Our Modern (peri-urban) Homestead

I'll admit it, when I thought, ' yes, we're going to build our own home this summer,' I had no idea what I was getting into. I suppose that I believed that building my own home out of recycled material would be easy, that it would take a few weeks, perhaps a month, that it would be stressful, but not too taxing. I assumed that my partner had done it before and would be able to guide me seamlessly through the project. And, I admit it here in plain text;

I was wrong.

I think that growing up with parents who are architects, contractors, and interior designers set me up for inevitable disappointment in any type of housing project, much less building my own structures. Pretty obvious I'd imagine to the casual observer, that I have high expectations for form, function, and feasibility in my housing. However, I had no idea how hard this would be, or how long it would take to build, plumb, and electrify two yurts and a bathhouse. Imagine if I was actually trying to build a real house! Wow.

So here we are, several months into working on our structures. We have running water and electricity, a fully functioning kitchen. Our grey water systems need attention, but we can heat water and chill food- both which feel luxurious. We are half done with a bathhouse, planning on building the roof and putting in the floor this afternoon, our tub with instant hot water and our composting toilet are not far off. I am dreaming of bubble baths... but I digress.

In moments of true stress, my partner and I look at each other and laugh- how did the original homesteaders, my great great greats who came across the plains to 'settle' the Central Valley do it? No power tools, no hardware store, no craigslist. Not to mention having animals to care for, and children to feed. I realize that what we are doing today is mere child's play, so padded by the comfortability of our surroundings, the ability to take a lunch break and grab a ready made organic burrito down the street- that my duress is laughable.

So we ride the paradox. Feeling my very real stress as we finish our bathroom, and electrify our office. All the while acknowledging that our daily questions (which hose connection for the sink) are not matters of life or death. They are instead the very soft learning curve of a modern (peri-urban) homestead.