On the second day of January, as I was in the camper making breakfast, my husband came bounding in exclaiming, “there’s a baby cow out there!”
For months, I had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of Charlotte’s calf. I’d been watching her womb expand, and her milk bag grow with the excitement of a child waiting for Christmas. We weren’t exactly sure when the calf would arrive, but as the holidays came and went, I could tell she was getting close. And now, finally, the moment was here! I was jumping up and down laughing and hugging my husband in a frenzy of joy and excitement, causing my one-year-old son to speed around the camper clapping and giggling. We got dressed and ran outside. There she was! A perfect little black baby girl, standing next to her momma in the snow.
Both cows looked healthy and relatively content. Charlotte had already cleaned the calf up and someone, either her or one of the dogs, had ensured that the placenta was nowhere to be seen.
Despite being confident that Charlotte was more than capable of giving birth, having a drama-free calving was actually a major relief. I had been regaled by so many people’s stories of stuck calves, still born births, and horror stories of all kinds. This admittedly made it difficult to be completely at ease.
I breathed a sigh of relief. All was well with the world. Well, almost. There was far too much hubub surrounding this newborn calf. Four energetic dogs and a curious cat were noisily swarming the area with zero respect to the personal space of mom and baby. And then, the horse got involved. Seemingly feeling threatened by this unknown creature in his paddock, he lunged toward her as if to chase her away. Charlotte scattered, and the poor baby was left to fend for herself. She was new to walking, let alone running, and the ground was covered in snow and ice. She slipped and fell, and my horse stepped on her right back leg! It all happened so fast that there was nothing I could do but watch in horror. I knew in that moment that this was not a proper environment for them. The stress they were under was palpable.
Being the resourceful person that he is, my husband set up a wooden plank across the entrace to the paddock’s shelter, high enough to let the cows in but keep the horse, Kenobi, out. He covered the baby in his jacket to keep her warm and stood guard, protecting her from Kenobi while I grabbed the pickaxe and began prying frozen manure of the ground in the shelter. We bedded it down with lots of straw and shavings, put in water, hay & the salt block, and allowed mama and baby to settle in. They were both exhausted and were soon laying down cuddling and resting.
I was pretty excited to take a look and perform my postpartum cow midwifery duties. We did not want to interfere unnecessarily, but after a few hours of observation, we began to get nervous that the calf hadn’t been seen nursing. Still biding our time and hesitant to step in, Brandon ran to the local feed store to get a bottle before they closed, just in case.
Eventually, the pair had enough rest, and Charlotte got up and began to eat and drink. Yes! Another sigh of relief. The baby got up too and was sniffing around, trying to find the teats. All we had to do was help her out a little bit by guiding her to the correct area and squeezing out a bit of milk onto her nose. Soon, she was happily suckling, and I was able to clean and bandage the cut Kenobi had made on her leg.
Now, the little calf, who we have named Ventress (IYKYK) is almost two months old. She brings so much joy to our lives every day! She is sweet and silly and full of boundless energy. Since she can easily hop through the paddock fencing, she runs around wherever she wants, exploring the homestead. She plays in the pack with the dogs and seems to think she is one of them. Right now, she appears to have the robust build of an Angus. But that could change, and I am having a wonderful time watching her grow up.
And best of all, it is so great to finally have fresh raw milk again! The quality far exceeds anything we have previously had. So far, I have learned to make butter, cheese, and sour cream with no plans to stop there. The adventure of the family dairy cow continues to be one of my favorite homestead experiences as it provides a nutritious bounty and plenty of lessons!
Fatty Lumpkin was a duck. A large, white Peking male who waddled around the homestead behind his two female mates for the past 9 months. That is, until one day…
Baby Fatty Lumpkin & his matesThe Three Peking Ducks Grown Up
We had just taken a trip into the city to have a birthday lunch for my husband and to do some errands. When we came home, I was doling out kibble and noticed both our young livestock guardian dogs had a little bit of blood on them. Kanan had it on his ear, and Ivy on her paw. Well, I checked them over and couldn’t find so much as a scratch. But they are so hairy that the fur could have easily hidden it. Had they fought off a predator? Was it just from playing too hard? The ground was covered in freshly fallen snow, and it was getting dark. With a slight sense of unease, I also noted that our cat was nowhere to be seen. Grand Admiral Thrawn, as he is named, always comes up to say hi and never misses a meal. Had a predator come in our absence and been chased off? That seemed the likliest scenario. As we got ready for bed, it seemed that all was well. I’d like to say I did a head count of the birds at that time. But the truth is I don’t really remember clearly if I did or not. (We were already down to two ducks, having enjoyed one female for dinner with friends over the holidays.)
Grand Admiral Thrawn
The morning came and with it a fresh coating of powdery snow, which covered any tracks that would provide evidence of the disturbance that had occurred. The cat was back home, and it was peaceful and beautiful. But as I was moving through my morning feeding routine, I noticed Kanan was withdrawn and disturbed. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want pets, he didn’t want to play. Clearly, the mysterious drama that played out the previous day was weighing on him.
Ivy (left) & Kanan (right)
I went back inside the camper to fix breakfast. My gaze wandered out the window, and that’s when I saw our female Peking duck, Fatty Lumpkin’s mate, cowering under a sapling and covered in blood. I called for my husband and rushed outside to evaluate the poor girl. Unfortunately, we discovered that we were not going to be able to save her. We also discovered that Ivy had more blood on her. This time on her chest. And that’s when it hit me. Where was Fatty Lumpkin? We searched all over. We trudged through the snow up the mountain and all over the homestead, looking for evidence of him. We found nothing. Now we had one mauled female and a presumed dead male.
Who dunnit?!
They Loved Mud PuddlesAnd Were Always Hanging With Us & The Chickens At Chore Time
EVIDENCE AGAINST THE SUSPECTS
Ivy
Ivy is a very recent addition to our homestead. Last spring, when she was still owned by friends of ours, she attacked a young hen. As previously stated, she had fresh blood on her when the female duck was found.
Wild coyotes
Coyotes are definitely around! We’ve seen them down by the creek on our land and hear them barking and howling in the surrounding state forest. They are also known for using a “snatch and run” strategy, which would explain Fatty Lumpkin’s complete disappearance without a trace.
Birds of prey
Our area is home to a wide variety of birds of prey, including eagles and owls. Something I have worried about is having a bird snatched up from above. This would also explain the disappearance without a trace.
DEFENSE OF THE INNOCENT
IVY: Having a livestock guardian dog who attacks farm poultry would be a big problem. We spent days discussing if it could have been Ivy and watching her every move. Before we butchered the injured female, we observed her reaction to the bird. Ivy showed no blood lust or interest in finishing the job. She absolutely does bound off towards the birds with her goofy puppy enthusiasm, sending them squawking indignantly across the yard. However, I could not sense any real malice in it (and she has been receptive to correcting that behavior). My husband pointed out that it wouldn’t take much for a dog that size to maul a duck. And yet, observing the way she delicately nibbled at the discarded entrails of the female duck in the compost heap, showing no interest in the feet, head and feathers, I simply can’t imagine her devouring Fatty Lumpkin that quickly without leaving any evidence. And there likely would have been more blood on her, especially around her mouth. So, in light of this plausible doubt, Ivy has been deemed innocent.
BIRDS OF PREY: After de-feathering the female duck, we were able to evaluate her injuries. This was enough evidence to exonerate any birds of prey. The cuts on her flesh were clearly made by canine teeth. And the way both of her wings were broken in multiple places seemed to indicate being locked in the jaws of a predatory mammal. (As a side note, it was very interesting to see the eggs inside the poor girl in their varying stages of development.)
THE VERDICT
We can conclude beyond a reasonable doubt that Coyotes are guilty. They came, snatched Fatty Lumpkin, and attempted to snatch his mate. Probably, they were chased off by Kanan.
Our Big Boy at 6 months old Baby Kanan with my Son
The first predator attack on the homestead has been a sobering experience for all of us. But that’s the way things go when you choose this lifestyle. Certainly, the case of the disappearance of Fatty Lumpkin has driven home to Kanan what his job is. Ever since that day, he has patrolled our borders with unprecedented seriousness. He now answers the calls of the Coyotes with ferocious barking and rushes to the state forest border and asserts the boundary. We are all learning here, and the learning curve can be steep. But at this point, I have no plans to stop free ranging the flock and have complete confidence that as Kanan matures, he and Ivy will be more than capable of living up to the term livestock guardian dog.
It’s been over a year since I’ve had a flushing toilet in my house! Instead, I use a composting toilet. Over the course of my time living on the road and now settling down onto our land, I’ve learned a lot about setting up the proper system to meet our changing needs. We started out using an expensive purchased toilet and have now converted over to a simple, 5-gallon bucket system. While I may further refine my process, one thing’s for sure- I’m never going back! Even if I lived on the grid, I would still use a composting toilet. In my opinion they are cleaner, easier, cheaper, and less wasteful of resources than any other option. This is especially true for traveling and off-grid living.
So, what is a composting toilet and how does it actually work? A composting toilet is one where human waste is deposited onto a bed of absorptive material such as peat moss or wood shavings. There it sits and is allowed to decompose. Over time, bacteria will degrade the feces and it will eventually become dirt. This does take a long time! So composting toilet systems are designed to be emptied before this process is finished. The waste is either disposed of or allowed to finish decomposition outside of the toilet. There are many different designs. Some have a holding tank for liquid waste to be kept separate from solid waste, and some combine the two. Some of them require mixing of the solid waste, and some do not. All designs are surprisingly simple and easy to put into use!
I love the composting method and think everyone should look into whether or not it would work for them. But, to be honest, there’s literally nothing I wouldn’t endure over a flushing toilet, a septic system, or a black water tank. The issues with those systems for waste disposal put them undeniably out of alignment with my values and what I’m willing to put up with. The first and most haunting fact I learned in college microbiology is that flushing toilets literally spray fecal bacteria all over within 6 feet of the toilet when flushed. It’s so disgusting! Fecal bacteria have appendages that can spin, allowing them to travel long distances. I envision it the way Sonic’s sidekick, Tails, flies around. But that may or may not be technically accurate. In any case, that piece of knowledge prepared my brain for accepting alternatives to flushing toilets. I’ve truly never been able to look at a toilet the same way since. And then of course there’s the water use. In my neighborhood in California, as in most places, it was potable water that was used to flush the toilets. What a waste in an area where the government places water restrictions on water use for gardens, and citizens put up with constant increases in their water bills! Septic systems are common for land owners, but they aren’t our style considering the government permitting. Also, we would have to maintain a leach field, which can be difficult to troubleshoot and manage without professional assistance when something goes wrong. So not ideal for us. Since we live in a camper, a black water tank would be an option. However, it wasn’t viable for living on the road in national forests. Even now, between hauling the weight of it, paying to empty it, and all the disgusting emptying videos available online, that’s out.
Converting to a composting toilet had been in the works for over a year before we hit the road and finally said goodbye to municipal sewage. I remember early in our dating, my now-husband had me watch a video about a homemade composting toilet. I remember how he pretended to be casual as he put it on for me. He cooked us dinner and scrutinized my reaction out of the corner of his eye. I was immediately intrigued! That video changed so much about my world view. I had felt for a long time that conventional toilets make no sense. But I never knew how to get out of that system. When it came time to move into the camper the choice was clear. We splurged and purchased a beautiful Nature’s Head composting toilet.
On the road with the composting toiletThe Nature’s Head toilet in our current home
Our Nature’s Head toilet is one of the more complex toilet designs. It works by separating the liquid and solid waste. So, it has a removable, 2-gallon jug for catching pee. Poop goes in a separate compartment and is mixed in to the peat moss with a foot pedal. This design is perfect for being on the road! I absolutely recommend it for traveling adults. The biggest advantage is that there’s nothing to do to prepare for travel days. Empty or full, it is completely secure and doesn’t add much weight. As far as emptying, when we were living in National Forests, we needed to dig a hole and bury the solid waste at least 6 inches below ground, according to USFS guidelines. While not a big deal, it’s not something we wanted to do all the time. Since pee is the bulk of the volume, having them separated meant we only had to bury the poo about once a month. It’s also legal to dump the solid waste into a trash bag and throw it away. But we never used that option. As for liquid waste, it’s completely legal and ethical to distribute the pee around a forest campground. This is the bulk of the volume, and needed emptying every couple of days. Especially when I was pregnant and peeing constantly. It’s simple, easy and really no big deal. In fact, dumping the pee before bed has been the reason I looked up at many incredible views of the stars I would otherwise have been too cozy and warm inside to bother venturing out for. And a perimeter of dumped pee is an effective way to mark territory and keep predators away.
Okay so now for the downsides of this design. One of them is that you have to aim. There’s only a small poo hatch, and even smaller holes to pee in. It isn’t always possible to be completely accurate, and that’s the only times it’s gotten a bit gross. You also have to pay attention to how full the pee jug gets, or it will overflow. We had to learn that the hard way…twice. Even though in practice using the toilet is simple, I’ve found that guests are intimidated by the instructions. This is a bigger problem being stationary than it ever was on the road. Anyone who visited us on the road brought their own toilet system or just went outside! Also, with potty training our child looming on the horizon I wasn’t sure how I’d ever succeed while needing them to separate liquid and solid waste. By the time we switched methods, the poo compartment had been allowed to get disgusting. Which was entirely our fault. When we switched to living in our winterized camper, Brandon never installed the fan. And, well, that really needs to be done. We were extremely busy and it would have required cutting a hole in the camper to vent outside. We got away with it for a while, but once it got full of wet solid waste that wasn’t mixing or composting properly, it really got bad. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
When we were on the road, it was so freeing to be able to dispose of our waste ourselves using the Nature’s Head toilet! The downsides I’ve discussed just weren’t an issue in that setting. But being stationary at the homestead, they started to seem worse. And so, Brandon researched other methods. I’m still shocked at the beautiful simplicity of what he found. He built our new composting toilet as simply a wooden box with a toilet seat on the top and a 5-gallon bucket inside. We put down an initial bed of pine shavings and no longer separate the liquid and solid waste. After doing our business, we toss another handful or two of shavings on the top. It’s so much simpler! Other improvements are that it’s a much larger hole, so aiming isn’t an issue. And, unlike our original toilet, it’s okay to put toilet paper into the bucket. Previously, we needed to have a trash can for toilet paper. So far, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how cleanly everything dumps out and the lack of any odor in the camper. When the bucket is getting full, we take it out to a very large hole on the property and dump it in. Since it needs to be emptied more often it’s fairly light and not difficult to haul over to our hole. Luckily, I haven’t noticed any bugs or stench when walking past. That hole already existed when we moved in, so it made sense to fill it up with the toilet compost. But once it is full, we may opt to pile the waste from the bucket above the ground. According to our research it will take a year to fully compost after we stop adding to it. We would need to make a fenced-in area somewhere out of the way for long-term decomposition, and eventually, we would have two piles. One to dump fresh buckets, and another that is finishing its composting process. That’s totally achievable if we choose to do that.
The new toilet design
The main downside of the new toilet is comfort. It’s too tall for me to sit on without my legs dangling, and the back of my legs press uncomfortably against the wooden edge of the box. I’m sure that those things can be modified, and eventually will be. But for now, at least I’m much less likely to waste time on the toilet scrolling on my phone! The only other thing is that removing the lid each time is annoying when I really have to go! I’m afraid that one day I’ll be in a hurry and forget to open it. But so far so good on that!
The positives of the new composting toilet far outweigh the downsides. I’m so happy that I took the leap and converted to this style of toilet. Do you think a composting toilet could work for you? Comment your thoughts below!
Year one of the Big Mountain Homestead adventure is in full swing! I spent the winter dreaming of springtime and the opportunity to kick building our life into high gear. Ever since the snow began to melt, my husband and I have been hard at work! It has been a beautiful few months of expansion and excitement. And serious exhaustion and overwhelm. The long days are full to the brim and fly by incredibly quickly.
Icicles and snow as the creek melted
We now have 20 animals! Most of them are chickens. We are also keeping a guinea hen, 3 ducks, a dairy cow, and a horse. All while raising up our baby son, learning to garden in a cold climate, and teaching our two former city dogs how to do farm life. For two people who didn’t grow up in this lifestyle it has been on an intense learning curve! There are still so many things I’d love to do, but I am really glad we waited on starting our house construction and getting the bees, pigs, meat rabbits and sheep that I dream of adding to the homestead. I’ve never worked this hard in my life! Sitting at a desk collecting a paycheck was easier. But putting in the work for a life outside of corrupt systems and in alignment with my values is worth it. Yet sometimes at the end of the day when I am too tired to brush my teeth, too tired to make the cookies I promised my husband, and generally too tired to take care of myself and my family the way I’d like to, it can put me in a bad mood. There’s no end to the things that need to be done, and I often feel like I didn’t do enough. And there are zero days off at this point. But I know those discouraged feelings are only temporary. Building and growing can be painful, which is totally okay. My daily lists always contain two or three times the number of things that can realistically be accomplished. But that has to be okay too. I am what I am. My husband and I have a running joke about everything being another, “high priority task”. As intense as it can be, I’m pleased to live a life where every night I head to bed completely spent, and with my mind bursting with more ideas and plans. We are building something incredible here together! It’s also really wonderful to step out of my front door each day and be immersed in the forest. I can instantly go on the kind of walks and hikes that I used to have to drive hours to find… when I can find the time.
Ducklings enjoying a swimRhode Island Red chick
One of the first things we did this spring was build a custom chicken coop so that we could get our chickens as soon as possible. We were so motivated that the foundation for the coop was up even before the ground had thawed. I absolutely love our design! It has a really cool old west saloon vibe, and the siding is made from wood planks that were already on the property. Brandon took care of designing and building it. I helped here and there, holding things up so he could nail them or check the level. Mainly, I provided the motivation by constantly saying we need chickens. We have a fenced run around it, but the plan is to free-range them once they are grown. Like so many new homesteaders, I couldn’t wait to run down to the local feed store and pick them out! We ended up with 3 Rhode Island Reds, 2 Amber Whites, and 2 Bantams. Since that initial pickup we’ve added 4 Delaware and 3 Peking ducks. And Brandon’s mom will be bringing us a couple birds from her flock in a week or so. We also briefly had a rooster. But he has escaped the pen and now free ranges in the state forest and all around the mountain. I hear him each morning crowing with the rising sun, and I hope he rejoins the flock soon. He cruises by now and then, but I have no idea how I’m going to catch him. The ducklings have made their transition into the flock and are doing really well. It is so funny to see how assertive they are, even on day one! I was concerned the hens would peck or bully them, but the ducklings actually chase the chickens around!
First brooder box
I am so happy that the ducks are out of the brooder box we had in the camper. The Delawares are still inside, but I am close to being done with raising baby birds this year, and I could not be more pleased about that! If you think raising a brooder box of chicks and ducks in an off-grid camper sounds like a nightmare, you’re absolutely right! A smelly, noisy nightmare. It is my dearest hope that I have some nice broody mamas. I want to be able to rely on the natural way for future chicks and ducklings. But I do love my flock! It is worth it. They are sweet and really easy to handle. I had very little experience with birds before this and was a bit freaked out at first. But it turns out they really like interacting with humans. They run right up to the fence whenever I approach and are getting into a smooth routine going back into the coop at night. It’s wonderful to be on this journey towards having our own source of eggs and eventually chicken meat. This is a main pillar of the self-sufficient food philosophy. We can sure eat dozens of eggs! And as our family grows, that will only increase.
The finished coop
Getting a dairy cow was also top of the list this spring. After I had brought home my Jersey, Charlotte, I found out that my great-grandma always said Jersey cows have the most difficult personalities, smallest teats for milking, and lowest milk yield. She only kept one Jersey for the high cream content but otherwise wouldn’t deal with them. As it turns out, that absolutely tracks with my experience. Those issues aside, Charlotte is a wonderful addition to the homestead. She is very friendly, loves to lick us with her long rough tongue, and she absolutely adores my baby son. She’s hilarious and playful, kicking up her heels in joyful bucks, jumping over logs in the pasture, and running up to the fence when delivery drivers arrive. However, she was very dramatic about being hobbled for milking. We didn’t want to do that (another thing my great-grandma said is that hobbling a Jersey changes the milk). So we started off hoping that a big bucket of grain would keep her still. But she would knock me over, trample me, slap me with her tail, and step into the milk bucket. Thankfully, my husband built us a proper milking stall called a stanchion. I was finally able to use it this week! The first try wasn’t a great experience. Without her legs tied, she stepped in the milk pail and spilled it repeatedly. She also kicked my dog in the head when she tried to lap up the spilled milk and stepped on my toe. It was a rough start, but throughout the week we’ve adjusted to the new system. Charlotte is definitely much happier now, and despite the fact that she still tries to step in the pail, things will likely improve even more from here. The milking processes can be an enjoyable, meditative experience when she is cooperating…
Charlotte in the stanchionCharlotte and Baby Bruce
Raw milk tastes so good! I also believe it is healthier and more nutritious than pasteurized milk. It makes me so happy to be able to provide that for my family. And this is only the beginning. I dream of fresh homemade butter, cheese, yogurt, and cooking with buttermilk. I have already taken a try at making butter! My first attempt definitely could have turned out better. It tasted good enough, but it wasn’t yellow like it should be. It also took an hour in the stand mixer, had a very short shelf life, and oozed buttermilk out. Since then, I’ve made two small batches by just shaking the milk up by hand in a mason jar. And those both turned out great! Sometimes, simple is best.
It has been a lifelong dream come true to have my horse on my property! Before settling down in Montana we were traveling so I had him in a large herd out in a pasture in Oregon. I thought he would love having an opportunity to be a horse and live with other horses and tons of space. Instead, he lost a scary amount of weight and developed a behavioral issue called cribbing. So, over the winter Brandon began constructing a paddock for him. We brought him home in late March, at the first opportunity to drive safely on the roads. I’m happy to say he is making great progress. I’ve even been able to get on him and ride him around the property. The experience of riding my horse on my own land filled my soul with the purest joy. We’ve been slowly clearing rocks and debris to create a riding area. As his condition improves, I’m sure I’ll focus more on developing that out.
One of the most daunting and yet gratifying attempts to move towards taking care of my animals myself has been trimming his hooves (I also intend to trim Charlotte). Since he doesn’t wear horse shoes, it makes it possible for me to do the maintenance without having to learn blacksmithing and buy even more expensive equipment. I’ve done one trim, and while I can’t say that the first attempt went perfectly, I am still determined to do this. Wielding the clippers and file is so much harder than it looks! I’ve watched farriers trim my horses for most of my life. But it is a whole different thing to jump into performing that myself! Despite the insecurity and the fear that comes up, I am happy to be pushing myself and learning such an important skill.
Planting flowers in a 5 gallon bucket
Another thing we jumped on before the snow had melted was clearing out a garden space. Bless our wonderful neighbors for all their help. Without them there may not have even been a garden this year. They let us use their machinery to level the frozen ground and dig holes for the fence posts. I am so grateful because to me there isn’t anything better than eating fresh from a garden. Now I’ve got spinach. I’ve got kale. I’ve got mustard greens, arugula, lettuce, and herbs all ready to go! I’ve planted peas, strawberries, onions, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, various beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant. I just planted an area to a fava bean cover crop, and plan to plant corn and potatoes next.
One of the early salad harvests from the gardenThe 10×20 greenhouse and outdoor garden
Someday I absolutely intend to build a beautiful glass greenhouse, but this year I needed to just install a plastic kit with raised beds inside. Brandon made a couple of the raised beds with our own wood, and those are by far my favorite ones! But this was before we got the sawmill, and so he was doing the milling with the chainsaw. Feeling pressure to get planting, we purchased some lumber. We also fenced in an area for an outdoor garden. It was a really fun process for me, as I got to see the Sho Shugi Ban technique for prolonging the life of our posts. My husband took trees from the property, removed the bark, burned the underground portion in the fire pit, and then coated the burnt ends with used hydraulic oil we got for free from the dump. The charcoal deters insects and even protects from rot! Now, we are set up with a deer fence that will be standing for many years to come. Along with the garden came the intense work of prepping the rocky mountain soil. This has been an experience in understanding the land I live on. The topsoil, which we also used to fill the raised beds, is a beautiful dark color indicating there’s organic matter there. However, it’s also heavy in clay and comes with rocks and sticks galore. The clay is great for water retention, but it is too dense. The soil cracks and becomes like cement between waterings. At this point I’m really not sure if my carrots will be able to produce anything underground. So, soil improvement will be a project of mine over the next several years! Luckily, I have all the compostable manure a girl could ever dream of!
Tummy time in the raised beds Shou Sugi Ban
I’m very proud of how our dogs have adjusted to this life! First of all, with so much room to run and explore off leash they don’t have pent up energy that turns into bad behaviors. Plus, we are with them so much that their training has progressed in leaps and bounds. They were fairly easy to show where the property borders are and generally respect them. After a little bit of drama initially, we have successfully introduced them to the horse and cow. They’d truly love to chase them, but they have pretty much cut that out. It’s been a little harder with the chickens. Mainly because they can’t defend themselves the way the larger animals can. Both my large dog, Lady, and the neighbor’s giant puppy have broken into the chicken run. And both of them were caught with the same chicken in their mouths. Underneath her wing, the skin was flayed back a few inches, and she was limping pathetically after the second attack. We thought she might not survive. But then, over the next few days, she healed up and is now by far our most badass and beloved bird. Oh, Lady was in so much trouble. She had to stay by our side and lost all her freedom privileges until she realized the birds are part of our farm and not chew toys. But she still gets up to no good. The most recent time she was caught in the pen she was just hanging out with them. They seemed completely unbothered by the intrusion. But it’s still against the rules. Obviously, predator proofing in the bird run leaves much to be desired. At some point, we may end up fortifying the fence somehow.
The dogs at the creek
Unfortunately, it hasn’t all been good luck. We have had two losses to contend with this spring. One of our Delaware chicks succumbed to “pasty butt” despite my efforts to keep her vent clean. And one of our guinea hens ate part of a plastic tarp and wasn’t able to pass it through her system. She died in my husband’s hands and so we honored her by butchering and eating her for dinner. She was delicious roasted on a bed of potatoes, onions, and mushrooms. I hope we can prevent those scenarios moving forward, but I also realize that these things happen when raising animals.
R2D2 the guinea hen cooked up
This spring Brandon also expanded our Renogy solar system! We pulled the four panels off of our Prowler camper and added them to the four we had stationary at the homestead. We were then able to reposition the solar panels to also get more sunlight on them, and rarely need to run the generator. On a sunny day we can get our large battery bank up to 100% and so I know we won’t need to supplement power as we move into summer and fall. The solar project led to repositioning the camper we live in, so now we have a front yard area when we walk out the door. I really like it! We’ve got buckets of beautiful flowers, benches, and so on.
Our home with expanded solar capabilities
Thankfully, it’s not all work work work here on the homestead. One of the best things about warm weather is day drinking and hanging out with friends. Before the snow had even fully melted, we invited a few of our friends over to play dominoes, barbeque, and drink in the sunshine. It was so much fun! We felt like we had done a lot to create a hangout area and get ready for guests. But after that day, we really got to work making our chilling spot even better! Brandon built some simple wooden benches, brought our propane grill out for the season, and built a fire pit with our cooking tripod grill over it. It’s the perfect place to set up our son’s playpen, sit down, and watch Charlotte and Kenobi in the nearby paddock. Another thing we do for fun is to enjoy spending time on our 20 acres! There’s a big ol’ mountain to hike with edibles to forage and a wonderful little creek to sit beside and splash in. The days we shirk our project goals and head down as a family to read by the creek have been some of my favorites this year. And guess what! The forest gifted us morel mushrooms. We were able to collect enough for two meals so far. Next year we can start the hunt even earlier since we have found numerous decayed ones. I’ve also found wild strawberries, yarrow, wild onions, dandelion, wild rose, and of course pine! This is also the second year I have started a dandelion mead fermentation in the spring. It’s a beautiful tradition that makes me so happy! I loved picking the flowers with my baby and hand making a drink that brings us plant and honey medicine as well as a nice fun buzz to welcome in the warm season. Plus, it tastes delicious! The fermentation went great, and I enjoyed it with my family by the creek on a recent warm afternoon.
Enjoying dandelion mead by the creek
It’s been such a whirlwind lately! But the air smells so good, the sound of the creek and the birds are so soothing, and life is extremely sweet. I am at peace with the knowledge that we are going to be hard at work every day until winter comes. It’s exciting to imagine the results considering how far we’ve come already! We need a cold storage cellar, to finish the siding on the first shed, build more sheds, clear underbrush, build trails and bridges, build a permanent house, develop our mead business, and infinite more projects that we come up with constantly. We have at least the next 20 years of work cut out for us! I can’t wait to share more with you as the warm seasons progress.
As my husband and I drove home it felt like a rite of passage. Not only is Charlotte my first cow, she’s the first farm animal purchased for the homestead! She is an adorable brown 3-year-old Jersey. When we went to pick her up, she had a sweet and curious temperament. She hopped right into the trailer following a bucket of grain, and away we went. I didn’t have a worry in the world and couldn’t have been more excited to start drinking my own fresh raw milk, make butter and cheese, and have a companion for my horse. I figured a cow and a horse must be similar to handle…
The plan was to simply put her in the pasture and allow her and my horse, Kenobi, to adjust to each other while we watched. We agreed we would intervene if necessary but otherwise let them figure it out. Well, as soon as she unloaded from the trailer the chaos began. Her owners had given us a rope to control her by the neck, which was really ineffective. I struggled against her as she plunged around the property, pulling me along through puddles and ice. She went to see Kenobi at the fence, graze, and generally check things out. With my four-month-old, Bruce, strapped to my chest in his baby carrier this didn’t seem ideal, so Brandon came and took over leading her to the pasture. I went to grab a jacket and had to push past our desperately barking dogs. They were freaking out to see the cow and jumping all over the furniture in a frenzy of joyous excitement. When I got back outside, I was informed that Charlotte had run right under the fence when released into the pasture! We were going to need to modify it fast.
The fence is a cool bit of bush crafting my husband designed and built. He used trees as the fence posts and tied logs between them for the rails. So, what happened was that he built the pasture with my 16-hand thoroughbred in mind. We were in a huge hurry to get Kenobi home so he stopped after one rail in several places. Although it had been working great for the horse, we definitely needed lower logs to keep in this cow. He handed me Charlotte’s lead rope and jumped in the car to enlist the help of our other neighbor and friend. Once again, I was being pulled all around the property as I strained against her and tried to convince her to just chill out. Bruce started crying so I decided to let her free feed at the haybale and hope she would stay there while I went inside the camper with him. And she did! It honestly seemed like Charlotte wanted to stick around. Watching through the window as I nursed Bruce, I saw that she wandered a bit, sometimes tasting plants, sometimes kicking up her heels and playing around, and sometimes watching the men as they returned and got to work as fast as possible to secure the fence. Luckily, logs are abundant here so there is plenty of material to work with! At one point I went back outside and kind of loitered around a while, but ultimately decided to get Charlotte a tub of grain to keep her occupied and then work on getting my baby down for a nap. Surely, it’d be fine…
All of a sudden, I realized it had been several minutes since I had heard the chainsaw, voices, or Charlotte’s moo. With Bruce once again in the carrier I went out into the ominous quiet. Nobody was around. Not Brandon, not our neighbor, and not Charlotte. I listened hard and heard them calling her name from within the nearby state park. She had apparently disappeared into the woods. As soon as I realized this, the weight of my stupidity sank in. Of course she wasn’t going to just stay put by herself! What was I thinking?! Obviously, she doesn’t know this property or us well enough to free range. Now I had lost my cow on the same day as purchasing her. As I joined the search I was almost panicking. My mind created countless scenarios of tragic and humiliating outcomes. There were some cow tracks, but nothing we were able to follow for long. And walking farther into the surrounding forest was made cumbersome by sinking in the snow. She could have been anywhere. When we returned, the two guys got in the truck and drove down to the main road. I stayed behind, noisily shaking a bucket of grain and continuing to call for her. They came back empty handed and I, too, was unsuccessful.
It snowed shortly after Charlotte came home.
Just as we were running out of daylight, Brandon was able to find her! He was on the ATV following intuition on acres of public land, and there she was. As relief washed over me, I saw the humor in my mistakes. And after all the animals were fed and taken care of, we spent the evening having a good laugh at our own expense.
Charlotte in her temporary stall.
So anyway, when we got Charlotte back, I did make a point to hang on to her rope until she was secured. There was no way to finish the fence that night so we improvised a stall for her outside the pasture. Why we didn’t think of doing this from the beginning is beyond me! It was fast and easy compared to rebuilding a whole fence. There she stayed for two nights while the fence was under construction. And that’s the (mis)adventure of my first few hours owning a cow! I’m happy to say I can now lead her around well with a standard nylon horse halter, and that I’m enjoying her vibe. She’s affectionate, has been willing to bond with everyone, and seems to really like the baby! We purchased her knowing that she was drying up and I would need to work on her milk production. It’s been a challenge navigating that process and learning to hand-milk. But overall, cow ownership has been a rewarding experience! I’m looking forward to sharing more about it as I continue!
It’s the beginning of March here in the mountains of western Montana. We have made it through our first winter entirely off-grid! The experience of over four months of snow, ice, and temperatures well below 0oF have turned what at first seemed like a daunting task into a magical season well worth the efforts required. I even gave birth to our first baby in the depths of winter right in our camper home. Even as the snow and cold temperatures continue, I feel the Earth waking up from her winter slumber. Spring is here! And while the increased daylight hours bring a fresh, vibrant energy to the frozen landscape of our homestead dream, it seems like the perfect time to reflect on the successes and challenges of the winter season!
When my husband and I moved onto 20 acres of mountain forest land in early October, it was just a couple of weeks before the first snowfall. I was 6 months pregnant and people thought we were crazy to take on the task of staying on our new property this winter. It was a big change of plans from our original idea of following the warmth to Florida, and as a born and raised California girl I had never experienced much in terms of winter weather. I really had no idea what to expect! So first and foremost, the issue of what type of structure to live in loomed before us. Would we be able to get this done in time? We needed something cheap that we could get ready fast. It also had to be able to last us the years it could take to design and build our permanent earthen home. We looked at sheds, but with having to insulate and build all interior necessities from the ground up we felt buying a used travel trailer made more sense. We landed on a 2009 Keystone Cougar with the “polar package”. The term polar package is actually upsetting to me because it’s an utterly meaningless marketing ploy. You’re not going to be doing anything even remotely hardcore without major modifications. A simple internet search on the subject will show you dozens of stories of winter camping trips gone wrong. But the insulation in the walls is decent and the water tank is enclosed. Still, we had major work to do before this thing would be winter capable. We went for it and I am so glad we took that leap! We had challenges and learned some lessons the hard way, but through diligent effort we’ve been warm and cozy inside.
The dogs love the snow!Massively pregnant, hiking the property shortly after the first snows
Reenforcing the insulation was our number one priority. We needed to skirt the camper to prevent cold air from coming up from the open space between the camper and the ground. A major investment was in 2-inch foam board which lines the entire exterior, going a foot or two up the camper siding. This is taped on with heat absorbing tape. But we still needed more insulation. We were able to find a guy whose straw bales had gotten wet, so we got a killer deal on several of those. They are placed around the outside of the foam board and also broken down and stuffed underneath both staircases. The final piece of insulation was redoing the weather stripping around both doors. It took way longer than I’m proud of for us to bother doing it, but made a huge difference of course! We’ve also found that keeping the window shades drawn down on cold nights seems to noticeably decrease how often the furnace kicks on. They’re just the shades that came with it and don’t appear to be anything special.
Straw bale skirt before the snows startedFoam board peeking out from behind the straw
Next up was the decision to invest in a good wood burning stove. There’s nothing like the ambiance and the quality of warmth created by a fire. It makes the space feel like a home, and speaks to something deep in our ancient human DNA. I absolutely love how it enhances the winter season and do consider ours an essential! In practical terms without this we would have spent a (larger) fortune on propane and likely would still have had some pretty chilly times where the furnace wouldn’t have been able to keep up in the extremely cold times. With the wood stove we relax in comfort at night. Sometimes it’s even too hot! When that happens, it gives us opportunity to open windows and refresh the inside air. The main downside to the wood stove is that we had to get a very small one. It can feel that in order to keep a fire burning we are tethered to the camper on constant wood chopping and fireplace loading duty. More wood needs to be placed every 30-45 minutes! And they have to be quite small chunks. Of course, not everyone needs to maintain a cozy internal temperature all day every day no matter the outside temperature. We have chosen to do this work because it provides comfort for myself, our baby, and our dogs, as we are inside most of the time this season. We also ferment small artisan batches of mead which require a consistent warmth. On the coldest nights my husband has even chosen to stay up late into the night to maintain the fire and keep propane use lower. The initial investment in our stove (from www.tinywoodstoves.com) was about $2,000 which is one of our biggest investments. But it was worth it to me as it will provide all this for many years. All our firewood comes from existing dead trees on our property. So, there’s no cost to operation apart from chainsaw fuel. Installation took about half a day for my husband, who has a lot of experience in this arena. He needed to cut down the coat closet to make enough clearance for the stove, and then cut a hole in the roof for the exhaust pipe. All in the middle of a snowstorm! When planning the location of your stove keep in mind this pipe will have to be cleaned very frequently. So if you can do a side exhaust out one of the walls that’s a good option. It’s a little sketchy having my husband up on a ladder in all kinds of weather scrubbing it out. But so far so good!
Matching jammies in front of the wood stove!
The third pillar of winter survival is the propane furnace. Its main job is to keep the water tank from freezing. I was surprised to learn that for the water it actually doesn’t matter what the trailer interior temperature is. The furnace needs to run to warm the undercarriage where the tanks are. All the skirting insulation work is key for keeping that heat around! We bought a digital thermometer at the hardware store and were able to drop the probe down beneath the floor to monitor the temperature shifts in the undercarriage. This brings me to the tale of the frozen Solstice of December 21st. I spent a lovely afternoon making and delivering fudge to our neighbors for the darkest night of the year, which would also be the coldest at -30F. That night when the fire died out, we went to bed with the furnace set to 55F and a fresh tank of propane hooked up. Unfortunately, the furnace failed to click on. Cuddled up under our comfy blankets it took until the camper interior was 36F for us to get cold enough to wake up. By then the undercarriage was 0 degrees, and the water was frozen. There was nothing we could do but wait for it to thaw once warmer temperatures returned. I am so thankful that we have a system of keeping three 5-gallon buckets of water for drinking inside the camper. We store them in the shower and use them up during the week. We knew the really cold weather was coming, and made sure to have them filled up. Speaking of which it’s also a good idea to shower right before any major weather system hits! We were without water to shower with for Christmas four days later, but because we had showered before the tank froze we were still more or less presentable at our friend’s Christmas party…at least according to our current standards of cleanliness! Little did we know, that night also froze and broke the ammonia line for our RV fridge. A slow leak occurred over the next few days and late on Christmas Eve, in the midst of merriment, food and games with our neighbors, we discovered that the fridge was totally incapacitated. It was such a bummer! The water tank was still frozen and now this.
Christmas Eve family photos!Icicles form on the trailer exterior
Admittedly winter is the best time of year to have something like a fridge failure. But it’s still not any fun. A lot of things were fine outside, but for example, the fresh veggies and milk didn’t like it at all! The typical RV refrigerator runs off of propane and refrigerant gasses including ammonia. We found out after the fact that it’s common for that type of fridge to fail and break in extreme cold. They just aren’t hearty enough and in my opinion shouldn’t be used in any RV claiming to be designed for the cold. The replacement parts for repair were shockingly expensive so we opted to pay a little more and upgrade to a direct current compressor fridge. Which means it runs off of electricity instead of propane. I highly recommend it since in my experience, when the compressor can’t handle the cold, it freezes up but can be warmed with a hair dryer and doesn’t damage the system. Another cool bonus is that we got an additional 4 cubic feet of fridge space in the same spot! This has to do with the extra room created in the back of the fridge hole with an electrical setup. It’s a beast of a fridge that at 10 cubic feet is almost as large as in a house! It’s definitely in the running for my favorite upgrade! So of course the downside is that it runs off of the battery power. Fortunately, we went for a really robust battery system that can handle that output. We have two deep cycle AGM 12V 200Ah batteries (www.renogy.com). For the winter we haven’t been able to get any significant solar. We run our generator daily to keep up with the electrical use. We were doing that even before the DC fridge, and didn’t want to add much electrical draw. Turns out that by changing all the lightbulbs to LED we are actually at a net neutral in energy use versus before the upgrade. I was shocked at how wasteful the original bulbs were. Now the quality of lighting is so much brighter, and without the heat offput. It didn’t even require any rewiring. Wins on all fronts!
Warming up the compressor with a hairdryer we otherwise never use…
Personally, the biggest challenge and annoyance I encountered this year has been the condensation! Because of the difference between our cozy inside temperature and the wintery outside, as soon as we moved in water began dripping down the walls, the windows, and even the insides of the cabinets! I have several water damaged books, and I haven’t been able to use the closet because the clothes get damp. On the very cold nights, there are places where ice forms in the corners of the inside walls. This happens next to my bed, one spot in the corner behind the table cushion, and on the inside of the windows- just above the level of the insulation foam outside. Our pillows even froze to the back wall! We put up foam board inside behind the bed to shield us from that. However, I’m thinking that there’s probably mold growing behind it. Installing the wood stove really helped dry the air inside and stopped the drips down the walls. At least it made things livable. But it did not solve the cabinet/closet issue, and the windows remain fogged up most of the time. These are projects to solve for next year.
Having been invited to sink deep into seasonal and postpartum rest by the long nights and frozen ground, I’ve deeply enjoyed the many days spent managing a fire, bouncing my baby, and watching the snow swirl outside the giant window (that has no business in a camper supposedly designed for cold). It hasn’t always been easy, but the challenges have been well worth the effort needed to overcome them! I’m already excited to do even better next year, and for the adventure having a 1-year-old will add.
Me and my newborn son getting some of that crisp fresh mountain air!
Let me know what you think in the comments below. I’d love to hear your thoughts, experiences, and off-grid dreams!
My son Bruce was born on December 3rd, 2022 at 10:15am at 38 weeks gestation. We were attended only by his father and our three dogs. I gave birth in the off-grid travel trailer we call home, parked on our homestead in the forested mountains of north western Montana. The morning sun reflected the bright white of a thick layer of snow, and a cheerful blue sky welcomed him to Earth.
The night of December 2nd I went for a walk around our property. I remember taking slow small steps and needing to stop frequently. I would sway with my hands on my knees while feeling tightness in my womb. I walked into the camper holding my belly up with my hands. That was providing immense relief and I commented to my husband how heavy it felt. “Is the baby coming?” he asked. I responded probably not. If there was one thing I wasn’t going to do, it was exhaust myself with the cycle of false hope and disappointment that can come from anticipating a baby’s arrival. But as it turns out I’d already been in labor at least a day. The previous forty-eight hours or so I’d been leaking a little fluid when I would sneeze or fart, and had slowed way down on my homesteading projects in favor of rest. At the time I laughed it off, as I had been experiencing a juicy abundance of cervical fluid the entire third trimester of my pregnancy. And, there’s a ton of memes out there talking about being exhausted and dragging around a heavy belly as a pregnant mama approaching forty weeks. Anyway, on the 2nd, our neighbors called and invited us to a popcorn party the following day with the group of us who live on the mountain. I was in enough denial at that point to accept the invite. Spoiler alert, I would be asleep with my baby on my chest and a box of pizza in my lap by the time of the party the next day.
Around 9pm while I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, I released a larger gush of water. I went into the bathroom to grab a towel and try to pee. I didn’t see my mucus plug or any bloody show, so I figured this might not indicate anything. I was sitting on the toilet leaning my head against the wall when my husband again asked if I was in labor. He received a lecture from me about how waters can leak for days or reseal so it still could be days or weeks. I got into bed and started journaling. By the time I had finished I had gone through two more hand towels and was going to sleep with one in between my legs that night. I remember writing that I might be in labor, and messaged a friend of mine who was also close to the birthing portal. I tucked myself into bed, excited but still in denial that this was really happening. I had been convinced that I would carry to at least 40 weeks and was prepared to exceed 42. In fact, I had been so sure of it that I hadn’t even done the maternity photoshoot I had purchased a gown for. I hadn’t acquired even one waterproof covering for any of our furniture, didn’t have a stack of clean towels, or my birth playlist, or a cord clamp. And I definitely hadn’t prepped any meals for postpartum. I had plans to start that work when we went to the city for my birthday dinner and shopping excursion on December 4th. When I went into labor the propane tanks needed swapping out, the grey water was full, and the fresh water was declaring empty. Luckily the fresh water tank shows “E” with several gallons still in the tank and we had enough water that it was not an issue during the birth.
After a period of tossing and turning, at 1:30am I got out of bed. I realized my discomfort was going to make it impossible to sleep. My dogs gazed at me with semi-reproachful curiosity from their beds as I disturbed their slumber. I was in a dreamy headspace. The fact that I didn’t have supplies was far from my mind, and the notion that these sensations were contractions and I needed to prep my birth space came to me intuitively and without conscious thought. Feeling serene and focused as I warmed up my nettle tea, I just began to do it. I lit the candle and incense on my altar, and began to clear off the dining table- convertible bed where I planned to give birth. Living with so little counter space we had all manner of this and that on the table, including clean dishes set out to dry. I had my affirmation art cards hung up on a lighted string over the table and was content and happy with my chosen space. Around 3am, after struggling for a minute to remove the table top, I woke my husband, Brandon, up to help me. I offered to let him go back to bed and wake him up again when I thought I really needed him for the birth, but he opted instead to build a fire and change the propane tanks so he knew we’d be warm and comfortable.
I was beginning to play with vocalizing through the contractions, and it really helped me get into a rhythm with them. I was also experimenting with positioning my body. I’d go from being on hands and knees on the bed, to standing up hanging on the ledge of the pop out, to being on my knees next to the bed and draping my arms across it. It felt good to slowly move my body, but I had zero desire to go for a walk or move far from my little nest. My male Pitbull, Rocky, was sticking super close to me at this point and after tripping over him a couple times in the narrow walkway, my husband had to tell him to go lay down in his bed. Apart from that, the dogs didn’t interact with me or get out of bed until my son was born. Although out of my sight, they were only a few feet away and I’m sure keeping a close watch over me. As labor proceeded into the early hours of the morning the contractions never stopped or slowed down. They continued relentlessly as they ramped up in intensity and moved closer together. With this came the most intense pain I’ve ever dealt with for an extended time. It was pain that tested my trust in the strength and endurance of my body beyond anything I had prepared for. “I just need a break. Please. Just a short break, don’t let them come again right now” I remember pleading to nobody in particular when I felt a contraction beginning to build. I felt an almost panicked desperation when I knew it was about to come. And still they built more intense and closer. I was roaring like a truly wild animal and was fully in my primal brain. My conscious mind and along with it all worry and fear were gone.
I quickly found that laying on my side during labor was not for me. The pain was excruciating when I tried it. I had to immediately get my husband to help me back into standing both times. While riding the waves on my knees on a pillow by the bed my waters fully released in a satisfying rush. Shortly after, needing to find a way to rest, I dropped to the floor and laid down on my back. I was getting so tired and yet the night was still in full darkness. It hadn’t been more than a few hours. My husband put a pillow behind my head and I rode out some contractions there until the hard cold floor began to be too much. Looking up I saw our bed down the tiny corridor. I had him help get me there, even though my intention had been to keep that as a clean space and not labor on it. On the bed I finally found the comfort I had been looking for. Laying on my back I was able to close my eyes and drift into a semi sleep state between contractions. My consciousness was traveling the astral realms and I again was fully in my body. At one point I became aware that I was lifting my shoulders up off the bed into a crunch or sit-up position and pushing as a contraction would hit. So that was how I did the bulk of my pushing work, in a space where time did not exist for me. In the dark my husband was sitting on the edge of the bed subtly timing my contractions for his own information and never telling me what the spacing was. Despite the pain, I got the rest I had been so desperate for. I roared my baby down through my birth canal. It was all instinctive. Giving birth is coded in my DNA and in the ancient ancestral knowing that is my birthright as a woman.
Then, all at once my conscious mind returned to me. I felt mildly refreshed and I needed to go to the bathroom. I hobbled over to our composting toilet and sat down, very glad that everything in the camper is close together! I remember sitting there, again leaning my head against the wall, and it was in that moment that some fear returned. I verbalized to my husband feeling that I couldn’t do it if it took much longer. I was afraid of the unknown length of the road still ahead. I was afraid because I hadn’t felt my baby move since labor had begun. I was terrified of stillbirth and of my baby being born needing emergency care. Although he later let me know that he was unnerved by my words, he demonstrated deep strength and wisdom and did not let on. Kneeling down in front of the toilet he reassured me that everything was exactly as it should be. He reminded me of my mantras and together we repeated “I trust the process” and “I release control” among others. He then asked me if I felt like I needed to poop, to which I responded that it felt like I had had a dingleberry for a super long time, but wouldn’t be able to get it out. I never confirmed if this was true, although at one point later he did nonchalantly wipe my butthole. As I sat on the toilet, I instinctively reached up inside myself and felt the top of my baby’s head. It was a magical moment and a huge relief! It felt so soft, small, and round. This experience infused me with a fresh burst of energy and I suddenly knew that I absolutely could do it and would do it. I was going to push my baby out! Not wanting to give birth on the toilet I got up and went back to my birthing space.
I looked out the window and was in a daze, blinking at the snow-covered pine trees in the dazzling golden morning sun. I got on the converted bed on my hands and knees and began to consciously push with each contraction, knowing it wouldn’t be long now. As I had throughout labor, I called for my husband’s hand to squeeze at the height of the sensations. He had also been in charge of encouraging me to drink water, and being hydrated was a huge asset by this point. I felt my baby’s head press against the opening of my vagina and almost emerge. Then it would get sucked back up inside me when the contraction was finished. This happened several times and each time I was struck by how far back up it would go. I could feel his head coming out slightly more each time and stretching my opening. I tried so hard to push it out. I felt like I just needed another second or two, but then the contraction would end. I was getting exhausted. My arms ached from supporting my upper body and I started to let my face press down into the cushions and close my eyes between contractions. The pain had lessened during the excitement after feeling his head, but it all came rushing back now.
I thought I might throw up. I dry heaved over a bowl and instantly regretted it due to a flap of skin choking me. It would go on to be a real burr under my saddle in my healing process, bothering me during every cough and making simple things like spitting out toothpaste an ordeal. I think it was the result of how much I was vocalizing. But anyway, remembering how well being on my back had worked earlier, I flipped over and began to push that way again. I asked my husband what he saw during a contraction. He positioned himself between my legs and with tears in his eyes confirmed he saw the head. His excitement gave me strength as he built me up with positive words of how well I was doing and that our baby was almost here! At this point I was fully in my conscious brain and pushing with all my might, still screaming and roaring my power and my frustration to the world. Finally, the moment came where when I pushed his head emerged. I didn’t feel a ring of fire, I think because of how many times his head had come down and stretched my opening, barely short of the amount necessary. Bruce took his first breath, and my husband joyfully reported that he was indeed alive. I had been holding on to and suppressing some anxiety surrounding the birth outcome, and in that moment felt overwhelming ecstatic relief. It was absolutely one of the best moments of my life so far.
Suddenly the pain intensified, completely catching me off guard. I thought the head was supposed to be the most painful part! But the time waiting for my next contraction was more painful than his head’s emergence. I wiggled and squirmed in agony and even pushed without a contraction because I so badly wanted his body out. That did not work. So, after a couple contraction cycles, I asked my husband again what he saw. He could see his whole head and his hand. Bruce had actually grabbed Brandon’s finger while he was still inside me! The hand being up there definitely explained the pain. Finally, on what was perhaps the third contraction after head emergence, the rest of my son’s perfect little body came sliding out into his dad’s hands. There was a gush of blood and a few large blood clots that followed his body and anointed one of our table cushions. My husband checked the gender and proudly passed our baby boy Bruce up to me. I placed him on my chest, smelling, kissing and loving on him while I also did the work of inspecting him.
Inspecting my brand new baby
Bruce was born a little bit blue and we needed to get him covered so he could share my body heat effectively and warm up. My husband grabbed my bath towel that we had been using in the labor and quickly placed it over us before he went to grab a cozier throw blanket. Once we were snuggling in our post-birth bliss my husband and I were able to see that the blue was rapidly pinking up and his ability to absorb oxygen was totally fine. As was his overall alertness and responsiveness. Over the next few minutes, we watched the color improve on his entire vernix coated body, from his head down to his little feet. He had some congestion which we chose to allow him to work through naturally as it did not seem to be interfering with his breathing in any significant way. He cried a little bit and suckled for a few seconds before falling into a peaceful sleep. I would have preferred for him to nurse more, but I chose not to disturb him. I squeezed my breast a little bit out of curiosity and saw the beads of colostrum form on my nipples. Later on, before we figured out feeding and latching properly, I would use that technique to entice him to try to eat. The Golden Halo of two hours post-birth is a truly special experience. During that time the divine Goddess within me completed my transformation from Maiden to Mother as I soaked in my journey through the birth portal.
As much as I wanted to crawl into bed, after about forty-five minutes my husband reminded me that I still needed to birth my placenta. The last thing I wanted to do was get up and push anything else out of my vagina. But, knowing that I was not done with my birth process yet, he grabbed my large blue ceramic serving bowl and I positioned myself over it. He held Bruce and tried to assist me in keeping the cord from yanking tight while I got into position. It’s hard to describe the strange sensation of the spongey white umbilical cord still in my body and attached to my baby. I had been hoping the placenta would just plop out like I’ve heard on some birth stories, but it definitely did not. I hovered above the bowl waiting for a contraction. At that point I really hadn’t gotten the uncomfortable cramping sensations that I had been expecting. Oh well. I figured I’d try again in a little while. As I was settling back onto the cushions our neighbors unexpectedly showed up. What had happened was before I went into labor Brandon had been trying to move a wooden foundation slab but couldn’t do it himself. He had asked them to come help him when they could. So, with me completely naked, placenta still attached, covered in blood and various birth juices we welcomed our new friends into our home and proudly showed off our very brand-new baby boy who was asleep on my chest. I had been so protective of my birth plan, insisting on no visitors and had not invited anyone to the birth. This development was entirely unexpected. But there I was, making semi awkward small talk with a young woman who I’d only met very briefly twice before.
After a while I realized I needed to work on my placenta again. At that point it had been over three hours since the birth. In addition to the concerns of a retained placenta, having it inside me and the cold umbilical cord still between my legs was increasingly uncomfortable. Deciding I couldn’t afford to be self-conscious; I asked my neighbor to hold Bruce so I could squat over the bowl and attempt to get it done. By the time Brandon was back in the camper and my placenta was still not out, I made the decision that I wanted to cut the cord to give myself more freedom of movement. But what were we going to clamp or tie it off with? We had not prepared for this. Our neighbors offered to go get a brand-new pair of shoelaces that were a decent thickness for the job. A few minutes later my husband very tightly tied off the cord and we snipped it with a regular pair of scissors, sanitized with rubbing alcohol. By that point I was also beginning to feel like Bruce really needed to nurse again. He was still sleeping peacefully and uninterested in latching. So first I worked on my placenta. I thanked her, I squatted over the bowl and I pushed. This only resulted in me bleeding and peeing in the bowl. I massaged my womb, I pulled gently on the cord, and I walked around. The cord was dangling out of me and swinging around, dripping blood into the bowl and onto the floor. I moved my hips in circles. Nothing happened.
Bruce with his shoelace cord tie
Time was moving fast by this point and I was getting concerned. I knew that I was not about to go to the hospital and get it scrapped out of me. They would also likely pressure me with antibiotics, Pitocin, and hassle me with other unnecessary bullshit. I began to fantasize about just leaving it in forever. But I knew it was necessary for me to take responsibility and get it out. I reviewed a post by Emilee Saldaya of Freebirth Society about the placenta and was reassured that what I really needed to do was be determined and focused. I realized I was holding on to hesitation because I really was afraid to push anything else out of my vagina. Also, my birth process had been interrupted by the neighbor visit, dragging me into conscious reality. Armed with that knowledge I attempted again to get my sleeping baby to nurse. When that failed, I gave him to my husband for skin-to-skin bonding and went into the bathroom. I was completely set on only exiting the bathroom with the placenta in the bowl. I sat down on the toilet, again thanking my placenta for nourishing my baby. I again began to push while pulling the cord with increasing tension. I would feel it stretch and then I would back off the pulling, being careful not to do anything that could lead to it snapping. I rubbed my abdomen and rolled my hips in circles. I still wasn’t experiencing any contractions. After a while instead of pushing I focused on full body relaxation. I visualized the placenta moving down while continuing to apply traction on the cord. I finally began to feel some progress and eventually I could reach inside myself and feel the placenta in my vaginal canal. What a welcome relief! I took a deep breath and tried not to tense up as I pulled her down to my very swollen opening. I gave a gentle and slow push and the placenta squeezed out and landed right in the composting toilet. Wahoo! It may have taken six hours, but my placenta was out and I was finished giving birth! I stood up and a stream of blood came out of me. I evaluated myself for any weakness or dizziness. Well, I did feel weak in the legs and completely exhausted but I decided that was totally justified considering the circumstances.
My placenta was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I stared at her in awe, my eyes following the three veins that form the tree of life and appreciating the way the amniotic sac still clung on. She was large, meaty, purplish in color and definitely more edible looking than I expected. My plan had been to keep an open mind on the idea of eating my placenta, particularly if I had lost a lot of blood or felt depleted. With her in the toilet that was no longer on my list of options. I inspected her for wholeness, and was satisfied that there weren’t any pieces missing. Although, five days into postpartum recovery, as I was gingerly applying warm compresses to my yoni, out came a blood clot with a piece of what appeared to be placenta attached to it. This was an unnerving development! But it had come out and that was a good thing. I didn’t have a fever and my healing was going great so I decided to try not to worry. I made sure I kept up with the warm compressing and no further pieces ever came out. I gently picked her up and deposited her in the bowl.
Proud and euphoric I crawled onto the converted bed and my husband put little Bruce back on my chest. I’m not sure who suggested it, but the plan became that he would go get us a pizza while I rested. I tend to mark important life events this way. He helped me get Bruce lined up and secure our very first true latch. I nursed and cuddled my little boy in complete bliss. After the pizza arrived my husband asked if I would be okay if he went over to the popcorn party at the neighbors for a little while. He thrives on social interaction and community building, and I wasn’t really ready to move yet anyway so I was fine with it. He turned on the water heater to begin the warming up process, refilled my water bottle, and left the camper as I drifted into a deep sleep. At one point I woke up and realized my last piece of pizza had slid off my lap and onto the floor. I reached down and grabbed that little sucker and ate it anyway, then fell back asleep. When he got home about two hours later, I was definitely ready for a shower and a more comfortable bed. Bruce got some more daddy bonding time and I took a piping hot RV shower. In the tiny space I used the full six gallons available to me to wash myself clean with Dr. Bronners baby unscented castile soap and check out the state of my lady bits. I was really happy to find that I hadn’t torn at all! It felt like there was a minor abrasion on my right inner labia, indicated by a very mild pain when I would pee. Despite the fact that I was definitely swollen, I felt myself to have come through the sacred birth portal in near perfect condition. I intend to write in detail about my experiences postpartum. There is a lot to say about off-grid healing, early mothering for the first time, co-sleeping, breastfeeding, and elimination communication. But those are topics for another day.
I finished my shower, retrieved my baby from his father, and snuggled into bed with them both as a happy and contented family of three. Our bed does not have a full walk around, so even though that caused me a lot of irritation in late pregnancy it felt really safe for the start of my co-sleeping journey. Even so, I set up an intricate system of safety pillows. I spent that night and well into the next day drifting in and out of sleep. I would rest my hand on his little chest to feel the rhythm of his breathing. I lay there in sheer happiness, absorbing how my life would never be the same. No longer a maiden, I had become a mother and my life’s most important work was just beginning to unfold.
We are here on this property for two main reasons. The first is to provide a safe place for friends and family to gather in an extreme emergency. The second is to live in true stewardship with the land as a part of nature; not separate from it.
To be prepared to provide sustenance and shelter regardless of outside circumstances. This is solely contingent on our capabilities of self-reliance. We will learn enough to be able to live in abundance off of our land, with the expertise to train others to do the same. This demands adaptability and being able to modify quickly and use setbacks as an opportunity to fine tune our systems.
To develop deep connection to the land as we live in harmony with the cycle of the seasons. This means to sustain ourselves through foraging, hunting, animal raising and gardening in mutual benefit. We will give more than we take and design our systems to support optimal ecosystem function. This requires an awareness of soil microbiota, water and air quality, species diversity, and many other aspects of balance and mutual respect.
To be self-sufficient is to fully reject the harmful systems of society. We will thrive outside the clutches of the banks, provide our own healthcare, and schooling. Rejecting these is to reject the fear and anxiety these systems instill from birth. We will live off-grid without government interference. Entrepreneurship is our ideal means of generating income to make purchases beyond what our land can provide. Self-sufficiency also means building our own home, bush crafting, upcycling used material, and tinkering in better ways to live such as HHO generation.
To live in full experience of the divine feminine energies in tending to my home and family. I will conceive, freebirth and raise my children in wildness and sovereignty. I will raise humans who have practical life skills and are connected to the power of their mammalian instincts and inner knowing. In full commitment to openess and trust I will allow my husband to exhibit his form of masculinity and caretaking.
To model a level of freedom many people don’t believe is possible. Neither of us were raised in this lifestyle and our success is an example of what is possible for anyone who desires this way of life. We will support and develop a strong community.
To be resilient and hardy. To be strong and capable. To be well-rounded as we also cultivate expertise.
To be well-regulated and militia ready with firearms within our family and community.
