Living Off the Grid: Summing up

So what was it like, actually, living off the grid? In some ways, a bit of a pain. See, you had to be conscious of how much hot water you used, how much electricity. And this meant being aware of the weather. It brought an awareness of dependence on the elements.

And I'd say neither of the above is a bad thing.

On the other hand, living off the grid brought a sense of freedom. The atmosphere seemed purer, as if there was something gentle, more peaceful about it. (Did I mention non-exploitative?) Also quiet, inside and out, seeing as a gas fridge makes only a little noise.

We lived with the sound of the occasional passing car or truck, the occasional chain saw cutting down a tree; and the song of the birds, mainly the tui (yes, that's what their call sounds like) and the pesky pheasants -- non-indigenous and destructive to plants, especially veggie gardens. At night we heard the morepork, the small New Zealand owl named for its call.

This is probably my last Kiwi post, so I'll finish off with a kind of silly poem. I hope you'll enjoy it. You can check the photo in my previous post to get the location reference, and look below for a photo.

"You'll find the secateurs in the shed," she said,

the abundance and peripheral variety of blooms having given me a yen

to make a vase --

not really an arrangement

tho. Something more in the modern style.

I wandered around the cavernous space,

looking on tool shelves, and counters and hooks,

unseeing of secateurs  until...

aha! I spied a white-handled pair,

some rusty-looking snips

with pointy tips

right there

waiting on the counter.

The spring was somewhat stiff

but still

those scissors cut the soft-stemmed calla lilies

white and green

that I wanted for my vase.

My floristry was interrupted

by other tasks.

So I set the scissors aside in the kitchen

for later.

And later Kate said,

"Mum, those are for cutting goat toe-nails!"

(I should have noted the shape of the blades and maybe remembered their long-gone goats!)