Sometimes you realize the direction you're trying to go isn't really the direction you're supposed to go in. You know the feeling right? When you're struggling upstream or feeling abraded a bit? I realize that's been happening to me lately. I've been really stuck on the how but not really feeling it.
I've just had a sense of ease as I realized my focus needs to be more on the why than the how. So rather than how to grow tomatoes, how to trim hooves, how to can, it's more the why. I like the doing and I think when you try to philosophize about something like lifestyle from arm's length, I think it falls flat. You might have some evidence to the contrary but do you think the words of Wendell Berry would resonate so were he not out living on the land and with the land? Imagine Wildwood, had Roger Deakin just sat in an office and imagined, never having rambled or lived outdoors? Consider Anne LaBastille, had she stayed in some safe, suburban existence; would we have had Woodswoman? In all its rawness and grit? Now it's not that I'm comparing myself to such illustrious folks, except maybe by way of my aspirations, but I realize that a collection of how to videos and posts just doesn't grab me. It must be Spring. Change is the air. I'll be heading out to clean the greenhouse which has functionally been a litter box this winter - as it turns out. Now that's a how to video I should share. That's from yesterday. There's even more this morning but it's too dark for it to be really visible so far. I do mostly try to just accept winter, really I do, but when I'm looking back through the farm journal and at this point last year my greenhouse was in full swing and the garden had plenty of hardy greens growing in it.... it's a bit of torture really. So what can you do when the weather has you foiled? Well, we've been having weather extremes up here on both ends of the spectrum. And truly, I find the cold weather ones a little easier to manage. After all, when the weather is cold, there's knitting and textile things to be done, or you can sit curled up on the couch in your favourite sweater, a mug of tea to hand and a good book (or reading for homework). In the summer you still can't go for a walk in the sweltering heat and when it cools off, the mosquitoes come out to torture you. There's no cozying up with a good book and a mug of tea in your favourite sweater. And I certainly don't like to play with wool during the summer. So I'll adopt a Nordic attitude. If it works for them, in a place where winter is much longer, much darker, and much more intense than ours, it's got to have some merit. I'll have gratitude for all of my comforts, the fact that my house is warm thanks to the hard work of my family last year. I have gratitude that we have enough to eat and enough for our animals, that for my very long commute each week I have an understanding supervisor who doesn't want me to drive in extreme conditions. I enjoy my tea and dream of spring. And as I look out of the window, I appreciate the beauty of the snow covered trees, the flakes falling as the light comes up, and I remember, in no time we'll be at the season of mud which is slightly better for growing things (ok, it's a lot better) but treacherous and comes with it's own challenges. So for now, I'll grab my tea and my homework, and sit by the fire and read. This is, quite possibly, one of the most beautiful (though I can't yet articulate why) articles I've read... ever, really. Perhaps it's because it's so poignant and so accurate? Perhaps it's just the beauty of this old, gentle way of life. And no, I'm not romanticizing. I've raised sheep, I know there's plenty of not gentle woven into the raising of any animals. I also know that a smart shepherd is mostly gentle when working with their animals or it just doesn't go well.
Anyway, I would urge you to read it. If you don't, just consider this: "The future we have been sold doesn’t work. Applying the principles of the factory floor to the natural world just doesn’t work. Farming is more than a business. Food is more than a commodity. Land is more than a mineral resource." Click on the excerpt to get to the full article. Well, it's that time of year again. You know the time, when we're racing towards the Winter Solstice and the mornings are getting darker and darker. Today there was a little skiff of snow making me grateful I didn't have my 90 minute (each way) commute to work. These are the days when it just seems cold out; even just looking outside from a toasty house elicits a little shiver. When there's that pearlescent quality to the sky, I find myself unstinting on extra oats for the goats and extra feed for the poultry. They're adjusting to the cold, though I notice they find it easier than the wet we've had for weeks and weeks. I find myself in a minority at this time of year. I love the stillness of the dark mornings, sitting with a cup of tea and a book, maybe while some yarn scours, other is in a warming dye pot, and still more is in a warming mordant bath. The dogs sit at my feet chewing their bones. The world is quiet and peaceful. There's space to think and just feel and consider what will come in the hours and days ahead.
As I see it, there's no stopping it. There aren't enough bright hours in the day to daylight savings time winter away. Better to just enjoy it, be grateful that you are warm and cozy, help others who aren't; pause, have a cup of tea and revel in the stillness. So, it’s the next day. Trump is the President-elect and the Republicans run everything, or soon will. I’ve thought about this all night, what’s it going to mean and where it’s going to lead us. No, I’m not an American (though I am married to one) and no, I’m not planning to move the USA. And at the end of the day, while it’s important to consider where this could go, I think it’s far more important to reflect on how we got here.
Without even getting into the whole Bernie/Hillary issue, let’s look at why people would flock to someone who built a campaign on division. The short version is: there was already so much division in the USA. This campaign didn’t cause it. It might not have helped but it can’t be called the cause. No one, once the primaries were over, was building bridges in this campaign except Trump. He reached out to the people who felt that the system didn’t represent them, he tapped into a whole cadre of voters who had never felt enfranchised, and who appreciated is approach. Whether or not what he said was factual, his approach resonated with a huge percentage of voters in key states. These were people who have been sold on the American dream but have never had it come true for them. Trump was a representation of that dream and promised them it wasn’t out of reach anymore. These were people who have felt marginalized (whether or not any of us agree, it’s where they felt they were) and finally, someone was speaking to them, hearing them, acknowledging them. And what did we do? We mocked them. We belittled them. We called them uneducated and ignorant. We held ourselves with the exact superiority that drove them out of the electoral process to begin with and we contributed heavily to the cracks that the Republican campaign was only too happy to cash in on. So to my mind, this isn’t the time for more division and more hatred. This isn’t the time to be bullying our fellow humans, complaining that they did this or that (third party voters, Trump supporters, whatever). This is the time to come together, to put down the torches, to put away the anger and the hate. Sure there’s fear but I can assure you, fighting your way through doesn’t make it go away, it just makes the darkness behind the fear grow teeth. I’m going to suggest something I never ever would have thought in a million years I’d say. Learn from the Trump campaign. Instead of continuing to shunt those folks off to the side, learn from this campaign and reach out. I think now is the time to copy the model interfaith organizations have set forth - we don’t have to share the same dogma to acknowledge our shared humanness. Mobilize, listen, build bridges, create closeness. Invite people to the table. In these times I consider my farming life - we grow the best crops and plants out of the most disgusting muck. Let’s take the mess and recycle it into something that’s beautiful and nourishing. So, I think we've talked about this before but it bears repeating, to my mind. You know how sometimes you read a blog, scroll through an Instagram feed, catch up with someone on facebook, and think "what the hell is wrong with me? I can't get half that done?" Or, "what the hell is wrong with me, I can't save/start a business/whatever" or "there's no way I can afford that/get all that done". I'm posting about this after a message I received. It was a heartfelt "please tell me your secret, I want to be farming and just can't make a go of it" kind of plea. Broke my heart a little bit because it was yet another reminder of how much social media skews our perspective of other's lives and from there, ourselves, if we let it. So let me tell you about my crazy life right now so if yours is crazy, or you can't figure out how to live off your 2 acres and ten mini goats, you won'y think something is wrong with you. First of all, we live in ten acres of forest. Love it. It's beautiful and private and restful and restorative and gives us lovely firewood to heat our home. It's also impossible to garden and live with sheep here because: trees. Why not cut them down? (I have actually been asked that). So, while we do have that to contend with dense forest (and yes, we did clear for the house and some garden) we have clay soil which is a treat. I know you don't usually read that but clay is the most mineral rich and, I have livestock with which to amend it so... I'm thrilled. I have a friend who was gardening on what seemed to be the most ideal place - open, flat, sunny, lots of water, soil looked gorgeous. But there was a high proportion of sand in it so when we had drought, she was watering multiple times per day. Yes, she had great produce but as she said "at what cost?" And they lived mostly off of what she grew so... they ended up selling and moving to somewhere more garden friendly. So, speaking of gardens... That is the unmitigated disaster that is my garden. I've convinced myself that leaving the tomatoes to fester might result in some shoots this spring (though it's rarely worked that way). And yes, there is row cover strewn about. We've had so much rain it was causing more harm than good to the plants so I threw it off and just left it there because:no time. Hopefully today I can get it cleaned up but maybe and maybe not. So, why no time? Well, I'm currently working three jobs - one of which has a 90 min commute each way. I won't be doing this over the long term and have given notice at one but yes, three. Am rebooting a small business, have the farm, this little guy: And of course, family and friends. On top of it, J is in a similar place with all of his commitments. And, I have a goat house and chicken coop in desperate need of cleaning, need to get more hay, and straw, and so on. Oh and garlic to plant and autumn seedlings to transplant. Now this is a big push for this month and isn't going to last but it's a true snapshot and hopefully, an accurate accounting so if your life is feeling a bit crazy or you're just questioning why you can't x, y, or z based on someone's Instagram feed - remember it's just the snapshot they're sharing with you. Many of us share about 1% of our life, right? So set realistic goals and work steadily towards them. That's all you can do. I had such great intentions of writing something pithy about the value of our work and being mindful of that on Labour Day. One of the things that's odd to me is that we're at a time when days like Labour Day are important because for many, they're a day off work, not because of what they represent. For me, the most appropriate way to spend Labour Day is working for myself. So it was a canning and planning day. Fortunately, I also have a friend with a birthday so we had supper with good friends, which was lovely. I came home, dealt with a varmint (more on that later), and baked like a mad woman. I figured since this is the first busy week as we all get our wits about us, I should get some baking in. For us, school starts the day after Labour Day and ironically, this is one of the busiest weeks I've had for a long time. I'd call that one a planning fail but it's all towards an important end goal. So, I went from garden leftovers: to a delicious chutney: And made sure broody hens had enough to eat. Spun a lot because: projects. And yes, it's overspun but it's going to be plied so that's no biggie. And during it all, I managed to participate in the conversations around #fairfiberwage. Don't know what's going on there? Let me share some links: From Laura Fry, Abby Franquemont, Mary Beth Temple, Andrea Longo, Miriam Felton, and a bunch of great conversations. Seemed pretty fitting on Labour Day. Whatever you were out there doing, I hope it was good labour. You know how it is for me. Wendell. Berry. This happens pretty much any time I hear him speak or read something of his. Swoon city.
Here's some more. So, when you take a step back in your job, you take a lesser job for a cut in pay and a cut in stress, you scale back your week, you move into a smaller, cheaper house, you do something that reduces money and stress, that's sanity money. I recently not only gave notice in my Supervisor position, I've gone back to an old job that I love. It's a job that I rock, one with flexible hours and a massive pay cut. Yep, you read that right. Pay. Cut. Both lower wage and fewer hours. I was offered another job with a bigger wage and the potential for way more hours and tonight, after the poor Woodsman had to hear it all, we opted for the sanity money. The sanity money is enough to pay the bills - just. The reduction in stress is a major bonus, both because I can do this job in my sleep and still love it and because I'm outside of the other management stressors that were driving me nuts! I have some significant health stuff that definitely flares up with with stress. And frankly, the stress has been consuming a lot of my thought and creative energy - and exhausting the Woodsman and Teen who aren't big fans of seeing me stressed. And usually, I deal well with stress but caseload stress isn't the same as this stress. So, I took the advice that I often dispense - consider my priorities and move in that direction. So sanity money it is. It will let me enjoy most days at work, and still be able to be home with goats and chickens and the garden, not to mention the fam. And explore all of my creative ideas. Will there be challenges? Sure. I have the debt from my store to pay off and a grocery bill that needs to be cut in half. But are those challenges worth it? You bet. Nope, I'm not Moneyless though I feel myself pulled in a less money direction. Especially after the Teen and I kicked off the New Year by watching this: The Teen may have been gaming and had the youtube playing proximally, rather than specifically watching however, he absorbed enough of it to facilitate an interesting conversation about Mark Boyle's message and his mission. Thanks to google and a bit of research, we also had a great conversation about his background (business, for those naysayers in the audience). I love the message he's sharing - highlighting the fact that we'd likely waste less food if we grew our own and the true cost of cheap clothes. And the man can talk the business talk, which I think is good. It shouldn't be needed but truthfully, it is. Someone with a degree in business is much more likely to be listened to - and more difficult to discredit with jargon, and 'insider knowledge' - when the person has formal training but still rejected that path. If I'm such a supporter, why not go moneyless myself? It's a question I've explored a lot, and need to explore some more. Truth be told, it tempts me often. If we pulled up stakes, built a towable tiny house, and bought a truck to tow it, we could be debt free and that, my friends, is tempting. But, it's not wholly how I want to live. To sum up quickly, it's currently -15*C (5*F for those of you who live with fahrenheit) and almost knee deep snow. So, foraging here is limited, and in a tiny house, storage is limited as well. So, I would need some way to get food during the winter and I'm not a fan of relying on purchasing food for my way of life. There is the argument in favour of moving somewhere that year 'round food production/foraging is an option however, an equally strong option (or perhaps stronger) is that to pull up stakes would mean leaving the community we have here. I actually don't believe there is a realistic way to be an island, as it were. I think self sufficiency exists best in the context of community. I'm not an intentional community type, neither do I need people around me all of the time; in fact, I've been at home since Boxing Day with little contact with the outside world, including my friends and am quite content. But I also have no illusions that doing it all by myself all of the time just isn't realistic. I don't think that a single person or even a small family can grow all of their own food, make their own clothes, etc. Even Pa and Ma Ingalls couldn't pull it off in Little House. They did most of it but they still needed to trade for some things and that was when you could. I don't think my local grocery store would let me trade my egg abundance for for sugar though once upon a time, you could do exactly that. I also feel, very acutely, the call to land stewardship. In my region huge tracts of forest and farmland are being "developed". First, everything marketable is taken off them - timber, top soil, whatever. And then big houses, or huge houses, are built upon the remains. If we were to sell, the acres of trees and pasture we're protecting by doing almost nothing* would no longer be protected and at the mercy of "development". The cost of that protection is an exchange of cash until we own it outright (and then a bit more cash annually for taxes). There is something in that for me. Now, if there was a critical mass of people who share Mark's views it would be different as well. My experiences with intentional communities hasn't been all that positive. In the circumstances I've observed, the intentions ended up miles from the end result. The Woodsman has seen other examples - most notably on when touring (musically) a few years ago. They were more urban examples however, and the issues of land use and conversation weren't prevalent the way they are in forested areas. If we were to live in an urban area, I would look for a community like that - one with a shared kitchen and a community but individual space and privacy as well. My strongly developed I (introvert) just can't work well in a busy, populated, heavy social obligation community. I need quiet and space. Now on that note, watch the video while I head back out into the gorgeous wilderness with my dog. |
AuthorI'm a 40-something writer and smallholder living in the wilds of BC with my family, our small herd of Nigerian Dwarf Goats, chickens, ducks, dogs, and cats. Archives
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