Old Friends - Haidi and Hannah
A few weeks ago, I called an old friend who happens to live in this area. She was, in fact, my best friend for most of my teenage years. We both lived in the Yukon, although about 300 miles apart. We only saw each other a couple of times a year, but in between, wrote enormous letters about everything. Epistles. I think my record was 26 pages. We went our separate ways towards the end of high school, and sort of lost touch.
We visited last year, when we were in the area, and found we picked up where we left off. Although we had both grown and changed, we still understood each other. She is now married, and with her husband, Bruce, and five children, ages 10 to 2, lives on 160 acre farm in Buick Creek, about an hour and fifteen minutes from here. We spent the day drinking tea, cooking together, and talking gardens. Nick and Bruce talked about building, solar energy, and drank lots of French press coffee.
When I called Hannah a few weeks back to see if we could give them a hand with harvesting, I found out that they were moving in a month to Ohio, where Bruce grew up and his family still lives. Last year the spring was so cold that only about 1/4th of Bruce’s wheat crop sprouted. Both farmers, they want to live where they can grow more variety. I was sad to hear the news, but Hannah said she would put aside some vegetables for me and we set a date for a visit. Last Sunday, we drove out to Buick Creek to spend the day. Hannah and Bruce are hardcore homesteaders in a way that Nick and I will never have the guts to be, but it still inspiring. They built their home using wood harvested from their property which Bruce milled himself, using a small sawmill which he is taking with him to Ohio, and he plans to do the same thing there. Their house runs on solar power almost completely, with a generator for backup in the winter. They grow or raise almost all their own food. We sat down to a supper of roast chicken, potatoes, and carrots, caesar salad, and rhubarb/raspberry juice. I commented that with the exception of the dressing on the salad, they had grown everything on the table. Hannah said that most of their meals are like that; they don’t even think about it any more.
After lunch, the kids disappeared outside and were not seen again for three hours. I could hear the occasional whoop from a windrow in some small poplars, so at least we knew their location. Hannah and I walked her garden and did some gleaning. Despite several hard frosts, she still had romaine lettuce growing, and the greenest spinach you ever saw. I picked brussel sprouts, cabbages, and a sackful of beets as well. She had mostly cleaned out her huge greenhouse, but we still found a tubful of tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, zucchini, and one green pepper. Nick and Bruce loaded up four sacks of potatoes and two of carrots. I was thrilled to find her electric grain grinder was for sale, so we loaded that as well, and she gave me four bushels of wheat to go with it. (A bushel is sixty pounds). They were so incredibly generous.
About teatime, we checked on the kids. They had built an amazing fort in the windrow, and only the promise of the carrot cake I had brought lured them away from their play. After tea and cake, no one was hungry for supper, so we visited some more, had story time with the children, and didn’t eat till after seven. By this time, we had learned that Bruce had a pig for sale, and was willing to teach us how to butcher it. How could we refuse? The only catch? The only day they could do it was on Wednesday – and we were leaving on Friday to spend Thanksgiving with our family in Smithers, about 10 hours away. Still, we couldn’t pass up that great opportunity, so yesterday, we again visited Hannah and Bruce. In our next blog: butchering a pig – not as simple as it seems.
Lyra and Marley learning the ropes from Nathan, David, and Alex Kimble
