Well, becoming independent of what's been called "the formal economy", maybe. See, I don't care a whit about "saving the Earth", mostly because I think she isn't in danger, but I do care about making sure that everyone in my household is insulated from the Random Acts of Extreme Stupidity being committed daily in the formal economy by certain people we won't mention. (*cough* PBO!) Let's just say that as the person in the household who balances the checkbook, I recognize the signs. It's terribly fun getting into debt, most of the time, but I do believe as a nation we've reached the point that households reach when they go out and buy plasma TVs so they can distract themselves from the forclosure notices piling up on the credenza.
The Earth (she's not my mother) is doing just fine. But isn't it ironic that when you do the right thing anyway, like not wasting things and gardening the part of the Earth you've been given (Genesis does instruct humans to 1) populate and 2) garden/subdue the Earth), that you end up doing what has been called "dark green" stuff? So although I laugh in the face of those buying carbon indulgences, I end up doing stuff that they approve of but think is extreme, like hand-cultivating my garden and using cloth diapers. Why? Because July approaches, and I want independence.
Or actually I suppose we should say we are striving for "interdependence", because I'm all for getting together with neighbors, but let's face it, when I'm talking about growing food and mending things, I'm really talking about doing what you have to so you don't have to take things from people that probably have no buisness
It's foolish to pretend that bad times won't happen to us. I'm coming to the point lately where I am starting to believe it's foolish to pretend that bad times aren't already upon us; I've started replacing the "rec" in "recession" with "depr" when speaking about it in conversation.
Which means we all should sit up and take notice of the lessons from prior generations. There have always been economic hard times. (Know when Earth Day started? In the midst of another recession.) At the moment it doesn't look like the current depression, at least in my neighborhood, means people eating grass because they're starving to death. But because I'm a mom, I intend to see that nobody within the reach of my salad tongs goes hungry. (Will people who don't share DNA with me have to work for their mouthful? Of course, but hey, it's a big garden and I'll take the help weeding.)
Since you all are metaphorically in the reach of my salad tongs, I thought I'd give you a little list to think about as we approach the garden-planting-type season. Also you may be getting income-tax refunds this year, and if I were a wagering woman I'd say you shouldn't count on it next year; spend your extra change on stuff that will keep working for you--not a plasma TV.
Here are things you can be learning to do, if you still have any spare time and income to do them. They may well mean the difference between comfortable, frugal living (albeit without extras) down the line and grinding, miserable poverty. Here they are, in no particular order:
1. Examine your land and decide what you can produce.
I'm not talking about raising beef in Manhattan (although that would be neat) or chickens if all you have is an apartment with no balcony. But make your own cookies for your lunchbox, at least. If you can grow something, grow it. On our place this translates into my loose rule of thumb: I don't put in any new plants that don't produce something useful for food or medicine. (Even the roses make rose hips.) We're still learning, but even with a severe lack of weeding and bad planning, our garden produced pounds and pounds of food last year.
2. Fix things.
Socks. Buttons that pop off. Table legs. You get the idea. Try to fix it, mend it, tighten it, or paint it before you buy a new one. There's tons of free information about how to fix almost everything out there on the internet.
3. Think outside the (Big) Box.
If you can get children's books at the secondhand store for 75 cents, for instance, why buy them for $8 at Target? Look around. And give yourself time to discover your options--creative shopping takes longer than just going straight to the mall. Having extra cash may be no help if things in the economy go really sour--I'm talking, South America sour--but you can bet having more disposbale income to dispose of on things like a good pair of shoes will make you more comfortable.
If you've done your due diligence, however, don't feel bad at the mall.
4. Learn new stuff.
...while you can still afford the interweb. :)
5. Cultivate the correct mindset.
Have you all decided I'm a doomer yet? I'm actually not. I would be thrilled to see the country suddenly wake up, realize we're throwing money hilariously into a blender, and decide to sober up and quit it. I don't have a bunker. I haven't given you any instructions about buying ammo. What I'm calling "correct mindset" isn't the idea that the world is about to end any minute, so we'd better get the Spam while we can.
It's a simple acknowledgement that, for the 10,000 years of recorded human history, the hard times have been more abundant than the good times. Heck, even for the 200 years of American history the hard times have been more abundant. And for most of American history, people have both expected hard times and have been more resilient to them. We cannot all return to being subsistence farmers. But most people can store a bit of food under beds, in closets, or around the place. And most people can grow something, be it only a jar of sprouts on the counter.
If the difference between making it comfortably through a hurricane, job loss, or medical emergency is a bag of rice that will cost you $15 now, why not go ahead and buy it? You like rice anyway, don't you?
This doesn't even get into the fun parts of independence, like making your own hooch. Seriously, after a while it gets to be a sort of mental game--can we make that instead of buying it? Can I improvise that from something? Can I patch those pants one more time? Can I figure out how to do that, instead of hiring it done?
It's an education. I am surely not perfect, and I sometimes get a fit (usually after watching TV, I admit...) of longing for strappy sandals, fake fingernails, and a new dress. Usually it takes only a moment of thinking about how those fingernails would tear off if I tried to knead bread or change a diaper to settle me back down to contentment.
Trust the Lord, do the work your hands find to do, be happy that you've got the chance to work, be content with food and covering... and be independent.
Cheers,
Breanna
P.S. The ginger beer is carbonating itself and is almost ready to bottle. I'm going to have to buy balloons to cap the bottles, I think. Spooky.
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