Best time to start was Yesterday. Second best time is right this minute.

So we woke up Sunday morning to an unusually cold house.   I admit that we turn the heat down quite a bit at night, and I admit that I keep the bedroom window open a crack even in the winter time – making it a pretty chilly room sometimes. . . . . . But THIS was cold even for me!

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to confirm that our stupid furnace wasn’t working.  Oh Burrrrruther!  SO not convenient!   In fact, we suspected it may have stopped working the day before.  We had been out most of the day and went to bed as soon as we got home.  Upon reflection it did seem a little chilly to me.  . . . . . Could have been off a good 24 hours before we discovered it.  Sheesh!  Its November in Edmonton!  You don’t get along for too long without a dependable heat source!

Lucky for me Dan was home, so he could take charge of figuring it out – LOL.  I hate doing that sorta thing.  Unfortunately however, none of his ideas worked.  Lucky for both of us, our son in law Ray lives within an hour’s drive.   He’s a pretty smart guy, AND he works with furnaces.  He put his Sunday going-to-church-with-his-family plans aside so that he could come help Dan fix the furnace.  (Thanks again Ray)  It was a bigger problem than any of us expected and he needed a part that could not be purchased on Sunday.  So that meant another 24+ hours without our furnace running.  This was SO not in the plan for a cold November day.

The thing about these kinds of occurrences is that they seldom are “IN the plan“, but planning for their possibilities makes all the difference in how you get through them.  They quickly move to the top of your list of priorities without much warning.  Seriously, in Edmonton a furnace is pretty close to the top of any priority list in November.  Fortunately for us it wasn’t bitter cold outside and fortunately for us again, there wasn’t a strong wind blowing.  Both things to be grateful for, but there were other things to be grateful for too.  Factors that contributed to how this next 48 hours played out.

Let me tell you the “rest of the journey”.

Among the many factors that went into making this experience easier for us, I want to focus on four.  Things that we were very glad to have paid attention to when they were manageable and affordable.  Perhaps you might find them helpful too, so here they are.

Factor #1
At the beginning of our married life, we committed to do our very best to prepare our home and family for potential hardships.

That early decision smoothed out many difficulties over the years and prevented undue stress at times when we would have been least able to deal with it.

We knew some of these preparatory projects would cost hard-to-come-by-money in those early years.  We committed to make those things a priority, and sometimes priorities require sacrifice.  We also knew we couldn’t afford to do everything at once.  It would be a work in progress, that we would complete one step at a time.  As we could afford it.

Factor #2
As part of that ongoing commitment to prepare ourselves, several years ago – maybe 15 years ago, we invested in reinsulating our house.   (We also re-insulated the first house we owned many many years ago.  It seemed like a good investment.  And it certainly paid off.)  We paid particular attention to the attic where Dan blew a special insulation all over the surface of it.  This may seem like an unusual project in preparation for future hardship, but remember, we live in Edmonton. …..  We planned for the extra insulation keeping our house more efficient winter and summer.  Truly it has paid off.  Big time.  Many times we continue to still be amazed at how long the house keeps its warmth in the winter, and how long it keeps a morning coolness in the summer.

Factor #3
About a decade ago, we decided to save up and buy a wood burning stove.  We did considerable research before choosing one, and we had it installed in our basement that November.  It became a major part of our Christmas that year.  We opted for a free standing woodstove that had a flat top upon which we could boil water and perhaps even cook a meal if needed.  We positioned it to be on the other side of the wall of a 250 gallon water tank which stands in the adjoining laundry room.  No mistake on the positioning of it.  Having 250 gallons of clean water is a wonderful thing, but losing heat in an Edmonton winter could freeze that water, and turn a very good thing – VERY bad.  That was a major concern of ours, and we deliberated upon how to prevent potential freezing in the event of heat loss.  The wood stove would serve a dual purpose.  Heat the basement, and prevent the water from freezing.

Factor #4
A wood burning stove is useless without a lotta wood!  So we purchased a few cords of clean-burning wood and stored it in our backyard.  We have a stash close to the back door, and we have a bin in the basement close to the stove.   We keep kindling nearby, and of course matches.  We learned the trick of lighting a fire in a wood burning stove when the outside chimney is 40 below zero.  If you think that isn’t important, then you have never tried it.  Cold air in the chimney makes it impossible for lighter warm air to rise above it.  The result? A smoked out house that takes weeks to get the smoke smell out.  Don’t ask me how I know this.

Factor #5
We tried for years to put a few dollars aside for emergencies.  We weren’t always successful but our hearts were in it and we tried to make it a priority.  Sometimes that is more difficult than one might imagine.  We get it.  However, a little here and a little there is what makes the difference.  Some thing is better than nothing.  Having a few extra dollars on hand can take a potential tragedy and turn it into an inconvenience.  And the opposite is equally true.

So with these factors in mind, let’s return to our Sunday without a furnace.  There were so many things to be grateful for that turned our experience into nothing more than an inconvenience.  The absence of some of the preparatory steps however could have had a completely different outcome.

Good thing / Bad thing
I like to play the good thing – bad thing game.  It helps me put things into perspective and appreciate blessings in my life.

* Good thing –  this happened on a day that Dan was home. Yay for me.
* Bad thing –   he couldn’t fix it.  Boo.
* Good thing –  Ray was in town and able to come and help. Yay.
* Bad thing –  he couldn’t fix it without an important component (the board), that could not be purchased on Sunday.  Boo.
* Good thing –  we have a gas fireplace upstairs.  We turned it on as soon as we realized we had no other heat.  We also have a wood stove in the basement.  Dan lit the fire right away and added some logs to it.
* Good thing –  the wood stove downstairs soon heated the basement to a toasty warm and we only needed a few logs to maintain it.
* Good thing – Dan kept a supply of house suitable logs cut and accessible for winter burning.
* Good thing –  we were surprised at not only how sufficiently the wood stove heated the basement, but how much of that heat flowed upward to keep the main level comfortable.  It wasn’t long before we were able to turn the gas fireplace off.  Of course sweaters and slippers were useful in keeping us comfortable.
* Good thing: once the house was comfortably heated again, it retained that warmth for an exceptionally long time.  Thank goodness for good insulation.
* Good thing – extra quilts and duvets made sleeping comfortable.
* Good thing – we had set enough aside for emergencies,  to cover the unexpectedly high cost of the new furnace piece we needed. Something to be especially grateful for.

By Sunday afternoon, we understood the earliest we would have a working furnace was late afternoon the following day.  Before bed we stoked the fire and kept it burning low.  Fortunately we still had embers in the morning that made reigniting it quick and easy.  We were pleased and surprised to note that the house had maintained a reasonable warmth during the night, and that the next morning was considerably less chilly than the previous one.

The moral of the story is to plan for and be prepared for emergencies which are reasonable in your area.  Sometimes those emergencies take the form of unfortunate situations.  Prepare for those too.  Sometimes that preparedness is the result of years of effort and commitment.  Usually that is the case.
One of my favourite mottos is “Best time to start was yesterday.  Second best time is right now.”

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

What is Something Worth?

Many years ago, I lost my punch bowl in a move. . . .
I mentioned it to my sister and asked her to keep her eye open for one if she came across a good deal.   She phoned me one day to say “I found a punch bowl at a garage sale.   I picked it up for you if you still want one.   I paid five dollars for it.   The only problem is that its blue.”
I paid her for it and it really was quite lovely – even though it was ‘blue’.
Who would make a blue punch bowl anyway?   And why?   It makes your red punch look brown.
Still, we used it when we had company.   I would ask one of the kids to “go down and get the punch bowl“.   It started out with twelve cups but sadly, one got broken.   And the ladle is long since disappeared.   But life happens right? 

Some time later I happened to be browsing in an antique store and found the identical set.   Priced at almost $400 Cdn.  !!!   Whoah!   It is surprising how a little education can change one’s perspective.

When I thought it was worth five dollar I sent the kids to retrieve it, I let the kids wash it.  Suddenly I was saying “Don’t touch the punch bowl!  I will get it.”   In actual fact it was an INDIANA CARNIVAL GLASS Blue Harvest Grape Punch bowl set.   Popular when my grandmothers were setting up housekeeping, although neither of them had anything like it.

Even though it was the same punch bowl set, I became a little more invested in it.   A little more stressed out about ‘the kids bringing it up stairs’.   What if it dropped?   What if …. heaven forbid, another cup got broken?   Although I always take good care of things, I began to take especially good care of this punch bowl.   I began washing it personally and carefully.   I dried it personally and carefully.   . . . . .
What made the difference?   The punches I served in it still tasted the same, still a little strangely coloured because of the blue glass.   The same.   Outwardly nothing had changed.  The only thing that had changed was one little piece of information that I hadn’t been aware of before.   Information that had always been true – I just didn’t know about it.   A detail that involved somebody else’s perspective.  . . . .  IT had not changed.   I changed.   My understanding changed.   And that changed my behaviour.

It remains a good analogy to me of many things,  but mostly to contemplate what I might be worth, considering the high price my Saviour paid for me.   At some points in my life – I may have convinced myself I was only worth five dollars, and if that was true, then clearly I didn’t need nor deserve special care.   But the fact is, someone paid a very high price for me – whether I understood it or not.   Whether I even accepted it or not.   That price was so great that it caused Him “to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit”. (D&C 19:18)   His love for me was so great that He willingly took my name personally through the sacred temple of Gethsemane.   I imagine Him gently washing my wounds and drying my tears.   Personally.   And carefully.   Because my ‘worth’ to Him, is a very ‘Personal’ thing.

My punch bowl sits in an honoured place now.   In my kitchen.   Behind a glass door, where I see it often.   And it speaks to me.   Of mistaken identity.   Of inherent value.   Of Divine Nature.   Of the sacred worth of souls. . . . .
I imagine myself – a Blue Indiana Carnival Glass punch bowl set.   Sadly, one of my cups is broken, and my ladle is long since disappeared. . . .

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

Patience, Peace of Mind and Living Within Your Means

When we discovered we were expecting our fifth child we knew it was time to start looking for a bigger home.  For some reason we thought we might find one simply because we were looking.  Silly us.

Ours was a humble house, and that suited us fine.  There was nothing spectacular about us anyway.  But it was small, and we were very nearly big.
Its yard was pretty average for size, but we had made it into our own little garden of Eden.  We made every inch count – both in the house and in the yard.  A grassy area for the kids to play and a picnic table. A swing set for the littles.  A trampoline we delivered flyers for two years to buy.  A vegetable garden bordered by raspberries.  A sizable strawberry patch. High bush cranberries, rhubarb, apple trees, a shady area with a hammock.  And of course, my herb garden.  And flowers.  How can I live without flowers?
Dan had built me a greenhouse.  Which I loved.  Many happy hours were spent in it. … But again, our house was small. …  In the warm months we spent a lot of time in the yard so it wasn’t as noticeable.  But you probably know in Edmonton, there are plenty of non-warm months.  

Before our last was born we anxiously looked for a bigger home.   We thought we found one.   Even made an offer.   It didn’t work out.   Over the next few years, from time to time we picked up the torch again and seriously looked, even made a couple of half hearted offers. Nothing ever worked out and it was just as well.   I thought “it would have to be absolutely everything we want and need to justify leaving”.   Even though our house was tiny, every corner had been made usable.   Sometimes I would stand in the backyard and wonder “how can we ever leave this?” …. Then one day as I stood in the yard, gazing at our little corner-of-heaven-with-a-fence-around-it, a new thought entered my mind. “We made this!  It was nothing more than an empty square yard with a little lonely apple tree smack-dab in the middle of it.   ALL this we made.   We cannot take it with us, but we can do it again.  Whatever we did here we can do anywhere.”   I knew then that we had permission to go.    And I knew just as certainly, that the right opportunity would present itself.   We would simply have to watch for it.   And wait.

Soon enough, a friend phoned one day to say their neighbour was putting their house on the market the very next day.   It had a big yard.   They thought we’d be interested.   We walked over to scout it out that evening.   It was only a few blocks away.   Nice.   The kids wouldn’t have to change schools.   In a crescent.   Nice.   The house was bigger than ours.  Hard to say how much, but enough.   We walked down the alley and peeked in the fence.  Rough back yard.   With a dead car parked in it.   But big.  With good DNA.   It smiled at us.   It wanted us.   It needed us.   And we listened.   We went home and phoned another friend.   A real estate agent.   We told him “a house is going on the market tomorrow.   We want it.”   By 10:00 the next night we owned it.   Two months later we moved in.  Our fifth child (that baby), had just turned nine!

Sometimes we need to be patient.   When we feel gratitude for our blessings, when we can “name them one by one” as the song goes, when we can be truly happy in our circumstances such as they are, when we beautify our own little corner of the world to the best of our ability, and when we can do all that continuing to live within our means, then really — nothing else matters does it?   But when the right opportunity presents itself and calls you by name, you know it is time to act.   Time to take the steps necessary to make a change.   That doesn’t make it easy.   It only makes it feel right.   And then the rest?   Well, you simply make it work.
~ ~ ~

Admittedly, it took a long time before our new home earned the title ‘home’ in our hearts.  Homes are made of memories and memories take a while to collect.   The house we raised our five children in for twelve years was only 960 square feet.   Small by any standards.   But love thrives in small houses as well as it does in bigger ones.   In the end, it was a good move.   Best one we could have ever made I believe.   We kept all our old friends.   The kids all stayed in the same school.   While we left some fabulous neighbours, we found new ones.

It took us a few years of experimenting before we figured out what we wanted to do with our yards front and back.   Heck, it took two years just to get rid of the thistle in the lawn so that we could walk barefoot on it.   We followed a pattern that we had established many years before, when we bought our first home (a fixer upper).   That pattern?   To complete two major household projects a year: one inside and one outside.   As we could afford them.   The inside one is generally tackled somewhere between October and April.   The outside one is taken care of in the warmer months.   Some projects are big, like removing walls and laying hardwood flooring, redoing the kitchen or putting in a bathroom.   Some projects are smaller like replacing a single window or painting a room.   All must be affordable.   And by that, I mean something we don’t have to borrow money for.   The final determining factor on ‘what’ and ‘when’ is whether we can pay for it right now.

We live by the adage that debt should be avoided like we would avoid the plague.   Buying a house requires long term debt of course, but we had learned through hard experience that just because one qualifies for a loan with relative ease, shouldn’t be the excuse we use to live beyond our means.   What is “our means”?   It is what we can afford to pay for, while still paying an honest tithing, and putting aside a little extra for rainy days.   Our debt philosophy is very straight forward and simple, but one that we live strictly by – “if we can’t afford to pay for it now, we cannot afford it.

Experience has taught us that although ‘Saving up’ and ‘paying off’, may eventually arrive at the same end, they take entirely different  routes to get there.   Saving up – means YOU are in control.   You are the master.   Paying off – gives you the illusion of being in control, but until the debt is cleared, you are never the master.    You are always the servant, because interest never sleeps.   It doesn’t go on vacation, it doesn’t get sick and take a day off, and it has no compassion.   It does what it was created to do – add upon itself.   That is the one thing you can count on.   At the risk of sounding naively simplistic – it is really a matter of learning to manage your money, before your money (or lack of it) manages you.   Without a plan, one too often finds that purchases have nothing to do with whether one can afford them, but are justified because one feels entitled to them, or at the very least, one deserves them.   Those reasons may feel good at the time, but they create a situation of dependence, not independence.   Self sufficiency can never be obtained as long as serious debt hangs over a household.

Living within our means, implies that we don’t buy what we cannot afford.   “One step at a time – slow and steady wins the race – by small and simple things great things come to pass” – and all other such pieces of wisdom of the ages cannot be wrong.   

Part of the Homesteading lifestyle is living within your means and never putting oneself into unnecessary debt.   Strict adherence to this principle teaches patience and many other skills, but its greatest benefit is the blessing of peace of mind.  And there is no price tag on peace of mind.  

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the principles discussed here.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

Hello world! my very first contribution in for-real blog form …

Homesteading in the City

Many years ago, in my early married years, a man I greatly respected gave the following counsel:
“We encourage you to grow all the food that you feasibly can on your own property. Berry bushes, grapevines, fruit trees—plant them if your climate is right for their growth. Grow vegetables and eat them from your own yard. Even those residing in apartments or condominiums can generally grow a little food in pots and planters. Study the best methods of providing your own foods. Make your garden as neat and attractive as well as productive.  If there are children in your home, involve them in the process with assigned responsibilities.”

His name was Spencer W. Kimball, and he was the President of the church I belong to.  Latter-day Saints regarded him as a prophet, and I loved him as one. I took his counsel to heart.  At the time, we lived in a two bedroom apartment in Edmonton, Alberta Canada.  I noted that he mentioned “those residing in apartments“, so I knew my living situation did not exempt me from his instructions.

My husband and I set about to figure out a way to comply.  We were young.  I was only 18 years old.  He was 22.  We planted a small garden in a space provided by my parents in law in their acreage vegetable garden.  We travelled out weekly to take care of it.  We were terrible farmers, and my father in law had to bite his tongue many times to keep from dashing our spirit.  My mother in law praised our efforts and was very encouraging.  When I look back on it now I roll my eyes at how young and naïve and – lets be honest here – ‘stupid’ we were.  My husband built me a window box that we hung from our kitchen window.  I had visions of Snow White watering her blooms from the window. Lets just say it didn’t exactly work that way, …. and that’s all I have to say about that for now.

Over the years, I continued to be motivated by this same talk (given in April 1976) by President Kimball.  Our ultimate goal was eternal happiness of course, but one still has to navigate this mortal life, and there are ways to do it better.  “Recognizing that the family is the basic unit of both the Church and society generally,” he said “we call upon Latter-day Saints everywhere to strengthen and beautify the home with renewed effort in these specific areas: food production, preservation, storage; the production and storage of nonfood items; fix up and cleanup of homes and surroundings.”  The die was cast so-to-speak.  We made the decision to follow these and other tenets spoken of by him, and they became life shaping for us. “Children should learn to work.” he said.  “Develop your skills in your home preservation and storage.” he said.  “…. acquire and maintain a year’s supply of the basic commodities” he said.  “Wherever possible, produce your nonfood necessities of life.  Improve your skills ....” he said.  “Keep in good repair and beautify your homes, your yards, farms, and businesses.  Repair the fences. Clean up and paint where needed.  Keep your lawns and your gardens well-groomed.  Whatever your circumstance, let your premises reflect orderliness, beauty, and happiness.” he said.  “Plan well and carry out your plan in an orderly and systematic manner.” he said.  “Avoid debt.” he said.  I took it all very personally, and took the stance that he was speaking directly to me.

We knew our lives would be blessed by living these principles of self reliance and we endeavoured to do our best to align ourselves with them as much as we had the ability to do so.  We felt an attraction to rural life and hoped one day to live in the country, but circumstances pointed us in another direction and the closest we got to it was our first home in the small town of Calmar, Alberta. It was an old home.  Very old.  Which made it affordable.  Many good and growing memories were made in that old house.   I read an article in Harrowsmith Magazine (my connection to a world I wanted to be part of) one day that helped me be patient with our dream of one day owning a small farmstead. Without being able to quote the article or tell you much else about it, the author asserted that one could live homesteading life no matter what their present circumstances were. I was empowered. And I determined to do so.

I had always felt a closeness to my pioneer roots, and I endeavoured not only to be grateful for their sacrifice and hard work and efforts,

but to do many of the same things they had done well.  We planted a garden as President Kimball instructed.  Every year.  No matter where we lived.  When in Calmar we bought our fresh milk and eggs from the farm.  We made our own yogurt, cottage cheese, ice cream and butter.  We bought our honey from the local beekeeper.  We bought our wheat from a local farmer and ground our own flour.  I made our bread.  I learned how to make soap, and made our own.  Not everyone in our circle of friends and family saw things the way we did.  I admit we raised plenty of eyebrows and even our own grandmothers shook their heads.  They had no desire to do things the way they used to do them, and couldn’t see why anyone else would. lol

Those days seem so long ago now.  We’ve learned so much and have come so far.  Many things have changed.  We raised five kids.  Bought a business that I managed for over twenty years.  Moved a few times, owned a few houses. Experienced our share of heartache and joy.  Served the Lord in assorted different callings, and our fellow man whenever we could.  Did our best to keep the spirit in our home.  Tried to be good neighbours and friends.  And yet through it all, some things have not changed.  Those basic, foundational tenets we adhered ourselves to all those many years ago.

We never did get too far out of Edmonton. In fact we live here now, and I expect at this point we’re here to stay.  We live in a modest home with a little-larger-than-average yard.  This is our 8th residence and 3rd owned home.  In every place we’re tried to live by the principles of self reliance using whatever advantage we could uncover in our situation.  This is the home that offers us the most advantage.  Ironic that all the kids are gone now.  But that’s okay. They still come home and we’re still all learning right?

I’d like to share our Homesteading-in-the-city journey with you. Some of it through recollection and some of it through our daily life.  Few of us will ever “homestead” in the way our great grandparents did.  And you know what? I’m okay with that.  Theirs’ was a hard life.  Full of uncertainty and fear of drought and hail.  I am grateful to not have the same worries.  No, in my lifetime I would say that “Homesteading” is a lifestyle choice of self sufficiency as near as one is capable of achieving.  It is “characterized by food production, home preservation and household independence”. The word conjures up images of Little-House-on-the-Prairie, but actually homesteads come in all shapes and sizes, rural and yes, even urban if needed.  Whatever our situation, our little lot can become our own little Garden of Eden, tended and nurtured.  The yield can be tremendous, not the least of which may be good, wholesome, organic food.  In our little homestead we gain awareness and connection, and independence, and feelings of self sufficiency and more independence, and peace.  And inter-dependence – which is not the ugly step-sister of independence. But that’s another subject for another day. 

As in pioneer days it requires a fair amount of learning, but thankfully now, education can be as close as the click of a mouse. If we’re fortunate we may find others of like mind who will share their experience with us, and we can round out our education with hands on instruction and of course, personal experience.

Welcome to our home. Our kitchen. Our food storage room. Our family room. Our yard and garden. We hope through our journey together, you’ll be encouraged down your own path of self sufficiency and Homesteading – wherever you are.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle