Alaska Bush life : Winter Spit Baths; No Shower

On May 30, I took my first shower in 3 ½ months. (That's how long it had been since a trip to Anchorage, waiting for the ice to thaw enough along the lake shore to insert a lake pump).

Do you know how difficult it is to wash long hair standing up in front of the kitchen sink, pouring small pots of snow melt water warmed on the wood stove over one's hair? My hair never felt clean; just dirty or soapy, so I never looked in a mirror all winter to check out the results. (I probably looked like the Bride of Frankenstein). Furthermore, can you imagine how LOW the motivation is to undertake this l-o-n-g and c-o-l-d process in a dark and cold cabin?  From our effortful experience, I totally understand why old timers bathed only on Saturday nights and I absolutely pity those poor mining camp hookers.

I figure that my husband can have a wife who has clean hair, shaves her legs, and wears high heels, OR he can have an unkempt wife willing to live in the boonies with no running water all winter, but he can't have both at the same time. So neither of us shaved for 3 ½ months. My joke was that the leg hair was so long I could have told wind direction IF I had pulled my pants legs up, but who would do that in an Alaskan winter when I routinely wore two layers of socks INSIDE the cabin. When I finally did shave in that blessed shower, the drain pan looked like some poor poodle had drowned and was circling the drain. Did I care? Oh no! I lingered under that fantastic invention called a shower head, appreciating that other noble device called an on-demand heater, just daring our 55 gallon drum of shower water to dribble to an end before I was finished.

In such a setting, it feels downright decadent to take a shower every single day. Dirty? Shower. Hot? Shower. Bored? Long shower. Because the mosquitoes are at their hungriest and most aggressive in June, we keep a smoky fire burning in the front fire pit, stunning the pesky creatures into welcome lethargy. As a result, we smell like firemen and scratch like a pair of primates. Guess what. Shower. I'll drain the entire lake. It is better than penicillin for fixing what ails me... until the lake freezes again in October.

Raising Meat Rabbits in Alaska

We raise rabbits both for meat and manure for the gardens (and they eat vegetable scraps). Although I embraced the practicality of this, the practice of being so practical has been hard! After all, both my sisters have raised rabbits as pets and we all shared one as kids (named Thumper, of course).

In fact, I wonder if the reason that Americans and the English seem more squeamish about raising/serving rabbits for dinner than the French and Italians is because we all grew up with Beatrix Potter's bunnies and Disney's intrepid Thumper in “Bambi.”

Below is information about my experience with them,as pets and as fodder, labeled by category for easy skimming.

Raising Chickens in Alaska for Food, Yard Work, and Companionship

We raise chickens for breakfast (eggs) and rabbits for, well, dinner.  The latter is harder because rabbits are so darn cute and it is poor protocol to use such adjectives about future stew.  You never see “cute” on a restaurant menu, do you?

I recommend both animals for pets, and although my husband would prefer that I regard the animals merely as food producers, I must confess that I treat the chickens somewhat as pets and I am endeavoring not to do the same with the rabbits.  This article is about raising chickens.  A following article is about raising rabbits.

Our coop and run, with bear wire fence post

Our chickens live in an insulated green and white, 4x6 coop attached to a 4x10 roofed run, located in the lower meadow visible from our cabin.  (Both are padded by straw that we harvest in the summer.)  Together, the structures remind me of a little old fashioned train car and caboose, awaiting an engine to cart them away. To keep the water from freezing and to power a small heat lamp inside during the winter, my husband ran electric line (powered by our solar panels and wind turbines) to the buildings.  We also have a solar powered electric fence around the coop to deter hungry bears (in summer) and wayward moose, although, to our knowledge, that has not been tested yet, even though we have seen bears and moose in the yard.  The coop is elevated about 6 inches, which provides the chickens with a shady nook.

Sometimes they take naps under there and the other day, I swear, I heard one of them snoring.  The space also provides an accessible hiding place from flying predators, like eagles and owls.  ( In Alaska, we don’t have to worry about snakes or rats). Unfortunately, though,they are vulnerable to other animals.  A wily weasel dug under the run last year and killed half our flock.  Subsequently, Bryan dug down about a foot on all sides of the run and inserted a below ground “fence” of roofing metal.  We hope that will foil future attempts.   

Easy, Inexpensive Window Sill Gardening

With a minimal investment of time (1 -2 month), space (4 inches wide), and money ($25), beginning gardeners can enjoy rapid results by planting seeds in an indoor window sill garden.    

On my 4 inch wide window sills of two, four foot (double paned) windows that face south, I fit six plastic six- pack planters each (twelve packs total, 72 plant holes). Starting March 10 (still winter here - it snowed until May 3), I planted the seeds of a variety of herbs, flowers, and vegetables. My expectations were low because the setting wasn’t the greatest – the window doesn’t offer full sun all day (because of spruce and birch trees) and the temperature inside our log cabin varies from a low of 53 at night to a high of 69 during the day, and the temperatures just beyond the window were below freezing every night. 

May 3, 2013 snow fall in front of the shower house

Of the 21 plants I started indoors, below are my notes on the fastest, easiest and most robust ones that grew on my window sill from March 10 through May 5 (today), during one of the coldest Aprils in Alaskan history. Since they did so well for me, I hope the results inspire readers to try seedlings on window sills of their homes, classrooms, or perhaps, offices or hospital rooms.    

  

Appreciate Where You Are: Rural Alaska or the Big City

(the following article was recently published at  http://uuministryforearth.org/reflections ) 

One night, while preparing a labor-intensive risotto for dinner in our Houston high-rise, my husband ambled into the kitchen and asked, with studied casualness, “Honey, if I could buy a piece of undeveloped land in Alaska, under market value, would that be OK with you?” Who knew that five years later, we would be living full time in a two room log cabin with an outhouse, forty-two miles from the nearest road, having sold our high-rise and given away most of our belongings. 

March view from front porch

Obviously there are a number of “why?” and “how?” and “why?” again, questions raised by that paragraph.  Here, I'd like to focus on three things I appreciate more because of these changes but also things I appreciate about the city I left. But first, the setting: