Monday, June 29, 2015
We have been experiencing the most unusually extreme temperatures! Typically we get a few days of extreme heat (over 100 degrees) every August, however June and July are warm but manageable. This year is something else entirely. We have already strayed into the triple digits and it's not even July!
Because we live in a metal box in the middle of a prairie, we have to get creative to keep our family from succumbing to the heat. One of the drastic steps we have taken to beat the heat this year is to turn our "sunroom" into a sleeping porch.
When I was a little girl, my Great Grandparents had a large house in the Queen Anne neighborhood of Seattle. To my child's eye, their home was a mansion, filled with precious treasures and wonders. For hours I would sit in their telephone room, situated directly between the foyer and the kitchen, and write letters and draw pictures on the pads of paper used for taking phone messages. I would make my way through closets that connected one room to another, pretending they were secret passageways and explore the contents of long-forgotten trunks. I would play the miniature peddle organ on the stairway landing and sneak into the breakfast nook for a solitary moment in the warm, cheery kitchen. But, on the hot summer nights, my very favorite place in the world, was the huge, old-fashioned sleeping porch.
The porch occupied one entire end of the second story. It was about 40 feet long by 15 feet wide with wood floors that creaked with each footfall. The room was wall-to-wall windows, which were covered by storm windows during the winter, but come summer, the windows were stored in the basement and the room became a screened in wonderland. The sleeping porch was nothing fancy, merely 8 metal chaise lounge chairs arranged in a line. They had thick, heavy, old-fashioned mattresses that smelled of age and dust and a few pillows and blankets spread here and there.
My family always visited during the warmest summer months. My mother, grandmother, brother and I would walk to Volunteer Park and meander through the conservatory. My brother and I would perch atop the lions that guarded the entrance to the Seattle Art Museum (located, at that time, in the park), pick water cress in the creek (for sandwiches with our tea) and trot after mom and grandma as they visited, filling each other in on their dramatically different lives.
At the end of the long summer days, sleep would beckon. My parents would retire to a well-appointed guest room with a tall 4 poster bed, linen sheets, and rose scented pillow cases, but my brother and I, we were the lucky ones. We got to slip into crisp sheets on freshly made chaise lounge beds, to be lulled to sleep by crickets, cool breezes and the scents of summer.
With the extreme heat this summer has brought us, I decided that my children needed to experience the sweet sleep of a sleeping porch. Normally, our sunroom is set up with chairs and a table and a single bed, where we often have tea in the evenings, enjoying the cool breeze and lovely views. The sunroom affords us extra living space during the late spring, summer and early fall. But this year, we removed the chairs and tables from the sunroom and added a cot and a "nest", along with the single bed that already occupied one corner, to create a sleeping porch for the children.
The children love their new sleeping quarters! They awake refreshed and rejuvenated, even from the warmest nights. Each night, the kids can't wait to crawl into their beds, made with crisp sheets, and fall asleep, cooled by night breezes and lulled by the sweet music of crickets.
And so, my children get a tiny glimpse into the lives of their Great-Great Grandparents, through our own, little, make-shift sleeping porch.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Last fall Maid Elizabeth brought home 3 pounds of garlic bulbs from a local farmers market. I planted what I could and canned what was left. The garlic flourished over our mild winter and has taken off in our warmer-than-usual spring. As I was weeding the garlic bed last week, I noticed that the scapes were getting large and begging to be harvested. Oh joy!
Garlic scapes are the flower stem of the garlic plant. It is necessary to cut scapes off the plant in early to middle June in order to encourage bulb growth rather than flower growth. Scapes really are the first harvest of the wonderful garlic plant. They can be used fresh or preserved for future use and are incredibly versatile.
Scapes should be harvested while very young if you are planning on eating them fresh. Before they start to curl they are incredibly tender and can be eaten raw, right off the plant. When they are larger, with a bigger flower "bulb" and have curled, they can be eaten like green beans, with a crunchy texture and decidedly garlicky flavor. They are wonderful sautéed with peppers and onions and can even be pickled.
|Master Calvin cutting the last scape!|
|Always use good olive oil!|
|The olive oil completely covers the scapes|
|Ready for use!|
Monday, June 15, 2015
Saturday, Maid Elizabeth and I got up at the crack of dawn and drove an hour south to help Miss Serenity's best friend prepare for her wedding. Maid Elizabeth was in charge of photos and I did hair and makeup for the bridal party (don't ask me how that happened!) and Miss Serenity was the Maid of Honor. It was a beautiful day filled with joy and anticipation.
|The Bride and Groom, Maid of Honor and Best Man|
Ah, the joy of new beginnings!
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
In our ongoing effort to maintain operational readiness, Sir Knight and I have been diligently going through all of our equipment and making sure it is fully functional and in good repair. One of the items on our "to be maintained" list was our 4-wheeler.
Our 4-wheeler is more of a workhorse than it is a recreational vehicle. We use it for all manner of work around the homestead, not to mention we have taught all of our younger children the basics of shifting on the 4-wheeler (before they graduate to motorcycles and automobiles).
Sir Knight keeps up on general maintenance, such as oil changes and air filter replacement, on a regular basis, however, other issues arise that compromise our equipment's usefulness. The 4-wheeler needed new tires this year. Actually, they probably needed new tires two years ago, but tires are expensive! Finally, when our tires were no longer holding air, we placed and order with Bike Bandit for new skins. The tires were shipped to our door and we had a local tire shop put the new tires on the rims. What a difference that made!
While the tires were off, Sir Knight changed the 4-wheeler's CV boots. My dad had noticed a small tear in one of the boots while visiting this spring. Sir Knight immediately took the 4-wheeler out of service and ordered replacement boots. The kits were inexpensive (Bike Bandit again) and fairly easy to change (with the help of youtube, of course). And because they were changed before any damage could be done to the CV joints, we spent less than $20 a side versus $200 a side! Maintenance is your friend!
After the mechanical issues were taken care of, we tended to some cosmetic problems. One of the children (Master Hand Grenade) had rolled the 4-wheeler and broken the rear fender plastic (many years ago). We ordered new plastic through our local Yamaha dealer (the plastic is too expensive to ship) and Sir Knight and Master Hand Grenade installed it - a time consuming job! While we were at it, we ordered (Bike Bandit) a new seat cover. Ours was ripped and nasty looking and we had considered having it reupholstered. Once we found an inexpensive replacement cover online (Bike Bandit), we thought we'd give it a try. It worked like a charm (thank you, youtube!) and looks great. We wouldn't hesitate to recovered any of our seats on our own now.
We still have a few odds and ends to take care of, but our 4-wheeler is absolutely operational and ready for work. With new tires, CV boots, fender plastic and a seat cover, I'm sure that in the coming year the 4-wheeler will plow it's share of snow, carry a number of deer carcasses from the fields to the shouse and haul fencing supplies by the board foot.
Now, on to the next order of business....
Monday, June 8, 2015
One of the interesting things that I have noticed about preppers is that they are great right out of the gate. They are willing to spend money (often a LOT of money) on gear and equipment. They're willing to invest their time in learning new skills. They jump in with both feet, get prepared and settle in to wait for the end of the world. And then the end of the world doesn't happen. Soon, their food stores are depleted. Their skills aren't used and are soon forgotten. Their equipment hasn't been maintained and fallen into disrepair.
Don't believe me? Just look to our recent past - Y2K. How many people do you know that bought into the Y2K hype, became overnight survivalists and now don't have a spare gallon of gas to their names? I know of more than I can count. Much of our preparedness inventory and equipment came from people selling their Y2K stores. They waited for about 5 years and then began slowly liquidating their supplies. Most of the generators had never been run, the grain grinders never used and the gamma sealed buckets never opened. We benefited directly with tremendous deals on never-been-used Dietz lanterns, Aladdin lamps, All-American canners and military surplus. Y2K was good to us in more ways than one!
Although we see the error of our post-Y2K brethren's way, Sir Knight and I can also understand their position. They were experiencing Survival Fatigue. The rush, the panic, the expectation of disaster - followed by an anticlimactic conclusion. Their disenchantment was understandable.
The same thing can happen to us today. We learn, we prepare, we train, in anticipation of societal upheaval, yet society, amazingly, continues on as it did yesterday and the day before. After months, and years and decades, it is easy to become weary and experience our own Survival Fatigue. We can become complacent and apathetic and that complacency can cost us everything.
Being a survivalist is not a hobby, it is a lifestyle. You have to be willing to prepare even when you don't feel like it. You have to be willing to prepare even when everyone tells you there's nothing to prepare for. You have to be willing to maintain your equipment, polish your skills and stay at the ready. You have to be willing to invest yourself in prepping, not just your money.
Maintaining operational readiness should be a part of daily life. Use your equipment and keep it maintained. Rotate your food, rotate your fuel and rotate your medical supplies. Water your batteries, grind your grain and grow your garden. Don't stockpile your skills and equipment for "some day", make them a part of your everyday life, now.
We can't live our lives waiting for future chaos. We have to live now. And in living diligently now, we can maintain our own operational readiness.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
When I was a little girl, my family and I lived on a small island in Puget Sound, a short ferry boat ride away from Seattle. My grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins lived on the same island, as did our entire circle of friends and acquaintances. Our island was small. Everybody knew everyone else. Our neighbors were like family and our family were our neighbors. Island living was small-town living at its best (and sometimes, at its worst).
Across the street, in a yellow farmhouse that was built in the 20's, lived an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Breeze. Mrs. Breeze was a wonderful, meek gentlewoman. She was tiny, soft spoken and much beloved by my brother and I. On occasion, Mrs. Breeze would appear at the end of her driveway as my brother and I walked by on our way to school. Seeing her, we would trot across the street to give her a quick hug and she would reward us with small paper bags of homemade caramel corn. Our walk to school was bathed in the warm glow of neighborly love and sugary sweetness. We loved Mrs. Breeze.
Mr. Breeze was another story. He was gruff and surly, perhaps even a little bit mean. Any time my brother or I would knock on Mrs. Breeze's door, she would quickly usher us through the living room, past Mr. Breeze and into her sunny, light-filled kitchen. But, no matter how quickly we scampered, we could never escape the living room without at least a little bit of bluster from Mr. Breeze.
Sweet Mrs. Breeze and her cheerful kitchen were well worth mustering the courage to rush past Mr. Breeze. She would seat us at her homey table, pour tall, cold, glasses of milk and set out a pretty, flowered plate full of Vanilla Wafers. To this day I cannot eat a 'nila wafer without think of Mrs. Breeze. Every crisp, golden cookie reminds me of gentleness, kindness and a sunny yellow kitchen.
Although I didn't know it at the time, Mrs. Breeze was an extraordinary woman. Mrs. Breeze had married Mr. Breeze when she was very young. They'd had a family, lived a life. And every day of that life, Mrs. Breeze had prayed. She had prayed for a husband that didn't know the God she served. She had prayed for husband that was mean and sometimes violent. She had prayed for a husband that drove her children away and made them loath to visit. She had prayed for a husband that was unlovable and incapable of loving.
Mrs. Breeze loved Mr. Breeze in a way that is only possible through Jesus. She loved him when he told her she couldn't attend church. She loved him when he grouched at the neighbor children. She loved him with a simple, gentle love - a love that he didn't deserve but was worthy of her Savior. Mrs. Breeze radiated Jesus' love to her husband for over 60 years. 60 years that would have reduced a lesser woman to hopelessness. 60 years that could have hardened her heart and embittered her soul. But Mrs. Breeze understood eternity. She knew that as long as her husband drew breath, there was hope. She trusted that Jesus was her champion and her redeemer and that He heard her prayers. She trusted His word. She had faith that could move a mountain.
And move a mountain it did. When Mr. Breeze was in his late 80's, he came to know Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. He was a changed man. He spent his remaining (few) years cherishing his wife and building relationships with his children. No longer did my brother and I run through the living room on the way to the kitchen, now we stopped to visit, and even hold hands, with this new, jovial man that was Mr. Breeze.
As a grown woman, I know Mrs. Breeze in a way that I never imagined as a little girl. Where I used to see her as a quiet, gentle, tiny lady, I now know that she was a mighty warrior. She battled on behalf of her husband - not against flesh and blood but against powers and principalities. In her quiet and gentle way she led her husband to the throne of Christ, though it cost her much - everything. She persevered, in spite of common wisdom, and gained the world.
Mrs. Breeze was my first Titus 2 woman, even though I was only 7 years old....
"Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that none will malign the word of God."
Our marriages are precious. God is faithful. Be that quiet and gentle breeze. It can move mountains.