We are a family of two (and four shih-tzus) building a little farm in a small rural town in Oklahoma. We have been happily married for the past eight years, and if anyone had told us as we exited the church on that lovely June afternoon that someday we’d be homesteading, we never would have believed them.
We started our marriage in a brand new home in a very nice subdivision in a very nice middle class suburb: the kind with the cookie-cutter house plans and a golf course for a front lawn. However as time went on, we began to long for a simpler lifestyle: one that would afford chickens, laundry drying on a clothesline, and quiet evenings watching the sunset from our front porch. Apart from the evenings on the front porch, the chickens and clothesline were not allowed in our subdivision. Neither was the clover lawn that we had cultivated in order to attract the bees that pollinated our garden.
At the same time we had became avid foodies – a lovely date for us is to gather some amazing ingredients, uncork a bottle of wine, and cook together while listening to jazz. We started to dream about the possibility of one day owning a self-sustaining farm ~ one small enough for the two of us to manage but large enough for an extensive garden and some livestock. We could keep our chickens, hang the laundry out in the breeze to dry, and no one would care about the clover lawn. But it was all just that, a dream ~ a “wouldn’t it be cool if….” sort of thing that we talked about every once in a while.
Eventually we moved from the nice subdivision in the nice suburb in order to fulfill another more realistic dream of owning and restoring an older home. It was a lovely brick colonial with wood floors, glass doorknobs, and a sweet little room off the back we hoped to one day use as a nursery. From the start of our marriage we planned for a large family but that dream turned into a seven year nightmare punctuated by miscarriage, failed attempts at adoption, and a dishonest doctor. One night, when faced with the decision of whether or not we should (or even could) continue, we made the agonizing decision to get off the treadmill leading nowhere, focus on what we did have ~ each other, and make it work as a family of two.
It was about that time that the neighborhood around us sadly began to deteriorate. We needed to make a change, and the dream of the farm surfaced again. This time we decided to make it a reality. While working through the grief of an empty nursery, the vision of our place in the country brought a sense of peace and restoration. Foxes always had special meaning and significance to us. In one way or another they had served as “signposts” along our infertility journey, seeming to say “Hang on ~ you’re going to make it.” When we discovered that the name of our little rural town was the word the Cherokees used for “Black Fox” we knew we had indeed made it. In early 2012, we purchased an acreage and the following spring began work on building a homestead.
More details of the actual transition during that time and all that led up to it can be read about here: www.fluffynest.wordpress.com
We are still a work in progress. We recently finished building a small, simple pole barn, furnished it as a home, and moved in at the end of October. A market garden is in the making that we hope will produce both vegetables and an income by this spring. The clothesline will be installed as soon as soon as the weather grows warmer, and the chickens are due to arrive in June. Our home is situated just so, with a generous porch in order to view the pond where we look forward to watching the sun set on many quiet evenings.