The Reluctant Minimalist

The Reluctant Minimalist

My daughters and I moved to Tennessee with a suitcase each. My husband was scheduled to come a week later with the rest of our things, but by the time he arrived, I had already gotten settled and didn’t want to disturb this newfound equilibrium by hauling fifty boxes into the apartment. I compromised with ten boxes, but I found I didn’t need half of what they held. Instead, I stored them in the attic and used the hodge-podge of kitchen items my mother-in-law had lent to us for our temporary stay.

The same was true for our children’s toys. My husband, from time to time, will go on a decluttering spree: bagging up dolls, puzzles, and what he calls “cheap China junk” to be given to charity or thrown, depending on the state of said items.

Before we moved, my husband packed up the play room. I knew better than to watch him, because I am a sentimentalist and will want to keep any small item because I can clearly remember how my four-year-old looked while playing with it once.

So, he packed and tossed, and then I promptly went outside and sorted through the dumpster, hauling out at least three “precious” items before my husband caught me red-handed and laughed to beat the band. The astounding thing, though, was that our girls didn’t even notice that they were down to a few of their favorite dolls and art materials. Plus, they didn’t fight as much as before because there simply wasn’t as much to fight over. They had to use their imaginations while playing, so that one time we discovered the girls wrapping a foot-long board in their blankies, like a doll.

My husband and I were so thrilled with how much easier it was to clean up after our children, and even more, with the creative ways we were seeing them use their minds, that we simply did not unpack their boxes of toys when we moved into the apartment. Of course, they have about four dolls sprawled across the carpet right now in various stages of dress, along with puzzles, blocks, and books, so family members reading this need not be alarmed.

I also thought I would miss my wardrobe of brightly-patterned clothes and shoes, which I have accumulated through thrift store pursuing since college. But I don’t. Not really. (Though I did unpack every single piece of jewelry I own; I do have my limitations.) This, too, surprises me, and I’m not sure if I’m going to have the fortitude to go through everything once we move into our (next) temporary home.

And here lies the greatest shift for us as a family: my husband and I are attempting to build our new house completely off the grid. In Wisconsin, our farm was powered in part by solar. For the first year, I didn’t touch a dryer, even with a newborn who had blowouts, and a husband who was recuperating from surgery and therefore needed his sheets as sterile as possible. This experience shocks me now, but sometimes you don’t realize how deprived you were until you are using such amenities again.

But, last night, on our way into town for a date, my husband said, “I want to ask you something; it’s okay if you don’t like the idea.”

I thought, Oh, boy. Here we go.

He said, “Fridges take up a lot of juice and make no sense, energy-wise, since the minute you open the door, all of that cold air is pouring around your feet. So—” he glanced over while he drove “—what if we would use a chest freezer for a refrigerator?”

He explained that they make a device that can be installed in a chest freezer, which keeps it at fridge temps, using much less energy, since we’re attempting to get off the grid. I would have compartments where I could store produce and other items. The more he talked, and the more I thought about it, the more it made complete sense, to the point that I even began to wonder why any of us pull our milk out of a standing refrigerator.

In Wisconsin, we had chickens and a pretty large garden, but that was the extent of our little hobby farm. I took my four-year-old to an optometrist this week, because she’s having trouble focusing her eyes. The doctor ended up being amazingly naturopathically-minded when it comes to health. He said that 95% of our nation’s diseases are connected to food, and this was further confirmation that my husband and I want to grow our own.

Our family has had just a small taste of homesteading, but we are hungry for more. We have forty-five acres (with a creek!) here in Tennessee, and we would eventually love to raise our own grass-fed beef, free-range chickens, and goats for milk.

I am honestly not sure how all of this is going to pan out (for instance, my husband wants to heat our water with compost), but I am excited that we’re going to incorporate what we learned in Wisconsin here in Tennessee, and maybe even learn some more during the process!

Have you ever considered using alternative energy in your household, or yearned to live off the land? If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Can’t promise I know the answer, but I can always make one up. 😉