bears, yahoos, and security needs

Late September 2018 “I hate to be the bearer of bad news.” Sam’s words were difficult to pick out over the intermittent cell connection, but this one sentence came through loud and clear. My heart sank. I was an hour into the two-and-a-half-hour drive from my parents’ house in South Carolina, where I’ve been staying…

inroads: construction (and destruction)

Late August, 2018 “You know I’m going to cry the first time I see all these trees down,” I told Sam, the man I’d hired to excavate my land. He chewed his lower lip a little, glancing sideways at me from under the brim of his baseball cap. “I’ll get over it,” I continued, “but…

is permaculture really for me?

“What’s your plan for the land?” I really liked Zev, the permaculture designer I’d hired for a consultation, but he kept asking hard questions. As I looked around us, the immensity of the land — the towering trees, the enfolding ridges, the tangled clearing running along the west edge of the tractor road — intimidated…