The hopeless homesteader

It’s the start of a brand new year and for me, the restart of a whole new lifestyle. After spending  over two decades in the company of the US Postal Service I decided a year ago that it was time for something new…but what? At 47 years of age with no specialized skills apart from being able to pick a banjo a little, my options were limited. My fiancé who is a nurse happens to own 5 beautiful acres in southern Oregon and one day I looked out over the rolling, tree covered landscape and thought, “Yep, I can do something with this land!”

1401418_10200698941108060_1831410576_o

And so the adventure had begun. Visions of cows and chickens and goats and ponds and lots and lots of beautiful vegetables, and thoughts such as “Oh, I can plant garlic over there and start a small gourmet garlic business” raced through my excited mind. One year later, I still can’t get up before 7 in the morning and have realized at least this much: What in the heck have I gotten myself into? Oh, I have managed to get a few things accomplished that I’m mighty proud of, being hopeless and all. A chicken coop in a large enclosure that I built myself, a hoop house, several raised beds for veggies, a pond in progress, over 100 lavender plants in the ground. But everything seems out of focus–as if I don’t have a cohesive plan. With the start of a new year however, I’ve resolved to bring to fruition a semi-functioning homestead, or fraction thereof. I might have to get up before 7 though…what the heck have I gotten myself into?

Advertisements