Honestly, I have wanted to live on a farm for as long as I can remember, dating back to when I was a young child. I recall something about my dad having come home, describing a property-a farm- that he wanted to buy. It came alive in my young mind from his description. For whatever reason, we did not buy that property, but the idea stuck. Like a seed planted in the late autumn, it lay dormant, never germinating, holding on to life, never sending out the first tentative root. just waiting.
In the same way that I think I have always been a long distance runner, I have always felt a connection to the earth, to the land.
Does this sort of thing come from genetics? Is it born within us?
Could researchers identify the section of DNA that clearly defines "farmer", much as other sections define "blue eyes" or "red hair" or that weird thing about your toes?
Probably nothing as fanciful as that, but I do know it feels like coming home to where I should be. No matter that it has taken until we are in our 60s to get here.
If there is any kind of lesson here, it might be, follow your heart. And do it before it is too late. In a very real sense, it might be leading you where you are meant to be.
It might mean making some tough choices, some scary ones even. Full of uncertainty with no guaranteees of success. Only, there are no guarantees, not in anything. So may as well not waste effort looking for them.
We will meet the challenges here as best we can. I imagine we will make mistakes. It wont be perfect. (What is?) But one thing I know. We are home.
I wonder how Steve will look in overalls?😊
Weather: cold and snowy. about 3 inches of fluffy snow fell during the day.
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