My family is picking the neighbors’ raspberries. The neighbors couldn’t get to them and didn’t want them to go to waste. It’s a gorgeous, comfortable summer afternoon in the Rockies, and June’s heatwave has given way to more temperate weather. It’s raining a bit most days now, and we are learning to differentiate between the degrees within the narrow range of humidity that the arid mountain climate serves up. A day we never would’ve called humid back in the old country seems positively sticky compared to the dry weather we’ve gotten used to over the last two years, since we made our break for wide open spaces.
So my family is picking raspberries on this fine day, while I am ensconced at my desk in my cabin office, writing. How could I sacrifice quality time amongst the brambles with my family in exchange for this? I have spent every spare moment over the last few days trying to build the infrastructure for this blog. Gone are the days when I could hack together a minimalist website with my minimal knowledge of HTML code. I finally seem to have beaten WordPress, the Genesis framework, a theme, and Facebook into submission enough that I have a working machine and can get to what I really want to do, namely, writing.
Since before I had a driver’s licence, I’ve had a dream of making my living as a writer, homesteader, and stay-at-home dad in the mountains. We’re getting there. We have an acre in the mountains, with the start of a garden and a lovely array of domestic fowl, and I am raring to write. Due to the current absence of freelance work, the stay-at-home part isn’t hard, either.
We hope to use permaculture techniques to slowly transform this dry, dusty, messy acre into a food forest, a biological machine that will produce a good portion of our diet with decreasing need for maintenance as the years go by. This blog will be our story, as our arid acre becomes a food forest.
Author’s Soundtrack: The Tom Jones Fever Zone on vinyl, in memory of my grandmother.