Dreaming...

I often lay down in a patch of sun and dream of a different life.
A life where my work starts at sun up, ends at sun down and is a 365 day commitment.
A life of manual labor, joy, and heartbreak.

I am talking about farming. Not agro-industrial farming, but the kind of farming that is a return to working with the land and the seasons. Not the kind of farming that tears up soil and plants in straight rows and uses chemicals that drain downriver to poison the Gulf*. The kind of farming that makes good use of space, and compost, and rain.

Which is why I love to read Cold Antler Farm. She is farming on 6 acres with sheep and chickens and geese and rabbits. One of her heros is my hero too: Joel Salatin. He believes in healthy farming. And he doesnt just TALK it, he LIVES it.

So I like to warm myself in a patch of sun and dream that one day I too can provide my family and myself the food we need by the work of my hands. It will be hard work, but the reward will be glorious.

*The Gulf of Mexico holds a special place in my heart. Growing up, my Nana had a house there and we used to go and eat pancakes and play on the white sand beaches and splash about in the tide. My heart floats in the salty waters of the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was my second love--specifically the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The wind, the sand, the water--all of this resides in my bones. So much so that I get disoriented & lost when I am not near large bodies of water. Me and Sante Fe? Lets just say I was lucky to have cab fare.