Sunday, July 28, 2013

Great Expectations

America.  The very sound of that name made men weak in the knees.  Dreams of a future, a hope, a chance to be a freeman rather than a subject, caused fathers to lead their families into the great unknown, at tremendous risk to meager fortunes and even life itself.  These families toiled under the harshest conditions imaginable for years on end, with nothing but great expectations to keep them going.  You see, in America, anything was possible.  If a man was diligent, honest, hardworking and faithful, he could obtain a better life, if not for himself, for his posterity.  America was the land of realized dreams and endless possibilities.  America was the land of the free and the home of the brave.

For generations, our great country provided sanctuary to men and women from every nation on earth.  Men and women dreaming of a better life - those willing to pay for the price of their dream by the sweat of their brow.  The price was high, but the dividend unmatched.  America was a builder of men.

As our country became established, toil and hardship gave way to ease and comfort.  Our people, once hallmarked by their tenacity, by their ability to thrive in the midst of the most adverse conditions, became entitled and lazy.  They wanted all of the benefits of being freemen with none of the responsibility.

They couldn't have it both ways.  Little by little, our people began to look to the government to shoulder the responsibility for their happiness and success rather than being responsible for themselves.  They wanted to pretend to be freemen, but only when being a freeman was easy.  When it became difficult or uncomfortable, they expected, no, they demanded, that their master to come to their rescue.  The master was only too willing.

Like humoring small children, the master allowed the people to believe they were still free. But little by little, freedom by freedom, they were closing the net .  They have now effectively convinced the people that they are not fit to care for themselves, make their own decisions or manage their own estates.  In fact, any "freemen" that truly attempt to live as a sovereign is quickly reminded they are but mere subjects.  Our great expectations have come to ruin.

People, we choose.  We choose how to live.  We choose to live as hopeless paupers or as free men.  The path of the free man is wrought with peril and hardship.  It is the road less traveled.  But this road allows your soul to soar, it gives you hope.  It makes you responsible for yourself and your future rather than waiting for crumbs from a cruel master.

You can't have it both ways.  You can't live as free men and still expect the government to pull your fat out of the fire.  Choose.  Live.  Be free.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Calling all Patriots


Just a last-minute reminder that the N.W. Patriot and Self-Reliance Rally is being held today, tomorrow and Sunday at Farragut State Park in Athol, Idaho.  Sir Knight and I will be there tomorrow, along with Maid Elizabeth, Master Hand Grenade and Miss Serenity.  Sir Knight, Maid Elizabeth and I will be conducting classes/talks throughout the day as well as minding our booth.

I was hoping against hope to have copies of "The Prepared Family Cookbook" available for sale, but alas, I do not.  I DO, however, have a couple of proofs for everyone to peruse while they are there!  The books are complete (we've just resubmitted the final book) and we will be gearing up for a "Book Bomb" day on August 25th.  If any of you are interested in reviewing the book for its upcoming debut (with a written online review) please shoot me an email and let me know.

Well, I'm off to finish getting everything loaded for the rally - see you there!

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

A Gift Fit For.....Me!


Another year has come and gone and my birthday is quickly approaching.  About a month ago, my folks asked me what I wanted for my birthday.  They were expecting a list of little things that would delight me - things that I would never buy for myself.  My quick reply (I had been thinking about this for some time) caught them off-guard and had them cracking up - I wanted an outhouse.

My dad chuckled, asked if I wanted it to look like the one I had grown up with (that still stands guard at my parent's house) and if I wanted any odd "Enola-like" modifications.  I said that one like theirs would be perfect, although I didn't need for it to be a "two-holer",  and if he could come up with a way to add a urinal, that would be delightful.

Over the next few weeks, mom would ask me a cryptic question from time-to-time, leading me to believe that there was an outhouse in my very near future.  I was thrilled!  Finally, last week, mom and dad called and informed me that they would be bringing a "surprise" soon and I needed to have a hole dug that was deep and slightly smaller than four feet by four feet wide.

Oh, the excitement!  A friend came over over with his tractor and augured a number of holes close together and then drug the auger through them to break up the dirt.  After the tractor had done its work, Sir Knight and Master Calvin went to work with their shovels and post-hole diggers.  Soon, a hole fit for an outhouse began to take shape.

Master Calvin excavating the hole

Man-in-Training at work!
Yesterday, my parents, pulling a trailer, made their way up our driveway.  The smiling faces of my mom and dad, and our eldest son, Master Hand Grenade (who has been living at my folks while working for a local contractor), shone through the windows, waving and they pulled up to the front door.  On the trailer was a rustic, beautiful, outhouse, wrapped in bright yellow "Police Line - Do Not Cross" tape.

Within 15 minutes, that outhouse had been unloaded (with the help of a friend on his tractor equipped with forks) and slid into position over the awaiting hole.  Success!  For the first time since I was a child, I had my very own outhouse!

The outhouse was beautiful - but what made it even more special, was the fact that it had been built by my father and my son, working side by side.  They had used boards that had been pulled off our original homestead barn (the one I used to hate cleaning when I was a kid) that was well over 150 years old.  Having that outhouse is like having a little piece of "home" in my own backyard.

My lovely outhouse!

The silver dome hides the toilet paper
and yes, those are magazines in the
box on the wall!
After hugging and hugging and hugging Master Hand Grenade (he has been gone since the middle of May), I headed "out back" to get a good look at the masterpiece my parents had brought.  What can I say?  It is perfect.  My dad explained how he had pieced the building together, making the most of his old lumber.  He showed me what Master Hand Grenade had done, and told me how they had worked together, making sure the outhouse was just right.  He showed me the urinals he had installed - a little one (for Master Calvin) that he had fashioned out of an antique diary funnel that mom had found at an antique store and another one on the other side for the grown-up men.  He showed me that he had built it on skids so that we could easily move it when the time came for a new hole and that he had installed eye-bolts on the side so that we could tie the outhouse down if need be.

I am delighted!

A wee-little urinal (with tubing leading into the hole)

And a urinal for the big guys

Built-in shelves for this and that

Built on pressure-treated skids!
Why an outhouse, you ask?  It just makes sense.  If there comes a time when fuel is too expensive to afford or just plain unavailable, we will want to use our generator sparingly - only for absolute necessities.  Our lighting (and other electrical usage) will be supplied by our solar panels, we'll turn our refrigerator off.  We'll heat our water with wood and cook our food on the wood cookstove.  The only thing we will use our precious fuel supplies for will be pumping water - and I don't mean pumping water to flush down the toilet.  We will use water for drinking, for animals, for cleaning and for gardening - but not for flushing!

Next on my list of things to do?  A root cellar!  And then a barn and fencing and an ice house and ........

Thursday, July 18, 2013

N.W. Patriots and Self Reliance Rally

Calling all Patriots!  Mark your calendars.  Sir Knight and I will be there and would love to talk to you all.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Resistance is Futile


Or so they would have you believe.  It seems as though every time the public tries to resist any governmental intrusion into their lives, they are squeezed even harder.  Little by little, encroachment by encroachment, they are conditioning us not to resist.  They are programming us to associate resistance with terrorism, and conviction with bigotry.  They are implementing a new social and political order by stripping America of its rugged individuality and replacing it with an assimilated collective.

And they have convinced us that resistance if futile.  But it is not.  In fact, resistance is our duty.  In the Old Testament, the entire nation of Israel suffered when no one resisted the godless corruption of their leaders.  In Sodom and Gomorrah, God would have spared both cities for the sake of 10 good men - men who resisted the corruption - but 10 good men, He could not find.

Our government has put itself in the position of legislating corruption and calling it good.    They defame and vilify good men and place evil men in positions of power.  They sacrifice our children on an alter of blood and promote warlords to occupy our high places.  And, they silence those who resist.

People, we must not be silenced.  We must resist.  We must be those 10 good men in a nation of evildoers.  Resisting corruption is never futile.  Its value is eternal.

"And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell."
Matthew 10:28 

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Protect or Prepare


Raising children in this modern age of impending but inevitable disaster is a monumental task.  Do we protect them from the horrors of the world, or do we prepare them to deal with the realities of their future?

Sir Knight and I have wrestled with these questions for years.  Do we try to ensure a carefree, naive childhood for our children and then turn them out, unequipped, into a broken world, or do we prepare them, train them, and give them the skills they will need to survive?

As parents, it is our duty to raise our children to become productive members of society. We must equip them to function in whatever world they have inherited.  Childhood, contrary to popular belief, is the training ground for adulthood.  It is a time of intense learning. A time of forming the character that will define a person throughout their entire lifetime.  Childhood is the moment in time the character of our nation is formed, either good or bad.  If we fail to mold these children, our future will be lost.

As parents, our first inclination is to protect our children at all costs.  We want to shield them from a corrupt world.  And of course, when they are little, the broken world is our burden to bear, not theirs.  But as they grow in stature and knowledge, our world becomes their world.  It is our job to prepare them to meet it head-on.

We walk with our feet in two worlds.  In one world, we are preparing our children to succeed in their chosen field, find a spouse, live a happy and successful life.  In the other world, we are preparing our children to fight the good fight.  To stand for what they believe in, no matter the cost.  To endure hardship, stand their ground and hold the line.  We are teaching them to see past their future into their eternity.  We are choosing to prepare them for life rather than protect them from it.

Current wisdom dictates that we protect our children from every bad thing.  We have to keep them safe at any cost.  But, if you just look, you know that the cost has been too high.  We have retarded our children's growth, frustrating them and stunting them in the process.  When my mother was a little girl, she was broiling bacon in the oven by the time she was 5 years old.  She knew how to do the dishes, make simple meals and care for her younger sister.  She was 5!  It was not uncommon during the days of the pioneers for a young girl of 11 to step into the role of the woman of the house.  She would cook, all of the meals from scratch, care for the children and keep the house up - not to mention milk the cow, care for the garden and mend all of the clothing.  None of us want that for our children, but, if TEOTWAWKI were to happen, wouldn't you want your children to know how to do all of those things so they could live?  I certainly would.

How many times do you see naughty, undisciplined children creating mayhem in some public setting?  Too many times to count, I'm afraid.  These children need to be trained, to be useful, to be helpful.  They need a job to do - and I don't mean something like wiping the table, I mean a real job.  They need to be learning to broil bacon (I don't care if they are 5, they are more capable than you give them credit for), peel the potatoes and pull the weeds.  They need to have responsibility.  They need to be useful.

As a mother, I take every precaution to protect my children from unnecessary danger.  When my 5 year old is broiling the bacon, I make sure I am close by, watching his steps.  When my 8 year old traipses off through the woods, I make sure she takes a radio and her emergency whistle. When my 14 year old goes hunting, I make sure I know what roads she is taking.  I make sure that she knows how to shoot well and that she knows how to properly gut her kill.  When my 17 year old uses the chain saw, I make sure that he wears his Kevlar saw chaps and eye protection.  When my 24 year old heads off to a foreign country, I make sure that she maps a route home, always has a method of communication and, most importantly, has her faith and trust firmly planted in God alone.

Sir Knight and I can't shield our children from the world, but we can equip them to live in it.  We have chosen to protect our children by preparing them.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Survivalblog in Survival Mode

Many of you may have noticed that Survivalblog has been down for the past few days.  Once again, their main server has been attacked.  Not to worry, you can get to their site via an alternative server at  http://64.92.111.122/.  They are working fast and furious to get their main server back up and running.  Because they have having to make do with less bandwidth while using their alternate server, they have temporarily omitted their graphics.

Survivalblog will be back up and running soon - stay tuned.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Homemade Sandwich Rolls


Have you ever bought those square Italian sandwich rolls at Costco or other grocery stores?  Generally, when I make Panini sandwiches, I pick up a couple of packages of rolls, slice them and whip up an almost instant summer dinner.  Not this time.  I haven't been to town in ages, didn't have the money to spend on bread and figured if Walmart could make sandwich rolls, so could I.

Beginning with French bread dough, I divided the dough into three pieces, forming French loaves out of two of the pieces and rolling the third piece into a rectangle about 1/2" thick.  Next, I cut the rolled-out dough into 6 large squares (or some semblance of a square) and formed the little bit of leftover dough into yet another small loaf.  Transferring the squares onto a baking sheet, I brushed a bit of olive oil onto each roll, followed by a smidgen of mozzarella cheese, a pinch of Italian seasoning, a bit of garlic powder, a grating of Parmesan cheese and a shake of salt and pepper.

Rolling the dough to 1/2"

Forming French loaves with the other 2 pieces of dough

Brushed with olive oil

Topped with mozzarella, Parmesan and spices
I allowed the bread and the rolls to rise one last time, popped them into the oven and enjoyed the heavenly smell as it enveloped the "shouse".  Wow!  I was so pleased when I pulled the baking sheet out of the oven.  The sandwich rolls where perfect!  They were just the right size for sandwiches, seasoned to perfection, with a chewy crust and soft center.  I'm pretty sure these will become a staple at our house, topped with any number of spices, depending on what I am using them for.


These rolls were wonderful for Panini, but also fit the bill for plain old cold-cut sandwiches.  To try next....whole grain sandwich rolls!

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Servants Have Ruled Over Us


We speak in hushed, quiet tones, hypersensitive of our surroundings - cautious of being overheard.  We save any "real" conversations for personal, face-to-face interactions, not wanting our thoughts and plans to be misinterpreted by faceless servants as they sift through intercepted internet and phone communications.   We carefully hide our real opinions and convictions, not wanting to draw the attention of the thought police.

Our government has effectively legislated the demise of the 1st Amendment.  All three branches of our government have betrayed the people.  The legislative branch has passed laws limiting our freedom of speech, the executive branch has signed these unending breeches of our rights into law and the judicial branch has repeatedly upheld laws designed to strip us of our rights.  And we have allowed it.  We have drunk the Kool-Aid, the Utopian ideal of strengthening the rights of the masses at the cost of the individual.  The problem is that without the rights of every single, individual person, there are no rights at all.

We live in a time that I never thought I would witness.  A time when speaking out of the conviction of your heart can be punishable by law.  A time when believing in and upholding the foundations of our social fabric is considered bigoted and hate-filled.  A time calling a sin a sin can get you stoned in the city gates.  A time when expressing distrust or dissatisfaction with governmental entities can get you audited, jailed or worse.

But there's more.  We now judge people by what they think, not what they do.  Once upon a time, our citizens were presumed innocent until proven guilty.  Not anymore.  Now, our government is listening to our conversations, reading our mail and taking it upon themselves to determine if our thinking is dangerous - seditious.  We are encouraged to tattle on our neighbors and monitor our friends.  We are told that if "we see something" we need to "say something" - "they" will know how to interpret the facts, they just need us to be their eyes and ears.

And now we cower.  Our servants have become our masters.  Our thoughts are not our own.

I would love to be able to blame the corrupt state of our nation on our leaders, but I cannot.  It is us.  We have chosen not to think, not to believe that our sins would catch up to us.  We have chosen safety over freedom and our rights over the rights of others.  We have asked for our government to make life "fair", to subdue the playground bullies and to take care of our needs.  They have complied.

And now they have us where they want us.  Dependent.  Compliant.  Subservient.  

Wake from your slumber, O people.  Throw off the shackles of tyranny.  Speak what you believe.  Stand firm.  Shout from the roof-tops.  Never, never be ashamed of speaking God's truth.  Our nation depends upon it.

"Servants have ruled over us: there is none that doth deliver us out of their hand."
Lamentations 5:8