In Sickness and Health

After a week of a head splitting earache and sore throat, I am finally feeling a little more like myself. This is a good thing because I am a very grumpy, impatient sick person.

I had huge plans after my trip to New York City with my friend, Nancy and my sister, Brenda. It was a blast, by the way!  Nancy was a wonderful tour guide and the 3 of us had so much fun laughing and seeing all the sights. 

 

I was going to eat right, start exercising religiously and jump back on the health wagon when I returned, but the powers that be had other plans. Enter sore throat and earache.  I made a huge pot of chicken vegetable soup and ate it for every meal while I sat on my rear whining to anyone who would listen.  I'm sick of soup, by the way.  JR had his own illness that caused him to cough and cough and cough some more.  Luckily I didn't pick that one up from him although it almost drove me out of my mind.

I did accomplish some things: I almost finished a book called Foodist by Darya Rose. She is a scientist who balances healthy eating and exercise using common sense and psychology.  It was OK, but not a mind blowing revelation or anything.  I did like her and thought she had a great sense of humor tho. 

I have a cookbook I add to with my favorite recipes throughout the years and I revised my index. This was long overdue.  I also moved a zillion pictures to Snapfish off my thumb drives.

I was always a loyal Shutterfly user, but for some reason the uploading of my photos quit working. I was beginning to feel frantic because I take a LOT of pictures and use the internet as my back up to my back up. I share pictures, order books and photos and gifts from there as well.

I perused the internet looking for a substitution and found a site where a photographer had rated all of the online photo sites.  She ordered a picture she took with her camera from each of the sites including Wal-Mart, Walgreens and CVS and rated the quality.  MPix rated extremely high, along with Snapfish. Shutterfly was near the bottom, by the way.  Who knew?  Snapfish seemed a little more user friendly to me, so I went with them.   It is a slow process, adding photos, but I feel so much safer knowing my photos are all downloaded.  What would I do without them?  lol

  

This morning I woke, ear tender, but not screaming at me, feeling MUCH better with more energy.  I had put almonds to soak in water the evening before to try my hand at making almond milk.  I have bought it from the store many times, cooked with it and used it in my cereal and liked it.  My stomach can tolerate a little dairy milk, but if I have a full glass, I start feeling ill.  Multiple recipes for almond milk are on the internet and it looked fairly easy.  It was easy, although my kitchen looks like there was an explosion, but that's nothing new when I cook. 

Since I had a mess already, I also tried my hand at Almond Flour Pancakes.  They were good!  I'm sure there are a gazillion calories in them, but if ever there were an apocalypse, I know now I can cook with the crazy amount of bags of almonds I have, making milk and bready products for us.  :)

 

I'm not sure if my drive towards self-sufficiency comes from all the time I spent with my Depression Era Grandma growing up, or what. 

But anything we can do towards caring or providing for my family and friends by ourselves, on our property, completely fills me with satisfaction.  Hanging the clothes on the line, growing our own food, planting fruit trees, composting our scraps, ordering medications for us and the animals for future use, cutting firewood, decorating with cedar branches, it all makes me so happy. 

Self-sufficiency.  Simplicity.  Health.  Love. It's where it's at.

Next stop:  Mini Donkeys!!!

Settled

We have been in the country the full month of September.  I think the longest we have ever slept here before was 3 nights in a row, but I can honestly say this was the right decision for us to make.  I don't know when I have felt this content. 

There are things I hate: 
dead rodents being carried in my dogs mouth, this is #1
rustling noises in the woods next to me while I am walking
sand/dirt being carried into the house
dogs not listening when we walk past the polo horse lady
wild animals acting like I am not there and getting too close, mostly birds
JR scaring and yelling at me every time he sees a snake

I think that's it.

I thought I was going to be a nervous wreck when JR left on a trip for work. 4 days ago he received the call to go to Mongolia and it's been OK.  Yes, the dogs felt the need to kill an armadillo in front of me the first evening I was here alone which caused me to sprint back to the cabin just in case they wanted to show me;  the second night I came upon a family of 6 Mexicans fishing off our dock; and the third night there was a storm, but I did OK.  I am OK.

My daughter, Morgan, drove over an hour to spend yesterday with me.  I didn't think being alone really bothered me, but 30 minutes after her arrival she laughed and said, "Have you been lonely?  You haven't stopped talking since I got here."  :)  It was fun having her here and it meant a lot that she took her time to come.  She is becoming a close friend and I cherish this.

After Morgan left, I spent the remainder of the day digging up a Post Oak, digging a hole for the Post Oak in cement like ground, preparing dirt with compost and burying the Post Oak.  Afterwards I dug up 2 Water Oaks and potted them with compost,  THEN I pulled out my Texas Tree book and went on the internet to find out what kind of trees I had just planted/potted.  It's at this point I found out I had transplanted a Post Oak who hates being transplanted, hates being fertilized and basically hates being messed with.  I also found out if you leave them alone where they grow, in most conditions they can live up to 400 years.  Maybe I didn't irritate it too badly?  Maybe?    I also found out the Water Oaks I transplanted into pots were considered junk trees; messy, with a short life span.  Great.

You didn't think I was planting a Post Oak TREE, did you?  Haha.  I guess I should have said sapling. 

As I was perusing my book and internet for information, I looked up the name of a bush we have in multiple areas here.  It is the coolest looking plant and is called:  American Beautyberry.  What a name!!!  I guess the Native Americans used a decoction (I had to look this word up) of the root bark as a diuretic; the leaves for dropsy; a tea from the roots for dysentery and stomach aches; A tea made from the roots and berries for colic; and, the leaves and roots in sweat baths for the treatment of malaria, rheumatism and fevers. Goodness!  You can also take the leaves and use them externally as mosquito repellent. From what I have read, the berries are tasteless, but NOT poisonous.  Good to know. 

 Today is only one example of why I love it here.  After eating a terrific homemade breakfast omelet with Morgan, I got to spend the day actively digging in the dirt, using compost we have made from vegetable scraps (and a little help from the rabbits), and researching.  Sure I didn't like everything I read, but now I know!  I also made myself a wonderful fish taco, a cucumber salad and drank fresh lemonade made from the juice of lemons from our tree in League City. 

We have no regrets. We were meant to be here.

Why Do We Have So Much Stuff?

We are in the final days of moving our belongings to Giddings.  I have downsized everything we own: clothes, dinnerware, bedding, furniture, toys, cosmetics, pantry items, holiday decorations, appliances. You name it, I went through it. It was either sold, given away or donated.   So please tell me, WHY AM I STILL DROWNING IN STUFF???  I can see I am going to have to go through what I have already gone through. The thought is not appealing.

Yesterday we dropped off a larger load of mostly kitchen and pantry items, my 2 major hoarding areas, and I felt so overwhelmed.  All of this stuff was NOT fitting in here, so I sat on the recliner and watched an episode of House of Cards instead.  I will have time to sort through everything and wiggle it into the space provided after we get the rest of our things up here tomorrow. 

At first it was easy; glasses go here, plates go there, this drawer for utensils, and now we have the blender, the food processor, the toaster, the hand mixer, the 22 boxes of tea, why do I have so many boxes of tea???  I barely even drink tea.  And how many coffee cups do I really need, anyhow? 

Luckily the girls visited last weekend and I could get rid of some other pantry items.  Protein powder, I must have had 5 containers and I don't even use it.  I have never used Chia seeds, but I had 4 jars in my pantry.  I can't remember the last time I drank cocoa and I had 4 or 5 boxes.  Sweettarts, the big bags from Valentine's day, 4 bags of those and they scare me to eat them because of my teeth cracking.  So you would think I had a reasonable amount of pantry items now?  No.  I still have 10 cans of green beans, at least that many of black, kidney, pinto, Ranch, etc. etc. etc.

And my clothes closet!  YIKES!  I have donated bags and bags of clothes to Goodwill and I'm afraid to open my doors without everything exploding.  I bought 2 over the door shoe organizers, 24 pair of shoes, and I was still chucking shoes on the floor of the closet, along with my boots, my workout gear, my magazines and my Rubbermaid drawers. 

Time to rethink.  Time to prioritize. Time to renew. 

Hi Mom

I had a dream about you last weekend at the cabin.  I lived in my house in CA and the mail lady delivered my mail up two streets.  I got in my car and drove over there and the mailbox was the type with a big hinged door like Post Offices have.  When I opened it up, the mailbox was full of presents from you.  You know how you did, wrrapped up every little thing you could find in cheap, ugly paper and then write our names on the scraps, on  the white side, and tape them to the present. 

One said "Brenda Bear", (I have no idea where that came from), another said "JR", another said "Pam" written in your hand writing with the cursive P like you did. 

The woman who lived in the house came out and was helping me with the presents and she said, "Oooh, this is ruined, I'll throw it out."  I glanced down and it was a letter written from you on white lined paper in black ink.  It had a few holes like it had been dragged across something rough.  I grabbed the note from the woman and said, "NO!  You can't!  She's dying!!!"  And when I looked up, she was you.  And we hugged and I could feel you.

I woke up crying.  Hating and loving the dream at the same time.  Days later, I still don't think I'm completely back to normal.

The hard thing is I think I am doing fine dealing with losing you day to day and then I will have a dream like this. All of these feelings of loss come rushing back and I am consumed by sadness all over again.  But seeing you is incredible, so please don't stop doing whatever you are doing if you are the one doing it.  We all miss you so much, Mom.  We really do.

Simplifying to the Extreme

Moving from a 2000 sq ft home (plus 2 car garage), to an 880 sq ft cabin (with no garage), is not an easy feat, especially when you presently store 3000 sq ft of stuff in 2000 sq ft. of space.  Let's not forget, the cabin is already full of it's own furniture, pans, decorations, appliances, electronics, rugs, toothbrushes, etc.  So to be technical, I am actually trying to fit close to 4000 sq ft of goods in under 1000 sq ft.

I am blessed with the gift of storage.  I know how to fold, stack, rotate and hide things to get the most out of my space.  I LOVE organizing!  Taking a jumbled mess of pens, paper, paperclips, etc., and making a tidy display of them fills me with content, but my ability can only go so far. It was time to purge.

Not terribly long ago, I would make gargantuan quantities of lasagna, chicken pot pies or soup and freeze for later meals.  I am anti-plastic, so there was no Ziploc or Tupperware. I had six 13" X 9" glass pans, eight glass and metal bread pans of varying sizes, four 8" sq glass pans, 6 glass pie plates, canning jars galore, you get the idea.  This began the seemingly never ending task of downsizing.  I asked my daughter if she needed any pans and after she took what she could use, I was still left with quite a pile.

This left me with a dilemma, what do I do with everything I am de-cluttering?

I turned to Facebook and searched for virtual yard sales around my area. I came up with six different groups with over 6,000 members and started joining.  After being accepted, I took pictures of my unwanted items, posting them with prices and details on each group. Thus began my 3 month journey of the most annoying time in my life. 

I am incredibly anal.  I am structured.  I am impatient.  I answer all of my emails and messages promptly.  I hate people who aren't true to their word.  I trust people.  I believe a person when they say they will be at my home at 3:00 pm. 

Never have I been stood up by so many people, then ignored when I try to contact them to see where they are.  I am not exaggerating.  For every person who came to my home to pick up an item, there were 10 more that didn't show, had an emergency, got called in to work, got in an accident, whose child was sick, chipped a tooth, twisted their ankle or disappeared from the face of the earth.  This is fine, you can have all the catastrophes you like, but TELL ME!!!  Cancel the meeting BEFORE the meeting time.  When you are supposed to be at my home at 2:00 pm and are still waiting at the Doctors office at 2:15 pm when I contact you to see if you are on your way, you will not be making the 2:00 pm appointment you set.  LET ME KNOW!!!  I tried so hard to blow it off, but every time it happened, I felt like screaming!

I had my first ocular migraine caused by, you got it, stress. 

I am $3,500 richer and besides my quadruple stroller which sold for $650, the majority of my items sold between $10 and $20.  You do the math.  This is how many people I have had interactions with. I only have a few more sell-able items, so I think I will make it out alive, thankfully.

Down-sizing has always been something I have been drawn to.  It thrills me to think I will only be surrounded by things I love, things I use.  It pleases me to know when I open a cupboard, I will like every single coffee cup in there. To look up from my book and see artwork made by my Mom or an antique egg basket perched just so, it warms my heart.  

But in the meantime, I open a drawer and there are seven twist ties,  two rubber bands, three pens that don't work, four burned candles and a ripped hot pad staring at me.  Why in the world do I have these things?  I am going to blame this on my Grandmother who lived through The Depression and has been a strong influence in my life.

From the age of two to four, I lived with Grandma and Grandpa in Kunesh, WI from Mon to Fri.  My Mom was recently divorced from my Father, had three children to support and no financial help.  My older two sisters were in school, but I was too young, although they did squeak me in to kindergarten at four which was more common back then.  My Mom worked at St Norbert's College in the library, making what little she could and Grandma was a huge help to her.

My Grandmother had my Mom and then a few years later, while quite pregnant with another child, was kicked in the stomach by a cow.  The baby died.  In the 1940's, they let the baby naturally make it's exit.  By the time this finally happened, it had ruined my Grandma's uterus and in her mid 20's, she had to have a hysterectomy.  My Mother was an only child to a woman who wanted a dozen.

Many years later, along came my sisters and I, but my Father was a wanderer and they moved from city to city, state to state, while he worked and abused her. This resulted in the end of their marriage and the return to Wisconsin of my Mother.  From this unhappy story comes a truly wonderful life for me because I found in my Grandmother a woman who had all the time in the world, and the desire to show me how much she loved me during a hectic, stressful time for my Mother.

Back to my original point, my Grandma lived through The Depression and every Cool Whip container or bit of string that crossed her path became a permanent resident in her home.  I am not quite that extreme, but I do have hoarder tendencies.  Sadly, I am married to a pack rat as well who comes from pack rack parents.  We started our marriage making $11,000 a year with a baby on the way.  Sometimes there is a reason for the madness, but it was time to adjust and realize you do not need to keep a box of shoe strings from shoes you wore 30 years ago.

Every item that leaves here, is an item no longer requiring my attention, my space or my upkeep.  It is incredibly freeing to donate blankets I never really liked in the first place.  It is uplifting to see someone squeal with delight when they purchase an item which has been sitting in the corner gathering dust for ages.  It is amazing to open a cabinet door and see a bare shelf.

But, Dear Lord!  I have so much stuff!  It is easy getting rid of things you never really enjoyed in the first place, but then comes the tough stuff.  The mahogany hall tree you found in an antique store that fit perfectly at the foot of the stair after you bought your first home, the oil painting you always admired which hung in your book store and clothes, strangely, clothes were very difficult to part with.  Remembering where you wore something and where you might want to wear it again.  This is hard.

Closet space is minimal in the cabin.  We built it with weekends in mind, but I continue to remind myself it is larger than the apartment we shared when we were first married.  We have bought under-bed storage containers for the things we just have to have and this past weekend JR was busy building me a spice rack in the "pantry" to free up some cupboard and drawer space.  I'm pleased!

Every weekend we go to the cabin, I bring back items I had thought we would need there.  I also bring items from home, see if they fit or look good and sometimes bring those back, too. I try to make a quick run to Goodwill once back home to get them out of here before I change my mind.

Sometimes I need to talk myself into getting rid of something.  I will leave it front and center and force myself to deal with it.  For instance, my ceramic 3 bowl set from Williams Sonoma.  I have a whole set of L. L.  Bean bowls, plates, cups, flour and sugar containers, cookie jar, you name it.  I do not need another set of bowls even if they are Williams Sonoma and graduating in size and pretty and I have a bowl fetish, I do NOT need them.  And they are big.  So I left them out on my counter at home in League City and I had to keep working around them.  Finally I couldn't stand it.  I took their picture and they were gone by that afternoon.  And it felt good!  They were JUST bowls!  Bowls I did not need.  It takes time, but the more I release from my space, the better I feel.

There are items I can't get rid of.  Photo Albums.  I have taken pictures our whole marriage.  I have put every worthy photo in an album in order.  Remember the anal retentive comment above?  I have approx. 20 photo albums and this is after I gave the girls their five or so photo albums EACH I had made for them from the day they were born until they graduated.  I am boxing ours up for our future storage closet, but I kept out two blank books to fill once we move.  I can't help myself.  Other smaller items: My Grandpa's horseshoe trophy, my Mom's tiara she wore when marrying my Dad, my Dad's ceramic vase he kept his #2 incense in, a smell that will always remind me of him, some tiny antique shoes given to me by Mom, things like this.  I really don't have a place for them, but I will find a place.  

So there you have it.  De-cluttering at its not so finest.  I have someone coming tomorrow for a newer twin mattress I have in a not so new antique frame I refinished for my youngest daughter over 20 years ago.  I got it from my eldest daughter's friend's Mom for $25 and stripped then stained it.  But it's just a frame and the little girl who slept in that bed is now close to graduating college and we don't need it anymore.

I'm turning into a sentimental old fool. 

Taking the Plunge

30 Years!  JR and I have discussed country living for 30 years.  I say, discussed, because we have never actually lived in the country unless you count the trailer we lived in on the outskirts of Swansboro, NC soon after we were married.  It had trees and an opossum.

We have dabbled in country things.  We had rabbits, we have had gardens, we have planted many fruit trees,  JR has had bees, I have composted our scraps and made bread from scratch.  I have canned and made jelly, (not very well), and tried my hand at dehydrating and jerky, but we have always lived in the suburbs.

We first bought acreage shortly after 9-11 in 2001.  9-11 scared me, heck! it scared everyone.  I wasn't going to possibly have something horrible happen without doing what I had always dreamed before I left this earth.  We purchased 25 acres in a tiny town called Kirtley with every intention of someday moving there.

I loved it.  It had a pond, a creek, mature pecan trees and even a cemetery with a few bodies from over 100 years ago.  There wasn't a house, so we bought a porta-potty and the 5 of us, JR, me and our 3 daughters, slept in tents.  JR rented a tractor a few times a year to keep everything mowed, but we had no country equipment of any kind.  We started coming up with ideas of how we could make a living out there and make this dream of country living a reality. We visited cabin builders, drew plans, talked to a zillion different people about how they did it, but we made no firm decisions. 

One of our brain storms was to manage a trailer park, but the Kirtley property wasn't set up for large campers or RVs being pulled in or out, so I started looking for other property online.  3 years after buying our place in Kirtley country, we came across acreage in Giddings.  22 acres of wooded land with all sorts of different trees: oaks, pines, cedars, persimmon, mesquite, chinaberry, etc.  It had a 2 acre pond which was originally dug at 30 feet, a year round creek, a dry creek, and it was surrounded by farm land. 

I dismissed it immediately because this property was way too heavily treed for an RV park and I didn't want to cut down a bunch of perfectly good trees for a bunch of campers.  But JR was excited and would not stop going on about how perfect it was and how he could shoot out there and about all the water and trees it had and how it was so much prettier than our land in Kirtley.

I was mad.  I was furious, actually.  We were moving to Kirtley.  All my dreams revolved around Kirtley and building a home and the placement of everything I might ever want out there. So I pouted, but Giddings had a nicer piece of property, so I grudgingly went along with putting the Kirtley property up for sale and starting the process of buying the acreage in Giddings.

One day while out in Kirtley, a woman, who was a professor in Houston, drove up with her 2 dogs and said she was interested in purchasing the property.  I sat on our picnic table glaring at her while JR took her on a tour to all the prettier spots.  She bought it.  She bought it and built a tiny weekend home on it with a fenced area for her dogs.  I know this because anytime we are around the area, I always make JR drive down the road, so I can see it.  It was up for sale again the last time we drove past. 

We bought the property in Kirtley with money I made from babysitting.  It was the first important thing I had actively contributed to financially in our marriage besides small things here and there.  I would make triple payments each month in the hopes of paying it off quickly, so we could move out there someday.   It was everything I thought about.  Even though we were moving up in beauty and quality of land in Giddings, it crushed me the day we sold the 25 acres in Kirtley.  Giddings was the right decision, don't get me wrong, but it still hurt. 

11 years ago in 2004 we became owners of 22 acres in Giddings.  We tent camped for awhile and then purchased a used camper from friends, which we used for years and years until it was a leaky mess.  We had discussed building a cabin, had gone to the model homes and filled out the paperwork, drew up plans, dreamed, but money and fear of being strapped stood in the way.  This was until I lost my Mother, then my Aunt to pancreatic cancer and realized life is way too short. 

You never know what is going to happen tomorrow or the next day and to live in fear of the unknown isn't how you should spend your time on earth.  This is not to say you should go barreling in without using your head.  There is a way to do things while still being cautious.

We went to a cedar cabin builder, the same one that we had been to 11 years earlier, and drew up plans for a small 2 bedroom, 2 bath cabin. We changed the direction of doors, put in closets, added outlets and a screened in porch, changed the outside walls to hardiplank, added spigots and lighting among other things.  We created our dream on paper, then balked.  Could we afford this?  Could we afford 2 electric bills, 2 water bills, 2 mortgages, 2 of everything?  

We looked at our finances and agreed to buckle down, pay some things off and try to reduce extra spending.  We talked and talked and talked.  We were in a good place financially.  JR's income easily took care of all our basic needs and Kimbre's college living expenses. The money I made from babysitting was mostly used for anything extra we wanted to do, buy, or emergencies that cropped up.  I saved a lot.

In February of 2014, we signed the papers with Rustic Cedar Cabins with a tentative plan for them to start building in April.  

In March, my sister Nancy was visiting from Wisconsin and our sister Brenda and I all went to Round Top Market Days where there are miles and miles of crafts, antiques, food, drinks and booths with everything under the sun.   Kimbre and Josh, her boyfriend, met us there and the plan was to go back to a hotel for the evening.  We got the idea to go to our place in Giddings and have a campfire, along with some drinks and fire dancing, ie; Sound of Music. 

When we drove up, there was a frame of a cabin sitting in the middle of our clearing.  I was screaming unintelligible comments for a good hour.  I can't express the feelings of uninhibited joy I felt, I just can't and even now, it brings tears to my eyes.  It was one of the happiest moments of my life besides the birth of my 3 girls.  My dream was happening.

In June, after months of watching each step of the process every weekend, our cabin was completed.  It was red, with white trim, a cedar porch with huge cedar beams, a metal roof and exactly what we wanted.

We started the process of filling it.  We brought every piece of furniture that meant something up there and then some.  My Mom's desk; My Great Grandma's chair; the mahogany dish cabinet which was the very first piece I ever refinished; an antique barrister book case I had gotten for $5 at the thrift store and had refinished; my complete set of L L Bean dishes we had stored in the attic just in case; my black and white picture given to me by my friend Kris of a milkman and a little boy;  a wooden shelf made by my Grandpa; a chest given to me by Grandma; my antique bottle collection; and odds and ends I had collected of other older kitchen pieces.  I filled the cabin with everything I loved and that meant something to me.

We also bought a lot.  A TV, a stereo system, a Blu ray player, chairs for the porch, 2 overpriced hose reels, lamps for the bedroom wall, hooks for the walls,  fireplace doors, rugs, bar chairs, dishwasher, microwave, stove, refrigerator, stuff. 

We went almost every weekend for a long, long time and we loved it.  We still do.  We love it so much, after a year of going there, we want to live there and downsize from a 2000 sq ft home to an 880 sq ft home with 2 covered porches with the intent of building a workshop. The workshop will include a garage; a workout room; a large storage area for holiday decorations, canning jars, memory boxes, and everything we just have to have that won't fit neatly in the cabin and a large office for JR fitted with a couch, TV and his reloading bench.

Extreme downsizing is something I have always pondered, yearned for, really.  Living with the necessities and some niceties, but living more and having less.   Having much less.

And this is where I will close for today.