Years ago, while raising our kids, my husband and I were no strangers to struggle. Financially, we were always stretched thin. To make ends meet, we grew some of our own food, gleaned what we could from neighbors and roadside fruit trees, and bought what we needed from local farmers. We canned, froze, preserved, and stretched every dollar in our food budget as much as we could.
But somewhere along the line, life started getting busy and out of control. I started wandering through life instead of living it.
My husband faced several serious health issues. We moved more times than I care to count, each one driven by life’s unpredictability. We both juggled full-time jobs and side gigs, but never quite got ahead. The truth is—I was a spender. Depression had a grip on me, and buying something shiny or new gave me a fleeting sense of joy. That is, until I got home, checked the mail, and saw the bills waiting for me like a reality check I didn’t ask for.
As our children grew up and moved out, life didn’t slow down—it just changed shape. We became caretakers again, this time for my dear mother-in-law. To keep her out of a nursing home, my husband and I moved into her home. I took on her daily care. She needed a lot—emotionally, physically, medically—and I gave her all I had.
And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
But in that season of constant caregiving, I lost myself. I slipped away from my own kids, family, and friends. My world narrowed to her needs, and my husband’s continued health issues only added to the weight.
But in the quiet, there was something that never left me: gardening, preserving, and canning. That was my refuge. My tiny corner of peace in a chaotic life.
When my mother-in-law passed and my husband had a mild stroke, we knew it was time for another shift. We needed to be closer to town, doctors, and hospitals. That’s when we found The House on Main—our little corner of the world. Not a farm, not a ranch, but a homestead in spirit. A fresh start.
These days, our garden is made up of three raised beds, some pots, and a few humble buckets. But oh, they are full of promise. We won’t be raising herds of animals, but our two little bunnies help support the soil, and our dogs and cats keep things lively.
I’ve learned to live more simply, with purpose, and slowly, I’ve started to love myself again. I’ve rediscovered who I am through quiet mornings in the garden, messy afternoons in the kitchen, and little moments of joy in an ordinary day. I’m finding healing through homesteading, faith, and a life that’s finally mine.
Thank you, friends, for being here—for walking this road with me. I hope you follow along, and if you’re in your own season of struggle or starting over, may you find encouragement here. Learn from me if you need to. You’re not alone.
With a full heart,
Kathy