When it rains . . .

it pours. 

I experienced my first tropical storm yesterday. In between the black turbulence of the sky, the two feet of water covering the roadways, and the windshield wipers speeding across the glass of my front window, I made it home safely. But I must confess, I got Beryled. 

No Virus Here!

I apologize to those who may have received the malware virus warning yesterday, seems there was a glitch in some of the blog couture I've been using. After privatizing my blog for only myself to see, I have resolved the problem. Yay, no virus here!

I'd hate to go on record as a site that sends viruses to my friends and family and devoted readers - that's not what this is all about. I also hope to never have to write a message like this in the future or see that scary red do not enter screen. Thanks, as always, for those brave enough to return. But I assure you read on folks, there are no viruses here.

Ask Questions: Where do I see myself in ten years?

My visions of the future are not to be confused with dancing sugarplums, though they sometimes seem more attainable. I often imagine the future and often when I do imagine the future I find myself lost within the nonexistence of that word. My images are often solid and well formulated, but vague in that I only imagine a few things and I never imagine the specifics. And I think that is part of the problem you see – that and my images of the future are far from my realty of today. I have a few of the things I wish for, but in today’s dreams I need a geography lesson and a less shallow pocket.

In ten years, I see a little house, many dogs, including Lola, gray and old, Billy the goat munching on his salad greens, chickens pecking, dirt on my hands from the garden, the one I love smiling at me from the porch step, wind in the trees, the trickle of a creek, and myself as an entrepreneur. Oh, and a mint julep waiting for me next to the one I love. Cold and strong, just like mountain streams. 

Where do you see yourself in ten years? 

Please feel free to leave your answers as comments below. I’d love to hear everyone’s plans for the future. 

The backyard from hell blooms a pumpkin legacy.

Yes, that is right folks. Line on up to see the first ever flower in the backyard from hell. . .

Well, er, not exactly. I must confess. There are many, many wild beach flower weeds growing in my yard, which I hope to soon share with you a few pictures of Spring on the Outer Banks, but for now, just go with it.

Folks, this is the first ever sought after flower in the backyard from hell.

And believe you me folks, I never thought this would happen, but it did and you are here to witness it!

From hell grew beauty (and fall - the best season ever, besides winter).

That's right a pumpkin flower has sprouted. Strong, diligent this plant will tell you a story and my, what a story it has. Want to know the story of this pumpkin? Want to know how it came to be?

That'll cost you 5 cents and another piece of mind.

Tune back in and bring your pocket change - this pumpkin has a story to tell and you wouldn't want to miss the great pumpkin story of the year. See you soon folks.

As you can tell I am super excited about growing my first pumpkin. 

New Tune Tuesday

Click on the tape below to see what I'm listening to!

Spoiled By Boone

Butterflies high up in the sky, do you think they are learning to swim or learning to fly?

Snow falling fast and magical, white like a blanket covering me, covering you.

I left you many years ago my heart wanting to soar, follow, learn some more.

Was it a mistake to leave so soon, when I was still intertwined within you little town so true?

I can’t go back now, never will. My heart has changed, it beats less still.

But I imagine you just the same, green and luscious, my trust remains.

And hidden deep within your hills are little pieces of me that remain so still.

I think I can find them once again, awaken by the magic the Blue Ridge instills.

And this is when I’ll stop and make note that Boone spoiled me yes, but no longer my love is so remote. 

I stole all of these pictures off facebook. Thanks to all the friends that posted these and for keeping such great records  and photos of our wonderful times there. Love to you all. 

Internal struggles

I’m hating my job right now. Yes. I mean it. Seriously. All I want to do is look at awesome blogs online all day, get inspiration from others and continue homesteading and crafting. But no. My life will not allow it. Instead I find myself in my cube pretending to look busy at work or contemplating how awesome it would be for me and Adam to go to another country and live. - - Is this normal?

I think part of this apprehension to wake up and go to work each day is because I have been working my ass off. Which is good right? My parents would say I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m young, work hard, save money, retire early. I’d smile back at them, the whole time mumbling under my breathe, like you did.

I have an ongoing internal struggle. I think some of you out there feel the same way. I have all these questions to ask, but no one knows the answers. How do I work to have money, save money, to afford to live, to have a future, marriage, family,  when all I really want is adventure? How do I find that balance? How do others find that balance? Or do they?

Is there anyone out there that feels the same as I? How do I quiet the beating of my heart? 

Huckleberry Finn, Fishing Rods, and Piracy

I’m in the Huckleberry Finn sort of mood. I don’t officiallyknow what that means, but I have this desire to sit down with a cold beer andThe Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and read it cover to cover. I know this willactually never happen. I haven’t read a book since Christmas and I do not haveHuck Finn handy.  Does anyone have a copyI can borrow?

Maybe, this desire is born from having the wind in my hairand salt on my teeth, my hands griping a fishing pole, my mind medicated withthe reward of fresh seafood. Adam and I took the day off, or rather he had theday off and I took it.

We’ve been fishing all day.

It feels good to have the sun on my face and be fardistanced from the strife of work life. For working at the beach, some of thepeople here are quite heated. It’s funny how conflicting political views striveon small towns. I guess everyone’s fighting over a piece of land that shouldn’tbe. Long live piracy. Long live life on a sandbar. Long live the Outer Banks. 

I've been feeling inspired lately.

First off, I learned the whole reclaimed idea, which lead me into my closet, where I pulled out everything that I barely wear and refashioned them into awesome pieces of clothing. Some of which I rarely take off because I love so much. See my recent post here. My little beach cottage feels like it is shrinking by the minute. I should have probably just taken all those clothes to the goodwill to let someone else reclaim them, but I have a hoarding issue, we all know that. Oh well, the house will keep shrinking.

I’ve moved on to the outside of the home. And while I hate to pour my money and time into my rental yard, I can’t help but try and beautify it. I don't have a picture of my backyard at this moment so let me try and describe it to you:  

The substrate consist of quartz rock and other particles worn to a fine grit called sand, continuous exfoliation for the feet. A variety of different species of plants have begun to take shape in the wilderness and jungle of my backyard, but there are two strong diligent species that rule the terrain. Both with thorns. Sharp strong, but delicate, these thorns whose vines creep centimeters beneath the sand waiting like acupuncture needles to strike, only with a vengeance. One with a beautiful red pitcher shaped flower. The other bears a fruit, black and sweet and loved by birds and humans alike. Only one strong enough to survive an acid rain of bleach and chemicals. But both flourish. Woven within the constraints of the ruling species are the weeds plentiful and strong. Each day they grow inches and inches closer to sky. Like the tower of Babel, I wait for them to be broken down. Within all of this, you can find the ever plentiful sand spur. Stuck in everything they wiggle their way from the outdoors in. A landmine in the night. Preying on the darkness. Waiting for you to step down directly on one of several sharp thorns. A reminder of why life in general sucks? Or just a little fuck you from the universe? You decide, while I dig this thorn from my heal. - - The backyard from hell. 

It still appalls me that my landlords think this yard is landscaped. Seriously ya’ll?

My second recent inspiration has grown from the word homesteading. It’s always words with me. Words pieced together to form quotes and ideas. I find myself moved by the simplicity of words, how one word like love or hate or peace or retreat can mean so much. More on this later. . .  

I wasn’t really sure what homesteading was, so I looked it up on Wikipedia. Simply stated,

"Homesteading is a lifestyle of simple self-sufficiency.”

Was this quote written for me? About me? Simple self-sufficiency is the one thing that I consistently strive for. I mean I’m in the process of making my own laundry detergent, if only I can find the A&H washing soda, the final ingredient. I have tomatoes, and green beans, and herbs, and peppers and a pumpkin growing in my sandcastle and jungle of a backyard. I collect rainwater to water the plants, fill the aquariums, flush the toilets (yes, I’ve done this). I pay money to have recycling provided to me and my neighbor, why – because I think it’s more important to recycle than to have the money. This is who I am. I am homesteading. I live, breathe, eat homesteading, and I didn’t even know it.

I will continue to share with you my simple self-sufficiency and homesteading ideas and projects. I hope you enjoy them and I hope they will inspire you! 

My Week in Photos

1. Bodie Island 2. Reclaimed Water 3. My Life Ring = Friends

4. Dog to the Rescue 5. Wild Mustangs 6. Pier Chilling and the Water is Green 

The facts of frozen foods.

I started to buy frozen vegetables because I was informed they are fresher than fresh produce. I know, it kinda sounds like an oxymoron, but the way it was explained to me made sense. And indeed, I do believe that frozen vegetables are fresher because they instantly freeze the freshness in, while produce loses freshness as it travels to your local grocery or produce store. So yes, I started to buy frozen vegetables over fresh. Until I read this in my green printed monthly calendar, which also provides me with little green tips each month. Thanks, At-A-Glance calendars. 

Buy locally grown produce, and skip the frozen stuff.

Frozen food uses 10 times more energy to produce.

I am once again confronted with a decision.

Buy frozen and waste energy or buy fresh and loose, for lack of better words, freshness?

I’m back to buying fresh produce. I and my body will take the hit here. Energy matters more to me than fresh quality. And really how much freshness can it really be lacking??

Reclaimed.

I love that, ‘reclaimed’, ‘repurposed’, ‘reused’. Not just the word, but everything about it.

I have been reclaiming items since I was a child. One time I made a ‘Flintstone’ car out of the plastic from pushpops. I made a Santa Sleigh complete with Santa and reindeer out of toilet paper rolls and cotton balls. It was my mom’s favorite gift that Christmas. I made clothes for my American girl dolls. I made toys. I made picture frames. I made anything and everything. In high school, I moved onto clothes. Being the youngest of three, the majority of my wardrobe was composed of hand-me-downs from the older sisters. I could have had it worse. I could have had brothers. I could have hated their style. I could have had a lot of things, but for the most part I didn’t mind their clothes. I just wanted them to be mine. I didn't do refashion often as Mom didn’t approve of me cutting up practically good clothes. My sewing skills were elementary and still are. It didn’t always work out in my favor, but for the few things that did, I was really proud of them. I didn’t have a sewing machine, so I did it all by hand. And most of my repurposing projects were just minor things, a slit here, lace detailing here, a little puff paint on the sleeves (yes, I did this once to decorate a Cross Country shirt – I loved it for about a month. Then I realized how awful it was.).

Recently, I started repurposing a lot more. I’ve had motivation (and free DIY patterns) from this site, Cottons and Curls, which has helped a lot.

I repurposed these light blue pants below, but failed to take a before shot, so I will just tell you they were flared or taper pants. Anna, you might recognize them, they use to be yours. Now, they are light blue skinnies, perfect for beach work wear.

Then I tried to repurpose a flannel shirt. I bought it for a 90s party I threw last year as a move in celebration. It's a man's shirt from Eddie Bower, so it was super wide on me. Again, no before picture, but you can see by the after that I am still making mistakes. No, I am not holding my arms up, they are stuck like that because I sewed the arms way too tight.  I guess I thought my arms were much smaller than they actually are.

This is my next project: Simple Shirt into, cute omber dyed tee. Pictures to come!

So, I’m new at this. Please tell me if any of my reclaimed fashions are hideous. I need your advice - leave me your comments. Thanks!