This is about urban homesteading now--and here's why

Until now, this was a basically-defunct blog about growing vegetables in a community garden while I was at college.  It served as a garden log for me and my plot, and if a few people felt like reading it that was okay too.  Since my last post here in November 2012, a lot has changed.  I gave my senior voice recital, performed with a choir at Carnegie Hall, and graduated college.  I handed the garden over to a friend.  I transitioned from studying music to a farming career when I took an organic farm job near my hometown in Massachusetts, and then another.  I worked harder than I ever have and learned so much at those two farms.  The only big thing that hadn't changed since 2012 was my desire to come back to California.  My boyfriend, B, and I had decided that since he had a firm job offer in Long Beach at the end of his summer internship, I would move to California--there are lots of farm jobs in SoCal, and since my work is seasonal, I could just move out at the end of the farming season was over in Massachusetts.

At the time of the move, job prospects looked bright--I was in the midst of a fairly in-depth interview process for a job as an agricultural technician (field crew for a lab studying agricultural issues, basically), web searches turned up organic farms aplenty, and a few different farm coworkers told me to be on the lookout for pruning gigs, as those are often available in California from November to February.  Since I wasn't moving in with B and didn't want to sign a lease sight unseen, I found a room for rent by the week in someone's house--a place to stay for a week or two while I found a job and an apartment.  I had saved a lot by living at home over the summer while I was working, so I wasn't worried about getting by for a while on savings.  Everything that would fit went in the back of my truck, and my mom and I set off on our cross-country road trip.  One week and 3,350 miles later, we were in Orange County.

Once I was here, though, a lot of the promise dried up.  The interview and waiting process for that job dragged on for seven long weeks, before ultimately hearing that I was their second choice candidate and their first choice had accepted.  I sent resumes to several local organic farms, and in almost every case got very positive responses to my qualifications and experience followed by, "We're not hiring right now because November is the start of our slow season."  A week or two of treading water looking for an apartment turned into a month or two, living in someone else's house and paying for everything out of savings.  B had introduced me to a friend of his who was looking for a roommate, and Roomie and I started looking for an apartment together, but with me still jobless it was hard to find someplace willing to take a risk on us.  I realized I could probably get a non-farming job, but I wasn't willing to give up on my dream, and it looked like I could probably make it until April on what I had left in savings if I was careful.  Then, in December B left his job, for which he had originally come to Orange County (he ended up not taking the Long Beach job, opting for this job in his desired field instead).  Both partners unemployed does not a happy couple make, and December was a tough month, individually and collectively.  Instead of just me, now we were both looking for work, stressing about money, feeling guilty about any time we spent doing anything besides looking for work, and snapping at each other more than we would've liked.  It was my first Christmas away from my family, and that week was sort of a somber end to 2013.

The first week of January, I sent out a few resumes to a few more farms, and one owner called me back not two hours later.  I hung up the phone with him having agreed to a Saturday farm stand gig with the possibility to do some actual farming if it worked out.  He offered me a farming job that first Saturday, and I was ecstatic.  Over the next few weeks, I started a massive spring cleanup on the two-acre farm, took over the day-to-day farm duties at that site, and began drawing up a crop and rotation plan.  The owner still oversaw things very loosely on that property, but was more actively involved with some new acreage in Temecula and the crew there.  I was basically left to my own devices, using my judgment to decide what needed doing and then do it--fine by me!  2014 was shaping up to be a pretty solid year so far.  Four weeks after I started, following a meeting with his business partners, the owner let me know I was being laid off due to budgetary constraints, effective immediately.  Last in, first out, wouldn't you know.

My first thought was, "Seriously?!?!"  It felt like just when I'd caught a big break, that dried up, too.  I don't need to be rich, I just want to work, I thought.  (Side note: that's 100% true.  I've never been more bored in my LIFE than that unemployed period in November and December.  No way did I want to go back to that.)  And now it looked like back to the drawing board.

Going back to the job search felt like an enormous failure.  I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but I took a while to wallow before actually kicking the job search back into high gear.  B had a big break, and started a new job in his field at the beginning of February.  Roomie and I finally found an apartment we loved in our price range, but still no farm job in sight for me.  I decided to diversify, and branch out from farming into other things I cared about--bookstores, health food stores, various music jobs, even some restaurants since I have experience there.  I did a bunch of applying and looking, and after almost 2 months of unemployment... drum roll please...today I got a job offer!  It's with a company whose values and product I really support, and I've heard from employees that it's a great place to work.  However, it's not full-time, though I'm told there is potential to increase your hours over time.  It'll still take some careful budgeting and balancing to make the math work--but at least I can make it work if I put in that effort.

I drew up a long list the day of that interview of ways to save money, looking at my looming financial crunch if nothing happened on the job front.  (Normal way to deal with nerves before an interview, right?)  Many of those ideas were based in homesteading techniques and practices: buying food in season when it's cheap and preserving it to eat when it's not cheap, repurposing things rather than throwing them away and buying new, making do with what I have, growing some of my own food--for me that means pots on the balcony, but it's something.

Homesteading is not just nostalgic, it's practical.  And no matter where you are, whatever resources you have, you can probably apply a few tools from the homesteading toolbox in your life.

This is about urban homesteading now, not just because it's something that I think is fun, which it definitely is, but also because it's part of how I make ends meet.  So it's for people like me.  But the great thing about it is how widely applicable this homesteading thing is this: it's also for people who are NOT like me. This is for the country mice in the city, and also for city mice who might want to become country mice.  This is for the unemployed, the underemployed, the overworked and underpaid, the underworked and overpaid, the stay-at-homes, the work-at-homes, and the homemakers.  For the real food, organic food, local food, GMO-free, gluten-free, nut-free, and dairy-free partisans.  For people who want to live more frugally or more simply.  For people who like the DIY mentality.  For people trying to strrrrrrrreeeeeetttttttch a dollar.  For people trying to get rid of industrial chemicals in their food, homes, and lives.  For people just looking to try something new.  The only thing you need to add a little homesteading into your life is the desire for change from the way things are, and a little bit of know-how (it was a lot less than I thought!).  And that's what I'm here to talk about.