I have always felt a pull toward things of the past. My family says I have an “old soul”, older adults tell me that I am “mature for my age”, and my mother always told me that she appreciates that I like what I like and I am not ashamed of it. I like to tell people that I was born in the wrong century. But I am starting to figure out that I was born right when I was supposed to be born. I am part of a generation that is learning that our earth is changing for the worse at an alarming rate, and we have to decide whether or not we are going to do something about it. This is my vow to do something about it.
How am I going to do something about it? I am going to live like I WAS born in a century past. I close my eyes and imagine myself wearing a big dress covered in tiny flowers that I sewed myself, topped with an apron doused in flour from a morning of kneading bread dough, hair neatly pinned in a bun on top of my head. I am working hard in the kitchen of the house that my husband worked tirelessly to build before the winter showed up. Maybe I am just a product of my upbringing. I grew up eating only the beef that my grandpa raised, eating only the peaches and corn that my grandmother and mother canned, and riding a four wheeler around my family’s 40 acres with a dog chasing me down the gravel drive. My best friend in the 6th grade was my sheep, Abigail, who wore diapers in the house and slept in the laundry room until she was strong enough to live outside.
I realize that all of this is far from what most of my generation experienced growing up, and honestly, that upsets me. 200 years ago, the life I imagine is the life that you entered in to. You had no choice- you grew your own food, you raised your own meat, you sewed your own clothes, you made do with what you had. There was no Target down the street taunting you with aesthetically pleasing things to fill every room in your house. And it is exactly all of those aesthetically pleasing things that are ruining our mother earth. The convenience of life these days had caused us to lose touch. Literally, we have stopped touching the earth, stopped getting out hands dirty, and stopped working hard for the simple things.
It’s time to get back to all of that.
I’m not sure what it was about moving 1.200 miles away from my amazing family that already does all of the things that I want to do that has given me this new passion for all of it, besides the fact that we ran out of my Mother-in-law’s homemade raspberry jam so I decided to make it myself… but here is to figuring out much more about living sustainably far away from them all!
P.S. I promise more sewing posts are coming soon!
P.S.S. Don’t be surprised if things around here change to fit my new passion for turning my tiny apartment into as much of a homestead as I can!
My new home- Breckenridge, Colorado
Sunset from my front porch
Double rainbow after a thunderstorm, also from my front porch
My first attempt at canning– Success!