Such an exciting season around the wee homestead! We’ve got mostly happy snaps and cute vids to share this post—growing piglets and bees and veggies—yippie!
I’ll save the unsavory stuff til the very end, that way those who must can just skip it. (Mighty generous of me, eh? 😆)
Let’s begin with a bumper crop of piglets, 11 of them, here trying to figure out the basics. This is just one day old, my aren’t they some quick learners!
Later we have a couple more from today, at one week old.
She’s been an excellent mama, Patty, this is her 2nd litter.
The garden is going strong already and this is definitely the earliest I’ve seen bumble bees out and about. March 15 is our average last frost date around here, for whatever that’s worth. Considering we’ve seen snow-covered Indian paintbrush before, we don’t put a lot of stock in that date.
If we don’t get a late frost this year it will be our earliest ever for summer planting. I’ve already got cucumbers in! The tomatoes are just about to go in and the peas are presenting perfectly.
Peas and fava beans planted together. If it gets too hot too quickly they will be a bust, but we do love when they succeed.
On left in the basket is celeriac, another fav of mine I try ever year, but like the fava beans and peas, it all depends on the temperatures if we’ll see a harvest. Next to them are tomatoes started under lights indoors and hardening now before planting in a day or two. I’ll plant some indeterminate varieties in about a month, hoping they’ll last longer through the heat. On right, the onions and garlic are looking great.
The old pears have already flowered over a week ago, here you can see Papa Chop napping while surely enjoying their sweet scent wafting on the breeze. Along with the bees!
On the right you can see me filling up the new hive with bees that over-wintered in the nuc where they positioned themselves last spring.
This was such a memorable experience last year that we managed to catch a bit of on vid—well worth the watch as the colony we just captured as a swarm moves from the hive I tried to put it in into the nuc I’d placed as a bait hive, moving themselves within just a few hours from one side of the garden to the other.
This was a swarm we caught and first tried to transfer to a different hive on the other side of the garden. The bees had a better idea.
This was the swarm last spring. It was just a small one and I guess they just didn’t feel quite ready yet for the big hive I tried to place them in.
Thank you ma’am, but we prefer it over here!
Well, this time they were a little more receptive to my preference and they are in their expanded home doing fine. 🤗
The piglets are so cute it’s hard not to take multiple vids watching them. I don’t edit yet, but maybe someday I’ll venture into more serious farmish filming.
And another ….
But, it’s not all peaches and rainbows for the piglets. Because you know, ‘male privilege’. Last year Hubby learned to castrate, which is an absolutely necessary skill if you’re serious about raising pigs. He did the deed, he’s gotten rather quick and good at it, so we made a couple of vids this time. Here’s the intro.
I’ll refrain from posting an example of the dirty deed though, which I could barely film! Yes, I admit one of my many bad qualities is squeamishness. But in my defense, I know many others way more squeamish than me!
If you really want to see it, you’ll have to send me an email. Don’t worry, I won’t judge. 😉
And in other bad news, yes, they still spray our beautiful days away. 😩
Still, it’s a beautiful life, and while we may complain, we know how to appreciate it all, too.
When all else fails, learn from Bubba.
“Oh, you only meant to dry the cushions here for freshening? Let me test that out for ya.” ~So Says Bubba
Thanks for stopping by, wishing y’all a glorious spring!
Shadow pointing out which wild cherry suckers I should try to grow into trees.
This post we’ve got some happy snaps, the usual weather bitching, a bit of pre-planning and some good news on two healing fronts.
(From bottom left: mini-mustard greens and new lettuce germinated inside about to be transplanted to replace all we’ve eaten; several types of onions and elephant garlic (which does best here, by far); and turnips for us and the pigs. 😋)
The cauliflower is long gone, the broccoli nearly so, but a new crop is already in the works inside on a heat mat. Succession planting has its limitations in our East Texas Yo-Yo Season (formally known as ‘winter’). Sometimes you get lucky with a warm stretch and get a nice surprise (yay, third times a charm, the carrot seeds finally germinated!) other times you get premature bolting (that dumb broccoli didn’t even produce a good head yet!).
Premature bolting 😖 But some nice butter lettuce still doing well by covering during cold swings
I do not appreciate it, and I think it stresses us all at some level, not just me, not just the more sensitive 4-legged and 2-legged, but all of life. Five warm days go by, in the 70s (but feeling hotter), with an unseasonal and hot stinking wind coming from the south, then suddenly, the very next day, it’s 40, lows in the 20s, and the dogs are shedding, also unseasonably.
Our ‘Arctic chicks’ — confused broody hens confusing weather whiplash for spring
Yes, we get the surprise arctic chicks on occasion. It’s nice to see a bee or two about. We get early daffodils. But we also get another lost fruit crop because it is sure to frost and now, again, everything is blooming far too early.
And it seems to me, the more folks are catching on, the more the establishment pushes back, with the gaslighting and the misdirection and the normalizing.
Going back to the 1800s! And how’s that working out for us?
Despite the man-made manipulation, or maybe because of it, I’ve come to appreciate the old adage ‘Let nature take its course’ on a whole new level. We’ve had two overlapping critter health issues these last months, both with their unique challenges.
Shadow’s blood-spurting ear was by far worse, but still, in every case, I don’t like not knowing what to do, stressing about my lack of knowledge, feeling useless, and that’s how I felt during Chestnut’s ordeal as well.
Please allow my whine for just another moment, it’s been illuminating for me, in a way.
Self-reliance is a cornerstone goal for us. Relying on vet care is not an option for a number of reasons, beginning with the cost, ending with the lack of trust we have for the medical establishment, and with a very long and convoluted journey in between where we try to figure out how to bridge this enormous gap, with no training.
We are lucky for the internet, but you know how that goes. One problem, a dozen conflicting pieces of advice. We ask around as well, we are certainly grateful the many suggestions offered, but still it’s nerve-racking making ill-informed decisions, and no matter what anyone might pretend, health is not an exact, one-size fits all kind of science.
Chestnut was acting strangely, very suddenly. She went from just fine to a few hours later she was lethargic and not eating much and separated herself from the herd.
My goat friend suggested Ivermectin and it seemed to work fine. Then she quickly developed an abscess on her side. Related? No clue. It looked terrible, but it was not bothering her at all. I read lots of advice, but decided to let nature take its course after reading one description that sounded most similar to what I was seeing. Though they recommended lancing it at the end stage to avoid ‘infection’. (In the above photo you can see the ‘before and after’, the photo on right taken yesterday, sorry for the blurriness.). It got very large and it was not easy to do nothing!
It’s been over a month now, and it is healing nicely. Patience was the correct remedy, not lancing. I think we have an addiction to unnecessary interference in our culture.
The ordeal with Shadow was a serious challenge. You might recall the middle of the story from our last Happenings post. It started all the way back in November with a little nick on the tip of his ear. The cat?
Who knows, but it was shockingly difficult to get the blood flow under control.
We had much advice, some of it new and excellent (thanks again Kath and Zoe!), but wow, did that take some patience and perseverance, which mostly landed on Hubby, as per usual. (Male privilege! 😂)
Three months later and it is completely healed and all’s well that ends well, thank heavens!
What exuberance, no one around here can keep up with him! He runs circles around us all, then sits patiently by Hubby’s side until the next round.
We LOVE potatoes, but they aren’t the easiest to grow here. This ‘barrel-layering’ technique has proven to be more successful.
We love potatoes so much we also buy them in bulk when they’re on sale and Hubby cans them up and they fry up in tallow so quick it’s like a delicious fast food that’s a cheaper and healthier alternative to the industrially processed varieties.
It is a long and labor-intensive project, that’s 45 pounds of potatoes there, it took him the best part of a day to do, but we’ll be appreciating the effort for 28 delicious meals. 😊
Looking ahead we’re doing a bit of planning—I’ll be giving another beginner’s fermentation course next month and Hubby’s got some good livestock trades in the works, we’re committed to foraging more for mushrooms and cultivating our own.
Patty, our mama-to-be, eating up the last acorns. Already many of her piglets claimed for bartering deals. 😁
Here’s a current little visit with our herd, including, hopefully many healthy, expectant mamas with kids growing fine.
Not that little guy, he’s our first buck, we call him Teaky.
5 expectant mamas among our St. Croix-Dorper flock
Incorporating more permaculture design in the garden and orchard is an on-going big goal. We have a couple spaces empty and I’d love to try something really unique like this:
Permaculture-Inspired image I’m dreaming about!
Where I’d be including my fun garden-art projects, like these:
Lots of grand plans in the works, always, but it’s the simple things that make the hard stuff worth while.
Some are shocked and appalled by this, as they should be, according to me. Others think it will be a fantastic improvement to human life, or a great way to make more fiat, or a solution to the burden on the caring professionals, or they love tech for tech’s sake, or whatever.
Those of us who love history and dwell constantly on the question ‘how has it come to this’ were well aware of this potential because we study the trajectory of modern life. I could begin with the first critics centuries ago, but for brevity sake, I’ll start instead with my own life, the only history available to me to know thoroughly enough.
Working mother, divorced parents, step parents, then step siblings, professional daycares, neighborhood babysitters, after school programs, junk food, convenience food, lots of TV. Family history of: diabetes, heart disease, obesity, cancer, vision problems, depression, eczema, alcoholism, Parkinson’s, and, you get the picture.
And I would not say my family life was bad. It was the typical American suburban life of a great many growing up in the 70s and 80s. Neither particularly good, nor bad, just normal. Normal, as in well-normalized.
Like most families my parents would joke about voting for the ‘lesser of two evils’. They probably learned that from their parents. My mom went to community college and got her degree once we were gone, in sociology. She worked full-time all her adult life and didn’t regret it. My dad remained ‘upwardly mobile’ as his Protestant father taught him to be.
In fact, we have retired before him, and he has just had his first heart attack.
They are both still with us, but they do not read this blog, so I could say whatever I wanted. 😏. But, that’s not the point of this particular post.
Let’s leave it at this—in hindsight, my unique perception of growing up this way is, in a nutshell—there was not a lot of parenting happening. The results of this having widespread and devastating effects.
It is from these original seeds of pseudocare that have been not only consistently irrigated in our own territories, but have been dispersed throughout the world these last five-plus decades which has ensured the trajectory to the ridiculous place where we now find ourselves: Drowning in pseudocare so deeply we can scarcely recognize what real care looks like anymore.
Another quick peak at the fruits those seeds have produced.
Yet even facing all of this, I’m still optimistic, as I have been all my life. Even at the worst of times, even during a few prolonged worst of times, I must’ve still learned something vital from my half-assed upbringing and collapsing culture.
So, here it is, in another nutshell:
Believe in yourself, believe it can change, but don’t practice in sidestepping the hard stuff. And the hardest of the hard stuff is care, real care—for yourself, for others, for the future—that is why we are here. How you go about that is your personal journey and your only real duty to discover and live. That is all there is to do in a life well-lived.
Which is why I want to once again quote an obvious example of someone doing exactly that, Gavin Mounsey, who is rocking the real care like a hurricane these days! Wait . . . What?? Ok, terrible simile aside . . .
I believe he knows what needs to happen next and is becoming the living manifestation of that in his own life first, and passing it around. Leading by example, it’s the only way. It’s the same cardinal rule as storytelling—Show, don’t tell.
“I want to give my energy to improving and increasing the resilience of my local community, not your hyper centralized one size fits all infrastructure.
“Freedom is not a consolatory prize that can be given to us to reward our obedience and capitulation to a system of violent coercion. It is not something that can be granted or provided to you by some government that wrote some thing on a piece of paper. Freedom is your birthright, and you either live it and embody it, or you allow yourself to be put in a mental cage by statists and other abusive institutions or individuals. My ancestors bloodlines are traced back to a people described in today’s terms as The Gaels. “Saoirse” is Irish Gaelic word for “Freedom”. Saoirse is an ancient concept that comes from the original Brehon laws of the Druidic (and eventually Celtic) world before the time of Christ. In the times when that word was created, my ancient ancestors lived without a centralized state, without prisons and without police.
“Saoirse means many things to different people. For some it means freedom to think, express and freedom to learn, for others it’s the freedom of imagination and the freedom of the spirit. And for some it also means freedom to set up parallel societies.
“This is one of the reasons that I included glimpses into two historical cultural cross sections of ancient cultures that existed without a centralized state and police/prison system in my essay as I feel that we can glean wisdom from stateless societies that existed for centuries to millennia in how to design more ethical, equitable, honest, Regenerative and practical ways to organize community, encourage amicable/respectful behaviour in humans and collaborate to leave this world a little bit more free and beautiful than it was when we got here after we are gone.
“With all that being said, I want to emphasize that I think that placing any culture, group of people or individual on some pedestal as pure is unhealthy. I feel we should be vigilant to make sure we are not romanticizing their past nor romanticizing the potential of their worldviews to provide solutions to the present challenges we face.
“The path to become connected to place with a reciprocal relationship, reverence and humility is the path to embrace indigeneity ourselves.
“It is a great starting point to create pockets of decentralized resistance to oligarchic / statist tyranny as growing your own medicine and veggies may appear harmless, but in a parasitic global plutocracy it represents a decisive action that severs the tentacles of tyranny in a critically important aspect of our lives (how we access food and medicine). Thus, it is a radical and revolutionary act that appears benign to the hubristic philanthropaths and demociders, serving as a sort of covert sedition in a world governed by parasites that want us dependent, gardening to grow or own food and medicine is like a hammer wrapped in velvet that knee caps big pharma’s plans to poison us slowly through dependence on their system for health care and also strikes the spine of the digital gulag system, breaking its back so it can no longer have any strength to influence our lives through controlling our access to food/medicine.
A better essay about the importance of self-reliance and health as the ideal antidote to modern societal tyranny I could not have written! And he has a YT channel. 😁
He was also kind enough to try to address our biggest garden nuisance within the scope of his permaculture lens. He offered many potential solutions, and bless his heart for the effort.
But I’ll just repeat my personal favorite: hot and spicy gopher wings. 🤪
What an example of authentic care—growing in the real and cyber worlds simultaneously—where even sassy meat-eaters and smart-asses and AI are welcome to stuff up their comments sections. Now that’s grace under fire!
Thanks to guys like these, in the coming decades I predict courageousfellowship will become the new sexy.
Our seasons change. I don’t just mean from north to south, east to west. There are the calendar seasons, and the four seasons, though some unfortunate folks only get two.
Then there are the seasons of life—childhood, adulthood, old age.
Here on the wee homestead we have our own seasons now, too. These, of course, are the most special of all seasons, to us.
Here we have just ended the killing season. Hallelujah! A very unique sort of season to most—vegetarians certainly—but also to most of the western world, who no longer process their own meat.
This is an extremely challenging season.
For Hubby!
He has full and sole responsibility for the slaughtering, the gutting, the skinning, the scalding, the hanging, the butchering, the grinding, the rendering, the canning, the smoking, the curing, the broth-making.
WOW!
For my part, I do the packaging. Plus a bit of pâté, a smattering of curing. Not exactly an equitable deal.
Mostly it’s DeliciousSeason for me! Our small space is full of meats of many flavors—bacon, ham, pâtés, sausage, lamb pastrami and various other cures, beautiful chops and ribs and roasts, the aroma of broths and meats that he pressure cans, filling up every corner of our little cottage and wafting out to season the surrounding vicinity.
Roderick and half of his harem. Notice the PVC pipe on Walnut? That was a temporary fix to keep her horns out of the fences, and it worked like a charm.
Cheese season has also just ended. Now my divas should be comfortably pregnant, their season also having shifted thanks to the services of our friendly neighborhood Billy (aka Roderick). That means our herd shall be greatly increased by early summer, gods willing. Roderick has since moved on to more fertile pastures in the next county.
While the Gouda-style and the Camembert-style are more difficult to make, the Mason Jar Marcelin and the herbed cheese balls aged in olive oil couldn’t be easier. A 3rd grader could do it! Don’t let the moldy surfaces fool you, beneath their scary exterior these cheeses are quite mild and very tasty.
That means it’s also a season for some difficult decisions. We are at our ideal capacity right now. We don’t want to grow. We don’t want to get ‘into business’. Such an odd thing to reject, considering where we’ve grown up. It gets in the blood—this mindset/worldview—now what, what’s next, what’s new. Get big or get out! Where’s the market? Don’t you want to open up shop? Sell to the public? Get all licensed up and grow, grow, grow?
Oh, hell, no!
What if, we don’t care about all that? What if we are in a season of life where we care about quality over quantity? Others can, and will, ‘get big’ and in some cases (a precious few) more power to ‘em.
But, I’m in my Delicious Season. I have an extra roll around my middle to prove it. (So do Hubby and all the dogs and pigs and even the sheep!)
Nope, my main concern at the moment is, how delicious can I get delicious to be? It sounds decadent, I know. But, maybe further refinement, compared to mass production, could be a really good thing?
Quantity over quality—whether in words, or food, or strip malls, or entertainment—has not worked out too well for this world seems to me.
There was a time, in my peak ambition years, I did strive for more instead of better—more travels, more experiences, more friends, more leisure, even more work. My season has shifted. I definitely strive for better over more these days. What if I could make the most delicious cheese ever made in all the world, and only 3 people ever tasted it?
Fine by me!
Of course, then how would I know if it’s the most delicious? Maybe that’s not so important either. Maybe it’s sufficient that what we produce and process and serve is delicious enough to make all the hard work worthwhile.
We’ll be spending some cold days relishing in our Delicious Season, because right around the corner another season is waiting.
Bubba and Buttercup LOVE when it gets really cold! When it’s under 20 degrees F they get to camp inside under the kitchen table. 🤗
“But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time.”
Some say It’s on Its last legs. The ‘coming collapse’ crowd is growing, that’s for sure. I’m pretty sure we can confirm we’re no longer fringe.
“There are mighty forces arrayed against us. They threaten our liberty, our livelihoods, our families, and even, possibly, our sanity. We may find ourselves, if we are awake at all, resentful or even angry at the situation we find ourselves in. We may want to ‘resist them’. But how? Our governments, except possibly at a local level, seem to largely be against us. The corporations, as they always have been, are against us. The media…ditto. The institutions of civil society? Largely captured. Our faith communities? Well, maybe some hope there, but all too often, the same deal. So, what are we to do?”
I don’t believe that, exactly. Our beloved Institutions have always been in service to Empire and I believe Empire is now in the process of refining itself, shedding its skin in order to reinvent itself. Empire is like the Ouroborus, eternal and regenerative.
These opinions may look opposing at first glance, but in fact they are complimentary.
I believe Empire is the rolling stone on which the Individual’s sword is sharpened. We will never be without It, we have never been without It.
That does not mean resistance to Empire is futile. But it is painful. From happy slave to disgruntled dissident is a long and lonely journey. It has to be.
Empire’s tactics evolve, forcing the Individuals’ along with It. Not in a David vs Goliath manner, but more like in a perpetuating Gordian Knot. We need each other too much, we are not who we are, one without the other.
For as long as Empire has existed, the Individual has fought to escape it.
He has fought so hard against It, that he has become It. The fight, or dance, however you choose to feel it, has become excruciatingly intimate over time.
At some moments in the cycle, perhaps all it takes are whips and chains to keep the system of Empire churning. In current times It is far more sophisticated. It wants willing and happy slaves, that’s what helps the Master slaves sleep better at night. Mental slavery, debt slavery, touchless torture.
We each must choose. The Individual must have free will.
It’s not that one is alone on the path away from Empire. There are a great many unhappy slaves. You will find them everywhere along your course, which has existed for as long as Empire.
“The classic example of ideological motivation is the ‘work ethic’; the idea, which has driven the workers of the West for the past few centuries, that we are morally obliged to work for the system for our entire lives so that, perhaps, one day, we will no longer have to work. A subtler modern example of ideological discipline might be ‘team spirit’ — the means by which loss of purpose, dignity, joy and freedom at work is compensated with group-bonding. “I didn’t agree with the purpose of the war; I was just looking out for my buddies—applies equally to the army platoon, the office department and the school class.” 33 Myths of the System by Darren Allen
We learn in the Empire’s schooling that the opposite of pleasure is pain. Furthermore, they teach us, that as a species we inherently seek to experience pleasure and to avoid pain.
And yet, sado-masochism is visible everywhere in our cultures. There are those who actively seek pain, and a great many who experience pain, and still go back to do it again, and again, willingly. Mothers and soldiers come to mind. Giving birth is rarely described as pleasurable. Soldiers rarely relish in their battle fatigue. Are we to believe they are all masochistic?
What’s missing here? Perhaps the opposite of pleasure is not pain exactly, but a specific kind of pain, the kind inherent in seeking virtue. Why do we not avoid this kind of pain as well, as a general rule?
The Individual’s path is painful because virtue is the opposite of pleasure, as Empire is opposite of the Individual.
That may sound like a notion of the Stoics, yet I’m definitely Dionysian by nature. It is not for the backache or the sweat or the frustration that I garden. It is for the fruits of my labor. It is for the care I’m able to show to the soul and soil and the hope that my efforts grow beyond my finite existence and wisdom. It is the pain of true ‘virtue seeking’.
I want them all, all my fruits, not out of selfishness, but to distribute at my preference and at my leisure and not according to the dictates or conveniences of Empire.
And yet, Empire is not my enemy. We may fight, or dance, but I do not wish Its collapse. Specifically, I wish It to continue to increase the virtue of the Individual. Even though I know that requires significant pain.
I have been amazed by the incredible virtue of some of those I’ve found along my Individual course.
The following comes from the latest post of one of these Virtuosos, Gavin Mounsey. I like Gavin not only for his beautiful photos and keen mind and wholesome work, there are many others who fit that bill. What I find most unique about him is, he doesn’t bypass the dirty work. That is rare in my experience. He stays focused on the good, on the light, on the solutions, but not at the expense of the hard truth. It’s a tough balance I know.
“Taking steps to embrace food sovereignty and a path that consciously nurtures symbiotic relationships are ways of living that are synonymous with a more happy, passionate and creative life. As our basic survival needs become fulfilled through our own “hands-on work” and skills, it frees up a lot more time to pursue the things we are truly passionate about in life. Embracing that self-sufficient lifestyle is so much more fulfilling than working ‘for the man” getting a pay check of digital fiat currency, trading it with 5 different middle men to get our food, water, energy and fulfill our transportation needs. It really does improve not only the quality of life, but the perception of what is meaningful in one’s life. It effects our very psychological foundations as we rediscover the simple joys in life. It helps us move away from the hyper-distracted, over-stimulated, digital chemical culture that has built up around us and allows us to let go of greed and materialism by truly coming to know the beauty of planting a seed in the soil, nurturing it to grow, and reaping what we sow.”
“Now is the time to reaffirm our alliances with the living Earth, to nurture new symbiotic relationships with the soil, people, plants and fungi in our local communities. Human empires rise and fall, and history teaches us that when they fall, it is those that know how to grow/forage for their own food, medicine and preserve it, that survived.”
“We can create oasises of health, resilience, and abundance in each of our communities… we can become the solution, break from dependence on centralized systems and help others to do the same. It begins with the soil and the seeds and it evolves into nurturing symbiotic connections with those whom we share our communities with. Each of us can embody the medicine that the land and our communities need too survive and thrive though the tough times ahead.
“Thus, each and everyone one of us should now be focusing our efforts on honing our skills related to food/medicine cultivation, preservation and developing a reciprocal relationship with the land where we live.”
“Saving up money for a ‘rainy day’ is not a solid way to prepare for emergencies because money has no innate value. Seeds, good soil, gardening skills, increased health/immunity, preserving experience and the symbiotic relationships and friendships we forge with neighbors and the broader community we are a part of (through sharing our abundant harvests and seeds and helping others to grow regenerative gardens) are however things that have innate value.”
There’s so much inspiration in his excellent article, many great reasons to start a garden, but also much information about all the rewards gardening reaps.
As the entitled, privileged, white western woman I identify as, I now have Hubby all to myself.
Now his best, his most creative, his most talented and productive self gets expressed here, at home, instead of off in some far away place for some unknown people.
“Every man looks at his wood pile with a kind of affection.” ~Henry David Thoreau
The benefit for me has been huge, off the charts. Most recently in the form of a beautiful Christmas gift. We’ve spent most Christmases of our 20 year marriage apart, usually with Hubby working offshore. This never felt like such a big deal to me considering we don’t have kids and we are neither religious nor consumer-oriented.
It was a pretty good deal actually, because he got bonus pay and we got to feel generous at the same time—offering the holidays to the Dads among his co-workers.
No matter how good of a sharer one is entrained to be, especially I guess as a selfish, entitled, privileged, white, western woman, giving the best years of life to ‘the system’ is not nearly as fulfilling as it might sound to some.
Like most modern Westerners we worked hard for many decades—we devoted years of education and training in order to fulfill our function in the economy and we played by the social rules and did some right investment things and we feel we’ve earned our relative liberty.
We’ve bought our freedom, so to speak. For as long as that lasts anyway.
We have earned our right to withdraw our energy, time and talent from an insane system earlier than scheduled. A ‘gift’ hard-earned and well-deserved, I’d say.
Many years ago I was told that “Americans live to work, while the French work to live” in an attempt to describe the comparable ‘work ethic’ of these two cultures. In general, I’d agree, at least back then. Certainly in past centuries Americans have prided themselves on their reputation of being hard workers, with high productivity, and all those industrious accolades that go along with that—like ingenuity and resourcefulness and determination. Now we desire to benefit from those hard-earned character traits.
Retirement is Redefining Fun
I preferred the French style of cultivating more joie de vivre and laissez-faire attitudes, but not just for the more obvious reasons of the pleasure and sensual rewards of the good life. I also saw how unhealthy it is to encompass so much of one’s raison d’etre —self-esteem and community connections and social structure and really most aspects of life —in with one’s professional occupation. But this is what the majority of us have been trained to do.
“Because work is an activity in which all initiative and energy is extorted from the individual in order to generate profit for someone else, and because it is unbearably unpleasant, futile and barren, ‘free’ time looms before labour as a garden paradise. Fake sickies are then engineered and labour-saving devices purchased to extend the Pastime Arcadia by a minute or two. But because access to wild nature and genuine culture is curtailed, weekenders are forced to buy their pleasure as they buy everything else, from huge corporations which, to turn a profit, appeal to the lowest common denominator of its demographic, thereby producing, in lieu of satisfying art, addictive titillation and anxiety. In other words, once we have freed ourselves from work, we then have to submit to a world made of work.” 33 Myths of the System: A Radical Guide to the World by Darren Allen (2021)
Leaving all the variables aside—like retirement wasn’t exactly intentional and was certainly untimely, yet irresistible, and as yet permanently untenable—the rewards still far outweigh the risks.
Retirement is Reprioritizing.
The old adage ‘time is money’ casts an evil word spell. In actuality, time is precious, as money is profane.
“The second new technology of control invented by the Greeks , was MONEY — an impersonal, indestructible abstraction which rendered people, objects and, eventually, the entire universe as a collection of homogeneous quantities, things which could be bought and sold. It was thanks to the attitude that money engendered that Greek philosophers began to view the entire universe as a composite of discrete, rationally-apprehended granules, or particles (a.k.a. ‘Atoms’), and ideas (or ‘platonic forms’), chief among them, the tragic atom—cut-off, isolated, alone — we call ‘man’.” (D. Allen)
When man is no longer ‘trading hours for a handful of dimes’ to borrow a Doors’ passage, fantastic things can occur. I’m not saying they will occur, only that the potential is created that they might. That is, a space where no space existed before, where money’s place in time is squarely upstaged by something infinitely more appealing.
Some folks plan multiple decades for retirement only to be overwhelmed by time’s infinity once they reach it. They succeeded in their dream. Right?
Whether they scrimped and saved or invested and won, still they cling to the ‘time is money’ fallacy and once retired spend much energy agonizing over their dwindling resources and increased hours to fill with distractions—some new fanaticism —be it sports or politics or shopping or so, so many other means for their entertainment, that is, their entrainment. Your money and your mind.
They’ve been so acclimated to the Earn-Spend Ferris wheel of existence that time shifts almost instantly from precious to perilous. The ‘never enough’ crowd, born and bred to earn and burn, to forever cast the pearls of their finite energy into the infinite abyss of acquisition.
Where to burn, once that ride threatens to end? Could a new retirement hobby ever be enough?
Or will it take a new lifestyle? A new way of being and perceiving in the world? Maybe even re-integrating the simple satisfaction of chopping wood and carrying water? After all, why pay a gym membership?
Or, as my beautiful Christmas gift suggests, maybe making furniture?
As best we could, with limited knowledge, skill, money, we set ourselves up to succeed at this moment, and against the odds. Will that be enough? There are no guarantees.
But, the meaning of ‘succeed’ has shifted with the territory. It’s our own meaning now. No masters above, no slaves below. It’s working at our leisure, at our pleasure, on projects and activities that reflect who we are, what we want out of life, how we envision a better future. It’s personal and imperfect and it’s the way we are trying to practice more than we preach.
Retirement is spontaneity. After having planned ahead.
Yes, it was a tornado that took down that cedar, and many other trees as well. Yes, our tools are still inadequate. No, we don’t have the money to ‘upgrade’. But the financial restraints require creativity and frugality, which we’ve cultured over the decades. And the self-reliance fosters self-confidence, which we’ve been diligently cultivating for decades as well.
If the best things in life are free, what to do with our freedom? Do we spend our precious time perfecting the dance of life, or perfecting our costumes? Do we spend our greatest efforts making it easier for ourselves to play, or for others to watch?
Perfection is the enemy of the good. In the world of corporate work, perfection is the goal. Perfection is the construct upon which all human effort is poised. Your regenerative human resource creates their sustained capital. Perfection in the eyes of the corporate beholder is maintained through mechanization, that is, mechanization of the resource, be he human or time, quotidian or universal.
Retirement is unstructured.
Our only intention now is to never go back. It is a soul-sucking system, not just a time-sucking one. I’d say that’s why so many don’t get out sooner, or whenever they have the chance—their souls have been too drained already.
Mechanization of the body or soul is equal under the laws of the system. But, unstructured time allows plenty of opportunity to de-mechanize.
What is one man capable of without the lifetime expectation of the system? Without the chaotic pressures of the market? With just a bit of time and skill and opportunity?
That’s what retirement should be, according to me. The freedom to be unpredictable and unperfectable. The freedom not to be adjusted or tampered with anymore in order to support a slippery system we unwittingly inherited.
“Most people do not know what to do with free time and when it appears they feel only an anxious need to consume corporate fun or, at best, cultural familiarity.” (D. Allen)
A great number of disjointed fragments came together to make this whole—including a tornado, a scamdemic, a hand-me-down gift of turquoise stones, a random forum post about ‘steampunk style’ and a lot of time, and desire, and a good bit of skill—none of which had anything to do with me directly.
I only breathed just a hint of enthusiasm at just the right time and voila—he has crafted a unique treasure that will forever recall the transformation of a painful memory recast into magnificently unique beauty, form and function.
The deeper fissures in the wood filled with lovely turquoise stones.
If it’s the only piece he ever creates, I am over-joyed! If it leads to a hobby that fills his desires, I am thrilled! If it leads even further, to actual work, like, for others, well, maybe, I’ll be forced to pull that Retirement is Selfish card again.
Wow, I’ve posted no update since the end of August (aka Late Swelter Season). Now here we are already well into Weather Whiplash Season, my how time flies!
This post we’ve got lots of happy snaps, the usual weather bitching, some cheese boasting, and long laments about our dear Shadow’s woes.
Notice the band-aid on his ear? Useless. But, apparently we needed to learn that the hard way.
Sometimes time flies, but when things get really bad, it crawls. Especially when it goes instantly from nothing much to Holy Shit!
And as bad as it is, in the big picture the weather whiplash is still way worse. So, best get that report out of the way first. No rain, in our rainy season. No real season at all, just a rainless rollercoaster, and not nearly as fun as that sounds.
Not natural clouds, folks! And soon the kids won’t be able to see any difference, though the atmosphere has significantly changed in the last two decades, as the weather has changed, as they lie about their climate scam, and charge ‘carbon taxes’ to ordinary folks to pay for their madness. Makes me SO FURIOUS!
I could be taking such photos on a regular basis, but it gets old. And then someone could comment on the ‘pretty’ sunset. 🤯. Argghhh, Noooo! Can’t someone please make it stop?!
No? Ok, moving on.
More bad news. We’ve had the most prolific acorn year since we’ve been here, that’s about 15 years. Sounds like good news, I know. It is good news, in many ways. The pigs are getting fat, the sheep and goats are gorging. Literally. And that’s the problem. One of the young twins gorged himself to death. It was terribly sad. His little stomach ballooned up as if his body couldn’t contain it anymore and he was suffering for hours.
I’d read baking soda could help, but it did not in this case. Perhaps it was too severe. I also read there’s a surgical procedure which would alleviate the pressure in his gut, but I don’t have the confidence to perform that myself and the vets around here don’t treat goats. I held the little guy for a long time, trying to keep him warm and help him feel better, but we lost him. Oh the perils of animal husbandry!
Another problem of the acorn bumper crop is much less severe. We live under a large oak tree and have a metal roof. It’s been rather windy lately and once those nuts start shaking loose, it’s kinda like the sky is falling. If our veteran neighbor with PTSD comes by I expect he’ll be darting for cover quick, because it sounds eerily like machine gunfire when they get popping off the roof.
The acorn perks include some plump pigs and happy goats, two of which I’m still milking, which is making for some very tasty cheeses.
Under the oaks: happy pigs, sheep and goats.Can you spot the perfectly camouflaged foraging pig?Happy goats make for delicious cheeses.
I’ve gotten so successful I’m confident enough to get very daring!
Chèvre wrapped in sassafras and fig leaves for aging.More aged chèvre—the top log is covered in dried goldenrod leaves and flowers, the bottom one is wrapped in honeybee comb.Our first pecan harvest—less than impressive, but still delishLactarius paradoxus mushrooms, homemade goat cheeses and first Japanese persimmon
Our fruits were nearly non-existent this summer, but we did just get our first ‘crop’ of persimmons, a whopping 5 of them! A couple of years ago I harvested lots of them from a neighbor’s tree and they were delicious; that was the first time we’d ever tried them.
Fuji persimmon
We planted both varieties, but the American variety takes much longer to start producing fruit and the fruits are generally smaller. These pictured above are Fuji, quite different, harder, larger, less sweet, not at all astringent, and also very tasty. The closest in taste I’d say would be a very ripe mango, the American varieties are especially super sweet, like jam.
If you’d like to learn more about this fancy fruit, here’s an enthusiastic lesson from James Prigione.
We’ve been getting a few mushrooms, but the lack of rain is certainly hindering our foraging experience. A friend brought us a huge chicken of the woods, our first time trying it and it was excellent.
Laetiporus sulphureus
The lactarius paradoxus are hard to spot and deceptively unattractive. In fact, they are exceptionally tasty and have a longer shelf-life, and of course a different season, than our favorite chanterelles.
Even while foraging mushrooms it seems the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. 🤔
In the garden we do have two nice full boxes of varied cool-season produce we protect from the frosts with row cover cloth. In addition to lettuces there’s some broccoli and cauliflower, spring onions, cilantro and parsley, radishes and Chinese cabbage. We’ve also got our garlic already shooting up and a couple rows of turnips started for the pigs come spring. Our neighbors are now buying eggs from us, so we throw in the surplus veggies when we can.
3 of 6 colonies survived our terrible summer. The hives are a bit hodge-podge at the moment while we do maintenance on them.
The honeybees are occasionally making an appearance, though since the frost there is little for them to forage. One of their last favorites is another one considered a ‘nuisance plant’ by the ‘experts’—it’s called tree groundsel and it’s pictured after the frost in the right photo above, in the background behind the boxes. Quite a lovely late-season plant, if you ask me.
And approaching it before the first frost sounded like the buzzing metropolis that it was! A last hoorah for the bees.
So we come back to the current day and our crazy Shadow drama. It all started with a tiny Band-Aid.
He’s got the ear-span of a small plane and we have the living room space of its cockpit. When he shakes his head he invariably hits some piece of wall or corner of furniture with his Dumbo ears and it’s actually pretty amazing it didn’t happen already: a tiny gash on the tip of one ear that he doubtlessly cannot even feel.
Forever happy and oblivious
We were racking our brains for several days, trying everything we could think of and just digging ourselves deeper. One tiny failed Band-aid led to bigger Band-aids led to bigger wraps led to taping menstrual pads to the poor creature!
Nothing was working. We also tried several over-the-counter products, like liquid Band-aid, blood-clotting powder, and some spray-on crap. Not only was nothing working, they all seemed to be making the problem worse.
We even tried to craft our own ‘No flap ear wrap’ made out of my doo-rags, which also didn’t work. So, we purchased a pricey one online which should be arriving any day now. Obviously, this is a universally common dog issue. A result of over-domestication no doubt, but that’s fodder for another post.
Then I start racking my pea brain in frantic desperation. How to stop the blood flow pronto?! Crimp his ears with clothes pins? Tie his ears up on top of his head with a scrunchy? Stitches? Soldering? How about just cut the whole ear off? Yes, we did briefly consider the vet. But we’ve been spending the many months since we got him trying to detox him from all the vet potions and it feels we are finally making some headway there. I kept imagining the new meds that would be required for this new issue and their invariable side-effects, which would start us off at square one with his detox.
Clearly I don’t think very well in high-stress situations. I was really trying hard and the bad ideas were piling on. The blood, which had gone from a tiny occasional drop, to a full-on drip, to a steady stream, and from then within a few hours a sprayer-hose in every direction with every shake of his head. And that boy loves to shake his head.
Between the blood splatter and the acorn fire it feels we could be living in a battlefield training zone.
Yup, the crazy, bloody mess had arrived and is still visible all over our living room, deck, porch, siding. We covered all the furniture and even the walls with old towels and sheets. Hubby started following him around everywhere, with a giant towel extended between his outstretched arms each time he sensed a head shake was about to turn into a sprayer-hose of the sticky, red, splatter paint across the windows, the screens, the ceilings even. (Where are those magical elves when you need a deep house cleaning?)
We needed a miracle, and fast!
And thank the heavens, I got that miracle in one brief email. Thank you UK herbalists, Kath and Zoe, miracle workers! It should’ve occurred to me sooner. Me, especially, considering I did start the Herbal Explorations pages earlier this year and have been getting educated on herbal remedies. It honestly did not occur to me that herbs could solve this acute issue. I didn’t think anything would be fast or effective enough, especially when every other thing we were trying had failed and even worsened the problem.
Zoe suggested powdered myrrh as her preferred method in order to stop the blood flow, but we didn’t have that on hand. I ordered some online, but in the meantime chose among her other options, yarrow, and we have plenty on hand because I like it in Kombucha. I made a strong tea with it, as well as grounding some up into a powder and that whole concoction I held on his ear a few times with a cloth, some of that powder getting into the wound and sticking there, and the blood flow finally stopped. Holy Heavens! As of this writing we are still in good form and have our reserve remedies soon arriving in the mail.
What I clearly need now is an official Herbal First-Aid course. Herbs are not just for gentle healing and routine health, I see, they can be used in emergencies, too.
Why did I not think about it sooner?! It seems like such a no-brained to me now, that I’ve started to consider other potentials that didn’t occur to me at the time—like the old Russian folk remedy bees podmore—which I just happen to have been saving for a rainy day for 3 years now.
Quite an expensive lesson, but a welcome one nonetheless. 😊
Thank you from Hubby’s ‘White Elephant’! 😆
A huge thanks and deep bow to Kath and Zoe, from all of us on the wee homestead! 🙏 🤗
I know it must be autumn somewhere! Here that reality is still mostly in my dreams. We’re still in the 90s and still mostly dry. There are a few tiny signs of change though, that I’m magnifying in my mind, because I can hardly wait! It’s been a terrible summer.
See, right there, 3 red leaves on my favorite Sassafras tree! (Very soon to be featured in an ‘Herbal Explorations’ post)
But, I’m not going to complain about that now. Instead we’ve got lots of happy snaps, and even a few scary ones.
We’re gearing up for the fall/winter garden, getting the beds ready for the transplants that have been growing under lights for a month and are very ready for their new outdoor home, just as soon as the temperature drops a bit.
Hang in there brassicas, it’s almost time!
We just started harvesting sweet potatoes from the boxes waiting for replanting.
Those vines helped keep the goats happy and healthy during the extra long heat wave.
Summer keeping a sharp eye on Shadow even though there’s a fence between them. None of the goats have warmed up to him, despite all his best efforts!
The peppers have come back with gusto after another dose of compost dressing and removing their shade cloth.
Jalapeños and banana peppers and the now monstrous cranberry hibiscus on right that is finally just starting to bloom.
Cucumbers again, yippie! Plus hurricane lilies, turmeric, zinnia and basil keeping the bees happy. And lots of bindweed (morning glory)—scourge to the industrial farmer—a hardy, lovely and welcome cover for the rest of us.
I’m getting about 1/2 gallon of milk a day from 2 goats and making cheese often—mozzarella and soft chèvre every week and a hard cheese whenever I can accumulate at least 3 gallons (preferably 6) in the freezer. The larger the hard cheese the easier it is to age properly and goat milk works just fine for cheese after freezing.
The easiest cheese to make and so delish!
But I’m really looking forward to making Camembert and Munster again. Just like all things natural, cheeses also have seasons. I was very disappointed by a so-called Brie I just splurged on from the grocery store. They should call it a processed Brie-like imitation and market it in the aisle with Velveeta. Quel scandale!
A few more friendly faces . . .
As I mentioned last update, we had a sausage-fest this summer, that is, a super-high percentage of males born, of all species—cats, pigs, sheep, chickens, goats. So odd.
Now we have 3 young male cats, a new thing for us. But one of them is a real scaredy cat, we’re never able to get close to him and he’s rarely around except for meal time.
Always crouching in the shadows and darting off even from the camera.
Also odd but true—our black cat, Mittens, hangs out with our black Shadow and our blond Tony hangs out with our blond Bubba and Buttercup—go figure!
“Hey in there! Where’s our breakfast?!”
I love spiders, especially these beauties, but some folks find them scary, apparently.
Now here’s a real foe . . . .
Gross! Looks like right out of a horror movie. And he has a lot of friends haunting our compost heap. 🤢
But who loves ‘em but our very scary Halloween rooster . . .
Poor guy, we’ve no idea what happened to him, but he is one scary-looking dude!
Soon we will be making the tough but necessary fall homestead decision—who will get bred and who will shuffle off to freezer camp?
But not a care in the world for these contented creatures!
Hope you’re having a fine Sunday and thanks for stopping by!
A quick reprieve from ruminating about technology for some recent happy snaps. I’ll try to not do too much complaining about the weather. But I know how hard that’s going to be so, here’s a deal, for every complaint I will offer one bonus. 😁
Dortmund climbing rose makes a surprise appearance
The extreme heat, and drought, is not normal, so I really wish folks would stop saying it is.
Bonus! It’s reassuring how remarkably resilient some plants and animals are.
Hibiscus for tea, to be blooming soon With plenty of irrigation and shade cloth the re-seeded cucumbers are coming in, lots of okra, eggplant, peppers. And sweet potato vines, which the goats especially love.
One green melon from one surviving plant, I think I’ll name those saved seeds the Miracle Melon.
Not much harvesting happening, but at least something. A few figs and grapes, some herbs and elderberries for flavoring kombucha.
Bonus! We can fully appreciate how precious water is to all of us.
Pretty obvious where the sprinkler spray stops
Man changing the climate? Perhaps.
Man changing the weather? Definitely. Do they care how toxic and dangerous that is? Seems like no.
Bonus! We can observe different species peaceful tolerance of the other under times of stress, as well as which critters are more heat tolerant. The honeybees only appearance in the garden at the moment is at this water trough where I feed some tadpoles. But, bumblebees are going crazy on the salvia, wonderful!
It’s so hellishly hot by 10 am we can’t stand to be outside anymore.
Bonus! We can feel like heroes as we try to keep the critters as comfortable as possible.
This cool-looking wasp followed me inside, maybe hoping to keep cool? It’s been living happily on this ‘longevity spinach’ (gynura procumbens) for nearly a week. I didn’t realize they could live so long alone, indoors and with no nectar. The wasps must eat something on the leaves, there’s loads of wasps on the okra leaves too.
Here we come to save the day! Bubba in his tub and Buttercup in her sand hole.
The final bonus of bonuses! I can tackle all kinds of indoor projects I’ve been neglecting, like organizing the closets, washing the windows and floors, attending to the neglected pile of sewing . . .
The only true bonus of that list is that I find it so objectionable I’ll instead be reaching for another novel I’ve been meaning to read. 😆
I’m critical of high-tech solutions and when I hear them in tandem with big claims of sustainability, especially at a global level, I automatically bristle.
Still, the first time someone called me a Luddite, I balked.
I know there are plenty of us—vocal advocates and quiet dissenters alike—bemoaning so much of the tech being shoved down our throats, most certainly when it comes to food. I’ve been vocally ‘anti-GMO’ and ‘anti-geoengineering’ and ‘anti-vaxx’ and ‘anti-surveillance’ which in their linguistic game really just amounts to PRO-nature.
Yet it is becoming more common, even among the homesteading ‘community’ and ‘off-griders’ to consider these two powerful forces as intrinsically intertwined. As if sustainability cannot be achieved without modern tech, forgetting we somehow made it all the way up to the industrial era with relatively little of it.
We often hear of technology being a Trojan Horse. But, that’s an understated analogy, considering in that story it was a “gift”—insinuating it was one that could’ve been rejected. There is no rejecting a good portion of this tech flooding into our lives today. You will not escape the digital prison, at least not completely. Those 5G towers are screaming their frequencies over your head day and night whether you like it or not. The weather modification is a thing, whether I like it or not. (NOT!)
We also hear of technology being as any other tool—to be used for good or ill. Yet, is that a fair assessment when these tools are largely invisible? And when they are overwhelmingly in the hands of very few, and when fewer still would be able to replicate them in any capacity?
What am I missing? Where is the healthy balance? To explore these questions over the next few posts, I’m bringing in considerable help.
A young ‘homestead influencer’ I’ve heard about for years is about to release a new book and her attitude about the tech sounds pretty healthy. In the book she explores the question, “What are we leaving behind in our race toward progress?”
Like most of us, she has zero intention of recreating a ‘Little House on the Prairie’ lifestyle. She has managed to incorporate the tech into her life on her terms. So far, it seems.
Many of us certainly feel as the diaspora—dispersed between cultures—natural and digital.
I can’t help but wonder, is losing our soil connected to losing our soul?
I have a cousin in Colorado with a farm I’d call pretty high-tech. He’s a permaculture/biodynamics guy and has been very successful and has the perfect background to enlighten me, I’m sure.
He worked all over the world before his current venture, which has recently gone on the market after 20 years of development and WOW, talk about a success story! To increase the value of a property by such an extraordinary measure is truly remarkable. And that’s only part of his success story.
He too seems to have managed the tech, rather than the tech managing him.
I was quite moved by his 2015 speech:
“I remember! These qualities of life giving wholeness that our ancestors knew deep in their bones have been drawn off, separated, reduced, modified, pasteurized, homogenized, radiated – their vitality degraded, their life giving forces mutilated beyond what our cells might recognize. We now consume what are at best facsimiles of food, laboratory concoctions, genetically mastered ingredients – simulacra that do not build our cellular health but create work for our bodies, that weaken our fortitude and break our spirits. These laboratory wonders parade in full color down our grocery store isles. -all screaming for our purchasing dollars. More money is spent on the campaigns intended to seduce us than on the so-called food inside. These products are combinations of ingredients that we can not pronounce, masquerading as food and covered up with contemporary Eco-socially correct overly-designed, brightly bannered sales pitches in suspect containers claiming to bring us momentary bliss – all hawking only slight variations of amber waves of commodities meant for one thing and one thing only – to efficiently generate profit for a few, and from the most devastating chain of ecological rape and pillage the world has ever experienced – all leaving an accumulated insurmountable debt to future generations.”
Excerpt from a speech given by Brook LeVan at the 12th Annual Sustainable Settings Harvest Festival on September 20th, 2015:
“In the modern world, progress and innovation are often celebrated as unambiguously positive. New technologies, ideas, and ways of living are readily embraced with the assumption that they must be better than what came before. While it is true that certain advancements have brought undeniable benefits, such as improved hygiene, faster means of travel, effective medical treatments, and enhanced communication, it is crucial to critically examine the broader implications of modern progress. Often, the rapid pace of change leaves little room for reflection on whether newer solutions are truly superior to time-tested practices. As society becomes more complex and interconnected, the allure of novel and convenient solutions can overshadow the wisdom of the ancestors. Practices that have served humanity for generations may be disregarded in favour of modern alternatives that promise quick results and ease. For example, the trend toward processed foods and sedentary lifestyles has led to health problems that were less prevalent in societies that followed more traditional dietary and physical activity patterns. Likewise, the reliance on fiat money and speculative investment has created economic instability compared to more sound financial practices.”
Sound financial practices? What will the future kids know of that when even homesteaders are encouraging others to go deep into debt to finance their ‘off-grid’ dream property as if that’s magically sustainable? We used to call that debt-slavery.
Curtis Stone is a popular YT homesteader, and I’m not really meaning to diss him here, because it’s quite possible if I were a young man in my prime I wouldn’t be having such reservations as I do.
Risky behavior is common in youth, yet do we not expect a mature individual, as a mature culture, to become less risk-tolerant with time?
Debt has alway been encouraged for farmers when all the fancy new equipment becomes de rigueur—and a great many lost their farms that way during the Great Depression.
I’m not the gambling type myself, yet I see the technological sphere permeated with these types. From my vantage point, they appear to be addicts.
As if The Tech is not sketchy enough to me, there’s also the obvious fact of The Money, because you can’t have one without the other. That’s where the rabbit hole starts to go very deep.
(17:53) Gambling on people’s lives. That’s where the tech is headed. Not a ‘Black Mirror’ episode. Reality. Our debt-creation machine riding squarely on the backs of every cyber-unit, that is, every man, woman, and child, every living thing, all resources all around the world. Internet of Things, Internet of Bodies.
Alison McDowell of WrenchintheGears has been doing deep dives on this topic for many years, her work is hefty and dense, expertly sourced, and crucial in this discussion.
All this data. All the electricity required to run all this tech. All the power to be had, when all that power is in the hands of so very few.
So, I suppose I am a bit of a Luddite. I’ll be exploring this reality in the next few posts, I hope you’ll join me by adding your thoughts about the topic in the comments.
