Do you remember the last time I tried to electrocute myself? Good, because I have another one to add to the list. (maybe I should start keeping count on the sidebar)
Yesterday the neighbor from across the way borrowed our trailer to go pick up a mower. When he gets back, he unloads it in our driveway. He needs to jump it and has a flat. As he used our equipment to charge it, I went to plug the compressor in. Nothing happened when I plugged it in. Usually it makes a horrible racket as it fills itself with air, this time silence. So I went over to it, leaned over the back side, and touched the metal backing with both hands. The charge went through me so hard it took a few moments to get my hands away from it.
I stood there in the drive staring at my throbbing hands. My neighbor looked at me oddly and asked if I was ok. I told him what happened. Now here would be where my husband would giggle, but the neighbor was concerned. He asked again if I was ok.
I replied,
I'm a girl, I want to cry.
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Saturday, June 14, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
ch..ch..ch...chaaaanges!
opps, sorry for that sharp note, I am not known for my singing abilities.
Laura H left me a comment yesterday about how she thinks the neighbors might think she is a little crazy. I got a giggle out of that one. No, I wasn't laughing at her, I was laughing with her, even if she isn't laughing now. When I first started this venture, I discovered that the neighbors liked to talk about us. First it was because of the biker status we have. People here were scared of us or more likely the misconceptions of the biker lifestyle. One of my neighbors confessed a few years later that when we moved in, and saw all those bikes in our driveway, she panicked and called her brother. Her brother informed her that having bikers in the neighborhood was a good thing, because their neighborhoods have low crime rates. ( this is because of that biker lifestyle misconception, and people tend to be frightened by them). This neighbor and I became good friends, until her husband died at 45 of lung cancer and her large property became too much for her to handle alone.
Shortly after we moved in, our neighbors to the east abruptly moved out, then the good neighbor to our west was gone. We had 2 abandon homes on either side of us. It was a little worrisome come high summer when prairie fire can rage out of control and here we had properties on either side not being maintained. In a strange way we felt like we had some how caused these people to leave. 3 years went by and we got a new neighbor to our east. He turned out to be a great guy and a good friend, but he still would look at us like we were slightly off. And it had been years since I had purple hair! Then the good neighbor returned, and we slowly got to know him. He thinks along the same lines we do.
We began homesteading while the properties were still empty. Our garden flourished and I was forced into learning how to can. Although hot, was actually simple. Next came the chickens, and that had us sticking out like a sore thumb. We were the only ones to have something besides horses here. The good neighbor had chickens before he mysteriously vanished, they disappeared as well. We were alone here with the chicken having. We gathered eggs and soon I was butchering my own. Then came the ducks and the turkey. We did this out in the open, where any of the neighbors could see. One of the families down the road no longer allows their child to play here.
We brought home the goats. This isn't a strange one for the neighbors. Many people have them as they keep the grass down around the lagoons. But bringing donkey home got a lot of attention. He made so much noise, that we had everyone talking about what it could be. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity here after my husband was laid off. We discovered people were watching and talking as we put up the fencing, got the tractor going and began a garden that people could actually see. Cars have slowed down and even have stopped to look at the huge greens that are popping up in my garden.
Along the way we have known that people gossip, that people whisper about us. A door to door sales man confirmed this a few years back, by telling me that the neighbors had told him all about us. Are we really that odd? Apparently so, at least back then. Our good neighbor got into the bee act with us, he too wants a cow as does our neighbor to the east. The neighbor across the road is gardening and setting up a huge chicken coop and wants me to teach her what I know. A neighbor down the way came over and took a tour of our 'stead. She was one of them that would look at me oddly whenever I talked about homesteading, but now she has a goat, and looking at chickens and a cow. She wants an orchard and is working on preserving her garden.
The normal world does indeed look at us like we are crazy, until they see that it actually works and we don't spend as much money as they do and get better quality things for all our work.
Yes, yes indeed I have been having many many bad days, that is the reason I brought it up yesterday. It wasn't just one funk day, it has been weeks of more then just heartache. I go through many funky days without tattling on myself, but once and awhile you have to voice your concerns to get it out, even if everyone finds you crazy for saying it. This lifestyle can really get to you. And it isn't always easy to suck it up and deal. There is support out there so you don't feel so lonely, but sometimes it takes years of neighbors talking about you and looking at you funny before that support arrives.
Thank you for your comments yesterday. I am grateful that you all care. And those that wish for me to suck it up, well I do more times then not, but for my blog to be true, to be able to talk about what it is like to live on a homestead I need to mention the good, the bad and the horrible.
Homesteaders are a crazy bunch, but what is happening in the world is what we have been training for (even if we never thought of it in those terms). I have turned the news off ( you need to go talk to my mother about what I was raised around, her and her weirdo college friends to understand this obsession, Marxism anyone? oh, I still love ya mom)
oh, and. . .
She isn't missing. She's at the farm right now. ~Ed Gein ~giggle~
Laura H left me a comment yesterday about how she thinks the neighbors might think she is a little crazy. I got a giggle out of that one. No, I wasn't laughing at her, I was laughing with her, even if she isn't laughing now. When I first started this venture, I discovered that the neighbors liked to talk about us. First it was because of the biker status we have. People here were scared of us or more likely the misconceptions of the biker lifestyle. One of my neighbors confessed a few years later that when we moved in, and saw all those bikes in our driveway, she panicked and called her brother. Her brother informed her that having bikers in the neighborhood was a good thing, because their neighborhoods have low crime rates. ( this is because of that biker lifestyle misconception, and people tend to be frightened by them). This neighbor and I became good friends, until her husband died at 45 of lung cancer and her large property became too much for her to handle alone.
Shortly after we moved in, our neighbors to the east abruptly moved out, then the good neighbor to our west was gone. We had 2 abandon homes on either side of us. It was a little worrisome come high summer when prairie fire can rage out of control and here we had properties on either side not being maintained. In a strange way we felt like we had some how caused these people to leave. 3 years went by and we got a new neighbor to our east. He turned out to be a great guy and a good friend, but he still would look at us like we were slightly off. And it had been years since I had purple hair! Then the good neighbor returned, and we slowly got to know him. He thinks along the same lines we do.
We began homesteading while the properties were still empty. Our garden flourished and I was forced into learning how to can. Although hot, was actually simple. Next came the chickens, and that had us sticking out like a sore thumb. We were the only ones to have something besides horses here. The good neighbor had chickens before he mysteriously vanished, they disappeared as well. We were alone here with the chicken having. We gathered eggs and soon I was butchering my own. Then came the ducks and the turkey. We did this out in the open, where any of the neighbors could see. One of the families down the road no longer allows their child to play here.
We brought home the goats. This isn't a strange one for the neighbors. Many people have them as they keep the grass down around the lagoons. But bringing donkey home got a lot of attention. He made so much noise, that we had everyone talking about what it could be. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity here after my husband was laid off. We discovered people were watching and talking as we put up the fencing, got the tractor going and began a garden that people could actually see. Cars have slowed down and even have stopped to look at the huge greens that are popping up in my garden.
Along the way we have known that people gossip, that people whisper about us. A door to door sales man confirmed this a few years back, by telling me that the neighbors had told him all about us. Are we really that odd? Apparently so, at least back then. Our good neighbor got into the bee act with us, he too wants a cow as does our neighbor to the east. The neighbor across the road is gardening and setting up a huge chicken coop and wants me to teach her what I know. A neighbor down the way came over and took a tour of our 'stead. She was one of them that would look at me oddly whenever I talked about homesteading, but now she has a goat, and looking at chickens and a cow. She wants an orchard and is working on preserving her garden.
The normal world does indeed look at us like we are crazy, until they see that it actually works and we don't spend as much money as they do and get better quality things for all our work.
Yes, yes indeed I have been having many many bad days, that is the reason I brought it up yesterday. It wasn't just one funk day, it has been weeks of more then just heartache. I go through many funky days without tattling on myself, but once and awhile you have to voice your concerns to get it out, even if everyone finds you crazy for saying it. This lifestyle can really get to you. And it isn't always easy to suck it up and deal. There is support out there so you don't feel so lonely, but sometimes it takes years of neighbors talking about you and looking at you funny before that support arrives.
Thank you for your comments yesterday. I am grateful that you all care. And those that wish for me to suck it up, well I do more times then not, but for my blog to be true, to be able to talk about what it is like to live on a homestead I need to mention the good, the bad and the horrible.
Homesteaders are a crazy bunch, but what is happening in the world is what we have been training for (even if we never thought of it in those terms). I have turned the news off ( you need to go talk to my mother about what I was raised around, her and her weirdo college friends to understand this obsession, Marxism anyone? oh, I still love ya mom)
oh, and. . .
She isn't missing. She's at the farm right now. ~Ed Gein ~giggle~
Thursday, June 12, 2008
My line, please?
It has been noted, that you have noticed.
I have not been my talkative self as of late. My topics have been mundane and my feeling subdued. I was told once, here on my blog, that I get too down, or I am too hard on myself. There are reasons I do this, besides that it is an ingrained part of my Psyche. ok, maybe not any rational reasons. And yes this is probably going to turn out to be a very personal and rambling post.
I know that it is not just homesteaders that end up feeling like this. Even before, when I had a "real" job, I would get into a strange little funk. But not this physical suffering that seems to have taken a few jabs at me. (my arms are starting to look like Popeye's) Getting up out of bed before the sun is becoming increasingly difficult. Television programs, such as several I have seen lately on Green Planet, are making me nauseous. And I am compulsively watching the national news channels, all of them. I am taking too many comments to heart, why meat eaters are evil ( I must say that being a prior vegan, that their arguments do not dissuade my opinion on the subject, but unfortunately their "bites" are getting to me)
Part of my issue, currently, is the stress and issues I have had with my first son. A dear friend of mine has had her twins preterm. There are days when being the supportive friend is overwhelmingly difficult and I do my best not to curl up in corner and cry.
Gina, from Cauldron ridge and I have been talking a little about our relative funkness (note I didn't say funkiness). And I have concluded that I have become frightened. Those that know me will find this a little odd. I am terrified that I am going to fail my children, that everything I have accomplished will be for naught. I am worried that someone will come in and take it all away from me. And I feel overwhelmingly possessive about the Homestead. This is one of the reason we have decided to rent it as a working homestead and all that it implies.
Grain has already shot up in price because of ethanol and gas. I am concerned that an over zealous neighbor will set my cows free.
I am concerned that the chicken thief will never be stopped.
I am concerned that a government agency might find fault with my lifestyle. ( even if I do my best to find out the laws of my area and conform to them)
I feel lost in what my next steps should be. There is no help once you have gotten past a certain point in this lifestyle. You just continue being/doing what you did before. It becomes stagnant and very few new joys seem to emerge, or even glimmer in the distance.
I am not giving up, but I don't know where to go.
I have not been my talkative self as of late. My topics have been mundane and my feeling subdued. I was told once, here on my blog, that I get too down, or I am too hard on myself. There are reasons I do this, besides that it is an ingrained part of my Psyche. ok, maybe not any rational reasons. And yes this is probably going to turn out to be a very personal and rambling post.
I know that it is not just homesteaders that end up feeling like this. Even before, when I had a "real" job, I would get into a strange little funk. But not this physical suffering that seems to have taken a few jabs at me. (my arms are starting to look like Popeye's) Getting up out of bed before the sun is becoming increasingly difficult. Television programs, such as several I have seen lately on Green Planet, are making me nauseous. And I am compulsively watching the national news channels, all of them. I am taking too many comments to heart, why meat eaters are evil ( I must say that being a prior vegan, that their arguments do not dissuade my opinion on the subject, but unfortunately their "bites" are getting to me)
Part of my issue, currently, is the stress and issues I have had with my first son. A dear friend of mine has had her twins preterm. There are days when being the supportive friend is overwhelmingly difficult and I do my best not to curl up in corner and cry.
Gina, from Cauldron ridge and I have been talking a little about our relative funkness (note I didn't say funkiness). And I have concluded that I have become frightened. Those that know me will find this a little odd. I am terrified that I am going to fail my children, that everything I have accomplished will be for naught. I am worried that someone will come in and take it all away from me. And I feel overwhelmingly possessive about the Homestead. This is one of the reason we have decided to rent it as a working homestead and all that it implies.
Grain has already shot up in price because of ethanol and gas. I am concerned that an over zealous neighbor will set my cows free.
I am concerned that the chicken thief will never be stopped.
I am concerned that a government agency might find fault with my lifestyle. ( even if I do my best to find out the laws of my area and conform to them)
I feel lost in what my next steps should be. There is no help once you have gotten past a certain point in this lifestyle. You just continue being/doing what you did before. It becomes stagnant and very few new joys seem to emerge, or even glimmer in the distance.
I am not giving up, but I don't know where to go.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
What will you refuse to give up to save Mother Earth?
Howling HIll got me in a corner. She wants to know how ticked off I can get people... umm I mean she wants me to fess up to what I will NOT give up to comply with green standards.
Books, there is no way I will give up my books. I know that reading them on the pc is so much more enviro friendly, but my desk top doesn't fit snugly on my char with me, and look at a screen for too long will set off a migraine. I can however read a book all day and late into the night without an issue.
My Truck. Unless someone is willing to give me a few work horses and a wagon, I need my truck to transport animals and feed as well as equipment. I don't like the price I have to pay for gas, but a truck out here is a necessary evil.
Red Meat. Sorry my vegan friends, but I will continue to eat meat. I was vegan for a very long time, and not only did my body say no more, but I stopped enjoying eating nothing but veggies. Still eat lots and lots of veggies, but a good local raised bloody steak is just the bees knees.
My motorcycle. It's old, (1949) leeks, doesn't comply with EPA standards, but she is mine and I love her for all her flaws. I am not very materialistic, but there is something about motorcycles that is hard not to love. She can get me where I need to go (as long as the speed limit isn't over 55mph) she can haul all the kids and groceries, well she will when she is no longer a basketcase.
and finally the last thing that I refuse to give up is. . . my gas/propane stove. Can't can on electric.
goody goody, it is confession time for;
The Back Forty
Muddy Clogs
Two Frog Home
Unusually Unusual Farm Chick
Books, there is no way I will give up my books. I know that reading them on the pc is so much more enviro friendly, but my desk top doesn't fit snugly on my char with me, and look at a screen for too long will set off a migraine. I can however read a book all day and late into the night without an issue.
My Truck. Unless someone is willing to give me a few work horses and a wagon, I need my truck to transport animals and feed as well as equipment. I don't like the price I have to pay for gas, but a truck out here is a necessary evil.
Red Meat. Sorry my vegan friends, but I will continue to eat meat. I was vegan for a very long time, and not only did my body say no more, but I stopped enjoying eating nothing but veggies. Still eat lots and lots of veggies, but a good local raised bloody steak is just the bees knees.
My motorcycle. It's old, (1949) leeks, doesn't comply with EPA standards, but she is mine and I love her for all her flaws. I am not very materialistic, but there is something about motorcycles that is hard not to love. She can get me where I need to go (as long as the speed limit isn't over 55mph) she can haul all the kids and groceries, well she will when she is no longer a basketcase.
and finally the last thing that I refuse to give up is. . . my gas/propane stove. Can't can on electric.
goody goody, it is confession time for;
The Back Forty
Muddy Clogs
Two Frog Home
Unusually Unusual Farm Chick
Funnel cake? No, Cloud.
I waved a friendly hello to the good neighbor as I stood to stretch my back. Hours and hours of weeding and garden tending with only one arm available for use, can cause tension in your back. My good neighbor waved back, I then pointed to the sky, he nodded his acknowledgment.
We both went back to our gardening endeavours, both of us taking quick glances up toward the sky. Soon the dogs began howling. I looked up, then stood up. Nervous I made my way to the fence line. "Are those tornado sirens?" I yelled across the acreage. "Sounds like." the good neighbor replied. Only recently has the state thought it necessary to place a siren out near the river, a good 5 miles from our home. If the wind blows just right, we can hear them too.
The good neighbor and I stood together at the fence, watching this lonely storm. "It's over Bentley." he told me. I agreed. "It has stalled though." Was my reply. Suddenly the wind shifted and it turned toward us. "what do you want to do?" He asked. "Well, I have kids, even if I want to stay out here and watch it for as long as possible. . ." He looked at me and replied "I think I want to finish this hole before a tornado gets me." We walked away, I going into the house to turn on the weather and get my camera, and the good neighbor off to dig his hole. Nothing on the news, but we know what we witness. You can not spend a lifetime in Kansas and not know what a funnel cloud looks like.
The storm moved on, nothing destructive touched the Earth.
We both went back to our gardening endeavours, both of us taking quick glances up toward the sky. Soon the dogs began howling. I looked up, then stood up. Nervous I made my way to the fence line. "Are those tornado sirens?" I yelled across the acreage. "Sounds like." the good neighbor replied. Only recently has the state thought it necessary to place a siren out near the river, a good 5 miles from our home. If the wind blows just right, we can hear them too.
The good neighbor and I stood together at the fence, watching this lonely storm. "It's over Bentley." he told me. I agreed. "It has stalled though." Was my reply. Suddenly the wind shifted and it turned toward us. "what do you want to do?" He asked. "Well, I have kids, even if I want to stay out here and watch it for as long as possible. . ." He looked at me and replied "I think I want to finish this hole before a tornado gets me." We walked away, I going into the house to turn on the weather and get my camera, and the good neighbor off to dig his hole. Nothing on the news, but we know what we witness. You can not spend a lifetime in Kansas and not know what a funnel cloud looks like.
The storm moved on, nothing destructive touched the Earth.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
I'm thinkin' . . . horror movie
Yesterday we planted children. We are hoping for a good harvest (think Motel Hell)
Actually we dug holes for the posts for our driveway gate. No gate yet, but the cat seems to enjoy the view.
Sunday evening we had a gorgeous storm move in,
a rainbow preceded it. ( I have no idea what that black spot in the corner of the pictures is.)
And I am officially hurt. My right hand is bandaged, my husband diagnosed me with slight tendinitis, and acute muscle trauma. Wonderful! I have it slightly immobile, but as I am severely right handed, I am having a hard time not using it.
I am going to upset a few of you. We decided to go with the name Urth, for our new calf. (pronounced Earth, like Urtha Kit) It is the name of the ancient goddess of Fate. We thought it fitting. Speaking of cows, my husband and I were milking Mama yesterday, things were going right along until she suddenly decided that she was done. She caught my husband by surprise and his head ended up penned between a cow and a bar. That will teach him to keep his head out of places where it doesn't belong. He woke with a headache and a sore neck.
Off to work in the garden.
( remember if you have a question or if you have a topic that you would like me to cover, email me or leave it in comments)
Actually we dug holes for the posts for our driveway gate. No gate yet, but the cat seems to enjoy the view.
Sunday evening we had a gorgeous storm move in,
a rainbow preceded it. ( I have no idea what that black spot in the corner of the pictures is.)
And I am officially hurt. My right hand is bandaged, my husband diagnosed me with slight tendinitis, and acute muscle trauma. Wonderful! I have it slightly immobile, but as I am severely right handed, I am having a hard time not using it.
I am going to upset a few of you. We decided to go with the name Urth, for our new calf. (pronounced Earth, like Urtha Kit) It is the name of the ancient goddess of Fate. We thought it fitting. Speaking of cows, my husband and I were milking Mama yesterday, things were going right along until she suddenly decided that she was done. She caught my husband by surprise and his head ended up penned between a cow and a bar. That will teach him to keep his head out of places where it doesn't belong. He woke with a headache and a sore neck.
Off to work in the garden.
( remember if you have a question or if you have a topic that you would like me to cover, email me or leave it in comments)
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