Homesteading in the Suburbs

Homesteading in the Suburbs: How We’re Making It Work on Just 0.18 Acres

Maybe you’ve felt it too—that quiet nudge to live a little more simply, a little more self-sufficiently. You scroll through social media and see dreamy homestead gardens, sourdough loaves cooling on rustic counters, and the kind of peaceful rhythm that makes your heart ache just a bit. It feels like freedom. Like getting your first set of car keys. But then reality hits: you live in the suburbs. No acreage. No barn. Just an HOA and a quarter-acre lot.

Hi, friend. Me too.

In early 2020, I started to feel that pull in a big way. I longed to learn new skills and take ownership of the food we ate and the way we lived. But I also felt stuck—like I was walking on a treadmill, moving my feet but not actually getting anywhere. I prayed for a shift, and over time, something beautiful happened: I started to grow in our small space. I realized that learning and growing doesn’t require wide open fields. Sometimes, it just takes a little creativity and a willingness to start where you are.

Baking Bread Changed Everything

Baking bread was my gateway into all of this. It gave me a quiet confidence—proof that I could do something with my own two hands that served my family well. That one skill sparked the courage to start a garden, and yes, we now grow real food on just 0.18 acres. We’ve got three raised beds, a few porch pots, a tiny patch of grass for our two dogs, and a wooden playset for our kiddos. Every inch of our backyard works hard—and so do we.

Here’s What Homesteading Looks Like for Us:

We bake our own bread—sometimes for our table, sometimes to trade with friends.
We grow what we can, and what we don’t, we swap. We’ve traded loaves of sourdough for eggs, garden starts, and even books.
We support local by buying meat through a monthly subscription from a nearby farm. It feeds our family of five all month long.
We shop seasonal at our town’s farmer’s market and do our best to buy from small, American businesses whenever we can.
We’ve built community by sharing sourdough starters and fresh loaves with friends, neighbors, and our church family.

A Generational Legacy Starts Somewhere

One of the sweetest things we’ve started doing is writing down our family recipes. I wasn’t handed a well-worn cookbook from generations past, but I realized… maybe I get to be the one to start it. And that’s pretty special. New traditions often begin with simple things—like bread on the table or kids playing barefoot near tomato plants.

I’ve also learned this: You don’t need a milk cow to start homesteading. You don’t need acres of land. One of the easiest, most practical steps toward a more intentional life is learning how to bake bread.

My Sourdough Story

I started with the basics—quick bread recipes and commercial yeast. Once I found my groove, I ventured into sourdough. My first loaves were dense, flat, and barely edible—but I felt so proud. I had taken flour and water and turned it into something nourishing.

Eventually, I started a sourdough culture right in our suburban pantry. It took almost a month to get bubbly and active, but when that first good loaf came out of the oven, it was worth every bit of waiting. Now we’ve got a binder full of family-favorite recipes and sourdough go-tos. And it all started because I was willing to try.

If you’re in the suburbs and wondering if this slower, more self-sufficient life is possible for you—it is. Don’t wait for the perfect setup. Just start with what you’ve got. Bake a loaf of bread. Plant a seed. Write down a recipe. And watch what grows. 🌱

xo Courtney