Living in the country carries with it at least the illusion of independence that extends to self-sufficiency when it comes to the basic necessities. In reality, most of us have become pretty dependent on the infrastructure that supports our lifestyle. Except for rare occasions, electricity courses through our wiring, gas flows into the furnace when it calls for heat, and water flows from the faucets when we turn the spigot. It’s only when we lose some of those things temporarily the we come to appreciate what we have in this country, but also to realize the things we have lost when we begin to take our lifestyle for granted.

Recently, when violent windstorms tore through the Midwest, we were one of the thousands of households that lost power. This being our first winter in the country home, we quickly discovered some differences from city living. Sure, we had thought about it before hand, but sometimes it takes the actual event to find out what you haven’t done to be prepared.

Water was the first issue. When the power went out, there was enough pressure to get a couple of pitchers of drinking water, and it turns out that Sue had thrown a couple of gallons of water into the freezer for just such an occasion. Apparently, a full freezer is more efficient, and the ice will help keep the food frozen longer. I wonder if they knew that back when they used to have ice chests to preserve food? And I always thought the pond was just an attractive amenity with fish, but that pond water sure came in handy for the occasional flush.

Heat, or course, was only critical for comfort, since we were only out of power for a day. If it had been longer, the threat of freezing pipes would have to be considered as well. This is where my lifelong desire for a wood burner finally came into perspective. By feeding the wood burner all day, we were able to keep the house at a very comfortable 65 degrees all day long. When we moved into the house we had swapped a gas stove for the existing electric one because of the better heat control, and when the power went out we found that the new-fangled energy efficient thing had and electric sparker instead of a pilot light. To cook we had to reach back into our ancient tribal knowledge to realize that we could actually light the stove with a match.

It wasn’t until later that the issue of light started to become important. I had in mind to use an old Colman lantern that throws a lot of light. OK, I know you’re not supposed to use it indoors because it gets very hot and it also throws off carbon monoxide, but I always assume that the really bad stuff can’t happen to me. Sue would have none of that kind of thinking, so we went out and bought a new Coleman that runs on batteries. As it turns out, with the new compact fluorescent bulbs, these lanterns are pretty darned efficient and are perfect for occasions of power loss.

We were just settling down to an evening of backgammon, reading, and basking in the warm glow of the fire when we began to realize that we were actually enjoying the feeling. It was calming and a little reassuring that we could spend some time cut off from the “outside” and just enjoy our own company for awhile.  Then all of these domestic noises started back up again. Although we both were a little disappointed that the power was back on, we couldn’t help ourselves. The lights went back on, we dropped a DVD in the player, and the backgammon game went back under the table for another time.

Okay, I'm gonna try and wrap this up now.  So we are "roughing" it and enjoying ourselves and then, about the end of October, the temperature starts to drop; the wind begins to blow. You can't very well have a safe campfire in 40mph-plus winds. We went to using just the stove in the camper, but it quickly got crowded and uncomfortable with four of us plus pets. The establishment where I was working part-time graciously put us up in one of their motel rooms for the first two weeks of November. There were many confrontations with the contractor and the real estate agent during this time. We traveled to grandma and grandpa's for Thanksgiving and by the time we returned, December 1st, we had a junky double-wide – WITH FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF!! Green tag be bleeped, after fighting tooth and nail for this for months (blood, sweat and tears begins to have a literal meaning), we moved in and set up housekeeping.

Electric hookups followed shortly thereafter. It was a bit longer for the propane, but we used kerosene heaters (yechh) donated by a friend who wanted to get them out of his garage, and mountains of blankets, double layers of long johns, and rediscovered the night cap – the kind you wear on your head. Due to a plumbing pipe that kept breaking, we still carried buckets of water into the "house" and heated it on the stove for baths and washing.  After the third "repair" by the plumber, I fixed the pipe myself and ten years later it has not yet broken again. We replaced the old water heater and, with the advent of propane, now had hot and cold running water in the house. With a little oil, the motor on the ancient forced-air unit began to pump warm air through the ducts. We now also had gas to the kitchen stove, and water and gas for the washer and dryer. Victory is ever so sweet.

Lessons learned for rural living:

• If you want something done right, do it yourself. 

• Celebrate the small stuff. When we finally moved into our trailer and got the electricity on, the first thing we did (it being December and all) was put up the Christmas tree and lots of sparkly lights.

• Don't feel bad about wimping out here and there. We're only human, and coming from a pampered lifestyle, it takes time and faith to adjust.

• This IS the good life.

When I first moved out to the 5-acre homestead (we later acquired another 5 next door) with my 3 pre-teens, ten years ago now, we had high hopes of "living off the land" and pipe dreams of self-sufficiency. In the meantime, we lived on our property in a tent and a camper while we waited and waited for the septic to be dug and a run down trailer to be set.

Oh what joy to finally gain shelter once again within four sturdy walls! We heated our water, which we hauled from the town well in a 400 gallon tank on the back of our pick-up, over a campfire until our propane tank was installed and hooked up. And now new delight – water heating over the gas stove, while we carry buckets from the 2500 gallon storage tank to the bathtub for our weekly baths. Then came the golden day when our electric was hooked up and turned on. Ah the luxury of flipping a switch for light, and the electric pump magically bringing water right into the house with only the turn of a faucet! We were kings and queens! Well, I was the queen, they were the royal children.

It's all a matter of perspective out here. Those children are grown (age-wise anyway) now, and I have a 5-year-old son to share the homestead with. We've come a long way from the rundown trailer next door, which is now my workshop for soapmaking, sewing and other miscellaneous projects. Our full ten acres is finally fenced this year, and our small goat and sheep herds, 2 of our 5 horses, our jersey milk cow Mabel, and our chickens are able to graze contentedly and wander at will.

We're still not "living off the land" as much as we'd like, but we keep plugging away at it. I have come to realize that "self-sufficiency" is never completely self-sufficient. But my dream of country life has come true, and I hope to share its ups and downs with you as I contribute to this blog.

Last week we got a surprise batch of guinea chicks. My friend had ordered them, intending to be ready for them when they got here, but wasn't. So she called and I said "sure," forgetting that I was enjoying time off from the "keeping baby creatures alive" struggle.

Anyway, here they are, set up in my spare bathtub, in a large bucket with some hay, 2 heat lamps and their food and water. At a week old, they are the size of day old baby chickens. They are very delicate at this age. Originating in Africa, they require more heat than the chicks I'm used to brooding. We started out with 31 and 13 have survived.

Yup. Our weather just turned a lot colder, so they really need to be draft free and warm. When they arrived, as with any baby chicks, we dipped their beaks in sugar water, about 3 tablespoons to 1 quart of water, and since the feed store didn't have any chick starter, we put some lay crumble through the food processor to powder it, so that their tiny beaks could handle it. The heat lamps are about 18 inches from the floor of the bucket and are still there. We are cutting back on the sugar in the water, but still feeding crumble that has been powdered. These chicks seem to be fairly hardy now, and the death rate has dropped dramatically (knock on wood). We are hoping to get these through the next few weeks and have them ready for pest control in the spring.