I just reconnected with a dear friend I met overseas 20 years ago and haven’t seen since. I am quite delighted by this unexpected event. She is an interesting, artsy sort of person who likes to contemplate big questions and then fold her discoveries into film making. These days she is contemplating this: how does society destroy love? I have been thinking about this question of hers for several days. I think it has captured my imagination because it frames what we constantly think about and talk about here at Pockets of the Future a little differently than we usually frame it and that slight difference is shedding light for me.

What is the ground from which love springs? To start with, I believe that love and the ability to love (not be attached, mind you, but actually love) are natural to us. The ability to recognize love and be love is part of our Original Design. Therefore that which is unnatural takes us away from love and, given enough time and force, eventually destroys it. The ground of love is also characterized by simplicity, intimacy, and awareness. The atmosphere of love is one of purity and desirelessness. There is a timelessness to love and with that comes the ability to wait and to perceive correctly.

Love holds you accountable beyond all other ideas or obligations. It requires of you the maximum in all ways in terms of willingness, cooperation, patience, sacrifice and acceptance. Not because that which is loved demands those things of you but because your own loving heart demands those things of you. Love itself demands those things of you.

Within love, there can be no force, no willfulness, no profligate excess, no flagrant disconnection, no distraction, no noise. As long as love holds sway, any such tendencies will be thrown up to the surface to be washed away for there is no place for them. The ripples they cause within the ocean of love are disruptive. The ocean of love is mighty and moves to roll over and over such tendencies until they are polished back into love.

Ideally, human society would reflect the Original Design just as individuals most thrive by reflecting the Original Design. What would such a natural society look like? I have no idea. I have thought about this question since I was in graduate school studying social policy and yet I still have no idea. That is the unvarnished truth.

I do know, though, that it would not look at all like what we have going on right now. The goals of present day human society do not include anything to do with love, never mind fostering love. In fact I would go further and say that the goals of present day human society run precisely counter to love. Or perhaps it is ultimately the most accurate to say that love runs counter to virtually all aspects of present day human society and it is because of this and this alone that a great correction is in the offing.

The keywords characterizing present societies run along the lines of domination, profit mongering, control, an obsessive pursuit of physical comfort, fear, placation, instant gratification, ignorance, denial of reality, destruction of all natural resources both within and without, specialization, learned helplessness, disconnection - in short, immorality. Human society is built around taking from nature what nature is not designed to give over the long run. Human society is built around procuring for humans what is not in the best interest of humans to have. And it forcibly denies (both in terms of acknowledging and in terms of allowing) humans access to what is natural, right, congruent, loving.

I have been thinking of the specifics of this in terms of the life cycle. Pregnant women are “managed” and made to answer to the medical system of childbirth. Their access to appropriate care takers, foods and medicines and the time and atmosphere most suitable for pregnant women is regulated and denied them. Childbirth itself is an event dominated by technology and control which is by far and away not in the best interest of mother and infant. The powerful spiritual opportunity the natural intimacy between mother and infant provides and which is the foundation of the family, healthy childhood development and so on is methodically denied and destroyed.

Intimacy is a very delicate state. I remember back to when I had my first baby. My parents came to visit when she was just a couple of weeks old. Now my parents had never been interested in or supportive of children or family or marriage. Those things held little value for them. They were well traveled, educated people who needed to be entertained. They were not the kind of parents who came to help out. Rather they came to eat the best food and see the most interesting sights in the area and so on. Oh right, and see the baby. Now up to the point of their visit, my intimacy with my daughter was total but by the time my parents left three days later, not only was I exhausted but I detected a slight shift in myself. Even though my baby girl had been in my arms the whole three days, my attention had been forcibly drawn elsewhere and this had created a slight space in our intimacy. I only had the opportunity to see this because I went back to my old quiet ways with her immediately upon their leaving. The space was filled back in with loving intimacy right away because I saw it. This was an incredible revelation to me - the delicacy of intimacy. Whatever direction we start in, we tend to continue on with. A slight space or rift in our attention, our connection, our intimacy will lead to a rift and thence to distance unless we take corrective action. But to do that you have to see it and to see it, you have to stop and feel and take note and that society does not want us to do. This subtle intimacy is true of all important relationships (familial, spiritual and so on) and it brooks no master other than love itself. I don’t think many of us can even imagine any longer what it means to live within a web of truly intimate relationships.

We could go on and on through the entire life cycle like this. People get married at odd times and have children at even odder times in order to accommodate educational and professional schedules. Children are sent to schools to be tooled to fit into the industrial/technological economic model. Mothers and fathers are both out in the workplace earning and earning and earning. Families live in houses that are too big and filled with too much technology that fosters individual isolation rather than family togetherness and which sit empty most of the time. Health care revolves around technology, rules, ignorance and profit with natural, simple, timely approaches to health problems frequently outlawed. Care and instruction about health, child rearing and virtually all other endeavors of daily life comes from so-called experts and not from trusted family members or elders of the community. Older people are shuffled off into buildings and systems designed to manage them away from the hustle and bustle of a profit oriented society. And the land and nature? No connection whatsoever any more. Nature has been objectified into a sometimes recalcitrant provider of resources owed to the owners of production. People do not even know how to eat any more so how can they be expected to love? All relationships have been fractured. Society and, perhaps, particularly American society, pitches towards the system and away from intimacy, love and connection at all points of the day and the life cycle. As my husband frequently notes, present day society rewards sociopathic behavior and calls men with soft hearts weak. Many others note that highly intelligent, well educated women who choose to give themselves up to love and intimacy at home are said to be wasting their educations and lives. Where would love and intimacy, simplicity and awareness even come from under such conditions?

This kind of list is not new at all. What is new to me, however, is thinking of this endlessly negative list of how society functions so unnaturally as society methodically destroying love. And destroy love it must. You cannot control people who live by the dictates of love. When people are firmly grounded within familial and spiritual love and intimacy, they will not choose to sacrifice their ways of live in order to buy widgets. When people live close to the land in grateful reciprocity, they will not be as inclined to listen to foolishness. They know better. They still listen to their hearts. They can still recognize, at least a little bit, the difference between natural and artificial and know from long experience that natural is always better in the long run. (This pivots to a certain extent upon how you define the word natural which is a surprisingly interesting topic I will save for another post some day.)

All of this brings me to the vibrant reason we homestead here and homeschool and meditate and do so many other of the things that we do and talk about. We want real food, yes. We believe in our rights to self-determination from a political standpoint and revile NAIS or the watering down of the definition of organic or any attempts to control homeschooling and bring it back into the fold of profit and control, yes. We want our children to learn real life skills like milking a cow or reading the weather or designing and creating what they need for their daily lives themselves, yes. We know from experience that a life with a balance of physical efforts along with mental and all other efforts is a healthier life, yes. We can go on and on with this list too of why homesteading and homeschooling and slow cooking real food and living simply and so on are life affirming choices that promote intimacy and quiet awareness.

But really we homestead and homeschool to preserve love. We homestead and homeschool to preserve our family, to preserve our beautiful intimacy, to preserve our Divine heritage. We homestead and homeschool and live simply in order to have the space to create community, to create the quiet within which to hear what comes next, to create the future.

Someday, someday the phrase “society, love and homesteading” will not be a study in contrasts. Someday “society, love and homesteading” will be a phrase of natural congruity. And when that day comes, that phrase “society, love and homesteading” will be reduced to one single all important word.

Love.

The rest won’t matter. Societies and ways of life will be original, natural expressions of love and gloriously un-noteworthy because there will be just that one word and that will be enough.

From the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia,
Leslie

I seem to be writing about electricity usage a lot here lately. It is not that I am obsessed with the subject or anything. It is more that I don’t like the noise electrical appliances make and I am haunted by these darn utility bills that keep coming in each month demanding action. Imagine not having a utility bill. Wouldn’t that be grand?

I wrote recently about our attempt this winter to go frig-less. While I definitely want to try that again, now is not the best time. So instead I consolidated items and turned off our upright freezer. I was sort of sorry to do this because I actually prefer the freezer to the refrigerator for a variety of reasons. However it seems foolish to run both at the moment when we don’t have enough items to fill both so I turned off what I could - the freezer. I will be interested to see how much this lowers our bill.

Secondly, an online friend recently mentioned that her family is reducing the amount of time their computers are on in their home as a part of their efforts to reduce their electric bill. I was surprised by this. I would never have thought that computers used enough electricity to warrant severely limiting the time they are on, especially when you have appliances like refrigerators running anyway. I did a bit of research to learn more. How Much Electricity Do Computers Use? gives a detailed explanation of which computers use how much electricity and why. Questions About Computer Electrical Use From Readers is another article by Michael Bluejay which is also helpful although he notes that the former article is probably the one you are looking for. I found both useful to read. Finally, Can Computer Use Increase Electricity Bill a Lot? is a useful brief summary.

The short answer seems to be that energy usage depends upon how high powered the computer is, whether there are multiple graphics cards or not and so on. Either way, computers do not cost a lot to run. However, sleep mode was invented for a reason and should be used. It saves energy! Also turn off the speakers when you are not using them.

Reading this made me realize that the computer we recently set up upstairs for the children to use for homeschooling is set to automatically go into sleep mode after so many idle minutes. Our main computer, however, is not set up to do this. So my computer-y husband set it to do that. That felt good. Except that a couple of days later, the computer went into sleep mode and wouldn’t come out. I about had a heart attack… After turning the computer off twice, it finally responded by going into regular mode. Was that a Vista thing? Who knows. Too scary. My husband took it out of automatic sleep mode in short order. I put it into sleep mode manually sometimes when I think of it and that hasn’t caused any problems so far.

I guess I will mostly stick to living without a freezer for now and let it go at that. Meanwhile, there are always lights on around that could stand to be turned off!

From the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia,
Leslie

Today as I was grinding grain to make bread, I glanced over at the shelf that holds our garlic. It was empty!

I thought, “Oh no, what can we possibly do about that? How will we go without garlic when we use it so much?”

A moment later I realized, “Oh yeah, not too long ago we chose to go without garlic for months and months and did just fine. I guess this is not a big deal. Whew.”

This made me laugh. See how the mind works? It contains so many entrenched ideas about what we have to have that even strong, successful experiences of living without an item or condition can be quickly forgotten.

Hopefully my sometimes limited mind will catch up to my actual expansive experiences sometime soon …

From the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia,
Leslie

I just came across this project and want to quickly share it.

The front page says:

By watching and recording the bees at sunflowers in your garden, you can help us understand the challenges that bees are facing. We’ll be sending out annual Lemon Queen sunflower seeds in early March 2009. Just in time to plant!

* It takes less than 30 minutes.
* It’s easy.
* Free Sunflower seeds for planting.
* No knowledge of bees required!

Enter your bee counts online or send us your paper form.
We would love to have you join us; let’s help our most important pollinators together!

If you signed up in 2008, we will send you seeds again this spring. We’ll send you an email this winter to confirm your mailing address and if you respond, your seed will go out in late March or early April.

We love having beekeepers participate.

The site is very simple and has additional great information such as the ecological importance of bees and of this project, tips for growing a bee garden, a bee guide, and quite a few great looking educational resources for the (home or school) classroom.

Joining is free and so is the packet of seeds they send you. Once the sunflowers flower, you go out and observe them once a week and time how long it takes for five bees to come work their magic. Then you send in your data (data sheets provided). There is even a map on the site showing locations of the first 26,000 people who are signed up to participate and a forum where participants can share questions, observations and educational ideas.

What a neat project to be a part of and how important it will be to get a national ongoing map of bee activity. It says on the site that a bee is responsible for every third bite of food. Anyone who needs real food needs real bees. And personally, anything that gets us closer to bees here on Natural Path Farm is most welcome.

So go sign up, if you can, and we will work together!

From the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia,
Leslie

When you stop to consider rainwater, you realize that it is nothing short of crazy to not collect it somehow!

I have had putting together a rainwater catchment system (gosh, that sound official doesn’t it?) on my list of things to-do for years and years. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet, I guess, and neither have we gotten around to footing the bill for special rain barrels or cisterns or whatever other equipment is now considered necessary for “harvesting” the rain. And yet all this time the rain falls and we miss it.

In addition to our snug little 1940 farmhouse, there is another small two-room house just a few yards behind our house. It is rather tumbledown and we use it for storage and to hold tools and feed and so on. We all call it “the granny house” only because our then 9 year old started calling it that when we moved in. We understand nothing about why it is there but it does have a nice metal roof and is tucked under two very large chestnut trees. In the fall, the chestnuts fall off and bounce off that roof with a loud thumpity-bump before they smartly smack the ground but I digress. In the spring, the snow on it melts slowly and cascades down to the ground with no organized results whatsoever.

A couple of weeks ago, I was investigating a new publication by Yesterday’s Classics called The Sandman, His Farm Stories by William J. Hopkins (find it on the bottom of the page in the lefthand column). This is a collection of bedtime stories told over and over again to a young boy sometime before 1902 when this book was first published. Each story is very small, proceeds very slowly and provides each little detail of the actions and way of country life from earlier in the last the century. It is almost hypnotizing to read these carefully paced stories but for me it is also fascinating because learning the details of that way of life is important to me.

The first chapter is called The Oxen Story and is about fetching water with which to wash the clothes. After describing the farmhouse, it proceeds thusly:

Not far from the kitchen door was a well, with a bucket tied by a rope to the end of a great long pole. And when they wanted water, they let the bucket down into the well and pulled it up full of water. They used this water to drink, and to wash faces and hands, and to wash the dishes; but it wasn’t good to wash clothes, because it wouldn’t make good soap-suds. To get water to wash the clothes, they had a great enormous hogshead at the corner of the house. And when it rained, the rain fell on the roof, and ran down the roof to the gutter, and ran down the gutter to the spout, and ran down the spout to the hogshead. And when they wanted water to wash the clothes, they took some of the water out of the hogshead.

But when it had not rained for a long time, there was no water in the hogshead. Then they got out the drag and put a barrel on it, and the old oxen came out from the barn, and put their heads down low; and Uncle John put the yoke over their necks, and put the bows under and fastened them, and hooked the chain of the drag to the yoke.

See this? It was unthinkable to them to use well water to wash their clothes. Isn’t that interesting? As much other work as they had to do, if they ran out of rainwater in the hogshead (this was a large cask or barrel, by the way, which also became a unit of measure), they hooked up the oxen and went to the river to get another barrel of soft water. In fact the rest of this story details exactly that and ends with:

And the next morning, when they wanted water to wash their clothes, there was the barrel of water, all ready.

Even now, many people know that it is easier to wash in soft water (i.e. rainwater) than in hard water (i.e. well water). Some folks go to the trouble of installing water softeners but how many would go to the trouble of actually collecting the appropriate water? And how aware are we of how much better it is to use rainwater for washing clothes if our clothes are always washed for us by a machine hidden away in a dark corner of our house?

This passage from The Sandman stayed on my mind these last weeks. Then last week it snowed quite a bit while Friday was warm and sunny. I was outside hanging laundry when my attention was drawn to the steady dripping of the snow melting off the roof of the granny house. Somehow I just couldn’t stand it any more and was galvanized into action. I went tearing into the basement and ransacked the place looking for empty storage bins. I found two large ones, raced back outside with them and put them under the best spots of melted snow water coming off of the roof. By the next day, there was enough water in them to do one load of laundry.

Yesterday my husband carried the bins in for me and poured the water into the wash tub and the two rinse buckets. Watching him pour that fresh water into our hitherto only filled by well/tap water vessels filled me with awe. It was a gift purely and freely given. All I had to do was stick a bin outside and precious soft water was waiting there next day. It seemed almost magical or Divine or something. Perhaps rain water has a charge that well water just doesn’t. I don’t know. I didn’t expect to have such a strong reaction.

Then came the next reaction - that water was ice cold! It was so cold that it took some time for the laundry soap to disperse. It was cold enough that my thyroid deprived self felt a a shock so my husband helped out a bit with the laundering. I couldn’t help myself, though, and I helped with the rinsing. I just wanted to experience that water. So even with all of the snowy cold, the clothes sparkled and I was put into a state of wonder.

In the summer, this will be easier for me because not only will the water be freely given but so will enough heat to at least bring the rain water to something close to body temperature. Two gifts from nature just to wash our clothes. Imagine that. It makes me feel so grateful.

It’s not like I am morally opposed to using well water or anything. It just occurs to me, though, that well water is taken by extraction or force while rain water is freely given. Perhaps we should at least attempt to use the latter first before falling back on the former?

Rain for uses other than watering gardens is one of those things that is easy to overlook. It is easy to miss the fact that it is one of the most significant gifts freely given by Nature to all of creation here. It is easy to overlook until you stop to consider rain water …

From the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia,
Leslie

I am sure that those of you who hang your laundry out to dry even in the winter are familiar with the problem I am about to mention.

Laundry hung out during the winter does not dry all that fast. On a warmish, breezy day, if you get it hung early enough, some of it may actually dry completely. Some of it won’t though. If, like me, you are combining washing your laundry by hand with homeschooling and baking all of your bread, you may find that on some days you don’t get it hung out all that early which just compounds the winter conditions. On other days, it is too cold for the laundry to dry anyway. The water in the fabric freezes and then it takes forever to dry. (One remedy for this particular problem is to go out and hit your laundry with a stick, knocking out the ice. Then much more of the water still remaining in the fabric has a chance to evaporate. I personally try to dry my laundry inside on days that are that cold as the wood burning stove would definitely be blazing away anyway.)

Anyway, at the ends of such half and half kinds of winter days in which the weather is half and half and the laundry itself is half dry and half not, I have a very hard time figuring out if any given item is just cold or if it is still damp. Do I hang it to dry some more or fold it and put it away? I probably comment on this every single time I bring the laundry in during the winter months.

About an hour ago, I set the floor dryer up by the wood burning stove in the kitchen and started to sort through the laundry I had just brought in. Carolyn, my 17 year old, was standing at the kitchen sink finishing up making the butter. I exclaimed for the millionth time, “Gosh, I just can’t tell if this shirt is cold or damp.”

She turned to me and said, “Rub it against your cheek. We just learned that in my pottery class. If you put a clay piece that is still damp in the kiln, it will explode. So you have to be very sure that it is completely dry. Our cheeks are more sensitive than our fingers so we learned to rub a piece against our cheek to make very sure that it is dry before firing it.”

“Oh. OK. That makes sense.”

So I tried it. I rubbed a few pieces of clothing against my cheek. They felt dry to my fingers and to my cheek. Hmmm … However, I was also aware that I could really feel the weave of the fabric against my cheek in a way that I couldn’t with my fingers. Interesting. Next I picked up a big shirt of my husband’s. I felt it with my fingers. Damp? Cold? Couldn’t tell. I rubbed it against my cheek and TA DA - it was clearly damp! I almost jumped it was so obviously damp against my cheek!

Wonderful. Now I have a method for determining damp/cold and another small yet niggling problem of daily life is solved. I am grateful for this simple (and completely portable!) solution and wanted to make note of it here and share it with any of you who struggle with this same difficulty with winter laundry. I am also grateful for the “associative property” of nature. Many solutions are there if we observe nature closely and then correctly apply what we learn to what appears to us as separate categories of life (but probably really aren’t).

Finally I want to say, “Thank you, Carolyn.” It obviously takes a family to raise a mother.

From the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia,
Leslie

A few months ago, I was really keen on unplugging the refrigerator and making a go of learning to do without one, at least until our cow calved and we were deluged with milk. My husband was reluctant because these innovations always mean more work (both mentally and physically). He rightly pointed out that we were already pretty overwhelmed trying to manage what we already had going on and that going without a refrigerator is probably a pretty big project. At least at first until you get the hang of it.

“Yes, that is all true,” I said, “but this would otherwise be such a great time to try this out. Our refrigerator is practically empty these days which is expensive to maintain and it is freezing outside so we can use our breezeway to keep some foods close to the kitchen. Please could we try?”

He graciously agreed and we did try it out. First I did some rearranging with his broad shouldered help. We have a freezer in the basement which was situated clear across on the opposite side from the stairs ever since we moved in for reasons lost to me now. I asked him to please move it to the plug near the foot of the basement stairs (which lead from the kitchen). I then rearranged our food shelves down there so that I could empty a smaller one and move it next to the freezer right at the foot of those stairs. This would give pretty good access from the kitchen to cool storage and frozen items.

The door next to the basement door in the kitchen is the outside door leading to a breezeway (at least that is what we call it). It is like an indoor hallway with windows. It was empty when we bought the place but not too long after moving in, my husband installed shelves down one wall under the windows and hooks along the opposite wall. It is filled to the brim with boots and shoes and coats and bins of hats and mittens and jars of children’s experiments as well as some tools and the odd outside toy interspersed with lovely bits of wood and stone that have caught the children’s fancy. I rearranged the shelves to clear a few feet of a shelf right next to the kitchen door. I also reclaimed a cooler that was out in the “granny house” holding grit for the hens and put it in the breezeway also.

Then one Wednesday morning after family prayer but before launching into homeschooling, we all went into the kitchen and watched while my husband ceremoniously unplugged the refrigerator. Ah, the kitchen filled with quiet. Blessed quiet. I love the quiet that only a loss of power can give (both materially and spiritually now that I think of it) and I was glad.

Things went pretty well for a couple of weeks. We put the gallon milk jars out in the breezeway. We weren’t getting enough eggs from our hens to live on so I put the already refrigerated grocery store variety in the cooler with ice from the freezer. I put cream and buttermilk in there too. Produce went on the food shelves at the foot of the basement stairs. Yeast and seeds and so on went in the freezer down there. Ketchup and a few other things went in a cupboard in the hutch in the dining room. Everything accounted for, except maybe leftovers.

We ran into a couple of problems. One is that the breezeway which is unheated and otherwise perfect for this use has a wall of south facing windows. This meant that there were lots of days - even in the cold of January - when it simply got too warm in there to keep food and milk sufficiently cold. The other problem was that having leftovers that have to be eaten right away changes meal plans and creates a degree of unpredictability. Paul and I have both spent a lot of time learning to cook so that there WILL be leftovers (which takes some doing for a farming family of eight). Now suddenly leftovers were sort of a liability. Furthermore, we were used to having some time pass between meals of the same food. Now, especially with a breezeway that got unpredictably warm at times, we needed to instantly get used to eating the same thing until it was gone. Somehow the “instantly” part of the equation didn’t get figured in.

Finally my adrenal fatigue got worse again and I started to lose track of it all. The weather warmed up a bit. My husband wanted to put his attention into other things. We had some leftovers go bad which just can’t happen here. We need every scrap. So Paul made an executive decision and plugged the refrigerator back in. I was ridiculously disappointed which he was very understanding about. And there you have it - two and a half grand weeks without a refrigerator to mind our food for us.

As I am writing this, it still doesn’t seem like it should be that hard. For me, it was the adrenal fatigue with resulting lack of mental energy that did me in. It takes some doing to implement a new system until it becomes second nature. I need enough energy to get from “new system” to “second nature.” I also need to tweak how we store the food. South facing windows is a deal breaker. Maybe we could get a second cooler? Maybe I could use the freezer more for leftovers? That just leaves the milk. We don’t have much now because, as I reported earlier, our cow turns out not to be pregnant. But sometime we will have a cow in full milk. Yikes. That will really be something to deal with. Actually this place has a spring house but there no longer is any water flowing in there. We don’t know if we can do anything about that or not and need to research it.

Lessons learned from this experiment?
One lesson is knowing from experience how much we love the quiet that settles after a refrigerator is turned off. One morning my husband woke up and thought for a minute that he was at an ashram. It was just that peaceful.
Another lesson I experienced is how great I felt not having to depend upon a big metal box to keep my food stores good. I was surprised at how much this affected me. I really felt more “self sufficient” in a very tangible, daily life sort of way. It felt GREAT!
A third lesson is that houses are not built for this just as they are no longer built for wood heat. You need a north facing storage area or pantry that is accessible from within the house, preferably the kitchen. After the fact adaptations require thought and planning. For instance, we have a small north facing front porch with a cement floor but it is entirely open with just a little roof over it. That might make a good storage area but we have no idea how to suitably enclose it and not have an eyesore as a result.
A fourth lesson for me is to think long term and get more geared up with making lacto-fermented veggies and sprouts. I need to do this anyway as I think it is really important for our health. Having these two food preparation skills fine tuned, habitual and a long term part of our natural way of eating will smooth out storing produce during the winter a little bit.
A fifth lesson has something to do with leftovers and my rhythm in the kitchen. For as long as I have a freezer, I could perhaps just stick leftovers in there even if they are going to be used day after next. And/or I could change my rhythm in the kitchen so that almost everything is cooked fresh and eaten on the spot (makes me tired just writing that). And/or I could start thinking more in terms of immediately transforming leftovers into something seemingly new for next day. What did folks do in the so-called old days? I imagine they ate what they had until it was gone. They also probably had stronger digestions and could eat beans every day. Some members of my family cannot do that. So ultimately the lesson here in this category is that I haven’t figured the lesson out yet! I will have to keep working on it and get really geared up for our next attempt.

This is tough for me because right now our frig is practically empty and it is cold and snowing like crazy outside. This would be a good time to have the refrigerator off, right? But I think it is foolish to keep turning it on and off. That would be like dating in that it pulls for failure. No, I have to be fully prepared, my husband has to be fully on board, and then we will definitely succeed.

In sum, then, we LOVED having the refrigerator off but it took more than we were ready for to make a long term success of it. However, I cherish living fridgeless as a goal for the future. So I will wait patiently, improve my adrenal fatigue somehow or other, learn some new food preparation and food storage skills, make long term plans that take fridgeless living into account, think more creatively, do a bit more research and then pounce when the timing is right.

Oh, I am really looking forward to it.

From the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia,
Leslie