Little House on the Plains

The Brown Shavers are Emily's "army", a breed known for their consistent egg-laying.

It looks like something lifted from the pages of Little House on the Prairie.

Or maybe, a scene from ‘The Good Life’. There are chickens scratching in the yard, tomatoes ripening in tunnel houses, herbs hanging to dry in the kitchen, and shelves lined with jars of preserved fruit, pasta sauce, and pickles. 

A rescue cat patrols the deck while dogs lounge in the sun, unconcerned by the hens wandering nearby.

But this is not the American frontier. It is suburban Oxford, North Canterbury, where Emily Chapman and her husband Bruce have quietly transformed an ordinary backyard into a thriving homestead.

At the centre of it all is the Chicken Palace, the “Bruce Original” coop that has become both a practical source of eggs, and the heart of their miniature ecosystem.

As the cost of living climbs and supermarket prices continue to bite, more New Zealanders are looking toward vegetable gardens, preserving, and backyard chickens as a way to ease pressure on household budgets. 

But for Emily, the journey into homesteading began from a desire to live differently, and a little more slowly.

Although the Chapman’s have turned to homesteading later in life, the dream for Emily was always to turn out “a little like Weezer”, from the 1989 film Steel Magnolias.

“She’s this grumpy old lady, with big unruly dogs, and she’s always carrying around bags of tomatoes from her garden. Years ago I remember thinking, ‘I want to be just like her.’”

Looking out at the flourishing backyard, the overflowing pantry shelves, and the beloved hens, it seems she may already be well on her way.

“It’s so much fun,” she said. “It never really started as a cost thing, I probably didn’t realise just how much I could grow.”

When the couple first bought their property, the back section was little more than an overgrown paddock. Now, it has been completely remodelled.

“Originally, we had a sheep and a goat that just ate the grass, and they came with the house,” Emily laughed. “They were our official lawnmowers, they lived till they were 14, and they were best friends.”

But a sheep and goat do not leave much room for a productive garden, and with a few planter boxes and windowsill herbs, Emily was a hobby gardener for many years.

But when Covid hit, Emily decided it was now or never.

“I told Bruce, we’re knuckling down. We’re really going to do this.’”

“I think after Covid, you realise how easily systems are broken,” Emily said. 

“Everything went to pieces with our supply chains, and I thought, actually, I would like to have our own fruit and veggies and eggs.”

When a dozen eggs sets you back $10, having fresh eggs waiting in the chicken coop saves both money and time.

It’s the eggs, or more accurately, the chickens, that are unquestionably Emily’s favourites.

And like any devoted owner, she insists they each have distinct personalities.

Some are named after the sisters from Little Women, Amy, Beth and Jo. Others are rescues, taken in after commercial laying operations had no use for them.

“They’re not pretty, some of them,” Emily said affectionately. “But we really love them.”

The dependable brown Shavers, she said, are the backbone of the egg supply.

“The fancy ones are just not as good layers,” she laughed. “The brown Shavers are really holding down the fort.”

Today, the Chapmans grow their own produce year-round, and with a supermarket on the doorstep, in summer they don’t buy groceries at all.

Even in the winter, Emily said, “we still don’t grocery shop very often, because we buy local. We buy from the local butcher, we buy from farmers’ markets, we buy flour in bulk. We don’t do traditional grocery shopping.”

“I’m sure supermarket workers look at my grocery order and think, ‘these people are going to get scurvy,’ because there’s never any fruit or veggies in there,” she laughed.

That’s because most of it is already growing outside. Even in winter, the garden continues producing brassicas, kale, and salad greens. 

Enough potatoes for the year are grown in beds during the warmer months, and Emily’s freezers are packed full of berries, grated courgette, and preserved produce from the summer glut.

The kitchen preserving operation has become increasingly ambitious over the past few years, and Emily points to rows of neatly stacked jars filled with tomatoes, fruit, sauces, and pie fillings.

“We try and grow enough tomatoes, and we do,” she said. “I do heaps of jars of tomatoes. Heaps of preserving. My freezers are always just on the edge of too-full, which is a wonderful problem to have.”

What began as making basic jams, and perfecting water-bath preserving for apples and peaches, has quickly evolved into a full canning operation; all run from the kitchen counter and supervised by Chunky the rescue cat.

Low-acid foods, like potatoes and meat, which don’t survive traditional water-bath preserving, can be stored for winter by pressure canning, which Emily was delighted to test for the very first time this year.

It’s keeping her busy, and the summer preserving season is “relentless!”

It's been years since Emily has added fruit or vegetables to the grocery list. Not when there's an orchard just outside the front door. (Photo Supplied.)

“February is my busiest month,” Emily said. “At the start of summer, you’re eating everything fresh because that’s what you miss over winter. Then suddenly you realise, actually, I need to start focusing on what we’re going to want later.”

The result is a pantry that functions like a miniature supermarket, except nearly everything inside was grown, preserved, or made by hand.

“We don’t buy pre-made sauces or anything like that,” she said. “I wouldn’t even buy a jar of pasta sauce anymore.”

Instead, Emily grows and dries her own herbs, blending them into homemade seasonings. Sometimes she even makes pasta from scratch.

“I love looking at things and thinking, ‘How can I recreate that?’”

There is a deep satisfaction, Emily said, in preparing a meal where nearly every ingredient originated in their own backyard.

“The best thing is if I cook a meal and think, ‘Everything except maybe the meat, I’ve grown or made myself.’ That’s so cool.”

Bruce, meanwhile, is the builder, the problem-solver, and the resident family MacGyver.

“He can build everything,” Emily said. “I say, ‘I want this,’ and he builds it.”

That includes the Chicken Palace itself, along with the bookshop that sits at the end of the garden.

The bookshop, called ‘Woodside Books’, nestled next to the chicken coop selling second-hand novels, is where Emily spends much of her week – editing the community newspaper, or hosting a book club. It’s her “sanctuary”, with a corner desk and a view of the garden. 

It was in the bookshop that Emily found her own Little House on the Prairie Cookbook, and although it lives in the kitchen, she has yet to try all the recipes.

“It did have blackbird pie in it,” she laughed. “We’re not committing to that yet.”

The homestead extends beyond vegetables and chickens. There are fruit trees, berry cages, compost systems, and even homemade cheese.

Emily and her so-called "tiny dinosaur", who is mostly interested in food and cuddles.

In true ‘Little House’ style, Emily is a big fan of trading with friends, swapping eggs for fresh milk, and making her own cheese. 

“Bruce even built me a cheese press,” she said proudly. “He loves a project.”

Rainwater collection systems now feed the garden during dry Canterbury summers. Kitchen scraps, grass clippings and leaves all go through the chicken yard, where they are turned into rich compost that nourishes the next season’s crops.

“It’s a little ecosystem in the backyard,” Emily said.

Importantly, she is committed to keeping it chemical-free.

“We don’t use any spray on the property,” she said. “I just don’t think we need to. We’re not a farm.”

That means accepting imperfections, the occasional white butterfly, or chewed leaf, but Emily sees that as part of the trade-off.

“You’re not producing for sale, so it doesn’t matter.”

Preserving is well underway! Relishes, jams, and even homemade pasta sauce.

While homesteading can appear intimidating online, all sprawling rural blocks and self-sufficient influencers, Emily told the Guardian, the Chapman homestead is still achievable in an ordinary suburban setting, and even small-scale gardening can make a difference to expenses.

“When we lived in Auckland we only had a courtyard,” she said. “I just had planter boxes with lettuce, tomatoes and herbs. But that was enough.”

“I just like knowing I’ve grown this food,” she said. “It’s not covered in sprays, and I know exactly where it’s come from.”

The financial benefits have become increasingly important, however, especially as food prices continue to rise.

“No one can afford waste anymore,” she said. “If I buy a chicken, then I make stock from the bones. There’s always something else you can do with it.”

Still, despite the labour involved, Emily said the lifestyle only works because she genuinely loves it.

“I don’t think I’d do this if I didn’t enjoy it. It would be a lot of work otherwise!”