March 18..at. this moment...

The temperature is 78 degrees! In just a day the snow has retreated from vast portions of the garden. There are day lily sprouts along the foundation of the house. Red buds of rhubarb are poking out of the ground, pushing its way past last years detritus. John Denver is singing in his lovely tenor,"Sunshine on My Shoulders."

Evan is sporting a new pair of cutoffs. Sap fire is burning. Just as I thought we are getting a good run of sap today. So we will be boiling down for the next few days.

It is time to plant in the cold frame. But for today my chores are nearly done. Upstairs entryway is tidied. The Bread is on its second rise. Pepper and hollyhock seeds are started. After Mark returns from his run, I will go for a long walk and then I take my turn at the sap fire for a bit...maybe with some knitting needles.

Yay, spring!

Spring Cleaning

Yesterday was a throw the windows open sorta day. It was sunny and warm. A little guy in our home spent most of the day outside building gnome homes, playing in the mud and aspiring to make progress with his scooter on the still soggy ground. At one point he had short sleeves on. His cheeks revealed a bit of pink left over from all that sunshine.

Mark started his day by hanging up a new clothesline for me. The old one fell victim to snow fallen off our roof this past winter. He then hung up the two loads of laundry. How great is it to have your laundry dry so quickly, in a day; instead of over several days , as it is done in the winter? Pretty awesome.

The sap was running yesterday. We may get another run today. It was pretty crispy last night on this little hill we have here. This has saved us. Because of the warm weather we have had this past month or so the sap has been slow to run. So far we have put up just over a gallon. Last year we put up 4 gallons. Mark and Tristan spent a better part of the day boiling sap down. We got over 30 gallons collected late yesterday so hopefully we'll get close to 3 gallons when all is said and done.

What did I do? Spring cleaning. Seems a bit contrary to clean house when it is mud season. I am not usually one to do spring cleaning. I save the big cleaning for winter but we have been painting Evan's room and the house has been discombobulated. After we put Evan's room back in order there was a leftover piece of furniture that I had planned to put in the cold room. Isn't it always the way ? Like dominoes one project leads to another until all all the pieces lay down in a nice neat line. Anyway, the cold room got a really good clean out. There were boxes and boxes of canning jars. They have been rinsed out and put on the shelves in the empty spaces. All ready for canning season. Mark brews his own beer. He had too many beer bottles stashed away for the eventual day when he might fill them all up. We negotiated an amount that would work for both of us without being left on the floor. There were a couple of science experiments in there that have met the compost pile. Lets just say this was my room of shame. Now it is efficient, spacious and shameless. Nothing like a clean conscience.

Meanwhile, there is still that piece of furniture still looking for a home. It might just have to find a home in someone else's home. Today I plan to tackle the upstairs entryway. It is where all the winter gear is kept. With all the mud I do not think we will be using the snowshoes and cross country skis again this year. Our home is small and cozy and anything that is not being used can not sit around.

For now I will take this sunny warm weather and work indoors. Soon enough the garden will beckon me and any cleaning indoors will be simple; with a broom and mop. I have until the snow melts off the garden. Better get crackin'.

Dilemma

So I have a bit of a dilemma, that I thought you wise folks could help me out with.

We are in the midst of a redo on some parts of our home right now. I am painting Evan's room this week. It is a nice bright color. It is great to see a room change and also fulfill the vision you had for it. When it is done I will share some photos. But I am daydreaming about other rooms in the house right now.

So back to the dilemma.

My grandmother past away in 2004. My grandmother was a solid presence in my life as a child. My parents divorced when I was very young. My mom became bittered and hardened by the divorce. My grandmother was nurturing and a constant when I was growing up. My mom worked weekends and my brother and I would spend weekends with my grandparents. It was at her house that I learned to eat carrots out of the garden, pick the dead heads of the small row of marigolds that grew outside her door. I learned to push a push mower. She taught me to embroider, quilt, sew and crochet. She tried to teach me knitting but this skill wouldn't come to me until later in life. I remember standing at the counter as she made biscuits. I remember the smell of spaghetti sauce slow cooking on the stove for a Saturday night pasta feast.

She made me dolls. Raggedy Ann, Mary Poppins, and small sock dolls that still come out at Christmastime. She made me sweaters and mittens and hats. My home is graced with her essence; teacups, doilies crocheted by her, her teapot, pot holders, she is part of my home. I have a beautifully embroidered table cloth that she made that covers my table at the holidays. I have her cedar chest that she left to me; a nice piece of furniture. She told me that when I was young I would trace the lines in the wood with my fingers. I also have her dishes. A delicate china.

And thus my dilemma. In the process of my redo I am excited to brighten my kitchen with some paint. It is tongue and groove knotty pine. Some of it is water stained. I plan to paint it a very pale yellow with white trim. We have long term plans for the kitchen but for now this is what we plan to do.

My everyday dishes area a very sad assortment of mismatched bowls and plates. Their number has dwindled considerably since we've lived here. We have concrete floors and a slate sink and they are not kind to any thing that should fall on their surface. Can I tell you how many canning jars have met their demise to the sink? Many. Oh and I live with three people of the male persuasions who do not place the same value or care to the odd piece of pottery.

So my grandmother's dishes are brought out for special occasions, like the holidays, or entertaining. So this is what I am wondering...should I bring my grandmother's dishes out for every day or should I piece together a funky assortment of "vintage" dishes?

It is the nature of glass to break, this I know...So I could use your help...

Here comes the Sunflower...and a recipe.

Oh the beautiful Sunflower! Big and Bright. In the summer I love to watch the goldfinches swoop through the yard and land on the sunflowers. Bees convene on their big heads.

Why do I wax poetic about sunflowers in February? Well, as much as there are plenty of things about this season that keep me in the moment; long walks on cold days, chickadees calling from the boughs of the field pine in the yard. Sunflowers mean warmth. Sunflowers also mean food. Sunflower seeds are good for you. Last year I harvested the seeds from the sunflowers in our garden. I hung them up to dry for a few days in our shed. I reserved some of the hardiest looking seeds to plant again this year. I planted mammoth grey stripe. The rest were given to a small gerbil we call Munchy who resides in Evan's bedroom. This year I plan to plant quite a few more sunflowers. My hope is that we will be able to provide some of the food for the fowl we plan to bring to our homestead this year.

I don't have the technology to shuck every seed for our own food. I don't have a press for oil either. But I know that as a local food source for seed and oil that it will not be too hard to find soon. There are farms in the Northern Kingdom of Vermont that are experimenting with growing sunflowers. A few years back we were driving past beautiful fields of this workhorses of the flower world. Some of those farms are growing them for fuel for their farm. Last summer I met a woman who grows sunflowers for fuel and food right here in Maine. It is mostly for her own consumption. On ocassion I have also been able to purchase Maine grown sunflower oil.

We have been trying to find a substitute for peanut butter. We had been buying organic peanut butter. But it has just become too costly for our palette. We also would like to find something more local but until we do we have been making sunflower butter with the hope that someday soon we will be able to buy local sunflower seeds.

Sunflower Butter

All measurements are approximate.

A cup or so of sunflower seeds
A couple of tablespoons of sunflower oil
Salt to taste

Put sunflower seeds in a skillet and toast the seeds. Shake pan occasionally. When seeds begin to brown and make a popping sound, take them off the heat.

Grind seeds. I use a grain mill but a food processor or blender will work too. I have ground this find and roughly. It is a matter of preference.

I put all the seeds in a widemouth canning pint jar.

Add oil one tablespoon at a time. Stirring after each tablespoon until you have the consistency you would like. You may want a little more oil.

Add salt to taste.

Enjoy!

Early Spring

Our spring chores have begun early this year. It is still winter by the calendar but thelight has change, the days grow a little longer and it just feels like an early spring. A sign of the strange winter we have had here in Maine. Winter was late to arrive, barely sat down for a cuppa tea before it decided to leave.

Temperatures have been warm and the snow fall has been scant. It is always tough to admit that I might actually enjoy this season as it is. It sure has made our winter easier. We did not have to start our trek from the road to our house, about a 1/4 mile, until January. Last year we were trekking in in early December. We have used much less wood than last year. In general, the way of our life has been easier than last winter.

But there is always a flip side. The flip side is that mud season has arrived VERY early. For us this means that the road we live on has suffered that ravages of frost and thaw. It is all rutted up. The town posted the road a full month earlier than last year so that large trucks can not travel on the road. The early mud season could mean one of two things. Mud season could be short. Perhaps the road will dry early this year and the town will have it grated by the end of March. Or mud season will last a lot longer and we will be trekking in from the pavement, about 2 miles or so, for a lot longer than we had to last year.

The warmer weather has meant that we are tapping our trees for maple syrup earlier than ever before. Usually we tap our trees that last full weekend in February. Maine has a school vacation the week before. Mark is usually home so we take some time to organize our supplies and boiling operation before he goes back to work. With the warm days and cold nights we have been having we decided that perhaps the sap would be running already. We could have a short season and miss out on getting enough syrup to put up. Last year we put in 30 taps and we were able to get 4 gallons of syrup. It lasted until December. Last year was an unusually good year. Two weeks ago we put in 15 taps. The sap has really started to run this weekend so we will put 15 more in this week.

At the same time we start sugaring I also start pruning our apple trees. I am still learning how to take care of the orchard. Last year I only got four of the twelve trees pruned. Sugaring season was that crazy. After the pruning the trees put out a lot of apples last year. I was a bit timid in the pruning last year. A pruning class I took a couple of years ago suggested pruning 30% of a tree that has been abandoned. Last years trees lost 30% using only hand tools; loppers, hand pruners and a hand saw. This year those 4 trees will have the chain saw taken to them to open up the top of the tree. This will allow more airflow and sunlight to get into the interior of the tree. It will also make it easier to harvest apples that are not 50 feet in the air. Mark will help me with that part of the chore this week. In the meanwhile I prune the other trees with a little help from Evan and Cheddar dog. The snow on the ground is just high enough for Evan to climb into a tree or two. So the first day we were in the orchard pruning, Evan picked up small twigs that fell to the ground from pruning and brought them over to his tree to build a bird's nest. Cheddar dog offer his help as well by sneaking sticks to chew.

It always makes the chores of spring easier when you have help like this:)

A Poem

Small Worlds

These building block walls
built by small hands,
A temple to the imaginaltion,
sits forsaken on the livingroom floor.

That cat, queen of her own empire,
preens her lush coat,
just inches from the ruins.

With one paw she knocks,
down a wall,
before turning to scratch
a flea.

New Years Goals

This time of year begs for inner reflection for me. Perhaps it happens as a result of life slowing down to a pace that allows for some thinking. No more holiday rush. No significant outside work calling to me. Instead, I spend quiet mornings browsing through seed catalogs. I finish abandoned handwork. I take long brisk walks. I project a little further into the future but this is mearly dreaming not avoiding my present.

Inevitably, some familiar goals seem to call to me. It never fails that I commit to more exercise, better eating, better management of money. Big homesteading goals get pared down to realistic accomplishments once the convergence of time and money impose their realities to the dreams.

This year seems different somehow. We have settled into our community nicely. I have found a group of women to share time with. The kids are doing well in their own ways. We will have to adjust to Tristan not living with us any longer. Mark's career change will make some new demands on our family but in the long run it should be for the better. Because of this change the work we do in our home will take on a more important role in the maintenance of our repsonsibilities. We will have to provide more of our food. We will have to tighten up systems around the homestead to be more energy efficient. Not just because it is the right thing to do for the earth but also for our bottom line.

So it seems that compliling a long to-do list would be in order. I am sure that at some point this will be necessary. The only list I have been working on is a seed list. For now though I would just like to visualise what sort of life I would like to see us make real. This year I would love for a signifcant part of our debt to be paid off. I would love to have a beautiful productive garden that provides lots of good food for us. I would love for my children to be happy in what they do and who they are. I would love for Mark to be successful in what he wants to do. I would love to solidify a path for my own pursuits that will provide some modest income for my family while balancing my time to maintain these other goals.

These seem like lofty goals and I often struggle with the micro -management overtaking the implementation. So I have decided on a new approach for the new year. On January 1st I am going to just live the life I want. I will wake at 6am. Eat a healthy breakfast, find a way to get some morning exercise (perhaps dancing in the living room). I will tackle some procrastinated chore. I will conciously give love to my family. I will try to live the day with intention.

Happy New Year!

A rambling update...

So even though I have not been blogging here regularly I have been very busy on the homestead. Our computer is still on the fritz so it will be a while longer before I can be in this space on a regular basis. But while I have the time now I will let you know the many things we have been working on here.

Most recent and most exciting is the open house and lacto -fermenting workshop I participated in this past weekend at Koviashuvik Local Living school. It was a very inspiring weekend. The school itself is just a wonder; with an earth bermed root cellar and green house, amazing compost bins, awesome garden, solar dehydrator. I left the open house thinking that moving off grid does not have to be all that complicated if you just keep your systems simple. Food for thought. The class was great, in that, it answered some questions for me about long term storage of fermented veggies. The ease of this method of food preservation is going to find its way in to my food preservation regimen for the simplicity and low energy technique it provides. Lacto-fermented foods are also really good for you and do not rely on many outside imputs such as vinegar and sugar. Just salt and a few good sized jugs and I will be good to go.


This summer has given our family a good chance to relax after the last couple of busy summers. Each morning I go out to collect some wild foods, herbs from the garden and summer produce. The garden is not as bountiful as I hoped this year. I think it may be a matter of building up fertility. It is our first year in the space so it may be a matter of investing labor and good portions of compost. I just heard on the radio yesterday that Late Blight has appreared again this year so we will be keeping a close eye on our potatoes and tomatoes for any sign.I have hedged my bets with a CSA share this summer to make sure that we put up enough food so that we can cut our grocery bill in half by fall. We have ordered broiler chicks and they should be arriving soon. Our thinking is that we can grow them quickly and feed them with a lot of the by product from the garden.

Last week a friend invited a group of us over to make mozzarella cheese. We each brought our gallons of milk. Mine survived the the curdling but would not pull together. It was still good for putting on homemade pizza. Now that I have worked throught the process I plan to try again soon. I will use the recipe from "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver. This should save us a good amount of money. The cheese weighed nearly a pound and cost about 5.00 to make. Much cheaper than a pound of mozzarella at the supermarket and made from mostly local ingredients.

The cupboard shelves are filling up. I find myself with a good rhythm. Each morning I fill the dehydrator. There is plenty of chicken stock, jams and dried kale. I have begun planting my fall garden. There is more broccoli, chard, spinach, beets and carrots in the ground with more spaces to fill with spinach. My favorite new crop to grow are shallots. I love planting 10 seeds and getting 50 shallots in return. I can save some of these for planting next spring. Also the shallots last longer than keeping onions so will be the last onion we eat before spring onions are planted. A good crop for closing the loop.

Evan is 5 years old and we were on the fence about whether to homeschool him or not. We have decided to homeschool him and take advantage of music, art and gym at our local school while we get our feet under us.

Finally, the knitting needles took their summer hiatus during the height of gardening season but I have picked up the needles to finish a few projects. I have not forgotten about the Plant A row Challenge. I hope to be back on line by September to hear how everyone has done with their gardens. I hope you are all well.

Peace, Karin

Still among the bloggin' sorta

So, our hard drive on our laptop crashed which is why this space has been so silent. We are still trying to retrieve and recover. In the meantime, I have been very busy in the homestead. I hope to have and Independence Days Challenge update soon.

I don't delve into politics much on this blog. I know that I have readers with many different points of view here which is why I love that we can meet on common ground here; growing good food, living sustainalbly and trying to be self suffiecient is not a blue or red ideal. But I would like to share my simple observation abou the current debt limit craziness that is occuring in D. C.

Elected officials should do what they were elcted to do. GOVERN. That the fate of every American's livelyhood hangs on whether a few well paid ( over paid) politicians will compromise or not is utterly unnecessary and negligent on their part.

This being said, it is a good time to review areas in you home that ensure preparedness. Hurricane season is about to begin, if the debt limit is not raised the price of fuel will skyrocket, food prices will increase even more than they have. Are there projects that will increase energy efficiency in you home that will cushion any rises in fuel costs? Now would be the time to work on these.

I could just be hitting panic mode here. When I panic I plan...not a bad coping mechanism maybe. If they limit is not raised we will all know what hard times are. I hope someone (actually a few of those knuckleheads) find the courage to do...oh I don't know... their job.

The Soul of Craft

The days grow short. Outside chores still beckon but so do inside diversions. I will have to finalize the list of items that will make-up this year's handmade holidays. But in the meantime, materials need to be organized.

So I set to work, on a rainy day, on this seasonal chore. Knitting needles are scattered throughout the house. They do not always find there way into their needle case after use. I need to account for them so I can get some of my work done. I have a pile of kid craft supplies that has yet to find a permanent home since we moved. I have decided to put them on a shelf in the living room. But this shelf was the home to my knitting books and magazines, so they too will have to find a new home. A Halloween costume needs to be constructed but the bin of fabric stash was put in the crawl space behind the pile of fleece that still needs to be processed. Some of the washed fleece sits in a basket near my rocking chair and some of the carded fleece is in another basket. But the the pile of washed is still greater than the carded. I have big plans for this and have to make some more time for this. An accounting of yarn is on the to-do list in order to see if I can make some projects without buying materials. Money is tight but we still want to be giving.


The whole time I am gathering, sorting and setting right, my hands are laid upon gifts from my grandmother. It was she who passed on this crafting legacy to me. The needle case is made of blue felt and ribbon. It was filled with her double pointed knitting needles and it was given to me when she passed away. When I remove the binder of patterns off the shelf the small notebook of index cards, she used to keep patterns for basic mittens and hats in, falls to the floor. I am reminded of all those mittens she used to make for us as kids: the too brilliant red sweater she made for me when I was in highschool, the afghans that I put on our beds every fall. I remember sweet calico shorts and tops she made for me when I went to camp, as I try my hand at making Evan's clothes on my trusty treadle sewing machine.

She tried to teach me to knit when I was a child but without much success. But I did learn to crochet and embroider from her. I have memories of sitting at her sewing machine to make dolls clothes. She was never as fond of knitting as I am now. It was a utilitarian craft for her. But she did love to crochet. I am fortunate to have a crocheted doily she made grace my dresser.


My grandmother would share a story with me sometimes. Her mother walked into my grandmother's kitchen one day and admonished her for having a sink full of dirty dishes. My great- grandmother was the sort of housekeeper who ironed sheets. Instead of cleaning her kitchen my grandmother was sitting at her kitchen table knitting a pair of mittens. In response to her mother's lecture of good housekeeping my grandmother said,"It is more important that my children have mittens right now than clean dishes." Go Nana!

I am grateful to be able to use some of the same tools that she used. The silent magic of creating something with your own hands is a gift that I came to at a time in my life when I needed to learn how to be still. Now I can walk around my home and see rugs that warm my floors. My children walk out the door in wool caps I have made them. The essence of my love for my family is woven into the fabric of these garments. It says be warm, be safe.

Time, Time, Time.....

Our life, family life, couple life has been busy. But not in a good way. I think there is a "good busy" and a "bad busy". A "good busy" is filled with things you want to do. It is filled with time in the garden, time together as a family, time completing long dreamed of projects. A "good busy" moves your life forward, brings your family together, invests in projects or activities that make your life easier in some way.

A "bad busy" just leaves you feeling like you are on a treadmill; lots of action but not going anywhere. A "bad busy" leaves you feeling exhausted before you even begin the day. A "bad busy" makes those activities that you consider "good busy" overwhelming and not worth the time. A "bad busy" leaves you feeling stressed, impatient. A "bad busy" takes a toll on your relationships.

I think we found ourselves at this point recently. We moved to the new house this past summer without much time to settle before Mark had to start school. Tristan's life became busy too as he finishes his last year of homeschooling and prepares to embark on the next step of his life. Evan was just going along for the ride for a while but he also needed to connect with other kids in his new community. And me? I was busy just getting everyone where they needed to go and making sure they had something to eat.

This would be busy enough, but Mark's job has many more requirements of his time, outside of the regular school day. Mud Season and our road made life hard just getting in and out of the house; adding 20 minute or so to every trip we took. One car was out of commission for most of the winter; so we were a one car family. In order to make this work, I was in the car even more than I was before.

I would say we were burned out. Burned out on work, burned out on homesteading, burned out on each other. We were in a bad space. No doubt. This burn out began to really take a toll on our marriage and family life. We were all so busy that we stopped paying attention to the reasons why we decided on this lifestyle. We were so busy that we stopped being kind to each other. We were so busy that we could not see how each other were struggling with all the busy-ness. We were so busy that we weren't able to really take care of ourselves, individually; so how could we see support each other in their busy-ness.

This busy-ness is far from the simple life I hoped for. But its tough. Many of the things that made Mark's life busy were required of him for his job. Tristan has to do what he needs to do right now, so he can do what he wants to do in the future. Evan needs friends and time with kids. And Momma is the one with the flexibility in her schedule to help everyone else meet their needs.

There are no easy solutions to some of this. We had talked of getting rid of the sheep. But they are really old ewes whose fleece is not desirable, at their age, for anyone seeking a fiber flock. And we love the sheep. They provide good compost for the garden, mow the lawn for us and I do use their fiber. We could down-scale the garden but we already spent the money on the seed and it really does save a lot of money. Time=Money. So if we did not spend the time in the garden we would have to spend more time earning money to buy the food we would have grown. And besides these are the "good busy" things that we do.

Summer vacation starts soon. We have decided not to build a big barn but a smaller sheep shed and a chicken coop. We have decided to take time to things together as a family. There will be camping trips, time to visit with friends from away, bike rides and swimming. We will chop wood and grow a garden. We will take days where we will not, under any circumstance, get in a car.

For now, while the busy-ness remains a part of our lives we will try to be kind to one another.

On an early spring day...

I sit at the table on the front porch of my friend's home. This is truly the first spring like weather we have had for a while. For a little while my attention has been alternating between my knitting needles and tea and the small crab apple tree across the street. The tree is still heavy with last year's fruit, now shriveled.

Perched in the tree are cedar waxwings, newly arrived. They sit on the branches; arranged like new leaves of spring, and sing and eat fruit. These little birds congregate to rest from a long trip north.

My attention is back to my work in hand, knit, purl, purl.....thinking , not thinking, smelling the fresh air through the open window, watching a squirrel hang upside down on the lilac bush to raid my friend's bird feeder.

Thump!

I look up to see the small flock has taken flight in a startle. One member of their congregation not seeing the wall of the house next door. It lays on the neighbors lawn struggling.

I run across the street to check. It is still breathing. Its wings seem fine. It does not struggle as I try to handle it gently to see if perhaps it is just stunned and needs someone to watch over it until it regains its senses. I run back to the house to look up the phone number to the local Audobon Society, when I look up and notice that it has stopped moving.

Retuning to the bird I find it dead. I pick it up in gloved hands but I can still feel its warmth in my hand, its small body so light.

While this has all gone on the wind has changed direction, clouds have filled in the blue spaces.

Mucking About

I woke this morning to a small body snuggled up to me. His small hands search for warmth under my arms. From the the other room I hear Mark start his bath, I hear the dog's tags jingle as he wanders around the house trying to find a sunny spot on the floor to settle. Evan rouses a bit more, leaves the bed and returns with a book for me to read. I fumble for my glasses as I begin reading a story about John Henry. " he was a hard driving man".

Once my feet touch the floor the day begins. Just like that, I am thinking about what time we should leave the house, what items should come with us. How will I arrange the driving back and forth that has come to define these days in town. I try to think about what chores I can ask Tristan to do before he is gone for the day; try to convince a small person that he should leave the comfort of his pajamas; try to fit in that second cup of tea I know I will need to just get through this morning.

In the background of this scene is a pan of syrup on the stove "finishing". There are seedlings on the windowsill. Cat nip, feverfew, horehound have sprouted. A fresh crop of spider webs have sprouted in the far reaches. A collection of lady bugs, recent inhabitants of Evan's bug box, beetle around the interior surface. They look so busy, like they have important places to go. But really they are just wandering around in circles....

Breakfast is served, mud boots are donned, we take to the path that leads to our car. Evan grumpily adjusting to the fact that he will not be towed in the sled along the mud path up to the car.

We are still waiting for Spring. By the calendar spring began a while ago. The build up to this season is built on dashed expectations. Snow had so much romance when winter promised quiet snow bound days. At this time of year it is a cursed element. When I see water falling from the sky, I want it to be wet. I want it to wash away. I want it to cleanse the dirty crust-snow away. I want it to make mud. I want it to reveal grass and soil. Alas, I do not make the rain, I only shovel the snow.

These are my thoughts as I drive the long two miles down our dirt road to the pavement. Mud season takes on a whole new meaning when you live on a dirt road. It is not only something that resides on rubber boots, gets painted on your clean going-to-town pants; it is the last challenging remnant of winter.

I am nearly to the pavement. Along the edges of the road there are small avian bodies flitting from mud to bramble. For one moment I catch a glimpse of red breast. Spring may be a fickle temptress but she does give us signs of hope.

Are we there yet?

This is a question I have been asking myself this week. Life has been busy. Sometimes too busy. So when I log on to this blog and I see my little tag up above "in pursuit of a simple life" I really have to ask myself ...are we there yet? If pursuing a simple life is an active exercise, have I reached it yet?

This week did not feel very true to those words. Last week was busy but in a home bound way. Seeds were started. I started sewing a new pair of pj's for the little guy. Sap was running. We spent a good three days sharing shifts feeding the fire to boil down the sap. Last weekend we spent some time improving our system so that it was more efficient. More sap storage containers, better fire pit. The weather was supposed to be bad on Monday so I thought I would take a "day off". Ha! When I realized that I was going to have a busy week I decided to put the house in order, knowing full well that it would soon be disordered by our hectic schedule. Tuesday, I had to run into Augusta to the Registry of Motor Vehicles. Wednesday was a usual day in town for Tristan's Class and Evan's homeschooling gym time. Later in the day we met up with Mark to go to a school concert in the evening. Thursday I went to Mark's school to teach knitting and grocery shopping. Friday is Tristan's class, Evan's story time and laundry at the laundry mat. Today I am at the library writing this because I brought Tristan in for a metalsmithing lesson he has with a jeweler. This afternoon I will take my shift with the sugaring fire.

This is only half of the story.

The other half, my other half, worked all five days. He teaches guitar lessons on Tuesday and Wednesday. Wednesday he does not get home for dinner. Wednesday night he had a concert. Thursday there was another concert but usually he has a rehearsal for a men's chorus he has started at the highschool. He is not home for dinner on Thursdays either. Friday afternoon we began boiling sap down.

This just does not sound all that simple to me.

Some of this will become easier soon. Tristan is going for his drivers license and should have it by summer. The road will be dry soon and we will not have to give ourselves extra time to leave the house. Mark is working on hooking up the washing machine soon so I will no longer have to go the laundry mat. Mark found out this week that our other car; which we thought had met it's demise, may still have some life left in her. So we will have two cars again which will save me from driving Mark back and forth to work when I need a car.

But in the meanwhile this is what I have noticed. It seems uncomfortable to say. But when life gets this busy, those things that make up our homesteading life, begin to feel like burdens. Sugaring is one example. This year we put in 25 taps. More than in the past but not much more. We have so much more sap than we have had in years past; partly, because we tapped much more mature trees. There are days when we have exceeded our storage for the sap and I can see sap overflowing the buckets, literally. But I notice this overflow as I am walking past the trees on the way to the car to get somewhere. I think about all the waste. I begin to feel pressured to get a fire started, on a windy day, because this is the spare time we have to do this and there is about 80 gallons of sap sitting in reserve and the buckets on the trees need to be emptied again. But...I also think, gosh, if we can get 4 or more gallons of sap this year we will be saving ourselves almost 250 dollars. Maple syrup goes for about 65.00 a gallon. This is not chump change. It is truly a local sweetener. If money gets tighter then the syrup will truly be something we will be glad we did. We could realistically be self-sufficient for sweeteners this year. And isn't this the point of this lifestyle?

This is a wake up call to me, I think. I don't think, as a family, we have had a reckoning of what is really important to us. At least not for a while. The hamster wheel is getting a little squeaky these days. I think that maybe we need to sit down as a family and figure out how to streamline some things, restore some balance to some areas and learn to let somethings go.

When I began on this journey I was inspired to do so because my life had become insanely busy. I was a single mother working two jobs, taking college classes. Life put me squarely in a sitting position with a diagnosis of MS. At that time I was not necessarily thinking of homesteading but of simplifying life. I learned at that time to slow down and find pleasure in the small things: buds appearing in spring, the feel of a small body snuggled next to you as you read a picture book, the sound of sap dripping into a metal bucket. It is so easy to let the flow of life divert you from the course you want to take.

Perhaps the first step to take begins with a good deep breath. It is time to breathe.

On mud season...

I was downtown this morning, wearing only a sweater and feeling ....warm? The temperature on the clock read 59 glorious degrees.

Evan and I have had this ongoing discussion about the change of the seasons. He has been lamenting that the snow disappears in the spring and he does not want to see the snow disappear. I have been trying to convince him that each season offers some new pleasure. Winter is snow, Spring is planting, summer is swimming and bike riding, fall is apple picking and playing in big piles of leaves.

He is not quite convinced yet. However, today as he was tagging along with me, while we ran errands, he commented, " Today is a good day to play outside."

It is indeed.

In years past the notion of mud season carried this quaint impatience to see the ground dry so that work in the garden could begin. The switch from winter boots to mud boots seemed like this seasonal transition for my feet that might be shocked by wearing actual shoes too early in the season. Inevitably one pair of shoes might get a little slop on the sole, a seasonal christening of mud, as a rite of spring. This year mud season has taken on a new meaning as the 2 and 1/2miles to the pavement challenges the all-wheel drive of our low riding subaru. Later today, when I leave to pick up Mark, we will more than likely have to walk in from the end of the road as the warm weather has made our road nearly impassable.

This too shall pass. In a couple of weeks the frost will leave the ground, the town will rake the road and we will be driving all the way to our front door for the first time since last December.

For now I will relish the smell of fresh air as I open the windows for the first time this spring. I will mark the retreat of snow as bare patches of ground are revealed. I will toss aside my wool sweater and feel the warmth on my skin.

We interrupt this program....

I am posting an a repeat post today. We are inundated with maple sap today, apple trees need to be pruned and there are more seeds to be potted. Once I get some of this sap boiled down I will share with you our rather primitive sapping set up. Enjoy the day!

Traveling Through Space and Time

Some days I feel like a visitor from another planet.

I come to this strange place from the planet Frugalturnia. I traveled to this place in my second hand space suit found at the planet of Goodwill. My mode of transportation was in a spaceship pool and we all traveled in the slow lane. Our spaceship gets 40,ooo light years to one ounce of renewable shoe leather.

Where I come from we speak in a language of use it up, wear it out, make do or do without. It is a hard language to translate in this place of APR financing, plastic money and robotic hamsters.

My home planet is verdant with gardens and everyone has enough and no more than that. So you can imagine my surprise ,as I coasted over your planet, to see hunger, strife, great abundance and gluttony. This is not to say that we don't struggle with our own challenges. Sometimes we can't always have what we want, sometimes we have desires that can not be met immediately or if ever. But when we have this itch, we scratch it with a walk through our gardens or gather with friends and family and share a meal.

We have no gods such as your Credit Card , no temples such as your malls, no priests such as your Bankers. We have our spades and hoes, we have our rich soil, we have our family, we have music.

When I landed on this planet and shared stories of my home, I received many strange looks, like I had a third eye on my forehead. Few, tried to understand the allure of fresh food grown with your own hand, when there was so many boxes, and jars filled with GMO foods and this odd additive high fructose corn syrup. Some how the joy of making something with your own lands was lost in translation and folks thought I was asking where the nearest big box store was.

I am homesick and will wait at this spaceship stop for the next commuter rocket; grateful to be home in my house in the woods, where I will run straight to my garden and watch a ladybug climb a sunflower petal.

Radical Sharing

Mark and I celebrated the meeting of a goal yesterday. For about, just under a year we have been purchasing many of our hardware needs from The Farmington Farmers Union. It is a local hardware, farm supply store. Each time we made a purchase we diligently saved our receipts. Small purchases, like the denatured alcohol for a our little camp stove when we first moved in, and larger purchases, like the new pressure tank we needed back in October, accounted for some of the 500.00 we needed to spend in a year to purchase a share at the Farmers Union.

Our local Farmers Union is a non- profit cooperative. Each year the board of directors gets together to see how much money the Union made. Then they determine a percentage that each member will receive. Last year each member received a check that was 10% of the total amount of money they spent at the Union.

In this "capitalist" economic system the idea of a cooperative system seems like a pretty radical idea. Almost, dare I say, socialist. The very idea that members and not a lone entity should share in the profit sorta dispels the idea that a business is only in business for one reason , the bottom line. As a member if the company does not do well, my share will be less. So it serves my own interests, my own bottom line, to spend my dollars as the Farmer's Union than the local big box hardware store that "might" have a lower price.

My own bottom line may include the check that I will receive at the reckoning every year. But my bottom line also includes the social capital of a healthy downtown, the money spent staying in my own community. Because the Farmers Union is located downtown it contributes to the vitality of the downtown. Whereas the large retail hardware store is along a highway. Not an easy location to walk to if you only need a handful of nails. My bottom line includes the better quality of tools and service that I find at the Farmers Union.

We belong to another cooperative already. It is our credit union. I have belonged to buying clubs for food and yarn as well, these are other forms of coops. Some of these coops have storefronts and some extend no further than a friend's kitchen table and a catalog. But both weave a fabric of interdependence that creates community, financial savings and community resilience.

On the disabled list

I am sitting in a comfortable chair and enjoying a warm cuppa mint tea. I need a quiet moment with my feet up. Today is the first day that I have been out of the house this week and I am pooped.

Last week I slipped on the ice, landed on the edge of a step. The result was a pulled muscle in my lower back that pulled a small piece of bone from a lumbar vertebrae. Ouch.

Most of the inflammation of the area has diminished. For now it is just a matter of rest and healing. Unfortunately, we also had a big snow storm and the trail to the car is not yet packed down and easy to walk on. We drive a standard car and this is not very comfortable either. Sugaring season is starting slowly so I will not have to worry too much about hauling sap out of the woods. There is a teenager that will have to take on that job this year. A good month of so and my back should be ready for gardening season. But I am a pretty active person and anything that takes me off my feet makes me grumpy.

This makes me think about this lifestyle for the long term.

I know a woman who has lived off-grid for well over 30 years. She has a mile hike into her home. Each spring she plants her garden. Her husband is in his early 60's and he still puts up the many cords of wood they use every year for cooking and heating. Recently, one of their children gave them a cell phone, just in case. My friend has had some hip issues as a result of the hard physical work that her homesteading life has wrought on her body. A couple of years ago friends gathered to help her plant her garden. The garden is really their grocery store so not being able to plant a garden is not an option.

I have another friend whose parents have lived in the country since the early 70's. When I met her parents 20 years ago they planted a large garden every year. Her dad would ride his bike 20+ miles, up and down some very big hills, to run errands in the nearest large town. About 10 years ago they sold their old farm house and some land they owned. The built a new smaller house that would be easier to care for. It was just up the road from their old home. My friend just shared that her parents, now 70 and 82, had a hard winter. Plowing and snow removal are difficult. The isolation is hard too. Most of their kids live a fair distance away so it is hard for them to come over when the weather is bad and give their parents help. So they have decided that they need to find a different situation.

Old New England farmhouses, known as capes, were built with big houses, middle houses and small houses. As the aging parents grew older, they moved into the smaller parts of the home allowing the younger and growing family to live in the larger part of the home. This allowed the whole family to live and work the farm. Each member of the family was valued and their presence helped in the general economy of the home.

I will be back on my feet pretty soon and able to get to the work of our home again. But I better start thinking about an earth-bermed little house.

On a winter's day

I like the simplicity of walking. This time of year there are so many outdoor activities that require equipment. Snowshoes, cross-country skis, ice skates. Don't get me wrong. These are all great activities and we partake of them all.

But this winter we have had a lot of snow. Each snow requires the breaking of new trails: the trail to the compost bin, the trail to the sheep shed, the trail to the wood pile, the trail to the car. Each day after a snowstorm we have had just the most amazing sunny days; a respite between storms to move snow around, sweep laden roofs, load wood boxes and grab a few hours outside moving our bodies before the next low pressure system sweeps through and we find ourselves huddled by the fire.

As a family we will don our gear and take to the woods. Mark will break the new trail with his snow shoes, I follow behind and Evan tags along on little snowshoes. We will follow the prints of coyotes or snowshoe hare. We will stop and wait for the smallest set of feet to catch up. Towards the end of this journey we will coax, prod and bribe with hot chocolate the owner of those small feet. We arrive home and there are heaps of snow-wet clothes draped on furniture around the woodstove.

But sometimes, a momma just needs a brisk walk. A simple outing where all that is needed is a good pair of boots, a plowed road and a knitted wool cap. Our road is 2 and 1/2 miles to the pavement. It is a good road of dirt with plenty of little hills, wide open expanses to get lost in,remnants of the sheep farm that was part of much of the land I walk through. I find that during these walks that, even though I am alone with my own thoughts, I am not surrounded in silence. The trees just recently coated in a layer of ice, creak in the wind. A dog woofs a greeting as I walk by. A snow blower engine turns over a couple of times.

I am alone with my own thoughts. I clear away of the clutter of the days and gather together what is good, lose the negative thoughts that can creep in. Several weeks after my 44th birthday I am still trying to reconcile my perception of self, in my mind, with the person who faces me in the the mirror. More gray, more wrinkles. I come to realize that I do not have any regrets for decisions I have made in my life. It would be so easy to hold onto the bad choices as some sort of excuse for not moving in a different direction. If this makes sense. What I feel is that there are choices I can make now that will not be impeded by a fear of failure or rejection. Is this wisdom gained?

Anyway, I am at the pavement and turn towards home. The wind is a little brisker heading home. I put my hat on to keep my ears warm. The little hill is a little more challenging as I walk against the wind. I am daydreaming about the perfect grilled cheese sandwich I will make when I get home.Homemade bread, local mustard, cheddar cheese, onion and local spinach. I like the simplicity of a walk....

Winter Meditations

There is a slight etch of snow on the limbs of the trees surrounding our home. The winter light is diffused by an incoming storm. This is the calm.

A few weeks ago I commented to Mark that our winter had been mild. Warm sunny days. A little snow painted the landscape; more like water color than oil paint. Now the brush strokes of winter are bolder, colder. Winter can be hard. Snow banks get sculpted by snow plows. Little arms and legs turn to putty when introduced to snow pants and jackets. The slightest outside chore can seem overwhelming when the temperature reads minus 10.

Every season has its moments of quiet. Spring brings small moments of wonder as the first sprouts appear from the soil. Summer brings the quiet satisfaction at the end of a good day of work. Autumn brings grander moments of awe as the landscape bursts into the beauty of change and decay. And winter has its quiet hibernation where the silence is punctuated by the sounds of seed catalog pages turning, spoons scraping the bottom of soup bowls, the click of knitting needles.