so, a costly job. Inside, it needs new flooring, new ceilings in some of the rooms, and the walls all need new paint…or wallpaper, which I prefer. But a new paint job will do and it’s the easiest out of that list…it’s also the last one I need worry about.

As the Bible verse above says, I’m getting my outdoor work in order and my fields ready. More raised beds, painted pale green, are going up from as many salvaged materials as I can lay hands on. And then the food forest on that overgrown half-acre. What lines much of the supermarket shelves doesn’t even disguise itself as food anymore so growing my own, especially with the threat of more supply chain interruptions, is important.

Having access to organically-grown natural remedies is also important. The bulk of those raised beds in the front yard will be herbs, most of which flower and look quite attractive.

Then there’s the zoning issues that I thought resolved if I’m to ever raise goats here again, or to consider sheep.

None of this is impossible. Sometimes I think it would be easier to start somewhere else but, I’m starting with here. Because here is what I’ve got. And I am ever so grateful for here.

It’s in His hands, as ultimately everything always is. If there is a “there” in my future, I trust that He will lead me to it, and pave the way to get “there”.

There are endless possibilities no matter which way I look. Amazing to think just a little over a year ago, hope was such a tenacious thing hanging by the most gossamer strands of faith…

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, ecosystems, Environment, God/Jesus, Homesteading, Nature, Scripture

If You Build It, They Will Come

Lisa Burbank

“Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Go to Pharaoh and say to him, ‘This is what the LORD says: Let my people go, so that they may worship me. If you refuse to let them go, I will plague your whole country with frogs.” (Exodus 8:1-2)

If I was Pharaoh, I’m not sure this would’ve been considered a punishment in my eyes. Perhaps Pharaoh didn’t either because, as I remember from Scripture, he didn’t let the Lord’s people go…and in came the frogs. God’s word is true.

I also didn’t built “it”…not intentionally anyway.

A couple of autumns ago, I drained the kiddie pool with which my ducks used to swim. As always, once drained for the winter, I propped it up against the outside wall of the barn to keep the rain from pooling up inside and then freezing, thus, possibly cracking the “pond”. Well, winter winds and/or heavy snows knocked the pool facedown. The following spring, the pool was full of water, but upside down.

Said kiddie pool is quite large, and especially heavy with all that water pooled up on it. The drain is now at the “top”. And, it seems like every time I start bailing the water out of it, we get more rain and it refills. This past spring, I started to bail and noticed some frog eggs amidst the dead leaves and duckweed floating on top of the stagnant water so I left it alone. Come summer and on into fall, I’ve had quite a number of tadpoles swimming around in that “pond”.

This weekend, friend Robert came over to help reinstall the inside door to the basement. There was a point where he needed to use the skill saw, which would produce a lot of sawdust in a small and confining place, so he recommended I step outside until he was done.

I wandered over to the chicken coop to visit with the chooks and ducks (Incidentally, the ducks have been given smaller pools that are easier to manage…there are also fewer ducks these days).

Then I wandered over to the upside-down pool-turned-vernal-pool. The tadpoles have either been eaten by the family of stoats we discovered living under the Florida room floor, have morphed into their adult selves, or have gone deeper since a recent frost (Do tadpoles hibernate like their adult counterparts? Or do they die off in the cold?). However, I found three rather large frogs, and another that looked to be either a juvenile, or perhaps simply another smaller species of frog (or are some of these toads??).

No matter, I am thrilled with my new neighbors and now spend every evening visiting. A vernal pool was in the “future” plans for this homestead; what a blessing to find Mother Nature produced it herself.

May God bless you & keep you!

Politics, Scripture

Scroll On By

Lisa Burbank

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 7:12)

I think I’ve done a post like this before, but it bears repeating. As we get closer and closer to November 5, 2024 here in the U.S. of A., tensions are running hotter and hotter…especially when one of us has confounded some of our friends by switching parties (chuckle).

I’m growing to hate election years…the big election years where we vote for our next president. It’s only a little kinder this time than it was in 2020, but maybe that’s because I’m trying to be kinder by forcing myself to scroll on by whenever I see another hate-filled piece of propaganda. I’m doing my best not to react. I see the error of that. Instead of changing people’s minds, it causes them to dig in their heels. They’re not listening.

Perhaps they never were.

No, this has very little to do with homesteading and prepping…except for the freedom that homesteading and prepping represents to me. If we dig down deep enough, none of us wants to be dependent upon government to survive…because it usually leads to government overreach. I realize, and know from personal experience, that there are many, many situations that arise where such reliance cannot be helped. Again, I’ve been there. People in those situations deserve our compassion, not our scorn. But what makes most of us happy is the satisfaction that comes with making one’s own way in the world…relying instead upon the only One who can be relied upon, plus the gifts, skills, intellect, community, and the willingness to share with that community, that He has blessed us with.

But that’s neither here nor there.

I’ve been scrolling on by. Or, when I don’t think I can as the propaganda gets thicker and thicker on some sites, I “snooze” people for 30 days. That way I don’t see the posts on social media that make my blood boil…and chase away all good reason.

The problem with that though is “snoozing” someone doesn’t prevent them from attacking me on my posts. Yes, I do share political memes, though I try to keep them to a minimum. There have been a number of clips superimposing Donald Trump and J.D. Vance over the opening of The Dukes of Hazzard series and now Smokey and the Bandit. There have also been several clips showing key conservative and independent figures dancing to the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive”. They’re well done, a good, tongue-in-cheek laugh that does a body good.

But I’m trying to remember each time I see a post from a friend that starts to stir me up in a bad way that that person has their reasons for voting that way…the same as I do for my votes. Neither of them are inherently “wrong”. There are simply some issues that touch on a core value somewhere. And, even if you disagree with that candidate’s other policies, that one core value is what keeps you in their lane.

Sadly, I sometimes feel my efforts are in vain. I can almost predict sometimes who will respond negatively to a post I’m sharing…even if it’s not a so-called “provocative” post, but simply a piece from an interview, or a talking head, that is raising what I think are some good points.

Yes, I do invite a response by posting such pieces. I only ask, if you can only respond with snarky remarks and sarcasm, that you follow my example and also scroll on by. Freedom of speech is for everyone…not just those with which you agree.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animals, Appreciation, Culture, ecosystems, Global Warming, God/Jesus, History, Homesteading, Memories, Nostalgia, Scripture, Tradition

The Comfort of Fire

Lisa Burbank

“Love each other deeply. Honor others more than yourselves. Never let the fire in your heart go out. Keep it alive.” (Romans 12:11)

I shared the photograph below on social media over the weekend, but it bears sharing here, too. Because nothing brings about a sense of tranquility and peace like a warm fire blazing in either a fireplace, or in my case, the woodstove. It really is a comfort.

Yes, I know a few European countries have banned the use of fireplaces and woodstoves, citing climate change, pollution and air quality as the reason. But how much more is our air quality challenged by the smoke stacks of various manufacturing facilities, jet exhaust, crop dusting, and the mining for various minerals and precious metals that go into our electronics and so-called “green” energies? Even with the recycling of some of those components, it doesn’t completely offset the harm done of this last.

Yes, my minor was environmental science. I’m familiar with the science, have seen the evidence that the climate is changing, and that Mankind is responsible for this change. But it’s not you or I driving back and forth to work each week, or the woodstove you’re lighting to save money on heat each winter, that’s the cause. Both are just a drop in the bucket against corporate violations.

But that’s neither here nor there. I’m here to talk about fire…the good kind that satisfies the soul on a chilly autumn night. Can anything else compare? Surely no electric, oil, or even gas, heat soaks into the bones as readily as the fire on the hearth.

What is it about fire that soothes so much? Is it ancestral memory? Surely our ancestors spent their winters gathered around such, praying, reading, telling stories, making music together, sharing a pot of tea and a wedge of pie.

Granted, before woodstoves were invented, they wouldn’t have been warm. Houses from the 19th century and before were not insulated. And, while the fire on a true hearth (i.e. fireplace) satisfies almost as readily as that in a woodstove, much of the heat actually escapes up the chimney. It’s one of the reasons why woodstoves caught on: the heat stays locked in the cast iron, radiating throughout the house. With a fireplace, unless you’re sitting right in front of it, you cannot feel its warmth.

Perhaps the ancestral memory goes back even farther…to days of living in caves and the crackle of a fire keeping predators away. Is it that sense of safety and security that make it such a joy? While we may not need to keep a fire going to save us from being eaten by a saber-toothed tiger, perhaps there’s a transference of that safety and security onto the knowledge that, in the event of a storm and subsequent power outage, we’re still safe from freezing to death.

It’s likely we will never know the true answer to that, but what a time to mourn if we’re ever denied the comfort of that fire as some of our European neighbors have been. It truly is a gift…as Miss Zelda would agree (below).

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Books, Faith, Finances, God/Jesus, Homesteading, Human rights, Scripture, Writing, Yoga & Fitness

Can’t? Says, Who?

Lisa Burbank

“No weapon formed against you shall prosper, and every tongue which rises against you in judgement you shall condemn.” (Isaiah 54:17)

I would’ve been a suffragette if I had lived in the 1800s. Not because of any man-hating, as far too many modern-day feminists seem to do, but simply because I’ve never been able to accept being told I *can’t* do something.

Yes, I am well aware of the biological differences between men and women. I know my physical limitations, for example. I simply do not have the same upper body strength that a man has. I’m okay with that because I *can’t* think of anything that this has kept me from doing that I’ve wanted to do…except maybe Camel pose in Yoga (chuckle). All kidding aside though, in every other instance, I’ve always managed to devise ways to compensate for that limitation. For instance, I purchased a “dolly”, or hand truck, many years ago to help me carry 50 lb. sacks of animal feed into the barn.

But telling me I *can’t* own my own property and do with it as I choose. Telling me I *can’t* control and manage my own finances. Telling me I *can’t* be a writer, or an artist, or a doctor because I’m female. That wouldn’t have flown with me…even in 1830. I’d either be chaining myself to a lamp post, or shoved into an asylum, because I refused to stay in the box that society put me into.

My stepfather use to tell everyone not to tell me I *can’t* do something because I was going to prove you wrong…or die trying. Well, he was right. And I’m still standing.

Not recently, but I have had a lot of naysayers over the years telling me I *can’t* earn a living as a writer. Well, I haven’t proven that I can yet, but it’s not stopping me from writing…or trying to reach that pinnacle of worldly success.

Yes, I know. For every Stephen King or Nora Roberts, there are hundreds of writers who have been published, but they’re still working other jobs to make ends meet. Many of them were my professors in college. I can find most of them on Fantastic Fiction with a list of the tomes they’ve written…even if nobody seems to have heard of them. Their books sell well enough to keep an editor happy but, for some reason, they’re just not household names. There’s no shame in that. Countless others never get that shot at being published at all.

I hear a lot of naysayers telling me I also *can’t* homestead, especially not alone. I need people to help me. Well, yes, it would be nice to have others on the same page with me and working right alongside me. And, even if they’re not on the same page as me, I appreciate the help I do get from others. I’ve learned to accept that not a lot of people *get* this homesteading thing. They certainly don’t *get* my why, or how, no matter how often I seek to explain it. That’s okay. This homestead was thriving solely under my care until a recession, and then an injury, derailed a lot of that care. It will be again. It’s simply a matter of picking up the pieces and getting back on that proverbial horse again, not throwing in the towel.

I would’ve been a suffragette in the 1800s because telling me I *can’t* only goads me into proving to everyone–including myself–that, yes, I CAN, just as my stepfather used to say.

You CAN, too. Whatever dream, or goal, is on your heart, you can. It may not happen overnight, but it won’t happen at all if you don’t take steps towards making it happen. And that’s as much a pep talk for me as it is for you. I’m my own worst enemy!

Taking those steps forward means learning to manage your finances, and your time, a little better than most. It will also mean missing a few cookouts or movies, etc. That’s part of the commitment and time management. Not missing out on fun and/or quality time entirely, but finding that balance that let’s you indulge your passions (those that are productive and giving, not the raw kind of passions that lead to the destruction of self (drugs, alcohol, sex outside of marriage)). But, if you really want it, you’ll learn to manage your resources and make better choices that will take you closer to your dreams.

It will take a lot of prayer and commitment, too. Yes, prayer. Not only does He make all things new, He has a dream for you. If you’re dreaming of something, take it to Him in prayer. What is His plan for your life? I guarantee that dream on your heart came from Him in the first place, but the execution, if we put it in His hands, will be greater and more fulfilling than anything you could’ve ever imagined.

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Books, Creativity, God/Jesus, Homesteading, Scripture, Writing

Making Every Moment Count

Lisa Burbank

“Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” (James 4:14)

To the best of my knowledge, I’m healthy and hearty, but I have been spending an inordinate amount of time struggling to concede my age…and, maybe something more detrimental to my mental and emotional well-being: fixating on chances missed throughout this lifetime. It’s that “if-I-knew-then-what-I-know-now” syndrome. And, if it’s not really a “syndrome”, it ought to be.

I alluded to this a little bit in yesterday’s post. It was focused completely on finances but, paying yourself first (after tithing, of course) should also be a *thing* when it comes to future goals.

The first thing I do every morning now is write…or at least that’s the goal each day. I don’t always succeed, but I do a lot better with keeping a writing habit in the morning than I do in the evening…especially if I don’t have a thesis holding my backside to the fire.

It was while I was working on that thesis that I started fixating on those missed chances. Why didn’t I do this writing degree thing 30 years ago when I was younger? Why did I allow another’s abuse to broadside me away from my dreams? If I had finished this book a decade or two ago, so many loved ones would still be here to read it. I can only hope they’re smiling down from heaven now, cheering me on. But I wish I could’ve shared it with them while they were here.

Ditto for my homesteading dreams. In this case, and maybe with my writing, too, I keep waiting for the perfect conditions. Or I’ll tell myself all month that with my next paycheck I’ll pick up XYZ for the garden, the kitchen, to streamline some project, etc. And then payday comes and goes and my inner-Martha comes out and my focus turns more to the day-to-day. Nothing wrong with that…except another month comes and goes and I’m no closer to that one little goal I set for myself. Slow and steady wins the race, but I also have to keep moving towards that goal…or it’ll be another dream never realized.

There’s a string of them behind me. I’m sure most people reading this will have them, too.

And, yes, this is where I remind myself of two great ladies I’ve mentioned in the past: “Grandma” Mary Moses, who didn’t sell her first painting until she was 78 years old (and lived to be 102!), and “Grandma” Emma Gatewood, who became the first woman to hike the Appalachian Trail alone at the age of 67 and is the first person to ever hike three times.

I’m not too old. And it’s not too late to have a successful career as a writer. It’s also not too late to develop a thriving homestead.

However, I do have to take those steps. That’s where the paying-myself-first advice comes in. It may only be something small, but at least it’s something. It’s a step in the right direction.

“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” (Henry David Thoreau)

What dreams are on your heart today? And what steps are you taking to meet them? I’d be delighted if you’d share them in the comments.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Books, Creativity, Diversity, Fashion, History, Nostalgia, Reading, Scripture, Tradition

Proud to Be A Woman

Lisa Burbank

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” (1 Peter 3:3-4)

I’m going to get myself in trouble today. We have our monthly book club meeting this afternoon and this month’s selection is our own. I.e. We chose this month to read a biography, autobiography, or memoir of someone we like, or admire, and will share little bits and bobs from what we read and why we chose the person we did.

My choice?

Well, to be honest, I couldn’t decide between Tasha Tudor and Tucker Carlson. I like Tucker. I love his faith, how open he is in his belief in God, and the gentle and respectful way that he interviews those invited on his show. I also like his courage in being willing to interview those that most journalists and writers would shudder away from…such as Vladimir Putin.

But I’ve settled on Tasha for today. I’m rather tired of political debate. And, if anyone notices the Trump/Vance 2024 bumper stickers on my car, there will be enough political discourse at this book club meeting without me adding Tucker (though I may bring both books in with me anyway…who knows?)

However, for the moment, I’ve settled on Tasha because she is someone I have long admired. She chose her 1830s lifestyle at a very young age and she never wavered from her course. Her art and her creativity was infused with her gentle love for children, animals and nature and, of course, days gone by. She spun yarn, wove cloth, perused antique stores and estate sales for 1800s fashions, which she wore rather than just keep as displays (I’m guessing she was a tiny woman; my 5’8″, 190 lb. self could never fit into such clothing). She kept doves and chickens and geese and goats and birds and at one time even had a crow. She also raised Corgis, which she called Corgyn in the plural, declaring it the only proper way to do so. She cooked on both a hearth and cast iron cook stove. She lit her home with candlelight and oil lamps.

After years of working in living history museums, why wouldn’t I choose Tasha? I wish I had been so focused in my youth and lived much the same way.

But the real reason I chose Tasha is a quote from the book The Private World of Tasha Tudor by Tasha Tudor and Richard Brown:

“Why do women want to dress like men when they’re fortunate enough to be women? Why lose our femininity, which is one of our greatest charms? We get much more accomplished by being charming than we would by flaunting around in pants and smoking. I’m very fond of men. I think they’re wonderful creatures. I love them dearly. But I don’t want to look like one. When women gave up their long skirts, they made a grave error.” (Tudor and Brown, 1992, p. 63)

Having worn the long, full skirts and petticoats of the 1830s, I wholeheartedly agree with Tasha’s view here. When I’m wearing long skirts, I feel attractive and feminine. I feel confident and vital. That’s when I can truly say: I am woman. Hear me roar. It’s when I take myself seriously…so you should, too.

And, despite her love of all things 1830s, including the attire, Tasha had a long, successful, and modern career as a commercial artist, and could navigate between the two worlds quite nicely…even though, by her own admission, she wasn’t always “nice”. There was never a sign that she gave up her rights as a female to look and dress as a female. Instead, she simply celebrated being a woman.

It is something to celebrate.

But that’s just what I think. Let me know what you think (or thought?) when you read Tasha’s quote above in the comments below.

May God bless you & keep you!

Works Cited

Tudor, Tasha and Brown, Richard. The Private World of Tasha Tudor. Little, Brown & Company, 1992.