When I was young, I remember milking our family cow early in the morning in January, cold was an understatement. I had milksickles hanging from my pinkies (I was wearing gloves at least…). I distinctly remember thinking “I hate this place and when I am old, I will only live warm places.” That’s why I joined the Navy rather than any of the other service, the Navy is in more temperate climates than the rest of them by and large. Since I joined the Navy I’ve been north of the Mason-Dixon Line for a total of two days. I don’t regret that for a minute.
Now I am Old, rather, I’m nearly 1 standard deviation from what my expected middle age will be as a white male in America. This last week my parents were approached by an older family friend. They have an organic 120 acre farm near where I grew up. They told my parents they would sell it for a song to someone like me if I would work the land. Now I’m in flux. I hate cold, but love to farm, organic farming, and that would seriously expedite quitting life for me and my wife. At age 30 I could functionally walk off grid and say good bye to working for mortgages and school loans. I could disappear into annonymity. All that said, we’re seriously considering it. This summer we’ll take a 3 day trip up there to see it. And may not return.
Posts Tagged With: navy
Home sweet Michigan
Down on the Bayou
I once lived on a swamp, like, I was Shrek. I had a swamp house, which I would get flooded out of when the swamp rose, a swamp cat with no tail, and would do things like swamp log. I did this while in flight school for the Navy. Probably not the best choice (better would have been to focus entirely on my studies, but that’s for lame folks, like my roommate, who’s an awesome pilot still…), but pretty awesome none the less.
I came across the idea while watching the guys on Discovery’s Swamp People. That, like the time I traded up and became the proud owner of a bearskin rug (more on that later), started with a “hell, if they can do it, I can do it!”. So I commandeered a rig from the redneck down the road, and started “swamp logging”. In reality, my roommate (also a great pilot, but more worldly and now flies helos) and I would drink cheap beer and float around the swamp pulling old sticks up.
This is us being tough loggers. With, in retrospect, a water soaked, second growth cypress sapling that someone had cut down. We were pretty awesome.
This is me on the “wobbly log” rig I commandeered from a redneck. It was really just a very unstable raft made from 2 large propane tanks. I’m pretty sure they weren’t completely empty as well. That’s redneck ingenuity though!
Here are a couple of our sticks:
I wasn’t able to sell them, and ended up using them for logs to sit on around the fire. They eventually floated away with the next big flood.
Towards the end of my time there, I did find one of the swamp logs. It wasn’t large, probably only 2′ in diameter, but was amazing to look at. The bottom end had been hand cut, and you could still see the maker’s cut in the side. I ended up giving it to some furniture making friends in Michigan who turned it into a beautiful cedar chest.
Ultimately, this wasn’t much of a life hack financially, but is extremely valuable to me in the story I can tell. I ended up out the cost of the beer, but came away with great memories, and some interesting photos. I think in this journey we’re working through, it’s important to remember that finances are not the end all be all. The friends we make, the experiences we share with them, and the memories we take away will long outlast the finances. Don’t lose sight of the forest for the trees.
We Quit Life 