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.

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 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 18- Cattails

Husband gets up and makes his own coffee.  It's cold again this morning, but no more snow. 

I hurt this morning.  At first I think it's from the firewood yesterday, but the more I think about it, the sooner I realize it's just that time.  My period should start in the next couple of days.  I add a bit of dried yarrow to my tea pot today.  Hopefully that will help with the cramping, which is already starting to spread.  At least I don't have to worry about pads.  I've been using rags instead of commercial products for a couple of years already.  But then I think of Nira, Sil and the girls.  They're probably going to need some supplies.

Husband asks what I want to do today.  "As little as possible," I answer.   "I hurt.  Cramps.  Bloated.  Miserable."

"Do you still want to go and see Diego and Nira today?"

"Sure.  But I'm not butchering if they haven't finished yet."

The boys get up and make pancakes.  I start three batches of bread.  #1 gets me another bag of flour from the cold room.  I count back in my head.  At our current rate of consumption we have enough flour for about 140 days, less than five months.  I'll have to start rationing it a bit.  I can't think of anything to use in place of flour, so we'll just have to ration the end products, use less bread each day.  We still need to dig the cattails too.  I know part of them can be used for flour, but I don't remember which part, or at what point in the year.  I'll have to look that up.  I pull out my binder of weeds and herbs and old fashioned stuff and flip through to a couple of articles I saved about cattails.  It seems the starch I was after is the flour as well.  The pollen can also be used for flour in the spring.  I guess we'll dig them up and see how much we yield.  I wanted the starch to replace corn starch, which I'm already low on, but I guess I could just add it to the flour bin and use flour for gravy.

Since there are cattails in the ditches on the way to northern neighbour's, today's as good a day as any to dig them out.  I get my potato peeler, a couple of buckets, give my pocket knife a quick sharpening, and dig out my rubber boots.  Wet feet would not be welcome.  The boys get their rubber boots as well, and #1 gets a garden fork.

The Bigs do chores and check on Tori.  She still seems stiff and sore, so she won't be pulling the horse cart.  They give Knightmare, Samson and Shiloh each another workout.  Samson is responding really well.  They think he's ready to try pulling the stone boat, but we'll wait until tomorrow to try it.

We decide to take my quad and trailer today.  It means we'll be using fuel, but with any luck the cattails will be too heavy to carry.  We take a chainsaw as well, in case there's room in the trailer for firewood.  More buckets and another fork are added to the load, along with the roast I picked out yesterday.

We eat lunch- beef stew leftovers, before we head out.  I roll out the bread.  The Bigs ride Samson and Knightmare, the Littles climb in the trailer, and Husband and I ride on my quad.  We check in at Mom and Dad's as we go past, but they aren't home.  The small boat is gone, so I wish them luck with the fishing.

We stop and dig cattails in the ditches several times, filling four buckets.  We decide to dig more on the way back so the Littles still have room to ride.

Diego and Nira come out to greet us when Tank starts barking.  Yesterday afternoon they had 'visitors' from town looking for beef.  They told them no one on this road had any cows.  Northern neighbour used to have cows but sold them last year.  Since they weren't in the field I guess the visitors believed them.  Thankfully the visitors didn't come our way.  Yet, anyway.

They ask what"s up with the cattails, so I tell them my plan.  They laugh about the beef, and say they had planned to give us a bear roast.  They've finished butchering, though they seem to have dulled every knife they could find to use.  We load the knives on the trailer- we'll sharpen them at home.


"Do you want any of the bones or fat for the dogs?", Diego asks.  They figure they have more than enough for Tank.

"Sure, I'll take anything you aren't going to use!", I answer.  I can't believe they're willing to part with the fat.  We go into the shed where they did their butchering and find a pile of bones, fat and the hide.  It still amazes me how wasteful they are.  Maybe I over react and plan for the end of the world, but it's been 18 days, and it still seems like they still think the power will be back on any minute now.  #2 pulls my quad up beside the shed and we start filling the remaining buckets with all of the parts.  We spread the hide out over top of them.

"How are you going to tan that hide?", Diego asks.

"I'm not.  I'm going to hang it on the garage, salt it and scrape it.  It's easier and quicker."

There's a small freezer in the shed that they're using for the meat.  There were a few things in it when they first arrived, but not enough to keep it cold, so most of it had spoiled.  Apparently Tank had gotten into it when they dumped it and then got sick.  That's why they don't want all of the bones and scraps laying around.  The freezer still isn't full, but with the cooler weather the meat has frozen.  I tell them to find some pop bottles or something to fill with water and fill the freezer.  It'll help keep the meat frozen if the weather warms up again.

The boys run off with the kids to see the ponies and put our horses in the pasture for now.  It's a big pasture with just two small ponies in it, so our horses are happily munching on grass.  The kids and the Littles take turns riding the ponies around bareback.

In the house I see Nira has a growing collection of edible weeds on shelves in the windows.  It turns out that the pantry was mostly assorted pickles and the kids don't like them.  She's gone back to gathering weeds and they're gradually getting used to them.  They plan to go to town tomorrow to see if they can trade them for other veggies.  It's worth a shot, although they'd probably have better luck trading some of the bear.  She offers us a jar of each to try.  I'm happy to take them.

I start feeling a little guilty about taking all of the bear fat.  I ask Nira what she's using for grease, lard and candles.  She says there's lots of cooking oil in the pantry, though she could use some lard for pies, and butter would be great.  I tell her bear fat is supposed to be a lot like pig fat, though I've never tried it, and ask if she wants some of it back to render.  She's never rendered lard before, so she says she'll pass this time, but would like to try some after I make it.  I suppose that's fair enough.

So far they're doing ok with flour, sugar, and other staples.  Nira's been doing a lot of baking, as it seems the neighbour's were well stocked with cake mixes and such.  She asks if we can spare any eggs.  I tell her not yet, but I'll see what I can do in the future.

She has a collection of buckets spread around the kitchen as well.  I notice one of them is full of rocks and sand, so I ask if that's her water filter.  She lifts it up to show me the large hole cut in the bottom, covered by window screen.  She pours a bucket of water through to show me how fast it works.  I think that would work well for laundry, but I'll stick to the pipe for drinking water.

They need firewood, and lots of it.  The neighbours used to use their tractor to drag trees up all winter long as they needed it.  They need fuel as well.  Diego found a chainsaw, and several empty jerry cans.  He's hoping to find a car on the way to town to siphon fuel from.  There's a jug of 2-cycle oil to mix for the chainsaw, so they should be fine as long as they can get gas.  I wonder how many other people are siphoning gas from abandoned cars?  How long will we have this fuel source?

Nira has unburied an old foot treadle sewing machine in the basement and has been using it to make clothes for the kids from clothes the neighbours left behind.  I hope the neighbours don't hurry home.  They're in for a shock when they do arrive.   It's great that she knows how to use the machine though.  Maybe she can teach me in the winter.  I'm sure by then the boys will be needing some new clothes as well.

I ask Nira how they're doing for toilet paper, and if she's thought of her monthlies.  They ran out of toilet paper a few days ago, and have started using cloth.  She hadn't thought about her period, so I tell her that I just use old towels cut into appropriate sizes, and wash them out afterward.  I tell her some people sew their own reusable pads as well, but I've never bothered.

We spend most of the afternoon visiting.  Husband and Diego spend most of it outside in the shop fiddling with things.  They're going to come to our house in the morning to take my library books to town for me.

Even though the buckets are all full, we stop several times to dig more cattails, piling them on top of the bear hide.

Mom and Dad are back when we go by, so we stop in to see how the fishing went.  They caught three fish, and left the boat behind.  They tell us where it is so if we want to try our luck we don't have to drag a boat to the lake.  That works out well for us, because then we can ride the horses and let them graze while we fish instead of taking the quads and wasting fuel.

Back at home it's supper time and I haven't got anything ready.  I put the oven on the stove top and put the bread in to bake while the boys bring in the cattails and buckets.  I look in the freezer and wish I had planned ahead and put a roast on this morning.  Quick cooking meals are getting fewer and farther between.  I pull out a package of chicken legs for tonight. 

I get out one of my big canning pots and start sorting through the bones and fat in the buckets.  I drop the fat into the pot, trimming as I go, and toss the bones and trimmings back in the buckets.  The boys will saw through them to make them more manageable sizes for doggy stew.  With this lot I should have enough doggy stew meat to last the winter.  Unfortunately, I don't have the rice and veggies to match it.

The Littles do chores and the Bigs cut the bones.  I start filling the doggy stew pot.  Two cups of rice, 1/2 cup flour.  I add some dried weeds, some of the stems from the cattails, and lots of bones, then cover it all with water.  I switch the bread in the oven.

I lay out the chicken in a cast iron pan and add some seasoning.  I make up a pan of potatoes.  Everything is waiting for the bread to be done in the oven.  The second batch finishes and I put in the third.

I start peeling the cattails.  Husband joins me.  The boys come in with what little snow we've managed to collect.  We'll have to make another trip to the creek tomorrow.  They start peeling cattails as well.

I start supper when the bread finishes.  We all peel cattails while it cooks.  We finish peeling just as supper is done.  I put them in a big pot and pour water over them.  I hope it won't hurt to leave it sit overnight.  I am exhausted. 

After supper Husband and the Bigs sit around the table taking turns sharpening knives.  I set the doggy stew pot on the stove to cook overnight, along with the bear fat.  I pull out a few rhizomes at a time and beat them with my kitchen mallet, then toss them back in the pot.  I don't know if I got all of them or not, but that's enough for today.    It's time for bed. 

Day 14

I slept well for the first few hours, then tossed and turned the rest of the night.  I'm up before dawn, but I wasn't going back to sleep anyway, so what was the point of laying in bed?  I take the oven off the woodstove and check the jerky.  I think it's a little overdone.  Overdone is better than underdone though.  I make tea- no coffee today.  The dishes are really piling up again, especially with everything we used for butchering yesterday.  The rain barrels are getting low, so we'll have to haul water from the creek when we pick up the laundry.

The boys are up early too.  We're all stiff and sore, with several more days of butchering ahead of us.  I put a pot of water on to boil for the dishes, and another filled with bones for beef stock.  I chop a few carrots and throw in some chives.  At least this nice weather is keeping the herbs and weeds growing.  The beef stock and weeds will make soup, along with a few potatoes,  for lunch for the next few days.

We eat pancakes for breakfast, then the Bigs join me in the garage after chores.  #1 lights a fire under the smoker outside and leaves it to get hot.  We cut up one of the front quarters, dividing the shoulder into 12 roasts.  We start another tray for ground beef, cutting the brisket and meat off the ribs into it.  The Bigs work on grinding it up while i start trimming the fat off the roasts.  The fat goes in a bucket to be rendered into tallow later.

After packaging the meat and laying it out in the freezer, we break for a late lunch.  The soup won't be ready until tomorrow, so for today we just eat bread and jam.

After lunch I check the smoker.  It seems hot to me.  I add some cherry wood chips to the coals underneath, then layer the meat on the racks.  I close in the bottom of the smoker with gravel and dirt and hope for the best.

The Bigs get the horse cart ready.  This will be their first time driving without their father around.  They tie the other horses alongside so they can all graze at the back while we're there.  I fill two more ice cream buckets with ashes, nesting them inside of other buckets so there will be lots of lye water on my next laundry day.  I find another piece of PVC pipe to take for a water filter.  I'm not planning on using it for drinking water, so I'll fill it at the creek.  I take some material and elastics to put it together.  The Bigs strap one of the empty rain barrels onto the cart to bring water back to the house.

We go around by Sil's to see if she wants to come with us and do some laundry.  She loads a couple of baskets and adds them to the cart.  I notice she has weeds drying in their shed.  She brings a bucket to pick more.

At the creek we discover that something has gotten tangled in the clotheslines.  Laundry is knocked down everywhere.  Most of it is still clean and dry, but I have to rewash some of it.  I layer rocks, material and sand in the filter, then fasten material over the ends.  We scoop water by bucket into the filter and fill the bathtub for laundry.  The boys keep scooping water to fill the rain barrel while I wash.  It'll still need to be boiled and filtered at home, but at least it looks clean.  I dump the ashes out of the bucket that was already there, and refill it from the two I brought with me.  I cover all three with water and leave them inside the cabin.  Sil does her laundry.  The two of us ring out the bigger stuff- jeans and a blanket.  I still don't think it's worth the effort involved to ring it out. 

The boys fix the clotheslines and check the fence.  They can't see where anything would have gotten in, except through the creek.  Hopefully it won't happen again.  They add a few more small trees to the fence, starting a lower line on the fence.  If we can make it secure enough, we'll be able to bring the cows down instead of watering them if it doesn't rain soon.

We pack up the dry laundry and get ready to go.  The horses seem like they would like to stay awhile, but we drag them out anyway.  We'll bring them back tomorrow.  Sil and I walk beside the cart and pick weeds as we go.

The cart jerks to a stop and #2 grabs my .22.  I figure he's spotted a partridge, but to my surprise he shoots a fox.  Nice shot and good riddance!  Shiloh freaks out over the gunshot and breaks her lead as she rears.  Samson, the horse from the neighbour, looks shaky too.  We wait for Shiloh to stop running and calm down before #1 attempts to grab her.  She's not too disagreeable, because as much as she wants to run she also wants to be back with the other horses.  We'll have to start doing cap gun training with the two of them.

Back at the house the boys put the horses and cart away, then check the chickens to make sure they got the fox before it got lunch.  They bring in three eggs.  I am so happy with that!  Sil and I jar up the dried weeds and lay out the fresh ones.  The Littles put away the laundry.

The beef stock is ready to can, so I pull it off the stove and put my canner in it's place.  Sil pops empty jars into the pot of boiling water while I strain the stock from the bones.  I get another pot ready and pour a few inches of stock into it.  We pull the meat off the bones, along with the carrots, and put it into the second pot.  Sil tosses in two good handfulls of weeds.  The Littles peel a few potatoes and chop them up.  The soup will sit on one of the side grills overnight to keep warm.  Sil pulls the jars back out of the boiling water and I fill them.  We fill the canner and let it pressurize.

I check the meat in the smoker and it seems to be drying.  The smoker is still hot, so I don't disturb the fire.

We all walk over to Mom's to check on her.  She's kept herself busy stacking firewood most of the day.  The boys get her some water from the spring and she asks where we've been getting water from.  I tell her  we've been using rain water and getting water from the creek.  She wants to go with us to do some laundry tomorrow.

We all walk back to our house for supper.  Hamburgers tonight, with fresh ground beef.  I check the smoker again, and it's cooling off.  The meat looks to be about done anyway, so I take it in the house to cool.  I set the oven back on the woodstove and put in the last tray of meat to dry overnight.

We play cards for awhile, then Mom and Sil walk back to Mom's.  Sil will spend the night there.  We're all tired too, and decide to call it a night.

Day 10- A Trip To The Potato Man

I'm up early.  Or still.  I didn't sleep much last night.  I stoke the stove, start coffee and tea, and then start a batch of bread.  I pour myself a cup of tea- it'll be the last one with honey.  I wonder why I never went to the local apiary myself.  I always meant to, to see if they had larger jars or better prices than what the grocery store carried.  But then, I also enjoyed the convenience of buying it from the grocery store, and the best way too show them that was to keep buying it there.  Except now, I don't know where they are and I can't call for directions.  I know they're somewhere near the potato man.  It would have been good to make two stops on one trip.

Husband gets up and pours himself a coffee.  He puts his sugar in, then hides the canister at the back of the cupboard.  He sits down at the table and sees the empty honey jar.  "So I suppose this means I'm going to have to start sharing my sugar with you."

I laugh.  "Yeah, unless you want to go on a wild goose chase and find me some more honey."  He looks over the jar.  Just a rural route number, no road address.

"Why didn't you ever start a beehive?", he asks.

I just stare at him.  "Seriously?"  He starts to laugh.

"What?  My super woman afraid an itty bitty bee's going to kill her..."  He's roaring now.  I can't help it.  I laugh too.  I had thought about getting a hive, but I am allergic.  The bumbles are better suited to our climate and less likely to attack me, so I never pursued it.  Though in all honesty, the bees get a bad rap.  I've never been stung by a bee- it's always the wasps and spiders that put me in the hospital.

There's a tap at the door and the dogs go wild.  I think they're edgier since it's so quiet now without the constant hum of all the hydro sucking appliances.  Husband grabs two of them and I get the door with just Smitty as my guard.  To my surprise, it's Brother and Sil.  They join us for coffee, and I sneak them some sugar but tell them not to tell.

Brother is going with Husband for potatoes.  He wants to try calling the girls again.  Sil wants me to take her for a walk and teach her the weeds.  Mom and Dad still aren't concerned about how long this is going to last for, but Sil knows we could be in it for the long haul.  She's extra uncomfortable not having any food storage here.  We're  discussing my storage when Nira and Diego come in.  Nira's surprised that Sil wants to forage and store whatever she can find.  I think having Sil in on the conversation helps Nira to see the light.  Sil keeps telling her how lucky we all are that I've been feeding my family weeds for years.  Most people don't know what to look for.

The boys get up, and the kids come in.  There are too many people in my house.  I leave #2 to organize breakfast, and show Nira how to cook again.  I go out to the garage to cut and wrap some beef.

Casper's only been hanging three days, but my mouth is watering.  The meat is so much thicker and heavier than Steaks' was.  It smells divine.  I split the hip and cut down one quarter.  I almost drop it.  He was a big boy.  Dorie sure did a fine job!

I start cutting the meat off the bone.  The rump is big enough for at least six roasts, eight if I really want to stretch it.  I cut the legs into stewing beef.  I look over the pile of meat.  By pre blackout prices, a roast should be worth a bit more than a bag of potatoes.  I decide to send them with 7 roasts and 2 packages of stewing meat.  I tuck the rest of the meat into the freezer.  I take the bones in the house.

The kids and the Littles are gone when I go in.  There are plates everywhere, and most still have bits of pancake on them.  It amazes me how wasteful city people are.  At least I don't have to worry about what to feed the dogs today.  Everyone else is finishing their pancakes.  The blueberry sauce is empty, and they've started a jar of elderberry.  #1 must have picked it.

I put the bones in a stock pot, then filter the water off the stove to fill it.  #1 gets me a couple of carrots and an onion from the basement.  I know this is breaking my own rules, but the stock will make several meals to come, not just today's.  I chop the carrots, then change my mind about the onion.  I go out and pick a few chives instead.  I spice it with rosemary, thyme, and garlic, and set it on the grill.  #2 hands me a plate of pancakes.  He and I sit down to eat.  I'm annoyed that he's still cooking, but Nat has finished her pancakes.

Husband, Brother and Diego go out to get Tori and the cart ready to go.  #1 finds and loads a couple of garden forks and several feed bags, in case they have to dig.  Husband hasn't thought of anything worth trading, other than food.  They load the meat I had wrapped.  The cart is almost full.  I send #2 out with a few jars of jams, a small bag of carrots and a blanket to cover it all.  He saddles Knightmare.  He'll ride alongside the cart.  I tell him to put the saddle bags on too, just in case.  The men get their guns.  There's only room for 2 on the seat, and one in the cart.  Someone will have to stay.

#2 says, "Let's ask southern neighbour for an extra horse."  That's not a bad idea.  I give Husband all of the paper cash I have saved, except $20 in small bills, just in case.  We say goodbye, and they head out, with #1 walking along.  If they can't borrow a horse, he'll walk back home.

They find the neighbours putting the last of their hay out.  They tell them their plan and ask to borrow an extra horse.  Sanya tells them they can keep one if they're willing to feed it.  She picks one of her favourites for #1.  She also decides to join them.  She rides one of her horses that's also broke to pull, just in case Tori can't handle the trip.  Roam saddles two horses, and leads a third from the barn.  He figures they can't feed it anyway, they might as well try to trade it for potatoes.

It's 42 kilometers to the next small town, so it's a pretty quiet ride for a while.  There are few houses alongside the highway, and most look abandoned.  The worst they encounter for a long time are cars abandoned on the road that they have to work their way around.  Most of them have smashed windows and have obviously been rummaged through, probably people looking for food.  They shoot a few partridge on the way. 

After about an hour later, they are hit with the stench of rot.  They can see the crows up ahead.  They expect to find roadkill, but as they approach a house on the side of the road, they see people have been shot.  There are three near the road and a fourth near the house.  They are about to stop when the door opens and a woman with a gun yells, "Keep moving!"  They wave and continue, guns cocked.

They reach Littletown after two hours.  People are out and about chatting, kids are running around playing.  Things look normal, until they arm themselves.  Several men walk out to the road.  They're wary, but calm.  They chat about the blackout, supplies, survival.  The people here have banded together, and most are doing fine.  Husband tells them our village is ok too.

Brother asks if the payphone is working.  It is.  He calls the girls.  There's still no answer.  They continue down the road.

It's almost another hour before they reach the next village.  It looks like a major city from days gone by.  This area is mostly a Hutterite community.  They're doing well.  The country store is still open, though it's lit by lanterns and has no feed.  Husband stops in and looks around.  He buys a small oil lamp for $7.  #1 spots my honey on a shelf.  Husband grabs two jars.  It's another $20, but he figures it's worth it.  The man at the counter tells him the apiary is part of the community, so the honey is always there for sale.  He also says they're still processing chickens down the road, if we have money, we can have meat.  We aren't worried about meat.

Diego looks over the woodstoves for sale.  These are serious wood cook stoves, with serious price tags.  He asks if they would consider trading for one, since our money is all locked up in the bank.  The man scratches his chin for awhile.  "It would have to be a big trade", he says, "like a couple of cows or horses".

Roam jumps in and tells him he has a horse with him that he was hoping to trade.  The man calls someone else out of the back to go and see the horse.  Outside they settle on a price, not in cash, but in goods.  Roam and Sanya discuss a variety of things they need, but the big question is how to get them home.  They tell the men about their other horses, and no hay.  The men ask where they are, and agree to trade horses for hay.  They'll deliver it and take the horses they want with them.  Sanya is happy her horses will be fed, and she won't lose them all.

They continue on their way to the potato man.  It's only another half hour up the road.  No one is around when they get there, and they see bullet holes in the sign.  The men call out to the house and fields but nobody answers.  Then Husband yells, "We have food to trade or money to buy!"  A curtain moves in the window and they can see the potato man peek out.  Husband pulls the blanket back, and lifts a package.  "Beef!", he yells.

The potato man and another man step outside with guns.  "The beef is probably rotten!"  He yells.  Husband tells him we slaughtered our cow just three days ago and wrapped the meat this morning.  He takes one package to them and opens it so they can smell it.  "That's not rotten.  That smells good!"

They start to discuss a trade, but the potato man has been robbed several times.  He has no fuel for his equipment, and most of his crop is still in the field.  He agrees to let them dig the potatoes themselves.  They decide that ten bags of potatoes are a fair trade for all of the beef, jams and carrots.  He tells them where to dig and welcomes them back any time.

It takes a couple of hours to dig and fill the ten bags of potatoes.  The cart is overloaded.  Tori is already sore and tired, so Sanya switches her horse on the cart.  #1 trades horses with her.  He's lighter, so it will be easier on Tori.  They cover the potatoes with the blanket and Diego sits on top of them for the ride home.  There's really no hiding what's under the blanket though.

When they reach the Hutterite village, Husband decides to go back to the store.  He asks the man about live chickens.  We lost all of ours to foxes this year.  The man from the back takes him to a farm in his buggy where Husband pays $20 for 4 hens and a rooster.  He doesn't have a cage though, so he cuts some air holes in a feed bag and hopes they make it home ok.

Back on the road they pass some people headed south.  One of them is bleeding.  They watch the cart of potatoes go by, but don't try anything with everyone holding guns.

In Littletown they are wary, not wanting their haul to be raided.  The men come to the road to chat again, and ask if the potato man is ok.  They've made several trips there themselves.  They chat about the Hutterite village.  A boy notices the chickens in the feed bag and gets upset.

"They shouldn't be in there like that!", he says.

"We don't have a cage.", Husband answers.  The boy runs off and comes back with an old laundry basket.  It's cracked in several places.  "Put them in here", he says.  They transfer the birds, and put the feed bag on top.  He gets some string so they can tie the feed bag over the top.  Husband thanks him profusely, telling him he was worried about the birds making it home.

They talk about the city to the south.  There haven't been any visitors from there, and the townsfolk think any who have left the city headed south.  Not many people head that way and return though either.  Most people come from the north, hungry and desperate.  They had to shoot at a group earlier in the day that tried to break into a house.  Husband tells them they probably passed them, and one was bleeding.

Brother decides to try the phone again.  There's still no answer at his house.  He tries calling a friend, and is surprised when he answers.  He is relieved a moment later, when he is talking to his daughters.  Friend went to their house.  He has an old truck that's still running, and wanted them to travel north to his cottage together.  Things are crazy in the cities.  He found the girls home alone.  They loaded up all of Sil's canned goods, sleeping bags, hand tools, and winter clothes for everyone.  They've been in Friend's village for days.  Friend wants to leave after dark and travel through the night.  He thinks he has enough fuel to make the trip to Huntsville.  This will put the girls several hours closer to us.  He gets the phone number for the cottage and tells them to take the rotary phone with them.

They leave Littletown and head for home.  The rest of the trip is uneventful, except for shooting a few more partridge.  They leave Sanya and Roam with one bag of potatoes and bring the rest home, along with the horse #1 had been riding.

We're all relieved when they're back at home.  It's been a long, worry filled day.  I am thrilled to see the chickens.  We will have eggs again!  I am not taking any chances with these- I put them in the basement for the night.

Brother tells Sil and the rest of us the news about the girls.  Mom and Dad are here too.  Dad thinks he can get our old diesel truck running, and he should have enough fuel to get to Huntsville and back.  He'll have to put his farm fuel tank in the box.  They decide to work on it in the morning.

The Bigs put the horses back in the pasture.  Everyone helps unload potatoes.  Nat is upset that all of the potatoes are going in my cold room.  I tell her until she digs a root cellar that's the only place that makes sense.

We clean the partridge and I slice them up.  I put them in the cooler tonight, we will feast tomorrow.

When everything is unloaded, Husband brings me the blanket.  It's much heavier than I expect.  He smiles as I unwrap it and discover the honey.  This is so much more than I was expecting.  I start to cry, cause, you know, sometimes I get girly like that.

This morning, after the men left, we women went on a weed walk.  Nira and Sil are both quite confident about which weeds are safe to eat.  Back at the house, Sil helped me roll out bread.  She wanted to learn how to make it, so we started another batch.  Then we rolled it into bread bowls.  We canned several jars of beef stock, and made a big pot of beef soup for supper, with a variety of weeds, a few potatoes, the carrots from the stock, and all the meat off the bones.

We light a fire outside and sit around it eating and talking for hours, listening to the men's tale of adventure.  The kids are all enthralled by the story telling, listening intently.  It's like a pirate story for them.  I think we better make time for 'school' for all of them.

We talk late into the night.  Sil and Nira ask about how to build a root cellar.  Mom and Dad tell them about root cellars they had when they were kids.  I suggest they start digging right through the floor of their camps, so it'll be accessible through the winter.

We talk about the woodstoves and doing a trade.  Two cows would leave us with only 1, the calf, and our bull.  That's too steep of a price.  Dad's pretty sure he can rig something together for Diego and Nira anyway.

We all go to bed well fed, calm and more content than we have been in a long time. 

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.