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We Bought an Abandoned Farm in Norway — and Spring Is Already Asking for Everything | S1 EP1


There’s a specific kind of tired you get when life becomes too predictable.

Not “busy tired.” Not “I need a vacation tired.”More like… my body isn’t built for this tired.

That’s what pushed us to do something that still sounds slightly insane on paper.

Back in 2023, Thea and I bought a small, abandoned farm in the middle of Norway — not because we wanted to escape society, but because we wanted to stop treating nature like a weekend activity.


We wanted a life of less dependence… where nature isn’t something you travel to, but something you live inside.

If you want to see what that actually looks like in real life — Episode 1 is here:





What this episode is about

This first episode is the beginning of our farm restoration season — the part where spring shows up and suddenly everything becomes urgent.

In the video you’ll see:

  • the three main goals we set for the season

  • the real reason we’re building a fence (it’s not for looks)

  • the slow reality of rebuilding a farm without unlimited money

  • our search for an off-grid cabin site in the mountains

  • and the traditional skigard fence process (charring + linseed oil + building)

If you enjoy calm, cinematic storytelling with real work behind it — this episode is for you.



The abandoned farm in Norway is waking up (and so are we)

So far we’ve managed to do more than we expected in the first year:

A greenhouse. A pond. Growing beds. Drainage around the house. And the first steps of barn renovations.

But when we looked at the project list for this year… it didn’t look any less busy than the years before.

So we tried something new.


We narrowed the focus down to three main goals — because if we don’t decide what matters most, the farm will decide for us:


  1. Build a traditional Scandinavian farm fence (skigard)

  2. Fully renovate the pig barn for future chickens

  3. Plant at least the first 30 fruit trees


Neat list. Clean plan.

And then reality shows up with the side quests.

Because on a farm, “unexpected” is basically the default setting.



Funding a farm in Norway (the part nobody romanticizes)

This is the part you don’t really see in the highlights.

In 2024, we got some support through Innovation Norway to build a company around courses in foraging and self-sufficiency. We also organized mountain camps in the summer.


This year shifted toward helping build a local tourism board — internal organization, setting up travel packages — and we also received support for digging the pond and planting a hedgerow to increase biodiversity on the farm.


Together with:

  • some stock footage income

  • some YouTube income

  • and guiding cruise tourists up mountains in the summer

… it somehow keeps the projects moving.


But it’s still a struggle.

Materials are expensive. Everything moves slow. And securing funding is, without competition, the most time-consuming part — paperwork, reports, planning documents, explaining your life in spreadsheets.

Without that support though, I simply wouldn’t be able to spend the hours needed to make progress here.

This episode shows that contrast pretty clearly: the peaceful shots… and the very real tension behind them.


Why we’re fencing the farm (and not just for looks)

We’ve been thinking about getting a second Arctic dog.

Those dogs have a hunting drive that doesn’t care about your plans. If a deer crosses the field — they chase.

So if we want them off-leash on our own land, the only way is to have it fully fenced in.

But there’s another reason too:

Moose.

We’ve already had moose damage our fruit trees. And if we’re serious about planting an orchard here, the fence is meant to do both:

keep the dogs inand keep the moose out

Before I could really start fencing, it was also the last chance to stock up on firewood — because farm life is basically:

Moving heavy things from one place to another.



The real work is always heavy

If you don’t have a tractor, you use a wheelbarrow.

And when that doesn’t work… you carry things.

Logs. Odd objects. Uncomfortable weight. No handles. No mercy.

When you’re living like this long-term, strength isn’t a hobby — it’s injury prevention. If your body breaks, everything stops.

That’s why I care so much about training. Not to look good, but to keep going.

(That whole sequence is in the episode — and it’s exactly as dumb and exhausting as it sounds.)



A cabin site we’ve searched for forever

We’ve also been searching for a spot to build a small off-grid cabin.

It turned out to be surprisingly difficult to find a place with:

  • untouched surroundings

  • a lake large enough to actually matter as a food source

  • enough timber

  • adventurous terrain

  • and still a realistic chance of getting building permission


But the area we visited might be just perfect — especially because it’s near friends and good people.

The potential plot is a 5.5 km walk across the mountains from the nearest road, at 240 meters elevation.

We stayed the night out there.

And even with the wind and weather being questionable… the site had that feeling you can’t really explain until you’ve searched for years:

flat terraingood sun hoursopen in both directionsa clean transition down to the water

In the episode, you’ll see the place and immediately understand why it’s been stuck in my head since.



Building a skigard (and why I still choose the slow way)

A skigard is not the most efficient fence.

Anyone who wants efficiency uses wire and posts and is done in a day.

But I like what the skigard represents: removing chemicals over time, building with materials that belong here, and leaving behind something that will eventually return to the ground.

All fence posts need charring and linseed oil before going into our soil — and our soil is wet. The farm is called Mudon, basically “the swamp farm,” and it lives up to the name.

So the process becomes a ritual:

  • char the wood in heat for 30–60 seconds

  • oil it

  • build


When the day comes to replace it, it’ll be nothing but wire, a few screws, and compostable material.

And honestly… it looks right.



The trade-off: making money vs worrying about money

Up to this day, at 30, I’ve never had a full-time job.

Spending time outside and giving these animals the best life possible has always mattered more than a stable paycheck.

But the financial insecurity that comes with it… does suck.

Old buildings. Old cars. Constant repairs. Unexpected bills.

It seems like life comes with a trade-off most of us face:

Either you spend a lot of time making money,or you spend a lot of time worrying about money.

I could accept brand deals for this channel. But I don’t want any company’s opinion here.

So if this is going to survive long-term… I’ll probably have to make my own products.

And that’s part of what this season is about too.




 
 
 

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