This has been a journey, let me tell you.

It started with a beautiful dream, an unknowing innocence, that for real ignorance that you can only claim before you get to know the situation. In my mind bees were enchanting and magical, creative and daring. Their secret, intricate world fascinated me and I felt compelled to create a home for them on our land. Surely they would be grateful and return the favor with an abundance of honey and the blessing of their cross-pollinating talents…surely.

We spent too much money on the endeavor, really. In the furthest corner of the yard we built what we now call the bee garden. Amish-made, wrought iron, waist-high fence with a matching arbor where we planted clematis. Flowering plants lining the exterior of the fence, with mulch and a stone landscape border. Andy built a platform that keeps the hive off of the ground and applied a special spray on the legs that prevents ants from climbing up. I ordered and assembled, in full, a Langstroth hive (courtesy of Hoover Hives) all by my onesie. I took a beekeeping class, and bought all the accessories and ordered one Nuc and we were off. Never mind that I’m truly terrified of bees.

For those of you who don’t know, a Nuc is like a mini hive and is a pretty standard way to order bees. It comes with a full colony which is roughly 5k bees, their own acclimated queen, eggs, larvae, drawn out honeycomb, pollen and honey itself. Everything they need to get to business and get that honey made! And all you have to do is drop the frames into your hive and they’re on their way. Sounds easy, yes?

Nerp.

Boy, did I sign up for it. These gals are picky, and fragile, and particular. I couldn’t find eggs, I never saw the Queen and the only evidence I had that they were maybe doing alright was that they were still alive and large in number. I had no idea what I was doing, I couldn’t find anyone to help me, and didn’t have the slightest clue where to begin. My first Nuc was also super angry and aggressive. They’d fly at my face, despite the smoker, and one even got it’s little stinger all the way through some thick (albeit not beekeeping) gloves and our relationship hasn’t been the same since. I was incredulous! How could they be so ungrateful?

That first season ended with me making a terrible decision to spray weed killer in our yard, without even considering that the bees wouldn’t like it one bit. Bad idea, yes, but (even after everything I’d done for them!) they left because of it. One wrong move and it was over. I was heartbroken, I took it personally and I wasn’t keen on repeating the efforts ever again.

However, the following spring rolled around and for some reason or another, I went ahead and bought a full 10-frame, pre-started hive. I was reenergized, spirit renewed, hopes afresh, willingness restored!

I’ll keep this section of the story short and sweet, who needs the suspense? At some point, I lost the Queen and spent the subsequent 6 weeks attempting to get the colony Queen-right. I bought a new Queen, which they didn’t accept—this hive was more aggressive than the last—and then purchased another Queen which they also wouldn’t accept. As a result, they slowly died off and disappeared altogether while we were on vacation last fall. Thus ended my second season of beekeeping.

Again, incredulous. Again, personally offended. Again, not keen to repeat the effort.

So this idiot over here, on round three bought not one, but TWO bee packages this spring. Two! Just balls to the wall, I literally doubled down after my first two attempts having gone so well.

One might ask…why? Let me explain.

Some people (Andy) might describe me as resilient—which sometimes, in my case, translates to not knowing when to quit. In this particular situation, I guess it means I’m still trying to keep bees. I still believe I’m supposed to. As I continue to deepen my relationship with the earth I am convinced she needs our assistance, or at least awareness, whatever it looks like. And, though it’s frustrating and I don’t rightly know why, I think it looks like doing things like this. Just might be signing up for anger management as a result.

The good news is, due to the happiest of accidents, I have an amazing mentor this time around. He checks in regularly and asks all kinds of questions and helps me consider things I would never have otherwise. I’ve been forced to approach this with a completely fresh perspective that says, in sum, “I don’t know shit. Please, for goodness sake, show me.” That seems to be working so far.

This season, I’ve gotten to identify eggs for the first time ever, have seen Queens in both the hives four out of the six times I’ve opened them. The honey flow has been strong this year, and it would seem, so are both of my hives.

You’ve got a cautiously optimistic beekeeper here…I’ll just have to keep you posted. In the meantime, maybe don’t quit that thing that’s knocked you down hard a few times. It just might work out, and either way, you’ll learn something from it.

Even if it’s just to know when to say, “I don’t know shit.”

I L-O-V-E these creatures. A friend once said they’re like backyard goldfish, and I couldn’t agree more. They crack me up, their poo is great for our garden, they eat bugs, and give us (and some other lucky folks we know) sustenance on the regular—whats not to love? We live on almost half an acre in the suburbs, and our city allows 6 chickens per property. For us, it seemed a logical step toward sustainable living to figure out how to have them around. It also makes me feel a smidge more secure knowing that if things get shut down (you know, due to a global pandemic, for example) that between a garden, bees, chickens and the power of food preservation, we very technically have most of what we need to get along just fine.

My husband, Andy, designed and built a beautiful chicken coop and run. He also created a super low-maintenance feeding and watering system so that most of the time we—nope, the kids—simply have to go out and collect eggs and check food/water levels. As far as free-range, they used to roam the yard daily, but thanks to the neighborhood hawks their outings have been reduced and need supervision.

We had chickens when I was younger, and while I don’t remember them much, I was always aware of how terrified my sister was (is) of them. It seems as though that fear has passed onto our oldest daughter, who will scream-cry if they get too close. Which is, to her dismay, one of the most hilarious things ever. On the opposite end is our oldest son, third child, brave as hell who will crawl into the run to retrieve a wayward egg, or a dropped kitchen scrap bowl no problem.

Alright, so talking about what we already have is all well and good, but let’s delve into how we actually got here. I can tell you right now that Andy was not even the tiniest bit interested in chickens once upon a time. Not only was he not into the idea, he was adamantly opposed. Our conversations and random comments concerning the subject were only a quick clash and then we’d move on.

“Let’s get chickens!”
“No.”
“Can we pleeeeeeeeeease get chickens.”
“No.”
“Your parents got chickens!”
“No.”

Little did I know, Andy’s hesitancy was merely a concern of how much maintenance these creatures required. *Would we ever be able to go anywhere because they need so much; they smell; are tasks going to fall on him because everyone will get bored with them; can we even have these creatures in the suburbs; etc…* The day Andy finally started to see over these barriers and began considering what it would look like to actually do this was a process—nothing overnight here! I’ll admit, we switched our normal dreamer/settler roles for this endeavor. He’s usually the one with all the ideas and I’m the one who anchors those ideas. In this instance, Andy heard my crazy idea (CHICKENS IN SUBURBIA!) and began to research and consider ways we could make it an actual possibility. This has been years in the making, so no need to rush, friends.

Problem: Coop and run.
Our solution: Imagine what would work for us—i.e. Andy designed and built what he wanted/needed it to be. This could be different for everyone.
How to apply a solution to your situation: Make plans for a custom coop/run and build it; download plans for a coop/run to build; if budget is no object, visit your nearest Amish store and pick one up; if budget is an issue, there are plenty of affordable options for small runs at places like Ace Hardware, Tractor Supply, or even online. We’d encourage you to get creative either way!

Problem: Would we ever be able to go anywhere because they need so much/all tasks will eventually fall on one person (the one who doesn’t want them in the first place).
Our solution: Automatic gravity food and water system using PVC pipe and 10 gallon, lidded plastic garbage bins. (Google it)! Ask awesome neighbors and/or family to check in on the birds at least every other day to collect eggs.
How to apply a solution to your situation: Research how to create an automatic feeding and watering system that only needs a bi-weekly (maybe even only monthly) refill depending on your birds and build it, or ask a handy friend for help; if you have awesome neighbors or family members, ask them to check on the birds and feed/water them daily and to collect eggs (and keep them as a thank-you!).

Problem: They smell.
Our solution: Place coop/run a reasonable distance from your home and primary backyard hangout spot.
How to apply a solution to your situation: If you don’t have a yard where the coop/run can be a reasonable distance from your home, consider two chickens and a smaller coop that can be quickly cleaned when they get smelly. Furthest corner works, no matter what size your yard may be.

Problem: Can we even have chickens in our town?
Our solution: We observed that a neighbor on our street has chickens and noticed a few other coops around the town. We went ahead and checked city ordinance on our city’s website to make sure and found we could have up to 6 chickens.
How to apply a solution to your situation: Call the city or look it up online! Talk to your neighbors about what you’re doing.

This has been a worthwhile endeavor, to say the least. It’s fun, they’re funny little dumb-dumbs that are easy to provide for and the reward is well worth it. It makes us feel as though we’re contributing to the earth, and some of the creatures in it. For us, in taking care of animals that provide something to us, it’s a physical representation of how we as living things can help provide for each other. They may not know the difference, but we do and we feel privileged to participate in it.

We’re constantly learning and asking questions. It’s all far from perfect (i.e. the issue of when the chickens have scratched/dug a hole in the corner of the run AND what the hell to do when the birds are plucking out their own feathers, among other things)…so stay tuned!

Literally. Trash.

The very beginning of this journey started because I realized that our family of six was going through enough garbage to fill a 13 gallon trash bag daily, and sometimes even more than that. Initially it was about money! I didn’t want to budget for loads of trash bags. I really do know you’re probably thinking, in the grand scheme of things trash bags might not cost all that much money-wise, and you’d be right. At the time we also would have had to pay separately for recycling, so we simply didn’t do it (money-led-thinking again), hence the bags and bags containing both recyclable and compostable waste, along with landfill treasures. I was being nit-picky, about two things that specifically contradicted one another. However, what started out as yet another money-selfish realization slowly turned into a holy-shit-this-is-also-SO-irresponsibly-wasteful realization.

Enter: shame and total panic.

Oh my goodness, I don’t want to pay for recycling and don’t feel like being inconvenienced by composting.

Oh my goodness, I’m throwing away, in a plastic bag, something that would otherwise breakdown naturally in a completely appropriate way OR could be reused for something.

But WHY should I have to pay for recycling? Isn’t it helpful to recycle? Hellooo, you’re welcome. Right?

How could I even think about consuming so much and not disposing of it properly?

I’ll just wait until I don’t have to pay for recycling.

Unfortunately, we did wait to start recycling until it was included in our waste/sanitation. I don’t think my mind could have handled it any other way, it was just too much to reconcile for some reason. It was another thing to have to do along with being a mom of four and a homemaker, and it is what it is. If I dwell on how wasteful we used to be (and often still are), the conversation in my head between me, shame and panic will spiral down until I’d have to sleep it off. No thanks. Time to move on. To the future!

I’d love to be able to say that I’ve cultivated a master course in learning how to compost and be low-waste and can provide you with everything that you need. However, I have not done that. Instead, I’ve researched and found sources that feel comfortable and accessible to me and my lifestyle. So, I’ll share those resources with you.

First! Compost.
This site provides a thorough (albeit a little dramatic for lack of a better word, but not untrue) why you should compost, but also how and what to compost. And check out this book, or follow @simply.living.well for practical ways to lower your food waste.

We have this outdoor compost bin. If I had the opportunity to start composting all over again, I would have done one with a double bin, or built one like this. All this to say, its a personal choice, and you need to pick something that is right for your family/roommates/etc, your yard and your life.

Bonus: I love this kitchen scrap collection bin from my absolute favorite zero waste refill shop, The Good Fill. Looks good on the counter, easy to clean!

Second! Recycle.
DO IT. Just kidding. But really, if its provided to you or you have to pay a small fee, just. do. it. Spoiler alert: it will always be a little inconvenient, so might as well get used to it and make it work for you.
Paper, cardboard, glass and cans are the easiest things to recycle that can be recycled more than a few times (glass is almost infinite!). Plastic is the culprit, and previously recycled plastics are even worse as they may not be able to be broken down and repurposed yet another time.
I try my best, but obviously still have to purchase things contained in plastic, and still recycle the containers, or repurpose them if I can. Plastic bags (grocery bags, cereal bags, bread bags, ziplocks, etc.) I take back as often as I can to my local grocery store, which has a recycling container for them. So check your local stores. Recycling plastic bags just might be as easy as bringing them back on your next shopping trip.

Our family of six has gone from a 13 gallon trash bag a day to a 9 gallon trash bag a week (you can find my very favorite trash can/recycling can combo here) and not without some effort, I won’t lie. We’ve gone from not even having a recycling bin to take out on trash day every week to filling a medium one weekly and taking the large trash bin out once every two to three weeks. It’s been a long, slow process that has included too many times to count where I’ve had to dig cans out of the trash—or where I’ve shouted from across the house, “THAT BANANA PEEL CAN BE COMPOSTED!!” Which everyone finds endearing and hilarious, of course.

We’re learning. We don’t always hit the mark, but we’re also simply trying. Which is exactly what I’d encourage you to do. Start small, take your time, do what you can, know and be content with the effort because something at the very least isn’t nothing and that, my friends, is perfectly fine.

“I keep getting older
and my dreams are getting sober too.
I miss their wild ways.
And I’m still getting scared,
by the time I’m feeling ready
it might be too late,
as I keep getting older.”

Johnnyswim

I can’t imagine I’m the only person in the world who is so frequently moved by music. ‘Moved’ isn’t even the right word. Whatever word means “Oh my goodness, I’m so overwhelmed with these feelings I don’t know what to do, but I have to do something.” That word. How a song writer can put these normal words we use all the time in just such a way that they stay with me for days, weeks even after hearing them. Then to match them with the notes that can bring me to tears in a matter of a few moments, even on their own—that’s a whole other subject. Obviously, things are just catchy sometimes (‘We don’t talk about Bruno…’), but I’m not talking about those songs.

I’ve never been a song-writer myself. Just could never get the hang of it, and since there are so many out there who more than understand the assignment, I gave up trying. Instead, I receive songs as if they’re gifts just for me. I spend long hours thinking about the words other people write and how they make me feel, and what they do for my heart. So I’d like to share the gift that this song “I Keep Getting Older” by Johnnyswim gave to me. You’ll have to listen for yourself to make up your own mind.

It’s wildly important to me that I don’t take for granted these years that keep getting added onto my life. Youth is so praised, and adored, so coveted-after and longed-for. I often find myself thinking, if only that person knew the power they had…if only I had been a little better 20 years ago, more focused on the bigger picture. I’ve begun to realize there’s a lot of “if only” in my brain’s conversation with itself, a comparison habit that has long plagued me.

Youth is a gift, there is no doubt, but how much more so is the privilege of getting older? Getting to look back on the life you’ve already lived and learned from is an even greater gift. Those brain-conversations are deterring from the “right now” that will itself be an “if only” only a short time from now. I’m so tired of thinking of the ways that things could have been, or where I would be if things had gone differently. The hurts and the pains that could have possibly been avoided, how I could have shown up better for myself and the people around me. How I could have better coped with my parents’ divorce instead of letting it lead me into the darkest time of my life. That list could go on and on. And on…and on. Forever. A million, infinity, in fact are the amount of ways I could have done better, that people could have done better for me, I’m sure of it. However, the longer I live (a whole 34 years—how OLD that used to feel!), the more I realize I wouldn’t change a single negative experience I have lived through.

There’s a lot to be said for comfort. I’ve spent a good amount of my life uncomfortable. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes against my will. The times that I have strived and struggled to get into a comfortable space, I have found myself to be the most bored. Comfort is boring. There is a place for it, and certainly a need for it at times in our lives, but when has comfort ever brought with it the opportunity for growth?

I want to be ever-changing. To feel the fear of not knowing what’s around the corner, or what I’m supposed to do with it when I get there. The itch of growth, the stretch of seeing something you’ve seen a hundred times before, but somehow it looks different. I want to change my mind, and my heart about things that require a different perspective than the one I’ve known all my life. We need that change, to be able to accept the ever-evolving world around us, and our fellow humans that inhabit it with us.

Every single one of those turbulent times either brought upon me by myself, or by someone else, molded me into the human I am today.

And I am proud of her.

She is resilient. She is often wrong, and tries to admit it. She is fierce, and can be mean. She knows she’s learning. She makes mistakes, but takes risks. She is strong. She is gentle. She can be weak, and knows it’s OK. She forgets all of this sometimes. She is mindful and passionate. She is self-aware. She tries kindness as often as she can remember, and fails just about as often. She will cry. She is honest. She will speak. She constantly looks for ways to heal. She constantly remembers old pain. She will be quiet. She doesn’t want to ‘just get to the end.’ She is present. *She will go back and edit this list, more than once.*

If I can ever call behind me to the girl I once was, if she exists in another universe, I hope she hears the echo over and over again…

Don’t just try to get to the end. Be scared. Be uncomfortable, and find what’s only for you while you’re there. Find the gift, and then keep looking for the next one.

To paraphrase a quote I love (with too many sources to find exactly who said it first) age is something we cannot regret, because it is something denied to so many of us.

Accept the inevitability of the change promised to us all, and *spoiler alert* we just aren’t going to get it right most of the time.

Like twice. Maybe twice we’ll get it just right. #noragrets

Hello, friends. For those of you who don’t know, this is the second time I’ve tried to start this “blog.” One year ago was the first time…must be something about spring time that makes one feel…blog-gy.

If you’ve read the “about me” on the home page, you already know the highlights of this situation. I’m sure I’ll spend plenty of time delving into the many aspects of the things mentioned there (and things beyond), but for now, let’s just talk about the purpose of this blog.

Very simply put, I want to share the journey my family and I have been on these last couple years. Breaking into the overwhelming world of sustainability and eco-consciousness has felt much more difficult than necessary. Since incorporating little bit by little bit, baby step by baby step (I finally even have my husband on board for the basics!), everything has unfolded in a much simpler way than I ever thought possible. It’s actually super difficult to not find myself frustrated by how lofty and unattainable it has all been until now. The picture-perfectness of it all. It doesn’t help that I’m easily irritated/angered in general…but that’s all part of the journey, ain’t it? I’ll even confess that the picture at the bottom of this little rant about myself was taken in someone else’s, prettier kitchen. 🙃

Don’t be fooled even further, as I will 100% use this space as my own creative outlet to write whatever the hell I want when I’m feeling it—including the very next post, I think. So when I say “journey” I literally mean it, all of it, and every step of the way.

So, welcome in! Come along! Learn with us, and from us—through mistakes and successes, highs and lows, gains and losses. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we’re all in this together and it’s just a matter of recognizing the humanity in us all.

And at the very least, we can help you figure out what not to do.

Live long and prosper it up,
Bek