Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time.
To live on a farm, live off the land. Raise animals, grow vegetables and cook from scratch. Have a whole mess of kids and let them run wild.
I suppose I don’t really need a time-machine to do those things– to varying degrees my family is already doing them in our modest, suburban home.
This weekend we visited a family favorite: local treasure, Virginia City. A time capsule of an 1800’s mining town, it is ripe with history. We often bring out-of-state guests here.
Then yesterday, we took a field trip to the local museum here in town, which boasts a living history homestead (how I wish I could claim my own 160 acres for the $10 fee it cost to file the paperwork) where my dear friend/neighbor is employed this summer. She is a history teacher by trade, and rather than languish during the summer months, she is using her gifts (including renowned pie-making talent) to bless the community further.
Most visitors seemed amused, even unnerved, by the lack of modern convenience in the old farmhouse , but I longed to take up permanent residence.
For now, this is the farm on our homestead…
… looks like we have a way to go before we are ready for 160 acres.