›› Jeremy Caradonna

Fernwood is a state of mind. This is a neighbourhood for people who believe in ­sustainable living and self-reliance. It’s a place full of “neo-locals”—folks who care about local organic food, a low-consumption lifestyle, and artistic ­creativity. So when my wife and I bought a house in ­Fernwood last year, we got into the spirit and decided to go full homesteading. First we sold our gas-powered car and bought a diesel so that we could run it on biodiesel. We joined the local biodiesel co-op, set up a barrel for deliveries, and started running our car on the fuel. Then we got chickens. We built a coop with our renters, bought all the gear, and tracked down six hens. It was, and is, our first time taking care of farm ­animals. And gardening, of course! We had big plans for the garden. When we bought the house, it had a cedrus deodara in the front yard that had been viciously topped. After some ado, we decided to cut it down and sheet-mulch the whole front yard, with its south-facing exposure. Over the past few years I’ve immersed myself in ­permaculture gardening techniques, but hitherto all my knowledge had been more textbookish than practical.

As you might imagine, things haven’t always gone according to plan. The biodiesel barrel sprang some leaks and remains finicky. Three days after taking the hens home, the one at the bottom of the ­pecking order—affectionately known as hen #6—unceremoniously gave up the ghost, due to the stress of moving to a new ­location. And my permaculture experience, while ­rewarding and enlightening, hasn’t been without its challenges. For instance, I ­accidentally put hay on the top of my sheet-mulch. But then I realized it was full of grass seed and ripped it out. So then I replaced it with straw, which turned out to be equally stuffed with grass seeds. “Didn’t your garden used to have straw on it,” a passerby asked me the other day. “It’s a long story,” I replied.

One rainy day, when I was feeling ­frustrated with the garden—What’s my soil’s PH? Is this sandy loam or loamy sand? Why is my kale so pathetic?—the sun ­suddenly broke and I was visited by Geoff Johnson, the local patron saint / wizard / guru of permaculture and an area resident of near legendary status. He brought me back down to earth with his simple ­wisdom. “It’s a process,” he said, “and your sheet-mulch looks really great.” “It does?,” I said. “I’ve sort of been agonizing over it.”

Homesteading and all that. It’s a ­process.