tectonics
December and being snowed in by the snow storm for so long highlighted a couple of things.
One is that we had a gosh darn lot of fun jousting with the being snowed in. I mean, it was four days after it snowed before the sun shone and the temperature went above freezing and we began in earnest to get the vehicle out of the place. It took quite a bit of effort over two days, shoveling deep and heavy snow off the steep parts of our road and cutting snow covered bent sapling trees loose (“plop plop” on our heads went the icy snow) and wresting their heavy snow embedded selves out of the road. Not to mention the white knuckle driving to actually get it out.
But when the vehicle and all of us were on the bridge there arose a mighty victory whoop! We had worked very hard, together, and it had been a lot of fun.
If we had not had off the farm Christmas preparations to make, I do not know how long we would just allow ourselves to be snowed in. Perhaps, probably, until it melted.
And I have my off the farm part-time employment. Which I love. And that taught me something too. My off the farm employment is pretty much firmly in the mainstream paradigm, not the homesteading paradigm. Said employment could and probably will morph as times change, and almost certainly the skills and contacts will be helpful no matter what, but it is the modern world that trots endless circles, not the homesteading world. And on the day I was actually certain that I would not be able to get out of this farm to feed horses on that farm, I also did not have a phone. The stress of being unable to let my boss know that I couldn’t get there was very traumatic.
Now, juxtapose those two things -- the stress was only, I repeat only, in the place where the homesteading paradigm meets the modern paradigm. It felt like tectonic plates grinding over each other creating earthquakes and volcanoes and deep ocean trenches. Being inside the homesteading paradigm, with all the things that might be hard or unpleasant about it, is not hard or unpleasant in itself. It is only in the overlap.
The sheer joy in the snow was personified by a giantess snow woman with baling twine hair, a cranberry necklace and pine cone belt who looked in my kitchen window for a few days, arms akimbo. And the many fastfastfast sledding trips down the various hills. She didn’t get a photo taken of her because the camera batteries had not been recharged and even at 7’ tall, she melted before the power came back on (although there is still a lump of her snow out there!).
8 comments:
I'm heart-wrenched that your camera batteries weren't up to the task! That Snow-Goddess is something I would have like to see!
Even though we're not nearly homesteaders like you folks are, because we've chosen so many things outside the mainstream, like not forcing our children into mainstream education, I'm feeling that grind a lot too. "Well, why don't you just put him in school? Then you could ... (whatever it is)." And yeah, I could. But then I'd be responsible for the fact that I've completely gone against who my son is.
Anyway, I'm glad you're back at the bloggerie!
We'll see for how long I'm prolific! I think one reason I could see the grinding of the tectonic plates differently now is because we're not so close to it . . . we've been at this awhile and have removed ourselves from most interactions because they are just too painful. Life here is good and full but I used to cry coming home from outings way too much . . . . And I think when you first start you are so much closer to and vulnerable to those pressures. I am so happy at the barn though that the people there don't realize that I'm really a hermit.
I love being snowed in. Absolutely love it.
I've never, actually, been snowed in ... in my life, and as long as my local infrastructure stays in place, we won't be, because the snow plows run all night and day during a snowstorm.
Of course, who knows what's in store this year? I may, actually, have my first opportunity to know what being snowed in feels like ;). Do I sound a little too ... hopeful?
I remember you talking a little bit about this before when you had jury duty. You had to milk the cow early, hike down, defrost and warm the truck, get home late, get stuff done at home that had to get done, get up and do it all again the next day, etc. How the stuff of your daily life seemed "inconvenient" only because you had an obligation in that other paradigm. That resonated very strongly with me then, and does so again now.
I love your hope Wendy. But the roads here were clear after a day even way out here -- it is our long private road that was impassible, and most people would think it was impassible most of the time anyway! We just say that it keeps the riffraff out.
And Annette, you said it so much better than I did!
Woman, you're crazy.
WV: mudoti - I kinda like it.
"The stress was only in the place where the homesteading paradigm meets the modern paradigm. It felt like tectonic plates grinding over each other creating earthquakes and volcanoes and deep ocean trenches. Being inside the homesteading paradigm, with all the things that might be hard or unpleasant about it, is not hard or unpleasant in itself. It is only in the overlap."
CG
There is a beautiful clarity to your above observation of the overwhelming stresses which distract people from fully realizing their own paradigm shift.
There are so many heart-wrenching distractions which pull people away from their real work, their "good work". A good reason why the Nearings and the Skeens sought the refuge of sanctuaries founded a good distance from the maddening crowd.
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