There’s a reason we concentrate on perennials here, or “Permaculture” as it’s become known in the modern era. You plant once, and with just a tiny bit of tending, you can harvest for decades.
At this point, we’ve been here for a decade, and the harvests are really rolling in.
I still plant my annual garden every year, of course. I wouldn’t be without fresh tomatoes in season, but there’s still something sad about planting something you know will be dead 100 days from now. (Even if you can cheat death a bit with tomato canning recipes.)
It’s especially hard to invest in annuals when you know you can put in the same amount of effort and bring in buckets of nutrition for the rest of your life.
For the most part, growing perennial crops comes down to digging a really good hole. There’s a technique to it, and Michael Phillips goes into it in detail in his book The Holistic Orchard (affiliate link via Chelsea Green Publishing). Beyond that, we just mulch around the plants every few years, mostly with homemade bark mulch or leaf litter raked from the woods.
That’s it.
This year, our hands-off approach to gardening has come in especially handy, since my parents are visiting for a full two weeks…right in the middle of the busy summer season.
In the past few years, the world has conspired to keep us apart, us as a family but also “us” as a species. For one reason or another, there’s been distance between neighbors, family, and friends. Political divides, social distancing, and now the separation enforced by pure economics.
It’s hard to visit the grandkids if you can’t afford to put food on the table, let alone fill your gas tank.
Everyone has their own beliefs, opinions, and theories about the events of the past few years, and I won’t bore you with mine. There is one thing that it seems like everyone can agree on…it’s been an unholy kerfuffle.
I’m someone who actually really thrives on privacy, isolation, and quiet. We don’t actually leave our land often, and we very rarely have visitors.
Still, on the occasions we do go into town, there’s rarely a time we don’t see people pulling away from each other. To me, it still seems so alien…but to someone living in town, it’s become the new normal.
Simple things, like not holding the door for the person behind you.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my personal space…more than almost anybody. The last thing I want is someone close enough to breathe on me. That was true a decade ago, and it’ll be true a decade from now.
Still, the little courtesies are the axle grease that keeps a society functioning.
Regardless of the reason for the distance, whether you believe it’s essential or frivolous, the consequences are still the same. When the little courtesies disappear, the wheels on the cart stop turning.
Protests are the only place where closeness is still the norm. Whether hosted by the “red” or the “blue” team, it doesn’t matter. We’re all brought together in what George Orwell envisioned so eloquently in his book 1984, and dubbed “the two-minute hate.”
It’s hard to see where this is all going, and I think all we can do right now is hope for the best and plan for the worst…and in the meantime, don’t forget the little courtesies for yourself, your family, and your friends.
The term “Self Care” may get a bad rap in some circles, but in a world drawn apart, sometimes that’s a good place to start. Cultivate a bit of beauty, and sit down with a cup of tea.
Everything about homesteading and this lifestyle just really comes back to that. Taking care of yourself, your family, and those you care about. Putting high-quality food on the table, and cultivating a life instead of making a living.
Spending your time following your passions, creating something meaningful, even if it’s only meaningful to you. That loaf of sourdough bread isn’t going to change the world, but it is going to nourish your family, body and soul.
Nourishing the present, and nourishing the future.
When we moved to this land a decade ago, we focused on the future, so much so that we didn’t live in the present. We built things for our future selves, and our future selves only…getting burned out in the process.
These days we strive for a bit more balance.
I could make jam out of this bowl of black raspberries. I could hold back from their fresh flavor. In the past, they’ll all go into black raspberry jam (or seedless black raspberry jelly) that I’d treasure during the long winter.
But I’ll also treasure the memory of their sweetness, picked fresh and enjoyed right out in the summer sun.
Self-care in the present doesn’t mean you’re not still planning for the future…it just means finding more balance.
As we enjoy one of our last long-aged bottles of chamomile mead, truly one of the very best batches of homemade mead (honey wine) we’ve ever made, I start another brew. It’ll be a few years before it’s at its best, but my future self will thank me.
Balance.
I kind of think of preparedness in a similar way. Like a little love note to your future self (and your family).
It says, “I really care about you, and I’m going to go out of my way now to make sure you’re taken care of, no matter what comes.”
No, you can’t plan for everything, but there are some things that are inevitable. The power will go out, eventually, no matter where you live. Things will break. Supply chains are fragile, weather is unpredictable, and the world is just a fickle place sometimes.
We grow much of our own food, store even more, and harvest plenty from the wild. Still, I know there’s always room for improvement in our families’ long-term emergency food plan. Nonetheless, it’s probably where we’re most prepared.
Other areas, like power and heat, I feel less prepared. We have solar panels, an inverter, and batteries…but that kind of system is just as fragile as the grid, believe it or not. We’ve had a single breaker blow, which took down our system for 3 days over a holiday weekend for want of a $10 part.
We keep a lot of spare parts, but you can’t prepare for everything. And, quite frankly, a system like ours isn’t practical for the vast majority of people.
I’ve had a lot of people ask me about portable power banks and other small-scale, solar-powered emergency backup systems that’d be practical in the suburbs or an apartment. Things that could keep the basics running if the grid was down for a few hours, a few days, or even a few weeks.
I’ve done a lot of research at this point, and there are some really promising options. I hope to have a really comprehensive review of portable power banks and solar “generators” in the next few months, once I’ve laid hands on and actually tested what’s out there.
We’ve been putting this Jackery portable power bank through its paces since late winter, and it’s doing quite well. Next up are the larger Ecoflow power banks. (Affiliate links)
I’m working on testing these power banks specifically because quite a few of y’all asked me for my opinion (but of course, I’m also pretty excited about having them around too). The same goes for my freeze dryer.
If there’s anything else you’re considering for your homestead, to improve your family’s preparedness, or just because it looks like a fun toy, let me know, and I’ll see if I can help. Chances are you’re not the only one looking into it, and reviews are fun to do in any case.
Leave me a comment and let me know how I can help you this month. Doesn’t matter where, or how; I’ll do my best to answer (or tell you I have no idea, I’m only human). Garden problems, looking for recipes, or simply need some help finding the perfect (something) to get you through your current project.
Or, just let me know what you’re working on at your place. I love hearing about your projects; it’s a beautiful inspiration for what comes next.
(Comments only, please. Emails tend to get lost in my inbox, and as much as I’d love to get back to each and everyone, my screen time is very limited…and things fall through the cracks, and emails get buried in my inbox. If you comment here, they’re all in one place, and it’s much easier to get back to every single one.)
Until Next Time,
Ashley at Practical Self Reliance
Ashley, your comments are interesting and, as always, right on point. Like you, I dislike the lack of politeness I see in people's interactions. Not always, but it is jarring when it happens. And, what I also notice is how much less often I see people interacting at all. It's as though in order to avoid unpleasantness, we avoid any contact including a simple head nod from a distance. We don't hold doors open for people behind us, or exchange pleasantries with the people waiting in line behind us any more. At 82, I find myself less and less relevant also.
Thk you so much Ashley fir putting some time to write. I will follow thru and expect great plump berries next year. Loving and care to you and the plants.