Whewboy! What a year this has been. It feels like just yesterday that I got the keys. I can confidently say that I haven’t worked this hard since I had four babies, in quick succession, to care for. And even then, I don’t think I worked this hard. I did finally “crash and burn” recently and was sick as a dog for over two weeks and had to call for help just to keep animals alive. I think it’s interesting and helpful to take the time to review the year and make decisions about how things should go moving forward. Managing a small farm by yourself is not for the faint of heart. Hopefully, anyone dreaming about a homestead can pick up a few things from my story that will be helpful. The joke I make with my family is “I go, therefore, in order to set an example of what not to do.”
A Little Background
For those of you just tuning in, over a year ago I left Idaho, sold my cabin in the mountains, and moved to Tennessee. I did so because my children and grandchildren decided to move here and I didn’t want to be so far away from them. My roots are in Tennessee, my dad was born here, and I visited my grandparents and other relatives in these here parts when I was a child. I never dreamed I would come this way again as an adult. But, here I am. Previous to my Idaho respite, I worked in high tech as a professional and travelled the country consulting. I worked very long hours and was under tremendous pressure all the time. A series of serious illnesses stopped me in my tracks and I had to retire early. I was definitely in the “city girl” category and never imagined that I would become a “country girl” in my retirement years.
When I found this small farm, I felt like God said, “This is what you wanted ever since you were a little girl, right? You wanted a farm like your grandpa had, and you wanted animals to care for. Here you go.” I was pretty ecstatic at the time. And I am still grateful and still feel like I was given a big present. I had no idea what I was doing though. Which has made everything that much more interesting. I laugh a lot. I laugh at the sense of humor God has. I laugh at myself for thinking I can do anything I want. I laugh when I’m overwhelmed and every muscle is screaming at me. I do sleep well, though!
You Don’t Know What You Don’t Know
I guess the first question is: would I start a small family farm, at my age (60 something), if I had it to do over again? I can still say, yes! Would I do anything differently? Yes, just about everything. Honestly, no matter how brave you are, you just don’t know what you don’t know. You can read books, and watch movies and videos, and read blogs, and talk to people who farm, and you still won’t understand the full breadth of the undertaking unless you’ve actually worked or grown up on a farm. Until you have physically hauled water in five gallon buckets, until you have picked up dead chickens that were ravaged, until you have stood or squatted at the hind end of a birthing cow, until you have dragged hundreds of feet of hoses to get water out to different areas, until you have shoveled manure and stared down an animal 6x larger than yourself, until you have just missed stepping on a giant snake and seen rats or mice take up residence in your house, until you’ve completed your chores in smothering humidity and high heat, until you’ve recognized a tick and differentiated between various bugs of all sizes, until you’ve smashed a few dozen brown recluse spiders, until you’ve hoed tens of dozens of rows of dirt, attempted to move 100 square bales of hay into the barn, etc., you haven’t lived on a farm in the South.Continue reading“First Year of My “Self-Sufficient” Farm – Part 1, by SaraSue”
