Category: Writing

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

An Upgrade?

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

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

A sneak peek?

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

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

May God bless you & keep you!

Animals, Books, Christianity, Creativity, Faith, Fiber Arts, gardening, Gratitude, Greenhouse, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, Memories, Plants, Poverty, Prayer, Spices, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Wool, Writing, YouTube

Where He Leads

Lisa Burbank

“Your road led by a pathway through the sea–a pathway no one knew was there!” (Psalms 77:19)

I received a phone call from a realtor a couple of weeks’ ago. It’s not the first offer that I’ve received for my property but, up until this point, they’ve been offers simply to list it and, knowing it’s fixer-upper state, I’ve pretty much ignored the letters and calls.

Until now.

Granted, selling would solve a lot of my financial burdens. Previous realtors talked about “staging” and, in short, wanting to “showcase” it for potential buyers. In its current state, I doubt it would pass an inspection for anyone other than a house flipper. If I had the financial means to make some of the repairs, or the plumbing, carpentry, or construction skills to do it myself, it wouldn’t be where it is in the first place and I probably would’ve sold years’ ago.

This guy was different. After total transparency on my part: it needs a new roof, new gutters, a new hot water tank (we haven’t had running hot water since last November), a new water softener (buying in water every couple of days for humans, goats, chickens and ducks to drink is breaking the proverbial bank), some electrical work, the foundation repaired, and the back door doesn’t close properly due to too much settling, this realtor tells me his interest is in its commercial value. He would like to see the property, of course, but his plan is to remove the house and rebuild for commercial use.

This looks hopeful. There’s even a chance of recouping some of the equity in the home to start over again.

It is also bittersweet. On the one hand, I’m feeling a sense of hope that maybe I have a future after all…beyond pitching a tent in the woods somewhere. There’s an impending sense of relief to be free of the roller coaster emotional ride that foreclosure mediation inevitably brings. On the other hand, I’ve lived here for over 20 years. There are a lot of memories, both happy and sad, and the dreams I had for this place that have never been realized due to the financial burdens that started with the Great Recession and appear to be ending with the current recession. I have many beloved pets buried here, too. I hate the thought of them being paved over or dug up.

However, I’m also seeing how limited I would be to make those dreams a reality even if I stayed. There’s still the zoning issue to resolve…and no guarantee it will go in my favor. The property isn’t big enough to accomplish what I have in mind. There’s no parking for that second-hand book store. No room to grow things like flax or rye straw, or cash crops like elderberries. No pasture for the number of fiber-producing animals that I’d need to raise to truly become “The Herbal Hare Tomestead and Animal Sanctuary: Home of Misfit Animals and Books, and Makers of Herbal, Apian, and Natural Fiber Products”.

“Leaf It To the Goats” isn’t even on the radar here.

I could go much smaller, of course. I could be content with turning much of this almost-acre into an extensive herb garden, maybe add a small greenhouse for warmth-loving spices, like cardamom and turmeric. I could still grow microgreens, maybe get into growing mushrooms. There’s a planned YouTube channel, regardless of where we land, and I could still produce it here as its main focus will be herbs. I could be content with rabbits, maybe a couple of Angora goats (if I won the zoning case), for spinning. And honeybees don’t take much room. However, the latter haven’t done well here. I think it’s in part because I’m so close to a major interstate; they don’t have much of a “fly zone”. But I’ve also heard from more seasoned beekeepers that it can take years to get an apiary up and running…and there’s always Colony Collapse to contend with today. It’s not a bad plan and would leave more room for writing (always a plus).

In short, I’m leaving it all in His hands. I will be calling the realtor later today to schedule a visit. I’m also waiting to hear if I’ve gotten the director’s position I applied for at the library where I work. I had the interview on Friday. I’m hoping I hear something before my foreclosure hearing on Monday. This could be the definitive moment. As the salary of a director is considerably higher than a part-time librarian’s it might be enough to modify.

Again, it’s in His hands. I know what I’d like to do. And I have contingency plans. But, in the end, it’s His plan that truly matters. Talk about one’s faith being challenged.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS Please keep the prayers & positive thoughts/energy coming. And I would be eternally grateful if you would share the Go Fund Me link below. Praise the Lord!

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

19th century, Abuse, Addiction, Alcoholism, Animal Rights, Animals, Appreciation, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Faith, gardening, God/Jesus, Gratitude, Healing, Herbs, Homesteading, Love, Plants, Reading, Religion, Self-esteem, Writing

X to have Z…

Lisa Burbank

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so no one may boast.” (Ephesians, 2:8-9)

I want to be a writer, but I have to have some other career to support it, I have to do something else besides write…well, not all of us can be the next Toni Morrison or Stephen King so maybe there’s some truth to this one…but there must be something defectively wrong with me to not have found another career option that I feel just as passionate about…

Like some of my favorite authors who write 8 hours a day, I have to carve out 8 hours of my own to dedicate to my novel, my blog, etc; I can’t be a writer if I don’t write every day for 8 hours a day…even with a “day” job and a small hobby farm and the need to eat, sleep and, well, you know…

Like a favorite singer/songwriter, I do my best writing at 3:30 a.m. so, if I don’t get up at 3:30 a.m. every day to write, I’m not doing my best writing?

I can’t run a used bookstore; I won’t make enough money from it to support myself; I need another career to supplement it (it’s like the writer thing…)

I want to rescue animals, to offer them sanctuary–and often do–but, I’m a single female and I’m in danger of becoming a hoarder–or so the media tells me. If I was married, or a man, and still took in the occasional stray cat, and the free-to-good-home rabbits and goats, etc., found forever homes for some and offered a forever home to others, because their original humans were being evicted and no longer had a home to offer them, would I NOT be in danger of becoming a hoarder?

I want to homestead, to grow my own food and produce my own clothing, to live as sustainably as possible and lower my carbon footprint, but I don’t have enough land, enough money, enough knowledge, and I have to start right here…well, I have, sort of, but I’m also facing foreclosure myself so there’s a bit of apathy getting in the way. Why keep investing here when here may soon be gone?

In my youth, I wanted to be a rock star but, I didn’t keep my guitar strapped to me day in and day out. I only spent an hour or two each day practicing after work, so I guess I must not have wanted it so badly…

When I worked in living history, I told myself I didn’t know enough about either herbs or gardening to manage an heirloom herb garden. I felt like a fraud and everyone would find out eventually that I didn’t have what it takes. It’s called Imposter Syndrome; I just learned about it in my first class as I work towards my MFA in Creative Writing…

I made a mistake 10 years’ ago and rushed headlong into an abusive relationship with someone. I knew better, saw trouble coming a mile away, heard the voice of Reason in my ear saying, “Walk the other way” and ignored it; gave him a chance. I no longer deserve God’s grace…or His love…or the love of another man should I ever meet him…

These are the lies I tell myself, among others. Having just turned 55, “I’m too old” is another…even with the evidence before me that age has nothing to do with success or love or, well, anything…except maybe wisdom and experience, and the appreciation that usually comes with them.

“I’m not worthy” is the overall underlying message in each of these. I have to *earn* it. And, yes, if I want to write, I have to write. If I want to grow food, I have to plant a garden. If I want to be taken seriously at any endeavor and meet with success, I have to do the work. So, these things I tell myself each day have an undercurrent of truth and practicality ringing through.

The Serpent is cunning, to say the least…

There are conditions to everything, especially when you grow up in a house with addictions and abuse. A loving Father is an alien concept. And, no matter how much love, support, etc. you receive from others, that nuclear family unit that consists of parents, siblings and yourself, has the power to shape your way of thinking for life. So, it’s no wonder I’ve tied myself in knots and can’t seem to get out of my own way. Writing books, selling used books, caring for unwanted animals (or those on the receiving end of someone’s hard luck), homesteading and prepping, even learning an instrument by themselves may not be *enough* income to survive, let alone thrive, but together? Or, even if I still work a “day” job, I’m not allowed the joy that each may bring to me?

They’re idols.

That’s another lie echoing through my mind. The Lord has brought me to this place because I’ve made “idols” of animals and books, and I’m trying to live self-sufficiently, which means I’m not relying on Him…or so I’ve heard said. To punish me for this “idolatry”, He’s going to whisk it all away. Hence, the impending doom of foreclosure and zoning challenges…

Who would follow such a God?

Or am I wrong? Will I be stripped down to nothing? Am I being taught another lesson in not judging others for decisions they’ve made during hard luck circumstances? Again, I don’t deserve His grace because I haven’t always given grace to others…

Praise God we don’t get what we *deserve* for our mistakes. Ultimately, I know there’s nothing we can do to *earn* his grace; it is already freely given but, my faith needs a good bolstering today.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animal Rights, Animals, Brothers & Sisters, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Environment, Faith, gardening, Gratitude, Greenhouse, Healing, Herbs, History, Homesteading, Plants, Spices, Straw Braiding, vermicomposting, Weaving, Wool, Worm castings, Worm Tea, Writing, Zero Waste

The New “About”: The Herbal Hare Tomestead and Animal Sanctuary

Lisa Burbank

“A home for misfit animals and books, and makers of herbal, apian, and natural fiber products.”

Sanctuary – Focuses primarily on small livestock and pets that are being relinquished due to zoning regulation issues, foreclosure, or eviction.

Tomestead – A different sort of “rescue” or sanctuary, one that keeps used books out of the landfills.  The bulk of the books will be from donations.  Patrons will have the option of in-store credit (20% off purchase) or a check for 20% of estimated resale price.  Campus will consist of re-purposed sheds, RVs, trailers and/or mobile concession booths.  Each upcycled building will host a different genre, or subject(s) and be themed accordingly.  Additional outbuildings will host various natural fiber, herbal and apian products produced on-site and throughout the local community.  topography will include a 9000 square foot heirloom herb garden where walks and talks will be hosted; a petting zoo featuring some of the rescued animals at the sanctuary, and a cafe featuring menu items that would have been popular in the 19th century.  Proceeds from sales will be re-invested into the business, as well as providing for the care of the animals.

The Herbal Hare – Farm side of the campus will host various fiber-producing animals, in addition to rescues, such as sheep, goats, alpacas, and rabbits.  Spinning, weaving and dyeing demonstrations, herbal workshops, and “bee” school are future offerings.  Fibers will eventually expand to include basket weaving, chair caning, and straw hat making, and sericulture (silkworms).  Herb store will eventually be expanded to include a couple of greenhouses for growing heat-loving spices, such as cardamom and turmeric; mushrooms; microgreens, and sprouts.  

     Planned fiber products – primarily yarns and some woven products to start.  Straw hats, baskets, silks and linen in future.

     Planned apian products – honey, beeswax, candles

     Herbal products – seeds; dried and fresh herbs; young plants; skin care products; scent mixes and tea blends

All facilities will be zero-waste.  Reusable bags, boxes, upcycled Mason jars will be available for patrons.  We will also seek out compostable wraps, containers and utensils for our envisioned cafe. Compost will be re-purposed in the herb garden and future greenhouses.

Where is this wonderful place?  For now, it’s on the drawing board awaiting either an angel investor (or two) to help with start-ups, or a great, big pot of luck!  

What expertise do I bring to this endeavor?  Besides being a writer, I am a certified herbalist who worked in living history, both as a volunteer and as paid staff, for many years where I learned spinning, weaving and caring for natural fibers, and straw braiding for the making of hats.  I am also a Master Gardener with the University of Connecticut, and a librarian.  I have been rescuing and giving sanctuary to unwanted animals for much of my adult life–over 35 years!

This is my dream. With God’s grace, it will one day be a reality.

May God bless you & keep you!

PS The link to my Go Fund Me campaign to make this a reality:

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

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!

Animals, Books, Christianity, Compassion, Creativity, Fiber Arts, gardening, Herbs, Homesteading, Poverty, Spinning, Understanding, Weaving, Writing, YouTube, Zero Waste

Getting to the Starting Line

Lisa Burbank

“The rich man’s wealth is his only strength. The poor man’s poverty is his only curse.” (Proverbs 10:15)

I hate platitudes, those pat little bits of advice from people who have never walked an inch in another’s shoes, nevermind a mile.

Or maybe it’s not a platitude, but one of those itchy little thorns that get under your skin because you know there’s a grain of truth to it.

I once lamented to a significant other that he didn’t take me seriously. I can’t even remember what we were arguing about at the time but, very calmly, he said I didn’t take myself seriously. My initial reaction was what the f*** is that suppose to mean? Another friend told me that I missed my opportunities. Again, same initial reaction.

Yeah, it’s the itchy little thorn scenario.

I still don’t know if I buy the first one. That sounds like a lack of confidence (or a crafty little cop-out on his part…). Yeah, maybe I do lack confidence to some extent but, in areas where it matters, no, I’m okay there.

I know my writing is good. Sure, my blog posts may have a lot of run-ons and half sentences, but it gets the point across and people read it. The books I have “in-the-works” get more of the polish and, those who have read bits and bobs of them, tend to give positive feedback and encouragement. As a homesteader, well, we may soon be without a homestead. That’s enough to destroy anyone’s confidence for a spell, but not because I lack confidence that I can grow a significant amount of food, grow herbs, spin yarn, weave cloth, or keep bees and livestock. What skills I lack, I can always learn. It’s more of an insecurity thing, a fear of putting the work in to develop the present property only to lose it.

And, yeah, maybe wondering if any business ideas that I have will come to enough of a fruition that I can continue…here, or on another property.

This last falls under the heading of “Fear of Failure”, not “Lack of Confidence”. A business using goats to clear land; a secondhand bookstore and herbery; a zero waste store; a monthly newsletter/magazine that features herbs, natural fibers, and all things homesteading, or a YouTube channel featuring all of, or part of, the above are all viable ideas that have the ability to stand on their own. I don’t lack confidence in the viability of any idea. I believe in them enough to have created business plans and/or grant proposals for all of them. But, maybe, just maybe, I’m willing to concede that I lack the confidence that I’ll ever find the necessary funds, the land, and the physical support to see them fly (there should be a support group for impoverished wannabe entrepreneurs…). And that is where I fear the failure.

As for the other itchy little thorn? It’s difficult to take advantage of a presented opportunity if you have no way to support yourself, your family, etc. while you take that advantage.

So, yeah, these offhanded remarks have itched and poked and stung over the years with all of the tenacity of a killer hornet. They were also hurtful and callous remarks by the people who uttered them. And, as I sit here typing this, I can’t help wondering how many other would-be entrepreneurs are sitting out there feeling the same angst that I do. How many jobs are “lost” before they are ever realized? And don’t get me started on big box stores and monopolizing tech companies pushing out the small business owners who are able to make their dreams a reality.

May God bless you & keep you!

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

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

When In Doubt

Lisa Burbank

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amen!

REFERENCES

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

Animals, Appreciation, Christianity, Compassion, Family, Healing, illness, Introvert, Love, Scripture, Self-esteem, Writing

The Need for Solitude

Lisa Burbank

“Don’t be selfish; don’t live to make a good impression on others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourself. Don’t just think about your own affairs, but be interested in others, too, and in what they are doing.” (Philippians 2:3-4)

Yup, that title does seem to contradict the passage from Scripture that I shared today. But it’s relevant.

I’m my worst enemy. I beat up on myself constantly, feeling selfish for taking a couple of hours each morning to write…because that’s what I do. That’s what makes me, well, me. I’ve also been feeling guilty for going to bed a little earlier, rather than sitting up with Mom (night owl), that I might get up early without sacrificing sleep. I feel like the bad daughter for getting together with friends by myself…even when Mom reassures me that I should be getting out with my friends once in awhile (Mom doesn’t drive, by the way).

But you know what I’m starting to realize?

I have less time and consideration for others when I don’t take those all-important times for myself. I catch myself zoning out at work when others are talking. I have to curb the rise of impatience when Mom, who has been home all day alone, anxiously relays the latest coronavirus news she read online. My time with the animals becomes the bare minimum of feeding and watering, maybe a quick scratch behind the ears, before I “escape” behind a book or a YouTube video. I snap. I huff out a breath of impatience. In short, I’m as prickly as a hedgehog on steroids, leaving everyone else hurt and bewildered by my inattention.

I’ve blogged about being an introvert before. I am often a chatterbox with those I’m closest to but, even with loved ones, an endless barrage of people-time makes me physically ill. I’m not a snob, or anti-social; it’s just part of being an introvert. Crowds make me feel lonely. Constant socializing feels overwhelming. I’m learning more and more how important it is to find a healthy balance so that quality time with loved ones truly is.

Now, if I could only silence that obnoxious tape playing in my head that tells me how horrible I am for needing that solitude. The way I see it after proofreading this, the real selfishness would be to give the hedgehog a few more steroids.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Which Way Do We Go, Which Way Do We Go?

Lisa Burbank

Rest in the Lord; wait patiently for Him to act. Don’t be envious of evil men who prosper. (Psalms 37:7)

Scatter Syndrome (skah’ ter sin drohm) 1. The inability to focus on that one thing owing to the over-eagerness of having so many options. 2. When the mind leaps from one option or opportunity to the next like a squirrel leaping from branch to branch in a tree. 3. The anxiety and subsequent exhaustion that results from considering too many of those options at once to the point of being overwhelmed and then getting absolutely NOTHING done so you crawl off feeling like a failure again. 4. All of the above.

No, I don’t believe that’s really a term. And I can’t claim I just made it up either because I got it from a friend. However, I’d like to think I’m at least one of the first to formally give it a potential dictionary meaning.

Now that I’ve graduated college with a Bachelor’s of Art in Creative Writing with an Emphasis on Fictional Writing, the world, supposedly, is at my feet. At least that’s what all the recruiters tell you as you sign the agreement at said university. In addition to a multitude of creative writing workshops, grammar and composition, literature, poetry and linguistics, I studied grant writing, business writing, entrepreneurship, art, advertising, and, of course, environmental science. This last encompassed the bulk of my electives.

So, where do I go now?

Of course, my main objective is to finish my book. But, in the meantime, I’m thinking I need to focus on some other aspects of writing, such as short stories, articles, etc. that I can finish quickly and send off to a potential editor for publication. I’m trying to focus on my writing as a business as much as an art. Though I’m leaning more towards self-publishing where my book is concerned, I would like to get my name out there. And, who knows? Maybe, in time, I’ll land a publishing deal after all.

Get an agent.

That was a steady stream of advise from nearly every college professor. But, as someone who is staring down the road to foreclosure right now (I’m behind more than the amount for which the Go Fund Me campaign was created), paying said agent would be next to impossible.

Then there is the zoning issue that I’ve recently come up against so that even if I could get right-side up on the mortgage, I would have to forfeit the heart of this homestead (the animals who share it with me) in order to stay. The attorney I consulted with over a decade ago–before I brought home my first dozen chicks and ducklings–either gave me some bad advise, or this new neighbor is throwing his weight around at the town hall. The attorney costs money, too. As does relocation. So, some of that scatter syndrome probably stems from the pressure to produce and succeed in a hurry. And it doesn’t help that his wife hides in the bushes bordering our two properties, craning her neck for…something? Gladys Kravitz has reincarnated. Maybe it’s time to twitch my nose and find my inner Samantha Stevens.

Financial challenges aside, yes, I do want to focus on my book, on my writing, first and foremost. But there’s also the homesteading and prepping that started years ago and all the myriad directions that I’d love to take it. There’s the original premise for The Herbal Hare: a business producing herbal, apian, and hand-spun/woven fiber products. There’s a second-hand spinning wheel downstairs that needs some TLC to get it moving again. It’s not the Walking/Great Wheel that I learned on and dream of owning, but it has potential…even if I do not have the fiber-producing animals yet. A loom and loom tool (smaller spinning wheel used for filling bobbins for the shuttle) are beyond me right now, but definitely hovering on the radar. There’s a shed full of bee equipment gathering dust. And dozens of seed packets and catalogs to plant that extensive herb garden for making those herbal products, selling plants and seeds, and teaching workshops on herbs. I’m even considering a YouTube channel for the same. I’d like to add some microgreens and sprouts to the list in time. There are visions of a market garden down the road. And a small garden patch planted with rye for drying and braiding the straw for making hats–a skill I never would have guessed at, a gift from my time in living history. As is the interest in lace making, which I have also tried and proven to have some proficiency in producing.

There’s an easel gathering dust. And a stack of books checked out from the library, where I currently work part-time, focused on drawing and art. There’s a guitar, amp, and Appalachian dulcimer equally dusty. Can I do something with either of those? I have a good voice. I spent over a decade fronting metal bands and I’ve served as both a member of our church choir and Lector for many years. (And, damn, if I don’t regret not taking a public speaking class during my tenure at SNHU…if it was even offered via online learning). I’m thinking voiceovers…albeit, that would require equipment I can’t afford at present, another agent, and it would take away much of the energy that I should be focusing on writing.

See? Scatter Syndrome. Twenty different directions to take and continuing to circle back to my true passion: writing, and the very real need to secure home and hearth before too much more time elapses. If this keeps up, I may find myself 90 years old and still circling.

Sigh.

Despite all of this circling, I rearranged the upstairs of my house. I used to have my office in the center bedroom where I painted a mural on the wall depicting a homestead with those fiber-producing animals, an extensive herb garden, lots of bee hives, and me standing triumphant in front of a PC whose screen shouts “BEST SELLER”. As the holistic woo-woo guru, I thought it might aid in manifesting my dreams but, I feel like it has kept me stagnant. The original intent when I painted it was to paint a house that resembled my paternal grandparents’ house, as it will forever be my happy place. I remember my irritation that I couldn’t quite get the roof line correct and, not wanting to wreck something that would forever be displayed on the wall of my house, I left it slightly “off” and continued on. Over the last couple of years since I painted it, I’ve realized that despite the white with black trim color scheme, and the dormer windows, that skewered roof line is this roof line…as is the positioning of the barn with my current barn. If it wasn’t for the new neighbor, I could have this dream here. There’s room enough. But alas…

Another sigh.

So, I’ve moved the office. And there’s a white board awaiting it’s first assignment in getting that much closer to my dreams…once I kick ol’ Scatter Syndrome to the curb and discipline that focus in its place.

May God bless you & keep you!

19th century, Animals, Christianity, Climate Change, Compassion, Cooking, Creativity, Culture, ecosystems, Emergency Preparedness, Environment, Exhaustion, Faith, Fashion, Fiber Arts, Fleece, Frugality, gardening, Global Warming, God/Jesus, Greenhouse, Herbs, History, Holistic Health, Homesteading, Human rights, Minimalism, Nature, Nostalgia, Organic, Prayer, Scripture, Spices, Spinning, Straw Braiding, Weaving, Wool, Writing, Zero Waste

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!