By definition, homesteading is a culture of rule breakers, which is part of the reason I love it more than a good thunderstorm on a hot day.
That’s what drew most of us to this life in the first place, ain’t it?
Yet even the most contrarian clubs tend to develop their own set of rules faster than weeds after a spring rain. It’s funny how that works—we rebel against mainstream society, then turn around and create our own little boxes to fit into.
As I’ve watched the online homestead community explode over the years (which, by the way, was the topic of my podcast this week), I’ve realized that I’m not great at coloring within the lines—even in the world of homesteading.
Turns out I’m about as good at following homestead rules as a cat is at following commands.
Here are a few of the “homestead rules” I love to break:
1. I hate wearing aprons.
Now before you come for me with pitchforks, let me explain. I think aprons are functional and cute as a bug’s ear on other people. I just don’t like them for myself, and I’ve tried more times than I can count.
They make me feel like I’m playing dress-up instead of just living my life. Plus, with our Wyoming winds that could knock a cow sideways, those ties just flap around like surrender flags, and the whole thing ends up twisted around my waist looking like I lost a fight with a tornado.
2. I wear jeans and t-shirts, not prairie dresses.
Don’t get me wrong—if prairie dresses are your thing, you rock them like nobody’s business. But flowy fabric of any sort isn’t functional when you’re dealing with 50-mph winds that could relocate you to Kansas. Plus, my tomboy-ish self just doesn’t love frilly things, never has and probably never will.
I need clothes that can handle wrestling a calf, fixing fence, and crawling under equipment without looking like I got attacked by a fabric store.
3. I use soap on cast iron.
This may be the most controversial thing I’ve ever said online.
I don’t do it all the time, but I’m not afraid to use a bit of dish soap on the worst messes. And before you start planning my intervention, let me tell you—if a pan is well-seasoned, a little soap won’t harm it any more than rain hurts a duck.
Sometimes that pan needs more than just salt and elbow grease, and I’m not going to sacrifice a good meal because I’m too stubborn to use soap when it’s needed.
4. We eat potato chips sometimes.
GASP. I know, I know—scandalous stuff right here.
It’s true. We eat very clean most days, cooking from scratch and all that jazz, but I’m not above occasional junk food when the situation calls for it. The food we eat on a regular basis is my biggest focus—if we grab a fast-food cheeseburger while we’re in town running errands all day, I don’t lose sleep over it.
Life’s too short to feel guilty about the occasional bag of chips, especially when you’re eating clean 90% of the time.
5. I don’t milk every day.
When our cow is in milk, I calf-share a lot, which means I usually milk a couple days per week and leave the calf on the rest of the time. To me, it’s the best of both worlds—I get fresh milk when I want it, but I’m not tied to a twice-daily schedule like I’m running a commercial dairy operation.
Some folks think this is lazy. I think it’s smart time management.
6. I don’t like goats.
Here comes the hate mail.
I’ve tried to like goats for over a decade, Lord knows I have. We’ve milked them, bred them, and kidded them out. I think they’re a good option for many folks, and I won’t argue with anyone who loves their goats like family.
But given the choice, I’ll take a cow over a goat any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Cows are easier for me to handle, they produce more milk, and they don’t treat every fence like a personal challenge to overcome.
7. We use antibiotics on our animals if needed.
We do not feed medicated feed or maintenance antibiotics—that’s different than what I’m talking about. But if one of our animals is suffering and a dose of penicillin will solve the problem, I won’t withhold that just to maintain some kind of purity test.
The welfare of the animal comes first, always. (However, if we do have to give medicine to one of our beef animals, they get moved out of our Genuine Beef program because we’re transparent about our practices.)
8. I don’t make everything from scratch.
Sometimes I buy bread from the store. Sometimes I use store-bought mayo. Sometimes I grab pre-made cookies when I’m in a hurry and need something for an event.
I make a lot of things from scratch because I enjoy it and because homemade usually tastes better, but I’m not going to drive myself crazy trying to make every single thing from raw ingredients. That’s a recipe for burnout faster than you can say “sourdough starter.”
9. We use modern technology when it makes sense.
I’m not trying to recreate 1850 in my kitchen, folks. I use a stand mixer, a food processor, and a dishwasher because they make my life easier and more efficient. I use a milking machine instead of hand-milking because it’s faster and more sanitary.
Just because something is old-fashioned doesn’t automatically make it better. Sometimes modern improvements are actually improvements.
10. I don’t grow all our own food.
We grow a lot of our vegetables, raise our own meat, and produce our own dairy. But I still buy plenty of stuff at the store—grains, fruit we can’t grow here, spices, and lots of other staples.
The goal isn’t complete self-sufficiency; it’s knowing where our food comes from and having control over the quality of what we eat most often.
Here’s the thing about rules—whether they’re mainstream rules or homestead rules:
They’re supposed to serve you, not the other way around. The minute a rule starts making your life harder without any real benefit, it’s time to question whether that rule makes sense for your situation.
Homesteading is supposed to be about freedom, self-reliance, and living according to your own values. If you’re following someone else’s rules so strictly that you can’t adapt them to your own life, you’ve missed the whole point.
So break some rules, y’all. Figure out what works for your family, your land, your budget, and your goals. Don’t let anyone—not even other homesteaders—tell you you’re doing it wrong if it’s working for you.
After all, we didn’t choose this lifestyle to follow someone else’s playbook. We chose it to write our own.
Happily breaking rules since 2008,
-Nichole
P.S. If any of these confessions have you clutching your pearls, just remember—the beauty of homesteading is that there’s no one right way to do it. Your homestead, your rules. My homestead, my rules. And we can all be friends even if we disagree about aprons and goats.
