Urbanite come Amateur Islander

Hi! Welcome to Homestead Lane. I'm so glad you stopped by. This is collection of short stories about my previously urban self meeting my new modern-homesteading, island-living self and my writing self watching it all happen, taking notes, laughing and then kicking it out in short story form.

I'm a writer. I used to have a blog over here. But lately it's become just a messy collection of my ramblings. It looks like a mismatched sock drawer.  So one day I decided to start a new, more focused, 2.0 blog, with a much more exciting topic: I live on 10 acres of land in the middle of an old-growth cedar forest in a one-room cabin with my man friend on an island. To you islanders that might be reading this (and thank you SO MUCH if you are!!), you'll just chuckle and probably say, "hmmm that's sweet. Wait until she has her first power outage that lasts a week and stops finding the ferry outages so cute." But you, person reading this that lives not on an island but amid crowds of people and traffic and the honks of cars, and thai food delivery, and neighbors that actually live "next door" and sirens and stoplights, and grocery stores and coffee shops, and closets of clothes and high-heeled shoes, you might find this fantastically simple island life I'm living as interesting as I do.

So, how did I get here? What's the story?

Well, I've lived lots of places. Born in Missouri. Schooled at the University of Kansas (rock chalk jayhawk). Became an adult in San Francisco, Chicago, Seattle, Denver. Most recently lived in Boulder, CO, and now on a teeny island off the coast of NW Washington State called Guemes Island. Pronounced gwee-mus or gway-mus, but some non-island friends have taken to just calling it Gomez Island. 

I'm the little brown island just outside of the tourist shadow of the San Juan Island. Ok, the San Juans are gorgeous. Really gorgeous and you do see more whales out there, but there are more tourists; plain and simple.  My little island doesn't have a village per se or a business center or anything to attract tourists. It's just a little island with people who where either born and raised here, born here and moved back here, or much like me, were looking for a group of accepting weirdos to just hunker down and get weird with.

I visited Guemes over a year ago. Fell in love with it hook, line and sinker (read more about our love story here.) Though I was living in Boulder at the time I fell in love – and this was a love affair much like the one I experienced with Kirk Cameron circa 1989 – I found a way to live on the island for much of this past summer thanks to the goodness of these excellent friends who loaned me their sweet island cabin. I became a part of an amazing island family and knew that this was my home foreva eva. I found a more permanent rental and was all set to move in and be an island resident when my gorgeousamazingsweetestmostkindlovingdidisaygorgeous man friend asked me to move in with him. He's an islander (ooooooooooh) and lives in a cozy cabin on 10 lush, densely forested acres down Homestead Lane in the middle of Guemes Island. When I describe it as "cozy" I mean about 400 sq. ft. of living space that includes one room with a loft space and a bathroom and a laundry room. It's this adorable place you see in the background and here:

 It was given to my man friend by his uncle after he passed. My man friend, being the incredible man that he is, brought it to life with electricity, running water, a bathroom, a door on the bathroom (very important in attracting the ladies), and many other features that are constantly updating what is now our cozy little cabin in the woods. I mean how could I pass up such an offer?! Really!?!?! Can I have an address that is on Homestead freaking Lane?!?! YES! YES!


And that's the story. That's how I got to Homestead Lane on Guemes Island. And this is my "greenhorn" year of island living... in a work-in-progress cabin...in the middle of a forest. And you shall soon learn how much I don't know about island living.  Where once I got excited about the new Something & Something restaurant opening and the seasonal issue of Vogue (ok, that one still gets me) now I get stoked on hunting chanterelle mushrooms and sowing seeds for our garden and building brush fires and getting dirty - the mud kind of dirty. And much like Laura Ingalls Wilder who braved homesteading with her family and wrote about, I too shall, but without the death and scarlett fever. And much like Carrie Bradshaw who lived to dissect the inner workings of relationships, social culture and fashion and write about it, I too shall, but more like "Ladies, I found the perfect pair of fashionable yet warm yet incredibly functional rainboots you've been looking for" or "how to strip out of your wet outdoor workwear like a sex machine." And much like Thoreau who liked to get his feet muddy, commune with nature and then wax poetic about it, so too shall I.  I promise you they'll be some really muddy feet! And you can read all about it.

It's gonna be a ride of a year, so suit up and keep reading. In a weatherproof rain suit, of course.