Mentally redesigning a backyard

My parents have a modest suburban home. They've lived here for almost 20 years and very much like both their home and the town in which they live. Their backyard is unusually spacious (according to Google Earth, about 60 x 60 feet).

While here visiting, Dad asked me to do some weeding in some three-tiered garden beds in the side yard. I like weeding (yeah, I know I'm weird), so I didn't mind at all.

I used a flat-head screwdriver as  a weeding stick, though the soil is so soft I mostly didn't need it.

While I weeded, I looked over my parents' large yard and mentally redesigned it to become an urban homestead.

Consider these ideas. The gardening shed you see against the back wall could become a chicken coop, with about one-quarter of the yard fenced for that purposes.

The rest of the yard could become raised beds. I estimate at least 25 three-by-eight-foot beds (probably more) could fit back here, including three-foot spaces between beds for wheelbarrow access. This many raised beds in the backyard would still allow space for the patio and maybe even a drum composter.

That doesn't include the side yard, which could also be reconfigured with different grow beds. (I know from experience the three-tiered configuration of these existing beds makes for difficult access for the upper tier.)

The climate of this particular town would allow almost year-round growing conditions. Put everything on a drip system, and water usage during drier months would be modest. You could harvest an enormous amount of food from a backyard garden this large.

If Don and I lived here, I could see us doing this. However we don't, and my parents aren't in a position to care for an extensive garden and chickens, so the backyard is what it is.

But it makes for nice daydreaming while pulling weeds.

Dinner and a show

So yesterday evening, when Dad and I were in the nursing home feeding my mother dinner, another elderly lady sat at the same table opposite us. She was tiny and perky and sparkled with intelligence. And my goodness, she loved to chatter. (I don't know her name, but for purposes of this blog post, I'll call her Jane.)

The CNA (certified nursing assistant) who was sitting with Jane was trying to encourage her to eat her dinner, but Jane would have none of it. She kept telling the CNA to turn around and look in the courtyard outside the dining room windows, because the universe would tell the CNA the best way the rainbow unicorns could adjust her elbows, or something similarly nonsensical. The CNA – who was the soul of patience – kept trying to get Jane to eat her meal, but Jane kept demanding answers from the CNA about why she wasn't letting the magical marbles fix the overhead lights. And I mean she was demanding answers.

And so, I'm sorry to say, Dad and I start to giggle. We were trying not to be too obvious about it, but as Jane's observations got more and more creative, we started laughing harder and harder.

And then – really, it could hardly get any better – Jane burst out singing with a unique rendition of "Onward Christian Soldiers," belting out the tune with lyrics touching on sidewalk bricks and telephones. To be honest, she had a very decent singing voice (certainly better than mine).

Well, Dad and I lost it. Just lost it. We were laughing so hard, I kept having to wipe the tears from my eyes with a bandana.

And then, those rainbow unicorns really DID adjust some elbows, so to speak. My mom started laughing too. And I mean full-out laughing. She was giving great big belly laughs, just like she used to. She wasn't laughing at Jane; she was laughing with Dad and me. It was a magical sound.

When Jane finished singing, the entire dining room burst into applause which, to be honest, I don't think Jane really connected to her singing. She just kept demanding to know why the CNA was allowing those purple salamanders to lodge in her hair.

"Dinner and a show," I remarked to the CNA, wiping my eyes.

Dad and I finished feeding Mom her dinner, then took her down the hall to the "activities room" until she got sleepy enough to put to bed.

But we agreed we're going to try and sit at Jane's table whenever we can. She's a gem.

The power of language

My dad and I go to the rehab center twice a day to feed my mother lunch and dinner. We're becoming more familiar with both the staff and the patients, and they're all a wonderful bunch of people.

Today the speech therapist stopped by to tell us what kinds of exercises she's doing with my mother. In a way, Mom is having to learn to speak again. When she does talk, her speech is slow and mumbled. The speech therapist is teaching her how to say certain important phrases: "I'm hungry." "I'm tired." "I need to use the bathroom." Etc.

So today, as I fed my mother some puréed food, Mom turned her head, looked directly at Dad, and said indistinctly, "I love you."

You can imagine my father's reaction. The power of language.

Large families

I thought I'd share a small incident I noticed in the Salt Lake City airport last Thursday as I sat in a coffee shop, waiting for my connecting flight and working on some writing.

The stretch of airport where I sat had one of those moving sidewalks to assist passengers in traversing the long distance. A family came by, with young children who were taking great delight in the moving sidewalk. Three kids were giggling and exclaiming over this exotic form of transportation.

And then I saw four kids. And then five. And then six, as Dad helped along a toddler barely walking. And then seven. And then I saw the mother, pushing a tiny baby in a stroller.

My goodness, eight children, all seemingly under the age of ten. But more than that, eight happy children. Eight well-behaved children. Eight children who were shepherded and corralled by parents through a large airport with nary a tear, tantrum, or even a stern word. The parents were even smiling and not looking stressed.

Some people, it seems, “do” large families very well. This appeared to be one of them. It was just a small, brief incident, but it left me smiling.

Update on my parents

Thank you, my dear readers, for all your kind prayers concerning the situation with my parents. I apologize for the silence of the last few days. Here's an update.

I'm here in Southern California with my dad (who will be 90 in July). My mother (who is 93) is currently in a nearby rehabilitation center after being hospitalized a couple weeks ago. She had a severe stroke a couple years ago which took out her dominant (right) side, but despite that she wasn't doing too badly. My father was still able to care for her at home with the help of mobility aids, a wonderful in-home care assistant who came in twice a week to bathe her, etc.

Since I only see my parents about once a year, it was clear to me that my mom was gradually declining, but my father (perhaps stubbornly) was seeing incremental steps and still insisted he could keep her at home and care for her himself.

Last October, God knows how, both my parents got COVID. Dad recuperated at home, but Mom was hospitalized. Both recovered, but we think it was this bout of COVID that precipitated an extremely rapid decline in my mother's health.

My three brothers, one of whom lives an hour away and the other two of whom live in the Bay Area, have been wonderful over the past couple of months, tag-teaming to stay with my parents and assist with my mother's care. Then my dad took a fall (tripped in the middle of the night on the way to the bathroom) and received some muscle damage in his arm as well as other bumps and bruises, and it became crystal-clear that my mother could no longer be cared for at home, no matter how much my dad wanted it.

Mom was transferred to a rehab facility which is, thankfully, only a couple of miles away from my parents' house. She is unable to speak coherently, unable to walk, sit up without assistance, etc. Her decline (both mental and physical) is so abrupt that everyone is baffled. Possibly it's due to rapid-onset Alzheimer's resulting from COVID; we don't know.

While originally I thought I would be here to assist with my mother's physical care, the urgency of that reason disappeared when she was transferred to the rehab facility. My job then became convincing my dad that Mom cannot come home, for her own safety.

My dad is a former engineer; he's a logical thinker; but this was his blind spot. My parents have been married 66 years, and he couldn't accept that she had to stay under expert care. My brothers were gently trying to convince him, but he wouldn't agree.

The trouble is, Mom is not responding to any of the therapies offered in the rehab center (speech/physical/occupational), and the staff is recommending she be transferred to the other side of the building, to the long-term care facility. Dad didn't want this; he wanted her home.

Then, on my second evening here, we went to see my mom and feed her dinner (Dad is there twice a day, feeding her both lunch and dinner), and she was so out of it that it became clear even to my dad that she couldn't come home. He had a rough night and a rough follow-up morning as he came to grips with this reality. It was for this reason, if no other, that I'm glad to be here to support him.

Part of the urgency to have my dad accept this is because as long as my mom is a patient at the rehab facility, then she has a smooth and automatic transfer to the long-term care facility. But if she's removed from the rehab center (to come home), then she loses that status and will be placed on a waiting list. And ... she can't wait. For her physical safety, she needs skilled care.

Anyway, that's the status at the moment. Dad and I go to the rehab center twice a day to feed her. I do most of the feeding; as I told Dad, "You'll have a longer chance to feed her. I won't" (since my visit here is fairly short).

My youngest brother, who has been incredible, warned me well about my mother's decline, so her condition wasn't a shock. It's just sad to see her regressing almost to an infantile state. But my dad hasn't wavered in his care for her, even though she's no longer at home. That, dear readers, is marriage.

I don't know how much longer I'll be here, but I'm guessing another 10 days or so. Dad and I have a meeting with my mother's caseworker this week to discuss the financial aspects (all the medi-whatevers: MediCal, MediCaid, MediCare, etc.). They'll transfer my mother to the long-term care side of the facility in the next couple of days.

Then, to make things worse, today we had to get a form notarized. My dad's sister (my aunt) isn't expected to live long. She never married or had children, so my dad is her closest living relative. He had to sign a consent form (and get it notarized) to have her buried in the family plot near my grandparents and great-grandparents. So yeah, it's been a tough month for my dad.

I deeply appreciate everyone's thoughts and prayers.

On the road again

I'm sitting here at an airport, waiting for a plane. Yep, I'm on the road again.

My mother is not doing well, and my brothers (who live considerably closer than I do) have been wonderful in helping my dad care for her. A couple weeks ago, when her degenerating health reached a crisis point, she was transferred first to the hospital and then to a nursing home. We are not certain yet whether she will come home.

So, I need to visit, if for no other reason than to support my dad while he deals with this new stage in life. My parents have been married – more like joined at the hip – for 66 years, so as you can imagine he misses her fiercely.

Anyway, this is to explain why Don and I left at 8 am this morning and drove to the airport (over four hours away). We didn't need to leave this early since my flight doesn't leave until 6 pm, but we both wanted him to be able to drive home during daylight hours.

So here I am, with three more hours to kill before my flight.

Fortunately I have my laptop, so I'm working on my daily half-chapter for my next Amish Inspirational. With this much time to kill, it will likely turn into a full chapter.

Meanwhile the dude you see walking away has paced back and forth at least 15 times, having a rather loud conversation with a business associate on one of those bluetooth gizmos where he looks like he's talking to himself. It's hard to tell whether it's a legitimate business conversation, or he's just showing off his technology. Probably a little of both.

I won't arrive at my destination until 10 pm tonight, and my youngest brother will pick me up and I'll spend the night at his house.

My goal for the foreseeable future is to make myself as helpful as possible to my dad as we assess my mother's future care.

It's hard watching one's parents approach the end of life.

Just when you think fashion can't get any more stupid...

Most long-time readers know I have no interest in fashion. As in, zip, zero, zilch, nada. I hate clothes and have little-to-no interest in makeup, jewelry, etc. Keep this in mind for a moment.

The other day, Older Daughter was packing up an order of tankards for shipment. This meant pulling together the various components needed for shipping: Newspapers, strapping tape, boxes, bubble wrap, etc.

Slipping the roll of strapping tape over her wrist for convenience as she taped up boxes, she suddenly asked us, "Have you heard of the Balenciaga bracelet?"

Neither Don nor I had heard of the Balenciaga bracelet, so she urged us to look it up online. And do you know what we saw? Strapping tape. Literally, a bracelet made to look like a roll of strapping tape.

And not just any strapping tape. This is strapping tape with a $4,000 price tag.

"High-end fashion brands have a reputation for coming up with the most unique ideas for their products," this article diplomatically phrased it. "This time, luxury fashion brand Balenciaga which is often in the news for its quirky products, launched a bracelet that looks exactly like a tape. The product looks like a regular roll of clear tape, however, it is branded with the Balenciaga logo and adhesive."

Now I realize most fashion novelties are not likely to become mainstream. I doubt many cutting-edge stylish women in, say, New York City will be walking down the street with a roll of strapping tape on their wrists.

But still, I have to admit: This is stupid, even by fashion's bizarre definition of what's fashionable. If nothing else, a roll of strapping tape is heavy.

I'm not the only one who finds it stupid. From the article: "The product has left internet users shocked, who are mercilessly mocking it on social media websites.  One user wrote on X, 'The luxury fashion house Balenciaga has once again sparked debate with its latest accessory, a bracelet designed to resemble a roll of clear tape, complete with the brand's logo and a hefty price tag of approximately $4,000! This is just insane.'"

And another:  "Several users criticized the brand and its attempts at turning regular household items into fashion accessories with massive price tags. Another person wrote, 'I swear this whole brand is just a big inside joke.'"

And so, because the Lewis family is deeply into frugality, we'd like to present: The Lewis bracelet.

You, too, can experience the height of cutting-edge fashion at a mere fraction of the price!

Follow me for more fashion advice.

Book Review Monday

Last week's Book Review Monday was in response to a reader question: "My daughter and her husband have purchased small acreage and are beginning their homestead journey. Both are city kids with no gardening or farm experience. Can you recommend a good book for beginners? Thanks."

We recommended several books, but decided to space out additional recommendations since we didn't want to overwhelm people. But needless to say, we have an extensive library of homesteading books.

Which is why I found it so funny when one reader commented as follows: "Another good reference is the old 'Back to Basics' book by Readers Digest, it's been republished since by another place, but full of good info."

I found this funny because this was one of the books we'd pulled out to review, then put back on the shelf until this week. But this reader is correct: "Back to Basics" is a phenomenal book. I've owned this copy since the 1980s.

It's kind of the "Ball Blue Book of Canning" of homesteading books: Beautifully illustrated and thorough, but not as intimidatingly comprehensive as Carla Emery's "Encyclopedia of Country Living."

Reader's Digest no longer prints this book, but it's now available in another format. The contents are identical.

Here is the Table of Contents (in my older copy):

See? Just beautiful.

Highly recommended.

Our next suggested reference is a new addition to our homesteading library, although it was published in 2011. This was a book we picked up at a tiny spot on the map called Silver Star, Montana at a place called Granny's Country Store. At the time we stopped in, Granny was out, and her son (whose name we regrettably missed) was packing up a significant portion of the inventory to attend a show, but the book selection in the store was still excellent.

One of the books we purchased is called "Homesteading in the 21st Century: How One Family Created a More Sustainable, Self-Sufficient, and Satisfying Life" by George Nash and Jane Waterman.

This couple has an impressive background in hippie living (interpret that as you will), but unquestionably their book is highly informative and reflects an imposing range of skills.

I would recommend this book without hesitation to beginning homesteaders.

Don's book recommendation is a practical manual called "How to Build Animal Housing: 60 Plans for Coops, Hutches, Barns, Sheds, Pens, Nestboxes, Feeders, Stanchions, and Much More" by Carol Ekarius.

Don's observations: "I own a lot of books about building construction, including those books dedicated to farm and ranch construction (I'll post more of these if you want). Some are just picture books for ideas, and others require that you understand construction at a more advanced level. This book fits well in between those extremes. It makes understanding the basics easy: Simple to complex foundations, small projects (from hutches to pens), all the way up to milking barns and stables. It also provides instructions on layout, air flow, simple electrical systems, and a lot more."

"Every homestead need outbuildings. This book will be a big help in deciding what you want." 

(Obligatory disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Affiliate, if you purchase through those links, I earn a small commission.)

Happy reading!

Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?

Don saw a startling headline a couple days ago: "Burrito Now, Pay Later: DoorDash-Klarna Deal Feeds U.S. Debt Addiction."

In a nutshell, the food delivery service DoorDash, having teamed up with the online financial server Klarna, will "let cash-strapped consumers pay for restaurant food, groceries and other delivery orders in four equal, interest-free installments, or "at a more convenient time, such as a date that aligns with their paycheck schedules."

Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?

This article sparked a lively discussion in the Lewis household. Older Daughter used to drive for DoorDash to earn extra money (this was during the pandemic lockdowns), so she's more familiar with the service than we are. But the one thing we kept noticing during the time she was driving was how much the price of a meal got jacked up as a result of the service (delivery + tip).

In some ways, this highlights a conundrum I've never understood. The article refers to "cash-strapped consumers." But if you're strapped for cash, why are you ordering food? If you can't afford a takeout meal, why are you ordering one? What is the financial benefit of spreading payment over four installments? What am I missing?

Maybe part of this era of DoorDash and other food delivery options has to do with a general aversion to cooking. Scratch cooking appears to be a dying art, and people have this big space in their house or apartment devoted to food preparation that never sees anyone prepare any food. Instead, people will order food and then be unable to afford to pay for it all at once.

Lest I sound too much like a curmudgeon, I understand there are times someone may be too tired or too sick to cook, in which case food delivery is nice for an occasional treat. The fact that such options don't exist in our rural area doesn't reflect the immense popularity of these services. But ordering food all the time? Yikes.

"Buy Now, Pay Later (BNPL) arrangements have surged in recent years," notes the article. "However, what began as a reasonable accommodation for large purchases like appliances and furniture has now metastasized to a point where Americans can finance Friday-night-pizza impulse-buys."

Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks this is a bad idea. The article notes, "For the financially disorganized or imminently insolvent, the interest-free option could prove to be a siren song that leaves their cash flow dashed against the metaphoric rocks of unexpectedly expensive burritos and Kung Pao chicken. ... Even for those who make timely payments, the interest-free option can have a destructive effect over time, by encouraging consumers to commit to spending more money than they would in the absence of the appealing, 'interest-free' enticement.

It continues: "The problem is these things start having a very pervasive and very negative influence on people who can't afford it,' Anish Nagpal, an University of Melbourne marketing professor who studies behavioral decision-making, told the Washington Post. "They just want something now, and they go into this spiral of debt and always trying to chase up and meet the payment requirement."

Don speculates that perhaps DoorDash – which boomed during the pandemic – might be experiencing hard times and looking for ways to boost their business. However this is pure speculation.

It strikes me that lessons in impulse control, scratch cooking, and money management would all be equally useful additions to our educational system.

Creative quartet!

Oh wow. Wow wow wow. I stumbled across this video of a quartet of very creative musicians. Watch and enjoy.

The link is here. The Twitter post says:

What a marvel! A staging with all the creativity. Only these fantastic girls could have chosen such an amazing musical cocktail, with a sensational staging.♥️😄🎧 pic.twitter.com/Cm6viPE0WA

— Love Classical Music 🎺🎻💖 (@AlexTran677026) February 18, 2025

The life of an amateur photographer

Recently I received a comment as follows: "Hi Patrice, I was wondering if you could do a blog post about your camera. Your photos are always so fantastic. I've been thinking about getting a camera and am not sure where to start. I also know you are thrifty, so any money-saving tips would be helpful."

Back when Don and I had been married for about a year or so (around 1991), we invested in a very good 35-mm film camera. This was, of course, before digital photography. It was a high-quality piece of equipment designed for the layperson, which worked for us since neither of us have photography experience. We just wanted something we could use to take pictures.

The disadvantage of this camera was its size. It was bulky enough that spontaneous photos seldom happened. You had to deliberately plan to use it. But honestly, it never occurred to us to look into alternatives.

Fast forward to, I dunno, maybe 2006 or so. Don was away on a business trip, and he took the camera with him. But we were having a steer butchered in his absence, and I wanted to document the process. So – a neighbor loaned me her pocket camera.

I was stunned. It was small, portable, easy to use, infinitely convenient, and digital. Almost immediately I started lobbying to get a pocket camera of our own.

It was a pricey thing for us, but eventually we bought a Panasonic Lumix DMC-ZS50 with a 30x zoom. The cost was around $350.

It's not that this particular model is the best, or has the slimmest profile, or any other outstanding feature. But it was available at the time, and Panasonic is a reputable brand. It turned out to be a very good, solid, dependable piece of equipment. Since that initial purchase almost 20 years ago, I think I'm on my third identical camera because, let's face it, I beat the poor things to death on a homestead.

I carry it with me almost every time I step foot outside (see this post to understand why). I've learned, however, not to just shove it in my pocket, since I damaged my first camera by doing that. Because the case it comes with is too bulky for my taste, I use an inexpensive nylon zippered bag and keep the camera tucked inside whenever it's in my pocket.

Pocket cameras are disappearing from the market now that the ubiquitous smart phone has taken over the industry (and, to be fair, often do a better job), but I am absolutely devoted to the genre, especially since I have no interest in getting a smart phone. I don't even know if they make this particular model anymore – we did a hasty on-line search and found tons of pre-owned units but no new ones. Still, I'm sure there are other pocket cameras out there; I'm just not familiar enough with the market to recommend anything.

In my case, the best thing I enjoy about my camera is its zoom feature. Not everything worth photographing happens close by; often I need to zoom out to capture, say, distant elk in a snowy field.

Other times, the macro features allow me to capture excellent close-up shots.

In short, it's an excellent and versatile tool for my amateur needs.

Over the years I've picked up a little skill in photography, but I'm still very much an amateur, which is why I like point-and-shoot cameras. Still, once in a while I manage to get lucky and grab a Very Good Shot, in which case I save that photo into a separate file. I probably have over 600 such photos archived. One of these days I may open an Etsy shop and try selling them.

Going back to the original comment: "I also know you are thrifty, so any money-saving tips would be helpful." I'm not sure I can offer many thrifty tips beyond the recommendation never to shove an unprotected camera in your pocket (as I did at first) or otherwise subject the camera to battering it's not designed to withstand. In other words, take care of your equipment!

There are loads of pre-owned cameras online for far less money than new cameras, but of course purchasing these may be risky. It might be better to visit a specialty store in person and take a look at their pre-owned merchandise and get expert guidance.

I suppose the only other advice I have is, once you have a camera, use it. Practice practice practice. Ninety-nine percent of your shots will be lousy; but then you'll get a dazzler. That's all the motivation you need to keep learning, trying, testing, and experimenting. I know nothing about apertures, aspect ratios, or focal lengths, and frankly I don't care to learn. It's just not my passion. I just like to take pretty pictures.

I'll admit, however, this cartoon cracked me up (source). Yup, been there.

Happy shooting!

Whatchamacallit Stirfry

Older Daughter has begun a new cooking campaign.

To recap, Older Daughter pays "rent" by cooking for us. She has become an impressive and creative cook and has introduced us to many new and wonderful dishes. She's also great at improvising, and she's been doing this a lot lately. How?

Well, with our spending lockdown after my job loss, she is determined to use up a lot of random things we have in the chest freezer. She is almost to the point of closing her eyes, extracting something random from the freezer, and creating a meal around it.

Today she pulled out a pound of ground turkey. From this, she created what we called Whatchamacallit Stirfry, which consisted of:

• Veggies we already had in the fridge, including sweet peppers, carrots, cabbage

• A few random potstickers from the freezer

• Angel-hair pasta

• Ingredients we keep on hand such as sesame oil, soy sauce, ginger

It. Was. Fabulous.

Older Daughter's culinary creativity is saving us a fair bit of money as we adjust to this new lifestyle. It's also underscores what items we hope to grow in the garden this year to supply ingredients for her next Whatchamacallit Stirfry.