Two Years in the Northwoods

November 3, 2019November 4, 2019 / Adventure This Life / 2 Comments

Today is a mini-monumental day. Two years ago, to the date, marks our two-year anniversary living in the great Northwoods. Can you believe it’s been two years already? Two years since we packed up our family of four and moved from the Twin Cities to small town, Cumberland, WI.

Nick working on the farm this summer.

It’s the stuff dreams are made of. But let me assure you, fulfilling dreams, going after what you want, your heart’s calling, is not all rainbows and butterflies and glitter and sunshine, though according to my sweet hubby, that’s the world I live in, and what a wonderful one.

Finding purpose, fulfilling dreams, chasing your heart’s calling is not a one-and-done, but a continual decision, continually facing fear, conquering it, and then preparing yourself to face it again. It’s accepting failure as a given and renaming it learning. It’s reminding yourself that you’re not perfect (and rationalizing with yourself that you don’t want to be perfect anyway). It’s feeling lost and overwhelmed and being unsure if you’re capable of really making it happen. It’s allowing yourself to be your most vulnerable, and putting it out there for people to speculate your shortcomings and share your successes. It’s living a life without regrets, because at the end of this life, it’s the things you don’t do that take up the most space of regrets.

The farm after the worst thunderstorm of the summer. One that leveled farms in nearby towns.

As you may recall from one of my first posts ever, nearly two years ago now, there were many things that brought us out here. So, how has this life transition stacked up against our expectations?

A glimpse into the last two years living in the Northwoods…

Community & Connection – Check & Check!

One thing we were desiring prior to moving is becoming part of and building a community. We hadn’t heard of Cumberland before moving here, so weren’t sure what to expect. Well, this small town of less than three thousand people has exceeded our expectations. They have not only welcomed us, but embraced and supported us. They have made this place feel like and become our home, so much in fact, most days it feels like we’ve always been here.

Near the end of our growing season this fall harvesting the last bit of our herbs to dry.

We have also had the opportunity, through our Farmers Market in Spooner (a slightly larger town about 25 minutes North of us), to build a second community that we could have only ever dreamed of with the vendors and our customers. We have found a group of people who have chosen a life similar to us, who share our values of community, connection, and purpose, who are redefining the norm and following their passions and dreams, giving up big corporate gigs in the city to settle into a slower, more meaningful life. It’s. So. Cool.

Celebrating our 17-year wedding anniversary at Spooner Farmers Market this summer, where we sold out of our lettuces nearly every week by 10:30 A.M. (Pictured here is our curly kale)

Adventure, Courage, & Purpose – Yup, Yes, & Work In-progress!

Living this life, small, regenerative farming, homesteading, building a small business, is an adventure and takes courage every day. We’re out here doing stuff we’ve never done, building a business we don’t know how to build, and trusting God and the Universe in a way we’ve never tried.

As for purpose, that’s a bit tougher right? Finding and fulfilling purpose is something that never feels complete, and perhaps never is. And if my purpose is people, which I believe with every cell in my body it is, then everything I do needs to align with that. But then there’s also creative passion that’s constantly ablaze in those cells and needs a productive, and God-willing, a financially lucrative outlet. So the ongoing question is this, how do I merge and manage my purpose, innate talents, and creative passions in a meaningful way? Like I said, work in progress.

Relaxing on the farm after a busy Saturday farmers market in Spooner, WI this summer.

Joy, Freedom, & Family – Getting there, Pretty much, & More so Than Ever!

Joy’s a tough concept, I think, to define, but I think when you experience it, you just know. I used to think Joy was knowing everything will be all right. And perhaps that’s it, and perhaps it’s much more and simpler than that. What I can say is that I’ve had moments over these last two years, usually when I’m in mental, emotional, and spiritual turmoil, where sudden awareness hits me and I become overwhelmed with a gratitude that fills my entire existence with sunlight – warm and pure, full of hope – knowing that I’m exactly where I need to be and exactly who I need to be. It’s momentarily removal of all doubt and a connection to God and the Universe that’s beyond explanation – that builds and swells and reaches through all the spaces and says I know you. It’s pure love and acceptance. My goal: to live in a constant state of joy. Until then, I’ll take the few-and-far-between experiences and cherish them exceedingly.

Yesterday.

Freedom, now that’s an interesting and evolving ideal for me. We’ve experienced freedom from our past 9-5 jobs, freedom from the city, freedom from the expectations of others, mostly. And the freedom that comes with spending time in nature. But then there’s freedom from self-doubt, freedom from judging yourself against societal norms, and freedom from those societal norms that is so much harder to achieve. Not sure we’ll ever get there, but feel we’re heading in the right direction.

Family, now that’s a BIG important one. Our family of four is closer than ever – and possibly leaning towards co-dependent – maybe – don’t worry, we’ll pivot if need be. Since Nick and I both work from home, we’re practically omni-present with our kids, though not always engaged – working on it. We spent our Saturdays at the farmers market this summer together, read chapter books nearly every night together, travel together, work together, and play together, and I like it. My husband and boys are my FAVORITE people to be around, even when they quite frankly suck (#truthbomb).

Hanging at our Spooner Farmers Market this summer with the boys.

In summary, in the last two years since moving to the Northwoods, we’ve started a farm and small business, quit and changed jobs (because we still gotta work off the farm too), established a community and customers, made friends, chased dreams, fulfilled dreams, made new dreams, pulled ourselves out of despair, conquered fears, found joy and gratitude, and fulfilled and exceeded many of our expectations. But this is only the beginning…

My beautiful family on the farm late this summer. (Nick, Me, Townes on left and Ryker by me on right)

A Year in Review – the good, the bad, & the scary

January 2, 2019January 19, 2019 / Adventure This Life / 1 Comment

It only seems fitting that on the first day of the new year I look back and review the previous year and share it with you. Because, although I share a lot, I haven’t shared it all. And 2018 was a year that emotionally and mentally brought me to my knees in despair, elevated my joy in earnest, and all but eliminated my pride.

Taking a walk in our greenhouse

Joy. Courage. Faith.

Never one for New Year’s resolutions, a few years ago I adopted a bit of a new tradition, inspired I believe, by Brene Brown (check her out; she’s amazeballs). Instead of overwhelming myself with all the ways and things I should do to become a better person, I instead adopted a word to guide and direct my actions and decisions for that year.

My word for 2017 was “joy,” and consequently the year Nick and I decided to make a major change based solely on what brought us joy. Not what was financially the smartest or most secure, otherwise we would have stayed put in our home and in our jobs, which you know by now, we didn’t do.

Townes and Ryker exuding sheer joy at the Mall of America this Christmas season visiting Santa

Then in 2018, my word became “courage.” Courage in all things big and small. Courage to start over in a new state. Courage to leave the city and all we had ever known for a life in the country. Courage to build a business. Courage to trust ourselves. Courage to live daily in the unknown. Courage to ask for help. And courage to leave my job and forgo the security and stability it offered.

Our woods

Now, in 2019, my word is “faith.” Faith in myself, in my abilities and my dreams. Faith in the unknown, believing that it’ll all be okay. Faith in our farm and our business, that we’ll be able to make a living. Faith in God, and, in the words of the Alchemist, “the universe [that] will conspire to help us.” Faith in my family and children. Faith in my decisions, values, gifts, talents, and purpose. Faith in humanity. Faith, that no matter what, I can claim the sky.

Hanging in the rain by our pond

The “Good”

All-in-all, 2018 was a good year. I met amazing people here in Cumberland, made new friends, and started to immerse myself in this wonderful community.

I exerted courage doing many new things.

I took country line dancing lessons.
I raised ducklings successfully into adulthood.
I got a part-time (two Saturdays/month) job at a local boutique outfitters, Idlewild Outfitters, to meet people and learn sales.
I chased a lifelong dream of being a Cub Scout and became the den leader of my boys’ Tiger den.
I volunteered for the Boys & Girls Clubs of Barron County.
I commissioned my first independent consulting gig.
I started this blog.
I helped build a yurt!

Heading to country line dancing

Ducklings

Working at Idlewild

Volunteering at annual Bingo Fundraiser

Roller skating with Cub Scouts

Yurt

And many wonderful things happened on the farm.

Though we didn’t get as far as we would have liked, we made loads of progress on the farm.
An adorable stray kitty, now named Turnip, showed up out of the blue this summer and has chosen to let us adopt him.
We ate so much wonderful fruit we discovered growing on our property: plums, apples, strawberries, raspberries, cherries, and black raspberries. Plus deliciously huge asparagus.
We witnessed the most beautiful sunsets.
Our home was almost always filled with loved ones.
We adopted chickens, and they lay the most beautiful eggs and are hilarious to have around.

Then there were the moments of quiet joy that would break through my angst and depression with realization of the life I’m so lucky to live. Surrounded by beauty and nature. Taking care of animals. Working from home. Being part of a community. Loved by my family.

Walking in our field of Goldenrod

The “Bad” and the “Scary”

I’m a bit hesitant to call what I’m about to say, “bad” simply because it’s what brought me to my most courageous moments.

For the last couple of years I had been dealing with an intense lack of purpose. My values were evolving and my life and career were beginning to feel out of alignment with them.

I was loathing a job I once loved and felt trapped in what was beginning to feel like purposeless work. Then I began to fear I’d lose the job I once loved, and fear I’d keep the job I now loathed. I felt useless, purposeless, and stuck.

Then, last summer, it all came to a head and I found myself for the first time experiencing self-loathing and crippling anxiety. I sought help and started seeing a therapist and was put on Zoloft.

As I started feeling better I began having productive conversations with my boss. Nearly nine years I had been on his team, and I was attached, but it was time for me to move on. And so, I did the scariest thing that I’ve ever done in my life. November 2, 2018, I left a job with fantastic benefits, a 401K, a pension, flexible hours, and amazing people for the unknown. I honestly don’t know what’s in store for me next and it scares the crap out of me. But for the first time in a couple of years, I’m positively excited about all the possibility that exists ahead of me. I’m still afraid, but this fear feels right and good.

Christmas time with my handsome hubs

So, onto 2019 with new and wonderful possibility.

A walk in the butterfly garden last summer

Where has our child-like faith in ourselves gone?

August 16, 2018 / Adventure This Life / Leave a comment

And can we get it back?

I remember as a child believing I could fly. I’d tie a towel around my neck, swing as high as I could on the backyard swing, then at its highest point, I’d jump — and I’d fly. Never mind that I was told that people can’t fly. And so what if I crashed to the ground on all fours only a second later. I had flown and I knew it. All I had to do to fly was believe and try. The two most natural and innate things to a child.

Then I became an adult, a wife, a mom, a career woman, and somewhere along the way I stopped believing that I could fly. I lost sight of the sky to the view of a shingled roof and bad fluorescent lights. I started doubting my gifts and talents and what I was capable of, trading my child-like faith in myself for financial security, safety, and reputation.

I swapped my faith for fear and my dreams for reality because that’s what adults do and that’s what they teach their children. “Get a job.” “Buy a house.” “Provide for your family.” “Make something of yourself.” “Have the things we couldn’t provide for you.” “Be better than us.”

What adults forget when they’re no longer children, is as children we never wanted more than we had — not really. We played swords with broken branches, traveled the seas and made our friends walk the plank on old seesaws, became stately queens of great lands in our mother’s old worn heels, and flew the skies with dragons and unicorns in worn, dusty towels. Everything we had was enough. We were enough.

As children we found ourselves equal to kings and queens, presidents and celebrities, geniuses and philanthropists, the homeless and the sick, the poor and the rich, and the athletes and handicapped. We believed that we could do or become anything or anyone and so could everyone else. We believed we were enough — all of us.

Last week during my weekly two-hour commute home from work, for a brief moment I felt that belief again. And I reached for it, rejoiced over it and mourned over my loss of it. Then I wondered why I ever stopped believing in myself? Why was it so difficult now to believe I am capable of anything when as a child I innately believed in my invincibility?

So, this is my goal: to fly again, even when others say it’s not possible, even if I inevitably fall to my hands and knees over and over again. I need to at least believe and try. Because how much more beautiful and fulfilling would life be if we all started believing we could fly?

Becoming a market garden

July 26, 2018July 26, 2018 / Adventure This Life / 9 Comments

Wowza has it been awhile since I last wrote. I’ve started and stopped many times. The last few months have been a fury of emotions as I come to the tail end (hopefully) of my 2-year existential crisis (What am I doing? Why? Is it enough? Does it matter? And does it align with my evolving values?). Now I’m ready to rock and roll. Let the pendulum swing baby because this life that I want to live is about to take shape.

First things first — what have we been doing on the farm this summer?

Ready for it? Drum roll please….(dum-dum-dum)…we’ve been building a market garden! Man oh man has it been a lot of work. I’m super pumped to share with you what we’ve done so far, what we’re learning, and why we’re doing it.

“So…for a friend who’s asking, what is a market garden?”

I’m super glad your “friend” asked because I’m dying to tell ~~you~~ them.

Now, it’s possible that if your “friend” googled “market garden” they may get a slightly different answer, but in a nutshell, this is how I understand the term (remember, I’m learning too). A market garden can vary in size, many being anywhere from an 1/8 of an acre to 7 acres or larger. The crops are typically a variety of veggies (or flowers) and sold direct to consumers through a farmer’s market, farm stand, CSA, and even restaurants.

Apparently more goes into a market garden than meets the eye, which is why we’re a bit behind schedule and why Nick’s tanned and toned bod is looking so good — but I digress. You’ll just have to see it for yourself ;). Anyway, keeping it as brief as possible (sort of), here are the steps, with photos, we’ve taken so far in building our market garden.

Step 1: Preparing the land — tree roots and bulldozers

As you may remember from a previous post, our property isn’t ideal for farming, even on a small scale. It’s heavily wooded and very hilly. So, before we could get started with the garden, we had to cut down about 40 trees, pull the roots and level the ground. Nick cut the trees then once the ground thawed we hired people with big equipment to pull out the roots and start leveling.

Starting the leveling

Almost done!

Step 2: Picking rock — dollars and buckets

Oh the amount of rock that had to be picked out of the 1/2 acre dirt pit that would soon become a garden. And it just keeps coming up! Nick got creative and started paying the boys $1 for every 5-gallon bucket they filled with rock (not worth it in my opinion, but the kids took to it like a fly to poop).

Rock pile from picking rock

Step 3: Testing the soil — calf poop and compost

This is something we should have done prior to buying the property, but alas we didn’t. Live and learn I guess. And that’s what we’re doing — learning by living. We don’t really know what we’re doing. In theory, yes, but in practice it’s a whole different ball game.

The soil test consisted of filling a few containers with dirt and sending them out to get tested by experts. Based on the results we needed to add a dash of this and a dollop of that to create the perfect recipe for growing nutrient rich veggies. So we add crushed limestone and compost to start.

Some day we hope to make our own organic compost, but in the meantime, we’re dependent on others. Turns out compost is hard to find around here — especially the amount we needed to get started (24 yards). In the end we purchased calf poop from a nearby farmer. Zero waste and supporting local. Now that’s what I’m talking about!

Step 4: Making the beds — playtime and tractors

Now, this is the step that got Nick all sorts of jacked. He finally got to play with his own big equipment (Ew gross! Not that!), a walk-behind tractor.

For our market garden we’re using a no-till permanent bed system. This is because we have a large amount of clay in our soil which can water log the crops if there’s nowhere for the water to flow. So, using a permanent bed system allows the rainwater to run off the beds in small trenches that runs down into the pond or slowly gets absorbed into the ground. There’s more to it than that, but I usually tune Nick out at that point. It is interesting though — REALLY!

Nick playing with his big equipment (AKA walk-behind tractor)

After all the beds were made

Step 5: Covering the beds — weeds and waiting

We’ve decided that it’s important for us to be responsible and respectable stewards of the land and all living things, which is why we’re choosing not to use chemicals, and also why there’s clover all over our yard. For that reason, instead of spraying to kill our weeds, we covered the beds with a black tarp. Without sunlight and with the intense heat, over time, the weeds and grass all die off. We’ve had our garden beds tarped for the last couple of months (minus two beds for test crops). And it appears to be working!

The garden beds covered in black tarp to kill the weeds and grass underneath

Step 5: Building a greenhouse — sledge hammers and metal posts

This isn’t done yet, but we (Nick) did get the frame of the greenhouse up. And let me tell you, watching Nick work that sledge hammer has done wonders for our marriage. I’m telling you, that I just can’t tell you what that does to me.

Moving on…

We bought the frame of the greenhouse from a friend of a friend. The next steps, so Nick tells me, are to level the inside of the greenhouse, put the ends on, and then cover it all in plastic walls. There’s a few other things that’ll go into it too, like a fan, possibly insulation, etc. The greenhouse will be used in addition to the outdoor garden beds.

Greenhouse skeleton. This will be used to grow cucumbers and tomatoes.

Evening close-up of the greenhouse

Step 6: Growing test crops — baby roots and lettuces

We’ve reluctantly come to terms that we won’t get to a point of selling veggies this year. Everything is taking longer and has a bigger learning curve than we anticipated. That being said, we’re using this year as one of learning and are taking the opportunity to grow a few test crops, including carrots, radishes, beets and three different types of greens. They were planted about two weeks ago. Now we wait and watch and learn.

Seeding the garden beds for our test crops

Greens mix

Radishes nearly two weeks in

Radishes a few days in

Rows of tomatoes

Tomato

Step 7: Finding our market — farmers markets and co-ops

Deciding to wait a year to start selling our veggies has allowed us the opportunity and time we need to find our customers, know our competitors, and determine our niche. We’re doing that by traveling to farmers markets, finding co-ops, and talking to people. This is where I get to shine. Nick shines everywhere else.

I don’t have any pictures of the markets so this raspberry from our apple orchard will have to suffice

As in life, nothing is going quite as expected. Sometimes it’s better or easier and sometimes it’s worse or harder. That’s when we tell each other and ourselves, that this, the painful learning and growing and joy of going after a dream, is the adventure we’re after.

Our 7 steps to “here” — finding courage, fighting fear

January 23, 2018February 2, 2018 / Adventure This Life / Leave a comment

I remember exactly one year ago when Nick and I started seriously discussing buying land to farm and homestead, we had no idea how to do it.

We heard about other people doing it, but they had money – capital if you will – to get started. Their land was given to them. They had a job they could do from home. They knew how to farm or knew people who knew how to farm. They were different from us. They had it easier.

So, for nearly a year we talked and brainstormed about how we could make this work. How could we purchase land, have jobs that allowed us to live in a rural location, and afford to fund a small business? And on top of it all, where in the heck would we find the time to do it all?

These are the seven steps we took to get here. There are a million paths to any destination, this is our path.

1. Getting started — where there’s a will there’s a way

What we eventually discovered was, “where there’s a will, there’s a way.” And so we started to set things into motion, having faith that we’d be okay. But what to do first? Find a new job? Sell our house? Pay off school loans? Save up more money? What we eventually learned is you just have to start somewhere. So somewhere is where we started.

2. Living on half as much

A year-in-a-half ago Nick quit his full-time job as an MRI technologist to take care of the twins and run the house. He took this time while at home to discover what he wanted to do next. It was a year of growth and discovery for him, and an important year for our family. Through this decision we were brought to this dream of where we are today. And, although our household income was nearly cut in half, we barely noticed a difference. This, we discovered, would set the stage that would allow our family of four to live on one income and enable Nick to work full time on the farm.

3. Liquifying assets — selling two houses

It’s amazing how the universe will accommodate you when you start putting things into motion.

We were currently living in a beautiful home in a rural suburb on the eastern border of Minnesota (Afton, MN). We also owned a starter home in St. Paul that we had been renting out the last four years. (This was the first house we purchased as a married couple and hadn’t been able to sell it since buying it during the housing boom in 2004.)

We sold our house in Afton first. It sold in 24 hours at nearly $20k over the asking price with 4 bids. We were gobsmacked.

Next step, move into our rental property and get that ready to sell.

We lived in our St. Paul home from August to November. We spent August and September repainting everything, updating the kitchen, gutting the bathroom, and carpeting the attic. Then we listed that house. It sold in three days at $7k over the asking price with three offers . Again, we were shocked and incredibly grateful. Things seemed to be working in our favor.

4. Paying off debt

This section deserves even more of a focus because this is where we get into how we funded our soon-to-be farm/homestead/business. For that reason, I’ll provide a brief overview in this post and do a follow-up post later with all the financial details.

We haven’t yet decided if paying off all of our school loans was truly the best financial approach (instead of keeping a majority of cash earned form the sale of two houses to fund the business), but I have no regrets — at least not yet. We wanted to enter this dream with zero debt so we would have the flexibility we’d need in our jobs and our new, courageous and adventure-filled lives.

We made a substantial amount of money from selling our home in Afton, which I’ll share in a follow-up post. We used this money to pay off our school loans, credit card balance, and our 20% down payment on our new house. The money we made from the sale of our rental property is what we’re using to fund most of the start-up costs for the farm.

5. Working from home — you don’t get what you don’t ask for

That was probably one of my most valuable lessons learned in 2017.

I worked at a fairly traditional 9-5 job managing a small team in marketing at a large corporation. Though we had lots of workplace flexibility on the team, working from home full-time hadn’t yet been explored. So, assuming this wasn’t an option, I was too scared to ask. It took me months to muster up the courage. When I finally did, though it wasn’t an enthusiastic, immediate yes, it was definitely a supportive “I’m going to do everything I can to help you do this,” which did eventually turn into a “yes.”

I now work from home four days a week and make the two-hour commute into the office one day a week. Though it’s been a bit of an adjustment, it’s also been a dream come true for this desperately-needs-to-be-free girl.

6. Downsizing — spending less on the next house

We know that starting a new business in farming is going to be financially straining and physically exhausting. We know it will take a lot of time and money. Which is why we decided that the next house we purchase would cost even less than our previous house. This would continue to allow us flexibility in our jobs, but also in our lives. So, we bought a smaller home on a few less acres than we originally anticipated but that cost less than our last house. (Again, I’ll go in more detail about the financials in a subsequent post.)

7. Letting go

The summer of 2017 was probably one of the hardest, scariest, most stressful times of mine and Nick’s life. Moving three times in less than four months (and with a new puppy and two five-year olds) challenged us like never before. But we learned another really important lesson last summer — let go.

Let go of fear. Let go of desire. Let go of how we think things ought to be and instead follow our hearts and let the universe take it from there. Continuously letting go, or at least being present and aware of our fears, desires, and insecurities, got us through one of the most challenging times of our lives and it gave us the courage to get to here.

City girl gone country

January 9, 2018January 11, 2018 / Adventure This Life / 2 Comments

November 3, 2017, I moved to 16 acres in a tiny town I’ve never heard of before in the middle of nowhere, Cumberland, Wi.

Born and raised in St. Paul, I was never more than 10 minutes from, well, really anything, except for maybe a farm. As an extrovert, the constant commotion of the lights, movement and noise energized and awakened me. I was happy in the city and I liked it — still do. It’s all I’ve ever really known. But there’s something I’ve always liked, perhaps even more than the city — the country. Maybe because, until now, it’s been a novelty to me. Nevertheless, I was enamored with it and it inspired me.

Every summer as a girl I’d spend two weeks on a bee farm (not sure that’s really the technical term for it) located 30 minutes outside of Alexandria, MN*. Over 360 acres of rolling hills, woods, prairie and a pond. It truly was, and still is, heaven on earth. Those two weeks each summer were what dreams were made of (minus the ticks, I hate ticks).

I spent hours on end outdoors with my little cousins making forts in the tall prairie grasses, racing through the woods on ATVs, catching gardener snakes for a local pet shop, and then frogs to feed the gardener snakes, exploring an old dilapidated barn that defied all safety regulations, and seeing how close we could get to the pond before our feet would get sucked into the mud.

I grew up, and spent significantly less time in the country, but the magic and wonder of the outdoors never left me.

This blog is the story about how I left all I knew in the city to start something I knew nothing about, a small scale farm and homestead in the country.

I hope this blog will inspire you, not to move to the country, unless of course that’s what you want to do, but to live out your childhood dreams and further explore your passions.

Enjoy!

*The bee farm I spent my summers at is actually the Reece family farm. It’s owned by my mom’s cousins and they make local raw honey. It’s delicious.