My mom always said that I was born in the wrong era. I love all things old, and even as a child, I have always been drawn to historical fiction. In the fifth and sixth grade I volunteered at historical reenactments for crying out loud. Now that we have a house and I am establishing myself as a homemaker, I find myself gravitating to the simpler things. I bought a flat of strawberries and made jam last year, the old-fashioned way, I mean the really old-fashioned way, with lemon rind instead of gelatin. I spent my rainy yesterday quilting away and looking out the window into our backyard dreaming about garden boxes and fruit trees and chickens and bees. I want to create an Urban Homestead in my beautiful neighborhood in the happiest city in America. After reading Anne VosKamp’s “1000 Gifts” I became convinced that it is easier for me to see God when things are simpler and slower. How much simpler can it get but to grow the food that you put in you mouth. To know what it takes to keep chickens alive long enough for them to produce eggs. Have a hive of honey bees to pollinate our garden and fruit trees as well as our neighbors who are trying to stake out a little plot of their own as well. I want to know the satisfaction of knowing my food. I want to take the time to do the things that take the extra time. I believe when I do that I am proud of what I have because I made it, I value what I have more because I know what it took to get it, and I am satisfied with less because the things I have are meaningful.
The beginning of our little homestead, six tomato plants and four peppers. We are building garden boxes this weekend (because you must provide your own dirt when you set up your homestead in the city) and next week I will sow plants that will prayerfully be gracing our dinner plates this summer. And if we get super ambitious we will finish our coop so that our hens have a home to roost in. I invite you to join me on our journey to Urban Homesteading.
“This, I wanted to tell him, is your birthright, too. Your grandmother, like mine, grew her own tomatoes, killed her own chickens, and felt a true connection to her food. Just because we live in the city, we don’t have to give that up.” ~Novella Carpenter, Farm City