I had the idea.


I had the design.


I truly believed it could work.

A small, self-sufficient farm on less than 500 m² — carefully planned, efficient, and beautiful.

But there was one problem.

I couldn’t build it.

The First Obstacle

The biggest challenge turned out to be something very simple: land.

The design I imagined needed a flat, well-positioned piece of land.
Something rare… and expensive.
Much more expensive than I expected.

The more I searched, the more I realized that finding the "perfect" piece of land might take years.

And at some point, I had to make a decision:

Wait — and maybe never start.


or


Start — even if it’s not perfect.

The Land I Chose

In the end, I chose to begin.
But not on the land I imagined.

Instead, I bought a small plot of 788 m² (about 8,500 sq ft).

It wasn't flat. 

It wasn't perfectly positioned. 

And it certainly wasn't the land I had originally designed for.

But it was affordable. 

It was available. 

And most importantly, it gave me a chance to begin.

A Place I Didn't Expect

The land came with challenges, but it also came with something I hadn't planned for.

To the east, the view opens toward the lake, where the sunrise lights up the landscape each morning.

To the south lies a forest, providing shade, shelter, and a constant connection to nature.

To the north, there is an open meadow belonging to a neighbor.

And to the west runs a quiet country road.

It wasn't the perfect plot I had imagined on paper. But standing there, looking toward the lake and listening to the forest behind me, I realized perfection might not matter as much as I thought.

And Then… Reality

Things didn’t go as planned.

I bought the land at the end of summer, thinking I still had time to begin.

But the paperwork stretched into autumn, and by the time everything was finally in place, the weather had already turned.

Rain came.


The ground grew heavy.


Progress slowed down more than I expected.

Still, we managed to take the first real steps.

The area around the old beekeeping hut needed to be cleared and leveled before anything else could happen. On a sloping piece of land, even creating a small usable space takes more work than it seems.

The soil turned out to be heavy clay — dense, wet, and difficult to work with. What looked like a simple job quickly became much more challenging than expected.

In the end, a nearby neighbor stepped in and helped us with machinery. Without that help, we might not have started at all.

Right now, there isn't much to see.

No finished structures.

No productive garden.

No carefully designed system.

Just a small beekeeping hut, a newly leveled area, and the first signs that something is beginning to take shape.

Not the thriving farm I imagined.

Not the complete vision.

Just... a beginning.

What I Learned

Looking back, I realize that the biggest challenge wasn't the slope, the clay soil, or the delays.

It was letting go of the idea that everything had to follow the original plan.

The farm I designed on paper was efficient, organized, and carefully thought out. But real life rarely unfolds that way. Land availability, budgets, weather, paperwork, and unexpected obstacles all have a way of changing even the best plans.

For a while, it felt as though I was moving further away from my vision. But over time, I began to see things differently. This project may not look exactly as I imagined, yet it is teaching me something far more valuable than any perfect design ever could.

Progress doesn't begin when conditions are ideal. It begins when you decide to start with what you have.

What Comes Next

The farm I dreamed about will probably continue to evolve. Some ideas will stay, others will change, and many new ones will appear along the way.

But this is the land I chose, and this is the place where the journey is finally beginning.

In the next post, I'll share more about the tiny farm I'm actually building — the design that grew out of real land, real limitations, and a completely different way of thinking.