Finding Our Dream Farm
The Journey to Home
“Hey guys, the listing agent texted me and said they accepted an offer on that house already. I told him to keep me updated if it falls through.” The text from our real estate agent came in while I was across the state at a work conference. We had delayed seeing this property until I would be home in a few days, but someone else snatched it up in the meantime. I was crushed. For about a year, my husband and I had been searching for our first home, and we were so close to giving up on the process entirely.
Ever since I started college, my life had become a revolving door of moving, settling, and uprooting again, and again, and again. With every academic degree, seasonal job, and internship I pursued over the course of my early adulthood, I was consistently packing my bags, driving across the country, and signing yet another short term lease. Once I met my husband, and we slowly started building our family unit one furry critter at a time, it brought me tons of comfort knowing that we would always always belong to each other. But I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in my soul that we didn’t belong to any place. I desperately wanted to put down roots, build community, and live life in communion with our own slice of earth.
Once we landed our first “real” jobs in western South Dakota, my nomadic lifestyle began melting away. From the moment I laid eyes on the Black Hills, a missing piece clicked into place. We felt such an affinity for the landscape, and we very quickly began talking about this move as our last one. We were finally home.
But finding our first house had become a tall order. The combination of rising interest rates and housing costs coupled with low inventory meant we were priced out of nearly all of the homes in our area that fit our wish list. We knew we wanted a few acres to keep horses at home, give our dogs space to run and explore, and enjoy outdoor living. But every time we looked at a newly listed property (which was few and far between), it never felt right for our family. On our most hilariously horrifying tour, we visited a mobile home on 5 acres which had a jacuzzi tub in the middle of fully carpeted bathroom, complete with chicken shit and feathers curtesy of their indoor flock. After that day, we had become so disillusioned by the home search process, that we discussed taking an indefinite hiatus.
That’s when a fixer-upper on just under 4 acres came on the market. The sellers didn’t post any pictures of the inside online, listing it “as-is”, which was a clear indication that it needed a ton of work. But we could afford it, it was an easy commute to work, and the property was a blank slate. As I mentioned, I was out of town at the time it was posted, and it went under contract immediately. So I was shocked to hear from our real estate agent a few days later: “The buyers decided to back out. It is going back live today.” When we stepped onto the property, I knew this was our home. The views of the Black Hills were unbelievable. The list of work to be done inside the home was lengthy, but we felt equipped to tackle it. And given my newly acquired knowledge of track systems, I felt confident we could develop a paradise for our horses. We put in an offer, and at lightning speed, we became first-time homeowners.
We have spent the last year building fences, shelters, and storage solutions. We’ve painted walls, replaced fixtures, and made repairs. The work has been grueling at times. But there has also been so much community, satisfaction, and peace along the way. You can often find me curled up in my favorite chair with a cup of hot tea and a warm dog in my lap, watching the wind rustle the prairie grasses, and bearing witness to the sun while it sinks down behind the Hills, brilliantly illuminating every inch of the sky. The list of things to do around here seems never ending, but we belong to this little plot of land, and so I don’t mind one bit.