The Stone Earthship That Turned a Busy Family Into Quietly Self-Sufficient Folks

Marie and Francis took a $15K fixer deep in the countryside and rebuilt their days around sun, rain, and a greenhouse in the living room. The surprising part is how calm it all looks now.

They Bought a $15K Stone Earthship and Bet on Themselves

The place is an oddball beauty—half buried, thick rock walls, and a greenhouse stretched across the front like a warm grin. Off-grid from the jump. Solar for power, rain for water, and a toilet that doesn’t flush. It’s the kind of house people daydream about and then talk themselves out of. They didn’t.

The greenhouse is part of daily life—literally the living room. Tomatoes brushing your shoulder while you eat, greens creeping into the conversation. In summer they barely hit the grocery store, and when they do it’s mostly for yogurt and the occasional cheese. Bread gets baked right here.

They’re not just summer optimists either. Fruit gets frozen or turned into jam, lined up for winter like a colorful savings account. The garden helps stretch the year out so their plates still look like summer when the world outside is white.

The Pioneer Who Built It, and the Hand-Off

Funny twist: it wasn’t even the region they were shopping in. They showed up “just to see” and ended up falling hard for the quirks and the quiet. Happens.

The price turned heads—fifteen thousand Canadian. Of course it wasn’t move-in ready. They poured time and cash into it over years, chipping away until the bones started looking like a home again.

The first owner was a one-person construction crew. He pulled rocks from the land, beams from the forest, and spent five years making this thing real. That DIY spirit never left the place.

When he handed it over, he basically sent his library with it. Stacks of homesteading books, notes, the whole playbook. That kind of gift changes how you learn—more patient, more curious.

Weekends, Flashlights, and a Garden That Wouldn’t Wait

There wasn’t much outside when they first got it. A few apple trees, and that was about it. The rest was blank canvas, which is equal parts exciting and exhausting.

They kept day jobs in the city for years and showed up on weekends like a small storm—flashlights in hand, gardening at 10 at night. Not glamorous, just stubborn. That’s how the place started feeding them.

After almost a decade of back-and-forth, they finally moved in full-time. You can feel the exhale in the way they talk about it—like the house had been waiting for them to stay.

Living Room = Greenhouse (and, yep, the Bathroom too)

The greenhouse isn’t just for plants; it’s a hangout. Table right there among the leaves, where meals just sort of happen. It’s a simple idea that makes life feel abundant.

Behind the main space there’s a root cellar, cool and steady, where jars and baskets hide out and wait their turn in soups and pies. The rest of the house is basically a loft—sleeping, kitchen, dining tucked in together.

Rain Comes In, Power from the Sun

Rainwater is the workhorse here. The greenhouse roof feeds a big tank out front, which drains by gravity into an underground cistern. Low-tech, high-payoff.

Another tank sits right in the greenhouse—1,000 liters of future showers and dishwashing, topped up by whatever the sky decides to send that week. It’s oddly satisfying to watch the level rise after a storm.

They even grab water off the shed roof for the garden and the chickens. Small roof, big impact. You start counting surfaces differently when every square meter catches rain.

They haven’t found a spring on the property yet, so drinking water comes from a nearby cabin. Jugs in the car, short drive, done. Not perfect, but it keeps the system simple.

Solar is modest—two panels, two battery packs—but it runs the essentials: lights, the pump, and internet, which somehow ends up being the biggest energy hog. Easy to forget that Wi-Fi isn’t magic; it actually costs watts.

Heat, Humidity, and the Underground Quirks

Most of the heat comes free from the sun thanks to the passive-solar layout. When clouds win, there’s an Amish cookstove in the middle that does triple duty: cooking, hot water, and heat. It’s the house’s heartbeat in February.

There’s a weird dance with humidity. The greenhouse gets toasty, the stone parts stay cool, and the two start arguing in the air. More ventilation helps, and a couple days of steady stove heat resets the balance.

Toilets That Don’t Flush and a Pond That Does the Dishes

Composting toilets keep things simple—one inside for nights and cold snaps, one outside for the everyday. It’s not fancy, but it makes a strange amount of sense after a week here.

Greywater heads to a little pond packed with plants that do the cleanup. Shower and sink water go in, leaves and roots do the heavy lifting. It’s quiet, almost pretty.

Winter: Either Cozy Up or Hit the Road

Even without a fire going, the house floats above freezing. On sun-bright winter days, it’s warm enough in the greenhouse to forget the season for an hour. Not what most people picture when they hear “off-grid in Canada.”

But they’re travellers at heart. Some winters they lock up and roll out—Europe to see family, Florida by highway, Mexico by long road. That freedom traces back to one thing: no mortgage breathing down their necks.

Kid Life: Tiny School Here, RV School There

Emma’s in a small village school when they’re home—fifty-something kids total, which feels like a throwback in the best way. Built-in friends, simple rhythm, and plenty of afternoons left for garden adventures.

On the road they switch to “travel school.” An hour a day keeps her right on track, and the rest is maps, markets, and whatever the trip throws at them. Education by scenery and snacks.

From City Rooftops to Hemp Fields

Before all this, they helped plant edible gardens across a city—rooftops, courtyards, any scrap that could grow dinner. That project nudged a lot of people toward food you can pick instead of pave. Mission kind of accomplished.

Now they’re knee-deep in industrial hemp—championing the plant, visiting makers, getting the word out about everything it can do: food, fiber, building materials, paper, even bioplastics. The wild part is how little it needs to grow—no pesticides, no fuss.

The goal is simple: make hemp normal again. Not niche, not novelty—just another smart crop in the toolbox. Given their track record, odds are good they’ll move the needle.