Sunday Stroke Survival: You're Just Old Fashioned

I received an email last week that called my thinking  "old fashioned." Well, I do say..."agree, disagree, indifferent...no matter" above the comments so I asked for it. My first thought when I read this wasn't anger, but I thought, Oh, thank you! Yes, as a Christian, I'm wired differently.  I also do tend to hold my opinions until I get the whole story. It could have been worse. They simply could have called me  an old fart. Wait a minute. I call myself that all the time here. I tend to keep Louisa May Alcott's words close~ as if it was engraved on my soul.  

 "Good, old-fashioned ways keep hearts sweet, heads sane, hands busy."

Living post stroke,  I tend to simplify my life and don't sweat the small stuff with a this-to-shall-pass attitude for the most part. Stressing only makes the frustration and situation worse. I am what I am. I'm old enough not to have to prove anything to anyone. The fact that I've always thought this way is besides the point.

Credit

I tend to be hard working and soft hearted. That's just me. Even post stroke, not a day goes by when I'm not in the garden or orchard pushing my limited body to the collapsing point. Why? I feel the need to do so. I'm not the type of person who looks at a challenge and says I can't do that any more. After all, who knows what they are really capable of if they don't try?

Millions of people out there want to write a book and never do. Be it nonfiction or  a novel. I've done both.  I haven't written anything new in over six years besides these blog posts. I still get monthly royalty checks for my self published works even after all this time has passed. The point is, I did it. It was hard learning a new skill set, but I wasn't afraid to try.

Living post stroke every day is challenging under normal circumstances. Even getting out of bed in the morning isn't without its problems. Taking on the daily tasks of homesteading is borderline insanity, but they haven't come to take me away to the funny farm yet. Wait, is that an ambulance I hear? Nah, it's just Lil Red, the rooster, crooning to his ladies.  Darn, it sure sounded like an ambulance though. Whew, I was worried for a minute. 

This was my dream and strokes fall into the fiery pit, I'm going to get my dream. I'll admit my choice is not everyone's, but it's mine. Be it an old fashioned ideal or just insanity, I'll own it.

Maybe I am old fashioned in my thinking. I find new uses for items rather than fill the landfills with it. I expect quality workmanship for my bucks. I used to say in writers circles that I had 'made in Japan' stamped on my butt with pride. My mother sewed on a Toyota sewing machine for 40 years before I got it.  I relearned how to spin, after my strokes, on my great grandmother's spinning wheel.  I believe in giving 110% to anything I've committed to. I give more than I'll ever get back. Not that I do it for that reason. I believe all life has a purpose. I dislike this disposable mentality of people these days. If it's broke buy a new one instead of trying to fix it. I believe, as the Bible says, to treat everyone as you would want to be treated and love one another. I believe in quality of life not quantity. If you really want to do something or be something in your life, you don't need a bucket list, you fulfill that desire. Even after my strokes, when my all rights I should have given up my dream of a more self sufficient lifestyle, I didn't and found a way to have it.

Old fashioned? Why, thank you and you betcha! I'll take that compliment even though you didn't mean it as such.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival~ ARGH! Despair and Agony on Me!

Not really! I just wanted to say the title yo see what it felt like. I've honestly never felt this way totally. So many stroke survivors live daily this way day in and day out. My question is why? Life sent you a curve ball and you have a decision to make...whether to swing and possibly hit it out of the park or take to strike.

I've never been one to take a strike. I root for the underdog and go for hitting the ball out of the park. I may miss but I at least try. That's how I feel about my stroke. It's a curve ball. I had dreams and aspirations before my stroke, and now it's just a matter of getting back to it.

Every so often I play a "Gotcha Day." It's been a long time since I've done one. It's a fun thing to do...telling a tidbit of information and see how it embellishes itself in the retelling. In other words...feeding the rumor mill.

I announced I was building a tiny house and homestead. Well, not so recently it was three years ago. But recently, I've evaluated the story from various sites and family to see where it led.

Comments among relatives...

• She's lost her mind since the stroke and her impeding death of her husband.
• How can she manage by herself? I mean look at her.
• I admire her courage but it's insane!
• Don't worry. It's just a fantasy and it will never happen.

On the web...

• The great homesteading experiment. 
• Grassroots and seat of your pants back to basics.
• My 20-acre homestead adventure has now grown to 1,000 plus.
• I now have cows and horses.
• I've failed at the attempt and have given up.

The truth...

Yes, my stroke and a major financial crunch has made me rethink my plans of homesteading. I've sold my 20 acres or at least it's on the market. I'm still playing it smart urban homesteading instead. The curve ball has had a definite influence. For one thing, the big move has been delayed in part because of my stroke and my husband's rapidly failing health.

I'm rethinking the scale of my property. I'm downsizing it by half and looking for five to ten acres of land. I still want the pond and/or creek.  Two daughters will not be joining me on the homestead. They have built or are in the process of building their own. I've played at gardening for two years post stroke and can do it. I'm also researching an aquaponics system.

I've been raising my chickens for years now so I know I can do it. I'll need to build a bigger house for the new ones. My four girls have steadily producing less eggs now that they've reached the five year mark so they are destined for the next stage of their life...food for me.

I have a plan to build another pallet and hoop house for them which will give a lot more room to the new chickens. I'm going for twenty next round for eggs, meat, and fun.

Based on this design

I have a two-year plan for raising and breeding Angora rabbits. With plans on purchasing a breeding trio (1 males and two females) this winter. I've converted a double closet into a rabbitry to house them. This should house four-six rabbit easily giving each ample room. Yes I still have Buddy too. He's not going anywhere.

Speaking of Buddy...I had to remove Bella (my female Guinea Pig) out of the big cage. He developed nasty habit of plopping down on top of her. Her irritated squeals and actually biting him made it a necessity. His ten pounds versus her two and a half pounds. They still chat when he jumps up to his second level and when they are in the outside tractor. Although like most couples she does all the talking and he stoically listens not saying anything. :)

I've plucked over two pounds of fiber from Buddy. I now take him to Pet Supplies Plus and the manager cuts his nails for me since I have no kids around me now. No recent pictures because he's molting. Angoras do this yearly. He looks like a hot mess. But, he's a happy, loving mess. It's a bit creepy to see him without fur. Rabbits have very thin skin so the veins show, but I can do a thorough skin exam on him.

The plan is for pure bred, blue-eyed, white, French Angoras. That's not to mean that Buddy can't have his turn at breeding either. But alas, these hybrids will be raised for the next stage of life, my freezer. Yes, I'm practical about this and I have a plan. I'll breed for food, wool, or sale. That means every four-six months or so I'll have babies. I did something similar with my meat rabbits who are now in their next life. I bred on demand. When I needed meat, I bred them.

The plans is for an eight-ten hole rabbitry and no bigger. But I'm starting small with four. I'm taking baby steps towards my pre-stroke dreams. I tried my hand at butchering rabbits. It wasn't pretty doing it one handed and it took forever! But I tried it and did it. At least with one rabbit this winter. My grandson did the other two. But I imagine it will get easier with practice. I haven't tried butchering chickens yet but their time is coming just as soon as the need-to-be-purchased chicken come and age up a bit.

I decided on this new design

Someone asked me why a tiny house. While the idea of living in less than 200 square feet seemed daunting for two or more people, I'll soon be alone. It seems logical to me. Less space + less stuff= less clean up. I mean really how much stuff do you really need? The fact that it's tiny means the possibility of less falls. I mean there's always something close to grab onto.

Besides most of my time will be spent outdoors anyhow. I do plan on building a barn to house my rabbitry, chickens and goats.
Yes, goats. My independent living plan includes Pygora goats. Goats are terrific for clearing underbrush. They'll mow your grass. They'll provide wool. They'll provide milk. They'll provide meat. Makes sense to me. Sounds like a win-win situation.

Why I decided on Pygora goats? They are small about the size of one of my German Shepherds. At 75-95 pounds, they are manageable versus their counterparts at over 150 pounds and the size of a Great Dane. I can call someone for hoof care and shearing once a year or get a grandchild to do it. I can almost guarantee that once I have semi mastered rabbit and chicken butchering, doing something bigger won't be a problem.

So that's the truth. My stroke may have delayed the enviable, but it hasn't stopped me. It's the curve balls in life that make the journey more interesting. Yes, we can honestly live more easily without them, but that would be so-o-o boring. Baby stepping may be the safest way to go about a goal, but to me, it's better than cliff digging. Life is all about the learning process. Getting there is half the fun and once you get where you are going, the stuff of memories.

So what are you going to do with your curve balls?

Nothing is impossible with determination.