Revolutionary behavior

We're experiencing hot weather here – no surprise, it's July – but in the mornings when it's cool, Don is hard at work building more garden beds.

Currently we have ten beds in place and ready to plant, though they'll stay dormant until later this summer or early fall when I'll transplant some of the strawberries I'm potting from runners, as well as plant garlic. By next spring, however, we'll be able to start growing a whole lot more. Little by little, we're moving toward self-sufficiency here in our new (to us) home.

But rather than talk about the garden or planting garlic or potting strawberries at the moment, let's take a look at a wider issue: the desire for independence. Ultimately that's why we like having a self-sufficient farm, because we like the feeling of providing for our needs with our own labor.

And this segues into a piece written by Daisy Luther on The Organic Prepper from July 4: "Independence Is Still a Revolutionary Act."

She talks about the need to become producers, not consumers. She discusses what happens when we depend on others for our food, water, utilities, education, medical care, and other necessities.

This can only be taken so far – I doubt we'll ever be "independent" when it comes to something like brain surgery – but we've tried (or are trying) to embrace many of our necessities and bring them under our control.

More importantly, we see the handwriting on the wall when it comes to a loss of true Rights (derived from God) and an enormously unconstitutional government doing everything in its power to eradicate the limitations outlined in the Constitution and trample the Bill of Rights.

"Somehow, this land of rugged individuals has become largely populated with scared children who expect to be cared for, fed, protected, and made to feel good about themselves, all by government mandate," Daisy writes. "Many people seem to have no desire whatsoever to earn their keep, provide for their families, or take responsibility for their own safety. They expect the workplace to be one of sunshine and lollipops, with ample time off, equal pay for all, and., don’t forget, yoga with baby goats and lots of kind words for everyone. Our culture is just so incredibly dependent. And to some extent, we, the rugged independents who are left, have let this happen because the dependents are louder than us."

It's not just that dependent people are louder, it's also easier to follow the path of least resistance. Let's face it, independence is hard work. Dependency is easy.

And then Daisy wrote something very interesting:

"The most important thing is to begin to recognize the chains that are on you so that you can begin, link by link, to break them. How do you break free of the life that nearly every single person around you lives? It’s simple, yet so complicated. Here it is, the ultimate act of revolution. It is so very simple. You have to need less. When you need less, you have less to fear."

This reminds me of an anecdote from the stoic Greek philosopher Diogenes (412-323 BC) I read in "The Little, Brown book of Anecdotes": "By assiduous flattery, the hedonistic philosopher Aristippus had won himself a comfortable sinecure at the court of Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse. One day, observing Diogenes preparing some lentils for a meager meal, Aristippus offered some worldly wisdom to his fellow sage: 'If you would only learn to compliment Dionysius, you wouldn't have to live on lentils.' Diogenes retorted, 'And if you would only learn to live on lentils, you wouldn't have to flatter Dionysius.'"

Thoreau said it more succinctly: "A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone."

So I see this whole issue of independence as a two-pronged approach: Learning to produce more, and living on less.

"Real liberty is up to you," Daisy writes. "Use it or lose it."

Apparently this is "revolutionary behavior." What do you think?

Fireworks for the Fourth

Yesterday evening, Don and I went to a private fireworks display in our local community. We were told about it the day before and we were assured it would be fine if we attended. Apparently the event was canceled last year on account of the unusual heat and dryness; but this year's rains made conditions much safer.

We didn't know anyone there, and since it was on private property, we felt somewhat like party crashers.  But there was a great deal of bonhomie at the gathering, with about 100 people of all ages ranging from babies to the elderly. It was everything you could ask for in a small-town Independence Day celebration: Kids running around squirting each other with squirt guns and lobbing water balloons (Don and I got splashed by a few of these), glow-stick necklaces and bracelets worn by children and adults alike, toddlers having their diapers changed in the back of cars, a few skinned knees. 

Here is a sampling of the fireworks:

While there was still daylight, several teams of adults tried their hand at a patriotic beanbag toss. The competition was spirited.

When it got too dark for beanbags and water balloons, the kids got to play with sparklers. Some preliminary ground fireworks were lit.

Then everyone was invited to pull up their chairs and enjoy the real show. And – wow. Just wow. These were Big Serious Fireworks, almost literally overhead. (If we attend this event next year, I'm bringing ear plugs!)

The beauty went on and on, with the display lasting at least 30 minutes and perhaps longer – an amazing thing for a private fireworks show.

Or, as one man put it with great if profane enthusiasm, "These are the best [bleepity-beep] fireworks in the county!"

Can't argue with him there.

Independence Day hike

Don and I celebrated Independence Day by taking a hike. Personally that seemed as fine an activity as any to honor the anniversary of our nation.

We left very early in the morning (trying to beat the heat) and found a trail some distance away across a river. It was hard to photograph Mr. Darcy, as he was in his Very Excited "let's go let's go let's go!" stage.

The river was beautiful. This is downstream:

And this is upstream:

I was in the lead, being pulled along with Great Enthusiasm by Mr. Darcy, who thought this hiking adventure was the world's greatest idea. That's why some of these photos are blurry.

This trail was very well maintained but surprisingly underused. We didn't see a soul for the entire time we were on it. But look at those stone steps!

For half a mile, we trudged uphill. At one point we stopped to rest at a switchback, and I noticed this tree covered with hanging moss(?).

In this moister environment, we saw lots of maidenhair ferns.

 Harebells were common.

The thimbleberry was already producing fruit.

This relative of the raspberry is perfectly edible, but the fruit is very very bland.

The elderberries were also fruiting, but nowhere near ripe.

Lots of heal-all along the trail.

We finally hauled ourselves to the top of the cliff, and were rewarded with gaspingly beautiful views.

We were on an absolute knife-edge of a saddle. These photos hardly do justice to the steepness of the mountains opposite a small stream canyon.

Mr. Darcy was definitely ready for a rest.

Showy daisies were everywhere.

This flower, growing at the higher elevation, is new to me. Any idea what it is? I thought at first it was kinnikinnick, but the leaves aren't leathery. Thoughts?

 My beloved oceanspray (common at our last home) was blooming.

We spent some time exploring the saddle and ogling the views.

Way, way below us we could see the creek which flowed through the valley.

You can see the patch of water shown above in just about the center of the photo below. (The wonders of a camera zoom.)

Here's the road we drove in on.

You can see the trail continuing, an easy trek along the contours of these otherwise steep hillsides. We walked along this for another three-quarters of a mile or so.

The long shadows show how early it was in the morning.

Here's the view of the road below us from further along the trail.

A tree gripping the rocks with all its might.

The day was starting to warm up (temps were slated to go into the mid-90s), so we decided to turn back. This is definitely a trail we want to explore more, when weather permits.

Before heading back to the car, we took Darcy down to the river's edge to let him cool down. Clearly this was his favorite part of the whole adventure.

Then he saw some Canada geese lounging on the shore, and took care of them in short order. Okay correction, this was clearly his favorite part of the whole adventure.

Back at the car, we looked up at the ridge we'd just climbed. Not too bad for a couple of old farts.

If this Independence Day hike did nothing else, it was a good reminder of how beautiful this nation truly is.

Close call

Day before yesterday, we had thunderheads building up. The rain skirted us, but we spent much of the late afternoon and early evening watching lightning hitting beyond the ridge to the north of us.

 

(No, this is not my photograph.)

But thunderstorms this time of year are a serious cause for concern, especially during the kind of heat wave we've been experiencing over the last two weeks. I wasn't altogether surprised to see helicopter activity the following day, toting a bag for dipping water out of lakes.

I got online and searched for Idaho wildfires, and saw there was a small and (thank God!) under control fire about ten miles to the north of us. Worth watching, but not an immediate threat.

Not ten minutes later, we got a phone call from an old and dear neighbor from our last home, asking if we were okay and how close was the fire? We told him what we knew, and that we were fine.

As it turns out, our old neighbor almost...wasn't.

It seems on Wednesday, a spark from a train that passes below his house caught the terrain on fire, and it came roaring uphill. What followed was a hellish chaos as neighbors evacuated and firefighters took control. The fire burned up 20 acres of timber – tall mature standing timber – on the parcel of land next to him, but by the grace of God the firefighters were able to stop the flames before they burned any buildings, so our neighbors' homes are intact.

Just like that, our old neighborhood was nearly obliterated. Three times in my life, we've nearly lost our home to wildfires. They terrify me.

This Independence Day weekend, lots of people will be doing lots of things with lots of fireworks. Please, I beg you, if you're in the dry west, be sensible. The heroic firefighters who saved our old neighborhood don't need or want any more work.

Meanwhile, our neighbor's harrowing experience put a flame under us (bad pun, sorry) to pull together the bug-out bags we disassembled during the chaotic months we were moving. We need to make sure we have copies of important documents, contact information for friends and family, pet accouterments, and supplies to get us through several days with a reasonable amount of dignity.

After all, we never know when a wildfire (or earthquake) could take it all away.