A night at the barn

I am a working man

But I ain't worked for a while

like some old tin can

from the bottom of the pile

-Big Sugar

The country alternative

We've found a few acres with some buildings not far from town that we've fallen in love with.  It's in a sense a homecoming for me; I grew up on a farm and remember playing around in the barn and other outbuildings. The adventure to be found in the country with a little imagination is a great thing for a kid to experience.

Unfortunately as we grow older the play must soon forfeit to responsibilty, and this past weekend was no exception.  The garage was in sore need of shingles.  A gracious neighbour offered planks and the use of his truck, and in one sunny Sunday afternoon Theresa and I had the old shingles removed.

The kids though found another use for the planks.

What a wonderful alternative to offer your children.

A choice of power

Frederick Buechner writes in "The Magnificent Defeat"

"I suppose we might begin by saying that man's absolute power, the one that he can be surest of because it involves nothing except power, is his power to destroy.  One does not need talent or brains to destroy.  Anybody can do it: can destroy an animal, a bird, an object, an enemy or friend, himself, Jesus Christ.  There is no need to add that as matters stand now man has the power even to destroy mankind.  However, that is only half the picture because in addition to his power to destroy, man also has the power to create.  We can make things: paintings and political systems, theological systems, supersonic aircraft, iron lungs." (p. 32 HarperCollins, 1966)

Those words came to mind as I was discussing with my sister, Edith, about inspirational carvings I could use on my sawbench that I was completing.

I ended up choosing two simple phrases, "to destroy" and "to create."

She suggested using traditional Hebrew, "shabar" and "bara'."

I loved it.

It's something I'd like to remember every time I sit down at this bench.

For my hands are capable of either.

The Gift of a (Jersey) Community

Moving into a new community is always an adventure in discovering new and exciting lifestyles and passions.  Dutch Harbor was all about the water; the fishing, the diving, and swimming at the local recreation center.  Cordova was its music.  Here it's... well we have yet to see.  But what's rural Manitoba if there's no cow around somewhere?

A few days ago we were gifted with two gallons of milk, straight from the source.  Wonderful, brimming glass gallon jars of fresh milk.  We skimmed the cream off the top yesterday and left it sitting on the kitchen table overnight.

This morning it went into the churn.  I remember this churn from my childhood, and we were able to track it down from my niece who graciously agreed to borrow it back to us.

Very quickly the cream changed from foam to solid.  I had butter!

Not too bad for today's breakfast.

And tomorrow it's buttermilk pancakes.

The cost of being cheap

There's an underlying irony of living cheaply in an affluent country that niggles me.  It's the bothersome truth that my frugal-ness is quite closely related to my neighbours extravagance.  If I didn't live in a country that regurgitates its products every six months there wouldn't be the abundance of second hand and recycled goods for me to select from.  Furnishing my home for under $500.00 with one weekend of perusing the local thrift stores would be a lot tougher if everyone was on the same mission.  In other words, my success in living cheaply is directly connected with compulsive shopaholics and their perceived obsolescence of their stuff.

But there is a deeper thread that's even more disturbing.  It's the concept of "subsidized goods" - the idea that my "good deal" comes on the backs of many other less fortunate people.  The elderly cashier that is working for minimum wage with few or no benefits.  The third world worker that is assembling some electronic product on an assembly line for pennies a day.  Or, as recently brought jarringly into focus, the migrant worker in Ontario working on a chicken farm and sending his meagre earnings back home to his family in Peru.

My $4.00 Second Hand Garden

Then my pathetic attempt to distance myself from the obsessive shopper seems profane against this stark reality of the horrific cost for my "new" extraneous gewgaw, no matter how "cheap" or "recycled" it may be.  Many, many people have contributed to the cycle of goods that churn their way through the queue of consumers in my world, no matter where on that chain I may be.  Just because I shop second hand doesn't mean I'm all that different from any other shopper in my neighbourhood.

And there's the rub.

Some benefit of living in a rich, affluent world with our prolific shopping habits should somehow trickle back into those cultures that indirectly support my cravings for stuff.  So what if I find a great second hand deal on a mahogany table and chairs.  Or a wonderful buy on Nintendo DS at a garage sale.  I am quite thrilled at the $100 bargain on the table or the $20 DS for my kid.  And for a moment I feel penny-wise and proud.

But then there is that indirect subsidy angle that needs to be addressed.

"Made in China"

So here's where I'm at.

Kiva, a non-profit organization that uses the internet to connect microfinance organizations with individuals, allows people like me to lend as little as $25.00 to struggling entrepreneurs  in all different parts of the world where life is a little more than simply going to work and shopping.  Most of these struggling business people are women seeking to earn enough money to feed their families and possibly, if there is any left over, send their kids to school.  My efforts to purchase carefully and cheaply, recycling and reusing someone else's refuse can now not only remove me from the consumer cycle of new products but can also provide a little chump change to assist someone that lives in a totally foreign world to mine.

Like Mushkiniso, a divorced mother that would like to buy some watermelon seeds for her farm.

Or Kalbubu, a 56 yr. old widow with a 7 acre farm in Kyrgyzstan that would like to add to her herd of five cows, two mares and one work horse.

Maybe it'll be enough to keep them off an assembly line.

And that makes my nights in my second hand bed just a little sweeter.

What you can't find at Walmart

Having lived for the last ten years in a 35 foot sailboat our stuff took some serious downsizing.  Now that we had moved back into a more conventional lifestyle, we needed to rethink furniture.

Where do we sleep?  Eat?  Sit?

Our first choice was to find used.  Recycled.  Maybe even free.

It helps when you can access Kijiji, and one weekend in Winnipeg filled a U-haul with a plethora of beds, dressers, a desk, kitchen table and chairs including two sitting chairs for the living room.

And we spent under $500.00.

Not too shabby for some craftmanship and style.

A journey is but one thousand steps

Having recently relocated my family from Alaska back to Canada's middle province of Manitoba the steps have at times seemed like one thousand.

The packing, loading and inventory for Canada Customs.

The last minute maintenance on the van.

And the driving.  Lots of driving.  On ice, snow, gravel, and sand.

But every day was a step.  And every step brought progress, and progress brought renewed strength and clarity.

Not unlike the rest of our life - our character, our integrity, our morality.

Our children used to train with a renowned sensai, Katsutaka Tenaka, in Anchorage.

One of his daily mantras he had the kids repeat was

“Watch your thoughts, for they become words.
Watch your words, for they become actions.
Watch your actions, for they become habits.
Watch your habits, for they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.”

Because every step is taking you somewhere.