There are few things that are symbolic of my new life like making my own laundry soap. When a friend once mentioned that she made her own, I didn’t value it like I do now. Seriously, I thought: “well, that’s a waste of time since you can just go to the grocery and buy it.” Now, I make my own laundry soap. And yes, you can still just drive to the store and buy it.
So, why make my own? Lots of reasons. Mostly, I’m incredibly curious about how to actually make common consumable products. Somewhere along the way, we lost those skills. Instead, everything got packaged in plastic, put on a shelf in an ever-expanding grocery store and our landfills began overflowing with the waste products of that convenience (which is, by the way, the second reason I make my own soap). Making it yourself is my small contribution to maintaining those homestyle skills our grandmothers once had while also helping in a small way to save the environment.
Plus, it’s fun.
I can pick up all of the ingredients I need – soap flakes, borax and washing soda – at the same said grocery, each in a cardboard (read: recyclable) box. Adding equal parts of each item and stirring together, I get a low-residue, high-efficiency laundry soap. Finally, I can keep all of the ingredients on-hand so we’re never rushing to the grocery because we ran out of laundry soap. When you live 14 minutes from town by car, that is at least a half-hour saved, once you consider parking, walking in and out of the store and finding your item and paying for it.
But this weekend, I’ve taken some time to think about how my life is different and how the demands of my life are such that there really isn’t time for me to work in the traditional American way anymore. (The traditional American way being leaving for work by 7:15 a.m., arriving home after 5 p.m. and trying to fit in the rest of life, including a homemade dinner, by 10 p.m.) It’s not just the laundry soap or the ketchup or the clothesline. It’s how they work altogether.
This weekend, at the end of January, we need to take a few hours and pick out the seeds we need for spring plant starting. In particular, seed potatoes go fast and if you don’t choose early, you may well be boxed out for a season. But picking out the seeds means deciding what to grow. That, too, will take some time. Which rows need to go fallow? Which food are we still overstocked on from prior years? That isn’t hard to figure out but it all goes into the calculus.
At the same time, with four pets and an allergy to dust and pet dander, this weekend was a deep-cleaning session for me. That has to happen at least every other week and it’s a four-hour (at least) cleaning adventure. As I’m doing that, Darryl has been prepping the stair nosing for the first board of our hardwood floors upstairs. And that’s just winter.
In spring, we need to spend evenings and weekends planting as well as cleaning up the yard from winter’s ravages. It takes a few four-hour cleanup days and at least 7-10 seed planting days when you think about getting the “grow operation” set up, mixing up starter and watching the over 300 plants we will start take root. Mowing starts soon into spring and each trip on the mower (with spin trimming) is about 4-5 hours apiece. In spring and through mid-summer, mowing can be as often as twice a week.
In summer, there is incessant garden work. Watering, weeding, replanting and even trying to get two harvests when possible. While a zen-like experience for Darryl, that on top of hanging out laundry, mowing, pet care and cleaning can suck up an intensive amount of time. In fall, there’s obviously harvesting which takes all of the oxygen out of the room. If it’s a bumper crop year, I can work 10-15 hours a week just taking care of produce. And as produce will remind you quickly: ignore it at your peril. Winter would normally be “catchup time” except we are still renovating. So, winter – that season before Darryl needs to train in earnest for whatever athletic event he will be doing – is our time to get whatever renos we still need to do done.
And that’s why its harder. I spend a lot of self-talk and even interactions with my colleagues disparaging my own toughness or work dedication. I realized this weekend what a disservice I’m not just doing to myself but to people like me who are truly engaged in living differently. I’m not weak and I’m not washed up. Instead, this life I have outside of work is pretty demanding, usually an extra 15-20 hours a week. Most of it, from the mowing to the cleaning to the harvesting, is incredibly time sensitive. I work when the work demands it.
And that’s what’s different about my life. I don’t drive to the grocery for laundry soap or fresh produce. We aren’t a zero-pet household, which would be more allergy-friendly for me. We do have a huge garden, yard and renovation project. I’m needed elsewhere in my life and that’s okay. Ever since I decided that I wanted to live differently, I’ve been more satisfied and more content, so I think I’m done apologizing for it.
It is different. It is hard. But there is a quiet simplicity in doing for oneself that makes our lifestyle fulfilling. And I don’t think I’m ever going to give it up.
The Yuppie Homesteader 