Ok, from the blogs and forums I lurk on I'm just about to pull out my beard.
Yes, it's HOT across much of America and yes THERE'S NO POWER.
These are not blogs and forums for people who like kittens and live in city apartments. These are hardcore prepping and survival forums and blogs.
I understand if you're hot. It's hot outside. But what are you going to do? NOT GARDEN? NOT TEND YOUR LIVESTOCK? These are things you ought to be doing as a matter of your survival. Your survival is not a matter for comfort. In fact, comfort has nothing to do with it. Try and find ways to cope with the heat, from cooling down with water on you to getting up earlier and doing hard labor before it gets too hot. Take a nap during the heat of the day, or at least sit in the shade and read a book. While you're at it, you might think about your living conditions. If you live in a big metal box of a trailer house or a modern home that was designed to have gigawatts pumped in to run fans and air conditioning then it's itme to reevaluate that decision.
Next, if you're thinking you're going to die without electricity then it's CERTAINLY time to reevaluate your lifestyle. Why did you let yourself get into this situation in the first place, where your entire life is dependent upon someone else providing you some nebulous thing? Your well pump is out? You can't cook? You live in a city and it's completely dark all around you? All your frozen foods are spoiling and you won't have food?
Better take this mild rebuke from God as the merciful warning that it is. In the not-too-distant future there's going to be no electricity available. There will be no law and order beyond what communities can provide for themselves. There will be no food production beyond what families and communities need and can provide.
Your weak mentality of creature comforts and living in a perpetual 72 degrees with hot and cold running water is going to lead you to die in a ditch somewhere, and you'll most likely die very uncomfortable.
Tempus fugit. Get to work.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Saturday, July 7, 2012
The Government Wants You to Help Your Community
http://dailycaller.com/2012/07/03/usda-combats-mountain-pride-self-reliance-to-boost-food-stamp-rolls/
By getting on food stamps.
It seems that too many people who are eligible for food stamps decline. The government's pitch is that this hurts your communities because you could be bringing in government dollars into the stores (Walmart mostly) and having it circulate in your economy (or flowing back to Bentonville).
Apparently some of the hill folk are bitterly clinging to their pride and refusing to take handouts, even though their low income qualifies them. What could they buy in the store that they don't otherwise produce?
Food stamps are a trap. Take them and you are now the government's slave.
By getting on food stamps.
It seems that too many people who are eligible for food stamps decline. The government's pitch is that this hurts your communities because you could be bringing in government dollars into the stores (Walmart mostly) and having it circulate in your economy (or flowing back to Bentonville).
Apparently some of the hill folk are bitterly clinging to their pride and refusing to take handouts, even though their low income qualifies them. What could they buy in the store that they don't otherwise produce?
Food stamps are a trap. Take them and you are now the government's slave.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
All Wet
Today I got a 1/2hp electric transfer pump and hooked it up to about 300' of garden hose. One end in the pond and ran it off an inverter on my truck.
It says it pumps 1420 gallons per hour and I ran it into my garden for 2 solid hours. Yep, that's a lot of watering. That's one thorough soaking in my garden got and I'm going to try for that twice per week. Maybe then we can salvage some of these plants that have been languishing and see if we can't increase the yield a little.
We're not doing too bad in the garden this year, all things considered. I got a lot of space set up and I'm getting a lot of cantaloupe and tomatoes. There's about one plateful of okra and the cucumbers are just now starting to really pop. I have high hopes we might yet salvage the year with abundant water pumped from the pond.
It says it pumps 1420 gallons per hour and I ran it into my garden for 2 solid hours. Yep, that's a lot of watering. That's one thorough soaking in my garden got and I'm going to try for that twice per week. Maybe then we can salvage some of these plants that have been languishing and see if we can't increase the yield a little.
We're not doing too bad in the garden this year, all things considered. I got a lot of space set up and I'm getting a lot of cantaloupe and tomatoes. There's about one plateful of okra and the cucumbers are just now starting to really pop. I have high hopes we might yet salvage the year with abundant water pumped from the pond.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Flop Eared Zucchini Burglar
I haven't eaten jackrabbit in many, many years. After tonight, I remember why.
It tastes sort of like chewing on a grilled bicycle tire. Even with salt, pepper, chili powder, and olive oil ... it still is like chewing on a well-seasoned bicycle tire.
I'm a little disturbed that I shot and killed it with birdshot and we finished eating and nobody found any pellets. Did we swallow them or did they just magically not hit the parts we ate? I'm sure through the lens of history, many hunters have swallowed some birdshot with no ill effects. But I don't really like the thought of it rolling around in my colon.
I'm always amazed at what the kids will eat though. Bake cookies with rice flour and no sugar? They love them. They taste like sawdust to the wife and I but the kids think they're in heaven. Grill a bicycle tire, er, jackrabbit and the kids think it's a wonderful dinner that just showed up out in the yard.
I guess it's the fact that their tastebuds haven't been colonized by the corporate-industrial machine for 40 years and they can still recognize real food. Now if only I could get them to like squash.
It tastes sort of like chewing on a grilled bicycle tire. Even with salt, pepper, chili powder, and olive oil ... it still is like chewing on a well-seasoned bicycle tire.
I'm a little disturbed that I shot and killed it with birdshot and we finished eating and nobody found any pellets. Did we swallow them or did they just magically not hit the parts we ate? I'm sure through the lens of history, many hunters have swallowed some birdshot with no ill effects. But I don't really like the thought of it rolling around in my colon.
I'm always amazed at what the kids will eat though. Bake cookies with rice flour and no sugar? They love them. They taste like sawdust to the wife and I but the kids think they're in heaven. Grill a bicycle tire, er, jackrabbit and the kids think it's a wonderful dinner that just showed up out in the yard.
I guess it's the fact that their tastebuds haven't been colonized by the corporate-industrial machine for 40 years and they can still recognize real food. Now if only I could get them to like squash.
Frank's Independence Day
God clearly meant for us to live agrarian lives, based on the educations that livestock and gardens often give us.
This morning I went outside around dawn and heard a loud grunt. I turned to see 350 pounds of boar hog rushing at me. The first thought that went through my mind was, "Please, Lord, let this be Frank." Turns out it was Frank for he rushed up and started rubbing his head on my leg like a dog. Frank was very happy to see me. I bent and scratched him on his hams (which he likes) and then we went to see how Frank had gotten out of his pen.
Most pig pens I've seen are somewhat ramshackle affairs cobbled together out of available materials and mine is no exception. Frank had managed to bust loose some wire binding a hog panel to a t-post and make a hole big enough to squeeze through.
Frank had about an hour or so of freedom on this beautiful Independence Day which he spent (presumably) hunting for food, water, and lady pigs. He apparently found none of those and then sold his freedom for a bag of pork rinds. He was reestablished in his pen (now made secure) and fed and watered. He's given a few wistful looks at the outside and rattled the fence a couple of times but with his belly full he doesn't seem inclined to try it again right now. Maybe he's fooling himself that he can get loose anytime he wants.
I've got to run into town today for a replacement drill bit. All of the stores have been advertising today about Indepence Day sales, bargains, and low, low, low introductory APR on store credit cards. That's their bag of pork rinds that they're shaking in your face. Will you sell your freedom as cheaply as Frank did?
The nature of man is no better than that of Frank. Like Esau, we would sell our birthright for a bowl of cold porridge.
This morning I went outside around dawn and heard a loud grunt. I turned to see 350 pounds of boar hog rushing at me. The first thought that went through my mind was, "Please, Lord, let this be Frank." Turns out it was Frank for he rushed up and started rubbing his head on my leg like a dog. Frank was very happy to see me. I bent and scratched him on his hams (which he likes) and then we went to see how Frank had gotten out of his pen.
Most pig pens I've seen are somewhat ramshackle affairs cobbled together out of available materials and mine is no exception. Frank had managed to bust loose some wire binding a hog panel to a t-post and make a hole big enough to squeeze through.
Frank had about an hour or so of freedom on this beautiful Independence Day which he spent (presumably) hunting for food, water, and lady pigs. He apparently found none of those and then sold his freedom for a bag of pork rinds. He was reestablished in his pen (now made secure) and fed and watered. He's given a few wistful looks at the outside and rattled the fence a couple of times but with his belly full he doesn't seem inclined to try it again right now. Maybe he's fooling himself that he can get loose anytime he wants.
I've got to run into town today for a replacement drill bit. All of the stores have been advertising today about Indepence Day sales, bargains, and low, low, low introductory APR on store credit cards. That's their bag of pork rinds that they're shaking in your face. Will you sell your freedom as cheaply as Frank did?
The nature of man is no better than that of Frank. Like Esau, we would sell our birthright for a bowl of cold porridge.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
All is Right
There's a gentle rain falling now. I don't remember the last time we had a gentle rain. Normally rains out here are accompanied by thunder and lightning, high winds, and occasionally hail. The sun is still shining but yet it's raining hard enough to collect off the roof. What a blessing!
The new dog (whose name is "Fang Grip Snarl") is sleeping up under the porch. A day of rest, water, and food (as well as near continual petting) has rendered him a blissful happy puppy. He explored his new home earlier and gets scolded regularly for trying to eat shoes left on the back porch.
Momma Hen has lost one of her chicks and is down to 3. Not sure what happened to it but I found it dead in the roosting area she has chosen, an apparent victim of being sat on and smothered. The rest are doing well and as the rain falls, they're all huddled underneath an oak in some sandstone rocks. I guess some losses are to be expected. She is learning how to be a mother, after all, and if I'd penned her up then she still might have inadvertently squished her baby. So the process continues.
A very restful Sabbath today. Dinner is almost finished (hamburger meat, refried beans, and about 5 pounds of cheese apparently) and smells great. A welcome break from the cantaloupe we've been eating lately. I like cantaloupe, but my garden is really overproducing them this year and we're having trouble keeping up. The pig is enjoying the excess (and chicken-pecked) melons that he gets and he looks like he's putting on some weight.
Life continues. All is right under the sky here at Possum Creek.
The new dog (whose name is "Fang Grip Snarl") is sleeping up under the porch. A day of rest, water, and food (as well as near continual petting) has rendered him a blissful happy puppy. He explored his new home earlier and gets scolded regularly for trying to eat shoes left on the back porch.
Momma Hen has lost one of her chicks and is down to 3. Not sure what happened to it but I found it dead in the roosting area she has chosen, an apparent victim of being sat on and smothered. The rest are doing well and as the rain falls, they're all huddled underneath an oak in some sandstone rocks. I guess some losses are to be expected. She is learning how to be a mother, after all, and if I'd penned her up then she still might have inadvertently squished her baby. So the process continues.
A very restful Sabbath today. Dinner is almost finished (hamburger meat, refried beans, and about 5 pounds of cheese apparently) and smells great. A welcome break from the cantaloupe we've been eating lately. I like cantaloupe, but my garden is really overproducing them this year and we're having trouble keeping up. The pig is enjoying the excess (and chicken-pecked) melons that he gets and he looks like he's putting on some weight.
Life continues. All is right under the sky here at Possum Creek.
Choices
If I asked you to choose between a good job and a good life, which would you choose?
This question often makes people angry. Why do you think that is? Did it make you angry? Why do you think that is?
This question often makes people angry. Why do you think that is? Did it make you angry? Why do you think that is?
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