|
The wind howled and twisted through the treetops, but down in the sheltered yard only a light breeze filtered through. The line of evergreens, planted when the homestead was first established, had matured to become the protectors imagined nearly two decades before. When we purchased our homestead, we started with bare ground. 25 acres was rented to a neighbor, and 10 acres (where we eventually built our home) was an abandoned pasture. We'd lived in the suburbs for nearly 10 years, so this was a bit of a switch. Instead of homes nestled next to each other and a supermarket just a few minutes away, we had wind-whipped open fields and a half hour drive to town. This isn't bad compared to what some folks deal with, but it was a change for us, and made us more mindful about certain things. First, as we began planning and planting our homestead, a living windbreak was a priority. Visiting neighbors in the area, the difference between windbreak and no windbreak was readily apparent. The trees were small when they went in, but it wasn't long before they started doing their job. As we added plants and buildings, we always try to keep in mind accessibility - on foot and with vehicles - workflows, and sun exposure. It's fairly easy to redecorate a room in your house, but not so easy to move trees, buildings, and garden beds. We also changed shopping habits, keeping our pantry, root cellar, and other food storage better stocked. It's not as handy to bop to the store when something runs out, and during heavy snow it's best not to go at all. When supply chain disruptions happen, it's just a blip on the radar instead of a significant problem. When income is down, we have backups. It's not fancy, but it works. It's practical strategies like these that I share in my new book, Common Sense Preparedness. I take you step by step through planning and prepping for food, water, shelter, hygiene, first aid, and perhaps most importantly - mindset. We've been through a lot of things over the years - health issues, job loss, deaths in the family, weather events - and having steady systems makes dealing with it all much easier. I'd be honored if you'd consider pre-ordering your copy today to help give the book a strong launch. This Week’s Resilience & Abundance Boost
The most reliable security often comes from simple systems built patiently over time. All our best to you and yours, Laurie (and August IV, August V, and Duncan) This week's featured articles...Speaking of food storage, I've updated the long shelf life foods article with printable chart. Keep this information in mind when you're stocking the pantry. If you want to grow onions from seed instead of sets, the clock is ticking to get them started. My smiling onion partner and I share our best tips for a big and bountiful onion harvest. If you'd like something a little sweeter, you can check out how to grow raspberries. Asparagus season has started, and this pickled asparagus recipe packs a probiotic punch. On the sweeter side of things, my grandma's cinnamon coffee cake is sure to please. Make sure not to overbake it, or it'll dry out and you'll need more coffee. Don't hate on those spring dandelions! Check out this article to read about dandelion benefits, and how to use them. |
Nearly 20 years ago, we set out to create a self-reliant homestead. Now we produce our own food and our own power, and can tackle whatever craziness this wild world throws at us. If you’re ready take back control from Big Pharma and Big Food and feel confident facing Everyday Emergencies, join us.
Homestead rhythms quickened and eased, always interwoven with the seasons. As the days lengthened and spring approached, the flocks grew restless in the mornings, bolting outside as soon as possible in spite of lingering cold. Tree buds began to swell, sap rose, bird song spread in ripples - joyous melodies to welcome the day. I am sorting through my root cellar storage this coming week, checking condition of storage crops and setting aside my seed potatoes for the coming season. Note - if...
The breath of false spring swept across the mid winter landscape, buttressed by steady rains that swept away ice and snow. The homestead ponds, low from months of scant precipitation, filled again. The flock of patchwork ducks romped happily, their feathers soft as velvet from hours of washing and oiling. As I watched them from the door of the greenhouse, framed by the arch of garden trellises as they played in the pond, it looked like a scene from an old-fashioned children's book. Winter...
The last of the homegrown apples sat in a bin on the porch, looking like a gaggle of old crones ready to share laughs over stories from their younger years. They were russets, dense and firm, known for their storage properties. The porch was too dry and cold for pristine preservation, but those conditions concentrated their sugars, making them perfect for one final fresh apple pie. The yard is filled with puddles in the sun and ice in the shade as temps spike up to 10-20 degrees above average...