The Old Spring

I grew up in my maternal grandparent's house. My parents lived with them until I was eight, and then they bought their own house about a mile away. I don't know why because I swear all we did was sleep there. Weekends were spent at the grandparent's place. After school, I rode my bike to my grandparent's house. When we cousins wanted to "camp out," it was in our grandparent's meadow. That's where the action was. 

Growing up, I didn't think it was odd that my grandparent's water came from a spring. I just know that a lot of family members would bring a jug and take some spring water home with them to make iced tea, my mother included. These days, heaven only knows what has leached into the water, and we don't drink it. There are houses above it now. Back then, there was only forest. 

The picture is the inside of the spring. My grandfather walled it up, dug out the bottom for a reservoir, and eventually installed a reinforced concrete roof. This is how the spring looks today. 

I'm very glad that the cousin who got the homeplace didn't fill in the spring. Pop's roof is still intact and the water still flows into the spring branch and down to the creek. We don't use it any longer, but it's there if my cousin wants to water his grass. 

I suppose it's rather unremarkable, but it's a memory from my youth. I thought I'd share.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, rural living, country lifestyle, KC Kendricks, grandparents, old ways, spring water, changing times, safe drinking water

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