Dramatic Change in Plans: Hello, New Mexico!
And now for a dramatic change in plans: For the last month or so, I've been living in a mostly off-the-grid house in New Mexico. Here's a view from the front porch of the house.
For a variety of reasons, in June, M and I decided that homesteading in Virginia at the present time was not a good idea. And I decided that I could not go back to teaching at the university in the fall, due to health problems.
After a few conversations we arrived at a new plan: move someplace, at least for the summer and during medical leave, where the cost of living would be cheaper and which would support my health--someplace with less heat and humidity, less stress from traffic and people, and more aligned with our interests and values.
We packed up a moving van and my car, and moved four people (M, myself, my mother, and my son), along with two cats and two dogs, across the country during the hottest days of the summer. During the second to last day of driving, I looked at my car dashboard and saw that it was 104 degrees at 8:30 p.m. in Kansas.
So here we are, living in the Rio Grande Rift Valley. It's a major change, that's for sure. I have very occasionally moments of missing Maryland; other than that, I very happy here.
So far, we've been learning about the native wildlife and the land. We've seen a tarantula crawl across our doorstep twice, encountered a Western Diamondback Rattlesnake curled up in a mound next to a walking path close to the house, found a (dead) desert centipede in our water holding tank, and rescued a scorpion from the bathtub. Yesterday, out on an after-dinner walk, I came across the tracks of what were either a bighorn sheep or a mountain goat. A few steps later, I saw unfamiliar tracks that at first glance brought to mind those of a panda bear. A much more likely culprit is a mountain lion. This is definitely not the suburbs of D.C. Nor is it the woods of the northeast, the habitat I'm most familiar with.
This has already been an incredible learning experience. One learning experience still in process is how to garden in the high desert. We're in the midst of monsoon season and we get almost daily thunderstorms in the afternoons. Even so, given the elevation and the strength of the sunlight, it's extremely arid. When we first visited the house and decided to rent it back at the end of June and the beginning of July, we helped our new landlady plant some seeds in the small garden. I had hoped to supplement these plants with the seedlings I had already started in Maryland but decided at the last minute that the trip across the county would be too taxing for them and it wouldn't be worth bringing them all into the motel rooms each evening. By the time we moved in at the end of July, the seedlings we'd planted with the landlady had germinated. But somehow the drip irrigation system had been shut off and the plants were very stunted and withered. Many things hadn't germinated at all.
Since then, though, with the drip irrigation system back on and the weeds removed, the seedlings have grown substantially. We now have four tomato plants that are producing small tomatoes that look like some kind of Roma variety, a summer squash plant that is producing crook neck bumpy squash, sunflowers, morning glories, zinnias, and other plants that I have yet to identify. The still-unidentified plants appear to be cucumbers, squashes, and pumpkins. I've also planted some seeds of my own, with mixed success. None of my cauliflower seeds germinated, only two spinach seeds germinated, and very few of the carrots have made an appearance. On the other hand, I've got quite a few new broccoli plants, a lot of small lettuce plants, and a fair number of baby radishes. The squash I planted in two hills also have germinated. One plant looks close to flowering. About half the yellow and green beans I planted germinated. I'm hoping to put in some garlic and onions in the next few weeks after it cools off to over-winter.
There are so many hummingbirds around the flowers and feeders that they sound like wasps swarming.
For a variety of reasons, in June, M and I decided that homesteading in Virginia at the present time was not a good idea. And I decided that I could not go back to teaching at the university in the fall, due to health problems.
After a few conversations we arrived at a new plan: move someplace, at least for the summer and during medical leave, where the cost of living would be cheaper and which would support my health--someplace with less heat and humidity, less stress from traffic and people, and more aligned with our interests and values.
We packed up a moving van and my car, and moved four people (M, myself, my mother, and my son), along with two cats and two dogs, across the country during the hottest days of the summer. During the second to last day of driving, I looked at my car dashboard and saw that it was 104 degrees at 8:30 p.m. in Kansas.
So here we are, living in the Rio Grande Rift Valley. It's a major change, that's for sure. I have very occasionally moments of missing Maryland; other than that, I very happy here.
So far, we've been learning about the native wildlife and the land. We've seen a tarantula crawl across our doorstep twice, encountered a Western Diamondback Rattlesnake curled up in a mound next to a walking path close to the house, found a (dead) desert centipede in our water holding tank, and rescued a scorpion from the bathtub. Yesterday, out on an after-dinner walk, I came across the tracks of what were either a bighorn sheep or a mountain goat. A few steps later, I saw unfamiliar tracks that at first glance brought to mind those of a panda bear. A much more likely culprit is a mountain lion. This is definitely not the suburbs of D.C. Nor is it the woods of the northeast, the habitat I'm most familiar with.
This has already been an incredible learning experience. One learning experience still in process is how to garden in the high desert. We're in the midst of monsoon season and we get almost daily thunderstorms in the afternoons. Even so, given the elevation and the strength of the sunlight, it's extremely arid. When we first visited the house and decided to rent it back at the end of June and the beginning of July, we helped our new landlady plant some seeds in the small garden. I had hoped to supplement these plants with the seedlings I had already started in Maryland but decided at the last minute that the trip across the county would be too taxing for them and it wouldn't be worth bringing them all into the motel rooms each evening. By the time we moved in at the end of July, the seedlings we'd planted with the landlady had germinated. But somehow the drip irrigation system had been shut off and the plants were very stunted and withered. Many things hadn't germinated at all.
Since then, though, with the drip irrigation system back on and the weeds removed, the seedlings have grown substantially. We now have four tomato plants that are producing small tomatoes that look like some kind of Roma variety, a summer squash plant that is producing crook neck bumpy squash, sunflowers, morning glories, zinnias, and other plants that I have yet to identify. The still-unidentified plants appear to be cucumbers, squashes, and pumpkins. I've also planted some seeds of my own, with mixed success. None of my cauliflower seeds germinated, only two spinach seeds germinated, and very few of the carrots have made an appearance. On the other hand, I've got quite a few new broccoli plants, a lot of small lettuce plants, and a fair number of baby radishes. The squash I planted in two hills also have germinated. One plant looks close to flowering. About half the yellow and green beans I planted germinated. I'm hoping to put in some garlic and onions in the next few weeks after it cools off to over-winter.
There are so many hummingbirds around the flowers and feeders that they sound like wasps swarming.
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