Cooking over a fire soothes the soul. © Copyright Michelle Schoffro Cook. All rights reserved.
When I bought my home several years ago, it seemed at odds with my yearning for a simpler life living closer to nature. After all, the house needed a significant amount of work and I had sworn off “project houses” after my prior experiences. I knew the house needed many renovations when I bought it and a book-length inspection report can attest to that fact, but I wanted an affordable acreage and home that wouldn’t mean paying a mortgage until the day I died.
In addition to being in a state of disrepair, none of the rooms were even delineated as “kitchen,” “laundry room,” “dining room,” etc., except for an closet-sized kitchenette with only a sink and small fridge. There was also a studio apartment in an addition at the back of the house. A century-old home that was still stuck in days gone by, there weren’t even hookups for a washer and dryer, none of the electrical for a full-size stove, or any plumbing for a kitchen sink in a room.
For years, I had been dreaming of homesteading on a forested piece of land and decided I was ready to turn that vision into reality no matter what it took and, as I quickly learned, it was going to take a lot. But, there was just something about this home and property that kept calling me back to it, so I put on my foreman hat, toilet scrubbing rubber gloves, and tattered painting clothes and set aside my reservations about renovations and decided to take on the project.
Upon arrival, my husband and I spent multiple days cleaning the studio apartment at the back of the house just so we’d feel more comfortable living there, even if we were sleeping on a futon mattress on the floor and relaxing in a couple of outdoor folding reclining chairs at the end of lengthy days of cleaning, repairing, and renovating the rest of the house. It was far from perfect and I confess: I shed more than a few tears about whether I had made the right decision over the many months that followed.
We arrived during a massive blizzard so it wasn’t surprising that the local pub was the only place to get some food, but the white-out conditions made us grateful to find any food at all and we were eager to put the drive, and ourselves, to bed.
Once the weather cleared and I felt content with the level of cleanliness in the studio to bring food into the space, I went to the grocery store and bought a few items to cook for the night’s meal. Within a few minutes of turning the apartment stove on, it emitted such a repugnant smell that I knew that was the last time I’d use it. I had to leave the door and windows open for several hours in the icy winter air just to get the suffocating smell and smoke out of the space. I still haven’t replaced that stove as there have been higher priorities for the budget and time constraints, but it’s on the seemingly endless “to do” list that I’ve accepted as normal since buying a fixer upper.
Sautéing vegetables in a cast iron frying pan on an old wood stove. © Copyright Michelle Schoffro Cook. All rights reserved.
The timeworn woodstove in the studio was already heating the space with a bit of firewood left on the property to keep heating bills down so it was the perfect option to cook dinner. It’s not a typical wood cookstove designed for cooking but it worked fine. I pulled out a cast iron frying pan with a lid that I had packed into my utility trailer and began sautéing veggies. Most of my possessions weren’t scheduled to arrive in the moving truck for a couple of weeks. Then, I added some bottled water (my well and water system still needed some TLC) and a package of noodles to make a soup.
It wasn’t fancy, but it worked. It was a delicious, hot meal after an arduous 4300-kilometre (nearly 2700 miles) cross country drive through icy roads, blizzards with almost no visibility, and sleeping in the vehicle in -24 degree Celsius (-11 Fahrenheit) temperatures, all while pulling a utility trailer with a few essentials. There was something deeply satisfying about cooking that first meal over a woodstove in my new place and cozying up by the fire for warmth. It wasn’t luxury living, but it was lovely and was slowly becoming home.
Follow my blog, “The Art of Simply Living” as I share strategies to save money and gain greater self-sufficiency, inspiring stories from my homesteading journey, delicious and nutritious recipes, techniques to grow or forage your own foods and natural medicines, all with the goal of helping you live a healthy, happy, and meaningful life close to nature.
