Image by James Preston via Flickr
So when I envision my life as a full fledged farmgirl I picture rolling hills filled with pasture raised sheep and alpacas (they are just so darn cute who doesn’t want an alpaca, especially when they sneeze), perhaps a cow and some pigs. A few chickens, ducks and maybe a turkey a two. I imagine a porch swing with hand squeezed lemonade in the summer and warm fires with home baked bread in the winter. Then I think about winter some more and think of long drives to everywhere: The grocery store (when the TP’s out, it’s out. They used leaves 200 years ago, why can’t we?). Dance Class. Work. School. Daycare. Well perhaps I will home school and run a CSA. I make pretty decent Jams, Jellies and Relishes and Alpaca hair can be sold for a decent amount. After all, who needs a grocery store when you have your own cows for milk and beef and poultry for eggs? Our children can learn how to weave and spin. What kid doesn’t want to learn that? I can knit and will eventually sew. I could make all of our clothes. We could get solar power and live off the grid…Yes, yes it’s a perfect dream, right up until I get tired of using leaves and drive in a blizzard to get real TP and get stranded in town overnight. While I am gone my kids decide to invite all of their Facebook friends over for a raging party, raid the liquor cabinet to act out their frustration because I have ruined thier lives by turning them into miniature Laura Ingalls’ thus they have Facebook friends named Skunk and Popcorn who come by and next thing you know the porch swing is in the wood-stove, the alpacas all have mohawks, the sheep seem to have been tagged like abandoned train cars and the cow has moved into a neighboring farm just to escape the madness. As I investigate the damage, I realize that I still forgot the TP and drive another 90 minutes round trip to get it. Then I wake up, and find myself securely planted in my suburban home with one dog, one cat and 6 chickens, within 5 miles of two major grocery store and I breathe a sigh of momentary relief. Then I think, OMG (yes, I have gotten to the point where my inner thought bubbles are written in text format), how will I ever make it on a farm? Then I remember, the dream isn’t all about porch swings and lemonade, but rather creating a better quality of life for my whole family and I can do that now here in Vermont suburbia. Finding and moving too our dream rural farm is a commitment. A commitment to being far away from the things we take for granted today. A commitment to being totally invested in our home, land and any subsequent animals we decide to raise. A commitment to making sure that we have the resources to do this the way we want too. So we will plan and we will execute when the time is right we will have our dream home and farm. In the meantime, I will perfect the things I know I can do in this location and give our family the best life we can in the here and now. We will get the rolling hills and alpacas, but until then, homesteading will be a state of mind and a daily practice. Whether my children learn how to spin and weave remains to be seen, but either way, we will make sure to keep the liquor in a fire proof safe and place a ban on spray paint. Happy Homesteading to all and to all a good night!!!
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- Alpacas were a cherished treasure of the ancient Incan civilization (twochicksfarmalpacas.com)
- Today Your Life Just Got A Little Warmer (peruvianalpacas.wordpress.com)
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