Where's the Water?

Early mornings are never my best, most alert moments, so when I flushed the toilet early last Friday I barely noticed that the water gurgled, rather than flushed. On to the kitchen and I poured my glass of water and filled the cat's water dish from the water purifier spout. I began making our breakfast and then turned on the regular water faucet. No water! One sigh and gasp from that taken-for-granted spigot, and then, nothing.

A water main must be broken but I carried on fixing morning nourishment since we had a five hour trip to Colorado and another five hours return facing us that day. My always resourceful husband hurried down to the river with two large buckets. He met another person who was like-minded and told Bob that the spring in town had a long line and so he came to the river for his water.

We returned home that night to running water. Was it only five years earlier when we were not dependent on the city or power companies for water or any utilities other than telephone? We have traded independence for convenience in our present life in the city. I remembered when a powerful spring snow storm took out the power lines in the country. We did not notice anything amiss. Our water came from our cistern rain water, our lights from our solar panels and our refrigeration and heat from the propane tank. Our radio announced that the power was out all over the county. It remained out for about two weeks. Generators were chugging along in homes during that time. We never did use our back-up generator. We had sufficient power from the energy of the sun behind the grey clouds and warmth from our cheerful wood stove in the basement.

It was a liberating feeling, living off of the grid. I wrote about it in my first book, "A (not so) Simple Life". The Alabaugh Fire took away that life for now. It is easier living in town with everything handy, but on days like Friday, when the water was silent, I remembered fondly our days when we returned to our rustic roots and were liberated, for a brief moment in our lives, from dependence on those major monopolies.

Bitter-Sweet Memories

2011 will soon be history. The ending of the old year is a time for looking back, while the new year is an opportunity for determining fresh beginnings. Hope, followed by action, can make for change.

During the week before the new year celebration, a great time for taking a memory tour,  I have been cleaning up holiday debris, reading the yearly seasonal letters, and looking through some photos that we had sent to a friend about ten years ago. He mailed them back to us because we lost ours during the Alabaugh Fire. They are happy reminders of our life "off of the grid" on our land along Cascade Road. Most of them are of our llamas and the construction of our fire-resistant house. One of the pictures shows our beautiful copper-colored metal shingles on our unfinished house. On the back of the photo Bob had written:

The Roof

2000 sq. ft.
3000 + shingles
12,000 nails
16 ridge caps
1 month
0 falls.

Reading that photo was a startling reminder of the amount of work, time and money that my husband had carefully and lovingly put into the completion or our unique home that was planned to see us through our retirement years. Photos have a way of  blending sweetness and sadness together, seeping into my heart. The shock of losing what has required so much effort can cause a lasting scar. It may heal slowly with time, but reminders have a way of sneaking losses back to the forefront for a while.

My thoughts were of those with PTSD. We usually think of our veterans who struggle with it, sometimes for a lifetime, but any who suffer a trauma, for whatever reason, can grapple with that pain. At times it can be constant and searing. My sorrows over past losses have usually been brief. At times I have sought help to work through what has vanished from my life. I try not to let myself wallow in my misery for any length of time. Losses will always be a part of my existence, probably more so the longer I live. I turn my focus on the many positives I have now;  my husband, family, friends, home, nature, music, writing, causes, and the wonders the new year of 2012 will bring to our world.

Perusing the past may bring warm feelings, but when the negative outweighs the positive, I change my thoughts to the present, with all my blessings, and now and then, I dwell on my hopes for the future.

Jiggety Jig, Jiggety Jog

Yes, home again, most likely for a long while. I had a warm hello from friends and family in the Twin Cities and said a fond farewell with promises to return for a longer span the next time. Since Minnesota was my home for the first sixty-five years of my life, it will always tweak strong tugs on my heart.

My presentation of life off and on the grid, including many a hello and a goodbye, was enthusiastically received by the large group of women at the Minneapolis AAUW (American Association of University Women). What fun to have such an eager and appreciative audience! It was an added bonus to have members from the audience stand up during the Q and A addition to remind me of memories I had lost in the mist of too many years.

My extraordinary husband did all of the driving, both ways, and patiently helped me with the book handling and other details. He did become distracted by many familiar faces so I was most grateful to have Jan, our hostess and friend from many years back, take care of the nitty gritty of signing and selling books while I was  greeting and meeting interested readers.

Now that we are safely home at our latest home of fourteen years, I hope to settle into life as usual, catch up with all of the catching up that awaits travelers when they return, and face the long winter ahead with the secure, cozy feelings that crept into my being from briefly touching on family and friends who all hold a special place in my heart.

On the Road Again

Our time back home in the beautiful Black Hills was all too brief. We barely unpacked from our three weeks in Europe, but we have a presentation to make to the AAUW in Minneapolis so we hit the road once again. Bob and I will discuss our life off of the grid, complete with pictures of our endeavor, and I will reflect on my life of hello and goodbyes which continue to shape who I am.

The Twin Cities was my home for over 40 years. I wrote a chapter about my years living there in my book, "A (not so) Simple Life." It was where I worked, played, raised a family, enjoyed the many theaters, varied restaurants, parks and numerous events. There are friends and relatives to visit and places to see, depending on the amount of time we have. I said a fond farewell in 1998, and renewed contacts only a few times since settling in the Hills. I am cautious about the ten hour drive, however, as my back is still out of sorts from our travels overseas. I only had a few days to cold pack it, visit the chiropractor, and work on some stretches to strengthen the aching muscles.

So we are off again, but this time to familiar places and people, which over time, will have all changed, for better or worse, but in my memory will always remain, as in a favorite book from my childhood, special, warm and comfortable.

Life Off the Grid for Bob and Me

After living on the grid in Minnesota for 65 years, we said goodbye to all electric appliances, Minnesota,  friends and relatives and said hello to life off of the grid in South Dakota. My husband, Bob Lee, prefers to leave a "small footprint" and chose a few small solar panels to collect the sun's energy and large southern exposure windows for passive energy. Because he chose the simple, inexpensive way of life, we rid ourselves of electric appliances and opted for propane and wood for heat and refrigeration. Our only "utility" was our telephone. Later Bob added wind power to supplement our needs during lengthy, sunless days in the winter. That gave us sufficient power to watch a movie on occasion and for me to use a computer for my writing.

We collected rain water off of our roof which ran from the gutters into our 1000 gallon cistern. Bob purified the water with an ultraviolet light and also a filter. During seven years of drought we never ran out of water for cooking, washing and drinking for us, our two cats or our seven llamas.

One of the most difficult things for both of us after the fire was living back on the grid with electricity, water, sewer and garbage utilities to pay each month. Bob grumbles each time he writes those checks. We do recycle and compost in town but it is necessary to pay the total bill to the city. We experience an easier life in town with more conveniences but we often long for the simpler life we said goodbye to on July of 2007.

For more information on our life off of the grid, see the chapter "Sun Power" in A (not so) Simple Life: Our Return to Rustic Roots or "Surrounded by Flames: Our Story" in Cascade of Flames.