I was tagged by Shula to explain the name of my blog. I’ll bite. There’s a good story there.
Way back when I lived in the hills of Northern California. (Land of outlaws!) My home away from home was the Paddle Ranch Music Farm; we spent many an evening on the porch, smoking cigarettes, swapping songs and stories, planning gardens and gatherings.
This was the home of two of my dearest friends, Kent of Lokoyokol, and me best gal, Amy. (one of them still lives there.) Kent was trolling for band name suggestions, and Five Gallon Bucket was put forth. I thought it was capital, but he wasn’t into it.
You see, as Joel Salatin, pastured poultry pioneer, states, “Life on the farm wouldn’t exist without the five gallon bucket.” It is ubiquitous and can be used for almost anything.
The beauty of it, and why it fits my life so well, is that the five gallon bucket is garbage, cast off, a by-product of modern life. I am a super-recycler, it is my passion in all forms, and almost everything I utilize in my craft (and in my life, excepting food) has been thrown away by someone else.
Actually, this is a limitation as well as a gift; I really am unwilling to expand my business venture in any direction that would have me reliant on purchasing large quantities of New Supply. Therefore, I am (happily) locked into one-of-a-kind, which consumes a tremendous amount of energy.
(I have been using five gallon bucket as a business name for years. It is the name of my etsy shop, which I am not supporting at present.)
Since I had the real photos out in search of that porch picture, I thought I would give you an archival kid pic.
Taken during a photoshoot here at our place, back when I had 50+ chickens, and was featured on the cover of our local cultural monthly rag.