I may be waiting for the homestead to grow, but the homestead is already growing me. Even in a season of smaller spaces and changed abilities, there is still something to tend—and something being cultivated in us along the way.

There’s a myth that homesteading requires acreage, livestock, and perfect health. This morning proves otherwise. It’s winter. I’m fighting yet another round of illness. And still, the day began at the crack of dawn.