Land, Ho!

This month will go down in my history as a major "FIRST".  I bought land!  I married into 40 acres that Weldon already owned; but these 30 acres we eyeballed, calculated, negotiated, and signed on the dotted line for together. This post is about land ownership -- an integral part of our homestead -- but it is just as much about a more subliminal subject: money.  In a day and age when this topic is politically hot and socially taboo, our culture is motivated by excess and plagued by financial illiteracy.  I'm no financial expert, but in the last five years I've taken my education into my own hands in a desperate search for balance, simplicity, and security.  So far, I'm living on the smallest paycheck yet, but with a greater sense of abundance and the most financial freedom I've ever had.  Had we not had enough of our greenbacks in a row, we never would have been able to scribble our signatures on a deed when the right moment fell in our lap.

Earlier this year Weldon and I reached a major milestone: we could finally say we were totally debt free.  Before then, our married life had been coupled with frugal living for two reasons.  First, our fledgling business just didn't give us a lot to work with in our personal accounts.  Second, we were committed to a simple lifestyle and wanted to test our limits.  How would we know what we could comfortably do without if we never tried to do it?  We were renting our housing, always paid off our credit cards each month, drove older used vehicles, and generally wore second-hand clothing.  Other than my small student loan and the mortgage on our shop building (and its 2 acres), we had no personal debt.

However, running a small business made it seem that being debt free would remain slightly outside our grasp.  The farm could cash flow, but it couldn't keep up with the exponential growth we experienced from one season to the next. After closing our business last year, we began the process of liquidating its assets.  Thankfully, we were able to get most of the money out that we had tied up.  With it, we paid what little I had left of my student loan and paid off our shop building mortgage (which last September had become our home).  The rest we set aside for savings to start building our dream house on our existing forty acres.  The near term plan was to continue saving so that when the time came to break ground on our salvaged material, unconventional cabin-y cottage house, we could do much of the work ourselves (with guidance from experts who actually know what they're doing) and get by with little or no house mortgage at all.   By New Year, the Debts side of our ledger finally read "0". And we went out for dinner to celebrate!

Then came a fateful day in late May...

We received a call that the 30 acres directly adjacent to our beloved future homestead was for sale.  If we wanted it, we needed to act in a few days or it would be put on the open market.  We could either purchase it now or it'd be developed in one way or another by somebody else.  Knowing this was likely a once-in-a-lifetime chance, Weldon and I immediately started number crunching. The open bits of pasture aren't arable, the timber isn't mature, and a very large metal barn added a significant jump in the asking price that we preferred not to take on.  On the other hand, the barn could be used immediately for storage, there is a good length of creek frontage and a small pond (biodiversity!), and it appeared to be a forager's Garden of Eden (wild strawberries, black raspberries, blackberries, milkweed, sumac, sugar maple, elderberries, wild carrot, and cattails to name a few).  Should we set aside our newly acquired debt-free status in favor of a mortgage on this property?  We were torn.

Ultimately, the numbers and our hearts dictated that if we felt strongly enough about making an acreage cushion for our homestead, we should pull the trigger on the deal.  After all, we could always sell it years down the road if we got in a tough spot.  We determined that the mortgage, though not ideal, would neither leverage us nor make a significant change in our intended lifestyle.  The land would add value to our homestead and we could continue our savings plan as expected.  However, we swallowed hard at the fact that a mortgage would likely be required to build our home.  Ultimately, the pros outweighed the cons, so we put the property under contract in less than a week.  Just over a month later, we were paying the chunky down payment out of our savings and solidifying our ownership.  This time we splurged on dinner and a big ice cream sundae to celebrate!

Buying this land wasn't an easy decision; but now that it's ours, I'm excited! I'm also grateful to have been in a position that we could even consider the option. I owe much of that to the timing in which we closed our business and most importantly, to our everyday decisions to live frugally.  Now, we have a bit more pasture to graze, a new barn to utilize (basketball court, anyone?), and a wider plot to incorporate into our homestead's holistic plan.

These days it seems no one can talk about money without being a braggart, a whiner, a spendthrift, or a miser.  Honestly, I wish the practicalities of money were discussed more openly in our communities.  Our culture no longer fosters a mentality of restraint or control; instead we're encouraged to riddle our lifetime with spending and/or debt.  What a shame!  Speaking from experience, I know it can be easier and often more comfortable to turn a blind eye to finances (on a global, local, and personal scale) or to strive indefinitely for more income assuming that more is better.  So many folks punch a clock, live paycheck to paycheck, and count the days until they can retire and "do what they really want to".  I've found that it's far more rewarding for me to be proactive, calculate my needs and wants, and have a plan for living comfortably, simply, and with security.  While I may not keep up with the Joneses, (near) debt-free living and the freedom to do what I want with my lifeblood without having to wait for "retirement" is monumentally liberating.  

Coming from someone who does not have a natural acumen for numbers and finances, my top seven bare bones financial philosophies are:
1.  Your job doesn't define you, but where you put your life energy does.  Take stock of the difference.
2.  Save a hefty portion of the money you make.
3.  Work for money (even if it's only for a limited time) so that you can ultimately make your money work for you.  Above all, value your time and get paid well for the quality of work you produce.
4.  Live below your means.  Don't base your spending on your income, base your spending on your minimum of needs/wants that keeps you satisfied in your lifestyle.  Then, see #2.
5.  Do your homework to analyze where your money goes so that you can be more intentional about spending and saving.  Remember, pennies make dollars and dollars should make sense.
6. Make your splurges count -- include enjoyment in your financial plan -- it's not about a life of deprivation.
7. Get the help you need through books and/or trustworthy mentors.  Books like The Millionaire Next Door by Thomas J. Stanley, Green With Envy by Shira Boss, and Your Money Or Your Life by Vicki Robin and Joe Dominguez have done wonders to put in words the thoughts that had been percolating for the both Weldon and I.  These three books encapsulate our philosophy.  I can strongly recommend them for anyone serious about getting a handle on their finances and freedom.