Innovation and EggFace

True confession: I have spent the past few years looking on the dark side of things. I used to describe myself as optimistic on a personal level but pessimistic about the state of the world but more and more the pessimism was winning on all fronts.

That's undergoing a change; I am sick of being depressed. It's boring for me and not much fun for others, so I'm gonna brightside my outlook in general.

Late January during this horrible winter may not be the best time to try to lift my spirits; luckily we live in an age when we can travel and explore beyond our frozen backyards with the click of a mouse. In looking for things to be upbeat about, I've reawakened to the power of human innovation. Our species has been around for thousands of years but still manages to come up with new ideas, and some of them are even good!

You can read about some of the latest at Springwise. Every week they collect some of the most creative new inventions around. Half of them I don't understand (I don't even have a cell phone, let alone a smartphone, so apps and that ilk don't mean squat in my world) and lots will die without being developed, but the breadth of thought is wonderful.

And speaking of new paths, look at ways people make a living. When I was in high school, we had guidance counselors who tried to steer you towards a career based on your grades and so-called talents (do they even have guidance counselors anymore?). I'm guessing that at least 90% of money-earning activities that you hear of now didn't even exist then--I know for a fact that no one was hiring Major League Baseball iOS developers in 1971.  And many people are combining seemingly disparate interests into careers. A good example is Jenna Woginrich at Cold Antler Farm. Jenna is a writer who is making her way on a small farm by blogging and writing books and holding workshops and raising sheep and teaching and... She always has a new project and definitely thinks outside the farm box.

Now for my eggface. In a previous post--Blog of the Century!--I disparaged the nerd term DFTBA (don't forget to be awesome). I had read it somewhere but didn't bother to learn more. Well, I have since followed up and I admit to being too quick to judge..

DFTBA is the brainchild of two of the most innovative young guys on the web, Hank and John Green, a.k.a Nerdfighters, a.k.a. Vlogbrothers, a.k.a too many other terms to list here. Their projects range from videoblogging to English football teams to best-selling books to raising thousands of dollars for charities. Check them out; this might be one of the few times when "awesome" is appropriate.

My toes may be frozen from trips out to care for the animals and I may be so sick of winter that I could scream BUT human innovation is a reason to look up beyond the icy mud. That and the fact that there are birds in my yard and they're singing!

Don't you feel better now? I do.

Stitches happen

After a 30 year hiatus, I am embroidering again. 

I bought a box of miscellaneous goodies at an auction; among other treasures inside were two pillowcases stamped for embroidery. I always have a long list of things to do over the winter, needlework wasn't one of them. But now I've got a new project, one perfect for working on while sitting in front of the wood stove on these frigid days.

Tom said this reminds him of a scene in the movie YOU CAN'T TAKE IT WITH YOU where Tony and Alice discuss her mother:

Alice: Do you know why my mother writes plays?
Tony: Well, she probably likes literature, good books...
Alice: No, Because 8 years ago a typewriter was delivered to the house by mistake.
Tony: If it had been a plow, she would have taken up farming.
Alice: I'm sure of it.


We really can't predict the future. Making plans is fine, having goals and an idea of what you want out of life gives us direction. But I see it as a good thing that life surprises us with the unexpected.

So chart out those action steps but leave some wiggle room for chance and serendipity. Sometimes we have to just accept the new friend, the radical thought, or the embroidered pillowcases.

Blog of the Century!

We butchered our first rabbit; it was an awesome experience! Extreme simplicity and the meal was the ultimate in taste, a major culinary Event!! A self-reliance shocker!!!

 Along with the rabbit, can you taste some thinly veiled sarcasm?

 I am sick of exclamation points. I am tired of the media touting everything as the latest wonder, miracle, or other superlative. I don't want to be told to go for the gusto, live large, follow my passion, or DFTBA (don't forget to be awesome).

Stop.
Think.
Reflect.

 A life of all hill-top moments is exhausting and unsustainable. Life is daily. It is lived in seconds and minutes in the valleys. It is savoring the real and the common. It is whispering care and concern for our families and friends and world, not shouting our egos abroad. How can we be mindful of our lives if we are too caught up pretending that the minors are the majors?
 
Yes, there are wonders in this world but you won't find them on Facebook.

 DFTBA?

Let's strive for DFTBM--don't forget to be mindful--instead.

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.

Feelin' Blue

We are, more or less, ready for winter.

The garden is turned and mulched, wood is stacked, coop tightened up, tarps ready for the rabbit cages, and we're gradually moving the sheeps' grazing towards their barn. Now it's time to start on that long list of inside projects. Like the bathroom.

This is the bathroom from the realtor's listing.

My challenge, and I did decide to accept it, was to redo it on a very tight budget.

We had started back in April. We tore out the tub doors and, since the tub space is quite tiny,  replaced them with a curved shower rod and curtain. Now you can take a shower without banging your elbow. The rod was our biggest splurge.

 

Next up was painting, painting, painting. 

The textured ceiling had bubbles and bare spots. I fixed what I could and repainted it white. I'm not sure if the fixes will hold but, as per my mantra, it's ok for now.

After my neck recovered, it was time for more visible changes.

The "woodwork" is funky, plastic-type stuff in a trailer brown. 

I painted it all white. I also painted the wooden, 70's era toilet paper holder and the toilet seat*. Suffice it to say that painting the toilet seat is problematical when there is only one toilet in the house.

I had decided on blue for the upper walls. I don't particularly like blue but the vinyl floor is white and blue and the plastic tile on the lower part of the walls has blue flowers. At some point I'd like to replace both but for now they stay. And so the upper walls went from light brown to bright blue.

 

 Then it was on to the built-in sink cabinet. We both feel this is too big for the room but, again, for now it stays. It too was wood with a glossy finish. I mixed plaster of paris with some flat white paint as a chalk paint primer (learned this from Gail Wilson's blog My Repurposed Life).

Too cold to paint in the garage!

 It covered great. Then I mixed the blue paint with white for a lighter shade. The semi-gloss covered fine over the chalk paint. I replaced the metal knobs with wooden ones painted white.

In the middle of all this, I decided to fix the shower. For some reason, it only had hot water. Fine in winter but it made showers in the middle of summer a bit steamy. I researched the problem and ordered a replacement cartridge for the faucet. We had tried accessing the shower plumbing from behind the wall and discovered all of the working parts were in the front. We spent an entire afternoon taking apart the faucet and never did get the cartridge out. When I put it back together it added a drip to it's woes. With a heavy heart for my lack of skills (Tom and I had totally replumbed the bathroom in our New York house, with me doing most of the work, so I feel justified in beating myself up a bit over a dripping faucet), I called the plumber. He came, he conquered. Problem fixed. I returned the cartridge and was hardly out more money than if I'd done it myself.

So now I could return to painting.

The ugliest part of the bathroom by far were the three hollowcore doors. Three doors (!) in a 7' x 9' room: the room door, a closet behind that door, and a closet by the tub. We early on took off the closet door behind the main door as the only purpose it seemed to serve was to smash it's doorknob into the other door.

We decided to pull a slight of hand to disguise the hollowcoreness of these blah things. We got some half-round molding and glued it on, then primed and painted. 

It's a good thing we're readers!

Despite taking forever--you can only do one side at a time, let everything dry, paint, let dry, etc.--it was worth the effort.

Tub closet door

Door with panel covering hole.

 The doorknobs of these doors were battered and a fake, bright gold. Since the faucets are silver, I thought it would be good if the rest of the metal fittings in the room were less jarring. I ordered a small jar of Rustoleum Metallic Accents paint in pewter and painted the doorknobs, hinges, some wall hooks, and even the toilet seat hinge. It does look better but I'm not sure how well this will hold up under everyday use.

As always, this budget make-over cost more than I had hoped:

shower rod and curtain, $75
3 gallons of paint,  $70 (with lots left over for other projects)
molding, $27
metallic paint, $7
plumber, $77

We still need to replace two wall sconces and add a few other touches. But for now, it's ok!

*Painting a toilet seat does not appear to be a great idea, I have already had to touch up too many dings. Tom is, at this very moment, at True Value perusing new seats so we probably should add about $12 to the total outlay.