While part of me will always be a city girl (basically, I just need to be within five miles of a Target), there is also a part of me that wants to be a homesteader — the one who wakes up every morning overlooking her sprawl of quiet farmland, knits her own blankets, carries chicken feed in her apron out to the coop and has a walk-in pantry stocked floor to ceiling with homemade jams.
Does that even exist anymore, anywhere? I hope it does. I like to think it does, and that maybe, one day, our lives will take a turn in that direction. Maybe not completely so (I just don’t really know if I’m cut out to have chickens), but in some ways. For now, I know I can make the jam.14