Day 2
Submitted by 1sweed on Sat, 04/13/2013 - 12:53
Somedays I am filled with a sense of hope, a hope that stems from the depth of my heart that I will wake up some morning and the fibro will be gone. This hope has lots of dreams and memories of plans I had for my life that got buried in boxes when my fibro moved into the house.
I have been going through those boxes and sorting out the dreams and memories. Some of these came in the form of old forgotten letters, while others are in articles and clippings from newspapers detailing how to live off-grid in the wilderness.
This dream of mine was a plan to buy some land in the country and build a small house that drew water from a well, by the means of a hand pump and was heated by a small woodstove. I had planned to put in a composting toilet and have bunks build along one wall, with a loft above. On this land I would have lived a simple life, marked only by the work of my hands and sweat of my brow.
I read books on wilderness survival, that gave me detailed information on finding edible wild plants and herbal remedies. I hiked the woodlands to get to understand the lay of the land, knowing by sight and feel how to get from point A to point B, without getting lost.
I also read books about people with dreams like mine that did it. They went out into the wilderness of Canada, and built their dream homes or bought land with buildings already in place and lived there for years. Some of the books were humorous for the people were greenhorns as far as wilderness living was concerned. But others had experience and the knowledge to get the job done. Books can be an eye-opening experience in learning from others mistakes. Someday when the fibro leaves me, if I am not to old or weak, or poor, I will live out my dream if only done one day at a time.
I have been going through those boxes and sorting out the dreams and memories. Some of these came in the form of old forgotten letters, while others are in articles and clippings from newspapers detailing how to live off-grid in the wilderness.
This dream of mine was a plan to buy some land in the country and build a small house that drew water from a well, by the means of a hand pump and was heated by a small woodstove. I had planned to put in a composting toilet and have bunks build along one wall, with a loft above. On this land I would have lived a simple life, marked only by the work of my hands and sweat of my brow.
I read books on wilderness survival, that gave me detailed information on finding edible wild plants and herbal remedies. I hiked the woodlands to get to understand the lay of the land, knowing by sight and feel how to get from point A to point B, without getting lost.
I also read books about people with dreams like mine that did it. They went out into the wilderness of Canada, and built their dream homes or bought land with buildings already in place and lived there for years. Some of the books were humorous for the people were greenhorns as far as wilderness living was concerned. But others had experience and the knowledge to get the job done. Books can be an eye-opening experience in learning from others mistakes. Someday when the fibro leaves me, if I am not to old or weak, or poor, I will live out my dream if only done one day at a time.
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