ballast

This list has taken longer than I expected. Every time I think about it, I realize there are more things I can add. There is so much stuff in our lives, and so much to say. It would make a good book—My Year of Letting Go. One day, one way or another, we all need to write our version of this book.

The list, to recap, represents my priority intentions for disentangling myself and my family from the sticky mess of our consumer culture. It might sound ascetic, as if I am renunciating the world, but I don’t see it that way. Rather, I am choosing to participate in life more directly, and what can be better than that?

With the exception of books, I have never learned anything from shopping. (And with the books, of course, it is in the reading, not the purchasing). When I try to do things for myself—things like growing food, building a house, and making bread—I learn something about the world and about my own place in it. And each time I feel a little more at home; a little less free-floating anxiety about the future.

I’ve been playing with a new term for what we are doing here on the land—“neohomesteading.” A wary relationship to consumerism is part of what defines this emerging culture. Real homesteaders lived on the frontiers, in the middle of the woods, and had no choice but to provide for their own needs. With us, and an increasing number of people I know of, we can get what we need for very little money just down the road, or with the click of a mouse, but still we choose to build and grow and make stuff for ourselves. (I suppose that access to high tech is also part of what makes us homesteaders neo, this desire to be independent, but connected).

Building our own small, earthen homes last year was a great kick off to this process of consumer withdrawal. After figuring out how to build a house (one that we love, that is still standing and promises lifetimes of service), everything else should be easy. Although sometimes it's the small things, like the cookies and the coffee, that are hardest to let go of.

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Without further preamble here is my own preliminary list of threads that we can snip away at, the ballast that we can jettison in the coming months and years. Generally, I’ve arranged the list from easiest to most challenging:

Cookies—these are mostly over packaged and overpriced and really not very good. We can make better ourselves, and if we want cookies badly enough, someone can bake them.

Yoghurt—now that we are getting lots of fresh milk from a local Jersey cow, there is no reason to be buying plastic containers of yoghurt. Want vanilla yoghurt, just add your own vanilla and maple syrup. (I did start a batch of yoghurt this morning and have been making kefir too, with grains recently passed along from friends.)

Bread—Again, so much better and so much more satisfying to make ourselves. Gen started a sporadic tradition of making challah on Fridays and it is delicious. I’m getting back to making bread too…starting another sourdough starter and experimenting with the no-knead method of baking.

Flour—we have a good quality Living Grain hand mill and need to get back to consistently making our own flour for bread, cookies, crackers, pancakes, etc. I also need to get back to my plan for hooking up peddle-powered grinding to expedite the process.

Sauerkraut—this spring I bought a big kitchen mandolin at the auction for slicing up whole heads of cabbage, along with a 5 gallon crock, so we are all set to go on this. I’ve made a couple of batches in the past so I know how easy it is. A great way to preserve vegetables and nutrients for the winter.

Vegetables—we’ve made a good start here, but have along way to go if we are to approach any quantity that will support us in hard times. Also need to learn a lot more about preserving fruits and veggies (planning to build a solar dehydrator for this fall). Relying on a steady supply of electricity for a freezer is questionable at the best of times (we had some near melt downs last winter with windstorms and power outages).

Crackers— Something we buy a lot of but, I think, not that hard to make. What? Flour, water, oil and salt? A few seeds or some pepper? We can bake them in our cob oven.

Soup stock—tetrapaks of stock are a waste of energy and money, although good stock is essential for a tasty soup. I want to have a stock party, get a big load of bones and cook up batches of chicken and beef stock for the freezer.

Cat food—Our cat, Barney, is earning his stay and keeping the mouse population in check, but his food is not inexpensive and seems highly processed…looking into homemade catfood recipes that are cheaper and more nutritious.

Alcohol—we might never produce a great pinot noir, but we are starting some wine grapes now and have no shortage of other fruit in the fall for making booze—blackberries, apples, plums…Making our own wine and beer would be a major item to strike from our monthly budget.

Meat—we have a few small fields perfect for some sheep—a couple of milking ewes and a meat ram. Get some wool and keep the grass down in the deal. Probably we will get a dozen chickens in the next couple of years too.

Maple syrup—we go through a lot of this as our primary sweetener. While we don’t have sugar maples, lots of big leaf maples grow on our property…not as good as for syrup, but passable, I understand.

Music—I still haven’t got around to learning the accordion, but it is still on my list. I have it out now and play around with it when I can. The broader category here is entertainment and something I think we can mostly provide for ourselves. And life lived well is naturally entertaining—commoditisation of entertainment suggests it is something apart from life.

Tea—I’ve written before about my trips to Chinatown in Vancouver for oolong tea—it’s pricey, for the decent tea, but something I love first thing in the morning (goes well with meditation). I’m very excited to report that I just ordered tea plant seeds (Camellia sinensis) from a great Canadian seed company I just discovered, Richters. It takes three years before you can harvest any tea, but I have time.

Clothing—I already have a decent sewing machine and I enjoy the process of design, so wanting to make more of our own clothes. Asher has been an inspiration here—it’s so much easier to sew a wee pair of pants than something that will fit me, and he is not (yet) embarrassed by wearing a homemade skirt (see diaper-free posting).

Baskets—I have a dear friend who makes wonderful willow baskets. Basket weaving was always a joke, but it’s a great skill and the baskets, when well made, are strong, versatile, and will last a lifetime. I want to plant some willow in our boggy land around the beaver pond and figure out some simple weaving patterns.

Iron work—My great grandfather was a blacksmith and I have a growing desire to build a small forge and a smithy, even to make simple iron products—hooks, spoons, and railings.

Energy—this is a big one and will take some time. I mostly want us to limit our requirements for electrical power, but would also like some small, local source of electricity (probably a combination of micro hydro and solar) to keep my laptop running, a stereo, and a few lights.

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This is a start. I’ll post updates on my progress and set backs as we work through the list. I understand this appears ambitious, but it's really the stuff of life. Another upside, of course, is that we can begin to reduce our need for income as we are able to provide for more of our own needs. Just as I don’t want to be a slave to consumer culture, I don’t want to be a slave to the wage economy. It is a double-headed monster.

Rather than a list of things we want in life, how about we all come up with a list of things we are ready to let go? Better that we let go of these things voluntarily, with consciousness, than waiting until they are wrenched from our grasp.

When we are not tied into the tangle of our consumption, we are free to move again.

Photo: a snail on a cinder block.