The baby’s chillin’ in the sink, entertaining herself with various kitchen utensils, the older three children are out climbing a tree they named Sheena (after my old horse they barely remember), Royal and Blue are playing blocks in the living room and I’m cooking dinner. Tacos. When in doubt (and short on time), tacos.

Lately when I’ve been in the kitchen I’ve gotten a serious case of bloghead, so I thought I’d better get some of it out. Who wants to hear about my life in the kitchen?

Ground Beef

I’ve been buying about 10 five-pound rolls of ground beef at a time. Someday I’ll make the break and buy grass-fed cattle off of a friend and have it butchered and packaged… for now - Walmart. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. Anyway, we have a system, the kids and I. We cut the rolls into thirds, throw away the plastic and wrap each lump with freezer paper, label it, throw it in the deep freeze. When we cook, one package usually makes two meals because I mix it with beans.

Beans

The kids and I could eat mostly beans, but you-know-who would freak out if there wasn’t some sort of critter flesh in his supper (biblically clean, of course). Thankfully, he has nothing against beans (and, I daresay, he’s pleased with my frugalness). I buy organic dry beans from our local garden/health food store. I soak two pounds of beans at a time and when they’re soft I drain and rinse them, spread them on a cookie sheet (covered with a flour-sac type towel, whatever you call them) and freeze them. When frozen, I break them up and put them in a freezer bag. Thus, they are ready to add to any dish.

Tacos

We have tacos or taco salad at least once a week around here. I cook up my beef (w/ chopped onions if I have time), drain it and add beans and spices (chili powder, paprika, garlic salt, cumin, onion powder if I didn’t add onions, dash of oregano, cayenne). Sometimes I add canned or frozen sweet corn (less and less now as I haven’t found a source for non-GMO). I add a little water for cooking. If I’m out of salsa I add a can of diced tomatoes while cooking and omit the water (salsa served separately). I simmer for 10 minutes or so while preparing the fixin's.

The children like to shred cheese. Cheddar, monty-jack, pepper jack, or farmer cheese. We usually buy farmer cheese instead of cheddar because it doesn't have dye in it (why would we want bright orange cheese? Really?). Walmart doesn't carry farmer cheese, so we buy it up and freeze the extra when we shop at our only other grocery store (Country Mart - Blue calls it "Crunchy Mart").

We all like sour cream or plain yogurt and mild salsa. We either have lettuce (from our garden in season) or whatever I happen to be sprouting at the moment, usually alfalfa (but I'm experimenting - beans, millet, broccoli).

We keep tortilla chips on hand at all times. Organic, non-GMO when we can get them. Sometimes we fry up corn tortillas, but not everyone likes those and they take more time. Our favorite is fresh whole wheat flour tortillas, but they really take time and forethought. Sometimes, sometimes I'll buy the whole wheat kind at the store.

Another thing we like that adds sweet, zesty zip is BBQ sauce (homemade - I haven't found any locally that doesn't have high fructose corn syrup or loads of refined sugar in it - and none of it's as good as mine anyway!). Sounds strange, maybe, but it's sooo yummy.

Sprouts

I haven't been doing this long, but I'll be doing it the rest of my life. There is no reason not to try sprouting! Any idiot can do this and it is a great way to provide fresh greens in season and out. I use alfalfa sprouts any way that I would use lettuce. I use a quart jar with the canning ring. I cut out a bit of window screen from some scrap I had and hold this in place with the ring. Put your seeds in the jar (quantities vary by seed type - I use about a 1/4 cup of alfalfa), cover with water and let soak a few hours or overnight. I do this right on the windowsill by my kitchen sink. I drain and rinse in the morning and several times throughout the day (the screen keeps the seeds from falling out, did I say that?). After I drain, I keep the jar on it's side to keep the seeds spread out a little more. In a couple days the sprouts are about an inch long and have a little pair of leaves. I give them a final rinse, swap my screen lid for a regular lid and stick it in the fridge where it keeps for about a week. Someone who has more experience could fine tune this...

I wake in the morning early and always the very first thing
I sit up in bed and stick out my head and I sing and I sing and I sing!

-a child’s poem

I always wake up early on Sabbath. I’m excited to get the barn chores done and spend some time writing (I get bloghead something fierce Sabbath mornings) or sewing, which I don’t usually get to do during the week because there are so many other things that have to be done. But today is Sabbath. The week’s work is done. I am at rest.

I heard my wood thrush signing this morning just before the sun rose. It was 4:45am. I know it happens every year, but I remain amazed by the change of seasons and the shortening and lengthening of days. I was amazed last night when I plopped down on the couch (“it is finished!”) and looked at the clock. It was almost nine. It was just getting dark out. What’s that, like 16 hours of daylight? Tomorrow’s the longest day of the year. I would love to visit someplace like Alaska to experience the different rising and setting of the sun. Well, and a lot of other reasons, but I think that would be neat. Excluding the first ten years of my life when I lived in VT (and one month in Australia, and a week in CA), Missouri’s climate is all I’ve known. I’ve been reading Gardening When It Counts by Steve Solomon and he talks a lot about Cascadia, the area west of the Cascades in CA, WA and OR. I’m fascinated by this stuff, especially when I consider how things grow in other places. Why oats grow better farther north, watermelons further south. The climate, the soil types… Okay. I’m a nerd.

* * * * *

I’m trying to remember to categorize my entries now. When I do remember, it’s sometimes difficult to do. My life is my life, it’s all intertwined, it’s hard to separate the garden from the kitchen from the children from the spiritual. What about when I’m scattershooting? I guess I should have separate category for that.

* * * * *

This laptop thing is working out really well. Since I’m not giving it a primary place in my life anymore, I realized I haven’t installed a bunch of stuff on it. It’s a really clean system. I download my photos from the camera using the Windows program. I’m using the new Works word processor that came on it (that was something I particularly wanted). I uninstalled a bunch of games. I’ve copied some music to it. The only thing I actually installed is the accelerator for my EarthLink account. I use the generic dialer with my EarthLink number, name and password, and I use the Internet Explorer for browsing. I like it simple. It boots up in a flash and does everything without hesitating.

* * * * *

My goat kids are getting big. They’re two months old and I think tomorrow I’ll start weaning them from their mama. I might let them out with her in the morning and then pen them up after lunch. Then I’ll add the evening milking. We’re ready to have more milk! Farra’s excited about having her goat bred for the first time this fall. Her goat’s a little wacky, but so was Dessy at that age and she has mellowed out into a perfect sweetie. They definitely like routine and I find they do what you want more willingly when you want the same thing regularly. Farra and Atira are in charge of staking the goats out and making sure they have water throughout the day. They also do evening chores all on their own. They are very diligent, responsible young ladies (when I remind them) and I’m very, very pleased with them.

* * * * *

In other farm happenings… We’re down to nine guineas now, maybe eight? I think Bobby said we lost another one to traffic. They love to roam. Are chickens just that much smarter… or that much dumber? They rarely even go near the road. The joke should have been about guineas.

My main flock is down to ten hens, no roosters, of different varieties. This is their third spring and I’m getting only five eggs a day, but they’re big and lovely eggs. And I can’t tell who’s laying and who’s not so I just keep feeding all ten. Earlier this spring I brought home a dozen pullets and the eight that made it have grown into nice young things. I told myself and told myself to wait, that the feed store would have chicks much cheaper at the end of spring, but I couldn’t do it and bought those about mid-spring. Sure enough, soon after that they were selling straight runs of all varieties for 50 cents a piece. Doh! So I just bought a dozen of those, too. Figure we’ll butcher all but one or two roosters and keep any hens. I’ve been trying to discover breeds that have gentle roosters and have heard Buff Orpingtons fit the bill. So eight are Buffs and it looks like two of those are roosters. We also go two red somethings (Rhode Islands or New Hampshires) and two more Rocks. I love variety, don’t you? We should have plenty of blue and brown eggs this fall. My laying hens now all lay white eggs.

* * * * *

Our Dane/Shepherd pup is getting big. As though we expected anything else! Three months old, her back is even with my knee. She probably weighs 35-40 pounds. She looks more like the dane side, we think. Her ears kind of want to stand up, but can’t and so they mostly stick out and the tips flop down and it’s utterly ridiculous looking. I’ll post a picture when I can (my camera’s plum out of juice and I keep forgetting to buy batteries). I was apprehensive about having a puppy, but it’s going very, very well. She loves her crate and a simple, “Torah, go to bed,” sends her right in. She sleeps in it at night and is content in there when we eat or when we leave the house. She and Murphy get along wonderfully and they play and play but she prefers to be near us. We keep her with us as much as possible and just like children she’s more responsive because of it. She has the greatest temperament. Definitely more like a Dane than a Shepherd (nothing against German Shepherds, I like them. But they aren’t as laid back, they’re much more demanding). She’s just what I love in a dog. Like any puppy she chases the poultry and goats a little, but it’s because she wants to play, not because she wants to eat them. Watch dogs awhile and you can tell the difference. We expected this and keep an eye on her, letting her know it’s unacceptable behavior. This is one of the reasons we wanted to start with a puppy instead of an older dog who already has a taste for feathers.

Another thing. Aside from a few puddles and one pile on the rug during the first two weeks, she has not gone potty in the house. I’ve found that puppies born and raised outdoors are much easier to house train than those born and raised indoors. I guess they just go where they’re used to going and if they’re used to going in the grass then your job is that much easier.


* * * * *

My mower is back from the shop and I finally mowed my grass for the first time this year. What I’m able to with all the brush piles and fallen trees, anyhow. I do enjoy mowing and the look of a fresh-cut lawn, but I wouldn’t waste much space on lawn if I had the option. I think if I had the money I’d fence our whole property, put a gate across the driveway and let the goats go wherever they wanted (the garden is fenced in, and the orchard would have to be) and I’d mow only a small area of it. It’s been fun with the kid goats roaming around free. The buck harasses the puppy all the time and they’re very curious about the house, coming up onto the deck to check on us. Goats are sure a pleasure.


* * * * *

I don’t know if I ever wrote about my potato adventures, so here goes…

I have never grown potatoes, never even seen a potato plant (at least, if I did I didn’t know it). Mom says she gave them a try when I was a kid but they didn’t do well or weren’t worth the trouble or something. Potato growing is a mystery to me. Personally, I find that very funny, being as it’s a staple crop all over the world. But it’s true. I searched through all my gardening books and they were all very vague. I figured this was because I’m the only idiot in the world who has never grown a potato or even seen a plant. I was determined to overcome this lack of knowledge and plant the goofy things in my backyard. Well, first I thought, “Okay, garden fresh tomatoes are better than store tomatoes, sure, but aren’t potatoes going to taste like dirt no matter what?” But I ran that by an older sister in Yah, Elwanda, who assured me that there was indeed a difference and touted the combination of new potatoes and green beans fresh from the garden. I figured it was worth a shot. Somewhere in here I started buying red potatoes instead of the traditional brown spuds and noticed a big difference in taste and texture. Now, about planting them…

Well, there are some things I would do differently than I did. But I think I did pretty good for someone as clueless about The Ways of the Spud as myself. I’ve learned a little more since planting (Gardening When It Counts had a great bit on potatoes). I should have dug my trenches a little deeper and given them a little more space. As it was, I could only hoe the dirt up around them once. So my yield won’t be great this year, but now I know. We also are battling flea beetles pretty good and they hit the potato plants right off. I don’t believe in spraying chemicals, so I sprayed garlic and that helped. My plants are healthy enough that they weren’t affected much by the beetles. And as I’ve noticed elsewhere in the garden, nature corrects itself. I had a lot of beneficials move into the neighborhood and the beetle population dropped dramatically.

I read that when they bloom, you can begin to harvest new potatoes and when the plants die back, after a light frost or two, you can harvest your monster spuds. We had to try this new potato thing. How wonderful to dig around in the dirt and pull out food. Real food. Delicous, melt-in-your-mouth, life-giving food. Who knew? I’m hooked. I hope to devote a full quarter (at least) of my garden next year to spuds. (Incidentally, I’m growing Red Pontiacs.)

Another note-worthy garden veggie is Farra’s red cabbage. I wasn’t going to grow any kind of brassica this year after battling cabbage worms over a meager harvest of cauliflower and broccoli last year. I’ve never tried growing cabbage. We visited our friend’s garden/health food store and she gave us several red cabbage plants that one of her children had accidentally dumped that morning. “If you take them home and put them right in the ground, they might make it,” she said. I gave them to Farra. The only thing we had growing at the time was garlic. Farra planted six by the garlic and one by itself in another bed that is now growing popcorn. They are doing fantastically. The are absolutely beautiful (again, pictures when I can). Not a cabbage worm in sight. Are we just growing too few to mess with? Garlic and onions are suppose to help, and the six have garlic on one side and onions on the other… I think next year I’ll plant the garlic an onions along every bed instead of by themselves. Anyway… I bet red sauerkraut will be interesting.

* * * * *

I could go and go, but that’s enough for one sitting, I suppose. I’ll go read scripture with the girls (Bobby and the boys are camping) and eat some popcorn and leftover pizza, then go “convocate” with some friends. There are a couple families in the area visiting and so today looks to be even more enjoyable than usual. One of these families just spent a month in Belize. They’re scoping out their options. They’re not the only ones. Didn’t this used to be a country that a large majority of people wanted to live in? Now I hear more and more of people looking elsewhere because of the way things are going. What a world. I sure look forward to Yahweh’s kingdom, don’t you?

6/16/09

Cherokee Pass, Missouri. Just south of Fredericktown, my hometown. It might be considered part of Fredericktown, I’m not sure. There’s a gem of a flea market called “Fred’s Bargin Barn.” There are two parts to his store; a big wood framed, gambrel style barn and an even bigger pole barn addition on the back. Well, there were two parts, prior to the storm on May 8^th. The back section looks like it got kicked in by a giant. I talked to a friend who happened to just finished working on the roof of the back section when the storm came and destroyed it. They all ran to the front of the building and were safe. He told me Fred was under-insured and doesn’t have the money to rebuild.

One can see the effects of the storm everywhere in and around Fredericktown. Metal barns and sheds are still scattered across fields and yards. Every other house in town has a blue tarp on the roof, awaiting repairs. Every third house has a roofing company’s sign in the yard. Everyone has at least one stump, all that remains of their favorite shade tree, most have several.  In the woods there are trees snapped, waiting for their tops to go ahead and fall and begin the decomposing process. Some are leaning like a stiff breeze might blow them over. There are piles of brush in all the ditches. We just drove past the town cemetery and there was a man taking a picture of a massive oak that had fallen. The few big trees that shaded the grounds are lying down, resting in peace with the folks under the tombstones. There’s scaffolding in front of the flower shop; I guess they’re finally getting around to repairing the brick front. They’ve had signs up since the storm saying, “No, the sky isn’t falling, but the bricks might so, please use the back door.” The “we have generators” signs in all the hardware stores have been replaced by, “we have chainsaws” and “we have stump grinders.”

The yards in town have been pretty well cleared of the tree debris. For a few days there was a smokey haze over the town while they burned all the townies’ logs and brush on the town‘s “back forty.”. Head outside town where there are more trees and you see things going a little slower. Like us, a lot of folk heat their homes with wood so as the trees are cleared out of the yard they’re bucked, split and stacked. We have room to pile the brush so we pile it until it’s dry enough to burn. It’s a more time consuming process than having someone with a tractor and dump truck scoop it up and haul it away. Road signs are still cock-eyed or down completely.

We’ve had a lot of thunderstorms the last few weeks and each one makes me a tad nervous. When the forecast says, “damaging winds” I nervously eyeball the trees around our homestead. Was that black oak leaning like that before the big storm? That sassafras wasn’t, I know. A little rain to soften the ground, a strong wind… what will it take to bring more down? Mom and I agree, we’ll never look at trees the same way again. Living in the woods doesn’t seem as safe and snug as it did a few weeks ago.

Mom and Dad were talking about how nothing surprising really happens anymore. They rescinded the statement; a tree falling on their house was pretty surprising.

We know a lot of guys in the construction trade and most of them have been pretty busy since the storm. Guys, like Bobby, that were really hurtin’ for work. Steve’s been keeping Bobby busy, but we’ve also had two others tell us they’d put him to work if he had any down time with Steve. Steve pays well enough that when he has any down time we just work at home. There’s no end of things to do.

Not everyone’s busy, though. Ran into a roofing/home improvement friend at the store on a rainy day and joked with him about not being out roofing. This man has been going back and forth to TN for work because he can’t get any around here. I’d seen his signs all over town after the storm, but he said he hasn’t been getting many calls. He even advertised. He did a few bids for folks who needed them for their insurance company, but not much work. I got the go-ahead from Bobby and we’re having this friend do our roof. It’s a little more than Bobby can tackle and Steve won’t be freed up to help until the end of the summer and then his family will be hard at work preparing to move. So it’s good for all parties.

There’s no hurry on the roof except that we have to get the house repairs done before the bank will give us what’s left of the insurance money, the money we save by doing the work ourselves. We are planning to use some of that extra to fence in an area for the goats, since our fencing all came down in the storm and wasn’t covered by the insurance. We’re growing a little weary of staking the goats out each day, especially now that it’s so hot. But we do get so much more milk than leaving them in the barn and feeding them hay. And I’d feel bad leaving them penned up all day.

Bobby had a couple days off earlier this week and we did some repairs. When we moved into our house it had a 12’ sliding glass patio door. A  4’ door with a 4’ fixed pane on each side of it. The screen has been in disrepair for some time and so we usually keep it closed up, which is dreadful because there’s only one window in the room. We’d been wanting to take it all out to put in a regular 6’ patio door with a window on either side of it. It got damaged in the storm so the insurance paid for it. Yay! We got the door in and everything framed. Still waiting on the windows to come in. I’m very grateful.

The only other insurance-covered item is the deck that the above-mentioned door opens onto. We talked to our roofer friend but he was going to charge a bit more than we had to spend and we know most of it’s labor. Most of it’s labor I can do, some of it’s not. When he’s done on the roof I’m going to see if he can just do the framing on the deck. I should be able to do the decking and the rail. My parents are great deck builders… maybe it’s in my blood?  I can hope.

6/16/09

I suppose it’s somewhat humorous that having the time to write and the inspiration to write don’t often coincide in my life. (Humorous is a better option than depressing, don’t you think?) I’m currently riding along in my van (having talked Bobby into driving - he doesn’t care to drive this beast) and we’re still about 45 minutes from home. It’s a beautiful evening, cooling off nicely, we just had a wonderful visit with some friends, and I have nothing in particular on my mind. When I’m at home, cooking, cleaning, schooling, sewing, gardening, goating, chickening, and whatnot, I usually experience what I call bloghead. I know I’m not alone in this experience, but don’t know what others call it. When I see and experience things throughout the day my brain automatically begins to format them to share on the blog. Words and phrases come together on their own, rearranging themselves to best capture my thoughts, the best way to present it in writing to my audience. I understand that this is common to writers. I understand that photographers experience a similar thing. “This would make a great photo…” Good bloggers experience both, I think.

Apparently there is a very short expiration date on the phrases turned and mental images formed. A “write by“ date, if you will. Mine stay fresh and pliable in my heat up to about 47 and a half hours. If I haven’t got it written down by then, it’s lost forever. I can sometimes still work with an idea past that time if it’s a real gem, but it doesn‘t come as naturally. Emotion-based rants and rabbit-trails, good or bad, are very short lived. That’s good for the bad ones (too many times I’ve posted after having been rubbed the wrong way - reacting instead of acting. A good rule of thumb is “sleep on it“), bad for the good ones (too many times I’ve lost a beautiful or inspiring bit because I didn’t take time to write it out).

When I have time to write and no particular subject or inspiration, I do what other bloggers call scattershooting. A little of this, a little of that, mostly updating on the latest homestead happenings.

I cracked up laughing when I read a friend’s recent post. He stopped his regular blogging to devote his time elsewhere, posting only an update at the end of each month. I'll leave you with what he shared when the first month ended:

“You might be wondering what I’ve been doing with all those hours of freed-up time that I would have otherwise been using to write blog essays. Well, mostly, I just sit alone and stare blankly into space, my mouth slightly agape, only occasionally blinking, thinking about what I would be blogging about, if only I were still blogging.

Such thoughts used to spark freely along the synapses and flow through my dancing fingers, out into the vast and bustling cyber-realms, there to be discovered (and mostly appreciated) by a precious few. Now, however, the sparks only short-circuit and ricochet about in my cranium. Marlene says my head has developed a slight Parkinson-like tremor.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m enjoying the retirement. It just takes a little getting used to. It is surprising, really, how much of one’s identity can get wrapped up in a blog.
You might be wondering what I’ve been doing with all those hours of freed-up time that I would have otherwise been using to write blog essays. Well, mostly, I just sit alone and stare blankly into space, my mouth slightly agape, only occasionally blinking, thinking about what I would be blogging about, if only I were still blogging.

Such thoughts used to spark freely along the synapses and flow through my dancing fingers, out into the vast and bustling cyber-realms, there to be discovered (and mostly appreciated) by a precious few. Now, however, the sparks only short-circuit and ricochet about in my cranium. Marlene says my head has developed a slight Parkinson-like tremor.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m enjoying the retirement. It just takes a little getting used to. It is surprising, really, how much of one’s identity can get wrapped up in a blog."

We did it. Everyone else is doing it, which right off makes me not want to do it, but we did it anyway. We bought a pool and set it up yesterday.

I know, I know… we could have used the money for something much more important like paying off debt, or buying useful tools, or even putting aside for an emergency.

Plus there's the expense of water and upkeep.

And we have the creek we could use. 

But....  (here I go, trying to justify another frivolous purchase)

The pool keeps the children closer to the house where I can keep an eye on them.

 I know we'll still go to the creek from time to time because it’s just so much neater than the  pool.

And as hard as the children have been working with me around here, cleaning up the storm mess and gardening, I wanted to reward them with a quick cool-off on hot afternoons...

And look how much they enjoy it…

I’m a’thinkin’ that there’s nothing quite like being the mother of several small children. Nothing I know of, anyway. Nope, not even being the father of several small children. I’m sure that’s an entirely different sort of thing, even considering the most tender stay-at-home dads I know (Mark Chapman comes to mind). There will always be something different about a woman (especially if she’s birthed the child) and the way she perceives things, feels thing, imagines things.

That aside, I’ve been experiencing a round of something I think anyone who provides the primary care for two or more small children will totally relate to. I say a “round” because I went through this in ‘03, when Atira and Farra were two and four,

in ‘05 when Seth and Atira were two and four,

and in ‘07 when Blue and Seth were two and four

It took me by surprise the first time and really wore this new momma down. I was surprised again the second time, but less so when I realized there might be a pattern, which I was sure of by the third time. I forget about it until it happens and then my heart floods with memories, “oh yeeeaah. I remember this.”

So here’s the story. Tell me if this sounds familiar.

It’s 10:23am. Your husband is away, hard at work (or working hard at holding down the couch if it’s the weekend - this thing I’m going to share could and does happen any and all days of the week) and you’re feeling alright because you got some laundry washed and hung on the line, breakfast dishes washed, a sewing pattern laid out and fabric cut for a dress, and you’re staying on top of the older children who are sitting around the table partly doing schoolwork and mostly trying to make sure their siblings do their schoolwork. Then you notice it. What is that sound? Could it be? Oh no. Silence. Oh yes. That’s what it is alright. You peek around the corner and the two year old and four year old are no longer playing in the living room. Their constant chatter has migrated elsewhere, out of earshot. This can mean only one thing. It starts with T and has all those other letters after it. I don’t have to spell it out. You know.

We’re all familiar with that silence. Yet there is another scenario, quite similar. Instead of silence, the normal play chatter turns to hysterical, tears-in-the-eyes laughter, which also means trouble. Bobby and I call this the “animal abuse” laugh because more often than not it involves a dog or cat or other beloved pet being hit, stuffed in a box, wrapped in a blanket or torn limb from limb, all things that terribly amuse a two year old for some reason, especially when their four year old sibling, who very much knows better, does the abusing. I’m guessing this sort of thing doesn’t just happen in the Williams household. We’re special, but not that special.

Here’s my team this year: alone they are Royal Payne

and Blue Berry

Together, they are a toddler tornado and go by the name Royal Blue. That’s what I’ll be calling out all summer, I’m sure. “ROYAL! BLUE! WHAT ARE YOU TWO UP TO?” The neighbor is going to wonder if I'm terribly fond of that color.

It sure is something to watch your baby grow up and become an involved, genuine member of the family. They hit two and suddenly your older siblings accept them as a friend, a playmate, not just a baby to be watched after and annoyed by. They also realize they can blame things on them.

I’m glad I’m mature enough now to be able to laugh at it. And experienced enough to anticipate it. If you take the right approach and take the time to watch them and some of their antics (some. Others must be stopped immediately. Poor Fluffy) instead of chasing them down with a switch when they‘ve wandered off behind your back, it’s actually a joy and a blessing and will provide pleasant memories to think over in your older years (I’m hoping).

A couple weeks ago I spied Royal Blue from out of the kitchen window, playing in our gravel driveway (which is well away from the road, fear not). They were near the van and this is not typical for them, so I went to the door and reminded them not to mess around on the van or throw rocks. I intended to watch to see if they obeyed, but somehow I got sidetracked. (Do take note, I have three older children under age ten and an infant.)

Speaking of getting sidetracked… Please hold while I go check up on Royal Blue. …… Okay, I’m back.

Seth is perched high up on the root mass of an oak that had fallen across our drive. I asked if he had a good view, he said he did. I asked if he could see Royal and Blue. He pointed behind him, down on the ground. I asked if they were being good. He said they were throwing sawdust on Stormy and Daisy, our goat kids. I asked if they were laughing hysterically while doing so. He said they were. Good to know all is well.

Back to my other story. I did peek out on them some twenty minutes later and they were climbing the ladder on the back of the van. I grabbed a switch from the shelf and headed out the door. Disobedience is not to be tolerated. I stopped when I saw them up close. They were covered, absolutely covered in dirt. Very classic, with their bright eyes shining out from their dull, brownish gray faces, a darker smudge here and there where the dirt had found a wet spot to cling to, dirt rubbed into their shirts where they’d tried to clean themselves off, dirt in their hair. (I’m kicking myself for not taking time to snap a photo.) Actually, on closer inspection it was ashes from the spot in the drive that I had burned leaves two months ago. To find that much dry, dusty dirt available for the throwing and rolling they’d have to wait until August around here.

At any rate, they looked like they had just finished having a tremendous amount of fun and maybe, maybe, it had just begun to cross their minds that I might not be pleased when I saw them. I gave them each switches for their disobedience and then cracked up laughing at their dirty faces. Then I did what any country-living parent would do with two ash-covered children on a warm spring day. I stripped them to their undies and hosed them down in the yard, chuckling to myself, anticipating just how to form the story for Bobby when he got home so he could join in the fun. (Note: Our well water is very cold, but I had watered some seedlings in the garden that morning and knew the 100’ of hose had nice sun-warmed water in it - so it was unpleasant, but not cruel.)

Blue hardly knows what to do with herself while Royal is napping in the afternoon. She often pesters me, “Mom, can Royal get up?” When he is awake and by some mischance they have each found something to do on their own (which is never, ever as troublesome), she will soon miss him and call him to her side in her cute little curly-blonde, blue-eyed voice (if you have a curly-blonde haired, blue eyed girl you know you can hear it in her voice). He usually leaves what he’s doing and comes running with a resounding, “Whaaaat?” as though he thought she actually wanted something besides his company. They are the best of friends (and as is the case with all of us, the worst of enemies when not getting along), just like Farra and Atira at that age, and Atira and Seth, and Seth and Blue, and I’m sure like Royal and Little Brook will be.

Last week Royal Blue wandered into the barn, which is off limits unless with an adult or Farra and they know it. When I caught them (“gee I’m getting so much done. It’s so nice and quiet and the kids are entertaining themselves so well. Uh-oh, where are they?”) they had done the very thing I hate the most about unsupervised children in the barn. They got into the feed bins. Thankfully, there’s not usually animals in the barn during the day, with maybe the exception of a snoozing cat or two, so they didn’t feed the goats chick starter or anything. They did lock up Blue’s orange kitten, Sunny, and tried to feed him hen scratch but, he apparently wasn’t interested. There was cat food and chick starter and scratch all over the barn floor. That was frustrating. What am I gonna do, make them pay for it with the ten cents they each earned stacking wood for me the other day? I switched them and told them they are not allowed in the barn at all, even with Momma, for a whole week. Riiiight… what’s a week?

They definitely keep ya on your toes. I should get ballet slippers.

Buckle up for a long-winded, scatter-brained rant as I…

Consider Electricity

The “inland hurricane,” or whatever it was, on the 8^th knocked out power in all of Fredericktown and much of the surrounding area. There were many trees to be cleared out of the road and off the power lines and many lines and poles were snapped. I understand several crews came in from surrounding states to assist. We personally were without power for 13 days, a little longer than some of our neighbors because we also had to wait for the power company to replace our busted meter which was handled by a separate crew. Turns out we needed a new transformer, too, but they got it all hooked back up in an hour or so once they got here.

Those two weeks provided a great opportunity to consider electricity and how it pertains to daily living. I’ve done this somewhat in the last couple months since we decided “off-grid” is where we want to be. Whether I’m cooking or doing laundry or changing diapers or cleaning or reading to the kids at night, I’ve wondered, “What will this look like off-grid?” We’ve made little adjustments here and there, like taking two out of the three light bulbs out of our ceiling fan fixtures, not turning on lights during the day and using them sparingly at night. I hardly use my dryer anymore, disciplining myself to use the clotheslines when the weather’s fair (I put up a second 50’ pulley system from the deck to a nearby tree - both lines came down in the storm). The toaster and microwave oven are gone and I don’t use a mixer anymore for most things. Some of you are remembering the Nutrimill I just bought to grind grain. I love it. I’m saving up for a hand crank/pulley mill and will part with the Nutrimill when we go off-grid. However, I won’t give up long hot showers until I must.

Before I go further, let me clear this up - “off-grid” means not hooked up to the power company. It does not necessarily mean non-electric. Electricity is not evil. It’s a wonderful tool. To have light at the flip of a switch for the cost of a few pennies is very cool. But we see ourselves dependent on an unreliable system, all the more obvious since the storm, and want to lessen that dependence in any way we can. Also, should we sell this place and do the from-scratch-debt-free thing we’re looking to do, it will be a long time before we’d even be able to hook up to grid power, so we’re looking to be able to make do without it. We plan to have a 12 volt battery system (I think I said that before), for as long as we’re able or see the need. This will be for a couple lights and for charging batteries for a few other things (like this laptop). It will only be for things we can just as easily live without. Our primary systems (water, food, laundry, lights) will be non-electric.

The degree to which you are horrified by the idea of living without electricity is the degree to which you are dependent on it.

Bobby and I get excited by the idea of being able to fend for ourselves, to have the knowledge and skill to provide for our basic needs, regardless of downed power lines and under stocked grocery stores. I don’t get excited by big screen TVs, dishwashers or clothes dryers. I don‘t know how many NFL teams there are anymore and it’s been a long time since I kept up on what movies are new at the theater or video store. I get excited by learning to make soap or use powerless hand tools or how to rid my garden of flea beetles (garlic!) or play a card game with my 9yr old. The simpler the better. (Right now I make my own laundry soap using Felsnaptha. It’s great! It’s easy, it works, and I save money. But what is Felsnaptha? How do I make it? What‘s washing soda? That‘s why it‘s nice to have the ‘net back. I might not use straight lye soap, but at least I‘ll know how to make it when I need to.)

Some folks think we’re going overboard. Backward. A friend even referred to off-grid living as a new fad. Hmm. Here are my thoughts. We are going overboard - off a sinking ship. I guess you could say we are going backward - back to a way of living practiced by people who knew how to take care of themselves. It seems to me that utter dependence on systems like grocery stores and power companies for our basic necessities is the new fad, a very new one when you take in all of history.

We are taking steps toward freedom. I don’t believe we’ll see it in full this side of the coming kingdom, but at least we’re learning to take care of ourselves. Very slowly, because frankly we’re idiots, system babies, and there’s an awful lot to learn. Honestly (now, don’t laugh) I like to think that someday we’ll have the ability to use horses and wagons instead of cars and tractors… okay, laugh. I laugh myself when I realize how much else there is to learn before we would dare tackle such a thing - I wonder if I can cook a whole week‘s worth of meals without propane or electric?

But about freedom. One step at a time. Every little bit counts. Our children may not ever learn how to program a computer or operate a dishwasher, but they’ll know how to grow their own food and put it by, how to keep useful animals, how to do cook and do laundry when the power’s out, how to build barns and hopefully houses. They’re learning to enjoy the work of their hands. And we’re working together, which means we’re able to fulfill Duet. 6 and teach them Yahweh’s ways. And when the work’s all done, we jump in the creek. Someone tell me I’m depriving my children.

This isn‘t so much about doing without, it‘s about doing more with less, thereby freeing ourselves up to pour time and energy into eternal things, things that will last. It’s a lifestyle, a worldview. Anyway, let me see if I can get this soap box put away somewhere and we’ll get back to the storm.

When we lost power in the storm we weren’t as hard-pressed as some people, but were more so than we would have liked. Understand, having systems in place and being prepared to go without power is different than planning it and flipping the switch when you’re ready! Compared to folks whose lives revolve around electricity we didn’t have a computer (ahem), we don’t watch TV (we have one we pull out to watch videos periodically - now replaced by the laptop), and we don’t rely on electricity for cooking. We have an LP oven and separate stovetop (with electric ignition - doh! I‘ve never used so many matches in my life), as well as an LP water heater. We were already used to low lighting and this time of year when it gets dark it’s bedtime anyway, so although I had all the lamps and candles ready, we didn’t use them a lot.

There is nothing like a power outage to make you realize how important water is to your everyday life. When everyone has electricity, I think that we, with our country wells, have the far better situation than those with city water. Taste, purity, availability, cost. But flip that switch and man, we’ve got nothing to drink and our city friends are out lavishly watering their gardens. The pump that pulls water up from the cool depths of the earth and delivers it to our indoor and outdoor faucets alike works only with electricity. I was prepared with a few gallons of drinking water, but knew that wouldn’t last long. The creek was considerably harder to get to with the downed trees in the way (my beautiful huge white pine! {sniff}) but we fetched a few buckets full for the animals and for dishwashing and flushing the toilet (thankfully, we had already converted one bathroom over to a humanure - that’s a dressed up 5-gallon bucket with a stockpile of shredded leaves to cover the waste).

We were kicking ourselves for not having a rainwater catch system in place. We’d talked about it and had it somewhat planned, but hadn’t spent the money and time to do it yet. This will be a big part of our future water system. We’ll run some gutter, have downspouts carrying the water to our containers and gravity feed it to wherever it’s convenient. Right now our house is higher on the hill than the barn and garden and we could easily run water to either place via garden hoses. Or we could put the cistern on a platform and pipe it into the house, or put a big cistern in the ground and use a hand pump. Anyway, we’re thinking about these things.

We had two main concerns with the power out. Water was the first and the second was our small chest freezer full of meat. We were either going to have to find someone who could keep it for us, have a really big BBQ, or I was going to get a crash-course in canning meat. I was preparing to tackle the latter when our neighbor offered to loan us a generator on the day after the storm. Phew! 

Now, I had just read up on generators in the last issue of Countryside and was glad to be able to put my knowledge into practice. Well, there wasn’t much to it, actually, but I’m glad for the info anyway. Dad happened to be here when our neighbor dropped it off and he helped wire the well pump up so we could plug it in. One problem solved. Oh blessed water! However, the deep freezer’s up the hill, in the house, about three 50’ extension cords away. Can you guess how we managed? With three 50’ extension cords, of course. Some things from the freezer side of my fridge had spoiled already, but the rest we transferred over to the deep freezer. We kept ice in the fridge side to keep milk and things cool. In the future we hope to use a spring, creek, and/or root cellar for the few things we’d need to keep cool. I’m looking into propane fridges now, but I know this isn’t a good long-term option because it’s still dependent on an unreliable system.

The generator was a huge blessing. Besides the freezer and the pump, which we ran in the morning and evening for a couple hours at a time, some afternoons I ran an electric wringer washer and my Nutrimill. Funny, I thought, “Well, with the whole town in a crisis, at least I’m stocked up on food.“ Then I realized I had no way to grind all my grain! Ha.

Mom loaned us the washer (which she hasn’t used in years but knows better than to part with) and we set it up in the barn next to the generator. I had to do laundry with earplugs in, which was a first. I thoroughly enjoyed the wringer washer, but it was very time consuming. (My sister and some other friends who all had power back much sooner than we did helped out by taking some laundry. Thanks!) The generator overall ate up a lot of time and energy (and the noise was really atrocious), back and forth from barn to house several times a day. The whole day was planned around when we would have water. But having the generator to keep water going made all the difference during this time.

As long as the generator was running we had access to the hot water in our LP water heater and therefore had hot showers and baths right in the comfort of our own home, as well as hot water for washing dishes. Bobby hung the “hydration bladder” from a hiking back-pack up by the kitchen sink for hand washing after I suggested setting a 5 gal. bucket of water on the shelf outside the kitchen window and running in a hose with some sort of valve on it for the purpose. That was very handy and worked better than the pitcher of water we had been using.

It was definitely a good time to come up with ideas and see just what we’d need in the future. Visiting some new friends on their off-grid homestead during that time really encouraged us, too. They have great ideas and we came away very encouraged and feeling a little less crazy.

How we’d prepare for future emergency situations is one thing we’ve thought about, and preparing for a lifestyle is another. Figuring out what steps we can take now and what should wait is tricky. Obviously we don’t want to spend hundreds of dollars on a hand pump for the well if we’re going to move. We could spend $30 on a little guttering and catch a little rainwater, just in case. We’ll probably set up an outdoor camp-style kitchen and I’ll learn to use my new Dutch camp oven. This summer I’ll learn to dry more foods, preserve with fermentation, and can meat. We’ll shop around for a wringer for the laundry and maybe have someone build this hand washer thing we have plans for. Soon I’ll sort the kids clothes and get it down to a few outfits each. We definitely have plenty of firewood to heat with this winter but we might want to get a bigger woodstove because the one we got last year wasn’t quite enough. Then again, maybe we’ll find a good deal on a wood cook stove.

Right now Bobby’s working crazy long hours at a great rate of pay, for which we are so thankful, and we’ll be able to put that money aside with what we have left of the insurance money after our roof, deck and door have been repaired. We’ll get to that when the away-from-home work slows down. Meanwhile I’m trying to stay on top of the garden and the goats (after B’s next pay we’ll buy some fence panels to form a pen that we can move the goats around in until we get regular fencing up - tying them out each day takes a good bit of time) and all the regular stay-at-home-schooling-mom-of-six-young-‘uns-on-the-homestead stuff. I’m able to clear some of the downed trees a little at a time. Anyway, we’re staying busy. It’s a good season and we have lots of plans and hope for the future. But ultimately, Yahshua is our hope and Yahweh directs our steps as we await his kingdom.

It’s eight o’clock in the evening. The sun has set behind the trees in our wooded little part of the valley. I’m sitting out on what’s left of our deck, swinging in what’s left of our couch swing (a branch demolished the awning, but left the rest in tact - now I can see the stars at night). I like this laptop thing. We finished dinner awhile ago; homemade pizza with whole wheat crust from grain we ground ourselves. I wish I could say we made the cheese and pasta sauce, but we didn’t. However, I do spend the difference and by whole milk mozzarella instead of skim - once you try it, you won’t go back.

Bobby got home in time for dinner after an 11.5 hour day on a roof. Good day for it, though, just beautiful. One of those perfect weather days. He’s now asleep on the couch. Steve says he’s got the next two months booked solid for work for them. Praise Yah.

I’m listening to the children finish up evening chores in the barn. I know I can trust Farra to take care of things just like I would. She’s an incredible 9.5 yr old. Now Blue (4) is playing on the rope swing and Seth (almost 6) and Royal (2) are riding big wheels down the hill. There’s cattle lowing in the neighbor’s pasture. I wonder if they’re as content as me this evening. The wood thrushes are singing, out of sight as usual; the most beautiful bird song in the world, I think. Bobby and the kids call it “Mommy’s bird” because I enjoy the song so much. Oh, listen, there’s a tree frog croaking in the maple there, calling to friends in the woods. The air is cool, fragrant with fresh cut wood, honeysuckle, growing things. If I take my eyes of the screen a moment (and look past all the downed trees that need to be cleared) I see my garden. The peas and potatoes are lush and green, flowering white and purple, the garlic and onion tall and standing guard against invading insects. In a month the corn and squash, melons, peppers and tomatoes and herbs will all have caught up.

This is my favorite time of any day, but especially Preparation Day. Not only is the day’s work done, but the week’s. What a wonderful picture the Sabbath is of the kingdom to come. When the toils of this life are over and we shall rest. Some of you are familiar with the meanings behind numbers in the bible and are probably aware that seven is the number of completion. Every week about this time I think of that, take a deep breath and sigh, letting it sink in, thinking of the “world tomorrow.”

I could do without the mosquitoes tonight, however.

Making the evening that much more satisfying is the work we got done today. It feels so good to accomplish something, doesn’t it? The kids and I stacked a huge pile of wood. A cord or more. It wasn’t at the top of the list of things to do, but close and it sure amazed Bobby when he pulled up the drive.

I don’t believe in giving children bribes to work (or behave, or anything for that matter). However, I don’t mind paying them for special jobs. They were playing on the woodpile with the goat kids (been tying the two does out since their fence is down and the two kids run free - with all the trees down to climb and explore, the goat kids and mine all have entirely too much fun! Not as much as me watching them)

.... and I struck a deal with them. A penny per log. We worked out a system to keep track. They stack ten logs then pick up a rock from the driveway and each start a little pile on a log (the pine logs on the other side of the drive that Daddy hasn’t split yet). I’ll give them a dime for each rock in their pile. I have never seen my children so motivated. I’m glad they’re still young enough to be motivated by small change! They got right to work. I worked on the end stacks and kept the whole stack straight (with the goat kids climbing on them, they must be sturdy) and carried my share as well. I had no idea of actually stacking the whole pile, I just thought it‘d be nice to get some of it done. I’m so proud of them for how joyfully and diligently they worked. We did get it all done. Here’s the tally:

Royal: $ .10 (he was napping most of the time, but he loves to work and “be big“)
Blue:      .10 (more interested in playing)
Seth:     1.00
Atira:     1.60
Farra:    3.00

I hope this method works again, ‘cause we have plenty of wood left to work on! And now Bobby will be motivated to split some more. He actually said the other day that he finds splitting wood satisfying. If you know Bobby, you know how unusual it is for him to express that sort of thing.

Two new sounds have joined the chorus now that the sun has set: a whip-poor-will and an awakened and cranky Little Brook.

Shabbat Shalom!

So, I haven’t ventured out into blogdom yet to catch up on friends and see how everyone fared the recent Midwestern storms. I hope everyone is well.  As for us, well… at least we’ll stay warm this winter with ample firewood.

We live in timber and cattle country. After taking severe damage from what I’m told they’re calling an “inland hurricane” on the 8^th the running joke in our county and the adjoining one is, “Anyone know where a person can get some firewood?” The bad news is there won’t be much of a market for firewood for a few years. The good news is everyone will stay warm. Further good news is that insurance is picking up the tab for damages and suddenly everyone has plenty of work. I’m sure we’ll pay for it sooner and later, but as for Bobby and I, who have been praying for time, it suits us. Our friend Steve owns The Home Improvement Co. in Perryville, and has been putting Bobby to work as he is able the last few months, asked Bobby, “Can you work six days a week, long hours, for awhile?” You bet. Steve pays very well, Bobby enjoys working with him and his son, and they keep Sabbath. We’ve learned to work when there’s work to be had and store up money for when there’s none.

Between the earned income and what we’re getting from insurance for damages on our house, it buys is the time we need to prepare for the really hard times we believe are coming. Preparation for us looks like getting out of debt (including the house -whether that means paying off the mortgage or downsizing) and learning to live even more simply and provide for ourselves. It’s an ant thing. (Pro. 6:6-11)

The first week after the storm we worked around our place as we were able. The second week he worked with Steve and as we were still without electricity the daily chores ate up each day so we didn’t accomplish much beyond that, except I got most of the garden in the ground. This week it rained a lot so he didn’t work with Steve and we got done what we could between rain drops at home. Today’s the first sunny day and he got up at 3am to be able to start work as soon as there’s enough light to see by. They’ll work until dark and I bet no one will enjoy Sabbath more! We have a double Sabbath, actually, with Pentecost on First Day, and the plan is to spent that with Steve and his family and some other Torah-keepers at Elephant Rock State Park (a must see, if you’re in the area! This area is packed with outdoor recreation). So, I have much preparation to do and should not spend the whole morning writing!

But… about that storm. Whew! I’ve never seen anything like it. My mom had called around 9am and told us a big storm coming. We got some heavy rain around 10 then it let up. Somewhere in there the power went out. Then we heard from my sister that a tree had come down on Mom & Dad’s house (30 min west of us), so I got in touch with Mom who said trees had come down everywhere. “I don’t know if they’d call it a tornado, but it definitely beat a path.” Well, we went about our morning business. Dishes were done, Atira and I were cutting out fabric for a dress at the dining table. Bobby was playing with the younger kids on the couch. The wind started to pick up…

We have no basement, but our house’s first floor is concrete block (the ½ story is wood framed). After watching the wind blow for bit and thinking of Mom & Dad’s place, I suggested we move to our bedroom (Bobby’s and mine), the one farthest away from the woods. We have trees on the yard side too, but significantly less than the dining/kitchen/living room side (fewer windows, too). However, I had a hankering for popcorn and decided to brave the kitchen to pop some. The wind was really whipping the trees around. I had my eye on one particular large oak out the kitchen door and while I was popping the corn I realized it was no longer bending and swaying, it was just swaying. Right down to the ground, the trunk was swaying. “Hmm. That can’t be good,” me thinks to myself. Then I noticed the tree had stopped swaying and was just leaning against another tree. If it fell the direction it was leaning, it’d be alright, but the wind was crazy and a gust houseward would devastate the kitchen. The corn had just finished popping when I heard the cracking sound I was listening out for (having watching Bobby fell trees recently, I was familiar with the sound). I turned off the stove, grabbed the pan of popcorn in one hand and the pan of melted butter in the other and high-tailed it to the bedroom. I really like popcorn. (It’s funny how a mother’s mind works in emergency situations. I remember thinking that it was almost lunchtime and if our house was destroyed, this snack would be our only food for hours.)

That tree was the first one to fall near the house, but it did fall the direction it had been leaning and landed safely in the woods. For the next 30 minutes or so (it’d been about 15 since the wind started) we munched popcorn and watched out the two bedroom windows as every gate on the homestead blew off, the goats’ second-hand cedar privacy fence blew down (the goats were in the barn), and trees fell in slow motion everywhere. We prayed and talked about Yahweh’s awesomeness. We were amazed, but not fearful. It must be that things like this are so big, so beyond our control, that it’s easier to trust and feel safe in Yahweh’s hand than those little things we freak out over.

It was a little nerve-racking when we heard and felt a crash on our house. And not knowing, “When is this ever going to stop?” added an interesting element, different from tornado stories I’ve heard that are just roar-crash-bang and over. It died down as gradually as it had started as it did we called around and touched base with neighbors, family and friends to see how they fared. Everyone safe and amazed. Dad had gotten home safely and he and Mom made it through with no further damage to their home. My sister Galidee and her baby hid out in their cellar and lost one of their two trees at their house in town (they live halfway between us and Mom & Dad) Vince was safe at work (where it stormed, but not as badly).

I think it was nearly 1pm when we ventured out to survey the damage. The tree that we thought must have crushed our house was a huge black oak that only landed on the back deck and took out a chunk of overhanging roof on it’s way down. All you could see out the sliding glass door was this oak tree and the hickory that came down with it.

Branches of it crushed part of my garden fence. Trees had landed awful close to our truck and van, but no damage done. The barn/chicken coop/well-house group of buildings was okay. Several trees down in our drive. Trees down everywhere. Big, beautiful black oaks (the whites have a bigger, stronger root system, I’ve learned from all this - very few were down anywhere), stately pines (are pines every anything but stately?), our wonderful hickories that provided so many sweet nuts last fall. My two pear trees were down, big cedars by the creek… The loss of the trees is the saddest, as they’re the only things that can’t be replaced. But the cedars will be posts, the hickories tool handles and firewood, the oaks firewood, the pine kindling. We have room to pile the brush to let it dry, we’ll burn it off later. With Bobby so busy away from home the clean-up here will be slow. I’m capable of an awful lot, but I’m not yet willing to learn to use the chainsaw and it all needs to be cut before the kids and I can move it.

We soon discovered that some of the worst damage in the area was along our mile-long highway. By 6pm the road-crew made up of local folks with chainsaws had cut a path down the highway to our house (we’re the last house). We had offers for help cutting up the trees in our drive the next day, but since it was Sabbath we declined. That evening we got our oil lamps cleaned up, fixed some food and settled in. Sabbath morning after breakfast we walked along the road and checked out the damage, visited with neighbors, heard story after story of how homes and lives were spared. Amazing.

(That is the top of the oak that landed on our deck.  Sawing away at the oak is our friend Brad, the wildest man ever to wield a chainsaw, who came down from St. Louis to scare me half to death help.  Yahweh bless him abundantly!).

We were without grid power for 13 days. That’s another story, the details of which will have to wait until another time. 

I’m back. You knew I would be, didn’t you? This technophobe (I haven’t googled that yet to see if there are others) broke down and bought a laptop two days ago. Feeling like I must justify such a purchase, here are my reasons:

1. I miss writing. Really writing. I have pretty much always had a computer to write on and my fingers can almost, almost, keep up with my brain when typing. I’ve been writing by hand these last few months, journaling as an outlet (I think better in written word) and also as something to leave my children (if they’re so inclined to want to know just what it was that drove Mommy to the nut-house). A record of my life, my faith, that sort of thing. But I’ve found it very difficult (atrocious handwriting and hand cramps aside) to write by hand. It doesn’t flow. I can’t seem to express myself. I know others do it, so I guess I’m just spoiled to typing.

Blogging is a part of that. Being able to share in written word what’s going on in my life, to encourage others, whatever. To write something someone else enjoys reading. (You know, I’m reading a book by a fella who has the gift of writing and I’m enjoying it so much I think it pushed me over the edge to get blogging again.)

2. We are spending entirely too much time and money on trips to the library to use the computers! It’s good in one respect: we have discovered that our itty bitty local library actually does have some useful books and are making good use of them and the interlibrary loan system. However, we’ve been using their computers to search for land and research non-electric/off-grid living. Every day there’s something we want to know and we keep a list going and visit the library once or twice a week. $14.95 a month for unlimited internet access (dial-up, which is all we can get out here) right here at home is very worth it. So, it’s a tool to aid our journey down this new road.

3. Unlike the last computer we bought and promptly sold, we can buy this one and still pay our bills and buy toilet paper.

My hesitations:

1. $400 is $400. It’s hard to spend that kind of money on something so fragile, something that may not last or will at least require expensive repairs to do so. (Now the big, cast iron camp Dutch oven that I bought new the other day for $50... Not a problem. My great-great grandchildren could be using it when I’m cold in my grave! It’s versatile and very practical.) Adding a printer pushes it pretty close to $500. (My mom again found me a super deal on this laptop so at least I know I’ve got quality for the money.) You could put up a good bit of fence for $500. You could pay off debt, help a brother, travel to see friends (miss you Houks!) with that money. Or buy every cast iron kitchen gadget you could possibly need.

2. I’m a technophobe. I’m not sure how this happened. I’m not sure it’s rational. The advance of technology gives me the willies. What can I say? I’m hooked on the simple-life, even if it means more work. I like working with my hands with tools that are going to last and don’t require fuel, be it electric or petrol. (That’s why it was so painful to not be able to express myself  as well in writing without a PC.) On one hand, I’m in awe of technology. There’s hardly a job to do or a tool to do it with that someone hasn’t thought up a gadget for. When was the last time you stopped to marvel at a telephone? How incredible that we can talk to someone across the world, now even without wires or anything? The vehicles that motor us along at such convenient speeds we take for granted. The fridge, the toaster, the microwave, dishwasher. Time saving, useful. I’m not even giving page space to the toys and the zillions of dollars spent just for our entertainment - incredible inventions though they may be.

How clear to me that we are made in the image of Yahweh, the creator. You don’t see monkeys designing computers, building in-ground swimming pools, inventing gadgets. He gave mankind alone his love for and ability to create. What saddens me is that mankind often gives himself the credit, pats himself on the back for his intelligence. Also, and this is the root of my aversion to technology, mankind has become distracted by his creation, enamored of it, has given up the knowledge of how to function without it, has gone grossly in debt to own it, sometimes sacrificing family and relationships to own it. My stomach turned when I walked into Best Buy to pick up this laptop - I almost backed out then and there! I thought to myself, “what am I doing here? I belong in a farm store!”

Yeah. I know. I have issues. Although there might be something to what I’m saying, mine is probably an extreme case and not to be admired.

3. Computer = time-eater. However, it can’t be worse than two trips to the library a week and the time it takes to write by hand. Being without it for three months or more has given us time to learn to live without it. We’ve agreed to delete most or all of the games, to cut down on the temptation to vegetate. We’re not opposed to games and have a shelf full of board games and cards. I was trying to figure out what the difference is… I think, for one, the computer games are easier to get sucked into. Another, they tend to be less social. If we pull a game off the shelf, it’s so we can play with family or friends.

We got a laptop instead of a desktop, though they’re more expensive, for two reasons:

1. When we do go off grid, it will be easier to use and require less of the twelve volt system we’re putting together.

2. Out of sight, out of mind. It’s not going to be a centerpiece or take up a prime spot in the house. We’ll pull it out to do research or to write or do photos, and that’s that.

{sigh} Well I don’t know about you, but I feel better.

Oh dear, it’s 7:30, time to milk the goats.