We Discovered Self-Reliance on a Maine Island

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It's a blustery, uncommonly cold spring day here on Long Island, Maine . . . and I've just finished watering my flats of seedlings, hoping the timid young plants will discover that it really is spring and time to grow. I can see my husband, Bob, out front chopping wood . . . once again for "the last time this year"! And—while the children are napping upstairs, and fresh whole wheat loaves are rising in the kitchen—I have a quiet moment to sit back in the sunny warmth of our passive solar home and reflect on the many events that, like a series of sometimes faltering footsteps, brought us to live on this rugged island.

Who'd have thought, back in 1966—when Bob's parents first gave us these three oceanfront acres as a wedding gift—that one day we'd actually quit our city ways (I was a highly paid computer consultant, and Bob was teaching part time while finishing up his master's degree in economics) to become homesteaders? But, amazingly enough, we did!

A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION

The decision to change our lifestyle didn't just pop into our heads overnight, though . . . far from it! In fact, when we were newlyweds, Bob and I were much too career-minded to even think about leaving the city. So, at first, we used the island only for occasional weekend camping trips. Then, gradually—as we grew to enjoy our getaway excursions more and more—we allowed ourselves to consider the prospect of living in tune with nature all of the time . . . but our enthusiasm was tempered by the fact that we still loved our work. To resolve this growing quandary, we compromised and bought a house on the outskirts of the city in which we were employed. The move allowed us to try our hands at homesteading (part time), and still be able to commute to our jobs.

However—once we were actually living in the country—Bob and I quickly developed a love for the rural luxuries that were so new to us (such as taking peaceful walks in the woods . . . growing our own vegetables for the first time . . . and learning about the owls, beavers, and the like that inhabited our surroundings). And, one at a time, we began to shed our city ways. We traded our Jaguar XKE in on a Volkswagen bug, replaced our meat—rich diet with a semivegetarian one, and learned to heat with wood instead of oil. As we came to accept these changes, our nine-to-five routine slowly lost its appeal . . . while our land in Maine became increasingly attractive. Suddenly it seemed more than just a mere retreat . . . it had become a potential homeplace where we might settle (full time) and begin to raise a family.

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