Yesterday was one of those days that reminds me why I’m building this life — not because everything went smoothly, but because it all came together in that imperfect way homesteading does.

I’d spent the morning driving Uber, bouncing between passengers and quiet moments alone in the car. My last drop-off of the day happened to be at Home Depot, and since I was already there, I decided to walk through the garden center. My original plan?

To look for materials to build a butterfly sculpture for the garden. The goal is to perfect the process so I can sell them. 

Colorado Springs is filled with public art — bright butterflies, metal horses, painted boxes, sculptures tucked into unexpected corners. It’s one of the things I love most about living here, and it’s been inspiring me to add more whimsical pieces to the homestead. So I walked toward the garden center out of habit, they have live Christmas trees, wreaths, and garland. I’ve wanted to grab some fresh garland so I thought I would take a look.

It was unusually warm for late November. A few display tables were pushed outside, something you don’t typically see this time of year. And that’s when I saw them:

Emerald Green Arborvitae.
1-gallon containers.
Little red holiday pots.
Tied with red bows.
$6.88 each.

A handwritten Special Buy sign marked them down from $12.98. I still don’t know if these were leftover holiday trees or if the other stores had simply sold out — but I knew a deal when I saw one. Especially here in the mountains, where trees usually come at mountain prices.

So I grabbed 15, I should have bought the entire table.
Loaded them into the back of the SUV.
And felt like I’d just won the garden lottery.

These trees are the beginning of my natural fencing and berm design — the quiet green walls I’m building to create a more peaceful, sheltered property. Today I went back and bought the last 3. That puts me at 18 trees total, ready to overwinter until they’re big enough to plant without becoming deer snacks.

And the funny thing?
I didn’t even go there for trees.
I went because butterflies inspired me.

Sometimes creativity leads you exactly where you need to go.

🌱 The Garlic Race Against Dark

By the time I got home, the sun was already dropping behind the ridge. I knew the cold was coming, and I had garlic ready to plant — but most of the garden beds were frozen solid. I couldn’t dig in a single one.

Except the strawberry bed.

I had covered it earlier in the fall with frost cloth and thick straw, and that small bit of protection kept the soil soft and unfrozen. So I knelt down, used my gloved hands, and dug the holes one by one — no shovel needed.

Forty-five minutes later, under the glow of a headlamp and the last scraps of daylight, every clove was in the ground.

Not perfect.
Not planned.
But done.

That’s homesteading.
That’s mountain life.
That’s building an intentional life — one small victory at a time.

🌼 And One More Win: Marigold Seeds

On Wednesday evening, before the weather changed, I harvested the last of the marigold seeds. Today I sat and cleaned them, sorting each dry seed from the spent petals. It’s meditative work — slow, steady, grounding. The kind of work that reminds me why I’m doing all this in the first place.

Come spring, these seeds will explode into the bright color that makes this place feel alive.

🌲 What Comes Next

This week’s unexpected wins — from the butterfly sculpture idea to the arborvitae sale to the garlic race — reminded me of something simple:

When you follow your curiosity, everything else falls into place.

These 18 little trees are the beginning of my natural fencing, my berms, and the quiet sanctuary I’m building on this land. The garlic is tucked in for winter. The marigolds are ready for next season. And the butterfly sculpture?
That’s still coming.

One day soon, I’ll record an art walk and share some of the Colorado Springs sculptures that inspire this place — because they’re part of this story, too.

For now, I’m just grateful for warm days in November, unexpected sales, loose soil, and the small, steady steps of creating the life I want.