Tucked in the hollow of a logged-off foothill, the place is in the
middle of a neatly mowed field, with all the backyard farming amenities—fenced veggie
garden, chicken coop and run, berry patch, and orchard trees—any homesteader could ever want.
If you’ve read this blog before, you might be thinking, “Wait—from what I can
tell, you’re already raising fruit trees and berries, veggies and chickens.”
Okay, that’s all true. It’s just that this property is so picturesque and tidy I
can’t help but wish there was some kind of homesteady fairy dust that could
transform Berryridge Farm into a similarly charming spot.
This isn’t the first time I’ve felt a bit of homesteader jealousy.
There’s a couple who live about five miles from us, who I call “The Boomer
Homesteaders Down the Road.” With their stick-built home, cute mini-barn, hoop
house and tractor, their little farm looks all-pro. Although they started an
egg operation that apparently ended badly, they now have a U-Pick raspberry
patch and a plot of sweet corn they’ll be selling—all within a few years of
moving to the Foothills.
This new homestead, though, has the mini-farm beat by a mile. Owned by
a sweet couple named Stu and Margo, retirees who sold their home in the Big
City to move out here, the place has a manufactured home, like John and I have.
But there the resemblance ends. Since I ride by the homestead on my bike every
day, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to gaze longingly at it. Stu and Margo’s
house not only has a steel roof and a beautiful deck, but flower boxes are perched
on the deck railings, with more flowers in hanging baskets, and three patio
tables protected by sun umbrellas create a perfect summer lounging spot.
Their chicken coop and shed are expertly constructed with real wood, the
exteriors all stained a lovely golden brown so they match. The propane tank is
even surrounded by matching fence so it doesn’t mar the place’s bucolic vibe,
accented by a nearby antique cultivator parked among the wild daisies; everything
neat, tidy and organized. If that isn’t enough to envy, just this month brought
the homesteader’s pièce de resistance:
a HUGE barn.
The framing and roof are already in, and it is a beaut. As I rode by
today, all I could think was, Stu and Margo must have made a killing on their city home to afford a barn like this one. But
then, I thought, Wait a sec—you’re sort
of comparing apples and oranges. They've had two grown sons
helping them build their infrastructure, and helping maintain the place. And from
what I can tell, one son is building the barn too.
 |
| Hummingbird visiting the bee balm |
Here at Berryridge Farm, John
built our coop and sheds by himself, and even if Hardie-plank siding and wood
scraps aren’t pretty, the sheds are sturdy and serviceable. John and I don’t
have a neatly mowed field, but surrounded by woods, we have privacy in spades. And instead of being cooped up in a small run, like Stu and Margo’s hens, our flock
has two orchard spaces and a big patch of woods John and I cleared for them to
scratch in.
And though I wish we had more time and energy to keep the weeds and brush
from taking over Berryridge Farm (a battle we pretty much lost after an intense scourge or two from Mother Nature, which I
talk about in Little Farm Homegrown) if
truth be told, I wouldn’t change one inch of our place. Especially at this time
of year, when the hummingbirds are zipping around our four bee balm patches. It’s
a sight that always convinces me that we live in the loveliest place on earth.
Speaking of my new homesteading book…if you’d like a look at Little
Farm Homegrown, here’s a brief sample, and you can find more about both Little Farm books at my website. And a quick heads up: Kobo Books has selected Little
Farm Homegrown for "Beach Reads, a special promotion, this week in Canada!
