The Face of Frugality

I'd love to look like this when I go outside to work.

Mary Jane of Mary Jane's Farm

But instead, I usually look like this.

The poster child for parsimony.

Thriftiness has many faces, many forms. How you decide to spend your time and resources is different than what we do. Our brand of frugal has enabled us to live the life we enjoy; we've traveled a bit, paid off a mortgage, retired early. 

At Lick Skillet, our version of living on the cheap looks like this:

Waiting for wood stove season to cook down tomato sauce.

Drying clothes outside twelve months a year.

Taking advantage of Jansport's lifetime warranty on packs. I think I bought the original in the 1970's; this is the second or third time it will be replaced.

Tom's National Association of Pastoral Musicians shirt acquired in 1989. He wore it often, then used it as a pj top, now it's a work shirt, soon to go to the rag bag.  

And me dressing like this:

Do you live a life of intentional austerity? Share your thoughts and photos--top that photo of me, if you dare!

Blow, blow thou winter wind

Does anyone remember the book and movie (the 1950 version) "Cheaper by the Dozen"? The father, a time and motion expert, tries to run his family on modern efficiency principles. I'd like to see him try it on this small holding powered by whim and woman.

On the other hand, age and below freezing temperatures are a powerful motivation to make a person more efficient.

Every day, when the sun comes up, I head out to take care of our animals. This month that simple sentence has taken on gargantuan proportions and I am trying hard to reduce the many trips in and out I usually make.

The cats need food and their water dish filled. The rabbits need pellets and fodder and hay and filled water bottles. The chickens get pellets, which they ignore, and fresh water. The sheep also need water and food.

In detail, the low temperatures mean every water source is frozen overnight, paths to cages are slick with ice, I'm carrying buckets and bottles down stairs I can barely navigate empty handed (gimpy knee still healing, see It takes a village), doors need to be unstuck, and everyone is hungry RIGHT NOW!


I start inside. I rinse and drain the wheat fodder I'm growing for the bunnies and set aside the squares of it they will get today. The extra set of water bottles gets filled with apple cider vinegar water. I put everything in a bucket, grab a plastic bag and a full gallon of acv water, bundle up, and head outside. If I'm lucky, the front door isn't frozen shut. I pass everything outside the door while simultaneously keeping the cats from coming inside and shut the door behind me.

I now head over to the steps. One by one, I place the bucket, etc. on each step, limp down one, and repeat until I've reached the bottom and head towards the garage, dodging kittens along the way.

In the garage I fill the catfood bowl and grab their water bowl, dump the ice outside and refill with acv water. Then I load up on rabbit pellets and head out to the rabbit cages, unwrap the tarps protecting them from wind and fill their food bowls with pellets and fodder. 

I swap off frozen bottles for thawed and limp off to let the chickens out. I pour them some chicken pellets but they have recently decided they don't like them and they jump under the bunny cages instead to root in the poop. I take their frozen waterer out of the coop and set it aside to take back to the house.

Next are the sheep and Monster Bunny (she lives in the barn because we didn't plan on four cages in our rabbitry but we got a great deal on 3 does instead of 2). I put her water bottle and some food in the plastic bag and grab the remaining acv water. At this point I realize I have forgotten the firewood canvas carrier which is perfect for carrying hay to the sheep--I may have gotten more effective but I'm not perfect. 

And by the way, the sheep have been trained that grain comes in a bucket so I put the rabbit stuff in a bag to fool them. It doesn't work.

Carefully, I navigate the slick walk to the barn and get my load through the gate. The sheep at this point are locked in the barn which makes this part easier. I open the dutch door and discover that ice is blocking the bottom door which will only open wide enough for the sheep to push out. HA!--This allows me to get inside and keep them out while I feed Monster Bunny. Monster Bunny, aka the rabbit who likes to bite, has seven kits which has mellowed her only slightly. I do manage to get my arm in the cage to give her food without losing any fingers and change her water bottle.

The sheep's water is also frozen, of course, and I manage to drag the bucket outside and dump the ice and give them a fresh drink. They look at me and baa reproachfully when they see I haven't brought them any hay.

So, one more trip down the icy path and into the house for the carrier, thump, thump, thump down the steps, and into the garage for hay. I get it to the sheep without mishap which I consider a big win.

Now I only have to get a bucket of water bottles, a frozen chicken waterer, and the sheep's frozen bucket into the house to thaw and I'm done...

...until later in the morning when all of the water will need to be replaced again, but by that time Tom is up and he is happy to help.

Now I can sit in front of the fire and appreciate the winter beauty while warm inside and congratulate myself on how efficient I've become.

Oh drat, I forgot to take out the thawed chicken waterer. sigh.

It takes a village to raise a rabbit

All we wanted to do was visit out grandkids before Christmas.

We  worked around their parents' busy schedule and picked the weekend, made hotel reservations, found someone to come check on the sheep and chickens and cats and rabbits. And watched the weather forecast.

Winter storm Cleon was headed our way.

The forecast was for a bit of freezing rain and then 4-6 inches of snow*. Our teen-aged animal sitter was terrified. He arranged for a back-up in case he and his dad (who had the 4 wheel drive vehicle) were stuck.

The back-up was a real Country Gal. She and her husband live in a house they built themselves, aren't connected to the grid, are real self-reliant. They also live on the ridge above us.

The ridge ABOVE us.

The morning we were to leave, she called early explaining that they might be snowed in themselves.

Total of about 4" of snow, not exactly record breaking.

Bear in mind that we were only going to be away for 2 full days. We could easily leave enough food for everyone but the cold temperatures meant...

...frozen rabbit water bottles.

With two nursing does and 17 babies, access to water is important. The hutches are outside and unheated.

Snug behind their tarp barrier.
 

The rabbits don't mind the cold and the babies are tucked into nestboxes with straw and fur and we could leave lots of food. But we still needed someone to change the water bottles at least once a day.

We arranged to leave later than we had planned, changed the water once again and put up the tarp wind barrier. We figured the bunnies would be ok that night. We were hoping someone could get here by the next day after the snow stopped.

To add to the stress level, shortly before we were to leave, I tripped and twisted my knee. It hurt bad enough that I couldn't walk without hobbling on Tom's arm and ended up on crutches. This weekend was not panning out as we had envisioned it.

But we finally drove off and, after being slowed down by unplowed roads (did I mention this is southern Indiana?) and bad drivers, we hit clear sailing for the second half of the trip. We were sure that by the next day, the roads would be clear and driveways dug out so we set about enjoying our visit. 

Our carefree mood didn't last long thanks to the miracle of electronic communication.

A spate of emails and missed phone calls informed us that Teen-age boy and dad were stuck at their house. Country Gal's long driveway was snowed in and her door frozen. We seriously considered cutting our visit short and returning a day early.

Here is where we discover the value of good neighbors. When Country Gal found she was stranded, she called our nearest neighbors who live about 1/4 mile away from us on a FLAT road. They obliged and the day was saved. By the next day, Teen-age boy could make the trip. And later that day we were home.


No one even missed us.
 

We learned a few things from our Cleon weekend: Tom hasn't lost his winter weather driving skills, our grandkids are worth the hassles we went through, and most of all, good neighbors are priceless.

* This is where our NY friends will laugh themselves silly. Yes, 4-6 inches is nothing in the Northeast, a mere bagatelle, not worth thinking about. On Skillet Road, however, it is cause for fear and trembling. There are two reasons for this: 1. Our house can only be reached via hilly, twisty roads, many not paved. 2. Southern Indiana is southern Indiana. Folks here talk with a drawl, they eat cornbread and beans, they are not real familiar with snowplows and windchills.