Living the Life You Choose

Several years ago, the husband said to me over dinner one night, “I found a new podcast I think you would like. It’s by some woman in Tennessee. She’s a homesteader and a libertarian.” I said I would give it a listen. I started with the now-infamous July 23, 2017 “squash episode” detailing the many ways to use an abundance of squash from the garden. I was hooked. Since then, Nicole Sauce’s Living Free in Tennessee podcast has stayed at the top of my list of podcast favorites. Other podcasts have come and gone, but Nicole has put out consistently great content for six years. Along the way, she has built an amazing community of doers all over the world. The tag line for her podcast is Living the life you choose, on your terms.

Nicole hosts a workshop weekend at her homestead in Tennessee every April. Last fall, I hatched a plan. A dear friend of mine from high school moved to eastern Tennessee with his girlfriend five years ago. They also have become fans of Nicole’s podcast, so I asked them if they would like to go to the Spring Workshop with me. They agreed. (It is a testament to the longevity of my friendship with Robert that he let me plan this trip for them.) Two weeks ago, I drove to Seattle and flew to Cleveland to see my mother. Robert’s dad lives around the corner from my mother, so Robert and Deana arranged to visit his family that same weekend. The three of us drove back to Tennessee together. I stayed at their house for two days, and last Wednesday, we drove to the middle of Tennessee for this:

This plan had a second component. When I knew we were coming to the workshop, I contacted Nicole and offered to teach some classes. These kinds of homesteading events are typically heavy on things men want to do, like firearms training, animal husbandry, infrastructure projects, etc. Nicole’s mom—known to podcast listeners as Mama Sauce—helps her plan this workshop as well as the twice-yearly Self-Reliance Festival. Mama Sauce is also a knitter. The two of them thought that having some classes on “girly stuff” (yes, it’s sexist) would be great. I packed up a box of textile supplies, including everything I needed to teach knitting, sewing, and spinning, and shipped it to my mother’s house to have ready to take with me to the workshop.

I’m still trying to process my thoughts about the weekend, because it was one of the most amazing events I’ve ever attended. Nicole sells about 65 tickets. Attendees are welcome to camp on her property; the three of us stayed at a “cabin”—more like a condo—at the nearby Edgar Evins State Park. I got to meet half a dozen people I’ve gotten to know from the homesteading chat group. We made new friends, including a woman whose husband bought her a ticket to the workshop for Christmas. She wasn’t sure she wanted to embrace the homesteading lifestyle, but she agreed to come to the event with an open mind and I am pretty sure she was persuaded by the end of the weekend.

We listened to presentations by entrepreneurs, content creators, and others who had crafted the lifestyles they want to live. At least three self-made millionaires were in attendance, including one who slept in his car because he doesn’t believe in living lavishly. I gave a 45-minute presentation, participated in a roundtable discussion, and taught several people—including a few guys—how to knit, spin, and sew. “Happy hour” in the late afternoons usually included a group of us sitting together knitting and visiting. Robert helped with the solar installation project. Deana went to a couple of canning presentations and to the talk on women entrepreneurs. (She used to own a daycare center.)

I can’t do justice to describing what it was like to be in that environment for three days—and by environment, I mean being surrounded by other people who are so single-mindedly determined to set the course of their lives rather than allowing life to happen to them. The husband and I have fielded various reactions over the past 30 years about to our decision to move to Montana and create what we have built together. Not all of those reactions have been positive. Being able to be with other people with the same mindset—knowing that we did the right thing for us—was wonderful.

I will post other highlights from the trip in the coming days, but I wanted you all to know where I have been for two weeks. I flew back to Seattle from Nashville Sunday night and drove home yesterday. Unfortunately, the trip back was not without incident. I was traveling eastbound on I-90 just outside of Ritzville, listening to music and minding my own business in the right-hand lane, when some idiot in a white Chevy van trying to merge onto the highway hit the right side of my car just above my back tire. (I hadn’t moved over because there were other cars in the left-hand lane.) I heard a loud “bang” and felt the car swerve. I thought I had blown a tire. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind not to slam on the brakes and managed to avoid a bigger accident. I slowed down and eased over to the side of the road, called 911, and a state trooper showed up within a few minutes. The other driver was cited. He admitted fault and we have his insurance information, but now I have one more thing on my to-do list this week.

It was 34 degrees and snowing when I left two weeks ago. I arrived home yesterday to 84 and sunny. The snow is gone. Everything is looking great in the greenhouse and we will have plenty of inventory for the plant sale thanks to Elysian. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork on my desk to sort through and piles of laundry to get done. I’m teaching a class at the quilt store Friday, we may be picking up piglets on Saturday morning, and the homestead foundation pie social is Saturday afternoon, but this is my life and I am happy to be back to it.