Friday, February 22, 2013

Late Winter

I keep writing blog posts and throwing them out. I write them in my dreams too, but those I rarely transcribe (they aren't that profound.) It's late winter now in Minnesota, the blah is setting in, and all of my interpretations of what is going on in the world seem unpalatable to just about everyone, and I don't really need to write that way for myself to make sense of it anymore, if you know what I mean. Basically I don't feel like I have much that's positive to say, right now. I can say I love this life and love spending time with family, friends and kids. The earth truly is a beautiful garden.

Which I've felt something very much like the glory of God in this garden. It's hardest to feel that, this time of year, but sitting here in the kitchen writing, looking out at my peach tree, the tall mullein shrouded with snow like dry cacti sentinels, my peacock trellis I found in the alley (I tried to grow cucumbers on, too deep in the shade, bitter cukes.) The grapevines, white ambrosia and frontenac, on the fence, the volunteer mulberry growing out of the fence, leaning out over the 100+ frontenac starts; the volunteer Artemesia absinthium, the stand of bergamot out in the center, negra hollyhock by the bedroom downspout, the one tilting spiked and balled rattlesnake master; my favorite wild leadplant; three South American nicotiana which sprouted from second generation seed, from the jungle-like shade of the leadplant, late in the season, which may not have had time to make a third generation; the golden rod, solidago. All in the frame of this one window, snow falling, sun shining down.

I'm out of money again. Well, not really, but cash is down to maybe $75. I got a $514 phone bill yesterday. In the last month I've downloaded almost 2000 books, watched dozens of documentaries and sang along to hundreds of youtube videos. Oops, never had phone Internet before, $440 in usage charges. It's looking like I might not have phone or Internet, come April. At which time the house is likely to be up for sale. It's almost sure to sell at a loss to an investor, who would probably tear down the house and bulldoze the lot. With a thousand dollars I could spruce the place up and make it super cool and livable; in anticipation of the sale, there's a new furnace (burning fracked natural gas, which dad paid for. Which is wracking up more debt, but does make the house more comfortable than I've ever known it.) Costing not as much to heat the whole house, I think, as the $700 or so that I owe the electric company, for the two oil filled radiators to heat the kitchen, bedroom and bath, late October - mid February.

Employers are not exactly breaking down my door, two months after my little dance at big bank. I haven't been trying very hard, either. (Seems like the twilight of empire to me.)

I have until the 28th of this month to resolve the several tons of asphalt piled in the driveway, after the paver work I did, and the white pine I had intended to prop up around the garden as plant stands, otherwise the city will remove it and charge me another $500+/-. Ran out of screws, to finish the garage greenhouse. LOL.


At the same time, I turn 40 this summer. Which I heard Dr. Drew on the teevee the other day, elaborating, after that sad Mindy McCready thing, and he was like, (paraphrasing, my emphasis) if people start giving away their things, have them committed against their will, drug them into oblivion, label them clinical depressives, effectively institutionalize them for the remainder of their days (In Rome they used to kill the Christians for such a thing)...and I was like, that's it! Idiot! Give it all away. LOL. Except maybe my camping gear, so I can get the hell off this crazy train for the whole of the summer at least. Disappear myself into the wilderness for 120 days and find out what knowledge I really have that isn't basically coming from google. lol

But, alas, if you think Doctor Drew is an ass, what do you suppose big bank would have to say about giving a house and garden away?

Otherwise, don't worry about me. I've got at least 100 pounds of potatoes, cabbage, kale, assorted berries, beans, rice and flour, and about 60 bottles of house wine. Asparagus and lambs quarter will be up in six-eight weeks. Legally they can't shut off the utilities for another month at least. Oh yeah, that condemnation thing. LOL :)


Luciddreams said...

you should migrate my way. A man with your abilities is greatly needed in the foothills of the Piedmont. Now if I can just get Hepp across the pond it'll be on like donkey kong.

John D. Wheeler said...

Yikes! I'm extremely paranoid about going over on my cellphone Internet. I do pay quite a bit for the privelege of unlimited DSL, though.

I'm sure the bank would object strongly to you giving the house away, but they probably wouldn't give a flying fig leaf about the garden. And I do believe there is someone with an eighth acre farm in your vicinity who might be interested in some of what you have....

Jeff Z said...

John- you're right. I was fortunate to be able to get some of the semi-wild black raspberries that WHD has growing all over the yard last year. And some Red Calabash tomatoes- fantastic growers, those.

This time of year is not easy for those of us in Minnesota.

WHD- I'd rather see you stay in Minnesota than have your plants-- but it seems like you have a strong urge to travel right now. I'm not one to give advice, but it seems that a change of scenery might be good for the soul.

William Hunter Duncan said...


Yeah, that Doomstead venture is a port of call. Much to establish there, as a foundation ;)


Some big PDF's those books. Big files. Scholarly such. A proper foundation for a technically proficient doomstead, with a mind to actually BECOME civilized.

Jeff Z,

BTW - I have a meeting scheduled in the garage, for dads of young kids. We'll start a fire. :)