Finding Our Way Back to the Land
We’re a small family finding our way back to the land — not because it’s trendy, not because it photographs well, but because it feels right.
In December 2025, we closed on our dream home. Just a few short months ago. And somehow, even with everything that’s happened since, we already can’t imagine choosing a different life.
The Welcome We Didn’t Expect
The first chapter didn’t open softly.
We were greeted by mice in the walls.
A bat in the house.
A clogged pipe.
And a handful of other “are we sure about this?” moments.
There’s nothing glamorous about plunging pipes or figuring out how something with wings ended up in your living room. But those early days did something important — they tested us. And in testing us, they showed us just how quickly we could adapt.
Homesteading has a way of stripping things down fast. You either learn, or you learn.
When most people picture a homestead, they see the finished story.
The giant, thriving gardens.
The rows of canned goods lined up perfectly.
Every meal made from scratch.
The peaceful farmhouse kitchen glowing in golden light.
And we love that vision. Truly.
But that’s not where we are.
Right now, it’s mud on the floors. It’s learning skills we thought we’d “get to eventually.” It’s fixing what breaks. It’s realizing the land doesn’t care about your Pinterest board.
(Yes it’s beautiful... but it’s earned.)
We may have the farmhouse.
The rest? We’re building from the ground up.
This is the early chapter. The messy middle before anything looks impressive. The season where the soil is being turned and so are we.
We’re rooted in old ways. the folk traditions, hands-on skills, doing instead of scrolling. But we’re also figuring it out in real time. There’s no polished ending here yet. Just growth.
And honestly? That’s the part that matters most.
If you’re looking for perfection, you won’t find it here.
But if you’re looking for the real version, the grit, the small wins, the setbacks, the stubborn determination, and the quiet moments that make it worth it — pull up a chair.
Grab a cup of coffee.
Stay awhile.
This is the beginning of Iron Pine Homestead.
And we’re just getting started.