Eastward bound

 I started to write this blog post a couple months ago. I haven't written since May. I knew big things were happening. I could feel the impending change.

Last time I wrote, my world was shaky. My job no longer secure- both for lack of materials, and the physical strength to install them. Realizing that I'm no longer physically capable of many job things I could do before was a blow to the psyche. I knew I'd have to figure something out. I didn't know that once I had decided I was done, the universe would align almost immediately.

It never looks good in the moment. It's always an intense, sudden uncomfortable event that kicks me into motion. Discomfort makes us move. It's necessary, the biggest motivator. I found myself at my breaking point. I had to make the hard decision to walk away from the life I'd built up but could no longer handle.

There were other factors at play in my decision. After years of struggling to convince my partner to take a little bit of the responsibility weight off my shoulders, it finally did me in. The constant stressors that came with our lifestyle falling mostly on me shortened my burnout time. I reached it rather quickly- and then decided to try and drag myself along anyways. Until that moment on that one fateful day.

Thanks to covid delays, like thousands of others, not all of our permits were up to date. We were stopped on a routine check and told we could no longer drive the van until it was dealt with. We still had a 4 month wait. There's no way.. it's not impossible but it's certainly not easy living in a semi remote community without driving. That was the last straw. That bit of weight shifted enough to tip the scale. Instead of feeling angry and upset, I felt relieved that the choice had been made easy. I got my sign.


A few days later I'd set the date. Seven years was a long time to be anywhere for me. I never realized how deeply I wanted this change. It seems like going backwards. But after this long, and maybe just in general.. sometimes you have to take a big step back to continue to move forward. And I don't feel the least bit upset about it.

Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful thing to experience being out there. I made great friends, had a million beautiful experiences, I learned a lot of stuff about things, and of myself. But it was long past due for my departure. I had to balance getting rides to the city for work and shipping my life to the east coast for the remainder of my time out there. It's a blur. Most of it was left there with my intent to return. But that didn't exactly go the way we thought it would either.

Shortly after my departure, the impending disaster that was the farm quickly unfurled. As the heat continued to be outrageous and the fires socking the valley in with smoke, the well system on the farm finally failed. A month has passed, and with several failed attempts to make the repair, we were left with no choice but to disband the farm. All of the animals are in the process of being rehomed, and our materials moving to neighbouring homesteads.

My belongings are still in the farmhouse. The moment I left I had to mentally write it all off as though it burned up in the fires. In order to get my head around leaving everything out there, I made a plan for my return to deal with it. I might not get the chance before the premises are vacated. But that was the point of letting it go. Just in case. I'm hoping it will be safely stored up the road until the world settles down a minute about this covid shit. It would be an easy flight out and back to ship it homeward if it wasn't for that. Hindsight and whatnot. At least I thought to put it all together before I left..

So I'm here. There's still a pandemic happening through which my timing to switch provinces was pretty on point. It was about as 'open' as the country had been this whole time, and shit shut down again pretty quickly not long after. I'm trying to enjoy the blessings in the moment without being overtaken by worry and guilt about leaving the farm in the middle of everything.

I had help writing a resume for the first time in years and I'm starting over to find a job. Pretty well back to where I started. In a room in a basement in my hometown on foot. It's kind of crazy to think about after everything.. that said, it's somehow been the best summer. I really missed my people. My place.. the comfort of knowing no matter what, I'm safe. I just need a minute to rest here a little.

Change

 I'm not working today because there isn't any. This week more than half of our crew was let go. I was thrilled to survive the cut (and not at all surprised, I'm good at what I do). But when our foreman came to us at the end of the day yesterday and said there's no work for any of us, I became nervous for the first time in my construction work history. 

I always thought this would be secure. There's always new houses. More people. People need places to live. I would retire from this company many many years from now making fat money. I finally work for a company that truly cares for its people. I can take leave as long as I want, and come back like nothing happened. I finally have security. Or not..

Materials are becoming scarce. What usually takes a day or 2 to order is now on a several month back order, and 5x the original cost. Companies on our same site are going bankrupt. Work is grinding to a halt. I never thought this would happen, especially considering there wasn't a single day of shutdown in our field during the pandemic. I thanked my stars for being 'essential'.

This kind of makes planning ahead a little difficult. I'd just finished revamping my whole ass budget so I could afford a vehicle upgrade and a cross country road trip in the hopefully not too distant future. But now that future is looking more blurry than ever. Not gonna lie, I'm a little concerned. I take my time deciding these days, and it seems when I finally do, things change. The only constant in life, indeed. 

6 years out here.

 6 years ago today I woke up on the West Coast after a three and a half day bus ride. I can still remember how I felt to walk out the door of my friend's house and into my brand new world. I spent a week hiking around the city and the provincial parks that surround it. Massive trees fascinate me, and I Revel in their company. I could feel presence again. I remembered what it was like to be in the moment, to feel every breath.

I had no direction, no real plan. All I knew is that I had arrived, I was home... And my destination would be in every single step to come. I tripped around the mainland for a week before venturing to the island. I spent time there with a good friend to reflect and adventure. I prepared myself to find temporary employment until I figured out my footings.

Temporary employment, a few temporary places, and time had passed.. I even ventured back east in the middle of winter to empty out my locker. I returned to find jobs I enjoyed, gardening by the ocean and on the mountainside. The more time I spent in the city immersed in it's happenings, the more I wanted out of it. I was drawn to the forest, the mountains, the water.. it's what I came for. My quest took be back to nature. Fate forced me into it..

Halloween night 2015- the rain burst through the ceiling in my rental house, straight into my bedroom. I took my rent money the next day and bought a pickup truck. It was my home for half a year, at the base of a mountain down by the river. I learned a lot about myself that winter. My limits, my ability to love unconditionally, my ability to change. The evolution from truck to tent to couch to van to farmhouse was a slow and eventful one.

I remember the day J and I drove all the way out here in sub zero temperatures to look at the house. Small, drafty, but that view... I couldn't get over it, I was instantly smitten. It has a yard, room for a garden. Just enough space to live, and a full kitchen. I had to make this place my home. And I did.. boy did I ever.

Our first year we started as soon as the ground thawed. We built one garden bed, and then another, and another... we were blessed with an abundance to share. Year two brought the animals. Rabbits, goats, and then chickens... year three was the year of the pigs. The year of spiraling outward from our tiny home base. Exploring other land use options in our area. Becoming further integrated into the community. Building real connections with our neighbours.

I woke up this morning, in our fourth year in the valley... 6 years after that first morning I woke up on the coast. Today I had that same sense of presence as I walked out the door to let out the ducks and chickens. I felt a strange wave of accomplishment wash over me as I pulled hay from the loft for the goats. Sometimes I still can't believe it... I brought my hobby farming- homesteading dreams to this great big place and somehow made it happen.


Today I go to bed thankful. My freezer and pantry are full of abundance. My dehydrator has been running for days. The kitchen is loaded with stacks of totes of harvest waiting it's turn to be processed and packed away. Who knew I'd make it this far. Tomorrow is a new day.

A timely pandemic

I'm not sure I want things to go back to normal. I don't think the normal we had was doing us much good. Many of us anyways.. myself included. I've been struggling with my health for years, and this past year has been the most turbulent. It's kind of crazy to even think it, but if it wasn't for this pandemic I may have never woken up to the reality of my situation until it was much too late.

I spent the better part of a week in the hospital on an Intravenous. My pancreas, liver and kidneys went haywire, and my stomach lining was all but gone. I had just experienced the most intense pain of my life, and all I could think about was the fact that I was missing work. I wasn't worried about my health as much as my responsibilities- job wise and financially.

Quite literally I would not have voluntarily applied for medical leave if it was not absolutely required of me at that time. If it were my choice, and I would have been able to proceed with screenings and treatment while still going to work, I would have opted to do so. Even though it hasn't worked for me in the past. Even though I was aware it would be difficult, uncomfortable and possibly dangerous. Even though the likelihood of healing would have been greatly reduced.

It's been 10 weeks, and only now am I beginning to realize how imperative it is for me to be in the best environment possible to heal. I'm not better yet. Hell, I haven't even been able to complete the screening and diagnosis process due to the covid. I've been waiting in limbo trying to figure out for myself what's happening internally so that I can begin to correct it. And honestly, now that I'm getting into it, I truly believe any sort of actual healing would not have been impossible otherwise.

Being mostly homebound, I have the time and mental space to really pay attention to what I'm doing hourly and daily, so that I can monitor how it affects me and my condition. The food I eat, how much and when. How much sleep I get, or don't.. whether I remember to drink enough water to satiate my kidney function..what hurts, what helps, which organs are affected by what,  what becomes inflamed when.

Moving into my eleventh week on the homestead, I'm finally starting to get a good idea. A touch of a grasp on what's happening to me. And even starting to figure out how to manage my condition to keep up with everyday life. Thing is, in order for me to maintain and continue in the direction of healing, the reality of everyday life for me must change.

...

I'm 35 years old. I have been working since I was 14. 40-60 hours a week all summer if I could, and weekends in the school year. The further into high school I got, the more I worked. By the end of school I ended up finishing early so that I could work full time. Not always did I have a place to live, but I always had means of supporting myself. And between work and school it didn't much matter where I spent the very few hours of down time in between.

By 22 I felt the burn. I opted for a seasonal rotation of employment- load up on hours for a couple months at a time so I could take a few months at a time off to travel. The traveling of course came with it's own work, for several summers I'd go to either the east or west coast to work until work ran out, chill for a few weeks to enjoy it, and come back home. Being transient lessened my expenses for certain things, so I spent a little less time doing hard labour so I could spend more time on the trails and in the trees.

It worked well for me for nearly a decade. But as I made a running slide into my thirties, it all caught up to me quickly. My body isn't as keen as it once was sleeping on the ground or in the back of a truck. My recovery time is longer, I need a bit more actual rest. Having a place to call home became imperative, and now it's finally time I take advantage of the opportunity- to use this time at Home to Heal.

...

But I can't go through all this just to come out the other side and go back to normal, the very normal that got me to this level of dis-ease and discomfort in the first place. Every job I've ever had has taken it's toll. It's the only kind of work I know, what I'm good at. Physical. Hard. Work. I'm in construction now, before that was landscaping and gardening on all scales. Before that was warehouse jobs, garden centers, even the photo lab was hard on the body with repetitive heavy lifting of the giant paper cartridges and photo chemicals that I now know had long term effects on my inner organs.

When I ended up taking a dive with my health I'd gotten myself down to 30 hour work weeks already, with 15 hours of driving on top. Though I had the right idea limiting my hours a bit, I don't think it was enough. Reality is though, maintaining a role in society requires an income. I've had a bit of a break from having to stress about that aspect of daily life for a minute, finally utilizing the insurance I've been paying into for years- but my time is almost up.

Now I must consider my reentry into the game. I have to make a decision- going back to what I was doing is not an option if I wish to also maintain my health. I can either go back to work very part time and find other means of supplementing my income, or consider long term disability while I further pursue my health paradox. Both options have their own sets of benefits and drawbacks, so I must carefully weigh my options in the coming weeks.


It's been a timely pandemic indeed. I refuse to let the lessons learned- about my health, job and food security go to waste. It's been an eye opening experience on many levels, and now more than ever, it's time for change.

2020- going viral.

Friday morning I went to my secret little grocery store next to one of our job sites in the city. Up until now in this hysteria, nobody really knew about it unless they lived close by. I wanted to stock up on produce for the weekend for my juice feast, and the store was packed for 10 in the morning. Usually it's pretty quiet on my break.

There was barely 6 packs of toilet paper left, no water, very little canned food, almost no rice... it's setting in. The lineups were running back around the store to cash out. I was able to grab all of the produce I went in for... given the utter chaos, this surprised me.

I understand the CDC recommending people always have a month's worth of food on hand in case of things like this, natural disasters that close roads, weather events that close stores etc. I get that. Especially living out here, which is why we're always as stocked as can be. Our reserves saved us this winter when we were stuck at home during storms, and short on cash not having worked our regular hours. Life would have been hungry without it.

It's easy to do without waiting till shit hits the fan and having to join the masses in the panic buying insanity. Buy a couple extra things when you shop. If it's an item you use regularly and it's on sale, buy two. That sort of thing. Keep your cupboards full and wash your hands, and you'll more than likely survive the winter. Our reserves are a little short coming out of the slow season, but I don't have the money right now to fill a cart with dry goods, and my health right now depends on the fresh stuff.

I'm standing there in line with my hand basket full of produce, and the people with overflowing carts of everything under the sun are looking at me like I'm crazy. I was just grateful that no one had clued in yet to buy any fresh fruits and vegetables. I felt almost foolish stocking up for my weekend of juicing.

I wonder how far this will go, how crazy people will get before this is over. I wonder if in the next few days it'll calm down, or if the hysteria will ramp up tenfold as the government steps in to make us all stay home. I wonder if people going into panic mode will end us before any virus does. I wonder if this will change our generation.

Don't get me wrong, of course the virus concerns me. I have a compromised immune system, and my lungs are already damaged from years of abuse. I'm worried for the majority of my neighbours here that are well onto the most vulnerable age bracket. I'm concerned for my folks and older relatives back home. I'm worried that if it gets any worse, it'll affect our community economically, negatively impacting small local businesses and farmers.

We are doing our part by not going places we don't need to. Social distancing isn't really a problem for us, we're the type of people to keep to ourselves. Given people's behaviour the past week, I'm not enthusiastic about exposing myself to the madness. I have no problem with staying home. Gardening isn't cancelled. Speaking of which..

We're getting started out in the yard. Now that we know we'll be here for at least another season, we can start thinking about what to plant. We had considered putting the farm camp build on hold so that I can focus on regaining my health. The current situation has us thinking it will be in our best interest to proceed. It'll be a delicate balance of energy, and we have to remember to pace ourselves.

Things are changing quickly, and now with a global pandemic in the mix, 2020 is bound to be interesting.

I need a minute...

Life got real intense all of a sudden. The past year has been a complete whirlwind. Early in 2019 we were granted use of a five acre homestead, a field and a barn. We got a taste of working on a slightly bigger scale, and it challenged us to adapt quickly. Suddenly we had a couple pigs, then four, then eleven?! Along with an RV camper in the field next to a quarter acre garden. We had an opportunity to try growing dozens of crops we'd never had space for, including four varieties of potatoes and 27 kinds of heirloom tomatoes!

Somewhere along the line, our home base faced a threat and we were forced to figure out a backup plan. We scrambled to set up something somewhat livable in the field and figure out what to do with our belongings. Not a week later, we found out that the five acre acre homestead was also suddenly off the table. The renter that we were subletting the barn and field from was asked to leave after 15 years of renting- which was totally unexpected.

Our main focus at that point became very outward. We diverted all of our energy into looking for a new place to happen. At the height of our search we were presented with an opportunity that was impossible to resist- acreage, forest, orchard and pasture. Space to build, water on site, miles of potential and possibilities. But a completely blank slate.

In all of this, I've been waiting patiently to address my health more properly. After almost a year of waiting, I finally got the appointment that would start the ball rolling on getting a proper diagnosis. Admittedly, all of this finding my health stuff was tossed on the back burner with no chance of recovery in the near future.

Overwhelmed is an understatement. All of this on top of working in the city most of the week, having the farmer's market every Saturday during the growing season, and volunteering for the food waste diversion program every Sunday- life is very very full. My cup overfloweth...

We spent the fall and winter months pushing forward to collect materials and start rebuilding. Knowing that I was spreading my energy too thin, I allowed it. Embraced it.. and when I finally took that minute to take a look at my health, I got sick. Real sick. Perhaps if I hadn't drained myself of every drop of energy every day all season, it might not have hit me so hard. And of course in the thick of the sickness, our van sprung a leak.. and our well pump stopped working. Not having running water when sick is just as fun as it sounds. And the van needed fixing as if the extra expense was exactly what we needed.

So while I'm laid out here in bed, too exhausted to launder my clothes after a few days without water, too sick to take part in any of the rad plans I had this weekend, and too annoyed by the sound of my own wheezing to fall asleep... I reflect.

I need a minute.

That's a difficult thing for me to admit. I feel guilty for the things I miss, the work I'm not getting done, the people I might be letting down. I pushed myself too hard for too long and I'm paying for it dearly. I need time to think about my decisions, what I can do for myself, and what I might need to let go of. I need a minute to rest. 

Taking Back Time.

I'm having a hard time with something, I always have. And I know I'm not the only one. I'm just gonna come right out and say it- 40 hour work weeks are bullshit. When we were indie contractors, we basically made our own schedule. We would work when the materials/ stages were ready, and if we finished earlier we'd leave early, still getting the flat rate that we had billed for the job. Our jobs were completed efficiently and on time, and we still had time for our lives. Every once in a while we'd have to do long days to get a project finished, but for the most part, worked on average 30 hours a week. Unfortunately as indie contractors, the work wasn't always guaranteed, so we decided to seek out a company to hire us as a team. 

When we were hired by this company, we did our first week like 'normal' workers. We tried the 8-8.5 hour work days, plus the drive, plus our home and farm chores. The company had a sample of our work ethic, and we had a taste of 40 hour weeks on top of our busy half way homesteading life. Then we had our official 'on the books' hiring meeting. We explained how we love the work, take pride in our work, but can't fit a 40 hour work week plus commute into our lifestyle. Much to our surprise, they were more than willing to work with us, given the quality of work we provide.

It's been over a year. We have it worked out to have every other Friday off. We work 7 hour days, and a four hour day evey other Friday. We're paid biweekly, so we'd work a half day, get our checks, do our banking, groceries and errands with the rest of our 'shift'. 28 and 32 averages to 30 hour weeks, or 60 hour pays. Because of tax brackets and whatnot, we only make roughly 60-80 less a week missing those 10 hours. Let that sink in for a minute..

When we worked 40 hour weeks, we were making 600 more a month combined. But! We had 40 hours *less* time a month. Divide that up, that's only an 'additional' 15 bucks an hour... COMBINED. that means those 'extra' 10 hours a week, we were only taking home an extra $7.50 an hour each because working more hours meant we were making more money- and thus had more deductions taken. Plus we save on fuel and miscellaneous spending that happens when we go to work. After all said and done, we're basically giving those extra 10 hours a week away for free. Going to work every day costs time *and* money.

And to what advantage? The company doesn't get any more or better quality work out of me. In fact, longer days means I'm more exhausted the next day and production slows down. It's an observable fact that we as 30 hour a week workers get more done than the "full timers". The company benefits by getting the same or more and better quality work without having to pay for more hours. We get more hours a week to live our lives. Win, win.

There's 168 hours in a week. I spend roughly 50 hours a week sleeping or resting, that leaves 118. My 30 hours working, so 88 left. 13 hours average commuting takes us down to 75. 30 hours a week on farm chores, 25 left.. so if we were working 40 hour weeks, we would have 15 hours a WEEK of idle time. That's it. That's for extra projects, reading, shopping for stuff we need, volunteering, going for a walk, spending quality time together and with our animals, friends and family, leisure activities.. life outside of work. Real, life.

No....

No. That's not enough. This is our life we're talking about here, and we should really consider living life before we're too old to do anything about it..


I understand that it's my choice to have 30 hours a week of farm chores, gardening, working at home. But some people work two jobs to get that food, or to be able to afford various lifestyle choices. I choose to grow my food, and live this life. That's the kind of 'work' I'd rather do to keep myself fed. I'm not at all saying that my way is the right way, and everyone should work less so they can stay home and grow food. I realize that's not possible for everyone. What I'm saying is, I feel that we truly undervalue our time on this earth. And not just monetarily. Our hourly wages, is that really all we're worth?

Someone, somewhere at some point in time set this standard of living that many of us in this current societal structure have adhered to. I think it's about time that we reevaluate these standards as individuals. What do we really need in our lives? What are we paying money (and thus time) for that really doesn't benefit us? Is there some way we can shift our energy to be put into something more self-fulfilling instead of selling the best of ourselves to someone else and not getting an appropriate return? What can I do or create that I can use myself or sell/ barter/ trade for what I do need?

This is just the beginning for me. As my lifestyle shifts to one more rooted in nature, I am exploring more opportunities to be self-sufficient. I am working to shift to a more home-based means of accumulating income, and less of a need for one. When I envision 'retirement', I'm not old, leaving a company I've given my best years to, settling down and waiting to die. For me, retiring will be when my own life and how I live it provides enough abundance to no longer need to hit a punch clock on someone else's dream. The following 'meme' is basically a summation of what I'm getting at..

"My goal is to build a life
I don't need a vacation from"

That is essentially it. No one is saying anything about not having to work. A productive life will always require work. My goal is to get to a point where I only have to attend a "regular day job" enough to cover basic bills, and have the time I need to build, grow, seek and trade for the things I need myself. Put the effort, and time and hard work into my life, the land on which I live, and my community. For now, it is what it is. Slowly buy truly, we're taking back our time.

The Purge- Where to begin.

It's still strange to think about leaving this place. This little farmhouse on the Slough has been the first real tangible experience of home that I have had in my entire adult life. It's amazing what you can pack into 420 square feet, it's even more amazing what one can accumulate in just a few short years. It's time to start shedding the weight in more ways than one.

I don't know how I let myself get so cluttered. Life has a way of doing that... it was a bit overwhelming to think of at first. Where do I begin letting go? The obvious answer is within. I let my health get away from me. I'm carrying far more weight then I'm supposed to be. Both literally and everythingly... I need to get a few things off my shoulders.

I've been in this state of dis-ease before. There's no magic pill, there's no wonder diet. You have to want health to be healthy. So I'm starting the cleansing process with me. I'm doing everything I can to eliminate dietary stresses, and not allow external stresses that create extra weight. I love bread and cheeses and soy and all the delicious things I shouldn't eat having an autoimmune disorder. But no amount of delicious foods will ever be worth the pain and discomfort that I experience constantly if I include them in my diet. Sugar Cravings are real, caffeine Cravings are real... but I'm sick of the up and down, the peak and crash. I want to feel my best all the time and my body deserves what it needs to be healthy. And stress free.

Stress free is key, essentially. The next layer of stress to peel back is the one that surrounds me in my home. The space between myself and the four walls that contain me. We have accumulated a lot of things both together and separately. My folks brought me 11 totes of my entire history from Ontario which I have been systematically eliminating most of the contents of one by one. The idea of trying to store all of these things that I've been carrying around with me my whole life is extremely stressful, I have been doing my best to part with all and anything that does not spark Joy.


De-cluttering my home and my diet come hand-in-hand for me. I feel like I can't be successful with one if I don't also do the other. Because the impending move itself will be a big change with its own chapters of stress to overcome, doing everything we can to minimize our workload until then is critical. Both so that we can put the time needed into preparing our new site, and have a bit of an easier transition. Winter is coming, and I hear we are getting a real one this year.

The next zone to scale back is the one outside our house.. the hobby farm. Given that we will be starting from scratch at our next intended location, we decided to minimize our herd over the next few weeks. Starting with one of my favourite parts of hobby farming. The chickens. A few days after I came back from Ontario, our beautiful rainbow flock was decimated by a couple mink in one night. All of my rainbow layers, my new girls that I had been waiting several months for them to finally start laying Robin blue eggs, my favourite black Australorp... gone.

After two years of having chickens here and never having a problem with predators, we were confident that we had our Chicken Coop on lockdown. We quickly fixed the breach and caught the perpetrators, and haven't had a problem since. Unfortunately, all of the survivors but one are retirees that no longer lay. I had to make a difficult decision to re-home the flock. Given that they are no longer productive, it doesn't make sense for me to keep them as they are the most intensive animals that we have to maintain. When we are getting eggs, any of the expenses incurred would be gained back in their production. Having them here on our small hobby Farm is no longer sustainable. They will be moving along to greener pastures at the end of the month. I will really miss having them, but I'm confident that we will end up adopting a new flock when the time is right.

The pigs have got to go. Maybe we will keep a breeding pair and take them with us, but only if we're sure we can secure the infrastructure in time. The meat rabbits will be shuffled along to those who await. Clover might have to join us in the trailer for a while.

All of this in preparation for the ultimate purge- ourselves from this place. As much as we have put into this house and the land, it's time to move along. The house is old and falling apart, and we have outgrown the land as well as the relationship with it's owner. We'd grown too comfortable in these four walls and ignored the fact that maybe they weren't the best for us. We are grateful for the community we have connected with, and will happily take those bonds with us. Onward and Up....

Home on the Fringe

The 'simple life' does not equal easy. Living simply is hard work. I love it. So much about life feels more fulfilling when you really have to work for it. To sprout seeds, nurture and grow a plant- and harvest it's bounty, prepare and eat it may be the most satisfying experiences in life. I'm glad we can do that here with a small yet decent amount of space to utilize.

There are days that I feel overwhelmed. Working full-time-ish and maintaining a tiny hobby farm is very time consuming. But at the end of the day- the often very long days- it's worth it. The more we are able to provide for ourselves, the less general anxiety I suffer. There's a pattern forming here, and maybe it's not the worst one to be stuck in.

It's been a year and a half since I decided to become a contractor. Every work situation comes with it's own list of pros and cons, and the flexibility that comes with being independent works best for us most of the time. The unpredictable cash flow has served up it's fair share of challenges though. Some months we can rake in a couple grand a week, sometimes we can go weeks without work if the weather is bad enough. Sometimes, like this time, we work hard for weeks on end and wait far longer than we should have to for some dough.

One thing I've noticed though.. each lull that we've had in our cash flow has become easier to weather over time. Even the worst lull- this past winter lost us almost three months of work, we still had a stocked freezer from the summer before. If it wasn't for our garden and the pantry stocked with grains, it would have been a very hungry winter.

This time around, we have livestock. I've been making a habit of stocking up on feed for them every time I cash a check, and thankfully in the warmer seasons there's an abundance of free food growing for all of them. The rabbits can be harvested for meat if need be, the chickens lay eggs pretty well daily, and the goats are our security alarm/weed control/companions.

This gap in our money situation is the second longest one we've faced, and yet we are still rich in abundance. I may not have money for the phone bill or the grocery store, and rent may have to wait, but there's no longer the check-to-check fear of going hungry. Gardens+livestock=security.

Unfortunately, when money comes into play, so does my anxiety. It's almost as though my internal system is trying to tell me something. It would be far less stressful a life if we didn't have to trade so much of our time for money, when we could spend our time working to sustain ourselves without it. But there's all these things that come with being a part of society that require that loot.

So for the time being, we have made ourselves at home here in the fringes of society. It works better out here in a rural community where barter and trade are still a thing, and there's lots to go around. If ever the day comes where proverbial shit meets fan.. you know. Once the dust settles, we might just be better off.