Welcome to my new front yard.

If I was going for Dust Bowl vibes, I’d be nailing it.

It’s dusty. It’s sandy. It’s barren. And when the wind blows (which it always does), half the dirt ends up inside my house.

But I’ve got a plan, and it involves a mountain of cardboard and wood chips.

I’ve gardened for nearly two decades, and while I’ve been aware of (and intrigued by) sheet mulching for years, I’ve never actually tried it myself.

Until now.

And I’m stupidly excited about it. 

An important caveat: I’m experimenting as I go. This isn’t a story backed by years of sheet-mulching expertise or glorious before-and-after photos. (Because everything in my life is the “before” right now…)

But as I’ve done for the past 16 years on this platform, I’m bringing you along for the ride. Foibles, potential mistakes, and all.

First, Why Is My Yard So Terrible?

When I moved to this homestead earlier this year, I knew the yard needed some love. The previous homeowner had tried to establish grass. He’d even brought in old manure and corral cleanings from a neighboring ranch to improve the soil, but nothing took.

I knew something was seriously wrong within weeks of moving in. I tried planting a handful of perennials, thinking I could at least get a head start on my landscaping plans, but nothing grew. The plants either barely clung to life or flat-out died.

I was already suspicious of persistent herbicide contamination in my new garden beds, but a soil test revealed a different problem in the native soil around the house:

Almost zero available nitrogen. Like, nada.

Yes, even though the top layer was old manure.

I was baffled. Shouldn’t all that manure have made the soil better?

As it turns out, it’s not that simple.

I recently had Dr. Caitlin Youngquist, a Wyoming-based soil scientist, on my podcast AND out to the homestead to help me make sense of my gardening struggles (listen to the podcast episode here).

And one of the biggest revelations from our conversation was just how different this soil is from the heavy clay I spent years working with at my previous homestead.

This ground is much sandier. And while sand has its advantages, it doesn’t hang onto nutrients or moisture the way clay does.

Nitrogen, especially in its nitrate form, can wash through sandy soil relatively quickly. So even though the previous homeowner added organic materials, that doesn’t guarantee the soil has the nutrients plants need right now.

Plus, not all manure and compost are created equal. Their nutrient content varies depending on the original materials, and old manure can lose much of its available nitrogen over time.

Of course, low available nitrogen isn’t necessarily the only reason nothing is growing. We’re also in a drought, and there may be other soil issues at play.

Regardless, something had to change.

Also, I Hate Lawns

Maybe hate is a strong word, but I’ve never understood the obsession with spending an enormous amount of time, money, and water to grow a perfectly uniform carpet of grass… Especially in a place like Wyoming.

You have to irrigate it. Fertilize it. Mow it. Edge it. Fight the weeds. And then you do it all over again next week.

Ain’t nobody (aka me) got time for that.

While I might try a little patch of buffalo grass near my patio for the kids to play in, I refuse to maintain acres of decorative lawn simply because that’s what a yard is “supposed” to look like.

I’ve actually wanted to experiment more extensively with native landscaping for years, and it’s finally my time. I dabbled with a few native and regionally adapted plants at my old homestead like buffaloberry, currants, echinacea, and honeysuckle. They were a pleasure to grow.

After years of begging things to grow on this harsh prairie when they clearly don’t want to be here, I’m taking a different approach. And a traditional lawn isn’t part of the plan.

I’m picturing a loose, slightly wild collection of native shrubs, hardy perennials, flowers, and mulch-covered pathways.

Kinda feral and kinda untamed. Like me.

The only problem with my grand landscaping vision is that even plants that want to grow here need a decent place to get established… And my current Dust Bowl situation ain’t it.

Enter Sheet Mulching

When Dr. Caitlin visited, we walked around the front yard and talked about ways to improve the soil without bringing in heavy equipment or spending a fortune.

Her suggestion? Sheet mulching.

You might have also heard it called lasagna gardening, but sheet mulching is just a method of layering organic materials over existing ground instead of tilling or digging everything up. You can use it to convert lawns into gardens, suppress weeds, and improve the conditions of the soil underneath.

The basic idea of sheet mulching is simple:

You place overlapping layers of biodegradable materials on the ground, cover them with mulch, and allow the materials to gradually decompose.

Over time, these materials can contribute organic matter, help conserve moisture, protect the soil surface, and create a better environment for soil life.

And it’s preventing me from having to till up my entire yard and have it blow away, which is a huge bonus for me…

There are a million ways to sheet mulch, but for my project, I’m using the three basic layers Caitlin suggested:

1. Compost or manure
2. Cardboard
3. Wood chips

I’m not saying sheet mulching is a guaranteed solution for every soil problem, but it feels like a reasonable experiment for my barren yard. 

Plus… I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE!

How I’m Sheet Mulching My Yard

Since I’m working with a fairly large area and my budget is tight right now, my goal is to use as many free materials as possible. I’m also tackling this in sections rather than trying to complete the entire yard in one massive weekend, because I don’t have a lot of weekend time at the moment, either.

Here’s what I’m doing:

Layer 1: Compost or Manure

Usually, you start a sheet-mulching project by mowing down the lawn or weeds in the area you want to cover. But I have the special privilege of working with soil so barren that I don’t even have to mow or knock down the weeds first.

Lucky, lucky me.

Compost would normally be my first choice for the bottom layer. I found a local supplier with reasonably priced bulk compost, and that may still be part of the plan. But purchasing enough to cover the entire area adds up quickly.

Thankfully, I  have horses, which means I have a never-ending supply of manure. So I’m using some of my horse manure as the bottom layer.

I know there are different schools of thought on this, but I’m comfortable experimenting with it here since I’m starting in the fall, and the area will sit through winter before I begin planting in the spring. That gives the manure some time to break down, although I’m well aware that our cold, dry winter isn’t going to magically turn fresh manure into finished compost.

I’m also using this in an ornamental landscape rather than a more sensitive vegetable garden, which gives me a little wiggle room.

There are a couple of important caveats, though.

First, manure can contain significant amounts of salts and phosphorus, which I definitely don’t need to add willy-nilly to soil that’s already a little high in phosphorus and potassium.

Second, I’ve had enough experience with persistent herbicides to know that you should never assume manure is uncontaminated just because it looks perfectly normal.

I believe my manure is relatively low-risk based on its source, but I still need to be cautious. Time alone doesn’t necessarily eliminate persistent herbicide residues, and ornamental plants can be sensitive to them, too. (Although generally not as sensitive as vegetables like tomatoes or beans.)

I’m treating the manure as an inexpensive source of organic matter, not a miracle fertilizer. And I’m keeping the application light rather than piling it on across the entire yard.

Layer 2: Cardboard

Thanks to the Soda Fountain, I have access to a steady supply of cardboard boxes. Repurposed trash for the win! 

I’m saving plain cardboard, removing packing tape and plastic labels, and laying it across the ground with overlapping edges.

The idea is to block sunlight from reaching existing weeds and prevent many new weeds from getting established.

I’m using a single overlapping layer rather than stacking the cardboard too thickly and wetting it thoroughly as I go to help it settle against the ground and encourage decomposition.

In a dry climate like mine, I’ll need to pay attention to whether water is actually reaching the soil underneath, especially once I start planting.

Layer 3: Wood Chips

Finally, I’m topping the whole thing with a generous layer of wood chips, roughly 5-6 inches deep.

I’ve been collecting chips from a local tree guy and may supplement with more from our local compost facility to keep costs down as much as possible.

The wood chips will help protect the soil surface, reduce evaporation, and slowly contribute organic matter as they decompose. (They’re also much prettier than bare cardboard.)

And yes, I know what you’re thinking: Won’t they blow away?

I’ve thought of that, but wood chips are relatively heavy compared to lighter materials like straw, especially once they’ve settled.

And in the past, I’ve been able to use similar mulches with minimal blow-away. I’m hoping the weight of the chips and the fact that they’re sitting directly on the ground will help them stay put.

Of course, this is Wyoming, so we shall see. 

Also, this is important: I’m leaving the wood chips on top of the soil, not mixing them into it. Mixing a bunch of high-carbon material into my already nitrogen-deficient soil could temporarily make the nitrogen situation even worse as microbes use available nitrogen to break down the wood. I’ve written more about my experiences with different mulches in The Best Mulch for Your Vegetable Garden.

And while wood chips aren’t my first choice for a vegetable garden (yes, I’m familiar with the Back to Eden method, I just don’t think it’d work for me in my climate), I love them for landscape beds and pathways.

What Happens After Winter?

My plan is to let everything sit through fall, winter, and early spring.  I don’t expect the cardboard to completely vanish or the wood chips to transform into rich compost by spring, especially considering our cold temperatures and limited moisture.

But I’m hoping the layers will begin protecting the soil and creating a better foundation for next year’s planting.

When spring arrives, I’ll start adding shrubs and perennials gradually. I want to be intentional about choosing species adapted to our climate, rather than buying anything pretty that happens to catch my eye at the nursery.

I’ll pull back the mulch, cut openings in the cardboard, and plant into the soil beneath. I’ve also been intrigued by Caitlin’s suggestion of using sheep’s wool as a soil amendment.

Apparently, wool can slowly release nitrogen and help retain moisture. And considering the sandy soil I’m working with, both of those benefits sound pretty appealing. I plan to experiment with wool and compost around some of my new plantings, depending on what each plant needs.

But I’m also trying to remember another lesson from Caitlin’s visit: More amendments aren’t automatically better.

Thankfully, some native plants actually prefer relatively lean soil.

I don’t want to create little pockets of artificial fertility that encourage plants to stay within their cozy planting holes. I want them to establish healthy root systems in the surrounding soil. And even the toughest native plants will need some help with watering while they get established.

My goal isn’t to create a landscape that never needs attention. It’s to create one that doesn’t need constant intervention just to stay alive.

Is Sheet Mulching Worth It?

I have no idea yet… Ask me again next summer. Or maybe the one after that.

But here’s what I like about this experiment so far:

• It doesn’t require expensive equipment.
• It doesn’t involve tearing up my entire yard.
• It makes use of free materials I already have access to.
• And it gives me a way to start improving the landscape now, even though I won’t be planting most of it until spring.

Rebuilding soil at this new property is going to require a much different approach than what worked at our previous homestead.

For years, I was focused on loosening and improving heavy clay, which was annoying to work with, but actually did a pretty good job of holding onto nutrients. Now I’m working with sand, low available nitrogen, and a landscape that struggles to hold moisture.

Different soil. Different challenges. Different solutions.

I’m under no illusion that a few layers of cardboard and wood chips will magically transform this Dust Bowl into paradise, but it’s a start.

And if nothing else, I’d much rather spend my time planting hardy shrubs and perennials than watering, mowing, and fussing over grass I never wanted in the first place.

I’ll keep documenting the experiment as I go, including what works, what doesn’t, and what I’d do differently. You know me—I’m sure to have some epic mistakes along the way…

I’ve come to accept that.

But if all goes well, maybe next year I’ll finally have a front yard that stays in the front yard.

More Details on My Current Garden and Yard Woes:

• The Worst Garden of My Entire Life
• Can I Save My Horrible Garden Soil? My Conversation with a Soil Scientist
• Starting Seeds & Starting Over
• Data Centers & Dead Soil: What Are We Willing to Sacrifice for Progress? 

The post How I’m Sheet Mulching My Dust Bowl Yard (On a Budget) appeared first on The Prairie Homestead.

Today, after two years of writing, testing, revising, photographing, editing, second-guessing, and wondering if this thing in my brain would ever be “real”…

…the Old-Fashioned on Purpose Cookbook is officially out in the world.

And in very on-brand fashion, I’m not on a glamorous book tour today.

Rather, I’m doctoring a horse, running to grab wood so I can finish my bedroom makeover, ordering a (literal) dump-truck load of compost, and managing 39 other normal-life things.

Real life, baby.

But that feels right for this book, because I didn’t write it to be a precious cookbook for a pristine kitchen.

It’s for actual life. Busy days. Hungry people. Messy counters. Full schedules. (All of which are part of my day today and every day.)

Maybe that’s why seeing it show up in your real kitchens feels especially satisfying. After spending so long making something mostly behind the scenes, seeing it become part of someone else’s home is a pretty surreal feeling.

So today is mostly just one giant THANK YOU.

To Lindsay Linton Buk, who photographed both this cookbook and my first one. It’s magic when she and I work together, and she brought my vision to life in a spectacular way.

To everyone behind the scenes who helped me test, edit, photograph, design, organize, troubleshoot, and bring this project over the finish line, especially during a year that looked very different than I expected it to. You know who you are. 

And of course, thank YOU for buying my books, cooking my recipes, sending me photos of your stained pages, and giving my work a place in your homes.

I hope you use this one hard.

I hope you spill on it, write in it, dog-ear it, and make the recipes so many times you stop needing the instructions.

I do have one big ask today, though:

If you’ve been meaning to get a copy, would you grab it today?

Launch week is one of those rare moments when a bunch of individual orders add up to real momentum for a book, and I would love to send this cookbook into the world with a strong first week behind it.

The Old-Fashioned on Purpose Cookbook is available everywhere books are sold—your local bookstore, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Bookshop.org, and beyond.

And don’t forget!

The Heritage Cooking Crash Course bonus ends TONIGHT at 11:59 PM Mountain Time.

So if you order today, you can still get the full $147 course free with your book.

How it works:

1. Order the cookbook from your favorite retailer or local bookstore.
2. Upload your proof of purchase.
3. We’ll email you access to the course within 24 hours.

I’ll send one final reminder later today so nobody who meant to grab it accidentally misses the deadline.

But for now…

It’s really, finally, actually pub day!!

And I’m very, very glad this book is finally yours. 

-Jill

The post Well, We Made It appeared first on The Prairie Homestead.

When I wrote The Prairie Homestead Cookbook in 2017–2018, I was in a very different season of life.

Same core person, yes. But a different kitchen. Different rhythms. Different ages of kids. And a different version of homesteading.

Needless to say, I’ve changed a lot since then, even beyond the few more wrinkles and grey hairs…

But I think that’s what’s supposed to happen when you actually live with your ideas for a while. You get less precious. More practical. And hopefully a little wiser about what’s actually worth your time.

And I see that evolution all over my new cookbook.

For example:

I’m much less fussy about sourdough.

I still love it. But I no longer think sourdough needs to take over your calendar—or your personality. So the sourdough recipes in my new book are very normal-life-friendly, with lots of practical ways to use discard too.

I’m more selective about what I preserve.

These days I care a lot less about shelves full of novelty jars and a lot more about foods that make future meals easier. Things like the tomato sauce, refried beans, and hummus you’ll find in this book.

I cook much more by frameworks now.

It’s that comfortable rhythm you earn after enough years in the kitchen—where you stop needing exact instructions for every meal and start cooking more by feel.

I love that. It’s my version of the elusive “flow state.” So this book includes things like Supper on a Sheet, Flexible Empanadas, a go-to vinaigrette formula, and Garden Stir-Fry.

I bought a restaurant.

Which was NOT on my bingo card when I wrote cookbook #1…

But running the soda fountain has stretched my culinary skills more than almost anything else I’ve done. It’s been a crash course in flavor, timing, volume, sauces, texture, and figuring out what people actually love to eat. And I’ve included quite a few of those hard-won recipes in this book too. (Yes, even our famous milkshake recipe!)

My life got busier.

There are more moving pieces, businesses, sports, and logistics now than there were when I wrote the first cookbook.

Which means I have become extremely intolerant of recipes that require unnecessary fuss. That reality shaped this book in a big way. I made a point to include recipes that still feel special and nourishing, but are streamlined enough for a normal weeknight.

I stopped confusing “harder” with “better.”

I still believe in doing things from scratch, but now I care much more about whether something actually adds value to my life.

Aka, any desire for performance is DEAD.

If homemade tastes better? Great.

If it saves money? Great.

If it teaches me a useful skill, helps me use what I already have, or makes me more capable? Even better.

But if doing something the hard way just makes me tired? No thank you.

That philosophy is all over this cookbook too. It’s still very much from-scratch—just with a much sharper filter for what is actually worth your time.

And of course…

I’m launching this cookbook from a completely different house.

A different kitchen. A different garden. A different chapter of life.

So yes, a lot has changed since book #1.

But the deeper stuff hasn’t.

I still love feeding my people.

I still believe there is something urgently important about knowing how to turn basic ingredients into real food.

I still want dirt under my fingernails, meals around a table, useful skills in my repertoire, and a life that stays connected to the seasons and the soil.

And in a world that gets more abstract and robotic by the day, I still believe those things keep us human.

Actually, I believe that even more strongly now.

Basically, this new cookbook feels like the best parts of everything I’ve learned over the years—just with more mileage behind them.

And that’s why I’m so proud of it.

The Old-Fashioned on Purpose Cookbook launches tomorrow.

And if you order by 11:59 PM Mountain Time on October 6—aka TOMORROW NIGHT—I’ll also give you my full $147 Heritage Cooking Crash Course FREE.

How it works:

1. Order the cookbook from your favorite retailer or local bookstore.
2. Upload your proof of purchase here.
3. We’ll email you access to the course within 24 hours.

-Jill

P.S. Already preordered? Simple submit your proof of purchase above and you get it too. Keep an eye on your inbox for the link. And if you just submitted your proof of purchase, my team is working through the requests and granting access manually—so thank you for being patient with us!

The post You’re Allowed to Change Your Mind About Homesteading appeared first on The Prairie Homestead.

When my first cookbook came out, I wrote in the introduction that I wanted people to ruin it.

I wished for flour in their bindings. Dog-eared pages splattered with gravy. Scribbles in the margins. Bent corners. A cracked spine from being opened to the same recipe 75 times.

My biggest fear was writing a beautiful cookbook that lived untouched on a shelf.

Thankfully, my fear never came true.

Over the years, readers have sent me photos of their very well-loved copies of The Prairie Homestead Cookbook, and they are genuinely my favorite reviews.

Although these are pretty great too:

“This lives on my counter in my kitchen now.”

“I read it from cover to cover before I even cooked from it!”

“My kids/husband LOVE recipe XYZ and I make it every week.”

“I borrowed it from the library twice before deciding to buy my own copy.”

And one reader told me she was only halfway through and had already nearly run out of Post-it flags marking recipes she wanted to try.

THAT was my goal.

I don’t care to produce pretty coffee-table books… My aim is to create something that becomes part of the rhythm of your home.

As I wrote The Old-Fashioned on Purpose Cookbook, that remained my goal.

Actually, maybe even more so. Because I have a few more years of cooking, feeding people, running businesses, raising kids, and figuring out what actually IS useful under my belt now. And I think that makes cookbook number two even better.

And yes, I hope you ruin my new cookbook, too.

I hope the Essential Everyday Dough page gets dusted with flour.

I hope the One-Pot Beef Stroganoff page gets stained with sauce.

I hope you scribble all your substitutions for Supper on a Sheet in the margins.

I hope the binding eventually falls open automatically to your family’s favorite recipe.

Because that means it did its job.

And if you want to put your own copy to work, launch week is a extra good time to grab one:

Order by 11:59 PM Mountain Time on October 6 and I’ll also give you my full $147 Heritage Cooking Crash Course FREE.

How it works:

1. Order The Old-Fashioned on Purpose Cookbook from your favorite retailer or local bookstore.
2. Upload your proof of purchase here.
3. We’ll email you access to the course within 24 hours.

(And yes! If you already preordered it months or weeks ago, you can still get the bonuses! Simply upload your proof of purchase via the link above.)

Here’s to stained pages and broken-in bindings. 

-Jill

P.S. The only catch is that once the clock hits 11:59 PM MT on October 6, this bonus is gone… Because giving away one of my most robust courses forever would be a questionable business strategy…

But I believe in this cookbook enough that I wanted to make launch week irresistible for you. If you’ve been thinking about getting the cookbook anyway, this is the week.

The post I Hope You Ruin This Book appeared first on The Prairie Homestead.