There’s no question that I spend more of my waking hours outdoors than I have since I was a kid ordered to “go play outside.” Whatever the season, the weather or the time of day, being under open sky and surrounded by wild woodland is where I prefer to be.
Fresh air adds life to my days, if not days to my Life. Either way, I recommend it.
After I got off the phone with Deb this morning, nursing the last of my coffee, I looked around for something to do. I found it hanging from the hydrant next to the cabin.
We’re still RVing, so we’re still doing all the RV things. Though I’d fitted a new filter to the fresh-water supply just a few weeks back, it was time already to replace it. The water that our well pulls from 782 feet beneath the surface of The Mountain is high-octane stuff, chock-full of minerals, and we could tell that the in-line filter, installed upstream at the hydrant, was due for a swap.
That took me two minutes.
We won’t be keeping house in a camper forever, but the RV experience informs how we’ll deal with this water when it feeds the cabin.
I succeeded in pushing back our trash run ’til today. With the same discipline, my next trip to the county transfer station will be a week from Friday, possibly not ’til the following Monday.
Yeah, it’s only four bucks — and it is garbage, after all — but it’s the principle of the thing. Anyway, we’re gettin’ better at it.
On my drive back, I stopped at Harps for a six-pack of IPA (mostly for Deb), snack pies (mostly for me) and a half-dozen pastries, which I dropped off at the bank for Deb to share with her co-workers.
Beautiful day here, sunny, calm, upper 80s. Tomorrow will be more of the same, with a chance of storms late in the afternoon. After that we’ll have a four-day stretch of 70°F or cooler. Monday, believe it or not, will begin in the 30s.
I’m still waiting for a wet window for sowing grass seed.
Recent posts have been split, I know, between chronicle and commentary. I don’t invest a lot of energy in making smooth transitions between the two. Often the result is awkward, at times downright clumsy.
On any given day, though, you get what you get — whatever’s happening, and whatever’s rattling around in my head.
The latter returns to the roots of Ubi Libertas Blog some 1,245 posts ago. The combination, however, more faithfully represents the mind of your humble host.
What I’d really like to do is become more helpful in practical, constructive ways. I haven’t lost my aversion to making this blog a “how-to,” but on The Mountain and in our American Life, we do things every day that work for us and might be useful to others.
Deb regularly nudges me to offer tips about prepping, and I’ve done that a few times already this year. Myself, I want to share more about woodcraft — not as some sort of guru (which I’m not), but as a fellow explorer.
That’ll also be my approach as we build-out the cabin, of course.
Commentary on current events will continue to appear in this space. We live in wrenching times for our culture. The America we once celebrated is dead and awaiting proper burial, save where it fights to survive in the hearts of Patriots and in far-flung corners of the land.
I can’t imagine not having something to say about that.
For me and many others, the seemingly odd mix of rustic living, woodcraft, practical skills, prepping, American traditions and individual Liberty isn’t odd at all. It’s as natural to us as breathing. It’s the Life we’ve chosen.
I express it through this blog.
If you’re a long-timer here, you understand. More than that, something keeps you coming back. I have my suspicions about why that is.
Here you read about Deb and me, the strange journey that brought us to The Mountain, and the American Life we’re creating in this place. You know what’s important to us — the traditions we keep alive, the values we hold dear and the principles on which we stand.
You can see that we made the conscious choice to get out of society’s mainstream, to move physically to a place apart from the world. It’s no exaggeration to say that we are, willingly, exiles.
You’re here because you are, too.
Even if you’re still stuck in suburbia, grinding away at a job you hate and mired in an existence that shackles you to a world you hate even more, I suspect that mentally, emotionally, ethically and ideologically you’ve stepped out of the mainstream. At your core, you’re an exile.
You know it. Everyone around you knows it.
The only thing missing is the physical move. You’re just not there yet.
And so you come to this blog (among other places, I’m sure) because Deb and I are like minds. What we’re doing lines up with who you are.
I want you to know that I’m glad you’re here.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB
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