dystopia « Robin Writes

For what seems like 40 days and 40 nights, it’s been raining. Actually, I think, it was more like a week or so. Every. Single. Day. And most nights.

The charm of listening to rain on a metal roof was quickly quashed.

Woke up this morning to silence (except the constant meow from the cat who thinks that 5:30 a.m. is an acceptable breakfast time).
I jumped up—okay, staggered; had a wee bit last night, because even preppers and homesteaders have to kick loose now and again—and looked outside.

Blue sky. Not a single cloud.

I was sure I was suffering morning-after delusions, but nope—the weather persisted. Add a NW wind and a temp just below 80, it was perfect!

And supposed to stay that way for the whole week . . . we’ll see.

So after a rather late breakfast at the local café, I started to play catch-up on all the outdoor chores. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with rain itself, but prefer to take shelter during thunderstorms like any other sane individual.

Stop laughing!

And some things just can’t be done when it’s that wet, like the garden. However, now, weeds are much easier to pull and, thanks to the breeze, I’ll be able to till again tomorrow. Pretty much a weekly event until I mix up my weedkiller: Dawn, water, and vinegar. Can’t spray the plants you want to keep, though—they’ll be dead by the time you hit the end of the row if you miss the weeds.

Tomatoes had to be tied up and I have a few rows of complete or near-complete crop failure, so those have to be re-seeded. On the other hand, I’ve tripled my blueberry crop from last year, if all goes well, and I will have FIFTEEN whole blueberries in another week!

Laundry, too, needed to be done. Since I use the sun to dry things, it’s really helpful for it NOT to be raining. Yes, I have a dryer. No, it’s not yet hooked up. And I prefer it that way. We’ll cross that off the neverending list in November.

My husband picked today to start the bathtub removal—and I’m happy to report that it has indeed been removed and relocated to its new home across the road, with only the loss of the hot water pipe, which in turn commenced in a very clean bathroom floor—so he’s been tied up with this for about six hours. That means the chainsaw hasn’t been run, and the pasture hasn’t been mowed.

But that’s okay—what isn’t done today will be done the next, during the beautifully sunny but 90-degree day coming up.

I’m sweating just thinking about it . . .

You’re never done prepping. You could have all the gadgets and tools, all the skills, all the food storage and everything else, but you still carry on. Why?

First, because the work is never done. Oh, sure, you can store MREs and shelf-stable food for months or years, but you probably want better than that, right? So, a garden doesn’t plant and weed and harvest itself, it doesn’t prepare its own soil for the next year, and I can certainly testify that it doesn’t build its own deer-proof fence!

Thirty rows of crops this year, plus a six-tree orchard, a couple grape vines, and some strawberries and blueberries—and, if it came down it, that would maybe, just maybe, be enough to feed us throughout the year until the next harvest.
Of course, yes, we do have stored supplies, things that aren’t easily made from scratch and a few treats, not to mention supplies to make other things. But those are supplements, not three meals a day. Providing we have a good crop, along with our storage, we could likely hold out for a year or so . . .

If we’re willing to eat ketchup sandwiches.

I jest. But food is only one thing to keep up with:
You’ll always have housework and laundry and cooking. And gardening.
Assume you have a security system, fencing and whatnot. You have to check that fencing, and probably repair it from time to time. Along with that, you have defensive skills to practice, knives, guns, your weapon of choice.
Vehicle and tool maintenance.
Clearing and cutting firewood. That’s a chore, and it takes a long time because you’ll need a ton of firewood if you have no power—it gets used up quickly, especially if you have no other heating or cooking sources.
Learning and practicing other skills, like baking or canning or small engine repair. We have a lot of those, it seems.
Plus, if you have animals—which we don’t, yet—there’s daily feeding and training and care, besides medication or first aid when needed.

Of course, if you’re like us, you’re still in the developmental stage. There were things here, yes, like a house and a barn, but we haven’t quite finished remodeling the house, and that barn, remember when it was packed full, and then empty?

Um, it’s kind of filling up again!

My point is that while you’re building, you’re also maintaining. And maintenance will be a bit easier when the building is finished.