The garden as of yesterday has been completely planted, and I'm thrilled to see little dark crumply leaves sprouting out from the potato hills 2 weeks from the time they were set. I'm going to see just how high I can pile those hills :) The last time I planted potatoes was with my father as a 10 year old.  Here's to you Dad! :)  He's in Heaven now,  but I planted them in honor of him this year.  Colyn begged for peas, so we planted those- twice.  He was a bit too eager,  but I didn't want to squelch his enthusiasm, so we took a chance back in April.  The second planting is doing nicely.  We have a yard of compost for sidedressing, and it's so rich and fun for Colyn to poke sticks at, until the bugs come out and irritate us both :) 

My cold frame experiment is doing well so far.  The true test will be this fall and winter, after the remainder of the garden has been harvested.  We are eating lettuce and other greens now, which is a treat in Maine if you don't have a greenhouse.  I also learned recently that carrot tops are edible by humans as well as bunny rabbits and horses; I found a neat recipe online for carrot top soup, so as soon as I am able to start pulling those carrots, we'll have carrot top soup as a side.  I can't wait. 

This year our garden is pretty diverse, considering it's size.  It's only about 14 X 20 feet. Plus, we have raised beds along the south side of the house. We have green beans (or yellow, I can't remember, but it'll be a surprise :), peas, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, herbs, radishes, spinach, lettuce, beets, carrots, cucumbers, and squash.  We started all of our vining plants and tomatoes and potatoes from seeds.  The pumpkins will go in next week once the plants get their true leaves.  We had a late start on those, and just as well, because the cold spell we are having in Maine right now is having a negative impact on the peppers.  I may have to keep them covered with plastic rowcover just to keep them alive this year.  Fortunately, I have 3 times as many plants as I need in the garden, because I may have to replant them- again! :)  There's no real rush in Maine.  The second week in June seems to be the magic moment for me, for getting those delicate plants in.

Our bread making endeavors have paid off tremendously. We eat homebaked bread almost exclusively now at a 1/4 of what we would pay at the store, or less. More out of necessity at the beginning,  it's been a blessing in disguise.  It's absolutely delicious compared to the boring, bland, and expensive bread in the stores.  I had a delayed sticker shock the other day when I realized that I am in fact paying a dollar more per loaf for bread than I payed last year- 25% increase in one year.  That's just the beginning. 

We have really had to cinch our wallets, but it hasn't been as painful for us as for some, because we already live a pretty simple life.  Still, there is always room for cutbacks.

Next year, we may be tilling our cottage lawn and planting a garden there, to further offset our food bill.  I don't think the guests will mind much.  We may try it for a year, because we have the perfect space.  Less mowing too :) 

This year we had to cut some of our evergreens in the front yard to give some sunshine to our little garden, and we're making the most of the space, but even my husband who normally wouldn't get too excited about tearing up the lawn, was somewhat enthusiastic about it.  I think he realizes that if I can make a garden grow under a hedge of trees, just think what potential I have in an actual garden space :)

My goal this year is to can some pasta sauce, and pickles, hold over root veggies in the cold frames, and eat yummy salad like crazy this summer.

Our other, more important project this spring has been the source of heat we'll need this coming winter.  We are both convinced that things are going to get very difficult in the coming years, and are both grateful that we have our little metal shop stove to heat the house with.  We salvaged about 5 or 6 cord of wood this spring, split and stacked it- mostly soft wood from neighbors yards which had fallen, and now we need another 3 cord or so of hardwood to help it burn warm enough to heat the house.  Eventually we may go with a larger stove, but for now, we're justing going to add a screen and a damper to let more heat into the house.  At night, we just stoke up the fire, and sleep under down comforters.  We're used to waking up to a 50 degree house anyway, and we all sleep better that way.  I think our son is part polar bear, because even in the mid winter, he insists on a tshirt, if that, and still kicks off the covers.  We've quite trying to papoose him.  :)  He climbs into bed with us around 2 am when he wakes up, (he says, to keep us warm :)

Yep, we're pretty convinced that some real hard times are coming, but we're choosing just to be thankful and take each day as it comes.  The lobstering business is slow as usual this time of the year, and combined with that the high price of fuel and the dropping price of lobster at the market is a bit scary, but we don't go there.  We just keep going on and trusting God to provide for our needs, and He always does.  We read through "The Long Winter" again this spring, and it seems the timing is so appropriate in helping us to prepare our son for the inevitable and necessary changes that we are making to keep our heads above water.  There won't be endless supplies of dry cereal- from now on, it will be homemade bread toast, hot cereal, or eggs, etc.  Very little processed food is coming through our doors.  We make our own yogurt and bread, stock up on seasonal fruits and vegetables, and are building our pantry with dry goods such as rice and lentils, spelt and wheat berries.   I'm not an alarmist, I'm a realist, so I hope that anyone who reads this will gain something positive for themselves in preparing for the coming hardships.  Neighbor helping neighbor is how we're all going to make it through, just like during the depression of the thirties.

If the concerns of the economy were not enough we have to worry about suspicious traffic coming by our house all the time.  We have a neighbor who is in trouble with the law for drugs, and was hauled away in handcuffs accompanied by 5 cruisers a few days ago.  He was apparently found with enough stuff in his posession to put him away for a long time.  In the meantime, we're getting a dog!  A big one with teeth that barks.  A friend of mine is giving me a black boxer lab mix- God bless her.  And Wayne is buying a gun- for hunting of course, and added peace of mind.  If the lobstering season goes bad, we'll be eating alot of our product, so a little venison on the side will help bring variety to our diet. 

A rainy April morning on coastal Maine doesn't seem like much of a gardening inspiration, but I'm encouraged.  My husband and son helped me put together two 4' by 8' cold frames together with the hopes of getting an early start on our growing season, and harvesting carrots throughout the frigid months.  The lights leave much to be desired.  For now, they are covered with 6 mil, drooping plastic, with holes cut to drain off the rain.  Come winter, they'll be covered in Lexan and hiding treasures of green under blankets of snow.  A small investment for a sweet reward.

This latest project is just one of many steps that we have taken as a family to be less dependent, more self sufficient, less at the mercy of big government and big business, and live more simply with less need for disposable income.  Less overhead means more freedom to spend our precious time as we please.   As a homeschooling one income family, we are beginning to feel the pinch, but we also realize that if I was driving to work every day and our son was away from us we would be feeling it in many more ways.  So, as of late, we've made a few changes to adjust to the changing times.  We've already felt the positive benefits.

First, we bought an inexpensive bread machine and bake 3 or 4 loaves of bread each week for sandwiches.  We have saved about 15 dollars each  week for about a month so far, and the machine has already paid for itself.  We are also eating more vegetables and whole grains, and less meat.  Better on the budget, and better for health too.  My grocery cart is about half as full as usual because of the noticeably missing, less tasty stacks of bread.  I never realized that I spent nearly 100 dollars a month on bread alone! 

We have taken a hard look at our discretionary spending, too.  We don't have alot of excess spending in our life, but we have a few line items earmarked for cuts if necessary.  Other than good quality food, the vehicle that Wayne uses to get to work, and the various major insurance policies, everything else is negotiable.  New clothes are optional.  Going out to dinner is optional.  Cable is optional.  Internet, while very nice to have at home, is optional as we do have a public library with free internet.  Once my son is old enough to supervise himself at the library in a few years, I'll be able to unplug the internet if I so choose, but more likely we'll just cut back on the cable instead. Having 8 lights on in the house at any given time- optional and counterproductive.  We give our son an occasional red light challenge- a nickel for shutting off every unnecessary light left on in the house.  Positive reinforcement is good for the environment too :)  I pine for the day when there are not more gaudy power lines strung all over the landscape and we are heating our home with the sun instead, but we can do our part in the meantime.

We have begun to hang our clothes out to dry again- It can be done in Maine in the winter time, with gloves and a face mask, as long as the air is dry and the sun is out.  On the coldest days though, especially when there is 2 feet of snow on the deck, I afford myself the luxury of dryer dried clothes.  We also have a line in the living room for when the wood stove is going.

We have scavaged and salvaged storm fallen trees and bought a woodsplitter for 200 dollars.  We split and stacked about 3 cord of free wood from our neighbors and friend's yards, saving us 600 dollars in the cost of buying wood, plus what we saved by shutting off our furnace during the day, and using it sparingly during the evening while we sleep.  Within the last month, we've saved over 200 dollars in propane and electric, plus 400 dollars on the wood we split for next year. 

We are hoping to start spinach next week so that we can eat from our garden in May instead of July, and a yardsale in May should help to cover the cost of our seeds. 

Our gasoline bill has never been terrible even though we have an SUV and a pickup truck.  My husband works less than 1 minute from home, and I rarely drive more than 5 minutes from home to run errands.  When I do have to travel 30 minutes "into town", I keep a running list, and I don't go until I can absolutely not do without any longer.  I weigh the cost of buying basic supplies close to home against the cost of my time, wear and tear on the car, etc.  Usually one trip per month into town meets our needs because we keep our pantry stocked up.  I usually try to go alone to save on impulse purchases, but occasionally we'll go together and my husband takes our son out for a less expensive "treat".

That's the nuts and bolts of our recent exploits, just stoking the fire and waiting for spring to arrive, which I think has finally happened.  My son exclaimed with pure delight yesterday morning as he peered out the window, "look Mama!  Two robin birdies are coming to eat the worms in the garden!"  We had just turned the soil over the day before and uncovered several yummy looking earthworms- I pray a good indication of our summer gardening

My father was a homesteader.  He owned 260 acres of land in western Massachusetts and his ambition was to be a homesteader- The house was over one hundred years old at the time.  There was plenty of wooded land, plenty of field for grazing, and he always grew the greenest vegetable garden of anyone I knew. 

Dad owned his own horse- a beautiful black stallion.  He adored that horse, talked about it with wistful longing in his eyes.  That horse loved to haul logs he said.  "He  worked tirelessly at it because he knew I loved him and would treat him right,"  he said.  I often asked him when we would move back onto a farm.  I think I finally stopped asking by the time I was 14 or so, because I knew it wouldn't happen.  But the dream was alive in me more than I ever realized at the time. 

My father used to brag about the fact that for several years after he and my mother moved to the farm, there was no running water (other than down the hill from a bucket in the well), and no electricity.  I think it was my mother who pushed for both.  She didn't care for lugging water up the hill to do laundry I suppose.  But that was a small negotiation in the grand scheme of things. 

My older brother and sister were born, and my father found that he couldn't keep up the taxes on the land without working off the farm.  So he became a foreman at a papermill, and then hurt his back in the process, disabling him to a great extent from the work of the farm.  The sad irony was that the injury was caused by the very work that was supposed to allow him to stay on the farm to the point that it would be self-sufficient.   Many years later, after several surgeries,  and nearly losing mom to a life threatening sickness, he burned the barn and sold off much of the land.  (The barn was nearly falling down, but mom would have none of it, so he did it while she was recovering in the hospital).  I think his intent was to rebuild.

I was 2 years old, and had had my share of death defying experiences and surgeries to repair a birth defect.  I hate to think of it, but I think that was about the end of my father's dream.  He nearly had lost my mother and was faced with signing my older brother and sister over to be wards of the state, and now there were 3 more mouths to feed and he was still physically too lame to run the farm.  So he sold it. 

My sister talks nostalgically of the farm and how nice it was to be lost in the woods with my brother, but not really lost.  She spent the first 10 years of her life on the farm- I hardly remember it, but I long for it just the same- I think that she feels satisfied in with her experience, but  I long to fulfill my father's dream. 

We travelled the country- 6 times from one end to the other- my father's health and wellbeing were the primary focus.  He was bound to be his own boss, no matter how little it paid, and he detested any kind of government support or medling, but there were times that the greenstamps kept us from going hungry.  I believe those were the most excruciating times for him- not so much the physical pain. 

Then, my mother went to work.  I don't think I  minded being in school until I knew that Mom would not be home to make sure we made it home, or that my brother wouldn't pick on me knowing he could because he was older.  I was not the type of child that made friends easily- or at least kept them easily.  I was a dreamer and an idealist early on, and pretty oblivious to the social nuances.  I wasn't prim and proper- I was barefoot and untameable, at least until I became a teenager and realized what kind of social environment I was really in at school, a place where I knew I would never fit it, and knowing that my parent's were just trying to sketch out a decent life for us. 

We had our share of family dysfunction, much of which was directly associated with the sense of loss and regret over the years of giving up the farm, though it seemed at the time there was no option.  There was still some kind of need to make sense of it, to find some way to deal with the anger and grieving that just didn't want to go away, because of a life and quality of living that was not lost, but stolen.

My father and I had our ups and downs- the downs mainly associated with a strained relationship between him and my mother.  But we had one thing in common that no one else could share as deeply as we did- we both had the same longing to be free and uncumbered, no obligations to anyone but ourselves and our loved ones.  During those times of tension and stress in our relationship, the garden was the buffer zone.  He stopped growing the garden about a year before I graduated.  My parents were really struggling in their marriage and trying to manage my brothers' mishief.  In the end, college was my escape. 

I've been married now for 10 years to a wonderful man, and we have a 5 1/2 year old son.  My father never had the opportunity to meet him- he died 6 months before our son was born.  I remember saying to myself just before he died that perhaps it won't be such a loss to my son- afterall, he never knew him.  And recalling the struggles we had, I wondered what kind of meaningful relationship they would have anyway. 

Now that our son is older, I so earnestly find myself endeavoring to pass along the same values and pioneer/independent spirit that I so implicitely seemed to inherit.  I feel more deliberate in my efforts with my son than my father was with me, but maybe it just came naturally to him because he had experienced it on a deeper level.  He worked and sweated for it.  Had it in the tip of his fingers and watched it slip away.  I was the benefactor.  I had no way of appreciating what he had tried to do for us until my own son was born, and that dream of moving back onto the farm began to stir up inside of me again, for the sake of my own child.  I guess once farming gets into your blood, there's no way to get it out.  My great grandmother raised her family of 10, plus 3 grandchildren on a dairy farm.  I wish I had known her.

My husband is a fisherman and boatbuilder.  He teases me at times about my vision for a farm because he doesn't see that we'll ever leave where we are.  To be a fisherman, you don't need land, you need oceanwater, and there ain't much growing land on the rock coast of Maine.  Even if we could find a slice, it would come at a heavy price.  So I have to scale back my dream a bit to fit our life together- otherwise, I would go crazy in my dreams and our marriage would be like a 2 headed monster. Still, I think we could swing a parcel of 5 acres or so.  That's all you really need to be a "real" homesteader right?  Maybe not even that.

Well, so far, we're alright.  Our land isn't fit to farm, but we can grow our summer vegetables in raised beds.  I've thought about working with a co-op farm in exchange for shared  bounty.  It's a real possibility worth looking into. I have my own seasonal cottage rental business, and I help my husband with lobstering in whatever way I can- repairing traps here and there, painting buoys, odd jobs on the boat here and there, and fostering the father son bond whenever I can.   This year I'll be spending a good amount of time in the bait shed getting his bags ready for the next haul.   Wayne says, we may not have a farm, but we're farming the sea.  He understands my dream.  We just don't have the room to mix the smell of pigs and bait on the same property :)  Especially with summer guests right next door. 

Well, my dream of homesteading doesn't have to be a distant one, just a bit modified.  I know what I am able to do, what my level of self-sufficiency is.  I know where I want to be.  I want my life to be simple and unencumbered by the trappings and materialism of this world.  I gave up a teaching career to spare my son the mundanity and social paria of institututional education.  I am eating less meat and more beans because it's healthier and cheaper, and better for the environment (though I have to admit that I would struggle as a vegetarian).  I buy my clothing at used clothing stores when I can.  We homeschool our son.  We give up some of the "extras" that the world thinks are necessary.  I consolidate my errands to save gas in my gas guzzling car (Yes, we actually need a larger vehicle for our business- sorry).  I bake in bulk and freeze meals.  I patch and repatch my clothing.  I regularly donate and pare down my "stuff".  I want to be able to live more and more at ease with less and less.  I want to live in such a way that a fire, or an ice storm, or a national recession or energy crisis could take place and I wouldn't skip a beat.  I have a way to go, but I know where I am heading.   By the grace of God, I will be able to say as the apostle Paul did, "I have learned that in whatsoever state that I am, therewith to be content".