I’m on the downhill slope of life — so to speak. Sixty-three and counting. Heading for retirement. Slowing down.

Really!? Well, no!! I am 63, but I get a burst of energy every time I contemplate retirement, or semi-retirement, in about three years. Right now, most of my time and creative energy are taken up here at work. I really like my job, but I’m most creative and energized in the morning, and mornings (and afternoons) I’m at my desk working on magazine articles and answering reader e-mail questions. Evening is my low-energy time when I might weed the garden or do a load of laundry, but I wouldn’t start a new family scrapbook or plan a holiday get together then. Those tasks wait for Saturday morning, or — retirement! I have a lifetime of ideas that haven’t seen the light of day, and I’m determined that those ideas will be brought to life during my retirement years.

But how does one start the projects that have languished on the back shelf, waiting to be remembered, waiting to be rediscovered, waiting to be given life? A few years ago, in the summer of 1992 to be exact, I took a class in Future Imaging as part of a Master’s in Community Leadership course at Regis University, Denver, Colo. We were to imagine where we would be in 10 years and draw a picture of what that future looked like. But how to get to the 10-year goal was the process we learned. Here is a summary of that process: Write down where you want to be in 10 years. Next establish where you need to be in 5 years to get to your 10-year goal; then do the same for two years and one year. Last, identify what step you should take today to start.

I was living in Phoenix when I did this future imaging. My goal for 10 years out was to live in a log cabin with pine trees in the background, a little creek in the front and a large grassy meadow. When the opportunity came to make the move, I knew what I wanted it to look like! Two years later, I was living in a log house, heated with firewood, watching horses prance in the 40-acre meadow. Of course, there is always an element of luck — the fact that this perfect place was for sale while I was property hunting was not under my control!!

But what does this have to do with retirement, you might be wondering? Everything! It is never too early or late to set your sights on a dream and plan how you will get there. Here are two examples, one from a 20-something, Vermont homesteader (scroll down to “before it all”) and the other about an 84-year-old woman who bicycles 150 miles to support multiple sclerosis research. They both are passionate about what they do and each had experiences that launched them into their current situations.

I think that is the trick to having a full life — at 24, 44 or 84 — to identify the passion, identify the steps necessary to be successful and then be ready to recognize the opportunity when it comes along or you create it; and be ready to act on it. Of course, not all dreams last a lifetime — I spent 5 years on the farm and then decided living on a dead-end dirt road, 40 miles from my job, was not where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. But I will always value the experiences I had, the skills I developed and the friends who supported my efforts while I was there.

Do I wish I had done this when I was 30 with my husband and two kids? Hmmmm … no! It was my dream to live in the “Little House in the Big Woods,” not theirs. Now, I’m making lists and planning for the future. Once I’ve prioritized the list, I’ll make a new 10-year plan. And what is my first step, today? Reminding myself that life isn’t over until it’s over!

We’ve said before that our magazine specializes in both the here-and-now and the later-and-wow. With no limitations, what would your ideal future homestead look like? What would you grow? What animals would grace your pastures? Close your eyes, plan it out, and tell us all about it. If you are lucky enough to be living your dream, go ahead and brag about it!  

Not that long ago, around this time of year, friends and family would gather in celebration of the harvest. There was a little hard work, but it was followed by lots of fun and fellowship.

I remember shucking ear after ear of corn with my aunts, as they prepared to freeze a particularly large bumper crop one year. All winter, as we enjoyed our "hard work corn" (as my mom would call it), we remembered the fun that went into preserving it. What are your favorite memories of the harvest? Do you still attend harvest parties today?

Photo by iStockphoto/Thomas Perkins

Ah, September. The Kansas State Fair is coming up soon, and I fondly remember my days as a 4-Her, (im)patiently waiting for the judges to tie their ribbons on my entries. Red? Blue? Purple? Champion? Grand Champion? Oh please, oh please. 

How did you fare at the county or state fair this year? Tell us about your projects. If you’re still awaiting yours, what do you plan to enter?

Photo by iStockphoto/Jan Tyler

Coming up in the October/November issue, contributing editor and DIY expert Steve Maxwell shares the many lessons he learned during his twenty years as a homesteader. Man, is there a lot of trial-and-error involved in the process of honing those skills! Veteran homesteaders: Please, please share your wisdom with those of us who are just getting started down the path to self-sufficiency — what are the most important lessons you learned along the way?

Photo by iStockphoto/Moira De La O

Homesteading in its broadest interpretation can entail being almost completely self-sufficient: growing, raising and crafting most of the daily necessities of life. A return, as it were, to the days of our pioneering ancestors who did it themselves or did without.

By contrast, an urban homesteader, which I consider myself to be these days, gleefully takes advantage of local foods, not feeling the necessity of growing or raising all their own veggies and fruit, or even eggs. In Topeka, during the months of July and August, fresh peaches can be found at most of the major produce stands at the Saturday local farmer’ market.

I hold up the line as I pick up and smell the fresh peaches in the little green cardboard boxes. If a warm, sweet, peachy aroma doesn’t reach my olfactory senses, I move on. I want the essence of a fresh peach to practically knock me to the ground. The fuzzy packages of flavorful goodness do not come to us cheaply — $4 for a box of five peaches. And it is imperative that you look at the one on the bottom of the carton as it may be an older, slightly bruised specimen, snuck into the deal. The peaches come from orchards in Missouri and Georgia. Missouri is just a stone’s throw from Topeka, so it seems reasonable to still call the Missouri peaches local. Kansas has not had the best weather recently for a predictable peach crop

I settle on the right box of perfectly ripe, fresh peaches, gently placing the treasure into my shopping bag and quickly head for home. I want to place each peach on the counter, not touching the others, to cut down as much as possible on the possibility of a tiny bruise exploding into a nasty blemish. The fun of making this summer dessert begins as I carefully peal the soft skin from the juicy flesh, the aroma tempting me to just pop half the peach into my mouth and be done with the agony of waiting for the perfect flavors to come. I slice the peach into a custard cup, one at a time, add a teaspoon of sugar, stir and wait about 15 minutes for the juices to develop. Then, just before eating, I drizzle a tablespoon of cream into the cup and stir gently.

Ahhh, peaches and cream. For me the most perfect of fruit flavors — cool, sweet, creamy and aromatic. By Sunday evening they are gone, and I must wait another week and hope they’re still available at the Saturday farmers market. Tomorrow is one of those Saturdays. I can almost taste the fresh peaches and cream right now.

Isn’t it just amazing how garden plants can grow in just one month? In June, I reported that my urban backyard garden had shoulder-height tomato plants – now they're eight feet tall and threatening to cascade down the side of their five-foot wire cages. Never have I had tomato plants this tall in July. I’m finally beginning to believe the topsoil I thought was just nasty clay is actually a super-soil! I did add some homemade fertilizer to the soil when I planted and a month later doused each plant with a fish-fertilizer mixture. Twice I added a thin layer of fresh grass clippings. So, I really don’t know which was most effective! But the bottom line is the garden is growing well and the veggies are rolling into the kitchen.

That over-sized red roasting pepper I told about in How Does the Garden Grow finally stopped growing at 10 inches and turned a lovely shade of red. Last weekend, I cut it into four long slices and roasted them over the grill. I was quite pleased with the results - a bit charred for that great roasted flavor but not over done. I shared a slice with my pepper-loving neighbor – he wants to grow them in his garden next year.

We experienced some 100 degree Fahrenheit weather in June that kept the tomatoes from setting fruit. So there is a space of about two feet on each plant where there are no tomatoes. But the early set fruit is ripening and we have enjoyed a lovely Cherokee purple tomato, my very favorite, sweet-not-acidic heirloom tomato. Now, the top of the tall hybrid tomato plants and the shorter heirloom ones are filling out nicely with fruit that should be ripe in a few weeks. It's so hard to wait to eat warm tomatoes, straight from the patch.

Our local farmers’ market has had some wonderful new potatoes. Oh – their taste can’t be compared to grocery store russets. My potato plants have grown well, but I don’t know yet what's hiding under the straw mulch. Usually I dig into the soil to clip off a few new potatoes that are close to the surface. But I’ve decided to wait to dig this year until the plants die down, allowing the potatoes to grow as big as they can. The new house has a basement and I’m hoping the spuds will keep well down there.

On the south side of the house, next to the driveway, I planted lavender, thyme, sage, tarragon and oregano. The oregano gave up the ghost in just a few weeks, but the rest of the herbs have done exceptionally well. I planted three varieties of lavender and the Goodwin Creek variety (Lavendula heterophylla) is just gorgeous! It has deep cut, silvery leaves. I plan to buy more, if this plant makes it through the winter and comes out OK next spring.

There are just so many veggies, fruits, herbs and flowers to tempt a gardener. It's hard to know when to stop planting and just enjoy the spectacle.

Photo by Heidi Hunt