How we avoid tick bites

Tick season has started, and we have adopted several preventive measures so that we can enjoy our yard and garden without worrying about Lyme disease.

The standard advice about ticks is to avoid high grass and leaf litter, wear light-colored clothes with sleeves, and to check skin regularly for these pests – to do “tick checks.” On one such check recently, Betsy found a poppy seed-size tick on her chest and removed it. My sister has had Lyme disease multiple times, and a friend contracted a nasty disease called Babesiosis (which has nothing to do with babes) from a tick, so we wanted to go further.

The first thing we did was to designate certain clothes, including shoes, as tick-deterrent clothing. We chose a calm morning and hung up these clothes on a line. We put on gloves and protected our eyes, nose and mouth and sprayed the clothes with Permethrin, which we bought at Eastern Mountain Sports in Hadley.

Permethrin is a powerful chemical that you don’t want on your skin or in your lungs, as it is toxic and an endocrine disrupter. But it’s effective. A 2020 study of outdoor workers in Massachusetts and Rhode Island found that those with Permethrin-saturated clothes got only a third of the tick bites (over two years) as those wearing typical clothes. It also keeps mosquitoes away.

Permethrin remains effective even after you wash your clothes. We’ll probably do another spraying in the fall. You can buy clothing that’s pretreated with Permethrin if you don’t want to spray it yourself. You still need to use an insect repellent on any exposed skin.

If you don’t want ticks in your yard to begin with, another good use of Permethrin involves the use of spent cylindrical toilet paper rolls, something most people can easily accumulate. We chose another calm morning and created eight tick tubes.

We spread out some newspapers and sprayed about 40 cotton balls with Permethrin. We let them dry for a day, then put four or five of the balls into each toilet paper tube. We then put the tick tubes around the yard.

We get some help from mice, and maybe from chipmunks, who share our yard with us. They go into the tubes and take out the cotton balls, bringing them back to their nests for bedding. The Permethrin gets into the mice’s fur, and when ticks bite them, they die. Some claim that this technique reduces the tick population by 90 percent.

Lyme disease is notoriously difficult for doctors to diagnose, and unlike mosquito bites, you can’t feel it when a tick latches on to you. So prevention is the best strategy.

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

‘Within us and between us is everything we need’: Why I find Carrie Newcomer so moving

When I listen to a Carrie Newcomer song, I often sense a shiver in my spine and sometimes feel tears coming to my eyes. And I’ve learned that when that happens, it’s important to pay attention.

Newcomer somehow expresses just what I’m thinking and feeling, and I haven’t felt this way about a singer/songwriter since the Beatles and Joni Mitchell. She encourages us to look deeper, to see beauty and mystery in nature and in ordinary people. Her emotional openness and vulnerability are deeply affecting.

Here’s a video of her singing “Bare to the Bone” on Krista Tippett’s show “On Being,” with a refrain of “What we do in love and kindness is all we’ll ever leave behind.” Tippett says that Newcomer’s songs confront “the raw and redemptive edges of human reality.”

Barbara Kingsolver calls Carrie Newcomer “a minister of a wide-eyed gospel of hope and grace.” Her songs are “attuned to the still, small voice of the soul that’s so often muffled by the noise of the world,” says spirituality writer Parker Palmer. The Boston Globe calls her a “prairie mystic.”

Newcomer is 64 and lives in her native Indiana. She’s a Quaker and many of her songs deal with spiritual topics, but in a musical style that’s familiar to many of us. There’s a little rock, a touch of jazz, some country and occasional gospel.

Newcomer has said that most Christian contemporary music gives you just eight crayons to paint with. “I’m more of a 48-crayon gal, theologically,” she said. One of her songs was part of every Lenten service this year at First Congregational Church in Amherst, and I gave a talk on her music at a Leverett church in January.

Here’s a video of Newcomer singing about her many-crayoned faith in “I Believe.” One of the things she believes is that “when I close my eyes to sleep at night, it’s good to say ‘Amen.’”

“She can make you dance one moment, laugh the next, and then take you to a deeply moving, even prayerful place, as she touches on regret, loss or grief and the wonder of being alive,” says Palmer, a frequent collaborator on her lyrics and a podcast called “The Growing Edge.”

Especially relevant to my search for peace and serenity is Newcomer’s insistence that we already have all the resources that we need for dealing with adversity. “Within us and between us is everything we need,” she sings. In “Three Feet or So,” she sings, “I can’t change the whole world, but I can change the world I know, what’s within three feet or so.” In “I Believe,” she sings, “I know that I get scared sometimes, but all I need is here.”

Many of Newcomer’s songs express deep truths in just a few words: “If I start by being kind, love usually follows right behind”; “I am everything I’ve found and I am everything I’ve lost; I am all that I’ve been given and I’m everything it cost”; and “This forest has a different sense of time than yours or mine.” I’m particularly fond of this one: “I’m not lost, I’m only wandering; I’m not adrift, I’m just at sea; I’m not sure, I’m only guessing.”

“We have enormous power to create positive change in the world in how we choose to live our daily lives,” she has written.

Many songs convey a sense of wonder in everyday experiences, as she finds holiness everywhere. Here’s a video of her singing “Geodes,” the first song of hers that got my attention. When I heard the line, “All these things that we call familiar are just miracles clothed in the commonplace,” I knew I had discovered someone who spoke to me.

Did I mention that Newcomer can be funny as well as deep? Here’s a video of her singing “Don’t Push Send,” which is “a very sad tale of intrigue, romance and electronic mail.” Or playful? Check out “My Dog,” and the line “I’m trying to be the person that my dog thinks I am.”

Carrie Newcomer’s songs frequently use original, imperfect rhymes (such as “Today is now, tomorrow beckons; keep practicing resurrection”). Many have curiosity-provoking titles, such as “Learning to Sit Without Knowing,” “Throwing Rocks at the Moon,” and “Impossible – Until It’s Not.”

Her songs “Room at the Table” and “If Not Now” have social justice resonances. “You Can Do This Hard Thing” was inspired by Kingsolver, a friend who wrote the liner notes to one of her albums. “A Gathering of Spirits” can be heard at pub sings.

Newcomer is not shy about admitting, even befriending, the mistakes she has made. She believes that mistakes are inevitable when we live straight from the heart, but also that there can be healing in relationships, in compassion, and in community.

“I have spent a lifetime trying to describe in language those things we experience that have no words,” she’s written. A good example of this quest is “I Do Not Know Its Name,” It’s a song about the ineffable and it gives me a tingle every time I hear it.

With her 2019 album “The Point of Arrival,” I see Carrie Newcomer coming to a place of peace and centeredness. In “Writing a Better Story,” she sings, “I’m ending where another story starts, at the edges I can grow, even when they’re razor-sharp.” The title cut concludes with this: “Looking down at my hands, finally I understand. The empty space has changed somehow. And it’s filled with Hallelujah now.”

Some of the songs on her latest album, “Until Now,” address the Covid pandemic. It opens with, “Here in the great unraveling, so much of this is baffling, when breathing feels like gambling.”

But she also sees the potential for redemption in scary times, singing, “We can’t just be healed; we must be transformed when the sky goes dark and the wolf is at the door.” And this: “When the old world ends, a new world starts. What finally comes together first had to fall apart.” Her penchant for optimism is heard in “I Will Sing a New Song.”

“Like Molly Brown” honors female heroes, not just the survivor of the Titanic but also Rosa Parks, Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Lucretia Mott.

Since the Beatles and Joni Mitchell, I’ve been influenced by the songs of Gordon Lightfoot, Elvis Costello, Phil Ochs, Fred Small, Leonard Cohen, Enya and Gregory Norbet. But none of them have touched me in the way that Carrie Newcomer has.

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

Lightening up by giving away

Sue from Pelham came early to our Homestead Give-away on Saturday, so she got the drip irrigation hoses. She also took some jars for her medicinals, and told us how she makes kiwi ginger jam and papaw butter.

Joshua poked around for over an hour and went home to Orange with equipment he hopes to turn into a system for moving graywater from his sink to his garden. His partner Lily gave us an enormous egg laid by one of their geese.

Maya just bought an old farmhouse in Deerfield and plans to create a vegetable and herb garden there to go with the existing fruit trees. She took lots of our old gardening books and permaculture magazines.

I decided that I had accumulated more stuff than I could use on our small urban homestead. So I gathered up a lot of excess stuff from the basement, the attic and the sheds and put it all out in our driveway. I wrote a blog post about the event, contacted some organizations focused on homesteading, and sat back and waited for takers.

I accepted that I was just not going to get around to many of the projects I envisioned, and needed to free up space in my head for the things that give meaning to my life at this point. Things like spending time with family and friends, church activities, and making music. Saying no to some things enables me to say yes to others.

Jackie from Hampshire College took some canning jars for her mother and some permaculture magazines to hand out at an organizing fair at Food Forest Farm in Northampton.

Michelle from Boxboro had come not for our event but to pick up items she’d acquired in an auction from a vacated house across the street. She took six double-pane windows she is hoping to use to build a greenhouse, and some old beadboard for wainscotting.

Theresa and Laura moved to their Pelham homestead two years ago. They took a crate of old wine bottles and jugs and told us about how they are making dandelion wine, and hope to make raspberry, strawberry and blackberry wine.

Someone compared our Homestead Giveaway to Swedish Death Cleaning. Well, I’m 71 and not planning to die anytime soon. But you never know, and I don’t want my son to have to deal with all this accumulation after I’m gone. So I’m doing it now, while I can.

Besides, this was fun. It was like a tag sale, except that everything was free and it was centered on homesteading. It was a celebration of repurposing materials so they don’t wind up in landfills, and also it promoted community by sharing our possessions and passions.

Carina is working on a homestead in Hatfield, and is hoping to get started on one of her own. She took home “The Encyclopedia of Country Living” and a book on voluntary simplicity.

Thomas from Hadley took an old grindstone that belonged to my parents and grandfather. He’s hoping to refurbish it and use it to sharpen his scythe.

Sherri from Petersham took seed-starting planters. She grows green beans, lettuce and cucumbers, and told me about learning food preservation from her mom. Her “gearhead” husband Bob took a new hammer handle.

We gave away only a fraction of what we need to get rid of, and there’s lots more to be weeded out. So I feel inspired to do this again, perhaps next spring, maybe adding music, garden tours and plant dig-ups. After all, we still have items that no one took, such as a tall wooden ladder, cupboard doors, a rusty push lawnmower, perforated 4-inch tubing, and gutters. Let me know in a comment if you want any of this!

Pam from Hatfield, a longtime homesteader, took some pruning shears, a plant hanger and pint jars for spaghetti sauce and garlic scape pesto.

Tina from Greenfield took paint rollers she plans to use on her first house, and a gallon glass jug for making violet flower sun tea.

Phyllis from Amherst took some peat pots in which she plans to plant cantaloupe seeds, and a heavy maul because her son said the one she has is too light.

Thank you to all who came and made this such a special day!

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

Seeking serenity, avoiding politics

Our town will hold an important referendum on Tuesday. Unlike many previous political debates, I have not been involved with this one.

I will vote, of course. But there have been no opinion columns from me, and no canvassing, no meetings, no lawn signs. After many decades of immersion in local politics, I have opted out.

I still follow the issues in the newspaper, like any good citizen, and occasionally talk about them with friends. But I have felt a need to get away from the conflict that’s common in local politics and live a more peaceful life. And after over 40 years of involvement, it was past time for me to get off the stage.

Instead, I’m concentrating on my volunteer activities, getting enough sleep and exercise, spending time with friends and family, and working on our mini-homestead. With more yesterdays than tomorrows, I’m concentrating on taking care of myself.

Serving on Amherst’s Charter Commission in 2016-17 was a departure from what I was used to doing at public meetings.

I was the editor of our community’s weekly newspaper for 19 years and dealt with political issues on a daily basis. For 13 years afterwards, I wrote articles for the local papers, mostly about political issues. When I retired 10 years ago, I swore that I was done with local politics, and wanted to focus on other things.

But four years later, I joined a campaign to change our town’s form of government. At public meetings, it felt a little strange to be an elected official actively participating, rather than a reporter looking on. The campaign was successful, but the public scrutiny, the late-night meetings, and occasional vitriol took a toll on my sense of serenity.

Once again, I said I was done, but Betsy rolled her eyes. And sure enough, I created two blogs (in addition to this one) about local politics with two different partners. Now, I feel confident that this latest exit will be the last one.

I feel satisfied with my re-retirement from local politics. I’m reading more books, volunteering three times a week at the Amherst Survival Center and at a free-meal site, and going to bed at 8:30. I enjoy household chores such as cooking, dishwashing, food shopping and vacuuming. Yesterday I planted carrot seeds in our garden.

For 25 years, I have also gotten pleasure from splitting and stacking firewood and keeping our stove going for five months of the year. Now that we have solar panels on our roofs that provide us with electricity, we are planning to get a heat pump for heating and cooling. That change will probably diminish our woodstove’s role, but it will be good for my 73-year-old back.

I like to play hymns on the piano after dinner.

I’m involved with three local churches. In addition to Sunday services, I participate in a men’s group at one church and, at another, a group raising questions about traditional religious practices. I enjoy banging out hymns on our piano.

This is a time of life for delving into new areas, and reviving activities that have been neglected. For me, this includes listening to birds and trying to identify them, plus playing chess on my tablet and strumming my guitar. I was a meditator when I met Betsy 45 years ago, and I’m trying to resume this daily practice.

And I’m regularly expressing gratitude, for having Betsy in my life, for my house, my sons, my friends, my health, my privilege, my career, my retirement, my financial security. I recently sent appreciative e-mails to two people who, long ago, were influential in my newspaper career.

Beyond these activities, I’m just trying to be a better person, a better spouse, a better father, a better brother. I’m focusing on being kind to all people, forgiving myself and others for our wayward ways, and saying no to negativity.

Local politics too often includes negativity. It’s been hard for me to find the serenity I seek in simple living when contentious discussions about local politics arouse swirling emotions in me. I feel liberated – and calmer – putting all that in the past.

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

Homestead Dreams

As I prepare for the Great Homestead Giveaway May 6, I’m thinking about which homestead dreams I have achieved — and which unrealized aspirations that I need to let go.

Canning jars, back copies of Organic Gardening and permaculture magazines, books on herbs, energy efficiency and gardening, and old windows are some of the items I’ll be shedding. This will be like a free tag sale, and it will be from 9 to 4 at our house at 84 Eames Ave. in Amherst. Rain date May 13.

At our Urban Mini-Homestead, we have maintained a backyard garden, growing tomatoes, greens, kale, squash and other vegetables, despite the partial shade. We have also planted fruiting bushes and trees, giving us good crops of blueberries, raspberries, gooseberries and apples. We have planted aronia berry bushes, as well as papaw and hazelnut trees. Many nutritive and healing herbs grow in the understory, supplying plenty of delicious tea mixes.

Canning supplies will be available at our Homestead Giveaway.

We have also enjoyed preserving food, by canning, storing, drying and freezing. Every fall, we can tomatoes and applesauce and sometimes pickles, chutney and beans. I crush and freeze our abundant berries and later make jars of jam, which make excellent gifts as well as tasty spreads.

We have gotten most of our winter heat from wood and sun. Nick keeps the stove going most mornings and evenings, and enjoys cutting, splitting and stacking logs. The last few years, we have also had wood delivered. The warmth from our woodstove is more than degrees; it also provides a cozy atmosphere. Our south-facing windows and thermal air panels use passive solar energy to supplement the stove on sunny days.

Speaking of sun, we installed solar hot-water panels on our roof about 20 years ago. They had to come down this year to accommodate our 27 PV panels, which we hope will provide us with most of our electricity. For years, we thought we didn’t have enough south-facing roof space to make solar panels work, and were delighted to be shown how they could be accommodated.

We do most of our cooking from scratch, and seldom go to restaurants. I have enjoyed making bread and soups over the last few years. We bought a solar oven that cooks food on sunny days, though we often have to move it around so it can catch the rays.

We have put so much homemade compost on our garden that the levels of some minerals are off the charts. We maintain his-and-hers composting operations, including two Earth Machines and several heaps surrounded by cinder blocks. While most people get rid of their leaves, we receive them from neighbors, then grind them up for use in compost and as mulch.

Our yard is not neat and tidy, but is semi-wild, with an abundance of birds, lots of pollination opportunities for bees, as well as visitations from deer, foxes, possums, skunks and raccoons. Woodchucks are less welcome visitors, and we’ve built a specially designed fence around our vegetable garden to keep these marauders out.

We installed four barrels to capture the rainwater as it comes off our roofs. During last summer’s drought, they enabled us to irrigate our garden without taxing our town’s water supply. We also dug a narrow, winding ditch to direct groundwater on our high-water-table backyard to a deeper and wider catchment area that we call “Lake Eames.” We constructed a mini-nature walk around this seasonal wet area.

Some of the homesteading magazines and books on offer.

When our sons left home almost 20 years ago, we converted our upstairs to tenant space, enabling us to moderate the drawdown of our savings as we enter our seventies. This year, we cut back from two tenants to one, to provide two bedrooms for our son and his family when they visit.

We’ve done a lot to live out our homestead dreams – albeit in a hybrid manner – practicing sustainability while also living in town and Nick working at an office job. But there are some things that, as I approach my 72^nd birthday, I realize I have to give up.

I wanted to build a greenhouse next to our garden, and have been collecting old windows, screens, insulation, plastic milk jugs and wood to repurpose for this structure. Time to let this one go. I also have collected wheels from old wagons, planning to build a movable chicken coop. We shared chickens and eggs with a neighbor for a few years, but it’s a lot of work, so I’m letting go of this dream as well.

I had aspirations to make wine from the dandelions that grow so profusely in our yard in the spring. I tried it a couple of times, with limited success. I did make a stir-fry using dandelion greens recently, though. We tried tapping maple trees and making syrup by boiling the sap down on an outdoor wood fire, but this involved a huge amount of work for a tiny amount of syrup. I don’t have the energy and time to do this again.

We acquired some drip-irrigation hoses, but I haven’t gotten around to installing them in the garden. The current rainbarrel-to-watering-can method works well enough, so I am ready to shed this as well,

Plants have a life cycle, and people do too. By paring down my ambitions a few notches and giving away the associated materials and tools, I hope to focus my remaining time and energies on the activities, organizations and inter-personal connections that give my life meaning and purpose, and seem doable now. I hope that many of the tools and treasures I’ve accumulated can be useful to the next generation of homesteaders.