I call myself an aspiring homesteader. Even though I live on a vegetable farm where we grow quite a bit of the food we eat, I preserve a lot of tomatoes for winter, and I try my best to fix rather than replace household items, I have never considered myself a homesteader.
I am not my mother—canning her own venison from the season’s hunt. I am not my father—building a home with his own two hands. And I am certainly not like any of the social-media-famous homesteaders. After all, I have zero backyard chickens, and I don’t own a single floral peasant skirt.
But as I dove into planning this winter’s issue all about homesteading, I started to ask myself, “When does someone get to call themselves a homesteader?” At its core, homesteading is about self-sufficiency, which can look like a lot of different things, from growing and preserving your own food to producing your own clothing and tools.
There is no degree in homesteading, no certificate to be earned in self-sufficiency in order to call yourself a homesteader. And you certainly don’t need to label yourself a homesteader in order to embrace aspects of a more self-sufficient lifestyle. You can live anywhere (from urban centers to rural countryside) and still develop homesteading skills. You don’t have to be “all in” on a homesteading lifestyle to practice greater self-reliance.
Working on this issue has taught me to leave the labels behind and instead embrace the homesteading activities that work for me and my family but, most importantly, bring me joy. Along the way, these activities can also save you money, bring a greater sense of security, build confidence, and create a deeper sense of appreciation for the resources (human and material alike) around us.
Whether you’re a hard-core homesteader or just interested in picking up a new skill or two, I hope this winter’s issue serves as inspiration. Discover the wealth of knowledge and experience being offered through Viroqua’s Driftless Folk School or celebrate all things slow with this issue’s Cook at Home recipes where flavors and textures take hours to develop but are worth the wait. I also can’t encourage you enough to plan your own pickle party and help spread the love of preserving.
Whatever you choose, don’t let your foray into homesteading be held back by labels or the need to be “all in.” Let it be driven first and foremost by joy. That is where the real magic happens—when beneficial activities turn into beneficial habits because we enjoy the process so incredibly much.
Cheers,
Marissa DeGroot, Managing Editor
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