Hello from the Stead

Hey there. I’m Ashley, Steward of Wyrdstead.

That feels more honest than founder. Wyrdstead isn’t a company so much as a tangle of seeds I’ve been carrying for years. Some big, some small, all rooted in the same soil: community, creativity, nature, and the quiet magic that happens when people feel they truly belong.

Wyrdstead is a place in progress. Not a place you can point to on a map (yet), but one you can feel in your bones. A gathering of ideas and future spaces—part homestead, part bookshop, part barter market, part sanctuary. All of it under one offbeat umbrella, growing slow and strange and real.

For a long time, I didn’t start any of it. I thought I needed more—money, time, the right moment. But recently, I realized the only thing keeping me from beginning was me. So I began.

I started small. Grindsboro—a running club that will meet at coffee shops and bookstores instead of bars or breweries. That felt doable. And when it worked—when folks said yes right away and coffee shops agreed without question—I realized something: you don’t have to wait until you’ve got it all figured out. You just have to start.

A professor once told me that any dream can begin today. Just scale it down to the smallest possible version and do that. I’d told him I wanted a farm one day, a place for events and animals and art and dirt under fingernails. He said, “Then rent a garden plot. There’s your step one.” I didn’t listen then. But I hear him now.

So this is my step one. Or maybe step two, if you count the runs.

I know I’ll be asked where to find Wyrdstead online. The truth is, you mostly won’t. I’ve spent most of the last decade working in marketing—building brands, running social media, designing websites, helping companies grow. And while I love my work, I’ve chosen something different for Wyrdstead. No feeding the feed. No aiming for followers. Just a simple site, and maybe a few real-world signs tacked to community boards or tucked into coffee shop corners.

I want this to grow like things used to: word of mouth, handwritten notes, neighbors telling neighbors. The kind of slow visibility that builds trust for years to come.

So what’s next? I don’t know exactly. Maybe the market. Maybe the bookshop. Maybe something I haven’t named yet. It’ll come when it’s ready. The point is: I’m building. Slowly. Steadily. With care. Like you would a real stead, layer by layer, season by season.

This isn’t a launch in the loud sense. It’s more of a lantern hung in the dark, saying: I’m here. This is happening. If it calls to you, you’re invited.

Thanks for stopping by the stead. Let’s see what grows.

With warmth,
Ashley
Steward of Wyrdstead