Sunday Stroke Survival: Making Plans for 2019

Is it too early to be planning my 2019 to do list? It's almost October.

All this waiting for a Baclofen pump was a waste of time. I saw the neuro- physiatrist this week. I'm not an optimum candidate for the pump. So the pump is a big NO GO. He did suggest having my contracted Achilles tendon lengthened instead. Less invasive and a better outcome is predicted. He said surgery followed by therapy would strengthen and straighten the leg. It would eventually get me out of my AFO since I had the ability to dorsey flex and evert the foot prior to the cessation of Botox.

They'll set up the appointment for me, but it means more waiting. In the beginning, I'll have to do Botox again for the spasticity, but I should recover the use of my leg and foot with time and intensive therapy. I need to build the atrophied muscles up again before that can happen. So nothing new on that front except I'm facing a surgery I did not expect. I'm just over it all.

If the recovery takes as long to heal as when I ruptured my Achilles tendon on my functioning side, it'll be a year. I was in an air boot for 53 weeks prior to and after the last time. I've tried walking with the air boot instead of my AFO and it doesn't work, but I'll leave that for them to figure out.

But can you really blame me? I was so excited and now, I want this done so I can move forward. I want to be out of pain. I want to be able to move again. So in the meantime, I'm making plans for the coming year. Actually, I'm making adjustments to my five-year plan for the homestead. I've adjusted this original plan so many times, I should just write up a new one.

According to the original plan, we should be 75% self sufficient going into our third year since I  moved here.  Hahaha! Yeah, right. In reality by my calculations, we're closer to 25%. Does anything go according to plans? It's more like the diagram. It's never a straight line. If it was my living post stroke would be hugely different than what I've been experiencing now.  One month post stroke, I had recovered my

speech, at least to make myself understood. I rarely spoke gibberish unless I was over tired. I was regaining full range of motion of my shoulder and arm. I could even move my thumb and index finger however slightly. My leg was strengthening to the point I was investigating a Walk-Aid to get out of my AFO.

If determination was the deciding factor, I was headed for a full recovery. Sure, I'd have some limitations from my stroke, but I'd have one of the lucky few that recovered after my ischemic stroke escalated into a hemorrhagic stroke who recovered almost all within the golden six months. But that's not my story. I wish it were. I'm on the squiggly  line path to recovery.

Now, I'm more patient than I was six years ago. So my strokes did accomplish something other than be a bane of my existence. Living post stroke is more fun than a barrel of monkeys...not! I used to love that game. I think I managed to link was 10 or 11, but kept trying for 12.  Living post stroke is similarly a nonstop challenge as neurons in the brain play leap frog around damaged areas to restore some sort of function. You may recover 11 (or less) out of 12 or rarely get a 12 out of 12. Nobody can predict the outcome.

My grandmother for instance, survived stroke after stroke. Seven in total over a 20-year period of time. After her first one at 76 years young, the only impairment noticeable was the AFO and cane she used.  She was even well on her way to getting rid of her cane and AFO when she had the second one. Her arm was a little bit weaker, but she still gave fabulous hugs. Each progressive stroke took away more and more ( not without a fight) until she was bedridden, blind, and speechless at the time of her death at 95.

I come from strong stock. So in spite of major surgeries in the coming months plus recovery time, I'm making homestead plans for what we want to accomplish in 2019. I'm also not kidding myself about the time to recover from the Rhizotomy. The doctor said a year of intensive therapy will only get me most of the way back to the way I was before my spasticity reached the higher levels of immobility. I'm figuring 2-3 years. I'm old and tend to heal slower. Was it really only two and a half years ago that I was wiping counters and tables with my affected arm? It seems so much longer than that, but that's life dealing with excruciating pain. When I count 6 out of 10 on a pain scale as having a good day.

Cara @ 8 weeks old

Onward to homesteading plans...
The homestead plan for 2019 includes the angora rabbitry growth. With the addition of Lil Albert (buck) and Cara (doe), we now again have a diversified gene pool to start our pedigreed, English angoras program. I'm still looking for a fawn colored doe to be purchased in 2019 also. That will give us a firm gene pool to breed with for the optimum outcome (babies) that are well mannered (grooming), excellent woolers, and the right temperament. They will also be show quality which will command a premium price point for litters. At one point, I considered keeping 15 angoras in house. I'm settling on 10.

These are high maintenance animals. With seven now, it's almost the limit of our time. Each rabbit needs socialization at least twice a day for a minimum of fifteen minutes each. They need their free play time in the rabbitry which needs to be supervised daily. Does and bucks separately for obvious reasons.  Who wants to be stuck in a cage their whole life? Especially when they have a 12x28 rabbitry to binky and scamper in, and fresh greens planted for their munching pleasure. They are groomed twice a week. It could be a simple blow out to remove humidity from their coat and a slicker brush through for tangles (15-30 minutes each)or the works (shearing, toenails, ears, eyes, etc- 3 hrs with breaks). During our one on one time, we are checking for runny noses and eyes, their droppings and urine, ear mites, fleas, and injuries.

Any troubling signs, the bunny is whisked into quarantine (smaller cage in the back porch) for closer monitoring. Mel and/or I will be with them except for a few hours each day until they are dead or recovered. So you can see why fewer rabbits is a necessity rather than the vision of 15 in house rabbits.

We will be building and stocking a separate grow out area for meat chickens. The plan is to do lots of ten birds two or three times a year. That way we don't overload the freezers, canners, pantry, and me with a dizzying amount of work at one time. Butchering two birds a day is my physical limit. The birds only need to grow for 12-13 weeks old. Killing, butchering and processing ten birds over two weeks is easily accomplished goal. So a small grow out pen will work. I may just build it myself. Why should Mel have all the fun working with power tools?

Growing our own poultry has become an imperative with all the avian viruses, hormones, antibiotics, and salmonella found in commercially raised chickens in the market today. This wasn't so important to us before Zaycon filed for bankruptcy and closed their doors. Sad to say, it's a sign of the times we live in now where family owned businesses are closing after decades of doing business. In the grocery stores, organic meats are readily available, but they are cost prohibited. Growing our own is the cheapest alternative.

We'll be planting more fruit trees and bushes/vines in the orchard in 2019. We have started fruit tree seeds and are in small pots although these won't go into the orchard until they are much bigger in 2020.  The current vegetable patch is complete. It should give use many years of produce with minimal effort. The orchard area has one more year of heavy labor.

But in 2019, we will be clearing and terracing another 1/4 of an acre. Three quarters will be designated for grain/hay/straw growth(lower tiers). The remaining cleared area will be set aside for future tiny house placements (upper tier). We figure to to start with and another one or two for the future. At least one of them, mine, will be set on a foundation rather than wheels to make access easier. It's 8x12. The only change I would make is switch the full sized bed
for a twin. It would give me more floor space. Drawer under the bed would give me ample storage and I'd be able to put my lift chair between my bed and the kitchen counter and a small desk/dining table off the bathroom side. At 102 sq ft of living space, it's all I could want or need. If I bought it on a trailer, it could be pulled by my van. This particular model has solar panels on the roof making off the grid capable. There's no room to fall. LOL Only mine will be my total expense plus things like the water, electrical and septic tie ins if needed.

By opting to build this on  a foundation, makes it easily accessible, All it would take is a paver stone patio and concrete to slope it. Speaking of paver stones, that's another project for 2018-2019. I brought from my old place a concrete mold for a walkway. The old 20x24 deck and stairs original to Mel buying the homestead is in hazardous shape. The boards are rotting and splitting. It was never sealed after it was built. We are dismantling it. In it's place we'll be building a 4' deck by the doorway and new stairs leading down to a new 20'x24' patio area. I'm thinking of embedding small river rock into the top surface for texture and color.

We do a lot of cooking and stuff three seasons a year outdoors. It will take a bunch of bags of concrete to achieve this but it will be worth it. We can do as little as one bag at a time or ten there's no hurry making the patio. Nor is replacing the landing deck and stairs, we've got the decks and ramps on the other side that was built this year for outside access to the porch. Dismantling the old deck is a priority. This will be the do until the snow flies project at the end of this year. I don't think the wood can be reused, but we'll see.

We'll be building another pallet staging area for firewood storage (for 1/2 a cord of wood at one end of the patio. This will be handy for the grill, smoker, fire pit, and the wood stove. This is a get to it when we can project for 2019-20.

I also want to set up the goat pen area beside the barn/workshop. Or, at least map it out and laying in supplies. But it's definitely a 2020 project. As you can see, plans are being made for 2019. Whether they are completed or not remains to be seen.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Back in Business Again

Okay, I'll admit my blog has been a living post stroke downer of late, but today that changes back to the old me. <the cheering section goes wild>

After almost a week of being off my feet, I was itching to be back at it again. Yes, of course, I took it slow. Sort of. Well what can I say? Y'all know me.  <Grinning>


It's ragweed season in northern Georgia. My allergies just love ragweed. Yes, I called my PCP and got all my meds refilled. But more than that, it's Goldenrod season! To most folks, Goldenrod are a pretty yellow flower that grows like weeds in pastures and along road sides. Actually they are weeds, but to me they spell M-O-N-E-Y. Money you say? Yes, it's like money in the bank to me because this innocuous weed is my source for a natural yellow dye for wool and it's free.

I went out with my half bushel baskets and filled it up one just driving to the main road. That's only what I could reach safely. Well all right, I did fall once. But, I got right back up and continued picking. I continued my harvesting along the main road gathering another two half bushel baskets. I did stop by the cattle farm less than a quarter mile away and asked to go into his hay pasture to gather some. Yes, I was careful not to squash his hay or fall again. I just went around the edges where his tractor went and I gathered pounds of the flowers. He even allowed me to take my van and drive around as I gathered the flowers which was extremely nice of him. In the old days, pre-strokes, I could have walked around his field with no problem. Now especially with a healing decubitus ulcer on my foot, not so much.

You might ask where I found my half bushel baskets. Well, it's part of my homesteading mentality of reuse/ repurpose everything. Over the past couple years, I'd bought a bushel and a half of peaches. I'd also bought sweet potatoes, and assorted other vegetables in bulk. I always saved these items and stored them in the barn. I've got large stacks of them. I always asked the farmer if they wanted them back because I know they had to purchase them. If they didn't, I kept them. I reuse them to harvest herbs and assorted other items from our garden. They are pretty well made. Not as good as a grape vine or wicker basket, but considering they were free to me why not reuse it until it falls apart? It's not hard to find reuses for almost everything, if you think about it.

Anyhow, I gathered my three half bushel baskets full and headed home with my prize. Normally when space was limited, I'd gather them up by the stems, tie them off, and hang them up to dry. This time, I couldn't be bothered. My foot was also throbbing like mad. I left them in the baskets to dry. Every couple of days, I'll flip them over in the baskets. They are drying nicely. Within a couple of weeks they'll be ready to use anytime I want to dye wool. Now, wouldn't you call that money in the bank too?

I also got my order from Zaycon Fresh. A 40 lb box of boneless, skinless chicken thighs. I'd already planned to can this shipment. After living in hurricane country for as many years as I did, I learned the importance of not having all your meat products in the freezer. Heat and eat becomes the norm when dealing with days of power outages. Even up here, we lost power with tropical storm Irma and power outages in winter. I decided I wanted to par cook them on the charcoal grill. Ooh, yummy for the tummy! Being my one functioning handed self, it was a two day process. The first day was spent grilling off and rough chopping all that meat into 2" pieces. The second was packing the chicken into jars and pressure canning it. But now, I've got pre seasoned chicken, canned in its own juices, and ready for whatever I want to make with it. Chicken and dumplings, over simply heated and put over rice or noodles, and oh the chicken salad it can make...just to name a few options. One jar of two full canner loads, 40 jars, didn't seal so it's ear marked for chicken salad this week. The broth will season a pan of risotto. But after messing with all that chicken, it's chili for supper tonight.

So as you can see, I'm back to normal. Or at least, my living post stroke normal.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Traveling this Weekend, But...

After the fiasco of the past few weeks, we are finally moving forward in building our homestead. We've been two women with only a functional left hand. Mel sprained her wrist and was in a split. She's getting a small taste of what I go through each day living post stroke.

For our YouTube audience, it's been a long absence from any new video productions. When we ain't doing nothing, there's no sense in videoing it. Sure I've been canning, but it's not something they can't see or learning on fifty other sites. As far as cooking videos, I haven't made anything worthy of videoing because I've been canning. The rain has kept us indoors as much as possible. So no building, animal updates, or gardening stuff. Still we have to get back into video making mode again.

The hardest part of building these new structures is digging the holes for the 4x4 posts. Each structure has 12 of them. It takes Mel a week with the post hole digger to do twelve. We cut the 8' posts in half so the 4' are anchored two feet into the ground for added stability. These will allow the pallets to be screwed into them. We don't want the predators gaining access. We'll be stapling chicken wire to the outsides of the pallets also to hold the little ones in. This will allow the rabbits to run around the large enclosure while we groom them. 24'x10' is plenty of room for them to scamper and binky to their heart's content. We'll also be seeding an area, not enclosed by the tarp, with rabbit yummies like Timothy, orchard, rye grasses, and clover for them to "free range" in. Straw will be under the cages. We decided to reuse the smaller cages we built for the bucks. They just don't need as much room. The new larger 24x36x24 cages will be for the does. Building this five-plex (15 feet long) was an adventure and a half. We put in the drop down nest boxes and a shelf that a momma rabbit can hop on to for getting away from the babies. Yes, they are the Taj Mahal for the does. We are reusing the old hutches as grow out cages and quail cages.

We are now entering the second stage of our rabbitry. The breeding/ pedigree part of raising Angoras. This last year has been spent getting to know our rabbits and get them on a grooming schedule. I still need to get another buck to replace Keiran who died last month and another doe for meat rabbits.The quail are our next expansion animal into homesteading. We spend a year with each animal before getting the next. The next big jumps are to goats and then Guinea hogs.

As for me this weekend, I have been summoned home. I've honestly not been home since Thanksgiving. The reason is simple bad weather and my health. I have a triple A (Aortic Abdominal Aneurysm) growing. My cardiologist is concerned but it isn't big enough to warrant surgery. That doesn't mean it won't blow, but it's unlikely. Knowing quite a bit about these things, I've felt like I have a time bomb in my belly and been afraid to go anywhere especially not 6 hours on the interstate. My dad called me. He and his wife are celebrating their Silver Wedding Anniversary. I honestly think it has been longer. I haven't added it up, but he says it's their silver, but he has Alzheimer's too. It's actually their 28th. I broke out my calculator. I'm just happy he remember she's his wife. He often forgets and searches for my mother.

Another new area for our expansion is a grain trial where the old rabbit hutches are and bush hogging the orchard. Whether we plant the orchard this year or not all depends on timing. We still have the driveway and house to fix when I return to the homestead. That was my main focus for this year especially after being stuck up to my axle in mud and snow this Spring and winter. New pipes from the well to the house has to be installed. The fool that built the original system used a flexible hose and only buried it about 6" underground. We had numerous breaks and water freezing before it gets to the house. It has to be fixed properly. I'll gladly pay someone else to dig the trenches and lay the pipe. It's too big of a headache for me and Mel to do it. I want it done right.

With the new rabbitry and chicken hoop shelters going up, it's time for the electricians to come in and do their stuff. Wow, we can even have air conditioning in the main part of the house this summer! Not that I minded doing without last year. It's not like South Georgia up here. The humidity isn't as great or the temperatures as high. You'd think that Mel being from Orlando would be used to the heat, but she's spoiled and loves her air conditioning. We are so different in our heat and cold tolerances. Hers is a very narrow range about low 80s and she's comfortable. I'll be the first one in shorts and a tank top while she's still in the long sleeves. My comfort range is between 69 degrees to 85 degrees. I'll be in t-shirts until the temperature drops into the low 50s.

Well that's about it. Remember,

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Retrying Old Things

Download your copy here

A little known fact about me is that I'm a multi published author. Even on this stroke writing blog. It's been so long since I've put up a snippet, story, or new book.  Before my strokes took away my ability to read and write, I was writing a survivalist series of books, in part about urban homesteading. The first book in the series was self published, as were the rest of the planned series. Well, I had a personal SHTF situation quite literally with my strokes and my husband's care being shifted over to hospice.  It has been a long, slow  recovery process for me. In fact I'm still in it. I've fought tooth and nail, clawing my way back to get to this point.

I've been asked by several of our YouTube subscribers to write a cookbook. I am presently going through my database of recipes, some of which we've videoed on our channel to compile it with fresh pictures. It is slow going, plus I'm typing one handed. My brain just doesn't work as well as it once did.  I haven't done much writing except for blogs in five years, but it's been good practice. Since cookbooks are basically lists, I almost feel almost confident enough to handle this type of writing now. I dunno how long that will take. I've never written a cookbook before. In the downloadable ebooks, I'll put links to the videos that correspond to the recipes. At least those uploaded prior to the publishing date. The rest may appear at a later date with no links, of course. You just have to search our channel under the "Cookin'" playlist. Today, there are 22 recipes there already and growing, but not in written form. (Hm, an asterisk on the page that YouTube deleted one or more videos. I'll have to figure out which ones and why.) Ya gotta love technology. Anyhow, there will be a web address listed in the paperback version.

How long is the cookbook? How many recipes? I dunno. I haven't thought that far ahead. Heck, this may be several books. I just haven't figured out the divisions yet. I've got thousands of them in my head, on my computer, and written on cards and pieces of paper in my stash from decades of cooking professionally and at home. When can you get a copy? I dunno that either. I've got to figure our the answers to the previous questions first. There are a lot of angles in publishing especially self publishing. What my angle? Why should someone buy the book when the video is free? Of course, there will be some recipes I won't tape too. The videos are a bonus added feature.

Then there is the housekeeping side of self publishing too like the cover art, any other art, the dividers, the divisions, who am I gearing sales for (marketing plan). Included in the marketing plan is public appearances, pre-sales, and book signings which means the pre-purchasing of paperbacks to sign. It also involves care of the homestead while away doing these events. A whole lot of juggling and planning and I'm not the master juggler anymore. I'm I really able to do this again? Do I really want to? We honestly need the cash injection to keep operating. If neither of us are working off the homestead.  Our feed and seed bill alone is $100 a month during late fall and winter, and we're small time right now. We can't grow in self sufficiency and/or profitability without it. Every little bit helps.

Who knows, I may start writing the above mentioned series again with more of a homesteading focus. At least, I'm going to try even if it takes a couple of years to write one. You got to understand. In my previous life BS, before strokes, I was writing, editing, and publishing four to ten books a year between nonfiction and fiction. Taking a couple of years to write one book is a harsh reality check for me. But these days, I'm living post stroke and trying to get on with my life.

Order it here

For Mel, she's on that newbie stage of writing of eat, sleep, dream writing fiction after her do training book hit the market. She's even has characters talking to her. She probably wouldn't eat if I didn't put a hot plate of food in front of her and make her stop writing once a day. I remember those days well. I sort of envy her. If we were both in that mental phase of writing, we'd starve to death. (grinning) All's I gotta say to her is spring is coming and enjoy it while it lasts.

As always...

Nothing is impossible.

I'm an early riser. I awake before the chickens by at least an hour or two. I spend my first thirty minutes, before my feet hit the floor, in prayer. It's an uplifting way to start my day on the right foot. Or should I say left foot because my right foot is still partially paralyzed and spastic. My cat, Little Bit, demands some one on one time. Then I'll don my socks, leg brace, pants, and shoes in preparation of actually getting up. I'll grab a sweatshirt from the drawer because I know the night fire in the wood stove has gone out. In the predawn darkness, I'll make my way into the dining room after a pit stop to the bathroom. And so begins every morning.

Once halfway in the dining room I'll ask, "Where's my puppy?" Herbie will sleepily come to me for his first morning head rub. I'll walk into the kitchen and fill the electric kettle with water, and then make myself a cup of Earl Grey tea. Some people make coffee, but that acrid liquid hits my stomach and comes right back up. Nobody likes to start the day that way. I'll take my cuppa tea to my desktop to read my emails and watch some YouTube to see what the homesteaders I follow and touch bases with them. I usually will start writing this blog and my other one. (this takes me many hours to complete) I may or may not put on my sweater because the inside thermometer on my desk is registering the temp this morning at 64 inside while outside is a blustering 42. Warm enough for my sweatshirt and keep the chill at bay.

I'll clean the wood stove and empty the ashes from the overnight burn into the outside pile. Since we only use hard woods in our stove, they'll be great for the garden later. They are still some hot embers in this right now so shoveling this into the compost pile is not a good idea. I'll put the pan back under the wood stove and set up the fire for later. Mel will want it warmer in the house when she wakes up. But it will a couple of hours before that happens. I'll be fine with all the morning activities. Besides, I have enough body fat to keep two people warm and insulated.

Can you smell it?

Every Wednesday and Saturday is baking day. I'll bake the bread we need on the homestead, convert a loaf of bread into french toast, make Mel's crepes (what she calls pancakes), cinnamon rolls, or crumpets. At least get the crumpets, rolls, or/and bread mixed and rising. The excess will go into the freezer for later in the week. I may also make hamburger and hot dog buns depending on the week's menu.

Of course, making bread on our homestead takes some preplanning. Two days before, I'll soak the whole wheat kernels overnight. The following day, I'll rinse it and spread it out on a baking sheet to dry by the wood stove. The next day, it will be ground into flour for whatever I'm baking. It will take about three passes through our manual grain mill to get it as fine as I like it. Yeah, I know I can go to the store and buy my flour, but have you seen what's in that?! Is it GMO? Is it organic? What kind of pesticide or insect droppings or particles may be in it? YUCK!

Devon in his healthier days

Next comes the feeding the inside animals. Assorted dogs, get fed half their daily rations per weight. We feed them twice a day. The cats normally have free choice of their dry cat kibble throughout the day except for Devon Angel. This male gets two tablespoons of wet cat food twice to three times a day. He is Mel's special needs cat and is mentally retarded. The reason for feeding him wet rations is simple. All his teeth have rotted in his mouth. He can't chew the dry cat food. He tries but he lost so much weight over the summer, we thought we would lose him. He was literally skin over bones before I started him on wet food with goat's milk supplements. After three months feeding him this way, we can no longer feel his ribs and hip bones under his skin. He's back to his semi healthy state enough to play in the fallen leaves.

After the dogs have eaten and I make sure the other cats haven't nudged Devon away from his food, it's time to take care of the outside animals. First stop is the chicken pen. Not that the chickens are in there. They hear me coming down the covered porch steps and greet me from under the porch. Once the sun rises, they fly out of the coop and run area. They follow me back into their pen for their snack. I usually have leftover bread, leftovers, or stale crackers handy. I'll scatter these and their pellets rations around their run area for them. We do have a chicken feeder, but this week has rained too much to use it. I'm not complaining mind you. We still haven't tarped around the coop or finished the roof yet. So I really blame the chickens for not staying their coop.

Next come the rabbits. Since we have J feeders in the rabbitry, I only have to fill them every couple of days. I'll go into the rabbitry to pet and talk to each one of them every morning. Mel is charge of their watering them. The idea of taking all those water bottles down to fill and them, and hanging them back up is a nightmare. I do the morning feeding and check up, and she does the evening. We split the chores evenly.  The outside rabbits are last. I'll repeat the process all over again.

I'll gather the eggs. Since we are in winter mode and it's early morning, there's only about two or three eggs. They easily slip into my pocket. Now, I've gone almost full circle around the outside of the house. Luckily my balance is good enough that I can do this without my cane. I climb up onto the front porch, pick up a couple of pieces of firewood and place them on the small table outside the front door. It's all I can carry with one fully functioning arm. I'll repeat this procedure until I have six or eight pieces stacked on the table. I'll go inside carrying two pieces. I'll drop them next to the wood stove. Then I'll take the eggs out of my pocket and put them in the refrigerator. I'll light off the wood stove, fill the canner pot with water, fill the pet water dish, and bring in the other wood I stacked on the table. By this time, the wood stove is ready to be loaded with more wood. Within half an hour the house is a toasty 76 degrees.

I'll set up Mel's morning tea things. She loves Yorkshire tea with cream and sugar. I'll pour myself another cuppa tea and make myself some oatmeal. Then I'll go back outside and stack about ten pieces of firewood by the door for the next time. Between 9 and 10 Mel will wake up. Her tea will be steeping and she can sit in front of her laptop and wake up. I've already been up for 4 to 5 hours by this time. I'll fix her breakfast and put the bread in the oven. I'll plan what cooking videos I want to film. Hmm, this week I've got to do the promised dog treat/training biscuits and my caramel apple gingerbread cake. Oh, and there's the sugar free hot cocoa mix. Tis the season and all that.

Some time soon, we've got to do a "Tea Time" video. We haven't done one since October. Time flies when you are running around like a chicken with your head cut off preparing for freezes. A list of my prospective video topics will take take us into February next year doing my segments once a week, and then it will be planting season again. Or, at least seed starting season. Our first hard freeze of the year was this Friday. The high was 32 degrees not counting the cold, arctic wind that came with it. It's been quite a few years since I've endured temperatures that low for more than a day or two. That's just winter here. Still not as bad as the winters I lived through in New York, Nebraska, Michigan, or other places up way north of the Mason-Dixon line.


Mel told me to hay the outside rabbits preparing for the freezing. Being the smart butt that I am, I went to each cage waving like a crazy person and yelled "Hey!" to them. Once she came around and saw me with a quizzical look on her face, I stopped and put the required hay in their cages. My Buddy immediately started eating it as did most of the bunnies. I had to repeat the process several times to ensure they'd have enough to burrow in to keep warm. For the really hard freezes we tack up tarps to block the wind.

So how has your week been? Y'all have a blessed week and remember...

Nothing is impossible

Sunday Stroke Survival: So Life Goes On

The Cockeyed Homestead YouTube channel, blog, website, Pinterest, and FaceBook sites are a success which is all fine and good, but I've done very little towards helping fellow stroke survivors since I've moved to the north Georgia foothills. This makes me feel quite unhappy.

When something makes you unhappy what do you do about it? Do you sit and suffer in silence? Do you complain about it to anyone that will listen? Do you find something to substitute filling the point of unhappiness? Or do you find a way to fix it?

I guess you know my answer by now if you've read this blog in the past. I'm going to take the bull by the horn and fix it. My astrological sign, can't you guess, is Taurus. No truer match, if there ever was one, if you believe in that sort of thing?

According to cafeastrology.com...

The Taurus Woman

This sign can attack, but only if provoked by one too many a red flag. She has a hot and fiery temper, and will unleash it when pushed to the limits; however Taurus women are generally sweet-natured, with a liking for pretty little objects of affection. A personal serenade or some exotic orchids would do the trick nicely.  

Taureans are also persistent, sometimes determinedly so, obstinate in the face of adversity, and stubborn to the point of utter exasperation. This ability to hang on through tough times and bad, as well as her emotional strength, make Taurean women a force to be reckoned with.

Hm, that describes me to a literal "T." Get it? "T" for Taurus. Oh, never mind. It's just my Abby Normal mind working overtime again. When you consider my steadfast faith, I rarely fail unless I want to. Remember true failure is when you quit trying. I rarely knuckle under to whatever life throws at me and I'll bring others along for the ride. I've always told those around me I'm the nicest person they'll ever meet, or the biggest l3itch in town and it always depends on them. I honestly hate the words "I can't" unless there is a very strong reason, but then I'll fight until proven wrong. Just look at what I've accomplished after my stroke. This actually accounts for my attitude in life. Truly, that which doesn't kills me makes me stronger. Yes, that's biblical too.

But as usual I digress. So what has been my major malfunction with helping stroke survivors here face to face like I did in the lower part of the state. I've spent the past couple of weeks soul searching to pin point the answer.
I hear you all now...

 Give yourself some slack. It's been less than six months. 
 Nope not my style. I ain't dead yet. 

Quit being so hard on yourself.
If I'm not who will be. I'm lazy and need to be prodded lest I forget my goals. I ain't dead yet.

You've totally changed your living arrangements and even residence.
Yeah, but except for the last twenty years or so, I did this every 18-24 months so in other words... nothing new about this. There may be more moves in the future. I ain't dead yet.

Your husband just died.
Yes, a year ago. It's time to get back to living with the living. I ain't dead yet.

You're disabled from your strokes.
Yes, but I still have a lot I want to do. I ain't dead yet.

You're in transition still.
Uh, isn't almost six months time enough to settle in? I ain't dead yet.

You're older now.
Oh believe me, I get slapped in the face with that reality every single day, don't you? But, I ain't dead yet.

I look at all of the italicized words as excuses. Yes, it may also be the truth if I'm willing to accept it. You may have noticed a common phrase at the end of each response...I ain't dead yet. Many times souls are crushed because they aren't dead yet especially faced with catastrophic losses like half your body not functioning like it had been due to a stroke or the loss of a significant other. But when there's breath still in your body...you ain't dead yet so get up and do something about your situation.


Remember, I grab issues by the horn and tackle them. After a period of time, excuses are an escape and a crutch that hinders forward progress.  It can be a killer of forward progress if left unchecked so I always check. It's the only way to stay healthy both mentally and physically.

So now, I'm tackling this question of why I haven't been in contact with anyone locally about stroke survival. Sure, I've met some survivors out and about, but I haven't called the stroke survivor's support group, nor contacted any of the hospitals about visitation, nor even pastoral care.

Here's what I found...
1) Is it fear? On some levels. It's the kind of fear you have when you stand up in front of a bunch of strangers to give a speech. But I conquered that fear. I'm reminding myself.
2) I've had too many irons in the fire.
Not an excuse but a reality.
a) I've been splitting my time between the Golden Isles and here, trying to get this homestead up and running and dealing with issues at the other. With a six-hour commute between places.
b) The initial set up of an organic system in gardening is time consuming the first year. The last time I had totally do this from basically scratch (besides expansions) was twenty years ago. The conversion to an accessible garden was a transition on an infrastructure already in place.
c)There is also the long term and short term planning goals for the homestead. The exact layout is constantly changing and evolving. Planning only takes you so far, but once in the situation and living it, tweaks have to be made.
d) Gaining all new doctors, therapist, and medically related providers- getting them up to speed, and weekly/monthly appointments takes time.
e) At this point, I'm running two households with each having obligations, at the same time.
3) I'm slower in adjusting than I expected. Part due to my advancing age and my strokes.
4) This one kills me to admit...laziness. Because of all these factors in my life going on, I find I'm spending way too much time in front of this computer just wasting time. Granted, everyone needs down time, but I'm wasting too much time doing nothing constructive at all. Yeah, I could use all kinds of excuses to counter this, but I'm soul searching and honestly looking for answers.

Okay, I've spent two weeks in self evaluation, found the reasons for why this isn't being done, so now what. A time for action and change is called for. This is no different than anything else in life. Isn't this the process for everything that surrounds us when we are faced with a problem?

1 and 2 a &e) The Golden Isles house will be done and on the market in two months. So the long commute and time spent there will only be for family stuff. Yahoo! This will be a huge relief of mental stress, time and money constraints. I can finally see the end of a long dark tunnel with this. Every house in my neighborhood has had an offer and sold within three weeks of being listed so I'm crossing my fingers that this will happen again. With the influx of needed capital, major purchases should be less of a burden. Plus running one household is a whole lot less stress.

2 d) (I'll come back to the rest of #2)The new doctor issue is resolved unless a new one is added. But one is better than three to five at the same time. Yahoo!

2) Adjusting is a fact of life. It is what it is. Accepting this fact will allow me to adjust plus removing a few irons will let this adjustment happen faster by freeing up time constraints. It will happen one step at a time until a working plan exists and goals are met.

3) Nothing I can do about this except allow more time to get things done.

4) Ugh! Laziness! Limit my time on the computer to three or four hours per day. This will include my cognitive rebuilding games, television, other games, and Cockeyed Homestead business (video editing, website, responding to videos and emails). It does not include blog writing. It takes me on average six hours each to write and edit a blog and I do two of them per week for now.

With this action plan in place and a few more waking hours available, stroke survivor support is doable without me running like a chicken with its head cut off or feeling overwhelmed.

Nothing is impossible.

Moving On

I've had a good, hard look at what I cannot do by myself and what I can. I've scrapped the idea of living on my own and establishing a homestead. It's just taking too long to recover from my strokes. By the time I'm functional enough to do it all by myself, my dying heart won't let me. The latter part of last year and the first part of this year has been me being bluntly honest with myself. Isn't that what a birth of a new year suppose to be? Maybe it's just a "me" thing.

Ever heard, the more things change they remain the same? Well, I'm in for a big change in a couple of months. I'm leaving the only city I've ever had "roots" ( lived in for more than 5 years) in. I've gone back and forth on my decision for months. You've read it all here and now I've decided. I need a new start and some fresh scenery. It's another "what do I want to be when I grow up" move for me. I've already had to do this four times in my life. It will be my homestead dream also with a twist.

The situation isn't money related. I've got enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life... just as my beloved originally planned although not in the way we planned. Still God is good and faithful. God opened a window of opportunity for me. I have prayed long and hard about it for several months and come away with peace that I'm following Him.

Do you remember when I went up to north Georgia to buy rabbits in October? I met the woman (I've been talking to her for years) who had a homestead, but was building it with .no idea what she was doing? Yes, I'm talking about Mel. She offered me a place on her homestead. She had her prayer answered and found a job which meant she had less time for the homestead property. So I'm moving there in two or three months. The reasons behind and leading up to my decision are pretty plain. I need her and she needs me.

I looked at how busy my children and grandchildren have become. They no longer have much time for me...maybe every two weeks or so. And that's the only daughter I have living an hour away. The rest are hours away. I could actually be dead that long, long time before anyone missed me. Now that's a scary thought.  I miss the companionable chats or silence I had with my beloved. How much help I actually needed was examined too. Or at least it would make my life easier.

For instance, I've been on this peanut butter and jelly sandwich kick for about a week now. Well, it came time to open a new jar of peanut butter. I placed the jar under my affected arm and tried to open it. I love having my shoulder back! No luck. The jar wouldn't budge. I placed the jar between my knees. Again no luck. I was cursing myself for not buying one of those nifty jar opening gadgets. I finally got the plastic lid off by running it under the hot water tap. This was only a stinking, plastic lid! I still had the foil-paper liner to deal with but because I had put it in water, the paper came off in tiny pieces. Yeah, it's a tiny, kinda no nothing example, but still.

Think of how hard it is to open Immodium pills, after a painful, time consuming,and energy draining session on the 'mode with business and clean-up. Knowing that if I could just take these two little, blast pills it could stop another session. But before the next bout sends me scurrting to the bathroom again, I have to take the pills. No, but  first, I have to pull off the paper backing and then push the plastic on one side to get the pill through the foil backing (if the pill doesn't disintegrate). Or when a new pharmacist doesn't reads the instructions on his computer about using non-child proof lids on my prescriptions. It leaves me to put the bottle in my mouth to manipulate it to open it. Wet teeth does a fantastic job of ripping the prescription number that I have to call in for refills with. Child-proof I understand, but really! Having someone around who actually HAS two working hands would make all this unnecessary. Of course, I'm listing only mild irritants, but think if it were one of a thousand other things I cannot do or easily do?

I take pride in myself for a never give up attitude, but it gets extremely tiresome. Nothing worth having comes easily, is true, but does the same thing apply for picking a hill instead of a mountain? I mean if it gives you the same results? In this case, I've tried doing everything totally alone for almost six months.  Lord knows, there are plenty of mountains I'll have no choice but to charge up to achieve success. I think I'm capable of doing that if I conserve my energy for the summits. I sure ain't getting any younger.

So my physical location may change but the Murphey Saga continues.