You know, that Jones family just butchered their own cow(raised on pasture and organic grain), canned their 375th jar of vegetables they grew themselves, built a new coop from reclaimed wood they found from an old barn, made their own butter from their goats(with a cream separator), and claimed they haven’t been to the grocery store in a year!
Oh to be like the Joneses.
They’ve got it going on and I’m over here feeling guilty for not butchering our cow and pigs ourselves. Butchering chickens isn’t enough you know. When we ever get to butchering our own pigs, then we will have reached the homesteaders elite.
Sometimes I feel like a fake. Like I should be doing more but it seems as of late it’s a good day if the animals don’t escape. The Joneses never have that problem. It’s like their animals know they are in with the elites. They know they have an image to uphold.
I should’ve spent more time in the garden this year. I should’ve canned more produce. My canning shelves should be loaded from floor to ceiling. Facebook worthy. I bet that would go viral. That’s what the Joneses did.
I should really spend at least double the feed costs to get organic grain. So what if the cost we put into our animals far outweighs what we get out of them. Sometimes I envision there are the Elites watching over me when I scoop out grain that’s not gmo free, shaking their heads or gasping in shock.
I really should save more goat’s milk and make cheese again. Never buying milk at the store just isn’t enough. Making goat’s milk butter on a regular basis would up my status for sure.
And, we really need a woodstove. I mean, a woodstove means we’re legit right?
I have another confession to make while I’m at it. I started buying Suave shampoo again. Can you believe that? I know, total fake. I don’t know what makes me feel worse – not making my own shampoo or buying an unnatural brand. I just can’t win. Oh the guilt.
I mean, my chickens don’t even have names!
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to keep up with the homesteading Joneses.
But then again, maybe I wasn’t meant to.