Just over a year ago I wrote an entry in my journal about our “beautiful, wonderful, boring life”. Wow, a lot has changed. I mean, of course we’re still wonderfully boring in many ways- but now we have a place to be every bit ourselves from the colors on our walls to the size of our garden. Our HUGE garden. This one is too grand in scope for Chris to do all alone. I planted a lot of seeds, I’ve weeded a lot of rows, but I am most proud of my lettuce. I rolled the crazy-heavy palates down from the barn heave-ho style. I won’t even try to estimate the distance, but it was a lot of rolls. Shovel in hand, I dug out perfect sized holes to place them in, and, with my hands, buried the slat openings in dirt. I carefully put the seeds into the openings, one palate holds a variety of beautiful lettuce greens and the other enough kale to appease my Ani’s appetite for baked kale chips. I watered, and, of course, we waited.
The Garden
My times spent in the garden are fewer and further between. Chris is out there everyday, at least once. It’s a lot of work. He tills the rows with our old-school gas-powered tiller. We pull weeds around the plants by hand. I am thankful it becomes less challenging to decipher the weeds from the baby growth of our future food as the weeks go along. I have watched my lettuce greens go from infant leaves I would cut off the stem one at a time, to full blown heads of lettuce! I am in awe and have very rarely felt prouder. My kale looks like it’s on steroids. Everything is exploding with miraculous edibles that remind us daily why we choose this way of life.
Friends came to visit and picked their own bounty to take home. I get a lot of enjoyment in seeing the light in the face of a guest who discovers a giant squash hiding under vine-laden leaves or the beginnings of a beet starting to poke above the dirt. We made dinner with our harvest and sat family-style around our farm table, sipping craft beer and sharing our life experiences. Sitting around the stone fire pit on the edge of a forest patch of the perfect size and placement that evening, one friend shared he felt like he was in a fairytale.
When I look around the farm-OUR farm- I see cats chasing each other up trees, snuggling on a lap, or eating corn off the cobb surrounded by chickens doing the same thing.
I see chickens chattering, pecking, running around free in the yard, or peacefully resting in the safety of their well-equipped coop.
I see my husband spending his summer outside, impressing the neighbors with his ridiculously green thumb, and providing an amazing life for his family.
I see my husband spending his summer outside, impressing the neighbors with his ridiculously green thumb, and providing an amazing life for his family.
I’m watching my son becoming a young man. Kai has taken on a slew of new responsibilities, in turn developing a slew of new skills, from cutting up firewood to mowing the lawn on the John Deere. Most impressive to me is his changing outlook on chores and helping make our place our own.
I see my daughter in her element, surrounded by animals who would allow her to do anything she wants to them because they love her so. She pet a wild bunny who lives in the forest. The cats have no issue with her interrupting their activities to rock them like a baby, or move them closer to her. Our neighbor’s horse accepted unlimited hugs from her upon their first introduction.
I see my daughter in her element, surrounded by animals who would allow her to do anything she wants to them because they love her so. She pet a wild bunny who lives in the forest. The cats have no issue with her interrupting their activities to rock them like a baby, or move them closer to her. Our neighbor’s horse accepted unlimited hugs from her upon their first introduction.
I see harmony. In the evenings I like to take it all in surrounded by sunset and sky, land, and life. I have come to realize my only goal here is to make sure all who partake in our fairytale can feel safe, accepted, and free. Every person, every animal, everyone who visits, and everyone who stays. This is my happy place.
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