Just a friendly reminder:



To enjoy the lush abundance of our natural world. . .



To look for pockets of beauty hidden among the leaves. . .



To take pleasure in singular moments along life's trail. . .



And to keep your walking slow and deliberate, moving ever forward to a better tomorrow.


Photos from last Spring at the cabin. :-)

I've said before that I like to work for fun and it seems I've finally found some like minds.  I saw Better Off on a list of "What I'm Reading" on someone's blog and I was struck by the concept of flipping the proverbial switch.  I found it at the library and devoured it in a few days.

Eric Brende was a student at MIT when he started to wonder just how much technology was enough for human function and productivity.  When he became a graduate student in their science and technology department, he spent a year doing research for his thesis.  His project?  Take himself and his new wife off to the Heartland to a community so advanced it made the Amish look strikingly 21st century.

He won't disclose the location or exact religious sect (somewhere between Amish & Mennonite) of the community, but prefers to call the folks there "Minimites," getting by on the minimum technology required for happy productive lives.  There's no phone, no lights, no motor cars, no motorized anything.  He expects to meet super hard core folks who work themselves to the bone, but instead find people united in the idea of taking joy in work.  They get together in the pretext of laboring (hoeing, plowing, barn-raising, threshing) but spend about half the time in leisure and fellowship.  And they are remarkably productive folks!

He introduces us to the people of the community, some of the workings of their church, and the impressive ability they all have of learning to accept each other's differences.  The folks manage to raise cash crops, provide for themselves, and stay out of debt.  Of course, when you're not buying the next motorized this or that for the farm, funds are much easier to hold onto.  One of the most impressive things to me, and something I'd like to duplicate, is the sense of community work--folks getting together to hoe another's garden, stopping in to help at opportune times, sharing tasks that seem mundane by adding a social component.  He found time went much faster when there was chatting along the way.

During his time in the Minimite community, Eric Brende's wife becomes pregnant.  They choose to have a home birth with a Minimite midwife.  Interestingly, he said the most dangerous part was when he drove to get the doctor in his old Ford Escort (the Brende's kept their car).  They stay another six or more months after the baby comes.

While they ultimately left the Minimites when the project was over, the Brende's kept many of the techniques they learned in their time there.  They mow the yard with a manual mower, school the children at home, do not own a computer and spend lots of time walking.  At one point, though I'm not sure now, Eric even had a rickshaw business ferrying people around town.

Upon further reflection, I was really impressed by this book and the community.  In my ideal Appalachia, I'd live in a place like this.  Of course, maybe we'd have a few solar panels so Mike could play his records. . .

No, I haven't totally given up over here. ;-)  It seems that when you are having a life change, there's so much to think about and not much to write about.  Well, maybe that's not true.  I just don't know quite how to put it all down, or what to put down.  For fear of scaring off men readers, I hesitate to post what I'm experiencing right now.  But then again, the only men I know who read this blog are my dad and my husband.  They can probably take it.

Let's just recap, shall we?

This past weekend, Mike and I entertained two days in a row!  We don't have visitors but once a month or so, so things like this are quite exciting.  Anna and Mark braved bitter, bitter cold and wind and snow to come over on Saturday.  I had promised Mark the World's Best Cheeseburger from Little's Quick Check in Seven Mile Ford, so he came willingly.  Returning home, or blowing in as it were, we enjoyed some of Tammy's Cream Cheese Brownies.  Absolute heaven.  Absolute.  We also played Clue by candlelight and Anna beat Mike.  Mark and I played, but you know, we're not quite as advanced in devious-ness as they are.

In the night, the storm windows totally iced over and made for a lovely effect when I raised the shades.  Sunday, we had breakfast at church and I made the World's Best French Toast using Tammy's Challah and a recipe taken from the Splendid Table.  Wondrous!  Orange Zest and Anna's fresh eggs.  The slightly sweet challah.  It was great.  After, I made lunch for our friends Jody and Katharine.  I made Swedish Meatballs using Tammy's Oven Method and it was quite a relief.  Energy is not hitting an all-time high around here lately.

So there.  Got that covered.  Seems it was a Very Tammy Weekend.  :-D

How've I been?  That's the favorite question of people lately.  They love to call me "Little Mama" and ask me if I'm getting enough vitamins or if I'm having weird cravings.  I usually say, "Fine."  Really?  Well, the nausea is easing up, but still makes itself known.  I'm thankful for this, it's God's little reminder everything's moving along.   My face is now that of a 13-year-old's.  Well, when I was 13.  Not too pimply, but oily for me.  One day I woke up with dark circles under my eyes and they haven't gone away since.  Should have known I was pregnant right then.  The waistline is getting a little bulgy, but noticeable only to Mike and me and those who have the right to see my tummy.  I'm also learning the simple joys of utilitarian bras.  Enough said.  Might just burn anything that's got a wire in it.  Now, enough said.

I'm pregnant and I'm happy.

Sunday evening, Mom and I bonded over baby stuff.  We went through all the stuff she had saved from me and made a list of what else I'll need.  I was pleased and surprised at all the things we won't have to buy.  I've got a baby bath tub, portable bassinette (for the grandparents at the cabin), loads of baby blankets and quilts, a good number of sleepers, some hooded towels, and several unisex super-cute outfits.  There's also a walker, swing, baby carrier (not of the car seat kind) and crib, all still in great shape.  Leave it to my mother to have a high chair reupholstered.  ;-) 

Knowing I have these things reassures me, though there's still a good bit left to get--cloth diapers, clothes, and such.  It's just great to know that I'll be consuming less with this baby.  It also thrills my mother to no end to know I'll be using some of the same things she did for me.  We found the most adorable sleeper, which should be just right for the baby--it's covered in little jolly Santa's and should fit just right come Christmas.  I've got visions of a tiny green knitted pixie hat dancing in my head. . .

The word on the street is Americans are using a little less gas.  Finally!  I'm all for carpooling as much as you can.  I do it 85% of the time, but then again, I have Mike to entertain me.  It also helps that we live one block from a grocery store--perfect for when your pregnant wife simply must have blueberry juice or macaroni from the cardboard box.  :-D

Times marches on at the Nichols' Homestead.  It's been a week of a little snow, a little cold and a lot of conversations.  We're preparing for the garden and it won't be but a few more days until I start my onion seeds.  Next week the berry bushes will come and then it will be March!

Spring catalogs have already started arriving and while we don't get many, one really rather tempts me.  I'm no longer a child and I don't have any yet, but I love Magic Cabin.  There's always beautiful drawings of their items and children playing with them.  There are plenty of toys for creative play and lots of woodsy woolly things.  It's one of the few catalogs that makes me want to shop.  Their partnership with the Virginia Department of Forestry does make a difference. . .

Let's see this week--hmmmm. . . went with krusig on Sunday to a ladies' spa day at Mary Alice Hardin's Nature's Powers Center.  Mary Alice is a budding herbalist and environmental educator and always has the best activities planned.  This time we made all natural spa treatments: miracle grains facial scrub and mask, lavender toner, homemade lotion and bath salts.   We also soaked our feet and did reflexology with lavender salve.

We had planned to go hiking Sunday, but the winds were so violent that staying seemed much better.  While out at Nature's Powers (in the country near the old Davis Homeplace) we got to see Mary Alice's solar and wind-powered home.  It was a yurt style with all the normal things we have in our homes--big fridge, washer, dryer, hot water, TV.  However, everything was powered by a big windmill and a giant solar panel.  Being on the top of a small ridge, the house gets plenty of wind power.  The day we were there gusts were up to 60 mph!  The house is heated using a masonry stove.  A wood fire heats the stones, which are designed to circulate the hot air, keeping the house warm for 24 hours or more.  It also had an oven perfect for making pizzas. :-)

The rest of the week has been quiet so far.  I've been knitting on a second pair of socks for Mike and anticipating a three-day weekend.  That, and fighting off the urge to order a flower press from Magic Cabin. ;-)

Oh, yeah--Happy Valentine's Day!!  Spread love any way you can! :-D

Winter seems to have taken a vacation 'round these parts.  While it might have been three degrees a couple of weeks ago, today's forecast is for seventy.  Tired piles of snow still sit in parking lots and Hungry Mother Lake was still mostly frozen when we were there on Sunday.  We've been blessed with lots of rain and with it, lots of fog.  Mud season has officially started.

We traveled out to Miller's Creek today for a bit of addressing work and it was a good thing I didn't try to go alone.  The road was solid, squishy mud in many places and it was a bit of a challenge to navigate some of the hills.  It was wonderful, really, to see everything so moist and refreshed.  We're still what you'd call "below normal" but the rain and snow have been coming frequently.  Miller's Creek looked a lot more hopeful than it did back in the heat of summer.

I've been reading a lot about Appalachia and the Blue Ridge range lately, and it's got me thinking about where we're going.  Used to be muddy roads were all we had, long ago in some time I can only dream about.  In those days we were what you'd call "isolated".  But the interstate came through and we've been changing and growing ever since.  Towns are still small, but some are growing in ways that make me nervous.  Wytheville is getting a Starbucks.

When Mike and I were thinking about where to live and before we had real jobs, we decided to live in Marion.  Wytheville, we thought, had too much going on.  Real estate is higher there, too.  We would have paid much more for our house if we'd chosen Wythe County.  Turned out well for us.  We're near my family and the hospital (should the need arise) and away from the traffic.  Well, the kind of traffic a town of 8,000 can bring. :-)

With all the hotels and proposed shopping areas in Wythe County came a Sheetz--Gas Station of the Future.  I went there today for a soda and was rather surprised.  They have a counter where you can get various hot dogs and hamburgers and coffees.  You don't talk to a person to order your food--you punch it in on a computer screen.  One look at that told me I didn't need a cappucino.  It's the middle of nowhere!  We're supposed to be known for down-home, personable service.

Makes me think of this poem.  I've posted it before, but it still rings true.  Makes me think of Blue Mountain Mama and her work against mountain top removal. . .

It's changing here.
I know it.
Everywhere you look
somebody's putting in
a new road,
a new house,
a new business,
a new something-or-another,
and I know we're growing,
we need some of that . . .
but we're changing the beauty out of things.

It's not like
you can't tear down
a mountain.
Anymore, you can
and people do,
more or less?
So what's one mountain,
more or less?
Level off the tops,
we might have something to farm.

I never thought much about progress
until now,
and I certainly never thought of myself
as against it,
but it's turning out I am against it.
And it's not because progress is bad.

It's because progress--
the way we're doing it--
is so ugly.
A mountain is beautiful.

I'm young
I know that,
and probably rash,
but I swear
I hope I die
before the only thing that's left
that takes your breath away
around here
is the smell.

From Jo Carson, collected from her life in Appalachia

When something breaks around here, I'm the first to say that it's just another lesson about the perils of materialism.  I was the girl who used to buy things just to look at them and now I find it increasingly easier just to go to a store, take it in with my eyes and leave it on the shelf.  One of God's clever gifts to us is that the things we work so hard to get, and place so much emphasis on the "getting," are so easily destroyed.

The past week or so, I've been stirring myself to life in the mornings by mixing up some hot chocolate from a mix my mom gave me.  Each day I reach into the cabinet and pull out my most favorite mug.  I got it at the Asheville Folk Art Center.  It looks rather like the Northern Lights flashing over a brown Winter hillside, and reminds me of the time Mike and I traveled mountain roads a few years ago in wonder of them.

And no, it's not broken.  And I don't want it to.  And it would be an especially hard lesson about materialism if I ever dropped it. 

Now I'm nervous.

Another lesson about what really matters.

If you'd been to my house in the past five days you would have seen me doing one of three things: knitting, sewing, or cooking.  I like to think the photo at right pretty much captures me--in between meals or projects or tidying.  Knitting goes everywhere.  There was the quick jaunt over to Elk Garden, but mainly I've been focused on some long overdue home-making and keeping.  While I pondered on it all weekend, I finally decluttered the Apiary/Craft Room yesterday morning. 

I took the old quilt off the bed and laid everything out on top of the wool blanket.  I figured a blanket would be easier to vacuum once I was done with the World's Craftiest Mess.  It made me think of Bella Dia's lovely poem about cleaning her studio on a snowy evening.  I sorted through threads older than my mother, notions older than me, a never-ending supply of "handy needle" packages, tiny bits of fabric, and enough vintage buttons and packaging to make any crafter drool.  That's what happens when you're me in my family.  You get every one else's craft supplies.

And junk.

Good thing I've learned to be a heartless declutterer (my own new word, thank you).  I got rid of things that would have made a die hard crafter cry.  I won't even mention them because I don't want nasty comments.  Let's just say I took a really hard look at what I thought I would realistically use in my lifetime (which will be 100 years) and stared the notions in the face and put them in the trash.  This is what I've learned over the years of being an only child surrounded by incredibly generous people.  I've had to watch each acquisition lest things get out of control and I've managed to train myself to keep the messes at bay.  Now really, this isn't all about me or my ability to sort things into piles for recycling, trash and Goodwill.  Nope.

It's about Stuff.

Well, Stuff and The Crafter and the Conflicts that Arise Between Them.

You see, I don't really know how being a crafter fits into my simple living philosophy.  Maybe it's a bit of self-sufficiency.  Maybe it's me recycling things like old sweaters and pillow cases and skirts into new useful things.  Maybe it's about not going out and buying new when it can be remade for close to free.  Those  things are good.  They work.  But what about beyond the recycling, beyond me making things for my family?  There's the problem--the urge to get stuff to make more stuff that I don't know what to do with.  That and my conflicting feelings about selling my stuff.

In the evening, I settled onto the couch to read some magazines my Grandy gave me--Redbook and Good Housekeeping.  They were full of crazy ads (and even crazier content!) for things we just don't need.  Redbook featured an ad for a branded breast implant--branded?!  Good Housekeeping was cleaner, but still pushed over the top clothes and decorating--neither of which I have time or desire or money for.  It's all what they tell me I should want.  I sat on the couch scoffing and thinking that my Appalachian Trail Journeys magazine never has stuff like this. 

I've been mulling this over for weeks now--how inconsistent it seems for me to be constantly making something in the Winter months when one of my biggest goals is to live in agreement with nature.  I don't know if I have an answer.  I can't say I'll stop sewing or knitting.  I can't say I don't want my life void of any beauty but the natural kind (well, maybe I can, I don't know).  I've got a creative side for something.  I guess I just have to figure out what it is. 

Today, I finally sat still long enough to watch the Story of Stuff (see linky photo at left).  Really sums things up for me, and confirms the old adage, "They just don't make stuff like they used to."

Maybe for now I'll scale back.  Maybe for now I'll concentrate on my small stash of fabrics and yarns and think about how to make peace with stuff.  Maybe for now I'll stick to projects that are needed and the few custom requests that come my way.  I'll wear the rest of my stuff out and then make new.

Oh yeah, and you can bet some photos of WIP's are coming soon. 

There's more snow in the forecast, and likely more crafting, too.  I think I might finally be finding my rhythm for 2008.  I'm not one to believe in New Year's Day and the idea of a fresh start.  I'm more of a circular sort of gal--circular needles, round pies, a cyclical year.  So I see January as more of a hunkering down, a preparation to stand in the winds of Winter and glad acceptance of its blessings.

The snow, though it did keep us (and a good number of others) from work, marked the start of a new cycle for me.  One where I'm not as nervous about my own creativity (and the accompanying challenges), one where I'm determined not to let others steal my joy, and one where I'm determined to find what really matters and cling to nothing else.  That's why I love snow so much--it symbolizes so much hope, so much saturation, a quenching and completion of the spirit.  The earth is well-fed by its moisture and my heart is lightened by the sparkle of the sun on its icy surface.

Yesterday was warmer, around 40, and there was a great deal of thawing.  I ventured out to run errands and finally get Mike some health insurance.  Outside of my normal 8 to 5 work-world, people were pleasant, appreciative and encouraging.  I got several compliments on my Blueberry Land hat and scarf.  One of our regular tellers at the bank even asked me to make a hat for her daughter.  She gave me her card and some suggestions, so soon I'll be at work on it.  Sometimes, it's good for the spirit to take a day off of work and not go much of anywhere beyond your own town.  No vacations to pack for, no car to unload--just a jaunt around town to get a little reminder that the world can be quite a pleasant place when your heart is open.

wetkneefarm posted about this important issue on her blog, but since it's friends-only, I asked her if I could post it here for more visibility. . .

We need your help to prevent Dominion from building a coal-fired power plant in Wise County, Virginia.

Why Should I Care?

* You might be affected by the pollutants.Due to prevailing wind patterns, the smoke from the plant is going to wander across Virginia and well into North Carolina. The U.S. Forest Service came out in opposition to the plant due to the air quality problems they expect in Linville Gorge, NC, as a result of the plant. Air pollutants from the Wise County plant will reach Shenandoah National Park, the Great Smokies National Park, and Northern Virginia within 72 hours of emission. Even if you don't live in Virginia or a nearby state, the power plant is going to emit 5.3 million tons of CO2 annually, a huge contribution to global warming.

* You might be paying for it. Dominion wants taxpayers to pay for the $1.6 billion construction costs of the plant along with a mandatory 14% increase in profits for the company. This cost estimate does not include costs of any equipment or technology to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.

* The plant will affect the Clinch River, which is ranked by the Nature Conservancy as the number one river worth protecting in the country. The Clinch River contains 30 endangered freshwater mussel species and 17 endangered fish species, some of which are found nowhere else in the world. The proposed power plant would use up to 1 million gallons of water per day from the plant, which during drought years could amount to at least 2% of the total daily flow of the river. The plant would also emit mercury and other pollutants which will lower the Clinch's water quality, and since the plant is located right on the bank of the Clinch, spills are likely.

* The plant will harm the health of local residents who are already too poor to have access to health care. Thousands of people in our region flock to RAM every year, a free medical clinic which provides many of them with their only source of medical care. Due to the Carbo coal-fired power plant ten miles away from the site of the proposed plant in Virginia City, Wise County already has the highest rates of asthma in Virginia and these rates are expected to rise.

* Dominion has the local politicians in their pocket. Throughout the process, Dominion and the local politicians have steamrollered over any opposition. No other utility companies have been approached to bid on the project, so Dominion has no incentive to give Wise County a good deal. At least two of the politicians supporting the plant have been given hefty campaign donations by Dominion --- $5,000 to Phillip Puckett and $2,000 to Dan Bowling. Dominion also paid for hotel rooms and meals in Richmond for several politicians and signed them up to speak in favor of the plant at the SCC hearing. The Wise County Board of Supervisors, who should be protecting the best interests of the community, passed a resolution in favor of the plant in an "emergency" meeting which was not publicized until a few hours before hand. Dominion is so sure that their plant will get approved that they began site construction months ago even though they have not yet received a permit.

* Environmental racism should matter to everyone. For at least a hundred years, rich corporations have exploited poor Appalachians, extracting our resources and leaving us with the environmental fall out. They promise us riches which never materialize and count on us to be too poor and downtrodden to speak out. The proposed Virginia City power plant is no exception. Dominion has won over the local politicians and some of the population with misdirection and outright lies. Those who haven't been won over are afraid to speak up for fear of property destruction or harm to their families.

What Misdirection and Lies?

* Dominion promised 800 new jobs as a result of the Virginia City power plant. These jobs will only be available during the construction process (which has already begun without a permit) and are likely to be filled primarily or entirely by out-of-state skilled workers. After the power plant opens, the plant will provide 75 permanent jobs at the plant and may produce an associated 300 jobs at mountaintop-removal sites. These jobs will help maintain Wise County's dependence on coal while preventing diversification of our economy. Degradation of our environment resulting from the power plant will prevent the growth of our budding ecotourism economy.

* Dominion promises that the plant will be clean. But the carbon sequestration techology which they have promised us won't be available for at least 10-20 years! The Wise County Board of Supervisors are too enthralled by Dominion's promises to have demanded any advanced technology at the plant.

( What Can I Do? )

 

Saturday, we embarked from the Blackberry Bungalow at 5:15 in a drizzly rain.  This should, perhaps, be the time to revel in the joys of rain in the past few weeks.  It's rained at least one day each week and really made a big difference in Hungry Mother Lake and the Holston River.  It was so encouraging to travel the Cherokee Foothills Parkway in South Carolina and see the waterfall along the roadside.  When we came through at Thanksgiving, it was a mere trickle.  Now, the waters are rushing once more.  Mike turned the car around and we jumped out to take pictures.  It was an idyllic early Winter scene.  The beech and red oak leaves were still clinging to the trees, giving the waterfall a nice Autumnal touch.

Down here in the land of plenty (plenty o' shopping centers, plenty o' pavement), I've busied myself with knitting on the old sock.  After about ten months of knitting, working on other projects, fretting, working on other projects, and fretting a bit more, I've finally finished the first sock.  It wasn't so bad, the pattern was logical and well-written and it fits perfectly.  I've started the second one and promise not to take so long to make it.

The weather is warm here, though the weather guys keep saying that upper 40's is cold.  I've been on good behavior and have been reading lots of books.  Mike and I even broke down and got metal water bottles (since they're practically chained to us, most of the time), just like wetkneefarm, one more step to being plastic free.  Though, the Tupperware.  I just love Tupperware. . . I'll be so glad to return to the driving winds and maybe some snow. 

Used to be, I wanted to rake them in, mass-quantity style, and revel in my accumulation.  Then came the year when I finally got tired of trying to keep my room clean, in all its "stuff"iness, and just got rid of lots of things.   It was the start of my journey to simplicity, one I'm still on today.  This year, I've felt a little funny about Christmas gifts.  Mike and I have been picking up things here and there at festivals and artisan centers and farmers' markets that we think the people we love will love.  The bottom line is that all of them have all they need and Christmas is like taking too many bites of pie after a Thanksgiving buffet.  It's just too much.

I love what No Impact Man says about giving gifts that bring people together.  Most people feel that Christmas is about being with the ones you love.  While I feel it's about the most divine love, I do agree that family time plays an important role in the Christmas Experience, be it good or bad, stressful or easy.  Gifts that make people laugh, soften their hearts and create pleasant memories are really the best.  Why didn't I think of that?

I've got most of our gifts squared away for Christmas already, most handmade (because I'm frugal) or made by people I got to meet when I bought them.  I wanted gifts that reflected both the giver and receiver, uniting them in the Christmas Spirit.  Mike's mother will get frozen Swedish meatballs that Mike and I will make that she can share with her family.  Mike's dad will get bundles of firewood to build fires that everyone can sit and watch and warm by.  Grandy will receive biscuits to share with Denny and Virgie.  Craig and Grandad will get a Christmas Eve meal from mom and me. 

Other gifts are quirky, meant to be reminders of good times shared with the receivers.  I have to wonder at what people will think when they open up some of them.  Some of my gifts bring people together and some don't, but it sure makes me ponder over what the Christmas Gift is all about--love, happiness and hope.  I had never thought of the gift of time as something people would want, like they would turn up their noses and demand shiny wrapping paper with pretty bows.  Now that I think about it, time might be just the "thing" to hand out next year.

While I'm linking to other blogs, I'll point out wetkneefarm and her experience flying over a mountain top removal site in the Forgotten Virginia.  It seems all too easy to dismiss people and places in need when you haven't seen their trials, but that makes them no less important.  So, in the spirit of Blue Mountain Mama and her tireless efforts to end mountain top removal, I present a sneak peek of Anna's flight over Wise County, Virginia. . .



Sludge dams, valley fill, life totally absent.  All in the name of our growing "needs" for electricity.

It's happened. 

Fires of any kind, including grills and cookstoves fired by solid fuels, have been banned in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forests until mid-December.  The streams are very dry and the grasses have slowed their growth enough that mowing just brings up clouds of dust.  This is the Appalachian rainforest.  What has happened?

I'm not sure what this means for my weekly campfire programs at Hurricane Campground, but I do know it means we need to pray for rain.

The old-timers say this is the driest year they've seen all their lives.

Today I am sitting in the living room studying up on my nuts--acorns, hickories, walnuts, beechnuts. . .  After weeks of hiking with the constant threat of head injuries from falling acorns and who-knows-what injuries from fallen acorns littering the trails, I've decided to do a campfire program at Hurricane on nuts.  This is the week I've gone nuts.

It's funny, as burned out as I was by the time I finished college, I still love to learn.  It slows my hurried brain and helps me to find peace.  I've been needing that lately.  It's rained a bit, but the temperature holds steadily in the eighties each day.  The average is seventy.  I need not to be so linked to weather and climate, but I can't help it.  I started my life wishing for more snow and not much has changed all these years later.

Somewhere there is a purpose in it all and I find pieces of it every day.  October is hurrying past me.  I'll force it to slow down by collecting nuts, hanging laundry and savoring these stereotypically "beautiful" days.

Last night, Mike and I were the first paying customers at Barbara Kingsolver  and Steve Hopp's new local foods restaurant, the Meadowview Farmers' Guild.

When we heard about the place from our pastor and his wife, who had been invited to a private meal there the night before, we were ecstatic.  They said they loved the food, though some thought it a bit pricey, and recommended we go.  After chatting with some other folks at the Apple Festival, we hopped in the car and sped off to Meadowview.  I was nervous the whole way, thinking loads of people would be lined up and that we might not even get a chance to eat there.

We arrived a little after five and they weren't open yet.  A chef-like man invited us in anyway.  The ladies inside ushered us into the general store part while we waited until the official opening at 5:30.  We perused an interesting selection of local goods: Route 11 potato chips, local squash, Whitetop maple syrup, grains ground at White's Mill, and so on.  The lady at the counter conversed with us about Ms. Kingsolver wanting to purchase another downtown building for a micro-brewery.  I was thinking "They must have great credit to get all these loans," and then later it came to me--she's a best-selling author.

Seated at our table, Mike and I set to work looking at the menu.  The selection was definitely seasonal and had things that sounded interesting.  The food was, well, the food you get at a restaurant's first night.  Almost, but not quite.  I could make better food at home, but I hold out hope that in a few months, things will be quite different.

I took pictures along the way, but I don't know, the whole made me feel rather funny.  Ms. Kingsolver and Mr. Hopp came into the restaurant and did not speak to the guests.  When the chef (who was very friendly) told Mr. Hopp we were their first paying customers, he did smile.  The Kingsolver unit sat over in a corner with some guests of their own the rest of the time we were there.  I guess I expected a simple "Welcome."

It's odd to me, and a little (or a lot) puzzling.  The family as a whole seems so personable in the book.  I don't know, I really don't.

So, there it is.  A mixed review and a sudden lack of desire to finish Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.  Maybe later.

As a simple-living environmentalist, it's easy to feel overwhelmed--as if I could never in all my born days do enough to rectify the damages of a careless human existence.  People who-shall-not-be-named have called me naive or told me not to try to save something I couldn't.  Maybe it's my Frugal Subversive attitude, or maybe it's the fact that God made me perpetually hopeful; but, I just can't seem to let the nay-sayers get me down.

I told krusig this past Saturday that I thought our television had gone out because it was God's will for our lives.  Before you get all "yeah, right" on me, I'll tell you that I think it was the next logical step in our journey for simple living.  I was really feeling like I was at a critical juncture in my life and I had prayed that God would help me to do better for myself and others.  When we came home and there was snow on the TV, the answer was there.

We'd given up paper towels, paper napkins (never had them,really), plastic pads (me only :-P), and practically eliminated using the dryer.  I honestly think that giving up paper towels was the hardest for Mike--he was convinced we needed them.  For greasy bacon, we just use newspaper that we get in the mail on Fridays (not our choice--"Current Resident").  For spills, I keep lots of clean cloths under the sink.  It wasn't so bad after all, honey.

Really, our house is much more quiet now even though we only had the TV on for an hour or so each day.  Evenings are more industrious.  I have more time to sew and Mike has more time with the website.  We can talk at supper and spend lots of time admiring the garden.  We actually take showers in the evenings and even go to bed earlier.  This makes mornings more peaceful, though we never watched TV then anyway.  Things just run more smoothly.  We still sneak in the occasional movie (listen to me, it's been a week), but only when the rest of our work is done.

Next on my list: 

• Sewing handkerchiefs and putting them in a little basket in the bathroom
• Sewing cheesecloth or mesh bags to hold produce (thanks, Rhonda Jean!)
  
• Putting a clothesline on the back porch, maybe

And for you all, the other hopefuls in this world, I offer the following links:

• No Impact Man on refusing to be realistic
  
• Christian Science Monitor on the comeback of clotheslines

How refreshing it was this afternoon to arrive home and find the house a pleasant 72 degrees, cooled by our tiny 5,000 BTU window air conditioner!  It got me to thinking about how efficient smaller homes are, when properly managed.  Awhile back, I read The Not So Big House and it praised the many benefits of living in smaller spaces.  I have to agree.

So in the fashion of the great listmakers wetkneefarm and maggie_hess, I present the benefits of bungalow living:

1. More efficient heating and cooling--I'm so thankful for the new insulation.  It's helped dramatically. 
   
2. Less electricity consumption--Fewer rooms, fewer light bulbs.  No crazy extra TV's or computers.
   
3. Quick cleaning--Two hours to do a good job on 1,080 square feet, apart from porches.
4. Automatic accumulation control--With only three closets, we're bound and determined not to become packrats!
5. Tiny bathroom--Inexpensive to remodel very nicely, when we save the money.
6. More time together--People who need their space can just go outside, or learn to like each other!  ;-)
7. A bona fide sense of coziness--krusig has said that she feels very at home at the Blackberry Bungalow both times she's visited.  That's the best complement any homekeeper could every dream of.  :-D

Aaaaah, home.  It's been a long journey for this perfectionist to adjust to living in a 76-year old bungalow, but I think this home was made for Mike and me.