One Year (plus a couple weeks) on the Homestead

I was having all these nostalgic feelings as the one year mark approached from when we moved here, but then we got into business and camping planning so my writing as of late once again has been thwarted. Nevertheless, the date came and went (6/19), so here I am posting in July. You, dear reader, probably didn’t notice and that is absolutely fine.

The biggest thing I’ve noticed here physically is that since we’ve been slowly improving the soil, when it rains we don’t get as many mud puddles or standing water. We’ll keep composting and adding inputs that improve the soil health, we have a fledgling little garden, and I have to keep my expectations low for much production this season. I’ll keep weeding and stay faithful, we’ve heard it could take up to five years to get the land to do what you want it to. Slow and steady is a saying for a reason. Also of note, while we’ve gardened plenty in the past it was always at rented property or on our school’s community garden plot. This is a whole new level starting from scratch, knowing what should go where, companion planting, shade patterns, etc.

We got 15 baby chicks in April and are babysitting a couple of sheep for the summer. Cats or something got into the coop while we were away last week so we are at 13 chickens now. I thought I’d be terrified of them since I’m not a huge fan of any foul but these ladies (and maybe a male or two, too early to tell) are really winning me over. The sheep are mowing our back pasture and there appears to be no more traces of thistle or bindweed, so yay them! Their manure is a great fertilizer as well. No plans for that area yet in terms of growing things but at least the mitigation is helping to clear out the negative so the native plants can thrive. Check out the milkweed!

Hummingbird moth on the milkweed

Indoors, not much has needed alteration. Just your run of the mill repairs and upkeep (today being the swamp cooler, just in time! Spring was good to us but now it’s HOT.) Our biggest projects have been getting water and electricity from the front of the property to the middle so that our two outbuildings can have power and we’ll eventually build a drip irrigation system for the garden so we have the infrastructure up to make that easier when we’re ready. Fence work is an ongoing project as it is for any farm. The big old trees will likely be getting some major trim work in the fall. They are great for their shade but they are Siberian Elms and they drop seeds and branches and ooze some gross liquid constantly. We’ll be pulling up their shoots for the remainder of our or their lives here.

The biggest upcoming news is that we got funding to start The Merc and will be opening a grocery store in the coming month or so. The business plan writing and projecting costs on financial worksheets were a huge mental hurdle and I’m so glad it all came together with help from friends, mentors, the SBDC, our business banker, and the Utah Microloan Program. I can’t wait to get to the physical work of transforming this blank canvas of a storefront into an actual business. Stay tuned for more, and if you’re a local reading this let me know what you’d love to see in this little local store. Think farmer’s market and kitchen staples.

Three years ago we left Denver for a nine month nomad excursion. That trip twisted and turned in so many unknown directions that make up the body of this blog. The first stop on that trip was a visit to our friend’s newly acquired hemp farm in Paonia, Colorado. Three years later we were able to return to their farm for their annual Summer Solstice party. Camping for a week on the western slope of the state we left has given me fresh perspective.

We’ve just returned full circle so to speak from that starting point. Seeing their vision come to fruition in three short years gives me great hope and inspiration for what we can also achieve. We saw their starts and have seen their work pay off in the way of a diverse community and successful business. We didn’t know where we were headed all those years ago, but we have a pretty good idea now. This was also the first camping trip we’d taken in a good long time where we were all actually excited to get back to our regular lives. It was refreshing to get away and is always sweet to see friends, but we are thriving in what we are creating here. Grow where you’re planted.

I got lost in the weeds

It’s really been almost two months since my last writing. We’ve all been outside a whole lot (hallelujah!). I’ve been business planning, stumbling, tripping, getting stuck in fear and perfectionism, but I’m aware of that now and ready to step into action again.

I opened my planning notebook and the last day I took any business actions was the end of April. Then I allowed myself to get distracted by all the things; chickens, gardening, my dad’s things, my kid’s things. And on and on. It’s a destructive pattern that I can’t catch myself doing until I pause and recalibrate. Yesterday I plucked a box full of weeds from all over the yard. Last year when we got here there was little weeding to do – it was mostly dry and desolate, making the weeds very manageable and visible. The weeds I’m going after are brambly, all over the place, and once dry will become prickly goat heads. Bike tire killers, annoying to both people and dog feet everywhere. So I’m getting at them while they’re easy to pluck and soft enough to snag bare handed. But while I’m hunting I’m also thinking, (probably too much). About the state of our world, about the precariousness of starting a new business, about borrowing money for that business, about paperwork I still need to do for my dad’s needs, about driving all over the county for the next six weeks for Camden’s baseball, about Natalie starting some jobs this summer and how to shuffle cars for it all to work, about doctor and dentist appointments needing to be researched and scheduled. Like I said, all. the. things.

I got to the weeds for a few minutes this morning again but then had to stop. This goal of eradicating this specific weed in this moment is really keeping me from the work I need to do in pursuit of MY goals. Yes, it’s important, but I need not let it consume large swaths of my day. I need not exhaust my body first thing and then have nothing left in the tank for writing or planning later.

I’ve never been much for the write and schedule block in a planner, but maybe I need to change my mind on this. The things I put in the calendar rarely coincide with my own needs or goals. I have large chunks of day that I largely mismanage in service to the house or someone else. Do all mothers do this? Do all women do this? I thought I was more aware than I am.

The other thing that keeps coming up for my is the cynic who says that all of this effort is pointless so why even try. There are such huge societal issues playing out before our very eyes. We as a country are so sick and obsessed with weapons, more concerned with party over principle, completely numb to the horrors we hear of every single day. It’s exhausting to just be alive. What difference can a little store in the middle of nowhere (somewhere?) make? I could really use some encouragement in this area. The isolation of these thoughts keeps me stuck too. I feel powerless. So tell me reader, what you do to keep moving forward when we are the ones we have been waiting for.

Embracing Becoming a Generalist

It’s been a few weeks since sitting down to capture some thoughts. This podcast https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/mind-body-and-soil/id1615122217?i=1000604087792 … always gets my writing juices flowing so here I am again after a good listen. As for the title of this post, a more self deprecating phrase we’ve said as generalists over the years is “Jack of all trades, master of none”.

I’m very much in a similar rut of what I posted last month. I’ve come to embrace it as my mud season. More metaphor, but hang with me. A fellow writer I’ve recently started following http://jamesapearson.com…describes it as the gap between winter and spring where there is no clear path and every step feels heavy and uncertain. We are here both physically and theoretically as we trudge through the literal shit (manure) we’re trying to spread through the backyard to build soil, and emotionally as I do the deeper work of inner healing and connecting with my younger selves. Do not do this work alone, you’ll lose your muck boots in the depths of the sludge. I’m grateful for a support network helping me to navigate my own traumas and explore my forgotten childhood as well.

Back to the generalist idea though. We’re in a pre-spring kind of whack-a-mole place with our homesteading and store plans. I announced the thing but am currently stuck in the mire of all the details. I can see where I want to be months or even years from now, but there is not a clear path and my inner compass is skewed because I haven’t been to this place before.

Homesteading requires a highly sustainable level of DIY and I’m still a novice in a lot of the areas needing my attention. Earlier this week for example, I had an ongoing text and phone thread with a soil guy about cover crop and testing soil samples, got a new internet router installed but was not able to connect (fortunately Zach was the generalist here and got us online when he got home), I mopped the muddy floors almost everyday, sent a customer service email, was supposed to apply for a grant with a deadline of Wednesday but due to the no Wi-Fi issue went ahead and skipped that round, took the dog to training class, on the way picked up a gallon of milk from our raw milk lady, grocery shopped up north, went to the chiropractor, attended a coaching call and a webinar, and there’s a whole other running list in my head of things to do, research, cook, clean, prepare, that doesn’t even touch the business side of things.

I know we all do this everyday, every month, etc. but the question I had to stop and ask today is the same as last writing. Where is it in service to my goals? What is my next right step? When we were living on the road this was always at the forefront of my mind, next right step was usually pretty clear and we became very intuitive and knowing where to go and when to make a move. Living inside dulls that intuition to some extent. But I don’t want to have dull instincts so I have to get in the mud and feel around for my footing.

Here’s an example of where I think we are (maybe) getting it right. We want chickens, always have, and have been around enough urban farms or even friends backyards to know having them is a great farming segue and low entry barrier project. We even have a dilapidated barn behind our house that housed some foul at some point. When we moved in last summer the kids started clearing out that space. When we circled back around to the research end of having chickens there was a lot of debate about building a new coop or using the existing one and just making improvements to it. Next right step (and next right available thing) meant that improving the existing structure is more viable for now. We already had the lumber at the ready to do the work. The boys made great headway last weekend and we’ll be getting some chicks in early April after our spring break. Same goes for the garden, we have seeds, at least some workable ground, and a separate barn space for getting some seeds started indoors. We all have to start somewhere with what we have and this is what we have for now. And it is enough.

The mud season is messy but it can be full of fun challenges if we’re willing to look at it that way. I still grumble a lot on the cloudy and cold days but the temps are ever so slightly starting to climb and signs of spring are slowly making their selves known. I see it in the greening up of things and the return of more bird species to the area on my daily walks. Sometimes there’s even a clear blue sky to appreciate and if we’re really lucky no wind. Today is not such a day, but I can knock a few more things off my list from inside while I wait for another glimpse of the sun and for the mud to dry up.

Today is January 439

Maybe I’m being a bit dramatic, but this month is just forever long. It’s still dark and it’s still cold, ALL. THE. TIME.

And it’s doing its number on me.

I had a bit of a breakdown earlier in the week with tears and ugly crying as a result of a podcast (amongst other recent soul work), jotted some things down and called my sponsor. I feel a lot better today, less anxious and more grounded.

I had enough clarity after all of that to finish getting the business registration paperwork filed. I have articles of incorporation and an EIN and I feel like I just summited one of many mountains on this next business journey. There’s been part of my brain that couldn’t fathom doing this work until I knew my dad’s situation was a little more solid (I’m STILL waiting on Medicaid to kick in here, 4 months and 3 attempts at applying later), it’s no wonder I’m adverse to any government agency/process. It’s all just so many broken systems one after the other. Perhaps the focus on my own thing was just what has been needed to ease my anxiety about the other thing. Let’s hope that proves to be the case.

I thought I’d have more profound things to say, but as the hard week unfolded news-wise my thoughts diminished. I’m just so sad that we are so sick a country that we STILL glorify guns and police abuse of power over actual human lives.

I’m powerless over these systems that are working exactly how they were designed. The part I can do is offer comfort and support to those who are suffering. I can keep being a voice of reason and hope. I can look around my tiny community and see more in common rather than other. And with that, I heal and hopefully that healing feeds into those whose lives intersect with ours.

Merry Happy Everything, here’s our “card“

Today, Christmas Eve looks a lot different than in past years. We are going it solo for maybe only the second time in our adult lives. While we miss our Colorado family and friends terribly, choosing home this year was a very intentional decision, making this year mostly about our rootedness and new traditions in one place. (And the timing of that polar vortex proved that we made the right decision, yikes!)

Today has been spent baking my little heart out with sourdough gifts for our neighbors. Tomorrow we’ll eat yummy food, open presents, and since it’s been so nice out these past few days, spend some extended time in nature.

It’s sweet and simple and what we hope for all of you. Thank you for the cards, treats, FaceTime calls, and continued words of encouragement from near and far. Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Festivus, and to all a goodnight.

Much love, The Mashek’s

The Writings of Breanne Mashek

Homesteading, Caregiving, Ramblings, and Travel

small town living