Living
Without Electricity
Careful planning turned
living without electricity into the basis for a pleasant way of life.
By Nancy Lamb
Five
years ago my husband (Scott) and I purchased 31 acres in the Ozarks, and
immediately started working toward the lifestyle that we had long been
fantasizing about and planning for.
We
bought our land with the full knowledge that we would be living without
electricity, unable to hook up to a power company's grid. A national wilderness
area borders us on three sides, you see, and the nearest electrical pole on the
property's accessible side is more than a mile away. Furthermore, there
are numerous vertical rock ledges and a year-round stream between our
home and that lone pole ... and we would never consider destroying the
beauty of the glades and brook with a big, cleared powerline right-of-way!
Unnecessary Conveniences
One
and a half years after our land purchase, Scott and I moved into an octagonal,
square-beamed home that we'd built ourselves ... with hand tools. And just before
that happy event, we had an electrical-appliance garage sale ... during which
we parted with our television, iron, hair dryer, toaster, blender, and various
other gadgets we've long since forgotten (and haven't missed).
Now
you probably wonder how we get along without such "conveniences."
Well, it's not complicated at all: We've replaced electricity with kerosene,
propane gas, wood, a car battery, and the heating and cooling properties of the
thermal mass in our house.
Mantle-type
Aladdin kerosene lanterns provide us with illumination for evening reading and
work, for instance. Five of these — two in the living room and three in the
kitchen — give off plenty of white light (which is also easy on our eyes when
we're doing close work). Throughout the rest of the house, standard kerosene
wick lamps produce a soothing yellow glow. Our lighting system probably isn't
any less expensive than electrical lamps would be, but it does create a
mellower atmosphere and isn't subject to the potential brownouts and
blackouts (and pricing whims) of a power company.
During
the day our many windows and two skylights provide plenty of light, since —
when we designed the house — we were careful to base the placement of the
openings on the daily and seasonal positions of the sun. The kitchen (which is
the most important room for us) stays bright and cheerful all day long as a
result of its southwestern exposure. And there isn't any problem with excessive
summer heat buildup, because our home is nestled in the trees, and their leaves
filter the sun during the intensely hot months.
Central Heating
We
heat with wood, using a fireplace with a Heatform insert built into it. Most
such "appliances" are fitted with electric fans to move the warm air,
but we simply built the fireplace in the center of the house and
installed vents on four sides of the massive rock chamber. This system directs
heat into the living room, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, and each of the
rooms in turn has a floor vent near its outside wall to return cool air to the
fireplace. (Convection keeps the home's internal atmosphere circulating.)
I should point out, too, that our fireplace's mass acts as an indirect heating and cooling system. In cold weather the rock — all 400 cubic feet of it — heats up after about the first 36 hours of continuous fire. The stone mass then remains warm to the touch all winter, and contributes to our comfort even when the fireplace is not in use. Likewise, in the summer the rock stays much cooler than the air and helps keep the inside temperature agreeable even in the dog days.
One
of our skylights is also used for cooling purposes. In the summer we open the
rooftop window every morning, and it's actually possible to feel the fresher
outside air pour in the lower half of the opening as the warmer air pushes out
through the top half. (Cool air is drawn in through the doors and lower windows
too, of course.) Such thermal conditioning doesn't cost any money ... doesn't
make any noise ... and, I'm sure, is more healthful than the conventional
electric alternative.
Kitchen Needs
For
about eight months of the year, all our cooking is done on a wood stove.
However, when the weather is too warm to allow us to comfortably fire up the
range, we use propane to operate a small two burner stove. The same gas is used
to run our water heater and our Swedish-made ammonia absorption refrigerator
... an extremely efficient unit that operates on a 600-BTU pilot light. (Our
gas bills average about $10 a month, most of which we attribute to the water
heater.)
Our
cold and hot water tanks are in a "closet" in our loft area. We
obtain H20 by lifting it — with a gas pump — up to our elevated
tanks. (All of our drinking water is boiled.) The house has complete plumbing,
which is operated by gravity flow, and our water pressure is excellent!
We
wired the house for DC current in the hope of someday producing a useful
quantity of electricity with wind or water. Right now, a car battery powers —
when we need them — two car lights that are mounted under a shelf above the
kitchen sink ... and also runs an FM car radio which we keep tucked away on the
bookshelf. The battery is "topped up" about once a week, with a
charger that we keep at a neighbor's place.
As
you may have guessed by now, the fact that we've given up most of our powered
appliances doesn't mean that we lack for kitchen tools. We find that our
hand beater, chopper, food mill, and ricer can handle most food preparation and
preservation chores. An 1890-model meat grinder (which is used to mince many
edibles other than meat) and a grain grinder also stand handily at the
counter's edge.
Such
devices may not be as fast as their electrical counterparts, but they do
get their respective jobs done! We also have an alternative garbage disposal
system that's definitely more efficient than the electrically powered
waste shredders: Our 20 Araucana and Australorp laying hens do a splendid job
of disposing of kitchen scraps and give us beautiful, orange-yolked eggs in
return.
Other Alternatives
During
the winter months I sew a lot, using my old treadle sewing machine (which I
wouldn't give up even if we had electricity). The only time I iron is
when I sew ... and I have one of those unhandy flatirons — which usually
serve only as doorstops these days — that's heated atop the stove. (It isn't a
joy to use, but it works!)
In
addition, I suppose it would be difficult to find a modern household without at
least one fancy hair dryer. However, our hair is "done" in a
very few minutes if we comb it in front of the fire or in the sunshine. In
fact, I've come to love such silent, meditative times ... in contrast to
performing the same task (usually in a frantic rush) with a noisy motor roaring
in my ear.
The
truth is that a nonelectrical house is a wonderfully quiet house.
There's no refrigerator or furnace always clicking on and off, and our evenings
are shared with a large selection of books and musical instruments, instead of
being dominated by an intrusive television set.
We
may go to a little extra trouble for our independence from the power company,
but we hope to continue to simplify our alternative methods. In the meantime,
Scott and I find a deep satisfaction in living this way ... especially when
someone says, "Gee, the power was off for hours during that last
storm!"
"Really?"
we respond. "We didn't miss it a bit!"
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