Life on the farm means conversations over breakfast about mushrooms -- of which the most exciting moment is when I recognize the word hirsutism and say "That must mean the mushroom has something to do with hair." It's eating a meal of your own cauliflower and thinking, "I'm pretty sure that's the best cauliflower I have ever eaten." That's our other volunteer (and surrogate family member) Jacob, who has done the majority of the work in our garden this year and was super proud of this harvest.
Living on a farm means meeting new people. Like Jake. (Not to be confused with Jacob who is already here.) Jake is a new volunteer that joined us on Monday. He's from Boston but has gotten interested in homesteading and asked if he could come out here and glean some information from us for a few weeks.
A homestead in the country means a conversation late at night with a neighbor whose hunting dogs have jumped over the fence and are on your property. And you can hear gun shots and dogs and see flashlights and you just aren't sure what to do. Until you call them and they say they are sorry and you say that's okay.
My life here is so different from how I dreamed my life would be. And it's a life I can't imagine not living,
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