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 114- Scary Travels

The Bigs have been out ice fishing every few days.  They managed to get a trail broke with the sleigh back to one of the lakes on crown land.  It's a little closer than the highway lakes, and surprisingly they've caught a few fish.  They set snares along the way and caught a couple of rabbits and a fox as well.  The fox went to the chickens, along with some pine branches. 

The fish bones and guts went into the doggy stew pot.  The rice is gone now.  The stew is mostly gravy- thickened with flour, with meat and veggies.  We're feeding them twice as much as we used to, but they're already losing weight.  I'm trying to keep them from getting hungry enough to harm the livestock.

Husband met up with one of our old hay farmers, Ray.  He had large round bales but no way to load or haul them.  Husband rigged up the stone boat to the back of the sleigh, and with the Bigs help they were able to push one of the bales onto the stone boat and haul it home.  They've been back a few times, only able to transport one bale at a time.  In trade the farmer has asked for help butchering and selling his cattle.  He had 300 head going in to winter, sold and ate about 50.  He wants to get all of his open cattle butchered and sold before spring.

We head over to his place with knives and sharpening stones early in the morning.  The Littles stay home.  Ray and his sons have divided the herd when we get there.  He has 40 head that he wants butchered.  The store in town is taking orders for beef for them.  Ten have been 'sold' so far- in exchange for labour in the spring.  After the first cow is shot, gutted and hung, #2 and I get to work butchering with Ray and his sons.  Husband and #1 continue shooting and gutting, with Ray's sons helping to get them hung up.  Ray has enough room in part of his barn to hang 20 head, so they keep working on that through the day.  The rest of us manage to get 5 cows butchered by late afternoon. 

Our sleigh is loaded with beef wrapped in feed bags.  They're not very sanitary, but they're plentiful.  He wants us to take the load south, stopping at the towns along the way to Southern City, trading for whatever we can.  He wants help to get his crops planted in the spring, and hay harvested mid summer most of all, but he'll take anything we can get.  He needs the herd thinned out before spring. 

The next day Husband and I head south with the meat.  Husband rigs the stone boat to the back of the sleigh, and takes lots of baler twine along to tie things on.  The highway is fairly well packed from other travellers, so the ride south is fairly smooth.

I take a notebook to write down the names and addresses of those who are willing to work, and draw maps to Ray's place.  All along the highway people come out of their homes to see what we've got.  Most don't have much left to trade with, but some seem eager to trade for labour.  One guy even offers to come and help butcher the next day.

Folks in Littletown are happy to trade, though most don't think they'll be able to travel that far to work in the spring.  We trade beef for pots and pans, blankets, clothing, tools, and tires.  The sleigh and stone boat are overloaded.

Few in Hutterite Village are interested in trading.  They have a plentiful supply of meat of their own. 

We get to Southern City and slowly drive the horses down the main street.  No one seems to be around.  We decide to try the side streets in the residential areas and see if anyone comes out.  The first street we turn onto has a small convenience store on the corner with a couple of people hanging around outside.  We stop and chat.  They tell us to go back to the mall and wait in the parking lot while they tell people why we're there.

It seems a little strange, sitting in this deserted little city waiting for people to arrive.  I have both hands wrapped around my gun.  Husband keeps telling me to relax, but I notice he's holding on to his too.  We wait for about twenty minutes, and then see some men come around the corner headed towards us.  There are eight of them, and they all have guns.  I think we're going to die. 

They walk up calmly, maybe a little too friendly.  The 'sheriff' introduces himself.  They're all very chatty, and all eye balling the sleigh.  We tell them Ray's plan, to trade the meat now for labour later.  They keep smiling and nodding.  They tell us to pull the sleigh up beside the doors to the former grocery store.  Husband moves the sleigh slowly, and I can see on his face he's debating whether to make a run for it.  I whisper, "We'll get shot."  He pulls the sleigh up to the doors.

The men start unloading the beef.  Husband asks what they're going to trade for it.  The sheriff says, "I'm sure we can work something out".  He invites us in to the store once the meat is unloaded.  I decide to stay out with the sleigh.  I sit there waiting nervously for over half an hour, until finally, Husband comes out with the other men.  They have three sacks of potatoes and I can tell they come from the potato man.  Some of them are carrying garbage bags, one has a basket of turnips.  They help load the sleigh and stone boat and tie everything down.  Husband says, "Ok, we'll see you next time then," and jumps back on the sleigh. 

The sheriff hollers, "Hold on a minute".  I still think these strange men are going to kill us.  He walks over to us with some papers in his hand.  "A couple of letters headed north".  We smile and thank him and head out of town.

I ask Husband what went on inside.  He explains that the old grocery store is still being used as a grocery store, but the sheriff and his men are in charge.  They'll sell or trade off the beef with the townsfolk rather than us trading with any individuals.  They did agree to make a list of people who would be willing to come and work for Ray for next time we come down.  They've got a make shift jail cell with three prisoners inside too.  He doesn't think they'd take 'no deal' for an answer if we didn't like their trade items.  Husband says next time I have to stay home.  He'll bring Brother or Diego with him instead.

We go to the store in the Hutterite Village, where people seem nice, normal, and civilized.  Husband mentions what happened in Southern City, and the workers smile.  "Best to stay away from them English".

I trade some of the goods we've collected for a couple of jars of honey.  We head back home.

The boys bring the potatoes and honey in the house.  We'll take them to Ray's tomorrow after another day of butchering.  We eat our stew for supper and spend the evening sharpening knives.

Day 100- Ice Fishing and News

The weather has warmed considerably.  Nights are still cold, in the -30°C range, but the days are barely hitting -10°C now.  Of course that shift in temperature brings fresh snow, and freezing rain. 

Niece1 and Niece2 took the Littles, the kids and Sally back to 'school' when the weather broke, while Husband, Brother, Dad, Diego and the Bigs went ice fishing.  It didn't go well. 

The snow is too deep to make it back to the good lakes, so a lot of people are out on the lakes by the highway.  They were lucky enough to find several previously drilled holes to fish in, that only needed the fresh ice cut, but the lakes are really being over fished right now.  Dad managed to catch one small pike, Diego got a larger one, but the others have no luck.

Chatting with others in the area they learn that there is mail in town!  There's no organized 'postal service', but people have started taking pen to paper, passing letters on to whomever happens to be going the right direction.  A few people in town have heard from relatives from the south, and one got a letter from Manitoba.    The news in general is that there is no government, no corporations, no military coming to the rescue.  There are self appointed local sheriffs in some towns, and maybe even a mayor, but mostly just people trying to get by. 

Home alone for the day, I walk to Sil's for a visit.  She's been busy knitting and making rugs through the cold spell.  She's nearly out of material for rugs and completely out of yarn.  She has their floor completely covered, with more rugs of various sizes covering furniture and walls.  She may be able to trade some of them at the store.  Their food stores are running low, since it's been too cold to hunt.  I tell her I'll send over some beef when the men return.  We decide to walk to Mom's together.

We take the back trail and stop in at the cabin by the creek to see Lisa.  She's happy for the company.  She's been keeping busy whittling and has started to develop some skill.  She's made a few wooden spoons and is working on a ladle.  She and Sally have dug out a root cellar under her bed, giving them more room for storage and more clay to fill the chinks.  Today she's busy cutting firewood to replenish her pile. 

We find Mom outside in her garden shed.  She doesn't usually start her own seeds in pots, but has started getting things organized for this year.  Dad plans to put a small woodstove in the greenhouse and start tomatoes and cucumbers from seed.  I tell her I've finished sorting and organizing my seeds, and have tomatoes and peppers started already.  She gets out her seed stash and starts sorting while we're there. 

Mom and Dad's garden has always been pretty simple- tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, peas, onions, turnip and lettuce.  They grew potatoes last year, and hopes they left enough in the ground to bring up another crop this year.  They want to try a few cabbages and some carrots this year, but otherwise don't plan to try much new.  I'm sure I have enough seed for that.

Walking home I stop and stare at the back field.  I want a new greenhouse put up in the spring, to keep the squash and pumpkins separated.  In truth, it probably isn't far enough apart for proper seed saving, but for now it's the best that I can do.  We'll need to fence off the clearing too, to keep as much of the wildlife out as possible.

When the others return and share the news, I send Brother and Sally home with a couple of roasts and some stew meat.  Hearing that mail is moving gives me a bit of a thrill.  This one small service could be the beginning of a return to civilization. 

The Littles had a good day at the community center.  They played outside most of the day.  It seems all of the children had too much pent up energy from being cooped up the past week or so to sit still and do any work.  I laugh as they tell me all of their stories.  It's nice to see them getting along for a change.

After another meal of stew- the pot is never ending, always on the woodstove now- we all head off to bed and read.

Day 99- In The Cities

When the power went out people went crazy.  So many people, so unprepared, so close together.  People went to work for the first few days, but found little they could do.  The retailers lasted a bit longer, almost a week, until desperate people with no access to money started pillaging for whatever food and supplies they could get their hands on.  It wasn't safe to go to work.  It wasn't their problem anyway.  Let the store owners deal with the pillagers.

Crime was at an all time high.  Looters were out on the streets, breaking into buildings, taking the big ticket items- the big tvs, stereos, computers.  They expected to be sitting pretty once the power came back on.  The days passed, as gangs and looters ran into each other and fought in the streets, as they stabbed, shot and bludgeoned one another to death.  Riots broke out across the cities.  Desperate people, with nothing to eat, worried about friends and family, got caught in the crossfire.

People were afraid to leave their homes.  They barricaded the doors, covered the windows, hiding in the dark, waiting for rescue. 

Police tried to maintain order.  So much crime.  So many deaths.  Bodies littering the streets.  They're human too.  People were out of control.  The world was out of control.  Each day fewer and fewer officers showed up to work.  They too were hungry.  They too were worried about their families.  They knew it wasn't safe to leave their families at home alone.  And for what?  To do body counts?  There was no controlling the raging mobs.  There were no jails to put them in- the guards were gone, no food to feed them, no electricity to power the security.  Their only recourse was to shoot to kill.

The doctors and nurses went to work.  They tried to care for their patients.  Back up generators ran out of fuel.  Equipment failed.  People died.  More and more sick, injured, hungry and desperate people came in.  The medicines ran out.  The bodies piled up.  The hospitals became centres for disease out breaks and crime.  They were human too.  There was nothing they could do.  One by one, they stopped going to work and chose to stay with their families.

Government and city officials became targets for crime.  People were convinced that they must have food and supplies in their big fancy houses.  People were angry that nothing was being done about the power outage, the crime, the services.  Of course some public officials managed to flee, but many were murdered.

Weeks passed.  Desperate, hungry people couldn't hide any more.  They ventured out of their hiding places looking for food.  Looking for some sense of safety, some sense or order.  Many were killed.  Many got sick from the disease infested streets.  Bodies lay rotting in the streets.

Some made it out of the cities, to friends and family in smaller towns.  Some stayed.  Some took disease with them and sentenced those who had given them refuge to die as well.

Day 95- Planning Ahead

It's even colder now.  I mean, seriously, you have to be careful just breathing outside!  The air is so cold it feels like it freezes your lungs.  We can't step outside for even a minute without our faces covered.  It hurts so bad.  I don't know how the animals are handling it.  They all seem to be fine though.  The dogs still enjoy romping in the snow in the afternoons too.  People are wimps.

We haven't been out much.  No visiting.  I hope everyone else is doing ok.  If not, they'll have to come here, cause we aren't going there!

On a positive note, the fishing should be good if we get a rise in temp.  The lakes should be well frozen over.  The Bigs are rather excited to get out ice fishing, and have spent the last few days finding and packing supplies.  Normally they would go to a friend's ice hut, but that's too far to walk now, and no telling if there are even any huts out on the lake.  They packed a small tent that they hope will work as a bit of a wind break.  I think if it's windy the tent will just blow away.  They've got blow up cushions for seats, blankets, and candles, along with all of the fishing gear.  The hard part will be breaking through the ice.  We're going to try one of the lakes along the highway, where hopefully others will have been out cutting holes already, rather than the small lakes behind us which are likely to be solid.  But not until it gets a little warmer...

In the meantime, I've been taking advantage of the extra labour in the house.  We've sorted through everyone's closet and removed worn out, damaged, and no longer fitting clothes.  Anything that didn't get hand me downed has been added to my material stash.  I'm slowly getting old blankets recovered, ready for a few more years use.  Buttons and zippers are carefully removed and stored.  Seams from old jeans are cut and saved for garden ties.  Nothing can be wasted now.

The Bigs did a cobweb sweep of the basement.  It was starting to feel so creepy, with the dim light from the candles and the cobwebs seemingly everywhere.  I hate spiders.

We sorted and tidied the cold room.  It's a little emptier than I had thought, but we're still doing ok.  We'll make it through winter anyway.  The last pumpkin was starting to turn, so it's on cooking now. 

We're on our last bag of rice.  That's going to change things drastically.  Rice is one of the key ingredients for doggy stew, as well as our current chicken feed.  We haven't been eating as much of it this winter, but even with cutting back and extra meat for the dogs- this is it.  I don't know what we're going to feed them without it either.  I don't have much oatmeal or flour.  They might have to go on a mostly meat diet.  We might have to think about reducing the number of dogs too. 

Rice is irreplaceable.  I can't grow it in the garden.  There is wild rice along some of the lakes, but not nearly enough to harvest and store for next winter.  I only have a bit of wheat seed, not enough for a crop, just enough to grow for more seed.  Peas are the only thing I can think of that will grow in sufficient quantity and provide that same filling consistency.  I wonder what the dogs will think of that.  Pea soup.

We're down to our last two bales of hay.  Husband is hoping for a break in the weather- then he'll try taking the sleigh down the back roads and hopefully find someone to trade with.  We're hoping we don't have to go to the Hutterite village.  That would be a long cold ride.  We'll need at least another 15 bales to make it through the winter.  Then we'll need to do some serious fencing in the spring.  I've been trying to get more fences up for years now, but it never seems to happen.  This year we'll have to make it a priority.

There are so many things to make priorities this year;  fences, gardens, foraging, fishing, firewood, hay.  At least everyone will be home to help.  There will be many long days of hard work ahead.