A year of hard magic.
It's gonna be a magical year. And get ready, because I'm gonna go on and on about it.
Honestly, get double ready because as much as I ramble about beauty and magic and farming splendor, there will also be times I have to admit naiveté, foot-in-mouthiness and complete green boneheadedness.
For if anything in our first year of farming was learnt (and at least one or two things were), it's that so much won't turn out as planned. Sensational things happen constantly, and much goes "right," but farming is so outrageously humbling.
And for a girl with a pen and planner in one hand and a large imagination in the other, I've had to chew a couple slices of that humble pie more than once.
But facing reality isn't a bad thing. On the contrary, look at this:
Sunsets like that happen nearly every evening, and we're there to see them. We watch them paint themselves all over the sky and across the fields before we pack it in and head home for dinner. I mean, jeez. As far as reality goes, keeping this in mind while calling insurance companies at the first of the year is just good for your blood pressure.
And then there's this:
Family lent us a hand over and over again this past year, eager to help out wherever there was need.
Our families often made the difference between a large beneficial project being put off for another time or another year and getting it done when it could help us the most. Parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, nephews and grandmas all pitched in to help us make 2013 promising, effective and fun.
As for the first days of 2014, our biggest wake-up call to reality was the brush with freezing weather we had early this week. We were holding out until the last minute to decide whether the fields needed covering or not. It seemed like every weather report we received had conflicting degrees and honestly, we were really dreading covering up every bed in the field at the chance of a hard freeze.
It wasn't until we were at the farmer's market this past Sunday and spoke with other farmers in our area that we realized, "Nope, we will be fools if we don't get those babies covered." How terrible would it be to lose any of our precious edible children because we didn't want to be too cautious? Or worse, because we were lazy?
So, after a post-market scramble to Home Depot and several rows of landscape fabric later, we were back in the fields with a few hours of daylight left. And again, if it hadn't been for family, we would never have gotten everything done in time. Alex's aunt and uncle bundled up and helped us unroll fabrics and haul rocks (once we ran out of pins to keep the fabrics down) until the last bit of light was gone from the sky. I'm happy to report, all of our plants made it through safely.
Ahhh, the beauty of insulated onesies and helpful family members.
And so it is that I hereby declare this year will indeed be magical. And hard. But since that's life and not just farming, I think that's right where we need to be.