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Prefab Living, Small Footprint, As Footprints On Our Hearts Wane.

It has been a long, hard week at the off grid passive solar prefab home.

We have been filing police reports, insurance claims... and, once a guest in our home, the thief confessed.
I had to take quite some time off of work to deal with the theft... and am now catching up frantically with work deadlines.

So: An adamant, angry denial ebbed into confession. And now?
The trumpet was returned, but the rest of the family silver unreturned, a valuable ring missing, our family and children's heritage still mostly missing... It was interesting how his tune changed from adamant insulted denial to Let's... Make A Deal.

In tandem, someone commented on an old post, and I re-read it... it resonated for me, personally not professionally, for so many reasons:

So. When you're overwhelmed, doing too much, and under too much stress, there is nothing left to do than to can 50 pounds of pasta sauce on a cook stove to keep yourself distracted.
[I am never doing that again.]
(Not the amount- but on a cook stove. When I see my Amish neighbor L.E. this week, I will be sobbing.
But then again, I'm sure she's more modern and on propane, lol!)

I will never allow ourselves to be victimized by Song And Dance People. Ever again. No matter how much they lay claim to our person.

Best library book this week:
When Marian Sang, by Pam Munoz Ryan, about a singer whom I adore, Marian Anderson.

In a way, our journey is about freedom...
We assert the right to consider and evaluate those whom have laid claim to us, and to leave.

Reading Club:
Maybe when you, thief, think you're really winning... the rest of the world sees you, true.
You cut out o' there.

The weekend dawned with an invitation to a football game.
My old Goth self cringed, while I, my Now, thoroughly enjoyed the Americana scene, right out of Friday Night Lights.
After, we stopped in Charlotte Court House and admired where Patrick Henry and John Randolph argued state's rights...
...played on the cannons...
...Finally ending up at my Amish friend's, L.E., where I recounted my cook stove canning woes.
She is on wood too, not propane. She soothed: "Yo. I'mma gonna come over and check OUT yo canning apocalypse mess. If yo stove has issues, I'll slap it silly."

[Ok. The Amish don't really talk like that.
But after a hard, hard week, it's nice to know my Amish friend has my back...]

With the police handling the thefts, we focused on working on the predator-proof-chicken pen so I can leave every now and then for DC. 
[I wonder if this cages in childrenz, too?]
Handsome Husband continued reusing scrap wood to build shelves...
At one point we headed into Farmville.
Crossing the street, I overheard a 20 year old
say to her parents,
"Now THIS is a small town."
She has no idea.

With his Swiss Army Knife always pocketed, as we strolled the historic Longwood University lawn, Pipsqueak 1 challenged me to a game of mumbly peg.
Mumbly Peg Ninja.
Step back, Son.

I won.
I turned to Handsome Husband: "Did you ever think, growing up in Hamburg, Germany, that one day you would marry the Camp Manakin Mumbly Peg Champion?!?" He rolled his eyes. What. I'm serious!

A lovely afternoon froze, when, sauntering about, so happy to be in Farmville, expecting to use some of his money from his own personal money bag for a yogurt or similar treat, Pipsqueak 1 pulled out the worn, crinkled bag he carries carefully when going on adventure, full of lemonade stand and birthday money, and asked,
"Momma. Why does my money bag just have coins and a dollar in it now?"
We all... stopped. And immediately knew the answer. I'm so sorry, honey.

One thing I admire about the children is that they register truth, then move on. I'm continually amazed by how UN-scarred they are by the people who have hurt our family so deeply this year.
It must be because we are surrounded by so much love. From those that matter.
I can honestly say our children are healthy, vibrant, happy.

Back at the passive solar prefab house, I unpacked and unpacked and unpacked into the new shelves, and then? Decided I was going to shift the entire house around.

Expect beautiful interior shots next week.
Or? At the very least, expect a big ole mess.
Off Grid Notes:
Remember the chest freezer we turned into an off grid refrigerator?  The top works, but the bottom never really holds beer or vegetables quite at the right temperature... it's an affordable off grid refridgerator solution for now, but I know that in 1-2 years after we get settled in we will revisit that decision. Hey, for $250 vs. $2,500 for a proper off grid fridge, it is a good choice for now.

Exactly A Year Ago Handsome Husband Ran To New York As The Company Where He Worked Was Sold, AGAIN, and our One Day We'll Live There / Pay As You Go, Slowly Plan to live permanently in our beloved prefab off grid home turned quickly into the Now Plan.

In spite of the tumult and the boxes and the construction that is finally catching up with our schedule, when I look at the fading light over the trees and ridges settling into a beautiful starry sky... when we see our friends, so often, for unexpected potlucks during the week... 
There is never a moment I don't love it here, finally home.

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