Every once in a while I come across someone who describes me in the most peculiar way. There’s a great homesteading blog that says something like “the most organized homesteader I know.” Or, one that shocks me even more, “This woman can do it all!” Yeah. Not so much.

I’m a bit bothered by these statements actually. I try to be pretty honest on my blog – not just all shiny-happy all the time. I’m not joking when I call myself the LAZY homesteader. I’m really, really great at coming up with an idea, gathering all the materials, and not following it through to completion. Rick often plays clean-up to my projects.

I’m not sure if I’m more bothered by the fact that I’m somehow failing to communicate the realism of my life ( I have THREE kids that sometimes drive me to drink, people), or if it’s the imagined (implied?) pedestal that someone thinks I’m on that gets to me.

There are a lot of Judgey-Judgertons out there ready to tell you you’re not doing enough, you’re doing too much, you’re doing it wrong, or what you’re doing isn’t as important as what they’re doing. I’m so not that. I don’t ever want to communicate that.

I’m not sure exactly what the communication break down is, but I wanted to pause a moment to illustrate for you just how imperfect my life really is.

Please, come with me into the urban homestead confessional. Forgive me Followers, for I have sinned. It’s been 11 months since my last confession:

This year I planted beets that I failed to harvest until they were good for nothing besides pig food.

I’ve completely lost track of my Independence Days challenge this year. I still have an egg count going though.

I never made pickles this year. And I ignored the fact that my melons and cukes didn’t germinate, I didn’t replant them.

I decided to take on the Riot for Austerity. And then I didn’t.

Last summer, I over-bought peaches. I feel like I still have as many peaches in the freezer this year as I did last year.

This spring I used not-quite-finished compost in the garden and then grew lots and lots of weeds. I generously gave some of this same compost to the neighbor. I send H to pull weeds for him.

In 2011, I gave myself a 20 week organizing challenge: twenty weeks to organize twenty things. I stayed on track for 8 weeks, went all sporadic, took a five month break, did three more posts on it at the beginning of the year, and then completely blew the project off. I still have four items to go.

I collected too many chickens. I was like the crazy cat lady of chickens. We had 14 and they were all stressed and dirty and it stank. We butchered three and are holding steady at 11 right now. They are much happier and we’re loving the eggs. But really I need to find a home for 4 more of them; I’m putting it off because I’m all attached or something.

I bought a grow light to start seeds with. I sat it on the dryer and never opened it. After four months, I dusted it off and returned it to Lowes for store credit.

I drove two hours, round trip, to pick three boxes of tomatoes from my CSA. I let the husband wash them and then left them on the counter for 19 days until all but 22 were rotten. At that point, I divided the remainder between the chickens and the compost bin.

What are some things you had the best intentions for but didn’t pan out as planned? Have anything to confess?