From Chickens to Bees:
A Hobby Homesteader's Story
It started ten years ago when my husband and I moved to a little one-acre property with a plan that was, honestly, pretty vague: live a little more connected to the land. We had no idea what we were doing. We still don’t, most days but isn't that kind of the point of life.
I grew up sewing and crafting alongside my grandmother, and baking in the kitchen with my mom. Those hours spent with my hands busy planted something in me long before I ever thought about chickens or gardens. I just didn’t know it yet.
When we got to this property, we started small: a handful of chickens and a lot of enthusiasm. My husband built the coop (with more confidence than carpentry skill, if we’re being honest), and we figured out the rest as we went along, mostly by making mistakes and asking the internet a lot of questions at 11pm.
The chickens led to a garden. The garden led to canning, because it turns out vegetables multiply faster than you can eat them. And somewhere in there, we added beehives, because apparently once you start collecting hobbies on a homestead, you don’t really stop.
My husband has been in it with me every step — building, fixing, hauling, and occasionally reminding me that we do not, in fact, need six more chickens. (I usually get them anyway.) This has never been a solo project. It’s ours, it's messy, imperfect, and we're very much still figuring itself out.
Somewhere along the way, when corporate life was starting to bum me out a friend suggested making an Instagram account to document my million different hobbies. Let 's not forget even though we're hobby homesteading now, there's still a lot of sewing, ceramics, and whatever else I can get my hands on to be creative with happening too. When you grow up doing these things that creative drive never really leaves. And now somehow all that has turned into aprons, totes, and shirts that other people wanted too.
Every design in this shop is inspired by real homestead life, the eggs I’m gathering, the hens I’m mildly obsessed with, the garden I’m still learning to keep alive, the puns that make my husband groan (but laugh anyway). I design things I actually want to wear while doing chores, gift to friends who get it, or keep in my own kitchen.
This shop isn’t about pretending to be an expert homesteader, let's face it because I’m not, and I don’t think I ever will be. It’s about celebrating the process: the wins, the failures, the “why did I think six more chickens was a good idea” moments, and the quiet satisfaction of pulling something out of the ground you grew yourself.
If you’ve got a hen who’s basically running the show, a garden that’s more hope than plan, or a kitchen where flour ends up everywhere but the bowl, just know I made this for you. Thanks for being here, and for supporting a small shop that’s just trying to make people smile while getting a little dirt under their nails.
— Hill Farm
