The many colors of 2020

Many of us will remember the year 2020 not for our many blessings but for the COVID-19 pandemic caused by the severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2). It became known as COVID-19 after being identified in China in December of 2019. 

In our current political climate, specifically, the leftist push to erase centuries of the United States' history and replace it with rhetoric more favorable to their views, I wonder how long it will take for the truth about COVID-19 to be bastardized. 

The media pushes the idea that this virus is more deadly to anyone who is not Caucasian. They insist white people are somehow to blame for ALL the misfortunes of others. That may have been true in the 1400 to 1600 hundreds, but is it still true today? It fits their agenda to say so.

How will we look back and remember 2020? How will we remember 2021? COVID-19 isn't going away at the stroke of midnight on December 31, 2020. 

Here at Holly Tree Manor, we recognize how very fortunate we are to live in a very rural location. We are buffered from casual contact with others by our woods. The Liberals would probably accuse us of using our "white privilege" to stay safe. What bullshit. 

We used our "white privilege" to work hard for fifty years, pay our debts, put money aside for retirement, and pay our taxes so those less fortunate could receive tax money for food and other necessities. Ceasar taking our money to pass to the poor. Is that not a manner of tithe? 

That was our privilege, that we worked to keep our American society strong. That those our money was supposed to help squandered the opportunities provided is not our doing. 

It's not a surprise that those who cry they are still in slavery feel that way. Debt is the modern-day slavery. If you've created debt, you've put yourself there. Being debt-free is being free. The color of my skin did not teach me that. Working hard did. 

These days I peer at the world from behind a facemask. Never would I have expected to do so. To be safe in the United States, I must hide from others. This is not a future ever envisioned. 

Nor was a future where all my years of hard work has been thrown back in my face, and I have, in fact, been criticized for that hard work which gave money (opportunity) to those less fortunate. 

The year 2020 has not unfolded well. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

A fun new tool for on the Manor

The year 2020 being what it is, I've had to wait, wait, wait to receive items I've ordered. Time was, if I wanted a Stihl product, it would be on the shelf for immediate purchase. Not this year. It took four months to get this little gizmo - a Stihl GTA26. 

I think they call this thing a pruner. We call it a baby chain saw. It's lightweight and battery-powered. A very cool addition to our arsenal.  

I probably shouldn't rant about the local Stihl dealer, which is also our John Deere dealer, but I think I will. 

What a pack of misogynists! When a woman walks in the door, they all stop and glare. I'm not militant but damn. I get pissed off every time. But the spousal unit insisted we go there instead of taking a day trek to a dealership about an hour away (which would have been a pleasant afternoon drive). 

But - pandemic. COVID-19. Gotta stay close to home. 

When I told the guys at the John Deere/Stihl dealership what I wanted they said 'no problem, we'll get it ordered'. Sure they did. They ordered a big, very expensive full-sized chainsaw. Yes, I'd like to have one of those someday, but not that day. I not-so-politely told them no, and don't try to work an up-sell on me again. I want a GTA26 and if you won't get it for me, the people in W---r or F---k will. 

I've got my baby chainsaw and I like it. 

The (not-so-ladylike) Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Small process candied jalapenos

Cowboy Candy (candied jalapeno peppers)

Living in the year 2020 has meant I've needed to become determinedly focused on the items in my pantry and freezer. While I can't expand the space inside my freezer, I've been quite able to expand the space allotted to pantry items. 

We've been processing small batches of fresh produce. It's not enough to get us through to next year, but it is laying the groundwork for future seasons. Canning jars are more expensive than ever. A pressure canner now costs $100 and up, although I'm not sure I'm going that route. My great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother only ever water-bath canned and nobody died from food poisoning. If the contents of a jar looked bad, 
which it rarely did, the contents were dumped on the compost pile. And still, nobody died from the compost. 

Food canning isn't new. I confess I didn't pay enough attention to my grandmother when she was deep into the canning season. But maybe I picked up more information than I thought. The canning process isn't foreign to me. 

Here on the manor, we take the time to plan our next steps in managing our resources be it a cash outlay or spending our time. It will take time to build up a reserve of canning jars, but it will be worth it in the end. This weekend I was able to obtain a small number of jalapeno peppers which made two pints of Cowboy Candy (candied jalapenos). It may not sound like much, but it helped reacquaint me with the canning process. Planning ahead, I'll plant my own pepper patch next season and be able to make more than two pints.

While none of my foremothers probably ever touched a jalapeno (much less ate one), I like feeling a connection to something that was an important part of their summers. For my great-grandmother, canning meant having food available for a year. In her day, one didn't just zip off to the grocery store in a heated automobile in the middle of January. For my grandmother, canning preserved the bountiful harvests my grandfather provided. They made it through the Great Depression because of those harvests, and she was able to share with family and neighbors in need. In later years, she shared part of the harvest with my mother and me. 

My mother canned because she liked to have better fruit available. She was also a fan of jellies and jams and we had a lot of those on hand. In my mother's time, hopping into the car and going to town for groceries was easier than canning and preserving. Grocery shopping was her norm, and so it's been in my time up until The Year of Our Lord 2020. 

We've already started to be more aware of what is in the products we purchase to eat and taken steps to reduce food additives. This year has opened our eyes to how fragile our supply lines are. So now I make plans and take steps to preserve our life here on the manor, one jar at a time. May that life remain fruitful. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Living in the time of COVID-19

Our future?

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” ― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

The World Health Organization declared COVID-19 to be a pandemic on March 11, 2020. Maryland’s governor at the time, Larry Hogan, declared a State of Emergency in Maryland on March 5, 2020. I give Hogan his due credit for moving on this because central Maryland is home to Baltimore City and people down there do not understand the seriousness of any given crisis. I’m happy to live far, far, far away from metropolitan areas. 

As of today, we’ve been under stay-at-home and safer-at-home order for thirteen weeks. That’s a quarter of the current year for the math-challenged, ninety-one days for the quick ones. 

Governor Hogan has bowed to the pressure to “reopen” the State of Maryland. I understand. Tax revenues are down. Why? People are not working, ergo, not getting paid, ergo, no income tax is going into the state coffers. 

The mass media has all but forgotten the COVID-19 pandemic. They’ve dropped it like a hot potato in favor of promoting the United States being torn apart by riots over the death of one man being taken into police custody. One man – one cop. And for this people are burning and looting their own communities. 

I understand that death should never have happened. 
I understand the message has now been distorted by the violence. 

Should one violent act spawn a thousand? Is this what we really want to teach our children? Who do you protest for? Who owns you? 

I’m deeply saddened by what is going on in the world today and frightened. The people are being manipulated at every turn. At home on the Manor, I wonder if I’m truly safe. 

In years to come, the mass media will distort everything happening today. The violence is not necessary. People who WERE viewed as equals will NOW be seen as thugs. It’s all to perpetuate a peculiar form of victim-ism. 

We are all being controlled, and once we allow it, it will never end. 

The liberals and the socialists have won this battle, but not yet the war. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

An old fashioned spring

a late dusting of snow

In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020, we are enjoying an old-fashioned spring. February brought lots of snow flurries, March was truly windy, April was wet with gentle rains, and it looks like our last nighttime freeze may well be mid-month. The ground has been slow to warm, but the little peeper frogs are in full voice after dark. 

As a girl, I wasn't allowed to wear shorts until after the first of May. I thought it was silly but looking back I see a certain wisdom in it. While the May breeze holds hints of warming, there is still a little bite of dampness there. 

I'm not bemoaning this slow spring. Everything is happening as it should. The trees are leafing out and the maple seeds hang heavy on the branches. Bare spots in the lawn are filling in and it's time for it to receive a last over-seeding. The lilacs are blooming, such as they do, and those blooms are lasting a long time. The ajuga and wood hyacinths cover the bank in shades of pink and purple. The tulips and daffodils have bloomed, and the hostas are mid-way to their full size. 

Everywhere I look I see something that needs to be done or will need to be done in a few days. It would be daunting if I allowed it to be. Instead, I prefer to look at it as part of my stewardship of this small part of the land. 

The peonies stand tall at this moment. They're full of buds and must be tied before the blooms open and weigh down the stalks. The lilacs will need to be pruned. Every year I make a circuit around the yard and cut back maple tree limbs that hang low enough to be a nuisance while mowing. And yes, the grass needs to be mowed. If I were able to purchase mulch I'd spread it but we remain under house arrest due to COVID-19. I am truly tired of my constitutional rights being trampled upon even as I understand the need to keep myself safe. 

It's not that being home on the manor is a hardship, but so much of what needs to be accomplished requires items I don't have. Like mulch. If this old-fashioned spring has taught me something, it's that my level of preparedness needs to be upped. Even life at the manor isn't immune to the actions of outsiders. I just need to out-think them. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Strange days indeed

I'm not sure where to begin. Perhaps with a question: How do you know you have enough to survive?

As I write this, we are on a sort of house arrest due to the COVID-19 virus outbreak. The government has "asked" us to self-quarantine except for emergencies. 

What constitutes an emergency? 

People have gone mad. The shelves in grocery stores are bare. Toilet paper, of all things, is being hoarded. Bottled hand sanitizer cannot be found. Most groceries now have programs where you can order online and pick up your order. As of last night, if I order today I can pick up in two weeks. 

I'm concerned about having to walk the aisles in the grocery store, especially if I can't purchase the items on my list. 

Will I have enough water in the cistern to get by? 

Will I have enough money to get by? 

Watching the homesteaders on YouTube is not just for entertainment any longer. It's become more of a how-to for our modern times. 

These are strange days and I wonder who I will be if I live through them. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor