July

The beginning of the month is still hot and humid.  There's so much to do, but it's so hard to get motivated.  The Littles start going to the lakes with the men to cool off and swim in the afternoons.  They return with the cart loaded with firewood, weeds, and grass.  The fishing is horrible, but that's to be expected, given the heat.

I get up early every day to let the birds out and get the gardening done before it gets too hot.  The beats are looking good, we're starting to harvest peas and lettuce, and tiny peppers and tomatoes have started forming in the greenhouse.  The potato plants are a mess of bugs.  I pick them off every day and toss them to the birds.

Another banty returns with a clutch of chicks.  One is still missing.

The Bigs work on cleaning out the old chicken coop in the mornings, taking load after load of manure to the garden.  It always amazes me how we end up with so much manure out of one little building.  I spread the manure between my garden rows and pile it at the ends and side.  It'll make spreading easier in the fall.


We finish the fence down to the creek on our south side.  Our new neighbours get halfway to the creek on the north side before we go over to help.  We take them the chicks Husband offered for the fence work.  We talk and work together.  Arlene is waiting for berry season to start canning.  Her garden is doing well. 

The weather breaks and the rains come.  Day after day it rains and the temperature drops.  We start cooking inside again, to take the chill and the dampness out of the house.  It's sweater weather in the mornings now.

We finish the fence to the creek on the north side of Mom's property.  We start fencing the roadside.  We fence around Mom's yard and build gates for her back trails.  The tree tops and branches give us enough firewood to finish filling Mom's wood shed.

The blueberries ripen and we start picking every day.  More and more townsfolk travel through to go picking in the woods.  I put a sign out, eggs for trade.  A few people stop and ask about the eggs.  Two agree to pick a small basket of blueberries for a dozen eggs.  They come back at the end of the day.  One man has some tin at his place.  He'll trade it for eggs, chickens and a chicken pen. 

Husband and the Bigs spend three days carting logs to town, building a little chicken coop, fencing it in, and bringing home tin.  We give him four hens and two chicks, along with 3 dozen eggs.

The tin is nearly enough to finish Mom's roof.  We decide to take the rest of the siding off the trailer wall that is inside the add a room, and that's just enough to finish it.  That also exposes the insulation, which we pull out and put into the new outside wall.  It's enough to cover the west wall.  Two more to go.  Mom has a can of roofing tar, which we use sparingly to fill the old nail holes in the tin.  Leaks should not be a problem.

I get enough blueberries to make a batch of wine.  Blueberries were the reason I bought the wine making equipment.  They're coated with natural yeast, and very sweet, so I add nothing but water to the carboy and hope for the best.  I rack the dandelion and dandelion/rhubarb wines. 

Husband picks up the newly fashioned hay cutter and practices using it on the way home.  He's got a pretty good handle on it when he gets back.  It's too wet to cut for winter storage though.  The rain has helped the grass though, along with our continued rotating of the cows.  The pasture looks like it might last the rest of the summer now.

The boys and I finish the fencing down the road.  We build gates for all of the driveways.  So long as the critters don't try to cross the creek, they are completely fenced in.  The sides of the creek are very steep from winter run off, so I don't think it'll be too much of a problem.  We decide to test it with the horses, Mildred and the calves, leaving them loose overnight.  The next morning we have to walk to Brother's place to get the horses back.  They stayed within the fence, but now have too much freedom.

The rain finally settles down, and after two days of straight sun, Husband decides it's time to start cutting hay.  He starts with the north side, beside Arlene and Mel.  It's the largest clearing.  The boys and I follow along with the horse cart, raking the hay and tying it in bundles.  Most of it will be left to dry in the field, as it should, but since we expect this to be a long process, we get started right away.  Once the cart is full we take it up to the house.  We unload the bundles in the new chicken coop and open them back up.  I spread them on the floor in the pens to finish drying.

The boys go back for a second load and I go back to picking blueberries.  It takes nearly two weeks to get the clearings all cut, dried, bundled and brought back to the house.  We fill the manger in the old chicken coop- the milk room, and cover the floor with thick bedding.  We fill the old chicken coop from floor to ceiling for storage.  The hay loft above the barn is only half full when we finish.  There's not nearly enough for winter.

The elderberries ripen near the end of the month.  The Littles do an amazing job of picking them off the stems.  I start another batch of wine, elderberry with some blueberries thrown in for sweetness and yeast.

I can blueberries without sugar.  They'll probably be our sugar next winter- one of the few hints of sweetness in the long, cold, dark nights ahead.

June

It's incredibly hot out.  And humid.  It's rarely humid in the north, but this year we're into our fourth week of heat and humidity.

The garden is spotty and disappointing.  Given the heat it should be growing like crazy.  The greenhouses are doing well, but outside is slow growing.  The weeds of course, are growing like crazy.  We pull them for the birds every day- a fresh layer of weeds to cover the floor of the turkey shack every night.

We continue foraging for weeds and fiddleheads.  It's too hot for puffballs now.  I start a batch of dandelion wine.  I skimp on the sugar, so it won't be very strong.  Rhubarb is up, although not much appreciated without flour and a ton of sugar.  The boys much on an occasional stick.  I start a batch of rhubarb and dandelion wine.  I make a small batch of dandelion syrop, blending it with the birch syrop for sugar.

We dig dandelion roots and dry them for coffee.  Husband appreciates them more now, much stronger than my other tea weeds alone.  He even digs some himself when he's out and about.  We try to dig for roots farther away from the house, keeping the dandelions in the yard for greens.

We're cooking outside on the fire pit now.  We don't have to cut the branches as small, and are able to use a lot of twigs as well.  Cooking doesn't entail much.  We planted the remaining potatoes, carrots and beets for seed.  Meals are just a jar of canned meat and whatever weeds we foraged that day, mostly dandelion, occasionally lambs quarters.  We're all in the habit now of munching as we go as well, eating dandelions as we pick, and chewing on grass and clover.

The perennial bed comes to life, and I start cutting and drying chives, and some flowers and plants for medicine and tea.  I wonder if I can make tinctures with wine.  I make plantain/comfrey salves with tallow.  I plant calendula, bedstraw, bergamot, cicely and some other herbs.  I gather stinging nettle and make vegetable rennet.

We rotate the cows through the pasture every three days.  It's not enough to allow each section proper rest, but it helps.  The horses spend so little time in the pasture that we just leave them up at the barn.  They're usually in the side yard, or the garden yard, or at someone else's house.  They graze as they go.  The goats roam around loose, as always.  We never could keep them fenced in.  They never wander far though.

Sanya's horses were out behind the pasture one morning.  Brother and Sil chased them off.

We work on fencing the edge of our property, down the side of the logging trail to the creek.  Hopefully that will keep the horses out, and eventually we'll let the cows out to graze.  We cut thin poles and nail them to the trees, a crooked little fence.  We keep the tree tops and branches for firewood.  The Littles saw through the branches with the hand saw.  The basement fills slowly.

Brother and Sil take down their add a room tent and frame it in with logs.  They frame all the way around the trailer, putting the roof up over both.  They cut logs for the sides and chink it in with clay.  Poles for the roof are covered with the vinyl tent.  They soon have a solid little cabin with the drafts all sealed.  They build a bigger chicken coop beside the cabin, with a trap door/window between them.  They can heat the chicken coop with the woodstove next winter.

They fence in their growing yard and garden.  They need to protect their garden from their free ranging chickens, and the cows that will be grazing through soon.

Mom's roof leaked last winter, so we all work together to build her add a room and put a new roof on over the trailer.  She has enough lumber to frame in the walls, and press board to cover them.  The roof is covered with poles, then tin.  There's only enough tin to cover half of it.  We have to scrounge for more materials elsewhere.

We nearly fill Mom's woodshed with the tree tops and branches we cut for the roof.  We move the woodstove into the add a room.  We frame in the windows and build an archway in the trailer wall where the windows used to be.  It needs insulation and interior walls, but it'll give Mom more space and hopefully keep the roof dryer.

The first two banties to go broody both hatch their chicks, 18 little fluffballs between them.  We move them from the brooder boxes to the floor in one of the pens.  We pick weeds for them every day for two weeks, then let them out to free range.

Week after week, the other banties hatch their chicks, and we move them first to the floor, and then outside.  One of the missing hens from outside returns with a clutch of chicks as well.  Two are still missing.

Husband takes ten chicks to the farmer who gave us the calf.  He finds out the farmer couldn't drive his cows to Diego's.  They all scattered through the bush.  Most came home within a few days, but there are still a few loose.  He also caught a couple of horses that were roaming free.

We shoot a fox going after the chickens one afternoon.  I cut the meat into small pieces and put them into five gallon pails with holes in the bottom.  I hang the buckets from the fence surrounding the turkey pen.  The flies lay their eggs on the meat, then the maggots hatch and fall to the ground, providing the birds with a tasty treat.

Husband takes more parts off the tractor and delivers them to the fellow who builds cutters.  He stops and chats with the new neighbours on the way home.  Their names are Mel and Arlene, and the kids are Tommy and Ben.  They've built a small lean-to, set up a tent, put in a large garden, and have fenced off the area.  They've caught one of Sanya's horses that were in the garden before they fenced it.  They considered butchering it, but for now have it tied to a tree.  Husband offers them a dozen chicks if they'll continue working on the fenceline down that side of the property to the creek.

Lisa and Sally fence in their garden and a new chicken pen.  They dry and store weeds and grass for their chickens next winter.

Once all of the banties are out of the chicken coop, we clean it out and start drying and storing weeds and grass as well.  We clean out the hay lean to for grass storage.  We clean out the loft in the barn.

We accomplish much in the longer days, without screens and such to occupy our time.

May

Spring?  Most days are warmer now.  The deep snows are gone, with only a bit left in the shadows of the trees, along fence lines, and sides of buildings.  It's melting much quicker, turning the yard into a small lake. 

We frame in the water barrels in the pasture to keep the animals from dumping them.  They're against the chicken coop wall to collect rain water from the roof.  Emptying and cleaning will be more difficult, but dirty water is better than no water.  We fill the barrels daily with water from the puddles.  It'll save a bit of work later, when things start to dry up.

It's still too mucky and wet to use the horse cart on the trails.  The roads aren't much better.  We stay within walking distance of home.  We've adapted to walking though, and can cover a good deal of ground.

Construction begins on the greenhouses.  Then the handle snaps off the post hole digger.  Dad picks a thin birch tree and begins carving a new handle.

We tap the birch trees for sap.   We collect it every day.  We keep a pot on the wood stove boiling constantly.  It takes a lot of sap to make syrop.  I pressure can one jar at a time and store it in the cold room.

Grass starts to turn green.  I let the birds out to free range.  We start picking fresh 'greens'- weeds.

I plant my greenhouses with brassicas, carrots, beets, onions, radishes, swiss chard and lettuce.  It's still too early for tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers to transplant.  I start more seedlings in the house.  Sil, Lisa, and Nira start working up their garden space.  They all move their chicken pens over, and start working the areas the chickens fertilized through the winter.  Mom and Dad dig up their garden and plant cabbage.

It snows on Mother's Day.  Thanks for the gift, Mother Nature.  I hope that's the last of it.

Days get warmer.   Grass gets greener.

May 15th.  Wildflowers start poking up.  Mom and Dad go flower picking.  Dad gets a pain in his belly.  He lays down.  He takes tylenol.  The pain gets worse.  There's nothing we can do for him, except to make him comfortable and hope it passes.  No doctors, no medicine.  Dad dies early the next morning.  He was 66.  We are lost without him.

Days pass.  We cry.  We dig a grave.  We cry.  We bury him.  We cry.  We wait to wake up from this horrible nightmare.  We cry.

I cry all the time.  I go to the garden to plant or pull weeds.  I cry.  I stack firewood in the basement.  I cry.  I go to bed.  I cry.  I try to keep it together around the boys, but when I'm alone, I cry.

I plant the rest of Mom's garden.  She doesn't care.  It was Dad's garden.

#2 finishes carving the birch pole and fixes the post hole digger.  The men finish the greenhouse frames and cover the roofs with plastic.  There's not much left of the roll, so everyone is on their own to cover the sides.  Brother and Sil cut poles to cover the bottom two feet, and fill the chinks with clay.  Lisa does the same, except she goes up the full north side.  Diego and Nira find some tin in one of the sheds at northern neighbour's house, and use it for walls all the way around.

We are out of hay.  The pasture is still short.  We reinforce the fences.  We add another fence line to keep the critters in one spot and let the grass grow on the other side.  We move the cows and horses over.  We add another fence line.  We keep adding fence until the pasture is divided into 12 sections.  We'll have to keep rotating the animals all summer.

Sanya lets her horses loose.  Her paddocks are too small to feed them.  We find them in our yard one morning.  We shoo them away.  Husband goes to talk to her.  She figures they can roam free for the summer, and eat what they like, and she'll worry about hay next winter.  Husband tells her they can't roam free on our land, and we will protect our property.

We build gates for the end of the trails.  They won't stop the horses from entering through the trees, but they will slow them down a bit, cutting off the easy access.

It finally gets warm enough to plant the tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers in the greenhouse.  We plant more brassicas, beats and mangels in the garden.  The beans, corn and potatoes go in.  I decide not to plant melons, since spring was so late.  I plant a few pumpkins and squash, but save most of my seed for next year.  We fill the rest of the garden with wheat, barley and oats.  It's less than half the seed, but we'll see what grows best in our short season, and save the seed to plant a full crop next spring.

We move the birds to the turkey pen.  We let them out to free range for a couple of hours every day, then pen them back up.  Two of the banties go broody, so I take them back to the new chicken coop and put them in the brooder boxes.  I let them set their own eggs for a few days, then sneak in at night and steal all of the eggs from one hen and replace them with eggs from the larger birds.  I add the stolen eggs to the other hen's nest.  This will keep the timing together so they should all hatch at the same time.

As the other banties go broody I move them to the new coop, into the brooder boxes, until all six have a broody banty nesting.  The rest of the banties are on their own to raise what they like outside.  Three go missing, nesting I hope.  One continues to hang around the other birds.  I add the days eggs from the other birds to the banty's nest when I move her.  Banties are great, but there's more meat on the larger birds.

The trails dry up enough that the men can get back to the lake in the horse cart.  They go fishing in groups of two or three, forage for puffballs and fiddleheads, and cut more wood.  They travel down different trails each time, looking for more lakes, different trees, raspberry patches.  We draw a map on the wall and make note of everything they find.


Nelly calves, but the calf is still born.  Husband, #1 and Diego go looking for a replacement calf.  At one of the neighbour's they find a farmer whose cow had twins.  One is not doing so well, so he lets them take it in exchange for 10 chicks when they hatch.  He doesn't have enough pasture to keep all of his cows either, so Diego makes a deal to let some of them graze at northern neighbour's, and keep one for beef in the fall.  The farmer will try to walk them over. 

Sanya's horses are running up the fence line at our house when they return, irritating our horses.  Husband goes out to shoo them off, but Diego stops him.  If they're running free, they're free for the taking, right?  They manage to catch three of them and Diego walks them home.

Nelly is very disagreeable with the calf, kicking it every time it tries to nurse.  We end up bottle feeding it with Mildred's milk.  After several days the calf, Murphy, figures out that Mildred is more agreeable, and starts nursing off of her.  We let Nelly back in the pasture with the other cows.  I am amazed that Mildred is able to feed all three of them. We keep Mildred and the calves in the side yard.

Our milk supply drops again, but that's okay.  We milk just enough for tea, breakfast, and a bit of butter, and let the calves take the rest.  Since we can't store the butter long, I just take the cream off the milk after a couple of hours in the cold room, put it in a small container and shake it up.  It's more of a chunky cream as we use it than real butter.

Mom is upset that her grass is getting so long, which makes the bugs worse at her place.  We aren't about to go wasting gas (if the lawn mower even works) and 'hay', so we offer to bring Mildred and the calves over to eat it.  Then Mom gets upset about the poop on the lawn.  Then Mildred walks through the garden, and Mom gets real upset.  We dig out the old solar electric fence charger, and are surprised to find that it still sort of works.  It's not a very strong shock, but it seems to do the trick for Mildred, so we fence in her yard.

We take the horses back to the creek pasture to 'mow' the lawn around Lisa's place.  Brother and Sil's place gets mowed when we're there with the horses.


Everyone is busy, foraging all the time, drying weeds for winter, planting, digging, weeding.  Everyone comes to visit and borrows the wheel barrow, helping to clean out the barn as they take home manure for their gardens.

Husband takes apart some old bicycles, wheel barrows, and a wagon, and builds a water cart, a manure cart, a tool cart and a horse hitch.  The hitch can be moved from one 'implement' to the next without unhitching the horse.  It seats one.  He takes the side cutter off the old tractor and loads it on the horse cart, along with some bits of scrap metal, and takes it up the road to the fellow who builds cutters.  The sound of the generator is deafening after silence for so long.

The fellow who builds cutters will get started on ours in a couple of weeks.  He needs more parts and gives Husband a list.  He wants beef in the fall for trade.  I worry about how we're going to keep producing beef of our own if we keep trading off all of our calves.

Spring is short lived and soon it's hot and dry.  Summer seems to have arrived.  We haul water from the creek several times a day.  We do laundry at Lisa's, hanging it on the clothesline at home.

The townsfolk are moving out into the fields and bush, staking claim to land outside of town, digging gardens, setting up camps where they will spend the summer.  Three families choose our road for their base, one is actually on Mom's land on the far side of the ravine.  They're a young couple with two young children.  They seem harmless enough for now, and self sufficient, so we let them be.

News from the south isn't great.  It seems in some areas whoever has the biggest guns gets to be the boss.  It's sad really, in a time like this when we all need to work together for the future.  People are still leaving the cities, moving into the country, squatting on any open space.  Unlike here, where the trees and forage are plentiful, there the concrete is plentiful, and absolutely useless in these trying times.  People are being killed all the time, just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  There is news that the working windmills in one area have been taken hostage by a group of thugs.  They figured they deserved the power for themselves.  No one knows what happened to the guy who was fixing them.

April

The rains come.  Snow melts.  Snow falls.  Rain.  Warm days.  Cold nights.  More rain.  More snow.  The roller coaster of spring has arrived in the north.

By mid April it's no longer safe to go ice fishing.  The men have little luck fishing from shore.  The sleigh bogs down as they travel through the bush.  The trails aren't clear enough to use the cart.  Everyone stays within walking distance of the house.

What little grass pokes through the snow is still dead and brown.  We manage to shoot an occasional bird, rabbit and fox.  They stave off starvation for the birds, just barely.  The birds are getting more milk than we are now, along with the kale that I planted midwinter in the sunroom.  I'm afraid I may have to start feeding them my seedlings soon.  They're almost ready to transplant now, with no where to transplant them to.

I busy myself in the greenhouses, working the soil, filling buckets with snow, patching the plastic.  It's still too cold overnight to plant inside, but towards the end of the month the weeds start growing, giving the chickens some fresh greens.

The men cut logs to build more greenhouses for each house.  The ground is still frozen, so no digging yet.  At least they'll be ready when they can dig.  Tree tops are brought up for firewood.  Our wood shed is full, so we begin refilling the basement.

 I can what meat is left in the entranceway freezer.  There are over 700 jars, enough for one meal a day for each house, until fall.  We decide not to butcher anything big until then.  With any luck Dorie and Nelly will calve soon, and we'll have meat for the future.  Mildred's calves are growing well, and Monsoon, the little bull, will probably be on the menu next winter.

The garage freezer is filled with pop bottles of water.  All the extra bottles have been filled and stored in the basement.  The carboys, canning jars, and 5 gallon pails in the cold room have all been filled with water.

There are only a few jars left of pickles and beats, and still a fair bit of jam.  Sometimes the boys take a jar and eat it straight.  What else can we do with it with no flour for bread or pancakes?

Dad and #2 carve a mold of a foot, and make new shoes for #2 from last year's cow hides.  They plan to carve more molds in everyone's sizes, but only #2 is without shoes for now.

We're down to the last four bales of hay.  We need grass soon.  The snow melts slowly.  We put up more fences in the clearings, more places to graze this summer.

We have visitors regularly now.  The townsfolk come out to see if the trails are cleared to the bush every 4 or 5 days.  They're looking for greens.  They cut pine branches for tea, but there's not much else to be found yet. 

A seed exchange is set for mid month.   We go with just a few assorted seed packets.  There are fewer people than last time.  We hear of many who didn't make it through the winter, or chose to head south.  Letters from the south tell of decimated populations, but an early spring, and growing season well under way.  Town governments have begun contacting one another, seeking answers to the questions that everyone is asking- when will the power be back on.  In some areas windmills have been fixed, and pockets of hydro do exist.

We're surprised to find some of the Mennonites there, and they have wheat, barley and oat seed with them to share.  Everyone gets enough seed to grow one acre.  I am thrilled at the prospect of bread in the fall.  They have a working mill, and will grind what wheat we grow, in trade for other goods in the fall. 

Everyone is hopeful for the future.  We've survived the winter.  In another month we should begin harvesting the first spring veggies, and fresh weeds and forage before that.  Hydro in the future.  Some hope for normal.

March

The snow keeps coming.  This will not be an early spring. 

The men continue ice fishing, feeding us, the birds and the dogs.  They bring home logs which we pile outside of the wood shed, slowly getting them cut up by hand saw.  The wood shed is nearly full.

Mildred calved.  She has a lovely little heifer calf, Maureen.  We get busy milking right away.  So much milk, and such poor storage.  I make butter and cheese and yogourt.   It's a great addition to our diet.  The excess milk and whey goes to the dogs and birds. 

Coffee is gone now.  Husband has adapted to drinking homemade tea with me in the mornings.  It's mostly dandelion root, pine needles, mint, rosehips, and yarrow.  It's hot, and we drink it without sugar or honey now.  The milk makes it much more palatable. 

We emptied the freezer in the garage.  I canned the remaining meat for summer.  We started filling pop bottles with filtered melted snow and filling the freezer with them.  When we ran out of pop bottles we made a trip to the dump to scavenge for more.

The dump looked to have been well scavenged already, but we were able to dig out a couple of bags of pop bottles from the recycling bins.  We found a few boards and an old pair of boots that might fit #2.  They have a rip in the side, but I can patch them with a piece of leather.

We stop to visit one of the neighbours on the dump side of town.  He's had a few calves born already, but lost one cow during delivery.  The calf is only a few days old, and not doing well.  He hasn't been able to get one of the other cows to adopt it, and milking enough to feed it isn't going well either.  He agrees to let us take Monsoon home to try on Mildred.

Mildred takes the new calf just fine.  She seems quite content with two calves.  Our milk supply drops a little for a few days, but then seems to pick up again.  It's still more than we can use before it spoils, so no loss.

We get the extra pop bottles washed out and continue filling them with filtered water.  I know it won't be enough to last the summer, but it might make things a little easier when we have to haul water again in the spring.

I start seedlings.  Lots of seedlings.  The plant stands in the sunroom are full of tomatoes, peppers, brassicas, herbs, and perennials.  Mom, Sil, Nira, and Lisa all have their shelves in front of the windows filled with seedlings too.  We are all looking forward to spring.

We got a letter from my sister.  It took 6 weeks to get to us.  She's with her family in Saskatchewan.  Luckily it's a small town, so they're doing as well as most of the folks in town here.  No word from government, military, or any sort of officials.  No power.  Waiting for spring.  She has learned to grind her own wheat.  Everyone there is grinding wheat.  The town plans to get an old mill up and running in the spring.  Meat has been scarce, but they're getting by.  We all write letters back to her, and hope she gets them.

February

It takes several more days of butchering and delivering beef before we are done 'paying' for our hay.  It's all been carted back to our place though, so we should be set until spring.

Delivering beef to folks in the area turned out to be extremely rewarding.  We now know all of the neighbours, who has what types of supplies, and things they'd be willing to trade.  Everyone is looking forward to spring and gardening, and fresh veggies.  There's talk of another seed exchange for those who missed the first one.

We met people with all sorts of poultry.  I manage to make several trades, and have increased my flock to 30 chickens, 7 turkeys, and 10 ducks.  10 of the chickens are banties, so I have hope they'll hatch eggs for me in the spring.

We got lucky and met some people with a small dairy.  They've been trading and butchering their herd.  We arrange to trade them one of our beef cows for one of their jerseys.  Driving Mindy to their house takes four people and a full day.  She's not halter broke and doesn't like being cut out of the herd.  We manage to get her there by blocking the crossroads and walking behind her with a whip.  The trip home with Mildred goes much smoother.  She is halter broke, and walks behind the sleigh quite agreeably.

The new birds bring new concerns.  The coop is not big enough for all of them, and it's not safe to let the banties 'free range' to nest.  We decide to turn the add a room into a new chicken coop.  We have enough lumber left to frame it in, and we take wire off the hay lean-to to separate pens.

The men take turns going ice fishing and cutting firewood every other day.  They've made a trail back to one of the lakes in the bush where the fishing is better, bringing home at least three a day.  The fish are essential for chicken feed.  I boil all of the skins, bones and guts in the doggy stew pot, along with a potato, any table scraps, and a few leaves of assorted dried weeds.  The pot feeds the dogs, cat, and birds.

The wood shed is filling slowly.  The fishermen cut down a few trees each day with the axe, bringing them home in lengths in the sleigh.  We're trying to conserve fuel, so they're using hand saws to cut the wood into pieces.  They alternate cutting firewood for each of our 'houses', building everyone's wood supply.

We continue to eat simple stews, and soups, and are lucky to have eggs each day for breakfast.

I keep busy through the long, cold days, patching clothing, blankets, and sewing new underwear.  Sil has become proficient at knitting socks.  We are on the lookout for old wool sweaters when we got to town.  Lisa and Nira also sew and knit.  Sometimes we stay home alone to work, sometimes we gather at one another's houses.  Mom joins to visit, and knits a bit.  We keep busy, and wait for spring.

Day 35- Winter?

We enjoyed a couple of beautiful spring like days again, though I was worried that the freezers wouldn't keep, before waking this morning to three inches of snow.  The temperature dropped overnight and the wind is howling.  I have both fires burning trying to take the chill off.  Three inches of snow doesn't provide much insulation against the wind, and with no blower on the furnace it takes a lot for the heat to spread.  We may need to move the boys beds downstairs and seal off the upstairs.  We've had a pretty mild fall so far, but winter may finally be here.  At least with the snow I won't have to wait all day for water.  I'm really behind on the dishes and laundry again.

Husband and the boys tested the new hay wagon/school bus out by going back in the woods for firewood.  The basement is full, and the woodshed just one row shy.  Samson managed the wagon on his own on the way out, but was really struggling with it loaded.  They hitched Knightmare up to team with him, and she did ok.  She tried to break away a few times, but the weight of the wagon prevented her.  They still wouldn't trust her on the small cart on her own, but she'll learn.

I made my last potato packet with lemon pepper last night.  The jar is empty.  I do have a fair bit of the spices I use all the time stored, but I think I had best start an indoor herb garden and experiment with what I can grow before I run out of everything.  I'm glad I dug out the thyme, marjoram, oregano, and lady's mantle from the perennial bed in September.  That'll give me a bit of a head start.  I think a large planter of kale might be a nice addition for winter too.

I'm starting to worry about yeast.  It looks like my flour supply is going to outlast my yeast supply, and the yeast I have is a bit aged, so I'm having to use a bit more of it to get the same effect.  I was sure I had another vacuum sealed package, but I've triple checked the cupboards and can't find it.  I started some sourdough experiments, but I've never had good luck with them before.  I hope I'm not just wasting flour and potatoes.  I've opened another bag of flour now, leaving 5 bags in the basement.  That's about 1 bag a month, so we should be ok until spring. 

Honey is getting low again.  Husband wants to wait for a bit more snow so he can take the sleigh to the Hutterite village, or a melt to take the horse cart.  The cart would be ok right here, right now, but we'd run the risk of hitting deeper snow or none at all within a few miles.  And you never know when a winter storm is going to dump a foot or two on top of you.  For now we'll stay put, and go without, since it's just not worth the risk of getting stranded.

Dad and Brother  spent the nice days fishing and hunting, doing well with both.  They got a dozen fish in one afternoon, several partridge, and a moose calf.  The smoker is down at Brother's camp so Sil can keep an eye on it.  They're making jerky.  Sil has the moose fat rendering on their woodstove, though there wasn't a lot of it.  Sil and the girls have collected a lot of cattails and weeds, boosting their winter stores as well. 

Niece1 has taken to driving the horse cart pretty well.  Niece2 seems to think they're going to crash.  I'm not sure if she's afraid of horses or her sister's driving.

Diego and Nira have asked for more potatoes.  I really don't want to part with them, even though I said we'd share when we brought them home.  They just seem to have gone through the first bag awfully fast.  They didn't even offer to trade any of the jars of pickles that they don't like.  I guess they've decided to eat them after all.  I know Diego helped dig them, but it was our meat that we traded for them, and more of our people that did the digging.  We'll stop and see the potato man again, but I don't think the odds are in our favour.

I spend the afternoon making more tallow candles.  I don't know if they'll make a good trade for honey, since the apiary would have beeswax, but maybe that won't matter at the village.  The demand for candles must be pretty high by now.  Although we find we're burning fewer candles by just going to bed earlier.  It means we're up before the sun, but everyone gathers in the kitchen in the mornings, so one candle is plenty.

I'll need to gather more jars to make more candles.  #2 is having a shoe problem.  He has the biggest feet, size ten, and no spares.  He'll be ok for winter, with his boots, and his rubber boots and steal toes are ok, but we'll have to keep our eyes open for shoes for him for next spring.  I could make slippers from the cow hides, but I don't think they'd hold up real well without soles.  Maybe we'll get lucky.  Thankfully everyone else has at least two pairs of spares, so they'll be ok for awhile.

Roast beef for dinner, soup for lunch, and pancakes for breakfast.  We're still doing well with food.

Day 30- A Month Without Power

The weather has been beautifully mild for this time of year.  It's rather unexpected.  We've been spending a fair amount of time each day gathering firewood.  While it may look like a mild winter ahead right now, it could turn into a late spring, and we don't want to be caught unprepared.

I finally finished with the bear lard, for a total of 13 quarts, not counting the ones I gave to Sil and Nira.  The dogs and birds ate cracklings for several days, mixed in with their feed.  I've started feeding the birds a scoop of doggy stew along with their grains and weeds.  I don't know how much longer the grains will last, but I do know I can't buy any more right now.

The banana bread is gone, so we're back to pancakes for breakfast for now.  We could have had eggs one day, the new chickens are really pulling their weight, but I decided to bake instead.  Cookies are a pain on the woodstove, with only room for one tray at a time in the oven.  I made a double batch of dough and was cursing them by the time I finished.  I hope the boys appreciate the effort.  I baked a cake and two pumpkin pies.  The pies were surprisingly the easiest, requiring the least amount of flour and dirty dishes.  I guess the boys will be spoiled this winter.

Husband and the Bigs are still working the horses for a couple of hours every morning.  Knightmare is an old hat at the stone boat now.  Husband doesn't trust her enough to try the cart yet though.  They're going to try to fix up the sleigh today.  I bought it at the auction a couple of years ago.  The wood was rotten, but the frame was solid.  The plan is to reinforce the sides and make a bench with thin trees, and use some 1X3s for the floor.  The lumber pile isn't in too bad of shape yet, but the more we conserve the longer it will last.

They built a lean-to on the cabin by the creek for the horses to get out of the weather.  We moved them back there semi-permanently, in part because we don't want anyone trying to steal them, but mostly because there just isn't enough grass in the pasture.  We can't waste hay.

Everyone is over their colds, and we did ok with cloth hankies.  Washing them isn't even all that bad.  I put them in a bucket, rather than the bathtub, and pounded them with the plunger.  We sure went through a pile of them though.  I took an old sheet and cut it into hanky size squares, and still had to wash them everyday.

We've been picking more weeds, digging more cattails, I even found another patch of rosehips that were in ok shape.


We're on our last roll of toilet paper.  I had really hoped it wouldn't come to this.  I've given everyone their own cloth to wipe with, and their own hook in the outhouse.  They're all responsible for cleaning it themselves. 

There hasn't been any rain, so Husband and the boys got water from Sanya and Roam again.  No baths, for the time being.  Everyone is getting kind of stinky too.  Oh well.  Snow will come eventually.

Lunches have been mostly soups and stews, with bread.  Suppers are mostly beef.   I'm trying to make room in the freezer for Mindy.  On the one hand, she may be bred and it would make sense to keep her.  On the other hand, we just don't have the hay to last the winter. 

We play board games almost every night, and read.  #4's reading has really improved.  The Littles do their school work in the mornings without even being told now.  Without the distraction of the tv and computers, they're much more agreeable. 

We keep busy, and try not to think too much about what might happen in the coming months.

Day 22- Kitchen Organization

Either I'm up really early, or everyone else is really sleeping in this morning.  It's still dark out, but that doesn't mean much at this time of year.  The wall clock is stuck at 3:45.  When the battery starts to die it can't seem to push the hands up and over the twelve.  I have more batteries, but I don't know what time it is.  I'm sure I've been up for over an hour already though.

I drink my tea and read a bit.  I can't seem to get into this book though.  Nothing else in my pile has grabbed my interest either.  I suppose I could make another trip to the library today, but I don't really think that would help.  I'm pretty sure it's me, not the books.

I give up on the book and go in the living room.  I start clearing off my desk.  Might as well sort through that pile of unopened mail, file and put away the bills, and whatever else has taken up residence there.  I sort, file, toss, tidy and declutter for awhile before Husband gets up.  My desk is clean for the second time in five years.  Tidying it up usually makes me forget where I put things.  Husband gets his coffee and watches me for a bit.  I shove my computer, printer, keyboard and monitor as far as I can to the back of the desk.

"What are you going to do with the desk?", he asks. 

"I don't know.  It gave me something to do this morning though."  I start sorting through stacks of old disks.  There's a bunch the boys haven't used in years.  I've been meaning to put some of them on the fence posts around the turkey and chicken pens.  They supposedly ward off some sort of predators.  I suppose I could still use them for that.  I stack the rest of the disks neatly on the shelf.  Usually when I tidy disks they're scattered all over the place again within a couple of days.  This time they might stay tidy for awhile.

The boys get up.  I decide to make bannock for breakfast.  I found the recipe scribbled on a piece of paper while I was cleaning.  I had meant to try it awhile ago.  I need lard to fry it in.  I put the pot of bear fat back on the stove.  In the excitement of the rain and butchering the turkeys I haven't finished rendering it.  Once warmed up I should be able to strain off enough for breakfast though.  The rest of the fat will take a day or two of constant cooking to render all of the lard.

I mix up the bannock ingredients and let them rest.  I get the turkey off the freezer from yesterday.  I put it on one of the side grills just slightly overlapping the stove.  A pot of potatoes and a vegetable would be nice for supper, too.  #1 gets potatoes from the basement and helps me peel.  #2 goes out to the garage freezer and comes back with a bag of beans.  He puts them in a pot on the counter.  Then he drains the liquid fat from the pot into a metal bowl.  It's more than enough for the bannock, so after pouring some into a cast iron pan, the rest is left to harden on the counter.

Once hot, I fry the bannock up, and we top it with jam.  It's not too much of a change from pancakes, but any bit of a change seems good at this point.

After breakfast Husband and the Bigs go out to work the horses.  Today they want to hook Samson to the cart and see how he does.  Knightmare is finally getting the hang of the reins.  Shiloh is lead broke, so #2 gets a feed bag with some sand to start adding weight to her back.  Just a couple of pounds, so she can get used to it.  Husband and #1 give Samson a quick work out with the reins and the stone boat, then hitch him to the cart.  He's bigger than Tori and the cart actually fits him better than her.  He takes to it eagerly- a little too eagerly.  Wheels move much faster than skis.  Overall he does well, but he'll need to work on taking it easy. 

They drive him up to Sanya and Roam's place.  We haven't checked on them in a while anyway, and Husband wants to know if he was broke to pull before.  Sanya greets them as they pull in.  She's in the ring working with one of her horses.  Roam comes out to chat.  They traded all but 10 of their horses to the Hutterites for hay.  They kept their expensive stud, two brood mares, four well broke horses, and three yearlings.  Sanya plans to trade the yearlings as well, but knows they'll be worth more after training. 

They're doing fairly well.  They have an artesian well, so getting fresh, clean water is easy for them.  They offer to let us fill our barrels there, rather than having to filter water from the creek.  Their food supplies are holding out ok.  They don't have enough to last through the winter, but they're planning to visit the Hutterites once one of the yearlings is ready to trade.

Sanya had been working with Samson, but had just started him on the stone boat, so she's surprised to see that he's already pulling the cart.  She's impressed with how well he's doing.

While Husband and the Bigs are busy, the Littles and I walk to Mom and Dad's.  I bring the clock with me so I can reset it.  They're surprisingly not squabbling so much now.  I think they're out of denial, and have accepted that this is how things are going to be.  They've cleared out a lot of electric appliances, making room for their non-electric counterparts.  Between their camping equipment and things they've just always kept, they seem to be doing ok.  I give them a couple loaves of bread and tell them to come over when they run out instead of waiting for us to bring them some.

Dad has built an outdoor shower off the end of the deck.  Basically a camping shower bag in a little shelter.  They have to heat the water for it on the stove still, but it works.  Their food supplies are holding out ok, but I notice they've got a list started on the counter.  Eggs, sugar, peanut butter.  I need more chickens.  Four hens are not enough to supply every one with eggs.

We walk back home, where Husband and the Bigs are waiting for lunch- which of course I haven't planned.  We've ate sandwiches for lunch almost every day for years, with an occasional pot of soup, or bowl of potato salad for a change.  Feeding people three meals a day without any convenience foods is simply exhausting.

I decide to open a couple of jars of soup and heat them.  The freezer food should be used first, in case of a thaw, but I just can't keep up.  At least supper's planned for tonight.

Husband asks what I want to do for the afternoon.  We still need firewood.  There are dishes stacked all over the kitchen- again.  The Littles haven't had any lessons in weeks.  I want to curl up and have a nap.

Husband takes the boys out to cut and pile firewood.  He leaves me in the kitchen to deal with the food and the mess.

I start a pot of water to boil for dishes.  I slide the turkey over a little further onto the stove.  I  drain more fat out of the pot into the bowl.  It hasn't started to harden yet, so I set it outside on the freezer.  I grab a couple more stock pots from the shelf above while I'm out there.  I clear all the dishes off the counter, and put the pots in their place. 

I start an assembly line for the stove.  Potatoes and beans are already waiting to cook for supper.  Doggy Stew pot to cook overnight, as it's become the routine to put it on before bed.  I clean the cast iron pan for breakfast, set a bowl inside of it, a spatula, wash the hand mixer, and put it in as well. 

Lunch tomorrow.  I place an empty stock pot next to the pan.  Soup.  I go downstairs to get more potatoes, and notice one of my squash has a soft spot.  It'll need to be cooked.  I'm not ready to start baking pies, so it will be cut and chopped into soups and stews.  Maybe I'll freeze some. 

Back upstairs, I cut it up and put about a third into the stock pot for lunch tomorrow.  A couple of chunks in the doggy stew pot.  The rest goes into the small roasting pan to cook for later.  Between the squash and the beans, that's two winter veggies that won't be saved for winter.  I've been slipping on picking weeds too. 

I take the dried weeds off the plant stands and stuff them into jars.  Then I go out to pick more.  I add some to the doggy stew pot and the soup pot for tomorrow.  Supper tomorrow will be turkey rice casserole.  I get out another roasting pan, chop up a couple handfuls of weeds and toss them in.  Ok, everything is planned for tomorrow.  Except bread.  There won't be any room to put the oven on the stove to bake tomorrow.  I start two batches of bread.  They can bake after supper.  Problem solved.

The dish water is boiling, so I clean out the sink and pour it in.  After a marathon dishwashing session, things are starting to look better in the kitchen.  I roll out the bread.  This isn't so bad.  I just need to get organized like this every day.  Ha.

I grab some paper and an old calendar and start planning meals.  Supper's are easy.  I divide the beef yield by 250 days- about 8 months.  49 roasts, 1 every 5 days.  12 stews- 1 every 20 days.  11 meals of steaks- 1 every 22 days.  I work my way through the list.  I add in the turkeys, balogna rolls, partridge, etc.  I soon have nearly every supper planned until June. 

Now for lunches.  Lunches are harder.  Soup of course, it's easy and filling, but we tire of it so quickly.  Turkey salad sandwiches for a few days after cooking turkey.  Leftovers of any type, really.  It's hard to plan for leftovers with most things though.  Macaroni salad for a while, until we run out of pasta and cheese.  Chili.  Sloppy Joes.  It might not be too bad.  I only write in a couple of months worth of lunches.  If I start a 'new' pot of soup every 4 days, and add more water, leftovers, weeds, and veggies to it, there should always be something ready for lunch. 

I decide to cook and can some beans.  They'll be easier and quicker to work with that way.  I get out another stock pot and start dumping beans into it.  It's a combination of white northern beans, black turtle beans, and kidney beans.  I fill the pot with water to soak overnight. 

It's about time to get supper ready, so I slide the turkey further onto the stove, and put the potatoes and beans on to cook.  I give the floors a quick sweep.  Things are looking much better, and I feel much less stressed. 

I check on the rendered fat, and it's hard.  I lift it out of the bowl and dust the crumbs off of it.  I break it up and put it in an old coffee pot on the stove to melt.  I wash the bowl out, then drain the fat from the pot into it and put it back on the freezer to cool.  I go to the basement for old pasta jars to put the rendered fat into.

Husband and the boys come in.  They help with the turkey, mash the potatoes, and make gravy.  I pour the fat into jars and set them on the counter to cool.  I put the oven on top of the stove and pop in the first batch of bread.

We eat supper, then switch the bread.  I divide the leftover turkey and chop it up for tomorrow's turkey rice casserole and a bowl of turkey salad.  I put them in the entrance way on the freezer.  They'll be cool enough there.  The boys go in the living room to play monopoly.  I put the doggy stew on to cook overnight, and then decide to put the beans on as well.  They'll just simmer, but it should work.  Once the kitchen is tidied back up I head to bed with a book.

Day 21- Turkeys

My foot is tender this morning, still red and blotchy, but no longer throbbing.  I get up, make coffee and tea, stir the cattail starch.  It's dry now, and somewhat fluffy.  I decide to put it in it's own jars rather than mixing it into the flour bin.  I get 5 quarts.  Not exactly a great yield.

It's been three weeks without power.  There's been no news of if or when the power will be restored.  Of course, where we live, we'll probably have power before we'll have news.  Who knows if the radios will even work when the power comes back on.  Or anything else for that matter.

I sit and drink my tea, looking around the kitchen at all of the now useless appliances and gadgets.  Packing up the microwave and some of the small appliances would give me more counter space, more room to work.  I'd have space to let the bread rise, set up the doggy stew pot, and things to cook without cluttering up the table.

Husband and the boys get up.  They drink coffee.  Nobody's really saying anything, but there's a grumpy vibe in the room.  I ask what they want to do today.  They aren't very committed to any plans.  I suggest we butcher turkeys, before we lose any more.  They don't look impressed with that idea, but they know it needs to be done.  It won't take long, with only 7 birds left.

I ask the Littles to get me some boxes from the basement and I start clearing things off the counter;  the electric bread knife, electric can opener, crockpot, deep fryer, doggy stew burner.  I get the Bigs to take the boxes and the microwave to the basement.  It can all sit down there for now.  The kitchen seems much roomier.

The boys eat their breakfast.  The Littles start fighting with each other.  Poor #3 is suffering major computer withdrawals.  He's been a pretty good sport so far, but three weeks is a long time.  Of course it doesn't help to be walking past the computers every time we walk through the living room.  If we cleared the laptops off the desk it would give the boys more room to set up and play board games.  I look around the living room and decide to clear off the top of one of the book shelves.  The lap tops can sit up there for now.  The desk tops can stay on the desk against the wall.  Not that they're any less depressing, I'm just not feeling that ambitious.

With the counters cleared off, the desks cleared off, breakfast eaten, and dishes washed, we decide to get started on the turkeys.  We build a big fire in the fire pit outside, then put a large wash tub over it to heat.  It takes a lot of water to fill the wash tub.  Too bad I didn't think of getting it out and filling it with water the other day when it was raining.  Husband gets the machete, the boys start catching the turkeys, and then it's off with their heads.  Everyone gets a turkey to pluck, with one to spare.  By the time they're all cleaned and gutted, it's well past lunch.

We put one bird in a roasting pan on the stove.  It won't be ready for supper tonight, but the fire's not too hot now, so it shouldn't burn.  I'll let it cook for the afternoon, then set it outside overnight and put it back on tomorrow.  The rest of the turkeys are tucked into the freezers, hopefully to freeze.  Everything else seems to be frozen solid, so we must be dropping below freezing at night.

I pull out a package of sausage for supper tonight.  It's the last one.  I should have done a better job planning meals, spreading out the few things there's some variety of.  The quick and easy meals are pretty much gone.  I have to remember to start things earlier in the day.

Husband and the Bigs go out to work the horses again, and get another load of logs with Samson.  That keeps them busy until supper is ready.  The Littles play Battleship on the desks for the rest of the afternoon.  They're getting along better now.

After supper we play cards for a couple of hours before calling it a day.

Day 20- Burns, Books, and Wildlife

Oh my god.  I can't fricken believe it.  Yesterday I moved pot after pot of boiling hot water- filtering, cleaning, filling the bathtub- no problem.  This morning I make a coffee and tea like usual, and then dump the tea pot all over my foot!

I ran to the bathroom and jumped in the tub.  Thankfully I filled the tub back up yesterday, so there was cool water in it, but honestly when it happened I was running for the tap.  Autopilot.  The only ice we have is in the pop bottles I set outside to switch in the cooler every day.  It's pretty much impossible to wrap that around my foot.  Husband takes several wet cloths outside to cool while I hold the pop bottle on it.  It's red and blotchy, but luckily not blistered- at least not yet.  The boys clean up the spill and make me a new pot of tea.  What a crappy way to start the day.

The boys make breakfast- back to the pancake routine.  Eggs need to be saved for baking.

The boys go out to do chores and find a dead turkey.  Two more are missing.  There are large paw prints in the garden.  Large fox or small wolf- hard to say which.  Either way, we are down three more birds.  They check the chickens, which are fine.

It's cool but sunny, so Husband and the Bigs decide to do firewood again after they work the horses.  Knightmare is finally starting to understand the reins.  They give Samson a quick work out with the reins, and then hitch him to the stone boat.  He does really well pulling it.  Husband is certain he's been trained to pull before now.  They decide to go to the back for firewood and use Samson to pull logs.  The Littles tag along.  There won't be much for them to do, other than moving small branches out of the way, until the logs are back at the house, cut, and ready to stack.

I'm left at home with my aching foot.  I switch the cloths on it, but I'm bored out of my mind just sitting here.  I decide to package up my seed.  Some of the sunflower seeds that spilled did sprout, but there's no mold.  I pick out the sprouted ones and toss them in the bird bucket.  I pack the rest in old jars.  It's not a great selection- sunflowers, tomatoes, peppers, parsnip, beans, asparagus, crab apples.  With what I have left from this year, next year's garden should be ok.  Still, I'll have to be much more diligent about saving seed in the future.

Husband has Samson pull up six logs in two trips.  #1 walks him up on the third trip.  He's done extremely well.  They break for lunch and put him back in the pasture.  They make a pot of chicken noodle soup for lunch- nothing fancy, just the package and powder type.  They use the last of the crackers.  I have a couple of recipes for crackers, but we didn't really care for them.  While they might go over better now, with that secret ingredient added in (hunger), I don't think I want to 'waste' the flour to try it.

After lunch Husband puts the oven on the stove top for me.  I'm hobbling better now, but can only handle a couple of minutes without a cold cloth on my foot.  Still, the cattail starch is not drying very well, so I want to put it on cookie sheets in the oven.

Nira and Diego come after lunch.  They had a crazy mad dash for water yesterday as well- baths, laundry and drinking water.  They take my library books, our empty jerry cans, and siphoning hoses and head to town.

Husband and the Bigs cut up the logs and the Littles stack them in the wood shed.  Then they cut more wood from the lot across the road.  I read a book.

Nira and Diego return just before supper.  Things in town seem better than our last visit.  They traded a few jars of pickles for a pumpkin, two turnips, and a cabbage.  The store would have taken more, but there wasn't much selection, so they decided to keep what they had.  They had to go a ways out of town to find cars that still had gas, but they managed to refill all of the jerry cans.  The library has grown, but the selection isn't great.  Nira has picked a bunch of harlequins for me.  Better than nothing, I suppose.  They head back to their place.

Husband takes the oven off the stove.  #4 makes hot dogs for supper.  The temperature is dropping outside, and the cloths are nearly frozen when I switch them for my foot.  It doesn't look like it's going to blister, but still hurts.  The Bigs do chores and double check that the turkey shack is secure.  We're going to leave the dogs outside loose overnight.

The Bigs bring in the heavy blankets that were hung on the clothesline in the rain yesterday.  They're not quite dry yet, so we hang them over door frames and chairs for tonight.

We spend the evening playing clue, and then head off to bed.  My foot aggravates me repeatedly throughout the night, waking me up. 

Day 17- Firewood & Friends

Frosty, with a touch of snow this morning.  I open the freezer when I let the dogs out, and everything is feeling much more solid.  I think it's going to be ok after all.  I run out to check the smoker.  It's stone cold, and the meat is partially frozen when I open it up.  I guess that's done well enough then.  I take the roasts in the house and drop them on the table.  After starting coffee and tea, I bag them and tuck them into the freezer.  It's still pretty chilly, so I go downstairs to light a fire in the furnace.

When I come back upstairs everyone is up.  #4 has a goofy grin on his face.  "What's up?", I ask.

"I went and checked the chickens.  We have enough eggs for breakfast!", he says.

"Well then you'd better find a package of bacon in the freezer", I laugh.  He rushes out to look.  It feels like a normal morning, despite cooking on the woodstove and living by oil lamp light.

After breakfast I look at #4, "So you want to get firewood today, do you?"  Bacon and eggs for breakfast has always meant it was a firewood day around here.  He laughs and says he doesn't care.  The other boys all groan, which makes me laugh too.  It feels like a good day.

I pull a package of stew meat out of the freezer, along with a package of doggy stew meat, and start both pots on the stove.  I go out and pick fresh dandelions, chives, and plantain for both.  The dogs get two cups of rice added to theirs, and I add potatoes and carrots to ours.  A bit of flour goes in each to thicken the gravy.

Husband and the Bigs go out and get the horse cart ready.  When they go out to get Tori they find her limping.  She has an old injury that flares up from time to time, probably arthritis.  So that plan is out.  I mix her up some grain and aspirin.  The Bigs figure we should try to break Knightmare and Samson to pull the cart.  Shiloh is still too young, but #2 catches her and gives her a good work out.  After a couple of hours of lead training they figure the horses have had enough.  Samson is a quick learner, or he's been lead trained before.  Knightmare is going to require a lot of work.

Since I have the morning 'off', I melt and strain the tallow several times, then make a few wicks from cotton string, tying one end through old nuts, and dip them in tallow.  I reuse empty candle jars, along with some juice glasses I bought to make candles with.  Really, any jar or glass that can handle the heat will work, I just find the thinner ones require less to fill while providing the same amount of light.  The candles use much less tallow than I was expecting, so I fill three additional quart jars with tallow to use later.  I'm pretty sure we should have enough tallow for candles for most of the winter.

We decide to cut wood from the lot across the road again so it's closer to haul into the yard.  #4 gets his wagon and the Bigs get the wheelbarrows to carry it in.  There's a lot of deadfall in these woods already, so it doesn't take long to get several cords cut and stacked.  The wood shed is about half full now.  A few more days like this and we should be set for winter.  We decide to knock off early and go visiting.  I pack three nice roasts to give away into the saddle bags.  The Bigs will ride over on Knightmare and Samson while the rest of us walk.  It's funny how that used to seem to far to walk, and now it's just about right.  I don't pick very many weeds, as the snow hides most of them and freezes my fingers.

Knightmare and Samson are happy to graze on the long grass in the trail as we visit.  Brother, Sil and the girls have built bunk beds out of logs and put the mattresses from the trailer on them.  They've hung a blanket like a curtain from the ceiling so the girls have their own 'room'.  The girls seem much happier now.  Sil has decided to use the little bedroom/bunk at the back of the trailer as her pantry.  They cut some of the old floor boards for shelving and she has all of her canned goods lined up neatly.  They're working on building a closet, so after a short visit we leave them with a roast and head to Mom and Dad's.

The horses are happy to munch on the grass there as well.  We should really spend a couple of days fencing the far side of their property- it was always on the to do list anyway, but next summer we'll really need the grass.

Mom and Dad are taking it easy today.  They had their winter wood cut and stacked months ago, and without hydro they seem to be spending a lot of time just waiting. Dad's gone hunting a lot, and Mom's done a few crafts, but they're starting to get on each other's nerves.  They've decided to go fishing out back tomorrow.  Dad's had the generator running a lot, and they're low on fuel.  We decide to go for a drive once Tori's leg is healed, and see how much fuel we can siphon from nearby cars.  Otherwise their supplies are holding up quite well.  They're out of bread of course, and Mom offers me a bag of flour to bake her some with.  I don't take it, but I will have to make more of an effort to supply everyone with bread.  We visit quite a while and decide to head back home instead of going to see Diego and Nira tonight.  I know they got the bear, so they don't really need the roast tonight.

I put the third roast back in the freezer.  We eat our stew for supper, the boys do chores, and then enjoy an evening of cards before bed.

Day 13- Good News

It's a beautiful sunny day today.  It'll be perfect to do some laundry.  I'm sure everyone must be needing more socks and underwear by now.  I think I'll take the laundry to the creek rather than bringing water up to the house though.  I make coffee, tea, and relax with a book while I wait for everyone else to get up.

Once they're all up and about, I tell them my laundry plans.  If we take more baler twine down there, and move the tub closer to the creek it should make laundry much easier.  The boys gather up all of their dirty laundry.  It's a mountain.  As long as the cabin's empty at the back though, anything I don't get done today can be kept in there.  I load up Husband's & my own laundry.  I almost forget the plunger.  They gather up baler twine and grab a chainsaw.  They'll cut firewood while I do laundry.

Brother and Sil stop by.  They're headed into town to try phoning the girls again.  This time they're happy to hear that the girls and Friend made it to the cottage.  Friend is recovering from his bullet hole nicely, since his mother's a nurse and has managed to stitch him up.  They stop back at our place and tell us the news.  Brother, Husband and Dad will leave tonight to go and get them.

We have a quick breakfast of toast and jam, and then head for the creek.  Once the tub is moved it's a breeze to fill and plunge the clothes.  Getting them to the line is a bit more work, but thankfully the Bigs do the carrying for me.  They set up three more lines so I have lots of room to dry everything.  I will need to bring more ashes next time.  Towards the end I don't think there's much lye coming through in the water.  Still, everything is cleaner than it was before.  I think another water filter attached to the tub would be helpful too.  The creek can get pretty mucky at times.

Husband and the boys have filled the cart with firewood.  Tori is grazing happily.  The grass is fairly long here.  We had always meant to fence it, but hadn't got around to it.  We decide we might as well, to give the horses more room to graze.

Husband and the Littles take the firewood back to the house to unload while the Bigs cut smaller trees and straighten the treeline.  They come back with hammers and nails.  We use the small trees as poles and nail them in place.  The area is still open at the creek but I don't think the horses will try to cross it.  The entrance is open as well.  It'll need a gate.

We reload the cart and Husband let's #1 drive it back to the house.  #2 digs some post holes for the gate.  When Husband and #1 return the three of them drop fence posts in the holes and build a gate.  It looks pretty good to me.  The Littles and I reload the cart and then we all go back to the house.

After unhitching Tori the Bigs walk down with all of the horses and leave them in the new pasture.  They pick weeds as they walk back to the house.

We have soup for lunch, beef again, and then Husband goes for a nap.  It'll be a long night.  The boys and I start on butchering the cow.  The weather has me concerned.  It's been warming up, and we might get an Indian Summer after all.  That's great for working in, but not good for the hanging meat or the freezers.

#2 saws through the back half of the spine, and we get started on cutting the steaks.  #1 starts the generator to run them through the meat saw, rather than sawing by hand.   We cut all the meat off the ribs and run it through the grinder.  I don't usually make ground beef, figuring I can buy ground pretty cheap, and I prefer a good supply of stewing beef, but this year we won't be buying, so we need our own supply.  Grinding is much faster than trimming all of the fat off for stew anyway.

I cut 8 pounds of beef off the flanks for jerky and  mix up two different recipes.  The Bigs set up the smoker, which we've never used before.  I'll start some in the oven overnight as well.  We'll see which method works best.

Husband gets up and cooks us up some delicious rib steaks for supper, and I swear, this is the best beef I have ever tasted!  I have the urge to go out and give Dorie a big hug.  She does mighty fine work!  At the end of the day I lay the steaks and hamburg out across the top of the freezer, over other still frozen food.  I hope it'll freeze.  It's at least cold enough that I'll have a few days to decide if I need to can it.

Brother arrives and he and Husband walk over to Mom and Dad's to get the truck ready.  Mom has packed them some soup and sandwiches for the trip.  I send along some apples and cookies.  It's barely dark, but they expect the first part of the trip to be uneventful.

I am completely exhausted from a hard day's work.  I hope I'll be able to sleep rather than staying up worrying all night.

Day 11- Construction

I am a big sleepy head this morning.  I wake to the sound of what seems like a million people in the kitchen.  I don't want to go out there.  Smitty stretches beside me.  He's going to need out right away.  Puppy bladder.  I grab my housecoat and jump out of bed.  When I open the door he's right beside me, growling.  I look at the mob.  Everyone is eating pancakes.  I squeeze through a bunch of kids, wave at everyone, and make my way to the door.  I go straight outside with Smitty.

Husband comes outside after a few minutes.  "Are you okay?  Everyone thinks you're mad at them now."

"You know I don't talk when I first wake up.  There's too many people in there."  It's a nice day, surprisingly warm.


Sil hears me as she comes outside.  She laughs.  I think she's the only other person here who understands my need to be alone in my own head in the morning.  She hands me a cup of tea.

"Thanks", I say.

"No problem.  No honey though.  I didn't want to open it in front of all of them."

"Thanks."

I drink half my cup of tea before the kids start coming outside to play.  Once they're all outside I figure I can deal with the rest of the people in the house.  We go in and sit down.  Nira tries to hand me pancakes, but Husband takes them.  Food when I first wake up makes me want to puke.

Brother and Sil are anxious to get started on the truck.  I know they're anxious to head for Huntsville.  We're all hoping the girls have an uneventful trip.

The Bigs are going to go to the back with Diego and Nira to work on their cabin.  I tell them to get the bathtub out of the pasture and take it down with them, the one that the plug came out of and won't hold water now.  We have three old tubs that we use for water troughs.

Nira is excited.  "A bath!  Oh, I can't wait to have a bath!  I didn't think we'd be able to do that!"  I was thinking of laundry, but ok, I guess bathing's a good idea too.  She can do whatever she wants with it really.

The Bigs take my quad and trailer to load the tub.  They toss in a couple of buckets, some pop bottles, baler twine, chainsaw, and come back to the house.  They load the roll of plastic and a staple gun.  Nira and I go out to the trailer and pull out an old pot, a frying pan, some glasses, silverware, knives and a spatula.  We add it to the trailer.  I tell her to pack up their clothes and put them in too.

"We can't move down there yet!  There are no walls!", she looks like she's going to cry.

"You can do laundry down there though.  In the bathtub."  I don't have an extra plunger, so she'll have to find another way to agitate it.  I go back in the house and look at the box of laundry detergent.  There's not much left.  I decide to give her a bucket of ashes instead.  She might as well start out with lye water.  I take an ice cream bucket and poke holes in the bottom with a knife.  I fill it with ashes in the basement, then put it inside another ice cream bucket.  I take it out and add it to the load.  The trailer is full.  They're all ready to go.

Down at the camp the Bigs and Diego get to work cutting trees for the walls while Nira and the kids unload the trailer.  They can't lift the tub, so the Bigs do that for them.

Mom and Dad come over.  Dad, Husband and Brother start working on the truck.  Dad has to hot wire it, and fiddle with a few things, but he gets it running pretty quick.  They take it to Dad's to load the fuel tank.

Mom, Sil and I walk down to Diego and Nira's camp, picking weeds along the way.  They have a good pile of logs cut already.  I open the roll of plastic and spread it out.  It's 20' X 100', so it'll cover one side and the roof in one strip.  We all work together to get it up and over the top.  #1 staples it into place while Diego and #2 keep cutting trees.

We women walk down to the creek and scoop water.  The buckets are heavy and I wish the boys had dropped the bathtub closer.  I shove a plastic bag in the drain with a rock and hope that the tub will hold the water.  I take the ashes and pour water over them.  We pour the rest of the water in the tub and go back for more.  The water is holding when we get back, and the water has dripped through the ashes into the second bucket.  I explain to Nira that this is lye water.  It's what soap used to be made with.  It's stronger if it sits longer, but it should work for now.  I pour it in the tub, then pour more water over the ashes.

"Throw your laundry in and slosh it around."  Nira doesn't look impressed.  "Or you can keep wearing them until they stink bad enough to run around naked."  I take the baler twine and walk away.

I find a couple of trees that look like a good spot to hang laundry and tie the baler twine in place.  I tell #1 I need a laundry pole.  He finds me a small tree with a fork in it, cuts it down and trims the branches off.  It's about 8' high.  Perfect.  I stick it under the baler twine and use it to lift it up higher in the middle.

#2 shows Diego how to notch the logs to fit together.  They start on the back side of the cabin, with no windows.  I watch them put the first three logs in place.  Then I tell Diego to take the clay they've been digging up and smoosh it in between the logs.  That's actually a good job for the kids, and it'll give Nira more laundry to practice on.

#1, Sil and I cover the ends and remaining side of the cabin with plastic, then cut out the door and windows.

Mom, Sil and I walk back to the house to make lunch.  It's leftover beef soup today, with extra weeds and a few more potatoes.  Sil takes the dried weeds off the plant stands and stuffs them into old jars.  Then she spreads the fresh weeds out to dry.  Mom washes a bunch of dishes for me.  We leave the soup on the stove to simmer and walk over to Mom and Dad's.

The men have the fuel tank in the box of the truck and bolted into place.  They're debating whether to put the box on or not.  The box will hide it, and keep whoever's riding in the back warmer and dry, but it'll also block their view and might prevent them from being able to get a good shot if needed.  In the end they decide to put it on, out of sight, out of mind.

The truck is ready to go.  We walk back to our house for lunch.  Everyone else is already there.  They're waiting outside this time though.  We eat lunch together.  The Bigs are going back with Diego and Nira to finish the cabin after lunch.  Mom, Dad, Brother and Sil all decide to go back to their places.  I invite them all back for supper.

Husband and I decide to cut firewood for the afternoon.  The woodshed is filling slowly.  We cut from the lot across the road.  It's not our land, but it's close and convenient. Afterwards we decide to walk to the back and see how things are progressing.

The cabin looks pretty cozy when we get there.  The walls are all up and the kids look like they're having fun, running back and forth with their hands full of clay.  They've got one side done.  Diego has the windows installed.  The Bigs have built a door.  They're standing in the doorway wondering how to attach it without hinges.  We tell them it looks good.  The kids are excited.  They want to sleep in it tonight.  Of course for them, it's like camping in the woods.

We go inside and look it over.  It's only 12'X16', so every inch will have to be planned carefully.  We talk about a loft for the kids to sleep in, with a bed underneath for Diego and Nira.  They can both be built from logs.  The other end of the cabin will have to be the kitchen, and left empty for now, until we work out the stove situation.  I wonder if the cow hide would be strong enough to hold the door up.  Husband doesn't think so, but rubber would.  We have some old tires that can be cut up and nailed into place.

We all walk back to the house together, and cook up a stir fry with yesterday's partridge, lots of weeds, and a pot of rice.  Mom, Dad, Brother and Sil join us.  Everyone is full and happy.

Brother and Sil will go to town in the morning to call Friend and see if they made it.  I have a stack of books that I want to take into the library.  We decide to give Tori another work out and take the horse cart.  Nira wants to go too, so she can pick out some books and check the store for supplies.  She and I will ride, with the others in the cart.

I finish another book before drifting off to sleep.

Day 9

I'm up early, alone again.  It doesn't feel as cool this morning.  Maybe above freezing?  It's raining and the snow has melted.  Hopefully the rain barrels will fill back up.  The battery has died in my outdoor thermometer.  I know I have more somewhere, but it's just not that important.  I stoke the stove, then start a pot of tea and a pot of coffee.  I open one of the bags of dandelions and start trimming off the roots.

This morning will be different, with 'company'.  It's important to establish that they are NOT company, right now, this morning.  We will not be taking care of them.  They can stay, as long as they work.  If that's going to be a problem, they can join us for breakfast and head on down the road.

Diego taps softly on the door, which sets the dogs off.  I try to open the door and they push through barking and growling.  Diego's a little freaked out and stumbles back.  In all of the commotion the plant stand by the door gets jostled and a shelf full of seeds goes flying.  I lose it.  I start screaming at the dogs to get out, I yell at Diego to get the hell out of the doorway.  Husband, who just got up, asks what's going on, and I snap at him.  He pushes me out of the way and surveys the damage.  Most of the seeds have landed on the window sill.  It's wet from condensation, and they're all mixed together.  I'll have to take my chances and dry them out again.  They might sprout or mold.  I hope not.

Diego apologizes several times.  It's really not his fault.  I was hoping the dogs would go outside instead of waking everyone up, but I should have known better.

He asks for coffee.  Husband grabs three cups out of the cupboard and hands him two.  I notice he doesn't get the sugar out.  He pours himself a coffee and hands Diego the pot.  Diego asks for sugar, and to my surprise  Husband says, "No.  She's got me on rations, no sugar in the coffee.  Be happy you get coffee.  She hasn't started rationing it yet."

I laugh.  "What do you think I'm doing with these?"  He scowls at the dandelions.  He doesn't like dandelion coffee.

Diego asks, "What are you doing with those?"

"Making coffee", I answer.  "I dry and grind the roots, then roast them.  You can drink them on their own, but Husband doesn't like them.  I mix them in with the coffee grounds though, and they help stretch it a bit further.  I'll mix them with tea this year too."

Nira taps at the door and I yell, "Come in!".  Diego hands her a black coffee and tells her I made it out of dandelions.  She looks disgusted, but doesn't comment.  She watches him drink his before she tastes it.

"Not bad, but it needs sugar," she says.  "It's much warmer in here than it is out there.  We need a stove."

"Well you're not getting one", I say.  "You're moving."

"You're throwing us out?", they both ask at the same time.  Husband looks at me.

"No.  But yes.", I say.  "You can sleep in the add-a-room while you build yourselves a shack.  I need my personal space- I'm not easy to live with- and the trailer's too close to the house.  You're going to need firewood, greens and water.  It'll be easier if you're farther away from the house."  Husband asks where I was thinking of putting them.  I tell him in the clearing at the back by the creek.  They'll have easy access to water, space to forage now, and grow a garden in the spring if things aren't back to normal, and there's a pile of scrap logs left from logging that  they can burn.  They can hunt and set snares close to their shack without us feeling like they're stealing our food.

"You guys aren't prepared for the apocalypse?", Diego quips.  "I thought you were preparing for the end of the world!"

"Preparing, yes.  Prepared, no."  The boys are all up and have spread around the kitchen.  "I took inventory yesterday.  I figure we can stave off scurvy for the winter, but we'd only get one serving of veggies a day each, and that was without 7 extra people.  We won't starve- we've got beef hanging, as well as beef, goat and poultry on the hoof, but we won't be eating like we're used to.  All of the manual labour that needs to be done burns extra calories.  We're going to have to ration, and we're going to have to work.  Starting today- we forage for greens.  I'm not serving any fruits and veggies that I have canned or frozen until the snow is too deep to find something fresh."

"What do you expect us to eat?  Dandelions?", Nira asks.

"Yes.  Lots of dandelions.  They'll be the easiest.  Plantain's pretty easy to find, but bitter.  Cattails.  The roots need to be dug for starch.  Comfrey, wild carrots, mint, and chives are still growing.  Clover, chickweed, purslane.  There are still lots of greens growing, you just need to learn to look for them.  The kids, too.  Everyone.  Wherever you go, wherever you walk, you need to be looking and picking."  I look at my boys when I say the last bit.  They know what most of the weeds look like, but other than a few dandelions for doggy stew, they've never really picked them.  I know they understand though.  We've got to set the example.

"You guys are going to have to get started right away, too.  After breakfast.  You'll need to get a shelter built quickly,  before the ground freezes.  Then we'll see what we can do about a stove or fireplace.  You haven't got much clothing with you, so you're going to need to be doing laundry a lot.  You'll need a bucket and a clothesline, and something to agitate it with.  You can eat with us for now, but you'll need some cooking pots later, utensils and whatnot.  You'll need a water filter, and more buckets, and a rain barrel.  And an outhouse down there.  There's a lot of work to do."

They both look overwhelmed.  I feel overwhelmed just saying it.  A million things are still racing through my head.  Stuff they need to do, stuff we need to do, stuff I can't control.

"And we need potatoes.  Husband, you're going to have to get that horse ready to go, the sooner the better.  I don't know if the potato man will take cash, or if he'll want something in trade.  Look around for stuff that will fit in the cart that might be good to trade.  I'll wrap up some beef."

#2 shows Nira how to mix pancake batter, how to heat and clean the cast iron pan, how to cook on the woodstove.  She takes over as soon as she's got it figured out.  Then he joins his brothers, picking the dandelion leaves off the roots and tossing them in a big pot.  I keep cutting the roots off.  The rest of the kids come in, just as the pancakes are finished.  They're all hungry, and obviously enjoy the pancakes and blueberry syrop.

After breakfast the Bigs and Husband go out and jack up the old pick up truck.  We need to borrow the wheels off of it for the horse cart.  They get them put on, then pull the cart out.  They get Tori out of the pasture and harness her up.  She was broke to pull a buggy when we bought her, but we've never used her that way.  Husband hasn't been interested in horse work since we sold the Belgiums three years ago.  This will be quite the crash course in training for both of them.

I finish cutting the dandelion roots, then scrub them with a potato brush.  They need to be ground up, so I haul out the old hand crank meat grinder.  I enlist the Littles to keep turning the crank as I feed the roots through.  Once they're done, I spread them out on a cookie sheet in the oven on the stove top.

The Littles run out to play with the other kids.  I remind them to pick dandelions before they come in.

I go about my usual routine, heating water, filtering water, washing dishes.  I start more bread.  I get the soup pot ready with the dandelion greens, then run out and pick a few chives.  I add a package of frozen turkey and some noodles.

The Bigs walk down to the back clearing with Diego and Nira.  They point out and pick edible weeds as they go.  They've got a chainsaw, the post hole digger, a hammer,  and a bucket of spikes with them.  They pick out a flat spot in the clearing that looks like it should be good to dig in, and explain to Diego how to build a greenhouse.  It's our typical building construction method.  The three of them dig post holes, cut logs, and frame it in.  We don't have any tin left to spare, and we're down to the last sheet of pressboard.  #2 decides to cover the entire roof with poles.  It's a lot of cutting, but only the poles and the plastic will be keeping them dry and warm this winter.  They leave the tools there and walk back for lunch.

Husband returns for lunch as well.  He's test driven the cart to both of the neighbours' and had a long visit.  The southern neighbour's mother has died- she was on dialysis, with a host of medical problems.  They were unable to get her to the hospital.  They buried her in their yard.  Husband is quiet for a moment, eyes glassed over.  I'm sure he is thinking of his own mother, in a nursing home down south.  There's no way to know for sure, but I can imagine the rooms filled with bodies, equipment not working, and no one there  to run it anyway.  Our eyes meet, but we don't say it out loud.

Husband starts talking again.  They have food and candles to last a few weeks, but will have to let their horses loose since they don't have the hay to feed them.  This will be a problem for us.  Our hay is in the yard, easily accessible to strays.  We'll have to close up the yard fence, but it's only two strands of barbed wire.  If the horses come, it won't keep them out for long.  We may have to shoot them.

The northern neighbours are packing up and heading to their daughter's place an hour away.  They're travelling by horses and cart, but the ponies will be left behind.  There should be enough hay there for the winter.

Tori did well with the cart, and husband is confident that she'll be fine to make the trip.  He'll go in the morning.

Everyone has soup for lunch, though the kids barely pick at it.  It's far too weird for them.  I give them each a hunk of bread to dip into it, but they mostly just eat the bread.  The dogs will have a good soupy lunch instead.

After lunch Diego, Nira and the kids head back to their camp with a shovel to dig an outhouse.  I tell them to keep it up away from the creek.  Husband lets them take a couple of windows from the pile as well.

I add more dandelions to the soup, then spread the rest out on the plant stands to dry.  I stir the dandelion grounds, and decide to leave them bake awhile longer.  I look in the freezer and choose a package of sausages for supper, leaving them on the counter to defrost.

We grab a couple of chainsaws and walk to Brother and Sil's camp.  They've cut quite a bit of wood, but it's a big job for just two people.  The Bigs pick out a spot down the trail a bit and start digging a hole for an outhouse for them.  The rest of us work on firewood all afternoon.

We walk back home to find Diego and Nira in our house.  It gives me a sick feeling.  They're not strangers, but still, I feel my space has been invaded.  Nira has taken it upon herself to cook supper.  They took the oven off the stove top and put it on the table, where it burned a ring into the surface.  They put too much wood in the fire and the sausages are frazzled.  They didn't put the soup back on, so it's cold.  The sink is steaming with hot water.  I look over and see that the drinking water pot is empty.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask.

"The kids were hungry, so we came back to get something to eat.", says Diego.

Husband can see I am going to lose it.  He starts rubbing my shoulder, and then he sees the table.  He loses it himself.  "What the hell?  You put a hot oven on top of a wooden table?  How stupid are you?"

"Well, we didn't want to burn the floor.", says Diego.

"So you burned our table instead?  The floor is tile, it won't burn, you moron.  What the hell else have you been doing?"

Diego sputters a bit.  "We were just trying to help.  Nira's cooking, washing dishes.  Sorry about the table, but we didn't know."

"You're right.  You didn't know.",  I say.  I'm not yelling or screaming.  I'm actually very calm.  "You didn't know that a hot oven will burn a wooden table.  You didn't know that the soup needs to be reheated for supper.  You didn't know that you can't turn down the heat on a woodstove.  You didn't know that you don't wash dishes with clean drinking water.  You didn't know that more water needs to go on the stove when you empty the pot.  You didn't know that the bread needed to go in the oven before you took the oven off.  There's a lot of things you don't know.  We're willing to let you stay here and learn, and maybe survive this black out.  But you should leave things you don't know alone.  Or I might have to shoot you myself."

The room is now very quiet.  I hand the empty water pot to #1, who takes it out to refill.  Husband takes the oven off the table and sets it on the sunroom floor.  He takes the sausages off the wood stove and puts the soup on.  #2 looks at the damage, then goes out to the garage.  He comes back with some sandpaper and quickly sands around the edges of the burn to remove loose varnish.  I roll out the bread.

Finally, Nira breaks the silence, "I don't see what the point of heating the soup up is.  Nobody's going to eat it anyway.  If you're going to buy potatoes tomorrow, we might as well eat the ones we have now, instead of eating that garbage."

"Nira."  I sigh.  "We ate the soup for lunch.  We will eat the soup with supper.  We prefer not to be hungry.  You and your family need to learn to eat different things, or you will not survive the winter.  Maybe you'll get lucky and the hydro will come back on soon, but there's no way to know that.  We do not have enough food for us all to survive the winter."

I look at Diego, who hasn't said anything.  "IF everything goes well, we will get potatoes tomorrow.  Husband and Tori have a long ride to the potato man's.  They could be attacked on the way, or on the way home.  They could be attacked when they get there.  There might not be any potatoes.  Husband might have to dig the potatoes.  The potato man might not be willing to sell.  We don't have much cash, and he might want a lot for a little.  He might refuse cash , because it's really not worth the paper it's printed on right now.  We have no idea how things will go tomorrow.  We will not count our chickens before they hatch."

#2 says, "I can go with Dad.  I can help dig potatoes, or fight people who try to attack us."

"Me too.", says #1.

I am still staring at Diego.  He looks up at Husband.  "I will go with you.", he says.

The soup is boiling.  I move things around on the stove, put the oven back on and put the bread in.  We sit down to eat.  The kids, of course, don't want to eat the soup.  They get a half sausage each, and Diego tells them this is all the food they're getting.  They better eat or they're going to bed hungry.  They pick at it.  When the bread is done I cut two loaves and give everyone a chunk.

We talk about how their construction went in the afternoon.  Diego managed to frame in the windows, but Nira and the kids didn't get much of a hole dug.  They hit clay about a foot down, which is very hard to dig through.  I tell them that's good, because they'll need the clay to fill the chinks between logs on the house.  After supper I let Nira wash the dishes and I fill jars with the dandelion coffee.  I pour about half a cup full into the open coffee container, then shake it up to mix in.

I play a game of chess with each of my boys.  I'm afraid to let them go tomorrow, but also afraid to let them stay.  There is safety in numbers.

We go to bed early, tired from a hard day's work, and knowing tomorrow will require an early start.