Homestead mailing list

[Clansgian AT wmconnect.com]

> Ignorance is bliss? 

Read more carefully.  A lack of desire for something does not require someone 
to be ignorant of it.  I have no desire whatever for a Hummer, that doesn't 
mean I don't know what one is.


>The scenario occurs when the kids go see the  

> bright lights. How many come back happy to live a homestead life? 

The ones who do not come back happy to live on the homestead are probably 
precisely the ones that weren't happy to begin with.  The problem isn't 
homestead 
or not, it's happy or not.

I have (or had, most are dead now) relatives who cringed in horror at our 
lifestyle of modesty and physical work.    None of these people were 
themselves 
happy.  Their MO was this:  "I've pushed to have a new car, big house, 
country 
club membership, etc. and I'm not happy.  I keep pushing harder and I'm still 
no happier, although I hold as a religious tenet that this is where happiness 
lies, or at least the avoidance of unhappiness.  So since I have all this 
stuff and I'm not particularly happy, you must be miserable beyond all 
measure!"

This same relative used to take the children when they were small to a 
ridiculously expensive clothing store and buy them one oufit that cost enough 
to 
clothe them for two years.  Like some kind of odd addict, it seemed that she 
got 
some temporary relief from hemoraging money for a moment.  Us?  We come out 
of 
the used clothing store with the next year's clothing and cackle with glee 
saying "Ha!  Look what we got for $30."  

So it's not a matter of ignorance, it's a matter of orientation.


>And  > even to do as you have done requires a certain amount of money for  
> land, vehicle, tools, well, septic, electric, building materials,  
> taxes. I presume you earned wages to get those dollars.

''Wages' meaning monetary income, yes.  But not actual wages per se, I've 
been self-employed for just about forever.

Again, though, it's a matter of orientation, one's relationship with money.  
I would never let myself live hand to mouth, paycheck to paycheck, as it 
were. 
 If that threatened, I lowered my standard of living to meet my income.  I'd 
have lived in the woods in a tent if need be.  This proclivity has proven 
though the years to be like a barb that only goes in one way, a knot tied in 
one's 
rope of days.  The advantage of retreating from the financial ragged edge 
accumulates like a snowball.

Now by any standards, I live in poverty.  Utter abject many tiers below the 
official poverty evel dirt poor.  Yet, we've got plenty of everything we 
need, 
including money.

The difference, I think, is this:  Yes, I've had to earn money for land, 
septic tank, tools, taxes, insurance, internet, and even salt and tea.  And 
chocolate.  Don't get trapped on a remote homested with a woman and have no 
chocolate on hand (shudder).  But I've never given in to selling my soul for 
filthy 
lucre.  Tomorrow morning I don't have to get in the vehicle and drive 25 
miles 
in order to meet this months bills.  I may bestir myself to earn some money 
this month, then again, I might not.  I might take that gig riding herd on 
the 
dentist's computer system, but then again, I might not.  I hope you can see 
that 
my orientation toward money is a lot different than what the words "have to 
have money" imply.

For example, the past couple of months I designed (or refined the design) on 
one of the things I make.  I've got six under constrution, the first one pays 
for all the materials, new tools, and also happens to cover the property 
taxes 
and house insurance for the year.  The other five?  Dunno.  Put some away.  
Maybe get that milling machine for the metal parts.  Chocolate, definately 
get 
some more chocolate.

But I'm not waiting with bated breath hoping I will meet the month's bills.  
And all this, says I - this is my story - because I was able to look the 
bright lights square on and say, I don't desire it.

By the bye, which thing see that I just redesigned and made:

www.geocities.com/one7thfarme/harptree.jpg   </HTML>