prep « Robin Writes

Most days, we get up with the sun and drink coffee until our brains start to function. We take care of the dog and cat, of course, and I pick up all the miscellaneous stuff from the night before, put away dishes, make the bed, all the mundane things that most people do every day.

Of course, I get to do some of that from the deck while the sun rises . . .

I do my PT and make breakfast and check on the herbs and seedlings, burn trash, and again, all those boring things everyone has to do.

And I work on business-y stuff.

After that, we have a project. Or ten.

Yesterday, I put on my shiny new red boots—which aren’t so shiny anymore—and tromped out to our newly plowed garden.

Damn, it’s big.

And before anyone mentions that it’s TOO big, let me tell you that it does take quite a lot of rows to feed two people. And trade with neighbors. Or even sell some at a local market if it comes to that.

We’re not using it all this year. We’ve doubled the size from last year, particularly since we’re here fulltime now. Of course, this year we’ll actually have more of a return, thanks to the FUD fence.

I’ll leave it to your imagination to interpret that.

Yesterday was the start of the FUD fence: twenty-some short posts in the ground, topped with 10-foot-tall poles, surrounding about 330 linear feet of garden.

Later today, the poly-something fencing arrives; we’ll attach it to the poles and be ready to roll.

In a manner of speaking. It’s not quite that simple and, I’m sure like most things, will take 2-3 times as long as we estimate. But this year, NO DAMN DEER will eat my green beans!

In other news, the peach trees we planted last fall are fully leafed out and the apple trees are budding; and I think—going out on a limb here—I’m going to have more than five blueberries this year! We’re also cultivating a wild raspberry patch. Have a ton of them out here, but these are all grouped together right by the fruit trees. And yes, we’re fencing those in too.

Once the FUD fence is finished and the garden planted, we’ll move on to the next project: more fencing. Our perimeter fence has a couple gaps on one side, some missing hogwire on another, and is completely non-existent on a third side.

Then, of course, there’s the dock and shelter by the pond, the kitchen shelter and barbeque at the campsite, the barn itself, the pasture fence, clearing, burning, and a few other things . . .

When you’re moving onto your new homestead/farm/bug-out location, it’s really easy to get lost in the moving drama itself.

Things like unpacking, getting rid of even more “stuff,” arranging, filling cabinets, and, er, transferring data can all take precedence over survival activities.

Somewhere, you have to draw the line.

First, just like with any move, you have to know where things are—you have to be able to find them, some of them in a hurry. Our weapons are secure, for example, and close at hand. Food, clothing for whatever the weather brings, hygiene; the rest is gravy.

Unless you’re like me, and can’t stand the chaos for very long, and unless you’re working at one of those job thingies. Like me.

We’ve been here just over a week now. Completely unpacked and arranged and cleaned up and out.

I HAD to. Trust me, it’s for my sanity.

I also had to work—one more book for RHP coming out this month. But again, for my sanity, I can’t sit at my desk and work for very long at a stretch without getting up and doing something, anything!

So I planted my herbs and started some seeds. We’ve ordered the fencing for the garden and I planted some rosebushes. I’ve baked several loaves of bread to get us going and done all the rest of the cooking and cleaning and laundry.

Okay, so hanging all the laundry on the clothesline isn’t as much fun as I remembered from when I was a kid, but it’s not bad and it’s great exercise! Rain, however, can put a damper on things. Ha.

Then again, it’s an excuse to wear my new rain boots:

We hired a man to plow the garden; it was cheaper and faster than buying a plow to use a couple times a year and it’s nearly time, or even a bit late, to get some things in the ground. Remember, though, as much fun as garden catalogs are to read, don’t get carried away. Plant what you like to eat; otherwise, it’s a lot of hard work for very little return.

And yes, I did mention a fence for that garden. Depending on where you live, you may end up feeding the wildlife instead of your family. Here, we need a 7-8-foot-tall fence to keep out the damn deer. Picturesque, yes; major pests, also yes.

Don’t forget, too, all the other projects you’d planned. For us, we’re finishing the dungeon, aka lean-to, which has become the laundry room; also the furnace room. And we have a shower to put in, as well as the bathroom floor.

Sounds nice, or will be when it’s finished, but remember—you’re prepping here, and the other things won’t wait. SHTF certainly won’t.

Animals, crops, people. That’s your order of importance. The bells and whistles can come later, but if there’s ever a time to NOT put off today what you can you do tomorrow, this is it. You really never know what may come tomorrow, especially weather. Always have a backup plan for chores.

Take the time to practice shooting or using your weapon of choice; check your fence lines, or build or repair them. Keep your cash stash handy—it’s too easy to use a little here, a little there.

And take time to enjoy your new place. It’s hard, when there’s so much to be done, but do it anyway. Then you’ll know what makes it all worthwhile.