LIVE COUNTRY IN THE CITY

Image Gallery

Living in an urban trailer court didn't stop Jay Williams from working toward self-sufficiency, because he made up his mind to. . .

Do you get pangs of jealousy whenever you read articles about folks who're raising, eating, and putting up their own vegetables . . . while the only thing you're growing is another day older? Do you dream of warming your hands beside a wood stove . . . every time you turn up the furnace thermostat?

Can you tell your friends all the ins and outs of solar collectors . . . but find no time or space to build your sun-catcher? And are you piggy-banking funds for your very own back forty . . . while you wonder if you'll ever be able to afford a front "one or two"?

Well Bunky, perhaps you should quit making excuses and start building that new life right where you are! I'm not just spitting into the wind, either, 'cause I know-from my own experience-that it can be done! You see, my lady friend and I grow and put up veggies, raise and eat small livestock, and heat our home with wood and our water with sunshine . . . yet we live in a 100-unit trailer court that's smack in the middle of an 85,000 person metropolis!

BACK TO THE CITY

My "citysteading" success story began when I abandoned life as a smog-breathing, money-grubbing Los Angeleno and headed out for some longed-for rural living in the Trinity Alps of northern California. Unfortunately, after nine months of hard knocks in the sticks, I realized that-though I had the necessary enthusiasm-I sorely lacked homesteadin' knowledge. I just wasn't ready to live in the country yet.

Still, I didn't like the thought of facing the L.A. treadmill again, so I migrated to a friend's town: Sioux City, Iowa. And there-in the aforementioned trailer court-I hooked up with a fine young woman named Angela and her four-year-old son, Terence. Unfortunately, the funds we pooled that autumn were "minute" (hers), "minuter" (mine), and "minutest" (Terence's). So-like it or not-we were pretty much forced to adopt some homesteading-type steps toward independence.

Angie and I began our move toward self-sufficiency by scouring back issues of THE MOTHER EARTH NEWS® (I'd introduced her to my collection back when we started sparkin' ). And the articles in dear of MOTHER convinced us that our initial moneysaving step should be to cut down on what would surely be some humongous winter heating bills. And thus-into our chilly "home, mobile home"-entered . . .

THE WOOD STOVE

I dug my 1895 cast-iron wood-burner out of storage (I had practically abandoned the "worthless" old relic) and installed it according to the local safety regulations for trailers. That operation was easy enough, and-before long-we were all set for snow season . . . except for one little thing: wood. Here it was fall already, and we had no chain saw or available firewood! But-not a whit deterred-Angie and I solved that problem by "citifying" a time-honored country custom: barter. I merely called local tree removal businesses until I found one that was willing to deliver loads of dry wood to our mobile domicile. You see, those urban wood-chopping folk often have to pay a trash yard for the privilege of dumping their timber trimmin's. So I saved them money, and they gave me wood. A nice trade, no?