Homestead Chronicles

A hip sushi restaurant. A regrettable cocktail. And a moment of identity crisis so absurd, it snapped me out of months of people-pleasing. This one’s about sugar coating, self-respect, and why being liked by everyone might actually be a warning sign.

We talk about simple living like it’s either a memory or a myth—something for old folks and off-gridders. But what if simplicity isn’t the easy path at all? What if it’s a radical act of choice?

Paige and husband have spent four years growing food on leased land—experimenting, adapting, and even the occasional smuggling. This post walks through how our garden’s evolved, what still fills our quarter-acre plot, and the plants that teach us patience (hello, asparagus).

Spring on the farm isn’t just blooming flowers—it’s cats going missing, ducks eloping, and chicks falling asleep face-first in their food. Each day, between the drama and the quiet, I learn a little more about what it means to be alive alongside them.

As we start building our homestead from scratch, we’re still living and working on the leased farm that taught us how to grow, steward land, and build a shared vision. This season, we’re juggling both—planting beds, wrangling ducks, collecting eggs, and learning from the space that got us here.