Walking by Faith

Phil got up yesterday and did a wonderful, creative thing: he put overlapping screen material over the front door (so we fit between the two sides to go in and out), and he put screens on the windows that don’t have any, so the flies and mosquitoes can’t get in. Very nice.

We drove to two different houses of friends in order to get working internet. We had a long list of things we hoped to order online. It was one of those days: nothing was in stock, or it was too expensive, or it didn’t make sense, or the information was missing. Maybe ten things, from credit card reward money to fencing for pigs to checks from our new bank, went unordered. Frustrating!

Back at the land, Phil and Isaiah built the pallet enclosure for compost, and I got started on building a lasagna garden. (Well, first I planted a clove of garlic that had sprouted in a box I filled with leaf litter and rich composted tree material; we’ll see how that does.) A lasagna garden begins with a layer of newspaper or boxes, and I have plenty of boxes at present. The site we chose for our garden is upslope from our house; a level spot without any poison ivy (yay!). Currently part of it is covered with a mound of dirt from the bulldozer, so I am working on spreading that nicely overturned, friable dirt over the boxes, as well as all the decomposing organic matter on the soil surface, left over from the bush hogging of two weeks ago. (Bush hogging, in answer to a question, is like extremely serious mowing. Take an 80 horsepower tractor ($80,000) and a 15’ mower that can chop up trees 5” in diameter and watch the machinery level all the bushes on a site. When Butch got started mowing, he circled the finger of “cleared” land before going back and forth across it. We could hear his mower chewing up the brush, but we couldn’t see him for the overgrowth, even though he was only maybe 50 yards away at times. Incredible.)

Because I had the baby on my back, I didn’t get very far on the garden, but I have some time until the September rains begin in earnest. And I am getting close to the 60-day cutoff for first frost, but I get done what I can. The rains have returned, but I do not think they are expected to continue yet. We had the first rain since getting the tarp over our cooking area, and it sagged so badly we couldn’t open the doors to either of our trailers without tearing the tarp. Phil let it splash down, and then tightened the straps.

Dennis and the Bessettes came to help Phil move the piano from the POD to the storage part of the trailer. We hope to have the POD empty all the way, and picked up by next Monday or Tuesday. Abraham got a huge splinter from the bunk bed, so I held him and restrained him while Phil played surgeon.

I read about root cellar construction when I awoke in the middle of the night. It doesn’t sound too difficult, and we have a good site for one between the trailer and the garden; hopefully we can get that constructed soon.

Michelle and I picked a neighbor’s tomatoes and corn, then dehydrated some of the cherry tomatoes and cut up the rest for freezing, except for the few that we made into sauce. It took about three hours, and we had, in the end, two dehydrators’ worth of little raisin tomatoes, and about 16 cups apiece of frozen tomatoes (we had to leave some for the neighbor who grew them). There is a reason why people grow in quantity and specialize in one thing; those bags of tomatoes are very dear (expensive), when I think of what I could earn in an hour, let alone three, working.

The dryer at the Bessettes had not finished my clothes, so I took them back to the homestead and started hanging them to dry. I haven’t hung clothes to dry since Jadon was a baby, and had forgotten how long it took. Especially when dealing with a week’s worth of garments for six people. On a new clothesline that worked differently than I anticipated. I kept bursting into tears, feeling like all was hopeless and bleak. I did not admire the lovely view (all I could see was the uncovered former compost pile I had created that needs to be transferred to the new compost pile, but I need the wheelbarrow to be emptied of the 250 pounds of oats currently in it); I did not give thanks for the people I get to serve. Instead, I just broke out crying. Why are we doing this crazy life?

To make matters worse, Phil finally reached the county to get answers to his electrical questions. It turns out, to run the wire 600 feet from the box at the edge of our property to our trailer will be about $10,000. And we don’t own that wire. Somehow, legally, the electrical company will own it (though we bought it). So we basically pay $10,000 so the electrical company has the right to bill us for our use. Blah.

Shortly after all this sobbing and bad news, I fell asleep for 15 minutes. Maybe all the wakeful nights caught up with me.

I pulled poison ivy when I woke up. It is becoming satisfying labor. I find the leave-of-three (let it be) and pull, and the vine often pulls up several feet. How lovely to be gradually eradicating the nastiness. I have several spots on my arms and legs, and they are nasty looking, though they do not hurt or itch much (just at night). And I expanded—just a bit—the garden area. It is now maybe 10’x10’, and about 1” deep with friable dirt and organic matter. I think I am supposed to get to 12” or so, so I have my work ahead of me surely.

Phil read the graphic novel of Henry V (a slightly easier than original Shakespeare version) to the boys, who enjoyed it—mostly. And he hung up screen on the office, figured out what fencing we needed to order, removed the badly bowed desk in the office and replaced it with the not bowed desk he had removed from the house trailer, and watched the boys while Michelle and I worked.

Bible study was excellent. It was about faith: Luke 8:22-25, where Jesus calms the storm. I think what I came away with was that I do not have a strong faith, but that is because I don’t know the promises of the Lord to me. Or I want things to work out in my way, rather than saying, “Lord, you say you’ll complete the good work in me. You say you care for me, so I cast my cares on you. You say you’ll never leave us or forsake us—please be with me. You promise to give wisdom to those who ask; please give wisdom to me.”

Then we ordered fencing for chickens, goats, and pigs. When it arrives, we can get animals, and that will be nice! Doug Bush brought Phil a single mattress, so hopefully he will be able to get better sleep tonight. I think he’s getting too old to sleep on mats on the floor.

In answer to a question about the trees: we purchased apple trees that should grow to be, at the largest, about 15 feet tall. Several should top out at about 9 feet. Because of their small stature, they need to be planted maybe 8’ apart in rows, and 16’ apart in aisles, so 300 trees should fit in two acres, more or less. We are hoping that fruit can be our centerpiece money-making enterprise (mostly because I LOVE fruit! And fruit doesn’t bleed, which is helpful for blood-squeamish Phil and I). Two acres to begin with is a good amount—maybe a little too big—but a good starter.