Sunny, breezy, pleasant. Clean up debris behind chicken coop and spade some more back there, mostly breaking new sod. Also weed a good part of the strawberry patch; they should be waking up soon.
One year since I bought this place. How'm I doing? Heard from Lenore that Jack's friend Lincoln will be in the area to stand trial over an E.L.F. protest, and would like to stop out here. OK with me; I like company.
Warm, breezy and partly sunny as I wash and hang 3 loads of laundry. Then I resume moving the coop, using the big screw jack that was in Dad's garage.
More reflection as I work, continuing the thread of thoughts from Sunday on the dual goal here. First, the ideological motive: forge a counter-cultural alternative to the consumerist orgy of economic and political activity that comes with such a bloody price tag. Second, the pragmatic: find concrete ways to survive the seemingly inevitable collapse of the fragile and corrupt system.
I feel alone in this endeavor. Do other Christian and Pro-Life folks consider these things? Do they see the need for concrete actions besides the usual prayers and protests and letter writing? Where are they?
Way too soon to start any garden work, but mild enough weather to leave my house unheated for a few days, so I decided to visit Mom last Sunday. Drove to Mankato, did a little work around her house, Phyllis & Ray came over a couple times, some good family time. Mom told me to look in the garage and basement for any of Dad's construction and garden tools that I could use, so my little truck bed is packed with all those goodies as I drive back home today.
The ride back home becomes time for reflection. Almost a full year in my homestead. The cultural contrast is now apparent; the underlying assumptions as well as the concrete details of daily life are foreign to most folks.
I dearly love my family, but struggle to communicate the purpose and dream that drives me. What am I trying to do here? And why?
So I again rehearse the two-fold motive behind this little enterprise: to resist subsidizing the abortion holocaust via taxes, and to seek a positive antidote to the consumerism-fueled culture of death.
My thoughts also turn to the recent Y2K threat, and the more selfish and pragmatic motive: to survive the seemingly inevitable and imminent collapse. Y2K didn't materialize, but the house of cards is far from robust. The moral rottenness has led to general decay and instability in so many ways, it seems amazing that the system keeps working at all. Just one little crisis...
Well, all these reasons do coalesce nicely in the plain life. It's good to keep my focus. Just wish I could communicate these ideas better.
I arrive home OK. We got snow while I was gone, but it's now warm & sunny, spring-sloppy. The kids are out in the road. I walk down to get my mail and get into a snowball fight with them. The house is chilly, but didn't freeze. One tomato seedling has emerged, and a few onions.
Cloudy, threatening sky as I rise, and drive into town for various errands: try unsuccessfully to find a replacement part for my broken bottle jack, and can't even find a non-Chinese new jack to buy.
Well, OK, forget that for now, at least I can get bread, eggs, etc., and go to Mass with Lenore and get our ashes, thence to the dentist to have the throbbing tooth pulled, then more errands with Lenore and a simple meal together before driving back home at dusk.
All through the day, it has been raining steadily, probably over an inch, and turning colder. The forecast is for snow and a return to winter. The wind is howling outside as I turn in early tonight... a fittingly dreary beginning of Lent.
The ground is thawed on top, so I decide to try moving that chicken coop. Come-along, chain, bars, both vehicles as anchors... I succeed in moving the whole thing 3-4 feet to the north. At that rate, it will take a week to move it 20 feet! Well, I think now that it's broken loose and I have a method for doing it, a couple more days should suffice. Am removing the old rotten floor boards a few at a time, otherwise do not seem to be harming the structure.
Tooth still bothering me. Guess I should arrange to have it yanked out sometime - need to make a trip to town soon, anyway.
Warm & sunny this afternoon - into 50's maybe close to 60° - so I set the canner full of water out on the back steps, and the sun beating on the black enamel actually tempers the water quite nicely. I still make a small fire this evening (first since Wednesday) to heat the water further for my bath, and to warm my soup.
Leap century day - I'll have to reset my watch's date.
Very warm - close to 60°, sunny, breezy - so that I strip to my waist for awhile as I cut the trees felled yesterday, and become sluggish and sleepy. I open up the beehive, to see how they're doing - and they're not doing. No life whatsoever, just thousands of bees frozen in various positions, like so many wind-up toys that stopped wherever they were when their motors wound down. Did they starve? Too cold for too long? Did I do something wrong? Or fail to do something needed? Depressing.
No fire tonight. I cut up & cook 3 small pumpkins that are starting to spoil, leaving only 3 more left to process. Read my mail, including a note from Lenore telling me that the wood-fired boiler is still for sale.
As I hang the first load, I think I must have chosen the worst possible day to do laundry: chilly, cloudy, damp, calm, and even snowing slightly. But I just want clean sheets, with or without cooperative weather.
Now I'm hanging the last load, and a breeze has come up, it's getting warmer, the sun is about to appear... looks like I've lucked out, after all.
After lunch, I go back to the south woods to fell a few more trees for firewood. I come across a small ash that appears to be recently dead, still standing up, the wood still pretty sound. Or so it seems. A few blows with the ax, I hear a crack!, and look up reactively toward the sound, just in time to catch a falling branch squarely on my forehead. Ow! It bleeds pretty good, but otherwise I'm fine. Here's another lesson for this rookie to learn: be careful about dead tree branches. I just hope I don't bleed tonight on my clean bed linens.
Back at the house, I get the dried laundry in, and get the mail. A letter from my friend Jack and another from my niece. Some points are raised regarding consumerism, and some other moral and political issues; I would like to respond, after having digested and thought about it.
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