In The Wake of the Swollen Goat

Goodnight, Mother Ocean

2010-05-30T16:17:00.002-05:00

My heart breaks.

Watching the ocean die is worse than watching your mother die of cancer.

Goodbye Gulf. Goodbye Louisiana. Goodbye fish and pelicans. Goodbye shrimp and oysters. Goodbye reef, and lobsters, and dolphins. Goodbye food chain.

We have finally, really, killed it.

This is where the slide gets steep, people.

Pray to god, but row for shore.

Now, I See

2009-09-24T17:21:00.002-05:00

Just an update while I still have access to this IP address.

My days are bright and quiet, filled with meaningful work.
Chop wood and carry water.
My nights are dark and still.
The milky way shines in all it's glory.

I am humbled, and thankful. Deeply grateful, really.

Out in flyover country, up that steep gravel road, I am finally free.
I am free of the psychic chaos of the cities.
I can finally open myself enough to concentrate on making the only change that matters;
the change within myself.

I was blind, but now I see.

Please.

Let us ALL see.

So Long and Thanks...

2009-07-31T17:46:00.005-05:00

This blog has served me well. I've met so many interesting people, and through sharing their stories I have had a glimpse into our collective human consciousness.

By observing the interaction and reactions of myself and others, it has become apparent to me how driven by ego we all are. It is my sincere belief that by living unconsciously we are feeding the ego; the sense of separation.
This is the root cause of our suffering. The Ego is the final Beast to starve.

What follows for me is a journey to the inside, and isn't something I can effectively share on a blog. There are others out there speaking the Truth more gracefully than I.

Eckhardt Tolle's book "A New Earth" is a good place to start if you feel interested in learning more about this final Beast.
We have met the enemy, and he is us.

For just as the Green Valley exists inside each of us, so too does the Beast.

The final showdown approaches, my friends. I'm as ready as I'll ever get.

Follow your heart.
Listen to your soul.
Be kind to each other, for we are all mirrors.

We must face the darkness before we may see the dawn.

Blessings to all,
may Love and Light surround you.

"So long and thanks for all the fish."
(The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

I Am the Highway

2009-07-29T23:29:00.002-05:00

I AM NOT YOUR ROLLING WHEELS,
I AM THE HIGHWAY

This is how I feel right now.
Sorry about the lame bubble inserts; please ignore. This was the best version of the song I found...

Get up, Stand up!

2009-07-22T00:40:00.004-05:00

You can fool some people sometimes, but you can't fool all the people all the time.
\
Don't give up the fight.

On the Turning Away

2009-07-19T18:02:00.004-05:00

This is a beautiful song, and beautiful thoughts.
We can all use a reality check like this one sometimes.

From Pink Floyd's "A Momentary Lapse of Reason"
The youtube comments are good too.
This is posted partly in response to a rant I was having over at Dakin's blog, http://bisonsurvivalblog.blogspot.com/

7 habits of the highly infected kind...

2009-07-14T15:00:00.002-05:00

I saw Dragon's post of Type O Negative's "Profits of Doom" and started thinking about the Clutch song of the same title. This is a cooler video than Clutch - Profits of Doom though.

Garden Pictures

2009-07-13T13:52:00.004-05:00

As requested, some pictures of the garden...
Peas climbing the fence

Beans and turnips

The raspberry patch

The blueberry patch

Bee hives in the orchard, looking up toward the house

Mom and Aunt by a corn bed

A garden cat

The squash bed

The parsnip that ate Chicago

View over corn beds to broccoli

Beets, carrots and cucumbers growing beneath the corn

Broccoli!

By the way, this place is for sale. 3 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath, daylight basement with garage and lots of storage, about 2000 square feet. Set up for passive solar heating, wood stove, on about 2 acres with year round pond.
A bedroom community of Seattle, good schools, still lots of Tech industry jobs....
List price is $450K, negotiable.
Feel free to e-mail or leave a comment if interested....

Garden Notes

2009-07-07T17:58:00.002-05:00

The Garden is a constant source of joy (and food).
Beans are starting to flower, beets are getting fat, broccoli has golf ball sized heads, and zucchinni and winter squash have baby squashes.

Harvesting peas, pac choy, swiss chard, garlic, raspberries and cherries. Blueberries will be ripening soon. Corn is almost waist high. It's time for a second thinning of the carrots; the thinned are big enough to be edible.

One of the bee hives swarmed today, and there is a football sized clump of bees hanging out in one of the apple trees.

The Parsnip That Ate Chicago (it's about 2 feet taller than me) is getting fat seeds that should be dry and ready to save in a month or so. Select spinach and lettuce plants are also being allowed to seed.

Watching and waiting.

Finding the Green Valley

2009-07-02T12:44:00.009-05:00

The rest of my trip was very enjoyable. I visited several friends, had bonfires on the beach, and many fabulous conversations about our disconnected society and looking for ways to heal it.

My last stop was a rest area just south of the Oregon/California border. I had intended to make more miles, but the rest area was well off the highway, with soft green grass and a beautiful sparkly river.

It was just so damn pleasant I had to stop for the night, even though it was early in the afternoon.

Redwing blackbirds chuckled in the willows and cattails, and every so often I would catch a whiff of sea air, blowing up the river from the Pacific.

I laid on the grass near the river, and thought about my journey. It was amazing how the timing had worked out. Any time I was delayed, it worked to my advantage. I invariably arrived at friends places at the beginning of their weekends. Once I just decided to flow with it and "let it roll" everything fell into place.
I thought about how thankful I was for this opportunity to see our big, beautiful country, and follow spring across it.
I gave thanks for good friends, and for simply being alive and able to appreciate all the wonderful possibilities life has to offer.

Slowly I drifted into a state of bliss I can only describe as the "God experience". When one is truly, deeply grateful for one's existence, and hyper aware of the realities that surround you, you can get to a place where you feel the earth breathing, and feel that you are a part of All That Is.

It is a place so whole and loving and happy it never fails to move me to tears, though they are tears of joy.

It occurred to me that wherever my friends were on this journey, there was a green valley.

Near Santa Cruz, CA

Near Tucson, AZ

There was a Green Valley park near my brother, and a Green Valley town near my mom.

The Green Valley isn't necessarily a physical place, it is inside me. It's where my community lives.
That Green Valley is inside all of us. Where do you think the Eden story comes from?
The Green Valley is an archetype as old as mankind.

This blog has been slipping for a while. I'm simply too busy to spend much time time on the computer. I think it's time to wrap things up.
I'll still check in from time to time, and maybe be lurking in the blogosphere, but this is probably my last post.
I am a different person now. This blog no longer reflects me as I currently exist.
If I start a new blog I will post a link here.

A few days ago, I visited a place that comes as close to the physical reality of my Green Valley as I could ever hope for.

About 1 1/2 hours drive from the nearest city, up winding country roads, across an old wooden bridge, lies a valley surrounded by wooded foothills.
I worked alongside fellow gardeners and volunteers in the acre of organic vegetable gardens.

I wandered through the fields, skimming my hands across wildflowers and grasses, and felt like I could fly.

I swam in the beautiful rocky trout stream beneath the wooden bridge, and saw more food swimming around in the water than I had seen since the reef in Key West.

I hiked up to a patch of old growth trees, put my hands to them and gave thanks that they still existed, while praying for their continued existence.

I followed nicely built hippies through the shoulder high grass next to the stream.

I felt this land welcoming me home, holding me gently in its embrace like a lover.

We are each responsible for creating our reality. With every thought and word and deed we shape what we experience.
I want a reality filled with love and peace and light, and I will work tirelessly toward that end.

Each of us is a creature of God, a part of the universe, and like it or not we hold the power to manifest our reality. Negative energy begets negative reality, and positive energy begets positive reality.

You can't fight the waves, but you can learn to surf.
I just caught a monster wave, and I'm gonna hang on and ride it all the way in to the land of milk and honey.
From here on out, I surf.

Highlands of the Mind

2009-06-13T11:25:00.004-05:00

I left Arizona, and I was tired of the desert.
I like places where things are green.
I drove until I reached California, and breathed a deep sigh of relief to be back on the west coast. I spent the night at a rest area, with the scent of new mown alfalfa hay drifting into my dreams.

The next day I went to visit my brother in the mountains east of San Diego.
After the harsh monotony of the desert, the wild beauty of the mountains was a breath of fresh air.
I came to a valley at about 4,000 feet, and its untouched beauty took my breath away.

The prairie grass undulated gently in the wind, and in the distance a sweep of yellow wildflowers clothed the soft hills and drew my eye to the mountains beyond.

It was so beautiful, I had to pull over and stop to cry.
It finally dawned on me.

I was free.

No longer could I feel the pain and fear of the city. The sense of impending doom I had felt so strongly in Louisiana was finally gone.
These mountains were sparsely populated. They just felt empty and natural and free.

After a few deep breaths, I continued to my brother's place.
I stopped in the small town to ask directions, and smelled lilacs and dutch iris blooming for the first time in 10 years.

My brother has a pretty sweet deal. He lives off grid in a tiny hut, and works for an outdoor adventure camp where room and board are paid, and he gets $400 a week.
He eats fabulous organic food, most of it grown in the gardens on site.
Health care is 100% paid for.
I didn't know that still existed.

My Bro and I didn't talk for about 6 years. I thought he was an arrogant poser hippie and he thought I was a loser for abandoning my marriage and my schooling to live in Key West.

But things have a way of coming full circle, and over the years we came to the same conclusions about life and society, and share many philosophies and interests - prepping being one of those.

In true redneck fashion, we decided to hunt ground squirrels for dinner, since they frequented the compost pile.
He was a bit overeager and went tromping up to said pile, promptly scaring dinner back underground.

Oh well.

But as we were walking back, we saw a pair of turkeys in the valley below.

"Should I get 'em, Bro? I've got a shot."
The turkeys were about 80 yards off.
"Well, I don't know......."
The turkeys were moving farther away.
"Now or never dude!"
"Uhhhhh..."
"I'm going for it."

At about 110 yards, I pegged the big turkey with my 10/22.
He flew up, we gave chase, and ended his life with respect and gratitude.

It was a huge tom turkey. Before cleaning he was easily 35 lbs.
I know, I had to haul his ass back up that hill.

After cleaning, he was still over 20lbs. It was the biggest turkey I had ever seen.

We brined him in a solution of sugar, salt, tarragon, rosemary, and pepper, then threw him on a smoker for about 6 hours.
It was the tenderest, tastiest, moistest turkey I've ever had.
My bro cleaned and salted the tail, and I took it as a trophy.

I stayed for a few days, having turkey quesadillas for Cinco de Mayo, and enjoying campfire circles with guitar, harmonica and song.

Making music together is something that connects us as human beings. It might not sound like the digitally mixed, pre-recorded everything of today, but it's got soul. It renews our connection.

Feeling entirely refreshed by the beautiful highland mountains, it was time to continue on my journey. My next and last big hurdle of the trip was looming ahead;
getting through the Babylon known as Los Angeles.

I Hope I'm Wrong

2009-06-10T01:02:00.002-05:00

I'm picking up on a disturbing undercurrent in many areas.
This video describes it aptly.
Dear God I hope this isn't in our future.

So Long, Seafood.

2009-06-09T22:02:00.003-05:00

Our poor oceans.
I knew this was happening, but it seems to have gone mainstream. It was actually on Yahoo via McClatchy.

Scientists: Global warming has already changed oceans

WASHINGTON — In Washington state, oysters in some areas haven't reproduced for four years, and preliminary evidence suggests that the increasing acidity of the ocean could be the cause. In the Gulf of Mexico, falling oxygen levels in the water have forced shrimp to migrate elsewhere.

http://www.mcclatchydc.com/226/story/69751.html

Smoke 'em if ya got 'em.

Prepper's Paradise

2009-06-04T12:41:00.003-05:00

I found an awesome store the other day. It's called Champion Grocery, and it's an independently owned outlet store. They have all sorts of stuff for cheap, much of it organic.
I got a huge bottle of shampoo for $1.65, various spices, juices and canned goods cheap.
But the best part was the grain area.
$25.00 for a 30# bag of organic whole Kamut (a type of wheat) $35.00 for a 50# sack of hard red winter wheat, good prices on corn, beans, rice, sugar, salt, all in large sacks.
I picked up some more black beans, barley, soybeans, and buckwheat as well.

The owner was also the cashier, and insisted on loading it all into the car for me.
Apparently he is doing quite well. They were sold out of 50# wheat, so he ordered it for me.

Sold out? Heh. This guy must know every prepper around here.

It was pretty sweet. I will definitely return if my meager income allows, though food is mostly covered. Next on the list is more fish hooks, needles, and a grain mill.

More posts on the journey coming soon. The laptop is being a bitch and not letting me upload photos. Time to hook up my old dinosaur PC and see if it trats me any better.

Travelog Day 7; the Raven, the Witch and the Canyon

2009-05-30T09:05:00.006-05:00

It was a relatively short drive from Lordsburg to my next stop in Arizona.
I was going to visit my friend M, who curiously enough lived in Green Valley, AZ.

M is a bit strange, but a good hearted guy and a prepper through and through.
Ask M anything you want to know about the fancy black guns from Russia or Romania, and you will get more information than you could possibly use.

I arrived in Green Valley early in the day, but thanks to the delay from mechanical problems, I arrived at the beginning of M's weekend.

Everything happens for a reason.

M. suggested we head for the hills and go up to Madeira canyon. At 5,400 feet it was much cooler than the valley, so we set off on the short drive up a VERY steep hill.

It was the first time the van had taken a grade this steep. She went slower, and slower....and slower.....
The temperature gauge was climbing. I turned off the AC and it leveled off at an acceptable medium. I downshifted to first, and she crawled up the hill.

It was 20 degrees cooler at the top of the mountain. We parked in the shade and dipped into the cooler for some beer.
We went for a walk near a little creek and saw lots of neat lizards and birds. Unfortunately I forgot my camera.

The creek was little more than a seep. It was the driest spring most people could remember. The oak trees were struggling, dropping leaves when they should be putting out new growth.

When we came back to the parking area, a very large raven was sitting on the picnic table near the van. He flew off as we approached.

We sat at the table and talked about Louisiana and how things seemed to be falling apart there. We talked about our country and how things were falling apart. We talked about the potential crash of the dollar and hyperinflation.
We talked about why I left the ex, who was M's friend before I knew M.

I spoke passionately about what I was feeling when I left (covered here in earlier posts) and about how I believed that I needed to live the future I seek for humanity.
I told M I was going to find community, where I could live with like minded people independently of most of the institutions and systems of civilization.

M has a place to run if TSHTF. His family has a remote location where they have been storing preps. I was happy to hear he had a good chance if things got bad quickly.

I reveled in how good it felt to be surrounded by trees and mountains again. It was a beautiful place.

The camera failed to capture the majesty of the place. It was just too big and amazing to fit in a little digital box.

As the sun sank lower, we headed back to the valley.
I got to take a real shower, with real pressurized hot water.
Pressurized hot water is one of my favorite things about civilization.

Feeling refreshed, we sat on the patio and drank beer with M's mom.
M's mom is a Christian witch. Odd as that may sound, the basic teachings of Christ and the fundamental precepts of Wicca are pretty much the same.

Most religions teach compassion and love as core values. It's such a shame something so beautiful and right could be so perverted into control systems to serve greed and ego.

We had a lively and stimulating conversation. Mom and I had a lot in common.
She loved plants, and had surrounded her small patio with fountains and foliage.
Despite the closeness of the neighbors she had her own private little grotto.

I was very impressed with number of food plants she managed to cram into such a small space.
Blueberries, strawberries, citrus, tomatoes, squashes, peppers, herbs...
I saw another edible plant peeking out everywhere I looked.
It was lovely.

All the cacti were blooming when I was there. As is typical for me, I took lots of plant pictures.

Comments

2009-05-28T10:20:00.002-05:00

I'm still unable to comment on my own blog, but I enjoy comments and want to respond...

Publius, - a road trip is a great bonding experience for a family. A family car trip might be easier than a family boat trip. If you drive each other crazy, at least somebody can get out and walk away.
The ocean is a lot like a desert though in some ways. Maybe you could take a short road trip sometime soon...I hear the Little Rock, AR area is beautiful, and not too far from you.

Anon, - Thanks for the shower tips. Sponging under a poncho is a good idea. (I didn't have a poncho or a sponge tho..)
As far as squatting in a parking lot, I did purchase the Sani-Fem female urinary device, which came in very handy while I was playing mechanic. Standing between my doors, I peed like a man into a bottle, then watered the acasia tree.
I was close enough to civilization to find a potty for the serious business, but if I'm in the middle of nowhere I have no problem digging a hole and squatting.
Worst come to worst, I had the cat litter box in the van which could double as a sawdust toilet.

Hermit Jim, - Thanks for the praise! I'm glad you're enjoying my story. I'll think about the book - I'd love to write for a living.

Dragon, - I know dealers are a rip off. I don't know why I didn't trust myself to fix it in the first place. That experience resulted in a new rule... Nobody works on my Beast but ME.
No way would I buy a new (or newer than '93) Ford. My baby is old enough she was built in the US of A. It kills me to have to replace her solid old parts with cheaply made chinese or mexican parts and metals.
Part of the reason I bought this vehicle was the injectors were easy to get to and cost $50 apiece instead of $140 apiece. Good call on my part. Poor Rube Vigor is stranded in CA with an estimate for $3,000 to change injectors and pump.
What's got you tearing your hair out?

Thanks for the comments everybody. Just because I don't respond doesn't mean I don't care.
It just means I'm computer illiterate and don't have enough patience to learn.

Travelog Day 6; Shade Tree Mechanic

2009-05-27T19:29:00.002-05:00

Bright and early, I headed to the auto parts store to get my new injectors.
Turns out NAPA is next door to the Ford dealership where Bilbo Baggins works.
I parked in the meager shade of a skimpy acasia tree in a vacant parking lot just outside the Ford dealer's back gate.

In truth, this was to be withing walking distance of NAPA in case I needed a tool or additional parts.

It was an added bonus to let the Ford mechanics watch as I installed MY OWN injectors.

After watching my hobbitlike mechanic take two hours to remove one fuel line, and nearly break my air cleaner housing in the process, there wasn't a chance in hell I'd trust them with my injectors. (Or pay $75/hr labor to someone working slower and sloppier than me)

By 9 AM, I got out my tools, opened my trusty Haynes manual, and got to work.

First I used duct tape to label all eight fuel lines with the cylinder number. Then I set about removing them.
I loosened the connections to the injectors, then had to remove the lines from the injector pump, which is an octopus lookin' thing mounted to the front of the engine block.

Now I understand why people say vans are hard to work on. Most of the time I was sitting on my center console with my legs spread to either side of the engine compartment. This position is really only comfortable for about an hour.

Why didn't I keep up with doing yoga????

In the same amount of time it took Bilbo to remove one fuel line, I had them all out.
The next step was to remove the fuel return lines, but that was easy, they just wiggle-pulled off.
Then the injectors were unscrewed out of the block, and the new ones installed. Seating new O rings on the new injectors was probably the trickiest part of this whole operation.

I got them in and torqued down, then reinstalled the fuel supply and return lines.

There was a moment of panic when I couldn't find all eight of the little rubber caps covering the tips of the new injectors. If I installed an injector without taking the cap off I was gonna be REALLY pissed.

But I found it in a crack under the seat.

I was going to change my fuel filter at this time, but my hands were shaking and I was getting angry at the filter wrench.
About this time I realized it was 5PM and I hadn't eaten anything all day. No wonder I was exhausted.

The van took forever to crank since I'd drained the fuel lines and it had vapor lock.

Rrrr, Rrrrr, Rrrrr.....
My starting batteries were dying.
Rrrrr, Rrrr, Rrrrr.....
I jumped them off my house batteries.
Rrrrr, Rrrrrr, Rrrrrr....COUGH!

"Come on baby, you can do it!"

Rrrrr...Cough, choke
VAROOOMMM!!!!!!

Yay!!!!!!!

I was at the end of my rope. Too exhausted to put the engine cover back on, I tossed it in the passenger seat and drove back to my shady parking spot.

Noting I had a couple fuel leaks, I collapsed into bed and slept through the night.

In the morning I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I was sore EVERYWHERE.
I tightened the leaking fittings, replaced the engine cover and took the Beast for a spin around town.

The noise was gone.

I fixed it.

It kicked my ass, but I changed my own injectors in about 8 hours.

I fueled up and hit the road, glad to be on my way once again.

Stealth Shower

2009-05-26T22:06:00.007-05:00

I slept soundly in the parking lot next to the post office. Maybe because I was clean for the first time in nearly a week.

I took a shower in the parking lot, and it was actually quite pleasant.

There was a conveniently abandoned concrete pad next to the vacant warehouse on the south side of the van that was hot as an oven by 1:00 PM, and earlier in the day I had filled my sun shower and set it in the desert sun to warm up.

So after it got dark I took a stealth shower.

It was quite exciting.

I opened the passenger doors on the van and stood between them for privacy. The side they opened out to faced the blank wall of the warehouse, and I was somewhat sheltered by the pines and sumac tree surrounding the van.

I was still, however, buck naked in an unfamiliar parking lot in a very small town in the desert.

I have a sun shower that pressurizes with a foot pump, so I washed my hair first while I was still partially clothed. I have a LOT of hair and it takes a while to wash. Then I stripped, soaped up and rinsed off, with just enough water to finish. The desert gets quite cool at night, so the thought of being discovered wasn't the only reason I was quick.

As I washed, the cats took advantage of the open doors to sneak out and go exploring.
I saw them get out, but I was naked, what could I do?

I dried off and got dressed, and when I called the cats they came back and jumped in the van.

At 9 PM, this particular block of this little town gets quite deserted. I'm surrounded by a bank, city hall/library/police station(all in one building), the post office, a vacant lot, and an abandoned warehouse. So it's fairly secure, yet quiet at night. I did worry about getting hassled by cops for parking here, but no one seems to care. I think the occasional drifter/van dweller rolling through is not an unusual phenomenon in the little town of Lordsburg.

Travelog Day 5; Lateral Drift

2009-05-26T11:45:00.003-05:00

Well, the part came and was installed by Bilbo Baggins.
The engine sounded fine with the cover off, but naturally as soon as I paid the bill and drove away with the cover in place, the knocking noise was still there.

Crap.

I drove around town for a little while, listening to the noise and looking for a shady place to park. While I listened, I was asking the van to tell me what was wrong with it. My initial panicky thoughts of severe engine damage had run their course, so I took some time to really listen and think.

Whenever I attack a mechanical issue, I try to start by fixing the easiest, most obvious things first. I went through a mental checklist of my fuel system, and decided to replace my injectors.
Replacing them was something I'd wanted to do before I left on my journey, but I ran out of money and time.
The van has nearly 150K miles on it, so it is about time for new injectors anyway.

Fortunately, you can't throw a rock in this town without hitting an auto parts store or service center. I think there must be some kind of mechanical vortex here that causes vehicles to break down.
There seems to be a plethora of churches too, so I guess you can pray you won't be ripped off too badly while you wait for your car to get fixed.

I went to NAPA and ordered new injectors for $56.00 each. (Ford wanted $75 each)
At this point in my journey I had about $200.00 left, and that was to buy diesel.
Fortunately the Bank of Mom came to my rescue and bought me new injectors.

The parts would arrive in the morning, so I drove to a shady place across from the post office and snuggled the van up underneath the light shade of some tall spindly pines.
This was actually a really nice spot. The pines were on my passenger side, and there was a little gravel road running behind a warehouse beyond the pines.
It was really as private and shaded as I could ask for in this little desert town.

I settled down to continue reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, and was amazed at how much more I was getting out of this book the second time around.

For those who haven't read it, it isn't so much about motorcycles, or maintenance, although those are in there.

It's more about a Journey to find Truth.
It's about questioning very fundamental assumptions about how we do things and why.

It questions the nature and foundations of rational thought itself.

It came to me that this situation I found myself in was a sort of lateral drift of my own, and probably a necessary and valuable experience.

The best way to explain about lateral drift is in Robert Pirsig's own words;

"In a laboratory situation, when your whole procedure goes haywire, when everything is wrong or indeterminate or is so screwed up by by unexpected results you can't make head or tail of anything, you start looking laterally. That's a word he later used to describe a growth of knowledge that doesn't move forward like an arrow in flight, but expands sideways, like an arrow enlarging in flight; or like the archer, discovering that although he has hit the bull's-eye and won the prize, his head is on the pillow and sun is coming in the window.
Lateral knowledge is knowledge that's from a wholly unexpected direction, from a direction that's not even understood as a direction until the knowledge forces itself upon one.
Lateral truths point to the falseness of axioms and postulates underlying one's existing system of getting to the truth."

So with thoughts such as these, I drifted.
I enjoyed this quiet time beneath the pines to read and think.
I was thankful for my life and experiences so far on this journey.

When I talked to my friends, they seemed shocked to hear I was so positive about being stranded in this desert town.
Life is 10% of what you experience, and 90% of your attitude towards it.

So I will enjoy this day of rest and reflection. Tomorrow will be lots of work, changing out the injectors.

Memorial Day

2009-05-24T12:48:00.003-05:00

I have a tremendous amount of respect and gratitude for the men and women that have fought (and are fighting) for this country.
But let's not kid ourselves.
We aren't fighting for freedom anymore.
We are fighting for the remaining world resources (oil) to help support our military industrial complex and a few wealthy elites.

It hasn't been about freedom for a long time.

We all need to take a good hard look at who is actually responsible for eroding our freedoms and pursuit of happiness...

Hint; they aren't overseas.

Travelog day 4; What's That Noise?

2009-05-23T11:54:00.003-05:00

I was making good time.
I still had a tail wind across most of New Mexico, and I thought I could make it to Arizona before stopping for the night.

Unfortunately, about 15 miles from the AZ border near Lordsburg, NM, the engine started to make a knocking noise. It was loud enough I could hear it over the radio, which is typically cranked way up so I can hear it over the wind and engine.

I slowed down, thinking I had thrown a rod or something equally horrible.

The noise slowed down along with the engine, meaning it was definitely IN the engine.

Crap.

Fortunately, the noise started about 10 seconds after I passed a billboard for a Ford Service Center exit 1 mile.
How convenient.
I let the van slow down even more as I approached the exit. The knocking noise got louder with acceleration, but I didn't seem to be losing power.
I limped into the Ford Dealership, and was told that everyone had gone to lunch but someone would be take a look at it soon.

I opened an emergency beer and consulted my Diesel Repair manual's troubleshooting guide.
Hmmm.... bad fuel? Nah.
Injector pump? Gawd I hope not, and I didn't lose power so probably not.
Injectors? Quite possibly. She had been giving me some trouble starting warm.

As I removed the engine cover, a little hobbit of a man came over to take a look.
He peered around in the engine compartment with a flashlight and mirror.
The cats were terrified by this strange person invading their van. They hid in the bowels of the cargo hold.

The mechanic determined I had a cracked fuel line which was the cause of the noise.
I was doubtful, but hey, he was the Ford mechanic.

They had to order the part, it would be in tomorrow. The fuel line had been pulled out, so I couldn't drive anywhere. They offered to get me a motel.
"I don't have money for a motel. Can't I just sleep in your parking lot? Think of me as free security."
After consulting the Big Kahuna, I was OK'd to sleep in the parking lot of the dealership.
I passed the rest of the day drinking the remainder of my emergency beers and re-reading 'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance' which is a fabulous book that was eerily appropriate to my situation.

My little kitchen, with the stove set up.

Radio

2009-05-22T13:30:00.002-05:00

Hey Publius,
I found my dad's old shortwave radio...circa 1950's.
I saw your comment on the archdruid report. E-mail me at maitreya.beast@gmail.com, I'd like to chat with you about vacuum tubes....
I can't even comment on your blog now...am I being blacklisted? or just paranoid?
(Damn this comment form issue)

Comments

2009-05-22T12:13:00.002-05:00

Thanks for the comments, guys.
Glad to see you visiting.
I've tried to respond several times, but my own comment forum won't let me comment.
Bastard! I think it's some 'clearwater' program interfering with my 'post as' name.
Anyway, don't think I don't read comments or don't care, I just have to figure the damn thing out.
Thanks!

Travelog Day 3; The Dead Zone

2009-05-22T10:21:00.004-05:00

During the night a very strong line of thunderstorms came through. The lightning flashed almost continuously, like a strobe light.
The Ranger came through the camp ground warning everyone that we were under a tornado watch.
I tried not to think about a tornado coming near the van. My recent dream about it was graphic enough.

The rain was loud on the van's metal roof. At one point it hailed.
I sat up for a while watching the weather, then finally fell asleep sometime after midnight when it calmed down a bit.

With the odometer at 146749, I left camp in a light rain, and forgot my stone knife on the picnic table. :( Oh well.
I drove through several lines of thunderstorms as I continued west. The rain was so heavy at times people pulled over onto the shoulder of the freeway to wait it out.
I plowed on at 35 mph.

I stopped to use a pay phone to check in with my 'safety net'. I hadn't had cell phone service since before camping at the river. I had to check in at least every other day. If two full days went by, somebody would start looking for me.

Eventually I passed through all the storms. They were headed east, while I was headed west. As the sun came out the land changed again.

Nothing much grows in west Texas. It is very dry. Scrubby tumbleweeds, the occasional chapparal or sagebrush; even the prickly pears didn't seem to like this area much.

This is when you start to realize exactly how big Texas is.
Nothing for miles.
Not a town.
Not a phone.
Not even an edible plant.
And no cell service.

This is why I brought 15 gallons of water with me.
If I broke down or got stranded out here, it could be bad.

I tried really hard not to think about that.
I just drove.

About 40 miles away from El Paso, I got cell service again.
The amount of relief I felt from knowing I could contact civilization shocked me a little.
Have I become that dependent on this technology?

Maybe I would just make different choices if the technology wasn't available.
Like choosing NOT to travel by myself through the most godforsaken stretch of desert I've seen since I'd visited Nevada.

The sun was low in the sky as I crossed into New Mexico.
I stopped at the rest area that serves as the New Mexico welcome center.

As rest areas go, this one was excellent.
It was set above and well back from the freeway, so noise was limited.
It had beautiful desert landscaping; blooming ocotillo cactus, false bird of paradise, several varieties of yucca, and a few plants or cactus I didn't know names for.

Ocotillo cactus

The area was surrounded by smallish mountains that loomed in the distance, and the setting sun lit them with shades of gold, orange and purple.

I put Bob cat on his harness and let him explore a bit. He drug me through some cactus before getting freaked out and hopping back into the safety of the van.

With the odometer at 147009 and relieved to be through Texas, I went to bed early, and the van and I got some much needed rest.

Travelog Day 2; Down by the River

2009-05-21T09:39:00.008-05:00

It was an easy drive across east Texas. It was smooth sailing through Houston, with no traffic at 10AM. Out of Houston, I had a good tail wind and found several big rigs going just the right speed for me to surf their wake.
The speed limit was 70, but the van's cruising speed is between 60 and 65. No need to push my old beast harder than necessary.
The cats complained a bit in the morning, but soon settled into the rhythm of the road and fell asleep.

As I traveled west, the countryside changed into gentle rolling hills populated by prickly pear, yuccas and honey locust. Everything seemed to be blooming, and a light elusive fragrance filled the air. Many sections of the road had been cut straight through the little hills, leaving artificial cliffs with colorful layers of rock.

It was still early when I decided to take a rest at South Llano River State Park, near Junction, TX. My intention was to take a nap, then travel on, since I had not slept well the night before.
As I crossed the little river it was a beautiful shade of turquoise. All the rivers in south Louisiana are the same shade of mud brown.
I stopped at the ranger station to inquire about camping. At $17.00 it seemed a little steep, but the river and the countryside were so beautiful I decided to go for it and spend the night.

I found a nice shady campsite so as not to fry the cats. The sun was still high, I had stopped early; about 2:30pm.
I was quite tired, but I had to see the river. I walked through a field where wild turkeys roosted in the evening, past a pond, and through a grove of wild pecans before finding the river.

Startled turtles plopped into the water as I peered down at bass and sunfish cruising through the shallows.
It had been years since I'd seen a clear rocky stream. I scrambled down the bank to test the water with my toes. It was a very pleasant temperature, and I nibbled some watercress I found growing at the water's edge.

As I walked back through the pecan grove, I mulled the extremely difficult decision I was now faced with; should I
A. Take a nap
B. Go fishing
C. Go for a swim

Boy, life is rough.

I was tired, but I couldn't resist that river. Clear rocky streams are one of my favorite things. Since my tackle box was buried in the van I decided to go swimming.

The water was just cool enough to be refreshing. I had my goggles, so I snorkeled for a bit, watching the fish. When I dove under, I realized I could hear them. I thought only salt water fish made noise; I heard them a lot in Key West. But there was the same unmistakable popping noise in this river. It sounds like someone banging rocks together underwater. I swam to a deep area, following the noises, then dove to the bottom and startled several large bass who swam away quickly in alarm. The fish noises stopped briefly, then resumed farther upstream.

After a thrilling ride down the rapids on my belly, I sat on a driftwood log to rest and warm up in the sun. I had the place to myself. I couldn't see or hear any evidence of other humans.

It was GREAT.

I noticed a strange glassy type of rock on the riverbank, and broke it with other rocks to make a crude but very sharp stone knife. Hungry now, I wandered back to camp in a foraging mood.
Wild turkeys gobbled in the distance as I cut some prickly pear pads with my new stone knife. I found some new shoots of catbriar (smilax spp.) and snipped them off too.

I sauteed both veggies in olive oil with a little salt and pepper. The smilax shoots tasted like asparagus, but a bit milder. The prickly pear was good too, but turned slimy as it got cold.
To get some starch and protein, I made red beans and rice with spam.
Deer wandered through my campsite as I ate, competing with the jack rabbits for tender new grass.

Life was good.

A pretty wildflower

There's a carp in this picture, can you see him?

The view from camp

Travelog Part 1; Texas

2009-05-20T13:47:00.004-05:00

After a flurry of last minute packing, I finally threw the cats in the van and left around noon on a saturday in April.

Worries lay heavy on my mind.
What if I got stranded in the desert?
What if I got trouble from the fuzz?
What if the van got broken into?

I said a quick prayer, asking for protection from delays, breakdowns and unwanted intrusions. I took a deep breath, and rolled out.

The odometer read 145866, and I didn't expect to make many miles since I left so late.
I drove past the cypress swamps, over the long bridges, past the floating camps and the petrochemical plants.

I said my last goodbyes to the savage garden of Louisiana.

There are many wonderful things about that area, but there is always a feeling of something hidden and sinister; some poisonous desperation that comes perhaps from living in such an impossible place.

Goodbye, city below sea level.

30 miles east of Houston, I stopped for the night at a truck stop.
There was a small area on the fringes of truck parking that was just the right size for my van. I made sure I wasn't blocking anyone or taking up too much space. I have a lot of respect for truckers, and it is a general policy of mine not to piss them off.
Unfortunately, my spot was near the entrance, and happened to be downwind from both the fueling station and the truck parking.
It was an uneventful night, though not exactly restful. All night long the trucks rolled in past the van, and in the morning I was shocked I hadn't been poisoned in the night by diesel fumes.

With the odometer at 146197, I got an early start and headed deeper into the Great Republic of Texas.

I'm back!

2009-05-19T11:40:00.002-05:00

Hello to all out there in the blogosphere. I bet y'all thought I'd disappeared for good.
The trip took longer than anticipated, and I had many grand adventures. I made it safely to washington state, and once I have an opportunity to load my pictures onto this computer, I will be making a series of posts chronicling my adventure.

I've been busy moving my few belongings into my new room, helping Mom get her garden planted, and getting the kitties adjusted to their new home and to two kitties who already live here.

A few things I learned on my trip;
Sleep upwind of truck parking areas if possible, and never trust mechanics at dealerships.

More later....

Take me Home

2009-04-22T16:10:00.001-05:00

My Solution

2009-04-22T15:22:00.004-05:00

Part of my intention for this blog was help shape a positive future.

I haven't been doing much of that, hung up on the van and assorted mechanical problems, and for that I apologize.

But now I am free to go in search of my Green Valley.
I believe that after attitude, community is the most critical factor to survival.

I need to find my Tribe.

I want to be far away from the cities. I want to leave this culture of fear and death and poisons.

I want to greet the dawn with the birds, smell dew on the grass, and feel the plants and the forests living around me.
I want to let the sun shine on my face every day, and give thanks.

I will no longer sign contracts I don't understand.
I will no longer be a wage slave.
I will no longer pay taxes.
I will no longer buy useless crap.
I will no longer be a victim of circumstance.
I will not take water or food for granted.
I will not take my life for granted.
I will not take my freedom for granted.

I will take resposibility for my life and its direction.
I will raise much of my own food.
I will generate my own electricity.
I will grow my own fuel.
I will cultivate community with honest, hard working people.
I will cultivate a local barter economy with my neighbors.

I am opting out.
If I no longer feed the beast system, it will get weaker.

I'm fortunate to have found a few groups of like minded people who've already got a good start on opting out.
Sorry, I can't tell where.
Everybody has to find the community that is right for them.
Or cultivate the community they are already a part of.

We need each other to survive successfully. And we need RESPECT to survive as a group. We need RESPECT to survive within our ecosystem.

We must live the future we seek.

I'm off to find a better way.

She Rides

2009-04-22T14:13:00.004-05:00

I found the mysterious second solenoid, right over the headlight on the passenger side.
After poking around with the multi-meter, I determined that the solenoid was good, but the little red and blue wire that fed it power from the switch wasn't getting power.
So I bypassed it.
I'm not sure if I bypassed the ignition switch or the neutral start switch (or both), but since it cranks and runs, I really don't care.

Now I have a push button ignition.

Ghetto engineering at its finest.

I still have some packing to do, and a quick fan install over the bed (it's mighty still back there) but I should be able to finish up today and be on my way tomorrow.
YAY!!!

Fkn-A

2009-04-20T16:54:00.002-05:00

I am annoyed right now.
After pulling the starter, I took it to Auto Zone and they tested it.
It was bad, so I replaced it. ($150.00)

The van still won't crank.
It doesn't even turn over.
I think the ignition switch is still good, the glow plugs come on, and when I try to start it the dash light dims, so the starter should be getting power.

I guess I'll try the neutral-start switch next.
I'm gonna have a brand new van by the time I'm done.....
Though I may run out of money before I even get on the road.

Dammit.

2009-04-17T21:04:00.006-05:00

The ex BF's friends came into town last night.
I guess now they're my friends too, since they are Good People.
Last night the conversation turned to the state of the world today.
I had quite a few beers, and and my mouth decided to run away and scare the sheeple.
I'm afraid I went into a bit of a rant.

I ranted about the oceans acidifying, about 260DB sonic tests for oil exploraton in the ocean (it only takes 140DB to kill a human, and sound travels much better underwater)
I ranted about government oppression, and how the whole system needed to be replaced.

"This isn't right. We're not meant to live like this. We are so separate. For thousands of years we lived in communal family groups.
We respected the land.
It is only in the last 100 years or so that we have become so isolated.
We might have all this fun, easy stuff, but there is something missing.
Something fundamentally HUMAN.
We are so disconnected. From each other, from our environment, from our reality.
I think there is a better way. And I'm gonna go find it."

Fortunately, the West Coasters are not sheeple, and actually took my rant somewhat seriously.
The friend I consider my Sister could see that I was talking about building a new paradigm. She was interested and excited.

But on the way home I got bitched out by the ex.

"They're here to have a good time! We don't need to talk about all that gloom and doom sht. Let them have a fun vacation."
"You're right. I'm sorry. I know that stuff bothers you. I will make an effort not to talk about it in your presence."

He's sheeple.
What a turnoff.
He is so blind. So deep in denial. But I can't change that.
I can only leave, and live the future I seek.
What is really frustrating is that he's not stupid. He sees what is going on, and knows how wrong it is. He just chooses to ignore it.
He told me once that if things ever got got THAT bad when TSHTF, he would just put one of those guns in his mouth and call it a day.

When the he said that, it was the end of the relationship.

A few years back my dad took his own life. I've made peace with it now, but it changed me.
I can't let anyone matter so much it would kill me to lose them.

I can understand allowing someone to follow their own path, but I WILL NOT STAND BY AND WATCH YOU KILL YOURSELF.

I will be gone. Following my own path.
I intend to survive.

Issues

2009-04-17T20:14:00.003-05:00

I think maybe the van doesn't want to leave Louisiana.
I got the vacuum pump put in, and the short test drive was great, but next time I tried to crank it up, the motor turned over, then just stopped.
No click, no spinning starter noise, nothing.

I put the battery charger on it overnight, hoping it was weak batteries, but knowing better. Today I tried jumping the solenoid to crank it, and no go.
The starter gear may be jammed in the ring gear, or my neutral start switch could be bad. Jumping the solenoid ought to bypass that though.

I didn't have a universal joint for my socket set, and the starter bolts are tricky enough that I need one. I got one from Auto Zone, but ran out of light before I could try it.

Maybe I just need to accept that I won't be leaving Monday. My brother was supposed to fly in tonight and keep me company on the first leg of my journey, but he is really sick and can't make it. I had to leave Monday to get him back to his work outside San Diego by the 24th. I guess I'm kind of relieved he can't come out, though I was looking forward to travelling with him.

It is frustrating to have all these issues when I'm so ready to hit the road. But I guess I'll just roll with it. Everything happens for a reason.
Que sera' sera'.

It does sort of seem especially cruel to leave the ex BF at the same time his out of town friends leave.
One year, after spending a wonderful holiday with my family, I went back to my house in Louisiana, and the silence was deafening. I've always been able to handle being by myself. But in winter, after feeling the warmth of my family, it was especially painful to be all alone again.

But come on, van! Work, dammit! I want to find my tribe!

How I'm Feeling Now

2009-04-17T01:50:00.001-05:00

Final Preps

2009-04-16T15:36:00.002-05:00

The vacuum pump is installed, and once again my Beast runs like a dream.
While I was under the hood, I tightened up all the belts, as they had stretched some since I'd changed them.

Then I took a test drive to Auto Zone to stock up on fluids and filters.

Conveniently, Auto Zone is in the same parking lot as Harbor Freight and Sav-a-lot.
I went into Harbor Freight looking for a magnetic paper towel holder, and came out with that, a fire extinguisher, a cast iron griddle (I couldn't resist) and some pepper spray (wouldn't hurt to have some non lethal force).
All useful items, but I didn't expect to spend that much.

At Sav-a-lot I got some final food preps; mostly water, noodles, snacks for the road, coffee and canned milk.

All that's left is organizing and packing the food, cooking, and 12volt gear.
I have 3 large rubbermaid tubs. One for dishes/foil/cooking utensils, one for food, and one for fuel/batteries/flashlights/bug spray, etc.
Snack foods and things I want easy access to (small inverter, phone charger, camera) goes in a fabric bag stashed under a front seat. Four 1gal jugs of water fit under the other seat.

My OCD (obsessive compulsive disorter) side is coming out.
I made a sketch of the van cargo holds, and anything that gets packed is written on the sketch so I can find it later.
The rubbermaid tubs are numbered, and each has a corresponding inventory list of contents.
People have alternately laughed at me and been very impressed by this level of organization. They laugh when they hear about it, but they're very impressed when they need something and I not only have it, but know exactly where it is.

Almost done. I won't need to be in evacuation panic mode much longer....

New Pulley

2009-04-15T17:07:00.005-05:00

After some good advice in the comments section, and the helpful folks over at Ford Truck Enthusiasts forum, I determined that the old pulley was toast and ordered a new one from Ford ($75.00) to go with the new vacuum pump from Auto Zone ($100.00)

The old pulley was pretty messed up after I reamed on it, beat on it, heated it with a torch, and beat on it more. It was rusty anyway.
The pulley installer/puller kit I got from Harbor Freight ($14.00) didn't quite fit under the flange on the pulley to remove it. Somebody on Ford Truck Enthusiasts suggested grinding it down so it fits. Good idea, but a project for another day, now.
Here is the puller kit, next to the new pump and pulley.

After a 4 hour bus trip to and from the Ford dealer, I retrieved my pulley, and with a little figuring and much clamping and elbow grease got it pressed onto the pump. The Ford dealership wanted at least $70 to put it on, and I think the service guys were annoyed that I was doing my own work instead of letting them rip me off.
I DON'T trust dealers. Been there, been screwed.

I'll install the pump tomorrow. That will be easy compared to the pulley ordeal. Now I have to clean the house since company is coming in for French Quarter music festival.
The poor kitties know changes are afoot. They follow me around meowing at me.

Fluffy kitty Cleo says, "I know you're leaving and you're gonna take me with you if I have to stay permanantly attached to your suitcase."

Beating to Windward

2009-04-15T09:27:00.005-05:00

Ship analogies seem to be popping up everywhere lately. So I thought I'd add one, since I often think of my Beast of a van as a ship.

Sailboats cannot go directly into the wind. They must sail diagonally a few degrees off the wind, and "tack" to diagonally go the other direction and keep their course.
This is called beating to windward.

We all know we don't like the way things are shaping up in our country and world. We need to start talking about the world we want instead of bitching about the world we have. Coming to the realization that our government, economy, industry, environment, and current paradigm are going downhill fast was an important first tack into the wind. Now we need to make a second tack and really envision a positive future to take the place of systems that obviously don't work. The first step to creating a new reality is to envision what you want that reality to look like.

Last Saturday morning (before my fantasy turned to reality) I was walking back from the fabric store. A sign at an oil change place said "Your reality reflects your mindset." I though that was pretty deep for a Jiffy Lube, so I smiled, taking it as a sign, and went on my way. Lo and behold, apparently it was a sign.
Be careful what you wish for.

Sailing into the wind is usually not a very comfortable ride. It's windy, sometimes scary, and the waves break hard on the bow. But to get where you want to go, it is necessary.

We've been sailing downwind for too long. With the wind at your back, it is easy to become complacent. The temperature is pleasant, and you're surfing the waves.
Complacency is dangerous though. A sudden wind change, or a distracted captain can cause the boat to "jibe". A jibe is usually unexpected and often the deadliest thing that happens on a boat. The boom of the sail suddenly swings to the other side of the boat, knocking the complacent crew in the head.

We need to shake it off, and turn this boat around. Batten down the hatches, secure the cargo, and trim the sails, for there's a storm a' comin.

George Ure over at Urban Survival beat me to the "windward" post, though I thought of it several days ago. He has some pretty good suggestions for starting points;

"Wouldn't it be grand if had a national vision, meaning agreement on some very simple, easily action steps that virtually all of us could buy in to? Here are some thoughts, and while it's by no means complete, it's a starting point and you can add, or subtract, as you please:

America is going to be the first country to harvest the benefits of information technology. We are setting as our key objectives:

A 20-hour workweek (or)

A 40-hour workweek commanding a high enough wage such that only one family member need work to support a family of four.

We hold as a national objective the reinvention of the family as a solution to health and social ills.

In addition, we will offer incentives to families that care for aged relatives at home. We are going to value family values in a meaningful way instead of lip service.

We will achieve massive energy reduction though three major initiatives:

Ending regulations that are keeping small highly fuel efficient vehicles off our roads while in places like Europe that have proven their value.

Insulation retrofitting of every home in the country to reduce energy consumption by 50%.

Conversion of all lighting to energy efficient LED and other technologies.

Government will offer every family that lives off the grid for 30 days, or more, an income tax credit. The more off-grid time, the larger the tax credit.

We will establish an organic food supply and will achieve organic food independence again within five years.

These combined should reduce our dependence on foreign oil by 30% - or more.

We will require that every company selling manufactured goods in America demonstrate that all its workers, whether overseas, or in the US, are paid at least the applicable US minimum wage. Those companies which can not do so will be taxed in the amount equal to their exploitive labor practices and the revenue from that tax, equal to the amount of foreign worker underpayment, will fund unemployment and healthcare for American workers. And more; so great is the exploitation of developing country labor.

Further, we will require that any company doing business in America document its revenues coming from America and be taxed on those. Over the next ten years will will phase in a program whereby if a company sells goods in America, only expenses incurred in America will be allowed to offset that revenue before a revenue tax is applied..

We will reestablish sound money. We all know that the purchasing power of the US dollar has declined from $1 in 1913 to just 4.6-cents today. We are going to hold that value, and in doing so, we will again become a nation of savers. We will reinstitute gold and silver convertibility.

As we return to sound money, and the value of savings is restored, we will reinvest in American infrastructure. Except now, instead of making assembly line jobs, we are going to automate everything we can to harvest the bounty of technology.

We will institute a national usury law of 18%. This will apply to all companies, including and especially credit card operators.

American-English is the only language of the country and we will end all programs that are not part of a migration to our single tongue. While we respect differences of our cultural heritage, we must be able to communicate with one another.

We will set up a web site (www.redreamamerica.gov?) and we will find even more, better, and immediately actionable ideas.

Finally, we will create and install a system of government accountability with the following features:

We will strictly regulate lobbying with 100% disclosure and reporting.

We will ensure that no more legislation is ever passed that has not been read by each member of Congress voting on it.

We will install a recall system to hold Congress accountable and an online voting system, so that members of Congress can see what their home district wants at any time, and so that voters in the home district can see how their wishes are being carried out by folks who are supposed to represent them."

Read the whole post at http://www.urbansurvival.com/week.htm

Not everyone agrees on everything, of course, but EVERYONE has the responsibility to think about the future they would like to create, and start dialogues to determine our course for the future. It's obvious our "captain" is asleep at the helm, distracted by greed and power.
It's up to us.
You and me.
Words have great power, and visions even more so.
Be careful what you wish for.

I for one am beating to windward.
HEADS UP.......TACK!!!!!

Flower Power

2009-04-15T08:48:00.003-05:00

I woke up with this song in my head today.
The lyrics are as relevant now as they were back then.
As hippie as the video is, it made me cry.
I was born a flower child, after all.

It's the pictures of the children that really get to me.

Hi Big Bro

2009-04-14T23:15:00.002-05:00

Wow, everything just got
r e a l l y
s l o w

Hope everybody can read the fine print....

You GO, Texas.

2009-04-14T22:48:00.005-05:00

This is a line in the sand if I've ever seen one....
People are fed up, and the Republic of Texas has a Governor with enough balls to stand up and tell it like it is.

“I believe that our federal government has become oppressive in its size, its intrusion into the lives of our citizens, and its interference with the affairs of our state,” Gov. Perry said. “That is why I am here today to express my unwavering support for efforts all across our country to reaffirm the states’ rights affirmed by the Tenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. I believe that returning to the letter and spirit of the U.S. Constitution and its essential 10th Amendment will free our state from undue regulations, and ultimately strengthen our Union.”

http://governor.state.tx.us/news/press-release/12227/

Kudos to Mayberry at http://mayberry-keepitsimplestupid.blogspot.com/ and Old Lightning at http://yeoldfurt.blogspot.com/ for the links.

Kinda....surreal.....
Might be a good time to hit the road....

Vacuum Pump

2009-04-13T21:39:00.005-05:00

The vacuum pump should be an easy part to change out.
Nothing but 3 bolts, a belt and a hose.

But it's being a bitch.

The pulley won't come off the spindle of the old pump. I tried a two jaw puller, I tried a pulley puller/installer. I brought it to Auto Zone and they tried.
It must be frozen on there with rust. So I decided to drench it in PB Blaster and let it sit overnight with pressure from a puller on it.
If I can't break it free tomorrow, I'll be searching for parts.

I did get a lot of packing done today. It really is amazing how much stuff I can fit in my shelves and cargo holds. And since recent ecapades in the van have made it abundantly clear that I need curtains, I made some today.

There's 2 curtains on a rod between the cabin and cockpit/front seats, and I used my leftover Reflectix shiny bubble wrap to make black-out curtains for the side and rear windows. In addition to privacy, they will insulate the windows. I didn't want the shiny Reflectix to show on the outside; that would make it obvious that someone sleeps in the van.

We're going for incognito here.

I bought some black fabric Saturday, and after busting out the sewing machine, I encased the Reflectix panels in black fabric.
The Reflectix is sort of stiff, so by screwing picture hanger brackets in strategic spots around each window to hold it in, I can easily take the panels out for driving.
With the new black out curtains, it just looks like a dark van from the outside.
I was quite pleased with the result.
Curtains are a good security measure too. Not much stuff will be visible on the inside anyway,(it's in the cargo holds) but I still feel like it makes my ugly old van less of a target.

I leave a week from today. The panic is starting to set in; I haven't eaten anything all day. Too busy running around getting organized and cleaning.

"Just a few more weary days and then I'll fly away..."
-Allison Krause

Drunken Revelry

2009-04-13T08:36:00.003-05:00

Holy crap. Saturday night I partied like there was no tomorrow.
The batches of crawfish just kept coming. They must've boiled 7 bags. In the last batch they did some stone crab claws - the biggest I've ever seen - brought in by a shrimper friend.
The excellent food helped balance the number of beers I drank, but I really don't remember how many it was.
Somebody brought out a guitar, and everyone who was drunk enough (myself included) sang along to such classics as 'Long Haired Country Boy', 'American Pie' and 'Bad Moon Rising'.

As it got late, we sat around the fire and talked and laughed, and soon all but the hard core partiers had wandered off to bed.
It was a fabulous party.
My fantasy of christening the van bed with an attractive 20 something male even came true..... though I would've enjoyed it more if I hadn't been quite so inebriated.

Then tomorrow came. I think I'm getting too old for this shit. I must be paying some kind of karmic price for my debauchery, because the vacuum pump appears to have gone out in the van.
Crap.

Before and After

2009-04-10T19:03:00.004-05:00

OK, here it is;
BEFORE

AFTER

Not bad, eh?

Interior Pics

2009-04-10T13:07:00.004-05:00

View of the seat/storage locker from the back.

View of bed platform and seat from front of van.

View of hinged access to "cargo holds" in bed platform.

Hinged access to storage in seat.

As promised, here are pictures of the interior. It's still not 100% as I'm waiting for paint to dry on shelves and trim boards to hold the bed in place.
The sun is at the wrong angle to take pictures from the back, so later in the day I will post more.
The shallow storage area over the rubbermaid shelf will likely hold warm/bulky clothes and or raingear. There are shelves for food or books next to the rubbermaid shelf. You could smuggle a person in the deep cargo hold in the bed platform near the outside wall. The storage under the head of the bed is accessed by opening the back doors. That will be for camping/auto repair storage.

I'll start moving in this weekend. I'm using a system I learned from Bill Mollison's book on permaculture; The storage areas easiest to get to rate a "1" (center console, bench storage) while the most difficult rate a "4" (deep hold under bed).
Items I need to use regularly go into "1" compartments, and things I won't use on the trip (sentimental items, bulk food, 120v power tools) go into "4" storage.
Auto maintenance stuff like my hand tools and extra fluids rate a "2". Backup parts and assorted hardware are a "3", along with most camping stuff.
I'll have 'easy food', coffee, french press, stove and propane in a rubbermaid tub in the 'kitchen' area.
5 gallon jerryjugs of water will fit perfectly in the step for the side doors.

I still don't have the top for the battery box/center console done. I killed my RO sander yesturday while sanding the exterior of the van. Apparently I have more stamina for sanding than my little Craftsman random orbital.
It had a good life. :(
Working on vehicles tends to kill sanders pretty quickly. I went through 5 of them while refinishing the sailboat in Key West.

Well, I'm off to buy a new sander and brackets for my shelves.....

So Wrong

2009-04-09T11:09:00.002-05:00

Ok, I have to admit I find this whole Jeff Goldblum conversation hilarious.
So I'm gonna torture y'all with this video, just to prove I'm not the only crazy chick out there.
Jeff Goldblum is bringing Sexyback....
This girl has TOO much time on her hands.
Watch it or don't, it is pretty funny.

I have to say, I really prefer the younger, shaggy looking Jeff Goldblum to the older, cleancut cop look. Older and cleancut, he kinda looks like my dad.
Wait..... EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW......!!!!!

Don't worry, I should be done with the interior of the van later today or tomorrow, and will post pics.

The Natives are Restless

2009-04-09T08:50:00.005-05:00

Yesturday was an interesting day. It was errand running day, and I stopped for breakfast at the Fat Hen Grill, recommended by a friend.
It was good southern cooking, and I perused the paper, reading about our corrupt politicians, various shootings and killings throughout the area, and a 20 year old girl who drowned her baby in Lake Ponchartrain after giving birth alone in a bedroom.

It's been a while since I've read or watched the news, and I wasn't as desensitized to it as I used to be. I felt very sad.
After a while, a man in the medical profession sat a few stools down, and started talking to the waitress about health care. They were both angry about the cost of treatments and prescriptions, and talked about how the medical system didn't give a crap about people, we were just there to make money for it.
The man said the heads of Big Pharma ought to be stripped and hung from their male parts.
I almost voiced my agreement at this point, but when I open my mouth lately, it tends to run away and spook the sheeple. I just stared at my grits, and thought about how it doesn't have to be this way.

After the bank, the Salvation Army (to dump the rest of my stuff), and the tobacco shop (ACK! a can of roll yer own is up to $40, from $18 a month ago), I was passing by the bar where my friend works. I stopped in to see if she was there. I was worried about her, she had to file chapter 13 bankruptcy to avoid foreclosure. Her world seemed to be crumbling, and I hoped to comfort her.

She was not at the bar, so after chatting with the regulars, I left. I stepped out the door, and a train was coming down the tracks next to the bar.
The hair rose on my neck and arms when I saw the train was loaded with tanks. There seemed to be about 4 different models, probably about 40 tanks in all. They looked like they had been sitting out of service for a while, and were followed by a tanker of phosphoric acid (used to remove rust). The train was headed north.

After a productive afternoon of finish work on the van, I was watching the History channel. In a series about the 7 deadly sins, they were on envy. It raised some interesting questions. Is envy learned or hard wired? Can certain types of envy be good?
They cited the French Revolution as envy of the rich by the poor, and the betrayal/murder of Caesar as envy for Caesar's power.

I don't think revolution is produced by envy. I think it's produced by the downtrodden and oppressed finally defending themselves against the oppressors.
But maybe that's just my proletarian viewpoint...

Watch out PTB, even the sheeple now want you strung up by your male parts.....

Moving sale

2009-04-05T13:52:00.003-05:00

I did really well with the sale. It was stressful preparing for it, but I made over $700.00. And it feels great to get rid of stuff. It makes me realize that this is really happening, I'm really doing it, not just endlessly working on a van.
I've got a little of the interior to finish this week, a lick and a promise paint job, and bypass the temperature sensor for the glow plugs.
There's a sweet spot where the engine is not warm enough to start without glow plugs, but too warm to turn on the glow plugs. So I'll just install a switch, and I can turn on the glows when I want them to turn on.
I'm almost on my way, and now I have money to get there.
WOO HOO!!!!
Things are going great, and to top it all off I had a naughty dream about Jeff Goldblum last night. Mmmmm.... Jeff Goldblum.....
Now I've gotta go watch Earth Girls Are Easy.
Sorry guys, it's been over 3 months now. In about 14 days anything male will start to look really good...

Van Report

2009-03-31T18:29:00.005-05:00

Bed supports screwed to the floor

Upright for bench bulkhead bolted to ceiling frame (near side doors)

Upright for bed platform bolted to ceiling frame (at back of van in center)

I took last weekend off.
My dreams have been telling me I need to be more present to the here and now, and worry less.
And I'm almost done with the interior.
I got everything framed in (except for 'kitchen' shelves, they may have to wait)
and most of the plywood cut out to close in the cargo areas.
People have been asking for more pics, so....
The interior structure of the van consists of five upright 'wall studs' that are bolted or fiberglassed to the frame of the van, and two horizontal beams in the bed bolted to the frame. Each upright is also attached to the floor with angle brackets.
The bench and bed platform are attached to the bolted down frame members with 2 1/2" coated exterior decking screws.

The bed platform on the port side is 39" wide, 27" tall, and about 8' long. This is enough room to fit my twin air mattress, with a little extra near the head of the bed for bookshelves.
The bed platform is actually 5 pieces of plywood. Two are fixed, and the remaining 3open on a hinge to access cargo areas. The cargo area under the head of the bed (fixed piece toward tail of van) will be accessed by opening the back doors. I spent a good amount of time yesturday sanding and painting the plywood for the bed platform. I don't want any splinters to stab my air mattress. Waking up to a flat bed really sucks.
The bench on the starboard side of the van is about 5' long and 16" wide, by 20" tall. It also has 2 hinged panels that serve as the seat and allow access to storage below. It is wide and tall enough to accomodate 5g. buckets, and leaves a path between the bench and bed that is approximately 15" wide.
Today I finished insulating the ceiling and reinstalled the head liner (which was a major pain in the ass). I also used acetone to clean the remnants of Katrina mold off the trim pieces, repainted them, cut them to fit around my uprights and reinstalled them. Then I ran off to the Big Orange Box store to get piano hinge (AKA continuous hinge) for my storage access panels.
I also purchased a gallon of gloss white Rustoleum enamel for the outside of the van.
I wanted to give the van a cool paint job, but at this point I only care that isn't so ugly I get harassed across Texas. So it will get a half assed, roll on paint job.
Here is what the interior looks like now (before all access panels and cargo panels are installed)

It isn't easy to take good pictures of the inside of a van, but it's really coming together. I may just pull this off yet.
I can work on the van for the next two days, then Friday I need to clean/organize/get ready for a major garage sale this weekend.

Beauty

2009-03-30T11:48:00.002-05:00

Life is a miracle.
Don't forget to stop and smell the roses once in a while.

2009-03-27T11:33:00.001-05:00

Mad as Hell

2009-03-27T11:03:00.001-05:00

End Game

2009-03-27T09:11:00.005-05:00

I'm reading End Game by Derrick Jenson. Wow.
This book makes me horrified and angry beyond words. It makes even someone as comitted to surviving as I am consider doing the planet a favor by offing themselves.
(I only briefly thought about it.)
Everything I saw last night made me angry.
I was watching Modern Marvels on the History channel (Bulletproof) and an ad for the logging show Axe Men came on. I can't watch that show. It hurts me to watch the hills around my Green Valley be stripped of life, and to watch the process be glorified.
I said as much, and the Ex said "As long as they replant, it's OK. Without lumber we have no new houses, no growth." This is precisely the kind of attitude Derrick Jensen rails against.
"Maybe we shouldn't be growing anymore."

It was obvious he didn't understand. Didn't WANT to understand. He kept arguing, I kept grunting non-commitally.
Then Modern Marvels 'The Lumberyard' came on. More death. I went away. I couldn't watch it.
I looked at the internet, and saw an article about regulating banks, and how there should be worldwide standards and a Global Oversight Committee. Global Bank?

"This is it. We've reached the border. This is it. The New World Order."
Clutch - "Juggernaut"

Then the Dark Lord came on the TeeVee. Wow, he's letting real people like you and I ask questions in a "town hall" forum. Our government really DOES care about the little people. I feel so warm and fuzzy inside. Obammy GOOD......
NOT!
Don't think for a minute all those people weren't selected beforehand, so they could only ask questions that continue to distract us from the real issue.

NO MORE GROWTH!!!

WE ARE KILLING THE PLANET!!!

THERE WILL NOT BE ANYTHING LEFT FOR OUR CHILDREN BUT SLAVERY AND SOYLENT GREEN AND MANUFACTURED "AIR"!!!

Oh wait, I forgot. That is exactly what TPTB want.
No more Salmon, or lobsters, or trees, or clear trout streams. No more tigers, or bees, or apples, or whales, or pumpkins.

Will our children be as blind to the horror of their existance as we are to ours? Will they just accept that "it's the way things are?"
If I live to see it, I WILL off myself. And I'll take out as many of the murderers as I can along with me. Death by cop anyone?

I'm glad the economy is in the toilet. It slows the "progress" a little bit.
This civilization has got to go. We need to throw it out and start over. Yes, lots of people will probably die. It is necessary. I just hope it's TPTB that go first.
Come on Mother Nature, little help here?
I know you're pissed. I know you've got it in you to take this shit OUT.

One passage in End Game really helped me quit worrying about my own story;

"All of this has to stop. The truth is I am going to die someday. That's life. And if I die in the population reduction that takes place as a corrective to our having overshot carrying capacity, well, that's life too. Finally, if my death comes as part of something that serves the larger community, that helps stabilize and enrich the landbase of which I'm a part, so much the better."

The most important revelations in my life have come when I was very afraid of dying. Each time, I was able to let go of that fear. If I die, then I die. C'est la vie.
Not too many things feel as FREE as releasing your fear.

So I'm not afraid anymore.
Now I'm just ANGRY.

"I have suffered/ for your sins. But now is when/ the fun begins!"

Center Console

2009-03-25T17:25:00.003-05:00

Here are pictures of the battery box lid/bottom of center console, before it is faired and painted.
The center console box had to be a bit narrower than the battery box so I can get my hand in there to fasten my seat belt.
Word to the wise for anyone building a battery box in this location; leave enough room between it and the doghouse/engine cover to be able to remove the engine cover.
I didn't check before I glassed in the battery box, and freaked out when I remembered. I lucked out though. It's a squeeze, but I can still remove the engine cover. I'd recommend at least 4" between box and closest portion of engine cover.

Finally, a Good Dream

2009-03-25T07:42:00.005-05:00

Just down the road from the green valley, a lazy creek winds through a vast field of tall grass. We used to call it "quack grass" because if you squeeze a blade between your thumbs and blow through it it 'quacks'. It is soft and doesn't cut you, and is a lovely shade of bright spring green.
Following a path through the shoulder high grass to a swimmin' hole. Next to the creek was a fire pit, and a shack on a floating dock to lift it up when the creek was high.

Swimming in the creek, seeing fish hiding in the shadows where the bank undercuts.
Grilling food on the firepit, having meaningful conversations with intelligent people, being smiled at by beautiful long haired men, laying in the sun, enjoying a homebrew or two.
Didn't want to leave such a pleasant day, but dusk was gathering and I had to make sure the chickens were in for the night.
Walked back up the road to the farm house, past friendly neighbors who also grow their own food.
Put the chickens to bed, and sat by the fire for a bit while someone told a story.
Then off to bed to sleep like the dead, much to do in the garden tomorrow.
:) :) :) :) :) :)
Thanks Hermit Jim, it worked!

Battery Box

2009-03-24T17:43:00.006-05:00

Here is the battery box I built, with 3 - 12v marine batteries each 105 amp hours.
An amp hour means you can run something that draws 1 amp (or 12 watts) for an hour.
I will have 315 amp hours in my system, so if I wanted to know how much energy I was using to run a 60 watt lightbulb on my 12v power system, it would use 5 amps in an hour, or 5 amp-hours. If I wanted to use a 500 watt heater, it would use 41.6 amps per hour. (500 watts divided by 12 volts) So I could only run my heater for about 6 hours before my batteries were dangerously low.
Amps X Volts = Watts
so Watts divided by volts equals amps.

I highly recommend the 'Boatowner's Mechanical and Electrical Manual' by Nigel Caulder. It is not a cheap book, but if you own or are building a boat, RV, or Freedom Van it is a great investment. It has detailed information and drawings, diagrams and pictures on all critical systems; 12volt and 120 volt electrical systems, solar panels and wind generators, propane heating and refrigeration systems, plumbing, troubleshooting, and diesel engine repair, among others.

They can explain all this better than I can.

My batteries will be connected in parallel, with the positive terinal of one connected to the positive terminal of the next, and negative to negative.
This will give me 315 amp hours at 12 volts.
There will be a positive cable attached to the van's starting batteries, and running through a battery shut off switch to the positive terminal at one end of my 'house bank' of batteries.

Cheap Battery shut off switch from Harbor Freight
(the nice ones are $50.00 at West Marine, this was $5.00. Hope it doesn't burn shit down.)

This will let me charge the house bank with my alternator when the switch is on, and turn the switch off when I quit running to avoid draining my starting batteries while I run lights or heat up water in my hot pot. All interior lighting and electrical (inverter) will be run from the house bank.
The house bank will also be backup power to help the van start if for some reason the starting batteries should die. Just turn the battery switch on, and crank 'er up. (as long as I didn't leave my heater on all night, then I'd be SOL.)

The battery shut off switch, inverter and terminal strip will be mounted to the sides of the battery box, aft of the seats. My drink holder gets mounted to the front of it! :)
I don't have the top on yet, but it will be hinged on the forward side so it opens to the aft, so I can maintain the batteries or add electrical components. There will be another smaller box on top that will double as a seat and center console compartment that opens toward the front. I've got to have someplace to keep maps!

Time is running out. I probably won't get a chance to mount the solar panels for my back up charging system, but I will take them with me. Maybe I can do it in Washington (for all the good they'll do up there).

I'd better get back to framing up the kitchen....

Ominous Dreams

2009-03-24T08:18:00.008-05:00

In the first dream I was working on the van in a boatyard by the sea.
The sky began to turn that sinister shade of blackish green that means trouble.
I looked across the water and saw a massive rotating wall cloud (the nasty kind in a thunderstorm that spawns tornadoes). I started picking up tools and materials, and securing everything.
Then as I watched, an enormous tornadic water spout descended from the cloud. It was the biggest water spout I had ever seen. And it was coming my way.

I ran around frantically getting the cats in the van and the rest of my supplies. I was ready to leave, but when I looked up the tornado was nearly upon me.
I laid on the floor of the van, protecting the cats with my body.
The van started shaking violently. I put my head down and prayed.

I was lucky. The tornado passed right next to to the van, ripping a 45 foot sailboat out of its cradle in dry dock, and wreaking havoc among the other boats in the yard.

Once it passed, I went to the main building, which had sustained a direct hit. Some people had survived, crouching under stairwells.
"Why didn't you warn us?" they cried. "You saw it coming but you didn't warn us!"
"I was busy taking care of myself." I said. I felt a little annoyed.

I wondered why it was my responsibility to warn them. They had eyes just as I did; they were adults who could take care of themselves. I was busy protecting innocent cats who didn't really understand what was going on, and couldn't protect themselves.

************************************************************

In the next dream I found myself on an island in the tropics. I decided to go diving for lobsters. I swam around, diving down to look under the cracks and crevices where the spiny lobster likes to hide. There were no lobsters. I couldn't believe that in an area with so many good crevices I wasn't finding lobsters, so I continued to work my way along the shoreline.

I found about two lobster carcasses, but no live lobsters. Ill tempered crabs were the only life I saw. They were too skinny to eat, and would scuttle up and try to pinch me if I got too close. There were LOTS of them, all over the place.
I started to feel creeped out. Where were the lobsters? What happened to them? Something was really wrong.

I kept working my way around the island, and came to an area where the sea floor looked man made. It descended in an even grade of about 30 degrees, and appeared to be evenly spaced cobblestones set into concrete. There were no crabs here; no life whatsoever.
Curious, I clicked on my headlamp and followed the ocean floor downward. Soon I saw the grate of a large drain. As soon as I saw it, I tried to swim back up to the surface, but I was being pulled toward the drain!
I began to panic, and tried to swim faster, but I wasn't making any headway.
Then I woke up.

**********************************************************
I like to analyze my dreams. Some dreams are obviously just my mind playing, or hashing out recent events. Some dreams seem significant, and I remember them in lots of detail. These two dreams were the latter kind. I have a dream dictionary that I use as a guide, but various symbols mean different things to different people.
What I am feeling in the dream is just as important as the symbols or content of the dream.
First dream;
Vehicle (van) - represents freedom, ability to make decisions.
Dry dock - necessary changes being made, delays.
Not being able to pack in time - anxiety about details, not being ready for change.
Tornado - emotions or urges we feel powerless against, which may become obsessive.
Cat - substitute for baby, one that needs protection.

Analysis; There is a storm coming. Something beyond my control. I am anxious about not being ready for coming changes.
The people asking me why I didn't warn them when I saw it coming was very clear in this dream. I felt angry that they were laying guilt on me, when they were as able as I to take care of themselves.

Second dream;
Ocean - represents The All, the subconscious, the womb, forces from whence we came.
Diving underwater - delving into mind or unconscious, exploring the meaning of a dream. I dream about swimming underwater a lot. I'm not sure if it's because I've done it a lot and really enjoy it, or because I analyze the crap out of myself.
Lobster - not in the dream dictionary, but to me lobsters represent food, sustenance. No lobsters = no food.
Pinched by crab - physical or psychosomatic pain, even illness caused by being too tight or self protective. Grasping or hurtful attitudes.
Drain - is not in the dictionary. I think this represents deep, primal fears. I was always afraid of the big drain in the deep end of the pool; being sucked into it and unable to escape.

Analysis; This is a fear dream. Afraid of things I can't control. Crashing ecosystem, (where are the lobsters?) no food. Being sucked into something I cannot control. I think this dream is warning me not to be sucked under by fear.

Both dreams warn me to watch my attitude; not to become obsessive, or controlled by fear. Maybe I should lighten up a little. I know I am repressing the crap out of my fear and grief. When I pray or meditate, or let my emotional shields down, I start to cry. But crying doesn't get me anywhere. I can grieve when I'm safer. I don't have time for that right now.
I'm off to obsess over my van.....

Construction

2009-03-23T15:39:00.006-05:00

I haven't posted for a while. I've been really busy.

All my friends now know I am leaving the state in about 2 weeks, so they all want to spend time with me. I love my friends, but time spent hanging out is time I could be spending on the van.
I have accomplished a good bit though.

After installing the final piece of sub floor, I built a battery box, painted it and glassed it in. It fits between the two front seats, and holds three large (105 amp hour) deep cycle batteries. I want it to be waterproof inside, so any corrosion or leakage stays put. I really don't want battery acid to leak on the van or my stuff. All the water leaks I found when it rained have been sealed.

I finished insulating and closed the walls in with paneling. It almost looks liveable! I have been cutting up 2X4's for internal frame structure, and today I am applying the last coat of paint before they are installed.
The van now smells like a new house; fresh wood and paint, instead of a moldy old vehicle. I found a flood line on both seats when I was cleaning, so my suspicions that she's a Katrina victim are confirmed. The Beast is a SURVIVOR.

It's a beautiful day to paint; sunny and warm and a little breezy. Bugs and dried up sweet olive flowers stick to it, but that's OK. I'm not going for perfection. The van will just carry a little bit of Louisiana with us, wherever we may roam.

Getting closer.......

Right to Eat (HR875)

2009-03-20T16:05:00.004-05:00

This is reposted from Tom over at American Preppers Network.

http://americanpreppersnetwork.blogspot.com/2009/03/looking-more-into-hr-875.html

Looking more into HR875
For those who think gardens and small farms are safe under this bill, you need to keep reading deeper into the bill....They've purposely made it so long and boring, that you miss the important parts. Therefore, I've taken out just one small but very important part for you to read.

First of all, "food production facilities" ARE regulated. Sure, Food production facilities are excluded from the same regulation as Food establishments, but fall under separate regulation under section 206. Now, as in the definitions: food production facility' means **any** farm, ranch, orchard, vineyard, aquaculture facility, or confined animal-feeding operation. That is so broad that it could include hobby farms and even gardens. Let's say you have a couple rows of grapes. Can that be a vineyard under their definition? Lets say you have 5 goats and a horse on a 5 acre piece of land. can that be considered a farm? Now go to section 206 Here is just a small part of it. This is where it gets scary....

I've highlighted my comments in Blue

SEC. 206. FOOD PRODUCTION FACILITIES.
(a) AUTHORITIES.—In carrying out the duties of the Administrator and the purposes of this Act, the Administrator shall have the authority, with respect to food production facilities, to—
(1) visit and inspect food production facilities in the United States and in foreign countries (overstepping their bounds a little eh?)to determine if they are operating in compliance with the requirements of the food safety law;
2) review food safety records (are you good at record keeping?) as required to be
kept by the Administrator under section 210 and for other food safety purposes;
(3) set good practice standards to protect the
public and animal health and promote food safety;

***Notice this part***

(4) conduct monitoring and surveillance of animals, plants, products, or the environment, as appropriate; and
5) collect and maintain information relevant to public health and farm practices.
(b) INSPECTION OF RECORDS.—A food production
facility shall permit the Administrator upon presentation of appropriate credentials and at reasonable times and in a reasonable manner, to have access to and ability to copy all records maintained by or on behalf of such food production establishment (Look at this one, I highlighted it in Green, these guys are so STUPID that they are intermingling 2 different defined terms "food establishment" and "food production facility" taking it into context I'm assuming they are talking about a food production facility) in any format (including paper or electronic) and at any location, that are necessary to assist the Administrator— (You want government prying in your personal life more than they already are?)

Plus there's tons more very restrictive legislation. This is an evil bill Co-sponsored by the wife of someone who works for Monsanto

Not to mention, even if it did specifically exclude gardens, hobby farms and organic farms, which it does not, the cost would be so enormous that our already high food prices would go through the roof....If Monsanto favors this bill, it cant be good.

Now, there are those people out there that think this is a good bill because it "protects us", or those that feel small farms and gardens are safe. But some of the problems are 1) They appoint industry leaders as experts. Who do you think will get to be the "expert" a small organic farmer or the CEO of a major corporate farm? 2) The wording is so broad that it's open to interpretation. 3) They appoint "food police" to enforce these regulations. Now, when the food police come to your "farm" and fine you. You know what they will say? "Sorry, I don't interpret the law, I enforce the law" Can you afford an uphill legal battle to protect your farm, garden, vineyard, orchard, or livestock?

Here's The petition to fight this bill

http://salsa.democracyinaction.org/o/568/t/1128/campaign.jsp?campaign_KEY=26714

Sign, copy and email this petition to everyone you know. Drop a comment and let the world know you've done your part

Here's my personal declaration to fight this bill
http://americanpreppersnetwork.blogspot.com/2009/03/hr-875.html

**Note, Please copy and forward this article to everyone you know and re-post it to your own websites, just make sure there is a link back to this site so we can get more people involved in fighting this bill

************************
I'm so pissed off about this bill I can't even talk right now.
I am very concerned when government intereferes with the second amendment. But as a grower of plants, this is hitting one of my most basic, God Given rights to even exist.

Aaaauuughhhhhh!!!!!
Stop the insanity!!!!!!!!!
Just LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Rain

2009-03-17T14:22:00.004-05:00

It finally quit raining. All the plants really needed the rain, and they are rejoicing in spring today.

The rain did cramp my style with the van. It was a good leak test though. I found out I need to seal the seams where the very rear of the van body connects with the main body. I also need to remove the running light fixtures and silicone around them. I'm spending a lot of time de-leaking this van, but it will be worth it. I had a van in Key West that leaked like a sieve, but was my shelter when the weather was too rough to go back to the boat. A leaky van getting all your crap wet really sucks in Key West, but it can be deadly in Northern climates. This van has to keep out Washington rain.
There are several leaks in the seams of the firewall in the cab, so I still have more work to do there, but I got the massive holes fixed. My cab has a floor again! Now I just need the van to dry out so I can grind and prep.

It is rather disorienting to watch the road go by beneath your feet when you are driving.

Just don't look down.

It was a big fiberglass project. I used about 3 sq yards of fiberglass mat, one yard roving (heavy cloth) and 1 yard cloth. It's about 8 layers of fiberglass. Each side took about 3 hours to lay up. The resin roller was critical for this project, and gave me a much more solid repair. It was close to 1/4" thick when I drilled through it for the seat holes.
Mayberry mentioned on a comment how expensive West Systems is, and yeah, it 'aint cheap. I spent about $200 on a gallon of resin and quart of hardener. But it doesn't stink like polyester resin, I get a perfect cure every time because it is pre measured, and it bonds to metal much better than polyester. Polyester is the way to go if you're building a boat, or repairing a polyester resin boat. My pick for vehicle repair and metal bonding is West Systems Epoxy, so long as I can afford it.
Now I'm waiting for paint to dry. I should be able to re-install the seats by this afternoon, then I can get my last piece of plywood cut for the floor/battery box.
And once I have seats I'll be able to drive somewhere to get the wall paneling and continue on the interior.

Full Circle

2009-03-11T13:26:00.007-05:00

Funny how things in my life seem to come full circle.
My very first memory was when I was about 1 year old. My folks were moving from Louisiana to Washington state in an econoline cargo van. I still remember the two kitties, meowling in a cage.
I felt so sorry for them. They were so scared and confused. I wanted to tell them it would be OK, but I couldn't talk.

Although maybe they could Understand me better before I could 'talk'.

So my first conscious recollection of this life is in a Ford van, with 2 kitties, moving to Washington from Louisiana.
Now I am renovating a Ford Econoline Van that is nearly identical to the one in my memory, getting ready to move to Washington from Louisiana with two kitties.
Stuff like this makes think there may be something to "fate".

There is another repeating pattern here as well.

When I was leaving all I knew for the first time in my early 20's, I painted my car.

I had never done anything like that before. It was sort of my way of asserting my independance. I was leaving my marriage, and felt abandoned by my family because, except for my mom, they disagreed with my decision.

This led up to my move to Key West to live on a sailboat.

So I sold all my crap, packed the camping gear in my '82 Toyota Celica, and took off cross country. I had many memorable adventures;
The Black Plague campground in California, and getting sick afterward,
The guy at the free campsite by Lake Mead who was just looking for a license plate... "They say I poured gas on my girlfriend and burned her, but she was just drunk and fell in the campfire.."
Seeing missile tests over White Sands, New Mexico and watching people sled down the snowlike gypsum in shorts.

But I'm rambling now.

Once again, I find myself restoring a vehicle to make a break for freedom.
I know so much more than I did when I painted the Green Machine. Still, that paint job with spray can Rustoleum lasted 10 years. That car was my baby. She always got me where I was going, even if she had to limp in.

I feel like the van will be as loyal a steed as was my Celica.
I hope the Beast proves me right.

I feel like I am on the theshold of a truly grand adventure. When several cycles or themes of my life repeat all at once, I know I am in for some interesting times.

Rust: The Final Battle

2009-03-11T11:33:00.003-05:00

Remember when I said I only had one hole left to fix in the holy hippie veggie van?
Turns out that one hole is actually about 8 holes. I'm gonna need more fiberglass.
As excited as I am about getting my interior finished, I need to get the last (front)section of plywood subfloor put down before I can continue building.
So today I pulled the front seats and removed the rest of the carpeting from the cab. I knew I had a big rust hole by the pedals, but I didn't know HOW big. At least where the seats bolt in the floor is still solid and relatively rust free.
No wonder she's noisy going down the road. The only thing between me and the engine compartment was a layer of natty old carpet.

I should mention that all my neighbors think I'm totally loopy for putting this much work into an "old POS van". But that's OK.

Maybe some of you out there are wondering as well, so let me tell you why.
This van was built before computer chips were standard issue in vehicles. It is a 350diesel, so it was built to be a work vehicle, and take lots of abuse.
It was also built by Americans with big hands, so my little hands can get to every bolt or screw. It was built with American steel alloys, not with cheap Chinese metals. One of the first things you learn when working on boats is to stay away from foreign metals, especially below the waterline. If you replace a thru hull fitting with cheap metal, you're asking for trouble. Corrosion is a bitch.

This van was built to WORK, and to be worked on.

One of my ex boyfriends had a late model Saturn that needed a starter.
"No problem," says I. "I've replaced my share of starters."
I looked at the Saturn, and it turns out you need to remove about 5 major components in the engine compartment just to GET to the starter. I couldn't even get my hand in there to see where to start. I didn't love him THAT much, so he took it to the shop, and for $220.00 got a new starter. I found that disgusting, as a starter change on my 1982 toyota cost me all of $25.00.
I've owned several newer vehicles since then (when I say newer, I mean 1990's) and my disgust has continued to increase. After the last vehicle fiasco, I swore never to buy anything with a computer in it again.

My $700.00 van was EXACTLY what I was looking for. Diesel, mechanical fuel injection, lowish mileage (anything not pushing 200K is lowish mileage to me), no serious frame damage. Two fuel tanks so I can run her on used fryer oil. Ugly enough that I won't feel bad chopping into it to customize it. I would've preferred a standard transmission, but the C-6 3 speed auto that's in it has gotten good reviews as a tough tranny.
So let the neighbors laugh when they drive by in their nifty 2000 model pieces of crap. Mine may be loud and ugly, but its cheap and easy to fix, and when the solar storms intensify, or somebody drops an EMP weapon, my baby will still be running. All those pretty Hummers and Lexi (plural of Lexus) will be dead in the water. I'll be pushing them out of the way to clear the roads for people who drive REAL vehicles.
I've wanted my old diesel "Beast" for as long as I can remember. I've always been talked out of getting what I want by friends/co-workers/dealers who say it's impractical. I should get something "reliable". Now I finally have my Beast. She gives me great joy, in all her rusted glory.
And she's more reliable than any of the '90's model pieces of crap I've owned.

Van Status

2009-03-09T23:43:00.004-05:00

I got lots of work done on the van today. Yesterday I removed the old weather stripping from the back doors, sanded, prepped and painted them. Today I installed the new weather stripping, repaired and glassed in the other rear corner, fixed 3 other holes, got another interior frame board cut and painted, and started insulating.

The end of fiberglassing is in sight. There is one hole left to fix out of fourteen fiberglass worthy holes. The Holy Hippie veggie van is almost hole free. There is still some fairing and painting to do to the fiberglassed areas, but I'm ALMOST done slinging fiberglass.

I am using several layers to insulate. I used spray adhesive to attach Reflectix (shiny bubble plastic) to the outer walls of the van. I sort of felt like I was enclosing myself in a giant tinfoil helmet while doing this. Maybe it was just the adhesive fumes....
The next layer is pink, 3/4" foam cut to fit between the frame members of the van. This will be anchored with Great Stuff spray foam once I get my wall paneling cut to fit.
Any voids I cannot readily access, like inside the metal frame members of the van, get filled with 'Great Stuff'.
Lots of good progress today. Maybe I should wake up to leather clad Mel Gibson every morning...
..................................Yum.

Millet. It's What's for Dinner

2009-03-09T22:26:00.004-05:00

OK, that doesn't sound especially appealing, but it turned out good!
I wanted to make a sort of Tabbouli salad, but I didn't have bulghur wheat.
So I cooked some millet the same way; bring to a boil with twice the water and let sit for 40 minutes or so.
And here's what I had for dinner; (serves two really hungry people)
Millet Salad
1 cup cooked millet
2 chopped green onions
handful of chopped fresh parsley
1/8 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/8 cup pine nuts
lemon juice (from lemon in back yard)
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
Black pepper and salt to taste
pinch of sugar
Toss all and chill thoroughly. Toss before serving.

Grilled chicken panini
2 small chicken beasts, marinaded in lemon, pepper, thyme and olive oil/butter.
4 slices of bread
roasted red peppers (I keep some in a jar of olive oil in the fridge)
1/8 cup cream cheese
horseradish spread
Whatever greens you have available (I used mixed baby greens)
Splash of balsalmic vinaigrette dressing

I grilled the chicken, toasted and buttered the bread, and made an awesome sandwich with the above ingredients. Tomatoes would be good too, but I'm allergic to them, so I use peppers.

I love to eat real food. Especially when I just cobble something together from whatever I have on hand. This meal cost me nothing. It was either preps or picked out of the yard. That is a good feeling. My body thanks me too. When I eat a good meal that doesn't consist of "frankenfood" I feel all tingly and happy and good.

Here's hoping for an abundant future where I can cook great food in a big kitchen with good company for lots of people!

Grains of Truth

2009-03-09T20:11:00.002-05:00

I'm cooking millet for dinner tonight. I've never cooked millet before, except adding it bread, so we'll see how it turns out. I looked it up in my faithful "Joy of Cooking" and they said all cereal grains were mostly cooked the same, with some variation of water amounts and cooking times.

Joy of cooking is a great book. I got mine for my 18th birthday from my Mom, because I referenced hers so much. That was as close a rite of passage into adulthood as most of us will know. I treasure mine, with all it's gravy stains and loose binding.

But I digress. All of this got me thinking about grains. That humblest class of plants, which we take most for granted, yet are the backbone of our diets. Not a single group of humans has been successful without a reliable source of starch. For most of us that means grain. You can't buy them in a packet from a seed catalog. Most people don't give much thought to grain. But wheat is what enabled "western" civilization to arise in the first place. And rice is what allowed eastern civilization to arise. Because they are labor intensive to harvest with primitive technology, they are now exclusively the domain of the military industrial machine that includes modern agriculture.

That bread comes from somewhere.

I have fond memories of a breakfast porridge cooked from a variety of whole grains, with maybe a little honey, salt and milk. It is humble food, to be sure, but the feeling I get from eating whole, healthy foods that invigorate me is almost like being high. Better, really, because I know I have substantial sustenance to power me through a morning filled with chores. With whole grains there is no burst of energy followed by a sugar crash like our sterilized, modified, simple starches of "modern" civilization. Slow and steady wins the race with whole grains.

I realized today I have been neglecting grains in my thinking. I intend to stock up on a variety of grains, not just wheat and corn and rice, but barley and buckwheat and rye and oats. These plants have been our friends for a very long time. They should be just as valued as squashes and carrots in my seed stash, if not more.
And what about Quinoa and Amaranth and Millet and Flax?

Our plant friends are likely to face some trying times in the future, just as we face. The grater variety of grains we grow, the greater the liklihood of a few of them thriving through whatever challenges are to come.
I'm sorry I've neglected you, grains. I'll go shopping tomorrow.....

Eye Candy

2009-03-09T10:14:00.008-05:00

I stole this picture from the Minnesota preppers site http://minnesotapreppersnetwork.blogspot.com/
because I liked it, and I thought it was time for a lighthearted post. I'm tring to look on the bright side of things, and a bright side that appeals to me is the likelihood of a bunch of skinny, longhaired, unshaven men running around post collapse. That is right up my alley. I thought even Tom Hanks was attractive when he was half starved and all scraggly lookin'. There's also a good chance there won't be near as many females left as males.
This makes me feel better about being single.
I know it's mostly guys that read my blog, so if Mel Gibson in leather doesn't do for you what it does for me, here's some eye candy for the guys out there.
Check out these two. They look like keepers to me.....

I was talking about the fish....what did you think I meant? ;)
Have fun! I'm off to channel pent up sexual energy into slinging some fiberglass.

Drifting

2009-03-07T15:29:00.002-06:00

Today I am drifting. I have not slept since yesturday. I was priveleged to watch the sun come up today. Now I am in that half world between waking and sleeping. Sometimes altered states are a valuable endeavor.
I have resigned myself to the fact that once in a while, my soul just needs to drift....
I'm not getting physical things accomplished today. I'm getting spiritual things accomplished today. And that is OK.
The most valuable thing I experienced last night was when three of us girls were using the Ouija board... Somebody (me?) suggested we join hands and pray for an aura of protection around us before we used the board.
We are of diverse faiths, and all believe in what is right for us as an individual.
But we prayed for protection, and despite our differences, it was the same. And it was powerful. I really liked that feeling. We were TOGETHER, though we believed different things. They were really all the same thing.
Maybe this is just my inner hippie speaking, but what ever happened to a "BE-IN"?
Some random hopeful part of me that has not been destroyed by our System thinks that if we could ALL just join hands, and surround Humanity with an Aura of protection and prayer, we might just pull through. It was a powerful feeling, holding hands with my sisters, and praying for Good.

Take my hand. Pray for us. Pray hard. It doesn't matter what God you pray to. Just Pray. Pray for good. Pray for us. We need it now more than ever.

Reality check.

2009-03-07T12:28:00.002-06:00

A friend just sent me an e-mail with pictures of our planet, relative to the other planets, relative to the Sun, relative to other Suns, relative to the galaxy at large. It was a good reality check. I responded with this song, which has always been one of my favorites;

"Don't you feel small, it happens to us all..."
-Moody Blues

Fear

2009-03-07T09:45:00.006-06:00

Last night we went to the 'Paraplex' for a friend's birthday. It is billed as the world's first paranormal investigative complex. I guess I had high expectations. It was a beautiful building, built in the 1890's, that served as a mortuary for over 80 years. Unfortunately, any hope we had of actually experiencing anything paranormal was quickly smothered in cameras, computer monitors and hollywood effects.
I got the feeling that if there were any ghosts there, they were mostly pissed off at the intrusion of technology. Give me an infrared camera, an EMF detector, and an old abandoned house with NO POWER and I'd have a lot more fun.

In the basement, where the bodies were kept, was a "horror house" where animatronics jump out at you, lights flash, and loud noises startle you. In a group of four, I took point. I was the first to go into the dark corners, push though the body bags, and trigger the shit that jumps out at us. Hell, compared to the reality we face, I can jump a little at sudden noises, but it doesn't scare me. Everybody said how brave I was, and I thought that was funny, though I didn't say so.

It did get me thinking about fear though.
Fear is one of our most primal feelings. Fear exists for a reason. Healthy fear is critical to survival. But when fear turns to panic, it becomes counterproductive to survival.

Panic is paralysing. Panic can kill you when what you feared in the first place is not deadly. Panic is a loss of control and loss of awareness. If you panic, you are as good as dead. I learned that while scuba diving for the first time with no prior training. I couldn't clear my mask, I couldn't see, I got water up my nose and started choking. We were 80 feet down. If you screw up at 80 feet, you're pretty much fucked. You can't just swim to the surface. Some primitive part of my brain realized I was on the verge of losing my shit and probably dying. I remember thinking "I WILL NOT PANIC." I took control of my breathing and made peace with the fact that I couldn't see. I calmed down, took a moment to breathe, then successfully cleared my mask and went on with the dive.

That was my first really meaningful experience with wrangling fear. After that I became a bit of a fear junkie. I wanted to challenge it, to push my boundaries. Fear fascinates me. I have learned to let my fear speak, but not let it control me. I'd rather stand up and meet my fear head on. It is thrilling in a way, especially when you overcome it. Given the choice between fight or flight, I'm ready to fight. I'd rather die standing up than be beaten/enslaved on my knees.

That has always been my philosophy on fear.

But on March 1st, I was paralysed. I mentioned the emotional reality of it all settling in. I was scared shitless. Everything seemed pointless. I couldn't do anything except freak out.

I cried. A lot.

I prayed. A lot.

And at the end of the day, I realized that I cannot control this. So I let go.
Therein lies the secret to conquering panic. Letting go.
Let go of the control you think you have. Let go of the beliefs you have been conditioned with. JUST. LET. GO....

Trust in faith. Trust in God. Trust in yourself.

I trust that there is a higher power that guides me. I am not religious. I do not call myself a Christian, or anything else for that matter. But I have a deep, unshakeable faith that is always with me. It is my guiding light that shines, no matter how dark the storm. And I am most thankful for that.
As soon as I let go, I can breathe again. I'm still scared shitless about what we face. But panic will not incapacitate me.

Recycling

2009-03-05T18:22:00.006-06:00

It was a flip flop, but now it's an anti-squeak washer!
I enjoy finding ways to use stuff that would otherwise be thrown away. I needed a washer to keep my bedframe from squeaking, and I'm too cheap to buy anything that would work, so an old flip flop is the perfect solution. All my clothes that are too nappy to give to Goodwill get turned into rags, or bags to put my power tools in so that they take up less space than they would in the case.

I got the first part of the bedframe installed today, and repaired my rotted out corner.

I cut the lengthwise bed support and put the first coat of paint on it. I took measurements for the kitchen area, and got the boards cut for it.
I also ordered new weatherstripping for the rear doors. Hopefully that will solve the leak issues once and for all. It's starting to look like a camper van!

Progress Report

2009-03-04T14:49:00.002-06:00

I've foamed the floor in, and it turned out great. Solid and level. I bought a shelf for my clothes (the plastic 3 drawer one from wally world) so I could measure the bunk area to fit. I also got a bed. I wanted a nice memory foam mattress ($300.00), but in light of my recent financial developments I settled for an inflatable twin bed($10.00)
I slept great on an air mattress during Katrina, until the cat poked holes in it while playing with cockroaches. This one will be much better protected, with several bedding layers on top of the mattress.
After much measuring, I cut supports for the bedframe, and sanded and painted them. I don't really care what they look like, just that they don't give me splinters and are somewhat moisture resistant. I got some long (3") U bolts and drilled holes for them in the upright supports of the van. These will attach my 2x4 frame members to the body of the van.
I've started atteacking the structural rust at the back of the van, inside. One corner is entirely gone. Old rust got cut out with a sawzall, and new 2x4's were cut to fit the voids and form a structure for fiberglass. The 2x4's were treated with unthickened epoxy thinned with acetone to sink into the wood. Rot is the last thing I want.
I'll post pics as soon as I get the whole works in place.

Unemployed

2009-03-03T17:57:00.003-06:00

Today I have officially joined the ranks of the unemployed. You won't see me in a statistic anywhere. I haven't been 'on the books' long enough to apply for unemployment. But there it is. I've managed to save some money, and I hope it's enough.
Monday the boss bitched me out. He wanted to know why I hadn't been putting in 100% effort. "Well, aside from the fact that I've been sick, you agreed to give me a $3.00/hr raise when I went on the books. And you owe me sales commission, so I am less inclined to work my ass off when you owe me money."
He said he never agreed to that raise, or when it would take effect. He said he was just doing what was legal, and any discrepancy in pay was between me and the Federal government. He wanted me to grovel and beg for my job. He said he needed me to make a long term commitment to the company, or cease to be employed. He gave me a day to think about it.
Curiously, on my way to work Monday, before any of this happened, I was thinking how nice it would be to be able to work on the van full time and get the fuck out of here ASAP. I was thinking about having to wear sunglasses every evening while driving ever westward, going to search for my green valley.
Be careful what you wish for.
I don't regret it, by any means. I think he was actually just pissed off and bluffing to try to get me to work harder. Boy was he surprised when I turned in my key today. He thought I needed him more than he needed me, and he was wrong. I mentioned that the federal government could kiss my pasty white ass; I was going to live on a commune with my mom.
God willing, I will never work 'on the books' again. It just supports this ravenous beast of a system. Fuck that. Fuck Louisiana and all the crooked motherfuckers that operate down here. I don't need this shit. I am so out of here.
So now the van is my full time job. I have a lot to do. I will probably take a break from the blogosphere, it is time consuming, and time is not something I can afford to waste now. I am leaving on a journey several thousand miles long in less than a month. I need to get my ducks in a row.
No more cigarettes, no more beer. It is a distraction and an expense I can no longer afford.
There is only room for focused intent and hard work to get ready to leave this place.
I feel like I'm drifting, floating... All of my attachments here have been cut. All that remains is leaving.
Ahhhh, the open road will be mine soon. Bring me that horizon.

Knowing

2009-03-02T14:13:00.005-06:00

If you knew a friend was going to die in 24hrs from an unforseen accident, would you tell them?
If you knew a whole city would cease to exist in 6 months, would you tell it's citizens?
If you knew a world was about to crumble, would you warn them? Would they want to know?
Knowing is a curse. I've come to realize that lately. The emotional reality of what I know the future to be just hit home yesturday. I think I've been pretending I just thought I knew, based on rational analysis of facts.

I always wanted to be wrong.

But now I've accepted that I FEEL it. The real kicker of the situation is that I really CAN'T warn anybody. It wouldn't be fair to unload that on them, and they probably wouldn't be able to listen anyway. It just causes more grief. There is a reason some of us are panicking, and most aren't. It's simple. God only gives you what you can deal with.

Most people simply cannot bear to face the full emotional reality of what we are creating for ourselves. They would not make it. Their psyche would crumble. Better to allow them some happy delusions at the last, then cause them to live in unnecessary prolonged and helpless fear.

Bees are disappearing. Bats are dying. The oceans will be too acidic to support creatures at the bottom of the food chain by 2025. Our entire ecosystem is crashing. And that isn't even considering the geopolitical, financial, technological capacity we have to destroy ourselves. We are in the middle of one of the largest extinction events in planetary HISTORY.

This is not good news people.

We are phucked six ways to sunday. We are very likely going extinct as we speak. It's such a shame we had to take so many beautiful things with us.

But hell, there's not much I can do about it. I've thought about this for a while, and the best I can do is be with the people I love most, and pray.

I've had a good life. I've felt joy and sorrow. I have loved the ocean like a Mother. I've had the good fortune to experience many people and places. I've known much beauty and love. I don't regret a moment of my experiences here. Even the most painful have had something to teach me.

A very few times in my life, when I have felt most lost, I reach out and ask for help. It is of great comfort to me that I am always Answered. I prayed a lot yesturday.
And today I was answered.
The answer isn't always what you like to hear. Very often it flies in the face of anything logical. But I've tried logical. I've tried doing what we are "supposed" to do. Logic has nothing to do with god. The grand plan by it's very nature defies our logic. I guess that's why they call it faith.
Things will change fast now. I've been kicked into high gear. I had grand plans for my McVansion ;) but I need to get out FAST. One month, and I put this town to my rudder, and ne'er look back.

Music

2009-02-28T18:13:00.002-06:00

I added a juke box, so if you want to hear some Clutch, or just get an idea of what I listen to, scroll down to the bottom of the page to play.
Hope you enjoy my bizarre mixture of punk/metal/industrial/bluegrass/60's hippie folk! Hey, there's something for everyone!
I have to admit, the song choices may be a little 'doomer' oriented.
Have fun!

Politics test

2009-02-28T15:30:00.001-06:00

This is an interesting link. I fully expected to be labeled an anarchist, but apparently I'm a socialist (not an extreme one though)
http://www.okcupid.com/politics
Check it out.

New Floor

2009-02-28T13:03:00.007-06:00

I got my new floor cut out and "dry fitted" in the van. I wanted it to be a pretty tight fit because I don't want to bolt it down and make more holes in the van.
It was tricky to get it just right, because there are weird shaped fuel fills and wheel wells to cut around. So I made a pattern for each side out of newspaper and traced it onto the plywood. It turned out pretty good.
Now I will apply "Great Stuff" expanding foam to the grooves in the floor of the van and hold the plywood down with my deep cycle batteries as the foam sets. (they weigh about 80lbs apiece)
The foam adheres to things pretty well, so between it and the tight fit I shouldn't need to bolt it down. Yay! I get to cut wood!

A couple interesting things happened the last few days. I was in the Qwik-e-mart buying my cancer sticks and the customer ahead of me was talking to the cashier about being overtaxed and finding a safe place for their money. The cashier mentioned an account in the carribean. I chimed in with "I'm just investing in food and ammo." They both looked at me, but not like I was crazy. More like they were considering it.

Then our 'crazy neighbor' came over wanting to know how many of the 4000 rounds of AK ammo he ordered the Ex wanted. Gun conversations went on for a while, then the neighbor told a story about how he met these guys in a diner who were talking about ammo. The guys were initially suspicious and asked if he was a cop, but it was readily apparent that he was one of the good ole' boys. So they invited him to the range. They have some kind of 'gun club' and a 'facility' in Mississippi. I wonder if it's anybody I know online?....
It was some consolation that if/when TSHTF, the Ex will team up with CN (crazy neighbor) and maybe be able to bug out to MS with da' boys. Ex and CN are going to the range tomorrow. Awwww.... I've given up him, but I still care if he lives or dies. It's encouraging to see him making helpful connections at least.

What's Our Excuse?

2009-02-28T10:34:00.010-06:00

Thanks to Mayberry over at Keep It Simple Survival, I finally figured out how to make a youtube player appear in my blog. I thought this was a really sweet video;

So what's our excuse? We have a government that willfully tries to divide us. And we are dumb enough to listen to their BS.

Sick

2009-02-26T12:15:00.004-06:00

Being sick sucks. I forgot how much it sucks, because I very rarely get sick. I'm blaming this on my friend that had strep last week. It started on Tuesday with a sore throat and sinus pressure. I got the plywood cut for my floor in the morning, and felt crappy after that. But it was Fat Tuesday! Mardi Gras! And as this city likely won't be here for much longer (neither will I) why not enjoy it now?
So I took a 12 hr sudafed (better than crack!) and headed for the French Quarter. Beer made my throat feel better anyway.
The sheer madness of Mardi Gras is something everyone should experience at least once. I prefer to stay away from the touristy, frat boy riddled area of Bourbon St., but that is where most of the titties are, if you're into that sort of thing. The Frenchman street area is where most of the locals hang out, and the place to go to see well thought-out costumes. My favorite was a couple wearing sandwich board signs with a 'menu' for the "Freddie Mac and Cheese Grill" with humorous menu items relating to our current state of affairs. I wish I'd brought the camera, because I was too many beers into the process to memorize any of the items. Maybe they'll come to me later.
It was still an early night as far as most Fat Tuesdays. I was in bed by 11pm. And SOOOOO CCCCCCcOLD..... Fever sucks. I hate feeling that way. You do get some pretty interesting dreams though.
I worked the next day, even though I felt like total crap. What boss is going to believe you are actually SICK the day after Fat Tuesday? But I managed to blunder through it, and passed out at 7:00 pm. After sleeping 12+ hours the fever seems to have broken and it no longer feels like my head will explode when I cough. So I'm taking it easy today. I'd rather lose one day of working on the van to get better than a bunch of days getting sicker if I don't give myself time to heal. I can still work on planning the interior. I've drawn the 'footprint' of the van interior to scale. The fun part is drawing my major components (bed, stove, potty, battery box) to scale, cutting them out and moving them around on paper to see what works best. Kind of like a paper doll, but for a van.... anybody remember paper dolls?
I bet they were made in America......
I'll post picks of the floor in a later article. I want to talk about the process, and that is too much to go into here.
In case anyone is wondering, the photo is from 'Hidden Messages in Water' by Dr. Emoto. They talk to water, then photograph the results when it is frozen. They said "you make me sick" to this water. A fabulous book, with the potential to change your view of reality. Highly recommended.

Seeds of Change

2009-02-23T22:20:00.000-06:00

The voices in my head have been telling me that seeds will soon become very valuable. Fortunately my job allows me the opportunity to acquire heirloom seeds at a reasonable cost.

So I got to thinking. What plants would I want to take with me if I could only pick about 20?

The cultural diets of various areas work together to provide complete nutrition. We wouldn't have survived for tens of thousands of years without certain important plant partners.

The people of the fertile crescent survived happily with wheat, barley, native fruits and the help of animal friends in the form of meat and cheese.

I could eat nice fresh cheese, good whole grain bread and fruit forever. (And maybe some Prosciutto....mmmmmm.)

In the Americas the three sisters were critical; corn, beans and squash. The Anasazi survived for tens of thousands of years with these plants.

Seeds of Change is the heirloom seed company we use at work. The seeds are vacuum packed in resealable plastic packs and have a sell by date of Dec. 2010. I will most likely be either settled or dead by then. I tried to concentrate my purchase to plants that give the most bang(calorically speaking) for the buck. Squashes, root vegetables, grains and beans. When I was ordering the seeds, I tried to get the toughest varieties; the longest keeping squash and carrots, drought and beetle resistant beans, disease resistant tomatos and peppers. I like the weird grains too, because I know they haven't been genetically messed with; Quinoa, amaranth and millet.

I ordered some oil seeds too; safflower and sunflower may both be pressed for cooking/fuel oil.

I didn't buy any greens; they are low in calories and pretty easy to find foraging.

So today I bought seeds. Another prep to cross off the list.

I'd still like herb seeds, but some of my plants (dill, cilantro, parsley, fennel) are getting ready to go to seed so I will probably just collect those and seal them myself.

A few plants I would love to have, but they come in tuber form, not seed form, so don't keep as long. Jerusalem artichoke (aka sunchoke) Yacon, garlic, hops, onions and potatos. Maybe I can barter for them whenever I find my green valley.

A Storm is Coming

2009-02-20T22:58:00.006-06:00

Today was an interesting day. I got off work early because of Mardi Gras, and my LA refund check came in the mail. I promply trotted off to the bank to cash it before my state goes bankrupt too. Almost $200.00, and most of it will go to food preps.

To celebrate reclaiming a portion of my my hard earned dollars, I went to the pub. Fox News was on the TV, and they were talking about worst case scenarios, survivalism, and civil unrest.

It was muted, with subtitles, so as not to disturb the doctors and lawers and accountants who also frequent this watering hole. But there it was. On the TeeVee. And we all know that the box speaks the truth.

When I got home, I happened upon the program through an unrelated e-mail link. I watched a portion I'd missed, with my ex sitting right there. He ridiculed it, of course, but it started an interesting discussion.

"The American people won't overthrow the government a la' French revolution. They are too fat and happy. The French were all starving. Americans might march on the White House, but everyone will forget to bring the torches and pitchforks."

"Babe, the people may be fat, but they ain't happy. If Americans overthrow their government it WON'T be with pitchforks....."

We talked about the economy and I mentioned something about ammo being the new dollar. I think I pissed him off. I tried to apologise; "I'm sorry I talk about this. I know it messes with your world view. I won't talk about it anymore if it makes you feel better. At least you have plenty to trade for food. Those defenses will be worth their weight in gold."

I don't think that made him feel better. He quit talking to me and went to bed. I really don't give a shit at this point. Let his world view be messed with. Maybe he will wake up before it's too late. Maybe he'll just think I've gone off the deep end and be glad to be rid of me. Whatever. All things will be as they must.

But I think I can see something coming that he and a whole lot of sheeple don't want to think about. I can try to warn them, but it really doesn't do any good. Mostly it just upsets them, and makes them stay away from me. I guess that's OK. I can really only fit enough preps in the van for me, myself and I anyway. (and maybe a couple of cat friends)

Batten down the hatches, the revolution idea has gone mainstream.

Mainstream thought to manifestation of reality is a small step.

"Say your name/try to speak as clearly as you can you know/nod your head, just in case they're watching with their shiny satellites/ Tune it out/listen to the shit they pump into your head/filling you with apathy/hold your breath/wait until the time is right/hold your breath/ the end is near." -Nine Inch Nails

Prepped and Primed

2009-02-19T16:25:00.008-06:00

My floor is all glassed in, prepped, primed and ready for a sub floor. It's been rainy a lot this week, so I lost some days, and fixing the rest of the exterior holes in the Holy Hippie Veggie Van became a priority. What's the sense in putting in a floor if it'll just get messed up when it rains? So today I ground out and de-rusted the rest of the holes where the rain comes in.

And stops my mind from wandering....

This weekend they will get glassed in. It shouldn't take that long, so maybe I'll be able to install the sub floor too.

Prep work is always a pain in the ass. It takes the longest and is the least satisfying. But the final result always depends on laying a solid foundation. Prep work is critical. Just the same, I will be ecstatic when I get to cut wood to build my interior. That should go a lot faster.

My plan is to install a basic framework for the bunk and kitchen areas that is attached to both the frame of the van and the sub floor. After wiring, I can insulate and put up paneling.

Then I can start to think about finishing cabinets/storage/shelves and what type of flooring I want to install. Woo Hoo!

"Engineer the future now, damn tomorrow, future now. Throw the switches, throw the Judge, yesturday's for mice and Gods." -Clutch

Dog Gumbo

2009-02-17T09:36:00.006-06:00

No, this isn't a recipe (that might come later) just some thoughts on post collapse city life VS post collapse country life. I consider myself fortunate to have experienced Hurricane Katrina. It allowed me to see firsthand how quickly the thin veneer of civilization can dissolve when people start to get desperate.

I was very fortunate to be in the 'country' a few miles outside of a one-stoplight town on the north shore of Lake Ponchartrain. I was prepared. I evacuated (not far) with marine batteries, 12V fans, food, water, gas, chainsaw, camping gear, xtra fuel, batteries, etc. Driving back to my house there were no street signs. They had all been blown down. I saw no other vehicles on the freeway. It occurred to me then that I was entirely on my own. No phones worked. No power anywhere. No gas stations, no grocery stores, no help. If I was to survive, it was all up to me. It was an interesting feeling. I had to stop several times, fire up the chainsaw, and clear the road to get through. Power lines and debris covered the roads.

I was very lucky. The flood was about a foot shy of getting inside my house. Once I got back to the house, I lived on the screen porch for a month with no power or running water. I would read by candlelight, or listen to the chaos in the city on my battery powered radio. After the first night, I decided I needed a gun (I didn't own one). I painted "Looters will be shot" on my plywood, and carved a big oak branch with a knot on the end. Not much good against a gun, but maybe good against someone who thought they were dealing with a unarmed female, and better than nothing. But it was good to be out in the stix. The people in my neighborhood worked to clear the roads. I brought my neighbor a tarp because a tree went through her roof, and mine was mostly OK. She hugged me and cried. I had never met her before.

A few days later, I ventured out for supplies. I procured 30 gals of gas for $95.00 after waiting in line for four hours. I showered with water left in the pressure tank at the nursery I managed, and stood naked in my store drying myself off. It was surreal.

Hurricane Katrina provided me with an invaluable snapshot of both the worst and the best sides of Humanity. It made me realize how much we take for granted, and how easy it is for all that to fall apart. It fully reinforced my notion that if you wait for help from the government, YOU WILL DIE WAITING. And it convinced a formerly pacifist hippie to arm herself to the teeth.

It really was quite an adventure.

What a Wonderful World

2009-02-15T11:36:00.002-06:00

I was e-mailed this video. Everybody needs some cuteness once in a while.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rooyt3ptNco
This song reminds me of the night after Katrina. I was sleeping outside on the pool deck at my friend's house because it was cooler, and all the mosquitoes had been blown away. The day before, I nearly died when a large oak tree fell on me. I was stupid for being outside in a hurricane, but I must be here for a reason because the tree fell around me. Three feet in front of me was a crotch where the branches split. About a foot and a half to either side of where I was standing were branches as thick around as my body. I got a knock on the head and a bruise on my leg, but I was almost a grease stain on the driveway.
So there I was, laying on the pool deck, looking at the stars. They were AMAZING. Between the haze and the light pollution, we rarely see the stars here, but the power was out for hundreds of miles around.
I thought about how thankful I was to be alive. I gave thanks for the stars, I gave thanks for my family and loved ones. I gave thanks to that 300 year old live oak for not killing me, even as it died. I realized then what really mattered in life was life itself.
Whenever I hear that song, I think about those brilliant stars that night on the pool deck. And I remember to give thanks for all that I have.

Dreams of Eden

2009-02-12T09:57:00.003-06:00

I had many strange dreams last night, but I only remember a couple parts of them.
In the first I was in a city. I went up into a parking garage with lots of other people to watch a fireworks show. I was annoyed that I had to wait in a long line to get up there, and felt a little stifled and panicky like I always do when I am forced to act like a herd animal to slaughter. (MOO). Finally we got to the top and it was still very crowded. I'm short, so I kept trying to squeeze to the front so I could see. Even in front it was disappointing. The fireworks were a long ways off. I think the city was Seattle. My dreamscape cities seem to be defined by the freeways; the routes in and out. This had the layout of Seattle. It is invariably nighttime when I visit cities in dreams.
The second part I remember, we went to a farmers' market or renaissance festival in the country. It was a bright sunny day and there were lots of booths selling neat things. We walked away from the market down a trail. After a while we came to a point where a slightly overgrown trail left the well worn path. I knew that down this path less travelled was the place I had been searching for. My valley, my Eden, was just beyond the next hill. I wanted to go there with all of my being, but for some reason I couldn't. Some commitment or responsibility was holding me back. My heart was breaking. I was so close to my dream I could smell the fertile Earth, the dew on the grass, but it was just out of reach. I threw myself down on the ground sobbing.
I was wearing lots of rings, and in a fit of frustration I started tearing all of them off my hands. I left just one, with a stone of swirly green Malachite. Somehow it represented my connection with that lost Garden. I cried and cried for the loss I felt.

Epoxy Tips

2009-02-10T09:04:00.003-06:00

There has been some interest in the fine art of playing with epoxy, so I thought I would add some helpful hints;

Have all of your materials ready before you mix the epoxy. Once mixed, your working time is limited. Depending on temperature, it has a "pot life" of about 15 min. and a "working time" of about 30 min. It cures faster in hot weather, slower in cold. Materials you should have on hand are

-Mixing pots (the plastic ones, like for paint)

-Mixing sticks - I get the ones made for epoxy (black) 'cause you can reuse them a few times.

-Disposable Nitrile gloves (lots) - Harbor Freight has a box of 100 for about $6.00

-Disposable chip brushes - box of 50 (1") at HF for $3.00

-Fiberglass (cut to size before mixing)

-Thickener - I use West Systems 404 or 406 (high density adhesive fillers) for most of my work

-Acetone - Nasty stuff, but crucial for surface preparation.

-Chemical gloves - the nitrile gloves don't hold up to acetone, and it can destroy your liver.

(My liver needs all the breaks it can get)

I start with surface prep. Rust areas are de-rusted, then all areas that will touch epoxy get wiped down with acetone. When my repair area is clean and dry, I mix about 3 pumps of epoxy in a cup and stir thoroughly. To this first batch I add thickener to make the mix 'peanut butter' consistency. This is sloppy enough to still stick to stuff, but firm enough to hold its shape. I use a mixing stick to mash this into any holes/voids/uneven areas to make a semi-smooth surface for the fiberglass.

When I've used all the thickened epoxy, I mix another 3 pumps in the same pot. I use a brush to spread unthickened epoxy on the areas to be fiber glassed. Then I start adding fiberglass (you cut it to size already, right? the clock is ticking now.) Smallest pieces go on first. Apply fiberglass and press gently into the repair area. Use the brush to "wet out" the fiberglass, applying epoxy and smooshing it around until the fiberglass turns from white to clear. Add the next, larger layer of fiberglass, and repeat "wetting out". Add as many layers as you need to fill the hole or bond stuff together. I always finish with woven 'cloth' fiberglass because it gives a smoother finish once it hardens. If you do lots of layers, it's a good idea to get a resin roller and roll over it to mash out air bubbles and extra epoxy. No air bubbles=a much stronger repair.

Clean up spillage with acetone before it hardens, or better yet, protect surrounding surfaces before you get started. Epoxy sticks to ANYTHING and the only way to get it off once it hardens is sanding or grinding. Set the pot and mixing stick aside and let them cure. If you squeeze the pot and bend the stick once the epoxy is hard (the next day) it pops off and you can reuse the pot and stick (see picture, the brush is in a perfect epoxy mold of the pot).

I used about 4 layers of fiberglass to bond the floor to the walls. In the picture above you can see the pre-cut fiberglass layers for a large hole on the floor. Seven was just about right for that.

Once you finish the repair and it hardens, you can sand it and 'fair' it if you care what it looks like. (I'll go into fairing another time, it's a process unto itself) All fiberglass repairs should be painted or protected from sunlight. It is technically a plastic, and will start to break down with exposure to UV in sunlight.

Wearing a bandanna is a good idea if you have hair. I got epoxy in my bangs while working on the boat in Key West. Nothing to do but cut it out. So I had a nice little duck's ass curl in the middle of my forehead, and everybody laughed at me for a while. Fairly warned be ye, says I.

MY floor won't drop out

2009-02-08T10:58:00.003-06:00

I've nearly finished prepping the floor of the van. It has been de-rusted and given a coat of primer. I just need to finish sealing all the joints and seams with fiberglass, then one more overall coat of primer. Sealing all the seams may be overkill, but this van is my future house. I'd rather overkill than wish I'd done better, later. Do it right, do it once. The next step is to install a plywood sub floor, which will level out the current uneven state of the floor, and serve as a secure attachment point for my interior structures.
I have also taken painstaking measurements, so I can draw the van to scale and come up with a "floor plan" for the bed/kitchen/cabinets/battery box, etc. I will also determine where I need wiring, so I can install it before I put up the insulation and "walls". I've always liked scale drawing. I've used it in innumerable carpentry projects, and did a stint as a landscape designer for a while. Drawing and writing are great tools in my creative process. They help me generate ideas, see what will work and what won't, and think through the constuction process so I don't leave out critical steps.
Measure twice, cut once.

Tampons and Ammo

2009-02-05T17:41:00.005-06:00

We've been hearing that it's somehow OUR fault that the "recession" is continuing. Everybody is starting to wise up and not buy a bunch of worthless crap they don't need, and as buying worthless crap is 2/3 of our GDP, it 'aint looking good.

So I thought I would do my part to stimulate consumer spending. I blew about $200.00 today. Most of that was spent on ammo. The first sprawl mart I went to was nearly out. There were big empty spaces in the ammo case, and several men standing in front of it, talking on cell phones and scratching their heads. It concerned me. I was reassured to see that Sports Academy had added an entire table for ammo, and it was full. They're not stupid. They know what's selling. The second sprawl mart had the big boxes of .22lr I was after. I took half their stock.

I did get this super nifty case from Harbor Freight for $20.

It has a sturdy, bi-fold lid with piano hinges and additional latches, and locks. They are the cheap crappy combo locks, but at least kids can't open it. It even has neat little pockets inside to hold the gun cleaning stuff.

I also spent about $30 on tampons. I like them, and now have about 6 months worth. Turns out you get almost as many weird looks buying bullets and tampons as you do buying condoms and cucumbers.

Eagle Spirit

2009-02-03T16:10:00.003-06:00

I saw a bald eagle today. He never flapped his wings once, just circled higher and higher on the currents of the wind.
I know it is not coincidence that this symbol of freedom should appear to me today.
I've seen him closer once before, and it seemed odd that he should be here, in the very heart of the city.
I think he is my soul.
Flying free despite the chaos that surrounds him.

I am so thankful today. The voice of beauty and truth is speaking to me once again.
I am on my path, and the Universe provides.

She's Got her Ticket

2009-02-03T08:31:00.003-06:00

I now have a hard date of April 1st to be out of here. I had the Difficult Discussion last night, and it was easier than I thought. We both agreed it was time for me to move on.

So I have 2 months to finish the van and get ret rid of the remaining material crap I have accumulated, while still working part time. That is pushing it. I'd better get my ass in gear.

It is a relief to know that the last attachment holding me here has been dissolved.

I do grieve for that which is passing away, but I am really excited about the road ahead.

Mostly though, I just feel FREE.

Goodbye

2009-02-01T19:56:00.007-06:00

It's so difficult for me to see you sitting there looking all dejected. You try to look stoic, and you do, but I can feel the waves of hurt coming off of you. They harmonize with the hurt I already feel and make being in your presence intolerable.

I hate to hurt anyone, especially someone I love.

It has, however, become impossible for me to deny that we are on two very different paths. Due to my experiences with the Dominant Paradigm, and to my free spirited nature, I choose to reject what our society sees as worldly success. By most accounts that makes me certifiably insane. But I believe that life is not measured in the number of breaths we take but by the number of breathtaking moments we experience.

Don't get me wrong, I admire you for being ambitious and working hard. And I can completely understand that you have a plan to make a secure future for yourself.

I also have a plan to make a secure future for myself. But it doesn't involve lots of money and a 401K and Social Security. It involves fertile Earth and a community of like minded people who actually get pleasure from chopping wood and carrying water. It involves a lifestyle of direct connection to the Earth and it's cycles, and of sustainability and respect that I find this culture so sorely lacking.

Yes, I do plan on going off to "grow carrots" (and a whole lot more!) for a living. And if I die in poverty at 45 or 55, at least I will be able to go out into the woods and meet death on my own terms.

I will not be struck dead by heart attack or stroke trying to keep up with the unnatural demands of this system. And I will not die a horrific painful drawn-out death on machines and chemicals as I suffer from some Industrial disease. I will not live a miserable life as a wage slave, and wonder at the end, what I lived for.

I will die happy.

I seek to escape this trap our culture has set for us; make more money to buy more things, be indentured for 30+ years to the 'company store' just to have a roof over my head. Fuck that. You only live once (well, maybe not, but I intend to make the most of it).

As I am certifiably mad, I cannot ask and don't expect that you subsidise my pipe-dream hippie reality with your conventional reality. I completely understand if you want me to leave. But I would like to stay for a couple months while I get my new home ready. I will pay rent of course, and try not to be a burden or disturbance. But if you want me to go I will find a way.

I used to hope you would come with me, but unless the world ends tomorrow I know that is unlikely.

For some reason I feel like I need to make clear my reasons for leaving;

New Orleans is not a logical place to live. Glaciers all over the world are melting at an unprecedented rate, a 25 mile chunk of Antarctica is getting ready to break off, and we are several feet below sea level. I can only see the sea levels rising, and tropical storms intensifying as our poor abused planet tries to blow off heat.

Our food production and distribution systems are fatally flawed. They depend entirely on fossil fuels and are inherently unstable, not to mention unhealthy.

Our economy has for some time been built on pretend money. The depth of its imaginary nature is just beginning to be seen, and I believe the price we will pay in terms of cost in human lives has yet to come due, but is not far off.

We are approaching the nexus of a perfect storm created by our greed and lack of foresight. I don't know what exactly is coming, but I feel in my bones that we are rapidly approaching a time of great change. Our false, unsustainable systems will fall away, and I want to be a part of the sustainable systems that will eventually take their place.

I also want to be with my family, especially my Mom, as things restructure themselves. I owe her a deep debt of gratitude, as throughout the twists and turns of my rather bizarre life she has always been there for me without judgement and without fail.

I love you and I wish you the best. I hope I am wrong about the coming changes. But I will still be happiest growing 'carrots' in a communal setting.

I am truly, deeply sorry for hurting you. I do love you, and I did try to live your life. But I am stifled here. I am a caged bird. I cannot breathe in this city.

And you wouldn't love me anyway if I killed the part of me that is free.

So I cast off the bowlines and take a leap of faith into the unknown.

Bring me that horizon.

Spoiler

2009-02-01T11:34:00.004-06:00

I have completed the first layup of my rain catching van "spoiler". I still need a few more layers of fiberglass to get the height and strength that I want, then a good bit of grinding and fairing to make it look halfway decent. But already the van leaks less and rattles less. She grows stronger by the day.

I used a piece of the steel trim that holds up the interior ceiling panels as support for my new gutter. I applied blue tape and spray-on cooking oil to the trim first, to keep it from becoming a permanent part of my fiberglass artwork.

As it begins to cure and solidify I squish air bubbles out of it and encourage it into the shape I desire. When it starts to get fairly stiff I will add another layer to "hot batch" it all together.

If the epoxy is allowed to cure completely, it is necessary to give it a light sanding and wipe it down with acetone to remove the 'amine blush' that will prevent the next layer from making a good bond.

I didn't think it was possible, but my van is even uglier than it used to be. Nothing says classy like uneven patches of gray primer, and strings of fiberglass flying in the wind....

I actually enjoy the fact that it is so ugly as to be offensive to all the sheeple in their Hummers and Escalades. It's sort of fun to watch pedestrians tremble in fear when they consider crossing in front of me. If I didn't anticipate stealth parking I wouldn't even paint it, but anyone who sees it parked on their street now is definitely going to think a serial killer lives in it and call the cops.

Eventually it will get painted 'Desert-ed tan' which is a flat paint the color of dust in the desert. It will still look scary, just not serial killer scary.

I've got to get the interior liveable first though.

"Count down, America, where are you now? Minuteman, please show me how, to wash this blood from my hands, make it go away. The evils of my forefathers pale to those today."

Clutch - 'Arcadia'

Elephant Riders

2009-01-31T12:56:00.004-06:00

I have had a series of very interesting personal encounters lately, so while the naval jelly is working it's chemical magic on the rust I thought I would write about them...

A few days ago I went to the grocery store to buy cat food and beer (which, aside from materials for the van constitute the bulk of my consumerism). At the checkout line there was a retarded white girl of about 8 years attended by a middle age black lady.

As soon as I put my cat food on the belt, the girl said "Want a hug?"

"Sure! I'll have a hug!" I hugged her.

"Kitty?" she said, pointing at the cat food.

"Yes. Three kitties."

At this point the black lady had completed her transaction and was trying to leave.

"Want a hug?" the girl said again.

"OK, one more hug, then you have to go."

"OK." I hugged her again, and they left.

I found myself feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, and envying this retarded girl for living such a simple, pure life. She reminded me of what I was, once. Innocent. Loving. Happy to just BE.

I'm so glad for her that she is oblivious to all the dark in this world.

A day or two later, I found myself in the local bar. Just a burger and perhaps a couple pints.

A slick looking middle aged man came in with a younger chick who was obviously a stripper. They were completely loaded, and hadn't slept for 24hrs (fucking coke heads.) We had an interesting discussion about cutting grass, loving the smell, and the satisfaction of a freshly cut lawn. The stripper loved cutting grass, and knew how to clean fish. A girl after my own heart. The man, who turned out to be the owner of the strip club, would never bother to do ANYTHING he could pay somebody else to do. He could not understand the gratification of cutting grass. He had never caught or cleaned a fish, despite being raised in Bayou country.

They were so far removed from my worldview, all I could do was laugh at them.

Yesterday, a customer called to order soil. We got to talking about organic gardening, how our food system is fucked, how the economy is tanked and other such gloom and doom. We talked for about 45 minutes. Wow, an honest to god fellow survivalist. He was moving to Texas to start a homestead/organic farm. Lots of people seem to be going to Texas. I didn't really like Texas when I went through there, but I was still a naive, pacifist hippie who thought guns were BAD. Times have changed. I find myself relating better to many of the so called 'psycho' gun toting folk than to pacifist hippies or "normal" people.

That is the second customer in a week who has talked frankly to me about getting OUT.

It's a sign.

OK, back to killing rust.

"Elephant riders to the north bring news of battle.." -Clutch

Everything in it's Own Time

2009-01-30T21:13:00.003-06:00

These words were given to me by the Indigo Girls, they are far too beautiful to call my own;
"Remember everything I told you
Keep it in your heart like a stone.
And when the winds have blown things 'round and back again
What was once your pain will be your home.

All around the table, the white haired men have gathered
Spilling their sons' blood like table wine.
Remember everything I told you
Everything in its own time.
The music whispers you in urgency
Hold fast to the language of connection...

Boys around the table are mapping out their strategies.
Kings all of mountains one day dust.
A lesson learned, a loving God, and things in their own time
In nothing more do I trust.

We own nothing, nothing is ours
Not even love so fierce it burns like baby stars.
But this Poverty is our greatest gift.
The Weightlessness of us as things around begin to shift....

Remember everything I told you
Keep it in your Heart like a stone
And when the winds have blown things round and back again
What was once your pain will be your home...."

The Rust speaks

2009-01-25T11:38:00.006-06:00

I've been treating the rust as bad. It is eating my van. But it also has a story to tell, like anything else.

Rust is the memory of water. Where there is rust there was water, and likely will be again. Water is the stuff of life. Oxidation (rust) is vital to life processes.

This rust is telling me that if I pay attention, I might thank it later.

My van has a pattern of rust around the roof that is familiar to anyone who owns an older van. The two back corners are the worst, at the lowest points where the little van gutter encourages water to sit and work its oxidizing magic.

I'm sure it isn't coincidence that I have been reading about the desert (thanks rube!) and water catchment and cisterns. If I want my van to be as self sufficient as possible, why not include catching water? Obviously plenty of water takes a certain path across my van.

So instead of hating the rust, I let it inspire me. My van will have a sort of 'spoiler' across the back that prevents most water from going off the back. It will be diverted to the rust spots about a foot forward of the corners, where it will be released into pipes running into water tanks. I still need to work out the details. This idea has just hatched.

The water may not be drinkable, but as long as the van is clean and not in a polluted area I don't see why it wouldn't be.
Brilliant! Thanks rust!

2009-01-24T18:20:00.005-06:00

There is a hum to the city that I can never really tune out. It is a very low frequency. It is freight trains rumbling along the tracks, pressing the mud just a little further below sea level. It is traffic buzzing along the roads. It is the blinding light pollution that never lets me see any but the brightest stars. It is dogs barking and machines running and the endless chaotic psychic confusion of all the poor lost souls that surround us.

For some some people the noise is welcome. It drowns out the inner voice that screams of something deeply wrong.

For those of us who chose to listen to that voice, the city becomes intolerable noise. I feel bombarded by swirling energies on many frequencies. Oh, for the quiet of the country.

I fear that I have, once again, hurt someone I care about very much. But when the choice is between my own sanity and happiness or playing a game to avoid hurting someone, my choice is clear. I wonder why I get involved in the first place? I want to hope. I want to love. I want to feel safe. But every time I try it falls apart. I think I just change too fast.

Now I need to try to talk to someone who is an even worse communicator than I am. At least I have writing. Whenever I have these talks, I invariably wind up saying something that is true, but sounds extremely insensitive. I'm just not good at talking.

I don't know. The "city boy" with "country girl" relationship probably has an very finite lifespan anyway. If I can't live in his world, and he can't live in mine then......where is the future?

The irony is he doesn't even make time to enjoy all the things he loves about the city. Live music, great culture, fantastic food, what good is it if you are too busy working to ever get out and enjoy it?

And if you are too busy working to contribute time to your relationship than what good is that either? Why should it be a surprise that I am building my van to leave? What is there to stay for?

I have already accepted the loss. But my heart is heavy tonight because I know now that he feels it too.

Epoxy is awesome

2009-01-24T14:50:00.006-06:00

After being served a notice of seizure way too early in the morning, yesturday continued to get even weirder. Suffice it to say that the Universe lit a fire under my ass. Events conspired to point me in one direction; get ready to get outta Dodge, fast. I figure I have about 1 month. My deadline is technically March 25th, but the sooner the better.

So today I am working with fiberglass. I was going to learn to weld, but that requires time to learn, expenses for materials and tools, and I already know how to work with fiberglass since I lived on a boat for two years.

I prefer West Systems epoxy resin. It has several important advantages over polyester resin; It has nifty measuring pumps, so you don't have to measure hardener and possibly get a batch that doesn't cure, it is technically stronger and more moisture resistant than polyester, and it doesn't smell anywhere near as nasty. Naturally it is also more expensive, but I already had some.

With any sort of finish or repair, surface preparation is 90% of success. So I ground the paint down to bare metal, cleaned the entire area with acetone, and filled the deep cracks by the wheel wells with Great Stuff expandy foam. The cracks were then filled with epoxy thickened with colloidal silica and shaped to a smooth surface.

I brushed unthickened epoxy on the areas to be fixed, and started applying fiberglass. It is a good idea to have fiberglass pieces cut to the size of the hole BEFORE you mix the epoxy. It has a limited working time before it starts to cure. After each pice of fiberglass is applied, you add more resin to "wet out" the fiberglass, thoroughly saturating it with resin. There are rollers available to squish out air bubbles and extra resin, but I prefer to massage it, squishing it around with my hand. It's more fun, cheaper, and works just as well. Of course I wear gloves. Epoxy is extremely sticky, and permanently attaches to anything it touches; metal, wood, hair or skin.

I used both fiberglass cloth and glass mat in repairing this hole. Cloth is more flexible than mat, but the more directions the glass fibers are going, the stronger the repair. Mat is good for quick build up of indented areas. I always use cloth for the final layer as it gives a nicer finished surface. It is kind of like paper mache', only permanent and waterproof.

So the holy hippie veggie van has one less hole today. And I'm off to grind more rust.

Profits of Doom

2009-01-23T07:33:00.009-06:00

Six thirty AM is awfully early for a subpoena, don't you think? A forceful pounding on the door in conjunction with the barking of our extremely tough guard dog jolted me awake and sent me scrambling for a robe to cover my nakedness. An officer of the law is definitely not a fun thing to wake up to.

They have finally gotten around to reposessing my house. I haven't made a payment since 09/07. I guess Countrywide had too much else to worry about to take my ramshackle trailer on the bayou...until now.

Yes, I am one of the pins that popped the housing bubble. If they had just cooperated with me when I tried to refinance, they could still be bleeding me dry.

So fine, take it. I don't want it. I perused this official looking document, and can understand Legalese about as well as I can understand Japanese, which isn't well. The part that worries me is they seem to think they are entitled to court costs, maintenance costs, and a bunch of other random costs that I am responsible for paying if they can't get around $90K at auction for the house.

Over my dead body.

If this additional cost thing is not vanquished by waving Bankruptcy papers at it, they can kiss my ass goodbye. They are just making this thing worse. Now I'm gonna have to close my bank accounts to protect the small amount of (soon to be worthless) dollars contained therein. I was considering doing that anyway. I think I will invest it in brass >:D.

If they garnish my wages I will quit my job and hit the road. Can we say economic meltdown?

Somewhere, a poor destitute bank executive has been forced to sell his luxury yacht. Awwww.

It's gonna get worse before it gets better. Possibly MUCH worse. I wonder if our bank exec knows how to clean a squirrel? I do.

"Bury your treasure/ burn your crops/ blackwater rising and it ain't gonna stop..."

Get your evolution on

2009-01-20T05:40:00.007-06:00

Everywhere, people are beginning to wake up. I see a little of it every day, even in this armpit of unenlightenedness that is The South.

It gives me so much hope.

I am thankful I have the opportunity to teach my community about small scale, sustainable growing of food. I work for an organic garden center, and volunteer at a community garden in "the ghetto". It may not be much, but it is something.

Even here, where the intestine of the USA terminates and takes a big, poison laden crap into the Ocean, awareness is growing. Although I guess when you have a dead zone the size of a not so little state off your coast, it might be hard to ignore for long. Mother Nature is starting to cry 'uncle' a little louder. With each hurricane that washes ashore more land is lost to the ocean, and a few more people start to wake up. Steps toward sustainability in the South take the form of buying a keg cooler instead of bottle beer since no one recycles here, but at least it is a step.

I still don't think it will be enough, fast enough. I worry about what lies ahead.

Nature always keeps a balance, and we are way past the tipping point.

My goal is to have The Holy Hippie Veggie Van ready to liveaboard by June 1st, the start of hurricane season. Whenever it feels right, I will spin a compass north by northwest and hit the road.

I don't miss the cold, but my heart longs for the Northwest. I want to go back and see all my wild plant friends. I know them so intimately there, because they spoke to me before my schizophrenic downfall into the mold of "culture".

I miss my mom and my brother. I am blessed with a family whose goals and dreams are in line with my own. Maybe together we can find our tribe, and a patch of earth to call home.

Maybe other wanderers who are seeking the same will find us. And just maybe, our Mother will smile upon us even as she removes those who are out of balance and harming her.

"I know we came here to get our good times on/hold the whole world in our hands/and greet the dawn with open arms" -Clutch, Never be Moved.

So get your evolution on!

Rust

2009-01-18T17:41:00.007-06:00

This weekend I'm killing rust. It's about time I actually wrote about my van.

My van is a 1985 Ford Econoline E-350. Diesel engine, dual tanks, 6.9 litre, 420 cu. in. with a C-6 transmission, 3 speed automatic. 144,000 miles.

I paid $700.00 for this van. She may be ugly on the outside, but she is beautiful mechanically.

I can reasonably expect to get another 300,000 miles out of this engine, and closer to 500,000 if I treat her right.

I chose this van over a newer model for several reasons. Before 1985 vehicles had no computer chips. Basically this means I can fix it myself. Fords are abundant, parts are relatively cheap, and that was when Ford still manufactured vehicles using good ole' American metals. Things were built heavy, and built to last.

People say vans are difficult to work on. I have not found that to be the case. Anytime I work on this van, I am impressed by the simplicity and by the quality of materials that went into it. Granted I haven't done any serious engine work, but so far, so good. I have replaced the water pump, coolant hoses, accessory drive belts, thermostat, power steering gearbox, and done all the regular maintenance. The transmission fluid looked like a carmel milkshake.

My poor baby, I think she may have been a Katrina victim. Patterns of corrosion indicate she has been sitting for a long time, lonely and neglected. I'm not sure if she flooded and was just too stubborn to give up, or if she was just neglected.

After my minimal maintenance work, she runs like a dream. Gets between 20-24 mpg, which isn't bad for a van this size. Hopefully mpg will improve when I start running WVO/diesel blend.

But now, rust is the biggest issue. You don't really find vehicles 20+ years old that don't have rust issues. So I started grinding.

The process goes something like this; use variable speed sander/buffer with 5" wheel and 24 grit resin wheel. I started with my 12V drill and 3m abrasive bad, but it took forever, was tiring, and hard on my drill. The sander/grinder is a vast improvement, yeilding better results in less time. Vacuum dust with shop vac, apply naval jelly/rust stopper. Wait for it to work (2hrs) then scrub it with clean water and steel wool. Give it a sponge bath to rinse away residual crap/naval jelly/paint or rust flakes then dry thoroghly with a paper towel.

After air dry time, coat prepped surface with rust inhibiting zinc primer. This stuff stinks. I highly recommend a respirator, unless you really like killing brain cells. At the end of the day, I had pretty nice results.

My strategy is a unilateral attack against all rust, eliminating the weakest first. The areas of larger rust will be attacted individually later on.

I also installed my nifty, Ipod ready radio today, which involved much cutting and pounding and filing to make the bracket fit a foreign radio. But hey, you gotta have music. I work a lot harder if I can rock out to Clutch while grinding....

"Doctor or lawer, I'll never be. Life of a drifter, that's the life for me." -'Electric worry'/Clutch

Clutch rocks. Check them out.

Vaminos!

Hope

2009-01-15T15:31:00.003-06:00

I have so much hope now.
Once, all I could feel was despair.
The first time I saw a tree cut down, I ran to my mother in tears.
"How could they DO that??" I wailed.
"That tree was so old, and so beautiful. How could they just destroy it in a matter of minutes?"
Trees were my friends. They embraced me with their branches. Held me swaying, aloft, so that I might gain a larger perspective on my surroundings. They gave me shelter when it rained. They gave me fruit to eat, and air to breathe.
I couldn't understand why anyone would want to kill one.
Soon I found out that LOTS of trees were being killed. I realized most people didn't care about the natural beauty that surrounds us. Nor did they care about the ocean, or the sky, or the earth, or the animals, or each other.
This was the beginning of a very dark period in my life.
After a while, I learned to be numb. I didn't care either. I couldn't, or it would destroy me.
So I played the game I was told to play. I did well in school. I went to college. I got married. I got a good job. I bought a house. I had lots of nice things. I forgot about that tree.

But I always felt like something was missing. There was an empty spot inside me. I tried to fill it with things, or lovers, or beer, or cigarettes, or chocolate. It might retreat for a little while, but it always came back. Then things started to go bad. I left my marriage. I lost my pets. My father killed himself. My house was damaged by a major hurricane. I was working so much to pay for all my crap that my health began to deteriorate.

One day, I snapped. Arguing with clients, arguing with the mortgage company, arguing with the car dealership. I had enough. I flipped out and left work. As I passed the car dealership I wanted nothing more than to drive through the plate glass windows and open fire with my 12 gauge shotgun.

That I should want to do such a thing shocked the hell out of me. I realized that something was really, REALLY wrong that I would even think that.

I went home and got drunk. The next day, I didn't go to work. I sat down and thought about what I really wanted out of life. The answers crept in like frightened children.
I want to live in the country. I want to grow and raise my own food. I want to be part of a community of people that love and respect each other and the earth. I want to go outside and watch the sun rise through the mist and feel love and gratitude for every second of my life. I want to be a part of the SOLUTION.

"There will come a point in your life when you feel like everything is ending. That will be the beginning"

Freedom

2009-01-14T16:13:00.003-06:00

The other day I was talking to a friend. She said, "You are so free, I envy you."
I had to laugh.
I'd been reading a few blogs, and thinking, "She is so free, I envy her."
So I guess freedom comes in varying degrees. Or perhaps varying states of mind.
I am more free than many people I know. I no longer have a house. I no longer have any debt. I have no children or spouse to take care of. So yes, I am free.

But my soul yearns for the open road. In my endless pursuit of freedom I bought a van. If I live in a van, then I will truly be free. I will be able to break the cycle of oppression that involves working my ass off to pay for someplace to live and a bunch of crap I don't need.

Naturally everyone thinks I'm crazy for wanting to live in a van. But after some internet snooping I find out that there are others like me out there. And lots of them are excellent writers! Who knew?

Not only are they excellent writers, they write about the things that matter. The simple beauty of ice, or the moon. The ability to enjoy times with friends, or festivals, or drum circles. The quiet whispers of your soul or the universe that you can only hear when you slow down enough to listen.
And perhaps most importantly to me, right now, how to set up you van so you can live comfortably in it.

This is all very exciting.
It inspires me to try to tell my story, and maybe help others with van dwelling through my mistakes or triumphs. I will write when I can. I don't live in my van yet, so I have to keep quiet enough that the thought police don't kick me out before I have the van ready.
Safe travels y'all.