OFF AGAIN. ON AGAIN.

For those of you who don't know Hannah and my story, we lived off-grid for many years. But as Hannah pointed out the other day, "off-grid" is a misleading description: we were basically feral.For several years we hauled all of our drinking water. We didn't have electricity until the very end, and even then it was only enough to run the Internet for a little while. We did eventually get water to our house , but we had to heat it on the stove or in the greenhouse for bathing. During the summer, we just bathed in the creek. All of our heat came from a wood stove and we grew the vast majority of our own food, cooking almost every meal at home, on a small grill (summer), or the stovetop (winter).And we loved it.As hard as it was, honestly none of that was the reason we moved. We loved our neighbors––LOVED our neighbors––loved our market, and loved our lifestyle. But when Further was born, things changed. Specifically, what we loved had to make sense for our child, too. And for us, hard as it was to leave Bugtussle, that meant being closer to family.So we moved. And it was hard for many reasons - not the least of which was adjusting to having electricity and running water at our fingertips, and the expense that came along with that convenience. I am growing used to it––to not having to charge our phones in the car; to the light switch; to the hot water heater; to refrigeration. They are amazing inventions and I appreciate them with every ounce of my soul. That said, I cannot truly love them until they are something––like the water in our old cabin, like the heat from our wood stove––that we get to control, and that come from renewable resources.So, to any friends and followers who may have perhaps been bummed to see us depart from that lifestyle, I feel ya. But I also want to say that we are not officially back on-grid as much as we are firmly in-between. Both Hannah and I long to return to wood heat and solar power. It will just take some time (and really, by time, I mean money––we have to put a tin roof over our house before we can even install the stove). So for those of you who watched us and helped us build up that beautiful off-grid cabin, bear with us. The story has changed but the goal of self-sufficiency is as alive as ever.Only now, we're going the other way––from on-grid to off––and we hope you will come along with us as work to make it happen. Perhaps it will present a more realistic approach for those who want the lifestyle we had but can't live in the middle of nowhere where no one cares if you spend a few years without electricity or running water. Either way, you can bet it's gonna be a journey. As always, thanks for reading, and we hope you'll enjoy the new story.-Jesse.

FARMSTEADING.

When we originally came up with the name Rough Draft Farmstead back in 2011, our thought process was simple. We liked "Rough Draft" because it fit us as artists, but also "Draft" spoke to our ambitions to one day have draft animals. "Farmstead" originally just sounded better than homestead or farm, but it also felt more accurate, like it was directly in between the two. But over these past few years, I really feel like our farm has begun to embody the farmstead part of its name. And I'm proud of that.We homestead, sure. We grow our own food and cure and preserve and dabble in permaculture, cheesemaking, etc. etc. etc.. Certainly, we are very involved with our home. But we also farm. Professionally farm. We make our living growing food––a living that becomes increasingly more reasonable as we get better at it and as we dig in further.And I like it this way. I see a lot of interest in homesteading and permaculture, but not enough in actually making a living on this lifestyle. I love completely sustainable ideas, but nothing is sustainable if it can't pay for the farm, or the bills. This doesn't mean you have to drop all of your dreams and buy a giant tractor. It just means you should find ways for your life make your living. For us, we want to eat good food, so we grow a bunch of it and sell the excess (so to speak). We want fruit and herbs and mushrooms––same thing. And we do our best to feed as many people as we can. I have no idea if farmsteading is a word people use––my word processor is certainly skeptical––but I do like what it implies. It's a combination of farming and homesteading, and a viable way to make your life your livelihood.- Jesse.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

Because our internet time is so limited, we may not always get a chance to respond to your comments. But we always read them, and man we appreciate them. Seriously. You truly enrich our blog and we love the discussion and perspective your comments inspire. From Hannah and me, thank you. With that said, there were so many good questions asked this week––especially on this post ––that we'd love to answer, but hate tapping out a quick response in the thirty seconds we have to look at the site. So, if it's alright by you, we'd love to share a few of the answers.First, Milla who runs this amazing blog, asked us in the comments section of the "TORN" post, how we feel about the toll farming is taking on our bodies. And it's a great question. Truthfully, we think about it a lot. It's at the crux of what makes the decision of whether or not to slightly mechanize so hard. Take for example the other day, building those first beds [link] (which the walking tractor could have built in an hour or less). When I was done with my first bed I could barely hold Further. My back was sore. My arms were spent. I don't love that. I don't want that to be my life. So the question becomes, is doing things the hard way the sustainable thing to do? Because people like Jean-Martin Fortier and Eliot Coleman are mechanized (lightly) and their soil, their environment, and their bodies are still healthy. Or should we bite the bullet and either buy a walking tractor, or finally give the draft animal a shot?Well, speaking of the draft animal, Dawn, another sweet commenter, asked us if we'd be interested in using her family's Gelding. She didn't feel as if their situation was right for keeping one, but the truth is, when I look around, neither is ours. The one place we could keep some small draft animal, like a donkey perhaps, is also a place I might like for more garden space next year. I still want a draft animal––Rough DRAFT is no coincidence––and love that they eat grass and turn it into fertilizer, but I'm still not sure it makes sense on our small property.What about a wood gasifier for our walking tractor, our friend John asked. Or making our own diesel, as Jason suggested. I love these idea. I love the idea of using wood gas or biodiesel to replace fossil fuel usage. But I am an immaculately incompetent engineer. I look at the schematics of those things and the fight or flight mechanism in my brain lights up (is that normal?). Perhaps I just need a good teacher––or someone to help me build one. Jason also asked about electric tillers, solar charged. Definitely, we are looking out for these, though do typically find battery operated equipment to be painfully inferior to gas in terms of power. On our radar, though. For sure. Anyway, there were so many good questions, and you should read through them. And I could go on forever, but I'll stop there for now. If you like these comment responses, please let us know and we'll do more of them––ask us questions, for Hannah, myself, or both. If you're not into it, that's cool, too. Either way, just know how much we appreciate the comments, and your support. Thank you.- Jesse.

MESSY MONDAYS.

If you were wondering how we wash our cloth diapers, here is a shot of our washing machine:Cold water soak, hot water with soap and a plunger, cold water rinse, hang diapers over the stove to dry. Not too fancy but it gets the job done!