Life of a Farmer

I never really thought of myself as a farmer, nor did I aspire to be one. I’ve been many things and wore many hats. Banking, Corporate Sales, Retail Owner and, believe it or not, an armored car driver but that’s a whole ‘nother story. I suppose all these hats have lead me to the wide brim I wear today and I’m grateful. Sure, there are mornings when I just want to stay in my pj’s and drink coffee until I drain the pot but I have nowhere to call in sick so I trudge outside with coffee in hand. The mornings are still. It’s quiet and peaceful. All I hear are birds and my rooster, Sir Elton, announcing the new day while his girls sleep in. I’d like to say I have a specific routine with this farming gig but my husband said it well “you basically determine what can wait and move to the next thing”. This means weeding is low on the priority list because I hate to weed and always find an excuse to skip over it. I have learned my lesson this year, however, as my beds are overrun by weeds and volunteer queen annes lace. Note to self: landscape fabric next year and pull out those volunteers when they’re an inch high. Something I’ve come to love about farming is the new beginnings each and every year. Winter gives me a pause and I plan the new season of flowers. I pour through seed catalogues the way I used to pour through fashion magazines. I create spreadsheets with sow dates, flower types, production and harvest dates and wish list’s upon wish list’s. I determine what worked the previous year and what tanked. Very few professions give an opportunity to start over each year which makes this whole experience super exciting. It’s exhausting, especially when we’ve had the hottest summers on record but I’m happy to be contributing in a way that helps the Earth and brings beauty and joy to those who receive my flowers.