Category: Writing

Animals, Appreciation, Books, Christianity, ecosystems, Exhaustion, Faith, gardening, Gratitude, Herbs, Homesteading, Nature, Plants, Writing

Winding Down

Lisa Burbank

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

As summer winds down, the garden–what little I planted–dies back, herbs and flowers go to seed, and at work, summer reading ends. On this last, we all breathe a sigh of relief. This year, we nearly tripled our participation, which fills me with joy to see so many neighbors and friends enjoying their summer with good books, fun games, prizes, and snacks.

On the homestead, I’m harvesting more cherry tomatoes than I know what to do with…except maybe as a healthier snack instead of reaching for chips or popcorn. Brussel sprouts are still growing, as is some cabbage (despite the cabbage larvae that nearly decimated both earlier in the season…). We have a few small sugar pumpkins, and some unnamed variety of heirloom bean drying in their pods on the vine. Something ate the peas. The green beans didn’t produce nearly as much as the amount of plants suggested. And it’ll be quite some time before I know if the American chestnuts (a hybrid designed to bring this legendary tree back from extinction by grafting it to a Japanese root stock that is resistant to the blight) survived the long winter in refrigeration and then into the ground.

Yes, we still talk about relocating…now more than ever due to the cost of living and the explosion of “urban development” in this once-rural community. But I leave it in His hands.

For now, I’m working towards making this place, this space, as self-sufficient as possible. The fixer-upper needs a ton of work, and now costs me far more each month to hold on to than it’s market value suggests. Perhaps there’s a solution down the road. Perhaps not. And between cats and herbs, we’ll need a Mack truck to do that relocating. Still, what is slowly happening here fills me with joy.

In addition to some veggies, I planted hibiscus, borage, bee balm (although it is not true Monarda didyma with it’s scarlet petals, but another hybrid with magenta petals; the hummingbirds don’t seem to mind…), catnip, calendula, rue, tarragon, and basil. This last, I simply love the smell…and the taste of fresh pesto mixed into some gourmet pasta. This weekend, there are plans to pick up some elderberry bushes from a friend who has an overabundance of them and doesn’t know what to do with them all. What a blessing!

Speaking of birds, though our little flock of chickens and ducks is down to just 7 geriatric birds, the wild birds are visiting in abundance. The birdhouses hosted new life yet again this year. The chickadees, cardinals, juncos, sparrows, titmice, nuthatches, and grackles are now joined by blue jays, mourning doves, orioles, woodpeckers and, yes, hummingbirds. And the mountain mint I planted a few years’ ago is covered with honey bees, bumblebees, and various other bees that I am unfamiliar with. I’m still waiting for the big bottle-blue wasps that tend to feast on mountain mint. I’ve only seen one on occasion this year. When I maintained the herb garden at the living history museum, their mountain mint was covered with these striking-looking wasps.

Again, what blessings! And I’m savoring every one…no matter how small they may seem.

The revisions on the first novel are about 3/4 of the way done. I’ve also started another book. This one, a Young Adult tome. So, despite once again neglecting this blog, it has not been due to laziness, or a lack of respect for any readers still out there. I’m hoping as we head into fall, and the work in the garden, the yard, etc. winds down, that I’ll have more time to devote to it, to develop some healthier, more sustainable habits so I won’t fall off the proverbial blogging wagon again.

Of course, this blog is also going through a little mental re-vamp as I go about my job at work, chores here on the farm, or write/revise books. All-in-all, I’m looking forward to the months ahead. This is my favorite time of year.

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Appreciation, Books, Faith, Finances, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Homesteading, Scripture, Self-esteem, Self-improvement, Writing

Mistakes and Other Misdemeanors

Lisa Burbank

“For there is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not.” (Ecclesiastes 7:20)

Not so much mistakes, although I’ve made plenty of those, but mishaps and failures. And I judge myself for them far more harshly than I ever would another human being.

He’s been giving me little messages over the last few days to lighten up on myself. Yes, there have been a lot of setbacks in recent years. Yes, I have a lot of work ahead of me. And, yes, if I think about it too much, I do feel a little overwhelmed. No, the outcome won’t be perfect. I’m learning I don’t have to do it all in one fell swoop, as they say, but that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes long for a nose like Samantha Stevens that could just make it all happen in an instant.

It’s been a long time since I’ve really talked about homesteading. At this point in time, I’m really thinking much smaller. Some of it is an age thing: 60 is looming ever closer. Some of it is location: another big box store going in down the road from us. And some of it is the need for more land without the means of obtaining it…at least not at the moment.

What can I do here?

I am incredibly grateful to have beaten foreclosure two years’ ago so, I’m taking care right now not to lament any financial or zoning restrictions that might throw a monkey wrench in my future plans…or any physical limitations that may crop up as I “mature”. I haven’t forgotten the stress or the fear, and I don’t want to suddenly appear ungrateful for the miracle that allowed me to keep my home.

The “mistake,” or “misdemeanor,” has been the ongoing push for more, more, more. Instead of truly learning, or enjoying, what is. It’s been the overextension of my personal resources, not just financial, but strength and stamina, and the same 24 hours in a day as everyone else is allotted. It’s been the lack of planning for the future I dream of…and the lack of acceptance that what I dream of may not be in His plans for me at all.

I suspect there will always be a part of me that keeps overfilling my proverbial plate. Call it a self-esteem issue, searching for worth, for fulfillment. Searching for something in the world…rather than through the only One who can truly fill me. I fill and overfill because there is a part of me that will always think I’m not “enough”. So, starting right here with what I have right now is a good way to truly heal those feelings of unworthiness. Taking baby steps, doing what I can with what I have on hand, and considering the results a year from now…or 5…or 10.

My home was saved for a reason. He has a job for me to do here. Whether it’s the library where I now work full-time as director, or something else entirely, I have no way of knowing, but I trust Him to show me the way in His time, rather than my own.

Of course, I keep reminding myself that my first priority has little to do with homesteading. My first priority on this earthly plain is to pay off student debt and focus on my writing. The first novel is completed. It’s now in the revision stages.

Will it sell? Will it attract an actual publisher, editor, agent? Or will I be forced to go the self-publishing route? And “forced” is too harsh a word, really. I’m actually considering serializing my book as writers of old used to (Mark Twain, Harriet Beecher Stowe). Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Scaling back on my homesteading endeavors to fit the current just-under-an-acre footprint isn’t really a sign of failure, or a mistake. Mistakes are meant to teach us something. The only true failure is when we refuse to learn the lessons they teach.

It’s been a hard lesson, indeed, to learn that, yes, I do have limitations. That doesn’t mean I’m giving up, or giving in. It’s more like fine tuning. I’m finally learning to enjoy the journey instead of obsessing over the destination. How ’bout you?

May God bless you & keep you!

Abuse, Appreciation, Christianity, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Grief, Healing, Herbs, Introvert, OCD, Writing

Routines

Lisa Burbank

“Let them praise the name of the Lord, for His name alone is excellent: His glory is above the earth and heaven.” (Psalm 148:13)

Now, let me preface this post with saying I am eternally grateful to finally be earning enough to pay my bills each month, to work at a job that challenges me in so many good ways, and to feel so much a part of this community that I have come to love. I truly am blessed. And turning this foreclosure thing around for a second time is nothing short of a miracle. Amen!

However, there’s another way that my work challenges me, which I am hoping will also be a good thing in time, but is causing me no end of headaches and heartaches: I can’t incorporate any meaningful routine into my days.

OCD tripping me up again…?

Not work’s fault, but the childhood trauma that helped the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder to develop in the first place. Twenty years of therapy didn’t “cure” me of it. It only taught me how to manage it…somewhat. But I still struggle with that fine line between better time management overall and knowing when I’m becoming obsessive about that time.

There’s also a side of me that berates myself for being “lazy” when some niggling part of me says maybe it’s “burnout” and my body simply cannot = can + NOT go at my usual breakneck pace. Some of it may be age and menopause. However, the past decade has been one challenge after another: multiple losses of beloved family members; job loss/unemployment; under-employment; a major injury; foreclosure threats and everything seeming to break/leak, etc. all at once on the home front. I’ll have a whole new house by the time I’m done…just in time to bury me with astronomical mortgage payments. Not lamenting holding onto home either, just the increase in payments from falling behind in the first place.

And through it all, I earned first a Bachelor’s degree, and then a Master’s degree, writing the first draft of my first novel as my thesis (it’s in the middle of revisions right now before going off to beta-readers).

However, I also want to show up again every Tuesday and Thursday with a new post. I want to start writing herbal posts again. I want to get back to the heart of what this blog has been and why it was started in the first place. But I have yet to incorporate a routine that will allow it. Part of the reason is that my schedule changes day-to-day and from week-to-week at work.

Sure, our business hours stay the same each week, but my duties and responsibilities change with the seasons, and I’m in the library several hours a week when we’re not open. Again, not a lamentation. Some of those hours are to host multiple writer’s workshops and book clubs, all of which I started to encourage more patronage. We increased patronage this year by half as much again as last year, so that’s a major boon.

Yeah, I probably am Burnt. Out.

Years ago, when I worked in Corporate America, I used to take a week’s vacation, and the first few days of that vacation, I let myself sleep as much as I wanted. After a couple of days, I was refreshed and back to my old vigor. Perhaps that’s what I need now.

Or perhaps the chronic introvert needs some serious time to simply retreat from the world for a few days. Not necessarily in sleep, but simply “time out”.

And maybe, just maybe, yeah, the perfectionist needs to quit trying to “perfect” everything all at once and focus on one area of life first: my health and well-being, and then take a few baby steps towards another area of life once I’m feeling more like myself.

Only then will it be possible to carve out a routine that works without burning me out again.

In the meantime, as with my foreclosure process, I leave it all in His hands. What will be, will be. And I trust Him with whatever the outcome. And that statement right there? That’s the best testament of healing of all: I trust Him. That same childhood trauma that gave me OCD also threw my trust in the dirt, stomped all over it and left it in the gutter. That I can actively give up control of any kind says a lot about His healing, His timing, His plans. Maybe I don’t need a routine after all. After all, it’s His will, not my own.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Abuse, Alcoholism, Chronic Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Exhaustion, Faith, God/Jesus, Healing, Herbs, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Poverty, Prayer, Scripture, Writing, Yoga & Fitness

Convenience Over Quality

Lisa Burbank

“And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient.” (Romans 1:28)

Despite my longing for a 19th century style of life, unprocessed foods and clean soil with which to grow food, I live in the 21st century. When I’m feeling tired, rundown, or overwhelmed, it’s pretty easy to cave into temptation and reach for a package of Ramen noodles. Or a can of Campbell’s soup. Would that there were healthier options available in that time of need. Would that I still spent Sundays cooking and baking a mountain of food to freeze for such times again.

Convenience is the reward for either my laziness, or my lack of foresight, in planning ahead for such “rainy” days. The price is a body that feels stiff and tired, eyes that burn with fatigue, and a head that’s filled with so much fog, I might need a foghorn to warn any incoming data of potential rocks up ahead.

Of course, there’s a snowball effect here, too. As I reach for convenience, I also find myself sleeping later, but not feeling rested. Regular prayer life, yoga and Ayurveda practices, daily walks, and just some quiet time alone have fallen by the wayside. How did I get into this rut? Was it only from another snowball effect of job losses, injuries and toxic relationships that led me here? Or something more?

The campaign ads are correct that so many of our illnesses come from what’s in our food. I have Irritable Bowel/Inflammatory Bowel Syndrome, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and Chronic Epstein-Barr. Childhood trauma, and the stress that comes with it, certainly contributed to these conditions, but our food system played its part, too. Mom was a single mother for many years, struggling to get by. She married an alcoholic, who was forever losing jobs because he was hung over and “couldn’t” work before an injury permanently disabled him, so the struggle not only continued, but increased on the stress barometer. We lived on a diet of Campbell’s soup, Rice-A-Roni, Noodle Roni, Hamburger Helper, and white flour products.

We couldn’t afford better. And most families cannot afford better today. In fact, the campaign ads are also correct that it’s gotten worse since I was a kid in the late-60s and 70s.

The answer is to hold myself accountable for my choices, take baby steps, such as ordering a salad at a restaurant instead of “loaded” fries, or writing a blog post that doesn’t make a lot of sense…but doing it anyway. Taking these small steps, and slowly increasing, until I’m feeling more like myself again. And giving back by making healthier foods and supplements (i.e. herbs) not only a staple in my own life, but a cornerstone of this homestead.

Of course, prayer is the biggest answer. Giving it all to God, taking it to Jesus in prayer, giving Him my lazy, my lack of foresight, my tired, stiff body, and allowing Him to build a lighthouse to avoid those rocks in the fog is the best blueprint for success. He is the One “convenience” that gives the best quality of life. Ever.

May God bless you & keep you!

Alcoholism, Birthday Wishes, Chess, Family, Grief, Love, Memories, Nostalgia, Reading, Writing

My Poppop

Lisa Burbank

“They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.” (Psalms 92:14)

My Poppop was a wealth of knowledge. He wrote for the Providence Journal Bulletin for 40 years and was even nominated for a Pulitzer’s Prize for his work. As an investigative reporter, he rubbed elbows with some of the best…and some of the worst. His obituary speaks proudly of the organized crime ring that he helped take down through his reporting. He also interviewed Henry Ford for the Ford Motor Company’s 50th Anniversary; I have some of the stationary and memorabilia from that event.

But none of that is why I loved him.

Obviously, I get my love of writing from my paternal grandfather. In part, my love of music (he played multiple instruments), as it runs on both sides of the family. I get my love of learning from Poppop, too. And my chess-playing ability. I’ve squared off with some of the best. I haven’t always won, but I’ve always made them work for the win. (Of course, I haven’t played in a while, but I’m confident it’s like riding a bike…)

Going to my paternal grandparents’ home each weekend was a magical time for me. Yeah, I’m honest enough to admit they spoiled me, but I’m going with age and experience on their part on how to teach children the wonders of the world.

Some of my fondest memories of Poppop are of Saturday nights sitting beside him on the couch while he read stories to me, or listened to me read them aloud to him, while occasionally blowing in my ear to make me giggle from the tickle of it. Sometimes he simply shared little tidbits of knowledge with me: “What letter of the alphabet is the most used in the English language?” I may have been 5 when he posed this question to me. I remember saying “A”. The correct answer is “E”.

When he wasn’t banging away at the keyboard of his manual typewriter, he was sitting out in the yard, smoking his cigar, and watching the birds. He was an avid birdwatcher (I am, too). He kept an assortment of bird feeders well-stocked and a bird bath to which a ceramic cardinal and ceramic blue jay perched alongside their living “cousins”. (One of the first knick knacks that I ever purchased for myself was a cardinal and a blue jay sitting on a branch…)

He tried to teach me to play the piano a time or two, but I wasn’t receptive to that teaching (something I rue to this day…).

However, I never left my grandparents’ home on Sunday evening without my Poppop driving his big old black Buick sedan to the railroad tracks on Kilvert Street in Warwick, Rhode Island. We would sit in the parking lot beside a tenement there (from which I rented an apartment years later!) and wait. Almost the whole family–Poppop, Nanny (my grandmother), Aunt Margie and Mom & I (sadly, my father, his son, never wanted to be a part of my weekend)–went along for the ride. We sat and we waited until those railroad lights started flashing and the arm came down to stop traffic going over the tracks. Once the train went by, we drove down the other end of the road to another parking lot–usually the bank’s–and watched one jet take off and another land, all with a sense of wonder over the marvels of modern technology.

Poppop’s 119th birthday was this past Sunday. Alcoholism took him from us too soon at the age of 68. But, despite this social “disease”, he lived a life well. He will forever be my “Poppop”.

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!

Appreciation, Books, Christianity, Creativity, Faith, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Homesteading, Writing

Catching Up

Lisa Burbank

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
4     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8     a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

So it’s been a little over a year since, by the grace of God, I was able to turn the mortgage right side up again. Of course, I now owe more than the home is worth, but I no longer fear phone calls or a knock on the door. Nobody is likely coming to evict me. And that’s a huge relief–praise the Lord!

Life as a librarian is way more involved and multifaceted than I could have ever imagined…in a very good way. I laughingly tell everyone that I am now using every skill from nearly every job, or pet interest, that I have ever had. The exception is forklift driving, but it’s only been 2 years since I took over as director. We are looking to build a bigger facility in the not-so-distant future so maybe they’ll have need of a forklift driver in the building process. It could happen…just saying.

Actually, being a librarian has its perks. We now host a weekly story time for the kids, a Knitting & Crocheting Club (I am still abysmally slow at knitting…), both an adult Book Club and an adult Writer’s Workshop (my favorite for obvious reasons), as well as a Juvenile Book Club and Young Writer’s Club. It’s been incredibly rewarding.

I graduated on August 1, 2024 with my Master’s degree in Creative Writing. The first draft of the working title: Familiar Witch is complete and, after a quick revision from my professor’s editing notes, I will be sending it off to my beta readers…and likely doing another revision of it once each of them is finished reading the rough draft and giving their opinions on how to strengthen the story. My story actually proved to be a trilogy; “Ivy” and “Moz’s” story is far from over. But I’m thinking of toying with a few other ideas in the meantime. Any revisions to Book 1 might require revisions to Books 2 & 3, which would be a daunting task to say the least.

Lastly, I am once again looking at homesteading. I’m planning to start right here with what I already have. If He provides a way for me to move and expand, I will be eternally grateful for the opportunity. But I won’t pass up the chance to grow and thrive here first. I want to show Him that I can manage what He’s already given before I ask for more. I’ve spent the last 20+ years not wanting to invest the time here, viewing this as too small and restrictive to the larger plans in my head. (I think it was Mother Teresa who said, “You want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans.) As I’ve done over and again for the last couple of years, I’m turning over the “keys” to my heart, and especially my life, to Him. His plan is far greater than anything I could ever imagine.

It’s good to be back. It’s good to be contemplating ways to grow and expand this community…if it even still exists. It’s good to be looking towards the future again. Whatever it holds, I know He’s in control. And knowing that is worth every hardship and hiccough in life that I’ve experienced over the last, well, almost decade.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Well, maybe not…what doesn’t kill you makes your faith stronger because He makes all things new.

May God bless you & keep you!

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

Keeping It Simple

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

But I’m still spent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And does that ever cut!

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

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

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

Time spent in prayer.

Saturday evenings playing cards and Scrabble with Mom.

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

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

Family get togethers.

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

Walks with my dogs…when I had dogs.

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

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

Working in the garden.

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

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

Braiding straw with which to make hats.

A whole Sunday spent cooking and baking for the week.

Watching honeybees at work gathering their nectar.

Time spent in the barnyard.

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

Reading a good book.

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

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

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

Appreciation, Books, Christianity, Faith, Finances, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Homesteading, Prayer, Religion, Scripture, Spirituality, Writing

Vows

Lisa Burbank

“When you make a vow to God, do not delay to fulfill it. He has no pleasure in fools; fulfill your vow.” (Ecclesiastes 5:4)

I’ve made a few vows over the years. You know how it is. You get down on your luck, the path forward turns bumpy and harsh. You start that wheeling and dealing thing with God: “If You will help me with x, I will do y.”

He saved my homestead last summer. My vow was to shout my gratitude from the rooftops if He did. Yes, I’ve expressed my gratitude openly in person with friends and family members. But I’ve been remiss regarding my blog.

Yes, the blog still needs work. There are still some posts that I’d like to take down, posts that do not serve either my own purposes, this community’s, or likely, even God’s anymore. They’re mostly of a political or social nature and will better serve the community over at my “other” blog…in time. Others are repetitious laments cried out during last year’s battle against foreclosure but, in this case, I feel like maybe they do serve a purpose: they’re a reminder of the spiritual, physical and financial rut that I was mired in for far too long. They’re also a reminder of where He’s been leading me since. How can I not express gratitude for such a humbling experience? And how can I not lay credit at the feet of the One who led me through that quagmire…and out the backside of it?

As always, I am very careful not to mention by name my place of employment. Suffice to say, if you’re new to this blog, that in addition to being a writer, blogger, herbalist and homesteader, I am also a library director. And I absolutely LOVE what I do! That’s a blessing I never expected. Nor did I ever expect to be using nearly every skill I’ve ever learned in life to fulfill that responsibility: inventory management, cataloging, historical interpretation, writing, research, budgeting. I’m even teaching American Sign Language to our Juvenile Book Club members. That’s a good feeling. I work with a great bunch of people, too, and that’s even more of a blessing.

In addition to work, I have two more classes before I graduate with my MFA in Creative Writing. These last couple of classes are intense, to say the least. My thesis is the completion of my first novel. And, as such, I am obligated to write 15,000 new words to turn in every 4 weeks. I really didn’t think I had it in me but, once I got myself into a better writing “habit”, as they say, well, I can’t say it was easy, but it’s certainly better. I actually look forward to writing each day. Praise the Lord for that one!

On the home front, I haven’t done much by way of homesteading. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons that a.) I haven’t kept up with my writing here and b.) I’ve been so repetitive in my posts. Not to belittle the very real stress and anxiety associated with the foreclosure process, but I haven’t invested the time needed to make this a working homestead.

And it will be.

There’s still a zoning issue to clear. Or perhaps just throw in the towel on doing so here and, once my credit score is back up again, look into selling and then buying something where the zoning won’t be an issue. Or, another possibility is to scale back on that big dream of mine–not giving it up entirely, but making it more manageable.

Of course, God doesn’t plan small so maybe I shouldn’t either…just look at Job.

And there’s the thing that I am truly shouting for joy over: that little piece inside of my soul that can finally rest and wait for the Lord to act. It’s His will, not my own. What does He want me to do? More importantly, this knowing that I can give it all to Him to carry. I no longer have to.

I praise Him both in the storm…and in the calm.

May God bless you & keep you!