The Homesteading Kitchen vs. the Model Kitchen

As I write this, the breadmaker sits on the floor to my right, underneath what could be a breakfast bar if we'd ever bothered to buy some bar stools.   There's a vase filled with kitchen utensils next to the stove, and a little later today there will be a huge fermenting bucket of carrot mash (which will eventually become wine)  sitting in the kitchen on the floor.


A couple of months ago, before we sold this house, our realtor wisely advised we put away everything that could clutter the place, including all the aforementioned items.  It's easy to see why: Selling a home is more about selling an idea than an actual dwelling.  When we tour a home and see a spotless, uncluttered kitchen, something in our brains makes this weird connection, almost saying, "if I lived here, my kitchen would look like this."  In reality, we know this isn't true, yet when we put ourselves into the model kitchen, we somehow believe it.


But if you are a homesteader, you should doubly know this will never be the case.  Homesteaders live in their kitchens.  It's where we wash and clean our harvested fruits and vegetables, it's where all the serious homestead alchemy we do is accomplished (including home butchering for some, canning and preserving food, making soap, detergent, and lotions from scratch, etc.) and there is a lot of stuff that comes with those activities.


And so the breadmaker is left out where we can conveniently grab it, our pantry is filled with both full and empty mason jars,  and there's winemaking equipment around.  Our counters are dirty because we just bought in an armload of carrots to clean.  There's pruning shears laying around, re-usable kitchen rags on the counter, a composting pail next to the sink and plastic bags drying so they can be re-used. 


We recently made the mistake of making an offer on a house that never would have worked for us.  The reason?  It was beautiful, but did not have enough room.  Thankfully things fell through, but I will never again fall for the myth of the spotless kitchen, because, as the kids say, "that's just not how I roll."


So give me the house where I can leave the breadmaker on the floor and accidentally spill lye on the counters and it won't ruin anything:  the spotless life is beautiful, but not for me.  I am a homesteader.