Fair warning: once I get started talking about our property, I can't seem to shut up.
We closed on a 5-acre property coming up on two years ago. Our immediate concern at the time was a place with
enough infrastructure to house my dad and stepmom under the same roof... we succeeded in that, with enough available space to keep the four adults from driving each other mad, at least most of the time.
Imperfection reigns supreme. The house isn't nearly as energy-efficient as I would like - it is an owner-built creature with no discernable architectural value, finished in the halcyon days when it was still possible to believe that everything could carry on as it was, indefinitely. By which I mean 1993. The addition occupied by my dad was completed in 2003. When we got it, nothing had been updated since the day the occupancy permit was granted. We're slowly addressing the various and assorted interior deficiencies, largely with the assistance of Restore,
local architectural salvage outlets, elbow grease, and youtube. My fantasies include retrofitting our stick-built house with hempcrete and putting a rocket mass stove in the basement. For what it is worth, I have discovered that I'm a terrible drywall mudder.
Our outbuildings consist of a derelict
greenhouse, the 1800 sf garage (which was built to house the original family while the house was being built, and so includes a bedroom, a 3/4 bath, and a now-demolished mini kitchen), and a
tractor shed.
Of the 5 acres, ~4 are wooded. I know nothing of Maryland's original forests, but the woods are old enough to have poplar
trees that I can't get my arms around. It seems like there are a lot of dead trees falling down, but maybe that's normal? I'm not terribly interested in clearing our woods to make room for a garden, though the trees do present some serious challenges for us. In the pro column, the trees are stabilizing our clay soil where it starts sliding into our ravine. In the con column, the most likely space for growing things to eat is shaded.
The
greenhouse was probably perfectly functional when erected in 1993, but is now shaded out by the surrounding woods. It is constructed with posts set in
concrete and T-11 for the waist-height walls, then your expected framework in a steep A-shape that supports the glass roof. My current fantasy for the greenhouse is a "renovation" permit to install a rubble trench for a foundation and
cob or light-clay
straw infill, or rammed earth walls for a studio space, perhaps with a 1/2 bath - composting toilet - and a lean-to type greenhouse space.
Falling tree branches have wreaked havoc on the glass roof of the greenhouse, and the ground is covered in broken glass. Which is in keeping with the various and assorted junk dumped around the property: glass clorox bottles, old televisions, surprise carpet under the leaf litter, an antique fan, tires, appliances... You name it, and I can walk you to a place on the property where that item has been discarded. The clean up is slow going, but the age of the detritus tells me that this may be
land that has never been cleared.
The grounds haven't had much TLC. Two years ago, there wasn't much by way of pollinator-friendly stuff going on. I've planted some, but there is so much more to do. Our primary screening from the road is provided by three clusters of invasives. I've demolished one of the three, but need to get the replacement screening stuff growing before I attack the remaining two. I've decided and changed my mind repeatedly on what exactly those screening items are going to be.
Our topography is a mess. There is erosion happening around the foundation of the house, the
yard is lumpy and nowhere near approaching level. I plan on doing some terracing, probably with relatively short rammed tire walls. I've seen enough of failing retaining walls to have discarded the notion of a single wall taller than 4 feet, but it seems to me with a gravel bed underneath, and gravel behind, plus low terracing (and a half-formed notion of putting a gabion-like facing on the tires, because I do need to retain the overall salability of the property and things built from tires are not terribly attractive), I could do something to slow the erosion and make the yard a little friendlier for my elderly parents (and for my future self as I am, inevitably, headed the same general direction.) Then there are the raised beds to support the step-mom in her
gardening (I have ... we'll call them creative ... plans for those too).
I get a panic attack thinking about all the things that need doing, how little we have by way of disposable income to make it happen, and the challenges of doing the work yourself when you also have a full-time job. We aren't headed in the direction of being full-blown, pure permies. We might not even make it to being half-blown, semi-pure permies, though the ethos of making things better whilst doing no harm is pretty important to us. My priorities are driven by a desire to do right by the land we've taken stewardship over, and within that framework, to
feed ourselves to the degree possible.
Currently, I'm trying to set up space where my optimistic purchases will go: elderberry,
native plum, damson plum, fig, peach trees, and edible crab
apple. I also want to find a good solution for some wildlife/pollinator-friendly understory shrubs to further stabilize the slopes into the ravine without blocking sunlight. I want to attract more wildlife into our woods. Research says opossum are good for tick-eating, owls make me happy, and
bats to combat the mosquitoes. We already have an abundance of
deer, the occasional fox, and the fattest woodchucks imaginable. My parents are determined in their feeding of the blue jays, cardinals, and hummingbirds, averaging about 40 lbs in seed every month.
My decision-making goes like this:
Native > Exotic
Low-maintenance > Fussy
Food/Functional > Ornamental
Anything > grass
DIY > Purchased
Salvage > New
Chemically inert > Unknown chemistry with unknown consequences
Imperfect today > perfect never
With all of this, we have one more challenge: I don't know what the **** I'm doing. So I'm here to soak up knowledge, take recommendations/advice, borrow the lessons from other people's learning opportunities, and share seedlings locally, when practical.
cal.
4
