Showing posts with label eye candy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eye candy. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

swale/contour garden examples

Just a bit of inspiration:

I can only hope that my garden beds will turn out to be a fraction as tidy and beautiful as these ones.

Not a swale or contour bed, but this is a very similar orientation as our cabin.
Our westerly view is to into the hillside, which is nice on hot summer days.

I always find it funny when I see beds on contour on flat land. But I suppose they still work.

I dig the "toilet". I always thought peeing indoors was kinda gross.
Jay says he'll continue to use the indoor bathroom, thankyouverymuch.

I vow to accumulate enough beer bottles
for this. Watch out Heineken.

And that's all I have today, folks.

p.s. selling a house sucks!

Friday, May 4, 2012

friday eye candy: spooky spiders and mossy barns

Get your Appalachia fix.




Sorry, no cute, fluffy livestock yet. Just scary spiders and mossy barns.

Happy Friday, lovecats!

~ Mitsy

Friday, March 9, 2012

swimming ponds

One thing I've hinted at before that I want for our homestead is a pond. While I don't think a large pond meant for livestock watering needs makes much sense considering the lay of our land, I can't stop thinking about how awesome it would be to have a small water feature that's meant just for us. Something that we (and maybe even the dogs) can cool off in during the summer that also enhances the landscape. Set a few plastic chairs in the shallow part and read a good book drinking Coronas on a hot summer day. Bliss!

In researching small ponds, I came to discover what they call natural swimming pools, or swimming ponds. Basically, you have a water feature that includes a deep(er) area for swimming and a connected shallow area that is filled with bog plants that clean the water naturally. No chemicals, looks lovely, and has a functional purpose, to boot.

I found a few images that are kinda what I have in mind:

[ image credit ]

[ image credit ]

Since I couldn't find exactly what I envisioned on the interwebs, I threw a drawing together in Sketchup:

Kinda like a giant hot tub. Except not hot and not a tub. But good to sit in anyway.

Idyllic, no?

As back breaking as it might seem, I think this could be shoveled out over a few weekends and not require a backhoe.

So the darker part is the swimming (really, more a soaking) area, and the lighter ring around it would be the bog where the plants grow to filter the water. I threw some koi fish in there, too, for shits and giggles.

There's Jay testing the water to make sure it's safe for me and Clyde Dog to swim in (and looking extra cool in the process). Clyde Dog would no doubt also sit with me quite contentedly while I drink Mexican beer and read Dean Koontz novels and glossy farm magazines and soak my feet (and possibly take a nap). Barker would probably not be too interested, and they didn't have an American Bulldog model in Sketchup, so I didn't include him. It will definitely need to be fenced off from the rogue chicken gang, though, because swimming in bird poop is not my idea of a relaxing good time.

Location-wise, I think an ideal spot might be the bermed area above the cabin. It sounds frightening to have a body of water positioned above our abode, but this spot gets a lot of runoff during storms and there's actually an existing ditch that I could connect the swimming pond to, making it all the easier to fill it and keep it full.

Like this:

You can sorta make out the
north/south ditch just to the right...

This area has lots of nice shade in the summer. Yes, yes I think a swimming pond is quite in order. And if you come help me dig it, I'll let you swim/soak in it anytime you want. REALLY. help me


Sayonara, fishies, enjoy the weekend!

~ Mitsy

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

clinch river beauty

I can't WAIT to float this baby in the summertime...

I think my innertube will tie up very nicely on that thar tree...

Our friends own this killer riverfront parcel.

We could probably walk home if we got all pickled down by the river. But it would be a very long walk.

That tree on the left looks like it's flinging its arms out to keep from falling down the mountain.
I see strange things in nature sometimes.

Monday, January 30, 2012

flora and other farm prettiness

I was planning to do this series documenting each day during our last trip to the holler, which was back in late November/early December, but it is now almost February, and doing that seems totally retarded to me now. But because I still have more pictures from our trip that I wish to share, I will post some pictures of the local flora instead because I find it all magical and beautiful and shit and am getting some serious spring fever sitting at my desk over here in my windowless office.

So here you go:

Ridgeline view from the barn.

Weathered barn wood + sprinkling of clouds = happy Mitsy.

Jay is not flora, but he sure looks good in it.

I still trip out on being able to see through deciduous trees.

Kinda Sally-Mann-ish composition. She's from Virginia, you know! Or is it West Virginia. I don't remember.

gah, want. to. organize. NOW

Golden.

Purplish.

This image is out of focus. My bad.

Crunchy.
Tomorrow: Clinch River beautifulness.

Friday, January 13, 2012

buying land in a poor area

[ warning, I blab a lot in this post ]

When relocating, people usually decide what amenities they can't live without and narrow their search to find their ideal location. Common requests include highly rated schools, a low crime rate, diverse shopping options, reasonable utility expenses, efficient transportation and communications options, and a decent entertainment scene (whatever that may entail). Although they may balk, all these amenities come at a price, usually in the form of higher property and/or income taxes as well as more bureaucracy, and most people grudgingly accept such trade-offs as necessary. Such a bucket list usually means that economically depressed areas get crossed off the list right away because poor areas usually have more drug use, a lower high school graduation rate, ineffective or nonexistent social services, a stagnant business climate (leading to few jobs), and perhaps community eyesores/trashiness that are not acceptable in certain minds. People that are relatively well off can't envision themselves downgrading their standards and people less fortunate are usually looking to improve upon what they see as a lower standard of living if at all possible.

Our relocation needs differed vastly from the majority of folks:

1) Our number one requirement was to be in the  mountains and live in a scenic setting surrounded by nature and abundant natural resources. We had to have fertile soil, a plentiful water source, and lots of solar gain (aka, a predominantly south-facing parcel). We wanted a large chunk of acreage, with privacy being paramount, thus allowing us freedom to focus on whatever homesteading projects we dream up while encountering as little bureaucracy as possible.

2) Kids are not in our future, so good schools were irrelevant (although some may argue that good schools still benefit the child-free in the form of less crime, a better educated workforce, etc).

3) While I do like to shop, I don't mind driving an hour or two to get there (adventure!), and homesteading will inherently mean doing much less food shopping, and most other shopping can be done online (therefore, we did need to be able to have UPS find us).

4) We rarely patronize traditional entertainment venues, such as bars, movie theaters, bowling alleys, and so forth, although we do like to find honest restaurants and I love me a classic festival with vendors and carnival food (fortunately, southern Appalachia has many!). I'll take a scenic mountain backdrop, clear flowing river, or flowering meadow any day over cultivated entertainment.

5) We were prepared to trade off common conveniences, such as indoor laundry, automatic dishwashing, and supermarket prepared foods, for independence in the form of hand-washed and line-dried clothes, good conversation while washing and drying dishes, and growing, hunting, and preserving food that comes from our own land. One convenience that was still essential to us, however, was decent communications, and although we don't have a land line for DSL or cable internet at the holler, we plan to use our cell phones as hot spots for our internet connection (we haven't had much luck finding a device that boosts our signal enough, but we haven't given up hope yet).

6) Utilities had to be inexpensive, and we wanted to be able to explore alternative energy and waste options, such as composting toilets, solar capture, and rainwater catchment.

7) While no one wants to live in a high crime area, petty crime is a lot different than violent crime, and we understood that petty crimes, such as thievery and drug use, generally accompany poor areas as a result of desperation. We were really not concerned with being able to defend our homestead if the need ever arose. And being a good neighbor goes a long way in rural areas since people are more likely to keep an eye out for you when you treat them with respect.

8) Plentiful and decent paying jobs are usually the biggest concern for most folks. In our case, we are intentionally slowing down, simplifying, and embracing frugality in exchange for independence from the financially-fueled world. Expenses are still very real, but our goal is to diversify our income stream using our current skills, decrease our spending substantially (not having kids makes that a lot easier), and attempt to live off our land as much as possible. Jay and I feel pretty confident that we will be able to keep food on the table, a roof over our melons, and maybe have a little fun money to spare. Only time will tell how successful we are, but this is not something new, and many people have successfully transitioned from full-time employment and high-expense households to voluntary simplicity.

Inserting a picture here to keep your attention in case you're bored outta your mind with my ramblings.

Hancock County is the poorest county in Tennessee and the 27th poorest county by median income in the United States (as of 2010). In order to be able to try out each income-producing pursuit that we've tossed around and find the one(s) that work best, we've decided to start saving now and hope to have enough of a nest egg to cover our mortgage, utilities, and food requirements for two years once we move to the holler. We have no other debt than our mortgage, and not having to worry about basic living needs should allow us to focus our energy on building our income survival base, and when the time comes to start living off our income instead of savings, we'll be able to transition relatively easy.

There's always the possibility that we will fail miserably at all our money making pursuits and end up working at the local fast food joint, but even if that happens, we should still be able to survive.

I can't find the link, but I read somewhere about the benefits of buying in an economically depressed rural area, a few of which include: low property tax rates (due to few services), a strong sense of community (everyone has gotta band together to survive), inexpensive property, a small population density ratio, and a general freedom to do whatever you want (as long as you're not negatively affecting anyone else). I find this last benefit the most interesting and applicable to homesteading life.

Few restrictions means that you are able to make your land work for you instead of the other way around. More specifically:
  • Growing food in the form of vegetables and meat instead of buying someone else's (your garden doesn't have to be pretty to impress the neighbors - but it probably will be anyway!)
  • Harvesting precious water, either by spring/creek/river, ponds, or rainwater catchment, instead of paying a utility company.
  • Harnessing solar power for the use of modern electric conveniences and eventually perhaps disconnecting from the grid.
  • Collecting downed trees and growing new ones for firewood.
  • Using animals and their natural instincts/skills for homesteading chores (goats for clearing, pigs for tilling soil, dogs for protection, cats for rodent control, and so on).
  • Using wildlife to sustainably fill your freezer and keep the local ecosystem in check (aka, deer population control).
  • Caring for your land in the manner that works best for your family and the critters that help make survival possible.
  • Caring for your neighbors and the community at large by sharing your excess goods when possible and helping those in greater need than you.
Let's all say a collective "Awwww!"

Still with me? Awesome possum.

Now granted, you could probably do a lot of these things in a better economic suburban or even urban setting, but being out the sticks has one huge advantage: people leave you alone (for the most part). Unless you're being an ass about something, no one cares what you do. They don't mind your ugly new DIY solar contraption (since they can't see it), your barking dogs (you're far enough away from them after all), the [insert farm animal here] that occasionally escapes their confines (since you'll probably share the bounty with them at slaughter time), a few gunshots here and there (venison anyone?), the occasional burn pile that may have questionable burnable items, or the pick up truck that finally bit the dust and has now become yard art. They might even get a chuckle out of your attempted homesteading projects and aspirations and decide to help you out when you can't figure out how to milk your new goats. But the bottom line is that I see the above attributes as essentially helping one to become financially and socially independent (to a certain degree), and that is a very important goal to Jay and myself.

We bought a property that spans an entire box canyon all the way up the mountain for a few reasons, two of which I've already mentioned: privacy and defensibility. I realize the latter sounds a bit paranoid, but I don't want to have to get another landowner's permission in order to be able to fend off zombies in the coming apocalypse. Kidding! sorta

Privacy is paramount as well. I want to be able to take a pee right there when I'm in the middle of a gardening chore, skinny dip in our to-be-dug-in-the-future pond, hoard supplies for future projects without worrying about neighborhood aesthetics (in a tidy and organized manner of course), and have a place to bury the bodies. Kidding again! yes, I really am this time

All this is a really long-winded way of saying that we know we're weirdos and have strange aspirations that might not jive with societal expectations, but there is a rhyme and reason to our thinking, and I hope that maybe others out there can be inspired to think a little differently when it comes to determining what is important in life. This is all new to us, and I may read this post five years from now and chuckle at our naïveté, but hey, life is an adventure, and it would be pretty boring if everyone wanted to live in picture perfect neighborhoods, drive new cars, and spend eight hours working for someone else every day (which both of us do now, by the way).

Mitsy thanks you for reading through to the end by rewarding you with an image of some yard art.
Junkyards can be hauntingly beautiful, you know!

Thursday, January 12, 2012

day 2 at the holler

It certainly was frosty on our second day back at the holler.

Crunchy grass.

The dinner bell. Yea, we have a freaking dinner bell!

But then the sun creeped over the ridge,
and everything was right with the universe.

We ventured out via automobile on back roads. Top of our ridge as seen from Virginia.

Then we got some lunch at Pal's Sudden Service in Kingsport and ate delicious chili dogs and burgers and peach tea.

Found the nearest package store and stocked up on whiskey.

Our new memory foam mattress and petite sofa had arrived when we returned
(sorry we were late Mr. Delivery Man From Knoxville, whoops).

Our wood stove works well. Like let's-get-to-100-degrees-in-2-hours well.
We actually had to open all the windows and doors in
20-degree weather to cool the cabin down a bit.

I think it was that night that we agreed our two-year time frame for moving out to the holler was just way too long. 2012 sounds much better.

more manana, my peeps...

~ Mitsy

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

future farm critters - part 2: piggies

Two breeds of porkers that we like the sound of are Ossabaw Island and Red Wattle/Waddle hogs. First we'll talk about the Ossies (yes, I coined that phrase just now).

Spotted, hairy piggies make me squeal.
[ image courtesy Nature's Harmony Farm ]

Apparently, a bunch of Spaniards left these guys to fend for themselves on an isolated piece of dirt in Georgia called Ossabaw Island. Because they were feral, the breed stayed pretty small (about 200 pounds market weight), forages well, and will drink just about anything. They'll root up all sorts of shit, so best to put them someplace where you want to take advantage of that, like out in the woods or in a new garden area or whatever. My garden is pictured below with me in the background hoe-ing away.

YEAH. RIGHT.
[ image courtesy Country Living ]

I could only hope for a fraction of the beautifulness of this garden.

Anyway, Ossies are supposed to be pretty independent. (We like independent. I'm lazy.) They're supposed to be excellent mamas and have an extremely high healthy birth rate. (Because I don't want to have to help a pig give birth, I ASSURE YOU.)

And tasty, too. Because although I have no experience with slaughtering swine, this will be the end result, and I love me some bacon and chops. And ribs. And sausage.

In direct contrast, Red Wattle hogs are BIG. Like 1,200 pound market weight big. And they get big fast because they're lazy. Their exact origin is unknown, but they might originally be from Australia. Ossies (my newfound word) + Aussies = clearly a sign that we should raise both. They're good mamas, too, and have crazy appendages that I find weirdly charming hanging off their cheeks, hence, the wattle descrip.

Wattle: the appendix equivalent of pig facial features.
[ image courtesy porkfoodservice.org ]

I don't care if they're edible, though, I'm not eating the wattles.

The Ark of Taste describes the Red Wattle hog as "...known for their hardiness, foraging activity, and rapid growth rate. The sows are excellent mothers, who labor litters of 9-10 piglets, and provide good quantities of milk for their large litters.  They adapt well to a wide range of climates, making them a good choice for consideration in outdoor or pasture-based swine production. Red Wattle pork is exceptionally lean and juicy with a rich beef-like taste and texture."

That last line is what has me sold. Next in the future farm critters series (but not necessarily the next post because, holy smokes I have some holler pictures to show off): St. Croix sheep!

over and out, hoeboats

~ Mitsy

Sunday, December 11, 2011

day 1 at the holler

We thought that flying a red-eye and being able to sleep on the plane would make the trip out to the holler a little more bearable. Make it feel like we're not wasting an entire day traveling. But Jay didn't get any sleep on the flight at all, and driving two hours after being on a plane for six hours in morning city traffic really kinda messes with your senses. Your perception of time is totally thrown off, and while we were tired, we proceeded to get the cabin organized once we got there around 10:30am. The mattress and bed frame had arrived unscathed, woo hoo!

We went to Wal-Mart (I swear I'm going to stop shopping there once we move) and got a few things like a coffee table, end table, and other odds and ends. Then we polished off the last of the CR and called it a night.

Coffee table assembly.



Sun coming down the mountain.

Abandoned house next door. We were told this was probably "Mama's house",
which will likely remain unoccupied forever. Perfect neighbor.

Deciduous trees allow the sunlight through in winter. RAD.


Ski is a delicious lemon/orange carbonated beverage.
Makes an excellent chaser.

Need some SNP artwork, of course.



RELAX.