Ah, the homesteading bug. Last year, when I was able to put up thirty-two half pints of salsa verde and a year's worth of tomato sauce for pizza, Steve 'got it'. He finally understood what I've been trying to do. I think he got it a little more when he started brewing his own beer and growing his own hops, although the hops have not turned out to be quite the gateway plant that I was hoping them to be so that I could get him sucked into gardening as well. Maybe I should think about planting a stand of barley somewhere.
But if I had any doubts about the homesteading bug having bitten him, they were thoroughly quelled when we went down to visit his sister in the country off the Oregon coast this past weekend. I think I mentioned that he's been splitting wood for the wood stove for this winter. Lately, as we drive by homes that have large stacks of firewood outside, he drools audibly.
"Ooh, nice!" That sort of thing.
This last weekend we went to go visit one of his sister's neighbors about a half-mile away from her place, and while I was admiring his garden (there was not one hole in his cabbage and I'd like to know how he did it), Steve was off admiring Gary's stacks and stacks of firewood.
Bless his heart- he's in front of his computer now, looking for an electric chipper/shredder for my birthday.