Confessions of a Beginning Homesteader
Although my daddy grew a garden every year and my mama canned at the end of each summer I was a mall-goin’, car cruisin’ kind of girl. When I got married all I brought to the table was my ability to make macaroni without having to look at the directions on the side of the box.
But I have a secret. I want to go green.
Bake my own bread. Can my own produce. Make my own soap. Sew. Mend. Darn (as in socks, right?). I was so gung-ho. When my mom brought over all of her old canning equipment and even a few “vintage” how-to books I did a little dance and got giddy over how my cabinets would look full of beautiful jars, how much money I could save, and how wholesomely my family would eat. All by my own hands.
I dream big.
But I fear bigger.
I closed the door on that cabinet and allowed life to happen. Feed those little mouths, wipe those little bottoms, change nothing, risk nothing, fail at nothing…
…to keep reading about how I’ve started homesteading c’mon over to Heart of the Matter.


