Small Is Beautiful

As you know, we helped to move Good Ole Aunt Suz into her new apartment on Saturday and I'm overjoyed to have her so close by! For a housewarming gift, Mara and I cut some fresh sunflowers that she and Isaac grew in their little clothesline gardens. These sunflowers were so beautiful! Reds, oranges, browns, yellows, stripes! We arranged them in a vase, tied on a pretty bow and filled in the spaces with tarragon that is growing like mad by the garden shed. Pretty. Heartfelt. Inexpensive.

Everyone thought they were fake. LOL.

Suzanne's Aunt Debbie thought they were from a florist shop.

No one could believe they were homegrown by 2 little kids and lovingly arranged by mom.

Then Aunt Debbie asked if we lived on "a big farm or something." That still makes me laugh. I love Aunt Debbie.

I told her "no, we live on a 1.189 acre lot" but that we live, plant, grow intensively. We pack as much life into that 1.189 acre lot as we possibly can, and from time to time, annex a bit of space behind the back fence, but only if it's for the greater good :)

When you say the word 'homesteading' or 'self-sufficient', people have a preconceived idea; they picture a place like Montana, 300 acres, a cow, an outhouse, no neighbors for as far as the eye can see. They imagine an old dually, wide open pastures, white-washed fences and apple pies cooling on the windowsills.

But when it comes to homesteading, small can be beautiful too. Small-scale homesteading forces you to rethink how things 'should be' and imagine how things 'can be.' It forces you to think outside the box and use every bit of space available to the benefit of your home. It makes you cherish the small and sweet and reject that which is unproductive, wasteful, boastful and supersized.

I love our little bit of earth. It's small, but beautiful. We landscape our yard with edibles; sage, grapevines and blueberries instead of dusty millers, climbing roses and boxwood. The wasted space around the clothesline posts is perfect for the kids' gardens. The farm fence is a trellis for wild raspberries, honeysuckle and bittersweet vine. The narrow strip of land between the garden and the back fence is a perfect location for blackberries, strawberries and raspberries. We have open spaces for Charlie Brown football and a grape arbor to hide in when you don't want the world to know where you are.

Our little bit of earth comforts us, both body and soul; with spring berries, summer herbs, fall fruits. In winter, we have a sheltered place to gather in and watch the front loaders clear the drifts from our roads. It's where Isaac toddled his first steps to get yellow pear tomatoes from the garden. It's where Mara disappears behind the row of blackberries in early summer, eating til her face and hands are stained purple. It's where a pregnant me nearly cleared a 4 ft fence when a 14 month old Isaac reached down to pick up a snake. (Okay, admittedly, I could do without the snakes.)

Homesteading isn't about huge properties, flocks of animals and outbuildings.

It's about using what you have to nourish your mind, body and soul.

It's about feeding the spirit of those you love with simple pleasures.

It's about knowing who you are and where you're going.

It's about Thanksgiving; remembering from Whom all good things come.

And most importantly, it's about recognizing that this beautiful life is only a layover. Our eternal homestead waits for us at the end of the road.