Tag: personal narrative

  • Spring Scramble

    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 swim
    Rhode 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 stanchion
    Charlotte 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 garden
    The 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.

  • Origin Story

    Origin Story

    When I first felt it, I tried to write it off as burnout. I wanted to believe that what I needed was a vacation, a good cry, and a drink. That wasn’t the case. The life I’d built for myself was no longer in alignment with my core values. Even though I had a deep knowing that the yearning I felt wasn’t going anywhere, my excitement was mixed with confusion. How could my perspective on my life change so completely this fast? The way I wanted to live and raise my family was suddenly the opposite of what I’d been putting my resources and effort towards for over a decade. My worldview had shifted dramatically in 2020 and 2021. In the final months of 2021, binge listening to rewilding, homesteading, herbalism and freebirth podcasts at my desk had me feverishly examining my options. The stories of other people, real people, living the way I someday hoped to were now at the forefront of my consciousness. I was suddenly convinced that it couldn’t wait for someday.

    Me at my UC Davis graduation

    Looking back, this journey actually began with deciding to attend U.C. Davis for college. My parents were both successful professionals, and my only acceptable path was to go to college and then pop onto the hamster wheel of a career path with clear advancement opportunities.  Which is exactly what I did. I left Orange County, California and followed my love of horses to Davis to ride on their equestrian team and pursue a winemaking degree, which was in the college of Agricultural and Environmental Sciences. I had chosen to leave the city lifestyle I had always known and take my most rural option.  At that time this was my radical leap into wildness. People at Davis kept their horses in pastures and paddocks, not the 12ftx12ft stalls I was used to. We went on trail rides, swimming with our horses in the local creeks. We galloped through fields and jumped over logs. This was unprecedented in my world. And the equestrian culture was only the beginning. I lived in a dorm that was across the street from a cow pasture, and I was surrounded by more open space than I’d ever had access to. It was also my introduction to outdoor adventure culture. I met avid campers, hikers, and plant scientists. I went to farmer’s markets, rode my bike, and had classes outside in the student vineyards. The first years there were spent in personal growth and bliss. Then the lessons I was being taught started to sink in. I learned that agriculture is not nature, and how many problems there are with monoculture, land use, and conventional farming inputs and practices. But it was easy enough to put all that into the outskirts of my consciousness, at least at that time.

    A ride through the creek in college.

    After graduation I built a career in the wine industry that set me up for success within the systems of our society. I started out working at a small winery but found that the hours were long and the work physically grueling for low pay and without any viable advancement opportunities. So, I left and compromised my vision of working outside of an office for an easier and bigger paycheck. Once I had established myself in the California corporate wine sphere, I bought a house with a 30-year mortgage, paid for all the proper insurances, contributed to my 401k, bought into the Stock Market, went to the doctor, financed vacations and home improvements on credit cards, had car payments, and was prepared to pay for someone else to raise my children while I was at work. I believed I could snuggle up into the corporate fold like nestling into a cozy blanket and be safe. But I was never actually able to convince myself to feel safe. I was deeply anxious and insecure. What if I lost my job? What if the parent company shut down the winery I worked at? And a dozen other scenarios along those lines. My life felt outside of my control. I had a lot of financial obligations and understood that if I didn’t make payments the Bank would take my house. I was a few mistakes away from losing everything. It wasn’t truly mine. Plus, I sensed that selling the majority of my time to make a corporation money wasn’t my highest calling. Underneath it all I remembered that conventional agriculture is ruining our health and the planet. And I remembered that I was at my happiest pushing the boundaries of my personal relationship to the wild Earth. But then again, I had a wonderful job that paid me well and respected me and my work. I have to admit to loving so much of the day-to-day fun of being an up-and-coming corporate fat cat.  And I love winemaking! Walking the line between science and art, tasting wine every day, and being involved in a fast growing and innovative production plant was really fun! Even working in an office was stimulating in that it had introduced me to so many people and ideas. Listening to them share their varied life experiences expanded my world view. Still, I sensed that selling the majority of my time to make a corporation money wasn’t my highest calling. I would sit in my small backyard in a tiny cul-de-sac listening to the noise of the busy streets and feel discontent. My heart yearned for nature.

    Representing the winery at Zinfandel Advocates and Producers tasting event

    Then COVID hit. Like so many people, I experienced profound change at the hands of the pandemic. For me it lit a fire under my ass and propelled me out of my corporate haze. I remember the first day I worked from home. Spring is a beautiful time of year in Sacramento, where I lived. The warm rays of sunshine were dancing in a cloudless blue sky.  I gathered my supplies and set up a work station on my backyard patio. I spent time outside and felt joy. Over time, my nervous system started to relax. I was living in an energetic state that I hadn’t accessed in a decade. Working from home also opened up a reality where I could actually balance my work and personal lives. I had a successful pesticide free garden because I had time to manually remove and squash all the aphids that had infested everything years prior. I started drying and processing the herbs and peppers I was growing into tea and spices. I was able to keep a clean house, and got into a routine of stretching and meditating. My houseplants finally lived. And most importantly, I came to realize just how much pleasure and purpose working my garden and tending to home life gave me. I started to question sending my future kids to daycare. I started to question having all these expensive and stressful overhead costs. I was questioning my entire way of life and viewing modern society as a house of cards on the brink of collapse. Our food systems are poisonous, inhumane, and in jeopardy. Our government is both incompetent and corruptly placed in the pockets of the banks and large corporations.  Our for-profit healthcare systems are financially predatory and have no incentive to actually provide a path to wellness. We are taxed far beyond any appropriate level without any quality returns or accountability.

    Eventually, my work pulled me back into the office full time to sit in meetings behind plexiglass and wear masks all day. The way it was done irked me, but a deeper truth is that being a cog in the corporate machine, and participating in modern systems, no longer worked for me. Illusions were shattered. I had also come to realize just how much pleasure working my garden and tending to home life gave me. I started to question sending my kids to daycare so I could work. I started to question having a mortgage and what I thought of as “smart debts”. I was questioning everything. The more I paid attention the more I could see that I couldn’t trust these systems to support my best interests. And I certainly didn’t want to work in an office full time so that I could afford to participate in them.

    Out in the vineyards as a corporate winemaker

    During this time, under the blue moon at an underground Halloween party in 2020, I met the man who would soon become my husband and the father of my child. The vinegar to my baking soda volcano. He encouraged my new world view and added his own ideas to the mix. He spoke passionately to me about living without debt, how a bank mortgaged home wasn’t a true asset, his views on owning firearms, and so many other things. His radical ideas on how to live were intriguing and confronting for me. During a camping trip early in our relationship, we were walking along a river and speaking out loud daydreams of leaving behind our current lives and moving into a camper down by the river. We both had the same impulse, and the same frustration that society looks down on that type of freedom. Would we be able to raise a family that way? Well, one night over a year later, we were having a familiar conversation. I wanted to spend my time outside growing healthy food, have my horse at my house, focus on raising a connected family, and immerse myself in nature. He wanted to build us an earthen home, and raise his family where he could protect us from tyrannical government overreach and defend the freedoms he so passionately believes in. Neither of us wanted to live in the city, especially in California. Through many conversations our homestead goals began to take shape. But I wondered, how would we ever do it? We were both feeling trapped by the options we felt that we had. And yet, I knew that together we had many of the skills that would be required. He had already spent years researching energy systems, learning woodworking, and preparing for an opportunity to get off-grid. We camped a couple times in his converted van and realized how well we worked together in the wilderness. The life we wanted seemed just out of reach.  

    As it turned out, fate was on our side. The housing market was exploding! A simple online search revealed that if I sold my house, there were many places across the country where we could own bare land mortgage-free with the projected profits. I could get out of the clutches of the Banks and eliminate so much of the soul crushing cost of living that had been such a burden for so long. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of mortgage debt would be transformed into an owned asset. This was the final puzzle piece. But I was still trying to talk myself out of what I knew I really wanted. Did I have what it takes to live off-grid? I was very accustomed to city life. I had never spent more than a long weekend camping and had never lived outside of California. And anyway, where would we move to? I wasn’t willing to risk wasting this opportunity on a place chosen for low prices. We needed to explore the country. We discussed traveling as nomads, but I was so unsure of myself that I couldn’t commit to it. Then one day we were watching the TV show Avatar the Last Airbender. It was an episode I had seen countless times called The Tale of Two Lovers. In the opening scene, Sokka is floating on a giant leaf in a lake, and a band of nomads comes along. “I want to be nomadic!” the words blurted out from deep inside my unconscious self. I couldn’t deny the truth of what I had said. To live wild and free on the road was something I had hardly dared to even dream about. It seemed so reckless! But it was actually a logical way to find the perfect homestead. To top it off, this was a beautiful middle finger to all the restrictions, expectations, and disappointments life in normal society had been laden with. We made that decision, shook hands to seal the deal, and never looked back.

    Working on our travel trailer

    The first thing we needed was a vehicle. Full time living in a van with three dogs didn’t sound very fun. We decided to rescue a 1999 Prowler travel trailer. I say rescue because it was a salvage title and parked in this awful smelly back yard hoarder’s den. But it fit the budget! We brought it home and spent the next two months working feverishly to get it completed in time. We overhauled the whole thing, setting it up with solar and cleaning and redoing much of the interior.  All this was done while juggling showing the house to potential buyers and selling all our belongings. Oh yeah, and during this time we also conceived the baby we’d been working on for the previous five months! So, we were very busy to put it mildly. But quickly we were ready to hit the road! What followed was six glorious months of nearly complete freedom. I swam in crystal clear waters, drank and ate from the land, and did more art than I’ve done since I was a child. Everything expanded for me. My consciousness, my inner peace, my understanding of the true nature of the world, and of course my big baby belly. I expected to spend around three years on the road, but the Universe had other ideas.

    One of our stops was fishing in Trego MT
    A beautiful spot we visited on the road.

    When we found our home, it was based more on intuition than anything concrete. As we drove into town my jaw dropped. I was craning my neck all around looking out my window, completely in awe of the beauty of the jagged and rocky mountains along the river. I felt instantly connected to this place. Our campsite was situated above a creek that was fed by a natural spring. As we enjoyed our time there the dogs found countless animal bones in the woods and I reveled in the big energy of late summer thunder and lightning storms. We had come into Montana about 6 weeks prior, and I was loving every spot as we worked our way down from Kootenai National Forest towards Big Timber, where we were going to meet up with my mother. Both my husband and I received an internal message not to leave Montana. But how could we not? Winter was coming and we were really hitting our stride on the road. Well, regardless, we had stayed as long as the Forest Service would allow in the Lolo National Forest and needed to move on. As we said goodbye to a friend who worked at the produce stand, she gave us a tip on an area where she had seen sale activity. I immediately plugged it into my Land.com search parameters and we headed off to Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest.  Just a couple of days after leaving I got an alert with a listing too good to ignore. We drove six hours round trip (twice!) to check out the property that would become our homestead. I wasn’t quite ready to stop traveling yet, but when you know you know. And I knew this land was meant for us. It wasn’t as large as I had once fantasized, and working land this steep and forested presents unique challenges. But I sensed that we can build something incredible here. And the excitement of getting started building our homestead on this gorgeous mountain eclipsed the grief I felt at giving up life on the road. We made a cash offer and became the true owners of land to build our dreams on. But since it was late September, we figured we would have to spend the winter in Florida and come back in the spring.

    The day we found our land

                    One day, as we were lounging at our Beaverhead-Deerlodge campsite, a couple of dogs ran up to us, followed by a very frazzled old lady. Well, my husband being who he is, a conversation was struck up. Through chit chat and a gift exchange of edibles and mead we became friends. She ended up offering us a really great deal on her rental house for the winter and my birthing season. To make a long story short that rental did not work out. But we had now been planning to overwinter in Montana, and just couldn’t reframe a winter in Florida as appealing. It seemed hard to believe that we didn’t want to flock to the warmth. And admittedly I did dream of swimming pregnant in the ocean. But I’m really scared of sharks so I don’t think I would have enjoyed it much. Plus, the logistics were sticky. We would be moving every two weeks as mandated by Forest Service. This meant that I would have to be prepared to be in labor on a travel day and give birth anywhere, including at a rest stop, if that’s how the timing worked out. We would also be dealing with the Florida tourist busy season and a national forest much busier than we are used to. We would likely need to have our dogs on leash, and I had concerns about privacy even if I was able to give birth in the forest. There also seemed to be a high likelihood of running out of national forest options in warm areas while I was still freshly postpartum. I’m sure we would have made it work, but we were able to come up with plenty of reasons why it would be just as hard as staying in Montana. So, we made a decision. We would move onto our land and survive winter there. ( Check out my post about our first winter! http://bigmountainhomestead.com/2023/03/07/30-in-a-travel-trailer-how-we-survived-the-winter/ )

                    It’s been an intense six months since we started our homestead. Each day is full of learning and new experiences! This journey has taught me to listen to my inner voice, building confidence and resilience I’ve never had before.  And I’m just getting started!