The Nature of a Farm

For several years now, I've looked forward to getting my farm life started. We'd decided we were going to be farmers, we started planning...I'd made my decision and I wanted to start living it. Nevermind that I'd never lived on a farm before, that my max amount of plant experience was helping in a garden or flowers in a tiny pot that I forgot about. Nevermind that I really had no practice with animals (although I wasn't so un-knowledgeable that I didn't know where beef, steak, pork, bacon, ham, eggs and chicken come from....I know there's no magic "Meat Conjurer" machine in the back of every grocery store). I wanted my farm life. I had this image in my head of a quaint farm in the middle of a prairie, and me washing and hanging clothes to dry, as I stare out onto the prairie, with my munchkins running about catching bugs and digging in the dirt....yeah, no. When you move to the farm at the end of October, that's not what happens.

We came home to bizarre weather. I took over the chicken chores in the evening, which includes feeding the dogs (dog now; the older dog went over the rainbow bridge earlier this week and all that's left is our demon dog, Apollo), collecting and then sorting the eggs. Husband is now cutting wood and hunting for small game to relieve the grocery bill. A daily chore of emptying the "water" is not out of the ordinary. We now live 16 miles from the nearest decent sized town, so running to the store "real quick" isn't possible. But you know what? I LOVE EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

I love this camper. I love my itty bitty bed that my warm son still fits in with us. I love my itty bitty fridge that forces us to be prudent about what we're shoving in there. I love my couch that triples as our dining room and J's bed. I love my makeshift spice rack. I love my coffee cabinet. I love my tiny closet and my tiny bathroom. It's not what I dreamt of, but that's okay. I'm learning to love my current stage, and keep dreaming for the future. And that's the nature of a farm. It doesn't always go with your plans, so you have to learn to roll with the punches, be creative and keep your chin up.

 Apollo sniffing around our eventual driveway, last year.

Me on a tractor, a couple years ago. I just recently drove one again.