Four prisms hang in our living room window. Low early spring sunlight shines through them, spattering various surfaces red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet. Consider the mechanics of differing wavelengths producing something visible. It’s an amazing concept. Reflections off a surface traveling through the air, through the human lens, stimulating cone cells on the retina, and interpreted as color by the brain.
The first rainbow was a promise. God sent it after He flooded the world in judgement of sin. Only Noah and his family remained alive. The rainbow reminded them He would never flood the entire earth again in judgement. A comforting thought. Most of the time we don’t even think about that when we see a rainbow, just that it’s pretty and somewhat uncommon.
I visited a family friend, Lois, in Upper Black Eddy, Pennsylvania as a youngster. Her concrete block home had a wall of windows on one side, looking down a hill, over a row of trees, a river, then New Jersey. Angry cloud and rain showers moved across the ground in the distance across the river. Flashing lightening in a darkened field, with incongruous sunny patches on either side as far as you could see. When the storm finally moved on, the sky shone in it’s wake with an awesome double rainbow.
Rainbows follow after storms. You might get a smaller imitation in the mist of a sprinkler on a bright summer day, but the real deal comes after real rains. Just when we’ve gotten discouraged and wonder if there’s hope. That there are no promises left. It comes when we need it. If we just look for it.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
99 Frugalities
Since this is the “frugal” bohemian, and not some totally heady intellectual blog, I thought it right to write up things we have done and are doing to shave expenses. Most are small but over time really add up. Squeeze those Lincolns until they scream for mercy!
(Household management)
1 reuse aluminum foil
2 wash out and reuse Ziploc bags
3 tie up soap tidbits in the foot of an old nylon stocking and use them
4 make cleaning products from vinegar or ammonia
5 use less laundry detergent than called for, or make your own
6 fill dishpan with soapy dishwater and rinse in a dishpan of clear water
7 cut rectangles from cereal box liners and use as reusable/washable microwave spatter guards
8 re-purpose plastic milk jugs for undersink storage, toilet brush holder, small toys
9 dry clothes on line
10 drain bacon on newspaper
11 use baking soda, vinegar and boiling water to clear out sink clogs
12 turn card board boxes inside out for mailing
13 use grocery bags as trash can liners
14 wash plastic utensils
15 make kitchen scrubbies out of plastic mesh onion bags
16 make rubber bands from shot rubber gloves
17 make cleaning rags from old towels and t shirts thus eliminating paper towels
18 sew up cloth napkins from scrap fabric
19 use the clean backs of junk mail ads, notes from school, etc. in computer printer
20 carefully open up junk mail envelopes, re-glue inside out and use
21 use paper scraps for notes by the phone
(Food)
22 buy bulk meats, divide and freeze in salvaged bags (frozen vegetable, produce, bread, etc,)
23 start raised beds or container gardens
24 compost pile from vegetable peelings, banana peels, shredded documents, etc.
25 forage berries, dandelion and other greens
26 can and freeze
27 cut milk with reconstituted non-fat-dry
28 use day old bread
29 use other jars for canning (mayo for regular quarts and other jars with lids for gifts)
30 make jelly from canned fruit liquids, or apple peels and cores
31 watermelon rind pickle
32 purchase foods loss leader, preferably with coupons, with rebates, and stock a pantry/freezer
33 eat beans
34 cook from scratch
35 drink water, not soda
36 use one tea bag to make a pot
37 buy from the grocery’s discount bin
38 institute a leftover soup or smorgasbord night
39 save bacon drippings in a jar in the fridge for cooking other things
40 buy cheese ends at the deli counter if cheaper
41 make homemade yoghurt
42 save bread ends to make bread crumbs
43 make bread crumb cookies
44 add bread crumbs to homemade granola before baking
45 add bread crumbs to ground beef for hamburgers, not just meatloaf
46 use a crockpot instead of stove top or oven
47 make cheap meals, get ideas from $5 Dinners and Hillbilly Housewife on line or the More With Less Cookbook
48 check the weight of already bagged produce and buy the heaviest bag
49 buy produce from road side stands or pick your own if you can find a deal
50 glean (different from foraging)
51 gratefully receive gifts of extra produce (yes, even zucchini)
(Personal care)
52 cut own hair, go longer between cuts
53 use up all the toothpaste, cutting the tube open if need be
54 soften solid deodorant tidbits in microwave and refill container with melted bits
55 use up the last bit of lipstick by mixing with Vaseline to make gloss
56 use baking soda instead of tooth paste
57 do not color grey hair
58 rinse off razor, dry, and put a thin coating of Vaseline on to prolong it’s life
59 shave after a shower, eliminating gel
(Furnishings)
60 buy used furniture from thrift stores. yard sales, auctions, even antique places
61 scrap quilt, use worn out blanket instead of batting
62 use dial up at home or use the library computers
63 eliminate cable TV
64 instead of a cell phone, use Tracphone
65 scope out freecycle and craigslist
66 buy books at library sales, thrift stores, or online used book venues
67 make curtains from flat sheets
68 decorate you home with natural found objects, like stones or shells
69 trash pick (or if you prefer call it trolling or treasure hunting)
(Occasional)
70 make Christmas gifts/shop loss leader sales/buy at thrift stores
71 barter (include trading off baby sitting)
72 buy birthday cards at Dollar Tree or thrift store
73 buy stamps online from dealer and get discounted prices
74 pick up aluminum cans off the street and cash in
75 use alternative long distance service
76 do without
77 ask for prescription samples from the doctor or from the drug company
78 don’t get pets
79 take day trip vacations
80 take up walking as exercise
81 buy used cars
82 keep the thermostat lower in winter and higher in summer
83 use the library for videos, special reading programs, interlibrary loan, and informational classes
84 take advantage of community walking trails, free events
85 eliminate subscriptions, read online, or share with friends
86 make your own fun, tree fort from scrap lumber, wild birthday parties
(Clothes)
87 wear clothes more than one day before washing (not underwear or socks though)
88 wear clothes/shoes until they’re worn out
89 mend underwear, socks, rips in clothes
90 cut down adult sized clothes to fit kids
91 re-purpose old adult t shirts as sleeping shirts for little kids
92 go barefoot
93 use shoe goo to build up worn spots on shoe heels
94 make homemade baby wipes from Bounty paper towels, shampoo, baby oil, and warm water
95 cloth diapers
96 thrift stores and yard sales
97 discount stores like Ross, Dollar General, Gabriel Brothers
98 online sales with electronic coupons
99 hand me downs or loaners
(Household management)
1 reuse aluminum foil
2 wash out and reuse Ziploc bags
3 tie up soap tidbits in the foot of an old nylon stocking and use them
4 make cleaning products from vinegar or ammonia
5 use less laundry detergent than called for, or make your own
6 fill dishpan with soapy dishwater and rinse in a dishpan of clear water
7 cut rectangles from cereal box liners and use as reusable/washable microwave spatter guards
8 re-purpose plastic milk jugs for undersink storage, toilet brush holder, small toys
9 dry clothes on line
10 drain bacon on newspaper
11 use baking soda, vinegar and boiling water to clear out sink clogs
12 turn card board boxes inside out for mailing
13 use grocery bags as trash can liners
14 wash plastic utensils
15 make kitchen scrubbies out of plastic mesh onion bags
16 make rubber bands from shot rubber gloves
17 make cleaning rags from old towels and t shirts thus eliminating paper towels
18 sew up cloth napkins from scrap fabric
19 use the clean backs of junk mail ads, notes from school, etc. in computer printer
20 carefully open up junk mail envelopes, re-glue inside out and use
21 use paper scraps for notes by the phone
(Food)
22 buy bulk meats, divide and freeze in salvaged bags (frozen vegetable, produce, bread, etc,)
23 start raised beds or container gardens
24 compost pile from vegetable peelings, banana peels, shredded documents, etc.
25 forage berries, dandelion and other greens
26 can and freeze
27 cut milk with reconstituted non-fat-dry
28 use day old bread
29 use other jars for canning (mayo for regular quarts and other jars with lids for gifts)
30 make jelly from canned fruit liquids, or apple peels and cores
31 watermelon rind pickle
32 purchase foods loss leader, preferably with coupons, with rebates, and stock a pantry/freezer
33 eat beans
34 cook from scratch
35 drink water, not soda
36 use one tea bag to make a pot
37 buy from the grocery’s discount bin
38 institute a leftover soup or smorgasbord night
39 save bacon drippings in a jar in the fridge for cooking other things
40 buy cheese ends at the deli counter if cheaper
41 make homemade yoghurt
42 save bread ends to make bread crumbs
43 make bread crumb cookies
44 add bread crumbs to homemade granola before baking
45 add bread crumbs to ground beef for hamburgers, not just meatloaf
46 use a crockpot instead of stove top or oven
47 make cheap meals, get ideas from $5 Dinners and Hillbilly Housewife on line or the More With Less Cookbook
48 check the weight of already bagged produce and buy the heaviest bag
49 buy produce from road side stands or pick your own if you can find a deal
50 glean (different from foraging)
51 gratefully receive gifts of extra produce (yes, even zucchini)
(Personal care)
52 cut own hair, go longer between cuts
53 use up all the toothpaste, cutting the tube open if need be
54 soften solid deodorant tidbits in microwave and refill container with melted bits
55 use up the last bit of lipstick by mixing with Vaseline to make gloss
56 use baking soda instead of tooth paste
57 do not color grey hair
58 rinse off razor, dry, and put a thin coating of Vaseline on to prolong it’s life
59 shave after a shower, eliminating gel
(Furnishings)
60 buy used furniture from thrift stores. yard sales, auctions, even antique places
61 scrap quilt, use worn out blanket instead of batting
62 use dial up at home or use the library computers
63 eliminate cable TV
64 instead of a cell phone, use Tracphone
65 scope out freecycle and craigslist
66 buy books at library sales, thrift stores, or online used book venues
67 make curtains from flat sheets
68 decorate you home with natural found objects, like stones or shells
69 trash pick (or if you prefer call it trolling or treasure hunting)
(Occasional)
70 make Christmas gifts/shop loss leader sales/buy at thrift stores
71 barter (include trading off baby sitting)
72 buy birthday cards at Dollar Tree or thrift store
73 buy stamps online from dealer and get discounted prices
74 pick up aluminum cans off the street and cash in
75 use alternative long distance service
76 do without
77 ask for prescription samples from the doctor or from the drug company
78 don’t get pets
79 take day trip vacations
80 take up walking as exercise
81 buy used cars
82 keep the thermostat lower in winter and higher in summer
83 use the library for videos, special reading programs, interlibrary loan, and informational classes
84 take advantage of community walking trails, free events
85 eliminate subscriptions, read online, or share with friends
86 make your own fun, tree fort from scrap lumber, wild birthday parties
(Clothes)
87 wear clothes more than one day before washing (not underwear or socks though)
88 wear clothes/shoes until they’re worn out
89 mend underwear, socks, rips in clothes
90 cut down adult sized clothes to fit kids
91 re-purpose old adult t shirts as sleeping shirts for little kids
92 go barefoot
93 use shoe goo to build up worn spots on shoe heels
94 make homemade baby wipes from Bounty paper towels, shampoo, baby oil, and warm water
95 cloth diapers
96 thrift stores and yard sales
97 discount stores like Ross, Dollar General, Gabriel Brothers
98 online sales with electronic coupons
99 hand me downs or loaners
Friday, March 12, 2010
Stone Soup
We were coming to the end of our time in South Dakota. My husband, Art, interviewed in Oregon where we stayed at a church elder’s home. His house was surrounded by trees, where mists settled into lower winding paths, softening their edges. It lent a postcard quality to the place. One night we were treated to an all church get together. Our host’s sister made a huge tomato based stew, full of eggplant, peppers, zucchini, green beans, onions, and carrots. Someone else baked crusty loaves of homemade bread and supplied butter. It was a very pleasant time. The stew was good, we were still slightly sleepy from jet lag, the house was warm, and conversation mellowed into a soft hum. It wasn’t until we settled into bed later that night I realized there was no meat in the stew, and remembered the stew maker was between jobs.
A Depression era actor, when he finally got a gig, invited all his friends over for soup. He supplied the soup-bone, pot and water, and everyone else brought a vegetable gift for the pot. Some were pilfered, some purchased. One latecomer found her onion arrived too late. Everyone had eaten, and the pot was empty. Feeling sorry for her, the host revealed his secret. Instead of a soup bone, the pot contained one very well scrubbed rock.
A Depression era actor, when he finally got a gig, invited all his friends over for soup. He supplied the soup-bone, pot and water, and everyone else brought a vegetable gift for the pot. Some were pilfered, some purchased. One latecomer found her onion arrived too late. Everyone had eaten, and the pot was empty. Feeling sorry for her, the host revealed his secret. Instead of a soup bone, the pot contained one very well scrubbed rock.
Friday, March 5, 2010
In Anticipation of Spring-Dandelion Wine
The check out bagger said his uncle’s wine tasted like sunshine. Was it sweet? Yes, but not too much. And yellow? Ah yes, a beautiful color. It sure packed a wallop too. With that, the corners of his mouth formed a dreamy smile, and his eyes glistened a bit.
It sounded like a lovely Christmas gift for family. And if Katie Luther was known for her good beer, why couldn’t a Presbyterian try her hand at wine? So, this last spring I picked all the yellow heads from our own fine crop of dandelions. It came to about a quart. The internet yielded a ton of recipes. All but two called for a gallon of heads. That eliminated most. Many required expensive equipment too. Well not now. People made dandelion wine long before speciality yeasts and special containers. So I went with an older “family” method calling for a crock and combined it with the recipes using fewer heads. A scrubbed gallon pickle jar, swished in bleach water before rinsing, seemed to fill the bill. When all was said and done it wasn’t quite large enough, so I borrowed another large jar and divided the “must” among the two.
For several weeks the concoction bubbled and frothed. Every day I stirred it down. The smell was reminiscent of friendship bread. However it was an ugly, brownish green color. Not at all yellow. There was too much of an investment to toss it though, and since it didn’t actually smell unpleasant, I persevered. Finally it stopped fermenting. The recipe said to let it sit for a day to make sure, then filter all the solids out. It was still cloudy, not at all attractive, and took quite a few days until the sludgy stuff fell to the bottom. Finally a clearer yellow appeared on top. Now we were getting somewhere. I siphoned it off between settlings a couple times, until only the good stuff remained. One little over zealous suck got an accidental mouthful. Whoa! It did have a kick.
With all the excitement, I’d forgotten the bottles. I cleared the fridge of chili sauce, soy sauce, even olive oil and a couple other oddball containers. Any glass bottle with a screw on lid was washed up and enlisted for the cause. The final product tasted a bit herbal, like sweet vermouth, with the lovely golden yellow of liquid sunshine. It’s supposed to be better if you age it six months to a year. Maybe next time I’ll find out.
Here’s the adapted recipe.
Pick fully-open, fresh, yellow dandelions heads (no stems) on a sunny day. Remove the green base, (called the ‘receptacle’, now we know), from about half of them leaving only the yellow petals. Boil a quart of blossoms in a gallon of water in a large pot for thirty minutes. Strain out the flowers through a cloth lined colander, pouring the liquid into a large, clean gallon jar. Once that cools, return it to the scrubbed pot and add one tablespoon of dried yeast, (I happen to have rapid rise), six cups of sugar, a box of raisons, one orange and one lemon, both chopped fine with the peels on. Stir to dissolve the sugar and yeast. Ladle the whole shebang evenly between two sterilized gallon jars, or into one larger jar if you have it. (You’ll need bubbling room.) Cover loosely with the lids. Every day stir the concoction down and re-cover. It will continue fermenting for about two weeks. Once it stops, strain the solids out, pouring the liquid back into the jars. Wait until it settles. Carefully siphon the clear wine off the top into sterilized bottles, leaving the sludge behind. (I used new plastic tubing made for fish tank filters.) This took several passes until the wine was totally transparent. Once bottled, close the lids tightly, wrap circles of saran wrap over the caps and upper bottle neck, to keep the air out, and cover those with circles of aluminum foil, for aesthetics. Attach homemade labels and they’re ready for gift giving.
It sounded like a lovely Christmas gift for family. And if Katie Luther was known for her good beer, why couldn’t a Presbyterian try her hand at wine? So, this last spring I picked all the yellow heads from our own fine crop of dandelions. It came to about a quart. The internet yielded a ton of recipes. All but two called for a gallon of heads. That eliminated most. Many required expensive equipment too. Well not now. People made dandelion wine long before speciality yeasts and special containers. So I went with an older “family” method calling for a crock and combined it with the recipes using fewer heads. A scrubbed gallon pickle jar, swished in bleach water before rinsing, seemed to fill the bill. When all was said and done it wasn’t quite large enough, so I borrowed another large jar and divided the “must” among the two.
For several weeks the concoction bubbled and frothed. Every day I stirred it down. The smell was reminiscent of friendship bread. However it was an ugly, brownish green color. Not at all yellow. There was too much of an investment to toss it though, and since it didn’t actually smell unpleasant, I persevered. Finally it stopped fermenting. The recipe said to let it sit for a day to make sure, then filter all the solids out. It was still cloudy, not at all attractive, and took quite a few days until the sludgy stuff fell to the bottom. Finally a clearer yellow appeared on top. Now we were getting somewhere. I siphoned it off between settlings a couple times, until only the good stuff remained. One little over zealous suck got an accidental mouthful. Whoa! It did have a kick.
With all the excitement, I’d forgotten the bottles. I cleared the fridge of chili sauce, soy sauce, even olive oil and a couple other oddball containers. Any glass bottle with a screw on lid was washed up and enlisted for the cause. The final product tasted a bit herbal, like sweet vermouth, with the lovely golden yellow of liquid sunshine. It’s supposed to be better if you age it six months to a year. Maybe next time I’ll find out.
Here’s the adapted recipe.
Pick fully-open, fresh, yellow dandelions heads (no stems) on a sunny day. Remove the green base, (called the ‘receptacle’, now we know), from about half of them leaving only the yellow petals. Boil a quart of blossoms in a gallon of water in a large pot for thirty minutes. Strain out the flowers through a cloth lined colander, pouring the liquid into a large, clean gallon jar. Once that cools, return it to the scrubbed pot and add one tablespoon of dried yeast, (I happen to have rapid rise), six cups of sugar, a box of raisons, one orange and one lemon, both chopped fine with the peels on. Stir to dissolve the sugar and yeast. Ladle the whole shebang evenly between two sterilized gallon jars, or into one larger jar if you have it. (You’ll need bubbling room.) Cover loosely with the lids. Every day stir the concoction down and re-cover. It will continue fermenting for about two weeks. Once it stops, strain the solids out, pouring the liquid back into the jars. Wait until it settles. Carefully siphon the clear wine off the top into sterilized bottles, leaving the sludge behind. (I used new plastic tubing made for fish tank filters.) This took several passes until the wine was totally transparent. Once bottled, close the lids tightly, wrap circles of saran wrap over the caps and upper bottle neck, to keep the air out, and cover those with circles of aluminum foil, for aesthetics. Attach homemade labels and they’re ready for gift giving.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Poetic Justice
My dad loved everything living. He’d go around the house glass and piece of cardboard in hand to trap a wayward fly, so that he could release it outside. I did the unthinkable once and tossed a potted twig after it sat on the kitchen table for months and months without sprouting. Dad rescued it and admonished my impatience.
Well, he was right. It started budding, and come spring he planted it in the backyard. Somewhere he found an open spot among the fruit trees, mulberry bushes, and bamboo stalks he had already put in that crazy space.
OK, Dad was a bit eccentric. He was a dreamy minded artist. We moved to a conventional suburban neighborhood, into a twin home with regular working class neighbors. The adjustment was rough, for us at least. Mom stayed inside most of the time, and Dad was oblivious. But once the pecking order reshuffled to accommodate the new kids on the block, (my sisters and I), we made friends and developed regular routines. Besides the other girls actually on our short dead end street, there were a couple of really nice families nearby. Donahues and Tierneys. The Donahues were a large Catholic family. They occupied a huge Victorian. Their backyard consisted of a multi-bayed garage, some worn spots, and an ancient Elm. That tree was about 3 ½ stories high and so thick two kids had to join hands to encircle it. One stormy night early on in our time there, a large branch broke off, partially landing on the garage. Sadly, the break revealed all was not well with the tree. So Mr. Donahue did the sensible thing, and cut it down. The process took over a day of constant chain saws and cracking limbs. Even now the felling of an old tree gives me deep sadness.
Sometime after that, new neighbors moved into the small row home on the end of our block. Mrs. McKinley, her ailing husband, and their youngest son, Jon. Mr. McKinley passed soon after the move, and Mrs. McKinley poured her energies into her postage stamp sized front and back yards. She grew everything. It was a jungle of green and flowers. Viney plants on trellises, large leaved ground plants, shade and cool, and as an accommodation to convention, a small privet hedge neatly trimmed along the front yard’s narrow sidewalk, in some sort of vain attempt to keep everything contained.
Our family lived in our house for about 30 years. Neighbors came and went. Jon grew up and moved away. My sisters and I grew up and moved too. Mrs. McKinley stayed. My dad became ill, and after many years, died. Mrs. McKinley visited my mom, to share books and talk. One day she pointed out something sprouting in her and Mom’s hedges. Of all things, Elm saplings.
Well, he was right. It started budding, and come spring he planted it in the backyard. Somewhere he found an open spot among the fruit trees, mulberry bushes, and bamboo stalks he had already put in that crazy space.
OK, Dad was a bit eccentric. He was a dreamy minded artist. We moved to a conventional suburban neighborhood, into a twin home with regular working class neighbors. The adjustment was rough, for us at least. Mom stayed inside most of the time, and Dad was oblivious. But once the pecking order reshuffled to accommodate the new kids on the block, (my sisters and I), we made friends and developed regular routines. Besides the other girls actually on our short dead end street, there were a couple of really nice families nearby. Donahues and Tierneys. The Donahues were a large Catholic family. They occupied a huge Victorian. Their backyard consisted of a multi-bayed garage, some worn spots, and an ancient Elm. That tree was about 3 ½ stories high and so thick two kids had to join hands to encircle it. One stormy night early on in our time there, a large branch broke off, partially landing on the garage. Sadly, the break revealed all was not well with the tree. So Mr. Donahue did the sensible thing, and cut it down. The process took over a day of constant chain saws and cracking limbs. Even now the felling of an old tree gives me deep sadness.
Sometime after that, new neighbors moved into the small row home on the end of our block. Mrs. McKinley, her ailing husband, and their youngest son, Jon. Mr. McKinley passed soon after the move, and Mrs. McKinley poured her energies into her postage stamp sized front and back yards. She grew everything. It was a jungle of green and flowers. Viney plants on trellises, large leaved ground plants, shade and cool, and as an accommodation to convention, a small privet hedge neatly trimmed along the front yard’s narrow sidewalk, in some sort of vain attempt to keep everything contained.
Our family lived in our house for about 30 years. Neighbors came and went. Jon grew up and moved away. My sisters and I grew up and moved too. Mrs. McKinley stayed. My dad became ill, and after many years, died. Mrs. McKinley visited my mom, to share books and talk. One day she pointed out something sprouting in her and Mom’s hedges. Of all things, Elm saplings.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Sort of a Book Review Possum Living
You have to admit the name is intriguing. I first heard the title mentioned in a Philip Brewer article for Wisebread over a year ago. Philip looks at his dog-eared copy when he wants perspective. After a bit of searching I found the book in it’s entirety on line. Read only. Then our intrepid library ladies tracked down a copy through inter-library loan. It’s easier to peruse in hand but had to be returned. I wanted my own and checked our favorite used book sites, only to find it was outrageously expensive to purchase. Happily, it was reprinted just this year and is available for $12.95. My sister Lisa gave it to me as a Christmas gift. (Thanks Lisa!)
PL addresses basic questions, “What is enough?”, and “Is there a way to live outside the money economy?” I’ve puzzled over ways to integrate Dolly Freed’s experiences into our current situation, eliminating any ethically shady bits. (There are plenty.) Several major strategies remain. Maintain a large garden, cook from scratch, preserve, learn how to fix things by reading library books, forage, and be content. I suppose in a pinch I could learn to kill rabbits for meat. That certainly would be a learning curve for the kid who freaked when her fish swallowed a hook. But our cellar isn’t good for rabbit breeding or chicken nesting either, as it tends to flood in heavy rains. So gratefully, that’s not an option. And there are always beans.
Dolly and her dad were content to live in a fixed up house, basically off the land, and never go anywhere. If it were a treehouse in the woods as home base, maybe I’d agree. Washington state, or Britain or France even. But a treehouse, or a small bungalow among trees. Not suburbia. Not all the time.
Would I recommend it? Try interlibrary loan first. It may not be your cup of tea. For me it adds ideas to the stockpile. I have big dreams and limited means. The romance of cross country travel, silent stepping in pine forests, musty marsh smells, hawk calls, salty sea breezes, churning brooks, cool water rocks. All these sing their siren songs. How to get from here to there though, that is the question. And Possum Living may just offer some answers.
PL addresses basic questions, “What is enough?”, and “Is there a way to live outside the money economy?” I’ve puzzled over ways to integrate Dolly Freed’s experiences into our current situation, eliminating any ethically shady bits. (There are plenty.) Several major strategies remain. Maintain a large garden, cook from scratch, preserve, learn how to fix things by reading library books, forage, and be content. I suppose in a pinch I could learn to kill rabbits for meat. That certainly would be a learning curve for the kid who freaked when her fish swallowed a hook. But our cellar isn’t good for rabbit breeding or chicken nesting either, as it tends to flood in heavy rains. So gratefully, that’s not an option. And there are always beans.
Dolly and her dad were content to live in a fixed up house, basically off the land, and never go anywhere. If it were a treehouse in the woods as home base, maybe I’d agree. Washington state, or Britain or France even. But a treehouse, or a small bungalow among trees. Not suburbia. Not all the time.
Would I recommend it? Try interlibrary loan first. It may not be your cup of tea. For me it adds ideas to the stockpile. I have big dreams and limited means. The romance of cross country travel, silent stepping in pine forests, musty marsh smells, hawk calls, salty sea breezes, churning brooks, cool water rocks. All these sing their siren songs. How to get from here to there though, that is the question. And Possum Living may just offer some answers.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
It All Fits
I’ve been revisiting a high school passion, Fibonacci numbers. “Huh?”
OK here’s an explanation from Wikipedia, “In mathematics, the Fibonacci numbers are the numbers in the following sequence: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144...By definition, the first two Fibonacci numbers are 0 and 1, and each remaining number is the sum of the previous two”. Fibonacci numbers show up in the proportions of a snail shell spiral and the curved patterns in a sunflower head’s seeds even though they were invented by man. “Strange”, you say. Bear with me a bit. Thinking about these numbers lead to some mental wanderings. Sort of brain ping pong. Keep your eye on the bouncing ball.
There is an exquisite order in the universe. We know it exists intuitively. It’s here before we arrive. We seek to make sense of the world from our earliest interactions, to understand patterns and categories because we know they’re already in place. To decipher language, interpret facial expressions, decide whether we prefer strained peas to mashed banana, we develop filing systems for the bits and pieces. Even language reflects our heart of hearts knowledge of pre-existing order. We say “circulatory system”, “logic”, “cause and effect”, “singing off-key”, “proportion”, “laws of nature”.
The double helix is both beautiful and simple. Envision the cell division dance enabling reproduction. Amazing. Chromosomes. Microscopic codes, blueprints for life. Why someone has one blue eye and one brown. Why your kid gestures like your dad. Why identical twins look alike. Why some tomatoes are nematode resistant. Or certain flowers come in certain colors.
And yet for all our gathering and filing we can’t get to the One Thing Holding It All Together. It is outside our experience and capacity. Too big and way before our time. So we go into default mode. If I can’t see, hear, taste, touch, or smell it, it doesn’t exist. Very unsatisfying. It’s the little kid playing peek a boo, “I can’t see you”, when he knows you’re there.
Then we ask, where does creativity come from? Or love? Or hope? “From within ourselves”, we answer. That’s quite a stretch. Sort of like the geocentric theory of the solar system. You have to explain away a lot of irregular orbits. Unless of course planets revolve around the Sun. Then it all makes sense.
OK here’s an explanation from Wikipedia, “In mathematics, the Fibonacci numbers are the numbers in the following sequence: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144...By definition, the first two Fibonacci numbers are 0 and 1, and each remaining number is the sum of the previous two”. Fibonacci numbers show up in the proportions of a snail shell spiral and the curved patterns in a sunflower head’s seeds even though they were invented by man. “Strange”, you say. Bear with me a bit. Thinking about these numbers lead to some mental wanderings. Sort of brain ping pong. Keep your eye on the bouncing ball.
There is an exquisite order in the universe. We know it exists intuitively. It’s here before we arrive. We seek to make sense of the world from our earliest interactions, to understand patterns and categories because we know they’re already in place. To decipher language, interpret facial expressions, decide whether we prefer strained peas to mashed banana, we develop filing systems for the bits and pieces. Even language reflects our heart of hearts knowledge of pre-existing order. We say “circulatory system”, “logic”, “cause and effect”, “singing off-key”, “proportion”, “laws of nature”.
The double helix is both beautiful and simple. Envision the cell division dance enabling reproduction. Amazing. Chromosomes. Microscopic codes, blueprints for life. Why someone has one blue eye and one brown. Why your kid gestures like your dad. Why identical twins look alike. Why some tomatoes are nematode resistant. Or certain flowers come in certain colors.
And yet for all our gathering and filing we can’t get to the One Thing Holding It All Together. It is outside our experience and capacity. Too big and way before our time. So we go into default mode. If I can’t see, hear, taste, touch, or smell it, it doesn’t exist. Very unsatisfying. It’s the little kid playing peek a boo, “I can’t see you”, when he knows you’re there.
Then we ask, where does creativity come from? Or love? Or hope? “From within ourselves”, we answer. That’s quite a stretch. Sort of like the geocentric theory of the solar system. You have to explain away a lot of irregular orbits. Unless of course planets revolve around the Sun. Then it all makes sense.
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