What We Would Have Done Differently

I stumbled across this piece I wrote in 2002 in hindsight of our move to the land.

What We Would Have Done Differently
2002

March 28, 1999. Got to the farm about 3:30 p.m. without incident until I stuck the truck and trailer along with 14 goats, 5 chickens, 4 cats, 2 geese and a 3-legged sheep. Had been raining here all day and was sloppy, sloppy. Put up goat pens and made bacon, gravy and fried potatoes for supper on the camp fire - turned out raw and sandy. Didn’t sleep well.

March 29, 1999 Up with Dave, then kindled the fire and had coffee and read Countryside. Started laundry (by hand in 5 gallon buckets) - seemed like it took hours - and washed up dishes. Tired already. Put up a tarp shelter for the goats. Third time’s a charm, the first 2 attempts were used for a goat trampoline. Made a pen for the chickens and geese. 2 out 5 promptly escaped. Brought in firewood, straightened up the campsite, juiced up the fire and made stew. Caught a little black snake with an orange necklace and yellow belly. Wonder what we’ve gotten ourselves into. . .

That was more than 3 years ago, and although those were my private thoughts, I wouldn’t have dreamed of letting anyone else know that I was feeling, shall we say, less than confident. After all, when you make the decision to live a homestead life in a plastic world you don’t want to give well-intentioned "normal" people any more ammunition than necessary. By now I’m used to being "that crazy goat woman on the hill who doesn’t know it’s the 21st century" and it doesn’t bother me to say, "You know, we probably should have . . . . . "

Although realistically we picked the most appropriate general area of the country for our needs - warm weather, adequate rain, trees for wood, no building codes or Euro-Union gun laws - we probably could have done a little more research on our specific homestead. We might have found a place in this area that was a little more ideal, but on the other hand it’s purposeless to spend too much time coveting what our neighbor owns on the other side of the fence. We’re making the best with what we have.

Our intention was to drill a well immediately, but finances and geology interfered (another research issue) so we’re still hauling water: do-able but not convenient. Fortunately we’ve got a good spring. We’re working on developing a spring-based water system, and rural water is coming in a year or so, but we should have made an adequate and reasonably convenient water system a priority. On the other hand, adversity IS an excellent teacher.

The garden was another area we approached backwards. When we leveled a place for our "temporary" house, a 1950’s vintage 8x35’ Spartanette park model trailer, we also cleared 2 large garden areas then proceeded to try to coax nourishment from unimproved Oklahoma clay and summer drought. We should have started with what we have now: a 15x20ft, well-amended, fenced plot close to the house; extensive container plantings; with gradual work on the bigger plots to increase fertility and soil quality.
When we moved here our biggest pre-occupation was with building a house. Needless to say, it’s not built yet, but we’re cozy in our little trailer with a 12x18’ addition. We would have been better served concentrating our initial planning and energy on permanent livestock housing and a roomy, weather-tight workshop/tool storage area. Another thing we didn’t consider in the beginning was adequate storage for preserved food and large food-preservation equipment.

A major headache has been our driveway. We spent many a sleepless, rainy night wondering if my husband would be able to get out in the morning to go to work. Surfacing dirt roads with good rock in high-use areas should have been a priority on our homestead.

I really don’t know where we’d be now if we would have started differently, but things have come together as things will. Our little house garden is exploding and the largest plot is perking along with green manures of wheat and rye and soil-enriching crops of black-eyed peas and mung beans. The goats are milking well, the chickens churning out eggs and chicks, and the rabbits finally reproducing like, well, like rabbits. There are jars of home-grown, home-canned pork stew meat in the pantry cabinet and hams, cheeses and bacon in the extra refrigerator.

New homesteaders, don’t fret. We all could have done at least something different or better in the beginning (if we’re honest with ourselves,) and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.  Persistence is the key.  Live and learn.