In winter, we use the wood-fired cookstove to fix meals because it’s already running to heat the house. On sunny summer days, we use the solar cooker, which can get hot enough to burn a pie. But in spring and fall, we have to resort to the propane stove. It has an electric ignition which we disconnected because we live off the grid.
Because of the solar panels, power is abundant in summer, but during rainy weeks we charge the house batteries with the generator, which uses gasoline, which makes us feel uneasy and so we stave it off as long as possible. Lighting a burner involves lighting a match first.
‘I’ve been meaning to bring this up. We should use paper matches to light the propane stove with,’ he said. ‘They’re the minimal size for the job. I like that. Elegant.’
‘We should not,’ I said in my tactful way. ‘I’m clumsy with them and sometimes go through two or three matches before I can get one to light. And besides, they burn my fingers sometimes. Better to use wooden matches. They light the first time and so you only have to use one.’
‘So, learn how to use paper matches. It’s not so hard, and it uses fewer trees.’
‘But what about the match book covers? There are only about 20 paper matches in a book and then there’s all that paper that it’s made with.’
‘But wooden matches come in boxes. It’s not all that different.’
‘So, let’s figure out how much packaging per match there is with paper versus wooden matches.’
‘All right then,’ he said in a challenging tone. ‘Let’s.’
When we got to Barb’s place, there was a seaplane moored out on her buoy. David rowed the dinghy out and, in several trips, unloaded a family of five plus luggage. They were exhilarated from their flight and immediately folded us into their experience. In a short amount of time, they had become comfortable acquaintances.
‘Yeah,’ said the mister. ‘Flew up from California. Took us three days. The coastline is spectacular this time of year, with clouds dappling the water and the occasional buffet of wind to keep me on my toes.’
‘And plus,’ said the older boy, ‘you can see down into the water. We saw kelp and whales and stuff.’
‘They were grey whales,’ said the girl.
‘What’s to eat?’ asked the younger boy.
‘Shh. Be polite,’ said his mother.
We were feeling our way along the road because there are no street lights on our island, and there’s really no need to use a flashlight. You lose your night vision and eventually you have to figure out what to do with the spent batteries. Once you’re used to it, you can usually follow the road by looking up at the pale gap between the trees above the road, or by following the crown of the road with your feet. If you’re too hasty you might crack your nose into a tree but if you’ve got a companion and are holding hands, that’s very unlikely. ‘Go ahead and use whatever kind of matches you want,’ offered David in a fit of generosity.
Now, years later, the talk drifts to sheep as it so often does around here. If you have a swaybacked ewe and want her lambs to be straight-backed, you don’’ breed her to a hunchbacked ram, but use one with a perfect back line. You want a generous dose of steadiness, not undisciplined lurching from hither to yon and back again.
In the same way, I can’t make up for other people’s profligate use of fossil fuel by paring down to ever more flimsy matches. Metaphors have such a tendency to creep up into life and take it over. If I’m too pinched and fussy about matches, my life might pinch and fuss too. Better to aim for a sensible frugality, one which doesn’t cut corners yet allows for generosity of spirit.
Our sheep (all of them straight-backed) don’t require much. They like companionability, but not too much of it. They like grass, not the late-season tough stuff but juicy young shoots. They like a bit of water in the dry season, they like to move about a bit in the course of the day and to rotate pens every few days. They are not shy about bellowing if things go amiss, but they are not above stopping in the middle of their eternal mealtime to take in a sunset or a flight of geese overhead.
My needs are similar, with perhaps the addition of a sense of purpose, a sense of humour, and intellectual stimulation. More than that would be profligate. Today, I use wooden matches and David uses paper matches. We are at peace.
Julia Loyd is an artist and teacher
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