My Abandoned Homestead: Everything I Ever Wanted
Progress, Patience, and a Pile of Woodchips
The past few weeks at the homestead have felt full-on in the best way. It finally feels like everything is beginning to fall into place. I’ve spent as much time working as I have pausing in complete reverence for how far things have come.
One of the things I’m most excited about is that I’m getting ready to launch my online store. It may still be a couple of weeks (or even a month) away, but it’s genuinely in motion. I’m equally daunted and inspired by it—nervous that I might overwhelm myself with shipping orders, while also so excited for people to finally receive items they’ve long waited for. I’ve been working with a former colleague to bring clarity to the branding… something I deeply enjoy but simply don’t have the bandwidth to handle myself right now. I trust that she’ll bring this venture to life in the most thoughtful, whimsical way.
It’s honestly surreal that, in some ways, I’m continuing the legacy of the general store. It may be online now, but I’m still selling goods—items the original shopkeepers never imagined would one day be valued. Objects they likely discarded without a second thought, and yet here I am, a century later, finding them beautiful, inspiring, and worth sharing. I’m honored to carry the spirit of the store forward in this new form.
Although I’m not selling herbs (yet), I did harvest my first round this week and laid them out on an old drying rack that was already in the general store. In some small way, I feel like the building continues to provide for me in ways I never expected. Smelling fresh herbs upstairs—hand-picked from the garden—is something I wish everyone could experience. I can’t wait to tuck them into jars and label them. It all feels like a quiet manifestation of my long-held dream of becoming an herbalist. Life may have taken me down a different path, but the power and magic of plants has never let me go.
