Wanted: Perfection

There is a website entitled "Where Should I Live?" which narrows down one's ideal city (it's always a city) based on various criteria such as nature, climate, demographics, transportation, politics, food, size, and cost of living. For those looking to relocate, it helps narrow down what part of the country would be most amenable to one's particular preferences.

But always remember, perfection isn't possible. When we bought our property in late 2020, it was the height of the pandemic lockdowns and rural properties were being snatched up fast. We knew our new place wasn't perfect, but it hit many of the marks we had on our bucket list. We decided to bloom where we were planted, and have been very happy here since.

These factors came to mind recently when Don spotted a post on a "Homesteaders for Beginners" page in which a woman was looking for ... perfection.

The image is a little hard to see, so I transcribed the wish list. Her requirements include:

• Affordable housing
• Lots of jobs to offer

Bonus for:

• Pagan-friendly/accepting
• More small-town feel
• Generally kind respectful people
• Homeschool friendly
• Homestead friendly

She absolutely did NOT want to consider the following states:

• Washington
• Oregon
• California
• Florida
• Arizona
• New York

Later, she added more information as follows (edited slightly for grammar, spelling, punctuation):

"I grew up Mormon and don't mind church folk, but as an adult I'm more of a closet pagan and rather keep to myself anyway, so again not a requirement. Would just be a nice bonus. To get on my feet, I need to be able to find a job and find affordable housing. But the end game is buying land to start a homestead. I just don't want a place that's miserable dying heat like six months out of the year. I have a mixed stepdaughter, so want her welcomed in whatever place we make home. I already barely socialize due to social anxiety, but it would be great to find an accepting community to be a part of, but again more than happy to stay on our land and ignore our neighbors if needed. I've grown up in Washington and lived in Idaho [and] Oregon, and just plain sick of the PNW [Pacific Northwest]. I have always wanted the small-town farm life and I just want to find a place to make that happen."

Ironically, it sounds like her ideal community would be somewhere in Western Oregon or Western Washington (west of the Cascades). However given the states she absolutely does not want to consider, I'm a bit stymied where she might settle that would fill all her other criteria.

I sincerely hope what this nascent homesteader realizes is perfection doesn't exist. Some places might get close, yes; but most of us do better by blooming where we're planted.

A new career for Older Daughter

I've been making a few oblique references to some exciting developments with Older Daughter, so here is what's happening.

You might remember her accident on New Year's Eve in which she touched the router with the tip of her index finger, which mangled her fingertip. This resulted in a painful and lengthy recovery (you don't appreciate how often you use your index finger until you can't). The incident effectively put an end to her woodworking career, especially since the business was no longer as profitable as it once was.

Now let's go back to a year before that, during a couple of months bracketing late 2024 and early 2025. At that time she was attending the necessary coursework to become a Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA). She aced the coursework, the practicum, and the final exam, but didn't start work as a CNA at a local facility until March, after she had finished up a few wholesale orders with the woodcraft business.

Her new job was part-time, since she was still running the woodcraft business, but she got enough experience to know she's both good at, and thoroughly enjoys, the profession. She has a gift she inherited from Don; namely, the ability to emote with patients to know what kind of approach to take. Sometimes she has to be tough, sometimes funny, sometimes sympathetic, sometimes firm.

A true story from when she was working the week-long practicum at a rehab facility in another city: A woman had just entered the facility who (to put it mildly) didn't want to be there. The other CNAs were treating her very kindly and patiently, trying to settle her into the routine.

The first time Older Daughter went in to assist the lady out of bed, the other woman snarled, "I hate it here! I don't want to be here!"

Older Daughter started with the trite surface-level empathy. "I understand..."

But this lady was having none of it. "No, you don't understand."

Older Daughter realized this lady was right, so she said (pardon the language), "You're right. I don't understand. It sucks that you have to be here, doesn't it?"

Startled, the other woman replied, "Yeah! It does suck! You're right!"

And from then on, she and this other woman were friends, and the lady was able to start establishing herself in the facility. What the woman needed was affirmation and sympathy, but not the syrupy-sweet kind she was getting from the other staff members. She needed something hard-hitting and truthful.

That's what I mean when I say Older Daughter has the talent for knowing what kind of approach to take with individual patients. Whether it's belting out the lyrics to "Rawhide" with an old cowboy as she pushes his wheelchair down a hallway, or gently untangling knotted hair for a woman who takes pride in her appearance, the patients absolutely adore her.

After seeing the way the CNAs work in my mom's nursing home (they run the place!), I told Older Daughter, "You're doing a good thing." Sometimes she would come home discouraged or even in tears about something that happened, but I tell her, "Think about what you're doing. You're giving these people dignity at a time in their lives when their dignity is at a very low ebb."

Anyway, bottom line, working as a CNA has awakened an interest in going further and getting her nursing degree. For the last year or so, she's been thinking about this possibility (becoming a CNA was the first step), but she was stymied because she wasn't ready to give up the woodcraft business yet, and moving closer to nursing school while trying to drag an entire shop of power tools in her wake was turning into a logistical nightmare.

That's why injuring her finger may have been a blessing in disguise. She was able to graciously exit the woodcraft business and turn fully to health care as a career.

This was reinforced by an extremely interesting and almost amusing thing that happened while she was getting patched up in the emergency room on New Year's Eve.

Understand that she came in directly from the shop when she injured her finger. She was covered in blood and sawdust, and as she and Don walked into the emergency room, she was trailing sawdust like the character Pigpen in the old Peanuts cartoons.

The nurse said, "I need to take your vitals. I forgot to grab them earlier because we usually have an ER tech, but she's not here tonight."

Older Daughter mentioned that her blood pressure tends to spike when it's being measured (she inherited Don's "white-coat syndrome"), and when she practiced blood-pressure readings in her clinicals, everyone got wildly different results.

The nurse was a little startled and asked "In what context?" That's when Older Daughter explained that she's a CNA.

The nurse said, "A real CNA? As in, licensed?" Older Daughter said yes.

The nurse said, half-jokingly, "If you need any more work around here, let me know."  Older Daughter said, "I might. I'm not getting many hours in my current job."

Then, I kid you not, the nurse disappeared and returned with the staffing manager, who came over with a big smile to introduce herself. Now remember, Older Daughter is covered in blood and sawdust, and in a considerable amount of pain. She apologized for her appearance, and the head nurse said, "Oh no, that's fine! So you're a certified CNA right now?" Older Daughter affirmed this, and the head nurse said, "They're currently looking for CNAs in the emergency room. We could train you to be an ER tech and teach you to do IVs." She handed Older Daughter her business card and urged her to stay in touch.

We got a chuckle over this impromptu interview, but Older Daughter couldn't follow up on the offer until her finger had healed sufficiently. Later she applied for the position, but learned that it paid less than she was getting at her original CNA job, so she declined it.

However the incident sparked a series of events which culminated this past week with some exciting developments:

• She applied to an extremely respected nursing school and was accepted. The acceptance happened about a month ago, and last week she met with an academic adviser to map out the appropriate coursework.

• She applied for a job as a CNA at an upscale facility in the same city and was offered a full-time job, with the understanding that her hours will need to be worked around her class schedule. (Apparently the facility deals with nursing students all the time, so this was nothing unusual.)

• She took the math placement exam and was deemed qualified for college math (this one had her worried).

• She found a beautiful studio apartment in a safe and enviable part of town, with beautiful trees outside her huge window. The apartment comes with a dishwasher, refrigerator, and washer/dryer. The price isn't bad, either, and it's only about half a mile from campus.

In short, it's been a tremendously exciting time for her. She's starting to pack and sort through her things, deciding what to keep and what to sell at our future yard sale. She'll be moving to her new apartment after May 1, when the current tenants vacate the premises. She'll work full-time over the summer until school starts in late August.

She's so excited about this new chapter of her life!

Writing matters

Whew. Thank you for your patience, dear readers, as I coped with multiple writing deadlines. I was able to boot my latest Love Inspired Amish manuscript out the door at about 8 pm last night.

Meanwhile, I'd like to direct your attention to an interview I did with a lovely woman named Elise Cooper, who reviewed two of my titles: "An Amish Marriage Agreement" and "The Amish Baker's Redemption."

"An Amish Marriage Agreement" is the story that, rather surprisingly, hit the New York Times Bestseller List. "The Amish Baker's Redemption" is its better (in my opinion) sequel. Her interview can be seen here.

Writing deadlines up the whazoo

If I've been unusually quiet on the blog lately, it's because I've had writing deadlines up the whazoo. I'm finishing up a manuscript (due Monday) and have been either outlining or writing a number of articles.

Additionally, Older Daughter has had some exceptionally exciting developments in the past week. I'll be posting an update on those developments shortly.

In the meantime, sorry for the silence!

Four-legged weed-whackers

Three years ago, you may recall, we participated in a county program to reduce underbrush in wooded areas as part of fire-mitigation efforts.

The portion of our property cleared by the crews was wildly overgrown and very, very steep (this section later became our "sacrifice pasture"). The crew did a beautiful job of clearing out the underbrush. After that, we were contractually obligated to maintain the property in a cleared condition.

During this process, we mentioned to the county official that we planned to do this with livestock. She was delighted and said it's one of the best ways to maintain a cleared area.

So here we are, three years later. The other evening, we walked below the sacrifice pasture and remarked how beautifully our four-legged weed-whackers are helping in this endeavor. (That's the corner of our barn on the center-right edge of the photo.)

By contrast, there is a half-acre parcel immediately adjacent to our sacrifice pasture owned by an absentee owner. This parcel hasn't had the benefit of either the county program or livestock maintenance. As a result, his section of land is still a tangled mess of underbrush.

Fortunately, for fire mitigation purposes, this tiny parcel is literally the only overgrown area in our isolated little valley. Everyone else either has open fields and/or grazing livestock, so it all evens out.

My new favorite broccoli recipe

As many readers know, I love broccoli. I mean, I seriously love broccoli.

I've had this veggie prepared in endless ways, but Older Daughter introduced me to a method of roasting it which has become my new favorite recipe.

It starts with cutting up the heads...

...until you have enough for the meal's requirement.

To this, add olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic powder, Panko bread crumbs, and Parmesan cheese (shredded, not grated).

Add these ingredients in whatever proportions you prefer, and mix thoroughly.

Then spread the veggies on a baking sheet. Some of the mixture will have sifted to the bottom of the bowl, so spoon this over the top of the broccoli.

This particular baking sheet belongs to our toaster oven, which I use for roasting.

Set the temperature to 400F for 20 minutes.

And voilà: The best roasted broccoli I've ever had.

Bon appétit!

Wow! Eighteen BILLION!!

I received an email the other day as follows, with the subject line "Are you still alive? Please reply":

Headquarters: Valley National Bank
Address: 1455 Valley Rd, Wayne, New Jersey, United States
Phone: +1 (973) 223 6098

Congratulations! This is the third email I am sending to you. You have been randomly selected to receive US18,400,000,000 and the latest Tesla Cyber Truck from the ongoing Elon Musk raffle draw. Many people around the world have benefited from this raffle. This bank has been entrusted by Elon Musk to process and deliver your winnings to you, therefore, don't sleep on this opportunity.

Kindly provide the following information to proceed:

- Full Name
- Residential Address
- Contact Number
- Email Address
- Occupation
- Date of Birth
- ID or Driver’s License

As of March 2026, Elon Musk, the CEO and owner of Tesla, SpaceX, and Twitter, is the richest person in the world, with a net worth frequently exceeding US600–800 billion. He leads billionaires like Larry Page and Bernard Arnault by a significant margin. According to scripture, blessings are given not to encourage greed but to empower us to help others kindly and generously. Those who give with a joyful heart receive even greater blessings.

Additionally, please confirm if you have authorised Mr. Gordon Williams, an attorney claiming to be your close friend, to pay the US500.00 fee for paperwork, shipping, and customs clearance. He also claims you gave him the power of attorney to receive delivery of this money and the Tesla Cyber truck to his address.

Please respond promptly to clarify this matter.

Mr. Ira D. Robbins
CEO and President
Valley National Bank

Golly. I'd better not "sleep on this opportunity"! Think what kind of farm we could buy with this kind of money! Think how much this "blessing" would "empower" us to "help others kindly and generously"! Think how stylish we would look, driving around our dirt roads in a Tesla cyber truck! Elon Musk is certainly generous to bestow $18 billion on "randomly selected" plebeians like myself.

Pass.

Planting potatoes

I'm slowly getting various things planted in the garden, notably the cool-weather stuff that can handle spring temperatures. Last week I planted potatoes.

Unlike last year, when I planted eight beds and harvested 230 pounds of potatoes, I'm limiting our potatoes this year to just three beds. That's because we are still swimming in potatoes and don't need eight more beds' worth.

I had already layered compost on the beds from a couple weeks earlier, so all I had to do was turn it over (which takes just a couple of minutes per bed).

Lots and lots of worms, always a nice thing to see.

 

 

Now let's briefly digress to last October, when I harvested all the potatoes from last summer's garden. We ended up storing them in burlap bags in the "cool room," a small unheated room Don built off our bedroom as extra storage space.

 

We were pressed into using this space as an impromptu root cellar, and to be honest it's worked out amazingly well. In previous years, without a dedicated place to store potatoes over the winter, they were ridiculously overgrown by April – fine for planting, but not for eating.

But last year's potatoes – and remember, we still have lots – are still in excellent shape, even after six months in storage.

For planting, I brought out the burlap sack that contained the smallest potatoes, which I used as seed potatoes.

I arranged three rows of seven potatoes each, for a total of 21 potatoes per bed, or 63 total potatoes.

Using a trowel, it doesn't take long to bury each potato deeply.

That's as far as I got last week, and ever since then we've been dodging some fairly major rainstorms.

With more rain on the way, the one thing I hadn't yet done was put straw mulch on the beds.

Mulching takes no time at all.

Mr. Darcy supervised the process.

Except for a little light weeding (notably, of the volunteer wheat that will grow from the wheat-straw mulch) – and watering, of course – that's all I'll need to do to the potatoes until October, when I'll harvest them.

It's a good thing I got the mulching done when I did, since we had a dramatic bit of rain move through today.

A wedding reception

Last Saturday, I attended the reception of some friends whose 30-year-old son just got married.

I've known this young man since he was seven years old, and when I was invited to what I thought was an engagement party, I was happy to accept. But as I was chatting with the mother, I asked when the wedding was going to be. "Yesterday," she said, and chuckled.

As it turns out, the couple went to a Justice of the Peace in a nearby town (the county seat) and had a small private ceremony with just the family members present. The bride wore a tea-length casual dress. The groom wore a kilt. (The family are of Scottish descent, so everyone already owned kilts and plaids, which was the theme of both the wedding and reception.)

The reception was also small and held in a local community hall with just family and close friends invited, maybe 30 people in all. It opened with a prayer by the groom's father. There was a small buffet and tea (all made by family members), and two store-bought sheet cakes (one chocolate, one white) for guests, with a small round cake for the bride and groom to cut. No music (except a Celtic playlist softly broadcast on speakers), and no photographer except the groom's talented older sister. Afterward, all the family member pitched in to wash dishes and put the community hall to rights.

It. Was. Wonderful.

Seriously, what this couple wanted was a marriage, not a wedding. They didn't go into debt and spend thousands of dollars on an elegant wedding dress, tuxedos, cake, a DJ, a wedding photographer, catered meal, or any other of the usual trappings of a wedding and big party. Instead, they were able to have a chance to accept the congratulations of their closest friends and family members in a casual and stress-free environment. Now this young couple can look forward to building their future together without debt.

(Here's a blog post I put up a couple years ago with my take on weddings, frugal or otherwise.)

I was privileged to attend this reception. I wish this lovely young couple every happiness in their future together.

Taxes, whee!

As with almost everyone else in the nation, we filed our taxes last week. I do our taxes by hand, as I have for the past 30+ years. However these days taxes don't take nearly as long to do, since (a) we retired our woodcraft business, and (b) I lost my online job a year ago February. Less money means less taxes, right?

Last year, despite a vastly reduced income, we still had to pay quarterly taxes based on the previous year's (higher) income. We had set the necessary funds aside, so this wasn't a hardship. This year though, when we met with our tax preparer, we made sure to stress our reduced income.

In the tax preparer's office, we saw this notice of "Respectful Behavior Required."

When our tax documents were prepped and ready to sign, we weren't altogether surprised to learn we're getting a modest refund. However, we still have to pay some (reduced) quarterly taxes. But here's the ironic thing: Our quarterly taxes, added up, equal the amount of our federal and state tax returns.

Seriously, they equal out almost to the dollar. What we're getting back is almost exactly what we will owe. Therefore, everything we get back will go into the account for paying the quarterlies.

Taxes, whee!

Cotton-candy season

Around here, April is what I call "cotton-candy season" for the simple reason that the wild plum trees explode with blossoms, making the hillsides look like they're covered with bits of cotton candy.

Get the sun involved (either early in the morning or late in the afternoon), and the effect is magical.

Closer up, the trees are no less enchanting.

I took some shots of the blossoms on the plum tree in our driveway.

Then we had one day of brisk wind, and that was the end of that. Without the wind, normally the falling petals coat the roadways. This year, they were mostly whisked away in shimmering showers of white. The petals were too small to photograph during this process (I tried), so all that was left was bits of petals caught in road ruts.

Cotton-candy season doesn't last long, a week or two max (which reminds me of the line "Gather ye rose-buds while ye may" from the poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time").

Because everything is early this year due to our freaky-mild winter, I'm hoping it wasn't too early for the insect pollinators to do their job.