“Oh crap! Bermuda grass? In my garden space? The kind with underground runners that’s nearly impossible to eliminate except by digging up every single root and rhizome?”
For reasons I cannot fully explain I became absolutely inspired to “find a place” starting last September.
Today, my partner Evie and I are settling in to our new home. We closed on it on January 28th and it took a solid month to move things over from our former residence.
First things first, we set about correcting a decade’s worth of deferred maintenance. The furnace relay switch was quite dodgy, the gravel on the driveway was way past due for replenishment, the gutters leaked, and the apple trees were in desperate need of pruning.
Now that it’s April, I find myself every day — after my research and writing is done of course — out in the old garden space, digging new beds and turning over every square inch of the soil. Not because I want to, but because some misguided former owner thought planting Bermuda grass in the garden was a good idea.
This is the sort of grass that spreads to new horizons with meaty underground rhizomes that can spread ridiculously far from the parent plant. Arggh!
Oh, and the new chicken house, predator-proofed with hardware cloth on every possible entry point, had to be set up, too.
The list of needed improvements seem to stretch as far as the eye can see. An insurmountable pile of tasks that will be required to raise it to our high standards of creating a place of lasting beauty and abundance.
Right now? It’s a barely-dented tapestry of a thousand projects. You might be unimpressed if you took stock of all that we haven’t tackled yet.
But in a year? Or two? You’ll be mighty impressed.
And if you ask me then the how this place got to be so beautiful, I’ll tell you our secret.
By simply doing the next thing, by doing something constructive every day, by being thoughtful and forward thinking, everything eventually gets done somehow.
Simple persistence is the secret. Well, it’s my secret. I tend to just keep chugging along rather than trying to get massive things done in huge bursts.
Turning over twenty-five shovels of dirt every day is vastly easier than setting aside a half a Saturday to turn over 175 shovels full.
Here we all are in a pandemic, that is going to require lots and lots of persistence. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. Things will never be ‘the same’ again. In some respects, good riddance. In other cases, we can mourn what we lost. Both are valid.
One battle we must all wage is staying on point, focused on the many new things that need doing, without growing weary of the tasks, wishing for a return to the past.
My job, my commitment to you and to my subscribers, is to stay focused on the bigger world, digging through the science and the news to bring you actionable information weeks if not months before the media and other cultural gatekeeper have caught on to it.
For whatever reason, I am built for that task and I have an enormous capacity for it, and a persistence to match. Just as I can assure you every single blade and rhizome of the Bermuda grass in our garden space will be gone at some point in the future, I’ll keep reading and scouring the news that might help you navigate this brand new, and very tricky period of time.
A Coming Food Crisis?
I’ve been telling people to “plant a garden” in my daily videos. There’s a specific sound reason for this.
You may have heard about the lack of workers to plant and harvest veggies, and we’ve read about the shuttering of meat packing plants.
But are you also aware of the ominous rumblings of an increasing number of nations making preparations for the possible loss of food imports? National ‘food hoarding’ is popping up on my radar screen.
This is why I released a warning to PeakProsperity.com’s premium subscribers last night, in my report The Next Brewing Crisis.
As I look around my new property and its good bones for food production, I’m stunned that we managed to make it here in the nick of time, driven and guided by some force I can’t quite explain.
I encourage you to use the time we have now to similarly work on increasing your own food supply resilience. Plant a garden. Join a CSA. Deepen your pantry. Even relocate if you must.
Sometimes, I find information that is best kept behind a paywall, and out of wider public view. Sometimes it’s not quite ready for prime time but might still be useful. Sometimes it’s an incendiary subject that our detractors would be only too happy to take out of context and use against us. Sometimes it might spawn a conversation also best left out of the reach of internet trolls and other unhelpful eyes.
This is such a time. Read The Next Brewing Crisis if you haven’t already