Another Attempt at Homesteading

I can’t pinpoint the exact trigger this time. I think the urge has just been simmering for so long that I finally accepted that it wasn’t going away, and I might as well do something about it before I grow old and resentful. But why do this thing - this giant chore? This backbreaking, heartbreaking, unrealistic utopian fantasy that so far has never really come to fruition after several attempts? I guess I’m just a sucker for dreams. Once I latch on to one, it’s hard to let go.

No, it’s not just for the Instagram shot of the rainbow of unbelievably shiny produce spilling over the edge of a butcher block counter or of the perfectly pressure-canned pantry lined up like petrified row crops. I swear, I’m not that shallow (well, maybe sometimes).

So, what is it? Why not just “buy [fill in the blank food] at the grocery store and move on with your life”? (If I had a tomato for every time I’ve heard that I’d have a lot of spaghetti sauce.) Well, like many difficult ambitions that we are compelled to justify, there are a mixture of subjective and objective reasons. And this is definitely a ridiculously difficult ambition. One could argue one of the most difficult. The ambition of being a “homesteader” in the 21st century; more specifically for me, an “urban homesteader”, working intensively on a small piece of land to try to feed one’s family, as much as possible, from one’s own backyard.

Do I even feel like getting into this right now? I should be doing dishes. What is homesteading REALLY, you might ask? Well, about 50% of it is washing dishes. The fact that dishes are my least favorite chore, and I’m still electing to attempt to be a homesteader should convey some level of my convictions. I have reasons! Ok, here’s one.

Am I the only one who is bothered by the fact that we humans used to, up until the VERY recent past, know how to acquire and/or produce our own food without biweekly trips to a grocery store, and we have lost probably 98% of those skills in just a few generations? (That statistic was just pulled from thin air, but you get the idea…it’s a lot.) People talk about hoarding seeds in case the crap hits the fan, and we have to rebuild society in a “doomsday” scenario, but can you imagine the average American citizen knowing enough about plants and seasons and soil fertility and pest management to actually transform these tiny vaults of life into something edible? Assuming some people (alas, there are still gardeners among us) managed to finagle a decent harvest, how many would know how to effectively harvest, cure, process, preserve, and store enough to make it through the “hungry months”? I think most would guarantee themselves the most calories by simply eating the seeds directly!

This notion is simultaneously unsettling, sad, and darkly hilarious. I think about our ancestors' hard-learned wisdom, fortified and tested over generations, passed down over countless hours toiling alongside loved ones and neighbors, doing the work of “staying alive”, through rites of passage and celebrations, which has essentially been erased from our collective memory. So much we will never recover. What a staggering loss to recognize.

The unsettling part is pretty easy to understand. Basically, if anything significantly disrupts our current system of food production and distribution, most people will die. We are like birds at a bird feeder in the middle of a garden with the “machine” filling the feeder at a constant and steady rate. There may be seeds and bugs all around, but it might as well be a desert because if the feeder ran dry, we would starve to death staring at the abundance around us. Wild, isn’t it?!

I know, this is all sounding very dystopian. Sorry about that. Let me lighten the mood. It’s definitely not too late to reclaim some of our primitive dignity - and it is dignifying! It’s somewhat difficult to convey, but there is a noticeable sense of some primal empowerment when you eat something you were engaged with beyond swiping a credit card. I really think it taps into something instinctual. Even just snipping some leaves off of your own rosemary bush to season a soup. The feeling is there. And the more I feel it, the more I am drawn to it - not as a craving for "more" but instead as some kind of natural magnetism. Eating this way just feels increasingly more "normal" than the current standard.

Like an animal in captivity that is trained to be wild again so it can be released back to it's natural habitat - we can re-learn and cultivate our innate ambition to forage, gather, grow, and even hunt. Maybe it's not for everyone, but it is for many, as is evidenced by the number of us that find fundamental joy from vegetable gardening, fishing, and hunting. For others, maybe they are just too far removed from these activities and have lost some of that instinct. Or maybe they just need a nudge to become re-engaged. Who knows. I'm not here to preach or say what others should or shouldn't do. These are just my observations and assumptions.

The preservation and promotion of traditional and primitive skills is just one of many reasons that homesteading appeals to me. Maybe I should go into other reasons on another post because this is becoming a lot to read (and a write) in one sitting. There are also things like health, pleasure, sustainability, community, creativity, exploration and discovery - oh my!

Back to my original thought - for whatever reason or reasons, against all considerations of time management, professional obligations, desire for leisure activities, and likelihood of imperfection (some might say "failure"), I'm giving it another go. Like the song says, I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away, but I just need one good one to stay (beautiful hyperbole).

The homestead project is one of the things I wanted to document on this blog, so here's the current situation...

Our yard is a little over one-half of an acre in Central Florida, Zone 10a (up until 2023 I was always Zone 9b, so I'm still getting used to being a "Zone 10" girl!). My growing space is about 640 square feet of raised beds for growing annual crops, flowers, and some small perennials, and a little over 2,000 square feet of in-ground gardens that started out as ornamental gardens, but I will be replanting a lot of it with edible perennials (permaculture-style). I think my subconscious has intentionally neglected some of the ornamentals. If you want to grow in my yard, you better be feeding me or the pollinators or finding some other way to make yourself useful - no room for slackers. Speaking of pollinators, I'm a huge fan of butterflies, so there are some plants that I grow just for them. They are like friends to me, and you should always have something ready to serve when a friend stops by!

In addition to growing areas, I have a 98 square foot chicken coop built by my dear husband. It originally housed a flock that was half mine and half my sister's. After that era, it contained coturnix quail that I raised for meat and eggs. That went on for a couple of years until I decided I didn't want to spend any more of my time beheading small birds for meat that I didn't really "love". It was good if cooked "low and slow", but it just wasn't something I really looked forward to eating, if that makes sense. Slaughtering animals is difficult work, physically as well as mentally, and I'd just had enough.

It's been over a year now of the coop being empty, and I think one of the catalysts of my "homestead revival" was that I was just tired of seeing it empty. I was THIS CLOSE to getting ducks but chickened out (ha!) at the last minute because I was worried they would be too loud for suburbia, and if anyone reported me I would most likely have to rehome them because I'm not "technically" allowed to have them where I live. So, I'm back to chickens! McMurray Hatchery had just closed their sales for the season when I finally made up my mind to do this, but I found another hatchery that was still selling mail-order, day-old chicks that had great selection - Meyer Hatchery! I was a little nervous having not ordered from them before, and having not raised baby chickens before (I've only ever had adult chickens, but I have raised a lot of quail chicks), but they arrived safe and sound in a happy (and noisy!) little box on November 5 (Election Day! I've been calling them my "presidential chicks"). I converted the hen house for their brooder, and so far, we've made it to Day 2!

I think livestock is one of the things that separates "homesteaders" from "gardeners", so I'm really excited to be jumping in with both feet (I don't really know any other way). I got 5 different breeds so I will be able to tell them apart and have "rainbow" eggs of brown, white, blue, and green. The Buff Orpington is my favorite! She's just so round and fluffy, it's hilarious! She looks like a little fuzzy tennis ball with legs. I could watch them for hours with their little chicky antics!

Here are the breeds that I ordered: Buff Orpington, Black Austrolorp, Mottled Ancona, Olive Egger, and Cream Legbar. I'm naming each one after a female character in my favorite book series, Harry Potter (shameless HP nerd here). Meet the presidential chicks!

Molly (Buff Orpington)

Merope (Black Australorp)

Luna (Mottled Ancona)

Lily (Cream Legbar)

Sybill (Olive Egger)