Early Spring

Each season has it's charm. The dark greens and long, hot days of Summer. Autumn's cool nights dressed in reds and yellows. Winter's short, white, windy days spent near a warm fire. And Spring, with its light greens and soft pastels. Open the windows, listen to the birds, and feel the sunshine warm your skin!

The coming of Spring brings immediate changes to tent living. With daytime temperatures in the 70s, I leave my door open now. The stall scent of wood stove smoke that permeated my canvas walls all Winter is slowly disappearing. And small friends that I haven't seen since Autumn are popping up for a visit already. So far it's spiders and stink bugs, but more to come later. It's seems it only took one warm day to wake up the spiders. And now that they're awake, they're busy casting their webs across my path again, just as they had last year, leaving me little reminders that warm weather is here again, and that I'd better get used to clearing the webs from my face as I pass through them.

The larger animals are back, too. More birds. And the deer are settled back in. I'll probably see turkey soon, as I did last year. I don't want to think about the ticks yet. Or the mice. But they're all coming, now that Spring is here.

The coming of warm weather brings lifestyle changes, too. Soon I'll be carrying in more water, trying to stay cool. But there's an upside, too. The nights are longer and warmer, so it's time to open up the outside living space and have some friends over! And it's time to pull the wood stove out and set up my indoor living room!

When I installed my wood stove last December, I had to clear out my living area to make room. I was able to keep a small rocking chair off to the side but that was about it. I also pulled up the rug to keep it away from sparks.

Living room with wood stove installed

Now that Spring is here, the wood stove is out and the rug and furniture are back in!

Living room without wood stove

Spring is my favorite season. The short, cold days of Winter are behind, and the hot Summer days and nights are still ahead. Spring brings me back to life, just like the creatures that I live with.

But I gotta say, I'm starting to miss my cold Winter beers already :)

Living in the Moment

I used to practise mindful meditation. The way I did it was to observe my own train of conscious thought. For example, as I drove down the road, I'd observe how my conscious mind would wander here and there while my subconscious mind and body would continue driving. I'd try to catch myself in these mental states and remind myself to "stay in the moment". To observe the grass and trees and fences as I passed them by. To stop reminiscing about yesterday. To stop thinking about tomorrow. To enjoy the experience of driving down the road.

That style of meditation worked well for me, especially when I was stressed or worried or depressed. So long as I could maintain that state of mindfulness, I was able to step away from my problems. But it was an active process that took a lot of focus and mental energy. It was work. And it always felt like I was somehow just treating the symptoms of my problems instead of addressing the causes. Even so, it was an effective tool that I used often, and it worked.

In the past several months, I've sort of forgotten about practicing meditation. At the same time, I feel like I'm living in the present moment now more than ever. What happened?

Well, I have a theory. If I look back on the times when I used to practice mindfulness, I see that it was always during difficult periods of my life. When I was worried about losing my job. Or when I would lay awake at night thinking about all the things I had to do the next day. I was treating the symptoms, but what were the causes?

I recently pondered that question and came up with this cause-and-effect chain:

That's how it used to be for me. I'd get stressed and worried over things that were out of my control, or bad things that I thought might happen in the future, or my never ending "to do" list.

As I searched for a "root cause" to my stress and anxiety, I found Materialism and Complexity. Tent living has eliminated Materialism and Complexity from my life. Is it any wonder that it's easier now to live in the moment without practicing mindful meditation?

Rain

It rained last night. It started as just a sprinkle at around 11pm, just when I had crawled into bed. As soon as I heard the first few random drops, I rolled over onto my back and laid quietly, a smile crossing my face, and listened. I had noticed crickets chirping earlier in the evening. It was the first time that I had heard them so loud, a nice sign of warming weather. So as the rain began, I listened to see whether I could still hear them in the background. But after just a few minutes, the storm intensified and drowned out all the other sounds.

My tent began filling with white noise. The rain fly is a thick poly tarp and it resonates at a low frequency when struck by raindrops. As the rain fell harder, the noise in the tent increased until the whole tarp buzzed with a low-pitched drone.

Soon, I was fast asleep. I awoke at 7am to my cell phone alarm. The rain was still going strong so I snoozed. And snoozed again. When I finally decided to get up, I remembered that I was out of water, but instead of walking to the water supply, I decided to place a pot outside along the eaves of the rain fly to catch some rain water for my bath. There was just enough potable water left in my container for a pot of coffee, so I made one and put it on the stove.

As my bathing pot filled with rainwater, and my coffee pot began to perk, I looked out onto the path to my home. It had become a little river, with large section being overtaken by runoff that was making its way to the creek just below my tent. I gazed for awhile longer until I started to smell the coffee. By then, my bathing pot was full so I brought it inside and put it on the stove to warm. Surprisingly, this was the first time that I'd collected rainwater that way, but it won't be the last. The rainwater was noticeably softer than the well water that I usually bathe in, plus I didn't have to walk through the rain to fetch it.

It's early afternoon now and the rain has stopped. The sky is starting to lighten and soon the sun will be out again. My path will be a muddy mess for a few days, and now that we're getting closer to Spring, it will be like that more and more often. But my nights will be good, and I'll sleep well as those Spring showers make their way to Virginia, and my rain fly.

On Being "Off the Grid"

Last week, we had our worst Winter storm so far this season. It started Tuesday evening around 8pm and got progressively worse through the night. The wet, heavy snow accumulated on everything, including on the pine tree branches above my tent.

At about 3am, the wind picked up and started blowing the accumulation from the tree limbs. My tent was bombarded with heavy slush-balls that made a loud "Pow!...P-Pow!...Pow!" as they crashed onto the rain fly. My lady, Jeanie, and our dog, Max, were spending the night, and we all three woke up and looked around as the bombardment began, trying to figure out what was going on. At first, I thought it must be tree limbs breaking and striking the tent, but it didn't really sound like that. Max was sitting up in the bed, fully alert, snapping his head from side to side as the slush-balls struck the tent over here, then over there, then over here again.

The bombardment continued on into the morning, and we had a hard time getting back to sleep. We finally gave up and crawled out of bed around 9am. As I put on the morning coffee, Jeanie mentioned that she'd have to call her daughters back home to see whether they'd lost power.

Fortunately, Jeanie's power was still on, but over the next few days I ran into plenty of people who had lost power due to fallen limbs and trees. And as I talked with people after the storm (people that weren't aware of my current lifestyle) they'd ask me: "Did you lose power?"

The first few times, I just said, "No, I didn't lose power", not wanting to get into long explanations. But that started bothering me a little because it wasn't exactly honest, so I tried, "Well, I'm not sure whether power went out in my area", which was closer to the truth, but led to questions like, "Oh? Where were you during the storm?" Oops. That didn't work, either, since I had to explain things anyway. Once I tried, "Well, I currently live in a tent without electricity", but that, of course, got me back into a long explanation.

Later that day, I came up with a nice, honest, short response: "I'm off the grid". There.

Being "off the grid" is something people have heard of and can relate to, unlike "living in a tent". When I say I'm off the grid I get questions like, "Really? Totally off the grid?", to which I respond with a simple, "Yep, totally", but that's it. No long discussion about tent living.

It's interesting that it never really occurred on me that I am, indeed, off the grid. It's been more of a byproduct of how I live than an objective. When one of my co-workers mentioned that he had always wanted to live off the grid (not knowing that I live in a tent), I said, "Well, it's pretty easy to do, but you have to make lifestyle changes". He said that he'd like to talk to me sometime about how I did it. So much for avoiding long conversations!

Recipe for Coconut Fried Roots and Salmon

Coconut Fried Roots and Salmon

1. Marinade one pound of sockeye salmon in a mixture of teriyaki, soy sauce, curry, black pepper, and beer for about an hour.
2. Heat about five tablespoons of coconut oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.
3. Slice one potato, one turnip, and one onion. Put veggies in the oil and fry them until they're a little brown, then turn down the heat and cook until almost done. Add something hot and spicy, like diced jalapeno peppers or Asian peanut sauce.
4. Toward the end, move the veggies over to the side of the pan and fry the fish.

Garnish with a few slices of cheddar cheese and enjoy!

Oh hell yes!

Quiet Whispers from My Sanctuary

Several weeks ago, I hit a bump in the road of my life. I've been very blessed in so many ways throughout my life. I have three wonderful children, three incredible granddaughters, a good job, good health, my music, and good friends that I can always count on. But some weeks back, I hit a difficult period in my life that really got me sidetracked for awhile. I became angry and obsessive. And for awhile, I lost track of how lucky I am, and how wonderful life really is.

I started losing sleep, worry about my problems. I just couldn't shake the negative thoughts. They were consuming me. And even when I was home, in my tent, where I had always been so relaxed and carefree, even there I'd sit and stew about my problems.

Then, a few nights ago, I was home for the evening, tending to the fire, cooking dinner, and listening to music, and it dawned on me that I wasn't enjoying myself. I wasn't in that centered place anymore. I wasn't experiencing the calm and happiness that I usually did. I wasn't accepting the gifts that my sanctuary offers.

My home was trying to remind me of all the good things in life. Of how lucky we are just to be alive. Of how simple life can be. And with that gentle reminder, that quiet whisper, I started to come out of my slump.

Last night, finally, I smiled again, and had a good night's sleep. Thank you, my sanctuary, for taking such good care of my soul.

Staying Warm in the Winter

It's January now, and temperatures are dropping. My friends worry about me this time of year. They ask me how I'm doing. A few of them have invited me into their homes for the winter, or for a break from the cold. But I reassure them that I'm doing okay, and that I have Virginia winters in a tent pretty much figured out now.

January and February are the cold months in Virginia, with highs in the 40s and lows in the 20s. That's pretty cold, but I've been acclimating. I'm pretty comfortable now standing around in a T-shirt and bare feet at 35 degrees. (Well, for a little while anyway.) And some of these sunny January days feel downright balmy.

Not only am I acclimating to the cold, I'm also accepting the cold more now. I think that's another secret to staying comfortable. I expect my fingers to be numb as I gather tinder and kindling for the evening fire. And adjusting kerosene lamps and striking matches without the sense of touch is normal this time of year.

And then there are the warm time. The cozy times. Even the hot times, when I have to open the door and let some cold air in because the wood stove got too hot.

A lingering hint of wood smoke is always present in the tent this time of year, and I like that. Every time I open the stove door, a little puff of smoke escapes. But I don't like too much smoke. Turns out it takes very little smoke to set off a smoke detector in a 12' x 14' tent. "Beep! Beep! Fire! Fire!" I hear it every night. Granted, it's a friendly female voice that says, "Fire! Fire!", but it's still annoying.

I can get away with letting out one puff of smoke once in a while, maybe two. But if three of four escape it's, "Beep! Beep! Fire! Fire!", followed by me hitting the "hush" button on the smoke detector and opening the door to clear out the smoke. One minute it'll be 80 degrees and nice and cozy and I'll be putting another log on the fire, and the next minute I'll be running around, opening the door, and freezing again.

But usually, things work just fine and I stay warm. In fact, I've only had one wood stove failure this year. It happened the second night that I burned the stove.

It was the middle of the night, maybe 4am. I woke up to urinate and on my way back to bed opened the stove door to check on the fire. There was a wonderful bed of coals, maybe 5 inches deep, with a couple of pieces of nearly-burnt wood sitting on top. The fuel would soon be gone so I figured I'd load up the stove. I smiled thinking about how comfortable the rest of the night would be, and how I'd wake up to a nice warm tent.

I put in a few small pieces of wood first, then bigger ones on top of those. The coals were really hot so the smaller pieces took off immediately. Flames started roaring up the stove pipe as I placed more and more wood in the fire box.

As I finished loading the stove, the flames were still roaring so I got the poker out and moved the wood around a little to calm things down. It was right about then that I heard a, "Thwup!". What was that? Sounded like something went up the stove pipe. But what? No paper in there. Maybe...

Holy crap! Flames started belching out of the door! I shut it immediately. Now smoke was pouring out of the draft holes in the stove door! "Beep! Beep! Fire! Fire!"

I was still half asleep. I wasn't thinking straight. Everything was happening so quickly. "Beep! Beep! Fire! Fire!" It was dark but I could smell smoke. Thick smoke. I ran out of the tent.

I left the door open and smoke rolled out. I stepped away from the door to catch some fresh air. "Beep! Beep! Fire! Fire!" I was now standing outside in my underwear in 30 degrees, trying to compose myself and figure out what to do next.

I reached inside the door and grabbed my flashlight. The tent was filled with smoke from the ceiling down to within two feet of the floor. I could see thick smoke still pouring out of the draft holes. "Beep! Beep! Fire! Fire!"

Okay, I was wide awake now. Don't breathe the smoke. Don't even breathe near the floor. You've already inhaled too much. "Beep! Beep! Fire! Fire!" Hold your breath, go close the draft, and kill that damn smoke detector!

Ready? Go!......Done, and back outside.

Okay, think. There was that "Thwup!" noise. What the hell was that? Damn it's cold out here! Sounded like paper going up the pipe. But no paper in there. Bark? Maybe bark? Damn it's cold!

I shined the flashlight back in. The smoke was starting to clear. I could see what was going on a little better now. The stove wasn't smoking, but smoke was seeping out of the cracks in the stove pipe. That meant the obstruction was outside, high in the pipe. But how? What was going on? Damn it's cold!

Okay, hold your breath and go get some clothes!...Okay, back outside.

I stood on the stoop for some time, waiting for the pipes to stop seeping smoking, but they never did. One more dash into the tent to grab my pillow and sleeping bag, then out to my truck for the night.

The next day, I took apart a section of stove pipe and immediately found out what had happened. I had installed new pipe. Black pipe. Black painted pipe. And the paint had peeled from the inside of the pipe. The "Thwup!" that I had heard was the sound of a sheet of peeled paint breaking loose on three sides and hinging itself nice and tight in the stove pipe. A fine obstruction. In fact, there were two obstructions just like that!

That was an exciting night. I've had other nights when the smoke has chased me out for awhile. Like when I tried to build the fire too quickly and the whole thing went out and smoked up the place. Things like that. But usually it's warm and cozy. So don't worry, friends. I'm hanging in there. And Spring is getting closer all the time!