Well… I’m continuing to explore and be curious about my restless soul wanderings and my relentless self-inquiries these days. I’ve also been listening to several podcasts around listening to your gut, and I know as women and religious people we are often told not to- that we can’t always trust that. I believe, for me, God speaks to me through my gut and usually in a deep gut reaction and/or feeling. The last several weeks, I have been out (in the brutal heat) picking blueberries, pulling and shucking corn, caring for the chickens (with treats of corn cobs, corn worms, softened ripe or early picked blue berries and over-ripe pickling cucumbers), reviving pitiful plants from the clearance rack in my freshly cleared garden space, and my soul has felt incredibly satisfied, my gut even has had physical reactions. For a girl who hates summer because of the heat, I have come to not notice how hot it is anymore. I’m too focused on being out with my plants, sharing space and time with the growth and harvest. It solidifies even more my desire to be home, work with my farming father, cultivate family land that is generations old, and reintroduce myself to a life that my grandparents lived, the only life they honestly knew. One of the earlier said podcasts, was an episode about reconnecting with our heritage and the innate nature we have in us. I feel this is becoming true and fulfilling, even being adopted into this life and family I’ve known for 42 years.
My maternal grandfather was a peach and apple farmer, as were the generations before before him. I live on the land that he and his father worked, though the miles of peach trees have since been cut down, the apple trees also pulled up, and we rent out a large portion of the land to the wheat and soybean farmers who work the land year round. Much of the cattle farm land had to be sold off due to rise in taxes and my dad not being able to tend it all. We, as a family, still own 41 acres (as I’ve mentioned before) of my maternal grandparents’ land. My dad has been able to cultivate a pretty lucrative blueberry farm, along with corn and seasonal vegetables, and my brother has chickens that we use for egg consumption and a pretty productive sunflower field. I now have a large compost bin and I have taken more ownership in caring for all of these endeavors my dad and brother have begun over the last several years, but not fully invested until this year. I hope to add to it in sustaining and productive ways.
My father grew up on a peach farm as well, five minutes down the road. My dad has three sisters and so each child has a portion of that land. My other brother built and lives on 15 acres of that. He acquired the pond with which I have become quite jealous of these days. What I remember mostly about my paternal grandparents is their strawberry and lucrative peach fields. I remember being outside with my paternal grandmother in the strawberry and vegetable garden, and she worked hard to cultivate this portion of the farm for her family. I remember peach picking with my grandfather and dad, and summer nights full of family and homemade peach ice cream. The ice cream took quite a bit of time to churn and we would play with our cousins in the fields until it was ready. I remember those days fondly, as we never felt attached to the television, though both sets of my grandparents’ had one television with local antenna stations. I played outside for hours on end, and we would play board games inside when it was too dark to see outside.
Never before have I truly valued, or even thought about, the hard work and labor it took my grandparents and the generations before them to create the home, the farm and the life that sustained them day in and day out. With “homesteading” and “micro-farming” becoming more trendy in the last several years, I find myself bucking against this ideal and label. I also have grown in my desire to live within it. I HATE trends, whether it be clothing, ways of living, verbal slang, labels, whatever. I don’t like labels or putting a label on something I’m doing or value. However, if I think about it clearly, what I dream about creating and living, “homesteading and “sustainable living” would be the correct “terms.” Even micro-farming: growing and cultivating enough food for my family to live and be sustained. I have spoken about this before, there is shift taking place within me. A shift more driven toward things that give me life and ways in which I can connect more deeply with my family and friends. I have no doubt part of this shift is due to my survival from cancer, and I think it’s been slowing churning within me for the last several years (starting with COVID burn-out and living with intention).
This year I have definitely been more proactive in working towards this intentional way of living and providing. I have been speaking my intention and my need for care outside of myself. I have found a friend who has always dreamed of being a farmer and has helped reground me to the earth and my generational heritage. We restarted an old compost my dad let go for years and it has brought so much joy and life to us. Who knew how much you could love dirt! The smell, the feel, and the beauty of decomposed fruit and veggie scraps, chicken poop, and mulch! We worked hard to remove everything that had fallen on top (pinecones, pine needs, sticks, etc.) to learn within the pile was already gold and all we needed to do was dig up and cut the large roots and weeds that had overgrown from the lack of tending. We have since added to it and flipped it several times and it is producing incredible rich compost already. I am one to research and end with paralysis by analysis, but I have forced myself to move forward with what I do have already to cultivate and plant in small doses. I cleared our a flower garden space where I plan to also have raised vegetable and herb garden beds. My sweet garden looks more lush and happy than ever at this moment. Farming, working and tending land is hard and laborious work and it is also life-giving and grounding work. I am happy. I am hopeful. I continued to be filled. The shift is continuing to move and I pray I remain open to where it will lead and guide me. My consistent words and needs: Intention and Care. I am now solidly living in intention and caring for myself as I listen to my body speak its needs and desires and to creation all around me.
The Journey Home 