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7:58 a.m.  We were packed, in the car, coffee in hand, ready to go.  I wanted to make sure we left by 8:00 since we had a 12 hour drive ahead of us.  We could take our time and sight-see a little and still be in bed on time once we got to the hotel.  If only things actually go according to plan, right?  We left on time, and we made good time through Kentucky.  Then everything slowed down.  We were on our way to the Homesteaders of America’s first conference in Warrenton, VA.  I can honestly say there isn’t much that I have been more excited to attend.  I bought us tickets when they were released, maybe as long ago as January.  I booked our hotel months out from the event.  We spent a week fortifying the chicken coop and yard so they could have access to outside 24/7 while we were gone but still be safe.  I looked up restaurants in the area so when we sailed into Warrenton Friday night we could go enjoy a meal and ease into our weekend.

Between work stress, knife work for my hubby stress, and the farm stress, the weeks leading up to this long awaited event were so mind-numbingly exhausting and trying.  We had so many things we needed to do to get the property more secured for the three days we would be gone.  And of course, we had to clean and get ourselves ready for a pretty good hike.  That meant that in between catching up laundry, making sure dishes were clean so the house didn’t stink when we got home, and packing, the pigs escaped.  The ducks couldn’t figure out the new way to get in and out of the coop.  The rabbit enclosure started to collapse.  More than once I sat down in a huff like a toddler and nearly in tears, proclaimed “we just aren’t going”.  My parents came out on a Saturday in the pouring rain and helped my husband fortify the fencing on the hog yard.  I was stuck at work, hearing second hand about how everything was going wrong right before we were going to be 808 miles away.

The night before we left, we spent the entire evening getting food ready for travel snacks, packing and unpacking the suitcase and trying to decide the best route to take.  The drive was easy, just really long.  I wasn’t prepared for the mountains in West Virginia.  My poor little car wasn’t either.  She did her best, but it was a chore to get up those hills.  Even taking into account the time change, we didn’t roll into the hotel until 15 hours later.  Despite the exhaustion from the drive, the excitement for the conference the next day meant I didn’t sleep well or much.

We got to the check-in early the next morning, just a few minutes after they were opening up the grounds for the conference goers.  That meant we were one of the first 100 who got a tote from Fluffy Layers.  That started what was to be an incredible day off right for this chicken obsessed girl.


I have been trying to decide the best way to articulate the Homesteaders of America conference all week.  And honestly, there is so much to say and I am poor enough of a writer that putting into words the whole day is challenging for me.  They estimated somewhere around 1,300-1,500 people attended, with many bringing their children.  There were vendors, demonstrations and seminars spanning the entire available space at the Fauquier County Fairgrounds.  Overwhelmed is an adjective that comes to mind immediately.  But in such a good way.  We met so many people, so many likeminded people.  Later when I was trying to describe it to my husband, I said I felt like we found our people.  What made that sentiment all the more applicable was that only moments later, Joel Salatin would take the main stage to speak to a standing room only crowd.  And he said we found our tribe.  In many things in life, those of us who choose to homestead, who choose to grow and raise our own food, to make do instead of buy new, who choose a life full of simplicity that is in fact hard and not at all simplistic, we are the weirdos.  We are the folks that others frequently ask, “why?”  But man, did we ever find our tribe.  I feel that I behaved quite well, since one of the things my sweet husband asked before we went was, are you going to fangirl when you get to meet Joel?  Or Doug and Stacy?  Nah, I got this.  Omg omg omg omg!!!

We talked to so many people we had just met, and it felt like we were meeting up with old friends.  We talked to folks about pigs, rabbits, sheep, chickens (obviously), tools, blacksmithing, canning, gardening, mushrooms; we exchanged ideas and inspiration.  We learned and planned ways to improve and expand our own homestead in the coming months.  And everyone around us was doing the same.  Children that had never met were playing and making new friends.  Even the police tasked with keeping a rowdy crowd of homesteaders safe commented to the organizers they had never had a group that large behave that well.  I guess that’s what happens when you find other people so like you.


I have to admit that leading up to the conference, I was getting a little bogged down with the stress of everything.  Homesteading is hard, especially when you have two full time jobs, one of which keeps you far from home half the week.  Leaving the conference that evening after a full day of so many cool things, my heart felt so light.  My head was swimming with inspiration and ideas.  And I have a renewed confidence in what we are doing.  The day after we got home from the conference, we had to butcher our two pigs.  They were 100 pounds past where we wanted them, it was time.  I knew I needed to help but I had absolutely not prepared.  At all.  Think walking into a chemistry test without going to class.  Ever.  That’s kind of how I felt.  Today is day 4 of processing our first two hogs we have ever raised.  We haven’t slowed down, working 10-11 hours a day to get this meat packaged and sorted.  The pig butchery tale is one for another day and another blog or two, but when it was time for me to step up and start working on one of the pigs, I had confidence that with some real time instruction from my husband and the demo we attended at the conference about hog butchery, I was able to dive in and do the work.

Lard canning

I commented the other day that I will need a vacation from my vacation, but really, despite being sore in places I didn’t even realize I had muscles, I feel better than I have in a while.  There is something to be said for touching base with your tribe from time to time, and with that in mind, we are already planning on attending the conference next year.  And hopefully I will be able to keep in touch with the people we met and talked to at the conference.  I could sit and talk for days about everything that we got to see, but there’s broth that needs to be canned and salsa to put up.  Check in with me later, there will be more to talk about.



Plugged In, Tuned Out

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We have been so plugged in this week. On social media, watching YouTube videos, texting, TV on, you get the idea. We tend to strike a decent balance between not remembering where we set down our electronic devices and keeping up with the digital world. And my husband and I both recognize that the weeks that we spend less time in front of a screen, the better we feel. The content and context of the screen time is relevant, but so often, when we are trying to find something specific, like a recipe or a video tutorial, we end up in the bottomless scroll. You know exactly what I’m talking about, because even if you haven’t personally experienced it, a family member has in your presence. We tell ourselves, “I will just check this really quickly, and once I get to the bottom of the page, I will go do something productive.” Except the social media gurus know that’s what you are going to do, and if you leave their page, you can’t see the ads they are getting paid so well to display, so they design their sites to be always updating, and never ending. In a time when our collective attention span rivals that of the goldfish for shortness, the minds that brought you the timeline and live videos also made sure that there is always new content on their pages. Don’t leave! What if you miss something? That’s how you sit down to update your profile with a picture of your super healthy and delicious breakfast, and look up to find out you’ve been scrolling for approximately 2 years, 5 months and a week. Quick, take a selfie and document the moment.

Pig nose

We are all guilty of this. We live in a plugged in world. High school and college classes and projects/assignments are online, businesses conduct meetings with members around the globe onscreen, online searches take minutes to find data to support your Facebook argument, or find a recipe that is on that new diet you’re following. And most importantly, we have access to a constant barrage of advertisements letting us know exactly what is missing from our lives. What I tend to forget frequently is how detrimental being this plugged in is for me. My brain doesn’t like it, and my mood really takes a hit when I spend a lot of time online. I promise I get the irony of talking about being online as a negative as I sit typing a blog on my laptop. The point is more that I have to work to remind myself that going outside or working in my kitchen is going to bring me longer lasting enjoyment than scrolling through my feed. I like seeing people’s pictures, especially of kittens and food, but man does it make my brain turn to mush when I get sucked into reading the news or an article about politics. I like to know what’s going on in the world, but there is a limit to what I can ingest in a day and still maintain a good mood.

Drake molting

My husband dragged me outside earlier this evening and I took my camera. One of my favorite hobbies is taking pictures and I have dropped the ball on walking around with my camera and soaking up outside time. Just being out, walking the property, catching the ducks playing in the pond, scratching the pig’s ears, and walking with the hens, soothes my whole being like nothing else can. Except maybe bread. My farm is my giant red reset button, and every time I go out and just look around, I am reminded that turning off the devices and looking at what’s real and in front of me is important, necessary and what I need every day.
Tomorrow I will do better. Maybe I will turn the devices off all day, who knows. Wouldn’t that be a trip? To take a step back in time, and not know instantly what is going on in the world? I need to try it.

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Pining for Fall

Pumpkin patch

While fall is imminent, I just wish it felt more like it.  Summer is my least favorite of all seasons and I am ready for this one to be over with.  I realized we are trying to artificially make it fall at my house this week.  While my husband is outside heat treating some knives he’s working on for orders, the smell of what could be a campfire wafts into the house proper.  We harvested pumpkins earlier from the garden and I am ready to find a thousand and one recipes to use up my pumpkins.  While he’s outside working on knives, I’m inside working on baking.  I have squash bread in the oven and I’m thinking about the best way to start butter so I can slather our baked goods today with homemade butter.  We have planted the fall garden, so there is broccoli, cauliflower, kale, brussels sprouts, cabbage, Napa cabbage, and onions out there now, making use of what was the green bean rows.  I have had my pumpkin pie Scentsy on pretty much non stop for two weeks.

It’s not that I hate summer, it’s just that I really love fall.  Especially after summer, which is hot and humid and there are a lot of bugs.  I like cooler weather and no bugs.  And baking.  And all of the holidays that come with this time of year.  The holidays that are dedicated to eating.  I know the real reason for those holidays isn’t food, but they are the best because of the food traditions.  Diets go out the window, differences are mostly ignored and people gather round tables to share food.  It has been my thought that a lot of things could be worked out if people just shared food more often.  You and Uncle Larry don’t like each other?  Surely you can find some common ground over Aunt May’s chocolate silk pie.  And honestly if neither of them can cook, don’t even worry about fixing the relationship.  But in all seriousness, if people were more willing to explore other people’s food traditions and share a meal, there would be a lot less hate in this world.

But I digress.  So far this week we have harvested four or five pumpkins, all of which look fantastic.  They were an accident really.  My husband threw a bunch of squash seeds on the compost pile, and now a pumpkin and butternut squash patch have taken over our yard.  As long as I get food from it, I’m all for it.  We also have some potato plants in there that are super happy.  We might get the first potatoes we have ever grown later this fall.  And today we dug up sweet potatoes we had tossed in a pot and forgot about.  We got about a pound of potatoes and that to us is amazing since they have lived on serious neglect all summer.  The pumpkins got a lot of neglect as well.  Once they started doing well we watered them if they needed it, but really growing in the compost pile could be the best kind of neglect.  They get fertilized by everything breaking down out there and the soil isn’t super unforgiving.

The smell of baked things with cloves and cinnamon is filling the house and making me a little hungry.  If you have any pumpkin recipes, send them my way.  For now, I will bake squash bread and wait for the pumpkins we have to cure so I can start cooking with them.



Chickens everywhere


We put my desk in the dining room next to the French doors that look out over the backyard.  While I sit here trying to think of clever things to write, I can look out and see what kinds of insanity my birds are getting up to.  Half the time they are on the back porch looking in at me, probably trying to figure out why I would just sit there when they so clearly need treats.  We have one that comes in now to lay her egg.  She is a young hen, she just started laying a week ago.  She watched a different chicken come in the house a couple of times and figured it would be worth trying.  So one day, when the door was open because we were carrying something in or carrying something out, she waltzed on in like she had done it a million times.  Whatever beacon guided her there, I don’t know, but this hen sauntered over to the dog crate we have on the outside wall of the kitchen and hopped on top where we keep a cat bed, typically for the cats.  She kicked and wiggled her butt and threw straw around in that bed for a while, then she went outside.  She repeated this the next day.  And the next.  On that third day, she laid a perfect, teeny tiny, brown fairy egg.  That’s what they’re called when they are small and are usually either laid by a hen that is brand new, or starting to get old.  After she left her present for us, she hopped down and wanted back out.  That was 6 eggs ago.  She comes in every day, rain or shine, to lay an egg in that cat bed.  And then she goes right back out.  So we basically get breakfast delivered to our kitchen.

Chickens are funny.  We don’t really know what possessed her to try that out, to even try coming in the house.  The other chicken does it because she knows that’s where people treats are kept and she gets put right back out.  We have another hen, a small brown girl, the same age as the egg in the house chicken, who waits at the door to the coop every night until you come out to close them up.  She wants to talk and talk the whole time you are in there gathering the eggs and getting the coop ready for nighttime.  Then she gets up in her favorite spot and tucks in for bed.  We have chickens that would follow you all over this property, but the minute you acknowledge they are there, start pecking around like they weren’t just following you.  You’re not fooling us, chicken.  We have a chicken, that when you sit down, she gets in your lap and demands to be held.  Not just to sit with you, she wants to be held.  Put down your phone, human or I will put it down for you.

And they’re smarter than people give them credit for.  They learn and they figure stuff out.  If a chicken really wants something, it will find a way to get it.  Even if that something is just a warm, dry place in a kitchen to lay an egg.



We butchered two of the roosters yesterday.  Before you get too emotional for them, our hens are looking a little bald and a little beat up lately.  Poor Sookie even has a hole in her back the size of a nickel.  So we kept the sweetest one and the other two are freezer birds and stock right now.  I will be canning a ton of chicken stock we are getting off of these guys sometime tonight.  Anyway, so I decided I would try to learn how to do the actual processing.  Usually Hubby brings me the whole bird dressed out and cleaned up and all I have to do is separate cuts of meat and put them in baggies.  I decided it’s time for me to learn the process before that.  If you ever decide to raise your own chickens or ducks for meat, let me offer you a tiny piece of advice for butchery day.  Leave your mouth closed.  What kind of crazy advice is that?  Well, you leave your mouth closed so that when the wind kicks up you don’t end up with feathers in your mouth.  Trust me, you don’t want this to happen to you.

I managed to impress my husband with my willingness to learn this part.  I can’t kill them, I am not even close to being there.  And I don’t know if I ever will.  He and I have talked a lot about this part of homesteading and he is willing to do that part of it.  I would like to be able to help him more, and I am learning new things all the time in order to do that.  If he can get the process started and then hand it off to me, that opens up a whole new range of options for what we can get done.  He worked on his blacksmithing yesterday while I worked on the first rooster.  He was nearby to give me pointers and answer questions, but he also got some of his work done.  The more we can do that, the more successful we will be.

Heck, maybe this week he will show me how to use the chainsaw.


Farm Life


I’m having a hard time focusing.  It’s been this way for a couple of weeks now.  The weather isn’t helping; it feels like spring some days and it looks like spring some days.  The peach tree thinks it’s spring.  And the chickens are more actively free ranging, searching out the tender shoots of grass and ripping them from the cold ground.  But then the winter-like days return for a few days.  It’s maddening.  Not that I am quite ready for the return of warm weather; warm weather means that oppressively hot is just around the corner, and I have a feeling this year is going to be a hot one.  We have so many different things going on right now that I could turn in circles all day and not do anything productive.  But that doesn’t mean that I am getting any relaxing done either.

The pig pen needs to go up, the chicken run needs to be finished, the coop cleaned out, 10 gallons of broth need to be canned so we have room in the freezer for meat, the house could use a good scrubbing, the lawn desperately needs attention, the flower beds need tending, I need to write, I need to take a thousand and one pictures and I need to sketch us some designs for the homestead logo.  In addition to work, and the other every day things that need doing.  We aren’t any busier than usual, honestly, I am just having a hard time finding a thing and sticking with it.  And every day that the weather changes, it makes it worse.

Today I spent some time taking pictures with my chickens and my husband while we walked the property and talked about gardening plans.  I am also working on some of the pictures I took today with new editing software I found.  This is my happy place, honestly.  As I ease back into my home and my routine here, talking shop with my hubby and taking pictures of my chickens, I remember why we live here and not in the city.  I have lived in the city.  And for who I was when I was there, it was fine.  But now, the city makes me high strung and antsy.  It makes me cranky and it makes me unfocused.

But this week I’m going to focus on fixing my scattered.  I’m going to hang with my chickens and take way too many pictures.  I’m going to cook with my hubby and find new recipes.  I’m going to learn more about photography and editing.  And I’m going to forget the hustle and bustle of the big city.  Well, at least until I have to go back to work.



Keeping Up With the Jones’

I read something the other day that really resonated with me.  Basically, it said that the economy is geared to make us unhappy.  Because if we are unhappy, we buy more stuff.  Unhappy with the way you look?  We have something you can buy for that.  Unhappy with your house?  Redecorate it with this stuff you can buy.  You get the idea.  And we feed into it.  We (pun intended) buy into that way of thinking hook, line and sinker.  We declutter at the beginning of a new year because we have accumulated a lot of stuff that was supposed to make us happy.  We have whole sections of books in libraries and bookstores, whole websites and seminars, and job titles dedicated to the idea of decluttering and organizing all of our stuff.  But does our “stuff” make us happier?  My new coffee maker makes a better cup of coffee than my old beat up one did.  But it takes up twice the room in the kitchen which makes it harder to keep the kitchen clean.  My new comforter looks nice and suits the bedroom better than my old one, but does it keep us warmer?  Now the old one is being stored, which takes up more room in the closet.  I can donate it, or have a yard sale.  I recently took three large boxes of books to the library to donate them.  And then I quickly filled up their spaces on the bookshelves with new books that have been purchased or gifted to us.  As a society, we have so much stuff, that we design houses with storage in mind now.  Bigger closets, bigger kitchens, bigger bathroom cabinets.  At the end of the day, how much bigger does everything have to be to make us happy?  Better yet, when is enough enough?  How many thousands of dollars do we have to spend on Christmas?  Or birthdays?  How much do we need to be like Dudley Dursley to be happy?

Is there a better way?  Do we have to keep up with the Jones or the Kardashians?  Do we absolutely have to have the newest, shiniest, biggest thing?  In addition to everything else I resolved this year, I think I may have to add a late one.  I want to resolve to accumulate less stuff, buy fewer things, and learn to find my happiness in moments, memories and time with my family.  Instead of buying a new kitchen gadget that I might use three times this year, I am going to be present in the moment of kneading bread while my husband preps stews.  Instead of worrying about how new my jeans are, I’m going to focus on the fact that they have paint stains from when we made our master bedroom our own.  Instead of buying piles of new books by the dozens, I am going to read the ones I own that are sitting in stacks around the house, waiting for their worlds to be discovered.

This year, I resolve to find my happiness outside of consuming.  To be present and notice the texture of a moment.  To be aware of sounds and smells that permeate this existence and find my joy in them.  No, I really don’t need a new car, or a new wardrobe, or a new gadget.  I need to enjoy what I have, but more importantly, who I have.  We sometimes forget that it’s the people and the memories that make us happy, not the things.  It’s hard to focus on the moments when our entire world is geared towards reminding us of all the things we don’t have.  And filling us with an urgency to go acquire them.  But at the end, it’s the people that make life memorable.  And it’s the people that make you happy.

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New Year’s Resolutions Folks


Here it is, 2017!  Welcome New Year!  Some of us are really happy to see you.  We don’t really want to talk too much behind her back, but last year was a little brutal towards some of us.  We lost family, we lost artists we loved from our childhood and we got beaten up, well, a lot.  But here you are!  New Year!  The days are already starting to get longer, the holiday stress is behind us (unless you count trying to get rid of the holiday food from your backside), seed catalogs are in our mailboxes and Resolutions are being made.  Of course I have some, and I am really hoping this year I can keep a couple.  Resolutions that is, not extra pounds.  You know, past February when most resolutions get the boot.  Last year, I had an easy one to keep, “Love More”.  Oh it was what great resolutions are made of; it was lofty, elegant, vague and open ended.  Heck, if I increased the “love” by just 0.5%, I have resolution success!  That could mean 15 minutes one day of being nice to someone.  Woohoo!  We made it!  Good job, pat on the back.

Well this year, I am adding a “plan” to my resolutions.  This should make them more measurable outside the vague cloud of last year’s resolution.  What do I have planned for this year?  What fresh torture am I going to subject myself to?  Starve and exercise until I am my high school weight?  Get rid of all sweeteners?  Or, (ick), go without all carbs?  Nope, not this girl, not that dramatic.  Instead I think I will try to get into better shape.  Vague, right?  That’s why I am adding the plan of a couch to 5k.  Get rid of sweeteners?  No thanks.  I like sugar, and yes I know it’s terrible for me, but I don’t care.  But I am going to get rid of sodas.  I want to grow 100% of one of our vegetables that we eat.  100% of what we use for the entire year, and preserve it so we are eating our own vegetables in winter.  I want to commit to writing more and growing my craft.  If I wrote half as much as I talk, I could have three novels published by now.  I want to put money into the savings, and I have a small amount already set aside each paycheck starting now.  I want to organize the homestead endeavors better.  And to keep up with the danged homestead binder this year.  I want to pay off a student loan this year, and I have already worked it into the budget.

None of this seems that outrageous at this time.  And with the exception of the couch to 5k, I’m pretty sure I can work towards those goals with 5 minutes a day to devote to them.  We have changed some of what we do and how already, but I want to take what progress we’ve already made and build on it.  We don’t change over night, and none of this will be easy every single day.  We went to Lowe’s today to buy some goodies for the house and I asked Hubby if he wanted to split a soda.  He was the wiser of the two of us and said no, we are sticking with this.  But at least he’s in it with me.  And as long as I can change my attitude, I can change anything.

Happy New Year!  May your year be full of love and good food.


2016, You’re a Bitch


If this year has taught us anything, it’s that nothing is sacred, not even childhood.  We started off the year losing Alan Rickman, who has been a favorite of mine for a long time.  And as a Harry Potter obsessive, he was the best person they could have chosen to play Snape.  So needless to say, that broke my heart.  Then Prince, David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, Merle Haggard, Gene Wilder (screw you 2016!), Robert Vaugh and the list goes on and on.  But seriously, 2016, what was the meaning of you taking Kenny Baker away from us?  Why go after the droid?  What’s your problem?  This year was brutal in celebrity deaths.  It was also a tumultuous disaster year.  Two hurricanes, flooding, mudslides, drought, tornadoes in November and the wildfire in East Tennessee that devastated that area.  2016 would not stick to national news, either; it came after my family.  Well you know what, 2016?  You better really enjoy your last gasps because the end of you is on its way.  And I know plenty of people that will be glad to see you go.  So much negativity in the news can really wear a person down, don’t you think?  And then to come home to your sanctuary and realize that bad news can strike inside the walls of your haven, well, that’s just down right hateful.  It makes for a hard time.  But I have to say, there is always something good that comes along and reminds us that all is not lost, very much like the rainbow after a bad storm.  If that storm decimated your environment, stole your water, killed off some of your favorite famous people and family, and oh yeah, did I mention?  Killed a chicken.  Man that rainbow is a little more muted this year.  Instead of vibrant colors, it’s closer to shades of mauve.

How do we combat this?  How do we recover?  It’s not easy, and it’s not straightforward either.  There’s a saying, tough times make tough people.  I guess that’s true, but you could also say tough times break tough people.  I know, I know, I’m a ray of sunshine right now.  But I want to share with you something that happened not that long ago that made some of this go away.  A friend of mine is a born and bred city girl.  And she told me recently that for the first time ever she is going to be moving into a house with a lawn that she intends to grow food on.  And what makes this conversation special is she told me that through what I do and what I share with her, it made her get excited about learning how to do those things.  Will she have 22 chickens?  Maybe not, but maybe.  Maybe she finds out how amazing and rewarding growing tomatoes can be, so she tries something else, then something else, then something else until she is living just outside of town on a couple of acres of ground with some chickens in the backyard, gardening her little heart out.  Or maybe she sticks to her backyard garden in town and enjoys giving fresh tomatoes to friends and family.  Either way, she was inspired by somebody talking about something they are passionate about.  Why can’t that be what we all plan for 2017?  Let’s all strive to enrich someone else’s life, because I can guarantee you that through that effort, our own lives are enriched.  When you lift up others and share your passion with them, you are healing part of you, too.  It’s our response to adversity that makes or breaks us and it’s our response to those around us that either pulls them up or knocks them down another rung.  I didn’t say, well I guess you could grow something in the city, but that’s such a small goal, and a lot of work; instead I went with, do you know how much food you can grow on 1/4 acre?  You could feed yourself for a year and then some!

This has been a beast of a year.  Let’s make 2017 something amazing.  Let’s make 2017 a year for inspiring others, not tearing each other down.  I for one am going to keep trying new things and failing and crying and getting back up and dusting off my kitchen apron.  And just maybe I can convince some of you to try something new with me this year.

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The Homestead Wasn’t Built In A Day


The weather is weird for November; I want to close the windows not because it’s cold but because I want to turn on the AC.  The tomato plants are producing better right now than they did all the way through the conventional tomato season.  The winter squash are growing fine, but I worry that the lack of chill in the air might make them not as sweet.  The change in daylight hours has made the chickens lazy; they are laying less.  This is a seasonal thing, it happens every year when it gets darker earlier, and the only way to combat that is to put a light in the coop.  We are currently discussing it.  So what better way to make ourselves feel good about our progress (or make us feel guilty about our lack thereof) than to sit and listen to the Mother Earth News online Homesteading Summit?  We couldn’t think of one either.  As we sit and listen to presentations by legends like Joel Salatin and John Kohler, and so many others, we are finding ourselves in each of the stories about how things didn’t always go well, and what it taught them.  We are laughing along with the woman who struggled with fencing to keep her goats in at the same time that we are figuring out poultry fencing.  We are learning what happened to our original tomato harvest and why the tomatoes didn’t make much fruit while listening to a guy talk about compost.  This has genuinely been a good couple of days of presentations to listen to.  And it makes it easier to understand in a practical way instead of a theoretical way as we are in many of the situations being discussed right now.  Instead of taking notes and thinking about how this will change the way we do things a few months down the road, we are putting the techniques in place now, and hoping to see results in the coming year.

The thing about this whole homesteading thing is, even if you’ve done it for years, there is always something new to learn.  And the moment you think you know everything, your homestead or your farm or your garden will find a way to prove you wrong.  So far we have been lucky; we haven’t had any major catastrophes take out our entire flock of chickens, or decimate the garden.  But we also have had some hard lessons learned.  For one thing, putting a bleeding chicken in the bathroom so you can clean her up and try to save her comb is a bad idea.  Thankfully we were planning on redoing that bathroom anyway.  But in all seriousness, we have frequently had something throw a kink in our plans and drive us off the road we had plotted for the day, week or even month.  We planned to finish securing the fencing on the duck yard yesterday; instead we spend a lot of time in the kitchen processing a mean rooster.  Had he not attacked me, the duck yard might be crossed off the to do list.  As it is, we are hoping to finish up tomorrow.  Then it’s back to work on the chicken yard expansion, starting the pig yard, we still have floors that need to be put down in two bedrooms, the garden to prep for next year, trees to cut down and cut up, and the list goes on.  But as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is a homestead.  I’m going to put another load of laundry in and turn on another presentation.