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Goodbye Orange Extension Cord of Doom

This month we tackled an important infrastructure upgrade for both the house and the shop. I installed a new electrical sub panel along with a generator interlock breaker to give us safer and more reliable power across the property.

The generator interlock gives us the ability to run the entire house on generator power when needed. We brought several generators with us from Florida and used them regularly during hurricane season. Having that same backup capability here in Tennessee gives us peace of mind. If the power goes out, we can still keep the essentials running and stay comfortable while we wait for service to be restored.

The new sub panel is dedicated to the shop. Until now, the shop had been powered by a long extension cord run from the house. It worked, but it was far from ideal and definitely not how things should be long term. With the sub panel in place, the shop now has proper, stable power with plenty of capacity for tools and future projects.

It feels good to replace temporary solutions with permanent ones. These upgrades may not be exciting to look at, but they make daily work safer, smoother, and more reliable. Little by little, the property is becoming more functional and better equipped for the kind of work we plan to do here.

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Protecting the orchard

It did not take long for us to learn that we are not the only ones excited about our new orchard. As the weeks passed, we started to notice signs that the deer had discovered the young fruit trees. A few nibbled leaves here and there quickly turned into a clear pattern of nightly visits.

After all the work that went into planting those trees in July, we knew we had to act fast. So this month we installed electric fencing around the entire orchard to give it the protection it needs to get established.

The setup was a learning process, from laying out the posts to setting the proper height and making sure the charger was strong enough to do the job. Once everything was in place, it finally felt like the trees had a fighting chance.

The goal is simple. Give the orchard time to grow without constant pressure from wildlife. The deer will always be part of this land, and we respect that. But for now, the trees need a little help if they are going to survive and thrive.

With the fence up and running, we feel much better about the future of the orchard. It is one more small step toward protecting what we are building here.

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A First Garden Season

Earlier this year, we installed six raised garden beds with no real expectations beyond learning as we went. This was our first true attempt at gardening on this land, and we knew there would be a learning curve.

As summer has rolled on, those beds have surprised us. The plants are thriving and the garden is producing better than we expected for a first year. Strawberries have taken off, ginger is growing strong, squash vines are stretching in every direction, and the tomato plants are loaded. Asparagus has produced steadily all season. A mix of herbs fills in the rest of the space, adding color and scent every time we walk past.

There have been mistakes along the way. Some things did better than others, and a few lessons came the hard way. But overall, the garden has been generous. Harvesting food that came straight from the soil we work every day never gets old.

These six raised beds are already teaching us what grows well here and what needs more attention. More than that, they are reminding us that steady effort adds up. For a first year, we are grateful for what they have given us.

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Planting the orchard

Today was a big day for the farm. We brought home eighteen fruit trees and planted the start of what we hope will become a thriving orchard over the years ahead.

We chose a mix of varieties so that the harvest will be spread across the season and the land will have some built in diversity. Several types of apple trees went into the ground, along with peaches, plums, and pears. Right now they are small and quiet, easy to overlook if you do not know what is coming.

Planting trees is a different kind of work than most of what we do here. It is slow. It asks for patience. The real reward is not months away, but years out. Yet there is something grounding about setting roots into the soil and imagining what those branches will hold one day.

The orchard does not look like much yet, just neat rows of stakes and leaves. But it already represents long term thinking, steady care, and a belief that this land will provide if we are willing to invest the time.

Eighteen little trees are now part of this place. We look forward to watching them grow.

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Well, that sucks.

Our homestead in Florida had a well, and we loved it. The water tasted great, and it gave us a level of independence and self reliance that fit the way we live. When we moved to Tennessee, even though the house is on city water, we wanted to bring that same independence here.

So we called the best well drilling company in the area. They set up, drilled for two full days, and went down to seven hundred feet. By the time they wrapped up, we were already into the project for more money than we ever conceived of spending. Then came the bad news.

The well produces only one-half gallon per minute. It is nowhere near enough water to support a household, and certainly not enough for a working homestead. The water is there, but not in a usable volume. After all that work and cost, it feels like the well just does not want to cooperate.

So what now?

We are going to pivot. The plan is to install cistern tanks to catch rainwater from the gutters and pair that with a pump that also draws from the small amount of water coming from the well. It will be a more complex and more expensive system, but it should give us the level of water independence we are looking for.

If all goes well, we hope to move into part two of this project next spring. There are challenges ahead, but this is the path we have. And like everything on the homestead, we will learn, adapt, and keep moving forward.

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Summer is in full swing

Summer has settled into the mountains, and it could not be more welcome. The days are warm, but not heavy. The kind of warmth that sits gently on your shoulders instead of pressing down on you. The grass is thick and bright, growing faster than we can walk it. Everywhere we look, the trees are full and green, filling out every ridge and hollow.

The mountain views feel bigger this time of year. Layers of blue and green stack against the sky, sharp and clear on some mornings and softened by mist on others. It is a sight that never seems to lose its charm. Even after months here, we still catch ourselves stopping to take it all in.

Summer work has its usual rhythm. Fencing, mowing, tending animals, watching the pasture fill in, and trying to stay ahead of whatever the land decides to do next. But there is also a calmness to this season. A steady, growing pace that matches the landscape itself.

Right now, everything feels alive. The grass, the trees, the hills, the air. It reminds us why we chose this place, and why the work here matters. Summer in Tennessee is a gift, and we are grateful to be living inside it.

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Unexpected Guests

Every now and then, the farm gives you a moment that just makes you smile. While feeding the chickens and ducks this morning, I kept hearing a soft chirping sound. I was not expecting babies, so I brushed it off at first. Then it happened again.

It turns out one of our Muscovy ducks decided to make a nest on top of the chicken coop without us noticing. She quietly sat on her eggs and hatched a small batch of ducklings all on her own.

The ducklings eventually made their way down and into the coop. The hens looked just as confused as I was, unsure of what to make of the tiny newcomers running between their legs.

Life on the farm has a way of surprising us, usually when we least expect it. And this morning it came in the form of a handful of healthy little ducks that arrived without any help from us at all.

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Creating Room to Grow

When we moved from Florida, my mom and stepdad came with us. We live upstairs and they live downstairs. It has been a blessing to have family here, but it also means two households trying to share the same space. As time went on, we found ourselves running out of room in the shop building no matter how hard we tried to organize and reduce.

After a lot of sorting and frustration, it became clear that the only real solution was to expand. We are adding on to the existing building so that we can have more functional room. The current structure will stay as general storage. The new section will serve as a wood shop as well as a semi-enclosed carport area for the tractor, lawn mower, and the tools that are constantly in use around the property.

We hired a local contractor named Jake to bring the ground level up around the shop. He graded the slope and built the area up so it meets the existing foundation height. Once the soil settles, concrete will be poured for the new floor and the driveway will be extended.

Right now the project looks like bare dirt and a wider footprint, but it already feels better. There is more space to work and breathe, and room to keep equipment out of the weather. It will make day to day tasks a little easier and the entire place more organized.

It is a simple change, but an important one. A little more space means fewer headaches, smoother projects, and a shop that can keep up with the needs of the farm as it grows.

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And then there were six.

When we rolled into Tennessee a few months ago, we brought with us five adult sheep. They were the first grazing animals to set foot on this mountain land, and we hoped they would also be the first to help us begin shaping the woods into silvopasture.

So much of this journey has been faith. We do our best, we learn a little, we adjust, then we trust that the land and the animals will teach us the rest.

Today, that reminder arrived in a brand new and unexpected form.

This morning, our first lamb was born on the mountain. No barn, no stall, no alerts. Just a ewe, her newborn, and the cold air rolling through the ridgeline. It was simple and beautiful, and it felt like the land quietly welcomed us.

We have a long road ahead. Pastures are still just ideas framed in temporary electric netting, and there is much to learn about stewarding this steep terrain. But seeing new life arrive here has made this place feel more like home.

Here is to the ewe, the tiny lamb, and the first birth on Tennessee soil. It feels like our journey here has truly begun.

— The Langley Family