Living Off the Land

Education, Environment, Evolution, and Error

“We used to be some of the fittest and strongest people, until we were stripped of our heritage, which is living off the land.” ~Shelbert Chasing Crow, Cheyenne

The lives of my grandparents began in the wilds of Appalachia. They had over a dozen children, and, in their early years, life for them wasn’t much different from the days of Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. As young marrieds, they dwelt in a tiny post-and-beam cabin and lived off the land. My grandfather would hunt by day, fish, or pick berries, and, for dinner, bring home squirrel, rabbit, river trout, sun perch, catfish, or whatever else he could find.

Near the cabin was an old gnarled apple tree (the best kind for fruit-bearing), and, in season, my grandmother pared and cooked apples every morning for breakfast, along with biscuits, gravy, eggs, and country fried chicken. By day she kept a pot of dried beans (navy, pinto, lima, black-eyed peas) simmering on the back of the old wood stove, shelled peas, strung green beans (seasoned with saltpork or a hambone, if she was lucky), shucked corn, peeled potatoes, and topped off the evening meal with a pan of fresh cornbread. In summer she planted a vegetable garden, and, at harvest, canned produce. My grandfather occasionally earned money as a carpenter or traded junk for profit. Though my grandparents went on to bigger and better things, this was their beginning.

My dad also liked to hunt small game (squirrel, rabbit, grouse, turkey, pheasant) and mountain plants (wild greens, mushrooms, berries, sassafras), which my mother would prepare for his dinner.

Even my husband—at heart a fisherman—killed squirrel. He’d clean it, I’d fry it, and he’d eat it. I myself never ate squirrel or rabbit. Or even chickens or pigs I’d known personally.

Just the other night I was standing in line for a meal at a senior gathering; and, when they saw the chicken being served, a couple of old geezers began talking about eating squirrel. “What does it taste like?” someone asked. “Chicken.” And they laughed.

Even if you don’t eat squirrel, and you don’t want squirrel, I still believe a citizen in this country ought to have the right to kill and eat squirrel if he wants to. And no law should come between him and living off his own land, if that’s what he wants. He pays property taxes on that land (almost at the point of extortion), and authorities retain the right to seize it if he doesn’t pay those taxes, but you just let him try to do what he wants to do on his own property!

What has America come to!

There is a serious problem in this country, directly attributable to a Marxist UN and brainwashed environmentalists (evolutionists): they think animals (species) are in the process of becoming human beings, will eventually turn into human beings, and, therefore, should have equal rights with current human beings, who themselves used to be animals and who should, therefore, be more considerate of life forms still in the process of becoming. Consequently, in some parts of this heathen land some squirrels are now sacrosanct; ie, they are a protected life form, and you cannot kill them if you want to, much less eat them.

This is ridiculous!

It also shows that evolution—never a science—is more than a philosophy or an ideology. It is a religion that reaches deep into our educational, legislative, and judicial systems.

Do you know what squirrels are? Vermin. That is what they are.

“A squirrel is just a rat with a cuter outfit.” ~Sarah Jessica Parker

A beautiful little multicolored woodpecker, for instance, comes along and drills a hole in the side of a stately wood frame house. Then a naughty little squirrel, with a big bushy tail and a certain statuesque physique, that nonperceptive photographers find photogenic, happens by. He tiptoes across the roof, and down the side of the building, and, like a crafty opportunist, takes advantage. He finds that tiny woodpecker hole, gnaws a bigger hole, and keeps gnawing, until that hole is big enough for him to crawl into. Then he gets inside that house and sets up housekeeping. He makes confetti of the insulation, bores through the drywall, gnaws the electrical wiring or anything else he can sink his rodent teeth into, and essentially vandalizes the place. Usually the crawl space beneath the main floor or the wall behind the kitchen sink.

So what does the homeowner do? Well, of course, if he could get his hands on that rascal, he wouldn’t be having him for dinner! No, sireee! He’d be throwing him to the wolves. Or the dogs. Along with his nest of newborns—pardon, her nest. How dare that vermin come into this house and multiply!

There is a little problem, however, and that is the law. Inspired by Marxists and evolutionists. The law says a homeowner can call the local agriculture office or animal control, to trap the misguided creature; and if he’s caught, they may transport him miles and miles away, so, hopefully, he’ll be so disoriented he won’t be able to find that particular house again—though that won’t keep him out of another homeowner’s house—but under no circumstances may he be killed. Offed. By the homeowner or by authorities. Because he is protected.

The homeowner (the higher life form) is not protected. The vermin (supposedly still in the process of becoming) is protected.

Where is the sanity in such a law? Where is the science in such reasoning?

This is ignorance gone to seed!*

God made the earth and everything in it (Genesis 1:1, et al). God governs the earth, and cares for it (Matthew 10:29-31) so we don’t have to. “God has established His throne in heaven, and His kingdom rules over all” (Psalm 103:19). I don’t have to protect the squirrels; God will see to them.

“At the approach of spring the red squirrels got under my house, two at a time, directly under my feet as I sat reading or writing, and kept up the queerest chuckling and chirruping and vocal pirouetting and gurgling sounds that ever were heard; and when I stamped, they only chirruped the louder, as if past all fear and respect in their mad pranks, defying humanity to stop them.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Copyright © 2015 Alexandra Lee

Photo Credit

*If you don’t know what “ignorance gone to seed” means, then you have never saved seed or grown a garden, and don’t know the difference between seed corn and edible corn. Fresh corn is tender, sweet, and juicy (you can shuck and eat it, uncooked, right there in the field); seed corn is dry, hard, and lifeless. The last of the harvest is left in the fallow field or saved as seed for next year’s crop. When that seed is planted, it will multiply and produce next year’s harvest.

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About Christseekerk

Minister, Editor, Writer, Senior Citizen, Grown Children, Grandchildren. Interests travel, writing, reading, walking, golf.
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