Homestead-ish: Our Journey to Self-Sufficiency (Sort of)

Here’s the deal—we’re doing our best to transition from spoiled city life to something a little more self-sufficient. With the way the world is heading (sideways, if you hadn’t noticed), we figure it’s pretty important to learn how to take care of ourselves: grow our own food, source our own water, generate our own energy, educate our own kids, and even harvest herbs to make our own medicine.

Sounds noble, right?

Well, then reality comes along and slaps me in the face, reminding me that I am a forty-something, out-of-shape, city-dwelling stay-at-home mom who has never done any kind of hard physical labor. So… you see my dilemma. Where do we even start?!

The Great Ranch Debate

My sweet husband has always dreamed of owning a ranch—big acreage, remote location, horses, the whole works. Me? Not so much. I love my city conveniences. If I have to drive more than five minutes to grab a package of bacon on a Saturday morning, I get cranky. Horses? They scare me. And I want to be within screaming distance of my neighbors in case of an emergency.

Because let’s be honest—who’s going to hear me scream if I:

• Fall into a well?

• Get kicked in the ribs by a temperamental horse?

• Encounter an axe murderer?

No one. I’m dead. And that, my friends, is why I put the kibosh on the full-blown ranch dream. (Sorry, honey!)

The Perfect (Compromise) Property

But then, something amazing happened. God led us to the perfect piece of land—one that we both fell in love with.

Ten gorgeous acres, big enough for horses (as long as they stay the heck away from me), has a rural feel to it, yet only seven minutes from emergency bacon. And we have one neighbor close enough to hear me scream. (I have yet to inform said neighbor of their upcoming “Emergency Screaming Alert” duties. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.)

And so, here we are, in the shadows of the stunning San Juan Mountains in southwestern Colorado. This is where God planted us, this is where we’re meant to be, and this is where we begin our journey of…

Homesteading. No.

Off-grid life. Not really.

Surviving the zombie apocalypse. Nah.

*sigh*

This is where we start figuring it out.

We’re Going for Homestead…ish

Now, let’s be clear—we are not going full Little House on the Prairie over here. That’s too hardcore. We will not be using leaves for toilet paper (my husband has a very sensitive tushy—don’t tell him I told you that).

We are also not hunting squirrels for food or tanning their tiny pelts for clothing and blankets (though, admittedly, a squirrel-fur headband might be cute).

I don’t see a washboard and galvanized tub in my immediate laundry future, but I would love to make my own homemade laundry soap and string up a clothesline outside. Baby steps, right?

Which is why we’re not creating a full-fledged homestead.

This is where we start figuring it all out

We’re going for Homestead-ish.

Maybe not perfect, but better than before.

It’s all about the “-ish.”