Rounding the turn at the far end of my morning chore path and heading for home, I looked to my left to see how the grass seed I sowed eight weeks ago is doing. And it’s doing great, thanks, lush and thick and deep green in most places.
Movement caught my eye — something black was picking through the tall growth. At first I thought it was a crow, but then I noticed the white head, definitely furry and not feathery.
It was a striped skunk, a young one by the looks of it, digging for grubs.
We live in the woods. Yeah, you’ll have that.
I just used a term — “chore path” — that I heard for the first time last week. An off-gridding YouTuber, a Canadian by the name of Curtis Stone, invoked it more than once in an interview I caught on another channel.
The words rang familiar. It took me back to my childhood in farm country — “chore path” described perfectly what I witnessed in people who live close to the land. Every day, one foot in front of the other, a regular route, making the rounds and doing what needs to be done.
It also felt like a good fit for what I do these days. More than just an apt description, it’s useful to think of work as a “path,” a circuit of tasks.
It’s a match for something else I said here recently, too — routine, structure, discipline. And so I’ve incorporated “chore path” into my vocabulary. You’ll see it here again.
While I slumped yesterday, I watched a video that Simple Living Alaska did a couple of months ago. Almost 90 minutes long, it collects into a chronology the couple’s experience living off-grid through the long, harsh Alaska winter.
They did battle with the elements, of course, including temperatures as low as -58°F. At times they struggled to keep even one of their three generators running, and they fought mechanical failures of well pump, truck, livestock heater, snow machines, tractor and more.
Their clothes froze solid in a closet. They had to make the sad decision to euthanize one of their dogs.
Nothing was presented melodramatically. What drama there was resulted from the experience itself.
Arielle said this at the end of the video:
“Winters are challenging here. There’s a physical demand in the lifestyle that Eric and I lead, but there’s more of a psychological demand — or challenge, shall I say.”
There’s infinite truth in that. Everyone talks about how difficult it can be physically to live off-grid, or even to live as self-sufficiently as possible out in the country. Left unspoken, however, is the need for psychological toughness.
Mental and emotional weakness are lethal.
Deb and I understand that well. While we don’t presume to compare Ozarkansas to Alaska, we do have firsthand experience with off-grid realities like hauling water and relying on generated power. We know what it’s like to nurse a failing generator through triple-digit heat and troubleshoot frozen water lines in sub-zero cold. And on and on — we get it.
See, physical strength doesn’t get a person through any of that shit. What separates people who want to live out here from people who do — and who thrive — is psychological toughness.
Oh, and one more thing — you won’t know if you have what it takes ’til you’re tested.
I mean, some folks clearly aren’t cut out for this kind of American Life and shouldn’t even attempt it. But of those who think they’re up to the challenge, very few truly are.
I wondered about myself, frankly.
All I can tell you is that we’re still here. And we’re thriving.
Life is good.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB