A Celebration of the Unrational

I tried to warn him. I’ve been nagging Ian for weeks to write a guest post on my blog. He kept saying he would get around to it, but it hasn’t happened yet. Call this a revenge post if you will. Though that’s not really accurate because I’m pretty sure Ian would love it. Call it a celebration of the quirkier side of living in almost complete isolation with one other person you thought you knew pretty well but very quickly realized you know next to nothing about. Not that any of this was unexpected. But it’s sure interesting to experience. November 14 is our three month wedding anniversary, and a lot of life has happened since that crazy day in August.

Three months of marriage have caused us to create nicknames for each other. When I get frustrated by Ian’s matter-of-fact answers I call him “Rational Maaaan” (said in a deep thunderous voice like how you would call for a super hero in their opening song). He flips the conversation on me by squealing “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemotive Girl”.  While Ian thinks with his head, I trust my heart to lead me, often putting more stock in my own intuition than the facts around me. For a man that sets the course of his life by fact, this can be unforgivable in arguments. I could easily use an entire blog post to talk about some of the tension and sheer confusion that these different ways of viewing the world create for us. But for now, just to for the pleasure of posting some of my favorite pictures, I will show the world that my new husband’s actions aren’t always as rational as they may seem to him.

So without farther ado, enjoy these exceptionally rare photos of a decidedly UNrational Ian!

Tackling an entire forest of brambles with only a garden rake to aid him.
This guy is crazy. If I tell him to spend the afternoon pulling rotten apples out from under a porch, he actually DOES it.
Brooding. Pensive. A pose that brings up many questions- like what the heck is he looking at on his out-of-service cell phone?
This photo moment makes me think of a lot of significantly more dramatic alternative endings.
Turns out the mule WASN’T wide enough to make it between the garden and the house with its load intact.

The pump works great- but after about five minutes Ian stopped, dripping in sweat, and mumbled that it would probably be easier just to use a five gallon bucket.

These photos are of one of Ian’s summer projects- a bike powered water pump! At home he used it to spray me when I walked by, but now on our homestead it can be exceptionally useful. Since we don’t have any outdoor water spigots, a system to pump water from our rain barrels and through a hose will be very necessary for watering the garden in the spring.

Turns out that tree couldn’t hold his weight after all. Ian learned this lesson the hard way after crashing out of it, and earned a sprained ankle for his troubles.
When YOU have poison ivy breaking out all over your face and are in desperate need of a cortisone shot from the ER, is getting a haircut your first priority? I’m guessing not.
WORMS. A chunk of our wedding gift cards went to buying Ian his very own vermaculture composting system. Now sometimes I see him huddled in a corner, giggling to himself as he feeds his 500 red wrigglers tidbits of food.
Bonus Picture! One of Ian’s students drew this picture of him. Props to them for the spot on portrayal of his protruding ears.
The loss of Spotify was hard for this guy. That’s why you can see pure, unadulterated joy all over his face after a package from my grandparents revealed a portable radio.


And my favorite… one day during a heavy rainstorm, I wandered into our cistern house to check the status of our water tanks and stumbled upon this scene. Ian, happy as a clam, fully immersed in a filthy tank with a big scrub brush. Different strokes for different folks. Personally, I’m a little obsessed with how easily that lid could get screwed back on the tank with someone inside. How the heck would you ever get out?? One big rainstorm and you’d drown. You’ll never catch me alive or dead in that fool tank.

Would YOU go in that? Most sane people wouldn’t. But now we have crystal clear water tanks so I’m pretty stoked.


Look! Proof we actually got married. <3

Happy three months love! 😉

moving to the mountains

Movin’ to the Mountains

What could compel two young college grads to move to  an old homestead on a ridgetop in rural West Virginia?

A grittier lifestyle of outdoor living, a chance to redefine what success meant to us, the passion to live an authentic life, and an opportunity to answer the “what if” of saying yes to anything life can throw at you.



For years, long before even our marriage was a certainty, my boyfriend and I dreamed of the Big Laurel Learning Center. Ian’s connection began his first year of college during an intentional spring break service trip; two years later he took me along with him. 

Our passion for the place grew with the intensity of our relationship. We fell in love with the ramshackle buildings, the sprawling, forested mountaintops, and the quirky community of liberal Catholic Nuns that had called this place home for forty years.

Big Laurel took on a life of its own in our heads, the great pipe dream and “what if” question of our abilities. Having lived in cities for our whole lives, both of us yearned to move to the country, stretch out and pursue hobbies that existed only as dreams in our heads. We wanted livestock: a flock of chickens and a summer pig. I envisioned the overgrown garden lush with edible greenery. The woods inconspicuously growing ginseng and mushroom logs. We saw the place as the perfect destination to mesh our skills and passion, a place that we could both be of benefit to and benefit from. And by working through AmeriCorps, we could get paid to live there.

Things moved quickly, as the important things in life always seem to do. Within nine months of meeting for the first time our relationship turned serious: promises were shared and a wedding was planned.

Making the Move

Everything seemed so perfect — in concept. But actually packing every belonging into our midsize SUV and driving the nine hours to make this dream a reality catapulted our idealist optimism from the comfort of theoretic to the stark uncertainty of reality.

Still, the leap into the unknown was made. Newlyweds of two weeks, we crossed state borders, and moved into a living organism of a derelict mansion on top of a mountain with far more rooms than we could ever heat in the winter. This house depends on massive barrels of rainwater, and a passable wifi connection is only available for a few weeks of each month. Forget cell service; that’s only accessible at the bottom of the mountain.

And our closest neighbors and coworkers? They are two Catholic Sisters that are more frequently seen on quads than afoot.


Key Facts About Big Laurel and the JASMER Land Trust

– JASMER is an Appalachian land trust started by the visionary Edwina Pepper in the late 60’s in an attempt to stop the segmenting of land in the region and to help preserve its natural beauty. It now holds close to 500 acres.

– Edwina Pepper lived on the mountain ridge in a rambling, forever growing stone house with her grand nieces and nephews. They created a sustainable homestead and specialized in crafts like wood working, pottery, essays on mountain living, organic gardening and the promotion of Appalachian culture. A big contribution they made was publishing the Mountain Call, a journal that was published right in the home and distributed throughout the community. (Ian and I now reside in Edwina’s old home, the Knob House.)

– In the early 70’s, Edwina Pepper advertised in the Mountain Call for a few teachers to come and form a school on the mountain ridge in order to educate the local children that couldn’t make the hike everyday to the school below. This call was answered by two nuns, Sister Kathy O’Hagan and Sister Gretchen Shaffer. They formed the Big Laurel School, a one room school that was operational from 1976-1988.

– Now, the Sisters still live on the mountain and run Big Laurel, though the school has been converted into a retreat center that hosts groups year round for educational service opportunities that teach about Appalachian culture, environmental sustainability, and the effects of coal mining on the region.

– Ian and I have taken AmeriCorps positions at Big Laurel, which means for the next 11 months we will be living in and maintaining Edwina Pepper’s old home, working in the local schools as teacher aids or after school programmers, and doing whatever we can on the premises of Big Laurel to help farther its mission as an Appalachian, ecological learning center.

Our Roles as Caretakers of the Knob House

In essence, we have been granted access to the sandbox of our dreams. Scattered throughout the property are abandoned buildings crammed with goods left behind years ago. High quality garden tools may show up in one shed, while another reveals sewing machines, drill presses, and chicken feed dispensers. Fruit trees are being choked out by the encroaching forest, and the old chicken coop can just be seen through the heavy brush that has grown up around it. This place positively groans with the weight of its own history, and it’s in desperate need of some caretakers. And that is the job that Ian and I have enthusiastically taken on.

This blog is going to be a record of these adventures. As two city dwellers, can we actual adapt to such a rural lifestyle? Will Ian and be able to keep chickens alive in the winter? Will the garden’s heavy clay soil impede the growth of anything we plant? Will the loneliness and isolation caused by our useless cell phones make us go crazy? Will our idealistic dreams be proven naive and leave us disheartened and bitter by next summer? Right now there is no way of knowing, so the only way to go is forward, with as much passion and enthusiasm as we can muster. And I can hardly wait to get started.


Six Month Update:

So many good things have come out of our time at Big Laurel. Ian and I have spent countless hours working in our new community. We’ve made big improvements to our homestead, expanded our livestock collection to include laying hens, silkie chickens, guinea fowl and meat rabbits. A pig is in the works as Ian continues to build a pen out of pallets we collect on the side of the road. We’ve also been blessed to be a host for numerous college groups that have used Big Laurel as a service site, including Wheeling Jesuit University and Calvin College. Best of all, after much thought and prayer Ian has accepted the position of Director of Big Laurel for the next two years.

All this to say, our Appalachian homesteading adventure is only just beginning! Thank you for reading and please consider following along by subscribing to my newsletter!