Why we're here--an unfocused melody

Well, my friend has asked me to be her guest blogger for Sunday. Why she thinks I've made as much progress on my farm as she has with hers, I don't know. I don't feel like I've mastered anything, except maybe research. In my blog introduction, I state: "I'm not a farm girl, but I'll be playing one for the forseeable future." I've had two careers (teacher and library assistant), both of which became too soul-killing to continue professionally. So, here I am, on 11+ acres, with chickens, sheep, and a small raised bed, trying to figure out how to:

-turn the rest of this place into a working farm
-remodel our house to be efficient and comfortable
-care for, house, and utilize the animals we have
-find the best way to add animals to the fold
-keeping up with changes in relevant laws that govern our homestead and our lifestyle
et cetera, ad nauseum, yadda yadda blah blah

So, how am I making the transition from small-town Material Girl to rural Mistress of my Domain? It seems like a slow and painful process at times, but some aspects are easier than others. I've been familiar with, and have practiced Voluntary Simplicity. That paradigm has enabled me to find ways of stretching our dollars and prioritizing our efforts. My love of books has me seeking out resources old and new regarding country skills, food preservation, organic practices, animal husbandry, and building design. Although I am not a people person, I am pushing myself to build relationships and find mentors whom I can consult when books and my computer fail me. I am still challenged by the physical aspects of this new career. I have issues with several of my lumbar discs, so I have to be careful about how hard I push myself. I am also, unfortunately, a bit too girly when it comes to mucking around in dirt (aside from basic gardening) and crawling through brush. Don't even get me started about spider webs. [whole-body shudder]

My husband and I started this (ad)venture with an abundance of dreams (some of them conflicting), but without much of a plan. We were simply focused on getting out of the big city and onto the biggest piece of workable land we could afford. This place had the greatest potential, even with all of its flaws (the overabundance of juniper, the contaminated well, the painful dance we've had with internet access, the wallpaper). We realize that we need a timeline, a budget, and some details on the grand vision, but we can't seem to find/make the time to get off the treadmill of mundane maintenance and hammer those things out. Right now, we are just working off of lists and dealing with whatever situation is screaming loudest for attention. I know that this strategy is good only for creating stress and stretching out the realization of our goals, but, as I said before, that treadmill is a hard one to negotiate. We're also trying to find the balance between the high-tech reality (what we have to work with) and saving the old, tested wisdom.

In a sense, we are getting back to our roots (original for my husband, ancestral for me). DH grew up on a farm outside of San Antonio, while I merely remember stories about my mother going mushroom-hunting and battling her mother's rooster. Mom didn't stay on the farm, and I didn't get to grow up learning how to work with the land (although I do remember visiting my nonni during chicken slaughtering time--the large bowl of chicken hearts was pretty cool-looking). We want very much to make this work, to do our part in stewardship for this tract for which we've taken legal responsibility. We want to provide opportunities for our friends to enjoy farm-fresh produce and meat. We want to teach the children in our circle how to work with and respect the energies of the land and the products that come from it.