The other night, I met someone who lives on 130 acres of land.
I want some land. We live in a really nice place with about 3/4 of an acre, but that’s not land. I want Land.
(Side note: having a house on said land would be a plus. But I do have a couple of tents we could set up in a pinch.)
Land is something I’ve always wanted, to be honest. My “dream” residence, from the time I was very young, was a cabin, on a mountain, in the woods, with a lake in the backyard. Not too picky. I’m willing to forgo the mountain now, and even the lake, for a quantity of acreage sufficient to build a barn and raise and grow some of our own food.
I don’t want horses or cows on my acreage. Too much work. Even sheep and goats are kind of outside the scope of this fairytale. Chickens, however, sound ideal. We eat tons of eggs and at least one bird every week. And I currently drive almost 40 minutes one way to get pastured poultry products. A small flock would be worth the trouble for our family, it seems. People who know about these things suggest that you can raise free-range chickens fairly simply. I bet we could do it.
All I need now is some land.