sons and a clear and certain knowledge that we were going to be self-sufficient. It all seemed so beautifully simple: I would continue teaching pottery, Gill would do her weaving, and along the way we would fix up the house, establish a craft workshop, dig a well, build a windmill, grow our own food, have chickens, and generally live happily ever after.
As I saw it at that time, our progress from bare plot to self-sufficiency was something like being Robinson Crusoe on his desert island. The general idea was not that we would go back to some sort of preindustrial, rural, horse-pulling basics, but rather that we would utilize the best of what was available—like Crusoe did from his wrecked ship—and use it to create a new world. All a bit romantic, I know, but that was the way we felt.
And so it was, when we were living at Valley Farm, that we tried to view every obstacle analytically through Cobbett-Thoreau-Crusoe eyes. We looked long and hard at each problem and then, over the ensuing days and weeks, did our best to figure out how to remedy the situation. For example, when it came to our water supply, we looked at the existing well, pumped it dry, timed how long it took to refill, and had the water tested. Then, in light of the fact that the water was grossly polluted, we went through various stages of collecting and storing rainwater, fitting various pumps and filters, drilling a borehole, and so on until we had potable water. It was the same with the wastewater, the livestock, and everything else. We looked at the problem, did the research, talked to people with experience in living off the grid, considered how each change or procedure would impact the environment, and then shaped our life accordingly.
Later, in the 1970s, we were influenced by two more books by British authors: Self-Sufficiency by John Seymour and The Autonomous House by Robert and Brenda Vale. We were also inspired by the American publication The Last Whole Earth Catalog and the Canadian publication Harrowsmith.
Naturally, we had many failures along the way, such as stock dying, running out of money, and taking advice from the wrong people, but every experience, good and bad, added to the sum of our knowledge. When we first started out, people like us were labeled “hairy hippies,” but gradually, with the 1970s oil crisis, the various American back-to-earth movements, and the British sitcom The Good Life, the media and the establishment came to accept that there was another way. While most people didn’t know precisely what that way was, they knew for sure that society at large was burning up irreplaceable resources and poisoning itself in the act.
Here we are, decades later, and have things significantly improved? The oil supplies are running out, there are more cars on the roads than ever, there is more pollution, the forests are being hacked down at a faster rate, people are stressed out by fast-paced living, and mass-produced, low-quality food is making people ill. On the positive side, whereas terms like ecological, eco-friendly, and recycling labeled their users as some sort of weird vegetarian egghead back in the 1960s, today they are a normal part of language and thinking.
People are asking really practical questions: How can we go off-grid? How can we heat our homes without gas and oil? How can we grow food without using chemicals? How can we maximize our recycling? The good news is that not only do we have the answers, but governments and think-tank groups are also urging people to be self-sufficient. For example, when I was looking around for a wind turbine back in the early 1970s, there were only one or two very expensive, hit-and-miss machines on the market; now there are dozens, perhaps hundreds, of reliable wind turbines to choose from. Better yet, there are government grants!
Just in case you are wondering, self-sufficiency is not about becoming all long-faced and wordy about the theoretical possibilities. It is about rolling up your sleeves and having fun in the course of cutting living costs, eating better, and generally doing your part in the “green revolution.” Of course, we know about not having enough cash and not having enough space, but we like to think that if everyone made some small change, we would be so much closer to the goal. If ever there was a time for self-sufficiency, this is it.
We hope that you will find this book both helpful and inspirational as you start on the exciting path to self-sufficiency.
Part 1: The Land
The Perfect Plot
If you want to become completely self-sufficient, you can’t approach it half-heartedly; you have to become passionate—obsessive, even—about self-sufficiency in all aspects of your life. When you reach this level of dedication, you can then start planning how you are going to turn your ideas into reality. When you and your family are truly committed to making this total lifestyle change, you will discover the excitement of thinking about all that is possible.
Start by asking yourself the following questions:
• How much land do you need?
• Is your dream plot in the city, suburbs, or country?
• Do you think about relocating to another state or even another country where property is less expensive?
• Do you want to try to go off-grid, meaning no electricity, water, or gas?
• Can you achieve self-sufficiency by staying where you are and renting land?
• Do you want to join a self-sufficient community?
• Are you going to continue a career?
• Do you have enough assets?
How Much Land Do You Need?
The amount of land you will need depends on the location, the climate, the quality of the land, and what you plan to do with the land. A single person could probably manage with half an acre (.20 hectare) of rich land if he or she were going to grow all of his or her own food, or grow cash crops and trade and swap for other essentials. Two people would need around 2 acres (.80 hectare), but they could probably make do with less land if they opted for coppiced woodland and made and sold products for cash. If your self-sufficiency dream involves fishing, horses, sheep, chickens, and the like, you will obviously need more land and should do some research based on the particular livestock you want to keep.
Ripening almonds on a branch.
Our first plot was a little more than an acre (.40 hectare) of remote land with poor, boggy ground and difficult access. We were in our late twenties with two babies. We succeeded simply because I earned money as a lecturer, and my regular income made everything possible. Gill was able to stay at home and do her weaving and I made pottery over summer breaks, all while looking after our two boys and keeping a few chickens, geese, sheep, and goats. Of course, it was not easy, but it worked for us because we lived off-grid and were not weighed down by utility bills.
Of course, much will depend upon your particular plans, the size of your budget, and your individual circumstances. What this all adds up to is that, while you have to start out with a dream, you also have to be