Enough is Enough: The Raw Truth About Utah Homesteading

From One Fed-Up Homesteader to Anyone Still Paying for Store-Bought Eggs

Let me tell you something straight: if you’re out here in Utah talking about homesteading and you can’t gut a chicken, start a fire without a lighter, or preserve your own damn food, then you’re not homesteading. You’re cosplaying. And I’ve had it up to my straw hat with city folks pretending this life is all sunsets and sourdough starters.

We didn’t move out here to play pretend. We moved to get away from fragile systems, failing food chains, and the ever-suffocating noise of “convenience.” If you want to live this life—not just like it on Instagram—then roll up your sleeves. This lifestyle is brutal, beautiful, and not for the weak-minded.

Let me break it down for you with 15 skills you better learn yesterday if you’re going to make it through a winter in the Beehive State without crying into your cracked corn.


15 Homesteading Skills You Need in Utah (or Get Out of the Way)

  1. Canning and Food Preservation
    If you don’t know how to water bath or pressure can, you’re a liability. Period. Winters in Utah are unforgiving, and your garden’s not doing squat in January.
  2. Animal Husbandry
    Chickens, goats, pigs, rabbits—you need to know how to feed, breed, butcher, and heal them. If you flinch at blood, go back to Whole Foods.
  3. Seed Saving
    Buying new seeds every year? That’s not sustainable. Learn how to select, dry, and store seeds, or become dependent on the very system you claimed to reject.
  4. Composting
    You’re wasting gold if you’re tossing out scraps. Learn to compost properly and feed your soil, not the landfill.
  5. Basic Carpentry
    You’re not calling a contractor every time a coop door falls off. Learn to swing a hammer, measure twice, and build once.
  6. Firewood Cutting and Stacking
    If you heat with wood, you better start chopping in spring. You think you’re tough? Try splitting six cords by hand in July heat.
  7. Soap Making
    Your ancestors didn’t smell like lavender-vanilla nonsense. Learn to render fat, make lye, and keep your skin from falling off in the dry Utah air.
  8. Beekeeping
    If you’re not raising bees, you’re missing out on honey, wax, and crucial pollination. Plus, if you’re sweet, they’ll sting you—build character.
  9. Dutch Oven Cooking
    Campfire cooking isn’t just cute—it’s survival. If you can’t cook beans and cornbread in the wild, you’re dead weight.
  10. Fermentation
    Sauerkraut, kimchi, sourdough—these aren’t hipster trends. They’re preservation techniques, gut-health gold, and power-packed flavor.
  11. Off-Grid Power Knowledge
    Solar, wind, battery banks—you don’t get a pass when the power grid quits. Know how to run lights, charge radios, and keep the freezer cold.
  12. Irrigation and Water Management
    Utah’s dry, buddy. You better know how to move water, catch rain, and keep your soil moist without wasting a drop.
  13. Butchering and Meat Processing
    Don’t raise animals if you can’t face the knife. It’s a sacred act. Learn it, respect it, and do it right.
  14. Basic Veterinary Skills
    You don’t get to run to the vet every time a goat limps. YouTube it, stitch it, splint it—your animals depend on you.
  15. Root Cellaring
    Old school and underrated. If your carrots rot before December, you did it wrong. Build it. Use it.

3 DIY Homestead Hacks That Actually Work

Because I know not everyone’s made of money, here are three homemade solutions that actually pull their weight.

1. The Pallet Palace Chicken Coop

Don’t spend $2,000 on some prefab piece of junk. Get yourself six free pallets, a drill, and some scrap tin roofing. Line it with straw, cut out a few egg doors, and boom—you’ve got a sturdy, weather-tight coop for near-zero dollars. Bonus: it’s ugly enough to keep HOA types far away.

2. Gutter-to-Barrel Rain Catch System

Utah’s water laws are strict, but rain catchment up to 2 barrels per property is legal. So do it! Run gutters from your shed or home into a food-grade 55-gallon drum. Add a screen to keep the bugs out and a spigot at the bottom. There’s your free irrigation water.

3. The Five-Gallon Bucket Milking Stool

One old bucket, a chunk of 2×10, and some screws. Boom—you’ve got a portable milking stool and storage bucket in one. Add a lid, and your goat milk stays clean while you work.


A Word About Utah Living

Utah’s no joke. Between the high elevation, dry climate, and unpredictable seasons, it’s not the place to dabble. You need grit. Snow can hit in October and the sun can cook your garden in June. You’ll be cursing the alkaline soil, battling gophers, and praying your tomato plants hold on through late frosts.

And don’t get me started on property taxes and zoning. You want to build a tiny house or live in an RV? Good luck. You’ll need to be part attorney, part rebel, and 100% unshakable to keep your homestead legal and functional.


My Final Rant (For Now)

I don’t care if you’ve got matching enamel cookware, cute aprons, or a sourdough starter named Martha. If you’re not working every single day to feed yourself, learn a new skill, or improve your land, then you’re just playing homestead theater.

The grid is fragile. The food system is bloated and broken. If you think the grocery store will always be stocked, I hope you like powdered eggs and stale crackers. The only real security you have is what you can grow, raise, build, or fix with your own two hands.

So no more excuses. No more aesthetic photoshoots in flannel while you let your tomatoes die in the sun. Get out there. Work harder than you ever thought possible. Sweat more. Bleed a little. And earn your place in the dirt.

Because this—this raw, dusty, beautiful, back-breaking life—is the only real freedom left.

Tennessee Homestead Lifestyle: A Rant from a Fed-Up Homesteader

I tell you what, if one more city slicker rolls up my gravel drive asking if I “relax out here and drink herbal tea,” I might just go full possum-crazy on ‘em. This ain’t no Bed & Breakfast with chickens for decoration. This is a working homestead in Tennessee — land that sweats, bleeds, and gives back only what you wring out of it with busted knuckles and dawn-to-dark labor.

People think homesteading is cute until they’re waist-deep in goat crap at 5 a.m. trying to unjam a milker because the doe decided today’s the day she’s gonna kick like a two-stroke engine. This life ain’t for the faint-hearted, lazy, or Instagram filters. This is grit, firewood, sweat, and skill. And if you don’t have those, Tennessee will chew you up and spit you out next to the rusted lawnmowers.

Let me break it down for you folks who think this is some whimsical “back to the land” fairy tale. If you want to live the homestead lifestyle in Tennessee and not get run off by mold, wild hogs, weather tantrums, and your own damn ignorance, you’d better sharpen up the following 15 homesteading skills. Memorize them like gospel, because out here, they’re the difference between thriving and begging your cousin in Nashville to let you crash on their couch.


15 Homestead Skills You’d Best Learn (Or Quit Pretending You’re a Homesteader)

  1. Basic Carpentry – You’ll fix everything from the chicken coop to your own roof. Can’t swing a hammer? Go back to Target.
  2. Canning and Preserving – If you don’t know how to can tomatoes, pressure can beans, or make pickles that won’t botulize you, you ain’t eating come January.
  3. Animal Husbandry – Goats, chickens, rabbits, pigs. Know how to breed ‘em, feed ‘em, and treat ‘em when they get foot rot or coccidiosis. Don’t just Google it after they drop dead.
  4. Butchering – Yes, you need to know how to turn your animals into food. Respectfully. Humanely. Efficiently. If you cry too much to do it, buy your meat at Walmart and leave us alone.
  5. Seed Saving – Ain’t no guarantee that the feed store will have heirlooms when the next supply chain fiasco hits. Learn to save, dry, and store your seeds.
  6. Composting – If you’re tossing kitchen scraps in the trash, you’re wasting gold. Compost feeds your soil and your future crops. Learn the green/brown balance or enjoy your slimy, stinking pile.
  7. Basic Veterinary Care – Out here, the vet ain’t 15 minutes away. Learn to pull a calf, stitch up a wound, and treat worms yourself.
  8. Chainsaw Operation and Maintenance – You’ll be clearing trees, cutting wood, and maybe building a cabin with it. Dull chains and bad fuel mixes will ruin your day and your saw.
  9. Cooking from Scratch – If you need a box to bake a biscuit, don’t come out here. You should be able to whip up a meal from what’s in your pantry and garden.
  10. Foraging – Learn your local wild edibles and medicinals. Chickweed, plantain, morels, wild garlic. This land offers more than you realize, but not if you’re too blind to see it.
  11. Basic Plumbing – Gravity-fed water, rain catchment, septic systems — you’ll be your own maintenance guy or gal. And guess what? Pipe bursts don’t wait ‘til it’s convenient.
  12. Electrical Know-how – Solar panels, generators, battery banks — off-grid power takes brains and patience. Don’t blow yourself up.
  13. Tanning Hides – If you hunt or raise livestock for meat, don’t waste the hides. Learn how to tan them and make use of everything the animal gives.
  14. Firewood Management – Cut, split, season, stack. Know what wood burns hot and what smokes like a wet rag. Heating your home is a year-round job.
  15. Weather Reading – The weather man don’t live in your valley. You’ll learn to read the sky, smell the air, and feel when the storm’s coming.

Now, once you’ve got those skills (and don’t lie, you don’t), let’s talk DIY Homestead Hacks. Tennessee weather will swing from biblical droughts to soggy floods in a week, so these three hacks might just save your bacon.


3 DIY Homestead Hacks Every Tennessean Should Use

1. Gravity-Fed Rainwater System Using IBC Totes
Everyone acts shocked when their well pump dies or power goes out. You fool. You need backup water. Set up an elevated IBC tote system with first-flush diverters. Hook ’em to your gutters. Rain falls, tote fills, gravity does the rest. Add a Berkey-style filter at the end if you’re drinking it. Simple. Cheap. Life-saving.

2. Solar Dehydrator Made from Old Windows and a Box Fan
Tennessee humidity is a beast, but the sun’s generous. Build a solar dehydrator using reclaimed wood, black paint, an old fan (solar if you can rig it), and some screen shelves. Dehydrate your herbs, fruits, jerky — even fish. Stop wasting your freezer space and power on what the sun can handle.

3. Heated Chicken Waterer with a Concrete Block and a Lightbulb
Come winter, the chickens’ water freezes faster than you can say “eggbound.” Place a cinder block upside down, put an incandescent bulb inside (protected from pecking and moisture), and set your metal waterer on top. Boom — no frozen water and no $80 Amazon heater.


You still here? Still think this is a lifestyle for “simplicity” and “slowing down”? Lord help you. This life is about intentional hardship. The kind that feeds your soul while it breaks your back. Ain’t nothing simple about rising before daylight, bleeding in your garden, and praying your sow don’t miscarry in the cold snap. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Tennessee homesteading isn’t for soft hands or soft minds. It’s for folks with backbone, blistered palms, and a deep, unshakable love of land. It’s not rustic charm. It’s war — against decay, dependency, and modern stupidity. And every day you win a little ground, grow a little food, teach your kid to hold a hammer instead of a tablet — that’s a victory worth the scars.

So if you’re still dreaming of this life, put your boots on. Pick up a shovel. Get dirty. Get tired. Get smart. And for heaven’s sake, stop asking if I “name my chickens like pets.” Their names are Breakfast, Dinner, and Soup.

Now get off my porch. I’ve got beans to stake and a fence to mend before sundown.

The No-Nonsense Truth About the Texas Homestead Lifestyle

You want to know what the Texas homestead lifestyle is really like? Sit down, buttercup, because I’m about to serve you a hot, blistering plate of truth straight off a wood-fired stove. You think this life is all sunrises and jam jars? Think again. This isn’t a curated Instagram feed. This is blood, sweat, mosquitoes, goat crap, and the kind of weather that will try to kill you three different ways before lunch.

Don’t get me wrong—I love this life. But I’m sick and tired of hearing folks talk about homesteading like it’s some kind of picnic in a meadow. It’s WORK. It’s failure and lessons learned the hard way. And out here in Texas, the rules are different. This ain’t Vermont. It’s not Oregon. This is scorched earth, rattlesnake country. It’s hard. It’s wild. And it’s worth every busted knuckle and sunburn if you’ve got the grit for it.

Let’s talk about some real-deal homestead skills, not the “I grew basil on my balcony” nonsense. If you’re going to survive and thrive out here, you’d better know how to:


15 HOMESTEAD SKILLS YOU’D BETTER LEARN FAST (OR TAP OUT EARLY):

  1. Rainwater Harvesting – Texas ain’t known for gentle spring showers. When it rains, you collect it or you run dry. Build yourself a real rain catchment system, not a trash can with a screen on top.
  2. Pressure Canning – You’ve got to preserve food like your life depends on it. Because someday, it just might.
  3. Welding & Metalwork – Fences break. Gates bend. Tools snap. If you can’t fix steel, you’re going to bleed money or sit waiting for help.
  4. Chainsaw Safety & Use – Your land doesn’t care if you’re tired. Trees will fall, and brush will pile up. Know your saw, or lose a limb.
  5. Livestock Care – From goats to pigs to chickens, these animals don’t take weekends off. Know how to doctor ‘em, feed ‘em, and protect ‘em from coyotes and parasites.
  6. Butchering – You eat what you raise. If you can’t take an animal from pen to plate, you’re in the wrong lifestyle.
  7. Gardening in Clay & Sand – Texas soil is either concrete or powder. Learn how to build it, amend it, and grow in it—because you sure as hell won’t survive without it.
  8. Composting – Waste not, want not. Turn every scrap into soil gold.
  9. Gun Safety & Use – Out here, it’s not about politics. It’s about protection—from snakes, predators, and the occasional rabid skunk.
  10. Solar Panel Installation & Maintenance – The grid fails. Texas knows. Be ready to keep the lights on when the state can’t.
  11. First Aid & Herbal Medicine – Help is not five minutes away. Sometimes it’s an hour. Sometimes it’s never.
  12. Carpentry & Framing – Your structures are only as good as your worst board. Know how to swing a hammer and read a square.
  13. Fence Building (That Actually Holds Livestock) – I’m not talking about some decorative split rail nonsense. Build tight, straight, and strong—or your animals will be down the road making friends with the neighbor’s cattle.
  14. Root Cellar Construction – You want year-round food storage without paying a fortune in electricity? Dig deep—literally.
  15. Seed Saving – Learn to save your best performers. Buy once, plant forever.

3 DIY HOMESTEAD HACKS (REAL ONES THAT ACTUALLY WORK):

1. The Solar Oven You Can Build in a Weekend
Texas sun is brutal. Turn it into power. Get an old satellite dish, line it with aluminum foil or emergency blanket material, and focus the light into a cast-iron pot inside a glass or plexiglass box. Boom—free slow cooker. Perfect for summer when the thought of turning on the kitchen stove makes you nauseous.

2. Cattle Panel Greenhouse
Want a strong, cheap greenhouse that’ll survive windstorms and last for years? Use cattle panels bent into an arch and covered with UV-resistant plastic sheeting. Anchor with T-posts. You’ll have a 10×12 greenhouse for under $200—and no worries when a Texas gust tries to rip it to Oz.

3. Five-Gallon Bucket Nesting Boxes
Chickens will lay in ANYTHING if it’s dark, secure, and cozy. Cut a circle out of the side of a five-gallon bucket, fill with pine shavings, and mount sideways to a wall or rack. Bonus: easy to clean and replace when your hens get broody and poop up the place.


Now let’s talk about why people quit this life. Because they do—fast. You think it’s all sunsets and simplicity until you’ve spent 14 hours fixing a busted water line with duct tape, bailing wire, and prayer. And let’s not even talk about July. That heat doesn’t care about your dreams. It will cook your chickens alive, burn up your garden, and leave your goat waterers boiling hot by noon.

And yet…

Something keeps us going. Something deeper than convenience. It’s the knowledge that you’re building something real—something no corporation or politician or grid failure can take away. You make your food. You fix your home. You raise your animals. You keep your family safe with your own damn hands. That’s freedom, and it tastes better than anything you’ll find on a store shelf.

Texas isn’t easy. You’ve got fire ants, scorpions, 110° summers, and winters that drop below freezing without warning. But if you can make it here, if you can stick it out through the sweat, setbacks, and sheer stubborn work, then you’ll have something that no paycheck can buy: independence.

Don’t let the romantic crowd sell you snake oil. This life isn’t for the weak-willed or the faint-hearted. It’s for those who want to get up every day and face the land, head-on, no excuses. You’ll fail, sure. But you’ll learn. And you’ll get stronger, smarter, tougher.

So if you’re serious about living the Texas homestead lifestyle, put down the Pinterest board and pick up a shovel. You’ve got fences to mend, seeds to plant, and animals that don’t care about your feelings.

This is Texas. It’s hot, it’s hard, and it’s honest.

And it’s home.

—An Angry (But Proud) Texas Homesteader

The Rhode Island Homestead Life: Not for the Weak, Lazy, or Whiny

You want the truth about homesteading in Rhode Island? Fine. Sit down, shut up, and listen. This ain’t some Instagram-filtered fantasy where you grow lavender in a teacup and get paid in likes. This is real life. This is New England grit. This is Rhode Island, baby—where the summers are muggy, the winters are ruthless, and land doesn’t come cheap. But guess what? If you’re tough, stubborn, and about half-crazy, you can build a life out here worth its weight in heirloom tomatoes.

You want a homestead in the smallest damn state in the Union? Then you’d better be big in skills, big in heart, and not afraid of breaking your damn back.

Let me tell you something first: homesteading is not a hobby. It’s not something you do because you saw a cute TikTok with someone in overalls making sourdough. It’s a lifestyle. A choice. A full-contact sport. And around here, it requires a thick skin, a sharp mind, and a chainsaw that starts on the first pull.

Here are 15 skills you’d better damn well learn if you want to make it here:

  1. Canning and Food Preservation – Your garden might explode in July, but if you don’t know how to can, dehydrate, or ferment, you’ll be eating sad supermarket mush all winter.
  2. Seed Starting – You think you’ll just buy plants every year? Not at $5 a seedling you won’t. Start your own, indoors, in March. Get a grow light or watch them get leggy and die.
  3. Composting – You’re gonna make a lot of waste. You can either send it to the landfill or turn it into black gold. Your choice.
  4. Basic Carpentry – Chicken coops, rabbit hutches, raised beds, fences—get used to cutting wood and smashing your thumb with a hammer. Don’t be a baby.
  5. Animal Husbandry – Chickens aren’t “easy pets.” They’re walking targets. Know how to feed them, deworm them, and protect them from hawks, foxes, and your neighbor’s stupid dog.
  6. Beekeeping – You want honey? You want pollination? Then suit up and get buzzing. And yes, you will get stung.
  7. Butchering – If you can’t stomach killing what you raise, go back to Whole Foods. Around here, we respect the animal by doing the hard part ourselves.
  8. Firewood Chopping and Stacking – Rhode Island winters don’t play around. Learn to wield a maul or invest in a log splitter. Stack it right, or your pile will rot before Thanksgiving.
  9. Rainwater Collection – Our water bills are outrageous. Set up a gutter system and start collecting rain in barrels before you cry over your next utility bill.
  10. Cooking From Scratch – You’ve got 20 pounds of squash. Now what? Better know a dozen ways to cook it or you’ll hate the sight of it by January.
  11. Wool Spinning/Knitting – You raise sheep? Great. Now learn what to do with all that fleece. Winter is long, and wool socks are gold.
  12. Cheesemaking – Got goats or a milk cow? Learn to turn that milk into something edible before it curdles in your fridge.
  13. Maple Syrup Tapping – You got sugar maples? Good. Drill those suckers in February, boil for days, and end up with half a pint of syrup. It’s worth it.
  14. Cold Storage Building – A root cellar is your best friend. You can’t can everything. Sometimes, you just need a cool, dry place to stash potatoes.
  15. Fence Repair – Rhode Island is wet. Wet means rot. Your fence posts will fail. Your goats will escape. Learn to fix it quick or kiss your veggies goodbye.

Three DIY Homestead Hacks that Actually Work:

Hack #1: Pallet Power Raised Beds
Find a stack of free pallets (they’re everywhere if you know where to look—ask your local hardware store). Tear ’em down, pull out the nails, and build yourself raised garden beds. Slap on a coat of linseed oil if you’re feeling fancy. Boom—free lumber, less backache, and no tilling nonsense.

Hack #2: 5-Gallon Chicken Waterer
Winter sucks. Your chicken water freezes solid. So take a 5-gallon bucket with a lid, install a few nipple waterers on the bottom, and place it on a heated base (cinderblock + heat lamp works in a pinch). No more lugging frozen pails. Your birds stay hydrated. You stay sane.

Hack #3: Trash-to-Treasure Cold Frame
Old windows are gold. People throw ‘em out constantly. Grab one, build a slanted box with scrap wood, and bam—you’ve got a cold frame. Start your spring greens 4 weeks early, extend your fall crops, and rub it in your neighbor’s face.


Now listen. Homesteading in Rhode Island ain’t like Montana or Texas. You can’t just buy 50 acres for a handshake and a case of beer. You’re gonna pay through the nose for an acre, and the zoning board might make you fight for every goat, rooster, and shed. So get familiar with local ordinances. Learn to schmooze the town clerk. Show up to meetings. Be the “crazy farm person” who knows the law better than the law.

And don’t even get me started on the pests. Deer? Everywhere. Groundhogs? Little demons. Ticks? Ubiquitous. Your garden needs fencing like Fort Knox, and every animal needs a roofed pen or they’re lunch. Coyotes don’t care if it’s cute. They’re hungry.

Then there’s the weather. Rhode Island gives you everything. Blizzard in March? Check. Hurricane in September? Check. A heatwave in May? Absolutely. If you don’t have backups on backups—extra tarps, a generator, a sump pump—you’re gonna get wiped out.

But here’s the flip side. The reason we do this. The reason we keep going even when our hands are cracked and our knees ache and we smell like manure:

We eat like kings. Real food. Fresh food. Food with soul. We drink coffee with cream from our own cow. We eat eggs so orange they look fake. We walk outside, grab dinner from the garden, and sleep like rocks under handmade quilts.

We live outside the system, at least partly. We don’t panic when the store shelves empty. We don’t need to door-dash crap food. We don’t care about trends—we’re too damn busy planting, building, harvesting, living.

So yeah, I’m angry. I’m angry because too many people think this life is just “cute” or “aesthetic.” It’s not. It’s dirty, it’s hard, and it will chew you up and spit you out if you’re not all-in.

But if you are? If you’ve got guts and you’re willing to earn every bite of food and every moment of peace?

Welcome to the real homestead life.

Here in Rhode Island—we may be small, but we’re fierce as hell.

Life on the Vermont Homestead: Not for the Faint of Heart

Let me tell you something right now: homesteading in Vermont ain’t your cozy Pinterest fantasy. It’s not sipping raw milk in a flower crown while your goat poses for Instagram. It’s real. It’s raw. And it will chew you up and spit you out if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. I’m talking black flies in your eyeballs, pipes that freeze solid by October, and crops that rot if you blink wrong during August humidity. You either toughen up or get back to the city where people think basil grows in the spice aisle.

People romanticize this lifestyle without knowing a damn thing about what it takes to survive out here, especially in the Green Mountains where the only thing greener than the landscape is a flatlander trying to milk a goat for the first time. But for those of us who know what we’re doing—those of us who bust our knuckles fixing busted solar inverters during January sleet—we thrive. And we earn every damn bite we eat.

15 Homestead Skills You Better Learn, Or Go Home

  1. Firewood Chopping and Stacking
    If you don’t know how to fell a tree, buck it up, and stack it so it seasons right, you’ll freeze your ass off and deserve it. Vermont winters don’t play nice.
  2. Animal Husbandry
    Chickens, goats, pigs, sheep. You better know how to feed them, birth them, vaccinate them, and yes, butcher them. We don’t raise pets—we raise protein.
  3. Composting
    Your waste better be working for you. Composting is the law of the land—nutrients in, nutrients out. And don’t come at me with that plastic bin nonsense.
  4. Preserving Food
    Canning, fermenting, drying, root cellaring—if you don’t know how to make summer harvests last through February, you’ll be buying limp grocery store lettuce like a chump.
  5. Basic Carpentry
    You’ll build chicken coops, cold frames, fences, and when the roof leaks? Guess who’s the roofer? You.
  6. Water Management
    Gravity-fed systems, rain catchment, greywater rerouting—you need to make every drop count, especially when your well pump quits mid-winter.
  7. Seed Saving
    Stop buying seeds like it’s a subscription service. Grow heirlooms, save the seeds, and you’ll never be at the mercy of shortages again.
  8. Cooking from Scratch
    There’s no takeout where we live. If you can’t turn a raw chicken and a handful of potatoes into a week of meals, get out of my face.
  9. Soap Making
    Because I’m not paying $9 for some factory-scented nonsense when I’ve got lard, lye, and lavender in my own damn backyard.
  10. Knitting and Mending Clothes
    If you think darning socks is quaint, wait until you rip your last pair during a blizzard and the road’s closed for three days.
  11. First Aid and Herbal Medicine
    There’s no urgent care around the corner. Chamomile for sleep, comfrey for bruises, garlic for infections. Know your plants or pay the price.
  12. Chainsaw Maintenance
    The saw is your best friend and your worst enemy. Sharpen that chain, mix your fuel right, and respect it—or it’ll bite you.
  13. Solar Power Setup and Maintenance
    You want off-grid? Then learn the difference between a charge controller and an inverter, or you’ll be reading by candlelight for the rest of your life.
  14. Trapping and Hunting
    Rabbits, deer, maybe even bear if things get tight. It’s not about sport—it’s about putting meat in the freezer.
  15. Plumbing and Septic Know-How
    One clogged pipe and you’re knee-deep in your own stupidity. Know how to snake a drain, insulate a pipe, and never trust PVC glue in the cold.

DIY Homestead Hacks That’ll Save Your Sanity (and a Few Bucks)

1. The “5-Gallon Gravity Shower” Hack
You want hot water but don’t have a fancy solar system? Paint a 5-gallon bucket black, mount it on a platform, and let the sun do the work. Add a spigot, hang a shower curtain in the woods, and boom—your very own hillbilly spa.

2. Eggshell Calcium Powder
Don’t throw those eggshells away! Dry them, crush them, and grind them into a fine powder. Sprinkle into garden beds for calcium-rich soil or feed to chickens for stronger shells. It’s like gold dust from the coop.

3. DIY Solar Dehydrator
All you need is an old window, some scrap wood, a black-painted back panel, and mesh trays. Angle it toward the sun, and you’ve got a food dehydrator that costs zero to run and works even during late September.


Vermont-Specific Rants from the Trenches

Now let’s talk about Vermont specifically, because folks seem to think living here is like moving into a Norman Rockwell painting. You think Vermont means cozy cabins and hot cider? Sure, if you like shoveling snow 3 times a day, running a generator when the inverter gives up, and chasing bears out of the compost pile at 2 a.m. with a shotgun in your bathrobe.

Vermont’s short growing season is not a joke. If you don’t get your seedlings in by Memorial Day and have your beds covered by frost in late September, you just flushed your growing efforts down the composting toilet. Speaking of which—if you’re not managing your humanure system responsibly, stay the hell off my land. We don’t poison our soil with ignorance.

And let’s talk taxes. They’re high. Ridiculously high. You think you’re gonna sell a few jars of jam and skate by? Good luck. Every chicken you raise, every log you cut, every damn goat you sell comes with paperwork, fees, inspections, and a bureaucracy that’s never set foot on a working farm.

But we do it anyway. Not because it’s easy, but because we’re stubborn and free and refuse to live under the fluorescent lights of a cubicle farm. We raise our own food, fix our own roofs, grow our own medicine, and take pride in knowing that when the power goes out or the store shelves go bare, we’ve already got what we need.

That’s Vermont homesteading. It’s mud season and sugaring and frost heaves that’ll wreck your axle. It’s biting wind and biting insects and stubborn neighbors who’ve been on their land longer than the state flag’s been flying. It’s resilience, not romance.


Final Word from a Grumpy Homesteader

So if you’re dreaming about Vermont homesteading, do me a favor: wake up. You’ll bleed, curse, and cry—but if you make it through a winter and still want more? Well then, maybe you’ve got what it takes.

Just don’t ask to borrow my chainsaw.

Virginia Homestead Lifestyle

Virginia Homestead Lifestyle: The Rant You Need from an Angry Homesteader

Let me tell you something right off the bat — this modern world’s gone soft. Folks can’t go two hours without a drive-thru meal, their third iced coffee, and their precious little phone telling them how to breathe. Meanwhile, out here in the rolling hills of Virginia, we’re doing things the way our great-grandparents did — with grit, with dirt under our fingernails, and without needing to Google “how to boil water.”

You want the Virginia homestead lifestyle? Good. But don’t expect it to be all cute chickens and fresh eggs. This ain’t a Pinterest board. This is real life. Real work. And if you’re not willing to break a sweat, bleed a little, and maybe cry into your calloused hands now and then, you might as well turn back now and go back to your soy lattes and your HOA complaints.

Now that we’ve weeded out the weak, let me give you a crash course in what it really means to homestead in Virginia. We’ve got four solid seasons here — from blazing humidity in July to frozen ground in January. If you don’t respect the land and the weather, the land will eat you alive. Period.

Let’s start with the 15 skills you better learn fast if you want to make it out here:


1. Gardening (with actual results)

I’m not talking about a pot of basil on your windowsill. You better learn how to grow food — tomatoes, potatoes, beans, squash, corn. Figure out succession planting, crop rotation, and pest control that doesn’t destroy your soil. This is survival gardening, not Instagram.

2. Canning and Preserving

If you don’t know what a pressure canner is, you’re behind. Water bath canning for high-acid stuff, pressure canning for low-acid. Learn it, practice it, and keep your shelves stocked. Freezers fail — jars don’t.

3. Basic Carpentry

You’re going to need to build things. Coops, sheds, fences, maybe even a barn if you’re ambitious. A hammer, a saw, a level — get familiar with them. Ain’t nobody got time to wait on contractors who charge $200 just to show up.

4. Animal Husbandry

Chickens, goats, rabbits, maybe a couple pigs. You need to know how to feed them, breed them, and when the time comes — butcher them. Harsh? Maybe. But it’s honest.

5. Composting

Waste nothing. That pile of kitchen scraps and animal bedding can turn into black gold. Know what to compost, how to keep it hot, and how to use it.

6. Seed Saving

You really want to be self-sufficient? Stop buying seeds every spring. Learn how to save them. Tomatoes, beans, squash — they’re easy starters.

7. Hunting and Trapping

Deer season isn’t just for fun. It fills your freezer. Know the laws, respect the game, and sharpen your shot. Trapping’s trickier, but muskrats and raccoons don’t belong in your chicken coop.

8. Firewood Management

Chainsaw skills, axe work, splitting, stacking, seasoning — your heat depends on it if you’re off-grid or using a wood stove. Start early, or you’ll be burning green wood and cursing yourself in January.

9. Food Storage (beyond the pantry)

Root cellars, smokehouses, drying racks — these old-school methods still work. Don’t act surprised when the power goes out and your freezer full of meat is suddenly a liability.

10. Beekeeping

Not just for honey. Bees help everything grow. They’re finicky, though. Treat them right and they’ll give you liquid gold and pollinate your crops. Treat them wrong and they’ll abandon you.

11. Basic Veterinary Skills

Can’t call the vet every time a chicken sneezes or a goat limps. Learn how to treat wounds, give shots, and recognize illness. Your animals are your livelihood.

12. Soap Making

Store shelves empty? You’ll still be clean. Lye, fat, and patience. That’s all it takes. Plus, it beats rubbing synthetic nonsense on your skin.

13. Sewing and Mending

Clothes tear. Blankets wear out. Learn how to stitch a seam and patch a hole. Keep your gear going instead of tossing it.

14. Water Management

Wells, rainwater catchment, filtering, hauling — know it all. When the faucet stops running, will you know where to turn?

15. Emergency Medical Know-How

A well-stocked first aid kit won’t save you if you don’t know how to use it. Splints, wound care, recognizing infections — these are essential.


You still with me? Good. Then let me sweeten the pot with 3 DIY homestead hacks that’ll save your hide one day:


Hack #1: 5-Gallon Bucket Nesting Boxes

You don’t need to spend a fortune on fancy nesting boxes. Take a few 5-gallon buckets, cut off the top third at a 45° angle, bolt them to the wall at a slight upward tilt, and throw in some pine shavings. Chickens love ‘em, and they’re easy to clean. Durable, too — and free if you salvage from restaurants or bakeries.


Hack #2: Solar-Powered Electric Fence from Recycled Parts

Predators don’t care how much your livestock cost. Keep them out with a DIY solar electric fence. Repurpose an old solar yard light, a small car battery, and some wire from that junk pile you keep meaning to clean up. Hook up a low-voltage fence charger, and bam — perimeter security without raising your electric bill.


Hack #3: DIY Root Cellar in a Trash Can

Don’t have the time or money for a full root cellar? Bury a metal trash can up to the rim in a shady spot. Line the bottom with gravel for drainage, then stack your root veggies in layers of sand or sawdust. Pop the lid on and cover with straw bales in winter. It’ll stay cool and dark — perfect for carrots, potatoes, and turnips.


Living the Virginia homestead lifestyle isn’t about prepping for doomsday. It’s about living honestly — away from the noise, the lies, and the weakness of a society that’s forgotten how to feed itself. It’s about waking up with the sunrise, working your body to the bone, and falling asleep with pride instead of anxiety.

People say, “I could never do that. It’s too hard.” Damn right, it’s hard. That’s the point. If you’re looking for ease, go back to your concrete jungle. But if you’re looking for a life with meaning, sweat, and real satisfaction — get your boots on. We’ve got work to do.


So go on — till that soil, raise that barn, gather those eggs, and for the love of all things sacred — stop whining. This is Virginia. We don’t just survive out here. We thrive.

This Cooking Mistake could Prove Deadly for the Homestead

This is how many house fires happen in the US every year,

And if you live the homestead lifestyle, you really

should pay attention to what I have to tell you here!

It’s more than you think.

When it’s something that shouldn’t happen even once.

House fires have ruined people’s properties.

Everything they worked for.

And in the worst cases, it has taken their loved ones.

It’s time we turn down the heat on this risk and stir up some safety measures.

Let’s address the elephant in the room, unattended cooking.

It’s the primary cause of these fires.

Picture this, you’re sautéing vegetables, the cellphone rings, and you step away, thinking, “It’s just for a moment.”

But brother, a moment is exactly what it takes for a fire to ignite.

The golden rule is simple. Stay in the kitchen while you’re frying, boiling, grilling, or broiling food.

If you must go out, even for a short period, power down the stove.

So let’s talk about what’s cooking on your stovetop. Crowded cooktops are a recipe for disaster.

Keep anything that can catch fire – oven mitts, wooden utensils, food packaging, towels, or curtains – away from your stovetop.

A clean cooking area is a critical precaution against fires.

For those who love a good simmer, setting a timer is your ally.

It’s an easy step that serves as a reminder that you’re cooking, especially useful when you’re simmering, baking, or roasting food.

In the unfortunate event that a small grease fire starts, remain calm.

If it’s safe to do so, smother the flames by sliding a lid over the pan and powering down the stove.

Keep the pan covered until it is completely cooled.

For an oven fire, keep the door closed and close the heat.

Remember, water is a foe in this scenario as it can cause the oil to splatter and spread the fire.

As I always say, being prepared can make a world of difference.

Consider keeping a fire extinguisher in your kitchen and ensure every family member knows how to use it.

But more importantly, if a fire grows out of control, don’t hesitate to evacuate and contact 911. Your safety is paramount.

God bless, and always stay safe and very aware!

When SHTF survival preppers will be the first ones to go

So that’s me, the big dude sitting across from Tucker Carlson himself! Love that guy!

But enough about me, let’s get to the reason why you’re reading this article in the first place.

I’m sure you’ve seen ‘em.

You might have even referred to yourself as a “prepper” at one point.

This group of people tries to prepare for emergencies.

They stock up on essentials, grow their own food, and meticulously plan for a myriad of scenarios.

But amidst this well-intentioned preparation, they fall into a trap.

A critical mistake that could prove fatal for them and their loved ones in a real emergency.

And it boils down to this. They boast too damn much!

Look, understand the urge to talk about your achievements with like-minded folks.

But when it comes to survival, discretion isn’t just a virtue. it’s a necessity.

Every detailed post about a stocked pantry, Every proud showcase of a stocked pantry, a water supply, a communication method, is potentially a beacon.

In the digital age, knowledge is more than just power, it’s a currency. And in the wrong hands, the knowledge of your preparations could become an invitation.

To those unprepared, desperate, or opportunistic enough to take advantage of your work when society’s thin veneer cracks.

Just see what can happen when people boast too much.

This is why I want to talk to you about the Gray Man Philosophy.

The concept of the “gray man” is not talked about enough in my opinion.

It’s essentially about blending in, not standing out.

This applies not just in the physical realm but in the digital one as well. Talk about strategies, not specifics. Discuss ideas, not inventories.

In other words, find the balance.

Believe in God and his son Jesus…

But also believe in yourself, and especially, you must believe in your basic survival skills.

For example, you don’t see me sharing photos of my backyard so everyone knows where to find me!

But can talk about how I planned my backyard.

There’s a fine line between communal learning and oversharing.

The true strength of our preparations lies in the fact that a few trusted folks know about them.

But be careful about who you trust.

As we continue down this path of preparedness, let’s pivot towards a more guarded approach.

It’s possible to be both prepared and discreet, to be ready for any eventuality without broadcasting our readiness to the world.

This doesn’t mean retreating from our community.

It simply means navigating it with a calculated caution.

Sometimes the most potent weapon is the wisdom to remain unseen.

Let’s stay safe, smart, and cautious.

God bless, and keep yourself, as well as all those that you love, as safe as possible!