Five Things I Learned While Preparing For The Apocalypse

Posted on June 4, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

In 2008, I became convinced the world was going to end.  I remember standing outside my office, talking to my friend in Boston on my cell phone, asking her what was happening to the stock market.  I was afraid.

I started spending all my free time researching methods for surviving an economic collapse, a pandemic, a nuclear event, or a societal breakdown.  There are many, many websites and blogs out there which cater to nervous people like me.  Some of them promoted reasonable things like saving a little bit of money, keeping some food on hand “just in case,” and keeping one’s car in good repair.  Others suggested more extreme measures like stocking up on rice, wheat, light bulbs, and toilet paper.  It’s not my intent to challenge the logic of such things.  If a person has some extra money and buys 10 cases of toilet paper today and then toilet paper skyrockets in price next week, I call that a good investment.  I have a little extra toilet paper and honestly, it spares me the drudgery of going to the grocery store for long stretches of time.  I also bought a sub-zero sleeping bag which has been great during those ice storms which knock out power for days here on the Seacoast of New Hampshire.

During this time of apocalyptic research, I created a “car kit” of emergency items I kept in a large box in the back of my Jeep.  I kept a change of clothes, a rain slicker, some towels, a blanket, some jumper cables, water, a first aid kit, a pair of boots, and a box of snacks.  My mental goal was to make it to Lisbon Falls whenever the “you know what” hit the fan.  Maybe I’d have to ditch the Jeep at some point; I knew I could always hoof it home even if the Jeep was knocked off the road by a wandering gang.

This spring, as I started working on my gardens, I had to move the “car kit” out of the car so I would have room for hauling compost, tools, and tomatoes.  At first, I was nervous, but then I realized that the only items I had ever used were the first aid kit and the water.  On two separate occasions I had run into people who had fallen off their bicycles and I was glad I could offer them some Bactine, a band-aid, and a bottle of water.

This weekend, after bringing the last of my seedlings to the garden, I decided I would put the car kit back in the Jeep.  I opened the lid on the snack box and found a can opener, a can of beans and a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli.

I ate the Chef Boyardee ravioli today; it wasn’t very good.  It had been a long time since I had eaten canned pasta.  I’m going to replace it with some nuts and dried fruits because the Chef sold out to ConAgra.

Going through everything in the box reminded me that I haven’t been spending much time lately worrying about the Apocalypse.  That’s not to say that I think everything in the world is great.  I’m still cynical.  It’s just that I don’t think buying canned food is going to save me from some doomsday scenario that might happen.

What, exactly, did I do with all that time I used to spend reading and listening to “prepping” blogs and podcasts?    I’m now using the extra time to write my own blog, which is a dream I have had for a long time.  By taking a few baby steps towards making just one dream come true, things don’t seem so scary any more.

I certainly don’t regret any of the things I learned in the last 4 years of studying survival techniques.  In fact, there are at least five things I’ve learned, in no particular order:

  1. A good sleeping bag is a good investment;
  2. Being able to grow your own food is better than relying on Chef Boyardee;
  3. Being near to family and good friends when things are uncertain is more important than anything you can buy;
  4. Debt is a curable cancer; and
  5. No one can predict the future.

Being prepared for everything in life is important.  Doing a job, giving a presentation, or planting a garden all takes practice and preparation and as my mother would say “practice makes perfect.”  But life is short and as the writer and poet Dorothy Parker once said “You might as well live.”

How do you prepare for life?

Posted in Just Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on Five Things I Learned While Preparing For The Apocalypse

Exponential Rain

Posted on June 3, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

It rained a lot last night; I wish I had a cistern to collect all the rain that came down.  Until I build my ultimate water catchment system, the three barrels at Uncle Bob’s will have to do.

I planted some nasturtium seeds in my “Surprise Garden” before the deluge began.  These flowers will eventually fill in the tulip spot which is now bare.

The rain felt good.

Rainy days are difficult for busy people.  I am accustomed to “going” and “doing” and I expect the weather to conform to my wishes.  It doesn’t work that way, at least not yet.  I’m sure someone is working on an “app” to control the weather.  A primitive weather control device, the umbrella, allows people to “go” and “do” in spite of the rain.  I remember having a “dome umbrella” which promised to keep me dry and allowed me to see clearly where I was going so as not to lose my way under the burden of the rain.

These days, I don’t have a dome umbrella, so I am going to practice standing still.  The “weather guessers” are predicting spots of rain for today and then on and off for the rest of this week; today sounds like a good day to stand still and rest.

On a day of rest a long time ago a “man of the cloth” gave me his business card; I must have been church shopping.  I did not join his church, but I’ve kept the business card all these years because of the “meditation” on the back.

“Fix, O Lord, our steps, so that we stagger not at the uneven motions of the world, but go steadily on our way, neither censuring the journey by the weather we meet, nor turning aside from anything that might befall us.”

I urge you to “stagger not” and be still today, rain or shine.

Posted in Today We Rest, Weather and Seasons | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Exponential Rain

Rabbit, Rabbit

Posted on June 1, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

When I was little, someone suggested that saying “Rabbit, Rabbit” when I first woke up on the first day of the month would ensure good luck for the entire month.  Or was it just “rabbit?”  Maybe it was “wood chuck.”  I don’t remember and I almost never remembered to say “rabbit, rabbit” before I started chattering away on the first day of the month.

Now that I’m older, I don’t believe in luck, fate, karma, or rabbits.  I do believe in wood chucks, but that’s another story for another day.  I’ve never taken a philosophy class; if you asked me my opinion about such things, I’d probably say “if it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men” and “be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.”

I have the last verse posted on my refrigerator; I do the best I can.  Some days are harder than others but thinking about that verse keeps me from doing a lot of things which might get me in trouble with Johnny Law.

May was a crazy month, though, and it did cross my mind as I lifted my tired head from the pillow to say “rabbit, rabbit” before I got up.  A lot of circumstances converged and a lot of energy was required to keep putting one foot in front of the other each day.  I drank more coffee than I’d like.

In spite of this, a lot of good things happened in the garden last month.  I’ll be planting my last tomatoes today in my “secret” garden and the last pepper seedlings got potted up last night.  As much as many had expressed concerns about the early spring and heat, we’re only two weeks ahead, confirmed by the cryptic notes on Uncle Bob’s calendar.  Things are pretty darn lush and beautiful out there.  I have a lot of pictures in my camera of out of control rhododendrons, carpets of sea roses, and happy waving irises.  Ray Kroc would be happy; things are green and growing here in New England.

I can’t complain, because I know a lot of people are looking out for me.

Are you green and growing or ripe and rotting?  June is a good month to decide and we can keep meeting in this spot and figure it all out.

Y’all come back now, hear?

Peace.

Posted in Friday Pillow Talk | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Rabbit, Rabbit

I Didn’t Even Have To Click My Heels

Posted on May 31, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

When it’s a Thursday that feels like last Monday and a friend from home sends me a remarkable picture of a place I love, what else can I do but sigh and wipe a little tear from my eye.

Photo of a family farm on Summer Street in Lisbon Falls, May 30, 2012, courtesy of Steve Yenco.

There’s no place like home.

Posted in Minimalist | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

You Might Have To Get Your Hands Dirty

Posted on May 30, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

Yesterday was a London-like foggy day here on the Seacoast of New Hampshire.  A light mist fell; anyone with naturally curly hair (like Frieda from “The Peanuts”) had a battle to maintain a sleek and smooth coiffure (like Jackie Oh!)

A day like this is a perfect day to weed the garden.  When the garden’s soil is soft from the rain, the weeds pop right out; when soil is dry, the weed’s roots cling to the soil and make weeding more difficult.  Of course, on a foggy day, you might get a little misty and your hair might get a little curly.  You might even have to get your hands dirty.  It’s all worth it, though, to get rid of those pesky weeds.  Flowers and vegetables grow better when they don’t have to share soil nutrients with them.

Not everyone likes to get down on their knees and weed the garden.  There are other ways.  Some people take the thrifty approach and use old cardboard and newspapers between the rows.  Other gardeners use grass clippings; just remember to apply them thinly because they can get soggy if applied too heavily.  I’ve used landscape fabric and landscape plastic to mulch my tomatoes and it works well.  Uncle Bob didn’t seem to care for it; the implication seemed to be that I was lazy for not wanting to weed.  Here’s a whole variety of mulches for other lazy people like me.  Farmers with large areas to plant use landscape fabrics; as much as they like weeding, sometimes things get away from them when they’re busy doing other things.

This year, I’m doing an informal mulching and weed control experiment with my tomatoes.  I’ve mulched one group of tomatoes with salt marsh hay.  Unlike other types of hay, salt marsh hay does not contain any seeds and thus won’t sprout new weeds in your garden.  It’s a common type of mulch for East Coast gardeners as the Atlantic Ocean is its native habitat.  It’s also relatively inexpensive; I paid nine dollars for a bale and a bale goes a long way in little gardens like mine.  I used half a bale to mulch my potatoes and brought the other half home to mulch my tomatoes.

I mulched the second group of tomatoes with bagged compost I bought at Pine Knoll Landscape.  One benefit of using compost as weed controlling mulch is that the nutrients from it will slowly leach into the plant’s root system and provide a steady supply of fertilization over the growing season.  It looks neat and tidy, too.  One caveat; I’ve planted saved marigold seeds between the tomato plants mulched with compost.

Regardless of whatever method of weed control you use, you still might have to get your hands dirty and there’s nothing wrong with that.

How do you control weeds in your garden?

Posted in Farmers | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on You Might Have To Get Your Hands Dirty

The Treadmill

Posted on May 29, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

Last week, I attended a 3 day conference.  I sat down, sat some more, had lunch and then sat down again.  I was not able to move and groove around as I like to do.  By Thursday morning, I felt like a 90-year-old woman, all stiff and sore.  I wondered if I might have deep vein thrombosis from all that sitting.  Thankfully, I didn’t.

This past Sunday, I walked to the library to blog, ate breakfast, dug a 40 foot trench, planted some tomatoes, took a 5 mile walk on The Farm, mowed my father’s lawn, and then planted some more tomatoes.  I slept like a baby; I got up yesterday morning and felt like a teenager.  I ate breakfast and headed back to the garden to plant sunflowers and melons.

All of this moving and grooving reminded me to be grateful for the gift of health and strength.  I have not always felt so fantastic.  Even though I don’t belong to a gym or a health club now, there was a time when I did.  I even did “step aerobics” classes in the late 80’s and early 90’s, complete with leg warmers and a leotard.

(Thank goodness there’s very little evidence of that period of my life.)

Even though a computer device told me I was burning thousands of calories, I have never enjoyed jumping up and down and running in place.  I never felt fantastic.  It’s true that many people go to health clubs and gyms and it helps them to get and stay fit.  I’m happy there is such an option for people who do not want to dig 40 foot tomato trenches.  That’s freedom; I do what I like and other people do what they like.  We don’t impose our ideas on each other.  We don’t fight about which way is better.  No one needs to say “there ought to be an exercise law.”

My own personal experience with growing food and taking care of the land has been physically rewarding.  I’ve also had the opportunity to observe other people who grow food and take care of the land; they seem to be amazing physical specimens, with vibrant complexions and a certain peace about them.  N.C. Wyeth painted illustrations of such people.

Here’s Uncle Bob, planting three rows of Dorinny corn.

He’ll be 76 this summer.  After he finished his planting, he helped me with mine, then rode his bicycle to the Memorial Day parade, came home for lunch, loaded up his push mowers, and drove out to The Farm to mow the 200 foot “driveway” from the road to the barn.

When I’m able to move about on the land, I don’t feel so old.  I feel alive and free.

Maybe there’s something new and wonderful in the old ways.

Did you move and groove freely this weekend?

Posted in Farmers | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on The Treadmill

Mowing The Lawn

Posted on May 28, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

When I got home on Saturday, I noticed the lawn was long.  We’ve had a lot of rain and the grass just keeps on growing.  I asked my father if he would like me to mow the lawn; after all, I used to have a lawn mowing business when I was in high school.

“No!”

OK.  My mother assured me that my father would mow the lawn on Sunday afternoon.  But then the phone rang and they were invited to a cook-out on Sunday afternoon.  On Sunday morning, I again asked my father if he would like me to mow the lawn.  Again, he game the same adamant response.

“No!”

I worked in my garden on Sunday morning and then I went to The Farm for a walk.  It was a beautiful day, with a gentle mosquito-stalling breeze.  I was thinking about one of my classmates from high school who had lost her father this weekend and how difficult these losses are even when a person is mentally prepared for them.  I was sad for my friend and knew that the beauty of the day would not be the same for her.

When I got home, my parents were still at the cook-out and the lawn was still looking shabby.  I had never actually mowed my parent’s lawn; I was always busy mowing other people’s lawns for profit.  I thought about my friend and how she would probably like to have one more chance to mow the lawn for her dad.  I went out to the shed, pulled out the mower, and stoked it up.

My parents came home when I was halfway through and my father gave me a few tips and pointers.  Then he went out in the back yard and started moving the lawn furniture out of my way.

I mowed the lawn.

Not too shabby!

Hey, Daddy-oh, you can do the clipping!

Memento vivere!

Posted in Home | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on Mowing The Lawn

We Are Going Home

Posted on May 27, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

Saturday was a big day.  My 30 tomato plants made the trip from the Coop to Uncle Bob’s.  Today will be a big day of planting.  No rest and  no barbecues.

I remember talking with Uncle Bob about tomatoes in February; he suggested I “stagger start” them.  He meant “start a few seeds one week, a few more seeds the next week, and then a few more seeds another week.  Did I listen to him?  NO.  I’m not sure why, but I took the “all or nothing” approach again this year, starting all my heirloom indeterminate tomato seeds at once.

It’s a big production for a chicken coop-sized condo; I have heat mats and a large grow light in a west-facing window.  I wonder what my neighbors think.

It’s stressful; I worry about my seedlings from the minute I start them until I finally put them in the ground.  Then, I worry about them when I’m not at home.  I wish they’d write to me.

One year, I brought them home early and put my parents in charge of them.  Herman and Helen didn’t have the same passion for the job; in fact, one weekend I came home and threw a little tantrum.

“You’re trying to kill my tomatoes.  You’re tomato killers!”

That was kind of juvenile; my parents are terrific; they’re just not wanna-be farmers.

All’s well that ends well.  Most of the half-dead tomatoes were resurrected in the dirt of Uncle Bob’s garden and grew to be crazy, out of control, fruit producing plants.

They don’t call me Aunt Tomato for nothing.

Posted in Farmers | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on We Are Going Home

Friday Pillow Talk – Yard Sales Cause Accidents

Posted on May 25, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

This Friday, I have no goofy dreams to report and no crank phone calls to repeat.  I’m just going to pontificate from my pillow.  Today’s pompous pontification – yard sales cause accidents.

Here in New England, the “seasons” as we know them are a series of “firsts,” “opening days,” and “lasts.”  There are formal opening days at places like Fenway Park, summer ice cream stands, and Decorator Show Houses.  There are opening days of hunting and fishing seasons.  There is the first time a person jumps into the Atlantic Ocean and the first day to wear flip-flops.  I almost forgot the first day of Patriots training camp.  Then there’s the last day to pick apples and to wear white pants.  Not simultaneously, please.

I could go on and on.

One opening day that is rarely discussed is the dangerous and unpredictable opening day of yard sale season.  No one really knows the exact date; there seems to be a mysterious mathematical equation involving air temperature, the chance of precipitation, and square feet of house junk.  Maybe it’s more arcane; if 3 fluffy clouds are floating in a deep blue sky pierced by one vapor trail, then something goes off in the New England brain and people start bringing their stuff out into the driveway and making cardboard signs.

Whatever the secret signal, it went off last Saturday and the New Hampshire Seacoast was buzzing with yard sales.  There was a lot of merchandise for sale everywhere.  I always glance over to see if anything useful shouts out to me, but then I look away quickly to avoid the siren song.  After all, there’s not much room left here in the Coop; I’m trying to get rid of things.

I was weaving the Jeep inland, away from the beach and towards the Newmarket Farmer’s Market.  I crossed over Route 1 onto Route 27, riding the free waves and singing along to some rockabilly song on the UNH radio station.  Things were good until the car in front of me slowed down to a crawl; I noticed all the yard sale signs.  Apparently, the “neighborhood yard sale” was this year’s craze, highlighting the collective trash and treasure of multiple suburban collectors.  But why was that mini-van parked perpendicularly across the road?  Oh oh, it looked like AN ACCIDENT.  Not good.

Thinking I could avoid the traffic snarl, I turned into a neighborhood I’d never been in before and started searching for a way around the accident.  I might as well have been in a corn maze; all roads kept bringing me back to the scene of the accident.  I must have passed 20 yard sales in that neighborhood but not one thing caught my eye.

(By the way, has anyone invented a corn maze for cars?  That might be fun.)

The PO-lice eventually arrived and started directing traffic; I ended up backtracking onto Route 1 again and I wasn’t too late for the Farmer’s Market.  I couldn’t help but laugh a little when I thought about how these things can happen.  I’d seen it a hundred times sitting in the back seat of my parent’s car.  Heavy footed Herman would be cruising along some country road at the speed limit plus 20 and Helen would say “Herman, slow down and stop at that yard sale on the right.”  Naturally, Herm would burn a little rubber and utter some light profanity as he would bring the car to a screeching halt.  Sometimes, I think he’d speed up just to spite my mother.  It was his way of saying “I’m driving the car today.”  We’ve never had any accidents, though; thank goodness.

There will be a lot of yard sales this Memorial Day weekend and I’ve got two recommendations for you:

“Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel.”

and

“Simmah Down Now Hee-Yah!!

Posted in Friday Pillow Talk | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

You Call Them Weeds

Posted on May 24, 2012 by Julie-Ann Baumer

I call them rebels, yelling “Don’t tread on me!”

Posted in Minimalist | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on You Call Them Weeds