1.7k

Dream following: that one time when I had a dream and went on an adventure

One June morning a few years ago, I woke up from a very vivid dream that laid out my plans for the day. In the dream, I'd gone back to the property where my childhood best friend lived, back on my hometown of Bainbridge Island. Like much of the Island in reality, in my dream the land had been completed developed and was almost unrecognizable. I woke up motivated.

3.5k

Come the revolution: Homesteading as an act of radical resistance

We wanted land. We wanted to grow real food, and raise animals for real milk and real meat and real eggs. We wanted to sit at our dining room table without a goat jumping from chair to chair. I had enough of a background in historic agriculture (to say nothing of a full-time job doing historic agriculture) that I was willing to take the leap out of the suburbs and into hobby farming. My husband quickly jumped onboard. We are the ones who are actively resisting the industrial food systems of the twenty-first century. Are we radicals? Absolutely. Are we rabid? No. We've just simply assessed the way things are going locally, nationally, and globally, and chimed in with Bartleby the Scrivener: We would prefer not to. We are not alone.

1.4k

My secret love affair with the country

The country and I have always had an on-again/off-again relationship. And this summer my family and I spent time at my parents' beautiful six acre property in Nova Scotia. Watching my daughter pick wildflowers and hide under my parents' willow trees, talk about pigs and horses and eat too many freshly picked apples makes me wonder if maybe I walked away from something good. Is she, am I, missing out on a wonderful life? Maybe the country and I need to make another go at it…