Rain on the Homestead

When It Rains for a Week on the Homestead

There’s a certain rhythm to homesteading that follows the seasons, but sometimes, that rhythm turns into a soggy shuffle. After nearly a full week of nonstop rain, the chickens are cranky, the garden is muddy, and the laundry? Let’s just say we’re embracing the smell of “earthy.”

Rain is a gift. It waters our crops, fills the barrels, and softens the soil for planting. But a whole week of it? That tests a homesteader’s patience and creativity.

Here’s what homesteading looks like when the skies just won’t clear:

🌧 Chickens in a Mood
Our poor hens stare out of the coop like grumpy old ladies waiting for the sun. Those that venture out are acting like what they are, wet hens. We toss in extra bedding and hang greens to keep them busy and to stop them from picking on each other out of boredom. 

🌧 Garden on Hold
The seedlings are thriving under cover, but we’ve had to pause transplanting. Everything’s too wet to dig, and one wrong step can compact the soil or drown a root. So we wait. We plan. And we dream about sunshine.

🌧 Muddy Boots Everywhere
There’s a constant parade of mud-caked boots at the back door. Towels are on standby. We mop more than usual, and I’ve lost count of how many socks have needed a second wash.

🌧 Rainy Day Tasks
When the outdoors are off-limits, we catch up indoors:

• Sewing new reusable towels and make-up removers
• Prepping labels for market
• Making laundry soap
• Inventorying pantry shelves
• Dreaming up new homestead goals
• Catching up on much-needed laundry

🌧Farmers Markets
Because of the rain, our opening day for our Farmers Market season got cancelled due to rain. So we prepped a lot of food as snacks for our boys. We'll count that as a trial run for next week. 

🌧 The Quiet Gifts
Somehow, the rain forces us to slow down. We light a candle. We read a little longer. We bake more bread. The house smells like cookies and laundry and wet dog, and there’s a strange comfort in that.

Homesteading in the rain is a test of flexibility, patience, and waterproof boots. But it’s also a reminder: this life doesn’t stop for the weather, it adapts to it.

So we lean in. We keep going. And when the sun finally returns, we’ll be more than ready, with seedlings in hand and dry socks on our feet.