It’s the typical story – met a girl, fell in love, got talked into buying a 17 acre homestead all set up with a large blackberry patch (500lbs of blackberries a year!), chicken coops, greenhouses, and pasture land…
This happens to everyone, right?
Over the past couple of years Leah has been easing me in. First we started buying raw milk and making keifer. We were proud of how self-sufficient we could be – like keifer pioneers! That stuff will kill you if you don’t do it right, so the very fact that we were still alive indicated how successful we were at this…we were very proud of ourselves 🙂
Then came the horses.
“OH honey, just one…he’ll be amazing!”
We lived in a rented house in a tiny neighborhood with an HOA. So we had to stable him nearby. My wallet felt thinner but Leah was happy.
Until she discovered…Halflingers.
So horse #2 came into our lives.
With rent and stable fees, it started to seem silly to continue living a divided life – part time at home and part time out with “the boys.”
Leah knew I was a secret softie for animals and kept showing me cute pictures of chickens, and goats, and bunnies. Enter “Buns” our new house bunny.
It was clear we needed to act fast and find a place for our expanding household.
Leah, ever vigilant when she has her heart set on something, secretly started watching all the real estate sites and set up alerts with a realtor friend. She would spend long hours each day pouring over listings trying to find just the right place.
And when a house came up for sale on the same street as our horse stable, we jumped at the chance to check it out.
No, we didn’t buy that one but within 3 weeks we’d found our picture perfect place and had our offer accepted.
Leah knew she just had to get me moving in the right direction and once I was swept up in the house hunt, it didn’t take long to start making plans.
“Homesteading” wasn’t my dream but I loved the country and I loved walking in nature. I fell in love with the land immediately and it ticked almost every box on our “dream property” list. It had 4 bedrooms, a separate building for my office, a barn, fenced areas for the animals, multiple chicken coops, fruit trees, and greenhouses. And, it was partially wooded with trails (my dream!). Plus it had space for us to expand and either create an intentional community, a retreat center, AIRBNB, or all of the above.
We were stoked.
And my wallet was too because it was well below our budget 🙂
Our notoriously cranky 14 year old even got on board with the idea.
It was a miracle.
Suddenly we were on the fast track to becoming homesteaders and owning land that would produce more than enough for our family. We dreamed of a little farm stand and weekly community dinners where we’d invite like-minded people to our farm. Perhaps we’d host yoga retreats and campouts. Or build yurts to rent out for the weekend. There were so many possibilities our heads were spinning with ideas.
And with every idea, we had to do research.
Of course I say, “we” but with my demanding job and lack of interest in many of the plant and animal dreams that Leah had, she was the main research machine – a job she loved.
My days were filled with, “I’m thinking of ordering Silkie chickens and maybe some Polish whatever’s (she told me the name I just didn’t listen) and of course we’ll need some Guinea hens but I also want…” and “do you think 52 seed packets are enough or too many or too little?” and “I was thinking we need at least two goats and this woman has them for sale for…” and “we need a livestock dog, should we get and Anatolian or a…” and on and on.
And she signed me up for a beekeeping class.
Yeah, a beekeeping class.
Did I express interest in beekeeping?
Do I have time to be a beekeeper?
Do we even need bees?
It didn’t matter. We were homesteading and honey would be useful and possibly profitable but we would only know if I went to the class and learned more.
I asked, “Can’t you go?”
“No, I’m probably allergic to bees. The class is Saturday. You like learning stuff so just check it out and see if it’s something we want to do.”
Again the “we” except this time, the “we” was “me.”
At this point I realized I was on a fast moving train and I had to either sit down and enjoy the ride or jump off and hope to God I don’t die when I hit the ground. It seemed safer to sit down and try not to panic.
