Julie here with this week’s article. As with just about every weekly update you get from us, I will be writing about how the weather is affecting our lives. This week has been particularly variant with regards to what to expect when stepping outside; earlier this week, we were blessed with yet another thick blanketed snowstorm. I rejoiced not because we then needed to postpone early plantings, but because I revel in random snowball peltings that come from as far as two houses away. I was visiting with my friend Rae, when we were accosted by an army of relentless snowball-wielding friends of ours who weren’t content with simply taking prisoners of the storm. Spontaneous and laughter-filled acts of snow-war are something to behold in my world.
I often find that my mood and perspective mirror my contentment with the current weather conditions. Prior to the snowstorm, there was a palpably subdued emotional climate that was present for many of us. Despite the prolonged sugaring season, we pined for the sweet relief of soil between our fingers, the fresh smell of earth, and the nestling of our seedlings into their permanent homes. I welcome winter’s last stand, but the temperature increases later in the week met gardeners in all corners of the village moving top soil, erecting trellises, establishing new garden beds, and fashioning garden fences. Hopeful honey bees are abundantly buzzing, the red winged black birds and robins have cheerfully returned, and the long-awaited chorus frogs and peepers are well on their way to another productive year. This is all leading up to what is by far my favorite time of year; it’s hard to not feel hopeful on the first 60 degree day after months of hibernation, and even harder to turn away from the smiling faces of everyone I meet. I am a Spring girl through and through.
I unfortunately can’t give you as thorough of an update of what is happening in the village as I would like, as I have been working on my house in an effort to complete a refinishing project before the weather gets much nicer. Here at Dancing Rabbit, we often try unconventional methods for meeting modern needs that are sometimes met with success, and other times, with failure. Right now I am removing, re-leveling, and replacing my kitchen counter-top that previously had an earthen installation that didn’t perform as I had hoped. It was installed before I purchased the house I live in, and has been something that I’ve wanted to improve upon for some time. The kitchenette in my house has quite a few quirks that I’ve been able fix relatively easily, but this has been an item that has been on my to-do list this winter, and has taken time away from community activities that I’d be otherwise have been able to devote. The product of a pioneering mentality is that sometimes you fail, and need to invest additional time, energy, and resources in order to remediate the mistake that you (or others) have made, despite your (and their) best intentions. It sometimes is impossible to discern whether or not you are making the best choice when all you have is your own hopeful idealism to guide you, especially when you are embarking into uncharted territory. All we can do is hope that we are making the best choices, despite our inexperience with whatever project we are taking on. This project’s saving grace is that I am often enjoying the learning process through remediating someone else’s mistake, despite the knowledge that additional product research would have been the wisest path.
Saturday night there was a small get-together that ended up in our machine shed, a huge 100×40 structure that houses our tractor, cars, and building materials. There was a nice dance-floor sized area that was cleared earlier in the day, so naturally we brought picnic tables and benches in there to prepare for a dance-party. Our clothing donations room is adjacent to where we were dancing, and Thomas had the brilliant idea of a costume change—so we donned ourselves with outfits that combined items such as stuffed animals, an offensively bright green girl-scout vest, and Japanese fans. I can’t even imagine what Jennifer and Toon thought as they pulled up to park the car at midnight, only to find us in there in such bizarre attire.
This Sunday brought the once yearly visit of Ostrich-tron. Instead of the Easter Bunny visiting the kids, we have an amalgamous mass of a character clothed in blankets that makes cooing noises as it takes stones or rocks in exchange for healthy snacks such as dried fruit and nuts. Ostrich-tron arrives via a time-space portal from a distant galaxy. The swaying and squawking of this creature had us in hysterics, and I suspect that I enjoyed the performance as much as the kids, possibly even more.
Sugaring season is finally at a close, and with a sap total of 1083 gallons—over 4 tons of sap (all collected in 5 gallon buckets)—we’re pretty proud of ourselves! Removing the taps and buckets today was bittersweet: we don’t want it to end, but at the same time we probably can’t handle much more than the roughly 21 gallons of syrup that will be proudly displayed on our kitchen shelves. Folks who have been here for many years say that this is a new record for DR, and I sense that I will be telling stories, years down the line, about the legendary sugaring season of 2013.
Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage is an intentional community of more than 60 members in Rutledge, northeast Missouri, practicing ecologically sustainable living. If you want a more in-depth experience of life here at Dancing Rabbit or are interested in the possibility of membership, consider applying for a session in our 2013 Visitor Program. The first session starts in April and you can find more details on our website at www.dancingrabbit.org/visit-dancing-rabbit-ecovillage/visitor-program/. We offer free tours to the public on the second and fourth Saturday from April-October, with April 13th being our next tour date. For more information you can visit our website www.dancingrabbit.org, read our blog The March Hare at blog.dancingrabbit.org, or give us a call at(660) 883-5511.