Perils of Living in the Woods

At least one of the perils of living in the woods is that of falling trees. Forget snakes, poison ivy, wild animals consuming your garden and livestock, nothing has to be addressed with more immediacy than a fallen tree on your storage shed or across your road. A few years ago, after one of the hurricanes pummeled the East Coast, heavy rains loosened the soil around the tree roots. One tree fell onto the shed and crushed the entire upper story. This led to two years of clean-up and rebuilding. Now that the rebuilding is finished and the cleanup is done, we’ve had to deal with more falling trees and it feels never-ending.

Sometimes falling trees can be a blessing. One year, when my husband was out of town, a tree fell across the road on the night before Mother’s Day. Most women I know don’t enjoy Mother’s Day services. First, mother’s day talks at church relay how angel single women raised ten children while holding down three jobs and still managing to be the perfect mother or it’s the speaker’s personal ramblings about how much they love their mother because she never missed their baseball game—either way, it either makes you feel guilty that you aren’t that mother or you’re irritated that your mother was a flesh and blood woman and not one of these super legends and you’re not at the point in your life where you can accept that your mom has (hard swallow-gulp) flaws. So, in my excitement of not having to attend that particular Mother’s Day meeting, I called my girlfriend to relay my good news. Unbeknownst to me, her elderly father overheard her side of the phone call. So, it was at five in the morning that I heard the sound of the chainsaw humming faintly outside the house. I threw on some clothes and jogged down the road to find my friend’s father, wearing his Sunday best protected by an apron cutting up the offensive tree so I could make it to church on time. How could I not go after that? So much for missing out on Mother’s Day—I tried.

Earlier this spring, we came home after working long hours to find two trees down across the road. This meant that even though we were tired, we weren’t going to go anywhere until the tree was moved. Last month, another tree fell across the road a few feet down from the original spot. Just this week, again another two trees fell across the road in a different spot. Each time this happens, we have to drop whatever we’re doing and concentrate all our efforts and energy into moving entire trees off the road. We drag out the chainsaws, chains and tractor and get to work. Sometimes it takes a few days to get it all done. But, on the positive side, we’ll have wood for the winter . . .

Take Care, ALL

Hey, if you’re planning to buy our “Unplug From the Grid,” ebook, wait a few weeks. We are revamping it, adding to it and doing some reformatting to make it better. However, “The Nearly Painless Guide to Rainwater Harvesting” ebook is ready to go and I think it can help those wanting to find ways to get water without drilling a well. We just uploaded “The Nearly Painless Guide to Food Storage” in May and it’s doing well. If you get a chance, I would love to hear what you think of it.

http://www.amazon.com/Nearly-Painless-Guide-Food-Storage--Survival-ebook/dp/B00KBCF5FC/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1403376803&sr=8-3&keywords=Hillary+Bergeron

This blog is amazing. I felt it was something that needed to be passed on.

You never know when you're looking at someone what they're going through. 

http://crooksandliars.com/2014/02/poverty-being-punched-face-over-and-over

A Tale of Two Nurserywomen

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.” A Tale of Two Cities

Today, I worked on my herb garden. I had thrown a few potatoes into one little section since the soil was sitting their unused and I had some sprouts. They seem to really enjoy it there, so for now, I’ll let them stay. Since space is at such a premium around here, I can’t afford to be wasteful. I know I’m getting a late start on planting, but it couldn’t be helped. I have spent the past few months working on my food storage book and could barely find time to take my dog for his daily walk. I knew I would be paying the price for my procrastination, but I had no idea it would be as bad as it was.

First off, by the time I visited the local nursery, my favorite nurseryman had sold it and moved north. The first clue that he was gone was the lack of plants. As I drove up, one car was in the lot. A woman on a cell phone was milling about with her phone glued to her ear. She could hardly be bothered with her only customer and when she finally lowered her phone (not hanging up) to ask us what we wanted, I realized I wasn’t going to have a good experience. Second, the scant amount of plants she did have were hideously mistreated. Yellowed leaves on some, and some pepper plants had ALL the leaves plucked off with only a small undeveloped pepper hanging off it. WOW—I couldn’t believe it, they’d removed every single one of the plant’s leaves. How was it supposed to nourish itself? Anyway, I left there, feeling as if this nursery woman, no, not nursery woman—just woman on the phone, had committed a heinous murder of vegetables—HOW DARE SHE!

We had to drive an extra ten miles to get to the second nursery. As we rounded the corner, I could see the place filled with plants, compost heaps across the yard, and the nursery woman was actually happy to see us. No begging to ask prices. No feeling as though I was a rude interloper when asking about various plants. As I settled on my purchases, I was comfortable knowing that she had actually cared about producing great plants instead of just making a buck. This was evident in the quality of them, the courteous service and her knowledgeable suggestions. Although I didn’t get the exact plants I wanted because of my tardiness, I left meeting a new gardener—someone who took pride in their work and was interested in living a holistic and a purposeful life.

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” A Tale of Two Cities

Take care, All—Hope you enjoyed the excursion into “A Tale of Two Cities,” one of my favorites.

If you’re interested in storing food, be sure to check out my new book. http://www.amazon.com/Nearly-Painless-Guide-Storage--Survival-Series-ebook/dp/B00KBCF5FC/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1402019915&sr=8-2&keywords=hillary+bergeron