Our homestead journal is not fancy. It is a composition book on a nail by the door.
Each evening we try for three lines: what the weather did, what we cooked, and one sentence about the pond. Some nights the sentence is only, “Still as glass.”
The children add drawings. I add grocery reminders I will ignore. Together it becomes a family map of ordinary days.
If you start one, keep it where you will trip over it. Journals that hide in drawers do not get written.
